THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 • ':h
 
 -.r^' 
 
 •jhiiSt.>«>^- 
 
 
 
 
 ITAF'DILIEOH
 
 EVENINGS 
 
 PRINCE CAMBACERES, 
 
 SECOND CONSUL, 
 
 ARCH-CHANCELLOR OF THE EMPIRE, DUKE OF PARMA, 
 
 &c. &c. &c. 
 
 BY BARON LANGON. 
 
 — O 
 
 TN TWO VOLUMES. 
 
 VOL. L 
 
 LONDON: 
 HENRY COLBURN, PUBLISHER, 
 
 13, GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET. 
 
 1837.
 
 MlSli*T t^CMSE ST€FH4C«i 
 
 LONDON: 
 SCHULZE AND CO. 13, POLAND STREKT.
 
 V. I 
 
 ADVERTISEMRNT 
 
 The volumes here presented to the pubUc con- 
 tain a faithful record of Conversations which the 
 author had the happiness to enjoy with the dis- 
 tinguished personages whose names authenticate 
 the extraordinary facts they related. 
 
 The evening p{Wl>f*>^,**'to whicfh 'Pi^tt^^ Cambaceres 
 had the kindness to admit me, were composed 
 of the old friends of the ex- chancellor of the 
 Empire. In summer in his garden, and in winter 
 in his saloon or his cabinet, Prince Cambaceres 
 was the soul of an interesting circle, presenting 
 an intellectual feast — to which, each visitor 
 contributed his contingent. 
 
 The old and the new systems, the Republic, 
 the Directory, the Consulate, the Empire and the 
 incipient Restoration, furnished the texts of these 
 Conversations. The most important events often 
 formed subjects of narration and discussion ; as for 
 example — the death of the Duke d'Enghien ; the 
 cabal which gave birth to the imperial govern- 
 ment ; the misunderstandings with the Pope ; the 
 invasion of Spain ; Napoleon's divorce ; scenes
 
 VI APVERTISEMENT. 
 
 ill the Tuileries, Saint-Cloud, Malinaison, Fon- 
 tainebleau ; and finally, as it were by way of 
 c])isodes, came the marvels of the campaigns of 
 Italy and Egypt. 
 
 It was my good fortune to hear events of the 
 most deep and stirring interest described by per- 
 sons who had witnessed them, and, in many in- 
 stances, by those who had acted conspicuous parts 
 in them. These descriptions, instead of being 
 introduced by the dull common -place preliminary 
 — It is said, or, / have heard, rivetted the attention 
 of the listener by such words as : — One day, when the 
 Emperor sent for me, or, Robespierre, addressing me, 
 said, S)C. S)C. The distinguished visitors of Prince 
 Cambaceres could truly say, in reference to the 
 scenes they described: — '' J'etais la quand telle 
 chose advint.'^ 
 
 In the arrangement of my materials, I have 
 not observed any chronological regularity. I pre- 
 sent them to the reader nearly in the order, or, 
 to speak more correctly, the disorder, in which 
 I find them collected in my notes. I give the 
 Conversations as they occurred, and, consequently, 
 without regard to unity of time, place, or subject. 
 The merit of the work rests solely on the value of 
 the materials of which it is composed ; and, in sub- 
 mitting those materials to the press, I have been 
 actuated by the spirit of truth, and not by the 
 vanity of authorship. 
 
 L. L. L.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 THE FIRST VOLUME. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Page 
 
 The author visits Prince Cambacer^s in 181 4 — Count Jules 
 de Polignac — Count Real — Count Fabre de I'Aude — Dis- 
 closure of the circumstances "which caused the trial of 
 Louis XVI to terminate in the sentence of death — Scene 
 in the National Convention — The tvpo Robespierres, Le- 
 gendre, Saint-Just, Lebas, Couthon, CoUot d'Herbois, 
 Barr^re, Fouquier-Tinville, Santerre, Carrier and Lebon — 
 Cambac^res and the Duke of Orleans — Extraordinary 
 statement made by the Duke — First interview between 
 Cambaceres and General Bonaparte — Bonaparte and Count 
 Fabre de I'Aude — Unpublished correspondence — A re- 
 miarkable phrase twice repeated — An anecdote of 1797 
 — Napoleon at the Museum in 1807 — The Author's con- 
 versation with him — Political sentiments of the youth of 
 France in 1814. 
 
 CHAPTER n. 
 
 Cambacerfes and Carnot at the Palais Royal on the 10th 
 of August 1792 — David the Painter — His disavowal of a
 
 CONTKNTS. 
 
 Vafje 
 
 pliraso often attributed to liim — Pretended list of the con- 
 demned — Alarm of the Jacobins — Theroigne de Mericourt 
 
 — Unpublished details relating to the 10th of August 
 
 — Count Rocderer's visit to the Tuileries — A mysterious 
 message — A Conversation with Marie-Antoinette — Louis 
 XVI — Curious disclosures — Roederer's account of the 
 events of the 10th of August — Cambac^res relates the 
 circumstances which preceded the 18th Fructidor — Con- 
 sultation between Cambacer^s, Talleyrand, Barras, Ma- 
 dame de Stael and Benjamin Constant^ — Dialogue between 
 Cambaceres and Barras — An interview with Barthelemy 
 — The Pi-ince de C . . . . — Anecdotes — The Royalists' plot 
 discovered — Carnot's account of his escape — Details not 
 published in his Memoirs — Interview between Napoleon 
 and David the Painter — The picture of the coronation 
 — Discussion between Napoleon and Count Fabre de 
 I'Aude respecting the restoration of titles and armorial 
 bearings — The cock and the eagle — Napoleon suggests 
 
 the re-establishment of monarchy — Curious details. . 53 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Secret audience granted by His Majesty Louis XVIII to 
 Cambaceres — Carnot's Memorial — Gloomy forebodings — 
 How their fulfilment might be avoided — A comic scene 
 with three serious characters — Freemasons and White 
 Penitents — Anecdote of the Princess Borghese — Madame 
 Mere — Story of a Vampire related by Fouche, when 
 Minister of the Police — The Lady of the Forest, a Lan- 
 guedocian anecdote — Mysterious disappearances — Baron 
 Pasquier, the Prefect of Police — Parisian thieves and swin- 
 dlers — The diamond shoe-buckles — The pretended Russian 
 Prince and the parure of diamonds — The snufF-box and 
 the robber duped — Robespierre and the English — A pro- 
 posed marriage between Robespierre and a Roval Princess 
 — Robespierre's blue coat, and bouquet of tri-coloured
 
 CONTENTS. IX 
 
 Page 
 
 flowers — A story related by Tallien — A second pro- 
 position for a marriage between Robespierre and a Princess 
 — True cause of the death of tlie Duke of Orleans. , 1S2 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 The Duke of Otranto — Police disclosures — A lady of quality 
 in the pay of the police — Snare laid to entrap the Po- 
 lignacs — A gang of thieves betrayed — Love and Police 
 —A mysterious billet — Fouch^'s rendez-vous — The dis- 
 creet porter — Discovery of murders committed by the 
 Countess Polv^re — Poison and somnambulism — The dou- 
 ble lady, an optical phenomenon — The General and the 
 Pilgrim — The brigands and the crucifix — Singular vision 
 of Louis- Sebastian Mercier — Apparition seen by Napoleon 
 and Josephine. . . . . .187 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 The Marquis de Maniban — Remarks on the old French Ma- 
 gistracy — Emoluments and duties of a Parliament Coun- 
 sellor — The Doyen's mule, a Toulousian anecdote — Opi- 
 nions respecting the guilt of the Calas family — Victims 
 sacrificed by the Jacobins to revenge Calas — Napoleon's 
 intention of restoring the old Parliaments — His conversa- 
 tion with Cambacerfes on that subject — Remarks of the 
 Duke d'Angouleme relative to the old Parliaments — 
 Scheme for a gallant intrigue at the Court of the Tuileries 
 — Base speculations on Napoleon's gallantry — Beautiful • 
 reply of the Emperor to a petition of the Empress Jo- 
 sephine — Military anecdotes — Secret mission to England 
 in 1 8 1 1 — Plan for inducing the Bourbons to renounce 
 their claim to the throne of France — Prince Talleyrand's 
 loss of memory — Madame de N. - . . — Unpublished letter 
 of Fouche — Madame de N. . . .'s visit to Hartwell — Her 
 letter to Prince Cambaceres — The Count de La Chatre —
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Page 
 
 The Duke of Orleans — The Count de Blacas — Description 
 of His Majesty Louis XVIII — Pfere Elysee — The Duchess 
 d'Angouleme — Her charitable disposition — The Duke de 
 Berry — His morganatic marriage — His two daughters — 
 Napoleon's reception of the Royal message — A celebrated 
 remark of Napoleon — Explanation of the occasion on which 
 it was made. . . . . . ,231 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Louis Sebastien Mercier — Details hitherto unpublished, re- 
 lating to the assassination of Marat — Trial and execution 
 of Charlotte Corday — The source of her fanaticism ex- 
 plained — Napoleon's belief in fatahty — His courage and 
 disregard of personal danger — The Imperial Chamberlains 
 — Example of courtly meanness — The gilded weathercock 
 — An ungrateful chamberlain on the 20th of March — An 
 anecdote for the edification of honest men — Wise maxims 
 of Cambaceres — Adventures of a courtier from 17 S7 to 
 1830 — Amusing letter from a provincial lady to a friend 
 in Paris — Missive from an ambitious poet — Literary 
 discussion — The classic school and the romantic school — 
 Cause of literary failures and disappointments — Prevalence 
 of suicide — Literary opinions of Cambaceres — Retif de 
 la Bretonne — Chenier and his Epistle to Voltaire — Na- 
 poleon's displeasure, and Chenier's punishment. . 288 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Count Regnauld de Saint- Jean d'Angely — His portrait and 
 character — Special value set upon him by Napoleon — 
 Sharp and unpublished sayings of the Emperor — Count 
 Regnauld in 1814— The five assassinations — Romantic 
 chapter in the life of a counsellor of state — Poison and 
 chocolate, an anecdote of the days of the Empire — Baron
 
 CONTENTS. XI 
 
 Page 
 
 de Puymaurin — M, de C — Story of an imperial 
 
 spy related by M. de Puymaurin — Incredible and disin- 
 terested language of M. Benoit, an ex-minister of state 
 — Conversation with Cambac^res on the probable return of 
 ' Napoleon — Unpublished letter of the latter written at the 
 close of 1814 — Tribulations of an ex-grand dignitary — The 
 female chapter, an anecdote of the Restoration — The dearly 
 paid bride's clothes of a maiden espoused without a por- 
 tion — Persons going a-begging — The actress and the win- 
 dow — A beggar who has lost his memory ; stories of the 
 present day — The Emperor and a grognard — Unpublished 
 and anecdotical letters of Napoleon to Josephine concern- 
 ing the battle of Austerlitz — The black leg and the joke, a 
 fantastic anecdote. . . . . .337
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 FRONTISPIECE TO VOL. I. 
 
 Portrait of Napoleon. 
 
 FRONTISPIECE TO VOL. II. 
 
 Portrait of Prince Cambacer^s.
 
 EVENINGS 
 
 PRINCE CAMBACERES. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 The author visits Prince Cambac^rfes in 1814 — Count Jules 
 de Pohgnac — Count R6al — Count Fabre de I'Aude — Dis- 
 closure of the circumstances which caused the trial of 
 Louis XVI to terminate in the sentence of death' — Scene 
 in the National Convention — The two Robespierres, Legen- 
 dre, Saint-Just, Lebas, Couthon, Collot d'Herbois, Barr^re, 
 Fouquier-Tinville, Santerre, Carrier and Lebon — Cambaceres 
 and the Duke of Orleans — Extraordinary statement made by 
 the Duke — First interview between Cambaceres and General 
 Bonaparte — Bonaparte and Count Fabre de I'Aude — Unpub- 
 lished correspondence — A remarkable phrase twice repeated 
 — An anecdote of 1797 — Napoleon at the Museum in 18 07 
 — The Author's conversation with him — Political sentiments 
 of the youth of France in 1814. 
 
 The consequences of the European war having 
 compelled me to leave Italy in February 1814, 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 2 VISIT TO PRINCE CAMBAC^RES. 
 
 I returned to France and took up my residence 
 at Carcassonne. The restoration ensued, and, 
 in the August following, I proceeded to Paris. 
 On my arrival in that capital, I lost no time 
 in calling on Prince Cambaceres. He still 
 resided at the old Hotel de Monaco, where he 
 fixed his abode when the demolition of the Hotel 
 d'Elbeuf compelled him, in 1809, to remove from 
 the Place du Carrousel. His new residence was 
 situated in the Rue Saint-Dominique. Her Royal 
 Highness the Duchess dowager of Orleans pur- 
 chased it from him after the Hundred Days ; 
 and she died there. The council of state now 
 holds its sittings in that hotel. What next will 
 be its destiny? Houses, like empires, often 
 change masters. The chronicles of the palaces 
 and hotels of Paris might furnish matter for a 
 few amusing volumes. 
 
 When, on saluting the Prince, I recollected 
 the many stirring events which had occurred 
 within the space of a few short months, 1 felt 
 unable to conceal my emotion. His manner was 
 marked by his accustomed kindness and amia- 
 bility : 
 
 ** How is this ?" said he. " You turn to 
 the setting sun ! Do you profess the worship 
 of sinking stars ?" 
 
 " Monseigneur," replied I, " your highness 
 overwhelmed me with favours in the days of
 
 COUNT JULES DE POLIGNAC. 6 
 
 your power. I can never cease to cherish a 
 grateful remembrance of them." 
 
 *' Leon," said he, " if you knew how basely 
 I have been forsaken. Messieurs so and so, 
 (he named about ten or a dozen persons,) are 
 at the Tuileries . . . But, I am delighted to see 
 you. Whenever you have an hour to spare, 
 especially in the evening, come and see me, 
 and we will talk over the past." 
 
 " Yes, and we will build in the regions of 
 chimera, castles in the air for the future." 
 
 " The future ! Alas ! we have nothing to 
 look for in the future. The Emperor has closed 
 every chance against himself. The Bourbons 
 will reign for ever." 
 
 " I do not think so." 
 
 *' Indeed ! and pray what inspires you with 
 that doubt?" 
 
 " A line of La Fontaine ; that writer whose 
 works are an inexhaustible mine, in which every 
 thing is to be found. In the fable of VOurs et 
 V Amateur, you will find this maxim : 
 
 ' Rien n'est si dangereux qu'un ignorant ami.' " 
 
 " It is very true." 
 
 " For example, I passed a few days at Car- 
 cassonne with Count Jules de Polignac, Two 
 strange hallucinations have taken possession of 
 his mind : one is the complete return to the old 
 
 B 2
 
 4 COUNT REAL. 
 
 regime ; and the other, that France can never 
 be saved until he himself is made prime minister. 
 He repeated this nonsense over and over, and 
 made it the subject of a hundred arguments." 
 
 " What a singular man he is !" 
 
 " He is a pure specimen of loyalty and of 
 exalted piety ; a man of the most amiable dis- 
 position and manners, but of the most complete 
 incapacity. There is no junior clerk in any of 
 our public offices, who is not better qualified to 
 be a minister than the Count." 
 
 " So much the worse, for he is very in- 
 fluential now, and will be very powerful by 
 and bye. But he will see — he will reflect, and 
 will learn to judge of things more accurately." 
 
 " Monseigneur, there are people who close 
 their eyes that they may not see, and stop 
 their ears that they may not hear. We have 
 many such in France, now." 
 
 Count Real was announced. His highness 
 uttered an exclamation of joy. 
 
 " How, Count ! is it you ? I have not seen 
 you this age." 
 
 R^AL. — I go out but little : the weather is so 
 bad. 
 
 He looked at me with an air of doubt. 
 
 The Prince. — Oh ! he is one of ourselves. 
 You may speak freely. 
 
 He introduced me. My humble name was
 
 COUNT FABRE DE L AUDE. O 
 
 unknown to Count Real ; but his Serene 
 Highness' guarantee was of course sufficient to 
 insure full confidence in me. The Count again 
 made some remarks upon the weather, which 
 he intended to be figurative, and expressed his 
 fears that it would be very stormy. The re- 
 publicans distrusted the Bourbons, and cer- 
 tainly without reason ; for their forbearance, 
 indulgence, and clemency, knew no bounds ; and, 
 in 1814, it might have been truly said that the 
 Bourbons alone had forgotten every thing. 
 
 Count Fabre de I'Aude next dropped in. 
 The Count was a magistrate and a politician of 
 the good old school, distinguished for probity 
 and parsimonious economy ; but, at the same 
 time, a warm hearted man, and ever ready to 
 serve his friends : in short, he had no enemies, 
 except those who were ungrateful for his kind- 
 ness. He was an able financier and a most 
 accurate calculator. Accounts never became 
 confused in his hands. Napoleon esteemed and 
 appreciated his merit, and frequently appealed 
 to his advice in private ; though he never con- 
 ferred on him any other reward than the func- 
 tionless post of procureur-general of the conseil 
 des sceaux des titres. After being president of 
 the tribunal, he, of necessity, became a senator : 
 he was created a count with the rest of his 
 colleagues en masse, and, at the same time, he
 
 6 TRIAL OF LOUIS XVI. 
 
 obtained the title of commander of the legion of 
 honour. He was the friend of Cambacer^s, and 
 he honoured me with his particular regard, on 
 account of his connexion with my father-in-law, 
 who, during the empire, was a counsellor of the 
 criminal court of Toulouse. 
 
 We all entered into conversation without 
 reserve. We spoke of the royal family. Prince 
 Cambaceres, who took every opportunity of 
 clearing himself from the charge of being a 
 regicide, introduced the subject of the King's 
 death. Some observations were made on the 
 political error committed by the Girondins in 
 consenting to the death of Louis XVI. 
 
 " I should like," said Real, " to tell some- 
 thing which 1 dare say you do not know. I 
 can inform you why, and through whose influ- 
 ence, it was determined that the sentence on the 
 King should be attended by a tragical result." 
 
 We all manifested our curiosity. 
 
 Real stationed himself with his back to the 
 fireplace ; there was no fire. The Prince took 
 his seat in a large arm-chair ; Fabre de I'Aude 
 in another of smaller dimensions ; and I in a 
 chair without arms. The hierarchy being thus 
 arranged, Real commenced : 
 
 " On the 21st September 1792, about mid- 
 night, the National Convention, which had been 
 installed since the morning, had, as a first 
 
 i
 
 SITTINGS OF THE CONVENTION. 7 
 
 operation, and on the proposition of Count Gre- 
 goire, resolved to terminate the monarchy by pro- 
 claiming the creation of the republic, single and 
 indivisible. I can fancy myself, even now, in 
 that apartment of Robespierre. It was a room 
 on the ground-floor, the entrance to which was 
 through a very shabby antichamber. On the 
 day I have mentioned, there were assembled in 
 the room, Saint- Just, Lebas, Couthon, Collot 
 d'Herbois, Barrere, Fouquier-Tinville, Carrier 
 Lebon, Legendre, Santerre, the two Robes- 
 pierres, (Maximillian and Augustin,) and my- 
 self — thirteen in all — an unlucky number. 
 Robespierre the elder made the remark." 
 
 "He, Sir?" exclaimed I. 
 
 " Yes, he," replied Count Real. 
 
 " Does that surprise you, my young friend?" 
 said Prince Cambac^res. " It is a superstition, to 
 be sure ; but there are many similar examples !" 
 
 I know one more, thought I to myself, and I 
 recollected certain dinners .... but I shall come 
 to this subject hereafter. 
 
 " The two sittings of ^the Convention," mur- 
 mured Real, " had been stormy, and, though the 
 proclamation of the republic had been carried al- 
 most unanimously, yet it met with opposition 
 from a few discontented spirits, who complained 
 that the important measure had not been suffi- 
 ciently matured and discussed. Carrier alluded
 
 8 SITTINGS OF THE CONVENTION. 
 
 to the dissatisfaction of Gensonne, upon which 
 MaximilUan Robespierre observed : 
 
 " Gentlemen, this Gironde is an assemblage 
 ofTartnfes." 
 
 Legendre. — No matter; on the 10th of 
 August, they i)ut their shoulders to the wheel 
 nobly. 
 
 Robespierre. — Parbleu ! They did indeed. 
 
 And, if the Chateau had gained the day, they 
 
 would all have been hanged and we with them. 
 
 Legendre. — Then they are not for the tyrant ? 
 
 Robespierre. — They are for the monarchy. 
 
 They want a king. 
 
 Barr^re. — Or a president. 
 AuGUSTiN. — It is the same thing. 
 R^AL. — No. 
 
 Saint-Just. — Yes. It matters not, king or 
 president ; two heads in one cap ; a Philip VII., 
 instead of a Louis XVI. If such are to be the 
 results, what have we been labouring for ? Those 
 gentlemen of the Gironde are not quite so great 
 as their own ambition. I would lay a good wager 
 that they have already disposed of all the posts 
 in the ministry, and sent us a-packing. 
 
 A discussion now arose on another subject. 
 None of the assembly were favourable to Egalite, 
 who had just then assumed that absurd title. 
 All vowed to unite firmly against him. 
 
 Robespierre (with a look like that of a wolf
 
 PRINCE EGALITE, 9 
 
 thirsting for blood). — Parbleu ! gentlemen, we 
 might strike a grand blow. 
 
 All. — How ? 
 
 Robespierre (lowering his voice). — This is 
 among ourselves. What would you give to him 
 who would furnish you with the means of so 
 completely degrading Egalite, . that he should 
 have no refuge but the grave ; and so deeply 
 embroil the royalists with the Gironde, that any 
 treaty, armistice, or adjustment, should become 
 impossible ? 
 
 Lebas. — Diable ! That would be excellent ! 
 and have you discovered such a plan ? 
 
 Robespierre. — Yes, if you are not faint- 
 hearted. 
 
 CoLLOT d'Herbois. — Pfoofs of Our courage 
 are not wanting ! 
 
 Barrere (with an expression of alarm). — This 
 is something serious. 
 
 Robespierre. — Gentlemen, to serious evils, 
 we must apply serious remedies. By proclaim- 
 ing the republic, we have passed the rubicon. 
 Let us continue our march ; Louis must be 
 brought to judgment, condemned to death, and 
 executed. 
 
 All.— Ah ! 
 
 Santerre. — The King condemned to death ! 
 the constitution declares him inviolable. 
 
 Robespierre. — Lebas, Couthon, R^al, Saint-
 
 10 PROl'OSRD DEATH OF THE KING. 
 
 Just, in short all of us here, except Fouquier and 
 yourself, are also inviolable, by virtue of the 
 same constitution; and yet, if the republic 
 should demand our heads, we must forfeit them, 
 in spite of that same constitution. 
 
 Real. — Gentlemen, it appears to me that 
 Robespierre is in the wrong. The King cannot 
 be tried. 
 
 AuGUSTiN. — Silence, aristocrat ! Agent of Pitt 
 and Coburg ! 
 
 Real. — I say we are overstepping our power. 
 
 Carrier. — We are all-powerful against a 
 tyrant. 
 
 FouQuiER-TiNviLLE. — It is Certain that if 
 the head of Capet fall with the concurrence 
 of Egalite and the Girondins, they will get 
 into terrible disgrace with the respectable class 
 of people. 
 
 Saint-Just. — What do you mean, by res- 
 pectable people, Fouquier ? Are we brigands ? 
 
 Fouquier. — Words have changed their mean- 
 ings. The term respectable people fgens de 
 bienj is synonymous with traitors ;— canaille 
 means good citizens. 
 
 Barrere. — Take the life of the King ! It 
 is a grand — patriotic idea ! Will it be popular ? 
 
 Robespierre. — Yes ! with the aid of Sainte 
 Peur. (Laughter.) That Saint whom Danton 
 created on the 2nd and 3rd instant, and who
 
 THE PLAIN, MOUNTAIN, AND MARSH. 11 
 
 now keeps Paris in awe. Frighten the Plain, 
 and it will vote with us ; the Girondins will 
 be for the cause of liberty. As to Egalite, he 
 will commit 
 
 Real. — What is the Plain ? 
 
 Robespierre. — The lower benches of the 
 assembly — which are occupied by the insane 
 moderates, those monsters who recommend con- 
 cord, when blood ought to flow in torrents. The 
 Mountain shall be the high benches, whence we 
 will overwhelm the plain, and command the 
 marsh. By the latter term, I mean the centre, 
 which is occupied by those sleepers, who awake 
 only to vote with the majority. 
 
 " It was," continued Real, addressing us, 
 " the elder of the Robespierres who, on the very 
 first day of the Convention, created those terms 
 which subsequently became the watch-words of 
 so much agitation and crime. As to me, I felt 
 myself ill at ease in this conventicle. It was 
 urged that the question was inopportune, and a 
 warm discussion ensued on this point. Robes- 
 pierre knew that Danton, Fab re d 'Eglantine, 
 Camille-Desmoulins, Hebert, Brissot, Louvet, 
 Condorcet, Dumouriez, Valence, Gorsas, Fon- 
 frede, Barras, Tallien, Marat, Manuel-Petion, 
 Voidel, Genlis, Le Pelletier-Saint-Fargeau, Cha- 
 teau-Neuf, Randon-Vadier, and others belonged 
 to the Egalite faction, round whom the Giron-
 
 12 CARRIER AND ROBESPIERRE. 
 
 dins, in despair of success, would rally. To put 
 the King to death, was to complete the anni- 
 hilation of royalty : to oblige Egahte to co- 
 operate in the regicide, was to render him for 
 ever incapable of wearing the crown, by what- 
 ever title it might be offered to him. Thus 
 Egalite, though a participator in the crime, 
 would reap no advantage from it : the whole 
 benefit would revert to Robespierre and his 
 party." 
 
 These considerations had their due weight 
 in the minds of the majority of the assembly, 
 and determined them to take the decisive step. 
 It was resolved that the King should be brought 
 to trial, as soon as the urgent business, then in 
 progress, could be settled ; and that the trial, 
 when once commenced, should be actively car- 
 ried on to its close. Carrier was heard to 
 observe, " Even though Capet should escape, 
 a more lucky Gth of October, 20th of June, or 
 10th of August, will rid us of him." 
 
 " Fool !" replied Robespierre, " what shall we 
 gain by this measure, if it be executed by vio- 
 lence ? We must have a well grounded charge, 
 an open investigation, counsel for the accused, 
 in short, a trial lawfully instituted, maintained, 
 and decided. His head must fall in due legal 
 form : this will produce an effect ; will make 
 Europe tremble, and secure to us the support of
 
 FOUQUIER-TINVILLE. 13 
 
 the citizens — for they will be our accomplices. 
 We shall receive addresses of congratulation 
 and adherence from every commune and town 
 in France." 
 
 The sitting rose. Mademoiselle Duplay, 
 Maximillian Robespierre's mistress, entered and 
 announced Marat. I signified my intention of 
 retiring. Fouquier-Tinville and Santerre went 
 away with me. The latter passed through the 
 Rue Saint-Honore. He seemed to be going to 
 the Palais-Royal, for he took leave of us on the 
 Place, and entered one of the turnings leading 
 to the Palais. Fouquier and I continued our 
 course along the Rue Saint-Honore. I lodged 
 at No. 75. When we were alone, Fouquier said 
 to me : 
 
 " I could wager that he is going to denounce 
 us. He is sold to Orleans. To whom do you 
 belong ?" 
 ^" To myself." 
 
 "Bah! That is madness! In these times, 
 every man must devote himself to a leader. 
 Join Robespierre." 
 
 * ' Wliy ? A member of the sovereign people 
 ought to maintain his independence." 
 
 '* You are wrong. You will be set down as a 
 royalist." 
 
 '* I can show proofs to the contrary. I am a 
 friend to the republic."
 
 14 ANKCDOTE RELATED BY CAMBACERES. 
 
 " I assure you, gentlemen," pursued Real, 
 addressing himself to us, " I spoke the truth. 
 At that time, I was a sincere democrat. I have 
 changed my opinions since then, and I am 
 now a monarchist." He then resumed his nar- 
 rative. 
 
 " Foaquier appeared to me to be a man already 
 sold to Robespierre. This threw a light upon 
 me. J was averse to the sentence of death. I 
 put myself on the watch, and I could plainly 
 perceive that the plan which had been proposed 
 at Robespierre's, was gradually developing itself 
 in other places. Egalite, though well cautioned, 
 could neither avert the trial, nor refrain from 
 taking part in it. He, the King's nearest relation, 
 accepted the office of his judge : from that mo- 
 ment, he was lost. He was afterwards regarded 
 w^ith a feeling of repugnance ; and it was scarcely 
 considered a subject of regret, when, in his turn, 
 he mounted the scaffold. Thus ends my story." 
 
 We rose from our seats, and thanked Real. 
 Excited by the compliments which Fabre de 
 I'Aude and I lavished on the ex-senator, Prince 
 Cambac^r^s rubbed his hands, and said : 
 
 *' It is indeed a very interesting story. Would 
 you Uke to hear one which I can tell you, 
 and which relates to the same period ?" 
 
 "Yes!" we all exclaimed with one voice; 
 and the Prince thus commenced —
 
 THE DUKE OF ORLEANS. 15 
 
 " When I was chosen a member of the Na- 
 tional Convention by my Department (Herault) , 
 I lodged in Paris, at the Hotel de Beam, 
 Rue Feydeau. I occupied a modest set of 
 apartments on the third story without an anti- 
 chamber. One morning, about eight o'clock, 
 I heard a knocking at my door : the key was 
 on the outside. Come in, said I, and two 
 persons entered. One was Voidel, and the 
 other was the Duke of Orleans. I rose from my 
 chair and began to stammer out some apologies 
 for my humble abode. 
 
 " ' Never mind, my dear colleague,' said 
 Voidel. ' I have come to introduce you to one 
 of ourselves ; an excellent patriot, animated 
 with the desire to render France happy. He 
 wishes to know you, and requested that I would 
 bring him here.' 
 
 " I again commenced my protestations. I 
 could not conceive why the first Prince of the 
 blood, instead of summoning me to his palace, 
 should come to visit me in my obscure retreat. 
 As to the Duke, his manner was embarrassed 
 and restrained. His exquisite tact evidently re- 
 proached him for the course he was pursuing. 
 Voidel took his leave, saying he had some visits 
 to make, and left me alone with the Most 
 Serene Highness of the day. The Duke of Or- 
 leans, opening the conversation, said in a low 
 tone of voice :
 
 IG KXTRAOKOlNAllY STATEMENT. 
 
 " ' My dear colleague, you see before you 
 a very unfortunate man. I am surrounded by 
 enemies who traduce me, who misrepresent my 
 actions, and even my thoughts. At first, I was 
 accused of conspiracy against Louis XVI. ; now 
 it is alleged that I aspire to the attainment of 
 despotic power, under the title of President, 
 Protector, Consul or anything else they may 
 invent. It is certain that my sentiments are 
 those of the French people. For upwards of 
 four years, I have been fighting in the cause of 
 France, and serving her with my fortune and 
 my influence ; my eldest sons are in the army ; 
 I have renounced all distinction. Yesterday 
 evening (this interview occurred on the 1 7th of 
 September,) I went even farther — I went very 
 far — perhaps a greater length than I should 
 have gone .... In short, by the help of a patriotic 
 fiction, I endeavoured to prove my aversion 
 to continue the course that has been pursued.' 
 
 "He paused and hesitated, then said a few 
 words, and paused again. He looked at me 
 steadfastly, and I observed that he turned pale. 
 
 " 'You doubtless know what I did yesterday 
 at the Jacobins ?' 
 
 " No, Monseigneur, I replied ; I have been 
 very unwell for the last few days, and have been 
 confined to my room. Your serene highness 
 and Voidel are the first visitors who have broken 
 my solitude ; consequently, I cannot know
 
 OBJECTIONS TO TITLES. 1 7 
 
 any thing that Monseigneur may have done or 
 said. 
 
 " ' Why do you constantly repeat Mon- 
 seigneur and your highness ? I assure you, 
 my dear colleague, I have voluntarily relin- 
 quished those titles and qualifications ; therefore, 
 call me simply Sir, if you do not choose to call 
 me your colleague ; though the latter appella- 
 tion is the one in which I pride myself.' 
 
 " I bowed. These words surprised me. Where 
 a man derives distinctions from his birth, or 
 social position ; or, when he has solicited or 
 accepted distinctions, he ought not to relinquish 
 them voluntarily. For example, would it not 
 be absurd in me to reprove M. Langon, whose 
 superior I have been in the council of state, 
 when he addressed me by the titles of prince 
 and serene highness ? In public, I should not 
 have addressed the Duke of Orleans by titles, 
 which were interdicted by law, and still more by 
 prudence ; but, in a private interview, I con- 
 ceived it proper for me to use them, and for 
 him to receive them : but, to proceed with my 
 story. 
 
 " I bowed silently and respectfully, and, after 
 kindly shaking my hand, the Prince thus con- 
 tinued : 
 
 " 'You must know, then, that urged by the 
 desire of separating myself from the past, to 
 
 VOL. I. c
 
 18 LECJITIMACY DISAVOWED. 
 
 afford no pretext for calumny, and in order to 
 be consistent with tlie new and flattering title 
 of civic adoption, accorded to me by the city 
 of Paris, I thought it incumbent on me to 
 declare, at the meeting of the Jacobins, that — 
 I said it jokingly — not exactly jokingly— I was 
 serious, quite serious — Ah, Monsieur de Cam- 
 bacer^s ! if you knew what a dilficult position I 
 stand in, and what sacrifices I must make to 
 extricate myself from it !' 
 
 " These broken sentences, and the Prince's 
 evident hesitation to make me acquainted wdth 
 something, which he nevertheless wished to tell, 
 roused my curiosity. I sat in silent suspense, 
 with my eyes cast down, puzzled to guess what 
 was to follow these last words ; though I confess 
 all my conjectures were far enough from the 
 truth. At length, after some equally mysterious 
 circumlocution, the prince informed me that, on 
 the preceding evening, urged by some fatal 
 inspiration, he had conceived the notion that, 
 by raising doubts of the legitimacy of his birth, 
 he should succeed in mitigating, as far as con- 
 cerned himself, the violent hatred cherished by 
 the sans culottes against the royal family. Doubt- 
 less, if he had had time for reflection, he w^ould 
 have resorted to some less ignominious stra- 
 tagem ; but the unfortunate Prince had one 
 earnest wish to gratify; and that was to live, 
 and, if ])ossib]e, to die in France.
 
 FALLEN GREATNESS. 19 
 
 " I hope I am not wanting in due consi- 
 deration for misfortune ; I am aware of the 
 sacrifices which it is necessary to make to cir- 
 cumstances, and I knew too well, at that time, 
 how presence of mind may be paralyzed by the 
 fear of a speedy and horrible death. Never- 
 theless, what I heard from the Prince filled me 
 with amazement, and m}?^ countenance no doubt 
 expressed the bewilderment into which the 
 Duke's extraordinary disclosure threw me. I 
 was at a loss to comprehend how a man, having 
 the good fortune to possess the noblest name in 
 the world, should renounce it, not only without 
 compulsion, but voluntarily ; instead of pre- 
 ferring torture, or death, to the loss of it ! 
 
 For a moment, I suspected the possibility of a 
 mystification, but I repelled the idea. Since 
 the Prince had ventured to tell me what I had 
 just heard, it must necessarily be true. 
 
 " Ah Monseigneur ! I exclaimed, you speak 
 as Tacitus wrote. 
 
 "'My dear Sir,' resumed the Prince, 'no 
 flattery, — I am fallen. You disapprove of what 
 I have done, — I am sensible of my error; but, 
 1 liave a large fortune, children, and friends. 
 I love France, and, rather than quit my country, 
 I would descend to the regions below. Hence- 
 forth, I presume they will let me live at my ease, 
 and I trust that the revolution will adopt me 
 
 c 2
 
 20 AN ARTFUL HINT. 
 
 in emulation of the city of Paris. My dear 
 colleai;uc,' he ackkul, drawing his chair cloa^r to 
 mine, ' are you not tired of this state of things? 
 Would you not rejoice to see a change for the 
 better ?' 
 
 " I should rejoice, said I, eagerly seizing the 
 opportunity to change the conversation, to see 
 the sovereignty of the laws, and the establish- 
 ment of true principles of wisdom and mode- 
 ration, without pillage, or bloodshed. 
 
 " ' That is what I also wish to see : it is what 
 you desire in common with me.' 
 
 " This was coming to the point. I smiled. 
 I knew the Prince to be artful, and I was fully 
 sensible of the danger I should incur by en- 
 tering into his indirect confidence. He, encou- 
 raged by what he imagined to be an approving 
 movement of my lips, thus proceeded : 
 
 " ' Yes, if I should be deemed worthy — 
 capable of conducting affairs prudently — whether 
 under the title of president, protector, first con- 
 sul, or even dauphin— I pledge my word that 
 men of your stamp should compose my council, 
 and that I should feel pleasure in making you 
 amends beforehand, for the injustice of fortune.' 
 
 "My dear colleague, said I, pronouncing the 
 qualification emphatically, I thank you for this 
 proof of your confidence. I am flattered by it, 
 and, in return, I promise to bury it in inviolable
 
 INFLUENCE OF THE QUEEN. 21 
 
 secrecy. As to the subject to which it refers, 
 I think it at present inopportune. See how we 
 are situated. Consider what you were forced 
 to say yesterday, and what would be the result 
 of a demand for sovereign power, even for you. 
 
 "'Yes, I seethe difficulty— but, with per- 
 severance, numerous and warm friends, and 
 money judiciously applied — I have opened 
 my mind to you, because I know you to be 
 prudent and intelligent. Voidel has likewise 
 spoken to you .... I have all the leading men 
 of the cap of hberty party, besides the Gi- 
 rondins with whom I am treating : — T have 
 Marat, Danton, Robespierre, Santerre, Barras, 
 Condorcet ! ' 
 
 "I let him run on, though I was not a little 
 astonished at the array of names which he had 
 set down on his list. But men situated as the 
 Duke then was, are so ready to delude them- 
 selves by chimeras. To hear him, 1 might have 
 supposed he could count on two thirds of the 
 Convention. 
 
 " And Louis XVI, said I, what of him ? 
 
 " ' Ah ! there is the embarrassing point. But 
 Louis would listen to reason, were it not 
 for the Queen. It has been proposed to me 
 . . . but no. . . .1 will never consent to it. . . .1 
 should shrink with horror from a sceptre stained 
 ) bv the blood of mv relation, and of him who
 
 'J2 (^UiAI.lTU's FAMILIARS. 
 
 was my sovereign.' (This was said on the 
 17tli of September," observed Cambacer^s. 
 " JMark tliat, Gentlemen!) 'It is necessary 
 that the King should leave the Temple.... 
 should quit France, and then ... ' 
 
 " Here the Duke of Orleans paused, and re- 
 mained for some minutes absorbed in his own 
 retlections — then, drawing out his watch, he 
 said : — 
 
 " ' Ten o'clock already ; Petion is waiting for 
 me at Mousseaux. He is one of our party — I hope 
 you will soon know them all . . . Adieu, Monsieur 
 Cambaceres. Then the matter is understood be- 
 tween us. Adieu ! Speak to Voidel, or Laclos, 
 about the arrangements. They are my fami- 
 liars.' (laughing.) 
 
 " Indeed, Prince, said I, then what are we 
 to be called?" 
 
 " ' Oh! the parties present are always ex- 
 cepted. You will dine to-morrow at the Palais 
 Royal. Adieu 1' 
 
 " He left me, and I began to reflect on 
 his conduct of the preceding evening. Into 
 what a gulph had he j^lunged, in the hope of 
 mounting a throne ! How was he to extricate 
 himself from the difficulties with which he was 
 surrounded ? What magnanimity ! what heroism 
 would be required ! 
 
 " I went to dine next day at the Palais Royal ;
 
 CAMBAC^RES AND BONAPARTE. 23 
 
 but I had no opportunity of conversing privately, 
 either with Laclos, or Voidel. Subsequent events 
 carried me insensibly so far from Egalite, that 
 I passed before his scaffold to fill the place as- 
 signed to me as the second person in the state. 
 I have had an important part to play." 
 
 Cambaceres had become quite animated, whilst 
 relating the above story, and, when it was ended, 
 he said, rubbing his hands: " Gentlemen, this 
 reminds me of my first interview with another 
 personage much more worthy your attention — 1 
 mean the Emperor." 
 
 Fabre de l'Aude. — Where did your Serene 
 Highness first see him ? 
 
 Prince Cambaceres. — You shall hear. 
 About the end of the year 1794, after the 9tli 
 Thermidor, there was a president of the com- 
 mittee of war, named Aubry. He was a man 
 of no capacity, without a particle of military 
 talent, and, consequently, the avowed enemy of 
 all superior merit. For example, he never par- 
 doned any one who got promoted before him 
 and left him in the rear. Thus, he was fu- 
 riously enraged against a certain Corsican, who 
 had taken Toulon, in spite of the stupid Car- 
 teaux, the imbecile Doppet, and the English ; 
 and who, having subsequently become a general, 
 completed, in the space of a few days, a brilliant 
 campaign on the other side of the Alps.
 
 U-l TIIK YOUNCi AND OLH GENERAL. 
 
 Aubry owed a bitter grudge to the little 
 general, whom he often reproached for his 
 youth. ' One soon grows old on the field of 
 battle, and I am getting on,' was the reply to 
 these reproaches. Aubry got up a malicious 
 chai'ge, and the result was, that the general, at 
 once young and old, was suspended. Amidst 
 the blundering and mismanagement which then 
 prevailed in all matters of business, I was 
 made one of the committee of war. Imagine 
 how well fitted I was for the appointment. The 
 case of the suspension was presented to me, 
 accompanied by a report of disobedience. Aubry 
 made a very long face. He wanted the case to 
 be regarded as a matter of vast importance, 
 and was astonished to find that I treated it with 
 indifference. I should have been as much as- 
 tonished if he had presumed to pronounce an 
 opinion on a question of jurisprudence ! I 
 contented myself with signing the paper, in my 
 turn, and throwing all the responsibility on 
 him. 
 
 Some time after this, when I was lodging in 
 the Rue Chabannais, I was startled by a knock 
 at my door early one morning. The knock 
 was somewhat louder than that given by the 
 Duke of Orleans, when he had honoured me with a 
 visit about two years previously. I requested my 
 visitor to enter, and I saw before me a Uttle,
 
 BONAPARTE DESCRIBED. 25 
 
 thin, sallow complexioned man. His ill arranged 
 hair was hanging down in the curls called oreilles 
 de chieriy which were in fashion at that time. He 
 was very badly dressed — his boots were too short, 
 his coat too long, his cravat horridly wrinkled, 
 and his hat bearing evidence of long service. 
 Disfigured as he was by these shabby habili- 
 ments, I could not help remarking his white and 
 beautifully formed hands, and his mouth, which 
 was inconceivably handsome, especially when 
 animated by either a good natured or a satirical 
 smile. And then his eyes ! . .what eyes they 
 were ! .... as brilliant as those of the lion, or 
 the eagle : — at once gentle, fierce, penetrating 
 and confiding. .. .expressive of sublime genius 
 and magnanimity. His fine teeth, also, attracted 
 my attention. He had, altogether, the air of a 
 sovereign in the garb of a beggar; or, perhaps, 
 I may say he looked hke Jupiter, when he 
 visited Baucis and Philemon. Add to this, a 
 full, sonorous and clear toned voice, easy un- 
 affected, yet dignified and commanding, manners. 
 Superiority of intellect was marked in every look 
 and gesture : — in short, his appearance produced 
 upon me an immediate and irresistible fasci- 
 nation. I was under a spell. I felt that I was 
 in the presence of a man who commanded my 
 respect and admiration. Such, at least, is the 
 impression he produced on me at first siglit.
 
 2G KKKOK ACKNOWLEDGED. 
 
 Fabre de l'Aude. — He made the same im- 
 pression on me. My first rencontre with him is 
 quite a history. 
 
 Real. — And so is mine. I tremble, even now, 
 when I think of it. 
 
 Myself, — I shall never forget the first time I 
 saw him. 
 
 Prince CAMBAciRfes. — Well, you shall each 
 in your turn describe that memorable day of 
 your lives. Meanwhile, let me proceed with my 
 story. 
 
 " ' Citizen!' said my visitor, ' I am General 
 Napoleon Bonaparte, whom you have unjustly 
 suspended.' 
 
 " General, I replied, I fear there has been 
 some mistake. Doubtless there w^as an error. . . . 
 and I am afraid I committed it. 
 
 " ' That is wisely said ! None but fools 
 lay claim to infallibility, the Pope excepted.' 
 
 " Truly, General, said I, laughing, you 
 would be fully justified in blaming me, if I 
 had considered the case as anything more than 
 a matter of form. It would have been most 
 absurd in me to have pretended to judge you as a 
 military man. I merely saw the pubhc functiona- 
 ries refusing obedience to the constituted au- 
 thority. The fact is clear. You must admit that I 
 acted as any other person would do in my place. 
 But now to deal candidly with you ; I wilhngly
 
 BONAPARTE COMPLIMENTED. 27 
 
 acknowledge that I treated you with great in- 
 justice. You are one of those who ought to be 
 advanced, instead of being kept back among 
 the common crowd. I know" we are indebted 
 to you for the taking of Toulon, and the taking 
 of Toulon saved the republic. Your merit ex- 
 cites envy. People who have no talent cannot 
 endure those who have any. But, have a little 
 patience ; you will work your way to your proper 
 rank, if they do not speedily assign it to you as 
 they should do. 
 
 " You see," continued Cambaceres, " thatmy 
 compliments were w^ell turned, or, as M. Pour- 
 ceaugnac says, assez Men trousses. The General 
 had come with the intention of reproving me , 
 and we parted on friendly terms. He called 
 on me again, admitted me to his confidence, and 
 opened a correspondence with me about Italy 
 and Egypt ; — in short, he admitted me to his 
 friendship. . , .You know the rest. Now, Count 
 Fabre de I'Aude, let us hear your story." 
 
 " I knew General Bonaparte only by name," 
 said Count Fabre de I'Aude, " by the brilliant 
 reputation he had earned at Toulon, and his 
 first campaign of the Alps. There was at that 
 time in the south of France, a Sieur P. . . . an 
 ill disposed, envious, malignant creature who, 
 in addition to all his other bad qualities, was 
 avaricious and eager to grasp money, no matter
 
 28 STORY BY FABIIE DE l'aUDE. 
 
 by wlmt means. One day, this miserable fellow 
 entered my apartments pale, dejected, and 
 apparently almost frightened out of his senses. 
 
 " You ^vill be hanged to a certainty, said 
 1. They are in pursuit of you. 
 
 " ' Alas ! I am innocent ! My only object was 
 to save the republic' 
 
 " To save the republic, truly, by your ro- 
 guery. I know you well. 
 
 " * For the sake of my poor father, of my 
 mother whom you respect, of my brother. . . .' 
 
 " It is lucky for you that you are connected 
 with so many respectable people. Let me 
 hear what you have to say for yourself, 
 
 " At this moment a loud knocking was heard 
 at the outer door. ([ then lodged in the Rue 
 Coq-Heron, No. 63) I trembled, and P. . . . 
 uttering a cry of terror, looked around him with 
 an air of bewilderment : then, after a moment's 
 pause, he made a spring, and, by a miracle of 
 agility, he leaped completely over my bed and 
 concealed himself by crouching down in the 
 space between the bedstead and the wall. The 
 
 door opened and a man entered But why 
 
 should I attempt to describe him ? . . . It w^as 
 General Bonaparte. The portrait which Prince 
 Cambacer^s just now drew of him, is better 
 than any I could trace. His eye flashed with 
 rage, and, though innocent, I was almost as 
 much awed as the criminal.
 
 A LUCKY ESCAPE. 29 
 
 " ' I presume I am in the presence of Citizen 
 Fabre de I'Aude ?' 
 
 " Yes, citizen, and I have the honour to 
 address General Bonaparte ? 
 
 ' ' ' The same : I have come to inquire whether 
 you can furnish me with any information re- 
 lating to a villain, a forger, a calumniator. 
 I wiU make an end of him, Citizen Five-Hun- 
 dred, if I catch him. The rascal shall die by 
 my hand. He comes from Carcassonne.' 
 
 " He does. 
 
 " ' He is of a respectable family V 
 
 " Yes. 
 
 " ' Whom he has disgraced, but whom I will 
 avenge.' 
 
 " What offence has he committed Gene- 
 ral? 
 
 " ' He has been corresponding with the En- 
 glish cabinet under my name, and has de- 
 nounced me to the Directory as a traitor to my 
 country. What do you think of that, Citizen 
 Fabre ?' 
 
 " That any one has a good right to hang 
 him, except yourself, General Bonaparte. You 
 tire a hero. 
 
 " ' I am a man of honour, audit is my duty 
 to punish the villain. I request that you will give 
 me his address.' 
 
 " And I request that you will grant his 
 pardon.
 
 30 VISIT TO .NfADAMF. BONAPARTE. 
 
 " I then made some observations, with the 
 view of convincing the General how much he 
 would dei^rade himseh' by taking revenge on so 
 contem])tible an enemy. 
 
 " ' You are ri2:ht,' said he, after a moment's 
 reflection, and raising his hand to his eyes, ' I 
 will spare his life, but it must be only on con- 
 dition of your making him retract and confess 
 his turpitude. Let this point be clearly under- 
 stood, without any room for evasion. The 
 explanation must leave him black as ink, and 
 me white as snow. On that condition, I will 
 spare him, but on no other.' 
 
 " This ultimatum, which was delivered in a 
 voice of thunder, was not calculated to meet 
 with objection, or resistance. I promised in the 
 name of P. . . . all that was required, and the 
 General then said : ' 
 
 " ' Citizen Five-Hundred, (these were his 
 words) I am dehghted to have made your ac- 
 quaintance. Come and see me ; I am going to 
 be married to-morrow, and it will not be long 
 before I quit Paris. Honest men should meet 
 together.' 
 
 " I accepted his invitation to visit him. After 
 his marriage, I went to pay my respects to 
 Mme. Bonaparte. The newly married couple 
 admitted me to their intimacy; and I did not 
 prove myself undeserving of it. I met at their
 
 OPINION OF BONAPARTE. 31 
 
 house one of my colleagues, Ozun, who was, 
 like myself, a member of the Council of Five- 
 Hundred. He was a man of considerable talent, 
 and was devotedly attached to General Bona- 
 parte. Thus, a double link of friendship was 
 formed between us. After his departure for Italy, 
 he wrote to me often. A year had not elapsed, 
 when Ozun, in the course of conversation, one 
 day said to me : 
 
 " ' The General might be placed at the head 
 of the government. His talent is universal, and 
 he would govern and legislate as well as he 
 fights. In short, he is a man without an 
 equal.' 
 
 " I acquainted the General with what Ozun 
 had said. His reply was, that the pear was not 
 ripe, and that he never hurried things. However, 
 our indiscretion did not injure us in his good 
 opinion : on the contrary, I think it helped to 
 recommend us to favour, as subsequent occur- 
 rences proved. 
 
 " A short time after this, I had an opportunity 
 of acquainting Bonaparte with the ill-feeling 
 entertained towards him by the Directory ; but 
 he knew it without my information. I was a 
 spectator, rather than an actor, on the occasion 
 of the 18th Fructidor. I observed the dissatisfac- 
 tion of Barras. At one moment, he attempted 
 to turn against the General the revolution which
 
 32 DEPARTURE FOR EGYPT. 
 
 liad been undertaken with his concurrence. 
 Tliis circumstance is not generally known : I will 
 explain it to you some other time. Barras 
 tailed to accomplish his base design. Neverthe- 
 less, Bonaparte heard of it, and the lion began to 
 roar. To appease him, it was proposed that he 
 should go to Egypt. He departed, and our 
 correspondence continued. One day, when I 
 w^as writing to him, I overstepped the bounds of 
 my reserve. Shall I give you a specimen of my 
 style of writing at that time ?" 
 
 We all with one voice signified our eager 
 curiosity. Count Fabre reflected for a few mo- 
 ments, and then repeated to us (such was the 
 retentive power of his memory) a letter couched 
 in nearly the following terms : 
 
 Paris, August 12th 1799. 
 
 " General, 
 
 " Things are going from bad to worse. No 
 more victories abroad, and at home nothing but 
 
 famine, pillage and oppression ; abroad 
 
 neither credit nor respect ; at home, listlessness 
 and w^ant of spirit. We are lost, unless speedily 
 aided by a firm hand. That hand is not in 
 France, nor even in Europe : yet, without it, all 
 will be compromised and ruined. 
 
 " Negociations have been set on foot with
 
 CORRESPONDENCE WITH BONAPARTE. 33 
 
 the Bourbons. Their return now would be 
 fatal to us ; though, perhaps, not so hereafter. 
 Meanwhile, you are lost sight of, and all this is 
 done by four or five men at most ; for the rest 
 of the republic look only to the conqueror of 
 Italy, the hero of Malta and of the Pyramids. 
 You belong to your country, and your proper 
 place is not in Cairo, but in Paris. Come, then, 
 ....we anxiously await you. With you we 
 shall be strong ; without you, all is lost. In sum- 
 moning you hither, I am but the trumpet of the 
 immense majority. You belong not to a few, 
 but to all. Even those who fear you, look to 
 you for their salvation. I send you an exact 
 account of the state of affairs, together with the 
 names of those on whom you may count, and 
 also the names of the hostile and the timid. 
 Examine and reflect. Would you have us turn 
 to Moreau ? surely not — and yet things cannot 
 continue thus. Assistance must come from 
 abroad ; and it depends on you whether it shall 
 come from the south or the north." 
 
 " After despatching this missive, I was not 
 utterly free from alarm. I was surrounded by 
 rogues, w^ho had a keen scent. However, I 
 escaped detection. Some time afterwards, I re- 
 ceived an answer, which I conceived it to be my 
 duty to sacrifice to prudence. This answer 
 was, if my memory serves me, as follows — 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 34 A CELEBRATED PHRASE. 
 
 " * One thing is certain, namely, that I have 
 nothing more to do in Egypt .... I can easily 
 iraai'ine the emharrassed state of France, badly 
 as she is governed, and fiercely as she is as- 
 sailed I am ready to sacrifice myself in her 
 
 cause. We shall be taxed with ambition, be- 
 cause we draw her out of the abyss No 
 
 matter ; let us do our duty, without regarding 
 
 the clamour of the mob. I knew to be 
 
 a contemptible fellow, but I did not think him a 
 traitor. The Bourbons !!.... They can never 
 return, except by marching over two hundred thou- 
 sand dead bodies ' " 
 
 R6al. — (interrupting Count Fabre) That is 
 precisely the phrase he used in his letter to 
 Louis XVllI. 
 
 Count Fabre. — True : it is the same. That 
 only proves how permanently he entertained 
 the idea. 
 
 " ' As to Moreau,' continued Napoleon in his 
 letter, ' he may be driven aside with a thrust 
 of one's shoulder.' 
 
 We all laughed at hearing Moreau thus admi- 
 rably characterized. 
 
 " ' I shall speedily rejoin you : the sooner the 
 better. If your notes be correct, the danger is 
 imminent, and the resources immense .... I will 
 come, and I will see . . . . ' 
 
 " He arrived twenty-five days after I received
 
 PROPOSED MISSION TO RASTADT. 35 
 
 the above letter. I need not proceed further ; 
 it would be entering upon too long a story : 
 I reserve the rest for another time. Count 
 Real, I throw the ball to you. Give us an ac- 
 count of your first interview with General 
 Bonaparte." 
 
 Count Ri^al. — After the campaigns of Italy, 
 the Directory, with the view of retarding Bona- 
 parte's arrival in Paris, proposed sending him to 
 Rastadt, where negociations for peace were to be 
 opened. Our Directors were afraid of him, and 
 subsequent events proved that their fears were 
 not unfounded. They trembled at the very 
 name of the young General who, in less than two 
 years, had earned a colossal reputation. His 
 glory eclipsed that of all his contemporaries ; 
 and, if the other generals of the republic were 
 ever spoken of, it was only when conversation 
 was exhausted on the theme of General Bo- 
 naparte. 
 
 I was frequently in company with Barras, 
 and he used to converse with me confidentially. 
 I don't know why it was, but he, more than any 
 of his colleagues, betrayed symptoms of dissatis- 
 faction when he heard praises lavished on 
 General Bonaparte, which, as may be supposed, 
 was not unfrequently. The General was sent to 
 Rastadt, in the hope that he would be detained 
 there till the close of the conferences. But they 
 
 D 2
 
 30 AN UNEXPECTED SUMMONS. 
 
 little knew him who flattered themselves with 
 this hope. He felt that Paris was his proper 
 place, and there he speedily presented himself. 
 About two o'clock one morning I was at 
 home, and had retired to bed, when I was 
 alarmed by a knocking at my door. I say 
 alarmed, for at that time every thing excited 
 fear. I called out : who is there ? — " I have 
 brought a dispatch from Citizen Director Barras," 
 was the answer. Diable ! I was overwhelmed 
 with forebodings. The candles were lighted, 
 and I opened the fearful missive. It contained 
 only the following words : — 
 
 " I beg that my good friend Real will come 
 to me without a moment's delay." 
 
 fSignedJ Barras. 
 
 At that time, the request of a Director was 
 equivalent to the command of a prince of the 
 old regime. Though greatly fatigued and in 
 want of sleep, I immediately rose. I interro- 
 gated the messenger: "Has anything hap- 
 pened ? — Is there any conspiracy ?'' I inquired ; 
 but I could obtain no satisfactory answer. I 
 became more and more alarmed, and, having 
 hastily dressed myself, the messenger and I got 
 into a fiacre which was waiting for us at the 
 door: — the coachman smacked his w^hip, and 
 we drove ofl^.
 
 CONVERSATION WITH BARRAS. 
 
 37 
 
 The Luxembourg was guarded like a gar- 
 rison, and my conductor had to give various 
 pass words before we reached the cabinet of the 
 director. 
 
 Barras was up, and was writing by lamp 
 light. As soon as I entered, he rose from his 
 seat, advanced towards me, and cordially pressed 
 my hand. This reception somewhat cheered me, 
 and helped to dispel the gloomy pictures which 
 my imagination had conjured up. 
 
 " I am afraid you have been roused from 
 your sleep ?" said Barras in a tone of kindness. 
 
 " Indeed I have,'' replied I, — " I was enjoying 
 very sound slumber." 
 
 " How happy you are to be able to sleep ! 
 . . as to me, I never know the luxury of closing 
 my eyes, except by the help of an opiate, or after 
 being exhausted by the most horrible fatigue." 
 
 " But you are a Director !" 
 
 " And, like Damocles, the sword is sus- 
 pended by a hair over my head .... Have you 
 heard the news?" 
 
 " What news?" 
 
 " Bonaparte has arrived." 
 
 " When?" 
 
 " A few hours ago. . . . At midnight. He is 
 an unsettled dissatisfied spirit . . He is now storm- 
 ing and raging. ." 
 
 " About what?"
 
 38 UNFOUNDED SCANDAL. 
 
 " Indeed I scarcely know. Somebody, it 
 Avovdd seem, has been cramming him with false- 
 hoods and making him believe — " 
 
 I could perceive that Barras was embar- 
 rassed. He walked about the room with 
 hurried steps. He could not prevail on him- 
 self to tell me that Napoleon was jealous, and 
 that a malignant tongue had bred mischief be- 
 tween the General and himself. I dropped 
 a hint on the subject, and Barras, appa- 
 rently dehghted that I had broken the ice, 
 thus proceeded : 
 
 " Yes," said he, " one of Bonaparte's sister's," 
 (he did not inform me which of them, but I 
 believe it was the eldest) " has been telling him 
 some odious tales. His poor wife is inconsolable. 
 I am much annoyed about it. He is determined 
 to make an uproar, and I assure you there is no 
 foundation for it. Now, Real, I wish you to go 
 to him. . .you can speak coolly and reasonably. 
 Ad\ase him to be prudent : and say I am ready 
 to offer any explanation." 
 
 " But I am not acquainted with him." 
 
 " What does that signify? I send you as a 
 messenger of peace. Go !" 
 
 " What, now? At three o'clock in the morn- 
 ing ? I could not see him." 
 
 " You think not?" 
 
 " Most assuredly."
 
 A DIFFICULT MISSION. 39 
 
 " Well, then, go at seven o'clock ; I know he 
 is an early riser." 
 
 I shrugged my shoulders. My mission was 
 a difficult one. But there was no declining it. 
 A Director was then a sort of sovereign. Prince 
 Cambaceres, I believe you were at one time 
 nearly being made a Director ? 
 
 The Prince. — Yes, but some obstacle arose. 
 I owe my consular fortune to my exclusion 
 from the Directory. It was the touchstone 
 which convinced Bonaparte that I was not de- 
 voted to Barras. 
 
 R^AL. — I received my instructions, and de- 
 parted, not a little embarrassed. It was three 
 quarters past six when I entered the Rue Chan- 
 tereine, which had only a few hours previously 
 received its new name of Rue de la Victoire. 
 This was a token of respect from the muni- 
 cipality of Paris to the conqueror of Italy and 
 the pacificator of Europe. Instead of presenting 
 its usual solitude, the street was filled by a 
 crowd of persons, all eager to offer incense 
 at the altar of the new deity. The crowd was 
 chiefly composed of military officers, a class 
 of men for whom independence is ill-suited. 
 The equality of the republic had become odious 
 to them ; and they were impatient to serve some- 
 thing or somebody. These heroes on the field 
 of battle, were humble slaves in the presence of
 
 40 ATTENTION OF JUNOT. 
 
 Najwleon. They seemed to have divmed his 
 future greatness. 
 
 Very few of them succeeded in gaining sight 
 of him ; but no matter — they inscribed their 
 names at the door. I happened to cast my eyes 
 
 on General C , a sort of long serpent, 
 
 who was always creeping at the feet of peo- 
 ple in power ; and, consequently, he made his 
 way in the antichambers rather than in the 
 army. He advanced and embraced me. 
 
 "My dear friend," said he, "are you very 
 intimate with the General in Chief, Bonaparte ? 
 You are very fortunate, and I envy you. Pray 
 assure him how highly I admire " 
 
 I checked him by observing that I had 
 never yet exchanged words with General Bona- 
 parte. He then turned his back, and wished me 
 good morning. Since then, however, he has 
 made ample amends for his coolness, by abun- 
 dance of cringing and bowing, when he saw me 
 on the road to fortune. The civilians, {Messieurs 
 les civils, as the Prince de Benevento called 
 them) never knew how to pay their court so well 
 as the military. 
 
 On this point, we all agreed. 
 
 An aid-de-camp, pursued Count Real, ad- 
 vanced to me : the circumstance of my being 
 a stranger procured me this mark of attention. 
 This aid- de-camp was Junot. He was a hand-
 
 INTERVIEW WITH BONAPARTE. 41 
 
 some young man, of pleasing manners. He was 
 devoted to his General and to his country. His 
 ardent courage and other estimable qualities 
 well entitled him to a better fate than that 
 which awaited him. He inquired what I was 
 waiting for. 
 
 " To see the General," I replied ; " I am sent 
 by one of the Directors/' 
 
 " By which of them ?" 
 
 " I can name him only to the General." 
 
 Junot bowed and retired. In a few mi- 
 nutes after, a servant to whom I had doubtless 
 been described, entered the room. After looking 
 about, and satisfying himself that I was the 
 person he was in search of, he inquired my 
 name, which I had just given to Junot. I 
 repeated it. The servant then conducted me 
 up a narrow staircase and into an entresol, 
 through which I was obliged to creep almost bent 
 double. He opened a door, — I entered, — and 
 found myself within the distance of two feet 
 from General Bonaparte. Darting at me a 
 glance, which I shall always remember, he said : 
 
 " What brings you here, citizen?" 
 
 "The wish to render justice to a man, who 
 has been calumniated and misrepresented to you ; 
 I come " 
 
 " Silence !" exclaimed he in a voice which 
 vibrated through my ears like a peal of thunder,
 
 42 SATISFACTORY EXPLANATION. 
 
 " no one has been calumniated. . . .1 have heard 
 nothing but truth. .. , and death. ..." 
 
 He paused. I confess I felt so ill at ease 
 that I would rather have been in any other 
 place than where I was. However, I was the 
 messenger of peace, and, making an effort to 
 resume my presence of mind, I repeated what 
 Barras had told me. I maintained his inno- 
 cence, and pointed out the interest which certain 
 persons had in creating dissension between him 
 and the General. I affirmed that he never 
 could have boasted of that which was utterly 
 false .... in short, I wound up my pleading with 
 so much energy, that Bonaparte seized me by 
 the button of my coat, and, with a less gloomy 
 expression of countenance than he had hitherto 
 maintained, said : 
 
 " It is possible that I may have been de- 
 ceived .... that they who have reported the mis- 
 chief may have been its inventors » ... It is not 
 the first time I have had to defeat a wicked plot 
 of this sort. But, in this case, circumstances 
 were so precisely detailed " 
 
 He stopped short, I perceived that my argu- 
 ments had produced some effect, and, anxious to 
 follow up my advantage, I observed that the cir- 
 cumstances to which he alluded, were merely un- 
 founded allegations ; —that, on the one hand, 
 there existed a jealousy of his marriage with
 
 VISIT TO THE MUSEUM. 43 
 
 a woman of good family and the widow of a 
 man of rank ; whilst, on the other hand, Madame 
 Bonaparte was envied for the attachment which 
 her husband bore her, I adverted to the im- 
 prudence and indecorum of making known to 
 the public the malignant inventions of his ene- 
 mies. Bonaparte was always ready to listen 
 to the voice of reason. His irritation was 
 gradually appeased, and the storm, which at 
 first threatened to burst with such violence, soon 
 passed away. He dismissed me with a con- 
 ciliatory message. I was overjoyed at my suc- 
 cess. I saw him frequently afterwards ; and, 
 at a latter period of his career, he did me the 
 honour to remember me. He gave me an ap- 
 pointment, and I may venture to say that he 
 was satisfied with me. 
 
 Count Real, having finished his story, my turn 
 came, and I related as follows, the most im- 
 portant incident of my life : — 
 
 One day, when I was strolling idly about 
 Paris, I happened to enter the Place du Louvre. 
 The Imperial Museum caught my eye, and 
 roused me from my reverie. As I possessed a 
 ticket, which was admissible on all days, I 
 thought I would take advantage of it. I pre- 
 sented my ticket at the door, and, being admitted, 
 I hesitated for a moment whether I should first 
 view the picture gallery, or the apartments
 
 44 DIANA HUNTING. 
 
 containing the antiques. My lucky star deter- 
 mined my choice in favour of the latter, and 
 this circumstance was not without its influence 
 on the rest of my life. 
 
 The day was exceedingly dark and cloudy, 
 and I found the salles de.t antiques almost de- 
 serted. Very few visitors were passing through 
 the spacious apartments, and no one was en- 
 gaged in drawing from the statues. I felt no 
 inclination to break from this solitude, which 
 was congenial with the melancholy state of my 
 feelings at the time. I sauntered about, some- 
 times gazing on vacancy, and sometimes ad- 
 miring the sublime specimens of grace and 
 beauty which were grouped around me. 
 
 The Diana hunting, that wonder of art, 
 then stood in the apartment which Prudhom 
 had adorned with the productions of his pencil. 
 The statue rivetted my attention, and I stood 
 for some time thoughtful and motionless before 
 that exquisite representation of immortal grace 
 and beauty. Whilst I was thus rapt in ad- 
 miration, I did not perceive that I was an object 
 of curiosity to a person w^ho had entered the 
 room unperceived by me, and who seemed not 
 a little amused at my enthusiasm, which was the 
 more sincere inasmuch as I was totally ab- 
 stracted. 
 
 The person to whom I allude was of the
 
 PERSON OF NAPOLEON. 45 
 
 middle height ; though, by the effect of an op- 
 tical delusion (which his presence frequently pro- 
 duced) he appeared to me to be of tali stature. 
 This may be accounted for by the extreme 
 dignity of his movements, and an air of majesty, 
 which made even tall men appear little when 
 near him. His eyes, whose glance was so ter- 
 rific when he was roused to anger, exercised 
 an irresistible influence over the hearts of those 
 on whom he looked kindly. Nothing could 
 equal the magical expression of his mouth : — 
 when he smiled, the fascination was irresistible ; 
 and, when compressed by rage, it made the firmest 
 nerves tremble. In those moments, every word 
 to which he gave utterance fell like a thun- 
 derbolt. It was a mouth which could make 
 powerful monarchs tremble, or confer happiness 
 on thousands % a benignant smile. 
 
 But, to return to my scene in the Louvre. 
 The stranger whom I have just been describing 
 stood with one hand hanging carelessly at his 
 side ; the other was raised, and the fingers were 
 passed through the button-holes of his waistcoat 
 of white wadded silk : the hands were remarkable 
 for delicate whiteness and elegance of form. A 
 green uniform coat with two silver epaulets, a 
 small three cornered cocked hat, of a peculiar 
 form, white kerseymere small-clothes, white silk 
 stockings, shoes with gold buckles, the grand
 
 4(l PYGMALION. 
 
 cordon of the legion of honour, almost entirely 
 concealing a sword in a white sheath with a hilt of 
 mothcr-o'-pearl and silver: — such was the dress 
 of lUs Imperial and Royal Majesty, Napoleon 
 Bonaparte, Emperor of the French, and King of 
 Italy, etc. ; for he himself stood before me. 
 
 Napoleon frequently entered the apartments 
 of the Museum by the inner door communicating 
 with the Tuileries. There he would w^alk about 
 by w^ay of relaxation, after long and wearisome 
 confinement in his cabinet. Whilst the Emperor 
 was in the Museum, it was customary not to 
 admit strangers, lest he should be annoyed 
 by idle curiosity ; but, any persons who happened 
 to be in the apartments before he entered, were 
 suffered to remain. On the day to which I 
 have alluded, he had taken it into his head to 
 visit the lower part of the Museum, and my 
 immoveability attracted his notice. 
 
 He had stood for a minute or two looking 
 at me, and, finding that my contemplative reverie 
 was likely to be of long duration, he advanced a 
 few paces, and raising his hand so as to catch 
 my eye, he said : 
 
 " Do not forget. Sir, that Pygmalion fell in 
 love with a statue." 
 
 This apostrophe drew me from the intel- 
 lectual to the material world ; and I hastily 
 looked round at the person w^ho had addressed
 
 CONVERSATION WITH NAPOLEON. 47 
 
 me. I immediately recognized the Emperor. 
 Though I was not elated by any of the feelings 
 which such a rencontre would probably have 
 excited in the heart of an ambitious courtier ; yet, 
 I was highly pleased at finding myself thus face 
 to face with the great man, whom I had hitherto 
 admired only at a distance. Uncertain whether 
 the Emperor wished to be known or not, I con- 
 tented myself with making a respectful obeisance 
 and replied : 
 
 " The error of the artist proves the power of 
 the art." 
 
 *' Are you a sculptor ?" inquired the Em- 
 peror. 
 
 *'No....Sir." 
 
 Napoleon smiled at my marked hesitation, 
 which proved that I was aware whom I was 
 addressing, and he said : 
 " Are you a painter?" 
 "No." 
 
 " What are you, then ?" he continued with 
 some degree of impatience. 
 
 " I aspire to discharge those important func- 
 tions, which afford a young man the opportunity 
 of qualifying himself to serve his sovereign use- 
 fully." 
 
 " Perhaps you would like to be an auditor 
 in the council of state ?" 
 
 " That is the object of my ambition."
 
 48 TIFR VEIL DRAWN ASIDE. 
 
 I mentioned you, Prince, and you Count 
 Fabre de I'Aude. 
 
 " Your name ?" continued the Emperor. 
 
 I gave it. 
 
 " Where is your father ?" 
 
 " I have lost him." 
 
 " Is he an emigrant ?" 
 
 " No, he perished on the scaffold in 1794. 
 
 ' ' Ah ! . . . . and you would wish to enter my 
 service?" 
 
 " It is an honour of which I should be proud.'* 
 
 " You know me, then?" 
 
 I bowed profoundly, and crossed my arms, 
 on my bosom in token of affection and devoted- 
 ness. 
 
 " Ah ! you know me, and yet you pretended 
 you did not," said he. " Bravo ! you must be a 
 diplomatist." 
 
 " I am the subject of Your Imperial Majesty. 
 It would ill have become me to raise the veil 
 beneath which your Majesty thought fit to dis- 
 guise yourself." 
 
 ' ' Well ! very well ! Go on p.s you have 
 begun, and you will find your path smooth in 
 the career you have to pursue. Above all things, 
 be humble." 
 
 " I will exert, in the service of Your Imperial 
 Majesty, the same zeal with which my ancestors 
 served the Kings your predecessors." 
 
 Prince Cambaceres. — Did I ever tell you
 
 NOBLE BIRTH AND NOBLE SPIRIT. 49 
 
 that that same evening the Emperor asked me 
 some questions respecting you ? He repeated 
 to me literally the words you have just now 
 uttered. He was much pleased with them, and 
 he made the remark, that people of quality were 
 the best fitted for courts. 
 
 " You might have reminded him, Prince," said 
 I, " that in past revolutions, men of rank have 
 always been the last to bow their heads to the 
 conqueror. One only of all the members of the 
 council of state, withheld his adherence from 
 the act of deposition ; and that one was a noble- 
 man. This should be borne in mind." 
 
 Real. — And how did your interview with the 
 Emperor terminate ? 
 
 After I had made the remark, which Prince 
 Cambaceres has just adverted to, Napoleon smiled, 
 and, with great kindness of tone and manner, said : 
 
 ** Lose the remembrance of this meeting, 
 and I will not forget you." 
 
 He kept his word. Having saluted me, he 
 proceeded towards the Salle des gardes of Henry 
 n. I remained rivetted to the spot, as if by 
 enchantment. On the departure of the Em- 
 peror, all my self-possession seemed to have 
 forsaken me ; and, but for an effort of physical 
 strength, I should have been overcome by the 
 excess of my joy. 
 
 The present generation, who see thrones filled 
 
 vol. I. E
 
 50 THE YOUTH OF FRANCE. 
 
 merely by men of the ordinary stamp, are perhaps 
 unable to comprehend such a state of feeling. 
 Providence has not granted to them the favour 
 which must ever be our pride and glory ; namely, 
 to have been face to face with Napoleon, to 
 have heard his voice vibrated through our ears 
 and hearts, and to have gazed on his placid and 
 majestic countenance. To us, Napoleon was not 
 a mere King or Emperor ; he was a being of a 
 higher order ; one of those sublime creations, 
 that perhaps help to exalt our idea of the 
 Creator. Napoleon was our father, our master, 
 and, in some degree, our idol. We young men 
 cherished for him the affection and duty of sons. 
 There existed between him and ourselves a po- 
 sitive sympathy which made us regard as a sacred 
 and family duty, that which the present gene- 
 ration of young Frenchmen would pronounce to 
 be servility and base vassalage. It is certain 
 that we believed the Emperor's government to 
 be the best of republics ; and yet what a down- 
 right despotism it was ! 
 
 It was sometime before I could restore my 
 feelings to their ordinary level, and regulate my 
 mind so as to render myself superior to my good 
 fortune ; for to me it was a singularly good 
 fortune to have been honoured by the notice of 
 the Emperor, and to have acquired his special 
 protection. I felt that thenceforward every
 
 LOVE FOR NAPOLEON. 
 
 51 
 
 object would appear to me under a new aspect, 
 that I should no longer stand alone in the world, 
 or require those supports which, like fragile 
 reeds, snap when implicitly trusted to. I should 
 now no longer need the protection of strangers — 
 that protection which was such a burthen to me. 
 
 No one who saw me enter the Museum that 
 day, would have recognized me Avhen I came 
 out. My walk. . . .my looks. . . .all must have 
 been changed. I felt as though I had been 
 electrified by contact with the great man. I 
 looked forward to the future with a pride and 
 confidence which henceforth nothing could shake. 
 Napoleon was our religion: — our faith in him 
 was like our faith in Providence. With his aid, 
 we felt that nothing could fail us, and we set at 
 defiance all hostile influence. Our sovereign 
 was not a mere signing machine ; and who in all 
 the world could have morally countersigned Na- 
 poleon ? 
 
 In the midst of my joy, 1 did not forget the 
 injunction of profound silence which I had re- 
 ceived from the Emperor. I should have con- 
 sidered myself criminal had I revealed a syllable 
 to any person whatever, and you, Monseigneur, 
 must pardon me for the reserve I maintained 
 even to you. 
 
 Prince Cambac^res. — I commend you for it 
 ....Ah! young enthusiast! you have drawn 
 
 e2
 
 52 THE CONSCRIPTION. 
 
 an accurate picture of the French youth at that 
 time. 
 
 R6al. —And now it is affirmed that they were 
 hostile to the Emperor. 
 
 Nothing can be more false than that asser- 
 tion ! exclaimed I. The conscription, that fright- 
 ful tyranny, as it has been termed, was painfully 
 felt by parents ; but we . . . . w^e gloried in our 
 administrative embroidery, our magisterial fur, 
 and our military epaulets ! Napoleon justly un- 
 derstood and estimated the youth of France ; 
 he did not basely flatter us, but he opened to us 
 the path of glory, in which he himself trium- 
 phantly led the way.
 
 CHAPTER 11. 
 
 Cambac^res and Camot at the Palais Royal on the 1 0th of 
 August 1792 — David the Painter — His disavowal of a phrase 
 often attributed to him — Pretended list of the condemned — 
 Alarm of the Jacobins — Theroigne de Mericourt — Unpub- 
 lished details relating to the 10th of August — Count 
 Roederer's visit to the Tuileries — A mysterious message — A 
 Conversation with Marie- Antoinette — Louis XVI — Curious 
 disclosures — Roederer's account of the events of the 1 0th of 
 August — Cambacerfes relates the circumstances which pre- 
 ceded the 18th Fructidor — Consultation between Cam- 
 bacer^s, Talleyrand, Barras, Madame de Stael and Benjamin 
 Constant — Dialogue between Cambacer^s and Barras — An 
 interview with Barth^lemy — The Prince de C . . . . — Anec- 
 dotes — The Royalists' plot discovered — Carnot's account of 
 his escape — Details not published in his Memoirs — Interview 
 between Napoleon and David the Painter — The picture of 
 the coronation — Discussion between Napoleon and Count 
 Fabre de I'Aude respecting the restoration of titles and 
 armorial bearings — The cock and the eagle — Napoleon sug- 
 gests the re-establishment of monarchy — Curious details. 
 
 The first time I dined with Prince Camba- 
 cer^s, after the events of 1814, was at his
 
 ')4 CARNOT AND CAMBACiiRES. 
 
 country scat, and the party consisted of six 
 guests, myself included. There were present 
 Count Fabre de I'Aude, Carnot, Baron ])ubois- 
 Dubay, i3aron Denon, and Baron Louis David 
 (the painter.) ])uring dinner, the conversation 
 was general, but, when we retired to the drawing- 
 room, the party separated into several little 
 groups. The Prince chatted with Carnot, and 
 related to him how I had made his acquaintance. 
 Cambaceres then said to the ex-director : 
 
 " You and J did not see each other for a very 
 long interval after the day when w^e met for the 
 first time." 
 
 Carnot inquired whether they did not first 
 meet at a sitting of the Committee of public 
 safety. 
 
 " No," replied the Prince, " our acquaintance 
 is of older date. I first saw you on the 10th of 
 August, 1 792. We supped that evening at the 
 Palais-Royal." 
 
 I know not why Carnot's memory should have 
 been at fault on such a point; but he never 
 wished it to be understood that he had been 
 on terms of familiarit} with the i)uke of Orleans, 
 
 " At all events," resmned the Prince, appa- 
 rently a little piqued, " our acquaintance was 
 formed in very stormy times." 
 
 "Yes, it certainly was. First, during the 
 trial of Capet, (here I looked at the ex-arch-
 
 DAVID, THE PAINTER. 55 
 
 chancellor, who made a sort of grimace, which 
 Carnot did not perceive, or did not choose to 
 notice,) then, on the 10th May, or the 1st Prai- 
 rial, on the 9th Thermidor, and on the 18th 
 Fructidor. After the latter period, I lost sight 
 of you." 
 
 " It was lucky for you that you got out of 
 the way." 
 
 " Did you find yourself lucky in staying 
 behind ?" 
 
 " I proved my innocence. Those were sad 
 times." 
 
 Count Roederer was announced, and his en- 
 trance interrupted the colloquy. The salutations 
 and introductions being ended, the Prince said, 
 addressing himself to Count Roederer : — 
 
 *' I was just now relating to M. Carnot some 
 circumstances connected with the 18 th Fruc- 
 tidor, with which he is unacquainted ; but 
 perhaps. Count, it would be more interesting 
 if you would relate what took place on the 10th 
 of August, which possibly we may all have 
 forgotten." 
 
 Roederer, at first, did not seem much inclined 
 to accede to this suggestion ; but, being ac- 
 quainted with us all, he at length consented, 
 and, pointing to David, he said : " There is one 
 who can set me right, if my memory should 
 fail me."
 
 56 THE HEMLOCK JUICE, 
 
 " I assure you, replied the painter, that my 
 memory is none of the best : besides, the fine 
 arts are now the only subject to which I direct 
 my attention." 
 
 We all smiled at his scrupulous prudence, 
 and Carnot, seating himself, turned towards 
 David, and said : 
 
 "Robespierre, I irill drink the hemlock juice 
 with you.'' 
 
 " Carnot," said David, wath some warmth, 
 "you are repeating a calumny. My enemies 
 thought proper to attribute that phrase to me, 
 but I never uttered it. It is vexatious to 
 think of the folly and wickedness that have 
 been attributed to me. Ah ! gentlemen, we were 
 all more or less mad in 1798, and 1799." 
 
 Every one seemed to acknowledge the truth 
 of this remark. David again positively denied 
 the apostrophe to Robespierre. I may likewise 
 observe that, on several other occasions, in my 
 presence, he has made the same disavowal. 
 When the warmth of feeling, occasioned by this 
 little incident, had somewdiat subsided, Roederer 
 thus continued : 
 
 " For the space of a year, it had been a settled 
 point that Royalty would henceforth be op- 
 posed to our interests. One of two things was 
 inevitable ; either Royalty must be overthrown, 
 or, we must take to flight ; for a re- action was
 
 PROSCRIPTION LIST. 57 
 
 near at hand. There were a great number of us 
 who had reason to fear the vengeance of the 
 Court. I recollect that, sometime between the 
 15th and the 20th of July 1792, I was spending 
 an evening at Mousseaux, when a list was pro- 
 duced, written, it was alleged, by the ex-minister 
 of marine, Bertrand-Molleville, with notes in 
 the hand of the Queen. This list contained 
 three hundred names, classed in five divisions. 
 To these divisions the following punishments, 
 were allotted: 1st execution, 2nd the gallejs, 
 3rd imprisonment for life, 4th exile for life, 
 5th banishment, or imprisonment, for a certain 
 period ; and to all was affixed the additional 
 punishment of total confiscation of property. 
 The Dukes of Orleans, de Biron and d'Aiguillon, 
 and sixty members of the Constituent Assembly, 
 were in the first class, together with Robespierre, 
 Petion, Lameth, and Marat. In the second 
 division, which was equally well filled, I had the 
 honour to be set down, with a long list of good 
 company. The Duke de Liancourt was at the 
 head of the third division, and Monsieur, the 
 King's brother, at the head of the fourth. This 
 horrible document bore every appearance of 
 being genuine. Potion declared he had received 
 it from Madame Campan, which statement was 
 false ; but, at that time, any story obtained credit, 
 especially any one which excited alarm. The
 
 58 A PARTY AT MOUSSEAUX. 
 
 Duke of Orleans was dismayed — Sillery and 
 Voidel were in utter ciespair. Barbaroux, who 
 already fancied Himself slaving at the galleys for 
 life, in company with Vergniaud, asked us what 
 we proposed to do. ' For my part,' he added, 
 ' my resolution is taken. The IMarseillais are 
 advancing. Whenever they appear, I shall put 
 mysel) at their head, I shall repair to the Tui- 
 leries, make an. end of the King and Queen, or 
 perish in the attempt.' 
 
 " At these energetic words, terror seized even 
 the boldest of the company. Petion was as 
 white as his own shirt, and Robespierre a little 
 whiter. The Duke of Orleans signified his wish 
 to return to England, and Robespierre and Marat 
 aspired to accompany him. Danton, then raising 
 his voice, exclaimed : 
 
 " ] wil) murder the first coward who shall 
 take to flight. The wine is drawn, and we have 
 nothing to do but to drink it. There must be 
 no demur. Let us follow Barbaroux, and turn 
 the Tuileries inside out. This vigorous stroke 
 will disarm the royalists. They will tremble 
 and fly, and our triumph will be complete !' 
 
 " Laclos spoke in the same tone, but in better 
 terms. All agreed as to the danger of hesi- 
 tation. Petion, on being questioned, declared his 
 belief that the National Guard were partly royal- 
 ists ; — that two or three battalions would doubt-
 
 THE FORGERY DETECTED. 59 
 
 less declare themselves hostile to the King, if 
 Mandat, their commander, could be sent out of 
 the way. 
 
 " ■ Sent out of the way,' exclaimed Danton ; 
 ' kill him, — the dead do not come back.' 
 
 '' Several individuals present expressed their 
 horror at the proposed mode of getting rid of 
 poor Mandat • upon which Danton observed : 
 ' It is better to devour the beast than to be 
 devoured by him,' No one made any reply to 
 this remark. It was resolved that an attack 
 should be made on the Tuileries, as soon as the 
 Marseillais arrived in sufficient numbers to en- 
 courage the Parisians. It was nevei imagined 
 that the King would surrendej without an 
 attempt at resistance ; the possibilii v of such 
 a want of spirit was not for v moment con- 
 templated. A certain individual, to whom the 
 crown was promised, gave up al) the money 
 he possessed to pay the men of the 10th of 
 August. He was fairly duped ; but he well 
 deserved it. Our part} at Mousseaux broke up, 
 and we all went to apprise our friends of the 
 proscription list which we had just seen." 
 
 Prince Cambaceres. — And by whom was 
 that pretended list really drawn up ? 
 
 Rcederer. — I afterwards learned that it was 
 the work of a man named Duport, a notary, who 
 lived near the church of Saint-Eustache. Thi&
 
 GO TH^ROIGNE. 
 
 man, by using his left hand, could counterfeit 
 any person's writing. He was much employed 
 at the Palais-Royal in drawing up accounts. 
 The list which 1 have just mentioned was perhaps 
 his master-piece. Theroigne paid him, but of 
 course not from her own purse. 
 
 I here interrupted Count Roederer, to inquire 
 ■what had become of the w^oman Theroigne. 
 
 RcEDERER. — She is dead. 
 
 Denon. — That is a mistake. Sh©^ is now a 
 lunatic and an inmate of the Salpetriere. 
 
 Prince Cambaceres. — I recollect a strange 
 present which I received from M. Pinel. It 
 was the original copy of some correspondence of 
 that creature Theroigne with a female of her 
 own stamp. It presents a curious picture of 
 the profligac)^ of the time. Would you like 
 to see it ? added the Prince, addressing himself to 
 me. Well, I will make you a present of it. . . . 
 But let Count Roederer proceed. 
 
 *' This interruption," observed I, " has afforded 
 the Count an opportunity of adding a note to 
 his narrative." 
 
 Prince Cambaceres. — Let the notes be given 
 at the end of the story, and not at the foot of 
 every page. 
 
 Rcederer. — Theroigne, who was an absolute 
 demon, was employed to assassinate Suleau, a 
 worthy citizen, a man of talent and respecta-
 
 MILITARY PREPARATIONS. 6l 
 
 bility, and a hearty royalist. Theroigne formed 
 acquaintance with Danton, with the base Saint- 
 Hurugues, with Maillard, Mehee, Sergent, 
 Hebert, Roussin, Merhn de Thionville, Chabot, 
 Manuel, Bourdon de I'Oise, Santerre, Bazire, 
 Fabre d'Eglantine, Panis, and Chaumette. As 
 to Robespierre, his alarm had induced him to 
 quit the capital ; and, in spite of all that may 
 have been said about Marat's movements, he 
 was no where to be seen. Henriot had a heavy 
 duty to perform on that occasion : he took 
 charge of the Faubourg Saint- Victor ; Panis took 
 Saint-Marceau ; and Santerre, Saint- Antoine. 
 
 Barbaroux headed his Marseillais : all their 
 orders and pass words were issued by him. The 
 police, without any regular authorization, dis- 
 tributed five thousand cartridges among the 
 federates, who had been joined by about a thou- 
 sand thieves and vagabonds ; for all were deemed 
 good enough to fight in the holy cause. The 
 end was supposed to justify the means. We 
 could not pick and choose. August w^as to 
 restore the old regime, or banish it for ever. 
 
 As to me, 1 knew not half the measures 
 that were adopted, though I very well under- 
 stood the danger, and 1 also knew the fate that 
 awaited me, should the court party prove victori- 
 ous. I was not very much at my ease. On the 
 evening of the 8th, I went to the Tuileries. Every
 
 G2 VISIT TO THE ROYAL FAMILY. 
 
 one there was agitated by gloomy presentiments. 
 The King seemed to have lost his senses ; for he 
 was laughing immoderately. IMadarae Elizabeth 
 was silent and dejected. The Queen was calm, 
 proud and indignant ; she was the soul of the 
 Royalist party. I know not what prompted me 
 to mention the arrival of the Duke of Orleans^ 
 whose carriage I understood had been seen in 
 the court-yard. The mere mention of his name 
 called forth a general burst of hatred and in- 
 dignation ; so violent, that I feared a terrible 
 scene would ensue, and, to avoid it, I took my 
 departure. The information, however, proved 
 untrue — the Prince did not appear. 
 
 I was descending the grand stair-case when 
 an ex-body-guard, (M. de Gaston if I recollect 
 rightly) who was behind me, said in a low tone 
 of voice : " Sir, the King requests that you will 
 follow me. He wishes to speak to you." Taken 
 by surprise by this mysterious message, I hesi- 
 tated whether or not I should accept the royal 
 invitation. A moment's reflection made me 
 ashamed of my apprehensions. M. Gaston 
 looked at me, and I bowed in token of acquies- 
 cence. We crossed the vestibule, and entered 
 the gallery on the left of the court-yard, which 
 opens, in arcades, to the gardens. My guide 
 went forward to speak to a sentinel, and then to 
 a valet de pied, after which we ascended another
 
 CONVERSATION WITH MARIE-ANTOINBTTE. 63 
 
 staircase, which brought us to an entresol. Here 
 I was left alone for about ten minutes, which 
 I should possibly have imagined to be the dura- 
 tion of an hour, had not the course of time 
 been marked by a splendid clock which stood in 
 the apartment. 
 
 I heard the rustling of a silk dress, and 
 I rose from the arm chair in which 1 had seated 
 myself. A lady entered : it was the Queen. I 
 expected the King, and my surprise must have 
 been marked in my countenance. The eagle 
 eye of Marie-Antoinette perceived it, and she 
 said : 
 
 " You are surprised to see me, Monsieur 
 de Roederer ; you expected the King. He is 
 engaged in an audijence with M. Mandat, and 
 cannot come to you just this moment. I feared 
 you would be tired of waiting . . . . " 
 
 I stammered out some formula about duty, 
 the desire to prove my affection, etc. Another 
 inquisitorial glance from Marie- Antoinette ac- 
 companied by a sigh, and she said : 
 
 " Duty, affection, respect, even love, are 
 words unsparingly addressed to us ; and yet we 
 can put no faith in them. Who is there now 
 can say he loves the King ?" 
 
 " All France, Madam, I assure you. 
 
 " All France, say you? Then, why is he left 
 here desolate, without respect, without power ;
 
 64 SNARE LAID BY THE QUEEN. 
 
 compelled to contest with the vile canaille, and 
 exposed to every outrage ?.... Ah ! Monsieur 
 Roederer ... I ask again, who loves the King ? 
 Would not they who love him give proof of 
 their affection ? Would they not defend him, 
 remove his enemies, and afford him the means 
 of doing good? The King is grateful. He 
 would reward munificently and promptly any 
 one who might render him an important service." 
 
 The Queen paused. She awaited my an- 
 swer with visible anxiety. I saw the snare ; 
 and I observed that if any coldness were mani- 
 fested towards the King, it must be because 
 he was supposed not to be sincerely attached 
 to the constitution. Upon this, the Queen 
 exclaimed in a tone of impatience : 
 
 "Mon Dieu, Monsieur! With the exception 
 of the King, who must regard it as his only 
 safeguard, tell me who is attached to this fine 
 constitution ? Certainly not the traitors who 
 are plotting a republic. You are a man of 
 sense. Monsieur Roederer, and you cannot fail 
 to perceive what they are aiming at. Why is 
 this forging of pikes continued ? Why are a 
 thousand banditti in reserve at the barriere ? 
 And the Marseillais, who is leading them on ? 
 Is it with the view of cementing the constitution 
 that the national guards are excited against us, 
 and our defenders disorganized ? What is meant,
 
 SHARP INTERROGATORIES. G5 
 
 I ask you, by these acts of hostility ? Against 
 whom are they directed ? What would the 
 people have ? and you Sir, what would you 
 have ?" 
 
 These animated and pointed interrogatories, 
 accompanied as they were by the Queen's keen 
 and searching looks, not a little embarrassed me. 
 However, I felt the necessity of summoning all 
 my presence of mind, and I replied : 
 
 "I do assure you, Madam, that you are 
 misled by exaggerated statements. I am aware 
 that the police yesterday distributed ammu- 
 nition ; but only to the national guards. As to 
 the unrecognized parties to whom your Majesty 
 alludes, I know not who or where they are. 
 Perhaps they are confounded with the neigh- 
 bouring federists, who have zealously offered 
 themselves for the defence of Paris. The Mar- 
 seillais will do the same . . . . " 
 
 Here I was interrupted by a gesture of con- 
 tempt. The Queen's eyes flashed anger, as she 
 said : 
 
 " Ah Sir ! I would rather think you blind 
 than treacherous. You are either tlie one or 
 the other— that is certain." 
 
 " Madam !" 
 
 " Do you imagine you can gain any advan- 
 tage by setting yourselves in hostility to us? 
 The situation of the Kine: is not so desperate, 
 
 VOL. I. F
 
 6G INTERVIEW WITH THE KING. 
 
 but that he can help himself. His adherents 
 and his resources are immense. The feeling in 
 the departments is favourable ; it will be wise in 
 you to concur with it. We are all anxious for 
 the happiness of the country." 
 
 " Why not say the happiness of the king- 
 dom? Is the republic proclaimed?" 
 
 " Who has any thought of such a thing, 
 Madam ?" 
 
 " The leaders of the pretended federists. Do 
 they imagine Europe will endure such a volcano 
 of agitation ?" 
 
 She stopped short, on hearing a heavy foot- 
 step advancing towards the apartment. 
 
 " Here is the King, Sir ; I hope he may be 
 more successful with you than I have been." 
 
 Without waiting for my reply, she rose and 
 opened a door leading to another room. She 
 then curtsied and closed the door after her, 
 but not before I had caught a glance of Madame 
 Elizabeth, who was in the adjoining apartment, 
 and who had doubtless overheard every word that 
 had passed between us. In a court, one must 
 never count on absolute privacy. 
 
 The King appeared, and in the must cour- 
 teous manner, apologized for having kept me 
 waiting. In the course of my interview with 
 him, he let fall some remarks which made but 
 little impression on me at the moment, but 
 which created in me a feeling of no little un-
 
 INTERVIEW WITH THE KING. 67 
 
 easiness when I reflected upon them the 
 following day. You must bear in mind, gen- 
 tlemen, that the interview I am about to describe 
 took place on the evening of the 8th of August. 
 The King observed that M. Mandat hacj unex- 
 pectedly detained him and added : 
 
 " The poor Commandant is very melancholy. 
 He is assailed by gloomy forebodings. He as- 
 sures me that they seek his life.'' 
 
 I protested that such a thing could not 
 possibly be thought of. 
 
 " So I have assured him," replied the King. 
 " But reasoning will not overcome fear. For my 
 own part, I have more confidence in the people. 
 They will not renew the horrors of 1789." 
 
 " I am convinced they will not, Sire." 
 
 The King then questioned me about the 
 departments, and the members of the com- 
 mune. He asked me whether Bailly might not 
 hope for a re-action of public opinion in his 
 favour : and whether the national guards would 
 do their duty in the event of an attack on the 
 Tuileries. He urged me to give him my sincere 
 opinion on this point. " Certainly," added he, 
 ** I will never commence a civil war ; but, if they 
 fire into my windows, there is a lawful defence 
 which I may be permitted to maintain." 
 
 " But which would be very painful to a heart 
 like yours," said I. 
 
 F 2
 
 68 INTERVIEW WITH THE KING. 
 
 Here Louis XVI took my hand, pressed 
 it cordially in his, and said in a tone of deep 
 emotion : 
 
 ** Ah, Monsieur! I cannot sleep, so much 
 am I tormented by the idea of being compelled 
 to shed the blood of my people, who are my 
 children. I would rather a thousand times, 
 (should I be pushed to the extremity) shed my 
 own blood, even to the last drop." 
 
 When Roederer repeated these words, all 
 present gave utterance to a simultaneous ex- 
 pression of admiration ; and yet there were se- 
 veral regicides in the party. Roederer was 
 delighted at the impression he had produced, 
 and, recollecting the remark made by the orator 
 CEschines to his pupils, when he was reading to 
 them an oration of his antagonist Demosthenes, 
 he very appropriately quoted it and said : Ah ! if 
 you had heard this uttered by his own lips ! 
 
 " For m}^ own part," resumed Rcederer, " the 
 King's words made so powerful an impression on 
 me, that, in the impulse of the moment, I was 
 about to throw myself at his feet and to reveal the 
 plot that was hatching. But prudence inter- 
 posed, and I reflected that as matters then stood 
 1 should only hurl myself to destruction without 
 saving him. I confined myself to general re- 
 marks. The King, without much disguise, pro- 
 posed that I should devote myself to his in-
 
 LOUIS XVI AND MANDAT. 69 
 
 terests ; and hinted that he had in his pay 
 several members of the left side. I feigned not 
 to understand him, and he, becoming weary of 
 the interview, dismissed me." 
 
 Here Count Rcederer paused. Several of the 
 party expressed themselves gratified by his in- 
 teresting story. Even Cambaceres had not before 
 heard it fully. Carnot and David said nothing : 
 the former looked dissatisfied, and the latter was 
 evidently ill at ease. All the rest of us were 
 delighted, and we expressed so much gratifi- 
 cation at what we had heard, that Rcederer was 
 induced to proceed as follows : 
 
 " Mandat was, at heart, a royalist ; and yet, by 
 some strange fatality, the King at first classed 
 him among his enemies. In the presence of 
 Count de Rochefort, M. de Guyon, the Duke de 
 Brissac, and some other faithful friends of the 
 royal family, the King remarked : ' In case of 
 danger, Mandat will take part with me, because 
 he will execute the law ; but he is in principle a 
 republican.' Mandat, to whom some one repeated 
 this observation, replied: "I see that I must 
 sacrifice my life to convince the King of my real 
 sentiments." He proceeded to Petion, and in- 
 formed him that an attack was meditated on the 
 executive power. He spoke with so much 
 energy, that the Mayor of Paris, after a long 
 discussion, and being pressed to the utmost ex-
 
 70 THE MAYOR OF PARIS. 
 
 tremity, gave him a note couched in the follow- 
 ing terms : 
 
 " Sir, 
 
 " The terms of the constitution are precise. 
 If traitors should attack any constituted au- 
 thority in the exercise of its functions, you must, 
 under pain of forfeiture to the nation, defend 
 that authority, in concurrence with the national 
 guard. The King, as you may suppose, is not 
 excepted from the duty which the law of the 
 country imposes on you. 
 
 (Signed) " Potion." 
 
 " I saw this note in Mandat's hands. He 
 shewed it me on the 9th of August. I read it 
 over three times, and since then it has remained 
 engraven in my memory. I may add, and it is 
 a subject of deep remorse to me, that I was the 
 indirect cause of the death of that unfortunate 
 citizen. He had just parted from me, when 
 Petion came to me. My thoughts where wholly 
 engrossed by the communication I had just 
 perused ; and I congratulated the Mayor of Paris 
 on the honourable letter he had addressed to 
 Mandat. Petion turned pale, bit his lips, and 
 said : ' I have committed a fault.' He said no 
 more, but this was quite enough. On the
 
 mandat's death. 71 
 
 morning of the 10th, an imperative order of the 
 commune summoned Mandat to the Hotel de 
 Ville. Here he was censured for the measures 
 he had adopted against the people. He was 
 broken, and sent to prison, under the guard of 
 Rossignol. The latter caused him to be imme- 
 diately assassinated, and, after his death, Petion's 
 letter was found upon him. 
 
 " The whole of the 9th of August was ac- 
 tively employed by our friends. They stirred 
 up insurrection in the faubourgs, and held 
 themselves in readiness to march. The night 
 of the 9th was terrific. Terror was universal. 
 Many persons, finding it unsafe to sleep in their 
 own houses, procured beds elsewhere. I was 
 one of them. It is impossible to form any 
 conception of the absolute listlessness of Louis 
 XVI. Paris was illuminated almost in every 
 part. The tocsin had ceased to sound. The 
 streets were crowded by furious mobs, and few 
 could pass through them with safety. Any one 
 wearing a green coat was sure to be attacked : 
 that was the signal of proscription. Cannon 
 was drawn through the streets, and the multitude 
 provided themselves with arms. At length, the 
 word was given for the attack on the Tuilerics — 
 thither the assailants marched 
 
 " On the morning of tlic lOtli, Potion's pru- 
 dence forsook him. Ik'in;:; summoned to tlic
 
 tl DETENTION OF PETION. 
 
 Tuileries, he repaired thither, and, under some 
 pretext or other, was detained as a hostage. He 
 soon perceived his error and wrote a note to 
 Vergniaiid, acquainting him with his situation, 
 and begging to be released wuth all possible 
 speed. Vergniaud thought the best thing he 
 could do was to cause the Legislative Assembly 
 to issue a decree, summoning Petion to the bar, 
 where he would have to render an account of 
 his conduct on the preceding evening. The 
 messenger who was ordered to convey this sum- 
 mons, met him in the gardens of the Tuileries. 
 Petion welcomed him as his deliverer ; there 
 was no contending against the will of the legisla- 
 ture, and the mayor of Paris, being released from 
 captivity, fled to his own house, in which the 
 conspirators shut him up in order to save him 
 from all responsibility in case of accident. 
 This was a favour which he exacted from 
 them. 
 
 " Danton came to me early in the morning. 
 He was half intoxicated and he said : — 
 
 " * We are going to have an explosion.' 
 
 " Then take care you don't get blown up in 
 it," observed I. 
 
 " ' There is no danger of that. Everything 
 is arranged, and we are sure of success. There 
 are some who insist on the death of the King 
 this day ; but I do not think that necessary. .
 
 w 
 
 THREATS OF DANTON. 73 
 
 Indeed, it would perhaps be prejudicial to us. 
 Those who sincerely want the Duke of Orleans, 
 would of course be delighted to get Louis out of 
 the way ; but I think that would only serve 
 to retard matters, and I am not for striking at the 
 life of the King. AVill you take upon yourself, 
 continued he, the task of intimidating him ? 
 Prevail on him to quit the Tuileries, and to 
 come and seek refuge in the National Assembly. 
 There we can surround him, and get rid of him 
 quietly.' 
 
 " I must confess that I was not over eager 
 to undertake this dangerous task ; but Danton 
 fixed his fierce eyes on me ; and the colossus, 
 seizing me by the throat, which he grasped 
 almost to suffocation, said : — 
 
 " ' Mark, that in this tragedy each one has 
 his part to play. Should any one, who is re- 
 quired to be an actor, shew himself disposed to 
 remain a mere spectator, it will cost him his 
 head. Do not hesitate, then, or you will have 
 reason to repent it. I shall keep my eye upon 
 you ; and you will be treated according to your 
 deserts.' 
 
 " I cast down my eyes, and promised all he 
 required. It was arranged that, as president of 
 the department, I should proceed to the Tuileries, 
 and do all I could to prevail on the King to 
 leave the castle
 
 74 THE IOtii of august. 
 
 " The report of artillery was heard. 
 
 " ' Hark !' said Danton, ' the work has 
 commenced. Morbleu ! we will make them 
 dance to a fine tune.' 
 
 " He departed almost in a state of frenzy. I 
 dressed myself, and proceeded to the office of 
 the department. I was pensive and melan- 
 choly, and yet I could not help smiling at the 
 groups of maniacs who every moment stopped 
 me on my way through the streets. I had the 
 pass-word, the card of recognition ; and those 
 who happened not to know me personally 
 suffered me to pass on when my interrogatory 
 was ended. 
 
 " I need not relate to you, gentlemen," 
 pursued Count Roederer, " the events of the 1 0th 
 of August. I have pubhshed my justification ; I 
 will, therefore, confine myself to some facts which 
 1 had exclusively the means of knowing. The 
 King, in spite of all the Queen's entreaties, could 
 not be prevailed on to defend himself. He 
 ought to have appeared in military uniform, 
 with the white plume of Henry IV, booted, 
 spurred and on horseback. But, instead of this, 
 he made his appearance dressed in a violet coat, 
 (the colour of mourning and of ill omen,) small- 
 clothes, silk stockings, shoes with diamond 
 buckles and a rapier by his side. His pale and 
 haggard countenance was expressive only of
 
 THE KINGS IRRESOLUTION. /D 
 
 terror and irresolution. He inspected, with an 
 air of indifference, the ranks of the national 
 guard. Some ventured to address to him in- 
 sulting remarks ; but all would blindly have 
 obeyed his word of command, if he had had 
 courage to give it. Barbaroux assured me, that 
 if the King had only shewn himself, the citizens 
 would have rallied round him, and the counter- 
 revolution would have been accomplished. 
 
 " Meanwhile, the decisive moment approached. 
 Fouquier-Tinville, who was that day aid-de-camp 
 to Danton, came, on the part of the latter, to desire 
 me to repair to the Tuileries with my colleagues. 
 We proceeded thither at half past eight o'clock. 
 I was the first who entered the court-yard, 
 where I successively addressed several batta- 
 lions. Those of the Filles-Saint-Thomas, and 
 the Petits-Peres, were for the King. I recom- 
 mended them to act with caution. Do not be 
 assailants, said I ; stand on the defensive. One 
 of them replied : 
 
 " ' We will do our duty • death to traitors !' 
 " This language alarmed me. Accompanied 
 by my colleagues, we waited on the King, who 
 was surrounded by his family. He asked my 
 advice. I observed that to maintain the conflict 
 would be a fearful extremity ; and that it would 
 Ije better for him to seek the protection of the 
 National Assembly, who would quGllthc tumult.
 
 76 COURAGE OF THE QUEEN. 
 
 " 'The King will do better,' said Marie- An- 
 toinette. * He will punish the factious; his lenity 
 encourages them to outrage. Here, Monsieur, 
 she added, presenting to him a pistol, take this, 
 and God will aid you.' 
 
 " The King looked at her with a piteous 
 air. 
 
 " A member of the department addressed 
 some words to the Queen which I did not 
 hear. 
 
 " 'Silence, Sir!' she exclaimed, 'you have 
 no right to speak here. These disturbances 
 would not have taken place, if you had done 
 your duty. We do not want talkers : at this 
 time, we want men who can act !' 
 
 " I cannot attempt to describe, gentlemen, 
 the effect which these words produced : all who 
 heard them were electrified. Mon Dieu ! how 
 easily sovereigns may preserve their crowns ! 
 If they lose them, it must be by their own weak- 
 ness. I then addressed myself to Marie-An- 
 toinette, and asked her whether she would take 
 upon herself the responsibility of what was 
 about to ensue : the destruction of so many 
 faithful servants of the King, and possibly even 
 of the royal family. The Queen turned pale. 
 The ministers consulted together, and it was 
 determined that the King should go to the As- 
 sembly. Marie-Antoinette then said to me : —
 
 LOUIS AT THE NATIONAL ASSEMBLY. 77 
 
 " ' You have prevailed, Monsieur Roederer, 
 and the King is lost.' 
 
 " I have saved him, Madam." 
 
 " ' You have sacrificed him. Ah Sire !' she 
 added turning to the King, ' you promised me 
 better than this.' 
 
 " Tears and sobs prevented her from con- 
 tinuing. She asked for a glass of water, but 
 she shook so violently that I thought the goblet 
 would break between her teeth. We left the 
 Tuileries, and proceeded to the place of our des- 
 tination. The rest is known. I need not 
 repeat it. But I may mention that, as we 
 passed through the streets, I twice saved the life 
 of Louis XVI. One of the assassins, from 
 whose hands I forced a musket which he had pre- 
 sented at the King, said to me in a tone similar 
 to that in which he would have addressed an 
 accomplice — 
 
 " * But you know it has been agreed on !' 
 
 " No; no!" replied I, assuming an air of 
 mystery ; not to-day. " The plan is changed." 
 
 Here Count Rcederer ended his recital. He 
 had interspersed it with some very curious 
 particulars, which, as they had not been pub- 
 lished, I determined to note down among my 
 memoranda. Carnot, turning to Prince Cam- 
 bac^r^s, said : — 
 
 " Now, Monsieur, the 18th Fructidor, if you 
 please."
 
 78 Tllf: 1ST II FllUCTIDOR. 
 
 Cambac^res. — All was going on badly. I 
 was distressed at the melancholy aspect of 
 aft'airs. My correspondence with Bonaparte was 
 actively kept up. I painted to him the dis- 
 tracted state of France, and he replied to me by 
 these few words : — It is not yet time. On the one 
 hand, there was the royalist conspiracy carried on 
 unreservedly, headed by Pichegru and Villot, 
 and boldly threatening to restore the old regime ; 
 whilst, on the other hand, the Old Mountain was 
 in motion. Barras w^as in the middle, striving 
 to maintain himself in his eminent position. 
 He was negociating with the Count de Lille 
 (Louis XVIII) with General Hoche, wdth 
 Bonaparte, and with the tail of Robespierre. 
 You know that, at the time I allude to, the five 
 Directors were Barras, Rewbell, La Reveillere- 
 Lepeaux, you Monsieur Carnot, and Barthelemy. 
 The three first were anxious, above all things, to 
 keep their places. The Marquis de Barthelemy 
 had a leaning to the King, and you, Monsieur 
 Carnot, wanted the Repubhc. But the three 
 whose schemes you thwarted were more anxious 
 to get rid of a troublesome w^atcher than to 
 humble themselves to a good citizen. Do you 
 recollect your conversation with M. de la Rue ? 
 
 " Yes," replied Carnot, and I have related it 
 in my Memoirs." 
 
 Cambac:^res. — But I can inform you that 
 your interlocutor relates it in other terms, and
 
 carnot's memoirs. 79 
 
 that your respective accounts do not agree.* 
 Be that as it may, it is certain that the Di- 
 
 * Tiie following is the account given of the conversation 
 here alluded to, by the Chevalier de la Rue, in his publication 
 entitled " The History of the 18th Fructidor." 
 
 " The danger was daily becoming more urgent and more ap- 
 parent, and we thought that Carnot would at length perceive 
 the advantages of his position and tuin them to the advance- 
 ment of his own glory and the salvation of France, One of 
 our partv, who liad been engaged in private and confidential 
 relations with Carnot, resolved to make one more effort. 
 After proving to him that all the circumstances of the conspi- 
 racy were known to us, he endeavoured to convince him that 
 tiie fate of the country was in his hands, and that no man 
 ever had allotted to him a more important political part. He 
 warmly urged him to seize the favourable opportunity of 
 rendering to his country the greatest service that could be con- 
 ferred on her." 
 
 " The picture you have drawn," replied Carnot, " is very 
 seducing : but I can see royalists behind the curtain ; and I will 
 never consent to rally round their banner.*' 
 
 " What an opinion you entertain of us !" observed the De- 
 puty. " Woe to those who should meditate, at this moment, 
 the restoration of royalty ! Our sole object is to give you 
 colleagues as capable of governing France, as they are 
 anxious to ens^ure her happiness. Doubtless, there are de- 
 puties who think tliat the executive authority would be l)ctter 
 jdaced in the hands of a single ruler, thnn divided among five 
 who are incessantly at variance. You yourselves afford a proof 
 of this truth, since you arc animated by hatred and jealousy of 
 each other. You, Citizen, who arc an able politician, and who 
 have meditated profoundly on all the various forms of govern- 
 ment, must of necessity share this oi)iriioti- But such a change
 
 80 THE CIIF.VALIER DR 1,A RUK. 
 
 rectory was split into two opposing parties, and 
 that three of its members were endeavouring 
 
 can onlv be the fruit of experience ,• it must be effected 
 without violence, without commotion, and it must be the 
 result of experience and of the national will." 
 
 " Now, we have come to the point," said Carnot. " You 
 would have the Republic resolve itself into a monarchy, and 
 the monarchy to restore the Bourbons. Now, these changes I 
 will exert all my efforts to prevent." 
 
 " Your imagination, Citizen Director, hurries forward 
 events with vast rapidity. It appears to me that we are very 
 far from a monarchy, and still farther from a recall of the Bour- 
 bons, But, supposing both these changes should ensue, and 
 that our political vicissitudes should terminate like those of 
 England, what conclusion is to be drawn ? surely this .... 
 that your most powerful interest counsels that course which 
 glory and the love of your country imperatively command. I 
 know the cause of your dislike of the Bourbons .. but is there 
 any more certain means of effacing your political errors — any 
 more noble justification } Who will doubt that your errors 
 are attributable to circumstances, and not to your own heart ? 
 What prince would bear in mind the mistakes of the man who 
 should open to him the way to his throne ? And, finally, sup- 
 posing we should one day or other return to the monarchy, 
 would it not be desirable for the happiness and tranquillity 
 of France, to restore princes before whom ambition and pre- 
 tension dare not raise their heads } If, on the contrary, the 
 army were to dispose of the crown, as it threatens to do, might 
 we not justly fear the fate of Macedonia, which the Gene- 
 rals of Alexander, after his death, parcelled out among them- 
 selves ? Or, might we not share the fate of the Romans, when 
 the empire was to be won by the intrigues of commanders of 
 legions, most of whom ascended the throne by the aid of revo - 
 lution and crime ? Do you imagine that an usurper would shew
 
 CARNOT AND M. DE LA RUE. 81 
 
 to expel the other two. Amidst this conflict, 
 it was not a little dangerous to maintain a 
 
 more tenderness than a legitimate sovereign to the destroyers 
 of kings ? Being necessarily more suspicious, he would pro- 
 bahly be far less indulgent than a Bourbon, whose position, as 
 well as the characteristic goodness of the family, would urge 
 to pardon the past." 
 
 " Your argument," replied Carnot, " however specious, will 
 never convince me of that indulgence. Even if I carried in 
 my pocket a pardon, cemented by the royal promise, I should 
 place no faith in it. . On the day after his elevation to the throne, 
 the King would perhaps be obliged to revoke it." 
 
 " I should sincerely pity you, citizen, for being a prey to 
 such alarms, but that we are merely arguing on a chimera ! 
 However, to return to the object of my mission to you. You must 
 perceive that we are hurrying towards anarchy or to military 
 despotism, which is the most cruel of all tyrannies. This is 
 the danger from which we must endeavour to escape, and to 
 you, citizen, fate has reserved the honorable task of preserv- 
 ing France from these new scourges. Let me recommend you, 
 then, cordially to unite with your colleague Barthelemy. Em- 
 ploy against the conspirators the arms with which the consti- 
 tution provides you. Pursue earnestly with us, the course 
 marked out for you, and the country, which you say you love, 
 will be indebted to you for her salvation " 
 
 " I have already explained my sentiments on this point," 
 said the inexorable Carnot ; " 1 will never become the accuser 
 of my colleagues. Besides, I do not perceive any of the dangers 
 at which you are so much alarmed ; though if they existed, J 
 should from my position have the best opportunity of seeing 
 them. I think, on the contrary, that there are among you im- 
 prudent or designing men who conjure up these phantoms of 
 conspiracy, with the view of casting odium on the patriots, and 
 VOL. I. G
 
 82 MADAME DE STAEL. 
 
 neutral position. I was not without inquietude. 
 One evening, my humble abode was honoured by 
 four visitors . . .Parbleu ! gentlemen, who do 
 you think they were? But, you would name 
 a thousand persons, before you guessed right. 
 On the door being opened, I beheld, to my utter 
 surprise, the Director Barras in person, M. de 
 Talleyrand P^rigord, the Baroness de Stael, and 
 the Baron Constant de Rebecque ! 
 
 I fancied I was labouring under some de- 
 lusion of vision, and I began to rub my eyes. 
 Barras, observing my surprise, said : — 
 
 " You did not expect us ?" 
 
 " M. Cambacer^s," said Madame de Stael, 
 " I know you are a prudent counsellor ; there- 
 fore, I have advised these gentlemen to come 
 and hold a little conversation with you." 
 
 I requested my visitors to be seated. I 
 fastened the door, and drew the curtains, and, 
 being installed in perfect privacy, I inquired to 
 what subject the proposed consultation was to 
 refer. At that time, M. Constant was a Swiss, 
 very anxious to become a Frenchman. He was 
 dying of the mania of being thought somebody ; 
 not having sufficient good sense to be satisfied 
 with being a man of the world and a man of 
 
 driving you into some error, of which the royalists will not 
 fail to take advantage. Subdue your alarms, be more confi- 
 dent, and all will be well."
 
 TALLEYRAND AND M. CONSTANT. 83 
 
 talent. He lent his pen to any one who pro- 
 mised him the reward of a place ; and he 
 who now leans to liberal monarchical ideas, 
 was at that time singularly infected with re- 
 publican despotism. He undertook to explain 
 the object of our interview, and made a long 
 speech composed of obscure, long-winded sen- 
 tences, which no doubt he thought very elo- 
 quent. Madame de Stael every now and 
 then prompted him both in words and ideas ; 
 so that the oration was altogether not a httle 
 amusing. Barras, seeing me smile, grew im- 
 patient to make an end of M. Constant's speech, 
 which he very unceremoniously interrupted by 
 saying : — 
 
 " At first, I did not wish to see you in the 
 Directory ; not from any objection to yourself, 
 but on account of my engagements. Now, I 
 should see you there with pleasure on one con- 
 dition, which is, that you assure to us the co- 
 operation of Bonaparte." 
 
 " For what object ?" inquired I. 
 
 They all looked at each other. The mo- 
 ment had arrived when it was necessary to be 
 candid ; and, after a sign interchanged between 
 the Ex-Bishop of Autun and the Baroness, 
 Barras thus continued : — 
 
 " We are between two gulfs: the old re- 
 gime on the right, and terrorism on the left. 
 
 G 2
 
 84 AN ARM, AND NOT A HEAD. 
 
 By dint of leaning first to one side and then to 
 the other, we shall lose our equilibrium. We 
 must endeavour to stand firm and not fall ; but 
 it would be well to close up the gulfs which 
 are yawning on either side. This we might do 
 by pursuing our course in the path opened by 
 the present constitution (that of the year III and 
 not of 1793) ; but, to do so, we must have the 
 aid of a sword." 
 
 " Do you want Hoche, Moreau, Bernadotte, 
 or Augereau ?" inquired I. 
 
 Objections were urged against them all. Au- 
 gereau was declared to be useful only for a 
 coup-de-main. He was said to be an arm and 
 not a head. " There is only one," said Barras, 
 " only one who by sincerely uniting with us 
 could lend us ample support. Henceforth, in 
 all measures that may be contemplated, that 
 General must be placed in the foremost rank. 
 He has already been applied to through Ozun :* 
 
 * Marie Joseph Ozun, was a native of Sarrancolin in the 
 department of the Pyrenees, and was descended from an ancient 
 family in that part of the country. He was a man of talent 
 and of agreeable person and manners. On his arrival in Paris, 
 he commenced his official career in the office of the National 
 Treasury. He became a member of the Council of Five- Hun- 
 dred in 1795, and was made a tribune after the 18th Fructi- 
 dor. He was subsequently created Prefect of I'Ain, and he 
 died shortly afterwards in consequence of a fall from his horse. 
 At the time of his death, the First Consul, who was his inti-
 
 SCHEME OF MADAME DE STAEL. 85 
 
 upwards of two hundred persons have written to 
 him, and I wish you to procure his final 
 answer," 
 
 " What if he should demand a share of the 
 cake ?" 
 
 Barras. — How ? 
 
 " A place in the Directory." 
 
 Talleyrand. — He is not of the age. 
 
 " Oh! He is an exception. Nohody would 
 dispute the point with him." 
 
 They all laughed, and I joined them. Madame 
 de Stael now thought it was her turn to speak. 
 Her silence had hitherto been a manifest effort 
 of self-denial. 
 
 " I have suggested," said she, " that the 
 Director shall intrust me with the negotiation. 
 A woman is a person of no importance. Is it 
 not so, gentlemen ?" (We made many gallant 
 protestations to the contrary) I can go to Italy : 
 of all journeys that is the least hkely to awaken 
 curiosity. I will see the hero ; I will paint to 
 him a picture of his future glory. If he has a 
 spark of patriotism in his soul, I will fan it into 
 a flame. I will be his prophetess, his sybil, the 
 
 mate friend was about to give him the appointment of I'rcfct 
 chi Palais. From his entrance to the council of Five-Hundred 
 to the time of his death, he actively espoused the interests of 
 Napoleon. He has left behind him some very curious memoirs 
 extending from 1784 to I80S.
 
 8() SCIIEMK OF MADAME DE STAEL. 
 
 Egeria of a victorious Numa. This will ensure 
 success, ^vhilst, if you employ ordinary nego- 
 tiators, they will merely resort to cold common- 
 place arguments. Bonaparte will grow weary, 
 and matters will never arrive at a close. What 
 is your opinion, Monsieur de Cambacer^s ?" 
 
 I was by no means anxious to mediate be- 
 tween Barras and Bonaparte ; and I, therefore, 
 eagerly seconded the proposition of the enthusias- 
 tic daughter of Necker. " Gentlemen," said I, 
 " Madame de Stael is a man in politics, and the 
 Graces cannot fail to negotiate advantageously 
 with heroes." 
 
 I perceived that neither Barras nor M. de 
 Talleyrand shared my opinion. The former 
 observed : — 
 
 " I fear that the General, of whose stoicism I 
 have witnessed examples, will not be very well 
 pleased to see affairs during the Republic con- 
 ducted as they would have been in the reign of 
 Louis XV." 
 
 Talleyrand. — The Gentleman (Bonaparte) 
 is very positive, and but little given to gallantry. 
 So far from consenting to listen to Minerva, he 
 would, I verily believe, shrink from the zone of 
 Venus. 
 
 Though the pill was well gilded, yet never- 
 theless Madame de Stael shewed herself piqued. 
 However, some remarks which were made.
 
 FRENCH LOVE OF EXCITEMENT. 87 
 
 soothed her dissatisfaction, and the party took 
 leave of me, witli a very absurd recommendation 
 of secrecy. 
 
 Three hours afterwards, I repaired to the 
 Luxembourg: I desired Barras' valet-de-charabre 
 to inform his master that I was awaiting his 
 commands. Barras desired that I should be 
 shewn in, and, as soon as he saw me, said :— 
 
 " What do you think of that mad project ? 
 Do not imagine that I had any share in it. The 
 whole merit belongs to those two sages whose 
 heads Sappho has turned. They will see their 
 absurdity by and bye. However, she has talent 
 enough for the whole forty of a French 
 Academy.'' 
 
 * * Do you wish them to add another act to the 
 Revolution ?" I inquired. 
 
 " We must. The French are a strange 
 people ; agitation is their element, and they can- 
 not be kept tranquil. Such is their taste for 
 violent emotions, that repose is painful to them. 
 When they complain of inertness, they mean to 
 say : — We rise and go to bed to-day, just as we did 
 yesterday and the day before : this is too iveari- 
 some. Release us from this insipid state of existence!" 
 
 " It is too true," I observed. 
 
 " Well, then ! we must serve our master in 
 his own way. These Councils are plotting my 
 destruction, with that of La Reveill^re and Rew-
 
 88 MriTlIET APPLIED TO CARNOr. 
 
 bell. They are leagued with Carnot and Bar- 
 thelemy. You seem to doubt this. I know it 
 to be the fact. The ferocious Carnot (I repeat 
 the epithet which was used," said Prince Cam- 
 bacer^s, "without vouching for its appropriate- 
 ness. Carnot bowed, and we all laughed). . . . 
 The Republican Carnot wishes to be a Marquis, 
 and to fill a place at court, .1 tell you again it is 
 so . . Do you know so little of mankind ? Carnot 
 hates us and will do anything for the pleasure 
 of revenge. We must keep watch on him, and 
 anticipate his designs. If you are not for us, 
 your name will be inscribed as against us ; and 
 then, God help you ! If you will let good sense 
 guide you, you will have a decisive answer from 
 Bonaparte. In the first place, he must transmit 
 funds. The Treasury is drained. There is not 
 enough in it to pay for a man's supper : 
 
 Voila, belle Emilia, a quel point nous en sommes. 
 
 This droll application of the above line of 
 Corneille, made me laugh, though the subject of 
 our conversation was melancholy enough. I 
 shook my head and said : — 
 
 " Hoche will not agree to this." 
 
 " Never mind him." 
 
 " He will be compromised." 
 
 " That is his own fault." 
 
 I
 
 THE CORTES OF ARRAGON. 89 
 
 " And if he should speak ?" 
 
 " We must close his mouth." 
 
 " How are you to impose silence on a man in 
 his position?" 
 
 " There is a way to do so. . . .and an in- 
 fallihle one." 
 
 The tone in which this was said made me 
 shudder. I replied : — 
 
 " I know there is. But I need not trouble 
 myself about what does not concern me. I will 
 write to Bonaparte." 
 
 " Go and see him !" 
 
 " Stop !" said I, " this is not child's play. My 
 mission would excite attention. Would Bona- 
 parte be pleased with it ? If he could be 
 be brought to a favourable decision, I would 
 go. . . .If not, not — " 
 
 " Oh !" exclaimed Barras, laughing, " this is 
 the Cortes of Arragon over again ! But, seriously, 
 one cannot treat this gentleman so cavalierly as 
 one would another ... You are one of those 
 who threw him in my way in Vendemiaire." 
 '' Have you any reason to regret it ?" 
 " 1 do not mean to say I have .... But he is 
 worse than a bar of iron ; one can break that if 
 one cannot bend it ; but he is neither to be 
 broken nor bent. These obstinate spirits are 
 always more troublesome than useful .... And 
 then you turn round upon jne and say, tu Vas
 
 90 BONAPARTE AND FREDERICK II. 
 
 voulit, Georges Dandin ! ... .Weill I confess I 
 did admire him ; but then I knew nothing of 
 him beyond his courage and miUtary talent. 
 Who would have imagined, in these times, that 
 an officer would think about anything but pay 
 and promotion? His correspondence is quite 
 unique ! .... It is like Frederick II writing to his 
 Council of State ! » . . . What extended views ! . . 
 . .What lofty feelings of honour ! . . . . What fore- 
 sight ! If we ever suffer him to get a firm 
 footing in Paris, there will be but one dwelling 
 for him, and that is the Tuileries ; . . . . and he 
 will doff his mihtary cap for the crown of 
 France." 
 
 I listened with deep interest to these obser- 
 vations. Barras formed a just estimate of Bona- 
 parte ; but yet I was not without apprehension 
 that his fears might suggest that certain luay 
 of getting rid of him, which he had obscurely 
 hinted to me in reference to Hoche. I, therefore, 
 thought it expedient to subdue the bright colour- 
 ing of the portrait he had traced of Bonaparte, 
 to whom, nevertheless, I fully conceded other 
 qualities besides those of an able general. 
 
 " I am quite sensible," added I, " of the im- 
 portance of securing his concurrence. I will 
 write to him. I will see Lavalette. But will 
 he not be dissatisfied with the confidence you 
 have reposed in Augereau ?"
 
 BERNADOTTE. 91 
 
 Barras then told me that Augereau had 
 been allotted a part in the movement only be- 
 cause he had been expressly designated by Bo- 
 naparte, who, knowing him to be incapable of 
 governing, did not regard him with that jealousy 
 which Hoche, Joubert, Championnet, Moreau 
 and Bernadotte naturally inspired. '' Indeed," 
 continued Barras, " Bernadotte is as good as 
 Bonaparte ; he has as much talent. I have 
 sounded him, and his answer was, that he re- 
 garded Carnot as the most excellent of men, 
 and would never consent to aid in his destruc- 
 tion." But for this answer, I should not have 
 troubled my head about Bonaparte. Bernadotte 
 might always be opposed to him with advantage. 
 
 About this time, M. Lavalette, an aid-de- 
 camp of the Conqueror of Italy, arrived in 
 Paris, and soon became very intimate with the 
 Beauharnais family. This young man was ex- 
 ceedingly vain of being the bearer of communi- 
 cations from Bonaparte, and he made quite a 
 stir in Paris. To hear him, one would have 
 supposed that he had been sent on some secret 
 mission to the government. I advised him to 
 be more circumspect ; but he was young, vain 
 of his position, and anxious to be thought a 
 person of great importance. Lavalette was, 
 moreover, a most incorrigible gossip ; he was 
 shrewd and adroit, and very adequate to sustain
 
 92 COMPLIMENT TO CARNOT. 
 
 his part of Patrocles during the absence of 
 Achilles. 
 
 From certain facts that came to my know- 
 ledge, I was warranted in concluding that the 
 three Directors, who constituted the majority, 
 were less averse to the royalists than to Carnot. 
 whose inflexible integrity cut them ofl" from 
 all hope. His lofty disinterestedness was a 
 severe censure on their corrupt proceedings. 
 So much the worse did it prove for him who is 
 now present, and who hears me tell this, added 
 Cambaceres smiling. 
 
 As the Prince uttered these last words, 
 I fixed my eyes on Carnot, and I observed that 
 he reddened and looked embarrassed by the 
 compliment pronounced on him. Why did that 
 noble-minded man think it necessary to consent 
 to the unjust and tragical death of the best 
 of Kings ? The Prince proceeded : 
 
 " Barras left me, and shortly afterwards 1 saw 
 Ozun, who informed me of Bonaparte's hesi- 
 tation. Baron Rebecque also called. He came 
 to complain, in the name of Madame de Stael, 
 that I had forsaken her. I immediately went 
 to see her, and she poured forth a torrent of 
 complaints against every one. The Directory 
 did not choose to adopt her plans ; M. de 
 Talleyrand insisted on having his own way ; 
 and Bonaparte would not admit the fitness of
 
 THE DIRECTOR BARTHELEMY. 93 
 
 a woman to meddle with affairs which demanded 
 the exercise of mascuUne energy. I took my 
 leave of her. All things considered, I had good 
 reason to congratulate myself that I was not 
 included in the number of the proscribed of the 
 feth Fructidor. 
 
 ^^' Meanwhile, Generals Pichegru and Villot 
 were not slumbering. They were not seconded 
 by their weak and timid colleagues, who were 
 always prating about the letter of the con- 
 stitution, and who had none of the prompt 
 energy requisite for defeating intrigues. I knew 
 all that was going on ; I saw the tardy move- 
 ments of the royalists. I could not, at the 
 last moment refrain, as prudence would have 
 dictated, from warning the director — Barthelemy 
 — of the danger which threatened him. Chance 
 threw him in my way, for, as I was crossing the 
 Tuileries, I almost stumbled against him. ' Good 
 morning,' said he, ' how do you do?' and was 
 proceeding on his way, but I detained him. 
 
 " Mon Dieu !" said I, " honest men are un- 
 fortunate in these times !" 
 
 " ' They are, indeed,' replied he. 
 
 "May it not be, I resumed, owing to their 
 own blindness ? They will not see the wicked 
 plots that are brewing around them. For ex- 
 ample, I would lay a wager that you go to bed 
 every night in the confident hope of rising in 
 the morning.
 
 94 WARNING OF DANGER. 
 
 " He looked at me with an air of composure, 
 and said, ' What do you mean V 
 
 " Citizen, I advise you to look to your own. 
 personal safety. Danger is at hand." 
 
 " * What have you heard ?' 
 
 ' ' Nothing at all ... . But I know enough to 
 make me pity you. I have no wish to concern 
 myself with your business, but, were I in your 
 place, I would adjourn all those plans of reform, 
 (which ultimately will be accomplished without 
 effort) and I would seek Barras and Rewbell. 
 Assure them of your determination to unite 
 cordially with them, — tell them that you see the 
 mischief in which the royalists would enthral 
 you, and that you are resolved not to share 
 the ruin into which they would drag you. 
 
 *' ' I thank you, citizen, but I cannot possibly 
 follow your advice. The three members of the 
 majority are wretches whom I despise. I would 
 rather incur the chance of falling, than league 
 myself with them.' 
 
 "But your fall is certain and near at hand." 
 
 " ' Impavidum ferient ruince. . . .' 
 
 " That is sublime in Horace ; but in Paris in 
 the 18th century, it is the maxim. . . .1 paused. 
 
 " ' Go on,' said Barthelemy. 
 
 *' Well, then, it is the maxim of one who 
 is willing to be duped." 
 
 " * Ah Sir !' replied the director, ' you cannot
 
 THE NOTORIOUS PRINCE DE C 95 
 
 conceive the disgust — the contempt with which 
 I regard those odioas intrigues which disgrace 
 my colleagues. I know that they are plotting and 
 conspiring. If they seek my life, let them take 
 it ; but they shall never have my acquiescence 
 in their designs.' 
 
 "To-morrow, said I, your life may perhaps 
 be the forfeit of your honesty." 
 
 " ' To-morrow, that is very short notice ! . . . . 
 Then, if there is to be no longer respite, I must 
 consider my doom as sealed. To escape is 
 impossible .... God's will be done !' 
 
 "With these words, he departed, leaving me 
 in a state of feeling which I cannot attempt 
 to describe. 
 
 " He had not given me time to inform him 
 
 that the Prince de C , an offshoot of the 
 
 old regime, having been informed of the con- 
 spiracy by his father, the principal minister 
 of Louis XVIII, was about to sell his infor- 
 mation to the Directory. This wretch intended, 
 on the following night, to crown by a horrible 
 act of treason, the many crimes of his life. 
 Who has not heard of the notorious Prince 
 de C ?" 
 
 " I have seen him several times," observed 
 M. Vivant-Denon. " On one occasion, I was 
 standing at the lower end of the Rue Richelieu, 
 conversing with Count de Roche-— d'Al
 
 96 THE ORDER OF THE MIRE. 
 
 when we saw a hired cabriolet driving towards 
 us with great speed. The horse, dashing his 
 foot into the gutter, covered my interlocuter 
 with mud, upon which a voice from the inside 
 of the vehicle, wdiich we immediately recognized 
 as that of Prince C called out : 
 
 "'Ah, my dear Monsieur de Roche.... I 
 am very sorry for having splashed you. You 
 are covered with mud. Now, any wag passing 
 by, might say that you wear the insignia of 
 the order of the mire, of which they have made 
 me grand master.' 
 
 " Well," we exclaimed, '* if you do not em- 
 beUish the story he certainly designated himself 
 very correctly." 
 
 " I assure you it is literally true," pursued M. 
 Vivant-Denon. " On another occasion, I was 
 entering the Tuileries. I heard some one call 
 me by my name, and, looking round, who should 
 
 1 behold but the Prince de C . He was 
 
 fashionably dressed, and looking uncommonly 
 well, for he was a handsome fellow. He was 
 walking, not with a grisette or a female of the 
 lower class, but with a common street-walker. I 
 looked at him with amazement, and he smiled 
 at my surprise. 
 
 "'My dear fellow,' said he, 'this lady is 
 thirsty and I wish to procure her a glass of 
 beer. Can you lend me a crown ?'.. . .Anger
 
 IMPORTANT DISCLOSURES. 97 
 
 and impatience quite overcame me. I could 
 not trust myself to give him an answer ; so 
 I walked off and left him." 
 
 " And this fine gentleman," said Prince Cam- 
 baceres, " presumed on the sixteenth or seven- 
 teenth Fructidor to write a letter to Barras of 
 which I happen to possess a copy." 
 
 The Prince opened a closet, and, after turning 
 over some papers, took out a letter which he 
 read to us, and which he afterwards permitted 
 me to transcribe into my memorandum-book, 
 where I now find it. It is in the following 
 terms : — 
 
 " Citizen Director, 
 
 " My position is not calculated to inspire you 
 with confidence. I am an emigrant, not yet 
 finally erased, and a son of the minister of the 
 individual who styles himself Louis XVIII, and 
 King of France. My father, whose services 
 and integrity have been called in question by 
 that individual, is in complete disgrace. I have 
 his cause to avenge, and I wish to save the 
 RepubUc. Will you hear me ? But it nmst be 
 immediately ; for there is no time to be lost. 
 The delay of a single hour may be fatal. I 
 am so confident of the importance of the dis- 
 closures which I am about to make that I 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 98 PLOT OF THE ROYALISTS. 
 
 am willing you should detain me as a hostage 
 until you satisfy yourself of my sincerity, and 
 of the accuracy of the documents which I have 
 to lay before you. I am in the Rue Vaugirard, 
 under the portico of the Odeon, awaiting your 
 answer. Reflect well ; for the existence of the 
 present order of things depends on your atten- 
 tion to this. 
 
 "(Signed) C— " 
 
 " Barras, roused by this missive, assembled 
 Rewbell and La Reveillere, together with Sottin 
 and Merlin de Douai. Sottin was minister of 
 the Police, and Merlin de Douai was minister of 
 Justice. It was determined that Barras and 
 Sottin should that night have an interview with 
 the informer. They accordingly sent for Prince 
 
 C who, for the promise of a handsome 
 
 sum, revealed the whole plot of the royalists, 
 and with a degree of circumstantiality which 
 left no doubt of the truth of his statement. 
 It was soon ascertained how to defeat the con- 
 spiracy, and where to seize the conspirators. 
 The coup (Vetat was hurried on, and it was 
 accomplished on the night of the 1 7th Fructidor. 
 The succeeding events are known to you. M. 
 Carnot can inform us how he escaped." 
 
 "The narrative is in my Memoirs," observed
 
 PARTICULARS GIVEN BY CARNOT. 99 
 
 Carnot. " However, I may relate some par- 
 ticulars which I deemed it necessary to withhold 
 at the time I published my Memoirs, but which 
 I have now no reason to keep secret. I was 
 in fear both of the royalists and the jacobins ; 
 consequently, I turned a deaf ear to the mul- 
 tiplied representations of the members of the 
 right in both councils. My fear was the 
 return of the Bourbons. Could I have ima- 
 gined that they, being restored, would leave 
 me unmolested, whilst the jacobins, when in 
 the possession of power, employed it to per- 
 secute me ? The world seems to be turned 
 upside down. Early on the morning of the 
 17th Fructidor, at a sort of public audience, 
 to which I allowed any one to be admitted 
 who wore a uniform, I observed a young officer 
 about twenty years of age, making his way 
 through the crowd. He advanced to me and pre- 
 sented his hand, which I took. He then made 
 certain signs of the higher orders of free-ma- 
 sonry, denoting that I ought to treat him with 
 more respect than that which was merely due to 
 his uniform of sub-lieutenant. He led me to 
 the recess of one of the windows, and there, 
 after cautiously looking round him, he thus 
 addressed me : — 
 
 "'Citizen director, the Republic is betrayed 
 by Barras. I know the fact. The villain has 
 
 h2
 
 100 PROPOSED ASSASSINATION OF BARRAS. 
 
 sold US to his vices. Shall we endure this ? 
 Brutus did not hesitate to immolate his sons 
 for the salvation of Rome. Shall we shrink 
 from the sacrifice of a tyrant ? I am resolved 
 to rid the Republic of such a traitor. If you 
 will only authorize me to attempt a coup d'etat, 
 he shall speedily be no more.' 
 
 " To this intemperate address, I coolly re- 
 plied, that the law alone possessed the right 
 of shedding the blood of the criminal. You, 
 I added, render yourself criminal by this avowed 
 wish to anticipate the law. 
 
 " The officer, whose name I did not ascertain, 
 did not shew himself inclined to yield to my 
 remonstrance. He alleged that Barras was in 
 treaty with the Bourbons, that he knew the fact 
 on the best authority, and that at least it was 
 necessary to thwart his schemes. 
 
 " I employed every argument to convince 
 the young man of the atrocity of the proposition 
 he had suggested. I thought I had succeeded, 
 and congratulated myself on my victory. The 
 officer left me. But, in a little time afterwards, 
 he came again. He was ushered into the draw- 
 ing-room, where he wrote a note in pencil, 
 which he requested a servant to deUver to me. I 
 desired that he might be shewn into my closet, 
 and as soon as he beheld me he exclaimed : 
 " ' Well, citizen, you would not believe me.
 
 MYSTERIOUS BILLET. 101 
 
 Every thing is arranged, and the troops have 
 received orders to enter the constitutional circle. 
 Hoche is now nothing. The command is trans- 
 ferred to Augereau, who has orders to arrest 
 you. But this plot may yet be defeated. Barras 
 must die, and then the party, bereft of its 
 leader, will disperse like smoke. Give me your 
 sanction, and you will speedily see the scene 
 change.' 
 
 " As he spoke, I looked at him with a feeling 
 of pity, and, when he had ended, I said : Citizen, 
 in the conversation which I had with you just 
 now, I regarded you as a man whose mind was 
 disturbed by unfounded alarm ; now, however, 
 I must consider you a maniac. The plan you 
 propose would render me odious in the eyes of 
 all Europe. If you have reason to believe that 
 one or more members of the Directory are guilty 
 of treason, accuse them openly, face to face, and 
 not behind their backs. Denounce them to the 
 councils who will investigate any charges against 
 them. 
 
 " I was still closetted with this fanatic, when 
 my colleague, Barthelemy, was announced, and, 
 at the same moment, one of my secretaries de- 
 livered to me a billet containing the following 
 lines without any signature : — 
 
 " ' Carnot, have a care of yourself. Your des- 
 traction is resolved on. When the light of day
 
 102 BAUTIIliLEMY WARNED BY BARRAS. 
 
 shall be succeeded by the shades of night, the 
 work of your enemies will commence. A gun 
 fired at one o'clock in the morning, is to be the 
 signal for bloodshed. Assassins will enter your 
 chamber ; you will be murdered, and a new 
 revolution will begin.' 
 
 " This note, which as you may perceive was 
 written in a strange affected style, amazed me. 
 Every thing seemed to come upon me at once. 
 I desired the young officer, whose name I never 
 learned, not to attempt anything without ac- 
 quainting me, and to call on me on the morning 
 of the 18th. He shook his head, and said in a 
 desponding tone : ' To-morrow, it will be too 
 late !' He left me. Barthelemy seated himself, 
 and thus addressed me : 
 
 " ' I have just had a visit from Barras. He 
 affirms that the minority of the Directory is 
 contending against the majority, and that you 
 and I are lost ; — that our alliance excites dis- 
 pleasure. He told me, moreover, that the regard 
 they entertain for me makes them anxious to 
 save me, and that, to enable them to do so, it is 
 requisite I should resign this very day. By 
 offering your resignation,' added he, ' you will 
 prove your innocence, and shield yourself from 
 the impending storm.' My answer was such as 
 ought to have been given by a man who would 
 regard as dishonourable a resignation imposed
 
 CONFIDENCE OF CARNOT. 103 
 
 by circumstances. I said, moreover, that my 
 colleagues might scrutinize my public life, and 
 that they would find in it nothing reprehensible. 
 Barras persisted in urging me to resign, which 
 I firmly refused to do. He departed, giving me 
 to understand that I should be allowed one 
 or two weeks for reflexion. * I have lost no time 
 in coming to tell you this,' added Barthelemy, 
 ' that you may be made aware of the perilous 
 situation in which we both stand.' 
 
 "My dear colleague, replied I, as soon as 
 he had ended, I have just received commu- 
 nications from people more candid than Barras, 
 and from what they tell me, the danger which 
 threatens us is much more imminent. Here, 
 read this note which has just been delivered 
 to me. 
 
 " I handed him the epistle, which he read 
 a second and a third time. 
 
 " Surely, said I, you wish to learn it by 
 heart. . . .Well ! tell me what you think of it ! 
 
 " ' Heavens !' exclaimed Barthelemy, in a 
 piteous tone of voice, ' what will become of us ? 
 . . . .To-morrow night, the blow is to be struck !' 
 
 " I assured him that I saw no ground for 
 alarm ; and I deeply reproach myself for the 
 implicit confidence I reposed in the inviolability 
 of the constitution. Tlie Triumvirs, said I, 
 (meaning the three Directors,) are as ill at ease as
 
 104 COUNCrL OK THE DIRECTORY. 
 
 we are. All these mysterious communications 
 are only intended to work on our credulity. . . . 
 These worthies will think twice before they 
 sever the sacred compact which binds us all 
 together. B arras is a rogue, but you and myself 
 are honest men. All he wants is to scare us 
 away, so that we may leave the field open to his 
 manikins. Let us stand firm, keep ourselves 
 clear of the royalists, and we may brave our 
 enemies. 
 
 " I was mistrustful of my colleague. I knew 
 that he was in some way involved in the plans 
 of Pichegru, and I had doubts of his sincerity, 
 though those doubts were unfounded. I, how- 
 ever, succeeded in inspiring him with courage ; 
 and, it being the time appointed for the general 
 council of the Directory, we both proceeded 
 thither. Our three opponents held themselves 
 in reserve : not an angry word was uttered, 
 and they heard us speak, if not w4th pleasure, 
 at least with patience. The countenance of La 
 Reveill^re would have enabled me to guess that 
 something extraordinary was in agitation : there 
 was a sort of convulsive movement in his fe- 
 rocious features, which a shrewd observer might 
 have construed into the triumph of the traitor 
 exulting over his fallen victims. 
 
 " The sitting rose, and we separated. About 
 sunset, a multitude of low characters, such as
 
 THE PRAETORIAN GUARD. 105 
 
 the officers of the army of Fleuriot, loungers at 
 bilUard tables and gambling houses, and here 
 and there a few mihtary officers, who were really 
 imposed on, were collected in groups in the 
 garden of the Luxembourg. No one was per- 
 mitted to go out. I myself saw this raw Prae- 
 torian guard, worthy of its leaders ; and I began 
 to recover from my blindness. About eleven 
 o'clock, a female, Mme. de Les .... who was 
 intimate with Chenier, brought me a letter from 
 La Reveilli^re. It was addressed to Monsieur 
 Chenier, and was in these terms : 
 
 " ' Hold yourself in readiness to lend us your 
 assistance to-night, which is the time appointed for 
 the decisive stroke. If our friends second us, all 
 will go well.' 
 
 " Allent, my secretary, was with me at the 
 moment when the veil was drawn from my eyes. 
 My consternation gave him the first hint of 
 what had occurred. At that moment, a loud 
 knocking was heard at my door. It was Ge- 
 neral Cherin, who, knowing nothing of the 
 l)lot, came to inform me that a crowd of sus- 
 picious persons were collected in the Luxem- 
 bourg. He asked me for orders, for he had not 
 been let into the secret. I informed him that, 
 as I was no longer President, (my time had ex- 
 pired,) he must address himself to La Reveillic^re. 
 He had been in (juest of the latter, who luid
 
 lOG A RECONNOITRING VISIT. 
 
 fled in alarm from the Luxembourg, and had 
 taken refuge in the house of one of his friends ; 
 but, at the moment, only his disappearance, and 
 not his place of retreat, was ascertained. I saw 
 that it was no time for hesitation, and, though 
 divested of power, I directed the commandant 
 to clear the Luxembourg. The mob, who had 
 assembled there, immediately obeyed the order, 
 though its legality was very questionable, and 
 adjourned to another place of rendez-vous, 
 where they were again routed after one in the 
 morning. 
 
 " General Cherin had scarcely left me when 
 Barthelemy arrived. He had been sitting quietly 
 at his game of tric-trac, when some one came 
 to announce to him the movements of the hire- 
 lings of Barras. He asked what was to be done. 
 
 " Escape, replied I, or you will be murdered. 
 Those scoundrels will never forgive you. 
 
 *' He was standing in ray apartment con- 
 founded, and not knowing what course to take, 
 when an aid-de-camp of Augereau entered. 
 He had come, he said, merely to call on me. 
 
 " Citizen, said I, be more frank: say that 
 you have come to reconnoitre me. 
 
 " He stammered and looked confused, and I 
 dismissed him with the indignation he merited. 
 As soon as he was gone, Barthelemy returned 
 to the charge, and implored me to advise him,
 
 carnot's place of refuge. 107 
 
 " We have not even time to act, said I ; how 
 can we have time to talk ? 
 " Barthelemy departed, 
 
 Victime obeissante, 
 Tendre au fer de Colchas une tete innocente. 
 
 "For my part, 1 retired to rest, without un- 
 dressing. I lay down, not in my usual bed, but 
 in one which was concealed behind a panel in my 
 dining-room. There I remained for a little time, 
 and then, arming myself with every precaution, I 
 went out by a secret door, leading into one of 
 the private gardens surrounding the Luxem- 
 bourg. I carried with me two pistols. At that 
 moment, the alarm guns were firing. I wan- 
 dered about the streets for three hours, exposed 
 to no little danger, before I could venture to 
 enter the place of refuge which was prepared 
 for me and where I was anxiously expected. 
 Having slipped in, I found myself in safety, and 
 then, hon soir to my enemies. 
 
 " On the signal being given from the battery 
 of the Pont-Neuf, Barras immediately sum- 
 moned General Cherin, who had received the 
 supreme command of our guard. He gave him 
 secret orders to seize my person, dead or alive ; 
 to break open my doors to get at me. Cherin 
 hurried oft" to fulfil his mission, and, in proof of 
 his zeal, resolved to employ a petard, if I did
 
 108 ARREST OF BARTHELEMY. 
 
 not surrender at the first summons. Allent, 
 hearing a noise at my door, went to ascertain 
 what it was ; a party of soldiers rushed upon 
 him, and, holding their bayonets to his throat, 
 obliged him to shew them my place of con- 
 cealment. He conducted them to the secret 
 bed behind the panel. Theij found it warm, as 
 they said in their report ; but the object of their 
 search was gone. 
 
 "Allent smiled in petto at the disconsolate 
 air of Cherin, who expected to be charged with 
 want of zeal. He was not mistaken, for he was 
 dismissed a few days afterwards. Rewbell, un- 
 able to controul his rage and disappointment, 
 shook his clenched fist in Cherin's face, and 
 Cherin took the affront quietly, for fear of worse. 
 
 " Barras was more successful. He had him- 
 self undertaken the honourable mission of ar- 
 resting Barthelemy. He seized him in bed. Bar- 
 thelemy, raising his eyes to Heaven, exclaimed: 
 O ma patrie ! Like a lamb dragged to the 
 slaughter, he was taken to the Temple, and 
 from thence transported to Sinamary. 
 
 " The infamous triumvirate used their victory, 
 as you know, with unparalleled barbarity. I 
 can never pardon the style of their first pro- 
 clamation. It ran thus : 
 
 " ' Citizens, a vast number of emigrants, con- 
 sisting of the assassins of Lyons and the brigands
 
 THE DUKE OF ORLEANS. 109 
 
 of La Vendee, drawn hither by royalist intrigues, 
 and the tender interest which has been fear- 
 lessly and publicly extended to them, have 
 attacked the posts which surrounded the Execu- 
 tive Directory ; but the vigilance of the govern- 
 ment and their chiefs of the armed force have 
 defeated their criminal attempts.' 
 
 " In the second edition, the false words have 
 attacked, were superseded, by the w'ords ivere to 
 have attacked ; and it was announced that any 
 one attempting to recall the monarchy, or the 
 constitution of the year I, or of Orleans, would 
 be shot. 
 
 This last observation of Carnot, induced me 
 to remark that the Duke of Orleans was dead at 
 the time alluded to. 
 
 "'Yes,' said Prince Cambacer^s, 'but he 
 had left sons behind him. The elder, whom he 
 had seen maintaining so farourable an attitude 
 w^ith the Moderates, previously to February 
 1793, was still labouring to gain a party for 
 himself, and I saw that he was succeeding.' 
 
 "Among all the astonishing things one sees 
 now, observed I, not the least extraordinary is to 
 see the Duke of Orleans in France. The Bour- 
 bons are not very quick sighted ; if they do not 
 perceive the constant danger to which they are 
 exposed by suffering, within two paces of the 
 throne, a Prince who is quaUfied to ascend it.
 
 IIU LEONIDAS AT TIFERMOPYL/E. 
 
 " I was surprised at the coolness with which 
 my remark was received. No person present 
 appeared to notice it. There was a short pause, 
 which David broke, by the following observa- 
 tion, which he made as naturally as if the 
 course of the conversation had led to it — 
 
 " ' The Emperor, without, perhaps, being a 
 passionate lover of the fine arts, knew their im- 
 portance in a state. He was anxious that they 
 should engross a great share of public attention. 
 I went to pay my respects to him immediately 
 after the 18th Brumaire. As soon as he saw me, 
 he saluted me by the title of the French 
 Apelles, and asked me what subject I was en- 
 gaged on.' 
 
 *' 1 replied, Leonidas at Thermopylae. He 
 shrugged his shoulders and said : 
 
 " ' Ah David, you are always painting the 
 Greeks and Romans, and, what is still worse, the 
 conquered ! 
 
 " ' Yes, Citizen David, pursued he, the con- 
 quered. Is it conformable with the principles of 
 reason that three hundred men should face three 
 miUions ? If they do so, they are not heroes but 
 madmen, and fit to be sent to the Petites-Maisons. 
 All resistance should be rational, and should be 
 founded on a probability of success ; otherwise, 
 whatever name may be given to it, it is pure 
 extravagance, and ought not to be recorded
 
 A SUBJECT FOR A PICTURE. Ill 
 
 in pictures on account of the bad example that 
 would be conveyed. A small number of men 
 may cause the failure of a great movement, by 
 an imprudent and obstinate defence. I ad- 
 vise you to make choice of some incident in 
 our own history. Modern times are not w^anting 
 in good subjects.' 
 
 " I was somewhat astonished by these re- 
 marks, which were by no means in accordance 
 with my predilection for the antique. I ap- 
 proached the First Consul and said in a voice 
 loud enough to be heard by him alone : 
 
 " Perhaps a coronation might meet with ap- 
 proval. 
 
 " ' Not just yet,' replied Bonaparte, laughing. 
 ' Ah ! republican, there is a wide difference 
 between that and Thermopylae. However, do 
 what you please ; your pencil will confer cele- 
 brity on any subject you may handle. For every 
 great historical picture you choose to paint, you 
 shall be paid a hundred thousand francs.' 
 
 " Subsequently, he was proclaimed Emperor. 
 The first time he saw me, after this change, he 
 beckoned me to approach him. I obeyed. 
 
 " * Have you any designs ready ?' inquired 
 he. 
 
 " I understood his hint, and, bowing, replied 
 It is not designs that are wanting ; but where 
 is the ceremony to be fixed, and in wliat 
 costume?'
 
 112 DAVID AND ISABEY. 
 
 " ' We will speak of this matter another 
 time.' 
 
 " Would any one have imagined that, after 
 this conversation, I should not have heen ap- 
 pointed to execute the programme of the 
 coronation ? Yet, I was passed over, and the 
 commission w^as given to Isabey. The details 
 were all collected from the past, it is true : but 
 they bore no trace of the glory of the Roman 
 empire. The Emperor himself directed a great 
 share of his attention to the regulation of the 
 costumes and decorations. He arranged the 
 escutcheon of the empire." 
 
 Here Count Fabre de I'Aude observed, that in 
 his post of Procureur-General of the Conseil du 
 sceaux des litres he had had the opportunity of 
 becoming acquainted with some particulars not 
 generally known, which he would relate to 
 us. 
 
 " At first," continued the Count, " the First 
 Consul was recommended to assume the title 
 and functions of king. ' That will not do,' he 
 replied, ' royalty was destroyed on the scaffold 
 of Louis XVI, and it would be requisite to 
 exhume it from the ruins in which it lies buried. 
 The title of Emperor would be the thing that 
 would enable me to leap over an interval of ten 
 centuries. Then I should be, not the successor 
 of Henry IV, or of Philip Augustus, but of 
 Charlemagne, and thus linked with the Roman
 
 THE SOVEREIGN TITLE. 1 13 
 
 empire. This would entitle me to the supre- 
 macy over other crowned heads, and to the 
 Protectorate of Germany. With the title of 
 Emperor, I might style myself supreme ruler of 
 Italy. I should neither violate nor cause to be 
 violated any oath : and every one would be 
 satisfied.' 
 
 " Napoleon addressed these words to Count 
 Regnault, who laughed, and said : — " I assure 
 you I should not be very deeply vexed, if you 
 should oblige me to commit perjury in such a 
 case. We have taken so many oaths, that it 
 would be no easy matter to find out which is 
 the right one. If you wish for the imperial 
 title, be it so : its novelty will please^ and the 
 nation will readily adopt it. The nation dislikes 
 only the Committee of Public Safety and the 
 directors. But, before you can take your rank 
 among the sovereigns of Europe, you must have 
 a coat of arms. Will you adopt your father's 
 escutcheon, which is azure, a gold rake in pale, 
 with three fleur-de-lis, two in chief, one in 
 point?" 
 
 " ' My dear Count,' rephed Napoleon, ' you 
 are quite mistaken. Where did you learn that 
 that was the Bonaparte escutcheon ? Who- 
 ever told you so, had not consulted the registers 
 of the military school, where my brothers and 
 I were educated, nor the archives of Saint Cyr, 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 114 THE BONAPARTE ESCUTCHEON. 
 
 where my sister Eliza was brought up. If they 
 had, they would have known that our shield is 
 gules with two bars of gold, accompanied in 
 chief sinister and in point dexter by a star of 
 gold. The shield supported by two Gothic 
 letters B and P, and surmounted by a Count's 
 coronet. Madame Permon, likewise, made me 
 a present of the arms of her family, the 
 Comneni. But I shall not take the one or the 
 other. It is my wish to be in all things 
 amalgamated with France. She is my adopted 
 mother, and we will both bear the same 
 shield.' 
 
 " Then," resumed Regnault, " you would 
 make choice of the old Gallic cock ; and he may 
 hold in his claws a tri-coloured standard ?" 
 
 " ' The cock,' said Napoleon, ' in spite of his 
 good qualities, is not a sufficiently dignified 
 representative of a great nation. We must 
 have an animal more imposing, more emble- 
 matic of power : an elephant for . example, or 
 a lion couchant on the map France, with one 
 paw thrust forward to the boundary of the 
 Rhine, and the device. Gave a qui me cherche.' 
 
 " Ma foil'' exclaimed Regnault, " but why 
 should we determine limits, which the lion may 
 show himself inclined to overstep." 
 
 " Napoleon approved of this hint, and be- 
 gan to think of something else. Regnault 
 
 J
 
 THE NATIONAL FLAG. 115 
 
 suggested the fleur-de-lis. The mere utterance 
 of the word produced an effect almost electrical. 
 
 ' ' ' Never ! ' exclaimed Napoleon ; ' those en- 
 signs of a proscribed family shall never again 
 be seen among us. I am not the son of Louis 
 XVI. I commence a new dynasty, or rather, 
 I found an empire. Let us not revive old re- 
 collections, but adhere to our young institutions. 
 My dynasty will not be that of Hugues Capet, 
 — it will be my own, and will commence with 
 myself. Names and things are the same : your 
 fleurs-de-lis and white flags belong to the 
 Bourbons ; I will, therefore, retain the three 
 colours with which they were driven away. We 
 must recognize, by the diflerence of form and 
 colour, the banner round which we are to rally, 
 should the conflict commence again. You seem 
 not to be aware of the influence of recollections 
 on mankind ; unfurl a white flag, embroidered 
 with fleur-de-lis, and one half of France will 
 regard as inevitable the return of Louis XVIII, 
 
 an event which no one now dreams of I 
 
 am Emperor ! I succeed Charlemagne and 
 
 the Ca?sars, and I must have their emblems. 
 The empire and myself will, therefore, adopt 
 an eagle with spread wings, adorned with a 
 thunder-bolt. The eagle shall be of gold, on 
 a field .... What colour is considered noblest ? 
 gules, I think. . . .Well, then, on a field of gules. 
 
 I 2
 
 IIG THE EAGLE AND THE BEES. 
 
 But, stay, — the Parisians might think that too 
 red. It would furnish a subject for jests ; and 
 it would be said that my eagle, instead of hover- 
 ing in the air, was swimming in blood.' 
 
 " Would you have the mantle embroidered 
 with eagles ?" 
 
 " ' No, that would have a bad effect. I would 
 have gold stars, or rather gold bees. The 
 latter would be a national emblem, for bees 
 were found in the tomb of Chilperic. That 
 insect is the symbol of industry. The stars 
 will be for me, and the bees for the people. 
 These, and the gold eagle, with the thunder- 
 bolt in his claws, on a field of azure, picturing 
 the Heaven to which he is soaring: — these are 
 more than sufficient. Then, for my livery, I 
 shall have green. I will not have blue, lest that 
 should revive the memory of the Bourbons. 
 The tri-coloured flag will lead us to victory ; 
 and the French of the next generation will have 
 nothing in common with their forefathers. The 
 lily will be irrevocably abolished. Our national 
 colours and emblems will all refer to me ; and 
 to our descendants I shall be the founder of all 
 things.' 
 
 When Count Fabre had ceased speaking, we 
 all with one accord expressed our admiration of 
 the depth of Napoleon's perceptions. 
 
 "I recollect^" said Prince Cambacer^s,
 
 THE HEREDITARY CONSULATE. 117 
 
 '* about the beginning of January 1804, having 
 an interview with the First Consul on some 
 IDublic business. Having arranged the affair 
 about which we met, I rose to take leave of 
 him, but he detained me, saying, ' It is not 
 late ; stay and let us have a little conversation 
 together. I wish very much, my dear colleague, 
 to have your opinion respecting my present 
 position. Foreign powers treat me well, it is 
 true, but, having no confidence in the stabihty 
 of our government, they hesitate to form any 
 close alhance with me. The hereditary consul- 
 ate staggers them. They think it strange that 
 I should be the hereditary chief of the govern- 
 ment, whilst, on the other hand, I am only the 
 first magistrate of the republic. This is a 
 stumbling block in the way of diplomatic re- 
 lations. AVhat is your opinion? is there no 
 way of getting out of this difficulty ?' 
 
 " I candidly confess, gentlemen," said Prince 
 Cambaceres, addressing himself to us " that 
 my imagination was every day wandering to a 
 better order of things. The melancholy trial 
 we had made of the republic, had sufficiently 
 proved that that form of government was un- 
 fitted to a vast state, in which every citizen 
 cannot keep watch over the universality of the 
 citizens, and consequently can but imperfectly 
 guard against the establishment of tyranny.
 
 118 FEELING IN FAVOUR OF MONARCHY. 
 
 The prosperity wliicli had now succeeded to 
 terror, famine and depression, the re-establish- 
 ment of commerce, the flourishing state of 
 agriculture, the restoration of religion and the 
 arts : — all convinced me of the advantage of a 
 monarchy, especially with a chief like the First 
 Consul. Thus I had accustomed myself to 
 reflect on the subject, and, when Napoleon 
 broached it, I frankly broke the ice, I stopped 
 short, for I was walking up and down the room, 
 and said — 
 
 *' The only question is to ascertain whether 
 the pear be ripe ; if it be, make haste and gather 
 it !" 
 
 " ' Who can inform us of the fact ?' 
 
 " The prefects and the electoral colleges. Let 
 us venture a few . hints, and see how they 
 are taken. For my own part, I am convinced 
 that there is in the mass of the nation, a com- 
 plete re-action in favour of monarchy." 
 
 " ' You are of opinion, then, that the resto- 
 ration of monarchy would not be viewed unfa- 
 vourably ?' 
 
 " All right minded men wish for it." 
 
 " ' But, my dear colleague, it surely would not 
 do to be re-established in favour of the Bour- 
 bons ?' 
 
 " Certainly not. .As to me, I am quite ready 
 to lend my co-operation in the great work."
 
 IMPERIAL SOVEREIGNTY. 119 
 
 " ' You are wise. . I have reflected on this sub- 
 ject. , T would not accept the title of king.. I 
 should wish to present myself to France and to 
 Europe under a new title, more imposing and 
 more elevated. I would not revive the royalty of 
 Hugues Capet ; I would re-establish the empire 
 of Charlemagne. This would at once elevate 
 the newly-created Csesar above the kings of 
 Europe, and would enable him, hereafter, to 
 recover the privileges annexed to the western 
 empire, and which Germany has wrested from 
 France.' 
 
 " That is a grand idea." 
 
 " ' Besides, we have, it is true, all vowed 
 hatred to royalty ; but we have taken no such 
 oath against imperial sovereignty. The title of 
 emperor will not be revolting to any republican 
 conscience. I am firmly of opinion that, if 
 they think of changing the present state of 
 things, it is to an empire only that we must 
 direct our views.' 
 
 " But," said I, " in adopting the forms of the 
 Roman republic, (of which we already have the 
 tribunes, the queestors, and the prefects,) would 
 you preserve, under the emperor, the two con- 
 suls, the one having charge of the finances, 
 and the other of the general administra- 
 tion?" 
 
 '* ' No,' quickly answered Napolcoji, ' the
 
 120 CONFERENCES. 
 
 title of Consul would naturally disappear as 
 soon as the post ceases to be annual. The 
 titles of prince arch-chancellor, and of prince 
 arch-treasurer, would appropriately supersede 
 them.' 
 
 " Then the arch-chancellorship is disposed 
 of," said I, feeling confidant that the lion would 
 set apart that share for me. 
 
 " Here our first conference ended. Others 
 afterwards took place, which w^ere attended by 
 MM. Regnault, Fabre de I'Aude, Maret, de 
 Fermont, Fourcroy, Fontanes, and Monge ; 
 Marshals Davoust, Perignon, Massena, Moncey, 
 Mortier, Ney, Bessieres, and Bernadotte. This 
 last was not very manageable. However, his 
 brother-in-lavv^, Joseph Bonaparte, by some 
 adroit contrivance, succeeded in diverting him 
 from his intention of giving a negative vote to 
 the creation of the empire. Providence has 
 rewarded him for this return to rational ideas, 
 by elevating him to a throne, on which he 
 reflects glory, and where he enjoys happi- 
 ness. 
 
 " It appears to me that, heretofore, the gene- 
 ral of the republic, the marshal of the empire, 
 the Prince de Ponte-Corvo, the Prince Royal of 
 Sweden, in line. King Charles John Berna- 
 dotte, has not had justice rendered to him : his 
 character and conduct have not been duly ap-
 
 THE KING OF SWEDEN. 121 
 
 predated. Almost all the judgments hitherto 
 pronounced on that exalted personage have 
 been dictated by passion. It is my intention 
 to write a faithful history of his life in 
 which it shall be my endeavour to paint 
 him as he really is. In the course of time, 
 France will be enabled to understand the merits 
 of the King of Sweden, who is one of the most 
 illustrious of her sons : — she will perceive, too, 
 the advantage she enjoys, (after having lost 
 Si)ain) in having in the north of Europe a mo- 
 narch a native of her own territory, and whose 
 posterity will ever bear in mind that their ances- 
 tor was the compatriot of Henry IV. The lives 
 of Charles, John, and Prince Eugene, will soon 
 employ my pen."
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Secret audience granted by His Majesty Louis XVIII to 
 Cambaceres — Carnot's Memorial — Gloomy forebodings — 
 How their fulfilment might be avoided — A comic scene 
 •with three serious characters — Freemasons and White 
 Penitents — Anecdote of the Princess Borghese — ]Madame 
 Mere — Story of a Vampire related by Fouche, when Minis- 
 ter of the Police — Tlie Lady of the Forest, a Languedocian 
 anecdote — Mysterious disappearances — Baron Pasquier, the 
 Prefect of Police — Parisian thieves and swindlers — The dia- 
 mond shoe-buckles — The pretended Russian Prince and the 
 parure of diamonds — The snuff-box and the robber duped — 
 Robespierre and the English — A proposed marriage between 
 Robespierre and a Royal Princess — Robespierre's blue coat, 
 and bouquet of tri-coloured flowers — A story related by 
 Tallien — A second proposition for a marriage between Robes- 
 pierre and a Princess — True cause of the death of the 
 Duke of Orleans. 
 
 I CALLED on the Prince one evening early. 
 He had dined alone : I found him in excellent 
 spirits, and I told him so. 
 
 " You will not be surprised at that," said he, 
 " when you hear what I am going to tell you.
 
 CAMBACERES AND LOUIS XVIII. 123 
 
 You know how much I am attached to Paris ; 
 in short, that I cannot Uve any where else. 
 Nevertheless, it was the wish of the government 
 that I should quit France ; this annoyed me 
 exceedingly, and I resolved to have the point 
 decided one way or other. I did not appeal to 
 the Abbe de Montesquiou, (the minister of the 
 interior) nor to M. de Talleyrand, (grand 
 chamberlain and minister for foreign affairs) 
 nor to M. de Blacas, (the minister of the King's 
 household and his Majesty's favourite) : I very 
 cavalierly passed over them all, and addressed 
 myself directly to Louis XVIII. The frank and 
 decided tone of my letter pleased the King. I 
 was informed that he would consent to receive 
 me, but that it must be in the utmost privacy, 
 and on condition that the opposition papers 
 should say nothing on the subject. I pledged 
 myself for the observance of this last condition, 
 and this morning I saw the King." 
 
 " You saw him, Monseigneur?" I exclaimed. 
 *' And did he receive you graciously?" 
 
 " His Majesty was alone in his closet ; and I 
 was admitted by a stair-case appropriated to 
 persons of the household, and with which I was 
 very well acquainted in the Emperor's time. 
 On entering the King's presence, I made my 
 obeisance with the utmost possible respect, and 
 His Majesty then said :
 
 124 CONVERSATION WITH THE KING. 
 
 " ' Duke de Cambac^res, I am very glad to 
 see you. I know all that you have done for 
 my faithful servants. I know, too, that your 
 vote on the occasion of the fatal trial, was 
 not for the sentence of death, and that it was 
 your intention to elude it. I entertain a high 
 opinion of your judgment ; and I have reason 
 to rejoice that Bonaparte did not listen to your 
 prudent counsel. I am desirous of conferring 
 on you some marks of my approval.' 
 
 ** This kindness overwhelms me, Sire, I 
 replied. Your Majesty is aware that during 
 your exile I endeavoured to save you from more 
 than one danger : at Warsaw, for example — 
 
 " ' Yes, my cousin, but for your information, 
 the assassin would have taken my life. There 
 is one here who would fain take to himself 
 the credit of the disclosure ; but I know it is 
 due to you. What is your wish ?' 
 
 " To live in Paris, under the dominion of our 
 excellent King." 
 
 " ' I have resolved to banish no one ; and I 
 shall not certainly begin with you. I wish 
 I were so situated as to have it in my power to 
 call you to my council ; but that is not possible, 
 yet. Too many persons, too many prejudices, 
 would oppose such a step. But I trust that 
 time will subdue these hostile feelings. I shall 
 bear in mind that Bonaparte, whose judgment
 
 carnot's memorial. 125 
 
 in such matters cannot be called in question, 
 regarded you as the best head in the empire. I 
 feel convinced that you would not have com- 
 mitted the error of which M, Carnot has been 
 guilty.' 
 
 " Carnot had just then published his famous 
 Memorial in which he justified the regicide. 
 
 " I expressed my disapproval of Carnot's ill- 
 judged step ; and I assured His Majesty that, 
 with the exception of kneeling at the feet of 
 Carnot, 1 had done everything in my power to 
 dissuade him from giving his unfortunate Me- 
 morial to the world. I pointed out to him the 
 pain which it would inflict on all the voters, 
 many of whom were repentant, and that it 
 would render them the objects of persecution. 
 He disregarded my remonstrances. At least, said 
 I, do not expose the Memorial for sale. 
 
 " ' It was a most reprehensible proceeding,' 
 said Louis XVIII. * I was urged to punish him ; 
 but I bound my hands, and I am glad I did so. 
 All the happiness of the restoration would have 
 been blighted, had I been compelled to shed 
 blood. Is it not almost inconceivable, Sir, that 
 such an event should have taken place without 
 any violent catastrophe ?' 
 
 " I assure you, my dear Leon, said Prince 
 Cambacer^s, that I was extremely gratified at 
 thus being brought to a subject which enabled
 
 120 THE ROYAL CHARTER. 
 
 me without flattery to eulogize the King. Sire, 
 said I, your return is a miracle, and your con- 
 duct a sublime example of wisdom. Your 
 execution of the will of Louis XVI must ever 
 secure to you the affection and veneration of the 
 nation. May Your Majesty reign long, very 
 long, to consolidate the edifice !" 
 
 " ' You are satisfied with the charter?" 
 "It is a bridge thrown over an abyss : — 
 the only path by which the gulf may be passed 
 in perfect safety. It will be the beacon and 
 polar star of the French people, 
 
 " ' It appears to me clear and well arranged.' 
 " It reserves to the throne all the power 
 necessary for its preservation ; and it leaves to 
 the people all the liberty of which they stand in 
 need. Your Majesty has triumphantly resolved 
 a most difficult problem. 
 
 " ' I conjure you, my dear Duke, to use your 
 influence to prevail on the men of the revolution 
 to rally round us. They will find it their interest 
 to do so. Our intention is to follow the example 
 of Bonaparte and to receive every one : to 
 employ men who are capable of being useful, both 
 in military and civil affairs. In the first instance, 
 some acts of injustice have been committed ; 
 but, be assured, I will repair them. I bring with 
 me peace and a prosperity hitherto unknown to 
 France. I have witnessed in England the ad-
 
 GLOOMY FOREBODINGS. 127 
 
 vantages of the protection accorded to trade. 
 Union and oblivion are the sole objects of my 
 desire. You are a man of judgment and tact, 
 and you enjoy a high reputation abroad. It 
 excites surprise that you are not in my council ; 
 I tell you again that you will have a place there, 
 and soon. Reside in Paris, or travel : in short, 
 go and come as you please. If, by chance, the 
 spirit of intrigue should destroy your quiet, ap- 
 peal to me.' 
 
 " With these words, the King dismissed me, 
 and I returned home quite transported with my 
 reception. Now, this circumstance must be 
 known to very few, and I have made you one of 
 those few, because I know you to be discreet 
 and attached to me." 
 
 I expressed my acknowledgments for the con- 
 fidence the Duke reposed in me ; but I felt that 
 I deserved it, by the sincere regard I cherished 
 for him. I am gratified in having the oppor- 
 tunity of rendering him justice and recording 
 his virtues. On that same day, I asked him 
 what he thought of public affairs. He closed 
 his eyes, compressed his lips, made a sort of 
 grimace, which certainly did not improve his 
 looks, and, after a minute's reflection, said : 
 
 " I should wish to predict nothing but pros- 
 perity, and yet I see the future overclouded 
 by storms. The Emperor's stay in the Isle of
 
 128 POLITICAL CHANGES. 
 
 Elba will only be temporary. They are driving 
 him to return to France. If he should come 
 back, all that is done will be undone, and 
 Europe will be convulsed for more than half a 
 century. The King is a monarch of the rarest 
 merit. If he do not fall a victim to some 
 political tempest, he will die on the throne. 
 But, after him, unwise counsellors will be listened 
 to ; women will resume their sway ; frivolity 
 will be considered one of the cardinal virtues 
 among the higher ranks. The army and literary 
 men, who form an order in the state, will be 
 dissatisfied, and the whole edifice will totter to 
 its foundation." 
 
 " And how is this catastrophe to be avoided, 
 Monseigneur ?" 
 
 " By following the tact of the Emperor. The 
 change that has taken place should have been 
 regarded merely as a question of persons, and 
 not of principles. The Emperor was dead ; we 
 had only to cry Vive le roi .'.... The King was 
 precisely the same as the Emperor. Every 
 thing was in its place, and every functionary at 
 his post. Except that the chief of the state 
 bore the title of King, we were still in the empire. 
 The tri -coloured flag and the eagle were abo- 
 lished, it is true, andfleurs de lis were substituted 
 for bees. These were the only changes, and no 
 official man was to be removed from his post,
 
 ' SECRET ASSOCIATIONS. 129 
 
 except by death or voluntary resignation. Had 
 this plan been strictly adhered to, all pretext for 
 discontent and recrimination would have been 
 removed. Custom had moulded us to obedience ; 
 we could dispense with the liberty of the press, 
 and even with personal liberty. The severity of 
 the conscription being mitigated by the establish- 
 ment of peace, general happiness would have 
 prevailed. But, instead of this, we are threatened 
 with complete change, which has the effect of 
 inspiring fear. All this will end badly. What 
 do you propose to do ? 
 
 " To keep myself aloof; to look on at pass- 
 ing events, and await their result." 
 
 ' ' Do not become a member of any associa- 
 tion." 
 
 " Monseigneur, I have resolved neither to 
 become a free-mason nor a penitent ; and, more- 
 over, I am resolved to keep myself clear of 
 that host of intriguers, who are divided into two 
 sections : rogues and dupes." 
 
 "What '...You are a native of Montpellier, 
 transplanted to Toulouse andCarcassone ! . , and is 
 it possible that you have not put on either the 
 blue gown or the black, the grey or the white ?'' 
 
 " My father-in-law, who is Prior of the 
 white brotherhood of Carcassone, entered my 
 name in the association ; but tliat was not 
 enough : it was necessary to have my person, 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 130 WHITE PENITENTS. 
 
 also, and that was not quite so easy. My 
 father-in-law now found himself in a difficulty. 
 He knew that a direct refusal was not to be 
 thought of. Consequently, one day when I was 
 busily engaged writing in my library, the 
 door was opened, and the servant announced 
 some gentlemen from the brotherhood of the 
 White Penitents of Carcassone. I was con- 
 founded. I rose from my chair, and beheld 
 all the dignitaries before me, except the prior, 
 who, for good reasons, had entrenched himself 
 behind the door. The spokesman of the party 
 stepped forward and repeated the names of all my 
 ancestors who had been penitents, and informed 
 me that all my relations, now existing, were peni- 
 tents also ; after saying which, he wound up his 
 speech by the flattering intimation that, at the ex- 
 press request of M. G and my father-in- 
 law, I had been unanimously received a member 
 of the brotherhood. This was a critical moment. 
 To decline the honour, appeared next to im- 
 possible ; and might perhaps have been attended, 
 with danger. Fanaticism is not yet extinct in 
 the south. I, therefore, bowed, profoundly, and 
 said : Gentlemen I should feel highly honoured 
 in being associated with you ; but there is 
 an insurmountable obstacle in the way. I am 
 a jansenist, and, consequently, cannot become 
 a white penitent. The solemn tone in which 
 I uttered this announcement carried conviction
 
 AN HONOUR DECLINED. 131 
 
 to the minds of the worthy citizens, who, though 
 very good men of business, were profoundly 
 ignorant, (and Heaven grant they may continue 
 so) of the propositions of the Bishop of Ypres, 
 and of the formidable dispute to which the Bull 
 Unigenitus had given rise. What is a jansenist ? 
 thought they .... Doubtless a member of some 
 brotherhood, cherishing feelings of rivalry and 
 jealousy towards the Whites. 
 
 " A few half whispered remarks were inter- 
 changed, and then one of the deputation said : 
 
 " ' Oh then ! if Monsieur is a jansenist, he 
 of course cannot join us. . . .But your name. . 
 you can surely let us have your name ?' 
 
 " I trust gentlemen, replied I, that you are too 
 well aware of the duties of a jansenist to make 
 such a proposition seriously. 
 
 " Exclamations of regret were renewed ; and I, 
 being tolerably well practised in the art of getting 
 rid of tiresome visitors, provoked a retreat : I 
 followed the party through the suite of drawing- 
 rooms and down the staircase, and, being closely 
 pressed under the entrance vestibule, they were 
 completely routed. There I abandoned the pur- 
 suit of the enemy, who, however, rallied for the 
 purpose of calling the venerable prior, my father- 
 in-law, to account for the mistake into which he 
 had led them, whilst I returned to my library, 
 and prepared myself for a family storm." 
 
 K 2
 
 132 ANECDOTE OF PRINCESS BORGHESE. 
 
 " Thea you are a jansenist ?" said Prince 
 Cambaceres, who had. been not a little amused 
 at my story. 
 
 " Ah, Monseigneur ! Heaven forbid ! In 
 religion, as well as in politics, I am for unity. I 
 approve and condemn those things, which are 
 approved and condemned by the Church. I 
 admire the learning of Port-Royal, but I fear 
 the institution tends to republicanism " 
 
 " During the revolution, we saw dozens of 
 jansenists under the jacobin flags." 
 
 " Alas ! we did, Monseigneur. Submission to 
 authority is a doctrine which enables a man 
 to sleep soundly ; and he is not a bit the worse 
 for it." 
 
 ' ' The awkward dilemma in which your father- 
 in-law placed you, though with very good in- 
 tention, reminds me of an incident, somewhat 
 similar, which occurred to myself." 
 
 " Pray tell it me. Prince, said I ; it will be a 
 valuable contribution to those notes which you 
 and some of your friends have so kindly enabled 
 me to collect." 
 
 '*You shall have it most willingly. In the 
 anecdotes with which I have furnished you, 
 there are many piquant traits which I should 
 be very sorry to lose. I may not be inclined to 
 insert them in my Memoirs, and, if 1 do not, 
 commit them to paper they will be lost. I 
 therefore consign them to you, with permission
 
 AN AWKWARD RENCONTRE. 133 
 
 to make what use of them you please. And 
 now for my story. 
 
 " The Emperor had reached the zenith of his 
 prosperity. He was making kings with as much 
 ease as he was making marshals. Murat had 
 just been transferred from the grand Duchy 
 of Berg to the throne of Naples, when one 
 morning a carriage drove into my court-yard 
 and a lady alighted from it. Ah Misericorde ! 
 I exclaimed, it is her Imperial Highness the 
 Princess de Guastalla (Madame Borghese, the 
 beautiful Pauline Bonaparte). I was hastening 
 down stairs to receive her with all due ceremony, 
 when happening to pass a window which looked 
 out to the garden, I beheld advancing towards 
 the house. .. .who, but the Emperor himself. 
 He rang at a back door, usually appropriated 
 to the servants, and entered. He was I think 
 accompanied by Berthier. Here was a ren- 
 contre ! .... It was Scylla and Carybdis ! I 
 might perhaps have feigned not to recognise 
 the Emperor, but, with a , most imperative 
 gesture, he beckoned me to him. I there- 
 fore turned to the right about, and, leaving the 
 Princess to find her way to the drawing-room 
 unattended, I hurried to the Emperor. 
 
 " * Prince,' said he, as soon as I was in 
 his presence, ' I know that my sister wishes 
 to speak with yon. Shew me into an adjoining
 
 134 GERMANICUS AND NERO. 
 
 room, where I may hear her break her thunder- 
 bolts. Say what you can to appease her, but 
 do not pledge me for any thing.... Go to her 
 quickly .... She will never forgive you for keep- 
 ing her waiting.' 
 
 " I thought of the fatal position of Germa- 
 nicus with Nero in Racine's tragedy, in the 
 scene in w'hich Junie complains to the former 
 of the cruelty of the latter. I had prepared 
 myself for a most violent reception, but all my 
 expectations fell short of the reality. The Prin- 
 cess, as soon as she saw me, taxed me with my 
 want of respect, and complained of not having 
 found me waiting to receive her at the door of 
 my hotel. This first ebullition of ill humour, 
 being exhausted, I said : — 
 
 " Madam, if your Imperial Highness had 
 been pleased to give me notice of your intention 
 to confer on me this honour, 1 should un- 
 doubtedly have observed the due etiquette. But, 
 as I am not endowed with prescience, it was 
 only a few minutes ago that I learned, from my 
 servants, that the sister of our august monarch 
 was in my house." 
 
 "'His sister, Sir! rather say an unfortu- 
 nate, a forsaken, a miserable slave !' 
 
 " Is it possible, Madam, that, enjoying as you 
 do, the favour of His Imperial Majesty, you can 
 have any cause of complaint ?"
 
 THREATENED REVENGE. 135 
 
 " ' His favour ! What a mockery ! Does he 
 show his favour by degrading me ?' 
 
 '* No, Madam, but by having elevated you to 
 the dignity of an Imperial Princess, by having 
 conferred on you the Duchy of Guastalla, and 
 united you to a Roman Prince ! 
 
 " ' A briUiant marriage, truly ! . . . .An illus- 
 trious rank ! I have indeed reason to con- 
 gratulate myself when I see Caroline a Queen, 
 my sister-in-law a Queen, and then Josephine's 
 daughter a Queen, or on the point of becoming 
 one : and I suppose there is a kingdom in store 
 for Jerome's wife !.... Eliza, too, will be crowned 
 by and bye ; whilst 1 am nothing < . . . Hear me. 
 Prince Cambaceres .... Go immediately to Bona- 
 parte, and tell him, that if he does not raise me 
 to the dignity of Queen, I have a terrible ven 
 geance in reserve for him.' 
 
 " But which your sisterly affection will not 
 permit you to inflict. "_ 
 
 "'My affection!..! hate him.... he is a 
 monster.' 
 
 " Hush ! Princess ! I exclaimed with some 
 alarm. Know that in France walls have ears." 
 
 " ' I care not. ... I defy his pohcc .... and 
 I W'ould tell him all I have said to his face .... 
 I will seek refuge in England, or he shall perish 
 by my hand.' 
 
 "I became more and more alarmed, and 1
 
 13G PETITION FOR A CROWN. 
 
 was about to reply, when the Emperor saved me 
 the trouble. He opened the door, and presented 
 himself to the astonished Princess. 
 
 ' ' ' Maniac ! ' he exclaimed you shall not go to 
 England, but to Charenton.' 
 
 " ' Ah ! so you have followed me,' she 
 said. ' Then you thought I really intended to 
 throw myself into the Seine as I threatened ! 
 I have come here to request Prince Cambaceres 
 to intercede for me. . . . Now, my dear Napoleon, 
 I must have a crown .... I don't care where it is 
 .... Make me Queen of Portugal, — or Denmark, 
 what you will .... I would even reign in Switzer- 
 land or Corfu .... no matter where .... but a 
 crown I must have .... Am I to be the only one 
 of the family who does not wear one?.. . .Oh, 
 Napoleon ! your unkindness will kill me !' 
 
 " With these words, she burst into a flood of 
 tears .... The capricious beauty had changed 
 her imperious tone to one of supphcation, and 
 tender reproach. The Princess Pauline was cer- 
 tainly a most fascinating woman ; but, at that 
 moment, she appeared to me more charming 
 than ever. I could not wonder at the ascen- 
 dancy she gained over the Emperor. He was 
 at first in a violent rage ; but his anger was 
 gradually soothed, and, when Pauline stopped 
 short in her appeal to hirti and burst into tears, 
 he advanced to her, and said affectionately : —
 
 ADROIT SATIRE. 137 
 
 *' * My dear sister, why are you not satisfied ? 
 I am doing all I can for you .... Kingdoms can- 
 not be created at my will. Besides, your hus- 
 band is not a Frenchman.' 
 
 " ' Let me have a divorce, then.' 
 
 " * Heaven forbid !' 
 
 " ' I will be a Queen, or I will go to London.' 
 
 " ' You shall go to Vincennes.' 
 
 "'I defy you!.. I will strangle myself as 
 I enter.' 
 
 " I know not what circumstance was recalled 
 to Napoleon's mind by this threat ; but his 
 brow lowered, his eyes flashed, and he bit his 
 lips till he almost drew blood; and then, in a 
 voice faultering with emotion, he exclaimed : 
 
 " ' So much the better. Madam ! You will 
 rid me of a termagant, whom I find more dif- 
 ficult to govern than all Europe together !....! 
 see that you are only to be ruled by a rod 
 of iron. I therefore command you to go imme- 
 diately to Madame Mere, and there await the 
 orders which the Prince Arch-Chancellor shall 
 deliver to you from me.' 
 
 " ' Then wjll you make me a Queen?.. — I 
 must be crowned.' 
 
 " ' Really, Pauline, to hear you, one would 
 imagine that I had wronged you of your right 
 of succession to the late King our father.' 
 
 " I had never before known the Emperor to
 
 138 THE TERMAGANT APPEASED. 
 
 have recourse to this sort of pleasantry, but 
 I often afterwards heard him employ similar 
 language. On the occasion which I have first 
 been describing, this good-humoured touch of 
 satire, had an excellent effect. Pauhne blushed, 
 and a rapid glance at the past reminded her of her 
 humble origin, contrasted as it was with the high 
 rank to which her brother had raised her. A 
 sudden change was effected in her feelings. She 
 hung down her head, and was evidently mortified 
 and ashamed. Napoleon asked her whether 
 she had come alone. She named one of her 
 ladies, I do not recollect whom, and said she 
 "was waiting in another apartment. 
 
 " ' Let her come in,' said the Emperor. 
 
 '* I rang, — the order was given, and the lady 
 appeared. The Emperor directed her not to 
 lose sight of the Princess Borghese, and then 
 turning to me, he added : 
 
 " ' Let us retire to your cabinet.' 
 
 " I am at Your Majesty's disposal, replied I ; 
 but permit me first to observe the ceremony due 
 to the Princess. 
 
 " ' Well, well ! only be quick !' 
 
 " He proceeded to my cabinet, and I escorted 
 the Princess to her carriage. As soon as I had 
 got rid of her, 1 flew to wait on the Emperor. 
 I found him walking about the room with 
 hurried steps. 
 
 I
 
 BAPTISM OF THE SWORD. 139 
 
 " Well, Prince !' said he, as soon as I entered, 
 * this is one of the thousand disagreeable scenes 
 which tyrant, as they say I am, I am compelled 
 to endure. This morning Pauline came to me, 
 commenced an altercation, assumed an impe- 
 rative tone, and ended by threatening to drown 
 herself. Seeing the excited state she was in, 
 and knowing her violent temper, I became 
 alarmed. She left me ; I followed her, and, 
 as soon as she stepped into her carriage, I took 
 possession of the first cabriolet I saw standing 
 in the court-yard of the Tuileries. She drove 
 across the bridges ; I suspected she was coming 
 to you, — I entered by your back door and you 
 know the rest .... A crown for a Borghese ! . . . . 
 Such a proposition would excite an insurrection 
 in the army ! . . . . The Borghesi are of pure blood 
 royal, I knew ; but kings of my creation must 
 be of my own blood, and must have received 
 the baptism of the sword. However, I am anxi- 
 ous to soothe Pauline. Her husband shall be 
 made Governor of Piedmont. Tell her this from 
 me ; and, moreover, that I will give her a million 
 francs to clear off her debts and reset her dia- 
 monds. . . .A million francs ! . . . .What a sum ! 
 
 How much happiness it would diffuse if 
 
 distributed ! Ah Prince ! What a cross is a 
 numerous family to a man like me ! I have always 
 envied the happiness of Melchisedech, wha
 
 140 MADAME MERE. 
 
 never knew father, mother, brother, and, above 
 all, sisters !' 
 
 " The Emperor explained to me his intentions 
 and returned to the Tuileries. I proceeded 
 to the residence of Madame Mere. That vener- 
 able and dignified matron was depreciated only 
 by those who did not know her. I who knew 
 her well, am enabled to say that there never was 
 a better mother or a more estimable woman. 
 The last time I saw her, which was during 
 the events which terminated in the fall of her 
 son, she said to me : 
 
 " ' Whatever may be the issue of all this, I 
 shall not complain, provided Napoleon retires 
 without any compromise of honour. To fall is 
 nothing when w^e fall nobly ; but death is a 
 thousand times preferable to any mean con- 
 cession.' As she uttered these words, she 
 raised her fine classical head, and looked like 
 the bust of Agrippina. 
 
 " She had heard of the misunderstanding be- 
 tween the Emperor and the Princess. When- 
 ever any of her children rebelled against Napo- 
 leon, she always reproved them, saying : ' My 
 husband transmitted his power to Napoleon. 
 You must all obey him, for he is your father.' 
 On this principle, she had already remonstrated 
 with her beautiful and refractory daughter, Pau- 
 line. Madame Mere received me with all the
 
 MADAME MERE. 141 
 
 c6urtly ceremony which her lady of honour, 
 the Countess de Fontanges, knew so well how to 
 maintain. I was received by the ci-devant Duke 
 de Brissac, then a Count, a senator, and Madame 
 Letitia's gentlemen in waiting." 
 
 " ' I have spoken to the Princess,' said Madame 
 Letitia, as soon as I was ushered into her pre- 
 sence, ' and she is convinced of her mistake.' I 
 repeated the Emperor's words. When Madame 
 Borghese heard them, she frowned most su- 
 perbly, and, foreseeing, that some warm words 
 would probably ensue between the mother and 
 daughter, I beat a retreat, and hurried back 
 to the Tuileries to inform the Emperor that 
 I had obeyed his orders. 
 
 " ' Is she grateful ?' he inquired. I told him 
 candidly how his message had been received. 
 
 " ' Ah !' said the Emperor, ' she will not easily 
 give up her point. I well know her resolute 
 disjDOsition. She has set her heart on a crown ; 
 but she shall never have one.' " 
 
 There was always some curious anecdote to 
 be gathered from the conversation of Prince 
 Cambac^r^s. In one of my evening visits to 
 him, he related the following story : 
 
 " One day when the Emperor had detained me 
 longer than usual, the Minister of the Police 
 (the Duke of Otranto) sent to request an imme- 
 diate audience.
 
 142 fouch6 and napoleon. 
 
 " * What can he want,' said the Emperor. 
 ' Stay, Prince Cambacer^s, I like to have a wit- 
 ness when he is with me.' (The Emperor w^as 
 then beginning to be distrustful of him.) Fouche 
 entered, and began to converse about some ge- 
 neral topics relating to the police, and then 
 he proceeded as follows : 
 
 " ' A very singular circumstance has taken 
 place at the Hotel Pepin, Rue Saint-Eloi. About 
 twelve days ago, a man named Rafin took up 
 his abode there ; owing to some suspicious cir- 
 cumstances which w^ere communicated to the 
 police, he has been made the object of special 
 surveillance. He is w^ell dressed, and good 
 looking, except that there is a certain expres- 
 sion of fierceness in his countenance. In the 
 day time, he visits several families in Paris, and, 
 in the evening, he leaves his hotel at eleven 
 o'clock precisely ; sometimes he goes on foot, at 
 other times in a fiacre ; but he always proceeds 
 to the same place, namely, the burial ground of 
 Pere-Lachaise, and, as soon as he arrives there, 
 my agents lose sight of him. At four o'clock 
 in the morning, he is again seen in the vicinity 
 of the burial ground. He then resumes his 
 way to the Hotel Pepin, and gets there before 
 day light. These circumstances regularly re- 
 curring night after night, excited the astonish- 
 ment of my people. Rafin is distinctly kept in
 
 A MYSTERY. 143 
 
 view, and is dogged step by step from the mo- 
 ment of his leaving the hotel, until he arrives 
 near Pere-Lachaise. There he is always lost 
 sight of. A party of police agents have been 
 stationed in the interior of the burial place ; 
 but nothing has been discovered.' 
 
 '* ' Duke of Otranto,' exclaimed the Emperor, 
 * this is a strange phantasmagorical story. . . .Do 
 you suspect that Rafin is a vampire ?' 
 
 " ' That would be a rarity in France, Sire, in 
 the nineteenth century.' 
 
 " ' What do you think he is, then ?' 
 
 " ' I cannot guess.' 
 
 " ' Will you have him arrested V 
 
 " ' He has committed no offence, and therefore 
 I hesitated.' 
 
 " ' You are right. It is sufficiently painful to 
 be compelled to fill our state prisons with ma- 
 niacs, who take pleasure in running headlong 
 to their own ruin. I do not approve of pre- 
 ventive measures. They are always tyrannical. 
 With such a system, where can one stop.... But 
 this is a very mysterious gentleman. Have his 
 papers been examined during his absence ?' 
 
 " ' Yes, Sire, and nothing suspicious has been 
 found.' 
 
 " ' Is his passport correct ?' 
 
 " ' The description of his person is not pre- 
 cisely accurate. There is even some appearance
 
 144 POLICE VIGILANCE BAFFLED. 
 
 of erasure and alteration of the writing in some 
 parts. We know not what to make of this 
 man;— but we shall keep a vigilant eye upon 
 him.' 
 
 ' ' I was much surprised at this curious dis- 
 closure," continued Prince Cambaceres, " and 
 some time afterwards, when Fouche happened to 
 call on me, I thought of Rafin, and I inquired 
 whether the mystery had ever been cleared up. 
 
 " ' Prince,' said he, 'I could almost be tempted 
 to believe that we are not in the nineteenth cen- 
 tury ; but in the ninth, the tenth, the eleventh 
 or even earlier .... There are some extraordinary 
 impositions practised in this world.' 
 
 " What have you discovered ? 
 
 " ' I will tell you. My brigade being not a Uttle 
 mortified by the way in which Rafin constantly 
 eluded their vigilance, determined to take a 
 decisive step : and, accordingly, one night they 
 arrested him when within a few yards of Pdre 
 Lachaise. At on€ blow he knocked down two 
 of the police ofiicers, who alleged that they had 
 not been struck by a man's arm but by a bar of 
 iron. The others surrounded and arrested Rafin. 
 He was perfectly calm, and he showed by the 
 light of one of the street lamps, the papers 
 which he carried about with him ; these papers 
 consisted of a map of Paris, a passport, a cer- 
 tificate of his birth, and, in short, every thing
 
 THE POLICE BAFFLED. 145 
 
 that was requisite to entitle him to the privilege 
 of nocturnal perambulation in our good city. As it 
 was wished to take him by surprise, the police 
 agents affected to be satisfied. He gave them 
 an a boire in payment of the cudgelling he had 
 inflicted, and all separated amicably. Some of 
 the police officers, however, turned and followed 
 Rafin, and, after watching him for some distance, 
 they lost sight of him, as usual. 
 
 " 'At four o'clock one of the men, who were 
 still on the watch, gave a signal to his comrades 
 that he saw Rafin, and all hastened to his as- 
 sistance. In order to put him off his guard, 
 a peace officer was procured, and he arrested 
 all the persons who happened to be passing by, 
 (three or four in nuaiber) and Rafin among the 
 rest. They were all searched. In Rafin's pockets 
 were found the same papers, which he produced 
 a short time before, and nothing to which sus- 
 picion could attach. The men who searched Rafin, 
 declared that they were nearly suffocated by the 
 horrible odour which issued from every part of his 
 body. 
 
 " ' Two days elapsed ; and Rafin continued to go 
 out every day. Among the persons he visited, 
 there was a young girl who followed the business 
 of a milliner. Inquiries were made about her, 
 and it was ascertained, that though she had pre- 
 viously been a fresh, healthy, lively girl, she 
 had, since Rafin had known her, become pale 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 146 INEXPLICABLE WOUNDS. 
 
 and sickly. At another of his visiting places, 
 a widow who had been remarkably stout and 
 ruddy, suddenly became pale and emaciated. On 
 the third day, a young man about four and twenty 
 called at the Hotel Pepin. He inquired for Rafin, 
 and being informed, by the porter, that he was out, 
 he appeared much vexed. He sat down and 
 waited for him, and, in about an hour, Rafin re- 
 turned home. The young man, as soon as he per- 
 ceived him, sprang upon him and seized him by 
 the collar. The prodigious strength of the noc- 
 turnal adventurer w^as overpowered by the fury of 
 his assailant, who called him an assassin and a 
 monster. Feeling himself unable to maintain the 
 struggle, and that his strength was failing him, 
 he drew his knife from his pocket, and stabbed 
 Rafin in the side. It was distinctly seen that he 
 gave him only one stab ; four witnesses, who w^ere 
 present, bore testimony to this fact. 
 
 " ' Rafin groaned, relinquished his hold of his 
 adversary, and fell dead. The young man fled, 
 leaving his knife in Rafin's body. No one pur- 
 sued him, owing to the consternation w4iich the 
 incident excited. A surgeon was sent for. Rafin 
 w^as undressed, and it w'as discovered that he had 
 six bleeding wounds, two in the throat, two in 
 the right side, one in the abdomen, and one in the 
 thigh. All present w^ere confounded. Their tes- 
 timony concurred unanimously. The young man 
 seized Rafin, and, after a struggle with him, drew 
 
 .i
 
 SUSPECTED VAMPIRE. 147 
 
 out his knife. He gave him only one stab, and 
 left the knife sticking in the wound. But, instead 
 of one wound, there were six ; and, on examina- 
 tion, the knife was found to correspond with only- 
 one of the wounds, — that in the side ; the rest 
 appeared to have been inflicted by poignards, swords, 
 stilettos, or some other sharp weapon, in no way 
 corresponding with the knife, which the surgeon 
 extracted from the body of Rafin, and examined 
 in the presence of the witnesses. 
 
 " * His apartments were searched, but nothing 
 was found except his clothes, and the papers I have 
 already mentioned : neither money nor property 
 of any description. The passports described him 
 as a citizen of Strasburgh, but, beyond this, there 
 was no clue to discovery. The local authorities 
 could furnish no information, owing to the re- 
 moval of the registers of Strasburgh during the 
 revolution. Search was made for the young man 
 who had stabbed Rafin. He was speedily found. 
 The account he gave was as follows : — He was 
 paying his addresses to a young female, Avhen 
 Rafin became his rival, and was preferred to liim. 
 The girl soon fell into ill health. She complained 
 of frightful nightmares, and affirmed that her blood 
 was nightly sucked by a being of hideous ai)pear- 
 ance, but who nevertheless bore a resemblance to 
 Rafin, She made this disclosure to the sister of 
 her first lover, who became alarmed at the circum- 
 stance. The young man had that morning seen 
 
 L 2
 
 148 THE DEAD ALIVE. 
 
 the object of his affection breathe her last ; and 
 his feelings being powerfully excited, he flew to 
 challenge Rafin. The latter seized him by the 
 throat, and, finding himself nearly choaked, he 
 drew out his knife, not with the design of killing 
 him, but of merely disengaging himself from his 
 grasp. 
 
 " ' The affair was laid before me,' pursued Fouche. 
 ' I was, of course, much astonished, and was puzzling 
 myself to unravel the mystery, when another inci- 
 dent occurred more extraordinary than all the rest. 
 The body of Rafin was deposited in an apartment 
 on the ground floor of the Hotel Pepin, and was to 
 be interred early on the following morning. At 
 the hour appointed for proceeding to the burial- 
 place, what was the astonishment of the persons 
 employed to convey the corpse, to discover on 
 entering the room, that it was gone ! — New ru- 
 mours were afloat. It was by some suspected that 
 body-snatchers had obtained entrance to the room. 
 Active investigations were set on foot; but no 
 discovery was made. About six weeks elapsed ; 
 and you may easily conceive the horror of the 
 porter of the Hotel Pepin, and of the whole neigh- 
 bourhood, when one day Rafin presented himself 
 and coolly asked for the key of his apartment 
 to procure his clothes. An alarm was raised ; he 
 was secured, and questioned ; and he made the 
 following statement — 
 
 " ' Some young medical students stole his body
 
 FOUCHE'S EXPERIMENT. 149 
 
 for the purpose of dissection. When about to 
 commence their operation, the supposed corpse 
 manifested some signs of life. They applied the 
 proper remedies, and finally succeeded in restoring 
 existence. But, as they had been guilty of the offence 
 of abstracting the body, he (Rafin) had taken 
 an oath not to betray them, and he added, that he 
 would submit to every possible torture rather than 
 be ungrateful to those who had rescued him from 
 the grave. All this was plausible and possible 
 enough ; and the story was believed by every one, 
 except myself. 
 
 " ' I gave orders to have Rafin arrested, and he 
 was placed in confinement. I paid him a visit. 
 He was strongly bound, and, in spite of his cries, 
 supplications and resistance, I resolutely plunged 
 into his flesh a surgical instrument which, without 
 producing any injury, would cause an effusion 
 of blood. When he perceived my object, he 
 became furiously irritated, and made inconceivable 
 efforts to attack me. He threatened me with his 
 future revenge ; but, heedless of his violence, I 
 thrust the instrument into him. No sooner did 
 the first drop of blood appear, than the six old 
 wounds opened afresh. All efforts to stop the 
 bleeding proved fruitless — and Rafin died. 
 
 " 'Eleven persons,' continued Fouche, 'were 
 present at the scene I have just described. Our 
 amazement was inconceivable. We are in tlie 
 nineteenth century, and we beheld before us a vam-
 
 150 SUSPECTED POLICE TRICK. 
 
 pire, a blood-sucker. 1 had expressly summoned 
 INIM. Cuvicr, Fourcroy, Cadet and Portal. They 
 witnessed the fact, and they were astounded ! . . . . 
 I must acknowledge, however, that they after- 
 wards declared themselves inclined to regard the 
 affair as a police trick, .... a new mode of getting 
 rid of a dangerous individual. They professed 
 their faith in poison, but not in witchcraft, and 
 the silence they have observed, must be attri- 
 buted less to their promise of secrecy than to the 
 result of a scene, of which they would fain not 
 have been spectators. As to myself, I have sifted 
 the matter deeply, and I am perplexed to the last 
 degree. I cannot admit the reality of vampires ; 
 yet it is certain that I witnessed the facts I have 
 stated. The corpse was rolled in a great number 
 of cloth wrappers, and put into an iron coffin, 
 the head, hands and feet being previously cut off. 
 The whole was then buried. At the expiration 
 of a year, I ordered the coffin to be taken out 
 of the grave. The different parts were all found 
 in an advanced stage of decomposition, but none 
 were wanting ; and Rafin has not returned a 
 second time to demand the key of his apartment. 
 I may add, that the widow whom I have already 
 mentioned, as one of the females to whom Rafin 
 professed to be paying his addresses, died a few 
 days alter him, almost wasted to a skeleton.' 
 
 " This story," pursued Prince Cambaceres, 
 " Fouche himself related to me. I listened to it
 
 MM. CUVIER, FOURCROY AND PORTAL. 151 
 
 with as much faith as I should be inclined to attach 
 to any other wild, incredible tale. It happened 
 that on the evening of the day on which Fouche 
 had related the romance, I was visited by MM. 
 Cuvier, Fourcroy and Portal. I was tempted to 
 allude to the story of the Vampire, and I asked 
 their opinion of the case. These gentlemen, as 
 the Duke of Otranto had informed me, persisted in 
 regarding Rafin's mysterious death as one of the 
 thousand artifices to which the police were then 
 accustomed to resort, in cases of difficulty. Never- 
 theless, they all acknowledged that the mere effect 
 of the incision of the lancet, appeared (I underline 
 the word, on account of the emphasis with which 
 it was pronounced) to cause the re-opening of 
 the six other wounds previously closed. As to 
 the other circumstances of the case, they would 
 vouch for none, and conjured me not to be the 
 means of promulgating reports which would be 
 offensive to them. Two of these distinguished 
 men are dead, and, as the others have passed 
 through a revolution, I imagine it matters but 
 little whether or not their names are mentioned in 
 connexion with this mystification." 
 
 I could clearly perceive that Prince Cambaccr^s 
 himself was by no means inclined to place re- 
 liance in the sincerity of the Duke of Otranto, and 
 that he looked upon the presumed Vampire, as 
 something different from a being subsisting on 
 human blood.
 
 152 THE GARRIGGIA FAMILY. 
 
 Such extraordinary disappearances are, however, 
 less rare than is generally supposed. I recollect 
 having heard Baron Caffarelli, the Prefect of Cal- 
 vados, relate the following story : 
 
 " About the close of the reign of Louis XV, 
 there lived in the little town of Revel, situated at 
 the foot of the Black Mountain an ancient family 
 named Garriggia, w^ell know^nin Toulouse. At the 
 time I allude to (1760), the family consisted of three 
 persons : the father, the uncle who was a Knight 
 of Malta, and the only son, a young gentleman 
 of the most promising qualities, w^ho held the 
 rank of Captain at the age of twenty-two, and who 
 had every prospect of making rapid advancement 
 in the army. This young man's name was Eugene. 
 His father and uncle were exceedingly attached to 
 him, especially the latter ; and, anxious to see 
 an heir to the family, he was endeavouring to 
 select a suitable wife for his nephew, from among 
 the noble families of the neighbourhood. 
 
 "But Eugene had not yet bestowed a thought 
 on marriage, and, during the intervals in which his 
 military duties did not engross his time, he devoted 
 himself exclusively to the pleasures of the chase. 
 The ladies, with whom his handsome person and 
 elegant manners, joined to his advantages of birth 
 and fortune, rendered him an especial favourite, 
 were astonished at his indifference- The secret 
 was, that his heart w^as already engaged. On one 
 of his hunting excursions in tlie forest of Cailhavel,
 
 A ROMANCE OF TOULOUSE. 153 
 
 he espied a neat little cottage situated on the bank 
 of a rivulet. Being overpowered by the effects of 
 thirst and fatigue, he was induced to knock at the 
 door. It was opened by a young female of sur- 
 passing beauty. Her dress was simple, even more so 
 than that of the village girls of the neighbourhood ; 
 but her language and manners were, on the other 
 hand, refined and elegant, and fa*' above her appa- 
 rent station. She immediately spread a table, and 
 placed before her guest, a true huntsman's repast, 
 consisting of milk, brown bread, chestnuts and 
 eggs. As she declined receiving any remune- 
 ration. Captain Garriggia returned a few days 
 afterwards and presented to her a little trinket 
 which he had purchased at Revel. The acquaint- 
 ance having been thus commenced, Eugene fre- 
 quently went to hunt in the forest of Cailhavel. 
 
 " One evening, his uncle (the Knight as he used 
 to be styled) said to him : ' Well Eugene, you 
 must get married.' 
 
 *' * I will think about it, uncle.' 
 
 " ' I have already thought about it for you.' 
 
 " * Are you going to select a wife for me ?' 
 
 " ' I have already found one.' 
 
 *' ' Found a wife for me !' 
 
 " ' Yes, for whom else should I seek one ?' 
 
 " ' But a wife should please her husband.' 
 
 " ' Certainly.' 
 
 "• ' Will the lady you have chosen, please me?'
 
 154 THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 
 
 " * Yoli must be very hard to please if she does 
 not. She is one of the Rigaud family.' 
 
 " ' That is very well, but still—' 
 
 *' * She is seventeen, very handsome and very 
 accomplished.' 
 
 " ' My dear uncle, I am not inclined to marry.' 
 
 ** ' My dear nephew, I say you shall marry the 
 lady I have fixed upon.' 
 
 ** Whereupon, an argument arose, and Eugene 
 acquainted the Knight with his passion for the 
 beauty of the forest. 
 
 " ' But you can never think of marrying her!' 
 exclaimed the uncle. 
 
 " ' Indeed I do,' replied Eugene, 
 
 " ' No.' 
 
 " ' Yes.' 
 
 " Another dispute ensued in which the father 
 maintained a share. The young man resolutely 
 adhered to his project. 
 
 " Inquiries were set on foot respecting the lady 
 of the forest. No one knew anything of her. 
 She seemed to have fallen from the clouds. She 
 had neither rank, name, nor fortune. A fine mar- 
 riage for Eugene Garriggia ! The Knight repaired 
 to the cottage in the forest of Cailhavel and 
 explained to its fair occupant the obstacles which 
 stood in the way of her projected marriage. 
 
 " * Love will smooth away all obstacles,' she 
 replied.
 
 EUGENE GARRIGGIA. 155 
 
 " ' But certain qualifications are requisite for 
 forming an alliance with a noble family.' 
 
 " ' Who informed you that I am not of noble 
 birth ?' 
 
 " ' Where are your proofs V 
 " ' I will produce them only to Eugene.' 
 " The Knight returned home, not much satis- 
 fied at the result of his errand. An angry discus- 
 sion arose between Eugene and his uncle. The 
 former reproached the latter for his tyranny and 
 said : ' You will repent of this when I am no 
 more.' 
 
 " Having uttered these words, he retired to his 
 chamber and closed the door. The apartment 
 was on the first floor, and had only one door, 
 which communicated with the drawing-room. 
 About an hour after Eugene had withdrawn, 
 dinner was announced. The family assembled at 
 table. Eugene did not appear. His father went 
 to the door of his room, and called him, but 
 received no answer. He opened the door, entered, 
 and perceiving that his son was not in the room, he 
 advanced mechanically to the window. I say me- 
 chanically, because he knew it to be fastened 
 up with iron rails. He looked under the bed, 
 in the closets, and in a cabinet which stood in one 
 corner of the room, and which was in the form of 
 a feudal tower. He then went down stairs and ac- 
 quainted his brother with the mysterious disap- 
 pearance of his son.
 
 156 EXTRAORDINARY DISAPPEARANCE. 
 
 '* ' But,' said the Knight, * neither you nor I 
 quitted the drawing-room, and he could not have 
 left his room without passing through it.' 
 
 " The utmost consternation prevailed. The 
 servants and neighbours assembled ; the house was 
 searched from the garret to the cellar. The wells 
 and ponds were dragged : there was no river in 
 the neighbourhood. The Knight, accompanied by- 
 some friends, proceeded to the forest of Cailhavel ; 
 the cottage w^as abandoned, and the female who 
 inhabited it, had likewise disappeared. 
 
 " From that day, all trace of Captain Garriggia 
 was lost. No tidings of him were ever after ob- 
 tained ; and his mysterious disappearance could 
 never be explained in any way consistently with 
 the principles of reason. At the time of the 
 Revolution, some collateral relations were prepar- 
 ing to establish legal proof of the disappearance of 
 the direct heir of the illustrious family of Gar- 
 riggia." 
 
 The extraordinary disappearance of an English- 
 man, near Hamburgh, excited a good deal of 
 attention at the time of its occurrence. This gen- 
 tleman was travelling in company with a friend. 
 The horses were harnessed and the postillion had 
 mounted, when the Englishman observed to his 
 companion, that he would be with him in a few 
 moments. He was seen to proceed to the distance 
 of about eight paces from the spot W'here the 
 post-chaise stood, and he turned the angle of a wall
 
 POLICE ANECDOTES. 157 
 
 which was four feet high at most. From that 
 moment, the EngUshman became invisible, and 
 every effort to discover him proved ineffectual. 
 Some days after he had disappeared, his waistcoat 
 was found hanging on a bush, and it was proved, 
 beyond a doubt, that it must have been placed 
 there only a few hours before it was found, several 
 persons having carefully searched the spot within 
 that interval. 
 
 There are on record many extraordinary stories 
 of the same kind. A curious collection might 
 be formed of all the anecdotes which have come to 
 the knowledge of the Police Ministers and their 
 agents. We were conversing on this subject one 
 evening at the Arch-Chancellor's ; it was during the 
 Empire, and M. Pasquier was Prefect of Police at the 
 time. M. Pasquier observed that, besides street 
 beggars and other vagabonds, there were in Paris 
 thirty thousand individuals, male and female, who 
 rose every morning, without knowing how they 
 were to live out the day. Among the number, he 
 classed the chevaliers d'industrie, who speculated on 
 public credulity in a thousand various ways, and 
 always successfully : employing artifices with which 
 they duped persons, apparently not less cunning 
 than themselves. But there is a set of avaricious 
 people who are easily duped : the allurements of 
 gain blind them and lull their suspicions. 
 
 M. Pasquier related the two following anec-
 
 t 
 
 158 THE DIAMOND BUCKLES. 
 
 dotes : — the one occurred previously to our po- 
 litical troubles, the other more recently. 
 
 " A rich but niggardly old banker had a pair 
 of shoe-buckles worth a thousand louis. He fre- 
 quently paid an economical visit to the pit of 
 the opera, and, having selected a snug corner, 
 he would seat himself with his back against the 
 wall, to enjoy the master pieces of Gluck and 
 Sacchini. One evening, during the performance 
 of CEdipe a Colonne, an elegantly dressed young 
 man seated himself next to the banker, and entered 
 into conversation with him. He suddenly stooped 
 down, rested his foot on the seat before him, 
 took the gold buckles from his shoes, and, having 
 rolled them in a piece of paper, put them into 
 his pocket. Observing that these movements 
 excited some manifestation of surprise on the part 
 of his neighbour, he said : 
 
 " ' You are no doubt astonished to see me take 
 out my buckles. Sir, but you would do the same 
 if you w^ere forced to w'ear gold ones, in conse- 
 quence of having been robbed as I have, of a pair 
 of diamond buckles, worth six thousand livres.' 
 
 ''■ ' How Sir ! robbed do you say, of a pair of 
 diamond buckles . .Where ?' 
 
 " * Here, Sir, at the opera. Whilst all my senses 
 were entranced by the strains of Gluck's celestial 
 music, some theives came and seated themselves 
 near me for the purpose of concealing one of their
 
 A PRUDENT PRECAUTION. 159 
 
 companions, who stooped down and putting his 
 hand under the seat, dexterously unfastened my 
 buckles. Did you ever hear of such an artfully con- 
 trived theft V 
 
 " ' Bless me, Sir, you alarm me, . . your buckles 
 were worth six thousand livres. I would not 
 give this pair, which I am wearing, for twenty-four 
 thousand livres. You may therefore easily imagine 
 that I should be very sorry to lose them. I had bet- 
 ter take your precaution, and then I shall feel easy. 
 
 " The w^orthy banker removed his splendid 
 buckles from their place of safety, wrapped them 
 in his handkerchief, and deposited them in his 
 pocket. In ten minutes after, they again shifted 
 their places, and the banker's new acquaintance, 
 whose companions were in possession of the booty, 
 politely wished him a good evening. The rage 
 and mortification of the unfortunate dupe may be 
 easily conceived. He never again set eyes on his 
 diamond buckles ; and his only compensation, for 
 the loss of them, w-as a dearly bought lesson of 
 experience." 
 
 The other anecdote related by M. Pasquier, is 
 as follows. 
 
 " A jeweller of Paris one day saw a splendid 
 equipage drive up to his door, and a tall important 
 looking gentleman alighted from it. He wanted 
 a lady's set of diamond ornaments, a complete 
 wedding imrure. The price was fixed at two 
 hundred thousand francs. Several designs were
 
 IGO THE WEDDING PRESENT. 
 
 shewn to him. He made choice of one, said he 
 could grant but Uttle time for executing the order, 
 and insisted on leaving with the jeweller a deposit 
 of four thousand francs in billets de banque. He 
 also selected a ring, w^orth a hundred and twenty 
 francs, and ordered it to be sent home next day : 
 and five days after the w^hole set of diamonds was 
 to be completed. Accordingly, on the following 
 day, a confidential messenger from the jeweller's 
 
 repaired to the Hotel D in the Rue dela Paix, 
 
 and inquired for Prince Gargarin. He w^as shewn 
 into an apartment on the first story. Five or 
 six lackeys were in the antichamber. The prince 
 took the ring, paid for it, and gave a present of ten 
 francs to the messenger, who joyfully returned 
 home, and congratulated his master on having so 
 wealthy and liberal a customer. 
 
 " The jew^eller, with the utmost punctuality,^ 
 carried home the diamonds on the day appointed. 
 The prince was in his study, sitting before his 
 cylindrical secretaire which was open. The jeweller 
 handed the casket to him, and his highness mi- 
 nutely inspected the jewels ; suddenly one of the 
 valets entered the room and announced " Prince 
 Dolgorouki" — 
 
 " 'Ah ! my brother-in-law, exclaimed his high- 
 ness. ' I do not wish him to see the present 
 which I destine for his sister. Request him to 
 stay in the drawing room, and I will come to him 
 immediately.' He touched the table, the cylinder
 
 THE STOLEN DIAMONDS. 161 
 
 moved and the secretaire closed ; the diamonds 
 were within it ; but on the table there lay an open 
 box filled with leather bags ; and numerous rou- 
 leaux of louis were huddled together in confusion. 
 The jeweller had observed all this treasure on his 
 first arrival : but his attention was particularly 
 attracted by a large Russia leather portfoUo, well 
 lined with billets de banque, the edges of which were 
 visible. 
 
 " His highness left the room, saying he would 
 return very shortly. The jeweller begged he 
 would not hurry himself. About twenty minutes 
 elapsed, and a sort of vague apprehension began 
 to assail the jeweller. At length, the door opened. 
 Oh ! here is his highness thought he. But no, it 
 was the master of the hotel, who, stepping up to 
 the jeweller, said : — 
 
 " Are you waiting for anybody, Sir?" 
 " ' I am waiting for the return of Prince Gar- 
 garin, to whom I have just sold a set of diamonds 
 for two hundred thousand francs . . . Are you his 
 secretary ?' 
 
 " I am his dupe, and so I presume you are!" 
 " ' What do you mean ? His dupe ! impossible ! 
 The jewels are shut up in that secretaire. Besides, 
 look at all this money.' - 
 
 " He seized one of the leather bags, and, opening 
 it, discovered, to his horror, that it was filled with 
 nails : the rouleaux contained nothing, and the port- 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 162 THE PRETENDED PRINCE GARGARIN. 
 
 folio, scraps of waste paper. .However, the jeweller 
 consoled himself— the diamonds were still safe. A 
 locksmith was sent for ; the secretaire was opened, 
 and oh horror ! it was empty. It stood on one side 
 of the room, against a wall in which a hole had been 
 made, and, there being a corresponding hole in the 
 back of the secretaire, the jewels had, with perfect 
 ease been conveyed into the adjoining apart- 
 ment. 
 
 " The despair of the unfortunate jeweller may be 
 easily conceived. The master of the hotel, too, 
 who had let his apartments to the pretended Prince 
 Gargarin, had been extensively swindled. The 
 servants all belonged to the hotel, with the excep- 
 tion of the valet de chambre, who was the companion 
 and confederate of the prince. 
 
 " It was ascertained that they had decamped in a 
 coach from the door of the hotel. Every exertion 
 was made to trace them out, but several years 
 elapsed before they were discovered. 
 
 *' The jeweller, who was nearly ruined by this 
 robbery, removed to another quarter of Paris, and 
 established himself under a new name. One day 
 
 a messenger called on him from M. T a 
 
 gentleman holding an official situation who was 
 very ill and wished to purchase some rings. The 
 poor jeweller had naturally become suspicious ever 
 since his fatal adventure wdth Prince Gargarin ; 
 and, instead of sending his shopman, he took the 
 rings himself. He was shewn into a bed chamber
 
 THE jeweller's DISCOVERY. 163 
 
 which was onl}^ partially lighted : owing to the 
 situation of the windows, the room was all in shade, 
 except that part where the bed stood. What was 
 the surprise of the jeweller when he discovered in 
 
 the invalid M. T ,the swindler who had some 
 
 years previously defrauded him in the assumed 
 character of the Russian Prince Gargarin ! For a 
 few moments, he was struck dumb with amazement. 
 However, he recovered himself, and, deeming it 
 prudent not to betray the discovery he had made, 
 he displayed his rings ; several were selected, and 
 their price amounted to about six thousand 
 francs. 
 
 " ' It is a large sum of money for a poor ruined 
 
 man,' said M. T . ' I have not ready cash 
 
 sufficient to settle the whole amount, and I shall 
 feel obliged if you will take in payment this 
 curious old snuffbox, which is of great value.' 
 
 " He asked for his dressing case, and, opening it, 
 took out an octagon-shaped china snuff box, 
 ornamented with ten miniatures by Clinchsteil, set 
 in gold and rubies. It was perfectly unique, and 
 of inestimable value. On beholding it, the jeweller 
 well nigh betrayed himself. The snuff-box which 
 
 M. T presented to him, was one which had 
 
 been stolen from him a few days before the robbery 
 of his diamonds. The box was too remarkable to 
 admit of the possibility of mistake. Besides, it had 
 a secret spring by means of which all the minia- 
 
 M 2
 
 164 CURIOUS SNUFF-BOX. 
 
 tures could be taken out of their settings, and on 
 the reverses were painted similar subjects, but 
 treated in the style of indelicacy peculiar to the 
 age of Louis XV. This circumstance was important 
 in proof of his claim to the possession of the box. 
 
 When M. T asked him to set a value on it, 
 
 he said without hesitation : — 
 
 " ' I consider it worth more than fifty thousand 
 francs.' 
 
 " * Fifty thousand francs !' exclaimed M. T 
 
 ' I thought it valuable, .but this far exceeds my es- 
 timation of it.' 
 
 " ' Sir,' resumed the jeweller, ' I will not re- 
 tract what I have said. I am an expert dealer, 
 and to me it may possibly be worth far more than 
 the sum I have fixed. I will make this proposition 
 to you ; you shall take the rings you have selected, 
 and you shall put the box under an envelope 
 stating it to be my property ; and, if it does not 
 bring more than fifty thousand francs, you shall 
 have my rings for nothing.' 
 
 " M. T was completely blinded by this 
 
 deep laid scheme. He was a good connoisseur of 
 objects of virtu, and he was not a little gratified to 
 find his box so much overvalued, and to be ena- 
 bled to obtain the rings without opening his purse. 
 The most exaggerated valuation of the snuff-box 
 would scarcely have exceeded seven or eight thou- 
 sand francs. He sent for two of his neighbours,
 
 THE BITER BIT. 165 
 
 one of whom was a notary, and the matter was 
 arranged conformably with the jeweller's proposi- 
 tion. This being done, the invalid said : — 
 
 " ' Who will fix the price of the box ?' 
 
 " ' You, Sir,' coolly replied the jeweller. 
 
 " ' Me ? you are jesting.' 
 
 " ' I assure you. Sir, I am quite serious . . I would 
 willingly lay a good wager that you will value 
 the box at five hundred thousand francs.' 
 
 " M. T directed at the two witnesses a 
 
 look which seemed to say, the man is mad ; but 
 the jeweller added : — 
 
 " ' You will value it at that price, I am certain 
 you will. But first of all I have to acquaint you 
 with a circumstance connected with this box, 
 which will enable you to perceive its real value.' 
 
 *' M. T full of curiosity and anxiety, 
 
 consented to hear the jeweller's communication in 
 private. The two neighbours, taking the box with 
 them, adjourned to the drawing room and M. T — • 
 and the jeweller being left alone, the latter said : — 
 
 " ' Sir, it is now about sixteen years ago since 
 that snuff-box was stolen from me, and a short 
 time after you robbed me of fifty thousand crowns 
 worth of diamonds, under the assumed name of 
 Prince Gargarin. I have now discovered you. 
 My evidence relative to the robbery is on record. 
 You have declared the snuff'-box to be yours, and 
 I can prove having purchased it at a pubHc sale. 
 I know a secret which will place the truth of my
 
 166 THE THEFT COMPROMISED. 
 
 assertion beyond a doubt. Now, Sir, tell me 
 whether you are inclined to defend yourself in 
 the criminal suit which I intend forthwith to insti- 
 tute against you.' 
 
 " Every word uttered by the jeweller fell like a 
 thunderbolt on the ears of M. T . Over- 
 whelmed with the consciousness of his guilt, his 
 imagination pictured all the horrors of impri- 
 sonment, trial, sentence, and the scaffold. He 
 reflected, and the jeweller said : — 
 
 " 'Sir, I give you five minutes to form your 
 determination.' 
 
 " At the expiration of that interval, M. T 
 
 in a faltering voice directed the jeweller to open a 
 drawer in which he would find billets de banque for 
 three hundred thousand francs, and he signed a 
 bond for two hundred thousand francs, payable at 
 his banker's that same day. This being done, the 
 jewxller called in the witnesses. 
 
 '' ' Gentlemen, said he, ' I have at length con- 
 vinced M. T of the real value of the snuff- 
 box. You see the price at which he has purchased 
 it back from me.' 
 
 " ' I have given five hundred thousand francs,* 
 said M. T . 
 
 " ' Here is your box !' said the jeweller, restoring 
 it, and I will let you have the rings into the bar- 
 gain.' 
 
 " The notary who was no less amazed than the 
 other witness, said :— 
 
 I 
 
 J
 
 ANECDOTE OF ROBESPIERRE. 167 
 
 " * There is some m^'stery in all this.' 
 
 " ' Probably there is,' replied the jeweller, ' M. 
 
 T may explain it if he pleases ; for my 
 
 part, I promise him eternal secrecy.' 
 
 " With these words, he took his departure, 
 leaving the witnesses bewildered in a maze of 
 
 conjectures. M. T though immensely rich, 
 
 (he was said to possess upwards of three millions) 
 never recovered from the mortification attendant 
 on this unexpected discovery. The jeweller faith- 
 fully adhered to his promise of secrecy ; but the 
 subtle machinery of the police unravelled the 
 mystery." 
 
 The following story was related to Prince Cam- 
 baceres by an old friend of Robespierre. I am 
 bound, by a promise, not to disclose his name, 
 but the anecdote will not, for that reason, lose any 
 of its interest. 
 
 " About eleven o'clock on the 1st of June 1794, 
 I was surprised at receiving a visit from Robes- 
 pierre. The lateness of the hour, added to some- 
 thing mysterious in his manner, naturally led me 
 to suppose that he had something very important 
 to communicate. 
 
 " 'This is a late visit,' said lie ' but I assure 
 you that during the day I have not a moment at 
 my disposal. Pubhc business scarcely leaves me 
 time to breathe. It must be allowed, that a man 
 is very disinterested who devotes himself so perse- 
 veringly to the welfare of others.'
 
 168 ALLEGED OVERTURES FROM 
 
 " I could easily perceive that there was some- 
 thing hidden under these words. They seemed to 
 indicate the intention of opening a path which the 
 Dictator had heretofore closed against me. I 
 appeared not to understand him, and made a 
 vague reply, for the purpose of compelling him, 
 if he had any secret design, to explain it clearly. 
 After pacing up and down the room two or three 
 times, and confining his conversation to common- 
 place topics, he suddenly stopped and folded his 
 arms ; then, turning and looking me full in the 
 face, he said : — 
 
 " ' I have something to tell you that will surprise 
 you. .England has proposed peace to ine.' 
 
 *' To you!" I exclaimed in a tone of astonish- 
 ment which I could not repress. " Do you mean to 
 you, or to the Republic ?" 
 
 ** ' To me first, and to the Republic next.' 
 said he. ' The English cabinet gives me credit 
 for possessing great influence, and hopes that I will 
 grant advantageous conditions, which I do not 
 intend. However, we may hear what is proposed 
 without pledging one's self to anything.' 
 
 " Certainly," said I. " But how do 3^ou know 
 that any such project is in contemplation ?" 
 
 " ' Mr. Edward Serton has been instructed to see 
 me, and to confer with me on the subject of an 
 arrangement.' 
 
 " What have you decided on ?" 
 
 " * Nothing, I have not yet seen the envoy. I 
 
 I
 
 ENGLAND TO ROBESPIERRE. 169 
 
 have merely been informed that he is to arrive 
 in Paris to-night, and I have given orders that he 
 shall be conducted to your house, if you please.' 
 
 " Here ? to my house?. .Consider, such a pro- 
 ceeding will compromise me." 
 
 " ' Am not I here ? . . What have you to fear 
 when I direct the affair ? Do not make yourself 
 uneasy. Rest assured that I will release you from 
 all difficulty.' 
 
 " But why all this mystery? Cannot the En- 
 glish envoy put up at an hotel ?" 
 
 " ' No, I must see him before my colleagues of 
 the Committee of Public Safety. He comes in the 
 first instance to me. Afterwards, he may consult 
 with them.' 
 
 " Then it would appear that you mistrust 
 them ?" 
 
 " ' They are my bitterest enemies. My influence 
 mortifies them, and the traitors are plotting against 
 me. Yes, all of them, the austere Carnot, Barrere, 
 the Anacreon of the scaffold, the ferocious Billaud- 
 Varennes, the learned Freron, the impetuous 
 Tallien,. .all my colleagues, whether in the com- 
 mittees or in the convention, hate me. They 
 make me the scape-goat of all their iniquities. 
 They would have it believed that I am the only 
 advocate of the guillotine ; whereas, the wretches 
 themselves are wading in blood to their very 
 ears. The fact is, I abhor them. It is my wish 
 to arrange matters so tliat the republic will be
 
 170 ALLEGED OVERTURES FROM 
 
 settled on a broad and secure foundation. I wish 
 to restore order, and to enable the machinery of 
 government to proceed regularly. But how can this 
 be effected, amidst so many conflicting opinions, 
 with so many ill-disposed fanatics ?.. Do you 
 understand me ?' 
 
 " I begin" said I, " to read your thoughts, .you 
 mean to say, that you are playing a game which 
 you are not sure of winning." 
 
 " ' Perhaps I am ; however, it is still worth a 
 risk... But we are wandering from the subject 
 about which I came to speak to you. To-night. . 
 or between one or two in the morning, Mr. Serton 
 will be here. You must receive him in such a way 
 as to lead your servants to suppose that he is a 
 relation of yours. He speaks French without any 
 foreign accent ; for I requested that some one 
 might be sent who would not give rise to suspi- 
 cion. As soon as he arrives, he will retire to rest ; 
 to-morrow morning, he will rise late and will feign 
 indisposition as a pretext for not going out. I will 
 be here in the evening : it is not necessary that 
 you should be present at our interview ; but do not 
 let it be supposed that you have withdrawn pur- 
 posely. We must be careful not to awaken 
 suspicion. Be cautious. I should not have made 
 choice of you, had I not felt assured that I could 
 place implicit confidence in you.' 
 
 " With this flattering compliment, he left me, 
 and I must confess in no very agreeable state of
 
 ENGLAND TO ROBESPIERRE. 171 
 
 mind. I did not know whether I had any reason 
 to congratulate myself, on being admitted into this 
 important secret. It was evident that Robespierre 
 had some sinister design in treating with Mr. 
 Serton without the knowledge of his comrades. 
 Could he intend to imitate Monck ? That was 
 impossible. Such strokes could be attempted only 
 at the head of an army, and the examples of 
 Lafayette and Dumouriez were not very encou- 
 raging. Did he contemplate a sort of usurpation 
 to perpetuate his power ? That was most probable. 
 In that case, he would be conspiring against the 
 Republic, whilst I should be his confidant, and the 
 accomplice of his ambition. This was not a very 
 pleasant prospect ; but was there now any possi- 
 bility of retracting ? Decidedly not ... I was now 
 in the power of the monster, and he would send 
 me without hesitation to the guillotine, on the 
 least suspicion of my treachery. Accordingly, 
 having duly weighed all circumstances, I came 
 to the resolution of resigning myself to this new 
 peril. 
 
 " I informed my servants of the expected ar- 
 rival of my newly-acquired relation ; and such 
 preparations as time would permit, were made for 
 his reception. About one o'clock, a knock was 
 heard at the door, and the porter admitted Mr. 
 Edward Serton and his valet. I received my 
 guest in the best manner I could ; but of course 
 avoided any allusion to the object of his journey.
 
 172 THE ENGLISH ENVOY. 
 
 " We embraced, and entered into conversation, as 
 if we had passed the early part of our hves together. 
 To shorten the farce, I conducted my cousin to the 
 chamber which had been prepared for him : and, 
 having wished him good night, I retired to bed. 
 However, I did not enjoy much sleep : for my 
 mind was too much disturbed by uneasy thoughts ; 
 neither did I pass the following day more tran- 
 quilly. I apprehended a thousand occurrences 
 which might prove fatal to my liberty, and even to 
 my life. I stayed at home nearly all day : and I 
 saw nothing of my guest ; his breakfast and 
 dinner being served in his chamber by his valet. 
 
 " At nine in the evening, Robespierre called. 
 He requested me to introduce him to my relation, 
 w^hich I did, and immediately withdrew. At mid- 
 night, Robespierre went away, without seeing me 
 before his departure, and I immediately retired to 
 bed, where the anxiety I had suffered, during the 
 previous night, made me fall into a profound sleep. 
 I rose late on the following morning, and my ser- 
 vant delivered to me a note from my cousin, who, 
 on taking leave of me, thanked me for my hospi- 
 tality, and informed me that I should find in one 
 of the drawers of a secretaire in his chamber a little 
 token of remembrance from his father, my uncle. 
 This token proved to be a watch, set round with 
 diamonds, and worth about ten thousand francs. 
 I was m.ortified that my English guest should value, 
 at so high a price, the asylum I had afforded him
 
 TOKEN OF REMEMBRANCE. 173 
 
 for the space of four and twenty hours. His 
 abrupt departure, too, surprised me. 
 
 " In the evening, Robespierre sent to imformme 
 that he wished me to meet him in the gardens of 
 the Tuileries. I joined him there. He ordered 
 his coachman to drive along the Boulevards as far 
 as the Place de la Bastille. I mentioned to 
 Robespierre the strange conduct of our English 
 visitor, and added that I could not help feeling 
 hurt at it. 
 
 " ' Pooh ! you are a novice,' replied he. . ' Is 
 it not right to get all we can from the enemies 
 of France ? Besides, presents are indispensable 
 in diplomatic negociators. You may, if you please, 
 send back the watch to your uncle George III ; 
 but, T would not advise you to do so. Such a 
 step may be attended by unpleasant consequences.* 
 
 " I understood his hint, and took it as a warn- 
 ing ; but, having found an opportunity of dis- 
 posing of the watch, I distributed its value among 
 the hospitals of the capital. Robespierre then 
 began to converse on another subject : 
 
 " ' Really,' said he, ' the English must be 
 mad . . . They have made me such extravagant pro- 
 positions, that their cabinet must either be crazy, 
 or must suppose me to be devoid of reason. The 
 proposition that has been made to me is so flatter- 
 ing that it is almost incredible.' 
 
 " I presume, then, that you doubt its sin 
 cerity ?"
 
 174 PROPOSED MARRIAGE 
 
 " 'By no means ! The fact is, they have pro- 
 posed, as a first condition, that I should recall the 
 Bourbons, .... that I should acknowledge as King 
 the boy Louis XVII, and that I should be Regent.' 
 
 " Strange enough ! And what would they gain 
 by their King Louis XVII ?" 
 
 " 'Not much ! He is no favourite with them. 
 They have not much confidence in him, which 
 leads me to suspect he has more merit than is 
 usually attributed to him. The English cabi- 
 net will not acknowledge him in his regency. 
 You know that Austria refused to give him the 
 title of King as long as Marie- Antoinette lived. 
 Only imagine me Regent, under the pretended 
 supremacy of a puppet, and in the face of the 
 Jacobins and aristocrats ? I should not retain 
 the post for a single day.' 
 
 " How could they presume to make such a 
 proposition ? . . What security did they offer you ? 
 for certainly you required some." 
 
 " ' Oh ! as to that, handsome offers were not 
 wanting. They proposed to attach me to the 
 young King by such ties as would render his 
 defence a family duty on my part.' 
 
 " Infamous !" I exclaimed, roused by an irre- 
 pressible feeling of indignation. " Do they not 
 know that the thing is impossible ?" 
 
 " ' Not physically,' replied Robespierre, in a 
 tone of marked dissatisfaction, 
 
 " Perhaps not physically," J resumed, " but cer- 
 
 J
 
 BETWEEN ROBESPIERRE AND A PRINCESS. 175 
 
 tainly morally. You would never consent to such 
 a thing ?" 
 
 " ' You have not,' said he, ' a very brilliant 
 imagination. You are not disposed to build cas- 
 tles in the air.' 
 
 " Rather say, castles in the regions below .... 
 castles in Pandemonium .... Robespierre, *hear me ! 
 Be assured that a wall of iron separates you .... 
 You understand ?" 
 
 " ' I do !. . . .And the devil take that horde of 
 villains who have made me appear to be a par- 
 ticipator in their crimes, though I am really inno- 
 cent*... But, I view the matter as you do.... 
 The impossibility staggers me ! .... It is a Gordian 
 knot. . . .Yet, it would have been a most desirable 
 arrangement.' 
 
 " Without appearing to observe this last re- 
 mark, I said : 
 
 " And is this all that was proposed to you ?" 
 
 " * When they found that I refused, on the 
 ground of the irrevocable hatred which I had 
 vowed to Royalty, the envoy declared himself 
 authorised to propose a hereditary Presidency, 
 with the same marriage. . . .This I also rejected. 
 Mr. Serton then suggested something more practic- 
 able: viz. twenty years of elective Presidency. This 
 appeared to be honourable and unobjectionable. 
 One might preside temporarily without usurping 
 absolute power. A period of twenty years is not 
 quite three times the duration of the Presidency of
 
 176 MILITARY DESPOTISM. 
 
 the American government. It would afford the 
 opportunity of effecting a great deal of good.' 
 
 " Did you come to any decision ?" 
 
 *' 'Not yet Such matters cannot be settled 
 
 hastily. They must be considered and examined, 
 under every point of view .... I probably appear 
 to you very powerful at this moment ; and so 
 I am .... My power hangs on public opinion, — on a 
 delusion of terror, on a revolutionary fanaticism 
 which will support me as long as I advance from 
 one extravagance to another. But, I want private 
 supports. I scarcely know a man on whom I 
 can conffdently rely. I stand alone. My strength 
 is in myself. It depends on no one.' 
 
 " Not on Fleuriot ?" 
 
 " ' He ! a fool ! a drunkard !' 
 
 " Saint- Just, then ?" 
 
 " ' A senseless libertine !' 
 
 " Well, then, your brother ?" 
 
 ** ' Oh ! he is a timid creature, and devoid 
 of judgment and everything, except merely our 
 internal affairs .... I do not hold a military com- 
 mission. The want of that trammels all my efforts. 
 A man can never effect a revolution unless he 
 commands bayonets. The instinct of the people 
 is decidedly for liberty. The military are infected 
 with despotism. Those generals will devour us 
 all sooner or later. Look at the Roman Empire. 
 For two or three Emperors elected by the Senate, 
 you may count a hundred imposed by the army,'
 
 ROBESPIERRE AND THE ROYALISTS. 177 
 
 *' Then, I presume, you know not what course 
 to adopt." 
 
 " * I am embarrassed.' 
 
 *' And, in sending back the Enghsh envoy, you 
 have broken with the London Cabinet." 
 
 " ' I may answer both yes and no. I am urged 
 to make an attempt. It is difficult. I am afraid 
 of compromising myself. All eyes are fixed upon 
 me. My actions are watched and my gestures 
 interpreted. It is most painful to endure this 
 inquisition. Yet, I will make an effort to strike 
 a great blow, I will shew myself to the public in 
 such a way as to command attention. 1 am well 
 aware, that if I do not show myself, I shall never be 
 able to do anything that will tend to restore 
 to France her repose and happiness.' 
 
 ** He next asked me, whether I thought the 
 royalists would be inclined to accommodate them- 
 selves to a reasonable government. 
 
 " I am of opinion," replied I, " that they will 
 take whatever is offered to them. In the absence 
 of a King, you will see them rally round any 
 one who grasps authority with a firm hand." 
 
 " Robespierre broke oft" the conversation, and or- 
 dered the coachman to tlie Rue Saint-Honor^. We 
 soon separated. After I had taken leave of him, I 
 could not help reflecting, with horror, on the mar- 
 riage which had been proposed. To unite the 
 daughter of the immolated victims to their exe- 
 
 VOL. I. N
 
 178 RELIGIOUS FESTIVAL. 
 
 cutioner ! The very thought made my blood 
 curdle ! 
 
 " On the 18th of June, was celebrated the festival 
 in honour of the Supreme Being. On the pre- 
 vious day, Robespierre sent me a note, requesting 
 that I would attend the ceremony. David, the 
 painter, had designed all the decorations. The 
 festival was held in the garden of the Tuileries. In 
 front of the facade, on an elevated socle, stood 
 the figure of Fanaticism, crowned with the papal 
 tiara, and holding in one hand a torch, and in 
 the other a poignard. Face to face with this 
 figure stood Atheism, which was represented by 
 a blind female, occupied in tearing the book of the 
 law. A mass of combustible matter surrounded 
 the group. Near it was a car of vast magnitude 
 filled with singers and musicians, parading the gar- 
 dens and chaunting hymns, the poetry of which 
 was in the style of Chenier. 
 
 " An immense crowd thronged the approaches 
 to the amphitheatre, where the members of the 
 Convention were to take their places. They ar- 
 rived, headed by Robespierre, who wore a blue 
 coat, with a bouquet of tri-coloured flowers. It 
 was remarked that his colleagues did not follow 
 him closely, but at some distance, apparently 
 .acknowledging him as sovereign. When I ob- 
 served this circumstance, I doubted not that 
 Robespierre had prepared everything for striking
 
 RELIGIOUS FESTIVAL. 179 
 
 the grand blow ; that he would avail himself of 
 that opportunity to proclaim a full amnesty, and 
 annihilate the reign of terror ; and that the people 
 would, in return, raise him to the highest rank 
 in the state. 
 
 " But, I was mistaken. Robespierre had the 
 ambition to do all this ; but not the genius. He 
 delivered a poor speech, which he closed by a 
 most atrocious phrase. This being ended, he ap- 
 phed a match to a train of gunpowder, and the 
 figures of Fanaticism and Atheism were imme- 
 diately blown up. They were to have been suc- 
 ceeded by the statue of eternal Wisdom, but, owing 
 to some blunder of the mechanists, this statue 
 was blown up along with the other two. This 
 circumstance was regarded as a bad omen, and 
 it gave rise to a good deal of remark. 
 
 " Two days after this, Robespierre called on me. 
 
 " 'Well,' said he, ' you see I kept my word, 
 and that I know how to show myself ! What 
 di<l you think of the manner in which I presided 
 at the festival ? Did I not put myself forward 
 most conspicuously ? The members of the Con- 
 vention seemed to be merely my escort.' 
 
 " I should rather say that they acted the part 
 of your body guard. But, seriously, I expected 
 something more of you." 
 
 " • What did you expect ?' 
 
 " A solemn protestation against past crimes : 
 
 N 2
 
 180 Robespierre's alarms. 
 
 a speech which would have held out the con- 
 solation of a happier future." 
 
 '* ' You are very wise, truly ! But I can tell 
 you that, had I done as you suggest, I should 
 have been assassinated on the spot. I could read 
 in the looks of the multitude what I had to expect. 
 Therefore, I made my oration somewhat different 
 from what I intended.' 
 
 " I understand. You were afraid ; and your 
 own fear caused you to inspire us with fear. This 
 is not the way to succeed." 
 
 " * I am aware it is not. But what can I do ? 
 I tell you once more, I stand alone ; and who 
 know^s whether the English are deluding me? 
 Perhaps their only object is to urge me to an 
 act of imprudence which would compromise me. 
 My destruction would, doubtless, be gratifying to 
 them.' 
 
 " Therefore, your new plans are " 
 
 " 'To take revenge on the traitors !' he ex- 
 claimed in a voice of fury ; ' To annihilate them 
 all. They surround, they besiege me .... I behold 
 them during the day, — I dream of them during 
 the night. What daggers are pointed against me ! 
 . . . .what doses of poison prepared ! . . . .Do you 
 know I begin to suspect my most intimate asso- 
 ciates. That girl Duplay, for example ;....! fear 
 she has been bribed. My Ufe is at her mercy. I 
 might ' 
 
 J
 
 PROJECTED MARRIAGE. 181 
 
 " Here he stopped short. 
 
 ** Your position is not an enviable one," said I. 
 
 ** ' No, indeed !' he replied. * May Satan 
 avenge me on him who first drew me into the 
 path which I am now treading ! However, I have 
 returned him ill for ill. But for him .... but for 
 him — ' 
 
 '* He said no more. I regarded him as a man 
 marked by the finger of God. I never saw him 
 again ; — the 9th Thermidor speedily followed. 
 
 * * •IP "JP TV 
 
 When I returned to Prince Cambaceres, the 
 above historical fragment, of which, by his per- 
 mission, I kept a copy, he made the following 
 observations : — 
 
 " There is no fact in our fatal history, more 
 positively certain, than the allurement held out to 
 Robespierre of his marriage with an august and 
 unfortunate Princess, who was totally ignorant of 
 the infamous traffic in which her name was in- 
 volved. Robespierre went so far as to visit the 
 illustrious captive in her prison. He represented 
 himself as a municipal officer, and assumed the 
 pretence of making an official visit. He declared 
 himself quite enchanted with the Princess, though 
 he had not presumed to speak to her, so com- 
 pletely was he overawed by the dignity of her 
 looks and manners. But, she was not the only 
 Princess of the blood-royal of France whom Ro- 
 bespierre contemplated the possibility of marrying.
 
 182 THE DUKE OF ORLEANS. 
 
 I will relate to you a story which I heard from 
 the mouth of Tallien himself, who, I have no 
 doubt, would repeat it to you, unless he might 
 think it dangerous to do so, in the present po- 
 sition of affairs. The story is this : 
 
 " Robespierre, at the very outset, even on the 
 first creation of the Constituent Assembly, di- 
 rected his attention to the Duke of Orleans, and 
 sought to make him King. But, in proportion 
 as the revolution was consolidated, the Duke lost 
 the advantages of his position. He had not the 
 energy requisite for seizing the chances which 
 presented themselves, and turning them to the 
 best account. He, therefore, was thrust back 
 and lost in the crowd, whilst Robespierre daily 
 gained ground in the public opinion. The conse- 
 quence was what was naturally to be expected ; 
 namely : the importance of the Duke declined, and 
 he was no longer regarded as the leader of a 
 party. 
 
 " The King's trial did a great deal of injury 
 to the Duke ; whilst, on the contrary, Robespierre 
 gained, at that time, avast accession of popularity, 
 which he shared with Marat. To make the Prince 
 a King, a president, or a chief of any kind, in 
 France, was a thing no longer thought of. Never- 
 theless, many continued attached to him, and, as 
 it was possible that his name might yet be ser- 
 viceable, his co-operation was not to be despised. 
 It was even probable that the Robespierrists, if
 
 Robespierre's ultimatum. 183 
 
 united with the Orleanists, would acquire the 
 greater ascendancy, inasmuch as all the distin- 
 guished generals of that period were inclined to 
 side with the Duke. 
 
 " After shrewdly considering the circumstances 
 which I have explained, Robespierre conceived 
 his plan. A constitution was to be given to 
 France, and two presidents were to be established ; 
 one for the war department or for foreign affairs, 
 the other for the civil or home department. The 
 first of these two posts, was to be assigned to 
 the man who should be chosen by the majority 
 of the people ; and the second, to be filled by 
 Robespierre. But, with the view of consolidating 
 this arrangement, and of blending the interests 
 of these two chiefs imposed on the Republic, 
 Robespierre, by virtue of a pretension equally 
 insane and arrogant, demanded as a pledge, the 
 hand of the Princess, the sister of the Duke of 
 Chartres. This was his ultimatum. 
 
 " This proposition was broached by Couthon. 
 The Duke of Orleans required a few days to reflect 
 upon it. He immediately dispatched a confi- 
 dential person to his eldest son with tlie cir- 
 cumstance. There is every reason to believe 
 that the Duke de Chartres returned a negative 
 answer. 
 
 " Dumouriez, who was of course consulted, 
 had also formed his plan, which this proposition 
 was calculated to thwart. He hoped to conduct 
 his aid-de-camp to the throne of Louis XVI by
 
 184 THE DUKE OF ORLEANS. 
 
 another path. On the day appointed, the Duke 
 of Orleans sent for Couthon, and told him, with 
 aftected chagrin, that his daughter's incUnations 
 were opposed to the marriage, and that, moreover, 
 it would be dangerous to think of it before the 
 execution of the plan in which he was so deeply 
 interested. The Prince concluded by observing, 
 that the constitution must first be proposed, then 
 accepted, and that every thing else would become 
 easy. 
 
 ** This was a refusal ; and Robespierre was 
 furiously offended. However, as he saw that his 
 fortune w^as secure, if connected with that of the 
 Orleans branch of royalty, he made a new" effort. 
 He knew that I was on a footing of intimacy 
 with the Prince, and he sent for me. He al- 
 leged that the Prince himself had been the first 
 to express a w^ish for the alliance ; and he com- 
 missioned me to point out to him the advan- 
 tageous results of a consent, and the danger of 
 a refusal. I was to commence with promises, and 
 to end with threats. 
 
 " I acquitted myself of this unpleasant errand ; 
 though not to the satisfaction of Robespierre. 
 The Duke of Orleans did not take much pains 
 to conceal from me his unconquerable repugnance 
 to his proposed son-in-law. On this occasion, 
 he behaved as became a Prince of the blood. 
 He turned a deaf ear to all considerations, ad- 
 vantageous or otherwise, which I submitted to 
 him. When I informed Robespierre of the result
 
 EXECUTION OF THE DUKE. 185 
 
 of my mission, he became furiously enraged, and 
 vowed to avenge the affront by the destruction 
 of all the royal family — an object to which he 
 thenceforth devoted himself. It is known how 
 he constrained Dumouriez to raise the mask, and 
 how he forced the Duke de Chartres to seek refuge 
 in the ranks of the enemy, whilst measures were 
 taken at home to arrest his father. 
 
 " After the Duke of Orleans was conducted to 
 Marseilles, Robespierre signified to him that his 
 fate might yet be arrested if he would retract his 
 refusal to the proposed marriage. The Prince's reply 
 was again in the negative. Then, the vengeance 
 of Robespierre knew no bounds, and he resolved 
 to hurry the death of the man whom he wished 
 to make his father-in-law. When the Duke of 
 Orleans was conducted to Paris to undergo the 
 sentence of execution, I was commissioned to 
 convey to him a final proposal ; and I solemnly 
 protest, before God and man, that if, at the moment 
 when the charrette which conveyed him to the 
 scaffold halted on the Place du Palais-Royal, the 
 Prince had manifested any inclination to yield 
 his consent, the execution would not have taken 
 place. The fact is, that every arrangement had 
 been made for a temporary insurrection, to afford 
 the means of saving him. This was the cause 
 of the mysterious delay of nearly an hour, in 
 the advancement of the fatal charrette. But his 
 Royal Highness, who manifested so much firm-
 
 186 TALLIEN. 
 
 ness throughout his trial, gave no sign of acquies- 
 cence, and Robespierre suffered him to mount the 
 scaffold. 
 
 ** Such," pursued Cambaceres, ** is the story 
 which I have heard related by Tallien. I beUeve 
 it to be strictly true, with the exception, perhaps, 
 of that which relates to the scheme for rescuing 
 the Prince. That would have exposed Robespierre 
 to great peril ; and he was too much of a poltroon 
 to hazard his safety so far." 
 
 To the above observations of Prince Camba- 
 ceres, I may add, that a few days after he had 
 related the story to me, I spoke of it to Tallien. 
 The latter positively declared it to be true, and 
 his declaration was made in the presence of wit- 
 nesses.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 The Duke of Otranto — Police disclosures — A lady of quality in the 
 pay of the police — Snare laid to entrap the Polignacs — A gang 
 of thieves betrayed — Love and Police — A mysterious billet — 
 Fouch^'s rendez-vous — The discreet porter — Discovery of mur- 
 ders committed by the Countess Polvere — Poison and somnam- 
 bulism — The double lady, an optical phenomenon — The General 
 and the Pilgrim — The brigands and the crucifix — Singular vi- 
 sion of Louis- Sebastian Mercier — Apparition seen by Napoleon 
 and Josephine. 
 
 I met the Duke of Otranto only twice or thrice du- 
 ring my visits to Prince Cambaceres in 1814. He 
 was gay, and satirical, and he ridiculed, with unspar- 
 ing severity the conduct of the public men of the 
 time. But, on this latter subject, all his friends ex- 
 pressed themselves with equal freedom. I was fre- 
 quently astonished to hear these men of the Empire re- 
 late, without reserve, the secret and even dangerous 
 anecdotes of the era they had just closed. I should 
 have expected they would have been more guarded.
 
 188 POLICE ANECDOTES 
 
 One might almost have imagined the restoration 
 had been separated by the lapse of a centur}' from 
 the Empire and the Republic, and that all the 
 actors and witnesses of their anecdotes were no 
 more; whilst, on the contrary, they were all living 
 and on terms of intimacy with them. 
 
 The Duke of Otranto, however, who did not 
 consider his career at an end, was somewhat 
 more reserved than the others : but even he related 
 many facts which, had I been in his place, I should 
 have kept to myself. Among this number is the 
 following. I give it in Fouche's own words, mere- 
 ly suppressing the names, which the narrator did 
 not think it necessary to conceal. 
 
 " In the exercise of my official duties, I gave 
 audiences of various kinds : I had even several 
 places out of my hotel, where 1 received those 
 timid persons, who were alarmed at the name of 
 the police, though they had no objection to accept 
 its pay. At these places, I often had interviews 
 with persons, male and female, of different ages 
 and conditions. Some came on foot, others in 
 their carriages ; some disguised, and others in 
 their own characters. On one occasion, when I 
 was at my little political establishment, in the Rue 
 Saint-Louis, then called the Rue de Turenne, a 
 lady was announced. 
 
 " A young and pretty female presented herself. I 
 received her with all possible politeness. She 
 gave me her name ; and I then recollected that I
 
 RELATED BY F0UCh6. 189 
 
 knew something, — I may say a good deal — of her. 
 Her mother, (or as she was styled her aunt) a 
 lady of quality, had been a pensioner of mine since 
 a very remote period. She had been well known 
 in the government offices since the time of M. de 
 
 M , but at that period she performed other 
 
 functions besides supplying information to the 
 police. 
 
 " Her pretty niece, now deputed to me, com- 
 menced by narrating her history. Young as she 
 was, she had suffered numerous misfortunes, for 
 you know that all the spies of our police, are the 
 most unfortunate set of people in the world : in 
 short, the young lady had her sorrows, and her 
 wants, and no fortune. Her aunt had assured her 
 thatlwould treat herwith all thekindnessof afather; 
 and, in return, she promised that I should know all 
 her secrets, and be made acquainted with all her 
 friends. She received numerous visitors, among 
 whom were imprudent young men, and elderly 
 gentlemen, wanting in reserve. She mentioned to 
 me five or six houses of the old and new regimes, 
 into which I had never yet been able to introduce 
 one of my agents ; and to which she promised to 
 open for me a channel of access. 
 
 ** Our bargain was speedily concluded : — five 
 hundred francs per month, and a thousand francs 
 at the expiration of a certain number of years, when 
 my young beauty should have acquired sufficient 
 credit and experience.
 
 190 POLICE ANECDOTES 
 
 " Her first enterprise was directed against M.M. 
 de Polignac. She found means to introduce her- 
 self into the maison de sante in which they were 
 confined. However, she w^as not very successful. 
 The two captives received her coolly, and endea- 
 voured to get rid of her ; but she was not easily 
 discouraged : she continued to hover about them, 
 and made such a parade of royalism, that she 
 managed to get possession of an important letter, 
 which supplied me with some valuable information. 
 This letter described a journey in the south, un- 
 dertaken by a royalist emissary, who named the 
 leaders of the party, their respective capabilities, 
 their position in society, characters, etc. It was 
 quite a treasure. 
 
 " At one of our monthly interviews, my fair 
 emissary thus addressed me : — 
 
 *' ' Monseigneur, my zeal in your service carries 
 me so far that, for the sake of obliging you, I 
 sometimes condescend to mingle in very bad 
 company : I have now made a valuable disco- 
 very.' 
 
 " What is it?" 
 
 ** 'A gang of thieves are ravaging, by then- de- 
 predations, Paris and its environs. If you wish 
 to know their ringleaders and their haunts, here is 
 a note which will help you to find them out.' 
 
 " I took the paper which she presented to me, 
 and, to my inexpressible surprise, I found that it 
 contained a quantity of information, such as could
 
 RELATED BY FOUCH^. 191 
 
 only have been obtained by the foulest treachery. 
 My rule was never to question my agents, or, as 
 they were called, my mouches. I received their 
 disclosures, ^nd that was all. To torment them 
 by wishing to know everything, is only the way 
 to lead them into falsehood. They will not always 
 name their informants ; I never deviated from my 
 rule. When I had some particular reason for 
 knowing every circumstance, then I erected coun- 
 ter-batteries, which I did on the occasion to which 
 I am now referring. 
 
 " I was anxious to know the devices by which my 
 sylph had been enabled to make these discoveries. 
 I sent for the officer who had the surveillance of the 
 thieves of Paris, and I stated the case to him. 
 Five days afterwards, I learned that, among the 
 numerous lovers of my lady mouche, was one of the 
 most celebrated of our Parisian thieves. This 
 fellow spent one half of his life in the jails, and the 
 other half in the most splendid hotels : he was 
 quite a hero in the annals of crime, endowed with 
 address, courage, and talent ; but so utterly de- 
 praved that I could never prevail on myself to 
 employ him. 
 
 " This man, however, being outwitted in some of 
 his dishonest operations by another rogue of his 
 acquaintance, avenged himself by denouncing to me 
 his rival and his comrades. It is gratifying to see 
 wolves reciprocally devouring each other ; and I 
 availed myself of the information received from
 
 192 POLICE ANECDOTES 
 
 F. . . . until I should have the opportunity of seiz- 
 ing him in his turn. 
 
 " About this time, there arrived in Paris a hand- 
 some young man of three and twenty years of 
 age, the son of an emigre of rank. Tiiis young 
 gentleman was known by the assumed name of M. 
 Le Noble. The ostensible object of his visit to 
 Paris was to obtain for his family, who were still 
 absent, the restoration of some unsold estates : — 
 but, in fact, he was a secret agent of Louis XVIII, 
 who had intrusted him with an important mis- 
 sion. 
 
 " His evil star led him to visit a certain Vis- 
 countess, of whom I shall say nothing, as it would 
 be difficult to say any thing bad enough. Her 
 house was the resort of a great deal of gay company, 
 among whom were jumbled together honest men 
 and swindlers, ladies of respectability, and females 
 of doubtful reputation : in short, all that mixed 
 society which abounds in every great city, and 
 which persons, who are not very cautious or very 
 fastidious, may easily fall into. 
 
 " At the parties of this Viscountess, M. Le No- 
 ble met my fair mouche, and was soon captivated 
 by her attractions. She, at the very first introduc- 
 tion, suspected that he was something better thiin 
 he seemed to be. She plied him with declarations 
 of the most enthusiastic royalism. Love is credu- 
 lous : and Le Noble's passion formed no exception 
 to the rule. He was confiding, and let fall some
 
 RELATED BY FOUCHE. 193 
 
 hints respecting the real object of his visit to Paris. 
 This disclosure came like a ray of light upon his 
 innamorata. After a regular series of sighs and 
 glances, letters were interchanged. These were, 
 in their turn, followed by assignations. The 
 intimacy at length attracted notice, and in- 
 curred the well-feigned displeasure of the lady's 
 aunt. 
 
 " One morning, whilst the rain was pouring 
 in torrents, Le Noble was surprised to hear a 
 knock at the door of his apartment ; but, how 
 much greater was his surprise, when, on opening the 
 door, he beheld the mouche breathless with agitation, 
 and almost dissolved in tears ! — Exclamations and 
 questions rapidly succeeded each other. 
 
 " * How ! .... Is it possible ? , . . . Can it be 
 you?' 
 
 ** ' It is .... I am lo3': , . . .undone ! . . . . And I 
 know no one to whom I can fly for protection but 
 you.' 
 
 " ' What means this? .... What has hap- 
 pened ?' 
 
 " ' Alas ! my aunt has broken open my desk 
 and discovered your letters .... I feared to en- 
 counter her anger. . . .and I have fled from home !' 
 
 *' ' Mon Dieu, Mademoiselle ! what is to be 
 done ? You know I have not deceived you. From 
 the first moment of our acquaintance, I told you, 
 candidly, that I was not my own master — that 
 I should compromise the interests of august in- 
 
 VOL. I. ()
 
 194 POLICE ANECDOTES 
 
 dividuals were I to attach myself to France by 
 a marriage which, under other circumstances, 
 would constitute my utmost happiness, and con- 
 centrate all my affections.' 
 
 " ' I know it, dear Le Noble, the fault is all 
 my own ; and I will not require you to do any 
 thing which may compromise your honour. I 
 only conjure you to call on the Commander de 
 Chateauneuf, who is my aunt's particular friend ; 
 ask him to go to her and appease her anger. 
 From thence, I should wish you to go to the 
 Vicomtesse, and implore her to receive me, in 
 case my aunt should prove inexorable. You can 
 stay with the Vicomtesse until you hear the result 
 of the Commander's intercession, and then you 
 can all three come here and tell me my fate.' 
 
 " Poor Le Noble, distracted between love and 
 despair, and generously reproaching himself for 
 all the mischief, flew to execute the orders of the 
 distressed damsel. You all know the Commander 
 de Chateauneuf. To make himself of importance, 
 is the grand object of his existence ; and he was 
 very anxious to do anything to serve me. I had 
 sent one of my agents to give him a hint of the 
 part he was to play. He entered into a long 
 conversation with Le Noble on the subject of his 
 unfortunate attachment ; expressed regret, evinced 
 indecision, and, at length, took up his hat and 
 went out. He accompanied Le Noble as far as 
 the house of the Vicomtesse, wiiere he left him,
 
 RELATED BY FOUCHE, 195 
 
 and proceeded on his embassy to the young lady's 
 aunt. 
 
 " Le Noble, though seated in conversation 
 with the Vicomtesse, counted the moments of the 
 Commander's absence. The clock struck twelve. 
 The lady endeavoured to amuse her visitor ; but, 
 his heart and his thoughts were at home. Half 
 past twelve arrived, and the Commander appeared. 
 The aunt was appeased. She had listened to 
 reason ; and now all that remained was, to an- 
 nounce the grateful tidings to the lovely niece. 
 The Vicomtesse retired to get her hat and shawl. 
 This occasioned some little additional delay, and, 
 at two o'clock, Le Noble returned to his lodgings, 
 distressed to think of the anxiety which his fair 
 visitor must have suffered during his absence. 
 
 " Little did he suspect, that he had no sooner 
 left his house, than a host of searchers, lock- 
 smiths, cabinet makers, decypherers of hand- 
 writing, etc. had been admitted to his apartments: 
 that his desk, his drawers, even the bed, the cur- 
 tains and every article of furniture had undergone 
 a rigorous examination. Full powers, credentials, 
 diplomatic notes, and directions indicating wiiere 
 other important papers were to be found, all fell 
 into the hands of my agents, either in copies or 
 extracts ; and it was known where to find the 
 originals, if necessary. 
 
 " It was to accomplish this object, that the 
 
 o 2
 
 196 POLICE ANECDOTES. 
 
 scheme had been devised for getting Le Noble 
 out of the way. By this means, we avoided the 
 odium which would have attended a forcible 
 seizure of the papers ; and nothing occurred to 
 excite the least attention or curiosity on the part 
 of the other inmates of the hotel. My agents, 
 who had taken the precaution of stationing in the 
 street numerous scouts, departed at least half an 
 hour before Le Noble returned. He found the 
 young lady, as he had left her, bathed in tears ; 
 but the assurance of her aunt's forgiveness con- 
 soled her, and she departed, with many protes- 
 tations of eternal fidelity. Next day, the police 
 paid a formal visit to Le Noble. He w^as arrested. 
 The evidence of his guilt was undeniable. He 
 was tried on the two-fold charge of being a spy, 
 and of being engaged in a plot for assassinating 
 the Emperor. He was found guilty of both 
 crimes, condemned and executed." 
 
 On hearing this terrible denouement, we all 
 uttered an exclamation of horror. 
 
 " Surely, gentlemen," said the Duke of Otranto, 
 " it is a very false kind of sympathy which urges 
 you to feel a deeper interest for the assassin, than 
 for his victim. The young man whose story I 
 have just narrated, was a Ravaillac, an Anker- 
 stroem, and he well deserved his fate." 
 
 " Yet," observed I, " the means employed to 
 obtain his conviction were base and treacherous."
 
 A MYSTERIOUS NOTE, 197 
 
 ' ' How ! would you rather see the crime per- 
 petrated, than take measures to prevent it by 
 revealing the design of the criminal." 
 
 " But, Monseigneur, your pretty mouche w^as a 
 downright monster." 
 
 " Oh ! as to her, I am quite willing to consign 
 her to your tender mercy. She is now a furious 
 royalist. She goes to the Tuileries, has interviews 
 with Count de Blacas, cajoles the Duke de 
 Richelieu and denounces me .... But I see," 
 pursued the ex-minister, " that my story has 
 saddened you. I will tell you another, which 
 though, perhaps, not more cheering, is certainly 
 more extraordinary. 
 
 " One day, I received a letter from a lady, .the 
 perfume and the manner in which it was folded, 
 assured me that it was a lady's letter. The 
 writer implored me not, indeed, to go in person, 
 (that was a thing not to be expected,) but to 
 send some trustworthy person, who possessed my 
 entire confidence. An affair of the utmost im- 
 portance was to be communicated to me, but the 
 writer distinctly added that it was nothing of a 
 political nature. 
 
 " I confess that this note excited my curiosity ; 
 and, though at the risk of compromising the 
 gravity of my official character, I felt inclined to 
 enter upon the adventure, especially as a very 
 tinistworthy and confidential person was required. 
 I determined to go, and in such a garb as would
 
 198 FOUCIIE IN DISGUISE. 
 
 preclude the chance of my being recognised : — I 
 have oftener than once disguised myself so as to 
 defy the recognition of even my intimate ac- 
 quaintance. 
 
 " The ]A3.ce of rendez-vous W3.S a house in the 
 humble Rue de la Montagne-Saint-Genevieve. I 
 dressed myself in a violet-coloured coat, a dark 
 blue velvet waistcoat, small clothes of black 
 kerseymere, and black silk stockings, shoes with 
 silver buckles, a three-cornered cocked hat, and 
 afrisure a Vancien regime. I stepped into a fiacre, 
 from which I alighted at the top of the Rue des 
 Fosses-Saint-Victor, and, having cautiously posted 
 my vedettes, I hurried on to the place of my 
 destination. The house had a pwte-cochere, a 
 small court-yard, a vestibule and a large stair- 
 case. It was evidently the old residence of a 
 person of opulence .... probably a member of the 
 ancienne robe. . . .indeed, the signature of the letter, 
 was a name which had been associated with the 
 parliament of Paris. 
 
 " I inquired for Madame de Polvere. 
 
 " ' The young lady, or the dowager?' said the 
 servant. 
 
 " This question embarrassed me, and I hesitated 
 for a moment ; but, immediately recollecting the 
 httle perfumed billet, I answered promptly and 
 confidently — the young lady. 
 
 " ' Step up stairs to the first floor, and knock 
 at the great door facing the staircase.'
 
 THE DISCREET PORTER. 199 
 
 " And where does the dowager reside ?" in- 
 quired I, anxious to gain all the information I 
 could. 
 
 " ' On the ground floor, in the apartments 
 looking to the garden ; that is to say, when she is 
 in Paris, but she is now at her country seat.' 
 
 " Oh ! . . . .yes, . . it is. . . .near. ..." 
 
 " 'Near Beauvais .... perhaps you have been 
 at the chateau, Sir?' 
 
 " No. . .but I know the place well. I main- 
 tained this colloquy with an old man, who looked 
 as if he united in himself the three-fold dignities 
 of porter, butler and gardener. " And how is 
 monsieur ?" said I pursuing my interrogatories. 
 
 " * Do you mean the Baron, or monsieur his 
 father?' 
 
 '' Oh both! both!" 
 
 *' ' The Count is with madame at. . . .and the 
 young Baron has not yet returned from his jour- 
 ney.' 
 
 ** And are all the rest well ?" 
 
 " ' Alas, Sir ! we lost, about six months ago, 
 the old demoiselle Desrivi^res, the Count's sister, 
 a most pious lady, who was so very good herself, 
 that she was scandalized at our wickedness, and 
 was always telling us that we were doomed to 
 eternal punishment. It was a great relief to all the 
 house, when it pleased Heaven to take her, . . . As 
 to the Commander, he enjoys a green old age, at 
 eighty. Monsieur Jules, the Baron's brother, is
 
 200 FAMILY PORTRAITS. 
 
 with the army, and their sister, Madame de Mel- 
 mire, is separated from her husband.' 
 
 " Bah ! is it possible !" 
 
 " ' Bless me. Sir, don't you know it. . . .From 
 the way in which you questioned me, I supposed 
 you were quite intimate with the family.' 
 
 " I have just returned from India." 
 
 " ' Sainte Vierge I that is a great way off. . . . 
 Well, monsieur, then, since you don't know it I 
 will tell you, that the Countess has done a great 
 deal of mischief. . . the young couple have quar- 
 relled and parted. .. ,One morning, Madame de 
 Melmire came down stairs with her cheek swollen 
 and her mouth bleeding.. . .a soufflet V The rest 
 of the secret w^as whispered in my ear. 
 
 " Perfectly satisfied with the information I had 
 gleaned, I wished the discreet porter good morn- 
 ing, and made my way to the door to which I had 
 been directed. The staircase was hung with por- 
 traits of parliamentary presidents ; and the anti- 
 chamber was graced with a few dusty portraits of 
 some of the venerable ancestors of the family. A 
 young and blooming souhrette inquired my name. 
 I gave her some name or other, no matter what, 
 and added that I had brought an answer to the 
 letter written by the Baroness to the lady on the 
 Quai Malaquais. 
 
 " Five minutes afterwards, I was ushered into 
 the drawing-room, the furniture of which seemed 
 to take its date from the year 1 750. In this old-
 
 THE COUNTESS DE POLVERB. 201 
 
 fashioned apartment, I beheld a beautiful female, 
 about five and twenty years of age ; graceful, sim- 
 ple, modest and timid. As I advanced to make 
 my bow to her, I observed that she was agitated 
 and trembling. 
 
 " Madam," said I presenting her note, " I am 
 sent by his excellency the minister of. ... " 
 
 " A supplicating look closed my mouth, and 
 I stopped short. 
 
 " ' Sir,' said the lady, ' nothing but the most 
 urgent reasons could have induced me. . . .how 
 much I am obliged to his excellency .... I will 
 endeavour to prove my gratitude .... Indeed I am 
 very unfortunate !' 
 
 " Madam, I enjoy the full confidence of the 
 minister. He will decide according to my report. 
 As far as I can judge at present, it is likely to be 
 favourable. 
 
 " ' I feel the importance of the step I have 
 taken. Perhaps, after all, I have taken it too 
 precipitately. . . .but I confess I had not sufficient 
 heroism to brave the commission of another crime.* 
 
 " A crime !" 
 
 " * Alas, Sir, your surprise overwhelms me. . . . 
 I shall never have courage to proceed.' 
 
 " Compose yourself. Madam, I entreat and tell 
 me all. It is your duty. . . .and, after what I have 
 heard, it is my duty to urge you to make a full and 
 candid disclosure." 
 
 *' * I will do so,' replied the lady raising her pale
 
 202 THE PROMISE OF SECRECY. 
 
 face . . . . ' but it must be on condition that what I 
 am about to communicate shall be enveloped in 
 ■profound secrecy. . . .will you promise this ?' 
 
 " I pledged myself to receive the disclosure on 
 the condition of secrecy. In cases of emergency, I 
 often found it indispensable to make these pro- 
 mises, in order to stimulate confidence. In so 
 doing, I conceived that I was promoting the ends 
 of justice. The integrity of a police minister must 
 be general, and not particular. He is justifiable in 
 breaking his promise to an individual for the sake 
 of the public good. I never should have hesitated 
 to have made a promise of secrecy, for the sake of 
 obtaining a disclosure of an intended robbery or 
 murder ; but, I should not have considered myself 
 bound to keep my promise to the robber or the 
 murderer, to the prejudice of his victim : that 
 would have been a strange perversion of the point 
 of honour. Guided, therefore, by what I conceived 
 to be the just principle of my duty, T gave the lady 
 my promise of secrecy. 
 
 " ' I am satisfied,' said the Baroness de Polvere. 
 ' Now you shall hear the story which I have to 
 reveal. . . .My husband is the representative of an 
 ancient and noble family, several members of 
 which have, at various times, discharged high 
 judicial functions. The distinction which the fa- 
 mily has long enjoyed has imbued my mother-in- 
 law with so high an idea of importance, that the 
 fear of seeing it without an heir, has thrice urged
 
 THE WANT OF AN HEIR. 2Q3 
 
 her to the commission of a horrible crime. This 
 lady is not our countrywoman. She is a native of 
 the Greek islands, where her husband married her 
 during one of his voyages : he was an officer in 
 the navy, having thrown aside the judicial robe 
 of his ancestors, to fight the battles of bis 
 country. My mother-in-law, as I have already 
 observed, has conceived such an extravagant vene- 
 ration for the house of Polvere, that its perpetuity 
 is the sole object which engrosses her thoughts. 
 She has two sons, of whom my husband is the 
 elder. The younger, who is a captain of artillery, 
 was married five years ago. His wife, at the expi- 
 ration of the fourth year of her marriage, died 
 and you shall hear in what way. 
 
 " ' My husband, before he attained his majority, 
 married his first cousin, to whom he was ardently 
 attached. Four years elapsed. Their union was 
 still unblessed by progeny ; and the unfortunate 
 lady suddenly died. The Baron de Polvere, whilst 
 still overwhelmed with afiliction, suffered himself 
 to be dragged to the altar a second time, in com- 
 pliance with his mother's urgent entreaties. His 
 second wife, my intimate friend, was a beautiful 
 and amiable woman. She also proved childless, 
 and, like the first wife, died suddenly about four 
 years after her marriage. Nearly at the same 
 time, I lost my husband. He left me with two 
 lovely children, a boy and girl who are now the 
 sole sources of my happiness. 
 
 " ' Some time after I had become a widow, the
 
 204 THE GREEK SLAVE. 
 
 Countess proposed a union between me and her 
 son. To me she urged her proposition with un- 
 remitting perseverance, and dwelt with unbounded 
 eulogy on the many amiable qualities of the Baron. 
 Our mutual bereavements led to a mutual sym- 
 pathy, and we gradually became persuaded that 
 life would be more agreeable if passed in one 
 another's society. We were married about four 
 years ago, and the two little angels, the fruit 
 of my first marriage, are still my only children. 
 
 " ' My mother-in-law's affection for me rapidly 
 chilled, in proportion as she relinquished her hope 
 of my presenting an heir to the family. Her 
 ill-humour not only rendered me miserable, but 
 was intolerable to every one of the family. She 
 has caused a separation between her younger son 
 and his wife, and, by representing that my brother- 
 in-law was shewing improper attentions to me, 
 she has raised a barrier of dissension between her 
 two sons. But even this conduct, odious as it is, 
 is innocent in comparison with the crimes of which 
 she is guilty. 
 
 " * When she quitted Greece, to come to France, 
 she brought with her, a female servant, or rather a 
 slave, who was present at her birth. This woman, 
 whose name is Panchiera, and who is no less 
 malignant and ill-tempered than her mistress, fell 
 ill about six months ago. Her disorder was of 
 so infectious a nature that no one could approach 
 her without danger. Every one fled from her, 
 even the Countess, whose imprudence in thus
 
 HUMANITY OF THE COUNTESS. 205 
 
 abandoning her can only be accounted for by the 
 apparent certainty of Panchiera's approaching end. 
 
 " ' I alone,' continued the lady, blushing to 
 tell of her own goodness, ' I alone obeyed the 
 precept set down in the Holy Gospel. I dis- 
 charged, day and night, at the bed-side of the 
 miserable invalid, the duties which religion im- 
 poses on us. The gratitude she manifested for 
 my attentions, roused the jealousy of her imperious 
 mistress, who vented upon her all the bitterness of 
 her displeasure. Panchiera became convalescent, 
 to the surprise of every one, even of the doctors 
 who were prescribing for her ; and the circum- 
 stance was attributed wholly to my attentions. 
 However, after the lapse of a day or two, an 
 unaccountable change took place. Panchiera's 
 disorder manifested the most fatal symptoms ; — 
 her death was pronounced to be inevitable. 
 
 *' ' Worn out with watching, and assured that 
 all further attendance on the patient must be un- 
 availing, I retired to bed. It happened to be 
 my mother-in-law's fdte day, and she went to 
 hear mass at Saint-Etienne-du-Mont. On leaving 
 home, she gave strict orders that no one should 
 enter the chamber of Panchiera, whom she sup- 
 posed to be in the agonies of death. But no 
 sooner had the Countess crossed the threshold 
 of the door, than Panchiera sent to me Pauline, 
 (the girl who shewed you in just now) to entreat 
 that I would go to her immediately, as the pre-
 
 20G A DEATH-BED DISCLOSURE. 
 
 servation of my life depended on her speaking 
 to me before she breathed her last. 
 
 " ' Pauline, in breathless haste, delivered to me 
 the message, and I immediately rose and hurried 
 to the chamber of the dying woman. The Greek 
 then related to me some extraordinary particulars 
 which I will briefly communicate to you. 
 
 " ' My mother-in-law, who has been from her 
 childhood acquainted with the secret of preparing 
 deadly poison, has availed herself of this art to ter- 
 minate the existence of two of her son's wives, who 
 had proved childless. I too am to pay the forfeit 
 of my life if, in the course of the present year, 
 I do not present my husband with an heir. Pan- 
 chiera wound up this horrible disclosure by adding 
 that, in spite of her gratitude for my attentions, 
 she could never have determined to warn me of 
 my danger, but that her mistress, fearing her 
 indiscretion, had administered to her a poisonous 
 draught, of the effects of which, she was then 
 dying. 
 
 " ' I die' said the Greek, ' not of my disorder, 
 but by her malice. This is the recompence of 
 my faithful services. Alas ! mutual crimes are 
 never a security between two criminals.' 
 
 " ' The wretched woman furnished me with abun- 
 dance of information in corroboration of her state- 
 ment. She described to me the seals which closed 
 the bottles containing the fatal powders and liquors, 
 and she, moreover, gave me the receipt of an
 
 SECRET PRISONS. 207 
 
 infallible antidote against poison. She then bade 
 me farewell, and entreated that I would leave her, 
 lest I should excite the suspicion of my mother-in- 
 law. I returned to my own apartment, and I 
 had not finished my prayers, when the Countess 
 returned from mass. She immediately flew to 
 the chamber of the old Greek. She found her 
 in the agonies of death, with the rattles in her 
 throat. A confessor was sent for ; but, before 
 he arrived, the soul of Panchiera had fled from 
 its mortal abode, and was arraigned at that tri- 
 bunal at which we must all sooner or later render 
 our account. 
 
 " ' My mother-in-law was but little grieved at a 
 loss which she might have been expected to feel 
 deeply. Every one in the house was astonished 
 at her indifference, except Pauline and myself. A 
 week elapsed, and, at the expiration of that time, I 
 had sufficiently recovered my self-command to 
 brave the scrutinizing gaze of the Countess. Ne- 
 vertheless, I feared her, and was constantly in 
 dread of some attempt on my life. As a first 
 precaution, I thought it advisable to feign preg- 
 nancy, and, at the same time, I sent a note to one 
 of the first apothecaries in Paris, requesting him to 
 make up the antidote of which I furnished the 
 receipt. 
 
 " ' One morning, about a fortnight ago, the 
 Countess came to my chamber. I observed that 
 she was pale and agitated. She had in her hand a
 
 208 THE ANTIDOTE. 
 
 little box, carefully wrapped up in a piece of green 
 paper. . . .You see, Sir, I am acquainting you with 
 the most minute particulars/ 
 
 " You are right. Madam, replied I, for my 
 curiosity was highly excited by her story, which 
 every moment became more and more interesting. 
 By this sort of precision, long and fruitless legal 
 details are frequently avoided. But pray proceed. 
 
 *' ' Well Sir,' resumed the Baroness, ' as soon 
 as I observed the form of the box, and the peculiar 
 way in which the envelope was put round it, 
 I was seized with alarm and inquietude. But 
 I summoned sufficient presence of mind to repress 
 my feelings, and I waited calmly to hear what my 
 mother-in-law wished to say to me. 
 
 " ' My dear child,' she said, in the kindest 
 tone of voice she could assume, ' I am almost 
 disposed to be angry with you. Is it possible that 
 the respect you owe me, the reciprocal affection 
 existing between us, the title of daughter which I 
 felt such happiness in conferring on you — have 
 not rendered you proof against the insinuations 
 of that creature, Panchiera. That vile woman 
 cherished a guilty attachment for my poor hus- 
 band, for the space of forty years. She was the 
 cause of great unhappiness to me, and she prac- 
 tised upon me a thousand odious deceptions. You 
 knew nothing of this ; but, nevertheless, you have 
 been much too credulous. Why not have dis- 
 closed the whole to me immediately ? My candid
 
 AN ARTFUL DEFENCE. 209 
 
 explanation would have banished all distrust from 
 your mind.' 
 
 " I listened with profound attention. Every 
 word which fell from my mother-in-law, served to 
 guide me in the course I was to pursue. I could 
 not but wonder at the artful scheme she had 
 planned for her defence ; plausibly accusing Pan- 
 chiera, whom she suspected of having accused 
 her ; and then the well-feigned kindness of her 
 manner was calculated to banish every doubt of 
 her sincerity. At length, she paused, and I saw that 
 a prompt reply would be more satisfactory than 
 silence. 
 
 " Really, Madam," said I, with a forced smile, 
 " your imagination appears to have taken a strange 
 flight. I know nothing of any secrets that may 
 have existed between Panchiera and you .... I 
 know no " 
 
 " ' Stay, child, you may spare yourself a vio- 
 lation of truth. This box, which was brought 
 here by an apothecary's lad, was delivered to 
 me by mistake, under the supposition that I was 
 the person who had ordered it. It contains an 
 infallible antidote against the effects of poison. 
 The secret of compounding it was heretofore known 
 in France to two persons only. One is now no 
 more. God rest her soul, deeply as she has 
 injured me ! The other person is myself. The 
 secret is now divulged to the world.' 
 
 VOL. I. p
 
 210 THE FAMILY SECRET. 
 
 " And where is the harm, Madam, if the dis- 
 closure be beneficial to mankind ?" 
 
 " ' It was a family treasure. In the event 
 of any reverse of fortune, this secret would have 
 been a sure source of wealth to us. I certainly 
 have reason to complain of being thus robbed 
 of that which was my rightful property.' 
 
 " Could I have imagined ? 
 
 " ' You ought to have reposed confidence in 
 your second mother ; instead of which, you have 
 given credit to odious allegations and calumnies.' 
 
 ** I retained my presence of mind, and cau- 
 tiously concealed my secret. In vain did my 
 mother-in-law try every stratagem to put me off 
 my guard. I continued mute. The Countess 
 complained bitterly, and, finding that she could 
 extort nothing from me, she went in quest of 
 my waiting maid, Pauline. The poor girl, being 
 taken by surprise, and closely pressed by the 
 artful interrogatories of the Countess, confessed 
 that Panchiera, shortly before her death, had re- 
 quested to see me, and that I had had an interview 
 with her ; but that she (Pauline) knew nothing 
 of what had passed between us. 
 
 " Thus, by a mixture of truth and falsehood, 
 Pauline mitigated the sort of moral torture under 
 which my mother-in-law was suffering, whilst, at 
 the same time, it did not diminish her anxiety. 
 Pauline came to me afterwards to beg pardon
 
 A TROUBLED CONSCIENCE. 211 
 
 for her imprudence. I was very sorry for what 
 she had said ; and I felt it the more necessary 
 to hold myself on the defensive. 
 
 '* My husband, his brother, their father and 
 their uncle are all absent in the country. About 
 six days ago, my mother-in-law paid me a visit. 
 She had not spoken to me since the scene of 
 which I have just related to you the particulars, 
 except perhaps when we were seated at our meals, 
 and just for the sake of keeping up appearances to 
 the servants. On entering my apartment, she 
 said to me : 
 
 ** ' My dear daughter, is it possible that you 
 can still believe me to be guilty of the crime 
 of murder ?' 
 
 " I declared that such a supposition was the 
 most distant from my mind. 
 
 " ' Come, come,' said she, * confess the truth 
 ....I know all. Pauline evinces the candour 
 which you ought to observe ; whilst you maintain 
 that silence which would be justifiable only in her.* 
 
 " Piqued by this comparison, I said : Madam, 
 you have laboured so hard to excite suspicion, that 
 I presume Pauline conceived she was obliging 
 you. 
 
 " ' Confess all you know ; then perhaps ' 
 
 " What? 
 
 " ' You do not know me. I am not like you, 
 a frivolous Frenchwoman. The perpetuation of 
 my family is the object dearest to my heart. 
 
 p 2
 
 212 THE SLEEP-WALKER. 
 
 There is nothing which I would not sacrifice to 
 it ... , We may arrange this matter .... A childless 
 marriage may be dissolved.' 
 
 " Ah, Madam! I exclaimed, w^hat a confession 
 has escaped you ! 
 
 " ' And you, also, it would appear have been 
 thrown off your guard ; for, since you attach this 
 double meaning to my words, I can easily guess 
 to what you wish to make them apply.' 
 
 " I saw my mistake, and remained silent. My 
 mother-in-law left me. She was evidently much 
 irritated. That same evening, I went to pay a 
 visit to a lady of my acquaintance. I returned 
 home about midnight. Pauline sat up for me 
 in the porter's room. She was preparing to light 
 me up stairs when, on passing my mother-in-law's 
 apartment, which was on the ground floor, we saw 
 the door opened. To our infinite astonishment, 
 my mother-in-law came out of the room in her 
 night dress, and holding a lighted candle in her 
 hand. She advanced towards us, and I became 
 alarmed, expecting some violent scene. But wiiat 
 was our amazement to see her gUde past us gently 
 and ascend the staircase? 
 
 " Is she walking in her sleep ? I mentally 
 ejaculated. She is, ...there can be no doubt 
 of it. Where can she be going ? We followed 
 her. She ascended to the first story, and, without 
 stopping, proceeded to the story above. There 
 is then a wider stair case leading to the attics,
 
 THE MYSTERIOUS PANEL. 213 
 
 which she ascended, we still following her. She 
 passed through the corridor communicating with 
 the chamber of the deceased Panchiera. She had 
 the key of this room, w^hich we had not previously- 
 perceived. Having unlocked the door, she entered, 
 and advanced to the further end of the room, 
 where we saw her draw aside the tapestry. Be- 
 hind the tapestry there was a panel, wiiich opened 
 like a door, forming a sort of closet, and we 
 saw within it several bottles and earthern vases 
 containing liquids. My mother-in-law took one 
 of the bottles in her hand, examined it closely, 
 holding it between her and the candle, and, with 
 a malignant smile, she said : 
 
 " ' She will not survive this !" 
 
 *' ' She then closed the panel and drew the 
 tapestry together. We stepped softly into 
 a corner of the corridor. Having carefully 
 locked the door, she proceeded down stairs 
 with a firm step. I followed her as far as my 
 own apartment, into which I flew to conceal 
 myself. I was almost bewildered at what I had 
 witnessed. Pauline remained with me all night. 
 This morning, my mother-in-law has departed 
 for her country seat. She set off early without 
 seeing me ; but she left a kind and urgent invi- 
 tation for me to follow her. Ah ! by so doing, 
 I should consign myself to a certain and horrible 
 death. 
 
 " ' This affair almost deprives me of reason. I
 
 214 RIGID EXAMINATION. 
 
 know not what course to pursue. I cannot prevail 
 on myself to compromise my husband's family ; 
 and yet I know not by what other means I can 
 secure my own safety. In this dilemma, I thought 
 of appealing to the aid of our Minister of Police. 
 The time is approaching when I must either join 
 my mother-in-law, or come to an open rupture 
 with her, by explaining the grounds of my refusal. 
 I, therefore, determined to address myself to the 
 Duke of Otranto, and I wrote that letter, which 
 you have brought with you.' 
 
 " You may easily conceive, gentlemen," pur- 
 sued Fouche, " that I listened with deep interest 
 to this extraordinary statement. The lady, w^hose 
 name I have not mentioned, (that by which I have 
 designated her, being fictitious,) related the story in 
 so artless and simple a manner, that every word bore 
 the impress of truth. I endeavoured to console her, 
 and to banish her alarm by the assurance that 
 the Duke of Otranto would do every thing re- 
 quisite to ensure her safety. I subjected the 
 waiting maid to a rigid examination ; and the 
 result w^as, that every word of her evidence con- 
 firmed the statement of her mistress. I made a 
 visit to the chamber which had been occupied by 
 the deceased Greek servant, and I examined the 
 tapestry and the panel. The latter opened by a 
 secret spring, w^hich, however, was easily dis- 
 covered, and I then saw the bottles and jars 
 filled with the deleterious substances. Having
 
 THE CRIMINAL PUNISHED. 215 
 
 explored as far as I thought requisite, 1 took my 
 leave of the lady, promising that in less than eight 
 and forty hours, the affair should be settled. 
 
 " I went straight to the Emperor, and related 
 the whole to him. 
 
 " ' Let that wicked old woman be immediately 
 arrested and brought to trial,' said he. 
 
 " Sire, that would bring disgrace on an ho- 
 nourable family. 
 
 " ' Would you leave such atrocious crimes 
 unpunished ?' 
 
 " Certainly not; but this is a case in which 
 one of the measures of the old regime might be 
 revived with good effect. Let the old Countess 
 be imprisoned for life. I unfolded the plan to 
 Napoleon, and he approved it. Next day, the 
 criminal was conveyed to a state prison, on a 
 charge of conspiracy. Her husband and her 
 children came to me to intercede in her behalf. 
 I told them the truth, and produced my evidence. 
 They said no more ; proof is an orator which no 
 power can resist. The Countess was not deceived 
 as to the cause of her arrest, and, shortly after her 
 imprisonment, she procured a dose of poison, and 
 died blaspheming Providence. I congratulated 
 myself on having averted the scandal of this affair, 
 whilst at the same time justice was satisfied." 
 
 We all expressed our amazement at this strange 
 story ; and even ventured to manifest some doubt
 
 21G THE DOUBLE LADY. 
 
 of the possibility of such an atrocious character as 
 the Countess. 
 
 " I could relate," said the Duke of Otranto, 
 " a hundred incidents no less extraordinary, which 
 have come ^vithin my knowledge. What would 
 you think of a beautiful young female appearing 
 double ?" 
 
 " Double, Monseigneur ! double in character 
 you mean ?" 
 
 " No, double in body !. . . .Two beings precisely 
 similar, were seen at the same time in different 
 parts of her father's house, and in other places. 
 The fact rests on the evidence of thirty individuals 
 of unquestionable veracity, whose signatures are 
 affixed to the inexplicable proces-verbal of the case. 
 The Emperor, after holding a long conference 
 with Corvisart on the subject, desired that the 
 phenomenon should be enveloped in the utmost 
 possible secrecy. He presented, from his own 
 privy purse, a sum of money to the young lady, 
 accompanied by the request that she would retire 
 to an obscure convent. In that convent, she died 
 on the 1st of January, 1813. The optical illusion 
 of which she was the subject, existed for more 
 than ten years." 
 
 At this, we all laughed, declaring that the Duke 
 was taxing our credulity too far. 
 
 " Well," resumed Fouche, " perhaps you will 
 be less sceptical respecting the adventures of
 
 THE SECLUDED CHATEAU. 217 
 
 robbers. 1 will relate to you a history which, at 
 least, has the Dierit of novelty, for I have never 
 yet communicated it to any one. 
 
 " At the period to which my story refers, the 
 Reign of Terror was just at its close. About 
 midway between Berry and Sologne, there was 
 an old chateau, the owners of which had suffered 
 severely in the revolution. Having saved, from 
 the wreck, scarcely anything but their lives, they 
 were endeavouring, by economical retirement, to 
 recover from the difficulties in which they had been 
 involved, by the ravages committed upon their 
 property. The chateau was consequently visited 
 by little company, and it never was the scene of 
 those entertainments which too often serve only 
 to allure a crowd of greedy parasites. On the 
 other hand, hospitality was liberally dispensed to a 
 few chosen friends ; the family table was plentifully 
 supplied ; and, what was wanting in ceremony, was 
 made up in abundance. 
 
 ** One evening*, on the approach of winter, a 
 noise was heard at the outer gate of the castle. 
 It was a general of the Republic, accompanied by 
 his two aides-de-camp. He had been appointed 
 to a command at Chateauroux, and night had 
 overtaken him in the dreary plains of Sologne. 
 He requested to be provided with a supper and a 
 night's lodging. 
 
 " ' Shew them in,' said the master of the cha- 
 teau, ' they shall be made welcome.'
 
 218 TERRIFIC VISITORS. 
 
 ** The three travellers alighted : their horses 
 were led to the stable, and they were ushered to 
 the salon. Their manners and conversation denoted 
 them to be persons of very low breeding ; but this 
 was not thought very extraordinary, considering 
 the want of refinement which characterized Ros- 
 signol, Ronsin, Santerre, Henriot and other officers 
 of high rank in the revolutionary party. The 
 mother of the master of the chateau, a venerable 
 and pious matron, far advanced in years, conceived 
 such a strong prejudice against them, that she 
 immediately retired to her oratory, and fervently 
 prayed that Heaven would not forsake a family 
 which had always been distinguished for religious 
 devotion and attachment to the King. 
 
 *' Prayer," pursued Fouche, "administers ease 
 to certain minds. The lady returned to the drawing- 
 room, more calm, and with a less degree of aversion 
 towards the new guests. She scrutinized their slo- 
 venly dress, their ferocious countenances; and, when 
 she heard their conversation, which was perfectly 
 in harmony with their appearance, she thought it 
 prudent to consign to their use the best chambers 
 ia the manor, lest they should imagine they were 
 not treated with all the respect that was due to 
 them. The visitors withdrew, and they had no 
 sooner left the room, than all the family agreed 
 that their looks alone would aftbrd evidence suf- 
 ficient for hanging them. 
 
 *' The family in the chateau consisted of the
 
 THE SUPPER. 219 
 
 grandmother, the father, the mother, a son about 
 eighteen, two daughters, the one fourteen, and the 
 other sixteen, an aunt, two maid- servants, and two 
 lackeys : — in all, eleven individuals ; but they were 
 ill-armed, and incapable of any effectual resistance. 
 
 " The officers were informed that supper was 
 ready. They came and seated themselves at table. 
 They maintained an arrogant tone of conversation, 
 and were evidently seeking to pick a quarrel. The 
 prudence of the father checked the impetuosity of 
 the son, who, on one occasion, w^ell nigh suffered 
 his irritation to get the better of him .... During 
 supper, a ringing was heard at the gate. The 
 general and his aides-de-camp smiled, and ex- 
 changed significant looks, which were observed 
 by some of the family. The master of the house 
 ordered that no one should be admitted. 
 
 " * Very Ukely,' observed the general, 'it may be 
 two orderly officers, who I expect will be sent with 
 a message to me. Possibly, they may have found 
 out where we are.' 
 
 " To this, no answer could be made; but the 
 suspicion of the family was aroused. The two men 
 servants were sent to open the gate. They ushered 
 in, not the two orderly officers who were expected, 
 but a man of tall stature and dignified deportment, 
 and whose countenance expressed a singular de- 
 gree of mildness and benevolence. He was appa- 
 rently about forty years of age, and his costume 
 was that worn by the pilgrims of Saint-Jacques :
 
 220 THE PILGRIM. 
 
 he had the rocket and the staff, the gourds, the 
 cockle shells, and the large oil skin hat ; in short, 
 nothing was wanting. As soon as he entered 
 the threshold of the room door, he stopped short, 
 crossed himself, and said in a firm and grave tone 
 of voice : — 
 
 " ' The grace of God be with you, and preserve 
 you from the nocturnal ambush of the wicked !' 
 
 " The solemnity of these words, and the singu- 
 larity of a garb, which, at that time, could not be 
 worn in France without considerable risk and 
 peril, amazed the inmates of the chateau. The 
 good old lady, delighted at the pious salutation, 
 cordially welcomed the pilgrim, whilst the officers 
 sneered at him, called him an impostor and a 
 hypocrite, and said : ' Remember the habit does not 
 make the monk.' 
 
 " 'True,' replied the pilgrim, ' nor does the uni- 
 form make the officer.' 
 
 " At these words, the aides-de-camp rose angrily 
 and were about to strike the pilgrim ; but the 
 others held them back, and he thus continued : 
 
 " ' Surely, gentlemen, it would be better if you 
 would employ yourselves in scouring the country 
 of the brigands who infest it, than for two of 
 you to attack a poor wandering sinner. He 
 who threatens with the sword, will perish by 
 the sword. Heaven is weary of crimes that are 
 committed, and will speedily take vengeance on 
 the offenders.' 
 
 *' The remarkable expression, with which he
 
 THE PILGRIM. 221 
 
 uttered these words, whilst it imparted confidence to 
 the inhabitants of the chateau, seemed to intimidate 
 the officers. The General said, in a more subdued 
 tone than he had hitherto maintained : 
 
 " ' My friend, that term gentleman, which you 
 make use of, and which is so obnoxious to us, 
 together with those emblems of superstition in 
 which you have arrayed yourself. . . .all augur ill. 
 To-morrow it is very probable you may be called 
 upon to account for your conduct before the mu- 
 nicipality of this district.' 
 
 " ' It is certain,' said the pilgrim, ' that to- 
 morrow you will have to answer for yourself.' 
 
 '* * Villain !' exclaimed the General. * I will 
 run you my sword through your body !' 
 
 " The family succeeded in appeasing this angry 
 ebullition, and supper proceeded. The pilgrim 
 eat only a crust of bread and a dried fig, and 
 quenched his thirst with a glass of water. His 
 conversation, which was serious and full of the 
 most sublime sentiments, overawed the officers. 
 They observed a gloomy silence, and retired when 
 they saw the family preparing for prayers. They 
 proceeded to their chamber, swearing, singing and 
 jesting. 
 
 " The pilgrim uttered the pious exhortation 
 to heaven. His improvised prayer was sublime. 
 All the family expressed their admiration and gra- 
 titude, and the son obliged the holy man to 
 accept his bed, instead of that which had been 
 prepared for him ia the servants' room.
 
 222 A MYSTERIOUS VISION. 
 
 " The inhabitants of the chateau were all sound 
 asleep, when, about one o'clock in the morning, 
 the grandmother was awakened by the glare of 
 a brilliant light, which dazzled her. She looked 
 around, and, on recovering from her surprise, she 
 beheld, standing at the foot of her bed, the pilgrim, 
 who by signs directed her to rise, dress herself and 
 follow him. The good old lady, feeling herself, as 
 she afterwards declared, urged by a supernatural 
 power, immediately obeyed. At the same moment, 
 and in the same manner, the pilgrim awoke 
 the son of the master of the chateau, and con- 
 ducted him to the corridor, where he was met 
 by his grandmother. For a moment, the pilgrim 
 appeared to them to assume a twofold form, but 
 the effect was so instantaneous that they were 
 unable to give any accurate account of it. The 
 stranger, then, without uttering a word, conducted 
 them to the chamber where the officers were repos- 
 ing. He touched the door lightly with his staff ; it 
 flew open ; he entered, and the old lady and her 
 grandson followed him. On the tables and chairs 
 were lying rope ladders, poignards, pistols, keys, 
 files, iron bars, and other things commonly used 
 by robbers. The three pretended officers appeared 
 to be in a profound sleep. 
 
 " They will sleep till to-morrow," said the pil- 
 grim, " thanks to Heaven and to the piety of this 
 excellent family." 
 
 " Having uttered these words, he vanished, .the
 
 THE BRIGANDS DISCOVERED. 223 
 
 light fled with him. . . . the lady and her grandson 
 found themselves enveloped in darkness, and in their 
 respective apartments, instead of being, as they 
 supposed, in the chamber allotted to their guests. 
 The impression left on their minds was so 
 vivid that they could not imagine it to be the 
 mere effect of a dream. Being unable to fall 
 asleep again, they were the first to rise in the 
 morning. When they met, they related to each 
 other their supposed dream or vision, and were 
 mutually struck with the coincidence. The gal- 
 loping of horses was heard approaching the gate 
 of the chateau. A party of gendarmerie were in 
 pursuit of three leaders of a formidable troop of 
 brigands. A description of their persons was sent 
 to the young gentleman, and, on perusing it, he 
 observed that it precisely corresponded with that of 
 the three individuals who, on the previous evening, 
 had solicited his father's hospitality. Having 
 stated this circumstance, and mentioned the name 
 which the pretended General assumed, the gen- 
 darmes felt assured that they were the men of 
 whom they were in pursuit. Besides, the gen- 
 darmes had ascertained that, during the night, the 
 chateau had been surrounded by a party of robbers, 
 apparently watching for a signal, which was not 
 given. 
 
 '' The gendarmes proceeded straight to the cham- 
 ber occupied by the suspicious visitors. They
 
 ^24 CONVENT CHRONICLES. 
 
 found the door open, though, on the preceding 
 evening, it was known to have been bolted, and the 
 old lady and her grandson, to their great horror, 
 beheld the rope ladder, pistols, and every thing 
 just as it had been pictured in their dream. The 
 three banditti being roused from a lethargic sleep, 
 offered no resistance. They confessed all, and 
 declared themselves unable to account for the 
 heavy sleep which had overpowered them and 
 prevented them from carrying their plan into exe- 
 cution. 
 
 " The family, surprised at not seeing the pilgrim, 
 proceeded to his chamber .... He was gone, and 
 no trace of him was ever discovered. On the bed, 
 on which he had evidently not reposed, was 
 found an ivory crucifix of vast size and exquisite 
 workmanship." 
 
 " Ah Monseigneur ! " we all exclaimed, when 
 the Duke of Otranto had ended this strange story, 
 " it is one of the results of the restoration that old 
 convent chronicles are regaining credit." 
 
 " Gentlemen," replied Fouche coolly, " I have 
 had submitted to my perusal, the confession of the 
 three robbers, the evidence of the whole family 
 corroborated by the attestations of the gen- 
 darmerie, and of the local and departmental 
 authorities. It is certainly more easy to deny 
 than to believe ; but, if we are to withhold credit 
 from facts supported on good evidence, it may as
 
 MIRACLES. 225 
 
 well be alleged that Tarquin drove Publicola from 
 Rome, and that Caesar killed Brutus in the 
 Capitol." 
 
 Observing that the Duke of Otrantowas piqued, 
 we made no further show of our incredulity. 
 There are acts of apparent concession which polite- 
 ness imperatively demands. 
 
 Prince Cambaceres seeing our dilemma, said, — 
 " People are inclined to regard as mere fiction all 
 that does not appear in accordance with the 
 natural order of things ; and yet I wager there is 
 not one of us here present, who cannot relate some 
 extraordinary fact, partaking of the marvellous, 
 which has come within his observation." 
 
 " That is not my case, I assure you, Mon- 
 seigneur,'' observed 1 : " I have never yet witnessed 
 any occurrence which all the world would not admit 
 to be possible. Nevertheless, I will vouch on my 
 honour for the veracity of the person from whom 
 I heard a very marvellous story, which with your 
 permission, I will relate. 
 
 " In 1807 I was on terms of intimacy with an 
 individual who enjoyed a considerable share of lite- 
 rary reputation in France, and whose fame is not 
 unknown, even in foreign countries. I allude to Louis 
 Sebastian Mercier. He was a very eccentric man, 
 singular in every thing, a hater (for I must be a 
 ;neologist like himself in attempting to pourtray 
 |his character) — he was abater of Racine, Homer, 
 Boileau, and Newton. His ideas were full of 
 
 VOL. I. Q
 
 226 CONVERSATION WITH LOUIS XVI 
 
 originality, and his conversation was exceedingly 
 entertaining. 
 
 " Mercier had been a member of the National 
 Convention, but he had not, like many others, 
 withdrawn, leaving his honor behind him. One 
 day, I was in company with him in the green room 
 of the Comedie Francaise. There were present, 
 besides myself, M. de Cailhava, an enthusiastic 
 admirer of Moliere, and Pellettier-Volmerange, the 
 author of some successful melodramas. We were 
 all engaged in animated conversation, and Mercier 
 said : — 
 
 " ' Gentlemen, I am the person who can give 
 you the latest news of Louis XVI.' 
 
 " You, Mercier," we exclaimed, *' were you 
 so fortunate as to obtain permission to see him 
 in the Temple?" 
 
 " ' I have had the pain of seeing him face 
 to face, as I now see you ; and that since his 
 death.' 
 
 " Since the King's death ?" 
 
 " * Yes.' 
 
 " Impossible." 
 
 " ' To you it probably appears so ; for you doubt 
 all things, save such as are witnessed by your 
 own eyes : but, nevertheless,' pursued he so- 
 lemnly, ' I saw Louis XVI revisit this world after 
 his death.' 
 
 " Where? and at what time?" we inquired. 
 
 " ' On the night of the 21st of January 1794, I 
 
 _i
 
 AFTER HIS DEATH. 227 
 
 was hurrying through the streets to call on a sick 
 friend, when, as I was crossing the boulevard, I 
 beheld an immense multitude of people thronging 
 towards an object which apparently excited curiosity. 
 It was a carriage, surrounded by guards, together 
 with several pieces of artillery and cannoniers 
 with their matches ready lighted. In the carriage 
 there was seated a man, whom T immediately 
 recognized to be Louis XVI. Having approached 
 near to me, the carriage stopped, and the King 
 beckoned me to advance, I did so, and he said to 
 me : — 
 
 ** * You did not vote for my death. For that 
 you may be thankful for the sake of your own 
 peace of mind. I was sacrificed ; and France will 
 dearly pay for shedding the blood, which I should 
 not regret, had it been spilt for her happiness and 
 glory. Most of my assassins will die on the scaf- 
 fold, or in exile : all will be victims to soul torturing 
 remorse. The government will pass from the 
 hands of one set of tyrants to those of another, 
 until, at length, my family will re-ascend the 
 throne, and close the abyss of revolutions.' 
 
 " Louis XVI, having uttered these words, drew 
 his head within the carriage, which then drove on, 
 leaving me astounded and transfixed to the sjiot. 
 Gradually, the crowd dispersed, and, having reco- 
 vered from the stupor into which this incident had 
 thrown me, I proceeded onward to my Iricud's 
 house." 
 
 Q 2
 
 228 VISION SEEN BY 
 
 " Or rather," said I to Mercier, " you 
 awoke." 
 
 " ' I was not asleep' he rephed. * The circum- 
 stance occurred when 1 was as perfectly awake 
 as I am at this moment. I swear this on the 
 faith of an honest man, and I never yet swore 
 falsely.' 
 
 " This story, gentlemen," added I, "I declare 
 on my honor I heard from the lips of Mercier ; and I 
 heard it not only once, but several times. On 
 one occasion, I remember it made a particular 
 impression on me. It was when I breakfasted 
 with him at the Ecu de France, Rue d'Enfer, in 
 company with the Abbe d'AUez, two ladies, the 
 Chevalier Cubieres, and Count d'Escherny." 
 
 " Well," said Prince Cambaceres, " I have 
 heard the Emperor relate a circumstance of a 
 very similar nature, which, he affirmed, occurred 
 within his own observation. It was this : — One 
 night, during the height of summer, the heat was 
 excessive, and Napoleon and Josephine were seated 
 in conversation at an open window of the Tuileries. 
 It was late — near midnight. Suddenly, they were 
 startled by the appearance of a red light which 
 illumined the horizon. The imperial couple be- 
 held in the reflection of this red light, a multitude 
 of persons assembled in the parterres of the gar- 
 dens. They were seized with consternation, and 
 were about to give an alarm ; but the extraordinary 
 silence of the multitude awed and astonished them,
 
 NAPOLEON AND JOSEPHINE. 229 
 
 and no one ventured to approach the palace. 
 In the midst of the crowd, a scaffold was raised, 
 covered with red cloth. An executioner and 
 two of his assistants mounted it : they were fol- 
 lowed by the person who was about to suffer, 
 and who had his hands tied behind .him. The 
 crowd hissed and hooted him ; but he ascended 
 with a firm step, and turned to address the po- 
 pulace. What was the amazement of the Emperor 
 and Empress on beholding his features, to recog- 
 nize those of Napoleon ! . . . . Josephine shrieked, 
 and fainted, and, in a moment, the vision va- 
 nished. Both the Emperor and Empress con- 
 curred precisely in every particular in describing 
 what they had seen, and each related to me 
 the story separately. They were not asleep, 
 and certainly you will not accuse Napoleon of want 
 of firmness." 
 
 This anecdote naturally surprised us ; and the 
 serious and emphatic manner in which the Prince 
 related it, prevented us from expressing any 
 doubts of its reahty. We took it as it was offered 
 to us, and at its conclusion I said to the 
 Prince : — 
 
 " Monseigneur, may I venture to ask whether 
 you have ever been witness to any thing apparently 
 supernatural?" 
 
 " As yet, I cannot say that I have," replied 
 he. " But wait a httle, and, if Heaven should
 
 230 A PROMISED STORY. 
 
 spare me till another year, then ask me the same 
 question." 
 
 I did so, and the Prince granted me his confi- 
 dence. What he communicated to me, the reader 
 shall learn at the proper time and place.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 The Marquis de Maniban — Remarks on the old French Magis- 
 tracy — Emoluments and duties of a Parliament Counsellor — 
 The Doyen's mule, a Toulousian anecdote — Opinions respecting 
 the guilt of the Calas family — Victims sacrificed by the Jaco- 
 bins to revenge Calas — Napoleon's intention of restoring the 
 old Parliaments — His conversation with Cambaceres on that 
 subject — Remarks of the Duke d'Augouleme relative to the old 
 Parliaments — Scheme for a gallant intrigue at the Court of the 
 Tuileries — Base speculations on Napoleon's gallantry — Beau- 
 tiful reply of the Emperor to a petition of the Empress Jo- 
 sephine — Military anecdotes — Secret mission to England in 
 181 1 — Plan for inducing the Bourbons to renounce their claim 
 to the throne of France — Prince Talleyrand's loss of memory — 
 Madame de N.. . . — Unpublished letter of Fouche — Madame 
 de N. . . .'s visit to Hartwell — Her letter to Prince Cambaceres 
 —The Count de La Chatre— The Duke of Orleans— The Count 
 de Blacas — Description of His Majesty Louis XVHI — P^re 
 Elysee — The Duchess d'Angouleme — Her charitable disposition 
 — The Duke de Beriy — His morganatic marriage — His two 
 daughters — Napoleon's reception of the Royal message — A 
 celebrated remark of Napoleon — Explanation of the occasion 
 on which it was made. 
 
 One evening, when Prince Cambaceres had a 
 small party of friends, the Marquis de Mani-
 
 232 THE OLD FRENCH MAGISTRACY. 
 
 ban was present. The Marquis had formerly 
 been a President in the ParUament of Toulouse. 
 He was a man of good family and was distin- 
 guished for his intellectual acquirements. The 
 conversation turned on the subject of the old 
 magistracy, its preponderance, the respect in which 
 it was held, and its influence in the scale of 
 the government. 
 
 Some one present asked what had been gained 
 by the abolition of the sale of offices. 
 
 " Nothing," replied the Prince, " except that 
 intriguing ignorance is enabled the more easily 
 to supersede learning. The venality, as it is termed, 
 was a wise and prudent system. An office was a 
 good inheritance which might be transmitted from 
 father to son, and it was guarded by a heavy 
 pecuniary security. The result of the system was, 
 that a young man from his boyhood devoted him- 
 self to the study of our laws and parliamentary 
 forms. Impressed with the dignified station which 
 his father filled in society, he was naturally anxious 
 to maintain it in his own person. He conse- 
 quently became grave and erudite. He was proof 
 against pecuniary corruption, for he possessed rank, 
 fortune, and supremacy. Such families were the 
 glory of a province ; their names were main- 
 tained with pride ; and they were a nucleus, round 
 vrhich a most respectable body could always be 
 assembled. How great is the difference now ! 
 The Magistrate issues from the shop or manu-
 
 PARLIAMENTARY FAMILIES. 233 
 
 factory. He has an eager thirst for money, is 
 determined to amass a great fortune, and is not 
 very nice as to the means of obtaining it. He 
 finds himself an insulated being in the midst of 
 his family, no one member of which stimulates 
 him by example. In our old parliamentary fami- 
 lies, on the contrary, the grandfather, father, sons- 
 in-law, uncles, nephews and cousins all wore the 
 robe ; their whole lives were devoted to the courts. 
 They might of themselves have formed a tribunal, 
 or at least a chamber. What a fund of infor- 
 mation they possessed, and what a power of 
 applying it to practical use ! If an observation 
 was omitted by one, it was sure to be made by 
 another. If a case had passed through the lower 
 courts, and came to be judged in the last instance 
 by the grand Chamber of the Parliaments of Paris 
 or Toulouse, the decision was as much respected 
 as if it had emanated from heaven. The judgment 
 of those magistrates was so unquestionable, that it 
 was appealed to from all parts of Europe. These 
 extraordinary men rose at four in the morning, 
 and put on their robes of office which they wore 
 until they retired to rest at night. Before seven 
 o'clock, they were assembled in court, where they 
 dispatched an immense quantity of business. From 
 dinner time till evening, they held conferences, (this 
 was called sabatine) and, by way of recreation, they 
 examined the law cases on which they had to
 
 234 PARLIAMENTS OF TOULOUSE AND PARIS. 
 
 make reports. This austere and solemn existence, 
 together with the restraint imposed by the magis- 
 terial costume, formed a sort of priesthood, whose 
 laborious duties, though not rewarded by large 
 emoluments, were amply paid in honour and con- 
 sideration. Compare these venal magistrates with 
 those of the present day, whose appointments are 
 gratuitous, and let us see where is the balance of 
 utility and respectability." 
 
 " Every counsellor in the Parliament of Tou- 
 louse," observed the Marquis de Maniban, " pur- 
 chased his post in the reigns of Louis XIII, and 
 Louis XIV. The amount paid was between seventy 
 and eighty thousand francs. In Paris, the sum was 
 more considerable ; it amounted to fifty thousand 
 crowns. In the reign of Louis XVI, it was re- 
 quisite to give for these same offices, in the 
 provinces, as much as thirty, forty, or fifty thousand 
 crowns of effective security. The interest was 
 tw^o and a half per cent per annum. What trades- 
 man would strike such a bargain ? The salaries 
 of counsellors amounted in our court, to about one 
 hundred and twenty livres per month " 
 
 " There is another circumstance worthy of re- 
 mark," said I, begging the President's pardon 
 for the interruption, " M. de Malcor, who was 
 the colleague of the Marquis and of my father, 
 has assured me that these Jive louis, which the 
 magistrate was to receive as the reward of de- 
 
 k.
 
 EMOLUMENTS OF COUNSELLORS. 235 
 
 voting his whole hfe to his duties, were scarcely in 
 any instance paid. So much for the expenses 
 which the Parliaments entailed on France." 
 
 " A very laborious counsellor," resumed the 
 Marquis de Maniban, " might, thanks to the 
 stipends allotted to the subalterns, realize an in- 
 come of about eighteen hundred or two thousand 
 livres per annum. But, to enable him to do this, 
 two conditions were indispensable ; the first was 
 that his occupation should be colossal ; and the 
 second, that other magistrates should be less active ; 
 for, if all had been equally anxious to augment 
 their scanty pittance, the two thousand crowns 
 must have dwindled down to one thousand or 
 twelve hundred at most. This sum was not de- 
 rived from the state, but emanated from the pleaders. 
 The Doyen of the Parliament of Toulouse alone 
 enjoyed a considerable emolument derived from 
 the letting of houses and shops, situated within 
 the precincts of the court. These habitations were 
 much in request, because, the persons occupying 
 them enjoyed certain privileges ; for example, 
 they might carry on any trade or business without 
 being subject to visits of inspection from the officers 
 of government or the local authorities. 
 
 " You see, gentlemen, how slender was the 
 pecuniary advantage attendant on these functions. 
 I doubt much whether the Procureur-General of 
 the Parliament of Paris obtained in money the 
 interest of the eighteen thousand hvres, which were
 
 236 PARLIAMENTARY PRESIDENTS. 
 
 paid to Fouquet for the purchase of the post. The 
 appointment of what was termed a president a 
 mortier, cost from five to six hundred thousand 
 Uvres ; the purchase money was from two hundred ; 
 and seventy thousand hvres. But then a chief 
 president was looked upon as a demi-god. Even 
 a president a mortier was greater than a prince. 
 The counsellors enjoyed a degree of importance 
 of which it would now be difficult to form an idea. 
 Whenever any of them sojourned in a parish, 
 the local authorities proceeded to pay their res- 
 pects to them, and delivered to them an address, 
 accompanied by a present of wine and fruit. A 
 privileged place was reserved for them wherever 
 they went. 
 
 " M. de Cambolas, the head of an old Par- 
 liamentary family of Toulouse, which had long 
 been distinguished for learning, integrity and free- 
 dom from party spirit, resided about as far from 
 our Palais de Justice, as the Porte Saint-Denis is 
 distant from the Carrousel. M. de Cambolas who, 
 being the senior president of the Parliament, was 
 called the Doyen, proceeded regularly every morn- 
 ing at six o'clock to the Palais de Justice, mounted 
 on his mule, which was a fine animal of the limoi- 
 sin breed. This important personage, before whom 
 the inhabitants of Toulouse bowed their heads and 
 trembled, trotted to and from his house to the 
 Palais, unaccompanied by a valet or attendant 
 of any kind. The respect inspired by Monsieur
 
 THE doyen's mule. 237 
 
 le Doyen was not unmingled with fear, for he was 
 a severe judge, inflexible to vice, and merciless 
 to the infringers of the law. On arriving at the 
 inner gate of the Palais, M. de Cambolas was 
 met by the usher, who placed a stool for him 
 to step on and helped him to alight. The mule 
 then, at the signal of a gentle tap of the usher's 
 wand, turned round, and set off" at a trot to the 
 stable adjoining his master's hotel, where his pro- 
 vender was in readiness for him. At precisely ten 
 minutes before twelve, the mule again started from 
 his resting place, and trotted back alone to the 
 Palais, in the court -yard of which he never failed 
 to arrive, just as the clock struck twelve. The 
 venerable Doyen then bestrided his faithful limoisin 
 and returned home : to the mule the business 
 of the day was then over ; though only half 
 ended to his worthy master. 
 
 " This routine had been kept up for the space 
 of thirty years uninterrupted by any accident. 
 The mule passed and repassed every day twice 
 with the Doyen and twice without him, and with 
 such undeviating punctuality with regard to time, 
 that clocks and watches were regulated by his appear- 
 ance and many a rendez-vous was fixed with 
 the following formula : — ' Rely on me : I will be as 
 punctual as the mule of M. de Cambolas.' The 
 mule was known to all the inhabitants of Toulouse 
 young and old. He shared no small portion of 
 the veneration which was rendered to his master ;
 
 238 THE MISCHIEVOUS DUTCHMAN. 
 
 and none of the boys of Toulouse, though cer- 
 tainly not less mischievous than those of Paris, 
 would have ventured to tease or annoy the pri- 
 vileged mule. It happened that there was a 
 Dutchman whose evil star led him to Toulouse. He 
 was a cutler by trade, and he came in quest of em- 
 ployment, which, being a good workman, he easily 
 obtained. He was a quarrelsome, disorderly fellow, 
 always getting into broils, and he committed 
 some offence for which he incurred punishment. 
 The genius of mischief prompted him to seek 
 revenge for this punishment, not, indeed, on the 
 venerable Doyen, but on his scarcely less revered 
 mule. 
 
 " One day, within a few minutes of noon, the 
 faithful animal was trotting along the Rue de 
 Canteliers on his way to the Palais de Justice to 
 fetch his master home, when his legs got entangled 
 in a cord, which had been purposely placed in 
 the way. The mule became frightened, but he 
 succeeded in extricating himself from the trap 
 that had been set for him, and, turning out of his 
 direct course, ran through several narrow lanes. 
 The people in the street who witnessed this oc- 
 currence, and trembled for its consequences, ran 
 after the mule, and, having succeeded in over- 
 taking him, conducted him in triumph to the 
 residence of M. de Cambolas. 
 
 " The clock struck twelve, and the worthy Doyen 
 rose from his seat, and prepared to leave the
 
 THE LOST MULE. 239 
 
 Palais de Justice ; but who can picture his sur- 
 prise, when, on reaching the gate, he discovered 
 that the mule was not in attendance, and that 
 there was no servant or messenger from his house 
 to explain the mysterious circumstance ! Could 
 any one have stolen the animal ? . . . . Impossible ! 
 . . . To steal the mule of the Doyen of Toulouse, 
 was about as likely as that any thief in Rome 
 should attempt to lay sacrilegious hands on the 
 Pope's tiara. The whole Palais was a scene of 
 consternation. The young counsellors, (prompted 
 by veneration for their respected colleague,) the 
 clerks, ushers, Serjeants, registrars, tip-staves, 
 all were hurrying to and fro and making inquiries. 
 No tidings of the mule lM.de Bertier, one of 
 the presidents, offered M. Cambolas a seat in his 
 carriage and drove him home, where the Doyen's 
 anxiety was relieved by the discovery that the 
 mule had arrived before him. 
 
 " The court took cognizance of this affair. 
 It was judged in a solemn audience, and the 
 Dutchman was declared to have committed a 
 crime of very serious magnitude. By attacking 
 the Doyen's mule, he was guilty of insulting the 
 whole sovereign court of the parliament. He 
 must, it was alleged, have committed this of- 
 fence, for the purpose of bringing ridicule upon 
 the august magisterial body. He was, conse- 
 quently, sentenced to be imprisoned, whipped,
 
 240 THE Dutchman's punishment. 
 
 branded, and sent to the galleys for five years. 
 He, however, escaped ; arrangements having been 
 made to enable him to do so, for our ancestors 
 were equally humane and severe. But, the pri- 
 soner was nevertheless condemned in contumacy, 
 and executed in effigy for the sake of example. 
 The example was certainly eff'ectual for yeai'S 
 afterwards : mothers were heard to say to their 
 refractory children by way of reprimand : 
 
 '* ' You rogue, you deserve to be punished like 
 the Dutchman.' " 
 
 This anecdote, which was told wdth infinitely 
 more point and humour than I can throw into it, 
 amused us exceedingly. Some one of the com- 
 pany observed, that the sentence of the parliament 
 w^as ridiculously severe : but others admired the 
 union of rigour and mercy displaj^ed in the sen- 
 tence. The person on whom the example was 
 made, was a foreigner, and his punishment was, 
 in reality, only banishment from Toulouse. His 
 offence was, it is true, unimportant, and ludicrous, 
 rather than serious, but its punishment was cal- 
 culated to add to the respect due to the sovereign 
 magistracy. Any act, detrimental to that respect, 
 partook of the nature of sacrilege. But then, on 
 the other hand, by what fatigue, toil, and un- 
 remitting service did the judges purchase this 
 respect ! They were like slaves, bound to per- 
 petual labour on the soil ; it was but just that
 
 THE GALAS FAMILY. 241 
 
 the chains which they wove, for the interest of 
 all, should be doubly gilded. 
 
 Allusion was made to other judgments pro- 
 nounced by the parliament of Toulouse, and some 
 of the company disapproved the sentence on the 
 family of Galas. 
 
 " Softly, gentlemen," said the Marquis de 
 Maniban, " softly, if you please.... Do you admit the 
 proposition that fanaticism exists, that it pervades 
 all mankind ? . . . .then, coming to the applica- 
 tion, do you mean to advance that catholics 
 alone are capable of murdering their children ? 
 This, I am sorry to say, would be lamentably 
 unjust, and yet, such is the inference you would 
 deduce. All religious creeds, all political opinions 
 have their enthusiasts, who shrink not from the 
 commission of murder. Take, for example, the 
 Jews who massacred those who worshipped other 
 gods than theirs. . . .the pagans, who, after the 
 preaching of the gospel, wished to drown the 
 christians in blood. Look at the assassination 
 of the Duke de Guise, by a protestant. . . . the 
 numberless cruelties inflicted by the Mussulmans 
 on the Greeks . . . and the attempt to poison Ma- 
 homet ! Would you attribute all these crimes to 
 catholics ? Admit, then, the possibility of a 
 father, not a catholic, sacrificing his son to his 
 faith, and do not heap all these black crimes on 
 the followers of the religion in which you were 
 
 VOL. I. R
 
 242 THE CALAS FAMILY. 
 
 born, which some of you profess, and to which 
 you will all, one day or other, return." 
 
 This vigorous philippic roused the philosophers 
 of the company. 
 
 " What !" they exclaimed, " do you mean to 
 affirm that the family of Galas murdered their 
 son, their brother, and brother-in-law ?" 
 
 " Yes, gentlemen," replied the Marquis, " that 
 is my opinion, and it is supported by the sentence 
 of two tribunals, one of which is the Chambre de 
 Tournelle, of the parliament of Toulouse : this 
 is saying not a little. However, we do not 
 pretend to infallibility ; we may be wrong ; but, 
 to convince us of our mistake, you must prove, 
 by evidence as clear as daylight, that every par- 
 ricide, every fillicide has been committed by ca- 
 tholics, and, that no other religion whatsoever, 
 presents any example of such a crime. Do you 
 hope to obliterate the remembrance of Brutus, 
 of Manlius Tarquatus, of Timolean, of Cresus, of 
 Atrseus. of Sapor, and hundreds of other fathers, 
 who have murdered their sons, and sons who have 
 murdered their fathers, without the pale of Chris- 
 tianity ? Calvin had Servet roasted at a slow fire 
 for debating questions of speculative theology : do 
 you imagine that he would have spared his own 
 blood ? Do not, then, allege that the protestants are 
 free from religious hatred, and, abov^e all, fanaticism! 
 I am well aware that the descendants of the Galas 
 would be indignant if they heard me argue thus :
 
 TRISTAN d'eSCALONNE. 243 
 
 that would be very natural. Let them try to 
 refute me ; it is their duty to do so. My grand- 
 father maintained the innocence of the family, 
 as may be seen in the writings of Voltaire ; but 
 his wife, whose judgment was not less sound than 
 his, was of the opposite opinion. People may 
 differ on a historical point ; especially, when good 
 evidence may be adduced in support of both sides 
 of a great question. 
 
 ** However, the partizans of Galas have fully 
 avenged him. The grandson of the Capitoul, 
 David d'Escalonne, (who was chief judge on the 
 trial of Galas,) was executed at Toulouse, in 1794 : 
 there was no shadow of ground for the condem- 
 nation of the young and unfortunate Tristan 
 d'Escalonne, except revenge for the condemnation 
 of Galas. Madame de Cambon was sacrificed for 
 the same motive, as were likewise two or three 
 other members of the family. The Galvinists of 
 Toulouse shewed themselves implacable. Who 
 has forgotten the revolutionary fanaticism of the 
 minister, JuUien, who was chosen a member of the 
 National Gonvention, where he voted for the 
 death of the King without appeal or postpone- 
 ment ? Let us not be told of the tolerance of 
 the Galvinists : there is as much fanaticism among 
 them as among the catholics." 
 
 The discussion threatened to become warm ; 
 and Prince Gambace'res brought it to a conclusion 
 by observing : 
 
 R 2 

 
 244 napoleon's opinion of 
 
 " I have been accused of being a parliamen- 
 tarian ; I do not deny the charge : I am so, for I 
 exercise my reason. But Napoleon was even more 
 favourable to the old parliaments than I. In 1812, 
 when the Emperor was about to depart for the 
 campaign of Russia, I was engaged with him 
 in arranging some judicial appointments. He 
 was consulting private notes, and he grew impa- 
 tient, for he did not meet with any description 
 which precisely corresponded with the persons 
 he wished ; for he was desirous of being very 
 select in his choice. Suddenly he exclaimed : 
 
 " ' Do you know that you have made me take 
 a very wrong step ?' 
 
 " I, Sire! When?" 
 
 " ' Bah ! these imperial courts .... they are 
 mere half measures .... mere trickery, tending to 
 no good end. I want something better. Here ! 
 cast your eye over these notes ; — even those which 
 have been furnished by men of the revolution. 
 You will see that, in all cases, the members of the 
 old parliaments, or the descendants, are ranked 
 among the most respectable men in the provinces. 
 Do you know, Monsieur Archi .... (he frequently 
 used this abbreviation when addressing me fami- 
 liarly,) do you know that to have resisted a 
 revolution such as ours, there must have existed, 
 in these families, virtues and talents of the highest 
 order ? I do not allude to fortune — by no means 
 .... I know there are many rogues worth a
 
 THE OLD PARLIAMENTS. 245 
 
 hundred thousand francs per annum, who have 
 neither honesty nor consistency. These famihes 
 must have possessed something better than wealth 
 — hereditary honour ! Yes, that raised the man 
 to a level with the office ; now, on the contrary, 
 the office must be made suitable to the man who 
 is to fill it. The consequence is, a miserably in- 
 competent set of magistrates and other public 
 functionaries. Monsieur, in 1811, it would have 
 been wise to have restored the old parliaments.' 
 " Well, Sire, did I not propose that measure ?" 
 " ' Oh ! . . . yes. . . . certainly you proposed it ; 
 I gave a negative answer, and there the matter 
 ended. But, if you thought the measure a good 
 one, you should have pointed out to me its be- 
 neficial results, and have pressed its adoption : 
 I then should have yielded, for I have no preju- 
 dice ; I am anxious only for the good of the 
 country. When I am convinced that a thing is 
 bad, I give it up. 1 can have no interest in 
 wishing to deceive myself. The great advantage, 
 which a nation derives from a king, is that a king 
 is the father of his people, and the owner of 
 the soil. It is natural to be attached to one's 
 children and one's property ; we desire that the 
 former should love us, and that the latter should 
 be productive. To be productive, it must be 
 well cultivated, and the sovereign is a fool, who 
 does not seek to accomplish that object by every 
 means in his power.'
 
 246 napoleon's opinion of 
 
 •* I admired the lofty views of Napoleon. He 
 soared like an eagle over the point under con- 
 sideration. 
 
 " The restoration of the parliaments, said I, 
 is a question of the utmost importance. It is 
 connected, too, with several other questions of a 
 difficult nature, for example : hereditary succes- 
 sion, venality, etc. But, Sire, I added, you are 
 all-powerful, and, were 1 in your place, I would 
 attempt the great enterprise. It would impart 
 irresistible stability to your institutions." 
 
 " ' But,' replied he, ' the old parliaments were 
 perpetually in rebelhon against the royal authority. 
 They made representations, and refused to re- 
 gister edicts. By restoring them, we should 
 plunge ourselves into all the dissensions of the 
 old regime, to avert which, I have condemned 
 the Legislative Body to silence. I will never suffer 
 any pubhc assembly to impede the measures of 
 government.' 
 
 " Sire, observed I, every thing, however good, 
 has its bad side. Certainly, the resistance of the 
 parliaments, sometimes perplexed the govern- 
 ment ; but, observe. Sire, that these embarrass- 
 ments occurred only in fiscal cases. It is true, 
 they opposed lettres de cachet, which nobody in 
 France approved, except those who signed them. 
 With these exceptions, when did the parliaments 
 meddle in the affairs of government ? Did they 
 ever dictate a cabinet for the King ? No, Sire,
 
 THE OLD PARLIAMENTS. 247 
 
 be assured that their independent resistance, gave 
 to the throne more power than they took from 
 it. This resistance was passive and not hostile ; 
 it was, perhaps, a Uttle troublesome, but never 
 injurious. 
 
 " ' Monsieur, every assembly which opposes 
 the sovereign, wins the favour of the people. The 
 one gains in power all that the other loses. We live 
 in an age in which the opposition of public as- 
 semblies is dangerous. Every thing that has risen 
 from the revolution must command absolute 
 respect. Order can be maintained only on that 
 condition.' 
 
 " Your Majesty," said I, " forgets with what 
 facility those parliaments, so dear to the people 
 on account of their resistance, fell, and how their 
 defenders forsook them. The monarch is the 
 only real source of power. The power of public 
 bodies and assemblies is fictitious. The jealousy 
 which they inspire will always deprive them of 
 their power at the sovereign's will." 
 
 " ' This is a subject to he considered. (When 
 the Emperor used this phrase, it meant that he 
 concurred in the opinion of the person with whom 
 he had been arguing.) The hereditary succession,' 
 he continued, ' has great Aveight with me. Heredi- 
 tary parliamentary famiUes would be interested in 
 upholding my house. The more ancient, the greater 
 would be their influence. An alliance between them 
 and me would operate greatly to my advantage. It
 
 248 INTENTION OF RESTORING 
 
 would be necessary to diminish the number of the 
 CoLirs Royales, in the south especially. Bour- 
 deaux, Toulouse, Aix, Grenoble, Lyons, Besancon, 
 Douai, Paris, Strasbourg, Nancy, Amiens orTroj^es, 
 Poitiers, Orleans or Bourges ; these would suffice 
 for all France. There must be fifty counsellors at 
 least, and a hundred at most ; and twelve or twenty- 
 four auditors. The security must be from sixty to a 
 hundred thousand francs ; from one hundred and 
 twenty thousand to two hundred thousand for presi- 
 dents a mortier; the same sum for the imperial pro- 
 cureur-general ; for advocates-general, and counsel- 
 lors, the sum should be fixed, in proportion to their 
 local importance. The chief president should not be 
 required to give any security: — the post would, 
 consequently, be disposable. The sovereign should 
 have the power of changing the first president at 
 pleasure. Nevertheless, 1 am fully aware of the 
 necessity of independence in the members of the 
 court ; without it, they could command no consi- 
 deration. See how our lawyers are regarded now : 
 they are said to be my valets ; but this is a mistake. 
 As to salaries, they should be considerable, or 
 null : — that is a question to be discussed. Would 
 it be right to make fortune indispensable ? Should 
 we not accept merit, though allied w-ith poverty ? 
 These questions need create no embarrassment. 
 Wealth is ever anxious to acquire respect. Rich 
 men will always be eager to marry their daughters to 
 poor nobles, or men of respectability invested with
 
 THE OLD PARLIAMENTS, 249 
 
 higli functions. Besides, if a man of distinguished 
 talent be poor, it is the duty of his sovereign to enrich 
 him. The members of these Parhaments should wear 
 a dignified costume, a general decoration, and they 
 should gain advancing rank, in proportion to their 
 merit or years of service, and this without solicit- 
 ing persons near the throne. The magistracy 
 should be a cul-de-sac, from which the magistrates 
 should never be suffered to withdraw themselves. 
 It should, above all, be raised beyond the reach of 
 seduction, even on the part of the government. 
 In short, the magistracy ought to form a sort of 
 priesthood, which would never suffer any of its 
 members to dissent from the worship of a jealous 
 god." 
 
 When the Arch-Chancellor repeated these words 
 of Napoleon, we could not refrain from expressing 
 our admiration of his ideas, which appeared to us 
 at once profound and exalted. Prince Cambaceres 
 smiled, and thus concluded : 
 
 " Yes, gentlemen, such is the man, who, for 
 some months past, his stupid enemies have been 
 assailing with abuse, and describing as devoid of 
 virtue, perspicuity or genius. His superior talents 
 gave him immense power over all who came in 
 contact with him. He was always peculiarly 
 happy in making a reply. He entered upon every 
 question with a fund of new ideas and views. 
 There w^as as marked a difference as between night 
 and day, in the sittings of the Council of State,
 
 250 INTENTION OF RESTORING 
 
 during his absence, and when he presided at the 
 dehberations. His presence seemed to impart 
 additional energy to our mental powers. The 
 Emperor concluded his conversation with me on 
 the subject of the Parliaments, by informing me 
 that he was about to depart for the army, that the 
 war would probably last two years, and that on 
 his return I was to present to him a plan of law, 
 containing clauses calculated to keep the new 
 magistracy in subjection. He suggested that their 
 duties ought to include the superintendence of 
 the laws relating to provisions and public health ; 
 so that the government, being relieved from these 
 duties, would not be the object of reproach in 
 times of scarcity. ' Besides,' said he, ' I have 
 observed that the people always respect those 
 whose business it is to superintend cleanliness, 
 tranquillity, and the plentiful supply of provisions 
 in towns and cities. This branch of the duties of 
 the old Parliaments tended to increase the influ- 
 ence and the respect in which they were held.' 
 
 " This, gentlemen, was another admirable 
 proof of the Emperor's perspicacity. The accu- 
 racy of his judgment cannot be doubted. Every 
 thing relating to food, to the safety and clean- 
 liness of the streets, to measures of police, 
 to the price of meat, bread, and other neces- 
 saries of life, fixes public attention ; and those 
 whose business it is to superintend those re- 
 gulations rank high i.i popular respect. Fate
 
 THE OLD PARLIAMENTS. 251 
 
 ordained that Napoleon should not eternally con- 
 solidate France. Our country was destined to 
 continue in a state of revolution, as the disasters 
 of the two last years have sufficiently proved. 
 We shall now have no Parliaments. The Bour- 
 bons will not re-establish them. They are not 
 wise enough to perceive that the security and 
 stability of the throne depend on their re- 
 vival." 
 
 This last observation of His Serene Highness 
 brought to my recollection a circumstance which I 
 related to the company as follows : — 
 
 " In April last," said I, " when the Duke 
 d'Angouleme returned to France, he thus addressed 
 M. de Boyer, the grand vicaire of the diocese of 
 Alby :- 
 
 " ' You and your friends are favourable to the 
 old Parliaments ; but we are not. You would 
 advocate the establishment of provincial states, 
 which do not meet our approval. The Parliaments 
 and the States were turbulent bodies, the former 
 in particular. They instigated the revolution. 
 Bonaparte did not restore them ; and he had a 
 keen perception of what would be best for himself. 
 We shall follow his example. The King my uncle 
 (Louis XVIII) never approved the Parliaments. 
 He opposed their restoration in 1814. There is 
 no reason to believe that he will change his 
 opinion.'* 
 
 * Louis XVIII, liowever, did change his opinion ; and before
 
 252 napoleon's gallantries. 
 
 " You see, gentlemen," resumed Prince Cam- 
 baceres, " this anecdote proves the correctness of 
 my prediction. Tlie Emperor, it is true, did not 
 restore the old magistracy ; but he repented that 
 error, and he intended to repair it. It is my 
 anxious wish to justify the character of Napoleon 
 in every way. What false and scandalous stories 
 have been got up respecting him and certain 
 actresses ! Not one of them is true, with the 
 exception of one rather dramatic adventure, which 
 occurred at the house of Mile. Georges. There is, 
 however, one of Napoleon's gallant adventures, 
 for the reality of which 1 can vouch, 
 
 " Josephine had just been divorced, and the 
 Austrian Arch-Duchess had been chosen her suc- 
 cessor, when one of the imperial chamberlains, 
 whom I will not mention by name, requested 
 permission to present his daughter-in-law at court. 
 The young lady was pretty, and, though distin- 
 guished by a captivating air of simplicity, she was 
 in reality as artful as Circe. She made her appear- 
 ance at the Tuileries, at Saint-Cloud, at Fontaine- 
 bleau, at the theatres, and joined the imperial 
 hunting parties ; in short, she went wherever she 
 could hope to throw herself in the way of the 
 Emperor. On these occasions, she could see no 
 
 his death he signified his wish to restore the Parhaments. But 
 he could not venture to take that step. The revolutionary party 
 held him in terror. The Bourbons have made innumerable sacri- 
 fices to that party ; but they have been ill rewarded.
 
 COURT INTRIGUES. 253 
 
 object but Napoleon ; she sighed, blushed, and 
 affected bashfulness, whilst, at the same time, she 
 was always placed where she must necessarily 
 attract his notice. At other times, the lady would 
 stand gazing and sighing before the portraits of 
 His Majesty. 
 
 " Her family, or at least some members of it, 
 assumed the appearance of being displeased at 
 her conduct. The imperial chamberlain com- 
 plained to his friends of his daughter-in-law's 
 unfortunate passion, and the young lady's mother- 
 in-law took up the matter in the interest of her 
 son. As to the husband himself, he evinced 
 the most philosophic indifference. At length, the 
 affair became the subject of court gossip ; the 
 Princesses of the blood manifested their disap- 
 proval of the lady's conduct. But, after all, how 
 could it be made a subject of complaint that a lady 
 loved the Emperor ? Who could be so uncour- 
 tierlike as to blame her ? At first, the affair was 
 merely a subject for joking and quizzing ; but 
 when at length the Emperor seemed really to direct 
 attention to the lady, she and her family were 
 overwhelmed with homage and respect, 
 
 " One day, I attended a sitting of the Council 
 of State at which the Emperor presided. At the 
 close of the sitting, I went to receive his com- 
 mands, and, having taken leave of him, I stepped 
 into my carriage and drove homeward. I had 
 not got further than about the middle of the Rue du
 
 254 COURT INTRIGUES. 
 
 Bac, when I was overtaken by one of the imperial 
 pages, who informed me that His Majesty wished 
 to speak with me immediately. Of course, I or- 
 dered my coachman to turn and proceed to the 
 Tuileries. As I drove along, I puzzled myself in 
 trying to guess what I could be wanted for. I 
 found the Emperor closeted with the minister of 
 the police ; then I was more mystified than before ; 
 I thought that some formidable conspiracy had 
 been discovered ; that some grand coup d'etat 
 was to be attempted. Nothing of the kind. The 
 Emperor left the Duke de Rovigo, and, con- 
 ducting me to the recess of one of the windows, he 
 said: 
 
 *' ' Madame de is rendering herself 
 
 quite intolerable to me ; and the conduct of her 
 relations is still more odious. Her father-in-law 
 is a scoundrel, her husband a mean spirited block- 
 head, and her mother is a vile intriguing woman, 
 by whose art, however, I am not to be duped. 
 
 As to Madame de herself, her conduct has 
 
 disgusted me. The abandoned female who unre- 
 servedly puts her virtue up to sale, is preferable to 
 the hypocrite, who, for motives equally mercenary, 
 affects a sentimental attachment. Now, what I 
 want you to do is to call on my chamberlain, 
 who is your friend (I disclaimed the honour, and 
 the Emperor laughed), and tell him that I dispense 
 with his service for the space of a year. Inform 
 his wife that I forbid her appearance at court
 
 COURT INTRIGUES. 255 
 
 for six years ; and make known to the affectionate 
 married couple, that to afford them an oppor- 
 tunity of duly appreciating each other's excellent 
 qualities, I give them leave to spend six months 
 in Naples, six months in Vienna, and six months 
 in any other part of Germany.' 
 
 " I fulfilled my mission. A great outcry was 
 raised in certain quarters against the tyranny of the 
 despot, and deep sympathy was expressed for an in- 
 teresting family, who, it was alleged, were ill reward- 
 ed for their devoted loyalty. On another occasion of 
 a similar kind, I saw the Emperor in a most 
 violent rage. A lieutenant-colonel had sent him 
 a letter, soliciting promotion, and adding that, 
 should he obtain it, he had two daughters who 
 would be too happy to throw themselves at the 
 feet of their good Emperor, and thank him for 
 the benefit conferred on their father. . . .The good 
 Emperor was furiously indignant, and he said to 
 me : 'I don't know what withholds me from 
 having this infamous letter inserted in the order of 
 the day of the writer's regiment.' 
 
 " He made some inquiries respecting this 
 officer, and he learned that he had been a septem- 
 briseur and a friend of Robespierre and Fleuriot ; 
 and that, moreover, he had attained the age which 
 would qualify him for retirement. The Emperor, 
 therefore, immediately granted him his retiring 
 pension. He extended his generosity to the two 
 daughters, who were amiable young females, and
 
 256 THE JEALOUS HUSBAND. 
 
 totall}'^ unconscious of the infamous project en- 
 tertained by their father. The Emperor settled 
 a small pension on each of them, on condition 
 of their leaving Paris and retiring to their native 
 city. This fact reflects the highest credit on Na- 
 poleon. His estimable qualities are not sufficiently 
 known. The sovereigns of Europe were bent on 
 his destruction ; but they will live to deplore his 
 downfal. With him fell the key stone of the 
 monarchical arch. The present race of kings have 
 not power to stem the revolutionary torrent ; which 
 sooner or later will certainly sweep them from the 
 face of the earth. 
 
 " In Napoleon's disposition, severity and gen- 
 tleness were singularly and beautifully blended 
 
 together. M. de L , a gentleman of about 
 
 thirty, married a young lady of sixteen. It was a 
 mercenary marriage arranged by the lady's friends, 
 who dragged her to the altar, without consulting 
 her feelings. She cherished no affection for her 
 husband ; he became jealous of her, and, though 
 unable to fix upon her the slightest proof of cri- 
 minality, he murdered her. He was brought to trial, 
 found guilty, and condemned. He petitioned for 
 pardon, and his friends appealed to the Empress 
 Josephine and to me, imploring us to intercede 
 in his behalf. We did so, and the following was 
 Napoleon's answer. 
 
 ' ' ' Why should I pardon this man ? He availed 
 himself of fortune for a vile purpose of bribing the
 
 napoleon's justice. 257 
 
 affections of a girl. He did not succeed in winning 
 them, and he became jealous. His jealousy was 
 not the result of love, but of vanity. He has 
 committed the crime of murder. What urged him 
 to it ? Not his honour — for his wife had not injured 
 it. No, he was instigated by brutality, vanity, 
 and self-love .... He has no claim to mercy. The 
 rich are too prone to think themselves elevated 
 above the reach of the law : they imagine that 
 wealth is a sacred shield to them. This man has 
 committed a crime for which there is no extenuating 
 circumstance. He must suffer the punishment 
 to which he has been justly doomed. If 1 were to 
 pardon him, that act of misplaced indulgence, 
 and art, 324 of the Penal Code, would place in 
 jeopardy the life of every married woman. In- 
 asmuch as the law positively protects the outraged 
 husband, so it must protect the wife against the 
 consequences of dislike, interest, caprice, or a new 
 passion, which may impel a husband to obtain a 
 divorce by a more prompt and less expensive course 
 than a legal process.' 
 
 " Josephine was urgent in her intercession for 
 
 M. de L , in consequence of the interest she 
 
 felt for some of his friends. 
 
 " ' This,' she said, addressing the Emperor, 
 ' is the first favour I have asked of you since you 
 have been Emperor. Surely you will grant it.' 
 
 " ' I refuse it.' 
 
 VOL. I. s
 
 258 napoleon's simple taste. 
 
 " ' Why ?' 
 
 " The Emperor stated his reasons in the way I 
 have just related ; and then he added : 
 
 " ' When it is known that your persuasion could 
 not induce me to commit an act of injustice, 
 no one else will henceforth dare to petition me 
 for such a purpose.' 
 
 " He was inexorable. 
 
 " Certainly," pursued Cambacer^s, ** no one will 
 accuse Napoleon of being an indulger in the plea- 
 sures of the table. At the Tuileries, his breakfast was 
 laid on a little gueridon of mahogany inlaid with 
 mother o'pearl, on which a napkin was spread byway 
 of a table-cloth. His morning meal consisted of eggs, 
 and a haricot salad, after which, he would eat a bit 
 of parmesan cheese and two olives. He took a little 
 of his favourite wine, chambertin, very much di- 
 luted with water ; and he crowned the whole by a 
 cup of coffee. He took no liquor, but sometimes, 
 though very rarely, he took a glass of wine. He 
 usually despatched his breakfast in seven or eight 
 minutes. When he eat longer than twenty minutes, 
 at dinner, he considered it quite an orgie. 
 
 " He was simple in all his tastes. In dress, 
 he never displayed any trace of vanity. Many 
 of his generals, however, followed the example 
 of Murat, King of Naples, and paid the most 
 studied attention to dress and personal decoration. 
 One of those most distinguished in this way, was
 
 HIS SIMPLE STYLE OF DRESS. 259 
 
 the brave and handsome General Count d'Orsenne, 
 who was a hero on the field of battle, and a type 
 of elegance at court and in society. 
 
 " Count d'Orsenne one day accompanied the 
 Emperor on a reconnoitring excursion. The Em- 
 peror had been complaining of thirst, and some 
 one seeing a vivandiere, or suttler- woman, at a little 
 distance, called to her. The woman did not know 
 Napoleon, or any of his escort. She gave the 
 Emperor a glass of spring water mixed with a 
 little brandy, and then curtsied for payment. 
 
 " ' There, my good woman,' said Napoleon, 
 pointing to Count d'Orsenne, ' there is the Em- 
 peror, ask him for the money. He pays for us 
 all.' 
 
 " The vivandiere blushed, and looked embar- 
 rassed ; then, turning to the Count, she scanned 
 his splendid uniform with the eye of a connoisseur, 
 and said : 
 
 " *He ! pooh nonsense ! Do you think I am 
 fool enough to believe that. The Emperor is not 
 such a coxcomb. You, Sir, look much more like 
 him yourself.' 
 
 " The Emperor was much amused at this remark, 
 and he gave the woman a double louis." 
 
 Count Daru, who was one of the party on tlie 
 evening when Prince Cambacer^s related the above 
 anecdote, said : 
 
 " Your amusing story, Monseigneur, reminds 
 
 s 2
 
 260 THE EMPEROR NAPOLEON 
 
 me of another also relating to one of those camp- 
 following nymphs, called vivandieres. You know 
 how carefully the Emperor preserved his incognito 
 w^hen he was with the army. It was well that he did 
 so ; for he frequently ventured into places w^here, 
 had he been known, he would have incurred the 
 greatest risks. During one of the campaigns in 
 Germany, the Emperor, wrapped in his celebrated 
 grey great coat, was riding about in the environs 
 of Munich, attended only by two orderly officers. 
 He met on the road a very pretty looking female, 
 wdio, by her dress, was evidently a vivandiere. She 
 was weeping and was leading, by the hand, a little 
 boy, about five years of age. Struck by the 
 beauty of the woman and her distress, the Emperor 
 pulled up his horse by the road side, and said: 
 
 " ' Wliatis the matter with you, my dear ?' 
 
 " The woman, not knowing the individual by 
 whom she was addressed, and being much discom- 
 posed by her grief, made no reply. The little boy, 
 however, was more communicative, and he frankly 
 answered : 
 
 " ' My mother is crying, Sir, because my father 
 has beat her.' 
 
 *' ' Where is your father?' 
 
 " ' Close by here. He is one of the sentinels on 
 duty with the baggage.' 
 
 " The Emperor again addressed himself to the 
 woman and inquired the name of her husband ; 
 but she refused to tell, being fearful lest the Cap-
 
 AND THE VIVANDIERE. 261 
 
 tain, as she supposed the Emperor to be, would 
 cause her husband to be punished. Napoleon, 
 I am sorry to say, had but little confidence in the 
 fair sex. On this occasion, his habitual suspicions 
 occurred to his mind, and he said : 
 
 " ' Malpeste ! your husband has been beating 
 you; you are weeping, and yet you are so afraid 
 of getting him into trouble that you will not even 
 tell me his name. This is very inconsistent! May 
 it not be that you are a little in fault yourself?' 
 
 " ' Alas, Captain ! he has a thousand good qua- 
 lities, though he has one very bad one .... He is 
 jealous . . . .terribly jealous ; and, when he gets into 
 a passion, he cannot restrain his violence.' 
 
 " ' But that is rather serious ; in one of his fits 
 of jealousy, he may inflict on you some severe in- 
 jury . . .perhaps kill you.' 
 
 " 'And, even if he did, I should not wish any 
 harm to come to him; for I am sure he would not 
 do it wilfully. He loves me too well for that.' 
 
 *' ' And, if I guess rightly, you love him.' 
 
 " ' That is very natural, Captain; he is my lawful 
 husband and the father of my dear boy !' 
 
 " So saying, she fondly kissed her child, who, by 
 the way in which he returned her caresses, proved 
 his aflfection for his mother. Napoleon was moved 
 by this touching picture, in spite of the heart of 
 iron, of marble, or of adamant, which has so often 
 been allotted to him. 
 
 " ' Well,' said he, again turning to the woman,
 
 262 THE EMPEROR NAPOLEON 
 
 whether you and your husband love each other or 
 not, I do not chose that he should beat you ^ . . . I 
 am. . . .1 am one of the Emperor's aides-de-camp, 
 and I will mention the affair to His Majesty. . . . 
 Tell me your husband's name !' 
 
 " ' If you w^ere the Emperor himself, I would not 
 tell it you ; for I know he would be punished.' 
 
 " ' Silly woman ! All I want is to teach him to 
 behave well to you, and to treat you with the res- 
 pect you deserve.' 
 
 ' ' ' That would make me very happy, Captain ; 
 but, though he ill treats, me I will not get him 
 punished.' 
 
 "The Emperor shrugged his shoulders, made 
 some remark upon female obstinacy, and galloped 
 off. 
 
 " When he was out of the woman's hearing, he 
 said to the officers who accompanied him : • 
 
 " * Well, gentlemen ! what do you think of that 
 affectionate creature ? There are not many such 
 women at the Tuileries. A wife like that is a 
 treasure to her husband.' 
 
 " In the course of a few minutes, the baggage, of 
 which the boy had spoken, came up. It was es- 
 corted by a company of the 52nd. Napoleon des- 
 patched one of the officers, who was riding with 
 him, to desire the commander of the escort to 
 come to him. 
 
 " ' Have you a vivandihe in your company ?' 
 
 " ' Yes, Sire,' replied the Captain.
 
 AND THE VIVANDIERE. 263 
 
 " ' Has she a child ?' 
 
 " ' Yes, httle Gentil, whom we are all so fond 
 of.' 
 
 " * Has not the woman been beaten by her hus- 
 band?' 
 
 " ' I was not aware of the circumstance, till 
 some time after its occurrence. I have reprimanded 
 the man.' 
 
 " ' Is he generally well conducted?' 
 
 " ' He is the best behaved man in the company. 
 He is very jealous of his wife, but without reason. 
 The woman's conduct is irreproachable.' 
 
 *' ' Does he know me by sight ?' 
 
 " * I cannot say. Sire. . . .but, as he has just ar- 
 rived from Spain, I think it is probable he does 
 not.' 
 
 " ' Try and ascertain whether he has ever seen 
 me, and, if he has not, bring him hither. Say 
 you wish to conduct him before the General of the 
 division,' 
 
 " On inquiry, it appeared that Napoleon had 
 never been seen by the grenadier, who was a very 
 fine looking man, about five and twenty. When he 
 was conducted to Napoleon, the latter said in a 
 familiar tone : 
 
 " ' What is the reason, my lad, that you beat 
 your wife ? She is a young and pretty woman ; 
 and is a better wife than you are a husband. Such 
 conduct is disgraceful in a French grenadier.' 
 
 " * Bah, General ! if women are to be believed,
 
 264 THE EMPEROR NAPOLEON 
 
 they are never in the wrong. I have forbidden my 
 wife to talk to any man whatever ; and yet, in 
 spite of my commands, I find her constantly 
 gossiping with one or other of my comrades.' 
 
 " ' Now, there is your mistake. You want to 
 prevent a woman from talking .... you might as 
 well try to turn the course of the Danube. Take 
 my advice ; do not be jealous. Let your wife 
 gossip and be merry. If she were doing wrong, 
 it is likely she would be sad instead of gay. Your 
 comrades are not absolutely capuchins ; but I am 
 much mistaken if they will not respect another 
 man's wife. I desire that you do not strike your 
 wife again ; and, if my order be not obeyed, the 
 Emperor shall hear of it. Suppose His Majesty 
 were to give you a reprimand, what would you say 
 then ?' 
 
 " ' Ma foi ! General, my wife is mine, and I 
 may beat her if I choose. I should say to the 
 Emperor : Sire, look you to the enemy, and leave 
 me to manage my wife.' 
 
 " Napoleon laughed, and said: 'My good 
 fellow, you are now speaking to the Emperor.' 
 
 " The word produced its usual magical effect. 
 The grenadier looked confused, held down his 
 head, lowered his voice^ and said : 
 
 " ' Oh, Sire ! that quite alters the case. Since 
 your Majesty commands, I of course obey.' 
 
 " ' That's right. I hear an excellent character 
 uf your wife. Every body speaks well of her.
 
 AND THE VIVANDIERE. 265 
 
 She braved, my displeasure, rather than expose 
 you to punishment. Reward her by kind treat- 
 ment. I promote you to the rank of sergeant, and, 
 when you arrive at Munich, apply to the Grand 
 Marechal du Palais, and he shall present you with 
 four hundred francs. With that you may buy 
 a suttler's caravan, which will enable your wife 
 to carry on a profitable business. Your son is 
 a fine boy, and, at some future time he shall be 
 provided for. But, mind, never let me hear of 
 your beating your wife again. If I do, you shall 
 find that I can deal hard blows as well as you.' 
 
 *' ' Ah, Sire ! 1 can never be suificiently grateful 
 for your kindness.' 
 
 " Two or three years after this circumstance, 
 the Emperor was with the army in another cam- 
 paign. Napoleon, you know, has a wonderful 
 power of recollecting the countenances of persons 
 whom he has once seen. On one of his marches, 
 he met and recognised the vivandiere and her son. 
 He immediately rode up to her, saying : 
 
 " ' Well, my good woman, how do you do? 
 Has your husband kept the promise he made me ?' 
 
 " The poor woman burst into tears, and threw 
 herself at the Emperor's feet. 
 
 " ' Oh, Sire ! Oh, Sire ! Since my good star 
 led me into the gracious presence of your Majesty, 
 I have been the happiest of women.' 
 
 " ' Then reward me by being the most virtuous 
 of wives.'
 
 2GG THE IMPERIAL GUARD. 
 
 *' A few pieces of gold were presented with 
 these words ; and, as Napoleon rode off, the cries 
 of vive VEmpereur ! uttered amidst tears and sobs 
 by the mother and her son, were enthusiastically 
 repeated by the whole battalion." 
 
 I am a faithful historian, and I am bound to 
 state that this anecdote, which was related in a 
 very interesting way by Count Daru, deeply 
 moved the feelings of all who heard it. In truth, 
 had we not been restrained by fear of the police, 
 I think we should have followed the example of 
 the grenadier's comrades, and have shouted vive 
 VEmpereur I But, in 1814, it would not have 
 been very prudent to have yielded to such an 
 ebullition of enthusiasm. Armies led by such a 
 man as Napoleon, could not fail to be victorious. 
 Their triumphs were always certain, until they were 
 required to achieve impossibilities. Even then, 
 they did not shrink from the bold attempt; and 
 on fifty fields of battle these sublime words have 
 been verified : la garde meurt et ne se rend pas. 
 
 The noble traits in Napoleon's character, are 
 an inexhaustible theme : — to record them would 
 be a never-ending chapter. His vigour of in- 
 tellect, too, was truly great. There seemed no 
 object which did not come within the range of 
 his perception. He was most anxious to rally 
 round himself the different parties by which 
 France was divided. I heard Prince Cambaceres 
 relate, " that one summer's evenina:, when he was
 
 NAPOLEON AND THE BOURBONS.; 267 
 
 walking with the Emperor in the gardens of Fon- 
 tainebleau, Napoleon suddenly stopped, and, gazing 
 attentively at the chateau, said : 
 
 " ' I am not surprised, Prince Cambaceres, that 
 the members of the house of Bourbon should 
 regret the past. ... So many fine palaces, and the 
 government of such a country ! I pity them. 
 Their mourning must now be eternal. My dy- 
 nasty is now firmly rooted. Unto us a son is 
 born V The use of this scriptural expression, 
 struck me as remarkable. 
 
 " ' My brothers,' continued Napoleon, ' are 
 reigning in other kingdoms, (this was in 1811.) 
 I am allied by blood to Austria. To dethrone me, 
 is impossible ; therefore, farewell to the Bourbons. 
 Why can they not see the fact as it really is ? Why 
 do they still cling to the broken fragments of a 
 crown which can never again be repaired ? This 
 irritates me ; and my anger is to be feared as I 
 have already shown them. The lesson has not 
 availed.' This was clearly an allusion to the death 
 of the Duke d'Enghien. 
 
 " The Emperor," continued Prince Cambaceres, 
 " resumed his walk, and I accompanied him in 
 silence. After we had proceeded a little distance, 
 he said : 
 
 *' 'If I were in the situation of those people, 
 I would submit to my fate : and, instead of con- 
 stantly turning my thoughts to the past, I would 
 endeavour to improve my present condition.
 
 268 SUGGESTED ARRANGEMENT WITH 
 
 There are two islands in which they might es- 
 tabUsh themselves without difficulty ; I allude 
 to Cyprus and Candia : one or the other, or even 
 both, I and the other powers of Europe might 
 enter into an arrangement with the Ottoman Porte. 
 I would even undertake the expense of establish- 
 ing them in the outset. I would send troops, if 
 required, and maintain an army there for a con- 
 siderable time. In short,' here he lowered his 
 voice, I cannot tell why, ' I would give a 
 hundred, or a hundred and fifty millions by way 
 of indemnity, on condition of an alliance between 
 the two families — a marriage between the Duke de 
 Berri and my niece, Zenaide, but without the 
 crown of Spain, which shall be subject to the 
 Salic law.* What do you think of this plan of 
 settling all differences ?' 
 
 " The ball being thus thrown at me, I could 
 not do otherwise than take it up. I was not a 
 little astonished at what I had heard, and I re- 
 plied : 
 
 " Sire, this is a most serious and important 
 question. It is certain that all reasonable hope 
 ought to be extinct in the hearts of the Bourbons. 
 But still it is scarcely to be expected that those 
 
 * The Princess Zenaide was the eldest daughter of the King of 
 Spain, (Joseph Bonaparte.) Her hand was solicited by Ferdi- 
 nand VII, but Napoleon would not consent to the mamage. 
 The Princess married her cousin, Charles Lucien Bonaparte, 
 Prince of Mussignano, a son of Prince Lucien.
 
 THE BOURBON FAMILY. 269 
 
 who have once been seated on the throne of 
 France, should wilhngly forego all thought of 
 returning to that illustrious station. Besides, do 
 not their friends constantly nurse them in the 
 hope of a restoration ? 
 
 *' * Their friends are fools, blockheads, base 
 flatterers ! Such conduct deserves the severest 
 punishment. Nurse them in the hope of a resto- 
 ration !' exclaimed Napoleon, striking his foot on 
 the ground. ' How can the Bourbons return to 
 France ? By taking my life. What then ? my 
 son, my brothers, my generals, my function- 
 aries, the purchasers of national property, the 
 jacobins and the regicides would still be here. 
 They know that the Bourbons would wage impla- 
 cable war against them ; that they would pursue 
 them to extermination. Besides, Austria will not 
 prefer distant relatives to the daughter of her own 
 Emperor. My cause is now hers .... If they 
 spare my life, how many years must elapse before 
 they will dare attempt to invade France, and, 
 above all, to dictate laws to us ? Can you answer 
 that question. Prince ?' 
 
 " I shook my head negatively. Alas ! in 1811 
 who could have foreseen the disasters of 1812, of 
 1813, and the inconceivable catastrophe of the 
 present year ? Certainly no one. I saw and 
 thought as the Emperor did. I forgot the seeming 
 distance which, in 1789, separated Louis XVI from 
 that scaffold which he mounted four years after-
 
 270 SUGGESTED ARRANGEMENT WITH 
 
 wards. The decrees of Providence are far beyond 
 the calculations of human foresight ! 
 
 " Napoleon, still absorbed in his idea, thus 
 continued : 
 
 *' ' Well, since you agree with me in thinking 
 that to dethrone me and my son would be an 
 impossibility, endeavour to seek out a clever man, 
 unconnected with any party . . one who can manage 
 a negociation ably. Direct him to go to England 
 and to see the Count de Lille, whom they style 
 Louis XVIIL He is a man of sense, and will 
 see the matter in its right point of view, more 
 readily than the rest of the family. If I could 
 gain him over to my project, it might soon be 
 accomplished. You will be cautious not to allow 
 any hint of this to reach the Cabinet of London. 
 It would throw obstacles in the way. Its interest 
 is to prevent me getting rid of embarrassing, though 
 not dangerous, enemies. This is a delicate and 
 important mission, and it shall make a Prince 
 of him who executes it well and faithfully. . . .Yes, 
 I will make him a Prince. But he who undertakes 
 it must possess address, eloquence, courage, and, 
 above all, perseverance.' 
 
 " The Emperor then proceeded to trace out 
 the course to be pursued. He had previously 
 reflected on the subject ; but he did not see the 
 invincible obstacle ; that which must necessarily 
 overthrow the whole plan, and render it impossible 
 that either the exiled Bourbons or those of Sicily
 
 THE BOURBON FAMILY. 271 
 
 would ever consent to his proposition. The islands 
 which he offered were almost depopulated. Their 
 only inhabitants were Mussulmans or schismatic 
 Greeks, but no Roman Cathohcs. The sovereign 
 who accepted such a crown, must have reigned in a 
 desert, or have had barbarians for his subjects. Be- 
 sides, neither England nor Turkey would ever con- 
 sent to the establishment of the proposed new state, 
 especially if France supplied it with an army. 
 
 " These considerations induced me to say to 
 the Emperor — 
 
 " Why will your Majesty not offer Naples, 
 or Tuscany, the Ionian Islands with Ragusa, or 
 even Venice ? 
 
 " ' No, no,' he replied resolutely, ' all those 
 places are too near France. A sea is not a suffi- 
 cient barrier. I should be at ease if they were in 
 China ; but, in the places you have mentioned, a 
 journey of a day or two would bring them here. 
 That must not be.' 
 
 " I remained silent, and here our conversation 
 ended. When I was alone, I began to consider 
 where I should find a man capable of undertaking 
 the difficult mission which the Emperor had traced 
 out. The result was, that [ fixed upon a woman. 
 You smile, gentlemen ; but there was reason to 
 believe that a female minister would be the best. 
 The lady was introduced to me by the Duke de 
 Rovigo, who assured me she was trust-worthy, 
 whilst, at the same, he extolled her talents and
 
 272 THE AMBASSADRESS. 
 
 address, and added that she had been intimately 
 connected with the old court. The Duke further 
 observed, that such an agent would be easily dis- 
 avowed in case of necessity ; and that she was 
 altogether calculated to manage the business better 
 than even a skilful diplomatist. 
 
 " The Duke de Rovigo accordingly introduced 
 
 me to Madame de N , who appeared to me to 
 
 be very well qualified for the mission, and we 
 arranged the plan to be pursued. She spoke of the 
 Court of Hart well, as if perfectly well acquainted 
 with it, and appeared quite confident of the 
 success of her undertaking. I, however, was not 
 so sanguine. Anxious to learn some further par- 
 ticulars respecting Madame de N , I addressed 
 
 myself to M. de Talleyrand, and asked him whether 
 he had ever known her. 
 
 " * I might possibly have had some slight ac- 
 quaintance with her,' said he, ' but I cannot 
 remember. Some years ago, I was a man of gal- 
 lantry ; but I have grown old and steady, now.' 
 
 " I don't doubt it. But, Prince, I wish to know 
 whether you can give me any information res- 
 pecting this Madame N ? 
 
 " ' You have no idea,' he replied, ' how much 
 my memory fails me.' 
 
 " I could plainly perceive that some artful de- 
 sign was concealed under this pretended loss of 
 memory. I asked Prince Talleyrand no more 
 questions on the subject of Madame N , but
 
 THE AMBASSADRESS. 273 
 
 the bare mention of her name had let him into 
 some idea of the intrigue. The consequence was, 
 that a hint of it was by some means or other 
 conveyed to Louis XVIII ; for, when my am- 
 bassadress presented herself at Hartwell, she found 
 that her arrival was expected. 
 
 ' ' In pursuance of my inquiries respecting Ma- 
 dame de N , I wrote to the Duke of Otranto. 
 
 He immediately answered me by the following 
 letter : 
 
 " ' The lady you mention was one of my pen- 
 sioners, together with Mesdames H- , V , 
 
 Vi , F , L B and several others. 
 
 She is not wanting in talent and judgment. The 
 degree of confidence to be reposed in her depends 
 entirely on the reward she is to receive. If she 
 can gain anything by deceiving you, she will not 
 hesitate to do so. I should think it likely 
 she will pursue her old course, which made me 
 quarrel with her. My successor, who is a very 
 simple man, has suffered himself to be cajoled 
 by her. She makes him admire the stars at noon- 
 day ; take care that she shews them to you only 
 in the darkness of night.' 
 
 * ' This description of Madame de N amused 
 
 me ; but, at the same time, it created in my mind 
 doubt and suspicion. I called on the lady, and 
 informed her of what the Duke of Otranto had 
 said of her. She laughed. 
 
 VOL. I. T
 
 274 THE AMBASSADRESS. 
 
 " ' Fouche,' she observed, ' never forgives any 
 one who outwits him. He thinks he is entitled to 
 reserve to himself the monopoly of cunning. He 
 laid a snare to entrap me, and T made him fall into 
 it. Inde ir<s.' 
 
 ** You understand latin, Madam ?" said I. 
 
 " ' Yes, Monseigneur, I also speak English, 
 German and Italian. You may trust to me, and I 
 can render myself very useful to you.' 
 
 *' Not knowing any one better suited to the 
 purpose, I closed my arrangements with Madam 
 
 N . Talleyrand, as I have already mentioned, 
 
 had given notice of her intended arrival. By 
 some indirect and underhand means, he kept up a 
 regular correspondence with the English cabinet. 
 On reaching Hartwell, therefore, the lady did not 
 meet with the reception she expected. It was 
 at first proposed to send her away without letting 
 her see the Pretender, if I may use the term then 
 generally applied in France to Louis XVIII. But 
 his most christian Majesty expressed a wish to 
 
 see Madame N . She wrote me a letter after 
 
 her arrival in England, which I will read to you. 
 The Prince went to his secretaire and procured the 
 letter, which he read as follows :* 
 
 * In 1819, Prince Cambacerfes gave me the autograph copy of 
 this letter, of which I retained possession until, by the events 
 of July and August 1830,1 was deprived of my autographs and 
 pictures.
 
 A VISIT TO HARTWELL. 275 
 
 *' Monseigneur, 
 
 " It is not without difficulty that I have suc- 
 ceeded in fulfilKng the intentions of Your Serene 
 Highness. No sooner had I set foot in the classic 
 land of liberty, than I was assailed, on the one 
 hand by spies, and on the other by the agents 
 of a meddhng and despotic police. The latter 
 threatened to place me under the operation of the 
 alien act. But I remonstrated ; I addressed a 
 letter to the Count de Lille,* acquainting him with 
 the motives which had brought me to England. 
 He then expressed an earnest desire to see me, 
 and, in compliance with his wish, I was invited to 
 Hartwell. During my stay in London, I had 
 already seen the amiable and noble minded Count 
 de la Chatre. I cannot speak too highly of him. 
 He assured me that England would never come 
 to an agreement with the present government of 
 France. He loves his country, and regrets his 
 separation from it. I assured him, that the obsta- 
 cles which opposed his return to it might be easily 
 removed. He replied that, being a royalist in 
 heart, he had worshipped misfortune as a sort of 
 religion, of which the King was the God, and 
 that consequently he should consider himself guilty 
 
 * We had agreed that Madame N should address Louis 
 
 XVIII by the title of Count de Lille. This arrangement enabled 
 us to maintain negotiation on a footing of incognito, and 
 smoothed the difficulties which vanity or the feeling of importance 
 might have created. 
 
 T 2
 
 276 THE ROYAL FAMILY. 
 
 of apostacy were he to return. 1 could not but 
 admire these generous and honourable sentiments. 
 
 " The Count de la Chatre spoke in terms of 
 veneration of the Duchess d'Angouleme, whom he 
 described as a most noble minded and generous 
 woman. He said very little of the Duke d'Angou- 
 leme. I was aware that the Duke de Berry 
 had contracted a left handed marriage, the only 
 fruits of which were two daughters. Thus, then, 
 the elder branch of the old E-oyal House, tomhe en 
 quenouille, according to the terms of the salic law ; 
 and, therefore, all future pretensions must be at 
 an end. The marriage of Madame Royale being 
 without issue, there are persons here who would 
 advise the Count de Lille and his brother the 
 Count d'Artois to marry again. These are unwise 
 counsellors. 
 
 " I inquired what the Duke of Orleans had been 
 doing since his expedition to Cadiz. I am informed 
 that he is endeavouring to make his fortune at 
 Palermo. It appears to be his intention to settle 
 there. His family, since the time of the Regent, 
 w^ho profited by the operations of Law, have 
 property in the banks of England, Holland, and 
 the Hans Towns, in addition to the immense 
 revenues they possess in France. You may men- 
 tion these circumstances to the Emperor, for I have 
 them on accurate authority. 
 
 " The Prince has, by his marriage, a son, born 
 in October last year, (1810). He bears the title
 
 THE COUNT DE BLACAS. 277 
 
 of the Duke de Chartres. The Duchess of Orleans 
 has, I am informed, just been delivered of a Prin- 
 cess. The Duke has come to a reconciliation with 
 the Bourbons of the elder branch. They have 
 pardoned his father's conduct, as well as the 
 errors of his own youth. He has conducted him- 
 self very well in England, on all the occasions on 
 which he has visited this country. I am told that 
 he is artful, and so reserved, that it is not easy to 
 discover his sentiments or opinions. Let not the 
 Emperor be deceived : — the Duke of Orleans is the 
 only individual to be feared, in the event of a 
 struggle. 
 
 '* On my arrival at Hartwell, a lady's maid was 
 appointed to attend on me, and a man servant to 
 accompany me in my walks : these were two spies. 
 The Count de Blacas paid me a visit. He is a good 
 looking man, and that is all. He has but little intel- 
 ligence, and stilUessknowledge of the world. He has 
 created for himself a little universe, the two bound- 
 aries of which are London and Edinburgh ; and, in 
 his simplicity, he believes the whole world to be 
 included in that space. He pictures France as 
 being in the last stage of misery and destitution: — 
 the people dying of hunger, the prisons full, 
 women yoked to the ploughs, the men all with the 
 army, except the lame and the blind ; in short, the 
 terror of 93 unabated. As to the Imperial Court, the 
 Count's notion of it is, that the men composing it 
 are a set of vulgar, ignorant, profligates, and the
 
 278 LOUIS xviii. 
 
 woQien vivandieres or marchandes de modes. He 
 verily believes that Napoleon daily honours you 
 and his ministers with kicks and cuffs, and horse- 
 whips his chamberlains — that he is hated by the 
 people — execrated by the army ; — that he is ugly 
 and diseased; — that he is guilty of incest and 
 every revolting crime — in short, that he is worse 
 than any ogre in a fairy tale. 
 
 " Nothing can be more diverting than to hear 
 the Count de Blacas express his firm belief in all 
 these monstrosities, every one of which is, to him, 
 an article of faith. He was very anxious that I 
 should make him my confidant, and friend. I 
 told him, with a very grave air, that I thought that 
 might perhaps be attended with danger, both for 
 my heart and my head : that I might lose the 
 former, and compromise the latter. This excuse 
 appeared to him perfectly reasonable ; and the con- 
 sequence was, he consented, though reluctantly, 
 to usher me to the presence of his master. 
 
 " The sufferings which the Count de Lille has 
 undergone, have not impaired his looks. He is a 
 handsome man, with quite the Bourbon cast of 
 features. His fine blue eyes are mild, dignified, 
 and intelligent, and his mouth has a humourous 
 perhaps a somewhat satirical expression. His 
 infirmities have spoiled his figure, and it is easy to 
 perceive that his legs will die before any other part 
 of his body. He has a beautiful hand ; and, alto- 
 gether, a truly royal and imposing appearance.
 
 LOUIS XVIII. 
 
 270 
 
 " His dress is very simple : usually consisting 
 of a blue frock or redingote, a waistcoat of wadded 
 satin, and small-clothes of dark crimson velvet. 
 He rarely wears a sword. When he goes out, he 
 wears a three cornered cocked hat, and always the 
 cordon and decoration of the Holy Ghost, the rib- 
 bon of St. Michael, and the cross of St. Louis : — I 
 have also seen him wear the Swedish orders, out 
 of respect to the dethroned King. A cane assists 
 him in walking ; his pace is slow, tottering, and 
 apparently impeded by pain. He is tortured by 
 the gout. He cannot mount a horse, and certainly 
 a kingdom was never conquered in a carriage.* 
 
 " However, bodily pain does not, in the least 
 degree, diminish the vivacity of his mind. His 
 conversation is brilliant, and characterized by ex- 
 tensive and varied information. His gallantry, 
 too, charmed me. He has read a great deal, and 
 has a retentive memory : and his natural judgment 
 is matured by experience. In short, he is a man 
 of distinguished talent. Before I saw him, I had 
 prepared myself to be amused by his absurdities; 
 but I took my leave of him, full of admiration of 
 his magnanimous feelings, and truly royal qualifi- 
 cations. He thoroughly comprehends France, her 
 happiness, her power, and her wants ; he knows 
 what she requires, and only regrets that he cannot 
 give it to her. 
 
 * 111 1815, Napoleon made an exception to the ytratcgic maxim 
 here laid down by Madame de N .
 
 280 LOUIS XVIII. 
 
 ** He chatted with me very agreeably, and laughed 
 at the propositions I was instructed to make to him. 
 * 1 am not ambitious,' said he, ' I am not eager to 
 reign : and, therefore, I prefer exile, to a throne 
 which would not be my own. Let Bonaparte' (for so 
 he named His Majesty the Emperor and King) — let 
 Bonaparte descend from the throne of France : and 
 then let him choose for himself any one of all the 
 kingdoms he has conquered, except Naples, Spain 
 and Parma, and I will present it to him. But, to 
 renounce the inheritance bequeathed to me by my 
 ancestors, to sanction the crimes of the revolution, 
 to legitimize the murder of my brother and my 
 nephew, to recognize the destructive principle of 
 the sovereignty of the people, those are acts of 
 which I never will be guilty.' 
 
 " I saw that my mission was at an end ; I named 
 the offers I was authorized to make. He laughed 
 at the sovereignty and the millions, and, above all, 
 at the proposal of the French army. 
 
 " ' That,' said he, ' would merely be a prison 
 within sight ; and I suppose that my guards, would 
 some fine day receive orders to carry me and my 
 family to some other place. Such lures may en- 
 tice children. It is like telling a boy he may 
 catch sparrows by putting a grain of salt on 
 their tails.' These were the words he made use 
 of. 
 
 " When I left the Count de Lille, I found M. de 
 Blacas in waiting for me. He put some stupid
 
 THE DUCHESS d'aNGOULEME. 281 
 
 questions to me with the view of finding out what 
 had been the nature of my conversation with the 
 King. I related it to him almost word for word. 
 My candour completely mystified him, and he 
 did not believe a word that 1 said. What would 
 have been the use of taking any trouble to deceive 
 such a fool ! 
 
 *' There is among the emigrants at Hartwell, 
 a man of distinguished talent. I allude to Pere 
 Elysee, who officiates as surgeon to the Count de 
 Lille. He is a man of energy and spirit, and 
 devotedly attached to the Prince. He has every 
 temporal merit without any priestly faults. He 
 is an extremely agreeable man, very lively in con- 
 versation, and an excellent teller of a story. He, 
 too, regrets his absence from France; but he would 
 not return without the King. 
 
 " I have seen Madame Royale, but she would 
 not receive me. Nevertheless, I will do her 
 justice. She is adored by the whole household ; 
 for she is an excellent mistress : she is cold to 
 strangers, but she treats the persons in her service 
 as though they were her children. In spite of her 
 poverty, she dispenses a great deal of charity. 
 The poor people in the neighbourhood revere her 
 highly, and they say that God never sutlers her 
 purse to be empty of alms, for that if she gives 
 away all its contents at night, it is full again 
 next morning : and it is among schismatics that 
 this fable has gained credit. It is she who in-
 
 282 THE DUKES d'aNGOULEME AND DE BERRY. 
 
 spires the family with fortitude and resignation. 
 If she could ascend the throne, she would be a 
 great Queen. 
 
 " Her husband is one of the best of men. He 
 is brave, and full of noble feeling ; but he is too 
 distrustful of himself. His timidity and passive 
 obedience will always be prejudicial to him. Re- 
 specting his brother, the Duke de Berry,* opi- 
 nions differ ; some pronounce him to be the hope 
 of the family, others regard him as a Prince of 
 very mediocre merit. I did not see him, and 
 therefore can say nothing of him from my own 
 knowledge. His morganatic marriagef is an event 
 deeply deplored by the emigrants. I have not 
 seen either the venerable Prince de Conde, or the 
 Duke de Bourbon. They are much respected here. 
 
 " Such, Monseigneur, is the result of my 
 journey. Of course, it cannot answer your ex- 
 pectation. The little I was authorized to offer, 
 
 * He was assassinated by Louvel on the 13th of February, 
 1850. 
 
 t In Germany, morganatic, or left-handed marriages, are 
 those by a sovereign with a female inferior in rank to a Princess ; 
 or between a Princess, and a private gentleman. They are merely 
 conscientious unions, and the children born of them can inherit 
 only personal property, and not landed estates, or sovereignties. 
 A marriage of this nature was concluded by his Royal Highness 
 the Duke de Berry. A veil of respect must be drawn over this 
 passage in the life of the unfortunate Prince. Two daughters, 
 distinguished for their virtues and graces, were the issue of this 
 marriage. Both are married to noblemen of illustrious birth ; 
 one to the Prince de L- , and the other to Count de C .
 
 FAITHFUL PORTRAITS. 283 
 
 could not tempt a Prince who is not ambitious, 
 who can live on a little, who is without children, 
 and who, above all, has right on his side. Had 
 the offer consisted of the crown of Italy, Milan, 
 Venice, Genoa, Lucca, or Tuscany, it possibly 
 might have been listened to ; but, even then, I 
 would not have answered for its being accepted. 
 Now, Sir, how am I to be rewarded for my 
 trouble? I shall proceed to Hamburgh, and there 
 await your answer." 
 
 When Prince Cambaceres had finished reading 
 this letter, we all assured him that it had very 
 much amused us. The portraits sketched by 
 the writer were striking likenesses. M. de Blacas 
 was hit off to the life, and we could not but 
 admire the accuracy of the pencil which, in 1811, 
 had pourtrayed him precisely as he appeared to 
 us in 1814. Louis XVHI and the Duchess d'An- 
 gouleme were likenesses very faithfully described. 
 As to the Dukes d'Angouleme and de Berry, the 
 former had, by his very gallant conduct in the 
 south, acquired the esteem of all Frenchmen, and 
 the latter had been so foully calumniated, that a 
 strong prejudice existed against him. The Duke 
 of Orleans was the object of unanimous eulogy in 
 1814, which led us all to concur in remarking, 
 that the lady had scarcely rendered him justice. 
 However, we were all much interested and anmscd 
 by the letter.
 
 284 MADAME N 's LETTER. 
 
 " Well," observed the Prince, " I can assure 
 you that I was not so well pleased with the letter 
 as you are, at the time I received it. The change 
 of opinion wrought in my ambassadress by the 
 mere effect of the royal audience ; the title of 
 King which she so repeatedly applied to the person 
 whom we looked upon as a pretender, put me 
 not a little out of humour. I did not venture 
 to show it to the Emperor. I sent for the 
 Duke de Rovigo, wishing to screen my responsi- 
 
 bilit}^ and, as Madame N w^as his protegee, 
 
 I presented the missive to him. He was, at first, 
 somewhat embarrassed ; but, on a second perusal 
 of the epistle, he began to discover in it as many 
 charms as its fair writer herself possessed in his eyes. 
 He extolled its natural and graceful style, and 
 added, in a tone of comical enthusiasm, at which I 
 could not forbear smiling — 
 
 " ' It is quite as good as the over-praised writing 
 of Madame de Stael. Indeed, her talent will not 
 bear comparison w^ith that of Madame N .' 
 
 " Perhaps not, said I, yet I fear it would be 
 useless to present this letter to the Emperor. I 
 think it is probable he would not share your ro- 
 mantic admiration of our female diplomatist. 
 
 " An instinct of common sense inclined the 
 Minister of Police to my opinion. We then agreed 
 to say nothing to the Emperor on the subject, 
 until Madame N 's return. The Duke pre- 
 sented her with a hundred thousand francs out
 
 PROPOSITION REJECTED. 285 
 
 of the funds arising from the sale of gaming-house 
 licenses, as a token of acknowledgment for her 
 unsuccessful mission. She returned to Paris quite 
 in good spirits. We then broached the subject 
 to the Emperor. By way of gilding the pill, we 
 informed him that Cyprus and Candia had been 
 positively rejected at Hartwell ; but that if the 
 negotiations were again renewed with the offer 
 of the whole of Upper Italy, Illyria, Dalmatia, 
 the Ionian Islands, Tuscany and Lucca, it might 
 be accepted, with the addition of two thousand 
 millions of francs, payable in twenty years. 
 
 " On hearing this, Napoleon started with as- 
 tonishment, and exclaimed : 
 
 ** ' Are they mad ? Why do they not ask for 
 France ? And I suppose Genoa and Piedmont are 
 to be included in the bargain V 
 
 " Yes, Sire. 
 
 " * Well, then, we will remain as we are. We 
 will not disturb the statu-quo. I shall be the 
 gainer. All Italy ! . . . . Two thousand railUons of 
 francs ! .... To have them touching my frontiers ! 
 .... Why we should hear news of them every 
 day.' 
 
 " ' Sire,' said Savary, ' you forget the resource 
 of conquest.' 
 
 " ' Oh ! if they are to be driven away from the 
 place I assign to them, it would be better to 
 spare the expense of a war, and the outlay of two 
 or three millions which I should have to make be-
 
 280 FEMALE DIPLOMATISTS. 
 
 fore commencing it, and which would serve only to 
 give me a few new difficulties to smoothe. Besides, 
 it is necessary that the compact should be made 
 in good faith, lest the question should hereafter 
 become a matter of dispute. My dear Prince, you 
 are not fortunate in your negotiations. Whom 
 did you entrust with this affair.' 
 
 " A lady," replied I, not without some degree 
 of embarrassment. 
 
 " ' A lady. . . .and pray who selected her.' 
 '' I Sire !" 
 
 ** ' I compliment you. This was a trait of 
 address on your part. You did well to send 
 them a female ambassador. Tt was returning 
 upon them, though somewhat late, the ridiculous 
 mission which they addressed to me through the 
 medium of the Duchess de Guise. Diplomatists 
 of that sort are suited to the taste of the Bour- 
 bons.' 
 
 " But, Sire, said I, Poland still remembers the 
 brilliant political embassy of Madame de Gue- 
 briant." 
 
 " * True ! But the exception proves the rule. 
 And what says your ambassadress of the people at 
 Hartwell?' 
 
 " Savary now thought it was his turn to speak. 
 
 He informed the Emperor that Madame N 
 
 had described the Pretender as being an affable 
 old gentleman in his dotage ; that his brother was 
 completely forgotten, being, in consequence of his
 
 A WELL-KNOWN REMARK. 287 
 
 debts, unable to stir out of a royal palace in Edin- 
 burgh, which had been allotted to him as his place 
 of residence ; that the sons of the Count d'Ar- 
 tois and the Duke de Bourbon, were not objects 
 of any personal consideration. The only person 
 
 of whom he said Madame de N had given a 
 
 favourable report, was the Duchess d' Angouleme. 
 It was in reply to this string of falsehoods, that 
 the Emperor made the remark, which has since 
 been often repeated, and which was suggested solely 
 by the misrepresentations of the Minister of 
 the Police. The Emperor, hearing so poor an 
 account of the Princes of the house of Bourbon, 
 and so much praise bestowed on Madame Royale, 
 exclaimed : 
 
 " ' That woman is the only man in the family!' "
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Louis Sebastien Mercier — Details hitherto unpubUshed, relating 
 to the assassination of jNIarat — Trial and execution of Charlotte 
 Corday — The source of her fanaticism explained — Napoleon's 
 belief in fatality — His courage and disregard of personal danger 
 — The Imperial Chamberlains — Example of courtly meanness — 
 The gilded weathercock — An ungrateful chamberlain on the 
 20th of March — An anecdote for the edification of honest men 
 — Wise maxims of Carabaceres — Adventures of a courtier from 
 1787 to 1830 — Amusing letter from a provincial lady to a 
 friend in Paris — Missive from an ambitious poet — Literar\' 
 discussion — The classic school and the romantic school — Cause 
 of literary failures and disappointments — Prevalence of suicide 
 — Literary opinions of Cambacerfes — Retif de la Bretonne — 
 Chenier and his Epistle to Voltaire — Napoleon's displeasure, 
 and Chenier's punishment. 
 
 Among the distinguished men whose friendship 
 I have had the good fortune to enjoy, and whose 
 memory is indehbly engraven in my heart, I place, 
 in the foremost rank, Louis Sebastien Mercier. 
 He was a man of eminent talent ;■ — eccentric no 
 doubt ; I may say, even absurd in his endeavours 
 to depreciate Homer, Newton, Boileau and Racine ; 
 but his animated pictures of Paris are radiant 
 with wit and fancy. His writings are charac-
 
 LOUIS-SEBASTIEN MERCIER. 289 
 
 terized by a philosophic, humane and tolerant 
 spirit. His detractors have said that he merely- 
 noted down on the posts the reflections which 
 occurred to his mind in the streets. But this 
 observation is equally satirical and unjust. He 
 was certainly far superior to his antagonists La- 
 harpe, Marmontel and Dorat. Mercier was a man 
 of genius ; they were mere arrangers of words. 
 
 I have already stated that he was a member 
 of the National Convention, and that he was 
 one of those who did not vote for the King's 
 death. I have in my possession some of his 
 autograph manuscripts, containing some unpub- 
 lished particulars relating to the assassination of 
 Marat by Charlotte Corday. I subjoin them, 
 doubting not that the reader will peruse them 
 with interest. 
 
 " On the 15th of July 1793, I was dining 
 at a restaurateur's in the Rue Saint-Honore, which 
 I was in the habit of frequenting on account of its 
 proximity to my place of residence. My attention 
 was suddenly roused by an extraordinary noise 
 in the street, and I saw a crowd of people rushing 
 towards the house of a man named Duplay, where 
 the Robespierres lodged. At that time, no dis- 
 turbance in the streets could be regarded as a 
 matter of indifterence, and I hurried to the door. 
 Addressing myself to a man, in the garb of a 
 mechanic, I inquired what was the matter ? He 
 replied in breathless hurry and excitement : 
 
 VOL. I. u
 
 290 ASSASSINATION OF MARAT. 
 
 " ' Marat is dead. The aristocrats have mur- 
 dered him .... They have got young Capet out 
 of the Temple, and are bearing him in triumph 
 along the Boulevards. They mean to take him to 
 the Tuileries.' 
 
 " All this appeared to me too absurd to deserve 
 a moment's credit. I concluded that the riot 
 was caused by some project for exciting the sec- 
 tions, and to get up another 31st of May. I, 
 therefore, proposed going to the Hall in which 
 we held the sittings of the Convention, where I 
 knew I should obtain accurate information. As 
 I passed along the streets, the report of the death 
 of Marat gathered confirmation ; but I heard 
 nothing more about the liberation of the unfor- 
 tunate Louis XVII. I heard, likewise, that the 
 assassination had been committed by a female ; 
 but as to who or what she was I could learn 
 nothing. 
 
 " The first deputy I met was Augustin Robes- 
 pierre. His countenance sufficiently denoted the 
 agitation of his mind. He repeated to me all 
 that he had heard, and the intelligence was very 
 soon communicated to us officially. I have col- 
 lected together all the particulars of this extra- 
 ordinary event. It was a case in which virtue 
 was driven to the perpretation of crime, by behold- 
 ing a great criminal screened from the punishment 
 of human laws. 
 
 " Marie-Anne-Charlotte de Corday d'Armans
 
 CHARLOTTE CORDAY. 291 
 
 was born at Saint-Saturnin, in the province of 
 Normandy on the 23rd of January 1768. She 
 was of noble origin, well educated, beautiful, 
 amiable, and endowed with extraordinary energy 
 of mind. She entered into the political excite- 
 ment of the time ; but, instead of professing roy- 
 alist opinions, like the rest of her family, she 
 was an approver of the downfal of the old regime, 
 and the establishment of republican power. Still 
 she was too virtuous to descend to the extreme 
 of jacobinism. Marat and his incendiary writings 
 had excited her indignation ; and she conceived 
 the project of ridding France of one whom she 
 regarded as a monster in human form. Calumny 
 has alleged that a liaison of a tender kind existed 
 between her and Barbaroux, the Apollo of the 
 Revolution ; but this is untrue. Charlotte Corday 
 was a woman of honour. It was patriotism only 
 that armed her with the dagger of the assassin. 
 
 " The deputies, who had been proscribed after 
 the 31st of May, took refuge in Calvados, where 
 Charlotte Corday resided. She became acquainted 
 with them, and their complaints afforded increased 
 excitement to her ardent , imagination. Being 
 attached to their cause, she was naturally in- 
 dignant at the treatment they had endured, and, as 
 she could not help them to redress their injuries, 
 she resolved at last to revenge them on one of 
 their implacable enemies. Without communicat- 
 
 u 2
 
 292 CHARLOTTE CORDAY. 
 
 ing her design to any one, she quitted Normandy 
 and came to Paris. 
 
 " Fauchet, one of our party, who was ac- 
 quainted with her, procured her admittance to one 
 of the tribunes of the Convention. This act of 
 courtesy, which was rendered as a matter of 
 course to any one by whom it was soUcited, cost 
 poor Fauchet his Ufe. Charlotte Corday hstened 
 attentively to our speeches, and expressed her 
 surprise at the fury and violence manifested by 
 some of the members of the Convention. She 
 did not see Marat, who was confined at home 
 by illness. He was the victim of a dreadful and 
 incurable disorder, to which the most active 
 medical remedies could afford only temporary 
 relief. 
 
 " Charlotte Corday, having resolved on speedily 
 terminating the career of Marat, inquired for the 
 abode of the friend of the people. She was 
 directed to the Rue de I'Ecole de Medecine, No. 
 44 ; but, as she was informed that none but his 
 intimate acquaintance were admitted to see him, 
 she sent him the following note : — 
 
 " Citizen, 
 
 " ' I have just arrived from Caen. The interest 
 you feel for the welfare of the country, doubtless 
 renders you anxious to be made acquainted with 
 the events which have taken place in that part of
 
 HER NOTES TO MARAT. 293 
 
 the Republic. I will call on you about one o'clock. 
 Have the goodness to receive me.' 
 
 " Marat sent no answer to this note, either 
 because he supposed it to have been written by some 
 idle adventurer, or, because his bodily suffering 
 had for a time extinguished his revolutionary 
 fanaticism. But, Charlotte Corday was not daunted. 
 She sent a second note, more urgent than the 
 first, but which received no more attention. At 
 length, on the 15th of July, she wrote for the 
 third time. In this last letter, she alluded to 
 misfortunes which had gathered over her head, 
 and conjured Marat to receive her, on account 
 of the important secrets which she had to reveal to 
 him, touching the safety of the Republic. 
 
 " The messenger who delivered this note, had 
 no sooner left Marat's house, than Charlotte 
 Corday, who had followed him closely, entered 
 the anti-chamber. She was there accosted by 
 two females, who told her that she could not 
 see Marat, because he was at that moment taking 
 a bath. 
 
 " She insisted, and some altercation ensued, 
 Marat, whose chamber adjoined the anti-room, 
 hearing loud voices, rang to inquire what was 
 the matter. On being informed that a lady wished 
 to see him, and that she was the same person 
 who had written to him several times, he felt 
 a fatal curiosity to see her. He accordingly rose
 
 294 LAST WORDS OF MAKAT. 
 
 from the bath, and, when he was ready to receive 
 her, Charlotte Corday was introduced. Her beauty 
 and prepossessing manners inspired Marat with 
 so much confidence that he dismissed his atten- 
 dants, and remained alone with the woman, who, 
 in a few moments, was to deprive him of life. The 
 conversation commenced on the affairs of Cal- 
 vados. Charlotte Corday, though pre-occupied by 
 the terrible object of her visit, maintained her 
 share of the conversation with great calmness, 
 and furnished the information w^hich Marat sought. 
 She gave him the names of the public function- 
 aries and deputies, who were in open rebellion 
 against the National Assembly, and Marat de- 
 clared that, within a fortnight, they should all be 
 brought to the scaffold. 
 
 " These words were his sentence of death. 
 Charlotte Corday drew from her bosom a sharp 
 knife and plunged it into the breast of Marat. 
 He had no power, either to defend himself or to 
 evade the mortal blow. He merely exclaimed : 
 ' A moi, ma cliere amie V and, in a few moments, 
 breathed his last. 
 
 " The outcry brought his pretended wife, and 
 the infamous woman Theroigne into the room. 
 They beheld Marat weltering in his blood, and 
 the heroine standing beside with the knife in her 
 hand. She was pale and motionless, and made 
 no attempt to escape, as has been erroneously 
 stated. The women, however, placed chairs and
 
 CHARLOTTE CORDAY ARRESTED. 295 
 
 tables against the door to prevent her going out, 
 and then, throwing open the window, they called 
 for help. 
 
 " A man who was employed in folding some 
 hand-bills in another room, was the first to enter. 
 On seeing what had happened, and being informed 
 who was the perpetrator of the deed, he seized 
 a chair, and, striking at Charlotte Corday, felled 
 her to the ground. But she raised herself up, 
 and, with that fortitude which rendered her su- 
 perior to any fate that might await her, she stood 
 in silence, expecting the storm of popular fury 
 to break over her head. It is indeed difficult 
 to conceive what could have shielded her from 
 the first movement of Jacobinical indignation." 
 
 " I will here quote some passages from a report 
 of the tragical event, drawn up by Chabot, by 
 order of the Committee of Public Safety. This 
 report, with all its falsehoods, is a higher eu- 
 logium on Charlotte Corday than anything I 
 could say." 
 
 " When she was conducted to the Abbaye, the 
 immense crowd, who were uttering yells of grief 
 and indignation, dispersed at the desire of the 
 commissioners who accompanied her. She fainted ; 
 but, in a few moments, recovered, and she said to 
 the deputies . — 
 
 " ' I thought they were going to tear me in 
 pieces. Is it possible that these people, who have 
 been described to me as so manv cannibals,
 
 29G CHARLOTTE CORDAY'S COURAGE. 
 
 obey with such docihty the commands of their 
 magistrates V 
 
 " Such," continues Chabot, " is the confidence 
 of this woman in the speedy success of the pro- 
 jects of the counter-revolution, with which the 
 insurgents have filled her head, that when her 
 death is alluded to, she treats the matter with 
 inconceivable contempt and indifference, though 
 she had not sufficient courage to take her own 
 life." 
 
 " What Chabot pronounces to be want of cou- 
 rage, was in fact the strongest proof of sublime 
 courage and virtue. Charlotte Corday was too 
 magnanimous to commit suicide. Chabot adds 
 (and this is another falsehood) that, from informa- 
 tion obtained by the Committee of Inspection 
 relative to the plot, it was evident that the signal 
 for attempting its execution was to be the assas- 
 sination of the most energetic patriots ; — that it 
 w^as hoped, by this means, to excite a violent move- 
 ment in Paris, to arm the citizens against each 
 other, — that, amidst these dissensions Wimpfen, 
 Puysaie, and the departmental troops were to 
 proclaim Louis XVII, to appoint as his council 
 the fugitive deputies, and to dissolve the Con- 
 vention. 
 
 " Chabot 's report was listened to, in mournful 
 silence, though, in their hearts, the Jacobins did 
 not regret being rid of their ferocious leader. A 
 deputation from the section of the Social Contract,
 
 DAVID THE PAINTER. 297 
 
 requested to be admitted to the bar ; and Gerault, 
 who headed the deputation, thus addressed the 
 Assembly : — 
 
 " Representatives ! . . . Marat is no more ! . . . . 
 People ! you have lost your best friend ! . . . . We 
 have come to pay homage to the noble actions 
 of his life . . David, where art thou ? . . . .Thou hast 
 transmitted to posterity the image of Le Pelletier 
 dying for his country . .Thou hast now a subject 
 for another picture.' 
 
 " David, who was seated among us, now rose, 
 and, with his sinister expression of countenance, 
 and sharp piercing voice, said : — 
 
 " ' I will endeavour to render justice to that 
 subject.' 
 
 " Having uttered these words, he resumed his 
 seat amidst general applause. Gerault then con- 
 tinued, as follows : — 
 
 " ' Legislators ! we implore you to make a law, 
 applicable to present circumstances. The mode of 
 execution at present in use, is not sufficiently 
 appalling to avenge the atrocious assassination 
 which has just been conmiitted. Let us annihilate 
 for ever the criminal and the crime. Show the 
 French people the value you attach to human life ; 
 and, instead of permitting it to be thus snapped 
 like a thread, let the terror of torture disarm the 
 parricidal hands which threaten the safety of the 
 representatives of the People.'
 
 298 David's address to the assembly. 
 
 " A warm discussion ensued. On the motion of 
 Chabot, which was supported by JuHen de Tou- 
 louse, Denoncourt, Fauchet,* and Duperret,t were 
 accused. This accusation was the same thing as 
 being sentenced to the guillotine, to which they 
 were shortly afterwards brought. Marat was a 
 deity, at whose altar none but human victims could 
 be sacrificed. 
 
 " In the course of the discussion, David addressed 
 the Assembly as follows : — 
 
 " ' On the day preceding the assassination of 
 Marat, Maure and I were sent as deputies from the 
 Jacobinical Club, to inquire after his health. We 
 found him in the bath, at the side of which a piece 
 of wood was fixed in such a manner as to serve 
 him for a writing desk. Upon it was placed ink 
 and paper, and Marat with his hand raised out of 
 the bath, was noting down his last thoughts, for 
 the welfare of the people. Yesterday, the surgeon 
 who embalmed his body, sent to me to inquire 
 in wdiat manner we wished to expose it to the 
 public in the church of the Cordeliers. He was 
 wasted almost to a skeleton by the disease (the 
 leprosy) with which he was afflicted. I think it 
 
 * I have already mentioned Fauchet's crime : — it was having 
 gained Charlotte Corday admittance to one of the tribunes of the 
 National Convention. 
 
 t The charge against Duperret, was, having received a letter 
 brought by Charlotte Corday from Barbaroux.
 
 MARAT LAID IN STATE. 299 
 
 would be extremely interesting to present him as 
 I saw him noting down his ideas for the welfare of 
 the people.' 
 
 " Chabot moved that the members of the Con- 
 vention should all attend the funeral of Marat ; 
 and Bentabole proposed that the nation should pay 
 the debts of the friend of the people. 
 
 " The impulse being now given, the most ex- 
 travagant honours were paid to the memory of 
 Marat. His friends were so reluctant to consign 
 his remains to the grave, that, before they could 
 resolve on the interment, the body was actually in 
 a state of decomposition. It was laid in state, 
 wrapt in a winding sheet, which afforded the spec- 
 tators a distinct view of the form of the body. 
 Poems were dedicated to his memory by our 
 colleague Andouin, and by Cubieres-Palmessaux.* 
 His bust was executed by Beauvalet,t who pre- 
 sented it to the Convention, and it decorated the 
 hall of our sittings. The same honour was as- 
 signed to David's picture. | An altar was raised 
 
 * The Chevalier Cubieres was a protege of the Queen, who 
 brought him up and educated him. He became a Jacobin, and a 
 disciple of Marat and Robespierre. The celebrated Madame Ro- 
 land surnamed him I'ApoUon deVechafaud. He died after the res- 
 toration. 
 
 t Eeauvalet was a sculptor of considerable talent. He was an 
 enthusiastic Republican. 
 
 X This portrait, which is a perfect chef-d'osuvre, is in the pos- 
 session of David's family. It has been twice offered for sale, and 
 on both occasions, the high price demanded for it, (a hundred
 
 300 HONOURS RENDERED TO MARAT. 
 
 to the heart of Marat, in the hall of th^ Cordeliers 
 Club, and hymns, addressed to the heart, were sung 
 alternately with hymns addressed to the Saviour : 
 this sacrilege is perfectly characteristic of the im- 
 piety of' the time. The Rue des Cordeliers 
 changed its name to that of Marat, the Council 
 General of the Commune ordered a festival in his 
 honour, and he superseded Mirabeau in the Pan- 
 theon. Such are the vicissitudes of popular favour. 
 The mob is ever ready to pull down its old gods, 
 and to set up new ones in their stead. 
 
 " Whilst the ceremonies of the Roman canon- 
 ization were being renewed for the apotheosis of 
 Marat, his friends were anxiously seeking those 
 measures of revenge for which his death afforded 
 them an excuse. The revolutionary tribunal went 
 through the preliminaries of the trial of Charlotte 
 Corday. The examinations commenced on the 
 19th of July, and the accused being conducted 
 into court, underwent an interrogatory of which 
 the following are the principal points. 
 
 " ' Who directed you to Duparret ?' 
 
 " ' Barbaroux.' 
 
 " * It appears, then, that you learned from 
 
 thousand francs; prevented it finding a purchaser. Madame de 
 Morfontaine gave a hundred thousand francs for the purchase 
 of her father's portrait, (likewise painted by David). It was hung 
 in the Hall of the National Convention, along with that of 
 Marat
 
 TRIAL OF CHARLOTTE CORDAY. 301 
 
 the public journals that Marat was an anar- 
 chist ?' 
 
 " * Yes, I knew that he would ruin France. 1 
 have taken the life of one man, to save a hundred 
 thousand .... I was a republican before the revo- 
 lution broke out.' 
 
 " ' Did you not try whether or not you could 
 strike a deadly blow before you committed this 
 murder ?' 
 
 *' ' 1 am not an assassin.' 
 
 " ' What have you to say in reply to these 
 charges ?' 
 
 '* * Nothing, except that I have succeeded.' 
 
 " ' Who are the persons, by whose instigation 
 you committed this murder?' 
 
 " ' The counsel of others could never have 
 influenced me to commit the act. I alone con- 
 ceived the project, and I alone have executed it. 
 It is only in Paris that people are misled by a 
 mistaken opinion of Marat : in the departments 
 he was universally execrated." 
 
 " The examination being concluded, Fouquier- 
 Tinville, the public prosecutor, spoke in support 
 of the charge. The advocate, Chauveau-Lagarde,* 
 
 * Chauveau-Lagarde was the advocate who defended Charlotte 
 Corday, Queen Marie-Antoinette, Madame Elizabeth, the Abbd 
 Brottier, and M. de la Villeheurnois on their respective trials. 
 The cross of the Legion of Honour, the cordon of Saint-Michael, 
 and letters of nobility, (which certainly he needed not, being 
 sufficiently noble without them,) were deemed adequate rewards
 
 302 DEFENCE OF CHARLOTTE CORDAY. 
 
 a citizen distinguished for his virtues and his 
 generous independence of character, defended the 
 accused. The following is a portion of his 
 speech : 
 
 " ' The accused candidly avows herself guilty 
 of the horrible crime with which she stands 
 charged. She confesses that she committed it 
 after long premeditation ; she acknowledges many 
 dreadful circumstances connected with the murder 
 - . . in short, she avows every thing, and does 
 not seek to justify herself. This, citizens of the 
 jury, is her defence. The imperturbable calm- 
 ness of the accused, her total abnegation of self, 
 her freedom from remorse, (though she stands, as 
 I may say at the foot of the scaiFold,) her sublime 
 fortitude.. . all appear to be beyond nature, and 
 can be explained only by that excitement of po- 
 litical fanaticism, which armed her with the 
 poignard. It is for you, citizens of the jury, to 
 weigh this consideration in the scale of justice. 
 I leave the question to your judgment.' 
 
 " Chauveau-Lagarde having concluded his 
 address, the jury retired to deliberate on their 
 verdict. Whilst they were absent, Charlotte Cor- 
 day turned to her advocate, and said : 
 
 " ' You have defended me delicately and ge- 
 nerously ; precisely in the manner I wished. I 
 thank you, and I wish to give you a proof of my 
 
 for him after tlie restoration. However, the respect of all Europe 
 recompenses him for this ingratitude.
 
 SENTENCE AND EXECUTION. 303 
 
 esteem. I have been informed that my property 
 will be confiscated. I owe something to my 
 prison, and I appoint you to pay my debt.' 
 
 " This was like the celebrated will of Eudami- 
 das. The jury returned, and pronounced the 
 sentence of death and confiscation. Charlotte 
 Corday heard it unmoved. On her return to 
 prison, she wrote her last letter, in which she 
 renewed her expressions of gratitude to Chauveau- 
 Lagarde. A constitutional priest was sent to 
 assist her in her rehgious duties. She said to him 
 mildly : 
 
 " ' Thank those who sent you for their atten- 
 tions to me ; but I do not require your aid.' 
 
 " As she proceeded to the place of execution, 
 a placid smile played on her lips, notwithstanding 
 the insults with which the populace overwhelmed 
 her. It is recorded in the Moniteur that, when 
 she mounted the scaff'old, her countenance re- 
 tained its natural freshness of colour, and her 
 whole appearance denoted a mind undisturbed. 
 When the guillotine had performed its horrid task, 
 a man named Legros, seized the head of the 
 culprit to exhibit it to the people, and, in doing 
 so, struck it several blows. This revolting out- 
 rage excited the murmurs of the spectators, and 
 Legros was punished by the Tribunal of Police." 
 
 The above are the curious details given by 
 Mercier on this interesting subject. 
 
 One evening, at the Arch-Chancellor's, the
 
 304 THE GIRL, RENAUD. 
 
 conversation happened to turn on Charlotte Cor- 
 day, and his Excellency informed us that, having 
 a strong wish to see that extraordinary woman, 
 he attended the Revolutionary Tribunal during her 
 trial. He was struck with her beauty, her energy, 
 and her resignation. She heard with contemp- 
 tuous indifference the reproaches which Fouquier- 
 Tinville heaped upon her. She stood in a simple 
 and unaffected attitude, with her head cast down. 
 After her condemnation, her mind was entirely 
 withdrawn from worldly subjects ; — yet, she shewed 
 no visible observance of religion. 
 
 Prince Cambaceres was of opinion that Char- 
 lotte Corday's mind had been deranged by reading 
 the writings of Voltaire and the encyclopedists. 
 She was a philosopher and a republican. She dis- 
 dained the observance of the religious worship, in 
 which she had been brought up. Some have 
 described her as a royalist. That is a mistake. 
 Her political opinions were well known at the 
 time of her death . 
 
 As to the girl, Renaud, of whom Robespierre, 
 by way of a speculation, attempted to make a 
 second Charlotte Corday, she was anything but 
 a heroine. But her death was necessary to en- 
 hance Robespierre's value in the eyes of the Ja- 
 cobins, and, therefore, the incorruptible patriot 
 scrupled not to immolate her and all her family on 
 the scaffold. It was an atrocious affair, and it roused 
 the indignation of every honest man in France.
 
 THE MAN OF FATE. 305 
 
 I asked Prince Cambacdr^s whether the Emperor 
 adopted any particular precautions to defend him- 
 self against assassination. 
 
 " I assure you," repUed the Prince, "he never 
 bestowed a thought on such a thing. You, your- 
 self know with what facility any one might enter 
 the Tuileries." 
 
 " I know," replied I, "that neither on my 
 first, nor on my last visit, did any one inquire my 
 name, my rank, nor even question my right to ap- 
 pear there. Any well-dressed person arriving in a 
 carriage, might have gained access to the salle des 
 marechaux, or even to the salon bleu. There any 
 one might, with perfect ease, have assassinated 
 the Emperor, by making the sacrifice of his own 
 life; and such fanatics are not w^anting." 
 
 " The Emperor," observed the Prince, " was 
 alike unguarded in Paris, in the country, or 
 when with the army. He never felt the least 
 apprehension for himself, whatever others might 
 feel for him. He would mount his horse, and ride 
 here and there, v*'ith little, or even no escort. He 
 trusted to his star ; firmly persuaded that he was 
 a man of Fate, and that Fate would protect him 
 as far as might be necessary for the fulfilment of 
 her decrees. Napoleon was essentially a fatalist. 
 On this subject, his faith was almost childish. 
 Fatality, in his belief, ruled the world. Thus, he 
 was never very fearful of conspiracies. He used 
 to say he was not fated to be their victim. This 
 
 VOL. I. X
 
 306 THE IMPERIAL CHAMBERLAINS. 
 
 feeling rendered him venturous beyond all parallel, 
 and inspired him with courage almost superhuman. 
 Wlien I now hear him accused of cowardice, I 
 am more inclined to laugh than to be angry. . . . 
 It is ever thus ! Mankind will never confess that 
 they have adored the idol after having broken it ; 
 whilst, before its destruction, they could not offer 
 sufficient incense to it." 
 
 This subject led us into a lengthened conver- 
 sation. Prince Cambaceres and I adverted to the 
 conduct of some of the imperial chamberlains, 
 who had been so humble, so willing to bow their 
 necks to the yoke of Napoleon, and who had the 
 baseness to revile him in the royalist fever that 
 had seized them since his downfal. There was 
 one in particular, who the Prince told me, had 
 once paid the most assiduous court to him, (Cam- 
 baceres.) He had not seen him since the return 
 of the King, because this gentilhomme of the old 
 regime had contrived to work himself into the 
 household of a Prince of the Bourbon family. 
 Prince Cambaceres had occasion to write to this 
 person, upon some business of no very weighty 
 importance, and he addressed to him a friendly 
 note, couched in the familiar style in which they 
 had been in the habit of corresponding. To this 
 note, he received the following answer : 
 
 " The presents his compliments to M. 
 
 Cambaceres. His opinions preclude him from
 
 A CURIOUS LETTER. 307 
 
 visiting any but persons who are devoted to the 
 government, and to the amiable family of the 
 Sovereign. He was not aware of being so well 
 acquainted with M. de Cambaceres, that the latter 
 should feel warranted in addressing him in those 
 friendly terms which are appropriate only betweeri 
 persons possessing congenial opinons. He, there- 
 fore, regrets that he can neither call on M. de 
 Cambaceres, nor promise to serve him in the way 
 he requests. Perhaps, at some future time, when 
 M. de Cambaceres shall have given pledges of his 
 fidelity to the royal family, the obstacles, now 
 existing, may be removed. Till then, it will be 
 prudent to suspend a correspondence, which, to 
 say the least of it, is indiscreet." 
 
 " (Signed,) The ." 
 
 •* Paris, August 8th, 18 14." 
 
 " Monseigneur," I exclaimed, when I perused 
 this letter, *' will you not inflict on this man the 
 just punishment of stigmatizing him by the re- 
 collection of the past ? Why not have this letter 
 framed and hung up in your drawing-room, so 
 that every body may see this flagrant turpitude ?" 
 
 " Bah!" replied the Prince, " I have already 
 seen many and shall probably see many more 
 examples of this kind. Such trifles do not annoy 
 me. The man is a contemptible blockhead, un- 
 worthy of notice, and 1 know very well that when- 
 
 X 2
 
 308 AN ANECDOTE FOR 
 
 ever the wind changes he will again cringe at my 
 feet." 
 
 " Impossible, Monseigneur! after having written 
 that letter." 
 
 " Oh ! he will forget it, if it be his interest 
 to do so. He will even deny it, if need be." 
 
 I shook my head doubtfully ; for I was unable 
 to conceive the possibihty of such a combination 
 of effrontery and meanness. However, the events 
 of 1815 made me a little wiser. I cannot refrain 
 from acquainting the reader with the sequel of the 
 story relative to the chamberlain. 
 
 The 20th of March arrived. Louis XVHI and 
 the royal family quitted France. Prince Camba- 
 cer^s was urged to leave his retirement by the 
 express wish of Napoleon ; he found himself com- 
 pelled to resume his title of Arch-Chancellor, and 
 to accept provisionally the portfolio of the Minis- 
 ter of Justice. A week had scarcely elapsed after 
 these changes, when one morning I went to pay 
 my respects to the Prince. After a little conver- 
 sation, he smiled and said to me : 
 
 " Leon, I know that you are curious in auto- 
 graphs. Take this to enrich your collection." 
 
 He presented to me a letter under an envelope. 
 On the seal was a coat of arms. I unfolded the 
 letter, and was astonished on reading the following 
 lines :
 
 THE UNINITIATED. 309 
 
 " Monseigneur, 
 
 " Never was my heart animated by joy more 
 sincere than that excited by your happy return 
 of fortune. Nothing but the infatuation which 
 took possession of me, could have made me doubt, 
 for a moment, that His Majesty the Emperor and 
 King, would resume the sceptre which he has 
 endowed with so much glory. Your serene High- 
 ness is now restored to that high post which 
 affords you the opportunity of doing so much 
 good. I feel most proud of the many acts of 
 kindness Monseigneur has conferred on me ; and 
 I will speedily lay at his feet the homage of my 
 most respectful devotedness and of the unalterable 
 esteem with which, Monseigneur, I have the honour 
 to be. Your Serene Highness's most humble 
 servant." 
 
 Then followed the signature, which I scarcely 
 need mention was that of the chamberlain who, in 
 1814, had so impertinently answered the request of 
 a friendly act of service. 
 
 " Did I not tell you how it would be ?" said 
 Prince Cambaceres. 
 
 *' Alas, Monseigneur ! I am confounded, both 
 at the fact itself and its possibility. . . .But, thank 
 heaven ! men are not all of this stamp .... And 
 how does your Highness mean to treat this fellow?" 
 
 " I will wait till he comes ; for I know he will 
 come. I will receive him coldly. He will bear it.
 
 310 WISE MAXIMS. 
 
 He will come twice a week, then four times, then 
 seven times ; until at length, by dint of seeing 
 him often, I shall forget the past, and perhaps 
 some day or other prefer him to the men who are 
 most faithfully devoted to me. Aiyisi va le monde I 
 We are all the creatures of habit, and three-fourths 
 of that which we are apt to call friendship, is 
 nothing but the reiterated contact of two hetero- 
 geneous bodies. But, though the spark may kindle 
 in both at once and with equal power, yet they 
 will never thoroughly unite, and be animated by 
 the same sentiments." 
 
 I could not help assuring the Prince that, w^ere I in 
 his place, I should banish from my presence the man 
 who could be guilty of such grovelling meanness. 
 
 " That would only be adding one more to the 
 number of my enemies," replied he ; " and where 
 would be the use of that ? By treating him with 
 civility, I shall render him harmless. Believe 
 me, it is best to tack about, and not to steer 
 too adventurously in the face of the wind. He 
 who does that may be driven on the rock on 
 which he will break. Besides, who can answer 
 for the soundness of our vessel ? The prudent 
 man always distrusts his own strength and power, 
 and will never risk them unnecessarily." 
 
 I feel pleasure in noting down these maxims, 
 the precious fruits of the experience of Prince Cam- 
 baceres. There are few situations in life on which 
 he had not meditated, and on which he could
 
 A PLIANT COURTIER. 311 
 
 not give excellent advice. As to the chamberlain, 
 he made his appearance, fluttered for a while 
 round the Prince ; then, being endowed with a 
 keen scent, he kept himself aloof ; and, after the 
 battle of Waterloo, he was seen no more. Since 
 1830, he has become one of the most assiduous 
 courtiers at the Tuileries. 
 
 There is another gentleman, of the same class, 
 whose adventures I may briefly recount. He was 
 originally known in Paris as a servant of Louis 
 XVI. After the 6th of October, he became one 
 of the adherents of the Duke of Orleans, whom 
 he speedily deserted to convince Robespierre that, 
 like David, he would taste the hemlock with him. 
 The 9th Thermidor took him rather by surprise, 
 but, as he was the relative of Barras, he went 
 with his cousin to rejoice at the victory over 
 the Jacobins, and to pay his devoirs at the Lux- 
 embourg. Being shrewd enough to foresee Bona 
 parte's elevated fortune, he paid his court to him 
 on the 18th Brumaire, and, as a matter of course, 
 was afterwards received at the Tuileries. There 
 he found himself in his element, and there he 
 continued swimming in smooth water, until Jose- 
 phine's divorce was determined on. After this, 
 he solicited the favour oi being permitted to join 
 the escort which was to conduct Maria-Louisa 
 to France. All now went on well ; and he was 
 devoted to the service of the imperial family. 
 But Providence again decreed a change. Napoleon
 
 312 THE GIL BLAS 
 
 sustained reverses in the north ; our courtier fore- 
 saw the Restoration, and hazarded a letter to Louis 
 XVIII, who, in 1814, conceded to him the pri- 
 vilege of styling himself an ancien royaliste. 
 During the Hundred Days, he was confined by the 
 gout : but he sent his eldest son to Ghent, and 
 the younger one to meet Napoleon. The Emperor 
 fell a second time, and our ancien royaliste again 
 threw himself at the feet of the King with a 
 certificate from Doctor Recamier. The Capetian 
 dynasty being consolidated, he sued for the pardon 
 of his unworthy son. Afterwards, he deserted M. 
 de Blacas, to join the party of M. de Decazes ; 
 and he left the latter for M. de Villele, on whom 
 he also turned his back, during the brief interval of 
 the Vicomte de Martignac's power. He had already 
 begun his genuflections before Prince Polignac, 
 when the three days arrived. Who can describe 
 the fatigue he underwent in hurrying to General 
 Dubourg, who was doing everything, then to the 
 Duke de Choiseul who was doing nothing, then to 
 Lafayette, Laffitte, Guizot, and others who gave the 
 work its finishing touch ? At length, he lighted 
 on the staircase of the Palais-Royal, where he has 
 since taken root. M. de Talleyrand, who knows 
 him well, said : — " For the last forty years, we 
 
 have never lost sight of M. P . I feel sure 
 
 of seeing him at my back whenever I turn round. 
 He is like my shadow." 
 
 The Memoirs of ]M. P would form a
 
 OF THE REVOLUTION. 313 
 
 romance, worthy to be a pendant to that of Le Sage. 
 He might justly be surnamed the Gil Bias of 
 the Revolutions, 
 
 Society is overrun by these political weather- 
 cocks, who turn with every change of wind. They 
 furnish useful materials for reflection. But a truce 
 to the subject. Whilst I write, I frequently re- 
 peat to myself, by way of admonition, this well 
 known line : — 
 
 " L'ennui naquit un jour de I'uniformile !" 
 
 The letters which I have quoted above, and 
 which are so perfectly characteristic of the mean- 
 ness of the writer, bring to my recollection 
 some others which I will likewise submit to the 
 reader's perusal. The flrst is penned by a lady, 
 
 a relative of the Comtesse de C . She was 
 
 descended from a parliamentary family, who had 
 received titles of nobility about the year 1709. 
 Her husband was a country gentleman of small 
 fortune, who, previously to the first revolution, 
 had held some trivial appointment .... I cannot 
 furnish any further details. When the letter was 
 first communicated to me, I pledged myself not to 
 disclose the names of any of the parties concerned. 
 I do not consider myself released from this pledge. 
 
 The epistle, which is addressed to Count C 
 
 and dated 1806, is as follows —
 
 314 LETTER FROM 
 
 ** My dear nephew, 
 
 " Ernest torments me to let him go to Paris. 
 He is eager to see the world and to push his 
 fortune. I cannot thwart his inclination ; and 
 he will set out in a few days, carrying ^vith him 
 this letter. Ernest is twenty-two years of age, 
 and in the enjoyment of perfect health ; con- 
 sequently, I have had not a little trouble to obtain 
 for him leave to quit the army on the plea of 
 a pulmonary affection. He is a prodigious fa- 
 vourite with the ladies, married as well as single. 
 He is a good dancer and a good fencer ; he plays 
 the violin and paints flowers admirably. I feel 
 assured that Bonaparte would consider himself 
 happy in giving an appointment to a young gen- 
 tleman so accomplished and so highly connected. 
 He would be satisfied by being made a Prefect. 
 Poor fellow ! his modesty is amusing. I hope 
 that, in the first instance, he will be made a coun- 
 sellor of state ; for he cannot seek a military 
 commission. By dint of proper application, it 
 would be easy to obtain something from people 
 who should really consider themselves too happy 
 to be associated with us. Ernest's great-grand- 
 father was on the point of purchasing the appoint- 
 ment of president a mortier in the Parliament of 
 . I have in my possession all the cor- 
 respondence which took place on this subject. 
 His father would like to see him a chamberlain
 
 A PROVINCIAL COUNTESS. 315 
 
 or an ambassador, and his uncle, the grand-vicaire, 
 thinks we should do well to make him study 
 the law, so that he might be fitted for some judi- 
 dicial appointment. The good old man does not 
 reflect that the post of avocat-general would be 
 beneath the talents of Ernest ; and that, perhaps, 
 if he wished to be procureur- general, it might 
 be objected that he has not been regularly in- 
 scribed. Such an obstacle, absurd as it is, ought 
 to be removed. 
 
 " Though Ernest is very young, I should wish 
 to see him married, if an advantageous match 
 should present itself. See whether there is not 
 some relative of Bonaparte, who might bring him, 
 as a dowry, one of those Duchies which will 
 soon be distributed, and afterwards the grand 
 cordon of the legion of honour ; for, as to the mere 
 ribbon, I have forbidden his acceptance of it. 
 Napoleon cannot fail to offer it to him as soon 
 as he shall know that he is a friend of the Marquis 
 
 de X . I should be sorry to see him, by 
 
 the acceptance of that paltry decoration, make 
 himself the equal of those low born soldiers, who, I 
 understand, have now become great men. I must 
 likewise acquaint you that I am exerting influence 
 abroad with Monseigneur the Bishop of Arras,* 
 
 * De Couzie, Bishop of Arras, died an emigrant in r.oudoii. 
 He was a confidential friend of the Count d'Artois, afterwards 
 Charles X.
 
 316 LETTER FROM 
 
 to obtain for my son the cross of Saint-Louis 
 from his legitimate King. 
 
 " This circumstance, together with the annoy- 
 ances to which we should be subjected here in our 
 country residence, through an alliance with the 
 Bonapartes, render it advisable that the said mar- 
 riage should be secret. Napoleon has too much 
 good sense to disapprove of this ; besides, the 
 honour of the alliance will induce him to overlook 
 this little difficulty. The marriage in Paris will 
 not be the less valid, because it has not been made 
 public in this part of the country. 
 
 " I entreat that you will use your interest 
 in behalf of my dear boy. Accompany him when 
 he calls on ]\I. Cambaceres with the letter I have 
 given him. M. Cambaceres will, I am assured, 
 seize every opportunity of evincing his gratitude to 
 
 my family. M. Gras used to invite him to 
 
 dinner twice a year, from 1783 to 1797. He once 
 travelled from Beziers to Castelmaudary in the 
 bateau de jposte, and my mother-in-law was on the 
 point of going with him. He did not know her, it 
 is true ; but still there are recollections which 
 can never be effaced. 
 
 " Adieu, my dear nephew. All the family are 
 in excellent health. My husband saw his son 
 depart with regret. He would like to go with 
 him ; but then he must have a motive ; and, 
 to speak candidly, I do not really know what 
 he could ask for. A man who filled the post
 
 A PROVINCIAL COUNTESS. 317 
 
 of Avocat du Roi for three years, under the old 
 regime, has a right to be fastidious. His brother, 
 who retired from the military service in 1776, 
 and who distinguished himself in so brilliant a way 
 last year in the drawing of the militia, has told 
 Ernest that he will accept the command of a 
 regiment. Ernest will talk to M, Cambaceres 
 on the subject. It will be a good opportunity 
 for raising the dignity of the present army by 
 the introduction of an old officer of noble family. 
 With regard to myself, I should not feel quite 
 satisfied in superseding Madame de la Roche- 
 foucauld, as lady of honour to the Empress Jose- 
 phine ; and, as she is not likely to resign her 
 post, I shall stay where I am. I am not ambitious, 
 as you may perceive, from my humble wishes con- 
 cerning Ernest. 
 
 " I remain, my dear nephew, &c. 
 
 " Comtesse de Ger . 
 
 " P.S. — I forgot to mention that the brother 
 of Manon,* wishes to obtain a situation at court : 
 it must be something good, for we all respect 
 him here. I should like, on New Year's Day, 
 to have a surprise in readiness for that excellent 
 
 man, the Abbe Lumer , if Bonaparte would 
 
 but let him have the neighbouring bishoprick, 
 
 * The lady's femme de chambre.
 
 318 SIMPLICITY OF 
 
 which will soon be vacant. Try whether you 
 cannot obtain some indemnity for our nephew 
 
 D ; though we cannot say he lost any 
 
 thing by the revolution. Yet the indemnity would 
 produce a good effect, and attach many friends 
 to the government. If Bonaparte and M. Cam- 
 baceres should wish to see my letter, you may 
 shew it to them. They like frankness, and I 
 express my feelings honestly." 
 
 I will now present to the reader an epistle 
 which I received from a near relative of my own, 
 a grave old gentleman, who had filled a magis- 
 terial post for the space of forty years. 
 
 " It is reported here that a plan for a new 
 judicial organization is being prepared in profound 
 secrecy ; and that every precaution is taken to 
 prevent the public knowing any thing of the 
 matter. All persons connected with the magis- 
 tracy are on the tip-toe of curiosity, and would 
 pay any price for the least information on the 
 subject. From what I hear of the obstacles raised 
 against public curiosity, there is little hope of 
 
 hearing any thing. Yet, my dear you 
 
 may readily conceive how grateful I should be, 
 if I could give our gentlemen here any intelligence 
 of that which is a sealed letter to us at present. 
 Could you not procure me some information at 
 the Chancellor's office ?... .perhaps, from the
 
 A GRAVE MAGISTRATE. 319 
 
 keeper of the seals, or even from one of the clerks. 
 The pleasure of obhging so devoted a magistrate 
 as myself, might possibly unbind His Excellency's 
 tongue. The information shall be kept profoundly 
 secret from all except the gentlemen to whom I 
 have alluded." 
 
 I confess I read this letter twice before I could 
 believe the evidence of my eyes. It is certainly a 
 curious specimen of provincial simplicity. I am 
 tempted to transcribe one more letter of the same 
 description. It is written by a candidate for ad- 
 mission to the French Academy, and one who has 
 since obtained the honour of wearing the green 
 costume. The letter was addressed to me at a 
 time when I thought I could count seven sincere 
 friends among the forty. It is as follows : — 
 
 " Sir, 
 
 " Since you will not be my competitor for the 
 redoubtable chair in the French Academy — since 
 your amiable modesty acknowledges the superiority 
 of my talent, I am induced to request that you 
 will infuse into the minds of your numerous 
 friends, some portion of the kind admiration with 
 which you regard me. Will you be my patron ? 
 To act such a part, must be both gratifying and 
 honourable to you ; to quote a line of Corneille 
 applicable to the occasion, I may say : 
 
 " De pareils candidats n'ont de chefs qu'cn idee."
 
 320 A CANDIDATE FOR 
 
 " Without affecting a vanity, which is far from 
 my heart, but merely for the sake of that truth 
 to which you and I ought to render homage, I 
 may tell you that Europe is surprised, or I should 
 rather say indignant, at seeing me so long kept 
 at the gate of the sanctuary. The fair sex, in 
 particular, are amazed at the severity of the aca- 
 demicians. I am fully aware that it would not 
 be very agreeable to those gentlemen to see me 
 all at once the Prince of the Senate ; though I must 
 inevitably attain that honour by the merit of 
 my works. They have already been translated 
 into every Uving language. The Turks recite 
 them whilst they sip their coffee. At Venice, the 
 lays of Tasso and Ariosto are no longer heard : 
 my poems have superseded them. I feel pained 
 that I should be compelled to tell you this. 
 
 " I have not ventured to give the slightest 
 hint to M. de Lormion, and I will tell you why 
 I have refrained. Having, on a recent occasion, 
 when we were alone together, addressed to him 
 one of those elegant compliments which poets 
 sometimes hazard towards each other, he ex- 
 claimed, seizing me by the collar : ' Monsieur, if 
 to-morrow you insert this in one of the journals 
 and attach your name to it, I promise you that 
 on the day after to-morrow, my vote shall be 
 yours.' This proposition was embarrassing, I 
 am unwilling to' offend M. de Lormion, and, on 
 the other hand, 1 attach too high a value to public
 
 ACADEMIC HONOURS. 321 
 
 esteem to allow it to be supposed that I have one 
 or several superiors. Will you, Sir, advocate my 
 cause to this academician ? Assure him of my 
 admiration ; and tell him that I consider him to 
 have surpassed the two poets he has translated, 
 (Tasso and Ossian.) But abstain from all com- 
 parison between him and me. By this means, 
 you will avoid sinning against sincerity ; for, if 
 you consider me superior to yourself who possess 
 so much talent, you cannot possibly rank M. 
 Lormion above me. 
 
 " Tell M, Guirard, that I have read his tra- 
 gedy ; this will gratify him. If I were to see it 
 performed, I regret to say, that the opposition ex- 
 pressed by the audience would prevent me from 
 applauding so as to encourage him by a suffrage, 
 which I know he would highly prize. 
 
 " M.M. Jouy and Parceval are exceedingly 
 friendly to me. They are not my rivals. There- 
 fore, they are devoid of envy. As to M. , 
 
 whose mosaic literature belongs to the whole 
 world, he irritated me so much the other day, 
 that I apprehend his negative vote. His mania 
 of eulogizing all Parnassus annoys me. Speak 
 to him ; soothe his jealous feeling. Point out to 
 him that he may still hold a high rank, though 
 far beneath me. 
 
 " Thiers may make M. V believe that 
 
 his suffrage in my favour would throw me a 
 thousand leagues in the rear of him. This would 
 
 VOL. I, V
 
 322 A CANDIDATE FOR 
 
 be a master-stroke. But I am informed that, since 
 the day of his reception, he has wished to close the 
 Academy, and that, consequently, he will put a 
 black ball into the urn. He will not retract this 
 determination. No matter ; — do all you can, and 
 go as far as possible without compromising me. 
 I am aware, too, that in speaking of me, he made 
 this remark : ' I am watching him ; and, if I see a 
 good opportunity, I will trample on, and crush him.' 
 " Your two other friends will listen to reason. 
 They see the altitude to which I am soaring ; and 
 they are not inclined to encounter a contest. In 
 return for this, I promise them the immortality 
 which my verses will confer on them. You, too, 
 deserve the like reward, and I will take an early 
 opportunity of addressing an epistle to you. Will 
 you challenge me by an ode ? I wdll furnish you 
 with a few hints of what you ought to say. I am 
 
 quite of the opinion of our friend M. , who 
 
 says : • every man ought to attend to his own affairs.' 
 He said without ceremony the other day to a 
 poet who promised to write something compli- 
 mentary upon him : ' Send your effusion to me, 
 and I will correct it. Who can appreciate so 
 well as myself the eulogies I deserve?' Now, Sir, 
 it appears to me that there is a very laudable 
 degree of candour in these words. Is it so ex- 
 traordinary that we should be able to appreciate 
 ourselves ? I assure you, I was not convinced of 
 mv own worthiness to stand at the head of our
 
 ACADEMIC HONOURS. 323 
 
 literature, until after I had maturely reflected, 
 and compared myself with others. If the Vicomte 
 de Chateaubriand had written in verse, I should 
 have ranged myself by his side. But poetry dis- 
 dains prose. If I gain admittance to the Academy, 
 I shall be satisfied : if I should owe my reception 
 to you, that favour will add another link to our 
 friendship. 
 
 " Receive every assurance of my regard; it is im- 
 perishable, like the poetic crown which encircles 
 my brow. 
 
 - (Signed,) " 
 
 I have often regretted that I did not receive this 
 missive in the life- time of Prince Cambaceres : it 
 would have greatly amused him, and we should 
 have enjoyed a hearty laugh at it together. Tlie 
 Prince detested that literary vanity, of which the 
 above letter affords so curious a specimen. He 
 had a poor opinion of those bombastic writers 
 whom he used to compare to finely decorated bal- 
 loons, inflated with air. His pure taste led him 
 to admire simplicity ; and he held in aversion 
 every thing like extravagance and affectation. He 
 reprobated the romantic style, which was gaining 
 ground so rapidly. His taste had been formed on 
 the finest Uterary models, and he had an intimate 
 knowledge of the best Greek and Latin autliors. 
 
 At the evening reunions of Prince Cambaceres, 
 discussions frequently arose on the com})arative 
 
 Y 2
 
 324 VICTOR HUGO. 
 
 merits of the writers of the old and new schools. 
 Among the literary characters assembled one even- 
 ing, there was a M, de C , a very caustic 
 
 personage, and a most bitter and severe critic. 
 Just as I entered, Prince Cambaceres was saying : 
 
 " Monsieur C , pray who is this Victor 
 
 Hugo who is making so much noise just now ?" 
 
 " He is a mere youth, Monseigneur." 
 
 " But he writes poetry; and he has a host of 
 enthusiastic admirers." 
 
 " Well, then, he is a sublime youth if you will. 
 But I fear he will lose himself in the extravagant 
 flights he is taking to gratify his ill-judging ad- 
 mirers. He undoubtedly possesses talent ; but 
 he is utterly destitute of invention. He turns 
 round and round upon the same idea. He wishes 
 to be a literary legislator ; but he will continually 
 vary his poetic code, for he wants the stability of 
 genius." 
 
 " He appears to be quite a neologist," said 
 Prince Cambaceres, (this remark was made in 
 1818.) 
 
 " Yes, Monseigneur, he mistakes eccentricity 
 for imagination. But, in spite of his faults, he 
 will be the founder of a sect. However, M. Hugo 
 is not the first who opened the tract upon which 
 he has entered, and into which he is enticing 
 others to follow him. In the last century, you 
 and I recollect Retif de la Bretonne and Mercier, 
 who adopted the romantic style ; and they had
 
 THE ROMANTICISTS. 325 
 
 Saint-Amand for their leader, and Voltaire for 
 their precursor ;— for Voltaire was the first who 
 turned to the use of art that which was out of 
 nature. He was ambitious, not only to touch the 
 heart, but also to divert the eye. He sowed the seeds 
 of the melodrama in Zaire, Semiramis, Olympic 
 and Tancrede ; but his exquisite taste kept him 
 within bounds. Then there was the bombastic 
 Diderot, who, because he had an indefatigable 
 pen and tongue, fancied himself a man of genius — 
 a mistake which was likewise shared by his con- 
 temporaries. Diderot wished to subvert the rules ; 
 he wrote against them, and, according to per- 
 petual custom, he made his theory apply to his 
 own effusions. 
 
 " Romanticism, as I have said, is not newly 
 born. M. Nepomucene Lemercier had his turn 
 in this class of writing, before Victor Hugo was 
 heard of. He wrote a play, the first act of which 
 w^as in Italy, the second in Spain, and the third 
 on the sea. His innovation was hissed. Do you 
 know why ? At that period, men at our time 
 of life had not fallen into an absurdity similar to 
 that committed by our fathers, who set up the 
 philosophers in lieu of a King. Since 1814, an 
 attempt has been made to establish a still more 
 ridiculous domination ; I mean the domination 
 of hlanc-becs . . . . of school-boys. The Consl'du- 
 tionnel and all the journals of that cast, are every 
 day lauding to the skies these beardless poets and
 
 326 THE ROMANTICISTS. 
 
 patriots. They are so eulogized for their works, 
 that they blush to pursue their studies. A 
 finished education is no longer thought of. At 
 present, all this is merely ridiculous, but, by and 
 bye, it will be a serious misfortune. 
 
 " These youths, who are continually told they are 
 men of genius, really think themselves such ; for 
 how can they doubt the sincerity of praise which 
 comes from men whose miderstandings they res- 
 pect, and whom they believe too honest to deceive 
 them. They entertain a thorough conviction of 
 their own superiority; and, when they find their 
 first productions attract no notice, they blame, not 
 their own want of talent, but the indifference or 
 unfairness of the public. Mental dejectment 
 succeeds to disappointment. They expected fame, 
 fortune and happiness ; and they find their hopes 
 are vain illusions. To awake from these illusions, 
 would be too painful : they prefer eternal sleep ; 
 and thus they are driven by their own vanity, and 
 the adulation of others, to the crime of suicide. 
 This mode of ending existence is becoming daily 
 more frequent, and bids fair to become quite an 
 epidemic. Ah, Monseigneur ! how criminal are the 
 flatterers of youthful talent ! What will they have 
 to answer for when the tree they have planted shall 
 
 bear its fruit? But, to return to M. Hugo. 
 
 He certainly possesses talent, though he wants 
 the greatest of all talent — invention. I fear he 
 will not be able to create for himself ; thou2:h I
 
 THE ROMANTICISTS. 327 
 
 o 
 
 believe he is not the man to avail himself wholly 
 of the labour of others, and I have no doubt he is 
 fully imbued with the truth of the precept : ' Help 
 thyself, and God will help thee.' " 
 
 " Ah, Monsieur !" said I to M. C , when 
 
 at length there came a pause, " how severe you 
 are upon this poor world ! You would close the 
 path against innovation." 
 
 M. C , instead of replying, shrugged 
 
 his shoulders, took up his hat, bowed, and went 
 away. 
 
 " You have raised up an enemy to yourself," 
 observed the Prince. 
 
 " How could that simple observation have given 
 offence?" 
 
 " He supposes you to be imbued with the prin- 
 ciples of the new school, and he rejects them with 
 the same fanaticism which others evince in re- 
 ligion and politics. He is one of that class of 
 persons whose maxim is : ' Hors des regies, point 
 de salut.' " 
 
 ' ' Well, if he had stayed a little while, I should 
 have raised that conservative cry along with 
 him." 
 
 " Then you are not an admirer of the new school 
 of literature ?" 
 
 " No, and for this reason. It has laid down 
 rules, before it has furnished models. In all things, 
 except reading a book, the right way is to begin at 
 the beginning. Let us see romanticists produce
 
 328 RETIF DE LA BRETONNE. 
 
 6 
 
 master-pieces which will dim the glory of our 
 old divinities, then we shall be their sectarians 
 by compulsion. And one day or other a Horace, 
 a Vida, or a Boileau will step in to bridle ex- 
 travagance, and to teach genius to hover within 
 the confines of reason and taste." 
 
 " It is certain," observed the Prince, " that 
 romanticism is not a creation of the present day." 
 
 " By no means," said I. " Our contemporary 
 writers are merely disfiguring all that is good 
 in it. They run into all sorts of extravagancies 
 and hope that their faults will be mistaken for 
 beauties. I doubt whether this style will outlive 
 a quarter of a century. If it survive for half 
 a century, and I live till then, I may apply to it 
 the line which Racine puts into the mouth of 
 Mithridates : — 
 
 " Et mes dermiers regards ont vu fuir les Remains." 
 
 The Prince smiled and said : 
 
 " I saw the birth of this mongrel literature. 
 Diderot approved it, and Retif and Mercier pro- 
 fessed it. They were both men of genius and 
 vanity ; they . were incapable of bridling their 
 unfortunate facility, and they totally disregarded 
 study. Retif always appeared to me a maniac. 
 By what other term can one designate the man, 
 who, under pretence of observing mankind, min- 
 gles with the lowest classes of society, and who, 
 not content with this, compelled his wife and
 
 RETIF BE LA BRETONNE. 329 
 
 daughters to participate in his degrading asso- 
 ciations ? There is no name by which one can 
 characterize an extravagance of this kind. And 
 this was not an error committed once in a moment 
 of thoughtlessness. His works comprise two hun- 
 dred volumes, and they present pictures of human 
 turpitude calculated to inspire disgust, not only 
 against the works but their author. 
 
 " I knew Retif very well. He was a handsome 
 man, but always very dirty and ill-dressed. When- 
 ever I saw him, I used to be tempted to make the 
 remark which Aristippes made to Diogenes : — 
 I see vanity through the holes of your cloak. His 
 vanity prompted him to be jealous even of the 
 eminent writers, who lived before he was born. 
 He could not endure any praise which was not 
 addressed to himself. It was strange that, though 
 he himself would readily praise Mercier, yet he 
 would not pardon any one else for expressing 
 admiration of that writer. When he heard Mer- 
 cier depreciated, then he would take up his defence 
 with pleasure. He loved to be thought generous, 
 and to deal to every one their share of praise ; but 
 then he wished others to award praise to him 
 exclusively. If Homer, Racine, or Milton were 
 quoted in his presence, his brow contracted, and 
 he darted angry glances at the fool, the patriot, 
 (these were his usual terms of reproach) who had 
 rendered the tribute of admiration due to those 
 great men. I have seen him act in this way
 
 330 MARIE-JOSEPH CHENIER. 
 
 fifty times. The success of his Paysan and his 
 Paysanne completely turned his head. The Con- 
 temporaines is a very clever collection, and his 
 Nuits de Paris are the offspring of a brilliant 
 imagination. All these works, though blemished 
 by gross faults, nevertheless bear traces of singular 
 talent, and are well worth reading." 
 
 I had read the writings of Retif, and my opinion 
 of them perfectly coincided with that of Prince 
 Cambaceres. Respecting his personal appearance, 
 I can say nothing ; for I never saw him. He died 
 just before I arrived in Paris. 
 
 " Among the writers who took up the defence 
 of good taste, there is one very celebrated, of 
 whom I shall say a few words. I allude to Marie- 
 Joseph Chenier : it is necessary to mention his 
 christian names to distinguish him from his poetic 
 brother Andre, of whom I shall by and bye speak. 
 Marie- Joseph was not very fond of speaking of 
 his adulatory tragedy entitled : Le Couroimement 
 de Cyrus, which he wrote in compliment to Na- 
 poleon. On this subject, I shall presently relate 
 an amusing anecdote. 1 am now about to mention 
 another of his works, and the storm it conjured 
 over his head. 
 
 Chenier soon felt that the path of flattery was ill 
 suited to him and to the nature of his genius, which 
 was essentially republican. He hastened to recover 
 his independence, and he proclaimed his return to 
 his old principles by the publication of his Epitre
 
 I 
 
 HIS EPISTLE TO VOLTAIRE. 331 
 
 a Voltaire, a masterpiece of taste, energy, fancy, 
 courage, malice and impiety. The devout ana- 
 thematized it, and the indifferent (who form by 
 far the greatest number) read it with avidity. I 
 was made acquainted w^th this production before 
 it was presented to the public. Chenier had read 
 it to me. I listened to it with profound attention, 
 and when he arrived at its close, I asked him 
 whether he really intended to publish it. 
 
 " Certainly I do," he replied, " and it will 
 appear to-morrow." 
 
 " Well, when you rise, the day after to-morrow, 
 you may put your night-cap in your pocket ; 
 for rest assured that, you will sleep in the 
 Temple that night." 
 
 " What ! without a trial ?" 
 
 " I tell you, you will sleep in the Temple. 
 Napoleon will never pardon such independence." 
 
 " I am of opinion," observed Chenier, " that 
 Napoleon is too young for this ancient sort of 
 tyranny. At his age, the part of Tiberius would 
 be inappropriate. He must postpone that till 
 a future time. Besides, I have to expiate the 
 eulogies which I addressed to him. This epistle is 
 an act of political and literary contrition." 
 
 In spite of its good object, the publication 
 seemed to be a very hazardous step. Madame 
 de Fars, Madame de Lesparda and myself, en- 
 deavoured to prevail on him to change his re- 
 solution. But Chenier was an obstinate repub-
 
 C'32 NAPOLEON AND CHENIER. 
 
 lican, and, moreover, a poet : he would have his 
 own way. 
 
 On the pubUcation of the Epistle, the Emperor 
 expressed a wish to see it. Its commencement 
 displeased him exceedingly. 
 
 " These lines," said he, to Count Regnauld, 
 who had presented the publication to him, in 
 the hope of mitigating the first ebullition of the 
 imperial anger, " these lines are out of place. 
 Why make this bitter attack upon me, at the 
 very moment when I am seeking to establish 
 public morals, and to consolidate religion, which 
 is their basis ? It would appear, that our poets 
 are anxious to perpetuate the ill opinion enter- 
 tained of the French people in Europe. Must 
 we be charged with impiety because it has pleased 
 Parny, Chenier and Ginguene to insult the re- 
 ligion which we ought to revere ?" 
 
 " Sire," observed Regnauld, " the works of 
 the writers you have just mentioned are merely 
 effusions of wit and humour, and afford no ground 
 of alarm." 
 
 " That is a mistake. I look on them as ex- 
 tremely dangerous. They accustom the rising 
 generation, by whom they are read, to regard with 
 ridicule all that is most respectable." 
 
 " But, Sire, according to the constitution of 
 the state, freedom of religious worship, and con- 
 sequently freedom of religious discussion, are per- 
 mitted in France."
 
 NAPOLEOiV AND CHENIER. 333 
 
 " This indefinite freedom of discussion leads 
 to atheism. Besides, / reign by the grace of God : 
 if there be no God, on what does my sovereign 
 title rest ? There is a close and mysterious al- 
 liance between the throne and religion. If the 
 latter be attacked, the other will soon be in danger. 
 I should never have been seated on my throne, 
 had I not commenced by raising up the altar. 
 Chenier is very culpable, he fills a post in the 
 Imperial University ; and he exercises a direct 
 influence over the youth who are educated there. 
 Certainly, their parents must be dissatisfied with 
 the principles he promulgates." 
 
 Count Regnauld knew not what answer to make 
 to this. The Emperor continued reading the 
 Epistle, sometimes praising the energy and ori- 
 ginality of the ideas, and sometimes making ges- 
 tures of disapproval .... When he arrived at the 
 following lines, he uttered them with a marked 
 alteration of voice : — 
 
 Tout passe, tout s'dteint, les conqu^rans pdrissent, 
 
 Sur le front des heros les lauriers &e fletrissent ; 
 ***** 
 
 Le pouvoir absolu s'efForcerait en vain 
 D'aneantir I'esprit ne d'un souffle divin, 
 
 Tacite en traits de flamme accuse nos Sdjans, 
 Et son nom prononc6 fait palir les tyrans. 
 
 " Monsieur Regnauld," exclaimed his Majesty,
 
 334 NAPOLEON AND CHENIER. 
 
 " your friend is resolved to make me his enemy ! 
 Have I reason to fear Tacitus ? Are my ministers 
 to be compared to Sejanus ? Do not suppose 
 that I will tolerate such insolence : four good 
 walls shall keep the jacobin under restraint. Send 
 for the minister of police immediately." 
 
 '* Sire, why employ the minister of the police in 
 this aifair ? Your severity will only confer im- 
 portance on a work which has none of its own. 
 Take no notice of it, and it will soon be for- 
 gotten." 
 
 " No, Sir, lines like those which 1 have just 
 read, are long remembered. Besides, they are 
 from the pen of a popular poet. Chenier is a 
 powerful sovereign declaring war against me." 
 
 " Spare, at least, the imprisonment. May I 
 venture to observe, Sire, that posterity, which will 
 see so much to admire in you, will never approve 
 the persecution of talent." 
 
 Count Regnauld always spoke frankly and ho- 
 nestly, and the Emperor, who knew his devotedess, 
 was never offended at his bluntness of manner. 
 
 " It would seem, from the earnestness of your 
 intercession," said Napoleon, *' that you, too, stand 
 in awe of the poet." 
 
 " Pardon me, Sire, I appreciate Chenier as 
 his talents deserve ; it is your Majesty who fears 
 him. 
 
 " To punish him is not to fear him. I w^ould 
 punish him because he attacks God and his sove-
 
 NAPOLEON AND CHENIER. 335 
 
 reign. And then the lines against Prince Talley- 
 rand, what do you think of them ? .... What 
 insults ! what personalities ! .... And the affec- 
 tation of always repeating the name of the Re- 
 public. The Republic is no more. A royalist 
 who conspires now-a-days is less culpable than a 
 Republican." 
 
 The conversation was maintained in this way 
 until the arrival of Fouche. As soon as he entered, 
 the Emperor began to reproach him for not having 
 prohibited the pubUcation of the Epistle to Vol- 
 taire. 
 
 " What are you thinking about ? What are 
 your police agents doing ?" — were the concluding 
 words of his philippic. 
 
 " Sire," replied Fouche, without hesitation, 
 *' we are intent on defeating the hostile schemes 
 which England is directing against your person. 
 I do not consider crazy poets worthy of such 
 serious attention, and, as you are not a Tibe- 
 rius, I do not see why I should consider myself a 
 Sejanus." 
 
 " Who informed you that I would not punish 
 such insolence despotically. .A prison shall be my 
 answer." 
 
 " All Paris would be thrown into excitement to 
 effect his liberation. He is not a popular favorite 
 now ; but in prison he would become an object of 
 commiseration. Believe me, it is dangerous to 
 render one's enemies interesting."
 
 336 NAPOLEON AND CHENIER. 
 
 In spite of his ill humour, Napoleon could not 
 refrain from smiling. 
 
 " T should be very loth to render Chenier 
 interesting," said he,... "Well, let him be de- 
 prived of his post at the University . . The man who 
 outrages religion is unfit to preside over the educa- 
 tion of youth." 
 
 There was no possibility of obtaining a remission 
 of this sentence. Chenier lost his situation. He 
 was not rich ; but he spent what he had like a 
 prince. His reverse of fortune could not tempt 
 him to be guilty of any meanness. When I saw 
 him after the loss of his place, he said : — 
 
 " Do you know, I narrowly escaped sleeping 
 where you told me I should ? But I have only 
 been deprived of my means of subsistence : — 
 this is a strange way to force me to approve of 
 bigots and tyrants."
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Count Regnauld de Saiut-Jean d'Angely — His portrait and cha- 
 racter — Special value set upon him by Napoleon — Sharp and 
 unpublished sayings of the Emperor — Count Regnauld in 1814 
 — The five assassinations — Romantic chapter in the life of a 
 counsellor of state — Poison and chocolate, an anecdote of the 
 
 days of the Empire — Baron de Puymaurin — M. de C — 
 
 Story of an imperial spy, related by M. de Puymaurin — In- 
 credible and disinterested language of M. Benoit, an ex-mi- 
 nister of state — Conversation with Cambacdres on the probable 
 return of Napoleon — Unpublished letter of the latter written at 
 the close of 1814 — Tribulations of an ex-grand dignitary — The 
 female chapter, an anecdote of the restoration — The dearly paid 
 bride's clothes of a maiden espoused without a portion — Per- 
 sons going a-begging — The actress and the window — A beggar 
 who has lost his memory ; stories of the present day — The Em- 
 peror and a grognard — Unpublished and anccdotical letters of 
 Napoleon to Josephine concerning the battle of Austerlitz — The 
 black leg and the joke, a fantastic anecdote. 
 
 ** On this day," said Count de Saint-Jean 
 d'Angely, as lie was walking with me after dining 
 
 VOL. I. z
 
 338 COUNT DE SAINT-JEAN d'aNGELY. 
 
 with Prince Cambaceres, who still resided at his 
 hotel in the Rue Saint-Dominique, " on this day, 
 many years ago, a singular adventure occurred to 
 me. A partiality for the fair sex, has ever been laid 
 to my charge. But, on what objects can we more 
 appropriately bestow our affections ? I consider 
 them the master piece of nature ; and, assuredly, 
 when I contemplate a woman in all the splendour 
 of her beauty, I cannot see in her the work of 
 chance, but must fain confess the hand of a God 
 who can alone have created her. .You smile, mis- 
 chievous Sir." 
 
 " I only admire, Monseigneur, how, from the 
 love of the creature, you are brought to admit 
 the existence of the Creator. Your Excellency 
 is in the right road to salvation, and I rejoice 
 at it." 
 
 " A truce to jesting, for I am serious ; I am 
 neither a bigot, nor a jansenist ; but, when I re- 
 flect. . . .my friend, either the impressions of youth 
 possess an overwhelming power, or something 
 develops itself within us, when the passions are 
 blunted, and forcibly recalls us to those altars 
 which we had pulled down through sheer giddiness 
 in bygone days of prosperity and folly." 
 
 This language Avas too pleasing to me not to 
 claim all my approbation. Count Regnauld is 
 one of the men of the Revolution whose merits 
 have been least estimated at their true value ; by 
 his enemies only has his biography been formed :
 
 COUNT DE SAINT-JEAN d'aNGELY. 339 
 
 if we except what has been inserted in the work 
 entitled Biography of Contemporaries,* he has 
 
 * Count Michel- Louis Etienne Regnauld de Saint- Jean d'An- 
 goly, was born in 1760, of a noble family, and held, pre- 
 viously to J 789, the rank of lieutenant of the provostship of 
 the navy, at Rochefort ; he was indebted to his talents for being 
 appointed to the states-general by the tiers-etat. He always held 
 monarchical, prudent and honourable opinions. Proscribed on the 
 1 0th of August, he escaped the axe of the executioner. He was 
 arrested after the 3ist of August 1793 ; his life was saved by the 
 event of the 9th Thermidor. Bound to Napoleon by ties of friend- 
 ship as early as 1796, he followed him to Italy and Malta, where 
 he remained, with the power of a viceroy, under the modest title 
 of commissary of the French Republic. He laboured to promote 
 the revolution of the 18th Brumaire. Napoleon heaped honors 
 upon him and loaded him with employment. He proved a true and 
 a devoted friend ; few have thus requited him. 
 
 A candidate to the conservative senate, a counsellor of state, a 
 president of section, a minister of state, chief attorney-general to 
 the supreme imperial court, secretary of the imperial family's civil 
 establishment, chief of a legion in the National Guard, a dignitary 
 of the legion of honor, grand cross of the order of the golden eagle 
 of Wurtemberg, member of the French Academy, he was despoiled, 
 by the Restoration of all his honors, and calumniated; he could feel 
 no attachment for it. In 1 8 1 5, he was appointed to the chamber of 
 representatives, and made heroic efforts to uphold Napoleon. 
 Included in the proscription of 26th July ISl.'i, he quitted France 
 met with annoyance in Europe, crossed over to America, returned, 
 or rather, was brought back to Europe. This soul of so superior 
 a stamp, bereft of every other light but that of reason, was beset 
 with sorrow ; then it was that persecution relaxed in its attacks 
 against so much merit, let me add such genuine virtue. The 
 gates of his native land were re-opened to him, but it only proved 
 a shelter to his remains. He died on reaching the sacred soil. 
 
 7. 2
 
 340 COUNT DE SAINT-JEAN d'aNGELY. 
 
 been cruelly calumniated. He was gifted with a 
 frank, lively, generous, and impassioned heart, as 
 irresistibly inclined to pleasure as to business, relax- 
 ing in a decent revel from the fatigue of thirty 
 hoars' writing or of harassing thoughts ; lively, full 
 of wit, as vain as a peacock, but of that vanity 
 which children are wont to display. His countenance 
 beamed with joy whilst contemplating his decora- 
 tions, his coats of arms, his numerous costumes ; he 
 acted the count, no doubt ; but how many services 
 had he rendered in return, how many tears dried up, 
 how many bold struggles attempted against the will 
 of his Emperor, of him who was the fanatic object 
 of his attachment, in whom he delighted far more 
 than the fair sex ! 
 
 Blinded by the wonderful deeds of the great 
 man, he believed in his infallibility ; every act 
 directed against Napoleon was a sacrilege in 
 his sight ; and, at the Emperor's voice, he 
 gathered fresh strength, recommenced with ease 
 a painful task, encouraged by the hope of pleasing, 
 and rewarded by the mere expression, ' I am satis- 
 fied.' He grew angry at our lukewarmness, though 
 
 Arrived in Paris on the 9th of March, at eight o'clock at night, 
 he expired at one in the morning of the lOth of March 1819. 
 The hatred which had pursued him in hfe was transferred to his 
 ashes. Enhghtened in his best moments by a supernatural bright- 
 ness, he was enabled to recognize his family and friends, and to 
 forgive his persecutors. Heaven has great treasures of indulgence 
 in store for those who close their davs in this manner.
 
 THE EGYFTIAN OBELISK. 341 
 
 we were burning with zeal. Setting this fault, if 
 it be one, aside, methinks I still behold him stately, 
 gallant, merry, a delightful narrator, a profound 
 diplomatist, a first rate financier, a skilful adminis- 
 trator, a splendid orator, a man of exquisite taste, a 
 literary character of the highest order, a good father, 
 a better friend, a kind hearted though wayward 
 creature ; but I will not disguise his angry mo- 
 ments, his stormy temper, his passionate threats. 
 He has been falsely charged with being a spe- 
 culator ; as he exceeded all others in liberality, he 
 was perhaps too willing to accept of presents 
 which he returned a hundred fold ; he gave away 
 so bountifully, that he felt himself entitled to some 
 compensation. I recollect, in reference to this 
 subject that, in 1814, after the period of his down- 
 fall, I offered him an Egyptian obelisk four feet in 
 height, which I had purchased in Italy and which 
 was on its way by sea. He accepted the present 
 with delight, and repeatedly reminded me of it. 
 The events of 1815 occurred, and I left Paris. 
 His own correspondence and that of Madame 
 
 A R , our common friend, attest the 
 
 perseverance, the anxiety with which, in the 
 midst of «uch laboriousduties, he kept in view 
 the remittance of this curiosity which, being 
 transferred from one vessel to another, and from 
 hand to hand, was lost to us both. .. .Though 
 we had, for the second time, been overwhelmed 
 after the battle of Waterloo, he never ceased to
 
 342 napoleon's high estimation 
 
 apply in his letters for his promised obelisk. This 
 assuredly evinced no spirit of cupidity ; the article 
 was in itself of no value ; but it was an object of art. 
 1 had offered, and he insisted upon receiving it. 
 Well, then, it is upon such grounds as these that 
 wretches who owed him a debt of gratitude for 
 services rendered, have represented him as plun- 
 dering and speculating right and left ; for the rest, 
 the net amount of property, which remained at his 
 death, abundantly proves that he never treasured 
 up any thing. 
 
 It will not be denied that Napoleon was well 
 skilled in the knowledge of men ; he distinguished 
 Count Regnauld from the crowd, and set the highest 
 value and reliance upon him. The following ex- 
 pressions of Bonaparte were related to me by the 
 second Consul : — 
 
 '* If I confided to you the management of public 
 affairs, with Regnauld to assist in carrying your 
 decisions into effect, I should fearlessly go to the 
 furthest extremity of the world, especially could 1 
 have Duroc, Berthier, Savary, and Marmont for 
 my companions." 
 
 Napoleon, as I have said, employed Count 
 Regnauld upon every species of businessr, whether 
 relating to the interior or to the external affairs, — 
 both indiscriminately. He had appointed him 
 attorney-general of the imperial family's civil 
 establishment, a great officer of the legion of 
 honour ; nothing was wanting to him ; he was a
 
 OF COUNT REGNAULD. 343 
 
 member of the French Academy, and his talents 
 entitled him to a distinction which was envied 
 by men of no pretensions. A royalist in 1789, 
 whilst a member of the states-general ; perse- 
 cuted by the Jacobins ; clear of the excesses of 
 the revolution, and a victim to them, he replied, 
 in 1813, by a respectful refusal, to the offers made 
 to him by order of Louis XVIII. He never 
 boasted of this circumstance. The Emperor was 
 informed of it by the minister of police, the Duke 
 of Rovigo, and, when he reverted to the subject, 
 Regnauld answered : — 
 
 " Why, Sire, in my place, you would have done 
 the same. Where is the merit in being true 
 to our mistress, when we are enraptured with 
 her?" 
 
 The Emperor, highly delighted, grasped and 
 pressed his hand. 
 
 ** Well, then. Count Regnauld, it behoves me 
 to requite you ; you may rely upon me." 
 
 The arch-chancellor entered soon after this 
 pleasing scene. The Emperor, who was still 
 under the emotion of it, related it to him in all 
 its details, and the same evening, the Prince 
 repeated it in his box at the Opera. Messieurs 
 Bonnet and de Fesquet* heard him as well as I 
 
 * M. de Fesquet, ex-eounsellor of the cours des aides of Mont- 
 pellier, an old friend of Cambac6r6s, was one of the group who
 
 344 THE FRENCH ACADEMY. 
 
 did. The favour enjoyed by Count Regnauld was 
 notorious ; it threw into despair, and was specially 
 irksome to, the Duke of Bassano, the Duke of 
 Rovigo, Messieurs de Fermont, Fouche, Thibeau- 
 deau and others ; he laughed at it, was more 
 considerate in his demeanour towards them, but 
 flung at them the most biting epigrams. 
 
 The Bourbons received, in 1814, thousands of 
 accusations against Count Regnauld. It was a 
 masterly stroke on his part to preside at the French. 
 Academy on the day of M. Campenron's reception ; 
 he availed himself of the occurrence to justify his 
 conduct, and effected it with so much skill, bril- 
 liancy and success, that public opinion again 
 rallied round him. This proved to him a signal 
 triumph ; it was never forgiven him. He was 
 proscribed in 1815, relentlessly persecuted, driven 
 out of Europe. At length, he returned, fully justified 
 from every accusation ; but he did so to yield up 
 his life. Having reached Paris at night, we were 
 called upon the next morning to pay the last 
 duties to his remains. We were inconsolable at his 
 
 constantly accompanied the Prince Arch-chancellor in his visits 
 to the Opera, the Varietes, the Passage des Panoramas, and 
 the Palais-Royal. He was a gentleman of great wit, extremely 
 obliging and serviceable- His son-in-law, M. Bonnet, had the 
 misfortune to be enticed into voting for the death of Louis XVI ; 
 he was afterwards director of the Opera. His wife has been 
 held up as a model of grace, beauty and French wit.
 
 THE FRENCH ACADEMY. 345 
 
 untimely end, for he still numbered many friends. 
 The French Academy, shunning a proscribed mem- 
 ber, sent not the customary deputation to the 
 funeral procession. The timidity of the officers 
 of that body sheltered itself beneath an unlawful 
 ordinance. 
 
 Having in the Courrier Francais,* to render an 
 account of this mournful ceremony, I asserted, on 
 the contrary, and I acknowledge my having done 
 so through a mischievous motive, that magnani- 
 mous and grateful towards a colleague who had, 
 in the days of his power, procured imperial gifts 
 for the academicians, the French Academy had 
 sent a deputation, and I praised them for this act 
 of courage. 
 
 On the following day, a letter corrected my 
 error, and Europe w^as informed that, if some 
 individuals of the party did not make their appear- 
 ance, through shame, at the house of the deceased, 
 in church, or at the burial ground, in a black 
 dress, and consequently mixed up with, or lost as 
 it were in the mourning crowd, one member only, 
 yes, only one member of the company, M. de 
 Jouy, had had the fearless and proud courage of 
 putting on the grand costume of the Institute, 
 
 * This is the only article I ever had inserted in that journal, 
 
 to which I was not personally the bearer of it. M. de J 
 
 procured its admission. The prudence and moderation of the 
 Courrier, and its sound literary opinions, have always ])rocurcd for 
 it a commanding influence over its readers.
 
 346 M. JOUY. 
 
 dark green, lined with light green, and had be- 
 stowed a tribute of friendship and of just praise 
 upon the remains of the illustrious departed. It is 
 possible that many academicians may, at the 
 present day, complain of the solitude in w^hich I 
 allow the hermit of the Chaussee d'Antin to lan- 
 guish ; but wdiy were they silent in 1819 ? I shall 
 ever affirm, for my part, that the academician 
 I have named, and whose whole conduct has been 
 consistent in acts of this nature, was the only 
 one w^hom we saw dressed in his costume of 
 office.* 
 
 Consistently with our natural propensity to de- 
 viate from the beaten track, I have here enacted the 
 part of those who, with a baiidage over their eyes, 
 descend, in a straight line, the green plat of Ver- 
 sailles ; they w^ander here and there, and never 
 reach the end of their walk. But as it is my 
 wish to arrive at the goal, I resume the narrative 
 I had commenced at the beginning of this 
 chapter. 
 
 I was, then, in the ex- chancellor's garden, and 
 
 * M. de Jouy has never shrunk from an act of civil courage ; 
 his life is replete with traits which redound to his honor. The 
 ungrateful youth whose power he was the means of raising in the 
 scale of societ}', were insensible to his success and his merits ; a 
 day will come when justice will be done to him. This opinion, 
 grounded upon a close study of his works, will attest my impar- 
 tiality ; the wrongs I have to complain of, at the hands of his 
 party, have never led rae to speak an} other language.
 
 COUNT REGNAULD's CERBERUS. 347 
 
 Count Regnauld began relating to me one of the 
 numerous anecdotes of his hfe ; he pursued, as 
 follows, the digression which had raised a smile in 
 my countenance, 
 
 " I resided in my handsome hotel of the Rue de 
 Provence ; and was wandering in that elysium, 
 which I no longer enter but with regret, so painful 
 are the recollections which now crowd around and 
 beset me. On a sudden, I heard a noise at the 
 outer door, for my Cerberus was not sparing of the 
 harsh watch-word no admission ! He addressed, on 
 this occasion, a female whose features escaped 
 my observation ; but the harmony of flowers, of 
 stuffs, of the shawl, of the shape of her garment, 
 denote youth, freshness, a slender figure ; it is 
 assuredly impossible that a dress of such taste 
 should cover ill-favoured features. I feel inclined 
 to stop the jaws of this boor, more snappish 
 than Cerberus himself, who was loath to detain 
 Eurydice from her spouse ; I hastened to the ani- 
 mated group : 
 
 " What is it ?" I inquired. 
 
 " ' Why, I am affirming to this lady that 
 Monseigneur is absent, and she will not take my 
 word for it.' 
 
 " The scoundrel fixed his eyes upon me at 
 this moment with all the boldness of a lying 
 keeper. 
 
 " Well, you have done your duty ; but, in 
 the Count's absence, I, who represent him, shall
 
 348 THE PRETENDED 
 
 enter into conversation with Madame, if she will 
 honour me with her confidence. 
 
 " On hearing these words, she turns round, 
 and looks at me. . . .What a face ! what features ! 
 what symmetry ! she is perfection itself ; I fell 
 deeply in love with her ; she follows me to the 
 garden ; the weather was beautiful and warm ; 
 the flowers emitted a delicious perfume ; the at- 
 mosphere around us had a ravishing sweetness. 
 I led to a green bower the fair incognita, whose 
 voice is as yet unknown to me ; I offer her a seat 
 which she accepts ; I occupy mine in such a 
 manner as rather to appear on my knees before 
 a new divinity than seated near one of our prettiest 
 women. 
 
 " The conversation opened ; I desire to know 
 how I can be of service, to you, Madam ? 
 
 "The lady now names herself; she is the 
 Countess de Wontorden, an Austrian, as she pre- 
 tends ; but an accent she would in vain disguise, 
 strikes my practised ear, and reveals the deception. 
 I have not to deal with a haughty German, but 
 w^ith a delicate cunning English woman who no 
 doubt affects simplicity as she will presently assume 
 the garb of virtue. She was assuredly a novice on 
 the political stage. Thus forewarned, I was on 
 my guard against every danger, except that of 
 fine eyes and of the seduction which reluctantly 
 attracts us to this amiable, open-hearted, but per- 
 fidious sex.
 
 AUSTRIAN COUNTESS. 349 
 
 ** It is now my tarn to be questioned as to who 
 I am. 
 
 " The Count's intimate friend." 
 
 " ' What ! you possess all his confidence ?" 
 
 " He has not a thought with which I am not 
 intrusted. 
 
 " A pause ensued; but as I also remained 
 silent : 
 
 " ' I bless my happy star which has led me 
 to the presence of a gentleman . . . . ' 
 
 " She stops and hesitates, when I take up 
 the subject : 
 
 '* Well, Madam !" 
 
 *' ' Whose manners encourage me in manifest- 
 ing sincerity towards him.' 
 
 " Ah snake, thought I, begotten of Eve's serpent, 
 thy sincerity will prove to be a clever but gross 
 imposture which then will fashion into a falsehood 
 for the greater glory of God. 
 
 " I bowed. 
 
 " ' And you inhabit this hotel in the capacity 
 of....' 
 
 " Of a relative, in the nearest degree, and of 
 private secretary." 
 
 " ' Ah ! His Excellency's brother ?' 
 
 " No, Madam." 
 
 " ' His cousin-german ?' 
 
 " A second bow of assent on my part. 
 
 " ' I am brought to France, Sir, by parties 
 of the highest interest ; I desire to do good.
 
 350 THE BRIBE REJECTED. 
 
 to render a service to the prisoners of Verdun.* 
 I am wealthy, and commissioned to act on the 
 part of those who are wealthier still ; they desire 
 to rescue at all cost their relatives who languish 
 in captivity, and would not hesitate as to the 
 price that might be demanded in token of ac- 
 knowledgment.' 
 
 *' Madam,' I coldly replied, 'this no longer con- 
 cerns me ; and, from the moment you have held up 
 gold to my view, 1 am bound to be silent. 
 
 *' Hereupon, she becomes lavish of assurances ; 
 she excuses herself through her ignorance of the 
 language ; she converses on general subjects, ram- 
 bles from one to another, and thrusts forward 
 an abundance of words of double meaning. Count 
 Regnauld can pretend to greater elevation than 
 his present rank ; I should myself become a high 
 personage » . . . I pretend to give way ; and renew 
 offers of service, which are accepted. I solicit 
 permission to pay my respects ; it is granted ; 
 I take down the address ; the lady rises and de- 
 parts, leaving me dazzled with her beauty and 
 
 * Napoleon, on the occasion of the rupture of the peace 
 of Amiens, and in reprisals for the capture of French vessels by 
 British corsairs, previously to the declaration of war, caused all 
 the English to be arrested who were travelling in France and 
 Italy, and sent them to reside as prisoners at Verdun. This 
 measure, which appeared to me to be dictated by prudence and 
 sound policy, was much censured. How could he, otherwise, 
 have punished the bad faith evinced by his enemy ?
 
 THE lady's stipulation. 351 
 
 gracefulness, but wholly mistrustful of her in- 
 tentions. 
 
 *' She is no sooner gone than I fly to the 
 Tuileries, and relate all to Napoleon; such was 
 my custom, and by this sincerity much mischief 
 has been prevented. 
 
 " ' I would lay a wager,' says the Emperor 
 to me, ' that Rovigo is ignorant of the existence 
 of this damsel ; utter not a word to him on the 
 subject ; carry on the intrigue ; I leave you at 
 full liberty to act ; but, beware not to be duped.' 
 
 ** Our acquaintance improves ; I repair to the 
 Countess of Wontorden under my real name ; the 
 only supposition is as to person ; I feign to be 
 in love, — she gives me an indulgent but cold recep- 
 tion. I complain ; she smiles ; I grow angry ; 
 she then says : * What proof would you afford 
 of your love ?' 
 
 " Any proof you may require." 
 
 " * Well, if you can, by means of your re- 
 lations, let me know what are Napoleon's real 
 intentions with respect to Germany, whether he 
 still meditates a descent upon England, and es- 
 pecially if I obtain a list of the names, and the 
 address of those Englishmen, traitors to their 
 country, who are in the service of your sovereign, 
 if you add to it those of German and of French 
 emigrants who are dispersed over the continent 
 to enact the same part ; then, at so signal a
 
 3r^2 THE VEIL WITHDRAWN. 
 
 proof of attachment, 1 shall avow the partiality of 
 my heart.' 
 
 " She had not made such advances without 
 long matured preparations ; nevertheless, the sub-, 
 ject was opened by degrees ; the adventuress 
 fancied herself safe in her avowal, imagining that 
 she held over my affections a despotic sway ; 
 she had, on the contrary, just extinguished them 
 by tearing away the veil ; I now only beheld 
 a pretty intriguer whom it behoved me to unmask. 
 I checked myself, feigned alarm, but did not give 
 a negative answer. 
 
 " ' You have,' she continued, * many more 
 matters to listen to. Contrive to procure me an 
 interview with your cousin ; I am entrusted with a 
 special message for him.' 
 
 " I promised to comply with her wishes ; she 
 was acquainted with Count Regnauld's handwriting, 
 my notes w^ere accordingly copied by one of my 
 secretaries, a trustworthy fellow, full of w^it, a 
 poet, of gentle birth, and polished education, 
 whom you will no doubt have met with in society : 
 Lebrun des Charmettes.* I wrote to her, on my 
 
 * Born at Bordeaux in 1783, M. Lebrun des Charmettes was 
 secretary to Count Regnauld, sub-prefect of St. Calais, and 
 of I know not wbat otber place. Literature, which he success- 
 fully cultivated, is indebted to him for an epic poem, L'Orbanide, 
 the heroine of which is Joan of Arc ; it evinces great talent and 
 poetic rapture. He has published the history of Joan of Arc 
 in four volumes octavo with plates. It is the most complete of any,
 
 THE PRETENDED COUfclN. 353 
 
 return home, that with reference to the wish she 
 signified to my cousin of having an interview 
 with me, I had to express my regret at the impos- 
 sibihty of granting her request, iiaving made it 
 a rule never to hold intercourse with mysterious 
 strangers. My delicacy, on the other hand, was 
 a sure pledge to her of my secrecy ; nevertheless, 
 I added, my cousin will listen to whatever you 
 may be pleased to impart to him, and will repeat 
 to me the conversation which I shall weigh with 
 all the prudence called for by the occasion. 
 
 " I could easily have put a counterpart of 
 myself forward, but was unwilling to extend my 
 confidence, and adhered to my first silence. I 
 am thus become the bearer of my own note ; 
 I perceive that it thwarts the stranger who yet 
 resolves to speak out. Louis XVIII has set 
 down Count Regnauld amongst the statesmen 
 of the revolution with whom it would be most 
 agreeable to him to come to terms. That 
 Prince desires the happiness of France. France 
 cannot be happy without him, for he alone can 
 restore peace, commerce and plenty ; with him, 
 agriculture, the fine arts, industry will revive ; 
 
 is the result of deep research, ■written in a good style and 
 feeling, and full of merit. He has translated many English 
 romances, as well as Lady Morgan's France. He was chief 
 editor of the Aheille newspaper. His father perished on the 
 revolutionary scaffold ; the son is a distinguished administrator, 
 and numbers manv friends, to whose regard he is justly entitled, 
 VOL. I. 2 A
 
 354 THE PROPOSAL ANSWERED. 
 
 animosities within, discord without, will at once 
 come to an end. He praises Uberty on a large 
 scale ; a paternal government, moderation, eco- 
 nomy, two independent chambers, responsible 
 ministers, the vote of taxes by the nation, the 
 press free from all shackles, individual liberty 
 guaranteed, the empire of the laws, the charter 
 in short, such as it has been lately promulgated. 
 
 ** All this was reasonable, and even dazzling ; 
 I acknowledge that I was unable to listen to 
 the details of such a plan without feeling the 
 deepest emotion ; I w^as forced to admit, not- 
 withstanding my attachment for the Emperor, that 
 the man who spoke thus was a fit model for 
 monarchs. I was, therefore, so much affected that, 
 altering my style of language and assuming a 
 grave countenance, I replied : 
 
 " When I speak to you. Madam, rest assured 
 that you are listening to the sentiments that Count 
 Regnauld himself would utter ; be pleased to convey 
 them to M. le Comte de Lille. M. Regnauld would 
 fain have it in his power to receive his commands 
 without being guilty of a crime, without violating 
 any promise, without breaking any oaths, without 
 a betrayal of friendship. He would fulfil them 
 with the most ardent zeal ; but he is bound by the 
 ties of aftection to the sovereign whom he serves, 
 and will never separate himself from him. If 
 Napoleon, in consequence of events which none 
 can foresee, and which there is every reason to
 
 THE DECEPTION DETECTED. 355 
 
 believe of impossible occurrence, should himself 
 release M. Regnauld from his engagements, he 
 would then serve the family of the Bourbons by 
 every means in his power. Until such a chance 
 should come to pass, the Count must rest satisfied 
 with anxiously praying for their happiness. His 
 good wishes go no further, and would cease as 
 soon as the members of that house should think 
 themselves warranted in emerging from their pre- 
 sent state of quiet, and again attempting to disturb 
 the condition of Europe. 
 
 ** I know not what expression my countenance 
 assumed on uttering these words, which, in short, 
 conveyed a flash of light to her mind which had 
 not hitherto struck her ; certain it is that she 
 started, kindled into animation, and, falling back 
 a step, said to me with deep anguish : 
 
 " ' Oh ! you have shamefully deceived me ; 
 you are Count Regnauld himself, and not his 
 cousin.' 
 
 " This was uttered with such inward conviction, 
 that coloring up myself, and taken by surprise, 
 sensible, besides, that no success could attend 
 any attempt to maintain the deception, I began to 
 smile. 
 
 " It would ill become me to deny it ; but 
 
 is this so guilty an act, and have I changed my 
 
 heart for having taken another name ? assuredly 
 
 not ; for you do not exercise sway over the heart 
 
 of my relation but over mine." 
 
 2 a2
 
 35G 
 
 ATTEMPTS TO ASSASSINATE 
 
 * Nevertheless,' she resumed, * you deny me 
 what I ask ; you sacrifice me to your God, or 
 rather to your demon.' 
 
 " Oh ! Madam ,be sparing of your reproaches ; 
 let two verses of our celebrated fable writer be your 
 rule of conduct. They have been the guide of 
 my whole hfe : 
 
 " On ne j)eut trop louer trois sortes de personnes, 
 Son Dieu, sa maltresse, et son Roi." 
 
 " The Countess was silent — she was dissatisfied 
 — and I regretted it. Then it was, that by a quick 
 inward reflection, I shuddered at perceiving how 
 great was the ascendancy which I had allowed 
 her to acquire over my heart. I gently chid 
 this extreme waywardness, which subjected me 
 to a worse reception at the very moment when 
 I acquired greater importance in her sight. 
 
 " 'Alas!' she promptly replied, 'I then in- 
 dulged the hope of bringing you round to my 
 wish ; whereas, I now feel that there is no hope of 
 success.' 
 
 " Rejoice at this result, and renounce a game 
 so beset with dangers ; j^ou may be happy by 
 dismissing diplomatic pursuits from your mind. . . . 
 
 " Eight days afterwards, a servant and one 
 of my secretaries warned me that an attempt 
 had been made to tamper with them. I was 
 returning one night alone and on foot, two men
 
 COUNT REGNAULD. 357 
 
 attacked me as I came out of the Rue de Hanovre ; 
 they would have murdered me but for the ap- 
 proach of the patrol. On another occasion, whilst 
 quitting the opera amongst the crowd, I was struck 
 with a dagger which was stopped by my morocco 
 pocket-book full of papers. 
 
 " I was silent respecting these attempts at my 
 life, in order not to disturb the peace of ray family, 
 but I requested the police to watch over my safety. 
 I was immeasurably removed from a correct sur- 
 mise on the subject, when the Duke of Rovigo 
 called upon me one morning in breathless haste. 
 I felt surprised at his presence. 
 
 " ' Are you acquainted, Count, with a Countess 
 Wontorden?' 
 
 " I occasionally see her." 
 
 " ' Would you feel much annoyed if I were 
 to have her arrested ?' 
 
 *' Have you then a crow to pluck with each 
 other ?" 
 
 " ' The case is not mine ; but your own.' 
 
 " For my part, I replied with a smile, I bear 
 her no ill-will ; and, as for her, I do not think her 
 my enemy." 
 
 " 'In this, you are mistaken ; you have lodged 
 information of two murderous attempts upon your 
 life. Five have been made ; another is preparing 
 for to-morrow. It depends upon yourself that 
 it should be the last ; the question is whether
 
 358 POLICE REPORTS. 
 
 you will persist in a blind confidence, or be pleased 
 to follow my advice V 
 
 " I was amazed with this language. Could my 
 dear, my beautiful Countess whom I had con- 
 verted to my opinion, attempt to betray me, and 
 even deprive me of my life? My astonishment 
 excited the Duke's risible faculties to my very 
 great annoyance ; he then took up various papers, 
 the appearance of which revealed them to be what 
 are called police reports. He read four of them in 
 the following order : 
 
 " 'No. 1.— In the Rue des Hotel de 
 
 resides for the last two months and a half Countess 
 Albertine de Wontorden, a lady of quahty in 
 the circle of upper Austria. She came to Paris 
 to enjoy the pleasures of the capital and consult 
 medical men ; however, she has not seen any ; 
 she has much intercourse with Count Regnauld de 
 Saint-Jean d'Angely, and transmits business as 
 they call it ; she is a suitor, money in hand, 
 and obtains ... ' 
 
 " I started up, waxed warm, and, with a volley 
 of oaths told the minister of police that his spy 
 Avas an impostor, a calumniator, who alone de- 
 served punishment, and not the Countess, who was 
 innocent of such guilty manoeuvres, since she 
 never had spoken to me, (this w^as the truth,) of 
 any French intriguers. The Duke allowed my 
 rage its free scope, and thus continued :
 
 POLICE REPORTS. 359 
 
 " ' And obtains favors which she turns to good 
 account ; but this is not all ; this pretended Ger- 
 man Countess is an English woman by birth, 
 the daughter of a minister of the name of P. . . . 
 She came to the continent and to France with a mis- 
 sion to watch public functionaries, and win them 
 over to the cause of the Bourbons ; this has 
 been discovered by means of an intercepted cor- 
 respondence in cyphers.' 
 
 " ' No. 2. — Count Regnauld's life is not safe. 
 Last night, in the Rue de Hanovre, an Italian 
 and an Englishman, in the pay of the said Won- 
 tordon, have attempted to murder him. A patrol 
 disconcerted the wretches. The Italian went to 
 bed, the Englishman repaired to his mistress, 
 where he got intoxicated ; and this creature, who 
 is in the pay of the police, exerted herself to make 
 him disclose what he knew ; he related the miscar- 
 ried assault. Being asked why this adventuress 
 sought the life of H. E. Monseigneur Regnauld, 
 he replied that he was ignorant of it.' 
 
 " ' No. 3.— H. E. Monseigneur the Count 
 Regnauld was entering the court-yard of the Prince 
 Arch-Chancellor on Tuesday last, an air-gun was 
 fired from the doorway into his carriage. The 
 ball passed through, and, as the windows were 
 down, no report was heard. This attempt was 
 made by Marco the Italian, a native of Venice ; 
 the Englishman and two cut-throats were in his 
 company, and formed a group. This account was
 
 360 POLICE REPORTS. 
 
 also derived from the Englishman Hill's commu- 
 nication to his mistress.' 
 
 " ' No. 4. — An attempt has been made to 
 tamper with the man servant who cleans the floors of 
 Count Regnauld's apartments, and to induce him 
 to throw a powder, to be given for the purpose, 
 into water decanters and jars, from whence the 
 said Count might draw the water which he daily 
 drinks. Two persons came to make a similar de- 
 claration to the police, and have furnished a des- 
 cription of those who made the aforesaid proposals 
 to them.' 
 
 " ' No. 5. — Marco affirms that Count Regnauld 
 is shielded by Satan ; for he attempted the other 
 night to stab him with a glass dagger, as he 
 was leaving the opera ; the murderous instrument 
 broke against Count Regnauld's breast.' 
 
 " ' No. 6. — Yesterday, at seven precisely, Count 
 Regnauld went, according to custom, to visit 
 Madame Augustine .... Rue de la Michodiere .... 
 Marco followed, ascended the staircase after him, 
 and, availing himself of the absence of mind of the 
 Count, who had left the door open, he entered 
 after him, concealed himself in a dark closet, 
 and was preparing to take advantage of the oppor- 
 tunity, which in all appearance would prove favor- 
 able to his design, when the Count with his usual 
 absence mechanically gave a double turn to the 
 key belonging to the door of the cabinet, and shut 
 in Marco, so as to prevent his coming out without
 
 POISON AND CHOCOLATE. 361 
 
 making a noise. Marco, foaming with rage, had to 
 wait until the Count retired ; the young woman 
 also left. Marco then began to work with his 
 dagger, burst a couple of doors open, and came 
 with imprecations to tell the Englishman, then 
 in the company of his mistress, the misfortune 
 which had just befallen him. This mistress, by 
 name Emilie Lisbin, was so indignant at the per- 
 verseness of these monsters, that she instantly 
 came to make her report. 
 
 " Well Count," said the minister of general 
 poHce, ** think you that we are so indifferently 
 informed ?" 
 
 " In truth, Monsieur le Ministre, I will frankly 
 own to your Excellency, how great was my sur- 
 prise that such villains should be allowed to be at 
 large." 
 
 " You would be quite right, if the closest watch 
 were not set upon them ; they walk abroad, but 
 do not stir a step which is not known. They shall 
 be pounced upon the very moment I so order it. 
 I was first anxious to see you. You are invited to 
 breakfast to-morrow at the Countess' house. 
 
 '' Yes." 
 
 " An active poison is spoken of, which is to be 
 thrown into the cup of chocolate to be presented 
 to you. Will you go and exchange cups with the 
 lady ? The men in that case will not be arrested 
 until the report is over ; in the contrary case, I
 
 362 A PLAN OF ESCAPE. 
 
 shall have all the wretches taken up within twenty- 
 minutes from this time." 
 
 " I own to you," said Count Regnauld, " that 
 I hesitated a moment as to what I should do ; T do 
 not boast of more courage than I really possess. 
 I am a man for the cabinet, and not for action, 
 and felt little inclined to expose myself to such 
 palpable danger ; for it was possible that the 
 unfeeling Countess, in her apprehension of non- 
 success, might dispatch me to the next world. 
 Nevertheless, the fear of Savary's bantering jests, 
 added to the moral courage we feel in the moment 
 we cowardly civilians are called upon to display it, 
 made me determine to run all risks of the adven- 
 ture. 
 
 " The Duke, moreover, allayed my fears ; every 
 possible measure of prudence had been taken to 
 save me from a wilful murder. I was fully re- 
 solved, besides, to feign illness, and to eat nothing 
 but fresh eggs. I also felt anxious to unmask this 
 worthless adventuress. I thanked the Duke, who 
 returned to his functions ; on my part, 
 
 Honteux comme un renard qu'une poule aurait pris, 
 Baissant la queue, et portant bas I'oreille. 
 
 I went, by way of self-punishment, to entertain 
 the Emperor with this novel occurrence. Oh ! my 
 friend, how could I be otherwise than devoted to
 
 THE emperor's anger. • 363 
 
 the excellent Prince? could you have seen his 
 rage, his horror, his indignation, during the re- 
 cital made to him ; he was like a roaring lion. He 
 forbade my repairing to the breakfast, caused the 
 house to be instantly surrounded, and the English- 
 man and his nefarious accomplices to be arrested. 
 He bounded with rage. I had great difficulty in 
 pacifying him, and inducing him to alter his mind ; 
 and he made me promise, that after my visit 
 to this second Circ6, I should come in person 
 to give him an account of what had taken place. 
 
 " I could but feebly convey to you his affec- 
 tionate emotion. He was no longer the mighty 
 monarch indifferent to private details, but an ardent 
 friend inwardly suffering at the thought of the danger 
 about to be incurred by his second self. Had 
 I indeed ten lives, I would sacrifice them all for 
 his sake. 
 
 " My sleep was restless, and disturbed by fright- 
 ful dreams. I could not resist settling various 
 affairs on the following morning. My secret was 
 repeatedly on the point of escaping my lips. I left 
 home, however, without revealing it. The Coun- 
 tess received me with her usual warmth ; she had 
 brought several strangers together; ail were unknown 
 to me. Along the stair case, in the ante-room, 
 the restaurateurs, and ice shops' assistants were em- 
 ployed in bringing dishes and ices. There were also 
 many servants of the persons invited, besides other 
 attendants. Every thing exhibited indications of 
 the mysterious stamp of the police, and thus
 
 364 THE CUPS EXCHANGED. 
 
 satisfied me that I had not been exposed alone to 
 the mercy of my enemies. 
 
 " I was sad, in spite of my endeavours to appear 
 cheerful ; the Countess chid me for it. 1 spoke 
 of the bad night I had passed; breakfast was 
 announced. I held the place of honor near the 
 lady of the house ; she urged me to eat : I had no 
 appetite, for anxiety had in fact deprived me of 
 all inclination to partake of any thing. I eat two 
 soft eggs ; of dainties I selected at hazard, and a 
 little fruit ; 1 drank nothing. At last, the an- 
 nounced chocolate makes its appearance ; we were 
 brought together to decide upon its merits ; a cup 
 is placed before each guest, mine is filled before 
 every other : I raised no objection, but exclaimed 
 on a sudden : — 
 
 " Oh Madam, can I allow myself to be served 
 before you ? no, no, I am too anxious an assertor 
 of French gallantry, not to insist upon your taking 
 what you so kindly intended for myself. 
 
 " I had hastened, ere I spoke, to place, by a 
 rapid movement, my full cup before the Countess, 
 and to take possession of the empty one which had 
 been reserved for her. 
 
 " How shall I express the indescribable look 
 she cast upon me whilst this exchange was going 
 on ? shall I say that it unsettled my heart, or 
 rather that it threw a new light upon it ? A crowd 
 of ideas rushed upon my mind : every thing in the 
 house became suspicious in my sight ; my eyes 
 sparkled with fire, my ears tingled with a sharp
 
 MYSTERIOUS CONDUCT. 365 
 
 murmur, I hardly heard what was said. I assuredlv 
 saw nothing that was passing before me. 
 
 " The lady, who was no less agitated, turned 
 pale and red by turns, complained of my excessive 
 politeness, and urged me to take back my cup. I 
 opposed it. She made a sign to the servant who 
 was pouring out the chocolate ; he left off serving 
 round the table, came to me, poured out the whole- 
 some and frothy mixture, whilst his mistress fixed 
 her eye upon me ; oh ! this was no longer a doubt- 
 ful look. 
 
 " I am too ill, I said ; it would be quite 
 out of my power to drink this chocolate." 
 
 " ' It has been prepared expressly for you,' she 
 replied with a reproachful tone. 
 
 " I know it. Madam ; I had been before hand 
 apprized of it." 
 
 " ' So 1 perceive ; and it only remains for me 
 to prove to you how much you have been deceived. 
 Pusillanimous men, who are frightened at a mere 
 jest !' 
 
 " A sardonic look of contempt overspread her 
 lips. All this had been spoken in so subdued a 
 tone as not to be overheard. 
 
 " ' Look,' she continued in the same tone, ' and 
 blush at your cowardice ! ' 
 
 " She then takes the cup which I considered 
 to be the poisoned one, brings it to her mouth, 
 closes her eyes, and drinks the contents to the very 
 last drop.
 
 366 THE PLOT FRUSTRATED. 
 
 *' ' Well,' she said, ' are you not ashamed, and 
 will you not pledge me in return?' 
 
 " I hesitated : my confusion was at its height ; 
 nevertheless, her matchless glance was still present 
 to my mind. I laid hold of the cup, the Countess 
 brightened up ; I laid it down, she turned pale ; 
 her whole frame was agitated with a convulsive 
 movement .... I could no longer doubt, and 
 suddenly rising from my seat, I said to this guilty 
 woman : 
 
 " You are ill, I perceive : in the name of Hea- 
 ven, Madam, retire to your apartment. Let a 
 doctor be sent for." 
 
 " ' No,' she replied, ' I am quite well, just as I 
 could wish to be.' 
 
 ** At this moment, one of the police agents who 
 was present, waiting for a sign from me, laid hold 
 of my cup still full of chocolate, as if to remove it 
 from me. The Countess uttered, at this sight, not 
 a cry, but a frightful yell. She rose, attempted to 
 seize the porcelain ; I interposed, she fell fainting 
 into her arm-chair. This accident threw the guests 
 into confusion ; I assumed an authoritative tone, 
 and invited them to withdraw, in order to leave the 
 people of the house at liberty to attend upon their 
 mistress, who was labouring, I said, under a violent 
 nervous attack. All hastened to take my ad- 
 vice. 
 
 " The apartment was filled, in a moment, with a 
 swarm of public functionaries and police officers.
 
 CORNEILLE's CLEOPATRA. 367 
 
 each coming to draw up warrants or offer assist- 
 ance. At the very commencement of breakfast, 
 the pohce had arrested Marco, the ItaUan, and the 
 EngHshman, Hill. Both cups had been prepared 
 beforehand ; for it had been foreseen that I should 
 act the courteous man ; it was hoped, in that case 
 that, if I handed my cup to the adventuress, I 
 should have no suspicion of her own. She was 
 to invent a pretext for not drinking ; so that I was 
 in every event doomed to perish. I had defeated 
 this plan ; and borne away by her hatred, by her 
 thirst for revenge, she hesitated not to repeat the 
 act of Corneille's Cleopatra, in hopes that when I 
 saw her swallow the portion intended for me, I 
 would have no hesitation in swallowing her own. 
 It needed greater command over herself to succeed 
 in her object : for her intentions had too visibly 
 manifested themselves in her physiognomy. For 
 the rest, you will ask why so much bitterness 
 against me ? Hear, then, my candid answer, though 
 silent I must be on that point, which I never can 
 clear up — I must acknowledge I had wrongs to 
 atone for as regarded her. 
 
 " The medical man I had sent for, and who 
 had been kept in constant attendance near the spot 
 where this tragical scene was enacting, in order to 
 be prepared in any event, arrived whilst the guests 
 were leaving the house. They were closely fol- 
 lowed by spies and several were arrested. They
 
 368 DEATH-BED OF 
 
 had come with evil designs against my person, but, 
 on seeing the turn matters had taken, abstained 
 from any attempt. Various punishments were 
 meted out to them. 
 
 " Removed to her bed-room, the Countess had 
 fallen from one convulsion into another. This was 
 imagined to be the effect of the poison ; but she 
 dispelled the impression, for, having asked to 
 speak with me, she said in presence of the doctor, 
 the judge, and the police commissary : — 
 
 " ' The efforts that will be made to save my life 
 are all in vain. The poison which I have taken 
 baffles the attempts of the faculty to remove it ; it 
 "will act imperceptibly, without leaving any traces ; 
 and unless its effects be accelerated, I shall live till 
 the eightieth or hundredth day from the present 
 time. You have been fortunate,' said she, to me 
 with composure. * We have each our wrongs. 
 I am an Englishw^oman, I hate France ; I hoped 
 to serve it an ill turn. As for you . . . . ' 
 
 " She darted at me a look of so much expression 
 that I bent down my head. I could not even 
 remain any longer near her ; my poor heart was 
 breaking. I assure you, that if I had really be- 
 lieved the cup to contain poison ere she drank 
 it off, I was completely deceived by her determi- 
 nation to do so, and only resumed my former mis- 
 trust as my eye caught her significant countenance, 
 whilst I hesitated what to do with my own cup.
 
 THE COUNTESS WONTORDEN. 369 
 
 What became of her ? I asked the Count. 
 
 " I opposed her being arrested. The Emperor, 
 in the most obliging manner, granted my request. 
 She was removed to a private mad-house ; the 
 most skilful attentions were lavished upon her. 
 Our first rate doctors vied with each other in 
 endeavours to counteract the effect of the poison, 
 but all in vain ; she expired eighty-nine days after- 
 wards. Ask me no question respecting her last 
 moments ; they were frightful, and plunged me 
 into despair. Be assured, my friend, that the best 
 thing we can do, when young, is to obtain the 
 affection of women, without showing it in return ; 
 and when of riper years, to follow the Marquis de 
 Carraccioli's example." 
 
 A tragic tale was thus cheerfully closed with 
 a witty saying; it had, however, fixed itself upon my 
 mind, and created a painful impression. When we 
 returned to the gardens, the Prince perceived the 
 gloom upon my countenance. He was easily 
 annoyed. He knew that I saw much society ; I was 
 related to many persons about the court, to the 
 Duke Abbe de Montesquieu amongst others, and 
 he fancied that such exalted personages conde- 
 scended perhaps to notice a bashful young man 
 when lost in a crowd ; such was not the case ; I was 
 alike unknown and indifferent to them. 
 
 Convinced, therefore, that under the new re- 
 gime, and during the triumph of my peers, I was 
 welcomed with that obliging kindness I. had always 
 
 VOL. I. 2 b
 
 370 BARON DE PUYMAURIN. 
 
 met with from the men of the Empire, the Prince 
 noticed me in the midst of his circle ; for, in 
 1814, he had still kept up a species of court. 
 After 1815, on the contrary, our numbers were 
 much reduced when he was allowed to return ; 
 the Prince, then, drew me aside, and said to me : 
 
 " ' What have you heard, Leon, what has come 
 to your knowledge ? is there some illegal measure 
 
 in contemplaton ? Ca threw out some hint 
 
 of it yesterday in this place, and he is generally 
 well informed.' 
 
 I shook my head. 
 
 " ' What ails you ? open your mind ; I believe 
 in your attachment.' 
 
 " Monseigneur would be wrong to doubt it ; 
 but I advise you, and I do so with great reluctance, 
 
 to beware of Ca , and by degrees to shake 
 
 him off altogether. No later than yesterday, I 
 was dining with my relative and friend. Baron 
 de Puymaurin, a member of the chamber of de- 
 puties ■* Ca had paid him a visit that very 
 
 * Jean Casimir Pierre de Marcasus, Baron de Puymaurin, 
 Commander of the Legion of Honour, perpetual member, from 
 1800 to 1830, of the Chamber of Deputies, Ex-Director of the 
 medal branch of the Mint, was born at Toulouse, of a family 
 of distinction, and, which is quite as good, revered for the eminent 
 services'it had rendered his country. On the 5tli December 1767. 
 his father was principal Syndic of the province of Languedoc, an 
 office of the highest importance, which was only conferred upon 
 men of honor, merit and virtue : times have greatly altered. A
 
 AN IMPERIAL MOUCHE. 371 
 
 morning ; and gave me the following account of 
 his visit : 
 
 ** ' Fouche was still at the head of the police 
 when, having called to pay him a visit, he sud- 
 denly said, in the language of friendship : ' Be 
 
 very sparing of words whenever Ca may come 
 
 to prowl about you.' Reflecting upon these words, 
 and determined to watch the movements of the 
 dissembler, I saw him constantly gliding into the 
 chamber of deputies, at one time into the library, 
 at another into the hall of conferences, without any 
 apparent object, and he remained fixed to the spot. 
 I felt annoyed at it. Wearied at seeing him wan- 
 dering about each group of deputies, 1 at last 
 used him roughly on one occasion, told him that 
 
 model of ancient fidelity, a skilful chemist, a theorist and a prac- 
 tical man, his cutting language hits home. His comparison of 
 calumny is well remembered : it resembles coal which is sure to 
 blacken if it does not burn. He had introduced into France, as 
 early as 17 87, the art of engraving upon glass by means of fluoric 
 acid. He perfected, in 1812, the art of extracting indigo from 
 wood, so as to challenge comparison with the best indigo of 
 Bengal or Guatimala. A sincere, trusty, and warm friend, a 
 learned man of the first order, a distinguished Uterary character, he 
 is not known to have a single enemy ; he has belied the old 
 proverb, for he has even been a prophet in his own country. He 
 enjoys pubHc consideration ; but he has not been playing a 
 comedy during the fifteen years. His son who resigned, in 1830, 
 his post of Director of the medal branch of the Mint, which our 
 Kings had bestowed upon him, nobly treads in his father's 
 footsteps. 
 
 2 B 2
 
 372 THE IMPERIAL MOUCHE. 
 
 he had no business there, that his constant at- 
 tendance gave rise to suspicions, and that he 
 would do well to check the frequency of his visits. 
 So saying, in the hearing of a dozen people, I left 
 him, proceeded to the tribune, and thought no more 
 of the man. He was at my house before seven the 
 next morning ; I thought he came to propose a 
 walk to the Bois de Boulogne, and the old Tolousan 
 blood was already boiling in my veins ; but nothing 
 was farther from his mind ! My man came to 
 shed tears, to sigh, to swear by his hope of heaven, 
 that he had never, directly or indirectly, belonged 
 to the police ; that he was greatly calumniated 
 by such a charge, adding, that if he knew the 
 original author of it, he would pluck out his heart. 
 
 " ' I must then make him known to you,' 
 replied Baron de Puymaurin, ' he is neither more 
 nor less than the Duke of Otranto ; he it was who 
 affirmed to me that you belonged to his establish- 
 ment ; I will assert it to his face. It is for you 
 now to consider what you have to do.' 
 
 " Annihilated by this blow, Ca withdrew, 
 
 pocketing the affiont, and relieved me of his infec- 
 tious presence ; for he is as offensive as a dead 
 rat. Ever since this explanation, I had long ceased 
 to see him either at the chamber of deputies or at 
 my own house. One evening, however, he re- 
 appeared, and said to me in a piteous tone of voice : 
 
 " ' What think you, my friend, of such base 
 ingratitude ; my best services have, for the last
 
 THE IMPERIAL MOUCHE. 373 
 
 fifteen years, been devoted to the government. 
 I hold certificates from Regnier, from Fouche, 
 from Savary, who have all attested my zeal and 
 attachment. I have continued making reports ever 
 since the first of April, and may still be found 
 of the greatest use from my intercourse with the 
 men of Bonaparte. Well, then ! instead of re- 
 w^arding me, of gladly availing themselves of the 
 services of a man of birth (this was a falsehood) 
 they are on the point of dismissing me. They 
 should at least give me, by way of compensation 
 on my retirement, a situation of inspector of 
 gaming houses. You are serviceable, humane, 
 in short — my friend ! 
 
 *' Moi, votre ami ! raycz cela de vos papiers." 
 
 " I exclaimed. 
 
 *' ' You are very witty ; the quotation from the 
 Misanthrope is delightful. But still do take my 
 papers in hand, a note of my campaigns (such 
 was his expression) ; see d'Andre, see the chan- 
 cellor, (M. d'Aubray), the minister of the interior 
 (the Abbe, since de Montesquiou) , and exert your- 
 self to have me retained in the service, or credi- 
 tably transferred to the lease of the gaming houses 
 of Paris.' 
 
 " How is this ? said I to him ; do you re- 
 collect, last year, your virtuous indignation on
 
 374 THE IMPERIAL MOUCHE. 
 
 tlie occasion of my apostrophizing you in the 
 hall of conferences ? 
 
 ' ' ' What could I do ? you stormed ; and such 
 truths are only acknowledged in the last extremity. 
 Come, then, let me rely upon your support, and 
 I am sure of my place.' 
 
 " Such, Monseigneur, I added, is yesterday's 
 narration, word for word, as I received it from 
 a man who is incapable of calumniating another, 
 and whose assertions possess, in my mind, all the 
 force of truth. 
 
 " I saw the Prince bite his lip. 
 
 " ' Oh ! the wretch !' he exclaimed. ' No later 
 than yesterday, he will have it in his power to 
 pick up a large stock from what he heard at 
 my house ; but he shall never more be admitted.' 
 
 " Your Serene Highness will do well to exclude 
 him." 
 
 " ' Yes ; but you are sad. What have you 
 heard from M. de Puymaurin, the Abbe de Mon- 
 tesquiou, or the Duke de Duras ?' 
 
 " Nothing : the first, because he knows nothing 
 of what concerns you ; the other two, because 
 I am never in their company ; the last is even 
 ignorant of my name ; the second is, no doubt, 
 acquainted with me, but, judging from his cold 
 reception, I perceive he does not deem me worthy 
 of his confidence. 
 
 " * I have, therefore, nothing to apprehend V
 
 A POSSIBLE EVENT. 3/5 
 
 *' Why, Monseigneur, perceive you not the 
 brightness of the Restoration ? We may all sing 
 in chorus with Ah of the Beauty and the Beast, 
 shghtly altering Marmontel's verses : 
 
 " Ces Bourbons dont on nous fait peur 
 Sent les meilleurs gens du monde." 
 
 " * Very true ; they put no bounds to their 
 clemency ; I could accordingly wish every one 
 remained quiet ; whereas all, on the contrary, are 
 in motion, restless, caballing ! Do you belong to 
 any association?' 
 
 " No more than to that of free-masonry, or 
 of the white penitents. The part of a conspirator 
 is only adapted to dupes or ambitious men. I will 
 not be the one ; thank heaven, I am not the other. 
 I am attached to the Emperor. My blood, ray 
 life, my all — is at his disposal ; but I will not evince 
 my attachment to him by contributing to disturb 
 the repose of France. I beheve that his return is 
 possible ; should it take place, — should he come 
 back as conqueror, I shall resume my costume ; 
 until then, I shall attend the existing representation 
 as a mere spectator." 
 
 " ' You are not in quest of employment?' 
 
 " I have offered myself to the new government, 
 as every other functionary has done, but Irom 
 a distance, by letters, and without protection. I 
 was forgotten on my first arrival in Paris ; I
 
 376 THE ABBE DE BERNIS. 
 
 went in August to visit the Abbe de Montesquieu, 
 and recalled to his mind our family connection ; 
 he spoke to me of my father, his college friend, 
 of their boxing matches, of their intimacy; he 
 
 then referred me to M. B , who held to me 
 
 this remarkable language : 
 
 " ' Sir, you are at the door of a theatre ; you 
 have a ticket, and cannot obtain admittance : it is 
 only by means of an addition to the price that you 
 can enter before others.' 
 
 " ' Did he tell you so V exclaimed the Prince. 
 
 " Yes, Monseigneur, without the slighest hesi- 
 tation, and in the presence of my wife, who can 
 bear witness to it. T was unwilling to give the 
 additional price ; and, with my mind full of Napo- 
 leon, and convinced of his return, I repeated to 
 
 M. B the celebrated expression of the Abbe 
 
 de Bernis to the Bishop of Mirepoix : ' Monseigneur, 
 I shall wait /'* save and except that I did not give 
 
 * The Abbe de Bernis, a gentleman of excellent family though 
 a poor man, at one time the lover of Madame Henrietta de France, 
 daughter of Louis XV, and aftenvards of Madame de Pompadour. 
 He became Archbishop of Alby, minister for foreign affairs. Cardi- 
 nal, Ambassador to the Holy See ; he was an academician, a poet, a 
 man of the world, and ended by becoming a pious and charitable 
 man. He started from Cuhera on his way to Heaven, where his 
 virtues have no doubt procured him admission. He had the 
 mortification to witness the revolution, his death having only 
 occurred in 1796. When young, he was a suitor for a benefice 
 at the hands of the active Boyer, Bishop of Mirepoix; this
 
 NAPOLEON AND THE ALLIES. 377 
 
 the title of Monseigneur to my grasping hypo- 
 crite. 
 
 " ' To reveal himself in such a manner !' 
 " It is unaccountable, I acknowledge ; but I 
 heard him utter the words ; my wife, I repeat it, as 
 distinctly heard him ; this is the occasion for 
 saying with Boileau : 
 
 Le vrai pent quelquefois n'etre pas vraisemblable ; 
 
 which, nevertheless, does not alter the fact." 
 
 " ' Are you, then, persuaded that Napoleon will 
 return ?' 
 
 " It cannot be otherwise." 
 
 " 'I 1 fear so.' 
 
 " Your Serene Highness fears it ?" 
 
 " ' Yes, Sir, he will hurl us both into fresh 
 convulsions ; Europe is still in arms. The sovereigns 
 have testified their hatred of him ; they are aware 
 that, admonished by their conduct towards him, he 
 would not forgive them, if he again acquire the 
 
 worthy prelate, feeling little delighted at the ruins and gallantries 
 of the Abbe de Bernis, replied : A benefice for you ? you shall 
 never have one so long as I am a minister. — / shall trait, Mon- 
 seigneur. This happy expression proved a prelude to the fortune 
 of the man thus out of favour. M. Boyer used to sign himself 
 I'Anc de Mirepoix, (an abbreviation for I'Ancien) ; and Voltaire 
 pretended to read, by way of erratum, Udne de Mirepoix ; this 
 was jocose. Priests were murdered at a later period, which was 
 worse ; but from raillery to crime the step is easy ; impiety leads 
 to every crime.
 
 378 LETTER FROM NAPOLEON 
 
 ascendancy ; and, in the first hostile demonstration 
 on his part, they will all march in concert against 
 him ; he will find France unprovided with soldiers, 
 or ammunition. . . . ; he has written to me.' 
 
 *' Ah ! how happy you must be !" 
 
 *' ' I can shew you his letter ; you will see 
 what are his sentiments.' 
 
 " I rather think I shall only see what he has 
 written to you. 
 
 " The Prince took me into his study, where 
 I read the following letter, which I hastily copied 
 off in pencil : — 
 
 " ' Prince, 
 
 " ' I am in good health ; I hope my letter may 
 also find you in the enjoyment of it. I am 
 informed you lead a quiet life ; are you contented ? 
 1 imagined they would employ you .... they are 
 fortunate in having found men superior to you .... 
 1 grow visibly stouter, though I am never at rest ; 
 this is a small island, a handful of earth, or rather, 
 a mass of rock. 
 
 " ' What is there going on in Paris ? Is novelty 
 still new ? They say the court make but little 
 show. The counties are poor ; they will grow 
 richer .... are you freed from our friends ? Their 
 visit costs dear ; it is fortunately well known where 
 one may take back what they carry away ; there is 
 no difficulty in treading over a beaten road .... 
 I see but little of my family ; the Empress mother
 
 TO PRINCE CAMBACERES. 379 
 
 is admirable in her endearments. Poor Pauline 
 would afford me consolation, if I stood in need 
 of it; her's is a heroic attachment.., .So much 
 harm is said of me, that my name is not likely 
 to be so soon forgotten .... Bestow some thought 
 upon your Emperor, or your colleague, as you 
 please; he does not forget you.... What are my 
 gallant soldiers doing ? how are they treated ? 
 on what footing are they at the Chateau ? are 
 they rewarded for having deserted me ? I forgive 
 them. They stood in need of trying a Bourbon, in 
 order the better to appreciate their Bonaparte. 
 
 " * Whereupon, Sir, my cousin, may God have 
 you in his holy keeping. 
 
 " * Your affectionate friend, 
 
 *' * fSignedJ Napoleon.' 
 
 Without a date. I kissed that sacred hand- 
 writing, nor can I resist doing so as often as 
 the Emperor's signature comes within my reach ; 
 let this be forgiven me. As a monarch, he is 
 my first love; my second love is forH. M. Louis 
 XVIII. I only reveal my sentiments when their 
 object is already in the grave— in this I prove a 
 bad courtier ; accordingly 1 am not of that regime. 
 
 The Prince returned, and said jokingly : 
 
 " * I smell a copied letter.' 
 
 " Yes, Monseigneur, but copied in pencil, and
 
 380 REGNAULD AND CARNOT. 
 
 with SO many abbreviations that my heart alone 
 can decipher it ; my eyes would fail in the attempt. 
 
 " You see in it the proof of his persevering to 
 remain where he is." 
 
 " Yes, until the day w^hen, surfeited with 
 novelty, the nation will desire to return to the old 
 system." 
 
 " This will not be so soon." 
 
 " Monseigneur, we are treading the beaten track, 
 only to tread it over, again." 
 
 " Yes, this is the knot, I have understood 
 it as you do ; what a man ! he is w^ealthy, en- 
 joys every consideration, is no longer young. In 
 his place " 
 
 I was silent ; I might have replied by the old 
 adage ; 1 abstained on this occasion. The Prince 
 continued : — 
 
 " Attend to what I am going to say: you 
 visit Count Regnauld and Carnot : well ! assure 
 them that, contented with my position, I have no 
 desire to change it ; I should refuse all co-opera- 
 tion in acts which might afford the highest promise 
 of success. I will neither take part in them 
 personally nor by procuring aid. Repeat it, 
 proclaim it on the house-tops. There are men devoid 
 of all reserve or discretion. A certain Colonel 
 
 S , came to propose that I should place 
 
 myself at the head of a plot, of which he is the 
 main-spring. Nothing was wanting except a sum 
 of a thousand crowns : I shewed him the door.
 
 THE VICOUNTESS DE F.... 381 
 
 General E , General V , and other 
 
 madmen of the same stamp, have made me like 
 proposals. I am neither a disinterested nor a 
 factious man ; I complain of nobody ; why then 
 should I give others more concern for me than I 
 take for myself?" 
 
 The Prince was roused : I took good care that 
 not a gesture, a look, a motion of my lips, should 
 interrupt him. On such occasions, I had always 
 something to learn. 
 
 " Last week," he continued, " the Viscountess 
 
 de F was announced to me, a madwoman I 
 
 had long lost sight of ; I was courteous to her, and 
 she thus addressed me : — 
 
 *' ' My dear M. Cambaceres, you have held too 
 conspicuous a rank for the last twenty-five years, 
 and that amongst the enemies of our sainted 
 family, not readily to understand the necessity of 
 affording to the Bourbons, and to those who 
 worship them, a pledge of your return to better 
 sentiments. ..." 
 
 '' Madam " 
 
 " ' Sir, I am your friend ; I grieve at the position 
 in which you stand, and dream of extricating you 
 from it ; I think I have discovered the thread that 
 will lead you out of the labyrinth. It has occurred 
 to me that a signal act of munificence, on your part, 
 would be productive of an effect highly advan- 
 tageous to you, and such as you would feel 
 beholden to me for having pointed out. Hun-
 
 382 A BENEVOLENT SCHEME. 
 
 dreds of persons have been crushed by the Revolu- 
 tion ; and, as you were amongst the revolutionists, 
 you must take your share of blame for their 
 misfortunes. Now, then, select twenty-five widows 
 of quality, all of them without children ; they are 
 the most entitled to protection ; establish them in 
 a house which I undertake to have erected into a 
 royal chapter ; endow each of them with an income 
 of six thousand francs ; place a superior at their 
 head, with an income of twenty thousand francs ; 
 and you will not forget,' she added with a prim, 
 affected, manner, ' the eternal old woman.' She 
 then continued, assuming with the aid of her fan a 
 decayed gracefulness, ' On your nominating for the 
 first time this superior who has inspired you with 
 the happy idea of the foundation. Such an act of 
 munificence will delight the clergy, enchant the 
 Duchess of Angouleme, her august husband, our 
 charming Monsieur ; the first families in the king- 
 dom will manifest their gratitude to you ; and I 
 think I may affirm that, this matter once settled, 
 you will be invited to the morning receptions 
 at the Chateau, and to the Sunday receptions after 
 mass.' 
 
 ' ' I could not feel angry at the extravagant sug- 
 gestion. How thankful I am to you, I replied, 
 for having so correctly penetrated my sentiments ! 
 I have thought of something of the kind. ..." 
 
 " * Oh ! you are a most amiable man, ever intent 
 upon doing good.'
 
 ANNOYING APPLICANTS. 383 
 
 ** The only difference is, that I design to be of 
 service to decayed magistrates. 
 
 " The disappointed lady rose from her seat 
 like a fury, called me every bad name, and de- 
 parted. I knew her to have said, at the evening par- 
 ties of bouillotte, that my intention was to establish 
 and richly endow a house of refuge for the con- 
 querors of the Bastile, the murderers of September 
 and the Jacobins ruined by the Restoration, who 
 would, by my assistance, have the means of club- 
 bing together to assail it." 
 
 Does such folly cause Monseigneur any un- 
 easiness ? 
 
 " It rather annoys me ; lam the butt of every 
 attack. To-day, comes an old priest, a martyr 
 to his faith ; he is succeeded by a constitutional 
 priest, whose supplies are cut off by the new 
 bishops. To-morrow, I shall receive the petition of 
 an emigrant forgotten by his king ; the next day 
 will appear a general on half pay, and dying with 
 hunger. A colonel marries his daughter without a 
 portion ; this will not do ; he wishes me to present 
 her with costly bride's clothes. The dauber who 
 has made a wretched painting of Napoleon insists 
 that I ought to purchase his work which is not 
 admitted to the public exhibition. His colleague 
 will give me a certificate of royalist opinions if I 
 will disgrace my saloon by hanging there, (after 
 paying a heavy price for the purchase,) his portrait 
 of Louis XVI welcomed by Henry IV to the 
 Elysian fields. I can affirm having heard an
 
 384 ANNOYING APPLICANTS. 
 
 author, who, after dedicating to me the first edition 
 of his works, proposed that I should subscribe to 
 the second edition dedicated to M. de Fontanes, 
 in the preface of which he adverts to the homage 
 which bashful merit had been formerly compelled 
 to pay to the usurping powers. All such taxes 
 upon my purse are insupportable to me. I give, and 
 assuredly not with a sparing hand ; but I desire to 
 do so as I best think proper, with judgment, to 
 those who are actually in want, to persons who are 
 really in indigent circumstances," 
 
 I thought his complaints were well founded ; 
 what bounds are there to the grasping dispositions 
 of those perfect pickpockets who clip your purse 
 by means of fine phrases and of impudent false- 
 hoods ? 
 
 I can instance two cases of the kind which are 
 wholly unparalleled. 
 
 I was writing in my study, when a lady was 
 announced to me. I rise; the lady walks in. My 
 first glance at her reveals to me that she is a 
 a female of loose character or an actress. I should 
 rather have said she was both. She has some 
 remains of beauty, but she smells of vice at an 
 immeasurable distance, notwithstanding her per- 
 fume of amber. She has had misfortunes, as if 
 misfortunes were ever wanting to strolling ac- 
 tresses, and she applied to me to repair them. 
 Thanks, alas ! to the last revolution, I was no 
 richer than she was ; I frankly told her so, when 
 she replied :
 
 A BOLD BEGGAR. 385 
 
 "' I am not come here to give you alms, but 
 to receive alms from you ; I am in want of five 
 francs ; if you refuse them, I open the window, 
 and throw myself out into the street.' 
 
 " And the violent creature seemed about to suit 
 the action to the threat. I was seized with friirht ; 
 1 never could have forgiven myself her death ; 
 what a sight, moreover, for the neighbours was this 
 contest with a woman at an open window ! I 
 handed her the five francs thus extorted from me 
 by violence, when she departed, saying : — 
 
 " ' You have done well: for, had you refused 
 me, I should, one way or another, have been the 
 ruin of you.' 
 
 " I was afterwards blamed for not having placed 
 her in the hands of the police ; but I am of M. de 
 Puymaurin's opinion, (see a previous note of this 
 chapter). An uproar of this kind always proves 
 injurious, the more so, I repeat it, as the woman 
 had yet some remains of beauty. 
 
 " On another occasion, I was visited by a tall, 
 thin, pale gentleman, with his hand across his 
 breast ; he wore a fine hat and white linen ; he 
 came to beg for two families, and called my atten- 
 tion to the contrast between them. The members 
 of No. 1 are ruined royahsts of the old nobihty 
 those of No. 2 are a father, a motlier, and ten 
 children, all workmen and republicans ; but 
 christian charity is inexhaustible ; he is him- 
 
 VOL. I. 2 V
 
 386 AN AMUSING MISTAKE. 
 
 self, besides, an ex-clerk in the finance depart- 
 ment. 
 
 " In that case, you had better go to my neigh- 
 bour." 
 
 " ' I have just come from there, Sir; what a 
 heart of iron !' 
 
 " He ! why he is a most serviceable man." 
 
 " ' Sir, he is a man of letters, an impious man, 
 a democrat ; his abominable work. History of the 
 Inquisition of France, conceals a venom which you 
 would have noticed as I have done.' 
 
 " By these words, I perceived that the petitioner, 
 who had drawn his information from the Almanack 
 of the twenty-five thousand addresses, had mis- 
 taken one story of the house for another ; he 
 fancied himself in presence of a superior officer 
 of the finance department, whereas he was in my 
 own apartment. I enjoyed the mistake, and did not 
 undeceive him. 
 
 " You are, then, acquainted withM.de Langon?" 
 
 " ' I am so, to my sorrow; he caused me to 
 be removed in 1830 from the place which I 
 held, and which he had turned over to himself. 
 Oh ! Sir, you are thought very differently of in 
 this place.' 
 
 " But have you seen him ?" 
 
 " ' Upwards of fifty times ; I have even told 
 him . . . ' 
 
 " Assuredly not what he is going himself to 
 tell you ; which is, that you are a miserable wretch,
 
 THE ROGUE ENTRAPPED. 387 
 
 an imposter, a cheat ; for I am the man of letters 
 whose misfortune it is to be exposed to the ra- 
 pacity of a scoundrel such as you, because my 
 name happens to be inserted in almanacks ; you 
 
 are not with M. M. but with M. de Langon 
 
 whom you are so well acquainted with, who is an 
 impious man, a democrat, and in high favor with 
 the party of 1830. 
 
 " I might have preached for an hour ; the 
 scoundrel, caught in his own snare, knew not 
 what countenance to assume ; at last, he took 
 up his hat : I followed, apprehensive of some theft, 
 until he reached the staircase door ; when he got 
 outside, he cried out : 
 
 " ' I will be revenged.' 
 
 *' He did take his revenge, accordingly." 
 
 Nothing can exceed the audacity of this sort 
 of beggars ; they are among the plagues of Paris 
 which the police do not pursue with all the means 
 at their command. This signal abuse is kept up, 
 as well as the shameful traffic of goods deposited at 
 houses, and giving rise to quarrels and even law- 
 suits, by the aid of those almanacks in whicli 
 are presented, to all who wish to turn them to 
 profitable account, the names and residences of 
 a multitude of citizens who arc, in a manner, the 
 property of the pubhc. Thieves, tradesmen in em- 
 barrassed circumstances, agents of the political 
 police, abandoned females, all vicious characters 
 or imposters take advantage of them, make these 
 
 2 c 2
 
 388 NAPOLEON AND 
 
 almanacks their daily study, and, assisted by such 
 slender information, enter your house, the retire- 
 ment of which cannot elude their search. I in- 
 variably inquire of all those who come to me under 
 some vague pretence, by whom they are sent ; 
 and they are forced to acknowledge that such 
 indiscreet dictionaries are their patrons and my 
 intimate friends. 
 
 But I have dwelt long enough upon these 
 sharpers of both sexes. Napoleon who, as a pri- 
 vate individual, had suffered much from their false 
 stories, held them in abhorrence ; and they kept 
 aloof during the whole course of his reign. Em- 
 boldened by the Restoration, they have become 
 an intolerable nuisance. Napoleon delighted in 
 treating his soldiers with kindness, in conversing 
 with, and even in gently provoking them ; they 
 knew and took advantage of it with remarkable 
 reserve and moderation. The French nation are 
 distinguished by an exquisite sense of delicacy, and 
 unparalleled judgment. No other nation, not ex- 
 cepting the Italians, is gifted with such superior 
 tact. 
 
 I recollect, amongst other instances, that at 
 a review at which I was present, an old grognard, 
 as he called them, who strictly conformed, for the 
 rest, to the species of ceremony observed amongst 
 military men, and which was part of the camp 
 etiquette, — an old grognard stepped out of the 
 ranks, presented arms, held up his hand to his
 
 THE GROGNARD. 389 
 
 shako, and stood as still and motionless as the 
 statue of one of the guards of Pharoah. The 
 Emperor, whose eye was glancing at this ma- 
 noeuvre, walked two or three steps forward, as it 
 were at random ; then, suddenly wheeling round, 
 and finding himself face to face with the grognard, 
 thus opened the colloquy with his hollow voice : 
 
 " What is it you want?" 
 
 " Tell me. Sire : how much longer shall I have 
 to run after the cross of honour?" 
 
 " Oh ! you desire to have it ?" 
 
 " I deserve it." 
 
 " You say so?" 
 
 " My services prove it ; my comrades will 
 attest so by ....!" 
 
 " Don't swear." 
 
 " Zounds ! Is it not mortifying to think that I 
 should have followed you to Italy where we thrashed 
 Wurmser at Mantua, and Melas at Marengo, after- 
 wards when we beat the Austrians at Austerlitz, 
 where the other Emperors, the pair of whom were 
 no match for you, were so courteously treated ; 
 — at Jena, where we gave it to the Prussians to 
 their heart's content; and yet, after all, to be 
 no further advanced than a novice who still sobs 
 after his mother's pap ?" 
 
 " I have, in fact, seen you every where." 
 
 " Well then, Sire, contrive so that I may see a 
 piece of red ribbon at my button hole."
 
 390 LETTER FROM 
 
 " Have you been wounded ?" inquired Napo- 
 leon. 
 
 " Nine times." 
 
 " This is worth a pension and a cross. You 
 shall have both." 
 
 The Emperor walked on ; the veteran followed 
 him. 
 
 " Sire, one word more. They have been so 
 often promised me that I fear you will forget me 
 like those wheedlers have done." 
 
 " Oh ! you mistrust me ? this shows no great 
 respect for me ; but, since you will not rely on my 
 word, here are pledges." 
 
 " The Emperor unfastened his cross, for he 
 always wore a silver one, like a mere knight of 
 the order, gave it to the soldier, and with it a 
 handful of gold. 
 
 It was during that campaign of Austerlitz, which 
 the soldier was recalling to mind, that Napoleon 
 wrote with his own hand, to Josephine, two days 
 after the famous battle, the following letter ; its 
 insertion here will no doubt gratify the reader. 
 
 " My dear Josephine, 
 
 ' ' My star still guides me on my way ; the 
 battle I have just won, and which the soldiers 
 insist upon calhng the battle of the three Em- 
 perors, will perhaps shine, in aftertimes, with
 
 NAPOLEON TO JOSEPHINE. 391 
 
 greater brilliancy than that of Marengo, its eldest 
 sister. I am all happiness ! Heaven grant that it 
 may continue. Wonder how great is my good 
 fortune ; I conquered, the day before yesterday, the 
 anniversary of our coronation. All my officers have 
 performed prodigies of valour in this campaign ; 
 my soldiers are heroes. With them, one might 
 proceed to the extremity of the world, and I 
 have a great mind to undertake the journey. The 
 Austrians have behaved like children ; there is, 
 amongst their military men, no such honour as 
 we in France understand by the word ; they feel no 
 shame in their defeat. They are surrounded, 
 yield up their swords and go to dine with a good 
 appetite. The ignorance of those officers quite 
 sickens one. With twenty grenadiers of my guard, 
 1 would undertake to beat, with the fiat of our 
 swords, four hundred officers of that nation, ranged 
 in order of battle. 
 
 " These people, so full of boasting on the very 
 eve of the battle, are now perfectly abject before 
 me ; how can so much pride and servility be 
 found combined ! My brother, the Emperor Francis, 
 came to visit me in my bivouac ; I was, and am 
 still, in a wood and straw hut, which my aides-de- 
 camp had ornamented with the standards taken 
 from the enemy. When 1 learnt that His Majesty 
 was approaching, 1 ordered those hangings to be 
 removed, which I shall send off to the Invalides. 
 
 " The Emperor Francis came in a carriage
 
 392 LETTER FROM 
 
 drawn by six horses, with no other suite than 
 the two Princes of Lichtenstein and General Prince 
 Schwartzemberg. He appeared Hke a perplexed 
 old dotard ; this was in rule. I received him as well 
 as I could, did him the honors of my hut, and 
 said to him : I receive you in the only palace 
 I have inhabited for upwards of two months. He 
 lisped out, with a smile, the following reply : ' You 
 turn this habitation to such good account, that 
 you must feel a liking for it.' We spoke of 
 business in a summary manner. Our plenipo- 
 tentiaries will supply the rest ; he shall learn 
 the cost of a short war against me. He has 
 had the generosity to intercede with me in behalf 
 of the King of Naples. That King, I answered, 
 has ceased to reign. He is my brother-in-law. He 
 is the slave of his wife. I then added with a 
 graver tone : He came to treat with, and forthwith 
 betrays me ; he welcomes the English and the 
 Russians ; he shall disappear from the kingdom 
 of Naples. My brother changed the conversation, 
 and presented to me the three Princes who came in 
 the Emperor's suite. I received them well. They 
 are men of distinguished merit. I have avoided 
 paying a visit, to the Empress, in order to spare 
 her the pain of an embarrassing position with 
 respect to lier family. 
 
 " Count Haugwitz arrived on the eve of the 
 battle ; was very mysterious, spoke little, and 
 almost in threatening language. I suspected that
 
 NAPOLEON TO JOSEPHINE. 393 
 
 English gold had worked in that quarter. I said 
 to Caulaincourt, whom I commissioned to treat 
 with him : Induce Haugwitz to start for Vienna - 
 he will await the results. In virtue of those results, 
 my dear Josephine, Prussia remains my faithful ally. 
 The Count returned, for the express purpose of con- 
 gratulating me. His Sovereign is delighted at my 
 success ; he was so lavish in my praise, that 
 I could not help saying to Murat : This is a com- 
 pliment, of which fortune has altered the address. 
 
 " This letter is of immoderate length, such 
 as I have not written for a long time. I renew 
 to you the assurances of my unbounded love. 
 Your son performs wonders ; embrace your daugh- 
 ter, the children, my brothers, my mother whom 
 I should have named first, all my friends, in short. 
 There will soon be another crown in the family. 
 Adieu. 
 
 *' Napoleon." 
 
 This man was colossal in every thing ! 
 
 The above letter recalls others to my mind, 
 one in particular, which is not without its merit. 
 Savary wrote it to a lady with whom he lived upon 
 terms of close intimacy. He very correctly de- 
 scribed in it the confusion of Alexander after the 
 battle of Austerlitz, which was so much at va- 
 riance with his boasting previously to that cele- 
 brated action. Nevertheless, I prefer making my 
 readers acquainted with another which was written
 
 394 A GOSSIPIRG LETTER. 
 
 to me by a friend who was in the service of 
 Josephine ; it will afford a pause to the reader's 
 imagination. 
 
 " Are you fond of gossip, my dear friend? 
 Say you are, for what else can I send you from 
 Malmaison? It is an absolute bear-garden, such 
 idle talk, such prattle, such petty quarrels and 
 nocturnal adventures. The latter may be reckoned 
 by dozens. I select one, which will enable you 
 to fill up the remainder. 
 
 " Josephine is, as you know, the very best 
 amongst the best of women ; she never was back- 
 ward in promoting the happiness of any one who 
 asked a service at her hands ; she has solicited so 
 much, and so unreservedly from our ministers, that 
 her credit with them has altogether ceased. The 
 fact is so notorious that petitioners, a peculiar 
 race whom Providence has created to annoy the 
 remainder of the children of Adam, have insen- 
 sibly withdrawn themselves from her ; they are 
 a keen scented race, and have found out her 
 disfavour. None but stupid, daring provincialists 
 now apply to the Empress, just as they would 
 to any of her footmen ; they at least come to us 
 petition in hand, and speak of veneration, love and 
 gratitude ; their grievances are scarcely listened 
 to. 
 
 " But what her Majesty the Empress is un- 
 able to effect in public affairs, she does in her
 
 SCANDAL AT MALMAISON. 395 
 
 own audience-; and, though she has often had 
 reason to complain of ingratitude, we nevertheless 
 occasionally see a young and pretty creature, very 
 foolish or very witty, which is the same thing, 
 admitted as an inmate of her apartments, be- 
 come the butt of mischief-loving ladies, and an 
 object of attraction for a swarm of pages, equer- 
 ries, young chamberlains, and of others of still 
 lower degree. This lasts until the damsel dis- 
 appears. She is lost in a cloud, or she runs 
 away with some giddy fellow ; or, which is of 
 more frequent occurrence, owing to well merited 
 disgrace, she is sent back by the diligence to her 
 own family or to her convent. 
 
 " A perfect wonder made her appearance 
 amongst us some months ago; a nymph-like shape, 
 a Venus in figure, the presence of a Diana, Absa- 
 lom's hair, (this letter was dated in the days of the 
 Empire), gentleness, simplicity, innocence, no wit, 
 little common sense, but a fascinating countenance, 
 and beauty enough to spare to any one else who 
 might stand in need of it ; add to this, a brilhant 
 complexion, eyes that would drive one to despair 
 by their provoking expression ; in short, a very 
 apple of discord amongst us. 
 
 " A week had not elapsed when the verses of 
 La Fontaine 
 
 Deux coqs vivaient en paix ; une poulc eurvient, 
 Et voila la cruerre allumce.
 
 396 THE BLACK LEG. 
 
 might with propriety have been applied to Mal- 
 maison. The first whisper was : Peter is the 
 
 favorite of Mademoiselle de No, Paul is 
 
 the man — 'perhaps both at once ? These rumours 
 fly about ; conjectures follow. We were under 
 the sway of angry and tyrannical feelings. This 
 state of things would have long continued, had not 
 the Empress calling to me one evening, said : — 
 
 " * M. de I request you will tell me 
 
 what is this black-leg of which so many stories are 
 related.' 
 
 " A black-leg?" 1 unconsciously repeated, as it 
 happens when any thing is mentioned which we 
 are unprepared to hear. 
 
 ** ' Yes, Sir, that unlucky spectre which un- 
 der the guise of a colossal leg, covered over with 
 black crape, wanders about in the garden when 
 all discreet persons at least have retired to 
 rest.' 
 
 " I respectfully answered that such as these had 
 not been confided to me, for it was well known I 
 would instantly put a stop to them. 
 
 " ' Well, Sir, I request you w^ill take measures, 
 accordingly. I am fond of the days of chivalry as 
 represented in romance, or at the theatre Feydeau ; 
 but, after sun-set, and in this place, such scenes 
 are highly blameable.' 
 
 " It was now my turn to be angry ; I knew and 
 was assured, that the apparitions of the enormous 
 black-leg were no invention. This hideous spectre
 
 THE BLACK LEG. 397 
 
 had shewn himself, for the last fifteen days, or 
 rather nights, to speak more correctly. The ser- 
 vants of the household, the very companies of 
 the guard, were already a prey to the terrors of 
 superstition. Husbands returned to the company 
 of their wives at an earlier hour ; female friends 
 slept together ; and, with the exception perhaps 
 of Her Majesty, the ladies no longer disguised 
 their fears. 
 
 *' I had for a servant a phlegmatic German, as 
 strong as a Turk, as brave as Caesar ; he attends 
 me at my summons. I give him my instructions : 
 a bottle of wine, a pie, some bread, and ten francs, 
 promising him double the sum if he consents to 
 explore the park in the night time. He engages to do 
 so. My mind being now^ at ease, I retire to rest. 
 On awaking the next morning, I behold Momer be- 
 fore me ; he was a perfect phantom ; he is no longer 
 the same lively, quiet man I had hitherto found him; 
 he is harrassed, taciturn, and half intoxicated." 
 
 " What have you ascertained ?" 
 
 '' ' I beseech you, Sir, give me my discharge.' 
 
 " Your discharge ? v/hat for ? you are dream- 
 ing!" 
 
 " ' I beg. Sir, you will pardon my ingratitude : 
 but I have no longer the courage to expose 
 myself willingly to a certain and sudden dcatli. 
 I wish to quit France and return to Germany.' 
 
 " I am amazed ; what has occurred, what have 
 you seen ? answer me." 
 
 " * If you desire it, I will tell you the truth.'
 
 398 THE BLACK LEG. 
 
 " What a simpleton you are ! was it to conceal 
 from me what you might discover that I sent you 
 last night to run about the fields and keep watch 
 in the park?" 
 
 " 'In that case, 1 will tell you that I have seen 
 the black-leg ; it spoke to me, and I must instantly 
 quit your service under pain of an early death and 
 eternal punishment.' 
 
 " I was waxing angry, but checked myself, rose 
 up, and, unable to get from this silly fellow any 
 thing more than incoherent words, I granted him 
 his request ; he was to remain eight days 
 longer in my service, and then take his de- 
 parture. 
 
 " In the course of the morning, two soldiers of 
 the battalion of the old guard, which was stationed 
 on duty at the Chateau, came up to speak with 
 me. My German servant had told them of his 
 mishap ; they turned him into ridicule, and proposed 
 to replace him, provided I could obtain their officer's 
 permission to sleep out. I applauded their zeal, gave 
 them some drink, settled the question of discipline 
 with the commander, who consented to part for 
 twenty-four hours with his two men, both excel- 
 lent troopers, with huge mustachios, who with 
 pointed bayonets have already caused so much 
 terror to the living that I assuredly calculated on 
 their giving some alarm to the dead. Now, 
 we cannot fail to have accounts of this black- 
 leg. 
 
 " I watched the dawn of day with almost super-
 
 THE BLACK LEG. 399 
 
 stitious impatience ; I am informed, at the hour of 
 seven, that one of the grognards desires to speak 
 with me : he enters my room. 
 
 " Where is your comrade ?" 
 
 " ' In the hospital, Sir.' 
 
 " Has he been wounded ?" 
 
 " * May Heaven forgive you, Sir; it is unfair 
 thus to bring christians into the presence of 
 Satan.' 
 
 " What ! have you seen it?" 
 
 ** ' No doubt, I have ; if I am on my legs, I am 
 hardly the better for it. Nichole is nearly dead 
 with fright : the poor fellow never can recover from 
 it.' 
 
 " But what is it, after all?" 
 
 *' ' The black-leg ; you know all about it. 
 I need not say more. Oh ! the wretch, how 
 hideous !' 
 
 " Has it appeared to you?' 
 
 " ' Indeed, it has, soul and body, head, feet and 
 hands.' 
 
 " A leg ! you talk nonsense." 
 
 " ' One might do so with far less cause for 
 it. I am going in quest of Monsieur le Cur^, to 
 confess my sins to him. .. .Joking apart, it is a 
 grand sight.' 
 
 " I gave him his fee, and bit my lips. The 
 alarm increases. On the approacli of night, no 
 one dares to stir a single step ; we only hear of 
 marvellous stories. The phantom has been every
 
 400 PLAN FOR DISCOVERING 
 
 where ; he has been seen in the gallery leading 
 
 to the apartment of Mademoiselle M : the 
 
 poor girl is beside herself with fright. 
 
 •' The lapse of a few days only added to the 
 general terror. I was advised to apply to the 
 police ; but was reluctant to adopt this course, 
 knowing how much the Empress was averse to any 
 intercourse with them. Nevertheless, Her Majesty 
 still complained, and the mischievous imp persisted 
 in his pranks. Stung to the quick, I wrote to the 
 prefect and explained the matter to him. The 
 magistrate replied that he would cause a more active 
 watch to be kept round the Chateau, and sent me, 
 at the same time, a young fellow not more than 
 twenty years old, whom he extolled as an idle 
 vagabond, a cunning lad, a shrewd prowling gipsy, 
 fit for any thing, caring for nothing in the world, 
 but capable of laying hold of Satan himself, though 
 belonging to his gang, provided any one should 
 be disposed to pay him handsomely for his 
 trouble. 
 
 " In consequence of M. Dubois' letter, I sent 
 for and questioned this sagacious agent. He related 
 to me numberless aiFairs from which he had cleverly 
 extricated himself. The present must be the case 
 of a robber, he fears none : or of a lover, well then, 
 he will lay hands on him. I advise him to walk 
 along the galleries, and I gave orders accordingly. 
 It was agreed that, if the phantom inhabited the 
 Chateau, he would follow him to his den, and whistle
 
 THE PHANTOM. 401 
 
 by way of signal ; if, on the contrary, the leg 
 effected its retreat through the park, he would, on 
 quitting the house, hasten to the garden, when in 
 order to give warning to the several sentries, he 
 would fire a pistol. On hearing the report, the sen- 
 tries thus put upon their guard, wereto set them- 
 selves in motion, in order to cut off the retreat of 
 the intruding visitor. 
 
 " This plan being arranged, I went to inform 
 Her Majesty of it ; she gave her approbation, was 
 prepared for an alarm, and, thus admonished 
 beforehand, would not be disturbed by it. She 
 promised, besides, the strictest secrecy ; for the 
 more I investigated the matter, the more was I 
 led to think that the hollow leg might possibly 
 
 ■|r,g * # * * * 
 
 " I was now satisfied that the mystery would 
 be cleared up ; I evinced on the evening in ques- 
 tion more cheerfulness than usual. I saw ray 
 cunning agent for the last time at eleven o'clock, 
 and promised him a five hundred franc note if he 
 succeeded in taking the delinquent. All retired to 
 rest at midnight. I refrained from going to bed. 
 I read, I wrote, but with distracted thoughts. A 
 single idea predominated in my mind. I heard 
 the report of a pistol in the garden, not far from 
 
 the window of my apartment I started, a 
 
 second report was soon afterwards licard, then a 
 third, and eleven in succession ; it was a perfect 
 
 VOL. 1. '^ ^
 
 402 MYSTERIOUS PISTOL SHOTS. 
 
 skirmish. Lost in conjectures, I descend the stair- 
 case, and hasten to the garden ; all the inhabitants 
 of the chateau, suddenly awake from their slum- 
 bers; the sentries, the officers, all clear their 
 way. I proceed to the spot where I expect to find 
 my valet, .no trace whatever of Ernest; but, at 
 the appointed spot, a large pool of blood recently 
 spilt, and no human trace, nothing to complete the 
 proof that a murder had been committed. I em- 
 ployed the remainder of the night in inspecting 
 the park and the chateau, and making a minute 
 search in every corner. I order the unfortunate 
 young man to be hailed ; I hail him niyself : he has 
 disappeared. From that moment, every trace of 
 him was completely lost. The prefect of police 
 himself could procure no account of him ; this is 
 what he apprized me of ; but those eleven reports 
 of pistol shots which the whole of Malmaison had 
 heard as well as myself ; who could have fired them? 
 
 " Nothing could exceed my confusion. I acknow- 
 ledged my defeat to Her Majesty, who said to 
 me : — 
 
 " All that is left for us to do is to give way to 
 the phantom, and go to Paris ; it will not follow 
 us thither. 1 doubt of its returning here, when 
 Napoleon comes back. 
 
 " Her Majesty, accordingly, took her departure 
 with all the ladies. I remained, but from that 
 moment I no longer had a crow to pluck with the 
 black-leg, which discontinued its pranks. Three
 
 A SINGULAR PRESENT. 403 
 
 months afterwards, Mademoiselle M. . . . married a 
 general officer who made her a Countess ; at the 
 same time, a carrier left on his way with the porter 
 of Malmaison, a huge case, directed to me, carriage 
 free. I w^as ahsent on business connected with my 
 duty, but I returned three days afterwards. I ima- 
 gined that some contractors of Paris had sent me 
 various articles I had applied for ; I had the case 
 opened in my presence. There was removed from 
 beneath a quantity of linen and hay an immense 
 pasteboard leg, covered over with black crape 
 and a false nose twelves inches long, hanging to it. 
 
 END OF VOL. 1. 
 
 London: 
 
 SCHULZE AND CO. Li, I'OI.ANO STREET.
 
 # 
 
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