THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES GIFT ■■flJ riMil !?#jp MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT, DUCHESSE DABRAXTES. General Buonaparte. Photo-Etching. — After Paintin \ppi.ini. NAl'i 'I E( IN, VOLI Ml: XI. MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT (DUCHESSE D'ABRANTES) I\ SIX VOLUMES Vol. I. PARIS \m. BOSTON THE NAPOI E< >N IETY 1895 EDITION DE GRAND LUXE. Limited to Five Hit ml red Copies. No 474... TYPOGRAPHY, ELECTRO TYPING, AND PRINTING BY JOHN WILSON AND SON, UNIVERSITY PRESS, CAMBRIDGE, U.S.A. DC V ! LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. VOL. I. NaPOI BON . . . . Mahamk J knot . . Pa r LINE BONAPARTE Jerome Bonaparte Lucien Bonaparte . Cavi un< ourt . . Sir Sydney Smith . Brune Page Frontispiece 42 84 148 182 206 240 286 ' PREFATORY REMARKS BY THE DUCHESSE D'ABRANTES. As the Commentaries of Caesar, the military Memoirs of Marshal Villars, the Reveries of Marshal Saxe, etc., relate solely to military affairs — sieges, battles, etc. — so, I think, should contemporary memoirs render a faith- ful account of those incidents which are passing imme- diately 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 colouring, and that colouring 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 govern- ments, 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 ; ecially have their place ; to speak of them is to portray 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 vi PREFATORY REMARKS. fresh and lively colours 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 indi- viduals 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 when she sat in Council for the registering the edicts of toleration ; and when Mademoiselle describes the form of her own shoes on the day when, according to the expression of M. de Luxembourg, she established the fortune of a cadet of good family, I imagine myself in the Parliament of 1649 with the Queen, M. de Beau- fort, M. the Coadjutor, and all the great men of the Fronde, or I fancy myself in the orangery of Versailles with Mademoiselle, 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 coroeille and trousseau. We should rejoice in these days to find in Philip de Comines a description of a corbeille of the time of Louis XL or Philip the Good ; happily, he gives us better things. THE AUTHOR'S INTRODUCTION TO THE ORIGINAL EDITION. Evf.ryp.ody 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 respect- ing 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 observed 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 wonder 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 conld not fail to influence the bent of my mind. This influence, I imagine, must have been felt by all women who have been my contemporaries. V1U AUTHOR'S INTRODUCTION. 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 itself than I was required to employ it in guarding all my 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 vigorously 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 every 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 perhaps 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- wards became the master of the world lived long on AUTHOR'S INTRODUCTION. ix a footing of intimacy with us. He used to frequent my father's house when I was yet a child, and lie scarcely a young man. I may almost say that I have witnessed i-v.'ry 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 informed 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 Lietitia 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 da} 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. 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 ab- sence or distance. The conduct of my parents towards Bonaparte, the father, when he came to Montpellier w r ith his son and his brother-in-law, to die far from his coun- try and all that was dear to him, should never be forgot- ten by either of the two families. It should be remem- bered by the one with gratitude, and by the other with that feeling of satisfaction which the performance of a ! action creates. The otheT members of the Bonaparte family were also favourites of my mother. Lucien found in her more than a common friend. When he formed that strange union AUTHOR'S INTRODUCTION. with Mademoiselle Boyer my mother received his wife as her own daughter. Of our intimacy with Madame Joseph Bonaparte and Madame Leclerc the details into which I shall enter 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 recollec- tions have revived ! how many dormant griefs have awak- ened ! In spite of the general fidelity of my memory, I occasionally 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 first thought of doing so, but I found this imprac- ticable. In taking up the pen my object was to make a complete, not a summary, refutation of the untruths that AUTIIOirS INTRODUCTION'. XI 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 tin- 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 ridicul With regard to what concerns me and my family in the Memorial de Sainte Hilene, 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 n«>hle descent, is the extreme of baseness. Such being my opinion, it will readily be conceived that I am not in- clined to pass over in silence that chapter in the Manorial ' Wilene which treats of the family of my mother. My grandfather and my uncles, far from setting up false claim- t<> family greatness, wished, on the contrary, to extinguish a noble name, which, when stripped of the Bplendonr with which it ought to be surrounded, becomes to its p ors a source of annoyance and humiliation. Snch was the intention of my grandfather, the last privi- I I chief of the Greek colony in Italy, a shadow of aty and a toy with which he wished to have no m ire concern. II had but one daughter, my mother, and he made her xii AUTHOR'S INTRODUCTION. 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 a farmer, as the Memorial ale Sainte Helene asserts. As to obtain- ing an acknowledgment of the dignity of the Comnena family, he entertained no such idea. My grandfather 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 fulfil that sacred duty, and to furnish the materials which can permit him to be fairly judged. Laure Junot. EDITORIAL NOTE. This new edition of a work which has been scarce for some years lias been carefully revised, and is now presented to the public in a form which, it is hoped, will meet with favour. The interest of the recollections of Madame Junot is undoubted Her patriotic feelings may sometimes betray her into exaggeration and even occasional inaccuracy, and her satirical vein may lead her at times into misrepresent- ation, but in the main her Memoirs are a valuable con- tribution to the history of the inner life of the Court of Napoleon ; while the unaffected naturalness of her descriptions, and her very minute details, render her narrative as charming and as interesting as the liveliest romance. The Napoleonic period will ever remain one of trans- cendent interest. The upheaval of society caused by the French Revolution ; the rise of Napoleon, his marvellous successes, the mariner in which all Europe became im- plicated in the great Btruggle he made for empire over it, the N at Moscow and in Spain, and the fall at Waterloo, arc so many scenes in a drama which interested and still i ' - the whole world. Loroos, Beptembec 1, 1893. CONTENTS OF VOLUME I. Preface v Introduction vii Sote xiii CHAPTER I. (Pages 1-10.) Place and Date of my Birth. Calomeros and Bonaparte. My Father's Departure for America. Intimacy between my Mother and Madame Latitia. Bonaparte's Boyhood. The Basket of Grapes and the Flogging. Saveria and the Bonaparte Family. My Father's Return. My Birth and my Mother's Illness. CHAPTER H. (Pages 11-17.) 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 Lainballe. Bonaparte's First Arrival in Paris. His Intention of present- ing a Memorial to the Minister of War. His Character when a Young Man. CHAPTER III. (Pages 18-25.) Death of Bonaparte's Father In my Mother's House. Joseph Bona- parte and If. Fetch Removal of my Family to Paris. M. do Saint •. M. Siguier, and M. Dnridal de Montferrier. Madame de Lamar- Here. A Wedding-feaaJ ai Robeapierre's. The^in'cn at tin- ( onciergerie and Madame Richard. MM. d'Ai^refeuille and CainhactTi-s. Xvi CONTENTS. CHAPTER IV. (Pages 26-33.) 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. CHAPTER V. (Pages 34-40.) The Parliament of 1787. Disturbances at Rennes. M. de Nouain- ville. 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. CHAPTER VI. (Pages 41-51.) 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 Interview with the Queen. CHAPTER VII. (Pages 52-57.) 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. CHAPTER VIII. (Pages 58-63.) Murder of Madame de Lamballe. Our Removal to Toulouse. My Father summoned before the Section. My Mother's Letter to Salicetti. CONTENTS. xvii 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. CHAPTER IX. (Pages 64-71.) 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. Eras- ure of his Name from the List of Generals. CHAPTER X. (Pages 72-79.) If. Brunetiere. Curious Mode of Correspondence. My Mother's Visit 10 Paris. The Hotel de la Tranquillity. Bonaparte's Visit to us. Paris after the 9th Thermidor. Bonaparte and the Muscadins. Scarcity of Bread. The Sections declaiming against the Convention. Politics banished from Conversation. Salicetti's Boots. CHAPTER XL (Pages 80-88.) 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. CHAPTER XII. (Pages 89-101.) The 20th May. Death of I-Yrraud. Project of bombarding the Fau- bourg Saint Antoine. Balicetti oo the List of the Proscribed. He lies f'>r Refnge to my Mother's Lodgings. His Concealment. Bona partes VMt fumy Mother. Remarkable Conversation, vi. r. i. — i xviii CONTENTS. CHAPTER XIII. (Pages 102-106.) The Trial of Romme, Soubraui, and their Colleagues. Project for saving Salicetti. Sentence and Death of the Prisoners. Horrible Scene. CHAPTER XIV. (Pages 107-114.) Salicetti's Proxy. We procure our Passports. Our Departure for Bordeaux. The First Post. Generous Letter from Bonaparte. Sali- cetti's Ingratitude. Our Arrival at Bordeaux. Difficulty of obtaining a Vessel for Salicetti. We proceed to Cette. Salicetti sails for Genoa. Our Arrival at Montpellier. CHAPTER XV. (Pages 115-121.) 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. CHAPTER XVI. (Pages 122-135.) The Fair of Beaucaire. Atrocities committed in the South. Muti- lated 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 Conversation. Death of my Father. CHAPTER XVH. (Pages 136-144.) My Mother's House in the Chaussee d'Antin. Great Change in the Situation of Bonaparte. Ammunition Bread. Dreadful Dearth. Chari- ties bestowed by Bonaparte. The Dead Child, and the Slater's Widow. Comparison between Former Fashions and those of the Republic. CONTENTS. xix CHAPTER XVIII. (Pages 145-154.) My Mother*! Mourning. Decline of her Health. A Box at the Feydeao 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 Families. My Mother Mioses to marry Bonaparte. Stephanopoli, a Relative of my Mother's. Sharp Altercation between my Mother and Bonaparte. Definitive Rupture. Marriage of Bonaparte, lie is appointed to the Command of the Army of Italy. CHAPTER XIX. (Pages 155-169.) Recollections of Toulouse. M. de Regnier, Commandant. Intro- duction of M. de Geouffre to my Mother. Mutual Passion. Marriage of M. uffre and my Sister Cecile. Melancholy Presentiments of my Bister. Her Death. Visit of Condolence paid by Bonaparte t<> my Mother. Destruction of our Fortune. Comte de Perigord, Uncle of M. de Talleyrand. Admirable Conduct of a Valet-de-Chambre daring the Reign of Terror. Death of Comte de Perigord. My Broth'-r joins the Army of Italy. Decline of my Mother's Health. Journey to the Waters of Cauterets. The Pyrenees. CHAPTER XX. (Pages 170-176.) Our Retort] to Paris. The Emigrants. Sketches of Parisian Society. Public Balls and Well-known Characters. Ball at the Thelusson Madame de D. M. d'Haotefort Madame Bonaparte, ime Tallien. Madame Ilamelin. CHAPTER XXI. (Pages 177-189.) The Army of Italy. Triomphs of Bonaparte. My Brother at Msssa* Carrara. Laden-Brutus and Saint Maximin-Marathon. Locierj Bona- ; I i, er Excursion to Versailles. Leoben and XX CONTENTS. 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. CHAPTER XXII. (Pages 190-193.) Illness of my Mother. Domestic Details. M. de Baudeloque and M. Sabatier. A Treble Fright. CHAPTER XXIII. (Pages 194-202.) Portrait of Marshal Augereau. Consequences of the 18th Fructidor and Deportations. Cruelty of the Directory. Bonaparte the Author of the 18th Fructidor. Joseph Bonaparte in the Five Hundred. Madame Joseph. Mademoiselle Clary, Queen of Sweden. Bernadotte'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. Bonaparte 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. CHAPTER XXIV. (Pages 203-210.) 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 Caulaincourt. The Two Brothers, Armand and Auguste. Madame de Thelusson and Madame de Mornay. Fashions. Bonaparte at Paris. Long and Inter- esting Conversation between Bonaparte and my Brother. Projected Expedition. Implacable Hatred against England. CHAPTER XXV. (Pages 211-228.) Family of Junot. His Education. His Character. The Battalion of the Cote d'Or. Junot a Grenadier. Promoted to Sergeant. The Siege CONTEXTS. xxi of Toulon. First Mooting of Junot and Bonaparte. Extraordinary Scene. Junot is Bonaparte's First Aide-de-Camp. Curious Corres- pondence between Junot and bis Father. Remarkable Dream. Mniron and Marmont. Death of Biuiron, Wounds of Junot. Inexplicable Errors in the Memorial of St. Helena. Politeness of Junot. Adventures of Ma lam. ■ dfl Brionne at Dijon. She presents Junot with her 1' -trait. Baron de Stever. CHAPTER XXVI. (Pages 229-240.) Departure of Junot for Egypt A General at Twenty-seven. Mutual Relations of the Generals of the Army of Egypt. Parties. Quarrel between Lannsse and Juuot. Duel by Torchlight on the Bank of the Nile. Remarkable Observations of Napoleon. His Horror of Duels, r 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. Indignities 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. CHAPTER XXVII. (Pages 241-248.) The Returned Emigrants. Portraits from Nature. MM. de Bouille' and Madame de Contades. Drawing-room Scenes. My Mother's Bal. The Rival Beauties. Madame Leclerc's Ears. My Mother's Conversa- tion with I'aulette. MM. de Perigord. Despreaux's Assemblies. CHAPTER XXVIII. (Pages 219-250.) The 18th of Frtiftidor. Boche. Probable Manner of his Death, mo do Ri <• and Madame Tallies. Flags presented to •orv bv Junot. Madame- Bonaparte. Junot escorts her to Italy. Mademoiselle LooJ xxii CONTENTS. CHAPTER XXIX. (Pages 257-262.) Moreau takes the Command of the Army of Italy. Championnet. The Assassination of Rastadt. Destruction of the Eegimeut of Scheklers. General Joubert. The Two Suchets. Anecdote of Bonaparte and the Ordonnateur Chauvet. The Two Sleeping Nymphs. Bonaparte at Vingt-et-Un. CHAPTER XXX. (Pages 263-268.) Description of Madame Lsetitia. 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 Bonaparte Family towards Josephine. CHAPTER XXXI. (Pages 269-280.) The 8th of November. My Brother-in-law visits Bonaparte. My Mother and I visit Madame Lsetitia Bonaparte. The Bonaparte Family during the 8th. Their Danger. Moreau appointed Gaoler of the Directors. Moreau's Character drawn by Bonaparte. M. Brunetiere and Goliier. Moreau's Harshness towards Gohier. Moulins. Fouche's Measures. Singular Ignorance of the Bonaparte Family with regard to the Events of the 8th of November. Madame Lsetitia relates Napoleon's Birth. A Curious Conversation respecting Bonaparte between M. Brunetiere and Gohier. The Bunch of Keys and Moreau's Sword. CHAPTER XXXII. (Pages 281-291.) Revolution of the 8th November. Bonaparte falsely accused of Fear. Sagacity of General Bonaparte. Colonel Dumoulin and General Brune. Lucien in Danger, and his Deliverance. Hopes created by the Chief of the Consular Government. Lucien Minister of the Interior. Bona- CONTENTS. xxiii parte's Friendship for Madame Lncien. Residences of the Members of the Bonaparte Family. Visit to Lncien at Le Plessis Chamant. The d'Offreville. Assassination of the Family of Du Petitval atVitry. Beene at Malmaison, and Conversation with the First Consul. CHAPTER XXXIII. (Pages 292-400.) The Winter of 1800. The Restoration of Order and General Security. Masscna and the Siege of Geuoa. Passage of Mont Saint Bernard. Marmunt's Artillery. Moreau's Triumphs on the Rhine. The Campaign of Marengo. Inconceivable Effect produced at Paris by the News of the Victory. Bonfires. Universal Joy. News from the Army. Partic- ulars of the Battle of Marengo. The Death of Desaix. Kellcrman's Admirable Charge. Folly of General Melas. Habits of Napoleon in convening with Strangers. l)e Bubua. Services of the Kellermans, Father and Son. Landing of Juuot at Marseilles. Grief of the Aides- de-camp of Desaix. MEMOIRS OF MADAME JUNOT, DUCHESSE D'ABRANTES. CHAPTER I. 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 othcial 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 mountains of Corsica. When Constantine Comnenus landed in Corsica in 1676 at the head of the Greek colony, he bad with him several sons, one of whom was named Calomeros. This son he sent to Florence, on a mission to the Grand-Duke of i any. Constantine dying before the return of his son, the Grand-Duke prevailed on the young Greek to re- nounce I loraica and lix 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 family of Buonaparte; for the name Calomeros, literally Italianised, TOL. I. — 1 2 MEMOIRS OF THE DUCHESSE D'ABRANTES. signified buona parte or bella parte. 1 The only question is, whether the Calomeros who left Corsica, and the Calo- meros who came there, have a direct filiation. 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, accord- ing as they allude to one individual or several collec- tively. 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 Lsetitia Eamolini, 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 Lsetitia 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 Lsetitia Eamolini. Lsetitia was indeed a handsome woman. Those who knew her in advanced life thought her countenance some- 1 Napoleon omitted the u in Buonaparte while General-in-Chief in May, 1796. MY FATHER. 3 what harsh ; but that expression, instead of being caused by anv 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 circumstances in which she was placed, in bad as well as good fortune. Her son rendered her justice, though somewhat tardily. He himself helped to keep up an erroneous opinion re- specting her ; and though he corrected it, yet the impres- sion was given and received. Previously to entering into negotiation with the Re- public of Genoa, France supplied troops for the purpose of reducing the Corsicans to obedience. Among the French who were connected with the army there was a young man of twenty, possessing an agreeable person. He fenced like the celebrated Saint George, was a delight- ful performer on the violin, and though distinguished by the elegant manners of a man of rank, he was neverthe- less only a commoner. He had said, " I will risk my fortune, and will advance myself in the world;" 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 honourable 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 id of my mother. This gentleman was M. de Pennon, mv father. My parents left Corsica and came to France, where my father*! affairs demanded his presence. Some years after !. • 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 grand- mother until my father's return. This was before my birth. It was oil my mother's return to Corsica that she 4 MEMOIRS OF THE DUCHESSE D'ABRANTES. 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 after 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 Lsetitia." This was the name he always gave his mother when he was speaking of her to persons with whom he was intimate. " How is Signora Lsetitia ? " 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." 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 attri- buted 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 this. As I know not whether she may yet be living, I will say nothing to com- promise her with persons to whom her preference might BOXArARTE'S BOYHOOD. 5 be offensive. All I shall say is, that she adored the Emperoi and Lucien. She one day described to me several little scenes con- ■1 with the huvhood of Napoleon, who remained in Corsica until he was nine years of age ; and she confirmed 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 practice of beating chil- dren is common in all classes of society. 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 b 'Id it me to give me an example of moderation. He was one day accused by one of his sisters of having eaten a basketful of grapes, figs, and citrons, which had come from the garden of his uncle the Canon. None but those who were acquainted with the Bonaparte family can form any idea of the enormity of this offence. To eat fruit belonging to the uncle the Canon was infinitely 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 pardon he should be forgiven. He protested that he was inno- cent, but he was not believed. If I recollect rightly, his mother was at the time on a visit to M. de Marbeuf, or some other friend. The result of Napoleon's obstinacy that he was kept three whole days upon bread and cheese, and that cheese was not broccio. 1 However, he would not cry: hi dull, but not sulky. At length, en the fourth day of his punishment, a little id ol Marianne Bonaparte returned from the country, and "ii hearing ol Napoleon's disgrace she confessed that i A favourite kind of cheese iu Corsica. 6 MEMOIRS OF THE DUCHESSE D'ABRANTES. she and Marianne had eaten the fruit. It was now Mari- anne'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 consideration 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 fete 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 expression 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 with- out 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. During her residence at Ajaccio my mother renewed MY BIRTH. 7 her intimacy with her friend La?titia and her children. Napoleon was then in France. On her return thither my mother promised her good offices in favour of the young Corsican if he should be in want of friends at such a dis- tance 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 important At the close of the American war my father returned to his country, where he purchased the situation of Beceiver- General of departmental taxes. The duties of this situation caused him to fix his abode temporarily at Montpellier ; and an event which had wellnigh been attended 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 favourable 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. X t 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 weeping in great di ■: He inquired the cause, and was informed of the situation of my mother. He requested to be con- ducted to my father. " I ask for do reward," said he, " but 8 MEMOIRS OF THE DUCHESSE D'ABHANTES. from what I have heard from your servants I think I know the nature of your lady's illness, and if you will permit me I will cure her in a week." 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 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 ? " 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 summoned the doctors who were in attendance on my mother. All were men of acknowledged talent. " Nature is unbounded in her benefits," said M. Barthes ; " how do we know what she may have in reserve through the hands of this man ? Let him try his remedy." 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 ; 1 but the man appeared 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 1 A village near Montpellier, remarkable for the prevalence of insanity among its inhabitants. There is scarcely a house in the place which does not contain a padded room. MY MOTHER'S ILLNESS. 9 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 cnvey 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- wards 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 agonising pain my mother had suffered had alienated her affection from the infant to whom she had given birth. As soon as he ob- served my mother's indifference towards 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 proposed going to Bagneres. In the midst of their conversation 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, " Charles, I have an infant ! Where is it ? Is not that my child i " Iffy brother, who was seventeen years of age, has often told me that nothing could convey an idea of my mother's joy when h'-r child was placed in her arms. She was to me the fondest of mothers. She insisted on having my 10 MEMOIRS OF THE DUC HESSE D'ABR ANTES. 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. CHAPTEK II. In 1785 we arrived in Paris. My mother could not reconcile herself to a country life were it ever so agree- alde, and my father was equally desirous of returning to t< iwn. He had long wished to purchase the office of one of the farmers of public revenue, and at this very junc- ture M. Rougeau was disposed to sell his situation. Nego- tiations were immediately opened by the friends of both parties. My father resolved to manage this business per- sonally, and that circumstance determined our hasty journey. My father wished to see a great deal of com- pany, 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 mad' her a favourite 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 (" Tele- machus ") ; 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 spell-bound by the charm, not of her person, but of her manners ! Mo one could tell a story with more piquant original- ity. Often have my brother and myself sat up until three o'clock in the morning listening to her. But what particularly marked her character was her perfection in that most difficult art of presiding in her drawing-room, 12 MEMOIRS OF THE DUCHESSE D'ABRANTES. or, as the Emperor used to style it, I'art 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 Tal- leyrand, and the brother of the Archbishop of Eheims. 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- 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, treading cautiously with his club-foot, 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 con- trary, he always encouraged my prattle. I loved him, and regretted his loss. It was the fate of his wife, the Comtesse de Perigord, to attract the notice of Louis XV. This degrading dis- THE COMTESSE DE PERIGORD. 13 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 favourite. 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 grande. 1 However, notwithstand- ing this attachment, Madame de Mailly's feelings received a wound sufficiently severe. This was about the period of the rise of the 1'rincesse de Lamballe, and many circum- stances 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 honour, 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 rn from emigration, when I saw him at my 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 t<» emigration, and used to say that the proper place for men of his order was always near the throne: in peace to adorn it, ami in times of trouble to defend it. at Worms and Coblentz could not seduce him from the path which lie considered it his duty to 1 I lift Dnchewe de Mailly mi reiy tall Bhe maasuxed live feet four inches (French meaiOTC) without her high-heeled allocs. 14 MEMOIKS OF THE DUCHESSE D'ABRANTES. pursue. The unfortunate gentleman nearly became 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," said my uncle, " he had the appearance of a fresh importation. I met him in the Palais Eoyal, where he was gaping 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 ! " 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 mo- rose. " 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 com- parison 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." A few days afterwards my mother saw Napoleon, and then his irritability was at its height. He would scarcely bear any observations, even if made in his favour, 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. My father, who was acquainted with almost all the BONAPARTE'S FIRST ARRIVAL IN PARIS. 15 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 (Amti, 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, ami 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 circles of Paris on account of his talents. He perceived in Bonaparte a kind of acerbity and bitter irony, of which he long endeavoured to discover the cause. "I believe," said Albert one day to my mother, "that the poor young man feels keenly his dependent situation." " But," exclaimed my mother, " his situation is not de- pendent ; and I trust you have not made him feel that lie is not quite at home while he stays here." u Albert is not wrong in this matter," said my father, who happened to be present. "Napoleon suffers on ac- ont of hifl 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 Leetitia Bonaparte, and Albert is yours. I believe that rou • D related; now he cannot easily reconcile all 16 MEMOIRS OF THE DUCHESSE D'ABR ANTES. 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 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 ? " " Absurd ! " cried my mother ; " 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- humour 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, BONAPARTE'S CHARACTER IN YOUTH. 17 that it was in contemplation to give one of the masters a u,ner } and that each scholar would be expected to contribute a sum certainly too large for such boys. Napo- leon's censure is so far just. Well ! I saw him this niorn- 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 coloured deeply, but presently his countenance resumed its usual pale yellow hue. He refused my offer." " That was because you did not make it with sufficient delicacy," cried my mother. " You men are always such bunglers ! " " When I saw the young man so unhappy," continued my father, without being disconcerted by my mother's 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 already too many burthens, and I must not increase them by uses beyond my means, particularly when they are imposed upon me by the stupid folly of my comrades.' 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 i Albert must not be less kind and attentive to him ; although I very much doubt whether it will lead to any mutual friendship. VOL. 1. —2 CHAPTEE III. I must now recur to some events previous to those detailed in my last chapter ; for this little disarrangement 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 usual 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 unkind in you." With these words my mother almost forced my father out of the house. On his return she learned with mingled feelings of grief and joy that her sick country- man, for whom she had felt interested while he was un- known to her, was no other than the husband of Lastitia Eamolini. " He is very ill," said my father, " and I think he can- not 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 misery." My father did not like the Corsicans. He DEATH OF BONAPARTE'S FATHER. 19 wa* 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 surrounded 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 con- cealed from the invalid and his relations 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 Napoleon, who had just left Brienne and entered the Military School at Paris. 1 My mother did not confine herself to her pious at- tention 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 atlli'ted heart; and when they departed for Corsica, everything that could contribute to the comfort of their journey was provided by my father. I have seen Joseph Bonaparte often since that time, and he con- stantly alluded to the infinite obligations he lay under to my family. V. cellent man! For King Joseph I always enter- tained a high respect. The world has been unjust to 1 Napoleon li.-ft Uridine on the 1 ith of October, 1784. 20 MEMOIR§ OF THE DUCHESSE D'ABRANTES. him as well as to other members of his family, be- cause he had been guilty of some venial faults which would have been passed over in the chivalrous reign of Louis XIV., applauded in the profligate reign of Louis XV., and tolerated 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 favourite. Joseph Bonaparte 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 beloved and esteemed. Another loss no less profoundly felt by my father was that of M. Sdguier, of Msmes. In one of those daily excursions which he made either to Narbonne or to the environs of Montpellier, my father met M. de Siguier 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 Siguier wished to make a jour- ney 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 Nismes, where he invariably found M. de Seguier either engaged in his favourite science or in antiquarian researches. He died of apoplexy at an advanced age on the 1st of September, 1784. MADAME DE LAMARLIERE. 21 In the following year the province of Languedoc had to regret the death of its Syndic General, the Marquis de Montferrier, a distinguished friend of art and science, to whom the province of Langnedoc is indebted for many of its noblest monuments, particularly the construction of the new Pont du Garde. 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 colour. On her head she always wears a very large bon- net of black gros-de-naples, over winch 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 assist- ant, 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 fervour. 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 projecting 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 ? " At length she rises to depart Her 22 MEMOIRS OF THE DUCHESSE D'ABRANTES. head, which has hitherto been inclined downwards, 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 call 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 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, MADAME RICHARD. 23 and amidst a nuptial festival l 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 per- mission to go to the prison to visit her husband, and to take him anything which might comfort him in his cap- tivity. 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, seeing that the presents thus sent were articles to which there could be no reasonable objection, humanely lent herself to the innocent deception. 2 "Did you tell the Queen who sent the presents ?" said I one day to Madame de Lamarliere. "No," replied she; "why should I have informed her ? " " To receive the reward of your generosity by a grateful word from the unfortunate Princess." " Certainly that would have been gratifying to me. But I was then unfortunate myself, and I was actuated 1 Robespierre that day gave away in marriage the danghter or sister of ft carpenter named Dnplay, in whose house he lodged in the Rue Saint II nore. This Dnplay was the president of the jury on the Queen's trial. The Comtesse de Lamarliere arrived before the hour fixed for the mar- riage ceremony, and she was obliged to trait in the dining-room, where the table was laid for the nuptial feast. Her feelings may easily he imagined ! However, there she waited, ami was introduced to the carpenter's wife, and I believe to Barrere. After she was gone Robespierre said: "That ry pretty — very pretty indeed !" accompanying the observa- tion by mom odiooi remarka ' l Madame Hi. hard was very attentive to the Queen. When the Mar- qni !]e dropped a carnation, in which a note was concealed, at the feel of tie- Queen, DC and all Richard's family were thrown into the dungeons at La Force. 24 MEMOIRS OF THE DUCHESSE D'ABRANTES. 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." 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 Arch- chancellor 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. When- ever I dined at his own house, or met him in company, be used constantly to repeat : " On the 6th of November, 1784. Come, come, you connot conceal your age from me." 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 Cambace'res. He was Counsellor 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 myself ; whenever I solicited his assistance upon any occasion I always found him ready to serve me. If the thing were impossible, he told me so candidly, for he never made deceitful promises. Indeed, Cambace'res was an honest man in every sense of the word, and party spirit has vainly endeavoured to assail him. His honour, integrity, and the amiability of his manners made him generally beloved. Cambace'res was in easy circumstances, though cambac£r£s. 25 not rich, when he was at Montpellier. He was a rela- tive of the Marquis de Montfenier, whom, as well as 1 i'Aiu r refeuille, he remembered when he rose to great- ness and power. I shall have occasion to speak of his political life in another place. CHAPTEE IV. 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 estab- lishment 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 accompanied them. When Marianne came into the parlour she appeared very melancholy, and at the first word that was addressed to her she burst into tears. My mother embraced her, and endeavoured to console her. It was some time before Marianne would tell the cause of her distress. At length 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. " If I give the six francs, " 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. " Napoleon's first movement, as my mother told me when she related this anecdote, was to put his hand into his MARIANNE BONAPARTE AT SAINT CYR. 27 pocket However, a moment's reflection assured him that he should rind nothing there ; he checked himself, coloured slightly, and stamped his foot. My mother could not refrain from laughing when she thought of the singular resemblance between the luncheon 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 boursiers (free pupils) in the schools, at which there were at the same time the children of many noble and wealthy families. Now, the Bmiaparte 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 getting Lucien placed at Brienne. A great deal of discussion 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 were 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 My mother gave her the money, and her distress was ended. When they got into the carriage, Napoleon, who had ined his feelings in the presence of his Bister, vented violent invective against the detestable i of such establishments as Saint Cyr and the Military Schools. It was evident that he deeply felt the humiliation of his Bister. My uncle, who was of a hasty temper, soon got out of patience at the bitterness with which lie expressed himself, and made some obser- ions which were aot rory agreeable to him. Napoleon was silent immediately, for at that time 28 MEMOIRS OF THE DUCHESSE D'ABR ANTES. 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- tion to the same subject, and at length his language became so violent that my uncle exclaimed : " 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, " said he, " but at the expense of the State. " " 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. " " 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. " 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 admirable footing he established his military schools. I am con- vinced that he long retained the recollection of the pain- ful humiliations he had suffered at the Military School of Paris. He certainly was no favourite there. Several of the heads of the Establishment, who were acquainted with my father, asssured him that young Napoleon Bonaparte possessed a temper which there was no possibility of rendering even sociable. He was dis- satisfied with everything, and expressed his dissatisfac- tion 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 NAPOLEON'S FIRST APPEARANCE IN UNIFORM. 29 from the college: his removal was unanimously urged. 1 Id' obtained a sub-lieutenancy in a regiment of artillery, and he went to Grenoble, Valence, Anxonne, 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 loch 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 ridiculous ; 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, Bonaparte could not relish a joke; and when he found himself the ■t 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, instead of being angry, should be happy that they joked with him " Y