*
 
 1 
 
 /
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 AND HER FRIENDS
 
 
 ^m ^^h
 
 MADAME R&CAMIER 
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 BY 
 
 H. NOEL WILLIAMS 
 
 " II y a dans la femme une gaiete legere qui dissipe la tristesse 
 de l'homme." — Bernardin de Saint-Pierre 
 
 WIITH PORTRAIT 
 
 LONDON AND NEW YORK 
 HARPER fc? BROTHERS 
 
 45 ALBEMARLE STREET, W. 
 1906
 
 ISAAC FOOT 
 LIBRARY 
 
 NEW AND REVISED EDITION
 
 PREFACE 
 
 There are few more interesting figures in the social life 
 of the nineteenth century than that of Madame Recamier. 
 Distinguished alike for her beauty, her virtue, her charm 
 of manner, and her goodness of heart, she reigned for 
 upwards of fifty years the almost undisputed queen of 
 Parisian society. " One cannot expect to find in future 
 times," says her friend, the Duchesse d'Abrantes, " a 
 woman like her — a woman whose friendship has been 
 courted by the most remarkable persons of the age ; a 
 woman whose beauty has brought to her feet all the men 
 who have once set eyes upon her ; whose love has been 
 the object of universal desire, yet whose virtue has 
 remained pure ; a woman whose unsullied reputation 
 never suffered from the attacks of jealousy or envy ; a 
 woman who lost none of the affections which had been 
 pledged to her, because in her days of gaiety and 
 splendour she had the merit of being always ready to 
 sacrifice her own enjoyments to afford consolation — which 
 no one could do more sweetly and effectually — to any 
 friend in distress. To the world Madame Recamier is 
 a celebrated woman ; to those who had the happiness 
 
 v b
 
 PREFACE 
 
 to know and to appreciate her she was a peculiar and 
 gifted being, formed by Nature as a perfect model in 
 one of her most beneficent moods." 
 
 One would naturally have supposed that so striking and 
 attractive a personality would have claimed no inconsider- 
 able amount of attention from English and American 
 writers ; but such is far from being the case. Although 
 frequent mention is made of her by George Ticknor, 
 Mary Berry, Maria Edgeworth, and other contemporary 
 writers, and although she has always been a favourite with 
 contributors to periodical literature, yet with the exception 
 of a short study by Madame Mohl, an intimate friend of 
 her later years (London : 1862), and an abridged transla- 
 tion by Miss Luyster of Madame Lenormant's Souvenirs 
 et Correspondance tires des papiers de Madame Recamier 
 (Boston: 1867), there is no work in our language of 
 which she is the subject. 
 
 Nor can either of these works be considered altogether 
 satisfactory. Madame Mohl's little book does not pretend 
 to be anything more than an essay — in fact it originally 
 appeared in the National Review ; while Miss Luyster's 
 translation, excellent as it is, unavoidably reproduces many 
 of the defects of the original. 
 
 Madame Lenormant's book, indeed, although it contains 
 a mass of interesting information, and must always remain 
 the chief authority for any " Life " of her celebrated aunt, 
 is not only involved and diffuse in style and faulty in con- 
 struction, but is open to the charge so frequently brought 
 against biographies written by near relatives — that of 
 
 vi
 
 PREFACE 
 
 excessive partiality ; and, in the present instance, this 
 partiality extends not only to Madame Recamier herself, 
 but to more than one of her intimate friends. 
 
 Again, at the time Madame Lenormant wrote it was 
 found impossible to include the letters written by Benjamin 
 Constant, the famous publicist and statesman, to Madame 
 Recamier — by no means the least interesting portion of 
 the latter's correspondence — owing to the opposition of 
 the Constant and Recamier families, who had gone so far 
 as to obtain an injunction restraining their publication. 
 
 These remarkable letters, of which, through the courtesy 
 of Baron d'Estournelles, I am enabled to give a selection 
 in the present volume, have since appeared, though not 
 without a further contest in the Law Courts, together 
 with Benjamin Constant's Journal Intime ; the Souvenirs 
 of the Due de Broglie ; the fMemoires of Alexis de 
 Tocqueville ; Madame Lenormant's CMadame Recamier \ 
 les Amis de sa Jeunesse, and Coppet et Weimar ; the 
 Mimoires of Madame de Remusat, and many other 
 works which contain much additional information about 
 Madame Recamier and her friends. And I am, there- 
 fore, inclined to think that the time has now come when 
 it is possible to offer to English readers something 
 approaching an adequate account of one of the most 
 remarkable among the many remarkable women of whom 
 France is justly proud. 
 
 It may possibly occasion some surprise that this volume 
 
 differs from most works of its kind, inasmuch as, although 
 
 it comprises a number of letters addressed to Madame 
 
 vii •
 
 PREFACE 
 
 Ricamier by her various distinguished friends, there are 
 very few written by herself. The explanation of this is 
 that, with the exception of those to her niece, Madame 
 Lenormant, and other members of her family, few of 
 which are of much general interest, scarcely any of 
 Madame Recamier's letters have been preserved. What 
 became of the very large number which must have been 
 written at different periods to Mathieu de Montmorency, 
 Prince Augustus of Prussia, Ballanche, Benjamin Constant, 
 and Chateaubriand is uncertain. But it is believed that 
 they were in each case returned after the death of the 
 recipient, and formed part of two bulky manuscript 
 volumes, containing Madame Recamier's own reminis- 
 cences, which she had, until her sight began to fail, 
 intended to publish, but which were destroyed by her 
 directions shortly before her death in 1849. 
 
 The absence of these letters is the more to be regretted, 
 as from the few which are in existence, and the manner in 
 which literary friends, like Madame de Stael, Ballanche, 
 and Chateaubriand, speak of those which they were 
 accustomed to receive from her, it would appear that she 
 must have been a singularly charming correspondent, even 
 in an age when letter-writing was still accounted one of 
 the fine arts. 
 
 " To compile a real account of Madame R6camier," 
 says the writer of the brief article devoted to her in the 
 Encyclopaedia Britannic a, " would necessitate the ransack 
 of all the memoirs, correspondence, and anecdotage con- 
 cerning French political and literary life for the first half 
 
 viii
 
 PREFACE 
 
 of the nineteenth century." This, it will readily be 
 admitted, is a formidable task and one requiring an 
 amount of leisure which seldom falls to an author's lot. 
 Nevertheless, this volume is the result of a more careful 
 sifting of available materials than will perhaps appear 
 upon the surface. 
 
 H. NOEL WILLIAMS. 
 London, April 1901. 
 
 IX
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 II 
 III 
 IV 
 V 
 VI 
 VII 
 VIII 
 IX 
 X 
 XI 
 XII 
 XIII 
 XIV 
 XV 
 XVI 
 XVII 
 XVIII 
 XIX 
 XX 
 XXI 
 
 Page 
 
 i 
 
 9 
 
 2 + 
 +1 
 63 
 79 
 93 
 114 
 
 132 
 156 
 
 171 
 
 184 
 197 
 214 
 228 
 
 2 39 
 261 
 
 271 
 
 286 
 
 306 
 
 32+ 
 
 XI
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 Birth and parentage — The convent of La De'serte — Juliette 
 joins her parents in Paris — A youthful escapade — Her beauty 
 as a child — A visit to Versailles — Her taste for music — A 
 marriage of convenience — Jacques Recamier and the guillo- 
 tine — A singular story 
 
 " Her angelic face can bear no other name ; one look 
 suffices to bind your heart to her for ever." 
 
 Such was the dictum pronounced by no less a person 
 than Lamartine on Madame Recamier, without a doubt 
 the most remarkable figure in French society during the 
 first half of the nineteenth century, the idol of Prince 
 Augustus of Prussia, of Mathieu de Montmorency, of 
 Simon Ballanche, and of Rene de Chateaubriand ; the 
 confidante of Moreau, Bernadotte, and Murat ; the bosom 
 friend of Madame de Stael ; about whose charms Lucien 
 Bonaparte and Benjamin Constant raved, and to whom 
 Wellington made love in his bad French. Before the throne 
 of this uncrowned queen, kings and princes, statesmen and 
 orators, authors and artists, warriors and diplomatists 
 bowed the knee, while she received their homage with an 
 easy grace and gentle dignity which commanded at once 
 their admiration and their respect. 
 
 Madame Recamier's long career falls naturally into 
 three periods, coinciding with three well-defined epochs in 
 French history. During the first and second of these —
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 that is to say, from her appearance in society after the 
 Reign of Terror to the restoration of the Bourbons in 
 1 8 14, and again from the latter date to the revolution of 
 1830 — her life is so closely connected with the politics of 
 her country that it is hardly possible to speak of her 
 without dwelling to some extent on the great events 
 which were passing around her. Like a fine silver thread, 
 as one of her contemporaries aptly observes, her career 
 runs through the web of history, and cannot be drawn 
 out without dragging some shreds of the coarser tissue 
 along with it. During the third period, which may be 
 said to cover the last eighteen years of her life, and in 
 which her most intimate friends had retired from the 
 political arena, we see her the centre of a literary coterie, 
 which recalls the salons of the reign of Louis XIV., the 
 friend and confidante of poets and philosophers, as she 
 had formerly been of diplomatists and politicians, and 
 extending her hospitality to distinguished foreigners from 
 all parts of Europe. 
 
 Although during these later years, her beauty had 
 waned, while her means were comparatively slender, the 
 extraordinary fascination she exercised over all with whom 
 3he was brought into contact remained as potent as ever, 
 and an invitation to her receptions was as much prized as 
 when half the celebrated men in France were at her feet, 
 and every luxury which money could purchase was at her 
 command. 
 
 Jeanne Franchise Julie Adelaide Bernard — to give her 
 her full name, though she was known throughout life by 
 her first nom de caresse of Juliette — was born at Lyons 
 on December 4, 1777. Her father, Jean Bernard, was a 
 notary of that city, but, beyond the fact that he was 
 extremely good-looking, he does not appear to have been
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 in any way distinguished. Her mother (whose maiden 
 name was Manton), from whom Juliette inherited that 
 bewitching loveliness and charm of manner which was to 
 secure for her a European reputation, was a singularly 
 beautiful and attractive woman, with an aptitude for 
 business most unusual in one of the gentler sex, which 
 enabled her to amass by successful speculation a snug little 
 fortune, and, what according to the younger Disraeli is 
 far harder of accomplishment, to keep it. 
 
 In 1784 Jean Bernard was, through the influence of 
 Calonne, a great admirer of the notary's handsome wife, 
 appointed a collector of customs in Paris, where he and 
 his wife henceforth resided, while their little daughter was 
 placed in the convent of La Deserte at Lyons, in which 
 community one of Madame Bernard's sisters was a nun. 
 Juliette always retained the most affectionate and grateful 
 remembrance of the days spent at the convent, as one of 
 the few fragments of her journal which have been pre- 
 served testifies : 
 
 " The night before my aunt was to fetch me," she 
 writes, " I was taken to the Lady Abbess's chamber to 
 receive her blessing. The next day, bathed in tears, I 
 passed over the threshold of that door which I could 
 scarcely remember opening to admit me. I found myself 
 in a carriage by the side of my aunt, and we started for 
 Paris. I left with regret that tranquil and innocent 
 period of my life to enter upon one of turmoil. The 
 memory of it comes back to me like a vague, sweet dream 
 with its clouds of incense, its innumerable ceremonies, its 
 processions in the gardens, its chants, and its flowers. 
 
 " If I have spoken of these early years, notwithstanding 
 my intention to be brief in all matters relating to myself, 
 it is on account of the immense influence which they have 
 
 3
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 exercised on my whole life. It is without doubt to those 
 vivid impressions of faith received in childhood that I am 
 indebted for the fact that I have retained my religious 
 convictions in the midst of all the conflicting opinions 
 which I have met with. I have listened to them, under- 
 stood them, admitted them, as far as they were admissible, 
 but I have never allowed doubt to enter my heart." 1 
 
 Juliette was about ten years of age when she joined her 
 parents in Paris, where they were living in good style, having 
 a box at the Theatre Francais, and giving supper parties 
 twice a week. The Voltairean philosopher, Simonard, 
 a great friend of the family, and his son, a little boy 
 about Juliette's own age, shared their house ; and one day 
 soon after her arrival, the latter, who seems to have been 
 somewhat of a scapegrace, persuaded her to join him in a 
 raid on a neighbour's grapes. This was by no means the 
 first time that Master Simonard had levied toll on this 
 particular garden, and on the present occasion, as ill-luck 
 would have it, the irate owner was on the watch, with the 
 result that the marauders were caught red-handed. Young 
 Simonard managed to effect his escape, but his companion 
 was less fortunate, and was taken prisoner. Her captor, 
 however, who was a very gallant old gentleman, was not 
 proof against the tears of so lovely a child ; and, instead 
 of punishing her, as she undoubtedly deserved, begged her 
 to cry no more, promised to say nothing about her escapade 
 to her parents, and sent her home with her pinafore full 
 of fruit. 
 
 Indeed, even at this early age, Juliette seems to have 
 been remarkable for her beauty and grace, and became the 
 pet of La Harpe and other literary men who frequented 
 the Bernards' house ; and to this fact may be attributed 
 
 1 Souvenirs, i. z. 
 4-
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 her taste for literary society, to which she is in no small 
 degree indebted for her lasting celebrity. Her mother, 
 who appears to have attached an extraordinary importance 
 to the power of personal attraction, compelled the poor 
 child to spend many weary hours at her toilet table, and 
 allowed no opportunity to slip of exhibiting her little 
 daughter's budding charms to the admiring eyes of the 
 Parisians. 
 
 At that time the unfortunate Louis XVI. was already 
 the slave of his people, and was ready to make almost any 
 sacrifice to please his capricious subjects and bolster up his 
 tottering throne. The public were even admitted to the 
 dining-room at Versailles, to stare at the royal family 
 taking their meals with all the ceremonial of the ancient 
 monarchy. On one occasion Madame Bernard and 
 Juliette entered among the crowd, and Marie Antoinette 
 was so struck with the child's beauty, that after dinner 
 she sent one of her ladies to the proud mother with a 
 request that she would allow her daughter to go to the 
 queen's apartments, where Juliette and the little Madame 
 Royale, who happened to be both about the same age, 
 were measured to see which was the tallest. The dignity 
 of the little princess is said to have been somewhat ruffled 
 at being compared with a child who had, as she expressed 
 it, " been taken from the rabble." 
 
 Although Madame Bernard paid so much attention to 
 her child's personal appearance, she was far from neglecting 
 her education, and indeed supervised her studies with the 
 greatest care. Juliette had a very decided taste for music, 
 and received instruction from the first masters of the day. 
 She performed on both the harp and the piano, and took 
 singing lessons from Bo'ieldieu. Her voice, we learn, 
 though lacking in power, was good in tone and expression. 
 
 5
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 She soon gave up singing and the harp, but remained all her 
 life devoted to the piano. Her memory was excellent, and 
 she was fond of playing without notes at twilight. Thus 
 when her sight began to fail, as it did about ten years 
 before her death, she was still able to enjoy music, and by 
 its aid console herself for the loss of other pleasures. 
 
 She was also a most accomplished and graceful dancer, 
 and it must have been worth going a long way to see her 
 perform her shawl dance, which served her friend Madame 
 de Stael as a model for the dance in Corinne. 
 
 "One day during the sad winter of 1 8 12-13, which she 
 passed as an exile at Lyons," says Madame Lenormant, her 
 niece and adopted daughter, " she gave me an idea of this 
 dance in order to drive away her ennui, and also, no doubt, 
 to recall the memory of other days. With a long scarf in her 
 hand, she went through all the different attitudes wherein 
 the light fabric becomes in turn a girdle, a veil, and a 
 drapery. Nothing could be more graceful, more becoming, 
 or more picturesque than this succession of harmonious 
 poses, worthy to be perpetuated by the pencil of an artist." 1 
 
 At the age of fifteen, Juliette received an offer of 
 marriage. Her suitor was a wealthy Paris banker named 
 Jacques Recamier, who, like the Bernards themselves, came 
 originally from Lyons, where his father had formerly 
 carried on a highly lucrative business in the hat trade. 
 Jacques Recamier was a handsome, pleasure-loving man of 
 forty-three, generous to a fault, and, at the same time, 
 oddly enough, quite incapable of any deep feeling. One 
 day, we are told, he would lend a friend money to almost 
 any amount ; the next, if the same friend happened to die, 
 he would coolly murmur, " Another drawer shut ! " and 
 straightway forget all about him. 
 
 1 Souvenirs, i. 1 8. 
 6
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 Juliette seems to have received her middle-aged suitor's 
 addresses without reluctance. She had known him for 
 several years ; he had always been exceedingly kind to 
 her when a child, and she was indebted to him for many 
 of her most costly toys and most gorgeously attired dolls. 
 She felt quite sure in her own mind that he would prove 
 equally indulgent as a husband ; and so, after a little 
 hesitation, she consented to become his wife. 
 
 The banker, on his part, seems to have regarded the 
 lovely young girl mainly in the light of a daughter, whose 
 beauty refreshed his eyes, while the admiration it excited 
 among his friends and neighbours flattered his vanity. 
 ("// voulut par son mariage eblouir et eclipser le monde 
 dans lequel il vivait" says Rondelet. 1 ) Moreover the tie 
 which bound them to each other was never anything but 
 a nominal one. 
 
 The wedding took place in the month of April 1793 ; 
 scarcely a time, one would have supposed, for marryingljor 
 giving in marriage, ihe Reign of Terror was at its 
 height ; all society was broken up and scattered to the 
 four winds of heaven, and all family ties annihilated. 
 People saw their relatives and friends being dragged to 
 the block, themselves living in hourly dread of a similar 
 fate, and were yet too paralysed by fear to resist the 
 tyranny of the executioners. 
 
 Jacques Recamier used to go almost every day to the 
 Place-de la-Concorde to watch the guillotine being fed 
 with human prey beneath a colossal statue of Liberty, 
 according to his own account, in order to accustom him- 
 self to the fate which he had every reason to expect would 
 soon be his own, but more probably because such gruesome 
 scenes had a peculiar fascination for him, as they had had 
 
 1 Rondelet's Madame Recamier ■, p. 10. 
 7
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 for George Selwyn. He was present at the execution of 
 the King ; he saw the fair head of Marie Antoinette fall 
 into the fatal basket, and nearly all the men with whom 
 he had been intimate in business or society guillotined one 
 after the other ; but he himself, his wife, and her family 
 were spared, chiefly, it is believed, through the influence 
 of Barere, one of the leaders of the Terrorists, who was a 
 great friend of the Bernards. Jean Bernard, it may be 
 remarked, was probably the only receveur des finances of 
 Louis XVI. who escaped the guillotine. 
 
 The fact of Juliette's marriage taking place at such a 
 time, and the peculiar relations which were known to 
 exist between her and her husband, gave rise to a very 
 singular story, which, extravagant as it may seem, found 
 credence among a great number of Madame Recamier's 
 contemporaries. 
 
 It was asserted that Juliette was in reality Jacques 
 Recamier's own child, and that his object in marrying her 
 was to ensure her possession of his fortune in the not 
 unlikely event of the guillotine claiming him as one of its 
 victims. 
 
 Into the merits of this story we do not propose to 
 enter, and it will, therefore, be sufficient to observe that 
 the reputation which the fascinating Madame Bernard 
 bore — both Calonne and Barere are said to have been her 
 lovers — was not of a kind to entirely preclude such a 
 possibility ; and that the fact that no mention is made of 
 the civil marriage, performed in 1793, being supple- 
 mented by a religious ceremony when the churches were 
 re-opened — a practice which was general among all respect- 
 able people — is in itself somewhat significant, the more so 
 as Madame Recamier was throughout her life a strict 
 observer of the ritual of her Church*
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 Paris after the Reign of Terror — Madame Recamier's extra- 
 ordinary beauty — Sensation it arouses — The quete at St. 
 Roch — Fete at the Luxembourg in honour of Bonaparte — 
 Dinner given by Barras — Madame Recamier meets Madame 
 de Stael — Purchase of Necker's house in the Rue du Mont 
 Blanc — Mary Berry's description of it — Lucien Bonaparte's 
 f§te — "The First Consul thinks you charming" — Lucien 
 Bonaparte — His great abilities — His passion for Madame 
 Recamier — Letters of Romeo to Juliette — Juliette rejects 
 Romeo 
 
 Owing to the disturbed condition of Paris, the first four 
 years of Juliette's married life were necessarily passed in 
 comparative seclusion, for during that terrible time retire- 
 ment and insignificance afforded the only sure means of 
 safety, and most people preferred to forego social functions 
 and remain at home rather than run the risk of attracting 
 the notice of the bloodthirsty Comite de Salut Tublic. 
 
 But at length the Terror came to an end, and the work 
 of order and reconstruction began. The exiles, or at least 
 such of them as had not committed themselves beyond 
 hope of reprieve, and were prepared to conform, outwardly 
 at all events, to the new order of things, returned ; the 
 commercial magnates emerged from their retirement ; the 
 prison doors were opened ; and the Parisians, incorrigible 
 in their frivolity, threw themselves with a zest sharpened 
 by the privations of terror, war, and famine, into a perfect
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 vortex of pleasure, crowded once more to the theatre, the 
 promenade, and the ball-room, and danced, and gambled, 
 and flirted as if none of them had lost a friend or a relative 
 for years. 
 
 It was now that Juliette Recamier began to cause that 
 sensation which was to give her, in after years, such an 
 extraordinary influence over French society. During this 
 period of retirement her beauty had ripened, and she had 
 passed from childhood into all the splendour of woman- 
 hood. The following description, from the pen of 
 Madame Lenormant, of her appearance about this time 
 does not seem, even after making all due allowance for the 
 fact that the writer was both her niece and most enthusi- 
 astic admirer, to be in any way an exaggerated one : 
 
 " A figure supple and graceful ; throat and shoulders of 
 exquisite form and proportions ; beautiful arms though 
 somewhat slender ; a little rosy mouth ; pearly teeth ; 
 black hair that curled naturally ; a delicate and regular 
 nose, but bien-fran$ais ; an incomparable brilliancy of 
 complexion ; a frank, arch face, rendered irresistibly lovely 
 from its expression of goodness ; a well poised head ; a 
 carriage slightly indicative of both indolence and pride, so 
 that to her might be applied St. Simon's compliment to 
 the Duchess of Burgundy : 
 
 " Her step was like that of a goddess on clouds." 
 
 Such was Madame Recamier at eighteen." 
 
 The success of a woman did not then depend on the 
 verdict of an exclusive society. The Revolution had 
 changed all that. Salon life no longer existed. The 
 finest houses in the Faubourg St. Germain might have 
 been hired for almost nothing ; the whole Hotel de Luynes 
 was rented at only six hundred francs a year, for people's
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 purses were as empty as the national exchequer. A few 
 bankers and contractors, whom the war had enriched, 
 were, indeed, the only persons who had houses fit for the 
 reception of company ; and the only places where the 
 beauty and fashion of the new society could show itself 
 were in the Tuileries grounds during the day, and, at night, 
 at the theatres and the subscription balls, held at illumi- 
 nated gardens like Tivoli and Beaujon, where any one 
 might go for three francs, and take a lady for one franc 
 more. At such gatherings as these Madame Recamier's 
 presence was looked upon as an event of no small impor- 
 tance, and, wherever she went, her beauty called forth 
 murmurs of curiosity and admiration. 
 
 On one occasion, after public worship had been re- 
 established, she was asked to hold the plate at St. Roch 
 for some charitable quite. She consented, and knelt, as 
 was usual, in the middle of the church. When the time 
 came for the collection to be made, the church was filled 
 to overflowing ; the people stood on the chairs, the 
 benches, and even the altars of the side-chapels, and 
 hustled one another unmercifully to catch a glimpse or 
 the lovely queteuse : indeed, the two gentlemen, who had, 
 according to custom, been deputed to protect her, had all 
 their work cut out to prevent her being crushed to death 
 by her too enthusiastic admirers. The sum collected 
 amounted to something like twenty thousand francs, an 
 immense sum having regard to the state of people's 
 fortunes at this period. 
 
 On December 10, 1797, the Directory gave a fe"te in 
 honour of Bonaparte, who had just returned from his 
 victorious Italian campaign. It was held in the great 
 court of the Luxembourg, where a statue of Liberty had 
 been erected, at the foot of which sat the five Directors, 
 
 11
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 habited in Roman costume, with short togas and bare legs, 
 a garb which they must have found somewhat trying on a 
 cold winter's day. The ministers, ambassadors, and public 
 functionaries occupied benches placed in the form of an 
 amphitheatre, and behind them were the reserved seats for 
 the invited guests, amongst whom were Madame Recamier 
 and her mother. All the front windows of the building, 
 the court, the garden, and the adjacent streets were 
 thronged with people. 
 
 Talleyrand, who was Minister for Foreign Affairs, read 
 to the future Emperor an address of congratulation, and 
 Bonaparte replied in a characteristic speech, brief and 
 forcible, which was, of course, loudly acclaimed. Madame 
 Recamier, who could not from where she sat distinguish 
 the features of the hero of the occasion, took advantage 
 of the moment when Barras was replying to the general 
 to rise from her seat in order to obtain a better view 
 of him. The crowd, who had hitherto had no eyes for 
 any one but Bonaparte, immediately turned to admire the 
 beauty of the day, and a low murmur of admiration ran 
 round the court. This sound did not escape Bonaparte, 
 who glanced about him to see who it was who could 
 possibly be diverting attention from himself ; and when 
 he perceived a young woman, dressed in white, standing 
 on a bench, he bent upon her one of his terrible frowns, 
 and the careless young beauty sat down crimson with 
 confusion. Thus, at the very outset of her career, 
 Madame Recamier had the satisfaction of rivalling the 
 conqueror of Europe himself in popular admiration. 
 
 In the summer of 1796, Jacques Recamier rented a 
 furnished chateau at Clichy, where he established his young 
 wife and her mother. He himself remained in Paris, but 
 drove out every day to Clichy to dinner. The chateau 
 
 12
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 was large and beautifully situated in a wooded park which 
 sloped down to the banks of the Seine, and here the 
 Recamiers kept open house, and every Sunday gave a large 
 dinner party to their more intimate friends. 
 
 Madame Recamier mingled but little in the very mixed 
 society of the Directory. She was, however, present, in 
 the spring of 1799, at a reception at the Luxembourg 
 given by Barras, who since the affair of the 1 8th Fructidor 
 had been practically dictator of France, at which her host 
 paid her marked attention, and the poet Despaze, who 
 was among the guests, improvised a quatrain in her 
 honour. 
 
 Madame Recamier took advantage of the favourable 
 impression she had created to intercede with the Director 
 on behalf of a poor priest, whose release she desired to 
 obtain ; and Barras, who never could refuse anything 
 to a pretty woman despite the poor opinion which he 
 professed to entertain for the sex, granted her request. 
 Poverty and misfortune always had for Madame Recamier 
 the same attractions which wealth and prosperity have for 
 the ordinary run of mortals, and this was only one of 
 many instances in which she used the influence which her 
 beauty and popularity gave her to promote the happiness 
 of her less favoured fellow-creatures. 
 
 As Jacques Recamier's fortune and the fame of his 
 wife's beauty increased, he found his town house in the 
 Rue du Mail too small for his requirements, and hearing 
 that Necker, with whom he had long had business relations, 
 was desirous of selling his hotel in the Rue du Mont 
 Blanc (now the Chaussee d'Antin), he entered into nego- 
 tiations for its purchase. It was this transaction which 
 was the means of bringing Madame Recamier and Necker's 
 famous daughter, Madame de Stael, together, and was 
 
 13
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 the beginning of a friendship which lasted until the death 
 of the brilliant authoress of Corinne and De V Allemagne, 
 who seems to have been completely fascinated by the fresh 
 young beauty whose attractions were so different to her 
 own. Madame Recamier has left us an interesting account 
 of this first meeting, which took place at the Recamiers* 
 chateau at Clichy. 
 
 " One day, and that marks an epoch in my life," she 
 says, " M. Recamier arrived at Clichy with a lady whom 
 he did not introduce by name, and whom he left alone 
 with me in the salon, while he went to join some people 
 who were in the park. This lady came about the sale of 
 a house. Her costume was peculiar ; she wore a morning 
 gown and a little dress hat trimmed with flowers. I took 
 her for a foreigner. I was struck with the beauty of her 
 eyes and her expression. I was unable to analyse my 
 feelings, but I am sure that I was thinking more of finding 
 out, or rather guessing, who she was than of addressing to 
 her the usual commonplaces, when she said to me, with 
 an air at once charming and impressive, that ' she was 
 truly delighted to make my acquaintance ; that her father 
 M. Necker ' — at these words I recognised Madame de 
 Stael. I did not hear the rest of her sentence. I blushed 
 and was extremely embarrassed. I had just been reading 
 her Lettres sur Rousseau^ in the perusal of which I was 
 intensely interested. My looks were more expressive 
 than my words ; she both awed and attracted me. I was 
 conscious at once of her genuineness and her superiority. 
 She, on her side, fixed her splendid eyes upon me, but 
 with a friendly scrutiny, and paid me some compliments 
 on my appearance that would have been too exaggerated 
 and direct had they not seemed to escape her unconsciously, 
 thus giving to her praises an irresistible fascination. My
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 embarrassment did me no harm ; she understood it, and 
 expressed the hope of seeing a great deal of me on her 
 return to Paris, for she was on the point of starting for 
 Coppet. This interview was only a passing one, but it 
 left a deep impression upon me. I thought only of 
 Madame de Stael, so much did I feel the influence of that 
 strong and earnest personality." 1 
 
 The arrangements for the purchase of the hotel in the 
 Rue du Mont Blanc having been completed, Jacques 
 Recamier put it into the hands of Berthaut, the architect, 
 with directions to have it enlarged and furnished in the 
 Greek style, then so fashionable. Berthaut, who was 
 allowed carte blanche in the matter of expense, acquitted 
 himself with admirable taste, and, as since the Revolution 
 luxury had almost disappeared, the house became one of 
 the sights of Paris. From all accounts, however, it would 
 seem to have been simplicity itself compared with the 
 prodigal magnificence of later years. Of this house Mary 
 Berry, who was in Paris during the Peace of Amiens, gives 
 the following description : 
 
 " Went to the house of Madame Recamier. We were 
 resolved not to leave Paris without seeing what is called 
 the most elegant house in it, fitted up in the new style. 
 There are no large rooms nor a great many of them ; but 
 it is certainly fitted up with all the recherche and expense 
 possible in what is called le gout antique. But the 
 candelabra, pendules, &c, though exquisitely finished, 
 are in that sort of minute frittered style which I think so 
 much less noble than that of fifteen or twenty years ago. 
 All the chairs are mahogany, enriched with ormolu, and 
 covered either with cloth or silk ; those in the salon 
 trimmed with flat gold lace in good taste. Her bed is 
 
 1 Souvenirs, i. 24. 
 *S
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 reckoned the most beautiful in Paris : it, too, is of 
 mahogany, enriched with ormolu and bronze, and raised 
 upon two steps of the same wood. Over the whole bed 
 was thrown a coverlid or veil of fine plain muslin, with 
 rows of narrow gold lace at each end, and the muslin 
 embroidered as a border. The curtains were muslin, 
 trimmed like the coverlid, suspended from a sort of carved 
 couronne des roses, and tucked up in drapery upon the wall 
 against which the bed stood. At the foot of the bed stood 
 a fine Grecian lamp of ormolu, with a little figure of the 
 same metal bending over it, and at the head of the bed 
 another stand upon which was placed a large ornamental 
 flower-pot, containing a large artificial rose-tree, the 
 branches of which must nod very near her nose, in bed. 
 Out of this bedroom is a beautiful little salle-de-bain. 
 The walls are inlaid with satin-wood, and mahogany, and 
 slight arabesque patterns in black upon satin-wood. The 
 bath presents itself as a sofa in a recess, covered with 
 a cushion of scarlet cloth, embroidered and laced with 
 black. Beyond this again is a very little boudoir, lined 
 with quilted pea-green lustring, drawn together in a bunch 
 in the middle of the ceiling." 1 
 
 The winter which followed the coup d'etat of the 18 th 
 Brumaire, in which the last remnants of the Republican 
 institutions were swept away, and the thin end of the 
 wedge of despotism firmly inserted in the Constitution, was 
 a very brilliant one in Paris. Balls, f£tes, receptions, 
 amusements of all kinds increased in number in proportion 
 to the growing indifference of the people to liberty and 
 all the great objects for which so much of the best blood 
 in France had been shed. The Bonapartists, knowing full 
 well that when the public mind is wholly given up to 
 
 1 Miss Berry's "Journal and Correspondence," i. 191. 
 
 10
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 pleasure it is but little disposed to concern itself with the 
 working of political institutions, did all in their power to 
 encourage the prevailing love of gaiety, and themselves 
 entertained in a style to which the Parisians had long been 
 strangers. It was in pursuance of this policy that Lucien 
 Bonaparte, who had lately been appointed Minister of the 
 Interior, gave a grand fete in honour of the First Consul, to 
 which Jacques Recamier and his young wife were invited. 
 It was here that Madame Recamier met, for the first and 
 only time in her life, the man who was to exercise so 
 sinister an influence on her own fortunes and those of her 
 friends. 
 
 On this occasion Madame Recamier wore a white satin 
 gown, with a necklace and bracelets of pearls. She always 
 had, it appears, a very decided preference for white, and 
 wore it at all seasons, varying only its material, shape, and 
 trimmings. In like manner, she preferred pearls, of which 
 she possessed some splendid specimens, to all other jewels, 
 and even in the time of her husband's greatest prosperity 
 never wore diamonds. Perhaps, as Madame Lenormant 
 observes, she experienced a certain feminine satisfaction in 
 surrounding herself with objects whose dazzling whiteness 
 was eclipsed by the brilliancy of her own complexion. 
 
 Soon after her arrival, and while she was talking with 
 her hostess, Madame Bacciochi, who, owing to the indis- 
 position of Lucien's wife, was doing the honours, she 
 noticed a gentleman standing by the fireplace in the salon. 
 In the dim light she took him for Joseph Bonaparte, 
 whom she had frequently met at the house of their 
 common friend, Madame de Stael, and bowed pleasantly 
 to him. Her greeting was returned, but with a faint 
 expression of surprise, and, the next moment, she was 
 conscious of her mistake, and that she had been bowing to 
 
 17 B
 
 MADAME RECAM1ER 
 
 the First Consul. Her impression of him was very 
 different from the one which she had received at the 
 Luxembourg two years before ; and she was struck with 
 the simplicity of his manners and his pleasant expression. 
 Presently Napoleon beckoned Fouche to his side, and said 
 a few words to him, looking at Madame Recamier mean- 
 while, and making it evident that he was talking about 
 her. Shortly afterwards Fouche came behind her chair, 
 and whispered, " The First Consul thinks you charming." 
 
 Madame Recamier would have been more than human 
 if she had not felt a thrill of gratification at receiving this 
 tribute to her charms from the man whose name was on 
 every one's lips, and a little incident which occurred later 
 in the evening still further disposed her to judge him 
 favourably. 
 
 While he was talking to the flatterers who surrounded 
 him, he held the hand of Lucien's little daughter, a child 
 of four years old. He had unintentionally ignored her 
 presence until the child, tired of her captivity, began to 
 cry, whereupon Bonaparte exclaimed, in a tone of tender 
 regret, " Ah, pauvre petite, I had forgotten thee ! " More 
 than once in after years, Madame Recamier recalled this 
 excess of apparent kindheartedness, and contrasted it with 
 the harshness of his treatment of herself and others. 
 
 When dinner was announced, Napoleon rose, and led 
 the way into the dining-room without offering his arm to 
 any lady. The guests followed, and seated themselves 
 almost without regard to order. Bonaparte himself sat at 
 the middle of the table, with his mother, Madame Letitia 
 (" Madame Mere," as she was afterwards called), on his 
 right. On his left a place remained vacant, which no one 
 presumed to occupy. Madame Recamier, to whom her 
 hostess, as they were passing into the dining-room, had 
 
 18
 
 AND HER FR1E;NDS 
 
 said a few words the meaning of which she had failed to 
 grasp, took a seat on the same side of the table as the First 
 Consul, but at some distance from him. Napoleon then 
 turned angrily towards the persons still standing, and said 
 brusquely to Garat, the famous singer, pointing to the 
 vacant place at his side, " Come, Garat, sit down there ! ' 
 At the same moment, Cambaceres, the Second Consul, seated 
 himself next to Madame Recamier, whereupon Napoleon 
 remarked, loud enough to be heard by every one in the 
 room, M Ha ! ha ! Citizen Consul, next to the prettiest." 
 
 Dinner was soon over. Bonaparte ate very little and very 
 fast; and at the end of half an hour rose from the table and 
 left the room. Most of the guests rose too, and, in the com- 
 motion which ensued, he came up to Madame Recamier, 
 and asked : " Why did you not sit next to me at dinner ?" 
 
 " I should not have presumed to do so," she replied. 
 
 " It was your place," rejoined Bonaparte. 
 
 " That was what I said to you before dinner," added 
 Madame Bacciochi, who was standing by. 
 
 A move was presently made for the music-room, where 
 the ladies formed a circle facing the performers, while the 
 men stood behind them. Bonaparte sat near the piano in 
 solitary state. Garat sang, with admirable expression, a 
 passage from Gluck, which was loudly applauded. After 
 this several artistes played. Bonaparte, however, did not 
 care for instrumental music, and after a piece played by 
 Jadin, his patience was exhausted, and he began to thump 
 the piano, calling out " Garat ! Garat ! " This summons 
 could not but be obeyed, and Garat sang a song from 
 Orpheus, and surpassed himself. 
 
 Madame Recamier, who was devoted to music, was so 
 fascinated by Garat's wonderful singing that she paid but 
 little attention to the crowd which thronged the rooms. 
 
 «9
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 Whenever she raised her eyes, however, she found those 
 of Bonaparte fixed upon her with a persistency which 
 ended by making her decidedly uncomfortable. When 
 the concert was over he approached her, and remarked, 
 " You are very fond of music, madame." He seemed 
 disposed to continue the conversation, but Lucien coming 
 up, Napoleon moved away, and Madame R6camier returned 
 home. This meeting was not without important con- 
 sequences to our heroine, as will presently be related. 
 
 Lucien Bonaparte, who thus interrupted what might 
 have proved a very interesting conversation, was at this 
 time four-and-twenty, taller and altogether of finer 
 physique than his brother, whom he resembled in appear- 
 ance, though his features were not so strongly marked as 
 those of Napoleon. Lucien was, of course, quite over- 
 shadowed by the fame of the First Consul, but he was, 
 nevertheless, for his years, an exceptionally able man : 
 indeed, the Revolution, the mother of so many precocious 
 statesmen, produced none more brilliant than the second 
 brother of Napoleon. An eloquent and powerful speaker, 
 with an indomitable resolution which refused to yield a 
 single inch to popular clamour, he rapidly made his mark 
 in the Council of Five Hundred, to which he had been 
 elected in 1798, and in the following year, a few weeks 
 before the coup cCtiat of the 1 8 th Brumaire, he became its 
 President. On that eventful day, when the timidity of 
 Sieves and the ill-timed interference of Napoleon threat- 
 ened to ruin all the plans of the conspirators, it was Lucien 
 who stepped into the breach, and, by his coolness, prompti- 
 tude, and courage, saved the Bonapartists from inevitable 
 destruction. 
 
 A cynic has observed that however wisely and prudently 
 
 20
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 a man may behave in the ordinary affairs of life, in 
 diplomacy, in finance, or in politics, in affairs of the heart 
 he is just as prone to make himself supremely ridiculous 
 as the most brainless of his sex ; and Lucien Bonaparte's 
 relations with Madame Recamier afford a remarkable 
 illustration of the truth of this axiom. He had met her 
 for the first time, some months before, at a dinner party 
 given by M. Sapey at Bagatelle, and had at once fallen 
 desperately in love with her. Unfortunately for the 
 object of his passion, he made not the least attempt to 
 disguise the state of his feelings, which in consequence 
 speedily became the talk of Paris. 
 
 Lucien opened the siege of Madame Recamier's heart 
 with a bombardment of billets-doux, couched in the most 
 grandiloquent language, in which the writer assumed the 
 name of Romeo, presumably because hers was Juliette. 
 Of these romantic epistles, the following will serve as a 
 specimen : 
 
 "LETTERS OF ROMEO TO JULIETTE 
 
 " By the Author of the Indian Tribe 
 
 "* Without love life is one long slumber' 
 
 " What, more love letters ! ! ! Since those of St. Preux 
 and Heloi'se, how many have appeared ! . . . how many 
 painters have striven to copy that inimitable masterpiece. 
 It is the Venus de Medicis, which a thousand artists have 
 essayed in vain to equal. 
 
 " These letters are not the fruit of long labour, and I do 
 not dedicate them to immortality. They are not the 
 offspring of eloquence or of genius, but of the most 
 sincere passion. They are not written for the public, but 
 for a beloved woman. They reveal my heart : it is a 
 faithful glass, wherein to behold myself is a never-ending 
 
 21
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 delight. My letters express my feelings, and in giving 
 expression to those feelings I am happy. May these letters 
 interest her for whom I write. May she hearken to my 
 entreaties. May she, with pleasure, recognise herself in 
 the portrait of Juliette, and think of Romeo with that 
 delicious agitation which proclaims the dawn of love." 
 
 First Letter of Romeo to Juliette. 
 
 " Romeo writes to you, Juliette. If you refuse to read it 
 you will be more cruel than our parents, whose long 
 quarrels have just been settled. Doubtless these dreadful 
 quarrels will not be renewed. 
 
 " A few days ago I knew you only by reputation. I had 
 seen you sometimes at churches and fetes. I knew that 
 you were the most beautiful of women. A thousand 
 tongues repeated your praises, but these praises and your 
 charms had struck without dazzling me. Why has peace 
 delivered me into your power ? Peace ... it now exists 
 between our families, but trouble reigns in my heart. 
 
 • •'••• 
 
 " I have seen you again ! Love seemed to smile upon 
 me. Seated on a round bench I spoke with you alone. I 
 thought I heard a sigh escape from your bosom. Vain 
 illusion ! Convinced of my mistake, I beheld indifference 
 with a tranquil brow seated between us. The passion 
 which masters me is expressed in my speech, but yours 
 bears the kind and cruel impress of raillery. 
 
 " O Juliette ! Life without love is only one long 
 slumber. The most beautiful of women ought to be 
 compassionate : happy the man who will become the friend 
 of your heart ! " 
 
 Poor Romeo must have felt extremely foolish when his 
 
 22
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 Juliette handed him back his first love-letter, in the 
 presence of a number of common friends, praising the 
 talents of the writer, but advising him not to waste in 
 works of imagination the time which he might more 
 profitably devote to politics. 1 However, he was not the 
 man to be discouraged by the want of success which had 
 attended his romantic epistles ; and so, abandoning his 
 nom-de-guerre^ he wrote Madame Recamier letters the 
 purport of which she could not pretend to misunderstand. 
 These she showed to her husband, and proposed to forbid 
 Lucien the house. But Recamier represented to her that 
 to quarrel openly with the brother of the First Consul 
 would undoubtedly compromise him, and, perhaps, 
 jeopardise his business, and advised her not to repulse 
 Romeo too harshly. So, for her husband's sake, she bore, 
 with more or less patience, the importunities of the 
 infatuated young man, meeting his most impassioned 
 declarations with peals of merry laughter, but was, never- 
 theless, greatly relieved when, tired of so unsuccessful 
 a pursuit, his ardour cooled, and at length, becoming 
 conscious of the ridiculous part he was playing, he left her 
 in peace. Some months later, he sent his friend M. Sapey 
 to ask Madame Recamier to return his letters ; but the 
 lady very wisely refused to give them up in spite of 
 entreaties and even threats ; and Madame Lenormant 
 tells us that she, in her turn, preserved them " as indisput- 
 able proofs of her (Madame Recamier's) virtue." 2 
 
 1 Some little time after this, at the begrnning of the Peace of Amiens, 
 Lucien retaliated rather neatly on Madame Recamier for thus turning 
 him into ridicule. At a supper given by Ouvrard, the financier, he 
 raised his glass to toast the most beautiful of women. When all eyes 
 were turned towards Madame Recamier, undeterred by her embarrass- 
 ment, he exclaimed : " Eh, bien, messieurs, c'est la Paix." 
 
 2 Souvenirs^ i. 34. 
 
 23
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 Popularity of Madame Recamier's receptions — Her friends — 
 Adrien de Montmorency — Mathieu de Montmorency — His 
 early career — His conversion — His unselfish affection for 
 Madame Recamier — His letters — La Harpe — Madame 
 Recamier's kindness to him — His unfortunate marriage — 
 Practical joke played upon him at Clichy — Madame Re- 
 camier sits to David for her portrait — And to Gerard — 
 Amusing incident during the sittings — Madame Recamier's 
 father becomes Postmaster-General — He intrigues with the 
 Royalists, and is arrested — An interrupted dinner-party — 
 Bernadotte intercedes with the First Consul — Madame 
 Recamier's adventure in the Temple — A friend in need — 
 Her father is released 
 
 Jacques Recamier's position as a wealthy banker gave 
 him in those days a position which he, of course, could 
 not have occupied under the old regime, and his wife's 
 renown as a beauty, and the fact that her salon was 
 regarded as a sort of neutral ground, where all parties 
 might meet, added to the popularity of her receptions, 
 and their hotel in the Rue du Mont Blanc became the 
 rendezvous for all that was most distinguished in social, 
 political, and literary circles. There the Due de Guignes, 
 Adrien and Mathieu de Montmorency, Christian de 
 Lemoignon, Louis de Narbonne, La Harpe, Madame de 
 Stael, and others of the returned exiles rubbed shoulders 
 with Barere and Fouche, the Terrorists ; Murat, Massena, 
 
 H
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 and Moreau, and the generals of the late war ; Lucien and 
 Joseph Bonaparte and their sisters ; and Eugene and 
 Hortense Beauharnais; while many distinguished foreigners 
 came to pay homage to the most charming hostess in 
 Paris. 
 
 With the two Montmorencies Madame R6camier was 
 on especially friendly terms. They were cousins and 
 great friends. Both had recently been struck off the list 
 of emigres. The youngest, Adrien, afterwards Due de 
 Laval, was then about thirty years of age. He was widely 
 read, and might have passed for a wit, but for an impedi- 
 ment in his speech. With his old-world manner and 
 lofty ideas of honour he was an admirable representative 
 of the old noblesse, and his veneration for the family of 
 which he was the head amounted almost to idolatry. 
 When his son died, he is said to have suffered as keenly 
 from his pride of race as from his affection as a 
 father. After the Restoration, he entered the diplomatic 
 service, and represented his country with credit, if 
 not with distinction, at Madrid, Rome, Vienna, and 
 London. 
 
 His cousin, Mathieu, afterwards Due de Montmorency, 
 was a much abler man, and altogether a more interesting 
 character. He was born in 1760, and, when little more 
 than a boy, accompanied Lafayette to America, serving 
 with the Auvergne regiment, of which his father was at 
 that time colonel. He was an intimate friend of Madame 
 de Stael, and belonged to that small class among the 
 French aristocracy which had embraced liberal ideas. It 
 was, indeed, on a motion brought forward by Mathieu de 
 Montmorency, then deputy to the States-General, that the 
 National Assembly abolished, on the night of the Fourth 
 of August, the privileges of the nobility — privileges which 
 
 25
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 he, as a Montmorency, was, of course, vitally interested 
 in maintaining. 
 
 In 1792, he emigrated to Switzerland, as by that time 
 France had got too hot to hold even so ardent a disciple 
 of progress as himself, and while there learned that his 
 brother, the Abbe de Laval, to whom he was most 
 devotedly attached, had been guillotined. Mathieu was 
 inconsolable at his brother's death, of which, mindful of 
 the part he had taken in promoting the Revolution, he 
 accused himself of being the cause. From that moment 
 he was a changed man, and, whereas he had hitherto led a 
 gay and dissipated life, he now became, under the influence 
 of Madame de Stael, an austere and fervent Christian. 
 
 Between Mathieu and Madame Recamier the most 
 perfect sympathy always existed ; indeed, his pure and 
 unselfish affection for her is, perhaps, the most interesting 
 phase of the early part of her life. He was quick to 
 perceive the temptations to which a young and lovely 
 woman, whom destiny had precluded from the natural 
 affections of a wife and a mother, must necessarily be 
 exposed, and, accordingly, did his utmost to impress her 
 with his own religious convictions, the while he watched 
 over her with a more than paternal solicitude. Mathieu 
 de Montmorency's letters are a rare example of a love 
 whose purity is equal to its sincerity. 
 
 Mathieu de Montmorency to Madame Recamier. 
 
 " How charmingly you know how to express your 
 
 sentiments, and how charming those sentiments are ! 
 
 What balm you know how to apply to the wounds that, 
 
 in another way, you inflict upon a sincere friend ! Ah, 
 
 madame, you regard and estimate me with the prejudices 
 
 26
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 of the most kind and indulgent of natures, which, in fact, 
 leads you to set too high a value upon my merits instead 
 of judging me impartially. But, in your eyes, I am willing 
 to appear a thousand times better than I really am. I 
 would like to unite all the privileges of a father, of a 
 brother, of a friend, to obtain your friendship, your entire 
 confidence, for one object alone — in order to influence you 
 for your own happiness, and to see you entering on the 
 only road which is able to guide you thither — the only 
 road worthy of your heart, of your mind, of the sublime 
 mission to which you are called ; in one single word, to 
 induce you to take a firm resolution. For everything 
 depends upon that. Must I confess it to you ? I seek 
 eagerly, yet in vain, for some indication of it in your 
 actions, in all those little involuntary details of conduct, 
 not one of which escapes me. Nothing reassures me, 
 nothing satisfies me. Ah ! I know not how to conceal it 
 from you : I come away feeling terribly depressed. I 
 shudder at perceiving you threatened with the loss of true 
 happiness, and myself with the loss of a friend. God and 
 yourself forbid me to altogether despair : I will obey ; I 
 will pray without ceasing. He alone is able to open your 
 eyes, and to convince you that a heart that truly loves 
 Him is not so empty as you imagine. He alone is able 
 to inspire you with a genuine inclination — not a transient, 
 but a continuous and permanent one — for those duties 
 and occupations which will be entirely in keeping with the 
 goodness of your heart, and which will occupy in a pleasant 
 and profitable manner much of your time. 
 
 " I was not jesting in the least when I asked you to 
 assist me in my work on behalf of the Sisters of Charity. 
 Nothing could be more delightful or of greater service 
 to me. It would throw a peculiar fascination over my work, 
 
 *7
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 which would overcome my idleness, and give me a new 
 interest therein. 
 
 " Do nothing but what is good and kind ; nothing that 
 will cause any heart-breaks, or leave any regrets behind. 
 But, in the name of God, in the name of our friendship, 
 renounce what is unworthy of you, and what under no 
 circumstances can bring you happiness." 
 
 Mathieu de Montmorency to Madame R£camier. 
 
 " Be assured that it is impossible to set any limits to the 
 infinite mercies of Him to whom you desire to address 
 yourself in all sincerity, nor the marvellous and totally 
 unexpected changes that He works in hearts regenerated 
 by a true piety. I count the days that separate you from 
 this regeneration so ardently looked forward to by your 
 true friends. I also count the days that pass by without 
 seeing you, and I accept the appointment for Tuesday. 
 
 " Allow me to remind you of the books that I have had 
 the pleasure of lending you. Do not omit to read a few 
 pages of them every morning. I fancy that I have also 
 spoken to you of Les Reflexions sur la misericorde de Dieu, 
 by Mademoiselle de La Valliere, in which you will be doubly 
 interested on account of its sentiments and its author. You 
 have told me that your softened heart often turns to God. 
 Continue and foster this excellent habit. I trust that our 
 thoughts have already met, and will often meet on this 
 road. My dearest wish, which you will pardon me for 
 expressing, is that you may always find your evening 
 gaieties and many of the people who are called pleasant a 
 little tiresome. Is not that a very unkind wish ? However, 
 pray believe that my intentions are good. 
 
 " I am not without fear of the daily effects of these 
 
 zS
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 frivolous surroundings of yours, which can do you no 
 good, and which are unworthy of you. When you have 
 read nothing serious during the day ; when you have 
 scarcely been able to spare a few moments for meditatiom 
 and have passed three or four hours of an evening in an 
 atmosphere contagious from its very nature, you persuade 
 yourself that your convictions are still unsettled, that it is 
 necessary to begin over again an examination, which, once 
 made, ought to be relied upon as a sure foundation* 
 incapable of being shaken. Thus you lose heart and get 
 discouraged. Ah ! I entreat you, in the name of that 
 deep interest which you do not doubt, in the name of my 
 many sad personal experiences, not to give way to these 
 fatal tendencies. Take care that you do not draw back, 
 and thus render your future inconsolable. Nor is this all ; 
 do not advance very rapidly, if you feel you have not 
 sufficient strength to do so, but at least move a few steps 
 forward. Put your faith in the most earnest of prayers> 
 and, at the same time, in the wisest of counsels. I hope 
 you have not forgotten your promise to devote half an 
 hour every day to consecutive and serious reading — these 
 two conditions are indispensable — and also a few moments 
 to prayer and meditation. Is this too much to ask for 
 the greatest — one might say the only — interest in life ? " 
 
 Another of Madame Recamier's most intimate friends 
 was the famous critic La Harpe, whose Lycee ou Cours du 
 Litterature, in spite of the bitterness with which the 
 author assailed contemporary writers, long remained a 
 standard of literary criticism. Madame Recamier always 
 had a great attraction for literary men. Her taste in art 
 and literature was far from contemptible ; and the naive, 
 spontaneous admiration she was accustomed to express was 
 
 29
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 a kind of incense very acceptable to men of letters. She 
 had, moreover, for the sufferings of wounded vanity a 
 pity and sympathy seldom accorded them. "No one,'* 
 says Madame Lenormant, " knew so well how to pour 
 balm on the wounds that are never acknowledged, how to 
 calm and soothe the bitterness of rivalry or literary 
 animosities. For moral chagrins and imaginary sorrows, 
 so intense in some natures, she was par excellence the 
 sister of charity." * 
 
 Her attachment to La Harpe, whom she had known 
 from her childhood, was very sincere. She admired his 
 talents and appreciated his wit — which was more than 
 could be said for the majority of his contemporaries, as it 
 was of a peculiarly mordant description — and was always 
 kind and attentive to him. He was a frequent visitor at 
 Clichy, and when he resumed his famous lectures at the 
 Athenaeum, which his proscription after the coup d'etat 
 of the 1 8 th Fructidor had interrupted, Madame Recamier 
 always made a point of attending them. Her presence, of 
 course, proved a great attraction, and the lectures were 
 delivered to a numerous and fashionable, if not very 
 intellectual, audience. 
 
 Madame Recamier, probably, felt that La Harpe had a 
 greater claim upon her consideration than any of her 
 other friends, as it was through her own husband's pro- 
 pensity for matchmaking that the poor old man had been 
 drawn into a most unfortunate marriage. 
 
 It happened that Jacques Recamier had an old friend, a 
 certain Madame de Longuerue, whose husband had died, 
 leaving her in very poor circumstances. This lady had a 
 very beautiful daughter, for whom, however, it was diffi- 
 cult to find a husband owing to her lack of fortune ; and 
 
 1 Souvenirs, i. 53. 
 30
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 the good-natured banker conceived the idea of marrying 
 her to La Harpe. The girl, who, not unnaturally, felt 
 that a celebrated name was hardly likely to compensate 
 her for accepting a husband thrice her age, protested ; but 
 Madame de Longuerue, having artfully concealed the 
 state of her daughter's feelings from La Harpe, at length 
 succeeded in gaining her consent to the match. At the 
 end of three weeks, however, the bride sued for a divorce 
 on the ground that she hated her husband, a plea which 
 was held quite sufficient to justify the dissolution of the 
 connubial knot during the Revolutionary era, when 
 divorces were so easily obtained and so common that we 
 read of women who had been married four or five times. 
 Poor old La Harpe, who appears to have been really 
 attached to his young wife, was terribly upset ; but he 
 threw no obstacle in the way of the divorce, and forgave 
 the girl the scandal of the rupture. 1 
 
 Like Mathieu de Montmorency, La Harpe had been 
 wild at one time, and had changed his mode of life almost 
 as suddenly. The world, however, seems at first to have 
 
 1 Unless the following picture of the critic's mode of life is an 
 exaggerated one, we can understand why young Madame de La Harpe 
 was so anxious to obtain a divorce : 
 
 "We went with Madame Recamier and the Russian Princess 
 Dalgourski to La Harpe's house to hear him repeat some of his verses. 
 He lives in a wretched house, and we went up dirty stairs, through 
 dirty passages, where I wondered how fine ladies' trains and noses could 
 go, and were received in a dark, small den by the philosopher, or 
 rather devot, for he scorns the name of philosopher. He was in a 
 dirty-reddish nightgown, and very dirty nightcap, bound round the 
 forehead with a superlatively dirty chocolate-coloured ribbon. Madame 
 Recamier, the beautiful, the elegant, robed in white satin trimmed 
 with white fur, seated herself on the elbow of his armchair, and 
 besought him to repeat his verses. Charlotte has drawn a picture of 
 this scene." — Maria Edgeworth to Mrs. Sneyd, January 10, 1802. 
 
 3*
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 been but little disposed to credit the sincerity of his con- 
 version. The following anecdote is related by Sainte- 
 Beuve, who had it from Madame Recamier : 
 
 "It was at the chateau of Clichy, where Madame 
 Recamier was spending the summer. La Harpe had come 
 there to stay a few days. The question came up (the same 
 one that everybody was then asking) whether his conversion 
 was as sincere as he professed, and it was resolved to put 
 it to the proof. It was the age when practical jokes were 
 the fashion, and one was planned which seemed perfectly 
 fair to these lively and thoughtless young men. It was 
 well known that La Harpe had always been very fond of 
 women, and that that had been one of his great failings. 
 A nephew of M. Recamier, one of the youngest and, 
 apparently, the best looking, dressed himself in woman's 
 clothes, so as to represent a fine lady, and, thus disguised, 
 installed himself in M. de La Harpe's room — that is to 
 say, in his bedroom. Quite a long story had been made 
 up to account for so strange an intrusion. She had just 
 arrived from Paris ; she had a most urgent favour to ask ; 
 she could not make up her mind to wait till the next day. 
 To be brief, M. de La Harpe when the evening came left 
 the salon, and went upstairs to his room. The expectant and 
 silent auditors were already on the watch behind a folding- 
 screen to enjoy the fun. But what was the astonishment, the 
 disappointment, and, to some extent, the remorse of these 
 foolish youths, including the soi-disant lady seated in a 
 corner of the fire-place, on perceiving M. de La Harpe on 
 entering the room take no notice of anything, but simply 
 kneel down and say a long prayer. When he rose from 
 his knees and approached the bed, he caught sight of the 
 lady, and drew back in astonishment. But in vain did 
 the latter endeavour to stammer out some words of her 
 
 3*
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 part. M. de La Harpe cut it short, explaining that this 
 was neither the time nor the place to listen to her. He 
 put her off till the morrow, and courteously bowed her 
 out. Next day he did not mention the visit he had 
 received to any one at the chateau, nor was anything said 
 to him on the subject.'* 1 
 
 In 1800 Madame Recamier sat for her portrait to the 
 famous painter David. The sketch he made, which 
 depicts the young beauty reclining on a couch, with her 
 head turned towards the onlooker, is a very pleasing one, 
 but it was thought by many scarcely to do her justice, and 
 David himself, it appears, was not wholly satisfied with it. 
 It is, however, full of interest as an example of the leader 
 of the French school of this period. It was retained by 
 the painter, and offered for sale with the rest of his 
 pictures by his executors in 1829, when it was purchased 
 by M. Charles Lenormant, the husband of Madame 
 Recamier's niece, for six thousand francs, and a few 
 months later sold for the same sum to the Museum of 
 the Louvre. 
 
 A far better known and altogether more satisfactory 
 portrait is the celebrated full-length one by Gerard, which 
 is generally acknowledged to be one of the most beautiful 
 creations of that talented artist. Gerard, who, like most 
 famous painters, was of a nervous, irritable temperament, 
 was greatly annoyed by the number of fashionable people 
 who came to his studio, begging permission to see the 
 picture, and even to be present during the sittings. For 
 some time he bore these interruptions in silence, but at 
 length his patience was exhausted. 
 
 One day, just before the portrait was finished, there 
 was a knock at the door, and a voice — that of Christian 
 1 Cauteries du Lundi, v. 108, 109. 
 
 33 c
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 de Lemoignon, one of Madame Recamier's most devoted 
 admirers — was heard craving admission. Poor Gerard, 
 who had made up his mind to an uninterrupted morning's 
 work, was furious. Going to the door, his pallet in one hand 
 and his garde-main in the other, he flung it open, and in a 
 voice hoarse with passion exclaimed, "Come in, monsieur, 
 come in, but afterwards I shall destroy my picture ! " He 
 almost pushed the intruder into the room, repeating his 
 threat, and it is more than probable that he would have 
 kept his word, as he was almost beside himself with anger, 
 had not Lemoignon had the tact to apologise for his 
 intrusion and withdraw, with the remark that he should 
 be in despair if he were unfortunate enough to deprive 
 posterity of one of M. Gerard's masterpieces. 
 
 It was during this same year, 1800, that Madame 
 Recamier's father, M. Bernard, was appointed Postmaster- 
 General, of which office, however, he was deprived in 
 1802, on a charge of countenancing a secret Royalist 
 correspondence which had been circulating in the South of 
 France. He was arrested, and thrown into prison, and 
 matters would, undoubtedly, have gone hardly with him 
 but for his beautiful daughter's exertions on his behalf. 
 Madame Recamier left among her papers an interesting 
 account of this event : 
 
 " In August 1 802," she says, " my father was at the 
 head of the Post Office. Just at this time the Government 
 was alarmed by a very active correspondence carried on by 
 the Royalists : a number of pamphlets or brochures, 
 written in the same cause, were circulated in the south, 
 without the authorities being able to discover by what 
 means they were transmitted. It had long been suspected 
 that it was through the intervention of a public functionary 
 the head in fact of the department, for it was under cover 
 
 34
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 of my father that all these clandestine writings were 
 passing. 1 He had never taken any of his family into his 
 confidence, and both my mother and myself were entirely 
 ignorant of what was going on. 
 
 " One day Madame Bacciochi, the sister of the First 
 Consul, who was anxious to make the acquaintance of 
 La Harpe, asked me to invite her to dinner to meet him. 
 I consented, though we were not on terms of sufficient 
 ntimacy to warrant her making such a request ; but the 
 ladies of the First Consul's family had already begun to 
 assume the airs of princesses, and seemed to imagine that 
 they conferred honour upon those who entertained them. 
 The only ladies present were Madame Bacciochi, Madame 
 de Stael, and my mother, while the gentlemen were 
 M. de La Harpe, M. de Narbonne, and Mathieu de 
 Montmorency. 
 
 " The dinner passed off pleasantly, as one would presume 
 it would do from the presence of M. de La Harpe and 
 Madame de Stael, and in view of the taste which Madame 
 Bacciochi at that time affected for literature. 2 
 
 1 "The publications were edited in Paris by an abbe named Guyot, 
 who took advantage of the friendship subsisting between M. Bernard 
 and himself to transmit them to all those places with which M. Bernard 
 kept up an official intercourse, whence they were thrown into general 
 circulation." — Memoires de Due de Rovige, iii. 7. 
 
 2 " Madame Bacciochi was dressed on this occasion [Madame Junot's 
 wedding dinner] with a degree of eccentricity which even now is fresh 
 in my mind. She had presided in the morning at a female literary 
 society ; and, proposing to establish a peculiar costume for the asso- 
 ciates, she considered the readiest way to effect her purpose was to have 
 a pattern made, and appear in it herself: and in this new dress she 
 afterwards came to my mother's : such a medley of the Jewish, Roman, 
 Middle Age, and modern Greek costumes — of everything, in short, 
 except French good taste — was, I think, never seen." — Memoires de 
 Duchesse d? A brant} s, i. 412. 
 
 35
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 "Just as we had risen from the table to go into the 
 salon, a note was handed to my mother. Being somewhat 
 upieasy about what it might contain, she glanced through 
 it, and, giving a cry of pain, fainted away. 
 
 " I ran to her, and when the remedies which we freely 
 applied had restored her to consciousness, anxiously ques- 
 tioned her. She handed me the note which she had just 
 received. It contained the news of the arrest of my 
 father, who had just been confined in the Temple prison. 
 This was a great shock to all present. Though over- 
 whelmed by so terrible an event, the consequences of 
 which I did not dare to contemplate, I felt the necessity 
 of overcoming my grief, and, summoning up all my 
 strength, I approached Madame Bacciochi, who seemed 
 more embarrassed than concerned. ' Madame,' I said to 
 her in a voice broken by emotion, * Madame, Heaven, 
 which has made you the witness of our misfortunes, intends, 
 beyond doubt, to make you our deliverer. I must see 
 the First Consul this very day ; it is absolutely imperative, 
 and I rely on you, madame, to procure me this interview.' 
 
 " * But,' said Madame Bacciochi, with embarrassment, 
 * it seems to me that the best thing for you to do is to see 
 Fouche, and find out exactly how matters stand ; then, if 
 it is necessary for you to see my brother, you may come 
 and tell me, and we will consider what had better be 
 done.' 
 
 11 ' Where shall I be able to find you, madame r ' I 
 replied, not allowing myself to be discouraged by the 
 coldness with which she spoke. 
 
 " ' At the Theatre-Fran^ais, where I am going to join 
 my sister, who is waiting for me.' " 
 
 Poor Madame Recamier, accordingly, ordered her 
 carriage and drove to Fouche's house. From that astute 
 
 36
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 personage, however, she received but little consolation- 
 He informed her that her father's position was a very 
 serious one, but that he himself could do nothing to help 
 her. He advised her to see the First Consul without a 
 moment's delay, and obtain his promise that the mise en 
 arraignment should not take place. If she waited till the 
 next day, he would not answer for the consequences. 
 
 In an agony of apprehension, Madame Recamier re- 
 entered her carriage, and drove to the theatre to find 
 Madame Bacciochi, her last hope. The journal continues: 
 
 " When I reached the Theatre-Franc.ais I could scarcely 
 stand. The noise, the crowd, the lights produced a 
 strange and painful sensation. Wrapping myself in my 
 shawl, I was conducted to Madame Bacciochi's box, where 
 I was admitted during an entracte. She was there with 
 Madame Leclerc, 1 and, on recognising me, could not con- 
 ceal an expression of keen annoyance ; but I was sustained 
 by too strong a feeling to pay any attention to that. 
 
 " ' I have come, madame,' I said, ' to claim the fulfil- 
 ment of your promise. I must see the First Consul this 
 very evening, or my father is lost.' 
 
 " ' Well,' replied Madame Bacciochi carelessly, ■ let us 
 see the end of this tragedy ; when it is over I am at your 
 service.' 
 
 " There was nothing to be done but to wait. I sat 
 down, or rather I sank down, in the remotest corner of the 
 box. Fortunately for me, it was a stage box, very deep, and 
 dark enough for me to be able to give myself up without 
 
 1 Pauline Bonaparte, Napoleon's youngest and favourite sister. She 
 married General Leclerc in 1801, and after his death, which occurred 
 in the following year, became the wife of the Prince Borghcsc, a 
 wealthy Italian nobleman. She was extremely beautiful, and was the 
 original of the Venus Victrix of Canova. 
 
 37
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 restraint to my distressing thoughts. I then observed, 
 for the first time, in the corner opposite to mine, a man 
 whose large black eyes were fixed on me with so deep and 
 kindly an interest that I was touched. After having 
 endured so much coldness, it was some consolation to me 
 to meet with a little kindness and compassion. 
 
 " At this moment Madame Leclerc turned abruptly 
 towards me, and asked if I had seen Lafont before in the 
 role of Achilles. Then, without waiting for a reply, she 
 added, ' He is very handsome, but to-day he is wearing a 
 helmet which does not become him in the least.' * 
 
 " At this idle question, and these frivolous and cruel 
 words, which showed the most complete indifference to 
 the situation in which I was placed, the unknown gentle- 
 man could not control a gesture of impatience ; and, 
 having doubtless resolved to cut short my agony, bent 
 towards Madame Bacciochi, and remarked to her, in an 
 undertone, ' Madame Recamier appears to be in distress. 
 If she will permit me, I will escort her home, and will 
 myself undertake to speak to the First Consul.' 
 
 " ' Yes, of course,' answered Madame Bacciochi eagerly, 
 delighted to be relieved of this disagreeable duty. 
 * Nothing could be more fortunate for you,' she added, 
 turning to me. ' Confide in General Bernadotte ; there is 
 no one better able to help you.' " 
 
 Bernadotte, for her unknown friend was none other 
 
 1 The celebrated actor Pierre Lafont was born at La Linde, in 
 Perigord, in 1775. After performing for three or four years in the 
 provinces, he came to Paris towards the end of the year 1799 ; and, in 
 the following May, appeared at the Comcdie Francaise as Achilles in 
 Iphigcnia in Aulis, and scored an unqualified success. He excelled both 
 in tragedy and comedy. He was generally believed to be the lover — 
 — or rather one of the lovers, for " la jolie Paulette " was very free 
 with her favours — of Madame Leclerc. 
 
 38
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 than the future King of Sweden, drove with Madame 
 Recamier, who had, of course, gratefully accepted his offer 
 of mediation, to her house, and then left to proceed to the 
 Tuileries, promising to return as soon as he had seen the 
 First Consul. 
 
 Madame Recamier found her own salon full of people, 
 who had come to inquire the particulars of M. Bernard's 
 arrest, which was already common property. She had not 
 the courage to face them, however, but retired to her room 
 to wait for Bernadotte, and, as she tells us, to count the 
 minutes until his return. He came at last in triumph, 
 and informed her that he had, although not without con- 
 siderable difficulty, obtained a promise from the First 
 Consul that her father should not be arraigned ; and he 
 hoped to procure his release in the course of a few days. 
 
 Next morning Madame Recamier, anxious to impart 
 the good news to her imprisoned father, hastened to the 
 Temple, where he was confined, and persuaded one of the 
 turnkeys, named Coulommier, to allow her to see him for 
 a few moments. Scarcely, however, had she been admitted 
 to his cell when Coulommier rushed in, pale and frightened, 
 and, opening a door in the wall, thrust her into what 
 appeared to be a small dungeon, where he left her in total 
 darkness. Presently she heard voices in her father's cell ; 
 then the opening and closing of a door, after which all 
 was still. 
 
 Poor Madame Recamier remained shut up in her 
 dungeon for two hours — it seemed to her more like two 
 years — for she was half stupefied with thinking of all the 
 horrors that had been committed in the Temple, and 
 imagining that Coulommier had been detected in some 
 breach of duty, and had been himself imprisoned, in which 
 case no one might discover where she was until it was too 
 
 39
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 late. At the end of that time she heard the sound of keys, 
 and, to her joy, Coulommier came and released her, explain- 
 ing that, just after she had entered her father's cell, the 
 Prefect of Police had sent some gendarmes to conduct 
 M. Bernard to the Prefecture, and that he had had no 
 alternative but to conceal her, or run the risk of dismissal 
 from his post, or, possibly, of a worse fate. 
 
 Bernadotte, in the meanwhile, had not relaxed his 
 exertions, and, a few days later, he came to Madame 
 Recamier's, holding in his hand the order for her father's 
 release ; and asked, as his only reward, permission to 
 escort her to the Temple to free the prisoner. Madame 
 Rdcamier, it is needless to say, overwhelmed the kind- 
 hearted general with thanks, and he became from that 
 moment one of her most intimate friends. 
 
 Although he obtained his freedom, Jean Bernard was, 
 of course, dismissed from his office, nor does there seem to 
 have been the slightest doubt but that he was deeply 
 implicated in the Royalist conspiracy. 
 
 4*
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 Madame Re"camier queen of Paris society — Her beauty and 
 virtue — Charles James Fox's high opinion of her — Fox in 
 Paris — His interviews with Bonaparte — Amusing incident at 
 the Opera — An Irishman's impressions of Madame Recamier 
 — Mary Berry's description of her — Paris during the Peace of 
 Amiens — A drawing-room at the Tuileries — DemidofFs ball 
 — The masked balls at the Opera — Madame Recamier's adven- 
 ture with the Prince of Wiirtemberg — Madame Recamier 
 visits England — Enthusiasm she arouses — Embarrassing situa- 
 tion at Covent Garden — Amusing letter in the Gentleman's 
 Magazine — Rupture of the Peace of Amiens — Growing power 
 of Bonaparte — Intrigues of Bernadotte against him — Ani- 
 mosity between Bonaparte and Madame de Stael — Reasons 
 for this — Banishment of Madame de Stael — Bernadotte renews 
 his intrigues — Madame Moreau's ball — Bernadotte's efforts 
 to win over Moreau — Trial of Moreau, Pichegru, and 
 Cadoudal — Madame Recamier's account of it — Banishment 
 of Moreau — The First Consul sends for Bernadotte — Berna- 
 dotte's account of their interview 
 
 The first seven years of the nineteenth century may be 
 regarded as the period of Madame Recamier's reign as 
 queen of Parisian society. Her husband's banking house 
 had now become one of the wealthiest in France, and she 
 only had to express a wish to see it immediately gratified; 
 so that at their country-seat at Clichy, and at their hotel 
 in the Rue du Mont Blanc she was able to entertain in 
 regal style all the most distinguished people in Paris. 
 
 4»
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 Juliette was now in the zenith of her beauty and popu- 
 larity. She was by this time entirely free from a slight 
 bashfulness from which she had suffered when she first 
 appeared in society, and her manners were charming, 
 while she seems to have been as good as she was beautiful. 
 It is true that, according to our English ideas, she must 
 have been a desperate flirt, though this does not appear to 
 have arisen from any craving for admiration, but rather 
 from a desire to be loved by her friends — a desire not un- 
 natural in a woman married to a husband more than twice 
 her age, and entirely engrossed in the management of his 
 business. She, certainly, does not seem to have been so 
 indifferent to the many celebrated men who laid their 
 hearts at her feet as she had shown herself to the advances 
 of Lucien Bonaparte. But, on the other hand, it has not 
 been suggested — by any one, that is to say, whose opinion 
 carries any weight — that she ever exceeded the bounds of 
 harmless flirtation : indeed, we have a striking testimony 
 to her virtue from a contemporary — who was certainly by 
 no means prone to credit any lady with that quality 
 unless she had given very substantial proof of possessing 
 it — Charles James Fox, who pronounced her to be " the 
 only woman who united the attractions of pleasure to 
 those of modesty." 
 
 Fox visited Paris during the Peace of Amiens, that 
 brief lull in the terrible storm which deluged Europe in 
 blood for so many years. He was accompanied by his 
 wife (formerly Mrs. Armistead), his marriage to whom, 
 although it had taken place, privately, seven years before, 
 had only just been publicly announced, and John Bernard 
 Trotter, a young Irishman who, subsequently, became his 
 private secretary, and to whose " Memoirs of Fox " we 
 are indebted for many interesting details of the great 
 
 42
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 Whig statesman's last years. The principal object of his 
 visit seems to have been to make researches in the 
 Archives for his projected history of the Stuarts, but he 
 found time to mix freely in Parisian society, where, as his 
 predilection for France was, of course, well known, he 
 was greeted with enthusiasm. He had several interviews 
 with Bonaparte, who, always anxious to conciliate the 
 English Whigs, and create if possible a Bonapartist faction 
 in that country, received him with marked cordiality. 
 Fox's conversations with Napoleon, however, do not seem 
 to have raised his opinion of the First Consul, whom he 
 describes as " a young man intoxicated with success." 
 
 Fox soon became on very friendly terms with Madame 
 Recamier and her immediate circle, and was a frequent 
 visitor at Clichy. One afternoon Madame Recamier 
 called for him in her carriage, and insisted on taking 
 him for a drive along the Boulevards. " Before you came, 
 Mr. Fox," said she, " I was the fashion ; it is a point of 
 honour, therefore, that I should not appear jealous of 
 you. 
 
 Some days after this drive, while Fox was sitting with 
 Madame Recamier in her box at the Opera, a Frenchman 
 entered, and handed each of them a copy of an ode, in 
 which the English statesman was eulogised under the title 
 of Jupiter, and his fair companion under that of Venus. 
 On reading this extraordinary effusion, Fox felt naturally 
 somewhat embarrassed ; but Madame Recamier only 
 laughed, and assured him that she cared not a jot for the 
 opinion of the good people of Paris. She was, un- 
 doubtedly, far too careless of her reputation, and it is 
 hardly surprising that some of her most innocent friend- 
 ships should have been construed into intrigues. 
 
 If Fox was favourably impressed by Madame Recamier, 
 
 43
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 his friend and travelling companion, Mr. Trotter, seems 
 to have been completely overpowered by her charms, for 
 in the " Memoirs," already referred to, we find her thus 
 described : 
 
 " The lovely phantom, breathing a thousand delicious 
 charms, yet flits before me — and so ingenuous and 
 unaffected ! shunning the ardent gaze, and, if conscious 
 of her dazzling beauty, unassuming and devoid of pride ; 
 rich at the first of female virtues — a kind and noble heart." 1 
 
 It is interesting to compare the susceptible Irishman's 
 description of Madame Recamier with that of Mary Berry, 
 who also met her, for the first time, during the Peace of 
 Amiens : 
 
 "... Madame Recamier, a rich banker's wife, who 
 has the finest house in Paris in the new style, and is 
 herself the decided beauty of the new world, for if she 
 can be called handsome, it is entirely a figure de fantasie. 
 She has a clear complexion, is young, tall, dressed with 
 much affectation of singularity in the extravagance of the 
 mode ; her manners are douceureuses, thinking much of 
 herself, with perfect carelessness about others ; for, besides 
 being a beauty, she has pretensions, I understand, to bel- 
 esprit. They may be as well founded, and yet not sufficient 
 to burn her for a witch." 2 
 
 This sounds rather ill-natured ; but Madame R6camier 
 had a way of monopolising the adoration of the opposite 
 sex at any ball or dinner-party at which she happened to 
 be present, which ladies who met her for the first time must 
 have found somewhat galling, and which even " an angel 
 inside and out," as Horace Walpole declared Mary Berry 
 to be, could not easily forgive. 
 
 1 Trotter's " Memoirs of Charles James Fox," p. 341. 
 1 Miss Berry's "Journal and Correspondence," ii. 177. 
 
 44-
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 Paris was very gay that spring. No sooner was peace 
 concluded than numbers of English people flocked across 
 the Channel, eager to behold the city which had been the 
 theatre of such stirring events, and the dictator whose 
 name was on everybody's lips. To such lengths was the 
 anxiety to see Napoleon carried that people actually came 
 to France for a few hours, went to a review of the troops, 
 saw the First Consul, and returned to England. Not only 
 England, however, but every country in Europe con- 
 tributed its quota of visitors ; and the various ambassadors 
 were simply overwhelmed with applications from people 
 who wished to be presented at the Tuileries. Miss Berry 
 has left us an interesting account of a kind of drawing- 
 room held nominally, of course, by Josephine, but really 
 by Napoleon. 
 
 On this occasion the ladies to be presented were ranged 
 in a circle at one end of the salon, round which Bonaparte 
 passed, accompanied by the two Prefets du Palais, and 
 followed, at a respectful distance, by Josephine. One of the 
 Prefets announced the name and nationality of each lady 
 in turn, after which the First Consul talked to her for two 
 or three minutes about the Opera, the respective merits of 
 French and Italian actors, the benefits to be derived from 
 horse-exercise, and such like topics ; and then passed on 
 to the next. Madame Bonaparte, who, we are told, " wore, 
 by way of being in a smart demi-parure, a pink slight silk 
 gown, with a pink velvet round spot upon it, a small white 
 silk or satin hat, with three small white feathers, tied 
 under the chin, and carried a handkerchief and no fan in 
 her hand," also spoke to each lady in turn. As, however, 
 she had no attendant to announce to her any of their 
 names, the ceremony would appear to have been rather an 
 informal one in her case. 
 
 45
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 But whatever innovations may be introduced at Court, 
 they are almost certain to find imitators in society. There 
 happened to be in Paris at this time a wealthy young 
 Russian named Demidoff, who entertained on a most 
 sumptuous and regal scale. This Demidoff gave a 
 magnificent ball at the Hotel de Montholon, to which all 
 Paris was invited. A feature of this entertainment was that 
 a bouquetiere was stationed in the ante-chamber, who 
 presented each lady with a splendid bouquet of hothouse 
 flowers, with an intimation that she was at liberty to 
 exchange it for a fresh one as often as she pleased during 
 the evening. What was the astonishment of the guests, 
 however, especially the English portion of them, to find 
 on their arrival that it was their host and not their 
 hostess who received and did all the honours, and that 
 poor Madame Demidoff occupied quite a secondary 
 position. 
 
 At this period the masked balls at the Opera were all 
 the fashion, and were attended by the best people in Paris. 
 Ladies went to them in masks and dominoes, but gentle- 
 men in ordinary evening dress. The term bal was 
 somewhat of a misnomer, for there was little or no 
 dancing ; and the amusement of the evening depended on 
 the mystery which surrounded the fair portion of the 
 audience, who were permitted to freely accost and even 
 attach themselves to any gentleman present. It was here 
 that a lady could gratify a long cherished grudge, and, 
 secure in the protection of her disguise, indulge in some 
 very unpleasant home thrusts, or even reveal a secret passion, 
 while the ugly little mask concealed her modest blushes. 
 The fortunate or unfortunate individual thus addressed, 
 of course, did all in his power to discover who the lady 
 could be in whose bosom he had aroused these amorous or 
 
 46
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 vindictive feelings, and many were the strange adventures 
 which were met with at the Opera balls. 
 
 Madame Recamier attended several of these balls, under 
 the escort of her brother-in-law Laurent Recamier, and 
 met with a number of piquant adventures, and made 
 several acquaintances which afterwards ripened into friend- 
 ships. Among them was the young Prince — afterwards 
 King of Wiirtemberg — who had been presented to her at 
 one of her grand balls at the Rue du Mont Blanc, but 
 with whom she had not on that occasion had the oppor- 
 tunity of exchanging more than a few words. Under 
 cover of her disguise, she accosted him one evening, and, 
 after they had conversed for a while on ordinary topics, 
 asked him what he thought of Madame Recamier. 
 
 The Prince replied that he thought her very lovely, but 
 that she was too inanimate to please him. Thereupon 
 Madame Recamier, emboldened by her mask, commenced 
 a very lively and fascinating conversation, with the result 
 that the Prince was completely captivated, and entreated 
 her to unmask. This she declined to do, but gave him a 
 ring, saying that she would claim it at another ball (not a 
 masked one) to be given a few days later. The Prince's 
 astonishment and confusion may be imagined, when he 
 discovered, on the evening in question, that the insipid 
 beauty of the Rue du Mont Blanc and the vivacious 
 owner of the ring were one and the same person. 
 
 In the spring of 1802 Madame Recamier with her 
 mother paid a visit to England. Furnished with excellent 
 introductions by the old Due de Guignes, who had been 
 ambassador at St. James's thirty years before, and a great 
 favourite in society, and still more recommended by her 
 reputation as a beauty, she was warmly welcomed in 
 London. Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire, still one of 
 
 47
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 the most beautiful women of the day, " quoique privie 
 (Tun ceil quelle couvrait (Tune boucle de ses cheveux" was 
 especially friendly, and Madame Recamier's first appear- 
 ance in public was in the duchess's box at Covent Garden. 
 The Prince of Wales, the exiled Due d'Orleans, and his two 
 young brothers, the Due de Montpensier and the Comte 
 de Beaujolais, were also of the party, and the "first gentle- 
 man in Europe " paid the lovely stranger the most marked 
 attention. 
 
 As soon as Madame Recamier entered the box every glass 
 was turned in her direction, while a low buzz of curiosity 
 and admiration ran round the house, whereupon the Prince 
 suggested that it would be advisable for the party to 
 leave before the conclusion of the play, in order to escape 
 the too obtrusive admiration of the crowd. The duchess 
 concurred, but when they rose to leave, the audience rose 
 too, and, regardless of the fact that the performance was 
 not yet over, left their seats and flocked into the vestibule, 
 determined to have as close a view as possible of the 
 beautiful Frenchwoman. So great was the crowd that poor 
 Madame Recamier was nearly swept off her feet ; but, 
 fortunately, managed at length to reach her carriage in 
 safety. 
 
 Madame Recamier's reception at Covent Garden was 
 only a foretaste of what was in store for her. Whenever 
 she appeared in public she was followed by large and 
 admiring crowds ; her engagements, her remarks, her 
 every movement were as faithfully chronicled by the 
 newspapers as if she had been a royal personage ; while 
 her portrait, engraved by Bartolozzi, was to be seen in 
 every shop window, and made its way from England to 
 the Ionian Islands (" Beauty returning to the land which 
 gave it birth," one of her admirers gallantly remarked), 
 
 48
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 India, and even China. The following amusing letter, 
 which appeared in the Qentleman s Magazine for November 
 of that year, and was, apparently, intended as a protest 
 against the classic garb in which Madame Recamier sat 
 for her portrait, will give some idea of the interest which 
 her visit aroused in England : 
 
 " October 9. 
 
 " Mr. Urban, — Every husband, father, and brother in 
 his Majesty's dominions owes thanks to the author of 
 * Remarks on Female Manners' reviewed on p. 846 : and 
 you, Sir, must also claim a due share of praise for your 
 endeavours to stir up the public indignation against such 
 levities as seem to be now systematically introducing 
 amongst us. We were informed by the Newspapers, the 
 beginning of last spring, that a lady of exquisite beauty 
 and elegance would walk in Kensington-gardens on the 
 following Sunday. The next week we were told by the 
 same papers that the public curiosity was so excited that 
 the lady suffered the greatest inconvenience from the 
 throng which surrounded her, whose rudeness was so 
 great as even to lift up her veil that they might gaze upon 
 her face. 1 Now, Mr. Urban, was not all this consequence 
 intended by the previous notice, and has not the same lady 
 left behind her an infamous proof of her own desire to 
 draw aside the veil ? Witness the exposure of her 
 indecent portrait, now exhibiting in all the print-shops of 
 the metropolis : but which I trust will not find its way 
 into the houses of any of our English families who have 
 the least regard to chastity, and the preservation of that 
 
 1 A newspaper of the day in extenuation of this outrage says that 
 " great part of the crowd consisted of Italian corset-makers, men- 
 milliners, and shoemakers, who were endeavouring each to catch the 
 fashion of her shoe and the quality of her veil." 
 
 49 d
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 characteristic modesty which heretofore distinguished the 
 British female. 
 
 "As to the lady in question, I hope it will be some 
 mortification to her vanity to be told that the figure of 
 herself which she has left behind has drawn forth no 
 better praise than what is contained in the following 
 miserable epigram, written under the portrait (or, if Mr. 
 Urban has no objection to mention names, under the 
 portrait of Madame Recamier) : 
 
 '* Can modest females en chemise 
 
 Court public notice ? Surely not. 
 Such only can expect to please 
 
 Those like themselves les sans culottes. 
 
 "Yours, etc. 
 
 " B. S." 
 
 A few months after Madame R6camier returned home, 
 England and France were once more locked in a death 
 grapple, and all communication between the fashionable 
 worlds of London and Paris was cut off for eleven long 
 vears. 
 
 The year which followed the renewal of hostilities was 
 an eventful one for Madame R6camier and her friends. 
 It was becoming daily more apparent that nothing short 
 of the vacant throne would be likely to satisfy the ambition 
 of Bonaparte, and the prospect was one which filled the 
 old Republicans with alarm and apprehension. They 
 recognised, however, that to oppose Bonaparte at this 
 stage of his career courage of no ordinary kind would be 
 required ; for not only had he shown himself perfectly 
 unscrupulous in his dealings with his political opponents, 
 but every advantage was now on his side. The army was 
 devoted to their victorious leader ; the Press had been 
 
 5°
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 effectually muzzled ; and the vast majority of the nation, 
 heartily sick of revolutionary changes, would be far more 
 disposed to resent than to support any attempt to interfere 
 with the man whom they regarded as the champion of 
 order against anarchy. 
 
 The centre of the Republican opposition to Bonaparte 
 at this time was Madame Recamier's new friend Bernadotte, 
 who had been one of the first to divine the real intentions 
 of the First Consul. Bernadotte's plan was to proceed 
 by constitutional means. He proposed that a memorial, 
 signed by a number of the leading men in France, should 
 be presented to Bonaparte, representing that the friends 
 of liberty had paid too high a price for it to allow such 
 sacrifices to be turned to the glorification of one man, 
 however well he may have deserved of the State. Should 
 Bonaparte return a favourable answer to this memorial, 
 and express his willingness to abide by the terms of the 
 Constitution, their purpose would have been achieved : 
 if not, a resolution calling upon him to resign, or im- 
 posing fresh limitations on his power, could be brought 
 forward in the Senate. 
 
 This proposal sounded to Madame Recamier, whom 
 the general made his confidante, both "just and generous," 
 but unfortunately Bernadotte could not find a single 
 Republican senator with the courage of his convictions. 
 They agreed that the power of Bonaparte " had increased, 
 was increasing, and ought to be diminished " ; but to sub- 
 scribe to a resolution to that effect, which would definitely 
 commit them to a struggle with so formidable an antago- 
 nist, was quite another matter ; and they one and all 
 refused their signatures to the document. 
 
 It must not be supposed that the First Consul long 
 remained in ignorance of what was going on. Few things 
 
 5i
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 escaped the vigilant eyes of his secret police. He had no 
 wish to strike at Bernadotte, who was but a poor schemer, 
 though a brave soldier, and, moreover, connected with his 
 own family, having married Madame Joseph Bonaparte's 
 sister, Desiree Clary, an old playfellow of the First Consul. 
 As for the other conspirators, he despised them as timid 
 doctrinaires, who had brought their country to the verge 
 of ruin in the past, but were impotent when confronted 
 with a man of courage and resolution. There was one 
 person in the Opposition ranks, however, whom he both 
 feared and hated, and of whom he now determined to 
 make an example. This was Madame de Stael, in whose 
 salon Bernadotte and his friends had been in the habit of 
 meeting. 
 
 The exact date of the beginning of what has been styled 
 Madame de StaeTs duel with Napoleon is not very easy to 
 determine, but the probability is that it dates from the 
 early days of the Consulate. " When Bonaparte became 
 First Consul," says Madame de Remusat, " Madame de 
 Stael was already celebrated for her opinions, her mode of 
 life, and her writings. Such a man as Bonaparte would 
 naturally excite first the curiosity and then the enthusiasm 
 of a woman so alive to anything out of the common as 
 Madame de Stael. She was enraptured, and eagerly 
 *ought his acquaintance. She thought that one who 
 united so many remarkable gifts with so many favourable 
 opportunities would be a powerful promoter of liberty, 
 which was her idol ; but she alarmed Bonaparte, who did 
 not choose to be either closely watched or clearly inter- 
 preted." l 
 
 1 Bourrienne puts the beginning of the quarrel much earlier, and 
 Madame de Stael's conduct in a far from favourable light. " Madame 
 ft Stael," he says, "had not been introduced to him (Bonaparte), and 
 
 5*
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 Bonaparte, in fact, disliked clever women, and received 
 Madame de Stael's friendly advances with studied cold- 
 ness, and disconcerted her with the brevity and down- 
 rightness of his speech. The lady, however, was not one 
 to accept defeat lightly, and she tells us how, hearing that 
 the First Consul had expressed himself unfavourably about 
 her, she had, before going to a dinner-party at Berthier's 
 at which he was to be present, " written down a number 
 of tart and piquant replies which she might make to the 
 questions which she supposed he would address to her." 
 On this occasion, however, Bonaparte avoided her, and 
 gave her no opportunity for retaliation, and, in a passage 
 of arms which took place soon afterwards, and in which 
 Madame de Stael was herself the aggressor, gained a very 
 decisive victory. 
 
 The authoress had asked him with that direct mode of 
 attack which Byron found so trying, " Whom do you 
 think the greatest woman alive or dead ? " and was met 
 with the sarcastic retort, " Her, madame, who has given 
 
 knew nothing more of him than what had been published respecting 
 the young conqueror of Italy when she addressed to him letters full of 
 enthusiasm. Bonaparte read some passages of them to me, and, laugh- 
 ing, said : ' What do you think, Bourrienne, of these extravagances ? 
 This woman is mad.' 1 recollect that in one of her letters Madame 
 de Stael, among other things, told him that they certainly were created 
 for each other ; that it was in consequence of error in human institu- 
 tions that the quiet and gentle Josephine was united to his fate ; that 
 nature seemed to have destined for a hern such as he a soul of fire like 
 her own. These extravagances disgusted Bonaparte to a degree which I 
 cannot describe. When he had finished reading these fine epistles, he 
 used to throw them into the fire, or tear them to pieces, with marked ill- 
 humour, and would say, ' Well, here is a woman who pretends to genius — 
 a maker of sentiments, and she presumes to compare herself to Josephine. 
 Bourrienne, I shall not reply to these letters.'" — "Memoirs of Napo- 
 leon" (Colonel Phipps's translation), ii. 365. 
 
 53
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 most sons to the State ! " " They say you are not very 
 friendly to the sex," she resumed. " I am very fond of 
 my wife," he replied, and abruptly turned away. 
 
 There was nothing in these replies to call forth any 
 particular resentment, for Napoleon's lack of good breed- 
 ing was always especially manifest in his conversation with 
 women, whom he delighted to embarrass by peremptory 
 remarks which admitted of no reply, and even by rude- 
 ness of language, which could not fail to both perplex and 
 mortify them. Bourrienne tells us that he often addressed 
 to them such remarks as " How red your elbows are ! '' 
 " What a strange head-dress you wear ! " " Pray, tell me, 
 do you ever change your gown ? " — familiarities which 
 few of them dared to resent. 1 Madame de Stael, how- 
 ever, was not as other women, and it is said that she never 
 forgave Napoleon these sarcastic answers, and vowed 
 vengeance. Her reprisals took the form of biting bon- 
 mots directed against the First Consul and his family, 
 which, of course, never failed to reach Bonaparte's ears. 
 Wit and sarcasm are deadly weapons enough, if effectually 
 manipulated, and in the hands of Madame de Stael they cut 
 
 1 " The celebrated Sophie Gay, a friend and defender of Madame de 
 Stael, was less timid before him, and repelled his cynicism by her ready 
 repartee. She was on intimate terms with his sister Pauline, and met 
 him at her house at Aix-la-Chapelle. In passing near the young 
 authoress, he said to her very brusquely and with the eagle glance 
 before which most women cowered, ' Madame, my sister has told you 
 that I do not like intellectual women.' * Yes, sire,' she responded, 
 not at all disconcerted ; ' yes, sire ; but I do not believe her.' The 
 Emperor was surprised, and made another attempt. 'You write, do 
 you not ? What have you produced since you have been in this 
 country?' 'Three children, sire,' she proudly replied. He passed 
 on, pretending to smile. The lady's wit was too much for his own. 
 One of these children was Delphine, well-known in our day as the 
 accomplished authoress, Madame Girardin." — Biographie Universelk, xvi. 
 
 5+
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 deeper than iron or steel, and wounded Bonaparte in the 
 one spot in which he was vulnerable — his vanity. He 
 had no means of counteracting these attacks except by- 
 resorting to extreme measures, and these he finally took. 
 It is only fair to Bonaparte to observe, however, that it is 
 very doubtful whether Madame de Stael would have had 
 any reason to complain of his treatment of her had she 
 not deliberately gone out of her way to provoke her 
 enemy. Bonaparte, indeed, was desirous of disarming her 
 hostility and winning her over to his side. " What does 
 she want ? Why does she not join us ? " he asked his 
 brother Joseph, who was on intimate terms with Madame 
 de Stael, and commissioned him to sound the lady on the 
 subject. When Joseph reported what Napoleon had said 
 to his friend, she replied, " The difficulty, monsieur, is not 
 what I want, but what I think.'''' 
 
 At length Benjamin Constant's (the famous publicist) 
 speech in the Senate, in which he denounced the First 
 Consul, although without specifying him by name, as 
 aiming at arbitrary power, and which was generally 
 believed to have been prompted by Madame de Stael ; 
 the appearance of her father's (Necker) Dernieres Vues de 
 Politique et de Finance, which gave great umbrage to the 
 First Consul ; and, finally, her friendship with disaffected 
 men like Bernadotte and Moreau, exhausted Bonaparte's 
 patience, and in the autumn of 1803 Madame de Stael was 
 banished forty leagues from Paris. 
 
 This harsh and arbitrary act, revealing as it did 
 despotism in its most odious form, made the friends of 
 liberty more than ever apprehensive of the results of 
 Bonaparte's assumption of absolute power. Bernadotte, 
 Madame Recamier tells us, showed her a list of Republican 
 generals upon whom he thought he could rely, but Victor 
 
 55
 
 MADAME RECAM1ER 
 
 Moreau, the hero of Hohenlinden, the one man above all 
 others whose co-operation was essential to the success of 
 his plans, was not among them. He had refused to join. 
 Bernadotte had several interviews with Moreau, both at 
 the latter's country house at Grosbois, and at Madame 
 Recamier's, and used every argument he could think of 
 to induce him to take the lead against Bonaparte, but all 
 to no purpose. The Republican general, though admit- 
 ting the gravity of the situation, was fearful of provoking 
 civil war, and disinclined to take part in any movement 
 which might redound to the advantage of the hated 
 Bourbons. 
 
 In the early part of the winter Madame Moreau gave a 
 ball. All the foreigners in Paris were there, but Madame 
 Recamier was struck by the absence of everybody con- 
 nected with the Government. Both Moreau and Berna- 
 dotte, too, seemed preoccupied; and during a quadrille 
 the latter offered her his arm to go and get a little air, 
 " although," remarks the fair conspirator, " it was our 
 thoughts that needed breathing-space." 
 
 " We retired into a small salon," she continues, " where 
 only the sound of the music came to remind us of where 
 we were. I confided to him my fears. He had not yet 
 given up hope of Moreau, whose position both for deter- 
 mining the course of any movement, and for moderating 
 its possible excesses, he considered so excellent; but he 
 was irritated at the thought that so many advantages 
 might be lost. 
 
 " ■ Were I in his place,' he said, ' I would go this even- 
 ing to the Tuileries, and dictate to Bonaparte the conditions 
 on which he might govern.' " 
 
 Moreau happened to pass by at that moment, where- 
 upon Bernadotte called to him, and repeated all the 
 
 56
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 reasons and arguments he had made use of to influence 
 
 him. 
 
 " ' With your popular name,' said he, * you are the only 
 one amongst us who can face Bonaparte supported by the 
 whole people. Think what you can do — what we can do 
 with you as our leader, and then decide ! ' " 
 
 Moreau reiterated what he had often said : that he felt 
 the danger with which liberty was menaced; that it was 
 necessary to keep a watchful eye upon Bonaparte's move- 
 ments, but that he feared civil war. He held himself in 
 readiness; his friends might act, and, when the time for 
 action arrived, he would be at their disposal. They might 
 count on him as soon as the first movement was made, 
 but, for the present, he did not feel called upon to take 
 the initiative. He even disclaimed the importance which 
 they thought fit to attribute to him. 
 
 The conversation lasted a long time and grew warm. 
 Bernadotte lost his temper, and said to Moreau : 
 
 " ■ Ah, you are afraid to espouse the cause of liberty. 
 And Bonaparte, say you, will not dare to attack it. Ah, 
 well, Bonaparte will make game both of liberty and 
 you ! She will perish in spite of our efforts, and you 
 will be involved in her ruin without having fought for 
 her.' " 
 
 Madame Recamier tells us that she retained a vivid 
 recollection of this conversation, and when, in the follow- 
 ing spring, Moreau was implicated in the trial of Georges 
 Cadoudal and Pichegru, she remained convinced that he 
 was as innocent of all connection with that conspiracy as 
 he had been of the intrigues of Bernadotte. 
 
 Madame Recamier had not intended to be present at 
 the trial, but Madame Moreau, happening to mention 
 that her husband had often looked for her among his 
 
 57
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 friends in court, she determined to go. We will let her 
 relate her impressions of this cause celebre. 
 
 " I was accompanied," she says, " by a near relation of 
 M. Recamier, a magistrate named Brillat-Savarin. 1 The 
 crowd was so great that not only the hall and the galleries, 
 but all the approaches to the court-house were thronged 
 with people. M. Savarin took me in by the door that 
 opened on the amphitheatre, facing the prisoners, from 
 whom I was separated by the whole length of the hall. I 
 glanced hurriedly and fearfully over the benches of this 
 amphitheatre to find Moreau. The moment I raised my 
 veil he recognised me, and, rising from his seat, bowed. 
 I returned his greeting with respect and emotion, and 
 hastened down the steps to take the seat reserved for 
 me. 
 
 " The prisoners were forty-seven in number, and, for 
 the most part, strangers to each other. They occupied 
 the raised seats facing those on which the judges sat. Each 
 prisoner was seated between two gendarmes : there was 
 much deference in the manner of the two who guarded 
 Moreau. I was deeply touched to see this great captain, 
 whose reputation was, at that time, so great and so 
 untarnished, treated as a criminal. It was no longer a 
 question of Republic and Republicans ; it was — with the 
 exception of Moreau, whom I am convinced was an entire 
 stranger to this conspiracy — Royalist fidelity which 
 struggled against the new power. Nevertheless, the cause 
 of the ancient monarchy had for its leader a man of the 
 people — Georges Cadoudal. 
 
 1 Anthelme Brillat-Savarin, a member of the Court of Cassation from 
 1802 till his death in 1826. He was a famous gastronomist. His well- 
 known work, Pbysiologie du Gout, an elegant and witty compendium of 
 the Art of dining, has been translated into several languages. 
 
 58
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 " That intrepid Georges ! In looking at him I thought 
 that that head, so freely, so energetically devoted, was 
 destined to fall on the scaffold, and, perhaps, be the only 
 one not saved, since he made no effort on his own behalf. 
 Scorning to defend himself, he only defended his friends. 
 I heard his answers, all bearing the impress of that ancient 
 faith for which he had fought so bravely, and had been 
 ready long ago to lay down his life. Accordingly, when 
 they endeavoured to persuade him to follow the example 
 of the other prisoners, and to ask for pardon, ' Will you 
 promise me,' he replied, * a better cause to die for ? ' 
 
 " In the ranks of suspected persons were M. de Polignac 
 and M. de Riviere, objects of interest on account of their 
 youth and disinterestedness. Pichegru, whose name will 
 be associated in history with that of Moreau, was, however, 
 missing from the side of the latter, although one might 
 fancy that one saw his spirit there, for it was known that 
 he had died in prison. 1 Another death, that of the 
 Due d'Enghien, added to the terror and grief existing in 
 many minds even among the most devoted partisans of the 
 First Consul. 
 
 " Moreau did not speak, and after the session was over, 
 the magistrate who had escorted me came to take me 
 away. I passed the bar on the opposite side to that by 
 which I had entered the court, thus passing along the 
 whole length of the raised benches on which the prisoners 
 sat. At that moment Moreau was coming down, followed 
 by his two gendarmes and some other prisoners ; he was 
 only separated from me by a railing. He spoke a few 
 
 1 Pichegru was found strangled in his cell on the morning of April 6. 
 There does not appear to be any justification for the Royalist report 
 that he was made away with by Bonaparte's orders. It is far more 
 probable that he took his dishonoured life with his own hands. 
 
 59
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 words of thanks in passing, that in my agitation I scarcely 
 heard. I understood, however, that he was grateful for 
 my having come, and begged me to come again. This 
 conversation was destined to be our last." 1 
 
 Madame Recamier did not attend the trial again, for, 
 early the next morning, she received a message from 
 Cambaceres, begging her, for Moreau's sake, not to return 
 to the court. The First Consul, it appeared, had, in 
 reading the report of the session, seen her name in the 
 list of those present, and had asked sharply, " What 
 business had Madame Recamier there ? " and it was 
 thought by Madame Moreau that every mark of interest 
 shown in her husband would only increase his danger. 
 
 At the close of the trial all business was suspended ; the 
 whole population was in the streets, and the one topic of 
 conversation the fate of Moreau. It was the general opinion 
 that Bonaparte only desired Moreau to be condemned to 
 death in order to pardon him ; but, on this being repeated 
 to Clavier, one of the judges, he replied, " And who then 
 would pardon us ? " 
 
 The night preceding the sentence, during the whole of 
 
 which the court continued sitting, all the approaches to 
 
 the Palace of Justice were blocked by surging crowds, 
 
 animated by the most intense excitement. When the 
 
 decision of the judges was made known, it was found that 
 
 twenty of the prisoners had been condemned to death, of 
 
 whom ten perished with Georges Cadoudal on the scaffold. 
 
 The others, most of whom were connected with great 
 
 families, whom Bonaparte was anxious to conciliate, were 
 
 imprisoned in fortresses, the ladies of the First Consul's 
 
 family having gone through the farce of obtaining this 
 
 commutation. 
 
 1 Souvenirs, i. 104. 
 60
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 Moreau's sentence was banishment for life to America. 
 No one seriously believed that he was implicated in the 
 conspiracy, although he had undoubtedly been approached 
 by Pichegru and Cadoudal with the view of securing his 
 co-operation ; but his military reputation, second only to 
 that of Bonaparte himself, was naturally obnoxious to 
 the First Consul, who saw in him a stumbling-block in 
 the path of his ambition which must be removed at all 
 costs. 
 
 One day soon after Moreau had been arrested, 
 Bernadotte came to Madame R6camier in great alarm to 
 inform her that he had just received a message from the 
 First Consul, requiring his presence at the Tuileries. He 
 had apparently forgotten all about his grand scheme for 
 safeguarding the Constitution, and was fearful lest his 
 frequent interviews with Moreau at the latter's country 
 house should have compromised him with the Govern- 
 ment. Madame Recamier made him promise to return 
 and let her know the result of his interview with Bonaparte, 
 and anxiously awaited him. 
 
 When he arrived he seemed preoccupied, but more easy 
 in his mind. In answer to her inquiries, he told her that 
 Bonaoarte had received him cordially, and proposed that 
 he should throw in his lot with him, pointing out that the 
 country had now declared in his favour, and that opposition 
 to his plans could only end in disaster. He had concluded 
 by asking Bernadotte whether he would march with him 
 and with France, or hold aloof. 
 
 Madame Recamier, who seems to have summed up her 
 friend's character with tolerable accuracy, and suspected 
 that personal ambition was at the root of all his intrigues, 
 was not in the least surprised when Bernadotte added, a 
 little shamefacedly, for she had been a witness of all his 
 
 61
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 vapouring about liberty and republican principles, that he 
 had felt that he had no alternative but to promise Bonaparte 
 a loyal co-operation. 
 
 After Napoleon became Emperor honours were showered 
 upon Bernadotte. He was made a Marshal of the Empire, 
 and in 1806 created Prince de Ponte-Corvo; nevertheless 
 ill-feeling always existed between him and Napoleon, and 
 the latter found means to give proof of this, even in the 
 favours he bestowed upon him. 
 
 6s
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 Napoleon becomes Emperor — He desires that his Court shall 
 rival that of the ancient monarchy — Madame de Remusat's and 
 Madame de StaeTs accounts of it — Creation of a nobility — 
 Napoleon wishes to attach Madame Recamier to the Court — 
 Sinister motives attributed to him — Fouche's visits to Clichy 
 — His conversation with Madame Recamier — Advises her to 
 apply for the post of dame du palais to the Empress — His 
 insinuations — Annoyance and alarm of Madame Recamier — 
 Visits Caroline Murat at Neuilly — Fouche also of the party — 
 Caroline seconds Fouche's 'efforts — She lends Madame Recamiei 
 her box at the Theatre Francais — The Emperor's undisguised 
 admiration for Madame Recamier — He commissions Fouche to 
 offer her the post of dame du palais — She declines it — Fouchc's 
 anger and threats — Jacques Recamier's bank in difficulties — 
 His application for assistance refused by the Bank of France 
 — Recamier's bank stops payment — Courage of Madame 
 Recamier under her reverses — Universal sympathy which she 
 arouses — Her letter to Camille Jordan — Napoleon's character- 
 istic remark — Letters from Madame de Stael and Bernadotte 
 
 On May 18 of that year the curtain was rung down on 
 the farce of republican government, and the Empire of 
 Charlemagne was revived in the person of the Corsican 
 adventurer who had so long been monarch in everything 
 but name. 
 
 It was scarcely to be expected that Madame Recamier 
 would witness the despot who had so recently deprived 
 her of two of her most cherished friends ascend the vacant 
 
 63
 
 MADAME RiiCAMIER 
 
 throne with any great degree of satisfaction, but true to 
 the principle which she had always observed of ignoring, 
 as far as possible, all political distinctions, she continued 
 to extend her hospitality to both the members of the new 
 aristocracy and the representatives of the old regime. 
 Unfortunately, as it proved for her, the latter pre- 
 dominated among her friends, and thus gave to her 
 receptions a complexion which the fair hostess herself 
 would have been the first to disclaim. 
 
 Napoleon was fully resolved to leave no stone unturned 
 to add to the splendour of his Court, which he intended 
 should emulate that of the ancient monarchy. The pon- 
 derous regulations of Louis XVI. were taken down from 
 their shelves in the library of St. Cloud, and carefully 
 consulted in order that a code of etiquette might be drawn 
 up for the use of the new Court. The Empress sent for 
 Madame Campan, who had been First Lady of the Bed- 
 chamber to Marie Antoinette, and questioned her minutely 
 concerning the manners and customs of the late Queen of 
 France ; and Madame de Remusat tells us in her memoirs 
 that she was instructed to take copious notes of Madame 
 Campan's answers, and then pass them on to the Emperor, 
 who was collecting similar memoranda from all sides. 
 
 When once launched on a course of ceremonial, the 
 work went merrily on. "Whoever," says Madame de 
 Stael, "could suggest an additional piece of etiquette, 
 propose an additional reverence, a new mode of knocking 
 at the door of an antechamber, a more ceremonious method 
 of presenting a petition or folding a letter, was received as 
 if he had been a benefactor of the human race. The code 
 of Imperial etiquette is the most remarkably authentic 
 record of human baseness that has been treasured up by 
 history." 
 
 64
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 It was one of Napoleon's favourite maxims that an 
 aristocracy is the chief prop of a throne ; and no sooner 
 had he assumed the Imperial crown than he proceeded to 
 create a new nobility to replace that of the old regime. 
 Talleyrand became Prince de Benevento ; Berthier Prince 
 de Neufchatel ; Murat, whose father was a little innkeeper 
 in Perigord, and whose mother went out charing at a franc a 
 day, was made Grand Duke of Berg ; Savary, who had 
 superintended the murder of the young Due d'Enghien, 
 received as his reward the duchy of Rovigo ; while counts 
 were created by the dozen 1 and barons by the score, and 
 endowed with the revenues of the conquered territories 
 and the confiscated property of the emigres to enable them 
 to support their new dignities. 
 
 If rigid ceremonial and high-sounding titles had been 
 all that was required to give distinction to the Court of 
 the First Empire, there would have been enough and to 
 spare. There is, however, another element which has to 
 be taken into consideration in the formation of a Court. 
 That element is woman. In that direction Napoleon soon 
 found that his power, great as it was, had its limitations. 
 He could create dukes, and barons, and counts ; he could 
 enrich the humble and ennoble the obscure ; but he could 
 not make plain women beautiful or dull women witty. 
 His ill-advised harshness had deprived his Court of the 
 first wit in France, and he was, therefore, doubly anxious 
 that the first beauty, courted as she was both by the old 
 nobility and the new society, should adorn his palace. 
 Moreover, he was fully alive to the fact that the salons of 
 Paris were distinctly hostile to his Government, and that at 
 
 1 All the members of the Senate indiscriminately were ennobled, and 
 given what Cambaceres, in announcing the imperial edict, called " the 
 majestic title of Count." 
 
 65
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 receptions like those of Madame Recamier his ambitious 
 schemes were wont to be discussed, and treated with scant 
 respect. He, therefore, sent for Fouche, who had lately 
 been reinstated in his old office of Minister of Police, and 
 instructed him to make overtures to Madame Recamier with 
 the object of inducing her to join the Imperial Household. 
 
 A far less creditable motive than that of merely under- 
 mining Madame Recamier's social influence, and, at the 
 same time, of adding lustre to his Court has frequently 
 been ascribed to Napoleon, and it is significant that this 
 view of the matter is taken not only by the lady's intimate 
 friends, who were for the most part hostile to the Emperor, 
 but also by impartial chroniclers of those times, like 
 Bourrienne and Madame Junot. Whether Napoleon 
 really hoped to succeed where his brother Lucien had so 
 conspicuously failed it is very difficult to say ; but it is 
 certain that Fouche, who had as little scruple about 
 pandering to his master's vices as Cardinal Dubois had to 
 those of the Regent Orleans, believed such to be the case, 
 and acted accordingly. 
 
 When, in the summer of 1805, the Recamiers moved 
 as usual to Clichy, Fouche became a frequent visitor. 
 Madame Recamier had no particular liking for the Police 
 Minister, who had been one of the worst of the Terrorists, 
 and whose name was held in abhorrence by all the Lyonnais 
 on account of the cruelties perpetrated by him in their city 
 in 1794; and she was, moreover, not a little surprised 
 that so busy a man should be able to find leisure for 
 country visiting. Still she was not unwilling to avail her- 
 self of his influence to aid some of the unfortunate people 
 who had embroiled themselves with the Government, and 
 were constantly applying to her to make intercession for 
 them with her powerful friends. 
 
 00
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 One afternoon Fouche begged for a private interview, 
 and Madame Recamier gave him an appointment for the 
 following day. He arrived punctually, and was shown 
 into the salon where his hostess was awaiting him. 
 
 The Police Minister opened the conversation by deplor- 
 ing the opposition to the new Government displayed by so 
 many of the habitues of Madame Recamier's salon — a 
 feeling which, he observed, had been gradually increasing 
 ever since the dismissal of her father, M. Bernard, from 
 the Post Office. This antagonism — for which there was 
 no adequate reason, since Napoleon had treated M. Bernard 
 with great indulgence — had, he declared, seriously annoyed 
 the Emperor. He strongly advised her to avoid every 
 shadow of offence, as Napoleon was easily irritated, and 
 concluded by reminding her that her friend the young 
 and lovely Duchesse de Chevreuse had, like herself, shown 
 more than coldness to the new dynasty, but had been 
 promptly reduced to submission by a threat that her pro- 
 perty should be confiscated. " Now," added the crafty 
 Minister, " the house of De Luynes and their kinsmen, 
 the Montmorencies, are only too glad to accept for the 
 Duchesse de Chevreuse a place as dame du palais to the 
 Empress Josephine. The Emperor since the day when he 
 first met you has never forgotten you. Be prudent, and 
 do not wound his feelings." 
 
 Madame Recamier, not a little astonished at this advice, 
 thanked the Minister for the interest he took in her wel- 
 fare, and disclaimed all concern in politics ; but asserted 
 that it was impossible for her to abandon her friends. 
 The conversation did not go any further that day, and 
 presently Fouche took his leave. 
 
 Some time afterwards, when Fouch6 was walking with his 
 fair hostess in the pai k at Clichy, he said to her, with a smile : 
 
 67
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 " Can you guess whom I was talking with about you 
 for nearly an hour last evening ? With the Emperor." 
 
 " But he scarcely knows me ! " 
 
 " Since the day when he first met you, he has never for- 
 gotten you, and although he complains that you have 
 ranged yourself on the side of his enemies, he does not lay 
 the blame on your own feelings, but on your friends." 
 
 Fouche then insisted that Madame Recamier should 
 tell him her real feelings with regard to the Emperor. 
 
 She replied, with perfect frankness, that at first she had 
 been attracted towards him by the glamour of his victories 
 and the great services he had rendered to France, and that, 
 on the one occasion on which they had met, she had been 
 favourably impressed with his simple and natural manners ; 
 but that his persecution of her friends, the exile of Madame 
 de Stael, the banishment of Moreau, and the execution of 
 the poor young Due d'Enghien had checked her enthu- 
 siasm for him, and alienated her sympathies. 
 
 Without appearing to pay much attention to what 
 Madame Recamier had said, Fouche then boldly broached 
 the subject which had brought him thither. He advised 
 her to apply for a place at Court, and took it upon him- 
 self to assure her that her request would be immediately 
 granted. 
 
 This unexpected overture struck Madame Recamier 
 with astonishment and dismay, for she felt an invincible 
 repugnance to the position it was suggested she should 
 fill. Apprehensive of giving offence, however, she couched 
 her refusal in the most courteous language at her com- 
 mand, observing that she was highly flattered at the 
 Minister's proposal, but that the simplicity of her tastes, 
 her natural timidity which contact with the world had not 
 succeeded in overcoming, her love of independence, and, 
 
 68
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 above all, her husband's position in commercial circles, 
 which involved constant entertaining, all precluded the 
 possibility of her accepting so important a post. 
 
 Fouche, however, made light of all these objections, 
 protesting that the office would leave her entirely free ; 
 and then, seizing with adroitness on the only inducement 
 which would be likely to weigh with so generous a woman, 
 he pointed out the important services which she would be 
 in a position to render to the oppressed of all classes, the 
 many grievances she would be able to bring before the 
 Emperor, which might otherwise escape his notice. He 
 laid great stress upon the ascendency which a woman of 
 so noble and disinterested a character, and endowed with 
 such ravishing charms ought to be able to exercise over 
 the mind of the Emperor. " He has not yet," he added, 
 " met a woman worthy of him, and no one knows what 
 the love of Napoleon might be if he attached himself to a 
 virtuous woman. Assuredly he would permit her to exer- 
 cise over his mind a mighty influence, which would be 
 wholly for good." 
 
 Fouche grew quite eloquent in expatiating on the great 
 benefits to humanity which would be sure to follow the 
 conquest of the Emperor's heart, and did not notice the 
 growing disgust with which his companion was listening 
 to his odious insinuations. However, fearful of offending 
 him, she succeeded in mastering her righteous indignation, 
 and, with an affectation of good humour, told Fouche that 
 he was altogether too romantic and overrated the influence 
 of pretty women ; and the Police Minister left her, by no 
 means dissatisfied with the result of his mission. 
 
 Poor Madame Recamier was terribly upset by what had 
 passed, but buoyed herself up with the hope that Fouche's 
 offer had been made on his own responsibility, and not on 
 
 69
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 that of his master. She, however, sent for Mathieu de 
 Montmorency, the one friend in whose discretion she 
 could place implicit confidence, and told him all that had 
 occurred. Montmorency recognised at once the danger of 
 her position, but could only advise her to await further 
 developments, and, in the meantime, to exercise great 
 prudence and reserve. 
 
 Shortly after Fouche's visit, Madame Recamier, in 
 response to a message from the Princess Caroline 
 (Madame Murat), went to call upon her at Neuilly, the 
 country seat which her brother had lately given her. 
 The princess received her very cordially, and invited her 
 to breakfast with her a few days later. When she arrived 
 on the morning in question, she found, to her intense 
 annoyance, that Fouche was also to be of the party ; and 
 she suspected that a trap had been laid for her — a suspicion 
 which was confirmed when, on rising from the breakfast- 
 table, her hostess proposed a walk, and suggested that the 
 Police Minister should escort them. 
 
 After a little desultory conversation on ordinary 
 topics, Fouche, as she had anticipated, returned to the 
 attack. He told the princess of the proposal he had 
 made to Madame Recamier, and of the latter's objections, 
 and begged her to use her influence with her friend to 
 induce her to accept a post in every way so desirable. 
 
 The princess expressed herself much pleased at Fouche's 
 project, and — what must have appeared to her guest not a 
 little singular, since she pretended that this was the first 
 she had heard about it — brought forward " a hundred 
 arguments " to persuade her to consider it in a favourable 
 light. She concluded by saying, " in a tone of most 
 sincere friendship," that, if Madame Recamier would apply 
 for the post of dame du palais, she would endeavour to get 
 
 70
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 her into her own service, as Napoleon had placed the 
 establishments of his sisters on the same footing as that of 
 the Empress. In this way, she added, she would be able 
 to screen her from the jealousy of Josephine, whose sus- 
 picions might be aroused if so beautiful a lady of honour 
 was placed about her own person. 
 
 Madame Recamier, although now more than ever 
 determined that nothing should induce her to consent to 
 such an arrangement, thought it best to temporise, and, 
 therefore, promised to give the matter further considera- 
 tion, with which the princess and Fouche were fain to be 
 content. As she was leaving, the former, remembering 
 that her friend had always expressed great admiration for 
 Talma's acting, offered her the use of her own box at the 
 Theatre Francais, which was on the grand tier, exactly 
 opposite to that of the Emperor, whenever she cared to 
 avail herself of it; and, next day, the following note was 
 forwarded to the management of the theatre : 
 
 "Neuilly, October 14. 
 
 " Her Royal Highness, the Princess Caroline, informs 
 the management of the Thdatre Francois that, from this 
 date until a new order be issued, her box is to be open to 
 Madame Recamier, to those who accompany her, or to 
 those to whom she may give permission. Persons 
 belonging to the household of the Princess, unless 
 admitted or expressly named by Madame Recamier, cease 
 from this moment to have the right of presenting them- 
 selves. 
 
 " Ch. De Longchamps, 
 
 " The Secretary of Orders to the Princess Caroline P 
 
 Madame Recamier only made use of the box twice. 
 
 71
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 On both occasions it happened, either by accident or 
 intention, that the Emperor was also present, and levelled 
 his lorgnettes so persistently at the lady opposite, that it 
 was rumoured among the courtiers, always on the watch 
 to note their master's slightest movement, that the 
 banker's beautiful wife was on the road to high favour. 
 
 Meanwhile Fouche continued his negotiations, and one 
 day came to Clichy in high spirits, and, taking Madame 
 Ricamier on one side, said, with a triumphant chuckle : 
 
 " You can no longer refuse ; it is not I now, but the 
 Emperor himself who offers you the post of dame du 
 palais, and I am commissioned to offer it in his 
 name." 
 
 So little did Fouch£ imagine the possibility of a refusal, 
 that he walked away to join the rest of the company 
 without even waiting for a reply. 
 
 It was now no longer possible for Madame R6camier to 
 avoid giving a definite answer ; and so, when her husband 
 came to Clichy to dine that evening, she informed him of 
 the offer that had been made her, and of her great 
 reluctance to accept it. 
 
 The banker fully sympathised with her feelings in the 
 matter, and left her free to act as she thought best ; and, 
 accordingly, the next time Fouch6 presented himself at 
 Clichy, she told him, courteously yet firmly, that she had 
 finally decided to decline the honour the Emperor wished 
 to confer upon her. 
 
 The Police Minister was furious, and, carried away by 
 his indignation, broke out into a storm of reproaches 
 against Madame R6camier's friends, especially Mathieu 
 de Montmorency, whom he accused of having " prepared 
 this insult for the Emperor." He indulged in a violent 
 tirade against the old nobility, to whom he said the 
 
 7*
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 Emperor showed a fatal indulgence, and left Clichy 
 vowing vengeance. 
 
 Madame Recamier was soon to discover what this 
 refusal was to cost her. One Saturday, in the autumn of 
 the following year, Jacques Recamier came to his wife, 
 looking very much disturbed. He told her that his bank 
 had lately become involved in a series of misfortunes 
 owing to the financial panic in Spain ; and now things 
 had come to such a pass that, unless, by the following 
 Monday, he could obtain from the Bank of France the 
 accommodation for which he had that day applied, he 
 would be compelled to suspend payment. The sum he 
 required to tide over his difficulties was a comparatively 
 small one — a million francs (,£40,000) — and, as he had 
 ample security to offer, and the Bank of France had lately 
 shown itself desirous of doing everything in its power to 
 re-establish public credit, he had little fear of his appli- 
 cation being refused. Still he could not help feeling 
 extremely anxious ; and begged Madame Recamier to do 
 all the honours of their usual Sunday dinner-party, which 
 it was impossible to countermand at so short a notice 
 without exciting suspicion, as he himself felt that he would 
 be unable to summon up sufficient courage to be present. 
 He would go into the country until he got his answer on 
 the Monday. 
 
 Such a revelation was, naturally, a great shock to the 
 young wife, accustomed from childhood to a life of ease 
 and luxury, whose every whim it had been the delight of 
 her husband to gratify as soon as expressed, and who had 
 never been permitted to trouble her pretty head about 
 money matters. But she did her utmost to cheer her 
 disconsolate spouse ; and, on the following evening, when 
 her guests arrived, they found her as lovely and smiling 
 
 73
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 as ever, and no one would have suspected the terrible 
 effort that it cost their hostess to preserve her composure, 
 or the ruin which menaced the house where they were 
 being so hospitably entertained. 
 
 A few hours later her worst fears were realised. The 
 all-important loan was harshly refused, and, on the same 
 day, Recamier's bank stopped payment. 
 
 The sensation caused by this catastrophe was immense, 
 for the bank was one of the wealthiest in France, and 
 many smaller houses, both in Paris and in the provinces, 
 were involved in its fall. In financial circles general 
 astonishment was expressed at the refusal of the Govern- 
 ment to assist Recamier, and thus prevent what they well 
 knew must cause widespread disaster. There can be little 
 doubt, however, that Napoleon, who manipulated banks 
 and bourses as readily as he did armies and navies, was 
 responsible for this otherwise unaccountable action on the 
 part of the authorities of the Bank of France. 
 
 Madame Recamier, aware that she herself was indirectly 
 the cause of her husband's failure, bore this terrible 
 reverse of fortune without a murmur, and while Jacques 
 Recamier voluntarily surrendered everything to his 
 creditors, who, as a proof of their esteem and confidence, 
 nominated him head of the liquidators of the bank, she 
 parted with her jewellery to the last trinket. The splendid 
 house in the Rue du Mont Blanc was at once advertised 
 for sale, but as a purchaser for so valuable a property was 
 not immediately forthcoming, Madame Recamier gave up 
 her own apartments, which were let furnished to Prince 
 Pignatelli, reserving for herself only a small drawing- 
 room on the ground floor, the windows of which opened 
 on to the garden. The house was finally sold, two 
 years later, to M. Mosselman, the banker, in whose 
 
 74
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 counting-house the famous strategist Jomini was at one 
 time a clerk. 
 
 The following letter, addressed to her old friend Camille 
 Jordan, will show with what fortitude Madame Recamier 
 endured a misfortune which would have utterly crushed 
 most women : 
 
 "Dear Camille, — Your letter has come as a very 
 charming consolation to me in the midst of my troubles. 
 I have read it to M. Recamier, who has been much 
 touched by the kindly interest you take in us. The 
 affection of my friends sustains my courage. Although 
 my misfortune was a totally unexpected one, I am quite 
 resigned to my fate ; and I have had the happiness of 
 being able by my care and attention to soften the grief of 
 my husband and family. And, besides, dear Camille, ought 
 not I to tHank God that in keeping in store for me such 
 bitter calamities, He has given me friends to enable me to 
 support them ? . . . "J. R." 
 
 The attentions which Madame Recamier received at this 
 time of unmerited misfortune were highly creditable to 
 French society. She was the object of universal sympathy 
 and respect ; her door was simply besieged with callers, 
 and she became, if it were possible, an even greater object 
 of admiration than she had been before. " They would 
 not have shown so much respect to the widow of a marshal 
 of France killed on the field of battle ! " Napoleon sarcas- 
 tically observed, when Junot, Due d'Abrantes, joined him 
 in Germany, full of the catastrophe which was the talk of 
 Paris, and the widespread interest the innocent victim of 
 it was arousing. 
 
 Madame de Stael wrote to her friend a letter full of 
 womanly sympathy : 
 
 75
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 "Geneva, November 17, 1806. 
 
 11 Ah, my dear Juliette, what grief have I experienced 
 at the dreadful news which I have received ! How I curse 
 my exile which prevents me from being near you and 
 pressing you to my heart ! 
 
 " You have lost all that pertains to the ease and luxury 
 of life ; but, were such a thing possible, you are more 
 beloved and more interesting than you were before this 
 misfortune overtook you. I am going to write to M. 
 Recamier, who has my sympathy and respect. But tell 
 me, will my hope of seeing you here this winter be only a 
 dream ? If you would care to pass three months in a circle 
 where you would be fondly cared for. . . . But in Paris 
 also you inspire this same feeling. Still, at least, I will go 
 to Lyons, or as near as my forty leagues will allow me, to 
 behold you, to embrace you, and to tell you that I love 
 you more tenderly than any woman I have ever known. 
 I have nothing to say to you by way of consolation, unless 
 it is to assure you that you will be more beloved and 
 honoured than ever ; and that those admirable character- 
 istics of yours — generosity and kind-heartedness — will, in 
 spite of yourself, become known through these misfortunes 
 as they never would have been without them. 
 
 " Certainly, in comparing your present position with 
 what it was, you are a loser ; but, if it were possible for 
 me to envy any one whom I love, I would gladly give 
 all I have to be you. Beauty without an equal in Europe, 
 reputation without a stain, a proud and generous heart — 
 what a wealth of happiness still left in this sad world 
 through which one passes bereft of so much one values ! 
 Dear Juliette, let our friendship become a closer one. 
 Let it be no longer simple, generous services that have all 
 come from you, but a regular correspondence, a reciprocal 
 
 76
 
 AND HE» FRIENDS 
 
 need of confidence, a life together. Dear Juliette, it is 
 you who will be the means of my returning to Paris — 
 for you will always be an all-powerful person, and, as you 
 are younger than I am, you will close my eyes, and my 
 children will be your friends. My daughter has mingled 
 her tears with yours and mine this morning. Dear Juliette, 
 we have enjoyed the luxury which surrounded you ; your 
 fortune has been ours, and I feel myself ruined since you 
 are no longer rich. Believe me, there is still happiness 
 left when one knows oneself to be beloved. Benjamin 1 
 wishes to write to you ; he is deeply moved. Mathieu 2 
 has written me a very touching letter about you. Dear 
 friend, let your heart be at ease in the midst of these 
 misfortunes. Alas ! neither death nor the indifference of 
 friends threaten you, and those are incurable wounds. 
 Adieu, dear angel, adieu ! With reverence do I kiss your 
 lovely face. 
 
 "Necker de StaEl-Holstein." 
 
 Bernadotte, who was with the army in North Germany, 
 also wrote to offer his condolence. 
 
 " A sprain of my right hand at first prevented me from 
 replying to your letter. Scarcely had I recovered the 
 use of it when operations recommenced, and I was struck 
 on the head by a bullet. This wound has kept me in 
 bed for a month. 
 
 " I am far from deserving your reproaches, as General 
 Junot will, perhaps, bear witness. I heard through him 
 of the beginning of your troubles, the evening before 
 Austerlitz. 3 I left him, at eleven o'clock at night, with 
 
 1 Benjamin Constant. 2 Mathieu de Montmorency. 
 
 3 This must have been a slip of the pen. It was Auerstadt that the 
 marshal meant. Austerlitz was fought in the previous year. 
 
 77
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 the assurance that I was going to write to you on my 
 return to my tent ; and he charged me with a thousand 
 messages. My head and heart were full of your affairs, 
 and I described to you all the pain which your reverse of 
 fortune occasioned me. While I was writing and thinking 
 of you, the thought occurred to me that, at dawn of day, 
 I was to aid in deciding the fate of the world. When 
 friendship, tenderness, and sympathy excite a loving heart, 
 it feels deeply all that it expresses. Since then I have not 
 ceased to give you my prayers and best wishes ; but, 
 although fated to love you for ever, I dared not run the 
 risk of wearying you with my letters. Adieu ! If you 
 still think of me, believe that you are my chief thought, 
 and that nothing equals the sweet and tender friendship I 
 entertain for you." 
 
 The kindness and sympathy she met with on every side 
 were, of course, very gratifying to Madame Recamier, but 
 unfortunately money made all the difference, and without 
 money she was well aware that, although she might retain 
 her friends, she could no longer continue to lead society. 
 
 ?«
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 Coppct — Sainte-Beuve's description of it — Madame Recamier 
 visits Madame de Stael — Prince Augustus of Prussia — He falls 
 in love with Madame Recamier — He tries to induce her to 
 obtain a divorce — Her letter to her husband — His reply — 
 Madame Recamier returns to Paris — Prince Augustus's letters 
 ■ — She refuses to marry him — Her rendezvous with him at 
 Schaffhausen — Meets him again in 1814 — She gives him her 
 portrait by Gerard — His letter to her before his death — 
 Madame Recamier's conduct considered — She visits Madame 
 de Stael at Chaumont and Fosse — La petite poste — Madame de 
 Stael's visit to the theatre at Blois — " Surrounded by a 
 Court " — Publication and suppression of De U Allemagne — 
 Madame de Stael is banished from France — Her despair 
 
 The traveller in Switzerland, passing along Lake Leman — ■ 
 that lovely lake immortalised by Byron — from Lausanne 
 to Geneva, sees, on its north-western shore, a little village, 
 all the habitations of which seem to nestle to a central 
 stately structure. The village is Coppet, and the central 
 edifice the Chateau de Necker, once the home of Madame 
 de Stael. 
 
 "What Ferney was to Voltaire," says Sainte-Beuve, 
 " Coppet was to Madame de Stael, but with a much more 
 poetic halo around it, and with a nobler life. Both reigned 
 in their exile, but Coppet has counteracted and almost 
 dethroned Ferney. We of the present generation rank 
 Ferney below Coppet. The beauty of the site, the woods 
 
 79
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 which shade it, the sex of the poet, the enthusiasm that 
 we breathe there, the elegance of the company, the glory 
 of their names, the rambles by the lake, the mornings in 
 the park, the passions and the mysteries that we may 
 suppose inevitable there, all combine to enchant our con- 
 ception of this abode. Coppet is the Elysium with which 
 all the soul-children of Jean-Jacques would fain endow the 
 lady of their dreams." 1 
 
 It was, at once, a refuge for the persecuted and an 
 intellectual centre, where proscribed politicians and dis- 
 tinguished men of letters from all parts of Europe came 
 to pay homage to the foremost woman of her time. 
 There were often as many as thirty people in the house, 
 including strangers and friends. The most frequent 
 visitors were Benjamin Constant, August Wilhelm von 
 Schlegel, Comte Sabran, Simonde de Sismondi, the 
 historian, Bonstetten of Geneva, Prosper de Barante, and 
 Mathieu de Montmorency. Discussions on a variety of 
 subjects, literary, philosophical, and political, began at 
 eleven o'clock in the morning, the hour when the 
 company assembled for breakfast, were resumed at 
 dinner, or in the interval between dinner and supper, 
 and continued until midnight. Famous authors read 
 chapters from their manuscript works, poets recited their 
 masterpieces, and tragedies and comedies, often written 
 for the occasion by Madame de Stael or one of her friends, 
 were performed by the house-party. 
 
 It was to this charming mansion that, in the summer of 
 1807, Madame Recamier, who had recently suffered a 
 severe blow though the death of her mother Madame 
 Bernard, from whom she had never been separated since 
 childhood, came in response to a warm invitation from its 
 
 1 Critiques et Portraits litteraires, iii. 342. 
 80
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 illustrious chatelaine^ in search of the rest and change she 
 so much needed ; and it was here that she was destined to 
 meet with a most romantic adventure. 
 
 It happened that, at the time of her visit, the mistress of 
 Coppet had extended her hospitality to another victim of 
 misfortune — Prince Augustus of Prussia, the nephew of 
 Frederick the Great, a handsome and chivalrous young 
 man of four-and-twenty, who had been taken prisoner at 
 the battle of Saalfeld, where his brother Louis had 
 been killed, and was now held as a kind of hostage by 
 Napoleon. 
 
 The prince's heroism on that fatal field, his intense 
 grief for the death of his brother, to whom he had been 
 devotedly attached, and the misfortunes of his country all 
 combined to surround him in Madame Recamier's eyes 
 with a halo of romance. The prince, on his part, fell 
 desperately in love with the beautiful Parisian, and, in spite 
 of the difficulties which his high rank naturally suggested, 
 conceived the project of inducing her to divorce her 
 husband and to marry him. He took his hostess into his 
 confidence, and that lady, whose poetical imagination 
 prompted her to favour a scheme that was calculated to 
 diffuse a sort of romantic interest over Coppet, readily 
 promised him her support. 
 
 To our modern ideas such a proposal seems both 
 repulsive and preposterous, more especially as Madame 
 Recamier had no cause for complaint against her husband, 
 but at the time of which we are writing it would be regarded 
 very differently. In Prussia divorce was authorised both by 
 the ecclesiastical and the canon law, and, at the beginning of 
 the nineteenth century, custom had made it so common 
 in Germany, upon grounds of complaint quite independent 
 of moral conduct, that no obloquy whatever attached to 
 
 81 w
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 it. There was nothing, therefore, very extraordinary in 
 Prince Augustus venturing to hope that Madame R6camier 
 would be willing to comply with his wishes, as Madame 
 de Stael had probably told him the strange story that was 
 current. Moreover, as we have said, the tie which bound 
 Madame Rdcamier to her husband was a purely nominal 
 one, and one which the Catholic Church itself pronounces 
 void ; and so, either because she returned, in some 
 measure at least, the prince's ardent affection, or, more 
 probably, because she was tempted by the brilliant prospect 
 held out to her, she yielded to his entreaties so far as to 
 consent to write to her husband, asking him to release her. 
 
 Jacques R£camier replied that he would set her free if 
 such was really her wish ; but, at the same time, he begged 
 leave to remind her of the care and affection he had always 
 lavished upon her, and pointed out the bitter grief such 
 an estrangement would be to him. 
 
 This tender and dignified letter made a great impression 
 on Madame Recamier, and filled her with remorse and 
 compassion. She pictured to herself the indulgent com- 
 panion of her girlhood — who, with all his faults, had been 
 the kindest and most generous of husbands — stripped of 
 the great fortune with which it had been his delight to 
 gratify her every whim, old and lonely. To abandon 
 him under such circumstances seemed impossible, and, 
 accordingly, though not without some regrets for the 
 great position she was relinquishing, she decided to 
 decline the prince's offer. She went back to Paris at the 
 end of the autumn with her mind made up, but without 
 informing her royal adorer, who had shortly before the 
 receipt of her husband's letter returned to Berlin, of the 
 futility of his hopes, relying upon time and absence to 
 
 soften his disappointment. 
 
 82
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 Meanwhile, the lovelorn prince, in blissful ignorance 
 of her decision, was endeavouring to obtain his family's 
 consent to the marriage, and frequent letters reminded 
 his beloved Juliette of her promise, and painted in glowing 
 terms the golden future which he was so eagerly antici- 
 pating. 
 
 " I hope," he writes, " that you have already received 
 my letter, No. 31, wherein I could but feebly express the 
 happiness which yours has given me : but, still, it will 
 convey to you some idea of the emotion which I felt at 
 receiving it and your portrait. I gazed for hours on this 
 enchanting portrait, and dreamed of a happiness that must 
 surpass all the delights that the imagination can offer. 
 What fate can be comparable to that of the man you 
 love ! ' 
 
 It was a task of no little difficulty for a Prussian prince 
 to carry on a correspondence with a lady who was the 
 object of Napoleon's resentment, and therefore certain to 
 be to some extent under police surveillance, without ex- 
 citing the suspicions of Fouche's myrmidons, and conse- 
 quently incurring the displeasure of the Emperor. We, 
 therefore, find him taking every precaution when writing 
 to conceal his identity. Thus he alludes to the King of 
 Prussia as " my relative " or " my cousin " ; to the Queen 
 as " my cousin's wife," and to the Prussian Government 
 as " our firm." In a letter announcing the appointment 
 of Hardenberg as Prime Minister, he says, " Some advan- 
 tageous changes have been made in our firm lately ; we 
 have secured an excellent head clerk, but the good results 
 we expect from this are still distant." 
 
 The prince was, of course, impatient to once more behold 
 his enchantress ; but the King of Prussia, fearing that, if 
 his young cousin set foot on French territory, he would 
 
 83
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 be arrested, absolutely forbade him to cross the frontier, 
 and an attack of small-pox, which nearly proved fatal, 
 put an end to the prosecution of his suit for a time at 
 least. 
 
 Madame R6camier, on her side, now that she was no 
 longer under the influence of Coppet and its romantic 
 surroundings, became convinced of the wisdom of her 
 decision. The religious scruples, which the prince's 
 arguments had never quite silenced, even when supported 
 by his handsome presence, were strengthened by reflection; 
 she shrank, too, from the scandal of a divorce, while the 
 thought of quitting her beloved Paris was repugnant to 
 her. She therefore wrote the prince a letter intended to 
 show him that his hopes were vain. 
 
 " J'ai eti frappe de la foudre en recevant voire lettre" 
 the poor young man replies ; but he did not accept his 
 dismissal — at least he insisted on seeing her once more. 
 Madame Recamier, however, refused to grant even this 
 request until the autumn of 1811, when she consented to 
 meet her adorer at SchafFhausen. 
 
 The infatuated prince at once set out for Switzerland, 
 without even waiting to obtain leave of absence from his 
 military duties, but the lady chose to exercise the feminine 
 prerogative of changing her mind, and did not keep the 
 appointment. The prince was deeply mortified at her 
 treatment of him. " At last I hope I am cured of a 
 foolish passion that I have cherished for four years," he 
 writes to his friend and confidante Madame de Staiil. 
 To Madame Recamier he writes more in sorrow than in 
 anger. 
 
 84
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 Prince Augustus of Prussia to Madame Recamier. 
 
 "SCHAFFHAUSEN, October l8ll. 
 
 " You have cruelly disappointed me. What I cannot 
 understand is that not being able or not wishing to see 
 me, you did not condescend to tell me so, and spare me a 
 useless journey of three hundred leagues. I leave to- 
 morrow for the high mountains of the Oberland and the 
 Petits Cantons. The wild nature of these districts will be 
 in harmony with the sadness of my thoughts, of which 
 you are the object. If, at last, you deign to reply to my 
 letter, please write to the city where I usually live, and to 
 which I intend to return before long." 
 
 In spite of this rebuff, Prince Augustus continued to 
 correspond with Madame Recamier until they met again, 
 in 1 8 14, when he entered Paris with the allied armies. 
 He was then in command of the Prussian artillery, and 
 before reaching the city besieged successively Maubeuge, 
 Landrecies, Phillipeville, Givet, and Longevy. From each 
 of these places he wrote to Madame Recamier, showing 
 how eagerly he was looking forward to their reunion. 
 
 " To-morrow," he writes, " I open the trenches round 
 Maubeuge, and in eighteen days I shall reduce it, even 
 supposing the defence obstinate. The desire of beholding 
 you once more will be a very powerful incentive to me to 
 push on the siege." 
 
 The friendship between the prince and Madame R6camier 
 was renewed, but, though his admiration for her was as 
 great as ever, nothing more was said about a divorce ; 
 indeed, the former appears to have already sought con- 
 solation for his disappointment in a kind of left-handed 
 marriage, the result of which — two daughters — were in 
 after years well known in Berlin and Paris society, and on 
 
 85
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 intimate terms with their royal father's first love. In 
 1 8 1 8, however, the prince commissioned Gerard to paint 
 the picture of " Corinne," which he presented to 
 Madame Recamier, " as an immortal souvenir of the 
 passion with which she had inspired him, and of the 
 glorious friendship which united Corinne and Juliette." 
 In exchange for this picture, Madame Recamier sent him 
 the famous portrait of herself by the same painter. The 
 prince had it hung in the gallery of his house in Berlin, 
 but after his death, which occurred in 1845, ^ was by 
 the terms of his will returned to the donor. 
 
 Some months before that event, when, although at the 
 time in perfect health, he seems to have had some pre- 
 sentiment of his approaching end, he wrote to Madame 
 Recamier a touching letter, in which he declares that " the 
 ring which she had given him he would wear to his 
 grave"; and there can be little doubt that, notwithstanding 
 her refusal to bear his name, she aiways remained mistress 
 of his heart. 
 
 It cannot be denied that in this affair with Prince 
 Augustus Madame Recamier comes before us in a very 
 unfavourable light ; and it is significant that her niece, 
 Madame Lenormant, usually so ready to explain away any 
 circumstance which casts the least reflection upon her aunt, 
 has practically nothing to say in exoneration of her con- 
 duct, but takes refuge in a judicious silence. Much, how- 
 ever, may be forgiven a woman so peculiarly situated as 
 was Madame Recamier ; and it is quite conceivable that 
 at the time she wrote the letter to her husband asking 
 him to release her from her marriage vows, she really 
 believed that he would welcome the severance of a tie 
 which must have been a very considerable strain on his 
 then limited resources. 
 
 86
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 On the other hand, nothing can possibly condone the 
 fact that for many months after she had apparently made 
 up her mind to reject the prince's offer, she continued to 
 keep him in suspense, unless, as one of her contemporaries 
 suggests, she had reason to imagine that he was not quite 
 so faithful to her as the ardent tone of his letters would 
 lead one to suppose. 
 
 Madame Recamier passed the years 1808 and 1809 
 partly in Paris, and partly at Coppet and Angervilliers, 
 where her friend Madame de Catellan lived. Madame de 
 Stael was at this time engaged upon her great work, 
 De U Allemagne, and did not leave Coppet during that 
 time. She was very fond of music and the drama, and 
 often organised amateur theatricals among her guests, as a 
 relaxation from her literary labours. Pictet de Sergy 
 speaks highly of her acting, and declares that she was 
 admirable both in comedy and tragedy. 
 
 " The great hall of the rez-de-chaussee of the chateau 
 was," he writes, " converted into a complete and perma- 
 nent theatre ; and there she and her friends acted not 
 merely comedy, but frequently tragedy. The Marquis 
 de Sabran, being of diminutive stature, appeared nearly 
 crushed under the helmet of Pyrrhus; Madame Recamier 
 represented Andromache, while Madame de Stael person- 
 ated with marvellous effect Hermione. From time to 
 time Madame de Stael left her feudal home, and trans- 
 ported all her noble artege to Geneva, where they gave 
 representations in the great building called the Douane, on 
 the Place du Molard. All the best society in the city 
 came down from the Rue des Granges or the Taconnerie 
 into this large hall of the common people — a place which 
 they seldom condescended to visit, especially at night — 
 
 87
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 borne thither by an irresistible curiosity. There I still see 
 Madame de Stael imposing and terrible in the role of 
 Phaedra, and Benjamin Constant, but not, as they have 
 lately reported him, personating Hippolytus in blue 
 spectacles which he absolutely refused to lay aside. The 
 Genevese were enthusiastically grateful to Madame de 
 Stael for her kindness in bringing among them her actors 
 and theatrical properties. I agree with her cousin that in 
 tragedy she produced truly great effects." 
 
 While Madame Recamier was at Coppet, in the autumn 
 of 1809, Racine's Phedre was performed. Madame ^de 
 Stael played the title-role, while Madame Recamier took 
 the part of Aricie. The classical costume was, of course, 
 admirably adapted to her style of beauty, and she was 
 pronounced a great success, in spite of her almost painful 
 nervousness. 
 
 The following summer Madame de Stael came as near 
 Paris as her forty leagues would allow her in order to 
 superintend the printing of De & Allemagne, which was to 
 appear in three volumes. She took up her residence at 
 the old chateau of Chaumont-sur-Loire, near Blois, where 
 Cardinal d'Amboise, Diana of Poictiers, and Catharine de 
 Medicis had formerly lived. The present owner of that 
 historic mansion, a M. Le Ray, a personal friend of 
 Madame de Stael, was at this time with his family in 
 America. 
 
 Madame Recamier, in response to a letter from her 
 friend, inviting her to the chateau of Catharine de Medicis, 
 u who did more harm in the world than you have done," 
 joined her there on her way back from the baths at Aix 
 towards the end of the summer, and found herself one of 
 a large house-party, including Adrien and Mathieu de 
 Montmorency, Prosper de Barante, August Wilhelm von 
 
 88
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 Schlegel, Comte de Sabran, and Benjamin Constant. 
 Soon after her arrival, however, the owner of the chateau 
 and his family returned unexpectedly from America, 
 whereupon Madame de Stael and her guests removed to 
 a farmhouse called Fosse, which had been placed at their 
 disposal by a M. de Salaberry, an old officer of the Ven- 
 dean wars. 
 
 M. de Salaberry had hitherto led a very lonely life, and 
 was regarded by his neighbours as a hermit. Madame de 
 Stael and her party, however, were nearly all musical ; one 
 had brought a guitar and another a harp ; and on the 
 evening of their arrival organised a kind of impromptu 
 concert. So astonished were the neighbouring peasants at 
 hearing such unusual sounds that they came flocking to 
 the house to find out what it could all mean ; and, while 
 Madame Recamier was singing, she suddenly made the 
 discovery that a large and appreciative audience had 
 gathered on the lawn outside the house. 
 
 It was during her visit to Fosse that she and Madame 
 de Stael invented a new form of amusement, which 
 subsequently became quite fashionable, called la petite 
 poste. After dinner the company used to gather round 
 a table covered with a green cloth, and write little notes 
 to one another. One day a gentleman of the neighbour- 
 hood, who had never given a thought in his life to 
 anything beyond hunting and shooting, called to take 
 Madame de StaeTs sons into the woods with him, and was 
 shown into the room where the whole house-party was 
 seated round the table intent on their new diversion. For 
 some minutes he regarded them with amazement, trying 
 vainly to comprehend what this busy but silent company 
 could be doing. Then Madame R6camier, in order to 
 put the visitor at his ease, wrote him with her pretty hand 
 
 89
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 a charming little note. But the sportsman, fearing she 
 wished to make fun of him, excused himself from 
 receiving it, on the plea that he could not read writing 
 except by candle-light. " We laughed a little," says 
 Madame de Stael, " at the rebuff which the benevolent 
 coquetry of our beautiful friend had received, and thought 
 that a note from her hand would not always have met 
 with the same fate." 1 
 
 But even this harmless party was soon to be broken up 
 by the malice of Napoleon. Madame de Stael had a most 
 fatal celebrity. At that time the opera of Cinderella was 
 creating a perfect furore in Paris. A provincial company 
 gave a representation of it at the little theatre at Blois, and 
 Madame de Stael went to see it. On leaving the theatre 
 at the conclusion of the performance, she was followed by 
 a crowd of curious people, anxious to get a view of the 
 celebrated exile. The stupid police immediately informed 
 the authorities in Paris that she went about " surrounded 
 by a Court." 
 
 Shortly after this incident, she finished correcting the 
 last proofs of De V ' Allemagne, the composition of which 
 had occupied her nearly six years, and was in high spirits 
 at the thought of its appearance. The book had passed 
 with a few alterations through the hands of the public 
 censor ; she had made all arrangements with a publisher 
 in Paris ; its popularity was expected to be so great that 
 ten thousand copies had been printed for a first edition ; 
 everything seemed to be going on smoothly, when her 
 implacable enemy again pounced down upon her ; the 
 whole of the edition was confiscated and destroyed by the 
 police ; the Prefect of Loire-et-Cher came to Foss6 to 
 require her to deliver up the manuscript, though, fortu- 
 
 1 Madame de StacTs Dix Annus d'Exil, p. 22^.. 
 
 90
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 nately, he was satisfied with a rough copy ; and, to put the 
 comble upon all, the authoress was ordered to leave France 
 in three days for ever. 
 
 Utterly prostrated by this double blow, the unfortunate 
 woman returned to Coppet — Coppet the home of romance, 
 the haunt of genius, where every luxury which money 
 could procure was at her command, but which this true 
 daughter of Paris would willingly have exchanged for a 
 garret in the Rue du Bac. Before leaving Fosse, however, 
 she wrote to Madame Recamier, whose turn it now was 
 to play the part of comforter. 
 
 Madame de StaEl to Madame Recamier. 
 
 "Dear Friend, — I have fallen into a state of frightful 
 melancholy. I am in utter despair at the thought of my 
 approaching departure, and, for the first time, I realise all 
 the misery of a condition which I fondly imagined would 
 be easy to bear. I counted also on the success of my 
 book to sustain me, and, now, here are six years of labour, 
 study, and travel almost entirely wasted. Do you fully 
 comprehend the singularity of this affair ? It is the first 
 two volumes, already approved by the censor, that have 
 been seized, and M. Portalis * knows no more than I do 
 what all this means. So I am exiled because I have 
 written a book which has been approved by the Emperor's 
 censors. Nor is this all. I could have printed my book 
 in Germany. I came of my own free will to submit it to 
 the censorship, under the impression that, if it came to 
 the worst, they would only prohibit the work. But can 
 people be punished who come voluntarily to submit to 
 their judges ? Dear friend, there is Mathieu, 2 the friend 
 
 1 The Censor. Mathieu de Montmorency. 
 
 9«
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 of twenty years, and I must leave him. And you, dear 
 angel, who have loved me on account of my misfortunes, 
 who have only known me during the period of my 
 adversity, who render life so sweet — I must leave you 
 also. Ah, mon Dieu ! I am the Orestes of exile, and 
 fate pursues me ! But God's will must be done, and I trust 
 that He will sustain me. For the last time I am listening 
 to that music of Pertozza that recalls your sweet face, 
 that charm which you possess apart from your beauty, 
 and so many of the pure and tranquil pleasures of this 
 summer. For the last time I press you once again to my 
 heart, and then the unknown future begins. I will 
 summon all my courage ; but thus to die to all one's 
 memories, to all one's affections, this is a terrible effort. 
 
 " I am encompassed by such a cloud of sorrow that I 
 know not what I write. ... I dare not finish. I should 
 be tempted to say, like M. Dubreuil to Pechmeja, * My 
 friend, thou above all shouldst be here.' " 
 
 9* 
 
 - ■ . it
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 Bernadotte becomes Crown-Prince of Sweden — His letter to 
 Madame Recamier — Royal admirers — Ludwig, Crown Prince 
 of Bavaria — George, Grand-Duke of Mecklenburg-Strelitz — 
 His adventure with Madame Recamier's cojicierge — His letter 
 to her in 1845 — Animosity of Napoleon against Madame 
 Recamier — The Government persecute Madame de Stael — 
 She resolves to fly to Sweden — Madame Recamier determines 
 to go to Coppet — Her friends endeavour to dissuade her — 
 Mathieu de Montmorency is exiled — Madame Recamier 
 arrives at Coppet — Madame Recamier is exiled from Paris — 
 She goes to Chalons — Monotony of her life there — Letter 
 from Madame de Stael — Madame Recamier removes to Lyons 
 — The Duchesse de Chevreuse — Her harsh treatment by 
 Napoleon — The Duchesse de Luynes — Her skill as a com- 
 positor — Simon Ballanche — His ugliness — His devotion to 
 Madame Recamier — Annoyances to which Madame Recamier 
 is subjected as an exile — A pressing invitation — Extraordinary 
 conduct of her host — His subsequent explanations — Visit 
 from the Duchesse d'Abrantes — Anecdote of Talma and the 
 Bishop of Troyes — Mathieu de Montmorency comes to Lyons 
 — Madame Recamier starts for Italy 
 
 While Madame Recamier was with Madame de Stael at 
 Fosse, her friend Marshal Bernadotte, since 1 806 Prince 
 de Ponte-Corvo, was unanimously elected heir to the 
 childless Charles XIII. by the Swedish Diet, who hoped 
 by so doing to propitiate Napoleon and preserve the 
 independence of their country. At the beginning of 
 
 93
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 October he set out for Stockholm, whence he wrote to 
 Madame Recamier to bid her farewell. 
 
 The Crown-Prince of Sweden to Madame Recamier. 
 
 "Stockholm, December 22, 18 10. 
 
 "Madame, — On leaving France for ever, I am filled 
 with regret that your absence from Paris has deprived me 
 of the pleasure of receiving your commands and bidding 
 you farewell. You were engaged in consoling a friend for 
 an approaching and, doubtless, life-long separation ; and I 
 felt constrained to postpone writing to you until some 
 future date. M. de Czernicheff has kindly undertaken to 
 convey to you my respects. We have long talks about 
 you, your estimable qualities, and the tender interest you 
 inspire in all who approach you. Adieu, madame, pray 
 receive the assurance of the affection which I have always 
 professed for you, and which neither time nor the ice of the 
 north can extinguish. 
 
 Charles Jean." 
 
 << 
 
 Some time before this Madame Recamier had made the 
 acquaintance of two other royal personages, Ludwig, 
 Prince-Royal — afterwards King of Bavaria — and George, 
 Grand-Duke of Mecklenburg-Strelitz. The former, who 
 is now, probably, best remembered through his infatuation 
 for the notorious adventuress Lola Montez — an infatuation 
 which ultimately cost him his throne — came to Paris in the 
 winter of 1808, and was extremely anxious to be presented 
 to the celebrated beauty of whom he had heard so much. 
 Madame Recamier, however, knowing that the Emperor 
 still regarded her salon and its habitues with anything but 
 a friendly eye, and unwilling to get the young prince into 
 trouble, declined to receive him ; and the latter, therefore, 
 
 94
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 had recourse to the intervention of a friend, who, aware of 
 the royal visitor's artistic tastes, wrote to Madame Recamier 
 the following diplomatic epistle : 
 
 Madame de Bondy to Madame Recamier. 
 
 " The Prince of Bavaria is extremely anxious, madame, 
 to carry away with him a correct impression of the lady 
 whom he has so long desired to know, and M. de Bondy 
 has been charged by His Royal Highness to ask your 
 permission to call at your house to see your portrait. M. de 
 Bondy would have asked your consent himself, but he has 
 been obliged to accompany the Prince to St. Cloud. He 
 has therefore commissioned me to make the request. This 
 time it is an official demand and no longer a favour. M. de 
 Bondy trusts that you will not refuse to the Prince the 
 privilege of admiring the chef d 1 ceuvre of Gerard, which you 
 have accorded to many persons ; and, if you will permit 
 him, he will accompany His Highness to your house either 
 on Saturday or Monday morning, whichever you prefer ; 
 or on any other day convenient to you. Should you be so 
 ill-natured as to go out precisely at the hour appointed, 
 the Prince may conclude that, if report has not deceived 
 him in regard to the charm of your appearance, it has 
 exaggerated the affability of your manners ; and I do not 
 think that the sight of your picture will diminish his 
 regret at not making the acquaintance of the original. 
 But this is not my business : I am only commissioned to 
 plead for the amateur in art. I await your reply with 
 impatience, and will hand it to M. de Bondy on his return 
 from St. Cloud. 
 
 " Believe me, madame, very sincerely yours, 
 
 "H. de Bondy." 
 95
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 After this letter, of course, Madame Recamier had no 
 alternative but to receive the prince, of whom she formed 
 a favourable impression, as did Madame de Stael, who 
 describes him in one of her letters as " un bon homme qui 
 a de l'esprit et de Tame"; but she does not appear to have 
 admitted him to the same degree of intimacy which she 
 accorded to the Grand-Duke of Mecklenburg-Strelitz, who 
 visited Paris about the same time. 
 
 Madame Recamier made the duke's acquaintance at a 
 bal-masque at the Opera, and, after talking to her for the 
 greater part of the evening, he begged permission to call 
 upon her. She refused to allow him to do so, however, 
 for the same reason which had prompted her to decline 
 the proffered friendship of the Prince of Bavaria — the fear 
 of compromising him with the Emperor, whom he had 
 come to Paris on purpose to propitiate. Undeterred by 
 her refusal, the young man wrote begging her to reconsider 
 her decision, and, at length, flattered by his persistence, 
 she consented, and named an evening when she received 
 only her most intimate friends, and there would be little 
 chance of any one reporting his visit to Napoleon. 
 
 The grand-duke arrived at the appointed hour, and, to 
 avoid recognition, left his carriage at some distance from 
 the house, and proceeded thither on foot. Finding the 
 door open, he attempted to glide past the porter's lodge 
 without being seen ; but the concierge was on the alert, 
 and the grand-duke had not gone far before he heard a 
 gruff voice calling out to him to stop. Unwilling to be 
 known even to the porter, he paid no attention, but 
 quickened his pace. The porter, his suspicions aroused, 
 followed. The grand-duke began to run. The concierge \ 
 now fully convinced that the intruder was a thief, ran 
 after him. The grand-duke reached the main staircase, 
 
 96
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 and rushed up ; but his pursuer was too quick for him. 
 Before he reached the salon door, the enraged concierge 
 seized him by the collar ; and the unfortunate young man 
 was being very roughly handled when Madame Recamier, 
 hearing the noise of the scuffle, came out to see what was 
 the matter, and released her royal visitor. 
 
 The grand-duke visited Madame Recamier again on 
 several occasions, and wrote to her frequently gracefully 
 worded little notes : 
 
 " May I dare ? Will you be so kind and generous ? 
 May I venture to come again to-morrow at the same 
 time ? I make this request with diffidence ; but if you 
 knew how strong is my feeling, and how much it has cost 
 me to keep away, perhaps, you will not only pardon me, 
 but say that my request is justified. I came to this city 
 with a heavy heart. My experiences here have been 
 painful. Do you wish me to carry away a grief heavier 
 to bear than all of them, from having seen an angel with- 
 out daring to approach her ? Pray, do not consider me 
 deserving of so cruel a fate, and pardon, if you can, my 
 apparent presumption. There is no one more capable of 
 appreciating you than myself, or of cherishing for you all 
 those feelings which you deserve, and which, alas ! you 
 will always inspire in every noble and sensitive heart. I 
 repeat that I write with diffidence, but not without a ray 
 of hope." 
 
 The admiration with which Madame Recamier inspired 
 the grand-duke was very far from being a mere passing 
 fancy — the light offspring of propinquity and youth. 
 Thirty-seven years later we find him writing to her from 
 Strelitz to beg her to send him the famous portrait of 
 herself by Gdrard, which, after the acith of Prince 
 Augustus of Prussia, had been returned to the donor. 
 
 97 o
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 The Grand-Duke of Mecklenburg-Strelitz 
 to Madame Recamier. 
 
 " Strelitz, December l, 1845. 
 
 " Madame, — If I have ever experienced a feeling of 
 diffidence it is to-day, when I have resolved not only to 
 write but to ask a favour of you ; yes, a great and very 
 important favour. When I think of the number of years 
 that have elapsed since I have had the happiness of seeing 
 you or of hearing from you directly, the step which I am 
 about to take seems very much like a rash one. I even 
 feel, alas ! that if you were to ask after reading my 
 signature, 'Who is this Grand-Duke of Mecklenburg- 
 Strelitz ? ' I should have no right to complain. This is 
 what reason says to me, but what says the heart ? Shall 
 I confess it to you, madame ? It says the contrary. It 
 tells me very plainly that the ravishing beauty with which 
 nature has endowed you is but the reflection of an adorable 
 soul ; and that such a soul cannot forget the person 
 whom it at one time deemed worthy of its esteem and 
 affection. 
 
 "Among the precious recollections which I owe to 
 you, there is one above all others that the memory never 
 ceases to recall with all the charm that attaches to it. It 
 is the eminently noble, generous, and amiable manner 
 with which you treated me after Napoleon had said 
 publicly in the salon of the Empress Josephine, that ' he 
 should regard as his personal enemy any foreigner who 
 frequented the salon of Madame Recamier. ' I can say 
 without exaggeration that I still think of this with emo- 
 tion, and that, on my knees, I desire to assure you anew 
 of my humble gratitude which will endure for ever. 
 
 "'But what is this favour which you wish to ask 
 
 98
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 me ?* I fancy I hear you inquire. It is your portrait, 
 madame, that same admirable portrait with which you 
 honoured the late Prince Augustus of Prussia, and which 
 I understand is to be returned to you. I repeat 
 madame, that I make this request with great diffidence ; 
 that I should have, perhaps, never have had the courage 
 to ask it did I not have it so inexpressibly at heart. But 
 if the worship of your memory can give any one the right 
 of possessing this treasure, pray believe, at least, that no 
 one has a better claim to it than myself. Nor is it I alone 
 who would have the right. My wife, my children, all my 
 family appreciate you as you deserve. They have listened 
 with delight to my reminiscences of you. We all look 
 upon you as the embodiment of perfect beauty and perfect 
 goodness. 
 
 " I have not the courage to add another word to my 
 letter ; but your heart is formed to understand it. 
 " George, Grand-Duke of 
 
 " Mecklenburg-Strelitz." 
 
 Madame Recamier declined to permit so valuable a 
 souvenir of herself to pass a second time out of the 
 possession of her family, but the grand-duke's letter is 
 interesting: as evidence that, at the time to which he refers, 
 Napoleon, so far from being satisfied with having ruined 
 Madame Recamier and her husband, was still further 
 incensed against her by the heroic fortitude with which 
 she had borne her reverses, and the universal -sympathy 
 which they had evoked. Moreover, he was compelled 
 to admit that, in spite of her changed circumstances, 
 Madame Recamier's social influence was practically un- 
 impaired ; and, as he could not endure the idea of a 
 society which did not derive all its eclat from himself, he 
 
 99
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 seems in time to have actually come to regard the poor 
 lady with the hatred of a rival. Of this malignity she 
 was soon to have a further proof. 
 
 After the sentence which banished her from French 
 soil had been passed upon her, Madame de Stael, as we 
 have mentioned, had returned to Coppet. From the 
 moment she arrived there, " dragging her wing like the 
 pigeon in La Fontaine," she was subjected to a series of 
 petty persecutions calculated to break the spirit of the 
 proudest woman. One prefect of Geneva, M. de Barante, 
 treated her with great civility : he was dismissed, and his 
 successor immediately went to the other extreme. She 
 accompanied her youngest son to Aix in Savoy, where 
 the physicians had prescribed for him a course of the 
 baths : before she had been there ten days, she received a 
 peremptory order to return to Coppet. She consoled her- 
 self with the society of Augustus Wilhelm von Schlegel, 
 who for the past eight years had been educating her son : 
 he was promptly accused of having insulted the French 
 nation, inasmuch as, in an essay which he had written, he 
 had given preference to the Phaedra of Euripides over 
 the Phedre of Racine, and was ordered to leave Geneva. 
 At length the poor woman's life became perfectly un- 
 endurable, and she determined to leave Coppet, and take 
 refuge with her husband's relatives in Sweden. 
 
 On being informed of Madame de StaeTs resolution, 
 Madame Recamier at once decided to set out for Coppet 
 to bid her talented and unfortunate friend farewell. But, 
 in order not to excite the attention of the police, who 
 at that time exercised the strictest surveillance over all 
 persons suspected of the least hostility to the Government, 
 she gave out that her destination was Aix in Savoy, from 
 the waters of which she had derived considerable benefit 
 
 100
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 the previous summer ; and asked for a passport to that 
 town. 
 
 The passport was granted, but the object of her journey 
 could be easily divined, and she received no lack of 
 warnings from her friends. Esmenard, one of the chiefs 
 of the Police, and an ardent admirer of Madame Recamier, 
 made strenuous efforts to dissuade her from visiting 
 Coppet, pointing out that her presence there could be of 
 no possible assistance to her friend, while it might entail 
 serious consequences to herself, as the Emperor would be 
 sure to visit with his displeasure any one who held com- 
 munication with a proscribed person, especially one so 
 obnoxious to him in every way as was Madame de Stael. 
 
 Madame Recamier, however, ridiculed the suggestion 
 that the visit of an innocent woman to an unhappy friend 
 on the eve of departure for a distant country could 
 possibly be construed into an act of hostility to the 
 Government ; and declared that, whatever might be the 
 consequences, she could not bring herself to refuse 
 Madame de Stael this last proof of affection. Accord- 
 ingly, on August 23 she started for Coppet. 
 
 A few days before Madame Recamier left Paris, 
 Mathieu de Montmorency arrived at Coppet, also on a 
 farewell visit to its chatelaine. The prefect of Geneva at 
 once notified the Government of his arrival there, and by 
 return of courier Montmorency received an order of exile 
 from the Minister of Police. 
 
 Poor Madame de Stael tells us that she u shrieked with 
 agony " on learning of the misfortune which she had 
 brought upon the kind-hearted Mathieu, and bitterly 
 reproached herself with having been the means of separa- 
 ting him from his family and friends. While she was in 
 this state, she received a letter from Madame Recamier, 
 
 101
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 announcing that she was on her way to Aix, and intended 
 breaking the journey at Coppet, where she would arrive 
 in two days' time. 
 
 Madame de Stael, fearful lest Montmorency's fate 
 should befall her beloved Juliette, at once despatched a 
 messenger to intercept her, and implore her not to come 
 to Coppet. To drive past Madame de StaeTs windows 
 and yet not to see her appeared to Madame Recamier 
 altogether out of the question, and it was with tears in 
 her eyes that the mistress of Coppet beheld her friend 
 enter the house where hitherto her arrival had been so 
 welcome. 
 
 Madame Recamier only remained one night at the 
 chateau, and then, instead of continuing her journey to 
 Aix, set out on her return to Paris. But, brief as had 
 been her stay, it had been duly notified to the Govern- 
 ment, and, on reaching Dijon, she was met by her 
 husband, who informed her that she had been exiled forty 
 leagues from Paris. 
 
 To any one who realises what Paris means to a French- 
 woman — that to her it is the world without which the rest 
 of France is but one huge void — will readily understand 
 that to a woman like Madame Recamier, who might 
 almost be said to live for society, such a sentence was in 
 reality worse than complete exile. Like the Peri at the 
 gate of Paradise, she might gaze, so to speak, on the joys 
 of the blessed, but might not enter to share therein. Nor 
 was this all. Under the odious system inaugurated by 
 Napoleon, the friend of the exile became as criminal as 
 the exile himself, and, thus, Madame Recamier found 
 herself cut off not only from Paris, but also from the 
 society of all her friends, with the exception of those who 
 happened to be in the same unfortunate position as herself. 
 
 102
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 Madame Recamier, however, continued her journey to 
 Paris, in spite of the prohibition which she had received, 
 and took an affectionate farewell of her friends. She pre- 
 served the strictest incognito, and saw no one but the 
 members of her own family, but the police were far too 
 wideawake for her presence to remain long unnoticed, and, 
 ere forty-eight hours had passed, her husband received the 
 following official communication : 
 
 "Paris, September 17, 1811. 
 
 " I request you, sir, to inform me, immediately on 
 receipt of this, where Madame Recamier is to be found at 
 the present moment, that I may execute the order of which 
 I gave you notice on the 2nd of this month. 
 
 44 Your obedient servant, 
 
 " Pasquier, 
 " Councillor of State, Prefect of Police, 
 " Baron of the Empire" 
 
 After this it was clearly out of the question for Madame 
 Recamier to remain any longer in Paris, and, accordingly, 
 the following day, she set out for Chalons-sur-Marne, 
 accompanied by her little niece, Amelie de Cyvoct, whom 
 she had recently adopted. It is to the works of this lady, 
 who married, in 1825, M. Charles Lenormant, a distin- 
 guished antiquary, that we are indebted for much that we 
 know about her celebrated aunt. 1 
 
 Chalons, where Madame Recamier took a suite of 
 rooms at the Pomme d'Or, was a dull little country town, 
 but it was not without its advantages. In the first place, 
 
 1 Souvenirs et Correspondance tires des papiers de Madame Recamier, 
 Madame Recamier les Amis de sa Jeunesse, and Coppet et Weimar. 
 Madame Lenormant also edited Les Lettres de Benjamin Constant a 
 Madame Recamier. 
 
 103
 
 MADAME RECAM1ER 
 
 it was just outside the forty leagues* radius, and not very 
 far from the Chateau de Montmirail, the seat of the Due 
 de Doudeauville, who was a great friend of Madame 
 Recamier, and whose son, Sosthenes de La Rochefoucauld, 
 had married Mathieu de Montmorency's daughter, and 
 shared that family's devotion to their " amiable amie." In 
 the second place, the town was governed by a good- 
 natured prefect, who might be inclined to regard the visits 
 of Madame Reeamier's friends with an indulgent eye, in 
 the absence of any special instructions to the contrary. 
 
 Madame Recamier, however, did not see much of the 
 La Rochefoucaulds, as she was fearful lest they should 
 suffer for their kindness to an exile ; but her husband, her 
 father, old Simonard, Junot, Due d' Abrant.es, Madame de 
 Catellan, and several other relatives and friends braved 
 the displeasure of the Government and came from Paris to 
 see her; while her cousin, Madame de Dalmassy, left 
 Switzerland to spend a week at Chalons, and Auguste de 
 Stael brought her news of his mother, whom he repre- 
 sented as inconsolable at the thought of the persecution 
 she had drawn upon her and Mathieu de Montmorency. 
 
 In spite of the kindness of her friends, time hung very 
 heavily upon Madame Reeamier's hands, for there was no 
 society or public entertainments of any kind at Chalons, 
 and the only relief to the monotony of her life was on the 
 occasions when she went to the church, where she had 
 made friends with the organist, to play the organ at high 
 mass. Her love of music, as we have said, was always a 
 great consolation to her. 
 
 After she had been about nine months at Chalons, she 
 received a letter from Madame de Stael urging her to 
 remove to Lyons. " At present," her friend wrote, " I am 
 extremely anxious that you should come to Lyons. If I 
 
 104
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 take my passage in the frigate, 1 I shall be able to have 
 another heart-break in embracing you there. You will be 
 on the road to Italy, and you will have friends who are 
 not to be despised, for they are very good for the nerves. 
 Alas ! generous victim, I have experienced what you 
 suffer; and you can, therefore, trust me in regard to the 
 compensations of such a situation. The prefect of Lyons 
 is a very kind-hearted man, and quite a gentleman. I 
 advise you strongly, therefore, to go to Lyons." 
 
 Madame Recamier decided to follow her friend's advice, 
 and, a few days after the receipt of her letter, left for 
 Lyons, where she was warmly welcomed by her husband's 
 relatives, who were much respected in that city. She 
 found there, also, several old friends, among them the 
 Duchesse de Chevreuse, an exile like herself, her mother- 
 in-law, the old Duchesse de Luynes, and Camille Jordan, 
 whom the coup d'etat of the 18th Brumaire had driven out 
 of public life. 
 
 The poor young Duchesse de Chevreuse had, much 
 against her will, been persuaded by her relatives to accept 
 the post of dame du palais to the Empress Josephine. The 
 duchess, however, who was as proud as she was beautiful, 
 brought with her to the new Court all the disdain and 
 hauteur of the old regime ; and when the Emperor showed 
 himself not insensible to her charms, received his advances 
 with marked coldness. 2 
 
 1 Madame de Stael appears to have had some idea, at this time, of 
 making her way to the coast, and escaping to England in one of the 
 English cruisers. 
 
 2 " Madame de Chevreuse was pretty, although red haired, and very 
 clever, but, having been excessively spoilt by her family, was wilful and 
 fanciful. Her health, even then, was delicate. The Emperor tried by 
 coaxing to console her for having been forced into the Court, and at 
 times he would appear to have succeeded, but at others she would take 
 
 105
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 After the family of the deposed King of Spain was 
 brought to Fontainebleau, Napoleon intimated his desire 
 that the duchess should be transferred to the service of 
 the Spanish queen ; whereupon she haughtily replied that, 
 although she had no objection to being a prisoner, she must 
 absolutely decline to become a gaoler. This answer sent 
 her into exile. When Madame Recamier met her at 
 Lyons, her banishment had already lasted four years, and 
 her health, never very strong, had quite given way, owing, 
 in a great measure, to her constantly fretting over her 
 troubles. She, in fact, died some months later. 
 
 Madame de Chevreuse's mother-in-law, the old Duchesse 
 de Luynes, and Madame Recamier soon became great 
 friends. The duchess was a clever and eccentric old lady, 
 who preferred male to female attire, and had a printing- 
 press of her own at her chateau at Dampierre, where she not 
 only set up type herself, but had the reputation of being a 
 skilful compositor. One day, while at Lyons, she paid a 
 visit to the works of a printer named Ballanche, and, 
 while passing through the compositors' room, suddenly 
 tucked up her dress — she was attired that day, by way of 
 a change, in woman's clothes — placed herself before a 
 case, and, to the intense admiration of all the workmen, 
 set up the type for a whole page, imitating even the 
 movement of the body peculiar to the compositors of that 
 
 no pains to conceal her dislike to her position. She had an attraction 
 for the Emperor, which others would have vainly endeavoured to exert, 
 the charm of combat and of victory, for she would sometimes seem to be 
 amused with the fetes and splendour of the Court, and when she 
 appeared there in full dress and apparently in good spirits, then the 
 Emperor, who enjoyed even the smallest success, would laugh and say, 
 *I have overcome the aversion of Madame de Chevreuse.' But, in 
 reality, I do not think he ever did." — Memoirs of Madame de. Remus at y 
 ii. 85. 
 
 106
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 day, and accomplishing her task with the most astonishing 
 rapidity. 
 
 Simon Ballanche, the son of the above-named printer, 
 was destined to achieve fame both as a philosopher and a 
 poet, and — what he probably valued a great deal more — to 
 become one of Madame Recamier's most intimate friends. 
 Ballanche was an extraordinarily ugly man, owing to a 
 deformity of one side of his face, the result of an accident ; 
 but his fine eyes and pleasant expression compensated, 
 in some degree, for this defect. He was presented to 
 Madame Recamier by Camille Jordan, who was enthusiastic 
 in praise of his recently published Fragments, and was at 
 once completely fascinated by the lovely Parisian. 
 
 The unaffected simplicity and grace of her manner, the 
 charm of her conversation, the kindly interest which this 
 woman, so different from any whom he had hitherto met 
 that she seemed almost like a being from another world, 
 took in his somewhat obscure aspirations, won his heart 
 and made him her slave for ever. Michelet — another 
 printer's son, by the way — tells us that he once put 
 the question off-hand to Ballanche, " Quest que cest la 
 femme ? " The philosopher blushed like a child, hesitated 
 a moment, and then replied, " Cest F initiation" And 
 such assuredly was Madame Recamier to him. She led 
 this shy, retiring, austere thinker into a new world ; she 
 taught him that there were more things in heaven and 
 earth than were dreamed of in his philosophy; she inspired 
 his best efforts, and encouraged him to accomplish work 
 which, otherwise, he would have been too modest even to 
 attempt. 
 
 " Give me leave to cherish for you the feelings of a 
 brother for a sister," he says in one of his letters. " I look 
 forward to the moment when I shall be able to lay at your 
 
 107
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 feet, along with this brotherly affection, the little all that 
 is in my power to accomplish. My devotion to you is 
 sincere and whole-hearted." And such it undoubtedly 
 was for the rest of his life. He spent as much of his 
 spare time in her company as she would allow him, and 
 looked forward to the hour or two when he was admitted 
 to the presence of his enchantress to console him for the 
 literary solitude in which the remainder of his day was 
 passed. When she travelled, he was always ready to 
 accompany her did she need an escort, and when he could 
 not be with her, it was seldom that a courier arrived without 
 bringing her a letter from this, perhaps, the most devoted 
 and unselfish of all her friends. To be with her was to be 
 in heaven ; without her life would have been a burden too 
 grievous to be borne. " You know well," he says in 
 another of his letters, written at a time when her health 
 was causing her friends much uneasiness, " that if you were 
 to die, it would be necessary to lose no time in digging a 
 grave for me, as I should soon follow you." This was 
 not mere Gallic exuberance of expression ; it was the 
 sober truth. There was no false sentiment about Simon 
 Ballanche. 
 
 And Madame Recamier, it is pleasant to relate, with 
 that delicacy and tact so peculiarly her own, having once 
 ascertained his real worth, and the depth and purity of his 
 affection for herself, admitted him to her friendship on a 
 footing of perfect equality with the most distinguished 
 of her associates, such as the Montmorencies and the 
 La Rochefoucaulds. 
 
 The printer-poet, although he had no flow of small 
 talk, was far from being an uninteresting companion, but 
 his manners were somewhat homely, and he was profoundly 
 ignorant of the usages of polite society. The day after 
 
 108
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 he had been presented to Madame Recamier he called 
 upon her, and found himself alone with his charming 
 hostess. Unfortunately, Ballanche's boots had that 
 morning been cleaned with a preparation which imparted 
 to them as disagreeable an odour as those of Sir Roger 
 Williams, to whom Queen Elizabeth, on the occasion of 
 his presenting an unfavoured petition, is said to have 
 observed, with more candour than courtesy, " Faugh ! 
 Williams, I prithee begone, thy boots stink," and to have 
 been met with the witty retort, " Tut ! Tut ! madame, 
 'tis my suit that stinketh." Madame Recamier had the 
 advantage of better breeding than good Queen Bess, but 
 the noxious odour was too much even for her sense of 
 politeness, and, at length, she timidly confessed to her 
 visitor that the smell of his shoes made her ill. 
 
 Ballanche was not in the least offended at her admission, 
 but at once rose, apologised profusely, and left the room. 
 In a minute or two he returned without his shoes, and, 
 quite unconscious that he was committing any solecism, 
 resumed his seat, and continued the conversation. Just 
 at that moment several other visitors were announced, 
 and Ballanche was, of course, under the necessity of 
 explaining to them his unusual and somewhat suspicious 
 appearance. 
 
 The hope of seeing Madame de Stael had been the 
 principal reason which had induced Madame Recamier to 
 come to Lyons. She appears to have had some idea of 
 sharing her friend's flight to Sweden, and wrote offering 
 to join her at Coppet. Madame de Stael, however, had 
 reasons of her own for not desiring the company of even 
 Madame Recamier at this juncture. She had lately con- 
 tracted a rather undignified second marriage with a young 
 Swiss officer named Rocca, invalided home from the 
 
 109
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 Spanish war, whose helpless condition had aroused first 
 her sympathy, and afterwards that feeling which is sup- 
 posed to be akin to it. The only reply Madame Recamier 
 received was a brief note, announcing that Madame 
 de Stael had made her escape from French territory. 
 
 " I bid you adieu, my guardian angel," she writes, 
 " with all the warmth of my heart. I commit Auguste 
 to your care. I trust that he will see you, and that I 
 shall see him again. It is on you that I rely to console 
 him, and to bring about our reunion when such an event 
 becomes possible. You are an angelic creature. If I 
 could live near you, I should be only too happy. Fate 
 drags me away. Adieu! " 
 
 Although Madame Recamier saw a good deal of 
 society, such as it was, at Lyons, and visited and received 
 without any interference from the authorities, the lot of 
 an exile under Napoleon's tyrannical rule was bound to 
 be a humiliating one, and, when in the company of her 
 friends, she was never quite free from the fear that those 
 who were showing her kindness might at any moment be 
 made to suffer for their generosity. The more timid and 
 selfish of her neighbours, too, studiously avoided her ; 
 and this could not fail to be extremely galling to a woman 
 hitherto so admired and sought after. One such case she 
 was fond of relating as an illustration [of the petty 
 despotism of those days. 
 
 Shortly after she came to Lyons a certain gentleman, 
 with social aspirations, who had been an occasional visitor 
 at her house in Paris, hearing of her arrival, and ignorant 
 of the reason which had brought her thither, hastened to 
 the Hotel de l'Europe, where she was staying, eager to 
 pay his respects to so celebrated a leader of society. He 
 
 found her in the company of her sister-in-law Madame 
 
 no
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 Delphin, and Eugene d'Harcourt (afterwards the Due 
 d'Harcourt), who had come to Lyons on purpose to see 
 her ; and, after paying her many extravagant compliments, 
 informed her that he was about to give a fete-champetre 
 at his country house, a few miles from Lyons, and 
 entreated her to grace it with her presence. 
 
 Madame Recamier, who since her husband's failure 
 had avoided large assemblies, declined, pleading a prior 
 engagement with Madame Delphin and Eugene d'Har- 
 court. Her visitor, however, would take no refusal, and 
 she did not get rid of him until he had extracted a 
 promise from the whole party to attend his f£te. 
 
 On the appointed day Madame Recamier and her 
 friends hired a carriage, and drove out to the fete. When 
 they entered the grounds, they found their host seated on 
 the balustrade of a ring-game of which he was counting 
 the strokes. Instead of rising to receive his guests, he 
 merely nodded to them in a patronising kind of way, 
 and again turned his attention to the game. Astonished 
 beyond measure at such an extraordinary reception from 
 a person who, a few days before, had been so extremely 
 anxious for their company, they forthwith ordered their 
 carriage and returned to Lyons. 
 
 Not long afterwards Madame Recamier again met her 
 late host at a dinner-party, at which he happened to be 
 placed next to her. He hastened to apologise for his 
 behaviour at the fete, remarking quite frankly, " What 
 could I do ? I had learned that you were an exile. I do 
 trust you are not offended." 
 
 Madame Recamier was so amused at this unconscious 
 meanness that she answered, laughing : 
 
 " Monsieur, it is impossible to be offended with such a 
 person as you are." 
 
 in
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 This the good man took as a compliment, and declared 
 that she was the most amiable woman he had ever met. 
 
 The frequent stopping of travellers at Lyons furnished 
 some distraction for Madame Recamier. It was to this 
 that she owed a visit from Madame Junot, now Duchesse 
 d'Abrantes, who was on her way from Aix to Paris. The 
 duchess and Madame Recamier had not met since Jacques 
 Recamier's failure, and the former was much touched at 
 finding her friend, whom she had last seen in her 
 magnificent hotel in the Rue du Mont Blanc, surrounded 
 by every conceivable luxury, occupying a single apartment 
 at an inn, but still as beautiful, as graceful, and as charming 
 as ever. 
 
 " Madame Recamier," she says, " had in her apartment 
 a pianoforte, drawing materials, work-frames, books, &c. 
 These alternately occupied her time, but could not entirely 
 exclude melancholy recollections. Madame Doumerc ran 
 her fingers over the keys of the pianoforte, and produced 
 those sweet sounds which she knew so well how to draw 
 from the instrument. 
 
 " ' Ah ! ' exclaimed Madame Recamier, ' revive some of 
 the recollections I share in common with you both. Sing 
 me a song, but let it be French not Italian.' 
 
 " Madame Doumerc requested me to accompany her 
 in one of Bo'ieldieu's romances, the words of which were 
 written by M. de Longchamp when he was banished to 
 America by the Directory. They are expressive of the 
 deepest melancholy, and I could perceive they drew tears 
 from the eyes of the fair exile." l 
 
 That winter the celebrated actor Talma came to Lyons 
 to fulfil an engagement at the Grand Theatre. He had 
 been on friendly terms with Madame Recamier in Paris 
 
 1 Memoirs tfthe Duchesse d'Abrantes, iv. 243. 
 
 112
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 and she invited him to dine with her. The Abbe de 
 Boulogne, Bishop of Troyes, one of the most famous 
 preachers of the day, was also of the party. The bishop 
 had never been to a play in his life, but he was well 
 acquainted with dramatic literature, and was delighted at 
 meeting the celebrated tragedian. 
 
 After dinner he asked Talma to recite something, which 
 the actor did, choosing, out of respect to the good bishop, 
 one of his roles in which religious sentiment was expressed. 
 The abbe was delighted, and when Talma, in return, 
 begged for an extract from one of his sermons, willingly 
 consented. Talma listened with great interest to the 
 preacher, praised his delivery, made some remarks upon 
 his gestures, and added, " It is very good down to here, 
 monseigneur (pointing to the bishop's chest), but the lower 
 part of the body goes for nothing. One can easily see 
 that you have never given a thought to your legs." 
 
 Towards the end of January 1 8 13 Mathieu de Mont- 
 morency came to Lyons, and, noticing that his friend 
 seemed far from well, advised her to spend the remainder 
 of the winter in Italy. Madame Recamier had long 
 wished to visit the enchanted land of Dante and Petrarch, 
 of Raphael and Michael Angelo ; and, now that Madame 
 de Stael was beyond her reach, there was nothing to keep 
 her at Lyons. She therefore started for Italy early in 
 February, with her little niece and maid. Montmorency 
 accompanied her as far as Chambery ; and, after he had 
 left her, she divided her time between the scenery and a 
 little travelling library, the books composing which had 
 been selected for her by Simon Ballanche. One of these 
 books, it is interesting to note, was Le Genie du 
 Christianisme, the brilliant author of which was to become 
 in later years the most cherished of all her friends. 
 
 113 11
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 Madame Recamier's impressions of Turin — She arrives in 
 Rome — State of the city during the French occupation — Tiie 
 Torlonias — Canova, the sculptor, and his brother — Madame 
 Re"camier's friendship with them — Visit of Ballanche to Rome 
 — Madame Recamier goes to Albano — The condemned fisher- 
 man — Madame Recamier's efforts to save him — Madame 
 Recamier sets out for Naples — The post-horses at Velletri — 
 Meeting with Fouche — Arrival in Naples — Cordial reception 
 by the King and Oueen — Character of Caroline and of 
 Joachim Murat — Murat joins the coalition against Napoleon 
 — A painful scene at the palace — " Then I am a traitor ! " — 
 Madame Recamier intercedes for a criminal — She returns to 
 Rome — The Beatrice of Canova — The Allies enter France — 
 Madame Recamier again visits Naples — M. Mazois and the 
 brigands — Entry of Pius VII. into Rome — Extraordinary 
 enthusiasm of the people — Madame Recamier returns to Paris 
 
 Madame Recamier's first stop was made at Turin, where 
 Prince Borghese, Pauline Bonaparte's second husband, 
 who had in 1808 been appointed by Napoleon Governor- 
 General of Piedmont, Genoa, and Parma, had fixed his 
 Court. From Turin she writes to Camille Jordan. 
 
 Madame Recamier to Camille Jordan. 
 
 "Turin, March 26, 18 13. 
 
 " It is impossible, dear Camille, to write a more charm- 
 ing letter than the one I have received from you. You 
 
 114
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 cannot imagine the feeling of sadness which came over me 
 on reaching the summit of Mont Cenis, and beginning 
 the descent of the opposite slope. It seemed to place an 
 eternal barrier between myself and those I love ; and I 
 was so miserable when I reached Turin that I thought I 
 was going to be ill. I began to recover my spirits two 
 days ago, to make plans for the future, and to escape for 
 a little while from that gloomy train of thought, which I 
 have determined to avoid as much as possible. 
 
 " I am also beginning to take some interest in my sur- 
 roundings, and to receive a few visitors. Italian influences 
 commence to make themselves felt here, not on the climate, 
 but on people's morals. The married ladies have cicisbeos 
 to keep them company, and abbes for their major-domos. 
 Prince Borghese, whom every one speaks of as " the " 
 Prince, has, they say, the most pompous little Court in 
 Europe. The scandals, the toilets, the intrigues of this 
 little Court appear to engross all people's thoughts, and to 
 be the sole topic of their conversation. Our friend, the 
 Comte Alfieri, is a wonderful success as Master of the 
 Ceremonies. The old Piedmontese nobility and the French 
 officials are always meeting at Court, and there is no 
 longer much love lost between them. The conceit of 
 these nobles and officials reminds one of the great world of 
 Paris, but they are much more ridiculous, inasmuch as 
 they move in a much smaller sphere, and are not allied to 
 any political party. I do not believe there is any country 
 in the world where people attach more importance to out- 
 ward display. Their houses are palaces, and they cling 
 to the old custom of keeping an immense number of 
 servants. But when you pay them an informal visit, 
 you are considerably astonished, after traversing ante- 
 chambers, reception-rooms, and galleries, to find the 
 
 "5
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 mistress of the house in a little back room lighted by a 
 single candle. 
 
 " ' The ' Prince leads a most secluded life, except when 
 he has to attend official gatherings. He spends all his 
 time shut up in a suite of rooms on the ground floor of 
 his palace. He has lived this retired life for two years. 
 They say that all that time the Venetian blinds of the 
 lower room of his suite have always remained closed. A 
 single man-servant enters this lower room each morning, 
 and it is provided with fresh flowers every day, 
 and . . ." 
 
 [The rest of this letter is missing."] 
 
 On leaving Turin, Madame Recamier visited Parma, 
 Modena, Bologna, and Florence, and arrived in Rome at 
 the beginning of Holy Week. She engaged rooms, at 
 first, on the Piazza d'Espagna, but, a little later on, 
 removed to a suite on the first floor of the Fiano Palace, 
 on the Corso, where her salon soon became a centre of 
 attraction to the few foreigners then in Rome. 
 
 Rome was at this time bereft of its Pontiff", who was a 
 prisoner at Fontainebleau, in the palace of Francis I. ; 
 and the capital of the Christian world was only the chief 
 town of the Department of the Tiber. Sympathy for the 
 unfortunate Pius VII. was universal among the Romans, 
 and all classes were united in hatred of the French rule. 
 Many of the aristocracy and clergy had left Rome ; the 
 disturbed state of Europe kept foreigners away, and a 
 mournful spirit seemed to hover over the whole city. 
 
 Madame Rexamier had letters of credit and introduc- 
 tion to the principal banker Torlonia, " a banker in the 
 morning and Duke de Bracciano at night," an extraordi- 
 nary character, who in business was as avaricious as a Jew 
 
 116
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 usurer, and in private life as sumptuous as the most mag- 
 nificent grand-seigneur. He lived in a splendid palace on 
 the Corso, filled with almost priceless works of art, where 
 he dispensed lavish hospitality, and boasted, at the same 
 time, of his mean acts, the contemplation of which seemed 
 to afford him as much pleasure as that of his pictures and 
 curios. Here Madame Recamier visited him, and was 
 most cordially received by the banker and his wife, who, 
 in her way, was almost as singular a personage as her 
 husband. 
 
 " The duchess," says Madame Lenormant, " had been 
 very lovely, and, though no longer young in 1813, was 
 still handsome. She was good-natured, and, like the 
 Italian women of that day, a strange compound of infi- 
 delity and devotion. In a confidential moment, she related 
 what care she had taken to prevent her husband's peace of 
 mind being disturbed by her conduct, and added, ' Oh ! 
 he will be very much astonished at the Day of Judg- 
 ment. L 
 
 The Torlonias were extremely kind to Madame Reca- 
 mier, and through them she became acquainted with 
 several of the leading families among the Roman aris- 
 tocracy. 
 
 One of the first visits which Madame Recamier paid in 
 Rome was to the studio of the famous sculptor Canova. 
 She had no special introduction to him ; but all strangers 
 were admitted to his atelier. The sculptor himself worked 
 in an inner room, secure from all interruption. Madame 
 Recamier, however, was so charmed with the specimens of 
 Canova's skill which she saw around her that she wished 
 to see the workman also, and, accordingly, sent in her 
 name. Canova immediately came out, holding his paper 
 
 1 Souvenir s y i. 220. 
 117
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 cap in his hand, and, bowing gracefully, invited her into 
 his own studio, where she found his half-brother the Abb6 
 Canova, who acted as secretary and reader to the sculptor, 
 and was so devoted to him that he followed him about 
 like his shadow. 
 
 Canova, who was a passionate admirer of beauty, 
 returned Madame Recamier's visit the same evening ; 
 and the acquaintance thus formed soon ripened into a 
 warm friendship, and it was seldom that the sculptor failed 
 to pass part of his evening with the beautiful French- 
 woman. 
 
 He lived on a second floor on the Corso, in large rooms, 
 comfortably rather than luxuriously furnished, and full of 
 line engravings. He was extremely simple in his tastes, 
 and went but little into society. Generous to the verge of 
 prodigality, he spent the greater portion of his princely 
 income in assisting struggling fellow artists and men of 
 letters, and was, in consequence, universally beloved. His 
 half-brother, the abbe, who had considerable literary 
 attainments, shared his admiration for Madame Recamier, 
 and, every day during her stay in Rome, composed a 
 sonnet, which he dedicated to " la bellissima Zulietta" 
 
 In the early part of July, Madame Recamier received a 
 flying visit from Ballanche. His father was unable to 
 spare him for more than a few days, so, in order to lose 
 as little as possible of his brief holiday, he travelled from 
 Lyons without stopping day or night. On the day of his 
 arrival, the evening being beautifully fine, Madame Reca- 
 mier suggested a drive to show him St. Peter's and the 
 Coliseum by moonlight. Canova, who took the most 
 minute care of his health, was one of the party, and 
 appeared enveloped in a thick cloak to protect himself 
 from the balmy evening breeze. But Ballanche came 
 
 118
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 without his hat, and, on being asked where it was, replied 
 unconcernedly that he fancied it was at Alexandria. He 
 had, in fact, left it there, and had never even thought of 
 replacing it, so little attention did he pay to the ordinary 
 details of life. 
 
 When August came, and Rome was becoming deserted 
 owing to the heat and the malaria, Canova placed part of 
 his locanda at Albano at Madame Recamier' s disposal, an 
 offer which she gladly accepted. Her rooms overlooked 
 the Campagna, and commanded a magnificent view of the 
 vast undulating plain and the distant sea. In this lovely 
 spot the ex-leader of fashion was quite happy with no 
 other company than that of her little niece, though Canova 
 and his brother came out from time to time for a breath 
 of country air, generally remaining three or four days. 
 
 It was while she was at Albano that an incident occurred 
 which affords a striking illustration of that goodness of 
 heart which endeared Madame Recamier to all with whom 
 she came in contact. 
 
 One Sunday evening she was returning from church 
 when she saw an excited crowd of peasants grouped round 
 the low doorway of a cottage ; and, in reply to her 
 questions, she was told that a fisherman of the coast, 
 accused of giving information to the English, had just 
 been confined in the cottage, which served the purpose of 
 a prison, and was to be shot at daybreak. At that 
 moment the prisoner's confessor, the priest of Albano, 
 came out of the cottage, and catching sight of Madame 
 Recamier, whose alms had several times passed through 
 his hands, hastened towards her, hoping that she might 
 possibly have some influence with the French authorities. 
 
 Madame Recamier accompanied the priest into the 
 prison, where she found the condemned fisherman, a young
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 and handsome man, heavily manacled and almost beside 
 himself with fear. His eyes seemed to be starting out 
 of his head, his teeth chattered, the sweat rolled in great 
 beads off* his forehead, and his whole appearance indicated 
 the most intense agony. 
 
 On seeing the terrible distress of the unhappy man, 
 Madame Recamier was deeply touched, and promised the 
 priest to do everything in her power to obtain a commu- 
 tation of his sentence. The priest then explained to the 
 prisoner that the lady was French, that she was kind and 
 generous, that she was full of compassion for him, and 
 would intercede for his pardon. 
 
 At the word " pardon," the condemned man became a 
 little calmer : " Pieta ! Pieta ! " he cried. His confessor 
 made him promise to compose himself, to pray to God, 
 and take a little food, while his protectress went to Rome 
 to make intercession for him. 
 
 As the execution was fixed for the following morning, 
 there was plainly not a moment to be lost. Madame 
 Recamier forthwith hurried home, ordered post-horses, and 
 set out for Rome. At that time the Campagna between 
 Albano and Rome was infested by brigands, and travelling 
 by night far from safe ; but she was not molested, 
 and reached the city in safety. She drove at once to 
 General de Miollis, the commander-in-chief of the French 
 troops, but, though he received her very courteously, he 
 professed himself unable to help her. The power of 
 pardon, he said, rested entirely with M. de Norvins, the 
 prefect. To his house, accordingly, she went, but he was 
 hot at home, and all attempts to find him were unsuc- 
 cessful. She, therefore, left a message begging him to 
 come to her rooms at the Fiano Palace as soon as he 
 returned, and drove thither to await him. 
 
 1 20
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 It was very late before the prefect arrived, and she saw 
 at once by his manner that her errand would be a fruitless 
 one. His only reply to her passionate entreaties was to 
 advise her not to forget her own position, and to remind 
 her that it ill became an exile to endeavour to save the 
 Emperor's enemies from punishment. She returned to 
 Albano the following morning, feeling terribly depressed 
 by the failure of her mission of mercy, and haunted by the 
 face of the unfortunate fisherman, whom she had seen a 
 prey to all the terrors of death. 
 
 When she arrived the tragedy was over. The priest of 
 Albano called upon her in the course of the day to bring 
 her the victim's blessing. Up to the very last moment, it 
 appeared, he had refused to abandon hope, turning his 
 bandaged eyes towards Rome, as if expecting to hear the 
 sweet voice of the Signora Francese returning with his 
 pardon. 
 
 In October Madame Recamier returned to Rome, where 
 the check which Napoleon's ambitious schemes had re- 
 ceived and the continuous reverses of the French armies 
 formed the one topic of conversation, and kept every one 
 in a state of constant excitement. A victim of Napoleon's 
 tyranny, Madame Recamier had every reason to desire his 
 overthrow, which would leave her and her friends free to 
 return to their beloved Paris. But personal considerations 
 did not cause her to forget that she was a Frenchwoman ; 
 and she would never permit a single word derogatory to 
 the national honour to be uttered in her presence. 
 
 The autumn brought a few visitors to Rome, including 
 M. de Chateau vieux, whom she had met at Coppet; the 
 Prince de Rohan-Chabot, the Emperor's chamberlain, one 
 of the few great noblemen who, from prudential reasons, 
 had joined the Imperial household ; and Sir John Coghill, 
 
 121
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 the antiquary, who was travelling in Italy in quest of 
 Etruscan vases and ancient inscriptions. The two latter 
 were on their way to Naples, and urged Madame Reca- 
 mier to complete her Italian tour by a visit to that city. 
 She demurred at first, being a little doubtful as to the 
 reception which she, as an exile, might expect from the 
 king and queen, her old friends Joachim and Caroline 
 Murat ; but, on being reassured on this point by M. de 
 Rohan, she left for Naples in December, in company with 
 Coghill and his family. 
 
 At Velletri, their first halting-place, they found to their 
 surprise the horses for both their carriages already har- 
 nessed and awaiting them. Coghill, who occupied the 
 foremost carriage, with true British imperiousness, forth- 
 with secured them, without troubling himself to inquire 
 for whom they were intended. The same thing occurred 
 at every successive stage, and at length they discovered, 
 from some remarks that the postilions let fall, that a 
 courier had preceded them, and ordered the horses to be in 
 readiness for some great unknown personage who was 
 expected. 
 
 In this manner they reached Terracina, where they 
 intended to pass the night, but had not been there long 
 when two carriages drove up, and a loud and angry voice 
 exclaimed, " Where are those insolent people who have 
 robbed me of my post-horses along the whole route ? " 
 
 On hearing this voice, which sounded strangely familiar, 
 Madame Recamier put her head out of the window, and 
 beheld her old enemy Fouche stamping up and down the 
 courtyard in a white heat of indignation. 
 
 " Here they are," she answered, laughing heartily. " It 
 is I, Monsieur le Due." 
 
 On recognising Madame Recamier the old Minister of 
 
 122
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 Police drew back, a little ashamed of his anger, but the 
 lady, without appearing to notice his embarrassment, in- 
 vited him into her room. Fouche was hurrying to Naples 
 on a mission to Murat, the object of which was to main- 
 tain that vacillating sovereign in his allegiance to Napoleon; 
 for the earth was beginning to tremble under the feet of 
 the conqueror, and the kings whom he himself had created 
 were beginning to show unmistakable signs of restiveness. 
 Murat himself was being warmly pressed by both England 
 and Austria to join the coalition against Napoleon ; and 
 it was only some honourable scruples that had hitherto 
 kept him from doing so. It was of the utmost importance 
 to the Emperor not to lose such an ally, and his envoy had 
 good reason for his haste. 
 
 Fouche asked Madame Recamier rather sharply what 
 she wanted in Naples, and proceeded to warn her against 
 meddling in politics. 
 
 " Yes, madame," said he, " remember that when we are 
 weak, we ought to be amiable." 
 
 " And when we are strong, we ought to be just," she 
 retorted. 
 
 Fouche continued his journey, and Madame Recamier 
 arrived safely in Naples the following day. 
 
 Scarcely was she installed in the rooms on the Chiaja, 
 which had been taken for her by Rohan, when a page 
 came from the queen, bearing a basket of magnificent 
 fruit and flowers, and a message from both sovereigns 
 inquiring after her health, and expressing their desire to 
 see her as soon as she was sufficiently rested. The follow- 
 ing morning, accordingly, she presented herself at the 
 palace, and was most cordially welcomed by the king and 
 queen. Both Caroline and her husband vied with one 
 another in showing her kindness. There was always a 
 
 123
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 welcome for her at Court, where the queen insisted on 
 giving her precedence over all the other ladies, much to 
 the disgust of the latter ; a box at the Opera was placed at 
 her disposal, and a special party to Pompeii was organised 
 for the purpose of displaying its antiquities to the fair 
 visitor. 
 
 Caroline Murat, though not so handsome as her sister 
 Pauline, perhaps next to Madame Recamier the greatest 
 beauty in France, was a very lovely woman with dazzlingly 
 white skin and beautiful fair hair, and united to her 
 personal attractions administrative capabilities of no mean 
 order. Her government of Naples, when entrusted with 
 the regency during her husband's absence at the seat of 
 war, was distinguished by a prudence and energy which 
 caused Talleyrand to remark that " she had the head of a 
 Cromwell on the shoulders of a pretty woman." l Her 
 husband, on the other hand, although as brave a soldier as 
 ever drew a sword, was absolutely destitute both of political 
 ability and of moral courage. " You are a good soldier 
 on the field of battle, but, beyond that, you have no 
 energy,'* wrote Napoleon to him on one occasion. He 
 seems, indeed, to have been entirely under the domination 
 of his clever and ambitious consort, and, when deprived 
 of her counsels, to have been like a ship without a rudder. 
 
 At the time of Madame Recamier's arrival in Naples, 
 Murat had finally decided to throw in his lot with England 
 and Austria against his old master and brother-in-law. 
 
 1 " The Queen of Naples was a woman of considerable shrewdness, 
 energy of character, and talent. I use this expression in reference to 
 political life only. That excepted, she was as ignorant as a woman can 
 well be, or, I ought rather to say, as women were a hundred years ago. 
 Though wanting in the most ordinary education, yet, if a grave political 
 question came under discussion, she would speak like a well-informed 
 statesman." — Memoirs of the Duchess of A brant is, iv. 354. 
 
 1*4
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 The interests of his dynasty, indeed, imperatively demanded 
 such a step, for it was the only course by which he could 
 avoid being involved in the downfall of Napoleon, now 
 plainly inevitable. The Neapolitans themselves desired 
 peace at any price, and loudly demanded separation from 
 France. Murat was extremely popular with his subjects, 
 especially with the fishermen and the lazzaroni of the 
 Carmine, but their affection was alienated by the fear of 
 war and the English invasion. Large crowds began to 
 assemble in front of the palace, clamouring for peace, and 
 accompanying their demands with threatening gestures. 
 The queen, too, who was not inclined to allow any 
 sentiment of gratitude or honour to stand between her 
 and her ambition, ably seconded the people's wishes, and 
 used all her influence to induce her husband to betray their 
 common benefactor, with the result that, on January n, 
 poor Murat, consoling himself with the reflection that his 
 first duty was to his own subjects, signed the treaty which 
 bound him to the coalition. 
 
 On the day on which the treaty was to be made public, 
 Madame Recamier was alone with the queen in her apart- 
 ments when the king entered in a great state of agitation. 
 He was deadly pale, his hair was in disorder, his eyes 
 rolled wildly, and, to all appearance, he was under the 
 influence of some overpowering excitement. Rushing up 
 to Madame Recamier, he seized her by both her hands, and, 
 hoping against hope that she would approve the decision he 
 had already made, he began, as coherently as he could, to 
 explain the situation in which he was placed, and concluded 
 by asking her what course she would advise to adopt. 
 
 " Sire," she answered, " you are a Frenchman. To 
 France you must be true." 
 
 " Then I am a traitor ! " cried the unhappy man, and 
 
 125
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 opening a window of the palace which overlooked the 
 sea, he pointed to the English fleet sailing majestically 
 into the Bay of Naples, and then, covering his face with 
 his hands, burst into tears. 
 
 Murat seemed perfectly bewildered with despair and 
 grief. The queen, much firmer, though not less moved, 
 ran towards him, exclaiming : 
 
 " In the name of Heaven, Joachim, be silent, or, at least, 
 speak lower ! In the next room there are a hundred ears 
 ready to catch every word you utter. Be silent 1 Have 
 you lost all self-control ? " Then, finding that her words 
 produced no effect upon her husband, she went to a table, 
 filled a glass from a carafe of orange-flower water, poured 
 some drops of ether into it, and brought it to the dis- 
 tracted monarch. 
 
 " Drink this and compose yourself," said she. " The 
 crisis has now arrived. Murat, remember what you are. 
 You are King of Naples. Do not lose sight of the duty 
 you owe to your subjects and your family." 
 
 After a time Murat, who perhaps had some premonition 
 of the terrible fate which awaited him, grew calmer, and 
 left the room to make some alteration in his dress. No 
 sooner had the door closed behind him, than the queen 
 threw herself into Madame R6camier's arms, and, with 
 tears in her eyes, exclaimed : 
 
 " You see, I am obliged to have courage for him as well 
 as for myself. At a time, too, when my courage is 
 scarcely sustained by my affection for my children — when 
 I am hourly distracted by thinking of my brother, who 
 believes me to be guilty of treason towards him. Oh, 
 pity me ! I have need of pity, and I deserve it. If you 
 could search my heart, you would understand what torture 
 I am doomed to bear." 
 
 126
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 Madame Recamier returned to her hotel much moved 
 by the painful scene which she had just witnessed. 
 Suddenly her attention was attracted by a great com- 
 motion in the street. She ran to the window, and saw 
 Murat on horseback in the midst of an immense crowd. 
 The intelligence of the treaty of alliance, confirmed by 
 the presence of the English ships in the harbour, had 
 spread, and the populace, whose attitude had recently been 
 so threatening, were now cheering the king. Later in the 
 day the king and queen ordered their carriage, and drove 
 round the town, where they were everywhere received 
 with enthusiasm ; and at night appeared at the theatre 
 in company with the Austrian Envoy Extraordinary, 
 the negotiator of the treaty, and the English admiral. 
 Two days later Murat quitted Naples to take command 
 of the Neapolitan army, leaving his wife to act as 
 regent. 
 
 One morning, soon after the king's departure, Madame 
 Recamier, coming to the palace in response to an invitation 
 from the queen, was ushered into the royal bedchamber, 
 where Queen Caroline, who was rather unwell, was still 
 in bed. The queen's bedchamber, which commanded a 
 view of the bay, was, like all her other apartments, fitted 
 up most luxuriously. It was hung with white satin, which 
 harmonised with the dazzling complexion of its mistress, 
 while the bed curtains were of richly worked tulle, lined 
 with pink satin. Queen Caroline frequently received 
 visitors while in bed, as she had been in the habit of doing 
 in Paris, and at the moment when Madame Recamier 
 entered, the Minister of Justice was standing by her side, 
 handing her some papers relating to his department which 
 required her signature. As she was about to sign one of 
 these documents, she paused and said, " You would be 
 
 127
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 very unhappy, dear Madame Recamier, were you in my 
 place, for I am about to sign a death warrant." 
 
 " Oh, madame ! " cried her visitor, rising, <{ you will 
 not sign it. Since Heaven has brought me into your 
 presence at this time, it wishes to save this unfortunate 
 man." 
 
 The queen smiled, and, turning to the Minister, said : 
 " Madame Recamier does not wish this wretched man to 
 die. Can we pardon him ? " After some discussion, the 
 party of clemency carried the day, and the pardon was 
 granted. 
 
 Madame Recamier was fond of recalling this incident as 
 one of the happiest moments of her life, and regarded it 
 as some compensation for her unsuccessful efforts on 
 behalf of the poor fisherman of Albano. 
 
 Madame Recamier returned to Rome in time for the 
 ceremonies of Holy Week. The Canovas were, of 
 course, overjoyed at seeing her again, and made her 
 promise to come to the studio to see the works executed 
 during her absence. She went, but was somewhat 
 surprised to find little or nothing new until she came into 
 the private studio, when the sculptor, about whom there 
 was an air of mystery, drew aside a curtain, and displayed 
 two clay busts of Madame Recamier, one with no 
 ornament but the hair, the other with the addition of a 
 veil. 
 
 " See if I have not thought of you!" exclaimed Canova, 
 with the air of an artist who believes in his success. 
 
 The busts had, of course, been executed from memory, 
 and, as one of the lady's friends observes, " the sculptor 
 had not attempted to copy Madame Recamier's features 
 so much as to embody the lineaments of her soul." 1 
 
 1 Eraser's Magazine, July 1849. 
 128
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 Unfortunately, Madame Recamier did not consider the 
 busts faithful likenesses, and said as much. The sculptor 
 was deeply wounded. He dropped the curtain, and never 
 referred to them again. It is not known what became of 
 the plain bust, but Canova added a crown of olives to the 
 one with the veil, and when, some time afterwards, 
 Madame Recamier asked him what he had done with it, 
 he replied, " It did not please you, so I have made a 
 Beatrice of it." Such was the origin of the Beatrice of 
 Dante, one of the most exquisite works of this famous 
 sculptor. After Canova's death his brother, the Abbe 
 Canova, sent a copy of it to Madame Recamier, with the 
 following lines : 
 
 " Sovra candido vel, cinta d'oliva, 
 Donna m'apparve. . . , x 
 
 Dante. 
 
 " Ritratto di Giulietta Rkamier, modellato di memoria, 
 da Canova, nel 1813, e poi consecrato in marmo col nome di 
 Beatrice." 
 
 Meanwhile France was invaded, and Napoleon's position 
 was daily becoming more critical. Caroline Murat, half 
 regretting her own and her husband's treachery, and 
 apprehensive that perhaps after all it might fail to save 
 their throne, wrote to Madame Recamier, begging her to 
 come and comfort her. She went, and, while at Naples, 
 learned that Napoleon had abdicated, and had been sent to 
 play at being king on the little island of Elba. 
 
 There was now, of course, no obstacle in the way of 
 Madame Recamier's return to Paris, although her sentence 
 of exile had not yet been formally revoked ; and, 
 
 1 " Under a white veil, crowned with an olive wreath, a woman 
 appeared to me." 
 
 129 !
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 accordingly, she took an affectionate farewell of her royal 
 friend, and left Naples for Rome en route for France. Just 
 as she was on the point of starting, however, intelligence 
 was brought that a band of brigands was committing 
 depredations in the neighbourhood ; whereupon Queen 
 Caroline insisted that M. Mazois, one of the officers of 
 her household, should escort her guest. The journey to 
 Rome was accomplished without hindrance, but on his 
 way back to Naples, M. Mazois and his servants were less 
 fortunate. They were attacked and overpowered by the 
 banditti, who were in much greater force than had been 
 supposed, and robbed of everything, even their clothes. 
 
 Before Madame Recamier finally quitted the Eternal 
 City, she had the privilege of beholding such a spectacle 
 as is seen only once in a lifetime — the return of Pius VII. 
 to his capital. She witnessed the pageant from the top of 
 some raised seats that had been erected beneath the porticos 
 of the two churches which form the entrance to the Corso, 
 opposite the Porto del Popolo. The enthusiasm of the 
 whole city was indescribable. All the great Roman nobles 
 and young men of rank went out to meet the Pope at 
 Storta, the last stage from Rome, where the horses were 
 taken out of the Pontiff's carriage, which was then drawn 
 to the city and through the streets to St. Peter's, amid 
 the acclamations of the people. The august old man 
 who was the object of all this passionate loyalty was on 
 his knees, his whole bearing suggestive of the deepest 
 humility : and when at length St. Peter's was reached, 
 and the liberated Pontiff knelt before the altar, while the 
 Te Deum resounded through the vaulted arches, there was 
 hardly a dry eye in the whole vast assembly. 
 
 On her way to Paris Madame Recamier stopped for a 
 few days at Lyons, where Ballanche and Camille Jordan 
 
 i jo
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 had been impatiently awaiting her arrival ; and attended 
 a grand fe'te, which was given in honour of the restoration 
 of the Bourbons. At Lyons she received a note from 
 Madame de Stael, who had hastened back to Paris as soon 
 as she was assured of the fall of her old enemy. " I am 
 ashamed," she wrote, " to be in Paris without you, dear 
 angel of my life. After so many trials, the sweetest 
 prospect that lies before me is that of seeing you, for my 
 heart is always devoted to you." 
 
 Madame Recamier arrived in Paris on June I, after 
 an absence of nearly three years. 
 
 M*
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 Society at the Restoration — Old familiar faces — Madame de 
 Stael — Mathieu de Montmorency — Madame Moreau — Fate 
 of Victor Moreau — Honours bestowed upon his widow — 
 The Duke of Wellington the hero of the day — Madame 
 Recamier's account of her acquaintance with him — His 
 admiration for her — His " unmeaning notes " — " Je Pai bien 
 battu " — Benjamin Constant — Influence of women over him 
 — Madame Recamier invokes his assistance on behalf of the 
 Murats — He falls madly in love with her — His extraordinary 
 letters — Madame Recamier's treatment of him considered — 
 Napoleon returns to France — Madame Recamier refuses to 
 leave Paris — Letter from the Queen of Naples — The fate of 
 Murat — Benjamin Constant's violent article in the Journal 
 des Debuts — He flies to Nantes — But returns, and is recon- 
 ciled to Napoleon — He becomes a Councillor of State — "Le 
 Benjaminisme " — Probable reason for Constant's tergiversations 
 
 Madame Recamier returned not only to Paris, but to 
 something of her former wealth, for in the interval her 
 husband had in a measure recovered his losses, while she 
 had inherited her mother's fortune of some 400,000 francs, 
 which had maintained her in exile. In person she was as 
 lovely as ever ; and the prestige of her self-sacrificing 
 friendship for Madame de Stael, and the sympathy which 
 Napoleon's cruel persecution of her had aroused, enhanced 
 the fame of her beauty, and her salon was as brilliant and 
 as crowded as ever. 
 
 Solitude and reflection had opened to Madame Recamier 
 
 132
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 fresh and more permanent sources of pleasure. During 
 the dreary months she had spent at Chalons and Lyons 
 she had been afforded opportunities for study which had 
 been denied her while living in the whirl of Parisian 
 gaiety ; and her taste for intellectual society had been 
 greatly stimulated by intercourse with such men as 
 Ballanche and the Canovas. She determined, henceforth, 
 to confine herself as much as possible to the society of 
 refined and cultivated people, and to withdraw from the 
 fashionable and somewhat dissipated circles she had 
 formerly frequented. To do so was now far easier than 
 before the Restoration, for society was beginning to return 
 into its old channel. During the Empire the salons had 
 never attained to anything approaching the brilliance 
 which had distinguished them under the old regime, partly 
 owing to the suspicion with which Napoleon regarded 
 them, and partly owing to the vulgarity of the ladies of 
 the Imperial Court. Now, however, allowing for the 
 difference of manners, they soon became of as much im- 
 portance as before the Revolution. 
 
 To Madame Recamier's social successes were added the 
 pleasures of renewed friendships. Madame de Stael was 
 one of the first to welcome her, and was, of course, over- 
 joyed at once more beholding her " dear angel." Mathieu 
 de Montmorency had also returned, and had iust been 
 appointed Chevalier cTHonneur to the Duchesse d'Angou- 
 leme, and was looked upon as one of the leaders of the 
 ultra- Royalists ; while among many other old friends, to 
 whom the gates of Paris had been opened by the fall of 
 Napoleon, was Madame Moreau, now, alas ! a widow. 
 
 After his expulsion from France in 1804, Moreau and 
 his wife had retired to America, where for nine years they 
 lived happily enough. Unfortunately, Madame Moreau, 
 
 133
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 who was an extremely ambitious woman, would not allow 
 her husband to rest, but persuaded him to open negotia- 
 tions with his old comrade Bernadotte, who had joined 
 the coalition against Napoleon. 
 
 At Bernadotte's suggestion, Moreau entered the service 
 of the Czar, and agreed to direct the operations of the 
 campaign of 1813. Fortunately for his fame as a patriot, 
 he did not live to invade his country, as he was mortally 
 wounded, while making a reconnaissance in company with 
 the Czar, before Dresden, on August 27, and died a few 
 days later. His last words, " Soyez tranquille, messieurs ; 
 cest mon sort" would seem to imply that he did not 
 altogether regret being removed from his equivocal posi- 
 tion as a general in arms against the troops which he had 
 so often led to victory. His body was embalmed at 
 Prague and conveyed to St. Petersburg, where the Czar 
 caused it to be buried in the Roman Catholic church in 
 that city. Alexander also bestowed upon the widow a 
 pension of 100,000 francs. 
 
 After the Restoration, Louis XVIII., wishing to testify 
 his respect for the memory of the Republican general, 
 offered Madame Moreau the title of " Duchess." This 
 she refused, but accepted that which would have belonged 
 to the soldier had he survived, and was, accordingly, created 
 Markhale de France^ the only time this dignity has been 
 conferred upon a woman. 
 
 Society was very gay that year in Paris. The national 
 pride was undoubtedly wounded by the presence of foreign 
 soldiers in the capital of France, especially when people 
 happened to be as unfortunate as the poor Duchesse 
 d'Abrantes, who had an officer of Cossacks billeted upon 
 her, who drank a bottle of brandy at every meal, and 
 went to bed in his boots and spurs ; but the Parisians 
 
 i34
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 consoled themselves with the reflection that their own 
 troops had bivouacked in every capital in continental 
 Europe. Moreover, disgust with Napoleon's insatiable 
 ambition and the conscriptions, which had sent so many 
 thousands of gallant young men to their death, was such 
 that the whole country breathed more freely now that the 
 despotic Government was no more. 
 
 With the returned exiles the English were the fashion, 
 and Wellington the hero of the day. The duke was a 
 frequent visitor at Madame de Steel's, and it was here 
 that Madame Recamier first met the conqueror of the 
 Peninsula, who, like every one else, seems to have at 
 once succumbed to the charms of the world-renowned 
 beauty. One of the fragments of Madame Recamier's 
 journal which has been preserved contains some interesting 
 memoranda relating to her acquaintance with the duke. 
 
 11 The Duke of Wellington. 
 
 " Madame de StaeTs enthusiasm for the Duke of 
 Wellington. I see him at her house for the first time. 
 Conversation during dinner. He pays me a visit the 
 following day. Madame de Stael meets him here. Lord 
 Wellington's visits become frequent. His opinion of 
 popularity. I present him to Queen Hortense. 1 Soiree 
 at the house of the Duchesse de Luynes. Conversation 
 with the Duke of Wellington before a glass door. 
 M. de Talleyrand and the Duchesse de Courland. Em- 
 pressement of M. de Talleyrand towards me. The feeling 
 
 1 Queen Hortense did not leave Paris on the downfall of Napoleon, 
 and, mainly through the pressure brought to bear upon him by the 
 Emperor Alexander, Louis XVIII. consented to create her Duchesse de 
 St. Leu, giving her at the same time her estates as an independent 
 duchy. 
 
 135
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 of aversion I have always entertained for him. Madame 
 de Boigne stops me as I am leaving, followed by the Duke 
 of Wellington. Continuation of his visits. Madame 
 de Stael wishes me to obtain influence over him. He 
 writes me unmeaning notes, which all resemble one 
 another. 1 I lend him Mademoiselle de L'Espinasse's 
 letters, which have just appeared. His opinion of these 
 letters. 2 He leaves Paris. I see him again after the 
 battle of Waterloo. He calls upon me the day after his 
 return. I did not expect him. Annoyance this visit 
 occasions me. He returns in the evening, and is denied 
 admission. I again refuse to see him the next day. He 
 writes to Madame de Stael to complain of my treatment 
 of him. I do not see him again. It is reported that he 
 is very much impressed with a young English lady, the 
 wife of one of his aides-de-camp. Return of Madame 
 de Stael to Paris. Dinner at the Queen of Sweden's with 
 
 1 Of these " unmeaning " notes the following one will serve as an 
 
 example : 
 
 " Paris, June 13. 
 
 " I confess, Madame, that I am not very sorry that business matters 
 will prevent my calling upon you after dinner ; since each time I see 
 you, I leave you more deeply impressed with your charms, and less 
 inclined to give my attention to politics ! ! ! I shall call upon you to- 
 morrow, provided you are at home, upon my return from the Abbe 
 Sicard's, and in spite of the dangerous effect such visits have upon me. 
 
 " Your very faithful servant, 
 
 " Wellington." 
 
 2 " J'etais tout hier a la chasse, Madame ; et je n'ai recu votre billet 
 et les livres qu'a la nuit, quand c'etait trop tard pour vous rcpondre. 
 J'espcrais que mon jugement serait guide par le votre dans ma lecture 
 des lettres de Mile. Espinasse, et je dcsespere de pouvoir le former moi- 
 meme. Je vous suis bien oblige pour la pamphletc de Mme. de Stael. 
 
 " Votre tres-obcissant et fidel serviteur, 
 
 " Wellington." 
 136
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 her and the Duke of Wellington, whom I then see 
 again. The coolness of his manner towards me. His 
 attention to the young English lady. I am placed at 
 dinner between him and the Due de Broglie. He is 
 sullen at the beginning of dinner, but grows animated, 
 and, finally, becomes very agreeable. I observe the 
 annoyance of the young English lady, who is seated 
 opposite to us. I cease talking to him, and devote myself 
 entirely to the Due de Broglie. I see the duke very 
 seldom. He comes to call on me at the Abbaye-aux-Bois 
 on his last visit to Paris." 
 
 Madame Recamier was undoubtedly flattered by the 
 attention paid her by the duke, but Madame Lenormant 
 tells us that, in spite of his fame, she did not find him 
 "either animated or interesting," and, consequently, did 
 not follow Madame de Stael's advice " to obtain influence 
 over him," " which," adds her enthusiastic niece, " without 
 a doubt she could have easily gained." On his return to 
 Paris after Waterloo, Wellington hastened to call upon 
 her, but Madame Recamier's patriotism was wounded by 
 his visit, and when, thinking that she would be delighted 
 at the defeat of her old persecutor, Napoleon, the duke 
 exclaimed, " Je Vat bien battu" her aunt, if we are to 
 believe Madame Lenormant, closed her doors against him 
 in disgust. 
 
 That same year, 1814, brought Madame Recamier 
 another admirer in the person of Benjamin Constant, the 
 famous orator and publicist, whose services she had engaged 
 at the request of the Murats to plead the cause of their 
 dynasty, the fate of which the Congress of Vienna was 
 about to decide. Constant was a man of brilliant parts, 
 but of a fickle and emotional temperament. Throughout 
 his life, we are told, he was " subject to feminine influences, 
 
 i37 
 
 1
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 as varied as they were powerful." When little more than 
 a boy, he lost his heart to Madame Charriere, to whom, 
 according to M. Melegari, his latest biographer, he was in 
 the habit of inditing " lettres seches et spirituelles." At 
 twenty-three, he married a young German girl, whom he 
 divorced three years later. He then became acquainted 
 with Madame de Stael, and aspired to become her second 
 husband, threatening to kill himself if she rejected his 
 suit. The authoress of Corinne remained obdurate, 
 however, in spite of his threats, and, instead of taking 
 his life, Constant consoled himself by marrying a sister of 
 Count Hardenberg, a lady who had already made two 
 experiments in matrimony. Now, at forty-seven, he fell 
 madly in love with Madame Recamier, and for many 
 months bombarded her with love-letters, which, in point 
 of absurdity, quite throw into the shade those which Lucien 
 Bonaparte had penned fifteen years before. These letters 
 have had a singular fate : they have been the subject of 
 three law-suits. 
 
 Soon after Madame Recamier's death, her niece, 
 Madame Lenormant, to whom she had bequeathed all 
 her letters and papers, with directions to utilise them 
 "according as her judgment dictated," attempted to 
 publish them. Both the Constant and the Recamier 
 families objected, however, and sought and obtained an 
 injunction restraining their publication. It was not until 
 thirty years had passed that another attempt was made to 
 give them to the world, this time with success, in spite 
 of the renewed opposition of the two families. Then 
 M. d'Estournelles, Benjamin Constant's great-nephew, 
 feeling that their publication was scarcely calculated to 
 increase his celebrated kinsman's reputation, claimed to be 
 allowed to insert a preface, entreating the reader not to 
 
 138
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 judge the publicist or the statesman by these epistles. But 
 this application was also set aside by the courts ; and now 
 all who care to do so may peruse Les Lettres de Benjamin 
 Constant a Madame Recamier^ selection from which, as no 
 English version of them has appeared, may not be without 
 interest to the reader. 
 
 Benjamin Constant to Madame Recamier. 
 
 " September 1S14. 
 
 " To-morrow evening ! To-morrow evening ! How 
 much, how much that evening means to me ! For me it 
 will commence at five o'clock in the morning. To-morrow ? 
 — nay, it is to-day ! Thank God, yesterday is over. Nine 
 o'clock will find me at your door. Perhaps I shall be told 
 you are not in. In that case, I shall return between ten 
 and eleven. 1 Shall I again be told that you are not at 
 home ? I think of no one save you. For the last two 
 days I seem to have seen no object but your face. All 
 the past, all your fascination that I have always dreaded, has 
 taken possession of my heart. I am speaking the truth, 
 when I tell you, that I can scarcely breathe while I am 
 writing to you. 
 
 " I have but one thought ; you have willed that it 
 should be so ; that thought is of you. Politics, society, 
 everything is forgotten. Perhaps you think me mad ; but 
 I recall your glance, I repeat to myself your words, I see 
 again that girlish air so full of grace and refinement. I 
 have reason for my madness — I should be mad not to be 
 so. Mon Dieu ! if you were not the most indifferent 
 of women, what a life of suffering I might be spared ! To 
 love is to suffer ; but it is also to live, and for a long 
 time I have not lived. Once more, till this evening 1 ,: 
 
 1 At this time Madame Kccamier used to receive after the Opera. 
 
 139
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 Benjamin Constant to Madame Recamier. 
 
 "Saint Clair, October 2, 18 14. 
 
 " Forgive me for being so near you. 1 I will not come 
 any nearer ; no one shall see me. I will shut myself up 
 in my room at the inn, and there await your answer. I 
 will wait six hours for one line in your writing, and then 
 return to Paris. I cannot live without you. I wander 
 about, wounded unto death, utterly incapable of recovering 
 my strength. But I much prefer to tire myself out on 
 horseback than to pine away in solitude, or in the midst 
 of a world that no longer understands me, in which I have 
 no longer any interest — a world that does nothing but 
 wonder at my wretchedness, and attribute it to the most 
 ridiculous causes. I shall never get better, of that I 
 am certain ; but I await the answer that is to relieve you 
 of my presence here. Tell me to go, and you shall be no 
 longer plagued by a man whose life and whose reason you 
 have ruined in one short month. 
 
 " Have you received the letter I wrote you yesterday ? 
 If you have not got it yet, you can easily guess its contents. 
 Had I your love, I should be able to endure everything, 
 even absence. But I have no support, no consoling 
 thought, and am dying of grief. Do you wish me to call 
 to-morrow with Auguste 2 and Victor de Broglie ? 3 My 
 doing so will excite no comment, and my refusal to come 
 might attract more attention than my arrival would do. 
 But, in that case, be kind enough to take a short walk with 
 me, or let me have an hour's talk with you. 
 
 1 Madame Ricamier was staying with her friend Madame de Catellan 
 at Angervilliers. St. Clair is a village a few miles from that town. 
 
 2 Auguste de Stael, Madame de StaeTs eldest son. 
 
 3 The Due de Broglie, who married Albertine de Stael, Madame de 
 Suel's only daughter. 
 
 140
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 " I am wearying you ; I am vexing you by my impor- 
 tunity. If the dreadful obstacle with which you have 
 threatened me is not to be overcome, I will go away. 
 You shall see me no more. I must at any price spare you 
 pain. Send me one word in answer to this, one line in 
 your handwriting. Tell me if I may come. But do not 
 let me come unless you have a word of comfort for me. 
 Pardon again, and pity me. Never man loved as I love, 
 or suffered as I suffer. Adieu ; I shall go back again as 
 soon as my messenger returns. 
 
 " If the others do not come, alas ! I shall not come 
 any more." 
 
 "October 1 8 14. 
 
 " I venture to remind you that you have promised to 
 receive me alone to-day at four o'clock. It is absolutely 
 necessary for me to speak to you about several matters ; 
 and I have not had a moment in which to do so. I am 
 going to ask your advice, and truly it is time I did so, for 
 my life is ruined, and I have but one thought — to speak 
 to you, and you continually avoid me. However, ordinary 
 friendship gives me the right to a few words of conversa- 
 tion with you, and you will do me a service, a true service, 
 in granting me those few words. You have given me 
 two hours to discuss the business of the King of Naples. 1 
 I ask you for one for myself. Condescend to give a 
 thought to the state in which I am, and to the sufferings 
 which I have been enduring for the last six weeks, and 
 listen to me this once." 
 
 1 The brochure written by Benjamin Constant in defence of the 
 Murats appeared anonymously. It was cited in the English House of 
 Commons during the debate on the affairs of Naples. Queen Caroline 
 sent the author an honorarium of 20,000 francs and a decoration. He 
 refused to accept either. 
 
 141
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 Benjamin Constant to Madame R£camier. 
 
 "October 1814. 
 
 Was I sufficiently resigned to my fate yesterday ? 
 Did I leave early enough, and have you deigned to give a 
 thought to what I was bound to suffer ? However, if 
 you will condescend to keep your promise, I will keep 
 mine. I do not wish your kindness to me to cost you a 
 single regret, and I feel bound to add to your happiness, 
 even at the expense of my own. . . . One day, perhaps, 
 you will be just ; to-day be happy, and be kind. 
 
 " I am dining then with you. You have promised to 
 allow me to come before dinner-time, for a moment's 
 conversation, I hope. I want also to make my peace with 
 M. Ballanche, whom I left rather abruptly while he was 
 talking to me about his verses on Pythagoras. Have you 
 read the letter I sent you yesterday ? In each of my 
 letters I ask you a thousand questions, but you never send 
 a line in reply, neither do you refer to them when we 
 meet. Thank Heaven, it is three o'clock, and M. de 
 F is no longer at your house ! " 1 
 
 Benjamin Constant to Madame R^camier. 
 
 " November 18 14. 
 
 " Acknowledge that you were fully aware of your 
 power, and of the magical state of subjection to which 
 you have reduced me, when I asked if you would be at 
 home to any one this evening, and you replied, * Not to 
 you at any rate ' ! Mon Dieu ! what have I done to be 
 treated like this, and yet not to have the courage to 
 complain ? 
 
 1 Comtc Auguste de Forbin, a painter of some distinction, and 
 Constant's rival in Madame Rccamier's affections. 
 
 142
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 "... I am going to spend at least three days without 
 seeing you. I know not how I shall be able to endure them. 
 Be kind to me to-day at least. From what people have 
 said to me this evening, I am sure that those cruel pre- 
 cautions which you insist on are quite unnecessary. No 
 one has any suspicion of my real feelings towards you. 
 They attribute my unhappiness to a totally different 
 cause. I tell you again that my going to Angervilliers will 
 not create the least scandal. Will you not allow me to 
 escort you this morning a little way on your road ? Then 
 I shall have a few minutes more in your society. At any 
 rate, be kind to me. My terrible unhappiness has astonished 
 everybody, and will end by ruining me. You have made 
 me a trifle calmer. Do not spoil your own handiwork. 
 Never was heart so devoted as mine. Try and do me 
 some good. You can make of me what you will." 
 
 Benjamin Constant to Madame Recamier. 
 
 " November 1814. 
 
 " Is there, then, no answer to my letter ? 
 
 " I cannot part from you under a misunderstanding like 
 this. My miserable heart is breaking. One moment's 
 conversation to cement a friendship which will last for 
 
 ever." 
 
 " November 18 14. 
 
 " In Heaven's name, an answer ! Oh, that I might see 
 you ! I will not speak to you about anything you object 
 to. I have hardly sufficient strength to prevent myself 
 from fainting. As soon as I see you, I shall be better. 
 Suffer me to see you, then, and be myself once more. Do 
 not utterly crush a man, who has never done you any harm, 
 and who was, a little time ago, a man of some distinction. 
 One word, a quarter of an hour's talk, in God's name," 
 
 m
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 Benjamin Constant to Madame R£camier. 
 
 "November 1814. 
 
 " I am as grateful to you as if you had saved my life. 
 As a matter of fact, for the last two hours I had ceased to 
 live. I have been pacing up and down my room, catching 
 hold of the furniture to prevent myself from rushing to 
 your house, and a visitor who called was so terrified at 
 the state of agitation in which he found me, that he 
 advised me to consult a doctor for the affection of the 
 nerves from which he imagined me to be suffering. Oh ! 
 it is impossible to live devoured by such a passion. 
 
 " You order me not to call to-day. I submit. Be 
 grateful to me ; for, after this morning, I should have had 
 indeed need to speak out, to cast myself at your feet, to 
 implore you not to become what I am always fearing you 
 will become when I am some time without seeing you. I 
 can scarcely breathe ; but you have written to me at last, 
 you have given a thought to me. 1 obey then. . . . 
 
 " I should be able to see you between dinner-time and 
 the ball ; but no ; I wish to prove to you that I can obey 
 at whatever cost to myself. I am in Heaven in comparison 
 with the condition in which I was an hour ago. For 
 pity's sake do not kill me. I live on so little ! Never 
 man loved or suffered as I do. To-morrow, then, at two 
 o'clock. Accept my thanks for having rescued me from 
 the frenzy which was consuming me. To-morrow, to- 
 morrow ! I shall keep on repeating those words all day. 
 
 " If you have any message for me, I shall be at home 
 until just on six o'clock. You understand that I have not 
 abandoned all hope of seeing you to-day. But no ; I will 
 abandon it. My wish is to obey you. Till to-morrow ! 
 Nevertheless, I shall stay at home until six o'clock." 
 
 144.
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 Benjamin Constant to Madame R£camier. 
 
 "November 14, 18 14. 
 
 " I believe that you do not read my letters : I implore 
 you to read this one. It concerns my reason and my life 
 — matters of little importance to you — but it also concerns 
 a life which is more precious to you than mine. 
 
 11 It is five o'clock in the morning ; I have passed a 
 night of hellish torment. You do not believe in my 
 wretchedness ; it is far worse than anything that I can 
 describe to you ; and if God were to permit me to die 
 this instant, I should bless Him for His goodness. I 
 pray fervently to Him to let me do so ; I ask only this 
 favour of Him, for I hold life in abhorrence. But all this 
 is of no consequence to you. Go on reading, however, I 
 beg you. 
 
 11 You have sent me away at half-past eleven o'clock, 
 when I might have remained with you without your 
 suffering any inconvenience, without any person remarking 
 it. When I am at your house in the company of other 
 people, you send me away for fear that any one should be 
 surprised at my remaining behind the others. You have 
 sent me away when I have come to you, dolt that I was, 
 my heart full of a foolish joy at having some pleasant 
 little piece if news to relate to you. You don't wish to 
 be alone with me, but I have found you alone with that 
 man, whose name I have no wish to mention. You do 
 not love me ; I know it. You interrupt me when I begin 
 to speak ; your only desire is not to witness my grief. 
 Were I to die while at a distance from you, it would 
 trouble you very little. 
 
 " I am willing to relieve you of my presence ; I promise 
 you I will do so. I have made all arrangements ; my 
 
 145 K
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 mind was made up long ago. But until then, in the name 
 of that devotion which you despise, in the name of that 
 heart which you are rending, out of pity for yourself, be 
 kind to me, and do not show me, every time I see you, 
 that I am as dirt in your eyes in comparison with the 
 man against whom I can hardly contain myself. 1 
 
 " I have no desire to kill him ; but my blood boils in 
 my veins when I see him laughing at my folly, him, the 
 scourge of my life, who has not dared to revenge himself 
 upon me, and who has not had the courage to shed a 
 single drop of his blood for your sake. I tell you, I have 
 no desire to kill him. I wish to go away without taking 
 vengeance for the frightful injury he has done me. But 
 you do not understand me. In your presence I am timid ; 
 I pretend to be cheerful in order not to displease you ; 
 but despair is in my heart, and all my reason has forsaken 
 me. I love no one save you. I live only for your sake ; 
 the rest is agony and convulsion. Suffer me during the 
 few — the very few — days I shall be here to see you and 
 speak to you freely. Then I shall look forward to the 
 day of my departure ; 1 shall welcome it with joy as a last 
 resource, and, if it fails me, at any rate, I shall die far 
 away from you, which is all you care about. 
 
 " But I can control myself no longer. You do not 
 wish me to take vengeance. Condescend, then, to give 
 me some reason for renouncing it. You have promised 
 me an hour this morning and one this evening, the same 
 as you have given that man. In God's name do not 
 disappoint me. I love you madly : forgive me for doing 
 so. You are everything to me on this earth. Consider 
 that, if you repulse me, I have nothing in the world to lose. 
 
 1 M. de Forbin. Constant challenged him to a duel, but Madame 
 Rccamier interfered, and the meeting did not take place. 
 
 146
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 If your door is closed to me, I know where that man's is, 
 and one of us shall not cross the threshold alive. Pardon 
 me for writing such a letter ; it is the expression of the 
 most awful suffering ; it is dictated by the desire to spare 
 you pain. Do not be afraid of my complaints. When I 
 am with you a single word is sufficient to reduce me to 
 submission. I will speak of nothing that you do not 
 wish me to speak of. But bear with me, tolerate me, until 
 my departure, which I shall take care to hasten. 
 
 " Believe me, I am making a sacrifice for your sake. 
 After the happiness of possessing you, the desire that is 
 nearest my heart is to kill the man who has ruined my life, 
 and afterwards to die. Forgive me, once again. I know 
 not what I am writing. I will relieve you of the burden 
 of my presence, do not doubt it. This devotion which 
 annoys you, this love which wearies you, I, in short, whom 
 you loathe, all shall vanish away." 
 
 Benjamin Constant to Madame Recamier. 
 
 " December 14, 1 8 1 4. 
 
 " Here is a letter from Madame de Catellan, which I 
 enclose to show you that other people find some pleasure 
 in my society. I stand in precisely the same position in 
 regard to you as a certain lady once stood to me. She 
 used, also, to send me the pathetic letters which people 
 wrote to her ; but you are not in the position in which 
 I was placed. She demanded that I should break my bonds, 
 and forsake the person to whom I was legally bound. I do 
 not demand of you anything of the kind. To-night, 
 during which I have again examined the evidence of my 
 frenzy, has proved to me that all I require is to see you, 
 and talk to you freely for a few minutes every day or 
 every other day. In the name of morality, religion, and 
 
 H7
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 conscience, you cannot refuse me : that is the only way to 
 calm me, and to calm me completely for the time being. I 
 only saw you for a moment this morning, and I have 
 gathered sufficient strength to last me till this evening. 
 If I can talk to you for a quarter of an hour this evening 
 about the plan I propose trying, I shall have sufficient to 
 last me until to-morrow. But I swear to you that, strive as 
 I may, it will be dangerous for you to refuse this request. 
 I shall, on my part, do my utmost to cure myself, but I 
 have not sufficient strength. You alone can give it me. 
 I will be so cheerful, so self-contained, and so pleasant, that 
 I shall be able to prevent your self-sacrifice being too 
 trying a one. But consider, I implore you, that it is not 
 by spurning the passion that overwhelms my heart that 
 you will cure me ; but by doing exactly the contrary." 
 
 Benjamin Constant to Madame R£camier. 
 
 "Brussels, November 8, 1815. 
 
 "... My despair at your silence has caused me to 
 make a mistake so ridiculous that, in spite of all my sadness, 
 I am unable to keep from laughing. I had begun a letter 
 to you with these words : ' I warn you that your neglect 
 is driving me to despair, and that I shall not live unless 
 you come to my help. Have a care for yourself also. 
 Neither you nor I know what death means, and when you 
 have driven me to it, &c.' I had, at the same time, written 
 to M. Meuss, a correspondent of M. R6camier, asking him 
 to take care of some property of mine during my journey 
 to Hanover. In the agitated state in which I was I 
 mistook the letters, and I sent to M. Meuss the one 
 intended for you. Fortunately he had gone out, and I 
 have been able to get back my letter. But when I picture 
 to myself the worthy banker receiving my letter, and 
 
 148
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 reading that his forgetfulness was driving me out of my 
 senses, and that I should kill myself if he neglected me, I 
 cannot think of his astonishment without laughing." 
 
 As none of Madame Recamier's letters to Constant 
 have been preserved, we have no means of ascertaining 
 on what sort of fuel this devouring flame was nourished. 
 Madame Lenormant, as might be expected, denies that 
 her aunt gave her importunate adorer " the slightest 
 encouragement," and, immediately afterwards, naively 
 admits that "at their first interview Madame Recamier 
 exerted herself to please, and succeeded but too well." 
 An extract from Constant's diary, which St.-Beuve quotes 
 in his Derniers Portraits, confirms this : 
 
 " Madame Recamier takes it into her head to make me 
 fall in love with her. I am forty-seven years of age. 
 Rendezvous which she gives me under the pretext of 
 some business relating to Murat. Her manner to me 
 that evening. ' Dare to make love to me ! * says she. I 
 leave her house madly in love. My whole life is bouleversee. 
 Invitation to Angervilliers. Coquetry and cruelty of 
 Madame Recamier. I am the most wretched of men. 
 My frightful mental sufferings prevent me from writing 
 a line of common sense. I am beginning to lose money 
 at play, because I can think of nothing but Madame 
 Recamier." l 
 
 The Due de Broglie, too, declares that Madame 
 Recamier carried on a " coquetterie flagrante " with Benjamin 
 Constant and Auguste de Forbin at the same time ; and 
 that at a bal masque, at which, contrary to the usual 
 custom, the men as well as the ladies wore masks, she, 
 
 1 Constant was a terrible gambler. In his Journal Intime he speaks 
 of winning and losing as much as 30,000 francs at a sitting. 
 
 149
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 much to his surprise, singled him out for special preference, 
 so that, as he was in disguise, Constant thought he was 
 Forbin, and Forbin thought he was Constant, and were 
 both consumed with jealousy on account of the favour 
 which each thought was being shown to his rival. 1 
 
 Truth, therefore, compels us reluctantly to admit that 
 Madame Recamier did flirt outrageously with Constant, 
 though, probably, not more so than with a score of other 
 men. And we should also remember before condemning 
 her that Madame Recamier was not an ordinary flirt. 
 Like Madame de Sevigne, she possessed the rare talent of 
 being able to persuade a lover to be content with friend- 
 ship ; and Constant's case is, perhaps, the only one in 
 which any of her innumerable adorers suffered for their 
 infatuation. If any persons had a right to complain of 
 her conduct, they were the wives of some of her married 
 admirers; but, then, Us convenances entered so largely 
 into French matrimonial unions in those days, and madame 
 was generally so very complacent a lady, that we question 
 whether, even in this quarter, very much harm was done. 
 
 With regard to Constant, it would appear probable 
 that Madame Recamier for once overrated her power of 
 changing the lover into the friend, and that, when she 
 became conscious of the desperate passion with which she 
 had inspired him, she was afraid to repulse him too 
 abruptly lest he should really destroy himself, as he was 
 perpetually threatening to do. Madame Recamier, 
 however, in later life, admitted that she had treated Constant 
 badly, and she wished his letters to her to be published 
 after her death in order to justify him. But, when we 
 take into consideration the fact that Constant had on at 
 least one occasion attempted to commit suicide, when a 
 
 1 Due dc Broglie's Souvenirs, i. 288. 
 150
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 lady had rejected his addresses ; and that he was the 
 creator of Adolphe, who expounds the publicist's own 
 views with regard to the relation of the sexes, and is 
 surely one of the most worthless scamps to be met with 
 in fiction, we cannot believe that he is entitled to any 
 large amount of sympathy. 
 
 When, in March 1815, all Europe was astounded at 
 the news of Napoleon's return from Elba, and the emigres, 
 lately so exultant, fled like naughty schoolboys when their 
 master's step is heard returning to the schoolroom, 
 Madame Recamier courageously refused to voluntarily 
 exile herself, and remained in Paris, though Madame de 
 Stael besought her to fly with her to Coppet, and the 
 Queen of Naples wrote offering her an asylum in that 
 
 city. 
 
 " We are very tranquil here," wrote the queen. " Our 
 people love us, and we love them. A change of govern- 
 ment, moreover, would involve acts of vengeance and 
 other calamities. They dread more than ever anything 
 that may tend to bring back Ferdinand.'* 
 
 Poor Queen Caroline little knew that, at the very 
 moment she was penning this letter, her husband was 
 meditating that act of criminal folly which was to cost 
 him both his throne and life. 
 
 When the Congress of Vienna met, the previous year, 
 Murat soon found that his removal from the throne of 
 Naples was one of the principal objects of France ; and 
 neither the solemn treaty with Austria, into which he had 
 entered, with so many misgivings, while Madame Reca- 
 mier was at Naples, nor the old affection of Metternich 
 for Caroline, nor the brilliant causistry of Benjamin 
 Constant were likely to prove serious obstacles to its 
 realisation. 
 
 *5» 
 
 l
 
 
 
 I 
 
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 Furious at finding that his treachery to his old master 
 and benefactor was likely to prove unavailing, Murat no 
 sooner heard of Napoleon's landing than he turned round 
 once more, and, with incredible rashness, led his army 
 against the Austrians. He advanced as far as the Po, 
 but was utterly routed by the Imperialists under Neipperg, 
 afterwards the second husband of Marie Louise, at Tolen- 
 tino, and compelled to fly to France. Napoleon, however, 
 had not forgiven him for his desertion in 1814, and not 
 only refused to see him, but gave orders that he was to 
 leave French territory at once. 
 
 Murat then went to Corsica, where he remained in 
 hiding for some weeks, refusing Metternich's offer of an 
 asylum provided he would pledge his word not to leave 
 the Austrian dominions. In the autumn he landed in 
 Calabria, with the intention of making an effort to recover 
 his kingdom, but was taken prisoner, and, after a mockery 
 of a trial by a court-martial, shot on October 13. "He 
 died as he had lived," says Bourrienne, " a brave but 
 theatrical man, with his last breath giving the order to 
 the firing party to spare his face." 1 
 
 Madame Recamier was probably strengthened in her 
 resolution to remain in Paris by a letter she received at 
 this time from her friend Queen Hortense, promising to 
 intercede for her with the Emperor should the occasion 
 arise. She had no reason to regret her decision, for 
 Napoleon, even if he was aware of her presence, thought 
 it best to ignore it, and left her in peace. 
 
 Few people had more cause to dread Napoleon's return 
 than had Madame Recamier's infatuated slave Benjamin 
 Constant. He had been banished for his opposition to 
 him during the Consulate ; he had fought against him, 
 
 1 Bourrienne's Memoirs of Napoleon, iv. 289. 
 152
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 and had treated him more roughly in his brochure De 
 VEsprit de Conquete than even Chateaubriand had done in 
 De Bonaparte et des Bourbons. To crown all, on March 19, 
 the same day that Louis XVIII. fled from Paris, there 
 appeared over Constant's well - known signature in the 
 ^Journal des Debats a violent article, in which Napoleon 
 was compared to Attila and Genghis Khan, and which 
 concluded with the words that have become historical : 
 
 " I have seen that liberty is possible under a monarchy. 
 I have seen the people rallying round the king. I will 
 not, like a miserable turncoat, crawl from one power to 
 another, cover my infamy with sophistry, and stammer 
 out profane words to ransom a shameful life." 
 
 It has been repeatedly asserted that Constant wrote this 
 article solely to please Madame Recamier, and a letter he 
 sends her the next day, in which, after telling her that a 
 few days will see him either a proscribed fugitive or the 
 occupant of a dungeon, and begging her to give him a 
 little of her time in the meanwhile, he concludes by asking 
 her if she is satisfied with what he has written in the 
 Debats, seems to confirm this ; while the Due de Broglie 
 declares that he saw Constant strutting up and down 
 Madame Recamier's salon, brandishing the newspaper 
 containing his famous article in the face of his rival 
 Forbin, as if challenging him to emulation of his reckless 
 daring. 
 
 Before Napoleon reached Paris, however, Constant, 
 yielding to the entreaties of his friends, fled to Nantes, 
 with the intention of taking ship for England. But, when 
 he arrived there, the dictates of his heart appear to have 
 got the better of the counsels of prudence. " To live 
 perhaps for years," says his biographer, M. Melegari, 
 " without again beholding her who had caused him so much 
 
 153 
 
 f
 
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 misery proved too much for his courage. He preferred 
 to brave every danger, and to return to Paris." 1 
 
 On his return a temptation, for which he was in no 
 way prepared, was awaiting him. Napoleon, instead of 
 demanding his head, began to make overtures to him on 
 the basis of constitutional liberty. He was sent for to 
 the Tuileries, greeted as cordially by the Emperor as if 
 he had been one of his most devoted adherents, and 
 invited to draw up a plan of constitutional government. 
 A few days later, the Moniteur announced that Benjamin 
 Constant had become one of the Emperor's Councillors of 
 State. 
 
 The result of this reconciliation between the publicist 
 and his old enemy was the Acte Additionnel^ which pleased 
 no one save a few doctrinaires ', and was called by the 
 Parisians in derision "Le Benjaminisme." 
 
 Poor Benjamin Constant has been held up to odium 
 both by his contemporaries and by historians on account 
 of these remarkable tergiversations ; but we are inclined 
 to think that he has been too hardly used. If it is 
 admitted that his article in the Debats was inspired 
 entirely by the desire to propitiate Madame Recamier — 
 which is probably the case — then there was nothing very 
 remarkable in his attaching himself to Napoleon, for, as a 
 staunch supporter of liberty, he might very well have 
 imagined that there was a better chance of constitutional 
 government under a restored Napoleon, who might be 
 inclined to profit by bitter experience, than under a 
 restored Louis, surrounded by fanatical priests and 
 revengeful emigres. Constant, moreover, was a curious 
 compound of generosity, ambition, and vanity, and he was 
 as wax in the hands of so keen a judge of human nature 
 
 1 Introduction to Benjamin Constant's Journal Intime, p. 52. 
 
 15+
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 as Napoleon, who seems to have succeeded with very little 
 difficulty in convincing him of his good faith, and of his 
 need of his assistance in carrying out the proposed 
 reforms. 1 
 
 Very different was the reception which the Emperor's 
 overtures met with from another of Madame Recamier 's 
 friends — Madame de Stael — to whom he wrote begging 
 her to return to Paris " as her presence was required for 
 constitutional ideas." " You have done without a Con- 
 stitution or me for twelve years," she replied, " and even 
 now you are not fonder of one than the other." 
 
 But, however strong may have been Constant's love of 
 liberty, however great his ambition and vanity, they were 
 as dust in the balance in comparison with his hopeless 
 passion for Madame Recamier. A few days after he had 
 decided to throw in his lot with the Emperor, and had 
 accepted office at his hands, we find him writing to 
 Madame Recamier offering to resign his post the next 
 day if such was her will. 
 
 Could anything be more abject ? 
 
 1 " Benjamin writes to Madame de Stael that he firmly believes that 
 he will establish a liberal Constitution, and that a change has come over 
 Bonaparte." — Charles Constant to his sister Rosalie, April 17, 181 5. 
 
 «55
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 Madame de Kriidener — Her early life — Valerie — Her con- 
 version — Her extraordinary ascendency over the Emperor 
 Alexander — His visits to her at the Hotel Montchenu — Un- 
 successful efforts of Talleyrand and Metternich to counteract 
 her influence — Her evening seances become the fashion — 
 Chateaubriand's opinion of her — Her sympathy for Benjamin 
 Constant — Her friendship with Madame Recamier — Proposes 
 to establish a " lien d'atne " between Constant and Madame 
 Recamier — But fails — Constant becomes a mystic — And a 
 devil-worshipper — The Due de Broglie's account of his con- 
 duct — Madame de Kriidener goes to Switzerland — Her letter 
 to Madame Recamier — Her last years and death — Madame 
 de Stael returns to Paris — Popularity of her receptions — Her 
 illness and death 
 
 When the allied sovereigns returned to Paris after Water- 
 loo, there came with them Madame de Kriidener, " the 
 keeper of the Emperor Alexander's conscience," and one 
 of the most remarkable women of the period. This lady, 
 who was the widow of Baron de Kriidener, a distinguished 
 Russian diplomatist, had been an extremely beautiful 
 and fascinating woman, and, although now past middle 
 life, still retained something of her former charms. She 
 had at one time resided in Paris, where she had mixed in 
 the gayest society, and had achieved a considerable literary 
 reputation by the publication of a remarkable novel called 
 Valerie^ " a work," says Sainte-iieuve, " of prodigious 
 
 156
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 success in the highest circles in France and Germany, and 
 which can be read three times in a lifetime — in youth, 
 middle age, and old age." l This book is generally 
 believed to have been a record of her own early married 
 life, which had been by no means a blameless one, although 
 her husband — who, it may be mentioned, as an illustration 
 of the lax morality of the time, had been twice married 
 and twice divorced before he met her — had treated her 
 with a forbearance hardly conceivable in our own age, and 
 had refused to avail himself of his legal remedy. Madame 
 de Kriidener, however, in spite of her frailty, seems to have 
 been the possessor of a naturally sensitive conscience, 
 which never allowed her to rest content with her frivolous 
 
 1 The phenomenal success which Valerie met with in Paris was due 
 in no small measure to the singular manoeuvres in which its authoress 
 indulged in order to advertise it. " For several days she made the 
 rounds of the fashionable shops, asking sometimes for shawls, some- 
 times for hats, feathers, wreaths, or ribbons, all a la Valerie. When 
 they saw this beautiful and elegant stranger alight from her carriage, 
 and inquire for fancy articles which she invented on the spur of the 
 moment, the shopkeepers were seized with a polite desire to oblige her 
 by every means in their power. Moreover, the lady would soon 
 pretend to recognise the articles she had asked for ; and if the unfor- 
 tunate shop-girls, confused by such unusual demands, seemed puzzled 
 and denied all knowledge of the article, Mme. de Kriidener would smile 
 graciously, and commiserate them for their ignorance of the new book, 
 thus converting them all into eager readers of Valerie. Then, laden 
 with her purchases, she would drive off to another establishment, 
 pretending to search for things which only existed in her imagination. 
 Thanks to these manoeuvres she succeeded in arousing such ardent 
 competition in honour of her heroine that, for at least a week, the 
 shops sold everything a la Valerie. Her own friends, the innocent 
 accomplices of her stratagem, also paid visits to shops on her recom- 
 mendation, thus carrying the fame of her book through the Faubourg 
 St. Germain and the Chausscc d'Antin." — Eynard's Vie de Madame de 
 Kriidener, i. 136. 
 
 *57
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 surroundings ; and, on her return to her estates in Livonia, 
 in 1805, her sense of the vanity of earthly things gradually 
 deepened, and she became a member of the Moravian 
 community. In 1808 she fell under the influence of 
 Jung Stilling and Oberlin, and ultimately resolved to 
 adopt the vocation of an itinerant preacher. 
 
 Her obvious sincerity, her intellectual attainments, and 
 her social position enabled her to command attention 
 wherever she went, especially in Switzerland, where she 
 made many converts. At Heilbronn, in the spring of 
 1 8 1 5, she obtained an audience of the Emperor Alexander, 
 and rapidly acquired a most extraordinary ascendency over 
 the mind of that somewhat impressionable monarch, who, 
 although he had not escaped unscathed the contamination 
 of the immoral Russian Court, had never abandoned his 
 early religious convictions, and had for years been seeking 
 some more satisfying spiritual consolation than the 
 lifeless, though gorgeous, services of his own Church 
 afforded. 
 
 On his return to Paris, the change which had come over 
 the hitherto gay and pleasure-loving sovereign was at 
 once apparent, and caused the most unbounded astonish- 
 ment. Whereas, during his previous visit, Alexander 
 had mixed freely in society, where he had been the gayest 
 of the gay, he now eschewed every form of private enter- 
 tainment, and abstained, as far as possible, even from 
 official festivities. While the Empress was absent in 
 England he shut himself up in his apartments at the 
 Elysee Bourbon, where he devoted himself to State 
 business and devotional exercises, and received only those 
 whom it was impossible to exclude. His reason in thus 
 temporarily retiring from the world seems to have been a 
 sense of his inability to resist the temptations with which he 
 
 158 
 
 f
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 was surrounded. " Pray for me," he said one evening to 
 Madame de Krudener; "pray to the Almighty to strengthen 
 me against the evil influences of this city. Up to the 
 present I have resisted its seductions, but man is so weak, 
 that unless he is sustained by grace, he succumbs to the 
 temptations which beset him on every side. I feel the 
 necessity of avoiding society ; that is the reason I asked 
 for a retired residence. In the apartment which I occupy 
 I find a great deal of peace ; I work, I study the Scriptures, 
 I commune with God in prayer, and I put my trust in 
 His merciful and tender protection in all that He helps 
 me to avoid." 
 
 Every alternate evening, as soon as his official duties 
 would permit, Alexander, accompanied only by a single 
 servant, used to walk across from the Elysee Bourbon to 
 the Hotel Montchenu, in the Faubourg St. Honore, where 
 Madame de Krudener was staying ; and was received by 
 his spiritual directress in a little sitting-room, adjoining the 
 salon, in which she was accustomed to receive those who 
 desired to confer with her privately on religious matters. 
 Here the Czar frequently remained until a very late hour, 
 the time being spent in prayer and in the study of the 
 Bible. By his express wish, Madame de Krudener always 
 spoke to the Autocrat of All the Russias as freely as she 
 would have done to the humblest of her disciples. " Do 
 not be afraid, madame," he would exclaim when sometimes 
 the lady hesitated, fearing that her enthusiasm was carrying 
 her too far. " Scold me well, and by God's grace I will 
 carry out all your instructions." 
 
 On Sundays Madame de Krudener had a place reserved 
 for her in a room overlooking the Emperor's private 
 chapel, in the Elysee Bourbon, where, with her features 
 concealed by a white veil, she remained throughout the 
 
 ICO
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 service in order that her soul might be united in prayer 
 with that of her royal disciple. 
 
 The intimate relations which existed between the 
 Emperor and Madame de Kriidener, as may well be 
 supposed, speedily became the talk of Paris, and gave rise 
 to many conflicting rumours. The diplomatists at that 
 time assembled in the French capital were naturally much 
 exercised in their minds as to the real significance of this 
 unexpected development, and had recourse to all the 
 private sources of information at their disposal in order to 
 unravel the mystery. That the connection was anything 
 but an ordinary intrigue they at first refused to believe ; 
 and when, at length, they were assured that it was one of 
 a purely religious character, their scorn and astonishment 
 knew no bounds. However, they were fully alive to the 
 important political consequences which might follow these 
 evening seances; and both Talleyrand and his rival 
 Metternich, fraternising for the nonce in the face of a 
 common danger, laid their heads together to discover 
 some means to wean the Czar from his allegiance to 
 his middle-aged enchantress. To this end the most 
 renowned beauties of Paris and Vienna were pressed into 
 the service of the astute diplomatists, and paraded for 
 the delectation of the Russian monarch. But in vain 
 was the net spread : Alexander rose superior to all such 
 intrigues. 
 
 Although at this period unbelief was rampant in 
 Paris, its volatile citizens, like the Athenians in the 
 time of St. Paul, dearly loved novelty in whatever form 
 it might be offered to them ; and when, in July 
 1815, Madame de Kriidener threw open the doors of 
 the Hotel de Montchenu to all her friends, rich and 
 poor alike, who cared to take part in her evangelistic 
 
 160
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 services, numbers of people drawn thither either by 
 curiosity or interest flocked to the house. 
 
 Here in a salon, destitute of all furniture save a few 
 rush-bottomed chairs and a plain deal table, they were 
 received by their hostess, who was habited, not in majestic 
 sacerdotal robes, as certain chroniclers of those times have 
 depicted her, but in a dark woollen gown, cut in the 
 extreme of simplicity. The services, which began at 
 seven o'clock in the evening, were conducted by Empaytaz, 
 a young divine who shared her wanderings, and consisted 
 of an extempore prayer and an exposition of a portion of 
 the Scriptures. Madame de Krudener herself usually 
 knelt among the crowd, and took no prominent part in 
 the service, but was always ready to confer with those 
 who might wish to consult her in private. As her fame 
 spread, these private interviews became so numerous that 
 at length she could scarcely find leisure for food or rest. 
 
 Among the throng of notable people who, from different 
 motives, attended these services were Chateaubriand, 
 Benjamin Constant, Baron de Gerando, the philanthropist, 
 Gregoire, Bishop of Blois, the Duchesse de Bourbon, and 
 Princess Sophia Volkonski. 
 
 Chateaubriand, who had been on intimate terms with 
 the evangelist during her former residence in Paris, seems 
 to have been attracted to the Hotel Montchenu more by 
 the remembrance of their old friendship, and, possibly, also, 
 as the lady's latest biographer suggests, by the hope of 
 entering into personal relations with the Czar, than by any 
 sympathy with her religious methods. " I infinitely pre- 
 ferred Madame de Krudener," he says, " when, surrounded 
 with flowers, and an inhabitant of this miserable world, she 
 composed Valerie." 
 
 Constant, however, carried away with him a very 
 
 161 L
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 different impression. He had known Madame de Kriidener 
 in Switzerland, and was now a frequent visitor at her 
 house, "an unchanged Adolphe in the presence of a 
 regenerated Valerie." 
 
 To Madame Recamier, after one of these visits, he 
 writes as follows : 
 
 " I have spent the whole day alone, and I only went out 
 in order to call on Madame de Kriidener. The excellent 
 woman ! She does not know all, but she sees that I am 
 devoured by some frightful grief. She kept me three 
 hours in order to console me. She told me to pray for 
 those who caused me to suffer, and to offer up my 
 sufferings in expiation for them if they were in need of 
 the sacrifice." 
 
 It may readily be imagined that it was not long before 
 Madame Recamier found herself drawn to the Hotel de 
 Montchenu, and a warm friendship sprang up between 
 these two women, each so supreme in her own particular 
 sphere. Unfortunately Madame Recamier's presence seems 
 to have occasionally diverted attention from graver matters, 
 and, accordingly, Benjamin Constant was deputed by 
 Madame de Kriidener to write to her on the subject. 
 
 " I acquit myself with no little embarrassment," he 
 says, " of a commission which Madame de Kriidener has 
 just given me. She begs that you will come to her house 
 with as few charms as possible. She says that you dazzle 
 every one present, and, consequently, all hearts are 
 troubled, and all real attention becomes impossible. You 
 cannot divest yourself of your beauty, but, pray, do not 
 enhance it." 
 
 Madame de Kriidener, however, in spite of this gentle 
 remonstrance, attached no little importance to the presence 
 of the celebrated beauty at her gatherings, and was as 
 
 162
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 anxious for her conversion as Mathieu de Montmorency 
 had been. 
 
 Benjamin Constant, as we have said, was one of the 
 most frequent of Madame de Kriidener's visitors. The 
 evangelist was of an intensely sympathetic nature, and felt 
 great compassion for Benjamin Constant, bowed down as 
 he was under the weight of the universal reprobation 
 which his extraordinary conduct during the Hundred Days 
 had brought upon him, and a prey to fits of bitter 
 irony and morbid self-abasement. Encouraged by her 
 sympathy, it was not long before he made her the 
 confidante of his unfortunate love-affair, whereupon she 
 promised him her help to establish between him and the 
 object of his attachment what Constant, in his Journal 
 In/ime, calls a " lien d'dme." J 
 
 Whatever results the publicist may have been led to 
 expect from this mysterious connection, it is clear that 
 they were not realised, for, a few days later, he writes in 
 the same interesting autobiography : " Alas ! Madame 
 de Krudener has not been a prophetess, for Juliette has 
 never treated me more shamefully. Yesterday she gave 
 me four rendezvous, not one of which did she keep ; and 
 this evening I have found her a chef-d'oeuvre of coquetry, 
 deceit, vanity, hypocrisy, and affectation." 2 
 
 The unhappy man at this time appears to have been 
 going through a further transformation. Under the 
 influence of his Russian friend he became a mystic. 
 " He used," says the Due de Broglie, " to spend whole 
 nights in the salon of Madame de Krudener, in company 
 with other new converts, sometimes praying on his knees, 
 at other times stretched on the floor in fits of ecstasy; 
 
 1 Benjamin Constant's Journal Intime, p. 146. 
 * Ibid. p. 147. 
 
 163 
 
 i
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 all to no purpose, for what he used to ask of God, God 
 occasionally permits in his wrath, but regards with abhor- 
 rence. Being in love with Madame Recamier, who, 
 though already on the turn of life, was still beautiful, 
 Benjamin Constant begged of God to turn the lady's 
 heart in his favour, and, as God was deaf to his prayers, 
 the lover made up his mind to apply to the devil, which 
 was more natural." 1 The duke further relates how one 
 dark, stormy night, while Constant, Auguste de Stael, and 
 himself were returning from Angervilliers, where they had 
 been visiting Madame de Catellan, Constant took them 
 into his confidence with regard to the efforts he had been 
 making to strike a bargain with the enemy of mankind. 
 At first they felt inclined to laugh, but as Constant pro- 
 ceeded, he gave the two young men such an insight into 
 his distracted soul, that any wish to make fun of him 
 entirely disappeared. 
 
 However, prayers and incantations were alike unavailing, 
 and after 1 8 1 5 we hear very little of Constant in connec- 
 tion with Madame Recamier. " At the end of eighteen 
 months," says his sympathetic biographer, who, by the 
 way, seems unnecessarily severe on the object of the pub- 
 licist's misplaced affections, " his passion extinguished it- 
 self, like a fire which has burned too rapidly and received 
 no fuel, leaving Adolphe ashamed of himself, wretched, 
 embittered." 2 
 
 In September, 18 15, the Emperor Alexander set out on 
 his return to Russia, and shortly afterwards Madame 
 de Krudener left Paris for Switzerland, whence she wrote 
 the following characteristic letter to Madame Recamier : 
 
 1 Due de Broglic's Souvenirs, i. 286. 
 
 2 Introduction to Benjamin Constant's Journal Intime, p. 56. 
 
 164
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 Madame de Krudener to Madame R£camier. 
 
 "Berne, November 12, 181 5. 
 
 " How I long to have news of you, dear and lovely 
 friend, and how interested I am in you and your happi- 
 ness, which will not be assured until you give yourself up 
 wholly to God. This is what I ask of Him when, pros- 
 trated before the God of mercy, I invoke Him on your 
 behalf. He has touched your heart ; and that heart, 
 which all the illusions and all the good things of the 
 world have not been able to satisfy, has heard the call. 
 No ; you will not hesitate, dear friend. The trials which 
 you often experience, the hollowness of the world, and 
 the need of something great, infinite, and eternal which 
 from time to time alarms and agitates you, all tell 
 me that you will declare yourself altogether on the right 
 side. I beseech you to be true to those great impulses 
 which you are experiencing, and not to allow yourself to 
 be diverted from them. An agonising grief would be the 
 result of this lapse from grace. Ask at the feet of Christ 
 for the faith of divine love ; ask, and you shall receive, 
 and a holy fear will inform you how great is the life, and 
 how infinite the love of the Saviour, who died to save us 
 from the just punishment for sin, which every one of us 
 has deserved. Ah ! if one could but look upon our God, 
 who made Himself man in order to die for us — if we 
 could look upon Him with broken heart, and weep at 
 the foot of the Cross for not having loved Him. Far 
 from rejecting us, His arms will open to receive us ; He 
 will pardon us, and we shall know that peace which the 
 world cannot give. 
 
 "What is that poor Benjamin 1 doing? On leaving 
 
 1 Benjamin Constant. 
 .65
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 Paris I wrote him again a few lines, and sent him some 
 messages for you, dear friend. Did you not receive them ? 
 How is he getting on ? You must be very charitable to 
 a sick man much to be pitied, and you must pray for him. 
 Our journey has been a pleasant one, thank God 1 
 Switzerland rests me ; it is so lovely, and so tranquil in 
 the midst of this distracted Europe. I have the happiness 
 of having my son 1 at Berne, and we make the most 
 delightful expeditions, and have the most affectionate 
 talks together, for we love each other dearly. ... I do 
 not despair of seeing you among the Alps, which are 
 worth all the salons in the world. 
 
 " Write to me at Basle, dear friend ; direct your letter 
 to me, care of M. Kellner. Tell me everything, putting 
 your trust in my tender affection. Have you seen 
 M. Delbel? 2 He is a most excellent man. I am very 
 anxious Benjamin 3 should see him. 
 
 " Kind regards from my daughter and myself, 
 
 " B. de Krudener. 
 
 " Once more, dear friend, I commend our poor Benja- 
 min to your kind heart. It is a sacred duty." 
 
 Poor Madame de Krudener's last years were clouded 
 with disappointment. Her religious activity was by no 
 means favourable to established church order, while the 
 civil authorities of the various countries which she visited 
 were, not unnaturally, prejudiced against her by the vast 
 crowds of idle and clamorous beggars which her indis- 
 criminate charity drew after her wherever she went. After 
 being directed to withdraw from one German state after 
 
 1 Baron de Krtidener, Russian Minister to the Swiss Confederation. 
 8 Cure of CKchy. 3 Benjamin Constant. 
 
 l66
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 another, she became discouraged, and, in 1818, finally 
 retired into private life on her estates at Riga. 
 
 In 1820 she visited St. Petersburg, where she had the 
 mortification to find that her influence with the Czar had 
 not survived their five years separation. The cruel and 
 crafty Arakchei'efT and the monk Photius had, in the 
 interim, supplanted her in Alexander's esteem, and suc- 
 ceeded in inducing that generous-hearted but vacillating 
 sovereign to reverse both his political and religious policy. 
 The consequence was that when Madame de Krudener 
 appealed openly to her former disciple to fulfil his obliga- 
 tions as a Christian monarch, and assist in liberating his 
 co-religionists in Greece from the intolerable Moslem 
 yoke, she was commanded to remain silent or leave St. 
 Petersburg. She chose the latter alternative, and on 
 Christmas morning, 1824, died at Karasu-Baza, in the 
 Crimea, whither she had gone to recruit her health, which 
 had been entirely shattered by the arduous nature of her 
 evangelistic labours. Less than a year later the Emperor 
 Alexander followed her to the grave. 
 
 Madame de Stael, unlike the majority of Madame 
 Recamier's friends, had not returned to the capital after 
 the battle of Waterloo had settled once and for all the 
 fate of their old enemy. She had spent the winter and 
 spring of 18 15-16 in Italy, in the hope that the mild 
 climate might be beneficial to her young husband Rocca, 
 whose health had been gradually becoming worse ; but at 
 length, in the autumn of 18 16, she reappeared in Paris, 
 where her salon was soon crowded with representative men 
 of all parties, and the most distinguished foreigners who 
 were then in the city. " Madame de Stael had," says one 
 of her guests, " the rare talent, perhaps, never possessed by 
 
 167
 
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 any other person of uniting around her the most distin- 
 guished individuals of all the opposite parties, literary and 
 political, and making them establish relations among 
 themselves which they could not afterwards entirely shake 
 off. There might be found Wellington and Lafayette ; 
 Chateaubriand, Talleyrand, and Prince Laval ; Humboldt 
 and Blucher from Berlin ; Constant and Sismondi from 
 Switzerland ; the two Schlegels from Hanover ; Canova 
 from Italy ; the beautiful Madame Ricamier, and the 
 admirable Duchesse de Duras ; and from England, such a 
 multitude, that it seemed like a general emigration of 
 British talent and rank." 1 
 
 But, alas ! it soon became apparent to her sorrowing 
 friends that the days of the authoress of Corinne were 
 numbered. Madame de StaeTs health had been greatly 
 weakened by her flight from Coppet to Russia, immedi- 
 ately after the birth of the child of her second marriage ; 
 and the alarm and fatigue which her sudden journey to 
 Switzerland to escape the returning Emperor occasioned, 
 had completely shattered it. Little by little her health 
 became worse, and at length she was compelled to keep 
 her bed. 
 
 Still her faculties remained unimpaired. Every morn- 
 ing, as soon as she woke, her maid brought her her writing 
 materials, and she wrote in bed till noon ; and afterwards 
 received the visits of her most intimate friends. Her 
 daughter, the Duchesse de Broglie, by her express wish, 
 received in her place the usual company, and would often 
 slip up to the sick-room to report any bon-mot or especially 
 interesting piece of news which she had heard during the 
 evening. 
 
 The gay world of Paris showed no lack of sympathy 
 
 1 Child's " Madame de Stael," p. 71. 
 168
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 with the suffering of its most distinguished representative. 
 Her house was besieged with callers. Members of the 
 Royal family made daily inquiries after her health, and 
 Wellington came himself every day to ask how she fared. 
 She was to the last full of sympathy for fellow sufferers, 
 and the day after her death a condemned man named 
 Barry, for whom she had made intercession, was pardoned 
 by the King. She expired without pain at five o'clock 
 on the morning of July 14, 18 17, at the age of fifty-one. 
 Her young husband, Rocca, survived her but six months. 
 His bereavement greatly aggravated his malady : after the 
 funeral he went to the Riviera to endeavour to find 
 relief, and died at Hyeres in the following January. 
 
 169
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 Madame Rccamier's meeting with Chateaubriand — His early 
 life — His visit to America — His marriage — He joins the emigres 
 — He is wounded and escapes to England — His terrible priva- 
 tions — His love affair with Miss Ives — His Essai sur les 
 Revolutions — He returns to France — Atala — Le Genie du 
 Christianisme — Great influence of this work — He is sent as 
 attache to Rome — And as envoy to the Valais — He resigns and 
 opposes Napoleon — Napoleon's opinion of him — He goes to 
 the East — His Itin'eraire and Les Martyrs — Rene — He is 
 elected to the Institute — His address — Fury of the Emperor 
 against him — He is ordered to leave Paris — His pamphlet 
 De Bonaparte et des Bourbons — Its extraordinary influence on 
 the course of events — He accompanies Louis XVIII. to Ghent 
 during the Hundred Days — He listens to the cannon of 
 Waterloo — His opposition to the Government after the Second 
 Restoration — His personal appearance — His attraction for 
 women — His admiration for Madame Recamier reciprocated 
 — Ballanche and Mathieu de Montmorency oppose their 
 intimacy — But without success 
 
 It was at the deathbed of Madame de Stael that Madame 
 Recamier renewed an acquaintance, made some years before, 
 with a person who was destined to more than fill the place 
 of the beloved friend she was about to lose. 
 
 Francois Rene de Chateaubriand was born at St. Malo 
 on September 4, 1768 — just three weeks after the birth of 
 Napoleon — the youngest son of Comte Ren£ de Chateau- 
 briand, the head of one of the most ancient families in 
 
 170
 
 MIADAME RECAMIER 
 
 Brittany. Even as a boy, he was of a restless, dreamy, 
 melancholy disposition, a temperament which he seems to 
 have inherited from his father — whose habitual state of 
 mind, he tells us, was one of profound sadness — and which 
 was doubtless intensified by his picturesque surroundings, 
 and the quaint legends and superstitions of the Breton 
 country-folk among whom his childhood was passed. 
 
 He was educated at Dol, Rennes, and at a theological 
 seminary at Dinan, and seems to have at one time enter- 
 tained some idea of entering the priesthood. But he soon 
 abandoned this intention, and, at the age of nineteen, 
 accepted an offer of a commission in the Navarre regiment. 
 A military life, however, was but little to his taste, and, 
 in 179 1, he sailed for America, with the object of obtain- 
 ing immortality by the discovery of the North-west 
 Passage. 
 
 The Passage was neither found nor, for the matter of 
 that, even attempted ; but his brief sojourn in the New 
 World was by no means barren of result, as it was there 
 that he found his true vocation and the materials for Atala 
 and Rene. 
 
 On his return to France he discovered that his mother 
 and sister had considerately arranged a marriage for him 
 with a certain Mademoiselle de Lavigne, a young lady of 
 some fortune, a plan to which Chateaubriand consented 
 readily enough, although he had only seen his intended 
 bride on two or three occasions, and was quite indifferent 
 to her. " I felt no qualification for the position of a hus- 
 band," he says in a characteristic passage in his Memoires 
 d' Outre I'ombe. " Lucile [his sister] was fond of Made- 
 moiselle de Lavigne, and saw in this marriage a means of 
 securing my independence. * So be it,* said I. In my case 
 the public man is immovable ; the private individual is at 
 
 171
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 the mercy of any one who wishes to influence him, and, 
 to avoid an hour's bickering, I would enslave myself for a 
 century." ' 
 
 The marriage, although quite devoid of affection on the 
 husband's side, was not an unhappy one. For many years, 
 however, the author and his wife were content to live 
 apart; but when, in 1804, Madame de Chateaubriand 
 suffered a reverse of fortune, her husband behaved in a 
 very honourable manner, and sent for her to share his 
 home. Chateaubriand appears to have always respected 
 the many good qualities of his wife, and graciously per- 
 mitted her to worship him, which was all she asked. 
 " Madame de Chateaubriand," he says, " admires me 
 without having read two lines of my works ; she would 
 fear to meet in them with ideas differing from her own, 
 or to discover that the rest of the world is not enthusiastic 
 enough in its estimation of me." 
 
 After the execution of Louis XVI. in January, 1793, 
 Chateaubriand, who, like all the Breton aristocracy, was a 
 fervent Royalist, joined the ranks of the emigres, and took 
 part in the Duke of Brunswick's invasion of France. 
 After the failure of that expedition, in which he was 
 wounded at the siege of Thionville, he made his escape 
 to England. Here his small stock of money was soon 
 exhausted, and he and a fellow exile named Hingant, 
 who shared his garret, found themselves on the verge of 
 starvation. 
 
 " We reduced our rations," he says, " as is done in a 
 ship when the voyage is expected to be a very long one. 
 At our breakfast we saved half our bread, and dispensed 
 altogether with butter. . . . When we came to our last 
 shilling I arranged with my friend to keep it, in order to 
 
 1 Chateaubriand's Memoire.s d 'Outre Tombe, ii. 350. 
 
 172
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 make a show of breakfasting. We agreed that we would 
 buy a twopenny loaf ; that we should have the breakfast- 
 things laid as usual, the hot water brought up, and the 
 tea-caddy set on the table ; that we would not put in any 
 tea or eat any bread, but merely drink some water 
 flavoured with a few crumbs of sugar which remained at 
 the bottom of the basin. 
 
 " In this way five days passed. I was devoured by 
 hunger — felt on fire — and sleep had forsaken me. I used 
 to suck pieces of linen dipped in water, and to chew grass 
 and paper. On passing by a baker's shop the torment 
 was horrible. On a bitter winter's evening I have 
 remained for as long as two hours standing before a 
 grocer's shop or Italian warehouse, devouring with my 
 eyes everything I saw. I would have eaten not only the 
 eatables, but the boxes, bags or baskets which contained 
 them." 1 
 
 At length their friends sent them a little money, and 
 Chateaubriand removed to Beccles, in Suffolk, where he 
 maintained himself by giving French lessons to the sons 
 and daughters of the neighbouring gentry. One of his 
 pupils, a Miss Charlotte Ives, daughter of the rector of 
 Bungay, unaware that there was already a Madame de 
 Chateaubriand, quite lost her heart to the handsome 
 Breton. Chateaubriand, to whom admiration was as the 
 breath of life, cruelly forbore to undeceive her ; and it 
 was not until the lady's mother offered the young emigre, 
 whose poverty she thought made him too timid to come 
 forward, her daughter's hand and a home under their 
 own roof, that he confessed that he was not free to love. 
 
 Twenty-seven years afterwards, when Chateaubriand 
 returned to England as French ambassador, Charlotte Ives, 
 
 1 Memoires d' Outre Tombe, iii. 168. 
 173
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 who had in the interval become the wife of Admiral 
 Sutton, and the mother of two fine boys, but in whose 
 heart time had not effaced the memory of her first love — > 
 a fact which Chateaubriand, with rather questionable taste, 
 expatiates upon in his Memoires — called upon him to solicit 
 his influence to obtain for her eldest son an appointment 
 upon the staff of the Viceroy of India. His application was 
 successful, and he was thus able to make the poor lady 
 some reparation for the injury he had done her. 
 
 In 1797 Chateaubriand published his first work, an 
 Essai sur les Revolutions, which was favourably received, 
 and in 1800, his name having been struck off the list of 
 emigres, he returned to France. Atala, a love-story of 
 savage life, the scene of which is laid in the American 
 forests and prairies, appeared in the following year, and 
 established the reputation of its author 1 — a reputation 
 which was enormously enhanced by the publication, three 
 years later, of his famous treatise Le Gdnie du Christianisme, 
 which may almost be said to have paved the way for the 
 re-establishment of the Roman Catholic religion in France. 
 
 This masterpiece of literary art, which originally in- 
 cluded both Atala and Rene, though these stories were 
 subsequently detached, appearing as it did at a time of 
 widespread reaction against the blasphemous buffooneries 
 of the Revolution, met with extraordinary success. It 
 must be admitted, however, that its merit lies rather in 
 the brilliancy of its descriptive passages than in the cogency 
 of its reasoning, for Chateaubriand was never either a 
 particularly sound thinker or a particularly able contro- 
 versialist. 
 
 Bonaparte, whose conciliatory policy towards the Papacy 
 
 1 Atala has been translated into six European languages — English, 
 German, Greek, Russian, Spanish, and Swedish. 
 
 17+
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 the opportune publication of Chateaubriand's book had 
 done much to facilitate, rewarded the author by appointing 
 him attache at Rome, where he wrote his Lettres sur ritaiie, 
 and quarrelled so much with the ambassador, Cardinal 
 Fesch, that in a few months he was recalled, and sent as 
 envoy to the little republic of the Valais. 
 
 While on this mission all Europe was horrified at the 
 murder of the poor young Due d'Enghien. Chateaubriand, 
 feeling that he could no longer with honour hold any 
 office under a Government which could perpetrate such 
 atrocities, immediately resigned his post, and eventually 
 became as formidable an opponent of Napoleon in the 
 sphere of ideas as Wellington and Metternich were in that 
 of action. 
 
 Several of Chateaubriand's contemporaries have asserted 
 that, had Napoleon shown more disposition to acknowledge 
 the great writer's merits, he might have won him over 
 at any time, for Chateaubriand would not have been 
 indifferent to praise from such a quarter ; and Madame 
 de Remusat tells us that the Emperor said on more than 
 one occasion, " The difficulty would not be to buy M. de 
 Chateaubriand, but to give him his price." 1 If Napoleon 
 really did say this, and, as Madame de Remusat is generally 
 a veracious chronicler, there is no reason to think other- 
 wise, it shows a complete failure to understand the charac- 
 ter of the author of Atala very unusual in so shrewd a 
 judge of human nature as Napoleon; for in spite of his 
 egotism, his vanity, and his affectation, in spite of the 
 inconsistency of his political conduct under Louis XVIII. 
 and Charles X. — inconsistency due in great part to his 
 unsuccessful attempts to reconcile Legitimacy and Liberty 
 — Chateaubriand was a high-minded and honourable man, 
 1 Memoires de Madame de Remusat, ii. 391. 
 175
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 and no consideration whatever would have induced him to 
 support a sovereign who, to borrow his own words, had 
 not scrupled to use the bleeding corpse of a Frenchman as 
 a footstool to ascend the throne of France. 
 
 In 1 806 Chateaubriand set out on a tour in the East, 
 visiting Greece, Palestine, and Egypt in quest of fresh 
 material for his work. The result of this journey was his 
 delightful Itineraire de Paris a Jerusalem, and Les Martyrs, 
 a prose epic, of which the action passes in the days of 
 Diocletian. The professed object of this latter work was 
 to demonstrate the superiority of Christian over Pagan 
 forms of worship : and although in this respect it was 
 only partially successful, chiefly because the author falls 
 into the error common to most writers who deal with the 
 early Christian era — that of making the Pagans the most 
 interesting characters — the genuine pathos which surrounds 
 the character of the ill-fated druidess Velleda, and the 
 eloquence with which the glories of the ancient world are 
 delineated, must ever suffice to give it a place among the 
 masterpieces of French literature. 
 
 Two years before, his most characteristic production, 
 Rene, had appeared, which, like Madame de Krudener's 
 Valerie and Madame de StaeTs Corinne, contains a fairly 
 accurate portrait of its author. " It paints with wonderful 
 mastery," says an English critic, "the misery of a morbid, 
 dissatisfied soul, the type of a character blighted by over- 
 sensitiveness on the one hand, and an egotism, thinly 
 veiled by poetical sentiment, on the other. Renews morbid 
 despondency is but the too faithful portrait of the desola- 
 tion begotten in his own mind by the unnatural alliance 
 between opulence of imagination and poverty of heart." 1 
 
 In February 1 8 1 1 , on the death of Joseph de Chenier, 
 
 1 " Encyclopedia Britannica," v. 437. 
 176
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 Chateaubriand's friends proposed to nominate him for the 
 vacant seat in the Institute. Chateaubriand was at first 
 unwilling to join what he termed a "den of philosophers" ; 
 but eventually he consented to become a candidate, and 
 was duly elected. When the time for the admission of the 
 new member arrived, it was found that in his address, 
 copies of which were being circulated in Paris, he had 
 vehemently denounced the execution of Louis XVI., and 
 called for vengeance upon the regicides, several of whom, 
 like Cambaceres and Merlin de Douay, occupied positions 
 of the highest importance in the service of the State ; and 
 had extolled liberty, which, he declared, found refuge among 
 men of letters when banished from the body politic. 
 
 The Institute, fearful of the consequences which might 
 follow so much boldness on the part of its latest recruit, 
 appointed a commission to examine the discourse and 
 report upon it. The commission decided that it must be 
 revised. The Emperor, however, hearing of what had 
 passed, demanded that the address should be submitted 
 to him. 
 
 Daru, himself an author and critic, was deputed to take 
 the manuscript to the Emperor, who received him alone. 
 Napoleon, it appears, had already a grievance against 
 Chateaubriand, who had recently published an article in the 
 Mercure, in which he had compared the Emperor to Nero 
 and himself to Tacitus. On receiving this fresh proof of 
 the author's hostility, Napoleon flew into a terrible passion. 
 " Had this discourse been delivered," he exclaimed, " I 
 would have closed the gates of the Institute, and thrown 
 M. de Chateaubriand into a dungeon for life." 
 
 His furious apostrophes of the absent Chateaubriand 
 were overheard in the antechamber, and believed to be 
 addressed to Daru. The consequence was that when poor 
 
 177 M
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 Daru reappeared, he found himself, to his astonishment, 
 shunned by the very courtiers who had, on his entry, 
 greeted him most warmly. As for the real object of the 
 Imperial wrath, he was ordered to leave Paris at once, nor 
 did he return to the capital until after the abdication of 
 Napoleon. 
 
 In March 1814, at the moment when the fate of the 
 Empire was trembling in the balance, Chateaubriand pub- 
 lished his pamphlet De Bonaparte etdes Bourbons, a scathing 
 indictment of Napoleonic ambition, which Louis XVIII. 
 once declared to have been worth a hundred thousand men 
 to the Legitimist cause. 
 
 After the Restoration Chateaubriand was made a peer, 
 under the title of Vicomte de Chateaubriand, and a 
 Minister of State. But he was far too original a character 
 to commend himself to the old-fashioned king ; indeed, 
 the two men appear to have been naturally antagonistic — an 
 antagonism which Chateaubriand described as the dislike 
 of the classical for the romantic. Nevertheless, he accom- 
 panied the Court to Ghent during the Hundred Days, 
 and did his best to counteract the influence of the favourite 
 Blacas and the other reactionaries by whom Louis was 
 surrounded. 
 
 In his Memoir es he describes how, one Sunday afternoon 
 in June, during his stay at Ghent, he was strolling along 
 the high road which led to Brussels, reading Cassar's 
 Commentaries, when his attention was aroused by a noise 
 like the rumbling of distant thunder. He looked up, 
 and, observing that the sky was somewhat overcast, con- 
 cluded that a storm was approaching. Presently the 
 sound was repeated, and he noticed that the detonations 
 were neither so loud nor so regular as those of thunder, 
 and began to wonder what they could be. He learned 
 
 178
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 afterwards that the noise which had puzzled him was the 
 distant echo of the cannon at Waterloo. 
 
 When Napoleon was once more caged, this time for 
 good and all, Chateaubriand returned to Paris, and for a 
 time associated himself with the violence of the Royalist 
 reaction. But he soon became thoroughly disgusted with 
 the set of intriguers who had assumed the direction of 
 affairs, and his brochure, Monarchic selon la Charte — a 
 sweeping exposure of the unconstitutional acts of the 
 Government — exasperated the king so much that, in 18 16, 
 his name was struck off the list of Ministers of State, and 
 the pension attached to his post taken from him. 
 
 At the time of his meeting: with Madame Recamier, 
 Chateaubriand was forty-eight, and still as handsome as 
 ever. "He was of middle height," says Lescure, "a 
 little high-shouldered : all his vitality and masculine 
 energy seemed to be centred in the head, which was superb 
 and full of fascination. He had a broad forehead, with 
 black, curling hair, and eyes that had a profound ex- 
 pression, like the sea whose colour they matched ; and 
 when he wished to please, he had a smile at once cap- 
 tivating and irresistible, such as Count Mole said he had 
 seen only in Bonaparte and Chateaubriand." 
 
 For years he had been the spoiled darling of the salons. 
 Men, while acknowledging his brilliant talents, found his 
 vanity and egotism difficult to bear ; but the ladies of the 
 Faubourg St. Germain were quite willing to take him at 
 his own valuation, which was an exalted one, and it was 
 to them that Chateaubriand was wont to turn for conso- 
 lation in his constantly recurring fits of depression, for he 
 always aspired to more than he gained, and was dissatisfied 
 even with his own aspirations. 
 
 Chateaubriand seems to have at once conceived a 
 
 179
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 profound admiration and devotion for Madame Rdcamier, 
 and her gentle influence dominated the remainder of his 
 life. She, on her part, found herself irresistibly drawn 
 towards this brilliant man, with his romantic past, his 
 beautiful, intellectual face, and his fine courtly manners, 
 whose respectful admiration was so refreshing a contrast 
 to the rhapsodies of poor Benjamin Constant, and the 
 intense weariness of life which he affected only proved 
 an additional attraction in her eyes. Henceforth it is 
 Chateaubriand who occupies the foremost place in her 
 affections, and those faithful friends Mathieu de Mont- 
 morency and Simon Ballanche are relegated to secondary 
 positions, for the author of Atala> like the Turk, suffered 
 no brother near the throne. 
 
 " Chateaubriand's friendship with Madame Recamier," 
 says a contemporary writer, " was, as he confesses it, a relief 
 to his spirits. She seems to have understood this 
 melancholy man more than the world did. She cheered 
 him, not, perhaps, entering so much into his feelings, as 
 flattering imperceptibly his vanity, which was naturally 
 soothed by a beautiful woman, who had been such a star 
 in the world of society. Often, indeed, the recluse, the 
 bitter philosopher, verging on misanthropy, is drawn back 
 to the world, at least to humanity, by the delicate allure- 
 ments of a mere flirt. Madame Recamier was little more. 
 She was not a woman of profound mind. Her com- 
 panionship with thinkers like Ballanche or Chateaubriand 
 was not spiritual, or metaphysical, or philosophical, or 
 speculative ; such men did not want such companionship. 
 They had run into superhumanity (if the term be per- 
 mitted), and they wanted more humanity. They found it 
 in its pleasantest, least offensive, most attractive form in 
 this amiable, agreeable, pretty woman, who had lived to 
 
 1 80
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 enjoy life, and enjoyed it, and even prized it still. Madame 
 Recamier won back these morbid thinkers by the strength 
 of her very reality. She was their medium between a 
 world " d' outre tombe" and a living world, to which they 
 felt, or professed such hostility. Far from angelic, she 
 was a kind of angel to them, who was able to throw a 
 halo of common beauty over the world they detested. 
 The fact that she was a woman, still beautiful, still gay, 
 still full of life, gave her this power. In this respect a 
 woman however commonplace is more than a poet, and 
 Madame Recamier, though a flirt, was not common- 
 place." 1 
 
 It can readily be understood that neither Mathieu de 
 Montmorency nor Ballanche — who had, on the death of 
 his father, sold his printing business, and settled in Paris, 
 that he might be near his idol — were at all disposed to 
 allow the new favourite to usurp the place which they 
 had come to look upon as rightfully their own ; and one 
 cannot read without a smile the serious way in which both 
 the devot and the philosopher set to work to wean their 
 sovereign lady from, what they considered, her deplorable 
 weakness for the intruder. 
 
 Montmorency redoubled his pious efforts at conversion. 
 " I was greatly pained and shocked to-day," he writes, "at 
 such a sudden change in your manner towards myself and 
 others. Ah ! madame, what rapid progress has this evil — 
 which your most faithful friends have dreaded for your sake 
 — made in the course of a few weeks ! Ah ! turn — there 
 is always time — to Him who gives strength, when the 
 desire to obtain it is sincere, to cure all and repair all. 
 God and a valiant heart are all-sufficient. I pray from the 
 depths of my heart, and with all the strength which the 
 
 1 Wharton's "Queens of Society," ii. 35. 
 181
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 ardour of my wishes gives me, that you may be sustained 
 and enlightened, and that by His powerful aid you may 
 be prevented from weaving with your own hands a chain 
 of misery, from which those who love you will suffer as 
 well as yourself." 
 
 The philosophic Ballanche devised a more singular cure 
 for Madame Recamier's infatuation : he recommended her 
 to divert her thoughts by translating Petrarch. " You 
 are a complete poem ; you are the Muse herself,'* he 
 writes. " You are an angel that has lost its way in 
 coming to a world of turmoil and falsehood. . . . The 
 work that I want you to do for Petrarch has been done for 
 Dante ; but no one has dared to wrestle with the difficulties 
 of the former. This work would do you infinite honour. 
 I go further : I want you to write the introduction. I 
 shall reserve for myself only the editing, which, modest as 
 it is, will bring me great credit, without even mentioning 
 the glory that will be reflected upon me from my associa- 
 tion with you. No, you do not know yourself ; no one 
 knows the extent of his powers until he has tested them. 
 . . . Your domain lies in the realm of delicate senti- 
 ment ; but, believe me, you have under your command 
 the genius of music, flowers, imagination, and elegance. 
 Privileged creature, take courage : lift your charming head, 
 and do not fear to try your hand on the golden lyre of the 
 poets ! " 
 
 Jealousy, a passion from which neither devotees nor 
 philosophers are wholly exempt, no doubt had something 
 to do with the opposition shown by Montmorency and 
 Ballanche to Madame Recamier's growing intimacy with 
 Chateaubriand ; but it would appear to have been princi- 
 pally due to disinterested motives. According to Madame 
 Lenormant, these two faithful friends dreaded that Madame 
 
 18*
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 R6camier's peaceful life would be disturbed by contact with 
 a person of so capricious and fitful a nature, to whom the 
 greatest success failed to bring contentment, and who was 
 subject to continual fits of morbid depression. 
 
 But, whatever their motives may have been, their efforts 
 were futile. Neither devotion nor Petrarch — of which 
 Madame Recamier did actually translate a small portion — 
 sufficed to bring about the desired cure. Day by day saw 
 her more irresistibly fettered by the influence of the 
 conqueror ; and at length Montmorency and Ballanche 
 reluctantly abandoned the struggle and resigned themselves 
 to the inevitable. 
 
 .«<!
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 Jacques Recamier sustains fresh losses — Madame Recamier 
 determines to retire to the Abbaye-au-Bois — Chateaubriand's 
 description of her " cell " there — The Abbaye-au-Bois becomes 
 the fashion — Chateaubriand the chief personage in Madame 
 Recamier's circle — His character and habits — Madame Re- 
 camier's devotion to him — Assassination of the Due de Berri 
 and fall of Decazes — Chateaubriand goes as Minister to Berlin 
 — His letters to Madame Recamier — He returns to Paris, and 
 is sent as Ambassador to London — The Carbonari — Their 
 organisation and methods of communication — Risings in 
 different parts of France — Coudert and Sirejean — Madame 
 Recamier obtains the pardon of Coudert — Her efforts on 
 behalf of Sirejean — His fate 
 
 In i 8 19 Jacques Recamier suffered fresh losses, and this 
 time his wife's own little fortune, which she had generously 
 but imprudently hazarded in his speculations, was involved 
 to the extent of one hundred thousand francs. A few 
 months previously, Madame Recamier had bought a house 
 in the Rue d'Anjou, where she had established herself with 
 her husband, her father, her little niece, and old Simonard, 
 who was always looked upon as one of the family. She 
 now, however, determined to break up her establishment, 
 separate from her husband, and retire to the Abbaye- 
 au-Bois in the Rue de Sevres. Her husband, M. 
 Bernard, and his inseparable companion Simonard could 
 share a lodging in the neighbourhood, could dine with 
 
 184
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 her every day, and spend the evening in her company. 
 By this means the expenses of the liberal hospitality to 
 which they had always been accustomed would be avoided, 
 and she would be able to live alone without the appearance 
 of disagreement with her husband, as no men were per- 
 mitted to reside even in the exterior of the convent. 
 
 Her resolve met with the decided approbation of her 
 friends, for the world, usually so censorious, especially 
 where a pretty woman is concerned, was invariably just 
 to Madame Recamier ; and she had the satisfaction of 
 knowing that her motives in thus withdrawing from 
 society were understood and appreciated. 
 
 The Abbaye-au-Bois, one of the few convents which 
 had the good fortune to escape the Revolution, lies, with 
 its small garden, a little way back from the street, in the 
 Rue de Sevres, in the middle of the fashionable Faubourg 
 St. Germain. A lofty iron gate, surmounted by a cross 
 of the same metal, gives admission to a quadrangle, on 
 one side of which is the chapel. Several staircases ascend 
 from this yard, leading to apartments rented to ladies 
 who wished to retire into an interesting semi-obscurity. 
 Many famous leaders of society had sought, at one time 
 or another, the shelter of the Abbaye, Madame de 
 Vintimille, the mistress of Louis XV., among the number. 
 
 The only suite of rooms vacant at that time in the 
 Abbaye was situated on the third floor, under the lofty 
 old-fashioned roof of the building. It was a small apart- 
 ment, crooked in shape, paved with tiles, and altogether 
 uninviting. The stairs leading to it were very steep and 
 difficult of ascent, a somewhat serious drawback for visitors 
 advanced in years. 1 Madame R6camier, however, having 
 
 1 Maria Edgeworth, in a letter to her sister, says that there were 
 $eventy-eight steps, and " every one came in with the asthma." 
 
 185
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 on©e made up her mind, was not one to draw back, in 
 spite of the comfortless appearance of her surroundings. 
 She settled the three old men whose good angel she was 
 in a lodging close at hand, and installed herself in the 
 room which every one else had found uninhabitable* 
 Chateaubriand has described in his most poetical language 
 the " cellule " of his beloved recluse : 
 
 " The chamber," he says, " was furnished with a book- 
 case, a harp, a piano, a portrait of Madame de Stael, and 
 a view of Coppet by moonlight. On the window-sills 
 were pots of flowers. When, quite out of breath with 
 having climbed three flights of stairs, I entered the cell 
 just as twilight was falling, I was enchanted. The 
 windows overlooked the garden of the Abbaye, under the 
 verdant shade of which the nuns paced up and down, and 
 the pupils played. The top of an acacia was on a level 
 with the eye, sharp spires pierced the sky, and in the 
 distance rose the hills of Sevres. The rays of the setting 
 sun shed a golden light over the landscape, and streamed 
 in through the open windows. Here I found silence and 
 solitude, far above the noise and turmoil of a great city." 
 
 In 1 8 19 the Abbaye-au-Bois was so little known, at 
 least to the fashionable world, that Madame Moreau, 
 when she paid her first visit to Madame Recamier, took 
 the precaution of ordering her dinner an hour later than 
 the usual time, in order to make the journey to a place 
 so remote. In a few days, however, all the world had 
 found out the way, and ere long it became the fashion 
 to be admitted to what Chateaubriand called the " cell " 
 at the Abbaye. 
 
 But if the gay world came to her and was made welcome, 
 Madame Recamier resolutely refused to return its visits. 
 She paid an occasional visit to the theatre to see Talma in. 
 
 tH
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 seme new role, and was present at Madame Rachel's 
 dibut, but, as a general rule, she never went out except in 
 the morning. Dinner found all her family assembled 
 round her just as in former days, and to the domestic 
 circle was frequently added one or other of her most 
 intimate friends. Mathieu de Montmorency came every 
 night, always late, because his duties as Chevalier 
 (T Honneur to the Duchess d'Angouleme required his 
 attendance until she retired to rest. At first there was 
 some little difficulty about his being admitted, as the rule 
 of the convent was that the outer gate should be closed 
 at eleven o'clock ; but Madame Recamier eventually per- 
 suaded the Superieure to allow it to remain open until 
 midnight, and until Montmorency's death these evening 
 visits were never interrupted. 
 
 At the end of six months Madame Recamier moved to 
 a more commodious suite of rooms on the first floor of 
 the Abbaye, where she was far more comfortable, and able 
 to extend her modest hospitality to a much larger circle 
 of friends. Hither came her old friends Simonard, Adrien 
 and Mathieu de Montmorency, Ballanche, and Madame 
 Moreau; distinguished foreigners like Elizabeth, Duchess 
 of Devonshire, her brother, the Earl of Bristol, Sir 
 Humphry and Lady Davy, Mary Berry, Maria Edge- 
 worth, and Alexander von Humboldt ; and literary men 
 and politicians of every school and shade of opinion — 
 Chateaubriand, Benjamin Constant, Lamartine, Dubois 
 (of the Globe), Baron Pasquier, and Auguste Perier ; and, 
 later, Villemain, Montalembert, Tocqueville, Guizot, 
 Thierry, Sainte-Beuve, and Prosper Merimee. Here 
 Lamartine's Meditations were read and admired before 
 they were given to the public. Here Delphine Gay, as a 
 
 young girl, recited a poem of her own, which was aftcr- 
 
 l£ 7
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 wards crowned by the Academy ; and Jean- Jacques 
 Ampere, the son of the famous geometrician, was intro- 
 duced to Parisian society. Here also Mary Berry, " no 
 longer young, but still beautiful and spirituelle " — as 
 one of the habitues describes her — made a ludicrous and 
 rather awkward mistake about the Queen of Sweden, to 
 whom, in ignorance of her identity, she related an amusing 
 anecdote, the heroine of which was the queen herself. 
 But by far the most important person in Madame 
 Recamier's circle of friends at the Abbaye was Chateau- 
 briand ; indeed, from the very beginning of his daily 
 visits he became the first object of her life. Strange as it 
 may seem in a man of so wayward and capricious a tem- 
 perament, Chateaubriand was as regular and methodical 
 in his daily habits as any bank clerk. Every morning he 
 wrote a note to Madame R6camier. Every afternoon, 
 precisely at three o'clock, he paid her a visit ; in fact, so 
 remarkable was his punctuality that he used to laugh and 
 say that people regulated their watches by him as he 
 passed. Although far from a shy man, he was singularly 
 reserved and exclusive. He detested nothing so much as 
 to find himself in a room full of strangers, and, accordingly, 
 Madame R6camier admitted no one at his " hour " with- 
 out his consent. All the mixed or casual company she 
 saw came in the evening when he was not there. The 
 change in her life was indeed an extraordinary one. Until 
 her meeting with Chateaubriand she had been the object 
 around which others revolved. It was now Chateaubriand 
 who was the centre of her little world ; but there can be 
 no doubt that she was far happier in the self-abnegation 
 now required of her than in the cold and glittering 
 supremacy she had formerly enjoyed. All her habits 
 were modified to suit his tastes ; all her interests were 
 
 [88
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 centred in him ; while his restless, melancholy nature 
 and the vicissitudes of his political career kept her in a 
 continual state of anxiety and perplexity. " It was the 
 one aim of her life," says Madame Lenormant," to appease 
 the irritability, soothe the susceptibilities, and remove the 
 annoyances of this noble, generous, but selfish nature, 
 spoiled by excessive adulation." 
 
 This beneficial mission was only accomplished at the 
 cost of Madame Recamier's peace of mind ; and, in this 
 respect, the fears of Mathieu de Montmorency and 
 Ballanche were but too well justified. Still, she had her 
 reward. As time went on, Chateaubriand became less 
 morbid, less supercilious, less egotistical, and altogether 
 more considerate for the feelings of those around him. 
 His admiration and respect for the woman who, by virtue 
 of the pure and unselfish affection she cherished for him, 
 was able to exercise so great an influence on his life was 
 boundless. " You have transformed my nature," he says 
 to her in one of his letters ; and he spoke the truth. 
 
 Soon after the beginning of Chateaubriand's intimacy 
 with Madame Recamier he asked permission to bring his 
 wife to call upon her. Madame de Chateaubriand was a 
 grande dame of the old school, with a manner which seemed 
 to imply that she was conferring a favour upon those 
 whom she condescended to address. She was noted for 
 her charity, and she and her husband had established a 
 sort of hospice, where twelve old men and the same number 
 of old women had found a shelter in their declining years. 
 Thomas Moore, who met her about this time, and who, 
 as a poet, may be presumed to have been a judge of 
 feminine beauty, says that she was still handsome, but 
 chronic ill-health had reduced her almost to a skeleton 
 and spoiled her temper, and she was, in consequence, far 
 
 189
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 from an easy person to live with. Fortunately for her 
 husband, however, she was quite devoid of jealousy, and 
 regarded his friendships with Madame de Duras, Madame 
 Recamier, and other ladies with perfect complacency. She 
 remained on cordial, though never very intimate terms 
 with Madame Recamier during the rest of her life. 
 
 The assassination of the Due de Berry, second son of 
 the Comte d'Artois, in 1820, was followed by the fall of 
 the Decazes Ministry, and Chateaubriand's friends, the 
 ultra-Royalists, came into power. Chateaubriand had 
 contributed too largely to the success of his party to be 
 passed over by them ; but the king's dislike to him was 
 so intense that it was impossible to give him a seat in the 
 new Cabinet. They, therefore, fell back upon the usual 
 expedient when dealing with a powerful and independent 
 politician whom it was necessary to propitiate, and offered 
 him the post of Minister at Berlin. Chateaubriand, how- 
 ever, declined to accept it unless his name was, at the 
 same time, reinstated on the list of Ministers of State, 
 from which it had been removed in 1 8 1 6. After some 
 demur on the part of the king, his request was granted, 
 and on New Year's Day, 1821, he left for the Prussian 
 capital. While there he kept up a regular correspondence 
 with his friend at the Abbaye-au-Bois. 
 
 Vicomte de Chateaubriand to Madame Recamier. 
 
 "January 20, 1 82 1. 
 
 " If it be true that no one is a prophet in his own 
 country, it is equally true that except in his own country 
 no one is properly appreciated. Doubtless they (the 
 Berliners) know who I am ; but the nature of the people 
 is cold ; what we call enthusiasm is unknown. They have 
 read my works ; admire them more or less ; look at me 
 
 190
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 for a moment with quiet curiosity, and have no desire to 
 talk with me, or to know me better. M. d'Alop^us l will 
 tell you the same thing. It is the simple truth ; and I 
 again assure you that this suits me in every way. There 
 is no society here beyond the great Carnival reunions, 
 which end at the beginning of Lent, after which every 
 one lives in the most complete retirement. No receptions 
 are given to the Diplomatic Corps, and I might be Racine 
 or Bossuet, and nobody would care. If I have been at all 
 warmly received, it has been by the royal family, who are 
 charming, and have overwhelmed me with kindness and 
 attention. At a grand fete at the English Minister's on 
 Tuesday, I had the honour of being chosen as a partner 
 by the Grand-Duchess Nicholas, the King's favourite 
 daughter, and her Royal Highness the Duchess of 
 Cumberland. 2 Yesterday I had a long conversation with 
 the Grand-Duke Nicholas. Now, here you have the whole 
 story of the honours which are being conferred upon me, 
 and of my way of life. Every day I take a solitary walk 
 in the park — a large wood at the gate of Berlin ; and when 
 there are no dinner-parties or reunions, I go to bed at nine 
 o'clock. I have no other resource, except conversation 
 with Hyacinth. 3 We discuss current literature. What 
 
 1 The Russian Minister to the Court of Berlin, whom Madame 
 Recamier had met at Aix the previous summer. 
 
 2 " The Duchess of Cumberland took, nearly every day, the same 
 walk as myself. Sometimes she was returning from a charitable visit to 
 the cottage of a poor widow of Spandau ; sometimes she would stop 
 and say to me, in a gracious manner, that she had hoped to meet me. 
 I visited her frequently. She often remarked to me that she would like 
 to confide to my care the little George, the prince whom, it was said, 
 his cousin Victoria wished to place by her side on the throne of 
 England." — Memoires d 'Outre Tombe, vii. 321. 
 
 8 Hyacinth Pilorge, his private secretary. 
 
 191
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 else can I tell you ? I am engaged upon my third diplo- 
 matic despatch. Try to find out, through Mathieu, 1 if it 
 gives satisfaction. My recall is certain in April ; but you 
 must press it. 
 
 "The four little lines were a complete success. They 
 could not possibly be detected, and the fire brought them 
 out as if by magic. You will see that all my predictions 
 will come to pass. I shall return in the spring, and you 
 will find me as devoted as ever." 
 
 "March 20, 1 82 1. 
 
 " You say that I do not tell you of my successes. Here 
 is one. A Moravian preacher gave a most pompous 
 eulogy of me last Sunday in the pulpit. What do you 
 think ? He contrasted me with Voltaire, who also lived 
 in this country : he to corrupt it, I to repair the evil he 
 had done. 
 
 11 1 have told you a hundred times that I read you 
 easily, in spite of your fine writing. Give yourself, there- 
 fore, no uneasiness on that score. You cannot imagine my 
 delight at hearing that you are again in your little cell. 
 Before two months are over I shall see you. This thought 
 gives me new life and courage." 
 
 Chateaubriand returned to France in the following 
 May. In the autumn a change of Ministers brought the 
 Royalists fully into power. Villele took the Treasury ; 
 Corbiere became Minister of the Interior ; Peyronnet 
 Minister of Justice ; and Mathieu de Montmorency 
 Minister for Foreign Affairs. Chateaubriand had looked 
 for the last post, and was naturally much chagrined at 
 being again passed over. He was, however, somewhat 
 
 1 Mathieu de Montmorency, then Minister for Foreign Affairs. 
 
 192
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 mollified at being offered the embassy in London ; and in 
 April 1822 returned to the city through whose streets, 
 thirty years before, he had trudged a penniless and starving 
 adventurer. 
 
 About 1820 the Carbonarism which had flourished for 
 some years in Italy began to take root in France, and 
 quickly received from that systematising genius so charac- 
 teristic of the French an organic character which it had 
 hitherto lacked. The Carbonari were divided into sections 
 called ventes y or circles, with a supreme vente, or directing 
 committee, presided over by the veteran Lafayette. The 
 deputies of twenty particular ventes composed a central 
 vente, the latter communicating through a deputy with the 
 high vente, which, in its turn, received orders from the 
 directing committee. These orders were communicated 
 with astonishing rapidity and secrecy. No Carbonaro knew 
 any but the members of his own vente, and written com- 
 munications were strictly prohibited. The conspirators 
 revealed themselves to one another by signs, passwords, 
 and sometimes by cards, divided in such a way as to fit to 
 other cards. Carbonarism made great progress, especially 
 among the middle classes — university students, journalists, 
 and subalterns in the army ; indeed, the army appears to 
 have been a perfect hotbed of conspiracy. 
 
 Fired by the example of their Spanish and Italian 
 brethren, efforts were made by the French Carbonari, in 
 1 82 1, to raise revolts at Belfort, La Rochelle, Saumur, 
 Thouars, and other towns. They were suppressed without 
 much difficulty, but not without revealing how widespread 
 was the movement, and the Government, accordingly, pro- 
 ceeded to mete out severe punishment to those of the 
 conspirators who had fallen into their hands, with the 
 object of striking dismay into the hearts of the rest. 
 
 193 K
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 Eleven young officers, stationed at Saumur, were tried by 
 court-martial at Tours, and three of them named Delon, 
 Coudert, and Sirejean, were condemned to death. Delon, 
 who appears to have been the instigator of the plot, saved 
 himself by flight, and it transpired that the other two had 
 been induced to join him by false representations, and in 
 complete ignorance of his real motives. Leave to appeal 
 was, accordingly, granted them, and, in the interval between 
 the two trials, their friends made great efforts on their 
 behalf. Coudert's brother, although quite unknown to 
 Madame Recamier, presented himself one day at the 
 Abbaye-au-Bois, and besought her to use her influence 
 on behalf of the unfortunate young officer. 
 
 Madame Recamier, always ready to assist those in 
 distress, willingly agreed, and exerted herself to such good 
 purpose that the revisional tribunal, doubtless acting upon 
 a hint from the Government, commuted the sentence of 
 death passed by the court-martial to one of five years' 
 imprisonment. 
 
 The success which had attended Madame Recamier's 
 efforts on behalf of Coudert encouraged the friends of 
 Sirejean to invoke her assistance in their turn. Sirejean, 
 it may be remarked, was by far the most to be pitied of 
 the two prisoners. He was barely twenty-one years of 
 age, and had, it seems, joined the Carbonari under the 
 impression that he was being initiated into a harmless 
 society akin to that of the Freemasons. He was a mem- 
 ber of a very respectable family at Chalons, where Madame 
 Recamier had spent the first few months of her exile, and 
 his aunt, Madame Chenet, called upon her with a letter of 
 introduction from the wife of the prefect of Marne. The 
 imprisoned youth himself wrote to Madame Recamier a 
 touching letter : 
 
 *Q4
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 *' Madame, — I am at a loss to find words to express 
 my sense of gratitude to you for the interest which you 
 have promised to exert on behalf of an unfortunate man, 
 who is only a stranger to you, and who has been guilty of 
 a crime which the confidence he reposed in the miserable 
 Delon caused him to look upon as a duty. My age, my 
 inexperience of the world, prevented me from perceiving 
 the trap that was laid for me ; and I have fallen into a 
 pit from which I shall never be able to extricate myself. 
 What consoles and assists me to bear my remorse is the 
 knowledge that there are hearts like yours, madame, who 
 know that my fault was an unconscious one, and who 
 believe that I am repentant. 
 
 "Sirejean. 
 
 " P.S. — The court will meet next Monday. 
 
 "The Prison, Tours, April 8." 
 
 Madame Recamier laboured indefatigably to save this 
 poor youth, who was so much more sinned against than 
 sinning, and to comfort his parents, who were so over- 
 whelmed by the terrible fate that threatened their son as 
 to be incapable themselves of taking the necessary steps 
 on his behalf. But the Government, in commuting 
 Coudert's sentence, seems to have reached the limit of its 
 clemency, and, doubtless, considered that to spare both 
 the youthful conspirators might savour of weakness. All 
 Madame Recamier's efforts were in vain, and, on April i8, 
 the re visional tribunal confirmed the death sentence. 
 
 The condemned man, however, wrote again to his 
 protectress a letter, the handwriting of which plainly re- 
 vealed the terrible agitation under which he was labouring. 
 He told her that his friends had decided to press for ? 
 
 *95
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 new trial, as the fugitive Delon had been captured, and 
 was to be tried at Poitiers, and it was confidently antici- 
 pated that his evidence would completely exonerate the 
 victim of his intrigues. He begged Madame Recamier 
 to exert her influence to obtain a respite. 
 
 She did so, and was gratified to hear that the War 
 Office had informed Sirejean's relatives that a respite had 
 been granted. Her horror and indignation, therefore, may 
 be imagined when she discovered that, in the face of this 
 promise, the poor youth had been shot at daybreak on 
 May 2. Sirejean met his fate with unflinching courage, 
 as became a soldier. 
 
 196
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 Chateaubriand in London — His reception there — His dislike 
 of English society — The Congress of Verona — Chateaubriand's 
 anxiety to represent France at the Congress — Mathieu de 
 Montmorency and Villele ignore his applications — He 
 appeals to Madame Recamier — And is nominated as one of 
 the French envoys — His real object in wishing to attend 
 the Congress — His duplicity — Mathieu de Montmorency 
 r.id Chateaubriand at Verona — Their letters to Madame 
 Recamier — Indiscretions of Montmorency and intrigues of 
 Chateaubriand — Montmorency returns to Paris — Villele and 
 the King refuse to ratify his action at the Congress — He 
 resigns, and Chateaubriand becomes Minister for Foreign 
 Affairs — Magnanimous conduct of Montmorency — His letter 
 to Madame Rdcamier — Chateaubriand declares himself in 
 favour of armed intervention in Spain — The French invade 
 Spain — Chateaubriand's letters to Madame Recamier — Ben- 
 jamin Constant prosecuted fox his publications — Madame 
 Recamier intercedes for him — Success of the French arms in 
 Spain — Triumph of Chateaubriand — Effects of popular adula- 
 tion upon him — Strained relations between him and Mont- 
 morency — Madame Recamier determines to leave Paris — And 
 sets out for Rome 
 
 While Madame Recamier was engaged in this work of 
 mercy her interest was being solicited by a very different 
 person, and for a very different object. 
 
 On first arriving in London, Chateaubriand had enjoyed 
 the great political importance which attached to his post ; 
 and had taken an almost boyish pleasure in parading his 
 
 197
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 fine horses, carriages, and liveries before the eyes of the 
 citizens who, when he formerly lived among them, had 
 hardly deigned to notice his existence. But, ere many 
 weeks had passed, the novelty of his new position had 
 worn off, and he once more began to experience that 
 feeling of weariness and disgust with his surroundings 
 which was incessantly threatening to counteract the activity 
 and ambition of his mind. " My principal fault," said he 
 of himself, " has been ennui, distaste for everything, 
 perpetual doubt." A strange temperament in a man 
 whose life had been devoted to the restoration of religion 
 and monarchy ! 
 
 The fact of the matter was that England wounded his 
 vanity. In Paris he could not enter a salon without at 
 once becoming the cynosure of all eyes ; he could not 
 open a newspaper without finding some reference to 
 himself. In London it was very different. As a man of 
 letters, he was known there only by name ; while, as a 
 politician, he found himself, to his intense mortification, 
 regarded rather as a successful party man than as a 
 statesman. London, the English Court and drawing- 
 rooms, bored and displeased him. " Every kind of reputa- 
 tion," he says in his Memoires, " travels rapidly to the 
 banks of the Thames, and leaves them again with the 
 same speed. I should have worried myself to no purpose 
 by endeavouring to acquire any knowledge of the English. 
 What a life is a London season ! I should prefer the 
 galleys a hundred times." l 
 
 His letters to Madame Recamier teem with complaints 
 of the monotony of his life and the social duties which his 
 official position entailed, and which he cordially detested. 
 
 " Yesterday I made my first appearance in society. I 
 
 1 Memoires d' Outre Tom be, vii. 395, 396. 
 198
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 was extremely bored at a rout. I have been unwell ever 
 since I have been here. I have frightful nights. The 
 climate is detestable. ... A part of my duty consists in 
 going into society ; and, when I have been working all 
 day, I have to dress and go out at half-past eleven in the 
 evening. Imagine what a plague this is to me ! ... I 
 am living contrary to all my tastes and habits. I leave 
 you that I may not annoy you with my lamentations." 
 
 He grumbles at the interest which she is taking in the 
 fate of Sirejean, and seems to regard it as a slight to 
 himself. " Alas ! we have plenty of personal sorrows 
 without adding to them the griefs of strangers." 
 
 As time went on, the monotony, the idleness, the 
 " isolation from the sound of his own name " — as 
 Lamartine aptly expresses it — became almost unendurable. 
 He burned with impatience to return to Paris, resume his 
 place in the Chamber of Peers, and compel the king to 
 acknowledge his claims to a seat in the Cabinet. An 
 opportunity soon presented itself, which enabled him to 
 seek in another direction the excitement and popularity 
 which were to him as the breath of life. 
 
 For some time past affairs in Spain had been going 
 from bad to worse. The despicable Ferdinand VII. had 
 been forced by his incensed subjects, in 1820, to accept 
 the Constitution of Cadiz ; but he had no sooner done so 
 than he had sought to evade its provisions, with the result 
 that the unhappy country was now given over to all the 
 horrors of civil war. Metternich, whose importance and 
 influence had greatly increased since he had crushed the 
 Italian revolutionaries, had now turned his attention to 
 the affairs of the Peninsula, and urged the Powers to 
 deliberate upon them in Congress. His suggestion was 
 adopted ; and Verona was selected as the trysting-place. 
 
 199
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 When Chateaubriand was first informed of the intention 
 of the allied sovereigns to meet at Verona, he wrote to 
 Villele strongly deprecating "the insolent interference of 
 the Northern Cabinets in the affairs of the South." He 
 would appear to have been, for the moment at any rate, 
 in favour of the extension of constitutional rights in Spain 
 and Naples, possibly owing to the influence of Canning, 
 with whom he had formed a close friendship. No sooner, 
 however, did he learn the names of the celebrated Ministers 
 and diplomatists who had been accredited by the different 
 Courts to assist at the Congress, than he became feverishly 
 anxious to be nominated as one of the French representa- 
 tives. He accordingly wrote to Villele and Mathieu de 
 Montmorency to press his claims ; but the two Ministers 
 ignored his appeals. Villele distrusted Chateaubriand, 
 who, he considered, would be as likely as not to commit 
 the Cabinet to a policy totally at variance with any 
 decision they might arrive at ; while Montmorency fore- 
 saw that, if the ambitious Breton attended the Congress, 
 there would be an end to all freedom of action on his 
 part ; that he would, in all probability, be compelled to 
 yield the palm to him in diplomacy, as he had already 
 done in love ; and that, on their return to Paris, Chateau- 
 briand would succeed in ousting him from the Foreign 
 Office, a post which, as he was well aware, he had long 
 coveted. Under these circumstances, Chateaubriand 
 decided to have recourse to the intervention of his friend 
 at the Abbaye-au-Bois, knowing full well that the devoted 
 Montmorency would find it hard to refuse her any favour 
 she might ask of him. He was, however, careful not to 
 allow her to suspect his real motive for wishing to go to 
 Verona. 
 
 " You will say that I am terribly anxious to take part 
 
 200
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 in this Congress," he writes. " Not at all. But it is the 
 road which leads me the more naturally into your cell, 
 without a resignation and without a scene. This is all 
 my secret. I shall await with the greatest impatience the 
 first news from you. Write ! Write ! " 
 
 At the same time, in order to leave nothing to chance, 
 he despatched Marcellus, the First Secretary of the French 
 Embassy, to Paris to represent to Montmorency that, 
 unless his request was granted, his chief was fully resolved 
 to resign his post, and return at once to France. 
 
 Montmorency's determination to exclude Chateaubriand 
 from the Congress was considerably shaken by this intelli- 
 gence, as he foresaw that, in the event of the ambassador 
 carrying out his threat, Villele would probably be con- 
 strained to sacrifice the Foreign Minister himself, in order 
 to buy off" the hostility of the man who had already 
 wrecked one Ministry, and might quite conceivably be 
 strong enough to upset another. When, therefore, to 
 the warnings of Marcellus were added the entreaties of 
 Madame Recamier, whom he feared would attribute a 
 refusal to jealousy of his successful rival in her affections, 
 he reluctantly yielded ; and, consoling himself with the 
 reflection that a troublesome colleague at Verona might, 
 perhaps, after all be preferable to a certain competitor in 
 Paris, advised Villele to send Chateaubriand his nomina- 
 tion. 
 
 It is more than doubtful whether Madame Recamier 
 would have lent her aid to the furtherance of Chateau- 
 briand's wishes, had she been at all aware of the secret 
 workings of her friend's ambitious mind. So far from 
 desiring to counteract the tendency of the Eastern despots 
 towards war, as he had led Villele at one time to suppose, 
 Chateaubriand was strongly in favour of armed interven- 
 
 201
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 tion in the affairs of Spain. Moreover, he fully intended 
 that it should be he, and not Montmorency, who should 
 decide upon and direct that war, notwithstanding the fact 
 that, in one of his letters to the Foreign Minister, he had 
 declared that the statement, which was being continually 
 made in the newspapers, that he desired his place in the 
 Cabinet was an " infamous falsehood," and that his sole 
 reason for wishing to take part in the Congress was to 
 increase his importance and influence at the Court of St. 
 James's. 
 
 Chateaubriand arrived at Verona on October 16, 
 whither Montmorency had alreadv preceded him. The 
 intercourse between the two diplomats was, according to 
 the correspondence which they kept up with the object of 
 their common attachment, courteous, although somewhat 
 reserved. " Our first meeting was very friendly," writes 
 Montmorency. " I trust that we shall continue on the 
 same footing. That is what I fully intend, and he also, I 
 imagine." " We are very civil to one another," says 
 Chateaubriand. They both, it appears, avoided, by 
 common consent, the subject of Madame Recamierr It 
 was still a sore point with the Foreign Minister. 
 
 The majority of the French Cabinet was strongly in 
 favour of war ; but Villele himself, the only member or 
 the Government who had the least pretensions to be con- 
 sidered a statesman, was anxious for peace, and desired 
 that, if war should become inevitable, France should main- 
 tain entire freedom of action, and should enter upon the 
 struggle as an independent Power, and not as the instru- 
 ment of the European Concert. He had, therefore, while 
 instructing the French envoys to ascertain whether the 
 Allies would support France in the event of the task 
 of coercing the Spaniards proving beyond her strength, 
 
 202
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 strictly enjoined them to avoid committing themselves 
 to any definite course of action until the opinion of 
 the Ministry at home had been taken upon it. 
 
 Montmorency, unfortunately, regarded the Spanish 
 Constitutionalists as the avowed enemies of religion, and 
 was eager for war. Moreover, he was entirely ignorant 
 of the tortuous paths of diplomacy, and was as wax in the 
 hands of such a veteran intriguer as Metternich. Instead, 
 therefore, of contenting himself with obtaining an assurance 
 from the Eastern Powers — Wellington, on behalf of 
 England, refused his assent — of their moral and material 
 support in the event of France declaring war, he 
 subscribed to a resolution, proposed by the crafty 
 Austrian envoy, that notes should be presented by all the 
 ambassadors at Madrid demanding a change in the Spanish 
 Constitution, and to a secret clause, whereby the four 
 Powers bound themselves to withdraw their ambassadors 
 should the Spanish Government fail to return a satisfactory 
 answer to their demands. A draft of the notes to be 
 presented was then drawn up ; and Montmorency re- 
 turned to Paris to submit it to the king before handing 
 it to the ambassadors for transmission to Madrid. 
 
 The principal reason that had induced Villele to con- 
 sent to Chateaubriand's nomination to the Congress was 
 the belief that he had imbibed the liberal opinions of his 
 friend Canning during his stay in England, and that he 
 would, therefore, serve as a useful counterpoise to the 
 warlike predilections of the Foreign Minister. A word 
 of warning from Chateaubriand might have prevented 
 Montmorency from allowing himself to be made the 
 catspaw of Metternich ; but that word was never spoken. 
 Chateaubriand was quick to perceive that not only was his 
 colleague committing the French Ministry to the policy 
 
 203
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 which he himself secretly favoured, but that he was 
 ruining his political prospects by his indiscretion, for it 
 would be impossible for Villele to overlook such wilful 
 disregard of his instructions, and that his fall would mean 
 his own elevation. He was, therefore, quite content to 
 keep in the background, and leave the conduct of the 
 negotiations entirely in the hands of Montmorency. 
 
 The latter was not a little surprised at this self-efface- 
 ment on the part of a man, as a rule, very far from 
 inclined to hide his light under a bushel, but he does not 
 appear to have had any suspicion of his real motive. " I 
 do not much like the general position in which he has 
 placed himself," he writes to Madame Recamier ; " he is 
 looked upon as singularly taciturn ; he assumes a stiff and 
 reserved manner, which makes others feel ill at ease in his 
 presence. I shall make every effort, before I leave, to 
 establish more congenial relations between him and his 
 colleagues." 
 
 Montmorency had no occasion to trouble himself to 
 secure this result. No sooner had the Foreign Minister 
 started for Paris than Chateaubriand emerged from his 
 shell all affability and courtesy. In a very few days he 
 had succeeded in ingratiating himself with the allied 
 sovereigns, more particularly with the Emperor Alexander, 
 whose indignation against the disturbers of the monarchi- 
 cal institutions of Spain he artfully encouraged, and who, 
 in return, promised him his unlimited support both for 
 his policy and for himself. 
 
 Meanwhile Mathieu de Montmorency had arrived in 
 Paris, where Louis XVIII. offered him a dukedom in 
 return for his services at the Congress. The king wished 
 to bestow upon him the title of Due de Verone ; but 
 Montmorency would not relinquish his name, even to 
 
 204
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 please his sovereign, and, accordingly, he was created 
 Due Mathieu de Montmorency, as the head of his illus- 
 trious family already bore the title of Due de Montmorency. 
 During his absence the elections had taken place, and still 
 further strengthened the war party in the Chamber of 
 Deputies ; while, on the other hand, the Constitutionalists 
 in Spain were carrying all before them, and the perjured 
 despot's throne, if not his life, seemed in imminent peril. 
 
 Such being the condition of affairs, Villele heard with 
 indignation and alarm how completely his colleague had 
 committed France to the policy of the Eastern Powers. 
 There was no likelihood that the Spaniards, now flushed 
 with triumph, would make the least concession of the kind 
 demanded, in which case France stood pledged, if Mont- 
 morency's action was ratified, to withdraw her ambassador 
 from Madrid at once. He endeavoured to persuade the 
 representatives of the other Powers to postpone, for the 
 present, the despatch of the threatening notes, but to no 
 purpose. 
 
 Montmorency, in the meantime, was urging on the 
 Cabinet the necessity of submitting a similar note to 
 Madrid, in conformity with the engagements he had 
 entered into at Verona. The king, however, probably 
 influenced by Wellington, who had stopped in Paris on 
 his homeward journey, and warned him against permitting 
 himself to be made the tool of the Eastern Powers, advised 
 delay, and, a few days later, to the intense chagrin of 
 Montmorency, appointed Villele President of the Council 
 of Ministers. 
 
 In virtue of his new position, Villele at once opened 
 negotiations with the Spanish Cortes, without even con- 
 sulting the Foreign Minister. Montmorency thereupon 
 called his colleagues together, and, in the presence of the 
 
 205
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 king, read to them the note which he had addressed to 
 the French ambassador at Madrid, and called upon them 
 to approve or disavow his action. 
 
 The Cabinet was divided, but the king put a stop to 
 the discussion by siding with Villele. The same day 
 Montmorency tendered his resignation, which was 
 accepted. 
 
 Villele saw that the resignation of a man like Mont- 
 morency, popular at once with the Congress, the Court, 
 the Royalists, and the Church, would mean the speedy 
 downfall of his own Ministry, unless he could replace him 
 by some one who would be likely to satisfy these powerful 
 interests. There was obviously only one person who could 
 fulfil these requirements — Montmorency's principal col- 
 league at Verona. Chateaubriand was by no means a 
 favourite at Court ; but, on the other hand, he had won 
 golden opinions from the allied sovereigns at the Congress, 
 and was the idol of the ultra-Royalists and the clergy. 
 Villele believed also that Chateaubriand would show him- 
 self more in harmony with his own views on the Spanish 
 Question than Montmorency had done, and he, accordingly, 
 advised the king to offer the vacant portfolio to the author 
 of Atala. 
 
 Chateaubriand could with difficulty conceal his delight 
 at finding the post he had so long coveted at last within 
 his grasp ; but, prompted either by vanity or, possibly, 
 by some decent scruples for the feelings of his old friend 
 Mathieu de Montmorency, he feigned great reluctance to 
 accept it. " I refused Villele at twelve," he writes to 
 Madame Recamier. " The king sent for me at four, and 
 Kept me an hour and a half preaching to me, I resisting. 
 At length he ordered me to obey. I obeyed. So now / 
 shall remain near you ; but this Ministry will kill mc" 
 
 206
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 Mathleu de Montmorency was naturally much mortified 
 at seeing himself supplanted by the friend who had so 
 indignantly protested against the insinuation that he had 
 any designs upon the Foreign Office, but he was far too 
 high-minded a man to make a parade of his own feelings, 
 still less to indulge in useless recriminations. " He con- 
 tinued to honour," says Lamartine, " sometimes in retire- 
 ment, sometimes at the Court, the king who disavowed 
 him, the Minister who dismissed him, and the friend who 
 abandoned him — an example almost unique among those 
 parties and assemblies where triumph hardens the heart 
 and defeat depraves it, and where changes of position are 
 so often changes of language, of cause, and of fidelity." 1 
 There can be no doubt, however, that a chivalrous desire to 
 spare the lady of the Abbaye-au-Bois the pain of witnessing 
 an open breach between her two most cherished friends 
 had much to do with the courtesy with which he continued 
 to treat Chateaubriand. A few days after his resignation 
 he writes to Madame Recamier : 
 
 " I wish, aimable amie> to inform you at once of the 
 result of the meeting about which you were inclined to be 
 uneasy. I have just come away from it. I had only to 
 ward off his civilities, excuses, and protestations. I believe 
 that I replied to them quite straightforwardly, without ill- 
 humour, anger, or weakness, and passed on without delay 
 to the business details which I had to give him, and which 
 he took in very good part. We separated on the footing 
 on which we must remain, and in which there is nothing 
 particularly embarrassing for you. 
 
 " I am sorry that I cannot see you personally to assure 
 you anew of my affection. Pray send me news of your 
 
 1 Lamartine's History of the Restoration of the Monarchy in France, 
 iv. 71. 
 
 207
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 health, and also Phedon, which will sustain me with sublime 
 thoughts in my retirement." 
 
 Chateaubriand had assured Madame Recamier that the 
 post of Foreign Minister would be his death, but we see 
 no sign of dying in what followed. No sooner did he 
 join the Ministry than he flung aside the mask of 
 moderation which he had hitherto assumed, and boldly 
 declared himself in favour of the very policy which had 
 cost poor Montmorency his place in the Cabinet. It was 
 in vain that England tendered her mediation ; it was in 
 vain that his friend Canning wrote expressing his amaze- 
 ment at this sudden and complete change in Chateau- 
 briand's views, and exhorting him to leave the Spanish 
 revolution " to burn itself out within its own crater M ; it 
 was in vain that champions of constitutional liberty like 
 General Foy, and far-seeing statesmen like Talleyrand, 
 denounced the proposed intervention, the one on the 
 ground of justice, the other on that of expediency. 
 Chateaubriand turned a deaf ear to all appeals. His fiery 
 eloquence roused the war-party to a pitch of frenzy against 
 which it was hopeless for Villele to protest ; the king's 
 speech at the opening of the Chambers virtually amounted 
 to a declaration of war, and, on April 7, 100,000 French 
 troops, under the command of the Due d'Angouldme, 
 crossed the Bidassoa. 
 
 During this eventful period Madame Rdcamier con- 
 tinued to be the recipient of all her friend's confidences : 
 
 " I could not see you yesterday, as the Chamber of 
 Peers adjourned too late. I pass to-day at the Council 
 with the king and in my salon ; and I shall work all 
 night to speak, perhaps, to-morrow, as my speech is not 
 yet finished. The Constitutionnel asserts again this morning 
 that I read the speech at the Abbaye-au-Bois. You see 
 
 208
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 how your friends treat you, and how well informed they 
 are. Let it pass. Pray for me, as I do for you. To- 
 morrow or Tuesday will be a decisive day in my political 
 career. I love you, and that sustains me. After my 
 speech, I shall be more at liberty, and wholly yours." 
 
 And again : 
 
 " Several foreign ambassadors have called upon me to 
 beg me to reply to Mr. Canning's speech. 1 They found 
 me at work upon the very speech which they wanted. 
 You can understand that this has spurred me on a little, 
 by promising me a European success. I am going to 
 bury myself in my work, and I will show it to you. But 
 I shall not be able to see you to-day, which counter- 
 balances the pleasure I feel at my political success. Pardon, 
 and love me a little for the sake of my fame. Till to- 
 morrow ! n 
 
 Soon after Chateaubriand became Foreign Minister, 
 Madame Recamier's former adorer Benjamin Constant, 
 who had taken an active part in opposing the war, was 
 prosecuted by the Government on account of two 
 pamphlets which he had written, and was sentenced to 
 pay a fine and undergo a term of imprisonment. Constant 
 now visited Madame Recamier but seldom ; but he came 
 to the Abbaye-au-Bois on this occasion to ask her to 
 intercede for him with Chateaubriand. She did so, and 
 his sentence was commuted to a simple fine. 
 
 Angoule'me's campaign in Spain was short and decisive. 
 The Constitutionalists, badly armed, badly led, and divided 
 among themselves, were, of course, quite incapable of 
 coping with disciplined troops. No serious resistance was 
 
 1 This was the speech which Canning delivered in the House of 
 Commons on April 8, in laying on the table the despatches relating to 
 the affairs of Spain. 
 
 209 o
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 met with, except at Cadiz, and the triumph of the French 
 arms was used to stamp out in the most merciless way the 
 adherents of liberty. Ferdinand VII. returned to Madrid, 
 and ruled for the rest of his worthless life as the most 
 absolute of sovereigns. 
 
 Chateaubriand's Spanish policy has been made the sub- 
 ject of the most extravagant praise on the part of some 
 of his contemporaries ; but the modern writer will prob- 
 ably see in it nothing but an utterly unjustifiable inter- 
 ference with the right of a free people to choose their own 
 form of government, with the puerile idea of restoring 
 French prestige by means of a military parade, and, at the 
 same time, identifying his own name with a great public 
 event. However, for the moment at any rate, his 
 triumph was complete. The glory of military successes 
 encircled the monarchy. The Royalists were exultant, 
 and deluded themselves with the belief that Angoul6me's 
 cheaply-gained successes had rekindled in the French army 
 something of its old enthusiasm for its Bourbon masters. 
 The clergy saw in the victory of their brethren in Spain a 
 promise of returning power for themselves. The allied 
 sovereigns sent him cordial congratulations and numerous 
 decorations. The journals vied with one another in ex- 
 tolling the statesmanlike qualities of the Foreign Minister. 
 The salons resounded with his praises. He was the hero 
 of the hour. 
 
 Madame R6camier sympathised to the full with the 
 success of her friend, but she could not fail to perceive 
 that his acceptance of office had, in a great measure, put 
 an end to the pleasant intercourse which they had formerly 
 enjoyed. Chateaubriand's daily visits to the Abbaye-au- 
 Bois were now frequently interrupted by meetings of the 
 Cabinet or by the sittings of the Chambers ; and when he 
 
 210
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 came she saw that he was greatly changed. The temper 
 and character of the great writer, like that of so many 
 other men of letters who have been called to play a promi- 
 nent part in political life, had not been proof against the 
 intoxication of fame and success-. The adulation of the 
 great world of Paris, more especially that part of it to 
 whose flattery he was most susceptible — the fine ladies of 
 the Faubourg St. Germain — had injured, temporarily at 
 least, the pure and devoted affection he still continued to 
 profess for her. Whereas she had hitherto found him, 
 notwithstanding his fits of depression, one of the kindest 
 and most considerate of friends, he was now quick to take 
 offence, absurdly sensitive to the least breath of criticism, 
 fretful and capricious as a spoiled child. Sometimes he 
 would neglect her for days together ; at others he would 
 be unreasonably exacting in his demands on her time and 
 attention ; and, moreover, she noticed with pain and 
 uneasiness that, as her niece diplomatically expresses it, 
 "he no longer treated her with that respectful reserve, 
 characteristic of those permanent sentiments which she 
 wished only to inspire." 
 
 Another source of unpleasantness for her lay in the now 
 very strained relations which existed between Chateau- 
 briand and Mathieu de Montmorency. The latter, as we 
 have seen, had behaved with rare magnanimity towards 
 Chateaubriand at the time when he had sided with Villele 
 against him, and consequently secured the post which his 
 own delicate sense of honour had prompted him to resign. 
 But it was too much to expect him to continue to do so 
 when he saw the new Minister pluming himself upon the 
 successful issue of the very policy to which his predecessor 
 had pledged himself at Verona. With the tenderest con- 
 sideration for Madame R6camier's peace of mind, it was 
 
 211
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 impossible for him to altogether conceal his contempt for 
 a man who could stoop to such duplicity to further his 
 own interests. 
 
 In the midst of these perplexities, Madame Recamier's 
 niece, Amelie de Cyvoct, was taken ill, and on her 
 recovery the doctors advised her wintering in a warm 
 climate. Madame Recamier welcomed this suggestion as 
 a means of escaping from her difficulties ; and, at the 
 beginning of November, set out for Italy. The faithful 
 Ballanche begged to be allowed to follow, which he did, 
 accompanied by Jean-Jacques Ampere, who had become 
 as devoted to Madame Recamier as any of her older 
 friends. " Perhaps nothing," says Madame Mohl, " can 
 show her peculiar charm so well as the attachment of 
 this young man. He had lost his own mother when a 
 child, and he found in Madame Recamier all the sympathy 
 and interest that a beautiful young mother gives so lavishly 
 to an affectionate son.'* 
 
 This departure for Italy was a great effort for Madame 
 R6camier, but, as she told one of her friends some years 
 later, she saw that a temporary separation from Chateau- 
 briand was the only course open to her under the circum- 
 stances. By the time she returned to Paris she hoped 
 that Chateaubriand would have come to see that the blame 
 for their recent misunderstandings rested entirely with 
 himself; that the friction between him and Mathieu de 
 Montmorency would be at an end, and that it would be 
 possible for them to resume their former pleasant relations, 
 as if nothing had ever occurred to interrupt them. 
 
 Chateaubriand could not but be aware that his own 
 conduct was the principal cause of his friend's leaving 
 Paris, but, true to his egotistical nature, he affected to 
 believe that he was the injured party. " Always fearing 
 
 212
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 to hurt your feelings," he says, " when you think so 
 lightly of mine, I write you this to reach you as you 
 pass through Lyons. I shall be in Paris on Thursday, and 
 you will be no longer there. Well, you would have it so. 
 Will you find me here on your return ? Apparently, that 
 is of little importance to you. To one who, like you, 
 has the heart to break up everything, what signifies the 
 future ? However, I shall await you. If I am alive on your 
 return, you will find me the same as you leave me, my 
 every thought of you, and never having ceased to love 
 you. 
 
 He evidently thought that her journey was but a 
 whim, and that she would soon return, and predicts as 
 much in a letter which he sends her a few days later. 
 However, she did not do so until the summer of 1825 ; 
 ind, after a few months, Chateaubriand took umbrage 
 at her continued absence, and for more than a year there 
 seems to have been a break in their correspondence. 
 
 *»3
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 Madame Recamier arrives in Rome — The Due de Laval — 
 Elizabeth, Duchess of Devonshire — Her patronage of art and 
 literature — Illness and death of Cardinal Consalvi — Grief of 
 the duchess — The Bonaparte family in Rome — Madame 
 Recamier meets Queen Hortense at St. Peter's — Torlonia's 
 ball — A comedy of errors — Illness and death of the Duchess 
 of Devonshire — Singular conduct of the young duke — A 
 curious story — Madame Recamier's letter to Mathieu de 
 Montmorency — Madame Salvage de Faverolles — Affairs in 
 France — The Septennial and Revenue Bills — Strong opposition 
 to the latter measure in the Chambers — Chateaubriand remains 
 silent — Indignation of his colleagues — His ignominious dis- 
 missal from office — His resentment and its results 
 
 Madame Recamier arrived in Rome at the end of 
 November. Her friend Canova was no longer there to 
 greet her : he had died at Venice more than two years 
 earlier, from a disease brought on by the continual use of 
 carving-tools, and his sceptre had passed to the Danish 
 sculptor Thorwaldsen ; but she received a warm welcome 
 from her old admirer Adrien de Montmorency, now 
 Due de Laval, and French Ambassador to the Vatican. 
 He placed his carriages, horses, and servants at her 
 disposal, came to see her every day, and did all in his 
 power to make her voluntary exile as pleasant as possible. 
 She took lodgings in the Via Baburino, opposite the 
 Greek Church, and her evening receptions went on just 
 
 214
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 as if she had been still in Paris. "Every evening,'* 
 writes Madame Chevreux, " she is surrounded by intimate 
 friends, such as M. Dugas-Montbel, the Due de Laval- 
 Montmorency, M. de Girr£, the Abbe Canova, Guerin, 
 Leopold Robert, Delecluze, &c. Ballanche and Made- 
 moiselle Amelie remain with Madame Recamier ; Jean- 
 Jacques [Ampere] passes part of his days with them. 
 And so the Abbaye-au-Bois is reconstituted in Italy." 
 
 The acknowledged leader of society in Rome at this 
 time was Elizabeth, Duchess of Devonshire, who had 
 taken up her residence there after her husband's death in 
 1 8 14, and enjoyed the friendship of many distinguished 
 Italians, particularly of Cardinal Consalvi, Pius VII. 's able 
 and liberal-minded Secretary of State ; while her house 
 was the chief resort of the brilliant throng which flocked 
 to the Eternal City from all parts of Europe. 
 
 The duchess, who was a daughter of the fourth Earl of 
 Bristol, had been one of the most beautiful women of her 
 day, although she was now pale and emaciated. When 
 very young she had married Mr. John Forster, who, 
 however, died a few years later. After his death she 
 spent some time on the Continent, and at Lausanne met 
 Gibbon the historian, who gave it as his opinion that " if 
 she chose to beckon the Lord Chancellor from his wool- 
 sack, in full sight of the world, he could not resist 
 obedience " ; and is said to have proposed to her upon his 
 knees, from which position, owing to the violence of his 
 emotion and his extreme corpulence, he was unable to rise 
 until she had summoned her maid to assist him. She did 
 not return the author's affection, although she was a great 
 admirer of his " History," part of which he read to her 
 before sending it to his publishers in London ; and in 1 809 
 became the second wife of the fifth Duke of Devonshire. 
 
 215
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 She was a munificent patron of literature and art, 
 although the omniscient George Ticknor was of opinion 
 that " she attempted to play the Macaenas a little too 
 much." In 1816 she printed, at her own expense, the 
 Fifth Satire of the First Book of Horace, with a versified 
 Italian translation, and, two years later, an edition of the 
 Aineid of Virgil, with a translation by Annibal Caro. 
 Both these works were embellished with fine engravings 
 by the most famous artists in Italy. 
 
 The duchess was an old friend of the Due de Laval's, 
 whom she had known as an emigre in England, and both 
 he and Mathieu de Montmorency always spoke of her as 
 " la duchesse cousine" though there was no tie of relation- 
 ship between them. Madame Recamier had first met her 
 during her visit to England in 1802, and the acquaintance 
 thus formed was renewed in Paris after the Restoration, 
 and soon ripened into a warm friendship. 
 
 At the time of Madame Recamier's arrival in Rome, 
 Cardinal Consalvi was seriously ill, and she became the 
 sympathising confidante of the alternate hopes and fears of 
 her English friend. The cardinal's illness, to the in- 
 expressible grief of the duchess, terminated fatally at the 
 beginning of the following January. 
 
 The Carnival that year at Rome was a very brilliant 
 one. The Due de Laval, the French Ambassador, enter- 
 tained on a regal scale, and gave several magnificent balls ; 
 but Madame R6camier adhered to her resolution not to 
 attend any large gatherings, and during her stay in Rome 
 made but few exceptions to this rule. One of these was 
 on the occasion of some private theatricals at the Austrian 
 Embassy, in which her niece had been invited to take 
 part. Mademoiselle de Cyvoct appears to have acquitted 
 herself with great credit, and her aunt was much gratified 
 
 216
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 by the encomiums bestowed upon her acting. Madame 
 Recamier was accompanied by the Duchess of Devonshire, 
 the first time the latter had appeared in society since the 
 death of her friend the cardinal. " She was very sad," 
 writes Madame Recamier to her nephew Paul David, 
 " and when the hall resounded with laughter, she would 
 look sorrowfully at me, as if to invite my sympathy." 
 
 By the treaties of 1 8 1 5 the members of the Bonaparte 
 family were not allowed to travel or change their place of 
 residence without the unanimous consent of the five 
 Great Powers ; but many of them had obtained permission 
 to reside in the Papal States, and in Rome Madame 
 Recamier found Napoleon's mother, " Madame Mere," 
 as she was still called ; her brother, Cardinal Fesch, who 
 had one of the finest private picture galleries in Europe ; 
 the Princess Borghese (Pauline Bonaparte) ; Jerome, 
 ex-King of Westphalia ; Louis, ex-King of Holland, and 
 her old adorer Lucien Bonaparte, who had been created 
 Prince de Canino by Pope Pius VII., and was held in 
 much esteem in Rome, although he seldom went into 
 society, preferring to divide his time between his children, 
 to whom he was devotedly attached, and his books. Soon 
 after her arrival the Bonapartes were reinforced by the 
 arrival of the Duchesse de St. Leu (Queen Hortense) 
 and her two sons, Napoleon and Louis (afterwards 
 Napoleon III.). 
 
 Madame Recamier met the ex-queen one day at 
 St. Peter's, whither she had gone to listen to the music, 
 and was warmly greeted by Hortense, with whom she 
 had been on very friendly terms until she had the 
 misfortune to fall under the ban of the Emperor's 
 displeasure. 
 
 In deference to the feelings of the Due de Laval, whose 
 
 217
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 position as the accredited representative of the Bourbons 
 precluded him from holding any intercourse with the 
 rival dynasty, Madame Recamier had hitherto refrained 
 from visiting or receiving any of the Bonaparte family ; 
 but she now spent a good deal of her time in the society 
 of the ex-queen, with whom she made daily expeditions 
 to the different places of interest around Rome. 
 
 One of the chief events of the Carnival was a grand 
 masked ball given by Torlonia, the banker, at his magni- 
 ficent palace on the Corso. Madame Recamier and 
 Queen Hortense were very nearly of the same height and 
 figure, and the latter persuaded her friend to break 
 through her rule and attend the ball, and, moreover, 
 arranged that they should both wear the same costume — 
 a white satin domino, trimmed with pearls — in which 
 disguise it would be very difficult, even for their most 
 intimate friends, to distinguish one from the other. As a 
 mark of recognition, Hortense was to carry a bouquet of 
 roses, while Madame Recamier wore a wreath of the same 
 flowers. We will let Madame Recamier give her own 
 account of the comedy of errors which followed : 
 
 " I arrived at the ball, escorted by the Due de Laval, 
 and eagerly scanned the large and brilliant crowd which 
 thronged the rooms in search of the queen, whom I at 
 length perceived in company with Prince Jerome Bona- 
 parte. In passing and repassing each other, we found an 
 opportunity of exchanging a few words, and speedily con- 
 cocted a little plot. At a moment when the crowd was 
 very great, I suddenly left the Due de Laval, and, stepping 
 back a few paces, hastily unfastened my wreath. The 
 queen, who was on the alert, gave me her bouquet in 
 exchange, and took my place on the arm of the ambassador 
 of Louis XVIII. , while I occupied hers, under the escort 
 
 218
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 of the ex-King of Westphalia. She was soon surrounded 
 by all the representatives of the Foreign Powers, and I 
 by all the Bonapartists who happened to be in Rome. 
 While she was amused at the greetings which, as the 
 companion of the ambassador, she received from the 
 diplomatists — many of whom, no doubt, she knew — I was 
 astonished, in my turn, at the revelation of regrets and 
 hopes which people generally express only to members of 
 their own party. Before suspicion could be aroused, we 
 resumed our places, and, when next we met, changed again ; 
 in short, we repeated this jest until it ceased to amuse us, 
 which very soon happened, for everything amusing is from 
 its nature of short duration. In the meanwhile, this ruse, 
 which was finally suspected, had created consternation in 
 our respective circles. It was rumoured throughout the 
 ball-room, that Queen Hortense and Madame Recamier 
 wore the same disguise ; and the perplexity of those who 
 addressed either of us, while still uncertain of our identity, 
 prolonged for some time our enjoyment of the joke. 
 Everybody took it in good part, with the exception of 
 the Princesse de Lieven, who never laid aside politics, 
 even at a ball, and who thought it disgraceful that she 
 should have been compromised by association with a 
 Bonapartist." * 
 
 At the beginning of the spring Madame Recamier 
 suffered a severe blow from the loss of her friend the 
 Duchess of Devonshire, who had never recovered from 
 the shock of Cardinal Consalvi's death, and who died on 
 March 30, after a few days' illness. 
 
 The only one of the duchess's relations at that time in 
 Rome was her step-son, the young Duke of Devonshire, 
 to whom Madame Recamier wrote, begging to be allowed 
 
 1 Souvenirs, ii. 281. 
 219
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 to see her. In answer to her request she received the 
 following letter : 
 
 The Duke of Devonshire to Madame Recamier. 
 
 " March 27. 
 
 " Dearest Madame Rfxamier, — Pray do not think 
 me unkind, if I beg of you to be tranquil. When the 
 time comes for her friends to see her, you will be the first 
 I shall think of, and I will send for you. To-day, no 
 one, not even myself, is allowed to enter her room. 
 Believe me, I fully appreciate your tender friendship for 
 her. 
 
 u Your devoted servant, 
 
 "Devonshire." 
 
 The following night, however, the duke wrote to her 
 again : 
 
 " Come, dear madame, if you have strength to promise 
 me not to enter her room too abruptly. 
 
 " Devonshire." 
 
 Madame Recamier hastened to her friend's house, 
 where she found the Due de Laval, who had also been 
 sent for. They were kept waiting for a considerable 
 time ; but at length the duke appeared, and conducted 
 them to the sick-room, where they saw at once that the 
 end was only a question of a few minutes. The duchess 
 was unable to speak, but she recognised her friends, and 
 pressed Madame Recamier's hand affectionately before she 
 died. The next day the duke sent Madame Recamier a 
 ring, which the dead woman had worn until the last, and 
 had bequeathed to her. 
 
 220
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 The conduct of the young duke in refusing to allow 
 his step-mother's most intimate friends to see her until so 
 near the end was much commented upon in Rome, and 
 revived the old story that the Duke of Devonshire was 
 not the son of the previous duke's first wife, the celebrated 
 beauty Georgiana, but of the deceased duchess herself. 
 According to this account, Georgiana, who was confined 
 of a daughter at the same time that her friend, then Lady 
 Elizabeth Forster, gave birth to a son, consented to the 
 substitution of the children ; and the scandal-mongers 
 hinted that the duke had been afraid that the dying 
 woman might reveal this secret. Madame Recamier, 
 however, believed, and the Due de Laval shared her con- 
 viction, that the Duke of Devonshire's somewhat unusual 
 behaviour was to be accounted for by the fact that he had 
 reason to suppose that his step-mother's Protestantism had 
 been shaken during her intimacy with Cardinal Consalvi ; 
 and so, fearing that when dying she might desire to be 
 received into the Roman Catholic Church, he would not 
 permit any members of that communion to have access to 
 her until she had lost the power of speech. 
 
 As spring advanced Madame Recamier's friends in 
 Paris began to urge her to return, but, partly owing to 
 the wish to completely re-establish her niece's health, and 
 partly owing to the fear of falling again into the old 
 stormy relationship with Chateaubriand, she decided to 
 remain in Italy until the following year. " If I were tc 
 return to Paris," she says in a letter to Mathieu de Mont- 
 morency, " I should meet again with the old disturbing 
 influences that were the cause of my leaving. If M. 
 de Chateaubriand were on bad terms with me, I should 
 be deeply grieved ; if, on the other hand, he was amiably 
 disposed, the result would be an annoyance I am deter- 
 
 221
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 mined to avoid for the future. It makes me sad to have 
 to remain separated from my friends for another six 
 months; but it is better to make this sacrifice, and I 
 confess I feel it to be a necessary one." 
 
 Among the friends whom Madame Recamier made 
 about this time in Rome was Madame Salvage de Fave- 
 rolles, afterwards the devoted friend of Queen Hortense 
 and the confidante of Louis Napoleon's ambitious schemes. 
 She was a tall woman, with a fine figure, a harsh voice, 
 and an abnormally long nose. The Due de Laval, who 
 was afraid of her temper, used to caution his friends not 
 to offend her lest she should run her nose through their 
 bodies. Madame Salvage had a perfect passion for 
 celebrities, and took a violent fancy to Madame Recamier. 
 The latter, however, did not return her affection, while 
 her friends were by no means prepossessed in her favour. 
 On the other hand, she recognised her sterling qualities, 
 and introduced her to Queen Hortense, to whom Madame 
 Salvage attached herself for the remainder of the ex- 
 queen's eventful life. 
 
 While Madame Recamier was living thus quietly at 
 Rome, the condition of affairs in France, both in the 
 Chambers and the Cabinet, was anything but pacific. 
 Two important measures were presented to the Chambers 
 during the session of 1824. The first of these was a 
 Septennial Bill, which proposed to repeal the law by which 
 one-fifth of the Chamber of Deputies retired in rotation 
 each year, and to give the existing House a duration of 
 seven years from its election in 1822. By this means thr 
 Government intended to maintain intact the Royalist 
 majority in the Chamber for the next five years, and thus 
 consolidate the Bourbon dynasty. This reactionary 
 
 222
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 measure — one of the worst instances on record of the abuse 
 of a Parliamentary majority — passed both Houses by large 
 majorities, in spite of the opposition of the Liberals and 
 the more moderate Royalists. 
 
 The second measure, for which Villele was mainly 
 responsible, was a financial one, and aimed at reducing the 
 interest on the Funds and compelling the fund-holders to 
 convert their old stock into new, which would represent 
 an amount of capital and interest considerably smaller than 
 they had hitherto possessed. This would have been an 
 equitable and salutary measure enough in England and 
 other countries, where the State borrows a real and definite 
 capital, and naturally reserves to itself the right of paying 
 off" the lenders, when it can replace them by others who 
 will be content with a lower rate of interest. But in 
 France the Consolidated Funds represented for the most 
 part interminable annuities — indemnities for the bank- 
 ruptcies and confiscations of the Revolution — and the 
 Government, in proposing their conversion, violated both 
 the spirit and the letter of their engagements. 
 
 The Bill passed the elective Chamber without much 
 difficulty, but it met with determined opposition in the 
 Chamber of Peers, where the Church party, led by Quelen, 
 Archbishop of Paris, made common cause with the rich 
 capitalists, whose incomes were threatened by the measure, 
 and the Liberals, who opposed it in order to embarrass 
 the Government. Villele, however, relied upon the 
 eloquence of Chateaubriand to turn the scale in favour of 
 the Ministry, but, to his consternation, his colleague made 
 no attempt to intervene in the debate, with the result that 
 the Foreign Minister's personal following concluded that 
 they were at liberty to vote as they pleased, and the Bill 
 was lost by a small majority. 
 
 223
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 Chateaubriand's action on this occasion was generally 
 attributed at the time to dissatisfaction with the measure, 
 and he was much applauded for his disinterested conduct ; 
 but, according to his own account, given some years later, 
 he was, though by no means enthusiastic about it, in favour 
 of the Bill — indeed, he voted for it with the rest of the 
 Ministry — and abstained from joining in the debate 
 simply because Villele had omitted to supply him with 
 the financial details necessary for an effective speech. 
 But whatever his reason may have been, it certainly seems 
 extraordinary that he should have taken no steps whatever 
 to inform his colleague of his intentions, after apparently 
 giving him to understand that he might count on his 
 support. 
 
 The indignation of Villele at what he considered 
 Chateaubriand's treason was unbounded. He had never 
 forgiven him for his volte-face on the Spanish question, 
 which had forced him to consent to a policy of which he 
 strongly disapproved ; and he suspected him, not without 
 reason, of wishing to supplant him, as he had already 
 supplanted Montmorency. The rest of the Ministry 
 shared his indignation, and Corbiere, the Minister of the 
 Interior, went so far as to declare that when Chateaubriand 
 came into the Council Chamber at one door he would go 
 out at the other. Villele, accordingly, confident in the 
 support of the Cabinet, went to the king, and advised him 
 to dismiss the Foreign Minister, representing that it was 
 impossible for him to work in conjunction with so untrust- 
 worthy a colleague. 
 
 The king, who had always detested Chateaubriand, 
 and had only consented to his inclusion in the Ministry 
 after much pressure, was only too glad of an excuse to 
 get rid of him ; and Villele took care that the royal 
 
 224
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 command should be communicated to his colleague in a 
 manner which should give an additional sting to his 
 disgrace. 
 
 An accidental circumstance served to still further 
 embitter Chateaubriand's dismissal. On June 6 (Whit 
 Sunday) he presented himself at the Tuileries to pay his 
 respects to the Comte d'Artois. The previous evening 
 he had attended a meeting of the Cabinet, where his 
 opinion on the matters under discussion had been invited 
 and listened to with the usual deference ; and he had 
 received no indication, either by word or look, of the 
 intention of his colleagues to get rid of him. Now, 
 however, while awaiting the prince's pleasure, he noticed 
 that his presence seemed to arouse an unusual amount of 
 interest, and that the courtiers who came and went 
 regarded him with surprise, and exchanged significant 
 glances with one another. Presently an usher approached, 
 and whispered that a gentleman wished to speak to him ; 
 and, going into the Hall of the Marshals, he found his 
 private secretary, Hyacinth Pilorge, who handed him a 
 packet, saying, as he did so, " Monsieur is no longer 
 Minister." The packet, it appeared, had been sent to the 
 Foreign Minister's hotel, but Chateaubriand had not been 
 there that morning, and, in his absence, it had been 
 opened by the Due de Lauzun, one of the Foreign Office 
 officials. The contents of the packet were as follows : 
 
 " Monsieur le Vicomte, — I obey the orders of the 
 King in transmitting instantly to your Excellency an 
 ordinance which His Majesty has just issued. 
 
 ** I have the honour to be, &c. 
 
 ** (Signed) J. de Villele. 
 
 " The President of the Council of Ministers. 
 225 p
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 " The Sieur Vicomte de Villele, President of our Council 
 of Ministers, and Secretary of State for the Department of 
 Finance, is charged par interim with the portfolio of 
 Foreign Affairs in the place of the Sieur Vicomte de 
 Chateaubriand. 
 
 " The President of our Council of Ministers is charged 
 with the execution of the present ordinance, which shall 
 be inserted in the bulletin of the laws. 
 
 " Given at Paris, in our Chateau of the Tuileries, June 6, 
 in the year of grace 1824, and the twenty-ninth of our 
 reign. 
 
 "By the King 
 
 " (Signed) Louis. 
 
 "(Signed) J. de Villele. 
 
 " The President of the Council of Ministers? 
 
 The resentment of the man thus insulted was implacable. 
 He vowed that the jealous mediocrities and servile 
 courtiers of which the Ministry was composed should 
 soon learn to appreciate him at his proper value, and 
 should bitterly rue the hour in which they had had the 
 temerity to drive genius into opposition. To this end all 
 his eloquence, all his incomparable polemic energy, was 
 devoted. For four years with voice and pen, in the 
 Chamber and in the Press, he never ceased to assail the 
 Government from which he had been so imprudently 
 expelled. He succeeded in his purpose of overthrowing 
 his enemy Villele, but his opposition went much further 
 than that, much further, indeed, than he would have 
 allowed it to go could he have foreseen the consequences 
 of his hostility. Chateaubriand had done more than any 
 man in France to bring about the Restoration ; he did 
 more than any man to destroy it. From the day he 
 
 X26
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 retired from office, followed by all the intelligence of his 
 party, and by the Journal des Debats and all the other 
 Royalist organs, save those in the pay of the Government, 
 we may date those divisions in the Legitimist camp which 
 paved the way for that " fortuitous concourse of atoms," 
 which, within the space of a few years, converted an 
 insignificant minority in the Chamber into an over- 
 whelming majority, and brought about the downfall of 
 the dynasty whose position at that moment seemed so 
 impregnable. 
 
 **/
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 Madame Recamier's opinion of Chateaubriand's fall — She 
 sets out for Naples — Charles Lenormant — Winter in Rome 
 — Madame Swetchine — The bas-relief of Eudorus and Cymo- 
 docea — Madame Recamier starts for France — Visit to Canova's 
 native village — Visit to Caroline Murat at Trieste — Harsh 
 treatment of the ex-queen by the Powers — Madame Re- 
 camier returns to Paris — Renewal of her friendly relations 
 with Chateaubriand — Marriage of Amelie de Cyvoct — 
 Mathieu de Montmorency is elected to the Academy — And 
 is appointed Governor to the Due de Bordeaux — His sudden 
 death — His noble character — His widow's letters to Madame 
 Recamier 
 
 Madame Recamier had not heard from Chateaubriand 
 for some weeks, he having, as we have said, taken umbrage 
 at her continued absence from Paris ; and it was a letter 
 from Mathieu de Montmorency which first acquainted 
 her with the change in the political fortunes of her 
 ambitious friend. 
 
 Montmorency, who was strongly opposed to Villele's 
 revenue bill, had forgotten the differences between himself 
 and the fallen Minister, and expressed his generous appro- 
 bation of Chateaubriand's conduct. " His behaviour," he 
 says, " is simple, noble, and courageous. He has just 
 come into the Chamber, where I am writing, to resume 
 his old place." 
 
 The Due de Laval, however, who had returned to Paris 
 
 228
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 on leave of absence, took a very different view of the 
 matter, and wrote to her deploring the violence with which 
 Chateaubriand was assailing his former colleagues, and 
 pointing out how seriously he was injuring his political 
 prospects by adopting such a course ; while the old Due 
 de Doudeauville, who was a supporter of Villele, echoed 
 his complaints, and suggested that if Madame Recamier 
 could see her way to return to Paris at this juncture, 
 " she might be of infinite service in softening these 
 asperities." 
 
 Madame R6camier fully shared Chateaubriand's indig- 
 nation at the insulting character of his dismissal : but she 
 could not help agreeing with the Due de Laval that it 
 would have been more dignified and more in keeping with 
 his reputation and his interests to have remained silent ; 
 and she felt that in this respect his conduct compared very 
 unfavourably with that of Mathieu de Montmorency 
 under somewhat similar circumstances. It was thought 
 probable that the latter would return to his old place in 
 the Cabinet ; but his dislike to the revenue bill proved an 
 insurmountable obstacle, and the vacant portfolio was 
 given to the Baron de Damas, who was a great friend of 
 the Due d'Angouleme, and whose servility to the Court 
 was unimpeachable. 
 
 Madame R6camier's regret at Chateaubriand's fall was 
 probably not untinged with a feeling of relief that the 
 principal bar to a renewal of their former friendship had 
 thereby been removed. Now that he was no longer the 
 most prominent figure in his sovereign's councils, and no 
 longer the centre of a sycophantic herd of courtiers and 
 place-hunters, she foresaw that he would soon begin to 
 repent the severance of a connection which had been the 
 chief solace of his life, before the fumes of the incense of 
 
 229
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 flattery had mounted to his brain. She did not, however, 
 on that account decide to hasten her return to Paris, 
 knowing well that the longer she remained away, the 
 greater would be Chateaubriand's need of her companion- 
 ship and sympathy, and the keener his remorse at having 
 been the cause of her absence. 
 
 Towards the end of June, Madame Recamier and her 
 niece, accompanied by Ampere and Ballanche, left Rome 
 for Naples, travelling for the most part by night in order 
 to avoid the heat and the malaria from the Pontine 
 marshes. Brigandage was so rampant in Southern Italy 
 at this time that they deemed it advisable to secure an 
 escort of eighty Austrian soldiers to conduct them along 
 the most dangerous parts of the route ; but they reached 
 Naples without any adventures. Once again Madame 
 Recamier established herself on the Chiaja, in rooms 
 which commanded an exquisite view of the blue waters of 
 the sunlit bay and the Island of Capri ; but owing to the 
 extreme heat which aggravated a complaint from which 
 she suffered much in later life — insomnia — she passed 
 every night for several weeks in rooms at Capo di Monti 
 on the heights of Naples. 
 
 Both Madame Recamier's squires were highly pleased 
 with Naples. Ballanche, upon whose philosophic mind the 
 most beautiful works of art had made but little impression, 
 was lost in admiration at the wonders of Nature among 
 which he now found himself; while young Ampere, to 
 whom this Italian tour was to prove the forerunner of 
 wanderings in many lands, took a keen delight in all he 
 saw, and was the life and soul of the little party. " I do 
 not believe there can be anything more delightful in any 
 place in the world," he writes to his father. " The nights 
 of Greece and the East cannot be more beautiful. We 
 
 230
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 shall go to see Pompeii by one of these delightful nights. 
 The illusion will be more perfect in the ancient city at the 
 hour when the inhabitants may be supposed to have 
 quitted the temples and theatres and to be asleep. I hope 
 to write here, for there is less to be seen than at Rome, 
 and in the long dreamy days on the seashore the waves 
 will bring me many a verse." 1 
 
 Madame Recamier's niece, Amelie de Cyvoct, also 
 carried away pleasant recollections of the syren city, for 
 it was here that she met Charles Lenormant, a young 
 antiquary and one of Champollion's favourite pupils, who 
 subsequently became her husband. Under his guidance 
 Madame Recamier and her friends made many expedi- 
 tions, taking special pleasure in visiting the scenes men- 
 tioned by Chateaubriand and Madame de Stael in their 
 writings. 
 
 Madame Recamier returned to Rome at the end of 
 November. She had hoped that Mathieu de Montmorency 
 would have joined her there ; but the illness of his aged 
 mother prevented him leaving Paris. She did not lack 
 friends, however, as the approach of the Jubilee brought 
 many visitors to the Eternal City, including Mathieu's 
 relatives, the Baron and Baronne de Montmorency, the 
 Due and Duchesse de Noailles, and Madame de Nesselrode, 
 the wife of the Russian Foreign Minister. She also made 
 the acquaintance of the celebrated Madame Swetchine, 
 who appears to have come to Rome, imbued with some 
 prejudices against Madame Recamier. These, however, 
 vanished at their first meeting ; and she soon became as 
 much attached to her as Madame de Kriidener had been. 
 " I was a captive before I thought of defending myself," 
 she writes to her. " I yielded at once to that irresistible, 
 
 1 Hamerton's "Modern Frenchmen," p. 273. 
 231
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 indefinable charm to which you subject even those in whom 
 you take no interest." 
 
 During the winter, Madame Recamier passed a good 
 deal of her time in the atelier of the sculptor Tenerani, 
 whom she had commissioned to execute a bas-relief to 
 perpetuate one of Chateaubriand's finest creations, the 
 martyrdom of Eudorus and Cymodocea. This work was 
 completed in 1828, when the author of Les Martyrs him- 
 self was ambassador at Rome, and was greatly admired. 
 It is now in the museum at St. Malo — Chateaubriand's 
 birthplace — to which it was bequeathed by Madame 
 Recamier. 
 
 After Easter, Madame Recamier and her party com- 
 menced their homeward journey. On their way they 
 stopped for a week in Venice, and then left for Bassano 
 to meet the Abbe Canova, who had promised to conduct 
 them to Possagno, his famous brother's native village, 
 where a magnificent church, for the erection of which the 
 sculptor had bequeathed the greater part of his fortune, 
 was being built. This church had been intended by 
 Canova for the reception of a colossal statue of Religion, 
 on which he was working at the time of his death, and he 
 had expressed a wish to be buried there The sculptor 
 had been passionately attached to his native village. Every 
 autumn it had been his custom to spend some time there, 
 and give a sumptuous feast to the workmen engaged upon 
 the building of the church. On one of these occasions, it 
 is said, he caused all the peasant girls of the neighbouring 
 hamlets to pass in review before him, and to each he made 
 a present, expending in this way over ten thousand lira. 
 
 The abbe took Madame Recamier to see the little 
 church, where his brother's remains lay pending the com- 
 pletion of the new building. It was a bare little place, the 
 
 23*
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 only ornament being a magnificent whole-length portrait 
 of the deceased sculptor above the high altar. After the 
 new church was finished the Abbe Canova was created 
 Bishop of Myndus by Pope Gregory XVI. 
 
 From Bassano, Madame Recamier journeyed to Trieste 
 to visit her old friend Caroline Murat, ex-Queen of 
 Naples, who was living there under the title of Comtesse 
 de Lipona, an anagram on the name of the beautiful city 
 where she had once reigned. After the judicial murder 
 of her husband in 1815, the ex-queen had retired to a 
 country house in the neighbourhood of Vienna, where for 
 some years she devoted herself to the education of her 
 children. She had wished to join her mother and brothers 
 at Rome, but permission to do so had been refused by the 
 Powers, who considered that it was too near Naples, 
 where the perjured tyrant Ferdinand was only able to 
 keep his throne through the help of Austrian bayonets. 
 They had lately, however, consented to her going as near 
 Italy as Trieste. 
 
 Madame Recamier received a very warm welcome from 
 Madame Murat, whom she had not seen for eleven years. 
 The ex-queen was still very handsome, though she had 
 grown somewhat stout, while her manners were as charming 
 as ever. She complained bitterly of the irritating restric- 
 tions imposed upon her by the Powers, who seemed to 
 have shared the high opinion of her statecraft which 
 Talleyrand had once expressed, and to have regarded her 
 as the most dangerous of all the exiled family. She was 
 not allowed to live in Italy, the Low Countries, or 
 Switzerland, while France was of course closed to her ; 
 nor was she permitted to remain in one place for more 
 than a certain length of time. To add to her troubles, 
 King Ferdinand had on landing seized all her private 
 
 233
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 property at Naples, while the Bourbons had sequestrated 
 that in France, including the estate at Neuilly which 
 Napoleon had given her. In consequence she was now in 
 somewhat straitened circumstances, and her two sons had 
 been forced to seek their fortunes in America. The elder 
 of these, Louis, who settled in Florida, married a grand- 
 niece of Washington, and wrote several commendable 
 books about America and her institutions. He died in 
 1847. The younger, Lucien, returned to France the year 
 after his brother's death, was elected to the Chamber of 
 Deputies, and supported the policy of his cousin Louis 
 Napoleon. When King Bomba was driven out of Naples 
 by his enraged subjects, Lucien Murat issued a manifesto ; 
 but the time had not yet come for delivering Italy from 
 the Bourbon and Austrian yoke, and the French Govern- 
 ment declined to support his claims. 
 
 Madame Recamier only remained a few days at Trieste, 
 as she was tired of her wandering life, and then, taking an 
 affectionate farewell of her good-natured friend, resumed 
 her journey to Paris, where she arrived on May 3, after 
 an absence of eighteen months. While at Naples she had 
 received the news of the death of Louis XVIII. and the 
 accession of Charles X., events which Chateaubriand had 
 celebrated by the publication of his rather extravagant 
 brochure, Le Roi est mortl Vive le Roi! The new 
 monarch shared his predecessor's dislike to the great 
 writer, but it was not as yet so pronounced ; and on her 
 arrival Madame Recamier found that Chateaubriand was 
 at Rheims attending the coronation. Mathieu de Mont- 
 morency was also absent on the same errand, but wrote, 
 begging her to let him know the result of her first inter- 
 view with " the melancholy ReneY' 
 
 234
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 The faithful Mathieu might have spared himself any 
 anxiety on that score. The very day on which he returned 
 to Paris, Chateaubriand hastened to the Rue de Sevres. 
 No word of explanation or of reproach passed between 
 them ; but Madame Recamier's womanly instinct told 
 her at once that it was the friend of the early days at the 
 Abbaye-au-Bois who now stood before her — the friend 
 who had been all the world to her before the intoxication 
 of political success, and the adulation of those who are 
 ever ready to bow down to it, had interrupted the com- 
 panionship which had been so pleasant to them both ; and 
 she rejoiced that her self-imposed exile had not been in 
 vain. All the little misunderstandings, the querulous 
 demands on her time and attention, and the capricious 
 and temporary neglect which had sometimes fallen to her 
 lot, were now at an end. It was, indeed, a keen delight 
 to her to find Chateaubriand resuming his old habits — 
 the morning note, the afternoon call, the hundred and one 
 little kindnesses and attentions which she had come to 
 value so much and to miss so sorely ; to be once more 
 the chosen confidante of all his hopes and fears, his 
 triumphs and his defeats, and to feel that her friendship 
 was even more necessary to his happiness than his was to 
 hers. 
 
 It was through Chateaubriand's influence that, a few 
 weeks after her return to Paris, Charles Lenormant, the 
 young antiquary, to whom her niece was betrothed, received 
 the appointment of Inspector of Fine Arts, a post which 
 carried with it a considerable salary, and enabled the 
 marriage to take place during the ensuing winter. 
 Madame Recamier, however, was spared the pain of a 
 separation from her adopted daughter, as the latter's 
 husband took a house close to the Abbaye-au-Bois, and 
 
 235
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 she was thus able to spend a good deal of her time with 
 her aunt, and dine with her every day. 
 
 In November of that year Mathieu de Montmorency 
 was elected a member of the Academy, a choice which 
 caused general astonishment — for the duke, greatly as he 
 was esteemed, had no literary pretensions whatever — and 
 was mainly attributed to the influence of "la Circe de 
 V Abbaye-au-Bois" " We owe thanks to Madame Reca- 
 mier," says Rondelet, " for having witnessed the Academie 
 Franchise return so appropriately to that ancient tradition 
 of good society, in which a great name passed as a serious 
 reason for competition." Montmorency was, it may be 
 observed, one of the last of the great noblemen to be 
 admitted to the Academy, to give that institution " a per- 
 fume of the lady's chamber," as Ballanche expressed it ; 
 and, perhaps, it was just as well for its reputation as an 
 intellectual centre that a time was not far distant when 
 the claims of literature were to be the only ones to receive 
 recognition at its hands. 
 
 A few weeks later Montmorency was the recipient of 
 another and far more deserved distinction, being appointed 
 to preside over the education of the young Due de 
 Bordeaux, a selection which was universally applauded. 
 He was not, however, destined to enjoy this honour long. 
 Since leaving the Ministry he had redoubled his religious 
 exercises and mortifications of the flesh, with the result 
 that his health had suffered. On Good Friday, while 
 kneeling at prayer between his wife and daughter in the 
 Church of St. Thomas d'Aquin, he suddenly fainted. 
 He was carried into the vestry, and from there home to 
 the Hotel de Luynes ; but had scarcely strength to receive 
 the sacrament ere he expired. 
 
 Mathieu de Montmorency was a nobleman in the 
 
 236
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 highest sense of the word. The sincerity of his religious 
 convictions in his later years was beyond dispute, his 
 honour unimpeachable, and his charity boundless ; while 
 it was his constant endeavour to influence for good the 
 frivolous society among which his lot was cast. His 
 devotion to Madame Recamier was beyond all praise ; and 
 it is, perhaps, not too much to say that it was in a great 
 measure owing to his unceasing vigilance that the some- 
 what pronounced flirtations in which she indulged in early 
 life never developed into anything worse. 
 
 Probably no more eloquent tribute could have been paid 
 to the wonderful fascination which Madame Recamier 
 exercised over men and women alike, and the unexception- 
 able character of her friendships, than the fact that Mathieu 
 de Montmorency's wife, like Madame de Chateaubriand, 
 had permitted herself to be relegated to a secondary place 
 in her husband's afFections, in spite of the fact that she was 
 passionately devoted to him. 
 
 " I only propose coming to Paris to mingle my tears 
 with Adrien's," 1 she writes, shortly after the duke's death. 
 " I shall at least make an effort to see you (do not doubt 
 it), but not at your residence. I am afraid I should not 
 have sufficient courage to mount those stairs of which he 
 has spoken to me so often. He was always in such haste 
 to see you ! He loved you so much. Ah, madame ! 
 make still greater efforts to join in Heaven him who has 
 so well deserved to enter at once into that blissful state." 
 In another : " You are so kind, to me ; he loved you so 
 much ; and you also loved him. Such claims appeal 
 direct to the place where my heart was — that broken heart 
 which beat only for him. I know not if I still have one ; 
 yet, when I think of you, I believe I have." 
 
 1 Adrien de Montmorency, Due de Laval. 
 237
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 A little later the widowed duchess sent to Madame 
 Recamier a packet containing the letters which she had 
 received at various times from her husband, as to one who 
 had a better right to these precious mementos of the dead 
 than herself.
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 Fall of Villele — He is succeeded by Martignac — Ministry of 
 Public Instruction offered to Chateaubriand — He refuses it, 
 and demands an embassy — He is sent to the Vatican — The 
 King and the "Journal des D'ebats — Chateaubriand's letters 
 from Rome — First impressions — A little ricevimento — His 
 opinion of English women — The tomb of Poussin — A New 
 Year's greeting — An Ambassador's day — An odd stranger — 
 A children's fete — Death of Leo XII. — A Pope's funeral — 
 Political confidences — Election of Pius IX. — A service in the 
 Sixtine Chapel — An Ambassador's expenditure — Chateau- 
 briand returns to Paris 
 
 Towards the end of the following year came the downfall 
 of Villele, for which Chateaubriand and his friends had so 
 long been working. Since the death of Louis XVIII. 
 Villele had occupied a most equivocal position, retaining 
 his post only at the price of compliance with the Court, 
 now entirely in the hands of clerical reactionaries, which 
 had compelled him to lend the authority of his name to 
 measures which his own judgment condemned. In the 
 autumn of 1827 Charles X., believing his Ministers to be 
 stronger in the country than in the Chambers, exercised 
 his prerogative of dissolution, with the result that the 
 Government was completely defeated, and the Opposition 
 in the new Chamber outnumbered the partisans of the 
 Court by more than three to one. 
 
 Villele had now perforce to resign, and although the 
 
 239
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 king was at first unwilling to choose his successor from 
 the majority in the Chamber, and even thought for a time 
 of violent resistance, more prudent counsels eventually 
 prevailed ; and he, accordingly, sent for the Vicomte de 
 Martignac, a member of the right centre, and the repre- 
 sentative of a policy of moderate reform, and directed him 
 to form a Ministry. M .rtignac urged that it would be 
 advisable to buy off the hostility of Chateaubriand by 
 including him in the new Cabinet ; and, much against 
 the king's wish, offered him the Ministry of Public 
 Instruction. 
 
 This post Chateaubriand was at first inclined to accept ; 
 but his friends declared such a subordinate office to be 
 beneath his dignity, and urged him to wait for a chance 
 of obtaining the controlling voice in the Council, which, 
 as Martignac's Ministry was generally regarded as only a 
 stop-gap one, and unlikely to satisfy either party, would 
 not be long in coming. In the meantime, as he had been 
 far more attentive to fame than to fortune and was in 
 embarrassed circumstances, they suggested that he should 
 apply for the first vacant embassy. 
 
 The king and Martignac, who felt that there could be 
 no peace so long as this stormy petrel of politics remained 
 in Paris, eagerly caught at the idea, and Vienna was offered 
 him. Chateaubriand, however, had set his heart on the 
 Vatican, where the salary was munificent, the society 
 congenial, and the duties comparatively light ; and nothing 
 less would tempt him to leave France. Unfortunately, the 
 Due de Laval, who had filled that post for some years to 
 his own and every one else's satisfaction, was by no means 
 disposed to surrender it, least of all to a man of whose 
 public conduct he so strongly disapproved ; and the 
 Government dared not go so far as to recall him. Thus 
 
 240
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 once again Madame Recamier found herself placed between 
 the opposing interests of two of her friends. She succeeded, 
 however, in pouring oil on the troubled waters ; and, for 
 the sake of his " dear, ever dearest," the haughty head 
 of the Montmorencies eventually consented to leave Rome, 
 and betake himself to Vienna, the climate and inhabitants 
 of which he cordially detested. 
 
 The way was now cleared for Chateaubriand, and he, 
 accordingly, prepared to set out for Italy. But before he 
 did so his friends in the Chamber insisted that the 
 Government should pay his debts. This request the new 
 Ministers were afraid to refuse ; but, as the first sum 
 given was insufficient, and Chateaubriand still lingered in 
 Paris, the king, in order to relieve them from the presence 
 of so dangerous a competitor, made up the deficiency from 
 his own privy purse. 
 
 This, it may be remarked, was not the only sum which 
 the luckless monarch was called upon to disburse at this 
 juncture, in order to buy off" the hostility of Chateaubriand 
 and his triumphant followers. At the beginning of his 
 ministry in 1823, Villele had subsidised the Journal des 
 DUbats — a journal which, as Lamartine ingenuously 
 observes, " did not sell itself, but condescended to receive 
 subsidies, which, without corrupting its opinions, remune- 
 rated its zeal and its services." When, however, Chateau- 
 briand was so ignominiously dismissed from office, the 
 Debats immediately repudiated its subsidy, in order that 
 it might be free to further the vengeance of its most 
 brilliant contributor. The king and Martignac were 
 fully alive to the importance of securing the support 
 — or, at any rate, the neutrality — of so powerful an 
 organ of public opinion ; and the former, accordingly, 
 sent for Bertin, one of the proprietors of the news- 
 
 24.I Q
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 paper, and begged him to be reconciled to the new 
 Ministry. 
 
 " This Ministry ! " exclaimed this Napoleon of the 
 Press, contemptuously. " It is I who made this Ministry. 
 Let it conduct itself properly towards me, or else I may 
 crush it as I did the last one." 
 
 The king was naturally much incensed at this boastful 
 speech, but he dissembled his anger ; and it was ultimately 
 agreed that the Ministry might count on the support of 
 the Debats provided that the subsidy was continued, and 
 what Bertin called his " arrears " — that is to say, the amount 
 that he would have received but for the defection of his 
 newspaper in 1824 — were paid. There were not sufficient 
 funds in the Ministerial chest to satisfy this demand, 
 which amounted to no less a sum than half a million francs, 
 so Charles had again to dip pretty freely into his privy 
 purse. 
 
 The king afterwards asserted that a considerable portion 
 of this so-called subsidy found its way into Chateaubriand's 
 pockets ; but it is only fair to the latter to observe that 
 this charge has never been corroborated, and, indeed, 
 seems in the highest degree improbable. 
 
 Chateaubriand remained at Rome until the following 
 May, during which he kept up a regular correspondence 
 with his friend at the Abbaye-au-Bois. His letters are 
 extremely interesting, if only for the light that they 
 throw upon the singularly complex character of the great 
 writer. 
 
 Vicomte de Chateaubriand to Madame Recamier. 
 
 "Rome, October 11, 1828. 
 
 " You ought to be satisfied. From every place in Italy 
 at which I stopped I have written to you. I have 
 
 242
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 traversed this beautiful country, so associated with you. 
 This association consoled me, without taking away the 
 sadness of other recollections, which I met with at every 
 step. Once again I have looked upon the Adriatic, which 
 I crossed more than twenty years ago, and in such a frame 
 of mind. At Terni I stopped to console a poor dying 
 woman. Rome finds me without any enthusiasm. As I 
 feared, her monuments appear to me coarse after those of 
 Athens. My memory for places, which is both astonish- 
 ing and painful, will not allow me to forget a single stone. 
 Alone and on foot I have traversed this great city of ruins, 
 without any longing save that of leaving it, with no 
 thought save that of returning once more to the Abbaye 
 and the Rue d'Enfer. 
 
 " I have seen no one except the Secretary of State. I 
 am going to have an audience of the Pope. Yesterday 
 evening, at sunset, in order to find some one to talk to, 
 I sought out Guerin. 1 He was delighted to see me. We 
 opened a window which commanded a view of Rome, and 
 together admired the romantic horizon lit up by the last 
 rays of the sun, which seems to me to be the only thing 
 which is the same as it used to be. Either my eyes, or 
 the things themselves, have changed, perhaps both. Poor 
 Guerin, who detests Rome, was so delighted to find that 
 I sympathised with his feelings, that he almost cried. 
 Now you have my exact history. 
 
 " Madame de Chateaubriand is no better. Left to her- 
 self in a great house, with not even a cat to say to her, 
 1 God bless you ! ' where she finds everything in this 
 bachelor's establishment arranged in the most ridiculous 
 
 1 Pierre Guerin, the historical painter, at that time director of the 
 French Academy of Painting at Rome. Among his pupils were Gericault, 
 Delacroix, and Ary Scheffer. 
 
 243
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 manner (boudoirs in the English style in a Roman 
 palace !), she bewails the day when she decided to come 
 here. Perhaps she will take more kindly to her new 
 situations when she begins to receive visitors. I do not 
 doubt that she will have a real success ; but her health 
 will always be an obstacle to a society life. Now you 
 have the whole truth. 
 
 " For the rest, I have been most cordially welcomed by 
 all the authorities on the journey — at Bologna, Ancona, 
 and Loretto. They quite understood that I was not an 
 ordinary man, but scarcely knew the reason why. Was 
 he a friend ? Was he an enemy ? In Egypt, the politicians 
 and the educated people took me for one of Bonaparte's 
 great generals, disguised as a savant. 
 
 " The end of all this is that you must come immediately 
 to my relief, or I shall very soon come back to you. I 
 have not received a single word from you, save a line at 
 Lausanne — nothing at Milan ; nothing at Rome. The 
 post arrives this morning. Will there be anything for 
 me r 
 
 Vicomte de Chateaubriand to Madame Recamier. 
 
 " October 14, 1828. 
 
 " Still no letter from you by yesterday's courier. Can 
 it be possible that you have not written to me ? In that 
 case you are carrying your resentment too far. Can any 
 accident have happened to your letters ? I will not repeat 
 to you what I have already said in all of mine. From 
 them, you will understand the state of my mind and heart. 
 Come quickly, or find means to recall me speedily. 
 
 " I have seen the Pope ! He is the handsomest prince 
 and the most venerable priest in the world. We had a 
 long conversation. He is full of nobility and gentleness, 
 
 244
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 and a thorough man of the world. I am enchanted with 
 him. The Secretary of State is a very able man. All 
 along the route I was overwhelmed with honours ; and I 
 have been remarkably well received here. . . . 
 
 " As to society, I know nothing at all about it. I pay 
 my visits by leaving cards. M. de Celles, 1 a very able 
 diplomatist and a most charming man, is the only person 
 I have seen as yet. Come then, I beg of you. Come 
 quickly, and write. Madame de Chateaubriand is not 
 at all well. I foresee that she is about to achieve that 
 social success which you have predicted for her. His 
 Holiness has spoken to me about her. I suppose 
 that you are the only one in Paris who gives a thought 
 to me." 
 
 VrcoMTE de Chateaubriand to Madame R£camier. 
 
 " November 5, 1828. 
 
 " We had yesterday, so the secretaries say, a very 
 delightful day. Not a member of the Corps Diplomatique 
 was missing from San Carlo, and, what has never been 
 seen before, the Pope himself came. I had Davidde for 
 the singing, so, of course, the church was full. 
 
 " In the evening we had a little ricevimento — regarded 
 as quite a French affair, because I have absolutely nothing 
 in readiness for receiving people ; but all the great ladies, 
 Roman, Russian, and English, came, and the cardinals and 
 the Prince Royal of Prussia. I tried not to forget any 
 artist, whether French or foreign ; and I also had invitations 
 sent to the commercial people, which my predecessors 
 have never done, and which seems to have been much 
 appreciated by them. There was a little music. I had 
 Davidde and Madame Boccabadati — that is to say, the best 
 
 1 The Netherlands Ambassador. 
 24.5
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 talent that could be procured, for I have borne in mind 
 what you said about poor singing. ... So I think my 
 first reception has been a success ; and I hope it will be 
 the last ; for you were not there. 
 
 " What am I doing here ? I can, no doubt, go through 
 with this life of outward display as well as any one else ; 
 but is it the life for which I am most fitted ? Have I 
 nothing better to do in this world ? If I have any ability, 
 is it not a pity that it is not directed into some channel 
 where it might be of greater service to my country ? or 
 rather, why does not Time pension me off? I am only 
 one of his old pensioners, who will soon cease to be a 
 charge on his treasury." 
 
 Vicomte de Chateaubriand to Madame Recamier. 
 
 " November 15, 1828. 
 " As soon as Madame Salvage arrived, I hastened with 
 Madame de Chateaubriand to call upon her, in order to 
 hear about you, and to see some one who has seen you. . . . 
 The Torlonias have given their first ball. I met all the 
 English to be found in the world there. I imagined 
 myself again Ambassador in London. English women 
 have the air of ballet-girls engaged to dance for the 
 winter at Paris, Milan, Rome, and Naples ; and who 
 return to London in the spring, after their engagement 
 expires. The stoppings of people on the ruins of the 
 Capitol and the general manners of good society every- 
 where, are very strange things. If only I had still the 
 chance of taking refuge among the ruins of Rome ! But 
 these ruins appeal to me no longer, and I only pass from 
 ennui to ennui. 
 
 " Shall I have a letter to-day ? I almost expect one. 
 You see how faithful I am in writing to you. . . . When 
 
 246
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 shall I be in my Infirmary s again ? and when shall I see 
 you every day ? " 
 
 Vicomte de Chateaubriand to Madame Recamier. 
 
 " November 20th, 1828. 
 
 " I have at last received a letter from you, dated the 
 3rd of this month, by a courier who has been delayed. 
 Imagine what happiness ! but, at the same time, what disap- 
 pointment ! A special courier reached me the same day 
 from the Foreign Office, bringing despatches of the 10th ; 
 and nothing from you ! Remember that a courier now 
 leaves every week from the Rue des Capucines, and that 
 this courier does the journey in seven days. The worthy 
 Henri Hildebrand will come to give you notice, and take 
 your instructions. When you have only time to send by 
 him these two lines, *I am well, and I love you,' that 
 will satisfy me ; it being understood that you are not to 
 neglect the ordinary post." 
 
 Vicomte de Chateaubriand to Madame Recamier. 
 
 "December 18, 1828. 
 
 "... Alas ! almost another year has passed over my 
 head. When shall I find rest by your side ? When shall 
 I cease to waste upon the highways those days lent me to 
 put to a better use ? When I was rich I squandered them 
 recklessly ; I thought the treasure inexhaustible. Now, 
 when I see how much it has diminished, and how little 
 time there is left for me in which to love you, my heart is 
 very heavy. 
 
 " But are there not long years beyond the grave ? Had 
 I but the philosophy of Cousin, I should describe to you 
 that Heaven in which I shall await you, in which you 
 
 1 His asylum for aged people at St. Genevieve. 
 
 247
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 will meet me once more, full of grace, beauty, and youth. 
 Poor and humble Christian that I am, I tremble before 
 The Last Judgment of Michael Angelo. I know not where 
 my future abode will be, but if it is to be where you are 
 not, I shall be most miserable. 
 
 " I have told you a hundred times of my projects, and 
 of all my plans for the future — the Rue d'Enfer near you ; 
 this is the only New Year's wish that I express on my 
 own behalf. Ruins, years, health, loss of every illusion — 
 all say to me, * Go away ; retire ; have done with it 
 all. 
 
 " It was your wish that I should do something to mark 
 my stay in Rome. It is done ; the tomb of Poussin will 
 remain ; it will bear this inscription : ' F. A. de Ch. a 
 Nicolas Poussin, pour la gloire des arts et Vhonneur de la 
 France? What is there for me to do here now ? 
 Nothing ; especially after having subscribed the sum of 
 one hundred ducats to the monument of the man you love 
 the most — after me — Tasso." 
 
 Vicomte de Chateaubriand to Madame Recamier. 
 
 " January I, 1829. 
 
 " 1829 ! I was awake, and thought sadly and tenderly 
 of you, when my watch pointed to midnight. We ought 
 to feel ourselves less heavily burdened as Time carries 
 away our years ; but it is just the contrary ; that which 
 he relieves us of is a weight with which he overwhelms us. 
 May happiness and long life be yours. Never forget me, 
 even when I am no more. I shall go to await your 
 coming. Perhaps I shall have more patience in the other 
 life than in this one, when I find three months without 
 seeing you of immeasurable length. 
 
 " I received this morning all the French people in 
 
 248
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 Rome. Madame Salvage dines, for the first time, at the 
 Embassy. I like that woman, because she talks to me 
 about you. I have also made a friend of Visconti, because 
 he always asks me when you are coming. ... A happy 
 New Year ! It will be happy, since in a few months I 
 shall be with you." 
 
 Vicomte de Chateaubriand to Madame Recamier. 
 
 " January 3, 1829. 
 
 " I renew my wishes for a happy New Year. May 
 Heaven grant you health and a long life. Love me above 
 all, and do not forget me when I shall be no more. I 
 have good hope of that, for you have never forgotten 
 M. de Montmorency and Madame de Stael. Your 
 memory is as good as your heart. I told Madame 
 Salvage yesterday that I knew no one in the world so 
 beautiful or so good as you. 
 
 " I spent an hour yesterday with the Pope. We talked 
 of all manner of things, including the highest and most 
 important matters. He is a most accomplished and en- 
 lightened man, and a prince full of dignity and grace. 
 To complete my political life, one thing only was needed 
 — relations with the Sovereign Pontiff ; that crowns my 
 career. 
 
 " Would you care to know how I pass my day, and 
 exactly what I do ? I rise at half-past six ; I breakfast 
 at half-past seven on a cup of chocolate, in Madame de 
 Chateaubriand's room ; at eight, return to my study ; 
 write to you or attend to business, when there is any — 
 the details for the French establishment and the poor 
 French are quite numerous. At noon, I dress ; at one, 
 o'clock I take a large cup of asses' milk, which does me 
 infinite good ; afterwards, I walk for two hours in the 
 
 249
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 Campagna with Hyacinth. 1 Occasionally I pay a formal 
 visit, either before or after my walk. At four o'clock, I 
 return home, and dress for dinner, which is at five o'clock. 
 At half-past seven, I go to a party with Madame de 
 Chateaubriand, or I receive a few friends at home. 
 Between ten and eleven, I go to bed, and always think of 
 you. The Romans are by this time so used to my 
 * methodical ' life that I serve them for a timepiece, as 
 I served your neighbours at the Abbaye. Now, is it not 
 true that I am a very tiresome sort of person, and very 
 different from the Due de Laval ? 2 Never have there 
 been so many strangers in Rome as this year. Last 
 Tuesday, the whole world seemed to be in my salon." 
 
 Vicomte de Chateaubriand to Madame Recamier. 
 
 "January 8, 1829. 
 
 " I must tell you a little story of my last * Tuesday.' 
 There was an immense crowd at the Embassy. I was 
 leaning against a marble table, bowing to the people who 
 came and went. An English lady, whose name and face 
 were quite strange to me, approached, looked me full in 
 the face, and said, with that accent which you know so 
 well, 'Monsieur de Chateaubriand, you are very unhappy ! ' 
 Astonished at such a speech, and such a strange way of 
 beginning a conversation, I inquired what she meant. She 
 replied, ■ I mean that I pity you.' So saying, she took the 
 arm of another English lady, and disappeared in the crowd ; 
 and I did not see her again the rest of the evening. Do 
 not be alarmed. This odd stranger was neither young nor 
 pretty. I was pleased with her, nevertheless, for those 
 
 1 Hyacinth Pilorge, his private secretary. 
 
 2 His predecessor at the Vatican. 
 
 250
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 mysterious words, which were in harmony with my state of 
 mind, and with what I have written to you. 
 
 " No courier has arrived to-day. This frequently 
 happens, now that the rivers and streams have overflowed. 
 Bear this in mind, and do not be uneasy if my letters are 
 delayed. Only, you will be fifteen days without receiving 
 any, and then get five or six at once. On Saturday ! " 
 
 Vicomte de Chateaubriand to Madame Recamier. 
 
 " January 13, 1829. 
 
 "... I have a little story to tell you. You know the 
 poor ladies of St. Denis ; they have been to a great extent 
 overlooked since the arrival of the great ladies of the 
 Trinita de' Monti. Without objecting to the latter, I have 
 ranged myself, along with Madame de Chateaubriand, on 
 the side of the weak. For the last month, the ladies of 
 St. Denis have been anxious to give a fete in honour of 
 M. Vambassadeur and Madame Vambassadrice ; it took 
 place yesterday, at one o'clock. 
 
 " Picture to yourself a theatre, arranged in a kind of 
 sacristy, the stage facing the church ; for performers, a 
 dozen little girls from eight to fourteen years old, playing 
 Les Machabees. They had made their helmets and their 
 robes themselves. They declaimed their French verses 
 with a spirit and an Italian accent which was the funniest 
 thing in the world, and stamped their feet vigorously in 
 the more sensational scenes. Among them was a niece of 
 Pius VII., a daughter of Thorwaldsen, and one of Chauvin, 
 the painter. They were wonderfully pretty in their paper 
 costumes. The one who played the part of the high 
 priest, wore a long black beard, which was both a delight 
 and a plague to her, as she had to keep on arranging it 
 with her little white thirteen-year-old hand. 
 
 251
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 " For spectators, there were ourselves, a few mothers, 
 the nuns, Madame Salvage, two or three abbes, and another 
 score of little boarders, all in white, with veils. We had 
 cakes and ices brought from the Embassy. Some one 
 played the piano between the acts. Just imagine the 
 delightful anticipations this f£te must have aroused in the 
 convent, and the recollections which will follow it. The 
 finale consisted of a Vivat in aternum, sung by three nuns 
 in the church. It is for you that I would like to live for 
 ever. I must close. You must be tired of my letters and 
 my insipidities. 
 
 " I have seen in the papers an account of my dinner 
 with Gu6rin, and the history of our monument to Poussin. 
 Adieu until Thursday ! " 
 
 Vicomte de Chateaubriand to Madame Recamier. 
 
 "Rome, January 20, 1829. 
 
 " My attention has been called to two articles in the 
 papers — one in the Quotidienne, the other in the Gazette. 
 The first says that I have become a Jesuit ; the second 
 insists that I am coming back to France — and that I have 
 written to that effect — to make an 18 th Brumaire. That 
 makes me laugh, and proves, at least, that people concern 
 themselves about me. You know that on principle I 
 never reply to the papers. 
 
 " Concerts are now all the fashion in Rome ; soon we 
 shall have balls. When all these calamities are over, 
 Lent will follow, and then Easter, which will bring me 
 back to you. I live only in this hope ; it helps me to 
 bear the burden of the days, very heavy indeed as far as 
 I am concerned. 
 
 "Above all things, take care of your health. Live 
 
 252
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 long, long years, that there may be some one in the world 
 to remember me." 
 
 Vicomte de Chateaubriand to Madame Recamier. 
 
 "Monday Evening, February 9, 1829. 
 
 "The Pope is very ill. I am sending off a special 
 courier to Lyons, to transmit a telegraphic despatch to the 
 Government. These two lines will be posted at Lyons. 
 I received this morning your letter of the 27th." 
 
 Vicomte de Chateaubriand to Madame Recamier. 
 
 " February 10, 9 a.m. 
 
 "The Pope has just expired. Is it not strange that 
 Pius VII. should have died while I was Minister for 
 Foreign Affairs, and that Leo XII. should die while I am 
 Ambassador at Rome ? Now my position is again changed 
 for the moment ; and my role becomes one of importance. 
 The death of the Pontiff is an immense loss to moderate 
 men. . . . 
 
 " This evening an attach^ will leave with a long letter 
 for you.'* 
 
 Vicomte de Chateaubriand to Madame Recamier. 
 
 "February 10, 1 1 p.m. 
 
 "... What do you think they found the poor Pope 
 doing last Thursday, before he was taken ill ? Writing 
 his own epitaph ! When they tried to divert him from 
 these gloomy thoughts, he said, ' No, no ; it will be over 
 in a few days.' 
 
 " Madame de Chateaubriand is quite ill, and has been 
 in bed for three days. All the Carnival pleasures are 
 over, thank God. No more dinners, balls, &c. The 
 
 •S3
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 English are leaving, and are going to dance at Naples and 
 Florence. 
 
 " I am going to have a multitude of couriers. I shall 
 take advantage of them, and you must do the same. 
 
 " I beg you will send for Bertin 1 and read him some 
 portions of this letter. Recommend him to praise the 
 Pope and Bernetti. 2 They could not have been more 
 tolerant or more moderate." 
 
 Vicomte de Chateaubriand to Madame Recamier. 
 
 "February 17, 1829. 
 
 " The Conclave, taking all things into consideration, 
 cannot last more than three months, and probably will be 
 much shorter. . . . Will it change all my political 
 destiny ? 
 
 " My mission, no doubt, increases my political impor- 
 tance every day ; but will it not furnish a pretext for 
 completing the Ministry, without ascertaining whether it 
 is agreeable to me, and giving me any Minister they 
 please — sure, as they will be then, that I shall not give in 
 my resignation during a Conclave, and that my duty will 
 compel me to remain at my post, even though boiling with 
 rage ? 3 But will they gain by that ? Shall I not tender 
 my resignation the day after the election of the Pope ; and, 
 after having rendered some important service in preventing 
 the election of an Austrian or fanatical Pope, shall I not 
 stand higher in public estimation ? 
 
 " Madame de Chateaubriand is more stormy than ever 
 
 1 The editor and proprietor of the Journal des D'ebats. 
 
 2 Cardinal Bernetti, Secretary 01 State to Leo XII. 
 
 3 La Ferronnays, the Minister for Foreign Affairs in the Martignac 
 Ministry, had just resigned. Chateaubriand, of course, hoped that the 
 vacant portfolio would be offered to himself. 
 
 254
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 To-day there Is trouble with the servants, and that in the 
 midst of my despatches, the death of the Pope, and Paris 
 political intrigues. 
 
 " I was present at the first funeral ceremony for the 
 Pope, at St. Peter's. It was a strange mixture of in- 
 decorum and grandeur. Singing, interspersed with the 
 blows of the hammer that was nailing up the coffin of a 
 Pope ; the light of torches, mingling with the light of the 
 moon ; the coffin, finally, raised by a pulley, and suspended 
 in the darkness, in order to place it above a door in the 
 sarcophagus of Pius VII., whose ashes give place to those 
 of Leo XII. Picture to yourself all this, and the ideas 
 such a scene suggests. 
 
 "... They have just brought me the poor Pope's cat. 
 He is entirely grey, and as gentle as his old master." 
 
 Vicomte de Chateaubriand to Madame Recamier. 
 
 "February 23, 1829. 
 
 " I am writing to tell you that the obsequies of the 
 Pope were concluded yesterday. The paper pyramid and 
 the four sconces were really beautiful, and reached to the 
 cornice of the church. The last Dies Irae were admirable. 
 Its composer is an unknown man, attached to the Pope's 
 chapel. To-day we pass from sorrow to joy. We chant 
 the Veni Creator for the opening of the Conclave, which 
 takes place this evening ; then we shall go every evening 
 to see whether the votes are burned, and whether the 
 smoke issues from a certain stove : and on the day when 
 there is no smoke, the Pope will be elected, and I shall 
 start to join you — which is at the bottom of all my plans. 
 
 " Pay attention to what I am going to tell you. If by 
 chance I am offered the portfolio of Foreign Affairs — 
 which I do not at all believe — / shall not refuse it. I 
 
 255
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 should go to Paris ; I should speak to the king, and 
 arrange a Ministry of which I should not be one ; but, in 
 order to attach my name to my work, I should make a 
 proposition which would be agreeable to you. I think — 
 and you understand my feelings — that it is necessary for 
 my Ministerial honour, and to wipe away the stain that 
 Villele put upon me, that the portfolio of Foreign Affairs 
 should be given me for a time. It is the only honourable 
 way in which I can return to the Administration. That 
 done, I withdraw at once, to the great satisfaction of all 
 candidates, and pass the rest of my days in peace with 
 you. 
 
 Vicomte de Chateaubriand to Madame R£camier. 
 
 "March 31, 1829. 
 
 " Victory at last ! After a sharp tussle, I have one of 
 the Popes on my list — Cardinal Castiglioni, under the 
 name of Pius IX. — the same cardinal whom I supported 
 for the Papacy in 1823, when I was Minister, and the one 
 who replied to me recently, and praised me so highly. 
 Castiglioni is moderate, anti-Jesuit, favourable to the 
 Ordinances, and entirely devoted to France. It is, in 
 short, a complete triumph. 
 
 " A few lines, that I am going to have dropped into the 
 post at Lyons, tells all this to Bertin; 1 but send for him in 
 case, by any chance, these lines should not reach him, for 
 it is necessary to take every precaution. Please send also 
 for the excellent Keratry on behalf of the Courrier. Give 
 him the information. It will be acceptable to him, and 
 useful to me. 
 
 " I am certain that the Conclave, before separating, has 
 ordered instructions to be sent to the Nuncio in Paris, 
 
 1 Editor and proprietor of the D'ebats. 
 256
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 directing him to express to the king the satisfaction the 
 Sacred College has felt at my conduct. What will the 
 Gazette say ? What am I going to do now ? No matter ! 
 I am going to see you ; that will be my reward and my 
 happiness. 
 
 " Yet after all I have never been so miserable and 
 worried as I have been during the Conclave. Everything 
 was, at first, against me. The French cardinals arrived 
 hostile and resolved not to set foot in the Embassy ; I 
 discovered intrigues and odious correspondence ; I con- 
 sidered myself thoroughly beaten. Well ! the cardinals 
 stayed with me ; they voted as I wished them to vote ; they 
 chant my praises ; so you see what it is to be under the 
 influence of your star." 
 
 Vicomte de Chateaubriand to Madame Recamier. 
 
 " Wednesday, April 15, 1829. 
 
 " I am beginning this letter on the evening of Holy 
 Wednesday, on my return from the Sixtine Chapel, where 
 I have witnessed the Vertebrae and heard the Miserere 
 chanted. I remembered that you had spoken to me of 
 this beautiful ceremony, and, on that account, I was a 
 hundred times the more moved. It is truly incomparable ; 
 that light which dies away by degrees ; those shadows 
 which gradually envelop the marvels of Michael Angelo ; 
 all the cardinals on their knees ; the new Pope prostrated 
 at the foot of the altar where, a little while before, I had 
 seen his predecessor ; that glorious chant of suffering 
 and of pity rising at intervals through the silence of the 
 night ; the thought of a God dying on the cross to atone 
 for the sins and infirmities of men ; Rome and all its 
 memories under the vaults of the Vatican. Would that you 
 could have been there ! Even the tapers, whose smothered 
 
 257 R
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 light permits a white smoke to escape — symbolical of 
 a life suddenly extinguished — appeal to me. What a 
 beautiful place Rome is, wherein to forget and despise 
 everything, and to die ! 
 
 " Instead of that, the courier to-morrow will bring 
 me letters, papers, anxieties. I shall have to talk to you 
 about politics. When shall I have finished with my 
 future, and have nothing more to do in the world than to 
 love you, and devote to you my last days ? " 
 
 Vicomte de Chateaubriand to Madame Recamier. 
 
 "April 1 8, 1829. 
 " The special courier, leaving the day before yesterday, 
 the 1 6th, carried you a very melancholy letter. I was 
 disheartened by yours. Yesterday, Good Friday, I thought 
 that I was going to die, like your best friend. 1 You would 
 have found, at least, this point of resemblance between us. 
 To-day I am quite well : I cannot understand this state 
 of health. Is it a warning to prepare myself ; and is death 
 touching me with the point of his scythe ? You will find 
 me greatly changed. I look a hundred years old ; and it 
 is a century of love that I lay at your feet." 
 
 Vicomte de Chateaubriand to Madame Recamier. 
 
 "May 5, 1829. 
 
 " . . . . I presented this morning my letters of credit to 
 His Holiness. As soon as the courier, whom I have been 
 told to expect, arrives, I shall leave matters to M. Bellocq, 2 
 and set out for Paris. Perhaps before leaving Italy, I 
 shall show Naples to Madame de Chateaubriand. The 
 mischief all this is that the first year of an ambassador's 
 
 1 Mathieu de Montmorency, who died on Good Friday 1826. 
 a First Secretary of the French Embassy at Rome. 
 
 258
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 establishment is ruinous ; and the entertainments I have 
 been obliged to give on account of the Conclave, and the 
 presence of the Grand Duchess [Helena of Russia] have 
 ended by ruining me. I shall leave Rome to enter a 
 hospital. Unfortunately, my whole edition is sold, my 
 brain empty, and my health impaired ; but then I have 
 not much farther to travel to reach the end, and there is 
 no necessity to load too heavily an old vessel on the verge 
 of being wrecked. 
 
 " I no longer reckon upon your letters, as, most un- 
 fortunately, you doubtless believe that I have left. I can 
 hardly get away for another fortnight. All will be 
 forgotten in the happiness of meeting you again, to part 
 no more." 
 
 Vicomte de Chateaubriand to Madame R£camier. 
 
 "Rome, May 16, 1829. 
 
 " This letter will leave Rome a few hours after I have 
 quitted it, and will arrive a few hours before me in Paris. 
 It closes this correspondence, which has not missed a single 
 courier, and which must form an entire volume in your 
 hands. Your own letters make but a very small packet. 
 My heart misgave me when I tied them up yesterday, and 
 noticed how little room they took up. 
 
 " I am experiencing a mingling of joy and sadness, 
 which I cannot express to you. For three or four months 
 I disliked Rome ; now I find myself once more drawn 
 towards these noble ruins, to this profound solitude, so 
 peaceful, and yet, so full of interest and memories. Perhaps, 
 also, the unlooked-for success which I have achieved here 
 has attached me to the place. I arrived here the victim 
 of prejudices which had been stirred up against me, and I 
 have triumphed over them all. 
 
 259
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 " To what am I returning in France ? Noise instead of 
 silence, agitation in place of repose, unreasonableness, 
 ambition, contests for place, and the struggles of vanity. 
 The political system which I have adopted is such as will 
 in all probability please no one ; and, moreover, I shall 
 not even have a chance of putting it into execution. I 
 would still undertake the responsibility of giving a great 
 glory to France, as I contributed to obtain for her a great 
 liberty ; but will they give me a free hand ? Will they 
 say to me, * Be master, dispose of all, at the peril of your 
 head ' ? No ; they are far from being willing to say such 
 a thing to me ; they would take any one in the world in 
 preference to me ; they would only admit me, after having 
 been refused by all the mediocrities in France ; and think 
 they were conferring a favour on me by consigning me to 
 an obscure corner of an obscure Ministry. 
 
 " Dear friend, I am coming for you, to bring you back 
 with me. Whether ambassador or not, it is there that I 
 wish to die near you. I will at least have a great tomb in 
 exchange for a petty life. However, I am going to see 
 you. What happiness ! " 
 
 Vicomte de Chateaubriand to Madame R£camier. 
 
 "Lyons, May 24, 3.30 p.m. 
 
 " On Thursday, at last ! My heart beats with joy at 
 the thought of seeing you again in your little room. I 
 have a letter for you from the Queen of Holland. 1 On 
 Thursday ! I dare not believe in that word. Only eight 
 days ago I saw the Sabina mountains, and now I behold 
 those of the Bourbonnais. From the Tiber to the Rhone 
 — to the Rhone, whose waves you brightened with your 
 childish smiles. On Thursday ! " 
 
 1 Queen Hortense. 
 260
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 Madame Ricamier's pleasure at Chateaubriand's return — His 
 interview with the King — Reading of Mo'ise at the Abbaye-au- 
 Bois — An awkward predicament — Chateaubriand goes to the 
 Pyrenees — Formation of the Polignac Ministry — Chateau- 
 briand returns to Paris — The King refuses to see him — Death 
 of Jacques Recamier — Madame Recamier goes to Dieppe — 
 Pere Lacordaire — The revolution of July — Madame Recamier 
 returns to Paris — Chateaubriand's position — He is sent for 
 by the Due and Duchesse d'Orleans — His interview with 
 Louis Philippe — And with the Duchesse d'Orleans — His 
 disinterested conduct — Benjamin Constant supports Louis 
 Philippe — His reward — His anxiety to be elected to the 
 Academy — His proposal to Guizot — His candidature — His 
 letter to Madame Recamier — He is rejected by the Academy 
 — His death — Mary Berry's description of his funeral 
 
 Madame Recamier's pleasure at the return of her friend 
 was as great as that of Chateaubriand himself. " M. de 
 Chateaubriand arrived here on Thursday," she writes to 
 her niece. " I have been happy in meeting him again — 
 happier, indeed, than I believed possible. . . . This morn- 
 ing I am expecting M. de Chateaubriand, who has an audi- 
 ence of the king, and is coming to give me a full account 
 of his interview. I see a number of people — M. Ville- 
 main, whom I find very agreeable, M. de Sainte-Aulaire, 
 &c. ; but it is M. de Chateaubriand's arrival that gives u 
 new zest to my life, which seemed to be wearing out." 
 
 261
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 The king received Chateaubriand very graciously ; but 
 he asked him rather pointedly when he intended returning 
 to Rome, and allowed him to see that whomsoever he 
 might select to fill the vacant post of Foreign Minister it 
 would certainly not be his representative at the Vatican. 
 
 Chateaubriand was, naturally, much mortified at dis- 
 covering how vain had been his hopes in that direction, 
 for it was one of the peculiarities of the great writer that 
 he never could understand the extent to which he was 
 disliked and distrusted by both Louis XVIII. and Charles X. 
 He was, however, in doubt as to which course it would be 
 advisable for him to pursue, whether to return to Rome, 
 or resign his post there and resume his place in the 
 Chamber. At length he decided to go to the Pyrenees 
 to recruit his health and await the development of events, 
 now fast hastening to a crisis. 
 
 Shortly before Chateaubriand went to Rome he had 
 completed a tragedy called Mo'ise> which he had been 
 exceedingly anxious to see upon the stage. Bertin, of the 
 Journal des Debats^ and other members of his party, how- 
 ever, had begged him for political reasons not to allow it 
 to be produced, and he had yielded to their persuasions, 
 though sorely against his will. Before he started for the 
 Pyrenees, Madame Recamier, by way of compensation for 
 his disappointment, arranged a reading of the play at the 
 Abbaye-au-Bois. The reading was entrusted to the cele- 
 brated actor Lafont, and a large and distinguished 
 company, including Cousin, Villemain, Lamartine, 
 Merimee, and many other well-known men of letters, 
 assembled to listen to it. The entertainment, however, 
 came very near ending in a fiasco. 
 
 Lafont acquitted himself very creditably in the first act, 
 but, unfortunately, he had not looked at the rest of the 
 
 z6z
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 play, the handwriting of which left a good deal to be 
 desired. The result was that he hesitated, stammered, 
 made several provoking mistakes, and finally declared that 
 the manuscript was illegible. Poor Madame Recamier 
 was on thorns, fearing an outburst of anger on the part 
 of her irascible friend ; but Chateaubriand, noticing her 
 anxiety, by a great effort succeeded in mastering his 
 indignation, and, throwing the blame on the manuscript, 
 took it from Lafont and read it himself. 
 
 In July came the news of the dismissal of Martignac 
 and the formation of the Polignac Ministry. Prince de 
 Polignac, an Ultramontane fanatic of the most dangerous 
 type, who had suffered a long term of imprisonment for 
 his share in Cadoudal's plot to kill Napoleon, and on his 
 return to France in 1 8 14 had refused to swear to the Charter, 
 because it granted religious liberty to non-Catholics, 
 became Minister for Foreign Affairs ; Labourdonnaie, 
 the champion of the reactionary Terrorists in 18 16, 
 Minister for the Interior ; and General de Bourmont, 
 who had deserted to the English at Waterloo, Minister 
 for War. 
 
 Chateaubriand, quick to perceive the disastrous results 
 which must inevitably follow the appointment of such 
 Ministers, and forgetting his own grievances in his loyalty 
 to the Crown, immediately returned to Paris and demanded 
 an audience of the king, in order to warn him of the 
 danger of thus wantonly provoking a conflict with the 
 nation. The king, however, refused even to see him, 
 whereupon Chateaubriand at once resigned his post at the 
 Vatican. 
 
 In the spring of 1830 Madame Recamier lost her 
 husband, who passed away at the age of eighty, gay and 
 good-natured to the last. Since the death of his father* 
 
 363
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 in-law and of old Simonard, which had taken place a few 
 years before, he had lived with his niece, Madame 
 Lenormant, and had dined every evening at the Abbaye- 
 au-Bois. His mornings he spent in the Chauss6e d'Antin, 
 his old business quarter, where he had a small office in 
 which he received his friends, whom, in spite of his 
 reverses, he still found means to oblige. On being seized 
 with his last illness, he had expressed a wish to be 
 removed to the Abbaye-au-Bois, where, tended with 
 affectionate care by his wife, he died on April 19. 
 
 " It would be difficult to find," says Madame Lenormant, 
 " in taste, temperament, mind, and character two persons 
 more dissimilar than M. and Madame Recamier. They 
 had but one quality in common — that of good-nature ; ^ 
 and yet, in the singular tie which united them for thirty- 
 seven years, there had never been the slightest interrup- 
 tion of their friendly relations. In losing her husband, 
 Madame Recamier felt that she had lost a second 
 father." 1 
 
 In July Madame Recamier transported the colony of 
 the Abbaye-au-Bois to Dieppe. Here she made a new 
 friend in Pere Lacordaire, soon to become famous as a 
 preacher and orator. He was then a young man of 
 twenty-eight, but already noted for his conversational 
 powers, and Madame Recamier found him a charming 
 companion. Chateaubriand joined her at the end of the 
 month ; but he had not been at Dieppe more than a few 
 hours, when he received news of the promulgation of the 
 fatal Ordinances, issued the very day he had left Paris by the 
 fanatical Polignac and his equally infatuated master. He 
 at once set out on his return to the capital, and Madame 
 Recamier, anxious for his safety and for that of her 
 
 1 Souvenirs, ii. 384. 
 264
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 niece, who had remained in Paris, followed him the same 
 day, accompanied by young Ampere and her maid. 
 
 They reached the city on the 30th, but found to their 
 astonishment that their carriage could not enter the town. 
 They were, therefore, compelled to leave it at the end of 
 the Faubourg St. Denis, and make their way on foot to 
 the Abbaye-au-Bois, through streets in which barricades 
 eight feet high had been erected. 
 
 The following morning Madame Recamier received a 
 note from Chateaubriand, who had been informed of her 
 arrival by Madame Lenormant. 
 
 "Jafy 31, 1830. 
 
 " I had just written to your niece to say that you would 
 arrive at the most unexpected moment. You see how well I 
 know you. I was carried yesterday in triumph through the 
 streets : I do not dare to go out to-day. Come, therefore, 
 when you are rested. Unfortunately, one cannot go 
 about except on foot. I have matters of the utmost 
 importance to talk about. I hope that I am going to 
 play a part worthy of you and of myself, but which may 
 perhaps cost me my life. You will understand what I 
 have to endure from the terrible state of alarm which 
 Madame de Chateaubriand is in. Sleep, and come to me 
 when you are quite rested." 
 
 Chateaubriand now found himself called upon to decide 
 between the two principles which throughout his political 
 career he had been vainly endeavouring to reconcile — 
 legitimacy and liberty. " My position is painful, but 
 clear," he writes to the confidante of all his hopes and 
 fears. " I will not betray either the king or the Charter, 
 either legitimate power or liberty. I can say nothing, do 
 nothing, but wait and weep for my country." He felt 
 
 265
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 that he could not be true to the one without being false to 
 the other. 
 
 The temptation to a man so ambitious as was Chateau- 
 briand to abandon the cause of the dynasty, whose repre- 
 sentatives had treated him with so much ingratitude and 
 contumely, must have been indeed a strong one. While 
 the declaration which was to change the office of Lieutenant- 
 Governor of the Kingdom into royalty was under discussion, 
 Comte Anatole de Montesquiou, a great friend of the 
 Due d'Orleans, called one morning at the Abbaye-au-Bois, 
 where he found Chateaubriand alone with Madame 
 Recamier. In the course of conversation he mentioned 
 that the duke and duchess were anxious to make amends 
 for the discourtesy with which the late king had treated 
 Chateaubriand, and would be delighted to see him if he 
 would go to the Palais Royal. 
 
 The latter was not a little surprised at Montesquiou's 
 advances, but he did not refuse, as he was glad of an 
 opportunity for pleading the almost desperate cause of the 
 little Due de Bordeaux, the legitimate heir to the throne, 
 in whose favour Charles X. had abdicated. 
 
 On reaching the palace, Chateaubriand was ushered into 
 the presence of the duchess, who received him very 
 cordially, and at once began to deplore the dangers which 
 threatened France, and to hint at the great services which 
 lay in his power to render to the nation at so critical a 
 juncture. 
 
 Presently Louis Philippe joined them, but, instead of 
 discussing the situation of affairs, as Chateaubriand ex- 
 pected him to do, proceeded to bewail the necessity which 
 had summoned him from the congenial pursuits of a 
 country life to take his place at the helm of the ship of 
 State. He assured his visitor that nothing but a stern 
 
 266
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 sense of duty had impelled him to meddle in politics, and 
 that he asked nothing better than to be allowed to return 
 to the peaceful existence which he had so reluctantly 
 quitted. 
 
 Chateaubriand, who was aware that the duke had in- 
 herited both Philippe Egalite's ambition and his duplicity, 
 was far from being deceived by this assumption of disin . 
 terestedness. He soon contrived to steer the conversation 
 round to the matter which had brought him to the Palais 
 Royal that day, and strongly urged Louis Philippe to 
 support the claims of the legitimate heir, and to content 
 himself with the office of regent during the young king's 
 minority. 
 
 While Chateaubriand was speaking he noticed that the 
 duke seemed very ill at ease, and studiously avoided 
 meeting his eye ; and he was, therefore, scarcely surprised 
 when, in reply to his appeal, Louis Philippe answered that 
 he feared events were too strong for him ; that the masses 
 would not be so easily satisfied ; that they might rise and 
 massacre the whole of the Royalists ; and that he must 
 now beg his visitor to excuse him, as a deputation was 
 waiting to see him. " I read upon his brow the desire to 
 be king," says Chateaubriand, and returned to Madame 
 Recamier, feeling that the cause of the Due de Bordeaux 
 was now quite hopeless. 
 
 Next day the Duchesse d'Orleans sent for Chateaubriand 
 again, and used every persuasion to win him over to her 
 husband's side. She reminded him of the sacrifices he 
 had made on behalf of the Bourbons, and of the slights 
 which had been put upon him by the late king and his 
 predecessor. She dwelt upon the great influence he 
 possessed over public opinion, and of the value Louis 
 Philippe attached to his services. And finally gave him 
 
 z67
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 to understand that, if he wished for the portfolio for 
 Foreign Affairs, her husband would willingly give it him, 
 while if, on the other hand, he preferred to return to the 
 Vatican, that post was equally at his disposal. 
 
 Great as must have been the temptation to yield, 
 especially now that it was obvious that no effort on his 
 part would be likely to prevent the Chambers from offer- 
 ing the crown to Louis Philippe, or the latter from accept- 
 ing the offer, Chateaubriand was proof against it. He 
 thanked the duchess for the high opinion which she 
 expressed of him, and for the flattering proposals she had 
 made him, but said that, as his writings proved, his whole 
 life had been devoted to the cause of the fallen dynasty, 
 and he must decline to stultify himself by countenancing 
 a usurper, even one of the royal blood. 1 
 
 Chateaubriand's refusal to accept office at Louis Philippe's 
 hands does him all the more honour as he was at this 
 time in serious pecuniary difficulties owing to his un- 
 businesslike habits, and the lavish expenditure which he had 
 incurred at Rome during the Conclave ; and is, therefore, 
 in itself a sufficient refutation of the charges of opportunism 
 which have been frequently brought against him. 
 
 The political changes of that eventful year, which 
 
 relegated Chateaubriand to private life, brought long 
 
 deferred advancement to another of Madame Recamier's 
 
 friends. Benjamin Constant had been one of the leaders 
 
 of the Opposition in the Chamber of Deputies, and had 
 
 written a series of exceedingly able pamphlets, denouncing 
 
 the reactionary measures of Charles X.'s advisers. He 
 
 was in the country whither he had gone to recruit his 
 
 health, which was much impaired, when the revolution of 
 
 July occurred ; but, at the urgent request of Lafayette, 
 
 Memoires d' Outre Tombe, ix. 351 seq. 
 z68
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 returned at once to Paris, and used his influence on behalf 
 of Louis Philippe's elevation to the throne. Honours 
 and favours were showered upon him by the new Govern- 
 ment. He was appointed President of the Legislative 
 Committee of the State Council, with a considerable salary ; 
 while the king made him a present of two hundred thousand 
 francs from his privy purse to enable him to settle his 
 most pressing debts, for his private affairs, like those of 
 Chateaubriand and many other public men of his day, had 
 been left to take care of themselves. 
 
 Constant had, however, set his heart on being elected a 
 member of the Academy, a position to which his great 
 literary reputation gave him an indisputable title. He, 
 accordingly, urged Guizot, the Minister of the Interior, 
 to expel a number of Royalist Academicians, as Vaublanc 
 had done the Bonapartist members in 1816, by which 
 means his immediate election would be, of course, assured. 
 Guizot very properly declined to follow so dangerous a 
 precedent ; and Constant, reduced to the chances of an 
 ordinary election, offered himself in the following Novem- 
 ber for the seat rendered vacant by the death of Segur, the 
 historian. Just before the election took place, he wrote 
 to Madame Recamier to ask for her interest on his behalf. 
 
 "I am going, madame, to ask you to kindly get M. de 
 Chateaubriand to promise to be present at the Academy 
 the day after to-morrow (Thursday). I have an excellent 
 chance of being elected, and I am told that the only 
 danger is that there may not be a sufficient number of my 
 friends present. So I am appealing to your influence 
 with M. de Chateaubriand, whose support is more 
 valuable than I am able to explain, and his presence most 
 necessary." 
 
 Chateaubriand gave Constant his support, but the rest 
 
 269
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 of the Royalist Academicians, hearing of the violent 
 measures the latter had suggested to Guizot, were much 
 incensed, with the result that the rival candidate, M. 
 Viennet, was elected. 
 
 Poor Constant's disappointment and disgust at his 
 rejection in favour of a person whose claims were so 
 manifestly inferior to his own greatly aggravated the 
 ccyftplaint from which he was suffering; and he died three 
 weeks later. High honours were paid to the memory of 
 the deceased statesman. A civic wreath was laid upon 
 the seat in the Chamber which he usually occupied, a 
 mourning crape was attached to the flag above the 
 President's chair in the Hall of Session, and nearly the 
 entire Chamber attended the funeral. " There never was 
 anything to equal the number of people who followed him 
 to the grave yesterday," writes Mary Berry to one of her 
 friends. " From nine o'clock till three there were eight cr 
 
 o 
 
 nine processions at a time crossing the Tuileries Gardens, 
 headed by tri-coloured flags, with his name and Liberie el 
 Droil written upon them. The procession reached almost 
 the whole length of the Boulevards ; nothing similar was 
 ever seen at Paris, except at the death of General Foy." ' 
 
 1 Miss Berry'3 "Journal and Correspondence," iii. 409. 
 
 XJQ
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 Retirement of Madame Recamier's friends from public life — 
 Consequent change in her own life — Her sympathy for sincere 
 political convictions — The Abbaye-au-Bois gradually becomes 
 a literary resort — Royalist rising in La Vendee, instigated by 
 the Duchesse de Berri — Chateaubriand and other Legitimist 
 leaders are arrested — But are soon released — Outbreak of 
 cholera in Paris — Madame Recamier's peculiar dread of this 
 disease — She goes to Switzerland with Madame Salvage — 
 Visit to Queen Hortense at Arenenberg — Hortense's adven- 
 tures in Italy — The Chateau d'Arenenberg — Its Napoleonic 
 treasures — Alexandre Dumas pere — His impression of Madame 
 Recamier — Queen Hortense's musical talents — Memories of 
 Malmaison — Chateaubriand's visit to the chateau — Louis 
 Napoleon — His character and pursuits — Madame Recamier 
 and Chateaubriand visit the grave of Madame de Stael — 
 Arrest of the Duchesse de Berri — Chateaubriand's pamphlet 
 in her defence — Announcement of her secret marriage to 
 Count Palli — Her release — Chateaubriand's journey to Prague 
 on her behalf — And to Venice — His letters to Madame 
 Recamier from Venice 
 
 The fall of the elder branch of the Bourbons condemned 
 to private life not only Chateaubriand, but the Due de Laval, 
 the La Rochefoucaulds, and indeed the greater number of 
 Madame Recamier's intimate friends. With it in con- 
 sequence begins a new era in her own life. During the 
 past sixteen years her salon had been, to a great extent, 
 regarded as a Royalist stronghold, more from the accidental 
 
 271
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 circumstance that most of her friends happened to belong 
 to that party than from any predilection on her own part; 
 for, as we have said, she made it a rule to ignore, as far 
 as possible, all political distinctions. The men whose 
 names are connected with the literature of constitutional 
 France were then but little known, and, with one or two 
 notable exceptions, such as Villemain and Jean Jacques 
 Ampere, either too poor to mix in society, or too proud to 
 frequent a salon so much affected by the chief supporters 
 of the Government, lest by doing so they should fall under 
 the suspicion of wishing to truckle to the party in power. 
 Now, however, the positions were reversed : the Jeune- 
 France party basked in the sunshine of prosperity, and 
 men, like Carrel, Cousin, Guizot, Mignet, Thierry, and 
 Remusat, were only too pleased to avail themselves of the 
 hospitality of so charming a hostess. 
 
 At first, the elder habitues of the Abbaye-au-Bois, 
 differing so widely as they did from the new-comers in 
 politics, and smarting under their recent defeat, were 
 inclined to resent their presence, and treated them with 
 considerable hauteur. But Madame Recamier, who always 
 had the highest respect for all sincere convictions, more 
 than atoned for this by the warmth of her welcome, and 
 allowed her Royalist friends to see that, though she might 
 regret the events which had driven them from power, she 
 was far from approving of their unceasing efforts to oppose 
 the national tendencies and cold-shoulder the national 
 leaders. One day, Madame Mohl tells us, the Due de 
 Laval was recapitulating what the revolution of 1830 had 
 cost the country. 
 
 " Yes," he said. " France has spent all this to get rid 
 of the nobility." 
 
 "And France," replied Madame Recamier, with a 
 
 272
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 smile, " does not think she has paid too dearly for 
 it." 
 
 During the first three or four years after the July 
 Revolution politics were the absorbing topic of conversa- 
 tion at the Abbaye, and party feeling ran so high that 
 Madame Recamier had not infrequently to intervene — a 
 task, which she invariably performed with marvellous tact 
 — to prevent things being said that might wound the 
 feelings of some of her guests. Gradually, however, 
 literature acquired more prominence, and after 1834, when 
 Chateaubriand had finally retired from public life, the 
 Abbaye-au-Bois became the centre of the most brilliant 
 literary society in Paris. 
 
 In the spring of 1832 the Duchesse de Berri, who had 
 followed the rest of the royal family into exile, landed at 
 Marseilles, and made her way into the ever loyal district 
 of La Vendee, where a rising took place in her son's 
 favour. It was easily suppressed, and the Government 
 caused Chateaubriand and three other Legitimist leaders — 
 Fitz- James, Hyde de Neuville, and Berryer — to be arrested, 
 on suspicion of having instigated the insurrection. There 
 was, however, no evidence against them, and they were 
 almost immediately released. 
 
 At the end of March the cholera, which had ravaged 
 both England and Germany during the previous year, 
 broke out with fearful virulence in Paris. Within a week 
 the mortality reached five hundred per diem, and the 
 cases to four times that number ; and in eighteen days 
 no less than seven thousand persons had succumbed to the 
 disease. Casimir-Perier, the President of the Council of 
 Ministers, Cuvier, and many other well-known persons 
 were among the victims. 
 
 By a presentiment which, as we shall see, was only too 
 
 273 s
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 Well founded, Madame R6camier, as a rule lavish in her 
 care of people attacked by contagious disease, entertained 
 an ungovernable and almost superstitious dread of cholera ; 
 and, as the Faubourg St. Germain, and the Rue de Sevres 
 in particular, was one of the quarters most affected by the 
 epidemic, she quitted the Abbaye-au-Bois, and took refuge 
 with her friend Madame Salvage in the Rue de la Paix. 
 This part of the city was suffering but little from the 
 scourge, which was confined chiefly to the left bank of the 
 Seine. 
 
 In August she and Madame Salvage set out for Switzer- 
 land to join Chateaubriand, who was already wandering 
 in the mountains. While there she received a pressing 
 invitation from Queen Hortense to visit her at her summer 
 residence, the Chateau d'Arenenberg, on the shores of 
 Lake Constance. 
 
 Since their last meeting in Rome Hortense had gone 
 through many trying adventures, and had lost her eldest 
 son, Napoleon. The Revolution of 1 830, which dethroned 
 the Bourbons, had excited insurrectionary movements in 
 several countries and among them Romagna, where a 
 rising took place against the authority of the Pope. Both 
 the young princes, in spite of the efforts of their relatives, 
 had joined the insurgents, in whose ranks their presence 
 had aroused much enthusiasm. An Austrian army, how- 
 ever, entered the Papal territory, and speedily suppressed 
 the revolt. Poor Hortense, who had been following her 
 sons in order to rescue them from their danger, found that 
 the elder had died of fever at Forli, and that the younger 
 was ill with the same complaint near Ancona, and on the 
 point of falling into the hands of the Austrians, who would 
 certainly have shot him without compunction, as he had 
 
 been specially exempted from the indemnity granted to 
 
 274
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 the majority of the rebel leaders. The devoted mother 
 nursed him back to health, and then carried him away, 
 disguised as one of her servants, and, after many perils, 
 succeeded in reaching French territory. The law banishing 
 the Bonapartes, however, was still in force, and the Govern- 
 ment of Louis Philippe would not allow them to remain 
 in France. They, therefore, crossed over to England, 
 where they stayed for some weeks, and then returned to 
 Arenenberg. 
 
 Queen Hortense had bought this estate in 1817 ror 
 sixty thousand francs. The chateau was a large, old- 
 fashioned house, perched upon a hill, and commanding a 
 superb view of Lake Constance, the Rhine, and the sur- 
 rounding country. The queen had greatly improved the 
 property, which had been much neglected, enlarging the 
 house and laying out flower-gardens and terraces ; while a 
 carriage-way from the high road to the chateau had been 
 made under the direction of Prince Louis, and carried over 
 a bridge, which he had designed after his engineering 
 studies at Thun. 
 
 The chateau was a museum of Napoleonic relics and a 
 gallery of family portraits. In the hall were several stands 
 of arms, containing swords, lances, muskets, Arab spears, 
 and Turkish scimitars, trophies of Napoleon's different 
 wars. In the salon was Gros's magnificent picture 
 Bonaparte at the Bridge of Lodi, Bosio's statue of 
 Josephine, and Prud'hon's full-length portrait of her. An 
 immense cabinet stood in one corner of the room, filled 
 with different objects that had belonged to either Josephine 
 or Napoleon ; a pocket-book, marked " J. and N.," in which 
 was kept the private correspondence of the Emperor and 
 Empress — letters written by the former from Marengo, 
 Austerlitz, Jena, and many another blood-stained field ; 
 
 275
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 Charlemagne's famous talisman, presented to Napoleon by 
 the citizens of Aix-la-Chapelle, and worn by him at 
 Austerlitz and Wagram, just as the King of the Franks 
 had worn it nine hundred years before ; the belt Bonaparte 
 had worn at the Pyramids ; the wedding-ring he had 
 placed on the finger of Madame de Beauharnais, and the 
 portrait of the little King of Rome, painted by Marie 
 Louise, the last earthly object on which the eagle eye of 
 the great captain had rested. The library contained a 
 portrait of Hortense's father, Alexandre de Beauharnais, a 
 handsome, swarthy man, who perished on the scaffold during 
 the Reign of Terror ; another, of the equally ill-fated 
 Murat, King of Naples ; and a third canvas, on which 
 was depicted the sombre visage of Louis, King of 
 Holland. 
 
 Among the guests whom Madame R6camier found at 
 the chateau, on the evening of her arrival, was Alexandre 
 Dumas, then a young man of thirty, but who had already 
 forced the doors of the Theatre Fran^ais with his Henri III. 
 et son Cour. He was staying at Constance, and had been 
 invited to dinner by the ex-queen. 
 
 The famous novelist has left us an interesting account 
 of his evening at the chateau. 
 
 " After dinner," he says, " we returned to the salon. 
 Ten minutes later Madame R6camier was announced. 
 She, also, was a queen of beauty and wit, and the Duchesse 
 de St. Leu received her as a sister. S I have heard many 
 discussions about Madame R6camier's age. It is true that 
 I only saw her at night, dressed in black, with her head 
 and neck enveloped in a veil of the same colour, but, to 
 judge by her youthful voice, her beautiful eyes, and her 
 soft round hands, I should have said that she was twenty- 
 five. And I was greatly astonished to hear these two 
 
 276
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 women talking of the Directory and the Consulate as 
 events they had witnessed.'* 
 
 Queen Hortense had, as is well known, great musical 
 talent, and composed many deservedly popular songs, one 
 of which, " Partant -pour la Syrie," her son Louis 
 Napoleon, on becoming Emperor, made the national air 
 of France. In the course of the evening one of her 
 guests begged her to give them some music, a request with 
 which she readily complied ; and, taking her place at the 
 piano, sang several songs which she had recently composed. 
 Presently Dumas asked her if she would sing him one 
 which she had composed during the Empire, " Vous me 
 quittez -pour marcher a la gloire" observing that it had 
 been his elder sister's favourite song. The queen replied 
 that she remembered the air, but had forgotten the words. 
 The novelist, however, said he recollected them perfectly, 
 and proceeded to recite them. 
 
 Vous me quittez pour marcher a la gloire, 
 Mon triste cceur suivra partout vos pas ; 
 
 Allez, volez au temple de memoire : 
 
 Suivez l'honneur, mais ne m'oubliez pas. 
 
 A vos devoirs comme a l'amour fidele, 
 
 Cherchez la gloire, evitez le trepas : 
 Dans les combats, ou l'honneur vous appelle, 
 
 Distinguez-vous, mais ne m'oubliez pas. 
 
 Que faire, helas ! dans mes peines eruelles ? 
 
 Je crains la paix autant que les combats : 
 Vous y verrez tant de beautes nouvelles, 
 
 Vous leur plairez ! — mais ne m'oubliez pas. 
 
 Oui, vous plairez et vous vaincrez sans cesse ; 
 
 Mars et l'Amour suivront partout vos pas : 
 De vos succes gardez la douce ivresse, 
 
 Soyez heureux, mais ne m'oubliez oas. 
 277
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 While Dumas was reciting these verses, Hortense was 
 heard to murmur, " My poor mother ! " and when he had 
 finished, she burst into tears. On recovering her com- 
 posure, she begged him to pardon her emotion, as the song 
 recalled sad memories. 
 
 " You know," said she, " that in 1 808 the rumours about 
 a divorce were beginning to spread. They had caused my 
 mother terrible pain, and when the Emperor was on the 
 point of starting for Wagram, she begged M. de Segur to 
 commemorate his departure in some verses. He brought 
 her the words you have just recited ; my mother gave 
 them to me to set to music, and, the day before the 
 Emperor left, I sang them to him. My poor mother ! 
 I can see her now watching the face of her husband, in 
 order to note the effect of the song which applied so well 
 to their respective positions. 
 
 " The Emperor listened to the end, and at length, when 
 the last note of the piano had died away, he walked up to 
 my mother. 
 
 " ' You are the best creature that I know,' he said to 
 her ; then, with a sigh, he kissed her forehead, and turned 
 away into his study. 
 
 " My mother burst into tears, for from that moment 
 she felt that her fate was decided. You can understand 
 now, M. Dumas, how many memories surround the song, 
 and, in reciting it to me, you have touched the most 
 sensitive chords of my heart." 
 
 Dumas hastened to apologise, and begged the queen 
 not to further distress herself by attempting to sing the 
 song ; but the latter replied that, though it aroused sad 
 memories, it also served to recall the great affection which 
 the Emperor had always cherished for her mother ; and, 
 turning to the piano, sang with great expression the verse* 
 
 *7«
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 which had so moved Napoleon that evening at Malmaison, 
 twenty-three years before. 
 
 When, a few days later, Chateaubriand arrived at Con- 
 stance, he was at once invited to dine at the chateau. 
 Hortense received him most cordially, despite the pro- 
 minent part he had taken in the overthrow of her family, 
 showed him all her Napoleonic treasures, and read to him 
 some extracts from her memoirs. The ex-queen talked 
 a good deal about her preference for a life of retirement 
 and her aversion to greatness ; and her guests were, there- 
 fore, not a little surprised to find that Prince Louis was 
 treated en souverain by his mother and the whole house- 
 hold. The prince was a grave, studious, taciturn young 
 man, very different from his generous and enthusiastic 
 elder brother, Napoleon, whom Madame Recamier had 
 known in Rome. He lived in a kind of pavilion, standing 
 apart from the rest of the chateau, full of weapons of 
 all kinds, books, and topographical and strategical maps. 
 Here he spent the greater part of his day, deep in study, 
 never going out until late in the afternoon, when he rode 
 or drove for a couple of hours. He was a superb horse- 
 man, and an admirable shot, both with gun and rifle, and had 
 won several prizes at the tir cantonal. His tastes were 
 artistic, and before Madame Recamier left, he sketched 
 for her a view in sepia of Lake Constance as seen from the 
 chateau, and inscribed his name upon it — that name which in 
 after years was to be attached to very different documents. 
 
 On leaving Constance, Madame Recamier and Chateau- 
 briand went to Geneva, and while there made a pilgrimage 
 together to the tomb of their common friend Madame 
 de Stael. In his Memoires d'Outre c tomb Chateaubriand 
 gives an account of this visit, written in his most polished 
 styk and with genuine pathos. 
 
 *79
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 " The chateau was closed," he says ; " they opened its 
 doors to me ; I wandered in its deserted rooms. The 
 companion of my pilgrimage recognised all the places, 
 where she still seemed to see her friend, seated at her 
 piano, coming in, or going out, or conversing on the 
 terrace which borders the gallery. Madame Recamier 
 visited the chamber which she had been wont to occupy ; 
 days long gone by returned to her ; it was like a repetition 
 of the scene which I have depicted in Rend. * I wandered 
 through the echoing apartments, where I heard only the 
 sound of my own footsteps. . . . Everywhere the rooms 
 were empty, and the spider was spinning his web on the 
 beds which had so long remained unoccupied. . . . How 
 sweet, but how fleeting, are the moments that brothers and 
 sisters spend in childhood's years, gathered together under 
 the wing of their aged parents ! The family of man is 
 but for a day ; the breath of God disperses it as a vapour. 
 Scarcely does the son know the father, the father the son, 
 the brother the sister, the sister the brother ! The oak 
 sees its acorns springing up around it ; it is not thus with 
 the children of men.' 
 
 " I recalled to mind also what I have said in my 
 Mimoires of my last visit to Combourg, when on the 
 point of starting for America. Two worlds, different, yet 
 united by a secret sympathy, engrossed the thoughts of 
 Madame Recamier and myself. Alas ! these isolated 
 worlds, each of us bore them in our souls ; for where can 
 two persons be found who have lived sufficiently long 
 together not to have separate recollections ? From the 
 chateau we entered the park. The early autumn had 
 begun to tinge and detach the leaves ; the wind died away 
 by degrees, and we could hear the sound of a stream 
 which turned a mill. After threading the alleys, through 
 
 280
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 which she had been wont to ramble with Madame de Stael, 
 Madame Recamier wished to pay her respects to her 
 friend's ashes. At some distance from the park is a 
 coppice, interspersed with larger trees and encircled by a 
 moss-grown and crumbling wall. This coppice resembles 
 those thickets in the open country, which sportsmen call 
 spinneys ; it is there that death has thrust his prey and 
 imprisoned his victims. 
 
 " A sepulchre had been built, in anticipation of their 
 death, for M. Necker, Madame Necker, and Madame de 
 Stael. When the last-named had been placed therein the 
 door of the crypt was walled up. The child of Auguste 
 de Stael was buried outside the tomb, and Auguste, who 
 predeceased his child, rests beneath a stone at the feet of 
 his parents. On the stone are graven the following words 
 taken from the Scriptures : * Why seek ye the living 
 among the dead ? ' I did not go into the wood : Madame 
 Recamier alone obtained permission to enter. I remained 
 sitting on a bench, before the wall of the enclosure, and, 
 turning away from France, fixed my gaze alternately on 
 the summit of Mont Blanc and on the Lake of Geneva. 
 Golden clouds covered the horizon behind the sombre 
 line of the Jura. One might have compared them to a 
 glory extended over a long coffin. I perceived, on the 
 other side of the lake, Lord Byron's villa, the top of which 
 reflected the rays of the setting sun. Rousseau was no 
 longer there to admire the scene, and Voltaire, also departed, 
 had never cared for it. At the foot of the tomb of 
 Madame de Stael how many illustrious persons, who once 
 frequented the same shore, but are now departed, returned 
 to my memory. They seemed to come seeking the shade 
 of their companion and fly with her to heaven, her convoy 
 through the night. At that moment Madame Recamier, 
 
 281
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 pale and in tears, emerged from the funereal grove, as if 
 she herself were but a shade. If I have felt, at once, both 
 the vanity and the truth of fame and of life, and also what 
 it is to be truly beloved, it was at the entrance of that silent 
 wood, obscure and unknown, where sleeps she who had 
 such eclats glory, and renown." 1 
 
 After her visit to Coppet, Madame Recamier returned 
 to Paris, leaving Chateaubriand with his wife at Geneva. 
 That autumn her niece's husband, Charles Lenormant, was 
 appointed by Guizot Assistant-Keeper of Medals at the 
 Bibliotheque Royale, an appointment which necessitated his 
 removing from the neighbourhood of the Abbaye-au- 
 Bois to the rooms assigned to the holder of that post in 
 the library buildings. This change separated Madame 
 Recamier from her niece, who had been in the habit of 
 dining every day with her husband at the Abbaye ; but, as a 
 sort of compensation, they, henceforth, generally spent the 
 summer months together, either at some country house, 
 taken by Madame Recamier, in the neighbourhood of 
 Paris, or on a small estate in Normandy, which belonged 
 to Charles Lenormant. 
 
 In October came the news of the arrest of the Duchesse 
 de Berri, who was imprisoned by the Government in the 
 Castle of Blaye. Chateaubriand, who was still in Geneva, 
 returned at once to Paris, and published his Memoire sur 
 la Captivite de Madame la Duchesse de Berri. This 
 pamphlet, which was a violent attack on the Government, 
 and concluded with the words " Madame, voire fils est mon 
 roi ! " cost its author a lawsuit ; but he was ably defended 
 by the famous advocate Berryer, and acquitted. In the 
 meanwhile the imprisoned duchess had given birth to a 
 son, the fruit of a secret marriage with an Italian noble- 
 1 Memoirs t d 1 Outre Tomk t x. %6l icq*
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 man, the son of the Marchese Lucchesi Palli. The 
 announcement of this union forthwith deprived her of 
 the sympathy of the majority of her supporters, and 
 a few months later she was released by the Govern- 
 ment. 
 
 As soon as she was at liberty she wrote to Chateaubriand, 
 begging him to go to Prague and break the news of her 
 marriage with Count Palli to Charles X. The ex-king 
 and the whole of the royal family were furious at the 
 mesalliance and its fatal consequences, and all Chateau- 
 briand's endeavours to reconcile them to the duchess were 
 futile. Scarcely had he returned to Paris, however, when 
 the duchess again wrote to ask him to meet her at Venice, 
 where she and her husband were living, and the chivalrous 
 old man at once started for Italy, though he knew his 
 journey was bound to be a fruitless one. During his 
 absence he wrote to Madame Recamier with his usual 
 regularity. 
 
 Vicomte de Chateaubriand to Madame Recamier. 
 
 "Venice, September 10, 1833. 
 
 " I wish so much that you were here. The sun, which 
 I have not seen since leaving Paris, is just beginning to 
 shine. I have rooms at the entrance of the Grand Canal, 
 with the sea both at the horizon and under my window. 
 I am dreadfully tired ; yet, I cannot help admiring the sad 
 and beautiful spectacle of a city so charming and so 
 forlorn. And then the twenty-six years that have glided 
 by since I left Venice to embark at Trieste, on my way to 
 Greece and Jerusalem ! Had I not made your acquaint- 
 ance in this quarter of a century, I should say hard things 
 about it. . . . Yours with all the sweetness of the climate; 
 so different from that of the Gauls." 
 
 a»3
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 Vicomte de Chateaubriand to Madame R£camier. 
 
 "Venice, September 12, 1833. 
 
 " I spent a very pleasant day yesterday, if there can be 
 pleasant days without you. I paid a visit to the Ducal 
 Palace, and saw those on the Grand Canal once more. 
 What poor devils we are in regard to art after all this ! I 
 have all sorts of plans in my head ; I am taking notes ; it 
 is for this reason that I do not give you any particulars, 
 not wishing to repeat myself. 
 
 "... To day, I am going to continue my course of 
 sight-seeing. I am impatient to behold the Assumption 
 of Titian. One comes across his masterpieces here on 
 every side. His colouring is so perfect, that, if one looks 
 at one of his pictures and then at the sky, one can hardly 
 tell one from the other. . . . 
 
 "lam devoured by those creatures who have also stung 
 you. Hyacinth is almost blind. 1 I lay at your feet the 
 most beautiful morning in the world, whose light is 
 streaming across the paper on which I am writing to you." 
 
 Vicomte de Chateaubriand to Madame Recamier. 
 
 "Venice, September 15, 1833. 
 
 "... I have written you often and quite long letters. 
 I told you that the notes I am taking prevent me from 
 entering into details. I run about everywhere. I go into 
 society ; what do you say to that ? I pass my evenings in 
 the company of ladies ; what do you say to that ? I wish 
 to see everything, know everything. They treat me won- 
 derfully well, tell me that I am quite young, and are amazed 
 at my stories about my grey hairs. Imagine how proud I 
 am, and how I believe in these compliments ! Vanity is so 
 
 1 Hyacinth Pilorge, his private secretary. 
 284
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 absurd ! My secret is that I did not wish to maintain my 
 reserve here, when I heard of Lord Byron's. I had no desire 
 to pass for the copy of the man of whom I was the 
 original. 1 I have converted myself into the ambassador. 
 
 " I have explored Venice in a different way from those 
 who have preceded me. I have searched only for those 
 things which travellers, who follow in one another's foot- 
 steps, give no heed to. No one, for instance, speaks of 
 the cemetery at Venice ; no one has marked the tombs of 
 the Jews at Lido ; no one has studied the habits of the 
 gondoliers, &c. You shall benefit by the result of these 
 investigations. ... St. Francis's Day will see me once 
 more with you." 
 
 At the urgent request of the Duchesse de Berri, Chateau- 
 briand undertook another journey to Prague to make one 
 more attempt to bring about a reconciliation between the 
 duchess and her relatives. But she had ruined her party ; 
 and the austere Duchesse d'AngouleTne was the only one 
 of the royal family who had any pity for her. Chateau- 
 briand returned to Paris at the end of October, reluctantly 
 convinced that the cause to which he had devoted the 
 greater part of his life was now irretrievably lost. 
 
 1 Chateaubriand always maintained that Byron was indebted for the 
 idea cf " Childe Harold " to his own Rene. He was deeply mortified 
 that the poet had not in any way acknowledged his indebtedness, and 
 looked upon himself p.s " a father whose son had disowned him as soon 
 as he had made a name in the world." 
 
 285
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 Termination of Chateaubriand's political career — A politician 
 rather than a statesman — He becomes a martyr to ennui — 
 Madame Recamier's efforts to interest him — His Me moires 
 cT Outre Tombe — Reading of the opening chapters at the 
 Abbaye-au-Bois — Great interest aroused by these readings — 
 Anxiety of people to be admitted — Chateaubriand's financial 
 embarrassments — He disposes of his Memoires in return for a 
 pension — Madame Recamier visits the Due de Laval at 
 Montigny — Louis Napoleon's attempt at Strasburg — He is 
 brought to Paris for trial — And is followed by Queen 
 Hortense — Madame Salvage at the Abbaye-au-Bois — Madame 
 Recamier goes to see Queen Hortense — The ex-Queen's grief 
 at the exile of her son — Her death — Illness of Madame Rec amier 
 — Anxiety of Chateaubriand and Ballanche — Baron Pasquier 
 lends her his house — Her recovery and return to the Abbaye 
 — Madame Recamier the originator of afternoon " at homes" 
 — Newcomers at the Abbaye — The most brilliant literary 
 coterie in Paris — Madame Recamier's devotion to Chateau- 
 briand — Sainte-Beuve's tribute to her unselfishness — Jean 
 Jacques Ampere — His affection for Madame Recamier — The 
 two Chateaubriands — George Ticknor's account of them — 
 The Abbaye-au-Bois the last of the old salons — Its charac- 
 teristics — Madame Recamier's marvellous tact in conducting 
 the conversation — Musical parties at the Abbaye — Made- 
 moiselle Rachel, the actress — Her romantic career — Her 
 avarice and kindheartedness — Anecdotes about her — Her 
 affection for Madame Recamier — Caroline Murat comes to 
 Paris — Pension voted her by the Chambers — Her death 
 
 Chateaubriand's return from his second journey to 
 Prague marks the termination of his political career. As 
 
 286
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 a statesman, he can hardly be called a success ; indeed, it 
 is doubtful whether he has any real claim to the title 
 at all. But, as a fighting politician, as a debater, and, 
 above all, as a pamphleteer, he has had few superiors ; and 
 in the troublous years between the restoration of the 
 Bourbons and the July Monarchy he was, undoubtedly, 
 the greatest force in French politics, equally dreaded by 
 his enemies when in opposition and by his friends when 
 in office. 
 
 Henceforth Chateaubriand was seldom separated from 
 Madame Recamier for any long period, with the exception 
 of his visit to England in 1843, and her thoughts were 
 constantly employed in giving an interest to his life. 
 This was no easy matter. The great writer had always 
 been subject to ennui. It was now a malady. Madame 
 Mohl tells us that she often heard him express a wish that 
 it would settle in his leg so that he might cut it off, as he 
 considered that contentment of mind would not be too 
 dearly purchased by the loss of a limb. 
 
 For some time past Chateaubriand had been writing 
 his memoirs, with the intention that they should be pub- 
 lished posthumously ; and one day Madame Recamier 
 suggested that she should invite a few of their most inti- 
 mate friends to the Abbaye to hear the opening chapters 
 of the book read. Chateaubriand, not unwilling to have 
 a foretaste of the judgment of posterity, was pleased with 
 the idea ; and, accordingly, invitations were sent to some 
 half-dozen of his contemporaries, and as many more of 
 the rising generation, from whose impressions he might b- 
 able to gauge the modern taste. 
 
 The experiment was a great success. " The readings,*' 
 writes one of those who were privileged to be present, 
 " began at four o'clock in the afternoon and continued till 
 
 287
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 dinner at six ; were resumed at eight and went on till 
 half-past ten. Not only did attention never flag, but no 
 one knew that he had listened between four and five 
 hours. Though the whole has since been published in the 
 Memoires (T Outre Tombe, those who heard the first reading 
 felt as if they saw but the dead body when they read it 
 in print. M. Lenormant, who officiated, was a perfect 
 reader. In some of the scenes, the tears that stole uncon- 
 sciously down the cheeks of one or two of the audience 
 (the younger portion) gave more satisfaction to the 
 author than all the well-turned compliments of his old 
 friends." l 
 
 The readings continued about once a week for more 
 than two years. Chateaubriand went on writing, and 
 always read what he had written to Madame Recamier 
 alone in the first instance. The audience rapidly in- 
 creased, and Madame Recamier was soon hard put to find 
 accommodation for all those who wished to be present. 
 Moreover, it required great tact on her part to make a 
 selection from the numerous applicants for admission, for 
 the Mimoires were largely political, and Chateaubriand 
 had, at one time or another, offended each of the great 
 parties. The Bonapartists regarded him as one of the 
 principal agents in the downfall of the Empire ; the 
 Liberals as an upholder of the ancien regime, and persisted 
 in identifying him with the other Royalist leaders, who 
 themselves had never forgiven him for the violence of his 
 attacks upon the Ministers of Charles X. It was, there- 
 fore, necessary to invite only those whose sympathy with 
 the author was sufficient to outweigh their party hostility, 
 or whose literary tastes were stronger than their political 
 sentiments ; but she triumphed over all difficulties, and 
 
 1 Madame Mohl's Madame Recamier, p. 85. 
 288
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 the readings became so much the fashion, that people who 
 cared nothing for politics or literature, fine ladies, dandies, 
 foreigners, whose knowledge of French was so scanty that 
 they could not possibly have understood half of what was 
 read, vied with one another for admittance. 
 
 For some years Chateaubriand's affairs had been in a 
 very unsatisfactory state. Nothing else, indeed, could well 
 be expected in the case of a man who, without any private 
 fortune, had the munificence of a grand-seigneur. Hand- 
 some as had been his official salary while ambassador at 
 Rome, it had been quite insufficient for his expenditure, 
 and he had contracted large debts, which were still unpaid. 
 On the fall of Charles X. he had very honourably re- 
 signed the Ministerial pension to which he was entitled, 
 and since then had been entirely dependent upon his pen. 
 He complained bitterly to Madame Recamier of his 
 poverty, but, though her anxiety on his behalf cost his 
 sympathetic friend many a sleepless night, she could not 
 for some time discover any way of freeing him from his 
 embarrassments. 
 
 It happened, however, that the booksellers, hearing that 
 the now famous memoirs were to be published at the 
 author's death, had begun to make proposals to him. 
 These were at first coldly received. No single bookseller 
 could possibly afford to pay the high price demanded by 
 Chateaubriand in ready money, for, as long as the author 
 lived, the publisher would, of course, have no opportunity 
 of reimbursing himself for his outlay. At length, how- 
 ever, a plan suggested itself to Madame Recamier, who 
 communicated it to some of Chateaubriand's Royalist 
 friends who were aware of his difficulties. She suggested 
 that a number of people should be invited to enter into 
 an agreement with one of the leading publishers to pay 
 
 289 T
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 Chateaubriand a pension for his life, part of it to go to 
 Madame de Chateaubriand should she survive him. The 
 publisher was to be the sole proprietor of all the memoirs 
 written or to be written, and, after the author's death, he 
 was to repay the subscribers out of the profits. This 
 contract was entered into in 1837, probably the first time 
 a man has sold his life in order to live upon it. 
 
 Chateaubriand abhorred this transaction, and often 
 referred to his fate as being worse than that of a galley- 
 slave, inasmuch as he was sold both body and mind : 
 indeed, so repugnant was the bargain to his pride that it 
 is very doubtful whether he would ever have been brought 
 to consent to it, had not the future comfort of his wife 
 been at stake. The previous year he had published a 
 translation of Milton, and this was followed by a life of 
 Ranee, the founder of La Trappe. With the profits of 
 these works and the sale of his house in the Rue d'Enfer 
 he paid his debts ; but he was compelled to make over to 
 the Archbishop of Paris the asylum for old people which 
 he and his wife had maintained for so many years. This 
 was a great trial to them both. 
 
 In the autumn of 1836 Madame Recamier, with 
 Ampere and Ballanche, went to visit her old friend the 
 Due De Laval at his country-seat at Montigny, where 
 he had lived in retirement since the July Revolution. This 
 was the last time Madame Recamier saw the duke, who 
 died a few months later, at the age of seventy. 
 
 On her return to Paris at the end of October, she 
 learned of Louis Napoleon's unsuccessful attempt at 
 Strasburg. The captive prince was brought to Paris for 
 trial, and was followed by his distracted mother. Queen 
 Hortense, however, did not enter the city, fearing that 
 her presence there might militate against her son, but 
 
 290
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 stopped at Viry with her friend the Duchesse de Raguse, 
 and sent her confidante Madame Salvage to the Abbaye- 
 au-Bois to enlist its powerful interest on behalf of the 
 unfortunate young pretender. Madame Recamier, ever 
 ready to hold out a helping hand to those in distress, and 
 touched by Madame Salvage's devotion to her friend, 
 insisted on her remaining at the Abbaye and occupying 
 her own bedroom, and promised to exert all the interest 
 she possessed in the prince's cause. This was not neces- 
 sary, however, as, a few hours later, they were informed 
 that the Government had decided not to bring their 
 prisoner to trial, but to banish him to America. 
 
 Next morning, Madame Recamier went to Viry to 
 comfort the ex-queen, whom she found overwhelmed with 
 grief. She had already learned that her son's life was to 
 be spared ; but the idea of his banishment to America was 
 a terrible blow, as she knew that she was suffering from an 
 incurable disease, and that their parting must be a final 
 one. Madame Recamier was much moved by her friend's 
 sorrow and the great change in her appearance. She did 
 all in her power to console her, but with little success, 
 and when she left she felt that she would never see her 
 again. 
 
 A few days later, Queen Hortense, with Madame 
 Salvage, returned to Arenenberg. The fatigue of the 
 journey greatly aggravated her complaint ; and when they 
 reached the chateau it became clear that her days were 
 numbered. It is sad to reflect that thev were embittered 
 by the thoughtlessness of the French Government, who 
 neglected to inform the anxious mother that they had sent 
 her son on a long voyage before landing him in America, 
 and that this was the reason of her not receiving news 
 from him. She was left in a state of cruel suspense until 
 
 291
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 the end of the following March, when a letter reached her 
 from Rio Janeiro, where the prince's ship had been 
 detained for a fortnight owing to a terrible storm. He 
 had not been permitted to land, and his only distraction 
 consisted in reading Chateaubriand's works, a set of which 
 happened to be on board. 
 
 The amiable and accomplished Queen Hortense died 
 on October 5, 1837. 
 
 In the meantime, Madame Recamier's own health was 
 beginning to cause her friends grave uneasiness. She 
 suffered greatly from insomnia and a troublesome cough, 
 which brought on a gradual wasting away ; and it was 
 feared that her lungs were affected. The anxiety of 
 Chateaubriand and Ballanche was pitiable to witness. 
 " During the worst part of her illness," says Madame 
 Mohl, " M. de Chateaubriand and M. Ballanche might 
 be seen walking in the court of the Abbaye-au-Bois, on a 
 cold winter day, watching the doctor as he came down 
 from her apartment into the court. They did not venture 
 to ring, lest she should find that they were anxious. M. 
 de Chateaubriand's beautiful white silky hair, blown about 
 by a cold wintry wind — his physiognomy the very image 
 of despair — formed a striking picture." 
 
 It was about this time that the following note must 
 have been written : 
 
 " I am bringing this note to your door. In order to 
 sustain my courage, I tell myself that everybody about 
 me is ill also. I was so terrified at not being admitted 
 yesterday, that I thought you were leaving me. It is I — 
 remember it is I — who am to go first." 
 
 And again, a few days later : 
 
 " Never speak of what is to become of me without you. 
 I have not done so much evil in the sight of God that you 
 
 292
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 should be called away before me. I notice with joy that 
 I am ill, that I felt faint again yesterday, and that I do 
 not gain strength. I shall bless God for this so long as 
 you persist in not getting well. So my health is in your 
 hands, remember that." 
 
 At the beginning of December, Madame Recamier's 
 friend, Baron Pasquier, who had been appointed Chan- 
 cellor of France, and had taken possession of his official 
 residence at the Luxembourg, offered to lend her his 
 house in the Rue d'Anjou, an offer which she gladly 
 accepted. She remained there until the spring, when she 
 returned to the Abbaye-au-Bois in a much more satis- 
 factory state of health. The doctors had ordered her to 
 the South ; but she could not bring herself to leave 
 Chateaubriand, to whose happiness she had become so 
 necessary that her shortest absences filled him with 
 despair. Whenever she announced her intention of 
 leaving Paris, poor Madame de Chateaubriand used to 
 hasten to the Abbaye to ascertain the probable date of her 
 return, and to implore her for the sake of the peace and 
 quiet of the Chateaubriand minage not to remain away 
 long. " But what will happen ? " she would ask. " What 
 is to become of my husband ? What is he going to do 
 if you stay away as long as you propose ? " 
 
 Chateaubriand's delight was great on her return to the 
 Abbaye. He came every day at half-past two, and read 
 to her whatever work he happened to be engaged upon ; 
 no one was admitted till four o'clock, when other friends 
 began to drop in. Until after 1830 it had been the 
 custom for people to call upon their intimate friends in 
 the evening, but as Madame de Chateaubriand was a con- 
 firmed invalid, and never went out at night, her husband, 
 during the last eighteen years of her life, invariably spent 
 
 293
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 his evenings at home with her. This, according to 
 Madame Mohl, was the original cause of Madame 
 Recamier receiving at four o'clock instead of after dinner. 
 Her example was soon followed, and afternoon receptions 
 became the fashion under the name of les quatre heures. 
 
 Amongst the new-comers who found their way to the 
 Rue de Sevres at this time, may be mentioned Alexis de 
 Tocqueville, the success of whose great work, Democratic 
 en Amerique^ had made him the fashion, Frederic Ozanam, 
 the critic, Louis de Lomenie, Charles Brifaut, Sainte- 
 Beuve, and Madame Tastu. A great many women writers 
 came to the Abbaye, but Madame Tastu was the only one 
 who became really intimate there, for Chateaubriand dis- 
 approved of women meddling with literature and had a 
 positive horror of bas-bleus ; and Madame Recamier, of 
 course, deferred to his wishes. He made, however, an 
 exception in the case of Madame Tastu, whose kind heart 
 and sound common sense probably appealed to him quite 
 as much as her sentimental verses. 
 
 Madame Recamier's receptions at the Abbaye-au-Bois 
 were now almost as celebrated as those in the Rue du 
 Mont Blanc had been in former days, and strangers who 
 saw her the centre of the most brilliant literary society in 
 Paris, concluded that it was now her ambition to charm 
 the poets and novelists of constitutional France, just as she 
 had once charmed the soldiers and dandies of the Empire 
 and the statesmen and diplomatists of the Restoration ; and 
 envied her accordingly. But they were wrong. The pains 
 which she took to gather round her all the intellectual 
 aristocracy of Paris, and to keep it there, were neither for 
 her own pleasures, though her tastes had always been 
 literary, nor for the gratification of her own vanity, though 
 she was not insensible to the homage so freely offered 
 
 *94
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 her, but for the benefit of the friend whose happiness 
 had been for so many years the first consideration of her 
 life. 
 
 With advancing years Chateaubriand's health had 
 become much impaired. He had long been a martyr to 
 gout, and at times his attacks were so severe as to almost 
 deprive him of the use of his limbs. In consequence he 
 was becoming more and more depressed ; and to keep up 
 his spirits was a task requiring constant and daily effort on 
 the part of Madame Recamier. 
 
 " Her whole existence," says Louis de Lomenie, " was 
 devoted to seeking the means to desennuyer this Louis XIV. 
 of literature, who was as ennuye as the great king 
 himself." 1 
 
 In order to effect her purpose, she pressed into her 
 service all the cleverest young men she could find. Did 
 any one happen to praise Chateaubriand in a book or news- 
 paper, advances were always made to him. Did she happen 
 to observe that any chance visitor to the Abbaye had been 
 able to interest the great writer, he was at once encouraged 
 to call regularly and made a friend of. To the success 
 of her heroic efforts Sainte-Beuve pays the following 
 tribute : 
 
 " Madame de Maintenon was never more ingenious in 
 
 O 
 
 amusing Louis XIV. than was Madame Recamier in 
 interesting Chateaubriand. ' I have always observed,' says 
 Boileau, on returning from Versailles, * that, when the 
 conversation does not turn on himself, the king immedi- 
 ately gets tired, and either begins to yawn or goes away.' 
 Every great poet, when he is growing old, is a little like 
 Louis XIV. in this respect. Each day, Madame R6camier 
 contrived a thousand pleasant things to interest and flatter 
 
 1 Nouvelle Biograpbie Ghieraie, x. 99 
 295 
 
 II
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 him. She got together, from all quarters, friends for him 
 — new admirers. She chained us all to the feet of her 
 rival with links of gold." 1 
 
 In this beneficent mission Madame R6camier was ably 
 seconded by Jean Jacques Ampere, whose brilliant wit 
 and entertaining conversation had made him one of the 
 most popular figures in Parisian society. Ampere, although 
 of a most affectionate nature, had never married, and after 
 the death of his father in 1836 he was left alone in the 
 world. It was on Madame Recamier, therefore — who 
 filled for him the place of the mother whom he had never 
 known — that he lavished all the wealth of affection which, 
 under happier circumstances, might have been reserved for 
 his own kindred. When in Paris he never allowed a day 
 to pass without visiting the Abbaye, always prepared at 
 her bidding to devote himself to the task of amusing 
 Chateaubriand and of inducing his friends to do the same. 
 
 Chateaubriand, in spite of his ill-health and low spirits, 
 could still at times be an extremely agreeable companion — 
 that is to say, to Madame Recamier and other intimate 
 friends. To the world at large he was a very different 
 person. The adulation of the public, who had insisted on 
 setting him upon a pedestal and bowing down before him, 
 had converted him, at first, perhaps, almost unconsciously, 
 into that most objectionable product of modern culture — 
 a poseur. When there were no strangers present, and he 
 was alone with people whom he liked and of whose good 
 opinion he was secure, he would unbend, relate entertain- 
 ing anecdotes of his travels and of the many celebrated 
 people with whom he had been brought into contact in 
 politics or diplomacy, joke and laugh like a schoolboy. 
 But did a stranger enter the room, all was changed ; he 
 
 1 Cause ties du Lundi, i. 107. 
 296
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 would at once resume the mask of a great man and his icy 
 stiffness of manner, as became one who had been Foreign 
 Minister, ambassador, and the author of the most widely 
 read theological treatise and the most famous political 
 pamphlet of the century. George Ticknor in his auto- 
 biography gives an interesting description of these two 
 different Chateaubriands. 
 
 May 28. (Ticknor meets Chateaubriand for the first 
 time.) — " He is too grave and serious, and gives a grave 
 and serious turn to the conversation in which he engages ; 
 and when the whole table laughed at Barante's wit, 
 Chateaubriand did not even smile ; not, perhaps, because 
 he did not enjoy the wit as much as the rest, but because 
 laughing is too light for the enthusiasm which forms the 
 basis of his character, and would certainly offend against 
 the consistency we always require." 1 
 
 June 16. (Ticknor is now on very friendly terms with 
 Chateaubriand.) — "The evening I passed delightfully at 
 Chateaubriand's, with a few of his friends — most of whom 
 were members of the House of Peers. He was in high 
 spirits, excited, and even exalte, and poured out a torrent 
 of rich and varied eloquence, which made me think 
 almost better of the language than I am accustomed to." 2 
 
 Madame Recamier's salon at the Abbaye-au-Bois was 
 one of the last which kept alive the memory of the ancient 
 order of things, the social habits for which old France was 
 so justly celebrated — one of the last of that long list of 
 brilliant coteries, with their grace, their charm, and their 
 wit, which, it has been well said, impressed their character 
 upon the language itself, and made it in many respects 
 what it is. People came there to see the mistress of the 
 house, and to meet those whom they liked and were 
 
 1 George Ticknor's "Life and Letters," i. 137. 8 Ibid. i. 140. 
 
 297
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 accustomed to meet, not to eat and drink, and flirt, and 
 exhibit the latest triumphs of modiste and milliner. In 
 those days it was still possible to have the best society 
 without vulgar display and lavish hospitality. Good 
 manners and good conversation were sufficient attraction. 
 The mistress of one of these old salons was once asked by 
 an English friend how she managed to keep out the bores. 
 She laughed and replied, " Oh y il riy a pas de danger 
 quand on n a pas deux cent mille francs de rente." The 
 Abbaye-au-Bois, indeed, was, in reality, though not in 
 name, a literary club, constituted, as the smaller French 
 clubs usually are, for the purpose of conversation, with 
 Madame Recamier as its president. 
 
 And what a president she made ! " Talking little, 
 listening much, judging with acuteness, presiding over 
 conversation with admirable dexterity ; questioning every 
 one with infallible accuracy on what he knew best ; 
 discovering how to make all merit exhibit itself without 
 offending any one ; having the consummate art of making 
 every one pleased with himself, and, consequently, with 
 her." Such is the account given of her by Granier de 
 Cassagnac ; while Madame de Genlis declares that no one 
 in the world had ever mastered the great art of listening 
 so thoroughly as had Madame Recamier, a qualification 
 the importance of which to any one who aspires to be the 
 queen of a literary court can hardly be over-estimated. 
 
 Certain customs were much observed at the Abbaye-au- 
 Bois — customs which, unfortunately for society, no longer 
 obtain. For instance, every endeavour was used to make 
 the conversation a general one, and tete-a-tetes, especially 
 those carried on in a low voice, which find so much 
 favour in a modern drawing-room, were considered the 
 
 height of bad taste, and rigidly discouraged. If, we are 
 
 298
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 told, any of the younger habitues took this liberty, they 
 received a gentle reprimand in a real tete-a-tete when 
 every one else had gone. 
 
 " Sometimes," says Madame Mohl, " a chance visitor 
 would come in ; occasionally, if a lady, she would sit 
 down by Madame Recamier, and, in a low voice, tell her 
 something extremely unworthy of so much mystery. 
 Meantime the circular conversation was going on, and 
 Madame Recamier could not attend to it. On one 
 occasion of this sort, after the lady had gone, she com- 
 plained of having lost the thread. Some one said of the 
 whisperer, ' no doubt it was from timidity.' ■ When 
 people are too timid to speak, they should be modest 
 enough to listen,' was her answer — which ought to be- 
 come an axiom." x 
 
 Another characteristic of the Abbaye was that Madame 
 Recamier disapproved of desultory, as she did of private, 
 conversation, and followed the tradition of the Hotel de 
 Rambouillet in keeping seriously to one subject at a time, 
 although there was a total absence of the affectation and 
 pedantry which must have so often marred the discussions 
 in the salon of the " divine Arthenice." There were no 
 Precieuses at the Abbaye-au-Bois for a nineteenth-century 
 Moliere to turn into ridicule. Madame Recamier loved 
 simplicity and detested exaggeration. 
 
 The visitors, of whom there were usually from six to a 
 dozen present, grouped themselves in a circle round 
 Madame Recamier, who sat on one side of the fireplace 
 and, so to speak, conducted the conversation. As a rule, 
 two or three of the habitues would stand against the 
 chimney-piece, and speak loud enough to be heard by all 
 present. The others would listen attentively, one of them, 
 
 1 Madame Mohl's Madame Recamier, p. 99. 
 299
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 perhaps, interposing now and again with some witty remark 
 or pertinent question. " If," says one of her most regular 
 visitors, " a mot was particularly happy, Madame Ricamier 
 would take it up and show it to the audience as a con- 
 noisseur shows a picture." She generally spoke very little, 
 however, and even if she knew an anecdote a propos of 
 something, would call upon any one else who knew it also 
 to relate it, though she herself was an admirable raconteuse. 
 For the most part she would listen and smile intelligently, 
 and from time to time throw in some observation to show 
 that she understood the person who happened to be 
 speaking. 
 
 When a new visitor came in, Madame Recamier 
 would, if he knew anything of the subject under dis- 
 cussion, immediately question him, that the company 
 might be aware of it ; otherwise he was expected to try 
 and understand what the conversation was about. From 
 long habit she knew what were the subjects on which each 
 guest showed to most advantage, and on these topics 
 she would start him. The rest was not, indeed, difficult, 
 for the guest, usually a veteran causeur, knew his forte 
 even better than she did, and seized the thread that led 
 to it. 
 
 If she fancied that one of those present had any special 
 knowledge of the subject and was too modest to speak, 
 she would, with a pretty air of deference, appeal to him 
 for his opinion, and thus encourage him to join in the 
 conversation. She had, indeed, a wonderful faculty for 
 drawing out the best that was in people's minds ; and 
 some, who, before they came to frequent the Abbaye-au- 
 Bois, had so little confidence in their conversational powers 
 that they could only be prevailed upon to express their 
 opinions in the presence of their most intimate friends, 
 
 300
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 soon learned to speak freely and intelligibly in general 
 company. 
 
 In 1838 Madame Recamier, who had after her first 
 year at the Abbaye lived in the small apartment on the first 
 floor, which Chateaubriand called " the cellule" took a 
 larger salon on the same etage, and received in it until her 
 death. Here she gave musical parties once a week, to 
 which she made a point of inviting any distinguished 
 foreigners who happened to be in Paris. She did not, 
 however, continue these parties for more than three or 
 four years, preferring, when her sight began to fail, to 
 confine herself to her own intimate circle of friends. 
 
 It was about this time that the famous actress, 
 Mademoiselle Rachel, first came to the Abbaye-au-Bois, 
 and at once conceived a warm attachment for Madame 
 Recamier. Rachel had had a most romantic career, and 
 was altogether an extraordinary character. The daughter 
 of one Abraham Felix, a Jew pedlar from Alsace, her child- 
 hood was passed in the direst poverty, and she and her 
 elder sister were forced to seek a scanty subsistence by 
 singing in the streets and cafes of Paris. Through the 
 kindness of a famous singing-master named Choron, who 
 gave them lessons free of charge, the girls were able to 
 gain admission to the Conservatoire, where, however, 
 Rachel soon deserted singing for elocution and acting. In 
 1838 she made her first appearance at the Theatre 
 Francais, in the part of Camille in Les Horaces, and her 
 remarkable gifts as a tragedienne being immediately 
 recognised, she speedily became the rage. Her features 
 were plain and her voice naturally harsh, but her facial 
 expression was wonderful, and by constant practice she 
 acquired such command over her voice as to be able to 
 vary its tones with every shade of thought and emotion. 
 
 301
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 Rachel was not the daughter of a Jew pedlar for 
 nothing, and many amusing stories are told of her avarice 
 and passion for " bargains." 
 
 When she was at the height of her fame and popularity 
 she noticed one day at a friend's house an old guitar. 
 She asked the owner to give it her, which he did readily 
 enough, for it was in such a dilapidated condition that it 
 would have been dear at a five franc piece. A few days 
 later it was the turn of one of those gilded youths who 
 are always to be found in the train of popular actresses to 
 notice the guitar, but this time it hung in a beautiful silk 
 net, through the bright meshes of which its dark back was 
 plainly visible, on the Wall of an elegantly furnished 
 boudoir. 
 
 " What in the world have you there ? " quoth the 
 admirer. 
 
 " That," said Rachel, in a sentimental tone, " is the 
 faithful companion by whose aid I made a few sous when 
 I was a poor little street-singer." 
 
 Forthwith nothing would satisfy the infatuated youth 
 but that Rachel should give him this precious souvenir of 
 her early struggles, which, with much apparent reluctance, 
 she finally consented to do in exchange for some magnifi- 
 cent diamonds and rubies which adorned the window of a 
 neighbouring jeweller, and which she had long coveted. 
 
 The happy possessor of the historic guitar, of course, 
 took it home, and exhibited it with pride to all his friends. 
 Unfortunately, one day the original owner of the now 
 famous instrument happened to call, and, on hearing the 
 romantic story, could not contain his merriment, and the 
 murder was out. The poor young man was furious at 
 the trick played upon him, but Rachel only laughed at his 
 credulity, and, needless to say, kept the jewellery. 
 
 302
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 Whenever Rachel saw anything belonging to her friends 
 which happened to take her fancy, she never had the 
 smallest scruple about asking them to give it her — requests 
 which few of them had the moral courage to refuse, 
 especially when they were made, as they often were, before 
 a room full of people. That versatile writer, Arsene 
 Houssaye, himself a sufferer from this form of her rapacity, 
 is responsible for the following amusing story. 
 
 One evening Rachel was at a dinner-party at the house 
 of the Minister of the Interior, Comte Duchatel, and ex- 
 pressed her admiration of a beautiful silver bowl, which, 
 filled with choice flowers, adorned the centre of the table. 
 M. Duchatel, thinking, or pretending to think, that it was 
 the flowers that she admired, immediately lent forward, 
 despoiled the bowl of its fragrant contents, and offered 
 them to the young actress. But he was not to get off so 
 cheaply. 
 
 " Oh, it was not the flowers, but the bowl I admired 
 so much," exclaimed Rachel, with a demure smile. 
 
 The unfortunate Minister, with the eyes of the whole 
 table upon him, had no alternative but to beg her accept- 
 ance of the bowl as well. 
 
 " Monsieur le Comte," was the answer, " your roses 
 and violets bring joy to my heart, but your centre-piece 
 will be the glory and wonder of my dining-room." 
 
 The poor Count had his revenge later in the evening. 
 Rachel had arrived in a cab, and her host had offered her 
 his brougham to take her home. When the carriage was 
 announced, he accompanied her to the head of the staircase 
 himself. 
 
 " Mademoiselle," he said, with a sarcastic smile, " I have 
 been much honoured by your acceptance of my bowl, but 
 you will let me have my brougham back, will you not ? 
 
 3°3
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 In spite of her acquisitiveness, however, Rachel had a 
 warm heart, and was ever ready to hold out a helping 
 hand to struggling genius. On one occasion a young 
 man in very poor circumstances, whom she knew to have 
 talent, wrote a play and sent it to the Theatre Francais, by 
 which it was promptly rejected, probably without being 
 read. Rachel, hearing of his disappointment, asked him 
 to call upon her, and, when he did so, told him that 
 she had a wealthy English friend who had a passion 
 for collecting rejected manuscripts, and had commissioned 
 her to purchase his if he would sell it, at the same time 
 naming a liberal price. The offer was, of course, gratefully 
 accepted by the unsuccessful playwright, and Rachel had 
 the manuscript beautifully bound, and placed it in her 
 private library. 
 
 Rachel's popularity in society was immense, and no 
 actress had ever before been so much sought after by 
 fashionable hostesses. She soon, however, got tired of 
 her successes in high life and, after a time, the salons of 
 the Faubourg St. Germain knew her no more. But to 
 Madame Recamier she was always faithful, and never 
 undertook a new part without having given the first 
 recital at the Abbaye-au-Bois. On one of these occasions 
 an old lady, who was extremely anxious to hear the famous 
 tragedienne recite, owing to some accident or other, did 
 not arrive until the conclusion of the first act. Madame 
 Recamier happening to speak of her friend's disappoint- 
 ment to Rachel, the good-natured actress at once 
 volunteered to begin over again, and did so, much to 
 the old lady's surprise and delight. 
 
 In the summer of 1838 Caroline Murat came to Paris 
 to press her claims for compensation on the French 
 Government. She had at last succeeded in obtaining 
 
 304
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 permission from the Powers to reside in Italy, and was 
 now living at Florence. She had certainly chosen her 
 time well. The constitutional monarchy had replaced the 
 statue of Napoleon on the top of the Vendome column, 
 from which it had been removed by the restored 
 Bourbons ; the Arc de Triomphe had just been com- 
 pleted ; the Chambers were on the point of voting a large 
 sum for the erection of a tomb for Napoleon beneath the 
 gilded dome of the Invalides, and a demand was about 
 to be addressed to England for the ashes of the great 
 commander. 
 
 During her stay in Paris the ex-queen spent a good 
 deal of her time at the Abbaye-au-Bois, where she had 
 the opportunity of meeting several members of the Govern- 
 ment, and of exercising her still considerable powers of 
 fascination upon them. Possibly these meetings were not 
 without their effect on the decision of the Chambers to 
 confer a pension of one hundred thousand francs upon the 
 " Comtesse de Lipona." 
 
 Poor Madame Murat did not, however, profit much by 
 this tardy liberality, as she died a few months after her 
 return to Florence. 
 
 305
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 Madame Recamier goes to Ems — Trial of Louis Napoleon 
 for his attempt ?r Boulogne — Madame Recamier visits him at 
 the conciergerie — His letter to her from Ham — Disastrous 
 floods at Lyons — Madame Recamier's soiree musicale at the 
 Abbaye-au-Bois — Her beauty in old age — Ballanche elected 
 to the Academy — His gratitude to Madame Recamier — 
 Chateaubriand's visit to the Comte de Chambord in London — 
 His letters — Madame Re'camier goes to Auteuil — Madame 
 Guizot and Chateaubriand — Madame Recamier's habits — 
 Chateaubriand's journey to Venice — Blindness of Madame 
 Recamier — Accident to Chateaubriand — Illness and death of 
 Ballanche — An offer of marriage from Chateaubriand — The 
 Revolution of February — Chateaubriand's illness — The June 
 insurrection — Death of Chateaubriand 
 
 In the summer of 1840 Madame Recamier was ordered 
 
 by her doctors to Ems. She undertook the journey with 
 
 great reluctance, for she knew how necessary she had 
 
 become to Chateaubriand and Ballanche, both of whom 
 
 were growing infirm ; and it was only the hope that she 
 
 might gain sufficient benefit from the waters to enable 
 
 her to continue her self-imposed task of consoling their 
 
 declining years that induced her to leave them for a few 
 
 weeks. " Time steals from me every day an eye, an ear, 
 
 a hand," writes Chateaubriand. "Were it not for you, 
 
 beautiful and dear one, I should regret having lingered so 
 
 long under the sun." 
 
 306
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 On her return to Paris she found that the irrepressible 
 Louis Napoleon was about to be tried by the Chamber of 
 Peers for his ridiculous attempt at Boulogne. Although 
 Madame Recamier had not kept up any personal relations 
 with the prince since her visit to Arenenberg in 1832, it 
 was thought that she might have been made aware of his 
 designs through their common friend Madame Salvage ; 
 and she was, accordingly, summoned as a witness, and 
 interrogated by her friend Baron Pasquier, the Chancellor. 
 Her evidence, however, was of no importance. 
 
 The trial lasted a week. The prince was eloquently 
 defended by Berryer, but was condemned to perpetual 
 imprisonment in a fortress ; while his companions, among 
 whom was old Comte de Montholon, who had shared the 
 Emperor's exile at St. Helena, were sentenced to various 
 terms of detention. 
 
 Louis Napoleon preserved his imperturbability through- 
 out the trial, and when the officers of the Court of Peers 
 entered his cell, and read the decree which consigned him 
 to a prison for the remainder of his days, bowed calmly, 
 and answered, "At any rate, messieurs, I shall die in 
 France.*' 
 
 Alexandre Dumas describes Nogent Saint-Laurent as 
 entering the prince's cell before the officials arrived. 
 
 " You are condemned to perpetual imprisonment, mon- 
 seigneur," he said. 
 
 " How long does perpetuity last in France, M. Saint- 
 Laurent ?" inquired the prince, with a quiet smile. 
 
 Madame Recamier, both for his dead mother's sake and 
 his own, was much interested in Louis Napoleon T s fate. 
 Misfortune, especially when allied with courage, always 
 strongly appealed to her sympathies, and there was 
 certainly something of nobility in the fortitude with which 
 
 307
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 the young prince pursued the course he had marked out 
 for himself in the face of, apparently, insurmountable 
 obstacles. She accordingly solicited and obtained per- 
 mission to visit him at the Conciergerie. 
 
 The prince appeared much touched by her attention, 
 and when she left escorted her as far as the sentinels 
 would permit. Nor did he forget the visit he had 
 received, for two years later he sent her from his prison 
 at Ham his pamphlet, Fragments Historiques 1688 et 1830, 
 as a mark of grateful remembrance. For this she wrote 
 to thank him, and received in reply the following letter : 
 
 Prince Louis Napoleon to Madame Recamier. 
 
 "Citadel of Ham, June 9, 1842. 
 
 " Madame, — It was extremely kind of you to take the 
 trouble to acknowledge the pamphlet which I took the 
 liberty of sending you. I have for a long time wished to 
 thank you, madame, for the welcome visit which you so 
 kindly paid me at the Conciergerie. I have remembered 
 it with deep gratitude, and I am happy that this gives me 
 the opportunity of expressing my grateful feelings. 
 
 " I shall be greatly obliged, madame, if you will hand 
 the enclosed letter to M. de Chateaubriand, whose 
 benevolent interest has deeply touched me. You are so 
 accustomed to make all those around you happy, that you 
 will not be astonished at the pleasure I have experienced 
 in receiving a proof of your sympathy, and in learning 
 that you were disposed to pity my troubles. 
 
 " Believe me, Madame, 
 
 " Very respectfully yours, 
 "Louis Napoleon B." 
 
 The letter to Chateaubriand, who had also visited him 
 
 308
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 at the Conciergerie, was couched in the most flattering 
 terms, and contained a request that he would give him 
 the benefit of his advice with regard to a history of 
 Charlemagne, which the prince proposed writing. 
 
 Chateaubriand, it may be remarked, appears to have 
 formed a very high opinion of Louis Napoleon's character 
 and capabilities — possibly he was not insensible to the 
 deference with which the prince treated him — and, in 
 acknowledging the receipt of the latter's pamphlet, 
 Reveries politiques, we find him going so far as to declare 
 that " if God, in his impenetrable designs, had rejected the 
 race of St. Louis, if our country had to return to an 
 election which she had not sanctioned, and if her manners 
 did not render republican institutions impossible — then, 
 prince, there is no name which befits the glory of France 
 better than yours." 1 
 
 Chateaubriand, in penning these lines, was only antici- 
 pating by a few years the verdict of no inconsiderable 
 number of his own party ; indeed, Louis Napoleon was 
 just one of those men of whom it may be said, as Tacitus 
 said of Galba, that they were universally considered as 
 qualified to rule until they attempted to govern. 
 
 When, in 1848, Louis Napoleon returned to Paris, as 
 a member of the Chamber of Deputies, one of the first 
 visits which he paid was to the Abbaye-au-Bois. It 
 happened, however, to be just after Chateaubriand's death, 
 and Madame Recamier was too unwell to receive any one ; 
 and, so, she and the prince never met again. 
 
 The winter of 1840-41 was marked by a terrible 
 disaster — the overflowing of the Rhone and Saone, which 
 brought ruin and misery to numbers of unfortunate 
 
 1 Jerrold's "Life of Napoleon III." i. 280 ; and Mimoires d' Outre 
 tombe, x. 268. 
 
 309
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 people at Lyons. In Paris intense sympathy was felt for 
 the sufferers, and special performances at the theatres and 
 many private entertainments were given to swell the funds 
 which were being opened for their benefit. Madame 
 Recamier, full of pity for the misfortunes of her native 
 city, organised a soiree musicale at the Abbaye-au-Bois. 
 The price of admission was fixed at twenty francs, but so 
 great was the desire to see this celebrated leader of society 
 in her humble home, that as much as a hundred francs 
 was given for a single ticket. Lady Byron, who was 
 passing through Paris, gave this sum for one which she 
 did not use, but she made it an excuse for calling on more 
 than one occasion at the Abbaye, where Madame Recamier 
 was much interested in the lady who had become so 
 notorious through her connection with the ill-starred 
 poet. 
 
 The soiree was an immense success, both from a charit- 
 able and a social point of view. Rachel, Pauline Viardot- 
 Garcia, Rubini, Lablache, and other famous artistes gave 
 their services, and the rooms were filled to overflowing 
 with all that was most distinguished in Parisian society. 
 So great was the crowd that the grand salon, in which a 
 stage had been erected for the artistes, could only be 
 reached with great difficulty, and when the Turkish 
 Ambassador, Reschid Pacha, arrived, a place had to be 
 assigned him on the first step of the stage, as it was im- 
 possible to find him any other seat. There he sat amidst 
 a mass of lace and flowers, a striking and picturesque 
 figure, with his long white beard and fine head, right at 
 the feet of Rachel, who was just beginning her role of 
 Esther, not yet performed at the theatre. At that 
 moment, a stranger, who was asking the names of all the 
 celebrities, inquired of a well-known wag that of the 
 
 31c
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 imposing-looking old gentleman on the stage steps. 
 11 Why, don't you see, it is Mordecai, of course?" was the 
 reply. The entertainment realised no less than four 
 thousand three hundred and ninety francs, a sum which 
 could, of course, have been largely increased, had it been 
 possible to find acccommodation for all those who wished 
 to be present. 
 
 Although on this occasion some of the most beautiful 
 women in Paris were congregated in her salon, it was the 
 general opinion that Madame Recamier eclipsed them all. 
 Madame Recamier never really knew old age. Of 
 course, as the years passed by, she lost the bloom of 
 youth, and, moreover, acquired a slight stoop ; but she 
 always retained the rare beauty of the smile which had 
 won so many hearts, and the singular grace which dis- 
 tinguished her every movement, and which was one of her 
 greatest charms. She concealed her hair, which had turned 
 grey in 1824 at Rome, under a cap, but otherwise did 
 absolutely nothing to hide the effects of age. " She 
 resigned herself gracefully to the first touch of Time," 
 says Sainte-Beuve. " She understood that for one who 
 had enjoyed such success as a beauty, the less pretension 
 she made the greater chance she would have of seeming 
 to remain so. A friend, who had not seen her for years, 
 complimented her upon her looks. "Ah, my dear 
 friend," she replied, " it is useless for me to deceive 
 myself. From the moment I noticed that the little 
 Savoyards in the street no longer turned to look at me, I 
 knew that all was over." 1 It was no doubt this sincerity 
 which contributed to prolong her charms far beyond the 
 ordinary period. 
 
 In the autumn of 1842 Bailanche, who had been an 
 1 Cause lies du Luudi, i. 105. 
 3"
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 unsuccessful candidate for a seat in the Academy some 
 years before, was elected to that august body. Madame 
 Recamier and all the circle of the Abbaye-au-Bois were 
 delighted at his success, but the philosopher himself 
 seemed to regard his admission to the " immortal forty " 
 with comparative indifference. He had little or nothing 
 of vanite de Vauteur, and attached far more importance to 
 the moral and philosophical influence he desired to exercise 
 than to mere literary popularity. 
 
 But indifferent as was Ballanche to rewards both 
 pecuniary and honorary, he was, nevertheless, deeply 
 grateful to Madame Recamier for the kindly interest she 
 had always taken in his literary projects, and the encourage- 
 ment she had always been so ready to extend to him. He 
 regarded her as the providence of every moment of his 
 life, and the inspiration under which all his best work had 
 been accomplished. 
 
 " Yes, you are the Antigone of my dreams," he writes. 
 " Her destiny is not like yours, but the lofty soul, the 
 generous heart, the genius of devotedness are the features 
 of your character. I was only beginning Antigone when 
 you appeared to me at Lyons, and God only knows how 
 large a share you have in the portrait of that noble woman ! 
 Antiquity is far from having furnished me with all 
 the materials for it ; the ideal was revealed to me by you. 
 I shall explain all these things one day ; I choose the 
 world to know that so perfect a creature was not created 
 by me." And again, after he had finished his great work, 
 the Palinginisie Sociale, he says : 
 
 " If my name survives me, which appears more and 
 more probable, I shall be called the Philosopher of the 
 Abbaye-au-Bois, and my philosophy will be considered as 
 inspired by you. Remember that it was only through 
 
 312
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 Eurydice that Orpheus had any true mission to his 
 fellow creatures ; and remember, too, that Eurydice was a 
 marvellous vision. The dedication of the Palinginisie 
 will explain all this to posterity. This thought is one of 
 my joys. I believe that I am now entering on the last 
 stage of my life ; this stage may be prolonged for some 
 time, but I know what must be the end of it. I shall fall 
 asleep in the bosom of a great hope, and full of confidence 
 in the thought that your memory and mine will live the 
 same life." 1 
 
 But if Ballanche was confident of the verdict of 
 posterity, it was far otherwise with the greatest of all 
 Madame Recamier' s friends. Chateaubriand was haunted 
 by a strange morbid fear that his fame would not survive 
 him, and this, combined with his feeble health and the 
 undignified annoyances of poverty, made the task of 
 soothing his declining years more difficult than ever ; 
 and poor Madame de Chateaubriand found herself forced 
 over and over again to appeal to Madame Recamier, 
 and entreat her interference for the sake of peace and 
 quiet. 
 
 In 1 843 the young Comte de Chambord, the legitimate 
 heir to the French crown, wrote to Chateaubriand from 
 London, the refuge of all vagabond kings and scheming 
 pretenders, begging him to come to England and give 
 him the benefit of his advice. The poor old man was 
 now so crippled with gout and rheumatism that he could 
 scarcely walk, and, besides, grudged every day which kept 
 him from the Abbaye-au-Bois ; but he did not hesitate 
 to comply. While in England he wrote to Madame 
 Recamier as regularly as before, though his handwriting 
 was now so illegible, that he was generally compelled to 
 
 1 Ampere's Ballanche, p. 230. 
 313
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 dictate to his private secretary, a necessity which caused 
 him much annoyance : 
 
 " I have been airing my melancholy in Kensington 
 Gardens, where you promenaded as the most beautiful of 
 Frenchwomen. I saw once more the trees under which 
 Rene first appeared to me. Then I was young, youth 
 was before me, and I could strive after the unknown 
 thing I sought. Now I cannot take one step forward 
 without reaching the end. Oh that I were at rest, my 
 last thought being of you ! " 
 
 And then, after he has seen the young prince, he sends 
 her a note, which, brief as it is, deserves to be handed 
 down as a beautiful example of that unreasoning loyalty 
 which the cause of the Bourbons, like that of the 
 Stewarts, so frequently evoked. 
 
 " I have just received the recompense of my whole life. 
 The young prince has deigned to speak to me, in the 
 midst of a crowd of Frenchmen with all the enthusiasm of 
 youth. If I could I would tell you all about it ; but, as it 
 is, I can't help crying like a fool." 
 
 In the following spring Madame Recamier took a 
 furnished house at Auteuil, which possessed the twofold 
 advantage of being in the country, and, yet, so near Paris, 
 that Chateaubriand, Ballanche, and her other friends could 
 drive out every day to see her. Here she had as her near 
 neighbour Guizot, with whose family, and especially with 
 his aged mother, she soon became on intimate terms. 
 
 Madame Guizot, who was at this time nearly eighty, 
 was the object of universal regard. She had been a very 
 beautiful woman, but, after the death of her husband, 
 who, although a Liberal, had been guillotined during the 
 Reign of Terror, she cut off her long and beautiful hair, 
 put on a small close fitting cap, which she never afterwards 
 
 l>4
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 laid aside, and lived henceforth in strict retirement, 
 devoting herself to works of piety and the education of 
 her two sons. 
 
 The old lady was a warm admirer of Chateaubriand's 
 works, and expressed a wish to make the author's acquaint- 
 ance. There was some little difficulty about this, as 
 Guizot, being Louis Philippe's chief adviser, naturally 
 stood in a somewhat delicate position towards such an 
 avowed enemy of the Government as Chateaubriand : but, 
 at length, it was got over by Madame Recamier arranging 
 that the interview should take place in her own garden. 
 
 The meeting was a very interesting one. Chateaubriand 
 was at his best, and exerted himself to confirm the good 
 impression his writings had made upon this venerable lady, 
 whose happiness had been shipwrecked by the same storm 
 that had driven him to earn his bread in a foreign land, 
 but whose path had never crossed his until they were both 
 so near the end of their earthly pilgrimage. They parted 
 with mutual feelings of sympathy and esteem, and, a few 
 days later, Chateaubriand sent the manuscript of the first 
 part of his Memoires for Madame Lenormant to read 
 to Madame Guizot. 
 
 Madame Recamier passed the greater part of the 
 summer at Auteuil, and in the autumn spent some time 
 with her niece in Normandy. During the last years of 
 her life, whenever Chateaubriand and Ballanche could be 
 persuaded to spare her for a few days, she always made a 
 point of spending them in the country ; and it was from 
 these brief intervals of rest, far from the noise and turmoil 
 of the great city, that she drew the strength to continue 
 the life of self-sacrifice she had imposed on herself. 
 
 Madame Recamier had always been very regular in her 
 habits. .She rose early, and, in accordance with a practice 
 
 3*5
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 she had begun early in life at the suggestion of Mathieu 
 de Montmorency, devoted an hour to the study of a 
 portion of the Scriptures or of some religious work. 
 Afterwards she had the newspapers and one or two of the 
 latest books read to her ; for few women were more 
 extensively acquainted with current literature. This 
 occupied her until breakfast at twelve o'clock, after which 
 she drove out to visit some of her poor people, or to call 
 on her niece or some old acquaintance who was too infirm 
 to come to her, returning to the Abbaye in time to receive 
 Chateaubriand, who arrived every day punctually at half- 
 past two. The two faithful friends had tea, and passed an 
 hour together, and at four o'clock her other friends, of 
 whom Ballanche was usually the first, were admitted. 
 Everything was delightfully informal at the Abbaye : no 
 visitor was ever announced, and people were at liberty to 
 come and go as often as they pleased in the course of the 
 afternoon. 
 
 In the spring of 1845 the Comte de Chambord, who 
 was now living at Venice, again sent for Chateaubriand. 
 Madame Recamier was very unwilling that he should 
 undertake so long a journey in his feeble state of health — 
 his hands were so disabled that he could hardly hold his 
 stick — but the loyal old man could not bear to disappoint 
 the youth whom he looked upon as his lawful king, and 
 insisted upon going to Venice, whence he sadly writes that 
 the inscription in the middle of the Grand Canal, recording 
 the fact that Byron had been there, had already disappeared, 
 and that the great poet was now as completely forgotten 
 " as any poor fisherman of the lagoons." He evidently 
 deduces from this that his own fame will prove as fleeting. 
 
 Chateaubriand returned to Paris after an absence of 
 three weeks. He bore the fatigue of the journey better 
 
 316
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 than Madame Recamier had dared to hope, but it was his 
 last effort of loyalty. 
 
 As far back as 1839 Madame Rdcamier's eyes had 
 caused some anxiety to her friends, and in 1844 she could 
 no longer see to read. " Her unwillingness to trouble 
 others with her infirmities," says Madame Lenormant, 
 " led her, even when she became totally blind, to conceal 
 the fact from her friends. Her hearing was remarkably 
 acute, and, with an unequalled tact, she recognised instantly, 
 by the first inflection of the voice, people who approached 
 her. Her man-servant took care to arrange the furniture 
 in her salon always in the same order, that she might have 
 no difficulty in moving about ; and many people, who 
 heard her speak of her ' poor eyes,' only imagined that 
 her sight was not so good as formerly." 1 
 
 She was now, of course, obliged to make use of other 
 people's eyes in order to gratify her love for literature ; 
 and her nephew Paul David read to her every evening. 
 His elocution, however, left a good deal to be desired, and 
 he saw that Madame Recamier was sensitive to his short- 
 comings, in spite of her efforts not to appear to be so. He, 
 therefore, secretly took lessons in reading, at the age of 
 sixty-four, in order not to mar the pleasure he was able 
 to afford her. 
 
 In the winter of 1845-6 Madame Recamier' s friends 
 persuaded her to consult Dr. Druot, a well-known oculist, 
 and for some months she submitted to his treatment, 
 but without deriving any permanent benefit. By the 
 use of belladonna, however, her sight was often restored 
 to her for a few hours, and in the following May 
 she was thus able to see and admire Ary Scheffer's 
 beautiful picture, St. Augustine and Monica, which the 
 
 1 Souvenirs, ii. 538. 
 317
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 painter sent to the Abbaye for her and Chateaubriand's 
 inspection. 
 
 Madame Recamier had dreaded the loss of her sight less 
 on her own account than on that of Chateaubriand, whose 
 mental faculties were now beginning to fail, while an 
 accident had reduced him to a helplessly crippled condition. 
 In the summer of 1 846, in stepping from his carriage, his 
 foot slipped, and he fell, breaking his collar-bone. From 
 that day he was no longer able to walk, and when he 
 came to the Abbaye had to be carried by two servants 
 from his carriage to the salon, where he was placed in an 
 arm-chair, and wheeled to a corner of the fireplace. When 
 this was done, Madame Recamier was the only person 
 present, and visitors, who came in after his " hour," found 
 him comfortably settled ; but he was sometimes obliged 
 to leave in the presence of strangers, and this, as he was 
 extremely sensitive with regard to his infirmities, was 
 always a most trying moment, although out of respect for 
 his feelings no one appeared to notice when he was carried 
 from the room. 
 
 Sometimes, instead of receiving her friends in her own 
 salon, Madame Recamier would arrange to meet those 
 who were most likely to be able to amuse Chateaubriand 
 at the latter's house in the Rue du Bac. By this means 
 the old man was spared the annoyance of strangers 
 witnessing his helpless condition. 
 
 During the spring of 1847 Madame Recamier under- 
 went an operation upon her eyes. It was performed by 
 an eminent specialist, and great hopes were entertained 
 that it would prove successful, but circumstances com- 
 bined to render it unavailing. In her anxiety to resume 
 her former mode of life for the sake of Chateaubriand, 
 who was now more than ever dependent upon her good 
 
 3i8
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 offices, as he had lost his wife in the previous February, 
 she neglected necessary precautions. She had, moreover, 
 been strictly enjoined to avoid all kind of excitement, 
 but, shortly after the operation, she was called to the 
 death-bed of her faithful friend Ballanche. 
 
 The immediate cause of the old philosopher's death was 
 pleurisy, but there can be no doubt that his anxiety and 
 terror at the prospect of the operation which the object of 
 his affections was about to undergo had not a little to do 
 with the fatal termination of his illness. He lodged 
 opposite the Abbaye, but would not consent that Madame 
 Recamier should be sent for, as he knew how dangerous 
 it would be for her to expose her eyes to the light. She 
 learned from some of his friends, however, of his critical 
 condition and, forgetting all her doctor's injunctions, at 
 once went to his rooms, and remained with him until the 
 end, thus losing in tears and agitation all hope of re- 
 covering her sight. 
 
 Ballanche was buried in the family vault of the 
 Recamiers, where Madame Recamier herself intended to 
 be laid, so that he might rest in death near her whom he 
 had loved so tenderly in life ; and Alexis de Tocqueville, 
 on behalf of the Academy, and M. de La Prade, repre- 
 senting the town of Lyons, delivered addresses over the 
 grave. 
 
 Madame Recamier's grief at the loss of the friend 
 whose whole life from the time of their first meeting at 
 Lyons, in 1813, had been consecrated to her was very 
 great ; but the necessity of devoting herself to Chateau- 
 briand — a task which was daily becoming more difficult — 
 absorbed all her faculties, and left her little leisure to 
 indulge in melancholy reflections. 
 
 Like Madame de Maintenon, she now found herself 
 
 319
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 called upon to amuse a being who was no longer 
 amusable. Chateaubriand's memory was now so much 
 gone, that he had been known to ask for a friend who had 
 been dead twenty years, while he had so completely lost 
 the power of attention that he had given up reading. He 
 knew that his faculties were leaving him, and, " like a poor 
 proud man seeking to hide his poverty," as one of his 
 contemporaries observes, hardly ever spoke, except to 
 Madame Recamier and one or two of his most intimate 
 friends. Yet at times a gleam of his former self would 
 flash up and surprise every one. " One day," says Madame 
 Mohl, " a lady calling at the Abbaye made a speech in 
 praise of Robespierre's virtues (we are not aware in England 
 that a knot of democrats uphold Danton, Marat, and 
 Robespierre as the first heroes of equality). M. de Cha- 
 teaubriand, all at once aroused from his silence, broke out 
 into a description of the deeds of these men, deeds he had 
 witnessed. Never in his best days had he expressed more 
 eloquent indignation. All were silent with awe. They 
 felt as if a prophet raised from the dead had spoken.*' 1 
 
 He still continued to come every day with unfailing 
 regularity to the Abbaye ; indeed, he only seemed to live 
 during the hours he spent with Madame Recamier, and 
 one day surprised her by entreating her to marry him. 
 
 Madame Recamier was much touched by his earnestness, 
 but she was firm in her refusal. "Why should we 
 marry ? " she said. " If living alone is painful to you, I 
 am willing to come and live with you. The world, I am 
 certain, will do justice to the purity of our friendship, and 
 will sanction anything that will render my task, of making 
 your old age happy, peaceful, and comfortable, more easy 
 for me. If we were younger, I should not hesitate ; I 
 
 1 Madame Mohl's Madame Recamier, p. 109. 
 
 320
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 would gladly accept the right of devoting my life to you. 
 But years and blindness have given me this right. Let 
 us change nothing in so perfect an affection." 1 
 
 Such was the reason she gave Chateaubriand for her 
 refusal to bear his name, but it was not the true one, as 
 she confided to a friend shortly afterwards. " If I had 
 thought he would be happier," she said, " I would not 
 have refused ; but the only cheerful moments he has in 
 the day are when he comes to the Abbaye. I am con- 
 vinced that if I lived with him, that slight excitement 
 which gives a little variety to his life would be lost." In 
 this decision she thought of Chateaubriand, not of herself. 
 
 Towards the end of July, Madame Recamier, whose 
 nerves had been much shaken by Ballanche's death and 
 her own unsuccessful operation, was persuaded to go to 
 Maintenon on a visit to the Due and Duchesse de Noailles. 
 Ampere was also of the party, and she took a mournful 
 pleasure in assisting him in the preparation of his " Life 
 of Ballanche." She remained, however, but a short time 
 at Maintenon, as she could not bear to leave Chateaubriand 
 for a day longer than was absolutely necessary. 
 
 So great was her desire to recover her sight, in order 
 that she might be of more service to her friend, that on 
 her return to Paris she had the courage to submit to 
 another operation. But this, like the first, was wholly 
 unsuccessful. 
 
 The winter passed quietly away, without any indication 
 of the momentous events which were pending, and in 
 February came the third great revolution that she and 
 Chateaubriand were to witness. The latter had by this 
 time fallen into a sort of speechless stupor, and at times it 
 almost seemed as if his intelligence was gone ; but he still 
 
 1 Souvenirs, ii. 5518. 
 
 321 x
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 continued to come to the Abbaye-au-Bois, "where,** 
 says Madame Mohl, "like an old oak struck by 
 lightning, beautiful in its decay, he sat, seemed to listen 
 to the conversation, smiled when one of his favourites 
 entered; but in reality was indifferent to all.** 1 He 
 roused himself sufficiently to make inquiries about the 
 revolution of February, and when he was told that Louis 
 Philippe's Government had been overthrown, he exclaimed, 
 " Well done ! " and once more relapsed into silence. 2 
 
 In May Chateaubriand was in such a weak state that he 
 was unable to leave the house. Madame Recamier, there- 
 fore, went every day to the Rue du Bac, at the same hour 
 that he had been accustomed to come to the Abbaye, and 
 a few either of her own or of Chateaubriand's friends 
 generally joined her there. 
 
 During the June insurrection few drivers would venture 
 out, as the rioters seized on every vehicle they could find, 
 and piled them up for barricades. Madame Recamier, 
 however, remembered that it was possible to reach 
 Chateaubriand's house by making a detour through some 
 unfrequented back streets ; and, after some difficulty, she 
 succeeded in persuading a cocker bolder than his fellows 
 to take her this way, and, blind and nervous as she was, 
 never missed a day in coming to the Rue du Bac. 
 
 At the close of that month Chateaubriand was compelled 
 to take to his bed, and the doctors declared that the end 
 was only a question of days. Madame Recamier dreaded 
 his dying in the night, when it might not be possible to 
 summon her in time, and was, therefore, greatly relieved 
 when Madame Mohl, who lived on an upper floor in the 
 same house, offered her a room. 
 
 1 Madame Mohl's Madame Recamier, p. 115. 
 
 2 Souvenirs of Alexis de Tocqueville, p. 255. 
 
 322
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 The scene at the deathbed of the great writer was 
 inexpressibly pathetic. Madame Recamier could not see 
 him, neither could he speak to her, as he had lost the 
 power of speech for some days. Whenever she, choked 
 by her sobs, left the room, Chateaubriand followed her 
 with his eyes, as if fearing that he should never see her 
 again. At length, in the early morning of July 4, in the 
 presence of his nephew, Comte Louis de Chateaubriand, 
 the Abb6 Deguerry, and Madame Recamier, he passed 
 quietly away. 
 
 Many years before, Chateaubriand had begged his fellow 
 townsmen of St. Malo to reserve " un ■petit coin de lerre " 
 for his grave ; and here a simple granite cross marks the 
 spot where the most eloquent of modern Frenchmen is 
 sleeping his last long sleep beside the sea, the music of whose 
 wild waves had so often iulled him to rest in infancy. 
 
 12*
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 Madame Recamier's grief at Chateaubriand's death — Visit of 
 Beranger to the Abbaye-au-Bois — Publication of the Memoires 
 d' Outre Tombe — Return of the cholera — Madame Recamier 
 removes to the Bibliotheque Nationale — She is attacked by 
 cholera — Her death — The secret of her influence 
 
 In losing Chateaubriand, Madame Recamier felt as if the 
 mainspring of her life was broken. While witnessing the 
 physical and mental decline of the great genius, she had 
 struggled with passionate tenderness against the terrible 
 effect of years and ill-health upon him ; but the long 
 conflict had exhausted her strength, and a strange pallor 
 now began to overspread her face, which seemed to warn 
 her friends that she would not long survive him. 
 
 After a time she forced herself to resume her former 
 habits, and her friends continued to come to the Abbaye- 
 au-Bois. Of these Ampere was now the chief. After the 
 death of Ballanche he had given up a projected tour in 
 the East, in order to remain near his beloved friend, and 
 exerted all his wonderful conversational powers to cheer 
 and console her in her blindness and solitude. But alas ! 
 no one, however gifted, could ever fill the place of the 
 two friends whom death had taken from her. 
 
 " Madame Recamier," says her niece, " often spoke of 
 Ballanche and Chateaubriand together, always expressing 
 herself as if they were only momentarily absent. At the 
 
 3*4
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 hour when her two friends were accustomed to enter her 
 salon I have seen her shudder if the door happened to 
 open. Upon asking her the reason, she told me that at 
 times she experienced a thought of them so vivid that it 
 seemed like an apparition. The darkness which for her 
 enveloped all objects must have favoured these effects of 
 the imagination." l 
 
 Shortly after Chateaubriand's death, Madame Recamier 
 received a visit from the famous song-writer Beranger. 
 This was the first time that Beranger had been to the 
 Abbaye-au-Bois, although she had met him several times 
 at Chateaubriand's house. He had been an intense admirer 
 of the great author — he shared his conviction that Byron 
 had got the idea of his " Childe Harold " from Reni — and 
 his object in calling was to express his sympathy with 
 Madame R6camier in the irreparable loss she had sus- 
 tained. Madame Recamier was much touched by this 
 attention on the part of the kind-hearted little poet. 
 
 The death of Chateaubriand, of course, left the pub- 
 lishers free to issue his Mimoires. They disposed of the 
 serial rights to the proprietors of La Presse y and early in 
 1 849 they began to appear in the columns of that journal. 
 Their publication in this form had been strongly dis- 
 approved of by the author, who had foreseen that the 
 publicity of a daily newspaper would make many of the 
 opinions expressed in the book seem unduly severe and 
 create much ill-feeling. Madame Recamier was very 
 distressed at seeing how entirely her dead friend's wishes 
 had been disregarded, more especially when it became 
 evident that his fears in this respect had been but too well 
 grounded ; but she was powerless to interfere. 
 
 In March the cholera, from which she had fled in 1832, 
 
 1 Souvenirs, u. 563. 
 3ZS
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 made its reappearance in Paris. She was too old and too 
 infirm to fly from it now ; but Madame Lenormant 
 suggested that she should remove to the Bibliotheque 
 Nationale, where she and her husband resided. This 
 appeared to most of her friends a great mistake, for the 
 Abbaye was in a far less crowded part of the town than 
 the Bibliotheque; and they, accordingly, did what they 
 could to persuade her to stay where she was, but without 
 success. 
 
 Here she remained for three weeks, and then announced 
 her intention of returning to the Abbaye in the course of 
 a few days. On May 7 Comte de Saint-Priest, who had 
 been selected by the Academy to deliver the customary 
 eulogium on their late colleague Ballanche, called to read 
 her the draft of his address, in which she was, of course, 
 much interested ; and on the following day she drove 
 out as usual in the morning, received some friends in the 
 afternoon, and dined with the Lenormants, Ampere, and 
 Madame Salvage. On the 9th she seemed perfectly well 
 in the early part of the day, and her great-niece, Juliette 
 Lenormant, finished reading to her Madame de Motte- 
 ville's Memoires. At four o'clock, however, as she was 
 dressing for dinner she was suddenly taken ill. Doctors 
 were at once summoned and pronounced the disease to be 
 cholera. In her feeble state of health she had no strength 
 to battle with the disease, and two days later she died, 
 rejoicing in the midst of her agony that she was permitted 
 to do so surrounded by those whom she loved. "We 
 shall meet again ! " were her last words. 
 
 " Cholera," says Madame Lenormant, " usually leaves 
 frightful traces upon its victims, but by an exception, 
 which I cannot help regarding as a last favour of Heaven, 
 Madame Recamier's features assumed in death a surprising 
 
 326
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 beauty. Her expression was angelic and grave ; she 
 looked like a beautiful statue ; there was no contraction, 
 neither were there any wrinkles ; and never has the 
 majesty of the last sleep been attended with so much 
 grace and sweetness." 1 
 
 What was the secret of the wonderful fascination which 
 Madame Recamier exercised over all who came under her 
 influence — a fascination which was as potent on the day 
 of her death as it had been on her first appearance in 
 society half a century earlier ? It is comparatively easy 
 to account for it when she was in the heyday of her youth 
 and beauty and the dispenser of almost boundless hospi- 
 tality. But it is far more difficult to do so when youth 
 had gone, and beauty had fled, and she had exchanged 
 her splendid mansion in the Rue du Mont Blanc for a 
 comfortless garret in the outbuildings of a convent. The 
 secret, we think, is to be found in the possession in a 
 pre-eminent degree of two qualities, by no means common 
 in themselves, and still more rarely to be met with in 
 conjunction with one another — tact and sympathy. 
 
 Madame R6camier's most intimate friends, her most 
 ardent admirers, were politicians and statesmen, often 
 rivals, sometimes enemies, yet, she understood all and did 
 justice to all, not by pretending to sympathise with first 
 one and then another, as most women similarly placed 
 would have done, but by remaining absolutely impartial, 
 and letting them clearly understand that she would be no 
 party to their quarrels, however bitter those quarrels 
 might be. " Your position," writes the Due de Laval to 
 her, at the time of the diplomatic rivalry between Chateau- 
 briand and Mathieu de Montmorency, " is one of the 
 
 1 Souvenirs, ii. 572. 
 327
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 most complicated, most singular, and most embarrassing 
 in the whole of my experience ; but I am sure you will 
 get out of the difficulty with admirable tact, that you will 
 enjoy every one's confidence, that every one will be 
 satisfied, and that no one will be disappointed." 
 
 The duke was right. Madame Ricamier never dis- 
 appointed or deceived any one. In the midst of the most 
 difficult situations, in the midst of friends who were as 
 bitterly antagonistic to one another as men could well be, 
 she maintained her kind, sympathetic, and conciliatory 
 manner, acknowledging allegiance to no party, to no set 
 of political principles, but making it her business to dis- 
 cover some point of agreement between herself and each 
 of her guests — a point which, as Guizot remarks, fre- 
 quently became a bond of sympathy which nothing had 
 power to sever. 1 
 
 And if Madame R6camier was resolute in her refusal to 
 recognise political distinctions among her friends, she was 
 equally consistent in ignoring social ones. Of middle- 
 class origin herself, and married to a man whose con- 
 nections were all of the upper bourgeoisie, her own 
 charms and the levelling tendencies of the revolutionary 
 era threw her into the very highest society. Some of her 
 chosen associates were men of fashion, some politicians, 
 some litterateurs ; some were high-born, wealthy, and 
 famous, others humble, poor, and unknown. But, in the 
 few scraps of her correspondence that have been preserved, 
 and in the accounts given of her by various contem- 
 poraries, it is impossible to trace the slightest difference in 
 her way of treating these several classes of her acquaint- 
 ance. To differences in social position, indeed, to which, 
 even in our democratic age, so much importance is still 
 
 1 See Guizot's article in Revue des Deux Mondes, December 1859. 
 
 328
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 attached, she appears to have been wholly insensible. Nor 
 was this freedom from conventional exclusiveness confined 
 to herself alone ; she enforced it on all those who came 
 under her sway. Those magnificent grand-seigneurs^ the 
 Due de Laval and the Due de Noailles, must address and 
 speak of M. Ballanche, the ex-printer, and M. Ampere, the 
 journalist, precisely as if they happened to stand on the 
 same level as themselves. She would no more tolerate 
 distinctions of birth, rank, or position among her vassals 
 in her presence than would the Shah of Persia. 
 
 And thus it came about that Madame R6camier was 
 able to fill her salon with persons of every school and 
 shade of opinion, and every class and rank in society, and 
 so to contrive that every one there, whether Royalist or 
 Republican, whether Bonapartist or Legitimist, whether 
 prince of the blood or struggling man of letters, should 
 be made to feel perfectly at his ease. The following 
 anecdote, related by Sainte-Beuve, will serve to show to 
 what a height of perfection she must have brought this 
 art. 
 
 "One day in the year 1802, during the brief Peace of 
 Amiens — it was not at her splendid hotel in the Rue du 
 Mont Blanc, but in the salon of the Chateau of Clichy, 
 where she was spending the summer — a number of men, 
 representative of widely different interests, had met to- 
 gether — Adrien and Mathieu de Montmorency, General 
 Moreau, several distinguished Englishmen, including 
 M. Fox and M. Erskine, and many others. There they 
 stood, eyeing one another, each unwilling to be the first 
 to speak. M. de Narbonne, who was also present, made 
 an effort to start the conversation, but, in spite of his wit, 
 he failed. Madame Recamier came in. She spoke first 
 to M. Fox, then a few words to everybody else in turn, 
 
 329
 
 MADAME RECAMIER 
 
 at the same time presenting them one to the other with 
 some well-turned compliments. In a moment the conver- 
 sation became general ; the natural link between them had 
 been found." * 
 
 But remarkable as was her tact, her power of sympa- 
 thising with the joys and the sorrows, the hopes and the 
 fears of those around her was yet more wonderful. We 
 have seen her undertaking a night journey through the 
 brigand-haunted Campagna to plead for the life of a poor 
 fisherman whom she had never seen before, and moving 
 heaven and earth to save the condemned Carbonari from 
 the consequences of their folly ; but it was in less 
 important matters — matters which many, even of the most 
 kind-hearted among us, would scarcely consider worthy of 
 attention — that her possession of this rare and beautiful 
 quality was most strikingly evinced. " Elk itait k ginie 
 de la confiance" says one of her friends ; and it was this, 
 tven more than her personal charms and exquisite tact, 
 which attracted and attached people to her. "All who 
 were admitted to her intimacy," says another, " hastened 
 to her with their joys and their sorrows, their projects and 
 their ideas, certain not only of secrecy and discretion, but 
 of the warmest and readiest sympathy. If a man had the 
 ibauche of a book, a speech, a picture, an enterprise in his 
 head, it was to her that he unfolded his half-formed plan, 
 sure of an attentive and sympathising listener." 2 
 
 But her sympathy was by no means confined to her own 
 immediate circle, for Madame Mohl, who resided at the 
 Abbaye-au-Bois, and had many opportunities of observing 
 her, tells us that she was frequently consulted in cases of 
 difficulty by people who knew her but slightly. She 
 
 1 C auscrics du Lundi,\. 106. 
 
 2 See the article by a personal friend, Fraser's Magazine, July 1849. 
 
 330
 
 AND HER FRIENDS 
 
 would ask for time to reflect, and give a frank and con- 
 scientious opinion. 
 
 And this admirable trait, again, sprang from a deeper 
 and more fundamental virtue, in which it is probable that 
 the ultimate secret of her power lay — her singular freedom 
 from selfishness. We never hear of Madame Recamier 
 asking any favour or coveting any worldly success for 
 herself, although she was always so ready to use her 
 influence for the advancement of her friends, never 
 parading her own opinions, seldom dwelling on her own 
 troubles, of which in later life, it must be admitted, she 
 had her full share. Her interests, it has been well said, 
 were all relative. On one occasion, after she had lost 
 her sight, and she fancied she had neglected some slight 
 act of courtesy, she said, with her charming smile, " It is 
 so inconvenient to be blind." Just as if the chief value 
 of sight was the power of ministering to the needs of 
 others. 
 
 "To be beloved," says her friend, Comtesse 
 d'Hautefeuille, " was the history of Madame Recamier. 
 Beloved by all in her youth, for her astonishing beauty — 
 beloved for her gentleness, her inexhaustible kindness, for 
 the charm of a character which was reflected in her sweet 
 face — beloved for the tender and sympathising friendship 
 which she awarded with an exquisite tact and discrimination 
 of heart — beloved by young and old, small and great ; by 
 women, even women, so fastidious where other women are 
 concerned — beloved always and by all from her cradle to 
 her grave. Such was the lot, such will be the renown, 
 of this charming woman ! What other glory is so 
 enviable ? " 
 
 331 
 
 / 
 
 <
 
 INDEX 
 
 Abbaye-au-Bois 
 
 Madame Rdcamicr retires to 
 the Abbaye-au-Bois, 185 ; 
 Chateaubriand's description of 
 her "cellule," 186; the Ab- 
 baye becomes the fashion, 186 ; 
 Madame Recamier's manner of 
 life there, 186, 187; reading 
 of Chateaubriand's play, Mo'ise, 
 attheAbbaye, 262, 263; change 
 in the character of Madame 
 Recamier's salon after the July 
 revolution 272, 273 ; reading 
 of Chateaubriand's Memoir es 
 #0 utre Tom be at the Abbaye, 
 287-289 ; it becomes the most 
 brilliant literary resort in Paris, 
 
 294 
 
 characteristics of Madame 
 
 Recamier's salon, 297-301 ; 
 musical parties at the Abbaye, 
 301 ; Mademoiselle Rachel's 
 recitals there, 304 ; Madame 
 Recamier's soiree musicale in aid 
 of the sufferers by the inundation 
 at Lyons, 310, 311 ; Beranger 
 at the Abbaye, 325 ; Madame 
 Recamier leaves the Abbaye at 
 the outbreak of the cholera 
 epidemic of 1849, 326 
 
 Abrantes, Andoche Junot, Due d': 
 see Junot, Andoche 
 
 Abrantes, Laure Junot, Duchesse 
 d', 66, 112, 134 
 
 Abrantes, Laure Junot, Duchesse 
 d' (quoted), Preface, 35, 124 
 
 Academie Francaise, 188, 236, 269, 
 
 *7°» 3 1 ** 3 z6 
 
 Acte Additionnel, 154 
 
 Adolphe, Benjamin Constant's novel, 
 
 151, 162 
 Alexander I., Emperor of Russia, 
 
 134, 135 note, 156, 158-160, 
 
 167, 204 
 Amiens, Peace of, 15, 23 note, 42, 
 
 45» 329 
 
 Ampere, Jean Jacques 
 
 is introduced to society at the 
 Abbaye-au-Bois, 188 ; accom- 
 panies Madame Recamier to 
 Italy, 212 ; Madame Recamier's 
 kindness to him, 212 ; his 
 letter to his father from Naples, 
 230 ; accompanies Madame 
 Recamier on her visit to the 
 Due de Laval at Montigny, 
 290 ; seconds her efforts to 
 amuse Chateaubriand in his 
 old age, 296; his "Life of 
 Ballanche," 32 1 ; his en- 
 deavours to console Madame 
 Recamier after the deaths of 
 Ballanche and Chateaubriand, 
 
 324 
 Angouleme, Due d', 208, 209, 210, 
 
 229 
 Angouleme, Duchesse d', 133, 187, 
 
 285 
 Antigone, Ballanche's poem, 3 1 2 
 Arakcheief, General, 167 
 Arenenberg, Chateau d', 275, 276, 
 
 279, 291, 307 
 Armistead, Mrs., 42 
 Artois, Comte d' : see Charles X., 
 
 King of France 
 
 333
 
 INDEX 
 
 Atala, Chateaubriand's, 171, 175, 
 180, 206 
 
 Augustus of Prussia, Prince 
 
 meets Madame Recamier at 
 Coppet, 8 1 ; falls deeply in love 
 with her, 81 ; urges her to 
 obtain a divorce from her hus- 
 band and to marry him. 82 ; 
 his letters to her from Berlin, 
 83 ; Madame Recamier rejects 
 his offer of marriage, 84 ; his 
 letters to her during the cam- 
 paign of 1 8 14, 85 ; his mor- 
 ganatic marriage, 86 ; Madame 
 Recamier gives him the portrait 
 of herself by Gerard, 86 ; his 
 letter to her shortly before his 
 death in 1845, 86 
 
 Bacciochi, Madame 
 
 acts as hostess at Lucien Bona- 
 parte's fete in honour of Napo- 
 leon, 17-19 ; requests Madame 
 Recamierto invite her to dinner 
 to meet La Harpe, 35 ; the 
 extraordinary dress affected by 
 her ladies' literary society, 35 
 note ; her indifference to Ma- 
 dame Recamier's grief at the 
 arrest of her father, 36, 37 ; 
 introduces Madame Recamier 
 to Bernadotte, who procures the 
 release of M. Bernard, 38 
 
 Ballanche, Simon 
 
 makes Madame Recamier's ac- 
 quaintance at Lyons, 107 ; his 
 extraordinary ugliness, 107 ; 
 his devotion to Madame Re- 
 camier, 107, 108 ; his sim- 
 plicity, 108, 109 ; visits Ma- 
 dame Recamier during her stay 
 in Rome, 118, 119 ; secret of 
 her fascination for him, 180, 
 1 81 ; his opposition to her 
 growing intimacy with Chateau- 
 briand, 1 81-183 ; accompanies 
 her to Rome in 1823, 212 ; 
 
 Ballanche, Simon — continued 
 
 and to Naples, 230 ; his pitiable 
 anxiety during her illness in 
 1837, 292 ; is elected a mem- 
 ber of the Academy, 312; his 
 letters to her, 312, 313 ; his 
 daily visits to her at the Abbaye- 
 au-Bois, 316 ; his illness and 
 death, 318, 319 ; he is buried 
 in the family vault of the Re- 
 camiers, 319 
 
 Barante, Prosper de, 80, 88, 297 
 
 Barere, 8, 25 
 
 Barras, 12, 13 
 
 Bartolozzi, 48 
 
 Bavaria, Prince-Royal of Bavaria : 
 see Ludwig, etc. 
 
 Beauharnais, Alexandre de, 276 
 
 Beauharnais, Eugene de, 25 
 
 Beauharnais, Hortense de: see Hor- 
 tense, Queen of Holland 
 
 Beaujolais, Comte de, 48 
 
 Beranger, 325 
 
 Bernadotte, 
 
 makes Madame Recamier's ac- 
 quaintance in Madame Bac- 
 ciochi's box at the Theatre 
 Francais on the night of M. 
 Bernard's arrest, 38 ; intercedes 
 with the First Consul and pro- 
 cures M. Bernard's release, 39, 
 40 ; intrigues against Bonaparte, 
 51, 52; endeavours to secure 
 the co-operation of Moreau at 
 Madame Moreau's ball, 56, 57 ; 
 his interview with Bonaparte at 
 the Tuileries, 61, 62 ; his letter 
 of condolence to Madame 
 Recamier after the failure of 
 her husband's bank, 77, 78 ; is 
 elected heir to the crown of 
 Sweden, 93 ; his letter of 
 farewell to Madame Recamier 
 from Stockholm, 94 ; persuades 
 Moreau to enter the service of 
 the Czar and direct the cam- 
 paign of 18 1 3, 134 
 
 334
 
 INDEX 
 
 Bernadotte, Madame : see Desiree, 
 Queen of Sweden 
 
 Bernard, Jean 
 
 is appointed collector of customs 
 in Paris, 3 ; escapes the guillo- 
 tine through the protection of 
 Barere, 8 ; is appointed Post- 
 master-General, 34. ; intrigues 
 with the Royalists and is arrested, 
 34.-36 ; his daughter's efforts 
 on his behalf 36-38 ; is re- 
 leased through the intercession 
 of Bernadotte, 40 ; visits his 
 daughter at CMlons during her 
 exile, 104 
 
 Bernard, Jean Franchise Julie Ade- 
 laide : see Recamier, Madame 
 
 Bernard, Madame 
 
 her beauty and charm of man- 
 ner, 3 ; her successful specula- 
 tions, 3 ; her attention to her 
 daughter's personal appearance 
 and education, 5, 6 ; her re- 
 puted amours with Calonne 
 and Barere, 8 ; swoons on re- 
 ceiving intelligence of her hus- 
 band's arrest, 36 ; accompanies 
 Madame Recamier on her visit 
 to England, 47 ; her death, 80 
 
 Bernetti, Cardinal, 254 
 
 Berri, Due de, 190 
 
 Berri,Duchessede,273,282,2 83,2 85 
 
 Berry, Mary 
 
 her description of the Recamiers' 
 house in the Rue du Mont 
 Blanc, 15, 16 ; her first impres- 
 sions of Madame Recamier, 44 ; 
 her description of a drawing- 
 room at the Tuileries during 
 the Peace of Amiens, 45 ; visits 
 Madame Recamier at the Ab- 
 baye-au-Bois, 187 ;herludicrous 
 mistake with regard to the 
 Queen of Sweden, 188; her 
 description of Benjamin Con- 
 stant's funeral, 270 
 
 Berryer, 273, 282, 307 
 
 Bertin, 241, 242, 254, 256, 262 
 
 Berthaut, 1 5 
 
 Berthier, 63, 65 
 
 Blacas, Due de, 178 
 
 Blucher, Marshal, 168 
 
 Boi'eldieu, 5,112 
 
 Boigne, Madame de, 136 
 
 Boileau (quoted), 295 
 
 Bomba, King, 234 
 
 Bonaparte at the Bridge of Lodi, 
 Gros's picture of, 275 
 
 Bonaparte, Caroline : see Caroline, 
 Queen of Naples 
 
 Bonaparte, Elisa : see Madame 
 Bacciochi 
 
 Bonaparte, Jerome, 217, 218 
 
 Bonaparte, Joseph, 55 
 
 Bonaparte, Letitia, 18,217 
 
 Bonaparte, Louis : see Louis, King 
 of Holland 
 
 Bonaparte, Louis Napoleon : see 
 Louis Napoleon 
 
 Bonaparte, Lucien 
 
 his fete in honour of the First 
 Consul, 17 ; his personal ap- 
 pearance, 20 ; his great abili- 
 ties, 20 ; conceives a violent 
 passion for Madame Recamier, 
 21 ; his Letters of Romeo to 
 Juliette, 21, 22 ; his advances 
 repulsed by Madame Recamier, 
 23 ; retaliates at Ouvrard, the 
 banker's supper-party, 23 note ; 
 takes up his residence in Rome 
 after the fall of Napoleon, 217; 
 and is created Prince de Canino 
 by Pius VII., 217 
 
 Bonaparte, Napoleon: see Napoleon 
 I., Emperor 
 
 Bonaparte, Napoleon Charles, 217, 
 279 
 
 Bonaparte, Pauline, 37 and note, 
 
 114, 217 
 
 Bondy, Madame de, 95 
 
 Bonstetten, 80 
 
 Borghcse, Prince, 37 note, 114, 
 
 115, 116 
 
 335
 
 INDEX 
 
 Borghese, Princesse: see Bonaparte, 
 
 Pauline 
 Boulogne, Abbe" de, 1 1 3 
 Boulogne, Louis Napoleon's 
 
 attempt at, 307 
 Bourbon, Duchesse de, 161 
 Bourbons, The, 56, 131, 222, 267, 
 
 271 
 Bourmont, General de, 263 
 Bourrienne, 54, 66 
 
 (quoted) 52, 53 note 
 Bracciano, Due de : see Torlonia 
 Bracciano, Duchesse de, 117 
 Brifaut, Charles, 294 
 Brillat-Savarin, Anthelme, 58 and 
 
 note. 
 Bristol, Frederick Hervey, Earl of, 
 
 187 
 Broglie, Victor, Due de, Preface, 
 137, 140 and note, 149, 153, 
 164 
 
 (quoted), 163, 164 
 Broglie, Duchesse de, 140, 168 
 Brunswick, Ferdinand, Duke of, 
 
 172 
 Byron, George Gordon, Lord, 281, 
 
 285, 316, 325 
 Byron, Lady, 310 
 
 Cadiz, Constitution of Cadiz, 199 
 
 Cadoudal, Georges, 57-60, 263 
 
 Calonne, 3, 8 
 
 Cambaceres, 19, 60, 65 note, 177 
 
 Campan, Madame, 64 
 
 Canova, Abbe, 118,119,129,214, 
 
 *3*» 2 33 
 Canova, Antonio 
 
 receives a visit from Madame 
 
 Recamier at his atelier in Rome, 
 
 117; his friendship with her, 
 
 118; his simple manner of life 
 
 and princely generosity, 119; 
 
 his care of his health, 119; he 
 
 lends Madame Recamier his 
 
 locanda at Albano, 119; his 
 
 busts of Madame Recamier, 
 
 Canova, Antonio — continued 
 
 128, 129; his death, 215; 
 Madame Re'camier's visit to his 
 grave at Possagno, 232, 233 
 
 Canovas, The, 133 
 
 Canning, George, 200, 203, 208, 
 209 
 
 Carbonari, The, 193-196, 330 
 
 Caroline, Queen of Naples 
 
 invites Madame Recamier to 
 breakfast with her at Neuilly, 
 70 ; tries to induce her to 
 accept the post of dame du 
 pa/ais, 71, 72 ; lends Madame 
 Recamier her box at the The- 
 atre-Francais, 72 ; her cordial 
 reception of Madame Recamier 
 at Naples 123,1 24; her personal 
 appearance and abilities, 124; 
 Talleyrand's opinion of her, 
 124 ; opinion of the Duchesse 
 d'Abrantes, 124 note; she pre- 
 vails upon Murat to join the 
 coalition against Napoleon, 125; 
 her firmness and her husband's 
 remorse for his treachery, 125, 
 1 26 ; acts as regent during Mur- 
 at's absence from Naples, 127 ; 
 description of her bedchamber, 
 128; pardons a criminal on 
 the intercession of Madame 
 Recamier, 128, 129; invites 
 Madame Recamier to Naples, 
 129 ; employs Benjamin Con- 
 stant to defend the cause of her 
 husband by his pen, 137 ; her 
 proffered remuneration for this 
 service refused by Constant, 
 141 note ; offers Madame 
 Recamier an asylum at Naples 
 on the return of Napoleon from 
 Elba, 1 5 1 ; Madame Recamier 
 visits her at Trieste in 1825, 
 233 ; her harsh treatment by 
 the Powers, 233 ; her visit to 
 Paris in 1838 to press her claims 
 for compensation upon the 
 
 336
 
 INDEX 
 
 Caroline, Queen of Naples — cont. 
 French Government, 304, 305 ; 
 pension voted her by the Cham- 
 bers, 305 ; her death, 305 
 Casimir-Perier, 273 
 Cassagnac, Granier de (quoted), 
 
 278 
 Castiglioni, Cardinal : see Pius IX. 
 Catellan, Madame de, 87, 104, 140 
 
 note, 147 
 Celles, 245 
 Chambord, Henri, Comte de, 266, 
 
 267, 273, 313, 315, 316 
 Charles X., King of France, 190, 
 
 225, 234, 239, 240, 241, 242, 
 
 256, 261, 262, 263, 264, 265, 
 
 266, 283, 289 
 Charriere, Madame, 138 
 Chateaubriand, Lucile de, 171 
 Chateaubriand, Comte Louis de, 
 
 323 
 
 Chateaubriand, Comte Rene de, 
 170 
 
 Chateaubriand, Francois Rene, 
 Vicomte de 
 renews his acquaintance with 
 Madame Recamier at the death- 
 bed of Madame de Stael, 1 70 ; 
 his early life, 171 ; his journey 
 to America, 171 ; his marriage 
 with Mademoiselle de Lavigne, 
 171, 172; joins the emigres and 
 is wounded at the siege of 
 Thionville, 172; escapes to 
 England, 172; his privations 
 in London, 172, 173 ; his love 
 affair with Miss Ives of Bun- 
 gay, 173, 174; his Essai sur les 
 Revolutions, 174; returns to 
 France, 174; great success of 
 his Le Genie du Christianisme, 
 
 174 ; goes as attache to Rome, 
 
 175 ; and as envoy to the 
 Valais, 175 ; resigns his post 
 and opposes Napoleon, 17$; 
 Napoleon's opinion of him, 
 175, 176 ; his journey to the 
 
 Chateaubriand, Francois Reni, 
 Vicomte de — continued 
 East, 176; publication of the 
 Itin'eraire and Les Martyrs, 
 176; is elected a member of 
 the Institute, 177; his address 
 highly displeasing to the Em- 
 peror, 177, 178; is ordered to 
 leave Paris, 178; his pamphlet 
 De 'Bonaparte et des Bourbons 
 " worth a hundred thousand 
 men to the Legitimist cause," 
 178; is made a peer, 178; 
 accompanies the Court to 
 Ghent during the Hundred 
 Days, 178 ; listens to the can- 
 non of Waterloo, 178, 179; his 
 opposition to the Govern- 
 ment after the Second Restora- 
 tion, 179; his name is struck 
 off the list of Ministers of State, 
 1 79 ; his personal appearance, 
 179 ; his attraction for women, 
 179; his egotism, vanity, and 
 ambition, 179; his melancholy 
 disposition, 179; his admira- 
 tion for Madame Recamier re- 
 ciprocated, 180; her friendship 
 "a relief to his spirits," 1 80, 1 8 1 ; 
 his description of her "cell" at 
 the Abbaye-au-Bois, 186; his 
 character and habits, 188, 189; 
 Madame Recamier's devotion 
 to and influence over him, 
 188,189; is sent as Minister to 
 Berlin, 190 ; his letters to 
 Madame Recamier from Berlin, 
 190-192; goes as ambassador 
 to London, 191; his reception 
 there, 198; his dislike of Eng- 
 lish society, 198, 199; his desire 
 to represent France at the Con- 
 gress of Verona, 200 ; invokes 
 Madame Recamier's assistance, 
 and is nominated to the Con- 
 gress, 201 ; his duplicity, zoi, 
 202 ; his intrigues at Verona, 
 
 337
 
 INDEX 
 
 Chateaubriand, Francois Rene, 
 Vicomte de — continued 
 203, 204; becomes Minister for 
 Foreign Affairs in place of 
 Mathieu de Montmorency, 
 206 ; forces the Cabinet into 
 armed intervention in Spain, 
 208 ; his triumph and tempo- 
 rary popularity, 210 ; effects of 
 popular adulation upon him, 
 211; strained relations between 
 him and Montmorency, 211 ; 
 rupture of his friendship with 
 Madame Recamier, 212 ; his 
 letter to her, 212,213; his con- 
 duct with regard to Villele's 
 revenue bill causes the loss of 
 the measure, 223,224; his igno- 
 minious dismissal from office, 
 225,226; hisrevenge, 226, 227; 
 his pamphlet, Le Rot est tnort! 
 Vive le Roi! 234 ; renewal of 
 his friendly relations with 
 Madame Recamier, 235 ; de- 
 clines the post of Minister of 
 Public Instruction in the Mar- 
 tignac Ministry, 240 ; goes as 
 ambassador to the Vatican, 
 242 ; his letters to Madame 
 Recamier from Rome, 242- 
 260 ; his interview with 
 Charles X. on his return from 
 Rome, 262 ; reading of his play 
 Mo'ise at the Abbaye-au-Bois, 
 262,263; endeavours to dissuade 
 the King from provoking a con- 
 test with the nation, 263 ; re- 
 signs his post at the Vatican, 
 263 ; remains neutral during 
 the July Revolution, 265 ; his 
 interview with Louis Philippe, 
 266,267; andwiththeDuchesse 
 d'Orleans, 267, 268; refuses to 
 take office under Louis Philippe 
 and retires from public life, 
 268 ; is arrested on suspicion 
 of instigating a Royalist rising in 
 
 Chateaubriand, Francois Ren6, 
 Vicomti de — continued 
 La Vendee, but the charge 
 breaks down, 273 ; visits Queen 
 Hortense at Chateau d'Aren- 
 enberg, 279 ; his description 
 of his visit with Madame Re- 
 camier to the grave of Madame 
 de Stael at Coppet, 280-282 ; 
 is prosecuted by the Govern- 
 ment on account of his pam- 
 phlet in defence of the 
 Duchesse de Berri, 282 ; is 
 defended by Berryer and ac- 
 quitted, 282 ; his journey to 
 Prague on behalf of the 
 Duchesse de Berri, 283 ; and 
 to Venice, 283 ; his letters to 
 Madame Recamier from Venice, 
 283-285 ; his second journey 
 to Prague marks the close of 
 his political career, 285, 286 ; 
 becomes a martyr to ennui, 287 ; 
 efforts of Madame Recamier to 
 give an interest to his life, 
 287 ; readings of his Memoires 
 d'Outre Tombe at the Abbaye- 
 au-Bois, 287-289; his financial 
 embarrassments, 289 ; he dis- 
 poses of his memoirs in return 
 for a pension, 289, 290 ; his 
 dislike of this transaction, 290; 
 his pitiable anxiety during 
 Madame Recamier's illness in 
 1837, 292, 293; his daily visits 
 to the Abbaye-au-Bois,293,294; 
 his intense dislike of bas-bleus, 
 294 ; his feeble health and low 
 spirits, 295 ; Madame Re- 
 camier's devotion to him, 295, 
 296 ; his reserve in the presence 
 of strangers, 297 ; George 
 Ticknor's description of the two 
 Chateaubriands, 297 ; Louis 
 Napoleon's letter to him from 
 his prison at Ham, 308, 309; his 
 high opinion of Louis Napo- 
 
 333
 
 INDEX 
 
 Chateaubriand, Francis Ren£, 
 Vicomte de — continued 
 leon, 309 ; his morbid fear of 
 outliving his fame, 313 ; visits 
 the Comte de Chambord in 
 London, 313, 314; his letters 
 to Madame Recamier from 
 London, 3 14 ; his touching 
 loyalty to the young prince, 
 314; his interview with 
 Madame Guizot at Auteuil, 
 315; his visit to the Comte de 
 Chambord at Venice, 316, 317; 
 meets with an accident in 
 alighting from his carriage, 
 318 ; gradual failure of his 
 mental faculties, 319, 320 ; 
 Madame Mohl's anecdote, 320; 
 his offer of marriage to Madame 
 Recamier, 320; his illness and 
 death, 322, 323 ; his grave at 
 St. Malo, 323 
 
 Chateaubriand, Madame de, 171, 
 172, 189-190, 243, 245, 246, 
 249, 251, 253, 258, 265, 282, 
 
 293; 3I3>. 319 
 Chauvin (painter), 251 
 
 Chenier, Joseph de, 176 
 
 Chenet, Madame, 194 
 
 Chevreuse, Duchesse de, 67, 105, 
 
 and note, 106 
 Chevreux, Madame (quoted), 215 
 Child, Mrs. (quoted), 167, 1 68 
 Choron, 301 
 Clary, Desiree : see Desiree, Queen 
 
 of Sweden 
 Clavier, 60 
 Clichy, The Recamiers' chateau at, 
 
 12, i3> 3°, 4 J > 43, 66 > 6 7> 7 2 , 
 
 329 
 Coghill, Sir John, 121, 122 
 
 Comite de Salut Public, 9 
 
 Consalvi, Cardinal, 216, 219, 221 
 
 Constant, Benjamin 
 
 his speech in the Senate in 
 
 1803, accusing Bonaparte of 
 
 aiming at absolute power, 55 ; 
 
 339 
 
 Constant, Benjamin — continued 
 plays Hippolytus in blue spec- 
 tacles at Geneva, 87 ; his char- 
 acter, 137; his susceptibility to 
 feminine influence, 137, 138; 
 falls madly in love with Madame 
 Recamier, 138; his extra- 
 ordinary love-letters, 138-149 ; 
 Madame Recamier's treatment 
 of him considered, 1 4.9—1 5 I ; 
 his brochure in defence of 
 Murat, King of Naples, 141 
 note ; his refusal to accept 
 remuneration for his services, 
 141 note ; his violent attack 
 on Napoleon in the Journal 
 des Debats after the Emperor's 
 return from Elba, 1 5 3 ; he flies 
 to Nantes, 154; but returns 
 and is reconciled to Napoleon, 
 155; he becomes a Councillor 
 of State, 155 ; " Le Benjami- 
 nisme," 155 ; probable reason 
 for these remarkable tergiversa- 
 tions, 154, 155 ; his friendship 
 with Madame deKriidener, 161- 
 163 ; her proposal to establish 
 a lieu (Tame between him and 
 Madame Recamier, 163 ; he be- 
 comes a mystic, 163, 164 ; and 
 a devil-worshipper, 164; his 
 behaviour described by the 
 Due de Broglie, 164; his op- 
 position to the Spanish War in 
 1823, 209; he is prosecuted 
 by the Government on account 
 of his writings, 209 ; Madame 
 Recamier intercedes for him, 
 209 ; supports Louis Philippe 
 in 1 S 30, 269 ; honours bestowed 
 upon him, 269 ; his anxiety to 
 become a member of the 
 Academy, 269 ; his proposal to 
 Guizot in order to ensure his 
 election, 269 ; his letter to 
 Madame Recamier, 269 ; he is 
 rejected by the Academy, 270 ;
 
 INDEX 
 
 Constant, Benjamin — continued 
 his chagrin and death, 270 ; 
 honours paid to his memory, 
 270 ; Mary Berry's account of 
 his funeral, 270 
 Constant, Charles, 155 note 
 Constant, Madame, 138 
 Constant, Rosalie, 155 note 
 Constitutions!, The, 208 
 Coppet, 15, 79-80, 81, 87, 91, 
 
 100, 101, 102, 109, 151, 168, 
 
 280-282 
 Corbiere, 192, 224 
 Corinne, Gerard's picture of, 86 
 Corinne, Madame deStael's, 6, 14, 
 
 138, 148, 168 
 Coudert, 195 
 Coulommier, 89 
 Courland, Duchesse de, 1 33 
 Courrier, The, 256 
 Cousin, Victor, 247, 262, 272 
 Covent Garden Theatre, Madame 
 
 Ricamier's reception at, 48 
 Cumberland, Duchess of, 191 and 
 
 note 
 Cuvier, 273 
 Cyvoct, Amelie de : see Lenormant, 
 
 Madame 
 
 Dalmassy, Madame de, 104 
 
 Damas, Baron de, 229 
 
 Danton, 320 
 
 Daru, 177, 178 
 
 David, Jacques Louis, (painter) 33 
 
 David, Paul, 217, 317 
 
 Davidde, 245 
 
 Davy, Lady, 187 
 
 Davy, Sir Humphry, 187 
 
 <De Bonaparte et des Bourbons, 
 
 Chateaubriand's, 153, 178 
 Decazes, 190 
 Deguerry, Abbe, 323 
 Delecluze, 215 
 De V Allemagne, Madame de 
 
 StaeTs, 14, 87, 90, 91 
 De I 'Esprit de Conqucte, Benjamin 
 
 Constant's, 153 
 
 Delon, 194, 195, 196 
 Delphin, Madame, 1 1 1 
 Demidoff, 46 
 Demidoff, Madame, 46 
 Democratie en Amerique, Alexis de 
 
 Tocqueville's, 294 
 Dernitres Vues de Politique et de 
 
 Finance, Necker's, 55 
 Desiree, Queen of Sweden, 52, 
 
 136, 188 
 Despaze, 13 
 
 Devonshire, Elizabeth Cavendish, 
 Duchess of, 
 visits Madame Recamier at the 
 Abbaye-au-Bois, 187; takes up 
 her residence in Rome and 
 becomes the leader of society 
 there, 215; her munificent 
 patronage of art and literature, 
 216 ; her friendship with Ma- 
 dame Recamier, 216 ; her grief 
 at the death of Cardinal Con- 
 salvi, 216, 217 ; her illness and 
 death, 219, 220 ; singular con- 
 duct of her step-son, the young 
 Duke of Devonshire, 219-221 ; 
 possible explanation of this, 221 
 Devonshire, Georgiana Cavendish, 
 
 Duchess of, 47, 48, 221 
 Devonshire, William Cavendish, 
 
 fifth Duke of, 
 Devonshire, William Spencer Cav- 
 endish, sixth Duke of, 219-221 
 Dolgourski, Princess, 31 note 
 Doudeauville, Due de, 104, 229 
 Doumerc, Madame, 112 
 Druot, Dr., 317 
 Duchatel, Comte, 303 
 Dumas, Alexandre pere, 276, 277, 
 278, 307 
 (quoted) 276, 277 
 
 Edgeworth, Maria, 187 
 
 (quoted) 31 note, 185 note 
 Empaytaz, 161 
 Enghien, Due d', 59, 65, 68, 175 
 
 340
 
 INDEX 
 
 Erskine, 319 
 
 Esmenard, 101 
 
 Essai sur les Revolutions, Chateau- 
 briand's, 174 
 
 Estournelles, Baron d', Preface 
 
 Estournelles, M. d', 138 
 
 Eudorus and Cymodocea, Tenerani's 
 bas-relief of, 232 
 
 Eynard (quoted), 156 note 
 
 Ferdinand IV., King of Naples, 1 51, 
 
 233 
 Ferdinand VII., King of Spain, 
 
 199, 210 
 
 Fesch, Cardinal, 175, 217 
 
 Fitz-James, 273 
 
 Forbin, Comte Auguste de, 142 
 note, 146, 153 
 
 Forster, Lady Elizabeth : see Eliza- 
 beth, Duchess of Devonshire 
 
 Forster. Mr. John, 215 
 
 Fouche, Joseph, Due d'Otrante 
 his overtures to Madame Rcca- 
 mier on behalf of Napoleon, 
 66-72 ; his fury at her refusal 
 of the post of dame du palais, 
 72, 73 ; his meeting with Ma- 
 dame Recamier at Terracina in 
 1813, 122, 123 
 
 Fox, Charles James, 42, 43, 329 
 
 Foy, General, 208, 270 
 
 Fragments Historiques 1688 et 1 830, 
 Louis Napoleon's 
 
 Fraser's Magazine (quoted), 128, 
 
 330 
 
 Garat, 19 
 
 Gay, Delphine, 54 note, 187 
 Gay, Sophie, 54 note 
 Gazette de France, 252, 257 
 Gentleman's Magazine, 49 
 George, Prince of Wales, 48 
 George, Grand-Duke of Mecklen- 
 burg-Strelitz 
 makes the acquaintance of 
 
 George, Grand-Duke of Mecklen- 
 burg-Strelitz — continued 
 Madame Recamier at a bat- 
 masque at the Opera, 96 ; visits 
 her incognito, 96 ; and is mis- 
 taken by the concierge for a 
 thief, 97 ; his letter to Madame 
 Recamier in 1845, 98,99 
 
 Genlis, Madame de (quoted), 98 
 
 Gerard, 33, 34, 86, 97 
 
 Gerando, Baron de, 161 
 
 Gibbon, 215 
 
 Girardin, Madame : see Gay, 
 Delphine 
 
 Gregoire, Bishop of Blois, 161 
 
 Gregory XVI., Pope, 233 
 
 Gros, 275 
 
 Guerin, Pierre, 215, 243, 252 
 
 Guignes, Due de, 24, 47 
 
 Guizot, 269, 270, 272, 282, 314, 
 328 
 
 Guizot, Madame, 314, 315 
 
 Guyot, Abbe, 35 note 
 
 Harcourt, Eugene d', 1 1 1 
 Hardenberg, Count, 83, 138 
 Hautefeuille, Comtessed' (quoted), 
 
 331 
 
 Helena, Grand-Duchess, of Russia, 
 
 Hildebrand, Henri, 247 
 
 Hingant, 172 
 
 Hortense, Queen of Holland 
 
 is created Duchess de St. Leu 
 at the Restoration, 135 note; 
 her letter to Madame Recamier 
 during the Hundred Days, 
 152 ; renews her acquaintance 
 with Madame Recamier at 
 Rome in 1824, 216; their 
 practical joke at Torlonia's 
 masked ball, 218, 219; her 
 adventures in Italy, 274, 275 ; 
 receives Madame Recamier and 
 Chateaubriand at Chateau d' 
 Arenenberg, 275-279 ; follows 
 Louis Napoleon to Paris after 
 
 3+ 1
 
 INDEX 
 
 Hortense, Oueen of Holland — 
 continued 
 the failure of his attempt at 
 Strasburg, 290 ; her grief at the 
 separation from her son, 291 ; 
 her death, 292 
 
 Houssaye, Arsene, 303 
 
 Humboldt, Alexander von, 187 
 
 Hyde de Neuville, 273 
 
 Itiniraire de Paris d Jerusalem, 
 
 Chateaubriand's, 176 
 Ives, Charlotte, 173, 174 
 
 Jadin, 19 
 
 Joachim, King of Naples: see Murat, 
 Joachim 
 
 Jomini, General, 75 
 
 Jordan, Camille, 75, 105, 107, 1 14, 
 130 
 
 Josephine, Empress, 45, 64, 65, 71, 
 98, 105, 276, 278 
 
 Journal des Debats, 153, 227, 241, 
 242, 262 
 
 Journal Intime, Benjamin Con- 
 stant's, Preface, 149 note, 163 
 
 Junot, Andoche, Due d'Abrantes, 
 
 75> 77, i°4- 
 Junot, Madame : see Duchesse 
 
 d'Abrantes 
 
 Keratry, 256 
 
 Kriidener, Madame de 
 
 herearly life, 1 56 ; Valerie, I 56, 
 157 ; her conversion, 158 ; her 
 extraordinary influence over the 
 Emperor Alexander of Russia, 
 ! 58, *59 '■> ms visits to her at 
 the Hotel Montchenu, 1 59 ; 
 Talleyrand and Metternich 
 strive in vain to counteract her 
 influences, 160 ; her evening 
 seances attended by the most 
 distinguished people in Paris, 
 
 Kriidener, Madame de — continued 
 161 ; Chateaubriand's opinion 
 of her, 161 ; her sympathy for 
 Benjamin Constant, 162, 163 ; 
 her friendship with Madame 
 Recamier, 162, 163; tries to 
 establish a " lien d'dme " be- 
 tween Constant and Madame 
 Recamier, 163 ; her letter to 
 Madame Recamier from Basle, 
 165, 166; her last years and 
 death, 166, 167 
 
 Kriidener, Baron de, 156 
 
 Lablache, 310 
 
 Labourdonnaie, 263 
 
 La Deserte, Convent of, 3 
 
 Lafayette, 25, 168, 193, 268 
 
 La Ferronnays, 254 note 
 
 Lafont, Pierre (actor), 38 and note, 
 262, 263 
 
 La Harpe 
 
 makes a p t of Madame Reca- 
 mier when a child, 4 ; her 
 kindness to him, 30 ; his unfor- 
 tunate marriage, 30, 31 ; his 
 mode of life described by Maria 
 Edgeworth, 3 1 note; is made the 
 victim of a practical joke at 
 Clichy, 32, 33 
 
 La Harpe, Madame: see Longuerue, 
 Mademoiselle de 
 
 Lamartine, 187, 262 
 
 (quoted) I, 199, 207, 241, 
 262 
 
 La Prade, 319 
 
 La Presse, 325 
 
 La Rochefoucauld, Sosthenes de, 1 04 
 
 La Rochefoucaulds, The, 104, 271 
 
 Lauzun, Due de, 225 
 
 Laval, Abb6 de, 26 
 
 Laval, Adrien de Montmorency, 
 Due de 
 the great nobleman par excel- 
 lence, 25 ; his kindness when 
 ambassador in Rome to Madame 
 
 342
 
 INDEX 
 
 Laval, Adrien de Montmorency, 
 Due de — continued 
 Recamier, 214; his princely 
 hospitality, 216; is present at 
 the death of Elizabeth, Duchess 
 of Devonshire, 220 ; shares 
 Madame Recamier's conviction 
 with regard to the singular 
 conduct of the young Duke of 
 Devonshire, 221 ; condemns 
 Chateaubriand's violence 
 against his former colleagues, 
 229 ; resigns his post at the 
 Vatican in order to please 
 Madame Recamier, 240, 241 ; 
 Madame Recamier visits him 
 at Montigny shortly before his 
 death, 290 
 La Valliere, Mademoiselle de, 
 
 28 
 " Le 'Benjaminisme," 154 
 Leclerc, General, 37 note 
 Leclerc, Madame : see Bonaparte, 
 
 Pauline 
 Le Genie du Christianisme, Chateau- 
 briand's, 113, 174, 297 
 Lemoignon, Christian de, 24, 34 
 Lenormant, Charles, 33, 103, 231, 
 
 235, 282, 288 
 Lenormant, Madame, Preface, 86, 
 103 and note, 113, 119, 137, 
 182, 212, 230, 231, 235, 261, 
 265 
 
 (quoted), 6, 10, 17, 23, 30, 
 117, 137, 149, 189, 324, 325, 
 326, 327 
 Lenormants, The, 326 
 Leo XII., Pope, 244, 249, 254, 
 
 2 55 
 Le Roi est mort ! Vive le Roil 
 
 Chateaubriand's, 234 
 Le Roy, 88 
 Lescure (quoted), 179 
 Les Maccabees, 2 5 1 
 Les Martyrs, Chateaubriand's, 176, 
 
 232 
 "Les Quatres Hemes" 294 
 
 Lrs Lrttrrs it Bvnjemin Constant a 
 Madame Recamier, Preface, 103 
 
 Lettres sur tltalie, Chateaubriand's, 
 
 . I7 5 
 Licven, Princesse de, 219 
 
 " Lipona, Comtesse de " : see Caro- 
 line, Queen of Naples 
 Longchamps, Charles de, 7 1 
 Longuerue, Madame de, 30, 31 
 Longuerue, Mademoiselle de, 30, 3 1 
 Lomenie, Louis de, 294 
 
 (quoted), 295 
 Louis XIV., 2, 295 
 Louis XV., 185 
 Louis XVI., 5, 64, 172 
 Louis XVIII., 134, 135 note, 154, 
 
 «tS> i79> 2 °4> 2 °5> 2o6 > 22 4> 
 226, 234, 262 
 
 Louis, King of Holland, 217, 276 
 Louis Napoleon (afterwards Napo- 
 leon III.) 
 accompanies Queen Hortense 
 to Rome, 217; his adventures 
 during the insurrection in 
 Romagna, 274, 275 ; his cha- 
 racter, 279 ; his life at Chateau 
 d'Arenenberg, 279 r '; brought 
 to Paris for tria' 'fter his 
 attempt at Strasburg in 1836, 
 
 290 ; is banished to America, 
 
 291 ; Madame Recamier a 
 witness at his trial after the 
 affair at Boulogne, 307 ; hi 
 witty remark on learning hi 
 sentence, 307 ; Madame R6- 
 camier visits him at the Con- 
 ciergerie, 308 ; his letters to 
 her and to Chateaubriand from 
 his prison at Ham, 308, 309 ; 
 Chateaubriand's high opinion 
 of him, 309 ; calls at the 
 Abbaye-au-I5ois on his return 
 to Paris in 1848, 309 
 
 Louis Philippe, King of the 
 French, 266, 267, 268, 269, 
 275, 322 
 
 3+3
 
 INDEX 
 
 Ludwig, Prince-Royal of Bavaria, 
 
 94> 95> 9 6 
 Luynes, Duchesse de, 105, 106, 
 
 135 
 Luynes, Hotel de, 10, 236 
 
 Luyster, Miss, Preface 
 
 Madame Mere: see Bonaparte, Le- 
 titia 
 
 Madame Royale, 5 
 
 Maintenon, Madame de, 295 
 
 Marat, 320 
 
 Marcellus, Comte de, 201 
 
 Marie Antoinette, 5, 8, 64 
 
 Marie Louise, Empress, 276 
 
 Martignac, 240, 241, 263 
 
 Mecldenburg-Strelitz, Grand-Duke 
 of: see George, &c. 
 
 Meditations, Lamartine's, 187 
 
 Melegari, M. (quoted), 138, 153, 
 164 
 
 Memoires d' Outre Tombe, Chateau- 
 briand's, 287-290, 315, 325 
 (quoted), 171, 172, 173, 186, 
 191 note, 198, 280-282 
 
 Mercure, The, 177 
 
 Merimee, Prosper, 187, 262 
 
 Metternich, 151, 160, 175, 199, 
 203 
 
 Meuss (banker), 148 
 
 Michelet (quoted), 107 
 
 Miollis, General de, 120 
 
 Miozis, 130 
 
 Mohl, Madame, Preface, 330 
 
 (quoted), 212, 272, 287, 288, 
 299, 320, 322 
 
 Mole, Comte (quoted), 179 
 
 Moliere, 298 
 
 Monarchie selon la Charie, Chateau- 
 briand's, 179 
 
 Moniteur, The, 154 
 
 Montalembert, 187 
 
 Montesquiou, Comte Anatole de, 
 266 
 
 Montez, Lola, 94 
 
 Montholon, 307 
 
 Montmorency, Adrien de : see Laval, 
 
 Due de 
 Montmorency, Baron de, 231 
 Montmorency, Baronne de, 231 
 Montmorency, Duchesse Mathieu 
 
 de, 237, 238 
 Montmorency, Mathieu de 
 
 accompanies Lafayette to Ame- 
 rica, 25 ; takes a prominent part 
 in the Revolution, 25, 26; 
 change in his life consequent 
 upon his brother's execution, 
 26 ; his unselfish affection for 
 Madame Recamier, 26 ; his 
 letters to her, 26-29 » IS con " 
 suited by Madame Recamier 
 with regard to Fouche overtures, 
 70 ; is accused by Fouche of 
 having induced Madame Reca- 
 mier to refuse the post of dame 
 du palais, 72, 73 ; is exiled by 
 Napoleon, 10 1 ; visits Madame 
 Recamier at Lyons, 113; be- 
 comes Chevalier d'honneur to 
 the Duchesse d'Angouleme, 133; 
 disapproves of Madame Reca- 
 mier's intimacy with Chateau- 
 briand, 1 81-18 3 ; his visits to 
 Madame Recamier at the Ab- 
 baye-au-Bois, 187 ; becomes 
 Minister for Foreign Affairs, 
 192 ; declines to nominate 
 Chateaubriand to the Congress 
 of Verona, 200 ; but ultimately 
 consents at the request of 
 Madame Recamier, 201 ; his 
 letter to Madame Recamier 
 from Verona, 202 ; his amazing 
 indiscretions at the Congress, 
 203, 204; returns to Paris and is 
 made a duke, 204, 205 ; his col- 
 leagues refuse to ratify his action 
 at Verona, 205,206; resigns and 
 is succeeded by Chateaubriand, 
 206; hismagnanimousconduct, 
 207 ; his letter to Madame 
 Recamier,207, 208 ; hisrelations 
 
 344
 
 INDEX 
 
 Montmorency, Mathieu de — cont. 
 with Chateaubriand become 
 strained, 211, 212; Madame 
 Recamier's letter to him from 
 Rome, 221, 222 ; his generous 
 approbation of Chateaubriand's 
 action with regard to the re- 
 venue bill, 228; is elected a 
 member of the Academy, 236 ; 
 and appointed Governor to the 
 young Due de Bordeaux, 236 ; 
 his sudden death, 236; his noble 
 character, 236, 237 
 
 Montpensier, Due de, 48 
 
 Moore, Thomas (the poet), 189 
 
 Moreau, Madame, 56, 57, 133, 
 134, 186, 187 
 
 Moreau, Victor 
 
 his refusal to co-operate with 
 Bernadotte against Bonaparte 
 in 1803, 56; his conversation 
 with Bernadotte at Madame 
 Moreau's ball, 56, 57 ; his trial 
 described by Madame Recamier, 
 58-60 ; is banished to America, 
 61 ; enters the service of the 
 Czar and agrees to direct the 
 campaign of 1813, 134 ; is 
 mortally wounded before Dres- 
 den, 134; his widow made 
 Marechale de France by Louis 
 XVIII., 134 
 
 Murat, Caroline : see Caroline, 
 Queen of Naples 
 
 Murat, Joachim, King of Naples 
 his kindness to Madame Reca- 
 mier on the occasion of her 
 first visit to Naples, 123, 124 ; 
 his character, 1 24 ; joins the 
 coalition against Napoleon in 
 1 8 14, 125 ; his remorse for his 
 treachery, 125, 1 26 ; his removal 
 from the throne of Naples in- 
 sisted on by France at Vienna, 
 151 ; leads his army against 
 the Austrians in 1 81 5, 15 1 ; is 
 defeated and flies to France, 
 
 Murat, Joachim, King of Naples 
 — continued 
 152 ; attempts to recover his 
 kingdom, 152 ; is taken prisoner 
 and shot, 152 
 
 Napoleon I., Emperor 
 
 Fete in his honour at the 
 Luxembourg, II, II; Madame 
 Recamier meets him at dinner 
 at Lucien Bonaparte's, 17 ; his 
 behaviour at the dinner-table 
 and in the music-room, 18, 
 19; his embarrassing attentions 
 to Madame Recamier, 20 ; 
 extraordinary eagerness of Eng- 
 lish visitors to see him during 
 the Peace of Amiens, 45 ; Mary 
 Berry's description of a drawing- 
 room at the Tuileries, 45 ; his 
 growing power, 50 ; Berna- 
 dotte's intrigues against him, 
 51, 52 ; antagonism between 
 him and Madame de Stael, 52- 
 55 ; banishes her from Paris, 
 55 ; his interview with Berna- 
 dotte after the arrest of Moreau, 
 61, 62 ; becomes Emperor, 
 63 ; desires that his Court shall 
 rival that of the ancient mon- 
 archy, 64 ; Madame de Remu- 
 sat's and Madame de StaeTs 
 account of it, 64 ; wishes to 
 attach Madame Recamier to 
 the Court, 65, 66 ; instructs 
 Fouche to make overtures to 
 her, 66 ; sinister motives attri- 
 buted to him, 66 ; his undis- 
 guised admiration for Madame 
 Recamier, 72 ; commissions 
 Fouche to offer her the post of 
 dame du pal<iis, 72; her refusal, 
 72; Napoleon's revenge, 74; his 
 remark on hearing of the wide- 
 spread sympathy which her 
 misfortunes were arousing, 75 ; 
 
 345
 
 INDEX 
 
 Napoleon I., Emperor — continued 
 his suppression of Madame de 
 StaeTs De V Allemagne, 90 ; 
 his animosity towards Madame 
 Ricamier, 98, 99, 100 ; his 
 persecution of Madame deStael, 
 100 ; he banishes Mathieu de 
 Montmorency and Madame 
 Recamier from Paris, 101, 102 ; 
 his harsh treatment of Madame 
 de Chevreuse, 105 ; he ignores 
 Madame Recamier's presence 
 in Paris on his return from Elba, 
 152 ; he wins over Benjamin 
 Constant to his side, 154, 155 ; 
 his opinion of Chateaubriand, 
 174, 175 ; the Napoleonic 
 relics at Chateau d'Arenenberg, 
 275, 276 ; Queen Hortense's 
 account of an evening at Mal- 
 maison, 277-279 
 Narbonne, Louis de, 24, 35, 329 
 Necker, 13, 55, 281 
 Necker, Madame, 281 
 Nesselrode, Madame de, 231 
 Noailles, Due de, 231, 321, 329 
 Noailles, Duchesse de, 231,321 
 Norvins, 120 
 
 Ordinances, The, 264 
 
 Orleans, Due d' : see Louis Philippe 
 
 Orleans, Duchesse d', 266, 267, 
 
 268 
 Ouvrard, 23 note 
 Ozanam, Frederic, 294 
 
 Palli, Count, 283 
 Palli, Marquis Lucchesi, 
 Part ant pour la Syrie, 277 
 Pasquier, Baron, 103, 187, 293, 
 
 3.07 
 Perier, Auguste, 187 
 
 Peyronnet, 192 
 
 Philippe Egalite, Due d'Orlcans, 
 267 
 
 Photius, 167 
 
 Pichegru, 57, 59 
 
 Pignatelli, Prince, 74 
 
 Pilorge, Hyacinth, 191, 225, 150, 
 
 284 
 Pius VII., Pope, 116, 130, 215, 
 
 217, 255 
 Pius IX., Pope, 256 
 
 Polignac, 59, 263, 264 
 
 Portalis, 91 
 
 Poussin, Nicolas, 248, 252 
 
 Quelen, Archbishop of Paris, 223 
 Quotidienne, T/je, 252 
 
 Rachel, Mademoiselle 
 
 her romantic career, 301 ; her 
 remarkable gifts as a tragedienne y 
 301 ; her avariciousness, 302 ; 
 anecdote of the old guitar, 302 ; 
 anecdote of Comte Duchatel's 
 silver bowl, 303 ; her kindness 
 to the young playwright, 304 ; 
 her popularity in society, 304 
 
 Raguse, Duchesse de, 291 
 
 Rambouillet, Hotel de, 298 
 
 Recamier, Jacques 
 
 his character, 6; marries Juliette 
 Bernard, 7 ; his habit of at- 
 tending executions during the 
 Reign of Terror, 7, 8 ; curious 
 story about his marriage, 8 ; 
 he purchases Necker's house in 
 the Rue du Mont Blanc, 13 ; 
 his propensity for match-mak- 
 ing? 30 ; his financial diffi- 
 culties, 73 ; refusal of the Bank 
 of France to assist him, 74 ; his 
 bank suspends payment, 74 ; 
 his honourable conduct, 74 ; 
 his reply to Madame Recamier's 
 proposal for a divorce, 82 ; he 
 visits his wife at Chalons during 
 her exile, 104 ; partially re- 
 covers his losses, 132 j but fails 
 
 3+6
 
 INDEX 
 
 Recamier, Jacques — continued 
 
 again, 184 ; his last years and 
 death, 263, 264 
 
 Recamier, Laurent, 47 
 
 Recamier, Madame 
 
 birth and parentage, 2 ; is sent 
 to the convent of La Deserte, 3 ; 
 joins her parents in Paris, 4 ; 
 attracts the attention of Marie 
 Antoinette, 5 ; her musical 
 tastes, 6 ; her marriage with Re- 
 camier, the banker, 7 ; mystery 
 about this, 8 ; her extraor- 
 dinary beauty, 10-12 ; her 
 kindness of heart, 13 ; begin- 
 ning of her friendship with 
 Madame de Stael, 14 ; her 
 house in the Rue du Mont 
 Blanc, 15, 16; her meeting 
 with Napoleon, 17-20; arouses 
 the passion of Lucien Bona- 
 parte, 20, 21 ; Letters of Ro- 
 meo to Juliette, 21-23 ; popu- 
 larity of her receptions, 24-25 ; 
 her friendship with Mathieu de 
 Montmorency, 25-29; and 
 with La Harpe, 29-33 ; her 
 portraits by David and by 
 Gerard, 33 ; arrest of her 
 father, M. Bernard, 36 ; her 
 efforts on his behalf, 37 ; makes 
 the acquaintance of Bernadotte, 
 38 ; her adventure in the 
 Temple, 39 ; becomes the 
 acknowledged queen of society, 
 41 ; Charles James Fox's 
 opinion of her, 42 ; impres- 
 sions of John Bernard Trotter 
 and of Mary Berry, 44 ; her 
 adventure with the Prince of 
 Wiirtemberg, 47 ; her visit to 
 England, 47-50 ; becomes the 
 confidante of Bernadotte's in- 
 trigues against Napoleon, 55- 
 57 ; her account of the trial of 
 Moreau, Pichegru, and Cadou- 
 dal, 58-60; supposed intentions 
 
 Recamier, Madame — ccntir.nri 
 of Napoleon with regard to 
 her, 65, 66 ; Fouche's overture . 
 67-7 1 ; refuses the post of dame 
 du palais, 72 ; failure of her 
 husband's bank, 74 ; her cour- 
 age in misfortune, 74, 75 ; her 
 visit to Madame de Stael at 
 Coppet, 80 ; her love affair 
 with Prince Augustus of Prussia, 
 81-87; her friendship with the 
 Grand-Duke of Mecklenburg- 
 Strelitz, 96-99 ; hostility of 
 Napoleon towards her, 99 ; she 
 is banished from Paris, 102 ; 
 she goes to Chalons-sur-Marne, 
 102 ; and to Lyons, 104 ; be- 
 ginning of her friendship with 
 Simon Ballanche, 107 ; annoy- 
 ances she is subjected to as an 
 exile, 1 10, hi ; goes to Italy, 
 113; her impressions of Turin, 
 1 1 4-1 16 ; arrives in Rome, 
 116; her friendship with the 
 Canovas, 118 ; her attempt to 
 save the life of a condemned 
 fisherman, 11 9-1 2 1 ; sets out 
 for Naples, 122 ; meeting with 
 Fouche at Terracina, 122 ; 
 reception by the King and 
 Queen of Naples, 123 ; wit- 
 nesses a painful scene at the 
 palace, 125, 126; intercedes 
 for a criminal, 128 ; returns to 
 Rome, 128 ; her bust by Ca- 
 nova, 128, 129; second visit 
 to Naples, 1 29 ; witnesses the 
 entry of Pius VII. into Rome, 
 130; returns to Paris, 131 ; 
 renewed social successes, 132, 
 133 ; her acquaintance with the 
 Duke of Wellington, 135-137; 
 becomes the object of a desper- 
 ate passion on the part of Ben- 
 jamin Constant, 137, 138 ; his 
 extraordinary letters to her, 
 139-149; her treatment of him 
 
 347
 
 INDEX 
 
 Recamier, Madame — continued 
 considered, 1 49-1 51 ; remains 
 in Paris during the Hundred 
 Days, 151,152; her friendship 
 with Madame de Kriidener, 
 162-166 ; her meeting with 
 Chateaubriand, 170 ; his ad- 
 miration for her reciprocated, 
 180 ; second failure of her hus- 
 band, 1 84 ; retires to the Ab- 
 baye-au-Bois, 185; her recep- 
 tions at the Abbaye, 187, 188 ; 
 her influence over Chateaubri- 
 and, 1 88, 189 ; her efforts on 
 behalf of the condemned Car- 
 bonari, 194-196 ; obtains Cha- 
 teaubriand's nomination to the 
 Congress of Verona, 201 ; 
 rupture of their friendly rela- 
 tions, 211; goes to Italy, 212; 
 her receptions in Rome, 214 ; 
 her friendship with Elizabeth, 
 Duchess of Devonshire, 216, 
 217 ; her meeting with Queen 
 Hortense, 217 ; their practical 
 joke at Torlonia's masked ball, 
 218, 219; is present at the 
 death of the Duchess of Devon- 
 shire, 220 ; her opinion of the 
 young Duke's singular beha- 
 viour, 221 ; makes the acquain- 
 tance of Madame Salvage, 222; 
 revisits Naples, 230, 231 ; forms 
 a friendship with Madame 
 Swetchine, 231 ; visits the 
 grave of Canova at Possagno, 
 232 ; visits Caroline Murat at 
 Trieste, 233 ; returns to Paris, 
 234; renews her friendly rela- 
 tions with Chateaubriand, 235; 
 her niece's marriage to Charles 
 Lenormant, the antiquary, 235 ; 
 her relations with the widow 
 of Mathieu de Montmorency, 
 237, 238 ; persuades the Due 
 de Laval to surrender the 
 embassy at Rome to Chateau- 
 
 R6camier, Madame — continued 
 briand, 241 ; Chateaubriand's 
 letters to her from Rome, 242- 
 260 ; her husband's death, 263, 
 264 ; goes to Dieppe, 264 ; 
 but returns to Paris at the out- 
 break of the July Revolution, 
 265 ; change in the character 
 of her salon, 271 ; her sympa- 
 thy for sincere political convic- 
 tions, 272 ; her ungovernable 
 dread of cholera, 274 ; goes to 
 Switzerland, 274; visits Queen 
 Hortense at Chateau d'Aren- 
 enberg, 275 ; Alexander Du- 
 mas fire's impression of her, 
 276 ; makes a pilgrimage with 
 Chateaubriand to the grave of 
 Madame de Stael, 279-282 ; 
 Chateaubriand's letters to her 
 from Venice, 283-285 ; her 
 efforts to cure Chateaubriand's 
 ennui, 287 ; arranges readings 
 of Chateaubriand's memoirs at 
 the Abbaye-au-Bois, 287-289 ; 
 negotiates the sale of the me- 
 moirs, 289, 290 ; her illness 
 and recovery, 292, 293 ; origi- 
 nates afternoon " At Homes," 
 294 ; her salon becomes the 
 most brilliant literary resort in 
 Paris, 294 ; her devotion to 
 Chateaubriand, 295, 296 ; 
 some characteristics of her 
 salon, 297-301 ; goes to Ems, 
 306 ; visits Louis Napoleon 
 at the Conciergerie, 307 ; her 
 soirie musicale at the Abbaye- 
 au-Bois, 310, 311 ; her beauty 
 in old age, 311; her friend- 
 ship with Madame Guizot, 314; 
 her habits, 315, 316; loses her 
 sight, 317; is present at the 
 death of Ballanche, 319; refuses 
 Chateaubriand's offer of mar- 
 riage, 320 ; her devotion to 
 him during his last illness, 322, 
 
 348
 
 INDEX 
 
 Recamier, Madame — continued 
 323 ; her intense grief at his 
 death, 324; she is attacked by 
 cholera, 326; her death, 326 ; 
 the secret of her influence, 
 
 327-331 
 Rimusat, 272 
 
 Remusat, Madame de, Preface, 52, 
 64 
 (quoted), 105, 106 note, 175 
 Reniy Chateaubriand's, 171, 174, 
 176, 285, 325 
 (quoted), 280 
 Reveries politiques, Louis Napo- 
 leon's, 309 
 Reschid Pacha, 310 
 Riviere, 59 
 Robespierre, 327 
 Rocca, Jean de, 109, 169 
 Rohan-Chabot, Prince de, 121, 
 
 122 
 Rondelet (quoted), 7, 236 
 Rubini, 310 
 
 Rue du Mont Blanc, The Reca- 
 miers' house in the, 13, 15, 16, 
 
 H> 47» 74> 2 94> 3 2 7> 3 2 9 
 
 Sabran, Comte de, 80, 87, 89 
 St. Augustine and Monica, Ary 
 
 Scheffer's picture of, 317 
 Sainte-Beuve, 187, 294 
 
 (quoted), 32, 33, 79, 149, 
 
 156, 157,295, 296, 311, 329 
 Saint-Priest, Comte de, 326 
 St. Simon (quoted), 10 
 Salvage de Faverolles, Madame, 
 
 222, 246, 249, 252, 274, 291, 
 
 3°7 
 Sapey, 21, 23 
 Savary, 65 
 
 Scheffer, Ary, 294 note, 317 
 Schlegel, A. W. von, 80, 88 
 Schlegels, The, 168 
 Segur, 269 
 Selwyn, George, 8 
 Se'vigne, Madame de, 1 50 
 
 Sieyes, 20 
 
 Simonard, 4, 104, 184, 187, 264 
 
 Sirejean, 194-196, 199 
 
 Sismondi, 80, 168 
 
 Stael, Albertine de : see Broglie, 
 Duchesse de, 
 
 Stael, Auguste de, 104, no, 140, 
 281 
 
 Stael, Madame de 
 
 beginning of her friendship 
 with Madame Recamier, 13- 
 I 5 ; her influence over Mathieu 
 de Montmorency, 26 ; her duel 
 with Napoleon, 53-55 ; is ban- 
 ished from Paris, 55 ; her 
 opinion of the Court of the 
 First Empire, 64 ; her letter to 
 Madame Rccamier after the 
 failure of Jacques Recamier's 
 bank, 75-77 ; her home at 
 Coppet, 79, 80 ; encourages 
 Prince Augustus of Prussia in 
 his love affair with Madame 
 Recamier, 81 ; the prince's 
 letter to her, 84 ; her fondness 
 for amateur theatricals, 87, 88 ; 
 her house-party at Fosse, 89, 
 90 ; her visit to the theatre at 
 Blois, 90 ; publication and sup- 
 pression of her work, De V Alle- 
 magne, 90 ; her banishment 
 from France, 91 ; her letter to 
 Madame Recamier, 91, 92 ; 
 her persecution by the French 
 Government, 100 ; her second 
 marriage, 109 ; her flight from 
 Coppet, no ; returns to Paris 
 after the fall of Napoleon, 1 3 1 ; 
 her enthusiasm for the Duke of 
 Wellington, 135 ; wishes Ma 
 dame Recamier " to obtain in- 
 fluence over the Duke," 136; 
 leaves for Switzerland on hear- 
 ing of Napoleon's escape from 
 Elba, 151 ; her spirited reply 
 to Napoleon's overtures, 155 ; 
 her return to Paris, 167 ; popu- 
 
 349
 
 INDEX 
 
 Stael, Madame de — continued 
 
 larity of her salon, 1 68 ; her 
 illness and death, 169 ; her 
 grave at Coppet, 281, 282 
 
 Stilling, Heinrich Jung, 158 
 
 Strasburg,LouisNapoleon's attempt 
 at, 290 
 
 Swetchine, Madame, 231, 232 
 
 Talleyrand, 12, 65, 124, 135, 
 
 160, 168, 208 
 Talma, 71, 112, 113, 186 
 Tastu, Madame de, 294. 
 Tenerani, 232 
 Terror, Reign of, 7, 8, 9, 276, 
 
 3H 
 Terrorists, The, 8, 25, 66 
 
 Theatre Francais, 4, 36, 37, 71, 
 
 276, 3 OI > 3°4 
 Thierry, 272 
 Thorwaldsen, 214, 251 
 Ticknor, George (quoted), 216, 
 
 297 
 Tocqueville, Alexis de, Preface, 
 
 187, 294, 319 
 (quoted), 322 
 Tolentino, Battle of, 152 
 Torlonia, 116, 117, 218 
 Trotter, John Bernard, 42 
 (quoted) 44 
 
 Tuileries, The, 45, 225 
 
 Valerie, 156, 157, 161, 162, 176 
 Verona, Congress of, 1 99, 200, 
 
 201, 202-206, 21 1 
 Victoria, Queen, 191 note 
 Vienna, Congress of, 151 
 Villele, 192, 200, 201, 204, 205, 
 
 206, 208, 223, 224, 225, 226, 
 
 229, 239, 241, 256 
 Villemain, 261, 262 
 Vintimille, Madame de, 185 
 Vous me quittez pour marcher a la 
 
 gloire, 277, 278 
 
 Walpole, Horace (quoted), 44 
 
 Waterloo, Battle of, 136, 137, 167, 
 179 
 
 Wellington, Duke of 
 
 meets Madame Recamier at 
 Madame de Stael's house in 
 1 8 14, 135 ; Madame Reca- 
 mier's account of her acquain- 
 tance with him, 135, 136 ; his 
 "unmeaning notes which all 
 resemble one another," 1 36 and 
 note ; " Je Cat bien battu," 1 3 7 
 
 Wharton, Grace and Philip (quo- 
 ted), 180, 1 S i 
 
 Wurtemberg, Prince of, 47. 
 
 PiinteJ by Ballantvne & Co. Lim-jted 
 Tavistock Street, Ivondon
 
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