A DAUGHTER
OF THE
REVOLUTION
CATHERINE MMM
t
A DAUGHTER OF
THE REVOLUTION
I'lllLirPINli MAKIK-Htl.F.NK UE FKANCK (MADAME ELIZABETH)
SISTER OK LOl'IS XVI. (1764-1794).
(Portrait by Madame Vigee Le Brim.)
A DAUGHTER OF
THE REVOLUTION
A LEADER OE SOCIETY
AT NAPOLEON'S COURT
By
Catherine M. Bearne
Author of " Early Valois Queens," " Pictures of the Old
French Court," " The Cross of Pearls "
NEW YORK
E. P. BUTTON AND COMPANY
31 WEST TWENTY-THIRU STREET
1904.
THIS BOOK
IS DEDICATED
TO MY HUSBAND
ruiNTKI) IN (iREAT HKITAIN]
THE TLILKRIliS.
PREFACE
IT has always seemed to me that Laura Permon,
afterwards the wife of General Junot and
Duchesse d'Abrantes, was one of the most interesting
women who belonged to the Court of Napoleon I.
And owing to the literary pursuits of her later
years the story of her eventful life, filled from
beginning to end with romance and achcnturc, can be
told and realised more full}- than is usual in such cases.
It was a stormy, brilliant career, chequered with
good and evil fortune, poverty and splendour, perils
and triumphs ; but it was never dull, h^or ciniiii she
had neither time nor inclination.
When her fortune disappeared with her husband's
death and the downfall of the Empire, she turned her
attention to literature, and besides various novels,
several of which had at the time a considerable
popularit}-, she wrote those voluminous and de-
viii PREFACE
Hghtful memoirs to which she owes her lasting
reputation as an author.
The first edition, in eighteen volumes, treating of
the Revolution, the Directory, the Consulate, and
the Empire, was published at Brussels in 183 1-4;
a second edition in twelve volumes was published
at Paris in 1835.
In 1835-7 she wrote the Memoirs of the Restora-
tion, also published in Brussels in seven volumes.
From these are chiefly drawn the materials for this
book ; but I am also indebted to various other works
of that time, such as " Memoires sur la vie privce
de Napoleon," by Constant, "Memoires de La Harpe,"
" Les rois freres de Napoleon," Napier's " Peninsular
War," and other books of the kind.
As this book is intended for the " general reader,"
who, as a rule, does not care to wade through long
descriptions or many volumes, I have endeavoured
to leave out anything he might consider dry or
tedious, and to compress into a single volume the
most interesting portions of the life of my heroine
and the most important events in which she was
concerned.
With regard to the way French names should be
written in English books, although, as Mr. Wakeman
observes,^ it must be to a certain extent a matter
of custom, the names of countries, capitals, and a
few other universally known places being always
translated, I cannot agree with that most delightful
historian that this practice should be extended to the
names of ordinary places and of persons. To me
this entirely destroys the harmony of a book, for
' " The Ascendancy of France," Preface.
PREFACE ix
after all a man's name is part of himself If he is
French or German or Italian, his name is not IIcnr>'
or Frederick or Charles, but Henri or Friederich or
Carlo, as the case may be. I have even seen the
noble, picturesque name of "Louis" transformed into
"Lewis"! In "Henry of Conde," "Anthony (jf
Bourbon," or "Henry of the Rochejaquelein," I fail
to recognise "Henri de Conde," " Antoine de Bour-
bon," and " Henri de La Rochejacjuelein," nor could
I ever quite realise " Lorenzo dei Medici " as
" Lawrence of the Medicis " or " Masaniello " as
" Thomas Lamb."
The names of Laura, Laure, or Laurette all go well
with the French" Junot " and Portuguese "Abrantes."
That of Napoleon is, of course, an exception. I
have kept the Italian "Buonaparte" throughout,
though it was Frenchified by Napoleon, who dis-
liked the idea that he was not of French parentage.
THE STOKMIXG OF THE UASTILLE.
THE BAKKICADEb.
THE LOrVRK.
CONTENTS
PREKACE
I'AGK
vii
CHAPTER I.
1784-17S9.
Madame Pernion— Her l)eauly, royal descent, marriage, and
Corsican home — Intimacy with the Buonaparte family — Birth
of Laura — Life in Paris before the Revolution — Napoleon
and Marianne Buonaparte — A banquet of evil omen — The
beiiinnintr of the Rexolution .....
CHAl'TKR IL
1791.
The Terror — Escape of M. and Madame Permon — Horrible
scenes — Albert, Cecile, and Laura Life at Toulouse —
Marriage of Cecile . . . . . .20
xii CONTEMTS
CHAPTER III.
1793-1795-
PAGE
Return to Paris — The Comte de Pcrigord saved by his valet —
State of society — Friendship of Napoleon — Alarming ad-
venture in a mob — Violent scenes in Paris— Fall of the
"Montagne" — An unwelcome guest — A terrible danger —
Escape to Montpellier . . . . .42
CHAPTER IV.
1795-179^-
Return to Paris — Renewed disturbances — Death of M.
Permon — The rising star of Napoleon — His proposals to "
Madame Permon — Quarrel between them — Death of Cecile —
The first Confirmation and Communion since the Terror —
Enthusiasm of the people . . . . .69
CHAPTER V.
1 798-1800.
Triumphs of Napoleon in Italy — His kindness to Albert —
Rejoicings and /c/es at Paris — The brothers and sisters of
Napoleon — Josephine — Madame Permon's l^all — Pauline and
Caroline . . . . . . .84
CHAPTER VI.
1800.
The chauffeurs — Their fearful crimes — A midnight attack —
General Junot — Betrothal of Laura — Generosity of Napoleon
— Laura insists upon being married in church — Her wedding 95
CIIAl'TI'.R \TI.
1800.
The faiiboitri; St. Germain and the new society — A mixed party
— Extraordinary manners — Indignation of Madame Permon 123
COXTFXTS xiii
CIIAI'TKk \ni.
1800.
I'AGE
I^ura presented at the Tiiileries — The Kirsl Consul — >Tadanie
Permon's invitations — Her hall — Napoleon present — His
conversation with her — His conijilaints of lerome . . 131
CIIAI'TKK IX.
iSoo.
The Consular Court — Josephine and M . Charles — Jealousy
and injustice of Napoleon — Murat — His marriage to Caroline
Buonaparte — A military parade — Lucien Buonaparte —
Napoleon and Madame ?"oures — Attempt to assassinate
Napoleon — Santerre ...... 144
CHAITKR X.
iSoi.
La Malmai.son — The tailor's ])ill — Marriage of Louis Buonaparte
and Hortense de Beauharnai.s — Napoleon and Laura — The
theatricals of Count Louis de Cobentzel . .160
ClIAl'TKR XI.
1801-1S02.
Adventure of Michau the actor — An unlucky joke — " We have
lost Egj'pt" — Laura's first child — Ke-estahlishment of
religion — Death of Madame I'ermon . . . 181
CHAPTER Xn.
1802.
Folly and love affairs of Pauline Leclcrc — Her courage at
St. Domingo — Liaison of Napoleon — Treaty of Amiens —
Birth of Laura's second daughter — Brilliant fCtes — The
Cardinal's biretta . . . . . .190
CHAPTER XIII.
1S02-1804.
Dejeuner and ball in the Champs-Elysees — A country house
near Paris — Narrow escape of Laura and Caroline Murat —
CONTENTS
PACK
The Consulate for Life — -Disputes between Napoleon and
junot — War with England ..... 202
CHAPTER XI\".
1S04.
Junot and Laura at Arras— Murder of the Due d'Enghien — —
?kIarmont and Davoust — ^Proclamation of the Empire —
Napoleon at Arras — The Imperial Court — Elisa Bacciocchi
— The Prince and Princess Borghese — Quarrels in the
Buonaparte family — Coronation of Napoleon — ^Junot Am-
bassador to Portugal — Parting festivities — New liaison of
Napoleon — Departure of Junot and Laura — An old friend —
Madrid — ^Journey to Lisbon — Jerome Buonaparte and his
American wife ....... 220
CHAPTER X\'.
1805.
Spanish brigands — The wood of the confessional — A nocturnal
adventure — Lisbon — ^Splendour of Laura's entertainments —
Her numerous friends — The garden of Bemfica — Summer at
Cintra — War rumours — Illness of Laura — Departure of Junot
— Trafalgar — Austerlitz — Laura returns to Paris . . 238
CHAPTER XVI.
1806.
The household of Madame Mere — Junot Governor of I^arma —
Laura remains at Paris — The love affairs of Pauline
Ijorghese — Camillo, Prince Borghese — " The inheritance of
tlie King our father" — ^Junot Governor of Paris . -251
CHAPTER XVH.
1 806- 1 807.
The Chateau de Raincy— Life at Raincy— The war— Auerbach —
Jena— Leipzig— Caroline Murat — Her intrigue with Junot —
Remonstrances of Laura — Folly of Junot— Theatricals at
La Malmaison— Death of the eldest son of Louis Buona-
parte—Grief of Napoleon — His anger with Caroline and
Junot on his return— Junot sent to Lisbon . . -265
COS' TEXTS XV
CHAPTER Win.
1807.
P.\(iE
Princess Catherine of Wurteniberg— Her reception at Raincy —
Her marriage with Jerome Huonaparte, King of Westphalia
— The Duchesse de Chevreuse — Magnificence of the Court —
Fontainebleau — Liaisons of Napoleon — Duroc antl Hortense
— Meeting of Napoleon and Lucien — Violence and tyranny
of Napoleon — Courage of Lucien — "I will not be your
prefect" — Alarming rumours — Interview with Napoleon —
Junot, Due d'Abrantcs ..... 2S2
CHAPTER XIX.
1 808-1810.
A melancholy ball — A hurried journey — Meeting with Junot —
" The seraglio of Junot" — Napoleon's treatment of Madame
Rccamier — Illness of Junot and Laura — Cauterets — Hattles
of Essling and Wagram — Fearful slaughter — Murmurs of the
people — Divorce of Josephine — ^^funot and Laura go to Spain 305
CHAI'TER XX.
Burgos — Valladolid — Narrow escapes of Junot — The horrors of
war — News from France — The Empress Marie- Louise —
ALassena — Ney — Laura left at Salamanca — Siege of Ciudad-
Rodrigo — Don Julian — Ledesma— San-Felices-el-Crande—
Dreadful hardships — Laura left at Ciudad-Rotlrigo — Terrible
position — Brutality of general in command — Birth of a son
— Continued hardships and dangers — ^^fourney to Salamanca —
The forest of Matilla — Saved from Don Julian — ^Junot
wounded — Wellington's letter — Toro — A Spanish convent —
Escape from brigands — Return to France
CHAI'TER XXL
1811-1S12.
Joseph Buonaparte — Changes in society — Marie-Louise -More
liaisons of Napoleon — ^Junot commands in Italy — Laura at
CONTEXTS
PAGE
Aix-les-Bains — Fch' dn Lac at Geneva — Defeat at Salamanca
— Laura returns to Paris — Growing discontent — Sinister
rumours — Letters from Russia — False despatches — General
consternation — Return of Napoleon — His harshness to Junot 352
CHAPTER XXH.
1S12-1813.
Dreadful anxiety — Interview with Napoleon — Return of Junot —
His despondency — Illness of Laura — Caricatures and Epi-
grams — ^Junot Governor of Venice and lUyria — Battle of
Liitzen — Death of Bessieres — ^^ Une ganache" — Death of
Duroc — News of Junot's illness — Laura expects him^ at
Geneva — He is taken to Burgundy — Laura gives birth to a
dead child — Sees an apparition— Death of Junot — Heartless
conduct of Napoleon — Laura in Paris — Brutality of Savary . 369
CHAPTER XXIII.
1813.
Debts and difficulties — Friendship of Lavalette — Defeat of
Leipzig — Approach of hostile armies — Departure of Napoleon
— The last triumph — The vanishing Empire — Capitulation of
Paris — Entrance of the Allies — Office of expiation — Abdi-
cation of Napoleon — The Emperor Alexander^IIe visits
Laura — Her salon — Wellington — J^Ietternich — Cathcart --
Bernadotte ....... 390
CHAPTER XXIV.
1814-1816.
Cosmopolitan society in Paris — Wellington and Bliicher — Laura
visits Josephine at La Malmaison — Napoleon's journey —
Visits of the Emperor Ale.xander to Laura — Loss of all
her estates — Her presentation at Court — An audience of
Louis XVIII. — Laura gives a great dinner party — Departure
of the Allies — Return of Napoleon — The Hundred days —
The Restoration -The King of Portugal's Bible — The
adventure of Stephanopoli ..... 409
COS'TKS'TS
CIIAITKU X\\.
1S17-1S38.
Illness of L;iura — Her journey lo Italy — Florence — I'rince
Metternich — Dangers from brigands — -Terrible dee<ls —
Arrives at Rome — Old friends Artistic and literary society
— Madame Huonaparte — Cardinal Fesch — I'auline, I'rincess
Horghese — Lucien Huonaparte — Charlotte, I'rincess Ciahrielli
— ^Jerome Buonaparte and I'rincess Catherine — Fnchanling
life — Kindness of Tio Nll.^l'alace and villa of Lucien —
Excavations at Tusculum — Story of the brigand dasparone —
N'illa Rufilinella — The brigand Decesaris — A summer at
Albano — Return to France — Life at N'ersailles and Paris
— Children, friends, society, literary career — The passing
of the tricolor ......
430
Indkx
45.1
THK IWAI.IDKS.
THE ARC 1>E TRIOMPHE.
l.A MALMAISOX
LIST OF ILLL STRATIONS
PhII.II'I'INK-MaRIK-HkI.KNK I)K 1-'RAN'CK (CALI.Klt
Madame Ei-izauki h), sistkr of Loris X\'I.
( I 764-1 794). {Portrait hx Madame Vigce Le Bruii)
Frontispiece
I'ACIK
L/ETITIA BUOXAFARTK {jn'e RaAIOLIXO), MoTHl-.k l)F
NaI'OLKOX. [Belliard) . . .12
Napoi.kon at Arcoi.a. {Gros) . . -71
JosKPHiNK, Empress OK 1""kance, ^^'l^■E of Napoleon I.
{//ee Tascher de la Paoerh:), \\'ii/o\v of
Alexandre, \'icomte de Beauharnais (1763-
18 14). {Belliard) . . .89
JuNOT, Governor of Paris and Due d"Ai;r antes . loS
Eugene de Beauharnals, \'kerov of Iialn, Son
OF Josephine . . . . ■ ^^3
XX LIST OF ILLUSTRATIO\^S
I'ACE
Joachim Murat, King of Naplks. (Gerard) . 149
Louis Buonapartk, Kino of Holland. {Gres^^orii/s) 163
Paulinp: Buonapartk, Princp:ss Borghesk.
{Bel Hard) .191
Hortp:nsk de Bp:auharnais, Daughter of Jose-
phine, AND Wife of Louis Buonaparte, King
OK Holland. {Be/Hard) . . . 205
Elisa Buonaparte, Madame Bacciocchi, Grand
Duchess of Tuscany. {Fntdho/i) . .226
Jerome Buonaparte, King of Westphalia.
{Kinso/t) . 236
Laure Junot {;ur Permon), Duchesse d'Ap.rantes.
{From a lif/iograp/i by Gavar/ii) . 247
Caroline Buonaparte, Wife of Murat, King of
Naples . . . . . -274
LuciEN Buonaparte, Prince of Canino . . 293
M'"' Recamier. {Gerard) . . . .311
SouLT. {Rouillard) . . . . -33^
"L'Espoir de la Postkrite." The Emperor
Napoleon, Empress Marie-Louise, and Kinc.
OF Rome. {Roehu) .... 355
Josi'-.i'ii Bi'onaparte, Kino of Spain . . 396
Nev . . . . . . .421
Till-. DrriiKssi'; d'Adrantes in 1836. {Boilly) . 4^9
A LEADER OF SOCIETY AT
NAPOLEON'S COURT
CHAPTER I
1784-1789
LAURA PERMON was born at MontpelHer,
1784. Her father, Monsieur Pcrmon, wlio
belonged to a family of fifUDicc, had started in life
with neither birth, money, nor connections to push
him on ; but by his intellectual gifts and many
attractions had made for himself, while still young, a
sufficient fortune and a good position.
His wife, a beautiful Corsican of Greek descent,
belonged to the noble family of Comnenus,"^ for
several generations settled in that island. At Ajaccio
he met and fell in love with her. He at that time
' The settlement was made in 1676. The district Oi Paoiiia was
given to the Greek colony, whose chief, Constantine Comnenus, and
his heirs, were looked upon as royal, wore violet and scarlet, and
received peculiar honours from their clergy. They carried on a feud
with the Corsicans for a hundred years. Their claim to royal
blood was recognised at the Court of Louis XVI,
2 I
2 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1784-1789
held a post in the administration of the government
of Corsica, which had just been transferred by the
Genoese to France. After their marriage they left
Corsica and lived in France for several years, at the
end of which M. Permon was sent to America with
the French troops that took part in the war against
England. His wife, taking her children with her,
returned to her mother, resolving to pass the time of
their separation in the home of her childhood, that
romantic, beautiful land with its southern sunshine,
great forests, and snowy mountains, to which she was
passionately attached.
The head of her family was then her brother.
Prince Demetrius Comnenus, and among the early
friends with whom she renewed her intimacy was
Lastitia Ramolino, now married to Charles Buona-
parte, and the mother of several sons and daughters.
During the absence of M. Permon, which lasted
several years, these young people grew up in constant
companionship with her own children.
When her husband returned she accompanied him
to Montpellier, where he had an appointment and
where their youngest daughter, Laurette, was born.
She was their fifth child, but they had lost two ;
there remained their eldest son, Albert, then sixteen
years old, and a daughter some years younger, named
C6cile.
The day after her confinement Madame Permon
was seized with a terrible illness. For three months
her sufferings were frightful, and the doctors could
neither understand nor relieve them, when one morn-
ing a peasant who had come with fruit and vegetables
for the house, finding everybody in despair and
1 784- 1 789] AT X A PO LEON'S COURT 3
hearing what was the matter, desired to speak to M.
Permon. " I do not want any reward," he said, " but
from what your servants tell me, I think I know what
is the matter with your wife, and if you like I will
cure her in a week."
On being questioned, he declared that his remed\-
was not in the least dangerous, but that it was a very
painful one.
M. Permon sent for the doctors and consulted
them. They advised him to allow the experiment to
be tried, and Madame Permon having consented, the
peasant departed for his own home and came back
the next day with the herbs he had gathered.
Mixing them with beer and flour into a sort of
paste, he heated it in the oven and applied it to the
part affected. As he had said, the pain it caused
was frightful, but at the end of the week the invalid
was cured, though still very weak. As for the child,
she had entirely forgotten its existence. One day,
however, four months after its birth, she was sitting
on her balcony with her husband, when the nurse
passed underneath carrying the baby, which had
been carefully kept at a distance, as M. Permon
feared that his wife's sufferings had made her take a
dislike to it, and that that was the reason she never
mentioned it. But with a sudden exclamation
Madame Permon, in great agitation, asked her hus-
band whether she had had a child and if that were
it. Her delight on its being brought to her knew
no bounds, and from that moment Laurette was her
idol from whom she could never bear to be separated.
In 1785 they established themselves at Paris,
where M. Permon bought himself a place ^.s fcniiicr-
4 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [i 784-1 789
general. Cecile was educated in a convent, but
Laurette was brought up at home.
The Permons lived in a large hotel on the Qiiai
Conti, went a great deal into society, and entertained
at home, giving dinners on a certain day of every
week, according to the prevailing custom. The salon
of Madame Permon was very popular with their
numerous friends, of whom the greater part belonged
to the faiiboufg St. Gcrniam^ but amongst whom
were also to be found officials of the Government,
personages of " finance," scientific and literary men.
Madame Permon was a strange mixture of talent
and ignorance. She was even heard to declare that she
had never read any book but " Telemaque," and yet
was a thorough woman of the world, with manners
and conversation as fascinating as her beaut}',
possessing to perfection what Napoleon afterwards
called "/'«r/ ele tenir salon."
The old regime was rapidly drawing to a close ;
already the dark clouds that were to usher in the new
one were gathering on the horizon. It was a time of
excitement and restless anxiety, people's minds were
unsettled, there was a general feeling of uncertainty
and changes to come ; while amongst the masses
sullen anger and discontent were steadily growing
and assuming a more threatening attitude. Society
in I'rance was divided into opposite camps. Those
who held to the old regime regarded with horror and
dismay the new ideas and practices which seemed
everywhere to be arising ; and to this party belonged
for the most part the French nobles and gentlemen,
the clergy, and the peasantry in some of the provinces,
especially in the west.
1784-1789] AT XAPOLEOXS COURT 5
The party of the new regime was composed of
many shades and varieties, the most violent and
reckless of whom were advancint^ with rapid steps
towards the Revolution. The moderate sections com-
prised many persons who were discontented with the
present state of things either from some private
grievance or from philosophic or benevolent reasons ;
whose ideal was a constitution like the English,
which they vainly imagined possible to establish in
France ; who hailed with delight the dawn, as they
supposed, of liberty and fraternity, but would have
shrunk with horror from the bloodshed and cruelt\-
for which they were unconsciously paving the way.
To one or other of these sections belonged a
sprinkling of the more lax and freethinking of the
clergy, a few nobles and gentlemen, either niauvais
snjcts, like Orleans and Mirabeau, or generous young
enthusiasts such as Noailles and Lafayette ; many
literary men, most of the professional and mercantile
classes, and the artisans, small shopkeepers, and other
inhabitants of Paris and the larger towns, who after-
wards formed the furious and bloodthirsty mobs of
atrocious memor}'.
During the first part of their life at Paris, Monsieur
and Madame Permon held opinions directl\' opposite
to those which might have been expected from their
early associations. Although belonging to a simple
bourgeois family without an\' claim to ancient blood,
he was by nature and education a refined and culti-
vated gentleman, with studious habits and quiet in-
tellectual tastes. The manners, principles and aims
of the revolutionary party were alike abhorrent to
him.
6 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1784- 1789
She, on the contrary, noble by birth, but the wife
of an official of finance, in spite of her social success
occasionally met with some slight vexation or dis-
advantage which irritated and induced her, like many
other women in the same position, to join in desiring
the abolition of privileges and distinctions of caste.
With the growing spirit of atheism and blasphemy
which characterised the revolutionary party, neither
of the Permons had any sympathy. How deeply a
large portion of French society was thus tainted
may be gathered from the following account of a
dinner-party given early in the year 1786 by a rich
and learned member of the Academy to a large and
brilliant circle of guests, including many of the most
distinguished names in the social, political, and lite-
rary world. The banquet was magnificent, and after
applause had greeted the impious and licentious tales
of Chamfort, the conversation became more and more
animated, and amidst jests and laughter and the
drinking of healths might be heard the praises of
Voltaire and Diderot mingled with scoffs and gibes
against religion. One man declared that he was as
certain there was no God as that Homer was a fool ;
another, with shouts of merriment, said that his
barber, while powdering his hair, had remarked to
him, " You see, sir, that although I am but a poor,
miserable barber, I have no more religion than
anybody else ? "
It was agreed that the Revolution, which was to
destroy superstition and fanaticism and establish the
reign of pure reason, must be near at hand ; the older
part of the company lamented the improbability of
their living to enjoy it ; the younger rejoiced that
1 784-1 789] '1'^' NAPOLEO\'-S COURT 7
they were likely to have that i:)rivilege. One of the
c^iiests, who had hitherto sat silent and pre-occupied,
taking no part in what was going on, now rej^lied in
a grave and decided tone —
" Be satisfied, gentlemen, you will all see this great,
sublime Revolution which you so much admire. You
know that I am given to pro[jhecy — and I repeat that
you will see it."
" One need not be a conjuror to know that," was
the retort.
" That may be," replied the former, whose name
was Cazotte, " but perhaps one must be a little more
than a conjuror for what remains for me to tell you.
Do you know what will be the consequence of this
Revolution to all of you who are here present ? "
" Ah ! " cried the infidel Condorcet with a con-
temptuous smile ; " let us hear. A philosopher is not
afraid of a prophet."
" Monsieur de Condorcet, you will die on the floor
of a prison, of poison which you will have taken to
avoid execution^from poison which the Jiappiiicss
of that time will oblige you to carry about }-our
person."
There was a moment's silence, after which it was
recollected that Cazotte was knov/n to be a visionary,
gifted with second-sight, professing to possess power
to foretell the future. There was a general laugh,
followed by exclamations against such gloomy
prognostications.
" What has filled your head with prisons and
poisons and executions ? " cried one. " What has all
that to do with the reign of reason and philosophy ? "
" That is what I tell you. It is in the name of
8 A LEADER OE SOCIETY [1784-1789
philosophy — of humanity — of liberty, in the reign of
reason that these things will happen to you ; and it
will be the rei^n of reason indeed, for she will have
her temples, and there will be no others in France."
" jlfa/oi !" cried Chamfort, with a sarcastic laugh ;
" you will not be one of their priests ! "
" But j/ou will, M. de Chamfort ; and you will open
your veins with twenty-two cuts of a razor, but you
will not die till some months afterwards. You, M.
Vicq d'Azir," he continued, turning to an eminent
physician, " will not open your own veins, but you will
cause yourself to be bled six times in one day during
a paroxysm of gout, to make sure of your end, and
you will die in the night. You, M. de Nicolai, M.
Bailly, M. de Malesherbes, M. Roueler, will die on
the scaffold "
He was interrupted by a chorus of incredulity and
disapproval. " Shall we then be conquered by Turks
or Tartars ? "
" Not at all. As I have told you, you will only be
conquered by philosophy and reason. They who
treat you so will all be philosophers with the self-
same phrases upon their lips which you have been
putting forth for the last hour. They will repeat all
your maxims and quote Diderot and La Pucelle as
you do."
" He must have gone mad ! " whispered one.
" Don't you see that he. is joking? " asked another.
" And you know his jokes have always a good deal
of the marvellous."
" Yes ; but his marvellousness is not cheerful," said
Chamfort, " it has too much of the gallows about it.
And when will all this happen ? "
17H4-1789] ''^T NAPOLEOXS COURT 9
" Six years will not have passed before all that I
have told you shall be accomplished."
" Extraordinar\- miracles indeed ! Ikit you have
not included me in \'our list," said La Harpe, who
himself gives these details in his memoirs.
"But you will be there as an equally astonishing
miracle. You will be a Christian."
" Ah, well ! I am comforted," observed Chamfort.
" If we are only to perish when La Harjje is a
Christian, we are immortal."
In repl}- to the Duchesse de Grammont's remark
that women were not likely to suffer in a revolution,
he assured her that she would go to the scaffold, with
many other ladies, in the cart of the executioner, with
their hands tied behind them.
" Ah ! I hope that in that case I shall have a
carriage hung with black."
" No, Madame ; higher ladies than you will go like
you in the cart of the executioner with their hands
tied behind their backs."
"Higher ladies! What! the princesses of the
blood ? "
" Still more exalted personages."
A sensation of terror fell upon the assembly, and
the darkening countenance of the host proclaimed
that the jest had gone too far. Wishing to appear
indifferent to the growing apprehension, the Duchess
said carelessly —
" You see he will not even leave me a con-
fessor."
"No, Madame, you will not have one ; neither you
nor any one besides. The last victim to whom this
favour will be granted will be "
lo A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1784-1789
" Well ! who then will be the happy mortal to
whom that prerogative will be given ? "
" It is the only one he will have retained," was the
gloomy answer — " The King of France." ^
Every one rose hastily ; the master of the house,
approaching Cazotte, remonstrated with him in a
tone of deep emotion.
Cazotte made no reply, but turned in silence to
leave the room. As he did so, the Duchesse de
Grammont observed that he had told them their
fortunes but said nothing of his own ; whereupon he
reminded her of the siege of Jerusalem and of the
man who for seven days went round the ramparts
crying, " Woe to Jerusalem ! woe to myself! " until a
great stone struck and destroyed him.
So saying, M. Cazotte bowed and retired.
He perished as he had predicted, in the Revolution,
He was arrested and liberated, but refused to share
the joy of his family, telling them that in three days
he should again be arrested and perish, which, like his
other predictions, proved to be true.
This extraordinary story is verified not only by La
Harpe, but by the Comtesse de Beauharnais, Vicq
d'Azir, and others who were present, by the son of
Cazotte, and by Madame de Genlis and many others
who heard it told before the Revolution.
Laurette, or Loulou as she was called at home,
was petted and spoiled by all her mother's friends
who frequented the stately sa/on on the Cj/zaz Coiiti^
and who used to bring her presents of bon-bons and
costly playthings.
' La llarpc : Maiioircs, vol. i., p. 63. I'aiis, 1806.
1784-17^^9] -''^' i\. I POL EON'S COURT 11
Amongst those whom she regarded with tlic
greatest affection was the old Comtc de Pcrigord,
who had been Governor of Languedoc and with
whom Madame Permon had begun a friendship at
MontpelHer whicli lasted for the rest of their lives.
He was cordon bleu and a perfect specimen of the
best type of a great French noble. His eldest son,
the Prince de Chalais, resembled him. His younger
son used to cause him much annoyance by a mania
for everything English. He had been in England,
ever since which he would have neither servants,
horses, carriages, nor even saddles or whips that were
not English, and although speaking the language
very badly he would be heard, on leaving the theatre,
to call out to his servants " Perigord House."
The Comtesse de Perigord had been a beauty of
the reign of Louis XV. That monarch fell in love
with her and wanted to make her his mistress, but as
she did not wish anything of the kind, she retired
from Court until he had transferred his attentions
to somebody else. Her daughter, the Duchesse de
Mailly, was one of the ladies of Marie Antoinette.
As soon as Madame Permon had established her-
self at Paris, she made inquiries after Napoleon, the
second son of her friend Madame Buonaparte, then at
the Ecolc Militaire. Her brother. Prince Demetrius
Comnenus, told her he had met him directly he
arrived, and taken him home to dine.
" I met him in the Palais-Rox'al," said Comnenus,
" looking about him with his nose in the air — exactly
the sort of figure to have his pocket picked. The lad
seemed to me to be rather sullen and more conceited
than is desirable. He declaims against the luxury of
12
A LEADER OF SOCIETY [i 784-1 789
the cadets, and talks about a memorial he wants to
write on the subject and send to the Minister of
War. All that will only make his companions
I..KTirrA nuOXAPARTK (NEE RAMOLINO), RIOTHliR OK NAPOI.EOX.
(Bclliarcl.)
take a dislike to him and will probably lead to
duels."
Napoleon was, in fact, at this time an irritable,
touchy, discontented lad ; unhappy on account of his
17H4-1789] '^T XAPOLEOX'S COUNT 13
poverty and inferior position in the college. His
father had died at Montpellier in the house of the
Permons, who had fetched him from the inn where
he was staying and nursed him with the utmost kind-
ness. Madame Buonaparte, left with eight children
and very little money, was thankful to have her
eldest daughter, Marianne, placed at Saint Cyr as
" e/eve de Saint Loitis," and her son Napoleon in the
Ecolc Militairc. Tlie brother and sister were boiirsicrSy
educated at the expense of the State, and as at both
these institutions there were children of noble and
rich families who had plenty of pocket-money and
everything they wanted, the contrast was often pain-
ful, especially when there was a question of an\-
subscription among the pupils. The Permons were
very kind to them both. M. Permon, who knew all
the authorities at the Acole JMilitaire, often got
Napoleon leave to go out, and he was always welcome
to spend as much time as he chose on the Qitai Conti
with his friend Albert Permon, who was about his
own age and at the same college. Madame Permon,
whose attachment to Corsica and to her earl)- friends
never varied, was anxious that her son should be
intimate with Napoleon, but Albert, who had
inherited the good qualities and charming manners
of both his parents, at first assured them that it was
impossible ; that in spite of all his attempts Napoleon
remained cold and reserved and seemed embittered
by his dependent position.
His mother suggested that the fault might be in
his way of going about it, but his father replied that
he was not to blame, but that Napoleon, conscious
that in Corsica the two families had been in the same
14 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1784-1789
position, fretted at the difference now between his
own lot, a boursier at the college, poor and isolated,
while Albert was well off, surrounded with indulgence,
and constantly amongst his own relations. Madame
Permon replied that if Napoleon's way of going on
was caused by envy he must be a stupid, ill-con-
ditioned boy ; but her husband observed that it was
human nature, and that he was no worse than others.
" Why has he been in a perpetual rage ever since
he came to Paris ? Why is he always raving about
the ' indecent luxury ' of his companions ? Because
at every moment their position contrasts with his.
He thinks it ridiculous that these young fellows
should have servants because he has none ; he
objects to entertainments because he cannot sub-
scribe to them. I heard the other day from
Dumarsay, the father of one of his companions, that
a dejeuner was to be given to one of the masters, and
that each of the pupils was to ^\v& a subscription
much too large for those boys ; Napoleon is quite
right there. Well, I went to see him and found him
more gloomy than usual. I guessed why, so I offered
to give him the sum required. He became first red,
then pale, and refused."
" You must have gone the wrong way about it,"
said Madame Permon. " Men are so awkward."
" When I saw the boy's high spirit," continued her
husband, " I invented a lie, for which God will doubt-
less pardon me. I told him that when his father
died in our arms at Montpellier he gave me some
money to be given to him on any occasion when he
might need it. He looked at me fixedly, and replied
that since the money came from his father he would
1784-1789] •''^' NAPOI.EOX-S COURT 15
take it, but he could not have accepted a loan, as his
mother had already too many expenses, which he
ought not to increase for his own personal debts,
especially if they were caused by the stupid folly of
his companions."
His sister was not so scrupulous. One day Madame
Permon, her brother, Prince Comnenus, and Napoleon
went to Saint Cyr to see Marianne. She came to the
parloir looking very sad, and having evidently been
crying. When asked what was the matter, her tears
broke out afresh as she explained that a certain
Mademoiselle de Montluc was going to leave school,
and the other girls intended to give a sort of farewell
luncheon part)' in her honour. Marianne had not
enough money to pay her subscription like the rest.
" I have only six francs left," she sobbed, " and my
allowance won't be paid for six weeks. If I give the
six francs I shall have nothing left ; besides, it is not
enough."
Napoleon made a movement to put his hand in his
pocket, but recollecting that he had no money, he
stopped, blushed, and stamped his foot impatiently
on the ground.
Madame Permon gave her the ten or twelve francs
required, and when they were seated in the carriage
on their way home, Napoleon broke into indignant
remarks on the detestable management of the
Government schools and colleges, such as Saint C)'r
and the Rcolc Militairc ; and his language became
so violent and abusive that Comnenus, who was
naturally hasty, exclaimed, " Hold your tongue ! It
is not your place, when }'ou are being educated by the
charity of the King, to speak as you are doing."
1 6 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1784- 1789
Napoleon turned crimson and then pale, and in a
voice trembling with anger replied —
" I am not the pupil of the King, but of the
State ! "
"A fine distinction!" cried Comnenus. "What
does it signify whether you are a pupil of the King
or the State ? Besides, the King is the State, and I
will not allow you to speak so of your benefactor
before me."
" I will say nothing to displease you, Monsieur de
Comnenus," replied Napoleon, " only if I were master
and made the regulations they would be altered for
the general good."
Long afterwards the Emperor Napoleon, who
never forgot the mortifications of his youth, entirely
reorganised the administration of the military
schools.
While he was at the college he was disliked both
by his superiors and companions, who declared him
to be so unsociable that it was impossible to make
friends with him, and that he did nothing but
grumble and find fault. The consequence was to
hasten the time of his exchange from the college to
a regiment. There was a unanimous entreaty for
his departure, a sub-lieutenant's commission in an
artillery regiment was given to him, and he was sent
to Grenoble.
Before he left Paris he spent some days with the
I'ermons. Cccile, then a child of twelve or thirteen,
was being educated at the Convent of the Dames de
la Croix, but often came home for holidays. She
and Laura, who was much younger, were in the room
when he entered, wearing his uniform for the first
1 7^4-1 7^9] -iT NAPOLEOX'S COURT 17
time with pride and delii^ht. lint unfortunately his
boots were enormously large, and as his legs hajjpened
to be remarkably small and thin, they gave him a
most ridiculous appearance, so that Cecile and Laura
fell into uncontrollable fits of laughter, which made
him very angry ; but they only laughed all the more,
and Cecile answered, " Now that you wear a sword
you ought to be the ' chevalier dcs dames', and think
yourself lucky that they should joke with }-ou."
" It is easy to see that you are nothing but a little
schoolgirl," replied Napoleon.
" And you are nothing but a puss-in-boots," retorted
Cecile.
Napoleon became still more angr\-, but as Madame
Permon joined in the general laugh he said nothing.
A day or two afterwards he brought Laura a toy he
had caused to be made on purpose for her, representing
puss-in-boots running before the carriage of the
Marquis de Carabas, and for Cecile a beautifully
bound copy of the story of " Puss-in-boots," on
seeing which Madame Permon observed —
" The story-book is de trap, Napoleon. The play-
thing for Loulou is all very well, but the story for
Cecile proves that you have not forgiven her."
Time passed on, and the state of affairs grew
more and more threatening. Every one seemed to
be living in an atmosphere of fear and foreboding,
but no real measures of precaution or defence against
the coming danger were adopted — -it was like the
calm of stagnation that often precedes a fearful
tempest.
It was the 5th of May, 1789, when the States-
General held their first sitting. The day before, the
3
1 8 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [i 784-1 789
three estates, nobles, clergy, and tiers-ctat, or deputies
of the people, were to repair to Versailles to attend
Mass at the church of Saint Louis. It was to be an
imposing sight, and Madame Permon was anxious to
see it. M. Permon would not go. He disapproved
strongly of the States being assembled just then,
when the two parties were so inflamed against each
other that danger was sure to arise.
Madame Permon, however, accompanied by her
son and another officer, and taking Laura with them,
drove to Versailles through the shouting, rejoicing
crowds, whose hopes and expectations were centred
in the new Parliament. Every one seemed to be
animated by the same joyful confidence ; well-
dressed women waving their handkerchiefs, the
people cheering frantically as the deputies passed ;
everywhere a scene of enthusiasm.
Madame Permon, who had many friends in all the
three orders, looked on with eager interest and
sympathy. Laura was delighted with the splendid
show, but Albert remarked the sullen, hostile faces of
the deputies of the ticrs-ctat, and thought of his
father's words. On their return, he told him his
impression, which M. Permon repeated on the
following day to Necker, of whom he was a friend,
exclaiming —
" Ah ! what a mistake they have made in con-
voking that assembly in such a stormy time as this ! "
"It is not my fault," replied Necker; "and yet I
am responsible for it."
M. Permon's predictions were only too quickly
fulfilled. The violence of the opposing parties
in the new Parliament only accelerated the calamity
1784-1789] .'7' NAPOLEONS COURT 19
it had been hoped it would avert, and on the 14th
of July the Revolution broke out, in all its horror
and fury, with the storming of the Bastille and
the murder of its garrison. During the weeks and
months that followed, life at Paris was like a per-
petual nightmare. One alarming event rapidly
succeeded another. On the ist of October a banquet
was given at Versailles by the King's bodyguards to
the ycgiiiient de Flandrc, in the hall of the opera, at
which the King, Queen, and Dauphin appeared.
Their entrance was the signal for a frenzy of loyal
demonstration. The band struck up the Royalist air,
"' Richard ! O man Rot,'' the young officers climbed
into the boxes, maids of honour and ladies of the
Court tore up their handkerchiefs to make them
white cockades, the tricolour was trampled under
foot.
When the news of \.\\\s fcic became known at Paris
it aroused the rage of the populace. Furious,
threatening crowds thronged the road to Versailles,
and on the 0th the terrible procession re-entered
Paris escorting the unfortunate Ro)-al family.
M. Permon, beside himself with grief and horror,
was anxious to go to Versailles, but his wife, putting
Laura into his arms, with tears and entreaties
implored him not to leave them, till at length he
yielded to her representations. They closed the
shutters of the great salon, which looked on to the
Qicai Conti, before three o'clock in the afternoon, and
remained indoors all the rest of the day, trembling at
the cries and tumult outside.
CHAPTER II
1791
IT would be scarcely possible now to realise the
constant anxiety, alarm, and tension in which
for so long a period people at that time went on living.
There could be no peace or security night or day ;
it was dangerous to express unpopular opinions, and
still more dangerous to make an enemy, howev^er
apparently insignificant. Sometime in the year 1791
a man named Thirion set up a little upholsterer's
shop near M. Permon's house, and called to ask
for his custom. The valet-de-diavibre of Madame
Permon replied that they had already an upholsterer,
whom they certainly should not leave for a new one ;
whereupon the fellow became so violent and abusive
that M. Permon, hearing the noise he was making,
came to see what was the matter, and turned him out
of the house, observing that he was not only mad but
insolent. He soon forgot all about it, but Thirion
vowed vengeance on him and his family.
In the following year M. Permon, alarmed at the
aspect of affairs, made a journey to England accom-
panied by his son, taking with him a sum of money
which he had realised in order to place it safely in
London while the route was still open. Having
I79i] .1 LEADER OF SOCIETY 21
transacted his business, and not likin^^ to remain
longer than a few weeks away, he returned to France,
leaving Albert with orders to await his instructions,
which he did in much anxiety for a fortnight, at the
end of which he got a letter from his father, telling
him to take a letter he enclosed to his man of
business in London and then return at once to
France. When he arrived, on the morning of the
9th of August he found that iiis fatlicr had fought a
duel with one of the officers of his regiment who had
spoken slightingl}- of his political opinions in his
father's presence. As to M. Permon, whohad fought
plenty of duels and was said to be de la premiere foi'cc,
an affair of the kind troubled him very little ; he
considered it impossible to allow remarks to the
disadvantage of his son to be made before him, but
he concealed the matter from his wife lest she should
be frightened, and from the public because it was
safer not to draw too much attention to one's pro-
ceedings just then. The duel took place in the wood
of Meudon ; I\I. Permon was unhurt and his opponent
wounded in the arm. Paris had just been divided
into sections, and in the one in which his house was
situated the upholsterer, Thirion, was an inlluential
personage.
One morning soon after his return, as he was
dressing, a domiciliary visit, ordered by the Commune,
was announced, directed by Thirion, who presented
himself at the door of his dressing-room attended by
three others — his two brothers and his shop-boy.
The sight of this man so irritated M. Permon that
he imprudently advanced with a threatening gesture
and his razor in his hand, for he was shavin^^
22 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1791
" I am here to carry out the law," cried Thirion.
" Well, and what does the law wish to express by
such a respectable agent ? "
" I am here to know your age, your qualifications,
and the reasons for your journey to Coblentz ? "
M. Permon, who, ever since he saw the fellow, had
been longing to kick him out of the house, was
speechless with anger. He laid down his razor and
turned to the intruder, crossed his arms, and stood
looking at him in silent contempt. At last he said,
" You want to know my age ? "
" Yes, those are my orders."
" Where are your orders ? " asked M. Permon,
holding out his hand. " Show them to me."
"It is enough for }'ou to know that I am sent by
the committee of my section ; my presence here
proves it."
" You think so ? Well, I think the contrary. Your
presence in my house is an insult, unless it is justified
by an official order. Show it to me, and I shall
forget the man and onl}' recognise the public
functionar}'."
" I tell you again," shouted Thirion, "that you have
no occasion to see my order. Once more, will you
answer my questions? What is your age? What
are your qualifications ? What did you go to Coblentz
for ? "
" And you, once more, will you show me the order
by virtue of which you violate my domicile ? "
"It is enough for \'ou that I am here. What is
your age ? "
"If you ask me such a question on the part of a
pretty woman, I am five-and-twenty. Otherwise," he
I79i] .IT XAPOf.EOXS COrh'T 23
continued, L^ivincj way to his indignation and seizing
a large bamboo cane, " 1 will teach you tiiat I am
quite young enough to thrash insolent fellows," and
as he spoke he whirled the stick over the hearls of
Thirion and his acolytes.
Serious consequences might have followed had not
Madame Permon come in at that moment and con-
trived to get her husband away into another room.
Thirion departed with many threats, while ]\Iadame
Permon and Cecile tried to calm M. i^ermon.
Presently Napoleon Buonaparte entered the saloi,
where he only found Laura, who was crying. He
tried to comfort her, and asked what was the matter.
When the child told him what had happened, he went
and knocked at the door of her father's dressing-room,
where the matter was explained to him.
" How abominable ! " he e.Kclaimed. " How in-
famous ! P^our men to come into the house without
producing an order to legalise it ! But you must
complain. It's evident from what }'ou tell me that
the fellow has had a spite against }'ou for some
time, and thinks this is a good opportunity to revenge
himself There is no time to be lost ; I will sec about
it, leave it to me."
Buonaparte left the house and went to the com-
mittee of the section, to whom he spoke strongl)' of
what had taken place, but he saw at once that
Thirion had been beforehand with him. However,
he did not allow that to prevent his sax'ing what he
chose, but represented that the man's refusal to show
his order might have had disastrous consequences, for
if M. Permon had shot him he would have been
within his right as defending his domicile.
24 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1791
Napoleon returned to the Permons, and said that
there was so much agitation going on all around that
he could not do much, but advised them to be on
their guard. However, the terrible events that almost
immediately took place drove every lesser matter out
of people's minds.
The affair of Thirion happened early in August,
and on the morning of the 9th Albert arrived from
England. Cecile had left the convent and was now
living at home, where the usual preparations, so far
as was possible at such a time, had been made for
Laura's fe/e which, as there was no S^*^- Laure or
Laurette, was observed on the loth of August, the
fete St. Laurent. Madame Permon wished it to
be a day of which the child should have a happy
remembrance, so her young friends were already
invited to celebrate it, and from morning till night
her little white bedroom was filled with flowers, toys,
and bon-bons. But now festivities and rejoicings
were far enough from every one's thoughts. From
the early hours of the morning the increasing tumult
filled the household with terror ; the crash of artillery,
shouts and cries, the groans of the wounded who
were carried past under the windows.
Leaving the house shut up, M. Permon and Albert
went out to see if they could be of use to any of their
friends who might be in danger.
About midday Albert came in, bringing with him
one of his brother-officers disguised in the great-coat
of a bourgeois. The poor fellow had eaten nothing
for forty-eight hours. They were looking for him,
and if they found him he would certainly be murdered.
His family were under great obligations to the Queen,
I79i] -IT XAPOf.FOX'S COrRT 25
and he had hitely fought three duels in her defence,
in two of which he had killed his oi^ponent. lie was
in deadly peril. Madame Permon and Albert hid
him in Laura's little room, giving the child careful
instructions what to sa)' if she were questioned. It
was her first lesson in prudence and caution.
But the day passed on and M. Permon did not
return. His wife and children waited in terror and
anxiet)' hour after hour, Madame Permon crying and
wringing her hands, Albert going every few minutes
to the por/e cocherc to look out. Owing to the isolated
position of the house he was tolerably safe there, and
even ventured out on to the qiiai, but could learn
nothing of his father. He was told of the slaughter
of the Swiss guards, the storming of the Tuileries, the
flight of the weak, vacillating Louis and the royal
family to the Assembly. The fury of the conflict
seemed to have abated, the firing was less frequent,
but still scattered shots were to be heard every now
and then, while groups of drunken, furious men and
women roamed through the streets yelling and shout-
ing out horrible blasphemies and threats. Twilight
was gathering when at last Albert saw a figure come
cautiously round the corner, looking carefully about
him on all sides. At once he recognised his father,
who stopped on seeing some one watching at the
door, but on Albert's calling to him as loudly as he
dared M. Permon came forward cjuickly, told him to
keep the door open, and turned back into the street
round the corner to fetch a tall man whom he had
left under shelter in the Arcade de la Monnaic. The
man could hardly walk, but leaned on the arm of
M. Permon, who brought him in with great care and
26 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1791
helped him into his bedroom, desiring all to keep as
quiet as possible and do what they could to help him.
When he threw off the military cloak in which he was
wrapped they recognised an old friend, M. de Bevy,
one of the superior officers of the gardcs-dti-corps^ pale,
exhausted, and covered with blood.
" Poor Loulou ! " he exclaimed, on seeing the
trembling child, " it is a sad/^V^ for you. Great God!
what difete !" His head sank on his breast, overcome
more by the terrible events of the day than by his
physical sufferings. There was no chance of any
one's escape that night, during the whole of which
bands of ruffians, mad with wine and blood, were
parading the streets outside with curses and cries.
Next morning came a messenger from the valet of
Albert's friend, telling his master that he was in great
danger, as search was being made for him everywhere.
Then Albert recollected that an influential person
whom he knew lodged near at hand. To him he
went, and by his permission and assistance the young
officer vvas first hidden in a safer place, and four or
five days later enabled to escape to Germany.
As to M. de Bevy, he resolved to try to get to
London, and M. Permon was occupied in writing him
a letter of credit to take with him — for the house was
no longer safe, and he must get away as soon as
possible — when a footman came in saying that the
butcher they employed, who was in the Garde
Nationale, but a respectable, trustworthy man, had
come to warn M. Permon that he had been denounced
for giving refuge to the enemies of the people, adding
that he was sure no one could wish to hurt him as he
gave so much employment and did no harm to any
i79i] AT X A PO LEON'S COURT 27
one, but he had better be on his guard. More than
that the butcher dared not say, and M. Permon, who
was never afraid of anything, would not pay any
attention to his words. II(jwever, about an hour
afterwards a friend arrived with a still more urgent
warning and the promise of a passport for M. and
Madame Permon to one of the southern towns, for it
was all-important to get them out of Paris. This
friend also promised to come and fetch them and get
them safely out of the city, but said it was out of the
question to take any one else.
Madame Permon was distracted between the
necessity of going with her husband and the horror
of leaving her children at Paris at such a time. But
there was not a moment to lose, and it was decided
that Cecile and Laura should be placed in some
obscure school and that Albert should lodge near
them and look after them. M. de Bcv)- had
found another refuge. Hurried preparations were
accordingly made, and that same evening, after a
heartrending farewell between the parents and chil-
dren, who knew that it was very possible they
might never meet again in this world, M. and
Madame Permon left Paris, and the two girls were
sent to a school in the ;7/r (/u faubourg St. Antoiuc,
kept by the Demoiselles Chevalier.
It was a new experience for them both. Laura
had never been away from home before, and to
Cecile, though she had been brought up at a convent,
there was all the difference in the world between the
household and establishment of the Danics dc la
Croix and the second-rate school to which it was
considered safest to send them, a religious hous^
28 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1791
at such a time being, of course, out of the ques-
tion.
Laura, who had never seen such a place, when she
found herself without her nurse, surrounded by
strangers and discomforts, cried bitterly. Cccile,
who was old enough to understand the peril of their
position, tried to forget her own sorrow to console
her little sister. Albert and their nurse, Renesson,
paid them frequent visits. Shocked to find that they
had sour apples, cheese, and other coarse food given
them, she shed many tears, and insisted on bringing
them such quantities of grapes, peaches, pears and
cakes that Albert was obliged to diminish her sup-
plies for fear of compromising the girls.
The only happy hours the}' had were during
these visits, and after a short time they observed
that their brother had become much more de-
pressed and sad. They begged him to tell them
what was the matter, and he replied that their
father had been denounced in the section in a
manner that rendered his position still more
dangerous. The fact was that he had been told
that M. and Madame Permon had been arrested
at Limoges and were being brought back to Paris.
However, this fortunately turned out to be untrue.
It was then the end of August, and affairs in Paris
grew worse and worse. Albert drove every day to
see his sisters in a carriage his father had lately had
built. It was a cabriolet, very high and smart-look-
ing, and was called a " wiskey " ; and its appearance,
with the livery which, in spite of the remonstrances
of Cccile, he persisted in making the servant who
accompanied him wear, excited the an^ry attention
I79I] -iT XAPOLEON'S COURT 29
of the mob as he passed through the fauhoun^
St. Antoinc.
The Demoiselles Chevalier had in their em-
ployment a man named Jacquemart, who did all
the rough work of the house. He was useful
enough, as he seemed able to turn his hand to any-
thing, but so hideously ugly and with an expression
so sinister that Albert and his sisters regarded him
almost with horror.
One day, soon after their arrival at the school,
Jacquemart was carrying in some wood when Albert
drove up at such a pace that, although he called to
him to look out, the man, who was heavily laden,
could not get out of the way in time. Seeing this,
Albert, at considerable risk to himself and his horse,
pulled uj) so suddenly that Jactjuemart escaped with-
out any injury but a slight bruise on the leg, and as
he saw clearly what happened, he from that moment
vowed gratitude to young Permon.
It was the 31st August, and although that da\' he
had little or nothing to do at the place, Jacquemart
was hanging about the courtyard and the entrance of
the pension Chevalier from morning till evening,*
watching for Albert, who on that occasion happened
to come later than usual. As he got down from his
cabriolet Jacquemart came up to him and said —
" Don't go home this evening. Stay here and take
care of your sisters."
Albert looked at him with surprise. He knew that
an attack was expected that same evening, but he
thought it would be directed towards the Temple —
then the prison of the Royal family.
" What do you mean ? " he asked.
30 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1791
" I advise you to sleep here," replied Jacquemart.
" You will be near your sisters, and if they stand in
need of protection — well, we shall be ready."
Albert, however, did not take his advice, but gave
him an assignat of twenty-five francs, went in to see
his sisters, and then returned home.
The next day, September ist, was the eve of the
massacres at the prisons. News that the Duke of
Brunswick's army had crossed the frontier, and had
even fought a successful battle at Longvvy, excited
the Parisians to still greater ferocity ; arrests and
murders were going on all over the town. Dread-
fully alarmed for his sisters, Albert came to the
school to see them at considerable risk to himself
Jacquemart was standing at the door of the court-
yard, looking a most frightful ruffian ; the Demoiselles
Chevalier were terrified at his appearance but afraid
to send him away. The girls were all dreadfully
frightened.
" I did not tell you to come here to-day, but to
stop here ! " he cried when he saw Albert. "Why did
not you attend to me ? "
"And why did you tell me any such thing?"
returned Albert. " Is Mademoiselles Chevalier's
house especially threatened ? "
" I don't know, but at such a time of horror as this
there is everything to fear," answered Jacquemart.
Something not only in these words, but in the tone
of voice and expression of the man's eyes, struck
Albert. The voice was refined and cultivated ; the
expression was compassionate, even gentle.
"You arc a good master and a good brother," con-
tinued this strange individual, " therefore you cannot
1791] -iT X.irOLEON'S COl'RT 31
fail in your duty to these poor little things. They
have no one at Paris but you. Is not that so?"
It was late, and all over Paris cries and groans
were heard. Mademoiselle Chevalier invited Albert
to remain that night, but he refused, saying that he
would come back in the morning. Cccile was
terrified at Jacquemart in spite of what her brother
told her, and the danger of going through the streets
was very great ; however, Albert persisted in going
home, as he had to finish arranging some papers left
by his father. They took a long time to arrange, so
that when, the next day, he had burned all those
marked b\' his father to be destro}'ed, looked over
the rest and put them safely a\va\', it was already
three o'clock.
Then he got into his cabriolet, with his servant
b\' his side, and drove towards the faubourg St.
A)itoine. The town was in a frightful state. They
kept meeting groups of miscreants half naked and
stained with blood, carrying on their swords and
pikes pieces torn from the clothes of their victims,
their inflamed faces, haggard eyes, and horrible
expression making them hideous to behold.
The farther he went the more numerous they
were, and Albert, in desperate fear for his sisters,
from whom he had so rashly allowed himself to be
separated, pushed on as fast as he could, resolved
to get to them at all hazards. At last the cabriolet
was stopped b}' a crowd of these blood-stained
villains, who were howling, singing, and dancing.
They looked like devils. Calling out that here was
an aristocrat, they surrounded the cabriolet with
frightful yells. At that moment a head with long,
32 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1791
fair hair, raised on a pike, approached Albert till it
touched his face, and with a terrible cry he recog-
nised the head of the Princess de Lamballe. He fell
senseless on to the bottom of the cabriolet, while his
servant urged on the horse, knocking over the
ruffians who stood nearest, and driving as hard as he
could, feeling all the time that a man had got up
behind them, and hoping he would fall off. How-
ever, when they stopped at the door of the Demoi-
selles Chevalier the man jumped down, took the
insensible form of Albert in his arms as if he had
been a child, and carried him into the house, mut-
tering, " Monsters ! they have killed him too, poor
lad ! "
It was Jacquemart. Who he was and what he was
doing there was a mystery that was never solved.
It was evident that he had no bad intentions, and the
Permons always supposed that he was concealing
himself in this disguise. He disappeared, and they
saw him no more.
Albert meanwhile had been carried, pale and
senseless, into the house, to the terror of h-is sisters
and the rest of the household. The shock brought
on a serious illness, during which he was nursed in
the house of a doctor, and his mother was communi-
cated with at once.
Madame Permon, who was at Toulouse with her
husband, soon returned to Paris to look after her son.
When he was well enough to be moved she set off
for Toulouse, taking all her three children, escorted
by M. de Luppc, a friend of her family.
Their journey having been accomplished in safety,
Madame Permon looked about for an apartment, and
I70I] AT XAPOLFOX'S COURT 33
finally established herself and her household in one
of those enormous old-fashioned hotels built round a
great courtyard, with ample room to accommodate
four families, one of whom occupied one side or end.
Each was, in fact, like a separate house, with its own
entrance, hall, and staircase. The I'ermons were
fortunate enough to get one of these, and to settle
themselves in it for the present.
M. Permon's health had been seriously affected
by all he had gone through, and there was, of course,
no society just then. Almost everybody had either
lost some near relation or was in deadly fear for one
or more in prison or in exile ; and the more retired
and quiet people's lives were the safer it was for
them. Although they had escaped from Paris, the
danger was by no means at an end. The fury of the
Revolution was raging at Toulouse also. The pro-
consul, a venomous little scoundrel and a violent
Jacobin, soon began to annoy them and cause them
much uneasiness, but by good luck they had a friend,
a Corsican named Salicetti, who was powerful and
influential enough to protect them if he chose, and
was now at Paris engaged in the trial of the King. It
was true that there had been a coolness between
them in consequence of some discussion which took
place at the Permons' house in Paris ; still he was an
old friend and a countryman, and to him Madame
Permon, after some consideration, decided to write.
It was well that she did so, for they were in a
dangerous position. M. Permon was in extremely
bad health, and Albert was so delicate that if he
were forced to join the army he would probably
die of consumption. B)- the next post arrived a
4
34 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1791
letter from Salicetti, in which he assured them of his
satisfaction in being able to help them. He wrote
and recommended them to the especial protection of
the authorities of Toulouse, made Albert his own
secretary, and sent him his nomination and three
months' leave of absence. It was then about Christ-
mas time.
The trial of the King caused the greatest anxiety
and grief to M. Permon, and his execution filled him
with profound depression. He wanted to go back to
Paris to see if he could not do something at least for
Madame Elizabeth, to whom he was deeply grateful
for some kindness and help he had received from her
in past years. Madame Permon represented that it
would only be throwing away his life to no purpose.
" You will destroy yourself and do her no good,"
she said, with tears, when he was on the point of
setting off for Paris. "You cannot possibly save
her ; and what is to become of your children ? "
M. Permon allowed his wife's entreaties to prevail
and remained at Toulouse, shut up in the house
writing a book on education and teaching Laura,
who was the only person always allowed to be with
him. The child would sit silently studying while
his fits of melancholy dejection lasted. There was
a great difference between the ages of the three
surviving children of M. and Madame Permon ;
Albert being, when they took up their abode at
Toulouse, twenty-four years old, Cccile sixteen, and
Laura nine.
They remained at Toulouse until the fury of the
Revolution had abated — eventful years full of excite-
ment and emotions. The powerful protection of
I79i] 'iT XAPOLEOXS COURT 35
Salicetti ensured their safety ; they found and made
a small circle of friends, and the old southern town,
with its ancient houses, grey cathedral, and lovely
walks by the river and in the neighbourhood, very
soon seemed friendly and familiar to them. M.
Permon never left it during that time, but Albert
was away at Paris with Salicetti, and on one occasion
Madame Permon, after an attack of inflammation of
the lungs which left her chest delicate, went to
Cauterets in the Pyrenees, taking Cccile and Laura
with her, to their great delight.
M. Permon could not go with them, not being
then allowed to leave Toulouse. His health did
not improve, and the perpetual seclusion in which
he lived began to excite attention and comment, and
to constitute a fresh danger for himself and his family.
The Procureur dc la Conunune was a certain
Conder, a shoemaker, who though a violent republi-
can was an honest man and had befriended them on
several occasions, having received from Madame
Permon a promise that they would not emigrate.
One day he came to see her and warned her that
disquieting reports about her husband were going
about the town.
" It is said," remarked Conder, " that he is satu-
rated with aristocracy. I declared that it was not
true, but that he was a good republican. Of course I
know," he added, with a smile, "that that is not
exactly so, but one can't always tell the exact truth.
But if you will take my advice, force the dtoyc?i
Permon to go to the theatre now and then. If he
would do me the honour to accept a place in my
box " and he hesitated in some embarrassment.
36 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1791
Touched by the kind intentions of the man,
Madame Permon caught him by the hand and ex-
pressed her gratitude, promising that they would
accept his invitation. But it was not so easy to
manage her husband, who, when he heard her pro-
position, remained silent, and on her asking im-
patiently what he was going to do, replied with
a shrug of the shoulders —
" What a question ? What would you have me
do ? The citoyen Conder invites the citoyen Permon
to his box at the theatre ; therefore he must go there,
since it is better than being dragged to prison, for I
have the choice, I suppose? It is another Thirion !
Oh ! Marie, Marie, could you not have spared me this ?"
And he walked up and down the room in despair.
" Charles," said Madame Permon, "you are making
a mistake. Is it likely that I should have enter-
tained a proposal that could be insulting to you ? Of
course not. Conder "
" My dear Marie," interrupted her husband im-
patiently, " let the man make you some shoes, but
let me hear no more about his box at the theatre.
I am tired of it."
He said no more, and Conder was told that he was
too ill. It was fortunate that although the worthy
proc247r2ir saw clearly enough how the matter stood,
he did not resent it, or at any rate took no steps
to revenge himself, as he might easily have done.
Soon afterwards Madame Permon received a letter
from Salicetti warning her that there were rumours of
Royalist plots and conspiracies, that her husband was
an object of suspicion owing to his persisting in
shutting himself up in the way he did, and that it
i79i] AT MAPOLEOX'S COURT 37
was absolutely necessary that he should at any rate
receive people at his house. " Your s.i/on was
charming at Paris, why should it not be the same
at Toulouse? "
At last M. Permon, to whom she showed this
letter, perceived the danger to which his obstinacy
was exposing them all, and consented to open his
house. Madame Permon knew a great many people
in Toulouse by this time, and, as Salicetti had pre-
dicted, her sa/on was soon as popular as before.
She had met in Toulouse, by chance, a cousin of
hers, a Signorina Stephanopoli, who had left Corsica
and married a French naval officer, M de Saint-
Ange. He had retired and bought a chateau near
Toulouse, where he lived with his wife and children.
The cousins were delighted to find each other
again, and frequenth' met and talked about old
times and their beloved Corsica.
" Well," said Madame de Saint-Ange one day, " it
seems there is one of L?etitia Ramolino's sons who
is getting on well. I should not wonder if some day
he were to be a general dc division. I should never
have guessed it. I should always have thought that
the one to raise the family would be Joseph. And
the Archdeacon "
" Oh ! do let the Archdeacon alone ! " exlaimed
Madame Permon. " It was bad enough to hear
everybody always talking about him in Corsica."
" Well, the Canon, then, if the word Archdeacon
annoys you," replied Madame de Saint-Ange, laugh-
ing. " He is their uncle, and authority enough in the
family for me to quote him about the children ; and
he thinks, as I do, that Joseph is the one formed to
38 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1791
distinguish himself. See how handsome he is and
what charming manners he has, whereas Napoleon,
although he is your protege, is as ugly as a penguin,
as obstinate as a mule, and very rude besides."
The Permons, after the warning of Salicetti, went
into society and entertained a good deal. One
evening they were going to have a dinner-party,
and amongst others they expected was M. de
Regnier, commandant of the place, an old soldier
whom M. Permon particularly liked. Half an hour
before dinner he sent a note saying that a friend
of his had just arrived, having been sent to him on a
matter of business, and as he could not leave him
he must beg to be excused. Madame Permon asked
him to come and bring his friend with him, observing
to her children that an adjutant-general, a friend
of M. de Regnier, was sure to be some tiresome
old man who would spoil the party. They had
intended to have music, which he would not care for ;
he would have to play reversi. " An old infantry
officer can always play reversi, and always cheats
too," she added.
Albert was just then at home on leave, and was
devoted to music. He played duets with Cccile,
who was a pupil of Hermann, a brilliant /m///^/^ and
a very attractive girl. Without regular beauty, she
was slight and graceful, with fair complexion, dark
blue eyes, and the cJieveux blonds eejidres so much
admired in France.
When M. de Regnier arrived, instead of a tire-
some old man, his friend proved to be a very good-
looking young one, extremely fond of music. Cccile
was dressed in pink crepe ; she played, sang, and
i79i] 'if NAPOLEON'S COURT 39
looked like an angel — at least in the opinion of
M. de Geouffre, who immediately fell in love with her.
Next day he called on Madame Permon, and
after that he came perpetually, sometimes with
M. de Regnier, sometimes without him.
Madame Permon saw with disapprobation the
reason of these constant visits. Both she and her
husband had the strongest objection to a son-in-law
in the Republican army, and yet she was afraid to put
a stop to his coming.
M. de Regnier knew this well enough. However,
after some difficulties he yielded to the entreaties
of his friend and went to see the Permons about
the matter. As he had expected, they both refused
at once. " But what have you against him ? "
asked M. de Regnier. " He is well born : I tell
you he is one of the Geouffi'es de Chabrignac of
Limousin. .Several of them have emigrated. He has
a tolerable fortune and a nice place near Brives-la-
Gaillarde. He is well thought of in the army, and very
high up in it for his age ; he is certain of promotion.
He is clever and handsome too, which is no draw-
back to a marriage. Come, Madame Permon, let me
persuade you."
But it was no use, they still refused, and no repre-
sentations either from M. de Geouffre or any one
else for some time had any effect.
Cccile, however, had fallen in love with him, and
fretted in secret at her parents' decision. She was a
gentle, timid girl, very much afraid of her mother ;
and Madame Permon, though she had a great affec-
tion for all her children, committed the fatal error of
not treating them alike.
40 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1791
The great difference in their ages probably ex-
aggerated this tendency, besides which Cecile had
been brought up away from her, but Laura was never
out of her sight. At any rate, while she treated the
latter with great indulgence, she was strict — almost
severe — with the former, so that Laura, a clever,
merry, high-spirited child, was devoted to and per-
fectly at ease with her mother, while Cecile was shy,
reserved, and in considerable awe of her. So Cecile
did not venture to oppose her parents' decision, or
even to let them know that she was unhappy, only
as time went on every one remarked on her melan-
choly and altered looks. Her father's health was so
bad at that time that she saw scarcely anything of
him. Albert was away and Madame Permon did
not notice that anything was amiss.
M. de Geouffre, however, persevered all the more,
and about six months after his first offer he got a
friend of his to go to Madame de Saint-Ange, who
readily promised to help him.
She went to see the Permons, and observed how ill
and languid Cecile looked.
" Panoria," she said one morning to Madame
Permon, " when are you going to marry Cecile ? "
" What a question ! " replied her cousin. " You
know very well that I have refused."
" Have you looked at your daughter? Don't you
see how she is changed ? Do you know that you
are answerable for what she suffers? "
" Kalli," said Madame Permon, much disturbed,
" I leave you to manage your own family, and I wish
you would not concern yourself with mine."
" Indeed ! Well, if you take it in that way, I am
I79I] AT XAPOLFOys COURT 41
accustomed to be frank, and I tell )'ou that you are
not a good mother."
" KalH ! "
" No, you are not a good mother. Send for \'our
daughter ; ask Loulou what sort of nights her sister
passes, and then sa\' what you like."
Madame Permon, who had no idea of the state of
things and no wish to make Cecile unhappy, called
Laura, and from the questions she asked discovered
that Cecile spent the nights in crying and lamenting,
but had forbidden her little sister to say anything
about it. Filled with remorse, Madame Permon then
sent for Cecile, and assured her with tears that since
it appeared she had set her heart upon this marriage
it should take place ; and at the end of another
month the wedding was celebrated, and Cecile, now
Madame de Geouffre, took up her abode in the Hotel
Spinola, the headquarters of the district her husband
commanded.
The death of the Queen, and still more that of
Madame Elizabeth, caused a shock to M. Permon
from which he never recovered. Gradually his health
failed so completely that he seldom came down even
to dinner, but remained almost always in his bedroom
or study.
And though the fall and execution of Robespierre
caused a parox}-sm of jo\- and relief throughout the
country, and the worst of the Terror was over, all
danger was by no means at an end. The executions
at Paris, though less numerous, had not ceased, and
at first people dared not express the delight they
felt at the death of the tyrant. Until PVance was
delivered from the tyranny of the Convention there
could be no real security for any one.
CHAPTER III
1793-1795
IN this atmosphere of suspicion, anxiety, and
danger people all over France went on living for
a considerable time longer.
M. Permon was kept informed of what was going
on at Paris by his lawyer, M. Brunetiere, a man of
great experience and capacity who belonged to the
Chatelet, knew everybody and had dealings with all
the powers and authorities. All letters, however, had
to be exchanged with the greatest precaution.
Though the Terror was over, it might at any moment
break out again.
Letters were sent concealed in pies, in cakes, in
poultry, in the linings of coats and dresses, in hats
and bonnets. With the box or parcel was generally
sent a letter, saying, "In compliance with your order
I send you " such and such a thing. Now, as he had
ordered nothing, the receiver of such a notice knew
that a letter of importance was to be found some-
where in the article sent. Madame Permon, however,
did not like the dresses, bonnets, &c., that came to
her from Paris being pulled to pieces to look for
letters in them. On one occasion she wore a head-
42
I793-I795] -4 LEADER OF SOCIETY 43
dress for a fortnight before she told her husband
that it came from Paris and allowed the letter it
contained to be taken out.
It is true that just then nothing of great im-
portance was going on.
At length the time arrived when they were to
leave Toulouse. Calmer days seemed to be ap-
proaching. M. Permon received pressing letters
from different friends urging him to return to Paris,
telling him that he was certain of a distinguished
post. For all that, he sadly replied it was too late,
but he would, if it were possible, go back there
to die.
It was arranged that he should go to Bordeaux,
where he had some affairs to settle, while his wife
should proceed with Laura to Paris to see whether it
would be safe for them to live there again. Upon
her report their future plans were to depend.
Albert was now at Paris ; he had just left Salicetti,
and was thinking of going on some business to
Holland. He took an apartment for his mother in
the Hotel garni de la Tranquillite, Rue des Filles-
Saint-Thomas. They were pleasant rooms on the
second floor looking into the garden, and there she
installed herself with Laura, a maid and valet-de-
chauibrc, and began to receive the visits of such of
her friends as had sur\ived the horrors of the
Revolution.
Amongst them was the old Comte de Pcrigord,
who had just got out of prison, where his life had
been saved by his valet, Beaulieu. Without him, he
would have been even more lonely and desolate than
he had now become. His wife and daughter were
44 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [i793-i795
dead, his sons had emigrated, he had lost almost all
his fortune, his health was impaired.
When his master was arrested, Beaulieu devoted
himself to his service. He contrived to bring him
everything he wanted, and watched over him un-
ceasingly.
The Comte de Pcrigord, like many others, was
always writing to the members of the Committee of
Public Safety protesting his innocence and asking for
justice. These petitions he gave to Beaulieu to post
or deliver.
Ikit Beaulieu had been told by a friend of his own,
a relation of the man in whose house Robespierre
lived, that this importunity had been the destruction
of many of the prisoners, who might very likely have
been forgotten, and so escaped, had not their first
petition recalled them to the recollection of the
tyrants, and the following ones irritated them, so that
they often signed their death-warrants to get rid of
them.
Beaulieu did not tell his master this, but he put
all the petitions into the fire as fast as he received
them, and the old Count could not imagine why he
never obtained any answer, l^eaulieu did everything
he could to ensure his being forgotten. He bribed
the prison officials, and whenever the Comte de
Perigord began to be well known in one prison he
managed to get him transferred to another. When
the Terror was at an end and the prisons were
opened he remained with his master, still taking care
of him ; and another of his servants, directly he knew
that the Count was free, came back and lived with him
in the house of his friend, the Comte de Monchcnu,
1 793-1795] '4T X A PO LEON'S COURT 45
who was still well off, had i^ivcn him shelter and
shown him unceasin<^ kindness and friendship.
Napoleon, directly he heard of the arrival of
Madame I'ermon, hastened to sec her, and was
receiv'ed by her with great pleasure. He was then, as
Madame de Saint-Ange had said, decidedly plain ; thin,
sallow, .sickly-looking, and slovenly in his dress, his
boots were badly made and he wore no gloves because
he said it was a useless expense. He had been arrested
on an accusation of being a spy and for other matters
by order of Salicetti, about whose conduct in the
affair Napoleon felt all the more bitterly as they
were compatriots and friend.s. Napoleon had been in
considerable danger, and when Madame Permon
alluded to the matter he remarked with a momentary
smile, " He wished to ruin me, but my star would not
let him. However, I ought not to boast of my star,
for after all what is to be my fate ? "
Napoleon resumed his former intimac}', and was
constantly at Madame Permon's house. For advice
and assistance she depended chiefly upon ]\I. Brune-
tiere, who already repented of having counselled
her to return to Paris, where everything was still so
unsettled and threatening.
The Royalists were beginning to raise their heads
again ; their young men went about with hair powdered
and plaited, sometimes with a comb in it, dressed in
grey coats with black collars and green cravats,
armed with thick sticks, for they were continually
' getting into fights, which they very often pro-
voked.
There was great distress owing to the scarcit}-
and dearness of provisions. Cccile managed to send
46 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1793-1795
flour to her mother in secret from the south, but it
was unsafe to do so, as it was forbidden, and a heavy
penalty attached to it. The people were becoming
more and more irritated and menacing, the Conven-
tion was constantly being invaded by the sections,
and gangs of drunken women began to go about
again crying out for bread and shouting, " Down with
the Republic ! "
" Ma/oi /" exclaimed Napoleon one day, when he
came to dine with Madame Permon ; " I don't know
who they are so furious with, but they are like demons.
I have just met a section of "Cixo. faubourg St. Antoine,
which was the second volume to the troop that I
wish they had commissioned me to receive at the
Tuileries on the loth of August."
They dined hastily, and then went out towards
the Tuileries, to get news of what was going on,
Napoleon giving his arm to Madame Permon, Albert
taking Laura.
Before they had gone far they heard horrible cries
and shouts, women and children yelling against the
Convention, recalling the days of the Terror ; therefore
Napoleon said to Madame Permon, " You had better
go back ; this place is not fit for women. I will take
you home, and then go and find out what is the
matter and bring you word."
They returned accordingly, and Napoleon went
out with Albert, but neither of them could get back
that night. They went to the Convention, where
fortunately a man of sense and moderation was pre-
siding ; the people were yelling like maniacs for the
Constitution of '93.
Salicetti was one of those often to be seen at
I793-I705] '^T S'APOLF.OXS COURT 47
Madame Pcrmon's evenings, but he was glooin)'
and absent, and whenever an)' [xjlitical discussion
went on, especiall}' if he and Napoleon took part
in it, there was alwa)'s a tone of bitterness and per-
sonaHty incompatible with the old ideas of well-bred,
pleasant society.
Madame Permon, who saw all this with impatient
disgust, tried in vain to establish in her present sa/ou
the charm and ease of the Hotel Conti. She forbade
any politics to be discussed by the miscellaneous
groups who drank tea and ate ices in her rooms, and
Napoleon, who was entirely of her opinion, tried to
help her and to lead the conversation to other topics.
Hut it was impossible, for, with the best intentions,
what else was there to talk about ?
Literature seemed to be dead — there were no new
books except a few translations of English novels ;
the theatres produced nothing worth speaking of,
although now there were plays going on every night,
concerts at the Conservatoire, and even balls. Every-
one's mind was preoccupied and filled with the same
subjects, to which, do what they might, the conversa-
tion always returned. Napoleon came every day to
the Permons, and did not seem much more contented
than in the old days of the militar)' school. It was
true that he was already a general, though not yet
six-and-twenty ; but the proceedings of Salicetti had
for the time ruined his career : he had ver\' little
money, and his family could not send him any, as
the)' had become involved in the political troubles of
the day, had been forced to leave Corsica, and were
now living at Marseilles.
There Joseph had just married Mademoiselle Clary,
48. .-1 LEADER OF SOCIETY [i7()3-i795
the daughter of a rich merchant, and sent what help
he could from time to time to Napoleon.
Often in the evenings, as the young general walked
on the boulevards with his friend Junot, and watched
the je/inessc dorcc riding and driving past in all the
luxury it was no longer dangerous to display, he
would inveigh against injustice and inequalities
of fortune and abuse the young dandies with their
ridiculous dress and absurd, lisping speech, for it was
then the height of fashion to leave out the letter r,
and to speak of a miacle, ^pafnni, and so on.
Junot, whose family was better off, shared every-
thing sent him, as well as all he won at trente-et-nn,
&c., with Napoleon, whom he adored.
Napoleon, in addition to other troubles, had at this
time an unfortunate love-affair going on, and Junot
was deeply in love with Napoleon's second sister,
Pauline, who was remarkably beautiful, but whom he
could not afford to marry. To his entreaties that
Napoleon would write for him to Madame Buona-
parte about Pauline, he only re})lied —
" I cannot write to my mother to ask her any such
thing. You say you will have twelve hundred livres
de rentes. Very well ; but you have not got them
now. Your father is in good health, and you will have
to wait a long time. In fact, you have nothing but
your lieutenant's epaulette. As to Paulette, she has
not even as much as that. Therefore consider — you
have nothing, she has nothing, what is the total ?
Nothing. You cannot marry at present. Wait,
perhaps we shall have better days, my friend. Yes,
we shall have them, if 1 have to go to another part of
the world to find them."
I793-I795] -J'^ XAPOLEONS COURT 49
For some time public affairs seemed to have
calmed down, but every now and then some new riot
or commotion broke out, recalling to people's minds
the fearful days of the Terror, which were past but
might return. One day Laura was sent out by her
mother to buy some ribbons, gauze, and artificial
flowers, under the care of her maid, Mariette. They
went in a cab, and as they were coming back along
the boulevard, they met a troop of drunken, furious
women, yelling and shouting against the ("onven-
tion, and crying out for the Constitution of '93.
Mariette began to cry, but Laura, who had plenty
of spirit, said nothing, even when fift\' or sixty of them
surrounded the carriage, and one, who was the wife
of the driver, ordered him peremptorily to get down
and open the door.
" But I have a fare in the carriage. And there you
are shouting like a fury as usual ! "
" I tell you that I am tired, and these patriotcs too,
and we are going to this cursed Convention to
make them give us bread, jour tic Dieu ! ' or the
President shall know the weight of my arm as well
as you do. Come ! no more 'ifs' and ' buts ' ! Open
your wisky at once, I tell you ! "
Laura wanted to give the driver twenty francs and
walk home, but he would not listen or understand.
He tried to force his way through the crowd, where-
upon his wife herself opened the door and let down
the steps. Laura jumped out, beckoning to Mariette
to follow, but she was afraid to move.
" Come ! room for the good people," cried the
■ This expression is taken literally from the Memoirs of the
Diichesse cr.\I)ranti;s.
5
50 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [i793-i795
woman; but on seeing Laura she took her in her
arms. " Why, what's the matter, my chicken ? " she
said consolingly ; and turning to her husband she
exclaimed," And you, animal ! couldn't you have told
me it was a child like this you had in your carriage?
Rabbit's brain 1 Do you think I am going to put
i/iat out to walk, stupid ? And she is frightened,
poor little cat ! Is it your mamma inside there, //wu
choii ? "
" No, citoyenne, it is my maid."
" Well, what is she crying and making all that
noise for? One would think she had lost both father
and mother."
" Look here, Marianne," cried another woman,
opening the opposite door, " she is begging for mercy.
The fool thinks we are going to kill her ! Perhaps
she is a princess in disguise ! " And they all began
to laugh at Mariette, who cried all the louder.
" Come ! will you be quiet, you idiot ! " cried another.
" Hold your tongue and come out ! " and she seized
hold of her arm. Mariette screamed and fell on her
knees in the carriage.
" Well ! what is it ? " cried the jjroprietress of the
cab. " Leave the girl alone. Do you think I'm
going to make that go on foot ? Why, she can hardly
hold herself up. And then this child ! " as she felt
Laura tremble. She was a tall, handsome woman,
withfine eyes, teeth, and complexion, and the strength
of a giantess. Her language, like that of her com-
panions, was interlarded with oaths and blasphemies,
but her dark eyes rested compassionately upon Laura.
" Come, get back into the coucou, mon chou" she
said, " and go to your mamma ; but tell her not to let
1/93-1795] ■i'f \'. IPO LEGS S COURT 51
}'OLi run about with nobody but God to take care of
you, for you might just as well be quite alone as with
a canary like that, or that rabbit of a coachman either !
Where did you take them from ? " she added, turning
to her husband.
" Rue des Filles-Thomas, close to the Theatre
Feydeau."
" Well, then take them back there. I am going
with the others, and you can come after me. The
more the better."
And lifting Laura in her arms, she embraced her,
thrust her into the carriage, put up the steps, shut the
door, and with two or three oaths called out to her
husband in a voice like thunder, " Drive on !"
Madame Permon was waiting at the entrance of
the house in great anxiety, having heard that there
were disturbances in the streets.
Laura jumped out of the carriage, threw herself
into her arms and burst into tears, having had, as
Napoleon laughingly observed, too much pride to
cry before the fish-wives.
Her mother said that she had shown the spirit of a
Spartan, for which she was very much pleased with
her.
The state of affairs continued to be disturbed and
dangerous. There were insurrections every day, and
the strife between the two parties in the Convention
grew more and more bitter. Among the members
were now some men of moderate views and respect-
able character, but most of them were weak and
vacillating. Those of the party known as the
"Montagne" comprised the ferocious and violent
ruffians such as Collot-d'Herbois, Billaud-Varennes
52 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [i 793-1795
and Barrere, who flattered the mob, and whose aim
was to bring back the Terror. To this party SaHcetti
also belonged.
People of all shades of opinion were in the habit
of coming to the sa/on of Madame Permon in the
evening, and among them Salicetti, to whom Madame
Permon felt herself too much indebted for the pro-
tection he had given them to do anything to dis-
courage his presence in her house. But as events
grew more and more startling, she felt an unconquer-
able repugnance to receive as a friend a man who
was doing his utmost to bring back the Terror, and
she was considering whether she should not speak to
him on the subject, when the matter was decided by
the following circumstances.
After violent scenes, in which the " Montague "
supported all the demands of the mob, the Conven-
tion awoke to the critical state of affairs, and gave
orders to General Pichegru, who in a few hours
arrested the leading members of the Terrorist faction.
But the city was seething with rage and excitement,
there was a general. call to arms, the air was filled
with shouts, cries, and the ringing of the tocsin, an
armed mob poured out of the Faubourg St. Antoine,
urged on by the conspirators who were driven to
desperation, and had promised them the sack of
Paris. There was a universal dread of a worse cala-
mity even than that of loth August, '91. Roused
by this frightful danger, the respectable citizens — all,
in fact, who had anything to lose — formed themselves
into armed and organised bands, and prepared to
defend their lives and property.
Madame Permon and Laura remained, of course.
1 793-1 795] -'/" yAPOLEOXS COrRT 53
shut up at home all da}-, having done their best to
hide their most valuable things. Towards evening
Albert, whom they had not seen all day, came in to
get some food, exhausted with hunger, having eaten
nothing since earl)' morning, for at that time the
cafi^s and restaurants, now so universal, were few and
scattered. Just as he was finishing his repast
Napoleon arrived in the same state. He sat down
to the table, telling them, whilst he ate, of the
frightful commotion going on in the streets. He
asked if they had seen Salicetti the last day or two,
and remarked that he had ruined his career.
Albert Pcrmon tried to make an excuse for him,
but Napoleon interrujjted.
" Hold your tongue, Permon, hold your tongue !
That man has been my evil genius. Dumerbion
liked me, and would have given me active service.
No, I may pardon, but I cannot forget it ; that is
another thing."
About midnight he and Albert went out together ;
the streets were still full of excited crowds, a few
shots were heard, but the " Montagne " had fallen,
the Convention was victorious, and for the time the
danger was over.
The next day Madame Permon had some people
to dinner. It was a sort of farewell party, as she and
Laura were to start for Bordeau.x four days after-
wards to spend some months with M. Permon, and
then return with him to Paris. About six o'clock
Madame Permon was in her drawing-room, only one
person having arrived, when Mariette came and
whispered in her ear that there was some one in her
bedroom who wanted to speak to her alone.
54 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [i 793-1 795
When she went in she saw a figure standing half-
concealed by the curtain of the window. He stepped
forward, making a sign to her to keep silence, and she
recognised Salicetti. He was deadly pale, his black
eyes burning, his lips white.
" I am proscribed," he said in a low, rapid voice,
" and that means condemned to death. Gautier met
me on the boulevard and warned me. Madame
Permon, I have not deceived myself in trusting to
your generosity. You will save me, will }'Ou not?
I need scarcely remind you that I saved your husband
and son."
Laura had come in and shut the door. The three
stood looking at one another. Through the closed
door were heard the voices of the guests assembling
in the drawing-room. Madame Permon took her
unwelcome guest by the hand and led him into the
room beyond, which was Laura's, where they could
not be heard.
" I will not waste time in talking," she said. " All
that I have is at your disposal. But beyond my own
life I value my son and daughter. I am ready to
risk my life for you. But if I hide you here only for
a few hours — this house will not conceal you longer —
I shall not be able to save you, and I shall not only
bring my own head to the scaffold, but my son's. I
owe you gratitude ; say yourself if it ought to go so
far as that."
" I would not run you into danger for the world,"
he replied. " This is my plan and my only hope.
This house, being an //otc/ garni, will never be
suspected ; the landlad)' natural!)' wants to make
money. I will give her plenty. Let me be hidden
1793-1795] -iT XAPOI.EOys COrk'T 55
here for a few (la)'s, then you are i^oiii<^ to Gascon}',
take me with \ou and you will save m)- life. If )'ou
refuse me shelter even for a few hours, when I leave
this house I shall be arrested, condemned, and
perish on the scaffold from which I saved \our
husband and son."
" Salicetti," said Madame Permon, " there is neither
pity nor generosity in what you say. You know m>-
position and take advantage of it. Once more, what
can I do in an //oife/ garni? — a house filled with
people from all the provinces, inhabited by )our
enemies, for you know very well that Buonaparte is
one of them. Besides, the landlady is far from
sharing )'Our opinions, and is it likely that an)'
promise of yours would induce her to help }'ou at the
risk of her life ? Ever\-thing round us bristles with
difficulties."
At that moment some one opened the bedroom
door. Madame Permon rushed forward to stand at
the inner door, but it was only Albert who came to
see why dinner was not served.
"Everybody has come," he said, " except Buona-
parte, who has sent an excuse."
Madame Permon clasped her hands tighth', and
for a moment raised her eyes to heaven. Albert
looked at her in astonishment, but she signed to him
to be silent and desired him aloud to order the
dinner to be taken in at once. Then, taking a letter
from the mantelpiece she entered the drawing-room
with it in her hand, saying to the assembled guests
that her daughter C'ccile had just sent her a
messenger from the South with a turke\' and truffles,
which, if the)- did not mind waiting, they could have
56 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [i793-i795
for dinner. This she said because the man who was
present when Mariette called her was a chattering,
gossiping person, who would be a danger.
Everybody preferred not to wait for the turke)',
which she proposed they should cat the next day
instead ; so, asking leave to finish her letter, she
returned into the bedroom, softly bolted the door,
and told Salicetti that fortunately Buonaparte was not
there.
" Now what is to be done ? "
"If you don't refuse to save me, the thing is
certain. Do you consent?"
Madame Permon was silent for a minute, and
Laura saw by her changing colour the violent
agitation she felt. Salicetti, interpreting her silence
as a refusal, took up his hat, muttered some words,
and turned to go, but Madame Permon caught him
by the arm.
"Stay!" she said; "this roof must shelter you.
My son must pay his debt, and I must pay my
husband's."
" Well, then, it is all settled : there is nothing more
to say. Go to dinner, and Mariette will look after
me."
Madame Permon stopped for a moment in her
own room to regain her composure. Her eyes rested
in despair upon Laura, who was clinging to her, for
she well knew the danger she was incurring. How-
ever, she controlled herself, and no one who saw her
bright face and heard her merry laugh could have
guessed the deadly fear that made her heart sink.
The dinner was gay and animated. M. Bruneticre
was of the party, and the conversation turned upon
I793-I795] '4'' yAPOf.EOXS COURT 57
Salicetti, of wliom he spoke with contempt and
reprobation.
At last the evening came to an end, and when
everybody was gone Madame Permon told Albert
what had happened. He was horrified at the danger
for his mother and sister, but there was no time for
fear or hesitation ; something must be done. The}-
sent for Madame Gretry, their landlady, who was an
excellent woman. At the first mention of a pro-
scribed person she exclaimed —
" I have what }-ou require, but for that it will
be necessary that Madame Permon should change
her apartment. It is a secret place which has saved
more than four people already in the Terror, and it
will save others yet, as long as I live in this house."
They changed their apartment accordingly without
delay, giving out that they wanted a larger one, as M.
Permon was coming to Paris, and they arranged that
they should pretend to get a second letter from him,
saying that after all he was not coming, and summon-
ing them to Bordeaux. Meanwhile Salicetti was put
in the secret chamber, \\hich was lined with tapcstr\-
and carpets to deaden any sound.
Next morning Napoleon appeared with a large
bouquet of violets for Madame Permon, an attention
so unwonted on his part that they all laughed, in
which he joined, saying, " It seems to me that I
don't make a good cavalicre seit'cntc.''
He then began to speak of Salicetti, observing that
he wondered how he and his friends liked being
arrested themselves, and that they were reaping the
fruits of their own actions.
" What ! is Salicetti arrested ? " cried Madame
58 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1793-1795
Permon, with an air of surprise, signing to Laura to
shut the door.
"Why, didn't you know that the warrant was out
against him yesterday? I thought you knew it so
well that he was hidden in your house."
" In my house ! " exclaimed Madame Permon.
"In my house ! Napoleon, my dear boy, you must
be mad ! In my house ! Why, 1 haven't got a
house. My dear General, I must really beg you not
to make such a joke about me to any one else.
What have I done to you that you should amuse
yourself by endangering my life, for that is what
it comes to ? "
Napoleon got up and stood in silence, looking
at her with folded arms for some moments. Then he
said —
"Madame Permon, Salicetti is hidden here. Don't
interrupt me ; I don't know it positively, but I
say that he is hidden here, because at five o'clock
yesterday lie was seen on the boulevard speaking to
Gauthier, who warned him not to go to the Conven-
tion, and he went in this direction. He has not been
to the Palais Egalite, and he has no friends here
intimate enough to risk their own safety and that of
their family by receiving him, except you."
" And by what right should he have come to me ? "
replied Madame Permon. " He knows our opinions
are not the same. I was just leaving Paris, and if it
had not been for m)' husband's letter I should have
set off to-morrow morning for (-iascony."
"By what right should he come to you? You
may well say so, my dear Madame J'ermon. To go
to an unprotected woman whom a few hours' shelter
1 793-1795] -''^ SWrOLEOX'S COUh'T 59
given to a proscribed man who well deserves his
proscription would compromise, is a mean, cowardly
action of which nobody else would be guilty. You
are under an obligation to him ; it is like a bill
he holds, and which he comes like a bailiff and
orders you to pay. Was not that it, Mademoiselle
Loulou ? " he said, turning abruptly to Laura, who
was looking at some flowers, and pretended not to
hear.
" Laurette," said her mother, " General Buonaparte
is speaking to you, my child."
Laura turned to him with a slight confusion, but
Napoleon, taking the child's hand, said to her
mother, " I beg your pardon, I was wrong, and
your daughter has given me a lesson."
For more than two hours he remained there,
Madame Permon denying that Salicetti was in the
house ; Napoleon, who did not believe it, saying,
" Madame Permon, }-ou are a remarkably good
woman and he is a scoundrel. He knew you could
not shut your doors against him, so he endangered
you and this child."
]\Iadame Permon tried to throw him on a false
scent by declaring that Salicetti had been there and
gone away. At last Napoleon departed, Salicetti
having heard through the partition that concealed
him the whole of the conversation.
For several da)'s he stayed there, to the great
inconvenience of the Permons. Laura was dread-
fully afraid of him : she said in after-years that
he was to her like a vampire. His principles and
ideas were odious to them all, and he was constantly
saying something that horrified and disgusted them.
6o A LEADER OF SOCIETY [i793-i795
The execution of those who were condemned and
had been arrested took place. Albert, who knew one
of them and went to the scaffold out of kindness to
be of some consolation to him, returned much over-
come, his overcoat stained with blood, so close had he
stood to him. The account he gave of what had
passed was too much for Laura, who clung to her
mother trembling and sobbing.
Then Salicetti had an attack of fever and delirium.
Without any religion and stained with crime, his
ravings, curses, and blasphemies were horrible to
listen to. At last he was well enough to travel, and
it was arranged that they were to set off on their
journey to Bordeaux one night, taking Salicetti
disguised as a valet, whose name, Gabriel Tachard,
he assumed. He was to try to embark at one of the
southern ports, those of the north being too strictly
watched.
Napoleon had never been deceived by Madame
Permon's assurances about Salicetti, and when he
asked her at what time she was going to start, and
she replied at midnight, as it was better in hot
weather to travel at night and rest by day, he
remarked sarcastically that it was an excellent idea,
and asked if it were her own.
" Whose else should it be ? Loulou's ? "
" Why not ? Mademoiselle Loulou has excellent
ideas sometimes ; especially when she likes me a
little."
"But I like you very much always!" cried Laura.
There had been much trouble and difficulty in
hiring a valet, very dark and about thirt)' years old
whose description in the passport would suit Salicetti
I793-I795] AT yAPOLEOX'S COURT 6i
and then getting the man another place. However,
it was clone, and all other arrangements completed.
Madame Grctry had been lavishl}' rev/arded, but
was thankful to see them going, as she had n(jt a
moment's peace or safety while Salicetti was there.
The day before their departure Napoleon proposed to
go with them, saying —
" I will go and see my mother while you are at
Bordeaux and Toulouse, and then return with you
all to Paris. I have nothing to do, thanks to that
scoundrel who has ruined me."
They spent the next day in packing, much dis-
turbed by the continued visits of friends who came
to say goodbye. At half-past six the}- sat down to
dinner with several people, among whom were M.
Bruneticre and Napoleon. At ten Madame Permon
dismissed everybody, saying that she had several
things to finish and promising to be back in Sep-
tember or October. When Napoleon took leave of
her he held her hand and said in a low voice —
" When you come back here remember this day
and say to yourself that to-day I have given you
more than I thought I possessed. Perhaps we may
never meet again ; my destiny will surely call me
far away from Paris before long, but wherever I go
you will have a true friend."
They set off, with Salicetti on the box of their
travelling-carriage, and were soon safely out of Paris.
The first time they changed horses the postilion,
who was going back to Paris, brought a letter to
Madame Permon.
"It cannot be for me," she said ; "it must be a
mistake."
62 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1793-1795
" No, no, it is no mistake — at least if you are the
citoyenjie Permon."
On hearing this she remembered that Napoleon
had told her he would send her a letter. She took
it, therefore, offering him five francs, which he refused,
saying that he had been paid by the young man.
"Really," said Madame Permon, "one would think
I was a young girl being carried away from her lov^er
by her parents. Did any one ever hear of such a
thing?"
She could not see to read the letter, and it was not
until the day had dawned that she was able to do so.
It was as follows —
" I have never liked to be taken for a dupe, as I
should be in your eyes, if 1 did not tell you that I
have known for more than three weeks that Salicetti
was concealed in your house. Remembej- my words ;
on the I prairial, Madame Permon, I was morally
certain of it. Now I know it positively. Salicetti,
you see I could have repaid you the injury you did
me, and by doing so I should have revenged myself,
while you did me harm without any provocation.
Which is the finest part to have played, yours or
mine ? Yes, I could have taken my revenge, and I
have not done so. Perhaps you will say that your
benefactress has been your salvation. It is true that
she was a powerful consideration, but alone, disarmed,
and proscribed, your head would have been sacred to
me. Go in peace, and find a refuge where you can
learn better and more patriotic feelings. My lips are
closed for ever upon your name. Repent and appre-
ciate my mtjtives. I deserve it, for they are noble
and generous. Madame Permon, my best wishes
1793-1795] --^'f NAPOLEO\''S COURT 63
follow you and your child. You arc feeble and
defenceless. May Providence and the prayers of a
friend be with you. Above all, be prudent and never
stop in large towns. Adieu ; recevez Dies amities."
Madame Permon passed the letter to Laura, telling
her in Greek to read it.
When they stopped to breakfast she showed it to
Salicetti, who exclaimed, " I am lost ! Ah ! they are
mad who believe in the prudence of women ! "
" You are more imprudent than an\' of us, mou
cher," remarked Madame Permon ; " at the same
time you pay my daughter and me a great compli-
ment, for you must have great confidence in our
generosity when in return for all we have risked \ou
speak in that injurious manner."
Seeing his error, he hastened to apologise, saying
that he was alluding to Mariette, but Madame
Permon only shook her head, saying —
" You had much better appreciate the noble con-
duct of Buonaparte, which is admirable."
"Admirable !" was the disdainful answer. "What
has he done? \\ ould }'OU have had him betray me?"
" I do not know what I would have of him,"
returned she, with a contemptuous smile, " but I
know that what I wish about you is that you were
grateful."
The secret had been betrayed by Mariette to the
servant of Napoleon, who was in love with her, in
spite of her affection for her mistress and Laura, who
by her culpable folly had been placed in the most
serious danger. Madame Permon would certainly
have lost her life if they had been discovered, and
nobody in the house would have escaped altogether.
64 A LEADER OF SOCIETY' [1793-1795
They travelled safely to Bordeaux, and on stopping
at their usual hotel found that M. Permon was in the
country. A friend of his, M. Emilhaud, told them
that they had tried in vain to find a vessel going to
Italy ; there would be none for a fortnight, neither
was there any starting, except for England, St.
Domingo, or America. Salicetti would not go to
any of those places and would run great risks by
staying in Bordeaux.
But the valet of M. Permon arrived with a message
from him that he had succeeded in arranging with a
man to let them have a sort of yacht to go up the
Garonne to Toulouse and on by the canal to Carcas-
sonne. The carriage could be put on board the
yacht and they could land and drive on to Narbonne
or Cette, where there were certain to be boats sailing
for Venice and Genoa. This would be much safer
than the road from Bordeaux to Montpellier. The
valet, Landois, told Salicetti that he was being looked
for and must embark at once. They went on board
at night and Landois with them. The carriage was
put on deck and covered up, so that no one could tell
what it was from the shore, and they started. It was
a lovely night. Laura and her mother sat on deck
talking in low tones as the boat glided through the
water, and gazing at the quiet country through which
they were passing, illuminated by the bright southern
moonlight. Tall trees throwing their dark shadows
on the dewy grass, silent fields and woods, here and
there an old gabled house or chateau ruined by recent
violence, a sleeping village, a church bearing marks
of desecration, its windows and doors shattered, grass
and weeds growing in the ancient porch, while its
•793-1795] l^' \'.il'Of.i:0\"S COCRT 65
priest was cither murdered or far away in prison or
exile and his flock left to live and die like heathens
and savages.
These reflections led them to speak of Laura's first
Communion, for which she had passed the usual age,
but which the danger — in fact, the impossibility — of
attending to religious duties had hitherto prevented.
She was most anxious that it should be no longer
delayed, and her mother promised directlv they
returned to Paris to arrange about it.
Just then Salicetti came on deck, and hearing
what they were saying, began to make blasphemous
remarks. The customs and manners in which Laura
had been educated not permitting a young girl to
give an older person the sort of answer he would
certainly receive in our own day under such provoca-
tion, she got up without speaking, turned away and
went down to the little cabin she shared with her
mother, where she sat by the open window looking out.
Presentlx' she heard Salicetti, who had taken her
place b)' her mother under the awning on deck,
carrying on a conversation which she could not help
hearing, but which filled her with horror.
As at first they spoke in undertones, she did not
distinguish what they were saying, but as the\- went
on and conversed in a more audible manner, it became
evident that she was the subject of discussion and
that it was a project of marriage for her that Salicetti
was pressing upon her mother, in reply to whose
objections that she could not endure him and was
too young, he said that she had the spirit of a heroine,
with talents and intelligence far beyond her age, that
he admired her all the more for hating the man whose
6
66 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [i 793-1 795
presence was a danger to her mother, and that he
would give Madame Permon an estate in Normandy
and pay all the expenses of her daughter's education
in Paris if she would consent to bring her to Italy in
two years, supposing he were not by that time free to
return to France, concluding with the representation
that it would be foolish to refuse such an offer, as M.
Permon was ruined and could give Laura no dot,
whereas she could secure to her all these advantages
and a good-looking husband of two-and-twenty.
" It cannot be himself, then," thought Laura with a
sigh of relief, and just then Madame Permon brought
the conversation to an end by saying that she did not
wish to be separated from her child and declined to
sell her, besides which the matter was for M. Permon
to settle and she was perfectly willing to abide by
his decision. She then rose, wished Salicetti good
night, and came down to the cabin, where Laura told
her that she had overheard the conversation and
asked who was the young man in question.
" I did not quite understand," replied her mother ;
" one of his nephews or cousins, he says, but I believe
he means himself"
" You must be joking ! " exclaimed Laura ; " why,
he is old enough to be my father ! "
" I am not joking at all," answered Madame
Permon, " but whether it is he or another, I am not
going to allow my Loulou to be taken from me in
any such way. Come and kiss me, my child."
Laura clung to her with the passionate affection
she had always felt for her mother, and the affair was
at an end.
The party arrived safely at Carcassonne and drove
'793-1795] -i'l' \'AI'OLEOX S COrRT (q
to Narbonne, but no boat Un- Italy could be found
there. They accordingh- went on to Cette, or rather
to Meze, which was a kind of suburb of that i>lace,
and took up their abode in a lonely inn surrounded
by a salt-water marsh. The landlord at once went
down to the port and found that a boat would sail at
nine that night for Genoa.
Salicetti even then wanted to wait two days longer
for the Trieste boat, observing that the solitude of
the inn made it safe enough ; but Madame Permon's
patience was exhausted, and she replied that it did
not suit her to stay any longer in that inn, that the
wind might not be favourable in two days, and that
he must go that evening.
The inn was not luxurious, but they sat down to
an excellent dinner of fish with the captain of the
ship that was to take Salicetti. He showed no
surprise on seeing the servant dine with them or
at anything that passed. Such incidents were easily
accounted for at that time.
Directly after dinner the captain announced that
the wind was rising and he should sail in an hour.
Laudois and some of the people of the inn carried
the luggage on board. Salicetti thanked Madame
Permon, sent a message of thanks to Napoleon, asked
permission to embrace Laura, and followed the captain
into the boat that pushed off towards the ship.
Full of delight and relief to have got rid of him
and to feel themselves once more in safet}', Madame
Permon and Laura slept at the inn, and the ne.xt
morning went on to Montpellier, enjoying the delicious
climate and the beaut)' of the countr)' through which
they travelled.
68 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1793-1795
At Montpellier they found a letter from M. Permon
saying that he was still detained at Bordeaux but if
Laura wanted to go. to the fair of Beaucaire they
could do so.
The two little towns of Beaucaire and Tarascon
stand opposite each other, their houses washed by
the Rhone, which flows between them.
The fair of Beaucaire, like those of Leipsic and
Frankfort, had long enjoyed a European reputation.
To it came traders from London, Paris, India, Russia,
in fact from all parts of the world. One of the
attractions was a strange kind of mediaeval procession
called the Tarasqiie, which, however, did not take
place that year, much to Laura's disappointment.
The disturbed state of the country made the mer-
chants and everybody else uneasy and spoilt the fair.
They only stopped in the quaint old town long
enough to see it, and then went on to Bordeaux,
where at length they found M. Permon, delighted to
meet them again but looking extremely ill. He
listened with great interest to their account of
what had happened, and when his wife told him of
Napoleon's generosity and Salicetti's slighting obser-
vation, he said, " I have nearly always remarked that
those who find the noble or generous conduct of
others a mere matter of course are incapable of it
themselves. And a person who has nothing to
revenge cannot put himself in the place of one who
holds in his hands the fate of the man who has
ruined him."
CHAPTER I\'
1 795- 1 798
SHORTLY after these events the rermons re-
turned to Paris, stayin<^ on their way at
the chateau of Madame Saint-Angc, who led
a simple country life there with her husband and
children. Long afterwards, when Madame Saint-
Ange was staying at Laura's house in Paris, and saw
her hurrying home to dress for some Court festivit}'
with scarcely time to speak to her children, she said
to her, " Well, are you happier now than when you
played with your cousins and gathered mulberries at
Saint Michel ?"
They arrived at Paris early in September, and
stopped at the Hotel de I'Autruche (formerly called
Hotel d'Autriche).
The journey had been very tiring, and when Albert
came to see them he was shocked at the appearance
of his father.
They sent immediately for their own doctor, who
asked for a consultation, but a bad attack of fever
still further reduced his strength.
Napoleon came directly he heard they were in Paris
and visited them ever\' day, sending them the news
of what was going on in the morning when he could
70 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1795-170^
not get there early, for Paris was again in a disturbed
and dangerous state.
He was sitting with them one evening when M.
Permon was so much worse that Madame Permon
wanted the doctor. Albert was not there, and none
of the servants dared go into the streets. Napoleon
said nothing, but ran downstairs. It was pouring
with rain, and there were no cabs to be got, but he
returned, wet through, with the doctor.
Paris was now like a besieged city. All night the
challenge and reply of the sentinels could be heard
under the windows. There was a strict search for
arms, and every man fit for service was summoned to
the section.
M. Permon was very ill one afternoon in October,
when three fellows forced their way into the sa/ou in
spite of the representations of the landlord, demanding
with brutal insolence why he had not presented him-
self, and on being told that he was ill in bed tried to
enter his room.
Napoleon arrived and found Madame Permon
defending the door, her indignant defiance having for
the moment stopped and disconcerted the ruffians.
He managed to clear the house, promising to go him-
self to the section and complain of them to the
President, but adding — ■
" Everything is on the brink of an explosion in
Paris to-day ; you must be most careful in all you do
or say. Albert ought not to go out. You must see to
all that. Mademoiselle Laurette, for your poor mother
is in a dreadful state."
Madame Permon had, in fact, a bad attack of
spasms, to which she was liable after any great agitation.
i7os-i7';^] •'/' \'.U'Oi.i:oxs corRi 71
M. Pennon became worse and worse all night, and
in the morninLT the well-known terrible sound of the
XAPOLEON AT ARCOLA.
(Gros.)
drums and the hurr\-ing tramp in the streets filled
them with fear.
72 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1795-1798
M. Permon, aware of his own danger, sent for his
lawyer, but he could not be found, the streets were
very unsafe, and as twilight drew on, though the
theatres were open, the tumult increased.
Napoleon had been in two or three times ; he came
while they were at dessert, drank some coffee, ate
some grapes, and hurried out again, saying that if
there was any interesting news he would come back.
However, he did not return, and everything looked
more threatening ; the street was bristling with
bayonets, and they were making barricades under the
windows. All that night and all the next day the
preparations and commotion went on, and about four
o'clock in the afternoon the first shot was the signal
for a cannonade which seemed to come from all over
Paris. The night that followed was a fearful one to
Laura. Amidst the deafening noise of the cannon
she watched by the death-bed of her father, while her
mother seemed in nearly as desperate a condition.
The next morning the firing ceased, order and calm
were re-established, but M. Permon only lived a day
or two longer, the agitation of that time had been too
much for him. His family were broken-hearted, and
during this time of sadness Napoleon was continually
with them and showed them all the affection of a son
and a brother.
Ever since they came to Paris Albert had been
arranging about a house for them, and had taken
one in the Chaussce-d*Antin, which, without being
very large, had room enough for Cccile and her
husband also, whenever they should come to
Paris.
Into this liousc they moved, glad to get awa}' ffom
i795-i7')«] '■"■ y.irOLEOX'S COrRT 73
the Hotel dc rAutruche, with its sad associations.
J^Lit now arose another trouble, the weight of which,
in spite of her extreme \outh, Laura was obli<^ed to
bear. The affairs of M. Permon were in such a state
that when he died there seemed to be nothin<j left
from which any income could be derived.
When Albert told his sister the result of the
examination of their father's papers, she at first
declared that it was impossible.
" Left nothing ! " she exclaimed. " And the mone\-
he took to England ? "
" There is not a deed, not a paper, not a trace of it.
M)' father always paid c\cr\thing as long as he was
at Bordeau.x, and since he came to Paris has told
Brunetiere nothing. Mother, as you know, never
spoke to him about money or business. As to me,
if he told me nothing when we were in England, he
was not likely to do so since."
"My God ! " exclaimed Laura, "this will kill mother.
She will never be able to bear hardships."
M. Permon had, in fact, had the foolish and mis-
chievous habit — which, however, is far less common in
Erance than in England — of entireh' concealing all
his mone\- matters from those to whom it was of \ital
importance to know them. His wife, when he married
her, was nothing but a beautiful child, brought up in
the greatest simplicity in Corsica, who knew nothing
even of household management, and spoke onl\-
Italian and Greek.
It was some time before she could speak Erench
properl)'. and her husband had got into the way of
managing everything, even the household arrange-
ments, while he surrounded her with ever}- luxur\-
74 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1795-179S
and pleasure, expecting her to do nothing but amuse
herself, entertain, and make the house pleasant.
Albert and Laura resolved that for the present
they would tell her nothing about the disastrous state
of their affairs. They had plenty of ready money
to go on with for some time, and Albert decided to
apply to Napoleon, who would get him a post which
would enable him to support his mother and sister.
For Napoleon had now not only the will but the
power to help them. An extraordinary change had
of late been taking place in his habits, circumstances,
and position. Far removed were the days in which
it had been a kindness to ask him to dinner, and
when, as he could not afford to take a cab, he would
come into the room with wet boots, which creaked as
he walked about and smelt when he sat by the fire
to dry them, excruciating the ears or the nose of
Madame Permon, whom he was then so anxious not
to displease.
Now, almost suddenly, he was an important
personage, was well dressed, always came in a well-
appointed carriage, and had a suitable house in the
rue des Capucines. He came to see them every day
just the same, only that now and then he brought
one of his aidcs-de-cavip, or his uncle Fesch.
Paris was suffering from scarcity of food ; there
was great distress in consequence, which Buonaparte
did his best to relieve. He caused distributions of
bread and firewood to be made, and often gave
Laura tickets for poor families to obtain them.
Many difficulties beset them in the arrangement
of their new home. Madame Permon, knowing
nothing about the state of their affairs, supposed
1 795-1798] AT X.U'Ol.KOXS COURT 75
that they were sufficiently well off. As to the money
her husband had placed in England when he saw
that things were going wrong, he had, contrary to
his custom, told her about it ; but his unfortunate
folly in never having explained or taught her any-
thing about business matters had made her incapable
of comprehending them, consequently she neither
understood nor remembered what he said. Accus-
tomed to the most lavish expenditure, she now
insisted on furnishing her house with all the luxury
usual at the time she first came to live in France
at the end of the reign of Louis XV., when the
splendour of the French monarch}- was at its
height.
She had a box at the Theatre Feydeau, for as her
deep mourning prevented her opening her sa/o?/ or
going into society, the solitude of her life preyed
upon her spirits and health. She went there every
evening for two or three hours, and was generally
joined by Napoleon. One da}' he told her that he
had a project to unite tiicir families by marriage.
" I wish," he said, " to marry Paulette to Permon.
He has some fortune" (tiie state of his affairs was
not }-et known) ; " my sister has nothing, but I am
in a position to do a great deal for my famil}', and
I can give her husband a good post. It is a marriage
that would make me happy, and }'ou know how
pretty my sister is. My mother is your friend.
Come, say }-es, and the affair shall be arranged."
Madame Permon said neither yes nor no, but
replied that Albert was his own master, that she
would not influence him cither wa}-, but that it
depended upon him.
76 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [i795-i79^
This marriage would have been suitable enough
in many ways, but Napoleon next proposed to
marry Laura to Louis or Jerome, his two youngest
brothers.
"Jerome is younger than Laurette," replied Madame
Permon, laughing. " Really, Napoleon, }'ou are like
a high priest to-day, marrying everybody, even the
children."
He laughed too, but with an embarrassed air,
and proceeded to propose that she should herself
marry him.
Such was her astonishment at this suggestion that
she first looked at him with stupefaction and then
went into fits of laughter. Perceiving, however, that
he was offended at this, she hastened to explain
that she was the person who would be made ridiculous
b)' such an arrangement.
" My dear Napoleon," she said, when she stopped
laughing, " let us be serious. You think you know
my age. Well, \'ou do not ; but I tell you that I
might not only be your mother, but Joseph's. Let
us leave off such jokes. I don't like them."
Napoleon assured her he was not joking, that he
cared nothing about her age as she did not look
thirty ; that he wanted to marry a woman who was
good, pleasant, charming, and belonged to the
faubourg St. Geniiain. He begged her to reflect,
which she promised to do, but gave him no hope of
a favourable result to her reflections, assuring him
that she had no pretensions to gain the heart of a
man of six-and-twenty, and that she hoped this
would not disturb their friendship.
But by this and another circumstance which took
1795-179^] 'i'i' S'.iPOI.EOX'S COCRI 77
place, the lon^^, affectionate, and intimate friendship
wliich had always existed between thein was de-
stroyed. They were never upon the same terms
again. It ha[)pcned in this way.
A cousin of Madame Permon, a certain Dino
Stephanopoli, had latel)' arrived from Corsica, and
asked her to help him to get a commission in the
army. She applied to Napoleon, who promised to
obtain it without delay from the Minister of War.
Two days afterwards Madame Permon inquired if
he had attended to the matter, and he told her that
he had done so, that he had the promise of the brevet
from the War Office, and would bring it himself the
next da)'.
That next day was, however, the one of his unex-
pected proposals of marriage, and when, after Madame
Permon's unfavourable reception of them, he was
sitting next her at dinner, she recurred to the subject,
asking him where was the brevet, which she considered
already hers.
Napoleon, who did not seem altogether to like this
peremptory manner of demanding rather than asking
a favour, pushed away his plate with an impatient
frown, and Madame Permon, who would not realise
the changed position of the extraordinary genius
whom she was accustomed to treat like a wilful lad
in need of advice, proceeded to make some half-
laughing but reproving remark u[)on his irritation,
lie excused himself, promising the brevet for the
next day without fail.
That evening when he was gone Madame i-'ermon
confided to her son the proposals of marriage she
had received from Napoleon, and asked him whether
78 A LEADER OE SOCIETY [1795- 1798
he wished to accept his offer of Pauline as his wife,
but he decHned.
On Monday morning Napoleon rode up to the
house, surrounded by a brilliant staff of officers, with
whom he entered the room, and approaching Madame
Fermon in the highest spirits kissed her hand, paying
her at the same time various compliments.
Unluckily, she had just received a long letter from
Stephanopoli full of ridiculous complaints of the
delay in getting his commission. Irritated by this,
she snatched away her hand and asked for the
brevet.
He replied that it was not ready, but that she should
have it on the following day, whereupon Madame
Fermon who was hasty, impetuous, and accustomed
to have her own way, flew into a passion, refusing to
listen to his explanations, and giving vent to her
anger in reproaches and taunts more vehement than
dignified, while the conversation which was going on
around them stopped, and amidst an embarrassed
silence all eyes were turned towards them.
M. Chauvet, a friend of both, interposed and tried
to make peace, but Madame Fermon would not hear
him and went on with her unfortunate and unsuitable
remarks in the hearing of Napoleon's aides-de-camp,
in spite of the remonstrances he addressed to her in
an undertone and in Italian. Seeing that she was
impracticable, he observed that he should hope to
find her calmer and more just another day, and was
about to kiss her hand in farewell, but she again
snatched it violently away and folded her arms with
a scornful smile.
With an imijaticnt gesture Napoleon bowed and
•7'^5-i79^] --''^" .\'APOLKO\S COrRT 79
turned away. M. Chauvet, seeing that the affair
was serious and that he was going slowly downstairs,
was anxious to recall him, but Madame Permon's
foolish obstinacy and loss of temper would not allow
him to do so.
Albert had, unfortunately, been absent at the time,
and was in despair when on his return in the evening
his mother told him what she had done, but the
mischief was irreparable. For several days the}' did
not see Napoleon ; then he called when he knew they
would be at the theatre, after which his visits ceased.
Shortl)' afterwards they heard that he had been made
Commander-in-chief of the army in Italy, and before
his departure they only saw him once under the most
melancholy circumstances.
It was on the ist February, 1796. Madame Permon
and Laura had gone up to the second floor of their
house, which was occupied by Albert, as he had a
bad cold and could not come down. Therefore the)'
dined and spent the evening in his rooms and were
talking and laughing merrily. Madame Permon had
an excellent marriage in view for Albert, and was
saying that if Laura were also married early there
was no reason why she should not have five-and-
twenty grandchildren.
Cecile had been confined about a month since, and
Madame Permon, remarking that she would make
a charming young mother and that she would like
very much to see her and her little son, leaned back
on her sofa and fell into a reverie. It was about nine
o'clock, and at that time, especiall)' in that quarter
of Paris, there was not much traffic in the streets.
There was a long silence, which was suddenly broken
8o A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1795-1798
by a loud knockini^ at the door, which startled
them all.
" The noise has made me feel quite ill," said
Madame Permon. " Who can be so ill-bred as to
knock in that way ? "
Steps were heard on the stairs, and a moment after
a letter was handed to Albert.
" Ah ! news of Cccile," said he ; " it's from Brive,
and in Geouffre's handwriting."
" Whom has he lost ? " asked Laura, for the seal
was black.
Albert tore open the letter and turned deadly pale.
"What does he say?" cried Madame Permon,
starting up in alarm.
"Cccile has been ill, but is better," faltered Albert ;
but his mother caught the letter out of his hand and
with a terrible cry threw herself upon her knees.
Cccile was dead.
Her illness had been sudden, and her husband and
all her family were plunged in the deepest grief. M.
de Geouffre came to Paris soon afterwards to see
them, and promised later on to bring the little
Adolphe, to whom Laura was always devotedly
attached.
Napoleon, on hearing next day of this new cala-
mity, came at once to see them and behaved with
much kindness, but Madame Permon was too over-
come to talk to him, and he left Paris almost unmc-
diately. He was then married to Josephine de
Beauharnais.
They were obliged to explain to Madame Permon
the disastrous state of their affairs, but the far greater
sorrows she had suffered rendered her almost in-
1795-179^] -iT XAPOLEOXS COURT «i
different to this, though she made retrenchments in
her expenditure. Just at that time the death of her
old friend, the Comte de Pcrigord, brought another
blank into her hfe. She became ill again, and the
doctors ordered her to Cauterets.
Albert had refused a post in India, as it would
have separated him for fifteen years from his mother
and sister, but he now received the offer of one in
Italy, for which they believed Napoleon was respon-
sible. This he accepted, and accordingly preparations
were made for their departure to their different
destinations.
If it had not been an absolute necessity Albert
would not have left his mother to the sole care of
Laura, then not thirteen )'ears old. But it could not
be helped, and Laura was far older than her years ;
so with many directions and promises to write con-
stantly they took a mournful leave of each other and
started, he for Italy and they for the P)'renees.
They made a long stay at Cauterets, and the health
of Madame Permon seemed to be quite restored by
the mountain air, the change of scene, and the
excitement of the journey.
They then returned to Paris and took up their old
life, so far as the altered state of society and things in
general permitted.
Among their friends at Paris were the Saint-
Mesmes, a Marseillaise family, with whom the>' were
on intimate terms. The custom of having two or
three children only had not yet begun in France, and
M. and Madame de Saint-Mesmes had six or seven.
Two of the girls were nearly of Laura's age, and for
their religious instruction there lived in the house
7
82 A LEADER *0F SOCIETY [1795-1798
a Benedictine nun, Sister Rosalie, whom M. and
Madame de Saint-Mesmes had protected during the
Terror, and who was deeply attached to them in
consequence.
The churches were now beginning to be re-opened,
though still only here and there ; and it was proposed
that the confirmation and first communion of the
children, so long deprived of those holy sacraments,
should be celebrated.
Sister Rosalie was collecting a class of young girls
for preparation, and invited Laura to join.
The nearest church to be had was still at a con-
siderable distance from the Chaussee d'Antin, being
the Church of Bonne-Nonvellc in the quartiey Pois-
sonicrc, in the sacristy of which the class was held
every morning at half-past eight by the cure of the
parish, M. de Cani, an excellent man, who was adored
by his parishioners and had risked his life rather
than leave them during the late perilous times.
Early in the morning Sister Rosalie went round to
the different houses to fetch the young girls and take
them to the church, where, gathered round the vener-
able priest, who had just escaped the perils of pro-
scription and was ready, like the carl}' confessors of
the Christian faith, to risk his life again at an}'
moment, they listened to his instructions with the
enthusiastic devotion called forth by the dangers and
persecutions which surrounded those who dared to
profess a religion in the reign of " liberty, equality,
and fraternity." The preparation went on for six
weeks, and the day appointed for the first communion
was Easter Monday, 1798, the confirmation to take
place on Easter Tuesday.
i795-i79«] iT XAPOLEOX'S COURT 83
Years had passed since any such spectacle had
been seen in France, and immense crowds assembled
to witness it. The church of Bo7inc-Nouvelle on
both days was so crowded that the children could
hardly pass up to the altar, and the bishop who con-
firmed was obliged to stand to administer that sacra-
ment upon the steps outside the church. Multitudes
of people, delirious with joy, were thronging the streets
outside, pressing into the church, many of them
shedding tears as they recognised a child, a sister, a
niece or a grandchild among the veiled, white-robed
girls kneeling at the altar, once more covered with
lights and flowers. Here and there among the crowd
were heard muttered prayers and ejaculations from
unwonted lips and murmured wishes from strange,
rough-looking spectators that the prayers of the
innocent children might help them too, whilst
women held up their little ones to the bishop, ex-
claiming, '" Bless him, bless him, Monseigneur ! Alas !
we shall perhaps never see you again ! "
CHAPTER V
1 798- 1 800
THE news from Italy was one long triumph.
Battle after battle was won by the young
Corsican leader, now the idol of France.
He had been very good to Albert, receiving him
as an old friend, and seemed much surprised that
xAlbert, who was very intimate with Joseph Buona-
parte, thought it best, in consequence of the quarrel
between his mother and Napoleon, to bring a letter
of recommendation from the former to the latter.
" What is this letter for ? " said Napoleon when he
saw it. " Why should you feel such distrust of
yourself? "
Albert replied that he was afraid the unfortunate
altercation with his mother might have disposed the
general unfavourably towards himself, to which
Napoleon replied, laughing, that he thought no more
about it, and was afraid Madame Permon bore him
more ill-will than he did to her, which was perhaps
natural, as she was in the wrong.
Albert had a post at Massa-Carrara, where he
entangled himself in a love affair with the wife of his
landlord and ran away with her, to the indignation
84
1798-1800] J LEADER OF SOCIETY 85
not only of her husband but of General Lannes, who
was quartered near Massa, and was in love with her
too. They [Hirsued and brouy,ht back the young
people, but the affair caused Madame Permon much
uneasiness, and her health was beginning to be
seriously affected again.
Napoleon was received in triumph on his return
from Italy, and entered Paris amidst the acclamations
of the people.
The Parisians, so long deprived of gaiety and
amusement, threw off the gloom and restraint under
which they were becoming every day more impatient,
and celebrated their victories by the most brilliant
festivities. One /Jie succeeded another ; money was
lavishly spent ; everybody joined eagerl\- and much
more indiscriminately in whatever pleasures came
in their way than would have been dreamed of
twenty years earlier.
Although she was onl\' fourteen years old, Laura
went everywhere with her mother. One night, at a
great party given by Talleyrand, who was then Foreign
Minister, at the Hotel Galifet, rue du Bac, they met
Napoleon walking with the Turkish Ambassador.
Madame Permon, who was with 1\I. de Caulaincourt,
bowed and was passing on, but General Buonaparte
came up, and, looking at her with much admiration,
for she was one of the handsomest women present,
he shook hands and remained for some minutes talk-
ing to her and Laura, thereb}' drawing the attention
of everybody upon them.
Soon after this, Madame I'ermon became so dan-
gerously ill that for some time her life was despaired
of. It was a terrible position for a girl scarcely more
86 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1798- 1800
than a child. Albert was still in Italy, and their
mother depended entirely upon Laura, who, with the
help of their faithful Alsatian maid, nursed her night
and day for six weeks. At length, however, contrary
to the expectations of the three doctors who attended
her, she began to recover, and by the end of the
autumn she was well again.
That winter was a very gay one. The expedition
to Egypt was decided upon, but thousands of families
were rejoicing at the return of fathers, husbands,
brothers, and sons ; the air was full of triumphs and
victories ; every one was in the highest spirits.
French society was at this time in a singular state.
Everywhere the strange mixture of classes and
opinions, brought about by the events of the last few
years, had entirely altered the composition and tone
of the salons of Paris. In that of Madame Permon,
like many others, now congregated a miscellaneous
crowd whose principles, education, manners, and
habits were so different as to render impossible the
sort of harmonious intimacy and confidence which
had formerly been usual, but on the other hand pro-
duced a great deal more variety, interest, and
excitement than were to be found in the old state
of things.
Thither came officials of the new Government,
officers of the army — many of them risen from
the ranks, visionary artists and literary men, to
whom even all the horrors only just past had not
taught wisdom, and who still hankered after a
Republic ; idiotic young men who called themselves
by classical names, wore Greek and Roman costumes
in the streets of Paris and believed themselves to
1798-1800] AT XAPOI.I-OXS COCRT S7
be capable of regulating the affairs (jf the State ;
and lastly those old friends and accjuaintances of
Madame Permon who belonged to the fanboufi^
St. Geriiuxitt and formed the largest part of the
society that gathered round her.
Since the rapid rise of Napoleon, Madame Bucjna-
parte and her other sons and daughters had come
to Paris. Joseph, whom, much to Napoleon's dis-
pleasure, the rest of his brothers and sisters persisted
in regarding as the head of the family, was hand-
some, pleasant and courteous in manner, a great
favourite amongst his friends and family, but with
no particular talents or ambition. His wife was a
gentle, sweet-tempered woman, whose sister, Uesirce
Clar}', had just been married to Bernadotte, afterwards
King of Sweden.
Lucien Buonaparte came next to Napoleon in
birth and talent. He was upright and honourable,
but a fanatical Republican, who called himself
Brutus, indulged in all sorts of preposterous follies,
and married the daughter of the innkeeper in the
little village of Saint-Maximin, which he persisted
in calling Marathon, and in which he had some kind
of employment. His proceedings excited the vexa-
tion of his family, especially of Napoleon, who was
very angr)' but could do nothing with him. Louis
was at this time about eighteen years old. He was
plain, delicate, shy and reserved ; had simples tastes,
hated society and public life, but was by many people
said to be the best of his famil}'. Jerome, of whom
there is not much good to be told, was then a boy at
school.
If Napoleon's brothers were wanting in ambition,
88 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1798-1800
the same could not be said of his sisters, all of whom
were inordinately vain, extravagant, and greedy for
power and money.
The eldest, Marianne, or, as s-he was sometimes
called, Elisa, was now Madame Bacciochi. She
seems to have been the least attractive of the three,
and was not generally liked. Pauline, now the wife
of General Leclerc, was extremely beautiful and
remarkably silly ; she was Napoleon's favourite.
Annunciata, afterwards called Caroline, was then at
the famous school of Madame Campan at Saint-
Germain.
Madame Leclerc came constantly to the house of
Madame Permon, who was very fond of her, and who
also visited all the other members of the family except
Napoleon, with whom the quarrel she had made about
Stephanopoli had never been made up.
The family and the wife of Napoleon hated each
other. Josephine, widow of the Vicomte de Beau-
harnais, was a Creole, and several years older than
her second husband. She was pretty, charming in
manner, and kind-hearted, but thoughtless, frivolous,
and extravagant. Napoleon had the greatest aver-
sion to her mixing herself in any way in political
matters, and desired that she would not speak of
them at all, saying, " Whatever you say is supposed
to come from me ; therefore say nothing upon those
subjects, so that my enemies, by whom you are
surrounded, may not be able to draw silly conclu-
sions from your remarks."
It was not in Napoleon's disposition to feel deep or
lasting affection for anybody but himself, and his
ideas about women belonged rather to the Oriental
1 798-1800]
AT NAPOLEON'S COURT
89
character than to Western civih'sation ; but at this
time, and in his own way, he loved Josephine. As
he told Madame Permon, he wished to marrv a
JOSKPHINK, E.MPKESS OK FKANCK. WIHO OV NAPOLEON" I., N1.E 1-ASCllKK DK LA
PAOERIE, WIDOW OK ALEXANDRE. VICOJITE DE BEAfHAKXAIS ( I7^>3-lSl4). '_'.
(Bclliard.)
woman of the old regime, and just then he found this
marriage suited his plans ; notwithstanding which,
nothing irritated him more than for it to be said, as
90 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1798-1800
it continually was, that he derived any advantage or
assistance from his wife, her connections, or friends ;
he was also jealous and tyrannical. Josephine, how-
ever, was much attached to him, and so were Eugene
and Hortense, her son and daughter by her first
husband, who had perished in the Revolution.
One of the most intimate friends of the Permons
was the old Marquis de Caulaincourt, who lived
within a hundred yards of them, and was constantly
in their house. His children and Laura were like
brothers and sisters, and she always called him
" Petit Papa." He wore the dress and preserved the
manners of the stately Court of the Bourbons, and
seemed to belong to a bygone age, though he was an
old friend of Josephine, and allowed his sons to
serve under Napoleon, which many young men of
good family were now anxious to do.
There were many others, however, who held aloof,
and the greater number of the returned emigres hated
Napoleon and looked with disdain upon his family,
who were already beginning to give themselves airs
of royalty, which made them ridiculous in the eyes
of all who had known the real court and royal
family of P'rance.
Amongst these was Madame de Contades, daughter
of the brave Marquis de Bouillc, who commanded in
the affair of Varennes, when the King and Queen "so
nearly escaped, and might have succeeded in doing
so if Louis had possessed any spirit or decision of
character.
Madame de Contades, without being a beauty, was
a woman of striking appearance and much admired.
She was one of the lately returned einign'es, detested
179S-1800] AT XAPOLEOXS COURT Qi
the vcr)' name of Napoleon, made li\;lit of his
victories, and lau;4hcd at his family, refusing even
to allow that Madame Leclerc was beautiful.
Just after the departure of Napoleon and the army
for Egypt, Madame Permon gave a ball, which was
attended almost exclusively by the faubourg St.
Genmmi, the only exceptions being a few men who
danced remarkably well and went everywhere, and
the Buonaparte famil\-.
Madame Leclerc spent a whole week in arranging a
toilette for the occasion, which she declared would
immortalise her, and about which she made as much
fuss and mystery as if it were an affair of State. She
asked Madame Permon to allow her to dress at her
house for fear anything might injure its freshness on
the wa)- ; and when she thought the right moment
for her appearance had come — that is to say, when
the rooms were tolerably full and yet not so crowded
as to prevent her from being observed — she entered
the ballroom and made her way to the place reserved
for her by Madame Permon.
A murmur of admiration greeted her, and she was
soon surrounded by a group of men, some of whom
had left Madame de Contades to come to her. She
had certainly succeeded in making the sensation she
wished: every one was talking about her and admiring
her beauty. Presently she moved her seat, and took
possession of a large sofa in the boudoir of Madame
Permon, which, being much more empty, she thought
would allow her toilette to be seen better than the
crowded ballroom, especially as it was brilliantly
lighted. All sorts of remarks of another description
mingled with the admiration expressed for her beaut)-
92 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1798- 1800
and dress, many of the woman exclaiming at the
insolent extravagance of the/c?nr;///^, who only three
years ago had scarcely food to eat.
Madame Permon was in anxious distress lest she
should hear any of these observations, when Madame
de Contades, who had the greatest contempt and
dislike for Pauline Leclerc, and was further irritated
because two or three of the men who were talking to
her had left her to join Pauline, came up and stood
near, looking at her and admiring in an audible voice
her dress, her face, her coiffure, her whole appearance,
in fact, till suddenly she exclaimed to the man
who stood by her, '^ Ah ! mon Dieu ! what a pity!
But how can such a deformity have escaped notice ?
Mon Dieu ! how unlucky ! "
Everybody turned to see ; all eyes were fixed upon
Pauline, who became crimson, while Madame de
Contades, with her looks directed to her head,
repeated in a compassionate tone, " What a pity ! "
and some one asked, " But what is it ? What do you
see ?" " What do I see? Could anyone help seeing
those two enormous ears planted on that head ? If I
had ears like those I should have them cut off, and I
really must advise her to do the same."
There was an end of Pauline's success for that
evening. She began to cry, and went to bed, where
Madame Permon came to see her the next morning
and listened for some time with patience while she
abused Madame de Contades, for she was fond of
Pauline and thought she had been hardly dealt with ;
but when, after saying that she could not see what
people found to admire in Madame de Contades, and
that there were many far more attractive women at
179S-1800] AT NAPOLEON'S COURT 93
the ball, Madame Leclerc proceeded to single out a
certain Madame de Chauvelin who was plain, short-
sighted, and had a bad figure, Madame l^ermon
exclaimed impatiently —
" But, Paulette, my dear child, \'ou are mad, quite
mad ! "
" I assure }'ou, Madame Permon, that Madame de
Chauvelin is very well dressed, is clever and not
sarcastic."
" Whether she is well dressed or not has nothing to
do with the question. As to wit, I know she has
plenty ; and if you think that she does not laugh at
anything ridiculous that comes in her wa)', just as
much as Mcrote " (Madame de Contades) "you are
uncommonly mistaken, my poor Paulette. And if her
short sight prevents her seeing, her husband has ver}'
good eyes, and can see everything for her, I can tell
}'OU."
That Madame I'ermon, charming as she was,
could not have been altogether discriminating in her
attachments is shown by her affection for Jerome
Buonaparte, a spoilt, troublesome bo\' with neither
brains nor gratitude, and for Pauline Leclerc, a
frivolous, empty-headed woman, who cared for
nothing but dress and flirting, and could not bear
any one to be admired but herself She even envied
her young sister Caroline, and grumbled when their
mother took her for a holida}\
One evening at Madame Permon's Madame Buona-
parte came in with Caroline, whom she had brought
from Madame Campan's school. Caroline had a
lovely complexion and fair, curly hair, which excited
the admiration of a man who was talking to Pauline.
94 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1798-1800
Therefore, when Caroline, in rather a rough, awkward
way, ran up to her to kiss her, Madame Leclerc
pushed her sister away, exclaiming — ■
" Mon Dieul Mamma, you really ought to teach
Annunciata not to be so brusque. She is just like a
peasant of Fiumorbo ! " 1
Caroline turned away with tears in her eyes, and
Madame Buonaparte said nothing, though much
displeased at this scene.
Some of the best balls given at this early period
after the Revolution were those of Madame de
Caseaux, whose husband had been President of the
Parliament of Bordeaux. She received nobody who
did not belong to the faubourg St. Germain. Her
daughter Laura and Melanie de Perigord were the
most intimate friends of Laura Permon. There were
subscription balls at the house of M. Despreaux, the
fashionable dancing-master, which were attended by
all his pupils and by many others besides.
' A savage district in Corsica.
CHAPTER VI
1800
OUT of the strife, disorder.s and confusion that for
some years had prevailed in France a new
calamit}- had arisen. A band of robbers called
chauffeurs, whose crimes made them the terror of the
whole countr)-, now infested not only the provinces,
but Paris itself. Numbers of those atrocious
characters produced, or at any rate brought forward
by recent events, flocked to join them, and they now
formed a large and powerful bod}' of daring miscreants,
from whose depredations and cruelties nobody seemed
to be safe.
In country places the villages and farms paid them
blackmail, or if any refused to do so, they were \ery
likely to be surprised some night, the house set on
fire, and the inhabitants murdered in their beds.
They were never caught, for no one dared to give
evidence against them, nor even to refuse to shelter
them from justice.
In different parts of Paris and the suburbs horrible
murders kept taking place, now and then even of a
whole family, and still the perpetrators were never
discovered. Even the sentinels or watchmen posted
about the city did not seem to do much good.
96 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1800
There was one a short distance from Madame
Permon's door, in spite of whose presence one night,
at about half-past twelve, while several people who
had been spending the evening with her were still
there, cries for help were suddenly heard in the street
and some of the servants waiting downstairs for their
masters, rushing out, found a man robbed and nearly
murdered, whom they were only just in time to save,
very suspiciously near the watchman in question.
Just after this, Madame Permon, having accident-
ally struck her head against the marble of her
chimney-piece, had a dreadful abscess, which for
many days caused her frightful suffering, and left her
so weak and ill as to require great care and perfect
quiet.
Albert was at this time living with his mother, and
was occupied in the affairs of some friends of his who
were starting a bank in Paris. They lived at Toulon,
Bordeaux, Narbonne, and Nimes, and had placed the
direction of their business in Paris in his hands. One
evening he came in with a commissionaire usually
employed in the house, carrying a heavy iron-bound
box or safe, and early the next morning he went out,
taking the same man and returning accompanied by
him, this time laden with a box still heavier than
before.
" Let him have a glass of wine, Laura," said he.
"Here, drink, my good fellow; you are very much
overheated, take care."
" Dame ! " exclaimed the porter. " I am accus-
tomed to heavy loads. Pm not a fine muscadin like
you ; you couldn't carry a quarter of what I carried
just now."
i8oo] AT NAPOI. FOX'S COURT «,7
Albert laughed, anci goinjr closer to the man, whom
he knew and trusted, he said significantly, but most
imprudentl)', " I carried more than double."
The man started and exclaimed, "Impossible!
Ah ! yes, yes, I understand."
He turned to go downstairs, but came back after a
few steps and said —
" Am I to go and order )-our cabriolet, citoyoi
Permon ? "
He asked this question because Albert was in the
habit of going into the country every dccadi, and
staying away for at least one night. He replied in
the affirmative, and the commissionaire went as usual
to order one from the livery stables, as Albert alwaj-s
on those occasions left their own horses for his mother.
Then he went to his mother's room to wish her good-
bye, l^ut he found her weak and low-spirited, and
when she heard he was going away she looked ready
to cry, and said she had scarcely seen him for two
days. Without telling her, he sent away the cabriolet
and went back to her room, where he sat with her
most of the day playing the harp to her and amusing
her. Later on several friends came in, and she was
so cheered up, that when she went to bed, as she
drank the bowl of milk she always took the last
thing, she remarked that she felt much better, and
should sleep well.
Albert went up to his rooms on the second floor,
the servants went to bed on the third floor, where they
all slept. The ground floor consisted only of the
porter's lodge, a subterranean kitchen, store-rooms
and offices. The first floor had two doors opening on
to the landing of the staircase. One led into an ante-
9^ A LEADER OF SOCIETY [iSoo
room, through which people passed into the dining-
room, then the drawing-room, the boudoir, Madame
Permon's bedroom, Laura's study, her bedroom and
another room in which she also 'kept some of her
books, her globes, &c. All these rooms opened out
of each other, and the last named had also a door
leading on to the landing, opposite the first named.
Laura sat by her mother till she fell asleep, and
then retired to her own room and took a book, mean-
ing to sit up for a time in order to be sure that the
invalid wanted nothing more. But Madame Permon
slept on tranquilly ; no sound broke the silence but
the measured tread of the sentinel by the Capucine
church, his monotonous " Qui vivc .?" or now and then
a carriage driving rapidly by. Little by little even
this sound ceased. Laura looked at the clock ; it was
a quarter to one. She got up with a yawn, intending
to go to bed, but suddenly became conscious of feel-
ing very hungry. Having sat up at night so much
lately, she had required supper, and had given orders
that some fruit or comfitures should always be put in
her room the last thing. It was evident, however,
that they had this time been forgotten, but as she
looked round the room, her eyes fell upon the key of
the opposite door leading into the dining-room, which
was always left there to enable her to pass that way
in the morning to practise on the piano without dis-
turbing Madame Permon by going through her room.
Laura remembered that there was always something
to be found in a cupboard in the dining-room, so,
taking her candle, she opened her door, crossed the
landing, and unlocking the door opposite, went in,
and as she expected, found some bread and preserved
i8oo] AT .\'AI>OLKO.\'S COl'k'T (><)
strawberries. Ilavinc^ put these on the table and sat
clown to eat them, she remembered that iier mother
might awake, call her, and be frightened if she did not
answer. So taking all the things back into her own
room, she returned to fetch the sugar, which she had
forgotten ; and then locking and bolting the doors,
she sat down again with great satisfaction to her
strawberries.
Presently she heard a noise at the bottom of the
house, and it immediately struck her that the servants
must be sitting up playing cards in the kitchen,
contrary to her express order that all of them,
cook, coachman, footman, and lady's maid, should be
in bed and the lights put out by midnight.
She listened, and in a few moments heard stealthy
steps upon the staircase.
"Just as I thought !" muttered Laura to herself.
" Well, I shall catch them in the act." And creeping
up to the door leading on to the staircase, she noise-
lessly drew back one bolt, waiting to draw the other
until the whole procession should be close to it.
Just then a sudden sound told her that someone
had stumbled over Madame Permon's bath, which was
always put out on the landing at night.
Irritated at the noise, which might awaken her
mother, Laura drew back the other bolt, and was just
turning the handle to open the door when all at once
it flashed into her mind that the servants knew where
the bath was, and consequently were not likely to fall
over it, and that even if they did they would have
laughed, whereas no sound of the kind was heard.
But if not the servants, then who, or what ? — and
softly, with trembling hands, she slid back the bolts.
lOo A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1800
and waited, almost paralysed with terror, listening
while the steps passed her door and began to go up
the staircase to the second floor. Being of wood,
it creaked beneath the heavy footsteps, which she was
now quite certain were not those of the servants,
unless, indeed, Antonio, Albert's Venetian valet, who
knew that the money was in his master's rooms, was
acting as their guide.
But the noise ceased, and for nearly ten minutes
Laura heard nothing. She began to wonder whether
her fears had got the better of her reason, and
the steps were after all only those of the servants.
Persuading herself that this might really be the case,
she sat down, and was just finishing her strawberries
when she heard the steps coming down again. This
time there was no mistake. What was to be done ?
The history of one murder after another committed
by the chauffeurs came into her mind. Only the week
before, near Orleans, they had killed two persons who
had given the alarm, and at Croissy, where they had
murdered several people, they had placed a sentinel
in the courtyard with orders to shoot the first person
who tried to get out.
If she were to give the alarm, Albert, hearing
her voice, would open his door, come out, and be
murdered at once.
Laura stood close to the door listening. The
chauffeurs came quietly down, avoiding the bath, and
stopped on the landing between her door and that of
the dining-room. Two of them sat down upon a
step, and by putting her ear close to the door, which
was so thin that it could have been broken open,
she heard a good deal of what they said, and soon
i8oo] AT XAPOLEON'S COURT loi
made out that Antonio was not amon^j them, but
that they supposed Albert to be absent, and knew
that there were from 70,cx)0 to 75,(X)0 francs in the
house, which only the porter could have told them.
They went on swearing at the Le Dru locks on
Albert's door, which had prevented their opening
it, and said that it was getting towards dawn (it was
July) ; that it was not worth while to go into Madame
Permon's room, and that that door belonged to la
petite. After a moment's silence she caught the
words, " Well, to-morrow !" and heard some pieces of
iron cautiously put down on the step. Then she dis-
covered that they were going to force the door of the
dining-room opposite to get the plate, and in a
moment, seeing that this would open her mother's
room to them, she rushed through the inner door
of her own and stood by her bed, calling gently
to her.
" Mofi Dieu ! what is the matter.^" exclaimed
Madame Permon, waking up and seeing her daughter
half-undressed, with a candle in her hand and a
terror-stricken face.
" The house is full of robbers ! " answered Laura.
Madame Permon sat up, seized hold of the three bells
by her bed and rang them till one broke.
"In God's name keep quiet ! " cried Laura, catching
hold of her ; " you will kill Albert ! "
" How? What? WHiere?" cried Madame Permon,
while the sound of the chauffeurs running downstairs
was immediately heard, and it was evident that
whilst two of them were sitting by Laura's door the
rest were occupied in trying to force the locks of
Albert's room. Madame Permon continued to ring
I02 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1800
and call until the whole house was disturbed. Albert
opened his door, in which a burglar's tool was stick-
ing ; the servants rushed downstairs ; and Laura
threw open the window of her study just as the two last
of the band jumped over the wall which separated
the courtyard from a large woodyard, in which
they had hidden themselves among the narrow paths
made by the piled-up faggots. By means of these
faggots they had got over the wall into the Permons'
. courtyard, and once there it was all easy enough. The
door of the woodyard was open when Albert, with
some of the police, went in to wake up the caretaker
and his famih', all of whom seemed to be fast asleep,
and suspiciously ignorant of what had happened.
A whole heap of burglar's tools were found by
Laura's door, and one of the police brought in a
faggot stained with blood, one of the villains having
fallen and hurt himself in his flight. None of them
were taken.
Madame Permon suffered less from the effects of
this adventure than might have been expected, but it
was a long time before Laura could get over the terror
she had gone through, especialh' when she reflected
that she had narrowly escaped meeting the cJiauffeurs
on the landing between the dining-room and her bed-
room, or throwing open her door and appearing in the
midst of them ; and that while she was getting her
strawberries and sugar in the dining-room they were
actually in the house.
An attack of fever was the immediate consequence
of all this, and when she and Madame Permon were
well enough they went to Dieppe for a change, but for
a considerable time she had a horror of crossing the
i.Soo] AT WlPOf.KOX'S COURT 103
landing from her room to the dining-room, or of
sleeping in the dark.
But although she had borne this terrible shock
so much better than her children had anticipated,
the health of Madame Permon, always extremely
fragile, and severely tried by the many sorrows and
vicissitudes of her past life, had now become seriously
impaired. She frequently suffered great pain, and
spent most of the day lying on a sofa or in an arm-
chair, going out very little.
Albert and Laura devoted themselves entirely to
her, and her unfailing spirits, love of music, and the
interest she took in ever\'thing that went on, made
her easy to amuse.
Every evening her sa/o// wa.s as full and as pleasant
as ever; some of her intimate friends came almost
invariably, and the time was passed either in con-
versation, music or dancing.
Laura was now nearly sixteen, and Madame
Permon feeling that her own life was uncertain,
and that her daughter had no fortune, was anxious to
establish her suitably as* soon as possible.
Two marriages were proposed to her, one of which
came to nothing for want of sufficient fortune. The
other suggested husband, though his position and
income were satisfactory, was so much older than
Laura, that Madame de Caseaux and other friends
remonstrated, declaring he was old enough to be
her grandfather.
Like most well brought up French girls of the time,
Laura was quite prepared to marry as her mother
directed, but to this particular man she took such a
violent dislike that although it never occurred to her
104 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1800
that she could refuse to marry him if her mother
insisted upon it, she declared that it would make her
miserable for life, and threw herself at the feet of
Madame Permon, who yielded to her entreaties and
broke off the negotiations with reluctance.
Just then General Junot returned to Paris. He
was a good-looking man of eight-and-twenty and a
great favourite of Napoleon, who was now First
Consul, and who had made him Commandant of
Paris, desiring him to look out for a wife without
delay, and adding that he must be sure to choose a
rich one.
Junot replied that she must also be one who
pleased him, and proceeded to make inquiries on
the subject, whilst he occupied himself in arranging a
/wfe/ and establishment on a sumptuous scale.
One day he happened to be at the house of a lady
who was a friend of the Permons. To her he
confided his wishes.
" Have you been to see Madame Permon since you
came back ? " she asked.
" No ; and I reproach myself every day on that
account. Why do you ask ? "
"Because I think her daughter would exactly suit
you."
" Her daughter ! But she was only a child when
I went to Egypt."
" She is not a child now, but a young girl. She is
sixteen. I am very anxious to arrange a marriage
for her myself at this moment, only her mother is
so obstinate about one she has set her heart upon
in which there is not common sense, for the man
is old enough to be her father. Now mine is a
i8oo] AT XAl'OLEOX'S COCRT 105
very nice )'ouni^ fellow and one of the first names
in France."
"Then in that case what can I do?" said Junot.
"You tell ine of a woman who has twenty suitors.
I don't like so much competition. Besides, Ma-
demoiselle Loulou, as I believe she is called, will
be sure to be a pretentious, spoilt little person,
insupportable. No, no ! /<• z'o/(s /niisc Ics iiiaiNsy
And he rose and took his leave.
But the next visit he paid was to a Madame
Ilamelin, also a friend of the Permons, who im-
mediately began the subject.
"Ah!" she said, "there is a young person I
should like you to marry — but she is engaged, it
is no use thinking of it."
" Then if she is going to be married cannot you
tell me her name ? "
" Oh ! ino)i Dii'H, yes ! You knew her when she
was a child. It is Mademoiselle Permon."
Junot laughed, and went on to ask several questions
about the young girl, which ended in his promising
to go with Madame Ilamelin to Madame Permon's
one evening. But meanwhile he consulted another
friend of Madame Permon, who told him that she
was bent upon carrying out the marriage which
was not then broken off; and feeling certain, from
what he knew of her, that she would persist in having
her own way, he made an excuse and did not go
to her house until the following September.
On the 2 1st of that month about a dozen
people were in Madame Permon's snloti, talking,
laughing, and acting charades, when suddenly the
door opened and General Junot was announced.
io6 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1800
There was a dead silence, for Junot, who had
expected to meet two or three people he knew there,
had mistaken the day and found nobody who did
not belong strictly and entirely to the faubourg St.
Germain set.
For a general of the Republic to appear un-
expectedly in a circle of anigrcs, most of whom
had only returned within six months, was undoubt-
edly awkward, and for the moment he looked em-
barrassed, but Madame Permon, perceiving the
situation, received him with such grace and courtesy
and so many friendly reproaches for his delay in
coming that he was at once at his ease, and before
he left ventured to invite her to go the next day
to the Hotel de Salm to see the procession pass
from the Musee des Augustins to the Invalides
with the body of Turenne, which had been saved
when the tombs of Saint Denis were desecrated
by the brutal mob in the Revolution, hidden for a
time in the Jardin dcs Plaiites, and was now to be
buried again with military honours.
Junot, as Commandant of Paris, was the director
of that ceremony, and was not unwilling that his dis-
tinguished position should be recognised by Madame
Permon and her daughter, to whom he paid marked
attention. They found a private room reserved
for them at the Hotel Salm, to which he had sent
chairs, cushions, a reclining chair for Madame
Permon, and his German valet to await her orders.
P"or the next ten days he never missed an evening
at Madame Permon's, where he sat by her side talking
to her or to any of his acquaintance he met there,
but never speaking to Laura or approaching the
i8oo] AT XAI'O LEON'S CO CRT 107
group of young girls among whom she was. On
the 1st of October Madame Permon gave a dance,
at which the De Caseaux were among the first to
arrive, and Mademoiselle de Caseaux, taking Laura
apart, complained that she had treated her with
a want of confidence in not telling her of her
approaching marriage.
Laura at once feared that the marriage she
so dreaded was again in question, and her face of
consternation made her friend exclaim —
"Isn't it true, then? Are you not engaged to
General Junot?"
" General Junot ! " cried Laura, much relieved.
" Arc you out of your senses? \Vh\-, I hardly know
him. And is it likely that he would want to marry
a girl with no fortune wlien he is the favourite of the
First Consul and one of the first partis in Paris ?
When did you hear that wonderful news?"
" M. d'Aubusson de la P'euillade told us to-day
at dinner," replied the young girl, whose mother
just then approached and repeated her daughter's
remark.
" It must be a trick to torment mc ! " exclaimed
Laura. " And you, Madame, who are always so
kind, how can you believe any such thing? Is
not Laura my best friend and if there were any
secret of that sort would not she be the first to
know it ? "
Having convinced and embraced her friends,
Laura begged them to say nothing to Madame
Permon, who would be sure to be angry and vent
her indignation upon some one, most likel}- upon
M. d'Aubusson, who had just come into the room.
io8
A LEADER OF SOCIETY
[1800
General Junot presently arrived, apparently in
high spirits, and made his way to Madame Permon,
JLNur, GOVERNOK Ol' PARIS AND UIX DABRAXTK^
by whose side he remained, talking and laughing
with her and paying her great attention.
" Dicii ))ic pardonnc ! " exclaimed Laura de
i8oo] AT XAPOLEOX'S COCh'T 109
Caseaux ; "one woultl think M. d'Aiibiisson had
made a mistake and General Junot was i;oin<^
to marry your mother."
" Well, it would not be suprisint^." replied Laura
Permon, "for my mother is charming ; and see how
pretty she looks this eveninj^."
Madame Permon, in fact, looked lovel>- ; her illness
had not \'et injured her beauty, to which nothing
could be more becoming than the st)']e of dress she
had latterly adopted : long, flowing peignoirs of the
finest Indian muslin, trimmed with Malines or point
lace, with a headdress of the same lace.
M. de Trenis, who was celebrated for his dancing,
came up and asked Laura to dance a gavotte with
him, and when she refused appealed to Madame
Permon, who desired her to do so. Can one imagine
in these days a man with whom a girl had refused
to dance asking her mother to make her, and that
mother complying with his request ?
The evening was as amusing and successful as
Madame Permon's parties always were. When everv'
one was gone, and Laura found herself alone in
her room, she began to think that perhaps she had
better tell her mother what was being said ; so
the next morning she related to her all the remarks
of Madame de Caseaux and her daughter, and as
she expected Madame Permon put herself into a
state of excitement and irritation, declaring that
such a report would do Laura harm, and must have
been set about by somebody who had a spite against
them.
" And then if General Junot marries Madame
Leclerc, which I hear is very likely, people will say
no A LEADER OF SOCIETY [i^^oo
that his marriage with my daughter has been broken
off!"
" Really, mother," said Albert, " you are not reason-
able. Just for a few words carelessly spoken "
"It is all very well, " replied she; "but do you
suppose that just at the time when your sister
has obstinately refused one good marriage and
circumstances have prevented another, it is likely
to be very pleasant for me to hear her name con-
nected with that of a man she can never marry
at all ? No, no ; it is most disagreeable."
" Perhaps you are right," said Albert. " I did
not think of that. What is to be done ? "
" Oh, won Dien ! it's very simple. I shall tell
Junot how it is, and ask him to leave off coming
here."
Albert smiled, hesitated, and turning to Laura
told her that her drawing-master had come and
was waiting for her. Laura ran away to her lesson,
forgetting all about the question under discussion,
and Albert, when she was gone, told his mother that
it would be a pity to act as she proposed.
" Eh ! Why not, if it suits me ? " was the answer.
" You must do as you choose, mother ; but I can't
change my opinion."
" At any rate give me a reason."
"Well, if you really want to know, I think Junot
is in love with my sister."
" You don't say so ! "
Albert said nothing, but walked slowly up and
down the room.
" What makes you think so ? " continued his
mother.
iHoo] .If \Al>OI.i:0.\"S COrRT 111
" Has he said anytliii^Lj^ to you ? "
" Not a word, but what I have noticed is quite
enough for me. However, I may be mistaken, liut
I will go this morning and see Madame Hamelin ; if
there is anything in it she will know and she will tell
me the truth. I shall ask her in the interest of
Laurette, and she is very fond of her."
" Ah ! " cried Madame Permon, " such happiness is
not reserved for me before I die. I would rather
have Junot for my son-in-law than any man I know.
Poor Laurette ! No, no, my son, you are mistaken."
At that moment a carriage drove up to the door.
Madame Permon, who was still in bed, was about to
ring and say she could not see any one, when Albert
looked out of the window and exclaimed, " It is
Junot ! "
"Junot ! " cried Madame Permon. " What can he
want at this time? Yes, yes ! let him come up," as
her maid came to ask if she would see the General.
" And you stay here, Albert."
Junot very soon made his apjjearance, and sitting
down by Madame Permon explained that he had
come to ask her consent and Albert's to Laura
becoming his wife. After their consent had been
given and they had all embraced each other and
regained their composure, he asked, as a special and
unusual favour, to be allowed to speak to Laura
himself, and hear her decision from her own lips.
Madame Permon exclaimed that such a thing was
unheard of, but on his saying that he only wanted to
ask her in the presence of her mother and brother,
Madame Permon gave her permission, and Albert
was sent to fetch Laura. When Junot repeated his
112 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1800
offer, entreating her to say whether she would marry
liim of her own free will, she was so astonished,
confused, and frightened that she became crimson,
sat speechless for a few moments, and then jumped
up and ran upstairs, where Albert followed and found
her hidden in an attic, crying.
Junot meanwhile was filled with consternation,
reproached himself vehemently for distressing her,
and stamped his foot on the ground with an
exclamation more suited to a barrack-room than
to the society in which he now was. Madame
Permon remarked that she had told him his plan
was absurd and that she would advise him not to use
such expressions before Laura, who would not like
them at all ; and Albert, returning from upstairs,
announced that his sister was perfectly willing to
accept him.
Madame Permon's next question was how he had
gained the consent of the First Consul, to which he
replied that he had not asked for it.
" What ! " exclaimed Madame Permon. " He
does not know it ? And you come and ask for my
daughter in marriage. Allow me to say, my dear
General, that your conduct is very thoughtless."
"May I ask in what I am to blame, Madame?"
" How can you ask ? Don't you know the cool-
ness and misunderstanding which have succeeded
the friendship that existed between the First Consul
and me ? Do you suppose he will agree to my
daughter becoming your wife, more especially as
she has no fortune? And what shall you do now if
he refuses his consent ? "
" I shall do without it. I am not a child, and in
i8cx)] AT XAPOLEOX'S COirRT 113
the most important event in my life I shall consult
my own happiness, not petty quarrels which don't
concern me."
" You say you are not a child," cried Madame
Permon ; " and yet you reason as if you were six
years old. Can you break with your friend and
protector because >'ou want to make what he will
call a bad marriage ? — that is to say, a marriage with-
out fortune, for this is the reason he will give you ;
he is not likely to tell you it is because he does not
like me. And what will you do when he gives you
the choice between my daughter and himself?"
" He will never do so," replied Junot, "and if he
could so far forget my services and my attachment, I
should still be a faithful son of France, who would
never repulse me. And I am a general."
"But do you think we could accept such a
sacrifice? Although my daughter is only sixteen,
you cannot have so misjudged her as to imagine
she would so abuse her influence over you."
" My dear General," interposed Albert, " it seems
to me that you have been rather hasty in this matter,
but I think it can easily be arranged. I do not
agree with my mother that the First Consul is likely
to interfere in a question of this kind."
Junot looked at his watch, seized his hat, and said,
" I will go to the Tuileries. The F'irst Consul is not
yet at the Council. I will speak to him and be back
in an hour."
He ran downstairs, sprang into his carriage, drove
to the Tuileries, and meeting Duroc, inquired for the
First Consul. Shortly afterwards he was shown into
his study.
9
114 '4 LEADER OE SOCIETY [1800
" Mon Genera/," he began, " you said you wished to
see me married. Well, the thing is done — I am
going to marry."
" Ah ! ah ! And have you, by chance, just
carried off your wife ? You look very much
excited."
" No, ;/ion General "
" And who are you going to marry } "
" Somebody you knew as a child and liked very
much, of whom every one speaks well, and with
whom I am madly in love. It is Mademoiselle
Permon."
Napoleon started up and caught Junot by the arm.
" Who did you say ? " he cried.
" The daughter of Madame Permon, the child you
have held so often on your knees, iiion General!'
"It is not possible ! Loulou cannot be old enough
to be married. Why, how old is she ? "
" Sixteen next month."
" But it is a very bad marriage for you ; she has
no money. And besides — how can you wish to
be son-in-law to Madame de Permon ? Don't you
know that, woman though she is, you will have to do
what she pleases ? Cest une riiele teteT
" Permit me to observe, mon General, that I do not
marry my mother-in-law. And then I think — — "
and he hesitated.
" Well, apres, what do you think ? "
" I think, mon General, that the disputes between
you and Madame Permon have perhaps given you
a prejudice against her. I know she is surrounded
by many old friends, and I see the love her children
have for her."
i8oo] AT \'ArOLEO\''S COURT 115
Gradually Napoleon yielded to the representations
of Junot, and ended by saying that he would give
him a hundred thousand francs for the do^ of his
fiancee and forty thousand for the corbeille, and the
affair was settled.
The mother, brothers, and sisters of the l^'irst
Consul were delighted at the marriage, but for some
reason it did not please Josephine, and the friends of
Madame Permon urged her to push on the prepara-
tions for the wedding and let it take place, as Junot
desired, before Laura's sixteenth birthday, lest by
any intrigues it might be broken off Madame
Permon scouted the idea of any such danger and
declared that considerations of this kind were
beneath her own and her daughter's dignity, but the
precarious state of her own health made her anxious
to get the wedding o\'er, and she i)romised Junot that
it should be on the twentieth of that same month.
When Laura was told this, she objected vehcmentlv',
and declared with tears that she did not want to be
married till after Christmas. Albert tried to comfort
her and induce her to be married on the day fixed,
and M. de Caulaincourt, who had just come to
dinner, added his persuasions to the rest, assuring
her that she must be a good child and be married
when her mother wished, and that now she was
engaged the sooner the wedding took place the
better, as nothing was less convctiable than a young
fiancee who went all the winter from one fete to
another and was neither dame nor demoiselle.
By which arguments Laura was so far convinced
that she consented to the thirtieth of the month
being decided upon.
ii6 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1800
Many of Madame Permon's friends of the
Faubourg St. Germain strongly disapproved of
Laura's engagement, saying that although her father
had been bourgeois, her mother was not, and that she
would have done much better to marry her daughter
in her own set.
Madame Permon paid no attention to what they
said, but hurried on the preparations for the wedding.
She and Junot vied with each other in the splendour
of the trousseau and corbeille.
Junot's family had come to Paris for the marriage.
They were people entirely different from Laura and
her mother in education, habits, and social position ;
but his mother was a woman so kind, gentle, and
unselfish, that Laura very soon became extremely
fond of her. She got on very well also with his
brother and sisters, and managed to keep on good
terms with his father, an ill-tempered, disagreeable
old country lawyer, who must have been a con-
siderable trial. In fact, she was extremely good to
them all, to the great relief of Junot, who had looked
forward with much uneasiness to their meeting.
At the signing of the contract Laura heard with
astonishment her mother's lawyer, when he read
the document aloud, announce that she had a dot
of 60,000 francs, derived from money left by her
father, 12,000 francs for her trousseau, and 50,000
francs from M. Lequien de Bois-Cressy, an old
friend of her father's, who hoped to become the
second husband of Madame I^ermon should she be
restored to health, and settled this sum on Laura
as his future step-daughter.
Knowing perfectly well that her father had left
i8oo] AT \'AI'0/.EO\''S COrRT 117
nothing for her to inherit, but that her education
and all the expenses of her mother and herself
had been jjaid b}' Albert, she asked as soon as she
could speak to him alone, what was the meaning
of it.
" Say nothing about it," replied he. " Vou know
that my mother and you are all I have to care
for in the world, and your happiness is my first
consideration. The thing is simple enough, dear
child. You are m.aking a great marriage, greater
than w^e could have hoped for. Junot insists on
coDimunautc de bicus between you. It would not
do for you to bring nothing into such an arrange-
ment, it would be out of the question ; therefore
I am giving you some money I have to dispose of
If ever we find that sum my father placed in
England, )'Ou can rcpa}- me ; if not, it is }-ours —
I make you a present of it ; but as it would not
be proper that you should receive your dot as a
present, I made Tricard say that it came from our
father."
Next day, according to the usual custom, Junot
and Albert took the contract to be signed at the
Tuileries. Napoleon spoke very kindly of Laura
and her mother, and ordered it to be read to him.
When it was finished he took Albert b)' the arm,
drew him on one side, and said —
" Fermon, I remember quite well that \-our father
left nothing at all. At the time of his death I used
to be at \-our mother's every da\-, and )'ou know .
doubtless, that I then wanted to marry }'ou to my
sister, Madame Leclerc, and betroth Mademoiselle
XyOuloq to that mnuvais sii^'et, Jerome." He did not
ii8 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1800
mention the other marriage he wished to make on that
occasion, " Well," he continued, " Madame Permon
told me that her husband left no fortune whatever,
so what is the meaning of all this?"
Albert explained, begging that the First Consul
would not mention the matter.
" You are a good fellow, Permon, you are a good
fellow," said he ; " and you let yourself be forgotten,
but I shall look after you. Why have I never seen
you at the Tuileries since I have been there? How-
ever, your brother-in-law will now remind us of
each other."
Not long afterwards Albert received the appoint-
ment of Commissary-General of Police, of which posts
there were only three in France.
Two days before Laura's wedding a circumstance
took place which very nearly broke it off.
As Commandant of Paris, Junot had the right to
be married at any niairie he pleased, and as he had
a friend, M. Duquesney, who was Mayor of the 7th
ai'Tondisseinent, he asked Madame Permon whether
she thought Laura would mind the ceremony being
performed there.
Madame Permon said she did not think so, but
would send for Laura, who replied that her mother
must settle all that, the only objection she saw
being that it was rather far to go, adding —
" If that iiiairie were as near as our church, I
should not be afraid of tiring my mother." So
saying, she left the room without noticing Junot's
look of astonishment. When she was gone he
turned to her mother and asked if she expected the
marriage to take place in a church.
i8oo] AT XAPOLF.OX'S COURT lU)
"In a church?" cried Madame Permon, starting
from her chair. " And where else do you suppose
she intends to be married ? Before your friend witli
the scarf? M)- dear cliild, j'ou must ha\e lost )'our
senses. Did \'ou imas^ine for an instant that not
onl\- m}' daughter, but her brother or I, would allow
a Republican marriage? Such a thing is absolutel}-
against our principles, and I can tell you that Laura
will not thank you if you suggest it to her."
Junot walked up and down the room much
disturbed. " Will you allow me to speak to
Mademoiselle Loulou about this alone?" he asked.
" On the terms we now are there could be no
impropriety."
" You don't know what you are talking about,"
replied Madame Permon. " As long as you are not
Laura's husband you are a stranger to her, and
what you are going to tell her won't make you very
good friends either, l^esides, what secret can there be
about it? Why should you not wish me to hear?"
" Because it must be discussed with calmness," he
replied. " But I can speak to her in the drawing-
room, with the door into your room open."
Laura received his proposition with astonished
indignation. To his representations that he could
not appear, as Commandant of Paris, in uniform
amongst the crowd that would collect round the
church to see what was still so remarkable a
spectacle, Laura replied that she saw no reason
why he should object to be seen accomplishing a
religious duty which nobody would think of neglect-
ing, unless it were the Turks, whose example she
hoped he did not propose to follow.
I20 A LEADER OF SOCIErV [1800
Junot tried to persuade her that the rehgious
ceremony was unnecessary, and might cause him
serious results, for while to her it was only a fancy,
to him it meant a public profession of religion.
Laura answered with spirit and decision that if
it were so, she would ask him in what religion he
had been brought up, and why, having been baptized,
confirmed, received the Communion and confessed
in the Catholic faith, when it was a question of
another sacrament, that of marriage, he should
suddenly wish to act like an infidel ; that she
was too young to eriter into controversy, but that
of one thing he might rest assured, that their
marriage would either be celebrated in church or
not at all ; and that she declined to discuss the
matter any further ; saying which, she got up and
left the room, observing as she went out that she
was sorry Junot could have thought her capable of
accepting such a proposal.
Any one who has had experience of family
routs (and who has not?) can easily imagine the
general consternation, in the midst of which a
servant announced that Mademoiselle Olive and
Mademoiselle de Beuvry had come ^^'ith the
tr07isseau and corbcillc.
"Junot, Junot! will you hold your tongue?" cried
Madame Permon, as Junot stamped his foot with
an oath ; and Albert went to Laura's room, where
he found her much distressed, but declaring that
about this matter she would decide for herself It
appeared that all this commotion had been caused
by the First Consul, who, having a few da}'s before
narrowly escaped assassination by a fanatic, who
iHoo] AT XAPOI.F.OXS COrRT 121
accused him of attemi)tinf^ to destroy the repubh'can
institutions, had privately requested Junot not to
be married in a church by day, lest that [iublic
profession of religion should confirm the suspicions
of its enemies. He had added that " in case the
family insisted on a religious marriage it could take
place at night, and Junot, who regarded the First
Consul as a god upon earth, had not only obeyed,
but exceeded his instructions by never mentioning
the alternative at all.
To this arrangement Madame Permon and Albert
saw no objection, and Laura was persuaded to agree
to it, though she did not like it because it reminded
her of the Terror, when }-oung people could onl)-
receive the priest's blessing on their marriage in
haste and secrec}' at the peril of their li\-es and
his ; also because she said they could not then
have the usual Mass at the marriage, but this Junot
arranged satisfactorily, saying that if the wedding
took place at midnight the Mass could be celebrated
after it. And with many apologies for having vexed
her, Junot departed, and Laura went to look at her
trousseau and corbcille.
The marriage took place as agreed upon. Laura
wore a long dress of India muslin, high, with long
sleeves, richly embroidered and trimmed with lace,
and on her head a large lace veil wh'ch fell all around
her, fastened with orange flowers. She was very
dark with masses of splendid dark hair, more attrac-
tive at that time than regularly pretty.'
Junot was accompanied to the iiiairic by his own
famil)' and two or three of his brother officers ; Laura
■ She .soon developed into a beaviiiful woman.
122 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1800
by her brother, her uncle, Prince Demetrius Com-
nenus, who had emigrated and came from Munich
on purpose, and by two or three old friends of her
parents.
Crowds assembled to see the marriage of the Com-
mandant of Paris, and the ''Dames dc la Halle" of evil
renown, deputed four of their number to offer enor-
mous bouquets to the bride. They were admitted into
the salon, where they presented the bouquets to
Laura and embraced her ; and after the midnight
marriage and Mass, she was conducted with music to
the splendid hotel which was to be her new home.
CHAPTER VII
1800
JUNOT had, in spite of the remonstrances of
Madame Permon, insisted on giving a dinner
the day after his wedding to several of his
brother officers. Madame Permon was horrified at
an idea so contrary to the usages of society, and
assured him that it was Hke a carpenter's apprentice
celebrating his wedding festivities at La Courtille. As
he would not listen, she, as a last resource, proposed
to invite the guests to her own house instead.
" But will they come, as the)' don't know me ? "
"Without the least doubt," replied Junot.
Invitations were therefore sent to Duroc, Bessieres,
Lannes, Eugene de Beauharnais, Rapp, and several
others, renowned generals of Napoleon, but, with the
exception of PLugene de l^eauharnais, much more
suited to a camp than a civilised drawing-room.
Besides these were invited numbers of Madame Per-
mon'sold friends, who for the first time were seated
at dinner with the l^uonaparte family, nearly all of
whom were present except Napoleon and Lucien ;
and afterwards the crowd of strangely assorted guests,
looking askance at each other as they walked about
•23
124 ^ LEADER OF SOCIETY [1800
the rooms, where they assuredly had never met
before, composed altogether the most extraordinary
and interesting assembly in which Laura had ever yet
found herself For to her they were intensely inte-
resting, all these young generals with famous reputa-
tions and dreadful manners, whose names she had so
often heard, whom she had so much desired to see, and
upon whom her mother's friends of \hQ faubourg St.
Gerniaiu looked with scarcely concealed disdain. It
was bad enough, they thought, to meet the Buonapartes,
but these rough, unmannerly fellows, with their loud
voices, boisterous laughter and awkward movements !
That Panoria Comnenus should have married Charles
Permon had been — well — marrying out of her own
set. Still, M. Permon was a thorough gentleman, a
scholar, and a man of the world, and his friends were
cultivated people of good position.
To marry Laurette to one of these unpolished
parvetius was quite another matter. However, he was
very rich, a gallant soldier, and as favourite of the
First Consul had a great career before him ; and he
was Comrnandant of Paris, And for the sake of old
friendship they came to this party given in Laurette's
honour, but they treated the intruders with a polite-
ness too exaggerated to be complimentary, and
evidently clue only to their deference for their hostess,
while from time to time a significant glance, a
mocking smile, or a contemptuous whisper was rapidly
exchanged as some absurd speech or outrageous
breach of good manners attracted their attention.
Madame liacciochi, who went in for being literary
and assumed the character of a feniine if esprit, had
taken it into her he^id to institute a sort of club or
i8oo] AT X A POL FOX'S COl'k'T 125
society of women of cultivated tastes, all of whom
should wear the same costume, which she devised and
wore herself this eveninf^. It proved, however, to be
more a warning than an example. It consisted of a
huge muslin turban embroidered with gold and a
wreath of laurel over that, a long sleeveless tunic, and
an immense shawl worn like a cloak. It was a
toilette, as Laura remarked, partly resembling a
Greek, a Roman, a Jewess -anything, in fact, but
a well-dressed Frenchwoman, and she exclaimed—
" To see Madame Bacciochi dressed up in such a
manner does not surprise me, for I am accustomed to
it ; but to hear her say that that is a costume for
Christian women who fear God to wear is out-
rageous ! "
One of the few members of the faubourg St.
Gennaiu who seemed prepared to enjoy himself that
night was Monsieur de Caulaincourt, who came
up to Laura with all the affection of an old friend
and the courtesy of a well-bred Frenchman to offer
his congratulations, after which, turning away into the
crowd, he met Rapp, a stout, awkward-looking man
about the age of Junot, whom he had often seen at
the Tuileries, and who cried out —
" Why, what the devil are you doing here ? "
"■Mafoi!" he answered,"! have more right than
you to ask that question, considering that I have
known Madame Permon for five-and -twenty years
and never seen you in her house before. How do
you come to be dining here to-day?" And turning
away, he went up to Laura and asked her whether
that fellow had called on them.
" No."
126 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1800
" Impossible."
" I assure you it is true."
" But at least he sent his cards ? "
" No."
" Oh ! come, my dear child, that is not possible.
You have been too busy with your trousseau to see
him, for it is incredible that a man who is received to
dine at the table should take his place at that of
une feuinie comme il fant as if it were a table d'hote
without first presenting himself to her and "
Just then Rapp came up without being heard and
cried out behind him —
" What are you saying there, dear father? Come,
leave the place open for me. At wedding fetes old
people do penance." And seizing him in his arms, he
carried him some paces off.
M. de Caulaincourt shook him off with a vigour
very unexpected from an old man, and observ-
ing coldly, '• Colonel ! you and I are neither young
enough nor old enough for such games," he turned
to Laura and offered her his arm, saying, " Will
you come and see what is going on in the next
room ? "
Junot found them sitting together, Laura in despair
at the result of their first attempt to amalgamate old
and new, trying to console M. de Caulaincourt, who
indignantly declared that Rapp should give him satis-
faction.
Junot, with many apologies, assured him that Rapp
did not know how to behave in society, but was the
best fellow in the world, and meant no harm.
" I will speak to him at once, and you will see."
" No, no, on no account. I don't want you U)
i8oo] AT XAPOLEONS COrh'T 127
beg for excuses for me. Colonel Rapp has insulted
me ; he must understand and apologise, or else "
Hut Junot hurried away, and presently returned
with Rapp, who was ready to throw himself on his
knees before M. de Caulaincourt, and full of apolo-
gies to him for his rudeness and to Laura, to whom
he said Junot told him he had been wanting in
respect in acting so in her j^resence.
Touched by his repentant simplicity, M. de Cau-
laincourt shook hands and declared they would be
friends ; but Madame Permon was not so forgiving
She could not endure people with such manners, and
when she heard the story she was so angry that she
could scarcely be induced to receive Rapp with
civility as long as she lived.
Laura looked with very different eyes upon her
husband's friends. She had never known the old,
stately, well-bred society so dear to her mother, and
though a devout Catholic and sincerely attached to
her mother's old friends, she was in most respects
a child of the Revolution, or at any rate of the new
order of things which had arisen out of it.
Without any sympathy for the Republic, whose
bloodthirsty tyrants had been the terror of her child-
hood, she threw her whole heart and soul into the
glories and excitements of the France of Napoleon.
The rough, unmannerly young soldiers, with their
loud laughter, awkward movements, and conversation
besprinkled with oaths, were heroes of romance to
her. The tricolor, held accursed by those who loved
the lilies and the white banner, was to her the flag
that led the French armies to victory, and the First
Consul, so rapidly advancing towards empire, had
128 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1800
changed from the sullen, discontented, poverty-
stricken lad whom she played with and laughed
at in the days when he used to be invited out of
kindness to her parents' house, into a sort of demi-
god whom it was a crime to oppose, whose faults
must be excused, his virtues magnified, and from
whom the slightest notice was honour and dis-
tinction.
A few days after the party just described, M. de
Caulaincourt was dining with Laura and her hus-
band, when he noticed General Lannes, a great friend
of Junot, who used to say that he was the bravest
man in the French army.
" That is the one of all your new friends whose
appearance I like best," he said to Laura. " He
is a very soldierlike fellow, and there is something
taking about him. Will you introduce me ? "
Laura took his arm, went with him to the other
end of the room, where Lannes was talking to Junot,
and introduced him as a distinguished officer, where-
upon Lannes seized his hand, shook it violently,
exclaiming, " Shake hands, old fellow ! I like /es
ancicns ; there is always something to be learnt from
them ! In what regiment did you serve? Were
you biped or quadruped? Ah! the devil!" as the
astonished old gentleman was taken with a violent
fit of coughing.
Junot said something in an undertone to Lannes,
who continued, his sentences still full of oaths —
" Ah ! you are the father of those two brave young
fellows, one of them a colonel of carabineers in spite
of his youth ! You must be a brave man yourself.
You have brought them up for their country instead
i8oo] AT XAI'OLKOXS COCRT 129
of selling them to foreigners like so many others.
You are an honest man, and I must embrace you."
So saying he threw his arms round M. de Caulain-
court and hugged him.
" Well," said Laura as they walked away, " what
do you think of him ? "
" Oh ! a nice fellow — very nice ; but somehow I
expected rather a different sort of man. For instance,
he swears like a renegade— it makes one shudder to
hear him. But all that does not prevent his being a
brave man and a good soldier."
" But how could you expect Lannes to be any-
thing more than a brave man and a good soldier ? "
" My dear child, it was his cursed powdered head
that deceived me. I thought any one who had his
hair dressed in the old way would have the old
manners too."
" What ! " cried Laura ; " do you mean to say you
judged Lannes by his powdered head? It's very
lucky you didn't meet Augereau ; }ou would have
made a much greater mistake with him."
Just then a tall man passed, and bowed in a much
more gentlemanlike manner.
"Who is that?" asked M. de Caulaincourt. "He
is powdered, you see."
"That's Colonel Bessieres. Shall 1 present him to
you, vton petit papa ? "
" No, no," he replied. " I have had enough for
this time."
In vain Laura explained that Bessieres never swore
or used any barrack-room language ; her old friend
would not hear of any more of such introductions
that evening. Shortly afterwards he met Augereau.
10
I30 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1800
and recollecting what Laura had said about him, was
induced by curiosity to make his acquaintance, when
the volley of oaths and foul language that poured
from his lips so astonished and disgusted him that
he almost took a dislike to the powdered hair and
queues by which he had been so misled.
CHAPTER VIII
1800
THE presentation of Laura, on her marriage, to
the First Consul and his wife, had been
arranged to take place after the opera.
There was at this time little or no ceremonial
attending such occasions, for although Buonaparte
was advancing with rapid steps towards supreme
power, he had not as yet anything that could be
called a court, and Josephine had not even the
dames de cotiipagnie, who were shortly afterwards
added to her household and before long developed
into dames du palais.
Laura felt rather nervous as the\' drove up to the
Tuileries, for she knew she would meet none of her
old friends there, the only one possible, M. de Caulain-
court, being obliged to stay at home on account of
his daughter's illness. As they went up the steps
they met Duroc and Rapp.
" How late you are ! " cried Duroc. " \\h\-, it's
nearly eleven o'clock."
" Ah! " added Rapp, "Madame Junot is a
mert'eilleuse,^ and is going to make a dancl\- of our
good Junot ? " And he roared with laughter.
■ This word cannot be IransUuet) into English ; it means a female
liandy.
132 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1800
" Madame Buonaparte told me to come after the
opera," said Junot.
" Oh, well, that's a different thing," said Duroc ;
" if Madame Buonaparte named the time "
Just then the folding doors of Madame Buona-
parte's room opened and Eugene de Beauharnais
ran down the staircase. His mother had sent
him because, hearing a carriage stop, and seeing
nobody announced, she feared they might have
been told that they were too late. They went
upstairs together, and Eugene, seeing that Laura
was nervous, said in a reassuring voice, " Don't
be afraid ; my mother and sister are so kind." His
words at once restored her composure, for with all
her new sympathies, Laura was Madame Permon's
true daughter, and her early friends and associates
were so far different from those she was likely to find
in the sa/o?/ of Josephine and Hortense that the idea
of being afraid of either of them shocked her, and
throwing off the shyness, for which she suddenly felt
a sort of contempt, she entered the great yellow
drawing-room in which the stately magnificence of
the court of the Bourbons was being so strangely
travestied. The saloon, which was of immense size,
was half dark, except just round the fireplace, where
masses of candles were surrounded with gauze to
soften the light.
On one side of the fire sat Josephine, doing some
embroidery, on the other her daughter Hortense, a
slight, graceful girl with blue eyes, fair, curly hair, and
a gentle, rather languid manner. The First Consul
was standing with his back to the fire, and as they
entered he watched Laura with critical looks. Jose-
i8oo] AT NAPOLEON'S COURT 133
phine rose, and coming forward to meet her, took her
hands and kissed her, saying that she had been too
long a friend of Junot not to be also a friend of his
wife, especiaih' the one he had chosen.
EIUKNE L)E HEAIHAKNAIS, VICEROY OK ITALY, SOX OK JOSEPHINE.
"Oh! oh! Josephine!" cried Napoleon, "you
go too fast. How do you know that this little
rascal is worth loving? Well, Mademoiselle Loulou,
134 ^ LEADER OF SOCIETY [1800
you see I don't forget the names of my old friends.
Haven't you a word for me? " And taking her hand,
he drew her nearer to him and looked earnestly at her.
" General," said Laura, smiling, " it is not for me to
speak first."
" Well answered, very well. Ah ! her mother's
spirit. By the way, how is Madame Permon ? "
" 111, General ; she suffers a great deal. For two
years her health has been so bad that it makes us
very uneasy."
" Really ! I am sorry, very sorry indeed. Give her
my kindest regards. She has a deuced hasty temper,
but a kind heart and a generous spirit."
Laura withdrew her hand, which Napoleon had
been holding all this time, and went and sat down
by Josephine. The conversation then became general.
Duroc came in and began to talk to her, and on that
evening began a friendship between them which was
never broken.
Some one spoke of Count Louis de Cobentzel, who
was expected at Paris, and Josephine remarked that
she had been told that he was wonderfully like
Mirabeau.
"Who told you that?" asked Napoleon, turning
round.
" I don't exactly remember, but I think it was
Karras."
" And where did Barras see M. de Cobentzel ?
Mirabeau ! He was ugly, and M. de Cobentzel is ugly,
that's all. E/i / pardieu ! you knew him, Junot.
You were with me at the time of our famous treaty,
and Duroc too. But neither of you ever saw
Mirabeau. He was a scoundrel, but a clever
i8oo] AT \'AFOLEO\'S COURT 135
scoundrel ! He alone did more harm to the former
masters of this house than all the States-General
put together. But he was a scoundrel."
And the First Consul took a pinch of snuff, mutter-
ing, " He was a bad man, too tarnished to be a
tribune of the people. Not that there are not some in
my tribunal," he continued, smiling, " whose conduct
is just as bad, and who don't possess his talents. As
to Count Louis de Cobentzel " But, probably re-
membering that as ambassador of another State he
was not a subject for present criticism, he broke off
his sentence, took another pinch of snuff, and turning
to Laura, said —
" I hope we shall often see you here, Madame
Junot. I intend to form a numerous family around
me, composed of my generals and their wives, who
will be the friends of my wife and Hortense, as their
husbands are mine. Will that please you ? I warn
you that \'ou will be mistaken if \'ou expect to find
all your fine friends of the faubourg St. Gennain
here. I don't like them ; they are m}- enemies,
and they show it by abusing me. But, as your
mother lives amongst them, tell them I am not afraid
of them. I fear them no more than the rest."
"General," replied Laura, with spirit, "allow me to
decline to do what is in no way a woman's business,
and certainly not that of Junot's wife. And permit me
to carry no message from \-ou to m\- friends but one
of peace and union, which is all they desire."
Madame Permon had made up her mind to give a
ball a week or two after her daughter's marriage in
honour ofthatevent. Accordingly, one evening when
Laura and Junot, who had been married four or five
136 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1800
days, were dining with her, she proposed that they
should make out the list of invitations together.
Society in those days was smaller, simpler, more
intimate and more friendly than now, and Madame
Permon, like all her friends who lived in small houses
or small apartments, when they gave a large evening
party or ball, threw open all or nearly all their rooms,
including bedrooms, which they arranged for people
to sit or walk about in.
To this ball were invited a hundred and ten people,
of whom seventy were men.
" I want it to be the prettiest ball that has been
given for some time," said Madame Permon, as she
settled herself on the sofa after dinner. " The house
is very small, but it shall be like a basket of flowers.
Now, Madame Laurette, take your old place at the
writing-table and let us make the list together, for I
must invite all your husband's old friends."
Junot got up and kissed her hand.
" But certainly," she said, " your friends are mine
now. Only some of them swear too much, Laurette
tells me that when yo-u are angry it is rather the same
thing. You really must correct yourself of that
horrid trick ; it is odious in people who belong to
society."
Junot laughed and held up his finger. Laura
blushed.
" What ! because she told me that you swore ? But
I hope that because she is called Madame Junot she
will not leave off confiding in me and telling me all
her joys and sorrows. She has not been long enough
acquainted with your ear for it to replace mine. And
what ear can listen as well as a mother's. Besides,
i8oo] AT XAPOLEOXS COURT 137
she told me that you loved her very much. But
come, it is late, and we have not had the loto ; let
us make haste and write."
Now the loto which Madame Permon insisted on
playing every evening was the d/'/e noire of Albert,
Laurette, and Junot, who concealed their dislike of it
from their mother and always played unless there
were enough people present to do without them, in
which case, when the detested round table and green
silk bag were brought in, Albert and Junot would go
out to the theatre or elsewhere, the latter saying that
he would come back and fetch Laura later.
" I will write the list," said Junot hastil}-, when he
heard the word " loto." And he sat down at the
writing-table. Having written the names of all the
women, beginning with Madame Buonaparte and
Mademoiselle de Beauharnais, Junot waited to put
down those of the men.
" The First Consul of the French Republic, one and
indivisible," began Madame Permon. " That is how
you say it, isn't it ? "
" The First Consul ! " cried they all.
" Why, yes ! the First Consul. What is there
surprising in that ? Do you think I am Corsican
enough for a vendetta? In the first place, it annoys
me to dislike people, and then "
"And then," said Junot, laughing, "you think
perhaps you were more to blame than he."
" No, no I that's another matter. It was he who was
in the wrong, a thousand times wrong. How can you
say so when you saw the whole thing ? l^ut I have
been thinking that now Laurette will be so much
mixed up with him perhaps the sort of quarrel that
138 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1800
there is between us may have disagreeable conse-
quences for her. But it is not enough to invite him ;
do you think he will come ? "
" I am certain he will," replied Junot. " Ask
Laurette how he spoke of you when he heard of
your illness."
" And so you told him I was ill," said Madame
Permon, who had heard the story ten times at least.
" So he thinks I am dying, and will expect to see a
spectre ? " And looking at the great mirror before
her sofa, she smoothed down the dark curls of her
hair. She was still beautiful.
" Well, mamma, tell me what time will suit you
best and I will come and fetch you," said Junot.
" Fetch me ? To go where ? "
" Why, to the Tuileries, of course, to invite the First
Consul and Madame Buonaparte ! "
" My dear Junot," said Madame Permon, looking
at him seriously, "you must be quite, entirely
mad."
" I see nothing that is not quite reasonable and
sensible in what I say, mamma," answered Junot.
" And I say that you are mad. Do you suppose I
shall go myself and ask General Buonaparte to come
to my house again after having told him never to
do so ? "
" But you are going to send him an invitation ? "
Madame Permon tried to explain that that was a
different thing ; but Junot, in despair, inquired how
she meant to invite him.
"Why, how should I invite him? Just like any one
else, only that I will write the invitation with my own
hand, lie knows my handwriting well enough.
i8oo] AT XAPOLEOX'S COURT 139
And I have not taken so much trouble for any one
for three years. Ask Loulou."
Junot walked up and down the room very much
disturbed.
" It will never do," he persisted. " It would be
better not to invite him at all. He will think you
mean an impoliteness."
" Then he will be mistaken. How can it be an
impoliteness? He will think nothing of the sort, and
you will see that after receiving the invitation he w ill
come and call like any other well-bred man, or at any
rate will leave his card."
" What ! Do you think he has visiting cards ? "
"And why not ? My dear child, because Buona-
parte gains victories, is there any reason why he should
not pay visits ? "
Junot looked at her with an air of consternation,
and Albert and Laura gave way to the fits of laughter
they could no longer suppress. Although at present
no pretensions of royalty had been put forth by
Napoleon, still for more than a year he had held
supreme power in France.
Albert made a sign to the others not to oppose his
mother, and they arranged to go together to take the
invitations to the Tuileries.e.xcusing Madame Permon
on account of her health, not letting her know any-
thing about it, and not presenting the notes she had
written.
This they accordingly did next day. Josephine
accepted for herself and Hortense, but said that it
would be of no use to ask Napoleon, as he scarcely
ever went out. Josephine, who knew of the old
friendship of the First Consul for the Permons and
140 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1800
his wish to marry Madame Permon, had an aversion
to any renewal of intimacy, and had been supposed to
disapprove of Laura's marriage to Junot. She was
well aware that they were great friends of her hus-
band's family, whom she could not bear, which
perhaps was not surprising.
When Laura and iier husband and brother, how-
ever, went up to Napoleon's room, he accepted the
invitation without any difficulty.
"Of course I will come to the ball," he said, taking
both Laura's hands. " Why do you look as if you
thought I should refuse? I will come with pleasure.
And yet I shall be in the midst of my enemies, for
your mother's sa/on is filled with them."
As the day of the ball drew near, Laura felt a
certain uneasiness in the first place as to how her
mother would receive the First Consul, and also
because Madame Permon insisted on her dancing the
inenuct dc la cour. In spite of Albert's age and
Laura's marriage, they never opposed their mother's
will, so Laura had to resign herself and dance the
minuet she detested because Madame Permon de-
clared it had always been the custom.
As to the rest, the ball was most successful. The
staircase and rooms were beautifully decorated with
plants and flowers, and about nine o'clock Josephine
arrived with her son and daughter, saying that the
First Consul had been unavoidably detained, but
would not fail to come, only he begged they would
not wait for him to begin dancing. Laura and Junot
therefore opened the ball with Eugene and Hortense
de licauharnais, and just before eleven the trampling
of the horses of the escort of the l^'irst Consul was
i8oo] AT XAPOLEOX'S COURT 141
heard under the windows, and presently Napoleon
entered.
Madame Permon, who was dressed in white crepe
with jonquils and diamonds, came forward to meet him
with a low curtsey, but he held out his hand, sayinj^
with a smile —
" Well, Madame Permon, is that the way you
receive an old friend?" And the\' entered the
ballroom together.
It was very crowded and hot, in spite of which
Napoleon kept on his well-known grey overcoat all
the time. Looking round the room, he noticed that
some of the ladies did not rise when he came in, a
thing which always annoyed him. He went on, with
Madame Permon still upon his arm, to her bedroom,
where Talleyrand and several others were sitting,
ordered the dancing, which had stopped on his
arrival, to go on again, and turning to Madame
Permon with a look of admiration, asked if she
would not dance with him, but she declined, saying
that she had not danced for thirty \-ears.
All the Buonaparte family except Joseph were
present. Madame Leclerc had seated herself as far
as she could from her sister-in-law, of whose exquisite
toilette she was furiously jealous.
" Really," she exclaimed, looking at the poppies
and golden corn Josephine wore on her dress and in
her hair, " I cannot understand how a woman of forty
can wear wreaths of flowers ! "
And on Laura observing that Madame Permon,
who was older, was also wearing flowers, she replied
only —
" Oh ! that's ver\- different,"
142 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1800
Laura, dressed in India muslin embroidered with
silver, was occupying herself with everybody and
looking after everything that concerned the success
of the evening. Thinking that her mother, although
perfectly polite, was not sufficiently cordial to the
First Consul, who was evidently inclined to renew
their old friendship, at any rate in some degree, she
went to look for her and persuaded her to come out
of her boudoir, where she was sitting, into her bed-
room, where Napoleon was still talking to Talleyrand.
Directly he saw her he came up to her, and in a
friendly, almost affectionate, manner, reproached her
with her forgetful ness of an old friend, refusing to
accept her excuses and explanations, and at last
asking her if they were indeed no longer friends.
" Dear Napoleon," she replied in Italian, " I can
never forget that you are the son of my friend and
the brother of my good Joseph, Lucien and Paulette."
" So," interrupted he, " if I am still anything at all
to you, it is only thanks to my mother and brothers !
Well, one might as well expect firmness from the shift-
ing sand of the desert as friendship from a woman."
Laura felt very uncomfortable during this dis-
cussion. Her mother was leaning back against
the cushion on the sofa tapping with her foot, as she
always did when she was getting angry ; whilst
Napoleon walked up and down with disturbed looks,
and when at that moment Albert came in and offered
him an ice, he replied —
" I assure you, my dear fellow, that neither Madame
Permon nor I require it. I really think we are frozen
as it is. I knew that absence brought forgetfulness,
but not to such an extent as this."
I
i8oo] AT XAPOI.F.O\''S COl'RT 143
" Indeed ! " retorted Madame Permon. " It is excus-
able to fort^et after years have passed, but you found
it too difficult to remember for a few days a thing
upon which a person's whole prospects depended."
Albert and Laura felt in despair at the old griev-
ance of the stupid Stephanopoli, who was not worth
the trouble he had caused, being so inopportunely
raked up just when the friendship of Napoleon was
of such infinite importance to them all ; and the First
Consul gave vent to an irritated exclamation, but
apparently' changing his mind, he sat down by
Madame Permon, took her hand, and began to laugh
at her for not having left off her old trick of biting
her nails.
" Come, come," she said presently, " let ever)'thing
stay as it was. It is only you. Napoleon, who must
not do that. You have so many steps to mount to
the top of your ladder of glory that to desire repose
for you would be wishing evil for us."
" Do you really think what you say ? "
"You know how sincere I am," she replied. "I
don't always say all I think, but I never say what
I don't think. Have you forgotten my candour? "
Napoleon took her hand, pressed it affectionatelx',
and as two o'clock struck asked for his carriage,
saying he could not possibly stay to supper, but
would come again to see her. Before he left he told
them that enormous bills had been sent to Bourrienne
for things ordered by Jerome Buonaparte, who, though
only fifteen, had bought amongst other things a
magnificent dressing-case fitted up with gold, ivory,
and mother-of-pearl, filled with razors, combs for mous-
taches, &c., and costing eight or ten thousand francs.
CHAPTER IX
1 800
THE consular Court, in which Laura occupied so
distinguished a position, was composed in
great part of the generals of Napoleon, chiefly young
men and their wives, most of whom were scarcely
past their childhood. Some of them were of good
blood, for the newly risen officers and functionaries
were eager to marry the daughters of the old French
families, whose ruined parents were sometimes like
Madame Permon, willing enough to give their con-
sent. For the most part, however, the faubourg St.
GevDiain held aloof, to the intense annoyance and
irritation of Napoleon. Some of the younger genera-
tion served in the army or the State, as, for instance,
the two sons of M. de Caulaincourt, but on the whole
the two societies were entirely separate, and regarded
each other with something like hatred.
But in all divisions and classes of society the stern
lessons of the Revolution, whose perils and sorrows
were still so fresh in everyone's mind, had changed
the tone into one of colder, stricter morality than had
formerly prevailed. The early court of Napoleon was
much more correct in morals than in manners, and he
144
i8oo] A LEADER OF SOCIETY 145
himself was, for some reason or other, extremely
anxious that it should be so, and remarkably par-
ticular about the conduct and reputation of, at any
rate, the women of his court, although, being devoid of
either religion or inoralit\', he did not trouble himself
to carry his restrictions and regulations into his own
way of life. He was extremely jealous of Josephine,
to whom, however, he never dreamed of being faithful,
and his brothers and sisters were always ready to
make mischief between them.
One conspicuous object of his suspicions and the
malignity of Madame Leclerc, was a certain M.
Charles," who belonged to a family of the small do/^r-
£-eoisie,a.nd was aide-de-camp to General Leclerc. When
Napoleon and Josephine were at Milan, where they
held a sort of court in the Palazzo Serbelloni, M.
Charles was presented to the latter, who took a fancy
to him and singled him out in a way that was sure
to attract attention and give rise to slanderous gossip.
For it does not appear that there was anything but
an intimate and sentimental friendship between
them.
M. Charles was about eight- and -twenty, good-
looking, but very small, in no way remarkable.
Napoleon was frequently absent, and while he was at
one or another of the Italian towns, M. Charles was
constantly at the Palazzo Serbelloni.
Madame Leclerc occupied herself in spying upon her
sister-in-law and repeating to Napoleon all the gossip
she could collect about her. Shortly afterwards he
found a pretext for arresting M. Charles, who was
compelled to leave the army, much to the distress of
' His surname was Charles.
II
146 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1800
Josephine, who got him a place in Paris, where they
resumed their friendship when Napoleon was gone to
Egypt and she returned from Italy.
Josephine was then established at La Malmaison,
where she was to be seen wandering about the
gardens by moonlight, dressed m white with a long
veil, leaning on the arm of M. Charles, who was con-
stantly at La Malmaison and seemed very much
at home there.
Every one gossiped about it, and M. Gohier
warned Josephine and tried to persuade her to break
off the intimacy.
Josephine, however, refused, declaring with tears
that it was nothing but a harmless friendship.
" Then get a divorce," said Gohier. " You say that
there is nothing but friendship between you and
M, Charles ; but if your friendship is so exclusive
that it makes you break all the rules of society, I
advise you to get a divorce just the same as if you
were in love. If your friendship is all that signifies
to you, it will make up for everything else. Believe
me, all this will bring you trouble."
When Napoleon came back he was furious at all he
heard, and threatened to divorce Josephine. The
quarrel was made up, owing partly to the intercession
of her children, Eugene and Hortense, but on con-
dition that M. Charles should be dismissed, and that
she would promise never to see him again. '
The year before Laura's wedding, Caroline
Buonaparte had been married to Joachim Murat,
' Bourrienne accuses Junot of having made mischief in this matter,
but Madame d'Abrantes, in her " Memoires," disproves his assertion.
Junot was a friend of M. Charles.
i8oo] AT NAPOLEON'S COURT 147
another of Napoleon's officers, the son of an inn-
keeper, who had by a certain impetuous courage and
briUiancy raised himself to a high position in the
republican army. Murat was rash, vain, and weak,
and Napoleon disapproved of his marriage with
Caroline, whom he wanted to marry to Moreau. He
had also a private grudge against him, which was
this :—
Murat was a friend of Madame Tallien and of
Madame Buonaparte (Josephine), and was very fond
of boasting of the fact. He gave a dejeuner to a
number of his brother officers, at which, after drink-
ing ^ great quantity of champagne, he proposed to
make punch in a special way which he declared had
been taught him by the prettiest and most charming
woman in Paris. His comrades, whom the punch had
deprived of whatever good sense the champagne had
spared, at once began to question him about the cir-
cumstances and the name of the person in question,
and succeeded in extracting from him the history of
a day he had spent in the Champs Elysces and of
a dcjeune)%d\\\\\Q:x and supper, rendered much more
compromising by the remarks and stories exaggerated
by his own vanity and folly, and the license of his
companions, one of whom, catching up a gilt lemon-
squeezer, which Murat was using for the punch, saw a
monogram upon it which did not appear to be that of
his host, but " J. B.," which he began to spell out as
Buonaparte. Frightened at this, Murat managed to
put a stop to the discussion, but the matter was
immediately reported to Napoleon, who was furious,
and whose first intention was to demand an explana-
tion from Murat. On second thoughts, however, he
148 A LEADER OE SOCIErV [1800
considered this would be beneath his dignit)', but he
never Hked Murat afterwards.
The lemon-squeezer disappeared, and Murat de-
clared that it had been stolen, also that the monogram
was "J. M." and that the young man who had sup-
posed it to be anything else was not in a condition
to see clearly at the time.
Murat was tall and picturesque-looking, but with
rather the appearance of having negro blood in his
veins ; he had also a deplorable love of finery. He
fell violently in love with Caroline Buonaparte, who
had just left school, and as she returned his passion,
Napoleon was induced to give his consent to the
marriage.
Caroline had a lovely complexion, and pretty teeth,
hands, and feet, but her features and figure were
bad, and her utter want of distinction and good
breeding were made more conspicuous by the mag-
nificence she afterwards assumed. The contrast
between the simplicity, refinement, and grace in dress,
manners, and appearance which characterised the
faubourg St. Germain, and the vulgarity, ostenta-
tion, and unmannerliness of the new society and
court especially struck all foreigners who now and
again visited Paris. Laura, however, enjoyed herself
thoroughly in her new life. She went to the parties
of her mother's old friends in the faubourg St.
Germain as well as to those of the new court, and
she delighted in the grand parades and military
spectacles.
These she generally saw from Duroc's windows,
which were close to those of Josephine, where the
corps diplomatic] uc or any other foreigners of dis-
i8oo]
AT XAPOLEOX'S COURT
149
tinction always went for the same purpose. The first
time she went to see the parade, Junot, who had to
ride with all his aides-de-camjj, could not go with
JOACHIM MUKAT, KlNt! OK XAI'I ES.
(Gerard.)
her. Madame Permon was ill, and Albert could not
be away, so she went with Junot's parents and brother.
They got out of the carriage at the gate, and crossed
ISO . A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1800
the garden to get to Duroc's rooms. But the crowd
was so great that they could hardly pass, and old
M. Junot, who was as usual in a bad humour,
kept grumbling about a yellow cachemire shawl
Laura had on, declaring that it was extravagant folly
to wear anything so costly in such a crowd, and that
it would be certain to be stolen.
" I am not so careless," he said ; " I take care to
keep my hand upon my watch ; here it is in my waist-
coat pocket. I have no fear of pickpockets. As to
your shawl, you will certainly have it stolen."
Just then Laura felt some one pull at her shawl.
She gave a cry, and M. Junot turned to see who
it was ; but every face looked quite unconscious, and
Laura drew her shawl closer round her.
" Didn't I tell you so ? " exclaimed he, and he went
on grumbling till they arrived at Duroc's, where they
took possession of the window reserved for them.
Presently, wishing to look at his watch, he felt in his
waistcoat pocket. It was gone, the nearest pick-
pocket having been guided by his own words to it.
" Well," said his wife, without turning her head
from the window to reply to the clamour he made,
"they stole your watch while you were tormenting
your daughter-in-law about her shawl, and it served
you right."
It was Laura's custom to dine at four o'clock ; at
any rate, dinner was ordered for that hour every day,
but she very often dined and spent the evening with
her mother, especially when Junot was at any official
dinner, for she never let a day i)ass without seeing
her.
Lucien Buonaparte used to come in the evening
i8ooJ AT NAPOLEON'S COURT 151
sometimes to pour into Madame Permon's ears his
grievances and differences with Napoleon, to whose
rapidly-growing power Lucien's fanatical republi-
canism was opposed, so that there were constant
disputes between them, ending in a serious quarrel
in which their mother, the Signora La:titia, as
Napoleon called her, took Lucien's side.
Lucien had lost his wife, and now left Paris, taking
with him his two little girls, indignantly rejecting
Madame Permon's suggestion to leave them with
Joseph's wife, «/<? Mademoiselle Clary, who was very
good-hearted, but was described in a letter written at
that time by Colonel Nightingale to Lord Cornwall is
as "a very short, very thin, very ugly, and very
vulgar little woman, without anything to say for
herself."
" At the opera, where used to be seen brilliant
groups of all the young people of fashion, and all the
fashionable ' filles ' or demi-moyidc who rivalled or
surpassed them in appearance, was now the strangest
collection of odd blackguard-looking people that
could be conceived." ^
One evening, at the Comedie Francaise, Junot
pointed out to Laura a woman of two or three and
twenty, but looking much younger, who returned his
bow with an air of old acquaintanceship, saying that
she was Pauline, " our sovereign in the East." Her
history was as follows : She was the natural daughter
of a gentleman at Carcassonne by a servant, and
supported herself by needlework. A certain ]\L
and Madame de Sales took her up, and as she had
received some education and was well conducted and
■ Journal of Miss Hcrry, vol. ii. p. 139.
152 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1800
attractive, they showed her great kindness, and had
her to sing and recite at their parties, where a rich
man named Foures, whose father had made a fortune
in trade, fell in love and proposed to marry her.
Pauline accepted him from motives of interest and
ambition, and when soon afterwards there was a call
for more troops to go to Egypt, M. Foures, who
was very fond of her, wanted her to go with him.
She agreed, and arrived in Egypt disguised in man's
clothes, delighted with the adventure, and eager for
any amusement that might come in her way.
One day there was a sort of fair or /c'^e near Cairo,
to which she went with a number of officers and
young people, riding donkeys. Suddenly a troop of
cavalry rode up, at the head of which was the First
Consul surrounded by his staff. He* saw and admired
Pauline, but apparently took no notice of her and
rode on.
The next day Madame Foures received an invita-
tion to dine with General Dupuy, who had a wife, or
some one supposed to be his wife, who received his
guests.
M. Foures, who was lieutenant in the 22nd
Chasseurs, thought it strange that he was not in-
cluded in the invitation, but allowed her to accept it.
The party was a small one, and nothing unusual
passed until just as the coffee was brought in, Buona-
parte was announced. He stayed a very short time,
during the whole of which he looked at no one but
Madame P'ourcs. However, he left without speaking
to her, and a few days later Bcrthier sent for her
husband, and told him that he had been chosen by
the Commander-in-Chief to carry some despatches to
i8oo] AT NAPOLEON S COURT 153
Europe, and must set out immediately, but that it
would be impossible to take his wife as the ship was
small and inconvenient, and besides there was
danger from the English, who were on the watch
for every French vessel that sailed. All this was
explained by Berthier with much pretended sympath)-,
and the deluded Fourcs set off upon his voyage,
which was soon interfered with by an English ca[)tain,
who captured M. Fourcs and his despatches.
Proceeding to investigate the latter, the English
captain found nothing of any importance in them,
and had heard quite enough of the affair to make
him understand why M, Fourcs was sent to
Europe. He therefore consented to take him back
to Cairo, where, arriving unexpectedly, he found his
lodgings empty and his wife established in a house
of her own close to that of the Commander-in-Chief
Fourcs, who was deeply attached to his wife, was
beside himself with grief and anger, but it was of no
use — she refused to return to him, and he was obliged
to consent to a divorce. Pauline was passionately in
love with Napoleon, and lived with him as his
mistress as long as he remained in Egypt. When the
time came for him to return to France he announced
to her that they must part. There was, he said, a
possibility of his being captured by the English, and
it would not do for her to be found with him.
Therefore she had to stay behind, much alarmed
about her husband, against whom she had now no
protector, for Kleber, from whom she had to get a
passport, would not give it until another officer inter-
fered and got it for her.
When she arrived in France, Pauline was no longer
154 --^ LEADER OF SOCIETY [1800
of much importance to Napoleon, who had just be-
come reconciled to Josephine after his quarrel about
M. Charles, and was very anxious she should not
find out at so inopportune a moment the difference
between his precepts and his practice. Therefore he
would not allow Pauline to have a house in Paris, so
she bought one near Saint-Gervais, where Junot used
to go to see her. M. Foures meanwhile returned with
the army from Egypt, and wanted to make his wife
come back to him. She appealed to the divorce
pronounced in Egypt, but it appeared that, as it had
not been confirmed within the proper time in France,
it was not legal.
Napoleon, to put an end to the matter, ordered
Pauline to marry again. There was a M. Ram-
chouppe who was in love with her, and to him
the First Consul promised a consulate in some
distant place if she married him, which she consented
to do.
Junot advised her to see some lawyer and consult
him about the divorce, so she applied to her old friend
M. de Sales, who belonged to that profession, and
who told her that the divorce pronounced in Egypt
was not legal, and as she evidently could not live
happily with her husband, they had better agree in
demanding a fresh one.
But of this Napoleon would not hear. He was
just then going to be crowned, and did not want his
name to be dragged into a case like this. He was
very angry with M. de Sales for opposing his
wishes, and declared that he was not going to have
the Parisians gossiping at his expense, but that the
marriage, whether legal or not, should take place
i8oo] AT NAPOLEON'S COURT 155
without any further divorce. So it did ; but the
strangest part of the story is that the woman whom
Napoleon had treated in this manner many years
afterwards, when he was imprisoned at St. Helena,
realised jjart of her fortune, and was preparing to
make some attempt, which of course would have
failed, to deliver him, when his death put an end to
her hopes.
One advantage that Laura thoroughly appreciated
in her husband's being Commandant of Paris was
that it gave them a right to a box at each of the
theatres, to which Madame Permon, who had gone
to a new doctor and was for the time much better,
often accompanied them.
One evening they were at the opera — Madame
Permon, Laura. Junot and her brother. The house
was very full, the toilettes were brilliant, and Junot,
who had just been dining with Berthier, then Minister
of War, was in high spirits because of some very
flattering remarks made about him by the First
Consul and repeated by Berthier.
Suddenly there was a tremendous explosion with a
noise like the firing of a cannon. Junot w^ent out
into the corridor, but saw nobody. He came for his
hat, saying that he would go and find out what it was,
and at that moment the First Consul entered his
box with Josephine, Hortense, and Madame Murat,
accompanied by several officers. A few minutes
afterwards Duroc came to Junot's box and told them
that Napoleon had narrowly escaped being assassi-
nated. Directly the news became known there was
an immense sensation in the theatre, women shedding
tears and everyone cheering the First Consul. Junot
156 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1800
went to take his orders, and then left the theatre,
telHng the others not to wait for him.
In the next box to theirs was M. Diestrich, aidc-
dc-ca))ip to General Vandamme, with his mother and
sister. He told them that tlie intention of the
assassins had been to place the cart in which was the
explosive machine against the entrance to the opera-
house. Fortunately the official obeyed the orders he
had received never to allow any vehicle to stand there
on the night of a first representation, otherwise the
theatre would have been blown up. He added that
he had come back for his mother and sister, as none
of the assassins were yet arrested, and there was no
saying whether another attempt might not be made
when the First Consul came out.
Madame Permon therefore hurried Laura off, and
Junot, looking in as they were putting on their cloaks,
told her to get away at once, drop her mother at her
house, and go on to Madame Buonaparte's, where he
would meet her.
She found they had just returned from the opera,
Josephine was crying and Napoleon engaged in con-
versation with several officers and officials. Junot,
Fouche, and others thought that these attempts were
organised in some foreign country ; Napoleon was of
opinion that they were the work of fanatical Repub-
licans, amongst whom, he said, were a number of the
septembriseii rs.
"They are a lot of wretches," he added, "who have
caluminated Liberty by the crimes they have com-
mitted in her name."
Nine people were killed by the explosion and at
least twenty more died afterwards of the injuries they
i8oo] AT XA1>0LE0>J'S COURT 157
had received. Junot had had a narrow escape. He
had been to the Tuileries on hi.s way to the opera, but
had just missed the First Consul. If he had found
him, his own carriage would have been just behind his,
and would certainly have been blown up. The last
man of the escort had his horse killed. A slight
delay in changing her shawl, which Rapp observed
did not suit her dress, saved Josephine ; as it was, the
windows of her carriage were shattered, and the
broken glass fell all over Hortense and cut her neck.
A day or two afterwards Junot, who was occupied
from morning till night in the researches made after
the conspirators, came home so tired and exhausted
that instead of going, as he had promi.sed, to fetch
Laura from her mother's, he sent the carriage with a
message and went to bed, though it was only ten
o'clock. He was sleeping in a little camp-bed near
hers, as she had been suffering from a slight attack of
fever. She went up to wish him good-night, and
bending over him., said —
"What! asleep already?" when Junot, who was
dreaming that the assassins were in the room, started
up in his sleep and gave her a violent kick, which
flung her to the other side of the room. At the
cry she gave her maid rushed in with a light,
and Junot awoke almost out of his senses with
horror and fright, for Laura was very much hurt and
spat blood, besides which she was supposed to be
enceinte. When the doctor arrived and examined
into the state of the case he declared that if Junot
had been a very little further off, so as to give more
force to the blow, he would have killed her.
Although accustomed from her earliest childhood
158 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1800
to be constantly in society, Laura found the enormous
number of people she was now obliged to see and
receive both perplexing and fatiguing. They were
always giving dinners of five-and-twenty or thirty
people, followed by soirees of more than a hundred,
who, instead of being old and intimate friends, such
as formed the circle of Madame Permon, were many
of them strangers to her, and sometimes persons she
regarded with aversion, even horror. One morning
when they were at dejeuner a tall man entered dressed
in blue. Junot called him " general," but did not
introduce him to her, and seemed constrained in his
manner. When they went into the drawing-room,
to her astonishment he pushed before her, nearly
knocking her down. Junot offered him coffee, which
he refused, saying —
" No, thank you, General ; I never take a demi-tasse
in the morning. A petit-verre perhaps, if mam'selle
permits."
" It is my wife," remarked Junot coldly.
" Ah ! it is the eitoyejine Junot," said the fellow,
staring at her. " The devil ! you haven't done
badly, ]>io?i collegnc ! "
He then engaged in conversation with one of
Junot's aides-de-eanip, and Laura listened with
increasing disgust to the ungrammatical, brutal
language and shameless allusions to the crimes
which had disgraced the Republicans in Brittany
and La Vendee, in which he had evidently borne
a leading part. It was Santerre.^
' Santerre, brewer in the faubourg St. Antoine, commanded the
National Guard, August, 1792, when the Royal Family were in the
Temple. Infamous for his cruelties in the war of La V'endee.
i8oo] AT KAPOLEOy^ COURT 159
" Ma /oi ! " exclaimed Junot when he was gone,
" I did not choose to introduce such a fellow to you.
I don't like him to come to my house, and he very
seldom does. ... It is impossible for me, republican
though I am, to give my hand to Santerre when I
meet him in the Tuileries gardens, the revolutionary
general, which means general of that army in which
the guillotine was always ready, like a cannon with a
lighted fuse. I cannot bear them ; their conduct is
all stained with blood : they are repugnant to me. 1
am republican in principles and taste, but I have a
horror of the blood and massacres and confiscations
and all that awful reign of terror under which France
groaned for years. Santerre is a wretch, he is under
a sort of police surveillance, and I daresay he says I
am proud and disdainful because I don't fraternise
with him ; no, I should think not, for I despise him.'
" Why, I thought he was dead four years ago ! "
exclaimed Napoleon, when Laura told him about it.
"Well, what do you think of him? Isn't he hand-
some and amiable? Those are the sort of people
who would like to see the happy days of '93 again !
M. Santerre would be charmed to gain a lieutenant-
general's epaulettes as he gained those of general of
brigade — by sending better men than himself to the
scaffold."
CHAPTER X
1801
THE chateau of La Malmaison, which had been
bought by Josephine, was her favourite and
at this time her most habitual residence. There was
then very Httle state or ceremony in the Hfe there,
which was in some ways a good deal like that of a
house party in a country house.
Every one got up when they chose in the morning,
and breakfast was at eleven in a small salon looking
on the courtyard. No men were ever present unless
they were members of the family of Buonaparte, and
not often even then. After breakfast they talked,
read, or otherwise amused themselves, and Josephine
often gave audiences, though Napoleon disliked her
doing so. However, she did it out of kindness, and
received in this way presents of jewels, which did not
occur to her, as they did to her enemies, in the light
of bribes.
Many of her old friends of the faubourg St.
Germain, and some who had not troubled themselves
about her when she was only the wife of the unfor-
tunate Vicomte de Beauharnais, gathered round her
now that her husband was the ruler of France, and
i8oi] A LEADER 01- SOCIETY i(n
Josephine, who was extremely kind-hearted, was
always read)- to use in their favour whatever power
she possessed, and anxious that it should be sup-
posed to be more rather than less than it really was.
One of these friends, Madame d'Houdetot, was
desirous to push on her brother, M. de Cere, a good-
lookini^, feather-brained young fellow, whom his
sister presented to Joscjjhinc. She invited him con-
stanth' to La Malmaison, and managed to get him
a commission through Savar\-. But M. de Cere was
so careless and foolish that jsrotection was of very
little use to him. He was sent on a mission to
Bordeaux, with orders to be back within a certain
day, instead of which he stayed a fortnight over the
allotted time. The First Consul was very angry, and
even Josephine refused to interfere any further,
saying that he should not have stayed when he was
ordered to return, and as he chose to disobey, there
was nothing more to be done. Instead of being-
made aide-de-camp to Napoleon, therefore, he was
told that the First Consul forbade him to come into
his presence. He left Paris for some months, at the
end of which he returned and persuaded his sister
and Savary to induce Josephine to give him another
chance. To his great joy they told him that she
consented to receive him the next day, and that he
was to bring a petition clearly explaining what he
wanted, which she would give to the First Consul.
Accordingly he wrote his petition, and was just
going downstairs with it in his pocket to start for
La Malmaison at tlie appointed time, when he was
stopped b\- his tailor with a bill. Explaining where
he was going and promising to come back in a few
1^
i62 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1801
days and pay the bill, he put it into his pocket and
drove off.
Josephine received him very graciously, saying that
she had spoken to the First Consul, who was dis-
posed to overlook his offence if he would promise to
amend ; and taking the petition told him to come for
the answer in a few days.
De Cere, in high spirits, went to his sister's house
and to his friends to receive their congratulations, and
finally to the hotel where he was staying. It was
very late, and on retiring to his room he recollected
the tailor's bill and took it out to see how much it
was. " The devil ! " he muttered as he opened it,
" it's a long bill ; there's no end to it. Why, it looks
like a petition ! Ah ! inon Dieu ! "
It was the petition he had written, and he had sent
his tailor's bill to the First Consul !
What was to be done ? He consulted two or three
of his brother officers, who advised him to go the
next morning and explain the matter to Madame
Buonaparte. But just as he entered the hall Josephine,
who was coming out from breakfast, hastened up to
him, and holding out her hand, exclaimed —
" I am so glad ! I gave your petition to the First
Consul ; we read it together ; it was excellent and
made a great impression upon him. He told me he
would speak to Berthier, and in another fortnight it
would be all arranged. I assure you that this success,
for I regard it as settled, made me happy all yesterday."
De Cere was confounded, but of course dared not
explain. It was evident that Josephine cither could
not or would not meddle any further in the matter,
and had nut the tailor's bill into the fire without
i8oi] .17' X.llVI.EOXS CiVRT 163
looking; at it. Tliere was nothini; more t(j be done
but to return to Paris a sadder and wiser man.
The First Consul worked all day and never
LOUIS Bl'ONAPAKTK, KlXCl OK HOLLAND.
(Grti^orius.)
appeared till dinner, which was at six o'clock, and
in fine weather was often out of doors. Every
\Vednesda\- there was a dinner party, and in the
164 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1801
evenings they danced, played games, and acted.
There were often hunting parties ; every one amused
themselves, and the summer passed away pleasantly
enough.
Hortense de Beauharnais had just been married to
Louis Buonaparte against the will of them both, for
they cared nothing for each other, were absolutely
unsuited, and Hortense was in love with Duroc.
Josephine, however, disapproved of him, and Napoleon
then, in spite of the entreaties of his step-daughter,
insisted on her becoming the wife of Louis, who,
although a straightforward, honourable, well-meaning
man, was cold, stiff, dull, and uninteresting, while
Hortense was affectionate, lively, impressionable, and
fond of societ}'. The marriage turned out unhappily,
as might have been expected, and Duroc became the
implacable enemy of Josephine.'
Laura and the other young wives of the chief
officers, though they were happy enough at La
Malmaison, where their husbands came nearly every
day, still did not wish to be always there, but would
have preferred to be able to go sometimes to their
own homes. This they could not do without asking
leave, which was not always granted ; already the
fetters of a Court seemed to hang upon them.
Laura was getting anxious to be with her mother
again and also to see a little chateau and estate
which Junot had spent nearly all the dol given by
the First Consul in buying for her, as she wished to
have a place of her own.
' losciiliinc, ;il;iniicd at llii.' cimiity ol licr hushaiul's raiiiil), w lio
haled her, was mosl anxious IV)r this inarriaLje, liy uliich .^lie expected
lo secure an ally in Louis.
i.Soi] AT WU'OLliOX'S COrUT 165
However, it was a long time before she could
obtain the desired permission, and then only in con-
sequence of circumstances quite unforeseen and
unusual.
The Chateau de la Malmaison was not large, and
her apartment consisted only of bedroom, dressing-
room, and her maid's room adjoining.
One morning she was awakened by a violent
rapping close to her, and beheld the First Consul
standing by her bed. She looked at him with
astonishment and rubbed her eyes, hardK' believing
she was awake.
" Ves, it is I," said he; ''\\h\- that astonished
look ? "
Laura pointed to the window, wide open on account
of the heat, and to her watch. It was not yet five
o'clock ; the sun was hardly risen, and the trees
outside looked like dark masses.
" Really," said Napoleon, " is it so early ? Well, so
much the better ; we will talk." And drawing a
large armchair to the foot of the bed, he sat down
with an enormous packet of letters, which he pro-
ceeded to examine. They were addressed " To the
First Consul, to him alone." ^
Laura suggested that a trustworthy person might
be selected to save him all this business, to which he
replied —
" PerhaiJS later on ; it is impossible now. I have
to see to it all. I can't neglect any petition or anj--
thing else when order has only so lately been restored."
" But this, for instance," said Laura, painting to a
large, ill-directed, badly-sealed letter; "surely this
' All premier consul, a lui-mcme ; a lui seul en personne.
i66 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1801
contains nothing that could not be told you by a
secretary ? "
He opened the letter, which was of three large
pages, badly written. He read it through, and then
said —
" Well, this letter is a proof that I do well to see
for myself Here, read it."
It was from a woman whose son had been killed in
Egypt. The poor mother, whose husband had died
also from the effects of his military service, had
written more than ten letters to the Minister of War,
the First Consul, and his secretary, stating that she
was deprived of all means of subsistence, and could
get no answer. Napoleon got up, found a pen, and
made a note upon the letter.
The next was enclosed in several envelopes, all
perfumed with essence of roses. He read it and
laughed.
" It's a declaration," he said, " not of war, but of
love. A beautiful lady, who says she has loved me
ever since she saw me present the treaty of peace of
Campo-Formio to the Directory. And if I vv^ant to
see her I have only to give orders to the porter at the
Bougival gate to admit a woman dressed in white
who will say ' Napoleon.' And, ma foi !'' he added,
looking at the date, " it is for this evening ! "
"' Mo7i DicH !'' cried Laura, "you won't do any-
thing so imprudent ? "
He looked at her for a moment in silence.
" What does it matter to you whether I go to the
Bougival gate ? What should happen to me ? "
"What does it matter to me ? What could happen
to you ? What strange questions, General ! Don't
i8oi] .IT S'AI'OLEO.y^ COCk'T 167
you see that this woman is a wretch in the pay of
your enemies ? The snare is too evident. Anyhow,
there is danger. And then you ask me what your
imprudence matters to me ! "
Napoleon laughed.
" I was only joking," he said. " Do you think I
am so stupid or so simple as to swallow such a bait ?
Every day I get those sort of letters, with rendezvous
here or at the Tuileries or Luxembourg, but the only
answer I make and they deserve is this " and he
wrote a few lines, enclosing the letter to the minister
of police.
" The devil ! there's six o'clock ! " he exclaimed, as
a clock struck. And collecting his papers, he pinched
her foot through the coverlet, smiled, and left the
room sineine to himself —
"Non, non, z'il est impossible
D'avoir un plus aimable enfant,
Un plus aimable ? Ah I si vraimenl," iN;c.
Laura got up without thinking any more of this
strange visit. In the evening, about nine o'clock.
Napoleon came up to her and whispered, " I am
going to the Bougival gate."
" I don't believe it," replied Laura, also in a
whisper. " You know too well what harm your
death would do to France ; but if you say another
word about it 1 will tell Madame Hortense or Junot."
" You are a little madcap," he replied, pinching her
ear and lifting up his finger. "If you sa\' a word
about what I have let )ou sec I shall not only be
'displeased, but \'ou will give me pain."
i68 A LEADER OE SOCIETY [1801
" The last consideration is enough, General."
He looked at her for a moment.
"The spirit of your mother," he said, "Absolutely
the spirit of your mother."
She made no reply, and after waiting in silence for
a few minutes he walked into the billiard-roorn. The
next morning Laura was awakened by the same
knocking at the door of her maid's room, and again
the First Consul entered with a packet of letters and
newspapers. He apologised for waking her, said she
ought not to sleep with the windows open, or she
would spoil her teeth, which were little pearls like
her mother's, and having paid her this compliment
he sat down and looked over his letters and papers,
discussing the contents with her and departing after
a time in the same way as before.
But Laura now began to feel uneasy about these
visits. She did not believe Napoleon meant any
harm to her, and had all her life been accustomed to
look upon him, not perhaps as a brother — always a
doubtful expression between young people who are
not really related to each other — but as a cousin, a
relationship of the widest comprehension. Still, even
cousins do not come and sit in each other's bedrooms
at five o'clock in the morning, and she knew perfectly
well that if Napoleon were seen coming out of her
room at such an hour nobody would suppose he went
there to read the papers. Already the notice he took
of her was attracting comment, as she saw by the
disagreeable manner of some and the exaggerated
politeness and attentions which others were eager to
show' her. Although she was only sixteen, she had
lived too much in the world not to know what that
i8oi] AT i\AI>OLEO\S COURT i6()
meant, and disliked it extremely, but could not think
what to do. She was afraid to tell Junot, who was
hasty, jealous, and \cry much in lo\c with her, and
she did not like to sa)' an\thinjj^ to Napoleon himself.
So she forbade her maid, who had not been loni;" with
her, to open the door to any one who knocked so
earl)' in the morning.
"But, madame, if it is the First Consul ?"
" I will not be woke up so earl)' b\- the First
Consul any more than an\'bod\' else. Do as I tell
you."
That da)' \a]K)leon was rather more ci\il and
complimentary than usual, and Laura saw that she
was not the only one to observe it. He announced
that the day after to-morrow he was going to give a
dejeuner and hunting party, and that they would meet
at ten o'clock.
On retiring to her room that night Laura repeated
her orders to her maid not to open the door, and then
went to bed in unusually low spirits. She was getting
tired of being at La Malmaison, where, though ever)'
one was very kind to her, she was amongst strangers.
She would much rather have been amongst her own
friends, saw very little of her husband, and fretted
for her mother, who was in bad health and from
whom she had never before been separated. She lay
in her bed thinking how to get awa)-, and cried herself
to sleep. On awaking in the morning she thought
she would go and get the ke)' of the outer door, and
stealing softly through the ante-room where her maid
was asleej), she found that the door was unlocked and
the ke)' outside. She locked it, took the kew went
back to bed, and presentl)' heard the steps of the
lyo A LEADER OE SOCIETY [iHoi
First Consul in the corridor. He knocked much
more softly than before, and she heard her maid tell
him that she had taken the key. Then she heard
him go away, and went to sleep again.
She was awakened by the door of her own room
being pushed open, and the First Consul entered.
" Are you afraid of being murdered ? " he asked
angrily.
Laura hesitated, and said that she had
taken the key of her maid's door because she pre-
ferred that people should come in by her own.
Napoleon looked at her in silence, and then said —
" To-morrow we are going to hunt at Butard ; )'ou
have not forgotten, have you ? We shall start earh',
and I shall come and call you myself, so that you
may be in time. And as you are not here amongst
a horde of Tartars, don't barricade yourself as you did
to-day. Besides, you see your precautions have not
prevented an old friend coming to you. Adieu."
And he went away.
Laura looked at her watch. It was nine o'clock,
just the time when Napoleon would be certain to be
seen by some of the maids who were now about the
passages going to their mistresses' rooms, so it would
be known all over the chateau. She called her maid
and asked how he had got in. The woman replied
that he had entered with a pass-key, and she had not
dared to prevent his going into her mistress's room.
While dressing Laura tried to think of some one
she could consult. She could have spoken to Duroc,
but he was away ; she thought of Hortense, then the
remembrance of Josephine put an end to that idea.
" Mou Dicu ! what shall I do ? " she exclaimed,
i8oi] .17 X.ll'OLEOXS COURT 171
sinking back into a chair and leaning her face in her
hands. At that moment two arms were put round
her and a well-known voice said — ■
" My Laura ! what is the matter? "
With a cry of jo)' Laura threw herself into her
husband's arms, and after the first greeting and
inquiries begged him to take her back to Paris.
" Of course I will, directly Madame Buonaparte goes
back."
" Why not now ? "
" Now ? My dear child, but it is impossible ! "
Laura said no more then, but waited till the evening.
Since the attempt on the life of the First Consul the
prefet of police and Junot were forbidden to be absent
froin Paris a single night. When Junot came to La
Malmaison he alwa)'s left about eleven o'clock. On
this occasion it was four days since his last visit, and
when Bessieres set out on his return and every one
else separated for the night, Laura told Junot that
she wanted him to take a letter to her mother and
that he must come to her room while she wrote it.
When they got there she renewed her entreaties that
he would take her with him, which, of course, at such
an hour and without notice or excuse was impossible.
Junot began to suspect that some one had been
annoying her, and eagerly asked who it was, that he
might avenge her.
Finding that she must remain where she was, Laura
begged her husband to stay with her, to which with
some hesitation he consented, remarking that he
should get a reprimand.
About half-past four in the morning the door
opened and the P'irst Consul came in.
172 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1801
" What ! still asleep. Madame Junot," he cried, " on
a hunting morning. I told you "
And as he spoke he undrew the curtain of the bed.
Junot sat up and looked at him in astonishment.
" Eh ! ?;wn Dien, General ! what are you doing
here at this hour? "
" I came to wake up Madame Junot for \\\.Q^chasse','
replied Napoleon. " But 1 see she has an earlier
alarum. I might reprimand, for you are contraband
here, Monsieur Junot."
" Mojt General" replied Junot, "if ever a fault
were excusable it is mine. If you had seen this little
syren last night, employing all her magic for more
than an hour to seduce me. I am sure you would
forgive me."
Napoleon smiled, but it was a forced smile.
" Well ! I forgive you entirely. It is Madame Junot
who must be punished. To prove that I am not
angry you shall go out hunting with us. Did you
ride here ? "
" No, inon General, I drove."
"Well, Jardin will give you a horse. Adieu,
Madame Junot. Make haste and get up." And he
left the room.
When they were all starting the First Consul got
into a little calccJic and said to Laura —
"Madame Junot, ma\' I have the honour of your
company ? "
Laura got into the carriage in silence, for she did
not like the expression of his face and smile. The
door was shut, and when they had gone a little
distance from the chateau Napoleon, crossing his
arms, turned to her and said —
i8oi] AT XAI'OI.F.OXS CO CRT 173
"You think you are very clever."
There was no answer.
" \'ou think you are very clever, don't you ? "
" I don't think myself cleverer than other people,
but I don't think I am an imbecile ; " she answered,
seeing that she must say something.
" An iiiibecile, no ; but you are a fool."
She was silent.
"Can you explain to me for what reason you made
\our husband stay here ? "
" The explanation is simple and short, General. I
lo\e Junot ; we are married, and I suppose there is
no scandal in a husband being with his wife."
" You knew that I had forbidden it, and that m\-
orders ought to be obej-ed."
" They have nothing to do with me. When Consuls
have to decide on the degrees of intimacy allowed
between married people and the length of their
interviews I shall think about submitting to them.
Until then. General, I can only say that I shall do as
I please."
" You had no other reason but j'our love for your
husband when you made him stay ? "
" Xo, General."
" That's a lie."
" General ! "
" Yes, it is," he went on in a changed voice. " I
guessed your reason. You had a distrust of me
which you ought not to have felt. Ah ! you have
nothing to say ! "
" And if I had another reason than the distrust
you speak of, General ; if I saw that your visits at
.such an hour to the room ()f a woman of m\- age
174 -'^ LEADER OF SOCIETY [1801
would compromise me strange!}- in the eyes of every-
body else in the house, and if I took this means of
stopping them "
Napoleon's face softened.
" If that was it," he said, "why did not you tell
me what troubled you ? Have not I shown you
friendship enough, naughty child, for the last week
to give you confidence in me ? "
" Perhaps I was wrong, General," said Laura ; and
she went on to allude to the affection her family had
always shown him and the loyal devotion of Junot,
to whom he could not wish to give pain.
"It is almost a sermon that you are preaching me,"
said Napoleon. " Who wants to give Junot pain ?
Why didn't you speak to me?"
" How could I, General, when yesterday morning
you employed means that might be called unworthy
to get into my room although the measures I took
ought to have shown you that I considered the early
visits you were good enough to pay me to be com-
promising, which they are. You came in for a
moment with an offended air which certainly did not
invite confidence. Therefore I had no one to appeal
to but myself. I may have been mistaken."
" Were not you acting under )-our mother's
advice?"
" My mother ? How could she direct me ? Poor
mother ! I have not seen her for a month."
" You can write."
" Man General, I have not written to my mother
that I am not safe under your roof It would have
given her too much pain."
" Madame Junot, you have known me long enough
I Hoi] .it NAPOI.EOS'-S CO CRT 175
to understand that \ou will not continue to retain my
friendship b)' speaking in that way. The only thing
wanting to the wa\- you are acting is that }OU should
have told Junot what >ou have been fanc)'ing."
" I shall not answer such a cjuestion," said Laura
angrily. " If you don't think I have either sense or
reason, at least give me credit for good-feeling enough
not to make him unhapp}\"
" Again ! " cried Xapoleon, striking the side of the
carriage with his hand — " Again ! hold \-our tongue ! "
"Xo, I shall not hold my tongue. I shall go on
with what I wish to have the honour of telling \ou.
I beg you to believe that neither my mother, my
husband, nor any of my friends know what has
happened. As I did not suppose you had any bad
intentions, it would ha\e been absurd to complain of
a mark of friendship because it might compromise
me, but I thought it best to stop it at any rate, and
no doubt rny youth and inexperience have caused
me to manage bad!}-, since I have displeased you. I
am sorry, but that is all I can say."
They were approaching the meet ; alreach- the
sound of horns and barking of dogs was heard.
Napoleon's face softened.
" Will you give me your word of honour that your
husband knows nothing of all this nonsense? "
" Good God, General ! how can you think of such
a thing, knowing Junot as you do? Why, if I had
told him what has been going on for the last week
neither he nor I would be here now."
Napoleon said nothing at first, but drummed with
his fingers on the edge of the carriage. Then turning
to her, he said —
i-jG A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1801
" Then you will not believe I meant no harm to
you ? "
" I am so sure of it that the attachment and
admiration I have ahva)s had for you are the same
as ever."
She stretched out her hand to him, but he smiled
and shook his head.
" Then we are to quarrel," she said, " because you
chose to do what was entirely your own fault, and
now because you have given me pain you are going
to let your beard grow and hang your dagger to your
side ! " I
He looked out of the carriage, and then, turning to
her, said —
" Believe that really I feel for you a friendship
which it only depended upon yourself to make still
stronger. But early education remains. You have
been taught to be hostile to me ; you don't like me,
and I am sure "
" I take the liberty of interrupting you, General,
and I beg of you not to talk in that way. You make
me unhappy ; and besides, it is entirely untrue. Tell
me you don't really think so ; it would be too painful
to leave you so."
" You are going ! "
Laura showed him a letter, received that morning
from her mother, urging her immediate return, as she
was ill anfl wanted her.
"And when will you come back?" he asked, with
a sarcastic look that irritated Laura, who replied
hastily —
" Whenever I am wanted for m}' part. General ; but
' The sign of ixndclla in Corsica.
i8oi] .17" X.H'OI.EOS' S COrRT 177
you can dispose of m)- apartment, for I shall not
occupy it any more, I assure you."
" As you please. And after this stupid affair it
would not be very pleasant for either of us to sec
each other. You are quite right. Jardin ! my horse."
And he opened the door, jumped out, and rode a\va\'.
Laura returned to Paris with Junot, and dined that
evening with her mother.
The next time she went to La Malmaison Xapoleon
was all right again in his manner towards her. A
year afterwards, when, after dining at La Malmaison,
a storm came on and Josephine was trying to per-
suade her not to return home that night as she
jjersisted in doing, Napoleon, who was stirring the
logs of the fire, said without turning round —
" Torment her no more, Josephine. I know her ;
she will not stay."
Although Laura no longer lived at La Malmaison,
she often went down there to act in the theatricals,
of which they all, including the First Consul, were
passionately fond.
One day at dinner the conversation turned upon
the delights of private theatricals, in which Cam-
baceres, the Second Consul, a grave, solemn-looking
personage, joined, when Napoleon observed that he
must be judging from hearsay, as he certainly never
acted.
" And why not, citoyen premier consul ? Don't
you think I look pleasant or amusing {plaisant)
enough to act ? "
" Well, citoyen Cambaceres," said Napoleon,
" because, in fact, you don't look amusing at all
{yous navez pas l\xir plaisant du tout).
178 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1801
" Well ! I have often acted, not only at Montpellier,
but at the house of a friend of mine at Beziers, where
theatricals went on half the year, and one of the parts
in which I had great success was that of Renaud d'Ast."
" What ! you sang," cried Madame Buonaparte.
Every one laughed, but Cambaceres went on
gravely —
" And as any part suited me equally, I played just
as well Montauciel in ' The Deserter.' "
There was a burst of laughter all round the table,
but Cambaceres, without attending to it, continued
to relate one theatrical anecdote after another, illus-
trating the intrigues, jealousies, and petty quarrels
that prevail behind the scenes ; while the First
Consul, who was himself the chief manager of the
theatre at La Malmaison and its amateur company,
listened intently with his elbows on the table.
The First Consul told an amusing story of Count
Louis de Cobentzel the Austrian ambassador to
Russia, which happened in 1796, at the court of St.
Petersburg.
The Count de Cobentzel was no longer young, and
had always been extremely ugly, but he was exceed-
ingly fond of private theatricals, and had had a small
theatre built at the Austrian embassy, where plays
were constantly acted and patronised by the Empress
Catherine, who was equally devoted to that diversion,
and often wrote plays herself which were acted there.
One day there was to be a grand representation, in
which the Count de Cobentzel was to act the part of
the Comtesse d'Escarbagnas (an old lady) in the
presence of the Empress.
He dressed early, in order to be ready to go upon
i8oi] AT XAl'OLEOXS COrk'I 179
the stage directly the Empress should arrive, and
waited in his dressing-room meanwhile.
Just then a courier arrived from Vienna with
important despatches which were to be delivered into
the hands of the Ambassador himself, so he sent to
request an audience.
It was seven o'clock, and the Comte de Cobentzel,
dressed as an old lady, with high heels, powdered and
puffed hair, rouge, pam'ers, &c., was standing before
the glass practising fanning himself and arranging the
patches on his face. He sent word that he was engaged
and would see the messenger the next morning.
But the messenger, who was a young man and
zealous, a complete contrast to Josephine's unlucky
M, de Cere had a perfect mania for doing his duty.
He had been ordered to arrive at St. Petersburg on a
certain day before midnight, and having carried out
his instructions, declared that he must see the
Ambassador that night, and made such a noise and
commotion that one of his secretaries went up to him
again and told him.
" Ah ! the devil's in the obstinate fellow ! " cried
Cobentzel.
" Well, let him come in."
Without recollecting the necessity of explaining
matters to the messenger, the .secretar\' introduced
him into the room, saying —
" There is M. I'Ambassadeur," and shut the door.
An old lady advanced towards him, with one hand
putting a patch upon her face and saying as she held
out the other, " Well, Monsieur, let me see the.se
famous despatches."
The messenger looked around him in amazement,
but there was no one else in the room.
i8o .4 LEADER OF SOCIETY [1801
" I want to see the Ambassador," he said.
" Well, here is the Ambassador. I am the Ambas-
sador," cried the figure, snatching at the packet and
pulling with all its might.
The messenger thought it was a maniac, and keep-
ing firm hold of the packet, ran to the door, calling
for help. The Ambassador ran after him, trying to
explain, and then, exclaiming, " Well, you shall see
him, stupid, your Ambassador," he rushed into his
bedroom, tore off the dress, and came back in black
breeches, which made the rest of his costume look
still more ridiculous.
At that moment the secretary returned, saying
that the Empress had arrived. He explained the
truth to the messenger and made him give up the
despatches to the Count, who, when he had read
them, found them to be so important that they
must be attended to at once. They referred to the
progress of Napoleon in Italy, in order to check
which the treaty now being arranged between Eng-
land, Russia, and Austria must be signed and carried
into execution. Cobentzel therefore sent for Lord
Whitworth, the English Ambassador, a tall, hand-
some, stately personage, who received the comm.uni-
cations made by Cobentzel in his extraordinary dress
with perfect composure, pointing out that the Empress
must not be ke[)t waiting. He went to her at once
and explained the cause of the delay, and it is
believed that in her impatience to hear full particulars
of what was indicated to her by the English Ambas-
sador she would not wait any longer, so the Austrian
Ambassador had to appear at the interview in tlic
dress of the old Comtesse d'Escarbaunas.
CHAPTER XI
1 801-1802
THE theatricals at La IMalmaison usually took
place on Wednesdays, and there were generally
forty or fifty people at dinner and about a hundred
and fifty in the evening. The best actors of the
C(jinpan\', or troupe, were Hortcnse and Eugene de
Keauharnais, Bourrienne, Eauriston, Lallemand, and
a young officer called lsabe\'. Lucien Buonaparte
was also good.
The First Consul took the deepest interest in these
performances, and was so critical and sarcastic that
he terrified most of the actors.
General Lallemand, who was one of Junot's aides-
de-camp, used to have lessons from a famous comic
actor called Michau, a great favourite with the public.
"It is always useful to be able to make people
laugh," observed Michau one day ; and he proceeded
to tell his hearers that on one occasion during the
Terror he was stopped in the streets of Paris b}- one
of those troops of ruffians who went about commit-
ting murders in the da\'s of what even to this da\-
man)- French and some other persons of radical
opinions call la belle Revolution.
i82 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1801-1802
By these worthy patriots he was seized, and in
spite of his entreaties and remonstrances they were
proceeding to express their favourite principles of
" Hberty, equaHty, and fraternity " by hanging him to
the pole of a lamp which they had taken down for
that purpose, when a baker with a red, merry face
rushed into the midst of them, caught him up as if
he were a child, and carried him away from them,
exclaiming, " What are you about, you fellows ?
Don't you know \\\& pouricJibiel (polichinelle) of the
Republic,^ then ? " whereupon about two hundred
ruffians made their excuses to him for trying to hang
him, as if they had been apologising for treading on
his foot.
An unlucky adventure befell young Isabey, who
happened, on going into a gallery at La Malmaison,
to see a man wearing the uniform of the cJiasseurs dc
la garde whom he took for Eugene de Beauharnais
(then colonel of that regiment) looking at a book of
engravings lying on a table at the other end. He
approached very softly, and when he had come close
behind him without his being aware of it he sprang
with one bound on to his shoulders. The man raised
himself up and shook him violently off. It was the
First Consul !
" What is the meaning of this joke ? " he asked
in a severe voice.
" I thought it was Eugene " stammered Isabey.
" And if it had been Eugene, was that any reason
why you should break his shoulders?" returned the
l^^irst Consul. And he walked out of the gallery.
The story got about by some indiscretion, and not
' The C'omcdic l""rain;ai.se was then called Thuatrc dc la Kcpubliquc.
i8oi-i8o2] AT XAPOLEON'S COl'RT 1S3
long afterwards, for no ostensible reason, Isabey was
obliged to leave La Malmaison.
The prosperity of the country was growing rapidly.
The numerous balls, dinners, and other files, with
the increasing luxury- of dress and living, gave an
impetus to trade ; every one flocked to the theatre
where Mademoiselle Mars and Talma were in their
glory. There was an exceedingly good Italian opera,
and the Louvre was filled with all the most splendid
statues, bronzes, pictures, and other works of art,
the plunder of Italy, and later on of Spain, Germany,
and the rest of Europe, waiting until a few )-ears
later the victorious armies of the Allies should
restore them to their lawful owners.
By the peace of Luneville between France and
Austria the left bank of the Rhine from Holland
to Switzerland was made the boundary of France,
the possession of Venice was confirmed to Austria,
and that of Parma and her other Italian conquests to
France, to whom also were ceded the Ionian Isles.
The joy and triumph of this successful treat)'
concluded in February, 1801, was, however, followed
in March by the loss of Egypt.
The English general, the gallant Abercrombie, was
killed in the battle of Alexandria, but the French
army capitulated, and a treaty was concluded between
the two nations, which put an end for ever to
Napoleon's plans for making Eg)'pt a stepping-
stone to the ruin of England.
Xews travelled slowl\- in those dax's ; and it was
a beautiful summer's morning when Laura and her
husband, knowing nothing of what had happened,
received a visit from Rapp, who .-^aid he had come to
184 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1801-1802
breakfast with them, as the First Consul had sent
him from La Malmaison to say that he wished to
see Junot and wanted Laura to come too and spend
the day.
Rapp was in bad spirits, and said as they drove
down that the First Consul had certainly received
some bad news, he seemed so gloomy, scarcely
ate anything, but pushed away his chair, threw
down his serviette, and asked for three cups of
coffee in one hour.
Laura laughed, and said that very likely he was
only out of temper.
When they arrived Junot went at once to the
First Consul and remained with him till dinner-time,
either shut up in his study or walking in an avenue
in the garden. Napoleon placed Laura next to him
at dinner and began to talk to her on indifferent
matters, but she saw at once that something was
wrong. It was not, however, until they returned
to Paris that Junot could tell her what Napoleon had
communicated to him before it w^as made public —
the disaster in Egypt.
He well knew all the dreams and aspirations of
which Egypt and the East had been the subject
in the mind of Napoleon, even in the early days
when they had wandered about the boulevards of
Paris together, planning their future ; and understood
what, amidst all the success and splendour of his
present position, he must have felt when he said,
"Junot, we have lost Egypt."
It was the first serious check to his victorious
career, from the nation he always regarded as his
most deadly enemy, and there appeared to be some-
i8oi-i8o2] AT XAPOI.EOXS COl'RT 185
thing almost prophetic in the depression and gloom
with which it seemed to overshadow his spirits.
The invasion of England was always a favourite
project of Napoleon, and Boulogne was the head-
ciuarters of the activity which now prevailed in the
building and arming of numbers of vessels of
different kinds, while camps were pitched on the
coast of the channel at this and other places. One
night as the French flotilla lay at anchor near the
shore it was suddenly attacked by Nelson, whose
intention was to cut it off by getting in between
it and the land. Although, owing to the protection
given to the French flotilla by the forts and batteries
close at hand, this plan was frustrated and the
English fleet sustained heavy losses, Nelson gained
a victory, which still further exasperated Napoleon.
The autumn and early winter passed away ; it was
the 5th of January, and Laura was daily expecting
the birth of her child. The weather was so cold
and the streets so slippery that Madame Permon,
who was now too great an invalid to come to her
daughter, had forbidden her to go out ; therefore their
only communications were the letters they wrote
every day to each other. Junot's mother, who was
very fond of Laura, had come to stay and take care
of her, and on the evening of this day they were giving
a supper-party to General Suchet and some other
friends to celebrate the first da}'s of the New Year.
Every one drank Laura's health in champagne, and
she rose to return the compliment with a glass
of water in her hand ; for it was a singular thing
that while Laura could never bear to touch wine
of any kind, Junot had a sort of aversion, which
i86 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1801-1S02
he could never explain, to seeing women drink
it. So strong was this unreasonable fancy (for he
always drank it himself) that he told Laura that
if he had seen her drink wine he should not have
married her.
" Well, but," said she, laughing, when he told her
this, " what about Madame M , who used, I am
told, to drink a bottle of champagne and half a
bottle of Madeira at dinner and supper? It is
said that you loved her."
" Oh ! what does that matter ? " replied he, laughing
also. " A mistress counts for nothing in a man's
life. What does he care for her faults or virtues,
so long as she is pretty, which is all he wants ? "
As Laura stood at the head of her table with
her glass of water, amongst the laughter and com-
pliments of the sixteen or seventeen people present,
a sudden and terrible pain made her sink back
with a cry into her seat, while the glass dropped
from her hand and she closed her eyes. When
she opened them again she saw Junot, white with
fear, his glass still in his hand, and everybody
else looking at her in consternation. With the
courage of Jeanne d'Albret at the birth of Henri IV.
she tried to resume the talk and laughter that had
been interrupted, but it was useless. There was an
end of the supper-party. Her mother-in-law took
her away into her own room, Junot hurried off to
send for Marchais, a famous doctor of the day, and
all night long she lay between life and death.
The next morning Junot became so frightened
and miserable that he could not endure to stay
in the house any longer. He seized his hat, ran
i8oi-i8o2] AT X.lPiV.KOXS COCRT 1S7
downstairs into the street, and did not stop until
he got to the Tuileries. He rushed upstairs into the
ante-chamber of Napoleon, where several of his
friends were standing, who exclaimed in astonish-
ment, " Good God ! Junot, what is the matter?"
Junot asked onl\' for the First Consul, who received
him with great kindness and sympathy. " My old
friend," he said, pressing his hand, " you have done
well to come to me at this time." He sent a
messenger immediately to inc[uire for Madame Junot,
walking up and down the gallery with Junot and
tr\-ing to comfort him until the news was brought
that a daughter was born and that Laura's danger
was over.
Junot returned home, enchanted with his child and
at the favourable turn things had taken, the only
drawback being that his father, old M. Junot,
had made himself disagreeable as usual, and when he
heard that the child was a girl, having set his mind
on having a grandson, he made such a grumbling
and became so ill-tempered that Laura was very
nearly made ill, the doctor was furious and so was
his wife, who dro\e him away in a torrent of in-
dignation, and told Junot that she had "arranged"
his father, and she did not think he would ever
behave so again.
For some time the First Consul had resolved to re-
establish religion in F'rance, and now, the concordat
upon ecclesiastical affairs having been signed by the
Pope and the Consuls, he resolved that a grand
service should be held to celebrate its promulgation.
Accordingl)- on Easter Sunday a great festival
was organised at Notre Dame (1802).
i88 ■ A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1801-1802
For the first time the household of the First
Consul wore liveries, and besides her four dames de
compagnie, sixty or eighty wives of the chief officers
and functionaries were chosen to accompany
Josephine, amongst whom, of course, was Laura.
At half-past ten an immense procession left the
Tuileries the cathedral of Notre Dame was crowded
with women in splendid toilettes, and men in
uniform, and the gorgeousness of the newly restored
ceremonial, the holy chants and sacred music
mingling with salvos of artillery, tramp of cavalry,
and clash of swords, made a strong impression
upon the spectators who thronged the church and
streets.
The fanatical Republicans and enemies of religion
were furious, and one of them. General Delmas, when
asked by the First Consul how he liked the ceremony,
replied —
" It's a fine mummery enough. To make it better
still you only want the million of men who gave
their blood to destro)- what you have just re-
established."
Napoleon was very angry with this answer, in
which he said there was as little sense as good
taste, what so man}' men had given their lives to
destroy not being religion at all, but the aiicicn
regime, which was a very different thing ; and although
he now created nine archbishops and forty-seven
bishops, of whom Laura's uncle was one,' they only
received small salaries instead of the magnificent
property lost for ever in the Revolution.
A terrible calamity soon afterwards befell Laura
' Bishop of Metz.
i<Soi-i8o2] AT WlPOLEONS COURT iH()
and Albert in the death of the mother they both
adored. Madame Permon's ilhiess had so much in-
creased latter!)', and her sufferings were so great,
that when the end came their grief was minglerl
with feelings of relief that she was at rest.
Junot, who had been e.\treme!\' attached to his
mother-in-law, arranged the funeral with great
sjjlendour. Man)' accused him of ostentation and
extravagance in this matter, but Laura only saw
in the arms of the Comneni, richly embroidered and
thrown over the coffin, the three hundred poor people
dressed in mourning following with tears and prayers
and all the pomp of the ceremonial, the respect and
affection her husband had borne to her mother and
his love for herself.
Albert, at the time of his mother's death, was
at Marseilles, where he held the post of com-
missioner of police. Laura, knowing the grief he
would suffer, was very anxious to go to him, as he
could not leave his duties, but she had not sufficiently
recovered from the effects of her confinement to be
able to undertake the journey.
CHAPTER XII
1801-1802
THE First Consul was much affected by the
death of Madame Permon, and sent Laura
many kind messages by Junot. Josephine came to
see her, accompanied by Lucien, who had ahvays
been Madame Permon's favourite. He had just
returned from Spain, and the sight of him seemed
to renew Laura's grief
Madame Leclerc was no longer in France,
Napoleon having insisted on her accompanying her
husband to St. Domingo, some time before.
She had made a most ridiculous scene when
Laura went to see her after her departure was
decided upon, throwing herself into her arms and
complaining of the cruelty of her brother, who was
sending her into exile amongst savages and serpents;
crying and sobbing, declaring that she should die
before she arrived there, and then, when Laura
consoled her as one might a child or an idiot, by
telling her what pretty clothes she would wear there
and how she would be queen of the island, she rang
for her maid and ordered her to bring all her scarfs
and India muslins to look at and choose from.
190
i8oi-i8o2]
A LEADER OF SOCIETY
l(;l
Then she declared she would ask her brother to
send Laura with her Talthoui^h it was only about a
month before her confinement), that Junot could go
too and be governor there instead of Commandant of
#^'iit^.
W'-^- ^*
PAfLIXE UUOXAPARTE. PRINCESS BORGHESE.
(Belliard.)
Paris, and that they would take Madame Permon (who
was unable to leave her bed from illness). Just as
Laura, disgusted by her selfish folly, had got up to
take leave, thinking that perhaps she would not be
192 .-I LEADER OF SOCIETY [1801-1802
able to help giving vent to her indignation, Junot
was announced, and turning eagerly to him, Pauline
poured forth her new plans, which he received with
shouts of laughter, much to her surprise. Finding
he would not treat the idea seriously, she began to
cry again, saying she had always loved Laurette like
a sister (which, as Laura afterwards remarked, was
not saying much), and ending with —
" Ah ! you would not have made all those
reflections when we were at Marseilles ! You would
not have coolly allowed me to go away to be eaten
up, or whatever may become of me in that savage
country. And I have told Laurette so often of your
attachment to me ! "
To reason with such a person was of course
impossible. Junot and Laura could do nothing but
laugh, and offer her whatever consolations they
thought suitable. The First Consul, when they told
him of it, laughed too, but knew his sister well enough
not to be surprised. A day or two afterwards he
said to Junot, " I am very sorry you want to go to
St. Domingo, for you will not go. I want you here."
When she was in St. Domingo, however, Pauline
behaved very well ; she had plenty of courage, and
there was a good deal of truth in her anticipations
of danger. The rebellion of the negroes under the
ferocious Christophe and Dessalines broke out,
fearful atrocities were committed, and in September,
1802, a furious horde of twelve thousand blacks
poured down to besiege Cap, the chief town, which
was only defended by one thousand soldiers, many
of whom were down with fever. Pauline, her little
son, and a number of ladies who had taken refuge
i8oi-i8o2] AT X.irOLEON'S COURT i()3
with her, were in her liouse near the seashore, in-
(lifferentl)' defended by a company of artiller)- under
tlie command of a friend of her husband's. General
Leclerc, considering the house unsafe, and feeHng
uncertain as to the result of the battle he was waging
against the negroes, sent orders to put his wife and
child on board ship, the French fleet being near at
hand. Nothing would induce her to fly, and when
the terrified ladies about her urged her to escape, and
described the horrible fate of women who fell into
the hands of the negroes, she only said, " You can
go if you like. You are not the sister of Buona-
parte."
The danger increased every moment, and General
Leclerc sent an aide-de-camp with orders to carry her
away by force if she would not go. She was accord-
ingly placed in an armchair and carried b\' four
soldiers, a grenadier walking by her side carrying the
child. The escort was attacked by the blacks, who
were put to flight, but just as they were embarking
the news came that the French were victorious.
" You see," said Pauline as she was carried back to
the hou.se, " I was quite right in not wanting to go."
Napoleon was very much pleased when the stor)'
was told him. Pauline was his favourite sister, and
he was perfectly blind to the intrigues she carried
on, never believing that her diversions went be\'ond
vanity and flirtation.
The fact was, however, that her love affairs were
many and various. At the time of her departure for
St. Domingo the object of her aflections was sup-
posed to be Lafon, an actor at the Theatre Francais,
and it was said that Mademoiselle Duchesnes, the
u
194 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1801-1802
actress, on hearing Pauline's departure announced,
indiscreetly exclaimed before a roomful of people,
" Lafon will be inconsolable ; it will kill him ! "
Her way of going on made her husband's life
miserable, and yet he was a man of kind and gentle
disposition, devotedly in love with her, and she had
married him for love, or what she understood by that
expression. But she was an incarnation of the most
astounding folly, vanity, and selfishness, without the
capability of either love or affection for any one but
herself If she cared for anybody it was for Napo-
leon. As to her husband, she tormented him with
her infidelities, caprices, and humours, and then, when
he died in St. Domingo, she gave way to paroxysms
of grief and cut off all her hair to show her sorrow.
But Napoleon, when told of it, remarked that she
knew well enough that her hair would grow again all
the better in consequence.
To other people Napoleon was neither so blind nor
so lenient. He persisted, in spite of the entreaties of
Josephine, in dismissing one of her maids, a young
girl of whom she was very fond, because two of his
aides-de-camp had fallen in love with her, although
she had given no encouragement to their attentions.
In reply to all remonstrances he only repeated : " Je
ne veux pas de scandale chez-moi ; point de desordre."
Having taken a violent fancy to a young married
woman of his Court, and being careful to conceal from
Josephine the intrigue he was carrying on with her,
he used to wait until every one in the chateau was
asleep, and then go softly to her apartment without
his shoes. His first valct-dc-chajubrc, Constant, was
always anxious lest the affair should be discovered,
i8oi-i8o2] AT NAPOLEOX'S COrRT 195
and on one occasion the day betjan to dawn and still
Napoleon had not returned.
Constant awoke the maid and sent her to knock at
her mistress's door and say what time it was, accord-
ing to the directions given him by Napoleon should
such a case arise. Napoleon appeared in a few
minutes, greatly agitated, saying that he had seen
one of Josephine's maids watching him through a
window that looked into the corridor. As Josephine's
suspicions and jealousy had already been aroused by
this affair, he was very angry and sent Constant to
the maid ordering her to be silent and never to spy
any more after him, unless she wanted to be sent
awa)' immediately ; after which he desired Constant
to take a little house for him in which he and
Madame could meet in safety.
In February, 1S02, j^eace with England was signed,
and the treat}' of Amiens confirmed to France the
possession of Flanders, Brabant, and Belgium, besides
which she had seized all the German territory on the
left bank of the Rhine, Avignon, Savoy, Geneva,
Basel, and Nice. Lombardy, Genoa and Tuscany had
submitted to her, and in America she had gained
the colonies of Louisiana and Guiana.
With her whole heart and soul Laura shared in the
delirium of joy and triumph which seemed to intoxi-
cate the nation during those few brilliant years, and
in the hatred of England, the most formidable
enemy of France, whom she had beaten in India, in
Egypt, and at sea, having since 1793 destroyed or
captured six hundred and fifty French ships and
seventy-five thousand sailors.
After peace was signed foreigners of all nations
196 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1801-1802
flocked to Paris, which soon became so full that the
most indifferent hotels and lodgings commanded
enormous prices.
Russians and English were the most numerous
and distinguished amongst the arrivals, and as Com-
mandant of Paris Junot entertained all those illus-
trious personages whose presence made the capital
more prosperous and brilliant than before.
Laura's second daughter, Constance, was born in
May of this year.
As the enmity of Junot and his wife against
England was merely political and national, it did
not enter much into their social life, nor prevent
their making many intimate friendships with English,
as well as other foreigners.
Amongst these were the Duchess of Gordon and
her youngest daughter, Lady Georgina, Countess
Diwoff, Prince George Galitzin, the Austrian Ambas-
sador, Count Philippe de Cobentzel, the Marquis of
Hertford (then Lord Yarmouth), Princess Demidoff,
Countess Lisbeth von Blumenthal, and Mr. Fox, who,
as the opponent of Pitt and friend of France and the
Revolution, was regarded by that portion of French
society with the same delighted approbation as was
lately bestowed upon the pro-Boers by the enemies of
England.
But on one occasion when he was dining with
Junot the conversation turned upon recent events in
Egypt, and some of those present began to indulge
in reflections on England and abuse of Pitt, in which
a certain Colonel Green, a great friend of Junot and
a fanatical admirer of Napoleon, permitted himself to
join.
i8oi-i8o2] .17' XAPOLEOX'S COURT 197
At once Fox changed countenance, and, as Laura
afterwards observed, it was no longer the Opposition
leader, but the countr\'man and brother of Pitt, who
defended him with all the force and fire of his elo-
cjucnce, casting at the same time an indignant look
upon Colonel Green.
Struck with shame, the latter was instantly silent,
and rising from his seat, came round the table and
shook hands warmly with Fo.x, whose conduct in
this matter won the respect and admiration of those
present.
A characteristic stor\' was told of him at Paris at
that time. A creditor of his had called repeatedly
with a bill of three hundred guineas, which it seemed
impossible to induce him to pay. One morning, after
receiving the usual answer from his valet, that Mr.
Fo.x had no money and could not see him, the
creditor, who had lost patience, pushed past the
servant, opened a door, and found himself in the
presence of his debtor, who was sitting at a table
counting out and making into rouleaux several
hundred pounds.
"It seems to me, sir," began the creditor, "that
there is no impossibility whatever in your paying
your debt to me. I am delighted to see that your
circumstances are so much better than I was given to
understand by your valet?"
" You are mistaken," replied P'ox ; " I have not ten
guineas at my disposal. You must wait till a better
opportunity."
" You are joking, sir," said the man, pointing to the
table.
" That money is not mine," answered Fo.k ; " it must
198 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1801-1802
all go before midday to pay a debt of honour, which
is sacred."
" Well, sir, I doubt whether this creditor of yours
has a prior right to mine. Remember that I lent you
this money without interest more than three years ago."
" Oh, no ! " cried Fox, laughing, " his is not nearly
such an old debt as yours ; in fact, I only incurred it
a few hours ago ; but it is a debt of honour, which,
you know, must always be paid within twenty-four
hours."
Then, seeing that the man did not understand the
meaning of a debt of honour, he proceeded to
explain.
" Last night I lost eight hundred guineas to Sheri-
dan, for which he has no guarantee but my word of
honour. If anything happened to me before he got
his money, what proof would he have ? You, at least,
hold my signature, which my family would not
dispute."
The man's face fell.
" And so," he said, " it is because your name is
upon the bill I hold that you do not pay it? Very
well," he continued, tearing it to pieces, " now my
debt is a debt of honour too, for I have no guarantee
but yours, and I have a prior claim over your creditor
of last night."
Fox turned to the table, from which he took three
hundred guineas, which he gave to the creditor,
saying —
" Thank you for having trusted me. Here is your
money. Sheridan must wait for the rest of his."
The First Consul disliked foreigners, and at this
time was much irritated by the numerous flirtations
i8oi-i8o2] .17- XAI'OLEOS'S COURT u)*)
they carried on with the wives and daughters of his
generals.
The A'/t' of the 14th July, celebrating the idiotic
destruction of a curious and interesting historical
building, being about to take place, he said to his
wife, "Josephine, I am going to desire you to do
something \'ou will like. I want you to be very mag-
nificent. Make all )-our preparations. As for me, I
shall wear my splendid dress of crimson silk embroi-
dered with gold, that the city of Lyon gave me, and
I shall be superb."
Laura laughed, for she recollected having thought
Napoleon looked most absurd in that dress.
" Well, what do you mean by that mocking smile,
Madame Junot? You think I shall not look so well
as all your good-looking English and Russians who
make love to you and turn your young heads ? It's
all prejudice. I assure you that I am just as agree-
able as that puppy the English Colonel. They say
he is the handsomest man in England ; to me he
seems like the king of fops."
Speaking of another man whose part Josephine
was taking, Napoleon replied to her remark that he
had talents.
" What talents? De r esprit ? Brrh ! who has not —
to that extent ? He sings well ! A fine quality for
a soldier, whose profession always makes him hoarse !
Ah ! he is good-looking, that is what touches you
women ! Well, I don't see anything at all extraordi-
nary about him ; he is just like a field-spider with
those everlasting legs. It is not natural " and he
looked at his own legs, while Laura could not control
her merriment.
2O0 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1801-1802
" Well, little pest, what is there to laugh at ? You
are laughing at my legs. You don't find them good
enough to figure in a contre-daiisc, like those of your
elegant friend. But, at any rate, one can sing and
dance without being a puppy. Look here, Madame
Junot, tell me if Talleyrand's nephew is not a nice
fellow ? "
Laura cordially agreed, for he spoke of Louis de
Perigord, the son of her old friend, one of the fau-
bourg St. Geruiain, who served with distinction in the
armies of the Republic.
Since the concordat, several children to whom
the First Consul had promised to be godfather
were waiting to receive public baptism, and amongst
them was Laura's little daughter. Napoleon never
chose to have as comuierc any one but his wife,
his mother, or Madame Louis Buonaparte. On
this occasion he and Josephine were the sponsors
of the child, who was named after the latter.
Another of the children now to be christened at St.
Cloud by the Cardinal Caprara was the son of
General Lannes, who was to be named Napoleon.
None of the mothers were twenty years old.
Laura stood holding in her arms her child, who
was fifteen months old, very pretty, and very much
frightened at the Cardinal, the chapter, the crowd of
people, and the whole scene. Napoleon turned when
the right moment arrived, saying —
" (jive me your daughter, Madame Junot."
But the baby cried, clung round her mother's neck,
and refused to go to him.
" What a little devil ! " exclaimed Napoleon. " Ah!
^v?, will you come to me, Mademoiselle Demon ? "
i8oi-i8o2] .If X.U'OLEOX'S COUNT 201
"/e ne veux pas ! " replied the baby, looking
angrily at the First Consul ; but just then, catching
sight of the Cardinal's biretta, she was so pleased
with it that she left off cr)ing, allowed Napoleon to
take her, and sat contentedly in his arms with her
eyes fixed upon the object of her admiration, onl\'
rubbing her face vigorous!)' every time he kissed her.
But when the Cardinal approached nearer she sud-
denly stretched out her arm, and with a shout of
triumph snatched the biretta from his head, to the
diversion and consternation of all present.
"Oh, pour ce/a, my child!" cried the First Consul
as soon as he could restrain his laughter, " you must
not do that. Give me that plaything ; for it is a toy
like many others," he added, turning to the Cardinal.
It was only by force that the biretta was taken
from the little Josephine, who tried to put it on her
own head, then on that of her godfather, and when it
was returned to its lawful owner, burst into a passion
of tears and cries.
" She is a real demon, your daughter," said
Napoleon, as he gave her back to her mother ; " but
she is very pretty, ver}' pretty indeed ! She is my
goddaughter, my dauglitci-. I hope you will remember
that, Junot," he added, as he shook hands with his
old comrade.
The following day Laura received from Josephine
a splendid pearl necklace, and from Napoleon the
title deeds of an JuHcl, Rue des Champs-EIysees. It
had cost 200,000 francs.
CHAPTER XIII
1 802- 1 804
IN the spring of 1802 the Consulate of Napoleon
had been by the Senatus-Consulte prolonged for
ten years beyond those originally decreed in 1799.
It was the first step to the Consulship for life and the
Empire.
Junot, like all the enthusiastic followers of the
First Consul, was delighted at this, and proposed
to his wife to celebrate the event by a dejeuner in
their new house in the Champs-Elysees, to be given
at once, without waiting to furnish it, and which the
First Consul and Madame Buonaparte were to be
asked to honour with their presence.
Laura accordingly went to the Tuileries to carry
her invitation to Josephine, who received it with her
usual kindness.
" Have you spoken of it to Buonaparte ? " she
inquired ; and on hearing that Junot had gone to the
First Consul she added, " We must wait for his
answer, for you know I cannot accept any fete or
dinner without his express permission," for Napoleon,
knowing that Josephine, in the carelessness and kind-
ness of her heart, would accept invitations in rather
1802-1804] .1 LEADER OF SOCIETY 203
an indiscriminate manner, had forbidden any engage-
ments to be made without his leave. Napoleon,
however, promised to be at this dcjcnncr, but made
the absurd stipulation that there should be present
twenty-five women and no men at all except himself,
Junot, and Duroc.
The party was composed almost entirely of the
young wives of his generals, most of whom were
good-looking. Josephine was there, her daughter,
and the two sisters of Napoleon, Elisa and Caroline,
who were then in France. Besides the men allowed
by the First Consul, they persuaded him to permit
General Suchet and his brother to be amongst the
guests.
The party was amusing enough, and after the
dejeuner Madame Buonaparte went all over the
house, insisting upon going into every room. She
then proposed that they should go to the Bois de
Boulogne, where accordingly they proceeded in a
long procession of carriages, so that, as Laura
remarked, if they had only had more men with
them they would have looked like a bourgeois
lendeinain de nocc. She drove with Madame
Buonaparte, who talked long and sympathetically
with her, finishing by saying that the First Consul
had observed that it was not sufficient to give them a
house without making it habitable, and had desired
her to tell Laura that the sum of 100,000 francs was
placed at the disposition of Junot and herself to
furnish it in a suitable manner.
The next fete given by Laura in her new house
was a brilliant ball, at which Napoleon, with Josephine
and other members of his family, were present. He
204 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1802-1804
desired to be shown all the house from garrets to
cellars, and remained at the ball until one o'clock,
which for him was an unusually late hour.
Josephine wore a dress embroidered with silver,
vine leaves and grapes trailing over it and in her
hair ; necklace, earrings, and bracelets of pearls.
Hortense, dressed in pink and silver and crowned
with roses, was the life and soul of the ball, and
seemed amidst the admiration and popularity with
which she was surrounded to forget the unhappiness
of the loveless marriage to which she had been con-
demned by the interest of her mother and the
tyranny of her stepfather.
Laura entered with eager delight into this life of
splendour and excitement. At an age at which we
are accustomed to see young girls just set free from
the schoolroom, she had already been for two years
the wife of the Commandant of Paris and one of
the leaders of French society. She was a special
favourite of Napoleon and his family, and her sa/on
was frequented by the most illustrious personages
who visited the capital.
Laura was essentially a woman of the world.
Brought up from earliest childhood in the sa/on of her
mother, she had inherited from her not merely her
social qualities, but also that boundless extravagance
which far exceeded the lavish hospitality and magni-
ficence with which the First Consul required the
Commandant of Paris to entertain. Neither she nor
Junot seem to have had any idea of the management
of money ; it flowed like water through their hands.
But these years of brilliant success and prosperity
were very nearly brought to a sudden close during
1802-1804] AT XAPOLEOyS COURT 205
this very summer bj' an act of childish folly on
Laura's part.
She and Junot possessed a small estate called
Bievre, about twelve miles from Paris, where she
HORTEXSE riE nEAlHAKXAIS, DAUGHTER OF JOSEI'HIXE, ANT) WIFE OF
I.OUIS mOXAPARTE. KINC, OF HOLLAND.
( Iklliai d. I
delighted to pass as much time as she could in the
hot weather. The house was not large, but it stood
in a green, shady valley amongst woods that seemed
to join the park, which, though small, was well
planted with forest trees.
2o6 A LEADER OF SOCIErV [1802-1804
Laura was devoted to this place, which she declared
was like a Swiss valley, just as many people say that
Amsterdam is like Venice because in both you see
boats and water ; and who cannot see a pretty view
in England without comparing it to the Alps or the
Bay of Naples, or something else equally prepos-
terous. And her descriptions of it excited the wish
of Caroline Buonaparte, then Madame Murat, to see
the place. Laura and Caroline Murat were at that
time extremely intimate, and it was arranged that
she and Murat should go down to Bievre, and, as
Junot had leave to shoot as much as he liked in the
woods around, they should start early on the morning
of their arrival, Laura and Caroline following the
cJiasse in a carriage, and that they should lunch and
spend the whole day in the woods.
At that time in France riding and driving were
rather unusual accomplishments for a woman. Laura
could neither ride nor drive, and Junot, terrified at
the chance of any accident happening to her, refused
to allow her to learn.
Her drives were nearly always, as was the general
custom, in a closed carriage. Junot, however, pos-
sessed a certain vehicle called a boghey. It was
very light, something in the style of a dogcart,
and Laura cast longing eyes upon it. When she
wished Caroline Murat good-night on the day of her
arrival, she said to her —
"If you like we can have the most delicious drive
to-morrow. Are you afraid to go in a boghey ? "
" No, certainly not ; I should delight in it," replied
Caroline. " Well, it is settled."
Very early the next morning the preparations for
1802-1804] AT X.irOLEOX'S COURT 207
the day's sport began. Laura and Caroline, whose
heads were full of their project, refused to get uj)
until, amid the barking of dogs and general noise
and commotion, Junot and his companions had left
the courtyard and started for the woods.
Then Laura sent orders to the coachman to bring
the hogJuy, and to make matters worse, the horse she
chose to drive was a certain Coco which belonged to
Junot, and was not safe to drive at all ; at any rate, by
an inexperienced person. Laura, however, had taken
it into her head that it was perfectly easy to drive
one horse without learning. So disregarding the
entreaties of the coachman, who was horrified when
he saw who were going in the boghey, she assured
Caroline that she could drive, and they both got into
that vehicle and set off at a tremendous pace.
The)' went on well enough at first, until Laura
foolishly gave Coco a cut with the whip, which, with
the wa)' she fidgeted and jerked the reins, naturall)-
irritated a horse whose temper would not bear trifling
with, so that he took the bit in his teeth and ran
away.
" Laurette," said Caroline, " do you know how to
drive ? "
" No," replied Laura. And they both burst out
laughing, as Caroline exclaimed —
" You don't know how to drive ! Oh ! how foolish.
What will they all sa}- ? But I can drive ; give me
the reins. Which way must I turn ? "
" To the right," said Laura, as she gave the reins
and whip into the hands of Caroline, whose powers
of driving were very little better than her own.
They had left behind them the quiet sandy lane
2o8 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1802-1804
along which the first part of their way led, and were
tearing madl}- along the high-road, where the risk of
meeting carts and other vehicles was added to their
other dangers. A sharp turn led from that into
another lane by which they must enter the woods of
Verrieres, and the jerk of the reins by which Caroline
tried to turn the horse caused him to give a bound
that almost threw them both out, and as they rushed
into the lane Caroline dropped the reins and whip.
They were now just approaching a deep stone-quarry
without a parapet, into which there seemed every
chance of their being precipitated, when the noise of
a horse galloping at full speed was heard behind
them.
" It is Murat ! " exclaimed Caroline, looking
behind her.
Jt was indeed Murat, and he was only just in
time. Something had delayed or made him leave
the shooting party and return to the house, where
the servants in the greatest alarm and distress told
him of this idiotic escapade of their young mistress.
Murat, of course, knew that his wife could scarcely
drive at all, and in consternation mounted his horse
and rode after them as fast as he could. He managed
to catch hold of Coco and force him backwards from
the brink of the quarry. Then seizing Caroline in
his arms he embraced her with tears in his eyes,
kissing her hands and grumbling at her folly, for he
was still ]:)assionatel)' in love with her. " As for you,
Madame Junot," he cried, holding up his finger,
" I hope Junot will make a scene about this.
Mon Dim ! "
Junot was very angry, as well he might be, and it
1802-1804] AT XAPOLEOX'S COURT 209
was some time before he coukl be appeased. How-
ever, a few days afterwards he Ljave a splendid /?/r
chauipetre at Bicvre in honour of Laura, whose fete,
as has been before mentioned, was always celebrated
on the loth of August (St. Laurent).
Dinner for seventy people was laid upon a table
surrounding the trunk of an enormous plane-tree,
the spreading boughs of which formed a tent like
a great hall of green foliage, amongst which were
hung cages of singing birds, while the trunk was
hung with garlands of flowers. Many complimentary
verses were addressed to Laura, various songs were
sung in her honour ; in the grounds were illuminated
transparencies, and over a pavilion in which Laura
kept doves Junot had written the following lines : —
" Quand ma Laure vient visiter
Ses amoureuses tovirterelles,
C'est pour les apprendre d'aimer,
L'art charmant qu'elle sait mieux qu"elles."
These words appeared in an illumination. During
the pauses of the dancing every one rested and ate
ices near a hermitage, in which a hermit made
prophecies, if he did not tell fortunes. A magnificent
display of fireworks crowned the entertainment.
Amongst all other topics the most absorbing and
most interesting just at this time was that of the
Consulate for life, which was now offered to Napoleon.
Junot, who, in spite of his adoration for the First
Consul, was an ardent Republican, regarded this pro-
posal with disfavour, and was too little in the habit
of concealing his thoughts not to let it be evident
After he and Laura had dined one day at Saint
15
2IO A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1802-1804
Cloud he had a private interview with Napoleon,
who questioned him as to the opinion of society in
Paris upon this point.
Junot replied that every one seemed to be in favour
of it, but his manner caused the First Consul to
remark with displeasure —
" You announce that as if you were saying just the
contrary. With the approbation of all France, am
I to find censors in my dearest friends ? "
When after a conversation of about half an hour
they entered the drawing-room, Laura saw at once
that something was the matter, and as they drove
home her husband gave her an account of what had
taken place. Between his ingrained Republicanism
and his adoration of Napoleon he was certainly in
an unfortunate position. He declared that, as an
honest man, he should always speak the truth and
give his opinion according to his conscience. The
First Consul, on the other hand, hated to be opposed,
and cared nothing about anybody's opinion unless it
agreed with his own. Junot told his wife that he
perceived they were beginning to have a court, for
it was no longer possible to speak the truth without
giving offence, a state of things which can scarcely
be considered peculiar to courts ; but Junot fretted
till he made himself ill, and when, a few days after-
wards, Josephine asked Laura to dejeuner at Saint
Cloud, begging her to bring her child with her, Junot
remained at home in bed.
As they left the room after dejeuner Napoleon
appeared, and seeing the child, exclaimed —
" Ah ! ah ! Here is our god-daughter the Car-
dinalesse ! Bon jour, Mamselle ; come — look at me
1 802-1804] '4T NAPOLEONS COURT 211
— there — open your eyes. The devil ! do you know
she is extremely pretty, this little girl ? She is like
her grandmother. Ma foi! yes — she is like poor
Madame Permon. There indeed was a pretty woman
— a beautiful woman — the most beautiful I ever saw."
Meanwhile he was playing with the child, jnilling
her ears and nose, which she did not like. \\\x\. Laura,
foreseeing this, had told her daughter that if she
did not cry once whilst they were at Saint Cloud
they should stop on their way home at a celebrated
toy-shop, where she should have everything she
wished for.
Although she was under two years old, the child
was very precocious and understood this promise, of
which her mother took every opportunity of reminding
her, so that her formidable godfather expressed his
approbation of her good temper, said she was just
the sort of child he liked, and when Laura, on his
inviting her to go out on the balcony with him, was
about to give the baby to her nurse, he said —
" No, no, keep }'our daughter ; a young mother is
always interesting with her child in her arms. What
is the matter with Junot?" he added, as they sat
down on the circular balcony which surrounded the
apartments of Josephine.
" He has fever. General, so that he cannot get up."
"But this fever must have some name or other?
Is it a putrid or malignant fever, or what?"
" Neither one nor the other, citoyen Consul ; but
you know Junot is very sensitive, and when anything
wounds him it affects him in this way. And you
know, General, that a doctor is very little use for that
sort of thincf."
212 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1802-1804
" I see that Junot has told you of the sort of quarrel
we had a few days ago. He was ridiculous."
" Allow me to disagree with you, General. I have
no doubt you are joking, but I can only tell you that
you have misunderstood Junot and given him great
pain. Neither I nor this child can comfort him, and
I don't believe he has told me all that passed."
Napoleon looked at Laura in silence, took her
hand, then dropped it, embraced the child, rose
hastily and disappeared.
Laura returned home and told Junot what had
happened. He was weak and feverish, which, as he
had not slept for three nights and had had on thirty
leeches, was not surprising.
That evening she was sitting by him as he lay
asleep upon a divan. It became dark, but she did
not like to disturb him by ringing for lights, and
after a time she too fell asleep in her chair. She
was awakened by rapid steps on the stairs, and,
starting up, went into the ante-room, into which the
first valct-dc-cJiavibre of Junot came with a light,
followed by Napoleon.
"Good evening, Madame Junot," he said; "you
didn't expect me, did you ? Well, where is your
dying patient ? " As he spoke he entered the little
salon which led from Laura's rooms to Junot's, and
in which he was lying.
"Well, Monsieur Junot, what's the matter, eh?"
cried he. " What are you crying for, great baby ? "
{grand enfant^. " Aha! I will attend to you." And
he began to pull his ears, hair, and nose, according to
the manner, more singular than refined, in which he
was wont to show his affection for his friends. His
1802-1804] AT XAPOLEONS COTRT 213
visit, however, had the effect of restoring Junot to
the health and happiness of which the displeasure
of his idol had deprived him.
Junot was Napoleon's favourite aide-de-camp.
A daring, brilliant soldier, his nickname in the army
was '■^ La Teinpctc.'' At the siege of Toulon, when
the bursting of a shell scattered sand all over the
despatches with which he was occupied, his cool
remark, " Well, we wanted sand to dry the ink ; here
it is ! " gained him the approval of Napoleon and the
admiration of his comrades, but as governor and
administrator he was not a success. Generous,
affectionate, and loyal to his friends, his hasty,
violent temper, extravagance, and dissipation were
fatal to the conduct of affairs in any responsible
post requiring calm judgment, foresight, and dis-
cretion. In spite of the undoubted affection with
which both he and his wife were regarded by the
First Consul, differences were now more and more
frequently arising between them, in which, as
generally happens, there were faults on both sides,
but which tended more and more to estrange them
from each other.
In the voluminous and interesting memoirs left
by Laura an exaggerated worship of Napoleon is
mingled with bitter complaints of his injustice,
harshness, and ingratitude to his old and faithful
friend and to herself. By comparing her statements
with those of other biographers of the time, occa-
sionally even by judging from her own remarks,
one can form a tolerably , decided idea of the
grievances each attributed to the other.
Notwithstanding Laura's literary talents, social
214 ^ LEADER OF SOCIETY [1802- 1804
gifts and worldly experience, she does not appear
to have had the advantage of a well-balanced mind
or to have been at all capable of an impartial judg-
ment upon any matter nearly concerning herself,
those she loved, or any question in which she was
at all interested.
To take a single example — the seizure by
Napoleon's troops of the pictures, statues, and other
treasures of the different countries they overran.
When the French carried off the most beautiful and
valuable possessions of the Italians, Spaniards, and
Germans, to fill the galleries of Paris, she gloried
in the plunder, regarding it as perfectly legitimate
and praiseworthy ; but when the fortune of war
changed, she called the restoration of these same
treasures to their lawful owners an act of robbery,
and no words were too strong to express her grief
and indignation against the Allies for daring to give
back their own property to those who had been
despoiled of it by her countrymen !
The opinions of a person so ludicrously prejudiced
must of course be received with due caution, and, in
spite of her exculpation of and admiration for Junot,
there can be no doubt that the displeasure of the
First Consul was justifiable enough on several occa-
sions, both now and afterwards. He was irritated by
the mismanagement and extravagance of the Com-
mandant of Paris, who, in spite of the generosity
shown to Laura and himself, and the immense for-
tune accumulated so rapidly, was always in debt.
As to the accusations circulated against Junot
of carelessness and incompetence in the business
belonging to his exalted and responsible post, they
1802-1804] AT XAPOLEOX'S COl'RT 215
were asserted by Laura to be slanders devised by his
enemies in order to make mischief between him and
the First Consul.
However that might be, the}' had their effect to a
certain extent ; besides which, the persistent repub-
licanism of Junot brought him on various occasions
into opposition to Napoleon, who could not endure
to be opposed.
Another and most unjust complaint made by
Buonaparte against both Laura and her mother
was that they received and frequented the societx'
of persons who were his enemies.
Now it was undoubtedl}- true that the nearest
relations and dearest friends of ]\Iadame Permon
were of tiie faubotirg St. Gennain, and man)' of
them emigres. How could it be otherwise?
By her own birth, by her husband's principles, by
every tie of gratitude, affection, and sympathy Aladame
Permon belonged to them, and Laura, although placed
by her marriage amongst new surroundings, had no
idea of giving up either her mother's old friends or her
own at the dictation of any one. She was perfectly
loyal to Napoleon, and would never have dreamed of
allowing any intrigues against him to be carried on
at her house ; but this he could never be induced
really to believe, and his suspicious, tx'rannical dis-
position was constantl}' discovering causes for blame
where none existed. And when once an}' such idea
had taken possession of him it was impossible to
divest him of it ; there remained alwa}'s the same
rankling distrust.
Junot was entirely in the right in the next diffe-
rence that took place between him and Buonaparte
2i6 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1802-1804
It was on the occasion of the rupture with England,
which Napoleon chose to represent as being caused
by the perfidy of England in refusing to give up
Malta as she had agreed to do, the real truth being
that England, having expressly stipulated that the
island should only be given up to the Knights of St.
John conditionally on the entire restoration and
re-establishment of the Order, had discovered that,
owing to the intrigues of France, the Spanish priories
had been destroyed, their revenues sequestrated, and
there was no intention of carrying out the conditions
of the treaty. The treaty having therefore become
null and void, war was declared, and the English
ambassador, Lord Whitworth, left Paris.
Before his departure he received positive assur-
ances that the English subjects in France should be
safe and unmolested, notwithstanding which Buona-
parte, in a furious rage, ordered the seizure and
imprisonment of all the English in the country,
Junot had been at work till four o'clock in the
morning, and had only just gone to bed when a
message came from the First Consul requiring his
immediate presence at La Malmaison.
Napoleon was in a state of the greatest agitation
and excitement, and, appealing to Junot as a friend
upon whom he could absolutely depend, he desired
him to take measures that every English man,
woman and child in Paris should be arrested before
the evening.
Junot was horrified at this project, which of course
was quite contrary to international usages. He stood
in silent consternation for some minutes, while
Napoleon, reading his disapproval in his face, went
1802-1804] AT XAPOLEON'S COURT 217
on with his abuse of England anrl threats against his
own officers who opposed his will.
" Are you going to repeat the scene of the father
day ? " he cried. " You and Lannes allow yourselves
strange liberties. Even Duroc must needs come and
preach to me in his quiet way ! By God ! Messieurs,
I will show you that I can put my hat on the wroni^
way.' Lannes has had experience of that by this
time. I don't suppose it amuses him much to eat
oranges at Lisbon ! As to you, Junot, don't trust too
much to my friendship. On the day I doubt )-ours,
mine will be destroyed."
Junot, who, with all his faults, was not a man to
be brow-beaten, represented to Napoleon in the most
forcible manner the outrageous character of the [dhj-
posed measure and the discredit it would bring upon
him and upon France, besides the cruelty and in-
justice it would entail ; and made sundry uncompli-
mentary remarks upon those who were advising it.
Buonaparte, in reply, quoted a remark made by
one of them : " If the First Consul ordered me to kill
my father, I would kill him."
" General," replied Junot, " I don't know how far it
may be a proof of attachment to you to suppose )'ou
capable of ordering a son to kill his father. But it
does not signify ; if a man is unfortunate enough to
think in that way he had better not proclaim it."
Napoleon was struck with secret admiration of the
courage of Junot, who certainl\- risked his future
prospects by his resistance to the will of his chief
Buonaparte himself related the history two \-ears
later to Laura, adding that he very nearly embraced
' Je sais metlre moii bonnet de travers.
2i8 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [i 802-1 804
the disinterested, brave officer as he stood before
him.
However, he did not show any signs of relenting,
but still insisted on the Temple, the Abbaye, La
Force, and the other prisons of ill-omened reputation
being filled with the helpless, unoffending English
— mostly of the commercial class, as those of any
social standing had left Paris in haste.
He thought, or pretended to think, that he was in
danger from them, and gave Junot papers describing
some ridiculous conspiracy, which, on being in-
quired into, resolved itself into an accusation against
a single Englishman, said to have dined in a certain
house, got drunk, and given vent to abuse of and
threats against the First Consul. This was stated to
have taken place on the 3rd of May, and the person
accused was said to have been Junot's friend, Colonel
Green, who, by the way, was a great admirer of
Napoleon.
" You have a gilded tongue" (/a langue dorce)^ said
Napoleon, keeping to the familiar " /// " and " toi','
" but when all is said and done the conclusion I draw
is that you and Madame Junot have a mania for
receiving people who don't like me. If that were not
well known they would not be made to speak in that
fashion."
Junot rej^lied b)- pointing out that even supposing
Colonel Green to have been capable of the conduct
of which he was accused in Paris on the 3rd of Ma}',
the thing was impossible, as he was not in I'^rance at
that time, having returned to London on the 17th of
April.
Convinced at last of the falsehoods he had been
1 802-1804] AT \'APOLEO\''S COURT 2U)
made to believe, Napoleon took Junot by the hand
and spoke to him with all his old kindness and
friendship. But after a lon<]^ conference the only-
concession obtained was that, as long as the)'
remained quiet, the ICnglish should only be detained
as prisoners within the towns in which the}' hap-
pened to be.
In the winter of 1803 the First Consul removed
Junot from being Commandant of Paris — according
to Laura, because he wished to give that post to
Murat, and also because the change from the Repub-
lic to the Empire being now under discussion, he
wanted Junot to be out of the wa\-. Others, how-
ever, assert that dissatisfaction with his administration
of affairs was the reason of his removal.
Me was given another distinguished position, being
sent to Arras to command the grenadiers of what was
then called the " army of England."
Laura went with her children to visit her father
and mother-in-law in Burgundy, and joined her hus-
band a few weeks later at Arras. It was then the
spring of 1804.
CHAPTER XIV
1804
THE change from Paris to Arras could not, of
course, have been a pleasant one to Laura ;
but she amused herself very well in the ancient
capital of Artois, with the balls, dinners, hunting
parties, and reviews which continually went on.
Junot threw himself heart and soul into his work,
for which he was probably much better suited than
he had been for his former post. The camp of Arras,
of which he was now in command, was formed of
twelve thousand grenadiers, intended for the ad-
vanced guard in the invasion of England, and he
proceeded to reform and reorganise it in a manner
that gained the highest approval of Napoleon.
Shortly after their departure from Paris the Chouan
conspiracy was discovered, and the unfortunate
leaders, Pichegru and Georges Cadoudal, met their
death. This was soon followed b\' what is generally
agreed to be the darkest stain upon the career of
Buonaparte, the murder of the young Due d'Enghien,
last of the house of Conde.
This prince was treacherously seized outside the
frontiers of France, hurried to Paris, accused of a.
i8o4] A LEADER OF SOCIETY 221
conspiracy to regain the heritage of his famil}-, of
which he was, however, entirely innocent, and shot at
Vincennes. Surely in Napoleon's sufferings <jn the
barren rock of St. Helena this infamous assassination
was justly avenged.
It called forth a cry of horror and indignation
throughout the civilised world, and the nearest rela-
tions and most devoted friends and partisans of
Buonaparte were for the most part filled with grief
and consternation.
The news was brought to Junot in a despatch,
which he read eagerl\-, with changing colour and
looks of dismay ; then, covering his face with his
hands, he exclaimed —
" I am fortunate in being no longer Commandant
of Paris ! "
Josephine's entreaties had been powerless to pre-
vent the murder, which caused her the deepest distress,
whilst the anger and grief of Buonaparte's mother
were expressed in the bitter reproaches and tears
with which she met him. In silence he listened while
she overwhelmed him with her indignation, assuring
him that the stain of so atrocious an action could
never be washed awa\', and that in committing it he
had only yielded to the counsels of his enemies, who
rejoiced in tarnishing the history of his life by so
horrible a page. She took charge of the faithful dog
who had followed his unfortunate master to the last,
and sent him, with the things she collected belonging
to the Due d'Enghien, to the woman he loved.
Joseph, the eldest and favourite brother of Napoleon,
with whom he rarely had any disagreement, also
strongly expressed his disapproval of this crime.
222 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1804
For some time longer Junot and his wife remained
at Arras. The presence of Madame Marmont, who
was an intimate friend of Laura's, was a great pleasure
to her. Marmont was perhaps Junot's favourite
amongst all his comrades. Davoust was also at
Arras, but was no acquisition in a social point of view,
for although he was really a man of good birth, he
had a hatred for the ancien regime which dated from
the time when he had to endure a great deal of
annoyance from his friends and acquaintances
because he refused to emigrate, but took service under
the republican generals. Carrying his new principles
to an extreme, he was dirty, slovenly, and unmannerly.
The Empire was now proclaimed, and late in the
summer the Emperor visited Arras and Boulogne.
There was a grand distribution of Crosses of the
Legion of Honour at the latter, and a great review
and other festivities at the former place, at all of
which Laura was present. Junot was made grand
officier and grand' croix of the order, and the Emperor
expressed the highest satisfaction with his grenadiers
and showed especial favour and friendship to Junot
himself
Laura was in a carriage with General Suchet and
two or three friends, and when at the end of the
review the troops were about to defile past she got
out and walked about in order to see them better.
The Emperor, who recognised her from a distance,
sent an officer to invite her to come nearer to him
that she might have a better view.
When the review was over. Napoleon, leaving the
group in which he was, rode up to Laura, and, taking
off his hat, asked her how she was, whether she was
1804] AT \APOLEO\S COURT 223
amusing herself at Arras, and if she wanted to go
back to Paris. But she was so confused by this
unexpected attention, and by suddenly remembering
the necessity of addressing him as " Sire" or " Vo^rc
Majestc" that she was seized with an unwonted shy-
ness, and replied with an embarrassment which
irritated her whenever she recollected it. The
Emperor remained talking to her, and then, with a
smile, took his leave and rode back.
Before leaving Arras he gave Junot a pension of
30,000 francs for life, to date from his departure from
Paris nine months before.
Theyi'Vt' at Boulogne was also magnificent, and in
the evening Junot received orders from the Emperor
to go to Calais on business of importance as quickly
as possible.
He proposed to Laura that they should start
directly they left the ball, by which means they should
arrive at Calais very earl\', have 'tea a rariglaise at the
famous Hotel Desscin, and walk about Calais for an
hour or two. The)' arrived accordingly at seven
o'clock in the morning, and Laura, though she did
not find much else to admire in Calais, was delighted
with that celebrated establishment, which was now a
scene of despair on account of the rupture of the
treaty of Amiens, the English being its special
supporters.
After these festivities Junot and his wife left Arras
and returned to their Jiotel in Paris in time to be
present at the coronation of the Emperor.
The formation of the new Court was now the
subject of universal interest, not only amongst the
adherents of Napoleon but amongst many others who
224 '4 LEADER OF SOCIETY [1804
had hitherto held aloof, but now surrounded Josephine
eagerly petitioning for places as iia//u' dii palais,
chamberlain, &c.
The principal posts were given to the friends and
partisans of Buonaparte, although amongst them were
to be found a few historic names welcomed by
Napoleon, whose great wish to carry out what Laura
called " his impossible system of fusion " now became
more conspicuous.
The jealousy, rivalry, and heart-burnings that went
on can easily be imagined. Besides the household of
the Empress, those of the sisters of Napoleon had to
be formed. In that of the Princess Caroline were to
be found a few names connected with the faubourg
St. Germain, which owed her some gratitude for
having on one occasion saved the life of the Marquis
de la Riviere. In that of the Princess Elisa no such
names appeared. She was the least pleasant and
popular of the sisters, even in her own famih', and
with Napoleon she often disputed and cjuarrelled.
On one occasion they had an angry discussion
about a play called " VVenceslas." Napoleon ordered
Talma to read the first act to him, at the end of which
he said that VVenceslas was an old fool, and Ladislas
an unnatural son, that the play was good for nothing,
and they had much better read " Corneille." The
Princess Elisa contradicted him, and she and Napoleon
so irritated each other in the course of their argument
that they both lost their tempers, and Napoleon,
exclaiming angrily, " It is intolerable ! you are
a caricature of the Duchesse du Maine," got up
and left the room.
As for Pauline, she had been married some time
1H04] AT X.U'OI.EOXS COURT 225
before to Camilhj, Prince liorghese, a remarkably
handsome, stupid man, chosen for her by Napoleon
not long after the death of General Leclerc.
J^auline's delight in being, as she said, " a rea/
princess " knew no bounds.
Laura had been at Saint Cloud when that estima-
ble person went to pay her wedding visit as Princess
Borghese to Madame Buonaparte. It was in the
evening in winter. She wore a dress of green velvet
and was covered with the Borghese diamonds. She
walked about, displaying her magnificent dress " like
a peacock his tail," remarked Laura, by whom she
sat down, saying —
" Do you see them, Laurette, ma petite Laurette ?
They are bursting with jealousy, dwh enfant ! I don't
care. I am a princess, and a real princess ! "
Pauline Buonaparte hated and envied Josephine,and
would often shed tears of spite caused by the grace,
beauty, dress, and position of her sister-in-law. Her
own happiness consisted in being more beautiful and
more admired than any one else. She was not only
the first of her family to attain princely rank, but the
only one to keep it.
Neither Lucien, Jerome, nor their mother were
present at the coronation of the Emperor, owing to
family dissensions of various kinds.
Jerome Buonaparte, a spoilt, selfish lad of nineteen,
the only one of Napoleon's brothers whose character
was altogether contemptible, had chosen to marry
in America, without the consent of Napoleon, the
daughter of a certain Mr. Patterson, of Baltimore.
In her " Mcmoires " Laura observes that, although
Jerome was so young, yet, as he had obtained the
16
226 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1804
consent of his mother and of Joseph, who was the
head of his family, the marriage was perfectly legal.
ELISA lUOXAPAUTE. MADAME UACCIOCCHI, (JKAXI) DUCHESS OK TUSCANY.
(Prudhoii.)
Another biographer says that Madame Buonaparte
had not given her consent, and that Mr. Patterson
and his daughter resolved to risk the recognition of
i8o4] AT XAPOLEOXS COrRT 227
the marriage. But considering Laura's intimate
friendship with the whole Tamil)', antl the partial
affection with which she regarded them, it seems
probable that she knew the circumstances of the
case. At an\- rate, Napoleon, whom she so indig-
nantly declares undeserving of the name of t)'rant,
ordered all the ports of France, Holland, and Belgium
to be closed against his brother and sister-in-law,
who had sailed from America.
Jerome, whose cowardly desertion of his wife and
child took place the following year, at first refused to
obey his brother, and returned with his wife to
Baltimore.
Lucien was a man of a very different stamp.
Although he had long since given up the fantastic
follies of his youth, no longer called himself by
absurd names or made himself in anv way ridicu-
lous, he remained consistently republican and inde-
pendent. He made no attempt to conceal his
disapproval of the disappearance of the republic
and the despotic power to which Napoleon was so
rapidly advancing ; and was determined that he, at
any rate, would not bow before the tx'ranny of his
brother.
His first marriage had excited the displeasure of
Napoleon, who was then in a much less powerful
position, and he had recently made a second mar-
riage with a widow, Madame Jouberthon, which had
enraged the First Consul still more.
Madame Jouberthon was good-looking, fond of
society, and had been a good deal talked about,
with or without reason. Lucien was ver)' much in
love with her, and paid no attention to the inter-
228 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1804
ference and indignation of Napoleon, who was now
eager to marry all the available members of his family
to princes and royalties, and furious with Lucien's
want of submission both in public and private
matters, had exiled him. Lucien troubled himself
little about this. He had no ambition, but only
wanted to live in peace with his wife and children
amidst the scenes and pursuits he loved ; for his
pleasures and interests were in literary and artistic
matters. So he retired to Rome, where he was
shortly joined by his mother, who vehemently took
his part. After an angry interview with her second
son, she left Paris ; and although Napoleon caused
her to be placed by David in the great picture of the
coronation, she was really not present at it, being at
that time in Rome, where she had neither title nor
distinction of any kind.
The coronation was a magnificent sight. Laura
had, of course, a place reserved for her in Notre-
Dame, and Junot carried the Hand of Justice in the
procession. It was apparently without emotion that
Napoleon went through the imposing ceremony, and
when the Pope was about to take the crown from the
altar, he seized it and placed it upon his own head.
When he came down from the altar to pass to his
throne his eyes met Laura's, and as she read the
triumph of his look she remembered that drive with
him in her father's carriage from Saint-Cyr long ago,
and his exclamation, " Oh ! if I were master ! " A
few days afterwards the Emperor came up to her
and said —
" Why did you wear a black velvet dress ? Was it
a sign of mourning ? "
1%] AT XAPOLEOX'S COURT 229
"Oh, sire!" cried Laura reproachfull)'; and tears
came into her e)'es.
" But wli}' did you choose that ^loom)', sinister
colour ? "
"Your Majesty could only see part of it. It was
embroidered with gold. I wore my diamonds, and
I thought this toilette was suitable, as I was not
obliged to put on a Court dress."
" Is that an indirect reproach because you are not
made dame du palais ? "
Laura explained that she was far from being
offended, and in reply to Napoleon's persistent ques-
tions replied —
" Well, sire — -but )'our Majesty will not believe me."
" Yes, I will. Come, speak."
" Then I am not sorr}' for it."
" Wh)' ? "
" Because my disposition is not submissive, and
your Majesty will be sure to arrange the etiquette
of the service dlionneur of the Empress like a military
code."
He laughed.
"Well, perhaps so," he said. " An^-how. I am
pleased with you; you have given me a good answer,
and I shall not forget it."
Josephine looked magnificent. Her mantle was
borne by her daughter, Caroline and Elisa, sisters
of Napoleon, and Julie, wife of Joseph Buonaparte.
A few days afterwards Junot came to Laura with
disturbed looks, saying that the Emperor had chosen
him as ambassador to Portugal.
" Well," said Laura, " and wh\' are you not
pleased ? "
230 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1804
" Because I am not made for diplomacy, and
Lannes says that the Court of Lisbon is Hke a mnie
of gunpowder. England is all-powerful there.
Austria threatens ; so do Russia and Prussia, and
you can easily imagine that with the sound of guns
and cannon I shall not go and take a su'sta in
Portugal."
The commands of the P^mperor, however, could
not be disobeyed, so Junot and Laura had to prepare
for their journey, which, as the time approached for
it, she disliked quite as much as he did.
She could not endure the idea of leaving Paris,
which was gayer and more delightful than ever,
especially just at this time when, after the corona-
tion, one magnificent fe/e succeeded another. Also
she would be obliged to leave behind her second
child, who was too young for the journey ; and she
did not like the account Madame Lannes gave her
of society and life in Lisbon.
The Emperor was well aware that the manners of
many, perhaps most of those who composed his Court,
left much to be desired, and he was particularly
sensitive as to the impression they produced upon
foreigners. He knew that Laura was \i^{ faubourg
St. Gerniaui, had been brought up in the salon of
such a mother as Madame Permon, was herself clever,
amusing, and attractive, and possessed a knowledge
of the world which he certainly would not find in
most of the young wives of his generals.
Me gave her minute directions for her behaviour
in Portugal and in Spain, where Junot was also to
go upon important but secret business.
" An ambassadress," he said, " is a much more
i«04] AT XAPOLEOXS COURT 231
important pietr in an embassx' than people suppose ;
it is so everywhere, but more especially with us on
account of the prejudice which exists against France.
It is for you to give the Portuguese a proper idea of
the Imperial Court. Don't be haughty or vain, still
less touchy, but let }-our relations with the women of
the Portuguese nohii'ssc be reserved and dignified.
Vou will -meet at Lisbon several eiiiigtrs of the Court
of Louis XVI. ; be most scrupulously particular in
your intercourse with them. It is in these circum-
stances that you must remember all the good }-ou
derived from the lessons of Madame Permon. Above
all, take care not to ridicule the customs of the
country when you don't understand them, nor yet
those of the Court. . . .
"And be circumspect, you understand. The Queen
of Spain will ask you about the Empress, the Princess
Louis, Princess Caroline, Princess Joseph. You must
measure )-our words. The interior of my famil\- can
bear exposure, but it would not be agreeable to me
that m)' sisters should be painted b)' a bad artist."
After other instructions he observed that ver)' little
French was spoken in Spain or Portugal, but a good
deal of Italian, and desired her to speak to him in
that language. She repeated some verses of Petrarca
and Tasso with an accent so pure that he expressed
his .satisfaction, and then continued to talk of his
family, of the caution to be observed in speaking
of them, of the absolute necessity of never mentioning
himself except as he was alluded to in the Motiiteirr ;
of never getting into any quarrels with the wi\-es of
the members of other legations, in which very often
the husbands became involved, " so that two states
*rT,2 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1^04
may be brought to the verge of war b)- the quarrels
of two silly women." Finall}', he told her to enter-
tain a great deal and to let her sa!o)i at Lisbon be as
agreeable as it had been at Paris.
Before Laura set off on what she considered to be
an honourable exile she took part in several splendid
fetes given by the army and by different societies and
persons to the Emperor. The most magnificent was
that of the Marshals of France, in which the decora-
tions were all of silver gauze and fresh flowers, though
it was in the heart of a severe winter.
A great deal of gossip was just then going on about
a new love affair of the Emperor's, the object of his
attachment being this time a person of unblemished
reputation. To attract the attention of Napoleon was
a real misfortune for a woman. He bore her malice
if she resisted him, and treated her with contempt if
she did not.
He was extremely anxious that this new fanc)'
should not be noticed, and Laura first observed it
at a fete given for the coronation b}' the Minister of
War. Now that there was an Empire and a Court,
there were naturall}' much stricter distinctions of
rank.
The supper was at different tables, round which
only women were seated. Laura took her place at
that of the Empress, thinking as she did so of those
fraternal banquets only a few years since, when
people were obliged to go out in rain or snow and
eat with the pickpockets in the streets, unless thcj'
chose to risk losing their heads by refusing.
The Emperor would not sit down, but walked
about talking to the different ladies of the Court,
i8o4] .17' NAPOLEOX'S COURT 233
amongst whom was Madame , the object of his
present attention, who was sitting next Laura.
The manners of Xapoleon that evening were so
unusuall)' poHte and pleasant tliat the}' seemed to
her unnatural, while every one was comparing this
fi-te to those brilliant jrnnions of the court of
Louis XI\^, whose traditional glories were the envy
and admiration of the mushroom court.
Standing first by the Empress, handing her plate,
talking to her for a few minutes with the greatest
courtesy, he presently arrived where Laura was
seated, and. addressing himself to her, began to ask
if she had been dancing much and if she were going
to take man}- prett}' things to Portugal, where, he
observed, she would herself be an example of all
that was graceful and charming. As he paid these
unwonted compliments he was leaning partl\- on
Laura's chair, partly on that of her neighbour, who
just then tried to reach a dish of olives, which
Napoleon, pushing between her chair and Laura's,
handed her himself, remarking —
" Vou ought not to eat olives in the evening ; }'ou
will do }'ourself harm. And you, Madame Junot,
}-ou don't eat olives ; you are right, and doubly right,
not to imitate Madame , for in ever}'thing she is
inimitable."
The tone and look which accompanied these words
almost startled Laura. Madame made no
answer, but looked down and became crimson.
The Emperor stood by her in silence for a few
moments, and then as he moved awa}* she raised
her eyes, and Laura caught their expression as she
looked after him, which augured ill for her future.
234 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1804
The Empress was very much annoyed, and a day
or two afterwards, when Laura was breakfasting at
La Mahnaison, she took her into her own room and,
contriving to lead the conv^ersation that way, asked
her what the Emperor had said to Madame ,
making severe observations upon those who were
always trying to be the Emperor's favourites, and
declaring that their heads were all turned by a new
novel called " Madame de la Valliere," which every-
body was reading.
It was at midnight on Shrove Tuesday, 1805, that
Laura, with her husband and eldest child, started
upon the journey she so dreaded.
Her grief was rather mitigated by the splendour
with which they travelled, by order of the Emperor,
who desired that the first ambassador of the new
Empire should be surrounded with suitable magnifi-
cence. They travelled by Bordeaux to Bayonne,
and then for thirteen weary days to Madrid, where
they intended to pass five or six weeks.
Laura, who had studied during her journey a
number of books upon Spain that she had collected
and brought with her, passed all the time at her dis-
posal in sight-seeing. She had, of course, to be
presented at Court, and to pay various visits of cere-
mony, and she formed a strong attachment to the
charming but unfortunate Princess of the Asturias,
who died so soon afterwards under strong suspicions
of poison, but who had then been only a short time
married, and was the idol of her husband.
The only /w/e/ in Madrid, the Croix de Malte,
being unfit to live in, Laura and her suite were
lodged in a small house lent to them for the occasion
by a I'rench gentleman of their acquaintance.
i8o4] AT y.lPOI.EOyS COURT 235
When Junot had concluded his business at the
Spanish Court, the}' proceeded to Lisbon, a more
wearisome and dangerous journey than the first.
Laura generally slept in the carriage, which was
drawn by seven or eight mules. The inns were
nearly always unfit to go into, and she had a com-
fortable bed in the roomy travelling-carriage, where
she slumbered or read in comfort as they wound
along through the dreary, half-cultivated plains or
over the wild, open heaths, of which the fragrance
filled the air.
One morning when the\' stoj^ped for breakfast
Junot came to the door of the carriage and called
out —
" Laura ! are }'ou dressed ? Make haste and come
out."
" Yes, directly ! But why are you so impatient ?
Your early journey seems to have made \-ou
hungr\- ? "
"It is not I who am impatient, but an old friend
who has come from Baltimore to breakfast with
you."
When Laura opened the door and stepped out into
the fresh morning air she beheld Jerome Buonaparte,
whom she had not seen for years. .Finding the ports
of France, Holland, Belgium, Spain, Itah', and Por-
tugal closed against his wife, who was now expecting
the birth of her child, he had sent her to England,
had landed himself, and was now on his way to his
brother to try to soften his anger and induce him to
relent in his persecution.
Jerome breakfasted with Junot and Laura, and
then walked about with them in a crarden attached
236
A LEADER OF SOCIETY
[1804
to the inn, before which the cavalcade was drawn up.
For two hours Jerome poured into their sympathising
ears the grievances and difficulties of his position.
n-.NU.MK I!U(JNA1'AKTE. KINCl UV WKS ri'HAl.I A.
(Kinsoii.)
Opening a locket he wore, he showed them the por-
trait of his wife, a beautiful woman, very like Pauline
Borghese, only with more expression and animation.
1S04] AT XAPOLFOXS CO CRT 237
Junot began, as usual, by advising him not to oppose
the Emperor, but as Jerome went on explaining the
whole situation he felt that he could not possibh-
recommend any man to commit so dastardly an
action as to desert his innocent wife and child from
motives of simple self-interest. He therefore became
more and more silent as the conversation went on,
and Jerome said that he would appeal to his brother
the Emperor, who was " good " and " just," and would
listen to him. Jerome declared that he would not
yield, and quoted the case of Lucien and his first
wife, to whom Napoleon made strong objections at
first and became perfectly reconciled afterwards.
Laura, however, knew well enough that it was not
the goodness or justice of Napoleon, but the differ-
ence between Lucien and Jerome which decided these
matters, and when the latter had started on his way
to Paris, and they resumed their journey to Lisbon,
she told Junot that she felt no confidence in Jerome,
but greatly feared for his young wife. Junot did not
agree with her, but events soon proved that she was
rieht.
CHAPTER XV
1805
THEY were now advancing towards Guadiana,
and as they began to ascend the mountains of
Santa Cruz the scenery grew more picturesque.
Villages built on the slopes of the mountain, almond-
trees flowering amongst the huge rocks and boulders,
shady ilex trees and a richer vegetation enlivened
their way until, after they left Meajadas, a town
situated in a fertile plain, the landscape became more
wild and gloomy than before. This part of the
country was infested with robbers, and although their
party was a large one, the\' were by no means safe
from the attacks of the banditti, who were so
numerous as to form a serious danger.
The cavalcade consisted of five carriages and two
fourgons containing luggage, amongst which was a
quantity of valuable plate and Laura's jewels. The\-
had an escort of six men, and there were pistols and
other arms in the carriages, in spite of which Laura,
by no means timid, felt a certain amount of fear.
They had to go through a wood called the Confes-
sional, because it was very rare for any one to pass
alone through it without being assassinated.
23«
i8o5] A LEADER OF SOCIETY 239
Whilst they were at Meajadas they were warned to
keep their escort close to them, as the robbers were
about. A priest of the place told them many stories
of the crimes committed by them, and pointed out
two men dressed in black velvet and leather, with
belts full of pistols, knives, and daggers, who were
just then crossing the little square of the town. He
said they were well-known murderers, who lived at
their ease in the town when they were not out with
the band. The townspeople being poor, had nothing
to tempt them ; but travellers of distinction passing
that way had better beware.
One of the stories he told related to the Count
d'Aranjo, a friend of Laura's, who was Portuguese
minister at Berlin, and was recalled to fill some
important place at Lisbon.
Amongst other jewels, he had with him a very
costly chain of pearls and diamonds, and a blue
enamel watch with the hands and the hours of large
diamonds, which he was taking from Madame de
Talleyrand to the Duchess d'Ossuna. These and
other jewels had been seen, and the Count, who was
brave even to rashness, had the further imprudence
to separate himself from his escort, leaving them to
join him at midday.
He was attacked b)' a gang of brigands, who
plundered all the carriages of his suite, broke open
his boxes, and dragged him and his secretary out,
turning the latter into a ditch.
The Count had hidden the watch and chain about
him, and in answer to the threats of the brigands he
only declared he would have them all hanged, while
his secretar)-, who was an arrant coward, kept lifting
240 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1805
his head out of the ditch and his voice in supplication
to the brigands.
"Monseigneur!" he cried, when he heard his master
refuse to tell where the money and the other jewels
were, " what are you thinking of? Mes bons messieurs,
I will tell you where it is. Look there, to the left,
under the cushion, a little button in the panel. That's
it, jnes bons viessienrs. Take it all, but don't kill us.
The jewels are there too ! "
And when the brigands were gone and he was
again in the carriage and found that his master
had saved the chain and watch, he almost wished
to call the brigands back and give them up to
them.
Laura was by no means reassured by the stories
she heard, and when they passed into the wild forest,
where on each side of the road they kept observing
crosses with heaps of stones, marking the site of some
murder, and when in the part called the Confes-
sional an image of the Virgin was nailed to a tree to
excite the last devotions of the traveller who was
most likely to meet his death amongst those gloomy
shadows, she turned pale, her heart beat faster, and
Junot, though he pretended indifference, stopped the
cavalcade, ordered the muleteers on no account to
lose sight of each other, but to keep the carriages
and fourgons close together, and carefully examined
the arms of the escort. They arrived, however, with-
out any attack at the end of their day's journey,
Junot walking a great part of the way by the side of
Laura's carriage as a precaution, while she strained
her eyes through the gloomy darkness as she gazed
fearfully into the dark wood, expecting to see some
iSo5] AT XAPOLEOX'S COURT 241
sinister face appear out of the thickets. At last they
drew up before a most miserable inn, or rather cabin.
Laura preferred as usual to sleep in the carriage, but
thinking perhaps a room might be better for the
child, she chose the least squalid the place contained,
ordered juniper to be burned and a brazier to be
placed there, had Josephine's little bed prepared, and
soon the little one was asleep with her nurse in the
room, and Madame Heldt, who was a sort of
nursery governess and housekeeper, in the adjoin-
ing room.
During the night the nurse was alarmed by Madame
Heldt opening her door and saying with terror-
stricken looks —
" Madame Bergerot, there is a murdered man
under my bed ! Hush ! " she added, as the other
gave a cry of horror, " they will murder us all !
And see, there is a great instrument of torture."
They looked under the bed and saw the feet of a
man half covered with straw.
" Mon Dieu ! but how are we to get out? And
suppose it should not be a dead body ? "
" What else should it be ? " said the other ; and
opening the window, they looked out into the calm
night.
Every one seemed to be asleep ; there was no
sound but the trampling of the mules in the stalls
close by. But just then, to their intense jo)', Colonel
Laborde, who accompanied Junot, came under the
window. Not feeling at all convinced of the security
of the place, he was making his rounds, and hearing
the women call for help, he rushed into their room,
where sure enough there was the dead body of a man
17
242 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1805
lying under the bed. Opening the window looking
into the forest, he called one of the escort, and they
went down to find the landlord.
It appeared, however, that the man had not been
murdered, but had died of pneumonia, and that
the instrument of torture was an implement for
threshing corn.
Every one awoke. Junot was furious with the
landlord, whom he seized and threatened to kill for
putting two women and his child into the room with
a corpse, but after a time peace was restored, and
they continued their journey without any serious
adventures, except that Josephine's carriage was
upset and she and her attendants had a narrow
escape. Finally they arrived safely at Lisbon.
As soon as she had been presented at court Laura
opened her sa/of/, and following the directions of the
Emperor, which thoroughly coincided with her own
inclinations, she entertained lavishly.
She gave numbers of balls, and her parties, her
dress, and everything about her displayed magnificence
enough to satisfy the French ainouj- propre and daz/le
the different nations represented at the Portuguese
court.
Her position there was a particularl)^ distinguished
and brilliant one, as the other embassies did not
attempt to vie with her in the splendour of her
entertainments.
The wife of the luiglish Ambassador was neither
popular nor socially gifted in any way ; the Spanish
Ambassador was unmarried ; the Russian Ambas-
.sador was not much liked and appeared reluctantly
at the parties at the h^^ench iMiibass)-, his sympathies
i8o5] AT K'APOLEONS COURT 24.-^
beiiii^ English and his powers of concealing them
limited.
Holland was only represented by a consul-general.
It was at the Austrian Embassy that Laura found
her chief friends, and both she and Junot soon
became very intimate with the Ambassador, Count
von Lebzeltern, his wife and three daughters. Of
course she also made numerous friends of different
nations, and was soon perfectly happy and a great
favourite at the court of Lisbon. Passionately fond
of dancing, and, as the Austrian Ambassadress said,
'■ dancing like a fairy in the moonlight," she entered
with delight into all the gaieties around her, which,
however, did not prevent her taking the deepest
interest in her new surroundings — the strange
Oriental-looking town built on seven hills, the steep,
narrow, crooked streets, so horribly dirty that the\'
were only kept from being pestilential by the torrents
of water which poured down them, rendering them
impassable for some time after the violent and
frequent storms.
Laura found the aspect of the streets of Lisbon
much more livel)- than those of Madrid, where the
amount of black in the costumes of the people gave
them an imposing but sombre appearance. She sat
usually in a little drawing-room looking over a kind
of square, across which people were continually
passing. The women wore red capes edged with
black velvet, and handkerchiefs upon their heads ;
but no woman above the rank of a peasant or small
shopkeeper ever walked in the streets. Laura there-
fore, found herself condemned to go out only in a
carriage drawn by four mules ; for with two, as she
244 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1805
said, it was impossible to pay several visits in a day,
on account of the great distances.
The Portuguese theatre, do Sa/itre, was dark and
dirty, the actors bad, and the costumes ridiculous ;
but the Italian Opera was at this time the most
famous in Europe. Crescentini, Guaforini, Naldi,
Monbelli, Matucchi, and, above all, Catalani in the
height of her glory, formed a brilliant company, fully
appreciated by Laura, who possessed all her mother's
love of the theatre.
It being impossible to walk about in Lisbon, she
used very often to drive out to some gardens in the
suburbs and walk about there. In most of these
gardens she was disappointed because, in spite of
their splendid climate, the Portuguese, who neither
knew nor cared anything about flowers or gardening,
took no trouble about them. An immense piece of
ground planted with olives, ilex, and broom was all
the idea most of the great Portuguese families had
of a garden ; or, if they surrounded their villas and
country houses with anything more choice, it was a
shrubbery of laurels, orange-trees, and myrtles, with
a pond. But there was one garden called Bemfica,
an exception to this state of things, in which Laura
delighted to spend her time. It belonged to one of
the Portuguese nobles, and was not very far from
Lisbon. There were laurels five-and-twenty feet
high, palms and bananas, groves of orange and
lemon trees, enormous geraniums, magnolias, daturas,
and many other delightful flowers.
Laura, who was passionately fond of them, had
driven out there one lovely afternoon and stayed
until late in the evening, spending most of the time
i8o5] AT NAPOLEON'S COURT 245
in an avenue of magnolias in full flower. The air
was faint and heavy with the scent of them, and the
full moon was shining in all its southern radiance
when she reluctantly got into her carriage and drove
back to Lisbon, carrying an enormous bout]uet given
her by the gardener of magnolia, datura, orange and
lemon blossoms, and other flowers. All the way
home she kept inhaling their delicious fragrance and
looking dreamily at the moonlight, contrasting it
with that of her own cold, grey France, and feeling a
delightful sort of languor stealing over her, which
Junot remarked on when she got home, saying that
she seemed very sleepy.
As she had walked about all day, however, she
supposed she was only tired, and went to bed,
placing the great bouquet close to her in water,
and though at first she felt unaccountably feverish,
she fell asleep dreaming of her flowers.
It was her custom to get up very early, but the
next morning her maid, finding that it was nine
o'clock and she had not rung for her, came to her
door and listened. Junot thought she must have
overtired herself, and ordered her not to be dis-
turbed ; but when eleven o'clock came and still there
was no sound, he went into her room himself and
opened the shutters. Just as he did so he was
startled by a loud cry from little Josephine, who
had climbed upon her mother's bed and found her
lying pale and insensible.
Her maids rushed in, and Junot, seeing that she
was asphyxiated, threw open the windows, which,
according to the pernicious custom of the time and
country, were closed.
246 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [i<So5
Then, taking his wife in his arms, he carried her
to the open window, and after some time, with much
difficulty the doctor succeeded in arousing her.
Slowly she came to herself, like one aroused from a
heavy sleep, but if Junot had not happened to go
into her room just then she would never have opened
her eyes in this world again. As it was she escaped
with a headache only.
As the hot weather came on the Junots, like most
of their friends, moved out of the town and took a
villa in the delightful district of Cintra, whose moun-
tains and valleys are covered with forests of oak, beech,
poplar, orange, and lemon trees. Cascades fall from
the rocks, and wander in streams through the
meadows ; here is to be seen a convent, there a
ruined castle, whilst everywhere among the woods
and on the mountain slopes are the villas and
country houses of the inhabitants of Lisbon.
The house Junot had taken was in the most lovely
valley of this enchanting region ; and they found
plenty of their friends near them, amongst whom
were the Austrian Ambassador and his family, who
had an apartment in the ancient royal chateau of
Cintra. Often when the heat of the day had abated
Laura and her husband would walk over there, spend
the evening, and after having tea at eleven o'clock,
return on foot through the fragrant woods, lighted by
the moon or the torches carried by their servants.
.^s the summer wore on rumours of war came to
disturb the tranquil life at Cintra. A coalition had
again been formed against France, and Laura in-
veighed against the envious and unreasonable objec-
tions the other Powers ventured to make to Napoleon's
LAUKIi JUNOT (NKli rEUMOX), DfCHESSE DABRANTES.
(Kioni a lithoijraph by Gavarni.J
248 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1805
having — of course, entirely for the good of those
duchies — seized upon Parma and Piacenza, and
united them to France ! Lucca was also " given "
to the Princess Elisa.
With much pleasure they heard that to Madame
Laititia were at last granted the rank and titles
proper for the mother of the Emperor ; and at the
same time Laura received a brevet de dame as one of
the ladies of her household.
Junot grew more and more uneasy lest he should
be absent when battles were being fought, and he
waited anxiously for the summons the Emperor had
promised him if war should break out.
At the end of the summer Laura became danger-
ously ill after a miscarriage, and for six weeks grew
weaker and weaker. The Portuguese doctors in
despair sent her to a miserable village called Caldas
da RaynJia, which possessed springs of such wonder-
ful qualities that, although she was carried there in a
litter, at the end of a week she could walk, and was
soon on the road to recovery.
Before she was well again Junot received his sum-
mons from the Emperor. War was declared, and
Duroc wrote to him to make haste, as he himself had
a presentiment that the campaign would be a short one.
Junot accordingh' hurried to Caldas, where he
only spent a few hours with Laura, and then re-
turned to Lisbon, whence he started immediately for
Paris. The Emperor had already left, so, after pass-
ing twenty-four hours there, he set off in a post-chaise
to follow the army to Germany.
The troops marched so fast that he did not come
up with them till he got to Brunn on the ist of
i8o5] AT XAPOLEOXS CO CRT 249
December. Xapoleon was stanclinrj by a wiiulow
with Berthier at about nine o'clock in the morninf^,
looking out. The weather was foggy and gloomy,
and it was scarcely light.
" What's that I see down there ? " he exclaimed.
" It's a post-chaise — and )'et we don't expect any
news this morning. Wh)-, it's an officier-gcncral.
Really, if the thing were possible, I should say it
was Junot. When did you write to him, l^crthicr?"
Berthier informed him.
" Then it can't be him," said the Emperor. "He
has twelve hundred leagues to travel after us, and
with the best will in the world "
At that moment the aide-de-camp dc serince an-
nounced General Junot.
Laura meanwhile returned to Lisbon, going in a
boat up the Tagus, and being nearly drowned on the
way, for a fearful storm came on, the sails were torn
and the boat nearly swamped. Twenty men were
rowing, but they could scarcel}- make way. At last
Laura, dripping wet but congratulating herself that
her child was not with her, was carried on shore
through the water, and taken to a house where she
got a fire and dry clothes ; and that evening she
found herself safe in her little }-ellow drawing-room
at the French Embassy, with Josephine on her knee,
and several friends sitting with her, listening to the
raging of the tempest outside.
Five days afterwards she was awakened in the
morning by a cannonade so furious that the house
shook with each volley. She sent at once to
M. de Ra)'neral, charge d'affaires, in Junot's absence,
to know what had happened.
250 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1805
The news of Trafalgar had arrived in the night,
and the EngHsh ships, of which the harbour was
full, were celebrating the victory. But their triumph
was mingled with mourning, for Nelson was dead.
The consternation with which the English victory
had filled the French Embassy was, however, soon
changed into rejoicing at the tidings of the Austrian
defeat at Ulm and the surrender of General Mack
and his army. The battle of Austerlitz was the
crowning success of the campaign ; peace was signed
with Austria, and Junot wrote to his wife from
Munich that Napoleon was about to marry his step-
son, Eugene de Beauharnais, to the daughter of the
King of Bavaria.
Being now strong enough to travel, Laura pre-
pared for her return to France. She went first to
Madrid, and stayed there until February, amusing
herself and going a great deal into society. Then
she set off for Paris, her spirits rising higher and
higher as she drew nearer to the frontier of France.
She made these two journeys slowly but pleasantly
with her child, under the escort of MM. de Cherval
and Maignan, the gentlemen attached to her hus-
band's suite, who took great care of them. Reading,
walking, and botanising on the way, the time passed
agreeably enough, and she arrived at Paris on Shrove
Tuesday, 1806.
CHAPTER XVI
1806
THE household of the Emperor's mother, Signora
La-'titia Buonaparte, now called Madame Mere,
had not very long been formed when Laura, on her
return from Portugal, began her attendance there.
The Emperor and his famil)' had, in order to carr\'
out their pretension to being 1-^rench. changed their
harmonious name of Buonaparte into " Bonaparte,"
pronounced like a Erench word.
Napoleon would even affect to have forgotten the
soft, delicious language of Italy which was that of his
early years, for Corsica had belonged to that country
for si.x centuries and only been sold to France the
year before he was born.
Madame Mere received Laura with great kindness
and affection.
"Ah ! you have no occasion to name Madame Junot
to me. She is a child of my own. I love her as a
daughter, and I hope her place with an old woman
will be made as pleasant as possible to her. For it
is dull for you — is it not ? " she added.
Laura, however, made no objection to her post.
She was very fond of Madame Mere, and always
252 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1806
contradicted the prevailing reports of her stinginess.
It was true that the Emperor's mother exercised
more economy than he approved of ; the simple
ascetic habits of her early life remained ingrained in
her nature. She had no faith in the stability of the
brilliant fortune of her family, and used to reply,
when remonstrated with for saving money, that she
was providing for a future day when she expected
that all these kings and queens would be coming to
her for help. The extravagance of her daughters
displeased her, though it satisfied Napoleon, who
complained to his mother that she kept no state and
spent no money, whereas her daughters all adapted
themselves to their new position as if they had been
born princesses, in which, however, he deceived
himself Pauline was the best, but there was no real
distinction or high breeding about that beautiful but
surpassingly silly woman ; Eiisa was plain, disagree-
able, and badly dressed ; and Caroline, though she
possessed a certain style of beauty, was awkward,
high-shouldered, and had a habit of giggling abso-
lutely incompatible with the manners usual in society.
The Emperor's mother was very glad to have the
daughter of her old friend with her, and used to
talk to Laura with confidence, asking her about the
different people presented to her, whose names were
mostly unfamiliar to her.
One day, on being told that some one whose
name she asked was the Uuchesse de Chevreuse, she
observed, " She doesn't like us ; and she detests the
iMiiperor ; I am certain of that." And on Laura's
asking her reason, she replied, " Her smile, and the
disdainful movement of her head when I asked her if
i8o6] AT \'AI'OLEON'S COURT 253
she were not happy to be so near the Emperor, and
then her silence when I inquired if her husband was
attached to the Emperor's household."
It was true enough ; the new court and govern-
ment were hated at the Hotel de Luynes, and the
Duchesse dc Chevrcusc was afterwards exiled bj-
Napoleon.
Although surrounded with honours and riches,
Madame Mere had no influence at court. The
Emperor had never forgiven her having taken the
part of Lucien against himself Her household was
not a large one ; it consisted of five ladies, an
almoner, a lectrice (reader), two chamberlains, and
four or five other gentlemen.
Festivities soon began in honour of the hereditary
Prince of Baden, who came to Paris to marry
Stephanie de Beauharnais, niece of Josephine. It
was a marriage of state, and as the Prince was ugly,
unattractive, looked sulky, and made himself dis-
agreeable, every one pitied his fiancee, a pretty,
charming girl, sacrificed, like her cousin Hortense, to
the ambition of the Buonapartes.
The Emperor returned, but Junot remained for
some time at Parma, of which he had been appointed
Governor. He kept writing to Laura, throwing out
hints that he wished to be recalled ; at any rate, that
is how she interpreted his constant requests that she
would ask the Emperor when she and her children
were to join him there, which she concluded to be
an indirect way of inquiring whether his stay was to
be long enough to make it worth while.
But Laura did not want to go to Italy. She was
very happy at Paris, where she had only just returned,
254 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1806
and the rumours she heard of Junot's proceedings at
Parma convinced her that she was just as well away.
She looked with philosophic composure upon the
frequent and passing flirtations and infidelities of her
husband, which she never seems to have cared to
imitate. Her children, her books, her friends and
society, were interests sufficient for her happiness, and
the love intrigues in which Junot, after his first
passionate love for herself had subsided into a strong
though unromantic affection and friendship, was
constantly entangling himself, did not greatly
trouble her. She knew perfectly well that they
would not last, and that to Junot they were merely
the amusements of the passing hour which in no
way interfered with his affection for herself and his
children. I
Of course to many women of our own day, and
especially of Anglo-Saxon race, such an union as
this would be impossible. One of three things they
would do — either they would separate from their
husbands, or they would amuse themselves in the
same way, or if they did not choose to adopt the
latter course and were deterred by important con-
siderations, such as children or social reasons, from
taking advantage of the former, their lives would be
extremely unhappy.
Even at the time in question Josephine's life
was continually embittered by her jealousy of the
■ "After the convention of Cintra . . . my father had orders to
convey General Junot to La Rochelle. . . . Junot and my father
became great friends. . . . Every evening Junot used to take out his
wife's miniature and show it to my father and kiss it. She was a
beautiful woman "(" Links with the I'ast," p. 47. Mrs. Charles
Bagot).
i8o6] AT NAPOLEON S COURT 255
numerous other women who were the objects of
Napoleon's fanc\', althou^rh, far from wishing to
leave him, her one dread was lest he should leave her.
Laura, however, was quite a different sort of
woman.
There had been no romance whatever in her
marriage. Junot was ordered by Napoleon to find a
wife at once. He thought Laura would be suitable
in every wa}\ and having convinced himself of that,
allowed himself to fall in love with her.
She on her part was quite willing to marry any
one her mother chose, provided she felt no particular
dislike to him. All she knew in Junot's favour was
that he was rich, good-looking, and a brave soldier.
It is probable that she was entirely satisfied with
the way her marriage turned out. Junot and she
had no sort of ideal love for each other. Except their
devotion to the Emperor and their love of societ}-
and pleasure they had not a taste in common ; their
religious opinions were entirelx' different ; and }-et
they got on ver\- well together. Junot always
treated Laura with the greatest kindness and con-
sideration, and she looked with indulgence upon his
flirtations, saying that he was '' tres-bcaii garcon, and
must be excused."
She did not, however, under the circumstances feel
inclined to leave Paris and take a long, tiresome
journey to join her husband, who seemed so well able
to amuse himself in her absence, and she told the
Emperor so when he made some remark on the
subject. He replied by one of his usual speeches
about women not interfering with their husbands'
amusements, which was intended for the Empress
256 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1806
who ignored it, but taken up b)- his mother with an
exclamation of disapproval and by the Princess
Borghese, who, as she leaned back in her armchair
arranging the drapery of her shawl, cried out
indignant!}', " Quelle horreurl I should just like to
see Prince Camille taking it into his head to try and
make me approve of ah ! ah ! "
For Pauline, Hke Napoleon's true sister, had one
code for herself and another for her husband. Her
own love affairs were many and various. It was said
that on one occasion when her mother reproached
her for the scandal she caused, saying that her lover
was actually seen going out of the door of her house
in the morning, she replied—
" Well, how else should he go out ? Would you
have him go out of the window ? "
One of her liaisons was with a young officer named
De Canouville, very handsome, a brave soldier, but
as thoughtless and indiscreet as herself, in con-
sequence of which everybody talked about them.
Pauline declared, as she always did on these
occasions, that he was the only man she had ever
loved. However, this lasted longer than most of her
liaisons.
On one occasion the celebrated dentist. Bosquet,
was sent for to her hotel to do something to her
teeth. On arriving he found in the room in which
he was to perform the necessary operation a good-
looking young man in a dressing-gown lying on a
sofa, whom he supposed to be Prince Borghese,
especially as he gave him earnest directions not to
hurt the Princess, but to take great care of her teeth,
addinijr —
rHo6] AT XAPOLEOW'S COURT 257
" I am most anxious about my Taulette's teeth,
and I make \'ou responsible for any accident."
" Don't be alarmed, //wn prince',' replied the
dentist ; " I assure your highness that there is no
danger."
During the whole time the conversation went
on in the, same style ; and M. Bosquet used after-
wards to tell people of the affectionate anxiety of
Prince Borghese for his wife, observing that it was
delightful to see such touching attachment and
conjugal devotion. Every one laughed, and nobod}-
undeceived him ; but this was Colonel de Canouville:
Prince Borghese was at that time in Italy. The end
of the history of Pauline Borghese and Colonel de
Canouville is as follows : —
When the P^mperor Alexander visited Paris he
presented to Napoleon three magnificent fur pelisses.
Napoleon gave one to his sister Pauline who gave it
to Colonel de Canouville. That imprudent young
officer had it made into a doliiuDi de hnssard and
wore it at a review in the Place du Carrousel at
which the Emperor Napoleon was present.
De Canouville was riding a restive horse which he
could not manage, and this attracted the attention of
the Emperor, who called out in a voice of thunder,
" Who is that officer?" and then recognising him and
the fur he was wearing, he sent for Berthier and
asked what he meant by having young fools hanging
about who ought to be at the war. " It is just like
you, Berthier," added the Emperor angrily. " Vou
see nothing — one has to tell you everything. I ought
not to have had to send away that j-oung man."
Berthier bowed, biting his nails, as he always did
18
258 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1806
in any perplexity. The Princess Borghese had
entreated him not to let De Canouville go, and he
trembled at the thought of the Emperor's anger if
he should discover this.
" There are despatches to be taken to the Prince
d'Essling," continued Napoleon ; " let him take them
and start for Spain this evening."
It was Jeudi-gras, there was a ball at the Jiotel of
Queen Hortense. De Canouville in despair rushed
to Berthier, who cried out, " I can do nothing ! I can
do nothing! It is the Emperor's order! Why the
devil did you wear those things ? " And he had
to go.
Camillo Borghese was a great admirer of Laura's,
but he was so dull and tiresome that no possible
amusement could be obtained from his attentions,
which she avoided as much as possible. He was
always falling in love with and making declarations
to the young wives of the generals and others who
formed the Emperor's court ; and being, or fancying
himself in love with Laura, he pursued and tormented
her till she was half afraid of him.
One day when she was going to a ball a bouquet
of flowers arrived from him, in which she discovered a
note written on a piece of vellum in a sort of bad red
ink, so faded and indistinct that she could not make
it out. However, she took the flowers with her in
the evening, and Prince Borghese, coming up to her
with an air of mystery, asked in Italian if she had
found the letter.
" What letter ? " asked .she.
" Hush ! speak lower ! " he exclaimed, looking with
terror to where his wife was sitting, paying no
i8o6] AT XAPOLEOXS COURT 259
attention at all to him. " It is written with my
blood ; " at which Laura went into such fits of
laughter that some of her friends asked what was
the matter, and on being told, so great was their
merriment that Prince Borghese left the ball in
disgust and went home to bed.
Another time a fancy ([uadrille was to be danced
at a ball given b\' the Princess Caroline at the
Palais de I'Elj'sce.
There were to be no men in this quadrille, and the
women, of whom there were fifteen and of whom
Laura was one, were to wear peasant costumes of
Tyrol. It was arranged that they were to assemble
at Laura's house, and then go together to the Elysee
and wait for Caroline in a room opening into a
gallery, where she could meet them.
When they were all assembled in the galler\' of the
ground floor in Laura's /uUe/, a secretary of Junot's
came and told her that some one wanted to speak to
her alone. She went into a little sd/on which was
dimly lighted, and there she saw a figure in an
attitude of supplication, dressed in the Tyrolese
costume of the quadrille. As she approached to see
who it was, the figure came forward and looked so
unlike a woman that she was frightened and turned
towards the door, when the figure rapidly advanced,
seized her in its arms and embraced her, whilst a
well-known voice entreated her not to call for help,
saying, " But it is I ! What are you afraid of? "
It was Prince Borghese.
The Emperor now began to make kings, queens,
and sovereign princes of the different members of
his family, a process which appeared to satisfy none
26o A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1806
of them. Joseph, who was perfectly happy at his
beautiful country place, Mortefontaine, was, much
against his own wishes, made King of Naples, and in
spite of their entreaties and remonstrances he and
his wife were obliged to depart to their new kingdom,
which they were entirely unfitted to rule.
Lucien, the only one of the family who had the
courage and spirit to defy Napoleon, was leading a
tranquil, intellectual life away from his jurisdiction.
Louis, who had submitted to be separated from the
woman he really loved ^ and married to one he
disliked, was now preparing, against his will, to leave
France and become King of Holland, a country both
he and Hortense dreaded, and the climate of which
disagreed with their health and is said to have caused
the death of their son.
The arrangements for the crown and the princess,
chosen to reward Jerome for his cowardly desertion
of his wife and child, were not yet made.
As to his sisters, they were as eager as their brothers
were reluctant to grasp the crowns and dignities be-
stowed upon them.
Napoleon had made Lucca into a sovereign prin-
cipality for Elisa ; and Caroline, insisting on having
the same rank as her sister, was created Grande
Duches.se de Berg. Then Pauline, not satisfied with
being Princess Borghese, wanted sovereign rank too.
The Emperor made her Duchess of Guastalla, but
when she discovered that it was only a miserable
' Louis Buonaparte, when visiting his sister Carohne, then at
Madame Campan's school, fell in love with Emilie de Beauharnais,
a schocjlfellow of his sister's ; hut Napoleon would not hear of the
marriage, and Louis gave way.
i8o6] AT NAPOLEOXS COURT 261
little place she was very angry and began again her
tears and complaints. Then Caroline wanted her
grand-duchy made into a little kingdom, and Elisa
declared that Lucca and Piombino were only a
wretched little principality. The court was rent
with their quarrels and clamours, which irritated
Napoleon.
"Ah ca/" he exclaimed, "what is the meaning (^f
all this? Why are they not satisfied? One would
really think we were dividing the inheritance of the
late King, our father."
July came, and Laura was making unwilling pre-
parations to go to Parma with her two children.
They had both been ill and the weather was very
hot.
One evening, about two days before the one she
had fixed on for the journey, she was at home very
busy giving orders and making arrangements when
General Bertrand was announced, and informed her
that he came by ord/r supcrieiir.
" Eh ! mon Dieii I " exclaimed she, " what is an
on^re siipcricur, and what have I to do with it ? "
" The Emperor sends you word not to go."
" That is much less alarming. And do you know
if Junot is to come back ? "
" I know nothing at all,"
" Nothing positive ; but what is said?"
" Nothing. You know we are as secret as Venice
was. Therefore I know nothing ; but I may guess."
" Well ? "
" Well, I think I may say that there is nothing
but good-fortune in whatever prevents your de-
parture."
262 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1806
Delighted at this reprieve, Laura resumed her
attendance on Madame Mere.
Soon afterwards, when she one day accompanied
her to the Tuileries, the Emperor sent for her to come
into an inner room where he was sitting with some
of his family.
As she made her curtsey he said with an air ot
suppressed amusement —
" Well, Madame Junot, one learns a good deal in
travelling ! See how well you curtsey now ! Does
not she, Josephine ? Does not she look dignified ?
She is not a little girl any longer, she is Madame
I'Ambassadrice — she is Madame — - — -"
And he stopped short and looked at her with a
smile.
" Well," he went on, " what would you like to be
called ? Do you know that there are not many
names which are worthy to replace that of Madame
I'Ambassadrice ?"
And he rolled out the words in a sonorous voice.
She looked at him and smiled, and he continued —
" Oh ! I know you want to hear why you did
not go."
" That is true, sire, and I even wanted to ask your
Majesty whether we poor women are subject to
military law ? because if not "
The Emperor frowned.
" Well," he asked, " what would you do ? "
" I should set off, sire."
His countenance cleared.
''Ma /oz'f" he exclaimed, "I have a great mind
to let you start ! No, no ! stay cjuietly at home and
look after your children. The Signora Laititia tells
i8o6] AT NAPOLEON'S COURT 263
me they are ill. The Empress says my goddaughter
is the prettiest little girl in Paris ; however, she cannot
be prettier than my niece Lajtitia. You ha\e not
told me if you are pleased with Madame Junot,
Signora Lajtitia," he added, turning to his mother.
" And you, are you glad to be with my mother ? "
Laura replied by taking the hand of Madame
Mere and pressing it to her lips.
Madame Mere drew her close to her and kissed
her affectionately, saying —
" She is a good child and I shall try not to let her
be too dull with me."
"Yes, yes," said the P^mperor, pinching Laura's
ear ; " and above all take care she doesn't fall asleep
while she watches \'ou play //lal eternal reversis atid
stares till she is nearly blind at David's picture, n'liieh,
however, is a striking lesson to those zvho shed their
blood in battles, for it reminds them that sovereigns
are ahvays ungrateful^
Laura was thunderstruck, for these incautious
words had been spoken by her at a party two
evenings before and repeated to the Emperor, who,
however, seeing her embarrassment, only said in a
tone at once serious and affectionate —
" They are not all!'
A few days after this conversation Laura was
spending the evening with one of her friends when
a message was brought her that her husband had
arrived. She had sent away her carriage, but set
off to walk home, as it was a lovely summer's night.
On the way she met the carriage with Junot in it,
coming to fetch her, as he was impatient to see her
after more than eight months' separation,
264 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1806
He had no idea why he was recalled, but after
a few days of suspense the Emperor made him
Governor of Paris, in place of Louis Buonaparte,
who was just setting off for his dreary exile in
Holland.
It was the position Junot longed for above all
others ; it was a signal triumph over his enemies,
and the Emperor, when announcing his appointment
to that exalted post, said he was certain that the
people of Paris would receive with delight their
former commandant, who would fulfil his duties as
worthily as before.
Immediately afterwards peace was signed with
Russia, to counterbalance which came the news
of a battle won by the English over the French
in Calabria — a defeat that seemed greatly to depress
the Emperor,
CHAPTER XVII
1 806- 1 807
ALTHOUGH Junot had attained so brilliant a
position, he was not long in becoming dis-
satisfied with it. Whenever France was at war with
any other country, which appeared always likel\- to
be the case, he could only be happ)' if he were fighting,
and he had not been two months Governor of Paris
before he wanted to throw up his appointment and
join the army. When it was decided that the
Emperor should go, his excitement became almost
uncontrollable and only yielded to the representa-
tions of his wife, who pointed out to him that the
interests of the Emperor would be much better ad-
vanced by his remaining Governor of Paris than by
his seeking personal glory on the battlefield.
Napoleon left Paris on the night of September 25,
1806. Junot dined with him, and found him as
friendly and affectionate in manner as in their
earlier years.
A few days after his departure Junot said to Laura,
" I want you to come and dine at Raincy and follow
in your calcche the cliassc Ouvrard has given me leave
to give there,"
266 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1806- 1807
Laura was ready enough ; she was extremely fond
of the country and her beloved Bievre had been given
up, as it was now too small for their requirements and
too far from Paris. It was a lovely day early in
October, and the place was enchanting. The village,
the woods, the old chateau, of which, however, only
part was standing, the rest having been pulled down
with the vandalism of the day, the avenue, the
gardens, the orangery, all delighted her. Junot
showed her all over the chateau, and she was
especially pleased with the immense salon, divided
by columns and statues into three parts, of which
one end was devoted to billiards, the other to music.
The last room they entered was a bath-room worthy
of ancient Rome.
Two immense baths of granite were enclosed
between granite columns with blinds of white satin.
The floor was paved with black and white marble
diXxd giallo antico. A circular sofa covered with green
velvet went along the walls, and above it were the
representations in stucco of mythological subjects ; a
lamp of costly workmanship hung from the ceiling,
the chimney-piece was of verde tvitico.
" Mon Dieu ! " cried Laura, " how happy one would
be in a place like this ! "
Junot looked at her with a smile.
" How do you like the chateau and park ? " he
asked.
" It is like fairyland."
" And suppose by the stroke of a wand you became
its mistress? "
" I don't know. It certainly won't happen."
" Do you wish it very much ? Well, it is yours,"
1806-1807] AT NAPOLEON'S COURT 267
said Junot, putting his arms round Laura and kissing
her.
It was one of the happiest da}'s of her life, and she
lost no time in establishing herself there with her
family, in which was now included Madame Lallc-
mand, whom Laura had known in Portugal and whom
she had found living in a forlorn wa)' at Versailles
with a companion, having lost her mother and child,
and her husband being with the army.
Laura, who loved her like a sister, invited her to live
with her, and she continued to do so very happily for
eight years.
Junot's mother also spent a great deal of time w ith
them, and so did several of his relations. It was a
pleasant life at Raincy. Junot could easily go to
Paris and return to dinner, and Laura was as happy
as possible, only disturbed by Junot's longings to be
with the Emperor, which were constantly being
aroused b\' the news that arrived from the army.
He kept a map of German}- in his librar\', with red
and blue markers to show the position of the French
and German troops.
The army invading Germany consisted of seven
army corps, under Lefcvre, Bernadotte, Xey, Lannes,
Davoust, Augereau, and Soult. The reserve on the
borders of Westphalia was under Mortier, and the
cavalry was commanded by Murat. It was a time
of intense excitement. Scarcely ever did two days
pass without a letter to Junot from Duroc, Berthier,
or some other friend telling of the triumphs with
which the victorious army was advancing towards
Berlin. Auerbach, Jena, Leipsig, were added to the
list of great battles won by Buonaparte, town after
268 .4 LEADER OF SOCIETY [1806-1807
town fell into his hands, and on October 26th the
French army entered the Prussian capital.
Berthier might well write that it was like magic.
At the capitulation of Erfurt alone 14,000 Prussians,
including five generals and the Prince of Orange,
became prisoners of war, and a hundred and twenty
pieces of artillery, besides an enormous quantity of
military stores, fell into the hands of the French. As
the winter came on Paris became very gay. The
Empress returned from Mayence, where she had
gone with the Emperor, and received as a sovereign
at the Tuileries. The Grande Duchesse de Berg enter-
tained at the Elysce, Cambaccres at his palace, and all
the ministers at their Jiotels.
Junot and Laura began a series of entertainments
by a ^x'a.n^ dejeuner given to Madame Mere, who came
early and drove with Laura all about the place, with
which she was delighted.
Laura presented her mother-in-law to Madame
Mere, and observing that that simple, excellent
woman seemed affected and almost tearful during
dejeuner^ she drew her aside afterwards and asked her
what was the matter.
" F'or you were crying, dear mother," she said.
" Yes," she replied, " but it was with joy. When I
saw myself at the table with the Emperor's mother,
when I saw my child, my dearest son, sitting by her,
I said to myself that this house contained the two
happiest mothers in France, and I cried."
Madame Mere, who was warming herself by the
fire, now asked what they were talking of, and on
hearing, spoke most kindly to Junot's mother, telling
her that Junot was like a son of her own.
1806-1807] AT XAPOLEOXS COURT iCx)
The following clay a hunting party was given for
the (irande Duchesse de Berg, with a dinner part)-
and music afterwards. Then the l^Lmpress came
down and spent the day at Raincy, making herself
as charming as she well knew how to do.
But very soon the excessive friendliness of the
Grande Duchesse de Berg began to cause Laura very
serious misgivings. It was evident that Junot was
the object of her attentions, and Caroline was just
then, except the Empress, who was no longer \'oung
and did not dance, the head of society in Paris.
She opened the balls at which she was present with
the Governor of Paris, she received him constantly
alone, and Junot was soon as much in love with her
as she wished him to be, greatly to the vexation and
uneasiness of his wife, who saw the danger as well as
the folly of this new intrigue.
For although Napoleon saw no objection to the
liaisons of his officers with the wives and sisters of
other men, his opinion was ver)' different when any
member of his own family was in question. This
affair was certain to come to his ears, and Laura was
well aware that Junot was endangering not onl)- his
future prospects but her own and her children's ;
and it was, in fact, from this foolish and unfortunate
entanglement that she always dated the decline of
his prosperous career and the beginning of the mis-
fortunes with which it closed.
The death of her mother-in-law, which took place
at Raincy, was a great sorrow both to her and Junot,
who was devotedly attached to his mother.
He was now constantly engaged in inspecting the
troops that were being poured into German)-, and
270 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1806-1807
only came to Raincy to dine and sleep, sometimes
even returning to Paris after dinner to spend the
evening with the Princess Caroline.
The appointments made by the Emperor were
more and more of members of the ancien regime,
and Laura and Junot, reading over the list in the
Moniteur one morning at breakfast, remarked that
there were a hundred names, every one of which was
to be found in Moreri.
The great question which was now the centre
of the court intrigues was who, in the event of
the Emperor's death, was to be his successor ! For it
was of course very possible that one of the battles
of which the tidings were constantly being brought
to Paris might be fatal to Napoleon, as Trafalgar
had been to Nelson.
All the different parties naturally tried to gain
Junot to their interests. The Empress spoke to
him one evening on the subject, and having first
assured him that it was partly owing to her influence
that he was made Governor of Paris, she brought the
conversation round to the point in question, asking
what would happen in the event of the Emperor
being killed in battle.
" The case your Majesty mentions has been
provided for by the Emperor and the Senate,"
replied he. " King Joseph would succeed the
Emperor, in default of him Prince Louis,^ his sons,
and in default of them Prince Jerome."
"Ah!" she exclaimed, "don't do the French
the injustice of supposing them capable of accepting
' Lucien and his children were exchided fnini llie succession.
Joseph had no son.
1 806-1807] AT NAPOLEON'S COURT 271
as their sovereign such a i)rince as Jerome
Buonaparte ! "
"But, Madame, without defending Prince Jerome
Buonaparte, who is a mere boy, I will remind your
Majesty of her grandson, who would then occupy the
throne of France. That is the order of succession."
" And do }'ou think h^-ance, bleeding with internal
wounds, would risk new dangers by a regency ? I
am certain that there would be great opposition
to my grandson, but none at all to my son Eugene."
For Josephine's great wish had always been that
Napoleon should adopt her son, to whom he was
deeply attached, and who was adored by the army.
Junot hesitated. Against the personal character
of Eugene de Beauharnais there was nothing to
be said, but it was a subject of too great importance
to trifle with, and although the conversation was
a long one, he took care not to commit himself in
any way.
The Princess Caroline, on the other hand, was
eager to get together a party strong enough to
place her husband upon the throne in the event
of its becoming vacant, though of course there was
never any chance of success to so absurd a project
as that of making Murat the successor of Napoleon.
Junot, feeling a certain uneasiness after his con-
versation with the Empress, confided it to Cam-
baceres.
" Well," he said, " and what did you understand ? "
" I understood perfectly well that the Empress
was proposing to me to make Eugene Emperor
and King of Italy if our master falls. That is what
1 heard with both my ears."
272 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1806-1807
" And what have you decided ? "
"What? Can there be two opinions about it?
If the Emperor should fall, which God forbid ! is not
there the King of Naples who would succeed? We
could not have a better Emperor. If an evil fate
struck down Napoleon, King Joseph would be my
Emperor."
Cambaceres looked hard at Junot, and said some-
thing about the Princess Caroline Murat ; then, seeing
Junot was decided in his views, changed the con-
versation.
But the other generals would never have borne
the elevation of Murat. After the battle of Eylau
(January, 1807) there was even a quarrel between the
Emperor and Lannes, because Napoleon, in his
bulletin announcing the victory, gave the chief
credit of it to Murat.
" He is a puppet and a buffoon your brother-
in-law," exclaimed Lannes, " with a face like a
poodle and plumes like a dancing-dog. Come,
come ! you must be laughing at us ! You say he
is brave ! Eh ! and who is not in France ? He
would be pointed at if he were not. Augereau and
I have done our duty, and we refuse the honour
of this day to your brother-in-law /n's Imperial and
Royal Highness the Prinee Murat! It makes
one shrug one's shoulders ! And here is the mania
for royalty gaining on him too. Is it to tack his
mantle on to yours that you want to rob us of our
glory ? Oh ! vion Dieu I take it then — we have
plenty of it ! "
" Yes," retorted Napoleon furiously, " I will take
and give glory exactly as I choose, and you may
iHofj-iHoy] AT NAPOLEON'S COURT 273
understand that it is I, and I alone, who give you
your glory and success."
Lannes turned pale, and looking fixedly at him,
replied —
" Yes, yes ! because we have waded in blood
upon this battlefield ! You think you are great
because of this battle of ICylau, and your feathered
cock of a brother-in-law comes and crows out
victory. And this victory, what is it? Twelve
thousand corpses lying there for vou . . . and you
deny to me, Lannes, the justice due to me."
Startled by the noise, Duroc hastily entered, and
the scene was interrupted.
The absence of sons, brothers, husbands and fathers,
and the anxiet)' felt for their safety, did not
diminish the constant gaieties that went on at
Paris during the winter. Laura was passionately
fond of dancing, and Junot, however tired he might be,
would always wait jjatiently and resignedl}- until
she w^as ready to go home. In all respects he was
courteous and considerate for her, except in the
persistent folly of his infatuation for Caroline Murat,
which Laura plainly saw was being encouraged and
made use of in the hope of drawing him into the
party who wished to place the Grand Duke de Berg
on the throne of France, an idea which Junot
assured her he should never entertain.
" Murat ! " he exclaimed scornfully — " Murat
Emperor of the French ! Allans done ! Why not
give it to Lannes, Massena, Oudinot, or any other
general in the army? They are equall\- brave."
About her husband's imprudent flirtation with
the Emperor's sister Laura would have troubled
19
274
A LEADER OF SOCIETY
[1806- I 807
herself very little, especially as he assured her and
she belie\-ed that it was never carried to any criminal
lengths. But dread of the consequences when
Napoleon found out what was going on filled her
mind and affected her health just at the time when
CAROLINE liUOXAPARTK, WllE OF MIRAT, KINC, OF NAPLES.
she was again enceinte, and after having nothing
but girls and miscarriages ardently hoped for a son.
She was so slight and the condition of her health was
so little evident that she could take part in all the
gaieties that were going on ; amongst them in the
theatricals at Malmaison in honour of the Empress's
1.S06-1807] AT XAPOLEON'S COURT 275
/c'/e, in which she and Junot, the lunperor's two
sisters, and several other young people were to act.
Pauline Borghese and Caroline Murat gave a great
deal of trouble about their dresses, their songs, their
l^arts, and everything else. The\' disturbed Laura
perpetually. The Grande Duchcsse dc Berg would
send for her before she was dressed in the morning
and the Princess Borghese would come to her room
before she was up, spring upon the bed and sit there,
preventing her from rising while she talked and
chattered about the dresses and arrangements or told
her that she ought not to allow the proceedings of
Caroline and Junot.
Laura persuaded Mademoiselle Mars to come
occasionally and give her a lesson during the
fortnight of preparation, and the admiration she
had always felt for that great actress grew into
enthusiasm under the fascination of a more intimate
association with her.
The/i'/^ at La Malmaison began early in the day
with a dejeuner, and in the course of the afternoon
the Grande Duchesse de Berg had an attack of nerves,
to which she was subject, and which ended in a
fainting fit. While she was unconscious a letter
fell out of the corsage of her dress and was picked
up by the Empress, who put it into her hand, which
she kept closed in her own until the Princess re-
gained her senses. Directly she became aware of
this the Princess Caroline, looking at the note, ex-
claimed, " It is from Murat! " but her confusion
and uncalled-for explanation were not necessary
to enlighten Laura, who knew perfectly well who
was the writer of it.
2/^) A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1806-1807
The theatricals were a brilhant success, and it was
very late when those who took part in them left
La Malmaison. The Grande Duchesse de Berg
insisted on Junot and his wife going in her carriage,
much to the disgust of Laura, who would have been
far more comfortable in her own, especially as the
Princess had another attack on the way which
delayed them, so that they did not get to Paris
till three o'clock in the morning, and then Junot
went into the palace with her and Laura returned
alone to her /nUi'/.
In the midst of all these gaieties came the dis-
astrous news of the death from croup of Prince
Louis, the eldest son of the King of Holland. It
would seem as if the death of a child under seven
years old, with two brothers to succeed him, could
scarcely be an irreparable loss, except perhaps to
his parents. But it is nevertheless true that the
death of this boy was a very important matter.
The Emperor had always been exceedingly fond
of him, and as long as he lived seemed tolerably
resigned to his being regarded as his heir. He was
so like him in appearance as to give rise to the
scandalous reports circulated about Napoleon and his
step-daughter, to which no weight was attached by
any one of importance. He was a handsome and
clever child, of a charming disposition, and the
Emperor indulged and petted him, allowing him to
touch and play with anything he liked, and watching
with delight when, after a review, the child put on
the plumed hat he had laid down, girded on his
sword, and marched up and down imitating the
sound of a drum, lie would take him on his knee
i.Sor,-i8o7] AT NAI'OLEOys COURT 277
and caress him, sayiiii]^ that he would Ljrow up to be
a bra\e and j^ood soldier. Hut for his \(nniger
brothers he cared very little, and when the nephew
who had been his special favourite was gone, his
thoughts and wishes turned much more strongly
towards the idea of a son of his own to succeed him.
Josephine knew this too well, and the fear of the
threatened divorce mingled with her grief for her
grandson's death and her daughter's sorrow.
It was late in July when Napoleon returned to
Paris, after an absence of ten months. The peace of
Tilsit was signed but the war still raged with
England. He was received in Paris with a delirium
of joy such as greeted him after Marengo.
Laura's fears were well founded. Before he left
Poland, where he had spent some weeks in giving his
army a little rest, he had received letters informing
him of the proceedings of his sister and Junot, which
made all the more impression as he was singularly
blind to these sort of affairs which, however well
known to others, were carefully concealed from him
whenever it was possible, and when the objects of the
preference of either Pauline or Caroline were persons
whom it was nobody's interest to injure. Put Junot
had plenty of enemies, who were eager to represent
his conduct in the worse possible light. Accordingly
the Emperor received him with such coldness and
constraint that Junot asked for a private audience
and explanation. He had no trouble in obtaining
either and the indignation of the Emperor at once
broke forth.
"Sire," replied Junot, in answer to his accusations,
" at Marseille I was in love with the Princess Pauline,
278 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1806-1807
and you were on the point of giving her to me as
my wife. I loved her devotedly, but yet my conduct
was that of an honourable man, I have not changed
since then ; I am the same man, sire, with the same
devotion to your Majesty and your family. Sire,
your suspicions pain me."
The Emperor looked at him fixedly and then
crossing his arms with a frown walked up and down
the room. " I am willing to believe what you say,"
he replied at last, " but you are none the less guilty
of imprudence, and in your position and my sister's,
imprudences are faults, if they are not worse still.
What is the meaning of this way of going on? Why
does the Grande Duchesse de Berg go to your box at
the opera? Why does she go in your carriage?
Ah ! ah ! you are surprised, Monsieur Junot, that I
know about your affairs and those of that little fool
Madame Murat."
Junot was confounded, not supposing that his folly,
which, however, was well known to the police and the
public, had reached the Emperor's ears.
" Yes," continued Napoleon ; " I know that and
many other things too in which I am willing to
see nothing but imprudence, but which I consider
seriously wrong on your part. What is this about a
carriage with your livery ? Your carriage and livery
have no business to be seen in the courtyard of the
Grande Duchesse de Berg at two o'clock in the
morning. And that you, Junot, fou should com-
promise my sister ! ah ! " And he threw himself
into an arm-chair. " If Murat were to know of this,"
he went on, after a few moments' silence, " if he were
to hear all these fine stories of chasses at Raincy and
1806-1807] ''i'r NAPOLEON'S COURT 279
carriages with your livcr\' at tlie theatres " — and again
he began to walk up and down — " yes, if he knew all
I have been saying, what would he do? you would
have a terrible storm to meet."
" If Murat thinks he is injured," cried Junot, " it is
not long since we were equal on the battlefield or
anywhere else ; and I will give him any satisfaction
he likes. The Cossacks may be afraid of him, but
it's not so easy to frighten me, and this time I will
fight with pistols."
" E/i ! pardieu ! " cried Napoleon, " that's exactly
what I feared. But I have arranged all that," he
went on, in a milder tone. " I have spoken to him
and it is all right."
" Sire," replied Junot, "I thank you, but I must
remark to your ]\Iajest\' that I do not wish for any
arrangement between the Grand Due de Berg and
myself If he thinks himself injured, which I deny
that he has any right to say, we are not far away
from each other, my hotel is very near the Elysee."
" Yes, yes ! " said the Emperor, " much too near, and
apropos of that, what is the meaning of all these visits
that my sister pays to your wife ? They have been
very intimate I know, but ' autre tei?ips, autre cou-
tiinie' That also has been remarked upon and made
a subject of gossip."
" Sire, my wife is just now ver}' unwell and cannot
go out without the greatest care. Her Imperial
Highness the Grande Duchesse de Berg has been
kind enough to come and see her two or three times
since the spring ; that is what her numerous visits
amount to."
" It is not true," replied the Emperor taking a large
28o A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1806-1807
letter out of a drawer and looking over it with a
frown.
Junot recognised the handwriting and exclaimed
hastily, " I beg your Majesty's pardon, but if you
judge and condemn your sister and your oldest friend
on the accusations of the man who wrote that letter,
I cannot believe in your impartiality. Why it is not
a letter, it is a copy of a police report ; well, he might
have respected, at any rate, your Majesty's sister. But
there are ways and means of making people circum-
spect and polite, which I shall employ with him."
Much disturbed, the Emperor forbade Junot to
challenge either Murat or the writer of the accusa-
tions. Junot swore he would fight with him first, and
if he came safe out of that duel would be ready for
Murat. Napoleon, at last appealing to Junot's
affection as an old friend, and telling him that he
would speak to him again, closed the interview.
In spite of his protestations and attempts to throw
the blame upon the treachery of his enemies, it is
perfectly evident that Junot had no one, and nothing
but himself to thank for the consequences of his
obstinate folly.
The Emperor put an end to his flirtation with the
Grande Duchesse de Berg by exiling him from Paris,
but softened the banishment by giving him command
of the army then assembling on the Spanish frontier.
Junot came to Laura in a state of violent despair,
and she, although seeing the exact fulfilment of her
own predictions, was generous enough not to reproach
him with the senseless vanity and disregard of her
entreaties which had deprived them of their splendid
position ; but to calm and console him, as she had
iSo'i-iSo;] .47' XAPOLEOX^S COURT 2S1
nearly always the power to do, and persuade him to
submit with a ^ood grace to what was now inevitable.
In reading even Laura's one-sided account of this trans-
action, and comparing it with the statements (jf other
writers, it is impossible to help seeing that Xapoleon,
however harshly, even cruelly, he treated Junot in
after }-ears, was in this case decidedly lenient, l^c-
sides his displeasure that Junot should have taken
advantage of the brilliant position he had given him,
to compromise his sister. Napoleon was irritated by
the extravagance both of Junot and of Laura, who,
as the Emperor once remarked to her, was said to
spend more money on her dress than any woman
in Paris.
" You have not committed a crime but a fault," said
Napoleon. "It is necessary that you should leave
Paris for a time in order to put a stop to the gossip
about my sister and yourself. I defy any man to say
any more about it, in view of the confidence with
which I invest \'ou. You will go to Lisbon with
supreme authority, and correspond only with me.
Come, my old friend, the bdtoii dc inarccluxl lies
there."
CHAPTER XVIII
1807
IT was the 20th of August. Junot was to set out
the following day but one. He had gone out
to dinner, and Laura, tired with superintending the
preparations for his departure, was just going to bed,
though it was only nine o'clock, when a letter was
brought from Duroc saying that the Princess Royal
of Wurtemberg would arrive at Raincy at nine
o'clock next morning, as the Emperor wished her to
breakfast there and remain until seven o'clock in the
evening.
After unsuccessful attempts in other quarters the
Emperor Napoleon had succeeded in inducing the
King of Wurtemberg to sacrifice his daughter, who
was to be given to Jerome with the kingdom of
Westphalia as a reward for his cowardly desertion of
his wife and child.
The Empress Catherine of Russia indignantly
refused to allow a Russian grand duchess to be
given to a Buonaparte, even to the Emperor him-
self. It was reserved for the Emperor of Austria and
the King of Wurtemberg so far to disregard the
precepts of the Catholic Church as to give their
282
i8o7] A LEADER OF SOCIETY 283
daughters to men who were alread)- married and
whose wives were still living.
The IVincess Catherine felt this aciitel}', and
although she had reluctantly yielded to her father's
entreaties, her pride revolted against the upstart
Jerome, and her religious scruples assured her that, as
his real wife was alive, her marriage could not be
a lawful one.
Laura sent for her chef, Rcchaud, one of the most
celebrated cooks in Europe, who replied, "Madame
can start for Rainc)' when she pleases ; everything
shall be ready at the time she desires."
She set off at about ten o'clock, rejoicing in the
brilliant moonlight which reminded her of Spain or
Italy, When she got to Rainc}' some o( the foiirj^o^/s
of provisions had already arrived, and all night
along the road carts and different conveyances were
coming and going with the things required at such
short notice.
Laura slept in a room adjoining the bath-room,
that her own might be given up to the Princess, who
at nine in the morning appeared before the chateau,
where Laura, dressed in white moiree with a long
train, and a white toq/ir with feathers, stood waiting
to receive her, thinking all the time of Jerome's pro-
testations and vows of fidelity to his wife and child
that morning on the plains of Estramadura.
The Princess Catherine was between nineteen and
twenty years old, with an air of distinction, but not
to be compared in beauty to the lovely miniature of
Jerome's discarded wife. She looked cold and
haughty, and Laura at first disliked her, but her
courtesy of both speech and manner soon removed
284 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1807
this impression. It was evident that she was suffer-
ing, and Laura pitied her with all her heart. She
had been separated from her German attendants
according to the custom and was surrounded by
those chosen by the Emperor with great care, for
he was exceedingly delighted and proud of this
alHance.
Bessieres had married her by proxy for Jerome,
which did not appear to increase the favour with
which she regarded him. Bessieres was one of the
most polished of Napoleon's Court, but when he
made some joking remark to the Princess Catherine
her reply was such as to put an end to any further
attempts at the infraction of the strict etiquette of a
German Court.
She placed Laura on her right hand, and
conversed for a long time with her and Madame
Lallemand, seeming to breathe more freely when
her father's minister arrived. The dejeuner lasted
till half-past eleven, after which they followed
the cliasse in a carriage till three, in spite of
the great heat. The Princess lost her constraint and
became more cheerful, but when she had made her
toilette in readiness to receive Prince Jerome, Laura
observed with regret that she was very badly dressed,
reflecting that as she was obliged to marry Jerome
she might as well please him.
The Princess dined in the library with Laura,
Madame Lallemand, and three of her ladies, Junot
entertaining Bessieres and the rest. The dinner was
a melancholy one, and the Princess with some hesi-
tation asked Laura if she could be told of the
approach of Prince Jt^rome a few minutes before his
i8o7] AT WlPOl.EOXS COrRT 285
arrival. A man was accordingly posted at the end
of the long avenue leading to the chateau.
The Princess seemed nervous and absent during
dinner, after which they retired to the great drawing-
room, where coffee and ices were brought, and whence
the sounds of laughter and mingled voices were
heard from the dining-room. Presently it was an-
nounced that Prince Jerome would arrive in five
minutes. The Princess thanked Laura with a half
smile, but she became crimson and seemed hardly
able to speak. However, she made an attempt to
calm her agitation, called her first lady of honour and
gave orders for their departure immediately after the
interview. Just then Madame Lallemand hastily
whispered to Laura that she had recollected that the
last time she saw Jerome was at Baltimore with his
wife whom she knew very well, and had certainl\-
better not see him now.
"Ah! ///on Dic/i ! I should think so!" cried
Laura, and she pushed her through one door just as
Jerome Buonaparte entered by another, followed by
the officers of his household.
Jerome was the worst looking of all the brothers.
Short, ill-made, high-shouldered without either grace
or distinction, he could not have made a favourable
impression upon the Princess who turned from the
fireplace where she was standing, to meet him, and
after exchanging a few words pointed to an arm-
chair by her side. They sat for a short time talking
in a formal wa}', and then Jerome rising said to her :
" My brother is expecting us. I don't wish to delay
any longer the pleasure he will have in making the
acquaintance of the new sister I am about to give
286 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1807
him. The Princess rose with a smile, but when he
had left the room her courage gave way and she
sank back fainting. Laura and the others hurried in
from the billiard-room beyond the columns where
they were waiting, and with eau-de-cologne and fresh
air she revived, and after a graceful and diplomatic
farewell continued her journey to Paris, where she
was welcomed with the greatest delight by the
Emperor and his family.
Junot left Paris a few days after for his distant
command, in despair at being forced to go.
In spite of her approaching confinement, Laura
continued to take part in all the festivities in
honour of the marriage of the King and Queen
of Westphalia.
She was now so identified with the Court of
Napoleon, the family of Buonaparte, and the friends
of her husband, that she was necessarily very much
removed from her own and her mother's early
connections of the ancien regime, with the exception
of some very intimate friends such as the Comte de
Narbonne, the De Caseaux, and a few more ; and
she complained of the airs given themselves by some
of the gra7ides dames of the faubourg St. Germain
and their open scorn for the new court.
The faubourg St. Germain dressed differently from
the Imperial court; their sleeves were longer, their
waists longer, and they wore their hair lower over
the forehead in imitation of the Duchesse de
Chevrcuse, who was the leader of fashion in that
set.
The Duchesse de Chcvreuse and Laura had been
friends as young girls, but the marriage of one
i8o7] AT XAPOLEOXS COi'RT 287
with the heir of a great house of the /au/>oi/r<;- St.
Gcnnain, and the other with a conspicuous member
of the court and army of Napoleon, had entirely
separated them for man)' years, notwithstanding
Laura's constant affection for the Comte de Xar-
bonne, uncle of the Duchess.
The Duchesse de Chevreuse was what in those
days was called " origifiale." Nobod}' could imagine
why she had not lost her reputation over and over
again, so many and so strange were her escapades.
She presented to her father-in-law, the Due de
Luynes, a Swedish gentleman covered with crosses
and orders, whom she declared to be of high rank,
and whom the Duke received accordingly, but who
turned out to be a well-known beggar of Saint
Roch whom she had dressed up for the pur-
pose.
She made a bet that she would stop one of her
brothers at eleven o'clock at night in the Palais
Ro}'al, and carried out her intention, to his great
indignation.
Another time, happening to hear that an old
retired grocer was expecting his niece b\- the
diligence from Rouen, she presented herself the
day before in her place, making up some story to
account for her early arrival, and so captivating her
supposed uncle that he wanted to write and get
a dispensation from Rome to marry her.
There was no real harm in the things she did,
and for what was said of her she cared not at all,
her motto which she had engraved upon evcrj-thing
was —
Bioi fairc ct laisscr dire.
288 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1807
One great cause for the enmity of Napoleon
towards her is said to have been her refusal to
become his mistress ; and it seems hardly consistent
with the political opinions she professed that she
should have consented to be dainc du palais to the
Empress. She was by far the most important
person at the Hotel de Luynes, where her husband
was a nonentity in the house and her mother-in-law
was entirely devoted to her. The Duchesse de
Luynes who had been Mademoiselle de Laval
Montmorency, was very pretty as a young girl,
but her beauty having been destroyed by small-pox,
she took no trouble nor interest in dress or the
pursuits usual for women in those days ; but made
her chief happiness in horses and riding ; galloping
about the country, jumping hedges and ditches in
a manner very unusual at that time in France. Her
husband, on the other hand, was always half asleep,
in fact, so strange was the contrast between them
that her brother, the Due de Laval, on being told
of the prospect of her first confinement exclaimed,
" Pardieu ! I am very glad to hear it ; for that proves
to me two things of which I was not sure : that my
sister is a woman and my brother-in-law a man."
The Duchesse de Luynes liked Laura, and at a
great ball given at her hotel, she said to her half
reproachfully —
" You will see here many old faces that will
recall to you the traditions in which you were
brought up."
Later in the evening, as she walked about with
her old friend the Comte de Narbonne, Laura, in
spcai<ing of Louis XVIII. called him "Comte de
i8o7] AT NAPOLEON'S COURT 289
Lille," the name by which the Bonapartists designated
that King.
The old Count looked at her with a smile and
observed, " I don't think \-ou would have spoken
of him so ten years ago."
After the departure of her husband, Laura was
at Rainc}', intending to sta\' there till her confine-
ment was over, when she received an mvitation
which amounted to an order from the Emperor to
go to Fontainebleau for some days.
Not choosing to risk her child being born in the
palace, she took a house in the town, and joined as
well as she could in the amusements that were going
on.
Nothing could be more magnificent than the court
had now become. The luxur)- that surrounded the
Emperor, the splendour of the fetes that perpetuall}'
took place, the excitement of the intrigues and love
affairs for which Fontainebleau was so much better
adapted than theTuileries, would have been attractive
and delightful enough to Laura at any other time.
But just now her health of course prevented her
enjoyment to a great extent, and Junot's letters
from Portugal were full of complaints of the
miseries of the part in which he now was ; a
horrible desert of which the delicious climate and
scenery of Cintra and Estramadura could give no
idea.
These autumn days at Fontainebleau being un-
usually warm and bright were generally spent b\-
the court in the forest, where, after hunting or
shooting, there was a dcjeimcr. Both men and
women wore a uniform, with much more gold, silver,
20
290 .4 LEADER OF SOCIETY [1807
velvet, and feathers than could possibly be suitable
for sporting purposes. Pauline Borghese and
Caroline Murat were at the head of all this gaiet)'
and dissipation.
A young Genoese lectrice in the household of the
Grande Duchesse de Berg was just now the favourite
mistress of the Emperor, whom she had even per-
suaded to allow her to be presented at court, which
no lectrice had ever thought of asking. He was
also persecuting with his attentions another of the
ladies of the household of one of his sisters, who
was nearly always at the hunting parties and
dejeuners ; but who invariably declined his advances.
So infatuated were many of the courtiers with regard
to Napoleon, that it was remarked that she must
be in love with some one else or she could not have
resisted him.
The Buonaparte family encouraged these liaisons
out of spite to Josephine, w^ho with adl her efforts
to appear happy and tranquil, could iiot conceal the
anxiety and depression for Wrhicil she had only too
much cause. Besides all the other incidents which
contributed to destroy her happiness, the air was
full of rumours of the divorce she dreaded and
which her husband's family were eager to accomplish.
"Madame Junot," she said one day to Laura, "they
will not be satisfied until they have driv^en me from
the throne of France. They are pitiless for me."
It was of Pauline, Caroline, and Jerome that she
was speaking. Duroc was also her enemy, but with
more justice. On one occasion when Laura remon-
strated with him on his hardheartedness, pointing
out the sadness and melancholy of Josephine, Duroc
i8o7] AT NAPOLEOX'S COURT 291
pointed to Hortense and his own wife who happened
to be together at the end of the room, and said —
" Look there ! it is heaven and hell ! Who did it ?
Did not she? Xo ! I have no pit\- ! "
One morning every one learnt with surprise that
the Emperor had left for Italy during the night, and
it afterwards transpired that one of the objects of
his journey was to meet Lucien, whom he had not
seen since the marriage which had caused the quarrel
between them some years since.
Napoleon was well aware that of all his brothers
Lucien was the onl}* one who possessed talents and
character to understand and assist him, and being
resolved to make another attempt to win him over,
he had given him a rendezvous at Mantua.
Lucien arrived from Rome with two friends, to
whom he remarked as he got out of the carriage that
very likely he would go back that evening. Then he
went into the long gallery where Napoleon was
waiting for him, attended by Eugene de Beauharnais,
Murat, Duroc, and several others. At a sign from
the Emperor the\- all left the gallery, and the brothers
were alone.
" Well, Lucien," said Napoleon, after the first
greetings were over; "what are your plans? Will
you walk in m\' way now?"
" I have no plans," replied Lucien. " As to walking
in your Majesty's way, what does that mean ? "
Napoleon took up a large map of Europe that lay
upon a table, unrolled it, and threw it before his
brother.
" Choose any kingdom you like," he exclaimed,
" and on my word, as your brother and Emperor, I
292 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1807
will give it to you and keep you in it, for now I walk
over the heads of all the kings in Europe. Do you
hear ? "
Then looking earnestly at Lucien, he continued — •
" Lucien, you may share in my power. You have
only to follow the path I point out to establish and
maintain the most magnificent system a man has
ever conceived. But to carry it out I must be
seconded, and that I cannot be by my own family.
You and Joseph are the only ones of my brothers
who can be of any use to me. Louis is pig-headed
and Jerome a boy without any capacity. It is on
you that ail my hopes are fixed. Will you realise
them ? "
" Before we go any further," said Lucien, " I must
warn you that I am not changed, my principles are
the same as in 1799 and 1803. I am here with
Napoleon the Emperor what I was in my curule
chair on the 18 bnnnairc. It is for }'ou to say if you
care to go on."
The interview was long and stormy. Neither
would yield. In vain did Napoleon use entreaties,
bribes, and threats to win over the only other member
of his family whose talents and character rose above
mediocrity.
The idea of separating from his wife Lucien rejected
with scorn, to the offer of the grand-duchy of Tuscany
or the kingdom of Italy he replied that, were he to
accept either, he would rule according to his own
ideas ; the French troops must leave his territories,
his government should be the blessing, not the curse
of his people, and he ended by saying " I will not be
your prefect."
iSo7]
AT XAPOLEOXS CO CRT
293
Napoleon raged and stormed, but it was of no
avail. Of all his family Lucien had always been the
only one he could not bully or browbeat, and he
valued him all the more for that reason. Conse-
quently the more clearly he saw that this time he
was not going to have his own way the more furious
he became.
Flinging his watch on to the ground he stamped
LUCIEN BUONAPARl'E, PRINCE OE CAXIXO.
upon it exclaiming that thus he would break the wills
of all who opposed him, and telling Lucien that he
was the head of the famil\' and he ought to obey him
as if he were his father.
" I am not your subject," exclaimed Lucien
angril}- ; "and if you think you are going to impose
your iron }-oke upon me, you are mistaken, for I will
294 -J LEADER OF SOCIETY [1807
never put my head under it. Remember what I told
you at La Malmaison."
During a discussion at La Mahnaison Lucien, who
disapproved of the Empire then to be proclaimed,
had said to Napoleon : " This Empire which you
raise by force and maintain by violence will some day
be destroyed by force and violence, and you with it."
There was a long silence, the two brothers stood
opposite each other ; between them was the table on
which lay unrolled the map of Europe. Napoleon,
pale with anger, regained his composure with an
effort and said —
" Think of what 1 have said, Lucien. La unit porte
coiiseil. To-morrow I hope in the interests of Europe
and in your own that you will be more reasonable."
They shook hands and parted. Lucien went
straight downstairs, got into the carriage where his
friends waited for him, and returned to Rome. The
next time the brothers met the prediction of Lucien
had been fulfilled.
Laura's much desired son was born at Paris ; the
Emperor and Empress consented to be his god-
parents. It is needless to say that he was named
Napoleon.
As soon as her health was sufficiently re-established
Laura resumed her part in the whirl of gaieties which
went on during the winter of 1807-8, and to which
were now added numbers of children's parties. It
was indeed a contrast to the secluded convent life of
the little French girls of two generations since ; this
succession of balls, masquerades, &c., in which their
mothers rivalled each other in the costly and
picturesque costumes of the little ones. The heads
i8o7] AT NAPOLEOys CO CRT 205
of this childish society were the two httle sons of
the King of Holland and Achille Murat, a trouble-
some, spoilt boy, who thought himself a great
personage and gave himself airs accordingly, which
the events of a few years later probably caused him
to relinquish.
Neither Junot nor Laura had changed their lavish
expenditure and the Emperor, irritated at the reports
of extravagance he heard, sent for Laura to the
Tuileries one morning, told her that he had decided
to take Raincy off their hands, and desired her to
write to Junot and tell him so. Struck with dismay,
she represented that Junot did not wish to give it up,
but Napoleon replied that it was all nonsense, Junot
could hunt and shoot just as well in the forest of
Saint-Germain, and the expense of keeping up Raincy
was more than he could afford.
" Besides," he added, " I have given Neuilly to the
Princess Pauline, and I want a place for myself close
to Paris. Raincy will just suit me, so there is an
end of it."
The Emperor had by no means given up all hope
of gaining Lucien, and between 1807 ^"d 1809
various negotiations went on between them.
The first concerned a proposition of the Emperor
to marry the eldest daughter of Lucien to the Prince
of the Asturias, who had requested Napoleon to find
him a wife in his family. As the aim of the Emperor
was to place his relations upon all the thrones in
Europe, the proposal to make his niece the future
Queen of Spain suited him very well. Charlotte
Buonaparte was a pretty, high-spirited girl of fifteen,
the eldest daughter of Lucien by his first wife.
296 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1807
The Emperor sent M. Campi, an old friend of the
Buonaparte family, to Lucien with this proposal and
the offer of the kingdom of Naples for himself, saying
he had some other plan for Joseph. He went so far
as to promise that if Lucien would accept the crown
of Naples he should govern exactly as he chose
without any interference, and this time the nego-
tiations between the brothers might probably have
been successful if Napoleon had not brought into the
matter an unlucky instance of that petty malice
which formed so incongruous a part of his disposition.
Whoever has studied the life and character of Buona-
parte can hardly fail to be struck with the strange
way in which the meanest and most contemptible
suspicions, jealousies, and rancour were mingled with
his great qualities, stupendous talents, and vast
ambition. He carried his prying, suspicious tyranny
into all kinds of little domestic details which might
well have been considered beneath his notice ; and in
this case the disappointment of an ambitious plan for
Lucien and the irritation caused by finding that he
had one brother who refused to be his slave gave him
a personal spite against that brother's wife and an
obstinate resolution to separate them which seems as
surprising as it was undignified. For there was no
shadow of complaint against Lucien's wife. She
made him perfectly happy, ruled her household and
children admirably, shared all her husband's pursuits,
entertained with hospitalit}- and good taste. Con-
tinuing his attempts to ruin Lucien's happiness as he
had done that of Louis and Jerome, he made the
crown of Naples depend ujxmi his brother's consenting
to separate from his wife ; to whom he offered the
i8o7l AT NAPOLEON'S COl'RT 297
duchy of Parma and two of her daughters, the rest
of the children to belong to Lucien ! On this con-
dition he would acknowledge her as his sister-in-law !
It was certainly an improvement upon the pension
of 60,000 francs he allowed Jerome's discarded wife,
but as she cared much more to be the wife of Lucien
than the sister-in-law of Napoleon, and he regarded
the offer as an insult, there was nothing more to be
said. It is true that Madame Lucien, in a fit of
morbid, overstrained generosity, sat up all night
tormenting herself, and then went to her husband
with a letter in her hand saying that for her children's
sake she had written to the Emperor to accept the
sacrifice.
"Where is the letter?" asked Lucien, and when
she gave it to him he tore it up and threw it on the
ground.
'' Mon ami! mon ami!'' exclaimed his wife with
tears; "would you deprive your children of a crown ?"
" Would I deprive them of their mother to give
them a crown ? " replied he, and after a few more
observations on her part he declared again that
nothing would induce him to separate from her, and
ended by saying —
" If my brother wishes to give me back his friend-
ship, let him do so without conditions, especially such
cruel ones. We will be always together, mon amit\
never separated."
The proposals were declined accordingly, except
that one regarding Charlotte, which at first was
accepted and preparations made for her departure.
But at the last moment Lucien's heart failed him ; he
said that he could not send his child unprotected into
29« A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1807
a court of which he well knew the corruption and
vice. Therefore the marriage was broken off.
Charlotte afterwards married Prince Gabrielli in
whose great Roman palace her life was sufficiently
splendid and probably much happier.
The time had now arrived when the Emperor
began to create a new noblesse, and not liking, for
various reasons, to take old French titles, he named
his new nobles after the victories and incidents in his
wars —
One day when Laura was in the pavilion de Flore
at the Tuileries, waiting for Madame Mere, she met
Savary, who was greatly excited and asked her to
embrace him, as he had great news for her. This
she declined to do, observing when he told her that
he was made a duke —
" That is indeed a surprising thing, but no reason
at all why I should embrace you."
" And I am called Due de Rovigo," he added,
walking up and down the room, looking so puffed
out with delight that he might have risen in the air
like a balloon.
" Well, what have I to do with your title and your
ridiculous name? " said Laura, who could not endure
him ; but at that moment Rapp came up and in-
formed her that she was Duchesse d'Abrantes, " the
prettiest name of the troopT At dinner she sat next
Madame Lannes, whose husband had been created
Due de Montebello, and who remarked to her that
they two had the prettiest of the new titles.
" Well, Madame la Duchesse-gouverneuse," said
the Emperor when he saw her, " how do you like
your name of Abrantes ? Junot will be pleased, for
i8o7] AT XAPOI.EOXS COURT H)C)
it is a mark of my approbation.' And what will they
say in your salons of the faubourg St. Gennain ?
They will be rather surprised at the reinforcement I
send them."
Laura had still to fulfil the social duties belonging
to the wife of the Governor of Paris, of which post
Junot had not been deprived, and the various
misunderstandings between him and the Emperor
involved interviews and discussions between herself
and the latter.
" Do you know," said Caroline Alurat one day after
one of these long audiences, " that )ou are perhaps
the only woman who can say she has been an hour
and a half with the Emperor? — unless there were
reasons of quite a different kind," she added, laughing.
" For I suppose there are not ? "
" If there were," replied Laura, laughing too, " I
should say nothing about it either way. I should
keep silence. I should think that would be the best
way to play that part, which, however, I imagine the
Emperor would make a ver\' difficult one."
" What part? "
" That of favourite." And Laura went on to relate
to Caroline how a short time since at a masked ball
she was standing close to the Emperor and one of his
' " Without money, witliout transport, without ammunition sufficient
for a general action . . . Junot led a raw army through the mountains
of Portugal on the most difficult and dangerous line by which that
country can be invaded. . . . Trusting to the rapidity of his move-
ments and the renown of the French arms, he made his way through
Lower Heira and suddenly appeared in the town of Abrantes . . .
pressed forward and reached Lisbon in time to see the fleet having the
royal family on board clearing the mouth of the Tagus." (Xapier's
" Peninsular War," vol. i. p. 88.)
300 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1807
favourites, both of whom she recognised and over-
heard. " Prrrrr ! " exclaimed Napoleon, in reply to
some speech of his companion's, "there you are, like
all the rest, with your imbecile reveries. The heart !
What the devil do you think the heart is ? A part of
yourself through which a large vein carries the blood
quickly when you run. Well ! What is that ? See
what your romantic arrangements lead to. There is
a poor girl who has believed the soft speeches of
Murat and is probably ready to drown herself What
do you think of that, eh ? " There was a low sound
of sobs, and the Emperor said impatiently —
" Ma cJicre, I do not like even to see Josephine
cry, and she is the woman I love above all others.
Therefore you are losing your time. Adieu. I came
to the masked ball to amuse myself" And he walked
away and joined Rapp and Duroc.
Junot sent his wife for her New Year's present a
diamond clasp, a magnificent set of sapphires, another
of rubies, and a third of aqua-marines, a string of
pearls, and a box of uncut diamonds which he advised
her to have cut in Brussels, Antwerp, or Holland.
For her uncle, the Abbe de Comnenus, he sent a box
made of jasper with a cameo of the Pope. He desired
her to get another country house instead of Raincy,
and as the summer approached she took one at
Neuilly with an orangery, theatre or salle de spectacle,
conservatories, shady gardens and park, and a trellised
walk along a canal. There she took up her abode
for the hot weather with her children and Madame
Lallemand. They drove into Paris after dinner to
the theatres, rode in the mornings, had private
theatricals, and amused themselves extremely.
i8o7] AT XAPOLEOX'S COl'h'T 301
Napoleon's attack upon Portugal, the friend of
England, was only a preliminary to the French
troops being poured into Spain. I'erdinand, Prince
of the Asturias, whose young wife had died under
strong suspicions of poison, ascribed her death to the
machinations of his mother, who hated her, and to
Manuel Godoy, the paramour of the Queen, who had
been raised to be Prime Minister of Spain. Ferdi-
nand, who had been passionately attached to his
wife, was for some time nearly mad with grief His
father, Charles IV., a weak old man, was governed
by the Queen and Godoy. The court and royal
family were rent by the dissensions between the
King and Queen and their son, who wrote secretl}"
to Napoleon asking him to interfere and to give him
a wife of the Buonaparte family. This was the
beginning of the disastrous war between France and
Spain, in which the English, having taken part, the
victorious career of France began to be checked and
the vast designs of Buonaparte defeated. .
Early in September the Emperor returned to Paris,
after having spent most of the summer at Bayonne
occupying himself with the affairs of what we are
now accustomed to call the Peninsular War.
For the first time Laura observed a difference in
the feeling of the Parisians for Napoleon, and a
certain uneasiness caused b\' the fact of no news
whatever having been recei\ed from the army in
Portugal for two months. She herself was in great
anxiety, and wrote to the Emperor on his return,
begging him to give her the assurance that Junot
was alive. Several days passed without any answer,
and then Cambaceres came to tell her that she
302 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1807
need have no fear for Junot, but that the Emperor
thought it strange that she should permit herself to
question him on a political matter. Not in the least
afraid of Napoleon, but not feeling reassured, Laura
wrote to him again to ask for an audience.
There was going to be a great ball at the Hotel-
de-Ville in honour of Napoleon, and as wife of the
Governor she would be obliged to receive the guests.
This she resolved not to do unless she were certain
that nothing had happened to her husband.
The Emperor appointed an audience at Saint-
Cloud at nine in the evening. When she entered
he was standing at the open door leading from his
room into the garden, looking absent and disturbed.
He turned as she entered.
" Why cannot you believe what I tell you ? " he
began angrily. " Your husband is all right. What
is the meaning oi yowx jcrcuiiades de femuielette?''
" Sire, I have felt reassured since your Majesty was
good enough to say I might be ; but in the position
I now hold I have come to ask your Majesty to
excuse me from appearing at the H6tel-de-Ville
to-morrow."
" Eh ! what do you sa}- ? Not go to the H6tel-de-
Ville ! And why not ? "
" Because I am afraid something has happened to
Junot, sire. I beg your Majesty's pardon, but I have
no news of Junot, and, I repeat, your Majesty has
none either. I will not risk receiving the news of his
death in the middle of a ball."
The Emperor looked angril}' at her, but he
restrained himself, shrugged his shoulders, and said —
" I have told you that your husband is quite well —
i8o7] AT WAPOLEONS COURT 303
why will you not believe me? I can't give you proofs,
but I give you my word."
" Of course that is enough for me, sire ; but I
cannot write it in a circular to the four thousand
people who will be at the ball, and who will think
it very strange to see me there when I have such
cause for uneasiness."
" And why should four thousand people know you
are uneasy?" exclaimed Napoleon in a terrible voice,
coming forward impetuousl)'. " There is the result of
all your conciliahiilcs de salon and gossiping with m\'
enemies. You declaim against me and attack all
that I do. There is the Prussian Minister, who is a
friend of yours, and who was speaking lately in your
house of my tyranny to his King. I am a very cruel
tyrant, certainly ! If their great Frederick that they
make such a noise about had had to punish all the
disloyalty I have, he would have done a good deal
more ; and, after all, Glogaw and Kustrin will be
much better guarded b}' my troops than by the
Prussians, who have no reason to be proud of the
way they defended them."
It was about the tenth time since her return from
Portugal that Napoleon had repeated to Laura things
said in her salon, which had always been true until
now. This, however, she felt certain to be incorrect,
and she said so. Then, as she took her leave, he
observed —
" I forbid you to repeat what I have said to you.
Remember, and take care to obey me, or you will
have to reckon with me ! "
" I will obe\' you, sire, not from fear of your anger,
but because I don't wish to blush before vanquished
304 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1807
foreigners in betraying our internal dissensions," and
she repeated her desire not to be present at the ball
at the H6tel-de-Ville, where her position would be
immediately after the Empress, considering the
reports about the army of Portugal.
" And what reports are there ? " asked Napoleon in
a voice that half frightened her, so that she replied
in a low voice —
" They say the army is lost, that Junot has been
forced to capitulate like Dupont, and that the English
have carried him prisoner to Brazil."
" It is false — false, I tell you ! " he exclaimed,
swearing and striking the table with such violence
that a heap of papers fell to the ground. " Junot
capitulate like Dupont ! — it is all a lie ; but precisely
because they say so you ought to ^o to the H6tel-de-
Ville. You must go there, even if you were ill — )'ou
understand. It is my will. Good-night."
CHAPTER XIX
1 808-1810
IN obedience to the Emperor Laura appeared
at the H6tel-de-Ville. The fete, although as
magnificent as usual, was most melancholy, for the
minds of all present were full of misgivings. A de-
cree had already authorised the levy of 80.OOO con-
scripts for the war, and it was proposed that 80,000
more — these being lads of eighteen, or even younger —
should be raised to defend the coasts. The Parisians
seemed under a kind of stupor. The Emperor knew
well that the absence of Laura would give confir-
mation to the reports circulating about the fate of
Junot and his army ; and probably that the battle
of Vimeiro had already been fought, in which
Junot had been beaten and the army only escaped
destruction by the victorious movements of Sir
Arthur VVellesley having been checked by Sir Harry
Burrard. ^
• Sir Harry Burrard was reaiUed and tried for his mistaken conduct
in this matter. Junot's mismanagement of this campaign enraged
Napoleon, who is .said to have exclaimed, " I was going to send Junot
before a Council of War, when fortunately the Knglish tried their
generals and s;ived me the pain of punishing an old friend." ("' Penin-
sular War,'" Napier, vol. i. p. 173.)
21 30s
3o6 .J LEADER OF SOCIET\ [i 808-1 810
With a sinking heart and an aching head Laura
received the guests at the H6tel-de-VilIe. The
Empress, in deepest dejection, appeared only for
a short time, and left before supper, at which Laura
entertained the most distinguished of the French and
foreign society in a separate room.
The Treaty of Cintra, concluded by Junot with the
English after the defeat of Vimeiro, caused great dis-
satisfaction in England as being too favourable to
France, and did not mitigate the wrath of Napoleon.
The troops were to return to France and Junot with
them. He had been leading his usual dissipated life
in Portugal, and a paragraph in an English paper was
shown to Laura which remarked that they had taken
General Junot's seraglio again. About those affairs
of her husband's, however, she did not trouble herself
but made a hurried journe\- to La Rochelle to meet him,
for the Emperor would not allow him to come to Paris.
Taking with her the wife of Junot's first aide-de-
camp, two maids, and three well-armed men, for
Poitou was just then infested by a band of robbers,
she travelled night and day, enjoying the journey
with her usual light-hearted, adventurous spirits. The
two maids, to one of whom, who had lived with her
mother, she was much attached, were in the first
carriage, with an armed valct-dc-cliaiubrc riding in
front of them ; in the second she herself and her
friend, Madame de (irandsaigne, with the other two
men on the box.
On the second night they were travelling along
the banks of the Loire between Blois and Tours, and
Laura was lying back, dreamih' watching the river
glistening in the moonlight, when suddenly the
icSoS-i8io] .17" \APOLEOXS COrRT 307
carriage stopped. Putting her head out of the
window she saw the postih'oii of the other carriage
dead drunk in the road.
" Mou Dieu !" she exclaimed, "what has become
of the other calklie ? "
There was a general commotion.
" Instead of abusing \'our comrade, who cannot
hear you," she said to one of the postilions, "take one
of the horses and push on to see what has become of
them." And ordering the other one to " arrange the
drunken man as well as he could upon one of the
horses," for she feared to leave him in the dangerous
state of the countrj', they drove on, and soon arrived
at the next stage, where before the inn door stood
the calcclie with the valet-de-chanibre standing by it
and the two women fast asleep inside — which, as she
remarked, was fortunate for them, as if they had
been awake they would certainly have screamed,
frightened the horses, and been upset into the Loire.
At eight o'clock in the morning they arrived at La
Rochelle, where Laura found Junot waiting for her in
a charming apartment which had been lent them, and
her bath and breakfast prepared.
They sent for their three children at once. Junot
had never seen the boy with whose birth he was
so delighted, and they spent a month with their
parents at La Rochelle, during which Junot made
a hurried journey to meet the Emperor at Angou-
leme, coming back depressed b\' his reception of
him. Then he returned to Spain, and Laura, with
her children, took the road back to I'aris.
The passing love affairs of Junot in Spain had
caused no estrangement between him and Laura,
3o8 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1808-1810
who told him of the newspaper report and laughed
at him. " Did you love them all ? " she asked.
" No, no ; none of them."
" I don't believe a word of it."
" Yes, by my faith ! Well, then, I swear it by your-
self. I tell you truly, when I have been distracted
from the straight path, my dear Laura, I deplore the
cause more than I cared for the object."
To one of the ladies in question, the Countess
da Ega, who had been very much talked of with
Junot, Laura afterwards showed much attention and
kindness in Paris to prove that the gossip and scandal
of society did not affect her.
The Emperor was now in Spain, and besides the
hitherto unsuccessful campaign in that country there
were disquieting rumours both from Italy and Ger-
many. Napoleon had ordered Junot to take Sara-
gossa, which he was accordingly besieging. His
letters to Laura were tinged with melancholy and
foreboding ; the horrors of the siege he declared to be
insupportable to any one who had not a heart of
stone. He had a friend in Saragossa for whose safety
he feared ; and the old wounds in his head, especially
a scar which went along the left cheek close to the
eye, were causing him great suffering. On January
1 8th he wrote to her that only the thought of her
and his children prevented his committing suicide.
The coldness and displeasure of the lunperor preyed
upon his mind, and his good fortune seemed to
have deserted him. When he entered Portugal,
power, honour, fame, even a throne were within his
view I — but now !
' " I'cninsuliir War," Napier, vol. i. p. 173.
i8o8-i8io] AT XA POL FOX'S CO CRT :,cx)
Laura was anxious and unhapj)}*, her i^reatest con-
solation being the constant society of her brother,
who was now in Paris, and to whose unchanging
afiection and friendship she always turned.
Society was as brilliant as ever this winter, but
there was a difference ; an undercurrent of depression
and uncertainty seemed to be universally felt. The
Emperor had returned from Spain, and was again at
the Tuileries. He sent Lannes to supersede Junot in
the chief command at Saragossa, which naturally did
not improve the spirits of the latter, and the exile of
Madame Rccamier, for whom Junot entertained an
enthusiastic admiration, was a new grief to him.
Napoleon had disliked Madame de Stael, declared
she was his enemy, and exiled her from France ; but
if he found her talents or intrigues in political matters
troublesome, the same could not be said of Madame
Rccamier, whose popularity and celebrity arose from
her extraordinar}' beauty and sweetness of temper,
but who was content to amuse herself in a harmless
way, doing all the good in her power, but pos-
sessing neither talents nor inclination for politics
or conspiracies.
The ostensible reason for this act of tyranny was a
visit she had paid to her unlucky friend Madame de
Stael, at Coppet, on the Lake of Geneva ; but in the
opinion of Laura, Junot, and man)- others, it was to
be attributed to the following cause. Fouchc who,
of all the villainous characters produced and fostered
by the revolution, was one of the most cruel, remorse-
less, time-serving, and influential, and who was now
Minister of Police, came to see Madame Rccamier,
and suggested to her that she should become one of
5io A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1808-1810
the ladies of honour of the Empress — a proposal
which she declined, saying that the household of the
Empress was already filled up, and that she did not
desire any post in it, preferring her liberty, and
already possessing all she wanted.
For, as the wife of a rich banker much older than
herself and eager to give her whatever she fancied,
universally admired and respected, with numbers of
friends and a blameless reputation, she was perfectly
contented with her lot, and listened with reluctance
to Fouche's assurances that the Emperor was in need
of a friend like herself, who would understand and
sympathise with him, in whom he could confide, and
with whom he could associate intimatel}', but as a
friend only, without love, jealousy, or any agitating
elements to disturb the calmness of their inter-
course.
Madame Recamier heard all this with incredulity,
for she knew perfectly well that this was not at
all the sort of friend the Emperor ever wanted ;
but the insidious and frequent representations of
Fouche, and his suggestions as to the untold good
her influence might produce, began to take effect
upon her mind.
One day, in the midst of all this, she was invited to
dejeuner with one of the sisters of Napoleon, who,
after leading the conversation on to the subject of
the charm of a blameless friendship between a man
and woman of good reputation, observed that such a
friendship was what the Emperor required but was
impossible to find amongst the women with whom he
was surrounded. She then asked Madame Recamier
if she cared for the theatres, and whicii she pre-
MME. RECAMIER.
(Gerard.)
312 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [i 808-1810
ferred, and on being told the Comedie Francaise,
exclaimed —
" Oh, well ! then you must accept my box there. It
is on the ground floor ; you can go there without
making any toilette ; promise me you will."
Madame Recamier unsuspiciously promised, and
the next morning, to her astonishment, received a
letter from the Administration of the Comedie Fran-
caise informing her that the Princess had ordered free
entry to be given to her into her box, and that when-
ever she, Madame Recamier, was there nobody else
was to be admitted without the special permission of
the said Madame Recamier.
This box from which ever}^ one else was to
be excluded was exactly opposite that of the
Emperor, and when Madame Recamier read this
singular letter she at once perceived the meaning
of it all. She expressed her thanks for the offer,
but took care never to avail herself of it.
It is difficult to see why Laura in after life, when
speaking of Sir William Napier's " History of the
Peninsular War," should express such indignation at
the remarks of that officer concerning Junot, for all
he says of him is confirmed by her own writings. He
describes him as by no means cruel, but sensual, dis-
sipated, passionate, and extravagant, at the same time
capricious and generous. Of considerable natural
capacity, but lacking study and mental discipline,
indolent in business, prompt and brave in action,
arrogant and quick to give offence, but ready to
forget an injury ; at one moment a great man, the
next below mediocrity. He was, however, less greedy
and rapacious than Lannes, Soult, and many of the
i8o8-i8io] AT \APOLEOS''S COURT 313
Other French generals, who stole the treasures even of
convents, cut \aluable pictures out of their frames
and carried them off even when the\' did not allow
them to be wantonl)- destro}'ed bj' their officers and
men.' Junot declared he boui^htand paid for all the
jewels he sent Laura which caused so much gossip
and commotion in Paris.
A new campaign was now beginning in Germany
in which he was eager to join, and Laura, alarmed b)'
his letters and anxious about his health, asked Duroc
to obtain an audience for her with the Emperor. Her
intimate acquaintance with that general had excited
the suspicions of Xa})oleon, who observed to him that
he iseemed to take a great interest in Madame Junot,
and asked him upon his honour whether he were
not in love with her.
Duroc explained that there was only a strong and
sincere friendship between them, and the Emperor,
taking several pinches of snuff, looked at him
fixedl}- and said, after a few moments' reflections.
" Well, it is very singular ! "
"It is his ideas that are very singular," observed
Laura, to whom Duroc repeated this conversation ;
" and I believe he is always astonished when he finds
any good in a woman." Duroc also told her that the
Emperor had said that he had had a great affection
for Madame Permon, and took a paternal interest in
herself, but that he wished she would not make her
intimate friends amongst his enemies, or wear so many
and such large diamonds. He promised, however,
that Junot should be recalled in a fortnight, and
Bessieres sent in his place.
' •• Peninsular War," Napier, vol. i. p. 95, iS:c.
314 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [i8o8-]8io
When he arrived, both he and Laura were shocked
at the change in each other. Junot, however, after
three weeks of a course of baths was much better, and
ready to go to Germany, where the Emperor had
given him a secondary command. Before he started
he saw Laura set off for the Pyrenees, under the care
of Madame Lallemand and M. de Cherval, two of her
intimate friends.
She performed the journey lying at full length in
the carriage, and was met at Bordeaux by her
brother-in-law, M. de Geouffre, to whom she seemed
at death's door. But after a week at Cauterets she
was much better, and spent the rest of her sojourn
in that enchanting place, then so little known, in
excursions amongst the mountains, upon which she
was never tired of watching the sun setting over the
ice and snow, and all those marvellous effects of
which the ever-changing panorama only presents
itself to us in scenery like this. With her intense
love of beauty, Laura entered thoroughly into the
fascination of the place, although her mind was dis-
turbed by the letters from Germany, where the war
raged more furiously than ever.
Victory after victory again attended the armies of
Napoleon, but at last even the Parisians began to
murmur at the fearful slaughter and the numbers of
families thrown into mourning. The battles of
P^ssling and Wagram were especiall}' remarkable for
their horrible carnage, and the French troops overran
PViulia, Styria, I stria, and the Vorarlberg.
Lannes was killed in the battle of Essling, and
in spite of their recent coolness Junot and Laura
mourned for him sincere!\-. It was observed that the
i8o8-i«io] AT XAPOI.EOX'S COURT :,\S
Emperor only regretted the loss of the valuable
treneral, and cared nothing about that of the old
friend. Lanncs had al\va}'s been too little of a
courtier and too much of an old comrade to jjlease
him.
The Emperor returned in triumph to Paris, and
Junot also; but a kind of depression and constraint
seemed to pervade society. I'olitics were only talked
of in whispers, but every one's mind was secretly
occupied with the prospect of the di\orce of the
Emperor. His family for the most part were de-
lighted, but the people murmured, for Josephine was
popular, and her evident unhappiness excited their
compassion.
The manner in which Napoleon made public his
intention was as heartle.ss as usual.
There was to be a grand ball on the 2nd of De-
cember at the H6tel-de-\'ille, of which the court)ard
was to be turned into an immense ballroom.
It was the business of Count Erochot to arrange
everything, and Laura gave him the list of the ladies
she had chosen to help her to receive the Empress.
She went to the H6tel-de-Ville in good time, and
found them waiting for her in the salon, leading on
to the staircase. Presently the Count de Segur came
in, and taking her aside into a recess in a window,
told her that they were not to wait for the P2mpress,
who would only be received by Count Erochot.
" Why is this ? " asked Laura, looking thunderstruck.
" I don't know — or rather I do know, but I must
not say " ; and he proceeded to explain that Napoleon
did not wish Laura to sa)' that this order came from
him.
3i6 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1808-1810
''Eh! bontc divine!'' exclaimed she; "then what
am I to say? Am I to go and tell ces dames that it is
a caprice of my own that prevents my going to meet
the Empress ? "
" Why not ? Prettx' women may do as they
like ^"
Laura shrugged her shoulders angrily.
"If only M. de Narbonne were here " she
began, thinking aloud.
" Ah ! nous y voila ! and why ? Don't you think I
can give you as good advice as Narbonne ? What
little good sense he possesses he got from me."
" Then that is why you have so little left," retorted
she. " Come, try to help me a little, I don't know
what to do."
He then explained that the Empress would arrive
alone with her ladies, and the Queen of Naples
would accompany the Emperor. While they were
discussing the matter Junot and Count Frochot came
in and were horrified to hear what was to be done.
However, Junot observed that there was no time to
be lost, if such were the Emperor's orders Laura and
the other ladies of the Court must go at once to the
salle du Trone ; and immediately afterwards the
sound of drums announced the arrival of the Empress.
Junot, in defiance of the Emperor's anger, remained
to receive her, and entered the salle du Ti'cme with
her and her ladies of honour.
Josephine had never looked more graceful and
charming than on this evening as she passed through
the long gallery and anterooms, and entered the
salle du Trone. With a melancholy smile, trembling
lips, and eyes full of tears, she seated herself for the
i8o8-i8io] AT X.iPOLKONS COrRT 317
last time upon the throne, casting a piteous look at
Laura, who could hardly restrain herself from throw-
ing herself at her feet and expressing her sympathy.
Onl\' a few days before, as they walked in the con-
servatory at La Malmaison, Josephine had poured
her grief and despair into Laura's cars, and Laura's
child, who was playing about them, seeing her god-
mother in tears, had thrown her arms round her
exclaiming, " Je ne veux pas que tu pleures."
That evening was intolerable to Laura. The
Emperor arrived soon after and walked rapidly into
the salle dii Tronc accompanied by Caroline and
Jerome. All the time he remained he was evidently
trying to make himself agreeable, and to seem at
ease, but there was an evident constraint about him,
and the gloom and depression became more and
more diffused as the hours went by. The heat was
overpowering, and Laura, oppressed by that as well
as by the agitation she could not overcome, fainted.
Junot, dreadful]}' alarmed, caught her in his arms,
and carried her into Count Frochot's room, where he
tore open her dress, cutting strings and laces wherever
he found them to enable her to breathe. Then,
wrapping her in a shawl, he put her into her carriage
and took her home. Thus ended this disastrous
evening.
In his haste he left her diamonds behind, and
forgot all about them. They were, however, safely
returned next morning.
The divorce was declared soon afterwards, and the
deepest compassion was felt for Josephine. Laura
went often to La Malmaison, which was thronged with
the friends and sympathisers of Josephine, many of
3i8 .4 LEADER OF SOCIETY [1808-1810
whom, especiall}- amongst the lower classes of the
people, declared that Napoleon's star was on the wane.
His quarrel with Pius VII. was the next proceed-
ing which caused still further indignation. He seized
the States of the Church, and made the Pope prisoner ;
in which iniquitous acts he was vehemently opposed
by Lucien who, utterly disgusted at the tyranny and
oppression practised by his brother, resolved to
abandon Europe for ever, and sailed for America
with his famil}'. But the vessel was taken by the
English, and Lucien and his family carried prisoners
to Malta, whence in the spring they were transferred
to England. There he bought an estate near
Worcester, and, installing himself and his family,
he passed the time of his detention peacefully and
happily enough with his studies, surrounded by a
large circle of friends, both French and English.
Since the horrors of the Revolution had come to an
end Paris had never been so /ris/t' as during the
winter of 18 10. The Emperor wished it to be gay,
but his orders and attempts were unsuccessful. There
was no head to society ; the Queen of Naples, who
tried to assume that position, was disliked ; people
said that her parties were dull, the onh' amusement
to be got at them being to see how ridiculous she
made herself by her singing, which was atrocious.
All the royal and exalted personages, of whom
there were many at Paris that year, went down to
La Malmaison to pay their respects to Josephine, to
whom their visits, though jjartly painful, were at the
same time a consolation.
Just after the carnival, Junot was ordered to Spain,
and Laura resolved to accompany him.
I
1N08-1810] .17 XAPOLEOXS COURT 319
It was bitterly cold when they left Paris and
travelled straight to Bordeaux, where they only
stopped for a few hours to see Laura's old friend,
Madame de Caseaux.
When they were girls together Laura Permon was,
after her father's death, left without fortune, whereas
Laura de Caseaux was an heiress. Hut some )'ears
afterwards the de Caseaux had lost nearly every-
thing, had left Paris, and were now living at
Bordeaux. Laura de Caseaux, afterwards Madame
de Castarcdi, was then in Paris, where she had
gone to tr\' to recover some part of their fortune,
and Laura, now rich and influential, had received her
early friend with affection, introduced her to persons
in power, and helped her in every way she could. As
her business could not be finished by the time Junot
and his wife left, Laura de Caseau.x was not able to
travel with them, and they had not even the chance
of letting Madame de Caseau.x, who was now an
invalid, know that they were coming.
As Laura knocked at her door, all the memories of
her childhood, of her mother, of days gone by, seemed
to rise to her heart ; the e.xile and hardships before
her increased her emotion, she entered her old friend's
room in silence, and kneeling down b\- her, buried
her face on her breast and began to cry. Madame
de Caseau.x was deeply affected ; she kept Laura to
dine and stay with her until nine o'clock, when Junot
came to fetch her, as they had to start at two o'clock
in the morning. Madame de Caseaux had not seen
Junot since his wedding-day, and was touched by the
gentleness and kindness with which he talked to her
as he knelt down and kissed her hand, while Laura
320 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1808-1810
was sitting on a cushion at the feet of her old friend,
who was playing with her hair as she used to do in
days of old.
With blessings mingled with lamentations over
the perils and hardships before Laura, Madame
de Caseaux took leave of her, and she returned to
her hotel.
She could not sleep, the wind was bitter and violent,
she felt suffocated when the window was shut and
frozen when it was open, and was thankful when at
two o'clock the travelling carriage came to the
door.
On the way to Bayonne they read in some news-
papers, given them by their bankers at Bordeaux, the
announcement of the coming marriage of the Emperor
with the Archduchess Marie- Louise of Austria. He
had had some idea of an alliance with a Russian
Grand-duchess, but the Empress Catherine indig-
nantly declared that she would rather throw her
into the ■ Neva than give her to Napoleon.
They reached Bayonne in twenty hours, and there
began the real hardships of the new life Laura had
chosen. It was four o'clock in the morning when
they arrived there, and, exhausted with fatigue, she
t'nrew herself upon her bed and fell asleep in her
riding-habit, for she had ridden the last part of
the way.
Presently she was awakened b)' Junot standing by
her, embracing her, and saying, " Adieu."
" Comment ? adieu ? " she exclaimed.
"Yes, I have found orders here that 1 must be at
Burgos by the i 5th, so I have no time to lose, I must
go. You will rejoin me by the next convoy, for which
i8o8-i8io] AT XAPOf.EOX'S COCRT 321
I shall leave an escort of 500 men of the Neufchatel
battalion ; they are trusty men, don't be afraid."
" I don't want them. I did not come to Spain to
travel comfortably with a convoy. I will go with
you."
Junot looked at her with surprise and emotion.
" You will go with me now — without resting
yourself? "
" At once."
"Then I will start later ; lie down again and sleep
for a few hours."
" Not a moment."
" But you are suffering, Laura."
" No."
" Your hands are burning. I cannot let you set off
now. The advanced guard and the first division went
yesterday ; I can wait a few hours without failing
in my duty ; we will start at noon,"
" I assure you that you distress me by all this ; let
us go now. Tell M. Prevot to have my horse saddled,
and understand that I nez'er wish to cause you the
least delay ; that is settled."
Sometimes riding, sometimes driving in a caleche
drawn by mules, sometimes walking, they journeyed
along, the continual passing of the French troops
having made the road tolerably safe.
One evening, about four days after they had
entered Spain, Laura and Junot, tired with much
walking, got into their calcchc, where he fell asleep
and she sat gazing out into the twilight as they
wound up a mountain road, on each side of which
were strewn fallen rocks half-covered with moss, and
amongst them stunted oaks of weird, distorted shapes
322 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1808-1810
grew singly or in clumps and copses. Suddenly,
struck by the singular form of one that hung over the
road, she leaned out to look at it and her forehead
came in contact with the foot of a corpse, which hung
naked and bleeding from its branches — there were
four of them. Her cry of horror awoke Junot, who
ordered the postilion to hurry forward, and assured
Laura that the sight she had seen was inevitable
in war.
" Child," he said, when she reproached him with
his indifference, " if you cannot bear such sights, you
should not go to the war."
CHAPTER XX
ibii
NEY and the two Suchets were then in Spain ;
the elder Suchet had been made marshal, and
had received other tokens of the approbation of the
Emperor, who was especially delighted at the taking
of Taragona and other strong places, and most anxious
for the submission of Spain to the rule of his brother
Joseph, whom, much against his will, he had pro-
claimed king of that country.
Some of the officers gave a ball in honour of Laura,
who, however, did not enjoy it, as the rooms were
miserably small, the atmosphere suffocating, and the
whole thing a failure.
The next day there was a Te Deum sung in the
magnificent cathedral of Burgos, to which Laura went
dressed in the Spanish costume which she often wore.
Her knowledge of the language was the greatest
advantage to her, and she exerted herself to mitigate
in every way she could the horrors that went on
around her ; amongst others, she saved the lives of
three young Spaniards whom the French were about
to shoot for defending their old father when he was
attacked by eleven French soldiers. It was a horrible
3^3
324 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [uSii
war. The progress of the French armies was marked
by plunder, destruction, and bloodshed, while the
Spaniards, justly infuriated against the ruthless in-
vaders of their country, retaliated with their proverbial
cruelty, by deeds of savage ferocity.
The sombre picturesqueness of Burgos preyed upon
Laura's spirits, and she was delighted when they were
ordered to Valladolid, where they were lodged in
the palace of Charles V., in the great square of the
city. Shortly after their arrival, Junot received orders
from Paris to go and take the town of Astorga, which
filled him with delight. Just as he was starting an
order came from Madrid that he should replace
Marshal Ney at Salamanca ; at which he threw him-
self into a violent passion, jumping up, and sitting
down again, crumpling up the letter, dashing it upon
the floor, and swearing vigorously all the time.
" What do you throw yourself into this state for?"
asked Laura, taking hold of his hand. " You can't
follow these contradictory orders. Write to Marshal
Ney, you will see what he will say."
Junot, immediately pacified, seized her hands, kissed
them again and again, received his answer in two
days, and left Valladolid for Astorga on the 14th of
April. He arrived there on the i/th, and narrowly
escaped a shot aimed at him by some hidden foe as
he approached the town. It capitulated on the 23rd,
and Laura received a letter from him written on the
24th, telling her that during the siege he had another
narrow escape, a ball having just missed his left
e)'e. The attempted assassination reminded Laura of
a similar attempt made in Portugal, when a man after
persistenti)' tr)'ing to force himself into Junot's
i8ii] AT NAPOLEON'S COURT 325
presence, was arrested aiul found to be armed with a
dagger and knife, with which lie confessed his inten-
tion of murdering him.
Junot gave him twenty piastres, dismissing him, in
spite of the remonstrances of his officers, with the
remark, "Get away, and don't let your blood be on
my head. Tell your companions I will give a
hundred piastres to the one who will replace )'ou."
On the day the prisoners from Astorga were to
arrive M. Magnien invited Laura to drive with him
to see them enter Valladolid. The day was lovely,
and at first she enjoyed herself, but presentl}' she was
startled b\' the sound of firing not far off, and in-
quired what it meant.
M. Magnien turned to the cAtf de bataillon in
command of the convoy, who replied carelessl}-^ —
" Oh, it's nothing. Some of those rascals pretend
they can't walk, but I have given orders to settle
that. Parbleu ! yes, lame indeed ! If we listened to
them they would all be lame, and find their legs again
to rejoin Don Julian when we had passed on."
Laura thought at first she could not have under-
stood rightl}', but the chef de bataillon clearly ex-
plained that they were shooting all the prisoners who
could not walk, lest they should join the guerilla
chief, Don Julian, At that moment Laura saw two
men fall.
" Let us go back ! let us go back ! " she cried.
" Mon Dieii ! quelle horreiir ! "
" Do you think our prisoners are better treated on
the pontoons of Cadix, Madame? " asked the French
officer scornfully.
" My brother died there, poor fellow."
3^6 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1811
It was not safe to go outside the walls of Valladolid
on account of the guerilla troops that were all over
the country. Laura narrowly escaped being taken
by a band of them, who approached in the disguise
of peasants, while she was walking one day in a
garden close to the gates — a favourite resort of hers,
as it had both shade and water.
In the life of perils and privations to which she
had condemned herself, and which she bore with the
utmost courage and cheerfulness, Laura's greatest
pleasures were the frequent letters she received from
France, with the news of her children whom she had
left under the care of a sister of Junot, and also of all
that passed in the political and social world. The
election of Bernadotte to be King of Sweden under
the name of Charles XIII., the marriage of the
Emperor Napoleon with the Archduchess Marie-
Louise, with all the festivities and gossip attending
those events, were of course intensely interesting
to her.
Few cared much about the cold, ungifted, un-
interesting girl who had taken Josephine's place ;
except Buonaparte himself Delighted at the success
of his plans and immensely flattered by the alliance,
he fell violently in love with her after his Oriental
fashion, would allow her to receive no man but
himself and her old music-master, objecting even to
the man who came to wind up the clock, but in all
other respects showing her boundless indulgence.
One of the few sympathetic anecdotes about that
unsympathetic personage is this : —
Berthier, who had been made Prince de Neufchatel,
was sent to Vienna to fetch her. After the ceremony
i8n] AT XAI'OLEOS'S COrRT 327
of marriage by proxy, in which her uncle, the Arch-
duke Charles, stood for Napoleon, the day for her
departure arrived. Berthicr went to her apartments,
according to the usual etiquette, to accompany her
to the carriage. When he entered the room where
she was waiting for him he found her crying bitterly,
and looking round, she explained, amidst tears and
sobs, that it was not only that she had to part from
her own family, but even to leave behind her the
pets and favourite possessions of her girlhood — the
drawings done by her sisters and uncle, the tapestr)-
worked by her mother, the carpet given her by some-
body else, her birds, her parrot, and worst of all her
little dog, who, shut up in another room, was barking
loudl)-. Her father would not allow her to take
them, as Buonaparte disliked Josephine's pet dogs.
Such a beginning of her married life certainly did
not seem encouraging, and Berthier, telling the young
Empress that the journey was put off for two hours,
retired, and after an interview with her father, the
Emperor Francis II., returned to escort her on her
way. Her progress through France was a succession
of festivities and rejoicings. The Emperor met her
at Compiegne, the first days of her married life were
passed at St. Cloud and then at Paris, where, Napoleon
taking her by the hand, led her on to a balcony of
the Tuileries and presented her to the people, while
a thousand voices shouted, " Vive f Enipereur I Vive
rimp&atrice ! " When they re-entered the room.
Napoleon, telling her that he must pay her for the
happiness she had given him, led her through a long,
dark passage to a door, on the other side of which
a dog was heard scratching. On opening it, the
328 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1811
Empress beheld her faithful dog, her parrot and other
birds, and perceived that the room was furnished
with all the familiar possessions she had left in
Vienna — pictures, tapestr}', armchairs, and everything
else. She threw herself into the Emperor's arms to
thank him and the crowd, seeing this through the
window, redoubled their cheers.
One day, after the courier from Paris had come in,
Laura, noticing that Junot looked disturbed, asked
what was the matter.
" We have a General Commander-in-chief of the
army of Portugal," he replied, with a constrained
smile. " The Emperor does not think Ney or I are
capable of leading our troops "
" I hope it is not Davoust or Bessieres ! " said Laura.
" No," replied Junot, " I can't complain of the
choice that has been made. It is Massena. He is
our senior. I only hope to God that Ney will get on
with him as well as I shall."
Much as Junot disliked being under the orders of
another in the country where he had been almost
like a king, there was nothing to be done but to obey
the commands of the Emperor, and he went to receive
Massena, now Prince d'Essling, with due respect.
" Monsieur le Marechal," he said, " my wife will be
charmed to do the honours of the palace of Charles V.,
where we hope you will be comfortable."
"What! Madame Junot is at Valladolid ! " ex-
claimed Massena in evident perturbation.
" Certainly."
" But in that case," said Massena, after an instant's
reflection, " it will be iuipossihle for me to live in the
palace — ccla ?ic se pent pasT
i8ii] AT NAPOLEOX'S COURT 329
" If you are afraid of not ha\ing room enough,"
replied Junot in a tone of pique, "it is for my wife
and me to give place to )'ou. Are you not our
chief? "
" A/on Dieu ! it is not that ! " cried Masscna, " it is
not that at all — it is because "
There was, in fact, in the calcche of Masscna a
young woman by whom, in spite of his age, he was
accompanied, much to the derision of the other
officers, one of whom, General Heble, offered mingled
complaints and apologies to Laura.
" Mais que voulez-voiis ? have not we all tried our
utmost to prevent him, at his age, causing such a
scandal? Nothing will persuade him ! Oh! I could
tell you the most extraordinary things about him ! "
Massena was, after Soult, one of the greatest of
Napoleon's generals, but his courage and military
talents were counterbalanced by the rapacity he
sought to conceal under an apparent simplicity of
manner, and the open immorality which even amongst
his comrades was considered scandalous and
ridiculous, especially as one of the young officers
who witnessed it was his own son.
Matters were arranged somehow, and Massena took
up his abode in the palace, where he lived on very
friendly terms with Junot and Laura. Often in the
morning he would come in and sit with them, pouring
out his complaints of the various persons who dis-
pleased him, but especially of Ney, whose vain,
boastful nature rendered him furious at being placed
under the orders of any one.
One day Masscna brought a letter he had just
received from the Emperor, wTitten with his own
330 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1811
hand in those flattering terms which Napoleon knew
so well how to use, and which were almost irresistible
to his followers.
" But how do you suppose," grumbled Massena,
" that I can do any good work with a man like that
Michel Nay, who treats me as if I were in my dotage
and does not even listen when I speak to him ? I
tell you, Junot, that I have been on the point of
giving him a blow in the face, and then, of course,
offering him reparation with my sword — for the
sword of the old soldier of Genoa is still sharp." ^
In fact, much of the disaster which overtook the
French army in the Peninsula may be attributed to
the miserable jealousies and quarrels between the
generals.
" You will see," exclaimed Massena to Junot
another time, " that that boaster will make all our
operations fail by his obstinacy and idiotic vanity."
Massena was very fond of Laura, and would often
come to her rooms to sit and talk with her while she
worked at the layette she was obliged to prepare, for
she was again enceinte.
The old general took the greatest interest in the
letters she received about her children, especially
those written by Josephine, her eldest daughter,
whom he proposed to betroth to his eldest son.
Junot and Laura consented to this plan, but the
marriage nev^er took place, owing to the death of the
ficxncc.
A violent quarrel soon took place between Mas-
sena and Ney, who wrote the former a letter of
defiance from Salamanca, saying, among other
' Massena was Italian, being a native of Nice.
i8iij
.-J 7- XAPOLEOS'S COURT
things : " I am a Duke and Marshal of the Empire
as well as }ou. Vou say you are Commander of
the army of Portugal — I know it too well. There-
SOILT.
(Rouillard.1
fore when you order Michel Xey to lead his troops
against the enem\-, you will see how he will obey
you. But when it pleases you to upset the ctat-
332 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1811
major of the army ... I shall no more attend to
your orders than I fear your threats."
" You see it is impossible to do anything with that
fellow ! " cried Massena as he walked up and down
Laura's salon in a towering rage. The engineer
officer whom he had twice sent to Ney with orders
that he should conduct the siege of Ciudad-Rodrigo
had twice been sent back by that general, and now
declined to go again. " Am I Commander-in-chief
en peinture ? " he cried. " I say that this young
man shall direct the siege, and, b\' the great devil in
hell, Monsieur Ney shall bend his knee to my will, or
my name is not Massena." And he prepared to go
himself to Ciudad-Rodrigo to enforce his orders,
taking the officer in question with him.
Junot and his wife also went to Salamanca, where
he too became involved in a dispute with Massena,
which, however, Laura succeeded in calming before
both of them set out with the troops for Ciudad-
Rodrigo, which the English under Wellington were
coming up to succour.
Laura was left at Salamanca in no very pleasant
position. The French were, of course, loathed by
the inhabitants, who, after the departure of Massena
and his troops, thronged the churches to pray for
their defeat and the victory of the English. Some-
times a peal of bells was heard, and on Laura's
asking her landlady the reason, the Spaniard
answered, with a flash of hatred in her eyes —
" For Ciudad-Rodrigo, sehora, for Ciudad-Rodrigo!
and for the English ! "
After Junot had left, Laura wished to move from
her lodgings near the gate of the city to a very
i8u] AT S'APOLEOXS COURT 333
pretty little house belonging to the Marquis de la
Scala. On her asking whether he would let it to her,
he replied that he should have pleasure in doing so
if she would give him time to put some furniture
into it, as nearly the whole of his had been stolen by
a French general. Laura found on inquiring that
the general in question had carried off a great deal of
it to the siege of Ciudad-Rodrigo, including mat-
tresses and all the kitchen apparatus, and had sent
the rest in K\s foin-gons to France ! One day Laura
was playing with the daughter of her landlady, a
child of three years old, of whom she was very fond,
when a chain round the baby's neck caught on some-
thing and jerked out a knife that was attached
to it.
" Don't take it ! " cried the child ; " it is to kill a
Frenchman with ! "
About eleven o'clock one evening, as she was
sitting with five or si.x other people, suddenly in a
pause of the conversation Laura heard a feeble cry.
She sent her valet-de-cJianibre to know what it was
and he returned saying he could see nothing.
Presently the cries recommenced, and Laura, calling
for a light to be brought, and accompanied by the
officers who were present, went into the court^-ard
and, guided by the cries, found on the cushions of
her caleche a baby of about a week old, carefully
dressed, with a note containing the following words :
" A mother in despair confides to your Excellency
what is most precious to her — her child — her
daughter, who ought to be the support and consola-
tion of her old age. It is known in Salamanca that
your Excellency loves to do good and that you are
334 '4 LEADER OF SOCIETY [1811
about to become a mother. I dare to hope that you
will adopt my poor child, and not abandon her. May
her father feel the shame of the step he forces me to
take."
This was in Spanish and well written, probably by
some Spanish girl seduced and deserted by a French-
man. Laura and her maid passed most of the night
in feeding and looking after the child, and in the
morning she sent for a French cuiigrc priest, who
was now almost a naturalised Spaniard, to baptize it,
giving it the names of Laura Juana Marie. She
bought it everything necessary, and gave a sum of
money to the corregidor to be paid for its main-
tenance until it was three years old, when it was to
be sent to her in France.
" You see," she observed, " that we French are not
so bad. I am saving the life of your countrywoman's
child, which she deserted."
The corregidor looked at her with a glance of
hostility,
" You may well save the life of one Spaniard when
your husband kills so many," was his answer.
A few days afterwards she received the following
letter from her husband : —
" I have received your letter, dear Laura, and you
may be sure that I recognised mon ainie in her good
deed to the poor little orphan. ... I send you letters
from France. I think there are some with news of
our children ; write to me what they arc doing.
Here we have great heat, a great deal of firing, and
very little to eat. Vegetables, above all, are
scarce, which is very disagreeable. I can swallow as
i8ii] AT XAF'OLEOX'S COURT 335
much dust as I like, and two sunstrokes have scorched
my ears and face. I hope I shall be a little less ugly
when I see you again, but colour does not matter.
They say Notre Dame de Laurette was as black as
the devil, but she inspired many passions. My
Laura is dark, but she is as pretty as the prettiest
blondes.
"The walls of Ciudad-Rodrigo are falling bien
doucevtcnt. We have enemies who disquiet us bien
douccment. When we attack we do it bien doucement.
Our soldiers, par exemple, do not sleep bien douce-
ment ; as to the provisions, they arrive bien
doncevient. I wish the ordonnateur (M. Michaudj
did not arrive so doucement. When we dispute it is
not always bien doucement. It would be all the
same to me, my Laura, if I could be bien doucement
with you, and after the fatigues of the day could
rest bien doucement by your side. Adieu, my Laura;
I embrace you a thousand times, and am going to
the advanced posts to see the faces of the English
nearer.
" Ton ami^' &c."
Ciudad-Rodrigo fell shortly afterwards, and Junot
sent a hurried letter to Laura to be ready, as he
would call for her at Salamanca ; they were going on
to Ledesma, which she heard with regret, as she
found much to interest her at Salamanca besides
being tolerably comfortable there, whereas Ledesma
was an Arabic town perched on a sugarloaf-shaped
rock surrounded by a burning, arid plain.
Before they left Salamanca, Laura had a narrow
' The letter is, of course, in the second person singular.
33^1 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1811
escape from being taken by the guerilla chief, Don
Julian, who gave more trouble to the French than
any one in the Spanish army. He had set his heart
on taking Laura prisoner ; and, having been warned
of this, she discontinued her drives into the country,
only going into an avenue just outside the gate of
Zamora which led up a little hill so near the walls of
the town that it was considered perfectly safe. One
hot July evening Laura, whose health was, of
course, now delicate, feeling unusually tired, went
home early, while M. Magnien, who had been driving
with her, walked on slowly to the top of the hill in
question, from which he saw a man of suspicious
appearance, with a red feather in his hat, mounted
upon a mule, appear on the summit of a hill opposite.
Presently another appeared, then a third, and when
they numbered five M. Magnien turned and ran
towards the town, pursued by the guerillas up to the
gate, where, breathless and exhausted, he threw him-
self into the arms of the official who came out at
that moment. Don Julian had been told the hour of
Laura's drive, and made preparations accordingly,
which were only frustrated by her going home
early.
After being two months at Ledesma, Laura
accompanied her husband to San- Felices-el-Grande,
a much worse place of abode. At Ledesma she had
lodged in the best house the place afforded, which
she declared not to be nearly so good as a gardener's
cottage in b>ance ; but it was a palace compared to
her lodging at San-Felices-el-Grande.
The place was a miserable, ruined village among
barren mountains many leagues from a town ; the
i8ii] AT MAPOLEOS'S COURT 337
house she occupied was a damp, dark hole, in which
she lay upon a bed of sickness in a room lighted only
by a small window high up in the wall, and with a
floor of beaten earth, on which was arranged the
portable furniture she had in the fourgon, which
alone made it habitable.
They had at first hoped that she would be able
to get to Madrid if she could not return to l^Vance for
her confinement. But the escort which would have
been sufficient for her safety could not now be spared
from Junot's corps (fari)u'e, so that her only hope was
that she might reach Lisbon, or even Coimbra, in
time. The soldiers were dying of dysentery and
nostalgia in alarming numbers. Junot and Xey,
with whom he had an interview, both took a gloomy
view of the present and future prospects of the war,
and Laura grew worse and worse. Often when she
awoke in the night from a feverish, troubled sleep
she saw her husband standing by her bed crying or
looking at her with mournful eyes.
" And I cannot get you out of this desert ! " he
would exclaim, kissing her hands and shedding tears
of despair. " There is no possibility — none ! I
would rather send in my resignation and go with
you myself than trust you to a miserable escort
which would be defeated by the first band of
guerillas posted in the woods of Matilla to lie in
wait for you. But I cannot ! A cannot without dis-
honour ! for the guns will be at work again directly,
and I cannot turn my back on the enemy."
The French were now besieging Almeida, which
was the first fortress over the Portuguese border as
Ciudad-Rodrigo was the last on the Spanish side.
23
338 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1811
Wellington was drawing on the army of Massena
into a country deserted and devastated by its
inhabitants.
One evening after sunset there was a loud
explosion, and the house shook violentl}-. " What is
it ? " cried Laura in terror. " Is it an earthquake ?
Another danger in this dreadful country."
There was another detonation, and again the
house rocked.
" It is the fortress ! " was the general cry ; and
Junot with the rest rushed out to a ruined tower at
the end of the village, on a rising ground. Presently
he returned.
" Almeida is on fire ! " he said ; " it is a splendid
sight ! You must see it, Laura ; they shall carry you."
Laura was accordingly carried up into the tower,
from whence she looked out towards the beleaguered
town.
The autumn wind howled among the mountains, the
sky overhead was dark, but the horizon was a lurid
mass of fire and from time to time sheets of flame shot
up and despairing cries seemed to be borne upon the
gale.
Almeida had been blown up — it appeared accident-
ally. A gunner leaving his post having fired his last
shot at random towards the town, it fell into the open
door of the arsenal of the chateau before which a
hundred workmen were making cartridges. Besides
this forty families were blown into the air, as the
townspeople had crowded there for refuge. With the
explosion the walls seemed to open, and the French
troops poured in through the breaches.
Guns and mutilated bodies were flung out to an
i8ii] AT X A PO LEON'S COURT 339
incredible distance, and when, the next day, Junot
returned from visiting the scene of the catastrophe he
was pale with horror at the frightful spectacle he had
witnessed.
Meantime Laura's position, already terrible enough,
became still more alarming as the day drew near on
which her husband would be obliged to leave her.
Junot was nearly out of his mind at the idea of
leaving his wife on the eve of her confinement alone,
with an insufficient guard, and without the necessaries
of life, in a hostile country. Massena also declared it
was out of the question. "Let us take the Duchess
with us," he said.
"It's impossible," replied Junot. "She will be
confined in six weeks, and she is almost dying now."
" Well, then we must send her to Salamanca ; that is
the nearest and best place."
" No, no," said Junot gloomily, " I won't leave m\-
wife at Salamanca ; the town is not safe from a sur-
prise. If she went there, Don Julian would be there
too in three days."
" The devil ! you are right, my poor Junot. But
what are we to do ? "
" It is horrible," said Junot at last, " but there is
only one place where I can leave my wife without
dying of anxiet}', and that is Ciudad-Rodrigo."
" Ciudad-Rodrigo ! "
" Yes ! Ciudad-Rodrigo. Behind its ramparts at
least she would be safe from Don Julian, and I should
find her again and m}' child."
" But think, there is not a house in Ciudad-Rodrigo
with a whole roof; the town is full of holes and ruins,
and almost without inhabitants."
340 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1811
" Solitude is better than the society of the guerillas.
The Duchess shall go to Ciudad-Rodrigo, only I
will ask of you as a favour to let her have one hundred
and fifty men of the battalion of Neufchatel for her
guard, and when she can join us they will be her
escort."
Massena agreed, and two days afterwards the 8th
Army Corps, with Junot in command, began its march
into Portugal, and Laura, after a heart-breaking parting
with her husband, set out with her escort for Ciudad-
Rodrigo. One great consolation she had — the Baron
Thomieres, who had been aide-de-camp to Lannes
and was now a general of brigade, had brought his
wife with him to Spain. They were quartered three
leagues off, but General Thomieres found it difficult
to take his wife with him, and Laura hearing of her,
implored Junot to persuade Madame Thomieres to
stay with her, which he succeeded in doing, and Laura
found in her a gentle, sympathetic friend, to whom she
soon became deeply attached.
General Cacault was in command at Ciudad-
Rodrigo, but his garrison consisted of sick or
wounded soldiers left behind by Massena, who as
they wandered amongst the ruined streets, looked
more fit to be in hospital than to defend a fortress.
As she entered this gloomy place, situated in the
most dreary and desolate part of the Peninsula, Laura
felt her heart sink. The dark, narrow streets, the
deserted, half-demolished houses, the sickly, melancholy
figures of her countrymen, and the not particularly
friendly reception of General Cacault were not cal-
culated to reassure her.
The General awaited her at the door of the house
i8ii] AT NAPOLEON'S COURT 341
which had been prepared for her reception ; that is to
say, the roof had been made water-tight. It was the
best in the town, and its rather out-of-the-way
position had saved it from destruction. The canon
to whom it belonged had fled with most of the towns-
people.
Laura had a room arranged on the first floor — the
ground floor was so dark as to be impossible — and
made the house as comfortable as could be managed
for herself and Madame Thomiere. For the first
month they received no news whatever of Junot or
the army, and their days passed in dreary monotony
and intense anxiety, aggravated by the conduct of
General Cacault, from whom they received neither
the courtesy of a gentleman nor yet the sympathy and
consideration which would have been shown by a
man with an\- kindness of heart for women in their
terrible position. Regardless of Laura's approaching
confinement, he would enlarge in her presence upon
the dangers which surrounded her, upon the plague
or malignant fever which was expected to break out
on account of the numbers of bodies buried nearly at
the surface of the ground and continually disinterred
b\' the half wild dogs about, and of the perils she ran
from Don Julian, who knew of her presence there and
was resolved on her capture. He complained of the
additional risk to himself and his garrison ; and when,
with a contemptuous look, she retorted that the two
hundred men she had brought were so much more fit
to defend the place than his wretched garrison as to
counterbalance any danger she might bring upon
him, he altered his ground and said that so man\'
additional rnouths made him short of provisions.
342 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1811
Another great anxiety weighed upon Laura — what
was she to do for a nurse for herself and the child
about to be born ? She had recently heard that the
wife of a French officer who was confined during
the absence of the doctor of the regiment had been
obliged to have a Spanish midwife, who had mur-
dered her and her infant. In the midst of her
dilemma she heard with delight that her house-
keeper, Madame Heldt, another maid, and the wet-
nurse who had nursed her last child had arrived
safely at Salamanca and were coming to her.
This nurse was a Burgundian, devotedly attached
to Laura. She had been to inquire after her at her
house in Paris, and on hearing that she was again
enceinte had written begging to be allowed to come
out to her, saying that she would be confined a little
before her and would be ready to take Laura's baby,
only stipulating that her husband should come with
her ; to which Laura joyfully agreed, ordering that
no expense should be spared in making her journey
easy and comfortable.
They arrived about the middle of October, and the
faithful Rose shed tears when she saw the rooms and
the food to which Laura was reduced. Rose gave
birth to a daughter, who only lived a few weeks,
about three weeks before the confinement of her
mistress.
News arrived after a time of the defeat of the
French at Busaco, to which, when he announced
it. General Cacault added that Masscna's army was
reported to be destroyed ; but when Laura uttered
a cry of horror he assured her that the corps (Varniee
of the Due d'Abrantes had not been engaged.
i8ii] AT NAPOLEON'S COURT 343
At last Laura was told that a ragged Portuguese
wanted to speak to her, who on being admitted
gave her a letter from Junot. He had written three
letters and given them to three peasants, promising that
she would give 1,200 rett/s for each that arrived safely.
Delighted with her letter, Laura was as gay and
happy as a child for a da\-. Then it occurred to
her that this letter was a month old and that many
calamities might have happened since it was written.
Also that it was two months since she had heard
from her children. Her fears and sorrows returned,
with sleepless nights, anxious days with nothing to
do but write and work at the clothes for the child
so soon to be born, and a growing presentiment that
it would not live or that she would not live or that
she would not survive its birth amid so many perils
and privations. For it was almost impossible to get
food. The French had ravaged and destroyed all
the gardens, so that there were neither fruit nor
vegetables, the meat was almost uneatable, poultry
scarcely ever obtainable, eggs scarce and if pro-
curable costing two francs each — nothing good but
bread. Expecting to be at some civilised place
for her confinement, Laura had foolishly brought
none of the medicines required, and nothing could
be brought into the town because the country was
ov^errun by Don Julian and his bands.
There was another Frenchwoman at Ciudad-
Rodrigo, the wife of an officer, and the three did
their best to console one another.
At last Laura gave birth to a son after great
danger and suffering, during which Madame Tho-
miere nursed her w ith untiring devotion. The child
344 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1811
was born on the 15th of November, and on the 24th
General Cacault sent to say that he was so short
of provisions that he must beg the Duchesse
d'Abrantes and her escort to go on to Salamanca.
Laura would have preferred to wait for three weeks
after her confinement, but under these circumstances
she at once consented to start, and decided to ride,
which she said would be better than being shaken
about on those horrible roads. She set forth accord-
ingly with Madame Thomiere, her child, her suite
and guard, taking with them also a few invalids
who were glad of the escort.
The recent passage of a large body of French
troops had made the road rather safer, but still any
who lagged behind the convoy were sure to be fired
on. Joyfully she left Ciudad-Rodrigo, but the way
lay through the notoriously dangerous forest of
Matilla. As the convoy drew near the woods the
road became so frightfully bad, owing to the roots
and stumps of trees, holes, ruts, and other impedi-
ments, that the carts and light carriages were so
violently shaken as to cause Laura to be seriously
frightened about the safety of her child, especially as
it was getting dark. She herself was on horseback
and could not see where her horse trod, so she beheld
with satisfaction the soldiers strike a light and make
torches of a kind of dry fern which grew all over the
ground they were traversing.
Not so General Coin, a friendly and excellent
man, who had shown Laura much kindness, and
who, indignant at the conduct of General Cacault,
had volunteered to go with her to Salamanca, and
now rode at the head of the convoy.
i8ii] AT XAI'OLEO\"S CO CRT 345
Before he could prevent it the whole convoy from
one end to another was lighted up just as they were
getting into the woods where the guerillas were likely
to be concealed. Suddenly they heard the sound of
horses galloping, there was a cry of " Halt ! " and
in a moment they were surrounded by a troop of
armed men. In the noise and tumult Laura believed
they were lost, when the bVench tongue and the voice
of a friend assured her of their safety.
General Thiebault, then commanding at .Sala-
manca, had been told that the Duchesse d'Abrantes,
with a very insufficient escort, was on her way to
that city from Ciudad-Rodrigo, and had also
received information that Don Julian, at the head
of a formidable troop, intended to attack the
convoy in the woods of Matilla. Therefore he
posted columns of soldiers along the road, and
himself hurried forward to meet and protect her.
The rest of the journey was consequently per-
formed in safety, and on the following day they
arrived at Salamanca. General Thiebault had done
his utmost to find suitable lodgings for the Duchess
and Madame Thomiere, and Laura, after the horrors
of the last few months, was thankful to find herself
back in Salamanca and delighted with the apart-
ments provided for herself and her suite in the
house formerly occupied by Marshal Xey, where
her sa/on soon became the resort of what French
society was to be found in the place. They met
in the evenings and amused themselves with chess,
music, and conversation.
Laura received letters from her children and from
Junot, for whom she waited contentedly in Sala-
346 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [i8ri
matica, although warned that the town was not
entirely safe and it might be necessary to retire
into the fortress, as a great part of the garrison
must be taken to reinforce Massena, consequently
she had better go to Valladolid, where Bessieres
commanded. General Thiebault, who greatly ad-
mired her courage and firmness, remarks in his
Memoirs that this was another proof of those
qualities in the Duchess, for nearly all the
officials were leaving.
In January, i8ii,Junot received a severe wound
in the face. The French army was then at Rio
Mayor, in full retreat before Wellington, from
whom Junot received the following letter : —
" Au Quartikr-Gkneral,
" 2y Janvier, 1811.
"Monsieur, — J'ai appris avec grande peine que
vous avez ete blesse, et je vous prie de me faire
savoir si je puis vous envoyer quelque chose qui
puisse remt'dier a votre blessure ou accclerer votre
rctablissement.
" Je ne sais pas si vous avez eu des nouvelles de
Madame la Duchesse. Elle est accouchce a Ciudad-
Rodrigo et a ete a Salamanque pour aller en France
dans les premiers jours de ce mois.
"J'ai I'honneur d'etre. Monsieur, votre tres-obeis-
sant serviteur,
" Wellington.
'' A Monsieur,
" Monsieur le Due d'Abrantes."
Junot and his wife appreciated the courtesy of this
i8ii] AT NAPOLEON'S COrRT 347
letter and of a message sent by the Duke of Wel-
lington to Don Julian that he was not in the habit
of making war upon women, and was much dis-
pleased that the Duchesse d'Abrantcs should have
suffered any inconvenience or danger from him.
It was not until the end of April that Junot could
return to Salamanca to fetch Laura and his son.
He wished the child to be called Kodrigo, but the
associations with that name were too terrible for
Laura, and she named him Alfred.
They left Salamanca for Toro almost immediately,
accompanied by Madame Thomiere. When Laura
found the inns impossible she often used to ask to
be taken in at some convent in the town, where she
was always received with much hospitality. The
Spanish nuns at that time had much more liberty
than in most countries. They could receive strangers,
and Laura remarks that the\- were only nominally
cloistered, and that in Salamanca and Valladolid she
knew convents from the miiuxdor ' of which signals
had been seen to be given and received.
On one occasion she was lodged at a convent.
Junot remaining at the inn. She had a charming
little room, the floor covered with Indian matting,
a dado of Spanish leather round the walls, mirrors
with silver frames, fine linen, mattresses of silk and
wool, comfortable armchairs, curtained bed, and
other comforts and luxuries.
The nuns came in, two or three at a time, to see
her, and one very pretty young sister, contriving to
speak to her alone, asked her in Spanish after Duroc.
Laura told her that he was married, which seemed
' A galler)- or loggia round the lop of the house.
348 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1811
to interest but not to grieve her. Still it was evident
that there had been some romance between them
while Duroc was in Spain, and Laura afterwards
discovered that the Emperor had made love to the
sister of this little nun.
Toro was, as Laura remarked, one of the most
singular places she had occasion to inhabit during
the whole campaign — a most picturesque old town
in the province of Leon, perched upon a steep,
conical hill like a sugar-loaf, with numbers of con-
vents, but also a more lively, populous appearance
than she expected. Around it stretched a fertile
plain watered by the Douro.
The weather was delicious, and she longed to ride
all over the country, which was out of the question
because of the brigands. But by doubling the guard
on the bridge and posting soldiers in a little wood
or thicket not far off, it was considered to be safe
enough to have a gallop within a certain distance.
Junot had gone away for a day or two when one
morning Laura and Madame Thomiere, having driven
down the steep streets to the bottom of the town,
mounted their horses and crossed the bridge over
the river which flowed at the foot of the mountains.
They were in high spirits and rode carelessly along
talking and laughing without thinking where they
were going until, after a rapid gallop, they pulled
up close to the wood where the piquet was usually
posted.
" How delicious this is ! " exclaimed Madame
Thomiere ; " what a pity we can't enjoy it without
trembling with fear of the brigands!"
Laura started, for she recollected that that morning
i8ii] AT XAi'or.i-:oxs cork'T 349
there was no piquet in the wood. She had forgotten
to give the order.
On hearing this Madame Thomiere said they had
better go back, but Laura, looking longingly at the
blue sk)', the bright river, and the deep, shady wood,
proposed to go on. At that moment one of the
piqueurs who followed them rode up and said in a
low voice, "Will Madame look behind her? "
Out of the wood came a man on horseback, with a
brown vest and a red feather, followed by several
others. There was not a moment to lose ; they
turned and rode as hard as they could, with the
brigands after them. Turning her head, Laura saw
that their pursuers were not gaining upon them, and
the calechc which they had left near the bridge was
crossing it, and coming to meet them. Breathless,
they pushed on till they got to it, the valet-de-pied
was holding the door open. Springing from their
horses, and throwing the reins to the two piqueurs ;
they hurried into the calcche ; the coachman whipped
up his horses and the carriage being light, the horses
fresh, and the riding horses relieved from their
burden, the whole party fled at full speed in the
direction of the bridge, when a crack was heard — the
bar of the carriage had broken. The coachman swore,
and the two friends began to think it was all over
with them, but somehow or other by great exertions
they got to the bridge in time, the guard came out,
and the brigands rode back to the wood.
Masscna had been a failure in Spain, and was
returning to France, being replaced by Marmont,
and now a letter from the Emperor informed Junot
that he was appointed to a command in the north.
35° A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1811
No words could express Laura's delight when he said
to her —
" Laura, we are going back to France."
Throwing her arms round his neck, she cried and
laughed with joy, and the preparations for their
departure were begun at once.
Marmont came to see them before they left, and
looking round at the long oak-panelled salon, out of
which opened a small, dark bedroom, he exclaimed,
" And you live here ! "
" Oh ! this is nothing" cried Laura. " If you had
seen Ciudad-Rodrigo, Ledesma, or San-Felices-el-
Grande "
" And you laugh ! you are merry ! "
" I have not always been so, but we are going back
to France ! "
With a joyful heart Laura set out on her journey
towards France, with her husband, her child, and her
friend, Madame Thomiere. They travelled peace-
fully enough to Valladolid and Burgos, after which
the road became extremely dangerous. The noto-
rious guerilla chief Mina, a man with all the daring
of Don Julian, and without his good qualities, was
the terror of that part of the country, and with his
band had just fallen upon and massacred a convoy of
French wounded, sick, and travellers on their way to
France. This frightful catastrophe had happened in
a narrow pass where the road ran between a deep
river and precipitous rocks, and through which, not
many days after the massacre, it was necessary for
the Due d'Abrantes and his escort to pass. As they
were very numerous, and as Mina had retired with
his booty into the fastnesses of the mountains
i8ii] AT XAPOLEOX'S COCRT 351
Junot thought it a favourable moment for the
journey, but Laura's nerves were shaken by the
horrors she had just heard, and when they entered
the pass, in which the horrible remains of the carnage
were still to be seen all round them, she turned pale
and clasped her child shuddering in her arms, the
faithful Rose growing still more terrified as they pro-
ceeded warily along, Junot on horseback riding now
in front, now behind, now coming up to reassure his
wife, and keeping a sharp look out upon the heights,
which ever since daybreak had been patrolled by his
men. The journey was, however, performed in safety,
and at length, after many alarms, they found them-
selves at the Bidassoa, the boundary of Spain. The
bridge had been set on fire by the Spaniards, but the
flames had been extinguished. In a transport of
delight Laura insisted on walking over it, and again
set her foot upon French ground.
CHAPTER XXI
1811-1812
AT Bayonne they parted from Madame Thomiere,
who went on to Le Mans. As they stopped to
change horses at a posting-house near Poitiers, they
observed a crowd of people and a number of carriages
before the door. A man came towards them, who
, proved to be Joseph, King of Spain, now on his way
back from Paris, where he had been to attend the
christening of his nephew, the King of Rome.
With all his old friendship Joseph Buonaparte got
into the carriage, sat down opposite Laura, and
answered her eager questions.
France was delirious with joy at the birth of the
King of Rome, the Emperor was well, but he was
changed, said Joseph, who seemed melancholy, and
repeated, " You will not find again the Napoleon of
the army of Italy, my poor Junot ! No ! he is no
longer the same."
Before entering Paris they were met by a deputa-
tion of fifteen or twenty of the dames de la Halle
bringing them magnificent bouquets of flowers, and
demanding to see the child " born amongst the
savage Spaniards." Laura showed them the baby,
352
iHii-i8i2] .1 LEADER OF SOCIETY 353
who was in the second carriage with his nurse,
and assured them he should be a good Frenchman,
and in a very short time found herself again in her
own house with her children, after an absence of a
year and a half
They found society in Paris much changed.
Although Josephine had always favoured the fan-
bo/irj^ St. Ceniim'ji, her influence was not sufficiently
powerful to counterbalance all the opposing elements
which in the days of the Consulate and the earlier
years of the Empire were so strong and so numerous.
But the marriage of the Emperor with an Austrian
Archduchess at once gave preponderance to that
party, which openly displayed its contempt for the
new noblesse, without incurring the displeasure of the
Emperor, as would formerl}' have been the case.
The Duke and Duchess d'Abrantes were, on their
return, presented to the Empress, and Laura found
amongst her entourage several of her old friends whom
Napoleon had vainly wished her to give up on the
plea of their enmity to himself Now the Comte de
Narbonne, M. de Mouchy, the Comtesse Juste de
Noailles, and others, were high in his favour, and
on Laura finding herself seated near the Emperor at
a ball given by Queen Hortense, he observed, looking
at M. de Narbonne —
" Well ! are you satisfied ? There is one of your
friends with me."
" And how would it have been for me now, Sire, if
I had obeyed your orders? How should I look now
if I had done as you wished ? for your Majesty
recommended me more than twenty times to shut
my doors on M. de Narbonne, Madame de Noailles,
24
354 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1811-1812
M. de Mouchy, I had the honour to tell you then
that being my friends they could not be your enemies,
and it appears I was right, since you have placed them
near you."
The fete St. Louis was celebrated at Trianon to
please the Empress, who preferred it to all the other
chateaux and palaces. For the first time all the men
wore full court dress, except Marshal Ney, who could
by no means be persuaded to put on anything but
his uniform. But the costume, which was becoming
enough to those who by birth, manners, habits, or
appearance, were fitted to wear it, made some of
those present look so supremely ridiculous that, as
Laura remarked, no caricature could equal their
absurdity.
The new Empress was not one to give trlat or
brilliancy to the court festivities. She had no conver-
sation, and no fascination or charm of manner. Neither
had she the gift of beauty. A faultless complexion
.and pretty fair hair were the attractions which caught
Napoleon's fancy ; her figure, which was of medium
height, was out of proportion, her bust and shoulders
being much too large for the rest of her body. Thus
describing her, Laura adds that she had the glance of
a Kalmuck and the mouth of an Austrian. But the
Emperor was satisfied. She brought him a great
alliance and the heir he had longed for, and she sub-
mitted obediently or apathetically to his most un-
reasonable commands as long as his power and
prosperity lasted. When his fortunes changed she
deserted him without an effort or a moment's hesita-
tion, and transferred the passive submission that so
highly pleased him to the Emperor, her father.
i8ii-i8i2]
AT XAPOLEOX'S COURT
Meanwhile, in spite of the disasters in the Peninsula,
fortune still smiled upon Napoleon. The birth of
his son had redoubled his pojuilarit}' ; the waitint,^
multitude, listenini^ breathlessly for that twenty-
second gun, which would proclaim the fulfilment of
1. KM'UlK DK LA POSTKRITK."
(The Emptror Napoleon, Knipress Marie-Louise, and King of Rome.) (Roelin.)
their hearts' desire ; the roar of triumph and delight
which mingled with its thunder when it came had
drawn tears from the Emperor, hidden behind a
curtain in the Tuileries watching and listening.
Marie-Louise was a cold, indifferent mother ; but
356 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1811-1812
Napoleon adored his son, the one being he really
loved devotedly. He would hold him in his arms
for hours, and never tired of caressing and playing
with him, though his manner of doing so was no
more elegant than other ways in which he showed
his affection or familiarity, one of his favourite
tricks, besides pulling the child's ears and nose in
his habitual fashion, being to smear his face with
wine, gravy, or sauce.
Notwithstanding his countless liaisons, Napoleon
had only two recognised illegitimate children, both
sons. The mother of one was the young lectrice of his
sister, Caroline Murat. Of her he very soon got
tired, and was very angry when she came with her
mother to Fontainebleau, and had herself announced
in his apartments without his leave. He was, how-
ever, very fond of his son, and settled 30,000
francs a year upon him. This was one of the
liaisons encouraged by his family in order to annoy
Josephine.
But whenever the Emperor discovered or suspected
any such plots he was exceedingly irritated, and on
one occasion, it having come to his knowledge that
certain persons were intriguing to make a young
Irish girl, employed as lectrice by Josephine, become
his mistress, he ordered her to be immediately sent
back to her family.
But with all the intrigues which were perfectly
well known to his court and all his surroundings,
Napoleon did not hesitate to assert that the worst
quality a king could possess and the worst example
he could set was that of immorality !
The strange hypocrisy of Buonaparte in such
i8ri-i8i2] AT X'APOLEOXS COURT 357
matters was exemplified a little later on in the
following manner. General Dupont Derval having
been killed during the Russian campaign, his widow-
applied for a pension. The Emperor, however, dis-
covering that the General had been divorced from
his first wife, who was living and had one daughter —
the present wife being an officer's widow with two
daughters by her first husband — changed the destina-
tion of the brevet to the first wife, who was very well
off, and did not require it. The other, being poor
and thinking it must be a mistake, appealed to the
Emperor, who replied, " I promised the pension and
shall give it to the wife of General Dupont, that is, his
real wife, the mother of his daughter," thus em-
phasing the respect he pretended to entertain for the
marriage tie and his disapproval of divorce. At that
very time he had already divorced his own wife, forced
Jerome to desert his, and exiled Lucien because he
refused to do the same.
A review of a recent life of Buonaparte speaks of
Napoleon as " a cad," and in no way did this side of
his character appear more distinctly than in the cynical
materialism of his love intrigues. In their vices even
more than in their virtues stands out sharply and
strongly the difference between the kings and princes
of Valois and Bourbon and the Corsican adventurer
who sat upon their throne.
The courtly, magnificent gallantry of Francois I.,
the chivalrous, faithful, though lawless love of Henri
II. and Diane de Poitiers, the romantic passion of
Henri IV. and Lcz belle Gabrielle, and the stately
splendour of the licentious court and loves of
Louis XIV\ contrasted indeed with the coarse,
358 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1811-1812
brutal heartlessness which characterised the intrigues
of Buonaparte.
To one only, to the woman who has been called
the La Valliere of the Empire, can the slightest
vestige of romance or sentiment be attached, and
her disinterested love was worthy of a better object.
She was a Pole, married by her family to a man old
enough to be her grandfather, and she herself only
two-and-twenty, when, at a great ball given to him
by the Polish nobles in a palace at Warsaw, she first
met Napoleon.
Struck with admiration of her fair, melancholy
beauty, the Emperor fell in love with her at once,
and the next morning sent one of his chief officers
to her with a letter containing proposals to which,
indignant at this kind of love-making, she sent a
peremptory refusal.
Napoleon, much taken aback, wrote her letter after
letter, to which for some time he received no answer,
but at length prevailed upon her to consent to an
interview in his palace between ten and eleven one
night. He sent the same personage with a carriage
to fetch her from the place agreed upon, and waited,
walking impatiently up and down the room until she
arrived, pale, trembling, and tearful.
This was in January, 1807, and the first interview
was followed by many others, which continued until
the Emperor left Warsaw. Two months after his
departure he sent for her to Finkenstein, and leaving
her old husband, who refused ever to see her again,
she took possession of an apartment prepared for her
by the Emperor near his own. He was charmed with
her, and spent all the time he could in her society,
i8ii-i8i2] AT XAPOf.EOys COCRT 351;
cliiiint:^ and breakfasting alone with her. Of a inehui-
choly, romantic, passionate temperament, she was
entirely devoted to him, cared nothing for societ}',
but passed her time in reading when he was not
with her.
In 1809, after the battle of Wagram, he took a
house for her in a faubourg of Vienna, and when
the campaign was over he arranged that she should
come to Paris, escorted by her brother. He took a
charming house for her in the ("haussce d'Antin,
where she continued to lead a retired, studious life,
seeing few people and caring only for the iMiipenjr.
There her son was born and brought up in secret,
being only taken b)- a private door into the pctits
appartoucnts of the Tuileries to see his father, who
was extremely fond of him, and created him Count
Walewski. His mother gave the Emperor a ring
with this inscription, " Quand tu cesscras de ni aimer,
n'oublies pas qnc je faitnc" She took her son to see
Napoleon at Elba, where his extraordinar\- likeness
to his father gave rise to a report that the King of
Rome had arrived.
The Duke and Duchess d'Abrantcs did not long
remain with their children in Paris after their return
from the hardships and dangers of their Spanish
campaign. All over Europe the oUtlook was most
threatening, h^rom the Peninsula the accounts were
chequered, the victories of Suchet in one part being
counterbalanced by those of Wellington in another.
In the north things looked worse still. Russia was
growing more and more hostile, and Sweden had
become her ally ; for Bernadotte was not inclined to
be the puppet of Napoleon. Louis Buonaparte had
36o A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1811-1812
resigned the crown of Holland rather than submit
to the tyranny of his brother.
When Junot had been restored to tolerable health
by a course of the baths of Bareges, he entreated the
Emperor to give him an appointment, and was sent
to Milan to take command of the troops in Italy, and
to bring them north, for war with Russia was now
about to begin. The Emperor left for Germany,
where the army was assembling for the invasion of
Russia, the Empress accompanying him as far as
Dresden.
Paris at that time presented a singular and
melancholy spectacle. In all ranks of society there
was an enormous preponderance of women, whose
husbands, fathers, sons, and brothers were with the
army.
Most of Laura's friends were going either to some
watering-place, to Italy, to Switzerland, or to their
country places, and she, finding herself attacked by
the same illness from which she had suffered before,
resolved to go to Aix-les-Bains, leaving her little girls
with their nurse and governess in the Abbaye-aux-
Bois, her baby under the care of a friend, and taking
her eldest boy, then three years old, with her. She
was also accompanied by her brother-in-law, M. de
Geouffre, and her friend, Madame Lallemand. They
left Paris on the 12th of June, 1812, having taken the
precaution of securing their rooms beforehand, which
was fortunate, as the place was so crowded that it was
almost impossible to fintl lodgings. Those of the
Queen of Spain, which were opposite Laura's, were
not nearly so good, and the latter, who had agreed
with about twenty friends to meet there, now com-
i8ii-i8i2] AT XAPOLEON'S COURT 361
plained that the enjoyment and freedom of the place
was spoilt by its being so overrun with queens and
princesses, past, present, and future, that it was im-
possible to go an\ where without meeting them. The
Emjjress Josephine, the Queen of Spain, the future
Queen of Sweden, the Princess Borghese, and
Madame Mere were all there, besides Talma and
other celebrities. Josephine had lost none of the
charm of manner and perfection of taste for which
she had always been so celebrated. Laura observed
that the best proof of her superiority in the art of
dress was the contrast presented by Marie-Louise,
who employed the same dressmakers, had an
enormous allowance, and \'et never looked well
dressed.
On the morning of the loth of August the Princess
Borghese ordered an immense bouquet to send Laura
in honour o(her/i'ie. This she gave to her little son
Napoleon, who was very pretty and a great favourite
of hers.
" Take it to your mother," she said, " and tell her
that it is from the oldest friend she has at Aix ; and
tell her to look at the cord which ties it."
The cord was a chain of pearls and rubies.
A number of Laura's friends had invited her to a
fi'/e organised in her honour at Bonport, where they
were to dine, and to which they were to go in boats
up Lake Bourgct.
Every one who has seen Aix-les-Bains knows how
enchanting is the scener\' of that most lovely countr)-,
the splendour of the mountains, the beautiful lakes of
Bourget and Annecy, the rich vegetation, the glowing
colour.
362 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1811-1812
The part}- consisted of twenty-three people, and a
boat followed with a band of musicians. It was fine
weather when they started, but, as often happens
in those mountain lakes, a sudden storm came on
which terrified many of the guests. Not Laura ; she
was deeply interested in listening to Talma, who,
holding by the slender mast, recited the first act in
" The Tempest," his voice at times almost drowned
by the noise around him. They arrived in safety,
dried their clothes by a fire, dined, and then, the
storm having cleared away, rambled about the
ancient Chateau of Bonport and Abbey of Haute-
Combe, gathering the wild flowers which grew in
profusion, watching the moon rise, and enjoying the
freedom from that court etiquette which, greatly to
their vexation, had pursued and annoyed them in
their summer wanderings. The /r^i' ended with a
magnificent display of fireworks on the lake, after
which they re-entered the boats and returned to Aix,
where the next day Laura received a mild reprimand
from Madame Mere for allowing fireworks in her own
honour when the Imperial family were in the place.
Next the Princess Borghese gave a /i^e of the
same kind on Lake Bourget, and a few days
afterwards Laura and some of her friends drove to
Geneva to be present at the/"iV.r' dti lac, and several
water-parties given b}- different people upon the
far-famed Lake Leman.
Laura met many acquaintances there and amused
herself immensely, though she was considerably
bored by a great dinner which the Mayor gave in
her honour.
One evening a ball, was given by a Monsieur
i8ii-i8r2] AT NAPOLEON'S COURT 363
Saladin at his coiintn- house. Laura was still
extremely fond of dancing, but on this occasion
she felt a strange presentiment of evil, which so
weighed upon her spirits that she could not dance
but went outside the ball-room and walked up and
down in the garden which went down to the lake.
Presently she saw groups of people standing about
on the terrace talking anxiousl}^ to each other, and
as she approached she caught the words, " Spain " —
"King Joseph" — " Marmont." There were pale
faces, looks of consternation, and eager questions
when the disastrous news became known.
There had been a great battle close to Salamanca.
Marmont had been defeated b\- Wellington ; the
French had lost the whole of their artillery, 5,000
prisoners, and 8,000 killed and wounded, amongst
the latter being Marmont himself There was an
end to all festivities — Madame Marmont, who was
at the ball, started for Spain, and Laura returned for
the rest of September to Aix.
But the general uneasiness that began to be felt
increased day by day, and put an end to the gay,
careless amusements of that light-hearted society.
From the north as well as the south came mis-
givings and evil rumours. The news intended for
the public might be excellent, but private letters
told a different story, and Laura had too many
Russian friends not to possess sufficient sources
of information to fill her mind with the gravest
an.xiety before the end of September saw her on
her journey back to Paris.
She sta)-ed at Lyon for a da\' or two to see
Madame Recamier (who lived there in melancholy
364 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1811-1812
exile, from which the fall of her oppressor was before
long to deliver her), and arrived in Paris early
in October. That and the next months were full
of uneasiness and alarms. Letters became scarcer
and scarcer. After receiving one from Junot on
the 29th of October, filled with affectionate inquiries
and remarks about herself and his children, Laura
heard no more for two months, during which she
and every one else were a prey to the most dreadful
forebodings. In his fanatical infatuation for the
Emperor, Junot had persuaded him, through Laura's
intercession, to have his infant son. Napoleon,
enrolled among the Polish lancers of the Imperial
Guard ; and she had now caused a miniature of
the child in that uniform to be painted and sent
to his father in Russia.
The conspiracy of Malet, though it was promptly
defeated and punished, disclosed serious internal
perils, and it was evident that the nation, hitherto
flattered and delighted by the victories and conquests
which for more than fifteen years had attended its
arms, was now becoming weary of the ceaseless
warfare and horrible slaughter which many began
to think too dear a price to pay either for glory
or plunder.
Many of the best generals and officers of
Buonaparte had been killed, and even amongst those
who remained a large number shared the opinions
of the soldiers and the people, and asked discon-
tentedly what was the use of having riches and
honours which they were allowed no time to enjoy,
children who were torn from them to perish in the
deserts of Spain or the snows of Russia, homes in
i8ii-j8i2] at NAPOl.EOXS CO CRT 365
which they were strangers, or to which the}' only
returned crippled or invalided.
The despatches published could not be depended
upon. Unable now, as always, from the days of
the Hundred Years' War, till their last conflict with
Germany, to bear a reverse with dignity and fortitude,
the French adoj:)ted their invariable practice of
publishing false successes to conceal their defeats,
in the hope of pleasing the populace, who were all
the more angry when they discovered the real
truth.
l^ut private letters brought the news of the
burning of Moscow by the Russians and the retreat
of the French army, filling Paris with consternation.
Furious at being baulked of his prey, Buonparte
ordered the Kremlin to be blown up, a piece of
useless spite worthy of a barbarian, and blamed even
by his own fanatical supporters. The first courier
bringing full news of the French disasters arrived
on the 1 8th of December, and on the morning of the
20th the guns of the Invalides announced that the
Fmperor had returned.
Many, both then and afterwards, have expressed
the deepest indignation at the whole conduct of
liuonaparte during this crisis. His desertion of
the unfortunate arm\', which he left to its fate while
he pursued his own journey in safet\', and the
bulletin he issued, announcing that " his health had
never been better," while to satisfy his vainglorious
ambition thousands lay dead or dying upon the
snows of Russia, seemed scarcely calculated to
arouse the admiration of any one not blindly in-
fatuated b\- him ; while, on the other hand, his
366 .4 LEADER OF SOCIETY [1811-1812
partisans maintained that his death would have been
an irreparable loss to the army and the country,
both of which would be much more benefited by
his returning to Paris than by his remaining in Russia.
Accompanied by the Duke of Vicenza, he travelled
day and night for a fortnight, narrowly escaping
being captured by the Cossacks before reaching
Wilna, changing from a sledge to a carriage at
Erfurth and driving up to the gate of the Tuileries
after the Empress had retired to bed. In the
morning the news that the Emperor had returned
spread through Paris.
Desperately anxious for news of Junot, but too
ill to go herself, Laura sent her brother to the
Tuileries, but he returned saying that it was im-
possible to get near the Emperor owing to the
immense crowds who were pressing round him for
tidings of those dear to them who were with the
army.
Laura, however, hoped that as the Emperor had
arrived his generals would soon follow, and Junot
amongst them. But having waited a day or two
and heard nothing she wrote to the Emperor, who
sent Duroc the next morning to say that she might
be perfectly reassured, for Junot was quite well.
" I know it is not so," said Laura, looking at him
steadily ; " and you know it too, my clear Duke."
Duroc looked down and said nothing.
" Duroc," continued Laura, taking his hand, " I
am very ill, perhaps I shall never see those trees
green again," and she pointed out into her garden.
" Tell me the truth ; what has happened between
Junot and the limperor?"
i8ii-i8i2] AT X A f'O LEON'S COURT 367
" Nothing new," replied Duroc, who supposed that
she was acquainted with what her friends had
carefully concealed from her, and Junot, in his
melancholy, despairing letters had not explained,
namely, the two unfortunate bulletins in which
Napoleon spoke with disapprobation of Junot : in one
saying that he lost his way and made a false move-
ment, in the other that he did not act with sufficient
firmness.
The misrepresentations of Murat were partly the
cause of this injustice ; for in one case Junot had
not received his orders, owing to the delay caused
by the state of the roads ; and in the other the
dilatoriness and unpunctualit)' of one of his generals
were in fault.
Junot wrote a letter of explanation to the lunperor,
who, after reading it attentively, remarked ; " It is
very unlucky, yj;/' ///f bulletitis arc made ! ! "
The state of gloomy despair and misery into
which Junot was plunged gave Laura serious
apprehensions, only too fully justified as time
went on.
The day after her interview with Duroc she
received a letter from her husband, begging her to
see the Emperor and obtain leave for him to come to
Paris as he was suffering dreadfully from his old
wounds, which had always troubled him. He was also
much alarmed about her health, and most anxious to
see her, repeating always that she and his children
were now all he cared for in the world.
" My dear Laura," he wrote in one letter, " it is
four o'clock in the morning ; I cannot sleep, I am
thinking of you and have got up to write to you.
368 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1811-1812
What a year you have spent, my dear angel ! May
this one begin better and . go on better still ! May
I be able to come and take care of you, and that
consolation at least lessen the sufferings so increased
by my absence, and your anxiety for him who loves
you so much. ... If I do not get leave it will be
impossible for me to get well enough to be fit for
another campaign. Can the Emperor refuse to let
me come and see my Laura in the state she is
now in, when I know my presence would be a
comfort to her. This climate increases my pains,
and yesterday I could not walk home, they were
obliged to fret me a carriage. . . ."
CHAPTER XXII
1812-1813
BESIDES her own shattered health and her great
anxiety for her husband, Laura had another
source of trouble regarding her brother, who, by
the false accusations and machinations of Savary,
Due de Rovigo, always an enemy of Junot, Laura,
and all her family, had been forced to resign his
post at Marseille.
Alarmed by the increasing melancholy of Junot's
letters, aware (although not knowing the full
extent) of the harshness and injustice with which
the Emperor had now treated him, and understanding
the circumstances of the intrigue to ruin her brother,
she resolved to make an effort to help them both,
and wrote to Duroc to procure her an audience of
the Emperor, saying that it must be in the evening,
as she could not now get up until six or seven
o'clock.
The Emperor appointed nine o'clock on the
following day. When the Duchesse d'Abrantes
was announced he started in astonishment at her
altered looks, exclaiming —
"■ Mon Dieu I Madame Junot, what is the matter
2t }fH
370 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1812-1813
with you ? You are very ill ! It is true! I see well
enough that it is not manieres de vapenrsT
And he explained that he had been told she was
pretending to be ill so that she might have an excuse
for discontinuing her attendance on Madame Mere.
Laura raised her eyes, burning with fever, held out
the thin hands on which her rings would no longer
stay, and gave a contemptuous denial to these accusa-
tions, while Napoleon, seeing she was so weak she
could hardly stand, took her hand, almost pushed
her into an armchair, and seated himself by her
side.
" Ah, ca ! what do you want ?" he asked. "It is
for Junot, is it not? Well ! he shall come back — but
meanwhile he complains much of me, does he not ?
Come, speak the truth."
A vehement discussion followed, during which
Laura pleaded Junot's faithful services, the dangerous
state of his health, his deep attachment to the
Emperor, from whom harshness now would be a
deathblow to him.
" He would not be in a bad humour like Lannes,
who, though he loved you, sometimes treated you as
he would not have treated an inferior ; or be sulky,
as you say yourself Ney is ; nothing of the kind ; it
would be death to him." And, half- frightened at her
own audacity, she sank back in her chair. Napoleon
looked at her with a half-smile.
"It is inconceivable," he observed, " how like you
are to your mother when you arc angry. Par Dieu !
you are as passionate as she was ! "
" You are ungenerous, sire," replied Laura ; " you
know that I cannot go away — and yet I have long
1812-1813] AT NAPOLEON'S COURT 371
told your Majesty that I will never listen to a word
against my mother from your lips."
" Well ! who detains you ? what arc you waiting
for? " said he, rising as if to let her pass.
" Your answer, sire."
" What answer ? "
"The one I came to ask you for — about Junot.
I will not leave }'our Majest)^ until I have it, whatever
1 may have to bear from you."
" You are a singular woman — a character of iron,"
said the Emperor ; and resuming the conversation, he
reproached her with her visit to Madame Rccamier,
whose house and her father's had been the rendez-
vous of his enemies, pacing up and down the room
in his usual way, absolutely refusing Laura's entreat)'
that she might return, but granting Junot four
months' leave and listening with attention to her
explanation of Albert's affair, which he received with
favour and with evident regret. When Laura went
so far as to say that he owed her brother some repa-
ration, and asked for another appointment for him at
Paris, Napoleon looked at her with a smile and
inquired —
" Well ! Madame la Gouverneuse, what are )-ou
waiting for? Do you think you are going to take
the brevet with you ? " and presentl}- said, " Mean-
while, tell your brother I am very sorry for what has
happened." Then, as she took leave —
" W'ell ! do we part in anger ? Mauvaise tete, mau-
vaise tete ! Do you know you are ver\' good to your
friends, but I think \ou would be a real demon for
\our enemies." And with this and a few more
friondl)' remarks the interview closed ; the Emperor
372 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [i8i_'-i8i3
turned again to his bureau, and Laura found Duroc
and other friends waiting in the anteroom to escort
her downstairs and to know the result of the audience.
It had been an exhausting one for Laura, but she
had gained her point in both cases. Albert was
already in Paris, and Junot lost no time in returning
after he received the letter which, by the Emperor's
orders, she wrote to him announcing his recall.
Her nerves and health were, however, so seriously
affected that she grew worse and worse. She would
often have eight or ten fainting-fits in a day, to the
great alarm of her brother, who, with Madame Lalle-
mand, nursed her devotedly. One of these fainting-
fits took place in her bath, and she would assuredly
have been drowned if Madame Lallemand had not
fortunately been present and saved her, lifting her
with great exertion out of the bath and falling ex-
hausted on the floor by her side, at the sacrifice, as
Laura records, of a very charming pink crr/>e dress
she was wearing.
The meeting between her and Junot was terrible.
They were both so changed that they looked at one
another in despair. It was Laura, however, who was
in the most immediate danger, and as the great
doctor Corvisart had just returned to Paris, Junot
called him in.
Corvisart, like many of the men about the Court
and household of Napoleon, was rough, almost brutal
in manner, but extremely clever ; and by his treat-
ment, after a time of anxiety almost amounting to
despair, she began to recover, and in spite of the
severe cold of the winter, could be carried from one
room to another and even "o out a little in a carriage.
1812-1813] ^T XAPOLEOXS COURT 37;,
Junot watched over her with the tenderest care.
He would not allow any of her women to sit or
sleep in her room at night, but, in sjMte of his own
sufferings, had a bed in her room and was always
ready to give her the medicine and nourishment
ordered during the night at short intervals. One
night, when he thought she was asleep, Laura heard
him. sighing and groaning in such evident miser\'
that, terror-stricken and distressed, she called out to
know what was the matter, and as he did not hear
her, she managed to get up and go to his bedside.
P^ending over him, she found his face wet with tears,
and throwing her arms round him she besought
him to tell her the cause of his grief Seeing
that any further concealment would do more
harm than good, Junot poured into Laura's ears
all the history of his misfortunes during the late
campaign, the anger of the Emperor, and the fatal
bulletins. All night long she listened and sympa-
thised and com.forted him, glad that at any rate he had
now the relief of being able to speak freely to her of
what had been weighing so fearfully upon his mind ;
whilst he assured her repeatedly that she and his
children were all he now cared for in the world, that
she had always been his good angel, and that he
had loved her just the same from the day he had
first asked her mother's consent to their marriage.
After this conversation Junot seemed to a certain
degree to recover his equanimity, although he still
fretted and grieved over the change in the Emperor.
Of the disasters in Russia he seldom spoke, except
when they were alone together, and then with pro-
found sadness, One day, at breakfast, he read out of
374 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1812-1813
the Mofiiteur a paragraph announcing the return to
France of part of the troops from Russia, and threw
down the paper with a contemptuous laugh and a
muttered oath.
" Isn't it unworthy of the Emperor's greatness,"
he said, " to try to hide from the nation the loss of
its sons? And how can it be hidden? This paper
speaks of the troops entering Mayence on their
return from Russia ! Of four hundred thousand
men who crossed the Niemen, not fifty thousand
have come back ! "
All kinds of caricatures and epigrams were now
circulated in Paris, greatly to the displeasure of the
Emperor.
In 1809, when the Kings of Bavaria, Saxony, and
Wurtemberg, a number of princes and princesses,
and the members of the Imperial family were all in
Paris, an immense inscription appeared upon the
Tuileries : " Foiids a vendre — pas c/ier—fabrique de
sires',' at which Napoleon was much irritated, and
the author of which he vainly tried to discover.
But in the disastrous days of 181 3 they were
doubly bitter to him, and were to be seen all about
the streets. One said that he was " mauvais jar-
dinier, car il avail laissc geler ses grenadiers et fletrir
ses lauriersT ^
In another, a father says to his son, " Venez ici,
monsieur ; alions, nc pleurez pas, qu\xi>ez-vous fait de
ces qnatre cent inille petits soldats que je vous ai donncs
pour vos ctrennes, il ;/'/' a pas encore un an? Oil est-
el/e, cette amice ? "
' '"A Ijiici gardener, for he had let his pomegranates (or grenadiers)
ireeze and his laurels wither. '
1812-1813] AT XAPOLEON'S COURT 375
"/e fai, papa,je I'ai {gelce)." '
A third remarked, '^ L'einperciir a perdu tout so)i
argenterie en Russie, mais en revenant eji France il a
t'te tout c tonne de retrouver tons ses plats au Scnat." 2
A fourth was supposed to be a dialogue between
two men crossing the Carrousel.
" Monsieur, pourriez-vous me dire qnelles so)it les
statues que je vois sur ces pilastres ? "
" Oui, monsieur, ce sont des J 'ietoires."
" Monsieur, je vous demande pardon, les Victoires
7tont jamais cette tournure la — Des Victoires ! que
diable. Monsieur, venez-vous me conter Id ? "
" Mais tene.'y — z>02is voye:: bien que ce sont des Vic-
toires, elles tounient le dos a Napoleon." 3
A new campaign was now beginning in Germany,
and Junot wrote to the Emperor begging to be
employed in it. About a week afterwards he came
into his wife's room with looks of consternation,
exclaiming, " Laura, I am going to leave you. I
start at once. The P^mperor has just done me a
great honour," he added sarcastically, as he threw
• " Come here, sir. Don't cry. Wliat have you iloiie with the four
hundred thousand little soldiers I gave you less than a year ago for the
New Year? Where is that army?"
"I have it, papa, I have it" (pronounced gelce, '■'frozen, papa,
rozett.'^)
- " The Emperor, having lost all his plate in Russia, was surprised
on returning to France to find all his dishes at the Senate." (Pint
means also a flunkey.)
3 "Can you tell me what statues those are on the pilasters?"
"Ves, monsieur, they are \'ictories."
" I beg your pardon, monsieur, \'ictories never look like that.
Victories ! What the devil are you telling me ? "
" But look ! — you can see they are Victories, they are turning their
back on Napoleon."
37^) A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1812-1813
upon her bed two brevets, one making him Governor
of Venice, the other of Illyria.
The appointments were really important and dis-
tinguished, but they were not what Junot desired ;
and, in spite of the persuasions and representations
of Laura, Duroc, and other friends, he was perfectly
conscious that he had lost the favour of his idol. To
him it was exile, and he was no longer Governor of
Paris.
His farewell interview with the Emperor, however,
brought him some consolation, as he was received
with all the kindness and graciousness which Napo-
leon so well knew how to assume, and he departed
to his new post in better spirits, it having been
arranged that he should stay first at Trieste and that
Laura should join him at Venice as soon as she was
able to travel, for she was again enceinte.
Although she assumed all the cheerfulness and con-
fidence she possibly could under the circumstances, the
state of her husband's health still caused her the gravest
uneasiness. The many wounds he had in his head
now appeared decidedly to be affecting his brain.
Besides the frightful pains and headaches from which
he suffered, he seemed to be half asleep all day and
could not sleep at night ; the hardships of the late
campaigns, the state of anxiety and misery caused
by the Emperor's displeasure, added to the dissipa-
tion and excesses of his whole life, had all produced
their fatal effect upon a violent, excitable temperament
without the slightest self-control.
Early in May came the news of the victory of
Lutzen and of the death of Bessicres, who was killed
in an engagement the day before. He was only
1S12-1813] AT XLiPOLEON'S COURT 377
fort\--five, and was an irreparable loss to Napoleon,
being one of the best of his generals. Bessieres had
always been a great friend of Junot and Laura, to
whom his death was a fresh sorrow.
The Empress was made regent during the absence
of the Emperor, with a council of which Cam-
baceres was president. A story circulated that
one day Napoleon, who was at this time much irri-
tated against the Emperor of Austria and out of
patience with Marie-Louise, who kept quoting her
father, exclaimed angril)' —
" Votre pere ! votre pore est une ganache ! " ' and
went out, banging the door after him.
Marie-Louise, having no idea what the word
meant, asked the Duchesse de Montebello, saying
that the Emperor had applied it to her father, the
Emperor of Austria.
" Madame," replied the lady-in-waiting, hesitating,
" it means a brave and good man."
" It is strange," observed Marie-Louise, " for the
Emperor seemed angry when he said so."
Soon afterwards, wishing to make a civil speech to
Cambaccres, she remarked —
" Monsieur I'Archichancelier, I am very glad the
Emperor has left me such a council as this, but
especially of the choice of its president, an^ I hope
that, advised by a brave ganache like you, I shall do
nothing to displease the Emperor."
Marie-Louise was no favourite with the French,
and did not like them, which was natural enough,
for she saw in them the murderers of her aunt.
Paris was just now deserted, only those remaining
' Ganaihc means an old fool.
378 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1812-1813
there who were obHged to do so. Laura was
amongst the number, and she tried to distract her-
self by receiving every evening the friends who were
left, and who came to amuse themselves with dancing,
music, billiards, conversation, &c.
Next to Duroc, her great friend was Lavalette, and
one evening he appeared in her sa/on with so melan-
choly a face that she thoughtlessly exclaimed —
"What is the matter? You look as if you had
come from a funeral."
With a start which reminded her that the remark
was unsuitable at this time, he gave her a letter. It
was from Duroc, and with an exclamation of pleasure
she opened it. It was written on the eve of the
battle of Bautzen, and she was soon buried in its
contents. When she had finished it and looked up
Lavalette was gone. The letter was as follows : —
" It is ten o'clock at night, and I am exhausted
with fatigue, but I will not let the courier go without
sending you news of me ; it is so long since I have
been able to write to you. But you will not blame
me ; you know all my friendship for you. I had a
letter from Junot yesterday which I will answer as
soon as I can. Meanwhile tell him that the Emperor
is pleased with him and loves him still. Poor Junot !
he is like me, the affection of the Emperor is our life.
I cannot bear to see his grief The death of Bessieres
has overwhelmed him. I think him happy to be so
mourned for, but if I thought I should be the same,
it would cause me regret. Must we be the ones to
give him new sorrows ?
" Another victory ! It is as if a fortunate presenti-
1812-1813] AT NAPOLEO\'S COrirr 379
ment had prevented my closing; my letter. This
victory is one of the most brilHant of the Emperor's
career. You may say so without doubt. Adieu.
Let me hear from you. I am anxious about \ou.
" DUROC."
At ten o'clock ne.xt morning M. de Lavalette was
announced.
" What has happened to Junot ? " cried Laura,
hastening towards him'.
" Nothing ! nothing ! " he replied ; and then, sitting
down by her and taking her hands, he said, " M\'
dear friend, a great misfortune has happened to you
and all of us. Duroc is dead."
He had been killed by a cannon-ball, and the
shock occasioned by his death was a severe. one to
Laura, whose grief for his loss mingled with fore-
bodings as to what new misfortune might be her fate.
The calamity of Duroc's death just after that of
Bessicres' was a most serious one to Napoleon, who
showed unusual feeling on this occasion. His best
generals and most faithful friends seemed to be fall-
ing rapidly around him. A few days later came
news of the death of General Thomiere, the husband
of Laura's friend, and very shortly after that the
dread which had for some time hung over herself was
realised.
She was lying one day on a sofa in her room, rest-
ing after a troubled, sleepless night, when she heard
in the ante-room the voices of her brother and of her
di'^c noire, Sav^ary, Due de Rovigo, who, in spite of
Albert's remonstrances, insisted, in the name of the
Emperor, on seeing her, and announced that Junot
38o A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1812-1813
was seriously ill ; giving her a letter from the
Emperor, enclosing one which Junot, obviously in a
moment of excitement approaching delirium, had
written to him and sent by a special messenger. The
Emperor's letter was as follows : —
" Madame Junot, see what your husband writes me.
I have been painfully affected in reading this letter.
It gives you a just idea of his state, and you must
take remedial measures at once. Set off without
losing an hour. Junot must be very near France at
this moment from what the Vicero}- writes me."
Laura read the letter and looked with a stupefied
air at Savary, who proceeded, in a manner brutal
from its want of sympathy and feeling, to explain
that the Emperor's orders were that Junot should
not be brought to Paris or its environs.
With an outburst of indignation Laura asked
where she was to take her husband ; whether the
Emperor supposed that he could go to the village
where his father lived, and if it were likely she could
find the advice and requirements for such an illness
there. Had the Emperor become an executioner —
an assassin ?
" Hush ! hush ! " cried Savary, going to the door to
be sure no one was listening. " If such words were
repeated to the Emperor you would be lost."
But Laura did not care for that. She was ill and
feverish already, and this overwhelming shock was
too much for her. She declared that she did not
believe the Emperor had given any such order, and
became almost delirious, to the great alarm of her
brother, until a passion of tears seemed to restore
her calmness to a certain extent, and she was able to
1812-1813] AT XAPOI.EOyS COURT 381
enter into the question of what was to be done.
Albert remarked that there was no time to lose, and
Savary kept repeating, " l^ut what can we do against
the orders of the Emperor ? "
After a little consideration Laura decided that she
would take a house on the Lake of Geneva, where
she had many friends and there was an excellent
doctor. She would start the following night, and all
she asked of Savary was that he would send orders
to Lyon that if the Due d'Abrantcs arrived that way
he was to be sent to Geneva ; if he came by the
Simplon she would be waiting for him herself.
Savary consented, and with many half-apologies
and assurances of his sympathy and friendship, took
his departure.
Left alone with his sister, Albert did all he could
to help and comfort her. He sent for her children,
who, seeing her tears, clung round her, asking if their
father were ill. It was arranged that they were to be
left in the care of Madame Lallemand, who was not
well enough to go with Laura. She was to be
accompanied by her brother and Madame Thomieres
but many of her friends, hearing of her trouble,
hastened to see and console her. The old Abbe de
Comnenus, her uncle, who lived with them, and of
whom they were very fond, tried his best to calm her
agitation, and succeeded to some degree, for he was
a man of saintly life to whom she looked up with
veneration as well as affection.
They left Paris at eleven o'clock on the night of
the 17th July, and travelled without stopping to
Geneva, where they arrived at ten on the morning of
the 2 1st, dreadfully tired. They went to their usual
3«2 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1812-1813
hotel, and Laura sent at once for Dr. Butini, to whom
she explained the state of the case, begging him to
let no one know of her arrival. In the afternoon
they drove along the shore of the lake till they found
a suitable house, which they took, and having sent
servants, linen, provisions, and everything necessary,
Laura lay down to rest at about six o'clock in the
evening, thinking that Junot would probably arrive
in a k\v hours, and feeling more hopeful and satisfied.
Presently a letter was brought to her from Lyon.
She turned pale and was afraid to open it, but Albert
exclaimed, " What nonsense ! Come ! it is only to
announce their arrival— perhaps to-morrow."
It was from Charles Maldan, son of Junot's sister,
a weak, stupid young man, who had been for some
time his uncle's secretar}', and now wrote that,
although they had found at Lyon an order of the
Due de Rovigo to proceed to Geneva, the officer who
accompanied them had decided to disregard it, having
been told by the Viceroy, Eugene Beauharnais, to
take Junot to "his family" ; that they were therefore
going onto Montbard, where they hoped the Duchess
would join them.
Laura dropped the letter in despair. Who but
herself and his children were " his family " ? and
what hope of recovery could there be for him in an
out-of-the-way village? for Montbard was little more,
where he could have neither proper medical advice
nor many other things necessary in such a case. His
father was very old, and in such bad health that,
although she had passed through Montbard on her
wa}' to Geneva, she had not told him of the serious
condition of his son.
i8r2-i8i3l AT NAPOLEON'S COURT 383
Notwithstanding her fatigue from the long journey
she had just made, Laura declared she would start
for Montbard the next day, and Albert ordered
everything to be ready for them to set off at four
in the morning. But at one she was seized with
violent pains, which resulted in the birth of a dead
child, and nearly cost the mother's life.
Calling for her brother, she begged him to go to
Montbard to look after her husband, and, unwilling
as Albert was to leave her in such danger, it seemed
the only thing to be done. Madame Thomieres was
with her, she had a maid who nursed her devotedly,
and Dr. Butini, in whom they had all confidence ;
he therefore consented to set off at once.
On the following night (22nd-23rd July) Laura,
awaking suddenly out of a troubled sleep, saw dis-
tinctly the form of her husband standing by her bed.
He wore the same dark grey coat in which he had
last left her, and he stood looking at her with a
gentle, melanchol\- expression. She uttered a cry of
terror, and in a moment Madame Thomieres and her
maid were at her side, entreating to be told what was
the matter. They could not see the apparition,
which moved slowly round her bed, and as she
followed it with her eyes she observed that it had one
leg broken.
" Light up the room ! " she cried. " Give me air !
Give me light — more light ! " and still the ghostly
figure glided about the room, sometimes approaching
her, sometimes going farther awa\', and beckoning
her to follow it. It was not till the morning broke
that it faded away into an indistinct cloud. Then
Laura knew that Junot was dead.
384 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1812-1813
When, a few days later, all was over, and Albert
returned to her, she learned from him that it was at
that very time that Junot, in a fit of madness, escaped
from his bed, where he was lying, having broken his
leg by a fall in a former frenzy, and, in the short
absence of those who had been watching over him,
succeeded in throwing himself out of a window.
It was a melancholy termination to a short and
brilliant career, for Junot was only forty-one, and it
was not more than twenty years since at the siege of
Toulon he first won the favour of Napoleon, by
which he rose from an obscure soldier, the son of a
little country lawyer, to be General, Ambassador,
Due d'xAbrantes, and the most powerful of Napo-
leon's Governors of Paris, for his authority stretched
to Tours, and he commanded eighty thousand men.
His death was probably owing to several causes : the
dissipation of his life, the frightful wounds in his
head, the hardships of the Russian campaign,
followed by the heat of the climate in Illyria, and,
added to all this, the excitement and agitation caused
by the harshness of the Emperor acting upon a
violent and undisciplined nature and a brain already
affected by the injuries to his head, all contributed
to bring on what was generally pronounced to be
madness, but asserted by Laura to be brain fever.
Although Montbard was not provided with the
skill and comforts he would have had at Paris or
Geneva, he had many friends there of whose kind-
ness and attention to him Laura spoke with the
warmest gratitude. He had recognised Albert, been
dehghted to see him, and talked to him of the
Emperor, for whom his adoration was still the same,
1812-1813] AT XAI'Of.EOXS COCh'T 3H5
and of his wife, for whom, in spite of his man)' pass-
ini^ infidehties, he alwaj's had great affection.
The lunperor was at Dresden when the news was
brought him, and at first he appeared to be painfully
affected by it. The letter fell from his hand, and,
striking his forehead, he exclaimed in a tone of grief,
" Junot ! Junot ! Oh ! ///ou Dicu 1 " Then, picking it
up and crumpling it in his hands as he clasped them
together, he repeated, " Junot ! Voila encore un de
mes braves de moins ! Junot! Oh! fJion Dieu ! "
and for a quarter of an hour he walked up and down,
muttering to himself.
But his sorrow and compassion were alike short-
lived.
When he had decided who was to replace Junot in
Illyria, his thoughts went back to the letter which,
although he was well aware it had been written
almost in delirium, ' yet outweighed in his estimation
twenty years of faithful service and devoted affection.
He sent orders to Laura that she was not to come
within fifty leagues of Paris, and directed Savary to
go to her hotel, open the safe in which were Junot's
papers, and bring away all his correspondence with
' The letter, except a few incoherent phrases, was as follows : —
" I who love you with the adoration of a savage for the sun — I who
am all yours— well I this eternal war that has to Ije made for you, I
want no more of it ! I want peace ! I want at last to rest my tired
head and wounded limbs at home in my family, with my children, to
have their affection, to be no longer a stranger to them. I want now
to enjoy what I have bought with a price more precious than the
treasures of India — with my blood, the blood of an honest man, a good
Frenchman, and a true patriot. Well ! I ask in fact for the tranquillity
earned by twenty-two years of active service and seventeen wounds
through which my blood has flowed, for my country first and for your
glory afterwards."
2()
386 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1812-1813
the Emperor and also the letters of the Queen of
Naples.
The indignation of Laura, when this intelligence
was brought by her brother-in-law, M. de Geouffre,
may easily be imagined. She was still at Geneva,
where for some weeks she had been carefully
watched over by her brother, Madame Thomiere,
and her faithful maid, Blanche, comforted by constant
letters from her children and numerous friends, and
gradually recovering her strength.
She, however, merely gave M. de Geouffre a note
for the Due de Rovigo, in answer to his offers of
service, saying that she counted upon his friendship
to get her exile shortened.
When M. de Geouffre was gone, and Albert asked
what she intended to do, she replied that she should
return at once to Paris and live in her own house
with her children, as she had a right to do.
Albert entirely agreed with her, and they imme-
diately began to prepare for their journey.
Why " this infamy had been done," as they said,
they could not understand — whether, as they sup-
posed, it was the work of Savarx^ and his clique, or
some spiteful feeling on the part of Napoleon, which
had destroyed his old friendship and affection for
Laura, and made him treat her as he had done
Madame de Stael, Madame Recamier, and the
Duchesse de Chevreuse. But Laura had never been
afraid of him, and neither Albert nor she thought it
likely that Buonaparte, now that his prestige and
popularity were declining, and the murmurs of his
enemies growing louder both at home and abroad,
would care to incur the odium of openly persecuting
1812-1813] -^'i XAPOLEOX'S COURT 387
the widow of one of his bravest and most distinguished
generals, whose terrible death was the subject of
universal commiseration. Laura sent for her children
to meet her at Versailles, where she slept and re-
mained till seven o'clock on the following evening,
September 17th, when she drove to Paris and again
entered her own house in the Champs Elysces.
There she found a crowd of friends waiting to
receive her, having come on purpose to show they
were not afraid to offer this public mark of their
sympathy and indignation.
When they were gone and Laura was just going to
bed there was a thundering knock at the door, which
had just been closed by the Suisse, a carriage drove
into the court)'ard, and the Due de Rovigo appeared
in a furious rage at her defiance of the order of the
Emperor transmitted through him.
After a discussion, in which he displayed even more
than his usual insolence and brutality, Laura said —
" Now, Savary, you listen to me. I do not believe
the Emperor has -exiled me, but if he has I am sorry
for him. What complaint has he against me? If he
has so far forgotten himself, he has been set against
Junot and me by our enemies. But now hear what I
wish you to tell the Emperor. I will never ask any-
thing of him either for myself or my children. I am
the widow of Junot, the man who helped him out of
his own slender means when he was at Paris without
employment and often without food ! I am the
daughter of the woman who showed him kindness
and care in his youth, almost in his childhood. Now,
Monsieur le Due, I am in the onl)- shelter suitable for
me, my own house, and I shall stay there."
388 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1812-1813
Savary broke out into fury and threats, to which
Laura only reph'ed, as she rose from her chair —
" Monsieur le Due, I must ask you to leave me to
go to bed. If you want to arrest me, you know where
to find me. Only I warn \'ou of one thing, and that
is that I shall not go out of this house without resist-
ing — only force shall tear me from it. I will cling to
the pieces of furniture, I will call on God and men to
help me, and my cries will tell the Parisians that
Junot's widow is carried from her own house by
gendarmes only to offer one more victim to him who
can no longer conquer nations. It will teach you
that evefy one will not allow themselves to be arrested
without resistance."
Much taken aback, ' Savary changed his tone and
left off trying to bully a woman who had certainly
placed him in an awkward position. He knew per-
fectly well that such a scandal as would arise from
the employment of violent measures was not to be
thought of, and he began to protest that he had
always liked Junot and Laura, and did not mean to
make her angry.
She cut him short and begged him to go away,
adding —
" I shall not change my mind. You know my
intentions ; it is for you to cause or to avoid a
scandal. I shall not seek for one."
" Will you write to tiie Emperor ? "
" No."
" Why ? You must have a reason."
" Of course. I will tell you what it is. The widow
' Sav.iry was uiic of lliosc concerned in the arrest and murder of the
JJuc d'Knghien,
i8r2-i8i3] AT \'APOLEO\"S COUh'T fyS,,
of Junot can never ask anything of him wlioin she
regards as the cause of her husband's death. His
being forbidden to come to Paris, where he could
have had proper care and advice, was the finishing
stroke. It is impossible.' for me to ha\e anything to
do with the Emperor. I will, in obedience to Junot's
wishes, treat him with all due respect, . . . but if he
tries any injustice or oppression on me I will resist.
That is my determination."
Savary went away without obtaining any other
repl\', and Laura was henceforth left unmolested.
CHAPTER XXIII
1813
ALTHOUGH money had flowed like water
through the hands both of Junot and Laura,
he left his affairs in a most deplorable state. The
little that remained was swallowed up by the debts
with which they were always surrounded. Laura had
still her dot, her dowry, and a claim on the fifth part
of the majorats granted to her sons by Napoleon.
She had also an immense quantity of jewels and
other costly possessions, besides her hotel at Paris ;
but she had no idea of managing money, and her
quarrel with the Emperor cut off any hope there
might have been of his coming to her assistance.
She established herself again in her magnificent
house with her four children, her brother, and two
old uncles, and her friends gathered round her as
usual.
Society in Paris appeared dead ; the disastrous news
that kept arriving from Spain and Germany seemed
to paralyse every one's spirits, and in her deep
mourning Laura could not in any case have seen
many people ; but a small circle of her most intimate
friends was to be found every evening in her salon^
39c
i8i3] .-/ LEADER OF SOCIETY 391
absorbed in the one subject of anxious discussion —
the war.
Lavalette had in some measure taken the place of
Duroc in I>aura's friendship, and came constantly to
bring her the latest news. The person about whom
she now felt the greatest anxiety amongst those at
the seat of war was Count Louis de Narbonne, who
had always been to her like a second father.
One morning she was told that Lavalette was wait-
ing to see her, and on entering the room was struck
by his face of consternation.
" J/^;/ Dieu I" he exclaimed; "how happ\- Junot
is to be no longer here ! We are lost ! The I'^mperor
is completely crushed."
News had just come of the loss of a great battle.
Napoleon had been beaten at Leipzig ; the Saxons,
Bavarians, and Wurtemburgers had deserted him and
joined Blucher ; the blowing up of the bridge over
the Elster, intended to cover the retreat of the French
arm}-, had been prematurely carried out, ten thousand
French soldiers being left on the other side to be
killed or made prisoners.
The French army was driven back across the
Rhine, of three hundred thousand men only about
fifty-five thousand returning to France. On the 3rd
of November the Emperor arrived at Mayence, for
the second time re-entering his dominions as a fugi-
tive. A few days later he received the news of the
fall of Pampeluna, and that Wellington had driven
Soult out of Spain, which was entirely cleared of the
French troops. Spain and Portugal were now free,
but at what a cost ! Laura felt a double pang as she
remembered the bloodshed and suffering of the
592 .4 LEADER OF SOCIETY [1813
Spanish campaign, and the thousands of French
soldiers whose bones were strewn over the battle-
fields of the Peninsula. For once she did not praise
the benevolent intentions of the Emperor towards
those unfortunate countries or blame their resistance,
but joined in the horror now expressed by so many
at all the useless carnage and bloodshed for the will
of one man, and all for nothing.
The Comte de Lavalette was devoted to Laura,
and always at her service. One day she said to him^
" My dear, good friend, can you spare me a quarter
of an hour ? "
" Of course," he replied, sitting down by her.
" My dear Count," she began, " you were a true
friend to Junot ; I like you for yourself first and then
for that attachment, of which you gave him many
proofs — amongst others these." And she took from
a drawer of her bureau a packet of love-letters ad-
dressed to Junot, which she had found among his
papers.
Lavalette looked confounded.
" I see by these letters," she continued, " that you
knew of this intrigue of Junot's, for I won't call it a
liaison, and that most of his letters passed through
your hands to the person who wrote these."
''Comment !" exclaimed Lavalette; "Junot kept
those letters. It is incredible ! "
" Why should he destroy them ? " asked Laura
coolly. " They are very well written, and they
express a sentiment which might be real and which
he probably believed. But that is not what I want to
talk to you about . . . listen to this. Taking up one
of the letters, she read it to him. It proved that the
i8i3] AT XAPOLEOX'S COURT 393
writer, besides carryin<^ on with Junot an intrigue
which had begun in Portugal ' and was continued in
Paris, but had tried unsuccessfully to make mischief
between him and herself
Laura had been perfectly aware of this affair, and
on one occasion, when Junot was away, he had sent
his letters by mistake to the wrong addresses, so that
Laura received the one intended for Madame F .
She read the letter, congratulated herself that that
was not the way Junot had ever written to /ler ; and
when he came home, gave it to him, remarking —
" Of course we have been too long married for me
to think of being jealous ; but it was a saying of the
great Condc that a general might be defeated but
never surprised. If a man is unfaithful to his wife
she ought not to know it."
Junot threw his arms round her, declaring that he
loved her better than all the rest together, and when
she asked for the letter which had miscarried, he
exclaimed —
" Do you think I would give j'ou a letter s/w has
read ? "
Laura now gave the letters and the portrait that
was with them to Lavalette, requesting him to return
them to Madame F , as she was a friend of his.
The Fmperor was at Saint Cloud, taking measures
for the defence of the country, which was threatened
with immediate invasion.
He had sent word to Metternich that he was willing
to accept the conditions of Frankfort, i.e., the inde-
pendence of Spain, Italy, Germany, and Holland, the
' This was a woman referred to in the EngUsh newspaper as
belonging to Junot's seraglio.
394 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1813
boundaries of France to be the Rhine, the Alps, and
the Pyrenees.
The corps-legislatif assembled on the 19th Decem-
ber and granted the Emperor 300,000 conscripts; but
many of those who would formerly have followed him
with blind, unquestioning lo}'alt}' — Kleber, Duroc,
Lannes, Junot, Bessieres, and many more — were dead ;
Rernadotte was fighting for Sweden against France ;
the fidelity of Murat was wavering. Hundreds of
thousands of his veteran soldiers lay dead on the
battlefields of half the countries in Europe, whose
place must now be filled by the new, boyish conscripts
raised in haste to defend the country.
To Laura's other sorrows was added the loss of her
second father. Count Louis de Narbonne, who died
of the typhus fever now raging among the shattered
remnants of the French troops in Germany. She
had not seen him since junot's death, but had
received many letters from him, full of kindness and
sympathy, and she felt his death acutely.
Slowly and steadily the hostile armies from all
sides w^ere closing upon France.
The English, Spaniards, and Portuguese under
Wellington were approaching from the Pyrenees; the
army of the North under Bernadotte, the German
armies led by Blucher and Schwarzenberg, and
countless reserves of Germans, Russians, Poles, and
Dutch were pouring towards the frontiers of the
country which all regarded as the common enemy of
the rest of Europe.
Before the end of December, 1813, Blucher had
crossed the Rhine; and the early weeks of 1814
saw the Russian troops at Nancy, the Austrians at
i8r3] AT NAPOLEON'S COURT 395
Langres and Chalons, and Bllicher established at
Joinville.
The French arm)' was without money or proper
provisions, and }et Napoleon, notwithstanding the
general discontent and indignation, obstinately
refused to sign conditions of peace, hoping
against hope, perhaps for a more favourable result
of the negotiations still going on at Frankfort,
perhaps for a general rising in the countr}', which,
drained of its strength and manhood, longed only for
peace and rest.
To Laura and most of her compatriots of that
generation, so accustomed from their childhood to a
long succession of triumphs and victories that they
had grown to fanc)' a sort of divine right in France
to attack, meddle with, and rule over other countries,
all this was like a kind of nightmare, which they
could scarcely understand ; but the warning words of
Lucien to Napoleon were now being fulfilled : the
Empire, built up with violence and bloodshed, was
crumbling rapidly away.
At last the Emperor set off, leaving the Empress
Regent and Joseph Buonaparte Governor of Paris.
He took leave of the National Guard, confiding his
son to their protection with a visible emotion, which
was declared by some to be a piece of acting, and
deeply affected others. The Carrousel rang with
shouts of " Vwe rEnipeycur ! " " Vive le Rot de
Rome I" and oaths of fidelity to be broken in a few
weeks.
At first came tidings of successes. The Emperor
had driven back the Prussians beyond Saint Dizier,
won battles at Brienne and Champ-Aubert, where he
39^
A LEADER OF SOCIETY
[i«i3
defeated the Russians, took two thousand prisoners,
including a general, and thirty pieces of artillery.
Laura went with Albert to see the spectacle of the
.KISEPHliCONArAKTK, KINC, OF SPAIN.
last triumph of Napoleon, when ten banners taken
from the enemy were brought into Paris. It was
Sunday, late in February, but the sun shone bril-
i8i3] AT XAPOLEOXS COURT 397
liantly. The quays, the Rue de Rivoli and the Place
du Carrousel were crowded ; there had been a review,
and the troops filled the court of the Tuileries and
the Carrousel. Joseph Buonaparte at their head
looked so like the lunperor that, as the procession
approached with its banners and martial music, it
recalled to their minds the remembrance of man\- a
military triumph the)- had watched in the great days
of the vanishing Empire. But it was only for a
moment ; the silence of the thronging multitudes
and the gloom on the faces of the soldiers brought
the recollection that these banners had been taken
within twenty leagues of Paris.
These short-lived successes only rendered the
Emperor more obstinate, and still he refused to sign
any terms.
To those in Paris it was, of course, a time of alarm
and consternation ; the entrance of the Allies was
now certain.
Besides the perils which might befall them,
especiall}' if the city were to be defended, Laura
was aware that absolute ruin lay before her. The
majorats granted by Napoleon as the inheritance of
herself and her children were in foreign countries
conquered by him, and would, of course, be lost now
that those countries had shaken off the yoke of
France. There were debts amounting to one million
four hundred thousand francs, chiefly caused by the
expense of living in their magnificent hotel and the
costly decorations and enlargements which Junot
against his wife's advice, persisted in making.
Many of the marshals, generals, and members of
the court of Napoleon remained rich even after the
398 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1813
fall of the Empire ; and Laura attributed the ruin of
Junot's family with proud satisfaction to the fact that
he had never been a rapacious robber like Soult,
Massena, and many others. But there can be no
doubt that if it had not been for their own reckless
extravagance, they could easily have saved from the
lavish sums which they squandered in boundless
luxury, pleasure and display, what would have amply
secured the future of herself and her children. It
was not only in selfish profusion that they had spent
their fortune ; they had shown great kindness and
generosity to the members of both their families and
to many others. Even now the Abbe de Comnenus
and his younger brother, Prince George, both of whom
were nearly seventy, lived with Laura and Albert,
and regarded them almost as their own children.
The eldest brother. Prince Demetrius Comnenus,
who was married and lived in Paris, came to see
them, and pointed out that in this desperate state of
affairs they must make use of his influence with the
King who would soon be in the Tuileries.
Demetrius Comnenus was, as Louis XVI I L after-
wards observed, one of the most loyal subjects he
had in P'rance. After his return from emigration he
would never accept anything from the Emperor ;
indeed, Laura, who was giving him a pension herself,
dared not propose to him to accept the post of
chamberlain offered by Napoleon. Everything which
belonged to the Revolution or the Empire was
abhorrent to him, and he would say to her re-
proachfully —
" You don't feel that as I do. Your mother — ah !
your mother was a true Comnenus ! "
i8i3] AT XAPOI.EOXS COURT 3W
Letters from Burgundy informed Laura of the
death of her father-in-law, who had never recovered
the loss of his son, and whose home at Montbard had
been destroyed by the Germans and Cossacks, at the
sight of whose uniforms he had been seized with
paralysis.
The Empress and her son left Paris for Blois on
the 28th of March. Joseph Buonaparte remained in
command, and the approach to Paris was guarded by
Marshals Marmont and Mortier. As the enemy
drew nearer and nearer, the greatest terror prevailed,
the wildest reports were circulated. The Emperor
had sent orders to set fire to the powder magazine of
Crenelle ; Paris was to be blown up. These and
other false rumours spread through the city, filling
every one with alarm.
Mindful of the late proceedings of her countrymen
in like cases, Laura put her diamonds in a belt which
she fastened round her waist, and concealed her other
most valuable jewels about herself and her children's
governess.
It was the 30th of March. The population of Paris
were awakened at daybreak by the sound of firing,
and the plain of St. Denis was covered with the allied
troops.
All day long Marmont, with about eight thousand
men. defended the heights of Belleville and Romain-
ville.
Joseph Buonaparte authorised Marmont about
noon to capitulate, and himself left Paris b)- the
Bois de Boulogne to join the Himperor at Fontaine-
bleau.
Laura waited in great anxiet)-, surrounded b\- her
400 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1H13
children and by many friends who had collected in
her salon. As night came on she grew more uneasy
and uncertain what to do ; she therefore wrote to
Marmont and asked him whether she ought to
remain or to try to leave Paris. Marmont replied
that he was now arranging the terms of capitulation,
and that he strongly recommended her to stay in
Paris, which would certainly be the quietest place
next morning for twenty leagues around.
The letter arrived at two in the morning (31st), and
was read aloud by Laura.
"But," objected one of those present, "if Paris is
so very safe, why has the Duchess of Ragusa gone to
Fontainebleau ? If the Duke tells other people to
stay here, why does not he give his wife the same
advice ? "
" And who says he did not ? " exclaimed another.
" Her departure makes me believe he did, for she
always does what he tells her not."
Every one, however, decided to take the advice of
the Duke of Ragusa (Marmont) ; and in a few hours
the Allies entered Paris.
It was a strange Paris to Laura on that and the
following days. White cockades and scarfs were
seen everywhere ; cries of " Vive Ic Roi !" " Vive les
Bourbons ! " were heard in the streets. With the
Russians especially came many old friends of hers,
amongst others Czernichefif. He came at once to see
her, and inquired whether she was well treated by
those quartered in her house, to which she replied
that it might be better or worse, that she had Platow.
" Platow ? " he said. " Why, Platow lodges with
Madame de Kcmusat."
i8r3] -IT X A PO LEON'S COURT 401
" The father d(je.s, this is his son ; and he eats
twelve dishes for his dejeuner, as my chef will tell
you, without counting his dessert, which is copious,
as my butler will tell you ; and his suite let my
servants have no peace."
In fact, younjT Platow gave so much trouble that
the housekeeper of the Duchesse d'Abrantes came to
complain that he slept in his boots and spurs, which
soiled and tore the fine linen, in which she took all
the pride of an old servant ; and her language was
full of curses of the Russian savage. A few days
later on, her mistress inquiring if he had improved, as
she seemed calmer, the woman rej^lied —
" Not at all, but I now give him the sheets belong-
ing to the stablemen, which are quite good enough."
By way of an experiment, the servants bought some
emetic powder and put it into all his food, wine, and
brandy ; but it had only the effect of making him
feel better and hungrier. Laura forbade them to
play any more tricks upon him, and M. Czernicheff
had him removed and replaced by one of the officers
on the Emperor's staff, who was rather a protection
than an inconvenience.
The Comte d'Artois was expected to arrive imme-
diately at the Tuileries ; the Emperor Alexander
was at the Elysce-Napoleon, both he and the King
of Prussia being carefully guarded.
From the hotel of Madame de Remusat Laura saw
the office of expiation on the place where Louis XVI.
and Marie-Antoinette had suffered.
An altar was erected upon the spot, Mass was
celebrated, and, as the Emperor of Russia arrived,
the Te Deum was sung. The Emperor Alexander,
^7
402 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1813
the Grand-duke Constantine, the King of Prussia,
Prince Schwartzenberg, the English Ambassador,
and the 25,000 troops on the place knelt to receive
the benediction ; and as they rose the Grand-duke
Constantine lifted his hat as a signal for the salvos of
artillery. It was a touching ceremony, and Laura
was deeply impressed.
Within the next fortnight events of the greatest
importance succeeded each other with astonishing
rapidity.
The Emperor Napoleon signed his abdication at
Fontainebleau ; the Buonaparte family were scat-
tered.
Caroline was in Italy, Pauline in the south of
France, Lucien in England, Joseph and Jerome
starting for America, Madame Mere and Cardinal
Fesch on their way to Rome.
The Emperor of Austria arrived on the 13th April.
Marie-Louise, no longer Empress, but Grand Duchess
of Parma and Piacenza, came to meet her father at
Trianon, and soon after left for Vienna with her son.
The Princess Catherine of Wurtemberg, on the
contrary, refused to desert Jerome, according to the
desire of her father, to whom she wrote an answer
saying that, as he well knew, Jerome was not the
husband of her own choice, that she had married him
to please her father, but that, having done so, she
would stay with him, for she had now become attached
to him, and considered that her proper place was with
her husband and children.
With the Emperor of Austria came of course Prince
Metternich, who was a great friend of Laura's, and
called upon her the day after his arrival. He told
iSi3] AT X.II'OLEOS'S COURT 403
her that all the tnajorats were lost except those in
Italy and Illyria, and on hearing that hers were in
Prussia, Westphalia, and Hanover, he shook his head
and said he feared she would lose everything. There
was, however, one portion of which she showed him
the title-deeds, the estate and castle of Acken in
Prussia, worth about 50,000 francs a year, of which
there might be some hope, as it was the property of
the King of Prussia, of which he had a right to dispose
and which he had ceded by three different agreements.
"You must appeal for that," he said, "and I will
support you. But if }ou take my advice you will
address yourself first to the Emperor of Russia,
and get his protection ; he has great influence over
the King of Prussia."
Accordingly, Laura spoke to M. Czernicheff, who
promised to ask the Emperor Alexander to give her
an audience, but added that he did not believe he
would, and on asking why, only laughed.
" I told you so ! " he exclaimed next day. " The
Emperor will not receive you at the Elysee."
" Eh ! mon Dieii ! why not ? "
" He will not receive you at the PZlysee because
he wishes to have the honour of coming to see you
liimself. Those were his own words ; are they not
charming? "
" So much so, that 1 am deeply touched by them."
" Yes ; he wants to see the widow of a man whose
name he knows so well. General Junot was one of
the brightest jewels in the Emperor Napoleon's crown
of glory. The Emperor of Russia will be here to-
morrow between twelve and one, if that hour suits
you."
404 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1813
" We have not been accustomed to such poHteness
in imperial manners," observed Laura.
The following day, at about one o'clock, the Emperor
Alexander arrived in a coupe with only one servant,
and leading her eldest boy by the hand, Laura
hurried to the great staircase to meet him.^
He took her hand and spoke to her with such kind-
ness and courtesy that he won her confidence and
attachment at once. She presented her other children,
and when they had retired, the Emperor led her to
an armchair, made her sit down, and placed himself
upon an ordinary chair near her.
" But, Sire, it is impossible that I can allow your
Majesty to sit there ! " cried Laura, starting up.
" Sit still ! sit still ! " he said, smiling. " I must sit
here to be able to hear you. You know I am deaf of
one ear ; and now, tell me what you want of me."
Laura explained the desperate condition of her
affairs to the Emperor, who directed her to make a
note of what she wished done, and promised his
support and help. He stayed a long time talking to
her of many things — of his own romantic affection
for Napoleon, of his grief at being betrayed by him,
of his hatred and contempt for Savary, in which also
Laura sympathised. He declared he would not see
Savary, who had been guilty of the murder of the
Due d'Enghien and had the insolence to set spies
upon himself in his palace at Petersbourg.
" They say his wife is very beautiful," he continued.
"She has asked me for an audience to-morrow. I
could not refuse her. But what do either of them
want with me? — that I should persuade the Comtej
' The Kiii|)eror Alexander was then about thirty-seven.
i«i3] -iT S'APOLEOXS COURT 405
d'Artois that he was innocent in the affair of the Due
d'Enghien? It's impossible. As to Savary, I won't
see him ; that I am resolved. I will attend to your
affair, Madame la Duchesse, and I am sure Louis
XV^III. will do a great deal for the noblesse of the
empire. He ought to ; and besides, you belong to his
kingdom too. Not only that, but you are of his rank.
Are you not a Comnenus? "
" My mother was a Comnenus, Sire, but I am not."
" Well ! you have royal blood, and for nous autres
souverains that binds us to help our relations who are
in trouble. Louis XVIII. was exiled and unfortunate
himself a little while ago, and he is still at Hartwell."
The Emperor Alexander talked to Laura as if he
had known her for twenty years, and she already felt
on terms of friendship with him. He spoke much of
Junot, and asked if Napoleon had not treated him
with great injustice. Then he told her that he had
read a letter of hers to Napoleon from Geneva v/hich
had been captured by his Cossacks, and had filled him
with admiration and .sympathy for her and indigna-
tion against Savary, who was evidently the enemy of
Junot and herself.
Looking round the room, he inquired if she had no
portrait of Junot among so many pictures.
" If your Majesty would like to see it, I could show
you one that is very like him," replied Laura, "but it
would be necessary to take the trouble to go all
through the apartment."
"Will you show me the way?" asked Alexander,
rising and offering her his arm.
They crossed the billiard-room, the library, which
was one of the most magnificent collections in Europe
4o6 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1813
then a large room furnished in antique style, then
Laura's bedroom, then another room, and finally-
arrived in her study or cabinet de travail^ where hung
the portrait of Junot at twenty-seven in the uniform
of a general. It was painted by Gros, and given to
him by the Government as a reward for his gallant
conduct when with three hundred men he fought and
put to flight four thousand Turks at Nazareth.
When the Emperor at last rose to take leave of her,
Laura went with him towards the staircase.
" Why, what are you doing ? " he exclaimed.
" Sire, your Majesty will allow me "
" I shall not allow anything at all. What ! did
you want to come down to the carriage with me ? "
" Certainly, Sire," she replied, laughing at his
astonished look.
" To my carriage ! " he cried, laughing too. '• Eh !
vion Dieti ! what would they say of me at Petersboiirg
if they saw me allowing a woman to come down the
staircase to accompany me ! "
" But we are not at St. Petersburg, Sire," entreated
Laura, clasping her hands.
" Well, then, submit to the conqueror," said he,
taking her hand and leading her back to the door of
the drawing-room, adding, " I warn you that if you
persist I shall come and reconduct you "
" I like exercise. Sire."
" And if I coiiunafid yon not to come any farther?"
" But I am not your Majesty's subject."
" Well, then 1 shall not come and see you again.
You will not punish me so much as that ? "
" The fear of that will make me obey more than
all the rest, Sire."
i8i3] AT NAPOLEON'S COURT 407
He ran down the staircase, and as he drove away
put his head out of the carria^^e to salute Laura,
who stood at the window.
Very soon he came again, walking in one morning
unattended, and stayed a long time, conversing upon
many subjects. Again he promised to do all he
could for her with the King of Prussia, and tried to
persuade her to come to St. Petersburg, where he
assured her that she should be well received and
entertained.
He asked whether she would have any objection to
another lodger ; as it would be most convenient if her
ground floor, which she was not now using, could be
placed at the disposal of Lord Cathcart, the English
Ambassador, assuring her that she would like him
very much, he would be deliglUed to be of any use to
her, and adding, " And when I come to see him it
will be a pretext for me to come upstairs to see his
hostess and hear if she has any complaints to make
of him."
This apartment, which had only been used for
reception, and was now disused, consisted of four
large drawing-rooms, two small card-rooms, a large
room which could be made a bedroom, a bath-room,
and an immense gallery ; the rooms opened into the
garden.
Lord Cathcart came the next morning, and Laura
agreed to let him the apartment and part of the
stables, as since Junot's death she had sold all the
horses except five.
The rooms on the first floor looking on the garden,
which were Laura's when Junot was alive, she let to
Sir and Lady Cole.
4o8 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1813
With all of these Laura got on extremely well.
She found Lord Cathcart charming, and was on very
friendly terms with the Coles. They were all to be
found frequently in her sa/ou in the evening, as in
fact were most of the celebrities then at Paris.
Prince Metternich came almost every day ; the Duke
of Wellington, of whose courtesy and kindness to
Junot and herself in Spain she retained a grateful
recollection, came to make her acquaintance almost
directly he arrived. The only annoyance she ex-
perienced was from an insolent fellow who appeared
one day when she was out and insisted on being
shown over the house, even to the cellars, which were
amongst the most celebrated in France, and, regard-
less of the representations of the Diaitre-cT hotel that
the house was already full, proceeded to mark the
doors of different rooms as lodgings for various
officers of the Prince Royal of Sweden, to whose staff
he declared himself to belong.
On hearing of what had happened, Laura wrote
at once to the Prince of Sweden (Bernadotte) to
complain, and within an hour his aide-de-camp, the
Count de Brahe, was announced, a remarkably
pleasant man about thirty years old in the uniform
of the White Hussars, with many excuses from the
Prince, who assured her that the culprit should be
found and that he himself would call in a day or two
to apologise. When he did so he explained that he
had known nothing of the affair, and had found that
the fellow, who occupied a subordinate post in his
household, was a Frenchman.
CHAPTER XXIV
1 8 1 4- 1 8 1 6
AMONG the English who, althouc^h the poHtical
enemies, were the personal friends of the
Duchesse d'Abrantes, were a very handsome aide-de-
camp of the Duke of Wellington and his sister, the
beautiful Miss Bathurst, who stayed, in her house
with Lad\' Cole, and whose melancholy fate soon
afterwards has always been remembered in Rome.
She was riding with a party of friends along the
banks of the Tiber when her horse took fright,
reared suddenly, and plunged with her into the river,
where she was drowned. The salon of the Duchesse
d'Abrantes was very much the fashion amongst the
foreign diplomatic society.
" Will you promise not to laugh too much if I
bring you one of my friends ? " asked Metternich one
day.
" That depends. You know I am naturally merry.
Of what is it a question ? "
" Of a friend of mine, who, I warn \'ou, is not
handsome. In fact, he is called the monster-prince."
" You are joking."
" Not at all. Of course he has another name, and
409
4IO .-I LEADER OF SOCIETY [i8i4-:8i6
that is Wenzel von Lichtenstein. His brother,
Prince Maurice von Lichtenstein, has asked me to
present him to you ; he is very different."
Thus prepared, Laura duly received the Prince,
whose unfortunately notorious appearance had not
been exaggerated, but who was so fascinating as to
have caused more than one grande passion.
Lord Castlereagh also wished to make her
acquaintance, and Lord Cathcart invited her to
a great dinner to meet him and Bliicher ; but she
declined, for she had the greatest hatred for Bliicher,
and did not wish to meet him.
Therefore, having promised to dine quietly another
time with Lord Castlereagh, she remained in her
own rooms while the banquet went on below.
Besides her aversion to Bliicher, she felt that she
could not bear to be present at the dinner given
in her own gallery, where so often she and Junot had
entertained the generals and officers of the Empire ;
and now that it was all swept away, as the martial
music of their conquerors rose to her ears melancholy
recollections filled her mind and depressed the
usually elastic spirits which with her light-hearted,
sunny temperament supported her through so many
of the trials and difficulties of her chequered life.
A few days later she fulfilled her promise of
dining with Lord Cathcart to meet Lord Castlereagh.
The Duke of Wellington was also present, and asked
if he could see the child born in the Spanish campaign,
whom, with his mother, he had certainly on one occasion
saved from the brigands. Laura went up and, taking
him out of bed, wrapped him up and brought him
downstairs. The little one laughed and played with
i8r4-i8i6] AT NAPOLEOS'S COrRT 411
the stars and orders of Wellington and the rest,
when suddenly he hid his face in terror on his
mother's shoulder as a remarkabl)- ugly man entered.
It was Blucher. Laura ran upstairs with the child,
and Lord Cathcart made profuse apologies, saying he
had come in by chance.
"Where is he.^" said Laura, looking round the
room.
" Why, he is gone. I told him that )ou could not
bear to see him, so he went."
" How cou/d you ? "
"Bah! he is gone to the Cercle. If he wins, the
impression will be effaced by his good-humour, and if
he loses, by his ill-humour."
In the meantime preparations were being pushed
on for the departure of the Emperor Napoleon for
Elba ; and having received a letter from Fontaine-
bleau containing many details on the subject, Laura
went to La Malmaison to see the Empress Josephine,
whom she knew to be very anxious for news of him.
It was early when she arrived, and Josephine was
still in bed ; but on hearing that the Duchesse
d'Abrantes was there she ordered her to be instantly
admitted. Stretching out her arms to her, she cried,
in a voice choked with tears, " Ah ! Madame Junot !
Madame Junot ! "
Laura burst into tears also, for the sight of those
rooms and corridors, once so familiar, and where she
had spent so many happ\- da)-s, was too much for
her.
When the Empress heard that Laura had a letter
from Fontainebleau she asked eagerly that ever)- word
should be read to her, as she wished to know a//.
412 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1814-1816
It was a difficult letter to read her, as it was full of
allusions to the Empress Marie-Louise and the King
of Rome.
" What do you think of that woman ? " she asked,
when Laura had finished it.
" What I have always thought, Madame : that she
is a woman who never ought to have crossed the
frontier between France and Germany."
Josephine seemed pleased with Laura's opinions
and sympathy, and presently said —
" Madame Junot, I have a great mind to write to
Napoleon. Do you know why? I want him to let
me go to Elba with him if Marie-Louise does not.
Do you think she will go ? "
" I don't think so — she is not capable of it."
Josephine then asked Laura to get Prince Metter-
nich to use his influence in her favour as he was her
great friend, and it was hard to convince her of the
impossibility of her plan. Laura represented that it
was very doubtful whether Napoleon himself would
consent ; and on her asking why not, replied,
" Because his sisters will certainly go, Madame, and
Madame Mere too. Let your Majesty recollect all
she suffered even on the throne of France and in the
palace of the Tuileries, protected by being a sovereign
and wife of the Emperor. If even then the sisters of
Napoleon did not respect your trancjuillity, what would
they do now ? "
" I believe you are right," said Josephine sadly,
leaning her face upon her hand. "Yes, I believe you
are right. Have you seen the Comte d'Artois ? "
" No, Madame."
Josephine then expressed her anxiety lest a report
i8i4-i8i6] AT \'APOLEO\'S COURT 413
should be well-founded which sjiid that she was to
lose the title of FLmpress and be called the Duchess
of Navarre, but on this point Laura could give her
no information.
The dejeuner was in the little dining-room, also
full of associations and memories. .Afterwards they
walked in the conservatory, gardens, and park, where
the Empress showed Laura many of the plants and
shrubs she had sent her from Spain and Portugal.
Josephine was extremely fond of flowers, and when
Laura asked permission to present Lord Cathcart,
who had requested her to do so, she replied —
" Yes ! bring him to see me, but let it be at the
end of the month. I .should like the tulip-trees to be
in flower and the park in all its beauty."
Laura remained until late in the afternoon, the
Empress showing her much affection and sympath}',
and saying, " You know, if you don't care to go to
the Tuileries, you can always come to La ALalmaison,
and stay altogether if you like. The Emperor has
been unjust to you and Junot, it is for me to make
reparation. Your daughter is my god-daughter and
I ought to do for you and her what I am sure
Buonaparte would have done if he had remained
upon the throne."
As the time drew near for the departure of
Napoleon, Laura's bitter resentment against the
man to whom she attributed the death of her
husband was swallowed up in pity and regret for
the hero of her youth, the greatest commander and
statesman of modern times, the extraordinarx* genius
who had saved France from the horrors of the
Revolution, given her a magnificent code of laws and
414 .-1 LEADER OF SOCIETY [1814-1816
placed her, for a few short years, at the head of all
the nations in Europe.
Louis XVIII. was approaching the capital, and
Buonaparte, after a sorrowful parting with the
Imperial Guard and the few friends and followers
still faithful to him, was travelling from Fontaine-
bleau southwards, often assailed by the curses and
threats of the furious mobs which had once received
him with acclamations. More than once he had
been in danger of his life, and on one occasion saved
himself by putting on an Austrian uniform.
" I lost two of my sons at la Mojalsk ! " cried one
woman.
" I lost my father and husband at Wagram ! "
shouted another.
" I was made a cripple when I was twenty ! "
called out a man with a wooden leg.
" And the horrible taxes ! " yelled another. " Six
sous for a pot of wine ; and all for the sake of the
butchery he called ' his wars.' Death to the tyrant !
Death ! "
Pauline had taken a little house and was waiting to
meet him, but when she beheld the Austrian uniform
she started back in the midst of the tears and words
of affection with which she met him, exclaiming,
" What is that uniform ? "
" Paulette, would you wish me to be murdered ? "
She looked at him for a moment. " I cannot
embrace you in that dress," she said. "Oh, Napoleon!
what have you done ? "
He left the room, and when he came back in the
uniform of the Old Guard she threw herself into
his arms.
i8i4-i8i6] AT X.irOI.EOXS COrh'T 41.:;
Outside a crowd had collected, and to the alarm of
his escort, he insisted on \valkin<j about amongst
them.
Suddenly he stopped before a man with a deep
scar. " Are you not Jacques Dumont ? "
" Oui, monseigneur! Oui, mon general! Oui,
Sire!"
"You served with me in Egypt?"
" Yes, oh yes, Sire I "
" You were wounded — but it was long ago, I
think ? "
" At the battle of Trclia, Sire, with the brave
General Suchet, in my leg, and I could serve no
longer. But now when I hear the drums beat I feel
like a deserter not to go. I would follow }-our
Majesty again wherever you chose." And he shed
tears, repeating, " My name ! my name — after fifteen
years ! "
Napoleon spoke to some others, and suddenly
exclaiming, "Marshal Massena commands at Toulon.
I should like to shake hands with him before I go
away, perhaps for ever."
" Will you .send a letter, Sire? "
" I will take it I And I !" cried about two hundred
voices with eager enthusiasm.
As Laura was sitting alone at work one morning,
one of her valets-de-cJiaiiibre came in and said some
one wanted to see her. He did not know who it was, as
he had only just come from Burgundy, bringing some
of Laura's possessions which had been saved from the
enemy. He had assured the gentleman that Madame
did not receive at that hour, but it was no use.
" Is it M. Czernicheff?"
4i''> A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1814-1816
" No, Madame, I know M. CzernichefT, it is not
him."
" Show the gentleman in," said she and looking
up, she started to her feet, upsetting all her things,
as the Emperor Alexander walked in laughing
heartily,
" Why you are extraordinary in Paris," he said.
" Did the Emperor Napoleon never come and see you
in this way without ceremony ? "
Laura was just going to say " no," when she
remembered his visit to Junot in that very room, on
one occasion when he had been suffering from an
illness brought on by some disagreement between
them. She told the Emperor Alexander about it, and
he led her to speak of Junot and of the treatment he
had received from Napoleon, asking her many
questions respecting different persons she had known,
especially Bernadotte, now Prince Royal of Sweden,
where his wife was not very happy, finding the climate
and court alike cold and dull after France. He stayed
an hour and a half, and before going assured her that
he had spoken to the King of Prussia, who had
promised that the estate of Achen and all the arrears
should be given her.
The next day M. von Hardenberg, was announced :
a stiff, dried-up personage who brought her the deeds
of investiture of that property, but to her utter con-
sternation she found that it was only to be granted
on condition that her two sons should be naturalised
Prussians, which she refused with a transport of
indignation.
She wrote to the Plmperor Alexander, who came
to sec her next day, extremely vexed and dis-
i8i4-i8i()] .17" XAI'OLEOXS COf'RT 417
appointed; but there was notliitiLi more to be done —
the fortune was lost.
There was now no hope but in the Kin^^, and
Albert and their uncles all urged Laura to apply to
him for assistance.
She was to be presented with the rest of the court,
and simplicity in dress was strictly enjoined ; Laura
found that none of the magnificent toilettes she had
worn at the court of Napoleon would be admissible.
She looked at her tiara and rivieres of diamonds, and
pronounced them impossible; she tried on iipanere of
emeralds and smaller diamonds, which was in the
days of the Empire called a parure dii matin — even
that was too brilliant. Her dresses and mantles,
heavy with gold and silver embroidery, were not to be
thought of She ordered a dress of white satin and
white crepe and wore in her hair a parure of car-
buncles with which she thought no fault could be
found.
In the place where she had always been accustomed
to see Josephine and then Marie-Louise, stood the
Duchesse d'Angouleme, Dauphine of France. She
bowed to each as they curtseyed to her, but when
Laura came up she stopped her, saying, with a gentle
manner and voice —
" You are Madame Junot ? "
" Yes, Madame."
" You suffered very much in your last Spanish
journey. Did }'ou save your son ? "
Laura was on the point of saying that the boy
should be brought up to serve and defend her, but
hesitated to do so, and the Princess continued, in a
tone of kindly interest —
4i8 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1S14-1816
" You do not feel any ill-effects from these hard-
ships still ? "
" It is three years ago now, Madame."
" Ah, yes, that is true," said the Dauphine reflecting.
She bowed and Laura passed on with a thrill of
mingled affection and reverence for the woman who
seemed to her at once a princess, a saint, and a
martyr — a feeling far different from her liking and
friendship for the kind-hearted, frivolous Josephine, or
her indifference to the cold, unsympathetic Marie
Louise.
The Court was presented en masse to the King,
whom many of them, including Laura, scarcely saw ;
but, following the urgent advice of her brother and
uncles, she asked for an audience, which was granted
for the next day between two and three o'clock.
With mingled feelings of melancholy and em-
barrassment Laura drove to the Tuileries, so familiar
and yet so strange to her. She dreaded the interview
in which she must ask for the remnant of their
fortune and throw herself and her children upon the
generosity of Louis XVIII. ; she considered with
perplexity how she should call the late Emperor
when she spoke of him, hesitating between " the
Emperor," which would perhaps be ill-bred, and
" General Buonaparte," which would, she thought, be
cowardly.
She had also heard a rumour that the King had
promised the faiiboiirg St. Germain not to allow the
" noblesse vilainel' i.e., of the Empire, to sit down in
his presence.
When she entered the room in which .she had so
often found Napoleon, Louis XVIII. was seated in an
iSi4-i«i6] AT XAI'OI.EONS COURT 419
armchair, from which he raised himself slowly,
excusing himself on account of the gout from which
he was suffering, and making her sit in another arm-
chair by his side.
Remarking that he was perhaps overtired, Laura
suggested that joy and happiness seldom did any
one real harm.
"Joy and happiness? Those are two things to
which I shall have to get accustomed ; they have
been very strange to me since I left France. They
say }'ou are a good Frenchwoman, Madame la
Duchesse, so }-ou will understand me. You are rather
like your mother — she was very beautiful when I last
saw her."
"Your Majesty knew my mother?" And she
drew nearer to him.
" How should I not liave known any one so lovely ?
especially when she was a Comnenus and her
brothers were at court. Is she still at Paris? Oh!
I beg your pardon, I beg your pardon a thousand
times ! " he added, as Laura's look and silence told
him the truth. Then, changing the conversation, he
said —
" You are not used to find such an invalid as I am
here?" He questioned her about Junot with much
kindness and sympathy, took notes, and promised to
grant her petition, observing, with a graceful courtesy
which touched her —
" The Due d'Abrantes did not die in my service,
but such a man is an honour to his country, and it is
for her to pay the debt. I will attend to it."
A sum which had escaped the Prussians and was
still in the imperial treasury, bringing her an income
420 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [i«i5-i8i6
of 10,000 francs, was restored to her, and a pension
promised.
The King also granted the petition she made for
her brother, and promised to buy her great /w/el in
the autumn.
Before the alHes left Paris Laura gave a large
dinner-party in honour of the Duke of Wellington.
" Whom would you like to meet ? " she asked him.
"Whoever you like — Metternich — he is pleasant
and amusing."
" But Laura could by no means invite both
Wellington and Metternich. Which, in that case,
would take precedence of the other ? She thought
of the Cardinal Maury, who, in spite of his deplorable
principles and character, was rather a friend of hers,
but a cardinal took precedence over every one else.
In her perplexity she explained the state of things
to Prince Metternich, who promised to come after
dinner, and with the exception of the two Princes
von Lichtenstein, those invited to dine were chiefly
French and P2nglish.
No one who was present on that evening, seeing
the splendour of the house, the masses of flowers
everywhere, the perfection of the dinner and of the
music which followed it, the magnificent toilettes, and
the lavish profusion which seemed to pervade every
arrangement, would have supposed the hostess to be
a ruined person with young children and old uncles
depending upon her, and nothing to rely on but the
generosity of the King.
The entertainment was brilliant and successful
enough, the only cont re-temps being caused by a
French General, who was so anxious to insult the
I8I4-IHI6]
AT NAPOLEON'S COURT
421
Duke of Wellington that, instead of simpl\' declining
to meet him, he tried to assert his dignity b\' arriving
very late, in a morning coat and trousers and dirtv
shoes — a proceeding which made Wellington laugh,
and only annoyed his hostess, against whom he had
no spite whatever.
422 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1814-1816
The allies departed — to the festivities in London,
and then the Congress in Vienna, whence Laura heard
often from Prince Metternich.
She sold her splendid //ote/ and moved into a
smaller one with her famil}', still sharing in all the
stir and excitement, social and political, that went on
around her.
The summer and winter passed away and March
began : it was almost a year since the fall of the
Empire, when suddenly came the news that Buona-
parte was again in France.
It was like a thunderbolt in the midst of a clear,
calm day. Received with transports of joy in the
provinces, his journey from Golfe-Juan to Paris was
a continued triumph, and he entered the Tuileries a
few hours after the flight of the King and royal family
on March 20, 181 5.
But at Paris he did not find the enthusiasm he had
met with in the country. An immense crowd had
gathered before the Tuileries, but he missed many of
the faces he looked for, and he was received almost
in silence.
The theatres were all closed, and an atmosphere of
gloom and depression seemed to pervade the city.
Some members of his family met him, amongst
others Lucien, who, forgetting his brother's past
oppression and injuries, hastened to his side in the
hour of need.
During the " Hundred days " of the second reign
of Napoleon Laura remained in strict retirement,
although it was intimated to her that the Emperor
wished to see her at his court again. Ikit the same
reasons which had before separated iier entirely from
iSi4-i«i6] AT XAPOr.EON'S COURT 42^
the man to whom she attributed her husband's death
still existed ; and besides she now considered herself
bound by gratitude to Louis XVIII., who, as she
said, had given her the help and sympathy denied b\-
Napoleon.
Few persons of any weight felt much confidence in
the duration of the power of Buonaparte ; all that
seemed to be certain was that the fighting, of which
the greater part of the nation were heartily weary,
would begin again. Not since the horrible times of
the Terror, with which her early years had been so
deeply impressed, had Paris presented so melancholy
a spectacle as during these three months.
Again bands of ruffians paraded the streets shout-
ing, " Five la Rcpubliquel " " Death to the Royalists ! "
Again revolutionary airs of sinister associations were
played in the theatres and fierce, bloodthirsty songs
sung on the boulevards.
In anxious fear people waited for the issue of
events. It was evident that the crisis must soon
come. Napoleon had not a single ally, and all
Europe was in league against him.
The energy of former days seemed to have deserted
him, and he lingered on in Paris when his most faith-
ful friends were urging him to set off to meet the
enem}'. It was not till the beginning of June that
he left Paris, and shortl)' after came the news of
Waterloo. Napoleon returned to Paris, shut himself
up in the F^lysee-Bourbon and there signed his final
abdication. Again Paris was filled with the allied
troops, and Louis XVIII. returned to the Tuileries.
The /lo/e/ in which Laura now lived with her
family was in the rue Saint- L(irj<iir. She was still
424 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1814-1816
surrounded by a large circle of friends, and went
occasionally to court, though .not as intimately
as in the days of the Empire. But wherever she
lived all the celebrities of the day were to be found
in her salon, which was one of the pleasantest in
Paris.
There was a famous Bible of the thirteenth
century in twelve magnificently illuminated volumes,
which Junot, when Napoleon ordered him to seize
all the Portuguese art treasures, brought with the
rest of the booty to Paris. Being very fond of books
and artistic works, Junot asked the Emperor to
give him this Bible, which he did.
When Laura, after her husband's death, found
herself in want of money, she wrote to Napoleon
at Dresden asking him to buy the Bible for the
Bibliotheque Royale. He agreed to do so, but before
the matter was arranged came the fall of the Empire
and the restoration, which put a stop to the
transaction.
But with the victory of the allies of course came
the restoration of their property carried off by the
French. Statues, pictures, bronzes, gems, art treasures
of every description, were sent back to their lawful
owners, and amongst other things the King of
Portugal wrote for his Bible.
One day whilst the allies were in Paris the
Duchesse d'Abrantes received an order to give it
up, which she indignantly complained might have
been sent to a maid who had stolen her mistress's
shawl.
She contended that the liiblc was hers, and must
be hers, as the Emperor had given it to her husband
i8i4-i8i6] AT XAf'OLEOX'S COURT 425
and was going to bu)' it back from herself, apparently
not considering whether Xajioleon had any right
to give her the King of Portugal's l^ible. She
appealed to the King, who arranged the affair b)'
ordering her to be paid a considerable sum for the
Bible, though not the 140,000 francs at which it
had been valued, and sending it back to Lisbon.
Amongst the relations for whom Laura had great
affection was her nephew, Adolphe dc Geouffre, son
of her sister Cccile, and with his father also she
had alwa)'s remained upon verv friendly and intimate
terms.
One da)' in the spring of 18 16 her brother-in-law
came in with a disturbed air, sa)'ing that he
wanted to speak to her upon a matter of importance.
He told her that he had just come to Paris, and
that in the hotel where he was staying he had made
the acquaintance of a young Corsican, who was
also staying there with his sister and who had called
upon him, sa}-ing that his name was Stephanopoli,
that he was related to the Duchesse d'Abrantes,
to whom he brought letters of introduction from
other relations in Corsica, and that he had come
to see him, Geouffre, knowing that he was connected
with the family.
This seemed natural enough, but M. de Geouffre
proceeded to inform her that, although neither
Freemason nor Carbonaro himself, he had been at
one of their meetings, at which he had met this
young Stephanopoli, from whom he had discovered
that there were persons in Corsica who believed
that Laura had deserted the cause of Napoleon and
knew that she had refused to s:o to the Tuileries
426 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1814-1S16
during the Hundred days ; that for this they owed
her a grudge ; therefore, knowing the fierceness
of the Corsican vendetta, and observing that
Stephanopoli talked wildly and wore a dagger,
he hastened to warn her of what he felt certain
to be a serious danger.
After a little consideration Laura desired him
to bring Stephanopoli to see her, to which he
strongly objected at first, but afterwards consented.
Soon after he had left her Albert returned from
Strasbourg, and, much relieved .at his appearance,
she told him what had happened, and found that
he agreed with their brother-in-law that the situation
was alarming.
The next day Stephanopoli was presented to her,
and proved to be a dark, handsome, rather wild-
looking man of about twenty-seven. He looked
at her in silence and evident astonishment, and then
stammered a few words of very bad French, to which
she replied in such perfect Italian that he changed
colour and exclaimed —
" What ! you speak Italian like that ! "
" Of course I do ; for a very simple reason — I
am Italian. "
" Your heart is not," he replied, shaking his head.
" Our brothers are persecuted, Napoleon is at St.
Helena, and }'ou go to see the Bourbons."
" I go because they are necessary for the welfare
of the country," she replied. " As to the Emperor,
I had reason enough to complain of him."
"Ah ! " cried this strange guest, grinding his teeth,
" how can any one have cause • to complain of
Napoleon ? "
1814-1816] AT NAPOLEON'S COURT 427
Presently his eyes fell upon the portrait of Junot,
and he inquired if that were the Due d'Abrantes.
" Ah, he was a brave man," he added, looking
earnestly at it; and Laura then related to him the
whole history of the treatment her husband had
received from Buonaparte, to which Stephanopoli
listened with the deepest attention, shedding tears of
sympathy and ending by saying —
" Well, I am very glad I have seen you and heard
all this, for otherwise " and he stopped.
Laura invited him to dine and bring his sister, who
proved to be a shy, gentle girl, very beautiful and
entirely devoted to her brother.
Seeing that her toilette left much to be desired,
Laura had her hair arranged and a more becoming
dress given her, by which her appearance was so
much improved that her brother's delight and
gratitude were unbounded.
From that time his affection for Laura became
as vehement as his hatred had been ; he came often
to see her with his sister Stephanie, of whom she
grew very fond. She told Laura of her mono-
tonous life at the convent in Padua, where she was
educated, and of her passionate love for her brother,
who was all she had in the world and loved her
devotedly. He v/as like a half-savage, this young
Stephanopoli, fierce and hast\' but affectionate and
impressionable ; the sound of music would bring
tears to his eyes.
One evening, after Stephanopoli and his sister had
been dining with Laura, they were all sitting in a
room which opened into the garden. Albert and
Stephanopoli went through the glass doors on to
428 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1814-1816
the terrace outside and stood leaning upon the
balustrade listening to Laura, who was playing
dreamil}^ upon the piano. The air was heavy with
the scent of lilacs, and for some time neither of them
spoke, but Stephanie whispered to Laura, " Look at
my brother ; he is crying."
Albert just then spoke to him in a low voice,
and they both turned away and disappeared amongst
the shady walks of the garden. It was some time
before they returned, and after Stephanopoli and
his sister had gone Albert told Laura with intense
relief that he had at last succeeded in getting
Stephanopoli to promise him to leave Paris im-
mediately. His departure would avert a great
danger, for it was now certain that he had come to
Paris with the intention of murdering not only Laura,
but the King. Albert had gained sufficient influence
over him to persuade him to give up his purpose,
and was anxious to induce him to go to America.
He had offered him letters to Joseph Buonaparte, but
it was of no use, he would only go to Germany.
Albert gave him letters to some one there, and
Laura took charge of his sister for a time. At first
he sent them news of his movements, but on a sudden
all communication ceased. After five weeks had
passed in silence Albert caused inquiries to be made,
which resulted in the discovery that he had been
murdered in a lonely inn near Ratisbon.
Nothing had been stolen from him and his assas-
sination had evidently been the work of a secret
society. He had been warned b}' Monsieur de Geouffi-e
through a friend, who said that he was also a friend
of Metternich, that his life was in danger, and he had
1X14-1H16] AT XAPOLEOX'S COrRT 429
apparently been tracked from Paris b\- tlie assassins.
Two men who seemed to be strant^ers to him were
found to ha\'e stopped with him at the inn the night
of tlie murder, and his body was f(jund with two
dagger thrusts in the morning.
His sister returned to Tadua, and afterwards took
the veil in the convent of the Capucines, near the
Porta Pia, where Laura saw her on her next visit to
Rome.
CHAPTER XXV
1817-1821-1838
IN 1 8 17 Laura had a serious illness, after which
she passed some weeks in Burgundy, where she
recovered her strength and then returned to Paris.
The winter and spring were very gay, on account
of the marriage of the Due de Berry with the
Princess Caroline of Naples.
The three friends who had been the chosen
companions of her girlhood and whose affection had
continued unchanged through all these eventful years
— Laura de Caseaux, now Madame de Castarede,
Melanie de Perigord, and Madame Juste de Noailles,
Duchesse de Poix — were living in Paris and were
constantly in her society, which consisted of many
of her early friends of royalist opinions, besides a
number of those of later years and of different
nationalities. With her children, her brother, and
her uncles her family was sufficiently numerous
and her fortune insufficient, especially for one
of her tastes and habits. In 181 8 she resolved
to spend some time in Italy, where her journey was
not entirely one of pleasure ; for she hoped by means
of influential friends in Rome to be able to recover
4.W
i,Si7-i.S2i-i838] J LEADER OF SOCIETY 431
some more of the property she had lost through the
death of her husband, and the pohtical changes b)-
which it had been followed.
She had just refused to marry a Sicilian prince of
large fortune but absurd appearance and manners who
was very much recommended by some of her friends,
but she preferred her poverty and freedom to such
a marriage as this, and set off in excellent spirits
early in June, accompanied on!)- by her secretary,
who had been Junot's, her maid and a valet.
As she drove aloni; the shores of the Lake of
Geneva, even the recollection of what she had suffered
there five years ago was not enough to prevent her en-
joyment of those enchanting scenes. She crossed the
Simplon in perfect weather, and travelled from Milan
to Florence, where she put up at the well-known
Hotel Schneider, and an hour afterwards Prince
Metternich arrived to see her.
The Grand-duke Ferdinand was now re-established,
and society was very pleasant in that charming city
of flowers and sunshine, which was far more beautiful
in those days than now. The vandalism of the modern
Italians, their rage for cutting down trees and con-
verting the whole country into a desert or a kitchen-
garden, their destruction of ancient walls, towers, and
streets, had not then been wreaked upon so man\- of
what were amongst the loveliest scenes in the world,
and as Laura sat with Prince Metternich on a
balcony looking upon the Arno they contrasted the
peace and beauty of the scene before them with
the storms and changes they had seen together, and
wondered how long this tranquillity would last.
Presently came an enormous bouquet from Prince
432 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [i«i7-i82i-i838
Camillo Borghese, with a note to inquire when the
Duchess could receive him, and he shortly appeared
and invited her to drive in the Cascine.
That lovely park was thronged with carriages, and
as they drove up and down they met the Grand-
duke with his two nieces, Leopoldine, soon after
Empress of Brazil, and Marie-Louise, whom Laura
had not seen since she reigned at the Tuileries.
As she bowed to Laura a flood of recollections
rushed into her mind and made her start. For Marie-
Louise personally she had never felt either liking or
respect, but she thought she ought perhaps to go and
see her before leaving Florence, and remarked that
evening before various people who had come to tea
in her salon, that she must do so. Prince Metternich,
who was present, made no observation at the time,
but sent her a note early next morning advising her
not. She followed his counsel, and having been
present at the departure of the Archduchess
Leopoldine for Brazil, she took leave of her friends
in Florence and pursued her journey to Rome.
The country was then exceedingly unsafe on
account of the brigands by which it was infested ;
but having, of course, an escort, and never travelling
after dark, Laura arrived safely at the last post from
Rome, a lonely inn called La Storta. As it was
seven o'clock, it was impossible to go on that night,
so she resigned herself to sleep there, though the
solitude of the place frightened her, and she asked
the landlord, who served her at supper, whether there
was not a risk of the inn being attacked in the night.
He assured her that she was quite safe in his house,
pointing out that there was a post of carabinieri close
•
1817-1821-1838] AT NAPOLEONS COriiT 433
by and a 'j^reat bell to rin<^ in case of alarm, and
adding what reassured her most — that of course any
such event would ruin his inn, for nobody would ever
sleep there again, and implying that he averted such
a misfortune by paying blackmail to the brigands.
As he waited upon her the host entertained her
with stories of their crimes and depredations which
were by no means reassuring, and must have
reminded Laura of her Spanish journeys in a wilder
and more dangerous countr\-, but generally under
the powerful protection of her husband.
One of the most terrible of these histories was
that of an English family who were wintering in
Rome, and whose eldest daughter had just married
a Mr. Bischopp.
The young people had set their hearts upon going
to Terni, the neighbourhood of which was particularly
dangerous. They were warned by their friends
against going there without an escort, but persisted
in their rash folly, and set off unaccompanied. Mrs.
Bischopp tried to persuade her mother and sisters to
go too, but they refused (her father was dead).
They slept at the inn, got up early and went to
see the waterfall, near which Mr. Bischopp sat down
to sketch, whilst Mrs. Bischopp allowed herself to be
persuaded by the guide to go up to a higher point
at some little distance to see the view.
Her husband sat for some time absorbed in his
work, until he was startled by the sound of shrieks
and cries mingling with the noise of the water, and,
looking up, saw his wife being carried up the rocks
by two men. He rushed after them, but slipped
upon the stones and fell. When he got up the men
29
434 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1817-1821-1838
with his wife had disappeared, and the guide was
coming towards him battered and hurt.
He appHed to the podcsta of the place, who told
him that such occurrences vv^ere frequent, and the only
thing to do was to wait patiently until some commu-
nication was made ; but scouted his proposal to
arrest the messenger, declaring that to do so would
be fatal.
During the day a letter was brought saying that
the captive would not be harmed, and would be
restored if before eight days 30,000 francs were put
upon a certain stone indicated. If not, her husband
would never see her again.
The unfortunate man hurried to Rome to obtain
the ransom. There was consternation all over the
city. The Duchess of Devonshire went at once to
Mrs. Bischopp's mother and offered her purse, but the
husband got the money from his banker (Torlonia),
and hastened back to place it upon the stone described.
But although he kept it there for four days and went
back fifteen times, there was no answer, and his wife
was never heard of again.
Laura was soon comfortably established in Rome
and surrounded with friends and acquaintances.
Several of the Buonaparte family had settled there,
and received her in their different ways with much
affection.
Madame Mere lived in mournful resignation in the
great Roman palace, where her chief solace was in the
society of such of her children and grandchildren as
she could gather round her. Her eldest daughter,
Elisa, was in Germany, and she never forgave Caroline
for her desertion of Napoleon. Some of her sons
1817-1H21-183S] AT XAI'OLEOS^ S COUR'I 4^^
were far awa)-, but Jerome and the IVincess Catherine
came to Rome ; Pauline, the only one of her family
who had preserved the rank she was the first to attain,
inhabited the hu<^e pala/.zo l^or^hese ; I.ucien and his
family had returned in peace to the scenes and
pursuits in which they delit^hted ; his eldest daughter,
Charlotte, was the wife of Prince Gabrielli ; and
Cardinal Fesch, the brother of Madame Mere, was
constantly with his sister, who found the greatest
consolation in his presence.
Never had there been a more interesting and
intellectual society ; and Laura entered into it with
enthusiasm. Her sa/on was at once the resort of all
the political, artistic, and literary celebrities. She
became very fond of the Duchess of Devonshire, and
found intimate friends in the Austrian and Swedish
ambassadors. Canova, then in the height of his fame,
was often at her house. He had not long since
finished his famous statue of the Princess Borghese,
who eagerl}' asked Laura if she had seen it and
thought it like her, adding that it ought to be, as she
stood for it.
" You stood for it ! " cried Laura, remembering the
scanty drapery of the figure.
" Yes, I did. It was not so disagreeable as you
think, for there was a stove in the room."
Pauline was just the same mixture of selfishness,
good-nature and folly as ever, and would earnestly
inquire of her numerous visitors, " How do you think
I look." " Am I looking as well as I did last time
you saw me ? "
At a ball given by Prince Torlonia, Laura sprained
her ankle, which caused her to be laid up for six
436 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1817-1821-1838
weeks, but her friends came constantly to see her, and
her sa/ori was just as pleasant as ever; therefore she
was never dull.
The Pope also was very kind to her ; he had liked
her and Junot in former days. When she was well
enough he sent for her to walk with him in the lovely
Pamfili gardens. She paid him several visits.
To Lucien Buonaparte, Pio VII. was like a second
father, as he remarked when it was suggested that he
should settle in Austria to be near his nephew, the
late King of Rome, now Duke of Reichstadt.
He said also that his fortune was in Italy, which
was the country he preferred, and that his own family
must be his first consideration. Certainly the life
they led was an ideally delightful one — a Roman
palace in winter and a villa at Tusculum in summer,
in both of which Lucien, Prince of Canino, and
his wife entertained brilliantly and hospitably the
most distinguished and interesting persons of all
nations.
In this enchanting climate, in the society of such
men as Metternich and Brougham and Byron, with a
magnificent library, and surrounded by the majestic
ruins of ancient Rome, their lives were like those
described by Horace. Lucien would walk in the
great gallery of his Roman palace conversing with
some kindred spirit, or spend hours in superintending
theexcavationsat Tusculum, or join in an out-of-doors
/ete, or sit immersed in his books, happy and con-
tented in the congenial life from which no dreams of
ambition had ever tempted him, while the crowns and
sceptres of his brothers and sisters had fallen away,
leaving nothing but mediocre men and women mostly
1817-1821-1838] AT NAPOLEON'S COURT 437
discontented and unhappy, distinguished only for
having been thrust into and then out of positi<jns they
were unfit to fill.
The discovery of some buried treasure was one of
the greatest pleasures of the life at La Rufinclla,
Lucien's estate at Tusculum.
One of the farmers on his property at Canino found
oneday a small cave containing two thousand exquisite
Etruscan vases, and in the course of his excavations
at Tusculum Lucien discovered the school of Cicero,
to his intense delight. The difficulties and restric-
tions very rightly imposed in our own days upon the
collectors of antiquities in Italy did not exist then,
which was all the worse for the country and all the
better for the foreign antiquarians, collectors, and
travellers.
Laura was exceedingly interested in the excava-
tions, and saw that of the column of Phocas in the
Forum. Numbers of exquisite little bronzes and
artistic objects were dug up there, of which she brought
back a basketful, but she gave most of them away.
One, a chariot and horses in a perfect state, she had
mounted on giallo antico as a paperweight.
The great drawback to this enchanting life was the
continual danger from brigands. There was no safety
outside the walls of the city. One of the most terrible
of their chiefs had been the son of an old shepherd
and his wife, named Gasparone. They were simple,
pious, respectable people, who lived not far from the
villa of Lucien Buonaparte, and their only son, remark-
able for his extraordinary strength, height and beauty,
was supposed to be equally pious, and was better
educated. He carved in wood, recited Tasso, and
438 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1817-1821-1838
was a favourite with the priest of the village, who had
taught him many things.
Young Gasparone was deeply in love with a
beautiful contadina who lived close by. This girl
was a great favourite with the daughters of Lucien,
who foolishly dressed her up in costly clothes and
jewels to try the effect upon her beauty, and showed
her to young Gasparone, in whose mind this imme-
diately aroused evil and covetous desires to such an
extent that he resolved to turn brigand in order to
get gold and jewels for Teresa.
He rose early in the morning, left the cottage where
his parents were still sleeping, and went to a wood
near Canino, which he knew to be the resort of a band
who were the terror of the neighbourhood, and where
he met their captain, a ferocious miscreant called Luigi,
and one of his men. He joined the gang, by whom
he was eagerly welcomed, and received with so much
favour as to excite the jealousy of Luigi.
Resolved to gain an influence with the men, and
aspiring to become their leader, he told them that
before the next morning he would give them proofs
that he had broken for ever with an honest life.
He went to Viterbo, sought an audience of the
Vice-legate, Cardinal Lanti, and offered to betray
Luigi into his hands. The carabinieri had for some
time been on the track of this band, of whom they
had killed several, and the offer was at once accepted.
Gasparone proposed to take a carriage with four
horses and six carabinieri, three of whom should
be disguised as English ladies supposed to be
travelling, and promised so to arrange that Luigi
should fall into their hands.
1817-1821-1838] AT XAPOLEOX S COURT 439
They left the palace of the Cardinal at ten o'clock
on a dark ni^ht and drove in silence for some
distance. At last the chief of the carabinieri
remarked that the way seemed lonf(, and asked where
they were ijoin;^.
" Where I promised U) take >'ou," re[jlied
Gasparone ; " we are gettinij near."
He lighted the carriage lamps, the sign agreed
upon with Luigi, and the band of thirty brigands
rushed upon them. The carabinieri cried, " Treason ! "
and were at once seized and bound. Gasparone
himself stabbed every one of them, and their bodies
being thrown into the carriage, the terrified postilion,
who had hidden himself in a ditch, was ordered to
drive back to the Cardinal.
With shouts of " Vh'a Gasparone ! " he was made
chief of the band, and told Luigi to serve him faith-
fully or forfeit his life.
A great supper in the robbers' cave followed these
murders. The next day a peasant of his own
village came with provisions to the cave, and seeing
Gasparone giving orders there, uttered a cry of
horror, and with some hesitation said —
" Then it is true you are a brigand ! Your old
father refuses to believe it, and so does Teresa. But
do you know what effect tiie news had on your
mother? She fell dead without a word."
Gasparone turned pale and gave a piercing cry.
"Yes," continued the other, "without even a
prayer for you. So you have killed \'our mother."
This terrible news for some time seemed to increase
the ferocity of Gasparone, who became enormously
rich and the terror of the countr\-side. But after
440 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1817-1821-1838
a time remorse began to take hold upon him ; he
grew less cruel and appeared to have a kind of
horror of himself
Hearing of this, the priest of his village who had
educated him resolved to see him, 'with Teresa,
who still loved him in spite of all that had happened.
When word was brought to Gasparone of their
intention, he agreed to meet them in the glade of
a wood, and was so far moved by their entreaties, the
exhortations of the priest, and the promise of pardon
from the Pope, that he assured them he would
take the earliest opportunity of leaving the brigands
when he could do so with safety. Shortly after-
wards he returned to his native village, married
Teresa, and was a good husband and father ever
afterwards, leading an honest, peaceable life, and,
what is the strangest part of this extraordinary story,
being allowed to keep his ill-gotten property.
But the most ferocious and terrible brigand in
the country just at the time Laura was in
Rome was Decesaris, who carried his crimes and
depredations not only over all the environs but
up to the very gates of the city.
Lucien had married his eldest daughter to Prince
Gabrielli, another to an English peer, and a third
to the Count de Posset, a Swede, and was now
celebrating the betrothal of another to Prince
Ecolani, a Bolognese. The Prince and several
of his family were staying at the Villa Rufinella,
near Frascati.
Laura was spending the early autumn in the
Palazzo Cerani at Albano, where Madame Mere had
also a villa. All that enchanting country, P>ascati,
i«i7-i«2i-i838] AT NAPOLEON'S COURT 441
Albano, Genzano, Ariccia, Castcl Gandolfo, were,
and are still, the resort of the great Roman families,
whose huge, ancient villas, buried in groves of
chestnut and ilex, are scattered about the hills.
The villa Rufinella, which now belongs to I'rince
Lancellotti, is supposed to occup\' the site of the
villa of Cicero, and is not far from that of Lucullus.
It stands upon the side of a steep hill, up which the
path leads from Frascati to the convent of the
Cappuccini and the remains of Tusculum. All
around that delightful abode are woods and shady
walks, and a little higher up the ruins of the ancient
Roman town, now silent, deserted, and grass-grown,
were at that time alive with the gang of busy,
chattering workmen, engaged in carrying out the
excavations which were then the absorbing interest
of Lucien Buonaparte.
One evening, a short time before sunset, a
Monsignore, a friend of the family, arrived at the villa
just as Lucien and two or three others came down
from the excavations. On his expressmg regret
at being too late, Lucien said, " Well, go up by this
path, and see them ; the men are still there, and
we will wait dinner."
The old priest walked on, found the men still at
work, and remained some time talking to them,
and looking at the excavations, in which he was
so much interested that he did not notice that
whilst he was wandering about, absorbed in the
contemplation of the discoveries, the sun had set,
the workmen had all gone, and he was alone.
The sudden chill which comes after sunset in
Italy recalled him from the past to the present ;
442 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1817-1821-1838
he wrapped his cloak round him and turned
to go back, but at that moment a hand was
laid upon his shoulder, and a tall, handsome man,
of suspicious appearance, desired him to stop. He
was dressed in the manner of the brigands — a
coat with an immense number of buttons, leather
gaiters, short breeches, a hat adorned with ribbons
and a number of watches worn as ornaments.
Twelve men at the same time emerged from
a thicket close by, and without listening to his
representations that he was only a poor priest
with no money ordered him to go with them.
They went down to the villa, where, tired of wait-
ing, every one had gone to dinner, and rang the bell.
The Comte de Chatillon, one of the guests, left
the dining-room, and ran down the staircase, at
the foot of which he found himself, unarmed and
in evening dress, standing face to face with a powerful
man, armed with a carbine, who, exclaiming, " Ah !
ecco il principe ! " ^ seized hold of him. Chatillon
defended himself, knocked the brigand down, and
called for help ; but the rest of the gang came
forward, seized the two or three servants who stood
there, and gave Chatillon a violent blow on the
forehead, which made him insensible. No one heard
what was going on, as the dining-room was at some
distance. The priest managed to escape, and by
the time the bell rang to summon the peasants to
help, Decesaris, and his band had made good their
retreat with their captive.
When Chatillon recovered consciousness and asked
where he was, Decesaris replied —
' Ah ! here is the prince.
1817-1821-1838] AT N.U'OI.FOXS COURT 44;,
" With brigands, who are just as honest as any one
else, Monseigneur, and if your highness will give a
good ransom you can sup with your family to-
morrow night. It is not our fault that \(ju are hurt.
Why did you resist so violently ? "
" You take me for somebody else," said Chatillon.
" I am not ' highness ' or ' prince.' "
"You are the Princeof Canino," answered the bandit ;
and at first he refused to believe the assertions of
Chatillon, who declared he was a poor man with
nothing to pay. At daybreak they halted in a wood,
and there, by showing some letters in his pocket,
Chatillon convinced the brigand chief of his mistake.
Decesaris, who had intended to capture the Prince of
Canino, swore fearful oaths when he discovered the
truth ; then, declaring Chatillon to be a brave fellow, he
fixed the ransom at 5,000 piastres and ordered him to
write a letter, dictated by himself, replying to his pro-
testations that he had no money, " Say no more.
You must find it."
Cardinal Fesch and Pauline Borghese both offered
at once to pay the ransom, but Lucien insisted on
doing so himself The money was placed at the
time required under a tree in the forest, and the
prisoner released. Whilst he was waiting for its
arrival Decesaris told Chatillon the history of his life.
He was considered to be the most cruel and remorse-
less brigand in Italy, He had at one time a love
affair with a young girl who used to meet him in the
evenings and pass hours with him in a wood.
Finding that this liaison caused him to be distrusted
by the band, he murdered her in order to regain
their confidence. He was the terror of the Roman
444 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1817-1821-1838
States, a price of 1,000 piastres was put on his head,
and he never passed two nights in the same place.
As time went on he became more and more ferocious,
until the country was delivered from him in the follow-
ing manner : —
Passing on one occasion by a farm where as a lad
he used to get fruit and milk, he went in and was
received with kindness by the old farmer and his
wife, who knew nothing of his present career. The}'
asked him to sit down to the table, where they were
at dinner with their daughter, a young girl whom he
remembered as a child and who was now engaged to
be married. She received her old playfellow in a
friendly way, but unfortunately for her Decesaris
admired her beauty. He ordered his band to respect
that neighbourhood and representing himself to be
only a smuggler, paid several visits to the unsuspect-
ing people. One day when the farmer had gone to
Viterbo, he walked into the house, laid his belt and
cloak upon a table, and announced that he loved the
girl and should stay till morning. The terrified
mother, who now knew who he was, he thrust out of
the door and locked it as she fell to the ground half
stunned.
In a few minutes, however, she recovered herself and
got up, hearing the cries of her daughter. "Now God
be with me ! " she muttered ; and looking fearfully
around her, she hurried to a wood not far off in which
she knew there was a post of carabinieri.
" Shall I give you Decesaris ? " she asked them.
" Santissima madre di Dio ! lo credo ! " ' was the
answer.
' Holy mother of God ! I should think so !
i8i7-i«2i-i838] AT XAI'OLEO^^S COURT 445
She led them to the farm, where all was silent, hid
them in a clump of olives, and having; a<^reed upon a
signal, lay down again outside the door.
Presently it opened, and Decesaris came out.
" Come, let us make friends again," he said, " pushing
her with his foot. " Perhaps 1 shall not make such a
bad son-in-law. Come, don't s'ulk, but drink some
Montefiascone."
He held out his hand, and as she rose and went
into the house with him .she met her dau^jhter cominfr
down the wooden stairs, pale, dishevelled, and tearful.
She embraced her, and turning to Decesaris, said —
" Well, yes, I am delighted to have a .son-in-law
like you. To the success of our wishes ! " and she
raised her glass — the signal agreed upon.
As the brigand raised his he fell to the ground,
shot by the carabinieri outside the window. They
took his head to Rome, where it was placed over the
Porto Pia, and the band was easily destroyed.
When Laura returned to Rome for the winter the
Comte de Chatillon came to see her and related his
adventures with the brigands. She trembled to hear
that while she was at Albano another notorious
brigand named Barlone had been close at hand with
his troop ; but as he happened to be ill just then and
was being nursed in a monastery, he had given orders
that the neighbourhood was to be left unmolested.
Laura, always inclined to be imprudent, had thought
of nothing but the enjoyment of that delicious climate
and scenery, and had spent her time in rowing upon
the lake, taking long walks in the woods and wander-
ing about wherever she chose. It is difficult to
imagine a more enchanting place in which to spend
44^1 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1817-1821-1838
the summer and autumn than the whole tract of
countr)' between Frascati and Genzano, of which
Castel Gandolfo and Albano are perhaps the most
beautiful. Huge, ancient villas, with great, cool halls
and colonnades lie buried in half-wild, neglected gar-
dens, where statues stand partly buried in grass and
flowers, fountains drip softly on terraces with marble
balustrades, and flights of steps lead down into
shady walks amongst the tall Cyprus and spreading
ilex groves, whose deep shadows the burning heat
of the Italian summer days cannot penetrate ; roads
shadowed by trees wind up the steep hillsides
past woods of pine and chestnut and olive, little lakes
sunk deep amongst rocks and precipices, vineyards and
strange, lonely villages; ridges of hills look down over a
sea of olives upon the Campagna stretching away to
the gleaming silver or gold of the Mediterranean. In
the early morning, after sunset, in the brilliant moon-
light or starlight of an Italian night, such scenes are
enchanting, and Laura enjoyed them with her whole
heart, and lingered until the autumn chills of November
and the departure of the other inhabitants of the
villas around drove her back to Rome.
Before the end of her stay there she made an
excursion to Terni, but with several friends and a
proper escort. One of those whom she had most
rejoiced to meet again, and from whom she most
grieved to part when the time came for her to leave
Italy, was Madame Mere, whom she had always
loved as her mother's dear friend, for her uniform
kindness to herself and her husband, and for the
thousand memories and ties they had in common.
Even Pauline Borghese took a mournful leave of
iSi7-i82i-iJ^3^] .17 XAl'Ol.EOX'S COCRT 447
her saying, " Ah ! Laura, how happy you are ! Vou
are going back to France — France ! " and she bowed
her head upon her hands and cried bitterly.
Laura's position, however, was by no means an
especially happy one. She had failed to recover
any more of the property, and the future of her
children was a subject of much anxiety to her.
In 18 19 she was back in Paris, and having decided
to take a house for a time in the country where she
could economise and get her affairs put in order and
arranged to the best advantage, she persuaded an
old friend, the Comtesse de la Marliere to join her.
They found a place called Orgeval, quiet and peace-
ful enough though not more than twelve miles from
Paris, where they established themselves.
Laura was quite happy and contented there with
her four children and Madame de la Marliere, whom
she had known from her childhood and looked upon
as a second mother. They read, wrote, took long
country walks, and received many visits from friends
in Paris, many of whom reproached Laura for bury-
ing herself in such seclusion and her children too
just as her daughters were grown up and ought to
go into society.
However, they remained there for nearl)- two years,
and then Laura, who found the place rather too
retired for Josephine and Constance, but could not
afford a house in Paris, removed with her famih' to
Versailles, where life was much less expensive and by
no means dull.
There was plenty of society, and Josephine and
Constance had friends and amusements to their
hearts' content.
448 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1817-1821-1838
They lived there for some years very contentedly.
Napoleon, Laura's eldest son, was placed at the
College Henri IV. and the younger one, Alfred, at
Saint-Cyr.
The elastic spirits which had supported Laura
through all vicissitudes and trials never forsook her,
although debts and difificulties pressed upon her
during the remainder of her life, and often she
would bitterly regret that during the time of riches
and prosperity she had wasted her money instead of
saving, like so many of her friends, a sufficient
provision for herself and her children.
No part of Laura's life could have been called dull
or uninteresting. Her childhood was filled with
storms, dangers, and terrors ; her short married life
from sixteen to twenty-nine was one of splendour
and excitement, and in her later years, in spite of
the troubles and anxieties caused by want of money,
her buoyant spirits, affectionate nature, and social
qualities surrounded her always with numbers of
friends. She was devoted to her children and her
brother, and strongly attached to a great many other
people with whom she continually associated ; in
addition to which a new interest had arisen in her
life, in the literary work to which she now turned
her attention.
But the romance and adventures of her career
were over, and from the time when at thirty-seven
she went to live at Versailles till her death, which
took place when she was fifty-four, there is nothing
to relate which would equal the interest attached to
the former part of her life, although even these latter
years, passed chiefly at Versailles and Paris in times
I8I7-I838]
AT NAPOLEOXS CO CRT
440
still eventful and amongst persons politically, socially,
and intellectually of the most distinguished in
1III-: urcHKssE uahkaxiks in I.S.5
(Boilly.)
Europe, would probabl}- contain man\- more in-
cidents worth recording than a number of the
biographies that are now published.
30
450 A LEADER OF SOCIETY [1817-1838
Most of Laura's children shared her literary tastes.
Her daughters took the deepest interest in her
writings, in some of which they assisted her, and
both of them and their eldest brother wrote novels,
essays, and various other books.
Constance married a former garde-du-corps, named
Louis Aubert, and Josephine, who, in spite of her
turbulent proceedings at her christening, had grown
up a gentle, unworldly girl, being anxious to embrace
a religious life, was made clianoinesse, by Monseigneur
Ouelen, Archbishop of Paris, a great friend of her
mother's. She worked for a time as a Sister of
Mercy, but her health was not strong enough for the
hardships of such a profession, and she returned to
the Duchesse d'Abrantes, with whom she remained
until the death of the latter. After they left
Versailles they had an apartment in the Abbaye-
aux-Bois, where Laura spent the last }-ears of her
life, devoting herself to her children, her friends, and
her literary pursuits, in which she was extremely
successful. Her novels were \ery much the fashion
for a time, and the celebrated memoirs of the
Revolution, Consulate, and Empire, which came out
in 1 831-1834 had great success, and are amongst the
most delightful existing. The first edition was in
eighteen volumes. They were followed b\- the
" Memoirs of the Restoration." Among her other
books were " Les Salons de Paris," " Femmes celebres
dans tons les pays," " Scenes de la vie espagnole,"
" L'Ojjale," " La Duchesse de Valombra)-," " Les
deux ScEurs," &c.
The greatest grief that befell her in the latter j^art
of her life was the death of her brother Albert in
1817-1838] AT XAPOLEOX'S COURT 451
1828. He harl been always more like a father than
a brother to her, and hi^i loss was irreparable.
She died at the Abbaye-aux-l^ois on June 7, 1838.
Her daughter Josephine afterwards married a
Monsieur A met.
Her second son, Alfred, of whom she al\\a\-s spoke
with the greatest pride and affection, went irito the
army and was aide-de-camp to Marshal MacMahon
and Prince Jerome Napoleon.
As to her elder son. Napoleon, his military career
ended with the Polish lancers of his infancy. He
entered the diplomatic service, which he eventually
was obliged to leave owing to the scrapes and
scandals in w hich he was continualh^ involved, and
spent the rest of his life in Paris, where he wrote
novels, essa\'s, articles, &c.
On one occasion during some disturbance in Paris,
he was standing on a balcony with his mother when
a procession of the rioters passed carrying a tricolor
flag. As Laura's eyes rested once more upon that
ensign, to some so accursed, to others so glorious, all
the brilliant days of her youth seemed to rise again
before her. Again she fancied she heard the shouts
of victory and saw the glory of France and the
forms and faces of those who were gone. " See ! "
she cried, "there is the banner under which \our
father fought and conquered ! Salute it." And she
bowed her head with tears as it passed.
INDEX
Abbaye-aux-bois, 360
Abrantes, 298, 299
Abrantes, Duke of (sec Junol)
Abrantes, Duchess of (see Laure
Permon)
Aix-les-bains, 360, 361, 362, 363
Albano, 440, 445, 446
Alexandria, battle of, 183
Almeida, 337, 338
Amiens, treaty of, 195
Angouleme, Duchess of, 417, 418
Apparition, 384
Arras, 219-223
Artois (Comte de), 401
Astorga, 324, 325
Auerbach, 267
Augereau, 129, 267, 272
Austerlitz, 250
Banquet, Royalist, 19 ; Bievre,
209 ; Marshals of France, 232 ;
Cathcart and Bliicher, 410 ;
Wellington, 420
Bavaria, marriage of Princess to
Eugene de lieauharnais, 250, 344
Bautzen, battle of, 378
Beauharnais (Eugene de, Viceroy
of Italy), 123, 132, 146, 181, 182,
250, 271
Beauharnais (Hortense de, wife of
Louis Buonaparte, (^ueen of
Holland), 132, 141, 146, 157;
married Louis P.uonaparle, 164,
204; Queen (ifllollaiid, 260,
276, 291
Beauharnais (Stcjjhanie de, wife of
Prince of Baden), 253
Beauharnais (Emilie de), 260, no^e.
Bemfica, garden of, 244
Beaucaire, fair of, 68
Bernadotte, Marshal of France
(King of Sweden), 89, 287, 326,
359; 394. 408, 416
Berthier (Prince de Neuchatel,
Marshal of France), 152, 249,
257, 25S, 326, 327
Bessieres, Due d'lstrie. Marshal of
PVance, 129, 171, 284, 313, 376
Bievre, 205, 209
Bliicher, 394, 410, 411
Bible of King of Portugal, 425
Borghese (Camillo, Prince), married
Pauline Buonaparte, 225 ; in
love with Laure, 25S, 259 ; at
Florence, 430
Bourget (Lake), 364
Brigands, chauffeurs, 95-100 ;
Portuguese, 239-240 ; Spanish,
326, 344, 349 ; Italian, 432, 433,
434 ; Gasparone, 437-44° ;
Decesaris, 440-445
Burgos, 322-324
Buonaparte, Charles, 2-13
Buonaparte (Joseph, Kingof Spain),
37 ; marriage, 47 ; head of family,
87 ; disapproval of murder of
Due d'Enghien, 221 ; consents
to Jerome's marriage, 226 ; King
of Naples, 260 ; succession, 270,
272 ; Joseph, King of Spain, 353 ;
last trium])h, 397 ; capitulation
of Paris, 399 ; flight to America,
402
Buonaparte (m- Napoleon).
452
IXDKX
AS3
Buonaparte (Lucien, I'rince of
Canino), Republican, 87 ;
quarrels with Napoleon, 15 1,
181, 191, 225 ; his second mar-
riage, 227, 228; succession, 270 ;
Napoleon and Lucien, 295-298 ;
prisoner in Knj^land, 318, 402 ;
Hundred days, 422 ; Rome, 435 ;
Tusculuni, 437 ; \'illa Rufinella,
44'
Buonaparte (Louis, King of Hol-
land), 87; married to Hortense
de Beauharnais, 164, 260, 265,
270
Buonaparte (Jerome, King of West-
phalia), 76, 87, 93, 143; American
marriage, 226, 235-237, 260;
marriage with Princess Catherine
of Wurtemherg, 283-286, 290,
292, 317, 492, 435 ,
Buonaparte, Elisa (set' F)lisa)
Buonaparte, Pauline (str Pauline)
Buonaparte, Caroline (sec Caroline)
Cacai'IT, General, 340, 344
Caldas da Kaynha, haihs of, 248
Cambaccres (Second Consul), 177,
268, 271, 272
Canouville (Colonel de) liaison with
Pauline, Princess Borghese, 256,
257
Canova, 434
Caseaux (Laure de), 94, 107, 109,
319. 430
Castel (iandolfo, 446
Cathcart (Lord), 407,408, 410,411,
4>3
Caroline Buonaparte (third sister of
Napoleon, wife of Joachim Mu-
ral, King of Naples), called
Annunciata, 88, 94 ; married .Mu-
rat, 146-148, 203 ; adventure at
Bievre, 206, 229, 252, 259, 261,
268 ; intrigue with Junot, 269 ;
succession, 271 ; theatricals, 275-
276 ; anger of Napoleon, 277-
281 ; Fontainehleau, 290, 299 ;
Naples, 316, 317, 402-404
Catherine (Empress of Russia), 283,
320
Catherine (Princess of Wurtem-
burg, wife of Jerome Buonaparte,
King of Westphalia), 281-285,
402-434
Cazotte (prophecies of), 6, 7, 8
Caricatures, 174, 175
Cere (Monsieur de), his tailcjr's bill,
160-162
Charles (Monsieur), affair of, 145,
146
Chauffeurs, 95-102
Caulainci>urt (Mar<iuis de), 90, 115,
125-130, 131, 145
Chevreuse (I)uchesse de), 252, 253,
286, 287, 288, 386
Cintra, 246 : treaty of, 306
Ciudad-Rodrigo, 339-344
Comnenus (family oO, i
Comnenus (Prince Demetrius), 2,
11 ; reproof to Napoleon, 15;
emigrated and returnefl for
Laure's wedding, 122 ; his stain-
less loyalty, 398
Comnenus (Abbe de) 300 ; saintly
life, 381, 390, 398
Comnenus (Prince George), 398
Comnenus, Panoria (wife of Charles
Pemion), her beauty and royal
descent, I ; Corsican home, 2 ;
marriage and children, 2 ; dan-
'gerous illness, 3 ; life in Paris
bef(jre the Revolution, 4-1 1 ;
kindness to Napoleon and friend-
ship with his family 12-17 '» meet-
ing of the Stales-Cjeneral, 18:
storming of the IJastille, 19 ;
horrors and dangers of the Revo-
lution, 20-27 '• escapes from
Paris, 27 ; returns to fetch her
children, 32 ; Toulouse, 33 ; l>ad
health of M. Permon, }fl, 34;
Albert, Cccile, and Laure, 34 ;
life in Toulouse, marriage of
Cecilc, 35-41 ; goes to Paris with
Laure, 43 ; state of society, 43 ;
intimacy with Napoleon, 44-52 ;
fall of the " Montague," 53 ;
concealment of Salicetti and
escape from Paris, 54-68 ; ^L
I'ermon in safety, they return to
Paris, 69 ; renewe<l disturl>ances
and dangers, 71 ; death of W.
Permon, 72 ; pt)verty and ilifii-
culties, 73 ; friendship of Napo-
454
IXDEX
leon, 75 ; his proposals of
marriage, 75 ; quarrel witb him,
77, 78; death of Cecile, 80;
Cauterets, 81 ; sa/on of Mme.
Permon, 86 ; her ball, 91 ; illness,
96 ; her courage and good spirits,
103 ; her i^arties and balls, 103,
105, 109 ; arrangements for mar-
riage of Laure, no; conversa-
tion with her son Albert, 1 10,
III ; the religious marriage, 119;
iht faubourg St. Germain and the
new society, 121-130; Mme.
Permon gives a ball, 137-143; her
affection for Lucien, 151 ; her fail-
ing health, 185 ; her death, 189
Confirmation and first Communion,
81
Confessional (wood of), 240
Contade (Madame de), 91, 92, 93,
240
Concordat, 188
Condorcet, 6, 7, 8
Corvisart, 372
Cobentzel (Comte de), 134 ; theat-
ricals, 178-180
Davoust (Prince of Eckmiihl,
Marshal of France), 222, 267
Decesaris (brigand), 440-445
Dupont-Derval (General), 357
Uuroc (Duke of Friulia, Grand
Marshal of the palace), 113, 122,
131, 150, 155, 164, 217, 267;
hatred of Josephine, 291, 300;
friendship with Laure, 313, 366,
367) 376; last letter to Laure,
378 ; killed in battle, 379
Elisa Buonaparte (eldest sister of
Napoleon, Grand-Duchess of
Tuscany and Princess of Lucca,
wife of Felix Bacciocchi), Eleve
de Saint-Louis, 13, 15 ; unpopu-
lar, 88 ; absurd costume, 125 ;
(juarrel with Napoleon, 224 ;
Lucca and I'iombino, 261
Elizabeth, Madame (Phili])piiie-
Marie-I lelene de France), 34;
murder of, 41
Enghien ( Louis- Antoine-Henri de
Bourbon, due d'), murder of, 221
Essling (battle of), 314
Erfurt, 268, 366 ■
Eylau (Ijaltle of), 272, 273
Fesch, Cardinal, 74, 402, 435,
443
Florence, 431
Fontainebleau, 112, 289, 400, 402
Fox, 197
Fouche, 156, 309, 310
Foures (Madame), her liaison with
Napoleon, 151-154
Frascati, 446
Gabkielij, 295, 297, 298, 434
Ganache, 377
Gasparone, 437-440
Geouffre [see Cecile)
Geneva, 362, 381, 430
Grammont (Duchesse de), 9, 10
HOTEL-DE-VlLLE, 304, 316
Hundred days, 422, 423
ISABEY, 182
Illyria, 376, 385
Jac(,)Uemart, 31, 32
Jena (battle of), 267
[erome {see Buonaparte)
Joseph [see Buonaparte)
"Josephine Tascher de la Pagerie
(married (i) V'icomte Alexandre
de Beauharnais ; (2) Napoleon L,
Emperor of France), married to
Napoleon, 80 ; opjiosed Junot's
marriage, 115; Tuileries, 132;
at Mme. Permon's ball, 140 ;
affair of M. Charles, 145, 146 ;
La Malmaison, 161 ; godmother
to Laure's child, 200 ; dejeuner
and ball, ^02, 204 ; coronation,
228 ; visit to Raincy, 269 ; the
succession, 271 ; enmity of the
Buonaparte fixmily, 290 ; fears
and depression, 315 ; her last
ball at the Hotel-de-Ville, 316 ;
divorce, 316; Aix-les-bains, 362;
receives visits at La Malniaison,
412, 413, 414
INDEX
^55
Junot (Andoche, Due d'Abraiitl-s) :
friend of Napoleon, 48; Pau-
lette, 48 ; Commandant of Paris,
104; Laure I'ermon, 105-110;
betrothal, 112-117; marriage,
11S-122; insists on a wedding
dinner, 123, 126 ; Mme. Per-
mon's invitations, 136-140 ; !M.
Charles, 146; attempt to assassi-
nate the First Consid, 155 ;
accident to Laure, 157 ; San-
terre, 158, 159; La Malmaison,
171, 172; loss of Egypt, 184;
anxiety for Laure, 187 ; Mme.
Leclerc, 192; licjeiiiicr a\v\ ball,
202 ; extravagance, 204 ; Pievre,
208, 209 ; diH'erences with Napo-
leon, 210-212; at the siege of
Toulon, 213; imprisonment of
the ICnglish, 216 ; opposes Napo-
leon, 217, 218 ; Arras, 219 ;
murder of Due d'Enghien, 221 ;
fete at Poulogne and pensi(jn,
223 ; coronation, 228 ; Ambassa-
dor to Portugal, 230 ; Jerome
Buonaparte, 235-237 ; journey to
Lisbon, 238-242 ; life at Lisbon
and Cintra, 242-248 ; Brunn,
249 ; Governor of Parnn, 253 ;
intrigues and liaisons, 254, 255 ;
Governor of Paris, 264 ; Raincy,
265, 268 ; Caroline Mural, 269 ;
the succession, 270-272 ; intrigue
with Caroline ^Iurat, 273-276;
anger of Napoleon, 277-281 ;
sent to Lisbon, 286 ; Abrantes,
299 ; New Year's present to
Laure, 300 ; sinister rumours,
302, 304 ; defeat of X'imeiro,
305; Treaty of Cintra, 306; La
Rochelle, 307 ; Spain, 308 ;
Saragossa, 309 ; paid for jewels,
313 ; campaign in Germany,
314 ; Essling, Wagram, Paris,
315 ; ball at Il6tel-de-Ville, 316,
317 ; journey to Spain, 319-322 ;
Burgos, 324 ; X'alladolid, 324 ;
Astorga, 324; \'alladolid, 328;
Massena, 329 ; Ney, 332 ; Sala-
manca, 332 ; Ciudad-Rodrigo,
332-335 ; Ledesma, 336 ; San-
l'"elices-cl-Grande, 337 ; Portu-
gal, 340 ; Wellington's letter,
346 ; Toro, 347 ; return to
France, 350 ; sent to Italy, 360 ;
in Russian campaign, 363, 366 ;
injustice of Napoleon, 367 ;
despair of Junot, 368, 369 ; his
return, 372 ; his care of Laure,
373 : made Governor of N'enice
and Illyria, 376 ; 'departure, 376 ;
serious illness, 380 ; letter from
Napoleon, 380; Charles Maldan,
382 ; Junot taken to Montbard,
382 ; he appears to Laure, 383 ;
his death, 384 ; his last letter to
Napoleon, 3S5
Junot (Laure) (sci: Laure)
Junot (Josephine) (married Mon-
sieur Amet), birth, 186 ; christen-
ing, 200, 211 ; goes to Portugal,
230-244, 260, 307, 317, 330,
447, 450. 451
Junot (Constance), married Mon-
sieur Aubert, 196, 230, 307,447-
450
Junot (Napoleon), 294, 307, 364,
447, 448, 451
Junot (Alfred), 343, 353, 447, 448,
451
Julian (Don), 336, 343, 345, 347
KiNc, of Rome, 352, 355, 356, 439
Kleber, 153, 394
Kremlin, 365
Lannes (Due de Montebello, Mar-
shal of France), 85, 128, 129,
200, 217, 267, 272, 273, 298;
killed at F^ssling, 314
Laure Permon (wife of Junot,
Duchess de Abrantes), birth, i ;
Ouai Conli, 10; Puss-in-boots,
17 ; horrors of Revolution, 23, 26;
Demoiselles Chevalier's school,
27 ; Jacquemart, 29 ; September
massacres, 30, 31 ; Toulmise, 32 ;
Paris, 43 ; the fish-wives, 49-51 ;
Salicetti, 53-68 ; Beaucaire and
Bordeaux, 68; Hotel de I'Au-
truche, 69 ; disturbances in Paris,
70; illness of M. I'ermon, 71 ;
his death, 72 ; disastrous state of
aftairs, 73, 74 ; Cauterets and
456
INDEX
Paris, 8 1 ; confirmation and first
communion, 18-S3 ; society in
Paris, 85 ; illness of Mme. Per-
mon, 86; her ball, 91, 92; the
chauft'eurs, 95-102 ; proposed
marriages, 102 ; Junot, 104 ; the
soiree of Mme. Permon, 199 ;
Junot and Laure, ill ; the First
Consul, 114 ; -betrothal of Laure,
115 ; insists on a religious mar-
riage, 120; her wedding, 122 ; a
mixed party, 123-130; presenta-
tion at the Tuileries, 131-135 ,
Mme. Permon's ball, 136-143 ;
attempt to assassinate Napoleon,
155; accident to Laure, 157;
Santerre, 158; life at La Mal-
maison, 164 ; adventure with
Napoleon, 165-172 ; quarrel,
173-175; battle of Alexandria,
183 ; birth of Laure's first child,
186 ; Concordat, 188 ; death of
Mme. Permon, 189 ; Mme.
Leclerc, 191 ; triumphs of
France, 195 ; Laure's second
daughter, 196 ; christening, 200 ;
Hotel in the Champs Flysees,
201 ; dejeuner and ball, 203 ;
Laure and Caroline at Bievre,
209 ; Napoleon and Junot, 210-
212; absurd prejudices, 214;
Arras, 219-223 ; coronation,
229 ; Ambassadress to Portugal,
230, 232 ; fete of the Marshals of
France, 232 ; journey to Madrid,
234 ; Jerome Buonaparte, 235 ;
dangers from brigands, 238-240 ;
Lisbon, 243 ; Garden of Bemfica,
244 ; Cintra, 246 ; Caldas da
Raynha, 248 ; storm on the
Tagus, 249 ; Trafalgar, 250 ;
return to France, 250 ; house-
hold of Mme. Mere, 251 ; Junot
and Laure, 254, 255 ; Prince
Borghese, 258, 259 ; conversa-
tions with Napoleon, 262, 263 ;
Junot Governor of Paris, 264 ;
Kaincy, 266-268 ; Caroline
and junot, 269 ; theatricals
at La Malmaison, 275 ; Prin-
cess Catherine of Wurtemburg,
281-2S5 ; the 'aiihoiiri;- Si,
Germain, 286-288 ; Fontaine-
bleau, 209 ; liirth of Laure's son,
294; extravagance of Junot and
Laure, 295 ; Due d'Abrantes,
298; anxiety for Junot, 301;
interview with Napoleon, 301-
303 ; ball at liotel-de-Ville, 304 ;
La Rochelle, 307 ; friendship
with Duroc, '^'^Z'^ illness of
Junot, 314 ; Cauterets, 314 ; last
appearance of Josephine at Hotel-
de-Ville, 316 ; Laure and Junot
go to Spain, 319; terrible jour-
ney, 322; Burgos, 323; Valla-
dolid, 324 ; Astorga, 325 ; Mas-
sena, 329 ; Ney, 331 ; Salamanca,
332 ; Ledesma, 336 ; San-Felices-
el-Grande, 337 ; Almeida on fire,
331 ; Ciudad-Rodrigo, 339-344!
Ijirth of second son, 343 ; Sala-
manca, 345 ; Toro, 347 ; escape
from brigands, 349 ; return to
France, 351 ; changes in society,
353 ; Aix-les-bains, 360 ; Geneva,
362 ; Paris, 364 ; Russian cam-
paign, alarm and forebodings,
365; return of Napoleon, 366;
letter from Junot, 367 ; machin-
ations of Savary, 368 ; successful
interview with Napoleon, 370 ;
illness, 372 ; return of Junot,
373 ; Governor of Venice and
Illyria, 376 ; friendship of
Lavalette, 378 ; death of Uuroc,
379 > Junot's illness, 380 ; con-
duct of Savary, 380 ; Geneva,
381 ; illness of Laure, 383 ; an
apparition, 383 ; death of Junot,
384 ; return to Paris, brutality of
Napoleon and Savary, 386-389 ;
life in Paris, 391 ; the falling
Fmpire, 394 ; the last triumph,
396 ; the Allies at Paris, 398 ;
the Emperor Alexander, 404-
407 ; cosmopolitan Society, 408-
412; Josephine, 412, 413; the
Emperor Alexander, 416 ; the
Dauphine of France, 417 ; Louis
XVIIL, 419; Wellington and
Metternich, 420; splendid dinner
party, 420 ; departure of Allies,
422; Ilnndred days, 422, 423;
IKDEX
457
J'cliirn of King and Allies, 423 ;
King of rorlugal's Bible, 424 ;
Stephanopoli and ihe secret
society, 425-429 ; journey to
Italy, 430; Florence, 431 ;
Italian brigands, 432, 433 ;
Rome, enchanting life, old
friends, stories of brigands, 434-
445 ; Albano, 446 ; Orgeval,
447 ; lives at Versailles, 447 ;
Paris, children, society, literary
success, 447-450 ; her death,
450
Laval, 288
Lavalette (Comte de), 378
La Malmaison, 161-177, 180-183,
184, 412, 413
Leclerc (General), 193, 194
Lenian (Lake), 363
Leipzig, battle of, 391
Louis XVIII. (King of France),
398, 418-420
Lisbon, 243
Louvre, 183
Ledesma, ^^^
Luneville (peace of), 183
Liitzen (battle of), 376
Luynes, 288
M.MK, 250
Madrid, 234, 250
Marie - Louise (Archduchess of
Austria, Empress of France, wife
of Napoleon), 326-328, 353, 361,
377. 37^^, 398.
Marengo (battle of), 277
Marmont (Duke of Ragiisa, Mar-
shal of France), 222, 349, 350,
361,, 398, 399
Massena (Prince d'Essling, Mar-
shal of France), 328-332, 339,
340, 346, 398
Mars (Mademoiselle), 183, 275
Metlernich, 392, 402, 409, 420,
432
Michau, 181, 182
Mirabeau, 5, 134
Montagne,'32, 51, 53
Montebello {see Lannes)
Mortefontaine, 266
Moscow, burning of, 365
Murat, Joachim (King of Naples),
146-148, 208, 267, 271-273, 280,
300, 367, 394
Napoleon (Buonaparte, Kmperor
of France), Ecole Militaire, 13-
16 ; Puss-in-l)oots, 16, 17 ;
Thirion, 23 ; dangers and poverty,
45 ; General livionaparle, 47 ;
Junot, 48 ; Sallicelti, 58-62 ;
frientlship with the I'ermons,
70-74; proposed marriages, 75,
76 ; quarrel, 77, 79 ; married to
Josephine, 80 ; triumphs, 85 ;
meeting with Madame I'ermon,
85 ; Napoleon and Josephine, 89,
90 ; Egj'pt, 91 ; makesjunot Com-
mandant of Paris, 104 ; marriage
of Junot, 114, 117, 118, 121 ;
Tuiieries, 133-135 ; Madame
Permon's ball, 140-143 ; the
Consular Court, 144 ; M. Charles,
145 ; Murat, 147 ; cpiarrel with
his mother and Lucien, 151;
Madame Foures, 151-155 ; at-
tempted assassination, 155, 156;
^^. de Cere, 157 ; insists on
marriage of Louis and Hortense,
164 ; Napoleon and Laure, 165-
177 ; theatricals, 177, 178 ;
Isabey, 182; Luneville, Egypt,
183, 184 ; plans for invasion of
England, 185 ; Junot, 187 ; Con-
cordat, 187, 188, 190, 192, 193 ;
tyranny and injustice, 194; a
liaison, 194, 195 ; Treaty of
Amiens, 195; 14th of July, 199;
christening, 200, 201 ; Consulate
for ten years, 202 ; dejeuner and
ball, 203-204 ; quarrels with
Junot, 210-213 ! imprisonment
of English, 217-219; murder of
Due d'Enghien, 220 ; review at
Boulogne, 222, 223 ; quarrel with
Elisa and marriage of Pauline,
224, 225 ; ijuarrels with Lucien
and Jerome, 226, 227 ; Corona-
tion 228 ; the Ambassadress to
Portugal, 230, 232 ; another
liaison, 232, 233 ; Lucca, I'arma,
and Piacenza, 248 ; war declared.
458
INDEX
24S ; Brunn, 249 ; Ulm, Aus-
terlitz, and Trafalgar, 250 ;
dislike to be considered Italian,
250 ; Colonel de Canouville,
257 ; " The inheritance of the
King, our father,'' 259-261 ;
Madame la Gouverneuse, 261-
264 ; campaign in Germany,
265-268 : quarrel of Napoleon
with Lannes, 272 ; his anger
with Junot, 277-281, 282; Fon-
tainebleau, 2S9 ; new liaison,
290; Lucien, 291-297; new
creations, 298 ; brutal cynicism,
300 ; Peninsular War, 301 ;
interview with Laure, 302-304 ;
ball at Hotel-de-Ville, 305 ;
Treaty of Cintra, 206 ; treat-
ment of Madame de Stael and
Madame Recamier, 309-312 ;
conversation with Duroc, 313 ;
treatment of Josephine, 315-317 ;
divorce, 317 ; quarrel with the
Pope, 318 ; Marie-Louise, 353,
354 ; King of Rome, 355, 356 ;
contrast between Napoleon and
the Yalois and Bourbons, 357 ;
his Polish love affair, 358, 359 ;
Count Walewski, 359 ; invasion
of Russia, 360; Russian cam-
paign, 360-365; the Kremlin,
365 ; treatment of Junot, 367 ;
grants Laure's petitions, 369-372 ;
caricatures and epigrams, 374,
375 ; German campaign, 375 ;
une ganache, 377 ; death of
Bessieres and Duroc, 379 ; ill-
treatment of Junot, 380 ; brutality
to Laure, 385 ; defeat at Leip-
zii^i 391 ; Napoleon at Saint
Cloud, 393 ; fail of the Empire,
394, 396 ; abdication of Napoleon,
402; his journey, 413, 414; the
Hundred days, 422; Waterloo,
423
Nai'IER, 298, 312
Narbonne, 353, 387, 388, 391^394
Necker, 18
Nelson, 185 ; death of, 250
Neuilly, 295, 300
Nty (Marshal of Liarce, Prince
de la Moskova), 267, 322, 324,
328, 330-332, 2>1>1, 345' 354
Office of expiation, 401, 402
Orgeval, 447
Orleans (Due d'), 5
Permox (Charles), i, 10, 23-26,
32, 68, 69, 70-71, 72,, 73
Permon (Albert), 2 ; Ecole Mili-
taire, 13; sent to England, 21;
horrors of the Revolution, 23-31 ;
Toulouse, 32-40 ; Paris, 43 ;
Salicetti, 53 ; Hotel del'Autruche,
69, 70 ; death of his father, 72 ;
poverty, 73 ; applies to Napo-
leon, 74 ; refuses to marry
Pauline Buonaparte, 78 ; death of
Cecile, 80 ; goes to Italy, 81 ;
love affair, 85 ; chauffeurs, 97-
102 ; Laura's marriage, i lO-i 13 ;
the contract, 116, 118 ; the
religious marriage, 1 20-122 ;
Mme. Permon's ball, 137-143,
189, 366 ; machinations of
Savary, 369 ; appointment given
by Napoleon, 371 ; consoles his
sister, 379, 381 ; Geneva, 382 ;
goes to ]\Iontbard to nurse Junot,
383, 384 ; returns with Laura to
Paris, 386 ; last triumph, 396 ;
lives with Laura in Paris, 398 ;
appeal to the King, 417 ; his
death, 450
Permon (Cecile), 2, 4, 17, 24 ;
school of the Demoiselles Cheva-
lier, 27, 28, 29 ; September
massacres, 30, 31 ; Toulouse, 32 ;
M.de Geouffre, 38-41 ; marriage
of Cecile, 41, 45 ; her death, 80
Perigord (Comtc de). 11, 43, 44
Pius VH., 1 28, 318, 436
Pauline Buonaparte (second sister
of Napoleon, married (1)
General Leclerc ; (2) Camillo,
Prince Borghese, Duchess of
Guastalla), Junot, 48, 76 ; her
beauty and (oily, 88 ; ball, 91-93 ;
jealousy of her sister, 94 ; spite
against Josephine, 145 ; St.
Domingo, 190-194 ; wedding
visit, 225 ; liaisons, 256-258 ;
IXDEX
459
T)urhc.-.s of ("iiiastalla, 260 ;
Neuilly, 295 ; Ai.\-Ies-1 ains, 161 ;
Smith of France, 402-414 ;
Koiiif, 4J5 ; farewell to Laure,
447
QuKi.KN (Arclibislioi) of I'aris), 450
Ramoi.ino (Livlilia, wife of
Charles Huonaparle, mother of
Naf>ole<jn), 2-13 ; I'aris, 87, 93,
94-115 ; takes the side of Lucien
against Napoleon, 151, 225 ;
consents to Jerome's marriage,
226; Madame Mere, 251-253;
reproof to Pauline Borijhese, 256,
262-263 ; Kaincy, 268 ; Ai\-les-
hains, 360, 361 ; fiitjht, 402 ;
Rome, 434 ; Alhano, 446
Kai^usa (Duke of) {sir Marmonl)
Kaincy, 266-289, 295
Rapp (General), 122, 125-127, 131,
157, 184. 298
I'vC'camier (Mailamc), 309-312, 363,
3^5-389
Rome, 432-446
Rohesjiierre (death of), 41
Rovit^o (Duke of) {see Savary)
Rufinella-villa, 441
S.WARY (Due de Roviijo), 161, 298,
3<^9. 379-3^ I > 404-405
Saint Ange (Madame de), 37-40,
41, 69
Salamanca, 338, 345, 347, 363
San-l""elices-el-(>rande, 337
Salicetti, 33, 34, 35, 37, 52, 53.
54 67
Santerre, 158
Saragossa, 308, 309
Soult (Marshal of France), 267-
312, 329, 391, 398
Suchet, 185. 203, 323, 359 4'5
Slephanopoli-Diiio, 77, 78
Stephanopoli, 425-429
St. Domingo. 1 90- 193
.Stael (Ma(lame de), 309
-St. Cloud, 211. 225, 327, 393
T.M.MA, 183, 361, 362
Tilsit, peace of, 277
Terni, 433, 434, 446
Toro, 347
Toulouse, 32, 43
Trafalgar, 250
Tusculuni, 441
Trianon yiVt' of St. Louis, 354
Ui.M, 250
\'ai.i,ai)Oi.ii), 324, 347
X'imeiro (battle of), 305
\'ersailles, 18, 19, 387, 447, 44S
Warsaw, 359
Wagram, 314, 359
Walewsky, 359
Waterloo, 423
Wellington (Duke oO, 305, 316,
359, 363. 394. 410, 420, 421
t.NWl.N UKOlUhKb, LlMirtU, lilt UKfcSHA.il I'Kfcbii, WOKl.Nii AND LU.NLio.N.
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" A pretty little romance of fourteenth-century I<" ranee, full of the
bustle of warfare, with charming pictures of mediivval life clustered
round the fortunes of a pair of noble lovers." — Pall Mall Gazette.
" \ beautiful and convincing fiction." — Dundee Advertiser.
" A singularly natural and charming sketch of the home life of
I'Vancu in the fourteenth century." — Nottingham Guardian.
London : ELLIOT STOCK.
NOV 12 1981
DATE DUE
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iBearne, Catherine Mary
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A daughter or the revolution
AA 001374 923
3 1210 00336 5374