- i^3> 'tfKWWWrri. 
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 i 
 
 "oYcxq; 
 
 VNIVERSAL CLASSICS 
 LIBRARY 
 
 APPLETON PRENTISS CLARK GRIFFIN 
 LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 
 EDITORIAL DIRECTOR. 
 
 >< 
 
 81 
 
 AlWALTER DUNNE, PUBLISHER 
 
 WASHINGTON fcr LONDON 
 
 ^O^O^OXOXQlQ^^aa^QXQ^'Q^O^Q^O^QVQrQ^lS
 
 Copyright, 1901, 
 
 M. WALTER DUNNE, 
 PUBLISHER
 
 THE BEDCHAMBER OF MARIE ANTOINETTE IN 
 THE PALACE OF FONT Al NEB LEAU 
 
 Hand-painted photogravure
 
 Copyright, 1901 
 
 M. WALTER DUNNE, 
 PUBLISHER
 
 USS 
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 VOLUME I. 
 
 The Bedchamber of Marie Antoinette in the Palace 
 
 of Fontainebleau Frontispiece 
 
 Hand-painted photogravure. 
 
 Napoleon at Cairo 215 
 
 Photogravure after Gerome. 
 
 VOLUME II. 
 
 Napoleon, 1815 . . Frontispiece 
 
 Photogravure after Sandoz. 
 
 The Throne of Napoleon in the Palace of Fontaine- 
 bleau 233 
 
 VOLUME III. 
 
 The Education of the King of Rome .... Frontispiece 
 Hand-painted photogravure after Zamacois. 
 
 Prince Talleyrand 347 
 
 Photogravure after Gerard. 
 
 (vii) 
 
 1£
 
 SPECIAL INTRODUCTION 
 
 Laure Permon Junot, the Duchess of Abrantes was 
 born November 6, 1784, at Montpellier, a year after 
 the signing by ourselves and England of the Defin- 
 itive Treaty of Peace. She came of a Corsican family 
 descended, says tradition, from the line of Comnenus, the 
 Eastern Emperors. Madame de Permon, her mother, was 
 an intimate friend of Madame Lastitia Bonaparte. The 
 two families were neighbors at Ajaccio, the children in 
 consequence playmates. Madame Junot's acquaintance 
 with Napoleon dates then from his boyhood. In these 
 memoirs, as she says, she conducts him, as it were, by 
 the hand almost from the cradle to mature age through 
 the world, which rang with his marvelous deeds to the 
 end of it all — Waterloo. She draws him in many moods 
 and characters — the man in if not of peace as well as 
 the man of blood and conscript youths. She was on 
 terms of close intimacy with Josephine and spent many 
 days at Malmaison. A participant in the excitements and 
 social life of the French Capital and acquainted with the 
 celebrities of the day her memoirs abound in anecdote; 
 and the social recollections from her own life are related 
 in a charming and vivacious style throughout. Doubt- 
 less, as has been said, they bear errors of composition, 
 and, at times, are historically inexact, some of the recol- 
 lections being perhaps more fictitious than real, romance 
 rather than history. But even granting this these memoirs 
 of a remarkable and brilliant woman are full of life and 
 charm and present a truthful picture in the main of 
 illustrious and conspicuous phases of a very wonderful 
 period of the history of France and of the world. 
 
 It was after the French Revolution that the Permon 
 family came to Paris, sent there, it is said, by the father 
 to secure good matches for his daughters. Their pretty 
 house in Chaussee d'Autin became a favorite gathering 
 place of a mixed society composed of those of the ancien 
 regime who survived the days of Terror, and of the 
 
 (ix)
 
 x MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 young officers who thronged Paris in the days preceding 
 the rising of Napoleon's star of glory. Madame de Per- 
 mon, somewhat of an aristocrat, drew the former, and 
 the daughters, beautiful and witty, attracted the latter. 
 Madame de Permon herself was beautiful and of remark- 
 ably youthful appearance for her years. Madame Junot 
 says that Napoleon asked her mother to marry him but 
 that she being so many years his senior merely smiled 
 on his suit This story, however, is probably one of the 
 romances, there being, I believe, no evidence for the 
 truth of it. 
 
 Among the officers who frequented the Permon's draw- 
 ing rooms the only one that concerns the subject of this 
 note was Andoche Junot, afterward the Duke of Abran- 
 tes. General of Hussars, Ambassador of France and Com- 
 mander Supreme in Portugal, Governor of Paris and 
 Governor General of Illyria, one of Napoleon's bravest 
 and most energetic captains. To this soldier of France 
 Laure Permon was united in marriage. It was a brilliant 
 contract. Junot in person was eminently handsome but 
 his manners have been represented as coarse and his 
 character rapacious and cruel. He had, however, a con- 
 siderable share of moral as well as physical energy. His 
 portrait as painted by his wife does him more honor than 
 other writers give him. To her he had a "superior 
 mind; he was a stranger to falsehood and was endowed 
 with a generosity which his enemies have endeavored to 
 represent as a vice." This is an allusion to his extrava- 
 gant tastes and reckless expenditure of money — reckless- 
 ness in which his wife unfortunately shared. Of the 
 considerable fortunes, says Las Cases, which the Emperor 
 had bestowed that of Junot was one of the most lavish, 
 the sum he had given him almost exceeded belief, yet he 
 was always in debt, he squandered fortunes without 
 credit to himself and without discernment or taste. At 
 the time of their marriage Napoleon gave Laure Permon 
 and Junot one hundred thousand francs and at the birth 
 :heir first child in 1801 another one hundred thousand 
 ncs and a house in the Champs Elysees. This child, 
 a daughter, had for sponsors Bonaparte and Josephine. 
 Her godfather gave her a beautiful pearl necklace and 
 the sum of money above mentioned was given in the 
 name of Josephine and was for the purpose of furnishing
 
 SPECIAL INTRODUCTION xi 
 
 the house. Thus munificently did Napoleon start his 
 boyhood companion on the road of life. But her extrava- 
 gance outran the generosity of even so powerful a friend 
 and her debts piled up as high and as rapidly as the 
 tradesmen would let them. She went with her husband 
 to Lisbon, and there her retinue and surroundings were 
 more expensive than those of a queen. On her return 
 to Paris, her generous style of living increased if it were 
 possible and through a feeling inherited, no doubt, from 
 her mother's partiality to the old class, she opened her 
 drawing room to the older families, as well as to the new 
 men of the Empire. But the Emperor at this time re- 
 garded his old acquaintance with suspicion. 
 
 Madame Junot accompanied her husband through the 
 Spanish campaign, and, it is said, contrived to give 
 pleasant balls and drawing rooms all along the route. 
 Truly a life replete with the excitement and the glory 
 that were the only thoughts of France. After her hus- 
 band's sad and tragic death in 1813, Napoleon, reverting 
 perhaps to his recent suspicion, forbade her return to 
 Paris; but it seems to have been but a perfunctory pro- 
 hibition for she ignored his command and returning to 
 Paris, opened her house and again attracted to it all the 
 celebrities of the day. But the end was soon to come; 
 the Empire terminated and with it many careers and 
 fortunes. Junot had in his lifetime been in possession 
 of an income of more than a million of francs and now 
 his widow, penniless and utterly ruined, was compelled, 
 in her poverty, to seek an asylum in L'Abbaye-au-Bois. 
 Fallen from so high a rank and fortune she exhibited 
 the true greatness of her nature and bore her reverses 
 with a fortitude becoming a "woman of France." 
 
 It was in this period that she sought solace in recollections 
 of the past and with zeal devoted herself to literature. 
 In this manner her memoirs came to be written. She 
 was the writer also of articles and romances that were 
 widely read. She died in Paris, June 7, 1838. "At 
 once," as her biographer describes her, "an artist and a 
 fine lady, a' woman of letters and of the drawing room, 
 generous to a fault with her money and her intelligence, 
 as cheerful in poverty as in wealth, as much admired by 
 Parisian society in the most humble apartment as in her 
 splendid mansion in the Champs Elysees, a noble nature,
 
 xii MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 above vulgar ambitions and petty calculations, the Duch- 
 ess d'Abrantes occupies a place apart among the cele- 
 brated women of the Consulate and the Empire." In her 
 life, in her associations and surroundings, and in the 
 friendships she inspired Laure de Permon, Madame Ju- 
 not, Duchess d'Abrantes was no ordinary woman, and 
 the recollections that she has left to us of her life and 
 times give us pages that will bear many readings before we 
 tire of them. 
 
 -ST , lj\ , xMrxAAJUiSLZut*
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Special Introduction ix 
 
 Prefatory Remarks by the Author i 
 
 Author's Introduction 3 
 
 Chapter I. — Intimacy of the Permon and the Bonaparte families . 9 
 
 Chap. II. — Napoleon as a young man — Life in Paris 16 
 
 Chap. III. — Death of Napoleon's father ^in the Permon house . . 22 
 Chap. IV. — Sub- Lieutenant Bonaparte, his first appearance in uni- 
 form — Scene at Malmaison 28 
 
 Chap. V. — Popular ferment — Louis XVI. — Firing on the crowd . 34 
 Chap. VI. — Opening of the States-General — Mirabeau, his manner, 
 
 genius, and character 39 
 
 Chap. VII. — Revolutionary scenes — Louis XVI. at the Hotel de 
 
 Ville 48 
 
 Chap. VIII. — Murder of the Princess de Lamballe, the King, and 
 
 Madame Elizabeth 53 
 
 Chap. IX. — Arrest of General Bonaparte — His speech at Ajaccio — 
 
 Lieutenant Junot offers to come to his rescue 57 
 
 Chap. X. — Madame Permon's return to Paris — Visit from General 
 
 Bonaparte — Reception at Madame Permon's 64 
 
 Chap. XL — Destitute circumstances of General Bonaparte — His 
 friend Lieutenant Junot — Junot's proposal for the hand of Pau- 
 line Bonaparte . < 70 
 
 Chap. XII. — The Convention — Salicetti in hiding — Inconvenient 
 
 visit of General Bonaparte 77 
 
 Chap. XIII. — Suicide of Romme, Goujon, and Duquesnoi ... 87 
 Chap. XIV. — A new " valet " — The escape of Salicetti — Penetra- 
 tion of Napoleon — Journey to the South of France 91 
 
 Chap. XV. — Suspicions of M. Permon — Bonaparte incorruptible . 97 
 Chap. XVI. — Atrocities in the South — General Bonaparte's kind- 
 ness — The barricades — Death of M. Permon 103 
 
 Chap. XVII. — The Veuve Permon returns to Paris — General Bona- 
 parte of great assistance — Furnishing a new house . . . .114 
 Chap. XVIII. — Proposals of marriage — General Bonaparte asks 
 also for the hand of the Veuve Permon, and is refused — Dimo 
 Stephanopoli's commission — Quarrel with General Bonaparte . 121 
 Chap. XIX. — M. de Geouffre — His marriage with Cecile Permon 
 
 — Her early death — The Comte de Perigord — The younger 
 Permon receives an appointment 129 
 
 Chap. XX. — Sketches of Parisian society — Madame de D 
 
 — Madame Tallien — Madame Bonaparte 141 
 
 (xiii)
 
 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Chap. XXI.— Triumphs of the Army of Italy— Lucienand Christine 
 Bonaparte — Albert Permon's escapade — Reception of Bona- 
 parte in Paris 146 
 
 Chap. XXII. — A false alarm of Madame Permon's death, and its 
 consequences 15^ 
 
 Chap. XXIII. — Joseph Bonaparte and his wife — Caroline Bona- 
 parte 160 
 
 Chap. XXIV. — Madame Bonaparte's indiscretions — M. de Caulain- 
 court — Napoleon's conversation with Albert Permon .... 167 
 
 Chap. XXV. — Colonel Junot — Junot at the Siege of Toulon — His 
 attachment to Napoleon — Death of Muiron — Junot's gallantry 
 to Madame de Brionne — " La Tempete " 174 
 
 Chap. XXVI. — Junot appointed General — His services in Egypt — 
 Duel with General Lanusse — Junot's ship taken by the English 
 
 — Admiral Nelson — Sir Sidney Smith's chivalry — He chal- 
 lenges Napoleon to a duel 189 
 
 Chap. XXVII. — Madame Bonaparte-Leclerc — Rudeness of Madame 
 de Contades — Madame Marmont 198 
 
 Chap. XXVIII.— General Hoche — Madame Tallien (Cabarrus) — 
 La Citoyenne Bonaparte — Junot's flirtation with a pretty fem- 
 me de chambre 205 
 
 Chap. XXIX.— Generals Championnet and Joubert — General 
 Suchet — General Bonaparte at vingt-et-un 211 
 
 Chap. XXX.— Madame Lsetitia — Sudden return of Napoleon from 
 
 Egvpt — Family scandals 215 
 
 Chap. XXXI. — General Moreau — The crisis — Dangerous position 
 of Bonaparte — Gohier and Moreau 220 
 
 Chap. XXXII. — Revolution of the 8th of November — The Council 
 of Five Hundred — Lucien Bonaparte — The murder at the Cha- 
 teau de Vitry 230 
 
 Chap. XXXIII. — General Massena at Genoa — The Battle of Ma- 
 rengo — General Kellermann — Death of Desaix 239 
 
 Chap. XXXIV. — Death of Madame Lucien Bonaparte — Grief of 
 
 Lucien 246 
 
 Chap. XXXV.— Intended betrothal of Laura Permon — Return of 
 General Junot — His appointment as Governor of Paris — 
 Othello — Madame Foures — 'Junot's search for a wife — 
 Madame Permon mistaken for the widow of Marshal Turenne . 249 
 
 Chap. XXXVI. — General Junot proposes for Laura Permon's hand 
 
 — His impatience — Conversation between Junot and the First 
 Consul 258 
 
 Chap. XXXVII.— General Murat's marriage — His person and 
 dress 267 
 
 Chap. XXXVIII. — General Junot's familj — Conversation of the 
 
 First Consul with Corvisart 273 
 
 Chap. XXXIX. — Anecdote of Fouche — Amusing predicament of 
 
 eral Berthier 278 
 
 OiAi . XL. — Madame Permon goes to the opera and sees the First 
 Consul arrive, after the attempt made to assassinate him — The 
 conspiracy of Ceracchi and Arena 286
 
 CONTENTS xv 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Chap. XLI. — Illness of Madame Permon — Burglars in the house — 
 
 The recital of the event to the Emperor in 1806 301 
 
 Chap. XLII. — Lucien Bonaparte's views — Laura Permon's mar- 
 riage contract — Albert Permon made Commissary General of 
 Police — A civil marriage only intended, and objected to — Wed- 
 ding presents 308 
 
 Chap. XLIII. — The civil marriage of General Junot and Mademoi- 
 selle Permon — The Abbe Lusthier — The midnight marriage 
 at the church of the Capuchins 320 
 
 Chap. XLIV. — General Junot's comrades-in-arms — Lannes — 
 Duroc — Bessieres — Rapp — Berthier — Eugene Beauharnais — 
 M. de Lavalette — Madame Bacciochi (Bonaparte) 326 
 
 Chap. XLV. — M. de Caulaincourt and Generals Rapp and Lannes — 
 Tragi-comic scene 332 
 
 Chap. XLVI. — Presented at Court — The First Consul — Mademoi- 
 selle de Beauharnais 336 
 
 Chap. XLVII. — The wedding ball — Napoleon accepts an invitation 
 
 — The ball deferred 341 
 
 Chap. XLVIII. — The ball — The famous dancers — Conversation 
 
 with Napoleon 347 
 
 Chap. XLIX. — Lucien Bonaparte — Embarrassment of the First 
 Consul 357 
 
 Chap. L. — Madame Bonaparte's apartments — The new Court — 
 The Diplomatic Corps 362 
 
 Chap. LI. — Revival of public prosperity — A satirical picture — 
 
 Popularity of Napoleon 371 
 
 Chap. LII. — Napoleon's liaison with Pauline Foures — Gallantry of 
 
 Kleber 375 
 
 Chap. LIII. — Junot's work in Paris — Chevalier's conspiracy — 
 
 The Chouans 382 
 
 Chap. LIV. — Napoleon at the opera — The infernal machine — 
 
 General alarm 386 
 
 Chap. LV. — The First Consul condemns the emigrants — Madame 
 
 Murat 396 
 
 Chap. LVI. — Breakfast with Madame Bonaparte — Visit to the 
 
 lions 402 
 
 Chap. LVII. — Madame Junot's receptions — Cambaceres — Bon- 
 mot of Bonaparte — General Mortier 407 
 
 Chap. LVIII. — A petitioner is rewarded by Napoleon — The 
 Governor of the Bastile and the pension — General Charbonnier. 419 
 
 Chap. LIX. — M. Charles — His friendship for the Empress Jose- 
 phine — A divorce 431 
 
 Chap. LX. — Kleber's tribute to Napoleon — Affairs in Egypt — Dis- 
 like of Tallien 436 
 
 Chap. LXI. — Lucien's embassy to Madrid — Reduction of Egypt 
 
 — The Queen's sister 440 
 
 Chap. LXII. — Malmaison — Insincerity of the Empress Josephine. 446 
 Chap. LXIII. — Theatricals at Malmaison — A curious scene — A 
 
 night alarm 450
 
 PREFATORY REMARKS 
 
 BY 
 
 THE DUCHESSE D'ABRANTES 
 
 As the "Commentaries" of Caesar, the military "Memoirs" 
 of Marshal Villars, the « Reveries B of Marshal Saxe, 
 etc., relate solely to military affairs, — sieges, bat- 
 tles, etc., — so, I think, should contemporary memoirs 
 render a faithful account of those incidents which are 
 passing immediately around the author at the period of 
 which he is treating, for the benefit of those who come 
 after him. Every object should take its proper form 
 and coloring, and that coloring should arouse in the 
 mind of the reader a vivid impression of the event and 
 its attendant circumstances; not the ball only should be 
 described, but the ball-dress. 
 
 To be exact in such matters is a duty, for if the author 
 be not expected to paint like Tacitus the vices of gov- 
 ernments, corrupt, despotic, or declining, his pencil should 
 trace the general outline of all that he has seen. In this 
 picture the daily scenes of the drawing-room should 
 especially have their place; to speak of them is to por- 
 tray them. To dress the personages in the coat or the 
 gown they wore on the occasion under review, if one be 
 fortunate enough to remember it, is to lay on those fresh 
 and lively colors which give to the whole the charm of 
 reality. 
 
 This appears to me to be the grand attraction of the 
 Memoirs of Madame de Motteville, of Mademoiselle ! 
 They are almost always badly written, frequently guilty 
 of the grossest faults of style, yet what truth in their 
 descriptions ! We become acquainted with the individ- 
 uals we read of; and when Madame de Motteville speaks 
 of the cambric sheets of Queen Anne, and the violet 
 robe embroidered with pearls which she wore on the day 
 1 (i)
 
 2 PREFATORY REMARKS 
 
 when she sat in Council for the reigstering the edicts of 
 toleration; and when Mademoiselle describes the form of 
 her own shoes on the day when, according to the ex- 
 pression of M. de Luxembourg, she established the for- 
 tune of a cadet of good family, I imagine myself in the 
 Parliament of 1649 with the Queen, M. de Beaufort, M. 
 the Coadjutor, and all the great men of the Fronde, or 
 I fancy myself in the orangery of Versailles with Ma- 
 demoiselle, in her white satin robe trimmed with carnation 
 ribands and tassels of rubies. 
 
 The writer of memoirs must give life to the scenes he 
 represents, and that excess of detail which would destroy 
 any other work can alone produce the desired effect in 
 this. Therefore it is that I have given a catalogue of 
 my corbeille and trousseau. We should rejoice in these 
 days to find in Philip de Comines a description of a 
 corbeille of the time of Louis XI. or Philip the Good; 
 happily, he gives us better things.
 
 THE 
 
 AUTHOR'S INTRODUCTION 
 
 T O T HE 
 
 ORIGINAL EDITION. 
 
 Everybody nowadays publishes Memoirs; everyone has 
 recollections which they think worthy of recording-. 
 Following the example of many others, I might long 
 ago have taken a retrospective view of the past; I might 
 have revealed a number of curious and unknown facts 
 respecting a period which has riveted the interest of the 
 world ; but the truth is, I was not, until recently, infected 
 with the mania which is so universal of memoir writing, 
 yet I felt a certain degree of vexation whenever I ob- 
 served an announcement of new memoirs. 
 
 I commenced my life at a period fertile in remarkable 
 events, and I lived in habits of daily intimacy with the 
 actors of the great political drama which has engrossed 
 the attention of Europe for thirty-five years. 
 
 I have witnessed, or have taken part in, many of the 
 exciting scenes which occurred during an epoch of won- 
 der and horror; and though I was at the time very 
 young, every incident remains indelibly engraven on 
 my memory. The importance of events on which the 
 fate of a great nation depended could not fail to influ- 
 ence the bent of my mind. This influence, I imagine, 
 must have been felt by all women who have been my 
 contemporaries. With regard to myself, at least, I can 
 confidently affirm that I retain no recollection of the joys 
 of early childhood — of the light-heartedness which at 
 that period of life annihilates sorrow, and leaves behind 
 an imperishable impression. 
 
 No sooner did my understanding begin to develop it- 
 self than I was required to employ it in guarding all my 
 
 (3)
 
 4 AUTHOR'S INTRODUCTION 
 
 words and gestures; for at the period to which I allude, 
 the veriest trifle might become the subject of serious in- 
 vestigation. Even the sports and games of childhood 
 were rigorously watched, and I shall never forget that a 
 domiciliary visit was made to our house at Toulouse, and 
 my father was on the point of being arrested because, 
 while playing at the game called La Tour, prends garde! 
 I said to a little boy of five years old, (< You shall be 
 Monsieur le Dauphin." Continual danger imposed on 
 even,- individual the obligation of not only guarding his 
 own conduct, but observing that of others. Nothing, 
 however trifling, was a matter of indifference to the 
 heads of families and those who surrounded them; and the 
 child of ten years old became an observer. 
 
 It was in the midst of these anxieties that my first years 
 were passed: later on our lives resumed their normal 
 course, and a mother of a family ceased to tremble for 
 the fate of a father and a husband. At the period to 
 which I refer, the misfortunes of France were at their 
 height. The impressions which I then imbibed are per- 
 haps the strongest I ever experienced. 
 
 The private interests of my family became linked with 
 public events. Between my mother and the Bonaparte 
 family the closest friendship subsisted. He who after- 
 ward became the master of the world lived long on a 
 footing of intimacy with us. He used to frequent my 
 father's house when I was yet a child, and he scarcely a 
 young man. I may almost say that I have witnessed 
 every scene of his life ; for being married to one of those 
 men who were devotedly attached to him, and constantly 
 with him, what I did not myself see I was accurately in- 
 formed of. I may, therefore, fearlessly affirm that of all 
 the individuals who have written about Napoleon, few 
 are so competent as myself to give a detailed account of 
 him. My mother, who was the friend of Laetitia Bona- 
 parte, knew him from his earliest youth. She rocked 
 him in his cradle, and, when he quitted Brienne and 
 came to Paris, she guided and protected his younger 
 days. 
 
 Not only Napoleon, but his brothers and sisters formed 
 part of our family. I shall presently speak of the friend- 
 ship which arose between myself and Napoleon's sisters, 
 a friendship which one of them has entirely forgotten.
 
 AUTHOR'S INTRODUCTION 5 
 
 When my mother quitted Corsica to follow my father to 
 France, the friendly relations which subsisted between 
 her and the Bonaparte family suffered no change by 
 absence or distance. The conduct of my parents toward 
 Bonaparte, the father, when he came to Montpellier with 
 his son and his brother-in-law, to die far from his coun- 
 try and all that was dear to him, should never be for- 
 gotten by either of the two families. It should be 
 remembered by the one with gratitude, and by the other 
 with that feeling of satisfaction which the performance 
 of a good action creates. 
 
 The other members of the Bonaparte family were also 
 favorites of my mother. Lucien found in her more than 
 a common friend. When he formed that strange union 
 with Mademoiselle Boyer my mother received his wife 
 as her own daughter. Of our intimacy with Madame 
 Joseph Bonaparte and Madame Leclerc the details of which 
 I shall enter into in the course of these volumes will 
 afford an accurate idea. My husband's connection with 
 Bonaparte commenced with the siege of Toulon, and from 
 that time they continued united until Junot's death. 
 Thus, I may say that, without having been always near 
 Bonaparte, I possessed the most authentic means of being 
 accurately informed of every action, private or public. 
 
 It will be understood by what I have here stated that 
 while I profess to be the only person who perfectly well 
 knew every particularity of Napoleon, it is not mere pre- 
 sumption that prompts me to say so; the details which 
 will be found in the following pages I derive from other 
 sources than those which usually feed biographical 
 sketches. 
 
 In preparing these Memoirs how many past recollections 
 have revived! How many dormant griefs have awakened! 
 In spite of the general fidelity of my memory, I occasion- 
 ally met with dates and facts the remembrance of which, 
 though not effaced, had faded by the course of time. 
 They were speedily restored ; but I must confess that my 
 task has been a laborious and painful one; and nothing 
 could have urged me forward to its execution but the 
 conviction that it must be done. It may, perhaps, be 
 alleged that I could have answered in a pamphlet of fifty 
 pages all that has been said in the attacks directed from 
 hostile quarters against my husband and myself. I at
 
 6 AUTHOR'S INTRODUCTION 
 
 first thought of doing- so, but I found this impracticable. 
 In taking up the pen my object was to make a complete, 
 not a summary, refutation of the untruths that have been 
 advanced. This could not be done in a few lines. It is 
 not my intention to criminate anyone; I shall merely state 
 facts, and all shall be supported by written evidence. 
 
 The autograph documents which I have deposited in 
 the hands of my publisher will be open to those who may 
 wish to examine them. 
 
 Among the attacks aimed at the Due d'Abrantes, there 
 is one of a very absurd nature. The assailant's memory 
 betrayed him, and by a fortunate chance a letter in his 
 own handwriting falsifies what he has said in his book: 
 there is, perhaps, nothing more venomous than the sting 
 of ridicule. 
 
 With regard to what concerns me and my family in 
 the " Memorial de Saint e Hdene* I conceive myself in duty 
 bound to reply to it. I have always viewed as the height 
 of absurdity that pride which is founded on an origin 
 more or less illustrious. But if that pride be ridiculous, 
 the usurpation of a great name, a false pretension to 
 noble descent, is the extreme of baseness. Such being 
 my opinion, it will readily be conceived that I am not 
 inclined to pass over in silence that chapter in the 
 a Memorial dc Saint e Htflene w which treats of the family of 
 my mother. My grandfather and my uncles, far from set- 
 ting up false claims to family greatness, wished, on the 
 contrary, to extinguish a noble name, which, when 
 stripped of the splendor with which it ought to be sur- 
 rounded, becomes to its possessors a source of annoyance 
 and humiliation. Such was the intention of my grand- 
 father, the last privileged chief of the Greek colony in 
 Italy, a shadow of sovereignty and a toy with which he 
 wished to have no more concern. 
 
 He had but one daughter, my mother, and he made 
 her promise never to reassume her family name, a vow 
 which I am sure my mother would have religiously kept 
 to this day had she lived. My grandfather died a young 
 man. He was captain of cavalry in the French service 
 (in the regiment, de Valliere), a noble Corsican and not 
 Memorial de Sainte Hilene* asserts. As 
 to obtaining an acknowledgment of the dignity of the 
 ( :nr.ena family, he entertained no such idea. My grand-
 
 AUTHOR'S INTRODUCTION 7 
 
 father died in 1768, and the family was acknowledged in 
 1782; the letters patent are dated 1783 and 1784. 
 
 I consider the publication of these Memoirs to be a 
 duty to my family, and, above all, to the memory of my 
 husband. Often during political storms a veil is thrown 
 over some part of an illustrious life: the arm of Junot, 
 which for twenty-two years defended his country, is now 
 in the grave, and cannot now remove the veil with which 
 jealousy and envy would envelop his fame. It remains, 
 therefore, for me, the mother of his children, to fulfill 
 that sacred duty, and to furnish the materials which can 
 permit him to be fairly judged. 
 
 Laure Junot.
 
 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Place and Date of My Birth — Calomeros and Bonaparte — My Father's 
 Departure for America — Intimacy between My Mother and 
 Madame Lsetitia — Bonaparte's Boyhood — The Basket of Grapes 
 and the Flogging — Saveria and the Bonaparte Family — My Fa- 
 ther's Return — My Birth and My Mother's Illness. 
 
 I was born at Montpellier on the 6th of November, 
 1784. My family was then temporarily established at 
 Languedoc, to enable my father the more easily to 
 exercise the duties of an official appointment which he 
 had obtained on his return from America. My mother, 
 like myself, was born beneath the tent which her parents 
 had pitched in a foreign land. From the shores of the 
 Bosphorus her family had emigrated to the solitudes of 
 the Taygetes, which they quitted to inhabit the moun- 
 tains of Corsica. 
 
 When Constantine Comnenus landed in Corsica in 1676 
 at the head of the Greek colony, he had with him sev- 
 eral sons, one of whom was named Calomeros. This son 
 he sent to Florence, on a mission to the Grand Duke of 
 Tuscany. Constantine dying before the return of his 
 son, the Grand Duke prevailed on the young Greek 
 to renounce Corsica and fix his abode in Tuscany. After 
 some interval of time, an individual named Calomeros 
 came from Italy — indeed, from Tuscany, and fixed his 
 abode in Corsica, where his descendants formed the fam- 
 ily of Buonaparte; for the name Calomeros, literally Ital- 
 ianized, signified buona parte or bella parte* The only 
 question is, whether the Calomeros who left Corsica, and 
 the Calomeros who came there, have a direct filiation. 
 
 * Napoleon omitted the u in Buonaparte while General-in-Chief in 
 May, 1796. 
 
 (9)
 
 io MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUXOT 
 
 Two facts, however, are certain, namely, the departure of 
 the one, and the arrival of the other. 
 
 It is a singular circumstance that the Comneni, in 
 speaking of the Bonaparte family, always designate them 
 by the names Calomeros, Calomeri, or Calomeriani, ac- 
 cording as they allude to one individual or several col- 
 lectivelv. Both families were united by the most intimate 
 friendship. 
 
 When the Greeks were obliged to abandon Paomia to 
 escape the persecutions of the insurgent Corsicans, they 
 established themselves temporarily in towns which re- 
 mained faithful to the republic of Genoa. When, at a 
 subsequent period, Cargesa was granted to the Greeks 
 for the purpose of forming a new establishment, a few 
 Greek families continued to reside at Ajaccio. Among 
 these was the family of the privileged chief; and my 
 mother lived alternately at Ajaccio and Cargesa. 
 
 At this time she contracted a friendship with Laetitia 
 Ramolini, the mother of Napoleon. They were about 
 the same age, and both extremely beautiful. Their 
 beauty, however, was of so different a character, that no 
 feeling of jealousy could arise between them. Madame 
 Laetitia Bonaparte was graceful and pretty; but without 
 any filial vanity I may truly say that I never in all my 
 life saw so fine a woman as my mother. At fourteen 
 she was the gayest and most sprightly young girl in the 
 whole colony, and it might be said in the whole island, 
 but for Laetitia Ramolini. 
 
 Laetitia was indeed a handsome woman. Those who 
 knew her in advanced life thought her countenance some- 
 what harsh; but that expression, instead of being caused 
 by any austerity of disposition, seemed on the contrary 
 to have been produced by timidity. She was a woman 
 who evinced very superior qualities in all the circum- 
 stances in which she was placed, in bad as well as 
 good fortune. Her son rendered her justice, though 
 
 mewhat tardily. He himself helped to keep up an er- 
 ; Lnion respecting her; and though he corrected 
 r et the impression was given and received 
 
 Previously to entering into negotiation with the Re- 
 public of Genoa, France supplied troops for the purpose 
 reducing the Corsicans to obedience. Among the 
 nch who were connected with the army there was a
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES n 
 
 young man of twenty, possessing an agreeable person. 
 He fenced like the celebrated Saint George, was a 
 delightful performer on the violin, and though distin- 
 guished by the elegant manners of a man of rank, he 
 was nevertheless only a commoner. 
 
 He had said, (< I will risk my fortune, and will advance 
 myself in the world w ; and he had said it with that sort 
 of determination which nothing can resist, because it 
 overcomes everything. On his arrival in Corsica he had 
 already an honorable fortune to offer to the lady whom 
 he might wish to make his wife. He fixed his choice on 
 the pearl of the island. He sought and obtained the 
 hand of my mother. This gentleman was M. de Permon, 
 my father. 
 
 My parents left Corsica and came to France, where my 
 father's affairs demanded his presence. Some years after 
 he obtained an important appointment in America, whither 
 he proceeded, ■ taking with him my brother, then only 
 eight years of age. My mother, with the rest of her 
 young family, repaired to Corsica, to reside with my 
 grandmother, until my father's return. This was before 
 my birth. It was on my mother's return to Corsica that 
 she first saw Napoleon. He was then a child, and she 
 has often carried him in her arms. He was the playmate 
 of an elder sister of mine, who died a melancholy death. 
 Napoleon recollected her perfectly, and used to speak of 
 her af,ter he came to Paris. 
 
 He was fond of conversing about Corsica, and often, 
 after having dined at our family table, he would sit 
 before the fireplace, his arms crossed before him, and 
 would say: (< Come, Signora Panoria, let us talk about 
 Corsica and Signora Laetitia. ® This was the name he 
 always gave his mother when he was speaking of her to 
 perscns with whom he was intimate. (< How is Signora 
 Laetitia ? n he used to say to me — or, when addressing 
 her, he would say: "Well, Signora Laetitia, how do you 
 like the Court? You do not like it, I see. That is 
 because you do not receive company enough. I have 
 given you a handsome palace, a fine estate, and a million 
 a year, and yet you live like a citizen's wife of the Rue 
 Saint Denis. Come, come, you must see more company; 
 
 but company of another kind from the C s and 
 
 CI de s.»
 
 12 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUXOT 
 
 My mother and my uncles have a thousand times 
 assured me that Napoleon in his boyhood had none of 
 that singularity of character which has often been 
 attributed to him. He had good health, and was in other 
 respects like other boys. 
 
 Madame Bonaparte had brought with her to France a 
 nurse named Saveria. It was curious to hear this 
 woman speak of the family she had brought up, each 
 member of which was seated on a throne. She related 
 a number of curious anecdotes respecting them, and I 
 used to be very fond of conversing with her. I observed 
 that she was less attached to some members of the 
 family than to others, and I asked her the reason of 
 As I know not whether she may yet be living, 
 I will say nothing to compromise her with persons to 
 whom her preference might be offensive. All I shall say 
 that she adored the Emperor and Lucien. 
 
 She one day described to me several little scenes con- 
 nected with the boyhood of Napoleon, who remained in 
 Corsica until he was nine years of age; and she con- 
 firmed to me one fact, which I had frequently heard 
 from his mother, viz, that when he was reprimanded 
 for any fault he seldom cried. In Corsica, the prac- 
 tice of beating children is common in all classes of so- 
 ciety. When Napoleon happened to be beaten, he would 
 sometimes shed a few tears, but they were soon over; and 
 he would never utter a word in the way of begging pardon. 
 On this subject, I will relate an anecdote which I heard 
 from himself. He told it me to give me an example of 
 moderation. 
 
 He was one day accused by one of his sisters of hav- 
 ing eaten a basketful of gTapes, figs, and citrons, which 
 had come from the garden of his uncle the Canon. 
 None but those who are acquainted with the Bonaparte 
 family can form any idea of the enormity of this offense. 
 To eat fruit belonging to the uncle the Canon was in- 
 finitely more criminal than to eat grapes and figs which 
 might be claimed by anybody else. 
 
 An inquiry took place. Napoleon denied the fact, and 
 was whipped. He was told that if he would beg par- 
 don he should be forgiven. He protested that he was 
 innocent, but he was not believed. If I recollect rightly, 
 his mother was at the time on a visit to M. de Marbeuf,
 
 DUCHESS OF ABR ANTES 13 
 
 or some other friend. The result of Napoleon's obsti- 
 nacy was that he was kept three whole days upon bread 
 and cheese, and that cheese was not broccio* However, 
 he would not cry; he was dull, but not sulky. 
 
 At length on the fourth day of his punishment, a little 
 friend of Marianne Bonaparte returned from the country, 
 and on hearing of Napoleon's disgrace she confessed that 
 she and Marianne had eaten the fruit. It was now 
 Marianne's turn to be punished. When Napoleon was 
 asked why he had not accused his sister, he replied that 
 though he suspected that she was guilty, yet out of con- 
 sideration to her little friend, who had no share in the 
 falsehood, he had said nothing. He was then only seven 
 years of age. 
 
 This fact, which would have been nothing extraordinary 
 in any other child, appeared to me worthy of a place 
 among recollections which are connected with the whole 
 life of Napoleon. It is somewhat characteristic of the 
 man. I ought to add that the affair was never forgotten 
 by Napoleon. Of this I observed a proof in 1801, at a 
 fite given by Madame Bacciochi (formerly Marianne 
 Bonaparte) at Neuilly, where she resided with Lucien. 
 
 The nurse Saveria told me that Napoleon was never a 
 pretty boy, as Joseph had been ; his head always appeared 
 too large for his body, a defect common to the Bonaparte 
 family. When Napoleon grew up, the peculiar charm of 
 his countenance lay in his eyes, especially in the mild ex- 
 pression they assumed in his moments of kindness. His 
 anger, to be sure, was frightful, and though I am no 
 coward, I never could look at him in his fits of rage 
 without shuddering. Though his smile was captivating, 
 yet the expression of his mouth when disdainful or angry 
 could scarcely be seen without terror. 
 
 But of that forehead which seemed formed to bear the 
 crowns of a whole world ; those hands, of which the most 
 coquettish women might have been vain, and whose white 
 skin covered muscles of iron; in short, of all that personal 
 beauty which distinguished Napoleon as a young man, no 
 traces were discernible in the boy. Saveria spoke truly 
 when she said that of all the children of Signora Laetitia, 
 the Emperor was the one from whom future greatness 
 was least to be prognosticated. 
 
 * A favorite kind of cheese in Corsica.
 
 i 4 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 During her residence at Ajaccio my mother renewed 
 her intimacy with her friend Laetitia and her children. 
 Napoleon was then in France. On her return thither 
 my mother promised her good offices in favor of the 
 young Corsican if he should be in want of friends at 
 such a distance from his family. A coldness subsisted 
 between M. Charles Bonaparte and my mother's family, 
 from what cause I know not: however, that is a matter 
 of very little importance. 
 
 At the close of the American war my father returned 
 to his country, where he purchased the situation of re- 
 ceiver-general of departmental taxes. The duties of this 
 situation caused him to fix his abode temporarily at 
 Montpellier, and an event which had well-nigh been at- 
 tended with fatal consequences detained him there far 
 beyond the period he had fixed upon. My mother was 
 at that time pregnant with me. She was in perfect 
 health, and there was every reason to believe that her 
 delivery would be attended with a favorable result. On 
 the 6th of November, after having supped with Madame 
 de Moncan, the wife of the second commandant .of the 
 province, she returned home quite well and in excellent 
 spirits. At one o'clock she retired to bed, and at two 
 she was delivered of a daughter. Next morning it was 
 discovered that her right side and part of her left were 
 struck with paralysis. 
 
 The physicians of Montpellier, a town then celebrated 
 for medical science, prescribed for her in vain. They 
 could neither relieve her disease nor discover its cause. 
 My poor mother spent three months in agony: she was 
 scarcely able to articulate. At length she was cured, 
 and her cure was no less extraordinary than her illness. 
 
 A countryman who brought fruit and vegetables for 
 sale to the house one day saw the female servants weep- 
 ing in great distress. He inquired the cause, and was 
 informed of the situation of my mother. He requested 
 to be conducted to my father. <( I ask for no reward, B 
 said he, M but from what I have heard from your serv- 
 ants I think I know the nature of your lady's illness, 
 and if you will permit me I will cure her in a \veek. w 
 
 My father was at that moment plunged in the deepest 
 despair' for he had that very morning heard from the 
 physicians that my mother was in great danger, and
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 15 
 
 they afforded him no hope of her recovery. In that hour 
 of anguish he very naturally seized at anything which 
 could afford the slightest chance. 
 
 "What effect does your remedy produce? w said he to 
 the countryman. The man replied that it was topical, 
 and, therefore, unattended by any danger to the organs 
 of life; but he admitted that its application would be at- 
 tended with the most excruciating pain. My father sum- 
 moned the doctors who were in attendance on my mother. 
 All were men of acknowledged talent. (< Nature is un- 
 bounded in her benefits, n said M. Barthes; <( how do we 
 know what she may have in reserve through the hands 
 of this man? Let him try his remedy. w My mother was 
 asked whether she felt sufficient strength to undergo an 
 increase of pain. She declared she would submit to any- 
 thing. She had already relinquished all hope of life. 
 
 The countryman asked permission to return home. 
 His village was not far off, and he promised to return 
 next morning. My father was alarmed when he heard 
 that the man came from Saint Gilles ;* but the man ap- 
 peared perfectly sane. His preparations were rather 
 methodical. He made five little round loaves or rolls: 
 the dough was compounded by himself. The efficient 
 ingredients were of herbs which he gathered, and in 
 which consisted his secret. He boiled these herbs, and 
 with their juice added to a little strong beer, and mixed 
 with maize flour, he made a dough, which he baked into 
 loaves. While they were hot from the oven he cut them 
 into halves, and applied them to the part affected. 
 
 I have often heard my mother say that no words could 
 convey an idea of the painful sensation she experienced, 
 and I have seen her turn pale at the recollection of it. 
 This torture was repeated every day for the space of a 
 week. At the expiration of that time the pain ceased 
 and she was able to move her limbs. A month after- 
 ward my mother was up and in her balcony. 
 
 It is an extraordinary fact that during her illness she 
 had lost all recollection of her pregnancy and delivery. 
 My father at first supposed that the agonizing pain my 
 mother had suffered had alienated her affection from the 
 
 * A village near Montpellier, remarkable for the prevalence of in- 
 sanity among its inhabitants. There is scarcely a house in the place 
 which does not contain a padded room.
 
 16 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 infant to whom she had given birth. As soon as he 
 observed my mother's indifference toward me he ordered 
 the nurse to keep me in a distant part of the house. 
 His affection both for his wife and child dictated this 
 order, for my mother was yet in too weak a state to 
 bear any agitation of mind. In the month of March, 
 about four months after her recovery, my mother was 
 seated in her balcony inhaling the balmy freshness of a 
 spring day. My father was with her, and they were 
 arranging a plan for spending a summer which should 
 compensate for all her recent sufferings. They pro- 
 posed going to Bagneres. In the midst of their conver- 
 sation she suddenly shrieked, and with one hand seizing 
 my father's arm, she pointed with the other to a child 
 which a nurse was carrying in the street. She did not 
 know that it was her own, but she exclaimed, w Charles, 
 I have an infant ! Where is it ? Is not that my child ? * 
 My brother, who was seventeen years of age, has 
 often told me that nothing could convey an idea of my 
 mother's joy when her child was placed in her arms. 
 She was to me the fondest of mothers. She insisted on 
 having my cradle placed beside her bed, and the nurse 
 slept in an adjoining chamber. Every morning when I 
 awoke she pressed me to her bosom, and said, (< Oh, my 
 dear child! how dearly must I love you to make amends 
 for five months' banishment from your mother's heart ! • 
 My beloved parent faithfully kept her word. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 My Mother's Drawing-room — The Comtesse de Perigord — The 
 Duchesse de Mailly and the Prince de Chalais — Louis XV. and 
 the Comtesse de Perigord — The Duchesse de Mailly and the 
 Princesse de Lamballe — Bonaparte's First Arrival in Paris — His 
 Intention of Presenting a Memorial to the Minister of War — His 
 Character when a Young Man. 
 
 IN 1 785 we arrived in Paris. My mother could not 
 reconcile herself to a country life were it ever so 
 agreeable, and my father was equally desirous of re- 
 turning to town. He had long wished to purchase the office
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES i 7 
 
 of one of the farmers of public revenue, and at this 
 very juncture M. Rougeau was disposed to sell his situ- 
 ation. Negotiations were immediately opened by the 
 friends of both parties. My father resolved to manage 
 this business personally, and that circumstance deter- 
 mined our hasty journey. My father wished to see a 
 great deal of company, and, after the fashion of the 
 time, set a day of the week apart for giving dinner 
 parties. 
 
 My mother possessed the qualifications of an agreeable 
 hostess. Her good temper and frankness of manner made 
 her a favorite with everybody: she united to beauty of 
 person, grace, tact, and, above all, a natural intelligence. 
 She was, however, exceedingly deficient in education. 
 She used to say she had never read but one book («Te- 
 lemachus » ) ; but, in spite of that, those who had once 
 enjoyed her conversation never could quit her society 
 without reluctance and regret. How many poets and dis- 
 tinguished literary characters have I seen spellbound by 
 the charm, not of her person, but of her manners! 
 
 No one could tell a story with more piquant originality. 
 Often have my brother and myself sat up until three 
 o'clock in the morning listening to her. But what par- 
 ticularly marked her character was her perfection in that 
 most difficult art of presiding in her drawing-room, or, 
 as the Emperor used to style it, Part de tenir son 
 salon. 
 
 Of the friends whom my mother had made at Mont- 
 pellier she rejoined one at Paris with great satisfaction. 
 This was the Comte de Perigord, the uncle of M. de 
 Talleyrand, and the brother of the Archbishop of Rheims. 
 He was Governor of the States of Languedoc, wore the 
 cordon bleu, and, though as great a dignitary as one could 
 wish to see, was still the most amiable and worthy of 
 men. My parents knew him during his presidency, and 
 the friendship they contracted lasted during their lives. 
 His children, the Duchesse de Mailly and the Prince de 
 Chalais, inherited their father's excellent disposition, and 
 after his death they gave my mother proofs of their 
 friendship and esteem. 
 
 Of the Comte de Perigord I retain the most perfect 
 recollection. He was very kind to me, and children are 
 ever grateful for attentions bestowed on them. I remem-
 
 18 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUXOT 
 
 ber he used often to give me very expensive things ; but 
 had I known their value, which I did not, the presents 
 he made me would not have inspired my regard for him 
 more than for any other of our visitors, all of whom 
 were in the habit of making me presents. It was the 
 notice he took of me, his readiness to praise any just 
 or smart remark I made, and his constant desire to save 
 me from reproof: this it was that made me love him. I 
 can see him even now entering the spacious drawing- 
 room of the hotel we occupied on the Quai Conti, tread- 
 ing cautiously w T ith his clubfoot, leading me by the hand, 
 for no sooner was his name announced than I was at his 
 side. He, on his part, was never weary of my company; 
 on the contrary, he always encouraged my prattle. I 
 loved him, and regretted his loss. 
 
 It was the fate of his w T ife, the Comtesse de Perigord, 
 to attract the notice of Louis XV. This degrading dis- 
 tinction could not but be repugnant to the feelings of a 
 virtuous woman, and the Comtesse de Perigord saw in it 
 nothing but an insult. She silently withdrew herself 
 from Court before the King offered to name her his 
 favorite. On her return the King's attentions were fixed 
 on a new object, and the virtue of Madame de Perigord 
 was all that dwelt upon the memory of the monarch. 
 
 The Comtesse 's daughter, the Duchesse de Mailly, the 
 lady in waiting and cherished friend of Marie Antoinette, 
 died young. The Queen was strongly attached to her. 
 She used to call her ma grandc* However, notwith- 
 standing this attachment, Madame de Mailly's feelings 
 received a wound sufficiently severe. This was about the 
 period of the rise of the Princesse de Lamballe, and 
 many circumstances combined to mortify Madame de 
 Mailly. She was, moreover, in a bad state of health, 
 and gave in her resignation. 
 
 Her brother, the Prince de Chalais, was a nobleman in 
 the literal signification of the term. He was a man of 
 the most scrupulous honor, and a most rigid observer of 
 all the forms which belonged to his rank. When a mere 
 youth he was remarked at the Court of Louis XVI. as 
 one who was likely to distinguish himself in after years. 
 On his return from emigration, when I saw him at my 
 
 * The Duchesse de Mailly was very tall. She measured five feet 
 four inches (French measure) without her high-heeled shoes.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 19 
 
 mother's I could easily discern that all I had heard of 
 his excellent character was correct. 
 
 The Comte de Perigord foresaw early the misfortunes 
 which befell the King, and consequently France. He 
 was an enemy to emigration, and used to say that the 
 proper place for men of his order was always near the 
 throne: in peace to adorn it, and in times of trouble to 
 defend it. The refugees at Worms and Coblentz could 
 not seduce him from the path which he considered it his 
 duty to pursue. The unfortunate gentleman nearly be- 
 came the victim of his resolution. 
 
 One of my mother's first cares on arriving in Paris was 
 to inquire after Napoleon Bonaparte. He was at that 
 time in the Military School of Paris, having quitted 
 Brienne in the September of the preceding year. My 
 uncle Demetrius had met him just after he alighted from 
 the coach which brought him to town; (< And truly, B said 
 my uncle, (< he had the appearance of a fresh importa- 
 tion. I met him in the Palais Royal, where he was gap- 
 ing and staring with wonder at everything he saw. He 
 would have been an excellent subject for sharpers, if, 
 indeed, he had had anything worth taking! B 
 
 My uncle invited him to dine at his house ; for though 
 he was a bachelor, he did not choose to dine at a coffee- 
 house. He told my mother that Napoleon was very 
 morose. (< I fear, " added he, (( that that young man has 
 more self-conceit than is suitable to his condition. When 
 he dined with me he began to declaim violently against 
 the luxury of the young men of the Military School. 
 After a little he turned the conversation upon Manea, and 
 the present education of the young Maniotes, drawing a 
 comparison between it and the ancient Spartan system 
 of education. His observations on this head he told me 
 he intended to embody in a memorial to be presented to 
 the Minister of War. All this, depend upon it, will 
 bring him under the displeasure of his comrades, and it 
 will be lucky if he escape being run through. w 
 
 A few days afterward my mother saw Napoleon, and 
 then his irritability was at its height. He would scarcely 
 bear any observations, even if made in his favor, and I 
 am convinced that it is to this uncontrollable irritability 
 that he owed the reputation of having been ill-tempered 
 in his boyhood and splenetic in his youth.
 
 20 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 My father, who was acquainted with almost all the 
 heads of the Military School, obtained leave for him 
 sometimes to come out for recreation. On account of an 
 accident (a sprain, if I recollect right), Napoleon once 
 spent a whole week at our house. To this day, whenever 
 I pass the Quai Conti, I cannot help looking up at a 
 garret window at the left angle of the house on the third 
 floor. That was Napoleon's chamber when he paid us a 
 visit, and a neat little room it was. My brother used to 
 occupy the one next to it. The two young men were 
 nearly of the same age; my brother, perhaps, had the 
 advantage of a year or fifteen months. My mother had 
 recommended him to cultivate the friendship of young 
 Bonaparte, but my brother complained how unpleasant 
 it was to find only cold politeness where he expected 
 affection. 
 
 This repulsiveness on the part of Napoleon was almost 
 offensive, and must have been sensibly felt by my brother, 
 who was not only remarkable for the mildness of his 
 temper and the amenity and grace of his manner, but 
 whose society was courted in the most distinguished cir- 
 cles of Paris on account of his talents. He perceived in 
 Bonaparte a kind of acerbity and bitter irony, of which 
 he long endeavored to discover the cause. 
 
 <( I believe," said Albert one day to my mother, <( that 
 the poor young man feels keenly his dependent situa- 
 tion. D (< But, w exclaimed my mother, <( his situation is 
 not dependent; and I trust you have not made him feel 
 that he is not quite at home while he stays here." 
 
 (< Albert is not wrong in this matter, " said my father, 
 who happened to be present. <( Napoleon suffers on ac- 
 count of his pride, but it is pride not to be censured. 
 He knows you; he knows, too, that your family and his 
 are in Corsica equal with regard to fortune. He is the 
 son of Laetitia Bonaparte, and Albert is yours. I be- 
 lieve that you are even related; now he cannot easily 
 reconcile all this with the difference in the education he 
 receives gratis in the Military School, separated from his 
 family, and deprived of those attentions which he sees 
 here lavishly bestowed upon our children." 
 
 "But you are describing envy, not pride," replied my 
 mother. 
 
 " No, there is a great difference between envy and the
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 21 
 
 feelings by which this young man is disturbed; and I 
 fancy I know the human heart well enough to under- 
 stand the workings of his. He suffers, and perhaps more 
 keenly in our house than elsewhere. You are warm- 
 hearted, but you cannot comprehend how misplaced kind- 
 ness may sometimes fail to effect a cure. When you 
 wished to make use of the credit of M. de Falgueyreytes to 
 obtain leave of absence for Napoleon for more than a day 
 or two, I told you you were doing wrong. You would 
 not listen to me. The warmth of your friendship for 
 the mother has caused you to place the son in a con- 
 tinually painful situation; for painful it must be, since 
 the reflection will recur to him: Why is not my family 
 situated like this? w 
 
 <( Absurd ! * cried my mother ; a to reason thus would 
 be both foolish and wicked in him." 
 
 (( He would be neither more foolish nor more wicked 
 than the rest of the world. It is but feeling like a man. 
 What is the reason he has been in a constant state of 
 ill humor since his arrival here ? Why does he so loudly 
 declaim against the indecent luxury (to use his own 
 words ) of all his comrades ? Why ? because he is every 
 moment making a comparison between their situation 
 and his own! He thinks it ridiculous that these young 
 men should keep servants when he has none. He finds 
 fault with two courses at dinner, because, when they 
 have their picnics, he is unable to contribute his share. 
 The other day I was told by Dumarsay, the father of 
 one of his comrades, that it was in contemplation to 
 give one of the masters a dtfjeuner, and that each scholar 
 would be expected to contribute a sum certainly too 
 large for such boys. Napoleon's censure is so far just. 
 Well ! I saw him this morning, and found him more than 
 usually gloomy. I guessed the reason, and broke the ice 
 at once by offering him the small sum he wanted for 
 the occasion. He colored deeply, but presently his 
 countenance resumed its usual pale yellow hue. He 
 refused my offer. w 
 
 <( That was because you did not make it with sufficient 
 delicacy, w cried my mother. <( You men are always such 
 bunglers ! }> 
 
 "When I saw the young man so unhappy, M continued 
 my father, without being disconcerted by my mother's
 
 22 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUXOT 
 
 warmth of manner, to which he was accustomed, * I in- 
 vented an untruth, which heaven will doubtless pardon. 
 I told him that, before his father expired in our arms 
 at Montpellier, he gave me a small sum to be applied to 
 the wants of his son in cases of emergency. Napoleon 
 looked at me steadfastly, with so scrutinizing a gaze that 
 he almost intimidated me. * Since this money comes from 
 my father, sir,* said he, 'I accept it; but had it been a 
 loan I could not have received it. My mother has al- 
 ready too many burdens, and I must not increase them 
 bv expenses beyond my means, particularly when they 
 are imposed upon me by the stupid folly of my com- 
 rades. } You see then, ■ continued my father, " if his 
 pride is so easily wounded at the school by strangers, 
 what must he not suffer here, whatever tenderness we 
 may show him ? Albert must not be less kind and at- 
 tentive to him; although I very much doubt whether it 
 will lead to any mutual friendship." 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Death of Bonaparte's Father in My Mother's House — Joseph Bona- 
 parte and M. Fesch — Removal of My Family to Paris — M. de 
 Saint Priest, M. Seguier, and M. Duvidal de Montferrier — Madame 
 de Lamarliere — A Wedding Feast at Robespierre's — The Queen at 
 the Conciergerie and Madame Richard — MM. d'Aigrefeuille and 
 Cambaceres. 
 
 I must now recur to some events previous to those de- 
 tailed in my last chapter; for this little disarrange- 
 ment of dates I trust the reader will pardon me. 
 While we were residing at Montpellier, my father, on 
 returning home one day, told my mother a curious piece 
 of news. He said he had just heard that three Corsicans 
 had arrived at a miserable inn in the town, and that one 
 of them was very ill. 
 
 "Is it possible? * exclaimed my mother with her usua4 
 animation of manner. "Go and inquire, I beg of you! 
 How can you come and tell me that one of my country- 
 men is ill at an inn in Montpellier? Charles, this is un- 
 kind in you." With these words my mother almost
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 23 
 
 forced my father out of the house. On his return she 
 learned with mingled feelings of grief and joy that her 
 sick countryman, for whom she had felt interested while 
 he was unknown to her, was no other than the husband 
 of Laetitia Ramolini. 
 
 (< He is very ill," said my father, " and I think he 
 cannot be well attended where he is. We must get him 
 removed to a private house." 
 
 (< My dear," observed my mother, <( recollect how much 
 you suffered when you fell ill at Philadelphia, with no 
 one to attend you but servants and a boy of nine years 
 old. It is our duty to save our friends from such mis- 
 ery." My father did not like the Corsicans. He was 
 willing to show M. Bonaparte all the attention which his 
 situation demanded, but it required all the influence of 
 my mother to induce him to receive the invalids into 
 his house. 
 
 Some of the numerous friends we had at Montpellier, 
 many of whom are still living, have often described to 
 me the praiseworthy conduct of my mother on that 
 occasion. She was young, beautiful, and rich, and sur- 
 rounded by a circle of admiring friends and yet she was 
 seldom from the bedside of the sick stranger. All that 
 fortune could procure to alleviate the sufferings of a 
 protracted illness was furnished by my parents with a 
 delicacy which concealed from the invalid and his rela- 
 tions the difficulty which was frequently experienced in 
 gratifying the capricious wishes of a dying man. 
 
 I say nothing of pecuniary sacrifices; but kindness of 
 heart certainly deserves gratitude. My mother was at 
 M. Bonaparte's bedside when he breathed his last, like 
 an angel sent from heaven to soothe his dying moments. 
 He strongly recommended to her his young son Napo- 
 leon, who had just left Brienne and entered the Military 
 School at Paris.* 
 
 My mother did not confine herself to her pious atten- 
 tion to the husband of her friend. Joseph Bonaparte 
 and his uncle Fesch received from her and my father 
 all the consolation which friendship can offer to an af- 
 flicted heart; and when they departed for Corsica, every- 
 thing that could contribute to the comfort of their journey 
 was provided by m) r father. I have seen Joseph Bona- 
 
 * Napoleon left Brienne on the 14th of October, 1784.
 
 24 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUXOT 
 
 parte often since that time, and he constantly alluded to 
 the infinite obligations he lay under to my family. 
 
 Excellent man! For King Joseph I always entertained 
 a high respect. The world has been unjust to him as 
 well as to other members of his family, because he had 
 been guilty of some venial faults which would have been 
 passed over in the chivalrous reign of Louis XIV.. ap- 
 plauded in the profligate reign of Louis XV., and toler- 
 ated in the degenerate reign of Louis XVI. But he 
 laid his conduct open to censure. And in what place ? 
 In Spain. And why ? Because, perhaps, the mistress of 
 the Grand Inquisitor became his favorite. Joseph Bona- 
 parte left Montpellier with his uncle, who was about his 
 own age, if, indeed, he was not something younger. 
 
 My parents removed from Languedoc to Paris. They 
 left Montpellier with regret, for they left behind them 
 many beloved friends. Death, however, deprived them 
 of several in one year. One of these was M. de Saint 
 Priest, Intendant of Languedoc, a man universally be- 
 loved and esteemed. Another loss no less profoundly 
 felt by my father was that of M. Seguier, of Xismes. 
 
 In one of those daily excursions which he made either 
 to Xarbonne or to the environs of Montpellier, my father 
 met M. de Seguier while he was botanizing near the 
 ruins of the temple of Diana. My father had a great 
 taste for botany, and they soon became friends. He used 
 to speak to him of the mountains of Corsica, where he 
 had often lost himself while searching for plants, and of 
 the botanical curiosities which those regions contain. M. 
 de Seguier wished to make a journey thither; but my 
 father wrote to one of his cousins, who, like himself, was 
 a botanist, and the plants were transmitted to France in 
 all their pristine freshness. My father used often to go 
 from Montpellier to Xismes, where he invariably found 
 M. de Siguier either engaged in his favorite science or 
 in antiquarian researches. He died of apoplexy at an 
 advanced age on the ist of September, 1784. 
 
 In the following year the province of Languedoc had 
 
 t the death of its Syndic General, the Marquis 
 
 1 Tontfcrrier, a distinguished friend of art and science, 
 
 to whom the province of Languedoc is indebted for many 
 
 is noblest monuments, particularly the construction of 
 
 the new Pont du Garde.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 25 
 
 These three men were the particular friends of my 
 father or mother, and, being my countrymen, they have 
 a right to this feeble tribute of my respect in a work in 
 which my recollections are the only annals I consult. I 
 have now to notice another friend of my family, whom 
 I cannot pass by without a brief description. 
 
 At Saint Roch, near the third pillar of the Chapel of 
 the Virgin, on the left as you enter by the grand portal, 
 a lady may be seen dressed in black, or in silk of a 
 dark color. On her head she always wears a very large 
 bonnet of black gros-dc-naples, over which is a green 
 veil. The children call her " the lady with the green 
 veil," and the poor give her the name of "the good 
 lady. " When she enters the chapel it is easy to perceive 
 that she is familiar with the house of God. The beadle, 
 the assistant, and the sacristan respectfully make their 
 obeisance to her. 
 
 Formerly she used to bring several prayer books with 
 her, but now she prays without a book, for she cannot 
 see; but she does not pray with the less fervor. Some- 
 times she joins in the sacred choir, and then those who 
 are placed near her hear the clear and silvery voice of 
 a young girl singing to the glory of heaven. The pro- 
 jecting brim of her bonnet conceals the face, but two 
 small white hands counting the beads of a rosary reveal 
 to the curious observer that she who prays so devoutly 
 must be of the higher class. 
 
 <( Who is she ? ° inquire the surrounding observers. 
 (< Is she young ? 8 At length she rises to depart. Her 
 head, which has hitherto been inclined downward, once 
 more salutes the tabernacle. Then, beneath her large 
 bonnet, is perceived a countenance which must once 
 have been beautiful, and which even retains beauty at 
 the age of seventy-four and after a life of suffering. 
 She looks calm and resigned, and it is evident that her 
 hope is not in this world. I called her "Mamma," for 
 she was present at my birth. She loved me tenderly, 
 and I cherished for her the affection of a daughter. 
 
 The Comtesse de Lamarliere (for that is her real name) 
 was the companion and friend of Madame de Provence, 
 as well as of the Comtesse d'Artois. She therefore had 
 the opportunity of seeing and hearing a great deal that 
 was interesting and extraordinary; and she related a
 
 26 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 multitude of anecdotes with a grace and animation 
 scarcely to be expected in one of her advanced age. 
 
 When Madame quitted "France, the Comtesse de Lamar- 
 liere could not accompany her, much as she wished to do 
 so. But she was a wife and a mother, and to those ties 
 she was obliged to sacrifice the sentiments of gratitude 
 which animated her heart. She remained in France to 
 suffer persecution and misery. She saw her husband 
 arrested at the head of the troops he commanded, cast 
 into a dungeon, condemned to death, and conducted to 
 the scaffold. She had the courage to implore the mercy 
 of him who never knew mercy: she threw herself even 
 at the feet of Robespierre. 
 
 Madame de Lamarliere had then the look of a young 
 woman, a complexion of dazzling brilliancy, a profusion 
 of fair hair, fine eyes and teeth, could not fail to render 
 her exceedingly attractive. Her beauty was perhaps 
 rather heightened than diminished by her despair when 
 she threw herself at the feet of the Dictator, and with a 
 faltering voice implored the pardon of the father of her 
 child. But the axe was in the hand of the executioner, 
 and amidst a nuptial festival* Robespierre pronounced 
 the sentence which made her a widow and her child an 
 orphan. 
 
 During the examinations preparatory to his trial, M. 
 de Lamarliere was confined in the Conciergerie. The 
 Queen was there before him. Madame de Lamarliere 
 had permission to go to the prison to visit her husband, 
 and to take him anything which might comfort him 
 in his captivity. She took the opportunity of conveying 
 to the Queen such things as she thought would be 
 agreeable to her. 
 
 Madame Richard, the wife of the head concierge, see- 
 ing that the presents thus sent were articles to which 
 
 * Robespierre that clay gave away in marriage the daughter or sister 
 of a carpenter, named Duplay, in whose house he lodged in the Rue 
 Saint Honore. This Duplay was the president of the jury on the Queen's 
 trial. The Comtesse de Lamarliere arrived before the hour fixed for 
 the marriage ceremony, and she was obliged to wait in the dining 
 room, where the table was laid for the nuptial feast. Her feelings may 
 easily be imagined ! However, there she waited, and was introduced to 
 the carpenter's wife, and I believe to Barrere. After she was gone 
 '-•spierre said: <( That woman is very pretty — very pretty indeed ! w 
 rr.panying the observation by some odious remarks.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 27 
 
 there could be no reasonable objection, humanely lent 
 herself to the innocent deception.* 
 
 (< Did you tell the Queen who sent the presents ? * said 
 I one day to Madame de Lamarliere. 
 
 tt No, w replied she; "why should I have informed her ? w 
 
 w To receive the reward of your generosity by a grate- 
 ful word from the unfortunate Princess. w 
 
 <( Certainly that would have been gratifying to me. 
 But I was then unfortunate myself, and I was actuated 
 by no other motive than that of alleviating the misery 
 of another. However, • she added, with a deep sigh, 
 <( the Queen did know it, and she addressed to me a few 
 words of kind remembrance. w I often broached the 
 subject, but I never could get further than this. My 
 poor friend was like a person grievously wounded, whom 
 one fears to touch, even to dress the wound. 
 
 Among the individuals whom my parents left with 
 regret at Montpellier was M. d'Aigrefeuille, President of 
 the Cour des Comptes of that town. He was an excellent 
 man, and those who saw him merely in the office of 
 Archchancellor could know little either of his talents or 
 his worth. It happened that he supped with my mother 
 at Madame de Moncan's on the evening before I was 
 brought into the world; consequently he knew precisely 
 the date of my birth, and he made no secret of this 
 fact. Whenever I dined at his own house, or met him 
 in company, he used constantly to repeat : (< On the 6th 
 of November, 1784. Come, come, you cannot conceal 
 your age from me. B As I was at that time a very young 
 woman, I was not much annoyed at this reminder. 
 
 I will conclude this chapter with a few words relative 
 to an individual who has played a conspicuous part on 
 the scene of life. I allude to Cambaceres. He was 
 Counselor of the Cour des Aides at Montpellier. At 
 that time he was a mere acquaintance of my parents, 
 and he subsequently became the friend of Junot and my- 
 self: whenever I solicited his assistance upon any occa- 
 sion I always found him ready to serve me. If the 
 thing were impossible, he told me so candidly, for he 
 
 * Madame Richard was very attentive to the Queen. When the 
 Marquis de Rougeville dropped a carnation, in which a note was con- 
 cealed, at the feet of the Queen, he and all Richard's family were 
 thrown into the dungeons of La Force.
 
 28 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 never made deceitful promises. Indeed, Cambaceres was 
 an honest man in every sense of the word, and party 
 spirit has vainly endeavored to assail him. His honor, 
 integritv, and the amiability of his manners, made him 
 generally beloved. Cambaceres was in easy circum- 
 stances, though not rich, when he was at Montpellier. 
 He was a relative of the Marquis de Montferrier, whom, 
 as well as D'Aigrefeuille, he remembered when he rose 
 to greatness and power. I shall have occasion to speak 
 of his political life in another place. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Marianne Bonaparte at Saint Cyr — Humbled Pride — Bonaparte Made 
 Sub-Lieutenant — His First Appearance in Uniform — His Singular 
 Present to My Sister — Scene at Malmaison — The Comtesse d'Escar- 
 bagnas and the Marquis de Carabas. 
 
 Joseph Bonaparte had addressed a letter to my uncle 
 Demetrius, thanking him for his kind attention to 
 Marianne Bonaparte, who had been placed at the 
 establishment of Saint Cyr. My mother undertook the 
 task of visiting her occasionally, and during the long 
 time which Marianne passed at Saint Cyr, my mother 
 was a kind and affectionate friend to her. 
 
 One day my mother and some other members of my 
 family went on a visit to Saint Cyr, and Bonaparte ac- 
 companied them. When Marianne came into the par- 
 lor she appeared very melancholy, and at the first word 
 that was addressed to her she burst into tears. My 
 mother embraced her, and endeavored to console her. 
 It was some time before Marianne would tell the cause 
 of her distress. 
 
 At iength my mother learned that one of the young 
 ladies (Mademoiselle de Montluc) was to leave the school 
 in a week, and that the pupils of her class intended giv- 
 ing her a little entertainment on her departure. Every- 
 one had contributed, but Marianne could not give 
 anything, because her allowance of money was nearly 
 exhausted: she had only six francs remaining.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 29 
 
 <; If I give the six francs, B said she, <( I shall have 
 nothing- left, and I shall not receive my allowance for 
 six weeks to come; besides, six francs are not enough. w 
 Napoleon's first movement, as my mother told me when 
 she related this anecdote, was to put his hand into his 
 pocket. However, a moment's reflection assured him that 
 he should find nothing there; he checked himself, col- 
 ored slightly, and stamped his foot. 
 
 My mother could not refrain from laughing when she 
 thought of the singular resemblance between the lunch- 
 eon of Saint Cyr and the breakfast at the Military School 
 of Paris, and she mentioned this in Greek to my uncle. 
 The coincidence was easily explained; both the brother 
 and sister were bonrsiers (free pupils) in the schools, at 
 which there were at the same time the children of many 
 noble and wealthy families. 
 
 Now, the Bonaparte family were poor: this fact was 
 openly acknowledged by M. Bonaparte, the father, when 
 he wrote to the Minister of War for the purpose of get- 
 ting Lucien placed at Brienne. A great deal of discus- 
 sion has been started on the question of the wealth or 
 poverty of the Bonaparte family. The reproaches which 
 have been founded on their supposed poverty are too 
 contemptible for notice; and in my opinion it matters 
 little what we::e the pecuniary circumstances of the family 
 before they entered upon that career of greatness which 
 the genius and fortune of Napoleon opened to them. 
 
 To return to Marianne. My mother asked her what 
 money she wanted. The sum was small: ten or twelve 
 francs. My mother gave her the money, and her distress 
 was ended. When they got into the carriage, Napoleon, 
 who had restrained his feelings in the presence of his 
 sister, vented violent invective against the detestable 
 system of such establishments as Saint Cyr and the Mil- 
 itary Schools. It was evident that he deeply felt the 
 humiliation of his sister. My uncle, who was of a hasty 
 temper, soon got out of patience at the bitterness with 
 which he expressed himself, and made some observations 
 which were not very agreeable to him. 
 
 Napoleon was silent immediately, for at that time 
 young people were educated in the observance of great 
 respect to those who were older than themselves; but 
 his heart was full. He soon brought back the conversa-
 
 3o MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUXOT 
 
 tion to the same subject, and at length his language 
 became so violent that my uncle exclaimed: 
 
 w Silence ! it ill becomes you who are educated by the 
 King's bounty to speak as you do. * I have often heard 
 my mother say that she thought Napoleon would have 
 been stifled with rage. He was pale and red in the 
 space of a moment. 
 
 (< I am not educated at the King's expense, w said he, 
 "but at the expense of the State. w 
 
 <( A fine distinction, truly ! • returned my uncle. « Is 
 not the King the State ? I will not suffer you to speak 
 thus disrespectfully of your benefactor in my presence. w 
 
 <( I will say nothing that may be displeasing to you, 
 sir, » replied the young man ; « only give me leave to add 
 that, if I were the Sovereign, and had power to alter 
 these regulations, I would change them so that they 
 should be for the advantage of all. 8 
 
 I need not point the reader's attention to the remark- 
 able words if I were the Sovereign. When he really 
 did become- a sovereign it is well known on what an ad- 
 mirable footing he established his military schools. I am 
 convinced that he long retained the recollection of the 
 painful humiliations he had suffered at the Military School 
 of Paris. He certainly was no favorite there. 
 
 Several of the heads of the establishment, who were 
 acquainted with my father, assured him that young Na- 
 poleon Bonaparte possessed a temper which there was no 
 possibility of rendering even sociable. He was dissatis- 
 fied with everything, and expressed his dissatisfaction 
 in a way which could not but be disagreeable to his elders, 
 who regarded him as an ill-tempered, wrong-headed 
 youth. His conduct accelerated his departure from the 
 college: his removal was unanimously urged.* He ob- 
 tained a sub-lieutenancy in a regiment of artillery, and 
 he went to Grenoble, Valence, Auxonne, etc., before he 
 returned to Paris. 
 
 Previously to his departure he came to pass some time 
 at our house. My sister was then at her convent, but she 
 frequently came home while Napoleon was with us. I 
 well recollect that, on the day when he first put on his 
 uniform, he was as vain as young men usually are on 
 
 * That is, by getting him posted to a regiment. There was no idea 
 of removal in any other way.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 31 
 
 such an occasion. There was one part of his dress which 
 had a very droll appearance — that was his boots. They 
 were so high and wide that his little thin legs seemed 
 buried in their amplitude. 
 
 Young people are always quick to perceive anything ri- 
 diculous; and as soon as my sister and I saw Napoleon 
 enter the drawing-room we burst into a loud fit of laugh- 
 ter. At that early age, as well as in after life, Bona- 
 parte could not relish a joke ; and when he found himself 
 the object of merriment he grew angry. My sister, 
 who was some years older than I, told him that since he 
 wore a sword he ought to be gallant to ladies, and, in- 
 stead of being angry, should be happy that they joked 
 with him. 
 
 (< You are nothing but a child — a little pensionnaire* 
 said Napoleon, in a tone of contempt. Cecile, who was 
 twelve or thirteen years of age, was highly indignant at 
 being called a child, and she hastily resented the affront 
 by replying to Bonaparte: 
 
 <( And you are nothing but a Puss in Boots." 
 
 This excited a general laugh among all present, except 
 Napoleon, whose rage I will not attempt to describe. 
 Though not much accustomed to society, he had too 
 much tact not to perceive that he ought to be silent 
 when personalities were introduced and his adversary 
 was a woman. 
 
 Though deeply mortified at the unfortunate nickname 
 which my sister had given him, yet he affected to forget 
 it; and to prove that he cherished no malice on the sub- 
 ject, he got a little toy made and gave it as a present 
 to me. This toy consisted of a cat in boots, in the char- 
 acter of a footman running before the carriage of the 
 Marquis de Carabas. It was very well made, and must 
 have been rather expensive to him, considering his 
 straitened finances. He brought along with it a pretty 
 little edition of the popular tale of <( Puss in Boots, M which 
 he presented to my sister, begging her to keep it as a 
 
 TOKEN OF HIS REMEMBRANCE. 
 
 <( Oh, Napoleon, w said my mother, (< if you had merely 
 given the toy to Loulou it would have been all very 
 well; but the tale for Cecile shows that you are still 
 offended with her. ® 
 
 He gave his word to the contrary; but I think with
 
 52 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 ray mother that some little feeling of resentment was 
 still rankling in his mind. This story would probably 
 have vanished from my recollection had I not heard it 
 often told by my mother and brother. My recollection 
 of it was afterward useful to me in a curious way. 
 
 "When Bonaparte indulged in raillery he did not use 
 the weapon with a very light hand; and those he loved 
 best often smarted under the blow. Though Junot was 
 a particular favorite of his during the Consulate and the 
 first years of the Empire, yet he frequently selected him 
 as the object of some rough joke ; and if accompanied by 
 a pinch of the ear, so severe as to draw blood, the favor 
 was complete. Junot, who cherished for him a sentiment 
 of attachment which set every other consideration at 
 nought, used to laugh heartily at these jokes, and then 
 thought no more about them. 
 
 However, it sometimes occurred that those by whom 
 they had been heard thought proper to repeat them ; and 
 it happened that on one occasion this was very annoy- 
 ing to me.- One day, when we were at Malmaison, the 
 First Consul was in high spirits. We were dining under 
 the trees which crown the little eminence on the left of 
 the meadow before the castle. 
 
 Madame Bonaparte that day wore powder for the first 
 time. It became her very well, but the First Consul did 
 nothing but laugh at her, and said she would do admir- 
 ably to act the Comtesse d'Escarbagnas. Josephine 
 was evidently displeased at this, and Bonaparte added, 
 (C What, are you afraid you will not have a cavalier? 
 There is the Marquis de Carabas (pointing to Junot), he 
 will offer you his arm, I am sure." 
 
 The First Consul had often before called both Junot 
 and Marmont the Marquis de Carabas ; but it was always 
 in good humor. It was, he said, on account of their 
 taste for dramatic representation. They, of course, only 
 ghed at the joke. Madame Bonaparte, however, took 
 it more seriously, and betrayed symptoms of vexation. 
 This was not the way to please Bonaparte. He took his 
 glass in his hand, and, looking toward his wife, he bowed 
 his head and said: 
 
 a To the health of Madame la Comtesse d'Escarbagnas. w 
 
 The continuance of this pleasantry brought tears into 
 Madame Bonaparte's eyes. Napoleon observed this, and
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 33 
 
 he was, I believe, sorry for what he had said. To make 
 amends, he again took up his glass, and, winking at me, 
 he said: 
 
 (< To the health of Madame la Marquise de Carabas. * 
 
 We all burst into a fit of laughter, in which Madame 
 Bonaparte joined, but her heart was nevertheless full. 
 The fact is, I was only sixteen, and she was forty. 
 
 Thus far the affair did not much concern me ; but now 
 for the sequel. Among the comrades of Junot, and 
 those who surrounded the First Consul, there were many 
 varieties of character. Courage was, to be sure, a virtue 
 common to them all; but among these valiant sons of 
 France there were many who were not gifted with much 
 common sense. One of these took it into his head to 
 repeat the First Consul's joke about the Marquis de 
 Carabas. His folly might have reached the ears of Junot 
 and have led to something more serious than a joke. 
 I wished to put a stop to it, and I consulted my mother 
 as to what I should do. She gave me my instructions, 
 and I returned to Malmaison, where we were then spend- 
 ing a few days. 
 
 On the following day, Junot, who was then Comman- 
 dant of Paris, was prevented coming to dinner, but he 
 came the day after. We were all on the bridge leading 
 to the garden, and the First Consul was sitting on the 
 edge of the parapet. 
 
 (< My dear," said I to Junot, <( the first time we go to 
 your country seat, you must not forget one thing which 
 is indispensably necessary in your retinue. If you neglect 
 it, I will not go with you, and so I warn you. I am 
 sure the General will say you ought to have it. }) 
 
 w What is it ? ° inquired the First Consul. 
 
 <( A Puss in Boots for a running footman. w The whole 
 party laughed immoderately ; but I shall never forget the 
 look of the First Consul. He was the subject for a cari- 
 caturist. <( I have preserved, 8 continued I with great 
 gravity, (< a plaything which was given me when I was a 
 little girl. You shall have it for a model. w 
 
 There was a great deal of laughter, but the matter 
 went no further that day. Some days afterward we had 
 assembled after dinner in the gallery next to the drawing- 
 room, and the individual who had so frequently repeated 
 Bonaparte's joke made the same allusion to the marquisate. 
 3
 
 34 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 I fixed my eye on the First Consul; he turned toward 
 his Sosia and said dryly: 
 
 <( When you wish to imitate me, you should choose 
 your subject better; methinks you might copy me in 
 better things. w 
 
 In about a quarter of an hour after this rebuke he 
 stepped up to me, and pinching my nose till he made 
 me cry out, he said: 
 
 <( My dear, you are a clever girl ; but you are very sa- 
 tirical. Correct this disposition. Remember that a woman 
 ceases to charm whenever she makes herself feared. M The 
 result of this was that I heard no more about the mar- 
 quisate. My mother, who had certainly been more ma- 
 licious in the affair than I had, inquired the particulars 
 of the whole scene, and when I described it she laughed 
 heartily, and said, <( I was sure that would do. M 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 The Parliament of 1787— Disturbances at Rennes — M. de Nouainville 
 — M. Necker — Project of M. de Lomenie — His Dismissal from the 
 Ministry — Burning of the Effigy — Riots in Paris — Louis XVI., 
 the Queen, and the Royal Family. 
 
 At the time our family came to Paris the popularity 
 enjoyed by Parliament was immense, and it might 
 have made use of that for the benefit and happi- 
 ness of all, had it given a right direction to public feel- 
 ing. France, though she contained within herself all the 
 elements of the commotions which were soon after de- 
 veloped, had not as yet unfurled the flag of revolution: 
 her wounds were sufficiently manifest, and might easily 
 have been healed by proper remedies. 
 
 We then saw what we now see, and what will always 
 be seen, viz, views of private interest taking the place 
 of patriotic professions. The desire, too, of shining in a 
 lengthened harangue, stuffed with scraps of erudition, 
 was a universal mania. 
 
 About this time Despr£m£nil had procured, by dint of 
 bribery, a proof sheet of the Ministerial edicts. When 
 he read them to the assembled Chambers, the most pro-
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 35 
 
 found indignation, and a thirst for vengeance, kindled 
 up the fatal war between the Court and the Parliament. 
 Seeing its interests attacked on all sides, that body be- 
 came an enemy, and a dangerous one. The rupture be- 
 came every day more and more serious. The Ministry, 
 irritated at the surreptitious divulgence of their plans, 
 ordered the arrest of Despremdnil in the most arbitrary 
 manner. The Parliament renewed its clamors: Paris was 
 filled with murmurs, and an ominous fermentation pre- 
 vailed everywhere. 
 
 At this juncture M. de Brienne, who neither knew how 
 to yield with grace nor to act with decision when the 
 occasion required it, prorogued all the parliaments of the 
 kingdom. This was a second appeal to insurrection, 
 which, indeed, seemed too slow in its advances. My 
 brother at that period went to join his regiment, which 
 was then in garrison at Saint Brieux; but having many 
 letters of recommendation at Rennes, he spent in that 
 town all the time he had at his disposal, before he joined 
 his comrades. 
 
 Rennes was then in such a state of ferment and irri- 
 tation as threatened an immediate explosion. The mag- 
 istracy and noblesse had united to protest in anticipation 
 against every infringement of their rights. The no- 
 blesse, indeed, were most violent: they declared that all 
 who accepted any of the new posts were scoundrels, and 
 they conveyed this protest by deputies, who were arrested 
 on their route by order of the Ministry. 
 
 One morning my brother was awakened by a great 
 tumult. He soon learned that Bertrand de Molleville and 
 the Comte de Thiars* were in imminent danger, in con- 
 sequence of endeavoring to register the edicts. He im- 
 mediately dressed himself, seized his sword and pistols, 
 and ran to the barracks of the Rohan-Chabot regiment, 
 which was then in garrison at Rennes. 
 
 My brother had friends there, and naturally was anx- 
 ious on their account, though he was aware of their 
 honorable sentiments. The excitement was at its height 
 when he arrived at the scene of action. The soldiers, 
 irritated and insulted by the people, had lost all pa- 
 tience, and the business would in all probability have 
 
 * The former the Intendant, the latter the Commandant, of the prov-
 
 36 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 terminated in bloodshed, had not an individual, whose 
 name is not sufficiently celebrated, that day immortal- 
 ized himself by his admirable conduct. The people were 
 proceeding to acts of violence; the soldiers only waited 
 for the order to fire, when M. Blondel de Nouainville 
 was commanded to execute the painful duty of directing 
 an attack on the people. Throwing himself into the 
 midst of the crowd, he exclaimed: 
 
 8 My friends, what is it you do? Do not sacrifice 
 yourselves! Are we not all brothers? Soldiers, halt!" 
 The troops and the people suspended their advance; at 
 the same instant tranquillity was restored, and M. De 
 Nouainville was carried about the town in triumph. 
 
 My father, whom confidential relations placed in com- 
 munication with M. Necker, introduced my brother to 
 him, in order that he might hear from his mouth the 
 recital of the tmeute at Rennes. My father was decid- 
 edly of opinion that, in a province like Brittany, such a 
 proceeding was more likely to add fuel to the flame 
 than to extinguish it. 
 
 My brother was then twenty-two years of age, and his 
 judgment ripened by much traveling, and a solid edu- 
 cation directed by an able father, enabled him, in spite 
 of his youth, not only to observe, but to draw useful 
 inductions from his observations. M. Necker perceived 
 this as he listened to his narrative, and he mentioned 
 it to my father. 
 
 Alas! how desirable it would have been if M. Necker, 
 who possessed a mind of such rectitude, had but listened 
 to my father, and used his influence with the Queen, 
 who was all-powerful, to arrest that fatal proceeding, 
 which, as she said, would reduce Brittany to the con- 
 dition of a conquered province! What torrents of French 
 blood were shed in Brittany ! and yet the Revolution had 
 not then commenced; for many date that event from' the 
 taking of the Bastile. M. de Lomenie's burlesque and 
 tragi-comic Ministry was still inundating us with its 
 •rs and its follies. Although the devotion of a true 
 citizen had stopped the effusion of blood at Rennes, 
 noble was steeped in gore. 
 
 An admirable address conveyed to the foot of the 
 throne a statement of the grievances which pressed on 
 the people of Dauphiny. For an answer it received an
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 37 
 
 insult, dictated to Louis XVI. by the delirium of an 
 insane Ministry. One false step was the parent of 
 another, and error succeeded error without the means of 
 providing a remedy. Finally, after trying over and over 
 again the dangerous experiment of a coup d'etat — after 
 the patience of the nation was exhausted, the Archbishop 
 made the fatal promise of assembling the States-General.* 
 
 It is certain that the hopes of the Archbishop of Sens, 
 in the distressing situation into which his imprudence 
 and folly had thrown him, rested upon a fragile edifice 
 of Machiavellian conception, which assuredly the wily Ital- 
 ian would never have avowed under similar circumstances. 
 
 Monsieur de Lomenie s project was to embroil the two 
 privileged Orders, and reconcile them again through the 
 medium of the King and the Third Estate; the object 
 of this fine plan was to destroy the influence of the first 
 two Orders. What infatuation! and it was to such a 
 man that the destinies of a great people were, for fifteen 
 months, intrusted! Truly it is difficult to determine 
 which is most strange — his absurdity, or the people's 
 toleration of it! 
 
 But even patience must have its term. The Treasury 
 was drained; famine and bankruptcy stared us in the 
 face ; all was ruin around us ! The public indignation at 
 length overwhelmed M. de Lomenie, and he retired from 
 the Ministry, pursued by the execrations of all parties. 
 
 On the day that terminated his administration, some 
 young men prepared an effigy, the size of life, and 
 dressed like the Archbishop in a crimson robe, of which 
 three-fifths were composed of satin, and the two others 
 of paper (by way of allusion to the decree of the 16th of 
 August preceding). This effigy they burned with all due 
 ceremony in the Place Dauphine, with every demonstra- 
 tion of extravagant exultation. 
 
 There was at that time in Paris a Chevalier Dubois, 
 who commanded the guard called the guet or patrol. 
 This guet was the gendarmerie of the time. The burning 
 of the effigy displeased M. Dubois; and next day, when 
 an attempt was made to renew the ceremony, he pre- 
 sented himself in person to forbid it. The demonstra- 
 tors desired him to go about his business; he refused, 
 and some altercation arose. He then desired his men to 
 
 *The King promised they should meet on the 1st of May, 1789.
 
 38 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUXOT 
 
 employ their arms, and they did so without mercy. At 
 sight of the killed and wounded the people became furi- 
 ous; they attacked and drove away the guet; several 
 guardhouses were forced and the arms seized. The riot 
 continued to increase. It was now night. A detachment 
 of the French guards, concealed under the arcade of 
 Saint Jean and in the Rue Martrois, fired on the crowd, 
 and killed a great number. The dead bodies were thrown 
 into the Seine, and tranquillity was for a time restored. 
 
 But on the resignation of the Keeper of the Seals, who 
 was as much disliked as the Archbishop of Toulouse, the 
 discontent of the people again broke out. Great rioting 
 ensued in the streets of Paris, and numbers of people 
 were killed by the military. 
 
 M. Xecker was called to the head of the department 
 of finance, and affairs took a favorable aspect. The 
 finances of the country acquired confidence, the prisoners 
 were released from the Bastile, and the Parliament was 
 reassembled. The double representation of the Third 
 Estate was the wish of every just and reasonable man. 
 It was found necessary to adopt it; and on the 27th of 
 December, 1788, at a Royal Council at which the Queen 
 was present, it was determined to grant the additional 
 representation. 
 
 This measure produced enthusiastic joy throughout all 
 France, the demonstration of which was attended by con- 
 siderable disturbance at Montmartre, Rennes, and other 
 towns in that part of the country. 
 
 It seemed, indeed, as if the whole of France was in- 
 cluded in the provinces of Dauphiny, Brittany, and the 
 Franche-Comte\ Hence it was that the people constantly 
 insisted on the revival of their old rights and preroga- 
 tives; hence those perpetual contests between the States, 
 the Parliaments, and the King's Council. For example, 
 in Franche-Comte\ thirty-two members of the noblesse 
 protested against the decree of the majority of the 
 States The Parliament canceled the protest, and the 
 King's Council in its turn canceled the decree of 
 the Parliament. 
 
 The fact is, Louis XVI. might have been competent 
 to govern in ordinary times; his virtues might have 
 shed luster over a peaceful throne; but the storm could 
 only be allayed by a degree of courage and decision in
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 39 
 
 which he was wanting - . The King had near him a per- 
 fidious enemy in his Privy Council. 
 
 The Queen, too, exercised great influence over him, 
 and was a most dangerous guide. She was passionate, 
 full of prejudices, and ready to make any sacrifice to 
 revenge herself when her private interests were wounded. 
 But her misfortunes and those of the King, must throw 
 a veil over their faults. 
 
 As to the other members of the royal family, they 
 were so divided that they could afford no rallying point, 
 The King's aunts, one of whom had previously possessed 
 great influence over the royal couple, had been superseded 
 by other favorites. Madame Victoire had no power; 
 and as to the pious Madame Elizabeth, she conceived 
 she had no other duty to perform than to offer up 
 prayers for the safety of those about her. 
 
 Monsieur had set up a sort of opposition, which in 
 France was infinitely more dangerous than it would have 
 been in England, where it seems to be quite orthodox 
 that the heir to the throne should head an opposition. 
 Monsieur, however, did his brothers great injury without 
 perhaps intending it, and the conduct of Madame was 
 even more mischievous. 
 
 As the Comte d'Artois, his claim might have been void, 
 though he stood on the steps of the throne, had he not 
 considered it a point of honor to disavow any other law 
 than the established authority of the Crown. Such was 
 the situation of France and the royal family in 1789, 
 just before the opening of the States-General. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Opening of the States-General — Conversation between Bonaparte and 
 Comte Louis de Narbonne — Baron de Breteuil — The Queen and 
 M. de Vergennes — Mirabeau — Advances Made by the Court — 
 A Bribe Refused — The Queen's Anger — Mirabeau Solicits an In- 
 terview with the Queen. 
 
 On the 5th of May, 1789, the States-General were 
 opened. I was then too young to understand the 
 solemnity of the spectacle presented by the States 
 when they proceeded to the church of St. Louis at Ver-
 
 4 o MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUXOT 
 
 sailles to hear mass on the day preceding their sitting; 
 but I well recollect the immense and joyful crowd which 
 thronged the three avenues, and lined the road along 
 which the deputies passed. 
 
 The States commenced their labors. Had union pre- 
 vailed throughout all the parts of the great whole, that 
 admirable work would have been brought to a favorable 
 issue. Unfortunately, there was not only a want of un- 
 ion, but there was no wish to establish it. The Third 
 .ite grew tired of not being heard, or rather of re- 
 ceiving, by way of answer, demands made by the clergy 
 and nobility, in a tone of authority ill-suited to prevail- 
 ing circumstances. At length came the separation of the 
 Third Estate from the two privileged orders. This was 
 the finishing stroke ; the grand contest between the throne 
 and the nation was now about to be decided. 
 
 The retreat of the Third Estate into the Tennis Court 
 produced an effect which years would not have brought 
 about. The deputies, by declaring themselves to be the 
 representatives of a great nation, acquired new power: 
 the people began to measure their strength, and they 
 found that they might venture very far in attempting 
 the great work of their deliverance. 
 
 One of the causes which contributed to overthrow the 
 throne of France, at this disastrous period, Was under- 
 ground intrigue. Napoleon, when one day conversing 
 about the Revolution with Comte Louis de Narbonne, said : 
 
 <( But you had great influence, had you not ? M M. de 
 Narbonne observed that nothing could be more unfounded 
 than that supposition. His constitutional opinions with- 
 held him alike from advocating or opposing the Revolu- 
 tion M. de Narbonne added that it was the Queen 
 herself who insisted on the double representation of the 
 royal authority, though without any hostile feeling 
 toward France, which she loved and regarded as her 
 adopted country. Many absurdities have been advanced 
 on this subject; for example, what could be more ridicu- 
 lous than to suppose the Queen to have been more at- 
 tached to her brother than to her husband, her children, 
 and her crown ? 
 
 (< I believe, however, 8 said M. de Narbonne, <( that in 
 1792 the Queen was so irritated by all she had suffered 
 for three years previously, that her love for France was
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 41 
 
 naturally very much diminished." As to the hidden 
 government, the Baron de Breteuil is the individual who 
 is most to be reproached on that score. While he 
 declared it to be his wish to establish the English Con- 
 stitution in France, he would have introduced the Con- 
 stitution of Constantinople if there had been such a 
 thing. That man did a great deal of mischief in France, 
 with his loud voice and narrow ideas. 
 
 My mother described to me the enthusiastic admiration 
 with which the Queen was received on one occasion when 
 she appeared at the opera soon after her marriage. The 
 performance was <( Iphigdnie en A ulide. B The Queen arrived 
 very late, and the fine chorus Chantons, cc'Ubrons notre 
 Reinc, had just been sung. As soon as the Queen entered, 
 the repetition of the chorus was unanimously called for, 
 and it was sung by the whole audience with such affec- 
 tionate ardor that the Queen melted into tears. Alas! 
 unfortunate princess, how soon was this love changed to 
 hatred! 
 
 The following is one of the many circumstances which 
 combined to effect that change. While M. de Vergennes 
 was in the department of Foreign Affairs, he was one day 
 summoned by the Queen on some very singular business. 
 The Queen's brother, the Emperor, had requested her to 
 obtain a loan of twelve millions for him. Of course, it 
 was understood that the money was to be repaid ; but, in 
 the public ferment which then existed, it was necessary 
 that both the loan and the repayment should be kept a 
 profound secret. 
 
 The matter was very difficult; for, on the Queen's own 
 acknowledgment, the King was decidedly opposed to it. 
 The Queen informed M. de Vergennes that she wished him 
 to devise some means of raising the money, and, above 
 all, of inducing the King to consent to it. 
 
 "With all the respect I entertain for Your Majesty, w 
 replied the Minister, (< T am unfortunately obliged to dis- 
 obey your commands. The State Treasury is empty; we 
 are approaching a terrible crisis, and I should consider 
 myself very culpable were I, by my advice, to urge the 
 King to a step which cannot but be fatal to Your Majesties 
 and to France. w 
 
 <( Sir, w said the Queen haughtily, <( I sent for you to 
 request your intercession, not to ask for your advice.
 
 - MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 I shall, without your aid, prevail on the King- to do 
 what will strengthen the links of friendship between 
 ace and Austria. I shall merely trouble you to pro- 
 eure the funds; and I will, if necessary, be the security. 
 The Queen of France may love her adopted country with- 
 out ting that she is an Austrian Archduchess. I 
 want no new taxes. I do not even wish that the depart- 
 ment of Finance should be applied to in this affair; but 
 a loan may be raised, and let it be done." 
 
 M. nnes returned home much disconcerted. 
 
 The Queen's determination seemed to be positive, and 
 the Minister plainly saw that the King would yield to 
 the entreaties of the woman he loved. That very even- 
 ing the King sent for him, and informed him, with an 
 embarrassed air, of the promise which the Queen had 
 irted from him, and expressed his wish that the sum, 
 or at least half of it, should be raised. 
 
 It was not easy at that time to raise money for the 
 ernment itself, and great address was requisite to 
 attain that object. There was in Paris an immensely 
 rich banker named Durhuet. He was commissioned by 
 M. de Vergennes to raise the loan. . great deal 
 
 of trouble and one or two journeys, lie at length suc- 
 ceeded. The courier who was to convey to Vienna the 
 intelligence that the King had given his consent to a 
 loan of twelve millions, when France wanted bread, was 
 ready to start. M. de Vergennes delivered to him his 
 patches with secret instructions. The courier set out; 
 but when he had got about twenty leagues from Paris 
 he was suddenly taken ill, and was obliged to suspend 
 his journey for forty-eight hours. 
 
 This interval was well employed by the Minister. He 
 threw himself at the King'^ feet, and so earnestly im- 
 plored him to consider that the step he was about to 
 iuld be attended by fatal consequences, that Louis 
 XVI. consented to the recall of the courier. The money 
 was restored to M. Durhuet, and the King's refused was 
 sent to Vienna instead of the loan. 
 
 After the separation of the Third Estate from the two 
 privileged Orders, but few means of reconciliation really 
 remained, though at first there appeared many, and 
 among them was to win over Mirabeau. This astonish- 
 ing man was without doubt, the greatest political char-
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 43 
 
 acter of our Revolution. His portrait has been drawn 
 in every attitude, under all possible lights; and yet they 
 have but little understood this wonderful orator who think 
 they have said enough when they echo the expressions: 
 
 "What inimitable talent' he was surely inspired! but, 
 then, the immorality of his writings!" and so on. 
 
 I am, indeed, far from wishing to represent Mirabeau 
 as an estimable character; but the brilliancy of that co- 
 lossal talent with which nature had gifted him still re- 
 mains to elicit admiration, and make us overlook, by the 
 contrast, the shades which darken so splendid a picture. 
 It would be the height of absurdity in me to lay a tint 
 upon the portrait of Mirabeau which would in any de- 
 gree diminish its truth to nature. 
 
 I merely contend that, in speaking of him, we ought 
 not to take for granted all the errors which have been 
 laid to his charge. It matters little to us that the old 
 magisterial peruke of the President Le Monier was com- 
 promised in the tribunals. What business have we with 
 the matrimonial squabbles of M. and Mine, de Mira- 
 beau? 
 
 I cannot class Mirabeau with the rest of the men who 
 figured in the Revolution. I flatter myself I knew more 
 of his real character than those who were acquainted with 
 him at the epoch of his brilliant existence. The fact is, 
 that I was in the habit of seeing regularly, almost every 
 day, for at least seven years of my early life, the two 
 individuals who were best able to give me an accurate 
 opinion of Mirabeau. 
 
 The first was his dearest friend, the man he cherished 
 above all others, and who in return almost worshiped 
 his memory. This man, who followed the political path 
 of Mirabeau, and who, by means of his intimacy with 
 him, and subsequently with Dumourier, obtained a sort 
 of influence in the Government, was Bonnecarere. He 
 lived at Versailles at the time I resided there. 
 
 The other individual was Cardinal Maury, who, when 
 only an abbe\ was the opponent of Mirabeau, by whom, 
 however, he was constantly defeated. From the senti- 
 ments of these two men, and likewise from some docu- 
 ments which have been placed at my disposal, I have 
 drawn my inferences. I have formed an opinion which is, 
 I trust, divested of prejudice. Excluded from the rank
 
 44 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 to which his birth entitled him, Mirabeau determined to 
 recover it at any price. 
 
 He vowed vengeance against his enemies, and with this 
 bitterness of feeling did Mirabeau take his seat in the 
 assembly of the States-General. As he entered the Hall 
 on the day of opening, he cast a threatening glance on 
 the ranks which he was not allowed to approach. A 
 bitter smile played on his lips, which were habitually con- 
 tracted by an ironical and scornful expression. He pro- 
 ceeded across the Hall, and seated himself upon those 
 benches from which he was soon to hurl the thunder- 
 bolts which shook the throne. 
 
 A gentleman strongly attached to the Court, but like- 
 wise a friend of Mirabeau, the Comte de R6b 1, who 
 
 had observed the rancorous look which he darted around 
 him when he took his seat, entered into conversation 
 with him the same day, and pointed out to him that his 
 peculiar position in the world closed every salon in Paris 
 against him. 
 
 <( Consider, * said the Count, <( that society when once 
 wounded is not easily conciliated. If you wish to be par- 
 doned, you must ask pardon. B 
 
 Mirabeau listened with impatience to what the Count 
 said, but when he used the word <( pardon" he could con- 
 tain himself no longer, but started up and stamped vio- 
 lently on the ground. His bushy hair seemed to stand 
 on end, his little piercing eyes flashed fire, and his lips 
 turned pale and quivered. This was always the way with 
 Mirabeau when he was strongly excited. 
 
 <( I am come hither, B cried he in a voice of thunder, 
 °to be asked, not to ask for, pardon. M These words were 
 reported that very evening to the Queen. Her Majesty 
 used to note in her memorandum book those deputies 
 whose talents were worthy her notice. We may con- 
 clude that Mirabeau stood at the top of her red-ink 
 list. 
 
 That Mirabeau was corruptible, all the world knows. 
 To manage a negotiation with him was, however, a diffi- 
 cult and delicate task. Nevertheless, intrigue and cun- 
 ning afforded hopes of success at a moment when fears 
 and misgivings were becoming more and more acute and 
 ply seated. 
 
 On the 7th of May, 1789, the Queen was informed of
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 45 
 
 Mirabeau's hostile intentions.* M. Necker was consulted, 
 and his opinion was that Mirabeau was possessed of ex- 
 traordinary talent, but wanted judgment; and he consid- 
 ered him not very formidable. 
 
 But M. Necker ought to have known enough of our 
 nation to be aware what might be produced by brilliant 
 oratory and an eloquence teeming with facts. Now, the 
 cause that Mirabeau had undertaken to defend was in 
 itself the most just of all causes, and that M. Necker 
 knew better than most people. He, however, declined 
 to have anything to do with the negotiation, and merely 
 yielded to the Queen's wish to place at her disposal 
 a sum of money to assist the execution of her de- 
 signs. 
 
 Furnished with his instructions and a well-stocked 
 purse, the Comte de Reb 1 went one morning to Mira- 
 beau, plied him with much art, and finally made him 
 offers which he felt confident he would not hesitate to 
 accept. But fate ordained that the man who had always 
 been needy, and tormented by creditors, was at that 
 moment well supplied with money. 
 
 What was the result? He rejected the proposition of 
 
 Comte de R£b 1, and asked him for whom he took 
 
 him. Mirabeau dismissed the Count with the dignity of 
 an ancient Greek, telling him that offers of money could 
 not be listened to. The Count, though chagrined at his 
 disappointment, did not lose hope. He knew Mirabeau 
 well enough, and was sure he would not remain long in 
 his present frame of mind. 
 
 That same evening a man who served Mirabeau in the 
 capacity of a pacolet called upon the Count. This man, 
 like Joulevet, was a kind of factotum to the tribune of 
 the people. He had been implicated in the trial of 
 Madame Lemonnier, and since that period had served, 
 though indirectly, his dangerous patron, whom he loved. 
 He was a practiced intriguer, and had been attracted to 
 Paris by the assembling of the States-General, reasonably 
 presuming that there his talents would find occupation. 
 He waited on his old patron, and through the medium 
 
 *That is to say, that it was known by his own avowal what he 
 intended to do. and what he required for pursuing a directly contrary 
 line of conduct. The documents relating to this have been in my 
 hands, and are still in existence.
 
 46 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 of M. de Bonnecarere, from whom I had these facts, was 
 introduced to Mirabeau. Obscure as this man was, he 
 was of singular assistance to Mirabeau. Of this I have 
 seen written proofs. 
 
 Joulevet opened the conference with the Comte de 
 
 Reb 1 by announcing to him that Mirabeau consented 
 
 to place his influence at the disposal of the Court, but 
 required, he said, an honorable treaty, and not a paltry 
 bargain ; * that he did not wish to supersede M. Necker, 
 whose talents he respected (this, by the way, is not true, 
 for Mirabeau made him the constant butt of his raillery), f 
 but that any other department of the Ministry would suit 
 him. On these terms he would devote his services to 
 the Court. 
 
 The Comte de Reb 1, who was a simple man, 
 
 thought, on hearing this, that ambition had wrought this 
 change in Mirabeau. He went to him, and was this time 
 well received, and heard all the reasons he gave for his 
 readiness to sacrifice himself by entering the Ministry 
 at such a moment. The same day the Count saw the 
 individual who was to speak to the Queen, and he, on 
 the first intelligence of the capitulation of Mirabeau (for 
 he was really a stronghold), ran immediately to acquaint 
 the Queen with the happy news. The Count followed, 
 and when he entered the Queen's cabinet, her Majesty 
 advanced toward him, her countenance beaming with 
 pleasure. 
 
 "The King will be gratified by your zeal, monsieur, w 
 said she to the plenipotentiary. <( Well, had you a good 
 bargain of this man ? How much has he cost ? w The 
 
 Comte de Reb 1 then said that Mirabeau, with true 
 
 magnanimity, had rejected all propositions of a pecuniary 
 nature. He then mentioned the appointment to the 
 Ministry. 
 
 At the mention of this the Queen reddened, and then 
 
 * My memory is rather in doubt with regard to the amount of the 
 sum stipulated — I think 100,000 francs. I have forgotten whether this 
 sum was part of the personal property of M. Necker. But M. Necker's 
 honorable character would lead to that inference. 
 
 f Since writing the above, I have seen a work of Madame de Stael, 
 
 in which she states that Mirabeau had a high opinion of M. Necker. In 
 
 this she is certainly deceived. I know that Mirabeau used among his 
 
 intimate friends to call him a fool and a political Cassandra. Madame 
 
 tael's filial affection carries her too far.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 47 
 
 turned deadly pale. She closed her eyes, and, striking 
 her forehead with her hand, exclaimed: 
 
 (< A Minister! Make Riquetti Mirabeau a Minister! 
 Never ! never will I allow the threshold of the King's 
 Council to be sullied by the footsteps of such a 
 man. }> 
 
 She trembled with rage. (< Let him have money ! 
 Give him all he asks for ! But to make him a Minister ! 
 — Is it possible that my friends can give me this advice ? * 
 She then paced the room with every mark of violent 
 agitation, repeating the words, <( A Minister, forsooth ! a 
 Minister ! * 
 
 The sequel of the story is curious. The sum offered 
 to Mirabeau might be regarded as considerable at a 
 period when money, being distributed in every direction, 
 was not very abundant at Versailles. After Mirabeau 
 had refused it three times, the Queen desired the individ- 
 ual employed in the negotiation to return it. This in- 
 dividual departed for Germany, and after he was gone 
 Mirabeau became pressed for money, and did not know 
 how to raise it. He had missed the opportunity, and 
 the channel of communication was gone. 
 
 When the intermediary returned it was too late: Mira- 
 beau had entered the lists, he had thrown down the 
 gauntlet, and now wanted both money and office. It is 
 curious that Mirabeau earnestly solicited an interview 
 with the Queen. But the Queen would consent to it only 
 on condition that it should be in the presence of M. de 
 
 Reb 1 or Monsieur. Mirabeau, however, would not 
 
 accede to that condition. 
 
 What could be Mirabeau's object in so urgently press- 
 ing this interview ? Did he not believe the truth of the 
 story of the necklace ? Did he found any hopes on the 
 powers of captivation with which nature had endowed him, 
 in spite of his personal disadvantages ? 
 
 It is not surprisiug that Mirabeau should have main- 
 tained profound silence on this affair. It was a point of 
 the utmost importance that members of the States-General 
 should preserve, in the opinions of the citizens, a char- 
 acter for purity, independence, and disinterestedness. 
 All and each of the deputies pledged themselves on 
 their honor not to solicit or accept any pension or favor 
 directly or indirectly. These considerations rendered
 
 4 S MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 Mirabeau circumspect, and whatever might be his habitual 
 imprudence, he acted with no indiscretion in this affair, 
 the details of which were not known until some years 
 afterward. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Louis XVI. at the Hotel de Ville on the 14th of July — Revolutionary 
 Scenes —Departure of My Father and Brother for England — My 
 
 Father's Return — His Duel with M. de Som le — Domiciliary 
 
 Visit to My Father's House — Napoleon's Remarks upon It — The 10th 
 of August — We Save Two of Our Friends — M. de Condorcet — My 
 Father Denounced — Departure of My Father and Mother from Paris 
 — My Sister and I placed at a Boarding School. 
 
 When, after the 14th of July, the King was conducted 
 to the Hotel de Ville to sanction the Revolution 
 against himself, my father informed me that his 
 deep distress and calm, dignified deportment inspired 
 respect from all who surrounded him. The King had 
 long seen the storm gathering in the horizon ; it had now 
 burst upon his head. The danger was before him. My 
 father said that the pious expression of the King's 
 countenance showed how he viewed his situation. He 
 judged it as a Christian if he did not judge it as a King. 
 
 Before the Revolution of the 14th of July M. Necker 
 had been dismissed. He was recalled after that event. 
 From this indecision it was clear that the ship had no 
 pilot. At this period a report which had long been cir- 
 culated assumed a semblance of truth. The Due d'Or- 
 leans had been accused of being the head of a party, 
 and the newspapers of the day employed his name in 
 the hints which they daily set forth that France should 
 follow the example of England. 
 
 The Due d'Orleans was fixed upon, because, in the 
 English Revolution, the direct line of the royal family 
 had been expelled in favor of the Prince of Orange. 
 The thing was so often repeated that the Due d'Orleans 
 began at last to believe that he might place himself at the 
 head of a party and become the leader of a faction without 
 the qualification for such an office. Robespierre and 
 others set the Due d'Orleans forward, because they
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 49 
 
 wanted something that would please the moderate and 
 reasonable party. That party allowed itself to be caught 
 in the snare. 
 
 I recollect, as though they were terrible dreams, the 
 14th of July, the 6th of October, the 21st of June, and 
 several other days which formed the most fatal in the 
 calendar. On the 6th of October, in particular, I remem- 
 ber, seeing my mother, at three in the afternoon, order- 
 ing the servants to shut the drawing-room shutters which 
 looked on the quay. My father wished to go to Ver- 
 sailles; but she wept and held him by the arm, entreat- 
 ing him not to leave us. 
 
 My father, alarmed at the aspect of affairs, which was 
 every day becoming more threatening, converted his 
 property into English stock, and set off with my brother 
 to London. There he remained for some weeks, and 
 then returned to France, leaving my brother in England 
 to await his further instructions. 
 
 Many events occurred in our family during the absence 
 of my brother. My father's constitutional principles were 
 well known, and yet his attachment to the King led him 
 into several disputes. He fought a duel with M. de 
 
 Som le, an officer in my brother's regiment, who, in 
 
 my father's presence, made some remarks on the opinions 
 
 of Albert. M. de Som le was slightly wounded in 
 
 the arm, but my father escaped unhurt. 
 
 At that period a family who kept many servants could 
 not be sure of all. My father took all possible precautions. 
 The duel was not known, it is true ; but the quarrel 
 which gave rise to it was repeated with various commen- 
 taries. This was attended by dangerous consequences. 
 
 In the preceding year a man, who said he was an 
 upholsterer, established himself in a little shop in the 
 neighborhood of the Mint. He came to request my 
 mother's custom ; but he was informed that she had al- 
 ready an upholsterer whom she was not inclined to dis- 
 card for a stranger. He was insolent, and a dispute 
 arose between him and the servant. The noise drew my 
 father to the door, and the result was that M. Thirion 
 was turned out of the house. My father and the rest of 
 the family thought no more about this affair, but Thirion 
 remembered it, and he vowed deadly hatred against us. 
 The Sections were formed. This man acquired some 
 4
 
 50 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 influence in ours. He became secretary, clerk, or I know 
 not what. A few days after m3 r father's return from 
 England a domiciliary visit was made to our house. It 
 was under the direction of Thirion, who had probably 
 instigated it. 
 
 My father had just risen and was shaving, when, to 
 his surprise, Thirion entered his dressing room and in- 
 formed him that he had come to inquire his age, his 
 qualifications, and the object of his recent journey. My 
 father insisted on seeing his authority, and Thirion re- 
 fused to show it. My father flew into a violent rage, 
 and, seizing on a large stick, would probably have in- 
 sisted on inflicting a severe chastisement on Thirion but 
 for my mother's intercession ; Thirion took his departure, 
 after declaring that he should make a report against my 
 father. 
 
 In the midst of the agitation into which this scene 
 threw my mother and me, Napoleon Bonaparte happened 
 to call. On being informed of what had taken place he 
 expressed great indignation, and immediately repaired to 
 the Section, the club, the committee, or whatever might 
 be the authority which at that time ordered domiciliary 
 visits. Thirion had already made his report; but Na- 
 poleon, nevertheless, animadverted strongly on Thirion's 
 refusal to produce his order. "If, 9 said he, <( M. de 
 Permon had fired a pistol at that man, he would only 
 have been defending his house against an insolent in- 
 truder, and no one could have blamed him. w 
 
 This happened on the 7th or 8th of August. The 
 10th was a day which I shall never forget. It was the 
 day of my fete, and hitherto I had always spent it hap- 
 pily. Some of my young friends had been invited to 
 visit me, and my little chamber was filled with flowers, 
 toys, and sweetmeats. But our festival day proved a 
 day of mourning. 
 
 In the streets the cries of the people mingled with 
 the thundering of artillery and the groans of the wounded. 
 About noon my brother entered with one of his com- 
 panions-in-arms, who was wrapped in a greatcoat. The 
 young man had tasted nothing for forty hours, and he 
 had just escaped from the pursuit of those who would 
 have massacred him if they had found him. His family 
 lay under great obligations to the Queen. His duty and
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 51 
 
 his opinions happened to coincide. In the course of a 
 few days he had fought three duels, two of which had 
 terminated fatally. 
 
 One of his deceased adversaries was a relation of 
 Manuel ; consequently there was everything to fear. The 
 young gentleman was concealed in my little apartment, 
 and I received instructions as to the answers I should 
 give in case of the house being searched. The cautious 
 prudence I had then to observe in behalf of a stranger 
 afterward became useful to me when those I most 
 dearly loved were in similar danger. 
 
 My father was out, and my mother had anxiously 
 expected his return for several hours. My brother went 
 frequently to the gate to look for him. He even ven- 
 tured as far as the quay, where he heard of the depo- 
 sition of the King, but could see nothing of my father. 
 The storm seemed to be subsiding, but the firing of 
 musketry was still heard at intervals. Night was draw- 
 ing in, and my father had not yet returned. My brother 
 again went down to the gate to look for him, and he 
 saw a man quickly turn round the corner of our hotel. 
 
 He immediately recognized the figure of my father. 
 He called to him, and my father advanced, looking 
 cautiously behind him. He desired my brother to leave 
 the door open, observing that he was merely going 
 round the corner to fetch a person who was in the col- 
 onnade of the Mint. He returned, bringing with him a 
 gentleman who was scarcely able to walk. He was lean- 
 ing on the arm of my father, who conducted him silently 
 to a bedchamber. 
 
 Alas! when the wounded man threw off the large mil- 
 itary cloak which enveloped him, what was our distress 
 to recognize M. de Bevy! He was pale and faint, and 
 the blood was flowing copiously from his wounds. Tran- 
 quillity was not restored during the whole of the night. 
 Owing to the situation of our house, we were in greater 
 safety than many of our neighbors, for we were less in 
 sight, and more out of hearing of the threats and impre- 
 cations uttered by the crowds who paraded Paris during 
 the whole of the night. 
 
 On the morning of the nth a message was sent by 
 the valet de chambre of my brother's young friend, in- 
 forming him that he was in great danger, as Manuel
 
 52 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUXOT 
 
 was making strict search for him. A strange idea then 
 occurred to my brother, though in its result it proved 
 very fortunate. M. de Condorcet lodged at that time in 
 an entresol in the Mint. My brother had occasion to see 
 him several times, and he had always treated him in a 
 very friendly way. My brother went to him. I do not 
 know what passed in the interview, but Albert's friend 
 was saved. 
 
 My father entertained no fears for his own safety. He 
 was engaged in writing a letter for M. de Bevy, when our 
 butcher, an honest, worthy man, who was a lieutenant or 
 captain in the National Guards, sent to inform us that 
 my father had been denounced for having harbored ene- 
 mies of the people. 
 
 My father paid little attention to this warning; but in 
 about an hour afterward he received more positive in- 
 formation that he would be arrested that very night. 
 The individual who brought him this information added 
 to it the promise of a passport for one of the cities in 
 the South of France, and undertook to conduct my 
 father, accompanied by my mother (but my mother only), 
 out of Paris. She was almost distracted at the thought 
 of leaving her children behind her at such a moment ; but 
 there was no alternative. 
 
 After long deliberation as to what would be the best 
 way of disposing of myself and my sister, it was deter- 
 mined that we should be placed at a boarding school, 
 and that my brother should have a lodging near us. 
 This plan was no sooner resolved on than executed, and 
 before night my sister and I were installed in a boarding 
 school in the Faubourg Saint Antoine, kept by Mesde- 
 moiselles Chevalier.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 53 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Murder of Madame de Lamballe — Our Removal to Toulouse — My 
 Father Summoned before the Section — My Mother's Letter to 
 Salicetti — He Makes My Brother His Secretary — Death of the King 
 and Madame Elizabeth — My Father's Illness — Friendly Warning 
 of Couder — Our Journey to the Waters of Cauterets — Death of 
 Robespierre. 
 
 My sister and I were wretched during - the time we 
 remained at the boarding school. Our only inter- 
 vals of happiness were when my brother came to 
 see us, which he did as often as he could. One day, 
 when my brother came to pay us a visit, he perceived as 
 he came along groups of individuals whose sanguinary 
 drunkenness was horrible. Many were naked to the 
 waist, and their arms and breasts were covered with blood. 
 They bore tattered garments upon their pikes and swords. 
 Their countenances were inflamed, and their eyes hag- 
 gard; in short, their appearance was hideous. These 
 groups became more frequent and more numerous. 
 
 My brother, in his uneasiness about us, determined to 
 come to us at all risks, and drove rapidly along the 
 Boulevard until he arrived opposite the house of Beau- 
 marchais. There he was stopped by an immense mob, 
 composed also of half-naked individuals besmeared with 
 blood, and who had the appearance of demons incarnate. 
 They vociferated, sang, and danced. It was the Saturnalia 
 of Hell! On perceiving Albert's cabriolet they cried out: 
 
 (< Let it be taken to him ! Let it be taken to him ! He 
 is an aristocrat ! w 
 
 In a moment the cabriolet was surrounded by the 
 multitude, and from the middle of the crowd an object 
 seemed to arise and approach. My brother's troubled 
 sight did not enable him at first to perceive long auburn 
 tresses clotted with blood, and a countenance even still 
 lovely. The object came nearer and nearer, until it was 
 opposite to him. My unhappy brother uttered an in- 
 voluntary shriek. He had recognized the head of Madame 
 de Lamballe ! * 
 
 * During the horrible massacres of September, 1792, the Princesse de 
 Lamballe was seized and carried, in the first instance, to the prison of
 
 54 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 We received a letter from my mother, dated Toulouse. 
 She and my father had fixed their temporary abode in 
 that city, and they desired us to join them. "We accord- 
 ingly left Paris for that purpose. We lodged in the 
 house of M. de Montauriol, President of the Parliament 
 of Toulouse. It was situated in the finest part of the 
 town, and was divided between four families. We were 
 no sooner established in our new abode than my father 
 was summoned to appear before the President of the 
 Section or district. My father was in such a state of 
 irritability that my mother would not suffer him to go, 
 and my brother went in his stead. 
 
 It was some time before my brother could make the 
 worthy magistrate comprehend that the citizen Permon 
 he saw before him was not citizen Permon the elder, 
 and that the latter was too ill to attend. When at length 
 this was explained to him after considerable difficulty, he 
 exclaimed: 
 
 "And -what do you do here? coward! aristocrat! why 
 are you not with the army ? w 
 
 My brother replied that he was not with the army be- 
 cause, his father being ill, his mother and sisters required 
 his protection. However, this explanation was not con- 
 La Force. She was afterward removed to the Abbey, to be questioned 
 before two ferocious men of the name of Hebert and L'Hullier, ap- 
 pointed to sit as judges. The following is the whole of her trial : Ques- 
 tion. Who are you? — Answer. Maria Louisa, Princess of Savoy. O. 
 Your quality? — A. Superintendent of the Queen's Household. Q. Had 
 you any knowledge of the plots of the Court on the ioth of August? — A. 
 I do not know that there were any plots on the ioth of August ; but this 
 I know, that I had no knowledge of them. Q. Will you swear to lib- 
 equality, and a detestation of the King, the Queen, and Royalty? 
 — A. I shall readily swear to the first two, but I cannot swear to the 
 last, as I have no such sentiment in my heart. A bystander whispered, 
 <( Ik you do not swear, you are a dead woman. 3 * She was led into a 
 court of the prison already strewn with dead bodies, where, on receiv- 
 ing the blow of a dagger, she fell, fainting with the loss of blood; and 
 soon afterward her body was pierced by a lance, and her noble spirit 
 fled. We dare not relate all the horrors and indignities that were 
 heaped on her. Her head was cut off, and carried through Paris to the 
 Palais Royal, and exposed beneath the window of the Due d'Orleans, 
 who gazed on it for awhile without uttering a syllable. He was charged 
 with being privy to this murder by the double motive of revenge and 
 interest; for, by her death, he gained her jointure of a hundred thou- 
 sand crowns, which she received out of the fortune of the Duchesse 
 d'Orleans, who was her sister-in-law.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 55 
 
 sidered satisfactory, and my brother narrowly escaped 
 being- arrested on the spot. When he returned home he 
 was in great distress and alarm. He consulted my mother 
 on the means of securing my father's safety; and she, 
 with the admirable spirit and presence of mind which 
 never forsook her, determined to write to her country- 
 man, Salicetti, who was then in Paris awaiting the King's 
 trial. 
 
 My father had been intimately acquainted with M. 
 Durosoi, who edited a journal entitled (< L'Ami du Ko:. n 
 M. Durosoi, who was firmly wedded to his own opinions, 
 happened to meet Salicetti one day in my father's house, 
 and a warm discussion arose between them, my father 
 supporting the arguments of Durosoi, and my mother 
 those of Salicetti. The latter left the house out of humor, 
 and the course of events obliged my mother and father 
 to quit Paris before they had an opportunity of seeing 
 him again. 
 
 My mother feared that he might bear in mind the part 
 my father had taken in the discussion above mentioned; 
 and this fear was not so unfounded as it may appear. 
 My father's opinions might be expected to influence his 
 conduct as well as his language ; and this reflection would 
 naturally occur to the man who was asked to be a sort 
 of security for him. My mother felt this difficulty, but 
 she nevertheless determined to write. The letter was 
 that of a wife and a mother. She appealed to his past 
 friendship, to the remembrance of their common coun- 
 try, and concluded by assuring Salicetti that she should 
 owe to him the lives of her husband and her chil- 
 dren. 
 
 The danger was no doubt great, but perhaps not so 
 great as my mother's fears led her to imagine — at least, 
 as far as regarded my father. My brother was really in 
 much greater danger; for he was required to join the 
 army, and to do that would have been to march to cer- 
 tain death, for the fatigues he had already undergone 
 had brought on a pulmonary inflammation. 
 
 By the next courier, Salicetti returned an exceedingly 
 kind answer to my mother's letter. After thanking her 
 for giving him an opportunity to serve her, he informed 
 her that he had placed her husband under the immediate 
 protection of the authorities of Toulouse. As to my
 
 56 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 brother, he appointed him his secretary, and sent him his 
 nomination, together with leave to spend three months 
 with his family. 
 
 My brother accepted the offer of Salicetti, though with- 
 out the knowledge of my father, whose feelings were at 
 that time so deeply wounded that we did not think it 
 advisable to add to his distress by requiring him to con- 
 sent to such a step. In a very grateful letter, my 
 brother informed Salicetti that he should join him in the 
 month of March following. He was then twenty-four 
 years of age. 
 
 Meanwhile the King's fate was decided. This was a 
 great blow to my poor father, who was greatly attached 
 to his Sovereign. American liberalism had had an influ- 
 ence upon him as well as upon all who had served in the 
 American war ; his opinions were fixed, and he was never 
 happier than on the day when the King accepted the Con- 
 stitution. On this point my father's opinions coincided 
 with those of the great majority of the nation ; and while 
 the illusion lasted, that we had or could have a constitu- 
 tional Sovereign, joy and satisfaction predominated. 
 
 When the fate of the King was made known in the 
 provinces, the grief it excited was sincere and profound, 
 for, as a man, Louis XVI. was universally beloved. My 
 father owed much to the King, and much also to Ma- 
 dame Elizabeth. He trembled for his benefactress, and 
 the blow he had already received became mortal when 
 he saw the death of Madame Elizabeth announced in the 
 journals. He had already been partially confined to his 
 chamber; but he now shut himself up entirely, and kept 
 his bed for whole days together. 
 
 We had brought with us from Paris only my father's 
 valet dc cliambrc. My mother was therefore obliged to 
 hire domestics at Toulouse. These servants gossiped to 
 their acquaintances about my father, and the most ridicu- 
 lous stories respecting the cause of his supposed disap- 
 pearance were soon circulated about the town. 
 
 There was a shoemaker, named Couder, who exercised 
 great influence in the Commune. This man, whose name 
 I never utter without gratitude, warned my mother of 
 the reports which were circulated respecting my father. 
 He was to be summoned and interrogated, and in that 
 case he would have been ruined. We had then a repre-
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 57 
 
 sentative of the people who certainly would not have tol- 
 erated my father's answers. 
 
 At that time my brother was with Salicetti. My mother 
 wrote to him, and the next post brought back a letter in 
 Salicetti's own handwriting, containing testimonials in fa- 
 vor of my father, and recommending him to his col- 
 league.* Couder's opinions were those of a stanch and 
 sincere Republican. His merit was therefore the greater 
 in what he did for us, for he was aware of my father's 
 sentiments. (< All I want," said he to my mother, <( is 
 your promise that you will not emigrate. When I see 
 the French going abroad they appear to me like chil- 
 dren abandoning their parents." 
 
 My mother had for two years been suffering from a 
 complaint of the chest. She was recommended to try the 
 waters of Cauterets, and she set off, taking me and my 
 sister with her. My father could not accompany us; 
 indeed, he remained behind almost as a hostage. On 
 our return from Cauterets we found him still very ill. 
 Public affairs maintained a gloomy and threatening 
 aspect. Robespierre had perished; but the revolutionary 
 executions still continued. Terror was not yet sufficiently 
 abated to admit of a free expression of the joy which 
 the intelligence of his death excited in the provinces. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Arrest of Bonaparte — His Conduct in Corsica — Jacobin Club — Bona- 
 parte Disguised as a Sailor — Bonaparte, Junot, and Robespierre 
 the Younger — Friendship Between Bonaparte and Junot — Rivalry 
 of Bonaparte and Salicetti — Examination of Bonaparte's Papers — 
 Erasure of His Name from the List of Generals. 
 
 After our return to Toulouse my mother received let- 
 ters from my brother which much distressed her. 
 They informed her of the arrest of General Bona- 
 parte, and the circumstances which had caused that 
 measure. Albert was very indignant. He thought 
 Salicetti's conduct in that affair was not what it ought 
 to have been to a countryman and an old friend. My 
 
 *A man named Mallarme.
 
 5 S MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUXOT 
 
 mother wrote to Salicetti, expressing the pain she felt 
 on hearing of Bonaparte's arrest. <( Do not, w she said, 
 <( let his mother add this new affliction to those with 
 which she is already burdened." 
 
 My brother delivered this letter to Salicetti, and in his 
 mother's name implored a favorable answer. After hav- 
 ing read it, Salicetti said to my brother: 
 
 (< Inform Madame Permon that I am sorry I cannot do 
 what she wishes for General Bonaparte. But you must 
 see yourself that the thing is impossible. The intelli- 
 gence which I have received from Corsica would dictate 
 the step 1 have taken, even if the affairs of Genoa did 
 not render it indispensable. Are you not of my opinion, 
 Permon ? w 
 
 My brother could not answer "Yes," for he was not 
 of Salicetti's opinion. Bonaparte was accused of being a 
 spy, and my brother did not think him guilty. Besides, 
 he thought that, at all events, it did not become Salicetti 
 to accuse him of Jacobinism. He therefore remained 
 silent. 
 
 On the subject of the affairs of Corsica, about which 
 so much was said by Salicetti and Albitte, I have been 
 furnished with some details by an eyewitness competent 
 by his intelligence and information to observe all that 
 was passing. They are as follows: 
 
 In the spring of 1793, Bonaparte, before he went to 
 Toulon, having obtained leave of absence, visited Corsica. 
 At Ajaccio he lodged near the seaport in the house of 
 an old lady, the Comtesse Rossi, a friend of his family. 
 A club was formed in a barrack situated without the city, 
 in what is called the Sea-square. In this club several 
 orators distinguished themselves, and Napoleon Bonaparte 
 was a frequent speaker. 
 
 Some of the inhabitants at Ajaccio, alarmed at the 
 formidable aspect of this club, established another assem- 
 bly, which was attended by several persons of my 
 acquaintance; among others by a naval officer, whose 
 ship was lying in the roads of Corsica, and who by his 
 talent and courage was very capable of counteracting 
 the measures of the first-mentioned club should they 
 have become dangerous. This assembly was held in a 
 large house on the opposite side of the square. Its 
 object was to maintain tranquillity and prevent disorder.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 59 
 
 The club of which Bonaparte was a member at length 
 became so threatening to the public tranquillity that the 
 moderate assembly resolved to send a deputation to it to 
 point out the mischief it was likely to occasion to the 
 country. They advised the club to be peaceable — above 
 all, to wait for the decision of France, and to follow the 
 movement of the Republican Government. 
 
 Bonaparte immediately mounted the tribune, and 
 delivered a vehement speech, the object of which was to 
 show that in times of revolution people must be either 
 friends or enemies, that Solon punished with death every 
 man who remained neutral in civil discord, and that the 
 moderates ought, therefore, to be considered enemies by 
 true patriots. When the sitting was at an end Napoleon 
 went out into the square. He was very much heated, 
 and seemed but little disposed to anything conciliating. 
 However, his violence did not intimidate my friend who 
 was at the head of the deputation. He reproached him 
 for what he had said in the tribune. 
 
 "Bah," said Bonaparte, w a mere club speech, nothing 
 else. But, my friend, do you not see the necessity of 
 firmness, and of choosing a wide road instead of a nar- 
 row path ? w 
 
 << You, )> replied the naval officer, <( will perhaps lose 
 yourself in the road you have chosen; and in the name 
 of friendship I conjure you to alter your course. w Bona- 
 parte frowned, turned on his heel, and went off to join 
 some of his turbulent colleagues. 
 
 Some days afterward my friend learned from some of 
 his correspondents in the interior of the island that four 
 thousand peasants intended to make a descent from the 
 mountains, and that their hostility would be especially 
 directed against the families of Salicetti and Bonaparte. 
 My friend warned Bonaparte of the danger. Napoleon 
 wished to know whence he had obtained the informa- 
 tion He was exceedingly angry because my friend 
 would not tell him. At length he said, <( No matter, I 
 fear no one. n 
 
 He parted from him very coolly. Early next morning 
 a man came to inform him that he had just seen Bona- 
 parte in the disguise of a sailor stepping into a felucca 
 for the purpose of proceeding to Calvi. My friend went 
 out to ascertain the truth of this statement, which was
 
 60 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 corroborated by the sailors of the port. On inquiring 
 what had become of the Bonaparte family, he was in- 
 formed they had taken refuge at Cargesa. 
 
 At the time when these circumstances occurred, Bona- 
 parte had just received his commission of captain of ar- 
 tillery. Shortly after he was sent to Toulon to com- 
 mand the works of the siege. About this period of his 
 life Bonaparte was very intimate with Robespierre the 
 younger, with whom Junot was also well acquainted. 
 Young Robespierre was what might be called an agree- 
 able young man, animated by no bad sentiments, and 
 believing, or feigning to believe, that his brother was 
 led on by a parcel of wretches, every one of whom he 
 would banish to Cayenne if he were in his place. 
 
 On his arrival at Toulon, Bonaparte had the reputa- 
 tion of being a warm patriot. Junot has frequently told 
 me that the general-in-chief, who was very moderate, at 
 first entertained a sort of prejudice against the young 
 officer, whose opinions he seemed to regard as much too 
 violent. 
 
 The mission given to Bonaparte by the representative 
 Ricord, on the 25th Messidor, year ii., was rather diplo- 
 matic than military. In short, it was an order for su- 
 pervision and inquisition. He was especially instructed 
 to keep a watchful eye upon the French Minister and 
 CJiarge' d'affaires at Genoa. It is therefore evident that 
 he enjoyed the full confidence of the Proconsuls, who 
 then had the control of everything, and this confidence 
 could only have resulted from the knowledge of his 
 opinions and sentiments. Bonaparte was then only five- 
 and-twenty years of age. Ricord must therefore have 
 been very confident of his abilities. 
 
 Salicetti succeeded Ricord, and it was naturally to be 
 expected that Bonaparte would enjoy the protection of 
 the new representative. They were countrymen, and 
 even friends, in spite of the difference of their age; and 
 though Salicetti came in immediately after a reaction, it 
 is very certain that he entertained what was called 
 terrorist opinions. 
 
 When Bonaparte was arrested, Junot, who loved him 
 affectionately, determined to save him either by artifice 
 or force. The punishments of the Reign of Terror were 
 not yet at an end, and an individual who was the object
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 61 
 
 of any accusation whatever was in great danger. Bona- 
 parte, however, forbade Junot to resort to any violence. 
 (( I am innocent, n said he, <( and I will trust to the laws." 
 The following is a letter which Bonaparte wrote from his 
 prison to Junot: 
 
 « I see a strong proof of your friendship, my dear Junot, in the 
 proposition you make to me, and I trust you feel convinced that the 
 friendly sentiments that I have long entertained for you remain un- 
 abated. Men may be unjust toward me, my dear Junot, but it is 
 enough for me to know that I am innocent. My conscience is the tri- 
 bunal before which I try my conduct. That conscience is calm when 
 I question it. Do not, therefore, stir in this business. You will only 
 compromise me. Adieu, my dear Junot. Yours, 
 
 « Bonaparte. w 
 
 This letter was an answer to one which Junot had sent 
 him by a soldier, within the first twenty-four hours after 
 his arrest, when he was not permitted to see him. I do not 
 know why Junot was refused admittance to him, but I 
 think it was because orders had been given to keep Bona- 
 parte in solitary confinement. Junot, in his letter, pro- 
 posed to aid him in effecting his escape, and suggested 
 some plans which could only have entered the head of an 
 enthusiastic young man like himself.* He declared his 
 determination to share his imprisonment, even if it were 
 doomed to be eternal. 
 
 One motive, I do not mean to say the only one, of the 
 animosity shown by Salicetti to Bonaparte, in the affair 
 of Loano, was, that they were at one time suitors to the 
 same lady. I am not sure whether it was in Corsica or 
 in Paris, but I know for a fact that Bonaparte, in spite 
 of his youth, or perhaps I should rather say on account of 
 his youth, was the favored lover. 
 
 It was the opinion of my brother, who, as I have 
 already mentioned, was secretary to Salicetti, that Bona- 
 part owed his life to a circumstance which is not very 
 well known. The fact is that Salicetti received a letter 
 from Bonaparte, the contents of which appeared to make 
 a deep impression on him. Bonaparte's papers had been 
 delivered into Salicetti's hands, who, after an attentive 
 perusal of them, laid them aside with evident dissatisfac- 
 tion. He then took them up again, and read them a 
 
 * Madame Mere, the mother of Bonaparte, always entertained a 
 grateful recollection of Junot's conduct at this period.
 
 62 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 second time. Salicetti declined my brother's assistance 
 in the examination of the papers, and after a second 
 examination, which was probably as unsatisfactory as the 
 first, he seated himself with a very abstracted air. It 
 would appear that he had seen among the papers some 
 document which concerned himself. 
 
 Another curious fact is, that the man who had the care 
 of the papers after they were sealed up was an inferior 
 clerk entirely under the control of Salicetti; and my 
 brother, whose business it was to have charge of the 
 papers, was directed not to touch them. He has often 
 spoken to me of this circumstance, and I mention it here 
 as one of importance to the history of the time. Nothing 
 that relates to a man like Napoleon can be considered 
 useless or trivial. 
 
 "What, after all, was the result of this strange business 
 which might have cost Bonaparte his head? — for, had he 
 been taken to Paris and tried by the Committee of Public 
 Safety, there is little doubt that the friend of Robespierre 
 the younger would have been condemned by Billaud- 
 Varennes and Collot d'Herbois. The result was the 
 acquittal of the accused. This result is the more extraor- 
 dinary, since it would appear that at that time Salicetti 
 stood in fear of the young General. 
 
 A compliment is even paid to Bonaparte in the decree 
 by which he was provisionally restored to liberty. That 
 liberation was said to be granted on the consideration 
 that General Bonaparte might be useful to the Republic. 
 This was foresight; but subsequently, when measures were 
 taken which rendered Bonaparte no longer an object of 
 fear, his name was erased from the list of general officers, 
 and it is a curious fact that Cambaceres, who was destined 
 to be his colleague in the Consulate, was one of the per- 
 sons who signed the act of erasure. 
 
 Bonaparte, who was then very unfortunately situated, 
 came to Paris to obtain justice, or to endeavor to put 
 into execution some of the thousand projects which, as 
 he used to tell us, he formed every night when he lay 
 down to rest. He had with him only one aid-de-camp 
 — one friend, whom his adverse fortune attached the more 
 strongly to him. This was Junot, who from that moment 
 gave him abundant proofs of the sincere friendship which 
 never terminated but with his life.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 63 
 
 Duroc was not connected with Bonaparte until the lat- 
 ter took the command of the Army of Italy. It has been 
 frequently asserted that they were acquainted at Toulon, 
 but this is a mistake. Bourrienne, who is well instructed 
 in all these details, relates these facts in their true light. 
 Salicetti and Bonaparte were not good friends, for the 
 former feared his young compatriot, and they were never 
 in each other's confidence. 
 
 The opinion of Bonaparte, after he became Consul, 
 respecting the men of the Revolution, is well known. 
 He employed in the earlier offices statesmen who had 
 taken part in the Revolution ; but, with the exception of 
 Fouche, whom he never liked,* these were not the indi- 
 viduals who made the most distinguished figure in the 
 revolutionary history. It may be remembered that on 
 the occasion of the Infernal Machine, he made a furious 
 attack, in the Council of State, on those whom he de- 
 nominated the men of blood — the men of September. 
 <( France, w said he, (< will never be happy until they are 
 driven away. It is they who do all the mischief! ft 
 
 * <( Fouche never was my confidant, w said Napoleon. <( Never did 
 he approach me without bending to the ground. For him I never 
 had esteem. As a man who had been a Terrorist and a chief of 
 Jacobins, I employed him as an instrument to discover and get rid 
 of the Jacobins, Septembrists, and others of his old friends. By 
 means of him I was enabled to send into banishment to the Isle of 
 France two hundred of his old associate Septembrists, who disturbed 
 the tranquillity of France. He betrayed and sacrificed his old 
 camarades and participators in crime. He never was in a situation 
 to demand my confidence, or even to speak to me without being 
 questioned, nor had he the talents requisite for it." — « Napoleon at 
 St. Helena, w by O'Meara: London, Bentley, edition of 1888, vol. 
 ii. pp. 191, 192.
 
 64 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 M. Brunetiere — Curious Mode of Correspondence — My Mother's 
 Visit to Paris — The Hotel de la Tranquillite — Bonaparte's Visit 
 to Us — Paris after the 9th Thermidor — Bonaparte and the Mus- 
 cadins — Scarcity of Bread — The Sections Declaiming against the 
 Convention — Politics Banished from Conversation — Salicetti's 
 Boots. 
 
 MY father had an old friend, an advocate, named 
 Brunetiere, who maintained communications with 
 the powerful men of the day, and who informed 
 him of all that was going on in Paris — at least, as far 
 as he could do so with safety. We were not then in the 
 height of the Reign of Terror; but there was reason to 
 fear that the revolutionary flame might be rekindled, and 
 caution was advisable. It was no unusual thing to send 
 letters concealed in pies, and in this manner questions 
 and answers traveled under the protection of gastro- 
 nomic dainties. News was frequently sent from Paris to 
 the country in the lining of a coat, the crown of a hat, 
 or a box of artificial flowers. It was customary to send 
 with these packets a letter, saying, C( In compliance with 
 your request, I send you such or such a thing. }> 
 
 My mother was sometimes very reluctant to pull to 
 pieces the beautiful articles of millinery which came 
 from Paris in this way. I recollect she once wore a hat 
 in which a letter was concealed a whole fortnight, with- 
 out telling my father where it came from, because she 
 knew he would have had it pulled to pieces without 
 mercy. It was to be sure at a moment when no very 
 interesting news was likely to be communicated! 
 
 At length affairs assumed a more serene aspect, and 
 my father received repeated invitations to proceed to 
 Paris. My mother, finding that she could not prevail on 
 him to go, determined herself to set out for Paris, and 
 take me with her; and it was agreed that my father 
 should repair to Bordeaux, where he had some business 
 to settle, and remain there during my mother's absence. 
 On her arrival in the capital, my mother was to ascer- 
 tain whether it would be safe for my father to join her, 
 and to determine on his future plans.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 65 
 
 On our arrival in Paris, we alighted at the Hotel de la 
 Tranquiilite, in the Rue des Filles Saint Thomas. We 
 were lodged in a very good suite of apartments on the 
 second floor, overlooking a garden. My mother had only 
 two servants with her — a femtne de chambre and a valet. 
 My brother had returned to Paris in company with 
 Salicetti, but he was no longer in his employment; he 
 had given up the situation of secretary two months 
 before. His intention was to go to Holland, and to 
 enter into trade. A day or two after our arrival, my 
 mother received visits from some of her friends who had 
 escaped the terrorist proscription, and who felt as if they 
 were restored to a new life. Among the number was M. 
 de Perigord, who owed his miraculous preservation to 
 his valet de chambre, Beaulieu. 
 
 Before the revolution my mother had been acquainted 
 with many Corsicans; though their opinions did not 
 coincide with her own, they nevertheless were frequent 
 visitors at her house. As soon as they knew she had 
 returned, they all flocked to see her. Among them were 
 Moltedo, the Abbe Arrighi, Ar6na, Malicetti, Chiappe, 
 and, above all, Bonaparte. My brother Albert had 
 informed him of my mother's arrival, and he came im- 
 mediately to see us. 
 
 I may say that it was then I first knew Bonaparte. 
 Previously I had only a confused recollection of him. 
 When he came to see us after our return to Paris, his 
 appearance made an impression upon me which I shall 
 never forget. At that period of his life Bonaparte was 
 decidedly ugly; he afterward underwent a total change. 
 I do not speak of the illusive charm which his glory 
 spread around him, but I mean to say that a gradual 
 physical change took place in him in the space of seven 
 years. His emaciated thinness was converted into a 
 fullness of face, and his complexion, which had been 
 yellow and apparently unhealthy, became clear and com- 
 paratively fresh; his features, which were angular and 
 sharp, became round and filled out. As to his smile, it 
 was always agreeable. 
 
 The mode of dressing his hair, which has such a droll 
 
 appearance as we see it in the prints of the passage of 
 
 the bridge of Areola, was then comparatively simple; 
 
 for young men of fashion (the muscadins), whom he used 
 
 5
 
 66 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUXOT 
 
 to rail at so loudly at that time, wore their hair very 
 long. But he was very careless of his personal appear- 
 ance; and his hair, which was ill-combed and ill-powdered, 
 give him the look of a sloven. His small hands, too, 
 underwent a great metamorphosis: when I first saw him 
 they were thin, long, and dark; but he was subsequently 
 vain of their beauty, and with good reason. 
 
 In short, when I recollect Napoleon entering the court- 
 vard of the Hotel de la Tranquillite in 1793, with a shabby, 
 round hat drawn over his forehead, and his ill-powdered 
 hair hanging over the collar of his gray greatcoat, which 
 afterward became as celebrated as the white plume of 
 Henry IV., without gloves, because he used to say they 
 were a useless luxury, with boots ill-made and ill-blacked, 
 with his thinness and his sallow complexion ; in fine, 
 when I recollect him at that time, and think what he 
 was afterward, I do not see the same man in the twc 
 pictures. 
 
 My mother, who was the best-hearted and most unaf- 
 fected of women, frankly expressed all the pleasure she 
 felt at seeing him again. She spoke to him of Salicetti, 
 whom, she said, she had blamed for his treatment of 
 him. A smile passed rapidly over the lips of Bonaparte. 
 
 (( He wished, w said he, "to ruin me, but my star pre- 
 vented him. However, I must not boast of my star, for 
 who knows what may be my fate ? " 
 
 I never shall forget the expression of his countenance 
 as he uttered these last words. My mother endeavored 
 to soothe him, and she succeeded better than I could 
 have imagined. I confess that I was much surprised 
 when I saw Salicetti and Bonaparte come next day to 
 dine with us, to all appearance very good friends. 
 
 At this period Paris was in a most disturbed state. 
 Immediately after the 9th Thermidor the members of the 
 Committee of Public Safety were accused. It was, I 
 think, Legendre who attacked Collot-d'Herbois, Billaud- 
 Varennes, Barrere, Amar-Vouland, and David. This at- 
 tack took place about the 10th Fructidor. Carrier was 
 also brought to the Convention, but it was to be con- 
 demned. He perished on the 26th Frimaire following, 
 and it must be confessed that his last moments were cer- 
 tainly marked by courage. It is true that courage may 
 be an attendant on crime as well as on virtue.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 67 
 
 It was in the midst of these circumstances that we 
 arrived in Paris. On the day of our arrival M. Brune- 
 tiere told us he was very sorry that he had advised us 
 to come. Bonaparte confirmed his apprehension. He 
 had just then received a letter from his mother, in which 
 she observed that the reaction would probably deluge 
 the south of France in blood. 
 
 <( It is those Royalist coxcombs, M said Napoleon, (< who 
 are making all this uproar. They would be very glad 
 to glean after the battle of the patriots. What fools 
 there are in that Convention! I am very glad to see 
 that Permon has not adopted the ridiculous fashion of 
 these young men. They are all worthless Frenchmen. 8 
 
 Those to whom Bonaparte alluded wore gray great- 
 coats with black collars and green cravats. Their hair, 
 instead of being a la Titus, which was the prevailing 
 fashion of the day, was powdered, plaited, and turned 
 up with a comb, while on each side of the face hung 
 two long curls called dogs' ears {preilles de chieri). As 
 these young men were very frequently attacked, they 
 carried about with them large sticks, which were not 
 always merely weapons of defense; for the frays which 
 arose in Paris at that time were often provoked by them. 
 
 The scarcity of bread and the necessaries of life now be- 
 gan to be sensibly felt. My sister secretly sent us flour 
 from the south. In so doing she was obliged to resort 
 to various subterfuges, for a serious punishment would 
 have been the result of the discovery. The people who 
 had endured misery under Robespierre, because Robes- 
 pierre flattered them, now openly threatened to rebel. 
 Every day the bar of the Convention was invaded by 
 the Sections of Paris, and crowds of people traversed the 
 streets exclaiming, <( Bread, bread ! We, at least, had bread 
 in 1793! Down with the Republic! w 
 
 One day Bonaparte came to dine with us, and after 
 dinner we took a walk out in the direction of the Tuileries. 
 Bonaparte offered my mother his arm, and I walked with 
 my brother. After we had crossed the Passage Feydeau 
 and reached the Boulevard, we heard horrid vociferations 
 against the Convention. 
 
 "Madame Permon," said Napoleon, (< let me advise 
 you not to go any farther. These are not scenes for women 
 to witness. Let me conduct you home, and I will come
 
 68 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUKOT 
 
 and gather what news I can, and return to inform you 
 of what I hear." 
 
 We immediately returned home, and Bonaparte and 
 Albert afterward went out. Neither of them returned 
 that night. They informed us that they had found it 
 impossible to get back, and, besides, they had been to 
 the Convention. 
 
 <c There they were," said Bonaparte, "roaring for the 
 Constitution of 1793: they were like so many madmen." 
 
 "And you, Napoleon, " said my mother, "what is your 
 opinion of it ? I think the Constitution of 1793 is a 
 good one." 
 
 Bonaparte was off his guard, and replied: 
 
 (< "Why, it is good in one sense, to be sure ; but all that 
 is connected with carnage is bad." 
 
 Perceiving that my mother smiled, he recollected him- 
 self, and said: "Ah, Signora Panoria ! Signora Panoria / 
 quesfe malissimo! conic! mi volete prendere per soprcsa f"* 
 Then he added with a smile : <( Oh no ! the Constitution 
 of '93; I do not like it." 
 
 That same day Salicetti came to see us. He appeared 
 out of humor, was abstracted, and frequently did not 
 answer to the point when he was spoken to. When he 
 was in this sort of humor and conversing with Bonaparte, 
 the discussion was sure to take an angry tone, so that 
 my mother always tried to turn the conversation from 
 politics. 
 
 A few evenings before the first of Prairial f my mother 
 had a small party. She told the gentlemen whom she 
 invited that she would have no politics introduced. 
 
 <( Is it not enough," said she, <( to be roused out of 
 one's sleep of a night by your tocsins and your drums, 
 to say nothing of the harmonious choruses of your 
 market women? Promise me that you will not speak of 
 politics." The promise was given; but the difficulty was 
 to keep it. What was to be talked about? All subjects 
 of conversation were annihilated. The theaters produced 
 nothing, and literature was dead. 
 
 Bonaparte for a long time endeavored to maintain the 
 conversation; but what could he do? Even M. de Nar- 
 
 * «Ah, Madame Panoria! that is very mischievous of you. How? 
 You wish to take me by surprise, do you? w 
 f The 1 8th of May, 1795.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 69 
 
 bonne or M. de Talleyrand must have failed. At length 
 it was proposed to tell stories: Bonaparte liked this way 
 of passing an evening, and he began to relate a number 
 of anecdotes which were interesting in themselves, but 
 which were rendered doubly so by his original manner 
 of telling them. He spoke French very badly, frequently 
 committing the greatest mistakes, and his ignorance on 
 certain points of ordinary education was remarkable. Yet 
 in spite of those disadvantages everyone listened to him 
 with delight. 
 
 However, after a time the conversation flagged, and an 
 inclination to touch upon the forbidden subject soon 
 predominated. I recollect that at that moment Salicetti, 
 who was in none of the best of humors, was walking 
 about the drawing-room, while the creaking of his boots 
 made that monotonous and irritating noise which always 
 annoyed my mother, but which was now quite intolerable 
 to her, for she was vexed by the dullness of the com- 
 pany. 
 
 8 Salicetti, M said she, (< can you not be at ease yourself 
 and permit others to be so ? n 
 
 Salicetti, whose thoughts were at that moment wan- 
 dering in a world far removed from my mother's tea-table 
 circle, gravely turned round, and, bowing with an air of 
 constrained politeness, said : 
 
 <( No more, I thank you, I have taken two cups, and I 
 already feel the effect on my nerves. w He then resumed 
 his pacing backward and forward, while his odious boots 
 creaked more loudly than ever. 
 
 Patience was never my mother's prevailing virtue. She 
 hastily rose from her seat, and advanced toward Salicetti 
 with that light step which was so peculiarly her own. 
 Seizing his stout arm with her little hand, she turned 
 him completely round, and he stood not a little astonished 
 at his own pirouette. 
 
 <( Salicetti, B said she, (< I like to be heard when I 
 speak, and when I make a request I wish it to be 
 complied with. This is somewhat despotic, perhaps, but 
 I cannot help it. I am too old to accommodate myself 
 to your new-fashioned customs, and what is more, I will 
 not. We women are all queens without kingdoms. We are 
 dethroned; I feel this to my cost; but still, I trust, I retain 
 a little power in my own house. Here, at least, I am a
 
 7 o MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 sovereign, and my subjects must obey me. Do you mean 
 to rebel against my authority ? w 
 
 " Xo, w exclaimed Salicetti, delighted at the graceful 
 manner in which my mother had rebuked him, and seiz- 
 ing her two little hands, which he kissed alternately, 
 said, (< I rebel against your authority ! Certainly not. 
 What have I done that could lead you to suppose so ? w 
 His answer was repeated to him, and it turned out as 
 the company had already guessed, that he thought my 
 mother was offering him another cup of tea. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 New Troubles in Paris — Bonaparte's Poverty — His Servant and My 
 Mother's Femme de Chambre — The Jardin des Plantes — Mutual 
 Confidence — Junot in Love with Paulette Bonaparte — Napoleon's 
 Characteristic Reply — Revolutionary Scenes. 
 
 My mother proposed to make a visit to Gascony to 
 settle some business, and afterward to return to 
 Paris with my father, the state of whose health 
 made her uneasy. She wished to bring him within reach 
 of the best medical assistance ; but how was she to re- 
 turn to Paris at a moment when the Revolution, suffer- 
 ing from the crimes committed in its name, could offer 
 no guarantee or security to anyone? 
 
 The Convention, which at that time included many pure 
 and honest Republicans, beheld its power braved and dis- 
 avowed; everything seemed to be returning to that un- 
 happy state, the bare remembrance of which excited horror. 
 In spite of this, balls were resumed, and the theaters were 
 filled every evening. It may truly be said of the French 
 that they meet death singing and dancing. Balls, theaters, 
 and concerts were nightly crowded, while famine was star- 
 ing us in the face, and we were threatened with all the 
 horrors of anarchy. 
 
 Bonaparte came daily to visit my mother, and he fre- 
 quently entered into warm political discussions with per- 
 sons whom he met at her residence. These discussions 
 almost always led to violent language, which displeased my
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 71 
 
 mother. But Bonaparte was unfortunate ; she knew it, and 
 that consideration rendered her indulgent to him. 
 
 My mother told me one day that she had learned some 
 particulars respecting General Bonaparte which much dis- 
 tressed her, the more especially as she could do nothing 
 to assist him. These particulars had been communicated 
 to her by Mariette, her femme de chambre. 
 
 Mariette was a very pretty and good girl ; Bonaparte's 
 servant admired her and wished to marry her. She, how- 
 ever, did not like him; and as he was, moreover, poor, 
 she declined his offer. I give these details because they 
 are connected with an affair which I shall presently have 
 to allude to. Bonaparte's servant informed Mariette that 
 the General was often in want of money. 
 
 "But," added he, (( he has an aid-de-camp who shares 
 with him all he gets. When he is lucky at play, the 
 largest share of his winnings is always for his General. 
 The aid-de-camp's family sometimes sends him money, 
 and then almost all is given to the General. The Gen- 
 eral, w added the man, <( loves this aid-de-camp as dearly 
 as if he were his own brother. w This aid-de-camp was 
 no other than Junot, who was destined at a later period 
 to be my husband! 
 
 On Bonaparte's return to Paris, after the misfortunes 
 of which he accused Salicetti of being the cause, he was 
 in very destitute circumstances. His family, who were 
 banished from Corsica, found an asylum at Marseilles; 
 and they could not now do for him what they would 
 have done had they been in the country whence they 
 derived their pecuniary resources. From time to time 
 he received remittances of money, and I suspect they 
 came from his excellent brother Joseph, who had then 
 recently married Mademoiselle Clary; but with all his 
 economy, these supplies were insufficient. Bonaparte was 
 therefore in absolute distress. 
 
 Junot often used to speak of the six months they passed 
 together in Paris at this time. When they took an even- 
 ing stroll on the Boulevard, which used to be the resort 
 of young men, mounted on fine horses, and displaying 
 all the luxury which they were permitted to show at 
 that time, Bonaparte would declaim against fate, and 
 express his contempt for the dandies with their whiskers 
 and their oreilles de c/iien, who, as they rode past, were
 
 72 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 eulogizing in ecstasy the manner in which Madame Scio 
 sang- paolc pafume'c, paolc panachc'c* 
 
 <( And it is on such beings as these," he would say, 
 "that Fortune confers her favors. Heavens! how con- 
 temptible is human nature ! w 
 
 Junot, whose friendship for Bonaparte was of that ar- 
 dent kind which is formed only in youth, shared with 
 him all that he received from his family, who, though 
 not rich, were in easy circumstances. He used some- 
 times to resort to the gaming table, but before he did 
 so he invariably deposited in the hands of Bonaparte 
 three-quarters of the allowance he had received from 
 Burgundy: the other quarter was allotted to the chances 
 of vingt-et-un. Junot was often successful at play: on 
 those occasions the two friends used to make merry, and 
 pay off their most pressing debts. 
 
 One morning Bonaparte and Junot were walking 
 together in the Jardin des Plantes.f Bonaparte was 
 always fond of these solitary promenades: they rendered 
 him communicative and confiding, and he seemed to 
 feel himself nearer to the presence of the Deity, of 
 whom he used to say a faithful friend is the true 
 
 IMAGE. I 
 
 About this time the Jardin des Plantes had been 
 greatly improved by the exertions of a man whom France 
 ought to remember with -gratitude. The Jardin des 
 Plantes, which had originally been confined exclusively 
 to the cultivation of medical plants, became, under the 
 superintendence of M. Tournefort, a nursery for all 
 branches of botany. 
 
 <( There, * Junot used to say, (< we not only inhaled pure 
 air, but it seemed, as soon as we passed the gate, that 
 we left a heavy burden behind us. All around us pre- 
 sented the aspect of peace and kindliness. The evening 
 was generally the time for our visits to M. D'Aubenton. 
 
 * This affected mode of dropping the r was common among the 
 dandies of that time, or, as they used to be called, the incroyables. 
 
 f Junot's uncle, the Bishop of Metz, a distinguished naturalist, was 
 the intimate friend of D'Aubenton and Buffon. Junot, therefore, was 
 always kindly received by the former, and often visited the Jardin des 
 Plantes accompanied by the General. 
 
 % I give this phrase literally; I have often heard it repeated by Bona- 
 parte.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 73 
 
 We used to find him like a patriarch surrounded by 
 his laborers, whose planting and digging he was 
 superintending. He was actively assisted by the broth- 
 ers Thouin, whose zeal for the science of botany induced 
 them to work in the plantations like common garden- 
 ers. w 
 
 The elder of these two brothers was a man of rare 
 acquirements; and Bonaparte used to be fond of walk- 
 ing with him round the extensive hothouses, which 
 were already beginning to be filled with rare plants, 
 and which subsequently, under his auspices, became the 
 finest temple ever raised to Nature in the midst of a 
 city. 
 
 On one of Bonaparte's visits to the Jardin des Plantes, 
 after he had lingered longer than usual in conversation 
 with the brothers Thouin, he strolled with Junot into 
 some of the shady avenues of the garden. It was a 
 delicious evening, and a thousand rose trees in full bloom 
 scattered perfume through the air. 
 
 The two friends walked together arm-in-arm, and in 
 confidential conversation: they were then in closer com- 
 munion with each other than they ever were afterward 
 in a gilded cabinet. A lovely night has always a pow- 
 erful influence on minds susceptible of ardent feeling. 
 Bonaparte was afterward governed by an overpowering 
 passion, which subjugated every other within him, and 
 reigned paramount: I need not name it. But at this 
 period he was very young, and his heart beat warmly, 
 for he loved. 
 
 He made Junot his confidant, and spoke on the sub- 
 ject with much acerbity, for his love was not returned. 
 Junot has often told me that if Bonaparte had not him- 
 self torn asunder the fetters which then bound him, the 
 consequences of his passion might have been terrible. 
 On this occasion his voice trembled while he expressed 
 his feelings, and Junot was deeply affected by his emo- 
 tion. But it was even then plain that there was within 
 him an extraordinary force which struggled against his 
 weakness. He broke off the conversation himself, and 
 appeared to have forgotten the cause of his agitation. 
 
 Confidence creates confidence. Junot had also a heart 
 full of feelings which required to be disclosed to a friend, 
 and the ear of Bonaparte had often heard his story.
 
 74 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 Junot loved to infatuation Paulette Bonaparte. His 
 youthful warmth of feeling could not withstand so charm- 
 ing a creature as Paulette then was. His passion was a 
 delirium; but his secret was not a week old when it was 
 made known to his General. Honor commanded the 
 disclosure, since his reason had not enabled him to re- 
 sist his passion. 
 
 Bonaparte received his declaration neither with assent 
 nor dissent. He consoled him, however. But what gave 
 Junot more satisfaction than all the words of his friend, 
 was a belief, amounting almost to certainty, that Paulette 
 would say (< Yes w with pleasure, as soon as he should be 
 able to offer her an establishment — not a rich one, as 
 Bonaparte used to remark, but sufficient to be a security 
 against the distressing prospect of bringing into the world 
 children destined to be miserable. 
 
 On the very day of which I have been speaking, Junot 
 emboldened by what Bonaparte had told him in dis- 
 burdening his own heart, was more than ever urgent on 
 the subject of Paulette. He had received a letter from 
 his father which he showed to Bonaparte. In this letter 
 M. Junot informed his son that he had nothing to give 
 at the moment, but that his share of the family property 
 would one day be 20,000 francs. 
 
 <( I shall then he rich," said Junot, <( since with my pay 
 I shall have an income of 1,200 livres. My dear General, 
 I beseech you, write to Madame Bonaparte, and tell her 
 that you have seen my father's letter. Would you wish 
 him to write to Marseilles himself ? B 
 
 On leaving the Jardin des Plantes they crossed the 
 river in a boat, and passed through the streets to the 
 Boulevard. Having arrived in front of the Chinese Baths, 
 they walked about in the opposite alley. While ascend- 
 ing and descending this part of the Boulevard, Bonaparte 
 listened attentively to Junot; but he was no longer the 
 same man as when under the odoriferous shades they 
 had just quitted. It seemed that on returning to the 
 bustle of life, the tumult of society, he resumed all the 
 fetters and obligations imposed by the State. His man- 
 ner was, however, always kind. He only pretended to 
 give advice. 
 
 "I cannot write to my mother to make this proposal," 
 he said, <c for you are to have at last, it seems, 1,200
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 75 
 
 livres of income — and that is very well; but you have 
 not got them yet. Your father wears well, my good fel- 
 low, and will make you wait a long time for your livres. 
 The truth is, you have nothing but your lieutenant's pay ; 
 as to Paulette, she has not so much. So, then, to sum 
 up: you have nothing, she has nothing — what is the 
 total ? Nothing. You cannot, then, marry at present. 
 You must wait. We shall perhaps see better days, my 
 friend — yes! We shall have them, even should I go to 
 seek them in another quarter of the world. w * 
 
 At this period insurrections were things of daily occur- 
 rence. That of the 12th of Germinal, which was almost 
 entirely the work of women, had a peculiar character. 
 In the evening and in the course of the following day 
 we saw several deputies who described the events. Some 
 were quite cast down, and constantly exclaimed, (< France 
 is ruined ! 8 
 
 The account they gave of what had passed was doubt- 
 less alarming. Women had forced their way into the 
 hall in which the representatives of the nation were as- 
 sembled, and had driven them out. (< It was from mere 
 fatigue, B said my brother, (< that the mob retired. B 
 
 <( And what did the Mountain do during the disturb- 
 ance ? M asked my mother. <( It supported the demands 
 of the mob. All that I can further say is, that I was 
 told that the noise made by the female insurgents was so 
 great that nobody could understand what was going on. 
 After their departure the deputies ventured to resume 
 their seats and to proceed to business. B 
 
 Amid our conversation Salicetti was gloomy and 
 silent. He made me, as usual, sit down beside him, 
 and spoke of my sister's marriage, or anything else, 
 without paying attention to what I said. However, he 
 thus kept himself in countenance, and avoided a conver- 
 sation the subject of which was to him too important to 
 allow of his treating it with indifference. 
 
 At the epoch of the first of Prairial there were ele- 
 
 *I have described this conversation fully as Junot related it, be- 
 cause I think the conduct of Bonaparte during the evening in which 
 it occurred was very remarkable. Junot recollected all that passed 
 minutely, and could point out the part of the Boulevard on which 
 they were when Bonaparte spoke those words which later events have 
 rendered so worthy of notice.
 
 76 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 ments in the Convention capable of producing the most 
 terrible effects. The terrorist party sought to save such 
 of its members as were compromised not only in public 
 opinion, but by the fact of being subject to a regular 
 charge of impeachment. The contest was terrible, for it 
 was for life or death. Billaud-Varennes, Collot-d'Herbois, 
 and Barrere, were the men chiefly dreaded. 
 
 From Carnot, Robert Lindet, and others, no evil was 
 to be apprehended, because, though they might perhaps 
 be misled by adopting an erroneous opinion, the public 
 could rely on their honesty. But, good heaven! what a 
 reaction would there have been had the Thermidor party 
 been overthrown! That, however, was the point at issue. 
 The terrorists stirred up the people, who, in a season of 
 scarcity, were easily led astray; and, consequently, we 
 had mobs daily assembled by the cry, <( Vive la Consti- 
 tution de 'gjf * 
 
 Fortunately the seditions were suppressed. During the 
 trials of the terrorists, Carnot was the only one who 
 displayed a noble character; all the others were miser- 
 able creatures; and the whole Convention was almost as 
 contemptible. Had not Andre" Dumont moved and urged 
 with energy the banishment of Barrere, Billaud-Varen- 
 nes, and Collot-d'Herbois, it is not improbable that the 
 whole Convention would have been outlawed. 
 
 The sentence of exile was voted by acclamation, and 
 six deputies were condemned to imprisonment in the 
 castle of Ham.* But such was the infatuation of the 
 Convention, that if two steps were made forward toward 
 a public good, they were sure to be followed by four 
 backward. The deputies ordered to be arrested walked 
 about Paris, and if they had chosen they might have 
 gone to the theater on the night of the 13th, for though 
 condemned they were still at liberty: these were indeed 
 the days of anarchy! 
 
 It was necessary to act decisively; but at a moment 
 when every journeyman perruquicr took the name of 
 Brutus, or Mutius Scaevola, there was not in the whole 
 Convention, notwithstanding the great talents which 
 formerly shone in it, a man whom anyone would have 
 been simple enough to call a Cicero. 
 
 ♦Leonard Bourdon, Hugues, Chales, Faussedoise, Duhem, and 
 Choudien.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 77 
 
 However, Thibaudeau at last arose. In an energetic 
 speech he reminded the Convention of its duty to watch 
 over the public safety. The outlawry of the deputies 
 was decreed. General Pichegru received the necessary 
 orders of the Convention, which were speedily executed. 
 Paris remained tranquil, and three deputies were sent to 
 Rochefort.* 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 The 20th of May — Death of Ferraud — Project of Bombarding the 
 Faubourg Saint Antoine — Salicetti on the List of the Proscribed 
 — He Flies for Refuge to My Mother's Lodgings — His Conceal- 
 ment — Bonaparte's Visit to My Mother — Remarkable Conversation. 
 
 The Convention was no longer popular, because it 
 manifested no readiness to alleviate the sufferings 
 of the people, now rendered intolerable. Aversion 
 had succeeded to the attachment which the public once 
 fondly cherished for the Convention, and this was especially 
 the case in Paris. Meanwhile, the enemies of order took 
 advantage of these elements of mischief and did all in 
 their power to fan the flame. 
 
 On the morning of the 20th of May we were awakened 
 by loud shouts in the streets; the tocsin sounded to arms, 
 and another day of blood was added to the calendar 
 which took its date from 1789! Enough has already been 
 said of that dreadful day. I recollect that terror reigned 
 everywhere. The conspirators had promised a day of 
 pillage to the three faubourgs, and particularly to that 
 of Saint Antoine. The whole population of this last dis- 
 trict was in arms; they were in the extreme of misery. 
 There was greater reason to dread the issue of this day 
 than that of the 14th of July, the 6th of October, or the 
 10th of August. 
 
 It was not a castle or a court to which the animosity 
 
 *Barrere went there with the others, but, as usual, he took care not to 
 make one in a disagreeable party. He contrived to stop at Rochefort 
 and did not embark. The French, who laugh at everything, said this 
 was the first time that Barrere did not follow the stream. A man of 
 wit has said of him that he is one of those characters who are neither 
 esteemed nor hated.
 
 7 8 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 of the people was directed, but everything elevated above 
 the very lowest grade of society was marked out in the 
 list of proscription. This it was that saved France as well 
 as the Convention. All those who had anything to lose 
 united themselves into corps, which were very superior 
 to unorganized masses acting without any plan, and ap- 
 parently without leaders. 
 
 While the most frightful scenes were passing in the 
 Convention, the respectable inhabitants of Paris shut 
 themselves up in their houses, concealed their valuables, 
 and awaited with fearful anxiety the result. 
 
 Toward evening, my brother, whom we had not seen 
 during the whole day, came home to get something to 
 eat; he was almost famished, not having tasted food 
 since the morning. Disorder still raged, and we heard 
 the most frightful noise in the streets, mingled with the 
 beating of drums. The Faubourg Saint Antoine, which 
 had been regularly armed in pursuance of the proposition 
 of Tallien, excited the most serious alarm. 
 
 My brother had scarcely finished his hasty repast, when 
 General Bonaparte arrived to make a similar demand 
 upon our hospitality. He also told us he had tasted 
 nothing since the morning, for all the restaurants were 
 closed. He contented himself with that which my brother 
 had left, and, while eating, he told us the news of the 
 day. It was most appalling! My brother had informed 
 us of but part. He did not know of the assassination of 
 the unfortunate Ferraud, whose body had been cut almost 
 piecemeal. 
 
 "They took his head," said Bonaparte, (< and presented 
 it to poor Boissy-d'Anglas,* and the shock of this fiend- 
 like act was almost death to the President in his chair. 
 Truly, " added he, <( if we continue thus to sully our Revo- 
 lution, it will be a disgrace to be a Frenchman." 
 
 Perhaps the most alarming circumstance was the pro- 
 ject entertained by Barras of bombarding the Faubourg 
 Saint Antoine. <( He is at this moment," said Bona- 
 parte, (< at the end of the Boulevard, and proposes, so he 
 tells me, to throw bombs into the faubourg: I have 
 counseled him by no means to do so. The population 
 of the faubourg would issue forth and disperse through 
 
 * The admirable conduct of Boissy-d'Anglas on that day will always 
 be mentioned in history.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 79 
 
 Paris, committing every excess. It is altogether very sad 
 work. Have you seen Salicetti during the last few 
 days ? ® lie inquired, after a moment's silence ; <( they say 
 he is implicated in the affair of Soubrani and Bour- 
 botte. It is likewise suspected that Rorarae is compro- 
 mised in that business. I shall be very sorry for it. 
 Romme is a worthy man, and I believe a stanch and 
 honest Republican. As to Salicetti ! ® 
 
 Here Bonaparte paused, struck his forehead with his 
 hand, contracted his eyebrows, and his whole frame seemed 
 agitated. In a voice trembling with emotion, he continued, 
 (< Salicetti has injured me greatly. He has thrown a cloud 
 over the bright dawn of my youth — he has blighted my 
 hopes of glory! I say again he has done me much wrong. 
 However, I bear him no ill will.® 
 
 My brother was about to defend Salicetti. 
 
 (< Cease, Permon, cease! ® exclaimed Bonaparte; "that 
 man, I tell you, has been my evil genius. Dumerbion really 
 loved me, and would have employed me suitably ; but that 
 report spread at my return from Genoa, and to which 
 malice lent its venom to make it the foundation of an 
 accusation — that report ought, in reality, to have been a 
 source of honor to me! No! I may forgive, but to forget 
 is another matter. Yet, as I said before, I bear him no 
 ill will.® While speaking thus, Bonaparte appeared ab- 
 stracted. About midnight he departed with my brother. 
 
 The next day we learned that the Convention had or- 
 dered the arrest of several of its members, among whom 
 were Soubrani, Romme, Bourbotte, etc. ; Salicetti's name 
 was not mentioned. 
 
 <( Here are more proscriptions, ® said my mother. <( My 
 dear, w said she to Albert, (( we are no doubt under great 
 obligations to Salicetti for what he has done for your 
 father and you ; but gratitude cannot make me indifferent 
 to the impropriety of receiving a man who is accused of 
 wishing to bring back the days of 1793. Salicetti is not 
 on the lists of the proscribed, therefore I can, with a clear 
 conscience, give him to understand that his visits are not 
 agreeable. His opinions are becoming every day less and 
 less in unison with mine.® 
 
 This was on the 21st of May: my mother expected a 
 party of friends to dinner. She was to leave Paris in a 
 few days for Bordeaux, and in four months was to return
 
 80 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 with my father to Paris. Bonaparte was one of the com- 
 pany invited to dine with us that day. It was six o'clock. 
 One of the guests had arrived, and my mother was sitting 
 in the drawing-room conversing with him, when Mariette 
 came and whispered to her that there was somebody in 
 her chamber, who wished to speak with her alone. The 
 girl added, <( I know who it is, madam — you may come. M 
 
 My mother immediately rose and went to her chamber, 
 and beheld near the window a man, half concealed by the 
 curtain. He made a sign to her with his hand. My 
 mother called me, and, desiring me to shut the door, 
 advanced toward this man, whom, to her astonishment, 
 she discovered to be Salicetti. He was as pale as death ; 
 his lips were as white as his teeth, and his dark eyes 
 appeared to flash fire! He was truly frightful. 
 
 <( I am proscribed, M he said to my mother, in an under- 
 tone and in breathless haste ; <( that is to say, I am con- 
 demned to death. But for Gauthier, whom I just now met 
 on the Boulevard, I was going to that den of brigands, 
 and should have been lost. Madame Permon," he con- 
 tinued, after a pause, during which his eyes were stead- 
 fastly fixed on my mother ; <( Madame Permon, I hope I 
 have not been deceived in relying on your generosity. 
 You will save me. To prevail on you to do so I need 
 not, I am sure, remind you that I saved your son and 
 husband. n 
 
 My mother took Salicetti by the hand and conducted 
 him into the next room, which was my bedchamber. 
 Several persons had now assembled in the drawing-room, 
 and she thought she heard the voice of Bonaparte. She 
 was ready to faint with terror. In my chamber she knew 
 she could not be overheard. 
 
 (< Salicetti, w she said, <( I will not waste time in words. 
 All that I can grant you may command ; but there is one 
 thing more dear to me than life, that is, the safety of my 
 children. By concealing you for a few hours, and this 
 house cannot afford you any longer security, I shall not 
 save you, and I only bring my own head to the scaffold, 
 and probably endanger the lives of my children. I owe 
 you gratitude, but I leave you to yourself to determine 
 whether I ought to carry it thus far. w I never saw my 
 mother look so beautiful as when at this moment she 
 fixed her eyes earnestly on me.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABR ANTICS 81 
 
 <( I am not so selfish, }> replied Salicetti, <( as to ask for 
 anything- which may expose you to such danger. My plan 
 is this, and on it rests my only hope. This house being an 
 hotel, will be the last to be suspected. The woman who 
 keeps it has, I presume, no objection to get money; I will 
 give her plenty : let me remain concealed here only eight 
 days. At the expiration of that time you are to set out 
 for Gascony; you can take me with you, and thus save 
 my life. If you refuse me an asylum, even for a few 
 hours, I shall be dragged to the scaffold, there to forfeit 
 my life, while I saved that of your husband and your 
 son. w 
 
 (< Salicetti, w said my mother, (< this is unkind and un- 
 generous; you know my obligation to you, and you take 
 advantage of it. I ask you again what I can do for you, 
 situated as I am in this public hotel, a house which is 
 filled with strangers, and which is the daily resort of 
 your enemies ; for you know that Bonaparte is your enemy. 
 Besides, the mistress of this house is hostile to your 
 opinions, and I doubt whether any reward could induce 
 her to hazard her life to serve you. In short, we are 
 surrounded by difficulties. w 
 
 At this moment the chamber door opened, and my 
 mother ran toward the person who was about to enter. 
 It was Albert; he came to inquire why dinner was de- 
 layed. <( All the company have arrived, w he said, (< except 
 Bonaparte, and he has sent an apology. B 
 
 My mother clasped her hands, and raised them to 
 heaven: she desired him to go downstairs, and she fol- 
 lowed him. <( I was just reading a letter which I have 
 received from your sister. She has sent me a dinde anx 
 truffes, and if our friends will wait so long for dinner, 
 we will have it cooked for to-day; if not, it will be a 
 reason for another little party. B 
 
 My mother uttered these words as she entered the 
 drawing-room, holding in her hand a letter which she had 
 snatched up in passing through her own chamber. 
 
 Her reason for inventing this long story was that the 
 gentleman whom she left in the drawing-room, when 
 Mariette called her out, was a most notorious gossip, and 
 she took it for granted that he had already told all the 
 company that there was something very mysterious in 
 her disappearance. But her manner was so natural that 
 6
 
 82 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 no one had the least doubt of the arrival of the dindc 
 aux truffcs, which it was unanimously agreed should be 
 cooked next day. My mother then begged leave to re- 
 tire for a few moments to finish her letter. 
 
 She hastened to her chamber, slipped the bolt of her 
 door, and rejoined Salicetti, whom she found seated in a 
 chair with his head leaning on both his hands. (< We 
 may esteem ourselves happy, 8 said she, (( that Bonaparte 
 is not here to scrutinize our words and looks. Now let 
 us settle what is to be done." 
 
 a If you are willing, 8 said Salicetti, " the thing is easy : 
 will you consent to save me? 8 
 
 My mother did not give an immediate reply. Her fre- 
 quent change of color betrayed the violent agitation of 
 her feelings. At length she became so pale that I thought 
 she would have fainted away. Salicetti, who interpreted 
 her silence as a refusal, took up his hat, muttered some 
 words which I did not distinctly hear, and was about 
 to leave the room when my mother caught him by 
 the arm. 
 
 "Stay, 8 she said; "this roof is yours. My son must 
 discharge his debt, and it is my duty to discharge my 
 husband's. 8 
 
 "Enough, enough, 8 said Salicetti, "all will be well. 
 Xow go and join your guests. Mariette will take care of 
 me. I have said but two words to her, yet those two 
 magic words have power to make her lay down her life 
 to serve me. My dear girl, 8 said he tome, drawing me 
 back as I was about to follow my mother, " I have spoken 
 before you because I know you cannot remain in ignorance 
 of this affair. I need not warn you of the consequences 
 of indiscretion. 8 
 
 "Ah! fear nothing, 8 I exclaimed, throwing myself into 
 my mother's arms, whose eyes were fixed upon me with 
 an expression of despair. My dear mother thought only 
 of her children at that moment when her own head was 
 at stake. 
 
 She stayed a minute longer in her chamber to recover 
 herself. Her ardent feelings rendered her agitation ex- 
 treme; but she was gifted with wonderful self-control, 
 and when she entered the drawing-room nobody would 
 have suspected that she had to conceal an important 
 secret from those who surrounded her.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 83 
 
 The dinner was very gay. The company was animated 
 by a feeling of satisfaction at the result of the events of 
 the two preceding days. Brunetiere was of the party, 
 and, though never deficient in cheerfulness, his spirits 
 seemed that day to be doubled. As soon as the company 
 had departed, my mother acquainted Albert with Sali- 
 cetti's concealment. My brother trembled for her and 
 for me; but he saw the necessity of actively adopting 
 some precautions for Salicetti's security. 
 
 After some deliberation it was resolved to adopt Sali- 
 cetti's suggestion and communicate the secret to Madame 
 Gretry, the mistress of the hotel. She readily entered 
 into our views. 
 
 <( I can manage this affair, w said she. <( It is only nec- 
 essary that Madame Permon should change her apart- 
 ment. There is a hiding place in her chamber which 
 saved four people during the Reign of Terror. It shall 
 save more. At least, while I live here." 
 
 All the necessary arrangements were immediately made. 
 We gave out to our friends that my mother had received 
 a letter from my father, in which he mentioned that he 
 was coming to Paris, and that, consequently, my mother 
 was not to set off. Some time after we were to pretend 
 we had received a second letter from my father, request- 
 ing my mother to come to him. It was important to 
 have a reason for everything we did. 
 
 Next morning, about eleven o'clock, we received a visit 
 from General Bonaparte, and, as the scene which then 
 ensued made a greater impression on me than almost 
 any event of my life, I will describe it minutely: Bona- 
 parte was at that time attired in the costume he wore 
 almost ever after. He had on a gray greatcoat, very 
 plainly made, buttoned up to his chin, a round hat, which 
 was either drawn over his forehead so as almost to con- 
 ceal his eyes, or stuck upon the back of his head so that 
 it appeared in danger of falling off, and a black cravat, 
 very clumsily tied. This was Bonaparte's usual dress. 
 
 At that period, indeed, nobody, either man or woman, 
 paid any great attention to elegance of appearance, and 
 I must confess that Bonaparte's costume did not then ap- 
 pear so droll as it now does on recollection. He brought 
 with him a bouquet of violets, which he presented to my 
 mother. This piece of gallantry was so extraordinary on
 
 84 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 his part that we could not help smiling at it. He smiled 
 too, and said : (< I suppose I make but a sorry cavalier e 
 servente.^ 
 
 <( Well, Madame Permon," said he, after some further 
 conversation, <( Salicetti will now in his turn be able to 
 appreciate the bitter fruits of arrest! And to him they 
 ought to be the more bitter, because the trees which bear 
 them were first planted by him and his adherents. • 
 
 "How," exclaimed my mother with an air of astonish- 
 ment, at the same time motioning me to close the draw- 
 ing-room door, <( is Salicetti arrested ? M 
 
 (< What ? do you not know that he has been proscribed 
 since yesterday ? I presumed that you must know the 
 fact, since it was in your house that he was con- 
 cealed. 8 
 
 (< Concealed in my house ! " cried my mother ; (< surely, 
 my dear Napoleon, you are mad! Methinks, before I 
 entered into such a scheme it would be as well to have 
 a place I could call my house. I beseech you, General, 
 do not repeat such a joke in any other place. I assure 
 you it would be endangering my life." 
 
 Bonaparte rose from his seat, advanced slowly toward 
 my mother, and, crossing his arms, fixed his eyes on her 
 for some time in silence. My mother did not flinch 
 beneath his eagle glance. 
 
 (< Madame Permon," he said, "Salicetti is concealed in 
 your house ; nay, do not interrupt me ; I know that yes- 
 terday, at five o'clock, he was seen on the Boulevard, 
 speaking with Gauthier, who advised him not to go to 
 the Convention. He then proceeded in this direction; 
 and it is very well known that he has not in this neigh- 
 borhood any acquaintance, you excepted, who would risk 
 their own safety, as well as that of their friends, by 
 secreting him. Now, he has not been at the Palais 
 Egalit6; he therefore must have fled to you for an asy- 
 lum. » 
 
 (< And by what right," replied my mother, with un- 
 shaken firmness, <( should Salicetti seek an asylum here ? 
 He is well aware that our political sentiments are at 
 variance; he knew, too, that I was on the point of leav- 
 ing Paris; for had I not received a letter from my hus- 
 band I should have been on the road to Gascony to-morrow 
 morning. w
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 85 
 
 (< My dear Madame Permon, you may well ask by what 
 right he should apply to you for concealment. To come 
 to a lone woman, who might be compromised for afford- 
 ing some few hours of safety to an outlaw who merits 
 his fate, is an act to which no consideration ought to 
 have driven him. You owe him gratitude: that is a bill 
 of exchange you are bound to honor; and he has come 
 in person to demand payment. Has he not, Mademoi- 
 selle Loulou ? 8 As he pronounced these words he turned 
 sharply round toward me. 
 
 I was sitting at the window at work, and at the mo- 
 ment he spoke I pretended to be looking at one of the 
 pots of flowers which were before me. My mother, who 
 understood my meaning, said: (< Laurette, General Bona- 
 parte speaks to you, my dear! w 
 
 Thus challenged, I looked up, and my embarrassment 
 might naturally have been attributed to my consciousness 
 of having been unintentionally rude : so I hoped at least ; 
 but we had to deal with one who was not to be imposed 
 upon. Bonaparte took my hand, and, pressing it between 
 both his own, said to my mother, <( I ask your pardon, 
 madame, I have done wrong: your daughter has taught 
 me a lesson. B 
 
 w You give her credit for what she does not deserve, B 
 replied my mother; <( she has taught you no lesson, but 
 I will teach you one by and by, if you persist in an as- 
 sertion for which there is no foundation, and which, if 
 repeated abroad, would entail very serious consequences 
 to me," 
 
 In a tone of considerable emotion Bonaparte replied : 
 
 (< Madame Permon, you are an excellent woman, and 
 Salicetti is a villain; you could not close your doors 
 against him, he was well aware; and he would cause 
 you to compromise your own safety and that of your 
 child! I never liked him, now I despise him; he has 
 done me mischief enough; but for that he has had his 
 motives, and you have known them. Is it not so ? w 
 
 My mother shook her head. 
 
 (< What ! has Permon never told you ? w 
 
 (< Never. w 
 
 "Well, that is astonishing! But you shall know some 
 day or other. Salicetti, in that affair of Loano, behaved 
 like a wretch. Junot would have killed him if I had
 
 86 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 not prevented him. That spirited youth, animated by 
 friendship for me, wanted to challenge him, and swore 
 he would throw him out of the window if he refused to 
 meet him. Now Salicetti is proscribed, and in his turn 
 will have to experience all the misery attendant on a 
 broken fortune ! >} 
 
 <( Napoleon, w said my mother, taking him by the hand, 
 and fixing upon him a look of kindness, <( I assure you 
 on my honor that Salicetti is not in my apartments; but 
 stay — shall I tell you all ? w 
 
 (< Tell me ! tell me ! w exclaimed Napoleon, with a vehe- 
 mence uncommon to him. 
 
 <( Well, then, Salicetti was under my roof yesterday at 
 six o'clock, but he left in a few hours after. I pointed 
 out to him the moral impossibility of his remaining with 
 me, living as I do in a hotel. Salicetti admitted the 
 justness of my objection, and took his departure. * 
 
 While my mother was speaking, Bonaparte kept his 
 eyes fixed upon her with indescribable earnestness ; when 
 she had concluded, he began to pace about the room 
 with hurried steps. 
 
 a 'Tis just as I suspected! • he exclaimed. <( He was 
 coward enough to say to a woman, ( Expose your life 
 for mine.* But did the wretch who came to interest 
 you in his fate, did he tell you that he had just assassinated 
 one of his colleagues ? Had he, think you, even washed 
 his gory hands before he touched yours to implore your 
 protection ? n 
 
 (< Napoleon ! Napoleon ! M exclaimed my mother in Ital- 
 ian, "this is too much! Be silent; if you are not, leave 
 me! Though the man has been murdered, it does not 
 follow that it is his fault. w 
 
 Whenever my mother was violently excited she always 
 spoke Italian or Greek, and often to people who under- 
 stood neither the one nor the other. Salicetti heard the 
 whole of this conversation, for he was separated from us 
 only by a thin partition. As for me, I trembled under 
 the momentary expectation of seeing him issue from his 
 hiding place. I then knew but little of the world. 
 After some further conversation of the same kind, Bona- 
 parte rose to take his leave. <( Then you really believe 
 he returned home ? " said he, as he took up his hat. 
 "Yes," replied my mother; <( I told him that, since he
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRAXTES 87 
 
 must conceal himself in Paris, it were best to bribe the 
 people of his own hotel, because that would be the last 
 place where his enemies would think of searching for 
 him." Bonaparte then left us, and it was high time, for 
 my poor mother was exhausted. She beckoned me to go 
 and bolt her chamber door, and open that of Salicetti's 
 retreat. 
 
 I never liked Salicetti. There was something about him 
 which to me was always repulsive. When I read the 
 story of the "Vampire," I associated that fictitious char- 
 acter w r ith the recollection of Salicetti. His pale jaun- 
 diced complexion, his dark glaring eyes, his lips, which 
 turned deadly white whenever he was agitated by any 
 powerful emotion, all seemed present to me. 
 
 When I opened the door after Bonaparte's departure 
 the sight of Salicetti produced in me a feeling of hor- 
 ror which I shall never forget. He sat on a small chair 
 at the bedside, his head leaning on his hand, which was 
 covered with blood, as was likewise the bed itself, and 
 a basin over which he was leaning was full. He had 
 been seized with a hemorrhage, and streams of blood 
 were running from his mouth and nose. His face was 
 frightfully pallid, and his whole appearance affected me 
 to such a degree that it haunted me in dreams a long 
 time after. My mother ran to him; he had nearly 
 swooned. She took his hand; it was quite cold. We 
 called up Mariette, and on her applying some vinegar 
 to his nose he recovered. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 The Trial of Romme, Soubrani, and Their Colleagues — Project for 
 Saving Salicetti — Sentence and Death of the Prisoners — Horrible 
 Scene. 
 
 Preparations were making for the trial of the parties 
 accused of the proceedings of May. The officers 
 were on the lookout for Salicetti and another repre- 
 sentative. Salicetti was not beloved by his colleagues.
 
 88 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 He was certainly a man of talent, and full of ambition; 
 but the projects he wished to realize were of a nature 
 to bring down on their author severe retribution. 
 
 Romme, a distinguished mathematician, was already 
 arrested, as was also Goujon, who, since the opening of 
 the Convention, had rendered himself remarkable for 
 his private virtues and Republican sentiments; Soubrani, 
 Duquesnoi, Duroi, and Bourbotte were also in custody. 
 Each of these individuals was distinguished, as well by 
 his personal character as by his statesmanlike qualities. 
 What reflections were awakened at seeing such men 
 seated on the criminal bench! 
 
 My mother received a letter from my father, who, 
 having heard of the danger of Salicetti, desired her to 
 do whatever she could to render him assistance. This 
 letter was delivered to her by M. Emilhaud, of Bordeaux, 
 a gentleman who appeared to possess the full confidence 
 of my father. 
 
 One day, when M. Emilhaud called upon my mother, 
 he brought, with him a Spanish General, named Miranda. 
 While these gentlemen were in the drawing-room con- 
 versing with my mother, I had occasion to pass through 
 the antechamber; but no sooner had I entered than I 
 started suddenly. I thought I saw Salicetti standing be- 
 fore me. Never was resemblance more striking, except 
 that the individual whom I for a moment mistook for 
 Salicetti was not quite so tall as he. The man was a 
 Spaniard, in the service of General Miranda. 
 
 By chance I mentioned this resemblance without think- 
 ing it a matter of importance. However, it happened to 
 suggest a lucky idea to my mother. 
 
 "We are saved! }> she exclaimed. (< It will be hard in- 
 deed if we cannot find in all Paris a man five feet six 
 inches ( French ) high, with a face like General Miranda's 
 servant." My brother, Salicetti, and Madame Gr6try 
 were immediately summoned to hold a council. 
 
 tt I must look out for a valet, M said my mother; (< and 
 when I find one who will suit me, I will take him to 
 the Section to get a passport. Having got possession of 
 the passport, I can easily find a pretense to quarrel with 
 my valet, and if I turn him oil with a month's wages 
 he will no doubt be very well satisfied." My mother 
 clapped her little hands at the thought of this stratagem.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 89 
 
 She was quite overjoyed; but, alas! a scene speedily- 
 ensued which changed all her happiness to grief and 
 horror. 
 
 Meanwhile the trial of the prisoners came on. They 
 had been brought to Paris, and the special court-martial 
 appointed to try them held its sittings in the Rue Neuve- 
 des-Petits Champs. Salicetti was the only one who had 
 escaped the grasp of justice; and, urged by his anxiety, 
 my brother was constantly on the road from our hotel 
 to the Rue Neuve-des-Petits Champs during the short 
 time that was expended in deliberating on the fate of 
 the unfortunate men. 
 
 One day he returned home dreadfully agitated. He 
 had witnessed an awful scene. Romme, Soubrani, Duroi, 
 Duqucsnoi, Goujon, and Bourbotte were condemned. 
 During their trial they had exhibited the most admirable 
 fortitude, feeling, and patriotism. The conduct of Romme, 
 in particular, is said to have been sublime. 
 
 When sentence was pronounced on them they surveyed 
 each other calmly and serenely, and on descending the 
 grand staircase, which was lined with spectators, Romme 
 looked about as if seeking somebody. Probably the per- 
 son who had promised to be there had not the courage 
 to attend. "No matter, B said he; w with a firm hand 
 this will do. Vive la Liber t c' ! n 
 
 Then, drawing from his pocket a very large penknife, 
 or perhaps it might more properly be called a small 
 poniard, he plunged it into his heart, and, drawing it out 
 again, gave it to Goujon, who, in like manner, passed it to 
 Duquesnoi. All three fell dead instantly without littering 
 a groan. The weapon of deliverance, transmitted to Sou- 
 brani by the trembling hands of Duquesnoi, found its way 
 to the noble hearts of the rest ; but they were not so for- 
 tunate as their three friends. Grievously wounded, but 
 yet alive, they fell at the foot of the scaffold, which the 
 executioners made them ascend, bleeding and mutilated 
 as they were. Such barbarity would scarcely have been 
 committed by savages. 
 
 My brother stood so near Romme, to whom he wished 
 to address a few words of friendship and consolation, 
 that the blood of the unfortunate man dropped upon him. 
 My brother's coat was stained with the scarcely-cold blood 
 of a man who only a few clays before was seated in the
 
 9 o MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 very chamber, perhaps in the very chair, in which Albert 
 was then sitting. 
 
 The appearance of Salicetti inspired nothing but horror; 
 indeed, I could not bear to look on him, so much did I 
 dread his aspect. "Without any consideration for my 
 brother's feelings, he made him repeat, over and over 
 again, the dreadful details of the tragedy he had just 
 witnessed. 
 
 Bonaparte had gone to Saint- Maur to spend a few days. 
 He was in the habit of going there occasionally, though 
 I do not know to whom. I have since put the question 
 to Junot, who declared he knew nothing of the matter, 
 and added that Bonaparte was very reserved on some sub- 
 jects. 
 
 When informed of the horrible catastrophe detailed 
 above, he expressed the genuine emotions of his heart; 
 and in spite of all that Madame Bourrienne says,* I 
 maintain that at this period he was a very feeling man. 
 
 Bonaparte had in general a bad delivery; I mean to 
 say he was not eloquent in his manner of expressing 
 himself. His concise style took from his language that 
 air of courtesy, or at least of elegance, which is indis- 
 pensable to the most ordinary conversation. The fact is, 
 
 * (< I remarked at this period, » wrote Mme. de Bourrienne of Na- 
 poleon, in 1795, <( that his character was reserved, and frequently- 
 gloomy. His smile was hypocritical, and often misplaced ; and I recol- 
 lect that a few days after our return he gave us one of those specimens 
 of savage hilarity which I greatly disliked, and which prepossessed me 
 against him. He was telling us that being before Toulon, where he 
 commanded the artillery, one of his officers was visited by his wife, to 
 whom he had been but a short time married, and whom he tenderly 
 loved. A few days after, orders were given for another attack upon the 
 town, in which this officer was to be engaged. His wife came to 
 General Bonaparte, and with tears entreated him to dispense with her 
 husband's services that day. The General was inexorable, as he him- 
 self told us, with a sort of savage exultation. The moment for the 
 attack arrived, and the officer, though a very brave man, as Bonaparte 
 himself assured us, felt a presentiment of his approaching death. He 
 turned pale, and trembled. He was stationed beside the General, and 
 during an interval when the firing from the town was very heavy Bona- 
 parte called out to him, ( Take care, there is a shell coming!* The 
 officer, instead of moving to one side, stooped down, and was literally 
 severed in two. Bonaparte laughed loudly while he described the 
 event with horrible minuteness." — Bourrienne's <( Memoirs of Napoleon 
 Bonaparte, n edited by R. W. Phipps ; London : Bentley, 1885, vol. 1., 
 P- 3i-
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 91 
 
 he was only eloquent at moments when his heart ex- 
 panded ; then it was, as the fairy legends say, that pearls 
 and rubies dropped from his mouth. 
 
 The present was one of those occasions, and the un- 
 fortunate men who had just suffered found in Bonaparte 
 an admirable panegyrist. Far different was his language 
 toward Salicetti, Freron, and all those who, he said, 
 wanted to renew the Reign of Terror. The mention of 
 these names led him to speak of himself, and of his 
 blighted hopes and his misfortunes. (< Yet I am only 
 twenty-six years old, w exclaimed he, striking his forehead 
 — "only twenty-six. * 
 
 He then regarded my mother with a look so melancholy 
 that she said, after he was gone, <( When I think on that 
 young man's unhappiness, I almost reproach myself for 
 what I have done for his enemy. w 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 Salicetti's Proxy — We Procure Our Passports — Our Departure for 
 Bordeaux — The First Post — Generous Letter from Bonaparte — Sali- 
 cetti's Ingratitude — Oui Arrival at Bordeaux — Difficulty of Obtain- 
 ing a Vessel for Salicetti — We Proceed to Cette — Salicetti Sails for 
 Genoa — Our Arrival at Montpellier. 
 
 We had above thirty applicants for the valet's situa- 
 tion, but none of them would do. When any- 
 one presented himself who did not possess the 
 requisite personal qualifications, my mother immediately 
 sent him about his business. What trampling there was 
 up and down the staircase of the Hotel de la Tranquil- 
 lite ! 
 
 At last an overgrown boy, named Gabriel Tachard, 
 made his appearance. He bore, it is true, no resem- 
 blance to Salicetti, yet we thought he might pass very 
 well for his proxy at the Section. He was a stupid fel- 
 low, who would not certainly have remained in my 
 mother's service a week, but he possessed the conjoined 
 recommendations of being exactly five feet six, with 
 black eyes and hair, a straight nose, round chin, and a
 
 92 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUXOT 
 
 sallow complexion, and slightly marked with the small- 
 pox. 
 
 The next quality to be combined with all these was 
 the right age, or at least the semblance of it; for Sali- 
 cetti was, I believe, at that period thirty. However, we 
 went to the Section, my brother, myself, Mariette, Gabriel 
 Tachard, and Madame Gretry, who was to answer for her 
 lodger. 
 
 We were supplied with passports, and all returned 
 pleased, my mother and myself at the prospect of leav- 
 ing Paris, Gabriel at having, as he thought, obtained a 
 good place, and Madame Gretry at getting rid of her 
 lodgers; for, spite of its name, her hotel had been one 
 uninterrupted scene of tumult ever since Salicetti had, 
 by dint of gold, obtained permission to make it his hid- 
 ing place. 
 
 For the last eight days my mother had given out to 
 her friends that my father expected her at Bordeaux. 
 She now received another letter, enjoining her instant 
 departure. In consequence, she determined to set off in 
 two days. 
 
 (< You do well to go, * said Bonaparte, taking her hand, 
 and looking at her significantly ; (< and yet you were wise 
 in not going sooner. M "Why so ? w w Oh, I cannot tell 
 you now ; but you shall know before you return to Paris. 8 
 <{ But I cannot wait ; you know that we women are curi- 
 ous. }> (( "Well, you shall know the reason. At what time 
 do you set out ? a (( I do not exactly know ; but I sup- 
 pose about eleven or twelve to-night, in order to avoid 
 the heat. It is best in hot weather to travel by night 
 and sleep by day. H "Exactly so; an excellent thought, 
 that. Well," continued he, <( you shall know my little 
 secret when you arrive at Longjumeau." "And why at 
 Longjumeau ? w "It is a whim of mine," replied he. 
 "Well, be it so; but I must tell you en passant, my dear 
 Napoleon, that you are a sad teazer. w 
 
 While this conversation was going on our dinner hour 
 arrived and Napoleon stayed and dined with us. During 
 dinner he said to my mother: 
 
 <( I wish you would take me with you on this journey. 
 I will go and see my mother while you are settling your 
 business at Bordeaux and Toulouse ; I will then rejoin 
 you and M. Permon, and we will all return together to
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 93 
 
 Paris. I am quite idle here, thanks to that villain who 
 has ruined me. I am now ready to be anything — a 
 Chinese, a Turk, or a Hottentot. Indeed, if you do 
 not take me with you I shall go to Turkey or to China. 
 There the British power may be most effectively injured 
 by a commercial treaty with the Turks or Chinese. w 
 
 He then began to talk on politics with my brother, and 
 in less than an hour's time the Emperor of China was 
 converted to Catholicism, and the Grand Calao was 
 superseded by a Minister of Justice. 
 
 At length the day of our departure arrived. Several 
 of our friends came to take leave of us, and, among 
 others, Bonaparte. He stepped up to my mother, and, 
 taking her by the hand, said in a low tone, (< When you 
 return, think of this day. We may, perhaps, never 
 meet again. Ere long my destiny will lead me far from 
 France ; but, wheresoever I go, I shall ever be your 
 faithful friend. * 
 
 My mother answered him that he, might at all times 
 reckon on her friendship. (< You know, my dear Bona- 
 parte, * she added, <( that I look upon you in the light of 
 my Albert's brother. w 
 
 Our friends departed; post horses were procured, and 
 Madame Gretry, though already munificently rewarded, 
 was promised besides a considerable present when Sali- 
 cetti should have embarked. As to the valet, my mother 
 dismissed him with a month's wages in advance, to his 
 infinite satisfaction. Salicetti then assumed the name of 
 Gabriel Tachard, under which he was to travel into the 
 south of France. 
 
 We set out. Salicetti seated himself on the box of my 
 mother's traveling berlin, and we got out of Paris with- 
 out any other delay than that occasioned by the exam- 
 ination at the barrier. The postilion, on the promise of 
 something to drink, brought us with the speed of light- 
 ning to the Croix dc Berney. As we were about to 
 start again, the first postilion from the Paris post came 
 to the door of the coach and asked for citoyenne Per- 
 mon. My mother asked him what he wanted. 
 
 (< I have a letter for you, * said he. <( You surely are 
 mistaken ! B said my mother ; <c it cannot be for me ! w 
 
 No, w rejoined the man; (< I do not mistake, if you are 
 citoyenne Permon. w
 
 94 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 At that instant the recollection of the words of Bona- 
 parte flashed across my mother's memory. She took the 
 letter, and offered the bearer an assignat of five francs; 
 but he refused to accept it, saying that he had been 
 already paid by the young man. At the season of the 
 year at which we were traveling the nights were short; 
 my mother's curiosity was not, therefore, kept long in 
 suspense ; daylight soon enabled her to peruse the letter. 
 The handwriting neither of us knew. I have since, 
 however, learned that it was Junot's. 
 
 This very singular epistle places the character of Na- 
 poleon in a light from which his enemies have often 
 sought to exclude it. It was couched in the following 
 words : 
 
 ( Translation. ) 
 
 (< I never like to be thought a dupe. I should seem to be one in your 
 eyes if I did not tell you that I knew of Salicetti's place of concealment 
 more than twenty days ago. You may recollect, Madame Permon, 
 what I said .to you on the first of Prairial. I was almost morally 
 certain of the fact ; now I know it positively. 
 
 « You see then, Salicetti, that I might have returned the ill you did to 
 me. In so doing I should only have avenged myself; but you injured 
 me when I had not offended you. Which of us stands in the preferable 
 point of view at this moment ? I might have taken my revenge ; but I 
 did not Perhaps you will say that your benefactress was your safe- 
 guard. That consideration, I confess, was powerful. But alone, un- 
 armed, and an outlaw, your life would have been sacred to me. Go, 
 seek in peace an asylum where you may learn to cherish better 
 sentiments for your country. About your name my mouth is closed. 
 Repent, and appreciate my motives. 
 
 (< Madame Permon, my best wishes are with you and your child. 
 You are feeble and defenseless beings. May Providence and a friend's 
 prayers protect you ! Be cautious, and do not stay in the large towns 
 through which you may have to pass. 
 
 «Adieu.» 
 
 The letter had no signature. My mother, after having 
 read it, remained for some time absorbed in profound 
 reflection. She then handed it to me, desiring me in 
 Greek to read it to myself. I was thunderstruck. The 
 look which accompanied the few words my mother said 
 to me in Greek sufficiently indicated on whom her sus- 
 picion lay; and, I confess, I could not help sharing it. 
 
 I looked at Mariette, who rode in the carriage with us. 
 She was pale, and her eyes were red with weeping. I 
 had observed that she had been singularly low-spirited,
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 95 
 
 and sighed frequently during the whole of the journey. 
 I was convinced my conjecture was right. 
 
 We stopped to breakfast. I think it was at Etampes; 
 and my mother showed Salicctti the letter. He read it 
 over and over at least ten times. At length he ex- 
 claimed, <( I am lost ! I am lost ! Fool that I was, to 
 trust to a woman's prudence ! " 
 
 <( Salicetti," said my mother, suppressing her irritation, 
 (< you yourself have been the only imprudent person in 
 this affair, and your unjust reproach is a compliment to 
 us — I mean to my daughter and me; for you must rely 
 very confidently on our generosity, when you can venture 
 to reward us thus for all that we have done for you." 
 
 Before my mother had ended her reply, Salicetti al- 
 ready repented of his foolish exclamation. He very hum- 
 bly asked our pardon. He then said he had heard us 
 express some suspicion of Mariette. "Never mind — 
 never mind," said my mother. <( You ought rather to 
 admire the noble conduct of Bonaparte ; it is most gen- 
 erous!" 
 
 "Generous!" repeated Salicetti, with a contemptuous 
 smile. (< What would you have had him do ? Would you 
 have wished him to betray me ? " 
 
 My mother looked at him steadfastly, and then said: 
 w I do not know what I would have him do ; but this I 
 know, that I should wish to see you grateful." 
 
 I may here mention that Mariette was really the guilty 
 party. Bonaparte's servant was her lover; his master 
 profited by this circumstance; and the present of a gold 
 cross induced the poor girl to betray a secret which 
 might have compromised the safety of the whole house. 
 As to my mother, her fate was certain. 
 
 When we had passed through Tours, Salicetti traveled 
 inside the berlin. As we drove along we heard noth- 
 ing but imprecations against the Convention, and all 
 those who had wished to bring back the Reign of Ter- 
 ror. The people were in a state of great excitement. 
 (< Heavens ! " said my mother, (< if you were known here, 
 what would become of us!" 
 
 We had good reason for alarm in several parts of our 
 journey; but at length we arrived in safety at Bordeaux. 
 There, to our great surprise, instead of finding my father, 
 we found only a letter from him, in which he informed
 
 9 6 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUXOT 
 
 us that he was obliged to depart for the country, but that 
 his friend M. Emilhaud would attend my mother; and 
 he gave her his address, that she might send for him on 
 her arrival. 
 
 In a quarter of an hour afterward M. Emilhaud was 
 with us. We learned from him that my father had made 
 unavailing inquiries for a vessel that would convey a 
 passenger to Italy. None would start for the space of a 
 fortnight. Ships were going to the United States, to St. 
 Domingo, and to England; but Salicetti neither could nor 
 would go anywhere, except to Genoa or Venice. My 
 mother was in despair. 
 
 Next day, however, Laudois, my father's valet dc cham- 
 brt\ came to us. He informed us that my father had as- 
 certained that at Narbonne or at Cette a vessel would 
 sail for Genoa, and several for Venice. He had, in con- 
 sequence, made an arrangement with the master of a 
 yacht to convey us up the Garonne as far as Toulouse, 
 and from thence by the canal to Carcassonne. The car- 
 riage could be taken on board the yacht; and from Car- 
 cassonne we should only have to travel a few leagues to 
 reach Cette or Narbonne. 
 
 My father thought this mode of traveling much safer 
 for us than by land, on account of the rigid orders that 
 had everywhere been issued. Salicetti was quite of my 
 father's opinion; and, with the assistance of Laudois, 
 we were soon on board the yacht and sailing up the 
 Garonne. 
 
 We soon arrived at Carcassonne, and from thence reached 
 Narbonne; but here we found no vessel going to Italy. 
 We proceeded to Cette; and there we learned that two 
 vessels were about to sail, the one in two days for Tri- 
 este, and the other that same evening for Genoa. 
 
 The captain of the latter vessel, which, singularly 
 enough was named the <( Convention, ■ informed us that 
 he should be under way at nine o'clock ; and, as the wind 
 was fair, he should not be long in reaching his destina- 
 tion. Salicetti was inclined to wait for the vessel bound 
 for Trieste, but my mother would hear of no further de- 
 lay. She observed that the wind might not be fair for 
 Trieste on the day appointed, and that it was best to 
 take advantage of the favorable breeze that was blowing 
 that evening.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 97 
 
 We sat down to dinner; and when we had ended our 
 repast Laudois and the servants of the inn conveyed the 
 baggage of the fugitive on board the vessel. Salicetti 
 stepped up to my mother, and taking both her hands in 
 his said: 
 
 (C I should have too much to say, Madame Permon, 
 were I to attempt to express my gratitude by words. 
 As to Bonaparte, tell him I thank him. Hitherto I did 
 not believe him capable of generosity; I am now bound 
 to acknowledge my mistake. I thank him. M 
 
 He jumped into a little boat with the captain of the 
 (< Convention, 8 and was soon on board the vessel which 
 was to convey him to the shore where he hoped to find 
 refuge rather than hospitality. We slept that night at 
 the inn at Cette; and next morning, after breakfast, we 
 set out for Montpellier. On our arrival there I discov- 
 ered that death, emigration, and civil discord had com- 
 mitted melancholy ravages in that city. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 Couder's Invitation to My Father — Salicetti's Letter to My Mother — 
 Madame de Saint Ange — Her Present to Bonaparte — Trading 
 Speculation — Bonaparte and Bartolomeo Peraldi. 
 
 MY father's health had suffered from the miseries of 
 the Revolution. His feelings and his interests 
 were alike wounded. The vexations he had suf- 
 fered brought on a serious illness, which was augmented 
 by the state of seclusion in which he chose to live. My 
 mother was accustomed to mingle with the world, and 
 her quick perception soon enabled her to discover that 
 my father's situation was not without danger. 
 
 Couder, the procureur of the Commune, whom I have 
 already mentioned as a worthy, honest man, warned my 
 mother of the disagreeable reports which were in circu- 
 lation at Toulouse respecting my father. 
 
 (< It is said, * observed Couder, (< that he is ill of the 
 aristocratic fever; I denied the truth of the report, and 
 contended that the citizen Permon was a stanch Repub- 
 lican. I know very well," replied he, smiling signifi- 
 7
 
 9 8 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUXOT 
 
 cantly, " that that is not quite true ; but there is no harm 
 in a little falsehood sometimes. However, if you will 
 take my advice you will force citizen Permon a little 
 more into society. If he would do me the honor to 
 accept a place in my box at the theater — if . . . " 
 Here Couder was a little embarrassed. 
 
 " Generous man ! " cried my mother, as she shook the 
 honest shoemaker's rough hand; "generous man! — yes, 
 we will come to your box; I am sure Permon and I will 
 feel honored by your kind offer." 
 
 <( Charles, " said she to my father, as soon as the pro- 
 cureur had left her, " do you know what Couder has 
 been saying ? " and she related the conversation which 
 had taken place, without forgetting the proposition about 
 the box. My father turned red and made no reply. But 
 when my mother pressed him for an answer, he shrugged 
 his shoulders and, with a bitter smile, said: 
 
 (< What a question ! What would you have me do ? 
 Citizen Couder B (and he laid a great emphasis on the 
 word citizen) "summons citizen Permon to the bar of his 
 box. We must of course go; that is better than to be 
 dragged to a dungeon by gendarmes; I have only that 
 alternative. I believe this is a second Thirion. O Marie, 
 Marie, you might have spared me this insult!" 
 
 My mother burst into tears. "Charles," she exclaimed, 
 <( you view this matter in a wrong light ; you misconstrue 
 the intentions of your friends. Do you believe that I would 
 have listened to an invitation which bore the least ap- 
 pearance of an insult to you ? " 
 
 • Doubtless, my dear Marie, " exclaimed my father, 
 impatiently interrupting her; "let this man make your 
 shoes, but speak to me no more about his box. I am 
 tired of this," said he, throwing himself upon his couch. 
 There the conversation ended; and it may be supposed 
 that my father did not go to the theater. 
 
 Couder was told that my father was ill, and he received 
 the excuse without appearing hurt. Had he listened to 
 the dictates of wounded pride he might have done us a 
 great deal of harm. 
 
 Salicetti often wrote to my mother. Shortly after the 
 scene I have just described she received a letter from 
 him which showed that he had heard my father was hos- 
 tile to the Government.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 99 
 
 <( Be on your guard, dear Signora Panoria," he said; 
 w I hear that plots are being secretly and silently organ- 
 ized. They say the Royalists are about to rise. Cer- 
 tainly, I am far from suspecting citizen Permon of 
 engaging in any conspiracy, for I have pledged my 
 word for him. But others, dear citizen, will suspect 
 that his wish to remain secluded arises from the desire 
 to conceal some culpable design from scrutinizing eyes. 
 Prevail on him to mix a little more with society; 
 you always had an attractive house. Why should 
 not your drawing-room at Toulouse be as it was in 
 Paris ? » 
 
 My mother showed this letter to my father, who at 
 length saw the danger of exciting toward us the attention 
 of suspicious authority. My mother knew already almost 
 everybody in Toulouse, and our home was speedily one 
 of the gayest in the town. By a singular chance my 
 mother found in Toulouse one of her cousins, from 
 Corsica, whom I used to call my aunt. Mademoiselle 
 Stephanopoli had married M. de Saint Ange, a distin- 
 guished naval officer, who, having quitted the service at 
 the breaking out of the Revolution, purchased at Saint 
 Michel de Lunez, near Castlenaudary, an ancient chateau^ 
 formerly belonging to the Polignacs. There he resided 
 with his wife and seven lovely children. Madame de 
 Saint Ange and my mother were delighted to meet again. 
 Mademoiselle Stephanopoli was, like my mother, the 
 friend of Laetitia Bonaparte. 
 
 (< Well, Panoria, }> said she one day, (< you see one of 
 Laetitia Ramolini's sons has made his way in the world. 
 That young man is likely to become a General of Division. 
 I confess that I should not have expected it, for Joseph 
 was the one I thought would raise up the family. And 
 the Archdeacon w 
 
 (< Oh ! do not mention the Archdeacon, " exclaimed my 
 mother ; <( I was tired of hearing his name before we left 
 Corsica. w 
 
 "But, figlia mia* replied my aunt, who was as lively 
 as a girl of fifteen, (< though the Archdeacon is no favorite 
 of yours he is nevertheless a person of great importance 
 in the Bonaparte family. I think with him that Joseph 
 is the flower of the flock. He is so handsome and so 
 well bred. Napoleon is downright ugly, figlia mia ; as
 
 ioo MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 stupid as a mule, and very ill-behaved — though he is 
 your prottgt, figlia mia ! n 
 
 <c Ah, cousin, w replied my mother, (< I see he has done 
 something to offend you, and, like a true Corsican, you 
 will not forgive him. 8 My aunt laughed. The fact was, 
 Bonaparte had offended her only a few months previously. 
 I will relate how. 
 
 At that period almost everyone endeavored to increase 
 the little fortune they might have saved from the wreck. 
 Few were such fools as to be too prcud to do this. My 
 aunt found that she might earn some money by trans- 
 mitting to the ports of Provence goods for the Corsican 
 market, and bartering them for others. Some time after 
 the siege of Toulon she sent to Marseilles cloth and linen 
 to be shipped for Calvi. Her agent, however, wrote to 
 acquaint her that the English maintained the blockade 
 with such vigilance that he was unable to effect the trans- 
 mission of the goods. 
 
 "Take my advice, w added he, <( and dispose of your 
 goods either at Toulon, at Antibes, or at Nice. There 
 are troops at those places, two-thirds of whom, to my 
 knowledge, have not shirts to their backs. Your cloth 
 is good in quality and reasonable in price ;* therefore it 
 will sell well. You know General Bonaparte ; write to him, 
 and you will, I make no doubt, realize fifty per cent profit. tt 
 
 My aunt saw that the project would answer; she 
 therefore addressed a letter to Bonaparte, which she took 
 care to write in Italian, sprinkled here and there with 
 a few Corsican words, with the view of reminding him of 
 his country and his friends. This done, she sent the packet 
 under the care of an old domestic of her father, who had 
 settled in the environs of Marseilles. 
 
 This man was a Corsican, named Bartolomeo Peraldi. 
 He knew all the Bonaparte family, and of course Napo- 
 leon among the rest. The General's epaulettes did not 
 intimidate Peraldi, and having delivered to him the let- 
 ter from the Signora Catalina, he seated himself with- 
 out any ceremony. Though it was early in the morning, 
 and in the midst of winter, Bonaparte was up and 
 dressed, booted, spurred, and ready equipped to mount 
 his horse. 
 
 ♦It was made in the Chateau of Saint Michel; my aunt and cousins 
 spun the hemp and the flax.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES ioi 
 
 Bartolomeo, who surveyed the General with a scrutiniz- 
 ing eye, remarked that Bonaparte's countenance under- 
 went a sensible change while he read Madame Saint 
 Ange's letter. First an ironical smile played over his 
 features, then his forehead lowered into a frown, and sur- 
 veying Bartolomeo, he said, "What is all this non- 
 sense ? w These words were spoken in French, and in 
 so high a tone that it seemed he wished them to be 
 heard by two officers who were in the next apartment. 
 Bartolomeo perceived Bonaparte's design, and felt a 
 little nettled. He replied in Italian, though he could 
 speak French very well, <( Signor Napoleon, I do not 
 understand you. You know that in Corsica we poor 
 devils speak only our patois, as you call it here. Do me 
 then the favor to speak to me in our dear native 
 tongue. B 
 
 Bonaparte surveyed the man with a look of surprise. 
 (< I left Corsica too young to be able to express myself 
 easily in Italian, w said Napoleon, turning on his heel; 
 (< besides, I see no necessity to speak your patois as you 
 rightly term it, for Signora Catalina tells me in her let- 
 ter that you have been living for fifteen years on the 
 coast of Provence. }> * Si, signor » replied Bartolomeo. 
 <( Surely, then, you can speak French," said Bonaparte, 
 with impatience. (< What do you mean by this insolence, 
 fellow ?» 
 
 Peraldi was now a little confused, but speedily resum- 
 ing his confidence, and putting on his red and blue 
 bonnet, which he had taken off on his entrance, he ad- 
 dressed Bonaparte in the following words : (< There is no 
 need for all this jesting and calling me such names, M. 
 Napoleoncino. Tell me what answer I am to take to 
 the Signora Kalli." Bonaparte darted at him an inquir- 
 ing glance. <( Yes, sir, the Signora Catalina and the Sig- 
 nora Kalli are both the same. In short, Madame de 
 Saint Ange. What am I to tell her ? w * Know you the 
 contents of this letter ? w demanded the General, pointing 
 to my aunt's epistle, which lay on the table at his side. 
 Bartolomeo nodded assent. "Then," rejoined Bonaparte 
 angrily, and in a very loud tone, "you are more impu- 
 dent than I thought you. Here," continued he, address- 
 ing the officers in the next room, (< this fellow has brought 
 me a packet from one of my countrywomen, who wants
 
 102 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUXOT 
 
 me to get some trumpery cloth sold to the Republic. It 
 is true she allows me a commission. Here, pray read 
 the letter, citizens. " So saying, he took my aunt's let- 
 ter, to which there was attached a small bit of paper, 
 with patterns of the cloth and linen, and their prices 
 marked. <( You see, " continued he, <( that she offers me 
 the piece marked No. 2 as a bribe, and if she seduce 
 me, it will not be, as you perceive, by the splendor of 
 the present." 
 
 The two young officers laughed immoderately when they 
 looked on the pattern, which was coarse and brown, and 
 scarcely fit for soldiers' shirts. I cannot conceive what 
 my poor aunt was thinking of when she offered such a 
 present to Napoleon. 8 Begone ! " said he angrily to Bar- 
 tolomeo; <( it is lucky for you that you are only the 
 bearer of this impudent message! Begone, I say!" 
 
 <c I am going — I am going ! Good God ! what a piece 
 of work ! And all for what ? Because good Madame de 
 Saint Ange has sent him a few ells of cloth to make 
 him half a dozen shirts. Eh! I have seen the day, and 
 not long ago either," continued he, all at once changing 
 his language, and speaking in good French — <( I have 
 seen the day when the half of this piece of cloth would 
 have been gladly accepted by your mother, General Bona- 
 parte, to make shifts for your sisters, though now they 
 have the finest that can be procured in Marseilles — and 
 not much to the credit of one of them." These last 
 words he muttered between his teeth and then with- 
 drew. 
 
 Napoleon was afterward sorry for having shown so 
 much ill humor in this foolish affair. I am sure he never 
 pardoned Bartolomeo Peraldi for the lesson he gave him 
 before two officers, who, as they did not belong to his 
 corps, conceived they had no reason to keep the secret.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 103 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 The Fair of Beaucaire — Atrocities Committed in the South — Mutilated 
 Women — Short Stay at Bordeaux — Decline of My Father's Health 
 — Return to Paris — Our Hotel Rue de la Loi — Domiciliary Visit — 
 My Father's Illness — Bonaparte's Daily Calls on My Parents — Com- 
 motions in Paris — The Convention and the Sections — The 13th 
 Vendemiaire — Bonaparte at My Mother's on the 14th, and Their Con- 
 versation — Death of My Father. 
 
 Tarascon and Beaucaire are, as everybody knows, sepa- 
 rated only by the Rhone, and the houses of the two 
 towns line either bank of the river. On seeing those 
 narrow streets, those houses with high Gothic gables, those 
 windows with small sashes and close lattices, the irregular 
 pavement formed of large flints from the river, you fancy 
 yourself in the Middle Ages; for there is nothing about 
 Beaucaire that reminds you of the age in which we are 
 living. 
 
 The fair of Beaucaire is one of the most celebrated in 
 Europe ; it is on a par with those of Frankfort and Leipsic. 
 Its originality is one of the causes that draw thither so 
 many customers. The merchant of Bagdad there sets 
 up his booth beside the manufacturer of London; the 
 trader of Astracan repairs thither to deal with the weaver 
 of Lyons; and the pearl fisher of the coast of Coromandel 
 does business with the jeweler of Paris, through the 
 medium of the garlic merchant of Marseilles. This may 
 appear extraordinary at first sight, but it is nevertheless 
 a fact; and whoever has been to the fair of Beaucaire 
 will recollect the immense heaps of garlic* 
 
 Had I not been formerly at the fair of Beaucaire I 
 could not say that I knew anything about it, for this 
 year was the first since the Revolution had overthrown all 
 the customs of this kind ; accordingly, signs of it were to 
 be seen in the singular arrangement of the shops and 
 goods. From the fear with which they displayed their 
 
 *They are from fifteen to twenty feet high, and proportionably 
 wide at the base. The sum put into circulation for this commodity 
 alone is estimated at upward of 600,000 francs, or about ^24,000; 
 at least, so I have been assured by the inhabitants of the town.
 
 104 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 stuffs and exhibited their precious stones, you would 
 have imagined that they dreaded a reaction, and were 
 afraid lest their merchandise should become the property 
 of others without the formality of a sale. 
 
 The South was actually in such a state as to excite 
 great uneasiness in those who were merely traveling 
 through it, and who could not hope for any aid from 
 •justice and the laws, since both were then absolutely 
 powerless, in case they were attacked by one of those 
 unruly parties which drenched the earth with blood by 
 their quarrels and combats, and by assassinations. These 
 parties assumed all colors, all watchwords were alike to 
 them, and the most atrocious cruelty, the most refined 
 horrors — if I may be allowed the expression — presided 
 over these acts of cannibals, under pretext of avenging 
 the province for the evils inflicted by the days of terror. 
 They fancied that with blood they could wipe away blood 
 — strange baptism ! Women, aged men, and children had 
 been thrown from the tops of the towers of the castles 
 of Tarascon. In a cavity formed by the rocks, a little 
 below the town of Beaucaire, we saw the mutilated bodies 
 of two women, whom the current had carried into that 
 cavern. There they remained, and the wind at times 
 wafted from the spot a stench that made one sick at 
 heart. 
 
 We stopped at Beaucaire no longer than was necessary 
 to see the singular assemblage which the fair brought 
 together. On this occasion, to my great regret, the 
 tarasque was not paraded about as usual; it was justly 
 apprehended that, at a moment when popular efferves- 
 cence had reached the highest pitch, this procession 
 might be attended with fatal consequences. The precise 
 origin of the tarasque is not known, and the manner in 
 which it is conducted throws no light upon this ceremony; 
 still, like the beast of the Gevaudan, it must have had 
 for its primary cause the destruction of some mischievous 
 and dangerous animal. 
 
 The remembrance of it is thus perpetuated at Beau- 
 caire: an immense machine of wickerwork, covered with 
 oilcloth, and held together by large strong hoops, is 
 shaped like a dragon or some other fantastic beast; this 
 machine, from twenty to twenty-five feet long, is filled 
 by a party of young men appointed by the town, when
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTfiS 105 
 
 the ceremony of the tarasquc is decided upon. It was 
 an honor to be admitted into this number. When they 
 were in this strange sort of vehicle they set off, and, 
 darting away at full speed, ran about the town, upsetting 
 everything before them. Woe to the blind and the slow- 
 motioned whom they encounter — they are sure to be 
 thrown down. I saw this exhibition a few years after- 
 ward, and I must confess that I fancied myself among 
 a people of maniacs. It is seldom that it is not pro- 
 ductive of serious accidents. 
 
 On leaving Beaucaire we returned to Bordeaux. The 
 news which my mother received from my father gave us 
 so much uneasiness as to prevent our compliance with 
 the wishes of several of our friends, who earnestly 
 begged us to go to Marseilles, to Avignon, and to Aries. 
 We returned by the same road we had come, stopping 
 only at Toulouse and Castlenaudary, whence we pro- 
 ceeded to my aunt Saint Ange. We found her still a 
 model for her sex; her virtue had so sincere a character 
 that you were forced to admire it, and this feeling was 
 experienced by all who approached her. My mother, as 
 I have observed, was tenderly attached to her; but, as 
 she herself said laughingly, she could never come up to 
 her, if she must, for that purpose, rise at four in the 
 morning and (< eat leg of goose more than four times a 
 year. B 
 
 w If your virtue could permit you to rise at nine, and 
 not eat so much salt, I could accommodate myself to it 
 well enough, cousin ; if you will agree to that, I will 
 come hither with Loulou, and we will be your best work- 
 people. w 
 
 "Altro, altro, figlia mia* replied my aunt lifting my 
 mother as she would have taken up a feather. (C Let us 
 each go on in our own way." 
 
 Dear and admirable woman! I saw her subsequently, 
 when I dwelt in a palace. <( Are you happier now than 
 when you went with your cousins to strip the mulberry 
 trees when you were a girl ? w asked she, on seeing me 
 come home at five o'clock to dress in haste, having 
 scarcely time to kiss my children and get into my car- 
 riage again to perform what were called duties. I had a 
 place at Court. 
 
 On leaving Saint Michel de Lunez we proceeded to
 
 106 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 Bordeaux. My father awaited us at the Hotel Fumele, 
 where he had provided apartments for us. Prepared as 
 we were by the accounts of Laudois and M. Emilhaud 
 for the change in my father, we were shocked on seeing 
 him. His paleness, his emaciation, his dim eyes, and 
 his tremulous voice, everything about him indicated a 
 person struck by death. His character had retained that 
 gloomy and melancholy hue which tinged it at Toulouse. 
 The solitude in which he had persisted in living had 
 proved fatal to him. 
 
 Our meeting dispelled for a few hours that sullen 
 reverie in which he was always plunged; but he soon 
 relapsed, and seemed to attach no importance to the 
 flight of Salicetti; but, after listening to our narrative of 
 the manner in which we had saved him, he smiled with 
 most expressive bitterness, and said to my mother: 
 <( You could do no less than offer him everything; it was 
 not fit that he should accept, still less ask for anything. • 
 
 When he was informed of the conduct of Bonaparte, 
 it made such an impression upon him that he rose from 
 his chair and paced the room several times without 
 uttering a word, but with visible emotion. At length he 
 returned to his seat, and taking my mother by the hand, 
 a My dear/ said he, (< this conduct is admirable. M This 
 admission was a good deal for my father; for I never 
 knew a person more sparing of commendation. <( I said 
 the same thing to Salicetti, ■ said my mother, <( and what 
 answer do you think he gave me ? ( Would you, then, 
 have had him deliver me up ? > said he to me contemptu- 
 ously. " My father shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 <( I have almost always seen," he said, "that persons 
 who regard noble and generous conduct in others as the 
 simplest thing in the world, were themselves the most 
 incapable of it. 8 
 
 My parents, having finished all their business, left 
 Bordeaux at the beginning of September, 1795, and 
 directed their course toward Paris with the intention of 
 settling there again. We arrived the 4th of the same 
 month, and alighted at the Hotel l'Autriche, Rue de la 
 Loi. My brother hastened to join us as soon as he knew 
 of our arrival. He was deeply grieved on perceiving the 
 state of my poor father, who was so fatigued with the 
 journey as to be almost dying when we reached Paris.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 107 
 
 Our physician, M. Duchannois, was sent for; he required 
 a consultation. Two days afterward my poor father was 
 very ill. A dangerous fever was superadded to his pre- 
 vious sufferings. This was too much. 
 
 General Bonaparte, apprised by my brother, came im- 
 mediately to see us. He appeared to be affected by the 
 state of my father, who, though in great pain, insisted 
 on seeing him. He came every day, and in the morning 
 he sent or called himself to inquire how he had passed 
 the night. I cannot recollect his conduct at that period 
 without sincere gratitude. He informed us that Paris 
 was in such a state as must necessarily lead to a convul- 
 sion. 
 
 The Convention, by incessantly repeating to the people 
 that it was their master, had taught them the answer 
 which they now made it in their turn. The Sections 
 were in almost avowed insurrection. The Section Le- 
 pelletier, wherein we resided, was the most turbulent, 
 and in fact the most to be dreaded; its orators did not 
 scruple to deliver the most incendiary speeches. They 
 asserted that the power of the assembled people was 
 above the laws. <c Matters are getting from bad to 
 worse, w said Bonaparte; (< the counter-revolution will 
 shortly break forth, and it will become the source of 
 fresh disasters. w 
 
 As I have said, Napoleon came every day; he dined 
 with us, and passed the evening in the drawing-room, 
 chatting in a low tone beside the easychair of my 
 mother, who, worn out with fatigue, dozed for a few 
 moments to recruit her strength, for she never quitted 
 my father's pillow. I recollect that one evening, my 
 father being very ill, my mother was weeping and in 
 great tribulation. It was ten o'clock. At that time it 
 was impossible to induce any of the servants of the hotel 
 to go out after nine. 
 
 Bonaparte said nothing. He ran downstairs and posted 
 away to Duchannois, whom he brought back with him 
 in spite of his objections. The weather was dread- 
 ful; the rain poured in torrents. Bonaparte had not 
 been able to meet with a hackney-coach to go to M. 
 Duchannois; he was soaked through. Yes, indeed, at 
 that period Bonaparte had a heart susceptible of attach- 
 ment!
 
 108 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 Meanwhile we became more and more alarmed every 
 day by the dangers which manifested themselves around 
 us. Paris rang with the tumult of the factions, which 
 drew the sword, and each hoisted its standard. Against the 
 Convention, then the only real authority, were arrayed 
 the Sections, which for some days past had declared war 
 against it. Our Section in particular was in full insur- 
 rection. Paris resembled a garrison town. The Sections 
 had even a military organization. At night we heard 
 the sentries calling to and answering one another, as in 
 a besieged town; the strictest search was made for arms 
 and ammunition ; and the Section was furnished with lists 
 of all the men capable of bearing arms. This measure 
 even occasioned a distressing incident of which our house 
 was the scene. 
 
 On the 2d of October, at two in the afternoon, my 
 father was dozing a little. He had been exhausted by 
 the effects of an emetic, and we had taken the greatest 
 precautions to prevent his being disturbed by any noise. 
 The doors were all at once thrown open, and three men, 
 talking loudly, stamping with their feet to make some- 
 one hear, and having the manners of porters, entered 
 the apartment, followed rather than conducted by the 
 master of the hotel, who was a worthy, excellent 
 man. 
 
 "What a deal of ceremony! M exclaimed one of these 
 wretches with horrid oaths ; <( and why cannot we go into 
 this room ? w <( Because there is a sick person in it, w said 
 my mother, coming forward to meet him, and shutting 
 the double door of my father's bedroom, for it was nec- 
 essary to spare him any emotion of this kind. (< And 
 who is this sick person ? w inquired the same man, with 
 an inflection of voice which showed that he did not be- 
 lieve a word that was said. <( My husband. 8 " Your hus- 
 band. And why, w said he, turning over the leaves of a 
 stitched book which he carried with him, (< has not your 
 husband given in his name to the Section ? He is, in 
 fact, inserted in the list of arrivals at the hotel, but we 
 have not seen him. What is the meaning of this con- 
 duct, at a moment when the nation needs all its defend- 
 ers ? w "And pray who are you, 8 asked my mother, 
 " who come thus to annoy my family ? Do you belong 
 to the Convention ? w <( I have probably sufficient author-
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 109 
 
 ity to talk to you as I do; but answer my question, and 
 tell me why your husband has not been to the Section ? " 
 
 My mother was going- to cut him short, when the 
 master of the hotel made her a sign which restrained 
 her. "My husband was so ill on his arrival," replied 
 she, "that he took to his bed immediately, as the master 
 of the house can certify. w The keeper of the hotel con- 
 firmed my mother's assertion, adding some civil words. 
 The man of the Section then looked at the book. 
 
 "Why, I see, w said he, "that he arrived on the 28th 
 of Fructidor (September 15), that is nineteen days ago. 
 What sort of illness is it ? I should have had time to 
 die and come to life again three times over; but that is 
 nothing to the point ; where is this citizen Permon ? 
 I must see him. w <( I have already told you that he is 
 ill, citizen. M "It is no time to be ill, when the country 
 itself is in danger. Come, open the door. n " You are 
 either a madman or a monster! w exclaimed my mother, 
 placing herself before the door of my father's room. 
 " Wretch ! stir not a step farther, or the consequences be 
 upon your own head. B 
 
 At this sharp address the man receded a few steps: 
 my mother's look must have frightened him as much as 
 he had alarmed her. While he hesitated, my mother 
 told me in Greek to go immediately through the other 
 room to my father, and endeavor to counteract the effect 
 which this noise must have had upon him. I found my 
 father much disturbed at the tumult which he had heard ; 
 the very cries of the sentries, after dark, had already 
 alarmed him. 
 
 The nurse, who had not dared to leave him, told me 
 that for above a quarter of an hour he had been wanting 
 to know what this noise was about. I told him that it 
 was a man belonging to the Section, who had come to 
 set him down in the lists of the National Guard, but that 
 on being informed of his illness he had desisted. I was 
 induced to say so, because I heard no further alterca- 
 tion. My father looked steadfastly at me. " Is that quite 
 true? }> he asked. Knowing that a true account of this scene 
 would be liable to cause a fatal crisis, I answered in the 
 affirmative, and my mother's maid, who heard the whole, 
 came in and supported me. My father did not believe it. 
 I heard him utter the words, " Wretches ! my poor coun-
 
 no MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUXOT 
 
 try! w At length he asked for my mother. I went to 
 fetch her, but in what a state did I find her! 
 
 For some years past my mother had been subject to 
 nervous paroxysms, of a character the more alarming in- 
 asmuch as she never lost her consciousness, but continued 
 in a dreadfully convulsed state for one or two hours. At 
 such times she disliked to have anybody about her. On 
 reaching the drawing-room I found her in tears, and in 
 one of the most violent spasms. 
 
 General Bonaparte was with her, endeavoring to soothe 
 her; he would not call anyone, for fear of alarming my 
 father. I hastened to bring a draught, which my mother 
 always took in these fits, and which immediately calmed 
 her. I rubbed her hands — I took her to the fire ; and 
 she was soon able to go to my father, who began to be 
 extremely uneasy because she did not come. 
 
 General Bonaparte told me that on his arrival he found 
 her on the point of attacking the assistant of the Section, 
 to prevent his entering my father's chamber: fortunately, 
 there was a double door. <( I should be glad to spare 
 your mother such scenes, n said he. c< I have not much 
 influence ; nevertheless, when I leave you, I will go my- 
 self to the Section ; I will see the president, if possible, 
 and settle the business at once. Paris is in a violent con- 
 vulsion, especially since this morning. It is necessary to 
 be very cautious in everything one does and in all one 
 says. Your brother must not go out any more. Attend 
 strictly to this, Mademoiselle Laurette, for your poor 
 mother is in a sad state. B 
 
 This was a dreadful night for my father. The disease 
 made rapid progress, increased as it was by all that he 
 heard, and that we could not keep from his knowledge. 
 The next morning the drums were beat in the Section 
 Lepelletier: it was impossible for us to deceive him in 
 regard to that sound, with which he was but too well 
 acquainted; and when M. Duchannois called to see him, 
 he no longer concealed from us the danger of his situ- 
 ation. 
 
 My poor father perceived it before M. Duchannois had 
 uttered a word: no doubt he felt it too. Be this as it 
 may, he desired to see M. Brunetiere, and M. Renaudot, 
 his notary. They were sent for. The streets were 
 already very unsafe, and those gentlemen were not to be
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES in 
 
 found. M. Brunetiere was not in Paris, and M. Renaudot 
 was from home. The tumult became very great at dusk: 
 the theaters were nevertheless open. Indeed, we are a 
 nation of lunatics! 
 
 On the morning - of the 12th, Bonaparte, who had called 
 according to custom, appeared to be lost in thought: he 
 went out, came back, went out again, and again returned 
 when we were at our dessert. I recollect that he ate a 
 bunch of grapes, and took a large cup of coffee. <( I 
 
 breakfasted very late, )) said he, w at .* They talked 
 
 politics there till I was quite tired of the subject. I will 
 try to learn the news, and if I hear anything interesting 
 I will come and tell you." 
 
 We did not see him again. The night was stormy, 
 especially in our Section. The whole Rue de la Loi was 
 studded with bayonets. General d'Agneau, who com- 
 manded the Sections, had called to see someone in the 
 next house to ours, and one of the officers who were with 
 him had expressed the most hostile disposition. Barri- 
 cades were already erected in our street, but some officers 
 of the National Guard ordered them to be removed. 
 
 The National Guard was the principal force of the 
 Sections. Its grenadiers and its chasseurs, shopkeepers, 
 and a few private individuals belonging to the party, 
 these were the elements opposed to the troops of the 
 line commanded by experienced generals such as Brune, 
 Berruyer, Montchoisy, Verdier, and lastly Bonaparte. 
 
 On the morning of the 13th my father was very ill. 
 It was impossible to expect M. Duchannois ; our gratitude 
 was the more ardent when we saw him arrive. He 
 stayed nearly an hour with us: in anticipation of what 
 might happen, he left directions as to what was to be 
 done in case he should be out of the way when wanted; 
 but he did not conceal from my brother and myself the 
 effect which the events in preparation were likely to have 
 on our unfortunate father. 
 
 (< A few days ago, }> said he, <( I began to have fresh 
 hopes; but the affair of the day before yesterday, of 
 which he was informed by his nurse (the silly creature 
 had related it to him after my departure, for the purpose 
 of diverting his mind), <( has brought on the fever again 
 with redoubled violence. I dare not indulge the hope 
 
 * I believe it was at Bourrienne's, but I am not sure.
 
 ii2 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 that he will be insensible to the commotion about to 
 take place." 
 
 For seme hours we nattered ourselves that matters 
 would be adjusted between the Convention and the 
 rebels; but about half-past four the firing of cannon 
 began. Scarcely was the first discharge heard before it 
 was answered from all quarters. The effect on my poor 
 father was terrible and immediate. He gave a piercing 
 shriek, called for assistance, and was seized with the 
 most violent delirium. 
 
 To no purpose did we administer the draughts prescribed 
 for him by M. Duchannois. All the scenes of the Rev- 
 olution passed in review before him, and every discharge 
 that he heard was a blow as if it struck him personally. 
 What a day! what an evening! what a night! Every 
 pane of glass was broken to pieces. Toward evening 
 the Section fell back upon our quarter: the fighting was 
 continued almost under our windows; but when it had 
 reached Saint Roch, and particularly the Theatre de la 
 Republique, we imagined that the house was tumbling 
 about our ears. 
 
 My father was in the agonies of death : he cried aloud ; 
 he wept. Never — no, never — shall I suffer what I did 
 during that terrible night! When we heard barricades 
 forming in the Rue de la Loi, we gave ourselves up for 
 lost. Patrols passed to and fro in all directions: they 
 belonged to all parties; for, in truth, on that disastrous 
 day there were more than two. 
 
 We were forced to tell my father all. We had at first 
 thought of passing it off as a festival, as salutes of rejoic- 
 ing. As he was exceedingly debilitated by his long and 
 painful illness, we should perhaps have made him believe 
 this, but for the indiscretion of his nurse; in short, he 
 knew all. I loved my father with extreme affection; I 
 adored my mother. I saw one expiring from the 
 effect of the thunders of the cannon; while the other, 
 extended on the foot of his deathbed, seemed ready to 
 follow him. 
 
 Xext day tranquillity was restored, we were told, in 
 
 Paris. It was then that we could perceive the havoc 
 
 which a few hours had made in the condition of my 
 
 father. M. Duchannois came in the morning. My father 
 
 aed to speak to him alone. He then desired my mother
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 113 
 
 to be sent for. Suddenly I heard a violent scream. I ran 
 to my father's chamber: my mother was in one of her 
 most dreadful nervous paroxysms. She motioned to me 
 to call Josephine, her maid, to take her away. Her face, 
 always so beautiful, was quite distorted. Till that day she 
 had flattered herself: her hopes had just been utterly 
 destroyed. 
 
 I can scarcely give any account of the 14th. My father's 
 state, which hourly grew worse, left me no other faculty 
 than that of suffering and trying to impart a little forti- 
 tude to my poor mother. Toward evening Bonaparte 
 came for a moment; he found me in tears. When he 
 learned the cause his cheerful and open countenance 
 suddenly changed. 
 
 (< I should like to see Madame Permon, w said he. I was 
 going to fetch my mother, who entered at that moment; 
 she knew no more than I how important a part Bona- 
 parte had played on that great day. (< Oh ! M said my 
 mother, weeping, (< they have killed him. You, Napo- 
 leon, can feel for my distress! Do you recollect that, on 
 the first of Prairial, when you came to sup with me, you 
 told me that you had just prevented Barras from bom- 
 barding Paris ? Do you recollect it ? For my part, n con- 
 tinued she, (< I have not forgotten it. • 
 
 I never knew what effect this address had on Bona- 
 parte ; many persons have alleged that he always re- 
 gretted that day. Be this as it may, he was exceedingly 
 kind to my mother in these moments of affliction, though 
 himself in circumstances that could not but outweigh all 
 other interests: he was like a son, like a brother. 
 
 My poor father languished for two more days. We lost 
 him on the 17th of Vendemiaire.* To me he was more 
 than a father: he was a friend, such as friendship very 
 rarely furnishes — indulgent without weakness. My 
 brother was overwhelmed with grief. He, too, had lost 
 a friend still young in my father. He had been edu- 
 cated by him, and owed him a large debt of gratitude for 
 having been so brought up. As for my mother, she was 
 long inconsolable, in the real signification of the word ; 
 she had that affection for my father which causes one to 
 mourn sincerely the loss of the person who has been the 
 object of it. 
 
 *8th of October, 1795.
 
 IH MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUXOT 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 My Mother's House in the Chaussee d'Antin — Great Change in the Situ- 
 ation of Bonaparte — Ammunition Bread — Dreadful Dearth — Char- 
 ities Bestowed by Bonaparte — The Dead Child, and the Slater's 
 Widow — Comparison between Former Fashions and Those of the 
 Republic. 
 
 My brother, as soon as he was certain of our defini- 
 tive return to Paris, had set about seeking a house 
 where we could all live together, and where we 
 might be able to accommodate my sister when she should 
 come to Paris. All these plans were destined to be 
 cruelly frustrated. As soon as our new habitation was 
 ready my mother hastened to leave the Hotel de 
 l'Autriche, to escape the painful recollections which are 
 inseparable from a residence in a place where a distress- 
 ing event has recently occurred. The house to which we 
 removed was situated in the Chaussee d'Antin ; it was 
 the small hotel, or rather the small house (ever3~body 
 knows that all the houses in this part of the Chaussee 
 d'Antin were nothing more, anterior to the Revolution) 
 of M. de Varnachan, formerly a farmer-general of taxes; 
 it was commodious, and its small appearance was a rec- 
 ommendation at a time when all were striving to make 
 as little show as possible, and to conceal their wealth. 
 
 We now learned with astonishment the good fortune 
 which had befallen Bonaparte. My mother, absorbed by 
 her grief, had not a thought to bestow on any singularity 
 which the conduct of the young General might present 
 when compared with his own words; she even saw him 
 again without having the inclination to remind him of it. 
 For the rest, a great change had taken place in Bona- 
 parte, and the change in regard to attention to his person 
 was not the least remarkable. One of the things to 
 which my mother had a particular dislike was the smell 
 of wet dirty boots put to the fire to dry; to her this 
 smell was so unpleasant that she frequently left the room, 
 and did not return till the boots had been thoroughly 
 dried and removed from the fire ; but this was followed
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 115 
 
 by another, namely, the creaking noise produced by the 
 dry sole, to which I also have a great antipathy. 
 
 In those disastrous times, when it was a matter of 
 luxury to ride in a hackney-coach, it may easily be con- 
 ceived that those who had but sufficient to pay the price 
 of a dinner did not take great delight in splashing others, 
 retained sufficient philosophy to soil their shoes or boots 
 by walking. My mother admitted the justice of the 
 remark, but she nevertheless held her perfumed handker- 
 chief to her nose whenever Bonaparte placed his little 
 feet upon the fender. He at length perceived this, and, 
 being at that time exceedingly afraid of displeasing my 
 mother, he would prevail upon our maid to brush his 
 boots before he came in. These trifling details, which 
 are nothing in themselves, become interesting when we 
 recollect the man to whom they relate. 
 
 After the 13th of Vendemiaire (4th of October) muddy 
 boots were out of the question. Bonaparte never went 
 out but in a handsome carriage, and he lived in a very 
 respectable house, Rue des Capucines. In short, he had 
 become a necessary and important personage, and all as 
 if by magic; he came every day to see us, with the 
 same kindness and the same familiarity; sometimes, but 
 very rarely, he brought along with him one of his aids- 
 de-camp, either Junot or Muiron; at other times his 
 uncle Fesch, a man of the mildest manners and most 
 even temper. 
 
 One of the persons who came very often with Bona- 
 parte was named Chauvet. I do not recollect precisely 
 what he was, but this I know, that Bonaparte was very 
 fond of him, and that he was a man of gentle disposition 
 and very ordinary conversation. 
 
 At this period famine prevailed in Paris in a greater 
 degree than anywhere else: there was a real want of 
 bread, and other kinds of provisions began no longer to 
 find their way to the city. This was the effect of a plan 
 of insurrection. The distress was dreadful. The dis- 
 credit of the assignats increased with the general misery. 
 Laboring people ceased to work, and died in their gar- 
 rets, or went and joined the bands of robbers and vaga- 
 bonds which began to collect in the provinces. In Paris 
 itself we were not free from them. 
 
 Bonaparte was at that time of great assistance to us.
 
 n6 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 We had white bread for our own consumption ; but our serv- 
 ants had only that of the Section, and this was unwhole- 
 some and barely eatable. Bonaparte sent us daily some 
 ammunition bread, which we very often ate with great 
 pleasure. I know not what Madame de Bourrienne means 
 when she talks of a circumstance connected with a loaf 
 of this sort, which happened at her house; but this I can 
 affirm, because Bonaparte thought fit to associate me 
 with himself in the good which he did, that at the 
 period in question he saved more than a hundred families 
 from perishing. 
 
 He caused wood and bread to be distributed among 
 them at their own homes : this his situation enabled him to 
 do. I have been charged by him to give these bounties 
 to more than ten unfortunate families who were starv- 
 ing. Most of them lived in the Rue Saint Nicolas, very 
 near our house. That street was then inhabited only by 
 the most indigent people : whoever has not ascended to 
 their garrets can have no conception of real wretched- 
 ness. 
 
 One day, when Bonaparte came to dine with my mother, 
 he was stopped on alighting from his carriage by a woman 
 who held a dead infant in her arms. It was the young- 
 est of her six children. Her husband, a slater by trade, 
 had been accidentally killed, three months before, while at 
 work on the roof of the Tuileries. Nearly two months' wages 
 were due to him. His widow could not obtain payment. 
 Her poor little infant had just expired from want of 
 nourishment ; it was not yet cold. She saw a man whose 
 dress was covered with gold, alight at our door almost 
 every day, and came to ask him for bread, <( that her 
 other children might not share the fate of the youngest," 
 she said; <( and if nobody will give me anything, I must 
 even take them all five and drown myself with them." 
 
 This was not an unmeaning expression, for suicides 
 were then daily occurrences; indeed, nothing was 
 talked of but tragic deaths. Be this as it may, Bona- 
 parte that day came into my mother's with a look of 
 sadness, which he retained all dinner time. He had, 
 for the moment, given a few assignats to the unhappy 
 woman. After we had left the table he begged my 
 mother to cause some inquiry to be made concerning 
 her. I undertook the office. All she said was true; and,
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 117 
 
 moreover, this poor mother was an honest and virtuous 
 woman. 
 
 Bonaparte, in the first place, obtained payment of the 
 arrears due to her husband, and a little pension was 
 afterward granted to her. Her name was Marianne 
 Huve\ She lived for a long time near our house. She 
 had four girls, whom she brought up like a good mother. 
 Two of them frequently came to do needlework for us: 
 they always expressed the most profound gratitude 
 to The General, as they called him. If I have been 
 so particular in this story, which is of little importance 
 in itself, it is for the purpose of exhibiting this fact in 
 opposition to that recorded by Madame Bourrienne, with 
 reference to a dinner at her house, at which Bonaparte 
 and his brother Louis were present. 
 
 It was some time before we were quite settled. My 
 mother was quiet enough when she was in furnished 
 lodgings, and a mere bird of passage, as it were, in a 
 town; but when a permanent establishment was in ques- 
 tion she became of all women the most difficult to 
 please. She had formed a plan for furnishing her house 
 half Asiatic, half French, which was the most delightful 
 of inventions. She had already written to Leghorn for 
 the carpets. 
 
 Notwithstanding my youth, my brother talked to me 
 on a subject which could no longer be put off. This 
 was our situation : it was frightful. The seals were re- 
 moved; my father's papers were examined; nothing was 
 found. My father had left absolutely no money. 
 
 "Left nothing!" said I to my brother; <( and the 
 money carried to England ? w <( There is no memorandum 
 of it, no trace whatever. My father, since he came to 
 Bordeaux, always paid for everything; he had money 
 for current expenses. On removing to Paris he did not 
 say a word to Brunetiere. My mother, as you well know, 
 never talked to him about money matters. As for me, 
 if he said nothing about them in England, he was not 
 more communicative here. M My mother was my first 
 thought. "Good God! Albert," said I, <( she will not sur- 
 vive it: this state of destitution will put an end to her 
 life ! » 
 
 My brother and I then agreed to conceal from my 
 mother, at least for some time, the dreadful state of our
 
 n8 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUXOT 
 
 affairs. We had still something in the Funds and some 
 ready money. My brother had also some of his own, 
 given to him by my father, that he might make the most 
 of it. At that period even-body tried this method 
 of making money. (< Bonaparte is attached to us, * 
 said my brother; (< he will get me an appointment. 
 All that I earn shall be for my mother and you ; but for 
 the present let us conceal from her what has happened; 
 she has no need of new afflictions. M 
 
 When the political troubles broke out, and my father 
 proposed to place his fortune beyond the reach of danger, 
 he spoke to my mother, in confidence, on the subject. 
 My mother received the communication in like manner, 
 without comprehending anything of the matter; only 
 at my father's death she made sure that, after the 
 payment of my sister's down.*, we should have a decent 
 fortune left; but as she had brought no dowry herself, 
 she did not expect any share in the division of the prop- 
 erty. <( My children, B said she to us, a I had nothing 
 when your father married me; to him I owe everything; 
 of course, all is yours. Only, w added she, with her win- 
 ning smile, holding out her arms to us, <( you will give 
 me a place by your fireside ? * 
 
 It was no easy matter to complete my mother's estab- 
 lishment. She would not have thought herself properly 
 lodged had she not possessed a number of accessories 
 unknown at the present day, notwithstanding the cata- 
 logue of gewgaws which people agree to call curiosities. 
 Removed to France at the conclusion of the reign of 
 Louis XV., my mother had begun a new existence 
 amid numberless luxuries, habits which had become 
 for her wants of a second nature. Never had the French 
 been more inventive than at that period; never had all 
 sorts of gratifications of sense been so multiplied, in 
 order to surround woman with their refined elegance. 
 We fancy that we have made improvements in this way, 
 and we are egregiously mistaken: a lady who had an 
 income of forty thousand livres fifty years ago lived 
 better than one at the present day who expends two 
 hundred thousand. All that she then had about her can- 
 xiot be enumerated : there was a profusion of charming 
 trifles, the very uses of which are lost, and for which we 
 have no substitutes.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 119 
 
 The establishment of a lady of fashion never com- 
 prised fewer than two femmes de cJuimbrc, and almost al- 
 ways a valet de chambre for indoor service. A bath was 
 indispensable, for an elegant woman did not pass two 
 days without bathing; and then there were perfumes in 
 abundance ; the finest cambrics, the most costly laces for 
 every season were on the toilet table, or in the amber- 
 scented baskets in which the articles requisite for the 
 toilet of a wealthy female were in the first instance de- 
 posited. This folly extended to everything. 
 
 The furnishing also constituted a material item in the 
 expenses of a woman. The apartments were expected 
 to be very cool, very fragrant with flowers in summer, 
 and very warm in winter. As soon as the cold weather 
 set in, Aubusson carpets, several inches thick, were laid 
 down. A lady, on retiring at night to her bedchamber, 
 found it warmed by a large fire ; long draperies fell 
 before the double windows; and the bed, surrounded by 
 thick and ample curtains, was an asylum where she 
 might prolong her night without danger of having her 
 slumbers broken by the return of day. 
 
 When my mother was settled in her new habitation 
 she took delight in arranging every object, and in fur- 
 nishing her bedroom and drawing-room according to her 
 own fancy. In vain did her upholsterer recommend 
 kerseymere and muslin; she told him that she did not 
 wish to look like the wife of a contractor to the Repub- 
 lic, who made up into furniture the bad cloth which he 
 had not been able to dispose of. 
 
 I recollect that long after this time much was said in 
 Paris of a house which Bertaud, I believe, had just fitted 
 up. It was, we were told, the wonder of wonders. 
 People went to see it without being known to the owner 
 of the house. My mother, who was annoyed by this, 
 one day told Admiral Magon, one of our intimate friends, 
 that she was determined to go and see the house in 
 question. The owner was his banker; the thing, there- 
 fore, was easy. We chose a day when the beautiful 
 mistress was absent, and the Admiral escorted us. I 
 was lost in astonishment; and I must confess that I 
 admired both the taste and arrangement of all I saw; 
 but my mother had no mercy. She looked round the 
 apartment for those things which constitute the charm
 
 120 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 of our dwellings, and which are strewn in orderly dis- 
 order over the furniture of the room. The value of 
 these objects ought to make you forgive their presence. 
 Thus a Chinese basket of ivory will contain female work. 
 Scissors and thimble will lie beside it. These must be 
 of gold, surrounded with enamel or fine pearls. <( Rich 
 smelling bottles, beautiful ne'ccssaires, ought all to be 
 here, w said my mother. <( Of course this room is never 
 inhabited. w 
 
 When we had reached home, I was astonished that, on 
 finding myself in our own convenient habitation, I did 
 not regret the fairy palace which I had just seen. As 
 for my mother, it was never possible to make her con- 
 fess that this house was an admirable thing. (< It is a 
 pretty knickknack, and that is all," she would reply. 
 But when she was told what it had cost, she was ready 
 to jump out of her easy-chair. 
 
 w I would fit up twenty houses like that," cried she, 
 <( and you should see what a difference there would be. 
 What matters it to luxury, ornament, and convenience, 
 to all those things indispensable in the furnishing and 
 fitting-up of a habitation, that the furniture of a salon, 
 in which you never live, should be of rosewood or 
 mahogany? Would it not be better if the money which 
 those armchairs have cost had been employed in giving 
 them a richer cover and a new shape, since they must 
 have one, and in rendering them more commodious, and 
 not likely to break one's arms ? B
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 My Mother's Mourning — Decline of Her Health — A Box at the 
 Feydeau Prescribed by the Physician — Bonaparte Accompanies My 
 Mother to the Play — Singular Overtures of Bonaparte to My 
 Mother — He Proposes Three Marriages between the Two Fami- 
 lies — My Mother Refuses to Marry Bonaparte — Stephanopoli, a 
 Relative of My Mother's — Sharp Altercation between My Mother 
 and Bonaparte — Definitive Rupture — Marriage of Bonaparte — 
 He Is Appointed to the Command of the Army of Italy. 
 
 My mother's mourning was deep: etiquette required 
 absolute solitude, which preyed daily more and 
 more upon her naturally delicate health. M. 
 Duchannois told her one day that, in the circumstances 
 in which she was placed, decorum might require her not 
 to go into company, but that she ought to take some 
 amusement. In consequence, he recommended her to 
 hire a box at one of the theaters, and to go to it in the 
 most profound incognito; she might listen to good music, 
 surrounded by friends; and their attentions, and her soul 
 wrapped in a soft lethargy, would cause her to forget her 
 griefs for a few hours at least. My mother accordingly 
 took a box at the Feydeau, where she passed an hour 
 or two every evening. Bonaparte never missed coming 
 thither. He was not fond of French music, and, to con- 
 fess the truth, the notes of Madame Scio and Gaveaux- 
 Bouche* were not calculated to give him a liking for it. 
 About this time Bonaparte had a strange conference 
 with my mother, so strange, indeed, that even to this 
 day I cannot suppress a smile whenever I think of it. 
 One day Bonaparte told my mother that he had to pro- 
 pose a marriage which should unite the two families. 
 <( It is, w added he, (< between Paulette and Permon. Per- 
 mon has some fortune. }> ( It was not then known that 
 we had found nothing at my father's death.) (< My sister 
 has nothing, but I am in a condition to obtain much for 
 those belonging to me, and I can get a good place for 
 her husband. This alliance would make me happy. 
 You know what a pretty girl my sister is. My mother 
 
 * He had a very wide mouth, and was so called to distinguish him 
 from Gavaudan.
 
 122 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUXOT 
 
 is your friend. Come, say 'Yes,' and the business shall 
 be settled. w My mother said neither yes nor no; she 
 replied that my brother was of age, that she should not 
 influence him either one way or the other, and that all 
 depended on his own will. 
 
 Bonaparte confessed that Permon was so remarkable a 
 young man that, though only twenty-five, he had 
 maturity and abilities which would qualify him for public 
 employments. Thus far what General Bonaparte said 
 was natural and suitable. It related to a match between 
 a young female of sixteen and a young man of twenty- 
 five. This young man was supposed to possess an income 
 of ten thousand livres; he had an agreeable person; 
 painted like Vernet, whose pupil he was; played on the 
 harp much better than Krumpholtz, his master; spoke 
 English, Italian, and modern Greek, as well as French; 
 wrote verses like an angel; transacted business with a 
 facility and intelligence which distinguished him among 
 those who were connected with him in the Army of the 
 South. Such was the man whom Bonaparte demanded 
 for his sister, a beautiful creature, it is true, and a good 
 girl, but nothing more. 
 
 To all that I have just said of my brother might be 
 added that he was the best of sons, exemplary in his 
 duties as a member of society, as well as in those of a 
 friend, a brother, and a kinsman. I shall perhaps be 
 charged with letting my heart run away with my pen, 
 and listening too much to its suggestions. No, I am not 
 swayed by prejudice; what I say of my brother is noth- 
 ing but the strictest truth. There are still left many of 
 his friends, of his relatives, to whom he was a great 
 benefactor; let them answer the appeal of such as have 
 not known him, and who wish to learn whether my 
 eulogy of him is true; and let them do it without being 
 restrained by that silly and ridiculous vanity which fre- 
 quently prevents people from acknowledging, w There is 
 the man to whom I owe everything! * 
 
 Such, then, was my brother when Bonaparte proposed 
 to my mother a match between him and Mademoiselle 
 Pauline Bonaparte, called by her family and all her 
 friends, ''Pretty Paulette." This proposal he followed 
 up by the plan of a second alliance between me and 
 Louis or Jerome. "Jerome is younger than Laurette,"
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 123 
 
 said my mother, laughing-. * Indeed, my dear Napoleon, 
 you are acting the high priest to-day; you are marrying 
 everybody, even in their teens. ■ 
 
 Bonaparte laughed too, but with an air of embarass- 
 ment. He admitted that when he got up that morning 
 a marriage-breeze had blown upon him; and, to prove it, 
 he added, kissing my mother's hand, that he had made up 
 his mind to ask her to commence the union of the two 
 families by a marriage between him and herself, as soon 
 as a regard to decency would permit. 
 
 My mother has frequently related to me this extraor- 
 dinary scene, so that I am as well acquainted with it as 
 if I had been the principal actress in it. She eyed Bona- 
 parte for some seconds with an astonishment bore 
 upon stupefaction ; and then burst into so hearty a laugh 
 that we heard her in the next room, where there 
 three or four of us. 
 
 Bonaparte was at first much vexed at this manner of 
 receiving a proposal which appeared to him quite natural. 
 My mother, who perceived it, hastened to explain her- 
 self, and told him that it was she, on the contrary, 
 in this affair played at least, in her own eyes, a perfectly 
 ridiculous part. 
 
 ■ My dear Napoleon, * said she, when she had done 
 laugh: ... let us talk seriously. You fancy you are 
 acquainted with my age. The truth is, you know 
 about it. I shall not tell it you, because it is one of my 
 little weaknesses. I shall merely say that I am old 
 enough to be not only your mother, but Joseph'.- 
 Spare me this kind of joke; it distresses me, coming 
 from you." 
 
 Bonaparte assured her, over and over again, that he 
 was serious; that the age of the woman whom he should 
 marry was indifferent to him, if, like herself, she did not 
 appear to be past thirty; that he had maturely considered 
 the proposal which he had just made to her; and he 
 added these very remarkable words: v I am determined 
 to marry. They want to give me a woman who is 
 charming, good-tempered, agreeable, and who belongs to 
 the Faubourg St. Germain. My Paris friends are in 
 favor of this match. My old friends dissuade me from 
 it. For my own part. I wish to marry, and what I pro- 
 pose to you suits me in many respects. Think abov.
 
 124 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 My mother broke off the conversation, telling him 
 laughingly, that for her own part she had no occasion 
 to think any further; but, as to what concerned my 
 brother, she would speak to him about it, and communi- 
 cate his answer on the Tuesday following — it was then 
 Saturday. She gave him her hand, and repeated, still 
 laughing, that though she had some pretensions, they 
 did not aspire so high as to conquer the heart of a man 
 of twenty-six, and that she hoped their friendship would 
 not be interrupted by this little affair. 
 
 (< At any rate, think of it,® said Bonaparte. 
 
 ""Well, well, I will think of it,* replied my mother, 
 laughing as heartily as before. 
 
 I was too young to be made acquainted with this con- 
 versation at the time when it occurred. It was not till 
 my marriage that my mother related to me the par- 
 ticulars here detailed. My brother made a note of this 
 singular affair. Had Bonaparte's overtures been accepted, 
 he would never have become what he afterward was. 
 
 When Junot heard of it he told us that the thing ap- 
 peared less extraordinary to him than to us. About the 
 4th of October Bonaparte had got himself appointed to 
 some committee of war: I know not what the appoint- 
 ment was, but it was no great thing. His plans, his 
 schemes, had all one object, one direction, which tended 
 toward the East. The name of Comnena might have a 
 powerful interest for an imagination that was eminently 
 creative; the name of Calomeros joined to that of Comnena 
 might be of great service to him. (< The great secret of 
 all these matches lay in that idea," thought Junot; and I 
 think so too. 
 
 A cousin of my mother, named Dimo Stephanopoli, 
 had shortly before arrived from Corsica, and applied to 
 her to assist him in obtaining employment and promo- 
 tion. This carries me back to a period of which I can- 
 not help having a disagreeable recollection, since it 
 reminds me of an unpleasant scene, which set Bonaparte 
 at variance forever with my mother — a circumstance 
 which I cannot forbear deploring whenever the conse- 
 quences of this circumstance, so simple in itself, occur 
 to my memory. 
 
 It was, as I have said, on a Saturday that Bonaparte 
 had the conversation which I have just detailed with my
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 125 
 
 mother. On the preceding Wednesday, when my mother 
 had a party to dinner, she had spoken to General Bona- 
 parte in behalf of her cousin Stephanopoli, begging that 
 he would get him admitted into the Guard of the Con- 
 vention. He was five feet nine inches high (French 
 measure) ; his head was rather too small for that tall 
 stature, but he had handsome features. In short, there 
 was certainly not a regiment but would have been glad 
 to make such an acquisition. This Bonaparte admitted 
 when my mother remarked it, on introducing her cousin 
 to him: he promised a speedy and, above all, a favorable 
 answer. 
 
 On Friday my mother asked the General if he had 
 thought of her recommendation. <( You cannot doubt it, }> 
 replied Bonaparte. (< I have the promise of the Minister 
 of War : there is but one step more to take, which I pur- 
 pose doing to-morrow, and then I will bring you the 
 commission. * 
 
 The next day was the unlucky Saturday. My mother 
 asked where was the commission ; (< for, w said she, a I 
 look upon it as mine. ® He answered under the influence 
 of what had just passed between them, and though there 
 was no asperity in his words, still, he did not appear to 
 be so well disposed as on the preceding day. 
 
 <( Napoleon, * said my mother laughingly, <( there are 
 two persons in you at this moment. Continue, I entreat 
 you, to be the man whom I love and esteem, and, above 
 all, do not let the other get the better of you." Bona- 
 parte was at the table at this moment by the side of my 
 mother. He frowned, and pushed his plate sharply from 
 him. <( Why be angry ? M said my mother mildly. 
 
 (< You mistake the real cause of my anger, M replied 
 Bonaparte. (< I am angry with myself. This is Quintidi, 
 and nothing done. But rely upon me for to-morrow." 
 Out of delicacy my mother did not insist upon that day, 
 though she had a good mind to do so. The same evening 
 she spoke to my brother on the subject of the morning's 
 conversation. My brother answered "No. Reasons 
 foreign to these memoirs prevented his accepting the 
 proposal. 
 
 On Monday morning General Bonaparte called to see 
 my mother: he was on horseback, and surrounded by a 
 numerous staff. He appeared in high spirits, and said a
 
 1=6 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUXOT 
 
 number of amiable and even flattering things to my 
 mother. That very morning Dimo Stephanopoli had 
 written his cousin a long and ridiculous letter (I beg his 
 pardon), in which he complained bitterly of the delay 
 of his appointment, which he seemed to lay to the charge 
 of my mother. At the moment when General Bonaparte 
 was kissing her hand, and praising its whiteness, she 
 snatched it from his with violence, and asked whether 
 the commission was at last made out. The General 
 replied that it was not, but that it was promised him 
 for the morrow. 
 
 This was an unlucky expression ; my mother would not 
 have been so much vexed by it if he had not twice 
 repeated it since the commencement of the affair. 
 ' What does this mean ? B she asked, contracting her two 
 little brows into a frown, and looking at Bonaparte with 
 sparkling eyes and flushed cheeks. H What does this 
 mean ? Is it a wager, is it a hoax, or is it ill-will ? In 
 that case it would have been much more simple to refuse 
 me at first. I dare say I should have found friends who 
 would have served me." 
 
 <( Nothing of the kind you have mentioned, Madame 
 Permon," replied Bonaparte; (< important business has 
 taken up every moment of my time. }> 
 
 (< Every moment of your time ! Don't tell me such ab- 
 surdities ! And what can be the important business 
 which prevents you from keeping your word ? Is this 
 the custom which you have nowadays adopted in your 
 new military code ? B 
 
 Bonaparte turned crimson, which he was not in the 
 habit of doing. (< You are rather too severe, Madame 
 Permon. w 
 
 " Not half severe enough. You want a good shake to 
 waken you from the dream into which the grandeurs of 
 your Republic have lulled you. 
 
 The conversation, which had at first been general, was 
 suspended, and the most profound silence prevailed ; both 
 of them were ruffled. Chauvet, who, owing to his friend- 
 ship for both, could do more than any other to restore 
 peace, made an attempt and addressed two or three 
 words to my mother; but she was in such a passion that 
 she did not hear what was said. She declared that K she 
 felt herself affronted. •
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 127 
 
 Twenty times had General Bonaparte given his word 
 (this is quite true) that the commission had been granted, 
 and that some trivial formality depending on himself 
 was the sole cause of the delay. She had explained to 
 him how important it was, for family reasons, that Dimo 
 Stephanopoli should have his commission. General Bona- 
 parte knew all this, and day after day, promise after 
 promise, the time had run away and nothing was done. 
 w Could an enemy have served me worse ? " continued my 
 mother, becoming more animated as she spoke. <( In 
 this manner he prevented the steps which I might other- 
 wise have taken. I trusted to him, in short, and B 
 
 (< You are too warm just now not to be unjust, Ma- 
 dame Permon," said General Bonaparte, taking up his hat 
 to go away. <( To-morrow I hope to find you more calm, 
 and consequently more reasonable." 
 
 Bonaparte approached my mother, and took her hand 
 to kiss it, but she was so irritated that she drew it from 
 him with violence. In this movement she hit him upon 
 the eye with such force as to give him pain. 
 
 "You cannot make reparation for what is past," said 
 she haughtily. a What is done, is done; with me words 
 are nothing, actions everything. But fare you well. 
 Recollect that if I be not a Corsican by family, I was 
 born in Corsica. " 
 
 <( The remembrance of that will always be agreeable 
 to me, Madame Panoria. But I have no apprehension 
 on that account. Give me, therefore, your hand, and let 
 us be reconciled." He advanced and whispered to my 
 mother, at the same time stooping to take her hand, 
 (( Those young folks are laughing at us. We look like 
 two children." 
 
 My mother drew back her hand, and folded her arms 
 with a disdainful smile. Bonaparte looked at her for a 
 moment, as if to solicit a change which he evidently 
 wished for. When he saw that she showed no disposi- 
 tion to relent, he made a motion, which was rather an 
 expression of impatience than a bow, and hastily with- 
 drew. 
 
 <( For God's sake," said Chauvet," don't part thus! Let 
 me call him back, Madame Permon, I entreat you. You 
 have hurt his feelings. It was wrong to talk to him in 
 that manner before his aids-de-camp. See how slowly
 
 i 2 8 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 he goes downstairs; he expects, I am certain, to be called 
 My mother's disposition was excellent, and she hail a:i 
 
 advantage that is very rare in a woman: when she was 
 in the wrong she WOUld admit it. But whether, at this 
 
 moment, her self-love was too deeply wounded, or whether 
 
 she actually thought she was not in the wrong on this 
 
 asion, she would not allow Chauvet to call hack Bona- 
 parte. 
 
 "See how obstinate he is on his side'" said my 
 mother. "lie is WTOng, but nothing would induce him 
 to recede a single Btep. Why, then, would you have me 
 
 take that retrograde step 5 " A servant presently came 
 to say that tin- General wished to speak with M. Chau- 
 vet. "Go, my dear Chauvet, M said my mother giving 
 
 him her hand; a gO. Do not condemn me; I am not 
 Manx- " 
 
 My brother was absent during this unfortunate scene. 
 \\,u\ he been there, 1 am Mire that it would not have 
 
 happened, or that he would have given a different turn 
 to the affair. When l rel ited tin- particulars to him in 
 the evening, by dei I my mother (tor she could not 
 
 vet talk <>f it without being in a passion), he was exceed- 
 ingly vexed. 
 
 1 know not whether it was the same day or the fol- 
 lowing that we saw I'Ysch. His disposition was kind, 
 mild, and extremely conciliating; he too was much grieved 
 at this quarrel between my mother and his nephew, and 
 
 endeavored to reconcile them; but there were two 
 
 obstacles, the more difficult to be removed inasmuch as 
 one of them was known only to mv mother and Bona- 
 parte, and the Other to himself alone. The latter was 
 haps the more important of the two. It arose, as 
 Chauvet had anticipated, from what he had Buffered ^n 
 
 finding himself treated like a schoolboy who had just left 
 
 Brienne, in the presence of ortieers who as yet km \v 
 but little about him. Had there been none present but 
 Junot, Chauvet, or some others, he would have been the 
 
 first to laugh at a thing which now severely mortified 
 
 him. 
 
 The other point, which had also ,i very active part in 
 the whole affair, was the state of ill humor and hostility 
 
 in which Bonaparte had b r since the preceding
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 129 
 
 Saturday. However, be this as it may, the rupture was 
 complete. We were several days without seeing him: he 
 then called one evening when he knew that we were at 
 theater, and at last he stayed away altogether. We 
 learned shortly afterward from his uncle and Chauvet 
 that he was going to marry Madame de Beauharnais, 
 and that he was appointed Commander-in-Chief of the 
 Army of Italy. We saw him once more before his de- 
 parture, on a distressing occasion. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 Recollections of Toulouse — M. de Regnier, Commandant — Introduc- 
 tion of M. de Geouffre to My Mother — Mutual Passion — Marriage of 
 M. de Geouffre and My Sister Cecile — Melancholy Presentiments of 
 My Sister — Her Death — Visit of Condolence Paid by Bonaparte to 
 My Mother — Destruction of Our Fortune — Comte de Perigord, Uncle 
 of M. de Talleyrand — Admirable Conduct of a Valet de Chambre 
 During the Reign of Terror — Death of Comte de Perigord — My 
 Brother Joins the Army of Italy — Decline of My Mother's Health — 
 Journey to the Waters of Cauterets — The Pyrenees. 
 
 I have mentioned the reasons which induced my mother 
 to entertain company during our residence at Tou- 
 louse. One day when she had invited several per- 
 sons, among whom was M. de Regnier, Commandant of 
 the place, one of the most assiduous of our friends, he 
 sent, about half an hour before dinner time, to excuse 
 himself. He wrote to my mother that <( one of his friends, 
 charged with a mission to him, had just arrived; that he 
 was obliged to do the honors of the staff of the place, 
 and could not leave him. M My mother's answer will easily 
 be guessed; she begged him to come and to bring his 
 friend along with him. 
 
 (< An Adjutant General, a friend of Regnier," said my 
 mother, (< that must be some old buffer like himself, who 
 will be very dull. Farewell to our plan of music, my 
 young friends w (my brother had just then leave of ab- 
 sence to come and pay us a short visit ) ; a but we have 
 one resource, and that is, to make him play at reversi. 
 An old officer of infantry is sure to know how to play 
 at cards — ay, and how to cheat, too. w 
 9
 
 130 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 My mother was the more surprised when she saw M. 
 de Regnier followed by a young man of genteel appear- 
 ance, having a handsome face, and the manners of very 
 good society, which at the period in question was an 
 uncommon thing. After dinner the music, so far from 
 being abandoned, was, on the contrary, carried into ex- 
 ecution at the request of M. de Geouffre, who was already 
 persuaded that none but celestial sounds could issue 
 from the mouth of my sister. 
 
 Since leaving the convent of the Dames de la Croix, 
 my sister had become a charming creature. Her features 
 were not regular when examined separately ; indeed, there 
 was nothing pleasing in them ; but they formed altogether 
 a whole so sweet, so graceful, so mush in harmony with 
 the rest of her person, that on seeing her it was im- 
 possible to help exclaiming, <( What a delightful girl!" 
 Large dark blue eyes, with long thick eyelashes, rosy 
 cheeks, teeth perfectly white, the finest auburn hair I 
 ever saw, a slender elegant figure — these advantages, which 
 are by no means exaggerated, greatly outweighed Cecile's 
 external defects, and caused you to overlook too wide a 
 mouth, too long a nose, and hands and arms too large 
 for her height. 
 
 But my sister had, moreover, what is invaluable in a 
 woman — namely, a charm diffused over her whole person 
 by an air of mild melancholy which rendered her adora- 
 ble. She possessed an excellent temper and good under- 
 standing. All these things combined to form a halo, which 
 enveloped that bright sweet face of sixteen, on which 
 you were quite surprised never to catch more than a 
 transient smile. Cecile would have been distinguished in 
 the world had it been fortunate enough to retain her. 
 
 The day on which M. de Geouffre was introduced was 
 one of her smiling days, as we called them. I see her 
 still, notwithstanding the many years that have since 
 fled, dressed as she was on that day. She wore a frock 
 of rose-colored crape, laced behind, showing to perfection 
 her slender waist, and floating around her like a roseate 
 cloud. The sleeves were tight, and trimmed at the bot- 
 tom with white blonde, forming ruffles. Her shoulders 
 and bosom, which were delicately fair, were seen through 
 a fichu of Chambery gauze, likewise trimmed with white 
 blonde. A pink ribbon passing through her hair formed
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 131 
 
 a bow on one side. On seeing- her thus attired, it was 
 impossible to avoid being struck by the graceful har- 
 mony between her bright youthful face and this costume, 
 equally bright and youthful. It made a deep impression 
 upon M. de Geouffre. In the evening we had music. My 
 sister, a pupil of Herrmann, was an excellent performer 
 on the piano; she played two duets with my brother: 
 she sang, and the evening passed away as by enchant- 
 ment. 
 
 M. de Geouffre was not proof against her charms. He 
 became so enamored of my sister that before he left our 
 house he felt that his future happiness depended on one 
 of its inmates. M. de Geouffre remained at Toulouse, 
 and forwarded his dispatches by an officer to the head- 
 quarters of General Dugommier, by whom he was sent. 
 He called upon us next day, and again the day after- 
 ward: my mother, who immediately perceived the drift 
 of his visits, dared not say anything, but she was uneasy.. 
 
 At length M. de Geouffre prevailed upon M. de Regnier 
 to speak for him, though the latter felt extreme repug'- 
 nance to do so, for he was acquainted with my father's 
 sentiments, and though my mother was infinitely more 
 moderate, yet M. de Regnier did not conceal from his 
 friend the certainty that there would be a tacit agreement 
 between them not to give their daughter to an officer of 
 the Republican army. As he had foreseen, my father's 
 first word was a refusal, as well as my mother's. 
 
 <( And what have you to object against him ? n said 
 Regnier; (( he is of a good family. I have proved to you 
 that he belongs to the Geouffres of the Limousin; several 
 of that family served in Champagne and Burgundy, and 
 have emigrated. He possesses a good fortune and a fine 
 estate near Brives-la-Gaillarde ; he holds a distinguished 
 rank for his age ; he is highly respected in the army, and 
 Dugommier promises to do great things for him. He is, 
 besides, a handsome man, which is no drawback in an 
 affair of marriage. Lastly, he is a man of sound under- 
 standing. Come, Madame Permon, be persuaded. 8 
 
 My mother admitted the truth of all this, but still said 
 No; nor did she change her mind. Soon after M. de 
 Geouffre arrived at Toulouse to take the command of the 
 military division. It was General Dugommier who, out 
 of friendship for him, and wishing to facilitate his mar-
 
 132 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 riage, thus placed him in a situation to follow up his suit 
 more effectually. Accordingly, when he was at Toulouse, 
 his personal solicitations were joined to those of M. de 
 Regnier. He also interested in his behalf a family with 
 whom we were very intimate, that of Peytes de Mon- 
 cabrie. 
 
 Madame de Moncabrie was the first to project a plan 
 which nobody had thought of, how strange soever it may 
 appear, excepting perhaps M. de Geouffre — still, it was 
 nothing more than conjecture. This excellent woman 
 wrote immediately to Madame de St. Ange, who came 
 without delay. She said nothing to my mother, but 
 watched Cecile. She soon perceived that my sister was 
 attacked by a nervous disease which might prove fatal. 
 
 (( Panoria, M said she one morning to my mother, <( when 
 do you marry Cecile ? w <( What a question ! M replied my 
 mother. (< You know perfectly well that I have refused. }> 
 (( Have you noticed the girl? have you seen how she is 
 altered? • do you know that you are accountable for what 
 she suffers ? B <( Kalli," said my mother, who was strongly 
 excited, (< I leave you to manage your family as you 
 please ; let me beg you not to interfere with mine. ® (< Is 
 that the tone you assume? Well, then, I will tell you, 
 with my habitual bluntness, that you are not a good 
 mother. ® (< Kalli ! 8 (< Yes, you are not a good mother. 
 Send for your daughter; ask Loulou how her sister 
 passes the night, and you will alter your tone a little. w 
 
 I was questioned, and obliged to confess that my sister 
 wept a great deal; but she had so strictly forbidden me 
 to mention it that I had been forced to be silent. My 
 mother burst into tears in her turn: my sister was 
 called. The fact is, that the poor girl loved as well as 
 she was loved, but she dared not say a word about it 
 before my mother, of whom she was exceedingly afraid, 
 because, though a good mother, she was to her a very 
 severe one. 
 
 My father was too ill to be talked to on the subject; 
 my brother was far from us; I was too young for such 
 a topic of conversation. Madame de Moncabrie was, in 
 her virtuous kindness, the angel who guessed the secret 
 that would ultimately have killed the poor girl. w You 
 wish for this marriage?" said my mother: "well, then, 
 it shall take place. H Accordingly, in a month, my sister,
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 133 
 
 having become Madame de Geouffre, was settled at the 
 Hotel Spinola, the headquarters of the military division 
 which her husband commanded. 
 
 It is difficult to conceive a happiness more complete 
 than that of my sister during the first months of her 
 marriage. She was formed to feel it, and accordingly 
 she fully enjoyed it. It was disturbed by one thing only, 
 and that was the idea that her husband might be called 
 from her into the field. It was to no purpose to tell her 
 that the elevated rank which he held he owed solely to 
 his presence in the field of battle, and to several wounds 
 from which he had recovered; she replied to it all by 
 tears only, and begged in a timid voice that her hus- 
 band Would send in his resignation. He demonstrated 
 to her with a smile that the thing was impossible; that 
 his army was engaged in active warfare, and that it 
 would be compromising his honor. 
 
 At length peace between France and Spain was signed, 
 and my sister, who was about to become a mother, made 
 a fresh attempt, which was more successful. Her hus- 
 band, who was passionately fond of her, solicited his 
 dismissal with as much ardor as at that time others 
 solicited appointments. All his friends dissuaded him 
 from this step, which, in fact, blasted his future pros- 
 pects. It was from this same Army of the Eastern 
 Pyrenees that, a few months afterward, Bonaparte 
 selected the multitude of superior officers who formed 
 the nucleus of the Army of Italy, and all of whom were 
 comrades of my brother-in-law. Such were Augereau, 
 Lanusse, Lannes, Marbot, Bessieres, Duphot, Clausel, 
 etc. His destiny would not have been different from 
 theirs; but he yielded to the entreaties of his wife, and 
 they retired to their estate at Objat, near Brives-la- 
 Gaillarde. Thus, at the age of only twenty-four, he 
 returned to civil life, and shut himself out forever from 
 a career which he had so brilliantly begun. 
 
 When my sister left Toulouse she was five months ad- 
 vanced in pregnancy. At her departure she asked my 
 mother's blessing in the most affecting manner. She felt 
 convinced, she said, that she should not survive her ac- 
 couchement. Her presentiment was, alas! but too well 
 founded. My sister was brought to bed toward the end 
 of January, 1795, soon after the death of my father,
 
 i 3 4 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 My brother-in-law had communicated to us this event, 
 which is always attended with apprehensions for a young 
 wife who is confined for the first time, with a joy pro- 
 portionate to his happiness. Cecile had given him a fine 
 boy, and intended to nurse him herself. <( My wife is so 
 well, 8 wrote M. de Geouffre, "that she is already talk- 
 ing about carrying her Adolphe to her mother to receive 
 her blessing. She is more charming than ever, with a 
 color like that of a rose. You may conceive, my dear 
 mamma, the intense joy of all around her, so dearly is 
 she loved." The rest of the letter contained the par- 
 ticulars of the event, which had been fortunate in every 
 respect. It took place on the 23d, and the letter reached 
 us on the 27th of January. 
 
 On the 1st of February my mother and I were with 
 my brother, who had the second floor to himself. He 
 had caught a violent cold, and we had dined in his room, 
 that he might not expose himself to the cold air. My 
 mother -was seated on his sofa: she had placed my 
 brother in a large easy chair, and was laughing like a 
 child at the thought that, if my brother was married, as 
 she wished him to be within six months ( she had a very 
 good match in view for him), I might also be some 
 time afterward. <( Now the game is begun," said she, 
 <( I see no reason why I may not be grandmother to 
 twenty or thirty children. w At length she ceased laugh- 
 ing. <( Cecile must be a charming young mother," said 
 she with emotion ; <( I should like to see her in her new 
 functions. " 
 
 My mother was very changeable in her impressions. 
 When talking of herself as a grandmother, the idea had 
 tickled her so much that she had laughed till she cried. 
 But the moment her imagination presented to her affec- 
 tionate soul the picture of the infant who had made her 
 a grandmother, pressed to the bosom of her daughter, 
 and imbibing life at that source, her eyes ran over, and 
 she fell into a kind of reverie, which my brother and I 
 took good care not to interrupt. It was nine o'clock: all 
 was quiet, for at that period equipages were rare in 
 Paris, and our quarter, independently of that, was then 
 very lonely. We all three kept silence, which was 
 broken only by a soft and monotonous tune, which my 
 .her hummed in a low tone: you would have supposed
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 135 
 
 that she was lulling an infant to sleep. She was think- 
 ing of Cecile and her little Adolphe. 
 
 All at once there was a knock at the gate, given with 
 such force as to make us start. My brother and I burst 
 out into a laugh. "That knock makes me ill, 8 said my 
 mother, pressing her hand to her forehead. (< What un- 
 mannerly person can be knocking in that way at this 
 time of night ? w We heard the gate shut, and presently 
 heavy steps on the pavement. My brother rang the bell, 
 and a letter which the postman had just brought was 
 put into his hand. "Ah!" said Albert, (( news from 
 Cecile! It is from Brives, and Geouffre's handwriting. M 
 <c Whom can he have lost ? w I exclaimed, the black seal 
 of the letter having caught my eye. In asking this 
 question, to which I attached no importance, I raised my 
 eyes to my brother: he was pale and excessively agitated. 
 <( What says Geouffre in that letter ? w said my mother, 
 rising and going up to my brother, whose sudden emo- 
 tion revealed to her a disaster. (< My sister has been ill, 
 but she is better now," replied Albert, in a tremulous 
 tone. My mother snatched the letter, cast her eyes on 
 it, gave a frightful shriek, and sank upon her knees. 
 My poor sister was dead! 
 
 None can form any conception of our anguish but those 
 who have lost objects whom they dearly loved in a man- 
 ner equally unexpected: neither can language describe or 
 express it. My mother was very ill for several days. 
 The death of my sister would at any time have deeply 
 afflicted her; but at the moment when she had become a 
 mother, at the moment when the tomb had scarcely closed 
 over our father! And then that mirth, those songs, amidst 
 which this death had been announced ! Poor mother ! she 
 was unhappy, very unhappy; for to all these causes of 
 grief was superadded another, which my brother and I 
 had alone been acquainted with, and which wrung her 
 heart when it came to her knowledge. 
 
 Cecile was regretted by all who knew her. The family 
 into which she had been adopted, her mother-in-law, her 
 father-in-law, mourned her like ourselves. She was gentle 
 and pious as an angel ; endowed with talents, virtues, graces 
 — those attractive charms which are not to be imitated, 
 and which win everybody's love. Bonaparte sent the 
 very next day after we heard of this new calamity which
 
 1 36 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUXOT 
 
 had befallen my mother, and called himself to see her. 
 He talked to her in a tone of the sincerest friendship. 
 My mother was so overwhelmed that she could scarcely pre- 
 vail upon herself to admit him. He set out immediately 
 afterward for Italy. He was already married to Madame 
 de Beauharnais. 
 
 My brother-in-law came almost immediately to Paris. 
 His interview with us was agonizing. My mother felt 
 her misfortune still more keenly when she saw M. de 
 Geouffre. She said to me, when going to bed at night, 
 that perhaps she might not be able to see him again the 
 next day. His presence reminded her of the time when 
 she had withstood all solicitations to unite him to my 
 sister. Cecile loved him, and my mother exclaimed, with 
 tears, (< Poor Cecile ! thy life was so short, and I have 
 abridged it of six months' happiness! ft 
 
 M. de Geouffre did not remain long with us. He re- 
 turned to the Limousin, whither he was recalled by the 
 only interest that was left him. He was impatient to be 
 again with his child, whom he had consigned to the care 
 of his mother. On taking leave of him we made him 
 promise to bring Adolphe to us very soon. 
 
 We had been obliged to apprise my mother that our 
 situation was no longer such as she might suppose it to 
 be. The blow was less painful than I had apprehended. 
 There were in her heart so many bleeding wounds that 
 it was scarcely affected by matters of that kind. She was 
 perfectly sensible of the necessity of making retrench- 
 ments in our household, which had been kept up on too 
 expensive a scale for our almost ruined fortune. 
 
 My brother, who thought only of our welfare, without 
 caring about himself, resolved to turn his attention to 
 commerce, and had the good luck to succeed in his first 
 speculations. He was about to devote himself entirely to 
 this career, but was afraid to enter into an engagement 
 which would have bound him for fifteen years. He 
 would have been obliged to go to India, to expatriate 
 himself, and leave us without protection. All this de- 
 terred him. He thanked our friend Magon, who had 
 procured him this chance of making his fortune, and con- 
 fined himself to what he was then doing. 
 
 My mother had again met with some old friends. The 
 prisons were open ever since the downfall of the Direc-
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 137 
 
 torial regime, and people began to breathe with more 
 freedom. We had again fallen in with persons to whom 
 we had bidden a painful adieu. This produced a singular 
 impression, a mixture of delight and uneasiness; and it 
 was a long time before we could enjoy the satisfaction 
 of seeing them again at liberty. But how was this satis- 
 faction embittered in regard to many of them! Among 
 these was the dearest of my mother's friends, he whom 
 I loved in my childhood as one loves a grandfather — I 
 mean the Comte de Perigord. Having escaped the san- 
 guinary proscriptions, he returned to society without 
 happiness, without joy. He was already far advanced in 
 years, ailing, afflicted with gout, wholly destitute of for- 
 tune, and absolutely isolated. His two sons had emigrated. 
 His daughter, the Duchesse de Mailly, was dead: there 
 were left behind only a few friends as unfortunate as 
 himself, and whose deplorable situation prevented them 
 from rendering him any assistance.* 
 
 When we first saw him again my mother could not 
 help starting with sad surprise. So great was the change 
 that the eye of friendship could scarcely recognize him. 
 There was the same kindness in his tone, but he was no 
 longer the same: his eye was dim, and it was evident 
 that the springs of life were worn out. 
 
 How could I say that he was alone! how could I have 
 forgotten a man as noble as any titled hero, devoting 
 himself to his master's service, and saving his life by 
 his admirable management ! The Comte de Perigord had 
 in his household a valet named Beaulieu. This man had 
 always been an excellent servant ; he proved that interest 
 had not been his stimulus. From the moment that his 
 master was apprehended all his attention was directed to 
 him. He carried to him whatever he thought would be 
 good for or agreeable to him. In short his devotedness 
 was entire and exclusive. 
 
 The Comte de Perigord. like all the innocent persons 
 who were then thrown into prison, was persuaded that 
 by wearying the Committee of Public Safety by petitions 
 he should obtain prompt and complete justice. Nothing 
 could be more false than this reasoning, as Beaulieu 
 
 * From this number must be excepted the Comte de Montchenu, 
 who, having preserved his fortune, did for Comte de Perigord all that 
 devoted attachment can do for a needy friend.
 
 i 3 8 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUXOT 
 
 learned from one of the relatives of the man in whose 
 house Robespierre lodged. Repeated petitions occasioned 
 the death of most of the prisoners. In many instances, 
 the writer had never been thought of. The first petition 
 produced ill-humor; the second aggravated it; and very 
 frequently the wretches brought the poor victims to trial 
 to avoid the annoyance of a third petition. 
 
 Beaulieu, on hearing of this mode of rendering jus- 
 tice, determined that his master should not obtain it in 
 that manner. Now, poor Comte de Perigord was one of 
 the very persons who cherished the conviction that they 
 could get out of prison only by dint of importunity. In 
 consequence, a petition was daily addressed either to ce 
 bon Monsieur de Robespierre, or to cet excellent Monsieur 
 de Collot-d'Herbois, or again to Monsieur Fotiquicr- 
 Tinville. <( How very odd it is ! w at length exclaimed 
 Comte de Perigord, w nobody answers me. I cannot 
 understand it. 39 
 
 There was a very good reason why his petitions re- 
 mained unanswered. Beaulieu threw them all into the 
 fire. In this manner he caused his master to be forgot- 
 ten. He bribed the turnkeys handsomely; and, then, as 
 soon as the Comte de Perigord began to be known in 
 one prison he obtained his removal to another. In short, 
 a son could not have shown a more affectionate and, 
 above all, a more active solicitude for his father. When 
 he had the good fortune to recover his liberty, M. de 
 Perigord went to lodge at the house of a friend, M. de 
 Montchenu. Beaulieu was still about him, bestowing on 
 him the most delicate attentions and sacrificing for this 
 purpose all that he had. 
 
 As a proof of the kind disposition of M. de Perigord, 
 one of his servants in livery, a class of domestics whose 
 sentiments are in general less honorable and less ele- 
 vated, on hearing that his master was again out of 
 prison, went and offered him his services. This man's 
 name was Boisvert. I know not what became of him or 
 Beaulieu at the death of M. de Perigord, which happened 
 shortly after his liberation; but I hope that the Prince 
 de Chalais has duly provided for them ; merit so extraor- 
 dinary has a right to be rewarded. 
 
 The Comte de Perigord had a clubfoot; I do not recol- 
 lect whether it was so from birth, or the consequence
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 139 
 
 of a hurt; but there are reasons to believe it was a 
 family defect. He came every Thursday to spend nearly 
 the whole of the day with us, and this was sure to give 
 rise to a smart altercation between him and Beaulieu. 
 He insisted upon coming - on foot; Beaulieu would not 
 let him, and told him with truth that he could not. His 
 infirmity, in fact, prevented him from walking. He suf- 
 fered great pain. 
 
 One day he received a letter from M. de Chalais, who 
 was then in England. He told his father that he was 
 starving, that the emigrants in England were reduced 
 to the extremity of want, and that he was completely 
 wretched. M. de Perigord happened to dine at my 
 mother's on the very day when this letter arrived. The 
 change which it had wrought in him was striking; he 
 had persuaded himself that the account of his son's 
 misery was literally true. During the whole dinner he 
 could not help repeating, <( Good God ! they are perish- 
 ing with hunger! " and the viands remained untouched 
 upon his plate. 
 
 At length several persons urged that this could not be 
 possible, since he knew himself that M. de Chalais had 
 carried resources away with him. (< He may have lost 
 them," said the poor father. The very next day he 
 learned to a certainty, from a person who had returned 
 to France (for there were some who had returned so 
 early), that his son was still rich; at any rate that he pos- 
 sessed property which placed him beyond the reach of 
 want. "The emigrants are not all so well off as he is," 
 said M. de N. 
 
 The Comte de Perigord was more easy, but a blow 
 had been given to a constitution worn out by the four 
 years of revolution which had elapsed. The death of 
 the King and Queen, the captivity of the young King 
 and the Princess, the misfortunes of the monarchy, 
 which had affected him as family calamities, all this 
 work of destruction had inflicted a mortal stroke; the 
 least shock, therefore, was sufficient to put an end to 
 him. Eight days afterward the place which he occupied 
 at our table was vacant, and two days later he was no 
 more. 
 
 His death was a new calamity for my mother; she fell 
 ill. Her lungs were affected. Sleeplessness, an obstinate
 
 140 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUXOT 
 
 cough, slight fever, and other alarming symptoms, induced 
 her to consult a physician ; she was ordered to the waters 
 of Cauterets. 
 
 Meanwhile my brother received a letter which was 
 destined to produce a great change in our situation. 
 He was summoned to Italy to take upon him adminis- 
 trative functions. I am sure that Bonaparte was no 
 stranger to this appointment, though he appeared to have 
 nothing to do with it. 
 
 The parting was painful. So many misfortunes had 
 burst upon us, so many wounds had been inflicted on 
 the heart of my poor mother, that she dreaded every- 
 thing. She was on the point of begging my brother 
 not to leave her. Had she been alone he would, no 
 doubt, not have done so. But no sooner did her eyes 
 rest upon me than she felt that it was my brother's duty 
 to perform the promise which he had made to my father 
 on his deathbed. My mother therefore consented to his 
 departure. 
 
 I was left alone to attend her; and, notwithstanding 
 my youth, I was also charged with the management of 
 all her concerns. <c God will give you the strength and 
 judgment necessary to enable you to perform your noble 
 task, my dear girl, w said my brother to me, clasping me 
 in his arms at the moment of his departure. <( Have con- 
 fidence in God, confidence in yourself, and all will go on 
 well. I will often write to you; and you must inform 
 me of everything. Whenever my mother shall express a 
 wish which the means I leave you are inadequate to 
 gratify, write to me immediately, and that God in whom 
 I put great faith will not forsake two children whose sole 
 aim is the happiness of their mother. w 
 
 My brother proceeded to his destination, and we, on 
 our part, set out for the Pyrenees. At a later period I 
 revisited those beautiful mountains. I skirted and crossed 
 their long chain; but it was not till my third journey 
 to Cauterets that I could indulge my ardent wish to ex- 
 plore the mountains which I saw before me. Those noble 
 pine forests which encircle, as it were, the Vignemale, 
 the loftiest of the French Pyrenees, beheld me pursuing 
 alone the tracks trodden by the caprice of pedestrians.* 
 
 * Queen Hortense made the same tour the year before; her journey 
 has no resemblance to mine. My guides lost their way ; but though her
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 141 
 
 La Cerisay, Maourat, le Pont d'Espagne, the Lac de 
 Gaube, and even Esplemousse, were the favorite points 
 of the excursion which I took with my mother, not on 
 foot (for she was unable to walk), but in the odd vehicle 
 of the country. It is a kind of sedan, formed by a small 
 straw stool, to which are attached two strong poles, and 
 which is covered with white cloth, supported by three 
 very slight hoops; and a small piece of wood, two inches 
 broad, for the feet to rest upon, is attached by two bits 
 of pack thread. When you are seated in this species of 
 cage, two sturdy mountaineers, hawk-eyed and chamois- 
 footed, carry you off with an agility that is at first 
 alarming. There is something romantic in the velocity 
 with which you are hurried along the brink of a dark 
 precipice, the depth of which the eye cannot measure, or 
 in an ascent not less rapid through an ocean of clouds 
 to which the sun communicates every shade of crimson 
 and purple. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 Our Return to Paris — The Emigrants — Sketches of Parisian Society — 
 Public Balls and Well-Known Characters — Ball at the Thelusson 
 Hotel — Madame de D. — M. d'Hautefort — Madame Bonaparte — 
 Madame Tallien — Madame Hamelin. 
 
 My mother's health was nearly re-established when we 
 returned from the waters. Her grief, too, was much 
 softened by change of scene, and still more by the 
 hope of again meeting at Paris a great number of inti- 
 mate acquaintances commonly called friends, and who, 
 though not real friends, gave a peculiar charm to the 
 commerce of life. This charm is unknown to the society 
 of the present day, which is become harsh and ill-natured ; 
 none will admit that in the daily intercourse of life each 
 ought to furnish his contingent of complaisance and affa- 
 bility. Accordingly, we now see none of those assem- 
 blages of forty or fifty persons meeting daily at the houses 
 of five or six of their number. 
 
 Independently of the pleasures which this way of liv- 
 
 tour was not attended with perilous risks like mine, she presented her 
 guides with oa gold medal, inscribed Voyage au Vignemale.
 
 i 4 2 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 ing afforded, more important advantages resulted from 
 it. A person who possessed no influence always found a 
 support in the company to which he belonged. If you 
 were not swayed by a feeling of good nature, you were 
 afraid of meeting every day a person whom you had re- 
 fused to oblige ; you would have seen a discontented face. 
 It was therefore obligatory on him who had it in his power 
 to oblige those about him. I admit that then, as still, 
 there existed abuses, and that many of them originated 
 in favor; but I will ask if, under a form more rude, more 
 uncertain for the parties concerned, less agreeable in its 
 results, there are not at this day, as there were at the 
 time of which I am speaking, children of favoritism and 
 immense abuses of power. If I had time to throw away 
 I could make out a fine list of obscure names which the 
 country knows only from their being inserted in patents 
 and grants of pensions. 
 
 Be this as it may, when my mother heard of the re- 
 turn of the greater part of her acquaintances her joy was 
 extreme. France then wore the appearance of tranquillity, 
 and the emigrants returned in crowds with a confidence 
 which proved very fatal to them a few months later ( in 
 Fructidor), but which seemed at that time to be per- 
 fectly well founded. The enchantment of the women, es- 
 pecially, was quite infectious. At length they again 
 beheld that dear native country, beautiful France, the 
 remembrance of which imparts double bitterness to every 
 land of exile, how hospitable soever it may be. 
 
 I recollect that at the first meeting between my mother 
 and Madame Martois, with whom she had been inti- 
 mately acquainted, that lady (who had been but two 
 days in Paris, and was still quite overcome with joy at 
 the mere sight of the Barriers) threw herself into my 
 mother's arms, burst into tears, and was more than a 
 quarter of an hour before she could overcome her emo- 
 tion. Her daughter told us that the same thing occurred 
 with all the friends whom she again met; in this there 
 was on her part neither affectation nor acting; it pro- 
 ceeded from an ardent soul, which enjoyed in its pleni- 
 tude all the happiness attached to the term native 
 country. But how many disappointments awaited the 
 unhappy exiles on their return to their native land! Pov- 
 erty, isolation, death, were the lot of most of them.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 143 
 
 One of the most painful situations, and to which I was 
 frequently witness, arose from the diversity of shades 
 of opinion. This produced discord in the most united 
 families. The destruction of principles had led, as a nat- 
 ural consequence, to one of a similar nature in the most 
 ordinary habits of life. Thus all those delightful reun- 
 ions which formerly constituted the charm of intimate 
 acquaintance no longer existed, or were poisoned by pol- 
 itics, which engendered contradiction, anger, or quarrels, 
 frequently terminating in ruptures between husband and 
 wife, brother and sister, or father and son. 
 
 Private individuals were afraid of appearing wealthy 
 by receiving company habitually, and they contented 
 themselves with frequenting public assemblages where, 
 at that time, the best society was to be found. It would 
 scarcely be believed at the present day that the most 
 elegant women went to dance at the Thelusson * and 
 the Richelieu f balls; but persons of all opinions, of all 
 castes, were there intermingled, and laughed and danced 
 together in the utmost harmony. 
 
 One day at the Thelusson ball a droll adventure befell 
 Madame de D., who sometimes took her daughter with her. 
 
 Madame de D. had arrived very late. The great cir- 
 cular room was quite full, and it was impossible to find 
 two places. Nevertheless, by dint of elbowing and en- 
 treaties, these ladies penetrated to the center of the room. 
 Madame de D., who was not of an absolutely timid char- 
 acter, looked about on all sides to see if she could at 
 least discover one seat, when her eyes encountered a 
 young and charming face, surrounded by a profusion of 
 light hair with a pair of large dark blue eyes, and ex- 
 hibiting altogether the image of the most graceful of 
 sylphs. This young female was conducted back to her 
 seat by M. de Trenis, which proved that she danced 
 well; for M. de Trenis invited none to the honor of be- 
 ing his partners but such as deserved the character of 
 
 GOOD DANCERS. 
 
 The graceful creature after courtesying with a blush 
 to the Vestris of the ballroom, sat down by the side of 
 
 *At the Hotel Thelusson, at the extremity of the Rue Cerutti, facing 
 the Boulevard, there was at that time an immense arcade. Murat pur- 
 chased it during the Consulate. 
 
 f Held in like manner at the Hotel Richelieu.
 
 144 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUXOT 
 
 a female who appeared to be her elder sister, and whose 
 elegant dress excited the notice and envy of all the 
 women at the ball. <( "Who are those persons ? B said 
 Madame de D., to the old Marquis d'Hautefort, who es- 
 corted her. (< What ! is it possible that you do not recognize 
 the Viscountess Beauharnais ? It is she and her daugh- 
 ter. She is now Madame Bonaparte.* But stay, there is 
 a vacant place by her; come and sit down; you may re- 
 new your acquaintance with her. w 
 
 Madame de D., without making any reply, took the 
 arm of M. d'Hautefort, and drew him, whether he would 
 or not, into one of the little saloons which preceded the 
 great rotunda. (( Are you mad ? w said she to him, when 
 they had reached the room. <( A pretty place, truly, by 
 the side of Madame Bonaparte! Ernestine would of 
 course have been obliged to make acquaintance with her 
 daughter. Why, Marquis, you must have lost your wits. w 
 <( No, 'faith! What harm can there be in Ernestine's 
 making acquaintance, or even forming a close friendship 
 with Mademoiselle Hortense de Beauharnais ? She is a 
 charming girl, sweet-tempered, amiable. B <( What is all 
 that to me! I will never connect myself with such per- 
 sons. I do not like people who disgrace their misfortunes. w 
 M. d'Hautefort shrugged his shoulders and held his 
 tongue. 
 
 <( Eh ! mon Dieu ! Who is that beautiful woman ? * in- 
 quired Madame de D., pointing to a female who entered 
 the ballroom, and on whom all eyes were instantly fixed. 
 This lady was above the middle height, but a perfect 
 harmony in her whole person took away all appearance 
 of the awkwardness of too lofty a stature. It was the 
 Venus of the Capitol, but still more beautiful than the 
 work of Phidias; for you perceived in her the same per- 
 fection of features, the same symmetry in arms, hands, 
 and feet, and the whole animated by a benevolent ex- 
 pression, a reflection of the magic mirror of the soul, 
 which indicated all that there was in that soul, and this 
 was kindness. 
 
 Her dress did not contribute to heighten her beauty, 
 for it consisted of a plain robe of India muslin, with 
 
 * At this period Madame Bonaparte was not much known in the 
 world, nor had she been presented at the Court of Marie Antoinette. 
 The real fact was, that Madame de D. did not know her.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 145 
 
 folds in the antique style, and fastened by a cameo on 
 each shoulder; a gold belt encircled her waist, and was 
 likewise fastened by a cameo; a broad gold bracelet con- 
 fined her sleeve considerably above the elbow; her hair, 
 of a glossy black, was short, and curled all round her 
 head, in the fashion then called a la Titus ; over her 
 fair and finely-turned shoulders was thrown a superb red 
 cashmere shawl, an article at that time very rare and in 
 great request. She disposed it around her in a manner 
 at once graceful and picturesque, and formed altogether 
 a most enchanting figure. 
 
 "That is Madame Tallien,"* said M. d'Hautefort to 
 Madame de D. (< Madame Tallien ! B exclaimed she. 
 <( Good God ! how could you bring me to such a place, 
 my dear friend ? w <( I defy you to find in all Paris a 
 place where better company is brought together. w He 
 then muttered some of the civil things which he had at 
 the service of those who displeased him. 
 
 At this moment a very strong scent of attar of roses 
 suddenly pervaded the apartment. A crowd of young 
 men, of the class then called incroyables, rushed toward 
 the door to meet a young lady who had but just arrived, 
 though it was exceedingly late. Her figure was not good, 
 but her little feet danced to admiration. She was dark, 
 but her black eyes sparkled with expression. Her face 
 beamed with intelligence, and expressed at the same 
 time all the kindness of the simplest person. She was a 
 good friend, and the most amusing of women. 
 
 In short, she pleased; she was a toast of the day. All 
 the remarkable men surrounded her as soon as she ap- 
 peared. M. Charles Dupaty, M. de Trenis, and M. 
 Lafitte, immediately asked her to dance with them; she 
 answered each with an expression of good-humor and 
 intelligence, smiling in such a manner as to exhibit her 
 ivory teeth ; she continued to advance, shedding fragrance 
 throughout the whole room. 
 
 Madame de D., who was annoyed by the perfume, and 
 who, like all busybodies, found fault with what others 
 liked, began to fidget about on the bench upon which 
 she had found a seat, and at length said aloud, a Upon 
 
 * 1 have lived at Bordeaux ; I have had friends who owed their 
 lives to Madame Tallien. I have been told all the good she has done, 
 and I cannot say too much on that subject. 
 10
 
 1 46 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUXOT 
 
 my word. I think that must be either Fargeon's wife or 
 his daughter.* 'Tis enough to make the strongest man 
 faint. w <( It is Madame Hamelin, w said M. d'Hautefort. 
 
 Next day he told us that nothing had amused him 
 more that evening than being in attendance on Madame 
 de D., and having to name the persons who were real 
 bugbears to her. <( Madame Hamelin!" she exclaimed — 
 <( Madame Hamelin! Come, Ernestine, n added she, in a 
 voice tremulous with anger, (< put on your palatine, and 
 let us go. w All that could be said served only to hasten 
 her departure. (< And that Marquis, B repeated she, in a 
 tone of indignation, ( ' to assure me that I should here 
 meet with my former society ! Yes, indeed ; for this hour 
 past I have been falling out of the frying pan into the 
 fire. Come, my dear, let us go. n 
 
 This scene passed a few paces from the bench on which 
 my mother and I were sitting. We were well acquainted 
 with the Marquis d'Hautefort, who was very satirical, 
 and who frequently made us laugh by the account of 
 his adventures at this ball. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 The Army of Italy — Triumphs of Bonaparte — My Brother at Massa- 
 Carrara — Lucien-Brutus and Saint Maximin-Marathon — Lucien 
 Bonaparte and Christine Boyer — Excursion to Versailles — Leoben 
 and Campo-Formio — Adventures of My Brother — Rivalship of 
 Lannes and My Brother — Elopement of Madame Felice — 
 General Lannes and M. Felice — Bonaparte at Paris and General 
 Enthusiasm — Hatred of the Directory for Bonaparte — Ball at 
 M. de Talleyrand's. 
 
 The Army of Italy surprised us every day by the 
 prodigies communicated in its bulletins. The 
 Directory, which disliked General Bonaparte, would 
 fain have thrown a veil over the glory of the young 
 hero; but the country, which he had saved from Aus- 
 trian invasion, the soldiers, whom he led to victory, had 
 
 * Fargeon was a celebrated perfumer, before the Revolution. His 
 son, who succeeded him, and who lives in the Rue de Roule, is also 
 eminent in the same line of business.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 147 
 
 thousands of voices to proclaim it, and the only resource 
 left to the ridiculous Government which we had been 
 silly enough to give ourselves, was to injure him whom 
 it would gladly have thrown down after it had exalted 
 him. 
 
 My brother was then in Italy; he had repaired to 
 headquarters, and Bonaparte had been most kind to him : 
 my brother had carried with him a letter of recommen- 
 dation from Joseph Bonaparte. 
 
 <( What occasion is there for this letter ? w said the 
 General. (< Whence arises so great a distrust of your- 
 self ? B continued he, looking more seriously at Albert. 
 My brother replied that the slight altercation which had 
 occurred between him and my mother had caused him 
 to fear that the General would bear it in mind. C( You 
 are mistaken, }> said Bonaparte; "that scene was immedi- 
 ately effaced from my memory. I apprehend, indeed, 
 that Madame Permon bears a much stronger grudge on 
 account of it than I do; and that is but natural, w added 
 he, laughing ; (< those who are in the wrong are sure to 
 be most angry. 8 
 
 The very reverse was the case on this occasion, for it 
 was Bonaparte who never forgot that unfortunate alter- 
 cation. More than ten years afterward he spoke to me 
 on the subject with asperity. Be this as it may, he was 
 very kind to my brother, received him in the most flatter- 
 ing manner, gave him all the support he could expect, 
 and procured for him a very good appointment. 
 
 While General Bonaparte hurried on through Italy from 
 victory to victory, his family was collecting at Paris, and 
 forming a colony there. Joseph Bonaparte, after having 
 been Ambassador of the French Republic at Rome, had 
 returned to Paris, bringing with him his wife's sister, 
 Mademoiselle Desiree Clary, who was then in the deepest 
 mourning for the tragical death of the brave but unfor- 
 tunate Duphot, who had been murdered at Rome, almost 
 before her face, at the moment when he was going to 
 marry her. Her first grief had abated somewhat of its 
 violence; but there was still enough left to excite much 
 pity. Luckily, she was yet young, and very agreeable. 
 
 Lucien announced his arrival. He had just obtained a 
 post (I know not where) in Germany, and he was passing 
 through Paris to see his family, nearly the whole of which
 
 i 4 8 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUXOT 
 
 was at that moment assembled there. At this period Lucien 
 had been playing a silly trick, at which the General-in- 
 Chief, who now considered himself as the head of the fam- 
 ily, was excessively mortified. 
 
 Lucien Bonaparte is a man who, no doubt, has been 
 known to many persons, but understood by few. I have 
 known him long and intimately, and saw him as he was, 
 without restraint or formality. He was endowed by Na- 
 ture with rare talents; his mind was comprehensive; his 
 imagination brilliant, and capable of grand designs. It 
 has been said that he was a man whom reason did not al- 
 ways influence in important affairs ; this, however, is not 
 true. His heart was kind, and although sometimes hur- 
 ried away by his passions, no serious charge can be 
 brought against him ; and as to his conduct toward his 
 brother, the Emperor, it was always honorable. 
 
 In 1794 or 1795 Lucien obtained the appointment of 
 storekeeper at Saint Maximin, a small village in Provence. 
 At that time folly was the order of the day, even with 
 the wisest. It was therefore necessary to sacrifice to this 
 mania of the moment; not that I mean to excuse Lucien's 
 folly by asserting that he was forced into it; on the con- 
 trary, I am of opinion that he acted not only with his 
 own free will, but even from inclination, when he assumed 
 the name of Brutus, and also changed, while he was about 
 it, the name of Saint Maximin into Marathon. Brutus and 
 Marathon did not agree over and above well together: 
 but the names were high sounding, and that was sufficient. 
 
 The village of Saint Maximin-Marathon is not a mag- 
 nificent residence. Lucien-Brutus soon found this out, 
 and ennui would have overpowered him had not love 
 come to his aid. Lucien-Brutus became enamored, 
 desperately enamored, of Mademoiselle Christine Boyer, 
 whose father was at the head of the little public house of 
 Saint Marathon. 
 
 Lucien was then young, about twenty-three ; he was in 
 love for the first time, and he loved an angel of gentle- 
 ness, virtue, and candor. Christine saw herself adored by 
 an ardent, hot-headed young man, employing against her 
 rustic simplicity all the stratagems, all the resources, with 
 which his short experience of the world had made him 
 acquainted, and which his love taught him to use skill- 
 fully; and Christine was not proof against such an attack.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 149 
 
 She loved as she was loved, but she forgot not her duty, 
 and Lucien was obliged to marry her in order to be 
 happy; he loved her too fondly to think of all the un- 
 pleasant feelings which this alliance was likely to excite 
 in his own family. In fact, no sooner was General Bona- 
 parte apprised of this marriage than he declared that he 
 would never recognize the wife, and never meet his 
 brother again. A post was then given to Lucien in 
 Germany, and the young couple came to Paris for a short 
 time. 
 
 It was at this period that I saw Lucien Bonaparte for 
 the first time, and that I became acquainted with Chris- 
 tine. There are women whose portraits it is easy to 
 sketch. We say that they have large eyes, beautiful 
 hair, a complexion blending the lily and the rose, and 
 that is all. But is it only on account of her person that 
 a woman is to be valued ? Has she not within her divine 
 qualities to be described ? a profusion of kindness, affec- 
 tion, and love ? All these were to be found in the heart: 
 of the excellent Christine. I knew her, and no sooner 
 knew than loved her. Subsequently, when surrounded 
 by the touching halo of maternal love, new treasures of 
 tenderness manifested themselves in her, and constrained 
 you to love her still more. 
 
 During the short stay of Lucien Bonaparte and his: 
 wife in Paris they made an excursion to Versailles, and 
 they allowed my mother no peace till she had consented 
 that I should be of the party. As I had never seen Ver- 
 sailles, I joined my solicitations to theirs and accom- 
 panied them. 
 
 I cannot describe the terrible impression which this 
 widowed and dismantled Queen produced upon me. On 
 beholding those immense salons stripped and deserted, 
 those dark corridors, and apartments still covered with 
 gilding, apparently awaiting some stately ceremony, all 
 seemed to me so dreary and desolate that, though very 
 young, I retained so vivid an impression of it, that when, 
 in 182 1, I went to reside at Versailles, I had a perfect 
 recollection of the feelings produced by the melancholy 
 and scandalous neglect of the residence of Louis XIV. I 
 inquired in what state the palace was, and when I learned 
 that it was precisely what it had been under the Direc- 
 tory, I did not care to enter that royal habitation, will-
 
 IS© MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 fully forsaken by its natural guardians: I should have 
 suffered much more from witnessing its forlorn condition 
 in 1821 than I had done in 1796. The garden was the 
 only object of my walk. 
 
 My mother had a great affection for Lucien, and re- 
 ceived him as his mother would have done. Christine 
 was welcomed by her with equal cordiality. Joseph, who 
 had then returned to Paris, and whom, in fact, each of 
 the younger brothers considered as the head of the fam- 
 ily, opened his arms to the young couple, and they were 
 happy. A few days afterward they set out for Germany. 
 
 Lucien was but a short time absent. I never knew 
 what had been the object of this tour. His wife had 
 accompanied him, as well as one of her cousins, named 
 Boyer. On their return they lodged in Rue Verte, in 
 the Faubourg Saint Honore. Madame Bacciochi (Mari- 
 anne Bonaparte) also lodged, I believe, in Rue Verte. 
 Madame Leclerc, who had recently come from Milan, 
 where, she had been married, took a house in Rue de la 
 Ville-l'Eveque. Louis and Jerome, too young to be left 
 alone, were, the latter at the College of Juilly, and the 
 other with his brother Joseph.* As for the latter, he 
 had bought a house at the extremity of Rue du Rocher, 
 almost in the fields, at least at that time. Since then 
 so many buildings have been erected there, as every- 
 where else, that the site of Joseph's house is now almost 
 in the heart of a new quarter. 
 
 The Treaty of Leoben was signed, that of Campo- 
 Formio had followed it, the Congress of Rastadt was in 
 preparation, when we were informed that General Bona- 
 parte would soon return to Paris. My mother appeared 
 to wait the moment with extreme impatience, I knew 
 not at the time why, but I afterward learned that the 
 reason was as follows: My brother was agent for the 
 contributions at Massa-Carrara, and had for his colleague 
 M. Gabriel Suchet, brother of the Duke of Albufera. 
 He is a kind, excellent man, a cordial friend of Albert, 
 and became ours too. 
 
 My brother lodged at the house of a Monsieur Felice, 
 whose wife was a charming woman. General Lannes, 
 
 * And with his sister-in-law Madame Bonaparte, Rue Chantereine. 
 He lived with both of them by turns. It was about this time that 
 Josephine began to think of marrying Hortense.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 151 
 
 whose division was near Massa, if not at that place, had 
 remarked, as my brother also had done, that Madame 
 Felice was handsome, and that it was not impossible to 
 please her; he therefore took measures to insure success. 
 But the future Duke of Montebello stormed a town more 
 easily than a woman — even an Italian. 
 
 Albert played delightfully on the harp, sang likewise, 
 spoke and wrote Italian as fluently as French, and made 
 sonnets and canzoni on Madame Felice, not quite equal 
 to Petrarch, and yet so good as to cause the heart of his 
 fair landlady to surrender quietly at discretion ; while 
 General Lannes, who was also well aware that it was 
 necessary to form a plan of attack, thought to play off 
 the most irresistible of seductions by relating his battles 
 and his victories; and, to tell the truth, this might have 
 been more than enough to win a heart that was free, 
 but Madame Felice's had struck its colors to all the ac- 
 complishments of Albert, and had surrendered more 
 especially to his love, for my poor brother's head was 
 completely turned. At length one day the lovers per- 
 suaded themselves that they could not live any longer 
 annoyed in this way; on the one hand by a jealous and 
 rejected swain, and on the other by an Italian husband, 
 whose character was so ill-regulated that it displeased 
 him to find his wife fond of any other man than himself. 
 The result of this cogent reasoning was, that they took 
 post and left Massa, trusting to love for the consequences 
 of that measure. 
 
 Next morning, when the forsaken husband discovered 
 his forlorn condition, he began to weep, and ran to ac- 
 quaint General Lannes with his mishap. On hearing it 
 the General gave such a bound in his bed as had well- 
 nigh knocked off the canopy. <( Gone ! w he cried — "gone ! 
 And together, say you ? }> (( Si, signor Generate. n (( And 
 which way are they gone ? * (< Ah, General ! how can I 
 possibly know that ? * <( E/i, par bleu! B replied General 
 Lannes, leaping out of bed, and slipping on his panta- 
 loons, at the same time eyeing Felice with looks of fury. 
 <( Blockhead that you are, go and find out what road they 
 have taken ! B 
 
 The poor husband sallied forth to make inquiries, and 
 learned without much trouble that the fugitives had di- 
 rected their course toward Leghorn. As soon as he had
 
 152 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 communicated this information to General Lannes, 
 * Come along! w cried he; a to horse — to horse! Morbleu! 
 we shall catch them in a couple of hours. You shall 
 shut up your wife; and as for this Corydon of a French- 
 man, who has the impudence to run away with our 
 wives, I'll get him removed. Come along, Felice — come 
 along, my friend! Take heart. What the devil ails 
 you? You are as pale as a sheet of parchment. M <( Yes, 
 General; many thanks. I will take heart. M 
 
 While giving this assurance that he would take heart, 
 his teeth chattered like castanets, as General Lannes 
 himself afterward told me. The fact is, that the poor 
 fellow had no stomach for fighting my brother,* and that 
 the General had frightened him out of his wits by ask- 
 ing what weapon he would take with him. At any rate, 
 the scoundrel would have done better to fight than act 
 as he did afterward. General Lannes took the command 
 of the party, and the husband, with his brother-in-law, a 
 cousin, and I know not how many more, marched off 
 under the protection of the banner of General Lannes. 
 "A/i, cugino Pasquale!^ said Felice to a little cousin — 
 <( Ah, cousin Pasqual! what a friend, what a brave Gen- 
 eral, and what a charming man ! >} 
 
 The fugitives were overtaken about midday. The 
 stray sheep was carried back to her fold, and inhumanly 
 separated from her companion. I believe that my brother 
 returned to Carrara, and that Madame Felice was re- 
 moved to another town. Thus far the affair had been 
 gay enough ; but now this Monsieur Felice, impelled by 
 some demon or other, preferred a criminal complaint 
 against poor Albert. It was this affair, of which I was 
 then ignorant, though my mother knew of it, that tor- 
 mented her exceedingly. She wished to know if General 
 Bonaparte had any accusatory documents relative to this 
 charge. My mother was always easily affected, and any 
 fears which she might reasonably entertain were sure to 
 be doubled by her imagination. 
 
 It would be very difficult to convey even a slight idea 
 of the enthusiasm with which Bonaparte was received 
 when he arrived at Paris. The French people are vola- 
 
 * My brother was a first-rate swordsman ; my father, a pupil of Saint 
 Georges, had been his master, as well as Fabien. My brother possessed 
 a formidable advantage — he was left-handed.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 153 
 
 tile, not very capable of constancy in their affections, 
 but keenly alive to the sentiment of glory. Give them 
 victories and they will be more than content; they will 
 be grateful. 
 
 The Directory, like all authorities that are too weak 
 and impotent to produce and to direct, though it was 
 called the Executive Directory, regarded with jealousy, 
 which soon became hatred, that feeling of worship and 
 gratitude manifested by the French people for their 
 young hero. A single movement seemed to set in action 
 those five men, not one of whom was capable of com- 
 prehending Bonaparte. Incapacity, corruption, and an 
 unbounded ambition, under a Republican exterior, were 
 the elements of the power which then ruled us, and 
 which desired no glory but that of its immediate crea- 
 tures. Bonaparte had emancipated himself since he had 
 been sent to Italy, and his laurels and those of his army 
 were personal property, as much as anything can legally 
 be. 
 
 Barras left him unmolested to enjoy his renown ; Mou- 
 lins dared not venture to call to mind that he had ever 
 been a general to run a race with him for fame. Roger- 
 Ducos thought on all points like a good-natured man as 
 he was; and Sieyes, habitually reserved, as everybody 
 knows, did not deem it necessary to let loose his tongue 
 expressly to anathematize. According to this view of 
 things, what I have said above will appear rather con- 
 tradictory. But to proceed. 
 
 On this occasion one of the five Directors governed 
 singly the sentiments of the other four. He possessed, 
 not more talent, but more intelligence, than his col- 
 leagues, and boundless ambition, though he declared that 
 he had none — a mere figure of speech, to which nowa- 
 days no value whatever is attached. This man was Gohier. 
 At this period we had every day the bulletin of the Di- 
 rectorial interior, because M. Brunetiere, our friend and 
 my guardian, was equally intimate with Gohier and visited 
 him daily. 
 
 My mother sometimes inquired the reason of his aver- 
 sion for General Bonaparte, for, in regard to him, she 
 was rather amusing. She assumed the right of saying 
 what she pleased about him, but she did not like others 
 to attack him, and the malicious things which M. Brune-
 
 154 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 tiere heard said of Bonaparte, and which he reported to 
 us every day, roused my mother's anger against him and 
 the Directory, which she cordially detested. 
 
 From this time the hatred of Gohier for Bonaparte 
 displayed itself in all his words and actions. He would 
 have patronized to his prejudice the most incapable of 
 men; that is to say, a recommendation from Bonaparte 
 would have been a sufficient reason with Gohier for exclud- 
 ing the person so recommended from an appointment 
 had it depended on him. There certainly was a positive 
 cause of this hatred, which the iSth Brumaire (Novem- 
 ber 8th ) strengthened and rendered implacable. What 
 was it? I believe simply this: Gohier would have 
 thought it highly conducive to the welfare of France, 
 and more particularly to his own, to get rid, with the 
 aid of the society of the Manege,* of the four puppets 
 associated with him at the head of the Government, and 
 to make himself President, not of the Directory, as it 
 was on the 18th Brumaire, but of the French Republic. 
 This scheme the eagle eye of Bonaparte had detected. 
 He had most probably warned Sieyes, and the admirable 
 subtlety of the latter had foiled the plans of Washington 
 the younger. Gohier was not deficient in talent, but 
 that talent, which might have some merit before a tri- 
 bunal, was reduced to a cipher in the extraordinary situ- 
 ation which fortune had permitted him to attain. 
 
 One may now venture to speak out: on looking at the 
 list of the Directors of that period, if we except Carnot, 
 a virtuous man, and a man of eminent abilities, and 
 Sieyes, who, though his political career has not been 
 quite straightforward, yet possessed merit, what were 
 the chiefs who steered our poor vessel ? Gohier felt, 
 therefore, that he was superior to the Directory as it 
 was composed after the events of Fructidor; and thought 
 that he might seize the reins, which all other hands had 
 suffered to fall, and even to trail in the dirt. His plan 
 was detected ; and this was the cause of his violent hatred 
 of Bonaparte. The reader will presently be convinced of 
 
 * A name given at the time of the Directory to a party formed out 
 of the remains of the Jacobins who were accustomed to meet in the 
 Riding School of the Tuileries; hence the appellation given above. 
 The Sittings were discontinued on 7th Thermidor, an vii (July 7th, 
 - T 799)-
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 155 
 
 •this when I relate the conversation which M. Brunetiere 
 had with Gohier after the iSth Brumaire. 
 
 Had Bonaparte's vanity been ever so great, it must 
 have been satisfied ; for all classes joined, as I have said, 
 to give him a cordial welcome on his return to his coun- 
 try. The populace shouted, <( Long live General Bona- 
 parte ! Long live the conqueror of Italy, the pacificator 
 of Campo-Formio!" The shopkeepers said, (< May God 
 preserve him for our glory, and deliver us from the 
 yoke of the Directors ! w The higher class, ungagged and 
 unbastilled, ran with enthusiasm to meet a young man 
 who in a year had advanced from the battle of Monte- 
 notte to the Treaty of Leoben, and from victory to vic- 
 tory. He may have committed errors, and even grave 
 ones, since that time, but he was then a Colossus of 
 great and pure glory. 
 
 All the authorities gave him magnificent entertain- 
 ments; the Directory exhibited itself in all its burlesque 
 pomp of mantles and hats with feathers, which rendered 
 the meeting of the five members of the supreme power 
 sufficiently ridiculous. But in other respects the fetes 
 were fine, and they had in particular the charm attached 
 to things which are supposed to be lost, and which 
 are recovered. Money circulated, and the result of all 
 this was that everybody was pleased. 
 
 One of the most magnificent entertainments, and 
 above all one of the most elegant, was that given by 
 M. de Talleyrand at the Foreign Office. He always dis- 
 played admirable skill in the arrangements of the enter- 
 tainments which he gave; indeed, when a man possesses 
 good sense he shows it in everything he does. He then 
 resided at the Hotel Galifet, Rue du Bac, and, though 
 the rooms were small for the company assembled there 
 that evening, the fete was admirable. All the most ele- 
 gant and distinguished people then in Paris were there. 
 
 My mother was absolutely bent on going. She was 
 not quite well; but when she was dressed and had put 
 on a little rouge she looked enchanting; and I can affirm 
 that I saw that night very few women who surpassed 
 her in beauty. We were both dressed alike, in a robe 
 of white crape trimmed with two broad silver rib- 
 bons, and on the head a garland of oak leaves 
 with silver acorns. My mother had diamonds and
 
 156 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 I pearls. That was the only difference between our 
 dresses. 
 
 In the course of the evening my mother was walking 
 through the rooms, arm-in-arm with M. de Caulaincourt 
 on one side and me on the other, when we found our- 
 selves face to face with General Bonaparte. My mother 
 saluted him and passed on, when the General advanced 
 a few steps and spoke to her. My mother was, in my 
 opinion, rather too dry: her ill-humor was not yet quite 
 dispelled, but in her excellent heart there was nothing 
 like rancor. It was the reverse with the General. Be 
 this as it may, he appeared to look at my mother with 
 admiration. Indeed, that evening in particular she was 
 truly captivating. 
 
 The General spoke in a low tone for some seconds to 
 the Turkish Ambassador, whom he held by the arm. 
 The Turk uttered an exclamation, and fixed upon my 
 mother his large eyes, to which, when he chose, he could 
 give a look of stupidity, and then made a sort of obeisance. 
 w I told him that you are of Greek extraction, 8 said 
 Bonaparte to my mother, saluting her by way of adieu. 
 Then, holding out his hand, he pressed hers in a friendly 
 manner, and left us after a short conversation, which 
 nevertheless attracted the attention of the company, though 
 it lasted but a few minutes. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 Illness of My Mother — Domestic Details — M. de Baudeloque and M. 
 Sabatier — A Treble Fright 
 
 Shortly before the 18th Fructidor * I was exceedingly 
 alarmed on account of the state of my mother's 
 health. She was attacked by a disorder which is 
 dangerous at any age. but particularly so at her time of 
 life. M. Sabatier, M. Pelletan, and Baudeloque came 
 all three to see her almost every day for the fifty- two 
 days that the danger lasted. 
 
 My affection for her gave me preternatural strength. 
 Such an instance was never heard of as that of a girl of 
 
 ♦September 4th, 1797.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 157 
 
 fourteen being able to go through the watching, fatigues, 
 and alarms of fifty-two successive nights. The three 
 skillful physicians whom I have just named could not 
 believe it, though they were daily witnesses of it. For a 
 moment I was afraid I should not have strength to sup- 
 port the burden. I was alone ; my brother was still in 
 Italy. I saw my mother turn her languid eyes to me, 
 and the agonizing expression which momentarily animated 
 them indicated but too plainly how keen a sense she had 
 of her situation. Her daughter was likely to be left an 
 orphan, and alone ! I had written to my brother, but 
 had not received any answer. Every now and then my 
 mother called to me in a faint voice to ask if letters had 
 not arrived from Italy. I was obliged to answer in the 
 negative, and I perceived that this reply distressed her 
 exceedingly. All the agony of mind and body that nature 
 is capable of enduring was felt by my poor mother. 
 
 We had many friends; I have no doubt that until my 
 brother's arrival a dozen houses would have received me ; 
 but, I repeat it, the thought never entered my mind. 
 When I saw my mother so ill as to be unable to leave 
 her bed, my grief was at first violent; but when the 
 symptoms of her painful disease became so aggravated 
 as to threaten her life, my despair overpowered me to 
 such a degree that I had no energy and presence of 
 mind beyond what was requisite to make me the most 
 intelligent of nurses. 
 
 I could not bear my mother to take a spoonful of 
 medicine or a basin of gruel from any hand but mine. 
 She had an Alsatian femme de chambre, who was an ex- 
 cellent creature, and exceedingly attached to her. She 
 was a clever nurse. But I was not satisfied with her 
 attendance, though I could rely upon her. I could not 
 sleep if I left her alone with my mother. If I lay down 
 for a few hours anxiety kept me awake, and I returned 
 at four in the morning, unable to finish the night in my 
 bed. 
 
 At length the danger became so imminent that the 
 physicians thought it no longer their duty to conceal the 
 fact. It was, however, difficult to tell a girl who had no 
 other support but her mother that she must die ! Never- 
 theless, I heard this sentence, and I had strength to ask 
 if there was nothing at all that could save her. <( Nature
 
 i 5 8 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUXOT 
 
 and incessant attention, not only every minute, but every 
 moment, may do much," replied Baudeloque; (< and there- 
 fore 3*ou must eat and sleep, that you may have strength. * 
 
 Sabatier was the one who understood me best. He did 
 not say to me, <( eat and sleep, w but he almost forced me 
 to bathe two or three times a week. He recommended 
 to me a generous and strengthening regimen, and he 
 studied in particular to calm my poor head, which was 
 no longer capable of bearing the weight of so many 
 anxieties.* My poor mother was saved. The unceasing 
 attentions paid to her at length triumphed over a dis- 
 ease which the whole faculty of Paris pronounced mortal. 
 
 On the day that hope was restored to me a singular 
 circumstance occurred. It was noon when the physicians 
 informed me that my mother was out of danger. I wrote 
 immediately to my brother, who was then in Italy; I was 
 mad with joy. I could not take any rest either in the 
 morning or during the remainder of the day. In vain 
 my mother begged me to go and lie down. <( To-night I 
 will, 39 was my invariable reply. 
 
 At length, when the beloved patient was properly 
 wrapped up for the night, when she had taken her meat 
 jelly, and her drawn curtains admitted only the faint 
 light of a night lamp, when I had kissed her brow, pale 
 and cold as marble, and received her blessing, I retired 
 to my little chamber, and prepared to go to bed for the 
 first time for nearly two months, after thanking God with 
 a grateful and deeply-affected heart. I lay down. No 
 sooner was my head upon my pillow than I was over- 
 powered with a stupor rather than real sleep; I was in a 
 kind of lethargy; not even a dream disturbed this state 
 of complete quietude. I know not whether I have suc- 
 ceeded in conveying an idea of what I then experienced ; 
 but the reader may judge how violent the shock must 
 have been which I received when I felt myself shaken 
 by the arm, and heard a tremulous voice stammering in 
 my ear: * Mademoiselle ! mademoiselle! alt, vion Dieu ! 
 mon Dicti ! Madame — madame has just expired in my 
 arms! * 
 
 *I shall never forget his kind attentions; and when, thirty years 
 afterward, his daughter became my niece, I could not help expressing, 
 though very briefly, my attachment to her father. A longer phrase 
 than that which I used would have been in bad taste.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 159 
 
 I shrieked, and instantly was as wide awake as at the 
 same hour the preceding night. I pushed aside the 
 trembling Josephine, flew to my mother's room, drew 
 back with violence the curtains of her bed, threw myself 
 upon her, called her, and my poor mother was awakened 
 by me as I had myself been by Josephine. She had 
 been fast asleep! 
 
 My mother was beginning to recover from an illness 
 which did not leave her, I verily believe, above four 
 ounces of blood in her veins. Her paleness, her emacia- 
 tion, were truly frightful: she was naturally extremely 
 fair, and her complexion was now of an alabaster white- 
 ness, without the slightest rosy tinge. Lying thus be- 
 tween the white sheets, her face surrounded by cambric, 
 the reflection of which added to her paleness, my poor 
 mother had, indeed, a look that was rather alarming to 
 any but her own child. 
 
 My poor mother trembled for above an hour with the 
 fright which I had given her on entering her chamber. 
 At length, toward morning she fell asleep again. As 
 for me, it is easy to imagine how I finished the night. 
 I would not return to my bed, but placed myself in a 
 large easy-chair, which habitually served me to sleep in; 
 and there, though more composed, I could not get so 
 much as an hour's nap. The shock had had such an 
 effect upon me that Sabatier and Pelletan declared I had 
 narrowly escaped two calamities, which might have been 
 the consequence of Josephine's indiscretion — epilepsy and 
 death.
 
 i6o MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUXOT 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 Portrait of Marshal Augereau — Consequences of the 18th Fructidor 
 and Deportations — Cruelty of the Directory — Bonaparte the Author 
 of the iSth Fructidor — Joseph Bonaparte in the Five Hundred — 
 Madame Joseph — Mademoiselle Clary, Queen of Sweden — Berna- 
 dotte's Marriage — Portrait of Joseph Bonaparte — The Bonaparte 
 Family — Bonaparte in Paris — Preparations for the Expedition to 
 Egypt — Portrait of Louis Bonaparte — Portrait of Lucien — Bona- 
 parte Makes Himself Head of the Family — Arrival of His Mother 
 and Sister Caroline at Paris — Portrait of Caroline Bonaparte — 
 Madame Bacciochi — Madame Leclerc and Paulette. 
 
 At length came that terrible day, the 4th of September. 
 I call it terrible, because the establishment of a 
 republic in France, such as the fond dreams of our 
 hearts represent it, may be impracticable, but still we 
 had one of some kind even in the Directory. After the 
 institution of this dictatorship, or of this royalty in five 
 volumes, tatters of this republic had daily fallen under 
 the blows of the Directory itself and the anarchists; at 
 any rate, some part of it was yet left. This solemn day 
 utterly destroyed it. The republic, whose foundations 
 had been cemented by the pure and glorious blood of 
 the martyrs of the Gironde, had vanished, was dispelled 
 like a dream; the blood of the victims alone had left 
 reprobatory recollections. 
 
 The conduct of the Directory on this occasion displayed 
 ability. That body acted at first with a cunning, and 
 afterward with a boldness, worthy of a better cause. In 
 fact the army of Italy exercised over us, even already, 
 some of the ascendency to which we bowed at a later 
 period; and General Augereau did but execute prescribed 
 and circumstantial orders. He was a man who might 
 possess that daring spirit which hurries along thousands 
 of soldiers in its train, but, for directing a political 
 movement, for organizing the simplest machination, he 
 was a mere cipher. Not only was he a soldier, but his 
 manners were those of a soldier; everything about him 
 betrayed the uneducated man. His vanity was, never- 
 theless, inordinate.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 161 
 
 We met him sometimes at a house where my mother 
 visited a good deal, that of M. Saint Sardos. I confess 
 that his manner not only excited in me that disgust which 
 must be felt by a young girl accustomed to see none but 
 well-bred people, but there was superadded the jealousy 
 which I experienced as a warm admirer of General Bona- 
 parte on account of his campaigns in Italy; it put me 
 out of temper to think that this booby, as I called him, 
 should presume in his pride to dispute the palm of glory 
 with Bonaparte. My mother, who was not always of my 
 way of thinking relative to Bonaparte, agreed with me on 
 this subject. 
 
 As to the conseqences of that cruel day, they were such 
 as might have been expected. The Directory triumphed 
 as it had fought, in a cowardly and barbarous manner. 
 It was well aware that royalty had been called for, not 
 so much out of love to the royal family, as out of 
 hatred to itself; the Directory knew this and took a base 
 revenge. 
 
 The consequences of the 4th of September gave us cause 
 for deep regret in the proscription and exile of several 
 of our friends. During many days we dared scarcely in- 
 quire about persons for whom we felt an interest, and a 
 new terror, as it were, reigned in Paris. Almost every 
 family mourned a relative or a friend. My mother was 
 greatly distressed, and both her opinions and her affections 
 were wounded. 
 
 The signal for the events of the 4th of September came 
 from Italy; it was the hand of Bonaparte that gave 
 it; he was determined to crush the Royalist party in the 
 assembly. The Clichyans, by refusing Joseph (and I be- 
 lieve Lucien), had incensed him; and from that moment 
 Junot told me, he swore that the men of the guilty party, 
 as he called it, should not see the close of the year while 
 on their curule chairs. 
 
 After the departure of the unfortunate proscripts, Joseph 
 Bonaparte was nominated deputy of the Liamone to the 
 Council of Five Hundred. He then completed the fitting- 
 up of his pretty house in the Rue du Rocher, and pre- 
 pared to receive company. He was expecting his mother 
 and his youngest sister Caroline. Mademoiselle Desir6e 
 Clary had just married Bernadotte. We were at the 
 wedding, which took place in a very plain manner in 
 11
 
 162 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 Joseph's house. Mademoiselle Clary was rich, and ex- 
 tremely pleasing in person and manners; Bernadotte made 
 a very good match. 
 
 Of all Bonaparte's brothers none have been so mis- 
 represented, and that generally, as Joseph. I have read 
 a multitude of memoirs, and everywhere found a carica- 
 ture, by which he has been judged, substituted for his 
 real aspect. Joseph, moreover, is not the only one of the 
 family that I shall replace in his proper light; and this 
 I can do with the greater facility, because all its mem- 
 bers are as well known to me as my own relations, in 
 consequence of an intimate association of many years, 
 and at a less exalted period of their lives. 
 
 My brother was particularly intimate with Joseph. I 
 know not when this friendship commenced; but I believe 
 that it was at the time when my brother, in order to 
 escape the requisition, was at Marseilles and Toulon with 
 Salicetti. 
 
 Joseph Bonaparte is one of the most excellent men 
 that can be met with. He is good-natured, intelligent, 
 a student of French and Italian literature, and unaffectedly 
 fond of retirement. Much has been said, but to no pur- 
 pose, relative to the weak conduct of Joseph at Naples 
 and in Spain. I know not what he did, or what he could 
 have done at Naples; but this I know, that in Spain he 
 could do no better, because he went there against his 
 inclination, and it distressed him exceedingly to be obliged 
 to go to that unhappy country, filled with troubles and 
 discussions, where the dagger or the blunderbuss threaten 
 you every moment — a country where all the good that 
 he did, and I am certain that he did a great deal, was 
 accounted only as a duty performed. No, no; the man 
 who has been good, honorable, virtuous, for a series of 
 years does not change at once and become cowardlv, 
 and even wicked. 
 
 Joseph is handsome, very like the Princess Pauline. 
 They have both the same delicate features, the same 
 winning smile, the same kind look. Joseph has always 
 been a great favorite with our family. At Montpellier, 
 after his father had breathed his last in my mother's 
 arms, Joseph came to live with his uncle Fesch in the 
 house of my parents. I mention this because Joseph 
 never forgot it; on the contrary, he always tendered me
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 163 
 
 his hand to testify his gratitude for what my mother had 
 done for him. 
 
 Madame Joseph Bonaparte is an angel of goodness. 
 Pronounce her name, and all the indigent, all the un- 
 fortunate in Paris, Naples, and Madrid, will repeat it 
 with blessings; yet she was never at Madrid, and knew 
 nothing of that foreign land but from the accounts of it 
 that were given to her. Never did she hesitate a 
 moment to set about what she conceived to be her duty. 
 Accordingly, Madame de Survilliers* is adored by all about 
 her, and especially by her own household; her unalter- 
 able kindness, her active charity, gain her the love of 
 everybody, and in the land of exile she has found a 
 second native country. 
 
 She was fondly attached to her sister, the Queen of 
 Sweden. The latter is an inoffensive, and in my opinion 
 an excellent, creature ; but she has one defect which her 
 present situation renders almost a vice — she is a mere 
 cipher. Her character has no color. Nay, more, she 
 may easily be persuaded to do any person an ill turn, 
 merely because she is not aware of the drift of the pro- 
 cedure. The Queen of Sweden was prodigiously fond of 
 everything that was melancholy and romantic. 
 
 When she married Bernadotte she had a face of which 
 I shall say nothing, because we were then thought to be 
 exceedingly like each other. She had very fine eyes, and 
 a most pleasing smile. Lastly, she had not too much 
 embonpoint as at the time of her departure for Sweden, 
 and she was altogether a very agreeable person. She 
 was fond of her husband, which was natural enough; 
 but that fondness became a. downright annoyance to the 
 poor Bearnese, who, having nothing of a hero of ro- 
 mance in his composition, was sometimes extremely per- 
 plexed by the part. She was continually in tears when 
 he had gone out because he was absent; when he was 
 going out, more tears: and when he came home she still 
 wept because he would have to go away again, perhaps 
 in a week, but at any rate he would have to go. 
 
 Louis Bonaparte was engaging at eighteen, subse- 
 quently his infirmities gave him the appearance of an old 
 man before his time; this rendered him morose in 
 
 *The name afterward assumed by King Joseph. The Queen also 
 used it in Germany, where she then resided.
 
 1 64 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUXOT 
 
 appearance, and miserable in reality. He resembled the 
 Queen of Naples when he was young and in health; 
 there was the same cast of countenance, and the same 
 expression when the features of the Queen of Naples 
 were at rest; but as soon as they were animated by her 
 smile or her look all resemblance vanished. 
 
 Louis is a mild, easy, good-natured man. The Em- 
 peror, with his whim of making kings of all his brothers, 
 could not find one who would fall in with it. His sisters, 
 on the contrary, seconded him, for they were devoured 
 by ambition; but on this point the men have always 
 shown a firm and determined will. Louis told him as 
 much when he was setting out for Holland. <( I will do 
 what I like," said the young King to his brother. <( Let 
 me act freely, or let me remain here. I will not go to 
 govern a country where I shall be known only by disas- 
 ter. » 
 
 The Emperor was inflexible in his will. He sent 
 Louis to Holland; the unfortunate young man went to 
 experience a slow and cruel agony among its canals and 
 marshes. The greater part of his present ailments pro- 
 ceed from that damp atmosphere, particularly unhealthy 
 for a child of the South like him. He obeyed, and his 
 wife was destined there to feel the keenest anguish — 
 her maternal heart was wrung by the death of her first- 
 born.* 
 
 Lucien and his wife arrived at Paris at the same time, 
 I believe, as did Madame Lsetitia and Caroline Bona- 
 parte. The General came to Paris, and afterward set 
 out again for Toulon. The Egyptian expedition was in 
 preparation. Applications from all quarters poured in 
 from young men, who, in ignorance of its destination, 
 but hoping that it might be for Constantinople or Eng- 
 land, enrolled themselves in crowds. 
 
 At the period I am speaking of (that is, in 1797), 
 Lucien might be about twenty-two years of age ; he was 
 tall, ill-shaped, having limbs like those of the field 
 spider, and a small head, which, with his tall stature, 
 would have made him unlike his brothers had not his 
 physiognomy attested their common parentage. Lucien 
 was very near-sighted, which made him half shut his 
 
 ♦The eldest of the children of Louis and Hortense Beauharnais died 
 of croup, at the Hague, in 1S04.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 165 
 
 eyes and stoop his head. This defect would have given 
 him an unpleasing air if his smile, always in harmony 
 with his features, had not imparted something agreeable 
 to his countenance. Thus, though he was rather plain, 
 he pleased generally. He had very remarkable success 
 with women who were themselves very remarkable, and 
 that long before his brother arrived at power. With 
 respect to understanding and talent, Lucien always dis- 
 played abundance of both. 
 
 In early youth, when he met with a subject that he 
 liked he identified himself with it; he lived at that time 
 in an ideal world. Thus, at eighteen, the perusal of 
 Plutarch carried him into the Forum and the Piraeus. 
 He was a Greek with Demosthenes, a Roman with Cicero; 
 he espoused all the ancient glories, but he was intoxicated 
 with those of our own time. Those who, because they 
 had no conception of this enthusiasm, alleged that he 
 was jealous of his brother, have asserted a willful false- 
 hood, if they have not fallen into a most egregious error. 
 This is a truth for which I can pledge myself. But I 
 would not with equal confidence assert the soundness of 
 his judgment at this same period, when Bonaparte, at 
 the age of twenty-five, laid the first stone of the temple 
 which he dedicated to his immortality. 
 
 Not naturally disposed, by the grandeur of his genius, 
 to view things in a fantastic light, and attaching himself 
 solely to their reality, Bonaparte proceeded direct to the 
 goal with a firm and steady step. He had in conse- 
 quence the meanest idea of those who kept traveling on, 
 as he expressed it, in the kingdom of fools. From this 
 rigorous manner of judging persons of ardent imagi- 
 nations, it may be supposed that Lucien was smartly 
 reprimanded whenever he addressed to him any of the 
 philippics or catilinaria of the young Roman. Napoleon 
 forgot that he himself, a few years before, while still 
 in Corsica, had given proof of equally violent exal- 
 tation. 
 
 Madame Lucien was tall, well-shaped, slender, and had 
 in her figure and carriage that native grace and ease 
 which are imparted by the air and sky of the South ; her 
 complexion was dark, and she was pitted with the small- 
 pox; her eyes were not large, and her nose was rather 
 broad and fiat: in spite of all this she was pleasing,
 
 166 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 because her look was kind, her smile sweet, as well as 
 her voice: she was graceful, in short, and good as an 
 angel. Her love for her husband rendered her quick in 
 adapting herself to her position; in a few weeks she 
 became an elegant woman, wearing to admiration all 
 that issued from the hands of Leroi, Mademoiselle Des- 
 paux, and Madame Germon. 
 
 On his first visit to Paris Lucien made but a short 
 stay there ; on his return from Germany he and his wife 
 settled in Paris, and lived at this period in Grande Rue 
 Verte, Faubourg Saint Honore. 
 
 Madame Bacciochi resided, like Lucien, in the Rue 
 Verte. Madame Leclerc, who arrived from Italy soon 
 after the period which I have just mentioned as that of 
 the meeting of the family, took a house in the Rue de 
 la Ville-l'Eveque. We formed, of course, nearly the 
 center of the Corsican colony, in the heart of Paris ; thus, 
 not a day passed on which some of the brothers or sis- 
 ters did not visit us, or we them. 
 
 Caroline Bonaparte, who was called Annunziata, and 
 who came with her mother from Marseilles, was then 
 twelve years old. Handsome arms, small hands, delight- 
 ful in form and whiteness, small well-turned feet, and a 
 brilliant complexion — such were the characteristics of 
 her beauty, with the addition of fine teeth, rosy cheeks, 
 very fair but round shoulders, a figure rather too 
 robust, and a manner not very elegant. Caroline was in 
 other respects a very good girl, and we were as much 
 together as my more intimate acquaintance with Made- 
 moiselle de Perigord and Mademoiselle de Caseux per- 
 mitted. 
 
 Caroline was placed in a boarding school at St. Ger- 
 main, with Madame Campan, not to finish her education, 
 for it had not even been begun. Of Madame Leclerc 
 we saw more than of any other in the family. She came 
 every day to my mother, who was very fond of her, and 
 petted her — that is the right word — by passing over 
 with more indulgence than her mother the thousand and 
 one whims which were bred, gratified, and abandoned in 
 a day. Many people have extolled the beauty of Madame 
 Leclerc; this is known from portraits and even statues 
 of her; still, it is impossible to form any idea of what 
 this lady, truly extraordinary as the perfection of beauty,
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 167 
 
 then was, because she was not generally known till her 
 return from St. Domingo, when she was already faded, 
 nay withered, and nothing but the shadow of that 
 exquisitely beautiful Paulette, whom we sometimes 
 admired as we admire a fine statue of Venus or Galatea. 
 She was still fresh on her arrival at Paris from Milan; 
 but this freshness was of short duration; by the time 
 she had lived a year in Paris she began to be a very 
 different person from the Paulette of Milan. 
 
 At this period she was an excellent creature; it has 
 been said since that she was malicious, and this report 
 has been spread even by persons of her household; I 
 know not whether greatness changed her disposition. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 Attention of Bonaparte to the Establishment of His Family — Amours 
 of Bonaparte, and a Box at the Feydeau — Coldness between My 
 Mother and Bonaparte — Levity of Josephine — Marquis de Caulain- 
 court — The Two Brothers, Armand and Auguste — Madame de 
 Thelusson and Madame de Mornay — Fashions — Bonaparte at Paris 
 — Long and Interesting Conversation between Bonaparte and My 
 Brother — Projected Expedition — Implacable Hatred against 
 England. 
 
 General Bonaparte was anxious to see all his family 
 comfortably settled at Paris before he left Europe, 
 but knowing that the Republican generals were 
 charged with rapacity, he did not wish his family to live 
 in such splendor as might afford cause for malicious in- 
 terpretations. Nothing was more simple than the style 
 of Joseph's house, though, at the same time, it was re- 
 spectably appointed. Bonaparte had also laid down rules 
 for the guidance of Madame Bonaparte's conduct in this 
 respect; had they been followed, this conquest over 
 Josephine's spirit of dissipation would have surpassed the 
 conquest of Egypt which he was about to undertake. 
 
 General Bonaparte, though younger than Joseph, and 
 though his mother was still living, assumed from this 
 moment the ascendency and authority of a father and 
 head over his family. The instructions which he left
 
 1 68 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 for their guidance were truly remarkable, and surprised 
 my mother; she had not seen him at her house since 
 her decided quarrel with him on account of my cousin 
 Stephanopoli.* Naturally proud, she was now as glad to 
 avoid Bonaparte as a few years before she had been 
 anxious to meet him. The behavior of the young Gen- 
 eral had deeply hurt her, and the indifference which he 
 had shown in excusing himself completely incensed her 
 against him; but subsequently her excellent understand- 
 ing made allowances for all that might then have occu- 
 pied the head of such a man. Bonaparte was about this 
 time as fond of his wife as his nature allowed him to 
 be when his faculties were wholly devoted to the vast 
 projects he had himself conceived. No doubt he loved 
 Josephine, but those who have asserted that he loved her 
 more than he ever did any other woman, have not fol- 
 lowed him through his early life, nor discovered him in 
 the character of a romantic lover; they have not seen 
 him redden, turn pale, tremble — nay, even weep. At 
 the old Feydeau theater there was a box, No. n, in the 
 first tier, which knew much more about this matter than 
 they do. 
 
 His love for his wife was not of the same nature. 
 He loved her, no doubt, but without making of her one 
 of those divinities which dazzle the acutest understand- 
 ing, and prevent it from perceiving any imperfection, 
 moral or personal, in the beloved object. Besides, there 
 was a counterpoise in the gratitude which, more partic- 
 ularly about the time of his return from Italy, everyone 
 said that Bonaparte owed to his wife. 
 
 Madame Bonaparte showed a total want of prudence, 
 not only in not imposing silence on those who spread 
 this report, but also in giving it weight by her confi- 
 dences to a host of flatterers, and, above all, of intriguers, 
 who never kept the secret more than an hour. I know 
 that Bonaparte had been informed of the authority, if 
 I may be allowed the term, which Madame Bonaparte 
 gave to the absurd report which the enemies of Napo- 
 leon, and he had many already, circulated respecting 
 him. It may easily be conceived how his spirit must 
 have been wounded when he saw himself the object of 
 
 * He died at Neuilly, in consequence of having cut a corn on his 
 foot
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 169 
 
 a contemptuous look, when he heard the expression: w It 
 is his wife's influence that upholds him. w This was false 
 and ridiculous, but it was said, and whoever knew Bona- 
 parte well must be aware that nothing more was required 
 to produce an extraordinary effect upon him. 
 
 Bonaparte was acquainted with the indiscretion of his 
 wife; accordingly, he recommended her to abstain above 
 all things from talking about politics — a subject which 
 she knew nothing of, and which could not fail to lead 
 to conversations liable to compromise him. <( What you 
 say is supposed to come from me," he would frequently 
 observe to her; "keep silence, and then my enemies, 
 and you are surrounded by them, will not have it in 
 their power to draw silly inferences from your words." 
 
 My mother had found again an old friend in her 
 neighborhood, M. de Caulaincourt, whose hotel, in the 
 Rue Joubert, was not above a hundred paces from our 
 house. To name him is sufficient to call to the minds 
 of those who knew this excellent man all that is good, 
 honorable, and honored. The Marquis de Caulaincourt 
 was likewise a friend of Madame Bonaparte ; he had 
 rendered her very great services. Of what nature I 
 know not, but my mother knew; they must have been 
 very important, for, subsequently, on the day that his 
 two sons were presented to the First Consul, when M. 
 de Caulaincourt described to my mother the truly re- 
 markable reception which Bonaparte had given to him- 
 self and his sons, "Indeed, I can easily believe it," said 
 my mother; (< if even the merits of Armand and Auguste 
 had not required this distinction, the gratitude which his 
 wife owes you would have imperatively commanded it. w 
 M. de Caulaincourt approached my mother's bed, for she 
 was lying down at the time, and whispered to her for a 
 few moments. (< No, no, w said my mother, w 'tis not 
 enough. Consider besides that your sons may aspire to 
 everything. Where do you find men possessing their 
 qualifications, and who, moreover, have at their age their 
 military renown ? B 
 
 M. de Caulaincourt was therefore a frequent visitor at 
 the house of Madame Bonaparte. He gave her advice, 
 which she listened to without following. He had a gen- 
 uine friendship for her, and he proved it unequivocally; 
 but Madame Bonaparte was excessively frivolous and
 
 i 7 o MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 fickle, with the appearance of good nature. M. de 
 Caulaincourt soon became disliked, though he was far 
 from suspecting it; and subsequently, when, in conse- 
 quence of my marriage, I formed one of the select circle 
 at the Tuileries, I did not wound his heart by telling 
 him that he was called the dotard. 
 
 M. de Caulaincourt was like a living tradition of a 
 period which our fathers themselves considered as be- 
 longing to another age. His sons did not resemble him. 
 Armand, afterward Duke of Vicenza, had much of the 
 look of his mother; Auguste was not like anybody, 
 neither was Madame de Saint Aignan, formerly Madame 
 de Thelusson. Madame de Mornay* was a fine woman, 
 and had much of the elegant carriage and manners of 
 Armand. 
 
 M. de Caulaincourt was a man of such an original 
 stamp that I should look around me in vain at the 
 present day for anyone resembling him. His features 
 had been very delicate in his youth, and, though short 
 in stature, he was perfectly made. He had dark expres- 
 sive eyes, to which, however, he seldom gave a severe 
 expression. Many years have since passed, and yet my 
 recollection of M. de Caulaincourt is so strong that 
 methinks at this moment I can see him alighting from 
 his horse at my mother's door on his return from 
 Madame Bonaparte, Rue Chantereine. 
 
 Never shall I forget that pretty pony, which fashion 
 led him to choose : he paid all his visits upon horseback, 
 like a country apothecary. Having formerly been a 
 cavalry officer, highly esteemed in his corps, he had 
 retained, in spite of time, reform, and revolution, the 
 clumsy jack-boots, long queue, coat with large metal 
 buttons, and waistcoat with flaps. Below these flaps hung 
 two immense watch chains, with such a collection of 
 trinkets that, when I did not hear the usual noise made 
 by the horse and himself, their jingle, as soon as he 
 began to ascend the stairs, apprised me of his approach. 
 
 He was thoroughly convinced that the most graceful 
 fashion of the day could not stand a comparison with 
 his; and, to speak the truth, I should be puzzled to tell 
 which was most laughable, he or a young incroyable of 
 that time, buried in a muslin cravat two yards wide, with 
 
 * Afterward Madame d'Esternau.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 171 
 
 a coat the skirts of which reached a little lower than the 
 hips, while pantaloons, ample enough to make a gown, 
 gave to the lower part of his person the appearance of 
 a woman. Add to this capricious costume hair falling in 
 long thick corkscrews over the immense cravat, and a 
 hat so extremely small that it was difficult to keep it 
 upon the head, which it scarcely covered. 
 
 M. de Caulaincourt called me his daughter, and I called 
 him my little papa. Armand, afterward Grand Equerry 
 to the Emperor, and I were long accustomed, even at 
 Court, to call one another brother and sister. The 
 portrait of the Duke of Vicenza has not been favorably 
 drawn by prejudice and envy. He was not liked. He 
 was perhaps rather too much convinced of his superiority 
 over most of those who formed the military circle of the 
 Emperor, and this conviction gave him an air of reserve 
 which superficial persons took for haughtiness. He was 
 clever, and had as much the manners of a gentleman as 
 any man in France. His brother was far from being 
 equal to him. Auguste's temper was by no means agree- 
 able, and I have frequently heard my mother reprimand 
 him severely for unpoliteness, even to the friends of his 
 father. At this period both brothers were with their 
 regiments. 
 
 General Bonaparte, after staying but a few weeks at 
 Paris, when on the point of leaving Europe with the 
 chance of never returning, had been influenced by a 
 feeling of violent irritation. My brother, who in Italy 
 had always kept upon the best terms with the General, 
 had called to see him at Bonaparte's request. Albert 
 went several times, and always came back more and 
 more certain that Napoleon was excessively mortified by 
 the course of events. (< I plainly perceive, w said Albert, 
 (< that his great spirit is too much compressed in that 
 narrow center, within which those needy Directors wish 
 to confine it: it is a free flight in untrammeled space 
 that such wings demand. He will die here; he must 
 begone. This morning, w added Albert, (( he said to me: 
 ( This Paris weighs me down like a cloak of lead! ) And 
 then he paced to and fro. w 
 
 (< And yet, w replied Albert, (< never did grateful country 
 hail more cordially one of its children. The moment 
 you appear, the streets, the promenades, the theaters,
 
 1 72 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 ring with shouts of ( Vive Bonaparte! i The people love 
 you, General. 
 
 While my brother thus spoke, Bonaparte, he said, 
 looked steadfastly at him. He stood motionless, his 
 hands crossed behind him, and his whole countenance 
 expressing attention mingled with the liveliest interest: 
 he then began walking again with a pensive look. 
 
 "What think you of the East, Permon? ° he abruptly 
 asked my brother. (< You seem to have had an excellent 
 education : for your father, I believe, originally destined you 
 for the Diplomatic Service, did he not? B My brother re- 
 plied in the affirmative. (< You speak modern Greek, 
 I believe? ° Albert nodded assent. w And Arabic? ° 
 Albert answered in the negative, adding that he 
 could easily learn to speak it in the course of a 
 month. 
 
 "Indeed! Well in that case I * Here Bonaparte 
 
 paused, as if fearful that he had said too much. He 
 nevertheless reverted to the subject a moment afterward, 
 and asked Albert if he had been at M. de Talleyrand's 
 ball. (< That was a delightful fete, ° he added ; (< my Army 
 of Italy' would be very proud if it knew that its Com- 
 mander had received such high honors. Yes, the Direc- 
 tors have done things nobly. I should not have supposed 
 that they had such skill in paying compliments: what 
 luxury! He walked about for a considerable time with- 
 out speaking, and then resumed : (( It was more magnifi- 
 cent than our royal entertainments of old. The Directory 
 ought not thus to forget its republican origin. Is there 
 not pretension in appearing in such pomp before those 
 who, in fact, can counterbalance its power? I represent 
 the army ! ° added. Bonaparte ; <( yes, I represent the army, 
 and the Directors know whether the army is at this mo- 
 ment powerful in France. 
 
 Nothing could be more true than this last insinuation 
 of Bonaparte. At this period the army actually possessed 
 great influence, and a distant expedition was already 
 much talked of in public. Bonaparte asked my brother 
 several questions relative to this subject. Albert answered 
 that it was generally believed that the projected expedi- 
 tion was destined against England. 
 
 The smile that now played upon Napoleon's lips, as 
 Albert afterward told us, had so strange, so incompre-
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 173 
 
 hensible an expression, that he could not tell what to 
 make of it. 
 
 <( England! w he then rejoined. <( So you thinlc in Paris 
 that we are going to attack it at last ? The Parisians 
 are not mistaken ; it is indeed to humble that saucy na- 
 tion that we are arming. England! If my voice has any 
 influence, never shall England have an hour's truce. 
 Yes, yes; war with England forever, until its utter de- 
 struction! Permon, if you choose, I will take you with 
 me; you speak fluently English, Italian, Greek. Yes; I 
 will take you with me. 8 
 
 The conversation detailed here is the summary of what 
 passed at five or six interviews. My brother heard in all 
 quarters a variety of surmises concerning the projected 
 expedition. The secret was long kept, but at length it 
 was divulged; for Bonaparte, covetous of all kinds of 
 glory, resolved to surround himself with the splendor 
 which the arts and sciences impart to everything. He 
 laid the Institute itself under contribution. An immense 
 battalion accompanied the new Alexander to the banks 
 of the Nile, whence it was destined to bring back a 
 trophy more brilliant than any that blood can give to 
 posterity. 
 
 As soon as my brother learned that the expedition was 
 destined for so distant a country his resolution was taken; 
 he arranged his affairs, and prepared for his departure. 
 My mother, when she knew it, threw herself in a man- 
 ner at his feet, entreating him not to forsake her. Al- 
 bert needed no second supplication ; he remained.
 
 174 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 Family of Junot — His Education — His Character — The Battalion of 
 the Cote d'Or — Junot a Grenadier — Promoted to Sergeant — The 
 Siege of Toulon — First Meeting of Junot and Bonaparte — Extraor- 
 dinary Scene — Junot Is Bonaparte's First Aid-de-Camp — Curious 
 Correspondence Between Junot and His Father — Remarkable Dream 
 — Muiron and Marmont — Death of Muiron — Wounds of Junot — 
 Inexplicable Errors in the Memorial of St. Helena — Politeness of 
 Junot — Adventures of Madame de Brionne at Dijon — She Pre- 
 sents Junot with Her Portrait — Baron de Steyer. 
 
 Among the young officers whom Bonaparte had intro- 
 duced to my mother, when he was appointed to the 
 command of the Army of the Interior, she dis- 
 tinguished one, as well on account of his manners, blunt 
 without rudeness, and his open countenance, as for the 
 extreme attachment which he manifested for his General. 
 This attachment bordered upon passion. He evinced an 
 enthusiasm so touching that my mother, whose elevated 
 soul and loving heart were capable of appreciating all 
 exalted sentiments, had immediately distinguished Colonel 
 Junot, and from that moment she felt the sincerest 
 friendship for him. I was then quite a girl, and never 
 dreamed that the handsome Colonel, with light hair, ele- 
 gant dress, engaging countenance, and yet serious look, 
 would come three years afterward and, out of love, solicit 
 the hand of the little girl whom at that time he scarcely 
 noticed. 
 
 Of all the officers composing Bonaparte's staff Colonel 
 Junot had the most adventurous and the most fortunate 
 destiny. He bore, in recent scars, the glorious marks 
 of a valor which his bitterest enemies have not attempted 
 to deny him. The General-in-Chief had known how to 
 appreciate it, and with the origin of his fortune were 
 connected several remarkable acts, not only of courage, 
 but also of honor and generosity. It was at the siege 
 of Toulon that the General had become acquainted with 
 him, and in a manner which, for its singularity, deserves 
 to be related at length. 
 
 Junot was born at Bussy-Legrand, in the department 
 of the Cote d'Or. on the 24th of September, 1771, and it 
 may be observed, by the way, that he received for a
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 175 
 
 Christian name that of the saint whose festival happened 
 to fall on the day of his birth ; hence he had the most 
 singular name perhaps in France — it was Andoche. 
 What trouble this unlucky name gave in the sequel to 
 the masters in the art of pleasing, who took it into their 
 heads to celebrate the ruling powers! 
 
 Junot's parents were respectable bourgeois; his family 
 was in easy circumstances. His mother's two brothers 
 were, the one a physician at Paris, where he was de- 
 servedly esteemed, and the other first Canon of the 
 cathedral of Evreux, possessing good benefices, which 
 he meant to leave to the elder of his nephews, M. 
 Junot, who died Receiver-General of the Upper Saone. 
 The Abbe Bien-Aime" was a worthy priest, whose memory 
 I revere. He died Bishop of Metz, in 1806, regretted by 
 his whole diocese, the poor of which called him le Bien- 
 Nomine". 
 
 As, prior to the Revolution of 1789, the class of the 
 bourgeoisie never put their sons into the army, Junot was 
 destined for the bar. His education, begun at Montbard 
 under an excellent man named Heurt6, of whom he 
 frequently spoke with gratitude, was completed at the 
 college of Chatillon-sur-Seine.* Here he first became 
 acquainted with Marmont, who was a pupil at the same 
 college, and here they contracted that friendship which 
 nothing ever diminished, though both of them pursued 
 the same career. This friendship ended only with 
 Junot's death in 1813. 
 
 * "When General Junot returned from the Egyptian expedition, he 
 went into Burgundy to see his relatives and friends, and to show them 
 that prosperity had not altered his sentiments toward them. At Mont- 
 bard where he had received what little education he possessed, he 
 called on his schoolfellows, whom he saluted with great cordiality; but 
 his emotion was much greater when he met with his former preceptor, 
 whom he had believed to be dead. He threw his arms around the old 
 man's neck, and kissed him. Surprised to receive such testimonies of 
 regard from a stranger, especially from one so richly habited, the school- 
 master looked foolish, and was unable to utter a word. 
 
 (< < Do you not know me ? > inquired the young officer. < I have not 
 that honor, sir.' ( What! not know the idlest, the most dissolute, and 
 the most worthless of your scholars ?> <Am I, then, speaking to M. 
 Junot ? > inquired the old man with the utmost naivete. The General 
 laughed, again embraced his tutor, and on going away settled on him 
 an annual pension. w — <( The Court and Camp of Napoleon * (1836), 
 p. 194.
 
 i 7 6 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 Junot was a man of very extraordinary character, 
 which was not always duly appreciated by those about him, 
 because he himself sometimes threw an obstacle in the way, 
 in consequence of a defect which really was a drawback 
 from his many good qualities — I mean an extreme irri- 
 tability, easily excited in him by the mere appearance 
 of a fault. Whenever he had reason to suspect anyone, 
 more especially a person under his command, of neglect 
 in matters connected with the service, he could not help 
 reproving him for it, and the more harshly, as, in the 
 like case, he would have been just as severe toward 
 one of his own relations. On such occasions his frank- 
 ness did not allow him one circumlocutory word. 
 
 Junot had lofty ideals; he was a stranger to falsehood, 
 and was endowed with a generosity which his enemies 
 have endeavored to represent as a vice, but which his 
 numerous family, who for fifteen years had no other 
 support than him, a great number of crippled soldiers, 
 of widows encumbered with children, who received pen- 
 sions and relief from him, will never call anything but 
 the virtue of a noble heart. 
 
 He possessed in an eminent degree the qualities of a 
 good son, a warm friend, and an excellent father. I 
 recollect Mr. Fox telling me one day how he was struck 
 the preceding evening, when leaving the opera house, on 
 seeing Junot paying as much attention and respect to 
 his mother as he could have done to the first peeress 
 of England.* How many college friends, how many in- 
 digent relatives, has he succored and saved! How many 
 ungrateful persons are there to whom he was a patron, 
 a brother, and whose fortunes he made! 
 
 Junot doted on his children. Who can know, as I have 
 done, all that anxiety, so strong and so tender, which 
 he felt even in the midst of personal danger ? What 
 letters he would write me ! How affecting they were for 
 their candor and ingenuousness! At one time he would 
 inquire whether his boy had cut his tenth tooth. At 
 another he would say: (< But when shall you wean little 
 Rodrigue ? * And then his girls, what were they doing ? 
 
 * Mr. Fox meant by no means to satirize France by appearing to 
 think it admirable that a son should give his arm to his mother. It was 
 the extraordinary care and attention that struck him, as he himself 
 acknowledged.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 177 
 
 Were they grown ? Did they work at their needle ? 
 These details may appear trivial, but the letters were 
 written under the fire of the enemy, amid the snows of 
 Russia, or perhaps an hour after receiving a wound, 
 which had not even been dressed. I preserve all those 
 invaluable letters, which shall descend as a sacred 
 inheritance to my children. 
 
 Having begun life with the Revolution, Junot was 
 absolutely one of its children. He was scarcely twenty 
 when the first roll of the drum was heard. A war cry 
 rang throughout the kingdom; the most discreet panted 
 for combat; all were tired of repose. Had not Junot 
 been my husband, I should tell how he became all at 
 once a young Achilles. Suddenly smitten with a passion 
 for arms, he wholly forgot the luxurious and indolent 
 life which till then he had led. It was then that he 
 entered into that celebrated battalion of volunteers of 
 the Cote-d'Or, so renowned for the number of generals 
 and great officers of the Empire who sprang from its 
 ranks. Its commander was the amiable and unfortunate 
 Cazotte. 
 
 After the surrender of Longwy, the battalion was 
 ordered to Toulon to join the forces collected to retake 
 it from the English. This was the most critical moment 
 of the Revolution. Junot was sergeant of grenadiers, 
 which rank had been conferred on him upon the field of 
 battle. Often, when relating to me the circumstances 
 of the first years of his adventurous life, did he speak 
 of that event as the most extraordinary that had befallen 
 him. He said, with that accent which persuades because 
 it is true, that, in the whole course of his career of honors, 
 nothing ever threw him into such a delirium of joy as 
 that which he experienced when his comrades, all of 
 them as brave as himself, appointed him their sergeant, 
 when their commander confirmed their appointment, and 
 he was lifted on a tremulous platform supported by 
 bayonets still dripping with the blood of the enemy. 
 
 It was about this time that, being one day on duty at 
 the battery of the Sans-Culottes, a commandant of 
 artillery, who had come a few days before from Paris to 
 direct the operations of the siege, in so far as the 
 artillery under the command of Cartaux was concerned, 
 applied to the officer of the post for a young subaltern, 
 12
 
 178 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 possessing both courage and intelligence. The Lieuten- 
 ant immediately called La Tempite — Junot stepped for- 
 ward. The Commandant scrutinized him with an eye 
 that seemed already to look through the man. 
 
 " Pull off your coat," said the Commandant, " and carry 
 this order yonder," pointing to the most distant part of 
 the coast, and explaining what he wished him to do. 
 "I am not a spy," said he to the Commandant; "seek 
 somebody else; I shall not take your order." He was 
 retiring. * So you refuse to obey ? " said the superior 
 officer in a sharp tone : • do you know to what punish- 
 ment you render yourself liable ? " <( I am ready to 
 obey," said Junot, "but I will go in my uniform or not 
 at all; and that is honor enough for those rascally Eng- 
 lish." The Commandant smiled, as he looked steadfastly 
 at him. "But they will kill you," replied he. <( What is 
 that to you ? You don't know me well enough to fret 
 after me; and as for myself, 'tis all one to me. Well, I 
 may go as I am, may not I ? " He then put his hand 
 into his cartridge box. " Well, with my sword and these 
 pills, at any rate the conversation shall not flag, if those 
 fellows have anything to say to me." He then set off 
 singing. 
 
 * What is that young man's name ? " asked the supe- 
 rior officer, as soon as he was gone. • Junot. " "He is 
 sure to get forward." The Commandant then noted 
 down his name in his pocketbook. This was already an 
 opinion of great weight, for the reader will easily have 
 guessed that the officer of artillery was Napoleon. 
 
 A few days afterward, being at the same battery of 
 the Sans-Culottes, Bonaparte asked for someone who 
 could write a good hand. Junot stepped out of the ranks 
 and offered his services. Bonaparte recognized in him 
 the sergeant who had already attracted his notice. He 
 told him to place himself somewhere to write a letter, 
 which he would dictate. Junot chose the corner of the 
 battery. Scarcely had he finished the letter when a 
 bomb, fired by the English, burst at the distance of ten 
 paces and covered him as well as the letter, with mold 
 and dust. "Capital ! " said Junot, laughing; "we wanted 
 some sand to dry the ink. " 
 
 Bonaparte fixed his eyes on the young sergeant; he was 
 quite calm, and had not even started. This circumstance
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 179 
 
 decided his fortune. He continued with the Comman- 
 dant of the artillery, and did not return to his corps. 
 Afterward, when the city was taken and Bonaparte ap- 
 pointed General, Junot asked no other reward for 
 his good conduct during the siege but to be appointed 
 his aid-de-camp, * preferring an inferior rank to that 
 which he might have had by remaining in the corps; 
 but in this case he would have been obliged to leave 
 Bonaparte, and Junot could not make up his mind to 
 that. 
 
 Junot was soon attached to his General with a devoted- 
 ness that became adoration. Without taking the full 
 measure of the giant who was before him, his penetra- 
 ting mind set him down for a great man. I subjoin an 
 extract from a letter, the original of which is in my pos- 
 session; it was written in 1794, when Junot's father, 
 alarmed at the resolution of his son, asked him for in- 
 formation concerning the man to whose fortunes he had 
 attached himself. "Why have you left the Commandant 
 Laborde ? f Why have you left your corps ? Who is this 
 General Bonaparte ? Where has he served ? Nobody 
 knows him here. n 
 
 Junot answered his father, and explained to him why 
 he had preferred the service of the staff, especially that 
 active service which he was likely to have with his Gen- 
 eral, to the more tardy results that would have attended 
 his remaining with his battalion. He then added : w You 
 ask me who is this General Bonaparte. I might answer 
 in the words of Santeuil: 
 
 c < Pour savoir a gu'il est ilfaut itre lui-mime; > 
 
 but this much will I tell you, that as far as I can judge 
 he is one of those men of whom Nature is sparing, and 
 whom she throws into the world but once in a century. 
 When Napoleon set out for Egypt he passed through 
 Burgundy on his way to Toulon. He stopped at Dijon, 
 
 * Junot and Muiron, the latter of whom afterward perished so un- 
 fortunately, were the first aids-de-camp that Bonaparte ever had. 
 
 f Afterward General of Division and Commandant at Lisbon at the 
 time of the Conquest. It was Laborde who commanded in Oporto 
 when Marshal Soult suffered himself to be surprised by the English, 
 conceiving that it was the Swiss regiment which was crossing the 
 river.
 
 180 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 where my father-in-law then was, and the latter showed 
 him the letter which I just quoted. 
 
 (< Monsieur Junot," said the General, (< this only serves 
 to confirm me in my conviction of your son's attachment 
 to me. He has given me strong proofs of it, which have 
 deeply touched me. You and he may therefore rely upon 
 it that I will use all my power and influence to advance 
 him in our adventurous career. " 
 
 My father-in-law had then no occasion to ask who this 
 General Bonaparte was. A quarter of an hour after 
 this conversation, what Bonaparte had said to him was 
 written in his pocketbook, and put into his left pocket, 
 as near as possible to his heart. His adoration of Na- 
 poleon became from that moment almost as profound as 
 that of his son. 
 
 Bonaparte kept the promise which he had made to 
 Junot's father: he was to him a kind and useful patron; 
 but, then, there were important obligations on the other 
 side. We have already seen that Junot, deeply concerned 
 at the arrest and accusation of Bonaparte, wanted to 
 share his captivity; that he was repulsed from the prison 
 by Napoleon himself, who convinced him that he might 
 be of more use to him by remaining at liberty. We see, 
 in fact, that the defense of Napoleon, addressed to the 
 representatives of the people, Albitte and Salicetti, who 
 had caused him to be apprehended, was Junot's writing: 
 there are merely a few notes to it in Bonaparte's hand. 
 After the liberation of the General, Junot accompanied 
 him to Paris. There he constantly shared his poverty, 
 and always divided with him what he received from his 
 family. 
 
 8 The galleons are not yet arrived," Bonaparte would 
 say to my mother, when he called to see her, with a 
 long face, and a gray frock coat, which has since become 
 so famous, but was then a very shabby concern ; (( the 
 Burgundy diligence has not yet arrived. If it do not 
 come to-night, we shall have no dinner to-morrow — at 
 least, if you don't give us one, Madame Permon. " What 
 Napoleon called the galleons was a remittance of two or 
 three hundred francs, which Junot's mother now and 
 then sent to her son. This he divided with the 
 General. (< And I always have the larger share," said 
 Bonaparte.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTKS 181 
 
 When Napoleon, after the 4th of October, was invested 
 with the command of the Army of the Interior, he took 
 other aids-de-camp. Marmont was one of them; and at 
 this period he, Jnnot, and Muiron were the privileged 
 persons of his staff. Junot and Muiron were on the 
 most intimate terms. They were for some time the 
 only two officers attached to General Bonaparte. Their 
 friendship was not affected by the addition of Marmont 
 to their little staff, and, as I have already observed, Junot 
 and he had been educated at the same college. 
 
 It was a very remarkable point in Junot's character, or 
 rather in his heart, that he was weak and superstitious 
 in regard to his dearest friends as he was rash and reck- 
 less of his own person ; so that whenever a battle was at 
 hand, he was distressed about the fate of his friends till 
 he saw them again. On the evening before the Battle of 
 Lonato, after having been on duty the whole day, and 
 riding perhaps fifty miles, carrying orders in all directions, 
 he lay down exhausted with fatigue, but without undress- 
 ing, that he might be ready at the shortest notice. 
 
 During the day he had thought a great deal about 
 Muiron and his situation. Muiron had formed plans for 
 his future establishment, which he had communicated to 
 Junot. He meant, at the end of the campaign, to apply 
 for leave of absence, that he might go to Antibes, for the 
 purpose of marrying a young widow residing there, of 
 whom he was enamored, and who possessed some fortune. 
 It would therefore have been natural enough that Junot's 
 slumbers, receiving a tinge from the impressions of the 
 day, should present to him similar joys, but in a different 
 form. 
 
 But no sooner was he asleep than he dreamed that he 
 was on a field of battle, covered with dead and dying. 
 He was met by a powerful masked knight on horseback, 
 with whom he fought; this knight had, instead of a lance, 
 a long scythe, with which he struck at Junot several times, 
 and wounded him deeply on the left temple. The battle was 
 long; at length they closed. In the conflict the tall rider's 
 visor or mask fell off, and Junot beheld a death's-head; 
 the armor then disappeared, and Death, with his scythe, 
 stood upright before him. (< I could not take you to- 
 day," said he; (< but I will take one of your best friends. 
 Beware of me ! "
 
 182 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 Junot awoke bathed in perspiration; day began to dawn; 
 the bustle which precedes a day such as that which was 
 preparing was already heard ; he tried to sleep again, but 
 could not; he was so much agitated, and this dream pro- 
 duced an uneasiness which increased every moment; yet, 
 singularly enough, his apprehensions were not directed 
 to Muiron, and on that day his anxiety was exclusively 
 about Marmont. 
 
 The engagement began. Junot received two wounds 
 on the head, one of which left that fine scar which was 
 long seen on the left temple, the other was near the 
 nape of the neck; neither of these wounds appeared very 
 dangerous, but there was a chance that the one on the 
 temple might become so in the state of mind in which 
 he then was. 
 
 The moment he came to himself he inquired after 
 Marmont. He was not to be found. When the officer 
 who had been to look for him returned, and imprudently 
 told Yvan, who was dressing Junot's wound, that he 
 could not find him, Junot, calling to mind his dream, 
 was seized with a kind of delirium, which alarmed the 
 surgeons the more because his blood had been for sev- 
 eral days past highly inflamed. A messenger was sent 
 to acquaint the General-in-Chief with what had hap- 
 pened; he went himself to his favorite aid-de-camp and 
 strove to soothe him; but Junot would not listen to any- 
 thing, and had not Marmont at that moment arrived 
 from executing a commission given him by the General- 
 in-Chief (he had been, I believe, to Massena's headquar- 
 ters), Junot would probably have been attacked by 
 tetanus. As soon as he saw his friend he became com- 
 posed, and seemed to think that he had nothing more 
 to apprehend. 
 
 "Ah, there you are! w he exclaimed, taking him by the 
 hand; * there you are! w He then examined him with 
 the only eye that was uncovered to see whether he had 
 received any wound, and smiled with satisfaction on per- 
 ceiving no other traces of the battle but disordered hair, 
 and clothes covered with dust and Austrian blood. All 
 at once he was struck by the extreme gloom on Mar- 
 mont's countenance; the image of Muiron presented itself 
 to his mind. "Where is Muiron? M cried he; "where is 
 Muiron?" Marmont cast down his eyes, and the surgeon
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 183 
 
 gave Heldt, Junot's valet de ckambre, a significant look 
 to enjoin silence. Junot understood them. <c The wretch, * 
 cried he, w has kept his word, then! w Muiron had actu- 
 ally fallen. 
 
 During the whole of the campaigns in Italy, Junot ac- 
 companied Bonaparte in those fields of glory, and was 
 not sparing of his blood; he was in all the brilliant days 
 of Areola, Lodi, Castiglione, Lonato, the Tagliamento, 
 etc. He served his General and his country on the field 
 of battle with all the zeal that could be expected from 
 an attachment such as his. Bonaparte, who knew and 
 duly appreciated him, employed him during the cam- 
 paigns in Italy in other duties besides those of an officer 
 of the advance guard. The occupation of Venice, which 
 required both great subtlety and extreme firmness, was 
 intrusted to him; he brought back with him colors which 
 his arm had assisted in taking, and his mission had, as 
 we shall see, an entirely diplomatic object. 
 
 I have already observed that Junot lavished his blood 
 for the glory of his country. I shall here mention a few 
 instances. During the campaign in Italy, at the Battle 
 of Lonato, he received, as we have just seen, a wound on 
 his left temple; but the most frightful of his wounds 
 was a gunshot wound received in Germany when only a 
 volunteer; it must have been terrible, to judge from the 
 scar, which made one shudder. The pulsation of the 
 brain might be perceived there ; this scar was at least an 
 inch long, and seven or eight inches in depth. At fre- 
 quent intervals during the three or four years succeed- 
 ing that campaign, this wound would break open afresh in 
 a manner equally singular and alarming, and, the blood 
 flowing profusely from it, Junot ran the risk every time 
 of bleeding to death. 
 
 One day, at Milan, being at the house of Madame 
 Bonaparte, where they were playing at vingt et un, Junot 
 was sitting at a round table with his back toward the 
 door of the cabinet of the General-in-Chief. The General 
 opened his door without being heard; he made a sign to 
 be silent, and, coming up softly, laid hold of the fine 
 light head of hair which the young aid-de-camp then had, 
 and pulled it sharply. The pain was so acute that 
 Junot could not suppress a faint cry; he smiled, but 
 his face turned pale as death and then alarmingly red.
 
 i84 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 The General withdrew his hand; it was covered with 
 blood ! 
 
 To a brilliant and creative imagination Junot joined an 
 acute understanding that was most prompt in seizing any- 
 new idea the moment it presented itself to him. He 
 learned everything with inconceivable rapidity. He was 
 very ready at composing verses, was an excellent actor, 
 and wrote wonderfully well. His temper was warm' 
 sometimes passionate, but never was he coarse or brutal ; 
 and, during the thirteen years of our union, I never wit- 
 nessed such a scene as that which is described in the 
 Memorial of St. Helena; the Emperor could not have 
 made such an assertion, or, in absence of mind, he must 
 have mentioned one name instead of another. The pic- 
 ture of Junot running about in his handsome hotel, as 
 he is alleged to have done in the Memorial, sword in 
 hand, to pay his creditors, is absolutely ludicrous to all 
 who were acquainted with Junot and knew how anxious 
 he was to act in conformity with the elevated post which 
 he occupied. 
 
 This post, formerly so eminent under the Bourbons, 
 was infinitely more important under the Emperor. The 
 Governor of Paris had the command of nearly 80,000 
 men ; he was the only Governor who ever had such great 
 power, extending to Blois, and, I believe, even to Tours. 
 All officers of distinction, foreign or French, who passed 
 through Paris, were received by him. Every person of 
 any renown who came to France was admitted to the 
 hospitalities of the Governor of Paris; and, from the first 
 day of his nomination Junot strove to imitate the Due 
 de Brissac, if not in his two queues and his white scarf, 
 at least in the politeness of his manners. The desire of 
 standing well in his intercourse with the social world 
 dates even much further back, notwithstanding Junot's 
 fondness for the Republic and his aversion to ancient 
 customs. 
 
 I will give an example. When all the world was em- 
 igrating and the revolutionary tempest began to roar, 
 Madame de Brionne was stopped when attempting to 
 leave France at a town (I believe Chalons) where Junot 
 happened to be with his regiment. It was said that 
 Madame de Brionne was carrying with her the Crown 
 diamonds; she was the mother of the Prince de Lam-
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 185 
 
 besc,* whose name was held in abhorrence by the 
 people for his affair at the Tuileries; she belonged, more- 
 over, to the house of Lorraine, and that was enough to 
 render her suspected. She was therefore detained, but, 
 thanks to Junot, this measure, which might have as- 
 sumed a most serious character, was productive of no 
 other unpleasant result than the mere fact of her appre- 
 hension. 
 
 Madame de Brionne was conveyed to the best inn in 
 the town, and Junot persuaded the Mayor's officers to go 
 themselves and examine her. w She is a woman," said 
 he ; (< you do not arrest her by virtue of a warrant, since 
 you have no commission to do so, but you act out of 
 patriotism; you have received information upon which 
 you act: so far all is right. Consider, however, that your 
 information may be false, and that your action then be- 
 comes the more vexatious, inasmuch as there is no just 
 cause for it: you must act then as if you doubt whether 
 you be right; and, besides, she is a woman and we are 
 Frenchmen." 
 
 They replied to Junot with cheers, and, in consequence 
 of this harangue, it was resolved to proceed to the noble 
 traveler, who, not having been forewarned, had well-nigh 
 marred everything. She had thrown herself on a bed 
 upon pretext of fatigue, but probably to avoid the cere- 
 monial of bows and courtesies; she shrunk from the idea 
 of desiring people such as she then saw to sit down in 
 her presence. 
 
 By a very simple accident, however, her stratagem was 
 thwarted. The Mayor being absent from the town, there 
 came in his stead an extremely vulgar fellow, who, on 
 entering the room, threw himself into an armchair, say- 
 ing : <( I beg your pardon, citoyenne, but I am heavy, you 
 see (he was full two hundredweight), and by your leave 
 I will sit down." 
 
 At this intrusion Madame de Brionne half raised her- 
 self on the bed, and lifted up her head with an expres- 
 sion which gave her a most gigantic stature of twenty 
 cubits. <( By what right, sir, do you interrupt my jour- 
 ney ? * said she to the fat man who acted the part of 
 Mayor. (< Is this the liberty people now enjoy in France ? 
 I insist upon your suffering me to proceed this instant." 
 
 * And of the Prince de Vaudemont.
 
 186 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 The fat man made no other reply to this application 
 than to ask Madame de Brionne who she was and whence 
 she came. 
 
 In relating this scene to me, Junot said : <( Never shall 
 I forget the expression of Madame de Brionne's face ; it 
 was not indignation ; it was an almost unknown senti- 
 ment; it was stupifaction, madness. She, Madame de 
 Brionne, to be interrogated! Not only her name to be 
 asked, but who she was! ( After all,' said the man of 
 the Commune, ' we must know what is your profession. ' 
 Madame de Brionne returned no answer, but it was evi- 
 dent how severely she suffered from the constraint. A 
 young woman who was near her seemed in a whisper to 
 be striving to soothe her. 
 
 <( At length, when she had been questioned for the 
 third time as to her name and quality, she raised her- 
 self with that dignity which never fails to awe when it is 
 inspired by the feeling of what one really is, and ex- 
 claimed, * Marie Louise de Rohan, Comtesse de Brionne! 
 As to the charge which you have the stupidity rather 
 
 than the infamy to allege against me Show them 
 
 my luggage, ' continued she, turning to a valet de chambre; 
 'they will see that the house of Lorraine possesses 
 wealth without having occasion to rob the house of 
 France.' 
 
 * I was exceedingly pained at this scene,* said Junot, 
 * and when the clumsy booby had thoroughly convinced 
 himself that Madame de Brionne had nothing with her 
 that could even cause her to be suspected, I said 
 sharply that she might be allowed to take some rest be- 
 fore she resumed her journey, which she wanted to do 
 immediately. At any rate that woman had a noble and 
 dignified courage which excited a lively interest in me, 
 and I strove to screen her from the inconveniences of her 
 situation. J> 
 
 Madame de Brionne was too much accustomed to good 
 society not to be immediately aware of the attentions 
 paid to her by Junot, which never ceased till her de- 
 parture; and at a moment when she thought she should 
 not be overheard, she said to Junot, <c It must be very 
 painful to you, sir, to wear that dress and to live with 
 such people. It is no doubt your father whose opinions 
 Alas! in these disastrous times it is no uncommon
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 187 
 
 thing- to see persons belonging to our class joining the 
 rabble. » 
 
 "Madame," said Junot, interrupting her with a smile, 
 (< I ought to prevent you from proceeding, and assure 
 you that my father and myself are of the same opinion; 
 and I must confess that I am a plebeian and a stanch 
 Republican." 
 
 The young soldier bowed. <( Well, then/ said Madame 
 de Brionne to the young lady who had previously spoken 
 to her, <( there are many of our young coxcombs at Ver- 
 sailles who would not have been either so polite or so 
 attentive to a woman of my age.* 
 
 "I heard it distinctly," said Junot, <( though she spoke 
 in a whisper; and you will hardly believe that one of the 
 things which most engaged my thoughts, after she had 
 spoken of it herself, was to inquire her age. She was 
 still a superb woman; her arms and hands were admira- 
 bly beautiful." 
 
 [ Madame de Brionne was about fifty at the time of 
 this adventure; if anything rather more than less.] 
 
 "Sir," said she to Junot at the moment of her depar- 
 ture, * accept this token of remembrance ; I hope that it 
 may serve to remind you of one who, on her part, will 
 never forget what you have had the kindness to do for 
 her." This token of remembrance was a snuffbox of 
 white shell, with a portrait of Madame de Brionne. Junot 
 received it with warm expressions of thanks, and always 
 kept it, notwithstanding his wandering life. A singular 
 adventure, not a sequel to but a consequence of that 
 which I have just related, occurred some years afterward. 
 
 Some time after the victory of the Tagliamento, shortly 
 before the Treaty of Leoben, Junot, being at Clagenfurth 
 with the General-in-Chief, received a visit from a young 
 German officer taken prisoner in the battle. He was 
 handsome and a man of polished manners, but spoke 
 French very ill. In other respects he was quite a gentle- 
 man, for he introduced himself as a relative of Madame 
 de Brionne, in whose name he solicited Colonel Junot's 
 good offices. 
 
 From what Baron de Steyer told Junot, it appears that 
 Madame de Brionne had always kept her eye upon him, 
 and that the newspapers, in which his name frequently 
 occurred, had furnished her with honorable intelligence
 
 1 88 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 concerning him. She had recommended to the Baron, in 
 case he should meet with such a misfortune as to be 
 taken prisoner, to mention her name to Colonel Junot, 
 and solicit his influence. The confidence of Madame de 
 Brionne was not disappointed. Junot received the young- 
 officer in the most cordial manner; he asked and obtained 
 for him his liberation on parole before the exchange of 
 prisoners. My husband was much pleased with this mark 
 of remembrance on the part of Madame de Brionne, 
 and justly so; for what is more amiable than to procure 
 you an opportunity for doing a good action, and to prove 
 that one has relied upon you ? 
 
 This little story is not foreign to what precedes it, as 
 the reader may perceive. The young man to whom it 
 relates was the same who, from his fiery courage and 
 impetuosity of character, obtained a few months after- 
 ward in the field of battle the appellation of La Tempite 
 from his brave comrades. It is to be presumed that this 
 politeness, which must have been innate in Junot, for it 
 could not have been taught him, was in the sequel rather 
 developed than stifled by the remarkable circumstances 
 in which he was placed. 
 
 The preceding story, like many others, is not quite in 
 its proper place. But this is a fault — if it be one — 
 inherent to these Memoirs. They are recollections awak- 
 ened by recollections. Touch one chord, and ten others 
 vibrate, differing in sound, but combining in one har- 
 mony. So do not be surprised if I sometimes break off 
 one story to begin another.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 Departure of Junot for Egypt — A General at Twenty-seven —Mutual 
 Relations of the Generals of the Army of Egypt — Parties — Quarrel 
 between Lanusse and Junot — Duel by Torchlight on the Bank of 
 the Nile — Remarkable Observations of Napoleon— His Horror of 
 Duels — Letter from Bonaparte to Junot — Junot in Egypt after 
 the Departure of Bonaparte — Letter from Kleber — Departure of 
 Junot — Junot and General Dumuy Taken by the English — Indig- 
 nities from an English Captain, and Noble Conduct of Nelson 
 — Lady Hamilton's Oranges — Intimacy of Junot and Sir Sidney 
 Smith — Junot Returns to France, and is Appointed Governor of 
 Paris. 
 
 Junot was appointed General in Egypt. This promo- 
 tion, which is generally a desirable thing, especially 
 at Junot's age (he was then twenty-seven), was not 
 so for him. He had to leave the man to whom he was 
 affectionately attached, and was even removed from under 
 his observation ; the army was not numerous, the general 
 officers had not the choice of their cantonments, and 
 they were obliged to go whithersoever the service re- 
 quired. 
 
 Many generals have been strongly attached to the Em- 
 peror; many of them, by the ascendency of a mighty 
 genius, though they were Republicans, continued to love 
 him even after his coronation, and to serve him faith- 
 fully; but nothing ever approached that blind, that pas- 
 sionate devotedness which several of his officers, at the 
 head of whom was Junot, cherished for him. It was a 
 fault in Napoleon not to believe the reality of this senti- 
 ment, and a still greater to show that he disbelieved it. 
 
 It is well known that there was a schism between the 
 chiefs of the Army of Egypt; it was the camp of Agra- 
 mant. Napoleon's party was the most numerous, but this 
 division was extremely prejudicial. The personal danger 
 of each party rendered it more irritable, more inflexible, 
 especially toward the opposite faction. Kleber, Damas, 
 and a great number of generals of extraordinary merit in 
 other respects, affected to withdraw themselves from the 
 authority of the General-in-Chief. 
 
 Among the generals who had placed themselves in
 
 i 9 o MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 hostile opposition to the General-in-Chief was Lanusse, 
 the brother of him who lately commanded at Besancon. 
 One day an expression so horrible, and at the same time 
 so alarming for the safety of the army, was reported to 
 Junot, that the favorable prepossessions with which the 
 bravery of Lanusse had inspired him were from that 
 moment utterly destroyed. "I hated him at last, * said 
 Junot to me when relating - the circumstances of their 
 quarrel. Amicable appearances were nevertheless out- 
 wardly kept up, but their hearts were estranged.* One 
 day Murat, wishing to reconcile the two generals, in- 
 vited them to dine with him, together with Lannes, 
 Bessieres, and I believe Lavalette, who was then aid- 
 de-camp to the General-in-Chief. 
 
 Dinner passed off agreeably, and the party afterward 
 went to play. During a game at bouillotte the con- 
 versation turned on a military operation which the army 
 was about to make, when Lanusse suffered a sarcastic 
 smile to escape him; it exasperated Junot Bessieres, 
 who sat next to him, kept him quiet for a few moments. 
 Lanusse, misinterpreting the tranquillity which prevailed 
 around him, continued talking about the state of the 
 army in very indecorous terms. 
 
 In the midst of his observations he stopped short, and 
 addressing Junot: (< Junot, * said he, "lend me ten louis; 
 I am bankrupt. * "I have no money to spare," replied 
 Junot dryly. As he had a heap of gold before him, 
 Lanusse, eyeing him steadfastly, rejoined: "How am I 
 to take your answer, Junot? * "Just as you please.* 
 * I asked you to lend me ten of the louis that are lying 
 before you. }) " And I answer that, although there is 
 money before me, there is none for a traitor {traitre) 
 like you. * " None but a scoundrel could use such an ex- 
 pression," cried Lanusse, overcome with rage. 
 
 In a moment all were on their legs. " Junot! Lanusse! * 
 cried they, endeavoring to soothe them, for, at the epi- 
 thet employed by Lanusse, Junot had become furious. 
 All at once he appeared calm. "Hearken, Lanusse," 
 said he in a voice the mildness of which formed a 
 strange contrast with his choleric trembling, <( hearken 
 
 * They had previously been intimate, and I know that Lanusse 
 had even laid my husband under obligation. I take pleasure in 
 acknowledging this.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 191 
 
 to me; I called you a traitor; I don't think you are so.* 
 You called me a scoundrel; you don't think me one, for 
 we are both brave. But, look you, we must fight; one 
 of us must die. I hate you because you hate the man 
 whom I love and admire as much as God, if not more.f 
 We must fight, and that immediately. I swear that 
 before I go to bed to-night this affair shall be settled!" 
 
 All the witnesses of the scene were sensible that such 
 words as had been exchanged demanded blood, and even 
 life. But what was to be done? The General had pro- 
 scribed duels; he would not have any in his army. If 
 the affair were to be deferred till the next day he would 
 know of it, and then it would be impossible to settle it. 
 Murat's garden was spacious ; it sloped down to the Nile. 
 Torches were lighted, and there they might fight that 
 very instant. It was nine o'clock and quite dark. 
 
 * What weapon shall we take ? B said Junot. " A prett)' 
 question!" said Lanusse. "Pistols, to be sure." Everyone 
 looked at him in astonishment. He had been insulted; 
 according to the laws of dueling he had a right to choose 
 the weapons that should be employed. All were therefore 
 surprised that he should prefer one which, in Junot's 
 hand, was sure to prove fatal. It is well known that he 
 was the most expert marksman with the pistol, not only 
 in France, but almost in Europe. At twenty-five paces 
 he never missed an ace, and could cut the ball in two, 
 and that exactly in the middle, against the blade of a 
 knife. * I will not fight you with pistols," said he coolly 
 to Lanusse ; • you are no marksman, you could not hit a 
 barn door. We ought to fight upon equal terms. We 
 have our swords; let us go." 
 
 Bessieres, who was Junot's second with Murat, whis- 
 pered to him that he was a foolish fellow, as Lanusse 
 was a capital swordsman, and he might perhaps stand no 
 chance with him. "Consider, too," said Murat, "that it 
 is for life or death. " Junot would not listen to anything. 
 They proceeded to the garden, and by the way Lanusse 
 
 * Lanusse was remarkable for bravery, and one of the most dis- 
 tinguished officers of the Army of Egypt. 
 
 f I have been advised to omit this expression, but I have not done 
 so, because it was actually used by Junot, and, being acquainted 
 with his religious creed, I know how to estimate it. He was not 
 pious, but he was a believer.
 
 i 9 2 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 again raised his voice and employed some very offensive 
 expressions with reference to Jtmot and the General-in- 
 Chief. 
 
 (< Lanusse, * said Junot, (< you are acting now like a man 
 without heart, and yet you are a brave man; one would 
 suppose you were trying to screw up your courage. * 
 Lanusse replied with a volley of abuse. 
 
 Lannes silenced him. (( Come along, Lanusse,* said he 
 in the energetic manner with which he adorned all he 
 said; for at this period, and even much later, I never 
 heard him speak two words but the third was an oath. 
 <( Come along; hold your tongue; you are going to cut 
 one another's throats — what the devil would you have 
 more ? All that you say to him now is positively thrown 
 away. * 
 
 When they were on the ground the seconds examined 
 it, and they had a good mind not to suffer the affair to 
 take place on that spot. The Nile, after its periodical 
 inundation, had left inequalities which were enough to 
 trip a person up at every step. (< If it were but day- 
 light ! w said Murat, <( but you cannot fight here.* (( Come 
 on,* said Junot, (< this is child's play.* Pulling off his 
 coat, he drew his sword, and Lanusse did the same. 
 
 Junot was a good fencer. He was nimble, brave, and 
 perfectly cool; but wishing to finish the affair, and taking 
 his opportunity, he made a stroke at Lanusse, which cut 
 the crown of his hat and spent itself on his cheek. Had 
 he been without a hat he must have been killed. Taking 
 advantage of the movement which had left Junot exposed, 
 he gave him a back-handed cut, which laid open the 
 abdomen and made a wound, the scar of which was more 
 than eight inches long. Junot was removed with great 
 difficulty. The nature of the wound was most serious in 
 a country where inflammation of the intestines is the 
 chief thing to be dreaded. But he was surrounded by 
 persons whose talents and friendship quickly alleviated 
 his alarming situation. 
 
 The General-in-Chief was furious the next morning 
 when Desgenettes, at Junot's desire, informed him of the 
 occurrence. "What!* cried he; (< are they determined 
 to cut each other's throats ? Must they go into the midst 
 of the reeds of the Nile to fight among the crocodiles, 
 and leave behind for them the body of the one that shall
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 193 
 
 have fallen? Have they not enough, then, with the 
 Arabs, the plague, and the Mamelukes? You deserve, 
 Monsieur Junot, >> said he, as though his old aid-de-camp 
 had been present — (( you richly deserve putting under 
 arrest for a month when you get well. * 
 
 Such were the very words of Bonaparte. He went to 
 see Junot a considerable time after the affair — that is to 
 say, when Junot was almost convalescent — for at first 
 Napoleon would not see him, saying that he was more 
 culpable than Lanusse. However, the very next day, 
 when apprised of the result and cause of the duel, he 
 exclaimed: (< My poor Junot! Wounded for me! But, 
 then, the idiot! why did he not fight with pistols? 
 
 When Bonaparte left Egypt, Junot was at Suez, where 
 he commanded. It is well known how secret the depar- 
 ture was kept. How kind and affectionate is the letter 
 which he sent on this occasion to Junot! It is as follows: 
 
 ^Bonaparte, General-in-Chief , Member of the Institute, to the Gen- 
 eral of Brigade, Junot. 
 * I am leaving Egypt, my dear Junot, and you are too far from the 
 place of embarkation for me to take you with me. But I shall leave 
 orders with Kleber to let you set out in the course of October. Be 
 assured that, in whatever place and in whatever situation I may be, I 
 will give you positive proofs of the affectionate friendship which I have 
 vowed to you. — Health and friendship. 
 
 « Bonaparte. » 
 
 Kleber wished to keep Junot, but he would not stay. 
 He could not meet with a vessel to return to Europe, 
 and it was painful to him to be far distant from his 
 country and from the man who alone had enabled him 
 to endure the separation. At length he spoke out with 
 such energy and feeling that Kleber gave him permis- 
 sion to depart in the following letter: 
 
 « Kleber, General-in-Chief, to the General of Brigade, funeau.* 
 
 (( The feeling of gratitude which you express so well, and which 
 attaches you to General Bonaparte, only augments the esteem which I 
 entertain for you. You shall go, General, and I have ordered General 
 Damas to furnish you with a passport immediately ; it grieves me ex- 
 ceedingly that I cannot give you in any other way the assurance of 
 
 my sincere and cordial attachment. 
 
 « Kleber. » 
 
 * An orthographical blunder would be nothing more than one might 
 expect of Kleber, who did not pride himself on being able to write 
 French; but it is surprising that he did not know how to spell Junot's 
 name. 
 
 13
 
 194 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 Notwithstanding the apparent frankness of this letter, 
 Kleber caused his departure to be attended with unpleas- 
 ant circumstances. A report was circulated in the army 
 that Junot was carrying away the treasures found in the 
 Pyramids by the General-in-Chief. <( He could not carry 
 them away himself B (such was the language held to the 
 soldiers), c( and so the man who possesses all his confidence 
 is now taking them to him." 
 
 The matter was carried so far that several subalterns 
 and soldiers proceeded to the shore, and some of them 
 went on board the merchantman which was to sail with 
 Junot the same evening. They rummaged about, but 
 found nothing. At length they came to a prodigious 
 chest, which ten men could not move, between decks. 
 "Here is the treasure!" cried the soldiers; (( here is our 
 pay that has been kept from us above a year. Where is 
 the key ? » 
 
 Junot's valet, an honest German, shouted to them in 
 vain, with all his might, that the chest did not belong 
 to his chenerdl. They would not listen to him. Unluck- 
 ily Junot, who was not to embark till evening, was not 
 then on board. The mutineers seized a hatchet, and be- 
 gan to cut away at the chest, which they would soon 
 have broken up had not the ship's carpenter come run- 
 ning quite out of breath. w What the devil are you at," 
 cried he, (l madmen that you are? Hi! stop! Don't de- 
 stroy my chest; here is the key." He opened it imme- 
 diately, and lo ! the tools of the master carpenter of the ship. 
 
 A scene like this wounded Junot to his heart's core. 
 To be suspected of such baseness was to him a deep in- 
 jury; but to suspect his General of a crime of which he 
 was less capable than any other — he, the father of the 
 soldier! Junot deemed the charge beneath both of them. 
 He could have proved that he had been obliged to bor- 
 row a thousand crowns for his return to Europe, but he 
 should soon see again his own dear country, the man who 
 was not less dear, and his family. In short, the feelings 
 that crowded upon his ardent soul (so well fitted to en- 
 joy all the happiness that he anticipated) neutralized his 
 indignation; he quitted that ancient Egypt, from which 
 he carried away nothing except glory, without regret 
 and without remorse, and, turning his face toward Eu- 
 rope, thought of nothing but France.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 195 
 
 The odious calumny, the stupid invention, relative to 
 the treasures of the Pharaohs, had meanwhile found be- 
 lievers elsewhere, as well as in the army. The English, 
 for example, had been simple enough to give credit to 
 this story. A ship was even cruising off Alexandria, and 
 the merchantman in which Junot had sailed was obliged 
 to bring-to at the first summons of the <( Theseus w man- 
 of-war, Captain Steele; while Junot and his aid-de-camp, 
 Captain Lallemand, had not the power to make the least 
 resistance, how well disposed soever they might have 
 been to do so.* 
 
 Captain Steele was the most impertinent of men, and 
 everybody knows that when the English take up the pro- 
 fession of impertinence they are adepts in it. Junot was 
 a prisoner, and an unhappy prisoner ; all that could aggre- 
 vate the pain of his disagreeable situation was probably 
 studied overnight in the head of the captain, that it 
 might be put in practice the next morning. Junot had 
 with him General Dumuy, the oldest General of Division 
 in the French army; he was no longer young, and was 
 invested with a rank which ought to have insured him 
 not only respect, but honor, especially among military men. 
 
 Well, poor General Dumuy was not only ill-used, which 
 was cruel, but hoaxed, which was infamous. Junot would 
 not put up with any jokes, and I have no need to observe 
 that it would have been dangerous to make the experi- 
 ment with him. Captain Lallemand, on his part, was not 
 more complaisant; one day he well-nigh threw overboard 
 a petty officer who had amused himself by playing him 
 a trick, as he called it. Accordingly Junot and he were 
 at least respected. 
 
 At length, after enduring for four months a treatment 
 which daily became more harsh and insupportable, Junot 
 spoke out, and with such effect that Captain Steele was 
 obliged to tack about and carry his victims to Jaffa, to 
 be delivered up to Commodore Sir Sidney Smith. I shall 
 speak of Sir Sidney by and by; at present I shall only 
 say that he was most polite to the prisoners, and par- 
 ticularly to Junot, but he could not keep them, and for- 
 warded them by way of Cyprus o Arnetta, to be thence 
 
 *They left Alexandria at eight in the evening, and were taken 
 about midnight by the English. «We were waiting for you," said 
 the latter.
 
 196 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 dispatched to Toulon in the ship (< Le Vaillant ; n but it was 
 necessary that an English officer should first go to Palermo 
 to receive the orders of Nelson, who was there with Lady- 
 Hamilton. 
 
 The day after <( Le Vaillant w had anchored in the harbor 
 of Palermo, a very elegant barge, manned by a dozen 
 rowers dressed in white, and wearing black velvet caps 
 ornamented with a silver leopard, came to reconnoiter the 
 frigate. Junot was in his cabin at the moment with 
 General Dumuy. The Captain of <( Le Vaillant* went down 
 to them and told them with the more arrogance, because 
 he fancied that he was backed, (< Come up on deck, gen- 
 tlemen; our hero, the great Admiral Nelson, wishes to 
 see the French prisoners. M Junot eyed the Captain, 
 then, turning his head, he appeared to be looking round 
 about him. 
 
 "Am I to understand that it is to me and the General 
 that you are speaking ? B said he. The Captain bowed. 
 tt And have you the courage to execute this commission ? 
 Well, take back this answer, at least as far as I and my 
 officers are concerned; go and tell your Admiral — who to 
 me is neither a hero nor a great man, for I am accus- 
 tomed to a measure that would be far too large for him 
 — go and tell him that I am not his prisoner, but the 
 prisoner of his Government; that if I were I would not 
 obey an order given with the brutality with which you 
 would treat strange beasts that you might have brought 
 from Egypt, and of which you were the keeper. If 
 Admiral Nelson wishes to see me he knows where to 
 find me. Say further, he is my superior, his rank is 
 higher than mine; had he civilly expressed a desire to 
 see me I would have gone to him that instant. Now the 
 insult is offered it is too late for him to recede. I do 
 not seek to impose my opinions upon anyone, w continued 
 Junot, turning to General Dumuy, who, from the com- 
 mencement of the discussion kept close behind him, jog- 
 ging his elbow, and pulling a face that was enough to 
 make the merriest cry or the most sorrowful laugh. (< I 
 have said what I thought, and what I would do, that is 
 all; you are at liberty to act as you please. w The good 
 man, if he had had his own way, would have gone up 
 deck, and walked about somewhat after the manner 
 of a white bear in his den.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 197 
 
 The Captain delivered Junot's answer to Nelson, who 
 had the spirit to feel the full force of it. Junot, in his 
 spleen, had said what he was far from thinking, for he 
 admired Nelson, and did not conceal it; but how can you 
 abstain entirely from offensive language when a victorious 
 enemy would insult you ? 
 
 It is to be presumed that Junot's conduct was appreci- 
 ated by Nelson; for the same evening he sent hin 
 large basket filled with fruit, preserves, and some bottles 
 of claret. Lady Hamilton had added some oranges to the 
 present. Junot rightly thought that it would show bad taste 
 to refuse it; he therefore accepted it, and expressed his 
 thanks with a gratitude which he really felt. After 
 all, if what he had said to the Captain was faithfully 
 reported to the Admiral, this tacit reparation of his 
 affront, or perhaps of that offered by the Captain of 
 the <( Theseus, B argues great magnanimity in his char- 
 acter. 
 
 Nelson, however, canceled Sir Sidney Smith's orders 
 for the return of the prisoners to France, and they were 
 conveyed to Port Mahon, there to await the answer of 
 the Admiralty. That answer could not be doubtful, but 
 it might be delayed some time, and to remain longer 
 under the yoke of the Captain of the frigate was beyond 
 the bounds of human patience. 
 
 Sir Sidney Smith appeared to Junot under an aspect 
 which, though different from that of Nelson, was not 
 more encouraging in regard to social life, and the inter- 
 course which there must be between two men living, if 
 not under the same roof, on the same deck, and which 
 was about to be established between them. General 
 Bonaparte was not mistaken in regard to the real cause 
 of the disasters consequent upon the long resistance of 
 St. Jean d'Acre. In his mind, Sir Sidney Smith and 
 those disasters were inseparable. 
 
 Those around him, who so easily caught the reflection 
 of his enmities and his friendships, when, like Junot in 
 particular, they lived in his life, beheld in Sir Sidney a 
 man to whom General Bonaparte had a strong dislike, 
 and to whom, of course, they took a dislike also. 
 * Nevertheless, * said Junot to me one day, w the Em- 
 peror always regarded Sir Sidney Smith as a man of 
 honor, and he said as much; only he thought him mad;
 
 198 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 and he could not comprehend, he said, how a sensible 
 man could attempt such insane things. * 
 
 The first moments were of course irksome; but this 
 did not last long. Sir Sidney and Junot, when they be- 
 came acquainted, conceived a high esteem for one another. 
 Junot said that Sir Sidney was chivalry personified, with 
 all its bravery and generosity. They passed together 
 about two months, which would have appeared short 
 to Junot had he not been anxious to return to France. 
 Every consideration was absorbed by that desire, which 
 became a real homesickness. Sir Sidney perceived it, 
 and strove to expedite his return to France, as if he had 
 been his own brother. It was to the active influence of 
 Sir Sidney Smith that Junot was indebted for the cartel 
 of exchange, the original of which I have carefully pre- 
 served. It is scarcely necessary to remark that ten 
 English prisoners were released in exchange for him. 
 
 Junot continued to cherish the most affectionate regard 
 for the Commodore. Notwithstanding the war, they 
 wrote and sent presents to one another. In spite of all 
 his efforts, however, Sir Sidney could not obtain the 
 entire exchange of Junot, who could not serve against 
 England till the business was finally settled. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 The Returned Emigrants — Portraits from Nature — MM. de Bouille 
 and Madame de Contades — Drawing-Room Scenes — My Mother's 
 Ball — The Rival Beauties — Madame Leclerc's Ears — My Mother's 
 Conversation with Paulette — MM. de Perigord — Despreaus's As- 
 semblies. 
 
 Among the ladies who had recently returned to France, 
 and who were frequent visitors at my mother's 
 house, there was one who is still vividly present 
 to my recollection as though I had seen her only a few 
 days since. This was Madame de Contades, the daughter 
 and sister of the MM. de Bouille" who distinguished them- 
 at the affair of Varennes. 
 Madame de Contades was a person whose appearance 
 never failed to make a profound impression at first sight.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 199 
 
 She was not remarkable for beauty, but there was some- 
 thing very pleasing about her. There was an expression 
 in her look and smile which I never observed in any 
 but one woman besides herself. She was not gloomy, 
 far from it; and yet one could scarcely venture to laugh 
 in her presence unless she first set the example. When 
 she turned round her goddesslike head, crowned with 
 luxuriant black hair, and cast a glance at anyone, that 
 look was a command which exacted obedience. 
 
 Her hatred of Bonaparte was exceedingly amusing. 
 She would not grant him the merit of deserving his 
 military fame. (< Pshaw ! * she would say when my mother 
 spoke of his victories in Italy and Egypt ; <( I could do 
 as much with a look." She was no less diverting when 
 Bonaparte's sisters came under her review. She would 
 not acknowledge the beauty of Madame Leclerc any 
 more than the glory of her brother. Her eccentric opin- 
 ion on this subject once gave rise to a tragi-comic inci- 
 dent at my mother's house. 
 
 Bonaparte had just departed for Egypt; and the differ- 
 ent members of his family, bright with the reflections 
 of the glory he had cast upon them during his brief 
 stay in Paris, had already commenced their novitiate of 
 royalty. Madame Leclerc, who had a taste for abso- 
 lute power, was nothing loath to unite the influence 
 of her brother's reputation to that of her own beauty. 
 That beauty, indeed, appeared so perfect that nobody 
 ever thought of disputing it. As her dominion as yet 
 consisted only of her beauty, she spared no pains to 
 make the most of it; and in this she certainly suc- 
 ceeded, when she did not, as unfortunately too often 
 happened, display the airs of an insufferable, spoiled child. 
 
 One evening my mother gave a ball at her residence 
 in the Rue Sainte Croix. She had invited, according to 
 her custom, the most select society of the Faubourg 
 St. Germain. As to the other party, the only indi- 
 viduals belonging to it were the Bonaparte family, and 
 a few gentlemen, who, like M. de Trenis, were fine 
 dancers, and were for that reason regularly invited by 
 the few families who gave parties at that time. 
 
 Madame Leclerc informed us that she had prepared 
 for the occasion a dress which, to use her own expres- 
 sion, she expected would immortalize her. This dress
 
 200 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 was a subject of the most serious consideration with her, 
 at least a week before she was destined to wear it, and 
 she enjoined the strictest secrecy on Madame Germon 
 and Charbonnier.* She requested permission to dress at 
 our house, which she frequently did in order that she 
 might enter the ballroom with her dress completely 
 fresh and in all its beauty. 
 
 Only those who knew Madame Leclerc at that time 
 can form any idea of the impression she produced on 
 entering my mother's drawing-room. The headdress 
 consisted of bandelettes of a very soft fine kind of fur, 
 of a tiger pattern. These bandelettes were surmounted 
 by bunches of grapes in gold; but the hair was not 
 dressed so high as it is now worn. She was a faithful 
 copy of a Bacchante, such as are seen in antique statues 
 or cameos; and in truth, the form of Madame Leclerc's 
 head, and the classic regularity of her features, embold- 
 ened her to attempt an imitation which would have been 
 hazardous in most women. 
 
 Her robe of exquisitely fine India muslin had a deep 
 bordering of gold; the pattern was of grapes and vine 
 leaves. With this she wore a tunic of the purest Greek 
 form, with a bordering similiar to her dress, which dis- 
 played her fine figure to admirable advantage. This 
 tunic was confined on the shoulders by cameos of great 
 value. The sleeves, which were very short, were lightly 
 gathered on small bands which were also fastened with 
 cameos. Her girdle, which was placed below the bosom, 
 as is seen in the Greek statues, consisted of a gold band, 
 the clasp of which was a superbly cut antique stone. 
 She entered the drawing-room without her gloves, dis- 
 playing her beautiful white round arms, which were 
 adorned with gold bracelets. 
 
 It is impossible to describe the effect her appearance 
 produced. Her entrance seemed absolutely to illumine 
 the room. The perfect harmony in every part of the 
 beautiful whole elicited a buzz of admiration, which was 
 not very complimentary to the other ladies present. The 
 gentlemen all thronged round her as she advanced 
 toward a seat which my mother had reserved for her, for 
 Paulette was a particular favorite of my mother's, who, 
 indeed, regarded her almost as her own child. 
 * A milliner and a hairdresser at that time much in favor.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 201 
 
 The ladies were all much piqued at the beauty 
 the elegant dress of Mademoiselle Bonaparte, the wife of 
 General Leclerc. They whispered to one another, but 
 loud enough to be heard by Paulette, that such an im- 
 pudent display of extravagance was exceedingly unbe- 
 coming in a woman who had been almost starved only 
 three years before. But these expressions of female envy 
 were speedily drowned by the admiration of the other sex. 
 
 The beauty of Madame de Contades was entirely 
 eclipsed, and soon after Madame Leclerc's entrance she 
 found herself abandoned by her circle of admirers ; or if 
 any of them approached her, it was only to make some 
 provoking remark complimentary to the charms of Paul- 
 ette. (< Give me your arm, * said she to a gentleman near 
 her, and the next moment the Diana-like figure of Ma- 
 dame de Contades was seen moving across the drawing- 
 room and advancing toward Madame Leclerc. 
 
 The latter had withdrawn to my mother's boudoir, 
 because, she said, the heat of the drawing-room and the 
 motion of the dancers made her ill; though, I believe, 
 the true reason was that a long sofa in the boudoir 
 afforded her the opportunity of displaying her graceful 
 figure and attitudes to the best advantage. This ma- 
 nceuver, however, proved unlucky for her. 
 
 The room was small and brilliantly lighted; and as 
 Madame Leclerc reclined upon the sofa a stream of light 
 descended full upon her head. Madame de Contades 
 looked at her attentively; and instead of making any of 
 the ill-natured observations which had fallen from the 
 other ladies, she first admired the dress, then the figure, 
 then the face. Returning a second time to the coiffure, 
 she expatiated on its taste and elegance; then suddenly 
 turning to the gentleman on whose arm she was lean- 
 ing, she exclaimed, <( Ah, mon Dieu! mon Dieu! how un- 
 fortunate that such a pretty woman should be deformed! 
 Did you never observe it ? What a pity it is ! B 
 
 Had these exclamations been uttered in the drawing- 
 room it is probable that the sound of the music and the 
 dancing would have drowned Madame de Contades's voice, 
 though she generally spoke in a pretty loud tone; as it 
 was, every word resounded through the little boudoir, 
 and the scarlet which suffused the face of Madame Leclerc 
 was much too deep to improve her beauty.
 
 202 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 Madame de Contades fixed her eyes of fire on Paulette, 
 as if she would look her through, and the tone of com- 
 passion in which she uttered the words, "What a pity!* 
 sufficiently informed Paulette that her triumph was at an 
 end. All this (which perhaps I have described with 
 rather too much prolixity) took place in the space of 
 little more than a minute; but these details are neces- 
 sary to show the mode in which the attack was man- 
 aged, and the success with which a woman of ingenuity 
 may avenge her wounded vanity. 
 
 <( What is the matter ? M inquired some one who stood 
 near Madame de' Contades. (< The matter ! w said she. <( do 
 you not see the two enormous ears which disfigure either 
 side of her head. I declare if I had such a pair of ears 
 I would have them cut off, and I will advise Madame 
 Leclerc to do so. There can be no harm in advising a 
 woman to have her ears cut off. w 
 
 All eyes were now turned toward Madame Leclerc 's 
 head, not, as before, to admire it, but to wonder at the 
 deformity with which its beauty was disfigured. The 
 truth is, that Nature must have been in one of her most 
 capricious moods when she placed two such ears on the 
 right and left of a charming face. They were merely 
 pieces of thin white cartilage, almost without any curl- 
 ing; but this cartilage was not enormous, as Madame de 
 Contades said; it was merely ugly, by contrast with the 
 beautiful features which accompanied it. 
 
 A young woman but little accustomed to society is 
 easily embarrassed; this was the case with Madame 
 Leclerc when she read in the faces of her surrounding 
 admirers the effect produced by the remarks af Madame 
 de Contades. The result of this scene was that Paulette 
 burst into tears, and on the plea of indisposition retired 
 before midnight. Next morning my mother went to see 
 her. She, of course, said nothing about the ears, which 
 were then concealed beneath a nightcap trimmed with 
 lace; for Madame Leclerc was in the habit of receiving 
 visits, even the most formal ones, in bed. She took her 
 revenge by assailing Madame de Contades, whom she 
 certainly did not spare. My mother allowed her to go 
 on for some time, for she was aware that she had been 
 deeply piqued. 
 
 "I cannot imagine, M said Madame Leclerc, "what can
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTfiS 203 
 
 make that great tall Maypole such a favorite with all 
 the men ! I am sure there are many women much more 
 attractive in the circle of your acquaintance. There was 
 one who sat near her last evening in your drawing-room, 
 whom I think much handsomer; and she was very well 
 dressed, too. She had a robe and Grecian tunic, just 
 like mine. But/ added she, in as serious a tone as though 
 she had been speaking of the most important affair in 
 the world, (< hers was embroidered in silver, and mine in 
 gold. That did not become her: she is not fair enough 
 for silver. w 
 
 Patience was not my mother's virtue ; and on hearing this 
 she rose from her chair, evidently displeased. (< Paulette," 
 said she, (< my dear girl, you are crazy — absolutely crazy! B 
 The person of whom Madame Leclerc was speaking was 
 a little fat woman with a short neck and turned-up nose, 
 and so extremely shortsighted that she was continually 
 winking her eyes. In a word, she was the very reverse 
 of Madame de Contades. 
 
 <( I assure you, Madame Permon, I think Madame 
 Chauvelin an elegant woman; she is clever, too, without 
 being satirical. w <( Whether Madame Chauvelin be elegant 
 or not is a matter of very little consequence, * replied 
 my mother; (< as to her cleverness, I know she has a good 
 deal. But, my dear Paulette, you are strangely mistaken 
 if you live in the belief that she is not satirical when 
 anything of a ridiculous kind presents itself to her notice. 
 She can observe, shortsighted as she is. w This affair 
 set Madame Leclerc for a long time in violent hostility 
 to Madame de Contades; though I am sure the latter 
 lady never thought of it from the moment she put on 
 her shawl to leave my mother's party. 
 
 About this period M. de Talleyrand had persuaded a 
 great portion of his family to return from emigration. 
 His two brothers, Archambaud and Bozon de Perigord, 
 came to France. The former had been forced to fly to 
 save his life, and left behind him a wife and three 
 children. His wife died shortly after his departure. M. 
 Louis Perigord, the eldest of his three children, was a 
 man whose rare qualities rendered him an ornament to 
 society. He enjoyed the favor of Bonaparte, who knew 
 how to appreciate merit. 
 
 There was a lady, a friend of my mother, who like
 
 204 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 her had the courage to receive company and give balls 
 at this time. This was Madame de Caseaux, wife of the 
 President of the Parliament of Bordeaux. She was a dis- 
 tant relation of M. Talleyrand. She had an only daughter, 
 Laure de Caseaux, who was then the richest heiress in 
 France. The fortune of M. de Caseaux was estimated at 
 eight or nine millions of francs. Madame de Caseaux 
 occupied the Hotel de Perigord in the Rue l'Universite, 
 which now belongs to Marshal Soult. There she gave, 
 in the suite of apartments on the ground floor, the first 
 splendid balls which took place in Paris after the Revolu- 
 tion. But these balls represented the Faubourg Saint 
 Germain in all its purity; and I do not recollect having 
 seen the face of any individual of the opposite party ex- 
 cept Junot, and that not until after our marriage. 
 
 There was another house in Paris at which good com- 
 pany and agreeable parties were to be met, though money 
 was paid for admittance. This was the house of Despreaux, 
 the fashionable dancing master. I was his pupil, and at 
 first these assemblies consisted only of his pupils; but 
 they soon became so fashionable that Despreaux was 
 obliged to remove to a larger house in order to receive 
 all who wished to subscribe to them. 
 
 It was there I first met Mademoiselle Perregaux, be- 
 fore she was married to General Marmont. She used to 
 be accompanied by a sort of governante, who, instead of 
 having any control over her, appeared to be entirely sub- 
 missive to her authority. Mademoiselle Perregaux was 
 pretty, but my mother could never reconcile herself to 
 the freedom of her manners. Madame Bonaparte some- 
 times brought her daughter to Despreaux's assemblies. 
 Hortense de Beauharnais was then a charming girl, but 
 I will take another opportunity of drawing her portrait ; 
 it deserves to be more than a light sketch.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 The 18th of Fructidor — Hocbe — Probable Manner of His Death — Ma- 
 dame de Re c and Madame Tallien — Flags Presented to the 
 
 Directory by Junot — Madame Bonaparte — Junot Escorts Her to 
 Italy — Mademoiselle Louise. 
 
 An event which took place immediately after the 18th 
 of Fructidor overwhelmed us with grief, for we 
 were intimately acquainted with the relatives and 
 friends of the victim who was sacrificed. I here allude 
 to the death of Hoche, which may be regarded as an 
 event in the history of our Revolution. The loss of 
 Joubert and Hoche have usually been regarded as military 
 misfortunes, like the fate of Marceaux, and subsequently 
 of Desaix, but the case was different. With his military 
 talent Hoche combined extensive abilities of various 
 kinds, and he was a citizen as well as a soldier. When 
 he was sent to La Vendee he quelled dissension, more 
 perhaps by his talents and conciliating manners than by 
 his sword, though he could use it well. Like Joubert, he 
 loved and revered his country. 
 
 I did not know much of General Hoche personally, 
 but since his death I have been furnished with some 
 curious details respecting him. When his death was 
 made known, the public voice rose in an accusing out- 
 cry against the Directory. I am satisfied that Hoche 
 was the constant object of the hatred of a party then 
 unfortunately powerful, though acting in the shade. It 
 was discovered that the sum of 800,000 francs had been 
 embezzled, and it was alleged that the Commander of 
 the Army of the Sambre and the Meuse had divided it 
 among the officers of his staff. A lady for whom Hoche 
 cherished a deep interest, and who is living at the time 
 I write, received from him at the time letters in which 
 he begged her to raise some money by way of loan at 
 any price. <c Above all, * said he in one of these letters, 
 <( I should blush if France knew that one of the Generals- 
 in-Chief of her armies should be obliged to borrow money 
 to replace the horses which have been killed under him 
 by the enemy's bullets. 8
 
 206 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUXOT 
 
 Nothing, it appears to me, can be more conclusive than 
 the language of a man thus addressing a woman who 
 possessed his entire confidence. The lady to whom these 
 letters were addressed resided in Paris, and she favored 
 me, only a few days before these pages were written, with 
 another glance at the correspondence, to which she at- 
 tached the highest value. 
 
 In another letter General Hoche says : <( Do they wish 
 me to come to Paris to renew the scandalous scene of 
 the 18th of June ?* If they do, I will come, and in my 
 turn tear to pieces their embroidered coats. Let them 
 not provoke me." Alas! the unfortunate General ought 
 not to have provoked an enemy who was alike cowardly, 
 criminal, and feeble. Scarcely one month elapsed after 
 the date of this last letter, and Hoche was no more. An 
 almost unanimous voice pronounced sentence of murder 
 against those who ought to have placed the civic crown 
 on the head of Hoche instead of consigning him to the 
 grave. As to my own opinion, I entertain a firm con- 
 viction that General Hoche died by assassination. His 
 tragical death forms a remarkable event in our revolution- 
 ary history. 
 
 I must now revert to a few circumstances of anterior 
 date for the better explanation of some facts which are 
 to follow. Shortly before the Revolution my father, in 
 the course of his financial business, was engaged in rather 
 a curious affair, which at the time was but little known, 
 because one of the two parties concerned belonged to the 
 Polignac family. While this affair was pending my 
 mother was introduced to some of the individuals con- 
 cerned, among others to Madame de Re c, a natural 
 
 daughter of the Marquis de St. A n. 
 
 When, in 1796, the revolutionary troubles had some- 
 what subsided, and people who had been dispersed in 
 various directions once more thronged to Paris, my 
 mother, to her great astonishment, one day met Madame 
 
 de Re c at Tivoli. The lady was splendidly dressed 
 
 in an extravagant style of fashion. She was walking be- 
 tween two gentlemen; the one on the right was a collet 
 
 * He here alludes to the indecorous scene which took place between 
 de Lahaye and another deputy, who actually fought until they tore 
 each other's clothes, in the place where sittings of the legislative body 
 were held.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 207 
 
 noir, and the one on the left an orcille dc cJiicn. She 
 was speaking with a paole pafumde, and giving herself all 
 the airs of a perfect incroyable. She seemed overjoyed to 
 see my mother, who was rather a formidable person to be 
 
 encountered by such a woman as Madame de Re c. I 
 
 recollect that she was put quite out of countenance by 
 the somewhat satirical look of my mother when she 
 scanned her from head to foot with the cool self- 
 possession of the true Parisian tttgante. 
 
 When Madame de Re c behaved naturally she was 
 
 a lively and agreeable woman. She recovered her cour- 
 age, and called upon us next day. She told us a great 
 deal about the Directorial court, with which she was 
 well acquainted, and about Madame Tallien, who, accord- 
 ing to her account, was the prototype of all that was 
 fair and good in the world — a perfect divinity. 
 
 My mother was a woman, and a beautiful woman, 
 whose opinions were not in unison with those which 
 were professed in the salon of Madame Tallien, yet she 
 never withheld her admiration from other females when 
 she felt that it could be justly conferred. My mother 
 had been much struck with the beauty of Madame Tal- 
 lien, and knew too many facts relative to her excellent 
 conduct at Bordeaux not to be convinced that all the 
 praises conferred on her were well deserved. 
 
 The life of Madame Tallien was one of the most ex- 
 traordinary and diversified I ever knew. She might have 
 become the French Aspasia, and with much greater ad- 
 vantages than were enjoyed by the Aspasia of Athens, 
 with whom her wit, her beauty, and her political influ- 
 ence may serve to establish a comparison. She certainly 
 might have been appreciated much more than Aspasia 
 in spite of the refined taste of the Athenians, though 
 neither of her husbands was a Pericles. 
 
 The destiny of Madame Tallien was as singular as her- 
 self. She was born in Spain, where her father, M. de 
 Cabarrus, a French banker, settled, and had acquired a 
 great reputation. At twelve years of age Theresa Ca- 
 barrus was the loveliest of all the beauties of Cadiz. 
 Her father sent her from home at that early age, be- 
 cause he was still too young to take upon himself the 
 superintendence of so beautiful a daughter. She was seen 
 about this period by her uncle Jalabert, who could not
 
 208 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 escape the fascination which the lovely Theresa, with a 
 look and a smile, exercised upon every man who beheld 
 her. He wished to marry her, but she gave the prefer- 
 ence to M. de Fontenay, to whom she was united some 
 time after. With a cultivated mind, and intellectual 
 powers of a high order, Madame Tallien would have pos- 
 sessed, even without her beauty, more than an ordinary 
 share of attractions. 
 
 While she was at Bordeaux she composed a discourse 
 on some abstract subject, which was intended to be read 
 by way of a sermon, a custom which was at that time 
 prevalent. She, however, had not courage to read it her- 
 self, and she requested M. Jullien to read it for her. 
 
 She was present on the occasion, and the audience 
 were much more attentive to her than to the heavy and 
 monotonous eloquence of the person who delivered the 
 discourse. She was dressed in a riding habit of dark- 
 blue casimere, with yellow buttons, and collar and cuffs 
 of red velvet. Upon her beautiful black hair, which was 
 cut a la Titus, and clustered in graceful curls round her 
 face, she wore, a little on one side, a cap of scarlet velvet 
 trimmed with fur; in this costume her beauty was really 
 dazzling. At intervals the expression of her countenance 
 showed that she was a little out of humor at the manner 
 in which the discourse was read, and on the following 
 Decadi* she read it herself in the church of the Francis- 
 cans. 
 
 Madame Tallien was kind and obliging, but such is the 
 effect on the multitude of a name that bears a stain that 
 her cause was never separated from that of her husband. 
 The following is a proof of this. Junot was the bearer 
 of the second flags which were sent from the Army of 
 Italy to the Directory. He was received with the same 
 pomp which attended the reception of Marmont, who was 
 the bearer of the first colors. 
 
 Madame Bonaparte, who had not yet set out to join 
 Napoleon, wished to witness the ceremony, and on the 
 day appointed for the reception of Junot she repaired to 
 the Directory, accompanied by Madame Tallien. They 
 lived at that time in great intimacy; the latter was a re- 
 flection of the Directorial royalty, with which Josephine 
 when Madame Beauharnais, and, indeed, after she 
 
 ♦Day of Rest.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 209 
 
 became Madame Bonaparte, was in some degree invested. 
 Madame Bonaparte was still a fine woman; her teeth, it 
 is true, were already frightfully decayed, but when her 
 mouth was closed, she looked, especially at a little dis- 
 tance, both young and pretty. As to Madame Tallien, 
 she was then in the full bloom of her beauty. Both 
 were dressed in the antique style, which was then the 
 prevailing fashion, and with as much of richness and 
 ornament as were suitable to morning costume. 
 
 When the reception was ended and they were about to 
 leave the Directory, it may be presumed that Junot was 
 not a little proud to offer to escort these two charming 
 women. Junot was then a handsome young man of five 
 and twenty, and he had that military look and style for 
 which, indeed, he was always remarkable. A splendid 
 uniform of a Colonel of Hussars set off his fine figure to 
 the utmost advantage. When the ceremony was ended 
 he offered one arm to Madame Bonaparte, who, as his 
 General's wife, was entitled to the first honor, especially 
 on that solemn day; and, offering his other arm to 
 Madame Tallien. he conducted them down the staircase 
 of the Luxembourg. The crowd pressed forward to see 
 them as they passed along. 
 
 <( That is the General's wife, w said one. "That is his 
 aid-de-camp, * said another. <( He is very young. M (< She 
 is very pretty. Vive le Ge'ne'ral Bonaparte ! Vive la 
 Citoyenne Bonaparte ! She is a good friend to the poor. * 
 (< Ah ! ® exclaimed a great fat market-woman ; c< she is 
 Notre Dame des Victoires ! w c< You are right, B said an- 
 other ; (< and see who is on the other side of the officer ; 
 that is Notre Davie de Septembre ! w This was severe, and 
 it was also unjust. 
 
 Junot escorted Madame Bonaparte when she went to 
 join the General in Chief in Italy. I am surprised that 
 M. de Bourrienne has omitted mentioning this circum- 
 stance in his (< Memoirs. w He must have known it, since 
 he was well acquainted with everything relating to 
 Josephine, and knew many facts of high interest in her 
 life at this period and subsequently. How happens it, 
 too, that he makes no mention of Mademoiselle Louise, 
 who might be called her companion instead of her femine 
 de chambre ? At the outset of the journey to Italy she 
 was such a favorite with Josephine that she dressed like 
 14
 
 2io MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUXOT 
 
 her mistress, sat at table with her, and was in all respects 
 her friend and confidante. 
 
 The journey was long, much too long for Junot, though 
 he was very much in love with Mademoiselle Louise. 
 But he was anxious to join the army, for to him his 
 General was always the dearest of mistresses. Junot has 
 often spoken to me, and to me aloxe, of the vexations 
 he experienced on this journey. He might have added 
 to his circumstantial details relative to Josephine the 
 conversation he is reported to have had with Bonaparte 
 in Egypt;* but he never breathed a word on the sub- 
 ject, for his character was always noble and generous. 
 
 The journey to Italy did not produce the effect which 
 usually arises from such incidents in common life — 
 namely, a closer friendship and intimacy between the 
 parties. On the contrary, Madame Bonaparte from that 
 moment evinced some degree of ill-humor toward Junot, 
 and complained with singular warmth of the want of 
 respect which he had shown her, in making love to her 
 femme de chambre before her face. 
 
 At a .subsequent period, however, Madame Bonaparte 
 thought no more about Mademoiselle Louise or the want 
 of respect shown by the aid-de-camp and faithful friend; 
 indeed, I believe she thought but little about Bonaparte 
 himself. I shall, by and by, notice the subject which then 
 absorbed all her thoughts. 
 
 Madame de Re c often spoke to us about Madame 
 
 Bonaparte, whom she frequently saw at the Directory 
 when she was not exclusively engrossed by the charms 
 of her Garden of Armida. On this subject Madame de 
 
 Re c furnished us with some amusing particulars, 
 
 from which Lucien and the whole family, but especially 
 Madame Leclerc, drew very unfavorable inferences for the 
 future happiness of their brother. 
 
 * See Bourrienne's (< Memoirs. w
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTEs 211 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 Moreau Takes the Command of the Army of Italy — Championnet — The 
 Assassination of Rastadt — Destruction of the Regiment of Scheklers 
 — General Joubert — The Two Suchets — Anecdote of Bonaparte and 
 the Ordonnateur Chauvet — The Two Sleeping Nymphs — Bonaparte 
 at Vingt et Un. 
 
 On reaching Italy, Junot served under Moreau, who 
 took the command of 40,000 men, the sad wreck of 
 our military force in Italy, and marched to meet 
 the enemy. The movements of the Austro-Russian army 
 commanded by Suwarrow were, however, better com- 
 bined than his; the consequence was that Moreau was 
 defeated in the battle of Cassano, losing - nearly all his 
 artillery, and 15,000 men killed, wounded, or prisoners. 
 
 Championnet once more brought back victory to our 
 standards by defeating General Mack and taking Naples ; 
 but the Directory determined to sacrifice the glory of 
 one of her sons on the altar of his country, and Cham- 
 pionnet was deprived of his command, arrested, tried by 
 a court-martial, and was on the point of being shot. All 
 this was because he resisted the designs of certain base 
 and avaricious proconsuls. Championnet's force was con- 
 signed to the command of Macdonald, and did not join 
 Moreau's army till after the Battle of the Trebia, where 
 we lost 8,000 of our troops. 
 
 About this time, in the west of France, the Chouans 
 were raising their odious standard, and the roads of La 
 Vendee were drenched anew with the blood of French- 
 men. Our plenipotentiaries were massacred at Rastadt 
 by the Schekler hussars, and, notwithstanding the in- 
 dignation expressed by all France at that atrocity, 
 vengeance was still very tardy in overtaking the assassins. 
 The two Councils were the first to render a melancholy 
 tribute of honor to the victims. Who that saw that 
 ceremony can ever forget its solemnity ? Who can 
 recollect without emotion the religious silence which 
 reigned throughout the hall and tribunes when the vote 
 was put ? The President then turned toward the curule 
 chair of the victim, on which lay the official costume of
 
 2i2 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 the assassinated representative, covered with black crape, 
 bent over it, and pronouncing the names of Robertjot 
 and Bonnier, added in a voice the tone of which was 
 always thrilling: 
 
 w Assassinated at the Congress of Rastadt!" 
 
 Immediately all the representatives responded: 
 
 c< May their blood be upon the heads of their murderers! * 
 
 This crime was long attributed to the Court of Austria, 
 but I have positive evidence that the Queen of Naples 
 and the Colonel of the Schekler regiment were the sole 
 authors of the murder. I do not now recollect at what 
 battle it was that the Schekler hussars were in such a 
 situation as obliged them to capitulate. Their consciences 
 told them, however, that they ought not to expect 
 quarter. <( Will you make us prisoners ? B demanded the 
 Commander of the corps. He received for answer an 
 exclamation of rage and indignation : <( Defend yourselves, 
 wretches! The whole of the regiment was exterminated. 
 
 Another misfortune which befell France about this 
 period was the death of Joubert, who was killed at the 
 Battle of Novi, at the time when, touched by the miseries 
 of his country he forgot her offenses and felt nothing 
 but her danger. Joubert was the friend of Championnet. 
 On the latter being arrested, he sent his resignation to 
 the Directory, and it was long ere he would again enter the 
 service. "When he did, he was first appointed to the 
 command of the seventeenth military division, the head- 
 quarters of which were then in Paris, and a few weeks 
 after to the command of the Army of Italy. 
 
 The striking similarity of situation between Joubert 
 and Bonaparte is most remarkable. Both were of equal 
 age, and both, in their early career, suffered a sort of 
 disgrace ; each was finally appointed to command first the 
 seventeenth military division, and afterward the Army 
 of Italy. There is in all this a curious parity of events'; 
 but death soon ended the career of one of the young 
 heroes. That which ought to have constituted the happi- 
 ness of his life was the cause of Joubert's death; namely, 
 his marriage. But how could he refrain from loving the 
 man he espoused? Ah! who can have forgotten
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 213 
 
 Zephirine de Montholon, her enchanting grace, her 
 playful wit, her good humor, and her beauty! What deli- 
 cacy and spirit on her features! I think Joubert was very 
 pardonable. 
 
 The mention of Joubert brings to my recollection a 
 story about Bonaparte and the two Suchets (the Marshal 
 and his brother), who were the intimate friends of jou- 
 bert. The circumstance I am about to relate happened 
 a little after the siege of Toulon. The town had been 
 in the possession of the French for some weeks, and al- 
 though his military and official duties might naturally 
 have been expected to fill up his time completely, there 
 were still some hours of the day which hung heavy on 
 Bonaparte's hands. 
 
 Chauvet, the Commissary-in-Chief, had private affairs 
 of his own which kept him free from ennui, but Bona- 
 parte was entirely disengaged. The Director of the 
 Maritime Works (or some such officer) had two very hand- 
 some daughters, on one of whom Chauvet bestowed all 
 his attention. Junot likewise had contrived to fill up his 
 time in a similar way; but Bonaparte, as I have said, 
 was, in the midst of his occupations, the prey of ennui. 
 One day he said to Chauvet, (< I must go and dine with 
 Suchet; tell him I am coming. B 
 
 But for the better explanation of what follows it is 
 necessary to premise that Suchet, then Chef de bataillon, 
 was in quarters at La Seille, a pretty little village sit- 
 uated on the the very lowest point of the Bay of Toulon. 
 Suchet occupied a small house, the property of the father 
 of the two fair maidens above mentioned, with one of 
 whom Chauvet was in love. The father and daughters 
 were accordingly invited to dine with the party of young 
 men, the eldest of whom had not reached his twenty-fifth 
 year. 
 
 Suchet* received his guest in his usual way, his face 
 beaming with pleasure and good-humor, and seeming to 
 say, <( Welcome, welcome to my house!" His brother 
 Gabriel acted the part of housekeeper, and provided an 
 excellent dinner. Gabriel was also an amiable and good- 
 tempered man, and did all he could that day to make 
 eight or ten young madcaps happy. But as pleasure 
 must have a term, it was necessary to think of retiring 
 
 * Afterward the Marshal Due d'Albufera.
 
 214 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 home. This, however, was found to be impracticable; 
 for, while the company were enjoying themselves, there 
 had been a great fall of snow, succeeded by a hard frost, 
 which rendered communication with the village impos- 
 sible ; it was, besides, very foggy. 
 
 However, with punch, conversation, and laughter, they 
 amused themselves for a few hours longer ; but they had 
 to wait for the dawn of day. There was but one bed in 
 all the house — that in which the two brothers slept. 
 What was to be done ? It was then proposed that the 
 two ladies should occupy it; but as the bedchamber was 
 the only room in the house in which a fire could be 
 lighted, they would not hear of it. 
 
 Bonaparte, who then abhorred what he called dull 
 faces, proposed a game at vingt et un. It was usually 
 the most laughable thing in the world to see him play 
 at any game whatever; he, whose quick perception and 
 prompt judgment immediately seized on and mastered 
 everything which came in his way, was, curiously 
 enough, never able to understand the manoeuvres of any 
 game, however simple. Thus, his only resource was to 
 cheat. 
 
 Well, for some time, vingt et un kept the company 
 alive. But the cold soon overpowered the girls; slumber 
 stole upon them, in spite of their efforts to banish it, 
 and of the glances of Chauvet. At length they could 
 hold out no longer, but threw themselves on the bed, 
 which stood in a corner of the room, and fell forthwith 
 into a sound sleep. Cold, as well as fire, acts as a 
 soporific; and it was not long before all the company, 
 except Bonaparte and Gabriel Suchet, were snoring. 
 Some stretched themselves on wooden benches, which 
 stood around the chamber, and some on chairs, while 
 Bonaparte and Gabriel spent the whole night, a winter's 
 night — that is to say, seven hours at least — in playing 
 at vingt et un. Bonaparte's eyelids never once dropped. 
 Occasionally he would turn his eyes toward the bed and 
 look at the young girls; and when sometimes Gabriel 
 Suchet pointed out the elegant position in which one of 
 them lay, he would smile, but with an air of apathy, 
 rather singular in a young man of twenty-five. The fact 
 is, Bonaparte had but one real passion, and in that all his 
 other feelings were absorbed.
 
 
 -NSl
 
 AT CAIK 
 
 Photogravure after Cenh,,, 
 
 ■ 
 X A POLK OX AT CAIRO 
 


 
 DUCHESS OP ABRANTES 215 
 
 I have heard Gabriel Suchet say that, notwithstanding 
 the many years which have intervened since the occur- 
 rence of this incident, he often thinks he still sees 
 Bonaparte sitting in the armchair, one of his hands sup- 
 porting his head, and the other stretched forward, as he 
 pronounced the continually-repeated words, carte-content. 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 Description of Madame Laetitia — Character of Madame Bacciochi — 
 Intelligence of Bonaparte's Return from Egypt — Josephine Sets off 
 to Meet Him — Bonaparte Refuses to See Her — A Reconciliation 
 Brought About by Hortense and Eugene — Sentiments of the Bona- 
 parte Family toward Josephine. 
 
 I have already observed that Madame Lsetitia Bonaparte 
 was one of the handsomest women in Corsica, 
 though her fine face was wrinkled by many cares. 
 The first time I saw her she was dressed in an absurd 
 way; yet, nevertheless, she made a strong impression 
 upon me. 
 
 Madame Bonaparte was of a lofty and elevated char- 
 acter. A widow at an early age, in a country where the 
 head of a family is everything, the young mother found 
 it necessary to develop all the energy of her character. 
 She was gifted with that delicacy of perception which 
 distinguishes the Corsicans, but in her this quality did 
 not degenerate into hypocrisy, as in some of her children. 
 Indeed, she was habitually frank. She evinced firmness 
 in certain circumstances, but in others obstinacy. This 
 was obvious in a number of the systematic triflings which 
 composed a part of her life. 
 
 She was very ignorant, not only of our literature, but 
 of that of her own country. She had, however, some 
 knowledge of the usual forms of society, of which she 
 had seen a little in the course of her acquaintance with 
 M. de Marboeuf and other distinguished men, who visited 
 much at her house at the time of the occupation of 
 Corsica. But this slight knowledge of the world was to 
 her rather a source of inconvenience than of advantage, 
 inasmuch as it put her in constant dread of committing
 
 2i6 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 some blunder. Her haughtiness, which was not offensive, 
 became dignity when elevated to her new situation. She 
 was kind at heart, but of a cold exterior, possessed of 
 much good sense, but, as I have said, of little shrewd- 
 ness or knowledge of the world; and at the period of 
 which I speak she was very scrupulous in exacting from 
 everybody what she considered her due. 
 
 She was a very good mother, and her children, with 
 one exception, were good to her in their turn. They 
 treated her with every respect, and showed her assidu- 
 ous attention. Lucien and Joseph were particularly at- 
 tached to her. As for Napoleon, he was not so respectful 
 and attentive to his mother as his brothers were; and 
 we shall presently see the cause of his remissness. Madame 
 Bacciochi evinced no particular regard for her mother. 
 But for whom did she ever show regard? I always 
 thought her the most disagreeable woman I had ever met 
 with; and it is quite astonishing to me how M. de 
 Fontanes, a man of such superior mind, such elegant 
 manners, the very essence of sociability, should have 
 admired Madame Bacciochi in the way he did. 
 
 On the evening of the 9th of October my mother had 
 a few friends with her. Madame de Caseaux, her daugh- 
 ter, Madame de Mondenard, my mother, and several 
 gentlemen of our acquaintance were seated at a large 
 round table playing at loto-dauphin, a game of which 
 my mother was very fond. Suddenly a cabriolet drove 
 up to the door, a young gentleman jumped out of it, 
 and in a minute was at the top of the staircase. It was 
 my brother Albert. 
 
 <( Guess what news I bring you!" said he. As we 
 were all in high spirits, and his countenance bespoke 
 him to be so too, all sorts of absurd guesses were made, 
 at which Albert constantly shook his head. "Nonsense!" 
 said my mother, taking up the bag containing the little 
 balls. <c If there were a change in the government of 
 the Republic you could not make it an affair of greater 
 importance. » (< Well mother, » replied Albert seriously, 
 w what you say now in jest may possibly be realized. 
 Bonaparte is in France!" 
 
 When my brother uttered these last words the whole 
 party seemed struck motionless, as if by a magic wand. 
 My mother, who had just drawn a ball out of the bag,
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 217 
 
 held her little hand raised in the air, and the bag hav- 
 ing fallen down, the balls were rolling about the carpet 
 in every direction without exciting the notice of any- 
 body. Everyone sat as if petrified. Albert was the 
 only person who was conscious of the drollery of our 
 position, and a burst of laughter, which he could not 
 repress, brought us to ourselves. 
 
 (< Bonaparte in France ! w exclaimed my mother; "it 
 cannot be possible. I saw his mother this very day at 
 five o'clock, and she had no idea of his return. M <( It is, 
 nevertheless, true," said Albert. <c I was with Brune- 
 tiere just now, when a messenger was sent by Gohier 
 to fetch him. He desired me to wait till he came back 
 from the Luxembourg; and he returned in about half 
 an hour. He informed me that Bonaparte arrived two 
 days ago at Fr6jus. He added that he found Madame 
 Josephine Bonaparte at Gohier's, where she had been 
 dining, and where she received the first announcement 
 of this important intelligence. And," added Albert, 
 speaking in a half whisper to my mother, <( I understand 
 she was not so well pleased as might have been ex- 
 pected. w 
 
 No language can convey any idea of the state of excite- 
 ment occasioned throughout France by Bonaparte's 
 arrival. Bourrienne was right in saying that it amounted 
 to a positive frenzy. From the 9th of October all around 
 us was in continual agitation. On the 10th Josephine set 
 off to meet her husband, but without knowing exactly 
 what road he would take. She thought it likely he would 
 come by way of Burgundy, and therefore Louis and she 
 set off for Lyons. 
 
 Madame Bonaparte was a prey to great and well- 
 founded uneasiness. Whether she was guilty or only 
 imprudent, she was strongly accused by the Bonaparte 
 family, who were desirous that Napoleon should obtain 
 a divorce. The elder M. de Caulaincourt stated to us 
 his apprehensions on this point; but whenever the 
 subject was introduced my mother changed the con- 
 versation, because, knowing as she did the sentiments 
 of the Bonaparte family, she could not reply without 
 either committing them or having recourse to falsehood. 
 
 She knew, moreover, the truth of many circumstances 
 which M. de Caulaincourt seemed to doubt, and which
 
 218 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 her situation with respect to Bonaparte prevented her 
 from communicating to him. 
 
 Madame Bonaparte committed a great fault in neg- 
 lecting at this juncture to conciliate her mother-in-law, 
 who might have protected her against those who sought 
 her ruin and effected it nine years later; for the divorce 
 in 1809 was brought about by the joint efforts of all the 
 members of the Bonaparte family, aided by some of 
 Napoleon's most confidential servants, whom Josephine, 
 either as Madame Bonaparte or as Empress, had done 
 nothing to make her friends. 
 
 Bonaparte, on his arrival in Paris, found his house 
 deserted; but his mother, sisters, and sisters-in-law, and, 
 in short, every member of his family except Louis, who 
 had attended Madame Bonaparte to Lyons, visited him 
 immediately. The impression made upon him by the 
 solitude of his home and its desertion by its mistress 
 was profound and terrible, and nine years afterward, 
 when the ties between him and Josephine were sev- 
 ered forever, he showed that it was not effaced. From 
 not finding her with his family he inferred that she felt 
 herself unworthy of their presence, and feared to meet 
 the man she had wronged. He considered her journey 
 to Lyons as a mere pretense. 
 
 M. de Bourrienne says that for some days after 
 Josephine's return Bonaparte treated her with extreme 
 coldness. As he was an eyewitness, why does he not 
 state the whole truth, and say that on her return Bona- 
 parte REFUSED TO SEE HER, AND DID NOT SEE HER ? It WaS 
 
 to the earnest entreaties of her children that she owed 
 the recovery, not of her husband's love, for that had 
 long ceased, but of that tenderness acquired by habit, 
 and that intimate intercourse which made her still retain 
 the rank of consort to the greatest man of his age. 
 
 Bonaparte was at this period much attached to Eugene 
 Beauharnais, who, to do him justice, was a charming 
 youth. He knew less of Hortense, but her youth and 
 sweetness of temper, and the protection of which as his 
 adopted daughter she besought him not to deprive her, 
 proved powerful advocates, and overcame his resistance. 
 In this delicate negotiation it was good policy not to 
 bring any other persons into play, whatever might be 
 their influence with Bonaparte, and Madame Bonaparte
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 219 
 
 did not therefore have recourse either to Barras, Bour- 
 rienne, or Berthier. It was expedient that they who in- 
 terceded for her should be able to say something without 
 the possibility of a reply. 
 
 Now, Bonaparte could not, with any degree of propriety, 
 explain to such children as Eugene or Hortense the par- 
 ticulars of their mother's conduct. He was there con- 
 strained to silence, and had no argument to combat the 
 tears of two innocent creatures at his feet exclaiming: 
 • Do not abandon our mother; she will break her heart! 
 And ought injustice to take from us poor orphans the 
 support of one whom Providence has sent to replace him 
 of whose natural protection the scaffold has already de- 
 prived us ? w 
 
 The scene, as Bonaparte has since stated, was long 
 and painful, and the two children at length introduced 
 their mother, and placed her in his arms. The unhappy 
 woman had awaited his decision at the door of a small 
 back staircase, extended at almost full length upon the 
 stairs, suffering the acutest pangs of mental torture. 
 
 Whatever might be his wife's errors, Bonaparte ap- 
 peared entirely to forget them, and the reconciliation was 
 complete. Of all the members of the family, Madame 
 Leclerc was most vexed at the pardon which Napoleon 
 had granted to his wife. Bonaparte's mother was also 
 very ill-pleased; but she said nothing. Madame Joseph 
 Bonaparte, who was always very amiable, took no share 
 in these family quarrels; therefore she could easily de- 
 termine what part to take when fortune smiled on 
 Josephine. As to Madame Bacciochi, she gave free vent 
 to her ill-humor and disdain; the consequence was that 
 her sister-in-law could never endure her. Christine, who 
 was a beautiful creature, followed the example of Madame 
 Joseph, and Caroline was so young that her opinion could 
 have no weight in such an affair. As to Bonaparte's 
 brothers, they were at open war with Josephine.
 
 220 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUXOT 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 The Sth of November — My Brother-in-law Visits Bonaparte — My 
 Mother and I Visit Madame Laetitia Bonaparte — The Bonaparte 
 Family During the Sth — Their Danger — Moreau Appointed Gaoler 
 of the Directors — Moreau's Character Drawn by Bonaparte — M. 
 Branetiere and Gohier — Moreau's Harshness toward Gohier — 
 Moulins — Fouche's Measures — Singular Ignorance of the Bonaparte 
 Family with Regard to the Events of the Sth of November — Madame 
 Laetitia Relates Napoleon's Birth — A Curious Conversation Respect- 
 ing Bonaparte between M. Brunetiere and Gohier — The Bunch of 
 Keys and Moreau's Sword. 
 
 On the morning of the Sth of November Lucien quit- 
 ted the house in which he resided in the Rue 
 Verte and established his headquarters at M. Mer- 
 cier's, the President of the Council of Ancients, who then 
 occupied a house beside the Hotel de Breteuil, near the 
 Manege, and who was entirely devoted to him. It was 
 then half-past seven o'clock, and as the decree of removal 
 had not yet appeared, Bonaparte sent almost every in- 
 stant to know if the affair was proceeding. My brother- 
 in-law went to him repeatedly to exhort him to patience. 
 
 On the first visit the General's servant mistook his 
 name though he knew both him and my brother well, 
 and announced him as the citizen Permon. The General 
 started at the name, for, in truth, he did not expect my 
 brother. M. de Geouffre, however received a welcome, 
 and was presently sent back again to hasten the publica- 
 tion of the decree. My brother-in-law remarked that 
 Bonaparte had a pair of pistols within his reach. Up to 
 that moment he had been quite alone. Soon after my 
 brother-in-law's first visit the Rue Chantereine began to 
 be thronged so thickly with horses and people that scarce- 
 ly anyone could pass along it. 
 
 At length, at half-past eight or a little later, the news 
 that the decree was ready was carried to Bonaparte by 
 my brother-in-law, and the General immediately mounted 
 his horse to proceed to the Tuileries. On alighting 
 there my brother-in-law met General Debelle, with whom 
 he was intimately acquainted. Debelle was dressed in
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 221 
 
 plain clothes, for he had run out on the first intelligence 
 of the movement. 
 
 "How comes it," said M. de Geouffre, "that you are 
 not in uniform ? a "Why/ he replied, "I hardly knew 
 what was going - on ; but the thing is soon rectified, w and 
 going up to a gunner who was standing by, " Let me 
 have your coat, my brave fellow, said he, at the same 
 time taking off his own. The gunner gave him his coat, 
 and in this costume he attended General Bonaparte to 
 the council chamber. 
 
 The Revolution of the 8th was completed, and Paris 
 was no longer agitated. We went to see Madame Laetitia 
 Bonaparte, who lived with Joseph. She appeared calm, 
 though far from being easy, for her extreme paleness 
 and convulsive movements whenever an unexpected noise 
 met her ear gave her features a ghastly air. In these 
 moments she appeared to me truly like the mother of 
 the Gracchi. And her situation added force to the idea; 
 she had perhaps more at stake than the famous Roman 
 matron. She had three sons under the stroke of fate, 
 one of whom would probably receive the blow even if 
 the others escaped. This she strongly felt. 
 
 My mother and myself remained with her a part of 
 that anxious day, and only quitted her on the restoration 
 of her confidence by Lucien's different messages, who 
 frequently sent Mariani, his valet de chambre, to calm 
 her disquiet as well as that of his wife. Leaving, then, 
 these ladies in comparative ease, we proceeded to Ma- 
 dame Leclerc, who was but little frightened, because, 
 indeed, she never reflected upon anything, but who 
 nevertheless raised the loudest clamor of any. 
 
 Every quarter of an hour she wrote to Moreau. She 
 kept at that period a femvie de chambre, a sort of serva 
 padrona, who wrote to her dictation, and fine writing it 
 was! When I arrived with my mother, she wished me 
 to take the pen and write in her name to General Moreau. 
 It was to ask the news for which she was crying out 
 continually, and two hours later she was informed that 
 Moreau was not at home, and that he probably would 
 not return that night. On our departure she made us 
 promise to revisit her early on the morrow. My mother 
 willingly agreed to do so, because she loved Madame 
 Leclerc dearly; for my part, I was at that time tenderly
 
 222 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUXOT 
 
 attached to Caroline, the 3 r oungest of Bonaparte's sisters, 
 who was about my own age. 
 
 We had scarcely left her when we met my brother-in- 
 law coming to tell us the news. He quitted us to rejoin 
 Lucien, whom he wished not to leave during those per- 
 ilous hours, for even now tranquillity was but apparent, 
 and might be delusive to the Bonaparte family. The 
 danger to which that family was exposed might have 
 been even imminent on the night of the 8th to 9th. 
 
 If the Directory had not been strictly guarded by the 
 troops under Moreau, who had accepted the charge of 
 Gaoler-in-Chief to the captive Directors; if Moreau had 
 not kept them under even closer restraint than he was 
 ordered to do; if he had not acted an ungracious part — 
 in a word, if he had behaved as he ought to have done, 
 then the Directory and the Councils would have been 
 the victors instead of the vanquished on the 9th of 
 November. 
 
 The event would, doubtless, have been unfortunate, 
 but then, their cause was that of the Constitution; and 
 if they had triumphed, Bonaparte's brothers would have 
 followed him to the scaffold, and their friends and parti- 
 sans would all have had a prospect of Cayenne, to say 
 the least. 
 
 I do not recollect the exact period of Moreau's mar- 
 riage ; but I believe it took place a little after the epoch 
 of the 8th of November. Bonaparte wished him to 
 espouse his sister. Perhaps it was fortunate for both, 
 for all three, that this union did not take place. Indeed, 
 it is difficult to say whether Moreau would have been 
 more trustworthy as a brother-in-law than he was as a 
 brother-in-arms. Bonaparte had acquired an ascendency 
 over him. The day after he met him with Gohier he 
 went and presented him with a scimitar of surprising 
 beauty and enriched with precious stones — the gift of 
 Mourad Bey. Thus, at the epoch of the 8th of Novem- 
 ber, Moreau was entirely the slave of that charm which 
 Bonaparte knew so well how to cast over those he wished 
 to conquer. 
 
 But let us return to the memorable day. The con- 
 duct of Moreau on that occasion was a long time a 
 mystery to me. I could not at first incline to my 
 brother's opinion, who constantly maintained that it was
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 223 
 
 Moreati's extreme weakness of disposition which had thus 
 placed him at Bonaparte's disposal; but I afterward was 
 confirmed in that opinion by what I heard from Bona- 
 parte's own mouth. 
 
 I was one day at Malmaison, in Josephine's bedcham- 
 ber; Bonaparte came in for a moment; she handed him 
 a small note; I believe it was from Madame Hulot, 
 Moreau's mother-in-law, for he was then married. Bona- 
 parte read the note, and, shrugging his shoulders, said, 
 (< Always the same ! Ever at the mercy of those who 
 choose to lead him! now he is the slave of a wicked old 
 woman. It is fortunate that his pipe cannot speak, or 
 that would direct him too ! B 
 
 Josephine wished to make some reply. (< Come, * said 
 he, (< you must not defend him. You do not understand 
 this matter." Here he embraced her. (( If indeed it had 
 been his lot to be led by such a gentle wife as you! 
 But his dragon of a mother-in-law and his shrew of a 
 wife are very she-devils. I will not have any such 
 about me." 
 
 Why he made use of this last phrase I know no more 
 than others: I made no inquiry, because I naturally 
 thought that it referred to something in the note. The 
 above, however, are the words he used, and they made 
 the greater impression on me because I myself was but 
 just married. 
 
 M. Brunetiere was the intimate friend of Gohier, and 
 as soon as he learned what had happened, he proceeded 
 to the Luxembourg, where Gohier lived on a second 
 floor in the Rue du Theatre Franc,ais. When he reached 
 the first sentinels, he fancied himself upon a field of 
 battle. His natural assurance — and he had his share — 
 rendered him deaf to the repeated exclamations of (< You 
 cannot pass. B Uneasy on account of his friend, he wished 
 to see Moreau; he found that impossible; he retraced his 
 steps to the Luxembourg; his agitation, his eagerness to 
 visit his unfortunate friend, who might need his assist- 
 ance, gave rise to suspicions. 
 
 Moreau had given directions that all persons who pre- 
 sented themselves without a written order signed by him, 
 and who insisted on seeing any of the Directors, should 
 be conducted before the commanding officer; and further, 
 that all who were admitted, either to Moulins or Gohier,
 
 224 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 should be required, on their departure, to swear that 
 they were the bearers neither of a written nor verbal 
 message. Happily, Brunetiere, seeing the turn things 
 had taken, judged that he was more likely to serve his 
 friend at a distance than he would be near his person, 
 and made the best of his way from the Petit Luxembourg. 
 
 Gohier's conduct on the 8th and 9th was perfectly in 
 keeping with his character. He refused to see Moreau 
 when he came to him on the 8th of November. Moulins, 
 too, had already treated Moreau with so marked a dis- 
 dain that those who were witnesses of his reception 
 actually felt for him. The Director-General stared at 
 him for some seconds with the most thrilling contempt, 
 surveying him from head to foot, and pointing to an ante- 
 chamber — (< Remain there, * said he and left him. 
 
 But the 9th was to develop the entire plan of the 
 conspiracy ( for we must make use of that expression ) 
 which was only announced by the events of the 8th. A 
 fact sufficiently singular is the entire ignorance in which 
 all that portion of the Bonaparte family who had no 
 share in the action were placed. Everything had been 
 managed so quietly in Paris; Fouche had so well taken 
 his measures to prevent the escape of any intelligence, 
 that Bonaparte's mother and sister were obliged to obtain 
 information of what was passing in the manner I have 
 described. 
 
 The events of the evening had proceeded so quietly, 
 that the uneasiness of Madame Laetitia Bonaparte was 
 entirely dissipated. It was thought the Councils, after 
 having sanctioned the sending back of three Directors, 
 and voted a dispensation with regard to his age, would 
 proceed to the nomination of Bonaparte, and that every- 
 thing would thus be settled. Albert thought that M. de 
 Talleyrand would be one of the peace-making Directors, 
 and of this I was very glad, because his niece was a 
 friend of mine. 
 
 My mother expressed her astonishment that Madame 
 Laetitia had not been to see her daughter-in-law on such 
 an emergency. <( Signora Panoria," replied Madame 
 Bonaparte, (< it is not to that quarter that I look for com- 
 fort! It is with Julie, with Christine. There, indeed, I 
 find maternal happiness! but for the other — no, no. w As 
 she finished the sentence, she compressed her lips and
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 225 
 
 opened her eyes widely. This was a characteristic 
 indication with her when what she had just spoken 
 strongly interested her. 
 
 That very day I had occasion to remark the maternal 
 tenderness of Madame Laetitia. We had no company to 
 dinner, and she conversed for hours with my mother 
 with greater freedom than she had yet done since her 
 arrival from Corsica. They both began to recall the 
 days of youth. Madame Bonaparte was quite at her ease, 
 because with us she spoke nothing but Italian; indeed, 
 to say the truth, her French was not very intelligible. 
 
 I recollect she this day told us that, being at mass on 
 the day of the fete of Notre Dame of August, she was 
 overtaken with the pains of childbirth, and she had hardly 
 reached home when she was delivered of Napoleon on a 
 wretched rug. During her pregnancy she had experienced 
 many misfortunes, for when the French entered Corsica 
 many of the principal families, and among them that of 
 Bonaparte, were constrained to fly. They assembled at 
 the foot of Monte- Rotondo, the highest mountain in 
 Corsica. In their flight, and during their sojourn among 
 the mountains, they underwent many hardships. <( I know 
 not why, w said she, (< it has been reported that Paoli was 
 Napoleon's godfather. It is not true; Laurent Jiubega* 
 was his godfather. He held him over the baptismal font 
 along with another of our relations, Celtruda Bonaparte. w f 
 
 While this conversation was going on Madame Leclerc 
 was seated on her favorite divan, admiring herself in a 
 glass which was opposite to her, and having at length 
 arranged the folds of her cashmere shawl, she reminded 
 her mother of all the sufferings they had endured during 
 their flight from Ajaccio. 
 
 Madame Mere had often talked over those events, but 
 the recital never interested me so powerfully as on the 
 8th of November, when the space of six years had ren- 
 dered so different the situation of those very children 
 whom she, a lone, feeble woman, had been forced to 
 hurry away beyond the reach of the proscription, carry- 
 ing the youngest in her arms, when overcome by fatigue 
 
 * His nephew was afterward Prefect in Corsica. He was a relation 
 of Napoleon. 
 
 t Daughter of Charles Bonaparte, the Emperor's uncle, and wife of 
 Paravicini, a cousin also of Napoleon. 
 15
 
 226 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUXOT 
 
 they could no longer walk, and ultimately, embarking 
 with them in a frail vessel, landing on a shore which 
 increased their dangers. In recording this period of her 
 life, the looks of Madame Bonaparte were as handsome 
 as her language was eloquent. 
 
 On the evening of the 9th we went to the Theatre 
 Feydeau, which at that period was the most pleasant in 
 Paris. Martin, Madame St. Aubin, Mademoiselle Phyllis, 
 Juliet, and Chenard performed there. I forget what was 
 the first piece represented that evening, but VAuteur dans 
 son mdnage was the afterpiece. The curtain rose, and the 
 latter piece was proceeding very quietly, when all of a 
 sudden the actors stopped, and the Auteur dans son 
 menage himself appeared, and advancing in front of the 
 stage, dressed in a morning gown of white dimity, ex- 
 claimed in a very loud voice : <( Citizens, General Bona- 
 parte has been nearly assassinated at Saint Cloud by 
 traitors to their country." 
 
 On hearing these words Madame Leclerc uttered so 
 piercing a shriek that immediately the attention of all 
 the company was attracted to our box, spite of the agi- 
 tation which the news had universally excited. Madame 
 Leclerc still continued crying, and her mother, who 
 doubtless was as much affected as she could be at the in- 
 telligence, endeavored to quiet her, though she herself 
 could scarcely hold the glass of water the boxkeeper 
 had handed to us, so great was her agitation. 
 
 On Madame Leclerc's recovery we all proceeded to the 
 residence of Lucien, conceiving that there we should hear 
 some certain intelligence. My brother-in-law met us on 
 the stairs, and from him we learned the full particulars 
 of the event. We then returned home, where we found 
 M. Brunetiere; this excellent man was quite downcast. He 
 was much attached to Gohier, whose misfortune afflicted 
 him deeply. 
 
 A few days after the 8th of November, speaking of the 
 events which had preceded and followed that day, Gohier 
 alluded to Bonaparte with extreme bitterness; he even 
 was so ridiculously blinded by passion as to refuse to al- 
 low him transcendent talent. 
 
 w Oh, as to that," observed M. Brunetiere, who was 
 present, "it is too bad." "Not at all," rejoined Gohier; 
 " the fault of one is often the cause of another's success,
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 227 
 
 and if, when General Bonaparte came to Paris after 
 Fructidor, Moulins, Barras, and Ducos had been willing 
 to second me, this fine fellow would have been in their 
 and my situation. Is there any improbability in such a 
 supposition ? }> w But still, w replied Brunetiere, "it seems 
 to me that that would not have been so easy a matter. 
 What pretext would you have advanced ? w (( What pre- 
 text ? We might have advanced twenty, the very least 
 of which would have brought him to a court-martial. 
 First of all, the 18th of Fructidor, instigated by him, 
 executed by his orders. * w But it appears to me," said 
 M. Brunetiere, <( that that event was the saving of the 
 Republic. M <( Yes; a pretty saving, truly! Consummated 
 by mutilating every portion of its administration, by 
 striking at the very heart of the Directory, by strengthen- 
 ing our political clubs! He was the chief conspirator in 
 that affair. » 
 
 In speaking thus Gohier either forgot, or pretended to 
 forget, that Carnot had been sacrificed to an intrigue to 
 which General Bonaparte was a stranger; at least I 
 believe I have a perfect assurance of that fact; and as to 
 the Manege and the club of the Rue du Bac, these are 
 at least questionable points. M. Brunetiere, whose judg- 
 ment and discrimination were correct enough when he 
 was not angry — which, however, was the case ten times 
 out of twelve when he was engaged in a dispute — 
 observed to Gohier that it would have been impossible 
 to cite any man before a court-martial on such trifling 
 charges, especially one so loaded with laurels as was 
 Bonaparte on his return from Egypt. 
 
 (< Hear reason, my dear Gohier, w continued he; <( we 
 are both avocats, and can pretty well say what can and 
 what cannot form the basis of an accusation. * Gohier 
 shrugged his shoulders, and exclaimed : <( But the con- 
 tributions which he levied in Italy! Was he not the 
 exactor ? w (< My dear fellow, B replied Brunetiere, a you 
 are surely joking? Have you brought Massena,* or 
 
 * Massena' s appropriations only increased in later years. From a 
 letter of Napoleon to Joseph, 12th March, 1806, the following lines are 
 taken: 
 
 <( Massena and S have stolen 6,400,000 francs. They shall repay 
 
 to the last farthing. Let Massena be advised to return the 6,000,000 
 francs. To do so quickly is his only salvation. If he does not I shall
 
 22S MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 Brune, or twenty others, who have been far more guilty 
 in that respect than Bonaparte ; have you brought any of 
 these to a court-martial ? Nor, indeed, has Bonaparte 
 enriched himself more than they. The Cisalpine Repub- 
 lic made him, General Bonaparte, a present of some 
 splendid diamonds, which he could accept without any 
 compunction. Come! come! disbursement is not so easy 
 a matter." "Well,® rejoined Gohier, "all I say is, that 
 his resignation should have been accepted when it was 
 offered. Rewbel was the only man who had the heart 
 to say, as he presented him with the pen, ( You desire, 
 General, to retire from service ? The Republic will 
 undoubtedly lose in you a brave and able chief; but she 
 still has children who will not forsake her. ) The result 
 of this bombast was, that Bonaparte did not take the 
 pen, that he withdrew the tender of his resignation, and 
 that he departed for Egypt, carrying with him the flower 
 of our troops, of our savants, and all our navy. 
 
 "We should have smote him,® continued the ex- 
 President of the Directory, still fretful from his mis- 
 fortune' — " we should have smote him, and that without 
 pity ; the Republic would then still have been in existence. 
 Such was my advice, but Sieves, who was his accomplice, 
 had influence enough in our Council, to get Bernadotte's 
 resignation accepted, although in fact he had not tendered 
 it, in order to have him sent out of the way, while he 
 uttered not one word of accepting the resignation of a 
 factious wretch who braved the first power in the Re- 
 public by insolently offering his own. " I repeat, * added 
 he with energy, " that if my advice had been taken 
 everything would have been easily settled.® 
 
 The above conversation, which I have detailed with 
 the utmost exactness, affords some idea of the danger of 
 which Bonaparte was apprised when he insisted on his 
 departure for Egypt. Not only had the East always 
 
 send a Military Commission of Inquiry to Padua, for such robbery is 
 intolerable. To suffer the soldiers to starve and be unpaid, and to 
 pretend that the sums destined for their use were a present to himself 
 
 from the province is too impudent! Let S be watched. The 
 
 details of their plunderings are incredible. The evil is intolerable, and 
 I must apply a remedy. I order Ardent to be arrested. He is an 
 
 agent of S . M 
 
 The conduct of Massena, Soult, or Lannes, was widely different 
 from the personal disinterestedness of men like Mortier or Suchet.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 229 
 
 been the favorite object of his wishes, but, at the very- 
 moment when glory had almost immortalized him in 
 his astonishing successes in Italy, he could not bear the 
 thought of remaining in Europe, where every echo told 
 his splendid achievements. Besides, to a vivid desire of 
 raising the ancient war cry of the Crusaders there was 
 an intention to avoid positive danger. I shall by and by 
 relate some facts which preceded and followed his de- 
 parture from Paris, by which the truth of my assertions 
 may be judged — facts with which I became acquainted 
 after my marriage through the medium of Junot and 
 his friends. 
 
 Some time after the conversation I have detailed 
 above, Gohier met Moreau and M. Garet. The General 
 was embarrassed at the encounter, and was endeavoring 
 to justify his conduct. (< General, said Gohier, addressing 
 him with dignity, <( I am by my profession enabled to 
 read people's consciences; do not force me to say that I 
 read in yours nothing which can excuse you." 
 
 Moreau began to raise his voice, as if he were hurt 
 by the severe expressions of Gohier. w General, * he 
 again said, (< I did not seek you, nor will I question you. 
 I do not wish to continue a conversation which must be 
 as painful to you as it is disagreeable to me. I shall 
 only add, B said he, touching the pommel of Moreau's 
 sword, <( that a bunch of keys would well become this 
 place. " 
 
 Moreau turned as pale as ashes. The blow was struck; 
 he stammered out some words which Gohier, as he left 
 him, affected not to hear. It is pretended that Moreau 
 deplored his error, and thought to make amends by ex- 
 claiming, (< I shall find a way to repair it! }) If he thought 
 to do so by pointing the Russian cannon against the 
 French columns, he has at least proved that he never 
 fairly knew what he was about.* 
 
 * The only excuse that can be pleaded for Moreau in fighting against 
 his own countrymen is that his father was guillotined by them during 
 the excesses of the French Revolution.
 
 230 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 Revolution of the 8th November — Bonaparte Falsely Accused of Fear — 
 Sagacity of General Bonaparte — Colonel Dumoulin and General 
 Brune — Lucien injDanger, and His Deliverance — Hopes Created by 
 the Chief of the Consular Government — Lucien Minister of the Inte- 
 rior — Bonaparte's Friendship for Madame Lucien — Residences of 
 the Members of the Bonaparte Family — Visit to Lucien at Le Plessis 
 Chamant — The Poet d'Offreville — Assassination of the Family of 
 Du Petitval at Vitry — Scene at Malmaison, and Conversation with 
 the First Consul. 
 
 The Revolution of the 8th of November is undoubtedly 
 the most important of the nine which we have ex- 
 perienced in the course of seven years ; * it not only 
 changed the destiny of France, but exercised a powerful 
 influence upon that of Europe and the world. Neverthe- 
 less, none of the events which had preceded it had passed 
 with so much apparent calm. France was so tired of the 
 Directory that anything which should replace it would 
 have been well received, and was happy in obeying an 
 authority that offered some guarantee ; the past answered 
 for the future which General Bonaparte announced. 
 
 He only was seen in this Consular Triumvirate ; Sieyes 
 and Roger-Ducos stood unobserved in the shade; and the 
 } r oung General served as the only point of view to eyes 
 fatigued with weeping, which had so long sought, without 
 being aware of it, a lighthouse that should guide them 
 into port. Thirty days only had elapsed since Bonaparte 
 had landed at Frejus, and already he had overthrown 
 the shameful Government by which France was weighed 
 down, and had given it a new one, of which the wheels 
 commenced their movement from the first day. He had 
 
 ♦First, the 31st of May, the fall of the Girondins. 2. The 5th of 
 April, the fall of the Priestly party. 3. The 27th of July. 4. The 2d 
 of April, the Defeat of Barrere, Collot d'Herbois, and Billaud-Varennes. 
 5. The 20th of May, Execution of Romme, Soubrani, etc., and Defeat of 
 the Jacobins. 6. The 5th of October, the Directorial Government. 7. 
 The 5th of September, the Second Emigration. 8. The 19th of June, 
 Fight of the Directors among themselves; Sieyes and Barras conquer 
 Merlin of Douai, Treilhard, etc. 9. The days cf November, and the 
 Establishment of the Consular Government.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 231 
 
 calmed all inquietudes, dissipated all alarms, and revived 
 all hopes. 
 
 There is one report spread by malevolence, which the 
 friends of Bonaparte have disdained to combat, and which 
 has been finally adopted by credulity and folly — it is 
 the alarm with which Bonaparte is alleged to have been 
 seized on entering the hall of the Five Hundred at Saint 
 Cloud on the 9th of November. This absurd story would 
 fall to the ground of itself if it were not found in some 
 works which appear to offer a guarantee for the faith 
 they demand. 
 
 In one of these works the author goes so far as to 
 assert that it was he who recalled General Bonaparte to 
 himself, by observing to him that he was speaking with- 
 out knowing what he said. I take the liberty of remark- 
 ing to him in my turn that he never dared suffer such 
 words to reach the ears of General Bonaparte. I say 
 this, because to permit such a statement to remain 
 uncontradicted is to give a totally erroneous impression 
 of the character of Bonaparte. 
 
 First, then, it is untrue that he spoke on the 9th of 
 November to the Council of Five Hundred in the form 
 of a discourse. It was on the preceding evening, to 
 the Ancients, that he used these remarkable words : (< Let 
 us not seek in the past examples that may retard our 
 progress. Nothing in history resembles the close of the 
 eighteenth century; nothing in the close of the eighteenth 
 century resembles the present moment! We demand a 
 Republic founded upon true liberty. We will have it — 
 I swear it! * 
 
 This discourse, much longer than the few words I have 
 quoted, bears no resemblance to a crowd of incoherent 
 phrases, as he who recalled General Bonaparte to 
 himself would represent. This oration, pronounced in 
 the Council of Ancients on the 18th Brumaire, preceded 
 the review which took place in the Tuileries, and the 
 remarkable allocution which General Bonaparte addressed 
 to Bottot, the envoy of the Directory. <( What have you 
 done with this France which I left you so glorious ? I 
 left you peace — I return and find war. I left you vic- 
 tories — I find reverses. I left you the millions of Italy 
 — I find despoiling laws and misery throughout! w Truly 
 there was vigor enough in these words to remove all idea
 
 232 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUXOT 
 
 of pusillanimity. Nevertheless, on the 8th of November 
 he was in the midst of Paris. The Revolution was far 
 from being consummated, and he was in real danger. 
 
 With respect to the emotion observed in General Bona- 
 parte in the Hall of the Five Hundred at Saint Cloud, 
 the following is its true explanation. On the General's 
 entering the orangery violent outcries were raised against 
 him: "Down with the Cromwell ! » « No Dictator!" 
 « Outlaw him!» 
 
 General Bonaparte knew very well that the Council of 
 Five Hundred was composed of ultra-republicans, and of 
 enthusiastic partisans of the constitution of the year iii. ; 
 but he had relied too much upon the success of Lucien's 
 exertions, who had labored all night to strengthen his 
 brother's party. 
 
 Surprise at this reception deprived him for a time of the 
 power to reply. His resolution was speedily taken. It 
 was necessary to decide the question instantly, which 
 could not have been done had the Five Hundred entered 
 upon discussion. He might even have been assassinated; 
 and if he had run the risk, it would not have been a 
 display of valor, but of folly. 
 
 With an eagle's glance he saw through the circumstances 
 which surrounded him. This self-consultation lasted per- 
 haps some minutes, and the untalented, judging by them- 
 selves, attributed this silence and inaction to fear. But 
 he was not surrounded by those only who were thus in- 
 capable of appreciating his sentiments. I have also 
 collected the opinions of eyewitnesses, who, capable of 
 judging calmly, and possessing, perhaps, as much merit 
 as he whom they looked on, have read his great mind 
 without doing it injustice. 
 
 It is difficult to believe all the things reported to be 
 said and done in the very short space of time which 
 General Bonaparte passed in the Hall of the Council of 
 the Five Hundred; it was but an apparition. And, with the 
 same frankness with which I have defended him from 
 the imputation of cowardice, I will add that I do not be- 
 lieve that a poniard was raised against him ; it was Lucien 
 who, after his brother's departure, was in real danger. 
 
 I know that much has been said of this attempted 
 assassination; perhaps General Bonaparte believed it him- 
 self ; at least it is true that when he was in the court of
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 233 
 
 the Palace he told it to the soldiers, but, I repeat, I do 
 not believe it. It is not, however, any doubt of the 
 hatred of Pene Arena against Bonaparte which makes 
 me question the fact, but simply the manner in which 
 the events are said to have taken place. One peculiarity 
 is sufficiently remarkable, that this same day Bonaparte, 
 in addressing the troops, never stood still, and that he 
 moved only in a zigzag direction. Why? Was he afraid of a 
 pistol shot from the windows ? This conjecture may be 
 correct. 
 
 My brother-in-law was on the Palace steps when Bona- 
 parte came down. His friendship for Lucien made him 
 extremely anxious for the fate of the young Tribune. 
 He saw his brother making his harangue and his tortu- 
 ous promenade, without taking any step to provide 
 assistance for the President of the Council, who, mean- 
 while, might be murdered in his curule chair. He ap- 
 proached Bonaparte and mentioned Lucien; the General 
 immediately turned toward an officer who was a few 
 paces distant from him. "Colonel Dumoulin, w said he, 
 <( take a battalion of grenadiers and hasten to my broth- 
 er's deliverance. w 
 
 The choice which General Bonaparte made of this of- 
 ficer shows the tact with which he could seize the small- 
 est circumstances that could be turned to his advantage. 
 Colonel Dumoulin was the first aid-de-camp of General 
 Brune, Commander-in-Chief of a triumphant army in Hol- 
 land. Already Moreau had given his public pledge in 
 acting as guard to the Directors. The first aid-de- 
 camp of Brune, commanding the battalion which dis- 
 persed the opposing Council would cause the impression 
 that Brune himself was in concert with Bonaparte. 
 
 This assurance was with many people a more than 
 sufficient counterpoise to the fear which the retirement 
 of Jourdan and Bernadotte, both known as warm Repub- 
 licans, had inspired. I am sure that Bonaparte had at 
 first no fixed idea upon this subject; but, with that lively 
 and rapid conception which embraced all things with a 
 single glance, he no sooner perceived Colonel Dumoulin 
 than his name started from his lips. 
 
 At length we possessed a Government which promised 
 some sort of security for the future. My mother, whose 
 heart always saw the fair side of everything that was
 
 234 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 done by a Bonaparte, at first considered this action of 
 Xapoleon only as that of a young enthusiast desirous of 
 liberating his country from the evils by which it was 
 desolated. 
 
 Never thinking seriously upon politics, she knew the 
 Revolution only by its horrors and its noise. That of 
 the 8th of November, therefore, which was accomplished 
 without firing a gun, she could not understand to be a 
 revolution; though, perhaps, there never had been one 
 more important for us and for Europe. It was the ninth 
 change in seven years, not of the Government, but of 
 the pilot at the helm. Lucien was almost immediately 
 called to the Ministry- of the Interior. He had desired 
 another office: but at this period he encountered in 
 Fouche an enemy who was determined upon his destruc- 
 tion, and who never ceased his intrigues till his object 
 was consummated. 
 
 The confidence which Napoleon, without any attach- 
 ment to him, placed in this man, was always an enigma 
 to me. He had sense and talent, no doubt; but did 
 this advantage neutralize the danger with which he sur- 
 rounded Napoleon ? No. And again, the same no is 
 applicable to another genius far superior to Fouche\ 
 who, sharing with him the confidence of Bonaparte, 
 equally contributed to his destruction.* 
 
 Madame Lucien was not pleased with her husband's 
 change of fortune; all this grand display alarmed her. 
 She was obliged now to give up her time to duties which, 
 with reason, she thought far less important than those 
 she had hitherto fulfilled with so much pleasure. She 
 frequently came in a morning to enumerate her troubles 
 to my mother, and to take her advice upon the new and 
 difficult position in which she was placed. But a circum- 
 stance which she was far from foreseeing gave her com- 
 fort and happiness ; it was the change in her favor which 
 took place in the sentiments of her brother-in-law. The 
 penetration of the First Consul discerned the excellent 
 qualities of Madame Lucien's heart; and he soon attached 
 himself to her with a truly fraternal regard. 
 
 I must not omit to mention a visit which, a short time 
 before these great events, we made to Lucien's villa of 
 Plessis Chamant. All Napoleon's family at that time 
 
 * Talleyrand.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 235 
 
 possessed fine country houses, which they filled with 
 guests. Joseph had Morfontaine; Lucien, Le Plessis 
 Chamant; Madame Leclerc, Montgobert. At Morfon- 
 taine, excursions upon the lakes, public readings, billiards, 
 literature, ghost stories more or less mysterious, a per- 
 fect ease and liberty, gave charms to the passing hour. 
 
 To this must be added that which filled the measure 
 of enjoyment, the most friendly, invariably friendly re- 
 ception, which was accorded by the master and mistress 
 of the mansion. They did not admit everyone, but any 
 person once established as a member of their society was 
 sure of experiencing the most courteous hospitality from 
 Joseph Bonaparte and his lady. 
 
 Madame Lucien was very amiable, but her husband's 
 temper was not always the same. That did not lessen 
 the amusement to be found at Le Plessis; perhaps it in 
 some measure contributed to it. I do not remember in 
 my whole life, even in its most joyous seasons, to have 
 laughed so heartily as during the five or six weeks 
 I spent among a numerous party of guests at that villa. 
 
 M. d'Offreville, from fifty-five to sixty years of age, 
 a man of great talents, and of some pretension to ex- 
 treme foppery, was the butt of our mirth and the grand 
 subject of our entertainment. He was a poet, and highly 
 satisfied with his compositions; which, together with the 
 dignity he derived from having held, before the Revolu- 
 tion, the office of cloak-bearer to Monsieur, was the con- 
 tinual theme of his conversation. (< It is true, * he would 
 sometimes remark, (< I have been peculiarly fortunate in 
 my poems: Voltaire, Racine, even Corneille, have some 
 feeble passages; my poetry has none." Still, notwith- 
 standing this absurdity, and a figure, countenance, and 
 costume by no means calculated to inspire the respect 
 due to his years, he might have passed well enough in 
 a crowd, if he had had more sense than to expose him- 
 self and his follies to the observation and ridicule 
 of a young, gay, and satirical society. 
 
 Le Plessis Chamant is in a dull situation; the envi- 
 rons present nothing picturesque, and no shade is to be 
 had nearer than the forest of Senlis, at some distance 
 even from the gates of the park. What induced Lucien 
 to fix upon this property, when villas of the most in- 
 viting description were to be purchased in abundance,
 
 236 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 within a dozen leagues on all sides of Paris, I never 
 could comprehend. 
 
 The subject of villas and country seats reminds me of 
 a terrible catastrophe, in the sequel of which I had an 
 opportunity of remarking the First Consul's demeanor in 
 an affair of interest. In the night between the 20th and 
 21st of April, of the year iv., the Chateau de Vitry, at that 
 time the property of M. du Petitval, was entered by a 
 troop of assassins, who murdered M.du Petitval, his mother- 
 in-law, his sister-in-law, and three servants; the nurse es- 
 caped with an infant son in her arms, passing through the 
 hall filled with men in the dress of the police, and hav- 
 ing drawn swords in their hands. 
 
 Nothing was stolen; plate, diamonds, watches, and 
 other valuables, all remained in their places; the papers 
 only were missing. The relations of the victims imme- 
 diately made an effort to obtain justice on the perpe- 
 trators of this inhuman crime ; the preliminary steps 
 were taken by the local authorities, the proces-verbeaux 
 were drawn up; but suddenly these symptoms of activ- 
 ity relaxed, and before long the whole transaction re- 
 mained involved in impenetrable mystery. 
 
 Three years after this horrible event, M. Dubois was 
 appointed Prefect of the Police of Paris. Vitry was 
 within his district, and he immediately showed an active 
 interest in the affair. He demanded from the local mag- 
 istrate all the documents in his possession. The judge 
 who had taken the depositions was dead; search was 
 made among the rolls of his office, but in vain ; no trace 
 of the examinations could be found. It was concluded 
 that all the documents must have been removed to the 
 archives of the criminal tribunal ; but the most minute 
 investigation ended onl) r in the conviction that not the 
 smallest particle of evidence relating to this atrocious 
 murder had been preserved. Some significant reflections 
 arose out of the absence of these documents, which cer- 
 tainly had at one time existed! 
 
 The relations of the deceased continued to demand jus- 
 tice. I was one day in the apartment of Madame Bona- 
 parte when the First Consul was present; she was 
 persuading him to admit a person who was in waiting 
 and to whom she had promised the favor of an intro- 
 duction.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 237 
 
 <( I have already said," replied the First Consul, (( that 
 I would not give audience upon this affair; accusations 
 without proof, however strong the presumption may be, 
 have no other effect than to increase scandal. However," 
 he added, after walking to and fro some time without 
 speaking, <( let your protdge come in ; I will retire, and 
 re-enter as if by accident." I made a movement to with- 
 draw, but was desired to remain; and M. de Bois-Pr6au 
 was admitted, coming, as I learned from Madame Bonaparte, 
 to solicit the First Consul's interference to obtain justice 
 against the murderers of his relation, Du Petitval. 
 
 Madame Bonaparte approached him with an expression 
 of lively interest; the First Consul almost immediately 
 returned, and she introduced the stranger, who presented 
 him with an address of several pages in close writing. 
 The First Consul took it, glanced rapidly through it, but 
 evidently gave it much attention. After some time he 
 thus addressed M. de Bois-Preau: 
 
 * This, Monsieur, is a delicate affair ; the horror of it in- 
 creases its difficulty. Your accusations are founded only 
 upon moral proofs; these are not sufficient before a legal 
 tribunal; before the tribunal of opinion the case would 
 be different. The wealth of those you accuse will not 
 clear them before either, but it may be supposed that 
 their position in society has afforded them the means of 
 security. " 
 
 The First Consul, as he spoke, continued, according to 
 custom, to walk about the room with his hands behind 
 his back. What M. de Bois-Pr6au said to him I did not 
 hear, but he replied, (< I know it, I know it ; but the 
 proofs — the proofs are indispensable." 
 
 <( Proof is no doubt necessary," said the petitioner; 
 <( nevertheless, General, I think, and all the friends and 
 relations of the unfortunate victims think also, that if 
 you, as the Chief of the State, would take vengeance into 
 your own hands, it would be secure." 
 
 The First Consul smiled. (< You give me credit," said 
 he, <( for more power than I possess, and for even more 
 than I choose to possess; a power which, if it were ac- 
 corded me, I should certainly not make use of. Justice 
 is open to you, why do you not invoke it ? For myself, 
 I regret that it is not within my province to assist you." 
 
 He then saluted M. de Bois-Preau, who, understanding
 
 ME] ME JTJNOT 
 
 . not be pre I d g 
 of : osul probably remark 
 
 for he said to hirr. he already reached I 
 
 door, "I am truly - try, I repeat to ; -t I car.: 
 
 ... particularly " but here he 
 
 stopped si] j from the mantelpiece the 
 
 memoir M. de Bois-Preau rented held it 
 
 out to its own si 
 
 u I entreat you to keep it. General, * said tl Latter 
 
 - I slightly knit his brows ad still .::- 
 tend - hand, made a movemer.: . :' :~pa- 
 
 tience. Lt is :. t a petition which I . onor 
 
 to commit to you.* cor. sd 14 s-Preat 
 
 but a narrative of this me'. event, tnd only some - 
 
 thing more circumstan:.-'. than that gi r en the jour- 
 
 nals of the time." 
 
 The First Consul hesitated an instan: : then replaced 
 the the mantelpiece, saying, with a gra- 
 
 cio.; tissal, I accept it, the- - a narra- 
 
 tive." 
 
 .:ioner had der,. - : : the First _' 
 took up the document and real it great 
 
 •..r.-.ion. He walked up and down as he read, and words 
 rei 'r..: tervals which -hjwed the profound in- 
 
 lignati a it inspired. [t is h it length 
 
 exclaimed. " ildren will believe that "renchmen 
 
 have been slaughtered by Frenchmen within a league : 
 Paris, and that the .rime has not been instan:'.;- avenged 
 ; the La i. n 
 
 after again perusing the memoir, still walking 
 
 rapidly, he added, a It is incredibl . inert, if 
 
 not guilty. Dubois would not have acted thus. Let at- 
 
 d Cambaceres e informed tha: I wish to speak to 
 
 him . ntinued he, turning to Duroc, and left the room, 
 
 z door with great violence. 
 
 When he was gone Madame Bonaparte told as that the 
 
 7:rs: Consul had long formed an opinion upon this - 
 
 rs were at that time frequent, bat the ar- 
 ^urr.i:ar.:e= of this .r. ; scaliarly strii
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 239 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 The Winter of 1S00 — The Restoration of Order and General Security 
 — Massena and the Siege of Genoa — Passage of Mont Saint Ber- 
 nard — Marmont's Artillery — Moreau's Triumphs on the Rhine — 
 The Campaign of Marengo — Inconceivable Effect Produced at Paris 
 by the News of the Victor}' — Bonfires — Universal Joy — News 
 from the Army — Particulars of the Battle of Marengo — The 
 Death of Desaix — Kellerman's Admirable Charge — Folly of Gen- 
 eral Melas — Habits of Napoleon in Conversing with Strangers — 
 De Bubna — Services of the Keilermans, Father and Son — Land- 
 ing of Junot at Marseilles — Grief of the Aids-de-Camp of De- 
 
 The winter of 1800 was very brilliant in comparison to 
 those which had preceded it. Confidence was re- 
 stored; everyone felt the same sentiments toward 
 General Bonaparte, and at this epoch they were those of 
 attachment. What opportunities has he lost! How much 
 he was beloved at that period! Yes, beloved; and where 
 affection did not exist, admiration and confidence did. 
 The emigrants returned in great numbers, and had every 
 reason to be satisfied with the reception they met with; 
 if they had vexations to endure from Fouch6, on applica- 
 tion to the First Consul they were sure to obtain justice. 
 
 The First Consul knew too well that the brilliant suc- 
 cess of Massena at Zurich, though it had retarded, had 
 by no means overcome the danger with which we were 
 threatened. Austria, irritated by so many reverses when 
 she had reckoned upon victories, had determined upon a 
 final effort for our destruction, and France was again 
 threatened. 
 
 General Massena, after having resisted a combined 
 Russian and Austrian force of threefold his numbers, 
 had retired upon Genoa, where he was soon shut up with 
 15,000 men and a population of 100,000 souls; he gal- 
 lantly sustained a siege of fifty-two days, which should 
 conduce more to his renown than all his victories. 
 
 The brave Suchet, separated from his General in Chief, 
 effected a retreat upon Nice, and, in concert with Soult 
 and Compans, exhibited prodigies of valor and talent. 
 But almost all the passages of Italy were open, and the 
 Austrians, with General Melas at their head, prepared to
 
 240 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUXOT 
 
 make us lament the glory of Zurich; General Otto con- 
 tinued the blockade of Genoa, rejoiced to detain in cap- 
 tivity the conqueror of the Austro- Russian army. 
 
 Napoleon then took one of those resolutions to which 
 genius only is competent. The passage of Saint Bernard 
 was accomplished. Suwaroff had the preceding year de- 
 clined this enterprise. Napoleon saw its almost impossi- 
 bility; but saw it only to conquer. His powerful hand 
 no sooner pointed to its glassy summits than the obsta- 
 cles disappeared. Everything became possible to the ex- 
 ertions of those men whose talents his penetration had 
 discovered. 
 
 General Marmont, commander of the artillery, found 
 means to transport the cannon across the most frightful 
 precipices; he caused the trunks of large trees to be 
 hollowed into the form of troughs, and placing the can- 
 nons and howitzers in them, was thus enabled to have 
 them drawn to the most elevated summit of the pass. 
 The journals have commented largely on this famous 
 passage of Saint Bernard; poetry has celebrated, and the 
 arts have delineated it; but nothing can, at this distance 
 of time, convey an idea of the enthusiasm it communi- 
 cated to the parties interested in the operation: the 
 letters written from Milan, Suza, Verceil, and La Bru- 
 nette, by those who, having traversed the Alps, were 
 reconquering Italy, painted in glowing colors the bril- 
 liance of this undertaking. 
 
 While the French penetrated into Ital)'- by three passes, 
 which the folly of General Melas had left unguarded, 
 General Moreau, who then loved his country, was acquir- 
 ing celebrity on the banks of the Rhine. The passage 
 of this river, the taking of Fribourg and Memmingen, 
 the battles of Eugen, Biberach, and Moeskirch, and a 
 multitude of lesser engagements, in which the Austrians 
 lost more than 25,000 in killed and wounded, without 
 calculating prisoners — all these were the results of a 
 campaign of thirty-three days! Ah! if Moreau had always 
 acted thus, how proud would his country have been of 
 his name.* 
 
 *The Campaign of the Rhine, which began the 26th of April, 1800, 
 is one of the most glorious military movements of Moreau. Between 
 that day and the 29th of May the Austrians were not only driven 
 across the Rhine, but were obliged to retire beyond Augsbourg.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 241 
 
 During the campaign of Marengo Paris became almost 
 a solitude ; from Paris to Turin the road was covered 
 with travelers, who, urged by motives of interest — some 
 personal, some general, went to meet the news they 
 were too impatient to await. But this period of expecta- 
 tion was of short continuance. The First Consul crossed 
 Saint Bernard on the 20th of May. On the 21st of June 
 intelligence of the battle of Marengo reached Paris. The 
 effect of this important victory was to raise the funds 
 from twenty-nine to thirty-five francs; six months pre- 
 vious they had been at only eleven. 
 
 On that day we had breakfasted and dined at Saint 
 Mande. The house being solitary; and no one but our- 
 selves arriving in the village from Paris, when we 
 returned to town in the evening we received the news 
 amid all that delirium of joy which inebriated the 
 people of the Faubourgs, always so vehement in the ex- 
 pression of their sentiments. Two hundred bonfires were 
 blazing at once in the quarter we had to pass through, 
 and the populace dancing around them were crying, 
 « Vive la Re'publique ! Vive la Premier Consul! Vive 
 VArme'e ! w embracing and congratulating each other as 
 upon a personal and family festivity. A circuitous route 
 home gave us an opportunity of enjoying a truly fine 
 spectacle, that of a great people affectionate and grateful. 
 
 (< Have you seen ? M said one to another, <c how he writes 
 to the other consuls? That is our man! ( I hope the 
 people of France will be satisfied with its army ' 8 
 <( Yes, yes,* was exclaimed from all sides. <( The people 
 are satisfied : * and shouts of (< Vive la Re'publique ! Vive 
 Bonaparte ! B were redoubled. My brother and I shared 
 the joyful enthusiasm ; my mother was more calm. (< We 
 shall see hereafter, B said she ; (< Moreau has done great 
 things, of which nothing is said." The coolness which 
 subsisted between my mother and General Bonaparte 
 rendered her unjust to him; Albert and I told her so 
 jestingly. <( It is impossible, B said she; but repeated, 
 «We shall see.» 
 
 Sometime afterward, when the officers of all ranks 
 were returning to Paris, and different accounts of the 
 battle began to circulate, the conduct of General Keller- 
 man excited universal admiration, and the silence of the 
 First Consul about it caused equal astonishment. 
 16
 
 242 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 The action of General Kellerman is one of the finest 
 of our military triumphs. At about five o'clock Desaix 
 fell, struck to the heart by a ball as he led a division of 
 4,000 men against an army of 20,000 infantry and 10,000 
 cavalry, and whose numerical strength was doubled by the 
 pride of victory. The French, rendered desperate by 
 the loss of a general they adored, endeavored in vain to 
 revenge his death; all fell into disorder. The 9th Light 
 Infantry wavered, then gave way, and at length in its 
 precipitate retreat drew the line with it, and all appeared 
 lost. Masked by mulberry trees, from the branches of 
 which the vines they supported hung down in clustering 
 garlands, and which veiled his movements from the enemy, 
 General Kellerman observed the events of the battle, 
 ready to give his assistance wherever it would be most 
 effectual. It was then that, by one of those inspirations 
 upon which the destiny of armies and empires sometimes 
 depends, General Kellerman made, with 500 horse, 
 that magnificent charge which decided the fate of the 
 day. 
 
 Upon the retreat of our troops the Austrian column 
 suffered itself to be hurried on by the ardor of pursuit. 
 It passed General Kellerman with an inconsiderate ra- 
 pidity, and presented a defenseless flank ; by this fault he 
 profited with that promptitude of apprehension which 
 distinguishes the skillful warrior. He fell upon the 
 Austrians like a thunderbolt amidst their victorious dis- 
 order, and, finding them unprotected by their firearms, 
 made in an instant more than 6,000 prisoners, among 
 whom was General Zach, chief of the staff, and the soul 
 of the Austrian army. 
 
 General Melas, who, in perfect security of victory, had 
 already resumed his route to Alexandria, imagined him- 
 self the victim of some terrific sorcery when he found 
 himself surrounded on all sides ; for the French army was 
 to pass the Bormida at the break of day, and he knew 
 that the brave Suchet was on his rear, his advanced 
 guard having already passed the mountains. When, there- 
 fore, on the morning of the 15th, General Gardane pre- 
 sented himself at one of the tctcs-dc-pont of the Bormida, 
 a parley was proposed, and General Melas capitulated. 
 
 The character of this general, at all times either 
 perfectly credulous or wholly incredulous, made a strange
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 243 
 
 exhibition throughout the campaign! Is it not curious 
 to find Melas and his council deciding, on the 13th of 
 June, the very eve of the Battle of Marengo, w that the 
 existence of the Army of Reserve was completely un- 
 known to them ; and that, as the instructions of the 
 Aulic Council mentioned only Mass£na's army, the diffi- 
 cult position in which they were placed was entirely the 
 fault of the Ministry, and not at all to be attributed to 
 the General. w 
 
 The author of the (< Memorial du Ddpot de la Guerre }> is 
 right in the opinion that the Emperor acquired much 
 curious information respecting his campaigns against the 
 Austrians from his conversations with general officers 
 and statesmen, Austrian, Bavarian, and Saxon. I have 
 seen him conversing for two hours together with the 
 most distinguished men in Germany, both in the military 
 and diplomatic professions; and when he had ended and 
 the interlocutor departed, he has exclaimed, rubbing his 
 hands, (C There is information for twenty pages of my 
 commentary. 8 
 
 Once, either at Compiegne or at Fontainebleau, having 
 just closed a long interview with a person to whom he 
 was not sparing of his questions, and who replied to him 
 with such clearness and precision, and at the same time 
 with such rapidity, that the Emperor was surprised, he 
 stopped and fixed his eyes upon him with so striking an 
 expression of countenance that he had no occasion to 
 speak his thoughts. 
 
 The interlocutor was not intimidated, and his physiog- 
 nomy, always calm, but not inanimate, betrayed not the 
 slightest emotion. When he had gone, the Emperor re- 
 marked to Junot, (< That is one of the most subtle men I 
 know, and yet I believe him to be honest. Just now he 
 answered all my questions with such extraordinary frank- 
 ness, that for a moment I believed he was making game 
 of me ; }) and the Emperor's features as he walked about 
 the room wore that musing smile which gave such a 
 charm to his countenance. 
 
 w But no," he continued, <( he is right; the best diplo- 
 macy is to go straight to the object. And then he is a 
 brave man. Be particular in ) T our attentions to him in 
 your quality of Governor of Paris; do you understand 
 me?" This man was M. de Bubna.
 
 244 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUXOT 
 
 But why was General Kellerman refused in his own 
 country a due share of the glory of the day? Even ad- 
 mitting that the First Consul had ordered this famous 
 charge, he could only have done so vaguely, and the 
 result of its splendid execution, which decided the fate 
 of Italy and France, deserved some better recompense 
 than the cold words of approbation, (< You have made a 
 pretty good charge. B It has been said that the Emperor, 
 in making the father of the General a Marshal, Senator, 
 and Due de Valmy, and in giving great commands to 
 the son, had discharged his debt of gratitude. Now, I 
 think, first, that an affectionate word is of as much value 
 in such cases as a more solid recompense. 
 
 Then, Marshal Kellerman was creditor to the State for 
 the Battle of Valmy, and this debt had nothing in com- 
 mon with that of his son, whose military and political 
 reputation rested on other services besides the Battle of 
 Marengo. I believe, then, that the Emperor would have 
 done him no more than justice by appointing him In- 
 spector or Colonel-General, and by giving him during 
 his father's lifetime the title of Duke of Marengo. He 
 had well named Lannes, Duke of Montebello. Lannes, 
 in gaining that battle, prepared the triumph of Marengo; 
 General Kellerman decided it. 
 
 The day of the Battle of Marengo, Junot, who had 
 been taken prisoner by the English on quitting Egypt, 
 landed at Marseilles, and reached his native land once 
 more, after several months' captivity. A thousand times 
 he has repeated to me how greatly the joy of his return 
 would have been damped had he been conscious that the 
 fields of Italy were again the scenes of contest, and that 
 he could not fight at his General's side. Alas! the same 
 day, and almost at the same hour, while Desaix fell 
 before the murderous cannon of Austria on the field of 
 Marengo, the poniard, which treason had committed to 
 the hand of a fanatic, terminated the existence of Kleber!* 
 The pride of our armies: they both perished on the same 
 day, and nearly at the same hour. 
 
 Frequently during this year of the battle of Marengo, 
 which was also that of my marriage, have I seen a din- 
 ner party prolonged until nine o'clock, because Bessieres, 
 
 * Kleber was assassinated at Cairo by a Turk, sent for that purpose by 
 the Vizier, soon after the defeat of the latter at Heliopolis.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 245 
 
 Lannes, Eugene, Duroc, or Berthier, or some others of 
 his companions in arms, or all together, explained to 
 Junot, who was greedy of the most trifling details, all 
 those of this memorable affair. The table then became 
 the plain of Marengo; a group of decanters at the head 
 stood for the village, the candelabras at the bottom fig- 
 ured as the towns of Tortona and Alexandria, and the 
 pears, the filberts, and bunches of grapes represented, as 
 well as they could, the Austrian and Hungarian regi- 
 ments and our brave troops. 
 
 A woman can have no pretensions to understand the 
 military science; nevertheless, it is a fact, that when in 
 1818 I passed through Alexandria on my road to France 
 I remained a long time at Marengo, examining its envi- 
 rons, and visited every tree. From having so frequently 
 heard all the particulars of this famous battle described, 
 I soon found myself on a spot replete with recollections 
 which every surrounding object seemed to awaken in my 
 mind. I brought away two views of the village of 
 Marengo: one which I took from the plain, and another 
 from a point where the mistress of the little inn had 
 placed me to enable me to introduce into my sketch a tree 
 under which they at first laid the unfortunate Desaix, 
 believing that he still breathed. 
 
 Desaix, it is well known, had several aids-de-camp. 
 Among the number were two who made themselves 
 remarkable by the excess of their grief. One of them, 
 in a voice broken by sobs exclaimed, (< Ah, my General ! 
 why have I survived you, and the army, and France ? 
 What a loss have both suffered ! w And the good young man 
 shed tears of sincerity over the corpse of him whom he 
 regretted as warmly as the young regretted Turenne. 
 
 The other aid-de-camp was also young, and he wept 
 as earnestly, but his grief displayed itself in a different 
 manner. (< Ah, my God! my general is dead! What will 
 become of me ? My God ! what will become of me ? n I 
 have heard the First Consul imitate the accents of these 
 young officers; one of them still wept for his General 
 many years after his death. It was Rapp,* a worthy and 
 honest creature, a good comrade, and in all respects a man 
 much above the degree in which he had fixed himself by 
 the abruptness and apparent roughness of his manners. 
 
 * Afterward General Count Rapp, of Dantzic celebrity.
 
 246 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 Fetes in Paris, and a Ball at Lucien Bonaparte's — The Gallery of the 
 Due de Brissac — Madame Bonaparte and Madame Lucien — First 
 Attempt at Royal Assumptions — Affecting Death of Madame Lucien 
 — Last Visit to her — Sepulchral Monument at Le Plessis Chamant. 
 
 Lucien Bonaparte, who occupied, as Minister of the 
 Interior, the Hotel de Brissac during the winter of 
 1800, gave there some splendid fetes in the fine 
 gallery which the Due de Brissac had added solely for 
 this purpose. My mother occasionally took me to these 
 balls; at one of them I remember Madame Bonaparte* 
 took her seat at the upper end of the gallery, assuming 
 already the attitude of sovereignty. The ladies all rose 
 at her entrance and when she retired. The good and 
 simple Christine followed her with a gentle smile upon 
 her lips, and the remark was frequently made that if the 
 one was the wife of the First Consul, the Chief Magis- 
 trate of the Republic, the other was the wife of his 
 brother; and that Madame Bonaparte might, without 
 derogation of dignity, have accorded the courtesies of 
 society and family intercourse, by giving her arm to 
 Madame Lucien, instead of requiring her to follow or pre- 
 cede her. But Christine was Madame Lucien, a name 
 which awoke no good feeling in the mind of Madame 
 Bonaparte, for between her and Lucien a mortal war 
 subsisted. 
 
 Apparently, however, she was very friendly both with 
 Lucien and his wife, and it was with an exterior of 
 perfect complaisance that she thus obliged them to follow 
 her. But the amusing part of the business was that 
 Lucien was wholly unconscious of these airs of superi- 
 ority. The mild Christine often wept in private over the 
 mortification to which she was thus subjected; but she was 
 careful to avoid irritating her husband, who would with- 
 out a doubt have repaired instantly to the Tuileries, and 
 have there enacted a scena before Madame Bonaparte, 
 
 *Be it understood, once for all, that in future whenever I use the 
 term Madame Bonaparte I speak of the wife of the First Consul. For 
 Madame Bonaparte the mother, I shall always employ the latter title 
 or her Christian name,
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 247 
 
 in which the First Consul would probably have sup- 
 ported him, for he had sincerely attached himself to 
 Madame Lucien since he had learned to appreciate her 
 excellent qualities. 
 
 But a short time afterward we experienced a heavy 
 affliction in the death of Madame Lucien.* I was affected 
 by it as if she had been connected with us by closer ties 
 than those of friendship. There was not, it is true, be- 
 tween us all the points of contact which constitute an 
 intimate connection; but our friendship had strengthened 
 materially since her residence in Paris; our intercourse, 
 if not familiar, was constant; and her matured imagina- 
 tion, the justness of her reasoning, her love for her hus- 
 band, which taught her to make his gratification her chief 
 object, were all circumstances which daily endeared her 
 to us. My mother, who was tenderly attached to her, 
 bitterly lamented her loss. 
 
 We went to see her the day before her death. No 
 visits, it may easily be believed, were permitted ; but our 
 intimacy gave us almost the rights of relationship. We 
 found her in a small room adjoining her bedroom. Her 
 apartment had been changed to admit more air, for she 
 was suffocating; and to facilitate her respiration she was 
 lying on a camp bed with two mattresses. This change 
 afforded her some relief, she told us, adding, with a 
 sweet and melancholy smile, but without any accent of 
 complaint, (( This bed reminds me of my own bed at St. 
 Maximin, — I can neither sleep nor breathe under those 
 thick curtains, and upon those beds of down." 
 
 At each word she looked at my mother with a remark- 
 able expression. Her eyes were animated by fever, her 
 cheeks, one in particular, were highly colored, and varied 
 in tint with every emotion that agitated her, as is 
 always the case with persons suffering under a sudden 
 attack of consumption. <( Christine, w said Madame Leetitia 
 Bonaparte, <( you know you must not talk, the physicians 
 have positively forbidden it; and if you mean to recover 
 you must attend to them." The patient shook her head, 
 with the smile so afflicting to those who know that but 
 few days, perhaps but few hours, only are between that 
 moment and dissolution. 
 
 *She was enceinte, and it was said that her death was occasioned 
 by the want of skill of her medical attendant.
 
 248 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 <( Laurette, w said Madame Lucien, "come near me, for 
 I am sure that a deathbed does not alarm you. 8 She 
 took my hand; she perceived the effect which its burn- 
 ing- pressure made upon me. (( Ah ! w said she, <( I meant 
 your mother; to you I am but a stranger, and I frighten 
 you, do I not ? M I wept, and only replied by embracing 
 her. She pushed me gently away, saying, w No, no; do 
 not embrace me, the air I breathe is poisonous. When 
 I recover, as mamma says a 
 
 We took leave, and this adieu was the last. We saw 
 her no more. She died the following day. As soon as 
 my mother received the intelligence she ordered her 
 horses and hastened to the Hotel of the interior; Lucien 
 was at Neuilly. My mother went there to seek him, 
 but we were not permitted to see him. My brother-in- 
 law came to our carriage to tell us that he was not in 
 a state to speak even to his sisters or his mother. <c I 
 have torn him from that unfortunate house, w said he, 
 (< where everything reminds him of the loss he has just 
 experienced. He was in the most violent despair. w 
 
 Madame Lucien was buried in the park of the mansion 
 at Le Plessis Chamant. Her husband erected there to 
 her memory a monument of white marble, surrounded 
 by an iron palisade. When he went to Le Plessis he 
 took his daughters there, that they might pray with him, 
 young as they were. I have heard these notions ridi- 
 culed; but for my own part, being of opinion that 
 the dead may be long lamented, I can easily believe that 
 Madame Lucien was a character to excite such regret, 
 and that it might be great and enduring. I shall never 
 forget when my mother was on the point of death in 
 1799, Madame Lucien was with Madame Bonaparte the 
 mother, and that they came to seek and comfort the 
 poor young girl whom both believed an orphan!
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 249 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 An Offer of Marriage, and My Mother's Projects — Madame de 
 Caseaux's Interference — Junot's Arrival at Paris — His Interview 
 with the First Consul at Malmaison — Long and Interesting Con- 
 versation of Junot with Bonaparte — The First Consul Threatened 
 with Danger — Othello and Madame Foures — Bonaparte's Senti- 
 ments Toward Kleber, and His Agitation — His Advice to Junot, 
 and the Appointment of Junot to the Command of Paris — Junot 
 Lodges at Meo's — His Predilections for Burgundians — His Hotel 
 in the Rue de Verneuil — Project for His Marriage — Junot's First 
 Visit to My Mother and the Society of the Faubourg St. Germain 
 — Translation of the Body of Turenne to the Invalides. 
 
 My mother was very unwell; the cruel malady under 
 which she at length succumbed had already taken 
 possession of her. She went out but little, re- 
 clined the greater part of the day upon her sofa, and re- 
 ceived in the evening the friends who came to bear her 
 company. One of the most assiduous of these was Ma- 
 dame de Caseaux, who was sincerely attached to her. I 
 was myself intimately connected with this lady's daugh- 
 ter, and few days passed that did not bring us together. 
 
 My mother at that time had a marriage for me in con- 
 templation ; probably it might have conduced to my hap- 
 piness, but Madame de Caseaux thought not, on account 
 of the great difference of age between my mother's in- 
 tended son-in-law and myself. <( Laurette, Laurette, B 
 said she, enforcing her words with her extended finger, 
 <( it is not wise, my child, to marry one's grandfather. w 
 
 My mother did not like contradiction in the most triv- 
 ial matters; and it may be easily conceived that the very 
 reasonable opposition of her devoted friend on an affair 
 of so much importance irritated her extremely. Her dis- 
 pleasure proceeded to the extent of preventing my visits 
 to Madame de Caseaux when she was unable to accom- 
 pany me herself; on this point 1 must say she was un- 
 just to her friend, who would speak her mind to her, or 
 to me before her, on the subject of this marriage, but 
 never permitted herself to mention it, except in her pres- 
 ence, her rigid principles absolutely interdicting such an 
 interference in the relations of mother and child.
 
 250 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 As soon as Andoche Junot arrived in Paris he hastened 
 to pay his respects to his General, who was then at Mal- 
 maison. What events had taken place since their separa- 
 tion! What miracles had not one man accomplished! 
 How many fresh laurels were flourishing- around him! 
 Junot, in approaching him, was oppressed by a thousand 
 sentiments, in which, no doubt, joy preponderated ; but it 
 was chastened by a profound respect, which, " far from 
 diminishing, a he has often said to me <c his affection for 
 Bonaparte, had no other effect than to increase it. w 
 
 "Well, Junot, w said the First Consul to him, as soon as 
 they were alone, <( so you were stupid enough to suffer 
 yourself to be taken by those English. But, according to 
 your letter to me from Marseilles, it would appear that 
 they expected you. And notwithstanding the positive 
 orders I left with him, Kleber would not let you go? 
 It is all very well ; apparently, he was afraid that I 
 should have too many friends about me. What mean- 
 ness ! I knew very well that he did not love me ; but to 
 adopt such paltry means of expressing his enmity! Have 
 you seen his letter to the Directory? n Junot replied 
 that Duroc had given it him to read while at breakfast. 
 <( However, M continued the First Consul, (< his tragical end 
 has cleared all accounts. I have had a great loss in him; 
 but the irreparable loss, my dear friend, was Desaix! 
 Desaix! — this is one of the misfortunes which strikes 
 the country. I shall never console myself for the loss of 
 Desaix! w * 
 
 The First Consul continued his walk some time without 
 speaking; he was visibly affected. But he never suffered 
 a too lively emotion to be long observed; and returning 
 to Junot, he said to him with an enchanting expression 
 of goodness: "Well, and what do you propose to do ? I 
 have always told you that I would give you proofs of 
 my friendship as soon as I was in a condition to do so. 
 What are your views ? Are you inclined for the service ? M 
 and he looked askance at Junot with an air of good- 
 humored malice. " Have you a mind that I should send 
 you to the Army of the Rhine? w 
 
 * I have heard the Emperor, speaking of General Desaix in 1808, 
 say, in the presence of above thirty persons, chiefly strangers, (< Desaix 
 was the most estimable man I have known: if he had not died I should 
 have made him second to myself. w
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTKS 251 
 
 Junot's color heightened to crimson, which always hap- 
 pened when he was strongly affected. <( Do you already 
 wish to relieve yourself of me, my General ! However, 
 if you command it, I will go and let General Moreau 
 know that the officers of the Army of Italy have lost 
 none of their courage in Egypt. 9 <( There now, my 
 youngster, off at a word! said the First Consul. (< No, 
 no, Monsieur Junot, you do not quit me in such a hurry. 
 I have a great regard for General Moreau, but not 
 sufficient to make him a present of my best friends. " 
 And he gave Junot a pull of the ear. 
 
 "Junot," continued he, in a more serious tone, <( I in- 
 tend to appoint you Commandant of Paris. It is a place 
 of confidence, particularly at this moment, and I can- 
 not make a better choice. But n — and he looked nar- 
 rowly round him, as they continued to walk, to observe 
 whether anyone was within hearing* — (< but you must 
 reflect before you accept this post. You must at once 
 add ten years to your age ; for if it be necessary that 
 the Commandant of Paris should be attached to my per- 
 son, it is equally so that he should be extremely prud- 
 ent, and that he should pay the utmost attention to 
 whatever concerns my safety. }> (< Ah! my General ! }> 
 exclaimed Junot. 
 
 w Be quiet, B said the First Consul, <c and speak low. 
 Yes you must watch over my safety. I am surrounded 
 with dangers. I should make no effort to avoid them if 
 I were still the General Bonaparte vegetating at Paris 
 before and even after the 4th of October. Then my life 
 was my own — I cared little for it; but now it is mine 
 no longer; my destiny has been exalted, it is connected 
 with that of a great nation, and for this reason my life 
 is menaced. The Powers of Europe, who would divide 
 France, wish me out of their way. w He knit his brow, 
 drew his hand across his forehead as if to banish an 
 importunate idea; then, recovering an air of perfect 
 calmness, he passed his arm under Junot's, and resumed 
 the conversation on State affairs. 
 
 <( I am about to appoint you Commandant of Paris, as I 
 told you; but you must marry. That is not only suit- 
 
 * This conversation took place in the park of Malmaison, and lasted 
 above an hour; it was the second time that Junot had seen the First 
 Consul, and not the first, as I have said above.
 
 252 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 able to the dignity of the situation you will occupy, but 
 I know you, and require it of you for your own inter- 
 est. }) After a long pause, he asked, <( What is become of 
 Othello ? » * <( He is still in Egypt, General, but I in- 
 tend to have him brought over by the first convoy." 
 The First Consul made an inclination of the head in 
 token of assent. (< And the mother ? }> said he to Junot. 
 <( She also remains in Egypt, General ; the Commissary 
 General has taken care of her. 8 (< That is well. w 
 
 And here the First Consul stopped short, then walked 
 on again, assumed an air of embarrassment not usual 
 with him, and at length, standing before a tree, plucking 
 off its leaves, after having cast his eyes round to see if 
 anyone were near: "And Pauline, f what has become of 
 her ? w asked he, with an accent of marked interest. (< I 
 have learned, w he continued, with a bitter smile, "and 
 that from the English journals, that Kleber treated her 
 ill after my departure; my attachment, it would seem, 
 was sufficient title to proscription from him! Those 
 whom I loved had not the good fortune to please him." 
 Junot .made no answer. He felt, as he has since told 
 me, that he could not accuse Kleber, who had just fallen 
 by so tragical a death, and he was silent. 
 
 (< Did you not hear ? 8 said the First Consul, a little out 
 of humor, and raising his voice. (< Is it true that this 
 man acted brutally, as the English relate, toward a 
 woman so mild and amiable as this poor Bellilote ? * <( I 
 was not with General Kleber when all this took place, 
 General; but I know that in fact she was not well used 
 by him, and that when she had occasion to request her 
 passport it was by the intervention of Desgenettes that 
 she obtained it, without which I believe the General-in- 
 Chief would have detained her a long time waiting for it. }> 
 
 Junot smiled, without, however, any other idea than 
 the detention of Madame Foures; but Napoleon mis- 
 understood the smile, and, seizing Junot's arm, gripped 
 it so violently as to leave the marks of his hand. He 
 became pale, and said with a voice trembling rather with 
 anger than emotion : (< What do you understand ? What 
 do you mean ? Could that man * And he was so 
 
 * A natural child which had been born to Junot in Egypt of a young 
 Abyssinian slave named Araxarane. 
 + Madame Foures.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 253 
 
 violently agitated that his words could not find utterance. 
 It was not love, it was not even remembrance of love, 
 which produced this almost alarming state; the bare 
 suspicion that Kleber might have succeeded him in the 
 affections of Madame Foures set his brain on fire. 
 
 Junot recalled him to the true state of the question ; 
 he told him that Madame Foures had only encountered 
 difficulties in procuring a passport from General Kleber, 
 which, in fact, was the case with everyone who at that 
 time desired to leave Egypt. But he repeated that she 
 had met with every assistance from the excellent Des- 
 genettes, who obtained all she required, and was toward 
 her, as he is to everyone, and always will be, kind and 
 obliging. 
 
 The First Consul quickly recovered himself, and changed 
 the subject of conversation by recurring to that which 
 was personal to Junot. He spoke at length upon the 
 importance which he wished him to acquire in the situa- 
 tion of Commandant of Paris, and gave him such advice 
 on this subject as a father would give to his son. This 
 remarkable conversation lasted above an hour. 
 
 On his arrival at Paris Junot had not set up any estab- 
 lishment. Uncertain of his next destination, he thought 
 it useless to make arrangements which an order to de- 
 part might compel him to abandon at a moment's notice. 
 He lodged at the house of Me"o, a good restaurateur of 
 that period, and whose hotel had some resemblance to 
 the fine establishment of Meurice; but when the First 
 Consul announced to him the remarkable change which 
 the place he was about to occupy would necessarily make 
 in his situation, he desired him at the same time to find 
 a residence suitable to his new dignity; and Junot re- 
 quested his family, whom he had drawn around him at 
 his Hotel, to look out for one. There were, no doubt, 
 great numbers in Paris in the open and cheerful situa- 
 tions of the Faubourg St. Germain or the Chausse 
 d'Antin, all handsome and newly decorated. 
 
 I know not how they persuaded him to fix upon a 
 Hotel in the Rue de Verneuil, and even in the dullest 
 and dirtiest part of it; but this house was hired, fur- 
 nished, and ready for occupation in less than three weeks. 
 Junot installed himself in it as Commandant of Paris in 
 the course of the summer of 1800. With handsome car-
 
 254 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 riages, the finest horses, and the best wines of Bur- 
 gundy * in his cellars, he then commenced his search 
 for a wife. 
 
 The First Consul had especially recommended him to 
 marry a rich wife. <( Willingly, w replied Junot, "pro- 
 vided she please my taste; but how is that to be done, 
 when almost all heiresses are superlatively ugly ? * 
 
 He was one morning visiting a lady of his acquaint- 
 ance, and who happened to be a friend of ours. He 
 spoke of the order he had received from the First Con- 
 sul to marry, and his own desire to enjoy domestic 
 society. <( Have you been to visit Madame de Permon ? M 
 inquired the person to whom he spoke. <( No; and I re- 
 proach myself daily. But why ask ? M <( Because I 
 believe that her daughter would suit you exactly. w 
 <( Her daughter! w exclaimed Junot: <( she was but a child 
 when I went to Egypt. w 
 
 (C She is young, but no longer a child. She is sixteen. 
 But attend: I have a great inclination to bestow her in 
 marriage at the present moment, but her mother is so 
 bent upon a match she proposes for her, and which has 
 not common sense, for the intended is old enough to be 
 her grandfather, that she turned a deaf ear when I opened 
 my project to her the day before yesterday; though you 
 must understand that the party in question is a charming 
 bachelor, and one of the first names in France. n 
 
 <( And what would you have me do against all these 
 obstacles?" said Junot, laughing. cc You tell me of a 
 woman with twenty admirers; I do not like so many 
 rivals. Mademoiselle Loulou — I believe that is what she 
 was called — must be a little personage of great preten- 
 sions, a spoiled child, and thoroughly insupportable. No, 
 no; I kiss your hands ; w and thus taking leave, he has- 
 tened out of the house. 
 
 From Madame d'Orsay, Junot went to call upon Ma- 
 dame Hamelin, another lady also of our acquaintance — 
 
 *A mania which Junot carried to excess was that of being served 
 only by Burgundians. It was natural that his countrymen should have 
 the preference where there was an equality of talent: but if ever so 
 heavy or stupid, the name of Burgundian was sufficient to ensure it. 
 This was the history of the Hotel in the Ruede Verneuil; a Burgundian 
 found it for him, a Burgundian furnished it, and a Burgundian was put 
 in charge of the establishment.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 255 
 
 an amiable woman who often visited my mother, and 
 was much esteemed by her. Endowed with superior 
 talents, she took pleasure when I was in company with 
 her in bringing" me into notice — an unusual mark of 
 kindness which goes direct to the hearts of women in 
 general, and which mine was not backward in acknowl- 
 edging. 
 
 Junot had scarcely entered when his search for a wife 
 became the topic of conversation. (< Ah," said she, (( there 
 is a young person whom I should like to recommend to 
 you, but she is about to marry and must not be thought 
 of." <( So," said Junot, "because she is going to marry, 
 I am not to hear her name." (< Oh, with all my heart; 
 you knew her when she was but a child. It is Mademoi- 
 selle de Permon. " 
 
 Junot laughed; it seemed as if I haunted him. How- 
 ever, as Madame Hamelin's frankness and her intelli- 
 gence were well known to him, and as she had pronounced 
 my name with interest, he asked her some questions 
 concerning me, which she answered with the feeling of 
 an amiable and sensible woman. 
 
 (< Why have you not paid your respects to her mother 
 since your return ? " she inquired, seeing his eyes fixed 
 upon the garden with an absent air. w I do not know, 
 but it appears that I have done wisely," he replied, smiling; 
 (< for suppose I had fallen in love with your young 
 friend. " (< Well ! you would have married her. Are you 
 not wishing to marry ? " <( But you have told me your- 
 self that Madame de Permon has a strong desire to marry 
 
 her to M. de V , and if she wills it, it will be, for 
 
 she is not one to yield; I have seen instances of that 
 which I shall not forget." 
 
 The same day, Junot, bearing in mind his conversa- 
 tion with Madame Hamelin, found out a person whom 
 he knew to be intimate with my mother and me, and 
 made himself acquainted with all that concerned me, and 
 
 also with my mother's intentions respecting M. de V ; 
 
 they were not doubtful, for she had no stronger desire 
 than to conclude the marriage. Junot took his resolu- 
 tion at once; he had engaged to wait upon my mother 
 with Madame Hamelin the following evening; however, 
 he excused himself upon some pretext, but said nothing 
 of the true cause.
 
 256 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUXOT 
 
 At this time, my mother, much out of health, did not 
 quit her sofa. My brother and I exerted ourselves to 
 the utmost to lessen the ennui of her retirement. All 
 her friends, and a crowd of acquaintances, assisted us in 
 endeavoring- to make her forget that she was condemned 
 to seclusion for the cure of a complaint from which she 
 might never recover. Thanks to the care and advice of 
 Dr. Backer, she was now mending; as she did not suf- 
 fer, we were gay. We had music and singing, and when 
 we were not afraid of too much noise we danced to the 
 sound of our own voices. We laughed and enjoyed our- 
 selves; in short, we were happy. 
 
 Thus the summer of 1S00 passed. The end of Septem- 
 ber arrived. A great change, meanwhile, had taken place 
 in our family. The two marriages which my mother had 
 proposed for me were broken off; one for pecuniary 
 reasons, the other because I had thrown myself at her 
 feet, entreating her, by her love for me, not to make me 
 a sacrifice and my life miserable. 
 
 My mother was perfectly amiable, and she loved me ; 
 she therefore broke off a marriage which in other respects 
 was suitable enough, but to which I had so thorough an 
 antipathy that I should have doomed myself and ray 
 husband to misery by saying Yes. I was delighted with 
 this change in my lot. My friends — whether from at- 
 tachment to me, or whether from that sentiment which 
 makes a young girl always unwilling' that her companion 
 should marry before her — rejoiced in seeing me at liberty 
 for the following winter. 
 
 One evening — it was the 21st of September — about a 
 dozen persons were assembled in my mother's drawing- 
 room, chatting, deciphering charades, and laughing, when 
 suddenly the door opened, and the valet de eliambre an- 
 nounced General Junot. In an instant, as by a stroke of 
 magic, all was silence. This effect was so sudden and so 
 striking that the General was a little embarrassed; but 
 my mother's reception reassured him. She held out her 
 hand to him, reproached him in the most friendly manner 
 for the long delay of his visit, made him sit down by her 
 side, and attended only to him. 
 
 The General could not have chosen a worse day for 
 his visit to my mother; no individual of his acquaintance 
 was present. The whole party belonged to the Faubourg
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 257 
 
 St. Germain, and the sort of welcome a General of the 
 Republic would find among a circle of emigrants re- 
 turned within the last six months may be easily imagined. 
 But my mother could act the mistress of the house to 
 perfection. She saw that General Junot might find him- 
 self in a constrained position, and she exerted herself so 
 effectually that he was very soon as much at his ease by 
 her side as if he had been one of our most intimate 
 associates. 
 
 The distinctive character of Junot's mind was acute- 
 ness and rapidity of penetration. He understood that 
 this was not the place for speaking of the First Consul. 
 He was determined to hear nothing to his prejudice; but 
 neither would my mother, though she was no longer 
 partial to him, have suffered anything to be said against 
 him in her house. 
 
 Junot spoke of Egypt, of what he had seen there which 
 was foreign to our manners, with that ability which all 
 who knew him are so well aware of. Albert, who had 
 been spending the evening at Madame Leclerc's, soon 
 came in, and his presence emboldened Junot to propose 
 to my mother that she should, on the following day, go 
 to the Hotel de Salm to witness the procession which 
 was to pass the Quai de Voltaire. 
 
 The occasion was worth the trouble ; it was the trans- 
 lation of the body of Turenne from the Jardin des 
 Plantcs, where it had been deposited since the violation 
 of the tombs of St. Denis, to the Mustfe des Augustins 
 aux Invalides. As Junot was to superintend the cere- 
 mony in his quality of Commandant of Paris, he was 
 desirous that we should see him in his glory, and I be- 
 lieve this was the true motive of the zeal he manifested 
 in overcoming my mother's objections on the score of 
 her health. 
 
 <( Well, then, " said she at length, <( I will go and see our 
 two heroes pass, the living and the dead; but the living 
 soldier must promise to come and dine with me after he 
 has seen M. le Marechal installed in his new habitation, 
 or I shall not go." Junot promised, and retired, leaving 
 a most advantageous impression on a party which, with 
 the exception of my mother and brother, were certainly 
 by no means predisposed in his favor. 
 
 The following day we repaired to the Hotel de Salm; 
 17
 
 25S MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUXOT 
 
 we were conducted to a drawing-room, in which Junot 
 had placed a large armchair, with pillows and a foot- 
 stool, for my mother; the valet de cliambre of the General 
 said he was ready to execute any orders that might be 
 given to him. 
 
 "Does your master," replied my mother, <( suppose I 
 am one of those invalids to whom he is conveying the 
 body of Turenne? w She was, however, very sensible of 
 the attentions paid to her, and when Junot passed, he 
 saluted us in so marked a manner as to draw the atten- 
 tion of everyone ; a person in the crowd was heard to say, 
 on seeing the General bow to my mother repeatedly: 
 (< No doubt that is the widow of the Marshal Turenne ! 8 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 Junot's Assiduities to my Mother, and his Silence toward me — First 
 Reports of my Marriage with Junot — A Family Council — Visit of 
 Junot — Demand of my Hand — Consent of my Mother and Brother 
 
 — Junot's Declaration, and my Embarrassment — Junot's Thought- 
 lessness and Silence toward Bonaparte — My Mother's Reproaches 
 
 — Junot at the Tuileries — Duroc's Good-nature — Conversation of 
 Bonaparte with Junot relating to his Marriage — Marriage Portion 
 and Presents. 
 
 Ten days had elapsed from the 21st of September, 
 when Junot first presented himself at my mother's, 
 and now regularly every night he repeated his 
 visit. He never spoke to me, but placed himself beside 
 my mother's sofa, chatted with her, or with any of his 
 acquaintance who happened to be present, but never 
 approached the group to which I belonged, and if at this 
 epoch he had ceased to come to our house I might have 
 affirmed that I scarcely knew him. 
 
 But, however undistinguished I had been by any 
 attention on his part, the society in which we moved 
 had already decided that I was his destined bride; the 
 report was brought to me by my friend Laure de Caseaux, 
 and, with great indignation, I repeated it to my mother 
 and brother; they partook of my feelings upon the 
 subject, and having received a summons to attend my
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 259 
 
 drawing-master, I left them in my mother's bedroom 
 still discussing the steps to be pursued, for it was yet 
 but noon, and on account of the weak state of her health 
 she did not rise before that time. 
 
 While we were thus respectively engaged, a carriage 
 drove up to the door, and a waiting maid came in to 
 inquire if General Junot could be admitted. (< Yes, yes, 
 let him come up,® said my mother; "but, good God! 
 what can bring him here at this hour ? * Junot had 
 scarcely entered the chamber before he asked permission 
 to close the door, and, seating himself by the bedside, 
 said • to my mother, as he took her hand, that he was 
 come to present a request, adding, with a smile : (< and it 
 must be granted. (< If it be possible, it is done,* said 
 my mother. 
 
 "That depends upon you and him," replied the Gen- 
 eral, turning to Albert. He stopped a moment, and then 
 continued in the tone of a person recovering from a 
 violent embarrassment : <( I am come to ask the hand of 
 your daughter; will you grant it me? T give you my 
 word,® and he proceeded in a tone of more assurance, 
 <( and it is that of a man of honor, that I will make her 
 happy. I can offer her an establishment worthy of her 
 and of her family. Come, Madame de Permon, answer 
 me, with the frankness with which I put my request, 
 Yes or No. * 
 
 (< My dear General, 8 said my mother, (< I shall answer 
 with all the frankness you have claimed, and which you 
 know to belong to my character ; and I will tell you that 
 a few minutes before your arrival I was saying to Albert 
 that you were the man whom, of all others, I should 
 choose for my son-in-law.® 
 
 <( Indeed ! ® exclaimed Junot joyfully. 
 
 <( Yes ; but that says nothing for your request. First, 
 you must understand that she has no fortune ; her por- 
 tion is too small to be of any value to you. Then, I am 
 very ill, and I am not sure that my daughter will be 
 willing to quit me at present; besides, she is still very 
 young. Reflect well upon all this, and add to it that my 
 daughter has been educated amid a society and in 
 habits which it is very possible may displease you. 
 Reflect for eight or ten days, and then come to me, and 
 we will enter further into your projects.®
 
 2 6o MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 <( I will not wait twenty-four hours, B said Junot firmly. 
 cc Listen, Madame de Permon. I have not taken my 
 present step without having fully made up my mind. 
 Will you grant me your daughter ? Will you, Permon, 
 give me your sister ? I love her, and I again swear to 
 you I will make her as happy as a woman can be." 
 
 Albert approached General Junot, and, taking his hand, 
 said in a voice of emotion, <( My dear Junot, I give you 
 my sister with joy; and, believe me, the day when I 
 shall call you brother will be one of the happiest of my 
 life." <( And I," said my mother, extending her arms to 
 him, <( am happy beyond description in calling you my 
 son. * Junot, much moved, threw himself into her arms. 
 <( Well, " said he, c< and what will you think of me now ? 
 — that I am very childish and weak, I fear;" and, turn- 
 ing to my brother, he embraced him several times in a 
 delirium of joy. <( But now," said he, after a few 
 moments, <( I have still another favor to ask — one upon 
 which I set a high value, for it is most interesting to 
 me. " 
 
 <( What is it ? " asked my mother. <( I desire, extraordi- 
 nary as it may appear to you, to be myself permitted to 
 present my petition to your daughter." My mother ex- 
 claimed against this demand ; such a thing had never been 
 heard of — it was absolute folly. (< That may be, " said 
 Junot, in a firm but respectful tone ; <( but I have deter- 
 mined upon it; and since you have received me, since 
 I am now your son, why would you refuse me this favor ? 
 Besides, it is in your presence and her brother's that I 
 would speak to her. " <( Ah, that makes a difference, " 
 said my mother; <( but why this whim?" (< It is not a 
 whim; it is, on the contrary, so very reasonable an idea 
 that I should never have believed myself capable of it. 
 Do you consent ? " 
 
 My mother answered (< Yes," and a messenger was 
 dispatched to my study, where I was drawing with M. 
 Vigliano, to summon me to my mother, an order which 
 I obeyed immediately with the greatest tranquillity, for 
 I supposed General Junot to be long since gone. 
 
 It is impossible to describe my sensations when, on 
 opening the chamber door, I perceived General Junot 
 seated by my mother's bedside, holding one of her hands, 
 and conversing in an animated manner with her. The
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 261 
 
 General rose, offered me his place, took a seat beside 
 me, then, having looked toward my mother, said to me 
 in the most serious tone: 
 
 <( Mademoiselle, I am happy enough to have obtained 
 the consent of your mother and brother to my solicita- 
 tion for your hand; but I have to assure you that this 
 consent, otherwise so valuable to me, will become void 
 unless at this moment you can declare here in their 
 presence that you willingly acquiesce in it. The step I 
 am at this moment taking is not perhaps altogether con- 
 sistent with established forms — I am aware it is not; 
 but you will pardon me if you reflect that I am a soldier, 
 frank even to roughness, and desirious of ascertaining 
 that in the most important act of my life I am not 
 deceiving myself. Will you, then, condescend to tell me 
 whether you will become my wife, and, above all, whether 
 you can do so without any repugnance ? n 
 
 Since I had been seated in the chair in which General 
 Junot had placed me, I felt as if in an extraordinary 
 dream. I heard distinctly, and understood what was 
 said, but no part of it seemed to affect me; and yet it 
 was necessary to give an immediate answer in one 
 word upon which the fate of my whole life was to de- 
 pend. 
 
 The most perfect silence reigned in the apartment. 
 Neither my mother nor my brother could with propriety 
 interfere, and the General could only wait my answer. 
 However, at the expiration of about ten minutes, seeing 
 that my eyes still continued fixed on the ground, and 
 that I did not reply, General Junot thought himself 
 obliged to construe my silence into a refusal, and, always 
 impetuous, still more so, perhaps, in his feelings than in 
 his will, he insisted upon knowing his fate that very 
 instant. 
 
 <( I see,® said he, with an accent of bitterness, tt that 
 Madame de Permon was right when she told me that her 
 consent was nothing in this affair. Only, Mademoiselle, 
 I entreat you to give me an answer, be it yes or no. 8 
 
 My brother, who saw the change in Junot's manner, 
 inclined toward me and whispered in my ear, (< Take 
 courage, love, speak out; he will not be offended, even 
 if you refuse him." w Come, come, my child! you must 
 answer the General, said my mother. (( If you will not
 
 262 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 speak to him, give me your answer, and I will repeat it 
 to him." 
 
 I was sensible that my situation began to be ridiculous, 
 and that I ought to speak ; but all the power upon earth 
 could not have made me articulate a word nor raise my 
 eyes from the carpet. From my first entrance into the 
 room my emotion had been so violent that the palpita- 
 tion of my heart threatened to burst my corset. The 
 blood now mounted to my head with such violence that 
 I heard nothing but a sharp singing in my ears, and saw 
 nothing but a moving rainbow. I felt a violent pain, 
 and, raising my hand to my forehead, stood up and made 
 my escape so suddenly that my brother had not time to 
 detain me. 
 
 He ran after me, but could nowhere find me. The 
 fact was that, as if started by an invisible power, I had 
 mounted the stairs with such rapidity that in two seconds 
 I had reached the top of the house, and, on recovering 
 my recollection, found myself in the attic. I can e down 
 again, and, going to take refuge in my brother's apart- 
 ments, met him returning from a search for me. 
 
 He scolded me for being so unreasonable. I wept, and 
 reproached him bitterly for the scene which had just 
 taken place. He excused himself, embraced me, and 
 drew me into a conversation which calmed my spirits ; but 
 he could by no means persuade me to return to my 
 mother's room. I was resolute not to appear there again 
 till General Junot was gone. 
 
 My brother on his return addressed the General, 
 whom he found still much agitated. (< I was, * said he, 
 (< my dear General, for a moment of your opinion, and 
 permitted my sister to be brought here; but I now see 
 that we have acted in this matter like children, and she, 
 young as she is, has convinced me of it. " (( Where is 
 my poor Loulou, then, " said my mother ; <( I told you, my 
 dear Junot, that such a step was absurd. Where is she ?" 
 <( In my room," said Albert, "where I have promised her 
 that she shall not be molested. " (< And my answer," 
 said Junot, with a gloomy air. <( Your answer, my friend, 
 is as favorable as you can desire. My sister will be 
 proud to bear your name — I repeat her own words ; as 
 to any other sentiment, you cannot ask it of her without 
 disrespect. * <( I am satisfied! * exclaimed Junot, embracing
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 263 
 
 my brother. (< She will be proud to bear my name, and 
 I am content. w 
 
 The conversation now became more calm, and after a 
 short interval my mother said to Junot: <( But tell me 
 how you have achieved the greatest of your victories; 
 how you have induced the First Consul to give his con- 
 sent to your marriage with my daughter ? * (< He does 
 not know it yet, M replied Junot. <( He does not know it! }> 
 exclaimed my mother ; <( you are come to ask my daughter 
 in marriage, and the First Consul does not know it ? 
 Permit me to observe, my dear General, that your con- 
 duct has been very inconsiderate. • My brother has since 
 told me that he was at the moment of my mother's 
 opinion. (< I request you, madame, to inform me in what 
 respect my conduct can be blamable," Junot replied, with 
 some hauteur. 
 
 <( How can you ask such a question ? Do you not know 
 the coldness, and even disunion, which has succeeded to 
 the friendship that once existed between the First Con- 
 sul and myself ? Do you think that he will consent to 
 my daughter becoming your wife, and especially without 
 fortune ? And what, let me ask, would you do if when 
 you communicate your intended marriage to him, and 
 ask his assent, he should refuse it ? w 
 
 w I should marry without it, n answered Junot very res- 
 olutely. <( I am no longer a child ; and in the most im- 
 portant transaction of my life I shall consult my own 
 convenience only, without listening to the petty passions 
 of others. " "You say that you are no longer a child, 
 and you reason as if you were but six years old. Would 
 you dissolve your connection with your benefactor and 
 friend because it pleases you to make what he will call 
 an imprudent marriage — that is to say, a marriage with- 
 out fortune? For that is the reason he will give you; 
 for you may easily suppose he will not tell you that it is 
 because he does not like me. What will you do, what 
 will you answer, when he gives you the option between 
 my daughter and himself ? w 
 
 (< But he will never do so ! B exclaimed Junot ; (< and if 
 he could to such an extent forget my services and my 
 attachment, I should always remain a faithful son of 
 France; she will not repulse me; and I am a general 
 officer. B (< And do you think us capable of accepting
 
 264 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 such a sacrifice? * said my mother. "And though my 
 daughter is but sixteen years old, can you have formed 
 so unworthy an opinion of her as to suppose she would 
 thus abuse her power over 3 r ou? B 
 
 K My dear General, >} said Albert, who had not yet 
 uttered a word during this discussion, (< I believe that all 
 this will be easily arranged; but permit me to observe, 
 in my turn, that you have been a little too hasty in this 
 affair; nevertheless, I have no doubt that all will be 
 right, for I do not think with my mother that the First 
 Consul will interfere as a party, and still less as a judge, 
 in a question of such a nature as this." 
 
 Junot listened attentively; then, looking at his watch, 
 he suddenly took up his hat, and said to my mother : (< I 
 am going to the Tuileries. The First Consul is not yet 
 in council. I will speak to him, and in an hour I shall 
 return. }) He pressed Albert's hand, kissed my mother's, 
 descended the staircase at two steps, jumped into his 
 carriage, and cried out to the coachman, a To the Tuil- 
 eries at a gallop, only do not overturn us, because I 
 have important business there. s 
 
 <( Where is the First Consul ? B was his salutation to 
 Duroc. <( With Madame Bonaparte. w (< My friend, I 
 must speak to him this very instant. D (( How agitated 
 you are ! * said Duroc, observing his flushed cheek and 
 trembling voice. <( Is there alarming news ? B <( No, no ; 
 but I must see the First Consul; I must this instant; I 
 will tell you by and by why I am so peremptory. * 
 
 Duroc pressed his hand, and as he understood that he 
 could oblige him, he lost no time in acquitting himself 
 of his commission; and in a few moments Junot was 
 introduced to the cabinet of the First Consul. (( My 
 General, w said he, entering at once upon the subject, 
 <( you have testified a desire to see me married ; the thing 
 is settled — I am about to marry. B (( Ah ! ah ! and you 
 have run away with your wife ? Your air is perfectly 
 wild. w (< No, my General, w replied Junot, endeavoring 
 to calm his feelings for the crisis; for all my mother's 
 objections started at once to his mind, and he felt fear- 
 ful of a rebuff. (< Whom are you going to marry, then ? B 
 said the First Consul, seeing that Junot did not speak. 
 (< A person whom you have known from her childhood, 
 whom you used to love, my General, of whom everyone
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 265 
 
 speaks well, and with whom I am distractedly in love — 
 Mademoiselle de Permon. B 
 
 The First Consul, contrary to his custom, was not at 
 that moment walking- while he conversed. He was 
 seated at his desk, which he was notching- with his 
 penknife. On hearing the name, he leaped from his seat, 
 threw away his penknife, and seized Junot by the arm, 
 asking, <( Whom did you say you meant to marry ? * 
 (< The daughter of Madame de Permon, that child whom 
 you have so often held upon your knee when you your- 
 self were young, General. B (( That is not possible ; Loulou 
 is not marriageable ; how old is she ? * (< Sixteen years 
 within a month. M (< It is a very bad marriage you would 
 make; there is no fortune; and, besides, how can you 
 determine to become the son-in-law of Madame de Per- 
 mon ? Do you not know that woman as she is ? 
 
 You must mind what you are about. She is a spirit * 
 
 <( Permit me to observe, General, that I do not propose 
 
 to marry my mother-in-law; and, moreover, I believe n 
 
 Here he stopped short and smiled. <( Well, and what do 
 you believe ? B (< That the discussions which had arisen 
 between yourself and Madame de Permon have blended 
 a shade of prejudice with the judgment you have formed 
 of her. What I know perfectly well is, that she is sur- 
 rounded by numerous friends of long standing, and I 
 have seen the love which her children bear her. Her 
 daughter lavishes such care upon her as only the heart 
 of a devoted child is capable of, and has done so for 
 two years past, to the injury of her own health. Her 
 
 son w <( Ah, that is a brave youth ! B (< Well, my 
 
 General, and do you believe that he could be what he 
 is to his mother if Madame de Permon were not herself 
 not merely a good mother, but an excellent woman ? 
 Children are respectful and attentive to their mother, 
 but to be to her what Mademoiselle Laurette and her 
 brother are to Madame de Permon, she must deserve 
 their respect. Ask Madame Bonaparte, Madame Joseph, 
 Madame Murat; these ladies will tell you how meritori- 
 ous has been the conduct of Madame de Permon's chil- 
 dren from the commencement of her severe illness. B <( Is 
 she so very ill, then ? B inquired the First Consul with 
 interest. (< Very ill ; and the utmost care is necessary to 
 her recovery, and to the relief of her sufferings.*
 
 266 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 The First Consul walked the room without speaking; 
 he was serious, but not out of humor. At length he 
 said, <( But without fortune, I suppose ; what portion has 
 this young person ? M w I have not inquired. B <( You were 
 right in saying just now that you were distractedly in 
 love. What extravagance! Did I not particularly recom- 
 mend you to seek a rich wife ? for you are not rich 
 yourself. B (< I beg your pardon, my General, I am very 
 rich. Are you not my protector, my father ? And when I 
 inform you that I love a young girl who is poor, but 
 without whom I should be miserable, I know that you 
 will come to my assistance, and portion my betrothed. 8 
 
 The First Consul smiled. (< Oh, is that it? But how 
 has this illness happened? Have you long been a visitor 
 at Madame Permon's ? w "Eleven days, General; but it 
 is two months since my attention has been attracted to- 
 ward her daughter. I have been spoken to about her, 
 and one of our mutual friends wished to promote this 
 marriage ; but Mademoiselle Laurette was then destined 
 to another husband, and after all that I had heard of 
 her, I would not visit the mother lest I should fall in 
 love with the daughter. In the interval, the projected 
 marriage was broken off. I went, accordingly, to pay 
 my respects to Madame de Permon, and my resolution 
 was soon taken. But now, sir, I am about to give you 
 still further advantage over me — I have acted more 
 madly than you can imagine. B Here he repeated the 
 scene of the morning in its minutest details. The First 
 Consul listened in silence, with great attention, and 
 when Junot's narrative was ended, he replied: 
 
 (< Though I recognize in all that you have just said 
 the character of Madame de Permon, I cannot but ap- 
 prove her arguments as they respect me, and the sacri- 
 fice you have offered in the true spirit of a Paladin of 
 the Crusades could not be accepted either by her or 
 Permon. You have, however, cut me off from the power 
 of even remonstrating against this rash act by the con- 
 fidence you have just reposed in me; besides, you will 
 not, as you say, marry your mother-in-law, and if the 
 young person be really such as you describe, I see no 
 reason for being severe on the article of fortune. I give 
 you 100,000 francs for your bride's portion, and 40,000 
 her wedding clothes. Adieu, my friend; I wish you
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 267 
 
 happiness ! w So saying, he pressed Junot's hand warmly, 
 and said, laughing as he resumed his seat, <( Oh, you 
 will have a terrible mother-in-law ! w then added with a 
 more serious air : <( But an amiable and worthy brother- 
 in-law. w 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 Junot's Haste to Conclude Our Marriage — Unwillingness to Quit My 
 Mother — A Family Scene — Intrigues to Lead Junot to Another Mar- 
 riage — M. de Caulaincourt's Confidential Advice — My Marriage 
 Fixed for the 30th of October — The Marriage of Murat and Caroline 
 Bonaparte — Her Beauty — An Error Corrected — Causes of Napo- 
 leon's Coolness toward Murat — His Boasting, and an Officer's Break- 
 fast — The Mistress of the Revels and the Betraying Cipher — 
 Bonaparte's Project of Marrying His Sister to Moreau — Calumnies 
 on Caroline Bonaparte — Murat's Person and Dress. 
 
 The preparations for my marriage were proceeding with 
 activity; General Junot was extremely desirous that 
 it should take place immediately. He had induced 
 Madame Bonaparte the mother and Madame Leclerc to 
 persuade my mother, and the 20th of October was the 
 day already fixed upon before I had been consulted upon 
 the subject. It was on the 10th of that month that my 
 mother proposed to me this speedy separation, to which 
 no arguments she could use had any effect in reconciling 
 me. M. de Caulaincourt, an old and faithful friend of 
 the family, was summoned to the conference. Seated 
 between my brother and myself beside my mother's sofa, 
 he earnestly enforced my mother's plea of the impatience 
 of my lover, and, finding this insufficient, began to 
 explain that to his knowledge Junot was at present the 
 object of much intrigue at the Tuileries; that Madame 
 Bonaparte, always apprehensive of the influence which 
 early intimacy and a sentiment of gratitude for early 
 favors might give my mother over the mind of the First 
 Consul, had seen their mutual coldness with great com- 
 placency; had never attempted to widen the breach by 
 irritation, judiciously considering that in such cases total 
 oblivion is the most eligible result, and was now extremely 
 disconcerted to find that Junot's marriage was likely to 
 bring the family again into notice. To obviate this, she
 
 268 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 had attempted to produce a change in his views, and to 
 direct them toward Mademoiselle Leclerc. To this, which 
 was equally new to all his auditors, he added that delays 
 are dangerous, that the First Consul might be induced 
 by the influence of his wife to withdraw his consent, and 
 that Junot himself might be worked to her purpose. My 
 mother's pride now began to take the alarm, and her 
 kind friend was obliged to soothe it to the utmost; and, 
 finally, the result of all this consultation was that I gave 
 my consent to fix the day for the 30th of October; sooner 
 than this I positively refused to quit my mother. 
 
 My own marriage has so much occupied my attention 
 that I have neglected to mention that of Madame Murat, 
 which took place soon after the 8th of November. Caro- 
 line Bonaparte was a very pretty girl, fresh as a rose; 
 not to be compared, for the regular beauty of her features, 
 to Madame Leclerc, though more pleasing perhaps by 
 the expression of her countenance and the brilliance of 
 her complexion, but by no means possessing the perfection 
 of figure which distinguished her elder sister. Her head 
 was disproportionately large, her bust was too short, her 
 shoulders were too round, and her hips too thick; but 
 her feet, her hands, and her arms were models, and her 
 skin resembled white satin seen through pink glass; her 
 teeth were fine, as were those of all the Bonapartes; 
 her hair was light, but by no way remarkable. As a young 
 girl Caroline was charming; when her mother first brought 
 her to Paris in 1798 her beauty was in all its rosy fresh- 
 ness. I have never seen her appear to so much advantage 
 since that time. Magnificence did not become her; bro- 
 cade did not hang well upon her figure, and one feared 
 to see her delicate complexion fade under the weight of 
 diamonds and rubies. 
 
 In the <( Mc 'moires Contcmporaines B it is asserted that 
 when Murat demanded Mademoiselle Bonaparte in mar- 
 riage, the First Consul made great difficulties in giving 
 his consent. This is part of the plan now so generally 
 adopted of representing Napoleon and his family in an 
 unfavorable light. But here, as usual, this disposition to 
 accuse throws a veil over the truth. Bonaparte's repug- 
 nance is said to have been founded on the ignoble birth 
 of Murat. I can affirm with certainty that the author 
 has been misinformed.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 269 
 
 The true cause of Napoleon's little regard for Murat 
 ( for, notwithstanding their alliance, he never was attached 
 to him) was Murat's imprudent conduct when he came 
 to Paris to present the banners taken by the army of 
 Italy, and after his return to headquarters. Those who 
 know the character of Napoleon as I know it will easily 
 understand that Murat would lose much ground in his 
 General's favor by whispering a boast of his credit with 
 the Directory and the War Ministry through the means 
 of Madame Bonaparte and Madame Tallien. I will here 
 give an anecdote which occurred soon after he had re- 
 joined his General, and which reached the ears of the 
 latter on the very day. Junot was at that time wounded 
 and in his bed, and could not have been the informer 
 upon a fact of which he was himself ignorant for some 
 time. 
 
 Murat gave a breakfast to Lavalette, some other officers 
 of the general staff, and many of his friends, chiefly 
 young men belonging to the cavalry, whose company 
 Murat preferred to associating with officers of his own 
 rank; perhaps from that habit of boasting, for which he 
 afterward became so remarkable, and to which he 
 would find his inferiors more complaisant than his equals. 
 
 The breakfast had been very gay. Much champagne 
 had been drank, and there seemed no occasion for a sup- 
 plement, but Murat proposed punch, adding that he would 
 make it himself. 
 
 <( You never drank better, B said he to his companions; 
 (< I have learned to make it from a charming Creole, and 
 if I could add all the circumstances of that education, 
 you would like it still better. w Then ringing for his 
 valet, he ordered not only all that was necessary for 
 ordinary punch, but a number of accessories, such as tea, 
 oranges instead of lemons, etc., and said aloud: <( And be 
 sure not to make a mistake ; bring that Jamaica rum 
 which was given me at Paris. w 
 
 He went to his traveling case and took from it a 
 beautiful utensil of silver gilt, made purposely to extract 
 the juice of lemons or oranges without squeezing them 
 with the hand. He then proceeded in the whole affair 
 in a method which proved that he had been under a 
 good instructor. The punch was found excellent, so 
 excellent that the bowl was emptied and filled again
 
 270 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUXOT 
 
 several times; confidence increased with each renewal; 
 the guests wished to know how such good things were 
 to be learned, and Murat, who perhaps was not quite 
 clear-headed, replied that the finest and prettiest woman 
 in Paris had taught him this and man}- other things. 
 
 Then, as may be supposed, questions multiplied; with 
 the mirth and folly of childhood, they desired to hear the 
 whole history. It appears Murat could not resist, but 
 related much that was unsuitable to the breakfast table 
 of a party of hussar officers. But the most unlucky part 
 of the affair in its consequences was that, without pro- 
 nouncing any name, he indicated so plainly the personages 
 concerned that inductions were speedily drawn and com- 
 mentaries followed. A breakfast, a dinner, and a supper, 
 all in the same day, in the country, that is to say, the 
 Champs Elysees, formed the principal facts of this 
 boastful tale, and the finest woman in Paris (the prettiest 
 was not quite so clear), all this told the name, and these 
 young heads translated it with much more ease than at 
 that moment they could have construed a line of Virgil. 
 
 Further explanation was unnecessary; when one of the 
 party, taking up the lemon squeezer, discovered in his 
 examination of it that it had a cipher upon the handle 
 which was not that of Murat. <( Ah, w exclaimed the 
 young madcap, "now for full information; here we may 
 learn to read as well as to make punch ; B and, brandishing 
 the little utensil which Murat, who retained sense enough 
 to see that this was going too far, wished to snatch 
 from him, he looked again at the handle, and began, 
 (< Ba, be, bi, bo; Bo, — bon, — bona! " Murat at length 
 succeeded in quieting him, and, the breakfast finished, 
 the chief of the guests forgot the particulars of the 
 morning's entertainment. But two or three, who felt 
 that they might speak without indiscretion, since nothing 
 had been confided to them, repeated the whole history 
 of the punch; on a theater so fraught with wonders as 
 Italy was at that moment, the tale made little impression 
 generally, but all the circumstances of the bacchanalian 
 scene reached the ears of the General. His jealous humor 
 was awakened, and for a moment he proposed requiring 
 an explanation from Murat, but reflection showed him 
 how unwise such a proceeding would be, and he 
 abandoned all thoughts of inquiring into the true cir-
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 271 
 
 cumstances of the case; whether they ever came to his 
 knowledge I know not. 
 
 The silver lemon squeezer disappeared. Murat pro- 
 fessed to regret its loss extremely, and reported that 
 some of his giddy companions had thrown it out of the 
 window in sport, and that it had never been recovered. 
 He averred also that the young man who pretended to 
 have read the cipher had his eyes so dazzled by the 
 fumes of the punch that he had, in fact, mistaken M 
 for B, and that the letter J stood for his own name 
 (Joachim). 
 
 This scandal was talked of for twenty-four hours, but 
 offered only vague conjectures to those who were but 
 imperfectly acquainted with the parties concerned, which 
 was the case with almost all the guests except Lavalette 
 and Duroc, who thought it advisable not to take further 
 notice of it, and thought, indeed, that the cipher might 
 have been J. M. For my own part, I believe so too; but 
 General Bonaparte, I have reason to think, was not so 
 credulous ; and the favor shown Murat on occasion of the 
 expedition to Egypt — a favor which certainly his Gen- 
 eral had not solicited for him — seemed to confirm his 
 impolitic boasting, and to indicate that his interest with 
 the Directory was supported by a protector who could 
 not please Napoleon. With respect to the fact itself, I 
 apprehend that there was more of levity in it on Murat's 
 part than of reality. I have known the opinion of mem- 
 bers of the family respecting it, who perhaps saw things 
 in their worst light from being in a degree inimical to 
 Josephine. They excused Murat on account of his youth, 
 but were not so indulgent toward Madame Bonaparte. 
 
 Junot, whom the (< Memoir es Contemporaines, y> I know 
 not why, make to interfere in the affairs of Murat and 
 Napoleon, did not believe that the General had any cause 
 for his jealousy of Murat, for jealous he certainly was: 
 and it is the same with respect to another person of 
 whom I shall have occasion to speak, and toward whom 
 General Bonaparte's ill-will also Look its rise in Italy. 
 
 When, therefore, Murat requested the hand of Caro- 
 line Bonaparte, the First Consul was very much disposed 
 tc refuse it, but not on account of the obscurity of his 
 birth. It is absurd to make him think and act in that 
 manner at this epoch. Murat was in love with Made-
 
 272 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 moiselle Bonaparte ; but in those days of our glory there 
 were twenty young generals round Napoleon who were 
 at least his equals, and whose fame was at that period 
 even greater than his. The First Consul, on his return 
 from Egypt, had a project for marrying his sister to 
 Moreau: this may give the scale of qualification he 
 required in his brother-in-law — much distinction from 
 glor3 T , and none from birth. I know also, for the First 
 Consul has himself told me so, that he once had an idea 
 of giving his sister to Augereau. 
 
 Caroline Bonaparte, also, was passionately in love with 
 Murat. But this love did not take its rise from Joseph's 
 embassy to Rome; Caroline was at that time, at the 
 most, from eleven to twelve years of age. I do not 
 even believe that Murat ever saw her at Rome. If this 
 love really were anterior to his return from Egypt, it 
 must be dated from their meeting at the Serbelloni Pal- 
 ace at Milan. At any rate I can assert that nothing had 
 occurred to render this marriage desirable to the Bona- 
 parte family, as the ^ Memoir es Contemporaines* have 
 said. Caroline Bonaparte married with a reputation as 
 pure and as fresh as her complexion and the roses of 
 her cheeks. I hope I shall not be accused of partiality 
 toward her; but I must be just and speak the truth. I 
 can do so with the more certainty as, at the epoch of 
 her marriage, and during some preceding years, the con- 
 nection between us was very intimate. 
 
 Murat's good looks and the nobleness of his figure is a 
 matter which will bear discussion. I do not admit that 
 a man is handsome because he is large and always 
 dressed for a carnival. Murat's features were not good, 
 and I may even add that, considering him as detached 
 from his curled hair, his plumes, and his embroidery, he 
 was plain. There was something of the negro in his 
 countenance, though his nose was not flat ; but very thick 
 lips, and a nose which, though aquiline, had nothing of 
 nobleness in its form, gave to his physiognomy a mon- 
 grel expression at least. I shall speak again of his per- 
 son and of his talents.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 273 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 
 Satisfaction Caused by My Marriage in the Bonaparte Family — Ma- 
 dame Bonaparte Jealous of My Mother — My Mother's Sufferings, 
 and Preparations for My Marriage — Details Respecting the Family 
 of Junot — His Elder Brother in Egypt — Imperious Will of Bona- 
 parte — His Refusal of a Passport to Junot's Brother — Junot's Brother 
 Taken Prisoner by the English — His Return, and the Melancholy 
 Death of His Son — Remarkable Circumstances Attending the Child's 
 Death — Its Extraordinary Attachment to Its Father — The Event 
 Related to the First Consul — Conversation between Bonaparte and 
 Corvisart upon the Subject. 
 
 Madame Bonaparte the mother was delighted with 
 Junot's choice, and Lucien, Louis, and Joseph Bona- 
 parte, Madame Leclerc, and Madame Bacciochi, 
 rejoiced in the alliance from personal motives; they con- 
 sidered it a sort of victory gained over the younger Ma- 
 dame Bonaparte. The latter, from the reasons of jealousy 
 mentioned before, and which she had sense enough never 
 to avow, though everyone in the palace was satisfied 
 that a tacit hostility existed between my mother and her, 
 had labored zealously to prevent it; and, knowing that 
 my mother was well aware of this, was herself the first 
 person to speak to me of it after my marriage. Her 
 jealousy was, however, unfounded; at this period Napo- 
 leon was much attached to Josephine, and she might, if 
 she pleased, have acquired a great influence over him; 
 this she never possessed, as I shall often have occasion 
 to show. 
 
 The 30th of October approached, and our domicile usu- 
 ally so peaceful though cheerful, and especially regular 
 in the hours and manner of living, was now entirely 
 transformed. My poor mother concealed her sufferings, 
 and told me that she had never been better. She fre- 
 quently went out to make purchases which she would 
 trust to no one else, and which her taste certainly en- 
 abled her to choose better than any other person would 
 have done, but which I should have declined if I had 
 believed them to have caused her the smallest pain. All 
 that I could say on the subject would, however, have 
 been wholly unavailing ; and my brother and I had agreed
 
 274 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 that it was better not to contradict her. All, therefore, 
 proceeded rapidly. The day when I was to quit my 
 mother drew very near, and I may safely say, brilliant 
 as was the situation it promised me, I saw its approach 
 with terror. 
 
 Junot's family, to whom he was religiously attached, 
 consisted of a father and mother, both in perfect health, 
 and without any infirmity, the father at this time about 
 sixty years of age, and the mother something older; an 
 elder brother married, two uncles, and two sisters, both 
 married — the younger to a landed proprietor named 
 Maldan, and the elder, against the wishes of her parents, 
 to a cousin-german ; and, as generally happens with mar- 
 riages not sanctioned by the parental blessing, this 
 turned out ill — they had many children and were un- 
 happy. 
 
 As soon as Junot's marriage was fixed he sent his 
 brother into Burgundy to fetch his father and mother 
 and his wife. M. Junot, the elder brother, was not only 
 a respectful son, an affectionate brother, a tender hus- 
 band, and father, but he was also a man of unimpeach- 
 able honor, and of the severest probity. Bonaparte, who 
 knew his worth, was bent upon taking him on his expe- 
 dition to Egypt; and when Junot obtained leave to visit 
 his family before he set out, he was expressly com- 
 manded to bring his brother back with him. 
 
 Fraternal affection, and the great prospect held out to 
 him, wrung from him an unwilling assent. He took 
 leave of a beloved wife and an idolized infant, his only 
 child, a boy two years and a half old, from whom he 
 had yet scarcely been separated for an hour, and pro- 
 ceeded with his brother to Toulon. Here, however, he 
 completely repented, and, too late, endeavored to obtain 
 his dismissal. Bonaparte had appointed him to a con- 
 fidential situation on his civil staff, and had too much 
 esteem for his probity to permit him to recede. In 
 despair he embarked on board K U Orient* — in despair 
 he reached Egypt; and though he never neglected his 
 duties, he never ceased importunately to demand his 
 dismissal. But the General was not to be moved; and 
 it was not till after the departure of Bonaparte him- 
 self that my homesick brother-in-law obtained leave to 
 return to Europe.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 275 
 
 Further troubles awaited him: the vessel in which he 
 sailed was taken by the English, and he was, after an 
 imprisonment of some months at Mahon, landed at length 
 on the coast of France, with the loss of all the property- 
 he had with him. Rejoicing in the thought of reposing 
 at last under his own roof, he reached it to learn that 
 the son he adored was no more. The affecting manner 
 of his boy's death was not made known to him till his 
 wife had given birth to another child; but he never 
 ceased to feel for this one a sentiment of greater ten- 
 derness than any of his other children inspired. 
 
 The cause of this infant's death, extraordinary as it 
 may seem, was the ardor of his attachment to his father. 
 He bade him adieu, and had seen him depart; but when 
 he found that he did not speedily return, his grief, at 
 first moderate, became ungovernable; for some days he 
 cried without cessation, perpetually inquiring where was 
 his father. At length his useless tears were intermitted, 
 but his sighs, his pallid cheeks, and constant recurrence 
 to the subject uppermost in his thoughts, showed that 
 his grief was not abated. 
 
 His mother, observing with the acutness peculiar to a 
 mother's love that the indefinite idea produced by the 
 uniform answer to his question that his father was gone 
 away only increased his distress, at last replied that he 
 was at Bussy, a small estate the family possessed a few 
 miles from Dijon. (< Then let us goto Bussy, B said the 
 child, with the first expression of joy he had shown since 
 his afflicting loss. The family made a rule of indulging 
 all his wishes, and affording every diversion that could 
 be supposed to alleviate his sorrow, and a journey to 
 Bussy was undertaken ; but the disappointment here ex- 
 perienced added to the malady which had now taken deep 
 hold upon him; in turn, a removal to the houses of all 
 his relations was tried, but in vain; at the end of a 
 twelvemonth this extraordinary infant, who at the time 
 of his father's departure was one of the finest, most 
 healthy, and animated of children, expired with his 
 father's name upon his lips. 
 
 This was related to me a few weeks after my marriage ; 
 and it happened that some anecdotes of extraordinary 
 children formed the subject of conversation at Malmaison 
 one evening about that time, and I related this one, then
 
 276 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 fresh in my mind. The First Consul, who usually did 
 not enter at all into such subjects, paid great attention 
 to what I was saying, and, when I had done, asked me 
 whether I had not abused my privilege of historian, and 
 had not, of a very simple fact, created a romance, the 
 hero of which was a child thirty months old. 
 
 <( I can assure you," I replied, "that far from having 
 added to the affecting parts of my little history, I have 
 curtailed them; and if you heard the same tale related 
 by my worthy mother-in-law, who nursed the poor babe 
 through the whole of its long agony, you would find 
 mine very cold in comparison. B 
 
 The First Consul paced to and fro for some time with- 
 out saying a word. This is known to have been his 
 habit when deep in thought. Suddenly he raised his 
 head, and looking around him, asked for Corvisart, who 
 soon appeared. tt Corvisart, w said the First Consul, "is 
 it possible that a child should die of grief in consequence 
 of no longer seeing some one it loves — its nurse for 
 example ? B 
 
 a I believe not, n said Corvisart. <( At the same time 
 nothing is impossible; but nothing can be more rare 
 than such a case, happily, or else what would become of 
 us ? We could not wean a child. * 
 
 The First Consul looked at me triumphantly, and said, 
 (< I was sure of it." To this I said that I thought Dr. 
 Corvisart had been unfairly interrogated, and that I 
 begged permission to put the question to him in its true 
 shape. I then, in a few words, repeated the history of 
 my little nephew; and scarcely had he heard me out than 
 he exclaimed, (< That is quite another case ; n that a nurse 
 was replaced by a governess, who lavished the same 
 cares upon the child, and gave it food at the hours it 
 had been accustomed to ; but that affection distressed by 
 absence, as that of my nephew had been, might cause 
 death, and that the case was not even of very rare oc- 
 currence. <( I have in my portfolios, B said this very 
 skillful man, <( a multitude of notices relative to the 
 affections of children, and if you should read them, Gen- 
 eral, you would find not only that the germs of the pas- 
 sions exist in their young hearts, but that in some 
 children these passions are developed in an alarming 
 manner. Jealousy, as well as poison, will kill children
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 277 
 
 of three years of age, and even younger. 8 <( You think 
 then, that this little Junot died of grief from ceasing to 
 see his father ? 9 asked the First Consul. 
 
 <( After what Madame Junot has just related, I cannot 
 doubt it; and my conviction is confirmed by her having, 
 without being aware of it, described all the symptoms of 
 that malady of which only beings endowed with the most 
 exquisite sensibility are susceptible. The child is happy 
 in its early death, for he would have been to be pitied 
 throughout his existence, and would have met with a per- 
 petual succession of disappointments. w 
 
 The First Consul rubbed his forehead frequently while 
 Corvisart was speaking. It was evident that his repeated 
 refusals to permit my brother-in-law's return to Europe 
 were agitating his mind, and I am sure that, had the 
 light been directed to his eyes, I should have seen them 
 moist. 
 
 <( Is Junot, your brother-in-law, still in Paris ? B said he. 
 <{ Yes, General. w <( Will you tell him that I wish to see 
 him? Is Junot acquainted with the nature of his nephew's 
 death? ° <( I believe not, General, for my brother-in-law 
 has himself only learned it since his wife's accouchement* 
 
 He again passed his hand over his forehead, and shook 
 his head with the air of a person who would drive away 
 a painful thought; but he never permitted it to be sup- 
 posed that he was long under the influence of any pre- 
 dominating emotion; he walked again the length of the 
 room, and then, placing himself directly in front of 
 Corvisart, said to him with comic abruptness : <( Corvisart, 
 would it be better that there should be doctors, or that 
 there should be none?" The modern Hippocrates replied 
 to the malicious glance which accompanied the question 
 by one of equal meaning, then parried the attack with a 
 jest, and added, (< If you wish me to speak conscientiously, 
 General, I believe that it would be as well if there were 
 not any. B We all laughed, when Corvisart continued, and 
 added: (( But then there must be no old women.*
 
 278 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 Thoughtless Observation of My Mother to Junot Respecting Nobility, 
 and Its Prompt Correction — Intrigues to Break off Junot's Marriage 
 — Great Number of Emigrants in Paris— A Young Girl Seeks 
 Fouche — Affecting Scene, and Fouche' s Sang-froid — Fouche Com- 
 passionate ! — The Marquis des Rosieres and His Daughter — The An- 
 cient Lieutenant of the King, and Escapades of Fouche — The 
 Emigrants Do Justice to the Glory of Our Arms — The Due de 
 Mouchy. M. de Montcalm, the Prince de Chalais, MM. de l'Aigle, 
 and M. Archambaud de Perigord — Rudeness of the Marquis d'Haute- 
 fort — Text of a Curious Letter, Addressed by Berthier to Junot 
 from Madrid during an Embassy — The Passages Omitted — Ber- 
 thier and the Gift of Tongues — Amusing Adventure of Berthier at 
 Milan — The Tailor and the Landlady. 
 
 To many of our friends my engagement was unwel- 
 come, and some of our noble relatives reminded 
 my mother that though my father had been of ple- 
 beian origin she was not, and that she was wanting in 
 respect, to herself in bestowing her daughter upon an up- 
 start General of the Revolution. My mother unadvisedly 
 repeated these observations to General Junot, to whom 
 it may be supposed they were not very acceptable; my 
 mother, observing this, rectified the error with her char- 
 acteristic grace. (< And why," she continued, "should 
 this offend you ? Do you think me capable of being 
 affected by such opinions ? Do you imagine that I regret 
 having given you my child — having named you my son, 
 and the brother of my Albert ? No, my dear Junot M (and 
 she cordially pressed his hand as she said it ) ; (C we are 
 now united for life and death ! • 
 
 Junot has since told me that this explanation given by 
 my mother had produced a very good effect on him. 
 For some days past he had been disturbed by reports 
 that my family were desirous of breaking off the match, 
 and that, another more eligible having offered, my dis- 
 inclination toward him would be made the pretense for dis- 
 missing him. Another marriage was also strongly pressed 
 upon him, but Junot was too much engaged in honor 
 and in heart to recede; and these attempts had no re- 
 sult, unless it were that of impressing me with a slight 
 degree of hostility against a personage who had thus
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 279 
 
 intrigued to exclude me from a society in which I was en- 
 titled, from various reasons, to hold a leading rank. 
 
 The Emigrants were now returning in crowds: La 
 Vendue was settling peaceably; many persons connected 
 with the nobility were repairing to Paris as a more secure 
 asylum than the provinces. Fouche*, the Minister of 
 Police, on whom their fate so much depended, was wicked 
 only in circumstances which had immediate reference to 
 himself; otherwise he was capable of good actions, of 
 which the following is an example: In the month of 
 September, 1800, Fouche" was told that a young woman, 
 indifferently dressed, but very pretty, frequently asked for 
 a private audience with him, but without claiming any 
 acquaintance or making use of any name to obtain the in- 
 troduction, while she persisted in refusing to state her 
 own name or residence. Fouche, who at this time had 
 too many affairs of importance upon his hands to be able 
 to spare any attention to one which offered only an ap- 
 pearance of gallantry, took no notice of this. The young 
 girl, however, continued to besiege his door, notwithstand- 
 ing the insults of the domestics, always so plentifully 
 lavished upon misfortune, till at length the first valet, 
 taking pity upon her, approached and inquired why she 
 did not write to the Citizen Minister. "You might, w 
 said he, <( by that means obtain an audience, which, I 
 believe, is what you want, is it not ? w 
 
 The young woman said it was, but that her name was 
 unknown to the Minister, who would therefore probably 
 refuse her request. The poor child wept as she pro- 
 nounced the last words; the valet looked at her and 
 pondered. Whether his thoughts were what they should 
 be I do not pretend to say, but his resolution was quickly 
 taken. He looked at his watch, and found it was not yet 
 eleven o'clock, and that, consequently, his master would 
 not have finished his breakfast. <( Wait a few minutes," 
 said he to the young girl ; (< but tell me, do you live far 
 off ? » <( Yes ; very, very far. * The valet, who was now 
 examining her faded black dress, said to himself, (< But 
 how the devil am I to take her in, equipped in that 
 fashion ? » His eyes, raised to inspect her bonnet, at that 
 moment fell upon a most lovely countenance, and he added: 
 <( Bah ! I should be very absurd to trouble myself about 
 her dress; wait for me, my child."
 
 28o MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUXOT 
 
 "Citizen Minister," said he, as he entered the private 
 cabinet where his master was breakfasting, and at the 
 same time pursuing his business, <( there is without a 
 young girl, who for this month past has come daily to 
 speak to you; she weeps and pretends that her business 
 concerns life and death ; she seems very much distressed. 
 Shall I bring her in!" <( Hum? }) said Fouche; <( another 
 of the intrigues of those women who solicit the pardon 
 of their brothers and cousins without ever having had 
 either father or mother. How old is this one?" "About 
 eighteen, Citizen Minister." 
 
 <( It is as I guess, then. And thou, honest fellow, hast 
 taken charge of her introduction ? But I am armed at 
 all points. Bring the nymph in, and let her look to it 
 if she have not her patent. " * 
 
 The valet introduced his protdgd. On seeing her, 
 Fouche betrayed, by a movement of surprise, the effect 
 which her really distinguished manner, compared with 
 her wornout apparel, made on him. A sign from the 
 Minister sent away the valet. <( What do you want with 
 me, my. girl ? " he said to his young visitor. She threw 
 herself on her knees before him, and joining her hands, 
 c< I am come," said she, sobbing, <( to beg for the life of 
 my father." Fouche started as if a serpent had crossed 
 his path, in hearing a petition for human life proceed 
 from such lips. <( And who is your father ? " said he ; 
 <( what is his name ? " (< Ah, you will kill him ! " she cried, 
 in a voice trembling with terror, as she perceived Fouche's 
 sallow complexion take a still more vivid tint and his 
 white lips contract; (< you will kill him!" <( Peace, simple- 
 ton! Tell me the name of your father. How came he 
 to be in Paris, if he be in fear for his life ? " 
 
 The young lady then related their history; it was 
 short and affecting. Her father, the Marquis des Ros- 
 ieres, after having been several times made prisoner in 
 La Vendue, was taken at last with arms in his hands, 
 and had escaped by a miracle ; but closely pursued, almost 
 tracked, he had at length arrived at Paris as the safest 
 place of refuge. His daughter was to have rejoined him 
 
 * Fouche, who, as all the world knows, was a moral man, one day 
 had all the female frequenters of the Palais Royal and similar resorts 
 taken up, that he might compel them to take out a patent. He chose 
 to have order even in disorder.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 281 
 
 with her mother, and a young sister about twelve years 
 of age. (< But," continued she, (( I lost my mother and 
 sister, and arrived here alone." "How did both die so 
 suddenly ?" asked Fouche\ (c The Blues killed them, 
 said she in a low voice, casting down her eyes: for she 
 feared Fouche would impute it to her as a crime to de- 
 nounce that of the Republican soldiers. 
 
 <( Where do you lodge ? ® said the Minister after a mo- 
 ment's silence. Mademoislle des Rosieres appeared to 
 hesitate. "Very well," said Fouche, stamping his foot, 
 (< you will not tell me where you live ? If you do not 
 tell me with a good grace, my people will know where 
 to find you two hours hence, or sooner." Incapable of 
 resistance, Mademoiselle des Rosieres again fell upon her 
 knees, extending her hands to him. <( Come, be quiet; 
 let us have no tragedy — I do not like it; only tell me if 
 I may count upon your father. If I obtain his pardon, 
 can I depend upon him ? " 
 
 The expression of Mademoiselle des Rosieres's counte- 
 nance at this moment required no interpreter. (< You 
 are a foolish child," said Fouche, with an accent of dis- 
 satisfaction ; <( when I wished to know if I might depend 
 upon your father, it was in the name of the First Con- 
 sul. Did you suppose I wanted to make him a police 
 spy ? " He wrote the address of Mademoiselle des Ros- 
 ieres on a card, and before she left the room asked her 
 why she applied to him rather than to the First Consul ? 
 u By my father's desire," she answered; (< he thought you 
 would have known his name." The Minister was in- 
 stantly struck with a remembrance which had escaped 
 him ; but he still doubted. <( Tell your father to write 
 me word this very day whether he were not a lieutenant 
 of the King before the Revolution." 
 
 M. des Rosieres's answer was in the affirmative. He 
 had been the King's Lieutenant in Brittany and in Bur- 
 gundy or rather in Franche-Comte, and in this capacity 
 had had the good fortune to be very useful to the young 
 Abbe Fouche. In a question of town walls escaladed, 
 the doors of a seminary forced — in fine, of very grave mat- 
 ters — the Lieutenant of the King, like the good Samaritan, 
 had enveloped the whole in the mantle of charity. 
 
 I know not precisely the extent of the obligation he 
 had conferred, but this I know, that the day succeeding
 
 282 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 his daughter's interview with the Minister, M. des Ros- 
 ieres received a safe conduct, and a short time after- 
 ward a free pardon, with a good place as Commandant 
 of a town in Alsace. There his daughter established 
 herself with him in the winter of 1801. She married 
 there and now inhabits her Chateau of Reisberg, some 
 leagues from Colmar. One remarkable circumstance was 
 that the valet de cliambre was discharged. 
 
 At this epoch the first names of France were happy 
 and proud to march under the shadow of our laurels, 
 though some of them, while triumphing in the glory of 
 their country, were not the less faithful to their original 
 allegiance. France has always been rich in similar ex- 
 amples: I shall only name the Due de Mouchy, M. de 
 Montcalm, the Prince de Chalais, MM. de l'Aigle, M. 
 Archambaud de Perigord, as persons belonging to my 
 mother's society, and because the recollection of asso- 
 ciation with persons upright and constant in their opin- 
 ions is pleasing to the mind. 
 
 Junot, who was not prodigal in his esteem and attach- 
 ment, accorded both to the persons I have named, and 
 when he met them at my mother's house he was not pre- 
 vented by their presence from reading his news; he 
 was sure that the good fortune of France would be wel- 
 come to them. It was not so with the Marquis d'Haute- 
 f ort ; he was by disposition contradictory and quarrelsome ; 
 and though he possessed talents, his constant unreasonable 
 disputations rendered him unendurable as a companion. 
 
 One evening Junot (it was before he had offered me his 
 hand) had been dining with Carnot, then Minister of War, 
 and having learned news which he presumed would be 
 agreeable to us, came to my mother's with proofs of some 
 of the morrow's journal's, and private letters which he had 
 himself received. One of these, from Berthier, whom the 
 First Consul had sent into Spain, contained some very 
 interesting details. Madame Visconti, who had dined with 
 us, had learned this, and w r as very impatient to see the 
 letter. 
 
 Before he read it, Junot was remarking upon the 
 smiling and happy aspect of affairs, while only a few 
 months previous France had been a scene of mourning. 
 He described Italy restored to our authority, Russia de- 
 siring our alliance, England renouncing the title of King
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 283 
 
 of France, to facilitate her negotiations with the Con- 
 sular Government, Austria beaten at all points, and- 
 
 <( Hold there! >} interrupted M. d'Hautefort rudely, a that is 
 no reason for boasting. General Moreau has caused that." 
 
 Junot was so much astonished, not only at the inter- 
 ruption, but at the manner of it, that at first he turned 
 toward M. d'Hautefort, and fixed his eyes upon him with- 
 out speaking, but soon after observed with a marked 
 emphasis: 
 
 <( I thought, till this moment, that General Moreau was 
 a Breton; and I thought, further, that since the mar- 
 riage of Anne of Brittany with two of our kings, Brit- 
 tany was become a province of France; and from this I 
 came to the conclusion that General Moreau was a 
 Frenchman. M 
 
 * Let us leave these captious discussions, my dear 
 friend, }) said Madame Visconti in a coaxing tone, <( for I 
 am longing to hear Berthier's letter. w (< You are right, 
 said Junot, and he read to us the following, which he 
 drew from his pocket: 
 
 (< St Ildefonso, 28 Fructidor, year ix. 
 
 <( You will have learned by the journals, my dear Junot, that I reached 
 Madrid on the evening of the 2d of September. Duroc will also have 
 communicated to you the letter which I wrote to him, and in which 
 I described the fatigue I had undergone from the heat and the dust, 
 particularly in the neighborhood of Madrid. Imagine yourself at 
 Tentoura or at Cesarea — the same misery. In all respects I find great 
 resemblance between the two countries; only that Egypt has the ad- 
 vantage. 
 
 « On arriving at Madrid, I found that the whole town had deferred 
 their bedtime to come and meet me; the street of Alcala was illuminated 
 with torches of wax, which had a very good effect. The crowd was 
 so great that my carriage could not proceed. On reaching the hotel 
 appointed for my residence, I alighted from my carriage to the sound 
 of military music, really very fine. Alquier had ordered me an excel- 
 lent supper, of which I assure you that I did not fail to profit; and I 
 slept as if I were but twenty years old. Tell this to some one of my 
 acquaintance. 
 
 <( I have therefore slept equally well on mattresses of white satin 
 as on an iron bedstead. The morning after my arrival I quitted Ma- 
 drid to join the King and Queen of Spain here. In traversing Madrid 
 I was so warmly applauded, for that is the only suitable word, that 
 the tears started to my eyes; I thought at once of my much-beloved 
 General, to whom this applause was addressed. But all this was 
 nothing compared to the reception I met with from their Catholic Maj- 
 esties. The King embraced me, and the Queen, who is very handsome 
 gave me her hand to kiss, and then embraced me also. But that which
 
 284 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUXOT 
 
 passes all belief is the excessive attachment which their Majesties ex- 
 press for the Republic, and especially for our much-beloved Consul.* 
 His reputation has crossed the Pyrenees, and is come to make friends 
 for him in the heart of Spain. All goes well. I hope to terminate the 
 commission with which I am charged as I have usually done, and merit 
 his approbation. 
 
 <( The Queen of Spain has spoken much to me of a certain person of 
 my acquaintance, whose reputation for beauty, like the renown of the 
 First Consul, has stepped over the boundaries of France. Ah, my dear 
 Junot ! how I long to be again among you all ! I do not like Spain. 
 Trv if the First Consul cannot be induced to replace me by Duroc or 
 Bourrienne. Why I name the latter, I cannot rightly say. Adieu, 
 my dear Junot! You ask me for details; I hope those I have sent you 
 are sufficiently interesting. How I long to be in the midst of you ! I 
 beg you to tell the Signora Pepita ( that is what I shall call her here ) 
 that I have not forgotten her commission — she might be well assured 
 of that. I wrote to her by the last courier I sent ; but I am always 
 happy to repeat that I am her slave, and perhaps she will more 
 readily believe it when the lips of a friend repeat it for me. Read 
 her, then, this part of my letter. Cava, cara Pepita. You see that 
 I improve. 
 
 <( Adieu, my dear Junot ; adieu, my dear friend. Pray tell the 
 First Consul that you know I am ill, and that he should not leave 
 me long here. I know that my mission is but temporary, but I tremble 
 to think of the possibility of remaining here even three months. They 
 write to me from Paris that I am spoken of for the Ministry of War.f I 
 know nothing of it. 
 
 (< Adieu, my friend, 
 
 (< Salutation and friendship, 
 
 « Alexander Berthier.^ 
 
 I ought to mention, before proceeding further, two 
 things of small importance, but which are connected with 
 this letter. The first is, that it was some time after- 
 ward that I became acquainted with the whole of it. 
 General Junot did not think it necessary to read to us 
 Berthier's expressions of love, thrown into the midst of 
 a serious epistle, otherwise filled with matters of impor- 
 tance to the country. There was something absurd in 
 this ambassador of a great nation, forty-five years of age, 
 soliciting a young man of twenty-seven to associate with 
 him in a falsehood to procure his return a few weeks 
 sooner to the side of his mistress; and Junot would not 
 allow M. d'Hautefort the gratification of remarking 
 upon it. 
 
 This is not the only letter which Junot received from Berthier in 
 which his attachment to the First Consul is similarly testified, 
 f He was already nominated to it.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 285 
 
 The second thing was explained with much less diffi- 
 culty. He told us that Berthier had never in his life 
 been able to learn a single word of a foreign language. 
 (< And to such an extent was this eccentricity carried, w 
 said Junot, <( that in Egypt it was not possible to make 
 him say the word ( para. yn He learned it, but as soon 
 as it became necessary to use it in a phrase, it was 
 gone. Being once at Milan, and in immediate want of a 
 tailor, he ordered his servant to fetch him one. The 
 valet, not understanding a single word of Italian, repre- 
 sented to his master that he should lose himself in the 
 town, and that it was necessary to wait for the servant 
 of the house. Berthier was impatient and very peremp- 
 tory, particularly when in immediate want of anything 
 he ordered. (( You are a blockhead, ® said he to the valet ; 
 "order the mistress of the house to come up.® He 
 brought up the landlady, leading her by the sleeve, for 
 she did not, or would not, understand a word of French. 
 
 <( Madame, M said Berthier, stammering, as he always 
 did when he intended to make an impression, which did 
 not help him at all — <( Madame, I wish for a tailor. n 
 The landlady looked at him without answering. <( Ma- 
 dame," said Berthier, raising his voice to its highest 
 pitch, that she might understand him the better, <( I want 
 a tailor! B The woman looked at him in silence, but 
 smiled and shook her head in token of not understanding. 
 
 w Parbleu! * said Berthier; "this is rather too much! 
 what, you do not know what a tailor is ? * Then, taking 
 the skirt of his own coat and that of his servant, he 
 shook first one and then the other, crying still louder 
 and louder, <( A tailor! I say, a tailor! * 
 
 The landlady, who smiled at first, now began to laugh ; 
 and after awhile, beginning to think that her lodger was 
 mad, called out to her servants as loud as she could, 
 saying, tt Ma e matto questo benedetto generate ! per il casso 
 di san Pasquale e matto. B 
 
 Two waiters ran up at the furious noise made by 
 Berthier, their mistress, and the valet; and they only in- 
 creased the confusion. <( I went just at this moment, w 
 continued Junot, who related this story, (< to visit Berthier, 
 and from the foot of the staircase heard a noise sufficient 
 to stun one; I could not understand what should cause 
 such a tumult in his apartment, and I hurried upstairs,
 
 286 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUXOT 
 
 thinking a friendly fist might be useful. I found him 
 with a face as red as fire, and eyes starting from their 
 sockets, marching up and down the room, vehemently 
 exclaiming: w A tailor, a tailor! It is to provoke me 
 that they will not fetch one; they can hear very well." 
 To make himself better understood, he had taken off his 
 coat, and was shaking it like a lunatic. When I went 
 in. he threw it upon the ground, and, advancing to the 
 landlady, took her by the arms and pulled her before 
 him, saying, <( Stand there! old sibyl w ; then, shaking his 
 two hands, which were by no means handsome, he said 
 to her: w What! you do not know what a tailor is ? • then 
 imitating with his short thick fingers the action of a 
 pair of scissors, he cried out in a tone of despair, <( A 
 tailor, I say; tailleur ! tailleur / taillum ! taillarum ! ' w 
 
 The sight of Junot overjoyed him. An explanation 
 ensued, and when Berthier heard the word sartorc, which 
 he ought to have used, <( Pardicn! 9 said he, putting on 
 his coat, and wiping his forehead ; M it was worth while 
 the trouble of making me cry out like that! I asked 
 them for a tailor. Well ! tailleur, sartore; it means the 
 same thing after all; and, besides, I showed them my 
 coat. 9 
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 
 Madame Bernard's Daily Bouquet — Junot Accused of Being a Con- 
 spirator — His Inexplicable Absence — Lucien Bonaparte and the 
 Abbe Rose — A New Opera — Discussions upon It — (< Les Horaces * 
 
 — Mysterious Entreaties of Junot to Dissuade Us from Going to 
 the Opera — Half-Confidence of Junot to My Brother — Evening 
 at the Opera — Enthusiasm Caused by the Presence of Bonaparte 
 
 — The First Consul, My Mother, and the Opera Glass — Lainez, 
 Laforet, and Mademoiselle Maillaret — Junot Frequently Called 
 Away; His Mind Engaged — The Adjutant Laborde — The Gayety 
 of Junot, and the Composure of the First Consul — The Conspiracy 
 of Ceracchi and Arena — Quitting the Opera; the First Consul 
 Saved — The Brothers Arena — Nocturnal Conversation at My 
 Mother's. 
 
 During the month of October Junot looked in upon us 
 ever}" morning, and then came to dinner, having 
 his coach or his cabriolet always filled with draw- 
 ings, songs, and a heap of trifles from the a Magazine of
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 287 
 
 Sikes, w or the "Petit Dunkerque, w for my mother and 
 me; and never forgetting - the bouquet, which, from the 
 day of our engagement to that of our marriage, he never 
 once failed to present me. It was Madame Bernard, the 
 famous bouquetiere to the Opera, who arranged these 
 nosegays with such admirable art; she has had successors, 
 it is true, but the honor of first introducing them is her 
 own. 
 
 One day Junot appeared uneasy, agitated, having been 
 called away from the dining-table. It was then Madame 
 de Contades, seeing him very silent, said jestingly: 
 (< General, you are as serious as a conspirator! w Junot 
 colored. (< Oh ! )} she continued, <( I know that you have 
 nothing to do with conspiracies, or at least that yours would 
 only be directed against us poor emigrants, returned and 
 ruined as we are; and really you would have more than 
 fair play ! w 
 
 <( I believe, * said I, "there is litttle danger in conspir- 
 acies; it is rare that their motives are perfectly pure, and 
 the interest of the country, always the pretense, is gen- 
 erally the last thing intended; and therefore it happens 
 that almost all great conspiracies are discovered before 
 they take effect. The real danger to the chief of a state 
 arises from a fanatic such as Jacques Clement; an insane 
 ascetic, such as Ravaillac or Jean Chatel; or a hand 
 conducted by desperation, like that of Charlotte Corday; 
 those are the blows which cannot be warded off. What 
 barrier can be opposed to them? What guards can pre- 
 vent my reaching the most powerful throne upon earth 
 to hurl its master to the grave, if I am willing to give 
 blood for blood, life for life?" 
 
 Everyone exclaimed against me. <( Come, * said my 
 mother, (< away with these Grecian and Roman notions. * 
 I kissed her hand and smiled; a glance toward General 
 Junot had found his eyes fixed upon me with an expres- 
 sion so singular that an idea crossed my mind that he 
 would not be very solicitous for a union with so resolute 
 a woman, who seemed willing to play with poniards as 
 with her fan. 
 
 The thought seemed even to myself burlesque, because 
 at that period of my life I was one of the greatest cowards 
 of my sex. I was seated at the foot of my mother's 
 sofa, and leaning toward her, whispered to her in Italian
 
 288 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 the thought which had just struck me. My mother 
 laughed as well as myself, and we both looked toward 
 General Junot, supposing that he would understand us, 
 and approach to partake of our gayety. He came indeed, 
 but instead of replying to our jests, he fixed on me an 
 anxious look, and taking my hand and my mother's, 
 pressed them both. 
 
 While leaning over us he said to me : <( Promise me 
 not to speak again upon this subject; say you will not." 
 c< Undoubtedly I will not; but why? » « I will tell you 
 by and by ; at least, I hope so, " he added, with a singular 
 smile. Lucien Bonaparte, who came in at that moment, 
 would know to what our conference related ; for the other 
 interlocutors continued the discussion, and the conspiracies 
 were still as much alive as if we had been in the 
 praetorian camps. "Bah!" said Lucien; "these subjects 
 of conversation are not suited for women, and I wonder 
 that these gentlemen have suffered them to proceed so 
 long. It would be much better to talk of the opera I 
 am to give you the day after to-morrow." 
 
 Albert, M. Hippolyte de Rastignac, and the Abbe" 
 Rose, arrived at this moment from the general rehearsal. 
 One was much pleased with the opera, another did not 
 like it at all. Albert and the Abbe, both good authorities, 
 differed totally in opinion ; music and the opera underwent 
 a long and critical discussion, Lucien and Junot mean- 
 while betaking themselves to private conversation. I re- 
 marked that they never raised their voices, and that the 
 subject which occupied them seemed to be serious and 
 important. 
 
 The expression of their countenances made me uncom- 
 fortable, though I knew of nothing actually alarming. 
 Everything appeared somber and mysterious around us. 
 It was evident that great uneasiness agitated the persons 
 who were attached to the First Consul. I dared not ask 
 a question. Lucien looked upon me as a child; and 
 nothing could ir.duce me to interrogate General Junot. 
 Joseph, who was goodness itself, was the only person to 
 whom I could have summoned courage to speak upon 
 such a subject; but he was about to set out for Luneville, 
 and we scarcely saw him again. 
 
 On the nth of October Junot came early in the morn- 
 ing, which was not usual. He was still more serious
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 289 
 
 than on the day of the conversation about conspiracies. 
 We were to go this evening to the first representation 
 of <( Les Horaces M of Porta and Guillard. Guillard was the 
 intimate friend of Brunetiere, who interested himself 
 much in its success, and he begged as a favor that we 
 would attend it. 
 
 This party was then arranged, and I confess much to 
 my satisfaction. My mother was better, and I looked 
 forward to the evening as a great treat. It was then 
 with no very pleasant emotion that I heard Junot ask 
 my mother not to go to the opera. His reasons for 
 making this request were most singular. The weather 
 was bad, the music was bad, the poem was good for 
 nothing; in short, the best thing we could do was to 
 stay at home. 
 
 My mother, who had prepared her toilet for all the 
 magnificence of a first representation, and who would 
 not have missed it had it been necessary to pass through 
 a tempest, and listen to the dullest of poems, would not 
 attend to any of Junot's objections; and I was delighted, 
 for I placed full confidence in the Abbe* Rose, who said 
 that the music was charming. The General, however, 
 still insisted; so much obstinacy at length made an im- 
 pression upon my mother, who, taking the General's arm, 
 said to him anxiously, <( Junot, why this perseverance? is 
 there any danger ? are you afraid ? * 
 
 <( No, no, w exclaimed Junot. <( I am afraid of nothing 
 but the ennui you will experience, and the effect of the 
 bad weather. Go to the Opera. But, M continued he, 
 (< if you decide upon going, permit me to beg you not to 
 occupy the box you have hired, but to accept mine for 
 the night." 
 
 <( I have already told you, my dear General, that it is 
 impossible. It would be contrary to all established 
 customs, and I am particular in supporting them. Would 
 you have my daughter, your betrothed bride, but not 
 yet your wife, appear in a box which all Paris knows 
 to be yours ? And for what reason am I to give up 
 mine ? 8 <( Because it is at the side, which is a bad 
 situation for the Opera; and it is, besides, so near to the 
 orchestra, that Mademoiselle Laurette's delicate ear will 
 be so offended she will not, for the next fortnight, be 
 able to perform herself. w 
 19
 
 290 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUXOT 
 
 * Come, come," said my mother, "there is no common 
 sense in all this. We will go and hear this second 
 Cimarosa, who, no doubt, will not equal his prototype: 
 but at all times a first representation is a fine thing. Do 
 you dine with us?" "I cannot, " answered the General, 
 " I cannot even come to offer you my arm, but I shall 
 certainly have the honor of seeing you at the Opera. * 
 
 On quitting my mother, the General went up to 
 Albert's apartment, and found him in his study, sur- 
 rounded by those peaceful labors which so usefully filled 
 his time. He earnestly recommended him not to lose 
 sight of my mother and myself throughout the evening. 
 <( I have endeavored," said he, "to persuade your mother 
 not to go out this evening, and especially against going 
 to the Opera, but without any effect. There may be 
 trouble there, though there is no actual danger to fear; 
 but I confess I should be better pleased if persons in 
 whom I am interested were at home. Your prudence, 
 my dear Albert, guarantees your silence; you understand 
 my situation " ; and he left him, promising an explanation 
 of what he had just said the next morning, if not that 
 very night. 
 
 My brother came to my mother, and the thoughtful- 
 ness of his air struck us immediately. " Ah ! " said my 
 mother, " what means all this? Junot would prevent our 
 going to the Opera; and here is another preparing to 
 accompany us there as if he were going to a funeral. 
 It is worth while, certainly, to lay plans for gayety if 
 they are to be executed in such solemnity. * My brother 
 could not help laughing at this petulant sally, and this 
 restored my mother's good humor. We dined earlier than 
 usual, and took our seats at the Opera at eight o'clock. 
 
 The boxes were already filled. The ladies were all 
 elegantly dressed. The First Consul had not yet taken 
 his place. His box was on the first tier to the left, be- 
 tween the columns which separate the center from the 
 side boxes. My mother remarked that the eyes of all 
 persons in the pit, and of nearly all in the boxes, were 
 directed toward it. "And," said Albert, "observe also 
 the expression of interest and impatience on the part of 
 the audience. " 
 
 "Bah!" said my mother; "though I am nearsighted, 
 I can see very well that it is but curiosity. We are
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 291 
 
 always the same people. Lately, at that fete of the Champ- 
 de-Mars, when the Abbe Sieyes * ( she never used any 
 other denomination ) c< wore feathers like the canopy of 
 the Holy Sacrament under which he formerly carried the 
 Host, did not everyone, and myself among the first, 
 strain our necks to obtain a better sight of him? And 
 the chief of the band of sharpers, was not he also the 
 point of attraction for all eyes in the day of his power? 
 Well, this man is now master in his turn, and he is 
 gazed at as the others have been before him. M 
 
 My brother persisted in saying that the First Consul 
 was loved, and that the others had only been feared. I 
 was quite of his opinion, and my mother only replied by 
 shrugging her shoulders. At this moment the door of 
 the First Consul's box opened, and he appeared with 
 Duroc, Colonel Savary, and, I think, Colonel Lemarrois. 
 Scarcely was he perceived, when, from all parts of the 
 theater, arose simultaneously plaudits so unanimous that 
 they appeared to constitute but one and the same sound. 
 
 The stage was thought of no more; all heads were 
 turned toward General Bonaparte, and a stifled hurrah 
 accompanied the clapping of hands and stamping of feet. 
 He saluted the audience with much smiling grace; and 
 it is well known that the least smile enlivened his natu- 
 rally stern countenance, and imparted a striking charm to 
 it. The applause continuing, he inclined his head two 
 or three times without rising, but still smiling. 
 
 My mother observed him through her glass, and did 
 not lose one of his movements. It was the first time 
 she had seen him since the great events of Brumaire, 
 and he so entirely occupied her attention that General 
 Junot came into the box without her perceiving him. 
 " Well, do you find him changed since you saw him 
 last ? )} said he. 
 
 My mother turned hastily round, and was as much 
 embarrassed as a young girl who should be asked why 
 she looked out of the window when the person who most 
 interested her was passing. We all laughed, and she 
 joined us. Meanwhile, the orchestra had recommenced 
 its harmonious clamor, giving the diapason to Laforet 
 and Lainez, who both screamed in emulation who should 
 be best, or rather who should be worst; and Mademoi- 
 selle Maillaret chimed in with lungs worthy of a Roman
 
 2 9 2 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 lady of ancient times, making- us regret that Madame 
 Chevallier no longer occupied the scene. My mother, 
 whose Italian ear could not support such discord, often 
 turned toward General Junot to speak of the enchanting 
 songs of Italy, so soft and so sweet. 
 
 At one of these moments Andoche slightly touched 
 her arm, and made her a sign to look to the First Con- 
 sul's box. General Bonaparte had his glass directed 
 toward us, and as soon as he perceived that my mother 
 saw him, he made two or three inclinations in the form 
 of a salutation : my mother returned the attention by one 
 movement of her head, which was probably not very 
 profound, for the First Consul, as will be shortly seen, 
 complained to my mother herself of her coldness toward 
 him this night. Junot would also have reproached her 
 at the instant had not one of the officers of the garrison 
 of Paris tapped at the door of the box to request him to 
 come out. It was an adjutant named Laborde, the most 
 cunning and crafty of men. His figure and his manner 
 were at this moment indescribable. Albert, who now 
 saw him for the first time, wished for a pencil to make 
 a sketch of him. 
 
 General Junot was absent but a few moments. When 
 he returned to the box, his countenance, which all day 
 had been serious, and even melancholy, had resumed in 
 a moment its gayety and openness, relieved of all the 
 clouds which had veiled it. He leaned toward my 
 mother, and said, very low, not to be heard in the next 
 box: 
 
 "Look at the First Consul; remark him well.* <c Why 
 would you have me fix my eyes on him ? * said my 
 mother; "it would be ridiculous.* "No, no, it is quite 
 natural. Look at him with your glass; then I will ask 
 the same favor from Mademoiselle Laurette. * I took the 
 opera glass from my brother, and looked at him in my 
 turn. " Well,* said the General, "what do you observe ?* 
 "Truly,* I replied, "I have seen an admirable counte- 
 nance; for I can conceive nothing superior to the strength 
 in repose, and greatness in quiescence, which it indicates.* 
 "You find its expression, then, calm and tranquil?* 
 " Perfectly. But why do you ask that question ? * said I, 
 much astonished at the tone of emotion with which the 
 General had put this question.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 293 
 
 He had not time to answer. One of his aids-de-camp 
 came to the little window of the box to call him. This 
 time he was absent longer, and on his return wore an air 
 of joy; his eyes were directed toward the box of the 
 First Consul with an expression which I could not under- 
 stand. The First Consul was buttoning- the gray coat 
 which he wore over the uniform of the Consular Guard, 
 and was preparing to leave the box. As soon as this 
 was perceived, the acclamations were renewed as vehe- 
 mently as on his entrance. 
 
 At this moment, Junot, no longer able to conquer his 
 emotion, leaned upon the back of my chair and burst 
 into tears. <( Calm yourself, w said I, leaning toward him 
 to conceal him from my mother, who would certainly 
 have exercised her wit upon him. (< Calm yourself, I en- 
 treat you. How can a sentiment altogether joyful pro- 
 duce such an effect upon you ? w "Ah!" replied Junot, 
 quite low, but with an expression I shall never forget; 
 (< he has narrowly escaped death ! the assassins are at this 
 moment arrested. w 
 
 I could hardly restrain an exclamation, but Junot per- 
 emptorily silenced me. (< Say nothing; )'ou will be over- 
 heard. Let us hasten out, w said he. He was so much 
 agitated that he gave me my mother's shawl, and her 
 mine; then, taking my arm, made me hastily descend 
 the staircase which led to a private door opening upon 
 the Rue de Louvois, reserved for the authorities and the 
 diplomatic body. My mother, conducted by my brother, 
 rejoined us at the glass door, and jestingly asked the 
 General if he meant to carry me off. Junot, though 
 cheerful, still had his mind too much fixed on important 
 subjects to reply to her raillery; my thoughts were 
 wholly occupied by the few words he had said in the 
 box, and the silence and haste imposed upon me alarmed 
 and seriously affected me. Junot observed my paleness, 
 and, fearing that I should faint, ran into the street, 
 though it rained in torrents, without listening to my 
 mother, to find our carriages and servants. 
 
 He met with his own first; my mother did not perceive it 
 till she was already on the step, but immediately made 
 an effort to withdraw. Junot, reminding her of the rain 
 and her health, with a gentle pressure compelled her to 
 get in; then whispering to me, (< All is right; for heaven's
 
 294 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 sake compose yourself, and say nothing !® called to his 
 coachman, "Rue Sainte Croix. » Then, taking Albert's 
 arm, they went together to seek my mother's carriage, 
 in which they followed, or rather preceded us; for we 
 found them at home on our arrival. 
 
 My mother was throughout her life a sort of worshiper 
 of etiquette, and of the usages which should form the 
 code of elegance and good breeding. If she ever failed 
 in them herself, it was from an excessive vivacity which 
 she could not always command; not from ignorance of 
 what was correct, or any intention of neglecting it. 
 Notwithstanding her acute and amiable disposition, she 
 attached an extreme importance to these trifles; more so 
 than can be conceived, without taking into consideration 
 the education she had received, and the seal of indelible 
 prejudice which the circumstances of the times had im- 
 pressed upon them. 
 
 No sooner were we alone and in the carriage than she 
 began to dilate upon the dissatisfaction Junot had caused 
 her. 
 
 a What is the meaning of all this hurrying backward 
 and forward, and in gala costume too ? Who would ever 
 have believed that I should give my arm to an officer in 
 uniform to leave the Opera ? It is too ridiculous. I will 
 tell him not to go to the Opera again in uniform. He 
 will understand the propriety of it; he has sense and 
 good taste. And then to leave us hanging upon Albert's 
 two arms, making him resemble a pitcher with two 
 handles! Who ever saw a man of fashion give his arm 
 to two women at once ? It is very well for Sike's first 
 clerk to gallant the wife and daughter of his master to 
 the theater in that manner. But a more serious fault 
 which I have to reproach him with is putting me into 
 his carriage. It is to be hoped no one of distinction was 
 near. Did you observe whether any of our acquaintance 
 were in the corridor ? * 
 
 I had seen several persons whom I knew just before I 
 got into the carriage, but I should have been very un- 
 willing to increase her displeasure by telling her so; I 
 had not time, however, to answer before we stopped at 
 our own door, and Albert and Junot, already arrived, 
 received us there. Junot led my mother to her apart- 
 ment, placed her on her sofa, surrounded her by those
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 295 
 
 thousand and one little things which are necessary to the 
 comfort of an invalid; then seating himself upon a stool 
 at her feet, and taking her hands in his, assumed a tone 
 suitable to the important event he was about to relate. 
 He informed her that Ceracchi and Ar6na — the one 
 actuated by Republican fanaticism, the other by venge- 
 ance — had taken measures to assassinate Bonaparte. 
 
 As General Junot proceeded in his account his voice 
 became stronger, his language more emphatic; every 
 word was a thought, and every thought came from his 
 heart. In painting Bonaparte such as he saw him daily 
 — such, in fact, as he was at that time — his masculine 
 and sonorous voice assumed a tone of sweetness: it was 
 melody; but when he proceeded to speak of those men 
 who, to satisfy their vengeance or their senseless am- 
 bitions, would assassinate him who was at that moment 
 charged with the futurity of France, his voice failed, 
 broken by sobs, and, leaning his head upon my mother's 
 pillow, he wept like a child; then, as if ashamed of his 
 weakness, he went to seat himself in the most obscure 
 corner of the room. 
 
 My mother's heart was formed to understand such a 
 heart as Junot's; and, open as she was to all the tender 
 emotions, she was violently agitated by the state in 
 which she saw him. In her turn she burst into tears. 
 (< How you love him ! w 
 
 (< How I love him ! 8 answered he, firmly joining his 
 hands, and raising his eyes to heaven. <( Yes, I love 
 him! Judge, w continued he, rising and promenading the 
 room as he spoke — <( judge what I suffered a few days ago, 
 when your daughter, with an eloquence foreign to her 
 sex and age, convinced us that all barriers, all precau- 
 tions, would fall before the poniard of an assassin, pro- 
 vided he were but willing to sacrifice his own life. But 
 what more particularly hurt me was to hear her repre- 
 sent this same assassin as becoming great by his crime. w 
 
 My mother looked at me with a countenance of dis- 
 satisfaction. Albert, who was sitting near the fire, said 
 nothing; but I was sure he did not blame me. 
 
 <( All that," said my mother, (< comes of Laurette's 
 speaking upon subjects which are not in the province of 
 women. I have often told her how much that habit im- 
 paired her power of pleasing; but she pays no attention
 
 296 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 to what I say on the subject. In my time we only knew 
 that the month of May was the month of roses, and our 
 igorance did not make us the less agreeable. For my 
 scientific education, I never read any book but w Telem- 
 achus, n and yet, I believe, I can converse without being 
 tiresome. I hope, my dear child, that you will correct 
 that error. w 
 
 (< Ah, I hope not! 8 answered General Junot. <c You 
 have misunderstood me: it was not what Mademoiselle 
 Laurette said which gave me pain; but I immediately 
 considered that you were acquainted with Arena, that 
 he often visited here ; that you also knew Ceracchi ; that 
 these men might have heard your daughter speak in the 
 same strain ; and that the soul and the head of the latter 
 especially was capable of replying to the appeal which 
 he might fancy to be thus made to him through the lips 
 of a young girl, and might in consequence develop a few 
 moments sooner his diabolical intentions. All this is ver)' 
 ridiculous, very senseless, is it not? B continued the Gen- 
 eral, seeing my brother smile at the last words, <( but I 
 cannot help it; for the last week I have not, in fact, 
 been master of my own thoughts. You may judge if 
 they were likely to be calmed by the First Consul's reso- 
 lution of going to the Opera this evening to expose him- 
 self to the poniards of assassins! We have yet only 
 taken Ceracchi, Arena, and, I believe, Demerville.* 
 They are just taken; but they were not the only con- 
 spirators. It is pretended that England and the English 
 committee are concerned — always the English! There 
 are really only two motives: one is the hatred of the 
 family and of Corsica, the other a fanaticism of liberty 
 carried to madness. This is what should alarm the 
 friends of the First Consul. The most active police has 
 no power in such a case, and no means of prevention. 8 
 
 <( And what, n said my mother, <( does Fouche say to all this. w 
 
 The General made no answer, but his forehead became 
 wrinkled and his brows contracted; he crossed his arms 
 on his breast, and continued his walk some time in si- 
 lence; then said, <( Don't speak to me of that man." 
 
 His expression, even in silence, was of such a nature 
 that it stupefied us all. I have since learned the cause 
 
 *A man of the name of Diana was an accomplice, and arrested the 
 same evening.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 297 
 
 of this sentiment, which broke through all Junot's efforts 
 to restrain it; and I felt what he must have suffered 
 under such a conviction. 
 
 (< No; do not speak to me of that man, particularly to- 
 day. I have had a scene with him this morning! If he 
 had a heart — but he knew better. If he had but red blood 
 in his veins, we should ha\e cut each other's throats like 
 brave men — like men, at least. What nonsense to come 
 and tell me that this affair of Ceracchi was but child's 
 play! — to me, who for twelve days past have followed 
 him step by step, while he But he is in the 
 
 right, w he continued, with a bitter smile; <( he told me, 
 and I believe it is true, that he should know as much 
 about it in an hour. I am almost sure of the treason 
 of . . .» 
 
 Albert, who had risen, approached Junot and whispered 
 to him. The General made an inclination of his head, 
 and pressed my brother's hand; they again exchanged a 
 few words, and he resumed: 
 
 w And what do you think he said upon this resolution 
 of the First Consul to go to the Opera ? He blamed him 
 as I did ; but what was the motive ? ' Because, ' says he, 
 ( it is an ambush. > You suppose, no doubt, that this 
 deprecated ambush was for the First Consul ? No such 
 thing; it was for these honest rascals, whose necks I would 
 wring as willingly as a sparrow's,* and with no more 
 scruple, after what I have learned of them, and the honor- 
 able function which I find them exercising. He made 
 me an oration, which I believe was taken from his col- 
 lection of homilies, by which he proposed to prove that 
 the affair might be prevented going to this length. As 
 I had already had a very warm discussion upon the same 
 subject with a personage whom the First Consul will 
 know some day for what he really is (and the time is 
 happily not far distant), and as I knew that this person- 
 age and Fouche had been emulating each other in their 
 interference in this affair, I was desirous that my way of 
 thinking should be equally known to both of them. I 
 therefore obliged Fouche" to explain himself clearly, and 
 
 * I make my husband speak here in the language he used in familiar 
 intercourse, when sufficiently excited to neglect to speak in a more 
 formal style ; which, however, when so disposed, he could do as well 
 as many others, if not better.
 
 298 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUXOT 
 
 to tell me that it was wrong to lead on these men to the 
 moment of executing their design, since it could be pre- 
 vented. That was his opinion. 
 
 <( ( And thus,* said I, ( you would replace in society two 
 men who have evidently conspired against the Chief of 
 the State, and that not to force him to resign his authority, 
 not to remove him from it, but to murder him for the 
 satisfaction of their own passions. Do you believe that 
 Ceracchi — content to die if, in sacrificing himself, he 
 could kill the First Consul ; putting him to death to glut 
 an inordinate passion, in obedience to a species of mono- 
 mania — do you believe that this madman will be cured 
 .by a single admonition, or by an act of generosity ? 
 No; he must kill the man, whom he looks upon as a 
 tyrant, and whom he will never be induced to see in any 
 other light. Or do you believe that Arena, during so 
 many years the enemy of General Bonaparte, will abjure 
 his hatred against the First Consul because the latter 
 has taken up the character of Augustus ? Xo. It is his 
 death they desire. Listen to the expression of Ceracchi 
 in buying a poniard: (< I should like better a good 
 
 KNIFE THAT DOES NOT SHUT, AND THE BLADE SOLID AND 
 SURE, WHICH WILL NOT FAIL IN THE HAND ! * To leave a 
 
 determined assassin like this to his bloodthirsty contriv- 
 ances, what is it but to ensure to-morrow the full execu- 
 tion of the project you have averted to-day ? 
 
 <c ( This is not my first knowledge of the Arenas. The 
 First Consul, who is thoroughly good-hearted, is willing 
 to forget the evil they have always been forward to do 
 him. But I have not so forgiving a soul. I remember 
 his arrest in the South.* I have heard the particulars 
 of the 1 8th Brumaire,f and am completely acquainted 
 with all the circumstances of the present affair. J Cer- 
 
 *When Bonaparte was arrested by command of Salicetti, the 
 Adjutant-General Arena, the Commissary Denniee, and the Command- 
 ant of Gendarmerie Vervain, were the persons intrusted with the execu- 
 tion of the order. 
 
 + It is Junot who speaks: he was convinced that the representative 
 Arena, elder brother of the conspirator (they must not be confounded), 
 had attempted to assassinate General Bonaparte at Saint Cloud. I do 
 not believe it; he hated Bonaparte, but would not have assassinated 
 him. 
 
 X The plan of the conspirators was to stab the First Consul as he 
 came out of his box, which, as I have before observed, was on the left
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 299 
 
 tainly I trembled to see the First Consul go to face 
 death, which, notwithstanding all our cares, he might en- 
 counter; but, on the other hand, I saw but this means 
 of cutting through the net they had cast around him. 
 His existence would be rendered miserable supposing it 
 were preserved. There would be daily new conspiracies 
 — a hydra constantly reviving.* 
 
 "When Fouche\ w continued Junot, "found that I saw 
 through him, notwithstanding his cunning, he had recourse 
 to the sentiments of humanity. He, Fouche! He ha- 
 rangued me in the style of a homily, and all this with a 
 head that one would suppose he had stolen from a 
 skeleton. Oh, what a man! And the First Consul will 
 place faith in his words! At length we shall see the 
 conclusion of this affair, which he and another called 
 child's play — reason in all things. w 
 
 My mother listened attentively, and I remarked that 
 during General Junot's long discourse she and my brother 
 often interchanged signs of acquiescence. When he had 
 ceased speaking, she told him how just she considered 
 his observations upon the Arenas to be. (< They nourish 
 hatred in their hearts," said she — "a hatred which may 
 be dated long previously to the 18th Brumaire, or to the 
 events of Italy. I know not from what it arises, but I 
 am sure that it exists. One thing that surprises me is, 
 that Napoleon, Lucien, and Joseph are the sole objects of 
 this hatred; and I believe they return it, though, to say 
 the truth, I have only conjectures respecting their senti- 
 ments, while I have proofs of the hatred of the Arenas 
 toward them. With respect to Ceracchi, nothing you 
 could say of him would surprise me. Permon, who knew 
 him in Italy, introduced him to me at a ball at M. Del- 
 anoue's. Since then I have sometimes seen him at 
 Madame Magimelli's, at Auteuil; I acknowledge that his 
 exaggerated notions have made me tremble, yet his dis- 
 taste of life and his profound melancholy rendered him 
 interesting. w 
 
 between the columns. At this period the First Consul went in and out 
 by the general entrance. The gallery and the staircase leading to the 
 Rue de Louvois were always crowded with people to see him pass. 
 The assassins were to strike as he stepped out of the box. Colonel 
 Savary behaved nobly on this occasion ; he would leave the box first, 
 though he was not the person appointed to do so.
 
 300 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUXOT 
 
 I have also seen this Ceracchi, and witnessed some of 
 his ebullitions of enthusiastic Republicanism at Madame 
 Magimelli's, and I confess he had not produced upon my 
 mind the same disagreeable impressions that he had up- 
 on my mother. I pitied him warmly, for it was impos- 
 sible not to perceive that his excessive sensibility must 
 render him miserable. 
 
 The conversation now returned to the Arenas; my 
 mother was much affected by this arrest. Her native 
 country was always dear to her heart, and Arena was a 
 fellow-countryman. Junot put several questions to her 
 respecting the conduct of the brothers for some years 
 past at Paris. My mother communicated all that she 
 knew on the subject, and it was but little, because, of 
 all the Corsicans at Paris, the Arenas were those who 
 visited her the least frequently. 
 
 This conversation, however, brought to my mother's 
 recollection a rather remarkable one which passed between 
 her and Pepe Arena on the 17th Brumaire, the eve of the 
 famous 1 8th. On that day we were visited by several 
 Corsican representatives, whom we had not seen for some 
 time before, and among them Pepe* Ar6na. He came in 
 the morning. His countenance was full of care, and she 
 remarked it to him. He smiled, but his smile was forced. 
 He spoke to her of Corsica, of my grandmother and my 
 uncles, then suddenly inquired if she had seen Lucien 
 lately. My mother answered that she saw him nearly 
 every day, which was true, and, as she had much friend- 
 ship for the young tribune of the people, she spoke of 
 the high reputation he had already acquired as an orator: 
 my brother-in-law, who, as we have seen, was his inti- 
 mate friend, at that time frequently brought us the jour- 
 nals which reported the speeches (almost always extempore) 
 which he pronounced in the Council of Five Hundred. 
 Some of these improvisations contained admirable strokes 
 of eloquence. a I do not always agree in opinion with 
 him," said my mother, <( but I do not, therefore, the less 
 esteem his talents and his character. w 
 
 " He is very young to wish to direct us, w said Ar£na, 
 with an expression of some bitterness (Lucien was, in 
 fact, the youngest member of the Council of Five Hun- 
 dred). c< But it seems to me that your opinions are the 
 same," replied my mother; "what, then, signifies the age
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 301 
 
 of a man, provided he has ability ? His brother has not 
 waited to be forty years old to gain battles. w <( Ah, ah ! 
 you are reconciled with General Bonaparte. He has been, 
 then, to beg pardon, for, faith, he could do no less. 8 
 (< We are not now discussing the subject of pardon or 
 offenses, w said my mother, a little displeased. <( I was 
 speaking of Lucien and the glory of his brother. w * 
 
 At the moment when Pdpe* was about to reply some 
 one entered, and the conversation instantly ceased. 
 Ar£na soon after took up his hat to depart; my mother 
 invited him to dine which he declined, pleading an en- 
 gagement in the country. My mother told him, laugh- 
 ing, that he was offended, which he denied; but she 
 afterward told us that from that moment she was con- 
 vinced that Lucien, and whoever bore the name of Bon- 
 aparte, was held in great dislike by Arena. 
 
 CHAPTER XLI. 
 
 My Mother's Illness and Long Convalescence — My Brother's Treasures 
 — Watching and Supper — The Bath, a Betrayer — Scene of Burglary 
 by Night — Terrible Alarms — Conversation of the Thieves — Fright- 
 ful Situation — Recital of this Adventure to the First Consul — Bona- 
 parte's Singular Question. 
 
 In the first year of the Consulate one of those adven- 
 tures happened to me which sometimes influence the 
 whole life of an individual, by making an entire 
 change in the character of some of its attributes. The 
 impression made upon my mind by the terrors of the 
 night I am going to describe was so great that I lost for 
 a time every vestige of courage; and if its effects have 
 at length been sufficiently overcome to prevent me from 
 making myself ridiculous, I have rather to thank the ef- 
 forts of my reason for the remedy than the simple opera- 
 tion of time. 
 
 My mother was recovering from a malady as alarm- 
 ing as it was painful — an abscess of the head, caused 
 
 *One of the most curious effects of my mother's relations with 
 Napoleon was that anything said against him in her presence always 
 offended her. She only spoke of her own displeasure with him to 
 her most intimate friends.
 
 302 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 by a severe blow against a marble mantelpiece. During the 
 thirteen days in which the humor was forming, my poor 
 mother's sufferings were distracting, and without a mo- 
 ment's respite. Fortunately it found a vent by the ear; 
 for a long time afterward the smallest unusual noise 
 produced headaches so violent that they were at first at- 
 tributed to tic douloureux. Her convalescence was very 
 tedious, and demanded the utmost care. The doctors 
 particularly ordered that her sleep should be prolonged 
 as much as possible, and that she should be kept per- 
 fectly quiet. 
 
 My brother was in the habit of spending the ddcadi in 
 the country, and not returning home till the following 
 morning. In consequence of some business he was trans- 
 acting for a friend, he had, on the night I am speaking 
 of, the temporary custody of a large sum of money, and 
 both these circumstances were known to a porter whom 
 he had been long in the habit of employing in various 
 commissions. This man had carried home for my brother 
 a chest clamped with iron, and secured by a capital 
 lock ; its contents were valuable, and so heavy that the 
 man was much fatigued by his exertions, and Albert 
 offered him a glass of wine, saying: "Drink, my poor 
 fellow, it will do you good, for you are terribly hot. w 
 
 The porter, shaking his head, observed, <( Oh, I am 
 accustomed to act the beast of burden ; you could not 
 have carried half as much." My brother, whose cheerful 
 and sociable temper made him always ready with a jest, 
 answered him, laughing, <( But I have carried double, 
 though. 9 At first the man started and exclaimed, * It 
 is impossible ! w but presently added, <( Oh, I understand ! * 
 and was about to depart, when he was ordered to fetch 
 my brother's cabriolet for his excursion to Sainte Mande\ 
 
 When, however, the cabriolet was at the door, and the 
 porter, who by his habits of employment in the family 
 knew that Albert would not return till the next morn- 
 ing, had departed, the plan was changed and the carriage 
 remanded in consequence of my mother's unwillingness 
 to part with my brother. The day passed happily, and 
 my mother went to bed at her usual hour, and in good 
 spirits. 
 
 I remained by her side till she was asleep, and when 
 convinced by the regularity of her respiration that she
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 303 
 
 was so, I left her about midnight, and repaired to my 
 own apartment, separated from that of my mother only 
 by a door, which I left ajar. I then took up a book, 
 being unwilling to retire to my bed till quite satisfied 
 that my mother's sleep would be calm. The silence of 
 night now enveloped the city, only broken at intervals 
 by the rapid passage of a carriage, or a distant murmur, 
 which served to show that some few individuals were 
 still awake; these sounds, however, were more and more 
 rarely heard, till at length the quiet in the street 
 became as complete as that which reigned in my own 
 apartment. 
 
 By a small timepiece on my little table I observed that 
 it now wanted but a quarter to one. My mother had 
 then been an hour asleep, and I concluded that I might 
 safely lie down ; but in preparing to do so I found myself 
 hungry, and began to look round for my supper. The 
 habit of sitting up a great part of the night had obliged 
 me to supply the want of rest with an extra meal, and 
 some fruit with bread or cake was gene'rally left in my 
 room for this purpose. Sometimes, however, this was 
 forgotten both by the servants and myself, and on such 
 occasions I seldom slept well. This night I looked in 
 vain for my usual refreshment, but the key of the dining- 
 room lay on my table. 
 
 The kitchen was in the basement, the offices of the 
 domestic establishment on the ground floor, my mother's 
 apartments and mine on the first floor, my brother's on 
 the second, and the sleeping rooms of the servants, not 
 one of whom was lodged below us, all in the attic story. 
 The rooms surrounded the staircase, and were connected 
 by a gallery. 
 
 On seeing the dining-room key, which was always 
 deposited in my room when the apartments were closed 
 for the night, I remembered that in the buffet I should 
 find something to eat, and, accordingly, with as little 
 noise as possible, fearing that I might wake my mother, 
 I opened my own door and crossed the landing place to 
 that of the dining-room. There I found both straw- 
 berries and bread, and, helping myself, I was about to sit 
 down at the dining-table to eat them, but recollecting 
 that my mother might awake and be alarmed if she 
 called without receiving an answer, I returned with my
 
 3 04 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 supper to my own room. Having bolted my door rather 
 from habit than prudence, I sat down with a good appe- 
 tite and commenced with alacrity to make an inroad 
 upon the excellent strawberries. 
 
 I had long been mistress of the establishment, and one 
 of the rules of good housekeeping which I had found 
 the most difficult in enforcing had always been the 
 retirement of the servants for the night at the same 
 time with ourselves. My instructions were that by 
 twelve o'clock everyone in the house should be in bed; 
 but there were certain parties at dominoes and cards 
 which sometimes kept them up till two o'clock in the 
 morning, and I had threatened, and was determined, to 
 punish the next infraction of my rule which I should 
 detect. 
 
 I had been at supper about ten minutes, when the 
 perfect quiet of the house was interrupted by a noise 
 below stairs. My suspicions were immediately awakened, 
 and the idea that my imperial will was again disobeyed 
 put me much out of humor. While I was grumbling 
 and eating, my suspicions were changed to conviction; 
 the noise of footsteps, regular, light, and slow, as those 
 of persons fearing to be heard, distinctly reached my 
 ear. I was sure that some persons were coming up the 
 first flight of stone stairs. 
 
 Determined to confront them in the very act, I noise- 
 lessly approached the door of my room which opened 
 upon the stairs, and was slowly and carefuly withdraw- 
 ing the bolt, saying to myself, (< I shall not this time be 
 told that you never sit up after midnight; it is now one 
 by my timepiece *; but wishing to make quite sure of 
 my object, I held the second bolt in my hand to wait 
 till the whole procession, shoes in hand as I supposed, 
 should be in the act of passing the door. At this 
 moment a noise, which I could compare to nothing but 
 a stroke upon a great drum, saluted my ears, and made 
 me start. It came from my mother's bath, which stood 
 at one corner of the landing. 
 
 Still more provoked by this noise, which I feared 
 would wake my mother, I was about to throw open the 
 door, when I suddenly reflected that the servants, who 
 knew where the bath was, would certainly not have suf- 
 fered themselves to be betrayed by it. But if it were
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 305 
 
 not they, who could it be ? This uncertainty made my 
 heart beat and so shook my frame that I was obliged to 
 lean against the doorpost for support, while I instinctively 
 replaced the bolts I had so imprudently withdrawn. 
 During this interval the persons were mounting the 
 second staircase; this being of wood, I could hear 
 them much more distinctly than before, and was satis- 
 fied that their shoes were much stouter and more clumsy 
 than those of any of our household. What was I to do ! 
 Should I wake my mother ? The consequence would cer- 
 tainly be a frightful increase of her illness. I had not, 
 it is true, any certainty that the nocturnal intruders were 
 banditti but at that time the most horrible assassina- 
 tions were common, not only in the neighborhood of 
 the capital, but in Paris itself. These reflections passed 
 through my mind much quicker than I can write them, 
 but brought no counsel that promised relief from my 
 painful state of apprehension. 
 
 I listened long and anxiously for some further noise, 
 but all was quiet; it was a false alarm, thought I, and 
 was certainly the servants; I began to breathe more 
 freely, and looked at my timepiece, thinking that an hour 
 at least had passed while I was upon the watch; how 
 much was I surprised to find that the hand had only ad- 
 vanced ten minutes! As all was quiet, I proposed to 
 finish my supper and go to bed, but I trembled, and 
 could scarcely swallow; however, I ate my strawberries, 
 and had the last spoonful in my hand, when a very dis- 
 tinct creaking and the repressed sounds of several foot- 
 steps proved that the persons I had before heard were 
 now coming down the second staircase. The noise was 
 not produced by an alarmed imagination — it was real; 
 persons were coming down stairs with precaution, but cer- 
 tainly coming down ; and I could no longer flatter myself 
 that it was the servants. 
 
 On reaching the landing place between my door and 
 that of the dining-room, two persons sat down on the 
 steps of the staircase and began to converse in an under- 
 tone. Trembling from head to foot, I, however, again 
 approached the door, and, listening, heard a few broken 
 sentences, from which I gathered that they believed Al- 
 bert to be in the country; something, too, I heard of 
 the impenetrable locks of La Dru, two of which fastened
 
 3 o6 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 his door, and something of its being useless to break into 
 my mother's room. Beyond this I could only collect the 
 broken words — <( late w — * daybreak w — (< mother 8 — 
 w nothing here w — w upstairs n — (< the young one's door. M 
 Something was said in reply, and the answer, (< Well, 
 let us try ! w accompanied by the sound of several pieces 
 of iron, gently laid down upon the stone, completed my 
 terror. I considered a moment whether I had not for- 
 gotten to shut the dining-room door, by which an entry 
 would be offered to the whole suite of apartments. 
 
 I looked round, and the sight of the key lying upon 
 my table just afforded me presence of mind enough to 
 determine how to act; it was manifest they were en- 
 deavoring to open that door; its resistance could not be 
 long. To wake my mother was now indispensable, and I 
 did so with all the precaution I was capable of. But I 
 could not secure her against alarm ; and I had no sooner 
 pronounced the word * thieves, 8 than with her usual pre- 
 cipitation she seized the three bell-pulls which were sus- 
 pended by her bed, and pulled them all together, scream- 
 ing at the same time with all her strength. 
 
 8 Oh, recollect Albert ! You will be his death ! * I ex- 
 claimed, convinced that the first sound of her bell would 
 bring him out quite unprepared to meet the attack of 
 assassins; but while I was making these reflections, and 
 endeavoring to hush her screams, I heard the villains 
 run off, and from the continued sound of hurried steps 
 on the stairs felt convinced that some of them had been 
 left to pursue their attempts upon my brother's patent 
 locks, while the two had been consulting near my door 
 upon their ulterior operations. 
 
 The first sound of the bell had alarmed them, and they 
 were now in hasty retreat. I ran to my window, which 
 overlooked our court, and while I screamed loudly for 
 help, to disturb the coachman and neighbors, saw the last 
 two of the thieves jumping from our wall into the great 
 timber yard, then in the Rue Joubert, and which sep- 
 arated our house from that of M. de Caulaincourt. 
 
 Meanwhile my mother continued to ring and call, and 
 the family were soon moving; my brother, on opening 
 his door, found a centerbit introduced just below the 
 first bolt, and some progress already made in working it; 
 but the landing before my door was a perfect arsenal;
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 307 
 
 there lay two more centerbits, a crowbar, several iron 
 hooks to serve for picklocks, and two or three keys. My 
 brother put on his greatcoat, and went out to alarm the 
 police. The gate of the timber yard was found open, 
 and a ladder against our wall; but no further trace of 
 the robbers was discovered. It was morning when he 
 returned ; he found my mother better than could be 
 expected, but distracted on my account. I had received 
 a shock, the immediate effect of which was terrible, and 
 threatened to be lasting. 
 
 I was seized with a fever, which brought on delirium ; 
 the impression of the thieves on the landing was always 
 vividly before me, and the idea that they were murder- 
 ing me, and that my poor mother would wake in the 
 midst of assassins, covered with the blood of her child, 
 was for a length of time never absent from my mind. 
 They feared for my life, or at least for my reason. I was 
 conducted from place to place, every effort to divert me 
 was tried, and my own exertions assisting the affectionate 
 attentions of those around me, my health improved; and 
 though for a long time I was the greatest coward imagin- 
 able, and have always continued unreasonably timid, I 
 am now able to rally my thoughts, and to exert some 
 presence of mind, even in circumstances of actual 
 danger. 
 
 w There, sire, B said I to the Emperor, on concluding 
 this history (it was in the year 1806), <( is the true cause 
 of my cowardice which you were inquiring about. I am 
 not now so foolish as to be unable, like a child of six 
 years old, to remain for a moment in the dark; but my 
 nervous system continues painfully affected by the con- 
 sequences of this fright. Neither reason nor any effort 
 of mind can remove the impression which the idea of 
 what would have been the consequence had I remained 
 in the dining-room to eat my strawberries has produced. )} 
 And though six years had elapsed since that terrible night, 
 the Emperor observed me turn pale, and said so. 
 
 <( I assure Your Majesty that the same impression has 
 often happened to me after this event, when I have only 
 had occasion to cross that fearful landing place. w u It is 
 strange, n said the Emperor, and began to pace the room. 
 
 The Emperor, after continuing his walk some time, 
 and when other recollections had superseded in my mind
 
 3 o8 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 the history I had related, suddenly stopped opposite to A 
 me and said, (< Has not this adventure given you a great 
 antipathy to strawberries ? * 
 
 For a few seconds I made no answer, and then said 
 "No, sire; I am, on the contrary, passionately fond of 
 them." <( That is the nature of women," said he; "danger 
 attracts them. 8 
 
 CHAPTER XLII. 
 
 Lucien's Republicanism, and a Remarkable Conversation with Him 
 after the Conspiracy of Ceracchi — The Explanation of Lucien's Em- 
 bassy to Spain — The Consul of the Year VIII. and the Consul of the 
 Year IX. — Bonaparte's Observation to Junot on the Occasion of My 
 Marriage and the Conspiracy — Junot's Family — My Brother's Gener- 
 osity, and the Delicacy of His Conduct toward Me — M. Lequien de 
 Bois-Cressy — Signature of My Marriage Contract by the First Con- 
 sul, and Singular Recollections — Goodness of Bonaparte toward 
 My Brother — M. Duquesnoy, Junot's Friend — Accumulated Diffi- 
 culties— Junot's Repugnance to Be Married at Church — My Deter- 
 mination — Conversation between Me and Junot — My Brother's 
 Intervention, and My Marriage at Church Agreed to by Mutual Con- 
 cession — Junot's Motives — Project of a Nocturnal Marriage — My 
 Trousseau and Corbeille — Junot's Present to My Mother. 
 
 Luciex came to see us some days after the discovery 
 of Arena and Ceracchi's conspiracy; he was thought- 
 ful, and did not conceal that the repeated attempts 
 upon his brother's life caused him serious uneasiness. 
 This was the third in the course of one year: the first 
 was on the road to Malmaison ; the second in the Tuil- 
 eries. " How, " said he, C( can such strokes be averted ? 
 Jacques Clement, Ravaillac, Damiens, Jean Chatel* — 
 all these men executed their projects, because, in form- 
 ing them, they held their own lives as nothing. If 
 Ceracchi had been alone, as was his original intention, 
 my brother had been no more ; but he thought, by tak- 
 ing associates, to make his success more certain; he de- 
 ceived himself." "But," observed my mother, "your 
 reflections are alarming; for how, then, can your brother 
 
 * Clement assassinated Henry III., Ravaillac Henry IV. , Damiens 
 attempted the life of Louis XV., and Chatel or Chastel attempted that of 
 Henry IV.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 309 
 
 be protected?" "He only can protect himself, B replied 
 Lucien. w He is the son of the Revolution ; he must 
 march in the principles it has consecrated; above all 
 things, he must forbear any attempt against the liberty 
 of the citizens. His route is marked out; he must follow 
 it, or he is lost, and we are lost with him. My brother 
 knows me, and Junot and all who are about him know 
 that I never cease to recall to his mind, with all the 
 energy of a French and free soul, the solemn engage- 
 ments which he contracted with the nation on the 19th 
 Brumaire, and of which I am the guarantee." 
 
 Then, turning toward Junot, he added: "You remem- 
 ber the conversation you heard four days ago ? Well, I 
 shall always speak thus, and no fear will make me deviate 
 from my path. If the men who surround my brother in 
 the Government choose to assist him in measures op- 
 pressive to the country, I shall not increase their number; 
 and on the last day of the liberty of the Republic I 
 shall go and seek another country.* 
 
 This conversation proves that Lucien was bent on op- 
 posing Napoleon's plans for a centralization of power. 
 That which Junot had heard at Malmaison was the dis- 
 cussion of many regulations relating to the prefects which 
 Lucien would not authorize, considering them too arbi- 
 trary. To resist Napoleon was to insure his revenge. 
 Lucien was indeed his brother, but the determination of 
 his character was in all things predominant; and this 
 conversation, together with Lucien's perseverance in re- 
 minding his brother of his promise of the 19th Brumaire, 
 explained to me his embassy to Spain, which took place 
 a few weeks afterward. 
 
 Already the Consul of the year ix. was contrasted with 
 the Consul of the year viii. — the General Bonaparte of 
 Toulon and Italy, founding republics, daughters of 
 France, with the General Bonaparte seeking to concen- 
 trate all the powers of the State in his own person. 
 Lucien might hear in my mother's salon reflections made 
 with a smile, in an undertone, by persons who had not 
 faith enough in Republican vocations to believe that 
 Bonaparte would support the system he announced on 
 the 19th Brumaire. Many were even simple enough to 
 speak of General Monk and Charles II. Lucien heard 
 all this and similar language from various quarters, and
 
 3 io MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 he wished to prevent, not the evil only, but the suspicion 
 of it. 
 
 When tranquillity was restored by the arrest of the 
 other conspirators (Topino-Lebrun, Demerville, etc.), the 
 •ceremony of my marriage was hastened. The First Con- 
 sul had said to Junot, <( Do you know that your marriage 
 has been held by a very slender thread, my poor Junot ? 
 For I believe if these rascals had killed me, the alliance 
 with you would have been little cared for. w Bonaparte 
 would not have uttered such a sentiment three or four 
 years before ; but on attaining absolute power he took 
 up an idea which was perhaps the cause of his ruin, but 
 to which he always attached great importance, that men 
 are governed and led by motives of interest or fear. 
 
 On the 27th of October all the family of Junot arrived 
 at Paris, and were presented to my mother; and never 
 till this day had I duly appreciated the virtues of his 
 heart. Sensible of the wide difference which a Parisian 
 education and constant intercourse with the best society 
 of Paris made between our manners and those of his 
 mother and sister, who knew nothing beyond the towns 
 of Burgundy, he dreaded to perceive in me a contemptuous 
 ridicule, which would have rendered him miserable; and 
 never shall I forget the expression of tenderness and re- 
 spect with which he presented his mother to mine, and 
 the action which seemed to entreat, though he never 
 used the words, that I would be a daughter to his par- 
 ents. He had no reason to fear. They were too good 
 and too respectable not to demand and to secure my 
 duty and love. 
 
 The next day the marriage contract was signed, and it 
 was not till that moment that I learned that my brother, 
 from his own means, endowed me with 60,000 francs, in 
 satisfaction, as the marriage settlement expressed it, of 
 my claims on the paternal inheritance. My claims! when 
 we all knew that none of my father's property ever had 
 been or ever would be realized; the greater part of it 
 was in the English funds; but it would not have been 
 agreeable to General Junot to receive my dower as a gift 
 from my brother, and therefore this clause was intro- 
 duced. Fifty thousand francs more were added by M. 
 Lequien de Bois-Cressy, an old friend of my father, and 
 who was to be my mother's second husband ; he gave me
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 311 
 
 his dower as his future stepdaughter, secured upon an 
 estate in Brittany. He was rich and liberal; I was not, 
 therefore, surprised at this present; but that my brother, 
 who, from the proceeds of his own industry, had main- 
 tained my mother's house, and furnished my expensive 
 education, should now act so generously, was even more 
 than my gratitude could express; nor was this lessened 
 by the affectionate terms in which he replied to my in- 
 sufficient thanks. 
 
 (< Do not speak thus, * said he, embracing me with that 
 fraternal tenderness which he had always shown me; <( do 
 you not know that my mother and yourself are the sole 
 objects of my affection and of my happiness? I live only 
 for you. It is, then, quite natural that the produce of 
 my labors should be employed for your benefit. A great 
 and an unhoped-for marriage is offered you; the money is 
 my own, and how could I dispose of it better than in 
 making your fortune some way proportionate to the 
 establishment you are about to form? • 
 
 A circumstance arising out of this will show the First 
 Consul's prodigious memory, even in matters of the 
 smallest importance to himself. The following day, the 
 29th of October, Junot, accompanied by my brother as 
 my nearest relation, attended at the Tuileries for the 
 signature of the marriage contract. The First Consul 
 received my brother with great kindness, questioned him 
 upon his prospects and his intentions, spoke of my 
 mother with friendship, and of me with an interest 
 which affected me much when Albert repeated the con- 
 versation. 
 
 But for the singular part of the interview : he desired 
 the contract to be read to him. When the 60,000 francs 
 from my paternal inheritance were named, he made 
 a movement indicative of surprise, and another, though 
 less marked, at the mention of the 50,000 francs of 
 M. de Bois-Cressy, but made no remark upon either. 
 When the reading was completed, he took my brother 
 by the arm, led him to the recess of a window, and said 
 to him, <( Permon, I remember that when your father 
 died he left nothing. At that period I visited your 
 mother daily, and you no doubt know," added he, with 
 an embarrassed air, <( that at the same time I was desir- 
 ous of marrying you to my sister, Madame Leclerc, and
 
 312 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 of arranging the future marriage of Mademoiselle Loulou 
 with that mauvais sujct, my brother Jerome. » ( He did 
 not speak of the principal marriage he planned at that 
 period!) "Well, Madame Permon then told me that her 
 husband left nothing. What, then, does this mean?" 
 
 Albert repeated to the First Consul what he had al- 
 ready said to me, entreating him not to mention it. 
 Napoleon looked at him with an indefinable expression, 
 and said, C( You are a generous fellow, my dear Permon ; 
 you are a generous fellow ; I shall take care of you. But 
 you allow yourself to be forgotten. Why do you never 
 come to the Tuileries ? Your brother-in-law will now 
 remind you of me, and will also remind me of you. B 
 Accordingly, a few days afterward, Junot solicited for 
 Albert a situation in which he might give proofs of his 
 attachment to the cause of the 9th of November, and 
 the First Consul appointed him to one of the three then ex- 
 isting posts of Commissary-General of the police of France. 
 The day preceding my marriage, a circumstance at 
 once trifling and serious had nearly caused its rupture. 
 A friend of Junot's, M. Duquesnoy, was Mayor of the 7th 
 arrondissement ; the General, as Commandant of Paris, not 
 belonging more to one mayoralty than another, wished his 
 marriage to be performed before M. Duquesnoy; and he 
 inquired of my mother whether she supposed it would 
 make any difference to me. My mother replied that she 
 was herself perfectly willing, and did not believe that I 
 should be otherwise, but that she would send for me to 
 answer for myself. On General Junot's putting his re- 
 quest to me, I answered, that in this, as in everything 
 else, my mother was mistress of my actions on so solemn 
 a day. I only observed that the distance to the mayor- 
 alty of M. Duquesnoy in the Rue de Jouy, Quartier Saint 
 Antoine, was long, and that I should not fear fatiguing 
 my mother if it were no farther off than our church of 
 St. Louis, which, being at the extremity of the Rue 
 Thiroux, was directly opposite our house. I did not at 
 that moment remark General Junot's astonishment; but, 
 having embraced my mother, left the room. 
 
 I was no sooner gone than the General asked my mother 
 if I expected to be married at church. 
 
 <( To be married at church ! B she cried ; « where, then, 
 would you have her expect to be married? Before your
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 313 
 
 friend with the scarf, I suppose ? But, my dear boy, you 
 have surely lost your wits. How could you entertain the 
 idea that not my daughter only, but myself and her 
 brother, could consent to a purely civil marriage ? As for 
 Laurette, I promise you she is capable of thanking- you 
 for your intentions if you should propose this to her!" 
 General Junot walked about much agitated. a Will you 
 permit me to speak upon the subject to Mademoiselle 
 Laurette in private ? Situated as we now are, there can 
 be no objection to my request. " 
 
 My mother shrugged her shoulders. « You know not 
 what you are talking of," said she; « until you become her 
 husband, you are but a stranger, and what you wish to 
 say is not likely to make her your friend: why do you 
 want to make a secret of it ? Why am I not to be 
 present ? " « Because calmness is necessary in treating of 
 such a matter; but I can speak to Mademoiselle Laurette 
 here, with the door of your chamber open." 
 
 I was called: nothing could exceed my astonishment, 
 my grief I may say, in hearing this strange proposition. 
 I did not conceal it: the General replied that, situated as he 
 was, it was impossible he could be married at church, « to 
 make a show of myself," added he; "for you could not 
 prevent all the beggars and low people of the Chaussee 
 d'Antin from surrounding the house, and even filling the 
 church. And I am to appear in uniform amid such a crowd !" 
 "I do not know," I answered, « what you should find 
 disagreeable in being seen to perform an act which is the 
 duty of every Christian (I am not speaking as a devotee), 
 in entering upon the engagements which we propose to 
 take upon ourselves to-morrow. The very Pagans sought 
 the sanction of this act, the most important of their lives, 
 in the temples of their gods. The Turks only are content 
 with the Cadi, and I hope it is not from them you have 
 taken arguments in support of your extraordinary prop- 
 osition." «I am much hurt by your obstinacy," said 
 Junot; «how can you, with your sense, persist in a 
 formality which your education ought to have taught you 
 to consider a nullity ? " 
 
 «I am very young, General, to discuss so serious a 
 question. I understand nothing of the controversy, ex- 
 cept that I was born in the Christian religion, and that, 
 very certainly, I shall not stir a step from this house if
 
 3 i4 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 it be not to go where my duty calls me. Be assured, 
 General, that notwithstanding- the advanced state of the 
 preparations, our marriage will not take place unless the 
 Church shall bless it." 
 
 I stood up to go away. The General took my hand, 
 and saw that my eyes were full of tears. He stamped 
 his foot with violence, and let slip a very unusual ex- 
 pression. <( Junot! Junot!" cried my mother from her 
 chamber, where she heard all that passed — (< Junot! is 
 that proper language to use?" 
 
 "You afflict me greatly, " said the General. <( It dis- 
 tresses me to give you pain; but, after all, this is a mere 
 childish whim on your part, which you persist in because 
 you have been told to do so; while to me it is a matter 
 of serious consequence. Do you know that it is nothing 
 less than a confession of faith?" 
 
 • And suppose it is?" said I; "what was the religion 
 of your fathers? You have been baptized, you have been 
 confirmed, you have received your first communion, you 
 have confessed: here, then, are four sacraments of which 
 you have partaken, and when that of marriage comes in 
 its course, suddenly you turn renegade, apostate, per- 
 haps! No, no, General, it must not be." 
 
 Having said this I went to my mother's room, where 
 I found my brother. Junot followed me, and addressing 
 himself to Albert, submitted to him the question which 
 caused this debate; he was in despair; what I insisted 
 upon was of no importance whatever, he said, and would 
 seriously compromise him. "Well!* said I, standing up, 
 <( I can say no more upon the subject, of which I ought 
 never to have permitted the discussion. I only regret 
 that General Junot should for a moment have believed 
 that my principles would suffer me to accede to the 
 proposition he has this morning made. 8 
 
 I retired to my chamber, and was just then informed 
 that Mademoiselle L'Olive and Mademoiselle de Beuvry 
 were in the salon, and that they had brought in two 
 coaches the articles which composed my trousseau and 
 corbcille; * the two baskets which were to contain them 
 
 * We have no words exactly synonymous with these; both signify the 
 bridal paraphernalia. The <( trousseau* is that part of it which is fur- 
 nished by the bride's family. The ^corbeille* is the bridegroom's 
 present. — Translator.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 315 
 
 followed on a truck — that of the trousseau, in particular, 
 was so large that no coach could contain it. 
 
 I sent to request my brother's presence, and he came 
 to me immediately. (C My dear Albert," said I to him, 
 <( this affair will become serious if the intervention of 
 your friendship and excellent sense does not prevent it. 
 Not that I request your advice, because my resolution is 
 irrevocably taken, and if General Junot is equally deter- 
 mined a rupture is inevitable; to you, therefore, I refer 
 to render it as little as possible painful to our poor 
 mother. The blow will be terrible to her." 
 
 Albert took my two hands in his and embraced me 
 tenderly, wiping away my tears, which flowed abun- 
 dantly. He walked up and down the room in silent medi- 
 tation, then stopped some time before the window; my 
 maid, Josephine, came to require my attendance in my 
 mother's room. (< I cannot go," said I to Albert; and I 
 begged him to go to my mother, whose apartment was 
 only separated from mine by a very small drawing-room, 
 which had no door toward my chamber. He went, and 
 I had scarcely been ten minutes alone when my mother's 
 room door opened, and she came to me. <( My child," 
 she said, "here is one who does not ask your pardon, 
 which, nevertheless, I hope you will grant." 
 
 Those who were well acquainted with General Junot 
 know how much the expression of his countenance varied 
 when he was particularly agitated. At this moment he 
 was scarcely recognizable; he advanced behind my 
 mother, leaning on Albert's arm, changing color so 
 rapidly that he appeared to be ill. (< Your brother, " said 
 he, (( has been showing me how much I have distressed 
 you; he will now explain to you that I am not so much 
 to blame as you may suppose; and if you will take into 
 consideration the character of a soldier full of honor and 
 frankness, but who could not entertain the same ideas 
 with you upon the subject we have been discussing, you 
 will be indulgent and pardon me." 
 
 My brother then affectionately taking my hand, and 
 holding his other hand to Junot, said to me : (< Our 
 friend has been explaining to me that being the Com- 
 mandant of Paris, and invested with the confidence of 
 the First Consul, he objects to appearing in open day on 
 an occasion so solemn as his marriage, to perform in a
 
 316 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 church a sacred act of religion, because, on account of 
 his political position, it would make him a sort of a spec- 
 tacle to the whole town. You know me, my sister; you 
 know that my heart is devoted to you and to honor. 
 Well, after what he has said, I have engaged to persuade 
 you to comply with his wishes. The General does not 
 desire to wound any of your religious convictions; he 
 acknowledges that you are right in requiring the religious 
 ceremony, but he requests that it may take place at 
 night. I believe that this mutual concession will remove 
 all obstacles on both sides. B 
 
 I looked at my mother, and receiving a sign of appro- 
 bation from her, had nothing further to object except 
 my dislike to a nocturnal ceremony. It recalled those 
 days of terror when the bridal pair received by stealth 
 the benediction which the priest accorded at the risk of his 
 life. It was necessary, however, to be reasonable; and 
 I consented, as my mother and brother approved it, that 
 the ceremony should take place in the manner pro- 
 posed. 
 
 I afterward learned that this sudden opposition was 
 caused by the First Consul. This may appear extraordi- 
 nary to those who remember that two years afterward 
 he signed the Concordat; but all fruits do not ripen in 
 one season. He had just escaped from the dagger of a 
 man who accused him of attempting to overturn the in- 
 stitutions of Republicanism, and he was not willing that 
 the Commandant of Paris, known to possess his entire 
 confidence, should perform a public act which might point 
 to a new system of action on the part of his patron. He 
 therefore particularly required of Junot that he should 
 only go to church at night, supposing the family to insist 
 upon the religious ceremony. Junot, in his zeal to obey, 
 exceeded his instructions. His religious notions — hav- 
 ing passed his youth in an army where none such ex- 
 isted — were not those of incredulity, but of perfect in- 
 difference, and he had no suspicion of the effect his 
 proposition would have upon me; in the first instance, 
 then, he did not even speak of a nocturnal marriage, which 
 in fact supplied all the conditions absolutely required by 
 either party. 
 
 " At length, then," said my mother, when she had 
 heard me pronounce my consent, w this grand affair is
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 317 
 
 settled"; and turning to Junot, she added, <( It has been 
 all your fault. Who would ever have thought of coming 
 on the eve of the marriage to say ' I will have nothing 
 to do with the Church?* Come, fall on your knees, and 
 beg pardon of your betrothed. Right. Now give him 
 your hand, or rather your cheek, in recompense of that 
 graceful act of submission. It is the last; to-morrow he 
 will be your master. But what now, is it not all set- 
 tled? » 
 
 The fact was that this nocturnal ceremony, which did 
 not please me at all, had moreover the inconvenience 
 that it would be unaccompanied by a wedding mass; I 
 whispered this new objection to the General, and it was 
 presently removed by the promise that it should take 
 place at twelve o'clock, the hour of midnight mass. My 
 mother laughed on overhearing this discussion. <( And 
 now that we are all at length agreed, w said she, <c do me the 
 favor, Monsieur my son-in-law, to take your leave for 
 the present; I must show the young lady her trousseau, 
 and hear her opinion of my taste; we shall afterward both 
 sit in judgment upon yours. w 
 
 On entering the salon, though it was large, I found 
 myself much in the situation of Noah's dove, without a 
 place of rest for my foot. From an immense basket, or 
 rather portmanteau of rose-colored gros de Naples, em- 
 broidered with black chenille, made in the shape of a 
 sarcophagus bearing my cipher, an innumerable quantity 
 of small packets, tied with pink or blue favors, strewed 
 the room; these contained full-trimmed chemises with 
 embroidered sleeves, pocket handkerchiefs, petticoats, 
 morning gowns, dressing gowns of Indian muslin, night- 
 dresses, nightcaps, morningcaps of all colors and all 
 forms; the whole of these articles were embroidered, and 
 trimmed with Mechlin lace or English point. Another 
 portmanteau of equal size, of green silk embroidered in 
 orange chenille, contained my numerous dresses, all 
 worthy in fashion and taste to vie with the habiliments 
 already described. 
 
 This was an hour of magic for a girl of sixteen. Time 
 passes away; mature years have already arrived; old age 
 will follow; but never can the remembrance of my 
 mother as she now appeared be effaced from my mind. 
 How eagerly did she watch my eyes; and when the
 
 3 i 8 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 peculiar elegance and good taste of any article of her 
 own choice elicited my admiring exclamations, how did 
 her fine black eyes sparkle, and her smiling rosy lips 
 display the pearls they inclosed! Who can describe a 
 mother's joy on such an occasion, or the effect it pro- 
 duces on the heart of an affectionate daughter! Taking 
 my head between her two hands, and kissing my eyes, 
 my ears, my cheeks, my hair, she threw herself on a 
 settee, saying, a Come, now, matfiia mou* seek something 
 else that will please you. * 
 
 The trousseau being fully examined, the corbcille\ next 
 demanded inspection. At this time the custom of giving 
 a basket or case for the articles of the corbeille was not 
 yet exploded; fifty or sixty louis were spent upon a 
 species of basket covered with rich silk or velvet, and 
 highly ornamented, which stood for six or twelve months 
 on the dressing table of the bride, till, becoming tarnished 
 and worn, it was no longer ornamental, and was con- 
 signed to the lumber room, to be eaten by the rats in 
 spite of its finery. Now they do things with more sense, 
 and lay out the money upon a valuable chest of longer 
 duration. Mine, then, was an immensely large vase, 
 covered with green and white velvet, richly embroidered 
 with gold. Its foot was of gilded bronze ; its cover of 
 embroidered velvet, surmounted by a pineapple of black 
 velvet, transfixed by an arrow, from which were sus- 
 pended on each side a crown, the one of olives, the other 
 of laurel, both cut in bronzed gold. 
 
 This corbeille contained cashmere shawls, veils of Eng- 
 lish point, gown trimmings of blond and Brussels point, 
 dresses of white blond and black lace ; pieces of Indian 
 muslin and of Turkish velvet which the General had 
 brought from Egypt; ball dresses for a bride; my pre- 
 sentation dress, and Indian muslin dresses embroidered 
 in silver lama. Besides all these, there were flowers 
 bought of Madame Roux, of Lyons; ribbons of all sizes 
 and colors; bags (or as we now say, reticules), which 
 were then all the fashion, one of them of English point ; 
 
 * Greek words, meaning light of my eyes; a most caressing expres- 
 sion, which my mother habitually used toward me. 
 
 f Mademoiselle L'Olive, being dressmaker to Madame Bonaparte, 
 had been charged by Junot to prepare the corbeille, under the instruc- 
 tions of Madame Murat.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 319 
 
 gloves, fans, and essences. At each side of the corbeille 
 was a <( sultan, 8 or scented bag. 
 
 The first contained all the implements of the toilet 
 in gold enameled black; the apparatus of the work- 
 table — thimble, scissors, needlecase, bodkin, etc., all in 
 gold, set with fine pearls. The other (< sultan * con- 
 tained the jewel casket, and an opera glass of mother-of- 
 pearl and gold set with two rows of diamonds. The 
 casket contained settings for an entire suite of ornaments 
 without the stones; six ears of golden corn and a comb 
 (which, on account of the immense quantity of my hair, 
 was as large as those which are now worn), set with 
 diamonds and pearls; a square medallion set with large 
 pearls, containing a portrait of General Junot by Isabey, 
 for the resemblance of which the artist's name will vouch, 
 but of a size more fit to be affixed to the wall of a gal- 
 lery than to be suspended from the neck; but this was 
 the fashion of the day, and Madame Murat had one of 
 her husband, also painted by Isabey, and even larger 
 than mine. The casket contained also a number of superb 
 topazes brought from Egypt, of an incredible size, Ori- 
 ental eorals of extraordinary thickness, which I have 
 since had engraved in relief at Florence by M. Hamelin, 
 and several antique cameos; all these were unset. The 
 bridal purse of gold links, connected together by delicate 
 little stars of green enamel, the clasp also enameled 
 green, contained too weighty a sum of money had it 
 not consisted of bank notes,* except about fifty louis 
 in pretty little sequins of Venice. 
 
 All these elegant presents had been completed under 
 the direction of Madame Murat, and did infinite honor 
 to her taste. At this time such a corbeille was a treas- 
 ure of great rarity; for the first time since the Revolu- 
 tion it had reappeared at the marriage of Mademoiselle 
 de Doudeauville with M. Pierre de Rastignac. Madame 
 Murat's marriage followed after a considerable interval, 
 and her corbeille was very rich; but as mine took place 
 nearly a year later, not only was the corbeille more beau- 
 tiful, but it was composed with more conformity to an- 
 cient customs, and in a more refined taste. After this 
 
 * The Bank of France was established in the month of February, 
 1800; I think it opened the following month. The two purses were 
 made by Foncier, a very celebrated jeweler at that period.
 
 320 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUXOT 
 
 time the corbcille and trousseau again became common, 
 but were copies, not models, like Madame Murat's and 
 mine. 
 
 But of all these beautiful gifts, nothing delighted me 
 so much as Junot's affecting attention to my mother. 
 She longed for a cashmere shawl, but would never pur- 
 chase one, because she said she could not afford one so 
 good as she wished for; and I had determined that my 
 wedding gift to her should be a red one, because that 
 was the color she preferred, but I had never whispered 
 my intentions. However, together with my corbcille 
 came a small basket covered with white gros de Naples, 
 embroidered in silks with my mother's cipher on the 
 draperies, from which the first thing that presented it- 
 self was a superb scarlet cashmere shawl. The basket 
 contained, besides, a purse like mine, except that the 
 enamel was a deep blue, and within it, instead of money, 
 was a topaz of a perfect oval round, the size of a small 
 apricot; gloves, ribands, and two magnificent fans. I 
 cannot describe how I felt this amiable attention. 
 When I thanked the General for it with an effusion of 
 heart which I rather repressed than exaggerated, he re- 
 plied, (< I foresaw what you now express; and if I had 
 not loved her who is about to become my mother with 
 filial tenderness, I should have done what I have for the 
 pleasure I enjoy at this moment." 
 
 CHAPTER XLIII. 
 
 My Wedding Day — Sister Rosalie and My Confessor — Refusal to 
 Marry Me at Night — Scruples — The Vendean Abbe — The Clergy 
 and the Republican Party — L'Abbe Lusthier Patronized by Junot, 
 and Appointed Grand Vicar to the Bishop of Orleans — The Cure of 
 the Capuchins Engaged — Wedding Toilet — Family Assembled — 
 Junot's Aids-de-Camp, His Witnesses — The Dames de la Halle and 
 Their Bouquet — The Municipality and the Church. 
 
 On the 30th of October, at nine in the morning, 
 everything was in motion in our small house of the 
 Rue de Sainte Croix, and earlier still in the 
 Hotel de Rue Verneuil. At daybreak I had left home,
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 321 
 
 accompanied by Sister Rosalie (who on hearing of my 
 approaching marriage had quitted her retreat to be with 
 me), to go to my confessor: this ought to have been done 
 on the eve of my wedding. Having made my confes- 
 sion, I requested the Venerable Abbe\ my spiritual father, 
 to perform the religious ceremony of my marriage in 
 the Church of the Capuchins* at a quarter past twelve 
 at night; and great was my astonishment at receiving a 
 dry and peremptory refusal. 
 
 (< What reason, * said he emphatically, <( can General 
 Junot possibly have for refusing to make you his wife in 
 the light of the sun? What does he fear? Ridicule! 
 No! he has too much good sense for that. There must 
 be some cause of objection unknown to us. B I turned 
 pale; but the Abb£, in spite of all Sister Rosalie's 
 entreaties, proceeded : (< Who shall satisfy me, who am 
 the priest required to bless this marriage, that he is not 
 already the husband of another? & 
 
 (< Monsieur l'Abbe! Monsieur l'Abbe! B said Rosalie in 
 a voice of lively reproach, of which I should not have 
 conceived the good girl capable toward any ecclesiastic — 
 "Monsieur l'Abbe\ for Heaven's sake forbear! What are 
 you doing? B <( My duty! w replied he in a stern voice; 
 <( I perform that duty which nature and the laws impose 
 upon the guardians of this young girl, and which they 
 seem to have cast upon Providence. I then, as the min- 
 ister of God, of that same Providence, am bound to watch 
 over the interest of the fatherless orphan. }> 
 
 (< Monsieur l'Abbe, w said I, rising to go, <( my gratitude 
 to you is the same as if your charitable friendship had 
 saved me from a great danger; but it is my duty to 
 remind you that, whatever danger may threaten me, I 
 have a support, a protector, a father; and that M. de 
 Permon, my brother, who unites all those titles, enlight- 
 ened at once by his tenderness for me and his acute 
 penetration, is capable of judging whether I am deceived 
 by a man whose reputation for honor and loyalty stands 
 so high. I have already explained to you, sir, the reason 
 why he wishes to receive the nuptial benediction at night. w 
 
 <( The reason is injurious to you," said the Abbe", with 
 
 increasing anger. "Why should the Commandant of Paris 
 
 fear to show himself in uniform in one of the churches 
 
 * Now the Church of Saint Louis, in the Rue de Sainte Croix. 
 21
 
 3 22 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 which his General has just reopened ? He would not 
 manifest the same repugnance to exhibit himself to-mor- 
 row in the Temple of Victory, now called Sulpice, instead 
 of Saint Sulpice. M (This was, in fact, the denomination 
 now given to Saint Sulpice, and a fete was at this very 
 time announced to be held in the Temple of Victory 
 (Sulpice) in commemoration of our ancestors.) 
 
 (< Young lady, B continued the good man, (< do not as- 
 sume that air of displeasure ; it is neither becoming your 
 situation nor mine. Rather thank me for the solicitude 
 I feel for my spiritual child, for such you are, my 
 daughter; and it grieves me to think that you may be 
 deceived. Why should your civil marriage take place in 
 the Faubourg Saint Antoine ? Why are the banns not 
 published at the church? Why is a nocturnal celebration 
 demanded ? The ceremony before the Mayor will take 
 place by day ; but where ? at the extremity of Paris ! in 
 an obscure quarter, where, truly, a former Madame Junot 
 is not very likely to suspect that a successor is being 
 installed in her rights; all this has an ambiguous appear- 
 ance, and I shall not make myself a party to its execu- 
 tion. 8 
 
 It was equally vain to reason or petition; the Abbe* 
 Lusthier turned a deaf ear to all I could say, and I was 
 obliged to depart without the consolation of knowing 
 that the good father would sanction my marriage with 
 his presence; his blessing he gave me, and prayed that 
 his presentiments might prove unfounded. 
 
 I pressed upon him at my departure a purse contain- 
 ing a handsome sum of money, which my brother had 
 given me for that purpose. I knew that the Abbe" was 
 very poor, and almost destitute of necessaries; I saw in 
 the garret where he lived neither fire nor wood, and the 
 weather was already becoming cold; he, however, resisted 
 the offer repeatedly, and even with annoyance. I would 
 not listen to the refusal, but left the purse, saying that 
 what he could spare from his own comforts he might 
 distribute as my almoner. 
 
 Junot never heard of this scene till it was related to 
 him some years afterward with the greatest frankness, 
 by the Abbe* Lusthier himself, on occasion of his calling 
 to request my husband to obtain for him the living of 
 Virginie, a little village near Bievre. (< I hope your fears
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 323 
 
 on my account are now at an end," said Junot, smiling, 
 and offering his hand to him. <( I assure you, you have 
 no occasion to retain any; and to prove it I shall request 
 Citizen Portalis to appoint you to a different benefice 
 from the one you have solicited. I know from my wife 
 that your fortune does not correspond either with your 
 merit or your charity, and it is my duty, if possible, to 
 repair the injustice of fate; and I hope, at the same 
 time," added he, laughing, <( to prove that I am innocent; 
 for I would not silence by an obligation any person who 
 is entitled to reproach me." 
 
 The Abbe" Lusthier not only accepted General Junot's 
 offers, but attached himself unreservedly to him. Junot 
 obtained for him an excellent living in the diocese of my 
 uncle, the Bishop of Metz, and he was some time 
 afterward appointed Grand Vicar to his friend the Abbe" 
 Bernier, Bishop of Orleans. 
 
 But to recur to the interesting period from which this 
 episode has led me. On my return home I related all 
 that had passed, which excited my mother's displeasure.. 
 •I hope," said she, (< you did not leave him the purse." 
 I looked at her instead of answering. On meeting my 
 eyes she laughed, half angrily and half in jest, and said, 
 w So, I am a simpleton ! And you did leave him the 
 purse, did you not?" "Certainly," I replied, embracing 
 her. <( And you know very well that each piece of silver 
 which we have given the Abbe Lusthier will acquire the 
 value of gold in his hands." 
 
 Albert then went out to find the Cure" of the Church 
 of the Capuchins, gave him the necessary instructions, 
 and received his promise to be ready at five minutes 
 past midnight. 
 
 At nine o'clock in the morning my toilet was com- 
 menced in which I was to appear before the Mayor. 
 I wore an Indian muslin gown, with a train, high 
 body and long sleeves that buttoned at the wrist, and 
 which were then called amadis; the whole was trimmed 
 with magnificent point lace. My cap, made by Made- 
 moiselle Despaux, was of Brussels point, crowned with a 
 wreath of orange flowers, from which descended to my 
 feet a veil of fine English point, large enough to envelop 
 my person. This costume, which was adopted by all 
 young brides, differing only according to the degree of
 
 324 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 wealth of the parties, was in my opinion much more ele- 
 gant than the present bridal fashion. 
 
 I do not think that it is prejudice for the past which 
 makes me prefer my own wedding dress — that profusion 
 of rich lace, so fine and so delicate that it resembled a 
 vapory network, shading my countenance and playing 
 with the curls of my hair; those undulating folds of my 
 robe, which fell round my person with the inimitable 
 grace and suppleness of the superb tissues of India; that 
 long veil, which in part covered the form without con- 
 cealing it — to the robe of tulle of our modern brides, 
 made in the fashion of a ball dress, the shoulders and 
 bosom uncovered, and the petticoat short enough to per- 
 mit everyone to judge not only of the delicacy of the 
 little foot, but of the shape of the ankle and leg,* while 
 the head, dressed as for a ball, is scarcely covered by 
 a veil of stiff and massy tulle, the folds of which fall 
 without ease or grace around the lengthened waist and 
 shortened petticoat of the young bride ; no, this is not 
 elegance. 
 
 At eleven o'clock the General arrived, with the rest of 
 his family. His mother had preceded him by half an 
 hour. This excellent woman had seen me but twice ; but 
 she had made a correct estimate of the mutual tenderness 
 which subsisted between my mother and myself. Her 
 perfect goodness of heart and excellent judgment had 
 inspired the thought of placing herself between us at the 
 moment of a separation which she foresaw would be so 
 painful. Alas! she knew at that moment better than I 
 did what were my poor mother's feelings; and I was far 
 from understanding the full force of the words which, 
 with tears that could not be restrained, she addressed to 
 her, <( I will supply your place to her ! w 
 
 Andoche brought with him his father, his brother, 
 Madame Junot, his sister-in-law; Madame Maldan, his 
 
 * Prince Talleyrand began life by saying what are called <( witty 
 things. » Being one day present at the Tuileries, when several ladies 
 were to take an oath of fidelity to the Emperor on their new appoint- 
 ments, he particularly noticed the beautiful Madame de Marmier, who 
 wore remarkably short petticoats in order to show the delicacy of her 
 foot and ankle. Some one present asked Talleyrand what he thought of 
 the tout ensemble. (< I think, w said the witty minister, (< that her dress 
 is too short to take an oath of fidelity. w
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 325 
 
 youngest sister; and two of his aids-de-camp, of whom 
 General Lallemand, then a captain, has rendered his name 
 celebrated by the honor and fidelity of his conduct. He 
 was attached to the staff of General Junot in Egypt, 
 where he served in the fine regiment of chasseurs 
 of the General-in-Chief; Junot had a high esteem for 
 him. 
 
 The other officer was M. Bardin, son of an estimable 
 painter, and himself a very worthy man. He had wit, 
 wrote pretty verses with ease, drew admirably, and had 
 on this occasion laid all his talents under contribution 
 for the bridegroom's service. These two gentlemen were 
 the General's witnesses; mine were the Comte de Ville- 
 manzy, Peer of France, an intimate friend of my father, 
 and M. Lequien de Bois-Cressy; M. Brunetiere, who had 
 been my guardian, now acted as my father, together 
 with Albert and my uncle, Prince Demetrius Comnenus, 
 who had arrived two days previously from Munich. 
 
 When we set out for the Rue de Jouy, the Rue de 
 Sainte Croix near our house was filled with people, 
 mostly strangers in our quarter; and among them nearly 
 all the principal Marchandes de la Halle. Junot was 
 extremely considerate to the people of Paris, and was 
 very popular with them; and I am convinced that in a 
 commotion the mere sight of him would have restored 
 tranquillity; he was very open-handed to them, giving 
 alms very freely. He could, moreover, speak the language 
 of the Dames de la Halle admirably, when any occasion 
 arose. 
 
 Four of the group requested permission to pay their 
 compliments to me. It was granted, and they entered 
 the salon carrying each a bouquet, certainly larger than 
 myself, and composed of the finest and rarest flowers, 
 the price of which was greatly enhanced by the lateness 
 of the season. They offered them to me with no other 
 phrase than the following: « Mam'selle, you are about to 
 become the wife of our Commandant, and we are glad 
 of it, because you are said to be kind and good. 
 Will you permit us ? 8 And the women embraced me 
 heartily. 
 
 Junot ordered some refreshments for all those who had 
 been good enough, he said, to remember him on the 
 happiest day of his life. We set out for the municipality
 
 3-6 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 amid their loud acclamations and the repeated cries of 
 <( Long live the Bride and Bridegroom ! B 
 
 On arriving at the mayoralty of the Rue de Jouy, 
 Faubourg Saint Antoine, where it was Junot's whim to 
 be married — not, as the Abbe" Lusthier supposed, to be 
 less in sight, for in this case he would have contrived 
 his matters very ill, but to gratify a friend — we were 
 received and married by M. Duquesnoi, Mayor of this 
 arrondissanent. He spared us a long discourse, and onl)- 
 uttered a few well chosen words, which I have never 
 forgotten. 
 
 We returned to my mother's, and the day passed off 
 much as all similar days do. When the hour of mid- 
 night struck we crossed over to the church, and at one 
 by the clock of the Corps Legislatif I entered the Hotel 
 de Montesquieu to the sound of the most harmonious 
 music. 
 
 CHAPTER XL IV. 
 
 A Grand Dinner at My Mother's the Day after My Marriage — Junot's 
 Friends and the Rest of the Party: a Curious Assemblage — Their 
 Characters and Portraits — General Lannes, the Roland of the 
 A rmy — Duroc — Bessieres — Eugene Beauharnais — Rappi — Berthier 
 
 — Marmont, the Best Friend of Junot — Lavalette — His Marriage — 
 The Divorce — The Negro and the Canoness — Madame Lavalette's 
 Beauty and the Ravages of the Smallpox — The Bonaparte Family 
 
 — Madame Bacciochi in the Costume of a Literary Society of 
 Ladies. 
 
 All who had been connected with Junot in the Army 
 of Italy or the Army of Egypt had special claims 
 upon his friendship, and he was desirous of giving 
 a dinner the day after his marriage to eight or ten of 
 his brethren-in-arms. My mother, who was always anxious 
 to make him adopt what she called stylish habits, vainly 
 remonstrated about this defiance of etiquette, and said 
 that it would resemble a journeyman carpenter giving 
 his companions a treat on his wedding holiday. Junot 
 was firm, and my mother's only resource was to invite 
 his friends herself. 
 
 * But will they come to me without an introduction ? •
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 327 
 
 she inquired. Junot assured her that they would, and 
 invitations were sent to Bessieres, Lannes, Eugene Beau- 
 harnais, Rapp, and some others. Some of Junot's friends, 
 Beillard, Desgenettes, etc., were not yet returned from 
 Egypt ; but all those who were in Paris met at my mother's 
 table. 
 
 This dinner was extremely curious because it was a 
 reunion of all parties. My mother's friends sat down be- 
 side the whole family of Bonaparte, and the new guests 
 made a very interesting accession to the party. At this 
 time I knew none of the above-mentioned friends of Ju- 
 not; I had distinguished their names amid the acclama- 
 tions of the people, when news of some fresh triumphs 
 arrived; but I was acquainted with no generals except 
 Moreau, Macdonald, and Beurnonville, whom we had 
 frequently met at Madame Leclerc's. It afforded me then 
 great satisfaction to be introduced to those men who had 
 seconded Bonaparte, and had been to him at once good 
 comrades and good laborers in the erection of that edifice 
 of glory under which France now found an asylum from 
 her distractions. 
 
 General Lannes was also lately married. He had been 
 more rapid than Junot, and had been for three weeks 
 the husband of Mademoiselle Louise Gheneuc, a young 
 person of exquisite beauty. Lannes was then twenty- 
 eight years of age, five feet five or six inches high, 
 slender and elegant, his feet, legs and hands being re- 
 markable for their symmetry. His face was not hand- 
 some, but it was expressive; and when his voice uttered 
 one of those heroic thoughts which had acquired for him 
 the appellation of the Roland of the army, (< His eyes," 
 said Junot, (< which now appear so small, become im- 
 mense, and dart flashes of lightning." 
 
 Junot told me that he looked upon Lannes as, without 
 exception, the bravest man of the army, because his 
 courage, invariably the same, neither received accession 
 nor suffered diminution from any of those incidents 
 which usually influence military men. The same coolness 
 with which he re-entered his tent he carried into the 
 midst of the battle, the hottest fire, and the most difficult 
 emergencies. To this invaluable quality Junot consid- 
 ered him to add the most rapid coup d'ceil and con- 
 ception, and the most accurate judgment of any person
 
 328 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 he had ever met with, except the First Consul. He was 
 besides amiable, faithful in friendship, and a good patriot ; 
 he possessed a heart truly French — a heart of the best 
 days of the glorious Republic. 
 
 One curious trait in his character was the obstinacy 
 with which he refused to have his hair cut short. In 
 vain the First Consul begged, entreated him to cut it 
 off; he still retained a short and thick queue, full of 
 powder and pomatum. This whim nearly embroiled him 
 with Junot, notwithstanding their friendship, on account 
 of the latter having cropped the hair of the famous 
 division of Arras, and the fashion becoming general in 
 consequence throughout the whole army. 
 
 Duroc came next to Lannes in Junot's estimation, and 
 was a year younger; his person was about the same 
 stature, but with a superiority of manner and figure ; his 
 hair was black ; his nose, chin, and cheeks were too round 
 to admit of his features being at all striking, which even 
 cast a shade of indecision over his countenance; his eyes 
 were large and black, but set so high in his head that 
 they did not harmonize with his smile or any other ex- 
 pression, from which singular effect those who were not 
 partial to him averred that he was not frank; but I, who 
 was his intimate friend, who knew his character perhaps 
 better than any other person, can affirm that it was all 
 openness and goodness. 
 
 Our friendship, which commenced in 1801, and closed 
 only with his life, was almost that of a brother and sis- 
 ter. Peculiar circumstances made me his confidante, at 
 first against his will, but afterward with his entire 
 acquiescence, in a case which influenced the happiness 
 of his life, and which turned out unfortunate. Numer- 
 ous letters from him, which I still possess, written from 
 all countries, certify that it was long ere he recovered 
 his equanimity, and still longer before he could pardon 
 those who, with one stroke, had given a mortal wound 
 to his moral and political existence. 
 
 Bonaparte, who was a good judge of men, distinguished 
 him from his companions, and sent him to execute diffi- 
 cult missions in foreign courts; this showed that he 
 understood Duroc's capabilities.* I have a letter of his, 
 
 * This is not the place to allude to future events, but I cannot forbear 
 remarking that I shall have frequent occasion to show that, far from
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 329 
 
 dated from St. Petersburg in 1802, in which he mentions 
 the too flattering estimation he was there held in; the 
 Emperor Alexander, when he visited me in 181 4, spoke 
 of many persons whom Napoleon had sent to him, and 
 his opinion of Duroc was still the same as it had been 
 described twelve years before. 
 
 Bessieres, at that time a colonel, was among Junot's 
 intimate friends. I always deplored the cessation of this 
 intimacy, for the most futile and ridiculous cause im- 
 aginable ; and being frequently called upon to judge be- 
 tween them, I must confess that I could not always 
 think Junot in the right. Bessieres, who was about the 
 same age, was a stouter man than Lannes; like him, he 
 was from the South, as the accent of both sufficiently 
 testified; and like him he had a mania for powder, but 
 with a striking difference in the cut of his hair — a small 
 lock at each side projected like little dog's ears, and his 
 long and thin Prussian queue supplied the place of the 
 Cadogan of Lannes. He had good teeth, a slight cast in 
 the eye, but not to a disagreeable extent; and a rather 
 prepossessing address. He was then colonel of the 
 Guides — that is to say, of the Chasseurs a cheval of the 
 Consular Guard — jointly with Eugene Beauharnais. 
 
 Eugene was still but a child; but already giving promise 
 of being, what he afterward became, a most charming 
 and amiable young man. With the exception of his 
 teeth, which, like his mother's, were frightful, his per- 
 son was perfectly attractive and elegant. Frankness and 
 hilarity pervaded all his actions; he laughed like a child, 
 but never in bad taste. He was good-natured, gracious, 
 polite, without being obsequious, and a mimic without 
 being impertinent, which is a rare talent. 
 
 He performed well in comedy, sang a good song, and 
 danced like his father, who had derived a surname from 
 his excellence in this art; in short, he was a truly agree- 
 able young man. He made a conquest of my mother, 
 whom he wished to please, and completely succeeded. 
 Beauharnais, the father, who was called the beau danseur, 
 though well born, was not of a rank to ride in the 
 King's carriages; and Josephine, his wife, was never 
 
 being ungrateful toward Bonaparte, as M. de Bourrienne has incon- 
 siderately asserted, Duroc was always among the most devoted of his 
 adherents.
 
 330 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 presented. He alone was invited on account of his danc- 
 ing - , and frequently had the honor of being- the Queen's 
 partner. 
 
 Rapp was then what he continued to be twenty years 
 later, with the exception of a few additional wounds. It 
 is true he had in vain passed through all the forms of 
 courts, French and foreign, but with manners the most 
 rough, ungraceful, and awkward that ever belonged to a 
 man of the world. But if in courts he never lost his 
 rude uncultivated exterior, so also he preserved pure and 
 intact a disinterested soul and virtuous heart. Rapp was 
 always esteemed and loved, because he deserved to be so. 
 
 Berthier was one of Junot's friends with whom I had 
 the greatest desire to become acquainted. I had seen him 
 frequently at Madame Visconti's; he was small and ill- 
 shaped, without being deformed; his head was too large 
 for his body ; his hair, neither light nor dark, was rather 
 frizzed than curled; his forehead, eyes, nose and chin 
 each in the proper place, were, however, by no means 
 handsome in the aggregate. His hands, naturally ugly, 
 became frightful by a habit of biting his nails; add to 
 this, that he stammered much in speaking, and that if 
 he did not make grimaces, the agitation of his features 
 was so rapid as to occasion some amusement to those 
 who witnessed it. He was the plainest of the three 
 brothers ; Caesar was better looking than he, and Leopold 
 still better than Caesar. Madame O'Ogeranville, their 
 sister, resembled mostly Alexander. Berthier not only 
 loved Napoleon, but he was greatly attached to several 
 of his brother officers ; and often braved the ill-humor of 
 the Emperor, in speaking to him of such of his friends 
 as had committed faults. Berthier was good in every 
 acceptation of the word. 
 
 <( The best and dearest of my friends, w said Junot, after 
 having presented his comrades separately to me, c< is 
 still in Italy; Marmont will soon return with his wife, 
 to whom I shall introduce you, and whose friendship I 
 hope you will obtain, giving yours in return; he is a 
 brother to me." 
 
 M. de Lavalette, another of my mother's guests on that 
 day, was no bad representation of Bacchus: a lady might 
 have been proud of his pretty little white hand and pink 
 well-turned nails; his two little eyes, and immoderately
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 331 
 
 little nose, placed in the midst of a fat pair of cheeks, 
 gave to his countenance a truly comic expression, in aid 
 of which came the extraordinary arrangement of his head ; 
 not the locks only, but the individual hairs might be 
 counted, and they received distinguishing names from the 
 wits of the staff — as "the invincible, w (< the redoubtable,* 
 (< the courageous w ; and one in particular, which defied the 
 discipline of the comb or the hand, and pertinaciously 
 stood upright, they called (< the indomitable. }> 
 
 Notwithstanding this personal appearance, and an ad- 
 dress almost burlesque, Lavalette knew how to impose 
 respect, and never suffered merriment to take unwar- 
 ranted liberties with him. He had sense and wit; had 
 seen much and retained much; had related multitudes of 
 anecdotes with remarkable grace, resulting from a cast 
 of ideas at once quiet, brilliant, and acute. M. de Lava- 
 lette was not, however, a superior man ; the horrible and 
 infamous prosecution of which he was the object has 
 placed him on an eminence which he would never other- 
 wise have attained; but he had the essential qualities of 
 a good father, a good husband, and a faithful friend. 
 
 He married, a few days before his departure for Egypt, 
 Mademoiselle Emilie de Beauharnais, daughter of the 
 Marquis de Beauharnais, brother-in-law of Madame Bona- 
 parte. This young lady — of extreme beauty, gentle, 
 and, thanks to Madame Bonaparte, her aunt, very well 
 educated — had considerable difficulty in marrying, on 
 account of the position of her parents. Her father ob- 
 tained a divorce from his wife that he might marry a 
 German canoness; and her mother married at the same 
 time a negro. The poor abandoned child was fortunate 
 in having attracted the affections of such a man as Lava- 
 lette, which she warmly returned. 
 
 Her husband, however, had not reached Egypt before 
 the bride took the smallpox, and scarcely escaping with 
 her life, lost her beauty. She was in despair, and 
 though by degrees the marks of the pustules became less 
 evident; though her figure was still fine, her complexion 
 dazzling, her teeth good, and her countenance pleasing, 
 she could not reconcile herself to the change of which 
 both before and after his return she felt conscious that 
 her husband must be sensible. The delicacy of his con- 
 duct never gave her reason for a moment to suppose that
 
 332 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUXOT 
 
 his attachment was in any way diminished; but her sighs 
 and tears, her profound melancholy, and weariness of 
 life, showed that she could not overcome her own 
 apprehensions ; the excellent Lavalette had but one wish, 
 and that was that his wife should be happy. 
 
 Lucien, Minister of the Interior, could not be at my 
 wedding- dinner, but Madame Murat, though about to lie 
 in, made an effort to join us. Madame Leclerc was in 
 the height of her beauty. Madame Bacciochi was dressed 
 on the occasion with a degree of eccentricity which even 
 now is fresh to my mind. She had presided in the morn- 
 ing over a female literary society; and proposing to 
 establish a peculiar costume for the associates, she con- 
 sidered the readiest way to effect her purpose was to 
 have a pattern made and appear in it herself, and in 
 this new dress she afterward came to my mother; such 
 a medley of the Jewish, Roman, Middle Age, and modern 
 Greek costumes — of everything, in short, except French 
 good taste — was, I think, never seen. 
 
 To see. Madame Bacciochi thus attired was not surpris- 
 ing, because we were accustomed to her singularities; 
 but it was impossible to resist the ludicrous impression 
 she created by declaring her intention of offering such a 
 dress to the adoption of all good Christians. 
 
 CHAPTER XLV. 
 
 Rapp and M. de Caulaincourt — Tragi-comic Scene — M. de Caulain- 
 court's Tribulation — The Duel Prevented, and the Reconciliation 
 — General Lannes — Military Manners — Powdered (Queues, and 
 Singular Prepossession — Colonel Bessieres and General Augereau. 
 
 Mde Caulaincourt had known Rapp at the Tuil- 
 eries, and it was not without surprise that he 
 recognized him in our society. Approaching me 
 he asked, in an undertone, whether <( that great boy * 
 (pointing out Rapp) had paid his visit to my mother. I 
 answered in the negative. <( Then at least he has left 
 his card ? }> " No. * * But, my dear child, it is not possi- 
 ble ; you must have been so absorbed in admiration of 
 your corbeille as not to have seen him. It is not credible
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 333 
 
 that a man should come and sit down in the house of a 
 woman of good society, and eat at her table, without 
 having first been introduced, and paid his respects to 
 her.» 
 
 As he was proceeding in a very animated tone, Rapp 
 crept softly behind him, then hallooed into his ear: 
 <( What are you talking of, dear papa ? Please to move out 
 of my way, on a wedding day, you know, the old must 
 give way to the young. B And so saying, he threw his 
 arms round the old gentleman's waist, lifted him gently 
 from the ground, and set him down at a little distance. 
 
 M. de Caulaincourt's good nature made him generally 
 beloved, but under it was concealed a strength of char- 
 acter known only to those who were much in his society; 
 and such a circumstance as the present was calculated to 
 show him off as a high-bred French gentleman in the 
 true acceptation of the word. Looking at Rapp with an 
 expression of dignified severity, he said: 
 
 <( Colonel, you and I are neither old enough nor young 
 enough for such play. w Then bowing coldly to him, he 
 offered me his arm, saying: <( Will you come and see 
 what is passing in the next room ? * 
 
 The worthy man was agitated. I led him through my 
 mother's room, which was filled with company, and made 
 him sit down in mine, which my mother had converted 
 into a second boudoir. Junot was surprised soon after 
 to find me consoling my old friend, to whom I was 
 endeavoring to represent that the matter did not deserve 
 the serious turn he was disposed to give it. I repeated 
 the whole to Junot, who, in spite of the old gentleman's 
 opposition — for M. de Caulaincourt would by no means 
 permit that he should seek apologies for him — went to 
 remonstrate with Rapp, and in five minutes brought him 
 to us, ready to fall on his knees to entreat pardon for 
 the brutalities which Junot had assured him he had 
 committed. <( And Junot tells me also," he added, turning 
 to me, (< that I have failed in respect to you in acting so 
 rudely in your presence. I might, however, absolutely 
 refuse to beg pardon, because apologies are only neces- 
 sary when one has done wrong intentionally, and certainly 
 I did not intend to offend. * 
 
 It was impossible to forbear laughing at this quaint 
 ^excuse, and M. de Caulaincourt, frankly holding out his
 
 334 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 hand, said to him : <( You are a good fellow, and I shall 
 be happy to become one of your friends. w Rapp pressed 
 the old gentleman's hand with a very pretty little hand 
 of his own, not at all consistent with his massive figure; 
 and here ended an affair from which my friend's high 
 feelings of honor had threatened nothing less than a 
 duel, except that my mother was so offended with Rapp 
 that she scarcely ever spoke politely to him afterward. 
 
 M. de Caulaincourt, dining at our house some days 
 afterward, requested an introduction to Lannes, who, of 
 all the Republican generals, was the one who pleased 
 him best. I passed my arm through his, and led him to 
 the other end of the salon, where Lannes was conversing 
 with Junot. (< General, * said I, <( permit me to present 
 to you M. de Caulaincourt, an ancient and distinguished 
 general officer, who wishes to be acquainted with you." 
 
 The pleasing countenance of Lannes was immediately 
 lighted up with a cordial smile, and, shaking him by the 
 hand, he said: "Ah, my old friend! I like the ancients; 
 there is always something to be learned from them. To 
 what branch of the service did you belong? Were you 
 biped or quadruped? Or — ah, Diable ! I believe you are 
 at present attached to the Royal Phlegmatics. w * The 
 fact was that, astonished at Lannes's reception, and the 
 rolling artillery which at that time made a copious part 
 of his vocabulary, M. de Caulaincourt had been seized 
 with a severe fit of coughing which he could not stifle. 
 
 <( Ah, what is the matter ? * said the General, patting 
 him upon the back as we do a choking child. (< Why, 
 this is an infirmity that requires reform, Junot; you must 
 make Lassalle enroll him. w Lassalle then commanded 
 the veterans of the garrison of Paris, but was no rela- 
 tion to the famous General of the same name. The good old 
 gentleman scarcely knew whether to laugh or to be 
 angry. 
 
 Meanwhile Junot whispered a word to the General, 
 who, suddenly changing his tone, said with an expres- 
 sion almost respectful : (< What, are you the father of 
 those two brave young men, one of whom, notwithstand- 
 ing his early age, is Colonel of a regiment of Carabi- 
 neers ? Then you must be brave yourself! You have 
 
 *The expression « royal-piluite n is much more ridiculous in French 
 than it can possibly be rendered in our language.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 335 
 
 educated them for the country, and you have not, like 
 too many of your class, sold them to foreigners. You 
 must be a good man; I must embrace you. And so 
 saying, he threw his arms round him, and embraced him 
 heartily. 
 
 We left the two comrades to resume the conversation 
 we had interrupted, and went to rejoin my mother in an 
 adjoining salon. a How do you like General Lannes? " 
 said I. (< Oh ! very well ! very well. But I expected quite 
 a different kind of man: for example, he swears like a 
 galley-slave; it makes one tremble. To be sure, he may 
 be a good soldier and a brave man for all that. " (< And 
 what more could you expect in General Lannes than a 
 soldier distinguished by his valor and his skill in beat- 
 ing the enemy? " <( Why, my dear child, what could I 
 think ! It was the fashion of dressing his hair that de- 
 ceived me. I thought that if a man knew how to dress 
 himself he must have something of the manners of other 
 times; how could I think otherwise?" 
 
 This naive confession stupefied me. <( Is it possible, 
 then," said I, <( that you have judged a man only by his 
 queue ? You were very unfortunate in not having en- 
 countered General Augereau, in whom you would have 
 found yourself much more mistaken." At this moment 
 a great man passed us, and saluted me with a bow of 
 respect which is only to be met with in well-brought-up 
 persons. <( And who is that?" said M. de Caulaincourt ; 
 (c he is powdered too, I think." <( It is Colonel Bessieres; 
 shall I introduce him to you, papa?" <( No, no," said he 
 hastily ; (< I have had enough of introductions for to-day ! " 
 
 It was in vain I assured him that Bessieres left his 
 bad language in the barracks; he felt no inclination for 
 the experiment; but when some time afterward he met 
 General Augereau he remembered my words, and had an 
 opportunity of proving their truth. That General sur- 
 passed even himself in swearing, and my poor friend, in 
 relating the conversation he had had with General Fruc- 
 tidor, as he called him, could not find words to express 
 the astonishment he felt at the language he had heard.
 
 336 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 CHAPTER XL VI. 
 
 My Presentation to the First Consul and Madame Bonaparte — Duroc 
 and Rapp on the Steps — Eleven o'clock — Politeness of Eugene de 
 Beauharnais — Gracious Reception by Madame Bonaparte — Amia- 
 bility of Hortense — Conversation with the First Consul — Bonaparte's 
 Opinion of Mirabeau — The Rogue and the Tribunes — M. de Cobent- 
 zel and Singular Reserve of Bonaparte — Bonaparte upon the Society 
 of the Faubourg Saint Germain — Portrait of Mademoiselle de Beau- 
 harnais. 
 
 My presentation to the First Consul and Madame 
 Bonaparte was a great affair for my mother; she 
 occupied herself upon my toilet with more minute 
 care than I imagine she had ever bestowed upon her own 
 in the highest tide of her vanity. One thing disturbed 
 her much, no ceremonial. a Nevertheless, he acts the 
 King," said my mother. The truth was that at this time 
 the interior of the First Consul's family was like that of 
 a very rich man, with no more etiquette; Madame Bona- 
 parte had not even yet ladies in waiting. 
 
 We went to the Tuileries after the Opera, leaving the 
 ballet of "Psych?" in the middle that we might not be too 
 late, and arrived at ten o'clock. My heart beat as we 
 alighted at the Pavilion of Flora, at the door which pre- 
 cedes that in the angle so long called the entrance of 
 the Empress. As we ascended the five or six steps be- 
 fore the door on the left, leading to the apartments on 
 the ground floor, we met Duroc and Rapp. (< How late 
 you are!" said Duroc. <( It is near eleven o'clock." 
 "Ah!" added the brave Alsatian, "Madame Junot is a 
 worker of marvels; she is about to make an infidel of 
 of our good Junot." And he burst into a loud laugh. 
 
 I was desirous of turning back; but Junot replied, 
 (< Madame Bonaparte desired me to come here after the 
 Opera." <( Oh!" said Duroc; (< it is quite a different thing 
 if Madame Bonaparte has appointed the hour." 
 
 At this moment the folding door of Madame Bona- 
 parte's apartment opened, and Eugene de Beauharnais 
 ran down. He was sent by his mother, because, having 
 heard the wheels of a carriage within the Court, and 
 finding that no one came up, she began to fear lest by
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 337 
 
 mistake, arising from the lateness of the hour, I might 
 be told that she could not receive me. 
 
 I was sensible of this attention, and the more so as 
 the messenger was himself very fit to dispel apprehen- 
 sions of a doubtful reception. M. de Beauharnais gave 
 me his arm, and we entered the large salon together. 
 This fine apartment was so obscure that at first entering 
 I saw no one in it; for it was lighted only by two 
 chandeliers placed on the mantelpiece, and surrounded 
 with gauze to soften the glare. I was very nervous on 
 entering; but an observation from Eugene de Beauharnais 
 contributed wonderfully to restore my composure. 
 
 <( You have nothing to fear, w said he ; <( my mother and 
 sister are so kind ! w These words made me start ; no 
 doubt I might experience that emotion which a young 
 woman is so liable to feel at a first presentation to 
 strangers, especially when she has some reason to imag- 
 ine that she may not be very cordially received; but my 
 spirits recovered surprisingly. 
 
 Madame Bonaparte was in the same place which she 
 then occupied as mistress of the house, and where after- 
 ward she was seated as sovereign of the world; I found 
 her before a tapestry frame prosecuting a work, three- 
 fourths of which was performed by Mademoiselle Dubu- 
 quoy, whose ingenious hint that Marie Antoinette was 
 fond of such employments had inspired Josephine's in- 
 clination for them. At the other side of the chimney 
 sat Mademoiselle Hortense de Beauharnais, an amiable, 
 mild, agreeable girl, with the figure of a nymph and 
 beautiful light hair. Her gracious manners and gentle 
 words were irresistibly pleasing. 
 
 The First Consul was standing before the chimney 
 with his hands behind him, fidgeting as he had already 
 the habit of doing; his eyes were fixed upon me, and as 
 soon as I recovered my self-possession I found that he 
 was closely examining me; but from that moment I de- 
 termined not to be abashed, as to allow myself to be 
 overcome by fantastic fears with such a man would be 
 ruin. 
 
 Madame Bonaparte stood up, came forward, took my 
 two hands and embraced me, saying that I might de- 
 pend upon her friendship. (< I have been too long Junot's 
 friend, B she continued, <( not to entertain the same sen-
 
 338 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 timents for his wife, particularly for the one he has 
 chosen. w <( Oh, oh! Josephine, M said the First Consul, 
 <( that is running on very fast! How do you know that 
 this little pickle is worth loving ? Well, Mademoiselle 
 Loulou (you see I do not forget the names of my old 
 friends), have you not a word for me? 
 
 He had taken my hand, and, drawing me toward him, 
 looked at me with a scrutiny which for a moment made 
 me cast down my eyes, but I recollected myself immedi- 
 ately. <( General, w I replied, smiling, <( it is not for me 
 to speak first. B The slight contraction of his brow would 
 have been imperceptible to any other person, but I knew 
 his countenance well: he smiled almost instantly, and 
 said, w Very well parried. Oh, the mother's spirit. 
 Apropos, how is Madame Permon ? B (< She suffers much ; 
 for two years past her health has altered so seriously as 
 to cause us great uneasiness. B <( Indeed ! so bad as that ; 
 I am sorry to hear it, very sorry; make my regards to 
 her. It is a wrong head — a devil of a spirit;* but she 
 has a generous heart and a noble soul. w 
 
 I withdrew my hand, which he had held during this 
 short colloquy, and took my seat near Madame Bonaparte. 
 The conversation became general and very agreeable. 
 Duroc came in, and took part in it. Madame Bonaparte 
 said little on subjects she did not understand, and 
 thereby avoided exposing her ignorance. Her daughter, 
 without saying more than is becoming in a young girl, 
 had the talent of sustaining the conversation on agree- 
 able topics. 
 
 M. de Cobentzel was expected at Paris, and his arrival 
 was spoken of. Madame Bonaparte said that she had 
 heard some one observe upon the astonishing resemblance 
 between Count Louis de Cobentzel and Mirabeau. <( Who 
 said that ? * asked the First Consul hastily. (< I do not 
 exactly recollect. Barras, I think. B w And where had 
 Barras seen M. de Cobentzel? Mirabeau! he was ugly; 
 M. de Cobentzel is ugly — there is all the resemblance. 
 Eh, pardicu! you know him, Junot; you were with him 
 at our famous treaty, and Duroc, too. But you never 
 saw Mirabeau. He was a rogue, but a clever rogue! he 
 
 *I have already said that I shall preserve the turn of Napoleon's 
 phrases and his manner of speaking; it was original, and at once 
 Oriental and bourgeoise.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 339 
 
 himself did more mischief to the former masters of this 
 house than the States-General altogether. But he was a 
 rogue." Here he took a pinch of snuff, repeating, <( He 
 was a bad man, and too vicious to be tribune of the 
 people ; not but in my tribunate there were some no 
 better than he, and without half his talent. As for 
 Count Louis de Cobentzel M 
 
 He took another pinch of snuff, and was about to re- 
 sume his observations, but stopped as if struck by a 
 sudden reflection. He thought, perhaps, that the first 
 magistrate of the Republic should not so lightly give his 
 opinion upon a man just named by a great Power to treat 
 with him. He stopped then with a sentence half uttered, 
 and, turning to me, said: 
 
 <( I hope that we shall often see you, Madame Junot. 
 My intention is to draw round me a numerous family, 
 consisting of my generals and their young wives. They 
 will be friends of my wife and of Hortense, as their 
 husbands are mine. Does that suit you? I warn you 
 that you will be disappointed if you expect to find here 
 your fine acquaintances, of the Faubourg Saint Germain. 
 I do not like them. They are my enemies, and prove 
 it by defaming me. Tell them from me, as your mother 
 lives among them — tell them that I am not afraid of 
 them." 
 
 This sentence, spoken with harshness, gave me uneasi- 
 ness from two causes: it was disobliging both to Junot 
 and to me; it seemed to reproach him for taking a wife 
 from a hostile society, and to hint that I came into his 
 own with unfriendly disposition. I could not forbear 
 answering, perhaps hastily: 
 
 <c General, excuse me if I cannot consent to do what 
 is not in the province of a woman, and particularly in 
 that of General Junot's wife; and permit me to carry 
 from you to my friends only messages of peace and 
 union; I know that they desire no others." 
 
 I would not interrupt the relation of this interesting 
 interview to describe the person and manners of Ma- 
 demoiselle de Beauharnais, but I think it would be an 
 injustice both to her and my readers to omit to describe 
 her as she appeared at my first introduction to her. 
 Hortense de Beauharnais was at this time seventeen 
 years old; she was fresh as a rose, and though her
 
 34o MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 fair complexion was not relieved by much color, she 
 had enough to produce that freshness and bloom which 
 was her chief beauty ; a profusion of light hair played 
 in silky locks round her soft and penetrating blue eyes. 
 The delicate roundness of her figure, slender as a palm 
 tree, was set off by the elegant carriage of her head; her 
 feet were small and pretty; her hands very white, with 
 pink, well-rounded nails. 
 
 But what formed the chief attraction of Hortense was 
 the grace and suavity of her manners, which united the 
 Creole languor with the vivacity of France. She was 
 gay, gentle, and amiable ; she had wit, which, without 
 the smallest ill-temper, had just malice enough to be 
 amusing. A careful education had improved her natural 
 talents; she drew excellently, sang harmoniously, and 
 performed admirably in comedy. In 1800 she was a 
 charming young girl; she afterward became one of the 
 most amiable princesses of Europe. I have seen many, 
 both in their own courts and in Paris, but I never knew 
 one who had any pretensions to equal talent. 
 
 She was beloved by everyone, though, of all who sur- 
 rounded her, her mother seemed to be the least conscious 
 of her attractions. I do not mean to say that she did 
 not love her, but certainly she did not express that 
 degree of maternal affection which Hortense de Beau- 
 harnais merited. Her brother loved her tenderly: the 
 First Consul looked upon her as his child; and it was 
 only in that country so fertile in the inventions of scan- 
 dal that so foolish an accusation could have been imag- 
 ined, as that any feeling less pure than paternal affection 
 actuated his conduct toward her. The vile calumny 
 met with the contempt it merited, and is now only re- 
 membered to be confuted.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 34 1 
 
 CHAPTER XLVII. 
 
 The Wedding Ball — List of Guests — Swearing — Invitation to the 
 First Consul — His Visiting Cards — Diplomatic Breakfast — Visit to 
 the .Tuileries, and Invitation to Madame Bonaparte — The Monaco 
 and Les Deux Coqs — The First Consul's Closet — Charm of His 
 Physiognomy — The First Consul Accepts an Invitation to the Ball — 
 The First Anniversary of the iSth of Brumaire, and the Ball Deferred 
 — M. de Caulaincourt's Indiscretion. 
 
 My mother had determined to give a ball on the 
 fifteenth day after my marriage ; it was an ancient 
 custom, and though not now the fashion, she 
 would by no means forego it. One evening when we 
 had dined with her, she required our assistance in arrang- 
 ing her plans: <( For this ball,* said she, (< must be one 
 of the prettiest that has been given this long time past; 
 my house, it is true, is very small, but it must be 
 turned into an enchanted parterre of flowers. Come, 
 take your place at the desk, Madame Laurette, and make 
 out our list of invitations, for all your husband's friends 
 must be of the party." Junot thanked her, and kissed 
 her hand. 
 
 (< Oh ! surely, * she replied, <( your friends are my 
 friends now, only they swear rather too much; and you, 
 I have been told, can do so, too, when you are angry. 
 You must leave off that ugly habit; it does not become 
 a gentleman.* Junot laughed, and held up his finger to 
 me. (< What, because she tells me that you swear ? * 
 said my mother. <( No, I hope she will never cease to 
 pour all her confidence into my maternal ear; besides, 
 remember, she has not yet made acquaintance enough 
 with your ear for it to supplant mine; but come, to 
 work. * 
 
 Junot took the pen, and wrote down all the names of 
 the ladies, beginning with Madame Bonaparte and Made- 
 moiselle de Beauharnais. He then waited for the name 
 with which my mother would commence the list of gen- 
 tlemen. 
 
 "The First Consul of the French Republic, One and 
 Indivisible ; is not that the style ? * said my mother. 
 (< The First Consul ! * we exclaimed together. <( Yes, the
 
 342 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 First Consul ; is there anything- astonishing in that ? I 
 am tired of being on bad terms with anyone, and besides 
 
 8 "And besides, " said Junot, laughing, "you think 
 
 that perhaps you were more in the wrong than he." 
 
 <( No, no," said my mother; "that is quite another 
 affair. He was in the wrong altogether; but I considered 
 that, as Laurette might be daily in his society, this 
 sort of quarrels might produce disagreeable effects for 
 her, and I wished to prevent that — was I not right?" 
 We embraced her. " But the invitation, " she added, " is 
 not all. Do you think he will accept it ? do you think 
 he will come ? " "I am sure of it ; only name the hour 
 that will suit you best, and I will come to fetch you," 
 said Junot, enchanted at this prospect of reconciliation 
 between his mother-in-law and his beloved General. 
 
 My mother looked at him with an air of astonishment 
 perfectly laughable. " Fetch me ! to go where ? " 
 " Where ! " returned Junot, as much surprised in his 
 turn; (< to the Tuileries, to tender your invitation to the 
 First Consul and Madame Bonaparte." " My dear Junot," 
 said my mother, with the utmost seriousness and sang- 
 froid, " you are quite, nay, perfectly mad. " (C It seems 
 to me that what I say is, nevertheless, very sensible ; 
 that nothing, in fact, can be more reasonable," replied 
 Junot, somewhat disconcerted by the apostrophe. "And 
 I tell you, you are mad. Would you have me go to re- 
 quest General Bonaparte to come again to my house, 
 after having forbidden his appearance there ? " 
 
 <( How, then, do you propose to invite him ? " asked 
 Junot, with an accent impossible to describe. " Truly, 
 how should I invite him ? Precisely in the same manner 
 as I do everyone else, except that the card shall be all 
 in writing, and I will write it all in my own neat hand, 
 which he knows perfectly well." 
 
 Junot strode up and down the room, exclaiming, <( But 
 that cannot be! You had better not invite him at all! 
 He will think that you intend him a disrespect. " <( He 
 would be much mistaken, then. But he would think no 
 such thing; and you will see that, after having received 
 my note of invitation, he will do as all well-bred men 
 would; he will call on me before the ball, or at least he 
 will have a card left at the door. " c< Do you think, 
 then," said Junot, in the utmost surprise, "that he keeps
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 343 
 
 visiting cards ? » (< And why not ? My dear child, be- 
 cause Bonaparte gains battles, is that any reason that 
 he should not visit ? }> 
 
 For a long time my inclination to laugh had been sup- 
 pressed with the utmost difficulty; Albert, throwing him- 
 self back in his armchair, had given way to his from 
 the first; and this last observation, together with the 
 stupefied astonishment of Junot, who, with his mouth 
 half open, could not find words to answer, was altogether 
 too much for my gravity, and I burst into one of those 
 fits of wild mirth which one only enjoys at sixteen. My 
 mother and Junot were still no less serious, my mother 
 at intervals murmuring, (< I do not see why he should 
 not visit, and certainly I shall not go first." 
 
 My brother and I became by degrees more reasonable, 
 seeing that she was perfectly in earnest, and certainly 
 intended that the First Consul should come first to her. 
 Now, it is true that not even a thought of royalty was 
 yet attached to his name, but already for twelve months 
 he had exercised the supreme authority of the State ; and 
 this power had placed him on an elevation which ap- 
 peared quite natural and becoming to him; he was there 
 because it was his proper place. 
 
 Albert knew my mother's character, and that by further 
 opposition we should irritate without persuading her; 
 he therefore sat down to the desk, and requested her to 
 dictate her list, which she did with as much self-pos- 
 session and composure as if the First Consul had never 
 existed. The list consisted of seventy men and forty 
 ladies — a large number for so small a house; but then, 
 as now, it was a pleasure to be crowded, and the great- 
 est approbation that could be expressed the day after 
 a ball was, <( What a charming fete! we were almost 
 suffocated! * 
 
 The next morning Albert breakfasted with us, and it 
 was resolved in our little council that we should all 
 three proceed immediately to the Tuileries, and, in my 
 mother's name, make our personal request to the First 
 Consul and Madame Bonaparte to honor with their pres- 
 ence the ball my family were to give on the occasion 
 of my marriage, taking good care to say nothing of the 
 written invitations which had been intrusted to me for 
 delivery.
 
 344 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 Madame Bonaparte received us in the most gracious 
 manner; it was in such cases that she appeared to the 
 utmost advantage. She had already gone through all 
 that a royal novitiate demanded, and it can scarcely 
 be imagined with what ease she stepped into the station 
 of Queen. She accepted our invitation for herself and 
 Mademoiselle de Beauharnais; the latter, she said, was 
 absent from the Tuileries. She seemed, however, by no 
 means willing that we should extend our invitation to 
 the First Consul. (< He has been," she said, c< but to two 
 fetes since his entry upon the Consulate — the one at 
 Morfontaine, where policy led him to meet the American 
 envoy; the other was the fete given him by the Consul 
 Cambaceres on his return from Marengo; and besides, * 
 added she, (< he dances but little. B 
 
 c< My sister, ® said Albert, with his natural mildness of 
 manner, <c will not readily admit that ; the First Consul 
 has often, very often, danced the Monaco and Lcs Deux 
 Cogs with Laurette, to the sound of my eldest sister's 
 piano. Do you know Madame, that we may claim almost 
 the rights of fraternity with General Bonaparte? " (< Yes, 
 he has often told me so," she replied, with an affectation 
 of friendliness. But this was not true, for I know that 
 the First Consul never spoke of my mother to Madame 
 Bonaparte, except when she herself led to the subject, 
 which she was not fond of doing. 
 
 After taking leave of Madame Bonaparte, we proceeded 
 by the staircase of the Pavilion of Flora to the apartments 
 of the First Consul. The aid-de-camp in waiting observed 
 that the hour of admission was past. (< But I have an 
 appointment," said Junot. <( And madame ? " asked the 
 aid-de-camp. He was the unfortunate Lacuee, killed at 
 Austerlitz, nephew of the Comte de Cessac, and cousin of 
 M. de Beausset. 
 
 (< We are too recently married, my friend," replied Junot, 
 <( to be more than one and the same person; therefore 
 announce me, if you please; and though ladies do not often 
 come to trouble your hermitage, show that you know how 
 to be gallant, and give my wife your arm." When the 
 door was opened, and the First Consul saw me, he said, 
 smiling very good-humoredly, a What means this family 
 deputation ? — there is only Madame Permon wanting to 
 its completion. Is she afraid of the Tuileries, or of me ? "
 
 DUCHESS OF ABR ANTES 345 
 
 " General, " said my husband immediately, "Madame Per- 
 mon would gladly have joined us, but she is very ill, and 
 finds it impossible to leave her chamber to come to re- 
 quest a favor of you, which she is very desirous to 
 obtain. My wife is charged to address to you her petition 
 in form." 
 
 The First Consul turned toward me with a smile say- 
 ing, (< Well, let me hear. What do you wish for ? " It is 
 difficult, if not impossible, to describe the charm of his 
 countenance when he smiled with a feeling of benevo- 
 lence. His soul was upon his lips and in his eyes. The 
 magic power of that expression at a later period is well 
 known; the Emperor of Russia had experienced it when 
 he said to me, <( I never loved anyone more than that 
 man ! B 
 
 I told the General what had been agreed upon, and had 
 scarcely ended my little harangue, when he took my two 
 hands, and said, (< Well, I shall certainly be at this ball. 
 Did you expect I should refuse ? I shall go most will- 
 ingly. * Then he added a phrase which he often repeated : 
 w Though I shall be in the midst of my enemies ; for 
 your mother's drawing-room, they tell me, is full of them. 8 
 
 Junot now made a sign to us to take leave ; we accord- 
 ingly made our parting salutations, and the First Consul, 
 after pressing my brother's hand with as much cordiality 
 as if we were still in my father's house, inquired on what 
 day this ball should take place. <( Next Monday, General ; 
 it is, I believe, the 10th of November." 
 
 "What! the 10th of November," said the First Consul, 
 going to his escritoire ; (< that seems to me to be some 
 particular day ; let me see ; " and as he spoke he found 
 the calendar he was seeking. <( I thought so," he added, 
 on consulting it. (< The 10th of November is the anni- 
 versary of the 1 8th Brumaire, and I cannot join a party 
 on that day. Your mother will have no company; your 
 acquaintance of the Faubourg Saint Germain will cer- 
 tainly not quit their retreats to make a festival of the 
 anniversary of the re-establishment of the Republic. 
 What concerns me personally," and his countenance as 
 he spoke assumed an expression serious and severe, (( is 
 of little consequence, but I must see the Republic re- 
 spected; it would not, therefore, be suitable that the 
 anniversary of the day which restored it to us entire
 
 346 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 should be celebrated otherwise than as a family festival. 
 I do not refuse Madame Permon's invitation if you will 
 name another day. w 
 
 The change was immediately resolved upon, and he 
 himself named the 12th of November. "Do you receive 
 Josephine ? B he inquired. I answered that Madame Bona- 
 parte had accepted for herself and her daughter the in- 
 vitation which my mother, to her great regret, had not 
 been able to give in person. 
 
 w Oh, I have no doubt but Madame Permon is ill, 39 said 
 the First Consul ; (< but there is idleness, if not some 
 other motive, which I will not mention in her absence. 
 Is there not, Madame Loulou ? w And so saying, he 
 pulled my ear and hair till he made my eyes water, 
 which I was not sorry for, as it furnished an excuse for 
 not answering this blunt interpolation, and for the color 
 which flushed my cheeks. While this was passing be- 
 tween us and the future master of the world, another 
 scene took place in the apartments of Madame Bonaparte 
 below stairs. 
 
 M. de Caulaincourt paid his court very attentively to 
 Madame Bonaparte; an old friendship or relationship 
 between them was connected with a remembrance of 
 protection on his part, and of gratitude on hers. She 
 was, in consequence, on very good terms with my adopted 
 godfather, and almost every morning the pony, with its 
 velvet saddle and gilded bridle, trotted from the Rue des 
 Capuchins to the Tuileries. 
 
 Here it arrived on the morning of our visit, just as 
 we had left Madame Bonaparte, and the conversation 
 naturally falling upon the invitation we had brought, M. 
 de Caulaincourt, to whom my mother had related all 
 that had passed on the preceding night, glorying in 
 the firm stand she had made in favor of a written 
 invitation, unceremoniously accused me of having mis- 
 taken my instructions, and very innocently repeated to 
 Madame Bonaparte all that he had learned from my 
 mother, of whose plans he perfectly approved. This 
 unlucky incident produced a rather awkward denoue- 
 ment on our return to the salon; but our apologies were 
 graciously accepted, and whether or not the truth ever 
 reached the ears of the First Consul it produced no 
 visible result.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 347 
 
 My mother easily perceived that it would be ridiculous 
 for her to celebrate the anniversary of the 18th Brumaire; 
 the change which we had made in the day consequently 
 received her perfect acquiescence, and passed off without 
 any observation. 
 
 CHAPTER XLVIII. 
 
 The Ball and the Flowers — The First Country-Dance — Mademoiselle 
 de Beauharnais, Mademoiselle de Perigord„ Mademoiselle de 
 Caseaux and Myself — The Minuet de la Reine and the Gavotte 
 — The Fine Dancers — Madame Leclerc and the Toilet of Madame 
 Bonaparte — Noise of Horses and the Arrival of the First Consul — 
 The Dance Interrupted — The First Consul's Gray Overcoat — Long 
 Conversation between the First Consul and M. de Talleyrand — 
 M. Laffitte and the Three-Cornered Hat — M. de Trenis and the 
 Grand Bow — The First Consul Listening to a Dancing Lesson — 
 Bonaparte Not Fond of Long Speeches — Interesting Conversation 
 between Bonaparte and My Mother — Jerome, His Debts, His Beard, 
 and Superfluous Traveling Case. 
 
 All was preparation in my mother's house for the 
 expected ball, which she intended should be one of 
 the most agreeable to be given this year in Paris. 
 Our friends also looked forward to it with impatience. My 
 mother had already refused the requests of about forty 
 men and twelve women for tickets. She was delighted 
 when such requests were made to her. The arrange- 
 ments for ornamenting the house were perfect; and 
 when at length all the trees, plants, and flowers assumed 
 the places her taste appointed them, and innumerable 
 lights shone among them from lamps of every color, the 
 staircase and hall perfectly resembled an enchanted 
 palace. 
 
 Madame Bonaparte arrived about nine o'clock, accom- 
 panied by her son and daughter, and led by Colonel 
 Rapp. My mother met her in the middle of the dining- 
 room; the other ladies she received at the door of the 
 salon. She was polite and gracious to everyone, as she 
 so well knew how to be. She conducted Madame Bona- 
 parte to the armchair on the right of the fireplace, and 
 begged her, with the hospitable grace of the South, to
 
 348 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUXOT 
 
 make herself perfectly at home. She must have appeared 
 to her, what she actually was, a very agreeable and 
 charming woman. 
 
 My mother was, perhaps, the prettiest woman in the 
 room, after the First Consul's two sisters. She had been 
 for some time in better health, and the respite from suf- 
 fering had restored to her features that harmony and 
 regularity in which her beauty consisted. She wore on 
 that evening a dress, made by Madame Germon, of white 
 crape, trimmed with bunches of double jonquils. Its 
 form was Grecian, folding over the bosom, and fastened 
 on the shoulders with two diamond clasps. Her head- 
 dress had a degree of eccentricity in its composition which 
 became her admirably. 
 
 As she could not, or rather did not, choose to appear 
 on the occasion of my marriage with her hair wholly un- 
 covered, she had a toque of white crape ( made by Leroi, 
 who then lived in the Rue des Petits-Champs, and had 
 already acquired some reputation), through the folds of 
 which her fine black hair appeared, resembling velvet, 
 intermingled with bunches of jonquil, like those which 
 trimmed her gown. She wore in her bosom a large bou- 
 quet of jonquils and natural violets, furnished by Madame 
 Roux, but exhibited neither necklace nor jewels of any 
 kind except two very fine diamond drops in her ears. 
 This attire was set off by a person whose elegance of 
 figure and manner were at least her most striking orna- 
 ment. 
 
 At a quarter before nine o'clock Junot went to the 
 Tuileries to be ready to attend the First Consul to my 
 mother's, but found him so overwhelmed with business 
 that it was impossible for him to name the hour at which 
 he could arrive ; but he was desired to request as a favor 
 that the dancing might commence, the First Consul giv- 
 ing his assurance that he would certainly come, however 
 late he might be compelled to make his visit. 
 
 The ball, then, was opened at half-past nine. Junot 
 danced with Mademoiselle de Beauharnais, Eugene de 
 Beauharnais with me, Hippolyte de Rastignac with Made- 
 moiselle de Caseaux, and Mademoiselle de P with 
 
 M. Dupaty. M. de Trdnis was not yet arrived, nor M. 
 Laffitte. These gentlemen were at this time in the ex- 
 treme of everything that is inconceivable; and to join a
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 349 
 
 party at two or three o'clock in the morning was nothing 
 unusual with them. 
 
 I had this evening, in the opinion of my mother and 
 all our old friends, an important duty to fulfill: it was 
 to dance the minuet de la cour and the gavotte. For 
 three weeks Gardel's long lessons had been renewed, that 
 this minuet, which with my whole soul I detested, might 
 be executed in perfection. I had entreated my mother 
 to spare me this painful exhibition, but to no purpose. 
 Not to dance the minuet de la Reine at a bridal ball would 
 have been a dereliction of all established customs, which 
 she could not by any means sanction. 
 
 M. de Tr6nis belonged to our society : he was a worthy 
 man, and far from meriting the character which he gave 
 himself of being nothing but a dancer. He possessed 
 much information and some wit ; natural good sense and 
 a correct judgment, very capable of appreciating the 
 ridiculous extravagance of his own words; that of his 
 dress, though in the height of fashion, was by no means 
 so exaggerated. As of all the fine dancers of the day, he 
 was the one with whom we were the most acquainted, I 
 had engaged him to dance the minuet de la cour with me, 
 hoping to be less timid with him than with M. Laffitte 
 or M. Dupaty. 
 
 At half -past ten General Bonaparte was not arrived; 
 everyone else was, and the five rooms in my mother's 
 suite of apartments were much more than conveniently 
 crowded. All the Bonaparte family except Joseph, who, 
 I believe, was then at Luneville, came early. 
 
 Madame Leclerc, always beautiful and elegant, had 
 taken her seat at a distance from her sister-in-law, 
 whose exquisite taste in dress never failed to put her 
 out of conceit with her own appearance, how carefully 
 soever her toilet had been performed. <( I do not under- 
 stand, w said she to me, <( how a person forty years old 
 can wear garlands of flowers! w 
 
 Madame Bonaparte had a wreath of poppies and golden 
 ears of corn upon her head, and her dress was trimmed 
 with the same. I was afraid that she would foolishly 
 make the same compliment to my mother, and unwilling 
 that a stupid remark should spoil the pleasure of the 
 evening, I answered that my mother, who was older than 
 Madame Bonaparte, had also flowers on her head and
 
 35o MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 round her gown. Madame Leclerc looked at me with an 
 air of astonishment. u But it is quite different — quite a 
 different thing, w said she. 
 
 At a few minutes before eleven the trampling of the 
 First Consul's horse guards was heard. Very soon after- 
 ward the carriage drove up to the door, and almost 
 immediately he appeared at the entrance of the dining- 
 room with Albert and Junot, who had received him in 
 the hall. My mother advanced toward him, and saluted 
 him with her most courteous obeisance, to which he 
 replied with a smile: 
 
 (< Eh, Madame Permon, is that how you receive an old 
 friend ? M and held out his hand. My mother gave him 
 hers, and they entered the ballroom together. The heat 
 was excessive. The First Consul remarked it, but with- 
 out taking off his gray overcoat, and was on the point 
 of making the tour of the room, but his searching eye 
 had already observed that many of the ladies present had 
 not risen at his entrance; he was offended, and passed 
 immediately into the bedroom, still retaining my mother's 
 arm, and appearing to look at her with admiration. 
 
 Dancing had been discontinued as soon as he appeared, 
 and Bonaparte soon perceived it by the stillness of the 
 salon, from whence issued only the murmuring sounds 
 produced by the observations made upon him in an 
 undertone. 
 
 "Pray, Madame Permon," said he, <( let the dancing be 
 resumed; young people must be amused, and dancing is 
 their favorite pastime. I am told, by the by, that your 
 daughter dances as well as Mademoiselle Chameroi. I 
 must see it. And if you will, you and I will dance the 
 Monaco — the only one I know." 
 
 (< I have not danced these thirty years, w replied my 
 mother. 
 
 M Oh, you are jesting. You look to-night like your 
 daughter's sister." 
 
 M. de Talleyrand was of the party. The First Consul, 
 after having spoken to us all in the most agreeable man- 
 ner, entered into a conversation with him in my mother's 
 bedroom, which lasted without interruption for three- 
 quarters of an hour. Toward midnight he returned to 
 the salon, and appeared determined to make himself per- 
 fectly agreeable to everyone.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 351 
 
 How great soever my reluctance to dance this unfor- 
 tunate minuet, I had no choice but to answer to the 
 summons of my mother, who, without concerning herself 
 whether I was maid or wife, expected me to be always 
 obedient to her commands. For a moment I thought 
 myself safe. M. de Tr6nis was called for, but could no- 
 where be found. I went to tell my mother, but gained 
 nothing. M. Laffitte was requested to supply his place. 
 He had no hat; my mother soon found him one. 
 
 All these difficulties removed, I at length went through 
 the dreaded minuet, having whispered to Gardel not to 
 allow the gavotte to be played, and reckoned my last 
 courtesy a real happiness. M. Laffitte was reconducting 
 me to my seat, holding in one hand an enormous three- 
 cornered hat that he had borrowed of I know not whom, 
 and leading me with the other, when we met M. de 
 Trdnis. He looked at me with so terrible an air that I 
 became uneasy for the consequences of having danced 
 the minuet with another person. I told him mildly that 
 I had waited till past midnight, and that my mother had 
 at length required that I should dance with M. Laffitte. 
 (< I hope, my dear sir, that you will forget this nonob- 
 servance of my engagement, and particularly as your 
 absence was its sole cause. B 
 
 He acquiesced in his disappointment, and, seating him- 
 self between my friend Mademoiselle de Merigny and 
 myself, commenced a most ludicrous harangue upon the 
 regret he experienced, which was the greater on account 
 of my share of the loss; <c for I shall never, never forget the 
 spectacle I saw," added he. I was alarmed, and entreated 
 an explanation, which, after listening to most high-flown 
 compliments on the excellence of my own dancing, I 
 obtained at length in the following terms: 
 
 <( That you should dance a minuet with a man — a good 
 dancer, no doubt; yes, he dances well, but if he dance a 
 country dance well — he never, never in his life, knew 
 how to make the grand bow with the hat — he cannot 
 make the grand bow. w 
 
 Mademoiselle de Merigny and I could not help laugh- 
 ing. But M. de Tr6nis was too deep in his subject to 
 attend to our merriment. "That seems to surprise you, w 
 he continued ; c< I can easily believe it. Not to know how 
 to put on one's hat! — for that is the science — it is not
 
 352 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUXOT 
 
 difficult to explain — stay — give me leave. w Then, tak- 
 ing us both by the hand, he led us to my mother's room, 
 where there were but few persons, and placing himself 
 before the pier glass, hummed the close of the minuet 
 air, and began the salute with the most perfect gravity, 
 putting on his cocked hat with all the effect so impor- 
 tant an affair demanded. 
 
 The laughing fit returned with redoubled force ; but 
 the comedy was not yet complete. Junot had joined us, 
 and the First Consul, whose presence had not as yet 
 caused us any constraint on account of his close conver- 
 sation with M. de Talleyrand, now stepped gently behind 
 M. de Trenis to share the amusement with which this origi- 
 nal was providing us. He made a sign to Junot to engage 
 him in conversation, which was easy, if dancing were the 
 subject, provided, however, that it were seriously treated. 
 For he never laughed, he said, unless the air of a 
 country dance was very gay, and then the orchestra com- 
 pelled him to smile. <( How do you agree with M. Laf- 
 fitte ? said Junot, with as serious a countenance as he 
 could command. 
 
 <( Why, B replied he, <( as well as two men of talent can 
 be supposed to agree when so nearly upon an equality. 
 But he is an honest fellow, not at all envious of my suc- 
 cess. It is true that his own may well render him in- 
 dulgent. His dance is lively and powerful. He has the 
 advantage over me in the first eight measures of Pan- 
 urge's gavotte. But in the jetes! oh! there he has no 
 chance: he has nerve, but I have grace. 8 
 
 The First Consul opened his eyes and ears, altogether 
 unaccustomed to such rant. <( It is prodigious, w said he 
 at length ; <( this man is much more irrational than many 
 who are confined in mad houses. Is he a friend of 
 yours? B 
 
 "Not exactly; but he is an intimate acquaintance — 
 that is to say, we see him twice a week. But, except at 
 a ball, he never talks of dancing, and can reason clev- 
 erly upon the manners of ancient Greece ; it is a portion 
 of history he has very much studied. He speaks several 
 languages, and, Albert says, is worth more than his 
 reputation. * 
 
 Bonaparte never listened to so long a discourse ; I have 
 learned that it never answered to make long speeches
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 353 
 
 to him. He had returned to his place near M. de Tal- 
 leyrand; I saw by the direction of his eyes that he was 
 speaking of M. de Trenis. He met my eyes fixed upon 
 him, and called me to him, to make me a compliment 
 on my mother's ball ; his praises seemed almost a re- 
 proach. My mother had been perfectly polite to him ; 
 but it appeared to me that she should have been more 
 cordial. 
 
 I went to her, and, persuading- her to walk with me, 
 led her toward her own chamber, where I found the 
 First Consul on the spot where I had quitted him ; but 
 Junot and M. de Villemanzy had replaced M. de Talley- 
 rand. As soon as the First Consul saw my mother, he 
 went direct to her, and said, (< Well, Madame Permon, 
 what have you to say to one of your old friends ? It 
 seems to me that you easily forget them. Do you know, 
 I thought you very hard the other evening, and at the 
 very time one of your friends held his knife in readi- 
 ness? M 
 
 <c Oh, horrible! w exclaimed my mother; (< how can 
 you, Napoleon, say such things? — Per Dio tacete ! 
 tacctc ! w 
 
 <( But why would you not return my friendly salute ? I 
 took the first moment of recognizing you to make it.* 
 
 My mother alleged the weakness of her eyes, and not 
 without cause, for they became very useless in the last 
 years of her life; but General .Bonaparte would not be 
 put off with this excuse. (< What am I to think? w said 
 he; <( are we no longer friends? w 
 
 <( Non posso dimenticare, caro Napoleone, che siete figlio 
 dell arnica ; fratello del mio buon Giuseppe, del caro Luci- 
 ano, e di Paiiletta* — The First Consul made a move- 
 ment, which I noticed, and replied with a bitter accent: 
 
 <( So, then, if I still hold a place in your regard, I 
 owe it to my mother and my brothers. It may well be 
 said that to expect friendship from a woman is to ex- 
 pect the sands of the desert to remain fixed. w 
 
 This discussion gave me pain; it seemed that my 
 mother remembered that unfortunate quarrel excited by 
 one of our cousins, who never could indemnify us for 
 the affection which we lost through his means. The 
 First Consul walked in silence toward the fire. My 
 mother was seated upon a sofa opposite to him, her arms 
 23
 
 354 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 crossed upon her bosom, and shaking her foot in the 
 fashion which usually preceded a violent scene. Albert, 
 going to and fro between the chamber and the salon, at 
 this moment approached General Bonaparte to offer him 
 an ice. 
 
 W I assure you," said he, (< that neither Madame Permon 
 nor myself require ice — indeed, I believe we are petri- 
 fied; I knew very well that absence deadened remem- 
 brance, but not to such a point as this. 9 He touched an 
 unlucky string. 
 
 "Truly!® said my mother, with a constrained smile, 
 but with her lips sufficiently opened to show her two- 
 and- thirty pearls ( on which General Bonaparte cast his 
 eyes; he spoke of them to me the following day); — 
 <( truly! one may be permitted to forget after an interval 
 of some years. Did you not wish to persuade me that it 
 was difficult to remember, after a few days, an action 
 which affected the fate of an entire life ? B 
 
 <( Ah! * exclaimed the First Consul, and his counte- 
 nance darkened in an instant. He knit that brow, the 
 movement of which already agitated the universe; his 
 under lip pressed strongly against the other; and, joining 
 his hands behind him, he walked a few paces without 
 speaking; but all this was scarcely visible, as Junot and 
 my brother told me, when I returned from joining in a 
 country-dance. The First Consul promptly resumed his 
 air of serenity, and, seating himself beside my mother, 
 looked attentively at her hand, which he had taken to 
 kiss. 
 
 <( It seems to me that you do not correct any of your 
 faults, Madame Permon ? }i and he pointed to the bitten 
 nails of her fingers. 
 
 (< No, " said my mother, c< they and I have grown old 
 together. Leave all in its place ; it is only you who are 
 forbidden to remain as you are; you have still so many 
 steps to climb before you reach the summit of your 
 glory that to wish you repose would be to wish harm to 
 ourselves. * 
 
 (< Do you really think as you speak ? B 
 
 <c You know my sincerity. I do not always say all I 
 think; but I never say what I do not think. Have you 
 forgotten my frankness ? w 
 
 Bonaparte took my mother's hand and pressed it affec-
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 355 
 
 tionately. At this moment the clock struck two. He 
 asked for his carriage. 
 
 c< Will you not stay slipper ? w asked my mother. 
 
 (< I cannot possibly, n said he, with an accent of regret; 
 <( but I will come and see you again. * 
 
 My mother smiled, and shook her head gently. 
 
 (< Why that smile ? do you doubt me, Madame Permon ? 
 If in this evening either of us has doubted the friend- 
 ship of the other, I do not think it is I who should be 
 accused of having caused that suspicion. Yes, I shall 
 come and see you again. The Signora Laetitia shall bring 
 me, since I must rest my claim to your regard upon her, 
 or upon Joseph, or upon Lucien, or even upon Paulette: 
 who knows ? perhaps upon Jerome. Speaking of that 
 brave little citizen, you brought him up well while I was 
 far off. I find him willful, and willful in bad things. The 
 Signora Laetitia spoils him so totally that I much doubt 
 whether he will mend where he now is." 
 
 To speak of Jerome was to touch another chord which 
 vibrated very sensibly on my mother's ear. <( He is an 
 excellent lad, >} said she — (< all warmth of heart, and good 
 sentiments. Jerome is a true sailor; let him tan himself 
 in the sea air, and he will return to you a Duguay-Trouin, 
 or at least a Duquesne." 
 
 This was not the only time in the course of the even- 
 ing that my mother had advanced an opinion with which 
 she was not perfectly satisfied; but she loved Jerome, I 
 believe, almost as well as she loved me, and her parti- 
 ality really went a great way. The First Consul was 
 right when he said that at his return he found his brother 
 singularly educated. The seniors of the family had taken 
 care that everything should be in good order — that is to 
 say, Jerome was at the College of Juilly, and was fre- 
 quently visited there by his family; but he still more 
 frequently visited Paris himself to offer the respects of a 
 young gentleman of fourteen to Mademoiselle Emilie 
 and Mademoiselle Hortense de Beauharnais; then be- 
 lieving himself a man, the studies went on as they might. 
 
 Jerome and I were of the same age; my mother, who 
 coupled with his birth the unhappy circumstances of the 
 death of M. Charles Bonaparte, loved him so much the 
 more. In general, she had a warm affection for all 
 the brothers, but had her preferences among them as
 
 356 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUXOT 
 
 among the sisters. Madame Leclerc was her favorite, 
 and to such a degree that I, who could not share her 
 prejudice, often had warm discussions with her on the 
 subject, in which perhaps jealous)' might have its share. 
 
 At that time I loved Madame Murat the best of Na- 
 poleon's sisters, and Joseph and Lucien were, with the 
 First Consul, those of the whole family whom I pre- 
 ferred. Jerome had been very much loved, very much 
 spoiled, not only by my mother, but by my brother, and, 
 indeed, by all of us. I did not find that when he ad- 
 vanced in life, and consequently when his sentiments 
 might be expected to develop themselves, he was to my 
 mother in particular what he ought to have been. I do 
 not accuse him, but I shall have future occasion to prove 
 that I was not mistaken. But this, after all, is no crime. 
 
 The First Consul told us, while speaking of Jerome, 
 that he had contracted one of the oddest debts that 
 could be imagined for a youth of fifteen. The First 
 Consul was at Marengo: his brother was already in the 
 service, ' but, being too young to take part in the cam- 
 paign, was left in Paris. On the return of the First 
 Consul, Bourrienne was presented with a number of 
 bills, amounting in the whole to a considerable sum, the 
 payment of which was pressing. Among others Bien- 
 nais figured for eight or ten thousand francs. Great 
 inquiries were made, and many reports were spread, as 
 to how so large a debt could have arisen ? 
 
 At length it was discovered that M. Jerome Bonaparte 
 had purchased of M. Biennais, Rue Saint Honore, at the 
 sign of the Singe Violet, a magnificent traveling case 
 containing everything that could be invented by elegance 
 and luxury, in gold, mother-of-pearl, silver, and ivory, the 
 finest porcelains, and the most beautifully executed 
 enamels; in short, the whole was a jewel. But one very 
 essential thing was wanting to this dressing case, and that 
 was a beard to make it useful ; for whatever it contained 
 would admit of no other application. Razors, shaving 
 pots of all sizes in silver and china; combs for the mous- 
 taches; in short, every article of convenience for shaving, 
 but the beard was wanting ; and, unfortunately, the young 
 man who was but fifteen had some long years to wait for 
 it. The First Consul told this little history in a very 
 entertaining style.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 357 
 
 CHAPTER XLIX. 
 
 The Tribunes and Long Harangues — The Consular Court and the 
 Roman Forum — M. Andrieux — Lucien, the Author of the 18th 
 Brumaire — Depression of Lucien, and Remarkable Visit — Lord 
 Malmesbury — Madame Bonaparte and Her Brother-in-law — Em- 
 barrassment of the First Consul — Lucien Announces His Departure 
 — The Road to the Throne — Lucien 's Children — Secrecy of Lucien's 
 Journey — The Little Beggar — Portrait of Lucien — The Flechelle 
 Family and Injustice Repaired. 
 
 At the period of my marriage the Consular Court was 
 rather singularly organized. Its arrangement was 
 somewhat affected by the strong prejudices of the 
 First Consul. He wished it to be in grand style, yet was 
 fearful of incurring the reproach already directed against 
 him by several tribunes, who, mistaking the Palais Royal 
 (where equality no longer existed) for the Roman forum, 
 delighted in making long harangues in which Caesar, 
 Brutus, Pericles, Solon, Aristides, and Lycurgus all found 
 a place, but which had no more reference to the unfortu- 
 nate French Republic than if its locality was beyond 
 Tobolsk. 
 
 Lucien, immediately after the 18th Brumaire, was ap- 
 pointed Minister of the Interior. It is unfortunate that 
 a prejudice, for it was certainly nothing else, prevented 
 his being elected Second or Third Consul. 
 
 At first sight, the participation of two brothers in the 
 Consulate would naturally lead to the conclusion that 
 but one would direct the Executive; whereas, in reality, 
 the national interest would have been far better defended 
 than by a man such as the Consul Lebrun, who, unques- 
 tionably honest himself, was, nevertheless, too readily dis- 
 posed to affirm every proposition, even of his second, 
 and still more of his first colleague. 
 
 In accomplishing the events of the 18th Brumaire, at 
 which he had labored with an influential activity, whose 
 remembrance should never have deserted Napoleon, it 
 cannot be doubted that Lucien believed his brother 
 would confer on France a Government that should render 
 her at once happy at home and great and formidable 
 abroad. As for war, it was then looked upon merely as
 
 358 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUXOT 
 
 a party of pleasure ; in its prosecution, not only the 
 glory but the good fortune of the French was calculated 
 upon as certain. 
 
 In the interior, on the other hand, misery was at its 
 height: although not in the Consulate, as Minister of the 
 Interior much was in Lucien's power: the choice of pre- 
 fects and of mayors; new municipal laws to be given to 
 the communes; the whole mode of election to be re- 
 formed; manufacturers to be protected, which at that 
 time were everywhere rising; new discoveries to be 
 turned to account; and misery to be relieved by employ- 
 ment, the only alms which should be bestowed on the 
 people — all this he foresaw, and undertook with courage 
 and success. But he soon appeared sad and unhappy. 
 Obstacles multiplied around him; he had spoken of them 
 to my brother-in-law; my mother, who tenderly loved 
 him, perceived it before he opened the subject. Lucien 
 was unhappy, and doubly so through the means of his 
 brother. 
 
 But- in justice to Bonaparte, I must declare that he 
 was unworthily deceived with respect to his brother; he 
 was persuaded of the existence of facts entirely false. 
 He was even inspired by someone with uneasiness for 
 his personal safety. He never yielded to these suspicions, 
 but the voice which accused his brother was one very 
 dear to him. It was evident that he sought with avidity 
 everything that could afford him a ray of consolation 
 amid that perplexing obscurity with which others en- 
 deavored to fill up the distance that fate had just estab- 
 lished between the two brothers — an interval which 
 Lucien always respected, even when refusing to acknowl- 
 edge it, but which the First Consul should have over- 
 looked. A violent animosity had, however, arisen be- 
 tween Madame Bonaparte and her brothers-in-law, which 
 not only interrupted the domestic happiness of this nu- 
 merous family, but proved in the end a source of the 
 greatest misfortune to herself. 
 
 I visited my mother every day, and frequently dined 
 with her. One day that we had dined alone, Albert and 
 M. de Geouffre being both absent, we had scarcely risen 
 from the table when Lucien arrived. He was mourn- 
 ful, very serious, and appeared in deep thought. My 
 mother remarking it, he admitted it, and told us he was
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 359 
 
 on the eve of departure, upon which my mother uttered 
 an exclamation. " Did not you know it ? w said he ; (< I 
 take Geouffre with me." 
 
 (< If you wish to let me know your affairs by my son- 
 in-law, M replied my mother, w command him to communi- 
 cate them, for when you are in question he is a true 
 Malmesbury. 8 * 
 
 (< Yes, I am going, ® said Lucien, crossing his arms 
 over his bosom, and contemplating the fire with that 
 sombre abstraction which indicates deep grief; <( I am go- 
 ing! my counsels displease; and, moreover, there is at 
 present a barrier between Napoleon and me which can 
 never be removed, because it is beneath my character to 
 justify myself, and thereby to recognize the legality of 
 a tribunal which, on the contrary, I challenge. My 
 brother believes the perfidious insinuations of a woman, 
 with whom he ought to be too well acquainted to sacri- 
 fice his family to her; he suspects the fidelity of a brother 
 whose devotedness has been the sole means of opening 
 to him the road to a throne. B 
 
 <( To a throne ! ® cried my mother. 
 
 Lucien replied only by a smile, at once melancholy and 
 expressive. (< Always remember, Madame Permon, w re- 
 joined he, (< that I certainly had no such thoughts on the 
 1 8th and 19th Brumaire." 
 
 It may be well supposed that, in speaking afterward 
 of Lucien to the First Consul, I was careful not to re- 
 peat this part of the conversation. 
 
 (< Are you going far ? B inquired my mother. 
 
 <( I must not tell you ; I ought not to have announced 
 my departure. I request of Madame Junot not to speak 
 of this conversation before her husband. * 
 
 * Lord Malmesbury was sent on a special mission to the Directory 
 from England in the year vii., while M. de Talleyrand was Minister 
 for Foreign Affairs. It is to be presumed that Lord Malmesbury's 
 instructions were not very extensive., for at every word hazarded by 
 Talleyrand — who, it may be observed, did not himself waste many 
 — Lord Malmesbury uniformly replied: "Allow me to write home re. 
 specting that. 8 ( ^Permettez que fen derive a ma cour. y> ) And as we 
 seldom fail to take advantage of the ridiculous, a caricature was ex- 
 hibited, in which Talleyrand, stepping up to the English Ambassa- 
 dor, inquires how he is ; and Lord Malmesbury shows him, according 
 to the custom of caricatures, a long paper inscribed with the words: 
 <( Perinettez-moi d'en e'er ire a ma eour. n
 
 360 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 Some days afterward Lucien quitted Paris. A car- 
 riage, containing Arnaud, a miniature painter named 
 Chatillon, and M. Felix Desporte, preceded him, and took 
 the road to Amiens, while Lucien, in his berlin, with my 
 brother-in-law, set out toward Bordeaux. He had with 
 him his two little girls, the youngest of whom was still 
 in arms ; and on these two little beings he lavished all 
 the cares of the most attentive woman. 
 
 My mother, learning that he was going to take his 
 children, advised him to leave them with the kind and 
 excellent Madame Joseph; but at the first word Lucien, 
 starting from his chair, exclaimed : <( No, no ; I will not 
 leave my children here ; do not talk to me of separating 
 from them! I may be accused of levity, of easy morals, 
 but at least, neither mother, brothers, children, nor 
 friends, shall ever have occasion to reproach my heart. }) 
 He was much agitated; my mother embraced him and 
 said, w Well, you are right; take these poor little ones; 
 they are no longer blessed with a mother, and a fond 
 father can alone supply her loss. w 
 
 A messenger was dispatched after the carriage, which 
 was journeying toward Amiens; it changed its course, 
 and rejoined Lucien near Bordeaux. I know not the 
 cause of all this mystery; perhaps it was designed to 
 conceal from Austria, with whom negotiations were being 
 carried on, the mission of the First Consul's brother as 
 Ambassador to Spain. This could not, indeed, be kept 
 secret above seven or eight days, but that is much in 
 diplomatic relations; I state the facts as they occurred: 
 Lucien arrived at Madrid, and replaced there two men 
 whose abilities, when compared with his, made a very 
 mediocre appearance ; these were Berthier and Alquier. 
 
 Some time after the departure of Lucien an affair was 
 much talked of, and his enemies would fain have mis- 
 represented it; but the following is the exact truth. 
 The ages of the children are particularly accurate, a 
 matter of some importance to the good or evil aspect of 
 the story. 
 
 A boy, eleven years of age, neatly dressed, was stand- 
 ing in the Rue Des Petits Champs, near the Place Ven- 
 dome, and asking alms of persons in whose physiognomy 
 he could descry a more than common share of humanity. 
 A young man, wrapped up in a large blue greatcoat,
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 361 
 
 with knit pantaloons of gray silk, a round hat, and gold 
 spectacles, casually looked upon the child as he passed. 
 There was kindness in his countenance, and his smile 
 emboldened the poor little importunate to hold out his 
 hand; the gentleman frowned, yet gave him a coin of 
 douze sous (sixpence). 
 
 w Why do you beg, child ? n said he in a severe tone. 
 The poor child began to cry, pointing with his finger to 
 a woman and two little girls, the eldest of whom was ten, 
 and the other nine, seated on the stone bench of the 
 house which then stood in a little recess, where the pas- 
 sage to the Jacobin market now is. 
 
 <( These are my mother and sisters, w said he, sobbing. 
 (< My father is very ill, and I have a little brother 
 younger than my sisters; I cannot work, and we must 
 eat, and give my father his barley water: how can this 
 be done if I do not beg ? )} 
 
 The gentleman, overcome with such a tale of misery, 
 approached the woman, asked her some questions, and, 
 having taken her address, left her a louis d'or. 
 
 On his return to the Home Department, Lucien, who 
 has no doubt been recognized in the portrait I have just 
 drawn, charged a confidential person to make inquiries 
 respecting the Fl£chelle family. The result of these in- 
 quiries was not only satisfactory, but of a nature to 
 extort a blush from the Government, had it been pos- 
 sible for the Directory to blush for its evil deeds. Fle- 
 chelle had been employed in the grant office, where his 
 conduct was irreproachable, but in consequence of one 
 of those intrigues too common under a venal Government 
 he was dismissed without pension or indemnity; and, as 
 security against his complaints, was culumniated to the 
 Minister of the day, who refused even to see him. 
 
 This man had four children, and from an easy com- 
 petence his family were suddenly plunged into absolute 
 destitution. Overwhelmed with grief, the vigilance of 
 his wife alone defeated an attempt at suicide, and soon 
 remorse occasioned an illness. Lucien the next day sent 
 them, through his confidential agent, a hundred francs, 
 and an abundant provision of sugar, coffee, candles, oil, 
 etc., a cartload of wood, and a sack of coals: he also 
 conferred on Flechelle, as a just indemnity, the brevet 
 of a place at the barrieres, worth two thousand francs.
 
 362 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 The agitating joy of the news proved too much for 
 the father, enfeebled by long illness; he died, and left 
 his family again exposed to misery. Lucien, immersed 
 in cares at the moment of his departure for Spain, was 
 unable then to assist them, but the excellent Mrs. Anson, 
 meeting with this desolate family, became a second con- 
 soling and succoring angel to them. 
 
 Attempts were made to report the story at Malmaison 
 in a very different light : I took the liberty of represent- 
 ing the truth. (( The young girls are not sixteen or 
 seventeen years of age,* said I to Madame Bonaparte, 
 "for I have seen them." <( Then I have been deceived, w 
 replied she; <( but you have much affected me by the 
 misfortunes of this poor family; give me Madame Fle- 
 chelle's address, for I will send to her to-morrow; I wish 
 to have my part in the good work." She sent them, I 
 believe, forty francs. Madame Bonaparte was often com- 
 passionate, but the indiscriminate nature of her protection 
 and her recommendations often made her ridiculous, even 
 in the- eyes of those to whom she was benevolent. 
 
 CHAPTER L. 
 
 Madame Bonaparte's Apartments — Functions of M. de Benezeck and 
 the Republicans — The Aids-de-Camp — Chamberlains — The Grand 
 Dinners at the Tuileries — Improvement of Morals — The Ladies of 
 the Emigration — Installation at the Tuileries — The Two Proces- 
 sions — General Lannes's Broth — The Fortnightly Parades — Inter- 
 course of the First Consul with the Soldiers — My Cashmere Shawl, 
 and My Father-in-law's Watch — The Swedish Minister and the 
 Batiste Handkerchief — Bonaparte, a Drummer, and the Saber of 
 Honor — The Baron d'Ernsworth — The King of Spain's Horses — 
 The Diplomatic Corps in 1800 — M. de Lucchesini and the Italian 
 Harangue. 
 
 Madame Bonaparte occupied the whole ground floor 
 of the Tuileries, which was afterward her residence 
 as Empress, and also that of Maria Louisa. Ad- 
 joining her dressing room was the small apartment of 
 Mademoiselle de Beauharnais, consisting of her bed- 
 chamber, and a study scarcely of sufficient dimensions to 
 render the smell of her oil paints endurable, when she
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 363 
 
 this winter* painted her brother's portrait. The apart- 
 ments of Madame Bonaparte were furnished tastefully, 
 but without luxury; the great reception salon was hung 
 with yellow draperies; the movable furniture was damask, 
 the fringes of silk, and the wood mahogany. No gold 
 was to be seen. The other rooms were not more richly 
 decorated: all was new and elegant, but no more. The 
 apartments of Madame Bonaparte, however, were destined 
 only for private parties and morning visits. 
 
 The larger assemblies were held upstairs. As yet 
 there was neither Chamberlain nor Prefect of the Palace ; 
 an old Counselor of State, formerly Minister of the 
 Interior, M. de Benezeck, was charged with the internal 
 administration of the palace, which was at first a little 
 difficult to introduce among what remained of true 
 Republicanism. The functions of M. de Benezeck em- 
 braced those afterward divided between the Grand Cham- 
 berlain and the Master of the Ceremonies. The maitres 
 d'hotel and ushers performed the subaltern offices, 
 and the aides-de-camp supplied the place of chamber- 
 lains. 
 
 The First Consul was in the habit of inviting two 
 hundred persons every ten days to dine with him. These 
 dinners were given in the Gallery of Diana, and the 
 guests were of all ranks and classes, always including 
 the Diplomatic Body, which at this time was become 
 tolerably numerous. The wives of civil functionaries, of 
 generals and colonels, formed the society, for as yet no 
 one ventured to say the Court, of Madame Bonaparte. 
 The General was rigid in the choice he made, not for 
 his quintidian routs, but for the private and frequent 
 invitations to Malmaison, and afterward to Saint Cloud. 
 It is a fact, which only prejudiced minds will dispute, 
 that the First Consul wished to perpetuate, as far as lay 
 in his power, the amelioration of morals produced by the 
 Revolution. This will perhaps excite a smile in the pe- 
 rusal ; nevertheless, it is certain that the morals of the 
 existing generation have been retempered by the Revo- 
 lution. 
 
 * This same winter of 1800 the Tuileries caught fire, and Mademoiselle 
 Beauharnais's portrait of her brother, which was a speaking likeness, 
 was consumed. The fire was falsely imputed to incendiaries, but was 
 occasioned by ill-constructed flues.
 
 364 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 In 1800, when the Court of the Tuileries was formed, 
 society wore an appearance of morality and domestic virtue 
 which it had never before displayed in France. The 
 Noblesse, or what was at length by common consent 
 denominated the Faubourg Saint Germain, was constrained 
 to follow the general current, although here again some 
 exceptions were known in ladies who founded their fame 
 on the importation of follies from Brussels, Coblentz, 
 etc., and afterward from England. 
 
 Eventually, the Imperial Court, like all else pertaining 
 to sovereignty, spread its malign influence. It was, 
 however, comparatively but little open to censure, as the 
 Emperor exercised a magical sway over every woman 
 admitted to his Court. 
 
 When the different powers had adopted the new Con- 
 stitution proposed after the 18th Brumaire, and which I 
 believe was the fourth they were called upon to sanction, 
 the Government quitted the Luxembourg for the Tui- 
 leries. It may be observed that the First Consul, who 
 had at .first lodged the Third Consul in the Pavilion of 
 Flora, soon retook sole possession of it, and M. Lebrun, 
 like Cambaceres, retired to the occupation of a private 
 house. The whole Consular Triumvirate, however, was 
 present at the reception of ambassadors or of national 
 bodies. The 30th Pluviose, in the year viii. (19th Feb- 
 ruary, 1800), the First Consul took possession of the 
 palace of the kings, which, indeed, from the commence- 
 ment of the Revolution, had been occupied by the National 
 Representatives. At this time the Constitution of the 
 1 8th Brumaire exalted the Consular power above all 
 other national authorities; it represented in itself the 
 French people ; and such an authority required a suitable 
 abode. 
 
 Anyone who had witnessed the removal from the Lux- 
 embourg to the Tuileries on the 30th Pluviose of the 
 year viii., if he had then fallen asleep to the sound of 
 military music, playing all our patriotic airs, and had 
 been awakened by the thunder of cannon on the morn- 
 ing of the 2d of December, announcing that the Em- 
 peror Napoleon was about to be crowned by the Pope in 
 Notre Dame, would have discovered a curious contrast 
 between the two processions. In the first, on account of 
 the scarcity of private carriages at that time in Paris,
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 365 
 
 it was necessary to engage for councilors of state and 
 senators hackney coaches, whose numbers were covered 
 with white paper, producing an effect far more ludicrous 
 than if the numbers had remained visible. 
 
 On the day of his installation at the Tuileries, scarcely 
 had the First Consul arrived before he mounted his horse 
 and held a review in the court of the palace, which was 
 not then surrounded by a railing, but inclosed by ill- 
 jointed boards; and the Place du Carrousel was then 
 small and very irregular. The change was rapid ; a word 
 from Napoleon was sufficient. 
 
 The First Consul admitted that he was happy during 
 his reviews. <( And you, too, I am sure, are well content 
 while I am with your conscripts, w said he one day to 
 General Lannes. <( You do not grumble because the 
 parade retards our dinner for an hour. w (( Oh dear no! w 
 replied General Lannes, <( it is all alike to me, whether I 
 eat my soup warm or cold, provided you will set us to 
 work at making a hot broth for those rascally English.'* 
 
 He had an aversion for the English that I have never 
 observed in any other general of the Emperor's army, 
 even of those who had fought under the Republic. 
 
 The quintidians (for we must speak the language of the 
 period) were chosen for reviews, or rather for parades, 
 in the court of the Tuileries. These parades were a 
 spectacle worth seeing, especially during the Consulate. 
 Under the Empire they might be more magnificent; but 
 in 1800 their splendor was wholly national. It was the 
 glory of France that we contemplated in those squadrons 
 and battalions, which, whether composed of conscripts or 
 veterans, equally impressed with fear the foreigner who 
 surveyed them from the windows of the palace; for the 
 ardor of the young troops was fostered by constantly be- 
 holding the old musketeers of the Consular Guard cov- 
 ered with scars. 
 
 The First Consul took pleasure in these reviews, which 
 would sometimes occupy him for five hours together, 
 without a moment's interval of repose. All the regi- 
 ments in France came alternately to Paris and passed in 
 review with the Guards every fortnight at noon. The 
 First Consul was on these occasions always attended by 
 the aid-de-camp on duty, the Minister of War, the Gen- 
 eral commanding the first Division, and the Command-
 
 366 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUXOT 
 
 ant of Paris, the Commissary-General, the Commissaries 
 of War attached to the city of Paris; in short, all per- 
 sons to whom orders must be immediately transmitted, 
 in case the First Consul should, in the course of the in- 
 spection, find any alteration or improvement requisite. 
 By this means no delay could arise in the communication 
 of orders: everything was done instantaneously and 
 satisfactorily, for it was well understood that the eye of 
 the chief closely superintended all, and that if punish- 
 ment were awarded to negligence, punctuality would be 
 duly appreciated. 
 
 Sometimes he galloped along the ranks, but this was 
 rare ; he never, indeed, sat his horse unless the troops 
 had already passed in review and he was satisfied that 
 nothing was wanting. Even then he would address a 
 few questions to two or three soldiers casually selected; 
 but generally after riding along the ranks on his white 
 horse (le D/sir/) he would alight, and converse with all 
 the field officers, and with nearly all the subalterns and 
 soldiers. . His solicitude was extended to the most mi- 
 nute particulars — the food, the dress, and everything that 
 could be necessary to the soldier, or useful to the man, 
 divided his attention with the evolutions. He encouraged 
 the men to speak to him without restraint. <( Conceal 
 from me none of your wants," he would say to them; 
 <( suppress no complaints you may have to make of your 
 superiors. I am here to do justice to all, and the weaker 
 party is especially entitled to my protection. B 
 
 These words he one day addressed to a demi-brigade 
 (I believe it was the 17th), aware that the regiment be- 
 fore its removal to Paris had suffered deprivations in the 
 department where it had been in garrison. Such a sys- 
 tem was not only attended with immediately beneficial 
 results, but was adroitly adapted to answer a general 
 and not less useful purpose. The Army and its Chief 
 thus became inseparably united, and in the person of 
 that Chief the Army beheld the French Nation. Thus 
 the State, through him, dispensed both blame and com- 
 mendation. Besides, Paris by this means became ac- 
 quainted with the army; and the troops, in turn, visiting 
 the capital, ceased to regard it as another world, and 
 themselves as foreigners in it. 
 
 My husband, who invariably attended the First Consul
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 367 
 
 on these parades, communicated to me everything remark- 
 able; and in reporting the achievements of a day, which 
 to other men would have comprised the labor of a 
 month, would add: "All this proceeds with magic mechan- 
 ism; this man is a supernatural being." Junot, it is true, 
 might view his favorite General with prejudiced eyes; 
 but not on these occasions, for he was at this period of 
 his life truly admirable. 
 
 The Diplomatic Corps showed great eagerness to wit- 
 ness the parades, a privilege usually enjoyed by foreign- 
 ers from the windows of General Duroc, who already 
 occupied that part of the ground floor at the end of the 
 Empress's apartments. From the same place I saw the 
 first parade after my marriage, on which occasion an amus- 
 ing adventure happened to my father-in-law. Junot's 
 attendance being required on horseback, he could not 
 escort me to Duroc's, but intrusted me to his own family, 
 who themselves had never seen a parade. 
 
 Arrived at the railing of the Pont Royal, we alighted, 
 and, crossing the garden, endeavored to gain on foot 
 Duroc's door, which is situated at the right corner of the 
 vestibule ; but it was late,, and we were compelled to 
 make our way through a dense crowd. My mother-in- 
 law, always happy and always merry, only jested on the 
 pommelings she encountered; but her husband, quite 
 unaccustomed to such things, was in terrible ill-humor, 
 and railed particularly at the carelessness of young 
 Parisian ladies, who would risk handsome cashmere shawls 
 in such a crowd, repeatedly assuring me that I should 
 lose mine, and at the same time boasting his own pru- 
 dence in securing his watch by guarding it constantly with 
 his hand. 
 
 His cautions and vaunts were of course alike over- 
 heard, and as the most effectual means of momentarily 
 eluding his vigilance, a dexterous twitch was given to my 
 shawl; the manceuver completely succeeded — I screamed, 
 the shawl was saved; but, alas! that moment sufficed for 
 the abstraction of the carefully-guarded watch ; and its 
 unfortunate master, on discovering his loss, clamorously 
 lamented over an old and valued servant of thirty-five 
 years' standing, till reminded by Madame Junot that it 
 stopped about once a week, and had within the last year 
 cost him fifty francs in repairs.
 
 368 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 Meanwhile we had reached Duroc's door, and were 
 placed at a window. The parade had not yet commenced. 
 The officers were silently promenading in the ranks of 
 their respective regiments, speaking occasionally, but 
 only in a whisper, to a soldier or subaltern, when the 
 carriage of a weapon or the position of a hat seemed to 
 demand rectifying. 
 
 Junot, who knew the passionate enthusiasm of my 
 patriotism, had warned me that I should be much ex- 
 cited; he kissed his hand to me in passing, and, smiling 
 to see my handkerchief at my eyes, whispered to Duroc, 
 when both again looked at me, and I observed that my 
 emotion affected them. 
 
 A foreigner sat near me whose admiration of the scene 
 before him was so profound and so worthy of the occasion 
 that it struck me, and he wore a badge so singular that 
 I could not resist the impulse of curiosity, and inquired 
 the meaning of it. It was a batiste handkerchief of 
 extraordinary whiteness, tied around his arm like the 
 scarf of an aid-de-camp. <c It is a memorial of my 
 Sovereign and of a glorious day, madame," answered he, 
 and announced himself as Baron d'Ernsworth, the Swedish 
 Minister.* 
 
 I introduced to him the parents of General Junot, to 
 whom he was as polite as he could have been to the 
 Montmorencies and the La Tremouilles of France ; he was 
 near fifty years of age, and of a fine figure, perhaps 
 somewhat too much embonpoint for the elegance of the 
 military costume which he wore. He spoke, with an 
 expression which went to my heart, of the reputation of 
 him whose name I bore. <( So young, w said he, <c and 
 already so famous; but with such a captain how can the 
 lieutenants, though but children, be otherwise than 
 worthy sons of their country! }> 
 
 At this moment the First Consul stopped under our 
 window, and said to a drummer of about sixteen or seven- 
 teen, <( So it was you, my brave boy, who beat the charge 
 
 *A revolution took place on the 18th of August, 1772. The 
 partisans of Guiland adopted as a rallying sign a white handkerchief 
 tied round the arm; and the King, after his final success, granted, as 
 an honorary recompense to his faithful adherents, permission to wear 
 for life a white handkerchief round the left arm, in commemoration of 
 the service they had rendered to the Crown.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 369 
 
 before Zurich." The countenance of the young soldier 
 was suffused with crimson, but it was not timidity which 
 called the flush to his cheek. He raised toward the First 
 Consul his large black eyes, sparkling with joy at being 
 thus publicly distinguished, and replied in a half-tremu- 
 lous, half-confident tone, <( Oui, mon General." 
 
 (< It was you, too, who at Weser gave proof of the most 
 gallant presence of mind by saving your Commander. " * 
 The youth blushed still deeper, this time from modesty, 
 and answered, in a lower voice than before, (< Oui, mon 
 General." "Well, I must discharge the debt of the 
 country; it will be paid you not in a ring of honor, but 
 a saber of honor; I appoint you a subaltern in the Con- 
 sular Guard; continue to behave well, and I will take 
 care of you." 
 
 As the First Consul ceased speaking he raised his eyes 
 to the low window at which we were seated, and, touch- 
 ing his hat, saluted us all with a gracious smile. My 
 mother-in-law's eyes filled with tears, <( How ought we to 
 love this man!" said she, crying and laughing together; 
 <( see how the poor boy is overpowered. " The young 
 drummer was leaning on the shoulder of a comrade and 
 following Bonaparte with his eyes. He was pale as death, 
 but how eloquent were his looks! 
 
 I know not what may have become of him, but I will 
 answer for it if his life were sacrificed for Napoleon it 
 cost him no regret. He was in the evening the subject 
 of my conversation with the First Consul ; he listened 
 with interest, and addressing Berthier, who was just ar- 
 rived from Spain, to take the portfolio of Minister of 
 War, desired him to take down the young man's name, 
 and provide him with an outfit for his new rank. He 
 may be at this day either a general or of the number 
 of the dead; one or other he most assuredly is. 
 
 * I was particularly struck by this fact, because all the occurrences 
 of this first parade made a deep impression upon my mind; but the 
 military annals of the period are rilled with similar anecdotes, too 
 frequent to obtain insertion in (i The Moniteur? or other journals. 
 Speaking of the above the same evening to the First Consul, as 
 comparable to the noblest deeds of antiquity, he replied, <( Bah ! ask 
 your husband ; he will tell you there is neither regiment nor demi- 
 brigade in the army that could not cite ten such. He himself would 
 be the hero of several. w 
 24
 
 370 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 This parade was selected for my first attendance be- 
 cause some spirited horses sent to the First Consul by 
 the Spanish King were then to be presented. The cere- 
 mony was said to recall the equestrian present made to 
 Cromwell by a German prince. I know not what the 
 Mecklenburgh horses might have been, but the Spanish 
 were sixteen most beautiful creatures, both in coat and 
 form; fourteen were from the royal stud, and two of 
 them from the studs of the Count of Altamira and the 
 Duke of Medina Cceli ; and these latter were the tallest 
 and finest of the troop; the first, El Jounalero, a really 
 superb animal, and the other of equal size and younger, 
 showed the fire, the slight fetlock, and arched neck of 
 the Arabian breed. 
 
 The Diplomatic Corps was at that time composed of 
 the Spanish and Roman Ambassadors, the Ministers of 
 Denmark, Sweden, Baden, and Hesse Cassel; the Dutch 
 Ambassador, M. Schimmelpening, celebrated for his beau- 
 tiful and most courteous wife; Ambassadors from the 
 Cisalpine and Ligurian Republics, and a Swiss Min- 
 ister. 
 
 Prussia, still desirous of an accommodation with us, 
 had, in October, 1800, dispatched M. Lucchesini on a 
 special mission, but his credentials as Minister Plenipo- 
 tentiary were not presented till 1801 or 1802; he re- 
 mained but a few years with us, and after the campaign 
 of Jena returned no more to France. The First Consul 
 disliked him, and accused him of intriguing. 
 
 "Not that he entraps me," said Bonaparte; but he 
 willingly would, and that offends me. If those who ne- 
 gotiate with me did but know how much more surely 
 their tortuous path tends to ruining themselves than 
 to misleading me, they would choose a straighter 
 road. B 
 
 An attention which M. Lucchesini hoped would work 
 wonders was, on the contrary, displeasing to the First 
 Consul, and threw the foreign diplomatist into a dilemma 
 from which he could never recover, because he was long 
 unconscious of it; this was haranguing the First Consul in 
 Italian on delivering his credentials. Bonaparte had a 
 strong objection to being addressed in Italian; he was, 
 and chose to be, a Frenchman.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 371 
 
 Soon after this the Congress of Luneville gave us 
 peace with Austria, and that of Amiens with England. 
 Russia also became our ally, and all this within less than 
 a year. These are delightful recollections, and again I 
 exclaim, Oh, what a time was that! 
 
 CHAPTER LI. 
 
 Revival of the Public Prosperity — Destruction of the Bands of Rob- 
 bers — M. Dubois, Prefect of Police — The Exhibition of 1800 — 
 David and the Picture of the Sabines — Girodet, and the Vengeance 
 of an Artist — The Satirical Picture of Danae — Gerard — Belisarius 
 and the Portrait of Moreau — The King of Spain's Pistols given to 
 General Moreau — Remarkable Words of Napoleon — Moreau's 
 Distrust of him — Napoleon's Popularity. 
 
 I have already observed with what rapidity General 
 Bonaparte had succeeded in consolidating a corps, 
 which every day acquired new strength and stability. 
 All who surrounded him, it must be acknowledged, lent 
 their aid with a persevering ability, of which he could 
 thoroughly appreciate the advantage. Every day brought 
 news of the seizure of some fresh band of brigands, 
 robbers of diligences, forgers, or false coiners; the latter 
 especially were very numerous. 
 
 Dubois, the Prefect of Police, was extremely zealous 
 and active in discovering the guilty, and such as under 
 futile political pretexts disturbed the public tranquillity; 
 he was inestimable in his place, and Napoleon, who un- 
 doubtedly knew how to discern and to employ the men 
 who would answer his purpose, took care not to remove 
 him from his office till after the fire at Prince Schwartzen- 
 burg's ball. 
 
 Not only were all the interior wheels of the State ma- 
 chine beginning to play, but even the arts, that more 
 silent and centrical spring, afforded striking proofs of the 
 reviving prosperity of France. The Exhibition was this 
 year particularly good. Gue"rin, David, Gerard, Girodet, 
 and a powerful assemblage of talent, excited by that 
 emulation which the fire of genius always inspires, pro- 
 duced works which will hereafter raise our school to an
 
 372 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 elevated rank. The picture of the Sabines and of Marcus 
 Sextus, besides several portraits, adorned the list of 
 paintings for the year 1800. 
 
 I will here notice some circumstances connected with 
 them worth preserving, and not recorded in the journals. 
 The first is somewhat unworthy of the talent of David. 
 On some frivolous pretense, instead of sending his <( Rape 
 of the Sabines * to the Salon, he privately exhibited it 
 on payment of a franc, to the peril and danger of Pari- 
 sian mothers, who, as was observed in a pretty little 
 vaudeville which appeared at the time, dared not take 
 their daughters with them. 
 
 Girodet was then in the full vigor of his genius, and 
 united with it a mind of a superior order; but he was 
 irascible and passionate, of which this year afforded an 
 instance capable of tarnishing his high character. 
 
 He had painted the portrait of a female celebrated for 
 her beauty and dramatic talents, and some discussion 
 arising respecting the payment, the husband imprudently 
 indulged in some very disparaging expressions, which 
 were repeated to the enraged artist, who, disfiguring the 
 portrait with a knife, returned it with an intimation that 
 the lady might dispose as she pleased both of it and its 
 stipulated price, as he should pay himself in his own way. 
 If Girodet had confined himself to the threat, which was 
 intended no doubt to alarm the parties, all would have 
 been well, but he went further, and was wrong in so 
 doing. 
 
 The Salon was to be open for some days to come ; with 
 a! rapidity difficult to conceive, he painted and caused to 
 be placed at the Exhibition a picture of extraordinary 
 merit, representing the interior of a garret. In one 
 corner was a miserable bedstead, covered with a wretched 
 mattress and a blanket full of holes ; on this lay a young 
 and beautiful maiden, with a headdress of peacock's 
 feathers, having no other clothing than a tunic of gauze, 
 through which were seen a pair of legs of gigantic thick- 
 ness. She held this dress with her two hands to catch 
 a shower of gold that fell from the roof of the garret. 
 Near the bed was a lamp, whose dazzling brightness 
 attracted a crowd of butterflies, who all found their de- 
 struction in the traitorous light. Beneath the bedstead 
 was seen an enormous turkey, stretching forth one of his
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 373 
 
 feet, on the toe of which was a wedding ring. In an 
 obscure corner of the room was an old woman, dressed 
 like a beggar, resembling perfectly a decrepit wretch 
 who was often seen asking alms at the gate of the Palais 
 Royal, and who, it was said, was the mother of the 
 original in the cut picture, and of whom there was a 
 striking likeness in the recumbent Danae. Other 
 allusions in the picture were equally remarkable, 
 among them a frog swelling itself to an unnatural 
 size, etc. 
 
 From the first moment of its exhibition this picture 
 attracted the undivided curiosity of the visitors; but 
 whether Girodet ( who afterward testified some regret for 
 the extremity to which his resentment had been carried ) 
 relented, or whatever the cause, the picture was in a few 
 days withdrawn. 
 
 A piece of a different kind, and the principal orna- 
 ment of the Salon, was Gerard's portrait of General 
 Moreau. The hand which portrayed Belisarius and Psych6 
 was there distinctly traceable. It was a chef-d'ceuvre. 
 Not only was the resemblance perfect, but it seemed to 
 possess a soul. It was not color laid on canvas, it was 
 animate; it was General Moreau himself who looked 
 upon you. 
 
 The position, too, was admirably chosen. It would 
 have been easy and natural to represent him in full ac- 
 tion, with all the splendid appendages of military cos- 
 tume, for assuredly Moreau has more than once headed 
 his troops in the hour of danger; but he was habitually 
 calm and reflective; this, therefore, was the expression 
 Gerard judiciously selected, and the dress and attitude 
 were in keeping. Judging by other works of Gerard, 
 this will probably always retain the beauty of its color- 
 ing. 
 
 Independently of his professional talent, GeYard was 
 eminently gifted, and all his compositions are full of 
 mind. His Belisarius is admirable; there are but two 
 persons, an infant and an old man, but no circumstance 
 is omitted that can excite interest in favor of the old 
 Roman general. In the background of that gray head 
 stamped by Justinian with the anathema of mendicity, is 
 seen only a desert, and a scorching yet stormy horizon. 
 The features of his youthful guide already exhibit the
 
 374 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 livid paleness of death. Belisarius is thus alone with the 
 agony of death on a narrow path, at the brink of a preci- 
 pice: one step and he must fall. His arm, which ad- 
 vances a useless staff, seems to start from the canvas; 
 he is abandoned by all Nature. 
 
 The portrait of Moreau reminds me of an anecdote con- 
 cerning him, which occurred at that time, and was after- 
 ward related to me by Junot, who was an eye witness. 
 "When the rupture of the armistice in Italy and Germany 
 was foreseen, General Moreau came to Paris to receive 
 the orders of Government. He arrived at ten in the 
 morning of the 17th of October, and instantly, without even 
 changing his boots, went to the Tuileries. The First 
 Consul was at the time in the Council of State, but as 
 soon as he heard of General Moreau's arrival he hastened 
 to hold a conference with him. 
 
 While he was in the salon, the Minister of the Interior, 
 Lucien Bonaparte, happened to enter, bringing a pair of 
 pistols of extremely fine and curious workmanship, which 
 Boutet had just completed by order of the Directory as 
 a present for the King of Spain. They were valuable, 
 both for the skill the artist had applied to their construc- 
 tion and for a great quantity of diamonds and precious 
 stones with which they were embellished. (< These arms 
 come very apropos, B said the First Consul, presenting 
 them to General Moreau with that smile which could 
 win hearts of stone — (< General Moreau will do me 
 the favor to accept them as a mark of the esteem and 
 gratitude of the French nation." 
 
 <( Citizen Minister, B added Bonaparte, turning toward 
 his brother, w have some of the battles of General Mo- 
 reau engraved on the pistols, but not all ; we must leave 
 some room for diamonds. Not because the General at- 
 taches much value to them ; I know that his Republican 
 virtue disdains such baubles, but we must not altogether 
 derange the design of Boutet. B 
 
 Methinks, after such expressions, Moreau might have 
 placed confidence in the friendship Bonaparte offered 
 him. Why should the First Consul have flattered him? 
 Why, especially, should he at that time have offered 
 him a hand which was not sincerely friendly? Was it to 
 flatter the popularity of Moreau? At this period the 
 popularity of Bonaparte was far superior to his. Hohen-
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 375 
 
 linden was not then gained, and even after that brilliant 
 victory Napoleon had no cause to dread a rival in the 
 hearts of Frenchmen ; at this period he was really be- 
 loved. 
 
 CHAPT ER LII 
 
 The Eastern Queen at the Comedie Francaise — Pauline and Her Por- 
 trait — The Young Sempstress of M. de Sales — Marriage of Con- 
 venience, and the Army of Egypt — Cavalcade of Asses — Dinner 
 at General Dupuy's, and the Wife without Her Husband — The Cup 
 of Coffee and the Orange — Bonaparte, Berthier, and the Husband 
 Ambassador — An English Tour — Gallantry of Kleber — Good- 
 ness of Desgenettes — Return to France, and the Divorce — Dread 
 of Scandal, and the Wife with Two Husbands — Saint Helena, and 
 Admirable Conduct. 
 
 I was one day at the Comedie Francaise with my hus- 
 band, attentively listening to Talma in the part of 
 Orestes, when Junot, touching my arm, told me to 
 look attentively at a young woman he was about to 
 salute, and who was seated between Berthier's box and 
 our own. 
 
 My eye followed his salute, and I saw a woman of 
 about twenty-two or twenty-three years of age, florid as 
 a young girl of fifteen, and of a gay and agreeable coun- 
 tenance. Her flaxen hair formed the only ornament of 
 her head. She was wrapped in a magnificent white cash- 
 mere shawl, with an embroidered border, and appeared 
 to be en ne'glige'. She returned Junot's salute with an 
 air of acquaintance which surprised me, and I inquired 
 her name. 
 
 (< It is Pauline," said he, "our Eastern Queen. w He 
 had already mentioned Madame Foures to me, to caution 
 me against the indiscretion of naming her before Madame 
 Bonaparte. <( This, then, is Madame Foures, " said I, and 
 instantly put to him all the inquiries one woman will 
 make concerning another woman whom she sees for the 
 first time. He told me she had natural wit, and a desire 
 of distinction, but a total ignorance of the manners of 
 the world, that is to say, of good and elegant man- 
 ners.
 
 376 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 w I like her much," said Junot; (< she is kind-hearted, 
 simple, and unaffected, always disposed to join in mirth, 
 and still more ready to oblige. I have a friendship for 
 her, and hope to prove it; but there are, about the per- 
 son of the First Consul, men who were at her feet in 
 Egypt, and have since refused to know her, and repulsed 
 her in the little intercourse she has been obliged to hold 
 with them. Duroc, who has honor and a feeling heart, 
 told me that the poor young creature knew not what 
 would have become of her had she not opportunely met 
 with him to convey a letter for her to General Bonaparte. 
 She is no longer in want of anything, and this is no 
 more than a debt which the First Consul owes to a 
 woman whom he has sincerely loved. B 
 
 I afterward learned a variety of particulars relating 
 to Madame Foures, and as she was long attached to the 
 fate of Napoleon, and gave him in adversity proofs of 
 gratitude and interest, I think it best to insert here all 
 that I know of her. 
 
 Pauline was born at Carcassone. Her father was a 
 gentleman, but her mother either a chambermaid or 
 cook. The education of the young daughter partook of 
 the mixed rank to which she owed her birth ; she received 
 some instruction, and finally went out to work. She 
 was one of the prettiest girls in the town, and perfectly 
 virtuous. My friends, M. and Madame de Sales, showed 
 her a kindness, which her conduct justified, and treated 
 her more like a child of their own than a workwoman, 
 for her conduct was most exemplary. 
 
 She recited M. de Sales's verses, and sang with taste, 
 and it was here principally that her beauty acquired her 
 the surname of Bellilotte. 
 
 The son of a retired merchant named Foures was 
 charmed by that pretty Hebe face and the fame which 
 attended it; he paid his addresses to her, but as he was 
 far from agreeable she hesitated for some time; an ac- 
 cidental introduction to the table of M. de Sales, to 
 entertain his guests with her singing, and the impression 
 she was sensible of having made there, induced her to 
 consult M. de Sales on the subject of the marriage. (< M. 
 Foures offers me the advantage of a fortune, w said she, 
 <( moderate, it is true, but independent. I think I will 
 accept him," and shortly after she married him.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 377 
 
 The intended Egyptian expedition was soon announced 
 at Carcassone, and Foures, who had seen service, willing 
 to answer the national appeal to all the retired officers 
 capable of bearing- arms, set out for Toulon, the general 
 rendezvous. He tenderly loved his young bride, and 
 made her the companion of his journey, while her adven- 
 turous spirit wished for nothing better than to share all 
 danger and fatigue with her husband. She put on male 
 attire therefore, and they arrived in Egypt; it is not true 
 that Napoleon had seen her in France, or that he had 
 dressed her as a naval aspirant on board the (< Orient, w 
 as I have read in a foolish book, whose author has col- 
 lected together all the most absurd falsehoods respecting 
 Napoleon. 
 
 When at Cairo, the General-in-Chief was one day rid- 
 ing, followed by a numerous staff, to attend a sort of 
 fair about a league from the town, when the party was 
 detained on the road by a troop of asses, commonly 
 used for the saddle in that country. They were mounted 
 by officers and some of their wives. General Bonaparte, 
 who is well known to have had a quick eye, was struck 
 by a passing glimpse of a female face, yet he pursued 
 his route without a hint of the circumstance. 
 
 The next day Madame Foures received an invitation to 
 dine with General Dupuy, Commandant of the city, who 
 had with him a Madame Dupuy, and the invitation was 
 sent in her name as well as his. "It is singular, w said 
 Foures, (< that I am not invited with my wife, for I am 
 an officer. He was a lieutenant in the 2 2d Chasseurs a 
 Cheval. He, however, allowed his wife to go, strongly 
 recommending her to make it understood that she had 
 a husband, a fact already but too well known. Madame 
 Foures was most politely received. The dinner party 
 was select, and everything passed off quietly, and with- 
 out the smallest indication of what was to follow; but at 
 the moment coffee was about to be served, a great com- 
 motion was heard in the house, the folding doors hastily 
 opened, and the General-in-Chief appeared. 
 
 Dupuy made many apologies for being found at table, 
 and pressed a cup of coffee upon Napoleon, which he ac- 
 cepted. He was taciturn, and fixed his attention on the 
 young Frenchwoman, who, blushing crimson, dared not 
 raise her eyes, and grew momentarily more and more
 
 37S MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUXOT 
 
 dismayed at finding- herself so obviously an object of at- 
 tention to a man whose great name was already the 
 theme of the world. The General-in-Chief refreshed him- 
 self with an orange and a cup of coffee, and then took 
 his leave, without having addressed a single word to Ma- 
 dame Foures, but also without having once taken his 
 eyes off her. 
 
 A few days after Foures was sent for by Berthier. 
 (( My dear Foures," said the Chief of the Staff, putting 
 into his hands a voluminous packet, <( more fortunate 
 than any of us, you are about to revisit France. The 
 General-in-Chief has had reports of you which inspire 
 him with such perfect confidence that he sends you 
 to Europe as the bearer of dispatches to the Directory. 
 You are to set out within an hour; here is an order to the 
 Commander of the port of Alexandria. Adieu, my dear 
 fellow ; I wish I were in your place. B 
 
 (< But I must go and apprize my wife, that she may 
 make her preparations, w said Foures, recovering at length 
 from the stupefaction he had been thrown into by a fa- 
 vor which he received with instinctive doubts. He was, 
 however, dissuaded by unanswerable arguments, from 
 carrying his wife with him; and Berthier affected sym- 
 pathy with his distress at the necessary separation. 
 
 Foures, amid his grief, was tolerably self-satisfied; 
 for, inconceivable as were the singular favors which had 
 sought him out in his obscurity, we all have a reserve 
 of vanity to assist us in comprehending what is incom- 
 prehensible ; and before he reached his lodging Foures 
 had discovered within himself many reasons to explain 
 the General's choice. His wife, who understood them 
 rather better, took leave of him, <( with a tear in her 
 eye, 9 and the good lieutenant, embarking, sailed for 
 France. At that period it was more easy to embark for 
 France than it was to land there. The English were on 
 the alert, and no sooner was a sail descried on the surface 
 of the ocean than twenty grappling irons fell pounce 
 upon it, and it was carried — God knows where. 
 
 Foures's small vessel shared the common fate of those 
 which left the ports of Egypt; it was taken, and himself 
 searched even to his shirt for the important papers he 
 was supposed to have concealed ; but on examining those 
 which his utmost address could not withhold, the English
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 379 
 
 captain found them to contain nothing but well known 
 particulars which he remembered to have seen osten- 
 tatiously published in the <( Moniteur* from a previous dis- 
 patch that had had the good fortune to escape. 
 
 This gentleman, vastly polite and accommodating, 
 inquired of the lieutenant ambassador where he would 
 choose to be landed. He was himself bound for Mahon ; 
 from thence he sailed to the Molucca Islands; thence on 
 a grand tour in the Pacific, or toward the Pole, depend- 
 ing on the instructions he might find at Macao; finally, 
 he would very probably revisit the waters of the Nile; 
 and if M. le Lieutenant preferred a residence on the 
 coast during this little tour, he, a captain in the service 
 of his Brittanic Majesty, was quite at his command. 
 Poor Fourks timidly asked if he could not return whence 
 he came. 
 
 "For,* observed he, very judiciously, "now that I am 
 but an empty mail, what end would it answer to absent 
 myself from my wife ? Let me return to Cairo. * The 
 English captain, who, among other circumstantial 
 intelligence from the interior of Egypt, was pretty well 
 acquainted with the affairs of Madame Foures and the 
 General-in-Chief, landed the good lieutenant according to 
 his desire, with great politeness and apparent cordiality, 
 and wished him good luck. Foures hastened to embrace 
 his Bellilotte, but Bellilotte was no longer beautiful for 
 him; he found his lodging deserted, and, his affection 
 being sincere, the poor fellow's consternation and mis- 
 ery were proportionate. His wife was easily found; 
 she inhabited an hotel close to that of the General; 
 and being persecuted with his entreaties to return, she 
 obtained a divorce pronounced by Commissary-General 
 Sartelon. 
 
 Napoleon was much attached to Madame Foures, who 
 possessed every qualification calculated to attach him — 
 qualifications still more brilliantly attractive in a distant 
 and barbarous country, where the rest of her sex within 
 reach were of a station and character from whom Bona- 
 parte would not so much as have thought of seeking a 
 companion. In Pauline he found an active and ardent 
 imagination, an affectionate disposition, abundance of 
 native humor, and a mind cultivated without pedantry. 
 
 Perfectly unaffected and disinterested, she was all
 
 380 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 tenderness and devotion. Combining with so many at- 
 tractions a captivating exterior, Bellilotte could not fail 
 of being beloved by a man to whom pretension, affecta- 
 tion and self-interest were odious in women. 
 
 She was as full of fun and gayety as a girl of twelve, 
 and Napoleon often joked her upon this gayety, and upon 
 the laughing he had heard in the donkey adventure on 
 the road to Boulac. Her situation threw her into fre- 
 quent contact with the inferior agents of the commis- 
 sariat and military treasury, and Bonaparte would often 
 laughingly joke her upon her intimacies with them; but 
 had he believed such things he would never have men- 
 tioned them, even in jest, and she gave him in reality 
 no cause of complaint. 
 
 When Napoleon determined on quitting Egypt she 
 alone was apprised of so important a resolution. With 
 much grief she was convinced of the impossibility of 
 following him through the chances of a dangerous jour- 
 ney. <( I may be taken, w said he, when in tears she pe- 
 titioned to attend him, promising to brave every difficulty, 
 a promise she would religiously have observed — <( I may 
 may be taken by the English ; my honor must be dear to 
 you: and what would they say to find a woman at my 
 elbow ? B After his departure, Egypt was to her but a 
 vast desert. Napoleon left orders with Kleber to ship 
 off, with as little delay as possible, certain persons whom 
 he named. I have already reported how these orders 
 were executed with respect to my husband and brother- 
 in-law. Poor Bellilotte met with no better fate, and be- 
 ing a woman, felt it more acutely. 
 
 Kleber, who in spite of a stature of six feet, and great 
 military talent, was sometimes mean and pitiful in his 
 notions, delighted in the power of tyrannizing over a 
 woman who had been the mistress of Bonaparte, and in 
 preventing his friends from joining him; but Desgenettes, 
 ever ready to assist the unhappy, conceiving the distress 
 of Madame Foures, deprived of her defender, and exposed 
 to the vengeance of a man who loved her, and whose 
 jealousy must produce vexatious, perhaps dangerous con- 
 sequences, came to her assistance, and interposed so 
 effectually with Kleber for the delivery of the passport 
 that Madame Foures immediately obtained it and sailed for 
 France, where she found her Egyptian friend in cir-
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 381 
 
 cumstances which gave him new claims on her affec- 
 tion. 
 
 Napoleon was, however, but newly reconciled to Joseph- 
 ine, and was too deeply immersed in serious and im- 
 portant labors to admit of any distraction. Though 
 indifferent to Josephine, his attachment for her had once 
 been sufficient to enable her to replace, in his imagination 
 at least, a connection that might have afforded him happi- 
 ness. Bellilotte was therefore discarded: from Duroc, 
 who was especially charged with the disposal of her fate, 
 I know the internal struggles which this decision cost 
 Napoleon; but her name was Josephine's most effective 
 weapon in all her domestic quarrels, and she would have 
 allowed him neither peace nor respite had she once 
 learned that Madame Foures had a house in Paris. 
 Napoleon, anxious above all things to avoid publicity, 
 recommended a house out of town. And Pauline, ever 
 resigned to the wishes of him she loved, hired or pur- 
 chased a cottage at Belleville near the Pre-Saint Gervais, 
 where she lived at the time Junot pointed her out to me 
 at the Comddie. 
 
 Foures also returned from Egypt, and the divorce pro- 
 nounced abroad being invalid at home unless confirmed 
 within a limited time, which had now elapsed, he reclaimed 
 his wife, who refused his demand; and long and angry 
 debates arose, which, reaching the ears of the First Con- 
 sul, he with some harshness ordered the unfortunate wife 
 to marry again. An opportunity .offered in the person 
 of M. Ramchouppe, who was enamored of her; and Bona- 
 parte promised a consulate on the conclusion of the match. 
 She consulted her old patron, M. de Sales, who was now 
 practicing with credit as an advocate at Paris, and who 
 still entertained a warm friendship for Bellilotte as well 
 as for Foures. She finally determined, contrary to his 
 judgment, to marry M. Ramchouppe, and set out with her 
 new husband for his consulate. 
 
 For many years nothing was heard from her; but on 
 learning the captivity of Napoleon, the noble and exalted 
 soul of Pauline rose superior to fear and prejudice. She 
 realized part of her remaining property, and sailed from 
 port to port, anxiously watching an opportunity to go to 
 Saint Helena and to attempt the deliverance of him who
 
 382 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 had ever been dear to her as her best friend, and who 
 personified the glory of her country. 
 
 Her plan was some time organizing, and no sooner 
 was it completed than Napoleon's death crushed all her 
 hopes. Pauline was in Brazil when the news reached 
 her; where she may be now I know not, but in what- 
 ever quarter of the globe, should this book meet her 
 eye, I could wish that it may convey to her the expres- 
 sion of my admiration and gratitude for a feeble woman, 
 whose courage and feeling prompted an undertaking 
 which men had not heart enough even to attempt. 
 
 CHAPTER LIII. 
 
 Awakening and Nocturnal Sally of Junot — The Adjutant Laborde — 
 Chevalier's Machine — Accomplices and Informers — Attempts 
 against the First Consul's Life — Difficult Arrest — The Madmen — 
 Conspiracies — Secrets imparted to Caffarelli — Lavoisier — Poverty 
 a Bad Counselor — The Rule and Its Exceptions — Description 
 of the Machine — Maxim of the First Consul — The Military Family. 
 
 Some days after my marriage I found Junot depressed 
 and abstracted, visiting the Prefect of Police several 
 times a day, often awakened in the night by an old 
 adjutant called Laborde, who came to make reports, 
 which seemed to be of great importance ; he once got up 
 at three o'clock in the morning, dressed himself, and 
 sallied out on foot with this man, although the cold was 
 excessive, and he had been suffering all day with a 
 violent headache, which had entirely deprived him of 
 appetite. But the interests at stake were very dear, and 
 all else was forgotten. 
 
 At length, on the 7th of November, he appeared more 
 calm, and told me that the First Consul had just escaped 
 a danger which must have been followed by the most 
 disastrous consequences; for not only must the plan, if 
 executed, have succeeded, but all the neighboring inhab- 
 itants would have been its victims. This was the infer- 
 nal machine of Chevalier, a prelude to the conspiracy of 
 the 23d of December. Chevalier, whose name is almost the 
 only one connected with this affair, was far from being its
 
 DUCHESS OF ARRANTES 383 
 
 sole contriver. Men named Bousquet, Gombaud-Lachaise, 
 Desforge, GueYauld, and a Madame Bucquet, were ar- 
 rested at the same time, and, with Chevalier, confined in 
 the temple. This machine, which Chevalier was con- 
 structing, was seized in a chamber which he shared with 
 a man named Veycer, in a house called the house of the 
 Blancs-Manteaux. He had left his former lodging because 
 the police were in search of him. 
 
 Veycer, his fellow laborer, was at first his comrade, 
 and afterward, whether through remorse or by means of 
 bribery, was induced to assist in his arrest. It was ap- 
 prehended that Chevalier, finding himself lost, might in a 
 moment of despair set fire to the combustibles around 
 him and blow up with himself the house and all that it 
 contained. Veycer's business was to prevent this, but 
 Chevalier, as was natural to the part he was playing, 
 was extremely suspicious. On retiring to rest he fas- 
 tened his door with an oaken bar, and had always at 
 hand a pair of excellent and well-loaded pistols; all this 
 his bedfellow was aware of, and was not unmindful of 
 his own safety. 
 
 On the eve of Chevalier's arrest the progress of his 
 machine was at a standstill for want of money ; and Bous- 
 quet, who appears to have been hitherto the banker of the 
 diabolical enterprise, was equally without funds. Veycer was 
 dispatched in quest of money, which, of course, was not 
 difficult to procure, as only six or eight francs were 
 wanted. He brought them late at night, so that nothing 
 could be undertaken till the morning. 
 
 Chevalier's confidence in his comrade (whose real name 
 was not Veycer, and whom I shall simply call his com- 
 rade) was strengthened by this new service, and he slept 
 amid fusees and cartridges as tranquilly as if sur- 
 rounded by roses. 
 
 The comrade had little difficulty in persuading him not 
 to burn a light, so that the room was in perfect dark- 
 ness, and to this circumstance he owed his safety; for, 
 on hearing the first shake of the door by the police 
 agents, he sprang forward to remove the bar that op- 
 posed them, and Chevalier, perceiving that he was 
 betrayed, fired a pistol, which lodged its contents in the 
 wall, but would not have missed his comrade had there 
 been a lisfht.
 
 3S4 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 This arrest took place at two in the morning of the 
 7th of November, a date impressed on my memory by 
 the circumstance that, had my mother's intended ball that 
 evening taken place, with so many of those wretches about 
 the town who went by the name of the madmen, and had 
 been agitating for three months past, the probable con- 
 sequences of their learning that the First Consul was 
 about to spend a part of the night, unguarded, at a 
 private house, where, on entering or returning, his per- 
 son was so much more accessible than amid the crowds 
 that surround a public spectacle, could not but make both 
 my mother and myself shudder. 
 
 The sect called the Enrages was composed of the very 
 dregs of the worst days of the Revolution. The cleverest 
 of them, and their ringleader, was one Moses Bayle, for- 
 merly a Conventionalist, who headed the attempt on the 
 vaults of the Tuileries, opposite the ]^igicr baths, when 
 the first grating yielded; but the second, having a stronger 
 lock, set force at defiance. The same party, under the 
 same leader, attempted to assassinate the First Consul 
 before the affair of Ceracchi and Arena. This conspiracy, 
 which had been framed almost unknown to the police, 
 so completely were its authors protected by their insig- 
 nificance, was discovered by an honest man whom they 
 would willingly have made an accomplice; but, revolting 
 at the enormity of the project, he sought out General 
 Caffarelli, aid-de-camp to the First Consul, and revealed 
 to him the whole affair. This man's name owes its 
 preservation chiefly to its similarity to one of great celeb- 
 rity, Lavoisier. 
 
 Paris was at this time infested with swarms of par- 
 doned Chouans, and other vagabonds of all descriptions, 
 who conspired against the First Consul's life, not for the 
 sake of liberty, but because so terrible a catastrophe 
 would throw all Paris into confusion, and enable them 
 to repeat the horrors of the 10th of August and 2d of 
 September. But it was the opinion both of Junot and 
 Fouche\ who agreed on this point alone, that other heads 
 controlled, and other counsels animated the machinations 
 of which these illiterate and half-armed banditti were 
 made to appear the sole contrivers. Since the First Consul 
 had been in power more than ten obscure conspira- 
 cies had been discovered, and he, with the same great-
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 385 
 
 ness of mind which never afterward deserted him, 
 enjoined the authorities not to divulge them. 
 
 (< They would lead the nation to suppose that the State 
 is not tranquil, nor must we allow foreigners this mo- 
 mentary triumph ; they would easily take advantage of 
 it, and it shall not be. w 
 
 I heard the whole history of Chevalier's affair from 
 the old adjutant Laborde, who came the next morning 
 to relate it to Junot; and also from Doucet, Chief of the 
 Staff of Paris. The little machine was brought for 
 Junot's inspection. It was a small cask filled with squibs, 
 and balls containing seven or eight pounds of powder. 
 It was bound at each extremity with two hoops of iron, 
 and near the middle was introduced a gun barrel, having 
 the trigger strongly attached to the cask with pieces of 
 iron. This infernal machine was to have been placed 
 in the road of the First Consul. Fireworks were to have 
 been thrown in all directions to increase the disorder; 
 while chevanx-de-frise, manufactured by a locksmith, who 
 was taken into ciistody, being placed in the adjacent 
 streets, were to prevent the arrival of troops, and thus 
 give time to men, capable of so diabolical a conception, 
 to commit their meditated crimes. 
 
 Junot especially directed me not to mention this affair 
 to any of my mother's associates ; and so well did I obey 
 his instructions that my mother knew nothing of the 
 matter till the 23d of December. I soon, indeed, accus- 
 tomed myself to hear almost mechanically matters of 
 the utmost importance discussed; a habit that was com- 
 mon to me as well as to all the young wives of my 
 time, whose husbands were continually about the Chief 
 of the State, or engaged in highly confidential transac- 
 tions. 
 
 The first time that I dined at the Tuileries, I was 
 placed as a bride next to the First Consul; the Duchess 
 de Montebello, then Madame Lannes, was seated on the 
 other side; it was about a week after this discovery; he 
 asked me if I had mentioned it to my mother. I 
 answered, (< No, for I was unwilling to give her uneasi- 
 ness; and besides, w added I, <( Junot tells me such things 
 must be talked of as little as possible. n (< Junot is right, w 
 added he ; (( I myself have recommended it to him. It is 
 now no secret, as beyond a doubt the arrest of Chevalier 
 25
 
 386 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 is pretty generally known; but I do not wish expla- 
 nations, sought for more from curiosity than interest, by 
 persons sp nearly connected with me as Junot. w And he 
 added, "As for you, Madame Junot, now that you make 
 a part of the family of my staff, you must see, hear, 
 and forget ( vous devez tout voir, tout e?ite?idre, et tout 
 oublicr). Have this device engraved on a seal. But I 
 remember that you can keep a secret. * ( He alluded to 
 the affair of Salicetti.) 
 
 CHAPTER LIV. 
 
 Garat, and the Ridiculous Cravats — Haydn's Oratorio — Brilliant As- 
 semblage at the Opera — Junot's Dinner with Berthier, the 23d of 
 December — General Security and Extraordinary Noise — The First 
 Consul at the Opera, and Duroc at the Door of My Box — The Infer- 
 nal Machine — M. Diestrich, Aid -de-Camp to Vandamme — Return 
 from the Opera — My Presence at the Tuileries the Evening of the 23d 
 of December — Remarkable Scenes — Danger of Madame Bonaparte 
 — Involuntary Tears — Correct Details Relative to the Infernal Ma- 
 chine — Exaggeration of the Number of Victims — Junot's Coachman, 
 and the Danger Avoided — Agreement of Fouche and Junot — Junot's 
 Nightmare — My Life in Danger. 
 
 My mother's health was strikingly improved since my 
 marriage. Contrary to my brother's inclinations, 
 as well as mine, she had called in a new physician, 
 named Vigaroux, the son of a skillful surgeon of Mont- 
 pellier, and he seemed to work wonders. He engaged to 
 cure her in six months, and she was surely enough re- 
 lieved from pain. She dined with me, went to plays, 
 was going about on visits the whole morning, and, far 
 from feeling fatigued, she was the better for all this 
 exertion. 
 
 Garat, one .of my mother's oldest and most assiduous 
 acquaintances, came one day to entreat our attendance 
 at the Opera on the 23d of December to hear Haydn's 
 fine oratorio of the (< Creation, n which he, jointly with 
 Steibelt, had arranged, and in which he was to take a 
 part. My mother, who was passionately fond of good 
 music and of Garat's singing, readily promised a com- 
 pliance. She was to sit in my box; and as Junot dined
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 387 
 
 with Berthier, the new Minister of War, it was settled 
 that I should dine with her ready dressed, and Junot 
 would join us after dinner. 
 
 My toilet completed for the evening, I entered the 
 carriage with my brother-in-law, and we found my mother 
 beautiful, gay, and enchanting. She was splendidly 
 dressed in black velvet and diamonds, and no one would 
 have supposed her of the age of sixty-two. 
 
 We dined early; my mother ordered her horses while 
 we took coffee, and we set out immediately afterward. 
 It was seven when we arrived at the Opera. The house 
 was crowded, and being well lighted, and the ladies in 
 full dress, the spectacle was very brilliant. 
 
 We distinguished Garat with his opera glass in his hand 
 earnestly surveying the boxes to recognize his acquaint- 
 ances; and though eight o'clock at night, he sought to 
 catch a gleam of Aurora. He was more ridiculously 
 dressed than usual ; no very easy matter. His coat collar 
 stood higher than his head, and his rather monkeyish 
 face was difficult to discern between ells of muslin by 
 way of cravat below and a forest of curls above. 
 
 The instruments were tuned, and this immense orchestra, 
 more numerous than I had ever seen it before was pre- 
 paring to render Haydn's chef-d'oeuvre more perfectly 
 than he had ever the gratification of hearing it himself. 
 
 Junot found my mother and me in high spirits, occu- 
 pied in looking round this magnificent house, and return- 
 ing the friendly and smiling salutations of our acquaintance. 
 He was himself in a peculiar state of mind. Berthier 
 had been repeating to him a conversation he had held 
 with the First Consul respecting Junot; and his words 
 were so full of kindness and friendship that Junot was 
 sensibly affected, and his eyes watered, while happiness 
 played in smiles on his lips. 
 
 Scarcely were thirty bars of the oratorio played be- 
 fore a violent explosion was heard, like the report of a 
 cannon. 
 
 <( What means that ? w said Junot with emotion. He 
 opened the box door, and looked about for one of his 
 officers or aids-de-camp. (< It is strange ! w said he. 
 <( How can the guns be fired at this hour ? Besides, I 
 should have known it! Give me my hat, • said he to my 
 brother ; <( I will go and see what it is. B Instantly Chev-
 
 388 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 alier's machine occurred to me, and I seized the flaps 
 of Junot's coat, but he looked angrily at me, and im- 
 patiently snatched it from. my grasp. 
 
 At this moment the door of the First Consul's box 
 opened and himself appeared, with General Lannes, 
 Berthier, and Duroc. He smilingly saluted the immense 
 crowds, who mingled frantic yells of pleasure with their 
 acclamations. 
 
 Madame Bonaparte followed in a few seconds, accom- 
 panied by Colonel Rapp, Madame Murat (who was near 
 her confinement), and Mademoiselle Beauharnais. Junot 
 was re-entering the box to convince himself of the First 
 Consul's serenity, which I had just remarked upon, when 
 Duroc presented himself with a discomposed countenance 
 and an excited air. He spoke in whispers to Junot, and 
 we heard nothing of his communication; but at night 
 Junot repeated it to me. (< I love Duroc; he is almost as 
 much attached to the First Consul as Marmont and my- 
 self. » 
 
 Du'roc's words sufficiently explained the disturbed con- 
 dition in which he appeared. (< The First Consul has just 
 escaped death," said he hastily to Junot; (< go to him; he 
 wishes to speak to you, but be calm. It is impossible 
 the event should remain unknown here a quarter of an 
 hour; but he wishes to avoid being himself the means of 
 spreading such intelligence ; so come with me and let me 
 lean on your arm, for I tremble all over. My first battle 
 agitated me less. • 
 
 During the short conference of the two friends the 
 oratorio had commenced; but the fine voices of Mes- 
 dames Brancrru and Walbourne ; and that of Garat, could 
 not absorb the attention of the audience. All eyes were 
 turned toward the First Consul, and he alone at this 
 moment occupied our attention. As I have before ob- 
 served, I had said nothing to my mother of Chevalier's 
 infernal machine ; but my brother-in-law knew the whole 
 affair, and I whispered a word in his ear, to dispatch 
 him in search of news. I felt a presentiment of some 
 misfortune. 
 
 The moment Duroc spoke to Junot the latter turned 
 pale as a specter, and I perceived him raise his hand to 
 his forehead with a gesture of surprise and despair; but, 
 being unwilling to disturb my mother and the people in
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 389 
 
 the adjoining boxes, I contented myself with whispering 
 to Junot to ask for intelligence. But before his return 
 we had heard all. A subdued murmur began to spread 
 from the stage to the orchestra, the pit, and the boxes. 
 <c The First Consul has just been attacked in the Rue 
 Saint Nicaise." 
 
 The truth soon circulated throughout the theater, when 
 simultaneously, and as it were by an electric shock, one 
 iinanimous acclamation was heard. How tumultuous was 
 the agitation which preceded the burst of national resent- 
 ment! for in the first quarter of an hour the nation was 
 represented by that crowd, whose indignation against so 
 foul an attempt no words are capable of expressing. 
 
 Meanwhile I was engaged in observing the First Con- 
 sul's box, which, being immediately below me, enabled 
 me to see and hear nearly all that passed in it. He was 
 calm, and appeared only warmly affected when the gen- 
 eral murmur conveyed to his ear any strong expression 
 of the public feeling. Madame Bonaparte was not equally 
 mistress of her feelings. Her whole frame was agitated; 
 even her attitude, always so graceful, was no longer her 
 own. She seemed to tremble, and to be desirous of 
 sheltering herself under her shawl — the very shawl which 
 had saved her life. She wept: notwithstanding all her 
 efforts to repress her tears, they were seen trickling 
 down her pale cheeks, and when she looked toward the 
 First Consul her shivering fit returned. Her daughter 
 too was greatly upset. As for Madame Murat, the char- 
 acter of the family shone in her demeanor; although her 
 situation might have excused the display of anxiety and 
 distress so natural in the sister of the First Consul, she 
 was, throughout this trying evening, perfectly composed. 
 
 Junot, having received the orders of the First Consul, 
 returned to desire we would not wait for him, and 
 immediately left us upon duty. The Prefect of Police, 
 whose box was next to mine, had long since quitted it 
 and hastened to the Prefecture. When Junot was gone, 
 my mother, who was now acquainted with the whole 
 affair, told me that a young man of a military appear- 
 ance, in the box beside me, had just told the ladies who 
 occupied it that the conspirators had at first intended to 
 lay their train at the door of the Opera, in which case 
 the entire theater would have been blown up; and she
 
 39o MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 desired me to look at him, and tell her whether he were 
 deserving of credit. 
 
 It was M. Diestrich, aid-de-camp to General Van- 
 damme, and the ladies in the box were his mother and 
 sister. I had once seen him at my own house on Junot's 
 reception day, and had met him two days before at 
 General Mortier's. I begged him to tell me whether 
 there was any new misfortune to be dreaded. <( It is 
 difficult," said he, a to answer that question. Death has 
 been averted from the whole assemblage within 
 these walls only by the observance of a general regulation 
 that no carriage of any description shall be suffered to 
 remain at the door of a theater the first night of a new 
 piece. But," added M. Diestrich, lowering his voice, 
 <( none of the authors of this infamous crime are yet 
 arrested; who can answer that a second blow may not be 
 prepared against the First Consul at the moment of his 
 leaving the theater, the first having failed ? As for 
 myself, I am come to fetch my mother and sister, and 
 when -I have seen them safely home I shall return, for 
 the arm of a man is always necessary in a tumult." (< I 
 will go too," said my mother, (< this gentleman is per- 
 fectly right ; give me my shawl, put on your own and let 
 us go;" and she continued urging my departure, and even 
 wrapped me in my furs. 
 
 I knew that my mother would go, but for myself I 
 would fain know Junot's proceedings and keep him in 
 sight. I thought the First Consul's side his most 
 probable station at such a moment. It was not his duty 
 to be running through the narrow alleys of Paris hunting 
 the conspirators from their lurking places, and I might 
 reasonably suppose he would not be far from the Opera 
 house. While I lingered, Junot opened the box door, and 
 hastily said: (< Go with your mother; after setting her 
 down, borrow her carriage to convey you to Madame 
 Bonaparte's; I shall be there, and will take you home;" 
 and away he ran. In spite of the excessive cold he was 
 covered with perspiration. 
 
 My brother-in-law accompanied us, and having set down 
 
 my mother we proceeded to the Tuileries. The First 
 
 ;sul was returned from the Opera, and everything 
 
 appeared as calm as if nothing had happened ; but in the 
 
 salon things wore a different aspect. Several of the
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 391 
 
 authorities were assembled, the Ministers, the Consuls, 
 the Commandant of Paris, General Mortier, Commandant 
 of the Division, etc. The First Consul, who had hitherto 
 appeared indifferent to all the attempts against him, 
 showed this time no indulgence, and he had good reason. 
 
 Madame Bonaparte was quite overpowered; she cried 
 incessantly. Independently of the danger the First 
 Consul had so narrowly escaped, she had herself nearly 
 fallen a victim to the explosion. As she was stepping 
 into the carriage, General Rapp, who was not usually 
 so observant of the perfect agreement of colors in a 
 lady's dress, observed to her that her shawl matched 
 neither her gown nor her jewels. Her perfect elegance 
 in the adjustment of all the accessories of the toilet 
 is well known, and she returned to repair the over- 
 sight. Scarcely did it detain her three minutes, yet 
 these sufficed for separating her carriage from that of 
 the First Consul, which it was to have followed close. 
 This delay saved her! 
 
 The explosion took place just as Madame Bonaparte's 
 carriage reached the Carrousel ; its windows were broken, 
 and pieces of the glass fell on the neck and shoulders of 
 Mademoiselle Beauharnais, who sat on the front seat of 
 the carriage, and her shawl did not protect her from 
 some slight cuts. 
 
 It is well known that the barrel containing the powder 
 and charge (and which resembled those borne by the 
 water carriers) was placed on a crazy little cart, drawn 
 by a mare, and so stationed as to impede the road. It 
 was intended, while in the act of removal by the guards, 
 to explode by internal machinery, and destroy every- 
 thing within reach. It was afterward said that the 
 rapidity of his carriage alone had saved the First Consul, 
 and no doubt this circumstance had its share in his de- 
 liverance ; but the real cause of it was the result of mere 
 chance. The piquet of chasseurs escorting the First 
 Consul preceded and followed the carriage. 
 
 One of the foremost, perceiving that an old cart ob- 
 structed the way, called to the driver to get on one side ; 
 but seeing no one (for Saint Regent, who lighted the 
 train, was concealed behind a palisade), he struck the 
 mare smartly on the haunches with the flat of his saber, 
 which set her in motion, and advancing three or four
 
 392 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUXOT 
 
 steps she seems to have deranged the packthread, which, 
 by opening a valve, was to admit air and cause the 
 explosion. 
 
 The consequent delay was but momentary, yet it suf- 
 ficed to insure the safety of the First Consul, whose 
 carriage had meanwhile turned through the Rue de Malte 
 into the Rue Richelieu, instead of passing through the 
 Rue Saint Xicaise, where the machine was. The mare 
 was killed, but without any external mark of injury, so 
 that a description of her was everywhere placarded, and 
 the body deposited at the Prefecture of Police in order 
 that the public might see and examine it, and perhaps 
 be able to say to whom she formerly belonged. 
 
 Such was the violence of the explosion, so terrible the 
 impulsion, that a part of the wheel and one of the iron 
 bands that encircled the cask, darting across the inter- 
 vening space from the Rue de Malte to the Hotel 
 d'Elbceuf, and unarrested even by the lofty height of 
 that hotel, were hurled some distance beyond it. 
 
 Curiosity proved fatal to many inhabitants of the Rues 
 Saint Nicaise and de Malte. Madame Leger, mistress of 
 the Cafe* Apollo, at the corner of the two streets, run- 
 ning to the door, according to her custom whenever the 
 First Consul was to be seen passing, had both her 
 breasts carried off by one of the hoops of the barrel, 
 and survived but three days. 
 
 One of the waiters at the same cafe was killed, and the 
 other wounded. The number of the victims has been 
 much exaggerated. I have proofs that on that day the 
 deaths did not exceed nine: they may, including the con- 
 sequences, have afterward amounted to twenty-nine or 
 thirty. Great, no doubt : but far less frightful than if we 
 had had to deplore the loss of two thousand people, as 
 would have been the case had not the sentinel peremp- 
 torily resisted the placing of the cart at the door of the 
 Opera House. 
 
 It was not till my return home at night that I was in- 
 formed of Junot's share in the danger. On his road to 
 the Opera from the Ministry of War, which was then at 
 the Hotel d'Avray, Rue de Lille, passing under the arch 
 of the Carrousel, he recollected that it was only seven, 
 and the First Consul would not have set out. He there- 
 fore ordered his coachman to stop at the Tuileries; but
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES / 393 
 
 the restiveness of his young and spirited horses ( we 
 drove at that time the finest in Paris) frustrated this 
 scheme. They were going with tremendous rapidity, and 
 the coachman found it impossible to stop them till it 
 would have become necessary to make a very awkward 
 turn, and to again pass a narrow part of the street. 
 Junot, therefore, with some signs of impatience, relin- 
 quished his design, and again gave the word <( to the 
 Opera. w Had he alighted at the Tuileries, Napoleon's 
 carriage being full,* he must have followed in his own; 
 and the train of guards, the last of whom had his horse 
 killed, would most certainly have been blown up. No 
 one, however, appeared sensible of the danger he had 
 escaped but myself and the coachman, who for more than 
 a year could not pass the Place du Carrousel without a 
 shudder. 
 
 All the authorities, the corporations, the tribunals, — 
 everything that could call itself constituted, or wore the 
 appearance of a body, — congratulated the First Consul 
 and entreated him as a favor to pay more attention to 
 his personal safety. The Council of State, with Boulay 
 de la Meurthe at the head of its deputation, demanded 
 especially that he would take measures for the mainte- 
 nance of public order. But the most remarkable address 
 was that of the City of Paris. This unfortunate city saw 
 her interests at stake, exposed as she was to become the 
 victim of miscreants, who cared not if, in the accom- 
 plishment of their own criminal views, they brought de- 
 struction on thousands of unoffending citizens. 
 
 It was Etienne Mejean, Secretary-General of the De- 
 partment of the Seine, at the head of the Mayors and 
 of the General Council, who spoke, instead of Frochot, 
 then Prefect, who was too ill to exercise his functions. 
 Contemporary memoirs have made the Prefect present 
 the Mayors to the First Consul, and have quoted his 
 speech on the occasion. The question may or may not 
 be an important one; but knowing the truth I report it. 
 
 The next day, the 24th of December, the agitation of 
 Paris was extreme. The heinous nature of the plot was 
 known overnight, but its details were not generally un- 
 derstood till the morning; and I cannot too often repeat, 
 
 * Lauriston, aid-de-camp on duty ; Lannes, commanding the 
 guards, and Berthier, Minister of War, were with Napoleon.
 
 394 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUXOT 
 
 that the indignation they excited was universal, and the 
 interest manifested for the First Consul beyond expres- 
 sion. 
 
 It may be well imagined that all the authorities, civil 
 and military, were at once in a state of activity, requir- 
 ing no other stimulus. Opinions differed upon the di- 
 rection the researches should take. Junot and Fouche, 
 who did not usually agree on police measures, could not 
 convert the First Consul to their persuasion that all these 
 frequent atrocities had their mainsprings both in France 
 and at a distance from it. Napoleon was of a different 
 opinion. "They are the work," said he, <( of those same 
 Enrages, who embrace in their number a multitude of 
 Septembrisers; • and nothing could shake this idea. Yet 
 it was notorious that these men were but the foreposts 
 of a party, and the cat's-paws of their secret instigators. 
 
 <( Do you believe that the cutthroats of the 2d and 
 3d of September, or that the executioners of the Re- 
 publican marriages at Nantes, or the men who filled the 
 ditches- of Avignon with corpses, the assassins of the 
 prisoners at Versailles, those wretches who for two years 
 waded ankle deep in blood, signing decrees of death 
 against the aged, such as the Abbess of Montmartre at 
 ninety, or young victims of sixteen, such as the maids of 
 Verdun — do you believe, sir," and he advanced a pace 
 or two nearer to Fouche — <( do you believe that all these 
 men love liberty and the Republic? Can you answer 
 yes? If you do, I for my part shall say no. I tell you 
 that they are men determined on licentiousness — men 
 who, on the very eve of the massacers I have enumer- 
 ated, had not wherewith to pay for a loaf, and six 
 months afterward were living in opulence; because they 
 could, without a symptom of remorse, wear the clothing 
 and sleep in the beds of their victims. You will tell me, 
 perhaps, that some among them are still poor: it may 
 be so; but for the most part they have long feasted on 
 blood. I know what I know," added he, shaking his 
 head. 
 
 w A handful of wretches, who have calumniated Lib- 
 erty by the crimes they have committed in her name, 
 are the guilty parties," said the First Consul. Dubois 
 would not contradict him, though it was evident he 
 thought with Junot and Fouchd. Fouche replied, "These
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 395 
 
 are fellows incapable of conceiving-. They execute as the 
 horse did who drew the machine, but can go no further. 
 It would be useless were I to run after these men of 
 the Abbaye-aux-Bois.* Only leave me time, and I will 
 unravel many things. w 
 
 For two days Junot scarcely allowed himself an in- 
 stant's repose. He would not intrust to subalterns a 
 commission so important as the pursuit of the agents in 
 so atrocious an enterprise. He rose almost before day- 
 break, and from the headquarters of the garrison di- 
 rected everything that fell under his jurisdiction. The 
 activity, intelligence, and honorable devotedness of his 
 coadjutor M. Doucet, Chief Adjutant General of the gar- 
 rison, cannot be too highly praised. 
 
 At ten o'clock on the evening of the 5th Junot came 
 home, overcome with fatigue, and though he had prom- 
 ised to fetch me from my mother's, could not rally his 
 faculties from the drowsiness which oppressed them. 
 
 On my arrival, my maid told me he was gone to bed, 
 and had requested I would wish him good night. Ac- 
 cordingly, I entered my chamber, and, finding him in a 
 deep sleep, leaned over him and said, (< What ! already 
 asleep ? ft His nights generally restless, were at this 
 anxious period disturbed by frightful dreams; and at the 
 moment I spoke he was dreaming that he was in the 
 Cabinet of the First Consul, which was filled with con- 
 spirators, one of whom was in the act of firing a machine. 
 My words had partly roused him, and the firelight fa- 
 voring the illusion of his dream, he mistook me for the 
 assassin, and with a furious kick drove me to the further 
 extremity of the room. My cries awakened him, and, 
 becoming sensible who had been the object of his attack, 
 he was much agitated. 
 
 *The Abbaye-aux-Bois, situated in the Faubourg Saint Germain, 
 was the principal place for the meetings of the conspirators at that 
 time.
 
 396 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 CHAPTER LV. 
 
 My Visits to the Tuileries after the 23d of December — Conversation 
 with the First Consul — Inutility of an Additional Victim — Bona- 
 parte's Opinion of My Mother's Drawing Room — His Condemnation 
 of the Emigrants — «M. Roger de Damas,» a Synonym for Bravery 
 
 — The Horse and the Cloak — Madame Murat at the Hotel de Brionne 
 
 — Promenade to Villiers — M. Baudelocque and Madame Frangeau 
 
 — «We are Not Rich » — The First Consul's Character — Portalis at 
 Malmaison — The Preamble of the Civil Code. 
 
 We were more than commonly assiduous in our at- 
 tendance at the Tuileries after the explosion of the 
 infernal machine; my mother herself pressed it 
 upon me, and, when desirous of my company, would 
 sacrifice it to send me to the Palace. (< Be very partic- 
 ular, w said she, <( to express to General Bonaparte the 
 distress which this horrible affair has occasioned me. 
 No set speeches, such as you would address to a Tri- 
 bunal or a Council of State, but depict in its true colors 
 all that I suffered on the evening and night of the 23d 
 of December. w 
 
 The attempted assassination made her shudder; she 
 wept violently on her return home, and in the night had 
 a violent access of fever, which made her very ill for 
 two days. 
 
 When I acquitted myself of her commission to the First 
 Consul, his answer was of a nature to have confounded 
 anyone less acquainted with his character than I was. 
 He looked me steadily in the face, fixed on me that 
 piercing and fiery eye, which, by its quick and earnest 
 expression, magnetized those it encountered, and desired 
 me to repeat my mother's message. 
 
 (< I have had the honor, General, of expressing to you, 
 in my mother's name, the lively anxiety she felt in the 
 incidents of the 23d. She hopes you do not doubt her 
 sincerity." 
 
 <( Yet she ran away, and you too, before the end of the 
 oratorio. w • 
 
 I made no reply, but looked at General Bonaparte 
 with an expression which he probably interpreted liter- 
 ally; for he added, withdrawing his gaze from me, and
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 397 
 
 turning toward the window, although it was night, and 
 nothing could be seen in the Palace court, (< To be sure 
 it would have availed nothing toward my safety, had any 
 peril awaited me, that one more victim should have ex- 
 posed herself to it. w 
 
 <( Let me add, General, that in the eyes of my mother 
 it was her daughter who was in danger; in mine, it was 
 my mother. We mutually owed regard to each other's 
 safety; for myself, I do not exaggerate when I affirm 
 that I left the Opera with the greatest reluctance; for I 
 knew that Junot must partake the danger that threatened 
 his General, and this idea was painful to me; but I 
 could not suffer my mother to run the risk without be- 
 ing in some degree criminal. n 
 
 <( Yes, yes; undoubtedly, undoubtedly, w answered the 
 First Consul, with an inflection of voice it would be 
 impossible to describe ; <( I am altogether ridiculous to 
 have spoken so thoughtlessly, for you must call it so. I 
 know in your mother's circle everything is acceptable 
 that may make me appear in an unfavorable light. w 
 
 (< General, n replied I, much hurt that he persisted in 
 the belief that my mother's drawing-room was a center 
 for the dissemination of hatred against him, <( how can I 
 convince you ? It can be accomplished only by one 
 means, and that is in the power of God alone — it is, 
 that the accent of truth may reach your heart. I have 
 the honor to tell you, Citizen Consul, that never has a 
 word to your prejudice been uttered in my mother's 
 drawing-room but either she or my brother has instantly 
 imposed silence on the holders of language which my 
 mother's friendship for you, and for all your family, 
 would interdict, even though it were the language of 
 truth. » 
 
 "Ah!" said the First Consul, <( you admit, then, that 
 persons inimical to me are received in your mother's 
 drawing-room? * 
 
 <( I have spoken with frankness, General, and shall con- 
 tinue to do so. Unquestionably, among my mother's 
 acquaintances are some who are unfriendly to the present 
 Government; I pretend neither to blame nor absolve 
 them. I know that they are suffering the consequences 
 of a long exile, that their property is confiscated, that 
 most of them are in indigence, that many still groan
 
 398 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 under the proscription ; but all these evils are not ascrib- 
 able to you, and to resent them upon you would be equally 
 unjust and absurd. But, on the other hand, I believe 
 also B 
 
 I stopped, and, half smiling, looked at the First Consul, 
 who continued my sentence — "That I should be unjust 
 in my turn if I obliged them to cry, Vive la Rfyublique! 
 Is not that your meaning, Madame Junot ? But if they 
 do not like that word, why do they return to France ? 
 Who recalls them ? They are not wanted in any branch 
 of the Administration. Fouche and Chaptal will be quite 
 as good Ministers as M. le Comte d'Entraigues, and Junot 
 and Lannes will command my soldiers as well as M. 
 Roger de Damas, brave as he is. w * 
 
 <c But, General, w answered I, <( is not our native soil the 
 property of all her children ? Cannot a Frenchman re- 
 turn home without the inducement of a place ? Is there 
 not an attraction infinitely more powerful ? I know there 
 is, by the experience of my own family; my uncle, M. de 
 Comnena, is returned to France, to live in peace and in 
 the hope of a better future. And he certainly did not 
 want confidence in your generosity, for he re-entered 
 France without a passport, without even an encouraging 
 word ; and as he was far from expecting to find his niece 
 the bride of one of your Generals, he reckoned only on 
 the magnanimity of the Government toward a man who 
 surrenders himself. >} 
 
 w Your uncle does not like me, and I may add he does 
 not like the Republic; besides, he emigrated, and I con- 
 sider all emigrants in the light of parricides. Neverthe- 
 
 * Whenever the bravery of the emigrants was Napoleon's topic, M. 
 Roger de Damas was always the example. He related a certain story, 
 which I never heard but from him, about the head of a horse enveloped 
 in a cloak, and a leap into the sea, horse and rider; Quiberon was the 
 theater. But as it was neither easy to follow Bonaparte in his narra- 
 tive, nor to extract from him a repetition, 1 never exactly understood 
 the particulars of this anecdote. All that I could gather from it was, 
 that M. Roger de Damas, seeing himself on the point of being taken, 
 had wrapped his horse's head in his cloak, that the animal might not be 
 sensible of his danger, and striking the spurs into his sides, had made 
 him leap into the sea. I made inquiries of a person who had served in 
 Conde's army, and he assured me the circumstance was true, but had 
 not happened at Quiberon. I give it as I heard it, and that was from 
 Napoleon.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 399 
 
 less, I have complied with Junot's demands in favor of 
 M. de Comnena; for," added he, <( Madame Permon care- 
 fully avoids presenting a petition to me, even in favor of 
 her brother. n 
 
 This was true; my mother had said, <( If he be so dis- 
 posed, he will do it for Junot ; and if not, what good can 
 my interference effect ? 8 
 
 My mother was, however, mistaken; the General would 
 never have refused to Madame Permon what the First 
 Consul of the Republic might perhaps have thought it 
 inconsistent with his duty to grant to General Junot. 
 
 I remember that the same day the First Consul talked 
 to me of all my family ; inquired whether my grandmother 
 was still living; what was become of my uncle, the Abbe 
 de Comnena; he also spoke of my brother, and his friendly 
 intentions toward him. Junot's relations were not men- 
 tioned; he spoke only of my own. 
 
 As I have before said, I went often to Madame Bona- 
 parte; Madame Murat, who was expecting her confine- 
 ment, was also a frequent visitor, and I never met her 
 without pleasure. She was unaffected, a dutiful daughter, 
 a fond wife, and every way interesting. 
 
 One day I visited her at the Hotel de Brionne, where 
 she was then living; she occupied the ground floor, and 
 M. Benezeck, with all his family, the first. I found her 
 getting into her carriage for a ride to Villiers (Neuilly), 
 which the First Consul had just given her, and she pro- 
 posed my accompanying her, to which I acceded, and we 
 set out, having the precaution to take her nurse, Madame 
 Frangeau, with us. 
 
 Madame Frangeau was the favorite of Baudelocque, 
 and could recount the minutiae of youth, maturity, and 
 declining age of her patron, with commentaries and ad- 
 ditions which each recital magnified by half; will not 
 the simple mention of her name recall to the Queen of 
 Naples, the Queen of Holland, the Duchesse de Frioul, 
 and to all the young mothers of that day, who, like my- 
 self, were subjected to her six weeks' thraldom, her 
 gown of the fashion of the Regency, and her whimsi- 
 cally antiquated headdress, oddly contrasted with finery 
 in the style of 1800? 
 
 This little ride to Villiers dwells on my mind, because 
 so excessive was our mirth at Madame Frangeau's stories
 
 4 oo MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 that at one moment I had fears for Caroline. She, how- 
 ever, thought not of accidents; she was better engaged 
 in devouring ten or twelve large bunches of grapes and 
 two rolls a la duchcssc, which Madame Frangeau had 
 ordered to be put into the carriage. I never saw such 
 an appetite ! (( Will you have some ? n said she, recollect- 
 ing at last that all the way from the Barriers she had 
 been eating without a companion. 
 
 After driving round the park of Villiers, and laying 
 in a fresh stock of provisions (for the basket was emptied) 
 we returned home. <( The First Consul, in the gift of 
 this country seat, has been most generous to us, }> said 
 Caroline. <c We are not rich, and if my brother had not 
 added the means of furnishing and supporting the house 
 it had been useless to us. w In after times, when Murat, 
 returning from Italy, undertook the government of Paris 
 on Junot's departure for Arras, no impossibility of this 
 nature prevented his furnishing and inhabiting the Hotel 
 de Thelusson. 
 
 Our evenings, even after the play, if it were not too 
 late, were spent at Madame Bonaparte's. There we en- 
 joyed the happiness of meeting the First Consul. 
 
 His conversation, always attractive by its depth of 
 thought, and the air of originality reflected from his rich 
 and brilliant imagination, acquired increased interest 
 from the consciousness that at such a moment all he said 
 was of importance. For this reason I seldom missed the 
 quintidian dinners. In spite of crowd, noise, and bustle, 
 it was easy to hear the conversation of the First Consul 
 with the men of talent and learning of France. The 
 most profound civilians, the ablest financiers, the most 
 subtle diplomatists, thronged around to hear him, and 
 appeared to be rather taking lessons from him than 
 imparting their knowledge to a young man, whose pale 
 complexion bore witness to watchings and fatigues far 
 exceeding theirs, though the superiority of years was 
 greatly on their side. 
 
 For a just appreciation of the First Consul's character, 
 he should have been listened to at Malmaison, or in 
 Madame Bonaparte's salon at Paris; but never was he so 
 interesting as at the period I am sketching, imperfectly, 
 indeed, considering the strong and vigorous coloring re- 
 quired, when designed for eyes which cannot by the aid
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 401 
 
 of personal recollection fill up the mere outlines of the 
 picture. 
 
 It was when surrounded by the first men of the day 
 that the First Consul should have been seen and heard; 
 he then exhibited a fire which diffused life and warmth 
 on all around him: I had never before seen him in so 
 splendid a light, and I was more than astonished at it. 
 Its effect upon me was at once seducing like an attractive 
 charm, and strongly agitating from the conclusive and 
 perfectly convincing brevity of his eloquence. 
 
 On M. Portalis arriving, the First Consul met him, 
 and, taking his hand, led him to Madame Bonaparte. 
 He had a great esteem for him. Portalis was not then 
 afflicted with blindness ; his sight was painful, but he did 
 not yet require a guide. The First Consul spoke to him 
 as soon as he entered about the preamble of the Code, 
 which had been intrusted to him. 
 
 <( You are idle, Citizen Portalis, w said the First Consul, 
 laughing. <( You must make more haste ; all the world is 
 crying out after our Code; we must move fast where 
 business is concerned. 8 
 
 (< Ah ! General, 8 answered the worthy man, laughing in 
 his turn, <( you give others credit for your own gift of 
 magic. As for you, you were endowed at your birth; 
 but we, poor simple mortals, must feel our way soberly. 
 Besides, do not you know, General, that our Code has 
 only been a year concocting; and that a code of laws is 
 an immense national monument, which requires time to 
 erect ? You have worked at it as well as we, and you 
 know it is a skein not easily unraveled. w 
 
 <( Yes, certainly, certainly, w said the First Consul; "but 
 we must advance, ft he repeated still ; (< we must advance : 
 is the preamble ready ? * 
 
 <( The First Consul is well assured that I shall always 
 fulfill, not my duty merely, but far more than my duty, 
 to second his great and noble projects for the happiness 
 of France, 8 replied M. Portalis; w the preamble is com- 
 pleted. » 
 
 <( Ah, you are a good and excellent Frenchman ! B said 
 the First Consul — (< well and good ! I like such men as 
 you and the brave Duveyrier. I am happy when I see 
 such around me ; and so seconded, I cannot do otherwise 
 than well.* 
 26
 
 4Q2 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 CHAPTER LVI. 
 
 Female Breakfasts at the Tuileries — Madame Vaines — The Lioness 
 en Couche, and Visit to the Menagerie with Madame Bonaparte — Ma- 
 rengo, the Eldest of the Lions — The First Consul Joins Us at the 
 Botanical Gardens — Bonaparte and Felix the Keeper — The Liar 
 Caught in the Fact, and the Crocodiles of the Bosphorus — 
 Reminiscences of Egypt by the First Consul — The Psylli and the 
 Serpents. 
 
 I was engaged to breakfast with Madame Bonaparte at 
 the Tuileries. Her custom of inviting young married 
 women, too timid to make themselves agreeable in 
 the society of superior men, was delightful to me. Chat- 
 ting with Madame Bonaparte, during the perfectly un- 
 ceremonious repast, upon fashions, and all the little interests 
 of society, these young ladies acquired confidence, and 
 threw off that reserve which the presence of the First 
 Consul was calculated to inspire. 
 
 Madame Bonaparte did the honors with grace and 
 vivacity; we were generally five or six, and all of the 
 same age, the mistress of the house excepted. At Mal- 
 maison the number was sometimes twelve or fifteen, and 
 the breakfast was served in a small circular salon look- 
 ing into the court, and which is now present to my 
 imagination, though I have not entered it these sixteen 
 years. 
 
 One day, at the Tuileries breakfast, I met Madame 
 Vaines, who was high in favor both with the First Con- 
 sul and Madame Bonaparte, and another person, whose 
 name I forget; all I remember is, that it must have been 
 a female, for men were never admitted to these morning 
 fetes, the First Consul positively prohibiting it. Madame 
 Bonaparte told us she was going to make a visit to a 
 lying-in lady, and inquired if we would accompany her. 
 We acceded, but begged to know in our turn who was 
 the object of our visit. She answered, that to be sure 
 it was a personage who might eat us, but that at present 
 she was in a gentle mood; in short, it was the lioness 
 of the Botanical Garden, who had been delivered at her 
 full time of three whelps, all living. The First Consul
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 403 
 
 had been already there; but as Madame Bonaparte had 
 informed him of her proposal, he had promised to join 
 us if his engagements would permit. 
 
 The lioness was doing well, but was, as Madame Bona- 
 parte had told us, in a languishing mood. Felix Cassal, 
 her keeper, entered the cage, took the cubs from her, 
 and the poor beast, without moving, turned her eyes on 
 him with an expression of softness and affection. She 
 was extended in her cage on a good litter, and her little 
 ones lay rolled in thick coarse carpets, as warmly as in 
 the African sands. 
 
 Madame Bonaparte took one of the cubs in her hands, 
 which drew forth a growl from the mother; but Felix 
 spoke to her, and acknowledging his voice by a momen- 
 tary glance of more fierceness than the former, she again 
 turned to the offender, and renewed her growl. Madame 
 Bonaparte was alarmed. <( Oh! never fear, 8 said Felix; 
 <( she is behind a strong grating, and, besides, she has 
 not yet recovered her strength; she would not hurt much." 
 * Oh ! w said Madame Bonaparte, <( I can dispense with 
 the trial of her strength; there would be quite enough 
 remaining to make me repent having caressed her son. w 
 
 This Cassal was an extraordinary man in his way. He 
 was a great traveler, and had made interesting observa- 
 tions, even on the common habits of the country he had 
 passed through; and though he pretended to have seen 
 marvels altogether incredible, yet all he said was not 
 false, and both amusement and instruction might be ex- 
 tracted from him. He had himself purchased the lioness 
 of some Arabs, who had taken her in the environs of 
 Constantinople. While she was enceinte, a child having 
 wounded her in the eye with a stone, she threw herself 
 into so violent a passion as to produce abortion; and as 
 she brought forth the present litter a hundred days 
 afterward, that must have been the utmost extent of her 
 parturition, which disproves the conjectures of Pliny 
 and Buffon; the latter, I believe, asserts that the lioness 
 is six or seven months with young. 
 
 She littered on the 18th Brumaire, and Felix named 
 the firstborn whelp Marengo. <( Was not I a good god- 
 father ? w said he to Madame Bonaparte. 
 
 He made me touch one of the whelps; but the lioness, 
 who had turned away and appeared to think no more of
 
 4 o4 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 the matter, suddenly started up to her full height, and 
 uttered a roar that shook the very walls. 
 
 Felix soothed her, and took the cub himself. He told 
 us that the First Consul, on his visit to the lioness, had 
 caressed her, and was very well received. <( He inquired 
 the hour of her delivery, * said Felix; (C the nature of her 
 food, and especially of her beverage; and the General 
 who was with him gave me a bright piece of gold, that 
 the lioness might drink to the health of the Republic, a 
 direction I have obeyed. Oh, he thinks of everything, 
 the Citizen Consul ! ® While he spoke, I was meditating 
 on the fortunes of this extraordinary man, which seemed 
 to be mysteriously linked with all the wonders of his 
 age. 
 
 The First Consul met us on horseback before we had 
 quitted the gardens, and Felix no sooner perceived him 
 than he hurried forward to report the bulletin of the 
 lioness; assuring him that she had drunk to his health, 
 and that she was wonderfully well. Napoleon caressed 
 her, and talked with Felix of all his beasts, with as 
 much ease, and as perfect a knowledge of their proper- 
 ties and habits, as if this branch of science had been 
 his particular study. 
 
 Felix, finding such encouragement, entered upon one 
 of his best stories; but just as he arrived (on his own 
 showing) at the most astonishing point, Napoleon patted 
 him on the head with : 
 
 <( Felix, you lie, my boy; there are no crocodiles in the 
 place you speak of, nor never were ; but it is all one — 
 proceed with your story. 8 
 
 This was more easily said than done. F61ix was so 
 thoroughly disconcerted by the First Consul's apostrophe, 
 that it was impossible to recover the thread of his ad- 
 venture. 
 
 (< Well, it will do for another day, B said Napoleon 
 good-humoredly ; "only remember that crocodiles do not 
 devour those who bathe in the Bosphorus, otherwise it 
 would have been much easier to kill Leander by that 
 means than by drowning, as he had no boat, poor 
 fellow ! » 
 
 We promenaded for some time in these beautiful gardens 
 and their fine greenhouses. They are greatly improved 
 since; } r et the Botanical Gardens were even then the most
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 405 
 
 complete institution of the kind in Europe. Other mu- 
 seums were richer in particular articles, but ours alone 
 possessed that superiority in all, which has since rendered 
 it the universal rendezvous for the study of natural his- 
 tory. Napoleon observed that day: <( It is my wish to 
 render this the most attractive spot to all learned foreign- 
 ers in Paris. I wish to draw them here to see and ad- 
 mire a people in their love of science and the arts. The 
 museum of natural history shall be what those of sculp- 
 ture and painting, and of ancient monuments, will be. 
 Paris should be the first city of the world. If God grant 
 me a life long enough, I would have her become the 
 capital of the universe, in science as well as power. Our 
 painters are already the first, the best in Europe. Ex- 
 cepting Canova and Appiani, Italy herself cannot boast tal- 
 ents equal to ours in painting and sculpture. Their poets 
 also are inferior to ours. Cesarotti and Alfieri cannot 
 dispute the palm with our young writers. In short,* 
 added he, <( I am proud of my country, and I would have 
 her always mindful of what she is and may be." 
 
 We visited the Cabinet of Natural History. The First 
 Consul, remarking on the length of a serpent from the 
 island of Java, was reminded of those of Egypt, and con- 
 sequently was led to speak of the Psylli. He joked much 
 about Denon, who was bent on knowing the flavor of these 
 creatures (not the Psylli, but the serpents), and Junot 
 declared that the first he ate, on his initiation, seized his 
 chin, and would not let it go, twisting itself five or six 
 times round his chin, which in truth was immoderately 
 long. Speaking of serpents, the First Consul related to 
 us a droll incident that had occurred in his own house at 
 Cairo. Junot was there, and has since repeated it to me 
 much more at length. 
 
 One morning at breakfast, the Psylli and serpents came 
 under discussion. The General-in-Chief said he believed 
 only in the serpents. (< I believe there are mountebanks 
 in Egypt, ® added he, <( as well as elsewhere. The Psylli 
 exercise the juggling talents there, with even more facil- 
 ity than our men with a divining rod seek for water ; and 
 when a Psylle announces that he is going to eat a ser- 
 pent, I verily believe he meets with more gapers than 
 another would on the Pont Neuf." 
 
 (< I assure you, General," said Junot, (< that I have seen
 
 4 o6 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUXOT 
 
 these men perform inconceivable feats. I have seen the 
 chief of those creatures do incomprehensible things. " 
 
 "What! the chief of the serpents ? " said the General- 
 in-Chief. 
 
 <( No, General, the chief of the Psylli. You may laugh 
 at me, but, on my honor, it would astound you to see 
 his performances." 
 
 <( I tell you they are conjurers, and nothing else. Hold! 
 you shall have proof. Go instantly to the chief of the 
 Psylli," said he to a domestic interpreter; "send him 
 here, with two of his men." 
 
 The chief of the Psylli lost no time in obeying the 
 summons. As soon as he arrived the General-in-Chief 
 told him, through the medium of the interpreter: "There 
 are two serpents in this house ; find them, and thou shalt 
 have two sequins ( twelve francs ) for thyself, and as 
 much for thy followers." 
 
 The Psylle prostrated himself, and asked for two troughs 
 filled with water. When they were brought he stripped 
 himself, then filled his mouth with water, laid himself 
 flat on his face, and began creeping, in imitation of the 
 reptile he was in search of, and spouting the water 
 through his closed teeth to mimic its hissing. When he 
 had in this manner made the tour of the ground floor, he 
 said to the General-in-Chief, with a savage laugh : " Ma- 
 jichc, mafiche, " which signifies <( There are none. * The 
 General-in-Chief echoed his laugh, and said: (< Comment 
 diablc! can this idiot really play the magician ? * And 
 he ordered the interpreter to give the Psylle to under- 
 stand that the serpent had been seen. "Oh! I know 
 that," said the Psylle. " I felt it on entering the house." 
 
 "There, now," said the General-in-Chief, "now the 
 comedy is beginning. Well; seek thy serpent, and if 
 thou findest it thou shalt have two additional sequins." 
 The Psylle climbed with the same maneuvers a staircase 
 which led to the upper story, where Bourrienne lodged, 
 pursued by a troop of inquisitors with the General-in- 
 Chief at their head. The corridor was lighted by a 
 loophole overlooking the country, through which the 
 unvarying azure of the beautiful Egyptian sky was dis- 
 tinguishable. The Psylle closed his eyes and shuddered. 
 "There is your actor beginning his part," said the First 
 Consul to Junot. The serpent detector then said in a
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 407 
 
 '.ere he is! I shall be delighted to pay 
 
 d the honors of hospital ;neral-in-Ch 
 
 * but. my friend, I think thou art mocking us. Dost know 
 tha: this animal has completely mystified us with his 
 his- last hour, making us run about after his 
 
 imagin 
 
 . discouraged, still crept and hissed 
 abou:. .... presently an actual serpent was seen to inter- 
 po~-: ng line across the loophole, and was heard 
 
 answering with fraternal good will the hissing of the 
 - . t in length, and Junot has assured 
 me that its eyes ^arkled through the dusky corridor like 
 a bright fire. It approached the Psylle, and was no 
 - net with n reach than he caught it, with incredi- 
 
 ble address, in one hand, just below the jawbone, in 
 such a manner as to oblige the mouth to open, when, 
 spitting into it, the effect was like magic; the reptile 
 appeared struck with instant death, and, during his 
 lethargy, the enchanter extracted the venom from his 
 n fangs. 
 .'.".. my General, what say you to this adventure?* 
 asked Junot of the General-in-Chief. 
 
 ""hat would you have me say to the result of chance? 
 1 Psylle is a lucky impostor, that is all.* 
 
 CHAPTER LVII. 
 
 Stu :' .<"V~ Men — My Dinners — Advice of the First Consul, and 
 Changes in Society — The Days of the Consuls — The Household of 
 Cants. '.ire; — Messieurs d'Aigrefeuille and Monvel — A Dinner at 
 the House of Cambaceres — The Solid tors at the House of the 
 Second Consul — The Court of the Second Consul, and Promenade 
 at the Bab I Royal — Mademoiselle de Montferrier and Monsieur 
 Bastarreche — Beauty and the Beast — Bon-mot of Bonaparte — M. 
 de Souza and His Wi g — General Mortier and His Family — The 
 Two Brothers of Ben'-ier — Serviies .' — His Retire 
 
 For some months after my marriage not a day passed 
 that Junot did not introduce to me several of his 
 friends, and a multitude of acquaintances. I was 
 accustomed to see much company at my mother's. Her
 
 4 o8 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 circle was a wide one, but it sank into insignificance- 
 compared with ours. This perpetual distraction was at 
 first extremely fatiguing, and my mother, who came 
 to install me in my new dignity of mistress of my 
 house, giving me credit for the manner in which I ac- 
 quitted myself of my arduous functions, added that, for 
 her part, as a spectator only, one of these soirees more 
 than satisfied her, and had its arrangement fallen on her 
 it would have cost her a week's illness. 
 
 For some time I was of her opinion, but before a month 
 had elapsed I was sensible of a growing inclination for 
 company, and in a short time, aided by a disposition to 
 view all things on the brightest side, and a lively inter- 
 est in seeking out, and associating with a visible form, 
 all circumstances relating to the life and character of 
 men whose names had long struck my ears in society, 
 and my eyes in the journals, I began to feel real pleas- 
 ure in my new situation. Junot, to whom I imparted my 
 change of sentiment, sincerely congratulated me upon it, 
 and promised to assist me whenever my researches should 
 require his aid. 
 
 There were at that time few open houses at Paris, the 
 privilege being confined to the ministers and authorities; 
 and even they received only large and formal parties. I 
 was anxious to effect a reformation in this respect, and 
 once expressed my wish to the First Consul, when he 
 was mentioning his own desire to see a more free com- 
 munication between the society of Paris and the members 
 of the Government. 
 
 (< Accomplish that, and you will be a charming little 
 woman, * said General Bonaparte. <c If you make the 
 attempt you will succeed, for you know what it is to 
 hold a drawing-room. Let Citizen CambaceYes see that 
 for this purpose it is not sufficient merely to give a 
 dinner. w 
 
 The Consul Cambac£res received company every Tues- 
 day and Saturday, and for the first six months of the 
 year ix. no other house could stand a comparison with 
 the Hotel Cambaceres; it was soon, however, not only 
 imitated, but excelled. The principal members of his 
 household were Messieurs de Lavoll6e and Monvel, secre- 
 taries, and Messieurs de Chateauneuf and D'Aigrefeuille, 
 who had no appointed functions, but voluntarily acted as
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 409 
 
 chamberlains, and the moment a lady was announced one 
 of these gentlemen went to the door to receive and con- 
 duct her to a chair. 
 
 I had a great friendship for CambaceYes, which neither 
 absence nor distance ever impaired; yet I must acknowl- 
 edge that, notwithstanding the host's peculiar elegance 
 and superior powers of pleasing, and notwithstanding 
 even that friendly welcome and perfect politeness which, 
 under the influence of the master's example, extended 
 itself to the very lowest domestic of the household, no 
 sooner had you passed the gate of the Hotel Cambac6res 
 than the very air seemed impregnated with ennui, sleep 
 took possession of the eyelids, and a sort of lethargy 
 suspended every faculty as completely as in the temple 
 of Morpheus. 
 
 The dinner party never exceeded five and twenty, and 
 of these the proportion of ladies was small; there were 
 never, indeed, more than two of such considerations, 
 from the offices of their husbands, as that their preten- 
 sions to precedence might have occasioned jealousies. 
 There was an excellent cook; and the carving fell to the 
 department of the maitre d y hotel, CambaceVes himself 
 never doing the honors, except of a dish of rare game. 
 
 This was a great innovation in the etiquette of French 
 society, but I found it agreeable; I cannot, however, say 
 as much for his custom of entertaining the guests nearest 
 to him with an enumeration of all his maladies of the 
 day, assuring us he was too ill to eat, yet always con- 
 cluding by making an excellent meal: He had great con- 
 versational powers, and his narratives acquired novelty and 
 grace from the turn of his language. His evening drawing- 
 room was crowded with judges, registrars, and other 
 officers of all the courts in France, who seemed already 
 to anticipate the future Archchancellor; he bore, indeed, 
 even at that period, the character of the ablest civilian 
 in the country. 
 
 The Third Consul, too, had already entered upon his 
 future department, the Financial and Administrative ; and 
 he also had his two evenings appropriated weekly. How 
 many original figures have passed before my eyes in 
 these two houses! How often, when my eager scrutiny 
 has been awakened by the announcement of a name 
 which had figured conspicuously in the Revolution, have
 
 4 io MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 I been disappointed by an insignificant or repulsive ex- 
 terior! how often, seated beside such a one the whole 
 dinner time, which with Cambaceres was never short, I 
 have been stupefied by the utter nullity of his ideas! 
 but on communicating- my feelings to Cambac6res, he 
 would answer, <( This man's reputation was the result of 
 chance ; opportunity fell in his way, and instinctively he 
 seized it by the forelock. }) 
 
 The conduct of Cambaceres during the Revolution has 
 been much talked of, and I do not pretend to excuse it. 
 I hate the sanguinary years with which his name is con- 
 nected, and everything that recalls them ; but, difficult as 
 the task may be, I would fain see him exempted from 
 the censures which attach to the men of that period. 
 Xapoleon did not approve of the events of 1793, but he 
 excused the famous vote of Cambaceres by the reflection 
 that the thing once done — that is to say, the King once 
 condemned — the interests of France, and especially of 
 Paris, demanded the immediate consummation of that 
 terrible drama. 
 
 He disapproved of the sentence, which he character- 
 ized as a resolution unjustly adopted toward a man who 
 was guilty only of the crimes of others; and I never 
 heard him pronounce the name of Louis XVI. without 
 the additional epithet of "the unfortunate King." I 
 record his opinion here, because I conceive that on a 
 matter so momentous, and which so nearly concerns his 
 own destiny — since it still influences that of France — it 
 must be of the highest interest to us. 
 
 Cambaceres was originally Councilor in the Court of 
 Finances of Languedoc. When the Comte de Perigord 
 presided over the states of that province, of which he 
 was commandant in 1786, Cambaceres was in misfortune. 
 M. de Perigord, always benevolent and ready to assist 
 the needy, asked and obtained for the almost indigent 
 Councilor a pension of two hundred francs, and for his 
 father one of two thousand francs, out of the royal 
 lotteries. 
 
 The courtesy of Cambaceres was general, but his 
 countrymen from Languedoc he welcomed with a pecul- 
 iar urbanity, the more invaluable that it had none of 
 the varnish of fashionable politeness. Many Languedo- 
 cians went direct to the Hotel de Cambaceres on alight-
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 411 
 
 ing from the diligences; he received them with kindness, 
 examined their petitions, and if he could not assist them, 
 unhesitatingly told' them the truth, pointing out at the 
 same time how they might obtain other advantages, and 
 never failed to forward their interests. I may be allowed 
 to call Cambaceres an honest man; for, looking around 
 on all his equals in power, I have never found one of 
 such absolute good faith and probity, to which many 
 others can testify. 
 
 His figure was extraordinarily ugly, as well as unique. 
 The slow and regular step, the measured cadence of ac- 
 cent, the very look, which took three times as long as 
 another's to arrive at its object — all was in admirable 
 keeping with the long person, long nose, long chin, and 
 the yellow skin, which betrayed not the smallest symp- 
 toms that any matter inclining to sanguine circulated 
 beneath its cellular texture. 
 
 The same consistency, though probably unstudied, per- 
 vaded his dress; and when demurely promenading the 
 galleries of the Palais Royal, then the Palais Egalite, the 
 singular cut and color of his embroidered coat ; his ruffles, 
 at that time so uncommon; his short breeches, silk stock- 
 ings, shoes polished with English blacking, and fastened 
 with gold buckles; his old-fashioned wig and queue; and 
 his well-appointed and well-placed three-cornered hat, 
 produced altogether a most fantastic effect. 
 
 Even the members of his household, by their peculiari- 
 ties of dress, served as accessories to the picture. 
 
 He went every evening to the theater, and seldom 
 failed to make his appearance afterward with his suite, 
 all in full costume, either in the gardens of the Tuileries 
 or of the Palais Egalite, where everything around 
 exhibited the most ludicrous disparity with this 
 strange group, whose solemn deportment and delib- 
 erate and circumspect discourse might serve to per- 
 sonify the disciples of Plato following their master to 
 Sunium. 
 
 The First Consul was sometimes annoyed that the ridi- 
 cule attached to his colleague appeared to recoil upon 
 him, and I remember once seeing him enraged as he 
 listened to the translation of a passage from the English 
 journals. The Second Consul was caricatured, and from 
 the Second to the First the transition is so easy that the
 
 4 i2 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 journalist made no scruple of it. The First Consul 
 stamped his foot, and said to Josephine : 
 
 "You must interfere in this matter — do you hear? It 
 is only a woman that can tell a man he is ridiculous; if 
 I meddle I shall tell him he is mad. w 
 
 I know not whether Madame Bonaparte achieved her 
 commission to the Consul Cambaceres; but this I know, 
 that although always highly distinguished for his knowl- 
 edge, his politeness, and his dinners, he yet always re- 
 mained that which had so highly discomposed the First 
 Consul. 
 
 Cambaceres had a charming grandniece, the daughter 
 of his nephew, M. Duvidal de Montferrier. I have 
 always wondered that he did not place her at the head 
 of his establishment; but perhaps he was terrified by the 
 aspect of her companion, whom it would have been diffi- 
 cult to exclude, for he was the husband, and the most 
 jealous upon earth! Among the events of life, there are 
 always some much more difficult to comprehend than 
 others. - Of this class was the marriage of Mademoiselle 
 Rose de Montferrier with M. Bastarreche, a banker of 
 Bayonne, afterward established at Paris in partnership 
 with M. Jubie, the possessor of an immense fortune, but 
 the most frightful of monsters. 
 
 It would be impossible faithfully to portray Made- 
 moiselle Rose de Montferrier at the age of eighteen, be- 
 cause, with eyes and profile of corresponding beauty, her 
 principal charms consisted of a nymphlike figure, and a 
 complexion of which no comparison can give an idea. It 
 was superior even to Madame Murat's; it breathed an 
 animation, a warmth of coloring which, without meta- 
 phor, reminded one of the flower whose name she bore, 
 and with the delicacy of its tints was combined the velvet 
 of the peach. 
 
 Considering the high position of Cambaceres, it was 
 naturally expected that Mademoiselle de Montferrier 
 would make a brilliant match. But long afterward, even 
 after the death of M. de Bastarreche, Napoleon could 
 not forgive Cambaceres for consenting to it: (< It is the 
 Beauty and the Beast realized, w said he. All Paris heard 
 with surprise that the young lady showed no repugnance; 
 and with this news circulated magnificent details of the 
 splendid equipages and wedding dresses; nothing was
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 413 
 
 talked of but diamonds, pearls, and jewels innumerable 
 given by Azor.* <( Ah ! " said the First Consul, (C the 
 
 PRESENT MAKES US FORGET THE FUTURE. M 
 
 Before quitting- the Consul Cambaceres, I must relate 
 an adventure which happened about this time. A 
 Portuguese, named Don Alexander de Souza, had just 
 arrived in Paris, on his road to (or from) an embassy 
 at Rome. 
 
 M. de Souza was a very little man, about four feet ten 
 or eleven inches high, and the whole of his delicate per- 
 son cast in a most diminutive mold: he was not only 
 thin, but absolutely shriveled; yet he had the air of a 
 gentleman, and his manners were those of a person of 
 quality. The authorities received him with something 
 more than the cordiality due to the friend of our enemies, 
 and M. de Souza had nothing to complain of on his 
 passage through Paris. The Second Consul would not 
 let slip such an opportunity to give a sumptuous dinner. 
 All the authorities were invited, and many of his friends; 
 Junot and I were of the number, as were Duroc, Lannes, 
 and Mortier, now Duke of Treviso, and then Commandant 
 of the First Military Division. 
 
 I have not before mentioned this excellent man or his 
 wife, all goodness, simplicity, and gentleness. He was 
 Junot's superior as Commandant of the Division, while 
 Junot was only Commandant of Paris; but we lived on 
 the best and most friendly terms; for General Mortier 
 was, and still is, the best and most worthy of men; but 
 at this period he would laugh like a child, and his mirth 
 sometimes compromised the dignity of the General Com- 
 mandant's epaulettes, f 
 
 M. de Souza, on occasion of this dinner, wore a mag- 
 nificent coat of Segovian cloth, embroidered in gold with 
 a perfection we cannot attain in France. A frill of fine 
 cambric rose almost imperceptibly at the top of his well- 
 buttoned coat, in the English fashion, and his head dis- 
 
 * <( La Belle et la Bete, ou Azor et Zemire, w an opera then in 
 vogue. 
 
 f General, afterward Marshal, Mortier was killed on the 2Sth of 
 July, 1835, while riding by the side of Louis Philippe on the Boulevard 
 du Temple opposite the Jardin Turc, by the explosion of the infernal 
 machine invented and fired by Fieschi, with the intention of killing 
 the King: and his two sons.
 
 414 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 played a peruke a la Pitt, more fully to exemplify that 
 Portugal was not only the very humble servant of 
 England, but equally the submissive slave of her minister. 
 
 M. de Souza was seated at the table between me and 
 Madame Jolivet, wife of a Councilor of State. All the 
 civilities lavished on the foreign traveler failed to banish 
 the ennui with which this republican land seemed to in- 
 spire him. I was obliged to stifle my yawns in answer- 
 ing some trifling questions, and had little hope of a 
 gayer termination of the repast, when an incident, 
 certainly not included in the instructions of Cambaceres 
 to his maitres d' hotel, gave a new turn to the aspect of 
 affairs. 
 
 Cambaceres had for some time placed his household on 
 a very respectable footing: his domestics had all the 
 superb livery of the Consuls, and the maitres d' hotel had 
 exchanged their black dresses for maroon cloth, with 
 wrought gold buttons. There were always two courses 
 at the Second Consul's, and as each course consisted of 
 eighteen or twenty removes, it may be supposed the arm 
 of the maitre d' hotel intruded pretty frequently between 
 each of the guests; but poor little Souza's stature pre- 
 sented no obstacle; the dishes passed over his head; and 
 on one of these occasions one of the purveyor's gold 
 buttons, being loose, hitched in the little gentleman's wig 
 and carried it off. 
 
 The catastrophe was sudden, and no one knew how it had 
 happened; even the maitre d hotel himself had moved some 
 distance before he discovered his involuntary theft ; mean- 
 while the bewildered eyes of M. de Souza were seeking 
 his wig in the direction of the ceiling, as if he imagined 
 it had really taken wings, and those of the thirty persons 
 around him, fixed on his startled figure, caused him an 
 embarrassment which completed the burlesque of his ap- 
 pearance. 
 
 Yet we should all have behaved decently had he taken 
 the accident in good part; but, wishing to be dignified 
 under his misfortune, he thought, perhaps, to impress us 
 vastly by saying, with the utmost seriousness, to the maitre 
 d hotel, who came in all haste to apologize: 
 
 w Sir, will you restore me my wig ? w And he set to work 
 to replace it; but the discomposure which was evident 
 through all his studied calmness prevented his accurately
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 415 
 
 distinguishing the position of the tuft a la Pitt, and the wig, 
 to my inexpressible satisfaction, was put on all askew, so 
 that the tuft just surmounted the right ear, till Madame 
 Jolivet, in a tone of more than usual acerbity (for she 
 was offended at the incivility of her neighbor, who had 
 not addressed a word to her since he had conducted her 
 to her seat), said to him, <( Sir, your wig is awry; M and 
 as she spoke she obligingly raised her hand to the head 
 of the little gentleman, who bounded away from her 
 friendly assistance with a vivacity that had nearly dashed 
 me to the ground. 
 
 I had avoided looking at either my husband or General 
 Mortier, certain that my suppressed laughter must have 
 burst forth ; it became, however, at length uncontrollable, 
 and appeared equally to master the whole company; for 
 no sooner had mine exploded than a mad and inextin- 
 guishable peal resounded from every side; but General 
 Mortier's was loudest, and so violent as to oblige him 
 eventually to rise from table. The polite host, on whose 
 imperfect vision this byplay was lost, no sooner under- 
 stood the matter than he exhausted himself in apologies 
 to M. de Souza, who, while panting with rage, replied, 
 bowing, that it was of no consequence; and the unfor- 
 tunate wig, in spite of Madame Jolivet's officious care, 
 remained awry. General Mortier, I am sure, will to this 
 day remember that dinner and the hearty laugh it af- 
 forded him. 
 
 Having mentioned Mortier, I must complete the por- 
 trait of a friend. General Edward Mortier, at the time 
 I knew him, in 1800, was of about the same age as most 
 of the general officers of the army; and this similarity 
 of years is not surprising, for the youth of France, in- 
 flamed with the love of their country and the desire of 
 defending her, simultaneously deserted their firesides to 
 enter the service. 
 
 These young men left their cherished families and 
 brilliant fortunes, that offered them all the enjoyments 
 of luxury, for hard couches and munition bread, which 
 they were seen carrying on the bayonet, gayly singing 
 the Marseillaise. But of all this bright and valorous 
 troop not a single young man was seen running about 
 Paris exciting the people to revolt, shouting at the clubs, 
 breaking the lamps, committing, in short, the acts of
 
 4 i6 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 men at once divested of reason and disaffected to public 
 order. 
 
 General Mortier lodged in a large Hotel in the Rue 
 des Capucines, with his wife, his sister-in-law, and a 
 young family. In the same house were Madame Cesar 
 Berthier (whose husband was under the command of 
 General Mortier), General Menard, and another. General 
 Mortier had married a young and charming wife, who 
 inspired me at first sight with friendship. 
 
 Without being extremely pretty, or in any other way 
 personally remarkable, she pleased by an expression of 
 mildness, and a general gracefulness which prepossessed at 
 the first glance. A good mother, and fond of her home, 
 from which it was difficult to entice her, her thoughts 
 were chiefly devoted to the domestic happiness of her 
 husband and family. She had an agreeable sister, per- 
 haps even prettier than Madame Mortier, but less pleas- 
 ing, as she had more formality and self-love. 
 
 In this house we seemed, from the moment of entering, 
 to breathe peace and happiness. I felt myself cheerful 
 as soon as I set my foot upon the staircase; but these 
 sensations would all have vanished had I but mistaken 
 the door and entered the ground floor, where a clam- 
 or prevailed that might have typified the infernal re- 
 gions. 
 
 General Cesar Berthier, brother of the Minister of War, 
 might be a very good soldier: I am no judge of such 
 matters. All I can say is, that he had a very genteel 
 and agreeable wife, whom he made miserable with so 
 little reserve that I speak of it no more openly than he 
 himself did in my presence, whom he scarcely knew. 
 Madame Cesar Berthier was sister of Madame Leopold 
 Berthier; but the manners of the two brothers widely 
 differed. Leopold, with more amenity of language and 
 more disposition to please than Cesar, does not appear to 
 have had much power over the heart of his wife, for she 
 divorced him to marry General Lasalle, the most amusing 
 and bravest of profligate hussars. Leopold had wit, a 
 qualification very scarce with Cdsar; and his stammer and 
 bluntness of language spoiled the little he had. Both 
 ladies were natives of Versailles; their maiden name was 
 d'Aiguillon, but they were no way related to the ducal 
 house of that name.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 417 
 
 Madame C£sar, when young - , must have been very en- 
 gaging, for she was well shaped, had a little turn-up 
 nose, fair hair, and arms of remarkable beauty. At the 
 time I knew her she was beginning to be marked with 
 an eruption, but she was still young, and on the whole 
 a pretty and elegant woman, fond of the toilet, and suc- 
 cessful in its disposition. Her daughter, Madame Bruyere, 
 is a charming woman. 
 
 My esteem for General Mortier was first inspired by 
 my husband, who had much regard for him, and held 
 both his civil character and military talents in high 
 respect.* 
 
 Probity and honor were among his conspicuous 
 virtues. Junot, who was restive under authority, and 
 knew how to obey only one man, was sometimes at issue 
 with his superior, which always grieved him. I have 
 often seen him, after writing a letter, repent, and im- 
 mediately disavow it; and constantly on such occasions 
 have I been witness of General Mortier's kindness of 
 character. 
 
 Though young, he had the advantage of Junot in years, 
 and slight as was the difference, it justified him in offer- 
 ing some fraternal and jesting remonstrances to his 
 junior, and sparing him many an unpleasant collision 
 with the First Consul, provoked by his hot-headedness, 
 which would certainly have been magnified by such men 
 as Bourrienne, Fouche, and some others, who, by their 
 situation about the First Consul, had access to his ear 
 to prejudice those who enjoyed his favor. General Mor- 
 tier's post gave him ample means of mischief, but he 
 never injured a single individual. 
 
 Mortier was distinguished from the moment of his en- 
 trance into the service. He first joined the Army of the 
 North, then that of the Rhine; and afterward, in our 
 day of misfortune, he valiantly seconded Mass£na in the 
 defeat of the Austro-Russian army. In the Moretta-Thal, 
 near Schwitz, he had a remarkable engagement, in which 
 he repulsed General Rosenberg, just arrived from Italy 
 with Russian troops to fall upon us; an action which 
 
 * The military reputation of General Mortier has no need of my pen 
 to illustrate it in its brilliancy ; but I would fain instance his integrity in 
 Hanover, which glorious era and many other achievements of his life 
 are attested by the eloquent lines of M. Bignon. 
 27
 
 418 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 had a direct influence on our fate, and France ought to 
 bear sincere gratitude toward all who belonged to this 
 Army of the Danube. 
 
 His conquest of the Electorate of Hanover, with an 
 army inferior in number by more than two-thirds to that 
 of the enemy; in short, the convention of Suhlingen con- 
 stitutes an honorable monument, which Marshal Mortier 
 raised at once to the glory of his country and to his 
 own. Again, he was in a most perilous situation at 
 Diernstein,* on the banks of the Danube, with only five 
 thousand men of the Gazan division. Encountered by 
 the Russian vanguard under the command of Prince 
 Bagration, twenty-five thousand strong, he not only re- 
 sisted, but forced his passage, and rejoined the main 
 army on the opposite side of the river. 
 
 At the head of the Eighth Corps in the next campaign, 
 1806, he attacked the Elector of Hesse Cassel, and in 
 one day the whole of Westphalia fell into our hands, 
 with the treasure, provisions, and military stores of the 
 enemy. Mortier might have been enriched by more than 
 glory in this action; but he left to his country the 
 charge of providing him with a recompense. Some 
 weeks afterward he took possession in the name of 
 France of the Electorate of Hanover, which his sword 
 had conquered two years previously. Here, though as 
 Marshal Commanding-in-Chief, and as it were thrice- 
 puissant Proconsul, he might have exercised his power 
 as he would — ask the inhabitants ! They will tell 
 you, even to this day, that Mortier's conduct was that of 
 an honest soldier. 
 
 Next came the day of Friedland, to which he valiantly 
 contributed. Then he went to take a command in the 
 Peninsula. The victory of Ocana, in destroying the 
 strongest of the insurgent armies, composed of fifty 
 thousand men, while the French were but twenty-five 
 thousand, was of immense importance to the interest of 
 France, for it decided the invasion of Andalusia. Having 
 penetrated the Sierra Morena, he did not entangle himself 
 in its defiles, but, leaving that task to Marshal Victor, he 
 traversed Spanish Estremadura, laid siege to Badajos, 
 carried it at the end of fifty-four days, and made seven 
 thousand prisoners. 
 
 *In 1805.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 419 
 
 Returning from thence to Russia at the head of the 
 Young Guard, he gave new proofs of devotion to his 
 country and its Chief. Then came the campaign of 1813. 
 Still in command of the Young Guard, Mortier's conduct 
 was, like the past, faithful and brave. Lutzen, Koenig- 
 swartha, Bautzen, Hochkirch, Wurtschen, and Reichen- 
 bach, saw his efforts, sometimes unsuccessful, but never 
 useless. 
 
 In the battle of Dresden, again, he deserved praise. 
 He defended, step by step, the soil of his country. 
 Overcome by the Prince of Sweden and General Bulow, 
 he fought not the less bravely at Craonne, La Fere, 
 Provins, Nangis, Meaux, Lagny, Saint Mand6, and at 
 length at Paris. 
 
 In retiring to his estate at Plessis Lalande, Marshal 
 Mortier has had leisure to meditate on the progressive 
 misfortunes of his country, that country which he had 
 served so gloriously. I have experienced a moment's 
 happiness in retracing so illustrious a life. It has not 
 many parallels. 
 
 CHAPTER LVIII. 
 
 The Quintidi and the Parade at the Tuileries — The Young Man with 
 the Petition — The First Consul and the Young Man — The Governor 
 of the Bastile and the Pension — M. De Latude, and Forty Years in 
 a Dungeon — M. de Sartine and Recriminations — Vincennes, the 
 Bastile, and Bicetre — Santerre, Rossignol and Ronsin — The Dyna- 
 mometer — The Revolutionary Army and the Infernal Legions — The 
 Girl and the Burned Village — General Charbonnier and the Aid- 
 de-Camp — «Art Thou a Good Patriot ?» — General Vandamme and 
 his Saber Exercise — The Village Ulterieur — The Scheldt a Fine 
 Road. 
 
 One Quintidi, * at the moment that the First Consul 
 was descending to hold the review in the court of 
 the Tuileries, an event happened sufficiently sin- 
 gular to attract attention and interest. In the dense 
 crowd that surrounded the line was a young man of 
 about fifteen, dressed in a worn but neat black coat, 
 
 * One of the ten days of which the « week* consisted — in the Revo- 
 lutionary Calendar.
 
 4 2o MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 which indicated that its master was above the hireling 
 class. His figure was interesting; he was pale, and his 
 neighbors observed that he trembled violently, often put 
 his hand to his bosom, and appeared impatient to see the 
 First Consul. 
 
 When the drums beat the young man's emotion became 
 so powerful that his breast was seen to swell with the 
 palpitation of his heart. The First Consul descended the 
 stairs, and, as he reached the middle of the vestibule, 
 the young man threw himself before him and presented 
 a paper. The last few months had so teemed with plots 
 and attempts against the life of the First Consul that 
 twenty arms, all strangers to his suite, were instantly 
 stretched forth to seize the boy, who, raising his hand 
 and fixing an imploring look on the First Consul, still 
 held forward his petition. 
 
 "Leave the young man — I am going to speak to him," 
 said the First Consul ; and advancing toward him : <( What 
 do you want, my boy ? M demanded he. 
 
 The young man could not reply, but falling on his 
 knees, presented his petition. The First Consul read it 
 with an expression of countenance which struck all who 
 surrounded him. His eyes then rested with a look of 
 deep commiseration on the still kneeling young man, to 
 whom he said: 
 
 w Rise, mon enfant; we kneel to God alone. Is your 
 mother still in Paris ? n 
 
 An almost stifled <( Yes * escaped the lips of the young 
 petitioner. 
 
 <c Acquaint her that a pension of twelve hundred francs 
 is awarded her, and will commence six months prior to 
 the present date." 
 
 At the sound of these words the poor youth fell again 
 on his knees, raising toward the First Consul his tearful 
 eyes and trembling hands, which endeavored to seize 
 his; but his emotion was too violent. His extreme pale- 
 ness increased on hearing the favor granted to his mother; 
 but it speedily gave place to purple. The veins of his 
 forehead swelled till they were ready to burst, his eyes 
 closed, he fell insensible at the feet of the First Consul, 
 and Nature bringing her own relief, a profuse hemor- 
 rhage ensued, and the First Consul was covered with the 
 poor boy's blood.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 421 
 
 (< A surgeon," cried he instantly — w a surgeon!" But 
 joy, it is said, is never fatal; the young man recovered 
 his senses, and bursting into tears, seized almost forcibly 
 the hand of the First Consul, and kissed it with trans- 
 port. 
 
 <c You are a Providence to my family!" exclaimed the 
 youth; (< I will pray for you every day of my life." 
 
 The First Consul smiled as he pressed the young hand, 
 and pursued his way to the review; but before he mounted 
 his horse he recommended the boy to Junot, and to the 
 Minister of War, and then gave him a friendly salute, 
 saying : 
 
 <( If you wish to enter the service, apply to the General 
 Commanding the City of Paris: he will mention it to the 
 Minister of War, and we will seek to do something for 
 you. " 
 
 The young man answered only with a low bow, and 
 followed the First Consul to the steps of the portico. He 
 saw the beautiful Ddsird brought; the General, leaping 
 lightly to his saddle, galloped off, and was soon amid 
 the thronged ranks of his soldiers, followed by a numer- 
 ous and brilliant suite, who surrounded him as the satel- 
 lites of a planet constantly revolve around their center; 
 he saw those grenadiers, still black with the powder of 
 Marengo, with their high leather caps overshadowing 
 their faces; that fine regiment of cJiassenrs y then com- 
 manded by Eugene Beauharnais; those gilded uniforms, 
 those horses, that military music; and last of all the 
 magician, who fascinated with his look of fire all who 
 approached the sphere of his influence. . . . The 
 young man cried: (< Yes, I will serve! I will be a sol- 
 dier, that a ray of that glory may fall on me." 
 
 This young man, so unfortunate and so grateful, was 
 the son of Monsieur Delaunay, Governor of the Bastile, 
 massacred the 14th of July, 1789. 
 
 Junot said to me one day: (< I must bring you into 
 conversation with a man of whom you have certainly 
 heard, and whose Memoirs, you have, of course, read; M. 
 de Latude — do you know him?" (< Ah!" I exclaimed; 
 <( M. de Latude, and you ask whether I know him ? I do 
 not know him personally, but I am well acquainted with 
 his misfortunes, which have so deeply interested me, 
 that I should be delighted to see himself." Two days
 
 422 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 afterward Junot told me : <( This morning M. de Latude 
 will breakfast with us; he will bring Madame Lemoine, 
 for he no more moves without her than without his 
 ladder. » 
 
 It was well known that M. de Latude, when young, 
 wanting to obtain a favor of Madame de Pompadour, 
 thought to excite her gratitude by writing her a letter with 
 his own signature, announcing that accident had just dis- 
 covered to him a plot for poisoning the Marchioness by 
 means of a box of confectionery, to be conveyed to her 
 that very day, after which, mixing a harmless emetic 
 with the sweetmeats, he dispatched them anonymously. 
 M. de Sartine, the Lieutenant General of Police, was sum- 
 moned in haste, and fell into great disgrace for having 
 suffered so heinous a plot to be detected by a stranger. 
 Returning enraged to his office, he accused his first com- 
 missary; he the second; and so on, till all their recrimina- 
 tions ended in a full disclosure of M. de Latude's artifice. 
 
 M. de Sartine's vengeance was proportioned, not to the 
 offense, but to the apprehensions he had endured from 
 the favorite's displeasure ; and the unfortunate intriguer was 
 thrown into a dungeon at Vincennes, without any judi- 
 cial form. At the end of three years he escaped by 
 means of a ladder manufactured from his own linen, was 
 retaken and confined ten years in the Bastile, when he 
 escaped a second time; was again overtaken by the ter- 
 rible vengeance of the Director of the Police, and find- 
 ing a new dungeon at Bicetre, was there recommended 
 to the extreme rigor of the governor: in short, his cap- 
 tivity for a harmless, though unworthy trick lasted thirty- 
 seven years. On his first release, Brunetiere had been 
 acquainted with him and had told me this story, but had 
 afterward lost sight of him, to my great relief, for I 
 ardently desired to see M. de Latude. 
 
 I received him with a respect and tenderness truly sin- 
 cere ; but my enthusiasm was not proof against an old 
 dotard repeating his oft-told tale with a soporific prolix- 
 ity, which occasioned me in despair to address Madame 
 Lemoine. She was a retired mercer, who one day pick- 
 ing up a packet in the Rue Saint Denis, found it to be 
 a tablet made of the crumb of bread on which, with a 
 large fishbone for his pen, the poor sufferer had written 
 in his own blood the history of his imprisonment.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 423 
 
 Madame de Pompadour and M. de Sartine being both 
 dead, Madame Lemoine, who lost no time in applying to 
 the Superintendent of Police, had little difficulty in pro- 
 curing his liberation in consideration of his long deten- 
 tion; she devoted herself wholly to her grateful prote'ge', 
 who always called her his guardian angel ; and uniting 
 their scanty means (for De Latude enjoyed from funds 
 at Junot's disposal a pension of two hundred francs), 
 they lived together nearly on the terms of father and 
 daughter. 
 
 His ladder was a real masterpiece of human patience; 
 it contained a hundred pieces of wood, all cut with a 
 penknife from the faggots which served him for fuel; 
 and the cord, composed of single threads drawn from his 
 linen, and twisted by himself, was nearly of the thickness 
 of my thumb. On his first flight from Vincennes his lad- 
 der was not long enough by fifteen feet, and he was 
 therefore obliged to drop down, and dislocated his wrist. 
 
 Madame Lemoine told us that the First Consul had 
 desired to see M. de Latude, and I pictured to myself 
 how completely he, who could not tolerate much talking 
 from his most intimate friends, would be wearied by the 
 puerile and tedious loquacity of this affecting victim 
 of despotism, who had passed forty-one years of his life 
 in various prisons. The visit of M. de Latude left a dis- 
 tressing impression on my mind, for it destroyed a pleas- 
 ing illusion. 
 
 In the course of the same week I experienced a sur- 
 prise of a different kind, also caused by a person I had 
 never seen, and whose name sounded in my ears like a 
 cry of carnage. 
 
 One morning, while we were at breakfast, a tall, stout 
 man presented himself, of an unobjectionable appearance 
 and countenance. Junot saluted him; but I perceived 
 that his salute was constrained. Our breakfast over, we 
 passed into the drawing-room. The stranger walked for- 
 ward with a firm and resolute step. "This is an odd 
 person, w thought I to myself. Junot offered him coffee, 
 which he refused with, <( No, thank you, General, I never 
 take my cup in the morning; as for a small glass, if 
 Mademoiselle will permit B 
 
 <( It is my wife, y> said Junot in a very serious tone. 
 
 "Ah! c' est la citoyenne Junot ! and the personage began
 
 424 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 to stare at me with an attention which excited rather 
 merriment than anger; for it was evident that this man, 
 though rude by nature, had no intention of being so. 
 Ah ! it is the citoyenne Junot ! Diable, colleague, you 
 have not taken your soundings ill. B 
 
 I whispered to Junot to tell me the name of this Gen- 
 eral, for it seemed that he had at least pretensions to 
 that title. "No," replied Junot, <c you must guess it; it 
 is a name prodigiously well known. n 
 
 Meanwhile the tall man was conversing with Junot's 
 first aid-de-camp, M. Laborde; but I could gather noth- 
 ing from the absurdities, solecisms, and ill-arranged 
 sentences, which were passing between them. 
 
 An instrument lay on the table, invented and con- 
 structed by Reigner, the mechanical armorer, for measur- 
 ing the human strength, by pressing with the two hands 
 two bands of leather which confine a semicircular plate of 
 brass, engraved with a scale, and furnished with a needle, 
 which is made to move in proportion to the force of the 
 pressure, and indicates by the number to which it points 
 the strength of the individual. 
 
 Junot took it up, and pressing it, made the needle run 
 so rapidly and forcibly, that it nearly struck the opposite 
 extremity of the dynamometer, indicating a very unusual 
 strength of wrist. The strange General then took up the 
 instrument, but instead of using, examined it, and then 
 said, laughing: 
 
 "Stay! that resembles those implements I took with 
 me when I went down yonder to the west with Ronsin 
 and Rossignol. I had also a learned aid-de-camp, a 
 mathematician, with me. 
 
 * Well, when the Convention appointed me to com- 
 mand the Republican army, I refused, because I know 
 myself, and know that I am not strong in the article of 
 maneuvers; I refused, but what of that? What the Con- 
 vention chose, it chose. I was obliged to take the com- 
 mand of one of the invincible columns. Ronsin commanded 
 another, and poor Rossignol, he had a third. Well, I 
 told you just now I had a learned aid-de-camp. He 
 declared to the Convention that all the instruments, of 
 which he gave me a list, would be required for this 
 campaign, and they gave me them all. Two little 
 wagons were filled with them.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 425 
 
 <( Away I carried them; my aid-de-camp, Platiere, made 
 use of them, and then sold them;" and he ended with a 
 loud laugh ; but my laughter stopped short. This speech 
 had made him known. 
 
 It was Santerre! Santerre the brewer, of the Faubourg 
 Saint Antoine, who was, on the nth of August, 1792, 
 appointed Commandant of the Parisian National Guard, 
 who had the custody of the Royal Family in the Temple, 
 and who commanded the troops on the 21st of January, 
 1793; he was first sent into La Vend6e to command a 
 corps with those two wretches whom he had named in 
 my hearing. I had heard from inhabitants of Saumur, 
 Montagne, and other neighboring towns, frightful details 
 of all that Santerre had done in La Vendue. 
 
 Though his name is known as associated with the great 
 political tragedy, yet it figures in a few lines of history, 
 and on one or two pages so stained with blood as to 
 destroy the possibility of distinguishing those actions in 
 which he figures. I knew much of him, but was, I con- 
 fess, far from imagining that this man would himself 
 become the narrator, to afford me new light on the 
 horrors committed in La Vendue by what were called the 
 Infernal Legions, commanded by himself, Ronsin, and 
 Rossignol. He required no hint to assure us, himself, 
 that he had written to the Ministry of War, and at the 
 same time to the authorities, advising them to send wag- 
 ons loaded with combustibles into La Vendee to con- 
 sume all the woods and coppices, and even all furze, 
 heath, and broom, by fire, so as to cut off the retreat of 
 the Vendeans. 
 
 <( It is a terrible conception to be tolerated by reason, w 
 said Junot, when this man was gone ; (< and yet perhaps 
 humanity itself would have followed that course, in order 
 to put an end in six months to evils which lasted forty. 
 It would at least have been more humane than letting 
 loose upon them, like bloodhounds, the capitulated gar- 
 risons of Mayence and Valenciennes, and afterward those 
 Infernal Legions led by the dregs of the most abject 
 Jacobins. * 
 
 I asked him why he would not tell me Santerre's 
 name. 
 
 C( Faith, because I did not care to introduce to you so 
 creditable an acquaintance. I am not best pleased with
 
 426 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 his visits, and accordingly they are not very frequent. 
 He is an odious creature; he is neither military, civil, 
 citizen, nor artisan; he abandoned his own profession, 
 and all the professions at whose doors he has knocked 
 have refused him admission. Republican General as I 
 am, it is not possible for me to give my hand in the 
 middle of the Tuileries gardens to Santerre, the Revolu- 
 tionary General, which means General commanding the 
 Revolutionary army, where the guillotine marched always 
 in readiness, like a piece of artillery with the match 
 alight. * I do not like such characters, w said Junot ; (< I 
 am a Republican by taste and principle; but I have a 
 horror of the blood, the massacres, the confiscations, 
 which constituted that frightful system of horror under 
 which France groaned for several years. Santerre is a 
 wretch, and he is under a sort of surveillance from the 
 Staff of Paris, which obliges him to present himself, I 
 believe, once a fortnight. Well! this man, I am sure, 
 says now that I am haughty, and have not fraternized 
 with him; no, certainly I have not, because I cannot 
 esteem him." 
 
 I inquired whether he was brave; several officers, who 
 had arrived since his departure, answered no — that is, 
 that his reputation was extremely doubtful. 
 
 Santerre once wrote to the Commune of Paris: <( Learn 
 that I have burned all the mills, with one single excep- 
 tion, and this narrowly escaped; I fortunately learned 
 before setting it on fire that it belonged to a patriot. B 
 
 In a hamlet near Savenay he met with a young girl, 
 who pleased him, and he told her so. Her instant answer 
 was, that she was a Vendean, and he not only a Blue, 
 but a chief of the Blues, and that, consequently, there 
 existed between them obstacles which could never be 
 removed. The girl had a grandfather, sixty-five years 
 of age. The Chief of the Blues had the village again 
 ransacked, and finally burned; he then carried off the 
 young girl and her unhappy grandfather, who died in a 
 state of idiocy from grief ! Poor old man, and poor 
 France ! 
 
 At this period of my life, no day passed that I did 
 not see Napoleon, at least, unless my mother was very 
 
 * Lannes, Bessieres, and several other Generals of Napoleon were 
 known to entertain similar view.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 427 
 
 ill. It was easy for me to seek a conversation with him 
 upon what I had seen, nor was he backward in question- 
 ing- me about all that interested me, so that he was not 
 long in ignorance of Santerre's visit. 
 
 <( How is that ? • said Napoleon ; (< I thought he had 
 been dead these four years. Well, what say you of him? 
 Is he not handsome and engaging ? These are the honest 
 men who would fain see the happy days of 1793 restored. 
 M. Santerre would find it delightful to obtain the epaulettes 
 of Lieutenant-General, as he did those of Brigadier- 
 General, by leading to the scaffold men less worthless than 
 himself. Did you know Rossignol ? * I had never seen 
 him; but in the course of a quarter of an hour I was 
 perfectly acquainted with him, for his own question 
 brought to the First Consul's recollection accumulated 
 details respecting this man, Ronsin, and Charpentier, 
 which were really curious; and Junot afterward filled 
 up their outlines for me. 
 
 <( He is one of the most remarkable evidences that we 
 can oppose to all that the manifestoes have said against 
 us, w observed the First Consul, when the name of Char- 
 pentier was mentioned. a That man commanded an army 
 — that of the Rhine, at a time when we had everything 
 to fear; all our frontiers were exposed, like a dismantled 
 town after an assault, yet perhaps no victories have been 
 more splendid than those then gained by young soldiers, in 
 absolute want of bread, shoes, money, and of clothing, 
 and under Generals such as Charbonnier, Santerre, Ron- 
 sin, and Rossignol. Rossignol, speaking of Les Echelles, 
 in Savoy, said one day in a Committee of Public Safety, 
 with perfect seriousness: 
 
 <( <I can easily understand that my infantry could pass, 
 because my men, however loaded, can mount a ladder; 
 but for my cavalry and artillery, though a thousand 
 devils should interfere, they could not teach a horse to 
 climb a ladder. ' w 
 
 On the subject of General Charbonnier no one was 
 more amusing than M. Dietrich the lively young officer 
 I met at the Opera the evening of the explosion of the 
 infernal machine. He had served on the staff in Holland, 
 when Vandamme, happily for the army, was also there. 
 It was ascertained one morning that the English had 
 landed. M. Dietrich was instantly sent to the head-
 
 428 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 quarters of the General-in-Chief; this was General Char- 
 bonnier, who, though it was but little after nine, was 
 found at a table, and already half intoxicated. 
 
 8 General, w said he to the unprepared Commander, w the 
 English have landed — your orders are urgently wanted; 
 be pleased to honor me with them, and I will instantly 
 set out again. w 
 
 The booby of a pretended warrior looked at him with 
 eyes somewhat unsteady, and inquired: 
 
 8 Art thou a good patriot ? w 
 
 8 Yes, my General. w 
 
 tt Well ! seat yourself there ; breakfast, and send the 
 English to the devil. w 
 
 M. Dietrich was then but eighteen, full of gayety and 
 mirth: and certainly his mirth could not want a better 
 occasion ; but he feared General Vandamme, who, he very 
 well knew, was capable of shortening him by the head 
 had he failed in any part of his duty. Aware of the 
 critical nature of his situation, he endeavored, while the 
 General-in-Chief employed himself in swallowing some 
 dozens of Ostend oysters, to persuade him into giving 
 orders for the regiments to march ; but, finding all his 
 efforts unavailing, he was at length resolving to return to 
 the Chief of the Staff, when Charbonnier, who, like all 
 drunkards, had one fixed notion, recalled him. 
 
 <( Stay there, * said he; (< I am going to speak to you — 
 take a glass. * 
 
 "Thank you, General, but it is too early; I am neither 
 hungry nor thirsty. B 
 
 "What! too early! I am wrong, then, in drinking and 
 getting my breakfast ? Well, thou art but a silly prattler. 
 Take a glass, I tell you. w 
 
 M. Dietrich accordingly drank his health, in hopes of 
 soothing him and being permitted to retire, but the latter 
 was more easily proposed than executed. 
 
 8 So, B said the General, (< you are a good patriot ! * 
 
 <( Yes, General, a very good patriot ; but, unhappily, so 
 insignificant a point is not the present question. A serious 
 object has brought me here. General Vandamme is ex- 
 pecting me, and is, meanwhile, exposed to the enemy's 
 fire. » 
 
 There had been some fighting, and an hour's suspension 
 of arms had been agreed on, to wait M. Dietrich's
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 429 
 
 return. Vandamme was one of the bravest men in the 
 world, but fiery and passionate, and quite capable of sur- 
 prising and killing General Charbonnier. The young 
 officer's head was filled with these reflections; he had no 
 hope but in the General's speedily rising from table, and 
 that a cup of coffee might sober him. Suddenly he heard 
 the cannon, and a brisk fire of musketry; and, starting 
 up, he exclaimed: 
 
 <( Do you hear ? do you hear ? In the name of Heaven, 
 General, call one of your officers, and send orders! w 
 
 <( What is the matter now ? Leave me alone, you and 
 your Republic. Leave me alone to finish my break- 
 fast as becomes a General-in-Chief. M 
 
 « But, General » 
 
 <( Ah ! this is too much ; I repeat to you, once for all, 
 leave me in peace. M 
 
 <( But, General, you are exposing the army to the 
 greatest danger. * 
 
 "Bhrrr!" — and he began to sing. 
 
 <( General Vandamme's division cannot possibly hold out 
 without support. It will be compelled to yield the ground! 
 Where would you have it take refuge if obliged to 
 fly?» 
 
 <( Ah! they in flight! — they! No, no! — and if they 
 should, leave them alone ; the fools know the roads well 
 enough. w 
 
 At that moment the quick gallop of a horse was heard ; 
 in less than a minute General Vandamme was in the 
 room, and his saber whizzing round the ears of Char- 
 bonnier. 
 
 A nobler figure than that of General Vandamme at 
 this period cannot well be imagined; his finely-formed 
 head, his regular features, his beautiful curly hair, his 
 glistening eyes, which, when angry, seemed to flash fire, 
 his exquisitely-turned hand, altogether opposed a perfect 
 contrast to the ignoble appearance of Charbonnier. Van- 
 damme, justly incensed, stood before his brutalized chief, 
 making his sword fly round his head, and recommending 
 him to prepare for instant death. 
 
 <( This is thy last hour, wretch! How! is thy soul base 
 enough to deliver up thy comrades to be massacred by 
 the enemy, and that enemy the English ? Let every- 
 thing be instantly in order; let the troops march; or
 
 43© MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 rather stay here and sleep thyself sober; the army has 
 no need of thee to conquer. * And pushing - Charbonnier 
 from him with a violence that flung him to the farther 
 end of the room, he went away with Dietrich, and both 
 jumping on their horses, rushed into the midst of the 
 fire just as the artillery opened. 
 
 Vandamme's valor in circumstances doubly critical from 
 the stupidity or treason of Charbonnier was eminently 
 conspicuous. The incapacity of one might have destroyed 
 the army, but the courage and conduct of the other saved 
 it. This was the first attempted descent of the English, 
 before the arrival of Brune in Holland. 
 
 Charbonnier, after the departure of Vandamme, began 
 to grow gradually sober. The cannonading was so inces- 
 sant that he could not doubt the whole army was en- 
 gaged. In the midst of his intemperance, and of that 
 thick cloud which blocked up every avenue to his brain, 
 he yet retained some portion of that bravery which made 
 him originally remarkable, and had procured for him the 
 appointment of a military Proconsul. He plunged his 
 head into water, and mounting his horse, hastened to the 
 battle; but all was already retrieved by General Van- 
 damme. 
 
 Afterward, when peace and order had revisited us, the 
 First Consul awarded to each his due. Charbonnier returned 
 to the rank of a Chief of Battalion, and had the com- 
 mand of a garrison. It was this same Charbonnier, who, 
 receiving one day dispatches from the Convention, which 
 directed him to wait ulterior orders {des ordres tdtfrieurs), 
 spent a whole week in seeking on the map the village 
 Ult£rieur. 
 
 Another time, when he was giving very particular or- 
 ders for the passage of cavalry from Antwerp, the Com- 
 missary, who had attentively followed Charbonnier's 
 finger on the map, ventured to ask him where the road was. 
 
 (< What ! w said the General ; (< do not you see this 
 road ? • 
 
 w I see nothing, General." 
 
 <( How ! " and he stamped, for he was passionate — 
 " how ! not see that road ! It is large enough, however ; 
 it is superb ! I am sure it is more than a hundred feet 
 wide ! " 
 
 I can well believe that, for it was the Scheldt !
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 431 
 
 CHAPTER LIX. 
 
 M. Charles — Unimpeachable Antecedents — Madame Bonaparte at the 
 Serbelloni Palace — Espionage of Madame Leclerc — Bonaparte's 
 Eyes, and the Police of the Hall of the Throne — Arrest of M. 
 Charles at Milan — Conversation with Pauline Bonaparte — Recip- 
 rocal Affliction and Consolation — Madame Bonaparte's First Resi- 
 dence at Malmaison — Madame La Generale — Sister Rosalie and 
 the Almoner of the Army of Egypt — The Master in the Master's 
 Absence — Madame Bonaparte's Divorce Advised by Gohier — Return 
 from the Army of Egypt, and Banishment of M. Charles — Bona- 
 parte and Duroc on the Boulevards, and Unexpected Encounter — 
 Junot's Friendship for M. Charles — The True Friends of Junot. 
 
 Among the friends introduced to me by Junot were 
 some whose names especially attracted my attention ; 
 for instance, Monsieur Charles, born at Romans, 
 of an obscure family, who entered the army at the com- 
 mencement of the Revolution, in a troop of cavalry 
 formed at Besancpn, and was a Lieutenant, when being- 
 ordered into Italy, he was attached as Assistant to the 
 Adjutant-General Leclerc at Milan; and when the latter, 
 on his marriage with Pauline Bonaparte, was made a 
 Brigadier-General, Charles was also promoted to the rank 
 of Captain and appointed aid-de-camp to the General. 
 
 Just at this time Madame Bonaparte (Josephine) arrived 
 at Milan, and lodged at the Serbelloni Palace, where she 
 had an establishment as a Sovereign. 
 
 M. Charles was introduced to her in common with all 
 the officers of the army, and as he belonged to the 
 establishment of General Bonaparte's brother-in-law, he 
 obtained more than common attention. 
 
 Napoleon, almost always absent from home, was either 
 occupied in Milan itself, or in journeys in the neighbor- 
 hood; he therefore did not see anything that transpired 
 there but what fell immediately beneath his own eye. 
 His sister, Madame Leclerc, was not like him; she was 
 unoccupied, but desired some sort of employment, and 
 therefore commenced a strict watch over the conduct of 
 a sister-in-law whom she hated, such an occupation being 
 as good as any other; but I believe she deceived herself, 
 for although she was not long in ascertaining that M.
 
 432 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 Charles and Madame Bonaparte were in close communi- 
 cation, and that this intimacy occupied much of their 
 thoughts, she found that this attachment might be, but was 
 not in fact, anything more than a tender friendship. 
 
 M. Charles was about twenty-seven or twenty-eight 
 years of age ; small, well made, with good features, a dark, 
 clear complexion, and hair black as jet; he was altogether 
 attractive, although a little deficient in the polish of ele- 
 gant society. He wore a superb hussar's uniform covered 
 with gold lace, and breakfasted at the Serbelloni Palace 
 whenever Napoleon left it, and no one in the army or in 
 Milan was a stranger to the interest Madame Bonaparte 
 testified for him. 
 
 This fact reached at length the General-in-Chief. 
 Through whom ? Probably his own eyes ! So it might 
 certainly be presumed; for those penetrating eyes consti- 
 tuted the sole police of the Throne Room at the Tuileries: 
 and such was their clearness and precision that the dark- 
 est corner of the Hall would scarcely avail to escape their 
 keen inquisition. Be this as it may, at the headquarters 
 of the Army of Italy it was suddenly rumored that M. 
 Charles had been arrested by order of the General-in- 
 Chief, and would certainly be shot. 
 
 I do not answer for the cause of General Bonaparte's 
 displeasure against M. Charles; I am narrating only, and 
 though, like Werther, I should narrate the same thing for 
 the tenth time, I could say no more than I do, that M. 
 Charles was arrested against the will, and perhaps on 
 account of Madame la Ghie'rale-en-chef, a proceeding griev- 
 ous to both, at least so it may be presumed. Madame 
 Leclerc, who was known to be goodness itself, said to 
 me, (< In short, conceive, Laurette, that my sister-in-law 
 had nearly died of vexation ; and we certainly do not 
 die of vexation from merely parting with our friends. 
 There must be more than friendship concerned in this 
 matter. For my part, I have comforted my brother, who 
 was very unhappy. He was aware of it all when he 
 came to Paris, before he set out for Egypt. Poor 
 brother! » 
 
 And the kind sister pitied him most liberally for the 
 unhappiness which she herself had probably caused him. 
 Madame Leclerc was a droll character to study. She has 
 been well sketched and well painted; but so strange was
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 433 
 
 her character, that no one has ever succeeded in making 
 a finished picture of her. 
 
 M. Charles was obliged to quit the Army of Italy, and, 
 returning to Paris, the interest of Madame Bonaparte 
 procured him a partnership in the mercantile house of 
 Louis Bodin; there he made a great fortune, which was 
 afterward impaired. He kept a good house, and associ- 
 ated with the bankers, the only class which held regular 
 receptions at the time of Madame Bonaparte's return 
 from Italy, and her husband's departure for Egypt. It 
 was then she purchased Malmaison, and established her- 
 self there. 
 
 A friend of my mother, who was inhabiting Ruelle, 
 used to tell us that she saw Madame la Ge'ne'rale, the name 
 she was known by in the village, walking very late in 
 the garden. <( By moonlight, " said Rosalie, (( and when, 
 leaning on the arm of her son, her white dress and flow- 
 ing veil are contrasted with his dingy attire of black or 
 blue, the effect is quite fantastic. They might be taken 
 for phantoms. Poor woman ! she is then thinking, perhaps, 
 of her first husband, who fell a victim to the Revolu- 
 tionary executioners! Thinking also of him by whom, 
 through the mercy of Providence, her loss is repaired, 
 and of whom a cannon ball may in a moment deprive 
 her. How does he manage, down yonder, to hear mass 
 amid all those Turks, Mademoiselle Laure ? • asked the 
 pious girl. <( Why, I suppose he has a chaplain, * answered 
 I; and at that time I really believed it. 
 
 Madame Bonaparte sometimes came to Paris to visit 
 Barras, Madame Tallien, and Madame Gohier, to whom 
 she was very partial; sometimes she would also see her 
 mother and brothers-in-law, but not often, for she did 
 not like them ; the war, however, though certainly mutual, 
 was not begun on their side. She was then in direct 
 hostility with Joseph, the mildest and best of men, and 
 at enmity with Madame Bonaparte the mother, and Ma- 
 dame Lucien, an angel of goodness. I know not what 
 caused the animosity that had arisen between them, but 
 I was sufficiently acquainted with Madame Laetitia and 
 Madame Christine to answer for them. 
 
 Malmaison, at the time I am speaking of, was a pretty 
 country house with agreeable environs, but very incon- 
 venient and most unwholesome. Brunetiere, who was 
 28
 
 434 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 somehow mixed up in the affair, told me that Madame 
 Bonaparte had made this acquisition as a child buys a 
 new toy that strikes her fancy, without considering 
 whether it will long amuse her. The park was small, 
 sloping on all sides, and resembled a pretty English 
 garden. 
 
 It was inclosed, excepting the length of the lawn in 
 front of the chateau, with a wall stretching along the 
 road of St. Germain ; the lawn was bordered with a ha- 
 ha, on the brink of which stood a small flight of iron 
 steps, affording a resting place and a view over the road, 
 which could also be seen from the park. The fine planta- 
 tions that now surround the chdteau, and all its out-offices, 
 were not then in existence. 
 
 M. Charles inhabited Malmaison in the quality of mas- 
 ter; friends, we know, have privileges. Gohier, who 
 was always thrown into a brown study by the recollec- 
 tion of the 1 8th Brumaire, but was otherwise an honest 
 and sensible man, strongly persuaded Josephine to a de- 
 cided step. 
 
 <( Divorce," said he, when all in tears she refused the 
 advice he gave her to break off a connection which com- 
 promised her in the eyes of the world, <( divorce ; you tell 
 me it is only friendship that exists between M. Charles 
 and yourself ; but if that friendship is so strong that it 
 impels you to violate the observances of the world, I shall 
 say to you, as if it were love, divorce ; because friendship 
 so exclusive will stand in lieu of all other sentiments. 
 Believe me, all this will cause you regret. * Gohier was 
 right; he saw the matter in its true light, but Josephine 
 would not listen. 
 
 When, after his return from Egypt, Bonaparte was on 
 the point of himself effecting what Gohier had some 
 months previously advised should be done prudently and 
 quietly, Josephine screamed, wept, and was in despair. 
 She would not hear of a divorce when he was at a dis- 
 tance, much less could she endure it when the splendor 
 of his glory enlightened all Europe with its rays ; but in 
 consenting to surrender his proposal, he exacted, as an 
 absolute condition, the banishment of M. Charles, and 
 her promise never to see him more. 
 
 Napoleon detested M. Charles; he never mentioned 
 him, or suffered him to be named in his presence. But
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 435 
 
 I know some incidents on this subject which have ex- 
 cessively surprised me, for I did not believe him sus- 
 ceptible of so much emotion. 
 
 One morning- when Napoleon was walking- out with 
 Duroc to survey the works of the bridge of Austerlitz, 
 which was then building, a cabriolet dashed at a rapid 
 pace along the boulevard. Duroc felt the Emperor press 
 his arm for support and rest heavily upon it, and saw 
 him at the same time grow unusually pale. Duroc would 
 have cried out for assistance, but the Emperor silenced 
 him with, <( It is nothing; be quiet ! M The cabriolet con- 
 tained M. Charles, whom Napoleon had not seen so close 
 since he left Italy. 
 
 What could be the sentiment which agitated him? Was 
 it still love for Josephine? He loved her no longer; he 
 was then attached to an enchanting woman, the only one 
 he ever really loved. Napoleon considered this man his 
 enemy, and hated him. 
 
 Not so Junot; he had been intimately associated with 
 M. Charles in Italy, and they entertained for each other 
 a sincere friendship. Junot did not always bestow his 
 regard so well; he was far more easily deceived by ap- 
 pearances than I was on his behalf, frequently granting 
 his friendship where it was betrayed, while he denied it 
 to his true friends. How long did he distress me re- 
 specting Duroc! but at length he came to his senses. 
 Duroc was the best of friends. 
 
 M. Charles purchased, in the year 1803 or 1804, a 
 property called Casan. His affairs being subsequently 
 much embarrassed it was sold, and he returned to Ro- 
 mans, his native town, where he lived retired and re- 
 spectably.
 
 436 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 CHAPTER LX. 
 
 Superior Men Appreciators of Bonaparte — Rival Generals — Kleber's 
 Feelings toward General Bonaparte — Kleber's Letters — Bona- 
 parte's Eyes Turned toward the East — Projects of a Great Man — 
 Desire of Preserving Egypt — Explanation of Bonaparte's Return 
 from Egypt — The Army of Druses — The Successor of Kleber — 
 General Menou — Junot, Lanusse. and the Consequences of a Duel — 
 Bonaparte's Enmity toward Tallien. 
 
 All the leaders of thought of the day have avoided 
 either thinking or speaking ill of Napoleon. 
 Chateaubriand, Lamartine, Victor Hugo, Casimir 
 Delavigne, the Abbe de la Mennais, all these men have 
 passed judgment on the Colossus; they have seen his 
 faults, but have recognized his great qualities: these 
 learned men have not spared their criticism, mingled 
 with approbation. Kleber, though his enemy, yet pro- 
 foundly admired him, because his fine genius was capa- 
 ble of appreciating greatness. 
 
 When Bonaparte was Commander-in-Chief in Italy, 
 other Generals, jealous of that young head so useful to 
 his country, coitld not assemble but they must discuss, 
 with reflections not over-charitable, the military oper- 
 ations of the young General, who, as some said, after 
 having announced his intention of conquering Italy, like 
 another Hannibal, was now gone, like him, to take his 
 rest at Capua. This was in allusion to his retiring on 
 Piedmont after having threatened Lombardy. 
 
 Kleber, who had talent enough to understand this 
 maneuver, and who, being yet a stranger to Napoleon, 
 was not then at variance with him (which, it may be 
 observed, he uniformly was with the General command- 
 ing him), did full justice to Bonaparte's abilities, both 
 military and civil; and on these occasions always de- 
 fended him against the mediocrity which attacked him, 
 with that vigor and generosity inspired by talent and 
 courage. 
 
 Bonaparte was haunted by visions of the East. He 
 would sometimes dilate on this subject for three hours
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 437 
 
 without intermission, and often uttered the greatest follies 
 with inconceivable seriousness. He frequently conversed 
 on the subject of the East with our friend Admiral 
 Magon, questioning him upon India. Napoleon would 
 listen with avidity, watching the Rear-Admiral's counte- 
 nance, and seeming to snatch the words from his lips. 
 Sometimes he would exclaim: 
 
 "It is there — it is in India we must attack the English 
 power. It is there we must strike her! The Russians will 
 not allow us a passage to Persia; well, then, we must 
 get there by another road. I know that road, and I will 
 take it ! » 
 
 Originally, Turkey was the scene of his projects; but 
 his ideas were afterward very different, and more prac- 
 ticable. When the Egyptian expedition was at last de- 
 cided on, Napoleon said to Junot and to some others of 
 his officers: 
 
 (< I am going to repair, if possible, the misfortune of 
 our ravaged or lost colonies. Egypt will be a magnifi- 
 cent compensation; and the acquisition of that beautiful 
 country for France shall be the object of this expedi- 
 tion. » 
 
 Such were his predominant views during the passage, 
 on his arrival, and while he resided there. How much 
 did he suffer when he saw his fleet destroyed, and all 
 the means of internal safety endangered by that loss! 
 
 Bonaparte's ardent passion for the retention of Egypt 
 is so well known to all who were with him, that it 
 appears to me impossible for the most perverted mind to 
 see his return to Europe in any other light than as a 
 struggle for the preservation of that colony, which in his 
 very dreams formed a nucleus for the incessant discharge 
 of shafts against England. 
 
 Was his project of forming a junction with an army 
 of thirty thousand Druses near Mount Lebanon nothing ? 
 and that of conquering those parts of Egypt that were 
 inhabited by tribes easily guided, uniting those tribes 
 with the Druses, and attempting to penetrate into Persia, 
 was this nothing ? 
 
 One day, speaking of Egypt, he made use of an ex- 
 pression which I then thought very extraordinary, and I 
 jokingly reminded him of it three days before his coro- 
 nation.
 
 438 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 (< It is vexatious, * said he, <( to have been prevented 
 meeting my Druses; I missed my fortune." 
 
 General Menou had been long in the service before the 
 breaking out of the Revolution; had served in India 
 and had acquired in his travels a love of the marvelous 
 sufficiently amusing, but which prevented all reliance on 
 his tales. It is a singular coincidence that this same 
 General, the Marquis de Menou, who turned Turk in 
 1801, presided over the Constituent Assembly on the 19th 
 of June, 1790, when those throngs were introduced, call- 
 ing themselves Arabians, Chaldeans, Syrians, Americans, 
 Poles, Prussians, etc., etc., and he very gravely replied 
 to the oration of the Arabs : (< Gentlemen, it was Arabia 
 which gave the first lesson of philosophy to Europe: 
 France now discharges the debt by giving you lessons of 
 liberty." When commanding the Republican troops, he 
 was defeated at Saumur by La Rochejaquelin and Les- 
 cure. On the 14th of October he commanded in Paris, 
 but resigned. 
 
 Of an adventurous disposition, though no longer young, 
 he joined the Egyptian expedition by his own desire. 
 By the assassination of Kleber after the battle of Heli- 
 opolis, he, as senior, succeeded to the command. His 
 administration was able, but, like that of the Generals of 
 Madame de Pompadour and Madame du Barry, dis- 
 tinguished by the goodness of its suppers and the disgrace 
 of its army. 
 
 Abercrombie, with 18,000 Englishmen, landed at this 
 same strand of Aboukir, and Menou lost the Battle of 
 Canopus, and with it the possession of Egypt. Shut up 
 in Alexandria, and cut off from all communication with 
 the rest of his army, he had not even the consolation of 
 effecting the reduction of Cairo, a charge which devolved 
 upon Belliard: the definitive capitulation at length re- 
 ceived his signature, and, returning to Europe, he was 
 well received by Napoleon, who appointed him Admin- 
 istrator-General of Piedmont. 
 
 One day, soon after the arrival of General Vial, the 
 envoy of General Abdalla Menou, the First Consul being 
 in his cabinet with Berthier, Junot, and Bourrienne, 
 who were busily unsealing the numerous fumigated 
 packets brought by General Vial, the First Consul 
 hinted his intention of changing the command of the
 
 DUCHESS OF ABPANTES 439 
 
 Eastern army; he spoke of Menou, lauded his pleasing 
 manners in a drawing-room, his agreeable way of telling 
 a story. 
 
 "But," added he, "all that is useless at the head of an 
 army ; and Kleber, with his cynical sayings and his rough 
 exterior, is far better suited to the Army of Egypt in 
 its present situation." The generals then in Egypt came 
 under consideration, and when Berthier named some of 
 them he shook his head; at length he resumed the 
 conversation after a long silence, and as if talking to 
 himself: 
 
 <( Regnier ? — Damas ? — Friant ? — No, none of these. — 
 Belliard ? — He is a child, though a brave one. — Old 
 Leclerc ? — No. — Well! after all, Abdalla Joseph Menou 
 serves our turn best yonder, Berthier; but we must give 
 him an able chief of the staff, or rather second in com- 
 mand, and here we have a choice." 
 
 This suggested an idea to Junot. "General," said he, 
 " you know best what you are about, but / know whom I 
 should choose." The First Consul turned on him an 
 interrogative look. "General Lanusse." 
 
 " Oh ! oh ! you do not bear malice ? " 
 
 " Why should I, my General ? I fought Lanusse for a 
 foolish gaming quarrel, which, besides, was but a pretext. 
 I thought he was not attached to you, that he partook 
 the sentiments of General Damas." 
 
 "Oh! as to him, he does not like me, indeed! Well, I 
 have a great mind to appoint him." 
 
 " General Damas, my General ? " 
 
 "Yes. Lanusse has talent and courage, but Damas is 
 not behind him in either, and as a general officer he is 
 of quite a different caliber: besides, Lanusse has con- 
 founded democratical notions, and is in correspondence, 
 as well as his brother, with a man so immoral as to com- 
 promise even his acquaintances; think of the effect M. 
 Tallien's friendly support must produce. I do not like 
 M. Tallien. I hate that man; he is wicked himself, and 
 a corrupter of others. The two Lanusses are both game- 
 sters, and they have learned it of him. But Damas, he 
 is an Aristides." 
 
 This was true. Damas was one of those virtuous and 
 extraordinary men whom nature but rarely molds. 
 
 He died only two or three years ago, in the Rue du
 
 440 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 Saint Pere, Faubourg Saint Germain, in the bosom of 
 his numerous family; his funeral was simple (for his 
 circumstances had been very limited), and borrowed all 
 its solemnity from the presence of a group of generals, 
 his former brethren-in-arms. General Edward Colbert, 
 his aid-de-camp in Egypt, pronounced his funeral oration, 
 in which he professed his attachment to his former 
 General. 
 
 CHAPTER LXI. 
 
 Lucien's Embassy to Madrid — Bonaparte's Orders Relative to Egypt 
 
 — Lucien's Letter to General Menou — A Faithful Friend of the 
 Republic — Reduction of Egypt, and Tardy Mission — Sicily — 
 Naples and M. Alquier — The Sister of the Queen of the French 
 
 — Mesdames de France at the Palace of Caserta — M. Goubaud, the 
 Roman Painter — The Princesses and the Tricolored Cravat — The 
 Painter of the Emperor's and King of Rome's Cabinet. 
 
 At this time, Lucien having accomplished the princi- 
 pal object of his embassy in Spain, turned his 
 attention to his brother's orders respecting Egypt, 
 and sent my brother-in-law, M. Geouffre, on a mission 
 to General Menou ; he had at first selected for that service 
 M. Clement, first adjutant of the Consular Guard, and 
 embarked him at Barcelona; but the secret had not been 
 well kept ; the English were apprised of the hour of 
 sailing, and M. Clement, with his written instructions, 
 fell into their hands. 
 
 Lucien was satisfied of my brother-in-law's entire de- 
 votion to him, and felt, moreover, assured that with his 
 address, experience, and knowledge of the world, he 
 would not suffer his mission to miscarry, even though he 
 should be taken by the English, who lay in wait at the 
 entrance of every port to take every vessel that ventured 
 from shore. 
 
 The French ambassador obtained an order from the 
 King of Spain for the arming of an American vessel ; my 
 brother-in-law embarked in the disguise of a sailor, and 
 as far as Malta the voyage was favorable. There he was 
 informed of Menou's capitulation; but not being able
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 441 
 
 absolutely to rely on his authority, determined, as the 
 safest course, to seek some Italian port, and attaching 
 two of his comrades to his fortunes, they took flight in 
 a small boat, and landed on the Sicilian coast, which they 
 found entirely deserted, the inhabitants being frightened 
 away by the frequent invasions of Algerine corsairs. 
 
 The sanitary laws of Sicily were that year excessively 
 severe, under the apprehension not only of the plague, 
 but also of the yellow fever, which was raging violently 
 in Spain. As any quarantine would have subjected him 
 to extreme inconvenience and delay, M. Geouffre took 
 every possible precaution to avoid observation, and found 
 an asylum for the night in an old chapel, whose ruins 
 gave melancholy evidence of the devastation committed 
 by the pirates. The next morning a priest who was 
 passing the ruined chapel on his road to Palermo under- 
 took at my brother-in-law's request, the delivery of two 
 letters from him ; one to the Spanish Consul, who also ful- 
 filled the functions of the French Consulate; and the 
 other to the Governor of Palermo, in both of which, 
 with a very slight and excusable departure from truth, he 
 represented himself as attached to the Spanish embassy. 
 
 The next day the priest returned with favorable answers, 
 and M. Geouffre, with his two sailors, whom he amply 
 recompensed, and the priest who served him by the road 
 both as interpreter and paymaster, arrived at Palermo, 
 where he was most graciously received by the Spanish 
 Consul, and procured through his means every facility for 
 his progress to Naples. From that place he embarked in 
 a small felucca, and landed at the foot of the mole, 
 certain of finding at the house of the French Ambassador, 
 Alquier, whom Lucien Bonaparte had succeeded at 
 Madrid, every accommodation he could desire. With 
 Alquier no secrecy was necessary on the subject of his 
 Egyptian mission, and they lamented together its ill suc- 
 cess, and the important loss the nation had sustained. 
 
 The French Ambassador presented my brother-in-law 
 at the Neapolitan Court, then in all its brilliancy, and 
 preparing for the double nuptial of the Prince of As- 
 turias with a Neapolitan princess, sister of the present 
 Queen of the French, and of the Infanta Donna Marianna 
 with the Prince Royal of Naples. The Princess of As- 
 turias I had the honor of being particularly acquainted
 
 442 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 with, and was much distinguished by her; her memory is 
 very dear to me. 
 
 After a short stay in the beautiful and harmonious 
 Parthenope, which still mourned the divine Cimarosa, my 
 brother-in-law returned to Spain, having derived no other 
 advantage from an expedition that endangered both his 
 liberty and life than that of having seen Naples and its 
 enchanting bay. 
 
 Parthenope has recalled to my mind a story that oc- 
 curred in that same Italy, and very near Naples; it re- 
 lates to Madame Adelaide and Madame Victoire, and 
 happened at this period. Mesdames de France inhabited 
 the Castle of Caserta, a royal country house belonging to 
 the Court of Naples. 
 
 Their Court was still tolerably numerous, and to divert 
 the tedium its younger members must otherwise have 
 contracted from their recluse mode of life, the Princesses 
 frequently had little balls, composed only of their own 
 suite. A single violin formed the orchestra, under the 
 direction of M. Chazote, governor of the young Comte de 
 Chastellux. It seems he was not very clever, and that 
 Collinet would not have been likely to engage him as his 
 second, for he inhumanly mangled the most common airs, 
 such as the ?nonaco, les deux cogs, and other new dances. 
 
 The dissonance was once so insupportable to the prac- 
 ticed ear of Madame Adelaide, that, starting from her 
 seat, she took the violin from M. Chazote's hands, and 
 her Royal Highness played through the whole country- 
 dance with a taste and precision which called forth the 
 gratitude and the amazement of the dancers, nearly all 
 of whom were ignorant that she could handle the instru- 
 ment. Madame Adelaide appeared as much amused with 
 fingering her bow as the dancers in following it, for no 
 sooner had she concluded the country-dance she had car- 
 ried off from poor M. Chazote, whom she told to <( Go 
 and dance, * than she tuned her instrument, and issued the 
 word of command, ft To your places." 
 
 Rut the Duchesse de Narbonne, who perhaps thought 
 the Princess was forgetting her dignity, majestically 
 crossed the room, and remonstrated with such firmness 
 that the excellent Princess surrendered her own amuse- 
 ment and that which she was conferring. A spectator 
 has assured me that nothing could be more picturesque
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 443 
 
 and graceful than Madame Adelaide, in her stiff Gothic 
 dress, playing so unusual an instrument; at a little dis 
 tance, Madame Victoire, who could never laugh, even in 
 the salons of Versailles, and was now cold, serious and 
 severely melancholy, appeared to look with a reproving 
 eye on her sister, while the young Louise de Narbonne 
 the ornament of the Court, as she would have been of 
 Versailles, and the two Comtesses de Chastellux all three 
 young, pretty, and dressed with the simplicity 'becoming 
 their age, formed a striking contrast with the starched 
 exiles of the old Court. 
 
 M. Goubaud, the young Roman painter of the house- 
 hold of the Princesses, made an exquisite sketch of this 
 little scene. 
 
 Youth loves smartness, and is coquettish in males as 
 well as females. This young M. Goubaud, who was in 
 high favor both with Mesdames de France and Madame 
 de Narbonne herself, who was never prodigal of her 
 favor, was then a pretty boy of eighteen or twenty. One 
 day he went out to attend a fair, or village fete. 
 ^ Goubaud, while eyeing the pretty girls, paid no atten- 
 tion to the most coquettish, and running after the most 
 timid, suddenly spied an immense silk handkerchief with 
 a broad border of lively and glaring colors. The ftte, 
 the peasant-girls, all disappeared before the flattering 
 idea that that very night, or on the morrow at farthest, 
 he shall outshine the whole household of Mesdames in 
 this large and many-colored cravat. He purchased it, 
 and returned to Caserta as enraptured with his bargain 
 as if he had bought the Pope's tiara, which, be it said 
 en passant, was not then at Rome. 
 
 The next day was Sunday, and it was the custom of 
 the house for the Princesses to pass to Mass through the 
 ranks of their assembled household, inclining their heads, 
 speaking to the women, and smiling at the men. Goubaud| 
 decked like a bridegroom, and proud as a peacock, had 
 placed himself opposite to an open window, where he 
 might appear in all the plenitude of his beauty. The 
 usher of the chambers, opening the folding doors, an- 
 nounced Madame Victoire and Madame Adelaide. 
 
 Madame Victoire, whose habitually calm countenance 
 seldom betrayed any feeling, on perceiving the young 
 Roman appeared perfectly astonished. She paused a
 
 444 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 moment, seeming about to speak; then, apparently unwill- 
 ing to compromise her dignity, she recovered her composure, 
 and passed on without noticing the confident and smiling 
 salute of the good youth. He now awaited Madame 
 Adelaide, who was far more beloved than her sister; but 
 she not only passed like Madame Victoire without speak- 
 ing to the young painter, but darted on him an indignant 
 glance which distressed him. The Duchesse de Nar- 
 bonne, who followed, fixed on Goubaud a piercing look 
 which seemed to say, * What ! have you such audacity ? B 
 The young artist mentally reviewed every act of his 
 that could possibly have given offense, and finally com- 
 forted himself with the reflection that the displeasure of 
 his patronesses was undeserved. 
 
 The return from Mass was equally solemn, and the 
 whole establishment, modeling their conduct after that 
 of the Princesses, seemed to shun Goubaud as if he had 
 just imported the yellow fever from Cadiz. 
 
 The young artist, who had a grateful and susceptible 
 heart, retired to his study and gave himself up to mel- 
 ancholy reflections; scarely had he entered, when a mes- 
 senger from Madame de Narbonne brought him a brief 
 and precise order to quit Caserta that very day. 
 
 His patience now deserted him, and anger for a mo- 
 ment superseded grief; but his eyes falling on the mag- 
 nificent view which unfolded before him all the magic 
 images of beauty, surrounding a dwelling in which, wel- 
 comed as a friend, as a beloved child, he had passed 
 the happiest days of his life, w I should be mad," thought 
 he, <( to retire without inquiring the cause of my dis- 
 grace * ; and he immediately requested a parting audience 
 of Madame de Narbonne, who granted it on the instant; 
 but, as he entered, panting for breath, "What!" cried 
 she in a fury, and without giving him time to speak — 
 "what! you have the boldness, the impudence, to pre- 
 sent yourself before me in your odious cravat ? }) 
 
 Goubaud was confounded. 
 
 <( My cravat, Madame la Duchbsse ! * 
 
 <( Yes, sir; your cravat. Is not exile a sufficient mis- 
 fortune ? Must Adelaide and Victoire of France, the 
 daughters of Louis XV., be persecuted in that exile, in- 
 sulted even with the sight of a tricolored flag ? w 
 
 <( A/i ! mon Dieu / * cried Goubaud, and the immense
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 445 
 
 corners of his cravat striking - his eyes, he snatched it 
 from his neck and stood dismayed, as if really criminal ; 
 the cravat was as perfect a tricolor as the flag which 
 now waves over the Chateau of the Tuileries. The poor 
 youth held in his hands the accusing witness, and be- 
 lieved it had been placed there by some mischievous 
 demon who had fascinated his eyes. 
 
 Born and bred in Italy, and in retirement, he had 
 never seen the tricolored flag, nor even thought of it 
 but as associated with the misfortunes of those kind and 
 benevolent Princesses for whom he would have laid down 
 his life. 
 
 He had little difficulty in explaining the innocence of 
 his intentions to the good-natured Duchess, who under- 
 took to plead for him with his benefactresses. She soon 
 returned from her compassionate mission with a free 
 pardon, giving him at the same time, from the royal 
 ladies, a packet containing a dozen superb white cravats, 
 and ordering for the altar of the chapel a painting of 
 the Assumption of the Virgin, which the grateful artist 
 commenced without the loss of an hour, and in a few 
 days his study was again visited by the Princesses, (< to 
 cement the pardon, }) as Mademoiselle Adelaide expressed 
 herself. 
 
 Goubaud was afterwards miniature painter to the Em- 
 peror Napoleon, and in 181 3 was appointed painter to 
 the King of Rome and the children of France; and he 
 has recently finished a splendid picture of the captive 
 Napoleon.
 
 446 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 CHAPTER LXII. 
 
 Malmaison — Its Park — Bonaparte's Project — Mademoiselle Julien — 
 The Consul's Tent, Love of Air, and the Fire in Summer — Apart- 
 ment of Mademoiselle Hortense — Manner of Life at Malmaison 
 — Female Breakfasts — Facility of Madame Bonaparte in Granting 
 Her Protection — Madame Savary and Madame Lannes — Madame 
 d'Houdetot and M. de Cere — Unexpected Favor, Mission, Delay, 
 and Disgrace — The Memorial and the Bill. 
 
 The park of Malmaison was enchanting, notwithstand- 
 ing - its proximity to the barren mountain on one 
 side. The river, though running far below, imparted 
 strength and luxuriance to its vegetation ; and nothing 
 could be greener, more fresh, or umbrageous, than the 
 field from which it was separated only by a ha-ha, and 
 that part of the park itself which is bounded by the road. 
 The extent of the park did not exceed a hundred acres; 
 and Bonaparte, on his return from Egypt, endeavored to 
 persuade Mademoiselle Julien, a rich old maid of the vil- 
 lage of Ruelle, as an act of good neighborship, to sell 
 him, at her own price, an adjoining garden, or small 
 park, by which addition Malmaison would have been placed 
 on so respectable a footing that he need no longer have 
 blushed to compare it with the magnificent estate of his 
 brother Joseph. 
 
 The First Consul had a small private garden, separated 
 only by a bridge from his private cabinet. It was here 
 that he took the air, when labor rendered moderate ex- 
 ercise necessary to him ; for at that time, and for two 
 years succeeding, he allowed himself no repose but what 
 Nature imperatively required. The bridge was covered 
 in and arranged like a small tent; here his table was 
 carried, and he would employ himself with State papers, 
 saying that he felt his ideas become more elevated and 
 expansive in the air than when seated beside a stove and 
 shut out from communication with the sky. 
 
 Yet Bonaparte could not endure the smallest degree of 
 cold; had fires lighted in July, and wondered that others 
 did not suffer like himself from the first breath of a north 
 wind.
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 447 
 
 Our life at Malmaison resembled that usually led when 
 much company is assembled together at a chdteau in the 
 country. Our apartments consisted of a chamber, a bou- 
 doir, and a room for the chambermaid, all very simply 
 furnished. That occupied by Mademoiselle Hortense dif- 
 fered from the others only by a folding- door; and this 
 apartment was not assigned her till after her marriage. 
 All opened on a long and narrow paved corridor, looking 
 into the court. 
 
 We chose our own hour of rising, and until breakfast 
 our time was at our own disposal. At eleven the ladies 
 all met for breakfast in a small low salon of the right 
 wing, opening to the court; but, as in Paris, gentlemen 
 were never admitted to the party, unless, occasionally, 
 Joseph, Louis, or one of the family. Breakfast was fol- 
 lowed by conversation, or the reading of the journals, 
 and someone always arrived from Paris to have an au- 
 dience, for already Madame Bonaparte gave audiences, 
 contrary to the express orders of the First Consul, and 
 patronized petitions, though his anger at her interference 
 had already caused her abundance of tears; but when a 
 beautiful pearl necklace or bracelet of rubies was offered, 
 through the hands of Bourrienne, or of any other friend, 
 the elegance of a present so wholly unconnected with the 
 matters in hand suppressed all curious speculations into 
 the nature of the mine which produced it. 
 
 The First Consul was never visible till dinner time. 
 At five or six in the morning he descended to his cabi- 
 net, and was there occupied with Bourrienne, or with the 
 Ministers, Generals, and Councilors of State, till the 
 dinner hour of six, when the party was generally joined 
 by some invited guests. All the suite of the First Con- 
 sul were at this time enlarging his household by mar- 
 riage; Colonel Savary had just married a relation of 
 Madame Bonaparte (an unhoped-for happiness to a man 
 whose life knew no other impulse than the desire of ad- 
 vancement) ; his wife was pretty, but had bad teeth. 
 
 Madame Lannes was really handsome, and in high fa- 
 vor at Malmaison, of which she was every way worthy; 
 gentle, unconscious of envy, and never sacrificing to a 
 jest the peace or reputation of another. In person she 
 might have formed a model for the most beautiful Ma- 
 donnas of Raphael orCoreggio; such was the symmetry
 
 448 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 of her features, the calmness of her countenance, the se- 
 renity of her smile. I first saw her at a ball, where she 
 scarcely danced, although her figure was light and ele- 
 gant. In the dignified station to which fate exalted her 
 after the death of her husband, the Duchess de Monte- 
 bello's conduct was perfectly irreproachable; and she was 
 ever ready to oblige or serve others as far as was con- 
 sistent with the severity of the Emperor, who would inevi- 
 tably have discouraged and opposed any affair recommended 
 by a woman, and with the apathy of the Empress, who, on 
 quitting her early home, had not, as assuredly the Archduke 
 Charles would have advised her, created for herself a new 
 one. 
 
 But to return to Josephine and her morning audiences. 
 This was the only time that the surveillance of the First 
 Consul left her at liberty, and he then committed the 
 duty to Bourrienne, who tells us <( he would have deemed 
 it disgraceful to act as a spy on the wife of his friend, B 
 and therefore contented himself with concealing from the 
 First Consul such acquisitions of jewelry, etc., as made 
 no claim on the public finances. I must, however, do 
 Madame Bonaparte the justice to say that she saw noth- 
 ing of all these intrigues, but confined herself to writing 
 a few lines to Berthier, who had much more considera- 
 tion for her than any of the other Ministers; so little in- 
 terest, indeed, had she with them, that importunity alone 
 could not give any weight to her requests; the influence 
 of Mademoiselle Hortense, had she exerted it, would have 
 been far more effective. 
 
 But if Madame Bonaparte's credit with the authorities 
 was at a low ebb, her reputation for it was also injured 
 by her own proceedings; for example, among her most 
 attached friends was Madame Houdetot, and her inter- 
 position was for once successful in recommending that 
 lady's brother, M. de Cere, to the First Consul's favor, 
 in which sense, good manners, and a pleasing address 
 rapidly advanced him. He was becoming a familiar on 
 the establishment when he was sent on a mission, and a 
 certain day fixed for his return, after which he was to 
 receive the appointment of aid-de-camp. But, alas! 
 youth is heedless, and M. de CeYe" exceeded his appoint- 
 ment by a whole fortnight. 
 
 Napoleon, doubly incensed by the neglect of his orders
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 449 
 
 and by his own error of judgment, a circumstance not 
 very common, would listen to no solicitations for par- 
 don, and peremptorily prohibited the young- man's reap- 
 pearance before him; while Madame Bonaparte observed 
 that (< a volcanic head, leading- into follies for want of re- 
 flection, should not be associated with the indolence of 
 a Creole. " 
 
 After many months had elapsed, determined on a new 
 effort to recover his lost ground, he solicited, through 
 the medium of his sister and of Savary, who was also 
 his friend, an audience of Madame Bonaparte, and to 
 his great joy was desired to repair on the morrow to 
 Malmaison, furnished with a very clear and explicit 
 memorial, which Josephine promised to forward. Arriv- 
 ing at the chateau, he found Madame, as usual, gracious 
 and enchanting; she told him that the First Consul, already 
 predisposed by her, would easily overlook an irregularity 
 which M. de Cere promised to obliterate by future good 
 conduct, and concluded by receiving his memorial, and 
 recommending him to come himself in a few days for 
 the answer. 
 
 The poor young man, intoxicated with the success of 
 his overtures, demanded by anticipation the congratula- 
 tions of his friends; but he discovered, before retiring 
 to rest, that the memorial was still in his pocket, and 
 he had left as its substitute in the hands of his patroness 
 a long bill from his tailor. In despair at an incident 
 which threatened annihilation to all his new-raised hopes, 
 he passed a sleepless night, and early in the morning 
 was again on the road to Malmaison, determined, as his 
 last chance, to explain the whole affair to Madame 
 Bonaparte. His consternation may be imagined when, 
 advancing with outstretched hand to meet him, she an- 
 ticipated his explanation with : 
 
 (< How happy I am ! I have delivered your memorial 
 to the First Consul, and we read it together; it was ad- 
 mirably drawn up, w added she, with an approving smile, 
 (< and made a great impression upon him. He told me 
 Berthier should report it, and within a fortnight all will 
 be settled. I assure you, mon cher, this success, for I 
 consider the affair as concluded, made me the whole of 
 yesterday the happiest woman in the world. B 
 
 If the actual memorial had not been at that moment in 
 29
 
 450 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUXOT 
 
 his pocket he would have persuaded himself it was really 
 in the hands of the First Consul, and that his unhappy- 
 carelessness was all a dream ! 
 
 From this instance it may be inferred that Madame 
 Bonaparte, though perfectly good natured, and with the 
 utmost disposition to oblige, could not be entirely de- 
 pended upon in the management of any affair. She 
 desired to confer favors, but this desire yielded to 
 the smallest apprehension of the First Consul's dis- 
 pleasure. 
 
 Bonaparte was very partial to Malmaison, and insisted 
 on all the visitors being entirely at their ease ; it was al- 
 ways he who opposed the restraints of etiquette, which 
 already Madame Bonaparte liked, and would fain have 
 introduced, although as burdensome to herself as to 
 others. 
 
 CHAPTER LXIII. 
 
 The Wednesdays at Malmaison — The Stage Company at Malmaison — 
 Bonaparte Treated Like a Boy — Dinners in the Park — Party at 
 Barriers, and the First Consul without His Coat — Fright of Madame 
 Bonaparte — Rapp, Eugene, and the Veteran Soldier Recognized by 
 the First Consul — Voluntary Engagement — Curious and Touching 
 Scene — Panic Terror at Malmaison — The Inhabitants in Dis- 
 habille. 
 
 Every Wednesday there was a grand dinner at Mal- 
 maison. The Second Consul was always of the 
 party, with the Ministers, Counselors of State, some 
 particularly esteemed Generals, and a few ladies of un- 
 spotted reputation ; for Napoleon was then rigorous in the 
 choice of Madame Bonaparte's society. We acted plays 
 in the evening, and the part of the abigails fell to my lot. 
 Madame Savary was also of our company; Junot was our 
 best actor, and Bourrienne, Eugene Beauharnais and 
 Lauriston had talent. It was no trifle to play before, not 
 only an audience of three hundred persons, but the First 
 Consul in particular; for my part I should have preferred 
 doubling the number, could he have been by that means 
 excluded. 
 
 It was singular enough that I, certainly the most free
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 451 
 
 with him of the whole establishment, and the most ready 
 to answer his pleasantries — I, in short, who already gave 
 indications of the woman who, according to his own con- 
 fession of St. Helena, treated him as a boy (en petit 
 gar con), the day that he addressed to my ears words to 
 which it did not become me to listen — I could not 
 endure his criticisms, just or unjust, on my performance, 
 however convinced that he was mistaken, and that I best 
 understood my own business with the assistance of 
 Dugazon, my prompter. 
 
 The dinner hour, as I have before said, was six; and 
 when the weather was fine the First Consul ordered the 
 table to be laid in the park on the left of the lawn; 
 the dinner was soon dispatched, and he found it weari- 
 somely protracted if we sat more than half an hour. 
 
 When he was in good humor, the weather fine, and he 
 had a few minutes' leisure from the labor which even at 
 that time was killing him, he would play at barriers with 
 us. He cheated us, as at r ever sis* would throw us 
 down, or come upon us without crying barrel but these 
 tricks were only calculated to raise a laugh. His coat 
 was on such occasions laid aside, and he ran like a hare, 
 or rather like the gazelle, which he would feed with a 
 boxful of tobacco, and tell her to run after us, and the 
 tormenting animal tore our clothes, and sometimes 
 our legs. 
 
 One fine day after dinner he exclaimed, (< Let us play 
 at barriers ! w Off went his coat, and the next moment 
 the conqueror of the world was racing like a schoolboy. 
 The park at Malmaison was not then as complete as it 
 now is, although the most shameful vandalism has spared 
 no effort to extinguish the remembrances attached even 
 to a few plants. It was separated only by a ha-ha from 
 an open field, afterward purchased for a plantation, and 
 the curious could observe from this field all that passed 
 in the park. 
 
 Madame Bonaparte had been leaning with Madame 
 Lavalette on the iron railing which overlooked the ha-ha, 
 when, advancing a few steps, they were alarmed by the 
 sight of two men, of rough manners, shabby dress, and 
 very suspicious appearance, who were eyeing the First 
 
 * A game of cards still in vogue with the dowagers of the Faubourg 
 Saint Germain.
 
 45- MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 Consul and whispering to one another. I had ceased 
 playing, and at this moment approached Madame Bona- 
 parte, who took my arm, and sent Lavalette to seek her 
 husband or Eugene, but charged her to be careful that 
 the First Consul did not discover her errand, for he de- 
 tested any precautions. 
 
 She met Rapp, who required no stimulating whenever 
 the shadow of danger threatened his General ; in a few 
 seconds he was beside the men, and, accosting them 
 somewhat roughly, demanded their reason for standing 
 there frightening ladies, and threatened them with 
 arrest. They stoutly maintained their right to look at 
 their General, who, they were certain, would not drive 
 them away, and appealed to Eugene, who, coming up at 
 that moment to see what was the matter, recognized one 
 of the intruders for an old chasseur of his regiment. 
 The veteran explained in humorous and military phrase 
 that the loss of his arm having disabled him for further 
 service, his brother wished to be accepted as his sub- 
 stitute; and to arrange this affair, they were come in 
 search of their commander, when the sight of the First 
 Consul at full play had arrested their steps; and, having 
 finished this explanation, they turned away. 
 
 Bonaparte, with his eyes which saw without looking, 
 and his ears which heard without listening, had from the 
 first word been in possession of a key to the whole scene : 
 he remembered the old quartermaster of his chasseurs, 
 who at Montebello or Marengo had lost an arm while 
 defending the life of a wounded officer. The First Con- 
 sul had himself caused him to be carried off the field, 
 and as the veteran had since been presented to him on 
 parade, he recalled his features. (( Oh ! oh ! w said he, 
 * there are the Invalides in retreat. Good day, my boy. 
 Well, you are come to see me, then? Come! face about! 
 march once more at the command of your general. Con- 
 duct him, Eugene. w 
 
 And passing his arm around Josephine's waist, he led 
 her to the entrance of the didtcau, where we met the 
 two brothers, Eugene, and Rapp. The old chasseur pre- 
 sented his brother to the First Consul, reminding him at 
 the same time that no legal obligations demanded his 
 services. "It is a voluntary engagement, General," said 
 he, "and you are his Recruiting-Captain."
 
 DUCHESS OF ABRANTES 453 
 
 "Since I am the Recruiting-Captain, said the First 
 Consul, (< the recruit must drink my health and that of 
 the Republic. Eugene, take charge of your soldier, my 
 boy; you will pledge him in my name." 
 
 The old chasseur watched the departing steps of his 
 General, and, when he disappeared from his sight, burst 
 into tears. 
 
 (< Come, come, my old comrade, a little more self- 
 command, w said Eugene; (( why, the deuce, you are like a 
 woman ! ° 
 
 "Ah! talking of women, a pretty mess I have made," 
 said the maimed veteran ; (< why, I have spoken to the 
 Generate Consule as if I were speaking to Nanny and 
 Peggy. And yet she seems all goodness, yonder brave 
 Citoyenne. B 
 
 Whenever the First Consul played at barriers we all 
 walked, and both cards and chess were superseded. This 
 evening, therefore, he retired to his cabinet, and we saw 
 no more of him. Madame Bonaparte had been so fright- 
 ened by the sight of the men that nothing could rally 
 her spirits. Eugene, Bessieres, and Junot were all re- 
 turned to Paris, and, no one remaining to cheer her, 
 we spent the evening in enumerating and recounting all 
 the vain attempts made within the last year against the 
 life of the First Consul. 
 
 His wife loved him; the influence of gratitude on a 
 good heart had bound her to him. She cried, and em- 
 bracing me, said, <( The figure of this man has made 
 such a terrible impression on me, that I am certain I 
 shall not sleep to-night; and Bonaparte, if he hears me 
 complain, he is angry. He never has anything to fear, 
 according to his own account." 
 
 We all retired to our chambers with the nervousness 
 that pervades a party of children who have been listen- 
 ing to ghost stories, and midnight had not struck before 
 the whole chateau, buried in sleep, might have re- 
 sembled that of Beauty in the . Sleeping Wood, if the 
 moonbeams had not been occasionally seen to glimmer 
 on the arms of those faithful guards, those chasseurs a 
 cheval, who silently paraded the park, watching over the 
 safety of him who was the safety of all. 
 
 Suddenly a report of firearms was heard from the ditch 
 of the chateau, and instantly, before we could recover
 
 454 MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT 
 
 our breath, suspended by fear, everyone was on foot. 
 The First Consul was already in the corridor in his 
 dressing gown, holding a taper, and crying with his 
 powerful and sonorous voice, <( Do not be frightened; 
 there is nothing the matter. w 
 
 He was as calm as if his sleep had not been disturbed: 
 this I can answer for, because my glance of inquiry was 
 fixed upon his countenance; he was calm without indif- 
 ference, but he was evidently a thousand cubits above the 
 apprehension of danger. His destiny was not fulfilled, 
 and he knew it! 
 
 The alarm arose from the carbine of one of the chas- 
 seurs having gone off in consequence of his horse stum- 
 bling on a molehill. 
 
 When the First Consul heard the report of his aid-de- 
 camp he laughed, and called through a little door at the 
 foot of the grand staircase: 
 
 (< Josephine, dry your eyes: a mole has done all the 
 mischief; no great wonder, for it is an ugly animal. As 
 for the chasseur, two days' arrest, to teach him and his 
 horse not to pass again over my lawn. As 1 suppose he 
 has had a fine fright himself, his punishment shall not 
 last longer. Good night, ladies; go to bed again, and 
 sleep well." In passing by my door he added: (< Felice 
 notte, Signora Loulou, dolci riposo.^ <( Felicissimo riposo, 
 Signor Genera le. 8
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
 
 Los Angeles 
 
 I his hook is DL'E on the last date stamped below. 
 
 Form L9-Series 4939
 
 UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 
 
 illl ill mini h II ill nun mi 
 
 AA 001 092 057 7 
 
 t 
 
 PLEASI DO NOT REMOVE 
 THIS BOOK CARD 
 
 & 
 
 ^UIBRARYQ^ 
 
 & 
 
 & 
 
 
 University Research Library 
 
 
 en 
 
 x 
 
 W 
 
 x 
 
 m 
 
 m 
 
 •3: 
 
 -