Makers of History

 Hortense

 BY JOHN S. C. ABBOTT

 WITH ENGRAVINGS

 NEW YORK AND LONDON HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS 1902

 Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1870, by

 HARPER & BROTHERS, In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the Southern District of New York. 

 Copyright, 1898, by LAURA A. BUCK. 

[Illustration: HORTENSE. ]

PREFACE. 

The French Revolution was perhaps as important an event as has occurredin the history of nations. It was a drama in three acts. The first wasthe Revolution itself, properly so called, with its awful scenes ofterror and of blood--the exasperated millions struggling against theaccumulated oppression of ages. 

The second act in the drama was the overthrow of the Directory byNapoleon, and the introduction of the Consulate and the Empire; thetremendous struggle against the combined dynasties of Europe; thedemolition of the Empire, and the renewed crushing of the people by thetriumph of the nobles and the kings. 

Then came the third act in the drama--perhaps the last, perhaps not--inwhich the French people again drove out the Bourbons, re-established theRepublican Empire, with its principle of equal rights for all, andplaced upon the throne the heir of the great Emperor. 

No man can understand the career of Napoleon I. Without being acquaintedwith those scenes of anarchy and terror which preceded his reign. No mancan understand the career of Napoleon III. Unless familiar with thestruggle of the people against the despots in the Revolution, theirtriumph in the Empire, their defeat in its overthrow, and their renewedtriumph in its restoration. 

Hortense was intimately associated with all these scenes. Her fatherfell beneath the slide of the guillotine; her mother was imprisoned anddoomed to die; and she and her brother were turned penniless into thestreets. By the marriage of her mother with Napoleon, she became thedaughter of the Emperor, and one of the most brilliant and illustriousladies of the imperial court. The triumph of the Allies sent her intoexile, where her influence and her instruction prepared her son tocontribute powerfully to the restoration of the Empire, and to reignwith ability which is admired by his friends and acknowledged by hisfoes. The mother of Napoleon III. Never allowed her royally-endowed sonto forget, even in the gloomiest days of exile and of sorrow, that itmight yet be his privilege to re-establish the Republican Empire, and torestore the dynasty of the people from its overthrow by the despoticAllies. 

In this brief record of the life of one who experienced far more thanthe usual vicissitudes of humanity, whose career was one of the saddestupon record, and who ever exhibited virtues which won the enthusiasticlove of all who knew her, the writer has admitted nothing which can notbe sustained by incontrovertible evidence, and has suppressed nothingsustained by any testimony worthy of a moment's respect. This historywill show that Hortense had her faults. Who is without them? There arenot many, however, who will read these pages without profound admirationfor the character of one of the noblest of women, and without findingthe eye often dimmed, in view of her heart-rending griefs. 

This volume will soon be followed by the History of Louis Philippe. 

 CONTENTS. 

 CHAPTER PAGE

 I. PARENTAGE AND BIRTH 15

 II. MARRIAGE OF JOSEPHINE AND GENERAL BONAPARTE 49

 III. HORTENSE AND DUROC 80

 IV. THE MARRIAGE OF HORTENSE 110

 V. THE BIRTH OF LOUIS NAPOLEON AND THE DIVORCE OF JOSEPHINE 148

 VI. THE DEATH OF JOSEPHINE 179

 VII. THE SORROWS OF EXILE 211

 VIII. PEACEFUL DAYS, YET SAD 239

 IX. LIFE AT ARENEMBERG 293

 X. LETTER FROM LOUIS NAPOLEON TO HIS MOTHER 322

 XI. DEATH OF HORTENSE, AND THE ENTHRONEMENT OF HER SON 358

ENGRAVINGS. 

 PAGE

 HORTENSE _Frontispiece. _

 JOSEPHINE TAKING LEAVE OF HER CHILDREN 38

 THE RECONCILIATION 76

 THE LOVE-LETTER 104

 THE LITTLE PRINCE NAPOLEON 129

 THE DIVORCE ANNOUNCED 165

 THE DEATH OF MADAME BROC 194

 HORTENSE AND HER CHILDREN 218

 HORTENSE AT ARENEMBERG 248

 INTERVIEW IN THE COLISEUM 271

 THE STUDY OF LOUIS NAPOLEON 307

 THE ARREST 336

HORTENSE. 

CHAPTER I. 

PARENTAGE AND BIRTH. 

1776-1794

Josephine's voyage to France. --Viscount de Beauharnais. --Josephine'sreluctance. --Marriage. --Birth of Eugene. --Birth of Hortense. --Separationfrom Beauharnais. --Return to Martinique. --Revisits France. --The jewelcaskets. --The old pair of shoes. --Commencement of the Reign ofTerror. --Arrest of Beauharnais. --Domiciliary visit. --Beauharnais inprison. --Affecting interview. --Scene in prison. --Trial ofBeauharnais. --Anguish of Josephine. --Arrest of Josephine. --Impulsivenessof Hortense. --Letter from Josephine. --Letter from Beauharnais. --Executionof Beauharnais. --Josephine to her children. 

In the year 1776 a very beautiful young lady, by the name of JosephineRose Tascher, was crossing the Atlantic Ocean from the island ofMartinique to France. She was but fifteen years of age; and, having beenleft an orphan in infancy, had been tenderly reared by an uncle andaunt, who were wealthy, being proprietors of one of the finestplantations upon the island. Josephine was accompanied upon the voyageby her uncle. She was the betrothed of a young French nobleman by thename of Viscount Alexander de Beauharnais, who had recently visitedMartinique, and who owned several large estates adjoining the propertywhich Josephine would probably inherit. 

It was with great reluctance that Josephine yielded to the importunitiesof her friends and accepted the proffered hand of the viscount. Heraffections had long been fixed upon a play-mate of her childhood by thename of William, and her love was passionately returned. William wasthen absent in France, pursuing his education. De Beauharnais was whatwould usually be called a very splendid man. He was of high rank, young, rich, intelligent, and fascinating in his manners. The marriage ofJosephine with the viscount would unite the properties. Her friends, intheir desire to accomplish the union, cruelly deceived Josephine. Theyintercepted the letters of William, and withheld her letters to him, andrepresented to her that William, amidst the gayeties of Paris, hadproved a false lover, and had entirely forgotten her. De Beauharnais, attracted by the grace and beauty of Josephine, had ardently offered herhis hand. Under these circumstances the inexperienced maiden hadconsented to the union, and was now crossing the Atlantic with her unclefor the consummation of the nuptials in France. 

Upon her arrival she was conducted to Fontainebleau, where DeBeauharnais hastened to meet her. Proud of her attractions, he tookgreat pleasure in introducing her to his high-born friends, andlavished upon her every attention. Josephine was grateful, but sad, forher heart still yearned for William. Soon William, hearing of herarrival, and not knowing of her engagement, anxiously repaired toFontainebleau. The interview was agonizing. William still loved her withthe utmost devotion. They both found that they had been the victims of aconspiracy, though one of which De Beauharnais had no knowledge. 

Josephine, young, inexperienced, far from home, and surrounded by thewealthy and powerful friends of her betrothed, had gone too far in thearrangements for the marriage to recede. Her anguish, however, was sogreat that she was thrown into a violent fever. She had no friend towhom she could confide her emotions. But in most affecting tones sheentreated that her marriage might be delayed for a few months until sheshould regain her health. Her friends consented, and she took refuge fora time in the Convent of Panthemont, under the tender care of thesisters. 

It is not probable that De Beauharnais was at all aware of the realstate of Josephine's feelings. He was proud of her, and loved her astruly as a fashionable man of the world could love. It is also to beremembered that at that time in France it was not customary for youngladies to have much influence in the choice of their husbands. It wassupposed that their parents could much more judiciously arrange thesematters than the young ladies themselves. 

Josephine was sixteen years of age at the time of her marriage. Herattractions were so remarkable that she immediately became a greatfavorite at the French court, to which the rank of her husbandintroduced her. Marie Antoinette was then the youthful bride of LouisXVI. She was charmed with Josephine, and lavished upon her the mostflattering attentions. Two children were born of this marriage, both ofwhom attained world-wide renown. The first was a son, Eugene. He wasborn in September, 1781. His career was very elevated, and he occupiedwith distinguished honor all the lofty positions to which he was raised. He became duke of Leuchtenberg, prince of Eichstedt, viceroy of Italy. He married the Princess Augusta, daughter of the King of Bavaria. 

"Prince Eugene, under a simple exterior, concealed a noble character andgreat talents. Honor, integrity, humanity, and love of order andjustice were the principal traits of his character. Wise in the council, undaunted in the field, and moderate in the exercise of power, he neverappeared greater than in the midst of reverses, as the events of 1813and 1814 prove. He was inaccessible to the spirit of party, benevolentand beneficent, and more devoted to the good of others than his own. "[A]

[Footnote A: Encyclopædia Americana. ]

The second child was a daughter, Hortense, the subject of this briefmemoir. She was born on the 10th of January, 1783. In the opening scenesof that most sublime of earthly tragedies, the French Revolution, M. DeBeauharnais espoused the popular cause, though of noble blood, andthough his elder brother, the Marquis de Beauharnais, earnestlyadvocated the cause of the king and the court. 

The entire renunciation of the Christian religion was then popular inFrance. Alexander de Beauharnais, like most of his young pleasure-lovingcompanions, was an infidel. His conduct soon became such that the heartof poor Josephine was quite broken. Her two children, Eugene andHortense, both inherited the affectionate and gentle traits of theirmother, and were her only solace. In her anguish she unguardedly wroteto her friends in Martinique, who had almost forced her into herconnection with Beauharnais:

"Were it not for my children, I should, without a pang, renounce Franceforever. My duty requires me to forget William. And yet, if _we_ hadbeen united together, I should not to-day have been troubling you withmy griefs. "

Viscount Beauharnais chanced to see this letter. It roused his jealousyfearfully. A sense of "honor" would allow him to lavish his attentionsupon guilty favorites, while that same sense of "honor" would urge himto wreak vengeance upon his unhappy, injured wife, because, in herneglect and anguish, with no false, but only a true affection, hermemory turned to the loved companion of her childhood. According to thestandard of the fashionable world, Beauharnais was a very honorable man. According to the standard of Christianity, he was a sinner in the sightof God, and was to answer for this conduct at the final judgment. 

He reproached his wife in the severest language of denunciation. He tookfrom her her son Eugene. He applied to the courts for a divorce, demanding his daughter Hortense also. Josephine pleaded with him invain, for the sake of their children, not to proclaim their disagreementto the world. Grief-stricken, poor Josephine retired to a convent toawait the trial. The verdict was triumphantly in her favor. But herheart was broken. She was separated from her husband, though the legaltie was not severed. 

Her friends in Martinique, informed of these events, wrote, urging herto return to them. She decided to accept the invitation. Hortense waswith her mother. M. De Beauharnais had sent Eugene, whom he had takenfrom her, to a boarding-school. Before sailing for Martinique sheobtained an interview with M. De Beauharnais, and with tears entreatedthat she might take Eugene with her also. He was unrelenting; Josephine, with a crushed and world-weary heart, folded Hortense to her bosom, thenan infant but three years of age, and returned to her tropical home, which she had sadly left but a few years before. Here, on the retiredplantation, soothed by the sympathy of her friends, she strove toconceal her anguish. 

There was never a more loving heart than that with which Josephine wasendowed. She clung to Hortense with tenderness which has rarely beenequalled. They were always together. During the day Hortense was ever byher side, and at night she nestled in her mother's bosom. Living amidstthe scenes of tropical luxuriance and beauty, endeared to her by thememories of childhood, Josephine could almost have been happy but forthe thoughts of her absent Eugene. Grief for her lost child preyed everupon her heart. 

Her alienated husband, relieved from all restraint, plunged anew intothose scenes of fashionable dissipation for which Paris was thenrenowned. But sickness, sorrows, and misfortunes came. In those darkhours he found that no earthly friend can supply the place of a virtuousand loving wife. He wrote to her, expressing bitter regret for hisconduct, and imploring her to return. The wounds which Josephine hadreceived were too deep to be easily healed. Forgiving as she was bynature, she said to her friends that the memory of the past was sopainful that, were it not for Eugene, she should very much prefer not toreturn to France again, but to spend the remainder of her days in theseclusion of her native island. Her friends did every thing in theirpower to dissuade her from returning. But a mother's love for her sontriumphed, and with Hortense she took ship for France. 

An event occurred upon this voyage which is as instructive as it isinteresting. Many years afterwards, when Josephine was Empress ofFrance, and the wealth of the world was almost literally at her feet, onone occasion some young ladies who were visiting the court requestedJosephine to show them her diamonds. These jewels were almost ofpriceless value, and were kept in a vault, the keys of which wereconfided to the most trusty persons. Josephine, who seldom wore jewels, very amiably complied with their request. A large table was brought intothe saloon. Her maids in waiting brought in a great number of caskets, of every size and form, containing the precious gems. 

As these caskets were opened, they were dazzled with the brilliancy, thesize, and the number of these ornaments. The different sets composedprobably by far the most brilliant collection in Europe. In Napoleon'sconquering career, the cities which he had entered lavished their giftsupon Josephine. The most remarkable of these jewels consisted of largewhite diamonds. There were others in the shape of pears formed ofpearls of the richest colors. There were opals, rubies, sapphires, andemeralds of such marvellous value that the large diamonds that encircledthem were considered as mere mountings not regarded in the estimationmade of the value of the jewels. 

As the ladies gazed upon the splendor of this collection, they were lostin wonder and admiration. Josephine, after enjoying for a while theirexpressions of delight, and having allowed them to examine the beautifulgems thoroughly, said to them kindly:

"I had no other motive, in ordering my jewels to be opened before you, than to spoil your fancy for such ornaments. After having seen suchsplendid sets, you can never feel a wish for inferior ones; the less sowhen you reflect how unhappy I have been, although with so rare acollection at my command. During the first dawn of my extraordinaryelevation, I delighted in these trifles, many of which were presented tome in Italy. I grew by degrees so tired of them that I no longer wearany, except when I am in some respects compelled to do so by my new rankin the world. A thousand accidents may, besides, contribute to depriveme of these brilliant, though useless objects. Do I not possess thependants of Queen Marie Antoinette? And yet am I quite sure of retainingthem? Trust to me, ladies, and do not envy a splendor which does notconstitute happiness. I shall not fail to surprise you when I relatethat I once felt more pleasure at receiving an old pair of shoes than atbeing presented with all the diamonds which are now spread before you. "

The young ladies could not help smiling at this observation, persuadedas they were that Josephine was not in earnest. But she repeated herassertions in so serious a manner that they felt the utmost curiosity tohear the story of this _wonderful pair of shoes_. 

"I repeat it, ladies, " said her majesty, "it is strictly true, that thepresent which, of all others, has afforded me most pleasure was a pairof old shoes of the coarsest leather; and you will readily believe itwhen you have heard my story. 

"I had set sail from Martinique, with Hortense, on board a ship in whichwe received such marked attentions that they are indelibly impressed onmy memory. Being separated from my first husband, my pecuniary resourceswere not very flourishing. The expense of my return to France, whichthe state of my affairs rendered necessary, had nearly drained me ofevery thing, and I found great difficulty in making the purchases whichwere indispensably requisite for the voyage. Hortense, who was a smart, lively child, sang negro songs, and performed negro dances withadmirable accuracy. She was the delight of the sailors, and, in returnfor their fondness, she made them her favorite company. I no sooner fellasleep than she slipped upon deck and rehearsed her various littleexercises, to the renewed delight and admiration of all on board. 

"An old mate was particularly fond of her, and whenever he found amoment's leisure from his daily occupations, he devoted it to his littlefriend, who was also exceedingly attached to him. My daughter's shoeswere soon worn out with her constant dancing and skipping. Knowing asshe did that I had no other pair for her, and fearing lest I shouldprevent her going upon deck if I should discover the plight of those shewas fast wearing away, she concealed the trifling accident from myknowledge. I saw her once returning with bleeding feet, and asked her, in the utmost alarm, if she had hurt herself; 'No, mamma. ' 'But yourfeet are bleeding. ' 'It really is nothing. ' I insisted upon ascertainingwhat ailed her, and found that her shoes were all in tatters, and herflesh dreadfully torn by a nail. 

"We had as yet only performed half the voyage; a long time wouldnecessarily elapse before I could procure a fresh pair of shoes; I wasmortified at the bare anticipation of the distress my poor Hortensewould feel at being compelled to remain confined in my wretched littlecabin, and of the injury her health might experience from the want ofexercise. At the moment when I was wrapped up in sorrow, and giving freevent to my tears, our friend the mate made his appearance, and inquired, with his honest bluntness, the cause of our _whimperings_. Hortensereplied, in a sobbing voice, that she could no longer go upon deckbecause she had torn her shoes, and I had no others to give her. 

"'Is that all?' said the sailor. 'I have an old pair in my trunk; let mego for them. You, madame, will cut them up, and I shall sew them overagain to the best of my power; every thing on board ship shall be turnedto account; this is not the place for being too nice or particular; wehave our most important wants gratified when we have the needful. '

"He did not wait for our reply, but went in quest of his old shoes, which he brought to us with an air of exultation, and offered them toHortense, who received the gift with every demonstration of delight. 

"We set to work with the greatest alacrity, and my daughter was enabled, towards the close of the day, to enjoy the pleasure of again amusing theship's company. I repeat it, that no present was ever received by mewith more sincere gratitude. I greatly reproach myself for havingneglected to make inquiries after the worthy seaman, who was only knownon board by the name of James. I should have felt a sincere satisfactionin rendering him some service, since it was afterwards in my power to doso. "

Josephine had spent three years in Martinique. Consequently, upon herreturn to France, Hortense was six years of age. Soon after her arrivalthe Reign of Terror commenced. The guillotine was erected, and its knifewas busy beheading those who were suspected of not being in fullsympathy with the reformers whom revolution had brought into power. Though Viscount Beauharnais had earnestly espoused the popular cause;though he had been president of the National Assembly, and afterwardsgeneral of the Army of the Rhine, still he was of noble birth, and hisolder brother was an aristocrat, and an emigrant. He was consequentlysuspected, and arrested. Having conducted him to prison, a committee ofthe Convention called at the residence of Josephine to examine thechildren, hoping to extort from them some evidence against their father. Josephine, in a letter to her aunt, thus describes this singular scene:

"You would hardly believe, dear aunt, that my children have justundergone a long and minute examination. That wicked old man, themember of the committee whom I have already mentioned to you, calledupon me, and, affecting to feel uneasy in regard to my husband, and toconverse with me respecting him, opened a conversation with my children. I acknowledge that I at first fell into the snare. What surprised me, however, was the sudden affability of the man. But he soon betrayedhimself by the malignity and even bitterness which he displayed when thechildren replied in such a manner as to give him no advantage overtheir unhappy parents. I soon penetrated his artful intentions. 

"When he found me on my guard, he threw off the mask, and admitted thathe was desired to procure information from my children, which, he said, might be more relied on, as it would bear the stamp of candor. He thenentered into a formal examination. At that moment I felt anindescribable emotion; and the conflicting effects of fear, anger, andindignation alternately agitated me. I was even upon the point of openlygiving vent to my feelings against the hoary revolutionist, when Ireflected that I might, by so doing, materially injure M. DeBeauharnais, against whom that atrocious villain appeared to have vowedperpetual enmity. I accordingly checked my angry passions. He desired meto leave him alone with my children; I attempted to resist, but hisferocious glance compelled me to give way. 

"He confined Hortense in the closet, and began to put questions to herbrother. My daughter's turn came next. As for this child, in whom hediscovered a premature quickness and penetration far above her age, hekept questioning her for a great length of time. After having soundedthem respecting our common topics of conversation, our opinions, thevisits and letters we were in the habit of receiving, but moreparticularly the occurrences they might have witnessed, he came to themain point--I mean, to the expressions used by Alexander. My childrengave very proper replies; such, in fact, as were suited to theirrespective dispositions. And notwithstanding the artfulness of amischievous man whose object is to discover guilt, the frankness of myson and the quick penetration of my daughter disconcerted his lowcunning, and even defeated the object he had in view. "

Viscount Beauharnais, when arrested, was conveyed to the palace of theLuxembourg, where he was imprisoned with many other captives. To sparethe feelings of the children, the fact of his imprisonment was concealedfrom them by Josephine, and they were given to understand that theirfather, not being very well, had placed himself under the care of acelebrated physician, who had recommended him to take up his residenceat the Luxembourg, where there was much vacant space, and consequentlypurer air. The imprisoned father was very anxious to see his wife andchildren. The authorities consented, allowing the children to go infirst under the care of an attendant, and afterwards their mother. 

Hortense, child as she was, was bewildered by the scene, and hersuspicions were evidently excited. As she came out, she said to hermother, "I think papa's apartments are very small, and the patients arevery numerous. "

After the children had left, Josephine was introduced. She knew that herhusband's life was in imminent peril. His penitence and grateful lovehad produced entire reconciliation, and had won back Josephine's heart. She was not willing that the children should witness the tender andaffecting interview which, under such circumstances, must take place. 

Beauharnais had but little hope that he should escape the guillotine. AsJosephine, bathed in tears, rushed into his arms, all his fortitudeforsook him. His emotion was so great that his wife, struggling againsther own anguish, used her utmost endeavors to calm and console him. 

In the midst of this heart-rending scene, to their consternation, thechildren, by some misunderstanding, were again led into the apartment. The father and mother struggled to disguise from them the cause of thatemotion which they could not conceal. For a time the children weresilent and bewildered; then Hortense, though with evident misgivings, attempted to console her parents. The events of her saddened life hadrendered her unusually precocious. Turning to her mother, she begged hernot to give way to so much sorrow, assuring her that she could not thinkthat her father was dangerously ill. Then addressing Eugene, she said, in a peculiar tone which her parents felt as a reproach, "I do not think, brother, that papa is very sick. At any rate, it is notsuch a sickness as doctors can cure. " Josephine felt the reproach, andconscious that it was in some degree deserved, said:

"What do you mean, my child? Do you think your father and I havecombined to deceive you?"

"Pardon me, mamma, but I do think so. "

"Oh, sister, " exclaimed Eugene, "how can you speak so strangely?"

"On the contrary, " Hortense replied, "it is very plain and natural. Surely affectionate parents may be allowed to deceive their childrenwhen they wish to spare their feelings. "

Josephine was seated in the lap of her husband. Hortense sprang intoher mother's arms, and encircled the neck of both father and mother in aloving embrace. Eugene caught the contagion, and by his tears andaffecting caresses added to this domestic scene of love and woe. 

It is the universal testimony that Eugene and Hortense were so lovely inperson and in character that they instantly won the affection of all whosaw them. The father was conscious that he was soon to die. He knew thatall his property would be confiscated. It was probable that Josephinewould also be led to her execution. The guillotine spared neither sexwho had incurred the suspicions of enthroned democracy. Both parentsforgot themselves, in their anxiety for their children. The execution ofBeauharnais would undoubtedly lead to the arrest and execution ofJosephine. The property of the condemned was invariably confiscated. There was thus danger that the children would be turned in beggary intothe streets. It is difficult to conceive the anguish which must haverent the hearts of affectionate parents in hours of woe so awful. 

The prisons were crowded with victims. Brief as were the trials, andrapid as was the execution of the guillotine, there was someconsiderable delay before Beauharnais was led before the revolutionarytribunal. In the mean time Josephine made several calls, with herchildren, upon her imprisoned husband. Little Hortense, whose suspicionswere strongly excited, watched every word, and soon became so convincedthat her father was a prisoner that it became impossible for her parentsany longer to conceal the fact. 

"What has papa done, " inquired Hortense, "that they will not let himcome home?"

"He has done nothing wrong, " said Josephine, timidly, for she knew notwhat spies might be listening. "He is only accused of being unfriendlyto the Government. "

Holding the hand of Eugene, Hortense exclaimed impetuously, "Oh, we willpunish your accusers as soon as we are strong enough. "

"Be silent, my child, " said her father anxiously. "If you are overheardI am lost. Both your mother and I may be made to suffer for anyimprudent remark which you may make. "

"But, papa, have you not often told us, " said Eugene, "that it wasproper to resist an act of oppression?"

"Yes, " said the father proudly, though conscious that his words might bereported and misrepresented to his merciless judges. "And I repeat it. Our conduct, however, must be guided by rules of prudence; and whoeverattempts to defeat the views of tyranny must beware of awaking it fromits slumbers. "

No philosophy has yet been able to explain the delicate mechanism of thehuman soul; its fleeting and varying emotions of joy and sadness, itsgleams of hope and shades of despair come and go, controlled byinfluences which entirely elude human scrutiny. In these days of gloom, rays of hope occasionally penetrated the cell of Beauharnais. 

At last the hour of dread came. Beauharnais was led before the terribletribunal. He was falsely accused of having promoted the surrender ofMentz to the Allies. He was doomed to death, and was sent to theConciergerie, whence he was to be conducted to his execution. This wasin July, 1794. Beauharnais was then thirty-four years of age. 

[Illustration: JOSEPHINE TAKING LEAVE OF HER CHILDREN. ]

It seems that the conversation which we have reported as having takenplace in the cell of Beauharnais had been overheard by listening ears, and reported to the committee as a conspiracy for the overthrow ofthe Republic. The arrest of Josephine was ordered. A warning letter fromsome friend reached her a few moments before the officers arrived, urging her to fly. It was an early hour in the morning. There was littlesleep for Josephine amidst those scenes of terror, and she was watchingby the side of her slumbering children. What could she do? Should sheabandon her children, and seek to save her own life by flight? Amother's love rendered that impossible. Should she take them with her inher flight? That would render her arrest certain; and the fact of herattempting to escape would be urged as evidence of her guilt. 

While distracted with these thoughts, the clatter of armed men was heardat her door. With anguish which none but a mother can comprehend, shebent over her children and imprinted, as she supposed, a last kiss upontheir cheeks. The affectionate little Hortense, though asleep, wasevidently agitated by troubled dreams. As she felt the imprint of hermother's lips, she threw her arms around her neck and exclaimed, "Cometo bed, dear mamma; they shall not take you away to-night. I have prayedto God for you. "

Josephine, to avoid waking the children, stepped softly from the room, closed the door, and entered her parlor. Here she was rudely seized bythe soldiers, who regarded her as a hated aristocrat. They tookpossession of the house and all its furniture in the name of theRepublic, left the children to suffer or to die as fate might decide, and dragged the mother to imprisonment in the Convent of the Carmelites. 

When the children awoke in the morning, they found themselves alone andfriendless in the heart of Paris. The wonderful events of their livesthus far had rendered them both unusually precocious. Eugene inparticular seemed to be endowed with all the thoughtfulness and wisdomof a full-grown man. After a few moments of anguish and tears, in viewof their dreadful situation, they sat down to deliberate upon the courseto be pursued. Hortense suggested that they should repair to theLuxembourg and seek the protection of their father in his imprisonmentthere. But Eugene, apprehensive that such a step might in some waycompromise the safety of their father, recalled to mind that they had agreat-aunt, far advanced in life, who was residing at Versailles in deepretirement. He proposed that they should seek refuge with her. Findinga former domestic of the family, she kindly led them to their aunt, where the desolate children were tenderly received. 

Beauharnais was now in the Conciergerie, doomed to die, and awaiting hisexecution. Josephine was in the prison of the Carmelites, expectinghourly to be led to the tribunal to receive also her doom of death. 

Hortense, an affectionate child, ardent and unreflecting in herimpatience to see her mother, one morning left her aunt's house atFontainebleau, to which place her aunt had removed, and in a market-carttravelled thirty miles to Paris. Here the energetic child, impelled bygrief and love, succeeded in finding her mother's maid, Victorine. Itwas however impossible for them to obtain access to the prison, andHortense the next day returned to Fontainebleau. Josephine, upon beinginformed of this imprudent act, to which affection had impelled herchild, wrote to her the following letter:

"I should be entirely satisfied with the good heart of my Hortense, wereI not displeased with her bad head. How is it, my daughter, that, without permission from your aunt, you have come to Paris? 'But it wasto see me, you will say. ' You ought to be aware that no one can see mewithout an order, to obtain which requires both means and precautions. And besides, you got upon M. Dorset's cart, at the risk of incommodinghim, and retarding the conveyance of his merchandise. In all this youhave been very inconsiderate. My child, observe: it is not sufficient todo good, you must also do good properly. At your age, the first of allvirtues is confidence and docility towards your relations. I amtherefore obliged to tell you that I prefer your tranquil attachment toyour misplaced warmth. This, however, does not prevent me from embracingyou, but less tenderly than I shall do when I learn that you havereturned to your aunt. "

On the evening of the 24th of July M. De Beauharnais received theannouncement in his cell, that with the dawn of the next morning he wasto be led to the guillotine. Under these circumstances he wrote thefollowing farewell letter to his wife:

"I have yet a few minutes to devote to affection, tears, and regret, andthen I must wholly give myself up to the glory of my fate and tothoughts of immortality. When you receive this letter, my dearJosephine, your husband will have ceased to live, and will be tastingtrue existence in the bosom of his Creator. Do not weep for him. Thewicked and senseless beings who survive him are more worthy of yourtears, for they are doing mischief which they can never repair. But letus not cloud the present moments by any thoughts of their guilt. I wish, on the contrary, to brighten these hours by the reflection that I haveenjoyed the affection of a lovely woman, and that our union would havebeen an uninterrupted course of happiness, but for errors which I wastoo late to acknowledge and atone for. This thought wrings tears from myeyes, though your generous heart pardons me. But this is no time torevive the recollection of my errors and of your wrongs. What thanks Iowe to Providence, who will reward you. 

"That Providence disposes of me before my time. This is anotherblessing, for which I am grateful. Can a virtuous man live happy when hesees the whole world a prey to the wicked? I should rejoice in beingtaken away, were it not for the thought of leaving those I love behindme. But if the thoughts of the dying are presentiments, something in myheart tells me that these horrible butcheries are drawing to a close;that the executioners will, in their turn, become victims; that thearts and sciences will again flourish in France; that wise and moderatelaws will take the place of cruel sacrifices, and that you will atlength enjoy the happiness which you have deserved. Our children willdischarge the debt for their father. 

 * * * * *

"I resume these incoherent and almost illegible lines, which wereinterrupted by the entrance of my jailer. I have submitted to a cruelceremony, which, under any other circumstances, I would have resisted atthe sacrifice of my life. Yet why should we rebel against necessity?Reason tells us to make the best of it we can. My hair has been cut off. I had some idea of buying a part of it, in order to leave to my wife andchildren an unequivocal pledge of my last recollection of them. Alas! myheart breaks at the very thought, and my tears bedew the paper on whichI am writing. Adieu, all that I love. Think of me, and do not forgetthat to die the victim of tyrants and the martyrs of liberty shedslustre on the scaffold. "

Josephine did not receive this letter until after her husband'sexecution. The next afternoon one of the daily papers was brought intothe prison of the Carmelites. Josephine anxiously ran her eye over therecord of the executions, and found the name of her husband in the fatallist. She fell senseless to the floor in a long-continued swoon. Whenconsciousness returned, she exclaimed at first, in the delirium of heranguish, "O God, let me die! let me die! There is no peace for me but inthe grave. " And then again a mother's love, as she thought of her orphanchildren, led her to cling to the misery of existence for their sake. Soon, however, the unpitying agents of the revolutionary tribunal cameto her with the announcement that in two days she was to be led to theConciergerie, and thence to her execution. 

In the following letter Josephine informed her children of the death oftheir father, and of her own approaching execution. It is a letterhighly characteristic of this wonderful woman in the attempt, by theassumption of calmness, to avoid as far as possible lacerating thefeelings of Eugene and Hortense. 

"The hand which will deliver this to you is faithful and sure. You willreceive it from a friend who knows and has shared my sorrows. I know notby what accident she has hitherto been spared. I call this accidentfortunate; she regards it as a calamity. 'Is it not disgraceful tolive, ' said she yesterday, 'when all who are good have the honor ofdying?' May Heaven, as the reward of her courage, refuse her the fatalhonor she desires. 

"As to me, I am qualified for that honor, and I am preparing myself forreceiving it. Why has disease spared me so long? But I must not murmur. As a wife, I ought to follow the fate of my husband, and can there nowbe any fate more glorious than to ascend the scaffold? It is a patent ofimmortality, purchased by a prompt and pleasing death. 

"My children, your father is dead, and your mother is about to followhim. But as before that final stroke the assassins leave me a fewmoments to myself, I wish to employ them in writing to you. Socrates, when condemned, philosophized with his disciples. A mother, on the pointof undergoing a similar fate, may discourse with her children. 

"My last sigh will be for you, and I wish to make my last words alasting lesson. Time was, when I gave you lessons in a more pleasingway. But the present will not be the less useful, that it is given at soserious a moment. I have the weakness to water it with my tears. Ishall soon have the courage to seal it with my blood. 

"Hitherto it was impossible to be happier than I have been. While to myunion with your father I owed my felicity, I may venture to think and tosay that to my character I was indebted for that union. I found in myheart the means of winning the affection of my husband's relations. Patience and gentleness always succeed in gaining the good-will ofothers. You also, my dear children, possess natural advantages whichcost little, and are of great value. But you must learn how to employthem, and that is what I still feel a pleasure in teaching you by myexample. 

 * * * * *

"Here I must record the gratitude I owe to my excellent brother-in-law, who has, under various circumstances, given me proofs of the mostsincere friendship, though he was of quite a different opinion from yourfather, who embraced the new ideas with all the enthusiasm of a livelyimagination. He fancied liberty was to be secured by obtainingconcessions from the king, whom he venerated. But all was lost, andnothing gained but anarchy. Who will arrest the torrent? O God! unlessthy powerful hand control and restrain it, we are undone. 

"For my part, my children, I am about to die, as your father died, avictim of the fury he always opposed, but to which he fell a sacrifice. I leave life without hatred of France and its assassins, whom I despise. But I am penetrated with sorrow for the misfortunes of my country. Honormy memory in sharing my sentiments. I leave for your inheritance theglory of your father and the name of your mother, whom some who havebeen unfortunate will bear in remembrance. "

CHAPTER II. 

THE MARRIAGE OF JOSEPHINE AND GENERAL BONAPARTE. 

1794-1799

Release of Josephine. --Apprenticeship of Eugene and Hortense. --NapoleonBonaparte. --Josephine and Napoleon. --Josephine to her aunt. --Marriage ofJosephine. --Letter to Eugene. --Rising greatness of Napoleon. --Expeditionto Egypt. --Letter to Bonaparte. --Madame Campan. --School-girldays. --Letter from Josephine. --Napoleon's return fromEgypt. --Josephine's anguish. --Jealousy of Napoleon. --The meeting inParis. --The cruel repulse. --The reconciliation. --Napoleon FirstConsul. --The Luxembourg. 

The day before Josephine was to be led to her execution there was a newrevolution in Paris. Robespierre and the party then in power wereoverthrown. From condemning others, they were condemned themselves. Theyhad sent hundreds, in the cart of the executioner, to the guillotine. Now it was their turn to take that fatal ride, to ascend the steps ofthe scaffold, and to have their own heads severed by the keen edge ofthe knife. Those whom they had imprisoned were set at liberty. 

As Josephine emerged from the gloom of her prison into the streets ofParis, she found herself a widow, homeless, almost friendless, and inthe extreme of penury. But for her children, life would have been aburden from which she would have been glad to be relieved by theexecutioner's axe. The storms of revolution had dispersed all herfriends, and terror reigned in Paris. Her children were living upon thecharity of others. It was necessary to conceal their birth as thechildren of a noble, for the brutal threat of Marat ever rang in herears, "We must exterminate all the whelps of aristocracy. "

Hoping to conceal the illustrious lineage of Eugene and Hortense, andprobably also impelled by the necessities of poverty, Josephineapprenticed her son to a house carpenter, and her daughter was placed, with other girls of more lowly birth, in the shop of a milliner. ButJosephine's beauty of person, grace of manners, and culture of mindcould not leave her long in obscurity. Every one who met her was charmedwith her unaffected loveliness. New friends were created, among themsome who were in power. Through their interposition, a portion of herhusband's confiscated estates was restored to her. She was thus providedwith means of a frugal support for herself and her children. Engaginghumble apartments, she devoted herself entirely to their education. Bothof the children were richly endowed; inheriting from their mother andtheir father talents, personal loveliness, and an instinctive power ofattraction. Thus there came a brief lull in those dreadful storms oflife by which Josephine had been so long buffeted. 

But suddenly, like the transformations of the kaleidoscope, there cameanother and a marvellous change. All are familiar with the circumstancesof her marriage to the young and rising general, Napoleon Bonaparte. This remarkable young man, enjoying the renown of having capturedToulon, and of having quelled a very formidable insurrection in thestreets of Paris, was ordered by the then existing Government to disarmthe whole Parisian population, that there might be no further attempt atinsurrection. The officers who were sent, in performance of this duty, from house to house, took from Josephine the sword of her husband, whichshe had preserved as a sacred relic. The next day Eugene repaired to thehead-quarters of General Bonaparte to implore that the sword of hisfather might be restored to him. The young general was so much impressedwith the grace and beauty of the boy, and with his artless and touchingeloquence, that he made many inquiries respecting his parentage, treatedhim with marked tenderness, and promptly restored the sword. Josephinewas so grateful for the kindness of General Bonaparte to Eugene, thatthe next day she drove to his quarters to express a mother's thanks. General Bonaparte was even more deeply impressed with the grace andloveliness of the mother than he had been with the child. He sought heracquaintance; this led to intimacy, to love, and to the proffer ofmarriage. 

In the following letter to a friend Josephine expressed her views inreference to her marriage with General Bonaparte:

"I am urged, my dear, to marry again by the advice of all my friends, and I may almost say, by the commands of my aunt and the prayers of mychildren. Why are you not here to help me by your advice, and to tell mewhether I ought or not to consent to a union which certainly seemscalculated to relieve me from the discomforts of my present situation?Your friendship would render you clear-sighted to my interests, and aword from you would suffice to bring me to a decision. 

"Among my visitors you have seen General Bonaparte. He is the man whowishes to become a father to the orphans of Alexander de Beauharnais, and husband to his widow. 

"'Do you love him?' is naturally your first question. My answer isperhaps '_no_. ' 'Do you dislike him?' 'No, ' again. But the sentiments Ientertain towards him are of that lukewarm kind which true devoteesthink worst of all, in matters of religion. Now love being a sort ofreligion, my feelings ought to be very different from what they reallyare. This is the point on which I want your advice, which would fix thewavering of my irresolute disposition. To come to a decision has alwaysbeen too much for my Creole inertness, and I find it easier to obey thewishes of others. 

"I admire the general's courage, the extent of his information on everysubject on which he converses; his shrewd intelligence, which enableshim to understand the thoughts of others before they are expressed. ButI confess that I am somewhat fearful of that control which he seemsanxious to exercise over all about him. There is something in hisscrutinizing glance that can not be described. It awes even ourDirectors. Therefore it may well be supposed to intimidate a woman. Hetalks of his passion for me with a degree of earnestness which rendersit impossible to doubt his sincerity. Yet this very circumstance, whichyou would suppose likely to please me, is precisely that which haswithheld me from giving the consent which I have often been upon thepoint of uttering. 

"My spring of life is past. Can I then hope to preserve for any lengthof time that ardor of affection which in the general amounts almost tomadness? If his love should cool, as it certainly will after ourmarriage, will he not reproach me for having prevented him from forminga more advantageous connection? What, then, shall I say? What shall Ido? I may shut myself up and weep. Fine consolation truly, methinks Ihear you say. But unavailing as I know it is, weeping is, I assure you, my only consolation whenever my poor heart receives a wound. Write to mequickly, and pray scold me if you think me wrong. You know every thingis welcome that comes from you. 

"Barras[B] assures me that if I marry the general, he will get himappointed commander-in-chief of the Army of Italy. This favor, thoughnot yet granted, occasions some murmuring among Bonaparte'sbrother-officers. When speaking to me on the subject yesterday, GeneralBonaparte said:

[Footnote B: Barras, a leading member of the Directory, and a strongfriend of General Bonaparte. ]

"'Do they think that I can not get forward without their patronage? Oneday or other they will all be too happy if I grant them mine. I have agood sword by my side, which will carry me on. '

"What do you think of this self-confidence? Does it not savor ofexcessive vanity? A general of brigade to talk of patronizing the chiefsof Government? It is very ridiculous. Yet I know not how it happens, hisambitious spirit sometimes wins upon me so far that I am almost temptedto believe in the practicability of any project he takes into his head;and who can foresee what he may attempt?

"Madame Tallien desires me to present her love to you. She is still fairand good as ever. She employs her immense influence only for the benefitof the unfortunate. And when she performs a favor, she appears aspleased and satisfied as though she herself were the obliged party. Herfriendship for me is most affectionate and sincere. And of my regard forher I need only say that it is equal to that which I entertain for you. 

"Hortense grows more and more interesting every day. Her pretty figureis fully developed, and, if I were so inclined, I should have amplereason to rail at Time, who confers charms on the daughter at theexpense of the mother. But truly I have other things to think of. I tryto banish gloomy thoughts, and look forward to a more propitious future, for we shall soon meet, never to part again. 

"But for this marriage, which harasses and unsettles me, I could becheerful in spite of every thing. Were it once over, happen what might, I could resign myself to my fate. I am inured to suffering, and, if I bedestined to taste fresh sorrow, I can support it, provided my children, my aunt, and you remain to comfort me. 

"You know we have agreed to dispense with all formal terminations to ourletters. So adieu, my friend, "JOSEPHINE. "

In March, 1796, Josephine became the bride of Napoleon Bonaparte, thenthe most promising young general in France, and destined to become, inachievements and renown, the foremost man in all the world. Eugene wasimmediately taken into the service of his stepfather. 

In the following letter to Eugene we have a pleasing revelation of thecharacter of Hortense at that time, and of the affectionate relationsexisting between the mother and her children:

"I learn with pleasure, my dear Eugene, that your conduct is worthy ofthe name you bear, and of the protector under whom it is so easy tolearn to become a great captain. Bonaparte has written to me that youare every thing that he can wish. As he is no flatterer, my heart isproud to read your eulogy sketched by a hand which is usually far frombeing lavish in praise. You well know that I never doubted yourcapability to undertake great things, or the brilliant courage which youinherit. But you, alas! know how much I dislike your removal from me, fearing that your natural impetuosity might carry you too far, and thatit might prevent you from submitting to the numerous petty details ofdiscipline which must be very disagreeable when the rank is onlysubaltern. 

"Judge, then, of my joy on learning that you remember my advice, andthat you are as obedient to your superiors in command as you are kindand humane to those beneath you. This conduct, my child, makes me quitehappy, and these words, I know, will reward you more than all the favorsyou can receive. Read them often, and repeat to yourself that yourmother, though far from you, complains not of her lot, since she knowsthat yours will be brilliant, and will deserve so to be. 

"Your sister shares all my feelings, and will tell you so herself. Butthat of which I am sure she will not speak, and which is therefore myduty to tell, is her attention to me and her aunt. Love her, my son, forto me she brings consolation, and she overflows with affection for you. She prosecutes her studies with uncommon success, but music, I think, will be the art she will carry to the highest perfection. With her sweetvoice, which is now well cultivated, she sings romances in a manner thatwould surprise you. I have just bought her a new piano from the bestmaker, Erard, which redoubles her passion for that charming art whichyou prefer to every other. That perhaps accounts for your sisterapplying to it with so much assiduity. 

"Were you here, you would be telling me a thousand times a day to bewareof the men who pay particular attention to Hortense. Some there are whodo so whom you do not like, and whom you seem to fear she may prefer. Set your mind at rest. She is a bit of a coquette, is pleased with hersuccess, and torments her victims, but her heart is free. I am theconfidante of all her thoughts and feelings, which have hitherto beenjust what they ought to be. She now knows that when she thinks ofmarrying, it is not my consent alone she has to seek, and that my willis subordinate to that of the man to whom we owe every thing. Theknowledge of this fact must prevent her from fixing her choice in a waythat may not meet the approval of Bonaparte, and the latter will notgive your sister in marriage to any one to whom you can object. "

There was now an end to poverty and obscurity. The rise of Napoleon wasso brilliant and rapid that Josephine was speedily placed at the head ofsociety in Paris, and vast crowds were eager to do her homage. Neverbefore did man move with strides so rapid. The lapse of a few monthstransformed her from almost a homeless, friendless, impoverished widow, to be the bride of one whose advancing greatness seemed to outvie thewildest creations of fiction. The unsurpassed splendor of Napoleon'sachievements crowded the saloons of Josephine with statesmen, philosophers, generals, and all who ever hasten to the shrine of risinggreatness. 

After the campaign of Italy, which gave Napoleon not only a French but aEuropean reputation for military genius and diplomatic skill, he tookcommand of the Army of Egypt. Josephine accompanied him to Toulon. Standing upon a balcony, she with tearful eyes watched the recedingfleet which bore her husband to that far-distant land, until itdisappeared beneath the horizon of the blue Mediterranean. Eugeneaccompanied his father. Hortense remained with her mother, who took upher residence most of the time during her husband's absence atPlombières, a celebrated watering-place. 

Josephine, anxious in every possible way to promote the popularity ofher absent husband, and thus to secure his advancement, received withcordiality all who came to her with their congratulations. She wasendowed with marvellous power of pleasing. Every one who saw her wascharmed with her. Hortense was bewitchingly beautiful and attractive. 

Josephine had ample means to indulge her taste in entertainments, andwas qualified eminently to shine in such scenes. The consequence wasthat her saloons were the constant resort of rank and wealth andfashion. Some enemy wrote to Napoleon, and roused his jealousy to a veryhigh degree, by representing Josephine as forgetting her husband, immersed in pleasure, and coquetting with all the world. 

Napoleon was exceedingly disturbed, and wrote Josephine a very severeletter. The following extract from her reply fully explains the natureof this momentary estrangement:

"Is it possible, general, that the letter I have just received comesfrom you? I can scarcely credit it when I compare that letter withothers to which your love imparts so many charms. My eyes, indeed, wouldpersuade me that your hands traced these lines, but my heart refuses tobelieve that a letter from you could ever have caused the mortal anguishI experience on perusing these expressions of your displeasure, whichafflict me the more when I consider how much pain they must have causedyou. 

"I know not what I have done to provoke some malignant enemy to destroymy peace by disturbing yours. But certainly a powerful motive mustinfluence some one in continually renewing calumnies against me, andgiving them a sufficient appearance of probability to impose on the manwho has hitherto judged me worthy of his affection and confidence. Thesetwo sentiments are necessary to my happiness. And if they are to be sosoon withdrawn from me, I can only regret that I was ever blest inpossessing them or knowing you. 

"On my first acquaintance with you, the affliction with which I wasoverwhelmed led me to believe that my heart must ever remain a strangerto any sentiment resembling love. The sanguinary scenes of which I hadbeen a witness and a victim constantly haunted my thoughts. I thereforeapprehended no danger to myself from the frequent enjoyment of yoursociety. Still less did I imagine that I could for a single moment fixyour choice. 

"I, like every one else, admired your talents and acquirements. Andbetter than any one else I foresaw your future glory. But still I lovedyou only for the services you rendered to my country. Why did you seekto convert admiration into a more tender sentiment, by availing yourselfof all those powers of pleasing with which you are so eminently gifted, since, so shortly after having united your destiny with mine, youregret the felicity you have conferred upon me?

"Do you think I can ever forget the love with which you once cherishedme? Can I ever become indifferent to the man who has blest me with themost enthusiastic and ardent passion? Can I ever efface from my memoryyour paternal affection for Hortense, the advice and example you havegiven Eugene? If all this appears impossible, how can you, for a moment, suspect me of bestowing a thought upon any but yourself?

"Instead of listening to traducers, who, for reasons which I can notexplain, seek to disturb our happiness, why do you not silence them byenumerating the benefits you have bestowed on a woman whose heart couldnever be reached with ingratitude? The knowledge of what you have donefor my children would check the malignity of these calumniators; forthey would then see that the strongest link of my attachment for youdepends on my character as a mother. Your subsequent conduct, which hasclaimed the admiration of all Europe, could have no other effect than tomake me adore the husband who gave me his hand when I was poor andunfortunate. Every step you take adds to the glory of the name I bear. Yet this is the moment which has been selected for persuading you that Ino longer love you! Surely nothing can be more wicked and absurd thanthe conduct of those who are about you, and are jealous of your markedsuperiority. 

"Yes, I still love you, and no less tenderly than ever. Those who allegethe contrary know that they speak falsely. To those very persons I havefrequently written to inquire about you, and to recommend them toconsole you, by their friendship, for the absence of her who is yourbest and truest friend. 

"I acknowledge that I see a great deal of company; for every one iseager to compliment me on your success, and I confess that I have notresolution to close my door against those who speak of you. I alsoconfess that a great portion of my visitors are gentlemen. Menunderstand your bold projects better than women; and they speak withenthusiasm of your glorious achievements, while my female friends onlycomplain of you for having carried away their husbands, brothers, orfathers. 

"I take no pleasure in their society if they do not praise you. Yetthere are some among them whose hearts and understandings claim myhighest regard, because they entertain sincere friendship for you. Inthis number I may mention ladies Arquillon, Tallien, and my aunt. Theyare almost constantly with me; and they can tell you, ungrateful as youare, whether _I have been coquetting with every body_. These are yourwords. And they would be hateful to me were I not certain that you haddisavowed them, and are sorry for having written them. 

"I sometimes receive honors here which cause me no small degree ofembarrassment. I am not accustomed to this sort of homage. And I seethat it is displeasing to our authorities, who are always suspicious andfearful of losing their newly-gotten power. If they are envious now, what will they be when you return crowned with fresh laurels? Heavenknows to what lengths their malignity will then carry them. But you willbe here, and then nothing can vex me. 

"But I will say no more of them, nor of your suspicions, which I do notrefute one by one, because they are all equally devoid of probability. And to make amends for the unpleasant commencement of this letter, Iwill tell you something which I know will please you. 

"Hortense, in her efforts to console me, endeavors as far as possible toconceal her anxiety for you and her brother. And she exerts all heringenuity to banish that melancholy, the existence of which you doubt, but which I assure you never forsakes me. If by her lively conversationand interesting talents she sometimes succeeds in drawing a smile, shejoyfully exclaims, 'Dear mamma, that will be known at Cairo. ' The fatalword immediately calls to my mind the distance which separates me fromyou and my son, and restores the melancholy which it was intended todivert. I am obliged to make great efforts to conceal my grief from mydaughter, who, by a word or a look, transports me to the very placewhich she would wish to banish from my thoughts. 

"Hortense's figure is daily becoming more and more graceful. She dresseswith great taste; and though not quite so handsome as your sisters, shemay certainly be thought agreeable when even they are present. 

"Heaven knows when or where you may receive this letter. May it restoreyou to that confidence which you ought never to have lost, and convinceyou, more than ever, that, long as I live, I shall love you as dearly asI did on the day of our separation. Adieu. Believe me, love me, andreceive a thousand kisses. 

 "JOSEPHINE. "

There was at that time a very celebrated female school at St. Germain, under the care of Madame Campan. This illustrious lady was familiar withall the etiquette of the court, and was also endowed with a superiormind highly cultivated. At the early age of fifteen she had beenappointed reader to the daughter of Louis XV. Maria Antoinette took astrong fancy to her, and made her a friend and companion. The crumblingof the throne of the Bourbons and the dispersion of the court leftMadame Campan without a home, and caused what the world would call herruin. 

But in the view of true intelligence this reverse of fortune onlyelevated her to a far higher position of responsibility, usefulness, andpower. Impelled by necessity, she opened a boarding-school for youngladies at St. Germain. The school soon acquired celebrity. Almost everyillustrious family in France sought to place their daughters under hercare. She thus educated very many young ladies who subsequently occupiedvery important positions in society as the wives and mothers ofdistinguished men. Some of her pupils attained to royalty. Thus theboarding-school of Madame Campan became a great power in France. 

Hortense was sent to this school with Napoleon's sister Caroline, whosubsequently became Queen of Naples, and with Stephanie Beauharnais, towhom we shall have occasion hereafter to refer as Duchess of Baden. Stephanie was a cousin of Hortense, being a daughter of her father'sbrother, the Marquis de Beauharnais. 

In this school Hortense formed many very strong attachments. Her mostintimate friend, however, whom she loved with affection which neverwaned, was a niece of Madame Campan, by the name of Adèle Auguié, afterwards Madame de Broc, whose sad fate, hereafter to be described, was one of the heaviest blows which fell upon Hortense. It would seemthat Hortense was not at all injured by the flattery lavished upon herin consequence of the renown of her father. She retained, unchanged, allher native simplicity of character, which she had inherited from hermother, and which she ever saw illustrated in her mother's words andactions. Treating the humblest with the same kindness as the mostexalted, she won all hearts, and made herself the friend of every one inthe school. 

But her cousin Stephanie was a very different character. Her father, theMarquis, had fled from France an emigrant. He was an aristocrat bybirth, and in all his cherished sentiments. In his flight with thenobles, from the terrors of the revolution, he had left his daughterbehind, as the protégée of Josephine. Inheriting a haughty disposition, and elated by the grandeur which her uncle was attaining, she assumedconsequential airs which rendered her disagreeable to many of hercompanions. The eagle eye of Josephine detected these faults in thecharacter of her niece. As Stephanie returned to school from one of hervacations, Josephine sent by her the following letter to Madame Campan:

"In returning to you my niece, my dear Madame Campan, I send you boththanks and reproof:--thanks for the brilliant education you have givenher, and reproof for the faults which your acuteness must have noticed, but which your indulgence has passed over. She is good-tempered, butcold; well-informed, but disdainful; lively, but deficient in judgment. She pleases no one, and it gives her no pain. She fancies the renown ofher uncle and the gallantry of her father are every thing. Teach her, but teach her plainly, without mincing, that in reality they arenothing. 

"We live in an age when every one is the child of his own deeds. And ifthey who fill the highest ranks of public service enjoy any superioradvantage or privilege, it is the opportunity to be more useful and morebeloved. It is thus alone that good fortune becomes pardonable in theeyes of the envious. This is what I would have you repeat to herconstantly. I wish her to treat all her companions as her equals. Manyof them are better, or at least quite as deserving as she is herself, and their only inferiority is in not having had relations equallyskillful or equally fortunate. 

 "JOSEPHINE BONAPARTE. "

On the 8th of October, 1799, Napoleon landed at Fréjus, on his returnfrom Egypt. His mind was still very much disturbed with the reportswhich had reached him respecting Josephine. Fréjus was six hundred milesfrom Paris--a long journey, when railroads were unknown. Theintelligence of his arrival was promptly communicated to the metropolisby telegraph. Josephine received the news at midnight. Without an hour'sdelay she entered her carriage with Hortense, taking as a protectorNapoleon's younger brother Louis, who subsequently married Hortense, andset out to meet her husband. Almost at the same hour Napoleon leftFréjus for Paris. 

When Josephine reached Lyons, a distance of two hundred and forty-twomiles from Paris, she learned, to her consternation, that Napoleon hadleft the city several hours before her arrival, and that they had passedeach other by different roads. Her anguish was dreadful. For many monthsshe had not received a line from her husband, as all communication hadbeen intercepted by the British cruisers. She knew that her enemieswould be busy in poisoning the mind of her husband against her. She hadtraversed the weary leagues of her journey without a moment'sintermission, and now, faint, exhausted, and despairing, she was toretrace her steps, to reach Paris only many hours after Napoleon wouldhave arrived there. Probably in all France there was not then a moreunhappy woman than Josephine. 

The mystery of human love and jealousy no philosophy can explain. Secretwretchedness was gnawing at the heart of Napoleon. He loved Josephinewith intensest passion, and all the pride of his nature was roused bythe conviction that she had trifled with him. With these conflictingemotions rending his soul, he entered Paris and drove to his dwelling. Josephine was not there. Even Josephine had bitter enemies, as all whoare in power ever must have. These enemies took advantage of her absenceto fan the flames of that jealousy which Napoleon could not conceal. Itwas represented to him that Josephine had fled from her home, afraid tomeet the anger of her injured husband. As he paced the floor in anguish, which led him to forget all his achievements in the past and all hishopes for the future, an enemy maliciously remarked, "Josephine will soon appear before you with all her arts of fascination. She will explain matters, you will forgive all, and tranquillity will berestored. "

Napoleon, striding nervously up and down the floor, replied with pallidcheek and trembling lip, "Never! never! Were I not sure of my resolution, I would tear out thisheart and cast it into the fire. "

Eugene had returned with Napoleon. He loved his mother to adoration. Anxiously he sat at the window watching, hour after hour, for herarrival. At midnight on the 19th the rattle of her carriage-wheels washeard, as she entered the court-yard of their dwelling in the RueChantereine. Eugene rushed to his mother's arms. Napoleon had ever beenthe most courteous of husbands. Whenever Josephine returned, even froman ordinary morning drive, he would leave any engagements to greet heras she alighted from her carriage. But now, after an absence of eighteenmonths, he remained sternly in his chamber, the victim of almostunearthly misery. 

In a state of terrible agitation, with limbs tottering and heartthrobbing, Josephine, assisted by Eugene and accompanied by Hortense, ascended the stairs to the parlor where she had so often received thecaresses of her husband. She opened the door. Napoleon stood before her, pale, motionless as a marble statue. Without one kind word of greetinghe said sternly, in words which pierced her heart, "Madame, it is my wish that you retire immediately to Malmaison. "

The meek and loving Josephine uttered not a word. She would have fallensenseless to the floor, had she not been caught in the arms of her son. It was midnight. For a week she had lived in her carriage almost withoutsleep. She was in a state of utter exhaustion, both of body and of mind. It was twelve miles to Malmaison. Napoleon had no idea that she wouldleave the house until the morning. Much to his surprise, he soon heardthe carriage in the yard, and Josephine, accompanied by Eugene andHortense, descending the stairs. The naturally kind heart of Napoleoncould not assent to such cruelty. Immediately going down into the yard, though his pride would not permit him to speak to Josephine, headdressed Eugene, and requested them all to return for refreshment andrepose. 

In silent submission, Eugene and Hortense conducted their mother to herapartment, where she threw herself upon her couch in abject misery. Inequally sleepless woe, Napoleon retired to his cabinet. Two days ofwretchedness passed away. On the third, the love for Josephine, whichstill reigned in the heart of Napoleon, so far triumphed that heentered her apartment. Josephine was seated at a toilette-table, withher head bowed, and her eyes buried in her handkerchief. The table wascovered with the letters which she had received from Napoleon, and whichshe had evidently been perusing. Hortense, the victim of grief anddespair, was standing in the alcove of a window. 

[Illustration: THE RECONCILIATION. ]

Apparently Josephine did not hear the approaching footsteps of herhusband. He advanced softly to her chair, placed his hand upon it, andsaid, in tones almost of wonted kindness, "Josephine. " She started atthe sound of that well-known and dearly-loved voice, and turning towardshim her swollen and flooded eyes, responded, "My dear. " The words oftenderness, the loving voice, brought back with resistless rush thememory of the past. Napoleon was vanquished. He extended his hand toJosephine. She rose, threw her arms around his neck, rested herthrobbing, aching head upon his bosom, and wept in convulsions ofanguish. A long explanation ensued. Napoleon again pressed Josephine tohis loving heart, satisfied, perfectly satisfied that he had deeplywronged her; that she had been the victim of base traducers. Thereconciliation was perfect. 

Soon after this Napoleon overthrew the Directory, and established theConsulate. This was on the ninth of November, 1799, usually called 18thBrumaire. Napoleon was thirty years of age, and was now First Consul ofFrance. After the wonderful achievements of this day of peril, duringwhich Napoleon had not been able to send a single line to his wife, atfour o'clock in the morning he alighted from his carriage at the door ofhis dwelling at the Rue Chantereine. Josephine, in a state of greatanxiety, was watching at the window for his approach. She sprang to meethim. Napoleon encircled her in his arms, and briefly recapitulated thememorable scenes of the day. He assured her that since he had taken theoath of office, he had not allowed himself to speak to a singleindividual, for he wished the beloved voice of his Josephine might bethe first to congratulate him upon his virtual accession to the Empireof France. Throwing himself upon a couch for a few moments of repose, heexclaimed gayly, "Good-night, my Josephine. To-morrow we sleep in thepalace of the Luxembourg. "

This renowned palace, with its vast saloons, its galleries of art, itsgarden, is one of the most attractive of residences. Napoleon was nowvirtually the monarch of France. Josephine was a queen, Eugene andHortense prince and princess. Strange must have been the emotions ofJosephine and her children as, encompassed with regal splendor, theytook up their residence in the palace. But a few years before, Josephine, in poverty, friendlessness, and intensest anguish of heart, had led her children by the hand through those halls to visit herimprisoned husband. From one of those apartments the husband and fatherhad been led to his trial, and to the scaffold, and now this motherenters this palace virtually a queen, and her children have openingbefore them the very highest positions of earthly wealth and honor. 

CHAPTER III. 

HORTENSE AND DUROC. 

1799-1804

Calumnies. --Testimony of the Berkeley men. --Remarks of Napoleon at St. Helena. --The voice of slander. --Testimony of the Duchess ofAbrantes. --Portrait of Hortense. --Testimony of Bourrienne. --Napoleon atthe Tuileries. --Beauty of Josephine. --Malmaison. --Remarkable testimonyof Napoleon. --The infernal machine. --The royalist conspiracy. --Letterfrom Josephine. --Michel Duroc. --General Duroc at Bautzen. --Death ofDuroc. --Grief of Napoleon. --Affecting scene. --Quotation from J. T. Headley. --Character of Duroc. --Family complications. --The divorcesuggested. --Character of Louis Bonaparte. --Testimony ofBourrienne. --Disappointed lovers. 

It is a very unamiable trait in human nature, that many persons are moreeager to believe that which is bad in the character of others than thatwhich is good. The same voice of calumny, which has so mercilesslyassailed Josephine, has also traduced Hortense. It is painful to witnessthe readiness with which even now the vilest slanders, devoid of allevidence, can be heaped upon a noble and virtuous woman who is in hergrave. 

In the days of Napoleon's power, he himself, his mother, his wife, hissisters, and his stepdaughter, Hortense, were assailed with the mostenvenomed accusations malice could engender. These infamous assaults, which generally originated with the British Tory press, still havelingering echoes throughout the world. There are those who seem toconsider it no crime to utter the most atrocious accusations, evenwithout a shadow of proof, against those who are not living. Well do the"Berkeley men" say:

"The Bonapartes, especially the women of that family, have always beentoo proud and haughty to degrade themselves. Even had they lacked whatis technically called moral character, their virtue has been intrenchedbehind their ancestry, and the achievements of their own family. Nor wasthere at any time an instant when any one of the Bonapartes could haveoverstepped, by a hair's-breadth, the line of decency, without beingfatally exposed. None of them pursued the noiseless tenor of their wayalong the vale of obscurity. They were walking in the clear sunshine, onthe topmost summits of the earth, and millions of enemies were watchingevery step they took. The highest genius of historians, the bitterestsatire of dramatists, the meanest and most malignant pen of thejournalists have assailed them for half a century. We have written thesewords because a Republican is the only man likely to speak well of theBonaparte family. It was, and is, and will be the dynasty of the people, standing there from 1804, a fearful antagonism against the feudal ageand its souvenirs of oppression and crime. "

Napoleon at St. Helena said: "Of all the libels and pamphlets with whichthe English ministers have inundated Europe, there is not one whichwill reach posterity. When there shall not be a trace of those libels tobe found, the great monuments of utility which I have reared, and thecode of laws which I have formed, will descend to the remotest ages; andfuture historians will avenge the wrongs done me by my contemporaries. There was a time when all crimes seemed to belong to me of right. Thus Ipoisoned Hoche, strangled Pichegru in his cell, I caused Kleber to beassassinated in Egypt, I blew out Desaix's brains at Marengo, I cut thethroats of persons who were confined in prison, I dragged the Pope bythe hair of his head, and a hundred similar abominations. And yet I havenot seen one of those libels which is worthy of an answer. These are socontemptible and so absurdly false, that they do not merit any othernotice than to write _false_, _false_, on every page. "

It is well known, by every one acquainted with the past history of ourcountry, that George Washington was assailed in the severest possiblelanguage of vituperation. He was charged with military inability, administrative incapacity, mental weakness, and gross personalimmorality. He was denounced as a murderer, and a hoary-headed traitor. This is the doom of those in power. And thousands of men in those daysbelieved those charges. 

It is seldom possible to prove a negative. But no evidence has ever beenbrought forward to substantiate the rumors brought against Hortense. These vile slanderers have even gone so far as to accuse Napoleon ofcrimes, in reference to the daughter of Josephine and the wife of hisbrother, which, if true, should consign him to eternal infamy. The"Berkeley men, " after making the most thorough historic investigationsin writing the life both of Louis Bonaparte and Hortense, say:

"Louis was a little over twenty-three years of age at the time of hismarriage. Hortense was nineteen. In his memoirs Louis treats with scornand contempt the absurd libels respecting his domestic affairs, involving the purity of his wife's character and the legitimacy of hischildren. Napoleon, also, in his conversations at St. Helena, thoughtproper to allude to the subject, and indignantly to repel the chargeswhich had been made against Hortense, at the same time showing theentire improbability of the stories about her and her offspring. _Wehave found nothing, in our investigations on this subject to justifyeven a suspicion against the morals or integrity of Louis or Hortense;and we here dismiss the subject with the remark that, there is morecause for sympathy with the parties to this unhappy union than ofcensure for their conduct. _"

The Duchess of Abrantes, who was intimately acquainted with Hortensefrom her childhood and with the whole Bonaparte family, in herinteresting memoirs writes: "Hortense de Beauharnais was fresh as arose; and though her fair complexion was not relieved by much color, shehad enough to produce that freshness and bloom which was her chiefbeauty. A profusion of light hair played in silky locks round her softand penetrating blue eyes. The delicate roundness of her slender figurewas set off by the elegant carriage of her head. Her feet were small andpretty, her hands very white, with pink, well-rounded nails. But whatformed the chief attraction of Hortense was the grace and suavity of hermanners. She was gay, gentle, amiable. She had wit which, without thesmallest ill-temper, had just malice enough to be amusing. A polishededucation had improved her natural talents. She drew excellently, sangharmoniously, and performed admirably in comedy. In 1800 she was acharming young girl. She afterwards became one of the most amiableprincesses in Europe. I have seen many, both in their own courts and inParis, but I have never known one who had any pretensions to equaltalents. Her brother loved her tenderly. The First Consul looked uponher as his child. And it is only in that country so fertile in theinventions of scandal, that so foolish an accusation could have beenimagined, as that any feeling less pure than paternal affection actuatedhis conduct towards her. The vile calumny met the contempt it merited. "

The testimony of Bourrienne upon this point is decisive. Bourrienne hadbeen the private secretary of Napoleon, had become his enemy, and hadjoined the Bourbons. Upon the downfall of the Emperor he wrote a veryhostile life of Napoleon, being then in the employment of the Bourbons. In those envenomed pages, Bourrienne says that he has written severelyenough against Napoleon, to have his word believed when he makes anyadmission in his favor. He then writes:

"Napoleon never cherished for Hortense any feeling but a real paternaltenderness. He loved her, after his marriage with her mother, as hewould have loved his own child. For three years at least I was witnessto all their most private actions. I declare that I never saw any thingwhich could furnish the least ground for suspicion or the slightesttrace of culpable intimacy. This calumny must be classed with thosewhich malice delights to take with the character of men who becomecelebrated; calumnies which are adopted lightly and without reflection. 

"I freely declare that, did I retain the slightest doubt with regard tothis odious charge, I would avow it. But it is not true. Napoleon is nomore. Let his memory be accompanied only by that, be it good or bad, which really took place. Let not this complaint be made against him bythe impartial historian. I must say, in conclusion, on this delicatesubject, that Napoleon's principles were rigid in the extreme; and thatany fault of the nature charged neither entered his mind, nor was inaccordance with his morals or taste. "

Notwithstanding this abundant testimony, and notwithstanding the factthat no contradictory testimony can be adduced, which any historiancould be pardoned for treating with respect, there are still men to befound who will repeat those foul slanders, which ought long since tohave died away. 

Napoleon remained but two months in the palace of the Luxembourg. In themean time the palace of the Tuileries, which had been sacked byrevolutionary mobs, was re-furnished with much splendor. In February theCourt of the Consuls was transferred to the Tuileries. Napoleon had soentirely eclipsed his colleagues that he alone was thought of by theParisian populace. The royal apartments were prepared for Napoleon. Themore humble apartments, in the Pavilion of Flora, were assigned to thetwo other consuls. The transfer from the Luxembourg was made with greatpomp, in one of those brilliant parades which ever delight the eyes ofthe Parisians. Six thousand picked soldiers, with a gorgeous train ofofficers, formed his escort. Twenty thousand troops with all theconcomitants of military parade, lined the streets. A throng, from cityand country, which could not be numbered, gazed upon the scene. Napoleontook his seat in a magnificent carriage drawn by six beautiful whitehorses. The suite of rooms assigned to Josephine consisted of two largeparlors furnished with regal splendor, and several adjoining privaterooms. Here Hortense, a beautiful girl of about eighteen, found herselfat home in the apartments of the ancient kings of France. 

In the evening a brilliant assembly was gathered in the saloons ofJosephine. As she entered, with queenly grace, leaning upon the arm ofTalleyrand, a murmur of admiration rose from the whole multitude. Shewore a robe of white muslin. Her hair fell in ringlets upon her neck andshoulders, through which gleamed a necklace of priceless pearls. Thefestivities were protracted until a late hour in the morning. It wassaid that Josephine gained a social victory that evening, correspondingwith that which Napoleon had gained in the pageant of the day. In thesescenes Hortense shone with great brilliance. She was young, beautiful, graceful, amiable, witty, and very highly accomplished. In addition tothis, she was the stepdaughter of the First Consul, who was ascending ina career of grandeur which was to terminate no one could tell where. 

During Napoleon's absence in Egypt Josephine had purchased the beautifulestate of Malmaison. This was their favorite home. The chateau was avery convenient, attractive, but not very spacious rural edifice, surrounded with extensive grounds, ornamented with lawns, shrubbery, andforest-trees. With the Tuileries for her city residence, Malmaison forher rural retreat, Napoleon for her father, Josephine for her mother, Eugene for her brother; with the richest endowments of person, mind, andheart, with glowing health, and surrounded by admirers, Hortense seemednow to be placed upon the very highest pinnacle of earthly happiness. 

Josephine and Hortense resided at Malmaison when Napoleon made his tenmonths' campaign into Italy, which was terminated by the victory ofMarengo. They both busily employed their time in making thoseimprovements on the place which would create a pleasant surprise forNapoleon on his return. Here they opened a new path through the forest;here they spanned a stream with a beautiful rustic bridge; upon a gentleeminence a pavilion rose; and new parterres of flowers gladdened theeye. Every charm was thrown around the place which the genius and tasteof Josephine and Hortense could suggest. At midnight, on the second ofJuly, Napoleon returned to Paris, and immediately hastened to the armsof his wife and daughter at Malmaison. He was so pleased with itsretirement and rural beauty that, forgetting the splendors ofFontainebleau and Saint Cloud, he ever after made it his favoriteresidence. Fortunate is the tourist who can obtain permission to saunterthrough those lovely walks, where the father, the wife, and thedaughter, for a few brief months, walked almost daily, arm in arm, inthe enjoyment of nearly all the happiness which they were destined onearth to share. The Emperor, at the close of his career, said upon hisdying bed at St. Helena, "I am indebted for all the little happiness I have enjoyed on earth tothe love of Josephine. "

Hortense and her mother frequently rode on horseback, both being verygraceful riders, and very fond of that recreation. At moments whenNapoleon could unbend from the cares of state, the family amusedthemselves, with such guests as were present, in the game of "prisoners"on the lawn. For several years this continued to be the favorite pastimeat Malmaison. Kings and queens were often seen among the pursuers andthe pursued on the green sward. 

It was observed that Napoleon was always solicitous to have Josephine onhis side. And whenever, in the progress of the game, she was takenprisoner, he was nervously anxious until she was rescued. Napoleon, whohad almost lived upon horseback, was a poor runner, and would often, inhis eagerness, fall, rolling head-long over the grass, raising shouts oflaughter. Josephine and Hortense were as agile as they were graceful. 

On the 24th of December, 1800, Napoleon, Josephine, and Hortense weregoing to the opera, to hear Haydn's Oratorio of the Creation. It wasthen to be performed for the first time. Napoleon, busily engaged inbusiness, went reluctantly at the earnest solicitation of Josephine. Three gentlemen rode with Napoleon in his carriage. Josephine, withHortense and other friends, followed in her private carriage. As thecarriages were passing through the narrow street of St. Nicaire, atremendous explosion took place, which was heard all over Paris. Aninfernal machine, of immense power, had been conveyed to the spot, concealed beneath a cart, which was intended, at whatever sacrifice ofthe lives of others, to render the assassination of the First Consulcertain. Eight persons were instantly killed; more than sixty werewounded. Several buildings were nearly demolished. The windows of bothcarriages were dashed in, and the shattered vehicles were tossed to andfro like ships in a storm. Napoleon almost miraculously escapedunharmed. Hortense was slightly wounded by the broken glass. Still theyall heroically went on to the opera, where, in view of theirprovidential escape, they were received with thunders of applause. 

It was at first supposed that the Jacobins were the authors of thisinfamous plot. It was afterwards proved to be a conspiracy of theRoyalists. Josephine, whose husband had bled beneath the slide of theguillotine, and who had narrowly escaped the axe herself, withcharacteristic humanity forgot the peril to which she and her friendshad been exposed, in sympathy for those who were to suffer for thecrime. The criminals were numerous. They were the nobles with whomJosephine had formerly lived in terms of closest intimacy. She wrote toFouché, the Minister of Police, in behalf of these families about to beplunged into woe by the merited punishment of the conspirators. Thisletter reflects such light upon the character of Josephine, whichcharacter she transmitted to Hortense, that it claims insertion here. 

"CITIZEN MINISTER, --While I yet tremble at the frightful event which hasjust occurred, I am disquieted and distressed through fear of thepunishment necessarily to be inflicted on the guilty, who belong, it issaid, to families with whom I once lived in habits of intercourse. Ishall be solicited by mothers, sisters, and disconsolate wives, and myheart will be broken through my inability to obtain all the mercy forwhich I would plead. 

"I know that the clemency of the First Consul is great; his attachmentto me extreme. But the crime is too dreadful that a terrible exampleshould not be necessary. The chief of the Government has not been aloneexposed. It is that which will render him severe, inflexible. I conjureyou, therefore, to do all in your power to prevent inquiries beingpushed too far. Do not detect all those persons who may have beenaccomplices in these odious transactions. Let not France, so longoverwhelmed in consternation by public executions, groan anew beneathsuch inflictions. It is even better to endeavor to soothe the publicmind than to exasperate men by fresh terrors. In short, when theringleaders of this nefarious attempt shall have been secured, letseverity give place to pity for inferior agents, seduced, as they mayhave been, by dangerous falsehoods or exaggerated opinions. 

"When just invested with supreme power, the First Consul, as seems tome, ought rather to gain hearts, than to be exhibited as ruling slaves. Soften by your counsels whatever may be too violent in his justresentment. Punish--alas! that you must certainly do--but pardon stillmore. Be also the support of those unfortunate men who, by frank avowalor repentance, shall expiate a portion of their crime. 

"Having myself narrowly escaped perishing in the Revolution, you mustregard as quite natural my interference on behalf of those who can besaved without involving in new danger the life of my husband, preciousto me and to France. On this account do, I entreat you, make a widedistinction between the authors of the crime and those who, throughweakness or fear, have consented to take part therein. As a woman, awife, a mother, I must feel the heart-rendings of those who will applyto me. Act, citizen minister, in such a manner that the number of thesemay be lessened. This will spare me much grief. Never will I turn awayfrom the supplications of misfortune. But in the present instance youcan do infinitely more than I, and you will, on this account, excuse myimportunity. Rely on my gratitude and esteem. "

There was a young officer about twenty-nine years of age, by the name ofMichel Duroc, who was then a frequent visitor at the Tuileries andMalmaison. He was a great favorite of Napoleon, and was distinguishedalike for beauty of person and gallantry upon the field of battle. Bornof an ancient family, young Duroc, having received a thorough militaryeducation, attached himself, with enthusiastic devotion, to the fortunesof Napoleon. He attracted the attention of General Bonaparte during hisfirst Italian campaign, where he was appointed one of his aides. Following Napoleon to Egypt, he gained renown in many battles, and wasspeedily promoted to the rank of chief of battalion, and then to generalof brigade. At Jaffa he performed a deed of gallantry, which wasrewarded by the applauding shouts of nearly the whole army. At Jeand'Acre he led one of the most bloody and obstinate assaults recorded inthe military annals of France, where he was severely wounded by thebursting of a howitzer. At the battle of Aboukir he won great applause. Napoleon's attachment to this young officer was such, that he took himto Paris on his return from Egypt. In the eventful day of the 18thBrumaire, Duroc stood by the side of Napoleon, and rendered him eminentservice. The subsequent career of this very noble young man brilliantlyreflects his worth and character. Rapidly rising, he became grandmarshal of the palace and Duke of Friuli. 

The memorable career of General Duroc was terminated at the battle ofBautzen, in Germany, on the 23d of May, 1813. He was struck by the lastball thrown from the batteries of the enemy. The affecting scene of hisdeath was as follows:

"In the early dawn of the morning of the 23d of May, Napoleon was onhorseback directing the movements of his troops against the routed foe. He soon overtook the rear-guard of the enemy, which had strongly postedits batteries on an eminence to protect the retreat of the discomfitedarmy. A brief but fierce conflict ensued, and one of Napoleon's aideswas struck dead at his feet. Duroc was riding by the side of theEmperor. Napoleon turned to him and said, 'Duroc, fortune is determinedto have one of us to-day. ' Hour after hour the incessant battle raged, as the advance-guard of the Emperor drove before it the rear-guard ofthe Allies. In the afternoon, as the Emperor, with a portion of theImperial Guard, four abreast, was passing through a ravine, enveloped ina blinding cloud of dust and smoke, a cannon-ball, glancing from a tree, killed one officer, and mortally wounded Duroc, tearing out hisentrails. The tumult and obscurity were such that Napoleon did notwitness the casualty. When informed of it, he seemed for a momentoverwhelmed with grief, and then exclaimed, in faltering accents, "Duroc! gracious Heaven, my presentiments never deceive me. This is asad day, a fatal day. "

Immediately alighting from his horse, he walked to and fro for a shorttime absorbed in painful thoughts, while the thunders of the battleresounded unheeded around him. Then turning to Caulaincourt, he said, "Alas! when will fate relent? When will there be an end of this? Myeagles will yet triumph, but the happiness which accompanies them isfled. Whither has he been conveyed? I must see him. Poor, poor Duroc!"

The Emperor found the dying marshal in a cottage, still stretched uponthe camp litter by which he had been conveyed from the field. Pallid asmarble from the loss of blood, and with features distorted with agony, he was scarcely recognizable. The Emperor approached the litter, threwhis arms around the neck of the friend he so tenderly loved, andexclaimed, in tones of deepest grief, "Alas! then is there no hope?"

"None whatever, " the physicians replied. 

The dying man took the hand of Napoleon, and gazing upon himaffectionately, said, "Sire, my whole life has been devoted to yourservice, and now my only regret is that I can no longer be useful toyou. " Napoleon, in a voice almost inarticulate with emotion, said, "Duroc, there is another life. There you will await me. "

"Yes, sire, " the marshal faintly replied, "but that will be thirty yearshence. You will then have triumphed over your enemies, and realized thehopes of our country. I have lived an honest man. I have nothing toreproach myself with. I have a daughter, to whom your Majesty will be afather. "

Napoleon was so deeply affected that he remained for some time insilence, incapable of uttering a word, but still affectionately holdingthe hand of his dying friend. 

Duroc was the first to break the silence. "Sire, " he said, "this sightpains you. Leave me. "

The Emperor pressed his hand to his lips, embraced him affectionately, and saying sadly, "Adieu, my friend, " hurried out of the room. 

Supported by Marshal Soult and Caulaincourt, Napoleon, overwhelmed withgrief, retired to his tent, which had been immediately pitched in thevicinity of the cottage. "This is horrible, " he exclaimed. "Myexcellent, my dear Duroc! Oh, what a loss is this!"

His eyes were flooded with tears, and for the moment, forgetting everything but his grief, he retired to the solitude of his inner tent. 

The squares of the Old Guard, sympathizing in the anguish of theircommander and their sovereign, silently encamped around him. Napoleonsat alone in his tent, wrapped in his gray great-coat, his foreheadresting upon his hand, absorbed in painful musings. For some time noneof his officers were willing to intrude upon his grief. At length two ofthe generals ventured to consult him respecting arrangements which itseemed necessary to make for the following day. Napoleon shook his headand replied, "Ask me nothing till to-morrow, " and again covering hiseyes with his hand, he resumed his attitude of meditation. Night came. One by one the stars came out. The moon rose brilliantly in thecloudless sky. The soldiers moved with noiseless footsteps, and spoke insubdued tones. The rumbling of wagons and the occasional boom of adistant gun alone disturbed the stillness of the scene. 

"Those brave soldiers, " says J. T. Headley, "filled with grief to seetheir beloved chief bowed down by such sorrows, stood for a long timesilent and tearful. At length, to break the mournful silence, and toexpress the sympathy they might not speak, the band struck up a requiemfor the dying marshal. The melancholy strains arose and fell inprolonged echoes over the field, and swept in softened cadences on theear of the fainting, dying warrior. But still Napoleon moved not. Theychanged the measure to a triumphant strain, and the thrilling trumpetsbreathed forth their most joyful notes till the heavens rang with themelody. Such bursts of music welcomed Napoleon as he returned, flushedwith victory, till his eye kindled with exultation. But now they fell ona dull and listless ear. It ceased, and again the mournful requiemfilled all the air. But nothing could rouse him from his agonizingreflections. His friend lay dying, and the heart that he loved more thanhis life was throbbing its last pulsations. What a theme for a painter, and what a eulogy was that scene! That noble heart, which the enmity ofthe world could not shake, nor the terrors of the battle-field move fromits calm repose, nor even the hatred nor the insults of his at lastvictorious enemies humble, here sank in the moment of victory before thetide of affection. What military chieftain ever mourned thus on thefield of victory, and what soldiers ever loved their leader so!"

Before the dawn of the morning Duroc expired. When the event wasannounced to Napoleon, he said sadly, "All is over. He is released fromhis misery. Well, he is happier than I. " The Emperor ordered a monumentto be reared to his memory, and, when afterwards dying at St. Helena, left to the daughter of Duroc one of the largest legacies bequeathed inhis will. That Duroc was worthy of this warm affection of the Emperor, may be inferred from the following testimony of Caulaincourt, Duke ofVicenza:

"Marshal Duroc was one of those men who seem too pure and perfect forthis world, and whose excellence helps to reconcile us to human nature. In the high station to which the Emperor had wisely raised him, thegrand marshal retained all the qualities of the private citizen. Thesplendor of his position had not power to dazzle or corrupt him. Durocremained simple, natural, and independent; a warm and generous friend, ajust and honorable man. I pronounce on him this eulogy without fear ofcontradiction. "

It is not strange that Hortense, a beautiful girl of eighteen, shouldhave fallen deeply in love with such a young soldier, twenty-nine yearsof age. It would seem that Duroc was equally inspired with love andadmiration for Hortense. Though perhaps not positively engaged, therewas such an understanding between the young lovers that a briskcorrespondence was kept up during one of Duroc's embassies to the north. 

[Illustration: THE LOVE-LETTER. ]

Bourrienne, at that time the private secretary of Napoleon, says thatthis correspondence was carried on by consent through his hands. Withthe rapidly rising greatness of the family, there was little retirementto be enjoyed at the Tuileries or at Malmaison. The saloons of the FirstConsul were every evening crowded with guests. Youthful love is the samepassion, and the young heart throbs with the same impulses, whether inthe palace or in the cottage. When Bourrienne whispered to Hortense thathe had a letter for her from Duroc, and slipped it unperceived into herhand, she would immediately retire to her room for its perusal; and themoistened eyes with which she returned to the saloon testified to theemotions with which the epistle from her lover had been read. 

But Josephine had the strongest reasons which can well be imagined foropposing the connection with Duroc. She was a very loving mother. Shewished to do every thing in her power to promote the happiness ofHortense, but she probably was not aware how deeply the affections ofher daughter were fixed upon Duroc. Her knowledge of the world alsotaught her that almost every young lady and every young gentleman haveseveral loves before reaching the one which is consummated by marriage. She had another match in view for Hortense which she deemed far moreeligible for her, and far more promotive of the happiness of the family. 

Napoleon had already attained grandeur unsurpassed by any of the ancientkings of France. Visions of still greater power were opening before him. It was not only to him a bitter disappointment but apparently it mightprove a great national calamity that he had no heir to whom he couldtransmit the sceptre which France had placed in his hands. Upon hisdownfall, civil war might ravage the kingdom, as rival chieftainsgrasped at the crown. It was earnestly urged upon him that the interestsof France imperiously demanded that, since he had no prospect of an heirby Josephine, he should obtain a divorce and marry another. It was urgedthat the welfare of thirty millions of people should not be sacrificedto the inclinations of two individuals. 

Josephine had heard these rumors, and her life was embittered by theirterrible import. A pall of gloom shrouded her sky, and anguish began tognaw at her heart amidst all the splendors of the Tuileries and thelovely retirement of Malmaison. 

Napoleon's younger brother, Louis, was of nearly the same age withHortense. He was a young man of fine personal appearance, veryintelligent, of scholarly tastes, and of irreproachable character. Though pensive in temperament, he had proved himself a hero on the fieldof battle, and he possessed, in all respects, a very noble character. Many of the letters which he had written from Egypt to his friends inParis had been intercepted by the British cruisers, and were published. They all bore the impress of the lofty spirit of integrity and humanitywith which he was inspired. Napoleon was very fond of his brother Louis. He would surely place him in the highest positions of wealth and power. As Louis Bonaparte was remarkably domestic in his tastes andaffectionate in his disposition, Josephine could not doubt that he wouldmake Hortense happy. Apparently it was a match full of promise, brilliant, and in all respects desirable. Its crowning excellence, however, in the eye of Josephine was, that should Hortense marry LouisBonaparte and give birth to a son, Napoleon would recognize that childas his heir. Bearing the name of Bonaparte, with the blood of theBonapartes in his veins, and being the child of Hortense, whom he sotenderly loved as a daughter, the desires of Napoleon and of Francemight be satisfied. Thus the terrible divorce might be averted. 

It is not probable that at this time Napoleon seriously thought of adivorce, though the air was filled with rumors put in circulation bythose who were endeavoring to crowd him to it. He loved Josephinetenderly, and of course could not sympathize with her in those fears ofwhich it was impossible for her to speak to him. Bourrienne testifiesthat Josephine one day said to him in confidence, veiling and at thesame time revealing her fears, "This projected marriage with Durocleaves me without support. Duroc, independent of Bonaparte's friendship, is nothing. He has neither fortune, rank, nor even reputation. He canafford me no protection against the enmity of the brothers. I must havesome more certain reliance for the future. My husband loves Louis verymuch. If I can succeed in uniting my daughter to him, he will prove astrong counterpoise to the calumnies and persecutions of mybrothers-in-law. "

These remarks were repeated to Napoleon. According to Bourrienne, hereplied, "Josephine labors in vain. Duroc and Hortense love each other, and theyshall be married. I am attached to Duroc. He is well born. I have givenCaroline to Murat, and Pauline to Le Clerc. I can as well give Hortenseto Duroc. He is as good as the others. He is general of division. Besides, I have other views for Louis. "

Josephine, however, soon won the assent of Napoleon to her views, and heregarded with great satisfaction the union of Hortense with Louis. Thecontemplated connection with Duroc was broken off. Two young hearts werethus crushed, with cruelty quite unintentional. Duroc was soon aftermarried to an heiress, who brought him a large fortune, and, it is said, a haughty spirit and an irritable temper, which embittered all his days. 

Hortense, disappointed, heart-broken, despairing, was weary of theworld. She probably never saw another happy day. Such is life. 

 "Sorrows are for the sons of men, And weeping for earth's daughters. "

CHAPTER IV. 

THE MARRIAGE OF HORTENSE. 

1804-1807

Stephanie Beauharnais. --Love of Louis Bonaparte forStephanie. --Objections to the marriage. --Unavailingremonstrances. --Marriage of Hortense. --Testimony of LouisBonaparte. --Statement of Napoleon. --Letter from Josephine toHortense. --The ball of Madame Montesson. --Birth of NapoleonCharles. --Hortense Queen of Holland. --Composition of the"Romances. "--Madame de Staël. --Anecdote of Napoleon Charles. --Letterfrom Josephine. --Campaigns of Jena and Friedland. --Anecdote. --Death ofNapoleon Charles. --Anguish of Hortense. --Letter ofcondolence. --Josephine to Hortense. --Napoleon to Hortense. --The need ofcharity. 

It will be remembered that Hortense had a cousin, Stephanie, thedaughter of her father's elder brother, Marquis de Beauharnais. ThoughViscount de Beauharnais had espoused the popular cause in the desperatestruggle of the French Revolution, the marquis was an undisguised"aristocrat. " Allying himself with the king and the court, he had fledfrom France with the emigrant nobles. He had joined the allied army asit was marching upon his native land in the endeavor to crush outpopular liberty and to reinstate the Bourbons on their throne ofdespotism. For this crime he was by the laws of France a traitor, doomedto the scaffold should he be captured. 

The marquis, in his flight from France, had left Stephanie with her auntJosephine. She had sent her to the school of Madame Campan in companywith Hortense and Caroline Bonaparte. Louis Bonaparte was consequentlyoften in the company of Stephanie, and fell desperately in love withher. The reader will recollect the letter which Josephine wrote toMadame Campan relative to Stephanie, which indicated that she had someserious defects of character. Still she was a brilliant girl, with greatpowers of pleasing when she condescended to use those powers. 

Louis Bonaparte was a very pensive, meditative young man, of poetictemperament, and of unsullied purity of character. With such personslove ever becomes an all-absorbing passion. It has been well said thatlove is represented as a little Cupid shooting tiny arrows, whereas itshould be presented as a giant shaking the world. The secrets of theheart are seldom revealed to others. Neither Napoleon nor Josephine wereprobably at all aware how intense and engrossing was the affection ofLouis for Stephanie. 

Regenerated France was then struggling, with all its concentratedenergies, against the combined aristocracies of Europe. Napoleon was theleader of the popular party. The father of Stephanie was in the counselsand the army of the Allies. Already advances had been made to Napoleon, and immense bribes offered to induce him, in treachery to the people, torestore to the exiled Bourbons the sceptre which the confiding peoplehad placed in his hands. Napoleon, like all men in power, had bitterenemies, who were ever watching for an opportunity to assail him. Shouldhis brother Louis marry a daughter of one of the old nobility, an avowedaristocrat, an emigrant, a pronounced "traitor, " doomed to death, shouldhe be captured, for waging war against his native land, it would exposeNapoleon to suspicion. His enemies would have new vantage-ground fromwhich to attack him, and in the most tender point. 

Under these circumstances Napoleon contemplated with well-foundedanxiety the idea of his brother's union with Stephanie. He was thereforethe more ready to listen to Josephine's suggestion of the marriage ofLouis and Hortense. This union in every respect seemed exceedinglydesirable. Napoleon could gratify their highest ambition in assigning tothem posts of opulence and honor. They could also be of great service toNapoleon in his majestic plan of redeeming all Europe from the yoke ofthe old feudal despotisms, and in conferring upon the peoples the newpolitical gospel of equal rights for all men. 

Napoleon had perceived this growing attachment just before he set out onthe expedition to Egypt. To check it, if possible, he sent Louis on avery important mission to Toulon, where he kept him intensely occupieduntil he was summoned to embark for Egypt. But such love as animated theheart of Louis is deepened, not diminished, by absence. A naval officer, who was a friend of Louis, and who was aware of his attachment forStephanie, remonstrated with him against a connection so injudicious. 

"Do you know, " said he, "that a marriage of this description might behighly injurious to your brother, and render him an object of suspicionto the Government, and that, too, at a moment when he is setting out ona hazardous expedition?"

But Louis was in no mood to listen to such suggestions. It would appearthat Stephanie was a young lady who could very easily transfer heraffections. During the absence of Louis a match was arranged betweenStephanie and the Duke of Baden. The heart of Louis was hopelesslycrushed. He never recovered from the blow. These were the two saddenedhearts, to whom the world was shrouded in gloom, which met amidst thesplendors of the Tuileries. 

The genius of Napoleon and the tact of Josephine were combined to unitein marriage the disappointed and despairing lovers, Louis and Hortense. After a brief struggle, they both sadly submitted to their fate. Themelancholy marriage scene is minutely described by Constant, one of theofficers in the household of Napoleon. The occasion was invested withall possible splendor. A brilliant assembly attended. But as Louis ledhis beautiful bride to the altar, the deepest dejection marked hiscountenance. Hortense buried her eyes in her handkerchief and weptbitterly. 

From that hour the alienation commenced. The grief-stricken bride, young, inexperienced, impulsive, made no attempt to conceal therepugnance with which she regarded the husband who had been forced uponher. On the other hand, Louis had too much pride to pursue with hisattentions a bride whom he had reluctantly received, and who openlymanifested her aversion to him. Josephine was very sad. Her maternalinstincts revealed to her the true state of the case. Conscious thatthe union, which had so inauspiciously commenced, had been brought aboutby her, she exerted all her powers to promote friendly relations betweenthe parties. But her counsels and her prayers were alike in vain. LouisBonaparte, in his melancholy autobiography, writes:

"Never was there a more gloomy wedding. Never had husband and wife astronger presentiment of a forced and ill-suited marriage. Before theceremony, during the benediction, and ever afterwards, we both andequally felt that we were not suited to each other. "

"I have seen, " writes Constant, "a hundred times Madame Louis Bonaparteseek the solitude of her apartment and the bosom of a friend, there toshed her tears. She would often escape from her husband in the midst ofthe saloon of the First Consul, where one saw with chagrin this youngwoman, formerly glittering in beauty, and who gracefully performed thehonors of the palace, retire into a corner or into the embrasure of awindow, with some one of her intimate friends, sadly to confide hergriefs. During this interview, from which she would return with her eyesher husband would remain pensive and silent at the end of the saloon. "

Napoleon at St. Helena, referring to this painful subject, said: "Louishad been spoiled by reading the works of Rousseau. He contrived to agreewith his wife only for a few months. There were faults on both sides. Onthe one hand, Louis was too teasing in his temper, and, on the other, Hortense was too volatile. Hortense, the devoted, the generous Hortense, was not entirely faultless in her conduct towards her husband. This Imust acknowledge, in spite of all the affection I bore her, and thesincere attachment which I am sure she entertained for me. ThoughLouis's whimsical humors were in all probability sufficiently teasing, yet he loved Hortense. In such a case a woman should learn to subdue herown temper, and endeavor to return her husband's attachment. Had sheacted in the way most conducive to her interest, she might have avoidedher late lawsuit, secured happiness to herself and followed her husbandto Holland. Louis would not then have fled from Amsterdam, and I shouldnot have been compelled to unite his kingdom to mine--a measure whichcontributed to ruin my credit in Europe. Many other events might alsohave taken a different turn. Perhaps an excuse might be found for thecaprice of Louis's disposition in the deplorable state of his health. "

The following admirable letter from Josephine to Hortense throwsadditional light upon this unhappy union:

"I was deeply grieved at what I heard a few days ago. What I sawyesterday confirms and increases my distress. Why show this repugnanceto Louis? Instead of rendering it the more annoying, by caprice andinequality of temper, why not endeavor to surmount it? You say he is notamiable. Every thing is relative. If he is not so to you, he may be toothers, and all women do not see him through the veil of dislike. As formyself, who am here altogether disinterested, I imagine that I beholdhim as he is--more loving, doubtless, than lovable. But this is a greatand rare quality. He is generous, beneficent, affectionate. He is a goodfather, and if you so will, he would prove a good husband. Hismelancholy, and his taste for study and retirement, render himdisagreeable to you. But let me ask you, is this his fault? Do youexpect him to change his nature according to circumstances? Who couldhave foreseen his altered fortune? But, according to you, he has noteven the courage to bear that fortune. This, I think, is a mistake. Withhis secluded habits, and his invincible love of retirement and study, heis out of place in the elevated rank to which he has been raised. 

"You wish that he resembled his brother. But he must first have hisbrother's temperament. You have not failed to remark that almost ourentire existence depends upon our health, and health upon digestion. Ifpoor Louis's digestion were better, you would find him much moreamiable. But as he is, there is nothing to justify the indifference anddislike you evince towards him. You, Hortense, who used to be so good, should continue so now, when it is most requisite. Take pity on a manwho is to be pitied for what would constitute the happiness of another. Before you condemn him, think of others who, like him, have groanedbeneath the burden of their greatness, and bathed with tears theirdiadem, which they believed had never been destined for their brow. WhenI advise you to love, or at least not to repulse Louis, I speak to youas an experienced wife, a fond mother, and a friend; and in these threecharacters, which are all equally dear to me, I tenderly embrace you. "

Madame Montesson gave the first ball that took place in honor of themarriage of Louis Bonaparte and Hortense. Invitations were issued forseven hundred persons. Though there was no imperial court at that time, for Napoleon was but First Consul, yet every thing was arranged on ascale of regal splendor. The foreign ambassadors were all present; andthe achievements of Napoleon had been so marvellous, and his increasinggrandeur was so sure, that all present vied alike in evincing homage tothe whole Bonaparte family. A lady who was a guest on the occasionwrites:

"Every countenance beamed with joy save that of the bride, whoseprofound melancholy formed a sad contrast to the happiness which shemight have been expected to evince. She was covered with diamonds andflowers, and yet her countenance and manner showed nothing but regret. It was easy to foresee the mutual misery that would arise out of thisill-assorted union. Louis Bonaparte showed but little attention to hisbride. Hortense, on her part, seemed to shun his very looks, lest heshould read in hers the indifference she felt towards him. Thisindifference daily augmented in spite of the affectionate advice ofJosephine, who earnestly desired to see Hortense in the possession ofthat happiness and peace of mind to which she was herself a stranger. But all her endeavors were unavailing. "

The first child the fruit of this marriage was born in 1803, andreceived the name of Napoleon Charles. Both Napoleon and Josephine wererendered very happy by his birth. He was an exceedingly beautiful andpromising child, and they hoped that parental endearments, lavished uponthe same object, would unite father and mother more closely. Napoleonloved the child tenderly, was ever fond of caressing him, and distinctlyannounced his intention of making him his heir. All thoughts of thedivorce were banished, and a few gleams of tremulous joy visited theheart of Josephine. But alas! these joys proved of but short duration. It was soon manifest to her anxious view that there was no hope of anycordial reconciliation between Louis and Hortense. And nothing couldsoothe the sorrow of Josephine's heart when she saw her daughter'shappiness apparently blighted forever. 

Napoleon, conscious that he had been an instrument in the bitterdisappointments of Hortense and Louis, did every thing in his power torequite them for the wrong. Upon attaining the imperial dignity, heappointed his brother Louis constable of France, and soon after, in1805, governor-general of Piedmont. In 1806, Schimmelpennink, grandpensionary of Batavia, resigning his office as chief magistrate of theUnited Netherlands, Napoleon raised Louis to the dignity of King ofHolland. 

On the 18th of June, 1806, Louis and Hortense arrived in their newdominions. The exalted station to which Hortense was thus elevated didnot compensate her for the sadness of separation from her belovedmother, with whom she had been so intimately associated during her wholelife. The royal pair took up their residence at the Maison de Bois, arural palace about three miles from the Hague. Here they received thevarious deputations, and thence made their public entrée into thecapital in the midst of a scene of universal rejoicing. The pensive airof the queen did but add to the interest which she invariably excited. For a time she endeavored to drown her griefs in yielding herself to thefestivities of the hour. Her fine figure, noble mien, and gracefulmanners fascinated all eyes and won all hearts. Her complexion was ofdazzling purity, her eyes of a soft blue, and a profusion of fair hairhung gracefully upon her shoulders. Her conversation was extremelylively and vivacious, having on every occasion just the right word tosay. Her dancing was said to be the perfection of grace. With suchaccomplishments for her station, naturally fond of society and gayety, and with a disposition to recompense herself, for her heart'sdisappointment, in the love of her new subjects, she secured in a veryhigh degree the admiration of the Hollanders. 

It was at this time that Hortense composed that beautiful collection ofairs called _romances_ which has given her position among the ablest ofmusical composers. "The saloons of Paris, " says a French writer, "thesolitude of exile, the most remote countries, have all acknowledged thecharm of these most delightful melodies, which need no royal name toenhance their reputation. It is gratifying to our pride of country tohear the airs of France sung by the Greek and by the Russian, and unitedto national poetry on the banks of the Thames and the Tagus. The homagethus rendered is the more flattering because the rank of the composer isunknown. It is their intrinsic merit which gives to these naturaleffusions of female sensibility the power of universal success. IfHortense ever experienced matrimonial felicity, it must have been atthis time. "

When Madame de Staël was living in exile in the old Castle ofChaumont-sur-Loire, where she was joined by her beautiful friend MadameRécamier, one of their favorite songs was that exquisite air composed byQueen Hortense upon her husband's motto, "Do what is right, come whatmay. "

The little son of Hortense was twining himself closely around hismother's heart. He had become her idol. Napoleon was then in the zenithof his power, and it was understood that Napoleon Charles was to inheritthe imperial sceptre. The warmth of his heart and his daily intellectualdevelopment indicated that he would prove worthy of the station which hewas destined to fill. 

Shortly after the queen's arrival at the Hague, she received a NewYear's present from Josephine for the young Napoleon Charles. Itconsisted of a large chest filled with the choicest playthings whichParis could present. The little boy was seated near a window whichopened upon the park. As his mother took one after another of theplaythings from the chest to exhibit to him, she was surprised anddisappointed to find that he regarded them with so much indifference. His attention seemed to be very much occupied in looking out into thepark. Hortense said to him, "My son, are you not grateful to yourgrandmamma for sending you so many beautiful presents?"

"Indeed I am, mamma, " he replied. "But it does not surprise me, forgrandmamma is always so good that I am used to it. "

"Then you are not amused with all these pretty playthings, my son?"

"Oh yes, mamma, but--but then I want something else. "

"What is it, my darling? You know how much I love you. You may be surethat I will give it to you. "

"No, mamma, I am afraid you won't. I want you to let me run aboutbarefooted in that puddle in the avenue. "

His mother of course could not grant this request, and the little fellowmourned very justly over the misfortune of being a prince, whichprevented him from enjoying himself like other boys in playing in themud. 

Hortense, absorbed in her new cares, wrote almost daily to her mother, giving interesting recitals of the child. She did not, however, write asfrequently to her father. Josephine wrote to her from Aix-la-Chapelle, under date of September 8th, 1804:

"The news which you give me of Napoleon affords me great pleasure, mydear Hortense; for in addition to the very tender interest I feel forhim, I appreciate all the anxieties from which you are relieved; and youknow, my dear child, that your happiness will ever constitute a part ofmine. The Emperor has read your letter. He has at times appeared to mewounded, in not hearing from you. He would not accuse your heart if heknew you as well as I do. But appearances are against you. Since he maysuppose that you neglect him, do not lose a moment to repair the wrongswhich are not intentional. Say to him that it is through discretionthat you have not written to him; that your heart suffers from that lawwhich even respect dictates; that having always manifested towards youthe goodness and tenderness of a father, it will ever be your happinessto offer to him the homage of gratitude. 

"Speak to him also of the hope you cherish of seeing me at the period ofyour confinement. I can not endure the thought of being absent from youat that time. Be sure, my Hortense, that nothing can prevent me fromgoing to take care of you for your sake, and still more for my own. Doyou speak of this also to Bonaparte, who loves you as if you were hisown child. And this greatly increases my attachment for him. Adieu, mygood Hortense. I embrace you with the warmest affections of my heart. "

Soon after this Hortense gave birth to her second child, Napoleon Louis. The health of the mother not long after the birth of the child renderedit necessary for her to visit the waters of St. Armand. It seems thatlittle Napoleon Louis was placed under the care of a nurse whereJosephine could often see him. The Empress wrote to Hortense from St. Cloud on the 20th of July, 1805:

"My health requires that I should repose a little from the fatigues ofthe long journey which I have just made, and particularly from the griefwhich I have experienced in separating myself from Eugene in Italy. Ireceived yesterday a letter from him. He is very well, and works hard. He greatly regrets being separated from his mother and his belovedsister. Alas! there are unquestionably many people who envy his lot, andwho think him very happy. Such persons do not read his heart. In writingto you, my dear Hortense, I would only speak to you of my tenderness foryou, and inform you how happy I have been to have your son NapoleonLouis with me since my return. 

"The Emperor, without speaking to me about it, sent to him immediatelyon our arrival at Fontainebleau. I was much touched by this attention onhis part. He had perceived that I had need of seeing a second_yourself_; a little charming being created by thee. The child is verywell. He is very happy. He eats only the soup which his nurse gives him. He never comes in when we are at the table. The Emperor caresses himvery much. Eugene has given me, for you, a necklace of malachite, engraved in relief. M. Bergheim will hand you one which I purchased atMilan. It is composed of engraved amethysts, which will be very becomingupon your beautiful white skin. Give my most affectionate remembrance toyour husband. Embrace for me Napoleon Charles, and rely, my deardaughter, upon the tenderness of your mother, "JOSEPHINE. "

[Illustration: THE LITTLE PRINCE CHARLES NAPOLEON. ]

At midnight, on the 24th of September, 1806, Napoleon left Paris torepel a new coalition of his foes in the campaigns of Jena, Auerstadt, Eylau, and Friedland. Josephine accompanied her husband as far asMayence, where she remained, that she might more easily receive tidingsfrom him. Just before leaving Paris, Napoleon reviewed the ImperialGuard in the court-yard of the Tuileries. After the review he enteredthe saloon of Josephine. Throwing down his hat and sword upon the sofa, he took the arm of the Empress, and they together walked up and down theroom, earnestly engaged in conversation. Little Napoleon Charles, whowas on a visit to his grandmother, picked up the Emperor's cocked hat, placed it upon his head, and putting the sword-belt over his neck, with the dangling sword, began strutting behind the Emperor with a verymilitary tread, attempting to whistle a martial air. Napoleon, turningaround, saw the child, and catching him up in his arms, hugged andkissed him, saying to Josephine, "What a charming picture!" Josephineimmediately ordered a portrait to be taken by the celebrated painterGerard of the young prince in that costume. She intended to send it apresent to the Emperor as a surprise. 

The Empress remained for some time at Mayence and its environs, dailywriting to the Emperor, and almost daily, sometimes twice a day, receiving letters from him. These notes were very brief, but always borethe impress of ardent affection. 

On the 13th of January, 1806, Eugene was very happily married to thePrincess Augusta Amélie, daughter of the Elector of Bavaria. WhenJosephine heard of the contemplated connection, she wrote to Hortense:

"You know very well that the Emperor would not marry Eugene without myknowledge. Still I accept the public rumor. I should love very much tohave her for a daughter-in-law. She is a charming character, andbeautiful as an angel. She unites to an elegant figure the most gracefulcarriage I have ever known. "

A few days after, on the 9th of January, she wrote from Munich: "I amnot willing to lose a moment, my dear Hortense, in informing you thatthe marriage of Eugene with the daughter of the Elector of Bavaria isjust definitely arranged. You will appreciate, as I do, all the value ofthis new proof of the attachment which the Emperor manifests for yourbrother. Nothing in the world could be more agreeable to me than thisalliance. The young princess unites to a charming figure all thequalities which can render a woman interesting and lovely. The marriageis not to be celebrated here, but in Paris. Thus you will be able towitness the happiness of your brother, and mine will be perfect, since Ishall find myself united to both of my dear children. "

The arrangements were changed subsequently, and the nuptials weresolemnized in Munich. Napoleon wrote as follows to Hortense:

 "Munich, January 9th, 1806. 

"MY DAUGHTER, --Eugene arrives to-morrow, and is to be married in fourdays. I should have been very happy if you could have attended hismarriage, but there is no longer time. The Princess Augusta is tall, beautiful, and full of good qualities, and you will have, in allrespects, a sister worthy of you. A thousand kisses to M. Napoleon. 

 "NAPOLEON. "

The Empress, after remaining some time at Mayence, as the campaign onthe banks of the Vistula was protracted, returned to Paris. In a stateof great anxiety with regard to her husband, she took up her residenceat St. Cloud. Under date of March, 1807, she wrote to her daughter, thenqueen of Holland, residing at the Hague:

"I have received much pleasure in speaking of you with M. Jansens. Iperceive, from what he tells me respecting Holland, that the king isvery much beloved, and that you share in the general affection. Thisrenders me happy. My health is very good at the present moment, but myheart is always sad. 

"All the private letters which I have seen agree in the declaration thatthe Emperor exposed himself very much at the battle of Eylau. Ifrequently receive tidings from him, and sometimes two letters a day. This is a great consolation, but it does not replace him. "

That Napoleon, in the midst of the ten thousand cares of so arduous acampaign, could have found time to write daily to Josephine, and oftentwice a day, is surely extraordinary. There are not many husbands, it isto be feared, who are so thoughtful of the anxieties of an absent wife. 

Early in May the Empress received the portrait, of which we have spoken, of her idolized grandchild, Napoleon Charles, in his amusing militarycostume. She was intending to send it as a pleasing memorial to theEmperor in his distant encampment. 

Just then she received the dreadful tidings that little Napoleon Charleshad been taken sick with the croup, and, after the illness of but a fewhours, had died. It was the 5th of May, 1807. Josephine was in Paris;Hortense at the Hague, in Holland; Napoleon was hundreds of leaguesdistant in the north, with his army almost buried in snow upon the banksof the Vistula. 

The world perhaps has never witnessed the death of a child which hascaused so much anguish. Hortense did not leave her son for a moment, asthe terrible disease advanced to its termination. When he breathed hislast she seemed completely stunned. Not a tear dimmed her eye. Not aword, not a moan was uttered. Like a marble statue, she sat upon thesofa where the child had died, gazing around her with a look of wild, amazed, delirious agony. With much difficulty she was taken from theroom, being removed on the sofa upon which she reclined. Her anguish wasso great that for some time it was feared that reason was dethroned, andthat the blow would prove fatal. Her limbs were rigid, and her dry andglassy eye was riveted upon vacancy. At length, in the endeavor to bringher out from this dreadful state, the lifeless body of the child, dressed for the grave, was brought in and placed in the lap of itsmother. The pent-up anguish of Hortense now found momentary relief in aflood of tears, and in loud and uncontrollable sobbings. 

The anguish of Josephine surpassed, if possible, even that of Hortense. The Empress knew that Napoleon had selected this child as his heir; thatconsequently the terrible divorce was no longer to be thought of. Inaddition to the loss of one she so tenderly loved, rose the fear thathis death would prove to her the greatest of earthly calamities. Forthree days she could not leave her apartment, and did nothing but weep. 

The sad intelligence were conveyed to Napoleon in his cheerlessencampment upon the Vistula. As he received the tidings he uttered not aword. Sitting down in silence, he buried his face in his hand, and for along time seemed lost in painful musings. No one ventured to disturb hisgrief with attempted consolation. 

As soon as Josephine was able to move, she left Paris to visit herbereaved, heart-broken daughter. But her strength failed her by the way, and when she reached Luchen, a palace near Brussels, she was able toproceed no farther. She wrote as follows to Hortense:

 "Luchen, May 14th, 1807--10 o'clock P. M. 

"I have arrived this moment at the chateau of Luchen, my dear daughter. It is there I write to you, and there I await you. Come to restore me tolife. Your presence is necessary to me, and you must also feel the needof seeing me, that you may weep with your mother. I earnestly wish toproceed farther, but my strength has failed me, and moreover I have nothad time to apprise the Emperor. I have found strength to come thus far. I hope you also will find strength to come and see your mother. "

Hortense immediately repaired to Luchen to seek a mother's sympathy. With Josephine she returned to Paris, and soon after, by the entreatiesof her physician, continued her journey to take the waters of a mineralspring in the south of France, seeking a change of climate and of scene. Josephine remained in the depths of sorrow at St. Cloud. On the same dayin which Josephine arrived at Luchen, the Emperor wrote to her from theVistula as follows:

 "Finckenstein, May 14th, 1807. 

"I can appreciate the grief which the death of poor Napoleon has caused. You can understand the anguish which I experience. I could wish that Iwere with you, that you might become moderate and discreet in yourgrief. You have had the happiness of never losing any children. But itis one of the conditions and sorrows attached to suffering humanity. Letme hear that you have become reasonable and tranquil. Would you magnifymy anguish?"

Two days after Napoleon wrote the Empress:

"I have received your letter of the sixth of May. I see in it alreadythe injury which you are suffering, and I fear that you are notreasonable, and that you afflict yourself too much from the calamitywhich has befallen us. 

"Adieu my love. Entirely thine, "NAPOLEON. "

Again, after the lapse of four days, he wrote:

"I have received your letter of the tenth of May. I see that you havegone to Luchen. I think that you may rest there a fortnight. That willgive much pleasure to the Belgians, and will serve to divert your mind. I see with pain that you are not wise. Grief has bounds which it shouldnot pass. Preserve yourself for your friend, and believe in all myaffection. "

On the same day the Emperor wrote as follows to Hortense:

 "Finckenstein, May 20th, 1807. 

"MY DAUGHTER, --Every thing which reaches me from the Hague informs methat you are unreasonable. However legitimate may be your grief, itshould have its bounds. Do not impair your health. Seek consolation. Know that life is strewn with so many dangers, and may be the source ofso many calamities, that death is by no means the greatest of evils. 

"Your affectionate father, "NAPOLEON. "

It is to be borne in mind that these brief epistles were written fromthe midst of one of the most arduous of campaigns. Four days after this, on the 24th, Napoleon wrote to Josephine:

"I have received your letter from Luchen. I see with pain that yourgrief is still unabated, and that Hortense has not yet arrived. She isunreasonable, and does not merit that one should love her, since sheloves only her children. Strive to calm yourself, and give me no morepain. For every irremediable evil we should find consolation. Adieu, mylove. 

"Wholly thine, "NAPOLEON. "

After two days again the Emperor wrote to Josephine:

"I have received your letter of the 16th, and see with pleasure thatHortense has arrived at Luchen. I am indeed grieved by what you tell meof the state of stupor in which she still continues. She should havemore fortitude, and should govern herself. I can not conceive why theyshould wish her to go to the springs. Her attention would be much morediverted at Paris, and she would find there more consolation. Controlyourself. Be cheerful, and take care of your health. Adieu, my love. Ishare deeply in all your griefs. It is painful to me that I am not withyou. 

 "NAPOLEON. "

It will be remembered that Hortense had another child, then but aninfant, by the name of Napoleon Louis. This child subsequently married adaughter of Joseph Bonaparte, and died in a campaign in Italy, as heespoused the popular cause in the endeavor to throw off the yoke ofAustria. The third and only surviving child, Louis Napoleon, now Emperorof the French, was not then born. 

We have previously alluded in this history to a niece of Madame Campanby the name of Adèle Auguié, who was the intimate friend and companionof Hortense in her school-days. School-girl attachments, though oftenvery ardent, are not generally very lasting. This one, however, provedof life-long duration. Adèle became Madame de Broc. There is an allusionto her in the following letter. We shall hereafter have occasion torefer to her in describing the disaster which terminated her life. Itwas the latter part of May when Hortense left her mother to journey tothe south of France. Soon after her departure Josephine wrote to her asfollows:

 "St. Cloud, May 27th, 1807. 

"I have wept much since your departure, my dear Hortense. Thisseparation has been very painful to me. Nothing can give me courage tosupport it but the certainty that the journey will do you good. I havereceived tidings from you, through Madame Broc. I pray you to thank herfor that attention, and to request her to write to me when you may beunable to write yourself. I had also news from your son. He is at thechateau of Luchen, very well, and awaiting the arrival of the king. Heshares very keenly in our griefs. I have need of this consolation, for Ihave had none other since your departure. Always alone by myself, everymoment dwelling upon the subject of our affliction, my tears flowincessantly. Adieu, my beloved child. Preserve yourself for a motherwho loves you tenderly. "

Soon after this Josephine went for a short time to Malmaison. On the 2dof June Napoleon wrote to her from that place the following letter, inclosing also one for Hortense. 

"MY LOVE, --I have learned of your arrival at Malmaison. I am displeasedwith Hortense. She does not write me a word. Every thing which you sayto me of her gives me pain. Why is it that you have not been able alittle to console her? You weep. I hope that you will control yourfeelings, that I may not find you overwhelmed with sadness. I have beenat Dantzic for two days. The weather is very fine, and I am well. Ithink more of you than you can think of one who is absent. Adieu mylove. My most affectionate remembrance. Send the inclosed letter toHortense. "

The letter to Hortense to which Napoleon refers, was as follows:

 "Dantzic, June 2d, 1807. 

"MY DAUGHTER, --You have not written me a word in your well-founded andgreat affliction. You have forgotten every thing as if you had no otherloss to endure. I am informed that you no longer love; that you areindifferent to every thing. I perceive it by your silence. This is notright, Hortense. It is not what you promised me. Your child was everything to you. Had I been at Malmaison, I should have shared youranguish. But I should also have wished that you would restore yourselfto your best friends. Adieu, my daughter. Be cheerful. We must learnresignation. Cherish your health, that you may be able to fulfill allyour duties. My wife is very sad in view of your condition. Do not addto her anguish. "

The next day, June 3d, the Emperor wrote to Josephine:

"All the letters which come to me from St. Cloud say that you weepcontinually. This is not right. It is necessary to control one's selfand to be contented. Hortense is entirely wrong. What you write me abouther is pitiful. Adieu, my love. Believe in the affection with which Icherish you. "

The next day Josephine wrote from the palace of St. Cloud to Hortense, who was then at the waters of Cauterets:

"Your letter has greatly consoled me, my dear Hortense, and the tidingsof your health, which I have received from your ladies, contribute verymuch to render me more tranquil. The Emperor has been deeply affected. In all his letters he seeks to give me fortitude, but I know that thissevere affliction has been keenly felt by him. 

"The king[C] arrived yesterday at St. Leu. He has sent me word that hewill come to see me to-day. He will leave the little one with me duringhis absence. You know how dearly I love that child, and the solicitude Ifeel for him. I hope that the king will follow the same route which youhave taken. It will be, my dear Hortense, a consolation to you both tosee each other again. All the letters which I have received from himsince his departure are full of his attachment for you. Your heart istoo affectionate not to be touched by this. Adieu, my dear child. Takecare of your health. Mine can never be established till I shall nolonger suffer for those whom I love. I embrace you tenderly. 

 "JOSEPHINE. "

[Footnote C: The husband of Hortense, King of Holland. He was then verysick, suffering from an attack of paralysis. St. Leu was a beautifulestate he owned in France. He had with him his second and then onlyliving child, Napoleon Louis. Leaving him with his grandmother, herepaired to Cauterets, where he joined Hortense, his wife. ]

Two days after this, on the 6th, the Emperor wrote the Empress:

"I am very well, my love. Your letter of yesterday gave me much pain. Itappears that you are continually sad, and that you are not reasonable. The weather is very bad. Adieu, my love. I love you and desire to hearthat you are cheerful and contented. "

On the 11th of June, Josephine again wrote to Hortense:

"Your son is remarkably well. He amuses me much; he is so pleasant. Ifind he has all the endearing manners of the poor child over whose losswe weep. "

Again she wrote, probably the next day, in answer to a letter fromHortense:

"Your letter has affected me deeply, my dear daughter. I see howprofound and unvarying is your grief. And I perceive it still moresensibly by the anguish which I experience myself. We have lost thatwhich in every respect was the most worthy to be loved. My tears flow ason the first day. Our grief is too well-founded for reason to be able tocause it to cease. Nevertheless, my dear Hortense, it should moderateit. You are not alone in the world. There still remains to you ahusband and a mother, whose tender love you well know, and you have toomuch sensibility to regard all that with coldness and indifference. Think of us; and let that memory calm another well grounded andgrievous. I rely upon your attachment for me and upon the strength ofyour mind. I hope also that the journey and the waters will do you good. Your son is remarkably well. He is a charming child. My health is alittle better, but you know that it depends upon yours. Adieu. I embraceyou. 

 "JOSEPHINE. "

On the 16th of June, Napoleon again wrote to Hortense from his distantencampment:

"MY DAUGHTER, --I have received your letter dated Orleans. Your griefstouch my heart, but I could wish that you would summon more fortitude. To live is to suffer, and the sincere man suffers incessantly to retainthe mastery over himself. I do not love to see you unjust towards thelittle Napoleon Louis, and towards all your friends. Your mother and Ihad cherished the hope of being more than we are in your heart I havegained a great victory on the 14th of June. [D] I am well and love youvery much. Adieu, my daughter. I embrace you with my whole heart. "

[Footnote D: Victory of Friedland. ]

The above extracts from the private correspondence of Napoleon andJosephine reveal, more clearly than any thing else could possibly do, the anguish with which Hortense was oppressed. They also exhibit, in avery interesting light, the affectionate relationship which existedbetween the members of the Imperial family. The authenticity of theletters is beyond all possible question. How much more charitable shouldwe be could we but fully understand the struggles and the anguish towhich all human hearts are exposed. 

CHAPTER V. 

BIRTH OF LOUIS NAPOLEON AND THE DIVORCE OF JOSEPHINE. 

1808-1809

Birth of Louis Napoleon. --Letter from Josephine. --Public announcement ofthe birth. --Napoleon's attachment to his nephews. --Letter fromNapoleon. --Josephine to Hortense. --Remarks of the Duke ofRovigo. --Testimony of Cambaceres. --The dreadful announcement. --Anguishof the Imperial family. --Noble conduct of Eugene. --The divorce. --Thescene of the divorce. --The legal consummation. --Josephine, Eugene, Hortense. --Affecting interview. --Grief of Napoleon. --Testimony of BaronMeneval. --Letter from Napoleon to Josephine. --The retirement ofJosephine. --Josephine at Malmaison. --Interview between Napoleon andJosephine. --Napoleon's remarks on his divorce. --Sin of the divorce. 

The latter part of July, 1807, Hortense, in the state of anguish whichthe preceding chapter develops, was, with her husband, at the waters ofCauterets, in the south of France. They were united by the ties of amutual grief. Napoleon was more than a thousand miles away in the northof Europe. In considerably less than a year from that date, on the 20thof April, 1808, Hortense gave birth, in Paris to her third child, LouisNapoleon, now Napoleon III. , Emperor of the French. Josephine was thenat Bordeaux, and wrote as follows to Hortense:

 "Bordeaux, April 23d, 1808. 

"I am, my dear Hortense, in an excess of joy. The tidings of your happyaccouchement were brought to me yesterday by M. De Villeneuve. I felt myheart beat the moment I saw him enter. But I cherished the hope that hehad only good tidings to bring me, and my presentiments did not deceiveme. I have received a second letter, which assures me that you are verywell, and also your son. I know that Napoleon will console himself innot having a sister, and that he already loves very much his brother. Embrace them both for me. But I must not write you too long a letterfrom fear of fatiguing you. Take care of yourself with the utmostcaution. Do not receive too much company at present. Let me hear fromyou every day. I await tidings from you with as much impatience as Ilove you with tenderness. 

 "JOSEPHINE. "

The birth of this prince, Louis Napoleon, whose renown as Napoleon III. Now fills the world, and respecting whose character and achievementsthere is so wonderful a diversity of sentiment among intelligent men, took place in Paris. Napoleon was at that time upon the highest pinnacleof prosperity. The Allies, vanquished in every conflict, seemed disposedto give up the attempt to reinstate the Bourbons upon the throne ofFrance. The birth of Louis Napoleon, as a prince of the Empire, in thedirect line of hereditary descent, was welcomed by the guns of theInvalides, and by military salutes all along the lines of the Imperialarmy, from Hamburg to Rome, and from the Pyrenees to the Danube. Theimportant event was thus announced in the Moniteur of April 21st:

"Yesterday, at one o'clock, her Majesty the Queen of Holland was safelydelivered of a prince. In conformity with Article 40, of the Act of theConstitution of 28 Floreal, year 12, the Chancellor of the Empireattested the birth, and wrote immediately to the Emperor, the Empress, and the King of Holland, to communicate the intelligence. At fiveo'clock in the evening, the act of birth was received by the archchancellor, assisted by his eminence, Reynault de St. Jean d'Angely, minister of state and state secretary of the Imperial family. In theabsence of the Emperor, the new-born prince has not yet received hisname. This will be provided for by an ulterior act, according to theorders of his Majesty. "

By a decree of the Senate, these two children of Louis Bonaparte andHortense were declared heirs to the Imperial throne, should Napoleon andhis elder brother Joseph die without children. This decree of theSenate was submitted to the acceptation of the French people. Withwonderful unanimity it was adopted. There were 3, 521, 675 votes in theaffirmative, and but 2599 in the negative. 

Napoleon ever manifested the deepest interest in these two children. Atthe time of the birth of Louis Napoleon he was at Bayonne, arrangingwith the Spanish princes for the transfer of the crown of Spain toJoseph Bonaparte. Josephine was at Bordeaux. From this interview hepassed, in his meteoric flight, to the Congress of Kings at Erfurt, buta few miles from the battle-field of Jena. It was here that thecelebrated historian Müller met the Emperor and gave the followingtestimony as to the impression which his presence produced upon hismind:

"Quite impartially and truly, as before God, I must say, that thevariety of his knowledge, the acuteness of his observation, the solidityof his understanding, filled me with astonishment. His manner ofspeaking to me inspired me with love for him. It was one of the mostremarkable days of my life. By his genius and his disinterested goodnesshe has conquered me also. "

Hortense, with a saddened spirit, now lived in great seclusion, devotingherself almost exclusively to the education of her two sons, NapoleonLouis and Louis Napoleon. Her bodily health was feeble, and she was mostof the time deeply dejected. In May, 1809, Hortense, without consultingthe Emperor, who was absent in Germany, took the two princes with her tothe baths of Baden, where they were exposed to the danger of beingseized and held as hostages by the Austrians. The solicitude of theEmperor for them may be seen in the following letter:

 "Ebersdorf, May 28th, 1809. 

"MY DAUGHTER, --I am very much displeased, (_très mécontent_) that youshould have left France without my permission, and particularly that youshould have taken my nephews from France. Since you are at the waters ofBaden, remain there. But in one hour after the reception of this letter, send my two nephews to Strasbourg, near to the Empress. They ought neverto leave France. It is the first time that I have had occasion to bedissatisfied with you. But you ought not to dispose of my nephewswithout my permission. You ought to perceive the mischievous effectswhich that may produce. 

"Since the waters of Baden are beneficial to you, you can remain theresome days. But I repeat to you, do not delay for a moment sending mynephews to Strasbourg. Should the Empress go to the waters of Plombièresthey can accompany her there. But they ought never to cross the bridgeof Strasbourg. Your affectionate father, "NAPOLEON. "

This letter was sent to Josephine to be transmitted by her to Hortense. She received it on the first of June, and immediately sent it to herdaughter, with a letter which implies that Hortense had alreadyanticipated the wishes of Napoleon, and had sent the princes, after abrief visit, to Josephine at Strasbourg. Soon after this it would seemthat little Louis Napoleon, who was evidently the favorite of hisgrandmother, perhaps because he was more with her, accompanied Josephineto St Cloud. About a fortnight after this she wrote to Hortense fromthat palace:

"I am happy to have your son with me. He is charming. I am attached tohim more and more, in thinking he will be a solace to you. His littlereasons amuse me much. He grows every day, and his complexion is veryfine. I am far from you, but I frequently embrace your son, and love toimagine to myself that it is my dear daughter whom I embrace. "

And now we approach that almost saddest of earth's tragedies, thedivorce of Josephine--the great wrong and calamity of Napoleon's life. The event had so important a bearing upon the character and the destinyof Hortense as to demand a brief recital here. 

It is often difficult to judge of the _motives_ of human actions; but attimes circumstances are such that it is almost impossible to misjudgethe causes which lead to conduct. General Savary, Duke of Rovigo, theintimate personal friend of the Emperor, and one better acquainted withhis secret thoughts than any other person, gives the following accountof this momentous and fatal act:

"A thousand idle stories have been related concerning the Emperor'smotives for breaking the bonds he had contracted upwards of fifteenyears before, and separating from one who was the partner of his lifeduring the most stormy events of his glorious career. It was ascribedto his ambition to connect himself with royal blood; and malevolence hasdelighted in spreading the report that to this consideration he hadsacrificed every other. This opinion was quite erroneous, and he was asunfairly dealt with, upon the subject, as all persons are who happen tobe placed above the level of mankind. 

"Nothing can be more true than that the sacrifice of the object of hisaffections was the most painful that he experienced throughout his life;and that he would have preferred adopting any course than the one towhich he was driven by the motives which I am about to relate. Publicopinion in general was unjust to the Emperor, when he placed theimperial crown upon his head. A feeling of personal ambition wassupposed to be the main-spring of all his actions. This was, however, avery mistaken impression. I have already mentioned with what reluctancehe had altered the form of government, and that if he had not beenapprehensive that the State would fall again a prey to those dissensionswhich are inseparable from an elective form of government, he would nothave changed an order of things which appeared to have been the firstsolid conquest achieved by the revolution. Ever since he had broughtback the nation to monarchical principles, he had neglected no means ofconsolidating institutions which permanently secured those principles, and yet firmly established the superiority of modern ideas overantiquated customs. Differences of opinion could no longer create anydisturbance respecting the form of government, when his career should beclosed. 

"But this was not enough. It was further requisite that the line ofinheritance should be defined in so clear a manner that, at his death, no pretense might be made for the contention of any claimants to thethrone. For if such a misfortune were to take place, the least foreignintervention would have sufficed to revive a spirit of discord among us. This feeling of personal ambition consisted in this case, in a desire tohand his work down to posterity, and to resign to his successor a stateresting upon his numerous trophies for its stability. He could not havebeen blind to the fact, that the perpetual warfare into which a jealousyof his strength had plunged him, had, in reality, no other object thanhis own downfall, because with him must necessarily crumble thatgigantic power which was no longer upheld by the revolutionary energyhe himself had repressed. 

"The Emperor had not any children. The Empress had two, but he nevercould have entertained a thought of them without exposing himself to themost serious inconveniences. I believe, however, that if the twochildren of Josephine had been the only ones in his family, he wouldhave made some arrangement for securing the inheritance to Eugene. Hehowever dismissed the idea of appointing him his heir, because he hadnearer relations, and it would have given rise to dissensions which itwas his principal object to avoid. He also considered the necessity inwhich he was placed of forming an alliance sufficiently powerful, inorder that, in the event of his system being at any time threatened, that alliance might be a resting-point, and save it from total ruin. Helikewise hoped that it would be the means of putting to an end thatseries of wars, of which he was desirous, above all things, to avoid arecurrence. These were the motives which determined him to break a unionso long contracted. He wished it less for himself than for the purposeof interesting a powerful state in the maintenance of the order ofthings established in France. He reflected often on the mode of makingthis communication to the Empress. Still he was reluctant to speak toher. He was apprehensive of the consequences of her tenderness offeeling. His heart was never proof against the shedding of tears. "

The arch-chancellor Cambaceres states that Napoleon communicated to himthe resolution he had adopted; alluded to the reasons for the divorce, spoke of the anguish which the stern necessity caused his affections, and declared his intention to invest the act with forms the mostaffectionate and the most honorable to Josephine. 

"I will have nothing, " said he, "which can resemble a repudiation;nothing but a mere dissolution of the conjugal tie, founded upon mutualconsent; a consent itself founded upon the interests of the empire. Josephine is to be provided with a palace in Paris, with a princelyresidence in the country with an income of six hundred thousand dollars, and is to occupy the first rank among the princesses, after the futureEmpress. I wish ever to keep her near me as my best and mostaffectionate friend. "

Josephine was in some degree aware of the doom which was impending, andher heart was consumed by unmitigated grief. Hortense, who also washeart-stricken and world-weary, was entreated by the Emperor to prepareher mother for the sad tidings. She did so, but very imperfectly. Atlast the fatal hour arrived in which it was necessary for the Emperor tomake the dreaded announcement to the Empress. They were both atFontainebleau, and Hortense was with her mother. For some time there hadbeen much constraint in the intercourse between the Emperor and Empress;he dreading to make the cruel communication, and her heart laceratedwith anguish in the apprehension of receiving it. 

It was the last day of November, 1809, cold and cheerless. Napoleon andJosephine dined alone in silence, not a word being spoken during therepast. At the close of the meal, Napoleon, pale and trembling, took thehand of the Empress and said:

"Josephine, my own good Josephine, you know how I have loved you. It isto you alone that I owe the few moments of happiness I have known in theworld. Josephine, my destiny is stronger than my will. My dearestaffections must yield to the welfare of France. "

All-expected as the blow was, it was none the less dreadful. Josephinefell, apparently lifeless, to the floor. The Count de Beaumont wasimmediately summoned, and, with the aid of Napoleon, conveyed Josephineto her apartment. Hortense came at once to her mother, whom she loved sotenderly. The anguish of the scene overcame her. In respectful, thoughreproachful tones, she said to the Emperor, "My mother will descend fromthe throne, as she ascended it, in obedience to your will. Her children, content to renounce grandeurs which have not made them happy, willgladly go and devote their lives to comforting the best and the mostaffectionate of mothers. "

Napoleon was entirely overcome. He sat down and wept bitterly. Raisinghis eyes swimming in tears to his daughter, he said:

"Do not leave me, Hortense. Stay by me with Eugene. Help me to consoleyour mother and render her calm, resigned, and even happy in remainingmy friend, while she ceases to be my wife. "

Eugene was summoned from Italy. Upon his arrival his sister threwherself into his arms, and, after a brief interview of mutual anguish, led him to their beloved mother. After a short interview with her, herepaired to the cabinet of the Emperor. In respectful terms, but firmand very sad, he inquired if Napoleon intended to obtain a divorce fromthe Empress. Napoleon, who tenderly loved his noble son, could onlyreply with the pressure of the hand. Eugene immediately recoiled and, withdrawing his hand, said:

"In that case, Sire, permit me to retire from your service. "

"How, " exclaimed Napoleon, looking sadly upon him. "Will you, my adoptedson, forsake me?"

"Yes, Sire, " Eugene replied. "The son of her who is no longer Empress, can not remain viceroy. I will follow my mother into her retreat. Shemust now find her consolation in her children. "

Tears filled the eyes of the Emperor. "You know, " said he, "the sternnecessity which compels this measure. Will you forsake me? Who then, should I have a son, the object of my desires and preserver of myinterests, who will watch over the child when I am absent? If I die, whowill prove to him a father? Who will bring him up? Who is to make a manof him?"

Napoleon and Eugene then retired to the garden, and for a long timewalked, arm in arm, up and down one of its avenues, engaged in earnestconversation. Josephine, with a mother's love, could not forget theinterests of her children, even in her own anguish. 

"The Emperor, " she said to Eugene, "is your benefactor, your more thanfather; to whom you are indebted for every thing, and to whom thereforeyou owe boundless obedience. "

A fortnight passed away and the 15th of December arrived; the dayappointed for the consummation of this cruel sacrifice. The affectingscene transpired in the grand saloon of the palace of the Tuileries. Allthe members of the imperial family were present. Eugene and Hortensewere with their mother, sustaining her with their sympathy and love. Anextreme pallor overspread the countenance of Napoleon, as he addressedthe assembled dignitaries of the empire. 

"The political interests of my monarchy, " said he, "and the wishes of mypeople, which have constantly guided my actions, require that I shouldtransmit to an heir, inheriting my love for the people, the throne onwhich Providence has placed me. For many years I have lost all hope ofhaving children by my beloved spouse the Empress Josephine. It is thisconsideration which induces me to sacrifice the dearest affections ofmy heart, to consult only the good of my subjects, and to desire thedissolution of our marriage. Arrived at the age of forty years, I mayindulge the reasonable hope of living long enough to rear, in the spiritof my own thoughts and disposition, the children with which it mayplease Providence to bless me. God knows how much such a determinationhas cost my heart. But there is no sacrifice too great for my couragewhen it is proved to be for the interest of France. Far from having anycause of complaint, I have nothing to say but in praise of theattachment and tenderness of my beloved wife. She has embellishedfifteen years of my life, and the remembrance of them will be foreverengraven on my heart. She was crowned by my hand. She shall alwaysretain the rank and title of Empress. Above all, let her never doubt myaffection, or regard me but as her best and dearest friend. "

Josephine now endeavored to fulfill her part in this sad drama. Unfolding a paper, she vainly strove to read her assent to the divorce. But tears blinded her eyes and emotion choked her voice. Handing thepaper to a friend and sobbing aloud, she sank into a chair and buriedher face in her handkerchief. Her friend, M. Reynaud, read the paper, which was as follows:

[Illustration: THE DIVORCE ANNOUNCED. ]

"With the permission of my august and dear spouse, I must declare that, retaining no hope of having children who may satisfy the requirements ofhis policy and the interests of France, I have the pleasure of givinghim the greatest proof of attachment and devotedness which was evergiven on earth. I owe all to his bounty. It was his hand that crownedme, and on his throne I have received only manifestations of love andaffection from the French people. I respond to all the sentiments of theEmperor, in consenting to the dissolution of a marriage which is now anobstacle to the happiness of France, by depriving it of the blessing ofbeing one day governed by the descendants of that great man who wasevidently raised up by Providence to efface the evils of a terriblerevolution, and to restore the altar, the throne, and social order. Butthe dissolution of my marriage will in no respect change the sentimentsof my heart. The Emperor will ever find in me his best friend. I knowhow much this act, commanded by policy and exalted interests, has renthis heart. But we both glory in the sacrifices we make for the goodof the country. "

"After these words, " says Thiers, "the noblest ever uttered under suchcircumstances--for never, it must be confessed, did vulgar passions lessprevail in an act of this kind--Napoleon, embracing Josephine, led herto her own apartment, where he left her, almost fainting, in the arms ofher children. "

The next day the Senate was convened in the grand saloon to sanction thelegal consummation of the divorce. Eugene presided. As he announced thedesire of the Emperor and Empress for the dissolution of their marriage, he said: "The tears of his Majesty at this separation are sufficient forthe glory of my mother. " The description of the remaining scenes of thiscruel tragedy we repeat from "Abbott's Life of Napoleon. "

"The Emperor, dressed in the robes of state, and pale as a statue ofmarble, leaned against a pillar, careworn and wretched. Folding his armsupon his breast, with his eyes fixed upon vacancy, he stood in gloomysilence. It was a funereal scene. The low hum of mournful voices alonedisturbed the stillness of the room. A circular table was placed in thecentre of the apartment. Upon it there was a writing apparatus of gold. A vacant arm-chair stood before the table. The company gazed silentlyupon it as the instrument of the most soul-harrowing execution. 

"A side door opened, and Josephine entered. Her face was as white as thesimple muslin robe which she wore. She was leaning upon the arm ofHortense, who, not possessing the fortitude of her mother, was sobbingconvulsively. The whole assembly, upon the entrance of Josephine, instinctively arose. All were moved to tears. With her own peculiargrace, Josephine advanced to the seat provided for her. Leaning her paleforehead upon her hand, she listened with the calmness of stupor to thereading of the act of separation. The convulsive sobbings of Hortense, mingled with the subdued and mournful tones of the reader's voice, addedto the tragic impressiveness of the scene. Eugene, pale and trembling, stepped forward and took a position by the side of his adored mother, togive her the moral support of his near presence. 

"As soon as the reading of the act of separation was finished, Josephine, for a moment, in anguish pressed her handkerchief to hereyes, and rising, in tones clear, musical, but tremulous with repressedemotion, pronounced the oath of acceptance. She sat down, took the pen, and affixed her signature to the deed which sundered the dearest hopesand the fondest ties which human hearts can feel. Eugene could endurethis anguish no longer. His brain reeled, his heart ceased to beat, andfainting, he fell senseless to the floor. Josephine and Hortenseretired, with the attendants who bore out the inanimate form of theaffectionate son and brother. It was a fitting termination of theheart-rending yet sublime tragedy. 

"Josephine remained in her chamber overwhelmed with speechless grief. Asombre night darkened over the city, oppressed by the gloom of thiscruel sacrifice. The hour arrived at which Napoleon usually retired forsleep. The Emperor, restless and wretched, had just placed himself inthe bed from which he had ejected his faithful and devoted wife, whenthe private door of his chamber was slowly opened, and Josephinetremblingly entered. 

"Her eyes were swollen with weeping, her hair disordered, and sheappeared in all the dishabille of unutterable anguish. Hardly consciousof what she did, in the delirium of her woe, she tottered into themiddle of the room and approached the bed of her former husband. Thenirresolutely stopping, she buried her face in her hands and burst into aflood of tears. 

"A feeling of delicacy seemed, for a moment, to have arrested hersteps--a consciousness that she had _now_ no right to enter the chamberof Napoleon. In another moment all the pent-up love of her heart burstforth, and forgetting every thing in the fullness of her anguish, shethrew herself upon the bed, clasped Napoleon's neck in her arms, andexclaiming, 'My husband! my husband!' sobbed as though her heart werebreaking. The imperial spirit of Napoleon was entirely vanquished. Healso wept convulsively. He assured Josephine of his love--of his ardent, undying love. In every way he tried to soothe and comfort her. For sometime they remained locked in each other's embrace. The valet-de-chambre, who was still present, was dismissed, and for an hour Napoleon andJosephine continued together in this their last private interview. Josephine then, in the experience of an intensity of anguish such as fewhuman hearts have ever known, parted forever from the _husband_ whomshe had so long and so faithfully loved. "

Josephine having withdrawn, an attendant entered the apartment to removethe lights. He found the Emperor so buried beneath the bedclothes as tobe invisible. Not a word was uttered. The lights were removed, and theunhappy monarch was left alone in darkness and silence to the melancholycompanionship of his own thoughts. The next morning the death-likepallor of his cheek, his sunken eye, and the haggard expression of hiscountenance, attested that the Emperor had passed the night insleeplessness and in suffering. 

The grief of Napoleon was unquestionably sincere. It could not but beso. He was influenced by no vagrant passion. He had formed no newattachment. He truly loved Josephine. He consequently resolved to retirefor a time to the seclusion of Trianon, at Versailles. He seemeddesirous that the externals of mourning should accompany an event somournful. 

"The orders for the departure for Trianon, " writes the Baron Meneval, Napoleon's private secretary, "had been previously given. When in themorning the Emperor was informed that his carriages were ready, he tookhis hat and said, 'Meneval, come with me. ' I followed him by the littlewinding staircase which, from his cabinet, communicated with theapartment of the Empress. Josephine was alone, and appeared absorbed inthe most melancholy reflections. At the noise which we made in entering, she eagerly rose and threw herself sobbing upon the neck of the Emperor. He pressed her to his bosom with the most ardent embraces. 

"In the excess of her emotion she fainted. I rang the bell for succor. The Emperor wishing to avoid the renewal of scenes of anguish which hecould no longer alleviate, placed the Empress in my arms as soon as shebegan to revive. Directing me not to leave her, he hastily retired tohis carriage which was waiting for him at the door. The Empress, perceiving the departure of the Emperor, redoubled her tears and moans. Her women placed her upon a sofa. She seized my hands, and franticallyurged me to entreat Napoleon not to forget her, and to assure him thather love would survive every event. 

"She made me promise to write her immediately on my arrival at Trianon, and to see that the Emperor wrote to her also. She could hardly consentto let me go, as if my departure would break the last tie which stillconnected her with the Emperor. I left her, deeply moved by theexhibition of a grief so true and an attachment so sincere. I wasprofoundly saddened during my ride, and I could not refrain fromdeploring the rigorous exigencies of state which rudely sundered theties of a long-tried affection, to impose another union offering onlyuncertainties. Having arrived at Trianon, I gave the Emperor a faithfulaccount of all that had transpired after his departure. He was stilloppressed by the melancholy scenes through which he had passed. He dweltupon the noble qualities of Josephine, and upon the sincerity of theaffection which she cherished for him. He ever after preserved for herthe most tender attachment. The same evening he wrote to her a letter toconsole her solitude. " The letter was as follows:

"My love, I found you to-day more feeble than you ought to be. You haveexhibited much fortitude, and it is necessary that you should stillcontinue to sustain yourself. You must not yield to funereal melancholy. Strive to be tranquil, and, above, all, to preserve your health, whichis so precious to me. If you are attached to me, if you love me, youmust maintain your energy and strive to be cheerful. You can not doubtmy constancy and my tender affection. You know too well all thesentiments with which I regard you to suppose that I can be happy if youare unhappy, that I can be serene if you are agitated. Adieu, my love. Sleep well. Believe that I wish it. 

 "NAPOLEON. "

After the departure of the Emperor, at eleven o'clock in the morning allthe household of the Tuileries were assembled upon the grand staircase, to witness the retirement of their beloved mistress from the sceneswhere she had so long been the brightest ornament. Josephine descendedfrom her apartment veiled from head to foot. Her emotions were too deepfor utterance. Silently she waved an adieu to the affectionate andweeping friends who surrounded her. A close carriage with six horses wasbefore the door. She entered it, sank back upon the cushions, buried herface in her handkerchief, and, sobbing bitterly, left the Tuileriesforever. 

After the divorce, Josephine spent most of her time at the beautifulchateau of Malmaison, which had been assigned to her, or at the palaceof Navarre, which was embellished for her at an expense of two hundredthousand dollars. She retained the title of Empress, and received ajointure of about six hundred thousand dollars a year. Almost dailyletters were exchanged between her and the Emperor, and he frequentlyvisited her. But from motives of delicacy he never saw her alone. Weknow of nothing more pathetic in history than the gleams we get of theseinterviews, as revealed in the "Confidential letters of Napoleon andJosephine, " whose publication was authorized by Queen Hortense, afterthe death of her mother. Josephine, in the following words, describesone of these interviews at Malmaison. It was after the marriage withMaria Louisa. 

"I was one day painting a violet, a flower which recalled to my memorymy more happy days, when one of my women ran towards me and made a signby placing her finger upon her lips. The next moment I wasoverpowered--I beheld Napoleon. He threw himself with transport into thearms of his old friend. Oh, then I was convinced that he could stilllove me; for that man really loved me. It seemed impossible for him tocease gazing upon me, and his look was that of tender affection. Atlength, in a tone of deepest compassion and love, he said:

"'My dear Josephine, I have always loved you. I love you still. Do youstill love me, excellent and good Josephine? Do you still love me, inspite of the relations I have again contracted, and which have separatedme from you? But they have not banished you from my memory. '

"'Sire, ' I replied--

"'Call me Bonaparte, ' said he; 'speak to me, my beloved, with the samefreedom, the same familiarity as ever. '

"Bonaparte soon disappeared, and I heard only the sound of his retiringfootsteps. Oh, how quickly does every thing take place on earth. I hadonce more felt the pleasure of being loved. "

In reference to this melancholy event, Napoleon said, at Saint Helena:

"My divorce has no parallel in history. It did not destroy the tieswhich united our families, and our mutual tenderness remained unchanged. Our separation was a sacrifice, demanded of us by reason, for theinterests of my crown and of my dynasty. Josephine was devoted to me. She loved me tenderly. No one ever had a preference over me in herheart. I occupied the first place in it, her children the next. She wasright in thus loving me; and the remembrance of her is stillall-powerful in my mind. Josephine was really an amiable woman: she wasso kind, so humane. She was the best woman in France. 

"A son, by Josephine, would have completed my happiness, not only in apolitical point of view, but as a source of domestic felicity. As apolitical result it would have secured to me the possession of thethrone. The French people would have been as much attached to the son ofJosephine as they were to the King of Rome, and I should not have set myfoot on an abyss covered with a bed of flowers. But how vain are allhuman calculations! Who can pretend to decide on what may lead tohappiness or unhappiness in this life!"

The divorce of Josephine, strong as were the political motives which ledto it, was a violation of the immutable laws of God. Like allwrong-doing, however seemingly prosperous for a time, it promoted finaldisaster and woe. Doubtless Napoleon, educated in the midst of thoseconvulsions which had shaken all the foundations of Christian morality, did not clearly perceive the extent of the wrong. He unquestionably feltthat he was doing right; that the interests of France demanded thesacrifice. But the penalty was none the less inevitable. The laws of Godcan not be violated with impunity, even though the violation be a sin ofignorance. 

CHAPTER VI. 

THE DEATH OF JOSEPHINE. 

1810-1816

Marriage of Napoleon and Maria Louisa. --Hortense goes toNavarre. --Letter from Josephine. --Louis Bonaparte abdicates. --MadameBroc. --"Partant pour la Syrie. "--Illness of Napoleon Louis. --Letter fromEugene. --Napoleon arrives in Paris. --Letter from Josephine. --Death ofMadame Broc. --Hortense at Aix. --Disasters to Napoleon. --Embarrassment ofMaria Louisa. --Napoleon's last interview with Josephine. --Josephine goesto Navarre. --Letter from Napoleon. --Napoleon abdicates. --Kindness ofAlexander. --Illness of Josephine. --Death of Josephine. 

From the sad scenes described in the last chapter, Eugene returned toItaly. Hortense, in the deepest state of dejection, remained for a shorttime in Paris, often visiting her mother at Malmaison. About five monthsafter the divorce, Napoleon was again married to Maria Louisa, daughterof the Emperor of Austria. The marriage ceremony was first celebratedwith great pomp in Vienna, Napoleon being represented by proxy; andagain the ceremony was repeated in Paris. It devolved upon Hortense, asthe daughter of Napoleon, and the most prominent lady of his household, to receive with smiles of welcome and cordiality of greeting theprincess who took the place of her mother. Seldom has it been the lot ofa woman to pass through a more painful ordeal. Josephine, that she mightbe far removed from the tumult of Paris, rejoicing upon the arrival ofMaria Louisa, retired from Malmaison to the more distant palace ofNavarre. Soon after the marriage, Hortense hastened to join her motherthere. There was at this time but little sympathy between Hortense andher husband. The power of a great sorrow in the death of their eldestson had for a short time brought them more closely together. There was, however, but little compatibility in their tastes and dispositions; andHortense, deeming it her duty to comfort her mother, and finding morecongeniality in her society than in that of her husband, made but briefvisits to Holland. 

It is easy for the prosperous and the happy to be amiable. Hortense wasin a state of great physical debility, and almost every hope of her lifehad been crushed out. The letters of Hortense to Josephine have not beenmade public. We can only judge of their character from the replies whichher mother made. From these it would appear that scarcely did a ray ofjoy illumine the gloomy path which she was destined to tread. On the 4thof April, 1810, Josephine wrote to Hortense from Navarre:

"I am touched, my dear Hortense, with all the griefs which youexperience. I hope that there is no more question of your return toHolland, and that you will have a little repose. I know how much youmust suffer from these disappointments, but I entreat you not to allowyourself to be affected by them. As long as any thing remains to me youshall be mistress of your destiny; grief and happiness--you know that Ishare all with you. 

"Take, then, a little courage, my dear daughter. We both of us have muchneed of it. Often mine is too feeble, and sorrow makes me sick. But Iseek fortitude all the time, and with my utmost efforts. "

Soon after this Hortense, taking her two children with her, rejoined herhusband, King Louis, in Holland. Josephine wrote to her on the 10th ofMay, from Navarre:

"I have received your letter, my dear Hortense, and I see, with muchpain, that your health is not good. I hope that repose will re-establishit; and I can not doubt that the king will contribute to it every thingin his power, by his attentions and his attachments. Every day will leadhim to see more and more how much you merit. Take care of yourself, mydear daughter; you know how much I have need of you. My heart hassuffered to a degree which has somewhat impaired my health. Butfortitude triumphs over sorrow, and I begin to be a little better. "

Again, on the 15th, the Empress wrote to Hortense, who was still inAmsterdam:

"I have been extremely anxious on account of your health, my dearHortense. I know that you have experienced several attacks of fever, andI have need to be tranquilized. 

"Your letter of the 10th has just reached me, but it has not given methe consolation I had hoped for. I see in it an abandonment of yourself, which gives me great pain. How many ties are there which should bind youto life! And if you have so little affection for me, is it then, when Iam no longer happy, that you can think, with so much tranquillity, ofleaving me?

"Take courage, my daughter, and especially be careful of your health. Iam confident, as I have already sent you word, that the waters whichhave been prescribed for you will do you good. Speak of it to the kingwith frankness. He certainly will not refuse you any thing which may beessential to your health. I am making all my arrangements to go to thesprings in the month of June. But I do not think that I shall go toAix-la-Chapelle, but rather to Aix in Savoy, which place I prefer. 

"Diversion of mind is necessary for my health, and I have more hope offinding that in a place which I have never seen, and whose situation ispicturesque. The waters of Aix are particularly efficacious for thenerves. I earnestly recommend you to take them instead of those ofPlombières. We can pass the time together. Reply to me immediately uponthis subject. We can lodge together. It will not be necessary for you totake many companions with you. I shall take but very few, intending totravel incognito. To-morrow I go to Malmaison, where I shall remainuntil I leave for the springs. I see with pleasure that the health ofLouis Napoleon is good, and that he has not suffered from the change ofair. Embrace him for me, my dear Hortense, and love me as tenderly as Ilove you. 

 "JOSEPHINE. 

"P. S. --Remember me to the king. "

For some unexplained reason, Hortense repaired first to the waters ofPlombières. Her youngest son, Louis Napoleon, was sent to Malmaison, tobe with Josephine, who so fondly loved the child that she was quiteunwilling to be separated from him. Hortense took her elder child, Napoleon Louis, with her to the springs. Here she was taken very sick. On the 14th of June Josephine wrote her from Malmaison:

"I did not know how much you had suffered, my dear Hortense, until youwere better; but I had a presentiment of it, and my anxiety induced meto write to one of your ladies, to indicate to her the telegraph fromNancy, as a prompt resource to call a physician. You ask me what I amdoing. I had yesterday a day of happiness. The Emperor came to see me. His presence made me happy, although it renewed my grief. These areemotions such as one could wish often to experience. 

"All the time he remained with me I had sufficient fortitude to restrainthe tears which I felt were ready to flow. But after he had left, I hadno longer power to restrain them, and I found myself very unhappy. Hewas kind to me, and amiable as ever; and I hope that he will have readin my heart all the affection and all the devotion with which I cherishhim. 

"I spoke to him of your situation, and he listened to me with interest. He is of opinion that you should not return to Holland, the king nothaving conducted as he would wish to have him. The opinion of theEmperor is that you should take the waters for the necessary time; thatyou should then write to your husband that it is the opinion of yourphysicians that you should reside in a warm climate for some time, andthat consequently you are going to Italy. As to your son, the Emperorwill give orders that he is not to leave France. 

"I hope to see you, perhaps at Aix in Savoy, if the waters at Plombièresdo not agree with you; perhaps in Switzerland, where the Emperor haspermitted me to journey. We shall be able to appoint for ourselves arendezvous where we may meet. Then I will relate to you with the livingvoice those details which it would require too much time to write. Iintend to leave next Monday for Aix in Savoy. I shall travel incognito, under the name of Madame d'Aubery. Your son (Louis Napoleon), who is nowhere, is very well. He has rosy cheeks and a fair skin. "

Immediately upon Josephine's arrival at Aix, she wrote again toHortense, who was still at Plombières, a letter expressive of greatanxiety for her health and happiness, and entreating her to come andjoin her at Aix. "How I regret, " she wrote, "not having known, before mydeparture, the true state of your health. I should have been atPlombières to take care of you, and I should not have experienced theanxiety which tortures me at this great distance. My only consolation isto think that you will soon come here. Let me soon see you. Alone, desolate, far from all my friends, and in the midst of strangers, youcan judge how sad I am, and all the need I have of your presence. "

In July, Louis Bonaparte abdicated the throne of Holland. Hortense wroteto her mother all the details of the event. Josephine engaged a cottageat Aix for herself and Hortense. She wrote to Hortense on the 18th ofJuly:

"I am delighted with the resolution you have taken to come here. I amoccupied, in preparing your lodgings, more pleasantly than I could havehoped. A gentleman here has relinquished his house. I have accepted it, for it is delightfully situated, and the view is enchanting. The houseshere are very small, but that which you will inhabit is larger. You canride anywhere in a calèche. You will be very glad to have your own. Ihave mine, and I ride out in it every day. Adieu, my dear Hortense. I amimpatient for the moment when I can embrace you. "

As it was not deemed proper for the young princes, the sons of Hortense, to leave France, they were both left at the chateau of St. Cloud, whileHortense visited her mother at Aix. The devoted friend of Hortense, Madame Broc, to whom we have previously alluded, accompanied theex-queen to Aix. The two friends frequently enjoyed long walks togetherin that region full of picturesque scenery. Hortense had a very keenappreciation of the beauties of nature, and had attained much excellenceas a landscape painter. Aix, from its deep retirement and physicalgrandeur, became quite a favorite retreat. She had but little heart forany society but that of the solitudes of nature. 

About the first of October Hortense returned, by the advice of theEmperor, to Fontainebleau, where she was reunited to her two sons. Josephine was, in the mean time, taking a short tour in Switzerland. Wehave previously spoken of Hortense's taste for music, and her skill as acomposer. One of the airs, or _romances_, as they were called, composedby Hortense still retains in Europe perhaps unsurpassed popularity. Itwas termed familiarly _Beau Dunois_, or the Knight Errant. Its fulltitle was "_Partant pour la Syrie, le jeune et beau Dunois. _"[E]

[Footnote E: The writer remembers that forty years ago this was afavorite song in this country. At Bowdoin College it was the popularcollege song. It is now, in France, one of the favorite national airs. ]

Josephine, writing from Geneva to Hortense at Fontainebleau, says: "Ihave heard sung all over Switzerland your romance of Beau Dunois! I haveeven heard it played upon the piano with beautiful variations. "Josephine soon returned to Navarre, which at that time she preferred toMalmaison, as it was farther removed from the capital, and from thetumult of joy with which the birth of the child of Maria Louisa would bereceived. On the 20th of March, 1811, all France resounded withacclamations at the birth of the young King of Rome. Hortense, devotingherself to her children, remained in Paris and its environs. In theautumn of this year Josephine left Navarre, and returned to Malmaison tospend the winter there. Hortense and her husband, though much estrangedfrom each other, and living most of the time apart, were still notformally separated, and occasionally dwelt together. The ostensiblecause of the frequent absence of Hortense from her husband was the stateof her health, rendering it necessary for her to make frequent visits tothe springs, and the griefs of her mother requiring often the solace ofher daughter's presence. 

Louis Bonaparte owned a very beautiful estate, called St. Leu, inFrance. Early in May, 1812, Napoleon left Paris for the fatal campaignto Moscow. Just before his departure, he called at Malmaison and took anaffectionate leave of Josephine. Hortense was at St. Leu, with herchildren. After a short visit which Josephine made to St. Leu, and whichshe describes as delightful, she returned to Malmaison, and Hortensewent to the springs of Aix-la-Chapelle, taking her two children withher. Here Napoleon Louis was attacked with scarlet fever, which causedhis mother and the Empress great anxiety. 

Josephine wrote to her, on the 28th of July: "You are very kind not tohave forgotten me in the midst of your anxiety for your son. Embrace forme that dear child, and my little _Oui Oui_" (yes, yes). [F] Again shewrote, two days after: "I hope that our dear Napoleon continues toimprove, and that the little _Oui Oui_ is doing well. " Eugene, leavinghis amiable and much-loved wife and little family at Milan, hadaccompanied Napoleon on his Russian campaign. During his absenceJosephine visited Milan, and there, as everywhere else, won the love ofall who saw her. Hortense, with her children, was most of the time inParis. Eugene, immediately after the terrible battle of Borodino, wroteas follows to Josephine. His letter was dated September 8, 1812. 

[Footnote F: Oui Oui was the pet name given to little Louis Napoleon. ]

"MY GOOD MOTHER, --I write you from the field of battle. The Emperor hasgained a great victory over the Russians. The battle lasted thirteenhours. I commanded the right, and hope that the Emperor will besatisfied. 

"I can not sufficiently thank you for your attentions and kindness to mylittle family. You are adored at Milan, as everywhere else. They writeme most charming accounts of you, and you have won the love of every onewith whom you have become acquainted. Adieu! Please give tidings of meto my sister. I will write her to-morrow. Your affectionate son, "EUGENE. "

The latter part of October of this year, 1812, Napoleon commenced hisawful retreat from Moscow. Josephine and Hortense were much of the timetogether in a state of indescribable suspense and anguish. At midnight, on the 18th of December, Napoleon arrived in Paris. The disasters inRussia had caused a new coalition of all the dynasties against France. The Emperor of Austria, unmindful of the marriage of his daughter withNapoleon, had joined the coalition with all the military powers of hisempire. The majestic army with which Napoleon had invaded Russia wasalmost annihilated, and nearly two millions of bayonets were nowdirected against the Republican Empire. 

All France rose with enthusiasm to co-operate with Napoleon in hisendeavors to resist the thronging foes. By the middle of April, nearlythree hundred thousand men were on the march from France towardsGermany, gallantly to meet the onswelling flood of more than a millionof bayonets. On the 15th of April, 1813, at four o'clock in the morning, Napoleon left St. Cloud for the seat of war. The terrific campaign ofLutzen, Bautzen, Dresden, and Leipsic ensued. 

Days of darkness were lowering around the Empire. The health of Hortenserendered it necessary for her to go to the springs of Aix in Savoy. Hertwo children were left with her mother at Malmaison. Under date of June11, 1813, the Empress wrote to her daughter:

"I have received your letter of the 7th, my dear Hortense. I see withpleasure that you have already been benefited by the waters. I adviseyou to continue them, in taking, as you do, a few days of repose. Bevery tranquil respecting your children. They are perfectly well. Theircomplexion is of the lily and the rose. I can assure you that since theyhave been here they have not had the slightest indisposition. I mustrelate to you a very pretty response on the part of _Oui Oui_. The AbbéBertrand caused him to read a fable where there was a question about_metamorphosis_. Being called to explain the word, he said to the abbé:

"'I wish I could change myself into a little bird, I would then fly awayat the hour of your lesson; but I would return when M. Hase (his teacherof German) arrived. '

[Illustration: THE DEATH OF MADAME BROC. ]

"'But, prince, ' remarked the abbé, 'it is not very polite for you to saythat to me. ' 'Oh, ' replied _Oui Oui_, 'that which I say is only forthe lesson, not for the man. '

"Do you not think, with me, that that repartee was very _spirituelle_?It was impossible for him to extricate himself from the embarrassmentwith more delicacy and gracefulness. Your children were with me when Ireceived your letter. They were very happy to receive tidings from theirmamma. Continue to write often, my dear daughter, for their sake and formine. It is the only means to enable me to support your absence. "

While upon this visit to Aix, Hortense was accompanied by herinseparable friend, Madame Broc. One day Hortense and Adèle wereascending a mountain, whose summit commanded a very magnificent view. Their path led over a deep, dark, craggy ravine, which was swept by amountain torrent, foaming and roaring over the rocks. Alpine firs, casting a gloomy shade, clung to its sides. A frail rustic bridgecrossed the chasm. Hortense with light step passed over in safety. Madame Broc followed. A piercing shriek was heard, followed by a crash. As Hortense turned round she saw that the bridge had given way, and hercompanion was falling, torn and mangled, from rock to rock, till therushing torrent seized her and whirled her lifeless body down the gulfin its wild waters. There was no possibility of rescue. For a moment thefluttering robes of the unfortunate lady were seen in the midst of thesurging flood, and then the body was swept away far down the dismalgorge. 

The shock which this frightful accident gave to the nerves of Hortensewas like that which she experienced at the death of her son. For a timeshe seemed stunned by the blow, and reason tottered on its throne. Instead of flying from Aix, she lingered there. As soon as she partiallyrecovered tranquillity, she sought to divert her grief by entering theabodes of sickness, sorrow, and suffering in the neighborhood, administering relief with her own hands. She established a hospital atAix from her own private funds for the indigent, and, like an angel ofmercy, clothed the naked and fed the hungry, and, while her own heartwas breaking, spoke words of consolation to the world-weary. 

In reference to this event Josephine wrote from Malmaison to Hortense atAix, under date of June 16, 1813:

"What a horrible accident, my dear Hortense! What a friend you havelost, and by what a frightful calamity! Since yesterday, when I heard ofit, I have been so horror-struck as not to be able to write to you. Every moment I have before my eyes the fate of that poor Adèle. Everybody is in tears for her. She was so beloved, so worthy of beingbeloved, by her excellent qualities and by her attachment for you. I canthink of nothing but what condition you are in. I am so anxious, that Isend my chamberlain, M. Turpin, to you, that he may give me more certainintelligence respecting your health. I shall make haste to leave myselffor a short time, that my presence and my care may be useful to you. Ifeel keenly your grief. It is too well founded. But, my dear daughter, think of your children, who are so worthy of your love. Preserveyourself for them! Think also of your mother, who loves you tenderly. 

 "JOSEPHINE. "

Thus blow after blow fell upon the heart of poor Hortense. Two daysafter the above date Josephine wrote again, in reply to a letter fromher daughter:

"Your letter has reanimated me, my dear Hortense. In the dejection inwhich I was, I experienced true consolation in seeing your hand-writing, and in being assured by yourself that you try to conquer your grief. Ifully realize how much it must cost you. Your letter, so tender, sotouching, has renewed my tears. Ever since this frightful accident Ihave been sick. Alas! my dear daughter, you did not need this new trial. 

"I have embraced your children for you. They also are deeply afflicted, and think of you very much. I am consoled in thinking that you will notforget us. I thank you for it, my dear Hortense, my daughter tenderlybeloved. "

Again, a few days after, this affectionate mother wrote to hergrief-stricken child:

"I can not permit your courier to leave without transmitting to youintelligence from me; without letting you know how much I think of you. I fear that you may surrender yourself too much to the grief which youhave experienced. I shall not feel reassured until M. Turpin shall havereturned. Think of your charming children, my dear Hortense. Think alsoof a mother who adores you, and whom your life alone attaches to theworld. I hope that all these motives will give you courage to supportwith more resignation the loss of a friend so tender. 

"I have just received a letter from Eugene. He fully shares your grief, and desires that you should go and pass some time with him, if you havesufficient strength. I should be happy to know that you were with him. Your children are enjoying perfect health. They are truly interesting. It would, indeed, touch your feelings if you knew how much they think ofyou. Life is very precious, and one clings to it when one has such goodchildren. Adieu! my daughter. Think often of a mother who loves youtenderly, and who tenderly embraces you. "

As nothing can more clearly reveal than do these confidential lettersthe character of Hortense, and the domestic relations of thisillustrious and afflicted family, I insert them freely. They give us arare view of, those griefs of our suffering humanity which are found inthe palace no less than in the cottage. On the 29th of June, Josephinewrote again to Hortense:

"M. De Turpin has brought me your letter, my dear daughter. I see withpain how sad and melancholy you still are. But it is, at least, a greatconsolation to me to be assured that your health has not severelysuffered. Take courage, my dear Hortense. I hope that happiness will yetbe your lot. You have passed through many trials. Have not all personstheir griefs? The only difference is in the greater or less fortitude ofsoul with which one supports them. That which ought particularly tosoothe your grief is that every one shares it with you. There are nonewho do not regret our poor Adèle as much for themselves as for you. 

"Your children mourn over your sorrows. Every thing announces in them anexcellent character, and a strong attachment for you. The more I see ofthem the more I love them. Nevertheless, I do not spoil them. Feel easyon their account. We follow exactly what you have prescribed for theirregimen and their studies. When they have done well during the week, Iinvite them to breakfast and dine with me on the Sabbath. The proof thatthey are in good health is that they have grown much. Napoleon had oneeye slightly inflamed yesterday from the sting of a gnat. He was not, however, on that account, less well than usual. To-day it is no longermanifest. It would not be worth mentioning, were we not in the habit ofrendering you an exact account of every thing which concerns them. "

On the 6th of August Josephine wrote as follows:

"The beautiful days of summer have at last come with the month ofAugust. I hope that they will strengthen you, my dear daughter. Yourlungs will feel the influence of them, and the baths will do you muchmore good. I see with pleasure that you have not forgotten the years ofyour childhood, and you are very kind to your mother in recalling themto her. I did right in making happy, too, children so good and soaffectionate, and they have since abundantly recompensed me for it. Yourchildren will do the same for you, my dear Hortense. Their heartsresemble yours. They will never cease to love you. Their health iswonderfully good, and they have never been more fresh and vigorous. 

"The little _Oui Oui_ is always gallant and amiable to me. Two days ago, in seeing Madame Tascher leave us, who went to join her husband at thesprings, he said to Madame Boucheporn:

"'She must love her husband very much indeed, to be willing, for him, toleave my grandmother!'

"Do you not think that was charming? On the same day he went to walk inthe woods of Butard. As soon as he was in the grand avenue, he threw hishat in the air, shouting, 'Oh, how I love beautiful nature!'[G]

[Footnote G: All will read with interest the above anecdotes of thechildhood of Louis Napoleon, now Emperor of France. His manhood has morethan fulfilled even the great promise of his early days. The storieswhich have been circulated in this country respecting his earlydissipation are entirely unfounded. They originated in an error by whichanother Prince Bonaparte was mistaken for him. ]

"Not a day passes in which some one is not amused by his amiability. Thechildren animate all around me. Judge if you have not rendered me happyin leaving them with me. I can not be more happy until the day when Ishall see you. "

Disaster now followed disaster as the allied armies, in resistlessnumbers, crowded down upon France. The carnage of Dresden and Leipsiccompelled the Emperor, in November, to return to Paris to raisereinforcements. Though he had been victorious in almost every battle, still the surging billows of his foes, flowing in upon him from alldirections, could not be rolled back. 

Maria Louisa was in a state of great embarrassment, and dreaded to seeher husband. Her father, the Emperor of Austria, at the head of animmense army, was marching against France. When Napoleon, returning fromthe terrific strife, entered her apartment, Maria Louisa threw herselfinto his arms, and, unable to utter a word, burst into a flood of tears. Napoleon, having completed his arrangements for still maintaining thestruggle, on the 25th of January, 1814, embraced his wife and child, andreturned to the seat of war. He never saw wife or child again. 

As his carriage left the door of the palace, the Emperor, pressing hisforehead with his hand, said to Caulaincourt, who accompanied him, "Ienvy the lot of the meanest peasant of my empire. At my age he hasdischarged his debts to his country, and may remain at home enjoying thesociety of his wife and children, while I--I must fly to the camp andengage in the strife of war. Such is the mandate of my inexplicabledestiny. "

After a moment's reverie, he added, "My good Louise is gentle andsubmissive. I can depend on her. Her love and fidelity will never failme. In the current of events there may arise circumstances which willdecide the fate of an empire. In that case I hope that the daughter ofthe Cæsars will be inspired by the spirit of her grandmother, MariaTheresa. "

The struggle which ensued was short but awful. In the midst of theseterrific scenes Napoleon kept up an almost daily correspondence withJosephine. On one occasion, when the surgings of the battle brought himwithin a few miles of Malmaison, he turned aside and sought a hurriedinterview with his most faithful friend. It was their last meeting. Napoleon took the hand of Josephine, and, gazing tenderly upon her, said:

"Josephine, I have been as fortunate as ever was man upon the face ofthis earth. But in this hour, when a storm is gathering over my head, Ihave not in this wide world any one but you upon whom I can repose. "

Soon after this, as the seat of war approached nearer to Paris, Josephine found it necessary to retire to Navarre. She wrote toHortense, on the 28th of March: "To-morrow I shall leave for Navarre. Ihave but sixteen men for a guard, and all wounded. I shall take care ofthem; but in truth I have no need of them. I am so unhappy in beingseparated from my children that I am indifferent respecting my fate. "

At eight o'clock in the morning of the 29th Josephine took her carriagefor Navarre. The Allies were rapidly approaching Paris, and a state ofindescribable consternation filled the streets of the metropolis. Several times on the route the Empress was alarmed by the cry that theCossacks were coming. The day was dark and stormy, and the rain fell intorrents. The pole of the carriage broke as the wheels sunk in a rut. Just at that moment a troop of horsemen appeared in the distance. TheEmpress, in her terror, supposing them to be the barbarous Cossacks, leaped from the carriage and fled through the fields. Was there ever amore cruel reverse of fortune? Josephine, the Empress of France, theadmired of all Europe, in the frenzy of her alarm, rushing through thestorm and the rain to seek refuge in the woods! The troops proved to beFrench. Her attendants followed and informed her of the mistake. Sheagain entered her carriage, and uttered scarcely a word during the restof her journey. Upon entering the palace of Navarre, she threw herselfupon a couch, exclaiming:

"Surely Bonaparte is ignorant of what is passing within sight of thegates of Paris, or, if he knows, how cruel the thoughts which must nowagitate his breast. "

In a hurried letter which the Emperor wrote Josephine from Brienne, justafter a desperate engagement with his vastly outnumbering foes, he said:

"On beholding the scenes where I had passed my boyhood, and comparing mypeaceful condition then with the agitation and terrors I now experience, I several times said, in my own mind, 'I have sought to meet death inmany conflicts. I can no longer fear it. To me death would now be ablessing. But I would once more see Josephine. '"

Immediately after Josephine's arrival at Navarre, she wrote to Hortense, urging that she should join her at that place. In the letter she said:

"I can not tell you how sad I am. I have had fortitude in afflictedpositions in which I have found myself, and I shall have enough to bearmy reverses of fortune; but I have not sufficient to sustain me underabsence from my children, and uncertainty respecting their fate. For twodays I have not ceased to weep. Send me tidings respecting yourself andyour children. If you can learn any thing respecting Eugene and hisfamily, inform me. "

Two days after this, Hortense, with her two sons, joined her mother atNavarre. Paris was soon in the hands of the Allies. The EmperorAlexander invited Josephine and Hortense to return to Malmaison, wherehe established a guard for their protection. Soon after Napoleonabdicated at Fontainebleau. Upon the eve of his departure for Elba, hewrote to Josephine:

"I wrote to you on the 8th. Possibly you have not received my letter. Itmay have been intercepted. At present communications must bere-established. I have formed my resolution. I have no doubt that thisbillet will reach you. I will not repeat what I said to you. Then Ilamented my situation. Now I congratulate myself thereon. My head andspirit are freed from an enormous weight. My fall is great, but at leastis useful, as men say. Adieu! my dear Josephine. Be resigned as I am, and ever remember him who never forgets and never will forget you. "

Josephine returned to Malmaison, and Hortense repaired to Rambouillet, to join Maria Louisa in these hours of perplexity and disaster. As soonas Maria Louisa set out under an Austrian escort for Vienna, Hortenserejoined her mother at Malmaison. Alexander was particularly attentiveto Josephine and Hortense. He had loved Napoleon, and his sympathieswere now deeply excited for his afflicted family. Through his kindoffices, the beautiful estate of St. Leu, which Louis Bonaparte hadowned, and which he had transferred to his wife, was erected into aduchy for her advantage, and the right of inheritance was vested in herchildren. The ex-Queen of Holland now took the title of the Duchess ofSt. Leu. 

On the 10th of May the Emperor Alexander dined with Josephine atMalmaison. Grief, and a season unusually damp and cheerless, hadseriously undermined her health. Notwithstanding acute bodily suffering, she exerted herself to the utmost to entertain her guests. At night shewas worse and at times was delirious. Not long after this, Alexander andthe King of Prussia were both guests to dine at Malmaison. The healthof Josephine was such that she was urged by her friends not to leave herbed. She insisted, however, upon dressing to receive the alliedsovereigns. Her sufferings increased, and she was obliged to retire, leaving Hortense to supply her place. 

The next day Alexander kindly called to inquire for her health. Hourafter hour she seemed to be slowly failing. On the morning of the 28thshe fell into a lethargic sleep, which lasted for five hours, and hercase was pronounced hopeless. Eugene and Hortense were at her side. Thedeath-hour had come. The last rites of religion were administered to thedying. The Emperor Alexander was also in this chamber of grief. Josephine was perfectly rational. She called for the portrait ofNapoleon, and, gazing upon it long and tenderly, breathed the followingprayer:

"O God, watch over Napoleon while he remains in the desert of thisworld. Alas! though he hath committed great faults, hath he not expiatedthem by great sufferings? Just God, thou hast looked into his heart, andhast seen by how ardent a desire for useful and durable improvements hewas animated. Deign to approve this my last petition, and may thisimage of my husband bear me witness that my latest wish and my latestprayer were for him and for my children. "

Her last words were "_Island of Elba--Napoleon. _" It was the 29th ofMay, 1814. For four days her body remained laid out in state, surroundedwith numerous tapers. "Every road, " writes a French historian, "fromParis and its environs to Ruel was crowded with trains of mourners. Sadgroups thronged all the avenues; and I could distinguish tears even inthe splendid equipages which came rattling across the court-yard. "

More than twenty thousand persons--monarchs, nobles, statesmen, andweeping peasants--thronged the chateau of Malmaison to take the lastlook of the remains of one who had been universally beloved. The funeraltook place at noon of the 2d of June. The remains were deposited in thelittle church of Ruel. A beautiful mausoleum of white marble, representing the Empress kneeling in her coronation robes, bears thesimple inscription:

 EUGENE AND HORTENSE TO JOSEPHINE. 

CHAPTER VII. 

THE SORROWS OF EXILE. 

1814-1815

Eugene meets Louis XVIII. --Hortense in Paris. --Interest of Napoleon inthe princes. --Anecdote of Louis Napoleon. --Removal of the remains ofNapoleon Charles. --Titles of the princes. --Conversation with theprinces. --Louis Bonaparte demands the children. --Hortense meets theEmperor. --Reinauguration of the Emperor. --Hortense meetsNapoleon. --Departure of the Emperor. --Anger of the Royalists. --Hostilityof the Allies. --Driven into exile. --Takes refuge at Aix. --Separation ofthe princes. --Continued persecutions. --Hospitality of theSwiss. --Anguish of Hortense. --Retires to the Lake of Constance. --PrinceEugene. --Testimony of Lady Blessington. 

There probably never was a more tender, loving mother than Josephine. And it is not possible that any children could be more intensely devotedto a parent than were Eugene and Hortense to their mother. The grief ofthese bereaved children was heart-rending. Poor Hortense was led fromthe grave almost delirious with woe. Etiquette required that Eugene, passing through Paris, should pay his respects to Louis XVIII. The kinghad remarkable tact in paying compliments. Eugene announced himselfsimply as General Beauharnais. He thanked the king for the kindtreatment extended by the allied monarchs to his mother and his sister. Hortense was also bound, by the laws of courtesy, to call upon the kingin expression of gratitude. They were both received with so muchcordiality as to expose the king to the accusation of having become arank Bonapartist. On the other hand, Eugene and Hortense were censuredby the partisan press for accepting any favors from the Allies. Afterthe interview of Louis XVIII. With Hortense, in which she thanked himfor the Duchy of St. Leu, the king said to the Duke de Duras: "Neverhave I seen a woman uniting such grace to such distinguished manners;and I am a judge of women. "

It is very difficult to ascertain with accuracy the movements ofHortense during the indescribable tumult of the next few succeedingmonths. The Duke of Rovigo says that Hortense reproached the EmperorAlexander for turning against Napoleon, for whom he formerly hadmanifested so much friendship. But the Emperor replied: "I was compelledto yield to the wishes of the Allies. As for myself personally, I washmy hands of every thing which has been done. "

The death of Josephine and the departure of Eugene left Hortense, bereaved and dejected, almost alone in Paris with her two children. Their intelligence and vivacity had deeply interested Alexander andother royal guests, who had cordially paid their tribute of respect andsympathy to their mother. Napoleon had taken a deep interest in theeducation of the two princes, as he was aware of the frailty of life, and as the death of the King of Rome would bring them in the direct lineto the inheritance of the crown. 

The Emperor generally breakfasted alone when at home, at a small tablein his cabinet. The two sons of Hortense were frequently admitted, thatthey might interest him with their infant prattle. The Emperor wouldtell them a story, and have them repeat it after him, that he mightascertain the accuracy of their memory. Any indication of intellectualsuperiority excited in his mind the most lively satisfaction. Mademoiselle Cochelet, who was the companion and reader of QueenHortense, relates the following anecdote of Louis Napoleon:

"The two princes were in intelligence quite in advance of their years. This proceeded from the care which their mother gave herself to formtheir characters and to develop their faculties. They were, however, tooyoung to understand all the strange scenes which were transpiring aroundthem. As they had always beheld in the members of their own family, intheir uncles and aunts, kings and queens, when the Emperor of Russia andthe King of Prussia were first introduced to them, the little LouisNapoleon asked if they were also their uncles, and if they were to becalled so. 

"'No, ' was the reply; 'they are not your uncles. You will simply addressthem as sire. '

"'But are not all kings our uncles?' inquired the young prince. 

"'Far from being your uncle, ' was the reply, 'they have come, in theirturn, as conquerors. '

"'Then they are the enemies, ' said Louis Napoleon, 'of our uncle, theEmperor. Why, then, do they embrace us?'

"'Because the Emperor of Russia, whom you see, is a generous enemy. Hewishes to be useful to you and to your mamma. But for him you would nolonger have any thing; and the condition of your uncle, the Emperor, would be more unhappy. '

"'We ought, then, to love this Emperor, ought we?'

"'Yes, certainly, ' was the reply; 'for you owe him your gratitude. '

"The next time the Emperor Alexander called upon Hortense, little LouisNapoleon, who was naturally very retiring and reticent, took a ringwhich his uncle Eugene had given him, and, stealing timidly over toAlexander, slipped the ring into his hand, and, half frightened, ranaway with all speed. Hortense called the child to her, and asked himwhat he had done. Blushing deeply, the warm-hearted boy said:

"'I have nothing but the ring. I wanted to give it to the Emperor, because he is good to my mamma. '

"Alexander cordially embraced the prince, and, putting the ring upon hiswatch-chain, promised that he would always wear it. "

The remains of Napoleon Charles, who had died in Holland, had beendeposited, by direction of Napoleon, in the vaults of St. Denis, theancient burial-place of the kings of France. So great was the jealousyof the Bourbons of the name of Napoleon, and so unwilling were they torecognize in any way the right of the people to elect their ownsovereign, that the government of Louis XVIII. Ordered the body to beimmediately removed. Hortense transferred the remains of her child tothe church of St. Leu. 

Notwithstanding this jealousy, Alexander and the King of Prussia couldnot ignore the imperial character of Napoleon, whose government they hadrecognized, and with whom they had exchanged ambassadors and formedtreaties: neither could they deny that the King of Holland had won acrown recognized by all Europe. They and the other crowned heads, whopaid their respects to Hortense, in accordance with the etiquette ofcourts, invariably addressed each of the princes as _Your RoyalHighness_. Hortense had not accustomed them to this homage. She hadalways addressed the eldest as Napoleon, the youngest as Louis. It washer endeavor to impress them with the idea that they could be nothingmore than their characters entitled them to be. But after this, when theBourbon Government assumed that Napoleon was an usurper, and thatpopular suffrage could give no validity to the crown, then did Hortense, in imitation of Napoleon at St. Helena, firmly resist the insolence. Then did she teach her children that they were princes, that they wereentitled to the throne of France by the highest of all earthlyauthority--the almost unanimous voice of the French people--and that theBourbons, trampling popular rights beneath their feet, and ascending thethrone through the power of foreign bayonets, were usurpers. 

[Illustration: HORTENSE AND HER CHILDREN. ]

Madame Cochelet, the reader of Queen Hortense, writes, in herinteresting memoirs: "I have often seen her take her two boys on herknees, and talk with them in order to form their ideas. It was a curiousconversation to listen to, in those days of the splendors of the empire, when those children were the heirs of so many crowns, which the Emperorwas distributing to his brothers, his officers, his allies. Havingquestioned them on every thing they knew already, she passed in reviewwhatever they should know besides, if they were to rely upon their ownresources for a livelihood. 

"'Suppose you had no money, ' said Hortense to the eldest, 'and were alonein the world, what would you do, Napoleon, to support yourself?'

"'I would become a soldier, ' was the reply, 'and would fight so well thatI should soon be made an officer. '

"'And Louis, ' she inquired of the younger, 'how would you provide foryourself?'

"The little prince, who was then but about five years old, had listenedvery thoughtfully to all that was said. Knowing that the gun and theknapsack were altogether beyond his strength, he replied:

"'I would sell violet bouquets, like the little boy at the gate of theTuileries, from whom we purchase them every day. '"

The boy is father of the man. Such has been Louis Napoleon from thathour to this; the quiet student--hating war, loving peace--all devotedto the arts of utility and of beauty. He has been the great pacificatorof Europe. But for his unwearied efforts, the Continent would have beenagain and again in a blaze of war. As all present at this conversationsmiled, in view of the unambitious projects of the prince, Hortensereplied:

"This is one of my lessons. The misfortune of princes born on the throneis that they think every thing is their due; that they are formed of adifferent nature from other men, and therefore never feel under anyobligations to them. They are ignorant of human miseries, or thinkthemselves beyond their reach. Thus, when misfortunes come, they aresurprised, terrified, and always remain sunk below their destinies. "

The Allies retired, with their conquering armies. Hortense remained withher children in Paris. Louis Bonaparte, sick and dejected, took up hisresidence in Italy. He demanded the children. A mother's love clung tothem with tenacity which could not be relaxed. There was an appeal tothe courts. Hortense employed the most eminent counsel to plead hercause. Eleven months passed away from the time of the abdication; andupon the very day when the court rendered its decision, that the fathershould have the eldest child, and the mother the youngest, Napoleonlanded at Cannes, and commenced his almost miraculous march to Paris. The sublime transactions of the "One Hundred Days" caused all otherevents, for a time, to be forgotten. 

Hortense was at the Tuileries, one of the first to greet the Emperor ashe was borne in triumph, upon the shoulders of the people, up the grandstaircase. "Sire, " said Hortense, "I had a presentiment that you wouldreturn, and I waited for you here. " The Allies had robbed the Emperor ofhis son, and the child was a prisoner with his mother in the palaces ofVienna. Very cordially Napoleon received his two nephews, and kept themcontinually near him. With characteristic devotion to the principle ofuniversal suffrage, Napoleon submitted the question of his re-electionto the throne of the empire to the French people. More than a million ofvotes over all other parties responded in the affirmative. 

On the first of June, 1815, the Emperor was reinaugurated on the fieldof Mars, and the eagles were restored to the banners. It was one of themost imposing pageants Paris had ever witnessed. Hundreds of thousandscrowded that magnificent parade-ground. As the Emperor presented theeagles to the army, a roar as of reverberating thunder swept along thelines. By the side of the Emperor, upon the platform, sat his two youngnephews. He presented them separately to the departments and the army asin the direct line of inheritance. This scene must have produced aprofound impression upon the younger child, Louis Napoleon, who was sothoughtful, reflective, and pensive. 

In the absence of Maria Louisa, who no longer had her liberty, Hortensepresided at the Tuileries. Inheriting the spirit of her mother, she wasunfailing in deeds of kindness to the many Royalists who were againruined by the return of Napoleon. Her audience-chamber was ever crowdedby those who, through her, sought to obtain access to the ear of theEmperor. Napoleon was overwhelmed by too many public cares to give muchpersonal attention to private interests. 

The evening before Napoleon left his cabinet for his last campaign, which resulted in the disaster at Waterloo, he was in his cabinetconversing with Marshal Soult. The door was gently opened, and littleLouis Napoleon crept silently into the apartment. His features wereswollen with an expression of the profoundest grief, which he seemed tobe struggling in vain to repress. Tremblingly he approached the Emperor, and, throwing himself upon his knees, buried his face in his two handsin the Emperor's lap, and burst into a flood of tears. 

"What is the matter, Louis?" said the Emperor, kindly; "why do youinterrupt me, and why do you weep so?"

The young prince was so overcome with emotion that for some time hecould not utter a syllable. At last, in words interrupted by sobs, hesaid, "Sire, my governess has told me that you are going away to the war. Oh!do not go! do not go!"

The Emperor, much moved, passed his fingers through the clusteringringlets of the child, and said, tenderly, "My child, this is not the first time that I have been to the war. Whyare you so afflicted? Do not fear for me. I shall soon come backagain. "

"Oh! my dear uncle, " exclaimed the child, weeping convulsively; "thosewicked Allies wish to kill you. Let me go with you, dear uncle, let mego with you!"

The Emperor made no reply, but, taking Louis Napoleon upon his knee, pressed him to his heart with much apparent emotion. Then callingHortense, the mother of the child, he said to her:

"Take away my nephew, Hortense, and reprimand his governess, who, by herinconsiderate words, has so deeply excited his sympathies. "

Then, after a few affectionate words addressed to the young prince, hewas about to hand him to his mother, when he perceived that MarshalSoult was much moved by the scene. 

"Embrace the child, Marshal, " said the Emperor; "he has a warm heart anda noble soul. _Perhaps he is to be the hope of my race!_"

Napoleon returned from the disaster at Waterloo with all his hopesblighted. Hortense hastened to meet him, and to unite her fate with his. "It is my duty, " she said. "The Emperor has always treated me as hischild, and I will try, in return, to be his devoted and gratefuldaughter. " In conversation with Hortense, Napoleon remarked: "Givemyself up to Austria! Never. She has seized upon my wife and my son. Give myself up to Russia! That would be to a single man. But to givemyself up to England, that would be to throw myself upon a _people_. "His friends assured him that, though he might rely upon the honor of theBritish _people_, he could not trust to the British _Government_. Hortense repaired to Malmaison with her two sons, where the Emperor soonrejoined her. "She restrained her own tears, " writes Baron Fleury, "reminding us, with the wisdom of a philosopher and the sweetness of anangel, that we ought to surmount our sorrows and regrets, and submitwith docility to the decrees of Providence. "

It was necessary for Napoleon to come to a prompt decision. The Alliesnow nearly surrounded Paris. On the 29th of June the Emperor sat in hislibrary at Malmaison, exhausted with care and grief. Hortense, thoughwith swollen eyes and a heart throbbing with anguish, did every thingwhich a daughter's love could suggest to minister to the solace of herafflicted father. Just before his departure to Rochefort, where heintended to embark for some foreign land, he called for his nephews, totake leave of them. It was a very affecting scene. Both of the childrenwept bitterly. The soul of the little, pensive Louis Napoleon wasstirred to its utmost depths. He clung frantically to his uncle, screaming and insisting that he should go and "fire off the cannon!" Itwas necessary to take him away by force. 

"The Emperor was departing almost without money. Hortense, after manyentreaties, succeeded in making him accept her beautiful necklace, valued at eight hundred thousand francs. She sewed it up in a silkribbon, which he concealed in his dress. He did not, however, findhimself obliged to part with this jewel till on his death-bed, when heintrusted it to Count Montholon, with orders to restore it to Hortense. This devoted man acquitted himself successfully of this commission. "[H]

[Footnote H: Life of Napoleon III. , by Edward Roth. ]

Upon the departure of Napoleon, Hortense, with her children, returned toParis. She was entreated by her friends to seek refuge in the interiorof France, as the Royalists were much exasperated against her inconsequence of her reception of the Emperor. They assured her that thearmy and the people would rally around her and her children as therepresentatives of the Empire. But Hortense replied:

"I must now undergo whatever fortune has in store for me. I am nothingnow. I can not pretend to make the people think that I rally the troopsaround me. If I had been Empress of France, I would have done everything to prolong the defense. But now it does not become me to mingle mydestinies with such great interests, and I must be resigned. "

In a few days the allied armies were again in possession of Paris. TheRoyalists assumed so threatening an attitude towards her, that she feltgreat solicitude for the safety of her children. Many persons kindlyoffered to give them shelter. But she was unwilling to compromise herfriends by receiving from them such marks of attention. A kind-heartedwoman, by the name of Madame Tessier, kept a hose establishment on theBoulevard Montmartre. The children were intrusted to her care, wherethey would be concealed from observation, and where they would still beperfectly comfortable. 

Hortense had her residence in a hotel on the Rue Cerutti. The AustrianPrince Schwartzenberg occupied the same hotel, and Hortense hoped thatthis circumstance would add to her security. But the Allies were nowgreatly exasperated against the French people, who had so cordiallyreceived the Emperor on his return from Elba. Even the Emperor Alexandertreated Hortense with marked coldness. He called upon PrinceSchwartzenberg without making any inquiries for her. 

The hostility of the Allies towards this unfortunate lady was so great, that on the 19th of July Baron de Muffling, who commanded Paris for theAllies, received an order to notify the Duchess of St. Leu that she mustleave Paris within two hours. An escort of troops was offered her, whichamounted merely to an armed guard, to secure her departure and to markher retreat. As Hortense left Paris for exile, she wrote a few hurriedlines to a friend, in which she said:

"I have been obliged to quit Paris, having been positively expelled fromit by the allied armies. So greatly am I, a feeble woman, with her twochildren, dreaded, that the enemy's troops are posted all along ourroute, as they say, to protect our passage, but in reality to insure ourdeparture. "

Prince Schwartzenberg, who felt much sympathy for Hortense, accompaniedher, as a companion and a protector, on her journey to the frontiers ofFrance. Little Louis Napoleon, though then but seven years of age, seemed fully to comprehend the disaster which had overwhelmed them, andthat they were banished from their native land. With intelligence farabove his years he conversed with his mother, and she found greatdifficulty in consoling him. It was through the influence of suchterrible scenes as these that the character of that remarkable man hasbeen formed. 

It was nine o'clock in the evening when Hortense and her two littleboys, accompanied by Prince Schwartzenberg, reached the Chateau deBercy, where they passed the night. The next morning the journey wasresumed towards the frontiers. It was the intention of Hortense to takerefuge in a very retired country-seat which she owned at Pregny, inSwitzerland, near Geneva. At some points on her journey the Royalistsassailed her with reproaches. Again she was cheered by loudly-expressedmanifestations of the sympathy and affection of the people. At Dijon themultitude crowding around her carriage, supposing that she was beingconveyed into captivity, gallantly attempted a rescue. They were onlyappeased by the assurance of Hortense that she was under the protectionof a friend. 

Scarcely had this melancholy wanderer entered upon her residence atPregny, with the title of the Duchess of St. Leu, ere the Frenchminister in Switzerland commanded the Swiss government to issue an orderexpelling her from the Swiss territory. Switzerland could not safelydisregard the mandate of the Bourbons of France, who were sustained intheir enthronement by allied Europe. Thus pursued by the foes of theEmpire, Hortense repaired to Aix, in Savoy. Here she met a cordialwelcome. The people remembered her frequent visits to those celebratedsprings, her multiplied charities, and here still stood, as anever-during memorial of her kindness of heart, the hospital which shehad founded and so munificently endowed. The magistrates at Aix formallyinvited her to remain at Aix so long as the Allied powers would allowher to make that place her residence. 

It seemed as though Hortense were destined to drain the cup of sorrow toits dregs. Aix was the scene of the dreadful death of Madame Broc, which we have above described. Every thing around her reminded her ofthat terrible calamity, and oppressed her spirits with the deepestgloom. And, to add unutterably to her anguish, an agent arrived at Aixfrom her husband, Louis Bonaparte, furnished with all competent legalpowers to take custody of the eldest child and convey him to his fatherin Italy. It will be remembered that the court had decided that thefather should have the eldest and the mother the youngest child. Thestormy events of the "Hundred Days" had interrupted all proceedings uponthis matter. 

This separation was a terrible trial not only to the mother, but to thetwo boys. The peculiarities of their dispositions and temperamentsfitted them to assimilate admirably together. Napoleon Louis, the elder, was bold, resolute, high-spirited. Louis Napoleon, the younger, wasgentle, thoughtful, and pensive. The parting was very affecting--LouisNapoleon throwing his arms around his elder brother, and weeping asthough his heart would break. The thoughtful child, thus companionless, now turned to his mother with the full flow of his affectionate nature. A French writer, speaking of these scenes, says:

"The soul of Hortense had been already steeped in misfortune, but herpower of endurance seemed at length exhausted. When she had embraced herson for the last time, and beheld the carriage depart which bore himaway, a deep despondency overwhelmed her spirits. Her very existencebecame a dream; and it seemed a matter of indifference to her whetherher lot was to enjoy or to suffer, to be persecuted, respected, orforgotten. "

And now came another blow upon the bewildered brain and throbbing heartof Hortense. The Allies did not deem it safe to allow Hortense and herchild to reside so near the frontiers of France. They knew that theFrench people detested the Bourbons. They knew that all France, upon thefirst favorable opportunity, would rise in the attempt to re-establishthe Empire. The Sardinian government was accordingly ordered to expelHortense from Savoy. Where should she go? It seemed as though all Europewould refuse a home to this bereaved, heart-broken lady and her child. She remembered her cousin, Stephanie Beauharnais, her schoolmate, whomher mother and Napoleon had so kindly sheltered and provided for in thedays when the Royalists were in exile. Stephanie was the lady to whomher father had been so tenderly attached. She was now in prosperity andpower, the wife of the Grand Duke of Baden. Hortense decided to seek aresidence at Constance, in the territory of Baden, persuaded that theduke and duchess would not drive her, homeless and friendless, fromtheir soil, out again into the stormy world. 

To reach Baden it was necessary to pass through Switzerland. The Swissgovernment, awed by France, at first refused to give her permission totraverse their territory. But the Duke of Richelieu intervened in herfavor, and, by remonstrating against such cruelty, obtained thenecessary passport. It was now the month of November. Cold storms sweptthe snow-clad hills and the valleys. Hortense departed from Aix, takingwith her her son Louis Napoleon, his private tutor, the Abbé Bertrand, her reader, Mademoiselle Cochelet, and an attendant. She wished to spendthe first night at her own house, at Pregny; but even this slightgratification was forbidden her. 

The police were instructed to watch her carefully all the way. At Moratshe was even arrested, and detained a prisoner two days, untilinstructions should be received from the distant authorities. At lastshe reached the city of Constance. But even here she found that hersorrows had not yet terminated. Neither the Duke of Baden nor theDuchess ventured to welcome her. On the contrary, immediately upon herarrival, she received an official notification that, however anxious thegrand duke and duchess might be to afford her hospitable shelter, theywere under the control of higher powers, and they must therefore requesther to leave the duchy without delay. It was now intimated that the onlycountries in Europe which would be allowed to afford her a shelter wereAustria, Prussia, or Russia. 

The storms of winter were sweeping those northern latitudes. The healthof Hortense was extremely frail. She was fatherless and motherless, alienated from her husband, bereaved of one of her children, and all herfamily friends dispersed by the ban of exile. She had no kind friends toconsult, and she knew not which way to turn. Thus distracted andcrushed, she wrote an imploring letter to her cousins, the Duke andDuchess of Baden, stating the feeble condition of her health, theinclement weather, her utter friendlessness, and exhaustion fromfatigue and sorrow, and begging permission to remain in Constance untilthe ensuing spring. 

In reply she received a private letter from the grand duchess, hercousin Stephanie, assuring her of her sympathy, and of the cordialitywith which she would openly receive and welcome her, if she did but dareto do so. In conclusion, the duchess wrote: "Have patience, and do notbe uneasy. Perhaps all will be right by spring. By that time passionswill be calmed, and many things will have been forgotten. "

Though this letter did not give any positive permission to remain, itseemed at least to imply that soldiers would not be sent to transporther, by violence, out of the territory. Somewhat cheered by thisassurance, she rented a small house, in a very retired situation uponthe western shore of the Lake of Constance. Though in the disasters ofthe times she had lost much property, she still had an ample competence. Her beloved brother, Eugene, it will be remembered, had married adaughter of the King of Bavaria. He was one of the noblest of men andthe best of brothers. As soon as possible, he took up his residence nearhis sister. He also was in the enjoyment of an ample fortune. Thusthere seemed to be for a short time a lull in those angry storms whichfor so long had risen dark over the way of Hortense. 

In this distant and secluded home, upon the borders of the lake, Hortense and her small harmonious household passed the winter of 1815. Though she mourned over the absence of her elder child, little LouisNapoleon cheered her by his bright intelligence and his intenseaffectionateness. Prince Eugene often visited his sister; and many ofthe illustrious generals and civilians, who during the glories of theEmpire had filled Europe with their renown, were allured as occasionalguests to the home of this lovely woman, who had shared with them in thefavors and the rebuffs of fortune. 

Hortense devoted herself assiduously to the education of her son. Sheunderstood thoroughly the political position of France. Foreigners, withimmense armies, had invaded the kingdom, and forced upon the reluctantpeople a detested dynasty. Napoleon was Emperor by popular election. Thepeople still, with almost entire unanimity, desired the Empire. AndHortense knew full well that, so soon as the French people could getstrength to break the chains with which foreign armies had bound them, they would again drive out the Bourbons and re-establish the Empire. 

Hortense consequently never allowed her son to forget the name he bore, or the political principles which his uncle, the Emperor, had borne uponhis banners throughout Europe. The subsequent life of this child hasproved how deep was the impression produced upon his mind, as pensively, silently he listened to the conversation of the statesmen and thegenerals who often visited his mother's parlor. Lady Blessington aboutthis time visited Hortense, and she gives the following account of theimpression which the visit produced upon her mind:

"Though prepared to meet in Hortense Bonaparte, ex-Queen of Holland, awoman possessed of no ordinary powers of captivation, she has, Iconfess, far exceeded my expectations. I have seen her frequently, andspent two hours yesterday in her society. Never did time fly away withgreater rapidity than while listening to her conversation, and hearingher sing those charming little French _romances_, written and composedby herself, which, though I had often admired them, never previouslystruck me as being so expressive and graceful as they now proved to be. 

"I know not that I ever encountered a person with so fine a tact or soquick an apprehension as the Duchess of St. Leu. These give her thepower of rapidly forming an appreciation of those with whom she comes incontact, and of suiting the subjects of conversation to their tastes andcomprehensions. Thus, with the grave she is serious, with the livelygay, and with the scientific she only permits just a sufficient extentof her _savoir_ to be revealed to encourage the development of theirs. 

"She is, in fact, all things to all men, without losing a single portionof her own natural character; a peculiarity of which seems to be thedesire, as well as the power, of sending all away who approach hersatisfied with themselves and delighted with her. Yet there is nounworthy concession of opinions made, or tacit acquiescence yielded, toconciliate popularity. She assents to or dissents from the sentiments ofothers with a mildness and good sense which gratifies those with whomshe coincides, or disarms those from whom she differs. "

CHAPTER VIII. 

PEACEFUL DAYS, YET SAD. 

1816-1831

Visits the Baths of Geiss. --Watchfulness of the Allies. --The retreat ofArenemberg. --The princes enter college. --Loveliness of Hortense. --Letterfrom a visitor. --Social life at Arenemberg. --Scenery atArenemberg. --Pleasant neighbors. --An evening scene. --Theatricentertainments. --Taste and culture. --Accomplishments ofHortense. --Society at Arenemberg. --Amiability of Hortense. --The cityhome of Hortense and her son. --Testimony of an English lady. --TheDuchess of St. Leu. --Pursuits of Prince Louis. --Madame Récamier meetsHortense. --Interview with Madame Récamier. --Arrangements formeeting. --Difficulty between Napoleon and Madame Récamier. --Banishmentof Madame de Staël. --Cause of Madame Récamier's banishment. --She returnsto Paris. --Hortense exiled. --Interview at the Coliseum. --Subsequentmeetings. --Letter from Hortense. --Disgrace of Chateaubriand. --Revolutionin France. --Attempt of the Italian patriots. --Escape of LouisNapoleon. --They seek refuge in France. --The vicissitudes oflife. --Obligations of Louis Philippe to Hortense. --The Duchess ofBourbon. --Letter to Hortense. 

As the spring of the year 1816 opened upon Europe, Hortense was foundresiding undisturbed, with her son, Louis Napoleon, in their secludedhome upon the shores of Lake Constance. The Allies seemed no longerdisposed to disturb her. Still, she had many indications that she wasnarrowly watched. She was much cheered by a visit which she made to herbrother at Berg, on the Wurmsee, where she was received with that warmthof affection which her wounded heart so deeply craved. Her health beingstill very frail, she, by the advice of her physicians, spent the heatof summer at the baths of Geiss, among the mountains of Appenzell. Herson, Louis Napoleon, was constantly with her. Nearly the whole attentionof the mother was devoted to his education. 

She had the general superintendence of all his studies, teaching himherself drawing and dancing, often listening to his recitations andguiding his reading. Her own highly-cultivated mind enabled her to dothis to great advantage. The young prince read aloud to his mother inthe evenings, the selections being regulated in accordance with hisstudies in geography or history. Saturday Hortense devoted the entireday to her son, reviewing all the reading and studies of the week. Inaddition to the Abbé Bertrand, another teacher was employed, M. Lebas, ayoung professor of much distinction from the Normal School of Paris. 

Thus the summer and autumn of 1816 passed tranquilly away. But the eagleeye of the Bourbons was continually upon Hortense. They watched everymovement she made, she could not leave her home, or receive a visit fromany distinguished stranger, without exciting their alarm. Theiruneasiness at length became so great that, early in the year 1817, theDuke of Baden received peremptory orders that he must immediately expelHortense and her child from his territory. The Bourbons could not allowsuch dangerous personages to dwell so near the frontiers of France. Hortense was a feeble, heart-broken woman. Her child was but eight yearsof age. But they were representatives of the Empire. And the Bourbonswere ever terror-stricken lest the French people should rise ininsurrection, and demand the restoration of that Empire, of whichforeign armies had robbed them. 

In the extreme north-eastern portion of Switzerland, on the southernshores of the Lake of Constance, there was the small Swiss canton ofThurgovia. The gallant magistrates of the canton informed Hortense thatif she wished to establish herself in their country, she should beprotected by both the magistrates and the people. The ex-queen hadoccasionally entered the canton in her drives, and had observed withadmiration a modest but very beautiful chateau called Arenemberg, verypicturesquely located on the borders of the lake. She purchased theestate for about sixty thousand francs. This became a very delightfulsummer residence, though in winter it presented a bleak exposure, sweptby piercing winds. Until the death of Hortense, Arenemberg continued tobe her favorite place of residence. 

To add to this transient gleam of happiness, there was now a partialreconciliation between Hortense and her husband; and, to the unspeakablejoy of the mother and Louis Napoleon, they enjoyed a visit of severalmonths from Napoleon Louis. It is not easy to imagine the happinesswhich this reunion created, after a separation of nearly three years. 

The judicious mother now thought it important that her sons should enjoythe advantages of a more public education than that which they had beenreceiving from private tutors at home. She accordingly took them both toAugsburg, in Bavaria, where they entered the celebrated college of thatcity. Hortense engaged a handsome residence there, that she might stillbe with her sons, whom she loved so tenderly. A French gentleman ofdistinction, travelling in that region, had the honor of an introductionto her, and gives the following account of his visit:

"Returning to France in 1819, after a long residence in Russia, Istopped at Augsburg, where the Duchess of St. Leu was then a resident. Ihad hitherto only known her by report. Some Russian officers, who hadaccompanied the Emperor Alexander to Malmaison in 1814, had spoken to meof Hortense with so much enthusiasm, that for the first few moments itappeared as if I saw her again after a long absence, and as if I owed mykind reception to the ties of ancient friendship. Every thing about heris in exact harmony with the angelic expression of her face, herconversation, demeanor, and the sweetness of her voice and disposition. 

"When she speaks of an affecting incident, the language becomes moretouching through the depths of her sensibility. She lends so much lifeto every scene, that the auditor becomes witness of the transaction. Herpowers of instructing and delighting are almost magical; and her artlessfascination leaves on every heart those deep traces which even time cannever efface. 

"She introduced me to her private circle, which consisted of the twochildren and their tutors, some old officers of her household, twofemale friends of her infancy, and that living monument of conjugaldevotion, Count Lavallette. [I] The conversation soon became general. They questioned me about the Ukraine, where I long had resided, andGreece and Turkey, through which I had lately travelled. 

[Footnote I: Count Lavallette was one of the devoted friends ofNapoleon, who had long served in the armies of the Empire. For thewelcome he gave Napoleon on his return from Elba he was doomed, by theBourbons, to death. While preparations were being made for hisexecution, his wife and daughter, with her governess, were permitted tovisit him. Very adroitly he escaped in his wife's clothes, she remainingin his place. Irritated by this escape, the Government held his wife aprisoner until she became a confirmed lunatic. ]

"In return, they spoke of Bavaria, St. Leu, the Lake of Constance, and, by degrees, of events deriving their chief interest from the importantparts played by the narrators themselves. We dined at five. I afterwardsaccompanied the duchess into the garden, and, in the few moments thenenjoyed of intimate conversation, I saw that no past praises had everbeen exaggerated. How admirable were her feelings when she recalled thedeath of her mother, and in her tragic recital of the death of MadameBroc. 

"But when she spoke of her children, her friends, and the fine arts, herwhole figure seemed to glow with the ardor of her imagination. Goodnessof heart was displayed in every feature, and gave additional value toher other estimable qualities. In describing her present situation itwas impossible to avoid mentioning her beloved France. 

"'You are returning, ' said she, 'to your native country;' and the lastword was pronounced with a heartfelt sigh. I had been an exile from mycradle, yet my own eager anxiety to revisit a birth-place scarcelyremembered, enabled me to estimate her grief at the thoughts of aneternal separation. She spoke of the measures adopted for her banishmentwith that true resignation which mourns but never murmurs. After twohours of similar conversation, it was impossible to decide which was themost admirable, her heart, her good sense, or her imagination. 

"We returned to the drawing-room at eight, where tea was served. Theduchess observed that this was a habit learned in Holland, 'though youare not to suppose, ' she added, with a slight blush, 'that it ispreserved as a remembrance of days so brilliant, but now already sodistant. Tea is the drink of cold climates, and I have scarcely changedmy temperature. '

"Numerous visitors came from the neighborhood, and some even fromMunich. She may, indeed, regard this attention with a feeling of proudgratification. It is based upon esteem alone, and is far more honorablethan the tiresome adulation of sycophants while at St. Cloud or theHague. In the course of the evening we looked through a suite of roomscontaining, besides a few master-pieces of the different schools, alarge collection of precious curiosities. Many of these elegant trifleshad once belonged to her mother; and nearly every one was associatedwith the remembrance of some distinguished personage or celebratedevent. Indeed, her museum might almost be called an abridgment ofcontemporary history. Music was the next amusement; and the duchesssang, accompanying herself with the same correct taste which inspiresher compositions. She had just finished the series of drawings intendedto illustrate her collection of _romances_. How could I avoid praisingthat happy talent which thus personifies thought? The next day Ireceived that beautiful collection as a remembrance. 

"I took my leave at midnight, perhaps without even the hope of anothermeeting. I left her as the traveller parts from the flowers of thedesert, to which he can never hope to return. But, wherever time, accident, or destiny may place me, the remembrance of that day willremain indelibly imprinted alike on my memory and heart. It is pleasingto pay homage to the fallen greatness of one like Hortense, who joinsthe rare gift of talents to the charms of the tenderest sensibility. "

[Illustration: HORTENSE AT ARENEMBERG. ]

The residence of Hortense in Augsburg was in a mansion, since calledPappenheim Palace, in Holy Cross Street. After the graduation of herchildren, Hortense, with Louis Napoleon, spent most of their time atArenemberg, interspersed with visits to Rome and Florence. The beautifulchateau was situated upon a swell of land, with green lawns and a thickgrowth of forest trees, through which there were enchanting views of themountain and of the lake. The spacious grounds were embellished with thehighest artistic skill, with terraces, trellis-work woodbines, and rareexotics. 

"The views, " writes an English visitor, "which were in some placesafforded through the woods, and in others, by their rapid descent, carried over them, were broken in a manner which represented them doublybeautiful. From one peep you caught the small vine-clad island ofReichman, with its cottage gleams trembling upon the twilighted lake. From another you had a noble reach of the Rhine, going forth from itsbrief resting-place to battle its way down the Falls of Schaffhausen;and beyond it the eye reposed upon the distant outline of the BlackForest, melting warmly in the west. In a third direction you saw thevapory steeples of Constance, apparently sinking in the waters whichalmost surrounded them; and far away you distinguish the little coastvillages, like fading constellations, glimmering fainter and fainter, till land and lake and sky were blended together in obscurity. "

Not far distant was the imposing chateau of Wolfberg, which had beenpurchased by General Parguin, a young French officer of the Empire ofmuch distinction. He had married Mademoiselle Cochelet, and became oneof the most intimate friends of Louis Napoleon. 

Prince Eugene had also built him a house in the vicinity, that he mightbe near his sister and share her solitude. Just as the house wasfinished, and before he moved into it, Eugene died. This was anothercrushing blow to the heart of Hortense. She was in Rome at the time, andwe shall have occasion to refer to the event again. 

Hortense, in her retirement, was no less a queen than when the diademwas upon her brow. Though at the farthest possible remove from allaristocratic pride, her superior mind, her extraordinary attainments, and her queenly grace and dignity, invested her with no less influenceover the hearts of her friends than she enjoyed in her days of regalpower. A visitor at Wolfberg, in the following language, describes acall which Hortense made upon Madame Parguin and her guests at thechateau:

"One fine evening, as we were all distributed about the lawn atWolfberg, there was an alarm that Hortense was coming to visit MadameParguin. As I saw her winding slowly up the hill, with all her company, in three little summer carriages, the elegance of the cavalcade, inscenes where elegance was so rare, was exceedingly striking. 

"The appearance of Hortense was such as could not fail to exciteadmiration and kind feeling. Her countenance was full of talent, blendedwith the mild expression of a perfect gentlewoman. Her figure, thoughnot beyond the middle height, was of a mould altogether majestic. Shelamented that she had not sooner known of the purposed length of ourstay in that part of Switzerland, as, having conceived that we weremerely passing a few days, she had been unwilling to occupy our time. She then spoke of her regret at not being able to entertain usaccording to her wishes. And, finally, she told us that she had inagitation some little theatricals which, if we could bear with suchtrifles, we should do her pleasure in attending. All this was said withsimple and winning eloquence. "

The room for this little theatric entertainment was in a small building, beautifully decorated, near the house. Many distinguished guests werepresent; many from Constance; so that the apartment was crowded to itsutmost capacity. There were two short plays enacted. In one Hortensetook a leading part in scenes of trial and sorrow, in which her peculiarpowers were admirably displayed. Even making all suitable allowance forthe politeness due from guests to their host, it is evident thatHortense possessed dramatic talent of a very high order. 

From the theatre the guests returned to the chateau, where preparationshad been made for dancing. In the intervals between the dances there wassinging, accompanied by the piano. "Here, again, " writes one of theguests, "Hortense was perfectly at home. She sang several songs, ofwhich I afterwards found her to be the unacknowledged composer. Amongthese was the beautiful air, _Partant pour la Syrie_, which will be afair guaranty that I do not say too much for the rest. "

At the close of the evening, as the guests began to depart, theremainder were dispersed through the suite of rooms, admiring thevarious objects of curiosity and of beauty with which they aredecorated. There were some beautiful paintings, and several pieces ofexquisite statuary. Upon the tables there were engravings, drawing-books, and works of _belles-lettres_. 

"I chanced, " writes the visitor from whom we have above quoted, "toplace my hand upon a splendid album, and had the further good-fortune toseat myself beside a beautiful young _dame de compagnie_ of the duchess, who gave me the history of all the treasures I found therein. Whatever Ifound most remarkable was still the work of Hortense. Of a series ofsmall portraits, sketched by her in colors, the likeness of those ofwhich I had seen the subjects would have struck me, though turned upsidedown. She had the same power and the same affectionate feeling forfixing the remembrance of places likewise. 

"The landscapes which she had loved in forbidden France, even theapartments which she had inhabited, were executed in a manner that putto shame the best amateur performances I had ever seen. There was aminute attention to fidelity in them, too, which a recollection of herpresent circumstances could not fail to bring home to the spectator'sheart. 

"I know not when my interest would have cooled in this mansion of tasteand talent. Towards morning I was obliged to take my leave; and I doubtif there were any individual who returned home by that bright moonlight, without feeling that Hortense had been born some century and a half toolate. For an age of bigots and turncoats she, indeed, seemed unsuited. In that of true poetry and trusty cavaliers, she would have been thesubject of the best rhymes and rencontres in romantic France. 

"After this I saw her frequently, both at her own house and at Wolfberg, and I never found any thing to destroy the impression which I receivedon my introduction. Independently of the interest attached to herself, she had always in her company some person who had made a noise in theworld, and had become an object of curiosity. At one time it was adistinguished painter or poet; again, it was a battered soldier, whopreferred resting in retirement to the imputation of changing hispolitics for advancement; then a grand duke or duchess who had undergoneas many vicissitudes as herself; and, finally, the widow of theunfortunate Marshal Ney. 

"There was something in the last of these characters, particularly whenassociated with Hortense, more interesting than all the others. She wasa handsome, but grave and silent woman, and still clad in mourning forher husband, whose death, so connected with the banishment of theduchess, could not fail to render them deeply sympathetic in eachother's fortunes. The amusements provided for all this company consistedof such as I have mentioned--expeditions to various beautiful spots inthe neighborhood, and music parties on the water. The last of these usedsometimes to have a peculiarly romantic effect; for on _fête_ days theyoung peasant girls, all glittering in their golden tinsel bonnets, would push off with their sweethearts, like mad things, in whateverboats they could find upon the beach. I have seen them paddling theirlittle fleet round the duchess's boat with all the curiosity of savagesround a man-of-war. 

"At length the time arrived for me to bid adieu to Switzerland. It wasarranged that I should set out for Italy with a small party of myWolfberg friends. An evening or two before we departed we paid aleave-taking visit to the duchess. She expressed much polite regret atour intention, and gave us a cordial invitation to renew ouracquaintance with her in the winter at Rome. Her care, indeed, to leavea good impression of her friendly disposition upon our minds, wasexceedingly gratifying. She professed to take an interest in the planswhich each of us had formed, and, when her experience qualified her, gave us instructions for our travels. 

"When we rose to depart, the night being fine, she volunteered to walkpart of the way home with us. She came about a quarter of a mile towhere she could command an uninterrupted view of the lake, above whichthe moon was just then rising, a huge red orb which shot a burningcolumn to her feet. 'I will now bid you adieu, ' she said; and we lefther to the calm contemplation of grandeur which could not fade, andenjoyments which could not betray. This was the last time I saw, andperhaps shall ever see Hortense; but I shall always remember my briefacquaintance with her as a dip into days which gave her country thecharacter of being the most polished of nations. "

Hortense, with her son Louis Napoleon, had been in the habit of passingthe severity of the winter months in the cities of Augsburg or Munich, spending about eight months of the year at Arenemberg. But after thedeath of her brother Eugene, the associations which those citiesrecalled were so painful that she transferred her winter residence toRome or Florence. An English lady who visited her at Arenemberg writes:

"The style of living of the Duchess of St. Leu is sumptuous, withoutthat freezing etiquette so commonly met with in the great. Her householdstill call her _Queen_, and her son _Prince_ Napoleon or _Prince_ Louis. The suite is composed of two ladies of honor, an equerry, and the tutorof her younger son. She has a numerous train of domestics, and it isamong them that the traces are still observable of bygone pretensions, long since abandoned by the true nobleness of their mistress. The formerqueen, the daughter of Napoleon, the mother of the Imperialheir-apparent, has returned quietly to private life with the perfectgrace of a voluntary sacrifice. 

"The duchess receives strangers with inexpressible kindness. Everamiable and obliging, she is endowed with that charming simplicity whichinspires, at first sight, the confidence of intimate affection. Shespeaks freely of the brilliant days of her prosperity. And history thenflows so naturally from her lips, that more may be learned as adelighted listener, than from all the false or exaggerated works soabundant everywhere. The deposed queen considers past events from suchan eminence that nothing can interpose itself between her and the truth. This strict impartiality gives birth to that true greatness, which is athousand times preferable to all the splendors she lost in the flower ofher age. 

"I have been admitted to the intimacy of the Duchess of St. Leu, both atRome and in the country. I have seen her roused to enthusiasm by thebeauties of nature, and have seen her surrounded by the pomp ofceremony; but I have never known her less than herself; nor has theinterest first inspired by her character ever been diminished by anundignified sentiment or the slightest selfish reflection. 

"It is impossible to be a more ardent and tasteful admirer of the finearts than is the duchess. Every one has heard her beautiful _romances_, which are rendered still more touching by the soft and melodious voiceof the composer. She usually sings standing; and, although a finishedperformer on the harp and piano, she prefers the accompaniment of one ofher attendant ladies. Many of her leisure hours are employed inpainting. Miniatures, landscapes, and flowers are equally the subjectsof her pencil. She declaims well, is a delightful player in comedy, actsproverbs with uncommon excellence, and I really know no one who cansurpass her in every kind of needle-work. 

"The Duchess of St. Leu never was a regular beauty, but she is still acharming woman. She has the softest and most expressive blue eyes in theworld. Her light flaxen hair contrasts beautifully with the dark colorof her long eyelashes and eyebrows. Her complexion is fresh and of aneven tint; her figure elegantly moulded; her hands and feet perfect. Infine, her whole appearance is captivating in the extreme. She speaksquickly with rapid gestures, and all her movements are easy andgraceful. Her style of dress is rich, though she has parted with mostof her jewels and precious stones. "

Hortense was almost invariably accompanied by her son, Louis Napoleon, whether residing in Italy or in Switzerland. When at Arenemberg, theyoung prince availed himself of the vicinity to the city in pursuing arigorous course of study in physics and chemistry under the guidance ofa very distinguished French philosopher. He also connected himself, inprosecuting his military studies, with a Baden regiment garrisoned atConstance. He was here recognized as the Duke of St. Leu, and was alwaysreceived with much distinction. At Rome, the residence of Hortense wasthe centre of the most brilliant and polished society of the city. Hereher son was introduced to the most distinguished men from all lands, andespecially to the old friends of the Empire, who kept alive in his mindthe memory of the brilliant exploits of him whose name he bore. PaulineBonaparte, who had married for her second husband Prince Borghese, andwho was immensely wealthy, also resided in the vicinity of Rome, inprobably the most magnificent villa in Europe. Hortense and her son wereconstant visitors at her residence. 

Madame Récamier, who had ever been the warm friend of the Bourbons, andwhom Hortense had befriended when the Bourbons were in exile, gives thefollowing account of an interview she had with Queen Hortense in Rome, early in the year 1824. The two friends had not met since the "HundredDays" in 1815. We give the narrative in the words of Madame Récamier:

"I went one day to St. Peter's to listen to the music, so beautifulunder the vaults of that immense edifice. There, leaning against apillar, meditating under my veil, I followed with heart and soul thesolemn notes that died away in the depths of the dome. Anelegant-looking woman, veiled like myself, came and placed herself nearthe same pillar. Every time that a more lively feeling drew from me aninvoluntary movement my eyes met those of the stranger. She seemed to betrying to recognize my features. And I, on my side, through the obstacleof our veils, thought I distinguished blue eyes and light hair that werenot unknown to me. 'Madame Récamier!' 'Is it you, madame?' we saidalmost at the same moment. 'How delighted I am to see you!' said QueenHortense, for she it was. 'You know, ' she added, smiling, 'that I wouldnot have waited until now to find you out; but you have always beenceremonious with me. '

"'Then, madame, ' I replied, 'my friends were exiled and unfortunate. Youwere happy and brilliant, and my place was not near you. '

"'If misfortune has the privilege of attracting you, ' replied the queen, 'you must confess that my time has come and permit me to advance myclaims. '

"I was a little embarrassed for a reply. My connection with the Duke deLaval, our ambassador at Rome, and with the French Government ingeneral, was a barrier to any visiting between us. She understood mysilence. 

"'I know, ' she said, sadly, 'that the inconveniences of greatness followus still, when even our prerogatives are gone. Thus, with loss of rank, I have not acquired liberty of action. I can not to-day even taste thepleasures of a woman's friendship, and peaceably enjoy society that ispleasant and dear to me. '

"I bowed my head with emotion, expressing my sympathy only by my looks. 

"'But I must talk to you, ' said the queen, more warmly. 'I have so manythings to say to you. If we can not visit each other, nothing preventsus from meeting elsewhere. We will appoint some place to meet. That willbe charming. '

"'Charming indeed, madame, ' I replied, smiling; 'and especially for me. But how shall we fix the time and place for these interviews?'

"'It is you, ' Hortense replied, 'who must arrange that; for, thanks tothe solitude forced upon me, my time is entirely at my own disposal. Butit may not be the same with you. Sought for as you are, you mix, nodoubt, a great deal in society. '

"'Heaven forbid!' I replied. 'On the contrary, I lead a very retiredlife. It would be absurd to come to Rome to see society, and peopleeverywhere the same. I prefer to visit what is peculiarly her own--hermonuments and ruins. '

"'Well, then, we can arrange every thing finely, ' added Hortense; 'if itis agreeable to you I will join you in these excursions. Let me knoweach day your plans for the next; and we will meet, as if by accident, at the appointed places. '

"I eagerly accepted this offer, anticipating much pleasure in making thetour of old Rome with so gracious and agreeable a companion, and onewho loved and understood art. The queen, on her side, was happy in thethought that I would talk to her of France; whilst to both of us thelittle air of mystery thrown over these interviews gave them anothercharm. 

"'Where do you propose to go to-morrow?' asked the queen. 

"'To the Coliseum. '

"'You will assuredly find me there, ' Hortense replied. 'I have much tosay to you. I wish to justify myself in your eyes from an imputationthat distresses me. '

"The queen began to enter into explanations; and the interviewthreatening to be a long one, I frankly reminded her that the Frenchambassador, who had brought me to St. Peter's, was coming back for me;for I feared that a meeting would be embarrassing to both. 

"'You are right, ' said the queen. 'We must not be surprised together. Adieu, then. To-morrow at the Coliseum;' and we separated. "

Madame Récamier, the bosom-friend of Chateaubriand, was in entirepolitical sympathy with the illustrious poet. She regarded legitimacy asa part of her religion, and was intensely devoted to the interests ofthe Bourbons. She was one of the most beautiful and fascinating womenwho ever lived. Napoleon at St. Helena, in allusion to this remarkablelady, said:

"I was scarcely First Consul ere I found myself at issue with MadameRécamier. Her father had been placed in the Post-office Department. Ihad found it necessary to sign, in confidence, a great number ofappointments; but I soon established a very rigid inspection in everydepartment A correspondence was discovered with the Chouans, going onunder the connivance of M. Bernard, the father of Madame Récamier. Hewas immediately dismissed, and narrowly escaped trial and condemnationto death. His daughter hastened to me, and upon her solicitation Iexempted M. Bernard from taking his trial, but was resolute respectinghis dismissal. Madame Récamier, accustomed to obtain every thing, wouldbe satisfied with nothing less than the reinstatement of her father. Such were the morals of the times. My severity excited loudanimadversions. It was a thing quite unusual. Madame Récamier and herparty never forgave me. "[J]

[Footnote J: Abbott's "Napoleon at St. Helena, " p. 94. ]

The home of Madame De Staël, who was the very intimate friend of MadameRécamier, became, in the early stages of the Empire, the rendezvous ofall those who were intriguing for the overthrow of the government ofNapoleon. The Emperor, speaking upon this subject at St. Helena, said:

"The house of Madame De Staël had become quite an arsenal against me. People went there to be armed knights. She endeavored to raise enemiesagainst me, and fought against me herself. She was at once Armida andClorinda. It can not be denied that Madame de Staël is a verydistinguished woman. She will go down to posterity. At the time of theConcordat, against which Madame de Staël was violently inflamed, sheunited at once against me the aristocrats and the republicans. Having atlength tired out my patience, she was sent into exile. I informed herthat I left her the universe for the theatre of her achievements; that Ireserved only Paris for myself, which I forbade her to approach, andresigned the rest of the world to her. "

The banishment of Madame de Staël from Paris excited as much bitternessin the soul of Madame Récamier as it was possible for a lady of suchrare amiability and loveliness of character to feel. Madame Récamier, ingiving an account of this transaction, says:

"I had a passionate admiration for Madame de Staël; and this harsh andarbitrary act showed me despotism under its most odious aspect. The manwho banished a woman, and such a woman, --who caused her suchunhappiness, could only be regarded by me as an unmerciful tyrant; andfrom that hour I was against him. "

The result was that Madame Récamier was forbidden to reside within onehundred and twenty miles of Paris. The reason which Napoleon assignedfor these measures was, that Madame de Staël, with the mostextraordinary endowments of mind, and Madame Récamier, with charms ofpersonal loveliness which had made her renowned through all Europe, werecombining their attractions in forming a conspiracy which would surelydeluge the streets of Paris in blood. Napoleon affirmed that though theGovernment was so strong that it could certainly crush an insurrectionin the streets, he thought it better to prohibit these two ladies anyfurther residence in Paris, rather than leave them to foment rebellion, which would cost the lives of many thousands of comparatively innocentpersons. 

When the Bourbons, at the first restoration, returned to Paris, in therear of the batteries of the Allies, Madame Récamier again took up herresidence in Paris. Her saloons were thronged with the partisans of theold regime, and she was universally recognized as the queen of fashionand beauty. She was in the enjoyment of a very large income, kept hercarriage, had a box at the opera, and on opera nights had receptionsafter the performances. The wheel of fortune had turned, and she was nowin the ascendant. Lord Wellington was among her admirers. But thebrusque, unpolished duke disgusted the refined French lady by his boastto her, "I have given Napoleon a good beating. "

Still the wheel continued its revolution. Napoleon returned from Elba. The Bourbons and their partisans fled precipitately from France. But, inthe interim, Madame Récamier and Madame de Staël had dined with theDuchess of St. Leu, at her estate a few leagues from Paris. The returnof Napoleon plunged Madame Récamier and her friend into the utmostconsternation. She was very unwilling again to leave Paris. In thisemergency, Hortense, who was then at the Tuileries, wrote to her underdate of March 23, 1815:

"I hope that you are tranquil. You may trust to me to take care of yourinterests. I am convinced that I shall not have occasion to show you howdelighted I should be to be useful to you. Such would be my desire. Butunder any circumstances count upon me, and believe that I shall be veryhappy to prove my friendship for you. 

 "HORTENSE. "

The "Hundred Days" passed away. The Bourbons were re-enthroned. MadameRécamier was again a power in Paris. Hortense, deprived of the duchy ofSt. Leu, was driven an exile out of France. Fifteen years had rolledaway, and these two distinguished ladies had not met until theaccidental interview to which we have alluded beneath the dome of St. Peter's Cathedral. They were friends, though one was the representativeof aristocracy and the other of the rights of the people. 

According to the arrangement which they had made, Hortense and MadameRécamier met the next day at the Coliseum. Though it is not to besupposed that Madame Récamier would make any false representations, itis evident that, under the circumstances, she would not soften any ofthe expressions of Hortense, or represent the conversation which ensuedin any light too favorable to Napoleon. We give the narrative, however, of this very interesting interview in the words of Madame Récamier:

"The next day, at the Ave Maria, I was at the Coliseum, where I saw thequeen's carriage, which had arrived a few minutes before me. We enteredthe amphitheatre together, complimenting each other on our punctuality, and strolled through this immense ruin as the sun was setting, and tothe sound of distant bells. 

"Finally we seated ourselves on the steps of the cross in the centre ofthe amphitheatre, while Charles Napoleon Bonaparte and M. Ampère, whohad followed us, walked about at a little distance. The night cameon--an Italian night. The moon rose slowly in the heavens, behind theopen arcades of the Coliseum. The breeze of evening sighed through thedeserted galleries. Near me sat this woman, herself the living ruin ofso extraordinary a fortune. A confused and undefinable emotion forced meto silence. The queen also seemed absorbed in her reflections. 

[Illustration: INTERVIEW IN THE COLISEUM. ]

"'How many events have contributed to bring us together, ' she saidfinally, turning towards me, 'events of which I often have been thepuppet or the victim, without having foreseen or provoked them. '

"I could not help thinking that this pretension to the rôle of a victimwas a little hazardous. At that time I was under the conviction that shehad not been a stranger to the return from the island of Elba. Doubtlessthe queen divined my thoughts, since it is hardly possible for me tohide my sentiments. My bearing and face betray me in spite of myself. 

"'I see plainly, 'she said earnestly, 'that you share an opinion that hasinjured me deeply; and it was to controvert it that I wanted to speak toyou freely. Henceforth you will justify me, I hope; for I can clearmyself of the charge of ingratitude and treason, which would abase me inmy own eyes if I had been guilty of them. '

"She was silent a moment and then resumed. 'In 1814, after theabdication of Fontainebleau, I considered that the Emperor had renouncedall his rights to the throne, and that his family ought to follow hisexample. It was my wish to remain in France, under a title that wouldnot give umbrage to the new Government. At the request of the Emperor ofRussia, Louis XVIII. Gave me authority to assume the title of Duchess ofSt. Leu, and confirmed me in the possession of my private property. Inan audience that I obtained to thank him, he treated me with so muchcourtesy and kindness that I was sincerely grateful; and after havingfreely accepted his favors I could not think of conspiring against him. 

"'I heard of the landing of the Emperor only through public channels, and it gave me much more annoyance than pleasure. I knew the Emperor toowell to imagine that he would have attempted such an enterprise withouthaving certain reasons to hope for success. But the prospect of a civilwar afflicted me deeply, and I was convinced that we could not escapeit. The speedy arrival of the Emperor baffled all my previsions. 

"'On hearing of the departure of the king, and picturing him to myselfold, infirm, and forced to abandon his country again, I was sensiblytouched. The idea that he might be accusing me of ingratitude andtreason was insupportable to me; and, notwithstanding all the risk ofsuch a step, I wrote to him to exculpate myself from any participationin the events which had just taken place. 

"'On the evening of the 20th of March, being advised of the Emperor'sapproach by his old minister, I presented myself at the Tuileries toawait his coming. I saw him arrive, surrounded, pressed, and borneonward by a crowd of officers of all ranks. In all this tumult I couldscarcely accost him. He received me coldly, said a few words to me, andappointed an interview for next day. The Emperor has always inspired mewith fear, and his tone on this occasion was not calculated to reassureme. I presented myself, however, with as calm a bearing as was possible. I was introduced into his private room; and we were scarcely alone whenhe advanced toward me quickly, and said brusquely, "'"Have you then so poorly comprehended your situation that you couldrenounce your name, and the rank you held from me, to accept a titlegiven by the Bourbons?"

"'"My duty sire, " I replied, summoning up all my courage to answer him, "was to think of my children's future, since the abdication of yourMajesty left me no longer any other to fulfill. "

"'"Your children, " exclaimed the Emperor, "your children! Were they notmy nephews before they were your sons? Have you forgotten that? Had youthe right to strip them of the rank that belonged to them?" And as Ilooked at him, all amazed, he added, with increasing rage, "Have you notread the Code, then?"

"'I avowed my ignorance, recalling to myself that he had formerlyconsidered it reprehensible, in any woman, and especially in members ofhis own family, to dare to avow that they knew any thing aboutlegislation. Then he explained to me with volubility the article in thelaw prohibiting any change in the state of minors, or the making of anyrenunciation in their name. As he talked he strode up and down the room, the windows of which were open to admit the beautiful spring sun. Ifollowed him, trying to make him understand that, not knowing the laws, I had only thought of the interests of my children, and taken counsel ofmy heart. The Emperor stopped all of a sudden, and turning roughlytowards me, said, "'"Then it should have told you, Madame, that when you shared theprosperity of a family, you ought to know how to submit to itsmisfortunes. "

"'At these last words I burst into tears. But at this moment ourconversation was interrupted by a tremendous uproar which frightened me. The Emperor, while talking, had unconsciously approached the windowlooking upon the terrace of the Tuileries, which was filled with people, who, upon recognizing him, rent the air with frantic acclamations. TheEmperor, accustomed to control himself, saluted the people electrifiedby his presence, and I hastened to dry my eyes. But they had seen mytears, without the slightest suspicion of their cause. For the next daythe papers vied with each other in repeating that the Emperor had shownhimself at the windows of the Tuileries, accompanied by Queen Hortense, and that the Queen was so moved by the enthusiasm manifested at thesight of her that she could scarcely restrain her tears. '

"This account, " adds Madame Récamier, "had an air of sincerity about it, which shook my previous convictions, and the regard I felt for the Queenwas heightened. From that time we became firm friends. We met each otherevery day, sometimes at the Temple of Vesta, sometimes at the Baths ofTitus, or at the Tomb of Cecilia Metella; at others, in some one of thenumerous churches of the Christian city, in the rich galleries of itspalaces, or at one of the beautiful villas in its environs; and such wasour punctuality, that our two carriages almost always arrived togetherat the appointed place. 

"I found the queen a very fascinating companion. And she showed such adelicate tact in respecting the opinions she knew I held, that I couldnot prevent myself saying that I could only accuse her of the one faultof not being enough of a Bonapartist. Notwithstanding the species ofintimacy established between us, I had always abstained from visitingher, when news arrived of the death of Eugene Beauharnais. The Queenloved her brother tenderly. I understood the grief she must feel inlosing her nearest relation and the best friend she had in the world, and came quickly to a decision. I immediately went to her, and found herin the deepest affliction. The whole Bonaparte family was there, butthat gave me little uneasiness. In such cases it is impossible for me toconsider party interests or public opinion. I have been often blamed forthis, and probably shall be again, and I must resign myself to thiscensure, since I shall never cease to deserve it. "

Hortense, immediately upon receiving the tidings of the dangeroussickness of her brother, had written thus to Madame Récamier. The letterwas dated, "Rome, Friday morning, April, 1824. 

"MY DEAR MADAME, --It seems to be my fate not to be able to enjoy anypleasures, diversions, or interest without the alloy of pain. I havenews of my brother. He has been ill. They kindly assure me that he wasbetter when the letter was sent, but I can not help being extremelyanxious. I have a presentiment that this is his last illness, and I amfar from him. I trust that God will not deprive me of the only friendleft me--the best and most honorable man on earth. I am going to St. Peter's to pray. That will comfort me perhaps, for my very anxietyfrightens me. One becomes weak and superstitious in grief. I can nottherefore go with you to-day, but I shall be happy to see you, if youwould like to join me at St. Peter's. I know that you are not afraid ofthe unhappy, and that you bring them happiness. To wish for you now isenough to prove to you my regard for you. 

 "HORTENSE. "

Soon after the death of Prince Eugene, Hortense returned to Arenemberg. From that place she wrote to Madame Récamier, under date of June 10th, 1824:

"You were kind enough, Madame, to wish to hear from me. I can not saythat I am well, when I have lost every thing on this earth. Meanwhile Iam not in ill health. I have just had another heart-break. I have seenall my brother's things. I do not recoil from this pain, and perhaps Imay find in it some consolation. This life, so full of troubles, candisturb no longer the friends for whom we mourn. He, no doubt, is happy. With your sympathies you can imagine all my feelings. 

"I am at present in my retreat. The scenery is superb. In spite of thelovely sky of Italy, I still find Arenemberg very beautiful. But I mustalways be pursued by regrets. It is undoubtedly my fate. Last year I wasso contented. I was very proud of not repining, not wishing for anything in this world. I had a good brother, good children. To-day howmuch need have I to repeat to myself that there are still some left towhom I am necessary!

"But I am talking a great deal about myself, and I have nothing to tellyou, if it be not that you have been a great comfort to me, and that Ishall always be pleased to see you again. You are among those persons towhom it is not needful to relate one's life or one's feelings. The heartis the best interpreter, and they who thus read us become necessary tous. 

"I do not ask you about your plans, and nevertheless I am interested toknow them. Do not be like me, who live without a future, and who expectto remain where fate puts me; for I may stay at my country-place allwinter, if I can have all the rooms heated. Sometimes the wind seems tocarry the house off, and the snow, I am told, is of frightful depth. Butit requires little courage to surmount these obstacles. On the contrary, these great effects of nature are sometimes not without their charms. Adieu. Do not entirely forget me. Believe me, your friendship has doneme good. You know what a comfort a friendly voice from one's nativecountry is, when it comes to us in misfortune and isolation. Be kindenough to tell me that I am unjust if I complain too much of my destiny, and that I have still some friends left. 

 "HORTENSE. "

Just about this time M. De Chateaubriand, the illustrious friend ofMadame Récamier, was quite insultingly dismissed from the ministry fornot advocating a law of which the king approved. The disgrace of theminister created a very deep sensation. In allusion to it, Hortensewrote to Madame Récamier, from Arenemberg, Sept. 11, 1824, as follows:

"I expected to hear from you on your return from Naples, and as I havenot heard, I know not where to find you. I have fancied that you were onthe road to Paris, because I always imagine that we go where the heartgoes, and where we can be useful to our friends. It is curious to thinkwhat a chain the affections are. Why, I myself, secluded from the world, stranger to every thing, am sorry to see so distinguished a man shut outfrom public life. Is it on account of the interest you have made me takein that quarter, or is it, rather, because, like a Frenchwoman, I loveto see merit and superiority honored in my country?

"At present I am no longer alone. I have my cousin with me, the GrandDuchess of Baden, a most accomplished person. The brilliancy of herimagination, the vivacity of her wit, the correctness of her judgment, together with the perfect balance of all her faculties, render her acharming and a remarkable woman. She enlivens my solitude and softens myprofound grief. We converse in the language of our country. It is thatof the heart, you know, since at Rome we understood each other so well. 

"I claim your promise to stop on the way at Arenemberg. It will always beto me very sweet to see you. I can not separate you from one of mygreatest sorrows; which is to say that you are very dear to me, and thatI shall be happy to have an opportunity to assure you of my affection. 

 "HORTENSE. "

Madame Récamier, after leaving Rome, kept up her friendly relations andcorrespondence with Queen Hortense. 

The winter of 1829 Hortense spent with her sons in Rome. Chateaubriandwas then French ambassador in that city. Upon his leaving, to return toParis, Hortense wrote to Madame Récamier the following letter, in whichshe alludes to his departure:

 "Rome, May 10, 1829. 

"DEAR MADAME, --I am not willing that one of your friends should leavethe place where I am living, and where I have had the pleasure ofmeeting you, without carrying to you a token of my remembrance. I alsowish you to convey to him my sentiments. Kindnesses show themselves inthe smallest things, and are also felt by those who are the object ofthem, without their being equal to the expression of their feelings. Butthe benevolence which has been able to reach me has made me regret notbeing permitted to know him whom I have learned to appreciate, and who, in a foreign land, so worthily represented to me my country, at leastsuch as I always should like to look upon her, as a friend andprotectress. 

"I am soon to return to my mountains, where I hope to hear from you. Donot forget me entirely. Remember that I love you, and that yourfriendship contributed to soothe one of the keenest sorrows of my life. These are two inseparable memories. Thus never doubt my tender love, inagain assuring you of which I take such pleasure. 

 "HORTENSE. "

The year 1830 came. Louis Napoleon was then twenty-two years of age. Aninsurrection in Paris overthrew the old Bourbon dynasty, and establishedits modification in the throne of Louis Philippe. This revolution inFrance threw all Europe into commotion. All over Italy the people roseto cast off the yoke which the Allies, who had triumphed at Waterloo, had imposed upon them. The exiled members of the Bonaparte family met atRome to decide what to do in the emergency. Hortense attended themeeting with her two sons. The eldest, Napoleon Louis, had married hiscousin, the daughter of Joseph Bonaparte. Both of the young princes, with great enthusiasm, joined the patriots. Hortense was very muchalarmed for the safety of her sons. She could see but little hope thatthe insurrection could be successful in Italy, for the "Holy Alliance"was pledged to crush it. She wrote imploringly to her children. LouisNapoleon replied, "Your affectionate heart will understand our determination. We havecontracted engagements which we can not break. Can we remain deaf to thevoice of the unfortunate who call to us? We bear a name which obliges usto listen. "

We have not here space to describe the conflict. The Italian patriots, overwhelmed by the armies of Austria, were crushed or dispersed. Theelder of the sons of Hortense, Napoleon Louis, died from the fatigue andexposure of the campaign, and was buried at Florence. The younger son, Louis Napoleon, enfeebled by sickness, was in the retreat with thevanquished patriots to Ancona, on the shores of the Adriatic. Thedistracted mother was hastening to her children when she heard of thedeath of the one, and of the sickness and perilous condition of theother. She found Louis Napoleon at Ancona, in a burning fever. TheAustrians were gathering up the vanquished patriots wherever they couldbe found in their dispersion, and were mercilessly shooting them. Hortense was in an agony of terror. She knew that her son, if captured, would surely be shot. The Austrians were soon in possession of Ancona. They eagerly sought for the young prince, who bore a name which despotshave ever feared. A price was set upon his head. The sagacity of themother rescued the child. She made arrangements for a frail skiff tosteal out from the harbor and cross the Adriatic Sea to the shores ofIllyria. Deceived by this stratagem, the Austrian police had no doubtthat the young prince had escaped. Their vigilance was accordinglyrelaxed. Hortense then took a carriage for Pisa. Her son, burning withfever and emaciate from grief and fatigue, mounted the box behind in thedisguise of a footman. In this manner, exposed every moment to thedanger of being arrested by the Austrian police, the anxious mother andher son traversed the whole breadth of Italy. As Louis Napoleon had, with arms in his hands, espoused the cause of the people in theirstruggle against Austrian despotism, he could expect no mercy, and therewas no safety for him anywhere within reach of the Austrian arm. 

By a law of the Bourbons, enacted in 1816, which law was re-enacted bythe Government of Louis Philippe, no member of the Bonaparte familycould enter France but under the penalty of death. But Napoleon I. , whenin power, had been very generous to the House of Orleans. Hortense, also, upon the return of Napoleon from Elba, when the Royalists wereflying in terror from the kingdom, had protected and warmly befriendeddistinguished members of the family. Under these circumstances, distracted by the fear that her only surviving child would be arrestedand shot, and knowing not which way to turn for safety, the mother andthe son decided, notwithstanding the menace of death suspended overthem, to seek a momentary refuge, incognito, in France. 

Embarking in a small vessel, still under assumed names, they safelyreached Cannes. At this port Napoleon had landed sixteen years ago, inhis marvellous return from Elba. The mother and son proceededimmediately to Paris, resolved to cast themselves upon the generosity ofLouis Philippe. Louis Napoleon was still very sick, and needed his bedrather than the fatigues of travel. It was the intention of his mother, so soon as the health of her son was sufficiently restored, to continuetheir journey and cross over to England. 

Hortense, in her "Mémoires, " speaking of these hours of adversity'sdeepest gloom, writes:

"At length I arrived at the barrier of Paris. I experienced a sort ofself-love in exhibiting to my son, by its most beautiful entrance, thatcapital, of which he could probably retain but a feeble recollection. Iordered the postillion to take us through the Boulevards to the Rue dela Paix, and to stop at the first hotel. Chance conducted us to theHotel D'Hollande. I occupied a small apartment on the third floor, _dupremier_, first above the entresol. From my room I could see theBoulevard and the column in the Place Vendôme. I experienced a sort ofsaddened pleasure, in my isolation, in once more beholding that citywhich I was about to leave, perhaps forever, without speaking to aperson, and without being distracted by the impression which that viewmade upon me. "

Twenty-two years before, Hortense, in this city, had given birth to thechild who was now sick and a fugitive. Austria was thirsting for hisblood, and the Government of his own native land had laid upon him theban of exile, and it was at the peril of their lives that either motheror son placed their feet upon the soil of France. And yet the birth ofthis prince was welcomed by salvos of artillery, and by everyenthusiastic demonstration of public rejoicing, from Hamburg to Rome, and from the Pyrenees to the Danube. 

Louis Napoleon was still suffering from a burning fever. A few days ofrepose seemed essential to the preservation of his life. Hortenseimmediately wrote a letter to King Louis Philippe, informing him of thearrival of herself and son, incognito, in Paris, of the circumstanceswhich had rendered the step necessary, and casting themselves upon hisprotection. Louis Philippe owed Hortense a deep debt of gratitude. Hehad joined the Allies in their war against France. He had come back toParis in the rear of their batteries. By French law he was a traitordoomed to die. When Napoleon returned from Elba he fled from France interror, again to join the Allies. He was then the Duke of Orleans. TheDuchess of Orleans had slipped upon the stairs and broken her leg. Shecould not be moved. Both Hortense and Napoleon treated her with thegreatest kindness. Of several letters which the Duchess of Orleans wroteHortense, full of expressions of obligation and gratitude, we will quotebut one. 

_The Duchess of Orleans to Queen Hortense. _

 "April 19, 1815. 

"MADAME, --I am truly afflicted that the feeble state of my healthdeprives me of the opportunity of expressing to your majesty, as I couldwish, my gratitude for the interest she has manifested in my situation. I am still suffering much pain, as my limb has not yet healed. But I cannot defer expressing to your majesty, and to his majesty, the Emperor, to whom I beg you to be my interpreter, the gratitude I feel I am, madame, your majesty's servant, "LOUISE MARIE ADELAIDE DE BOURBON, DUCHESS D'ORLEANS. "

The Emperor, in response to the solicitations of Hortense, had permittedthe Duchess of Orleans to remain in Paris, and also had assured her of apension of four hundred thousand francs ($80, 000). The Duchess ofBourbon, also, aunt of the Duke of Orleans, was permitted to remain inthe city. And she, also, that she might be able to maintain the positiondue to her rank, received from the Emperor a pension of two hundredthousand francs ($40, 000). The Duchess of Bourbon had written toHortense for some great favors, which Hortense obtained for her. Inreply to the assurance of Hortense that she would do what she could toaid her, the duchess wrote, under date of April 29th, 1815:

"I am exceedingly grateful for your kindness, and I have full confidencein the desire which you express to aid me. I can hardly believe that theEmperor will refuse a demand which I will venture to say is so just, andparticularly when it is presented by you. Believe me, madame, that mygratitude equals the sentiments of which I beg you to receive, inadvance, the most sincere attestation. "

Under these circumstances Hortense could not doubt that she mightventure to appeal to the magnanimity of the king. 

CHAPTER IX. 

LIFE AT ARENEMBERG. 

1831-1836

Embarrassments of Louis Philippe. --The minister's interview withHortense. --Hortense ordered to leave France. --Letter from LouisNapoleon. --Right of citizenship conferred. --Response of theprince. --Permission to pass through France. --Louis Napoleon invitedto the throne of Poland. --Visit of Madame Récamier. --Accomplishments ofthe Prince. --Heirs to the Empire. --Studious habits of LouisNapoleon. --Testimony of an English gentleman. --Personal appearance ofLouis Napoleon. --His resemblance to the Emperor. --Letter to M. Belmontet. --Letter to a friend. --Love of Hortense for her son. --Columnin the Place Vendôme. --Arc de l'Etoile. --First heir to the Empire. --Thethrone of Louis Philippe menaced. --Remarks of Louis Napoleon. --Peril ofthe movements. --Letter to Hortense. --Capture of Louis Napoleon. --Anguishof Hortense. 

It must be confessed that the position of Louis Philippe was painfulwhen he received the note from Hortense announcing that she and her sonwere in Paris. An insurrection in the streets of Paris had overthrownthe throne of the Bourbons, and with it the doctrine of legitimacy. Louis Philippe had been placed upon the vacant throne, not by the voiceof the French people, but by a small clique in Paris. There was dangerthat allied Europe would again rouse itself to restore the Bourbons. Louis Philippe could make no appeal to the masses of the people forsupport, for he was not the king of their choice. Should he do any thingindicative of friendship for the Bonapartes, it might exasperate alldynastic Europe; and should the French people learn that an heir of theEmpire was in France, their enthusiasm might produce convulsions the endof which no one could foresee. 

Thus unstably seated upon his throne, Louis Philippe was in a state ofgreat embarrassment. He felt that he could not consult the impulses ofhis heart, but that he must listen to the colder dictates of prudence. He therefore did not venture personally to call upon Queen Hortense, butsent Casimir Périer, president of his council, to see her. As Périerentered her apartment, Hortense said to him:

"Sir, I am a mother. My only means of saving my son was to come toFrance. I know very well that I have transgressed a law. I am well awareof the risks we run. You have a right to cause our arrest. It would bejust. "

"Just?" responded the minister, "no; legal? yes. " The result of someanxious deliberation was that, in consideration of the alarming sicknessof the young prince, they were to be permitted, provided they preservedthe strictest incognito, to remain in the city one week. The king alsogranted Hortense a private audience. He himself knew full well thesorrows of exile. He spoke feelingly of the weary years which he and hisfamily had spent in banishment from France. 

"I have experienced, " said he to Hortense, "all the griefs of exile. Andit is not in accordance with my wishes that yours have not yet ceased. "Hortense also saw the queen and the king's sister. There were but thesefour persons who were allowed to know that Hortense was in Paris. Andbut two of these, the king and his minister, knew that Prince LouisNapoleon was in the city. But just then came the 5th of May. It was theanniversary of the death of the Emperor at St. Helena. As ever, in thisanniversary, immense crowds of the Parisian people gathered around thecolumn on the Place Vendôme with their homage to their beloved Emperor, and covering the railing with wreaths of immortelles and other flowers. Had the populace known that from his window an heir of the great Emperorwas looking upon them, it would have created a flame of enthusiasm whichscarcely any earthly power could have quenched. 

The anxiety of the king, in view of the peril, was so great, thatHortense was informed that the public safety required that she shouldimmediately leave France, notwithstanding the continued sickness of herson. The order was imperative. But both the king and the ministeroffered her money, that she might continue her journey to London. ButHortense did not need pecuniary aid. She had just cashed at the bank anorder for sixteen thousand francs. Before leaving the city, LouisNapoleon wrote to the king a very eloquent and dignified letter, inwhich he claimed his right, as a French citizen, who had never committedany crime, of residing in his native land. He recognized the king as therepresentative of a great nation, and earnestly offered his services indefense of his country in the ranks of the army. He avowed that in Italyhe had espoused the cause of the people in opposition to aristocraticusurpation, and he demanded the privilege of taking his position, as aFrench citizen, beneath the tri-color of France. 

No reply was returned to this letter. It is said that the spirit andenergy it displayed magnified the alarm of the king, and increased hisurgency to remove the writer, as speedily as possible, from the soil ofFrance. 

On the 6th of May Hortense and her son left Paris, and proceeded thatday to Chantilly. Travelling slowly, they were four days in reachingCalais, where they embarked for England. Upon their arrival in London, both Hortense and her son met with a very flattering reception fromgentlemen of all parties. For some time they were the guests of the Dukeof Bedford, at Woburn Abbey. Talleyrand, who was then French ambassadorat the Court of St. James, with characteristic diplomatic caution calledhimself, and by means of an agent sought to ascertain what were thesecret plans and purposes of Queen Hortense. 

Several months were passed very profitably in England, and as pleasantlyas was possible for persons who had been so long buffetted by the stormsof adversity, who were exiles from their native land, and who knew notin what direction to look for a home of safety. While in this state ofperplexity, both mother and son were exceedingly gratified by receivingfrom the Canton of Thurgovia the following document, conferring therights of citizenship upon the young prince. The document bore the dateof Thurgovia, April 30th, 1832. 

"We, the President of the Council of the Canton of Thurgovia, declarethat, the Commune of Sallenstein having offered the right of communalcitizenship to his highness, Prince Louis Napoleon, out of gratitude forthe numerous favors conferred upon the canton by the family of theDuchess of St. Leu, since her residence in Arenemberg; and the grandcouncil having afterwards, by its unanimous vote of the 14th of April, sanctioned this award, and decreed unanimously to his highness the rightof honorary burghership of the canton, with the desire of proving howhighly it honors the generous character of this family, and how highlyit appreciates the preference they have shown for the canton; declaresthat his highness, Prince Louis Napoleon, son of the Duke and Duchess ofSt. Leu, is acknowledged as a citizen of the Canton of Thurgovia. "

The prince, in the response which he made in the name of his mother andhimself, expressed their gratitude for the kindness with which they hadever been treated, and thanked them especially for the honor which theyhad conferred upon him, in making him the "citizen of a free nation. " Asa testimonial of his esteem he sent to the authorities of the canton twobrass six-pounder cannon, with complete trains and equipage. He alsofounded a free school in the village of Sallenstein. 

Encouraged by these expressions of kindly feeling, both Hortense and herson were very desirous to return to their quiet and much-loved retreatat Arenemberg. The prince, however, who never allowed himself to waste amoment of time, devoted himself, during this short visit to England, assiduously to the study of the workings of British institutions, and tothe progress which the nation had attained in the sciences and the arts. It was not easy for Hortense and her son to return to Arenemberg. TheGovernment of Louis Philippe would not permit them to pass throughFrance. Austria vigilantly and indignantly watched every pathway throughItaly. They made application for permission to pass through Belgium, butthis was denied them. The Belgian throne, which was afterwards offeredto Leopold, was then vacant. It was feared that the people would rallyat the magic name of Napoleon, and insist that the crown should beplaced upon the brow of the young prince. 

In this sore dilemma, Louis Philippe at last consented, veryreluctantly, that they might pass hurriedly through France, Hortenseassuming the name of the Baroness of Arenemberg, and both giving theirpledge not to enter Paris. Having obtained the necessary passports, Hortense, with her son, left London in August, and, crossing theChannel, landed at Calais, thus placing their feet once more upon thesoil of their native land, from which they were exiled by Bourbon powersimply because they bore the name of Bonaparte, which all France sogreatly revered. In conformity with their agreement they avoided Paris, though they visited the tomb of Josephine, at Ruel. 

They had scarcely reached Switzerland when a deputation of distinguishedPoles called upon the young prince, urging him to place himself at thehead of their nation, then in arms, endeavoring to regain independence. The letter containing this offer was dated August 31, 1831. It wassigned by General Kniazewiez, Count Plater, and many other of the mostillustrious men of Poland. 

"To whom, " it was said, "can the direction of our enterprise be betterintrusted than to the nephew of the greatest captain of all ages? Ayoung Bonaparte appearing in our country, tri-color in hand, wouldproduce a moral effect of incalculable consequences. Come, then, younghero, hope of our country. Trust to the waves, which already know yourname, the fortunes of Cæsar, and what is more, the destinies of liberty. You will gain the gratitude of your brethren in arms and the admirationof the world. "

The chivalric spirit of the young prince was aroused. Notwithstandingthe desperation of the enterprise and the great anxiety of his mother, Louis Napoleon left Arenemberg to join the Poles. He had not proceededfar when he received the intelligence that Warsaw was captured and thatthe patriots were crushed. Sadly he returned to Arenemberg. Again, asever, he sought solace for his disappointment in intense application tostudy. In August, 1832, Madame Récamier with M. De Chateaubriand made avisit to Hortense, at the chateau of Arenemberg. The biographer ofMadame Récamier in the following terms records this visit:

"In August, 1832, Madame Récamier decided to make a trip to Switzerland, where she was to meet M. De Chateaubriand, who was already wandering inthe mountains. She went to Constance. The chateau of Arenemberg, wherethe Duchess of St. Leu passed her summers, and which she had bought andput in order, overlooks Lake Constance. It was impossible for MadameRécamier not to give a few days to this kind and amiable person, especially in her forlorn and isolated position. The duchess, too, hadlost, the year previous, her eldest son, Napoleon, who died in Italy. 

"When M. De Chateaubriand joined Madame Récamier at Constance, he wasinvited to dine with her at the castle. Hortense received him with themost gracious kindness, and read to him some extracts from her ownmemoirs. The establishment at Arenemberg was elegant, and on a largethough not ostentatious scale. Hortense's manners, in her own house, were simple and affectionate. She talked too much, perhaps, about hertaste for a life of retirement, love of nature, and aversion togreatness, to be wholly believed. After all these protestations, hervisitor could not perceive without surprise the care the duchess and herhousehold took to treat Prince Louis like a sovereign. He had theprecedence of every one. 

"The prince, polite, accomplished, and taciturn, appeared to MadameRécamier to be a very different person from his elder brother, whom shehad known in Rome, young, generous, and enthusiastic. The princesketched for her, in sepia, a view of Lake Constance, overlooked by thechateau of Arenemberg. In the foreground a shepherd, leaning against atree, is watching his flock and playing on the flute. This design, pleasantly associated with Madame Récamier's visit, is now historicallyinteresting. For the last ten years the signature of the author hasbeen affixed to very different things. "

But a month before this visit, in July, 1832, Napoleon's only son, theDuke of Reichstadt, died at the age of twenty-one years. All concur intestifying to his noble character. He died sadly, ever cherishing thememory of his illustrious sire, who had passed to the grave through thelong agony of St. Helena. The death of the Duke of Reichstadt broughtLouis Napoleon one step nearer to the throne of the Empire, according tothe vote of the French. There were now but two heirs between him and thecrown--his uncle Joseph and his father Louis. Both of these wereadvanced in life, and the latter exceedingly infirm. The legitimistsdenied that the people had any right to establish a dynasty; but it wasclear that whatever rights popular suffrage could confer would descendto Louis Napoleon upon the death of Joseph and of Louis Bonaparte. LouisNapoleon had no doubt that the immense majority of the French peoplewould improve the first possible opportunity to re-establish the Empire;and consequently the conviction which he so confidently cherished, thathe was destined to be the Emperor of France, was not a vague andbaseless impression, but the dictate of sound judgment. 

The Holy Alliance now contemplated Louis Napoleon with great anxiety, and kept a very close watch upon all his movements. The Government ofLouis Philippe was even more unpopular in France than the Government ofthe elder branch of the Bourbons had been. The crown had not been placedupon his brow either by _legitimacy_ or by _popular suffrage_, and therewere but few whom he could rally to his support. 

With never-flagging zeal the prince prosecuted his studies in thepeaceful retreat at Arenemberg, that he might be prepared for the highdestiny which he believed awaited him. He published several veryimportant treatises, which attracted the attention of Europe, and whichgave him a high position, not merely as a man of letters, but as astatesman of profound views. The _Spectateur Militaire_, in the reviewof the "Manual of Artillery, " by Prince Louis Napoleon, says:

"In looking over this book, it is impossible not to be struck with thelaborious industry of which it is the fruit. Of this we can get an ideaby the list of authors, French, German, and English, which he hasconsulted. And this list is no vain catalogue. We can find in the textthe ideas, and often the very expressions, of the authorities which hehas quoted. When we consider how much study and perseverance must havebeen employed to succeed in producing only the literary part (for eventhe illustrations scattered through the work are from the author's owndesigns) of a book which requires such profound and varied attainments, and when we remember that this author was born on the steps of a throne, we can not help being seized with admiration for the man who thusbravely meets the shocks of adversity. "

A gentleman, in a work entitled "Letters from London, " in the followinglanguage describes the prince's mode of life at Arenemberg:

"From his tenderest youth Prince Louis Napoleon has despised the habitsof an effeminate life. Although his mother allowed him a considerablesum for his amusements, these were the last things he thought of. Allthis money was spent in acts of beneficence, in founding schools orhouses of refuge, in printing his military or political works, or inmaking scientific experiments. His mode of life was always frugal, andrather rude. At Arenemberg it was quite military. 

"His room, situated not in the castle, but in a small pavilion besideit, offered none of the grandeur or elegance so prevalent in Hortense'sapartment. It was, in truth, a regular soldier's tent. Neither carpetnor arm-chair appeared there; nothing that could indulge the body;nothing but books of science and arms of all kinds. As for himself, hewas on horseback at break of day, and before any one had risen in thecastle he had ridden several leagues. He then went to work in hiscabinet. Accustomed to military exercises, as good a rider as could beseen, he never let a day pass without devoting some hours to sword andlance practice and the use of infantry arms, which he managed withextraordinary rapidity and address. "

[Illustration: THE STUDY OF LOUIS NAPOLEON. ]

His personal appearance at that time is thus graphically sketched. "Heis middle-sized, of an agreeable countenance, and has a military air. Topersonal advantages he joins the more seductive distinction of mannerssimple, natural, and full of good taste and ease. At first sight I wasstruck with his resemblance to Prince Eugene, and to the EmpressJosephine, his grandmother. But I did not remark a like resemblanceto the Emperor. But by attentively observing the essential features, that is those not depending on more or less fullness or on more or lessbeard, we soon discover that the Napoleonic type is reproduced withastonishing fidelity. It is, in fact, the same lofty forehead, broad andstraight, the same nose, of fine proportions, the same gray eyes, though, the expression is milder. It is particularly the same contourand inclination of the head. The latter especially, when the princeturns, is so full of the Napoleon air, as to make a soldier of the OldGuard thrill at the sight. And if the eye rests on the outline of theseforms, it is impossible not to be struck, as if before the head of theEmperor, with the imposing grandeur of the Roman profile, of which thelines, so defined, so grave, I will even add and so solemn, are, as itwere, the soul of great destinies. 

"The distinguishing expression of the features of the young prince isthat of nobleness and gravity. And yet, far from being harsh, hiscountenance, on the contrary, breathes a sentiment of mildness andbenevolence. It seems that the maternal type which is preserved in thelower part of his face has come to correct the rigidity of the imperiallines, as the blood of the Beauharnais seems to have tempered in himthe southern violence of the Napoleon blood. But what excites thegreatest interest is that indefinable tinge of melancholy andthoughtfulness observable in the slightest movement, and revealing thenoble sufferings of exile. 

"But after this portrait you must not figure to yourself one of thoseelegant young men, those Adonises of romance who excite the admirationof the drawing-room. There is nothing of effeminacy in the youngNapoleon. The dark shadows of his countenance indicate an energeticnature. His assured look, his glance at once quick and thoughtful, everything about him points out one of those exceptional natures, one ofthose great souls that live by meditating on great things, and thatalone are capable of accomplishing them. "

About this time the young prince wrote as follows to his friend, thepoet Belmontet: "Still far from my country, and deprived of all that canrender life dear to a manly heart, I yet endeavor to retain my couragein spite of fate, and find my only consolation in hard study. Adieu. Sometimes think of all the bitter thoughts which must fill my mind whenI contrast the past glories of France with her present condition andhopeless future. It needs no little courage to press on alone, as onecan, towards the goal which one's heart has vowed to reach. NeverthelessI must not despair, the honor of France has so many elements of vitalityin it. "

Some months later he wrote to the same friend: "My life has been untilnow marked only by profound griefs and stifled wishes. The blood ofNapoleon rebels in my veins, in not being able to flow for the nationalglory. Until the present time there has been nothing remarkable in mylife, excepting my birth. The sun of glory shone upon my cradle. Alas!that is all. But who can complain when the Emperor has suffered so much?Faith in the future, such is my only hope; the sword of the Emperor myonly stay; a glorious death for France my ambition. Adieu! Think of thepoor exiles, whose eyes are ever turned towards the beloved shores ofFrance. And believe that my heart will never cease to beat at the soundof country, honor, patriotism, and devotion. "

Hortense deeply sympathized in the sorrows of her son. Like the cagedeagle, he was struggling against his bars, longing for a lofty flight. On the 10th of August, 1834, she wrote to their mutual friend, Belmontetas follows:

"The state of my affairs obliges me to remain during the winter in mymountain home, exposed to all its winds. But what is this compared withthe dreadful sufferings which the Emperor endured upon the rock of St. Helena? I would not complain if my son, at his age, did not find himselfdeprived of all society and completely isolated, without any diversionbut the laborious pursuits to which he is devoted. His courage andstrength of soul equal his sad and painful destiny. What a generousnature! What a good and noble young man! I am proud to be his mother, and I should admire him if I were not so. I rejoice as much in thenobleness of his character, as I grieve at being unable to render hislife more happy. He was born for better things. He is worthy of them. Wecontemplate passing a couple of months at Geneva. There he will at leasthear the French language spoken. That will be an agreeable change forhim. The mother-tongue, is it not almost one's country?"

It every day became more and more evident that the throne of LouisPhilippe, founded only upon the stratagem of a clique in Paris, couldnot stand long. Under these circumstances, one of the leadingRepublicans in Paris wrote to the prince as follows:

"The life of the king is daily threatened. If one of these attemptsshould succeed, we should be exposed to the most serious convulsions;for there is no longer in France any party which can lead the others, nor any man who can inspire general confidence. In this position, prince, we have turned our eyes to you. The great name which you bear, your opinions, your character, every thing induces us to see in you apoint of rallying for the popular cause. Hold yourself ready for action, and when the time shall come your friends will not fail you. "

The Government of Louis Philippe had been constrained by the demand ofthe French people to restore to the summit of the column in the PlaceVendôme the statue of Napoleon, which the Allies had torn from it. Asthe colossal image of the Emperor was raised to its proud elevation onthat majestic shaft, the utmost enthusiasm pervaded not only the streetsof the metropolis, but entire France. Day after day immense crowdsgathered in the place, garlanding the railing with wreaths ofimmortelles, and exhibiting enthusiasm which greatly alarmed theGovernment. 

Hortense and Louis, from their place of exile, watched these populardemonstrations with intensest interest. All France seemed to be honoringNapoleon. And yet neither Hortense nor her son were allowed by theGovernment to touch the soil of France under penalty of death, simplybecause they were relatives of Napoleon. The completion of the Arc del'Etoile, at the head of the avenue of the Champs Elysee, a work whichNapoleon had originated, was another reminder to the Parisians of thegenius of the great Emperor. 

The Emperor, with dying breath, had said at St. Helena, "It is my wishthat my ashes may repose on the banks of the Seine, in the midst of theFrench people whom I have loved so well. " All France was now demandingthat this wish should be fulfilled. The Government dared not attempt toresist the popular sentiment. The remains were demanded of England, andtwo frigates were sent to transport them to France. And the wholekingdom prepared to receive those remains, and honor them with a burialmore imposing than had ever been conferred upon a mortal before. 

Louis Napoleon and his friends thought that the time had now arrived inwhich it was expedient for him to present himself before the people ofFrance, and claim their protection from the oppression of the FrenchGovernment. It was believed that the French people, should theopportunity be presented them, would rise at the magic name of Napoleon, overthrow the throne of Louis Philippe, and then, by the voice ofuniversal suffrage, would re-establish the Empire. 

This would place Joseph Bonaparte on the throne, and would at once annulthe decree of banishment against the whole Bonaparte family. Hortenseand Louis Napoleon could then return to their native land. As LouisNapoleon was in the direct line of hereditary descent, there-establishment of the Empire would undoubtedly in the end secure thecrown for Louis Napoleon. The ever-increasing enthusiasm manifested forthe memory of Napoleon I. , and the almost universal unpopularity of theGovernment of Louis Philippe, led Louis Napoleon and his friends tothink that the time had come for the restoration of the Empire, orrather to restore to the people the right of universal suffrage, thatthey might choose a republic or empire or a monarchy, as the peopleshould judge best for the interests of France. 

It so happened that there was, at that time, in garrison at Strasburgthe same regiment in which General Bonaparte so brilliantly commencedhis career at the siege of Toulon, and which had received him with somuch enthusiasm at Grenoble, on his return from Elba, and had escortedhim in his triumphant march to Paris. Colonel Vaudrey, a veryenthusiastic and eloquent young man who had great influence over histroops, was in command of the regiment. It was not doubted that thesetroops would with enthusiasm rally around an heir of the Empire. Inpreparation for the movement, Louis Napoleon held several interviewswith Colonel Vaudrey at Baden. In one of these interviews the princesaid to the colonel:

"The days of prejudice are past. The prestige of divine right hasvanished from France with the old institutions. A new era has commenced. Henceforth the people are called to the free development of theirfaculties. But in this general impulse, impressed by moderncivilization, what can regulate the movement? What government will besufficiently strong to assure to the country the enjoyment of publicliberty without agitations, without disorders? It is necessary for afree people that they should have a government of immense moral force. And this moral force, where can it be found, if not in the right and thewill of all? So long as a general vote has not sanctioned a government, no matter what that government may be, it is not built upon a solidfoundation. Adverse factions will constantly agitate society; whileinstitutions ratified by the voice of the nation will lead to theabolition of parties and will annihilate individual resistances. 

"A revolution is neither legitimate nor excusable except when it is madein the interests of the majority of the nation. One may be sure thatthis is the motive which influences him, when he makes use of moralinfluences only to attain his ends. If the Government have committed somany faults as to render a revolution desirable for the nation, if theNapoleonic cause have left sufficiently deep remembrances in Frenchhearts, it will be enough, for me merely to present myself before thesoldiers and the people, recalling to their memory their recent griefsand past glory, for them to flock around my standard. 

"If I succeed in winning over a regiment, if the soldiers to whom I amunknown are roused by the sight of the imperial eagle, then all thechances will be mine. My cause will be morally gained, even if secondaryobstacles rise to prevent its success. It is my aim to present a popularflag--the most popular, the most glorious of all, --which shall serve asa rallying-point for the generous and the patriotic of all parties; torestore to France her dignity without universal war, her liberty withoutlicense, her stability without despotism. To arrive at such a result, what must be done? One must receive from the people alone all his powerand all his rights. "

The man who should undertake in this way to overthrow an establishedgovernment, must of course peril his life. If unsuccessful, he couldanticipate no mercy. Hortense perceived with anxiety that the mind ofher son was intensely absorbed in thoughts which he did not reveal toher. On the morning of the 25th of October, 1836, Louis Napoleon badeadieu to his mother, and left Arenemberg in his private carriage, ostensibly to visit friends at Baden. A few days after, Hortense wasplunged into the deepest distress by the reception of the followingletter:

"MY DEAR MOTHER, --You must have been very anxious in receiving notidings from me--you who believed me to be with my cousin. But yourinquietude will be redoubled when you learn that I made an attempt atStrasburg, which has failed. I am in prison, with several otherofficers. It is for them only that I suffer. As for myself, incommencing such an enterprise, I was prepared for every thing. Do notweep, mother. I am the victim of a noble cause, of a cause entirelyFrench. Hereafter justice will be rendered me and I shall becommiserated. 

"Yesterday morning I presented myself before the Fourth Artillery, andwas received with cries of _Vive l'Empereur!_ For a time all went well. The Forty-sixth resisted. We were captured in the court-yard of theirbarracks. Happily no French blood was shed. This consoles me in mycalamity. Courage, my mother! I shall know how to support, even to theend, the honor of the name I bear. Adieu! Do not uselessly mourn my lot. Life is but a little thing. Honor and France are every thing to me. Iembrace you with my whole heart. Your tender and respectful son, "LOUIS NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. "Strasburg, November 1, 1836. "

Hortense immediately hastened to France, to do whatever a mother's loveand anguish could accomplish for the release of her son, though incrossing the frontiers she knew that she exposed herself to the penaltyof death. Apprehensive lest her presence in Paris might irritate theGovernment, she stopped at Viry, at the house of the Duchess de Raguse. Madame Récamier repaired at once to Viry to see Hortense, where shefound her in great agony. Soon, however, a mother's fears were partiallyrelieved, as the Government of Louis Philippe, knowing the universalenthusiasm with which the Emperor and the Empire were regarded, did notdare to bring the young prince to trial, or even to allow it to be knownthat he was upon the soil of France. With the utmost precipitation theysecretly hurried their prisoner through France, by day and by night, tothe seaboard, where he was placed on board a frigate, whose captain hadsealed instructions respecting the destination of his voyage, which hewas not to open until he had been several days at sea. 

Poor Hortense, utterly desolate and heart-broken, returned toArenemberg. She knew that the life of her son had been spared, and thathe was to be transported to some distant land. But she knew not where hewould be sent, or what would be his destiny there. It is howeverprobable that ere long she learned, through her numerous friends, whatwere the designs of the Government respecting him. She however never sawher son again until, upon a dying bed, she gave him her last embrace andblessing. The hurried journey, and the terrible anxiety caused by thearrest and peril of her son, inflicted a blow upon Hortense from whichshe never recovered. Weary months passed away in the solitude ofArenemberg, until at last the heart-stricken mother received a packageof letters from the exile. As the narrative contained in these lettersthrows very interesting light upon the character of the mother as wellas of the son, we shall insert it in the next chapter. 

CHAPTER X. 

LETTER FROM LOUIS NAPOLEON TO HIS MOTHER. 

1836-1837

The attempt at Strasburg. --The march through the streets. --Peril of theprince. --Utter failure of the enterprise. --Examination of thecaptive. --Anxiety of Louis Napoleon for his companions. --Severetreatment. --Sympathy of the guard. --Hurried through France. --Statementof Louis Napoleon. --Remarks to Colonel Vaudrey. --The Napoleonicsystem. --Louis Napoleon's plea for his confederates. --Scenes atsea. --Life on board the frigate. --Uncertainty of thedestination. --Reflections of the captive. --Crossing the equator. --Letterto his mother. --Arrival at Rio Janeiro. --Remembrance of friends. 

"My Mother, --To give you a detailed recital of my misfortunes is torenew your griefs and mine. And still it is a consolation, both for youand for me, that you should be informed of all the impressions which Ihave experienced, and of all the emotions which have agitated me sincethe end of October. You know what was the pretext which I gave when Ileft Arenemberg. But you do not know what was then passing in my heart. Strong in my conviction which led me to look upon the Napoleonic causeas the only national cause in France, as the only civilizing cause inEurope, proud of the nobility and purity of my intentions, I was fullyresolved to raise the imperial eagle, or to fall the victim of mypolitical faith. 

"I left, taking in my carriage the same route which I had followed threemonths before when going from Urkirch to Baden. Every thing was thesame around me. But what a difference in the impressions with which Iwas animated! I was then cheerful and serene as the unclouded day. Butnow, sad and thoughtful, my spirit had taken the hue of the air, gloomyand chill, which surrounded me. I may be asked, what could have inducedme to abandon a happy existence, to encounter all the risks of ahazardous enterprise. I reply that a secret voice constrained me; andthat nothing in the world could have induced me to postpone to anotherperiod an attempt which seemed to me to present so many chances ofsuccess. 

"And the most painful thought for me at this moment is--now that realityhas come to take the place of suppositions, and that, instead ofimagining, I have seen--that I am firm in the belief that if I hadfollowed the plan which I had marked out for myself, instead of beingnow under the Equator, I should be in my own country. Of what importanceto me are those vulgar ones which call me insensate because I have notsucceeded, and which would have exaggerated my merit had I triumphed? Itake upon myself all the responsibility of the movement, for I haveacted from conviction, and not from the influence of others. Alas! if Iwere the only victim I should have nothing to deplore. I have found inmy friends boundless devotion, and I have no reproaches to make againstany one whatever. 

"On the 27th I arrived at Lahr, a small town of the Grand-duchy ofBaden, where I awaited intelligence. Near that place the axle of mycarriage broke, and I was compelled to remain there for a day. On themorning of the 28th I left Lahr, and, retracing my steps, passed throughFribourg, Neubrisach, and Colmar, and arrived, at eleven o'clock in theevening, at Strasburg without the least embarrassment. My carriage wastaken to the _Hotel de la Fleur_, while I went to lodge in a smallchamber, which had been engaged for me, in the _Rue de la Fontaine_. 

"There I saw, on the 29th, Colonel Vaudrey, and submitted to him theplan of operations which I had drawn up. But the colonel, whose nobleand generous sentiments merited a better fate, said to me:

"'There is no occasion here for a conflict with arms. Your cause is tooFrench and too pure to be soiled in shedding French blood. There is butone mode of procedure which is worthy of you, because it will avoid allcollision. When you are at the head of my regiment we will marchtogether to General Voirol's. [K] An old soldier will not resist thesight of you and of the imperial eagle when he knows that the garrisonfollows you. '

[Footnote K: The commanding officer of the garrison. ]

"I approved his reasons, and all things were arranged for the nextmorning. A house had been engaged in a street in the neighborhood of thequarter of Austerlitz, whence we all were to proceed to those barracksas soon as the regiment of artillery was assembled. 

"Upon the 29th, at eleven o'clock in the evening, one of my friends cameto seek me at the _Rue de la Fontaine_, to conduct me to the generalrendezvous. We traversed together the whole city. A bright moonilluminated the streets. I regarded the fine weather as a favorable omenfor the next day. I examined with care the places through which Ipassed. The silence which reigned made an impression upon me. By whatwould that calm be replaced to-morrow!

"'Nevertheless, ' said I to my companion, 'there will be no disorder if Isucceed. It is especially to avoid the troubles which frequentlyaccompany popular movements that I have wished to make the revolution bymeans of the army. But, ' I added, 'what confidence, what profoundconviction must we have of the nobleness of our cause, to encounter notmerely the dangers which we are about to meet, but that public opinionwhich will load us with reproaches and overwhelm us if we do notsucceed! And still, I call God to witness that it is not to satisfy apersonal ambition, but because I believe that I have a mission tofulfill, that I risk that which is more dear to me than life, the esteemof my fellow-citizens. '

"Having arrived at the house in the _Rue des Orphelins_, I found myfriends assembled in two apartments on the ground floor. I thanked themfor the devotion which they manifested for my cause, and said to themthat from that hour we would share good and bad fortune together. One ofthe officers had an eagle. It was that which had belonged to the seventhregiment of the line. 'The eagle of Labédoyère, '[L] one exclaimed, andeach one of us pressed it to his heart with lively emotion. All theofficers were in full uniform. I had put on the uniform of the artilleryand the hat of a major-general. 

[Footnote L: Colonel Labédoyère was a young man of fine figure andelegant manners, descended from a respectable family, and whose heartever throbbed warmly in remembrance of the glories of the Empire. Uponthe abdication of Napoleon and his retirement to Elba, Labédoyère wasin command of the seventh regiment of the line, stationed at Grenoble. He fraternized with his troops in the enthusiasm with which one and allwere swept away at the sight of the returning Emperor. Drawing a silvereagle from his pocket, he placed it upon the flag-staff and embraced itin the presence of all his soldiers, who, in a state of the wildestexcitement, with shouts of joy, gathered around Napoleon, crying _Vivel'Empereur_!

After Waterloo and the exile to St. Helena, Labédoyère was arrested, tried, and shot. It is said that the judges shed tears when theycondemned the noble young man to death. His young wife threw herself atthe feet of Louis XVIII. , and, frantic with grief, cried out, "Pardon, sire, pardon!" Louis replied, "My duty as a king ties my hands. I canonly pray for the soul of him whom justice has condemned. "--_Abbott'sLife of Napoleon_, vol. Ii. P. 110. ]

"The night seemed to us very long. I spent it in writing myproclamations, which I had not been willing to have printed in advancefor fear of some indiscretion. It was decided that we should remain inthat house until the colonel should notify me to proceed to thebarracks. We counted the hours, the minutes, the seconds. Six o'clock inthe morning was the moment indicated. 

"How difficult it is to express what one experiences under suchcircumstances. In a second one lives more than in ten years; for tolive is to make use of our organs, our senses, our faculties--of all theparts of ourselves which impart the sentiment of our existence. And inthese critical moments our faculties, our organs, our senses, exalted tothe highest degree, are concentrated on one single point. It is the hourwhich is to decide our entire destiny. One is strong when he can say tohimself, 'To-morrow I shall be the liberator of my country, or I shallbe dead. ' One is greatly to be pitied when circumstances are such thathe can neither be one nor the other. 

"Notwithstanding my precautions, the noise which a certain number ofpersons meeting together can not help making, awoke the occupants of thefirst story. We heard them rise and open their windows. It was fiveo'clock. We redoubled our precautions, and they went to sleep again. 

"At last the clock struck six. Never before did the sound of a clockvibrate so violently in my heart. But a moment after the bugle from thequarter of Austerlitz came to accelerate its throbbings. The greatmoment was approaching. A very considerable tumult was heard in thestreet. Soldiers passed shouting; horsemen rode at full gallop by ourwindows. I sent an officer to ascertain the cause of the tumult. Had thechief officer of the garrison been informed of our projects? Had we beendiscovered? My messenger soon returned to say to me that the noise camefrom some soldiers whom the colonel had sent to fetch their horses, which were outside the quarter. 

"A few more minutes passed, and I was informed that the colonel waswaiting for me. Full of hope, I hastened into the street. M. Parguin, [M]in the uniform of a brigadier-general, and a commander of battalion, carrying the eagle in his hand, are by my side. About a dozen officersfollow me. 

[Footnote M: M. Parguin was the gentleman to whom we have beforealluded, who was a highly esteemed young officer under Napoleon I. , andwho, having married Mademoiselle Cotelet, the reader of Queen Hortense, had purchased the estate of Wolfberg, in the vicinity of Arenemberg, andbecame one of the most intimate friends of Prince Louis Napoleon. ]

"The distance was short; it was soon traversed. The regiment was drawnup in line of battle in the barrack-yard, inside of the rails. Upon thegrass forty of the horse-artillery were stationed. 

"My mother, judge of the happiness I experienced at that moment. Aftertwenty-years of exile, I touched again the sacred soil of my country. Ifound myself with Frenchmen whom the recollection of the Empire wasagain to electrify. 

"Colonel Vaudrey was alone in the middle of the yard. I directed mysteps towards him. Immediately the colonel, whose noble countenance andfine figure had at that moment something of the sublime, drew his swordand exclaimed:

"'Soldiers of the Fourth Regiment of Artillery! A great revolution isbeing accomplished at this moment. You see here before you the nephew ofthe Emperor Napoleon. He comes to reconquer the rights of the people. The people and the army can rely upon him. It is around him that allshould rally who love the glory and the liberty of France. Soldiers! youmust feel, as does your chief, all the grandeur of the enterprise youare about to undertake, all the sacredness of the cause you are about todefend. Soldiers! can the nephew of the Emperor rely upon you?'

"His voice was instantly drowned by unanimous cries of _Vive Napoleon!Vive l'Empereur!_ I then addressed them in the following words:

"'Resolved to conquer or to die for the cause of the French people, itis to you first that I wish to present myself, because between you andme exist grand recollections. It is in your regiment that the Emperor, my uncle, served as captain. It is with you that he made his name famousat the siege of Toulon, and it is your brave regiment again which openedto him the gates of Grenoble, on his return from the isle of Elba. Soldiers! new destinies are reserved for you. To you belongs the gloryof commencing a great enterprise; to you the honor of first saluting theeagle of Austerlitz and of Wagram. '

"I then seized the eagle-surmounted banner, which one of my officers, M. De Carelles, bore, and presenting it to them, said, "'Soldiers! behold the symbol of the glory of France. During fifteenyears it conducted our fathers to victory. It has glittered upon all thefields of battle. It has traversed all the capitals of Europe. Soldiers!will you not rally around this noble standard which I confide to yourhonor and to your courage? Will you not march with me against thetraitors and the oppressors of our country to the cry, _Vive la France!Vive la liberté!_?'

"A thousand affirmative cries responded to me. We then commenced ourmarch, music in front. Joy and hope beamed from every countenance. Theplan was, to hasten to the house of the general, and to present to him, not a dagger at his throat, but the eagle before his eyes. It wasnecessary, in order to reach his house, to traverse the whole city. While on the way, I had to send an officer with a guard to publish myproclamations; another to the prefect, to arrest him. In short, sixreceived special missions, so that when I arrived at the general's, Ihad voluntarily parted with a considerable portion of my forces. 

"But had I then necessity to surround myself with so many soldiers?could I not rely upon the participation of the people? and, in fine, whatever may be said, along the whole route which I traversed I receivedunequivocal signs of the sympathy of the population. I had actually tostruggle against the vehemence of the marks of interest which werelavished upon me; and the variety of cries which greeted me showed thatthere was no party which did not sympathize with my feelings. 

"Having arrived at the court of the hotel of the general, I ascended thestairs, followed by Messieurs Vaudrey, Parguin, and two officers. Thegeneral was not yet dressed. I said to him, "'General, I come to you as a friend. I should be sorry to raise our oldtri-color banner without the aid of a brave soldier like you. Thegarrison is in my favor. Decide and follow me. '

"The eagle was presented to him. He rejected it, saying, 'Prince, theyhave deceived you. The army knows its duties, as I will prove to youimmediately. '

"I then departed, and gave orders to leave a file of men to guard him. The general afterwards presented himself to his soldiers, to induce themto return to obedience. The artillerymen, under the orders of M. Parguin, disregarded his authority, and replied to him only byreiterated cries of _Vive l'Empereur_. Subsequently the generalsucceeded in escaping from his hotel by an unguarded door. 

"When I left the hotel of the general, I was greeted with the sameacclamations of _Vive l'Empereur_. But this first check had alreadyseriously affected me. I was not prepared for it, convinced as I hadbeen that the sight alone of the eagle would recall to the general theold souvenirs of glory, and would lead him to join us. 

"We resumed our march. Leaving the main street, we entered the barracksof Finkematt, by the lane which leads there through the Faubourg ofPierre. This barrack is a large building, erected in a place with nooutlet but the entrance. The ground in front is too narrow for aregiment to be drawn up in line of battle. In seeing myself thus hedgedin between the ramparts and the barracks, I perceived that the planagreed upon had not been followed out. Upon our arrival, the soldiersthronged around us. I harangued them. Most of them went to get theirarms, and returned to rally around me, testifying their sympathy for meby their acclamations. 

"However, seeing them manifest a sudden hesitation, caused by thereports circulated by some officers among them who endeavored to inspirethem with doubts of my identity, and as we were also losing precioustime in an unfavorable position, instead of hastening to the otherregiments who expected us, I requested the colonel to depart. He urgedme to remain a little longer. I complied with his advice. 

[Illustration: THE ARREST. ]

"Some infantry officers arrived, ordered the gates to be closed, andstrongly reprimanded their soldiers. The soldiers hesitated. I orderedthe arrest of the officers. Their soldiers rescued them. Then all wasconfusion. The space was so contracted that each one was lost in thecrowd. The people, who had climbed upon the wall, threw stones at theinfantry. The cannoneers wished to use their arms, but we prevented it. We saw clearly that it would cause the death of very many. I saw thecolonel by turns arrested by the infantry, and rescued by his soldiers. I was myself upon the point of being slain by a multitude of men who, recognizing me, crossed their bayonets upon me. I parried their thrustswith my sabre, trying at the same time to calm them, when the cannoneersrescued me from their guns, and placed me in the middle of themselves. 

"I then pressed forward, with some subaltern officers, towards themounted artillery men, to seize a horse. All the infantry followed me. Ifound myself hemmed in between the horses and the wall, without power tomove. Then the soldiers, arriving from all parts, seized me andconducted me to the guard-house. On entering I found M. Parguin. Iextended my hand to him. He said to me, speaking in tones calm andresigned, 'Prince, we shall be shot, but it will be in a good cause. '

"'Yes, ' I replied, 'we have fallen in a grand and a gloriousenterprise. '

"Soon after General Voirol arrived. He said to me, upon entering, "'Prince, you have found but one traitor in the French army. '

"'Say rather, general, ' I replied, 'that I have found one Labédoyère. 'Some carriages were soon brought, and we were transported to the newprison. 

"Behold me, then, between four walls, with barred windows, in the abodeof criminals. Ah! those who know what it is to pass in an instant fromthe excess of happiness, caused by the noblest illusions, to the excessof misery, which leaves no hope, and to pass over this immense intervalwithout having one moment to prepare for it, alone can comprehend whatwas passing in my heart. 

"At the lodge we met again. M. De Querelles, pressing my hand, said tome in a loud voice, 'Prince, notwithstanding our defeat, I am stillproud of what we have done. ' They subjected me to an interrogation. Iwas calm and resigned. My part was taken. The following questions wereproposed to me:

"'What has induced you to act as you have done?'

"'My political opinions, ' I replied, 'and my desire to return to mycountry, from which a foreign invasion has exiled me. In 1830, Idemanded to be treated as a simple citizen. They treated me as apretender. Well, I have acted as a pretender. '

"'Did you wish, ' it was asked, 'to establish a military government?'

"'I wished, ' was my reply, 'to establish a government based on popularelection. '

"'What would you have done if successful?'

"'I would have assembled a national Congress. '

"I declared then, that I alone having organized every thing, that Ialone having induced others to join me, the whole responsibility shouldfall upon my head alone. Reconducted to prison, I threw myself upon abed which had been prepared for me, and, notwithstanding my torments, sleep, which soothes suffering, in giving repose to the anguish of thesoul, came to calm my senses. Repose does not fly from the couch of theunfortunate. It only avoids those who are consumed by remorse. But howfrightful was my awaking. I thought that I had had a dreadful nightmare. The fate of the persons who were compromised caused me the greatestgrief and anxiety. I wrote to General Voirol, to say to him that hishonor obliged him to interest himself in behalf of Colonel Vaudrey; forit was, perhaps, the attachment of the colonel for him, and the regardwith which he had treated him, which were the causes of the failure ofmy enterprise. I closed in beseeching him that all the rigor of the lawmight fall upon me, saying that I was the most guilty, and the only oneto be feared. 

"The general came to see me, and was very affectionate. He said, uponentering, 'Prince, when I was your prisoner, I could find no wordssufficiently severe to say to you. Now that you are mine, I have onlywords of consolation to offer. ' Colonel Vaudrey and I were conducted tothe citadel, where I, at least, was much more comfortable than inprison. But the civil power claimed us, and at the end of twenty-fourhours we were conveyed back to our former abode. 

"The jailer and the director of the prison at Strasburg did their duty;but they endeavored to alleviate as much as possible my situation, whilea certain M. Lebel, who had been sent from Paris, wishing to show hisauthority, prevented me from opening my windows to breathe the air, tookfrom me my watch, which he only restored to me at the moment of mydeparture, and, in fine, even ordered blinds to intercept the light. 

"On the evening of the 9th I was told that I was to be transferred toanother prison. I went out and met the general and the prefect, who tookme away in their carriage without informing me where I was to beconducted. I insisted that I should be left with my companions inmisfortune. But the Government had decided otherwise. Upon arriving atthe hotel of the prefecture, I found two post-chaises. I was orderedinto one with M. Cuynat, commander of the gendarmerie of the Seine, andLieutenant Thiboutot. In the other there were four sub-officers. 

"When I perceived that I was to leave Strasburg, and that it was my lotto be separated from the other accused, I experienced anguish difficultto be described. Behold me, then, forced to abandon the men who haddevoted themselves to me. Behold me deprived of the means of makingknown in my defense my views and my intentions. Behold me receiving aso-called favor from him upon whom I had wished to inflict the greatestevil. I vented my sorrow in complaints and regrets. I could onlyprotest. 

"The two officers who conducted me were two officers of the Empire, intimate friends of M. Parguin. Thus they treated me with the kindestattentions. I could have thought myself travelling with friends. Uponthe 11th, at two o'clock in the morning, I arrived at Paris, at thehotel of the Prefecture of Police. M. Delessat was very polite to me. Heinformed me that you had come to France to claim in my favor theclemency of the king, and that I was to start again in two hours forLorient, and that thence I was to sail for the United States in a Frenchfrigate. 

"I said to the prefect that I was in despair in not being permitted toshare the fate of my companions in misfortune; that being thus withdrawnfrom prison before undergoing a general examination (the first had beenonly a summary one), I was deprived of the means of testifying to manyfacts in favor of the accused. But my protestations were unavailing. Idecided to write to the king. And I said to him that, having been castinto prison after having taken up arms against his Government, I dreadedbut one thing, and that was his generosity, since it would deprive me ofmy sweetest consolation, the possibility of sharing the fate of mycompanions in misfortune. I added that life itself was of little valueto me; but that my gratitude to him would be great if he would spare thelives of a few old soldiers, the remains of our ancient army, who hadbeen enticed by me, and seduced by glorious souvenirs. 

"At the same time I wrote to M. Odillon Barrot[N] the letter which Isend with this, begging him to take charge of the defense of ColonelVaudrey. At four o'clock I resumed my journey, with the same escort, andon the 14th we arrived at the citadel of Port Louis, near Lorient. Iremained there until the twenty-first day of November, when the frigatewas ready for sea. 

[Footnote N: A distinguished advocate in Paris. ]

"After having entreated M. Odillon Barrot to assume the defense of theaccused, and in particular of Colonel Vaudrey, I added:

"'Monsieur, notwithstanding my desire to remain with my companions inmisfortune, and to partake of their lot, notwithstanding my entreatiesupon that subject, the king, in his clemency, has ordered that I shouldbe conducted to Lorient, to pass thence to America. Sensible as I oughtto be of the generosity of the king, I am profoundly afflicted inleaving my co-accused, since I cherish the conviction that could I bepresent at the bar, my depositions in their favor would influence thejury, and enlighten them as to their decision. Deprived of theconsolation of being useful to the men whom I have enticed to theirloss, I am obliged to intrust to an advocate that which I am unable tosay myself to the jury. 

"'On the part of my co-accused there was no plot. There was only theenticement of the moment. I alone arranged all. I alone made thenecessary preparations. I had already seen Colonel Vaudrey before the30th of October, but he had not conspired with me. On the 29th, at eighto'clock in the evening, no person knew but myself that the movement wasto take place the next day. I did not see Colonel Vaudrey until afterthis. M. Parguin had come to Strasburg on his own private business. Itwas not until the evening of the 29th, that I appealed to him. The otherpersons knew of my presence in France, but were ignorant of the objectof my visit. It was not until the evening of the 29th that I assembledthe persons now accused; and I did not make them acquainted with myintentions until that moment. 

"'Colonel Vaudrey was not present. The officers of the engineers hadcome to join us, ignorant at first of what was to transpire. Certainly, in the eyes of the established Government we are all culpable of havingtaken up arms against it. But I am the most culpable. It is I who, for along time meditating a revolution, came suddenly to lure men from anhonorable social position, to expose them to the hazards of a popularmovement. Before the laws, my companions are guilty of allowingthemselves to be enticed. But never were circumstances more extenuatingin the eyes of the country than those in their favor. When I saw ColonelVaudrey and the other persons on the evening of the 29th, I addressedthem in the following language:

"'"GENTLEMEN, --You are aware of all the complaints of the nation againstthe Government. But you also know that there is no party now existingwhich is sufficiently strong to overthrow it; no one sufficiently strongto unite the French of all parties, even if it should succeed in takingpossession of supreme power. This feebleness of the Government, as wellas this feebleness of parties, proceeds from the fact that each onerepresents only the interests of a single class in society. Some relyupon the clergy and nobility; others upon the middle-class aristocracy, and others still upon the lower classes alone. 

"'"In this state of things, there is but a single flag which can rallyall parties, because it is the banner of France, and not that of afaction; it is the eagle of the Empire. Under this banner, which recallsso many glorious memories, there is no class excluded. It represents theinterests and the rights of all. The Emperor Napoleon held his powerfrom the French people. Four times his authority received the popularsanction. In 1814, hereditary right, in the family of the Emperor, wasrecognized by four millions of votes. Since then the people have notbeen consulted. 

"'"As the eldest of the nephews of Napoleon, I can then consider myselfas the representative of popular election; I will not say of the Empirebecause in the lapse of twenty years the ideas and wants of France mayhave changed. But a principle can not be annulled by facts. It can onlybe annulled by another principle. Now the principle of popular electionin 1804 can not be annulled by the twelve hundred thousand foreignerswho entered France in 1815, nor by the chamber of two hundred andtwenty-one deputies in 1830. 

"'"The Napoleon system consists in promoting the march of civilizationwithout disorder and without excess; in giving an impulse to ideas bydeveloping material interests; in strengthening power by rendering itrespectable; in disciplining the masses according to their intellectualfaculties; in fine, in uniting around the altar of the country theFrench of all parties by giving them honor and glory as the motives ofaction. "

"'"No, " exclaimed my brave companions in reply, "you shall not diealone. We will die with you, or we will conquer together for the causeof the French people. "

"'You see thus, sir, that it is I who have enticed them, in speaking tothem of every thing which could move the hearts of Frenchmen. Theyspoke to me of their oaths. But I reminded them that, in 1815, they hadtaken the oath to Napoleon II. And his dynasty. "Invasion alone, " I saidto them, "released you from that oath. Well, force can re-establish thatwhich force alone has destroyed. "'

"I went even so far as to say to them that the death of the king hadbeen spoken of. I inserted this, my mother, as you will understand, inorder to be useful to them. You see how culpable I was in the eyes ofthe Government. Well, the Government has been generous to me. It hascomprehended that my position of exile, that my love for my country, that my relationship to the great man were extenuating causes. Will thejury be less considerate than the Government? Will it not findextenuating causes far stronger in favor of my accomplices, in thesouvenirs of the Empire; in the intimate relations of many among them tome; in the enticement of the moment; in the example of Labédoyère; infine, in that sentiment of generosity which rendered it inevitable that, being soldiers of the Empire, they could not see the eagle withoutemotion; they preferred to sacrifice their own lives rather than abandonthe nephew of the Emperor Napoleon, than to deliver him to hisexecutioners, for we were far from thinking of any mercy in case offailure?

 "In view of Madeira, December 12, 1836. 

"I remained ten days at the citadel of Port Louis. Every morning Ireceived a visit from the sub-prefect of Lorient, from the commander ofthe place, and from the officer of the gendarmerie. They were all verykind to me, and never ceased to speak to me of their attachment to thememory of the Emperor. The commander, Cuynat, and Lieutenant Thiboutot, were unfailing in their attentions to me. I could ever believe myself inthe midst of my friends, and the thought that they were in a positionhostile to me gave me much pain. 

"The winds remained contrary and prevented the frigate from leavingport. At last, on the 21st, a steamer towed out the frigate. Thesub-prefect came to tell me that it was time to depart. The draw-bridgeof the citadel was lowered. I went forth, accompanied by the hospitableofficers of the place, in addition to those who brought me to Lorient. Ipassed between two files of soldiers, who kept off the crowd of thecurious, which had gathered to see me. 

"We all entered the boats which were to convey us to the frigate, whichwas waiting for us outside of the harbor. I took leave of thesegentlemen with cordiality. I ascended to the deck, and saw with sadnessof heart the shores of France disappear behind me. 

"I must now give you the details of the frigate. The commander hasassigned me a stateroom in the stern of the ship, where I sleep. I dinewith him, his son, the second officer, and the aide-de-camp. Thecommander, captain of the ship, Henry de Villeneuve, is an excellentman, frank and loyal as an old sailor. He pays me every attention. Yousee that I have much less to complain of than my friends. The otherofficers of the frigate are also very kind to me. 

"There are two other passengers who are two types. The one, an M. D. , isa _savant_, twenty-six years of age. He has much intelligence andimagination, mingled with originality, and even with a littleeccentricity. For example, he believes in fortune-telling, andundertakes to predict to each one of us his fate. He has also greatfaith in magnetism, and has told me that a somnambulist had predicted tohim, two years ago, that a member of the family of the Emperor wouldreturn to France and would dethrone Louis Philippe. He is going toBrazil to make some experiments in electricity. The other passenger isan ancient librarian of Don Pedro, who has preserved all the manners ofthe ancient court. Maltreated at Brazil, in consequence of hisattachment to the Emperor, he returns there to obtain redress. 

"The first fifteen days of the voyage were very disagreeable. We werecontinually tossed about by tempests and by contrary winds, which droveus back almost to the entrance of the Channel. It was impossible duringthat time to take a single step without clinging to whatever could beseized with one's hand. 

"For several days we did not know that our destination was changed. Thecommander had sealed orders, which he opened and which directed him togo to Rio Janeiro; to remain there as long as should be necessary tore-provision the vessel; to retain me on board during the whole time thefrigate remained in the harbor, and then to convey me to New York. Nowyou know that this frigate was destined to go to the southern seas, where it will remain stationed for two years. It was thus compelled tomake an additional voyage of three thousand leagues; for from New Yorkit will be obliged to return to Rio, making a long circuit to the eastin order to take advantage of the trade-winds. 

 "In view of the Canaries, December 14th. 

"Every man carries within himself a world, composed of all which he hasseen and loved, and to which he returns incessantly, even when he istraversing foreign lands. I do not know, at such times, which is themost painful, the memory of the misfortunes which you have encountered, or of the happy days which are no more. We have passed through thewinter and are again in summer. The trade-winds have succeeded thetempests, so that I can spend most of my time on deck. Seated upon thepoop, I reflect upon all which has happened to me, and I think of youand of Arenemberg. Situations depend upon the affections which onecherishes. Two months ago I asked only that I might never return toSwitzerland. Now, if I should yield to my impressions, I should have noother desire than to find myself again in my little chamber in thatbeautiful country, where it seems to me that I ought to be so happy. Alas! when one has a soul which feels deeply, one is destined to passhis days in the languor of inaction or in the convulsions of distressingsituations. 

"When I returned, a few months ago, from conducting Matilde, [O] inentering the park I found a tree broken by the storm, and I said tomyself, our marriage will be broken by fate. That which I vaguelyimagined has been realized. Have I, then, exhausted in 1836 all theshare of happiness which is to be allotted to me?

[Footnote O: The Princess Matilde, his cousin, daughter of Jerome, withwhom it is supposed that he then contemplated marriage. ]

"Do not accuse me of feebleness if I allow myself to give you an accountof all my impressions. One can regret that which he has lost, withoutrepenting of that which he has done. Besides, our sensations are not soindependent of interior causes, but that our ideas should be somewhatmodified by the objects which surround us. The rays of the sun or thedirection of the wind have a great influence over our moral state. Whenit is beautiful weather, as it is to-day, the sea being as calm as theLake of Constance when we used to walk upon its banks in theevening--when the moon, the same moon, illumines us with the samesoftened brilliance--when the atmosphere, in fine, is as mild as in themonth of August in Europe, --then I am more sad than usual. All memories, pleasant or painful, fall with the same weight upon my heart. Beautifulweather dilates the heart and renders it more impressible, while badweather contracts it. The passions alone are independent of the changesof the seasons. When we left the barracks of Austerlitz, a flurry ofsnow fell upon us. Colonel Vaudrey, to whom I made the remark, said tome, 'Notwithstanding this squall, we shall have a fine day. '

 "December 29th. 

"We passed the line yesterday. The customary ceremony took place. Thecommander, who is always very polite to me, exempted me from thebaptism. It is an ancient usage, but which, nevertheless, is notsensible, to fête the passage of the line by throwing water over one'sself and aping a divine office. It was very hot. I have found on boardenough books to occupy my time. I have read again the works of M. DeChateaubriand and of J. J. Rousseau. Still, the motion of the shiprenders all occupation fatiguing. "

 "January 1, 1837. 

"MY DEAR MAMMA, MA CHÈRE MAMAN, --This is the first day of the year. I amfifteen hundred leagues from you in another hemisphere. Happily, thoughttraverses that space in less than a second. I am near you. I express toyou my profound regret for all the sorrows which I have occasioned you. I renew to you the expression of my tenderness and of my gratitude. 

"This morning the officers came in a body to wish me a happy new year. Iwas much gratified by this attention on their part. At half-past four wewere at the table. As we were seventeen degrees of longitude west ofConstance, it was at that same time seven o'clock at Arenemberg. Youwere probably at dinner. I drank, in thought, to your health. Youperhaps did the same for me. At least I flattered myself in believing soat that moment. I thought, also, of my companions in misfortune. Alas! Ithink continually of them. I thought that they were more unhappy than I, and that thought renders me more unhappy than they. 

"Present my very tender regards to good Madame Salvage, to the youngladies, to that poor little Clairè, and to M. Cottrau, and to Arsène. 

 "January 5th. 

"We have had a squall, which struck us with extreme violence. If thesails had not been torn to pieces by the wind the frigate would havebeen in great danger. One of the masts was broken. The rain fell soimpetuously that the sea was entirely white. To-day the sky is as sereneas usual, the damages are repaired, and the tempestuous weather isforgotten. But it is not so with the storms of life. In speaking of thefrigate, the commander told me that the frigate which bore your name isnow in the South Sea, and is called _La Flora_. 

 "January 10. 

"We have arrived at Rio Janeiro. The _coup d'oeil_ of the harbor issuperb. To-morrow I shall make a drawing of it. I hope that this letterwill soon reach you. Do not think of coming to join me. I do not yetknow where I shall settle. Perhaps I may find more inducements to livein South America. The labor to which the uncertainty of my lot willoblige me to devote myself, in order to create for myself a position, will be the only consolation which I can enjoy. Adieu, my mother. Remember me to the old servants, and to our friends of Thurgovia and ofConstance. I am very well. Your affectionate and respectful son, "LOUIS NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. "

CHAPTER XI. 

THE DEATH OF HORTENSE, AND THE ENTHRONEMENT OF HER SON. 

1837-1869

Cruel slanders. --Brief stay in this country. --Elevated personalcharacter. --Testimony to his private worth. --Letter from Hortense to herson. --Anxieties, sorrows, and sickness of Hortense. --Letter to MadameRécamier. --Hortense receives letters from her son. --Louis Napoleonreturns to Arenemberg. --Death of Hortense. --Action of the Government ofLouis Philippe. --Burial of Hortense. --Louis Napoleon's love for hismother. --Account of the escape from Ham. --Louis Napoleon inLondon. --Overthrow of Louis Philippe. --Walter Savage Landor. --EmpressEugénie. --Testimony of General Dix. 

After a short tarry at Rio Janeiro, during which the prince was notpermitted to land, the frigate again set sail, and on the 30th of March, 1837, reached Norfolk, Virginia. The prince proceeded immediately to NewYork. By a cruel error, which has mistaken him for one of his cousins, Pierre Bonaparte, a very wild young man, the reputation of LouisNapoleon has suffered very severely in this country. The evidence isconclusive that there has been a mistake. Louis Napoleon, thoughtful, studious, pensive, has ever been at the farthest possible remove fromvulgar dissipation. 

A writer in the _Home Journal_, whose reliability is vouched for by theeditor, says, in reference to his brief residence in New York: "He isremembered as a quiet, melancholy man, winning esteem rather by theunaffected modesty of his demeanor than by eclât of lineage or theromantic incidents which had befallen him. In the words of adistinguished writer, who well knew him at that day: 'So unostentatiouswas his deportment, so correct, so pure his life, that even the rippleof scandal can not appear plausibly upon its surface. ' We have inquiredof those who entertained him as their guest, of those who tended at hissick-bed, of the artist who painted his miniature, of his lady friends(and he was known to some who yet adorn society), of politicians, clergymen, editors, gentlemen of leisure, in fact, of every sourcewhence reliable information could be obtained, and we have gathered butaccumulated testimonials to his intrinsic worth and fair fame. "

Prince Louis Napoleon remained in this country but seven weeks. Thetestimony of all who knew him is uncontradicted, that he was peculiarlywinning in his attractions as a friend, and irreproachable as a man. Rev. Charles S. Stewart, of the United States Navy, was intimatelyacquainted with him during the whole period of his residence here. Hewrites:

"The association was not that of hours only but of days, and on oneoccasion, at least, of days in succession; and was characterized by afreedom of conversation on a great variety of topics that could scarcefail, under the ingenuousness and frankness of his manner, to put me inpossession of his views, principles, and feelings upon most points thatgive insight to character. 

"I never heard a sentiment from him and never witnessed a feeling thatcould detract from his honor and purity as a man, or his dignity as aprince. On the contrary, I often had occasion to admire the loftythought and exalted conceptions which seemed most to occupy his mind. Hewas winning in the invariableness of his amiability, often playful inspirits and manner, and warm in his affections. He was a most fondlyattached son and seemed to idolize his mother. When speaking of her, theintonations of his voice and his whole manner were often as gentle andfeminine as those of a woman. 

"In both eating and drinking he was, as far as I observed, abstemiousrather than self-indulgent. I repeatedly breakfasted, dined, and suppedin his company; and never knew him to partake of any thing stronger indrink than the light wines of France and Germany, and of these in greatmoderation. I have been with him early and late, unexpectedly as wellas by appointment, and never saw reason for the slightest suspicion ofany irregularity in his habits. "

Such is the testimony, so far as can be ascertained, of every one whoenjoyed any personal acquaintance with Louis Napoleon while in thiscountry. He was the guest of Washington Irving, Chancellor Kent, and ofthe Hamiltons, Clintons, Livingstons, and other such distinguishedfamilies in New York. 

While busily engaged in studying the institutions of our country andmaking arrangements for quite an extensive tour through the States, hereceived a letter from his mother which immediately changed all hisplans. The event is thus described by Mr. Stewart:

"With this expectation he consulted me and others as to the arrangementof the route of travel, so as to visit the different sections of theUnion at the most desirable seasons. But his plans were suddenly changedby intelligence of the serious illness of Queen Hortense, or, as thenstyled, the Duchess of St. Leu. I was dining with him the day the letterconveying this information was received. Recognizing the writing on theenvelope, as it was handed to him at the table, he hastily broke theseal and had scarce glanced over half a page before he exclaimed:

"'My mother is ill, I must see her. Instead of a tour of the States, Ishall take the next packet for England. I will apply for passports forthe Continent at every embassy in London, and if unsuccessful, will makemy way to her without them. '"

The following was the letter which he received from his mother:

"MY DEAR SON, --I am about to submit to an operation which has becomeabsolutely necessary. If it is not successful I send you, by thisletter, my benediction. We shall meet again, shall we not? in a betterworld, where may you come to join me as late as possible. In leavingthis world I have but one regret; it is to leave you and youraffectionate tenderness--the greatest charm of my existence here. Itwill be a consolation to you, my dear child, to reflect that by yourattentions you have rendered your mother as happy as it was possible forher, in her circumstances, to be. Think that a loving and a watchful eyestill rests on the dear ones we leave behind, and that we shall surelymeet again. Cling to this sweet idea. It is too necessary not to betrue. I press you to my heart, my dear son. I am very calm and resigned, and hope that we shall again meet in this world. Your affectionatemother, "HORTENSE. "Arenemberg, April 3, 1837. "

As we have mentioned, Queen Hortense, upon receiving news of the arrestof her son, hastened to France to do what she could to save him. MadameRécamier found her at Viry, in great anguish of spirit. When shereceived tidings of his banishment she returned, overwhelmed with thedeepest grief, to her desolated home. It seems that even then aninternal disease, which, with a mother's love, she had not revealed toher son, was threatening her life. Madame Récamier, as she bade heradieu, was much moved by the great change in her appearance. The twofriends never met again. 

Madame Salvage, a distinguished lady, who had devoted herself withlife-long enthusiasm to the Queen of Holland, accompanied her to Franceand returned with her to Arenemberg. On the 13th of April, MadameSalvage wrote the following letter from Arenemberg to Madame Récamier. 

"I wrote you a long letter four days ago, dear friend, telling you of myunhappiness. I received yesterday your letter of the 7th, for which Ithank you. I needed it much, and it is a consolation to me. 

"I have informed Madame, the Duchess of St. Leu, of the lively interestyou take in her troubles, and have given her your message. She was muchtouched by it, even to tears; and has begged me several times to tellyou how much she appreciated it. 

"I have not replied to you sooner, because I hoped to give you bettertidings. Alas! it is quite the contrary. After a consultation of thephysicians of Constance and Zurich with Dr. Conneau, her own physician, Professor Lisfranc, from Paris, was called in, on account of his skill, and also because he is the recognized authority with regard to theoperation two of these gentlemen thought necessary. 

"After a careful examination, the opinion of M. Lisfranc and that of thethree other consulting physicians was, that the operation wasimpossible. They were unanimous in pronouncing an irrevocable sentence, and they have left us no hope in human resources. I still like to trustin the infinite goodness of God, whom I implore with earnest prayers. 

"The mind of madame the duchess is as calm as one could expect in aposition like hers. They told her that they would not perform theoperation because it was not necessary, and because a mere treatmentwould suffice, with time and patience, to produce a perfect cure. Shehad been quite resigned to submit to the operation, showing a noblecourage. Now she is happy in not being obliged to undergo it, and isfilled with hope. 

"In anticipation of the operation, of which, against my advice, she hadbeen told a fortnight before M. Lisfranc came, she made her will andattended to the last duties of religion. 

"On the 30th of March, an hour after she had partaken of the communion, she had the joy, which she looked upon as a divine favor, of receiving alarge package from her son, the first since the departure from Lorient. His letter, which is very long, contains a relation of all he has done, all that has happened to him, and much that he has felt since he leftArenemberg, until he wrote, the 10th of January, on board the frigateAndromeda, lying in the harbor of Rio Janeiro, where he was notpermitted to go on shore. He had on board M. De Chateaubriand's works, and re-read them during a frightful storm that lasted a fortnight, andallowed of no other occupation, and scarcely that. Pray tell this to M. De Chateaubriand, in recalling me personally to his kind remembrance. 

"Think of me sometimes. Think of my painful position. To give to aperson whom we love, and whom we are soon to lose, a care that isperfectly ineffectual; to seek to alleviate sharp and almost continualsuffering, and only succeed very imperfectly; to wear a calm countenancewhen the heart is torn; to deceive, to try unceasingly to inspire hopesthat we no longer cherish, --ah, believe me, this is frightful, and onewould cheerfully give up life itself. Adieu, dear friend, you know how Ilove you. "

Louis Napoleon, hastening to the bedside of his dying mother, took shipfrom New York for London. The hostility of the allied powers to him wassuch that it was with great difficulty he could reach Arenemberg. Hearrived there just in time to receive the dying blessing of his motherand to close her eyes in death. Just before she died, Hortenseassembled all her household in the dying chamber. She took each oneaffectionately by the hand and addressed to each one a few words ofadieu. Her son, her devoted physician Dr. Conneau, and the ladies of herhousehold, bathed in tears, were kneeling by her bedside. Her mind, indelirious dreams, had again been with the Emperor, sympathizing with himin the terrible tragedy of his fall. But now, as death drew near, reasonwas fully restored. "I have never, " said she, "done wrong to any one. God will have mercy upon me. " Conscious that the final moment hadarrived, she made an effort to throw her arms around the neck of her sonin a mother's last embrace, when she fell, back upon her pillow dead. Itwas October 5, 1837. 

The prince, with his own hands, closed his mother's eyes in that sleepwhich knows no earthly waking. He remained for some time upon his kneesat her bedside, with his weeping eyes buried in his hands. At last hewas led away from the precious remains from which it seemed impossiblefor him to separate himself. His home and his heart were indeeddesolate. Motherless, with neither brother nor sister, his aged andinfirm father dying in Italy, where he could not be permitted to visithim, banished from his native land, jealously watched and menaced by allthe allied powers, his fair name maligned, all these considerationsseemed to fill his cup of sorrow to the brim. 

It was the dying wish of Hortense that she might be buried by the sideof Josephine, her mother, in the village church of Ruel, near Malmaison. The Government of Louis Philippe, which had closed the gates of Franceagainst Hortense while living, allowed her lifeless remains to sleepbeneath her native soil. But the son was not permitted to follow hismother to her grave. It was feared that his appearance in France wouldrouse the enthusiasm of the masses; that they would rally around him, and, sweeping away the throne of Louis Philippe in a whirlwind ofindignation, would re-establish the Empire. Madame Récamier, speaking ofthe death of Hortense, says:

"After the unfortunate attempt of Prince Louis, grief, anxiety andperhaps the loss of a last and secret hope, put an end to the turbulentexistence of one who was little calculated to lead such a life ofturmoil. France, closed to her living, was open to her dead, and shewas carried to Ruel and laid beside her mother. A funeral service wascelebrated in her honor at the village church. All the relics of theEmpire were there; among them the widow of Murat, [P] who there witnessedthe ceremony that shortly afterwards was to be performed over herself. 

[Footnote P: Caroline Bonaparte. ]

"It was winter. A thick snow covered the ground. The landscape was assilent and cold as the dead herself. I gave sincere tears to this womanso gracious and so kind; and I learned shortly afterwards that she hadremembered me in her will. It is not without a profound and a religiousemotion that we receive these remembrances from friends who are no more;these pledges of affection which come to you, so to say, from across thetomb, as if to assure you that thoughts of you had followed them as faras there. Judge, then, how touched I was in receiving the legacydestined for me--that light, elegant, and mysterious gift, chosen torecall to me unceasingly the tie that had existed between us. It was alace veil, the one she wore the day of our meeting in St. Peter's. "

In reference to the mother and the son, Julie de Marguerittes writes:"Louis Napoleon's love for his mother had in it a tenderness anddevotion even beyond that of a son. She had been his instructor andcompanion; and from the hour of her change of position she hadmanifested great and noble qualities, which the frivolity and prosperityof a court might forever have left unrevealed. Hortense was a woman tobe loved and revered. And even at this distance of years, Napoleon'slove for his mother has suffered no change. He has striven, in all ways, to associate her with his present high fortune. He has made an air ofher composition, 'Partant pour la Syrie, ' the national air of France. The ship which bore him from Marseilles to Genoa, on his Italianexpedition, is called _La Reine Hortense_, after his mother. "

Scarcely were the remains of Hortense committed to the tomb, ere theSwiss Government received an imperative command from the Government ofLouis Philippe to banish Louis Napoleon from the soil of Switzerland. Tosave the country which had so kindly adopted him from war, the princeretired to London. He could have no hopes of regaining his rights as aFrench citizen until the Government of Louis Philippe should beoverthrown. Another attempt was made at Boulogne in August, 1840. Itproved a failure. Louis Napoleon was again arrested, tried, andcondemned to imprisonment for life. Six years he passed in drearycaptivity in the Castle of Ham. The following brief account of thewonderful escape of the prince is given in his own words, contained in aletter to the editor of the _Journal de la Somme_. 

"MY DEAR M. DE GEORGE, --My desire to see my father once more in thisworld made me attempt the boldest enterprise I ever engaged in. Itrequired more resolution and courage on my part than at Strasburg orBoulogne; for I was determined not to bear the ridicule that attaches tothose who are arrested escaping under a disguise, and a failure I couldnot have endured. The following are the particulars of my escape:

"You know that the fort was guarded by four hundred men, who furnisheddaily sixty soldiers, placed as sentries outside the walls. Moreover, the principal gate of the prison was guarded by three jailers, two ofwhom were constantly on duty. It was necessary that I should first eludetheir vigilance, afterwards traverse the inside court before the windowsof the commandant's residence, and arriving there, I should be obligedto pass by a gate which was guarded by soldiers. 

"Not wishing to communicate my design to any one, it was necessary todisguise myself. As several of the rooms in the building I occupied wereundergoing repairs, it was not difficult to assume the dress of aworkman. My good and faithful valet, Charles Thelin, procured asmock-frock and a pair of wooden shoes, and after shaving off mymustaches I took a plank upon my shoulders. 

"On Monday morning I saw the workmen enter at half-past eight o'clock. Charles took them some drink, in order that I should not meet any ofthem on my passage. He was also to call one of the turnkeys while DeConneau conversed with the others. Nevertheless I had scarcely got outof my room before I was accosted by a workman who took me for one of hiscomrades; and at the bottom of the stairs I found myself in front of thekeeper. Fortunately, I placed the plank I was carrying before my face, and succeeded in reaching the yard. Whenever I passed a sentinel or anyother person I always kept the plank before my face. 

"Passing before the first sentinel, I let my pipe fall and stopped topick up the bits. There I met the officer on duty; but as he was readinga letter he did not pay attention to me. The soldiers at the guard-houseappeared surprised at my dress, and a drummer turned around severaltimes to look at me. I placed the plank before my face, but theyappeared to be so curious that I thought I should never escape themuntil I heard them cry, 'Oh, it is Bernard!'

"Once outside, I walked quickly towards the road of St. Quentin. Charles, who the day before had engaged a carriage, shortly overtook me, and we arrived at St. Quentin. I passed through the town on foot, afterhaving thrown off my smock-frock. Charles procured a post-chaise, underpretext of going to Cambrai. We arrived without meeting with anyhindrance at Valenciennes, where I took the railway. I had procured aBelgian passport, but nowhere was I asked to show it. 

"During my escape, Dr. Conneau, always so devoted to me, remained inprison, and caused them to believe that I was ill, in order to give metime to reach the frontier. It was necessary to be convinced that theGovernment would never set me at liberty if I would not consent todishonor myself, before I could be persuaded to quit France. It was alsoa matter of duty that I should exert all my powers to be able to consolemy father in his old age. 

"Adieu, my dear M. De George. Although free, I feel myself to be mostunhappy. Receive the assurance of my sincere friendship; and if you areable, endeavor to be useful to my kind Conneau. "

It was the latter part of May, 1846, that Louis Napoleon escaped fromHam. He repaired immediately to London. In accordance with his habitsand his tastes, he continued to devote himself earnestly to his studies, still cherishing the unfaltering opinion that he was yet to be theEmperor of France. In London he was cordially welcomed by his oldfriends, Count d'Orsay and Lady Blessington. His cousin Maria of Baden, then Lady Douglass, subsequently the Duchess of Hamilton, was proud toreceive him in her sumptuous abode, and to present him to heraristocratic friends. To her, it is said that he confided his projectsand hopes more frankly than to any one else. In one of his notes hewrote, "MY DEAR COUSIN, --I do not belong to myself, I belong to my name and mycountry. It is because my fortune has twice betrayed me, that my destinyis nearer its accomplishment. I bide my time. "

In the latter part of February, 1848, the throne of Philippe wasoverturned, and he fled from France. Louis Napoleon immediately returnedto Paris after so many weary years of exile. This is not the place todescribe the scenes which ensued. It is sufficient simply to state that, almost by acclamation, he was sent by the people of Paris to theAssembly, was there elected president of the Republic, and then, bynearly eight million of votes, the Empire was re-established and LouisNapoleon was placed upon the imperial throne. 

As soon as Louis Napoleon was chosen president of the French Republic, Walter Savage Landor, a brilliant scholar, a profound, original thinker, and a highly independent and honorable man, wrote as follows to LadyBlessington, under date of January 9th, 1849:

"Possibly you may have never seen the two articles which I enclose. Iinserted another in the 'Examiner, ' deprecating the anxieties which atruly patriotic and, in my opinion, a singularly wise man, was about toencounter, in accepting the presidency of France. Necessity will compelhim to assume the imperial power, to which the voice of the army and ofthe people will call him. You know, who know not merely my writings butmy heart, how little I care for station. I may therefore tell yousafely, that I feel a great interest, a great anxiety for the welfare ofLouis Napoleon. I told him that if he were ever again in prison, I wouldvisit him there, but never if he were upon a throne would I come nearhim. He is the only man living who would adorn one. But thrones are myaversion and abhorrence. France, I fear, can exist in no othercondition. May God protect the virtuous Louis Napoleon, and prolong inhappiness the days of my dear kind friend Lady Blessington. 

 "WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR. 

"P. S. --I wrote a short letter to the President, and not ofcongratulation. May he find many friends as disinterested and sincere. "

Even the blunt Duke of Wellington wrote as follows to the Count d'Orsayunder date of April 9, 1849: "I rejoice at the prosperity of France andof the success of the president of the Republic. Every thing tendstowards the permanent tranquillity of Europe, " which is necessary forthe happiness of all. 

If Hortense from the spirit-land can look down upon her son, her heartmust be cheered in view of the honors which his native land, with suchunprecedented unanimity, has conferred upon him. And still more must herheart be cheered in view of the many, many years of peace, prosperity, and happiness which France has enjoyed under his reign. Everywell-informed man will admit that the kingdom of France has never, sinceits foundations were laid, enjoyed so many years of tranquillity, and ofmental and material advancement at home, and also of respect andinfluence abroad, as during the reign of the son of Hortense. 

The Emperor is eminently happy in his domestic relations. There are nonewho know the Empress Eugénie who do not revere and love her. She is theworthy successor of Josephine, upon the throne of the reinstated empire. The following beautiful tribute to her virtues comes from the lips ofour former distinguished ambassador at the court of France, Hon. John A. Dix. They were uttered in a speech which he addressed to the Americanresidents in Paris, upon the occasion of his surrendering theambassadorial chair to his successor, Hon. Mr. Washburne. It was inJune, 1869. 

"Of her who is the sharer of the Emperor's honors and the companion ofhis toils--who in the hospital, at the altar, or on the throne is alikeexemplary in the discharge of her varied duties, whether incident to herposition, or voluntarily taken upon herself, it is difficult for me tospeak without rising above the level of the common language of eulogism. 

"But I am standing here to-day, as a citizen of the United States, without official relations to my own Government, or any other. I havetaken my leave of the imperial family, and I know no reason why I maynot freely speak what I honestly think; especially as I know I can saynothing which will not find a cordial response in your own breasts. 

"As in the history of the ruder sex, great luminaries have from time totime risen high above the horizon, to break and at the same time toillustrate, the monotony of the general movement, --so in the annals ofhers, brilliant lights have at intervals shone forth, and shed theirlustre upon the stately march of regal pomp and power. 

"When I have seen her taking part in the most imposing of all imperialpageants--the opening of the Legislative Chambers--standing amid theassembled magistracy of Paris, surrounded by the representatives of thetalent, the genius, and the piety of this great empire; or amidst theresplendent scenes of the palace, moving about with a gracefulness allher own, and with a simplicity of manner which has a double charm whenallied to exalted rank and station, I confess that I have more than oncewhispered to myself, and I believe not always inaudibly, the beautifulverse of the graceful and courtly Claudian, the last of the Roman poets, "'Divino semitu, gressu claruit;'

"or, rendered in our own plain English, and stripped of its poetichyperbole, '_The very path she treads is radiant with her unrivalledstep. _'"

THE END.