MY MEMOIRS
PRINCESS
CAROLINE MURAT
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Jfo in I r r.
LIBRARY
THE UNIVERSITY
OF CALIFORNIA
SANTA BARBARA
PRES1 N I ID lO
Mrs. MacKinley Helm
ill
MY MEMOIRS
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MY MEMOIRS
THE PRINCESS CAROLINE MURAT
NliW YORK
(.. P. PUTNAM'S SONS
1910
Richard Clay & Sons, Limited,
bread street hill, e.c., and
bungay, suffolk.
INTRODUCTION
Amid the throng of Memoirs of the Second
Empire there would appear to be little room for
yet another to find place. Every phase of the
period, both personal and political, has already
been so fully discussed and dealt with, that there
remain few events, and fewer anecdotes, that have
not been garnered into the literary granari)
But 1 judge that the present volume offers especial
claims to attention in the circumstance that it is
the autobiography of an actual member of the
Imperial family, who lived and moved among
the activities and gaieties of the Court ol
Napoleon III, and who enjoyed unexampled
opportunities of observation at first hand.
Princess Caroline had not thought of writing
her memoirs until I suggested to her that her
intimate souvenirs would be interesting to English
readers. We were sitting together at her fireside-
one winter evening. She was in a reminiscent
mood. She spoke of her childhood in Amerii
ot her girlish joy when, the ban of exile being
removed by the fall of Louis Philippe, her family
were permitted to return to France. She gave
INTRODUCTION
me her first impressions of Paris — so different
from the Paris of which she had dreamed — of
Louis Napoleon, of the Duke de Morny ; and
told many stories of the habitues of the Court
at the Tuileries, Compiegne, and Fontainebleau.
Her personal recollections of the salon of her
aunt Princess Mathilde, and of the men and
women of letters and art with whom she had daily
associated at the Rue de Courcelles, were especially
interesting to me. She spoke of the audacities of
Princess de Metternich, the extravagances of
Countess de Castiglione. She discussed the
mysterious murder of her handsome young rela-
tive Count Camerata, expressed her candid
opinion of the Empress Eugenie, vividly recalled
the disasters of the war, the flight from Paris, her
years of exile in England, and dwelt with a note
of sadness on the death of the Emperor, and the
sacrifice of Imperial hopes in the tragic fate of the
Prince Imperial.
" Princess," I said, " you ought really to write
your memoirs."
The suggestion surprised her. It had never
occurred to her that she possessed information
which had not already been made public by the
scores of irresponsible gossips who had been pry-
ing into the secrets of the Court and mingling
their imperfectly ascertained facts with clumsily
invented fictions. She objected that she had had
no literary training, that she had kept no diary,
no notes, that she could not pretend to a know-
vi
INTRODUCTION
ledge of politics. All that she could do would
■ to set down her personal souvenirs, perha
very crudely, and in exceedingly ungrammatical
English. The attempt would at least afford her
an a ble occupation in the seclusion of her
intry home in Suffolk.
In the spring of [902, the Princess was
engaged upon the work. She wrote tome occa-
sionally to supply a date, a forgotten name, or to
ask advice She had no access to books or
documentary records by which to verity her
recollections. In July of the same year, she
invited me to Redisham to review the results of
her literary labours. My visit was interrupted by
her illness. She took to her bed on the 13th
of the month. She always had a superstitious
• r of the number 13. In this, as in so many
instance's connected with her family, there was
a fatal association. After a ten days' illne
Princess Caroline passed away on the 23rd ot
Jul)', 1902.
These .Memoirs now appear in the condition in
which their author left them, unembellished and
fragmentary. W.id Princess Caroline lived to
fulfil her intentions, she would have expanded
and elaborated certain sections of the book. I am
not sure that she would not have re written it
entirely. She particularly wished to revise the
chapter referring to the literary receptions at the
Rue de Courcelles, and one would have been glad
to have the fuller details which she could have
vii
INTRODUCTION
given. Apart from the hostess herself, no one
was better equipped than Princess Caroline to
write an account of that incomparable assemblage
of all that was best and brightest in the intellect of
the Second Empire.
It is probable that had the Princess lived to see
her work in the printer's proofs, she would have
omitted, or at least softened, many comments and
criticisms on eminent persons which in the rush of
spontaneous writing she had set down. Some of
them appear unduly harsh and even a little unkind.
One can understand, and perhaps condone, her
prejudices against England and the English. She
was aware that they had little justification, and
that her insistence upon the point was un-
necessary. But she had the courage of her
opinions regarding individuals, and bitter though
her statements concerning the Empress Eugenie
sometimes are, I doubt if she would willingly have
withdrawn or qualified any of them.
In preparing her manuscript for the press, I
have taken no liberties beyond making a few
literal corrections and adding some translations
from her own notes. I believe Princess Caroline
wished me to do more than this ; but to alter her
phrasing or smooth down her convictions would
have been to rob the book of its character as an
autobiography, and I have preferred to leave it
as it is.
Robert Leighton.
London, 19 10.
viii
fAut
CONTENTS
I HAPTER I
AN .
on Murat, Ki: N -His marriage with
I I lis milr irj i reer and •
nal charact • poleon's opinion of him, "The
bravest man in the world " — G < idoudal —
Mur.tt ami Fouchd The Battle of Tolentino — My
father — Execution of the King of Nap
CHAPTER 11
IMPERIAL EXILES IN THE UNIT] . TES
My birth and childhood in Bordentown — Point Breeze
— King Joseph Prince Joseph- 1 I apartes
deficient in the musical sense — The d'Argaiz —
neral Bertrand — Billy Vanderbilt — Edwin Stevens
— A Peach Dance— Hamilton Beckett — A Brok
Engagement — "Aunt Becky"— Fanny Kemble —
Mr. Townsend — The Connover Girls — Charlie
Wentworth and his romantic story . . . 24
CHAPTER 111
THl : N OF 1848 AND IHK PRESIDENT
Downfall of Louis Philippe— Our Removal to France —
Voyage to Havre— from Fire My lust
Impressions of Paris — Prince Louis Napoleon - 11
ix
CONTENTS
PAGE
candidature as President of the Republic — My first
meeting with him — His personal character — The
Pavilion de Breteuil— The Princess Mathilde— The
Chateau de St. Gratien— The Prince and Princess
de Wagram— Nicolas Clary's foot— A Recollection
of 1870 48
CHAPTER IV
NOTRE DAME DES ARTS
Princess Mathilde — My father is sent as Ambassador to
Italy — I take lessons from Giraud — Receptions at
the Rue de Courcelles — Prince Demidoff— The
Princess and her friends — Madame de Solms . 67
CHAPTER V
THE COUP D'ETAT
Receptions at the Elyse'e— Mrs. Ridgeway's soirees
dansantes — Madame Musard — I excel in dancing,
and dance myself into an engagement with M. de
Chassiron— The difficulty of getting married— My
honeymoon — The Orleanist set — A bridegroom in
a fix— The Imperial family— A duel by cards— The
Coup d'£tat— My adventure at the Elysee Palace . 84
CHAPTER VI
RESTORATION OF THE EMPIRE
The Imperial Eagles— The Prince-President's tour of the
Provinces — His speech at Bordeaux — Miss Howard
couples my name with that of the future Emperor —
The Prince honours me with a visit to Beauregard
— Restoration of the Empire— Matrimonial negoti-
ations—Mademoiselle de Montijo — The Emperor's
speech announcing his betrothal — The Empress
Eugenie— Des Pierettes— Visit of Queen Victoria-
English beauties at Compiegne— Birth of the Prince
Imperial— The Prince of Orange and the Mabille
CONTENTS
< dens — A Death of the Prince of
CHAPTER VII
IH. •: .
Imont and the mar-
rial Clotild Napol n —
Ch III I his wit —
Family dinners and Sunday even t the
Tuileries 1 1 when tl
i A Shi
Tu . Perilous gym-
nastics and inconvenient crinolines M i
delli- I . I and his family — Madame
II:: leg ;. General I -His duel with
Prince Achilli i notoi Rocheforl Ma lai
I ralliffet — The Dinner of the Twenty 1
Prii M ernich— A Lenten Ball The
Comti I I Ballet of th s—
ants — The Emperor's escape fro
nation • dal — The shadow of
tragedy — The mysterioi i and
its I -The Court at Biarritz — 1 tt rs from
Pri: Anna -Her marriage with the Duke de
Mouchy . . . . . . .126
CHAPTER VIII
TH] RUSSIAN WAR
Death of my uncle, JeYdn naparte "The sou
between two N The 1 *ul Vforny
M. de Persignj 1 onfli tin influences oi the
ipress Eugenie and the Prince Napoleon 111-
the I mp ror — The Duke of Gramont's
loyalty to him itii in of War Action of
I in;'! I he Prini N pularity
— I nt Metternich and Nigra
— Disastrous pi of the 1 The Regent's
nr. I rcacher) 1 1 Troc hu Se dan
xi
CONTENTS
PAGE
— Our flight from Paris — Flight of the Empress
Eugenie — " Such a nice man ! " — Her arrival in
England i74
CHAPTER IX
EXILES IN ENGLAND
Camden Place, Chislehurst — Miss Howard — The
Emperor a prisoner of war — The Prussians in
possession — Prince Leopold v. Hohenzollern —
Buzenval — Monseigneur Bauer — Paris in London —
The Princess Mathilde — The Empress's suite at
Chislehurst — The price of a horse — The Empress
visits the prisoner at Wilhelmshohe — General Bour-
baki — Marshal Bazaine's plan to place the Prince
Imperial on the throne rejected by the Empress —
Her policy discussed — A winter shooting party —
"Brab" and others — Lord Granville's solicitude —
The ex-Emperor's release and retreat to England
— Mr. Gladstone — A railway adventure — Princess
Metternich 210
CHAPTER X
DEATH OF NAPOLEON III
A trip to Italy — My second marriage — Redisham —
Return to Paris — Effects of siege and Commune—
The Cote d'Azur— The Emperor's illness — His
death — Sir William Gull's opinion— Mme. Rouher's
experiment — Palmistry 249
CHAPTER XI
THE EX-EMPRESS
The Emperor's will— The Prince Imperial—" Papa, she's
pinching me ! " — Daniel Home — Coming-of-age of
the Prince Imperial — The box of chocolates — An
enterprising princess — Anecdote of the Empress of
Austria — Lord and Lady Stradbroke . . .270
xii
CONTENTS
I MAPI ER XII
1HE PRINCE IMPERIAL
I am rebuffed by tl Prince Imperial at
i The < • Spiritualism— Death of
rm I he ami ualities
: ! — Hei superstitions— The
Zulu v. operial volunti ers G< neral
ury I he Prii rhe question of
his will 1 1 : ast night in '1 late ! "
Zizi d'Arcos — " The
ir W ki Funeral of the Prince Imperial —
rid Prin i1 -Incidents in
the II •■ Je sui • Louis Quat n
Index •• 34'
XII 1
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
THE PRINCESS CAROLINE MURAT
Facing page
Frontispiece
THE MURAT HOUSE, BORDENTOWN, NEW JERSEY .
(From a painting by Princess Caroline)
PRINCE MURAT
PRINCESS MATHILDE
(From an original painting by Giraud)
PRINCESS CAROLINE IN 1 85 1
(From a painting by Benedict Mason)
THE EMPRESS EUGENIE
(From a painting by P. de Pommaigron)
ANNA MURAT, DUCHESS DE MOUCHY
LE DUC DE MORNY ... . .
THE EMPEROR NAPOLEON III ...
(From a photograph by W. and D. Downey)
PRINCESS CAROLINE
LETTER FROM NAPOLEON III TO PRINCESS CAROLINE
REDISHAM HALL, SUFFOLK .....
THE PRINCE IMPERIAL
(From a photograph by Bassano)
THE EX-EMPRESS EUGENIE .....
(Profit a photograph taken in Paris, 1906)
xiv
26
48
70
88
108
164
180
210
249
255
280
296
326
MY MEMOIRS
CHAPTER I
Joachim Murat, King of Naples— His man :h Caroline
Bonaparte His military career and personal character —
N .'.-■■ •pinion of him, "The bravest man in the
world"—1 loudal — Murat and Fouchd — The
Battle of Tolentino — My father — Execution of the King
ol Naples
Small I write my memoirs? Many times has
this question arisen in my mind. I have hesi-
tated for two reasons. First, I have never
studied the English language. All the teaching
I ever had, ended with my nursery days.
Secondly, I fear I might fail to make my life,
eventful though it has been, sufficiently interest-
ing to attract and captivate the attention of my
ders. Nevertheless, 1 have decided to make
a venture.
It is a matter of history that in the revolution
of the [8th Brumaire, (oachim Murat took a
leading part and stood by Napoleon in that crisis
of his life when, entering the Council of the
MY MEMOIRS
Five Hundred at St. Cloud, he was received
with the cry " Down with the tyrant." Murat's
answer was, " Charge! — Bayonets!" and the
battalion of soldiers under him, with firm step
and levelled pieces, marched into the hall and
dissolved the Assembly. Not long afterwards,
Murat being at the time thirty-three years old,
the Emperor gave him his youngest sister,
Caroline Bonaparte, in marriage. A fortnight
after his marriage he accompanied Napoleon
across the St. Bernard into Italy. At Marengo
he commanded the cavalry. The Emperor
later lavished favours on his favourite brother-
in-law, who became Grand Admiral, Prince of
the Empire, Grand Duke de Berg and Cleves,
and finally King of Naples.
I have read that my grandfather's three
distinguishing characteristics were high chivalric
courage, great skill as a general, and almost
unparalleled coolness in the hour of peril. His
form was tall, his tread like that of a king, his
face strikingly noble, while his piercing glance
few men could bear. He had heavy black
whiskers and long black locks, which contrasted
singularly with his fiery blue eyes. He usually
wore a three-cornered hat, with a magnificent
white plume of ostrich feathers. This plume,
with many other relics, is now in the possession
of my eldest brother, Prince Murat.
My grandfather's dazzling exterior made him
16
ANTECEDENTS
a mark for the enemy's bullet The wonder is
that, being so conspicuous, he was never shot
down and was rarely wounded. At one battle a
bullet grazed his cheek. Like lightning his sword
punished the offender by carrying away two of
his fingers. I have read that at the battle of
Aboukir he charged with his cavalry straight
through the Turkish ranks, driving column after
column into the sea.
The affection of a single man could conquer
him whom the enemy seemed unable to over-
come. His own life was nothing, but the life of
a friend w.is surpassingly dear to him. At one
time during the Russian campaign he stood calmly
waiting the ball that might shatter him, when,
casting his eye round, he saw General Belliard
still by his side, notwithstanding he had ordered
his guard to leave him. The King asked the
general why he did not withdraw. " Every man
is master of his own lite," was the reply, "and as
your Majesty seems determined to dispose of
yours, I must stand or fall beside you." The
generous heart of the King was touched by the
love and fidelity of the brave general. Turning
his horse, he galloped out of the tire. Idle King's
determination to remain arose from a dispute
between the Emperor and himself, Napoleon
being vexed at the opinion boldly expressed by
Mnrat that a march to Moscow would be the
destruction of the army.
i; "7
MY MEMOIRS
There was a striking contrast between the
Emperor Napoleon and his brother-in-law, King
Joachim of Naples, as they rode side by side
along the lines before a battle. The Emperor,
with his short square figure, his plain three-
cornered hat, leather breeches, and the ever
famous redingote grise, was certainly a counter-
foil to the tall imposing figure and magnificent
array of the King, whose towering white plume
was seen leading the way for the thousands that
struggled behind him. The Emperor once said,
" Murat is the bravest man in the world," and
many times he was seen to watch the white plume
as it charged like a beam of light, as though the
plume were the star of his destiny.
I remember hearing that at some battle,
perhaps Aboukir, when watching thus, the
Emperor saw Murat in the hottest of the fight :
he was almost alone in the centre of the Turkish
cavalry for a while. The battle thickened where
the white plume stooped and rose as the charger
reared and plunged amid the sabre strokes that
fell on every side. Then a single rider burst
from the crowd, his sword red and dripping to
the hilt. His steed, staggering under him, seemed
ready to fall, but he, with a shout which those
around him never forgot to their last day, turned
his horse on the foe, and, followed by a body of
his own cavalry, trampled down all that stopped
his way.
18
ANTECEDENTS
In 1807, in mid-winter and in a piercing
torm, perhaps the most important, and
rtainly the most bloody battle was fought, I
mean the battle of 1 ydau. During this strange
fight, seeing a knot of R Idiers who for
me tin I kept up a fi< 1 n his men,
Murat galloped his horse towards their level'
muskets. A few of his guards followed. Without
waiting to count his toes, he seized the bridle in
his teeth, and with a pistol in one hand and his
drawn s\v<>rd in the other hurst in headlong fury
on them and cleared the way as if swept by a
hurricane.
My grandfather loved the Emperor with
supreme devotion. The treaty of Austria caused
:ir first, I may say their only, estrangement, and
this was tl. ison of the King's absence from
Waterloo. It was during the heat of that battle
that the Emperor exclaimed, "Ah! had 1 my
faithful Murat with me, the day would not be
t!"
I must relate two anecdotes which my -rand-
mother was wont to tell. One relates to the sad
event of the death of the Due d'Enghien the
one stain, to my mind, on the glorious career of
the greatest military genius th er lived. It
was nine o'clock in the morning when General
M onald, coming into the room 0 King
Joachim, told him the hue d'Enghien had been
retly put to death in his prison. My grand-
1 w
MY MEMOIRS
father jumped from his bed in a passion of pain
and anger, and seizing a valuable Sevres vase on
his table threw it violently to the floor, saying,
" Tis treachery ! I had the Emperor's word."
The second anecdote is this : in 1804 Georges
Cadoudal, one of the chiefs of Vendee, took a
leading part with Pichegru in the plot, called the
plot of the Infernal Machine, directed against the
First Consul. Later on, when the Emperor
offered Cadoudal his pardon, he refused to accept
the token of clemency unless all those incrimin-
ated with him who acted under his orders were
pardoned also. King Joachim happened to be
present when Fouche, the Secretary of Police,
communicated the decision of Cadoudal to the
Emperor. Napoleon, turning to my grandfather,
said, "What is your opinion?" "My advice,
sire," returned Murat, " is, pardon all the band of
brigands. Those Bretons will make splendid
grenadiers. I will take Cadoudal for my aide-de-
camp." The Emperor made no answer, but
Fouch6 interposed, bringing forward some strong
arguments that carried the day. The Emperor
listened in silence, then, after some moments of
deep thought, said hurriedly, " You are right,
Fouche\ Let justice have its course." Murat
turned to Fouche, who could not repress a look
of triumph, and casting at him the one word
" Viper ! " thundered out of the room, not choosing
to see or return Fouche^s obsequious bow.
20
ANTECEDENTS
The King of Naples lost the battle of Tolen-
tino, May 2, [815. He gave up the command
of his troops and retreated to Naples, arriving
thereon May [8, late in the evenin 11
cheered by his people, as if he had returned
victorious at the head of his army instead ol a
heart-broken monarch returning to bid adieu to
Naples, his wife and children, and fly for his life.
ddie Queen, who had used every persuasion to
prevent this war with Austria, feeling a secret
presentiment of evil, was lull ol reproaches and
anger. So unkind were her words of greeting
that the unhappy King exclaimed, " If you see
me alive, madam, pray believe it is that I have
sought death in vain ! "
This was their last interview. In the middle
of the night King Joachim left the palace secretly,
accompanied by a few faithful friends. Thus, on
horseback, with a small escort, he left his king-
dom for ever, determined to join the Emperor
Napoleon and offer his sword and his services
once again to light for France, remembering
alas ! too late that he was a Frenchman.
The Kin.; carried a large amount of money
and a quantity of very valuable diamonds. These
were sewn in the lining of his waistcoat and in a
wide belt he wore. At a small place — I cannot
remember the name— boats belonging to lisher-
men were hired, and the King and his party
gained Ischia, and accepted for a night or two the
1 1
MY MEMOIRS
hospitality of a French merchant. Later on they
took refuge on board the Santa Caterina, and
landed at Cannes at the end of May.
It was from this place that the King sent a
messenger with letters to the Emperor — who
declined his services, saying that under existing
circumstances it would be most imprudent to
allow him to join the army, that he must wait
and hope for better times.
It was also at Cannes that the news of the
flight of the Queen reached King Joachim. His
grief was increased by the fact that, putting her-
self and her children under the protection of the
Austrians, she was escorted to Trieste under the
Austrian flag, there to await the decision of King
Ferdinand as to her future destination.
My father, Napoleon Lucien Charles Murat,
was then eleven years old, having been born at
Milan, May 16, 1803. He bore the title of
Prince de Ponte Corvo. Often during my child-
hood his recollections led him back to thgse early
years, and his voyage to Trieste on board the
Tremendous.
The Due d'Enghien was shot in the castle
moat outside Vincennes, on the 31st of March,
1804. Many years later a similar fate awaited
my grandfather, who was taken prisoner at
Pizzo. Beaten at Tolentino, he lost in one day
both his army and his throne. He fled to
Corsica and thence to Pizzo, where, through the
22
ANIIU EDENTS
ichery ol captain, he was captured. The
order came from Naples that he was to be court
martialled on th' I I .1, one colonel,
two lieutenant-colonels, and two captains com-
posed the commission chosen to judge a hero
and a King. 1 1 • refused to accept, or appear
before, such a tribunal, and was therefore con-
demned without ice. On being asked if he
had any request to make, he said he wished to
have a hath prepared for him and perfumed with
a i i de-Cologne, and, as a last request,
that his eyes should not be bandaged. Both
wishes v granted, and, by order sent by King
I erdinand, twelve of his own soldiers w< i
!ected to shoot him. When the fatal hour
came, seeing the emotion of his men, Murat
said, " My friends, if you wish to spare me, aim
at my heart." These were his hist words. It
was the rjth of October, 1815.
Little wonder that the old superstition against
the number 13 should be intensified with us, and
it is strange that the letter M is the 1 3 L h letter
of the alphabet. My mother was born and my
her w.is buried on the 13th day oi~ the month.
I have told y<»u my family traditions: legends
ot L;l<>ry with which my cradle was rocked, my
childhood taught. They have grown up and
ah old with me. Yet how imperfect they all
seem to picture the brave soldier ol two hundred
battles !
-3
CHAPTER II
IMPERIAL EXILES IN THE UNITED STATES
My birth and childhood in Bordentown — Point Breeze —
King Joseph — Prince Joseph — The Bonapartes deficient
in the musical sense — The d'Argaiz — General Bertrand
— Billy Vanderbilt — Edwin Stevens — A Peach Dance —
Hamilton Beckett — A Broken Engagement — "Aunt Becky"
— Fanny Kemble — Mr. Townsend — The Connover Girls —
Charlie Wentworth and his romantic story
My father, Prince Napoleon Lucien Charles, was
in exile in the United States, and so it happened
that I was born in America, on the borders of the
Delaware. I came into the world with the last
sigh of the old year, that is to say at midnight on
the 31st December, 1833. Of course I have been
told I was a most wonderful specimen of humanity.
I seemed older than the usual run of babies. My
hair being quite long, of a bright golden colour,
at six weeks old, it was held back from my eyes
by small combs. It was so extraordinary that a
lock was cut and preserved by my mother and
presented to me when I was fifteen. This lock
of hair I still have.
I have said that my father was in exile. When
24
EXILES IN THE UNITED STATES
h'- was eleven \ old his mother left Naples
with her four children — two girls and two boj
and retired to the Chateau de Frohsdorff, taking
the tide- oi i de Lipona — Napoli trans-
posed. I my father lived till he was joined
by his uncle, the Emperor Napoleon's eldest
brother, King I oi Spain, who on the fall
of the First Empire had retired to the United
> and taken a lovel) near Bordentown,
New Jersey, where he lived for eleven years
Count de Survilliers. Joseph Bonaparte had al-
ready been in America in 1 8oo, having been chosen
by the First I >ul as Plenipotentiary to the
United States. Alter Waterloo he accompanied
Napoleon to Rochfort, himself taking ship to New
Jersey and becoming an American citizen. Hi-
re turned to Europe in [832. His wife, Marie
Clary (1777 1^45), daughter of a wealthy citizen
.Marseilles, and sister-in-law of Bernadotte,
King of Sweden, bore him two daughters. It
was at Bordentown that I entered this sorrv
world, my father having in 1831 married a Miss
Carolina Georgina Fraser, of Scotch origin, de-
scending from the old family of Lovat. Her
father was an officer in the British Army who,
having served during the American Revolution,
married a young Virginian and settled in South
Carolina. They owned very extensive plantations
near Charleston, and some of the women slaves,
devoted to their mistress, were given to her i^n
-5
MY MEMOIRS
her marriage and came north with her ; among
them a dear old negress called Jeannette, who
was deaf and dumb, but such an intelligent
creature ! She takes a place among my earliest
recollections. She taught me to speak by signs
almost before I could use my tongue. Before I
was four years old I could read both French and
English — and at the early age of eight I can
remember reading the newly published Mysteres
de Paris aloud to my father during an illness.
My grandmother left by her will the portion
of her fortune termed by French law part disponible
to my eldest brother ; very much to the displeas-
ure of Prince Achille Murat, her elder son, who
unfortunately for him had no children. Achille
married in 1826 a Miss Catherine Bird Willis,
great-niece of George Washington, and lived in
Tallahassee, Florida, where he acted as director
of posts. Dying in 1847, ne ^ft no ne^r direct.
He took his revenge of the Queen's act by con-
stituting Comte Joachim Murat, son of a cousin,
sole legatee of all family relics, as well as all his
share of claims to which the family might be
entitled from the government of Naples, or
from large properties in France which had been
confiscated by the restoration.
The King of Naples owned the Palace of the
Elysee (now belonging to the State and kept as
the official residence of the President of the
Republic), the Ecuries d'Artois, the Chateau de
26
EXILES l\ THE UNITED STAT]
Neuilly, La Moth 5 int II in the Depart-
nt of Deux Sevres, and other properti It
will that the Emj
III l renounced all claims of all kind.-,
every member of the Bonaparte and the Murat
Lmily. My own small share in th Q last
expi ! wish 1 of a bracelet in black,
and white enamel, twisting in and out like so
many snakes, the centre a beautiful stone cameo
representing the King ; a bracelet with plain wide
gold band, the centre a ver) ! irg l1 —the stone
of ill omen! — and an original painting ol the King
on horseback.
My father, on hearing of the Queen's illn
1 It is . that Print I iroline, who subsequently
knew • intimately, makes no reference to the
visit of Louis N in to America in 1837. This was when
she v. hild of three years. He I two months in
1 irk, where he lived at the VVasl ■ Hotel, 1 I
way. Several of his cousins were in the United S it the
time, but he does n ar to have met any of them, although
it was bis intention to visit Jerome Bonaparte at Baltimore and
Achille Murat in Florida, and probably he would have done so
he not been recalled to Europe by the news of his mother's
illness and by Conncau's imperative venez!" It is
interesting, however, to know that he made tl . tintance
of V. • >n Irving, whom he visited at Sunnyside. Irving
had also met Mile, de Montijo. On th tsion of the
53, he wrote: " Louis Napoleon and
e*nie de Mont; i, Emperor and Empress of France! one
of whom I ha\ it my O on the Hudson,
and the other ol whom, when a child, I have had on my knee
rranada ! "
-7
MY MEMOIRS
sailed immediately for France, and although an
exile without passport, crossed Paris and proceeded
to Italy. He passed the frontier disguised as a
courier, and entered Florence standing behind
his mother's carriage, sent to meet him. He had
not lost an hour in hastening to her, but he arrived
too late to see her alive. The Queen died in her
Palace in Piazza Ogni Santi, Florence, in 1839.
She was born at Ajaccio in 1782 and married in
1800. I have heard my father tell of the dreadful
looting in the palace at the moment it was known
the Queen had breathed her last. Maids and
valets, in fact the whole household, seemed to
have organized a raid in anticipation of the event,
each had a friend or friends waiting below on the
piazza, ready to receive the stolen treasures.
Dresses, furs, laces, jewels, were thrown from
every window, and many valuable things were
carried off before the pillage could be stopped.
On leaving Italy, my father decided to gain
Gibraltar, thinking he would be quite safe under
the protection of England ; but, like the great
Emperor, he was mistaken, and his trust nearly
proved fatal. He was arrested and kept prisoner
on a vessel in port. It was said he was to be
shot. Each day he awaited his sentence, won-
dering if he should see another dawn ; days spent
in the agony of suspense, when one morning an
eagle was seen hovering over the ship. The poor
prisoner felt his heart leap with joy. An eagle —
28
EXILES IX THE UNITED STATES
surely .1 sign ol >1 luck! The very same day
the Prince v iven his liberty and started t
Ameri< a.
At the time of my father's return to America
we were living in a large red-brick hou Tl.
particular attraction, I might say the only one, of
which the house could boast, was a long row of
very fine linden trees running along the front and
extending on each side beyond the building, form-
ing a wide gravelled way, or terrace, stretching
from end to <-m\. This mansion and garden
nearly joined King Joseph's estate. Point Breeze ;
only an avenue dividing our grounds and the
Park.
In one of the houses on this avenue lived the
son and grandson of old Judge Hopkinson. The
younger of the two boys, Charley, or Chip as he
was best known, was a very devoted admirer and
rather a favourite of mine. The poor boy came
over to France in 1853, I think, with my aunt,
Princess Achille Murat, and we spent some hap;
months in Paris. We had been children t< >gether ;
then boy and girl lovers, and it was sad to see
how much he felt the parting when the hour
came. 1 tried to cheer him with visions ol a
future meeting, but he could not be comforted,
and very shortly after we had news of his death.
On reaching Bordentown on his return from
Europe one hot summer night, wishing to surprise
us, my father walked into the half-lighted room,
MY MEMOIRS
eager to embrace us after his long absence, for-
getting in his haste the long mirror that occupied
one end of the hall, almost from floor to ceiling.
Through this he crashed, closely followed by a
beautiful Italian greyhound, the Queen's favourite
dog, which he had brought from Florence.
Point Breeze, the Count de Survillier's place,
was indeed lovely, and the estate one of the finest
in the country, extending as it did on both sides
of the high road which ran from Bordentown to
Trenton, being about seven miles from the latter
and scarcely two from the former place. As I
look back, an old woman, through this long vista
of years, it seems to me that I have seen nothing
on this side of the Atlantic that can in any way
compare with Point Breeze, and the remembered
scenes of my childhood. Does memory lend its
enchantments ? Could I see once again this spot
— could I once more stand on the river's banks
and watch the glorious sunsets — should I be dis-
appointed ? Perhaps so, and it is well that 1
should keep my illusions, if illusions they are.
Nothing is more sad than to lose them.
The house was built in the style of an Italian
villa, only one storey high and with a flat terrace
roof overlooking the park and woods. There was
a large marble entrance-hall, with wide staircase
at one end, the steps broad and very low, so that
each step seemed a small landing — this to avoid
any fatigue to the Count, who, no longer young,
3°
EXILES IX THE UNITED STATES
is in delicate health. The stal md
picture gallery were on the ground floor, tl
first floor 1 reserved for ry-day lit . The
picture gallery held the wh< on the
urden, which led from one terrace to another
till the park was reached. In the- middle of
this gallery st 1 a marble column holding the
bu-^t of Princess Zen, tide, the Count's favourite
daughter, the bust a beautiful one by Canova.
By the Count's orders the marble column w;
wreathed with fresh flowers each mornin
Anion- family portraits were also magnificent
pictures by the most celebrated of the old masters.
I can scarely tell .it this distance of time of all the
wonders and treasures accumulated in this exile
home where the Count loved to live, surrounded
by all the souvenirs and luxuries of his early life.
There were many examples of the Italian masters,
such as Luca Giordano and Correggio, but of all
the pictures I think I loved those of Rubens
best. The glorious colouring, the cherub faces
oi his babies, charmed my infant mind. 1 should
like to describe the beautie i park and woods
and tell of the giant trees, as old as the new
world ; ill it lake with its blue waters sur-
rounded by wide walks from which rose high
nks, almost hills, thickly clothed to the summit
with green bushes ami masses of wild rhododen-
dron • of every shape and hue. It was my delight
to climb these hanks, breaking my way where no
3>
MY MEMOIRS
pathway was, till, reaching the top, I could see
the outer world. A beautiful panorama stretched
before me, with the Delaware flowing peacefully
at my feet. Not so peaceful was my return home
with tangled hair, torn frock, and face and hands
the worse for my battle with the brambles, to
encounter the cross looks and angry reprimand
of nurse and governess.
Far away in the woods, some miles no doubt,
stood a fountain built near a natural spring, sup-
posed to be charmed. There was a sort of pond
parlour with stone seats around, and here people
came from far and near to wish and drink the
charmed waters. Near this fountain were most
of the picnics of our salad days. My brother,
myself, and young friends, mostly boys — I am
almost ashamed to say I never cared for girls.
And many times have I there been crowned
Queen of the May.
This spot was also haunted by a great friend
of mine, a poor half-witted creature — he lived in
the woods winter and summer, day and night,
taking shelter only in the keepers' huts. He
never understood strangers, and disliked them,
rushing away if he caught sight of an unfamiliar
face, uttering the most unearthly sounds. He
had a certain cunning about him, as often with
these uncanny things. He spent his time taming
squirrels, such lovely little animals, not like
English squirrels, but much bigger and dark
32
EXILES l\ THE UNITED STATES
M wish grey, more the colour ol a blue roan horse.
I forget tin- name of this " man of th<- hush," who
could rarely be persuaded to accept any food,
living entirel) on nuts and wild fruit, principally
on persimmons. The persimmon tree abounded
in the park and v. The poor idiot was very
fond ol me, and always greeted me with smil<
and an offering of wild flowers. I have often
O
felt sorry that I never knew what became oi my
:id of early days.
The Count had a large retinue of people round
him. I have forgotten the names of most ol
them. Mr. Maillard, his private secretary, 1
knew later on. From him we received the news
of the Count's death during a visit to Florence in
14. The Count himself 1 cm never forget —
his face and person were so deeply inn d on
my mind by a large oil painting, taken after his
death as he was lying in state, in evening dress,
with the broad ribbon of the Legion d'Honneur
across his chest and, strange though it s< -ins, a
rosebud in his buttonhole, lie was considered
to bear a resemblance to his younger brother, the
Kmperor Napoleon, but more in figure and habit
than in face.
Kin- [oseph left all his American property to
his grandson Joseph, son of Princess Zenaide,
who bore the title of Prince de Musignano. He
came to Point Breeze after his grandfather's
o
death, and there were: great rejoicings and
c 33
MY MEMOIRS
illuminations for his arrival. He took a great
fancy to me, and I was very proud of my big
cousin, but his stay in America was very short
and I never saw him in after years. He died
when still young. He had a very Italian face,
but was not handsome, being short and inclined, as
all the Bonapartes, to be stout. A certain charm
of manner and a bewitching smile were his chief
attractions. He spoke with a strong Italian
accent, even when speaking French, but he was
a real Prince, and his advent in the United States
created quite a flutter among the American
belles. Finding himself for the first time away
from home and country, with not one familiar
face to greet him, he felt dull and lonely. He
did not care for the invitations that came like
rain from every side, so I was allowed to ride,
drive, row, or wander with him in the mossy
woods, where lilies-of-the-valley grew, where all
breathed of peace and gladness. The sweet
singing of the birds, the soft rustling of the leaves,
the ripple of the stream as it wandered on its way
— all told of the quiet and happiness that childhood
only knows before the sad awakening into the
troubled sea of life — of the world with its vanities,
its jealousies, its turmoil, its sorrows. The Prince
was a charming companion, very clever, talked
well on all subjects, and knew how to make
himself agreeable and fascinating to young and
old. Perhaps you will say my opinions given are
34
EXILES IX THE UNITED STATES
ely those of my age. Granted; but you
must not forget I was an American girl, and also
brought up to a life far beyond my year .
In one of the highest parts of the park,
reached by a long flight of stone steps, there was
a platform, or rather a wide square, paved, f-xcept
<mi the side where it overlooked a deep ravine;
on this side was a gravel walk and high railing,
formed by stone columns supporting a parapet.
In the centre of the paved part stood a belved
with winding stairs inside and balconies running
o
round the building at different heights on the
i \terior. When the top of this observatory was
hed, it disclosed a magnificent panorama of
the surrounding country. Prince Joseph was
extravagantly fond of music, and delighted on
summer evenings in holding little impromptu open-
air concerts and suppers at the belvedere. My
mother both played and sang. The harp, on
which she excelled, was her favourite instrument.
She gathered round her on these occasions all
that tin: place afforded of youthful musical talent
for the Prince's amusement. Alas! no true
Bonaparte was ever musical. Though a Murat
as well, I am no exception to the rule. For one
year, when 1 was twelve, an Italian prima donna
lost her time, and my father spent his money, but
no ction, could make me turn a tune. To this
day I am still incapable even of singing "Yankee
1 >oodle."
35
MY MEMOIRS
This belvedere was all that remained of Point
Breeze, as it was long before I knew it. The
house then stood on the height I have described,
and all around were thousands of beautiful trees,
reaching and touching each other over the drives
and pathways — ravines filled with dark, thick
foliage, sheltering the hillside. By the careless
act of a guest, who started for Philadelphia leaving
his room locked and a large wood fire on the
hearth, this magnificent dwelling was burnt to
the ground. Something in the room caught fire,
and dense clouds of smoke, rising in columns
above the house, first gave the alarm. The delay
in gaining entrance to the room and, no doubt, the
want of engines and ready means of extinguishing
the flames, quite unknown in those days, caused
the entire destruction of the building. Only a few
pictures of price and other valuable heirlooms
were saved.
The Count built the "new house," the one I
remember, in the lower part of the park, nearer
and facing the Trenton road, which ran through
part of the Point Breeze grounds. The stables,
which occupied this spot, were used to form the
body of the new building, from which a long
underground passage ran to the boat-house,
constructed on the eastern bank of the lake.
Adolphe Maillard was the handsome son of
the Count's secretary, who married a Miss Ward.
He brought her to Bordentown, to a house at the
36
EXILES IN THE UNITED STATES
end i town and just at the top of the hill
ling to Point. Bre< Her arrival created
quite nsation among the Bordentonians. She
was tall, elegant, well dressed, and had a pretty
When first I saw her I was struck by her
appearai ind have never >tten the im-
pression she made on my girlish fancy. I did not,
however, see much of them, but the house they
lived in was one 1 knew well, as it was occupied
r some time by the Spanish Minister, Don Pedro
Alcantara d'Argaiz, and his family, consisting of
two sons, and a daughter about my own a.
The eldest boy, Kmile Mouravega, was Mine.
d'Argaiz' son by a first marriage, and the younger,
(oseph, or l'epe as we called him, was quite a
child. My father and the Minister were intimate
friends, almost like brothers, and we lived quite
as one family ; so much so, that on the occasion of
the visit of old General Bertrand to America, th< y
came to our rescue in this way :
It must have been early in the 'forties— I can-
not say which year — probably 1S42 or 1843, tnat
the old General, who had been but a short time in
the United States, suddenly announced his inten-
tion to visit Bordentown to see my father, He
was preceded b\ some of his suite, who appeared
one fine morning in the most unexpected manner.
1 ought perhaps to remind my readers that Bert-
rand accompanied the Emperor Napoleon to St.
Helena, and, sharing his banishment, was his
37
MY MEMOIRS
dearest friend, confidant and intimate secretary.
He, as well as Mme. Bertrand, and his children,
remained with the Emperor to the last. General
Bertrand had the sad honour of accompanying
the Prince de Joinville to St. Helena, whence in
1840 he brought back to France the remains of
Napoleon. Too long, alas ! had his ashes rested
on English soil! General Bertrand, born in 1773,
must have been, when I remember him, about
seventy years of age. His health was greatly
impaired, and the information was given us that
he never ate anything but fish. Every course
throughout the dinner was to be of different kinds
of fish. Great was the consternation of the house-
hold. What was to be done ? The famous shad
of the Delaware was all we had at our disposal.
Our neighbours, the d'Argaiz, were only more
fortunate inasmuch as their French chef, a treasure,
was able to procure some rock-fish, and with these
two inhabitants of the waters, he made a splendid
feast of several courses, so admirably disguised
in their different aspects, that the bill of fare
offered a varied list of ingenious names to tempt
the appetite, and the dinner was a great success.
At least, so we were told, my young friends and
myself, who were allowed to peep at the great
man unseen. The General and his suite left on
the following day. In 1844 we heard of his death
at Chateauroux. He was buried at the Invalides ;
in death as in life faithful to the hero he had served.
38
EXILES IN THE UNITED STATES
Monsieur d'Argaiz, who dth was in a
very prei irious state, v. to resign his
post and return to 5] .in, where I me
time later. Christine, his hter, married a
Mr. Foui md after her marri we n<
met; but Ion trs aft r, Emile, who was ap-
- cretary of Legation at Vienna, spent a
few days at Paris 1 joining his post. It was
a great pleasure to meet once again, and .
thoroughly enjoyed a Ion it the Avenue
Montaigne. Many were the reiterated promises
to correspond and not lose sight of each other.
He sent me a long letter on arriving at Vienna,
beautifully written on gilt-< iper and per-
fumed with vi I have it still — but alas ! for
broken promises, we never wrote a second time.
Where is he now? Chi lo sa ! Paris life left
little time f< >r th lUgTit.
In 1870, when, after our disasters, we took
refuge in England, I found my old friend [oseph
d'Argaiz Secretary to the Spanish Legation in
London.
Among other persons familiar to my early
recollection . Billy Vanderbilt stands prominent;
a tall, slim, shy, sandy-haired youth as I knew
him. His father, Cornelius Vanderbilt, was then
beginning the great fortune which has brought
his name so prominently before the English world
of finance and ty. And I must not forget an
old commodore— Commodore Stewart. 1 often
MY MEMOIRS
saw him, a good-natured, good-humoured, real
sailor face, and most kind to children. He lived
in a nice old country house overlooking the Dela-
ware and surrounded — almost closed in — by high
silver pines. I read some years ago, I think in an
American magazine, that "he had sailed for the
unknown Port at the advanced age of ninety-one."
Yet another person comes before my mind,
the family physician, Doctor Cook, who brought
me into the world. He was a very ugly man with
a game leg. It was said that I was so slow in
making my appearance that he was quite over-
come, and when at last he held me in his arms
he fainted away.
Mr. Edwin Stevens, the great railway con-
tractor in the days when railways were in their
infancy, had a pretty place not far from the
river. He had no children, but a sweet wife,
so gentle and loving. She endeared herself to
all around, rich and poor. Mr. Stevens' peach
orchards, which extended for miles away, were
renowned, and his great pride was to show
them.
The summer of which I am writing, 1846,
was a glorious one, the nights surpassing the
days in loveliness. We begged for an open-air
ball in honour of Prince Joseph. Mr. Stevens,
whose hospitality was unlimited, was always
ready to add to our pleasures and amusements.
He decided to give a Peach Dance. He had
40
EXILES IN THE UNITED STATES
the orchards brilliantly illuminated, garlands of
lanterns hung from tree to tree, lighting up the
beautiful fruit with which the bram were
laden. At the nearest end of the orchards, tv
immense tents spread their win with
parquet floor prepared for dancing, the other
with tabh r supper, where every luxury
abounded, from canva k, terrapins and blue-
points, to pine-apples, jellies and i< We
danced till the sun was high up in the ski<
throwing a mellow light over all things. Long
was the Peach Dance remembered and talked
of! I was Queen of the fite. It was my first
big' dance, in the first year of my "teens," and
I had two devoted dancers in Prince Joseph
and I [amilton Beckett.
Mr. Beckett, belonging to an old English
family, lived quite near us on the outskirts of
the town. lie was a wealthy man, with only
one son, by his first wife. His second wife was
almost an invalid, with shattered nerves and
broken health. They occupied a large red-brick
house with extensive gardens, beautiful old trees
and shaded walks, lawns and pastur His
II milton Beckett, and I were great friends,
brought together from our earliest years 1>\ the
friendship of our fathers. He was several years
ler than myself, and spent a great part ^\ the
year in England with a maiden aunt for the
benefit of his education. When he was at home
4'
MY MEMOIRS
in Bordentown, we were never apart. We had
grown up to a kind of boy and girl flirtation.
The advent of Prince Joseph had perhaps blown
Hamilton's slumbering affection into a sudden
flame ; I am not quite sure. But certain it is
that when he was forced again to return to
England, in the sad parting hour, as he said
good-bye, he slipped his mother's betrothal ring
with its half-hoop of magnificent pearls on my
finger and bade me wear it till he could claim
his bride. He left me. Our destinies strayed
far apart. He left me scarcely more than a
child — on an autumn evening in 1846, standing
under the linden trees. When next we met,
years had passed. It was in a London drawing-
room in 1857. We both were married. His
wife, who was a daughter of Lord Chancellor
Lyndhurst, stood beside him. The gong sounded
for luncheon. I was seated by his side, for he
was host ; white powdered footmen glided round
us ; we talked of early days, of our last chestnut
feast in the woods of Point Breeze, sighed over
some fondly remembered spot, laughed at an
old joke. I heard from him that Point Breeze
had been sold ; the house and private park
bought by his father, the rest of the grounds
sold for speculation. A grove of villas had
sprung up where once the giant oaks and
sycamores held their sway.
The winter of 1846-7 was a severe one.
42
EXILES IX THE UNITED STATES
I. mg icicles hung suspended from housetop and
tree, glittering in the sunshine as if studded with
diamonds, th ind white with two or thr<
incl iw, frozen hard. The sleigh bells
filled the air with their jingle, the merry occupants
of th ;hs muffled in furs, and lull of mirth and
fun, kept up a noise in harmony. I was one among
them, but neither th'- fresh crisp brightness <»l the
scene n<>r th': gay laughter ol those around me
tld chase away my gloomy mood. The ring
had been sent back. My mother raised her
shoulders and shook her head at the absurdity of
such an engagement. Thus my first love was
crushed. So young in lite, I lost an illusion — and
I was des< 'ha-'.
Weeks rolled on — the cold continued intense.
The Delaware was completely frozen. The traffic
from Camden to Philadelphia by ferry was inter-
rupted. I was going to stay with some i
friends of my mother to whom I often went on a
visit. We drove in our sleigh across the river,
running and sliding instead of driving part of the
way. < >ur friends lived in Chestnut Street No. 2,
Boston Row. They were a [ewish family — a
dear old maiden lad)', her two brothers and a
niece. Miss Moses, or rather "Aunt Becky," as
we always called her, had lived in Scotland. She
was the heroine of Sir Walter Scott's Rebecca in
Ivanhoe. She had still a very beautiful face, a
most perfect type of the Jewish beauty. Her
MY MEMOIRS
form and figure, cast in nature's happiest mould,
few could rival. She was kindness itself, and I
enjoyed being with her.
Nothing of interest occurred during my visit,
unless it was spending an evening at Mrs. Butler's
(Fanny Kemble) and hearing her read one of
Shakespeare's plays. Her rendering of it was so
marvellous that, young as I was, it made a great
impression on me which I have never forgotten.
Fanny Kemble had gone to America with her
father in 1832. She married Pierce Butler, a
southern planter, in 1834.
My visits to Philadelphia were always asso-
ciated with the dentist ; so they left no very
pleasant memories. My mother had a mania
about our teeth. Unfortunately my mouth was
too small for my thirty-two grinders ; I was
periodically taken to Mr. Tovvnsend, a neat, clean-
looking little man in a white linen jacket. His
voice saying, " Yes, this one, this one, this one
and this one, must all be sacrificed to make
room," still rings in my ears, and the horror I felt
as I listened is among my most vivid recollections.
I must skip 1847, a dull, weary, uninteresting
year of waiting and longing and hoping for the
unknown future. One thing I may relate. In
the summer of this year I was allowed to pay a
visit to Mr. Stevens at his villa at Hoboken, near
Brooklyn. His wife was dead. Some cousins, the
Connovers, were staying with him. Two of the
44
EXILES IX THE UNITED STAT1 S
Conm girls were my dearest, I might almost
my only, girl frien My brother, eighteen
months younger than myself, was at a private
tutor's in New York — -a kind old Frenchman,
Monsieur Peuguet, who was educating i few
boys with his own sons. He had two charm-
ing daughters, whose acquaintance I made, as
I was asked to stay a few days with my brother
on m)' way through New York. Of the boys
I knew several. My brother always brought
one or other ol his fellow-students home for
the holida) In one of these I was much
interested Charlie Wentworth — an English boy.
I liked him personally, and his story 1 thought
;ad and pathetic, not to say romantic. He
was brought over from En '.ami when quite a
little fellow, by a gentleman whose name I forget.
Arrangements were made to leave him with M.
Peuguet, a certain sum to be paid each year for
his education and maintenan For some years
the money was regularly paid ; then suddenly it
stopped. X" reason was given. No answer was
recei\ ed to the numerous letters sent to tin: person
who had deposited the hoy in New York, and
who had no doubt given a false name and address.
Years went on. M. Peuguet was kindness itself
o
to the boy, treating him as a son. I heard all
this and the fact that M. Peuguet knew nothing
more than the statement made by the person in
charge ol the child, viz. that he was the son of
45
MY MEMOIRS
a rich and titled English lady, who had family-
reasons for wishing the birth of her son to be kept
a secret for a time, and that the boy would be
claimed by his mother as soon as it was possible
to acknowledge him, as he was heir to a title and
large estates. When I left America, M. Peuguet,
I believe, knew no more than I have told, and
had no clue that could lead to the discovery of
the boy's parentage. Charlie at this time was
about sixteen years old. He was a dear boy, and
felt dreadfully his painful position. He was not
even sure that Wentworth was his name. I have
often wondered what has become of him. If
alive, he may read these lines. How strange it
would be !
The younger of M. Peuguet's daughters
married a Mr. Forli, a descendant of one of the
old Huguenot families of La Rochelle. They
lived in New York, but I met them once when
her husband brought her to make the acquaint-
ance of some members of his family residing in
the Charente Inferieure.
Of my mother's family I have said little,
perhaps because, with the exception of two sisters
— both old maids — and a cousin, I knew very
little. One sister died a few years after my birth,
the other, Aunt Jane, came to Paris and lived
with us till her death, an old woman of ninety-
one. Our cousin, George Crofts, often came
north and spent a portion of the year with us.
46
EXILES 1\ THE UNITED STATES
As a small child 1 .. -,. r\ fond of him, and,
indeed, had things turned out differently, I might
have been, as he always playfully called me, "the
r e oi his wilderne;
The Wilderness was a beautiful place he
owned in one of the Southern States -one of
those States which suffered the most in the disas-
trous American war of [861 2. 1 believe my
cousin was nearly ruined, as weir all those who
had large plantations and a number of slaves.
So 1 have never regretted that another and no
doubt a more beautiful " Rose' flourished at the
Wilderness.
-17
CHAPTER III
THE REVOLUTION OF 1 848 AND THE PRESIDENCY
Downfall of Louis Philippe — Our Removal to France — Voyage
to Havre — Escape from Fire — My First Impressions of
Paris — Prince Louis Napoleon — His candidature as Presi-
dent of the Republic — My first meeting with him — His
personal character — The Pavilion de Breteuil — The Princess
Mathilde — The Chateau de St. Gratien — The Prince and
Princess de Wagram — Nicolas Clary's foot — A Recollec-
tion of 1870
At last the trumpet sounded that called the exile
to his home again. The revolution of February
1848 came like a thunderbolt. The news of the
downfall of Louis Philippe seemed to us almost
too good to be true. It affected all our prospects
and we were " no longer contraband." My father
left immediately for France. All my dreams of
happiness were surely realized ! Visions of crowns
and thrones, grandeur and state, crowded on my
dizzy brain, not seen in the dim past but now
spread before me in a wide horizon, picturing
the future arising in golden splendour from the
cloud that so long obscured our destiny.
I knew this sheltered nook was not my per-
48
1 III I'KINi I Ml HAT.
THE REVOLUTION OF 1848
manent home though I had friends, some little
rts too; and many were the tears we
d, and fond the whispered words in the
hours of parting ! My elder brother w till with
his tutor in New York, and we spent some time
there, at Astor's Hotel, preparing for our voyage
to Europ
S in October [848 I bade adieu to America
tor ever, and sailed for Havre with my mother,
my younger sister Anna, and two brothers,
Joachim and Achille. The vessel was called the
.V. A as. We were tossed for twenty-seven
days on the seas, having some fine and some very
stormy weather. My mother had derided on a
sailing vessel in preference to a steamer, as with
maids and nurses and our worldly possessions we
were a large party and the expense was not so
Lt, while the ship would he less crowded than
one of Mr. Cunard's paddle ho, its.
1 only remember one incident of the voyage
worthy of note. I was dreadfully ill, and while
all the other passengers u^re able to be on deck.
playing ;^.im<-s or enjoying music, I was for
to lie down all day ; sometimes on deck, hut more
frequently below in a small ladies' cabin, where a
mattress was put on the floor. This was my bed
night and day. I had such a dislike of a stuffy
berth. It seemed those weary weeks would never
end as I lay there thinking a\m\ wishing the days
away. ( )ne evening, some little time alter the bell
d 49
MY MEMOIRS
had summoned us all to supper, I was lying trying
to read — the book was The Vale of Cedars. Sud-
denly I thought I saw a streak of light from under
the door of the cabin belonging to the second
mate across the alleyway. For a few moments I
watched, wondering what the light could be. As
I watched it got brighter. Springing up, for-
getting I felt both sick and giddy, I made my
way to the saloon to give the alarm. I knew the
ship must be on fire. Had it not so happened
that I was on the floor and noticed the light, no
one would have known that a forgotten candle
had set fire to some article of clothing, and we
should undoubtedly have been burnt to death,
though in mid-ocean, which at first thought seems
impossible. Soon all hands were at work to
extinguish the flames ; in a short time we were
out of danger and only suffered from the fright
and a slightly longer passage owing to some
damage done.
The St. Nicholas sailed into the port at Havre
one lovely morning, the last day of October. On
landing we made our way to the hotel, where
rooms had been retained for us, amid a bustle
and confusion of shouts and noise and din of
voices that sounded like the roll of distant
thunder. We only remained one night in the
town, leaving the next day for Paris. The only
thing I remember of Havre is a long street where
every other house seemed to me to be occupied
5°
THE REVOLUTION OF 1848
by a bird fancier. I of every description
hung from every window, and their merry litt
occupants filled the air with their mirth and
son. Poor little prisoners, brought from their
different countries and kept captive in a foreign
land! 1 can feel for and pity them now that my
life, like theirs, is caged on foreign soil, so far, and
so changed from the old days of sunny France!
Our journey to Paris was uneventful, and
writing at this distance of time I can only tell of
is I remember them. Impressions have-
many of them faded from my mind. Some struck
me too deeply to be effaced. Of these was my
first sight of the Seine — the beautiful river ot
which I had heard so often. Bornonthe borders
«»f the Delaware, I had never realized how small
and insignificant it would appear when compared
with the mighty stream I had left behind me.
We arrived in Paris at seven o'clock in the
evening, and drove to the Rue de Lille, in the
Faubourg St. Germain, where my father had taken
an apartment for us, just Opposite the military
barracks, and the first sound that caught my ear as
I left the carriage was that ol the drums beating
the retreat. Every one seemed to be in a state
of great agitation and everything under military
rule. The dull old street, with the duller houses,
looking like barracks with their great portes
and facades all alike, struck a chill to my
heart, which was increased tenfold when we
1 1 -• ^i
MY MEMOIRS
reached the first floor ; the rooms were certainly-
large and lofty, but bare ; the furniture scanty
and old-fashioned, not a picture on the walls, not
a carpet to be seen ; the floors polished like
mirrors, with a rug here and there. My room,
when reached, gave the finishing stroke to my
despair. Weary and disappointed, I felt more
inclined to sit down and cry than to dress for
dinner. The room looked out at the back, next
to the nurseries — the floor was paved in small red
brick tiles, varnished over to look like china.
The curtains and furniture were dark and dingy.
And this was Paris ! — the Paris of my dreams,
for which I had longed and hoped and prayed !
Days went by, all filled with people coming
and going, with business faces as long and ugly
as the rooms were gloomy. I felt so miserable,
so depressed, so unhappy. All this was such a
contrast to Point Breeze and the world I had
lived in, the life I had heretofore led, a free and
happy child, surrounded with every luxury, spoilt
and loved and flattered. I went out seldom
unless accompanied. It was not considered safe
at that time to be in the streets of Paris without
proper escort. Then my mother fell ill. She had
taken a severe chill, and for days and weeks we
saw no one but doctors and nurses. Sitting in
her darkened room with a book, I often could not
see to read. My principal amusement was to
crawl under the dressing-table which stood in the
52
THE REVOLUTION OF 1848
window, ami, through a crack in the closely
drawn curtains, watch the soldiers as they trot
past, carrying dispatches, or others slowly
patrolling the street two by two. Had I been
older, 1 doubt it" my life would have been
different. In these days of agitation and str
there really was nowhere to go, nothing to do.
Politics were the all-absorbing topic. M
salens, certainly all those of the noble faubourg,
had closed their doors after the famous days
called . [i urn de fuin. Paris trade
suffered considerably, and tl. ipkeeper world
regretted the fall of the house of Orleans.
My father had been elected Reprisentant du
P tuple by an immense majority in the Depart-
ment du Lot, the cradle of his family. The
representants received nine thousand francs per
year. I still have my father's silver medal, such
h reprisentant was given, with the date
upon it.
Prince Louis Napoleon, the future President
of the Republic, who was living in London, came
over to Paris and ottered himself to the electors.
He was returned by two or three departments
and took his seat in the Chamber, but only for
two days. Being accused of taking the position
as Pretender to the throne of France and annoyed
at the hostile attitude of the Executive Commission
then in power, the Prince returned to England,
where he remained till again called by the electors
53
MY MEMOIRS
in September of the same year when, urged by
his friends, he decided again to take his seat in
the Legislative Chamber.
The rooms the Prince occupied at the Hotel
du Rhin, Place Vendome, were on the ground
floor — a small bachelor suite ; he was accompanied
by M. de Persigny, his private secretary and
friend. His candidature as President of the
French Republic now seemed definitely settled.
His principal and rather serious opponent was
General de Cavaignac. With what success he
conquered his rival and the triumph with which he
was proclaimed belong to history. To describe
them would be too ambitious an enterprise for the
souvenirs of a girl just in her "teens," but I can
tell how proud I was the first time I was taken
to his rooms. The thought of seeing and speaking
to the " Prisoner of Ham," the hero of so many
adventures, filled my heart with rapture. Nor
were my romantic anticipations disappointed. My
youthful imagination saw in him another Napoleon,
destined to inaugurate a new era of glory and
splendour for France. Alas ! vain glory, cruel
splendour, so soon to be crushed and buried under
the shame and horrors of 1870!
On the tenth day of December, 1848, Prince
Louis Napoleon by an overpowering majority was
created President of the Republic. The Palace of
the Elys^e was to be his residence. This palace
at one time belonged to my grandfather, and with
54
THE REVOLUTION OF 1848
les Neurits d'Artois, Mont de Marsau, and the
beautiful chateau ol La Mothe Saint II
formed part of the Murat claims against the French
Government
Prince Louis Napoleon as President a
Emperor is too well known in England for me to
attempt to describe him. At all events not the
outward man. I may Speak of him as I knew him
in those early clays of his career, when although
heir to the great nam-- of Napoleon, a legend in
If, the Prince found systematic opp< i in all
the higher cl of society, who persisted in see-
ing in him only the adventurer of Strasburg and
Boulogne. Prince Louis Napoleon's smile was
deep and sad, giving one the feeling of great
kindness and gentlene His eyes l6oked far
away into the shadowy unseen. 1 [e spoke slowly
and softly, as if talking to himself and listening to
his own thoughts rather than to the voices around
him. lie had a firm will, yet at times was
yielding almost to weakness. I [e judged men
and made use of them, hut treated them with
slight consideration. Very reserved, he spoke
little, and held that in politics, as in war, your
greatest force lies in concealing your plans of
attack from the enemy. Alone, without allies or
money, he fought his battle. Alone, with the aid
ot his try .i\k\ friend, the Duke de Persigny,
whose devotion and intelligence in the service of
his master were worth)- of the highest praise,
55
MY MEMOIRS
The Duke de Persigny's real name was
Victor Failin, but this is unimportant, as he was
always known as de Persigny. He had entered
the French army in 1828, but was expelled for
insubordination in 1831. He won the favour of
Louis Napoleon and had the chief hand in the
affairs of Strasburg (1836) and Boulogne (1840)
where he was arrested and condemned to twenty
years' imprisonment. He strenuously supported
his patron in 1848 and 1851, and became Minister
of the Interior. From 1855 to i860 he was
ambassador to England, and he was a senator
until the fall of the Empire.
The President of the Republic, the Princess
Mathilde, her brother Prince Napoleon, Prince
Lucien Bonaparte, who lived and died in England,
and his brother Prince Pierre Bonaparte, were all
first cousins of my father's ; and according to an
old French custom the children of first cousins
give their elders the title of Uncle and Aunt.
This form of address is called la mode de
Bretagne to distinguish it from the ordinary
uncle and aunt. Of these relatives it was the
Princess Mathilde that I saw most. From the
time of our arrival in Paris she took a kindly
interest in me, and I spent most of my hours at
her mansion in the Rue de Courcelles.
On the 10th of December, day of the election,
Paris was in almost as excited a state as we were
ourselves. The vote was a national acclamation.
56
THE REVOLUTION OF L848
Out of seven and a halt" millions of votes recorded,
and a half millions were given in favour
ol Louis Napoleon. Cavaignac re< I barely a
million and a halt". Laic in the evening we were
told by some one coming from the Place Venddme
that the square was crowded with tin- people, some
of whom had collected quantities of voting paj
with Cavaignac's name on them to scatter at the
t ol the column, tokens of the humble homage
of the nation to the name of Napoleon.
Political antagonism frequently manifests itself
In a second generation. Many years later than
this [August [868], when General de Cavaignac's
son was a young collegian, he refused to accept
a prize from the hand of the Prince Imperial,
who was distributing the awards at the Lycde
Bonaparte to successful students in the General
Competition between the Public Schools. This
insult came as a severe blow to the Empress. It
was a blow to her pride : the first foreshadowing
of the disasters that were to com-'.
The winter of [848-9 left nothing very
remarkable in my mind, though it was my first
winter in Paris. After the election of the 10th
December, we left the Rue de Lille and moved
into a small house, lent to us by a friend of my
father's, situated in the Rue d'Anjou St. Honore.
Iler<- we were nearer tin- Rue de Courcelles,
where most ot my time was spent
The spring ()j 1 S49 brought the cholera with
57
MY MEMOIRS
it : one of the most violent epidemics I have
known. The mortality was very great. Paris
was in mourning. People crowded the stations,
all hurrying away from the plague-stricken city.
My father was unable to leave on account of his
duties at the Chamber, but I went with my mother
to the Pavilion de Breteuil — a sure refuge from
melancholy, if not from cholera.
The Pavilion de Breteuil, the summer residence
of the Princess Mathilde, was situated in the park
of St. Cloud, and formed part of this domain be-
longing to the State. It stood on the side of a hil^
near one of the gates of the park — the one leading
to the road called Route de Versailles, and immedi-
ately facing the old manufactory of Sevres. On
the other side, its pretty gardens ran sloping down
almost to the banks of the Seine.
The house, of no particular style, was a long
and rather low building, only one room deep, the
dining-room and library forming the two ends of
the house, their length running the depth, whilst
the drawing-room, boudoir and the Princess
Mathilde's chamber formed the middle, the great
dining-room opening into a large hall that ran
back of the boudoir and bedroom. At one end of
the hall a wide staircase led to the first floor.
A few yards from the house stood a building
which was turned into a studio, where most of
our day was spent, the Princess being devoted
to painting. After breakfast, usually at eleven
58
THE REVOLUTION OF 1848
o'clock, \'. 10k ourselves to the atelier. The
Princess painted: she was doing the head of .m
Italian model. I mte de Nieuwerkerki
Directeur du Musde d( Be lux Arts, who was a'
a sculptor of great merit, was modelling my bust.
Madame Desprez, one of the ladies of the hous<
hold, read aloud, and I can sec myself, as I write,
I erched on a high table, cramped and uncomfort-
able, yet afraid to move — almost afraid to breathe
— lest 1 should lose the pose. How glad I was
to hear the carriage wheels and the clock striking
three, telling me 1 was free till the morrow!
h day when weather allowed, we drove or
rode in the park or environs. I liked our long
drives to Versailles, or Ville d'Avray, or Marnes.
More often we went to Meudon, the residence of
Prince J^rdme, the Princess Mathilde's lather.
The woods of Meudon join those of Verrieresand
Clamart and are some of the prettiest in the
environs of Paris. Best of all, 1 loved my morn-
ing walks in the Bois de Boulogne, or more often
my rambles in the park of St. Cloud.
The Princess never made her appearance till
breakfast : we were allowed to spend our mornings
we liked. At seven o'clock, one of the maids
brought a cup of cafi au lait, drew back the heavy
curtains and opened my window to the soft mi tru-
ing air. My room overlooked the garden, and
from my window the view was .i mass of flowers
with the dark trees beyond. The perfumed air
59
MY MEMOIRS
seemed to invite me to sleep again, and so I was
often late for our run through the woods.
Madame Desprez, M. de Nieuwerkerke, myself,
and any guests staying at Breteuil formed the
joyous band that ventured forth at that early hour
in pursuit of pleasure. Days and weeks rolled on
thus — August melted into September, and soon
autumn tints gave the glorious colouring that
bronzes the vivid brightness of green summer.
St. Cloud was enfUe. It was the week of the
Great Fair, held in the public part of the park.
It was our pleasure on these occasions to mix
with the crowd. The organs grinding, drums
beating, flutes playing, women singing, children
shouting, men calling out their wares to sell — all
the confusion and discordant din delighted me.
Well I remember the booths filled with dolls,
gingerbread men and women, crackers and
clowns ; and the gipsy who told my fortune for
the piece of money with which I crossed her
hand ! How I longed for a ride in the merry-go-
round on horse or in boat ! How I longed to join
in the fun, often echoing the wish, " Ah ! if I
were only the daughter of a charcoal burner ! "
One morning in late October the Princess
Mathilde decided on driving to Enghien to visit
Mademoiselle de Courbonne, a very old friend,
who had taken a villa on the borders of the lake.
The drive was a long one. The Princess, M. de
Nieuwerkerke and myself, with barouche and
60
THE REVOLUTION OF L848
post horses, left Breteuil about nin k,
arriving .it Enghien just in time for a tweh
o'clock d6je\ ' urchette. After breakfast
we walked to the Chateau de St. Gratien, visited
the: chateau itself, and also a small pavilion just
on: grounds, which had at one tim
mged to the famous Nicolas Catinat. The
Princess was delighted with Enghien — so prettily
seated at the foot ol Montmorency, with the lake
and all its surroundings. She could talk of
nothing else during our journey home, and,
indeed, before we reached Breteuil, she had made-
up her mind that St. Gratien and Catinat's sunny
t should be her At St. Gratien, when it
became her property, she entertained a constant
succession ol friends throughout the whole
summer. It was her greatest joy thus to receive
and retain her guests.
I have written of Breteuil as I knew it for so
many years. What is it now? 1S70 left it a ruin
without rooi or windows- its walls ribbed with the
cannon balls of the enemy. I fancy the pavilion
has been restored, more lucky than the Chateau
ilc St. Cloud, still, in the middle of its pasture's, a
mass of ruins, throwing .1 sad gloom over wh.it
was once one of the gayest and brightest scenes
ot the country round Paris.
The autumn found us once more in the Rue
d'Anjou. My mother was still in very delicate
health, not able to bear fatigue of any kind, so
01
MY MEMOIRS
that, except when staying with friends at country
houses, I was taken out entirely by the Princess
Mathilde. The first week in November we spent
at Grosbois, the seat of Prince de Wagram, to
fete the St. Hubert and the St. Charles, 3rd and 4th
of November, in hunting with the famous hounds.
It was a very cold month of November. The
room I occupied was large and lofty. The wood
fire, with huge smoky logs, threw out no flame
and no warmth. The furniture was old-fashioned,
and to me uncanny. The cold gloom of the
room depressed me ; I felt chilled, morally and
physically. To add to my discomfort the maid
had forgotten to supply me with matches, and in
this well-regulated establishment, by the Princess
de Wagram's orders, nothing forgotten to be
asked for in the morning could be had after
twelve o'clock. I had to borrow the needful from
a neighbouring room, and somehow I got into
my evening dress. Suddenly I found myself
conveyed by somebody into a long dining-room
with a thousand lights, a table glittering with
gold and silver, and a dozen servants standing
round, some in the gorgeous Wagram liveries,
others in black silk stockings and knee breeches
with ribbon bows. For a moment I was dazzled
by the splendour of it all, but I soon recovered,
and found myself chatting gaily to the men on
either side of me. This was my first day at
Grosbois.
62
THE REVOLUTION OF 1848
The Princess de Waerram was a Mademoiselle
:v. She v. irt, inclin be stout, with
a pleasant t lark hair, and small dark c\
like two big jet beads. Such she appeared to me
when I first saw her with her baby girl in her
arms. She had two other children, a daughti
months older than myself, and a son a year
<>r two younger. Prino Wagram was very
fair, tall, with rather a German face. His son,
Prince Alexander, was dark, like his mother and
all the Clarys, but the girls in face and form were
absolute Wagrams, or rather, I should say,
Berthiers, for Berthier is the family name.
Malcy, the eldest, who was destined to become
my sister-in-law, always objected to being called
anything but " Mam'selle Berthier," as she play-
fully called herself.
The Prince was not a courtier or a ^reat
favourite at the Elysee, though on friendly terms
with the Prince President. He had sympathies
with the Royalists, many of whom were intimate
friends and relations, such as the de Mailles, who,
like many others, never rallied to the Empire.
Princess de Wagram's three brothers were my
father's most intimate friends, the youngest,
Nicolas, more ially. lie lived in the Rue
d'Anjou, quite near us, such a pretty bachelor
idence, entre cour et jardin. The house was
furnished with all the luxury that great wealth
could give, and with all the taste of an artist.
"3
MY MEMOIRS
Pictures of old masters covered the walls — some
of Greuze's heads were my delight. Baron Clary
had bought two of these from the widow of my
father's elder brother. Two heads of children —
one, such a lovely face, was " Terror," the other,
with golden locks, " Joy," both beautiful. Nicolas
Clary was very proud of his pictures, his house,
his garden, and his foot — the smallest foot, I sup-
pose, a man ever had. He boasted one day that
he could wear my shoe, which was not a very
large one. We had a bet. He certainly put it
on and walked about the room : he won his bet,
but I doubt if he could have worn my shoe all
day. The garden, a very large one for the centre
of Paris, ran back to the Rue Romford, a street
now long disappeared. Like many others, it
made way in later years for Baron Ilaussmann's
improvements. The Boulevard Haussmann was
cut right through this part of Paris, sweeping
everything that came in its way, and taking a
slice of Baron Clary's garden, for which the Ville
de Paris, at the decision of the Prefect de la Seine
and the Municipal Council, offered him a very
poor remuneration. The little man's anger knew
no bounds.
In 1848, when Prince Louis Napoleon came
from England with small resources to fight the
great battle for the Napoleon dynasty, Clary
proved himself a friend indeed. He was one of
the very few willing to risk fortune as well as
64
THE REVOLUTION OF L848
leisure in the int of the cau lie lent .a
different time of money
the l'rin In the day ry, then, when at
List, after the sharp Strug the Prince w
elected Pn it, Clary was no stranger, and
was able years after to d M. Haussmann by
laying his claim before tin- Emperor; with the
success that an ample compensation was made
to him for i ver) foot of ground taken. But the
boulevard had to run its cours ro change the
plans would have been next to impossible.
September 4, iyoi.
My pen has been silent tor some days ; some-
times— I cannot tell why — I cannot write, I cannot
think, I cannot remember, I cannot put two ideas
together.
The ill-fated date at the top <>f my page brii
back only too vividly all my recollections, and I
must pause in the narration of the past to write
of a nearer past. The 4th of September, 1S70 —
how can I tell t: mories, the painful
elings, that overwhelm me? — a date, only a date,
and it all comes back to me as if it were yesterday.
The new.-, of the battle of Sedan, the sleepless
nights, King all dressed on our beds: the sudd
order to fly, brought by an estafette from the
Tuileries at four o'clock in the morning: the last
good bye to all we loved : the drive a Paris
tot. uch the morning express: the rushing train
1 65
MY MEMOIRS
carrying us on, on, far away from Paris, friends,
glory, fortune, rank — the steamer that waited to
bear us once more into exile : the clasping of
hands that might meet no more and, last, one long
and lingering glance of adieu to France as the
steamer sped on its way. The picture is before
me as I write. I am no hypocrite, I wish I
were : I would pretend, as some of us do, that I
love England. No. I am grateful to England
for the home it has given me, for the children
that have blessed me. I admire England as a
nation ; but the more I am forced to admire, the
less I love it. No one who really loves France
could honestly say he is devoted to the English.
The few friends I have had the good fortune to
make here in England are very dear to me, and I
trust they and all who read these lines may under-
stand and forgive me when I add that not one
day, not one hour, for twenty-five years have I
ceased to regret, to love, and long for my country.
Why have I remained in England all these years?
Those who care to know must have patience with
me and follow me through these pages to the end
of my story. I will take up my life to-morrow
where I left it a few days since — I have no heart
for it to-day.
66
I HAPTER IV
DAME DES Ai .
Princess Mathilde — Mj is sent as Ambassador to Italy
— I take ' Giraud
Courcelles — Prin e Demidoff -The Princess and her
friends — Madame de Solms
One of our quiet evenings at the Rue de
Courcelles comes back to my mind. The
Princess Mathilde in her particular arm-chair n
the fire with two or thre ■ of the great wits of tl
tim<- around her, amusing her with their brilliant
ition ; the old Baronne de Rediny, who
had been with the Princess .since her school-da)
knitting in a corner half asleep, waking new and
then with a start as a laugh or a loud voice
roused her; Comte d ■ Nieuwerkerke, seated at a
long table which ran along one end of the room,
drawing a monogram and design for a pie
"t embroidery; Giraud, tl . ll-known pastel
painter, near him and working with him in the
sketch they wei th attempting; near them
Ari; sharp, so witty, and so amusing, was
composing odds and ends of rhymes, taking off
all around him and keeping up at the same time
(l7
MY MEMOIRS
lively repartees with Madame Desprez and the
Ratoniskis, two Polish friends of the Princess —
man and wife ; and last, myself and my fifteen
summers on a stool at the Princess's feet, listen-
ing, wondering and admiring, with all the
enthusiasm, all the sauvagerie of my nature. It
must have been on such an evening that I was
described, by one of those vicious-tongued wits
who never open their mouth without taking a
piece out of some one, as looking like " a turkey
swallowing walnuts."
The winter of 1849 my father was sent as
Ambassador to Italy, where he remained till late
in the spring of 1850. I am under the impression
that, being Pretender to the throne of Naples, he
found his position rather a difficult one at Turin,
and he asked to be recalled, although the King,
Victor Emmanuel, treated him with marked favour,
as did Azeglio, the then Premier at the Court of
Sardinia ; but this special favour created great
jealousies among the representatives of other
Powers.
During my father's absence from Paris, my
mother only attended the official receptions and
the dinners and soirees tres intimes at the Elysee.
To these I accompanied her, but with this excep-
tion I went with the Princess Mathilde every-
where and spent my days at her house. We
generally passed our mornings in her studio, a
delightful room on the first floor, leading out of
68
NOTRE DAME DES AIMS
her boudoir, a room partly atelier partly winter
irden. I w is learning to draw, and Giraud was
giving me le; His despair was comic, fori
in.nl- in- progress, notwithstanding all his efforts.
My drawing, like my singing, proved a failure.
Indeed, I was no -cuius, and my only talent, if
talent it can be called, was in dancin In this I
think I may say I excell< I. The Princess was
inting my portrait— she fancied painting me
as a nun. TIk- i try costume was procured ;
all around me 1 that it suited me to perfec-
m. In truth it did, although I never realized it
.it the time: 1 have sin The head-dress of the
nun's me completely hid the worst feature in
my face — a very ugly double chin. The portrait
i finished, beautifully done and very like. It
was presented to some one. I never knew
whom.
Princess Mathilde's evening receptions were
of the very few remaining of the kind which in
old days— far older days than those of which I am
writing were termed "salons." No salon such
as I speak ot exists in this fin de sicclc. \\ e
must live with our times: chivalry, gallantry,
sentiment, powder and i are things ot the
p.ist. The perfect deference and respect ot
speech and manner that characterized another
generation would be out of place in the.se days ol
pr< >gress when w< >men ride 1 >icycles, make speeches
to crowded assemblies, take long drinks, smoke
69
MY MEMOIRS
their cigarettes, and are anything and everything
but womanly.
The Princess received in the old-fashioned
way, with all the grace and charm that so particu-
larly belong to her. She was at home to all her
friends every evening, and was surrounded by all
the literary and artistic world who had any claim
to merit. She was often called by her favourites
by the pretty name of Notre Dame des Arts, and
so much did she win the loyalty of her friends
that they were referred to as being, not Bona-
partists, but Matildians. Her manners, so simple
and unaffected, so full of youth and happiness
and sympathy, threw a magnetic influence on all
around her. My girlhood's love for her was
almost worship. Many of the happiest hours of
my life were spent in the Rue de Courcelles.
Dignified as Imperial Highness, the niece of
two emperors, and the cousin of a third, she had
more illustrious family connections than the Em-
peror himself, and she had the ambition and the
faculty to rule. She must have been uncommonly
beautiful in her young womanhood ; she was still
very handsome when I knew her first, and she
always remained a woman of distinguished pres-
ence. Unquestionably she was the most cultured
and talented of all the Bonapartes ; and she was
probably one of the most cultured women in
France during her time. Her salon was a court
in itself. Begun during the reign of Louis
70
NOTRE DAME DES ARTS
I it had no equal iii the nineteenth
century for length ol .For fifty years
it v. n important institution, the home and
centre of Parisian intell tamped with her own
strongly- marked individuality. Her great wealth
enabled her to entertain lavishly, and it was her
ire to extend unlimited hospitality, and t<>
make her home the meeting pi I the choice
spirits oi the day.
I h i\ id that she was the niece of
two Emperors. These were Napoleon 1 and
Nicholas I. 1 during her lifetime Fate placed
two crowns within her reach, yet never allowed
her to wear one. She did not regret the
irony. In her independence ol character and
inality, she was satisfied with her rdle as
patron of the Arts. During her youth she spent
much of her time in the Court of Wurtemberg,
under the tutelage of that admirable woman
Queen Catherine. She was a favourite ol Queen
Hortense, whose hospitality she enjoyed at the
Castle ol Arenenberg, and who looked forward to
a marriage between Princess Mathilde and her
own son Louis Napoleon. In the opinion of
many it was a misfortune tor France that this
ambition on the part of Queen Hortense u.is not
fulfilled. But while Louis Napoleon was lan-
guishing in the fortress of Mam, a "prisoner for
life," Princess Mathilde in her sunny youth in
Tuscany, with her chirms ol mind and person,
MY MEMOIRS
attracted many suitors. Among them was the
heir of the wealthy Marquis Aquado, who prof-
fered tens of millions if his son should succeed in
winning the favour of the niece of the great
Napoleon. Young Aquado was not successful.
Refused by Princess Mathilde, he transferred his
attentions to the beautiful Eugenie de Montijo,
and lived to shed tears when he learned that
Louis Napoleon had crossed his path.
Whatever might have been her feelings
towards Count Aquado, the Princess Mathilde
had already manifested her preference. She had
Russian sympathies, and her girlish fancy had
been caught by the strikingly handsome person-
ality of the son of the Russian Ambassador to
Rome and Florence. Count Anatole Nicolaie-
wich Demidoff, Tuscan Prince di San Donato,
had other recommendations than his rank and his
handsome figure. He was heir to the fabulous
wealth of the mines of Ural ; he had natural
talent, a pretty taste in literature, an appreciation
of art, and there is no doubt that he was deeply
in love. Their betrothal had the sanction of the
Emperor Nicholas, and their marriage took place
in Florence on the ist of November, 1840.
The union was not a happy one. Prince
Demidoff, who was himself something of a Don
Juan, was afflicted with an extremely jealous
disposition, and he treated her with great cruelty.
The painful position came to a crisis in the
72
NOTRE DAME DES ARTS
eption-rooms of th I lato P il u e, the
ene of a brilliant gathering, when he suddenly,
in a fit of savage and unreasonable jeal >usy, str de
up to his j ; wife and slapped her on both
checks in a manner so truly < i i publicly
insulting, that forgi\ was imj !c. The
Princess hastened to her uncle in St. Petersburg.
The Emperor Nicholas insisted upon the inevit
iration, and Demidoff, whose income was
then ,£90,000 a year, was ordered to pay his
wife ,£8,000 annually, and to abstain from going
anywhere within a hundred miles of where she
might I>e staying.
This jointure, added to her private means,
which were considerable, and her annual allow-
ance of £"20,000 from the French Civil List,
enabled her to support many charities with her
bounty, to keep up a luxurious household, and
extend her hospitalities with a lavish hand.
Personally she was well equipped as a leader
of intellectual ety. Her ability as a painter
was far beyond that of an amateur, and her criti-
cisms on art subjects were always searching and
lull oi knowledge. Her collections of pictures
and sculptures gave evidence of her cultured
te. Her private library was one of the I
of its kind in Paris. Without being obtrusive or
dictatorial, she shone in conversation, and her
opinions on .ill subjects v. re always listened to
with n pect. Many are the witt) sayings, the
i i
MY MEMOIRS
amusing anecdotes, which every one who knew
her remembers and associates with her name.
One subject the Princess banished — politics. In-
deed, no politician, as such, found favour in her
eyes. It was not till after, or about, the year
1852 that of necessity her receptions became
partly political.
Although she was at home to her friends
every evening, her companions differed in type
with the days of the week. Sundays she reserved
for current invitations and new introductions.
Tuesdays were set aside for the reception of
official personages, and Wednesdays for her
chosen intimates, who were always exclusively
artists. The Sunday soirees at the Rue de
Courcelles were especially popular, attended by
crowds of distinguished men and women, whose
names remain familiar to a later generation. If I
were asked to mention all those whom I saw at
her house I should have to enumerate more than
half of the celebrities in literature, science, paint-
ing, sculpture, and music in the days of the
Empire. But I am neither a Goncourt nor a Viel-
Castel, and I must refer my readers to their more
ample chronicles.
The large salon de conversation, whose walls
were hung with choice examples of ancient and
modern paintings, was always the most densely
thronged. Princess Mathilde found little satis-
faction in frivolous dissipation and the empty
74
NOTRE DAME DES ARTS
hion. Sh tion
to all other pleasun Her customary plac<
at th< fire-place, where sh it with
one of her favourite on her lap or with
myself at her feet. Here she would i -.<• in a
neral discussion with a group of such brilliant
talkei Edmund About, Octave Feuillet,
Flaubert, Taine, Alp! Daudet, and Parbey
d'Aurevilly, who were all of her circle, .1^ were
Alexandre Dumas and Victor Hugo. She was
fond rcisiiv- her skill in argument with snch
thinkers as Ernest Kenan and Monsieur Caro,
who gave her nblies a tincture of philosophy.
Throphile Gautii r received the Princess's warm-
est friendship. The Goncourt Sainte Beuve,
and Prosper Merinne were frequently to be
heard joining in the sparkling talk on Sunda)
/enings ; and on Wednesdays one was sure to
find among the company of her artist friends
such men as Hubert, Giraud, Corot, Baudry,
Fromentin, or Arry Scheffer. Always, on what-
er nigfht, there . ithering of men and
women of intellect — idealists, apostles of aestheti-
m— each contributing his own personal note »>i
sincerity, mtiment.
Princess Mathilde encouraged general con-
is ition rather than tUe-a-tite interviews, hut
often of necessity the crowded gathering would
he divided into many groups. After a pause at
the end ol a elis n or anecdote, or while the
75
MY MEMOIRS
laughter lingered after a smart repartee or flash
of wit, she would rise and pass through the
various rooms, and whenever she broke in upon
a conversation it was always with a shaft of
sparkling wit or happy comment. In blending
the congenial elements she was greatly assisted
by her recognized lover, Count de Nieuwerkerke,
superintendent of Fine Arts under the Empire,
tall, bearded, handsome, who acted as a kind of
master of ceremonies.
One afternoon the Princess was receiving in
the drawing-room when her favourite Italian
greyhound curvetted up to her for her caress.
The pretty dog was gently rebuked, but on
making a second attempt was scolded more
warmly. Some one interceded. "No, no!"
said the Princess, " Chance is in disgrace to-
day. All through the night she kept me awake
by jumping on my bed." She had hardly spoken
when Count Nieuwerkerke entered the room.
The greyhound, greeting him, was reprimanded.
"Go away, you naughty dog. Thanks to you, I
never got a wink of sleep last night. How dare
you jump on people's beds ! " The guests ex-
changed meaning glances. Doubtless they were
engaged in making the natural inference.
Her guests as a rule were carefully chosen to
harmonize. They were guests whom every one
was proud to meet ; every one, that is to say,
excepting Count Horace de Viel-Castel. But
76
NOTRE DAME DES ARTS
Viel-Castel was a bitter-tongued cynic, whom
nothing could wholly satisfy. He disliked
Giraud, he disliked the Dumas; he obje
to the A I-! i au ; the sight of Count
Laborde inspired him with insensate fury, and
he hated Madame Desprez like the plague, and
called her "a disgrace to her sex' 1 ause she
wanted to peep into the contents of his Black
B >k.
I seem to have ignored that women took
more than a listening part in these conversations.
There were many who added brilliance to the
play oi wit. The Princess de Metternich was
conspicuous. Madame Sardou was another, and
I should not forget the Countess de Pourtales.
the Marquise de Contades, the Countess de
ulaincourt, Countess Walewska, the three
sisters la Roche- Lambert,1 or the Countess Le
Hon. It is true, however, that the salon de
ation was more usually thronged with
men than women. Perhaps this was because
so few women, apart from those I have men-
tioned, were at that time sincerely interested in
art, in culture, and in new literary developments.
"Amongst the many women one meets or re-
ceives,' the Princess objected on one occasion,
"how few there are with whom one can really
convei It a woman were to come in now, 1
1 These three- sisters were the Countess de la Be'doyere,
Countess de li Poeze, and Madame de Valon.
77
MY MEMOIRS
should have to change the subject of conversation
at once."
It followed that while her men guests were
mostly to be sought in the groups of talkers, the
women overflowed the music-rooms. " What I
love best about music is the women who listen
to it," I overheard Jules de Goncourt remark
once, as he stood under a palm by the door of
the music-room. And he expressed the feeling
of many of his sex.
Those who had a preference for music passed
on through other rooms to the semi-circular salon,
where they might listen to the vocal virtuosities
of Adelina Patti, or to Christine Nilsson singing
some dreamy song of Sweden, to Miolau-Carvalho
repeating an air from The Huguenots, or Gardoni
interpreting the melodies of Verdi. That gifted
amateur, Madame Conneau, might be heard sing-
ing " Son vergine vezzosa," or the Princess's
orchestra, directed by M. Sauzay, would dis-
course their instrumental music. Occasionally
Strauss himself would contribute to the enter-
tainment, and more than once the Abbe Liszt
came with the Comtesse d'Agoult, who claimed
literary recognition. Marie de Flavigny, Comtesse
d'Agoult, is perhaps better known by her literary
pseudonym of " Daniel Stern " and her authorship
of Esquisses Morales. She was born in Frankfurt,
1805, and married the Comte d'Agoult in 1827,
but soon left him for Liszt, by whom she had
78
NOTRE DAME DES AIM'S
three daughtei The eldest of these married
Emile Ollivier, th I sister married the
Mar [uis < iuy unl tl
Cosima, was in turn the wife ■ i Hans von
1 1 ilow and Richard Wagner.
(| Lsionally the music salon was converted
into .t theatre, and some comedy, since be
well known some two-part trifle by I I ive
Feuillet or Theodore de Banville- would be
enacted to give opportunity to Coquelin to dis-
play his marvellous gifts of chara ition.
These theatrical evenings were memorable.
The Princess Mathilde had her imitatoi . ol
course. Princess de Metternich had a separate
salon ol her own, and also dabbled in art when
she had a moment's leisure from her more lively
occupations. Madame de Pourtale's held re
ptions, Comt ; Beaumont occupied herseli
seriously with literature and had a literary salon.
Madame de Solms painted miniatures in the
intervals of writing her romances, hi- and
maga/ine articles, and the M irquise de Contades
and, afterwards, even the Empress herself sought
to gain s< ime reputati< in tor skill in transferring their
ideas to canvas or presenting portraits in pastel.
Of these, Madame de Solms was the most
flattering ol imitators. She was also known as
Madame de Rute, and better still as Madame
Rattazzi ; but I knew her before she had con-
tused her identity in a multiplicity of names. 1
7"
MY MEMOIRS
saw her for the first time at a ball at the Hotel
de Ville. She was a very favourite niece of
Prince Lucien Bonaparte, who lived so long in
England that he became almost an Englishman.
Prince Lucien, by the way, was devoted to Queen
Victoria, who was always most gracious to him.
He had not the right to be addressed as Imperial
Highness, this title being reserved to those in
direct succession to the throne ; but he always
said after the downfall of the Empire that he was
Imperial Highness by the courtesy of the Queen
of England, who addressed him so when writing
to him.
Madame de Solms was a very beautiful
woman — bearing some resemblance to the
Princesses of the First Empire — her mother being
the daughter of the Emperor Napoleon's brother
Lucien. She married a Mr. Wyse, and her
children have always called themselves Bonaparte-
Wyse. Why ? They could have no possible
right to the name. She was not only beautiful,
but very clever, a very highly-educated scholar
(as were all that branch of the Bonapartes) and
bubbling over with the ready, sparkling wit
that flows like champagne in France. She was
slightly deaf — even in those early years of which
I speak — the first years of the Second Empire.
The ball was at its height when she passed me —
a perfect picture — leaning on the arm of her
uncle Prince Lucien, who was with her during
one of his short stays in Paris.
80
NOTRE DAME DES AIM'S
She was in her way a verj wonderful woman,
and her i ireer was a varied one. She contrived
to dispose of three husbands of different national
iti< I »unt Frederick Solms, who was a German ;
Urbano Rattazzi, the eminent Italian - man;
and ultimately Senor Luis de Rute, ex-Secretary
of State in Spain. She offended the Emperor 1>\
the publication of her book, Les Mariages dune
( r/<Vc\ in which slit- seriously libelled M. Schneid( r
the it iron-master and Walewski's successor
at the Chamber. She made an enemy of the
Empn is, dabbled too dangerously in politics, and
Id a literary and political salon to which many
persons not in favour at Court were admitted. In
these and other ways, her conduct displeased their
Majesties; so much so that she was exiled from
I'. iris and struck off the Emperor's list of annuitants
with the loss of ,£2,000 a year. At one time
Madame de S< '1ms d< clared her ambition to become
the Mad une de Stael of the Second Empire, but
it was in vain that she piled up volumes oi history,
poetry, romance, travel, and politics. Few ol her
literary productions were read; and I suspect all
are forgotten. Nevertheless, her talents were
considerable and versatile. While editing the
Nouvelle Revue Internationale she was acting in
plays written by herself and adding to her
reputation as an accomplished musician. She
rivalled Madame de Mirbel in the delicate art of
miniature painting, and her admirers went so tar
as to say that she would have equalled Meissonier
F 8l
MY MEMOIRS
himself in genre painting had she chosen to exert
herself.
Before she committed the offences which led to
her dismissal from the Court, the Emperor once
said of her: " My pretty cousin is the perfection of
all the virtues. She has them all — the good and
the bad," and he added, " She plays charmingly
with the fan, but also, unfortunately, with the pen.
It is pardonable that she commits herself to poetry,
but she is also getting herself talked about, and
that is much more serious."
Ultimately the prohibition against her ap-
pearance in Paris society was removed and her
annuity restored to her. When I met her she
congratulated herself that she was " no longer
contraband." I met her once again at Aix les
Bains, where I spent a few weeks with my father,
who had there a conference of a political character
with Cavour. It was at the Casino. On leaving
Paris, Mme. de Solms took a villa on the borders
of the Lac du Bourget, where she lived surrounded
by her little court of followers. The evening of
which I speak she wore a beautiful lace skirt,
the design of which embraced a number of bees
— the Imperial Bee; while she was conversing,
some one dexterously cut out several of these
from the back of her dress, leaving great holes in
the valuable lace. Who did it, and whether by
order, I never heard. I only knew her " by
sight," as she was not supposed to be recognized
at Court. On her marriage with Rattazzi, she
82
NOTRE DAME DES ARTS
soon became as celebrated in Ital.
Si i I the farm >u " Matindes d\
les B When she man Rattazzi her
• "I .es Matinees Italienn
It w . I iter on, I of the Empire, that
sh< ried M. de Rut • SI then lived in Paris,
and I b< was bi »rn when she was
nsiderably over fifty. The daughter was, I
ird, quite deform* d, but Mm* . !
incontestable proof of her originality, as well
■ ■I her tender maternity, by taking upon h<
to nurse her lat< ffsprin mewhat publicly.
Jules Oppert, noticing the young child at one
her parties, inquired to whom it belonged, and on
ild, he said, after a hesitation in which he
to calculate the mother's age, "After all,
it is quite possible. She gets ether people to
write her music and her articles, and to carve her
ituettes. She is quite capable of getting some
one to have children for her." 1 ne\ >uld
un tnd th it influence she exercised over
men of all agi as and countri< Mine.
de Rate had one sister, a proi I the Empres
Eugenie, by wh »vish she was for some time
at a convent in Paris. 1 I if it was th<-
Sacre* Cceur or I. i lux. Later on she went
to Italy and married G 1 iirr. 1 think
Madame Tiirr died before i ,■"«>. but 1 am rathi
ue on this p< >int.
But I am : ting my chronology, and mi.
now go huh a. earlier event
CHAPTER V
> I
THE COUP D ETAT
Receptions at the Elyse'e — Mrs. Ridgeway's soirees dansantes
— Madame Musard — I excel in dancing, and dance myself
into an engagement with M. de Chassiron — The difficulty
of getting married — My honeymoon — The Orleanist set —
A bridegroom in a fix — The Imperial family — A duel by
cards — The Coup d'etat — My adventure at the Elyse'e
Palace
The winter of 1849-50 was a very gay one.
The balls and receptions at the Elysee, where the
Princess Mathilde did the honours as hostess,
the soirees dansantes without number, filled the
programme of our weeks till Lent put a stop to
our festivities. The houses most in vogue in
the unofficial world, whose doors were hospitably
thrown open to their numerous friends, were
those of Mesdames de Beaumont, de B^hague,
Hope Bingham, and Ridgeway. The dances at
Mrs. Ridgeway's were perhaps the prettiest. Her
husband, her daughter and herself lived in one of
the old hotels of the Noble Faubourg. She was
a rich American, and could afford to pay a high
price for the privilege of living in the middle cf
the old aristocracy, with their frowns and airs and
84
THE i OUP D'ETAT
closed doors. Her balls were very s lect. The
ilitc of Paris, all the jeunesse don'e d'aiors,
crowded oms, and many well-known Ami
nsited her, which was interesting to me, as
I had myself been brought up in the United
and was glad to meet any one who could
talk with me of New York and Philadelphia, if
not of 1> irdentown.
An ither wealthy American who dazzled Paris
by the gorgeous luxury she displayed was Madame
Musard. She was exceedingly beautiful; her
ity wa h to be resented by many
who could not claim so large a share of that dis-
tinguishing quality at a time when to be beautiful
.en more desirable than to be clever or
ilthy. Those who envied Madame Musard,
however, affected to console themselves with
remembrance of her origin. She had, I believe,
been a maid-servant at a wayside' inn in Ohio,
when a French musician became infatuated with
her dancing and h<-r playing on the violin, no less
than by her beauty. Her name was Eliza Parker,
and soon after she became Madame Musard she
crossed the Atlantic without taking the previous
precaution of untying the matrimonial knot. For
a time she played a prominent part on the stage
of European gallantry, and at Baden her charms
attracted the admiration of the phlegmatic William
III <>f Holland, who invited her to take a
position at his side in his pala The strict
MY MEMOIRS
moral code of the House of Orange might not
have suited her in any case, but the husband left
in the United States was an insuperable obstacle.
When the beautiful American suggested to the
King that she was willing to accept a professional
fee, he hit upon a form of remuneration entirely
in accord with his principles of economy. He
gave her a bundle of share certificates which had
never yielded a dividend, and which he believed
to be utterly valueless. But as the bonds repre-
sented shares in an American petroleum oil
company, it was in actuality a huge fortune that
he was unwittingly bestowing upon Madame
Musard. The shares quickly rose in value, and
were materialized in a sumptuous mansion in
Paris, with magnificent horses and carriages,
powdered footmen, and a grand-tier box at the
opera.
Madame Musard's receptions and lavish
entertainments attracted some literary celebrities
and artists. I remember seeing Th^ophile
Gautier and Arsene Houssaye at one of them.
Houssaye, I believe, was a frequent guest of hers.
Some of her footmen were negroes, who looked
funny in their full-bottomed wigs, crimson plush
breeches, buckles and silk stockings. Ultimately
she retired from Paris society. The fatigue, I
fancy was mutual on the part of herself and her
guests. She bought a country mansion at Ville-
guier, and her splendid landau, with its four
86
THE COUP 1) ETAT
horses, ce to b n as they had formerly
u at the hour when the world drove through
the Bois.
A rival of Madame Musard was the Marquise
de Paiva, whi tablishment in the Champs
El) in mic but men were admitted, was
kept up with the most insolent luxury. At the
same time, receptions and balls were given by the
Aguados in Rue d'Elys< e, by the Tascher de la
Pag r at the Hdtel d'Albe, by the Metternichs
at the Austrian Embassy, the Walewskis at the
Ministry of Foreign affairs, and, of course, at the
hospitable home ol the Duke and Duchess de
Morny.
All through the carnival we met every night
at om- h or the other, danced and supped
after the cotillon, and, as the song says, went
home in the morning early. We rested all
through Lent, only i an again with renewed
vigour after Easter.
My father returned from Italy about this
time, very much disgusted and decidedly annoyed
to find that I had allowed myself and been allow, d
to dance myself into an engagement with the
1 1 iron de ( "ha , an »n.
My projected marriage met with a good deal
"i opposition and some trouble. When we
thought everything definitely settled, we found
that the necessar) certificates were missing. In
France there is more difficulty in being born, in
«7
MY MEMOIRS
being married, or in dying, than in any other
country in the world. The formalities to be gone
through are so much more strict in France than
elsewhere. My birth was registered at Trenton,
New Jersey. Great was our astonishment on
receiving a reply to the application for my birth
certificate, made through the French Ambassador,
to the effect that there had been, some years
before, a great fire at Trenton, that the church
and vestry had been burnt down, and that not
the vestige of a register remained ! After much
delay and many consultations, the officials declared
it was impossible the marriage could take place
unless four witnesses to my birth could be pro-
duced. Rather a strong order ! Luckily, my
father's cousin, Prince Pierre Bonaparte, had
visited America in 1833-4, and was in the house
at Bordentown on the day of my birth. My
mother's sister was a second witness, and we had
to send to America to request Mr. Stevens and
another friend to come to France for the purpose
of identifying me, which they very kindly did.
So in July 1850 I was married, on the 10th
day of the month. My marriage took place at
Vicomte Clary's country seat near Paris, called
Le Pavilion. From the Pavilion we drove to
Corteil en route for Nantes and a trip through
Brittany.
We wished to visit all the noted places of
this country, so full of historical interest, where
88
THE COUP 1) BTAT
the wars of Vendue and the scenes of the
Revolution had left so many and such lasting
souvenirs. After a few days at Nantes, wl 1.
de Chassiron had several members oi his family
whose acquaintance he wished me to make, \.
sped on our way in a post chaise to ' lisson, to
visit the ruins ol the old cast - well known
in the history of Brittany. The country round
there is lovely, and I wa interested that \
decided to remain a day at the old inn, perchi
on the top of a hill, with the quaint little village
at the foot. We strolled out : I found among
the ruins of the castle a doorway, still in perfect
preservation, and so beautiful that the fancy t < •« >k:
me to make a sketch. I fear poor Giraud, could
he have seen my efforts, would have thrown up
his arms in despair. Luckily, however, M. de
Chassiron, who could paint and draw well, came
to the rescue, and I was able to take my door-
way with me in my portfolio when I left. I
visited the donjon where, according to the
traditions of the place, Abelard was at one time
imprisoned. The next day we drove to Tiffany
where we took rooms and remaine I for a week or
more making excursions in the neighbourhood —
one ol the most picturesque of Vendee. From
the inn to the valley below we went down a
narrow path cut in a steep descent and tilled with
a mass of small stones, very pointed, on which we
walked as if on eggs, the process being most
MY MEMOIRS
painful to my feet, with Paris shoes, thin soles
and high Louis XV heels. We hired rods and
fishing-tackle to worry the poor little fish in the
stream that ran through the valley : so we whiled
away the summer hours till our return to Nantes,
to do duty in family dinners and evening parties,
given in our honour.
M. de Chassiron, of whom I have said very
little, was Nantais by his mother. The de
Goulains, the Turennes — old Royalist families —
were his first cousins. His father belonged to
the Charente Inferieure. De Chassiron is the
name of an old French family whose barony dates
back to the days when barons were seigneurs.
So his ancestors were Seigneurs de l'ile d'Oleron
et de l'ile de Re\ His father was a staunch
Royalist — Orleanist, I should say. M. Duchatel,
minister of Louis Philippe, was M. de Chassiron's
most intimate friend. Thus, by my marriage
I was thrown into the Royalist and Orleanist
set. I must say I liked them immensely. To me
they were extremely courteous, especially the
Dampierres, the Duchatels, and Puys^gurs.
We travelled from Nantes to St. Brieux,
Cotes du Nord, where we had been invited to
stay with the Count and Countess de Turennes —
dear old people who lived entirely in the depths
of their wood, in rather a tumble-down old
chateau, but picturesque and overlooking a wide
panorama of beautiful scenery.
90
THE c OUP I) 1.1. \ 1
We [ all the way from Nantes to St.
/:', nit mid-day we chan
horses at 1 >in in, a little village in those days, but
the pretty countrj nd ha Lttracted the
attention of many English, who arc always so
mpt to discover a pretty foreign place and
make it a little colony all their own. Pau, Can:
aid even Algiers and Ajaccio have their
colony of English, and I quite accus-
tomed to English habits and English t i^t<s.
Hatter puddings, suet dumplings, and hot cross
low them everywhere. Roast beef anil
plum pudding have beconv French as well as tea.
1 r m St. Brieux, we travell* d back to Paris
with a yi on their honeymoon, but
parted company at the Gare d'Orleans. The
brid im was so I l'-<-\>. we had some
difficulty in waking him, and when we at last
suc< was unable to leave the carriage.
lie had taken off his boots to sleep more com-
fortably, and his feet had become such a size
during his slumbers that nothing could induce
them into the boots again. I never heard the
! of the stare.
r som. I have been too unwell to
write. It is always, I feel, very difficult to take
up the thread of my ideas where 1 left them. If
I never stopped writing, 1 could go on tor ever.
This sounds verj Irish. It is nevertheless true.
MY MEMOIRS
When I have collected my thoughts and thrown
myself once more into the dear past, the present
all vanishes from my mind. I see, hear, feel
nothing around me. I live over again the years
from 1848 to 1870 — the years when I really lived
— when each day brought some new pleasure,
some fresh excitement, a wished-for jewel, a
" sentiment " or a caprice. The days when the
first thought in the morning was " what shall we
do to-day to amuse ourselves ? " The last thought,
"how shall we amuse ourselves to-morrow? " In
a word, the days of the Empire — days of glory, of
luxury, of love, of folly; with no looking back,
with no looking forward — the retreat from Mos-
cow— the life and death of the King of Rome —
the battle of Waterloo — the sad drama of St.
Helena — all, all forgotten, disappeared in one
round of triumphal glory and pleasure. Who
thought of a future ? Who dreamt of a reverse ?
The sovereigns in Paris — the nations at our feet
— the Czar, the Emperor of Austria, the King of
Prussia, the Prince of Wales by the side of the
Emperor Napoleon — all smiled upon us : who
could foresee 1870 — ? Had it been prophesied,
who would have believed it ?
We took up our quarters in a small pied-a-
terre, which had been engaged for us in the
Rue des Ecuries d'Artois. My father and all my
family had left the Rue d'Anjou for a pretty villa
near the Bois de Boulogne, on account of my
92
THE COUP 1) ETAT
mother's health. We remained in Paris tor some
months, till after the New Y ir, and then went
on a visit to M. I hassiron's father at the
• le Beauregard, near La Rochelle,
1 Intc
While in Paris, \\ very gay, theatre
and sir it . Prince Pierre
Bonapart f whom I have spoken .is being
present at my birth, was with us at many
air festiviti He was like the Emperor
Napoleon 1 in face and figure, much more so than
any other member of the family except Prim
Naj I - son of King feVome, who, it will be
reme 1. married a Miss Paterson when
on a visit to the United States, which marriage
ired null by the i (under pressure), as
the Emperor refused to recognize his brother's
union. 1 it< r, King Jerdme married the Prince
Catherine of Wurtemburg and had two children,
Princess Mathilde and Prince Napoleon. This
branch under the Si cond Empire formed the so
.led Imp' rial family — the other branches and
memb -<1 the so-called
Prince Pierre, 111.'- ourselves, belonged to this
last, also his elder brothers, Prince de Canino
and Prince Louis Lucien, the \ who died in
1 England. Prince Pierre.like his brothers, had great
literar) talents — a very cultivated mind, and great
powers of h. Y< i he was scarcely what you
could call refined. I le had very strong republican
MY MEMOIRS
opinions, principles and prejudices. He had
spent all the early part of his life in Corsica, and
in character and manner was more Italian than
French. I liked him, perhaps because I knew
him more intimately than my other relations —
perhaps because none of the others could tolerate
him. Perhaps because he was considered the
black sheep of the family on account of his ad-
vanced politics — and I thought him unjustly set
aside.1 However that may be, I did like him,
and had I been a little older, or had a marriage
been suggested with him, instead of some other
prince I will not name, my destiny might have
been very different. Many anecdotes have been
told me of his life in Corsica and elsewhere. One
of these I must relate.
'Twas said that the two brothers, Prince Louis
Lucien and Prince Pierre, in their early youth,
when shooting mouflons in the mountains in
1 Princess Caroline appears to have forgotten Prince Pierre's
unfortunate altercation with Victor Noir at Auteuil in 1870,
an altercation which resulted in the impulsive young Corsican
drawing his revolver and fatally wounding Noir. The sensa-
tion which this affair created in Paris was profound, and it
involved the Government in serious trouble. Public sympathy
was wholly with Victor Noir. Prince Pierre himself was
arrested and sent summarily for trial at the High Court of
Justice at Tours. He was acquitted of the capital charge, but
sentenced to pay ^1,000 as compensation to the Noir family.
There is no room for doubt that Prince Pierre was a black
sheep. He was reckless, extravagant, quarrelsome, and became
a continual thorn in the flesh of the Emperor.
94
THE COUP I) II AT
Corsica, came acrossa beautiful ; mt girl, with
whom they both fell violently in ! Who she
Wets, and whether she favoured both brothers
neither, I cannot tell. Be that as it may, tl
quarrelled. Les preux cht s ol old would, no
doubt, in similar occurrence have had recourse to
lance and sword. The Corsican princes decided
tu play for their belle a game of earth. Tl.
went to the nearest inn and wrote and signed a
paper igre< ng that whichever won the game
should marry the lady fair. Prince Lucien won
and, faithful to his word, a short time after married
her.1 She never left the island, as far as I know.
Prince Lucien lived in England, securing to her
a comfortable income which she received till her
death, a few years ago, somewhere about the
spring of 1891.
On December 2, 1851, the Prince-President
effected his celebrated Coup cCEtat. The pre-
sumption is that if he had not abruptly dep<
the Assembly, the Assembly would have deposed
the President. Whatever history may have to
say of the occasion, there can be no doubt that
Louis Napoleon held the: trump cards, and that,
spurred by De Morny, he played them with
success. The bis battalions were on his side.
He made his power effective and solved for the
time the difficulties in which France was plunged.
1 She was Maria Cecchi, of Lucca. He married her in
[3 and w.is separated from her in 1S50.
95
MY MEMOIRS
I am not a politician. I do not pretend to under-
stand the intricacies of political movements. My
own recollections of the Coup d'litat are associ-
ated only with a personal adventure.
It was in the evening. The Elysee Palace,
we heard, was being mobbed ; there was serious
rioting ; blood was being shed ; the Prince-
President was in danger. Princess Mathilde,
with whom I was staying in the Rue de Cour-
celles, was extremely anxious. Fearing the worst,
she had packed up all her valuable jewels, and
was sitting on her jewel-cases. She implored me
to drive to the Elysee and see what was happen-
ing, and bade me as a precaution to take a small
loaded revolver with me. I drove through the
crowded streets and arrived in safety in the court-
yard of the palace. But as the gates were
opened the excited mob rushed in. As I stepped
from the carriage I was startled by a shot quite
close to me. In my terror I imagined that some
one had attempted my assassination. I had for-
gotten my own revolver, and as I alighted the
weapon had fallen to the pavement and been
accidentally discharged. The people, on their
part, thought that I was shooting at them, and the
incident might have ended very differently had
not the footman and one of the Elysee servants
hastened to my rescue and hustled me indoors.
I returned to the Rue de Courcelles, but the
Princess, still more and more uneasy, begged me
96
THE COUP 1) ETAT
to pass the night at the Elys6e, in order to give
her the news. So I was installed in a room at
the porter's lodg< The night was undisturl
by the smallest incident, and I slept like an
Englishman in his four-poster.
"7
CHAPTER VI
RESTORATION OF THE EMPIRE
The Imperial Eagles — The Prince-President's tour of the
Provinces — His speech at Bordeaux — Miss Howard couples
my name with that of the future Emperor — The Prince
honours me with a visit to Beauregard — Restoration of
the Empire — Matrimonial negotiations — Mademoiselle de
Montijo — The Emperor's speech announcing his betrothal
— The Empress Eugenie — Des Pierettes — Visit of Queen
Victoria — English Beauties at Compiegne — Birth of the
Prince Imperial — The Prince of Orange and the Mabille
Gardens — A Royal arrest — Death of the Prince of Orange
May ii, 1902
A letter, a word, a tune, and old recollections
come floating back, and things and scenes of long
ago and long forgotten come suddenly before our
eyes. A date — the nth of May, 1852, just half-
a-century ago — brings back to my mind, as if it
were yesterday, the imposing ceremony of the
distribution of the Imperial Eagles to the army.
The famous Eagles that had slept with the
Emperor Napoleon, buried with him for thirty-
seven years, were once again to carry our flags
to victory, and, casting their shadows before,
proclaim to the world a second Empire. Four
98
RESTORATION OF THE EMPIRE
montl my nineteen winters hud p : over
my head wh ompanying th Princi
Mathilde, I stood on the balcony of the Ecole
Militaire. The Champs de Mars in all its glory
before me. R< at after regiment in line,
and every colonel of every absent regiment
ordered to be present. . . . An immense chaj
had been I on all tour sides, tor
the M iss and benediction of the E igles. The
Prince President. King Jerome, his uncle, Prince
Napoleon, all the foreign princes and princesses of
the Imperial family, the Marshals St. Arnaud and
Magnan, and all the officers and great dignitari*
! the State arrived as the clock struck tweh
The shouts of " Vive Napoleon ! "Vive le Prince-
President!" it the air as he passed along the
front of each regiment of the garrison of Paris
and Versailles. The sun, how brightly it shone
upon us! Weather and faces were alike radiant.
The Prince President entered a sort of stand
erved for him, and before presenting the flaj
to the colonels, all assembled before him, ho
addressed the troops. Then the Archbishop,
alter blessing the Eagles, delivered a short allo-
cution. And, the colonels receiving the flags, the
air again resounded with deafening cries.
The- Prince, leaving the Champs de Mars,
>ed along a balcony where we stood. How
he< red ! We waved our handkerchiefs — w
blew kisses in the air. Our enthusiasm knew no
MY MEMOIRS
bounds. We were wild with delight. My pen
could never tell or give any idea of the picture
that flashes before me as I am carried back to
1852. That evening Paris was splendidly illu-
minated. Most magnificent fireworks were sent
off from the Place de la Concorde. Dense crowds
filled every place and every street. And joy
filled all our hearts at the Palace of the Elysee.
Hearts that, with very few exceptions, will never
beat again.
The Princess Mathilde is the only one left of
the older generation. She was born on May 27,
1820, one year later than Queen Victoria. Of
the younger I alone am left to remember — of
those old enough to be present.
The members of the family present besides
the Princess Mathilde and myself were, of the
older generation —
The Princess Bacciochi,
The Princess Caroline Murat (my mother),
The Princess Marie of Baden — Duchess of
Hamilton ;
And of the younger generation —
Princess Julie Bonaparte — Marquise Roc-
cagiovini,
Princess Charles Bonaparte, ne'e Princess
Ruspoli,
Princess Charlotte Bonaparte — Comtesse
Primoli,
100
RESTORATION OF THE EMPIRE
Trim i Augusta Boi — Prim i
rielli.
On the nth of May thi r, 1002, I wr<
to th< Prii Mathilde to ask her if she remem-
This is I written 1 in th< 1 >l
her eighty ! birtl
. H_/02.
My DEA1 I IN
I remember everythii I think often
erythi 1 steep myseli in tears and
avenirs. I thank you. 1 embrace you.
You] . ; aunt,
Mathili
In the autumn oi . having earlier in the
it made a pr< i t< 1 Strasl urg, the 1 'riiu
President decided to forth on a visit to
the provim ithern France, in order to
rtain for himself the sentiment of the people
on the subject of the ai ion to the Imperial
thron< After passing through several oi the
departments, where he was most enthusiastically
rei made at Bord th< well-known
h, " L'empire c'est la Paix," in the emu
ol which h .: i : •• 1 have conquests to make,
but they are conqu We have vast
waste territorii ; to drain and cultivate, roads to
en, ports to be deepened, canals to be c< impleted,
river-, to be made navigable, railways to be
connected. . . . This is how 1 shall interpret th
Empire, il the Empire is to be re-established.
101
MY MEMOIRS
These are the conquests which I meditate ; and
you who surround me, who desire the good of
your country, you are my warriors."
I joined his suite at Bordeaux and was present
with him on the gala night at the Opera House.
The opera was Le Prophete. I had some trouble
in preventing the Prince from going to sleep in
the middle of the performance. He was not a
lover of music, and the opera was a heavy one.
We had seen it so many times before.
From Bordeaux the Prince went on to An-
gouleme to pay his flying visit to Les Charentes,
reputed to be the cradle of the dawning Empire.
I went on to receive him at Rochefort. He was
to be at the Prefecture Maritime. An official
dinner and a ball was the programme. One of
my horses went down as I entered the town. I
deplored the catastrophe and the consequent
delay, but, luckily, my best hat was the only
sufferer. A postilion put his foot through it. I
was doomed not to look my best, which, as may
be supposed, slightly annoyed the bloom of
eighteen. I was spared the dinner, however,
and arrived at the ball just in time to take my
place as the Prince's partner in the quadrille
dhonneur. During the rest of the evening he
paid great attention to me ; so much so, that
remarks were freely made.
Miss Howard, who always followed incognita
in the Prince's suite, remarked to a friend, who,
I02
RESTORATION OF THE EMPIRE
i .f course rej ! the /-■ to me, " i
tite sotte would have been Empress of the
French if she had had the good sense to wait
— the only unmarried Princess in the family.
And such a match would have had my approval."
From a letter which came into my p< ion
long afterwards, I extract the following —
"What shall I sa ait the ball? Nothing
larkable — except, perhaps, the presence ol
.Miss Howard, the President's mistress who, like
the favourites of olden days, was in a position of
honour, although she was not too obvious,
approached her and, in the course of our talk,
she spoke these words, which have never passed
from my memory : ' Hasn't she been foolish, this
little princess— to marry de Chassiron ? If she
had willed it I myself should have made of her —
who knows? — perhaps a future Empress.1
" 1 repeated this the same evening to the
Princess, who replied to me: 'Yes, 1 know. A
great many people think the same my family
among others; but I'm not made to reign over
Fran< . M\ ition dors not go as far as that.
( >ne would have to roach a height of character to
which I should never be able to attain. No, I
will be content to rule over a few French
h<arts.' "
Early the next day my maids and valet were
sent on to La Rochelle. On my arrival, just in
time to dress, I heard there had been another
accident, owing to the careless driving ol the
«°3
MY MEMOIRS
postilion. The wheel of the travelling carriage
caught the porte cochere, with the result that
trunks, portmanteaux, boxes, travelling-case,
etc., were sent flying from the top into mid-air,
landing in various parts of the courtyard. Luckily
the maids and jewel-cases inside took no harm —
but the trunks were in pieces, and most of my
belongings had been gathered up here, there and
everywhere. Notwithstanding, I had to be in
full battle array to receive the Prince. I put on
my war-paint as best I could with the remains of
the wreck, and just got to the hall as the Prince
was signalled. Another dinner and another ball,
and so ended a very trying and tiring day.
Beauregard, our country seat, was six miles
from La Rochelle, and the Prince announced his
intention of honouring me with a visit on his way
back to Tours. It was the fall of the year, 13th
or 14th of October, I think, that the Prince and
all his military suite breakfasted at Beauregard.
After a 1 2 o'clock dejeuner and a smoke on the
terrace, we planted a tree in remembrance of the
day — a Polonius imperialis. Then the Prince
proposed that the travelling equipages should be
sent on two miles that I might accompany him in
a constitutional. It was a perfect October day,
and we all thoroughly enjoyed the walk. Sud-
denly the order " Pas gymnastique " was yelled in
my ear, and I felt my arm seized by the Prince,
who started at a little trot, all the suite forming
104
RESTORATION OF THE EMPIRE
into lim ular military style.
At the top of .i Ion ri
breath. Th were drawn up a little
ahead. All pi it thing an end, and so
I ' to the Prince, thanking him warmly
1 d< »ne me, watched and waved
till he it of sight I drove home, sorry to
1 with the Prince, but i I rry to rest. I he
hurry and bastl«- of the last few days had tired
n my nineteen summ<
The Prince, after visiting Tours, made
break in his journey at Ambois< Ab I el-Kadir,
the Algerian hero who had surrendered to General
Lamoriciere in 1847, was imprisoned in the
1 an d'Amb md the Prince wished to
have the pleasure of telling the prisoner himseli
that he was j> irdoned and fri
I Mi tin- [6th of < )ctober the Prince re ent< red
Paris. He was received by the Ministry, the
S . and all the high dignitai f State at
the (iar<- ('M',' ins. Amid the thundering oftl
the peals of ringing bells, the shouts
of th( iple, the military music, intermingled
with singing of cantatas, the Prince was almost
rried in triumph to the Palace of the Tuileries.
1 . Lter in the evening, tired of honours, of h< »mage,
ol noise, fatigu< 1 by the journey, he drove to St.
Cloud for a lit: t and qui
Meanwhile the Moniti ■>■. the official pa]
was preparing an article to appear the followin
1
MY MEMOIRS
day, saying that all France was desirous that the
Empire should be restored. The wish of the
nation and the people had been enthusiastically
manifested, and it was suggested that the Senate
should be consulted.
From this time the course of events made
rapid strides. After receiving in great ceremony
11 Les grands corps de l'fitat " at St. Cloud, on
November i, offering him the crown, the Prince,
either from superstition or sentiment, again chose
December 2 for his proclamation as Emperor,
and on that date he left St. Cloud and proceeded
in state to the Tuileries.
In the first days of November I had returned
to Paris, the 4th being the "St. Charles," my
fete day, and also my mother's. We never missed
being together. A note from the Princess de
Wagram was brought me, saying, " Venez feter
tous les Charles avec nous a Grosbois."
We spent a few days with our amiable
chatelaine — the two families being old and dear
friends. The weather was bitterly cold and
bleak — almost impossible to keep warm, notwith-
standing the huge forest logs that blazed on the
hearth. Grosbois, beautiful chateau, one of the
finest places in the department of Seine et Oise,
belonged to Monsieur, brother of Louis XVI,
then to some other, and afterwards to Moreau,
before it came into the possession of Berthier,
Prince de Wagram. The property is, I believe,
106
RESTORATION OF THE EMPIRE
nine leagues in a rii ice and joins the I I
of Senart, the hunting of which belonged to my
brother during the Empire.
The ( )ourt was at this time at ( )ompi
The pretty, ancient town of Compie has
many historical memories. Built in the time ol
the Gauls, it was here that in 1430 Jeanne d'An
was captured and sold to the English, and where
a statue is erected to commemorate the spot on
which her arrestation was effected. The beauti-
ful castle was construi ted durin reigns of
Louis XIV and XV, and it has always since
been the favourite resid of our sovereigns.
It was here, in [810, that Napoleon I met
Marie Louise of Austria; here that Napoleon
111 met Kugenic de Montijo. The forest is a
very extensive one of 30,000 acres, the hunting-
ground of many of our French kings. The
Chiteau of Pierrefonds stands at it tern ex-
tremity, and, having fallen almost into ruins, it
was restored by orders of the Emperor, 1 think
in 1S62, the restoration being entrusted to the
care of Violette-le-Duc, the eminent architect ol
the Second Empire, who enjoyed great favour
with the Empress Eugenie.
Prior to the Emperor's marriage, Prim
Mathilde acted as hostess at the Palace of Com-
piegne, as she did at the El) ;de. It is matter ^\
history that Princess Mathilde was one ol the
first objects of Louis Napoleon's affections. Th
107
MY MEMOIRS
had seen much of each other in their youth at
Arenenburg, and his mother, the Queen Hor-
tense, had the ambition that they should marry.
He was sincerely fond of Princess Mathilde
always. More than once he proposed marriage
to her, and it is recorded that while he was a
prisoner at Ham, hearing of her marriage with
Anatole Demidoff in 1840, he wept and said
bitterly to Barrot : " This is the last and heaviest
blow that fortune had in store for me." It is
possible, indeed very probable, that had my aunt
been Empress of the French the Franco- Prussian
War would never have taken place, and that
many lesser errors of the Empire would have
been avoided. She understood Louis Napoleon
in a way that it was never given his consort to
understand him, and she would have made an
admirable Empress.
Among Princess Mathilde's guests at Com-
piegne, in November 1852, were Madame de
Montijo and her daughter Eugenie. Napoleon,
always attracted by the sight of a pretty face and
a graceful figure, saw Mademoiselle in the draw-
ing-room. " Who is she ? " he inquired of my
aunt, indicating the beautiful girl. " A Made-
moiselle de Montijo, a foreigner from Andalusia,"
the Princess told him. " I would like to be
introduced to her," he said. Madame de Montijo
and Mademoiselle Eugenie were the Princess
Mathilde's guests in the ensuing winter at a
108
/ -
RESTORATION OF THE EMPIRE
dance and various dinm ties at the Elys*
md from that time onward,
Prince President stayed, whether at St. Cloud,
Fontaim . or Compiegne, the Montijos w<
among the most frequent guests. Mademoiselle
de Montijo was then no longer a mere girl in
irs, but she was still extremely beautiful, and si
looked • i on horseback, when takii
part in the ch ise . often did at Compiegne.
Napoleon did not di from Prime Jerome
the fact that he was smitten by the fair Spaniard's
charms. " Yes," i nded \6r6me, " it is quite
natural and proper to love Mademoiselle d
Montijo, but of course one cannot marry her."
Her Spanish pride was observable, and al-
though it was si retly hinted by Henry that she-
was ambitious to become Empress of the French,
it was apparent that she was prepared equally to
quit France and return to Spain at the slightest
sign of disresp* t.
Rumours of all kinds were afloat — among
other "on dits" that friendly negotiations having
failed to bring about an alliance with the Princess
de Was i, granddaughter of the Grand Duchess
Stephanie of Baden and the present Queen of
Saxony, Comte Waleski, then our envoyi in
London, was endeavouring to arrange a union
between the future Emperor of the French and
Princess Mar)- Adelaide of Hohenlohe, niece of
Queen Victoria. Meantime, the habitues kA the
109
MY MEMOIRS
Court at Compiegne affirmed that Louis Napoleon,
ignoring equally friends and Ambassador, was
busily looking after himself and preparing his
marriage according to his own fancy.
Mile, de Montijo, whom he greatly admired,
was again with her mother among the guests
at Compiegne. No one who remembers her
unsurpassed loveliness, her captivating charm, her
graceful manner, could be surprised that the
Prince fell a victim to the fascination of her
beauty. Of course, gossip was rife with many
stories, and every one had become familiar with
the saying of Eugenie, that the only way to her
bedroom was through a well-lit church. One
incident I will tell, though I was not with the
Court that year, and I know it only by hearsay.
One morning, during a walk in the woods with
him, Mile, de Montijo discovered and greatly
admired a quaintly-shaped clover leaf, holding
large drops of dew. The Prince sent it to Paris
by special messenger, ordering a jewel to be made
in perfect imitation of the natural leaf, large
diamonds forming the dewdrops on the green
emeralds. The jewel was presented to Mile,
de Montijo two days later, having been
beautifully and so rapidly executed. I forget
the name of the jeweller — perhaps Meiller, of
the Rue de la Paix. It was by this pretty
means that he first revealed his love to her.
When the Court had returned from Compiegne,
no
RESTORATION OF THE EMPIRE
conjectun the Emperor's matrimonial In-
tentions formed the subject" .1 conversa
tion. The conjectures v. ften ridiculously
wide oi the mark; but we in the inner circle of
the Tuileries knew that decidedly Mile, de Montijo
was to be our future Empre Everyone u
talking and whispering about it at the Rue de
Courcelli Some blamed, some admired the
courage ol the Emperor, who was certainly
showing a firm determination to please himself
ami consult no one. He was no doubt rather
sore on the subject of an European alliance.
i t France would soon need an Empress and
an heir was felt by all the nation. Would that
the Empress Eugenie had crowned France with
as many "hopes" as the Queen has bestowed
upon Great Britain !
1 he betrothal was announced on January
22, 1853, in il speech made by the Emperor to
the Grands corps reunis — the speech so well
known, in which he said —
"When in the face ol ancient Europe, one is
carried by force oi a new principle to the level of
the old dynasties, it is not by affecting an ancient
descent or endeavouring to push into the families
oi kin^s that <>ne claims recognition. It is rather
b\ remembering one's origin, by preserving one's
own character, and by assuming frankly towards
Europe the position ol a parvenu — a glorious
1 1 1
MY MEMOIRS
title when one rises by the free suffrages of a
great people. Thus, compelled to part from
precedents, my marriage becomes but a private
matter. It has remained for me to choose my
wife. She who has become the object of my
choice is of lofty birth. French in heart, by
education, she has, as a Spaniard, the advantage
of not having a family in France to whom it
would be necessary to give honours and dignities.
Gifted with every quality of the heart, she will
be the ornament of the throne, as in the hour of
danger she would be one of its most courageous
defenders. A pious Catholic, she will pray with
me for the happiness of France. I come to-day
to say to France, ' I have preferred a woman
whom I love and respect to an unknown woman.'
Soon, on my way to Notre Dame, I shall present
the Empress to the people and the army. The
confidence which they repose in me secures their
sympathies towards her whom I have chosen,
and you, when you have learned to know her,
will be convinced that once again I have been
inspired by Providence."
The Moniteur next day announced what was
already to us an open secret, that the lady whom
the Emperor had chosen was Mademoiselle
Eugenie de Montijo, Countess of Teba. Apart-
ments were hastily prepared at the Elysee for the
reception of the Montijo family. The Duke de
112
RESTORATION OF THE EMPIRE
Morny, who knew well in advance the formal
intentii >:. hi - br< »ther and m it
dinner in honour of our future :id
■r lo< iked m< >re charmii
than i mi that ■ imple toi It
was on th /eniner that Madame Walewska
surprised those wh re not in the r t by
ng Eugeni I ntijo with the words, " I
congratulate you, Madame, upon the brilliant
future in st you."
( In the evening of the 29th of January, 1853,
nbled at the IHi I « Mademoiselle de
Montijo was received on the threshold by the
1 >urt dignitaries, who ushered her into the draw-
ing-room in which we comin The
Emperor then led his bride to the Hall of Mar-
shals, where the civil ceremony was duly performi
by the Min Lte. After the signature of
the marriage c< >ntract, the wedding party adjourn'
the theatre, to hear Aul.er's cantata. The
• was splendid, and id to pi • the-
ir that w is to appertain to the new rtgim
On the conclusion of the cantata, her Majesty
was conducted by the Grand Master of the I ere
monies back to the El
The following morning saw the pair setting
forth in great pomp for Notre Dame, the Empress
wearing the Imperial crown which Napoleon 1
had placed on the head of Marie Louise. In
front of the high altar in the thronged cathedral,
H . 1 ;
MY MEMOIRS
the State chairs of their Majesties were prominent
on a raised platform under a high canopy, and as
the notes of the Wedding March swelled through
the lofty building the congregation rose to watch
the procession of the clergy approaching slowly
from the porch of the altar. Then the Emperor
himself appeared, leading his bride, with the
Regent diamond sparkling on her bosom. It
was only when they were actually approaching
the throne that the Bishop of Nancy discovered
that the person who ought to have brought the
wedding-ring had forgotten it. What was to be
done ? I was one of the nearest of the company
assembled about the throne, and, seeing the
Bishop's distress, and learning its reason, I offered
my own wedding-ring, which fortunately hap-
pened to be small enough. The ceremonial rites
were then performed by the Archbishop of Paris,
and the Bishop of Nancy presented the pieces of
gold and my ring on a gold salver. The Empress
moved from the throne to the altar, and after the
benediction, in the Spanish fashion she crossed
her brow, her lips and her heart with her thumb.
At the close of the gorgeous ceremony, the Arch-
bishop conducted the Emperor and Empress back
to the cathedral porch, and Napoleon and his
Consort returned along the quays to the Tuileries,
the rest of us following.
Mademoiselle de Montijo was certainly beauti-
ful, and no one was astonished at the caprice of
114
RESTORATION OF THE EMPIRE
the I". iiv People especially admired her fair
hair. It will be remembered, no doubt, that it
was for her that the famous hairdi r, Felix,
invented the coiffure which has been so long
worn— the large bow of silk or of velvet which,
arranged like a chiernon, hid all the back of the
head, and thereby also concealed the lack of hair.
It is not c unmonly known, but Mademoiselle
de Montijo had at this time her hair absolut<
short. Gossip has given a good many different
accounts of the reason for this deficiency of
coiffure. A certain Due d'Ossuna, and the l)uc
d'Aumale were mentioned in turn as bein<> the
O
happy mortals who had profited by the Spanish
Uty's loss of her tr But the truth was
whispered to me a long time ago by the blue bird
to whom, they say, the Empress herself must have
confided it in a moment of indiscretion.
She had been madly in love with her cousin,
the Due de and bi 1 herself loved by
him. When, presently, she learned that he loved
and was loved by her sister, for whom she had
a warm affection, her despair was such that she-
took poison. She was ill for a long time. Her
head was shaved ; her hair was still short when
her mother brought her to France. She became
Empress, but, they say. she always kept hidden
away in her heart the souvenir of her first love,
although she felt no resentment against her rival,
who came often to visit her in her exalted position,
»a 115
MY MEMOIRS
and who died in Paris in a house which belonged
to the Empress : a house which Eugenie had
herself christened with the name of the Hotel
d'Albe, and which she had razed to the ground
on her sister's death, not desiring that any other
person should ever inhabit it. To-day, in the
place where were situated this house and its vast
garden, one sees the Rue d'Albe, which belongs
to the Empress, although the property is held in
the name of General BeVille.
After the Empire was proclaimed, we lived for
some years in a small house in the Rue Pigalle, to
be quite near my father, whose large mansion was
in the Rue de Tivoli. Here the reception-rooms
were exceptionally fine, a long suite of which were
reserved for entertaining, being quite separate
from, though communicating with, the wing in
which were my mother's private apartments. We
entertained largely : dinners, balls, routs, followed
each other in rapid succession. One ball remains
engraved on my memory: the fancy ball, " Des
Pierrettes." All invitations were sent in my name,
and I decided that every dancer should be a
Pierrot with a Pierrette to match, in couples of
blue and pink, " chacun avait sa chacune." The
wall-flowers were in dominoes of every colour and
hue. My sister, the Princess Anna, who was
then not yet "out," led the couples of pink
Pierrots, and I the blue. We made our entrte
about forty couples, making our obeisance to our
116
RESTORATION OF THE EMPIRE
hostess as we passed to the ballroom. The quad-
rilles and different dances, under the direction of
Cellarius, the leading dancing-master of Paris at
this time, went off to perfection, especially the
Russian mazurka, one of the prettiest of the many
pretty Russian danc ently introduced in Paris
by Markowski. The orchestra of the ever famous
Strauss carried us through an intoxicating whirl of
delight, till the cotillon ended with the first ra\ \s
morning light, and we found ourselves in a
irge supper-room built out from the ballroom on
the first floor, and enclosing the whole courtyard.
A hot supper was prepared for the guests, who
fully appreciated the preparations made for their
entertainment. The cotillon had quite exhausted
our powers, being led by M. de Chassiron with
his usual entrain. He was the favourite leader
of the cotillon at every ball. Who his partner
v. as on this particular occasion my memory cannot
tt-11 me, nor do I find my own inscribed on its
pages. One couple, however, are still pictured in
its depths — Prince Richard de Metternich and his
charming Pierrette, Mine, de Lowenthal. Nor
must I forget Baron de Heckren, a Russian by
birth and Prussian at heart. We danced the
mazurka together in true Russian iashion. I felt
myself taking an irresistible sweep from one end
of the room to the other, regardless of more timid
couples, whose slow, dreamy pace did not suit our
impetuous dan. 0 other individuality stands
' 17
MY MEMOIRS
out before me, and so this little account of the
Pierrettes' ball must end. I wish I had the gift
of telling as well as feeling. My writing seems
to me like a melody that one sings so beautifully
inwardly, but when the sound comes it is all out
of tune, and not a single note is true or gives an
idea of what you vainly try to render. To-day is
the 3rd of July, 1902. The storms so prevalent
everywhere reached us yesterday. Last night
was fearfully boisterous, and the wind is still
howling and cold as in early spring. The seasons
seem almost as changed as my life : the atmosphere
as full of clouds.
My souvenirs of Queen Victoria's visit to
Paris in 1855 are vague. I only remember the
ball at Versailles and the great display of
diamonds, which flashed even more brilliantly
in the gilded salons than did the illuminated
fountains in the gardens. The Queen danced,
opening the ball with the Emperor, while the
Prince Consort and the Princess Mathilde were
their vis-a-vis. The Empress was not permitted
thus to disport herself, as it was only a few months
before the birth of the Prince Imperial.
Nor have I anything special or individual to
say of the other Royal personages who were
the guests of the Emperor and Empress from
time to time. The year 1867, year of the great
exhibition, brought scores of them into our midst.
One might almost have said, as Count de Segur
118
RESTORATION OF Till. EMPIRE
said in excuse to the great Xapoleon, "Sire.
irdon my being late, but I could not get along,
tor the streets .ire cr 1 with kin First
arrived Oscar of Sweden, and then the you:
Prince ol < >ran ,-• " Citron " as he was nicknamed
by Gramont — and in turn the King and Queen
• the Belgians, the King and Queen of the
Hellenes, Queen Pia of Portugal, the Duke of
Leuchtenburg, the Grand Duchess Marie of
Russia, the Prince of Wales and the Duke of
Fdinburgh. In June came the Czar Alexander
II with his sons, and King William of Prussia
with Prince Frederick, and attended by Bismarck
and Moltke. Later still, King Humbert of Italy
and his brother, the Duke d'Aosta. \\Te saw, too,
the Khedive, the Sultan Abdul Aziz, a prince of
Japan, and I know not how many besides.
Subsequently the Emperor Francis Joseph of
Austria visited us, and stayed for some days at
Compiegne, where he held long conversations
with Napoleon, doubtless on the subject of a
possible alliance between Austria and Prance
which might enable them to withstand the
threatening enmity of Prussia.
The time spent at Compiegne was one year,
enlivened by the presence of some beautiful
Englishwomen whose- acquaintance the Empress
had made while on her visit to Queen Victoria in
[855. Ihe lovely Duchess of Manchester, tl
< ountess of Westmorland, and poor Lady Mary
. o,
MY MEMOIRS
Craven, a long way the handsomest and most
charming of them all, formed part of the joyous
band which arrived from perfidious Albion.
I remember that our Prince M. fell so hope-
lessly in love with the famous Duchess that when
she left he swore to follow her. He obtained
an invitation from the fair lady and, with the
Emperor's consent, spent a week at her castle in
England. On his return the Prince accepted an
invitation to supper at the Cafe Anglais. His
friends then proceeded to make innumerable jokes
of varying good taste concerning his recent
expedition ; they demanded vociferously that he
should tell them some anecdote to enliven the
supper. This is what the Prince finally confided
to them. His visit had been a fiasco ! It was not
that his inamorata had been unkind, not even that
the husband had been indiscreet ; it was a question
of accommodation ! The likelihood of a visit from
the lovesick Prince, needing foreign hospitality,
had not been foreseen. I need hardly add that
the story was received with acclamation, and that
the Prince was congratulated on having remained
a good and faithful husband, even while overseas !
One evening, just before my brother's marriage
to the Princess Salome of Mingrelia, he said to
Lady Mary Craven, " I am going over to Eng-
land next week to see about my servants' liveries ;
is there any commission that I can do for you? "
" Bring me back a little earth from Rotten
I20
RESTORATION OF THE EMPIRE
Row,' she reque Achille had a beautifully
carved jardiniere made tor her, and brought it
back filled with the earth she wished for. How
well one knows the feeling ! I have often longed
for a breath of French air !
I have explained win- the Empress was not
permitted to dance at the State ball at Versailles.
The news soon got abroad that an heir to the
throne was expe< te 1. The fair Eugenie was
enceinte. Comment/ How did this happen?
you will ask, when it had been affirmed that this
hope was little likely to be fulfilled. In any case,
by the grace of God, the skill of Sir Charles
Locock, a visit t. > Eaux Bonnes, and by what
other means I know not, the fact was certain.
It was on the 1 6th of March, 1856, that the
salute of twenty-one [? a hundred and one] guns
announced the birth of the Prince Imperial. All
night long the illustrious patient was in agony.
Dubois had no light task. Child-bearing at the
e of thirty is not so easy as at twenty. It fol-
lowed that, in spite of all his skill, Dubois only
succeeded in bringing the Prince into the world
by making .1 slight sacrifice of the mother, who
never completely recovered, so it is said, and who
for a long time had to wear a plated birth-belt, si
bien, que I'Empereur, en y mettant le cadenas,
aurait pu partir en guerre comme nos rois d'autre-
fois, sans crainte pour son honneur.
1 .- 1
MY MEMOIRS
I have just been skimming through a few
lines of the book written by Mme. Carette,
Admiral Bouvet's daughter. This lady had no
fortune whatever, and the Empress suggested to
the Admiral that his daughter should come to her
as companion and reader. Mile. Bouvet, who
was a very lovely person, was not long in making
a rich match, thanks to her sovereign's favour.
A certain Monsieur Carette — a man of no great
worth, I believe, unless it be the worth due to an
income of a hundred thousand francs — sought the
hand of the young lectrice and was duly accepted.
Reading the few words which Mme. Carette
devotes to the Prince of Orange reminds me of a
little anecdote which finds its place naturally in
here. I do not know, and, besides, it is not for
me to say, whether or not the Prince of Wales
had an affection for him whom Mme. Carette calls
the Prince Citron. I will not say, as she does,
that the Prince of Orange " was worth more than
his reputation." I will only state that he was
pleasant, witty, a good comrade, a good friend,
and, if I say a " bon-vivant," I must add that he
was no more so than those who surrounded him
and who formed the gilded youth of the Empire.
The Empress used to give him maternal scold-
ings, on account of his fastness ; scoldings which
he received with the politeness and good taste of
a man of the world, coupled with the wheedling
manner of a spoilt child. For who would be
122
RESTORATION OF THE EMPIRE
daring enough to deny the incontestable beauty
of Mile, de Montijo ? A ity which no French-
man can deny, sine- it was this fatal beauty which
swept the Emperor offhis feet!
It is to this charm of which Mme. Carette
speaks, and to her cleverness, that Mile, de
Montijo owes her twenty years as Empress of
the French !
t, having myself lived with her so often, 1
see as I read that the writer has ignored parti-
cular faults of hair, "t teeth, and of certain details
which exist even among the Venuses of to-day.
Is it that Mme. Carette has wished to immor-
talize herself by immortalizing the Empress?
Everyone knows that at Court Mine. Carette was
reputed to bear an extraordinary resemblance to
Mile, de Montijo. Is this why, in all the accusa-
tions levelled against the Empress in her book —
serious accusations against the woman, accusations
of ingratitude towards her saviour and towards her
friends — Mme. Carette has not dared to raise
these questions of personal delect ? Is it because,
beiiiL,r a woman, she has not been able to forgive
M. O' [?] for not having recognized in the Empress
a taste in furniture which, I should imagine, no
one would be prepared to disput
Madame Carette glides over many events in
'. ipoleon's reign, barely touching on them, with
a reticence which commands admiration. But
before the last crucial years she arrives at an
'-3
MY MEMOIRS
abrupt stop. Indeed, when one comes to think of
it, what could she say of this woman, whom she is
trying to paint in most favourable colours ? Did
she not lay down her pen before reaching that
fatal year 1870?
But to return to my story. It was on an
evening in spring, I no longer remember in
which year, that two Princes of royal blood and
a certain Duke, after one of the most gay and
exciting of dinners, betook themselves (I know
not why) to the Mabille Gardens, at that time
notorious for exhibitions of the cancan dance. I
am not aware of what then ensued. Perhaps on
that evening the high kicking of Rogolbosche had
been even more expressive and even less respect-
able than usual. Be that as it may, the police inter-
vened, and the poor Princes, as well as the Duke,
were haled off to the " lock-up." What was to be
done ? Should they give their names and betray
the incognito of the Crown Princes of two great
nations ? It was not to be thought of!
The Duke, therefore, resolved to sacrifice him-
self; he asked for writing materials and sent a
letter to a Prince who was a friend of his, begging
him to come without delay to extricate him and
his companions from their awkward situation.
The Prince (a relation of the Emperor, and, con-
sequently, all-powerful in such a matter) went
instantly to the police-station and liberated the
culprits.
124
RESTORATION OF THE EMPIRE
The Prince of Orange, one of the two con-
cerned, never forgot this service, and, in his turn,
able to assist the Prince in the matl the
ibaret " related by Madame Carette. It I am
silent as to the nam-- of the other party it is that I
bow respectfully to his incognito. I cannot ter-
minate- this without saying a few words about the
sad death of the Noun- Prince of Orange.
I was no longer in France at the time of his
th, but 1 have been told that he had an attack
of typhoid fever, that he was getting better, and
that the doctors thought him out ni danger. A
ball was i given at which he had promised to
appear. In spite of the doctors, in spite of the
sick-nurse, lie went there in very cold weather.
Alas! He had a relapse, from which he did not
recover.
It is said that the Prince had a superstition.
1 1'- always avoided any undertaking on the sixth or
on the eleventh of a month. These two numbi
so he declared, were invariably fatal to him. He
never made a wager at the races on horses bearing
these numbers on the card. 1 le was right, poor
Prince ! 1 le died (M\ the i ith at 6 a.m.
'-5
CHAPTER VII
THE COURT OF THE SECOND EMPIRE
Strauss— Visit of the King of Piedmont and the marriage
of Princess Clotilde and Prince Napoleon — Character
of Napoleon III — Example of his wit — Family dinners
and Sunday evenings at the Tuileries — How Senators
were chosen when the Empress Eugenie reigned at the
Tuileries — A Shrove Tuesday cavalcade— Sur la tranche —
Perilous gymnastics and inconvenient crinolines — Madame
Biadelli— Casabianca and his family — Madame Heine's
legacy— General Galliffet— His duel with Prince Achille
— The notorious Rochefort — Madame de Galliffet — The
Dinner of the Twenty Beauties— Princess de Metternich
—A Lenten Ball— The Comtesse de Castiglione— The
Ballet of the Bees— Tableaux Vivants— The Emperor's
escape from assassination — Gossip and scandal — The
shadow of tragedy — The mysterious death of Camerata
and its sequel— The Court at Biarritz— Letters from
Princess Anna — Her marriage with the Duke de
Mouchy
These pages are at best only a tangled jumble of
reminiscences intermixed with feelings caused by-
passing events, and so it is, as I read the Figaro
to-day [5th June, 1902] and see recorded the
death of Strauss. How the name before my eyes
brings back pictures of brilliantly-lighted rooms,
of happy faces, of joyous sounds of music, of youth
and grace and swiftly- flying feet ! I hear the
126
COURT OF THE SECOND EMPIRE
'-known echo mi Strauss's waltzes -oh, the
merry, laughing nights of long ago ! And now
the orchestra plays the ever famous waltz which
tells that the ball is drawing to its close — now
the cotillon begins— then the little hot supper
: rve 1 for the dancers— after which the curtain
goes down, more- often as day is dawning. The
ball is over only to begin again the next night,
and so on all through the carnival, year after year.
And year upon year, no doubt, the " Blue
Danube ' will still be played and the Strauss
waltzes will guide other feet in their mazy whirl,
though Strauss himself is laid low, never again to
give the signal ever so impatiently looked lor of
yore !
An old letter ! a few black lines on paper,
yellow with age. How vividly they bring back
things, scenes, faces, from the loved past ! All
seem to rise as out of a fo<j and stand before me.
1 hen memory rushes to the long ago and I live
again those years of youth, of joy, of gladness —
years ol triumph, Imperial pomp and splendour;
days of glory and delight, nights that ran into
day. A date and two words have set me dream-
ing, and I must try to tell all they recall to my
mind. The date is 1859 — the words Guerre
dlla. . Still further back my thoughts must
take me to the autumn of 1S55, to Compiegne —
it was November. The King of Piedmont was
to be our guest. It was thought that a visit to
127
MY MEMOIRS
France would be the means of consolidating
friendly relations between Paris and Turin, and
secure the desired marriage of the Princess
Clotilde with the Prince Napoleon. Monsieur
de Cavour, one of the two great statesmen of our
century, did not, for political reasons, deem it
advisable to accompany his King. His presence
would give a different and more official character
to the visit. It fell therefore to the Marquis
d'Azeglio, a very popular man and the most
honest and straightforward — a very difficult
quality to find in politics — to attend the young
monarch during his stay among us. The Marquis
d'Azeglio was an intimate friend of my father's,
who, as I have said, was sent during a short time
in 1850 as Ambassador to the Court of Turin.
I remember hearing that Cavour had said that
the presence of Azeglio at the King's side would
convince Europe that Piedmont was not infected
with revolutionary ideas.
It was November, and some hundred guests
were invited for the Royal visit, many distin-
guished English statesmen, Lord Palmerston,
Lord Cowley, Lord Clarendon, and Sir Robert
Peel among others. The King was only to
remain three days at Compiegne. A royal hunt
was the principal attraction. The meet was at the
Puits du Roi. We were much astonished that
the King, instead of driving with their Imperial
Majesties, arrived on horseback like any ordinary
128
COURT OF THE SECOND EMPIRE
mortal. It would be difficult to imagine, and quite
impossible for me to describe, the enthusiasm, the
shouts, the noise, the confusion which announced
our arrival at the me The whole forest of
Compiegne s< I alive, and every tree echoed
back the cheers which greeted us. The King was
delighted with the stag hunt, with its fanfares and
old-world ceremonies, so different in every way
from the hunting customs of England and Italy.
On leaving Compiegne, the King and Emperor
appeared to be on terms of the most intimate
friendship. M. de Cavour no doubt had obtained
the result he desired. Cavour and Bismarck were
both destined to accomplish the great aims of
their lives — the Unity of Italy and the Empire of
Germany. But Bismarck, more fortunate than
< Lvour, lived to see- his work accomplished.
I ivour found in Prince Napoleon a strong ally
who exercised an influence with the Emperor few
persons could boast of. The Emperor cherished
a true and sincere friendship for Prince Napoleon
— friendship formed in the days of their youth,
which the Emperor n :ver forgot. The marriage
of Princess Clotilde with Prince Napoleon,
although an outcome of this visit, was not an
absolute condition of the Franco Italian alii. mce,
but the Emperor's insistence on the point made
it practically such. His quiet insistence upon a
desired measure or policy often resulted in his
gaining his point; but Liter there came the
MY MEMOIRS
influence of a will stronger and more insistent
than his own.
The Emperor Louis Napoleon's was a
character difficult to read, understood by few.
He will appear in history, to generations to
come, as a sphinx. He was so to us, though we
knew him so intimately. We were at Compiegne
in June 1861 when an officer arrived with the
intelligence of the death of Cavour. It was a
surprise to us all. I looked to see how it
affected the Emperor. I shall never forget my
astonishment and the far-away look of dreamy
satisfaction that stole over his face as, with a sigh
of relief, he expressed his deep regret. Cavour,
whose energy and genius had prepared the Unity
of Italy, died at the moment when he hoped
to crown his efforts by giving Rome to Victor
Emmanuel for his Italian Capital. So our occupa-
tion of Rome guarded it for the Holy Father.
Any one who knew the Emperor as well as I
did could not fail to see the perfect truth of the
following portrait of his character written by one
of his most devoted subjects, from whom I beg to
borrow it —
"When one approaches him closely, when one
sees him in his private life, as simple and as
modest in the sunshine of the most brilliant suc-
cess as the least and meanest of his subjects ;
when one finds oneself confronting this fortune-
favoured man, who is so distinguished in his
130
COURT OF THE SECOND EMPIRE
manners yet without the shadow of pretentious-
ness, ut i ill arrogan . ol v init) ; when
one sees him apply his high and noble intelligence
and his most upright and perfect go '. to all
questions at issu ily understands the
• his reign. Then again, when one
has seen him in moments of peril show him
the most intrepid of men, it is impossible not to
be completely won and (.harmed by him. But if
oik- penetrates deeper still into his heart and
a wit:. . the stn. i his .
against his natural goodness — stru. which
were always def< I ften i ters — one
pities this prince, so good, so generous, and so
indulgent for his inability to strike and punish
those who deserved to be punished. One under-
stands with what fatal facility this noble spirit can
fall a victim to intrigue, and one recognizes from
external as well as internal signs the secrets of his
errors, the weaknesses and shortcomings of his
statesmanship."
Does not this show only too plainly wh.a I
have tried to make clear in all I have said ?
I wish I could recollect some of the smart
sayings and witt) repartees of the Emperor. They
were many, but only one occurs to me as 1 write.
A large dinner-part)- preceded one of the
"Lundis' tin- Empress. Each week during
the winter season till Lent, there was dancing at
the Palace, called " les petits bals de l'lmpera-
trice," or " Les Lundis." On a particular Monday
the Archbishop of Pari, was one of his Majesty's
I 2 13I
MY MEMOIRS
guests. After dinner he and the Emperor were
conversing when the Archbishop suddenly became
aware that ladies in laces and diamonds surrounded
him — that dancing was about to begin. " Ah !
Sire," he exclaimed in alarm, " permettez moi de
me sauver bien vite." . . . The Emperor de-
taining him, " Mais, Sire," objected the Arch-
bishop, " voyez, je suis chasse" par les eJDaules."
The Emperor, with the quick wit we all knew so
well, then smiled as he said : " Alors les saints
(sezns) doivent vous retenir " — and the Archbishop
ran the faster, laughing on his way.
The New Year was always the occasion of a
special family gathering at the Tuileries. One
was busy from early morning. At mid-day there
was mass, while the afternoon was spent in paying
and in receiving calls. In the evening there was
a family dinner-party, from which none of us was
allowed to be absent on pain of giving serious
offence. This was the great family reunion of
the year. But every Sunday evening also we
were expected to be present at the dinner strictly
confined to members of the family. The Princess
Mathilde frequently excused herself. She had
no great sympathy with the Empress, and avoided
as many of the Court functions as her rank and
position would allow, while the Empress made no
secret of her coldness towards the Princess.
Sometimes, too, the chair reserved beside her
Majesty for Prince Napoleon was vacant. But I
132
COURT OF THE SECOND EMPIRE
had not the privi enting m :id
every Sunday evening I was obliged to take my
place at the table. Oh ! the boredom of the
Ltherings, which 1 g tiety and life, which
were lutel) void of witt versation, and in
which there was no thought sa\ to who should
have pr< —a struggle which was renewed
. during the fifty-two weeks ol the
r! How tired 1 grew of all the jealousy, ol
the empty life, the formality, of these Court
intrig tty vexations! Only
when the hour came to retire could I breathe
freely !
After dinner it was more agreeable, for other
people were received, and something amusing
would happen. The Empress used to go into her
favourite corner of the drawing-room, and there,
surrounded by her most intimate friends, she
used to get the Prefect of Police to tell anec-
dot< The Prefect's tales, as you may imagine,
were highly spiced ; and her Majesty enjoyed the
most adventurous situations. The more highly
flavoured was the story, the more did our
Sovereign appreciate it.
There was music, of course. Sometimes we
play< d at hide-and-seek, hunt the slipper or blind
man's buff, sometimes at "clumps," or guessed
riddles, of which her Majesty was particularly
fond. Eugenie de Montijo always had the
reputation ol possessing a ready, if somewhat
MY MEMOIRS
cruel, wit. This attribute did not desert her
when she attained Imperial rank. It contributed
greatly to the gaiety of the Court, but to it she
surely owed her most influential enemies. Many
anecdotes narrated in this connection are exag-
gerated or wholly invented, but one instance I
remember of a jest, too indelicate for publication,
which, originating from the Empress herself,
went the rounds of the Court circles, and had
the effect of keeping Baron Haussmann away
from the Tuileries for a considerable time.
These references to the Sunday evening
entertainments at the Tuileries bring back an
incident to my memory. There was to be a
nomination of senators, and the number of
vacancies was limited to three or four seats. The
list of candidates was a long one, for the Empress,
the ministers, the male and female favourites, all
had their own man in mind. One Sunday night
the Emperor drew from his pocket a list of the
most fancied candidates, among whose names was
that of M. Prosper Merimee, a protege of the
Empress, for the honour. I say " a protege of the
Empress," for that, I believe, was his sole claim
to the Emperor's choice. What was to be done ?
Some had incontestable rights to favour, others
had the favour without the rights. Suddenly the
Empress decided the matter. Taking a hat
belonging to one of the gentlemen, she wrote with
her own hand all the names on little slips of
i34
COURT OF THE SECOND EMPIRE
paj Th- ; in the hat, which she
handed to the Emperor. He drew a name.
Fortune once more favouring beauty, he held that
of Pi M ::mee. That is how the gi
dignitari I State appointed when the
Empr E nvd at the Tuileries. Why
:ak of merit? Wit was the only requisite —
especially the wit which enabled a man to please
the Empres
I had spent part of the winter and spring of
1865 in Italy. We came back to Paris at the
end of the carnival. The Duke de Morny had
just died and the Court was plunged in grief.
The Empress, who only thought of fetes and
amusements, asked herself what was to be done
r Shrove Tuesday, without balls, fancy dress,
or masks. A council was held. I can still see
her surrounded by her intimate friends at about
five o'( lock the hour of tea, served in her study.
It was the same study which a few hours before
had been littered with all the private papers of
M. de Morny, seized by order of the Empress.
Suddenly in her natural exuberance of
spirits, her Majesty had a (plaint idea ; doubtless
some fancy, a memory of her bohemian youth
passed through her brain. Sitting astride a chair
and grasping it-, side bars as if they were the
reins <>f a hi he by hep looks invited tl
others to do the same. Soon ladies and gentle
men alike mounted their w A<-\\ steeds, and a
135
MY MEMOIRS
regular Shrove Tuesday cavalcade ensued, going
round and round the large room after the
Empress, to the accompaniment of the trumpet-
ing and boisterous calls of the hunting-field.
There was no fatted ox, even Cupid was absent,
but the enthusiasm of the mimic chase was at its
height when a little door was heard to turn on its
hinges and a huge setter dog rushed up the little
spiral staircase and bounded into the room. It
was the forerunner of his Majesty the Emperor !
As if by magic, there was a dead silence. The
ladies returned demurely to their arm-chairs, the
men stood upright to salute — all save one, who
would not face the master with deception. Hence
poor Dupuy was hastily pushed under the table,
which was covered by a large cloth reaching to
the floor ! The Emperor entered, made amiable
remarks to those around him. There was a
glance for Madame Walewska, a smile for
Madame de Cadore, a kindly word for the Princess
Anna Murat, while we all trembled, watching
Nero's inconvenient persistence in scenting out
his hidden quarry and standing " on point " at
the table to attract the attention of his master,
who suspected nothing as yet. What was to be
done? The Emperor had to be enticed away at
all costs, and one of the ladies sacrificed herself.
As far as my memory serves me, it was Madame
de Persigny. In any case, I shall injure no one
by naming her. On prite aux riches.
136
COURT OF THE SECOND EMPIRE
And that is how Shrove Tuesday was c<
brated at the 1 of the Tuileries in 1865.
I could tell many anecdotes of this nature to
illustrate the levity which underlay the formalities
of the Court. I can no longer remember th
but we were at Fontainebleau in the springtime.
We were en ' in .1 paper-chase, and the man
wh<> is called " the fox " had done his work so well
that we who were "the hounds' had strayed
1 long way from the chateau and were; utterly
tired out with running. I still seem to feel my
poor legs scarcely bearing my weight, while- the
Empress, wearing high heels, was obviously
exhausted. Suddenly I saw Comte de Castel-
bajac, and another man, perhaps the Marquis de
roulongeon, bringing forward a long branch from
one of the trees. Going down on their knees and
placing the bough between them across their
shoulders, they invited the Empress to take her
seat upon it. This she did readily, and rode it
astride at that ! Certainly she is a plucky woman,
for she rode back the whole way to the chateau
like this, without uttering a single sigh or com-
plaint. Nevertheless, the branch was not won-
derful enough to preserve the Imperial imprint.
Doubtless if it had done so, the gentlemen
would have kept it as an an. ient but precious
souvenir.
I had just finished my fortnight's stay at Fon-
tainebleau and gone back to Paris, when I received
L>7
MY MEMOIRS
the order to return at once. It would be going
too far to say that this order was pleasant to
receive. Nevertheless I obeyed. I arrived at
five o'clock in the evening and found her Majesty
in her dressing-room with Princess Bacciochi
and a few other intimates. She was in a short
flannel petticoat with a pink dressing-jacket
trimmed with lace and reaching a little below the
knees. She had sent for me, acting, as always, on
the spur of the moment, because she had just
discovered that Princess Anna Murat, who was
then only seventeen years old, had been (and I
use her own words) stung by a tarantula and
insisted on marrying the Marquis de Massa.
The poor Marquis was certainly one of the
many admirers of my sister, but the young
Princess did not favour him to this extent. She
used to call Massa her mocking-bird. Later on
he became the author of a little unpublished
comedy which was played at Compiegne, and the
Empress, who was a very good dancer, performed
several Spanish dances in a short skirt between
the acts.
Massa had a pretty turn for verse-making.
Here I copy an acrostic which he addressed to
myself.
C 'etait un reve hier que ce ton familier,
A ujourd'hui qu' entre nous cet aimable jeu cesse,
R eprends ton rang, ton titre et redeviens princesse . . .
O u le respect commande il faut toujours plier.
138
( OURT OF THE SECOND EMPIRE
I 1 faut [ tie,
N
le plu I Amitie.
I rem ' days at F< >nt tinebl
endeavouring ilm the anxiety of the Empres
to tl »ung relative having
any niairiinoni.il d iwards the Marquis.
The day after my arrival, a long country walk
1. It was not a hunting day, and
there was nothinj rticular to do. A certain
number ol the gu pted the walk with the
Em The Em] was working that il\.\
and did not accompany us. We started off on
this picnic lition. Her Majesty Eugenic
went on with her intimate friends Duperre
and company. When we arrived at the rocks,
it was si that ' hould lunch on the
grass, and during the preparation of the meal
:ry one wan f, more or less in couples.
As I saunt along, imagine my astonish-
ment at s the Em] A Ldame de Cadore,
and one or two other ladies climbing up a very
p path in the precipitous cliff Each lady, led
by the Empress, was supported by her cavalier,
who from time to time helped the difficult ascent
by pushing from behind, thus also preventing
retrograde movement and averting a catastrophe
n the wind interfered with the inconvenient
crinoi
' $9
MY MEMOIRS
I do not know if the ladies found amusement
in this, but I imagine so from the exclamations
and laughter which reached me. In any case, it
was a very amusing and certainly a very curious
sight for an ordinary passer-by to see these
perilous gymnastics introduced to the Court of
France by this young girl who had suddenly
become Empress, and who very naturally had
preserved the customs and tastes of her youth
passed in Spain in running about the country on
her mule with her young friends.
A letter has just brought me the news of the
death of Mme. Biadelli, sending my thoughts back
to people and events of long-forgotten years. It
was in the autumn of 1849 that I first made her
acquaintance. My father was proceeding to Turin
as Ambassador at the Court of Victor Emmanuel.
My mother, slowly recovering from a long illness,
was unable to accompany him. We were living
at that time in the Rue d'Anjou St. Honore.
M. Biadelli was the officer selected as Attache
Militaire on the Ambassador's staff. A true
Corsican, military to the backbone, both in man-
ners and appearance, and to the day of his death
— which occurred some years after the downfall
of the Empire as the result of a fall from his
horse — proved himself a most devoted follower
and friend. His wife was young, tall, and no
doubt some would say pretty — a brunette with
rather regular features and eyes, the most in-
140
COURT OF THE SECOND EMPIRE
teresting feature, brown with a yellow tint in
them, and, st indi it in her face like a poached
egg, the >rt of thing we in our flowery French
langu Lge call a fleur de tUe. Sh a
1 sican, daughter of Comte de Casabianca, ol
whom I have spoken somewhere as made use ol
by tli-- Emperor for the purj ol forming a
Ministry after the "deux Decembre" — with title
of Ministre d'Etat, what is here called Premier.
He was only a short time in . 1 fancy for
ns. Tin- first, he was too honest, looked
far too strictly into things and people. The
id, he had a lai imily in the woman line :
th: 1 unmarried daughters, who inter! red in
all political and matters, undertook to open
dispatches, to give orders in the offices, to the
cretary and Chief of Offic ■ ; a horde of young
Corsican cousins who all were given emplo) -
ment, and a wife, good woman, absolute cipher,
neither intelligent nor highly educated and put
entirely in the background by her daughters.
Madanv Biadelli was by far the most amiable
and the most liked. The youngest daughter,
then called "petite Eugenie" because young in
comparison with the others, married a fellow by
name Ferry d'Escland, a clerk in the ("ours d
Comptes. I hear of late years he has come
itly into favour. Why, or wherefore? He
helped Madame Heine in her charities, and was
left by her a legacy. The Pope created him
'4'
MY MEMOIRS
Duke Ferry d'Escland, one wonders for what
services !
Speaking of Madame Heine and her legacies,
an amusing story occurs to me. A very old and
intimate friend at Court, and one we all liked,
Admiral Charles Duperre, became after the war
un des intimes at Madame Heine's, and a real
friendship grew between them. Duperre, as
honest as he was poor, had hoped — perhaps this
is saying too much, yet I believe he had reason
to think — that in the disposal of her immense
fortune he would be remembered. He received
a beautiful old clock, with a line in her hand-
writing saying she had left him the timepiece
which had marked so many hours of charming
intercourse.
It has always been interesting to me to observe
the readiness of certain friends of the Empire to
take service under the Republic ; as in the case of
the Marquis de Galliffet when he became Minister
of War in 1899. There was, I suppose, a feeling
of danger ahead, and all parties saw the necessity
of making a sacrifice for the country. Otherwise,
could General de Galliffet have accepted office in
such company ? Galliffet ! how familiar it sounds
— and oh ! how strange it all seems to me looking
back — Captain, chef d'Escadron, Colonel — how
well I knew him through his long career ! He was
a great Court favourite. Many are the amusing
anecdotes told of this " Poseur pour la Galerie,"
142
COURT OF Till-: SECOND EMPIRE
who was .n the same time one of the most rede-
ly brave and daring of soldii He I :d
brilliantly during the Mexican Campai rid at
Puebl i •■'■ is lin the \o\ irt o\
the stomach. It is told how, no one being near to
give him help, he, with admirable courage, took
and held with both hands his protruding insides
while he dragged himself along to the nearest
ambulance. 1 [is life was in danger tor some time
— ice was required, but none was to be found.
When the news of his critical condition reached us
at the Tuileries, their Majesties were dining. The
Empress held an ice in her hand. She slowly put
it on the table, saying : M I will never eat another
ice till Galliffet is restored to us."
Some time after the gallant general's return to
Paris my second brother, Prince Achille, took
offence at a letter written by Galliffet in which he
wrote slightingly of a member of the Imperial
family. Achille sent his tJmoins, Col. Jerome
Bonaparte and Antoine d'Espeletta, to chall n
I - illiffet, whose own seconds I forget. Rendez-
vous was arranged for the next day. It was
a most anxious time for us all. Galliffet was a
brilliant soldier — my brother a young fellow just
entering life and about to tight only his second
du<-l. At the Avenue Montaigne we each had our
suite i it private apartments ; my lather's overl< toked
the Avenue, mine tin: Rue Jean-Goujon, just
Opposite where the great tire of the Bazaar de la
i \ \
MY MEMOIRS
Charite took place some years ago ; my brother's
room looked over the court-yard, and, as it were,
made the link between my rooms and my father's.
Looking out of my dressing-room, I saw into my
brother's. All that night I watched ; the noise of
the clashing swords seemed unceasing. I could
hear Espeletta's voice as he coached his pupil
for the coming fight. Espeletta was reckoned the
best swordsman in Paris. Great was our joy when
we received the news, sent by Col. Bonaparte's
courier to the effect that the Prince was safe and
that Col. Galliffet had received a slight wound in
the thigh. He was lame for about a fortnight,
perhaps less. My brother's first duel he fought in
a shed with the notorious Rochefort, who had
publicly insulted him in the theatre. The meeting
was in the forest of Saint-Germain, in the presence
of the Emperor and his suite, who went there
ostensibly for a day's shooting, but in reality to
watch the duel. I have heard the seconds tell
how, driven to the wall, giving way before the
attacks of the Prince, Rochefort turned round
and received his wound where the toe of a boot
is a more usual weapon.
Madame de Galliffet, a woman of most amiable
and gentle disposition, was one of the foremost
beauties of the Empire. Opinion was divided
as to whether she or Madame de Pourtales was
the more beautiful.1 They were both inevitably
1 "I remember," writes Madame Carette in her Souvenirs,
144
COURT OF THE SECOND EMPIRE
seleci.<-<l by the Empress on the occasion of the
celebrate I I 'inner of the Twenty Beauties, giv<
.a the Tuileries to the Emperor in fulfilment oi
a lost v. The imitations, SO Kir as i
feminine tion was concerned, were confin
to the most beautiful women of the Court circle,
twenty in all. Ol" t'. a half were French-
women : the Duchesses de Montmorency, de
Cadore, and de Persigny, the Marquises
1 tnizy and de Las Marimas, the Comtesses de
Pourtale's and de Montebello, and the Baronn
de Pierrebourg and de Bourgoing. Two <>! them,
the Duchesse de Morny and Madame Leopold
Magnan, were Russians; the Con Walewska
and Madame Bartholoni were Italians; Baroness
Alphonv I Rothschild was a Jewess, the lovely
Marechale Canrobert was a Scotchwoman, the
Marquise de Chasseloup-Loubat was a Creole;
and to these were added my sister Princess Anna,
a semi-American, the Marquise de Galliffet, who
was half English, and the Princess de Metternich,
who had to be included, not for her looks, hut
because of her incomparable wit. Finally, of
course, to complete the international galaxy, there
w.is the Empress herself, who was a Spaniard.
•'that I then [about 1859] saw the Countess de Pourtale's and
Marqu ralliffet for the first time. They fa<
other in the first quadrille. Impossible to see a prettier pic
than that of these two persons, entirely different in their
typ iuty, but equally graceful, lively, and elegant."
K M5
MY MEMOIRS
Princess de Metternich, whom I have just
mentioned, was one of the most prominent of
the women at the Court of the Second Empire.
Her husband, Prince Richard de Metternich, was
First Secretary to the Austrian Embassy, in all
the glory of youth and social success — an amiable
companion, a graceful dancer, a delightful causeur
de salon. Later on, he had come to Paris as
Ambassador with this ugliest jolie laide for wife —
the daughter of the renowned J ohannesberg wine,
Comtesse Pauline Sandor — whom he married in
June 1856. Young, clever, witty, ambitious, with
a daring, reckless spirit and a sharp tongue,
she carried all before her. She made the
brilliancy of Metternich's diplomatic career. A
great favourite at the Tuileries, she held her
influence with the Empress even after the
downfall of the Empire. Princess Metternich
was bon garfon, very amusing and entertaining.
Therasa's songs and Rogolbosche's kicks1 were
1 Therasa was a notorious music-hall star variously referred
to as " the Patti of the People " and " the diva of the wine-
shops." Her repertoire of libidinous lyrics, composed for her
by the poets of the Latin Quarter, included " La Gardeuse
d'Ours," " Le Sapeur," " La Reine des Charlatans," and " C'est
dans le nez que ga me chatouille " — a ditty that was for a long
time the craze of Paris. Rogolbosche was the real name of
Marguerite Badel, a girl famous at the cabarets of Montmartre
for her eccentric dancing and high -flung kicks at a time when
the cancan was coming into vogue. Her Memoirs, which
were said to be written by herself, but of which she had penned
no single line, went into six large editions in one year. The
146
COURT OF '111!'. SECOND EMPIRE
[ually famili md her burlesque imit
tions of both v. that th
rtisemi i if the
people flocking in night disguise to the Mabille
irdens and the Petit Moulin-Rouge. But with
all her reckli her love of adventure and
her know I of the world, she was herself a
model oi propriety, and her name was never
coupled with any love intrigue. She was a
woman of refined taste, a fervent partisan ol
Wagner long before his music became accept-
able tn the Parisians generally, and it is well
known that it was she who prevailed upon
Walewski to allow the performance of Tann-
kauser at the Opera in [861. She introduced
Liszt to the Tuileries. She was the first to
recognize the genius of the English costumier
Worth, who made most of the brilliant and
original costumes in which she appeared, and
caused admiring astonishment at the Court
entertainments. Her love of private theatricals
added to the pleasures of the time, and she fre-
quently appeared in the tableaux, short comedies
and charades that were performed in the Ion
Gallery of Maps at Com] Octave Feuillet
and Massa often i d her help in devising
ume consisted of l d intimate gossip
about women of her own < med d< ally
to prove that it is easier I > ride in ;i gil . than to starve
crust.
K 2 117
MY MEMOIRS
such entertainments. She was by nature gay,
and her gaiety was infectious. She was not
beautiful ; her nose was bad, her lips were too
thick, her ears too pointed ; but one forgot her
unloveliness when the Princess spoke, for she
was the wittiest woman of her age.
She was said to be eccentric. I should rather
call her original. She once shocked her more
demure friends by giving a ball at the Austrian
Embassy during Lent. Such an infraction of
religious duty was amazing ; but no invitations
were declined. Dancing went on until midnight,
and we were getting hungry. Suddenly the
orchestra ceased playing and the hostess, standing
in the middle of the room, reminded the assembly
that this was a Lenten ball, that Lent meant fast-
ing, and she warned her friends not to expect any
supper, although they might stay as long as they
pleased. We imagined that it was merely a joke
made to hide the fact that a supper would presently
be announced, and the reputation of the Embassy
for hospitality be magnificently maintained. No
supper was served, however, and the company
dispersed to get food elsewhere.
On another occasion Princess Metternich gave
a dinner to a company of Court and diplomatic
guests who, on their arrival, were amazed at the
behaviour of some half-dozen of her servants, who
not only announced the names wrongly, but indulged
in the most outrageous pranks. There came a
148
COURT OF THE SECOND EMPIRE
climax when th flunkies actually seated them-
selves at the dining table and opened their napkins.
But at this p >int the Princess broke into peals of
laughter, and it was only then discovered that t!
endin . aits were all young men of high
position and that the whole thing was a got-up
farce, which had its desired effect in putting the
guests into go< >d humour.
Her husband, Prince Richard de Metternich,
wa principal in a famous fourfold duel, fought
with cavalry sabres at Kehl in the autumn of 1S69,
when In- received an ugly gash in the right arm.
The encounter concerned a woman's honour, but
it had no connection with marital infidelity on tin
j art ot Metternich. Idle beautiful Countess de
Beaumont, sister of Marshal MacMahon, was the
cause and object of it. Count de Beaumont was
inordinately jealous. No man could even glance
with admiration at la bell-- Madame, or say a word
to her, without incurring the Count's displeasure
and arousing his jealousy, ami on this occasion he
had the temerity to call out four adversaries in
succession. 1 >uels at that time were seldom fatal,
and there were many men who held themselves
ready to risk an encounter for the sake oi~ women
whom the)- innocent \ admired. M. de Galliffct,
example, was a rec< »gnized champion of Madame
de Metternich, as Paul de Ca ignac was champion
ot the Empress, and M. de Metternich and main
others ot the lovel) I intess de Beaumont. The
1 i 1
MY MEMOIRS
gallantry did not imply any closer relationship.
Of the Metternichs, it must be said that they were
exemplary husband and wife. No scandal of love
intrigue or incontinence was ever breathed in their
direction, and the Princess, with all her reckless
buoyancy, was personally a paragon of virtue.
I will not say that such a reputation as hers
was altogether exceptional. There were many
women of the Court quite as free from blemish as
Madame de Metternich. But, on the other hand,
it cannot be denied that there was a large number
whose private lives and conduct would not bear
scrutiny. In this connection, one naturally thinks
of Virginia de Castiglione, who hardly ever
attempted to cover herself with a cloak even
of assumed modesty.
The Countess de Castiglione was frivolous as
well as frank, and in breaking the bounds of
conventionality she was infinitely more daring
than Princess de Metternich. She could take
liberties when no one else could. Entirely reck-
less of people's opinion, she sought only to please
herself by creating an impression. She was a
Florentine, daughter of the Marchioness Oldoini,
and she came to Paris about 1856, when she was
twenty, already married and a mother. Walewski,
in recommending her to Count Castiglione, de-
scribed her rather too flatteringly, I consider, as
"the loveliest woman in Europe." She had
beautiful blue eyes, rich, abundant brown hair, a
150
COURT OF THE SECOND EMPIRE
rfect mouth and dimpled chin, and an indescrib-
ably graceful and statuesque figure. I saw h< r
first, I think, at Compiegne in 1857, when she
was a guest at the same time as the surpassingly
beautiful Duchi Ma I r, whose refin<
an- and soulful face with its profile like an
antique 0 were a constant enjoyment to all
who beheld her. No one who knew them both
aid hesitate in according to the Duchess the
priority for charm and loveliness.
Afterwards I saw the Countess de Castiglione
frequently. The Princess Mathilde received her
with cordiality at her dinners and receptions, and
admired her beauty so much that she commissioned
Giraud to paint a portrait of her. The picture was
the artist's mast' rpiece ! For some time, too, she
was to be met at the Empress's Mondays as well
as at the Court balls and entertainments, both at
the Tuileries and Compiegne.
It was rumoured that she came to Paris on
une sort of political mission of intrigue, at the
instigation of Cavour, and that she had the
avowed ambition of taking the place formerly
occupied by Mi>s Howard in the amorous atten-
tions of the Emperor. That Cavour, who was a
statesman of discernment, should have selected
her as a political emissar) is manifestly unlikely.
Virginia de Castiglione did not possess the subtle
mind of a diplomatist. Her mental attributes,
indeed, were insignificant. Her attractions ami
iqi
MY MEMOIRS
abilities were solely those of a woman who knew
she was beautiful and took every opportunity to
display her physical charms. She danced well,
she dressed well, she excelled in the art of posing ;
but she did not shine in conversation ; she had no
wit, no natural intelligence, and even when she
made a desperate effort at verbal smartness she
came dangerously near to being impertinent. At
one of Prince Jerome's entertainments at the Palais
Royal, she arrived at one o'clock in the morning,
as the Emperor and Empress were leaving. They
met at the head of the stairs. "You arrive very
late, Madame la Comtesse," said his Majesty.
" It is you, Sire, who leave very early," she made
retort.
She took pleasure in surprising people with
her pranks and adventures. Her boyish love of
mischief was notorious. Her fancy of climbing
to the roof of the Louvre at midnight to hear the
chimes of the city was only one of her many
caprices. It was in her costumes at fancy dress
balls that she most succeeded in creating astonish-
ment. At one, held at the Ministry of Foreign
Affairs in February 1857, when Madame Walewska
was hostess, she appeared arrayed as Queen of
Hearts in an exceedingly ddcollett costume, en-
tirely open at the sides from the hips downwards.
She wore her hair flowing loose over her neck
and shoulders. Her conspicuous ornaments were
crimson hearts thrown as it were at random upon
152
COURT OF THE SECOND EMPIRE
the dress, some in positions that were d< ly
unexpected. The Empress, congratulating her
upon her achievement, added, looking at one of
the symbols which was particularly conspicuous,
•' But your heart seems a little low down."
She was conscious of the beauty ol her person,
and veiled it as slightly as she dared. In her,
people condoned audacities which in other women
would only have been shocking, as they did at
the carnival ball at the Tuileries in 1863, when
she startled the company by coming as Salammbo
in a costume of transparent imer, her bosom
and ankles as hare as her beautiful arms, of which
she was excusably proud. "Would you like to
see my arm?' she would ask, drawing up her
sleeve. It was said that she incurred reprimand
for her freedom in dress. It might have b
expected, for she was certainly audacious. But I
only know of one occasion of hesitation in admit-
ting her, and that was when she had the question-
able taste to present herself at a hall as Marie de
Medici, attired in funereal black.
At the carnival ball of 1863, to which I have
just alluded, the Emperor and Empress both
were die- ed magnificently in the Venetian style,
in colours <>l gorgeous crimson and white.
Triii' < ;s Mathilde represented Anne of Cleves,
carefully prepared after Holbein's picture in the
Louvre. One "t the most admired costumes was
that "I Madame Alphonsc de Rothschild, repre
'53
MY MEMOIRS
senting a bird-of-paradise. This was the occasion
when, in compliment to the Emperor, Comtesse
Stephanie Tascher de la Pagerie produced her
famous Ballet of the Bees. It had been rehearsed
for weeks, and twelve of the best dancers of the
Court had been drilled under Merante, the ballet
master of the Opera. Four huge beehives were
carried in and, at a signal from Strauss's orchestra,
the hives opened, and from each three "bees"
flew out, carrying garlands of violets, emblem of
the Bonapartes, as were also the bees.
Their Majesties were exceedingly fond of
theatricals, and command performances were often
held as an addition to the after-dinner entertain-
ments at Court. The Emperor favoured light
comedies and farces ; the Empress preferred
romantic drama and tragedy. The companies of
the Com^die Francaise and the Gymnase per-
formed at frequent intervals at Compiegne, but
the performances given under the direction of
Princess de Metternich were more popular with
us, and one knew the artistes so well. Even
more attractive were the tableaux vivants, for
which there was quite a rage at one time. In
these Mme. de Castiglione excelled, and she was
always in request, inventing some new extrava-
gance to exhibit her faultless shape under such
favourable conditions. At one time she would
appear as the central figure of a classic or historic
group, or the curtain would rise to discover her
i54
COURT OF THE SECOND EMPIRE
alone in some well-studied pose to represent an
emotion, a phase, a sentiment. She was less
varied in her ns than Madame de Met
ternich, le 1 than Stephanie 1 icher de
la Pagerie. Where she gained in grace and
beauty of ; ;he lost in expression. But it
h that she had a beautiful figure.
Brave Marshal Magnan's daughters often assisted
in these tabli tux. One of them, the prettiest,
I forget her name, was asked by Madame de
Metternich to represent the classical figure ol
Eros, the littli I of Love, a figure for which
her childish, roguish face and rounded form were
especially suit' Doubtful concerning her cos-
tume, she sent a message to her military parent :
•• Dear Papa, I am playing Love to-night (jefais
[amour ce soir). I implore you to send me all
1 shall need for the part." "Certainly," he
responded promptly, and ot course he sent her
nothing.
Madame de Castiglione was one of the pretty
women to whom the Emperorwas fond of making
offerings of his inevitable sugared almonds. (He
ran up large accounts with Gouache, the Court
confectioner.) At one time her name- was coupled
with his, as it had formerly been coupled with
that of Kin1-' Victor Emmanuel, and there are
some persons still living who might throw light
on the hidden incident of " the Compiegne night-
dress of cambric and lace,1 conspicuously
MY MEMOIRS
mentioned in her will. It was known to all the
Court that the Emperor's visits to her house in
Rue de la Pompe had no official or political
significance. The liaison was too obvious to be
disguised. One visit in particular was talked
about pretty freely, for the reason that it was in
connection with it that he narrowly escaped the
knife of an assassin. He had gone incognito in
his small coupe\ entering by the secret door
reserved for his exclusive use on such nocturnal
occasions, and was leaving the house at three
o'clock in the morning, when, as the carriage was
being driven out from the courtyard, three armed
men leapt from the darkness and «made an attack
upon him. It was said that the Emperor was
saved only by the promptitude of his faithful
coachman, who, assuring himself that his master
was in the carriage as yet unharmed, lashed
at his horses and galloped them in hot haste
to the Tuileries.
It is impossible to overlook the fact that during
the Second Empire there was abundant cause for
gossip and scandal ; but much that has been
written in irresponsible Memoirs is either wholly
false or grossly exaggerated. The Empress
Eugenie was herself too strict and circumspect to
permit any looseness of talk or of conduct, and
scandal was rigidly discouraged even if it could
not be suppressed.
At a ball given at the Tuileries early in 1865
156
COURT OF THE SECOND EMPIRE
. t oi the scandal-loving type dared to bring
int r of a certain ver . 1 1-
looking unmarried girl, daughter of one ol tl
functiona t the Court. The narrator declared
that the girl w as absent b he wa ipied
with her 1 born onl) a very few mornings
previously, adding unblushingly that the Emperor
was the father. One of the Empress's ladies-in-
waiting, the Marqui Latour Maubour I iod
near, and heard this attempt to ruin an innocent
girl's reputati< »n.
"One ought to be quite certain of one's farts
story like that," she intervened.
' i >h, but it is true," the other retorted warmly,
"the accouchement look place at the residence of
an intimate friend of mini
"You astonish me," returned Madame de
Latour- Maubourg. "And the more so since
there i i the young lady herself, dancing!"
Covered with confusion, the scandal-monger
watched Madame de Latour-Maubourg advance
towards the Empress. Presently a chamberlain
approached her to inform her that her carria
was waiting, and thereafter her name was missing
from the list of those received at the Tuileries.
The gaiety of the Court of Napoleon III was
more than once darkened by the shadow o\
tragedy. The- murder of the Archbishop Sibour
in the church ol St. Etienne-du-Mont is well
rem. -inhered. 1 will refer to another crime which
•57
MY MEMOIRS
caused more than a passing sensation in Paris
and which cast a gloom over every one who had
known the modest and lovable young prince who
was its victim.
I have alluded to the Princess Bacciochi as
one of the older generation of the Imperial family.
She was the daughter of the first Napoleon's sister
Eliza. She lived in the Rue de la Ville L'Eveque.
Her only son, the young Count de Camerata, was
beloved by all who had the pleasure of his
acquaintance. He greatly distinguished himself
at Court by the tact and ability which he displayed
as State Councillor. This position he attained,
not by mere favour, but through his undoubted
merit, which every one recognized.
One morning my valet de chambre came and
knocked at my door saying that they wished me
to go without delay to the Rue de la Ville
L'fiveque. I feared a misfortune. Alas! my
fears were too well founded. The young Count
Camerata was dead. I was taken in to see him.
Never shall I forget the sight of his lifeless body
stretched out on his little iron bedstead, the eye
blown out of his head, his fearful wound still open
and bleeding. But no ; I stop here. I cannot
write down the horror of that morning.
What were the facts of his tragic death ?
They remain a mystery. It is known that on the
night before, he had a private audience with the
Empress ; but who can say what took place at
158
COURT OF THE SE< OND EMPIRE
that inten i w »r what was it 1 h
are tv of the st( try.
The current rumour was that Camerata .
ply in debt, that he had speculated heavily on
; Exchange, and that neither the allow-
ance that the Emp :ror m ide him nor his moth
at the moment would be sufficient to
cover the enorm leficits that settling day
must reveal. It wa that th< r boy had
a very large sum : that he had to find 200.000
francs by the next mornin He was believed to
have had recourse so often to the Emper
generous and frequent goodness that he dared
not in th circum make an appeal to
him. What could be done? At the end of his
resources, half mad, he went, it was said, to the
Empress at the Tuileries and threw himself at the
t of her Majesty, entreating her help. Nothing
came ol it. It was reported that she received him
lly, refused him all assistance, threw in his
teeth the generosity oi the Emperor, of which he-
had, she said, so often taken unfair advantage.
Then, in a frenzy of despair, he flung himself out
oi her private boudoir, leaving her as a fare-
well the words, "If 1 Ai> not find two hum1
thousand francs this evening, 1 shall blow my
brains out ! "
Even supposing that these were his words, do
you think that the Sovereign was in the 1-
affected by them ? No, certainly not. 1 [e w
MY MEMOIRS
not a Spaniard who had spoken. He was only a
relation of the Emperor's.
The Count Camerata received no money that
night. He went to bed. He awoke early, asked
for his coffee, had his hair dressed, and sent his
valet to fetch a newspaper. During his servant's
absence, the thing happened. How ?
The Emperor was on the throne ; Camerata
was his cousin ; and nevertheless — thanks always
to her who decided on his life — they buried him
like a dog. A military van came to take the
body of the most amiable, the most charming of
youths, and they carried it away in this manner.
I do not believe that they allowed even a
prayer !
There is another version of the tragedy. The
two stories are not contradictory. I am not
prepared to say which represents the truth. No
one else was present at the interview in the
boudoir to say on whose side the appeal was
made. I have not access to the records of the
Secret Service, and if Monseigneur Bauer knew
all the details of the case, it was not to be expected
that he would disclose the secrets of the con-
fessional. " Three of us knew this secret," he is
known to have declared, " and two of us have
gone to their graves without revealing it. I shall
do likewise." But the mystery of Camerata's
death was discussed in the boudoir and the
smoking-room by people who were usually well
1 60
COURT OF THE SEC OND EMPIRE
informed, and the incidents, whether tr
were ■ ther in dramatic ord
It was stated i t an
important Court functi iod with the hand
ut a very . his arm, Camerata was
indiscreet ■ lv to her in Italian, " / /
you," in t< h that the . w ere o\ ird
• t The indi ' »n
— the insult, it was railed — was perforce report!
to the Emperor, and forthwith the young prince
was marked by the i t poli<
fl<- was alleged to have in his pi sion
certain letters addressed to him by the great lady
who had been the object of his too-public declar-
ation. The)- weir not perhaps of a seriously
compromising nature ; but it was enough that they
existed. The police endeavoured to r
them. Led by the zealous Zembo, they rai
his apartments in the Rue de la Ville L'Ev£que.
Naturally, Camerata declined to deliver the
documents or betray where they were deposited.
He was ready to defend the lady's honour with
his life. Adisputearo There was a struggle ;
and Zembo, his hot Corsican Mood being aroused,
or his zeal overmastering his prudence, shot
Camerata through the head.
Next morning, all Paris talked of the suicide
ol one "i the most favoured ol courtiers. It was
freely said that, not bein le to meet his
liabilities, he had taken his own life. We who
1 101
MY MEMOIRS
knew him were well aware that he was not a
moral coward. Whether he was really in debt at
that time or not, I cannot tell ; but it is certain
that his mother was wealthy. At her death the
fortune which she left to the Prince Imperial
yielded in interest alone something like ,£12,000
a year.
The Princess Bacciochi was having a marble
bust made of her son, and she requested me to go
and see this bust and give her my opinion as to
the likeness. I went, then, one day to the studio
of the sculptor. There was a beautiful young
person there who inspired the chisel of the artist
in the work that he was engaged upon when I
entered. I learned that she was Eliza Letissier,
an actress of the Varices who was known
professionally as Mile. Marthe, and who had been
entirely devoted to poor Camerata. She could
not be consoled for his death. A few days later
on, she was found dead in her room. In her hand
was a paper, not in her own handwriting, stating
that she did not want to live longer without her
lover. She had chosen to follow him. And this
is how, for lack of a movement of goodness, for
lack of a little tender feeling and human pity, one
may have to answer for two lives.
All the theatrical notabilities of Paris followed
the young artiste to her grave. The newspapers
announced that she had destroyed herself by means
of a pan of charcoal ; but it transpired that the
162
COURT OF THE SECOND EMPIRE
. i police had visited her rooms, and that sh
had stubbornly their efforts to secui
rtain documents entrusted to her protection by
her friend Count Camerata. What documents
were the
Whether there was any direct connection
between this double tragedy and its sequel, I
nnot say, but imm !y after the death of
I imerata, Zembo disappeared from Paris. 11
had, e : aped a< i the channel, and within a week
he was found under Hungerford Bridge with a
r in his heart. His assassin was Griscelli,
a member of the secret service, who had dogged
him to London, presumably with instructions to
avenge the death of Camerata.
1 have been told that alter the proclamation
of the Republic on September 4, 1S70, Gambetta
and Rochefort, members ol the Government <>t
.National Defence, were instructed to secure all
documents aban 1 in the flight from the
Tuileries, and that during their search they came
upon a photograph ol a handsome young man
whom the\' believed to he Count Camerata. On
the back of it was written in Spanish the words,
" One must know how to love in secret." Had
this any connection with the circumstances of his
death ? I \m >nder.
1 have mentioned my younger sister, Prin<
Anna, as bein it .it the Empress's Dinner
ol the Twent) Beauti< She was a great
163
MY MEMOIRS
favourite at the Court, with her delicate features,
sparkling eyes and golden hair, often adorned
with diamond marguerites, less brilliant than the
freshness of her complexion, and she has always
been the Empress's one acknowledged and in-
separable friend. Whether the Court was in
Paris, at Compiegne, at Fontainebleau or Biar-
ritz, my sister was always with the Empress.
It was early in the reign that the Court first
went to Biarritz, residing at a villa erected by
the Prefect of Bayonne ; but in 1854 the Villa
Eugenie was built on the terraced slope, washed
at high tide by the waves, whose spray often
lashed the windows. The rooms were very small
after the great salons of the Tuileries, and many
of the ladies-in-waiting were dismayed at sight
of their limited quarters, especially designed for
their accommodation by the Emperor himself.
" Mais, mon Dieu ! " exclaimed Madame de la
Bedoyere, as she was shown to the room that was
assigned to her, " this is not as large as a cell in
the convent where we were brought up." " No,
indeed," agreed her slim and sinuous sister,
Madame de la Poeze ; "we shall never be able
to squeeze into such cabanons ! "
My sister wrote to me constantly from Biarritz,
and her letters were sometimes amusing, while
they gave a girl's impressions of her surroundings.
Here is one she wrote on the first evening of her
arrival at the Villa.
164
St* /////// /'// //// _y
COURT OF I 111-. SE< OND EMPIRE
My dear Bi
I am in a dreadful state, I
terribl) Em ress to
allow me to rid ima
: not I me
to <1" an) thing imj nt. t, anyhow, I will
I am w. I tho ight ol you
I think 1 may
aim v 1 had timent of the matter. I
hop': that you ha ,
is i
VVhy art id, my darlin It is
n to be so.
Ev< : ly is at \< ur fe< t. and this [uite
i (word This
htful the Princess
Mathilde, Nap< la I
Brincard, Clermont-Tonnern ' Walkonski,
incourt, Walewski, in fact every who is
nice; one mis nly It would be \
kind ot" you, my de tr Bibi, t airs
1 mj has just sent me
some very hot in; . I must drink it at once
and th :. i to bed, in order to be able to
a performam that th men
are going to give to-night to enliven our I
ening. A thousand kisses to all.
Anna.
I do nut remember what "matter" it was con-
cerning which my sister had the " presentiment."
Another letter 1 quote 1 ■<■ < il its rel
a SUgJ i marr
MY MEMOIRS
Biarritz,
Sunday.
My dear Bibi,
We have just come home from the
inauguration and benediction of the promenade
of Bayonne ; it was a very fine ceremony, and I
am sure that the illustrious hole of a place will
take note of it. The Prince Imperial arrived
this morning. We went to meet him after Mass ;
he is very well. We have got a ball to-night,
but I know very few people, and I think it will
not be wildly hilarious. (For your private ear.)
Everybody in the house, so Marie tells me, is
convinced that I am going to marry the Prince
de la Moscowa. What do you think of it ? Per-
sonally, I confess I should not be astonished if
that were the idea of the Empress.
Her Majesty insists on my calling her Aunt,
so that I have begged her to say " tu " to me,
as without that I should never dare to do so.
There will be company here, so be prepared for it.
I have just received your letter and that of
dear Loulou, who tells me that you are an angel.
I hope you miss me very much. I should be
heart-broken if it were otherwise. I will write
to Mamma to-morrow, if I have time, for I can
assure you we are living at express speed, and
that we do nothing but hurry from morning to
night. There is hardly time even to bathe in the
lovely sea. Kiss Mamma a thousand times for
me, and tell Aunt Jane that I will write to her.
I kiss you as I love you.
Anna.
Write to me in French, they don't open my
letters.
166
COURT OF THE SECOND EMPIRE
At Biarritz ther s more freedom and le
display than at Compi or Fontaii lu.
Nevi rt :mulation of the ladies of the
< >urt was such that they did not tail to take as
many summer toilettes to th< iside as they
I to buy and find accommodation for.
The result was an endless amount of luggage.
That of the Prina ;s Metternich alone necessi-
:d a whole van for itself. Th tentation in
dress and je y and tl :neral rivalry in
display no doubt led heavily upon tho
wl means were limited, and an invitation to
a special Court function came often as a calamity
which could not L 1. One of the lady
guest the first series was heard to say, "I
have been bidden to Compiegne, and hive had
11 a ilour mill to meet tlu- expen The
rson to whom this was confessed remarked
that Madame had no doubt spoken the truth, hut
that she had, neverthi taken care t>> reserve
plenty of flour for her lace. Here is a letter ol
my sister's concerning som ;tra i\\ - that
were sent to her t.> Biarritz from Paris, with
which she was net altogether satisfied.
/>': at
, 430.
Dear Bi i.
What had taste I think you have ; how
could you think my di \ pretty .J They are
horrible — as for the . 1 shall he obliged
to 1>. ive the ribbons changed, so ugly is the colour.
MY MEMOIRS
Mr. B. came this morning to speak to Tascher
about his proposal. He told me their conversa-
tion ; it appears that Mr. B. behaved very well,
and said that the Emperor was perfectly right, and
that he had made a very serious mistake, which
he is paying for at this moment. The Empress
had ordered Tascher to tell him that the year of
mourning for the Duchess of Orleans was not
ended, and the Emperor declared he would have
degraded him, if he had not been the son of his
father — it was a little hard, but it appears he took
it very well. I thank you once more a thousand
times for the dress ; it is charming. Keep an eye
on the dresses that Mamma is going to send me.
Let them be pretty, for if they are in the style of
those I have just received, they might as well not
be sent. I beg you not to tell Mamma that I
think them ugly, for it might hurt her feelings, as
she wrote to me that she thought them charming.
The Empress is working with her secretary. The
Emperor is walking in Biarritz. The Prince de
la Moscowa is suffering from an inflammation ; he
has gone to bed, so that I was left alone with
Madame de la Poeze, which was not very amusing.
I wish you were here, so that I could chat with
you a little. Madame de Metternich is waiting
for Metternich, who is to arrive to-morrow.
Madame de la Poeze has a little Spaniard,
Madame de la Bedoyere has the Prince, the
Emperor Madame Walewska, the Empress will
be paired off with the Duke of Alva, and all go
for a walk on the terrace arm in arm, and I, as I
have got no one, am obliged to content myself
with M. Mocquard, or with M. Tascher — who
are both, it must be admitted, very amusing, but
168
COURT OF THE SECOND EMPIRE
really it is rather sad to have come down to that
1 will send you my letters in an en\ li ed
I think that is What do you
think of it ?
You don't tell me it" he has arrived, and if you
ha\ a him. The Empress affirms th.it when
Mr. B. was told that he was mad to think of
marrying me, he answered : •• It seems to me
that I am worth at least a Chassiron <»r a Cam-
bai They chaff me a good deal here ;
they pretend that the State Consul is in love with
me. The Emperor is to leave shortly ; I am very
rry for it, for he is so nice, so amusing, that it
will be very dull when he has crone — and. besides,
he is carrying off all the gentlemen with him.
Good-bye, dear Bibi, I am so hot that I
can't go on writing. I kiss you a thousand
times.
Anna.
The M. Mocquard referred to by Anna was the
Emperor's chef de cabinet and tor many years the
ipient of his most secret confident He w
a very tall, slim man with a long nose, very dark
;, and twitching lips. on State
occasions, he invariably wore a grey frock coat.
1 le kept a pair of American trotters which I
vied, and was a familiar figure in Paris as he
drove behind them on his way between the
Tuileries and the various embassi* His official
salary amounted to about ,£2,600 a year, and he
added to his income by writing melodramas. He
died in I )ecember 1 864.
I'Hj
MY MEMOIRS
A letter bearing the postmark of Constan-
tinople written to me while she was cruising in
Eastern waters with the Empress on board
UAigle on their way to Egypt for the opening
of the Suez Canal is quite characteristic of
Princess Anna.
Mouth of the Dardanelles,
September 20, 1869.
My Darling,
I wrote to you so hastily the other day
that I very much doubt if you were able to under-
stand a word of my letter ; but you must forgive
me, I had so little time. Mamma was going to
write you a long letter from Athens, so I have
little to tell you. Our journey is really delightful ;
the sea is a lake, impossible to be ill, even with
the best intentions in the world.
You cannot imagine what a hideous country
Greece is ; I pity the poor little King very much
— he is charming. We have had a surfeit of
attentions for a year, but Papa likes it ; big dinner
at Court, expedition to the Panthelicon, ball on
the French ship, the Magicien, reception of the
Corps Diplomatique, royal salutes, "partant pour
la Syrie," and I don't know what else — and to
say that we have got to begin all this again at
Constantinople. We shall very shortly meet the
mail which left Constantinople yesterday, and we
count upon stopping it to give in our letters. I
have already bothered you with a commission, but
it will be very kind of you to see to it a little ; but
I am anxious that it should be very pretty — it is
a tiny little pocket pistol that I want ; by telling
Desvaines that it is like the one that Cora gave
170
COURT OF THE SECOND EMPIRE
Achil will understand what I want. 1 am
going to see the p r old man ; I \.m not sure
that the pi t pl< me ; I fear not, for he
will wish to mi lize us and show us all his
It 1 i to Smyrna, I will bring you a carpet.
1 saw harming ns, at the h
<>t the Charge* d'Affaires, 250 frs. I kiss you a
thousand time
Anna.
The Empress was anxious that my sifter
should mak 1 man and the idea of the
Prince de la Moscowa being dismissed, in 1861
there seemed a probability that the Comtc <\r
I landres would be the husband selected for her.
1. ter in the same year, much against her will, her
marriage with — shall I say Don Carlos? — was
urged. Apropos of this latter projected match, I
receivi d in October the following letter from the
Empress :—
Fontainebkau,
October 26, 1861.
.\ 1 \ EAR (
1 expect to be back in Paris about the
first days of next month, so I shall see you there.
As for the project in man of which you write
to me, I am much afraid that there will be tOO
much insistence used to make Anna overcome
an antipathy of the strength of which 1 have my-
self been able to judge. She will lose nothing by
waiting a littl If nothing better vm\ be found
tor her, 1 am of opinion that she ought to marry
•7>
MY MEMOIRS
him ; but why this haste ? I cannot forget that
Anna has begged me to insist upon it that she
shall not be worried about the matter. A marriage
against one's heart is a very serious thing. So
you had better all consider, and I beg of you not
to come to any decision. Who knows what may
happen ? and by the end of the winter everything
may be decided. Believe in my affection for you
all. I embrace you.
Eugenie.
I find that I can receive and accommodate
you, if you will come with Anna. I have two
rooms side by side. I await you to-morrow.1
Greatly to my sister's satisfaction, this project
of an alliance with the Pretender to the throne of
Spain fell through, and in 1865, with the approval
1 Fontainebleau,
October 26, 1 86 1.
Ma chere Caroline, — Je dois etre de retour a Paris vers
les premiers jours du mois. Je vous verrai done la. Quant
au projet de mariage dont vous me parlez, je crains trop qu'on
mette trop d'insistence aupres d'Anna pour lui faire dominer une
antipathie dont j'ai pu juger moi-meme la force. Elle ne perd
rien a attendre un peu. Si on ne trouve pas mieux, je suis
d'avis qu'elle l'dpouse, mais pourquoi cette hate ? Je ne puis
oublier que Anna m'a prid d'insister pour qu'on ne la tour-
mente pas. Un mariage a. contre-cceur est une chose bien
seVieuse. Rdflechissez done tous, et je vous en prie ne ddcidez
rien. Qui sait ce qui peut se presenter ? et a la fin de l'hiver
tout pourra etre de'eide'. Croyez a mon affection pour vour
tous. Je vous embrasse.
Eugenie.
J'apprends que je puis vous loger, si vous voulez venir avec
Anna. J'ai deux chambres c6te a c6te, je vous attends demain.
172
COURT OF THE SECOND EMPIRE
of their Majesties, she married Antoinede Noailles,
Duke de Mouchy and Prince-Duke de Poix, one
of the most brilliant young men of the period,
with pleasant features, very polite and unaffected,
and altogether charming. Since the fall of the
Second Empire, the Duchess de .Mouchy has
been the constant and inseparable companion of
the Empress in her exile in England, first at
Chislchurst, and now at Farnborough.
173
CHAPTER VIII
THE FRANCO-PRUSSIAN WAR
Death of my uncle, Jerome Bonaparte — "The sou between
two Napoleons" — The Duke de Morny — M. de Persigny
— Conflicting influences of the Empress Eugenie and
the Prince Napoleon — Ill-health of the Emperor — The
Duke of Gramont's loyalty to him — The declaration of
War — Action of the Empress — The Prince Napoleon's
unpopularity — The Empress as Regent — Metternich and
Nigra — Disastrous progress of the war — The Regent's
messages to the front — Treachery of Trochu — Sedan —
Our flight from Paris — Flight of the Empress Eugdnie
— "Such a nice man!" — Her arrival in England
It was the month of May 1870. I had been very
much out of health all the winter, and my doctors
urged my going to the baths at St. Gervais. I
left Paris feeling ill and depressed — a foreshadow-
ing, no doubt, of all the misery that was to follow.
My uncle Jerome (of the Paterson branch) was
dying at Baltimore of the terrible malady which
to-day occupies the minds of all our great physi-
cians. I was very fond of my uncle. I had helped
nurse him through a dangerous illness in Paris,
when he would allow no one else with him. He
had a faithful old negro valet who often came
174
THE FRANCO-PRUSSIAN WAR
quite late at night to implore me to come to them
— when he was restless and could not sleep.
Mrs. Paterson, his mother, was with him at that
time as well as his son. They stayed at the
Westminster Hotel, Rue de la Paix.
Mrs. Pat( rson's quaint American sayings were
a source of great amusement to nut during that
winter. She was very hitter against King Jerome,
which was perhaps only natural. They never
met, and she always alluded to him as "the sou
that had slipped in by mistake between two
Napoleons." It was so clever or I should haw-
felt annoyed. I was particularly devoted to my
great uncle, with whom I often stayed at the
Palais Royal. He was all kindness, and I only
remember to have incurred his displeasure once,
when I was late and kept an official dinner-party
waiting. Mrs. Paterson was very handsome, even
when I knew her. She was rather disturbed
about her nose, as she considered it the special
feature of her beauty, and she had met with an
accident on board the steamer, missing a step, and
her nose was all scraped and bruised. Although
she was immensely rich, she was very careful of
her money. On leaving Paris to return to the
States, she sent her largest hatbox as a present
to her grandson. When opened, it was found to
contain loaf sugar, with a line from her explaining
that the sugar had been collected from the trays
sent to her room with her tea and coffee. She
•75
MY MEMOIRS
had gathered two or three lumps each morning
and evening during her stay at the hotel.
When she died she left all her money between
her two grandsons, favouring, I believe, Charles
the younger, who never came at any time to
Europe, and still lives in the family residence at
Baltimore. Jerome, after the war, lived principally
at Washington, where he built a beautiful house.
He died in 1893 at a place called Pride's Crossing,
leaving one son and one daughter.
My uncle's malady, which developed very
suddenly, was a tumorous cancer on the side of
the face and throat. Photographs were sent me
by his son that consultations might be held in
Paris, but nothing was of any avail. In this dis-
position desprit I travelled to Geneva, and after
a few days at the Hotel Beaurivage, celebrated
now by the murder of the Empress of Austria, I
posted on to the baths of St. Gervais.
On my arrival at the hotel I found letters
telling me of my uncle's death. My life was very
quiet, uneventful and full of rest. I had my dame
de compagnie and servants, otherwise I knew and
saw no one. I walked to and from the dtablissement
des bains morning and evening through a lovely
mountain road, the hotel being some distance
from the valley. I only made one excursion
during my stay, to Chamounix. I had never seen
the Mont Blanc. I found the hotel there crowded
with holiday tourists, mostly English. I was
176
THE FRANCO-PRUSSIAN WAR
cross, tired with the long drive of several hours,
and altogether disappointed and sorry for myself.
I slept badly in a strange and not particularly
comfortable bed, and woke to a morning of
drizzling rain and heavy mist which did not
improve my temp r. I watched from my window
the different parties starting forth for the exciting
climb, the women with short skirts, waterproof
capes and Alpine sticks. The afternoon w.is
without rain, though the mist was still hanging
over mountain and valley. I walked a short
distance up the Mont Blanc, just far enough to
say I had been to it, and returned to the hotel to
find carriage and postilions waiting to take me
back to St. Gervais. Numerous letters were on
my table — those from Paris telling- me that I had
better return. Rumours of war were afloat. One
from America, from my cousin, Jerome Bonaparte.
A few days after his father's death he received
orders to join his regiment, Dragons de L'lm-
p^ratrice, without delay. He was sailing by the
next steamer. It was now the end of June. I
was undecided, hesitating as to what I should
do, lazily letting the days slip by, when a funny
incident determined my departure. On my return
one morning from my bath a letter was handed
me. 1 knew no one in the place, and felt rather
curious. The letter, which was accompanied by
a copy of verses, bore no signature, not even an
initial, and to this day I have not the faintest
m • 7 7
MY MEMOIRS
idea who my unknown correspondent could have
been. He said we were on the verge of war with
Prussia. He was ordered to rejoin at once. He
was in despair that he should not have the pleasure
of seeing me again. He had seen me each
morning at the baths, where my gracious smile in
recognition of his salutation had won his heart.
He wished to say that if he returned from the
war he would make himself known, and asked
permission to be presented to me. I have often
wondered if he came back to Paris after we had
disappeared, or if he met his fate at Prussian
hands. How strange it all seems now, as I look
back through a long vista of years — look back to
see myself as I was then — when the sun seemed
never to set — the very air full of caresses, youth
and joy in my train. Was it all a dream ?
Meanwhile things in Paris were ominous. We
were rushing madly on to a disastrous end. The
Ollivier Ministry was in full swing — Gramont
was Foreign Secretary. Benedetti, the clever,
astute and vindictive Corsican, was Ambassador
at Berlin. Marshal Le Bceuf was Secretary of
War, Monseigneur Bauer confessor to all the
great political society world of Paris. When
reading a novel, how I dislike the author who
says, " Now I must take my reader back." Yet
I, too, must go back some few years.
After the withdrawal of our troops, and the
disastrous termination of the Mexican campaign,
178
THE FRANCO-PRUSSIAN WAR
someone said somewhei now remains
no further folly to ! nmitte But there still
remained the fatal war of 1S70. Who could
have foreseen it?
There is little doubt that the death blow to
our prosperity was the passing away of the Duke
de Morny in [865. He was the heart and soul
of the Empire, lie alone held firm against the
all-invading influence of the Empress ; an influ-
ence always so sinister for France. His loss was
irreparable. He died under the treatment of the
English physician, his doctor and his friend, and,
I believe, medical man to the- English Embassy,
who administered very freely blue pill to an
already weakened constitution.
In the early years of the Empire, the Duke
de Morny was, without doubt, the king of fashion,
of eleg.mce, of refinement. lie looked a grand
seigneur, his manners savoured of the old regime.
He was a perfect courtier, sparkling with the esprit
which is said in France to run the streets. He
acquired great influence with the Prince-President,
with whom, by his position, he was a great
favourite. He was also what people call lucky in
all he undertook. Had it not been for his clever
conception and manoeuvring, I doubt it the Coup
d ' Etat would ever have taken place. Persigny
was great only in his absolute devotion. Though
he contributed largely to the first building ot the
Imperial fortunes, a stronger and wiser statesman
m 2 179
MY MEMOIRS
was needed to complete the edifice. Persigny
had a casual way of doing things, and an inco-
herence in his ideas which astonished and did not
always please. Morny, on the contrary, was
thorough in all he did, and it was he who, as
Home Secretary, prepared and carried through
the Coup d'litat of December 2, 1851.
The Duke de Mornv was a natural son of
Queen Hortense, and therefore half-brother of
Napoleon III. His father was General Count
de Flauhault de laBillarderie, King Jerome's aide-
de-camp at Austerlitz. Born in Paris, October 23,
181 1, and brought up by the Countess de Souza,
De Morny was a perfect homme de salon, a. de-
lightful causeur. In politics he was clever, calmly
resolute, inflexible, but with a certain charm of
manner, a rare delicacy and finesse, which served
to gain his ends. He was the Emperor's most
intimate adviser, and his friendship with the
Empress guided her influence from the wrong
direction as long as he lived. Monsieur de
Morny withdrew from office on the rendering of
the decree which confiscated all the property of
the Orleans family — a decree to which he was abso-
lutely opposed, and which was carried through
the influence of M. de Persigny, who succeeded
him as Home Secretary. The Duke de Morny
married, in January 1857, the daughter of the
Princess Troubetskoi,1 whose acquaintance he
1 And daughter of the Emperor of Russia — dit on. It was
therefore almost a family alliance, and certainly a natural one.
180
I ! Dl'l I >l
THE FRANCO-PRUSSIAN WAR
made when sent to Rus rdinair
to r nt the Emperor.
She was young and ver) inating, with the
most lovely < den hair, and the darkest
blue-black ey< l '.; the evening of Morny's
death she thought him looking more ill and
suffering, and pleaded with him to be allowed to
stay near him. But it was the date which had
long been chosen for a fancy dress ball at the
Tuileries, and the Duke insisted on her attending.
She returned as early after the Imperial supper as
sible, but too late to see the Duke alive.
Her sorrow and remorse that she had been at
the ball when he died was so great that she had
the tresses of golden hair he so loved, cut off quite
close to her head, and herself laid them in his
coffin, and every day a cover was laid for him at
the table as if he were still alive. She was ill
for some time. When she was convalescent I
went to see her. She looked so altered with her
shortened hair, so delicate and white in her
crapes, seated in a large arm-chair with a small
table and tray before her. She excused herself
for receiving me while taking her broth. I
stayed only a few moments ; she soon seemed
weary and unable to talk. She was grieved and
distn it things which took place immediately
after M. de Morny's death, when breath v.
scarcely gone from him. What these things
were 1 am afraid I cannot venture to disclose in
detail. All I can say is, that if political questions
1S1
MY MEMOIRS
were at stake and involved the necessity of such
measures, they should have been dealt with by
the Emperor's orders and not by a woman's hand.
But it was by order of the Empress that all the
papers of the Duke de Morny were seized. The
most private papers, the most secret documents
were taken. Nothing was respected. Vainly
Madame de Morny revolted against the outrage.
The order was formal (official). She had to
resign herself and to await the hour for taking
her revenge. That hour struck at last, as it
always strikes for those who know how to wait.
Three years later, in the spring of 1868, Madame
de Morny married the Duke de Sesto, the same
Duke de Sesto who was the unique love of the
Empress Eugenie's life. The history of the
Duke de Sesto, if told, must be a record in other
pages than these ; but if revenge is sweet, Madame
de Morny certainly had hers.
De Morny was above all things reasonable.
But his successor as Home Secretary, M. de
Persigny, was a fanatic — madly devoted to the
Emperor and his cause, but impetuous, rash,
over zealous, excitable to frenzy, so carried away
by his feelings that his blunders were numerous.
Later on he was sent as Ambassador to England.
Had the Duke de Morny lived, would the war
of 1870 ever have taken place? I think not.
The Ollivier Ministry would never have been. It
was the first step on our downward way. Morny
182
THE FRANCO-PRUSSIAN WAR
gone; two antagonistic powers: the Empress at
the Tuileries, the Prince Napoleon at the Palais
Royal, fought to influence the Emperor. Poor
Emperor — the best, the kindest, but weakened
in b<»dy, enduring constant suffering with heroic
calm. Whose intluence would prevail was the
point at issue? The question which would decide
the fate of the Empire, the fate of France
The Emperor and Empress were at St. Cloud,
having this year decided to give up the usual
visit to Fontainebleau. The Emperor, whose
foresight and judgment did not mislead him,
alone of all his Court felt that indefinable
liaise cCesprit shadowing some coming evil.
He was suffering, tired, weary, despondent. The
public were kept in careful ignorance of the state
of his health. Life went on at St. Cloud inn h
as usual. The Empress had with her two nieces,
the daughters of her sister, the Duchess d'Albe.
The gilded youth that surrounded her as guests,
and the staff of those in waiting on their Majesties,
carried on their games and round of amusements,
seemingly totally unaware of the serious and
agitating rumours, the disquieting whispers which
filled the air, the coming events that were casting
their shadows in advance. Suddenly, like a cry of
fire in the night, the declaration of war fell upon us.
I arrived in Paris on the 8th of July : on the
i 5th war was declared.
The Empress was one of its most fervent
MY MEMOIRS
adherents. The Emperor, some say the Duke
de Gramont himself, deplored the idea of war.
Remember, the Emperor was now no longer the
powerful monarch that he had been. His wings
were clipped. All that a constitutional sovereign
could do, he did, but his endeavours to renew
friendly relations with Prussia failed. It was
said that the Duke de Gramont, differing from
some of the Cabinet Ministers, offered to resign,
and only continued in office at the request, I may
say the entreaty, of the Emperor. Seeing his
sovereign suffering, and trembling at the thought
of a Ministerial crisis at such a time, M. de
Gramont was overwhelmed by an immense pity.
The Emperor ! Yesterday so great, so powerful !
to-day so humble and imploring !
A Cabinet Council was held at St. Cloud
almost immediately. This was on the evening
of July 14. Napoleon expressed his scruples
and difficulties. He repeatedly asked his minis-
ters what guarantees they could offer him. Of
course, it was a guarantee of success that he re-
quired. He did not believe in the prospect, and
it was only a spurious comfort that he got from
Le Bceuf, the War Minister, who asserted that
the army was perfectly supplied in every respect,
and that it would not require the purchase of a
single gaiter-button for a year to come. The
war party was certainly in the ascendant that
night. They discussed the situation, they planned,
184
THE FRANCO-PRUSSIAN WAR
they persuaded; and finally a d with declara-
tion of war ted for his Majest)
signature. After some further discussion, the
1 mperor, so calm, so mtrolled, for mice
carried away by his feelings, rose from his seat
in strong emotion and, tearing the d with
violence, he scattered the pie( bout the floor,
left the council-chamber, and, gaining his room,
threw himself on a couch to try to sleep. All
was now confusion in the palace. The cause of
the disturbance soon reached the Empress, who
of late, for some political reason, was not present
at the State o luncils.
The ministers, in consternation at so unpre-
cedented an occurrence, were still debating, un-
certain what to do, when the door opened and
the Empress appeared. In an instant they
understood that with her aid the day could
still be won. The Duke de Gramont bowed
his head. He knew the day was lost ! At the
suggestion of her Majesty a second document
was hastily prepared, similar to the one that lay
torn in bits on the floor. The ministers now
implored her Majesty to "save the honour of
the Empire" — to obtain the signature! Little
wonder that, thus solicited, thus entreated, she
felt inspired. Taking the paper, she sought the
Emperor. Still on his couch, half-asleep, half-
dazed, he took the paper and signed as in a
dream. The die was cast.
185
MY MEMOIRS
I have said the Ministry was very divided.
Emile Ollivier himself was opposed to war.
Why was the Empress so determined to allow of
no concessions ? Some said her Spanish blood,
her devotion to her country, could not brook the
thought of a German Prince on the throne of
Spain.
Prince Hohenzollern and his candidature was
the ostensible reason given for war. Was it the
true reason ? I much doubt it. I have always
thought that personal feeling, the attitude and
hostile words of our Ambassador at Berlin, were
responsible for the opportunity given to our foe
Bismarck. The smouldering fire, so long re-
pressed, at last burst forth. All those, and I
was myself among the number, who had been
with the King of Prussia during his visit to
Compiegne, when Bismarck accompanied him,
could not fail to see the hidden enemy behind
the courteous manner. At home, the partisans
of the Empress fanned the flame. I have been
told that at St. Cloud, a certain general, in a
moment of rage, swore to break his sword and
fling the pieces at the Emperor's feet, if the
honour of France was not avenged.
At Tromsoe, en route for the North Cape
and Spitzbergen, the Prince Napoleon received,
on the 1 2th of July, the news that war was
imminent. He was in despair. Why, oh why,
had he left Paris ? To escape futile agitations,
1 86
THE FRANCO-PRUSSIAN WAR
useless political inti ;, he had left the
Emperor- th< nd and companion of
his boyl 1 and of all his lift He ordered a
gun to be fired, recalling his suite and officers
dis 1 for a holiday in din- rent parts of the
island. A ad now his yacht is under way. See-
ing the Prince walking the deck, sombre and
agitated, one of his part)- ventured to ask,
"Where are we going, Monseigneur ? ' The
answer came brusque and short : " To Charenton "
( B dlam) " as fast as we can."
In years to come, when the history of the
Second Empire is written and read, the Prince
Napoleon will, 1 know, he falsely represented
and wrongly judged. He was not a popular
man. Too cold, too indifferent, too haughty to
please the multitude'; too independent, too out-
spoken, too crushing-, to be liked in society : too
intellectual, too honest, too far-seeing, to be
appreciated at Court. He hated flattery; he had
few friends, but the}' were sincere; fewer still
re his admirers, but in my modest opinion he
had mure cleverness in his little finger than was
t>> be found in all our statesmen put together.
Through all his political career Prince Napoleon
felt the hostility of the French nation. They
never forgave or forgot his hast)- retreat from
the Crimean War. It is well known that cholera
broke out in the ranks; some said owing to
St. Arnaud's occupying with his troops a tract
187
MY MEMOIRS
of country against which he had been warned as
unhealthy. The Prince Napoleon, though not
actually attacked with cholera, felt the effects of
the insalubrity of the camp. He was so weakened
and ill that for days he could not remain on
horseback. In this condition he handed over
the command of his corps d1 amide and left for
France.
It is true that he was morally hooted by
society and by the nation at large. This one
act of his life cost him the confidence of the
people, and gave the semblance of a pretext to
the Empress and the Imperialist party, who,
after the death of the Prince Imperial, proclaimed
his son, Prince Victor Napoleon, successor to the
Imperial throne. It was said that the will of the
Prince Imperial designated his cousin Prince
Victor as his successor, and that therefore the
Empress had no choice or voice in the matter. I
am relating facts and leaving my readers to draw
their own conclusions, as I wish to be as lenient
and throw as little blame as possible on those who
have suffered so cruelly for their mistakes.
Prince Victor was now pretender to the throne
as well as his father. The party was divided :
Prince Victor and his father were political foes.
He left his father's house and established himself
at Brussels, the Empress and the Imperial party
providing the funds. In 1891, when Prince
Napoleon died at Rome, he refused on his death-
188
THE FRANCO-PRUSSIAN WAR
bed to receive his son. He had also taken
measures — although the French law dues not
allow a parent to disinherit a child — to dispose
of his entire fortune in favour of his younger son
and daughter. Prin< 1. lis, now General Bona-
parte in the Russian Army, inherited Prangins
and all personalty. The daughter, Princess
tizia, married her uncle, the Duke D'Aosta,
who for a time occupied so unfortunately the
conl I throne of Spain. On his return to
Italy, and after the death of his wife, Princess
I ia and her mother's brother were much
thrown together. They became greatly attached,
and, obtaining the assent of the Pope, they were
married ; but their married life was a short one.
The Duke's health after his Spanish "fugue"
was in a bad state. He died, leaving one son
by his second marriage.
At the time when the controversy arose as to
the right of succession, it was rumoured that
Charles Bonaparte, as well as his brother Colonel
Bonaparte, had written renouncing all claims or
pretensions to the throne of France. I wondered
if this could be true, although it seemed to come
from well-authenticated authority.
Remembering the famous lawsuit of 1861, in
which Maitre Berryer, tin: legitimist organ and
orator, and Maitre Allou fought for their respec-
tive clients — the former for Prince Jerome of the
Paterson branch, the latter for Prince Napoleon
MY MEMOIRS
— lawsuit gained by Prince Napoleon, inasmuch
as the American Bonapartes were enjoined to add
" Paterson " to their name — I could not quite
understand that any renouncement was called
for, unless their name was allowed to be put
forward as that of a possible President of the
Republic. During the Crimean War the Prince
Napoleon took objection to his nephew being in
the Army, and before the enemy, as "Bonaparte."
It was almost on the battle-field that the Prince
made his requisition to the Minister of War —
Marshal Skinner — then commanding the troops.
The question was without delay submitted to the
Emperor at the Tuileries, proposing that the name
should be changed " d'autoritk" by an Imperial
decree. This might possibly have been done
had not Jerome, on hearing a rumour, sent a
telegraphic message pointing out that they would
force him to resign on the eve of a battle. The
matter was therefore discussed in Council, and
the Empress — not from any love of Jerome, but
from her everlasting antagonism to Prince Napo-
leon— violently opposed the measure, which was
abandoned. It has always been a question in my
own mind whether this circumstance, as well as
the illness, had not a great deal to do with the
precipitate return of Prince Napoleon from the
war.
After the fall of Sebastopol, the Te Deum
at Notre Dame, and the triumphal entry of the
190
THE FRANCO PRUSSIAN WAR
troops into Paris, the Emperor sent for Je*rdme
and offered him the title of Prince de Montfort, or
Duke de Sartdne, at his choice, with an apana
of /"4,00c a year. King ferome, his grandfather,
had borne the title of Comte deMontfort in exile,
a title he took after the Battle ol Waterloo, on
iring to the Court of Wiirtemberg. [drome
refused both title and apai , saying he was
born and baptized [erome Napoleon Bonaparte,
and that (erdme Napoleon Bonaparte he would
remain till his dying day. And so h lid ; for
notwithstanding the lawsuit of which I have
spoken, he never took the name of " Paterson '
in addition to his own ; but, of course, in all official
documents it was bracketed with " Bonaparte."
King Jerome died in i860 at his country seat
Vilgenis. The funeral, as will In- remembered,
took place from the Palais Royal. The cortege,
with Prince Napoleon as chief mourner, walking
with a long black cloak thrown over his shoulders,
proceeded to the Invalides, where the burial
service was performed, llis grandson was not
allowed to take his place in the procession behind
Prince Napoleon, lie was ordered to the family
tribune, where all the princi of the Imperial
family had their reserved seats, and there to he
in waiting tor the arrival of the funeral car.
Jerome was the only in. m among us, every prince
being in the procession. 1 felt dreadfully sorry
lor him. I confess I admired his courage in
191
MY MEMOIRS
obeying the order, all the more that I knew, had
I been in his place, wild horses would not have
dragged me there. Of course, I reasoned as a
woman ; a soldier knows only the word of
command.
I had left Paris for a few days in order to see
to things at a small place I had in the country, not
far from Triport, on the ligne de l'Est route de
Strasbourg, where, a few months later, the Prussians
were destined to hold their sway. I found all the
stations crowded with soldiers, the passing trains
full of troops, all shouting " A Berlin ! Vive la
France ! Vive l'Empereur ! " as they rushed past
us. I held in my hand the Emperor's farewell
proclamation, so full of sadness ; such an under-
current of misgiving, of despondency ran through
it. No one could read it and doubt the presenti-
ments of ill that filled his heart.
Our Paris residence was 2 Avenue Montaigne.
The garden overlooked the Cours la Reine and
the Seine, forming the extreme point of the
Avenue and the Rue Jean-Goujon. When war
broke out I was alone here with my father and
mother. My eldest brother, Joachim, married to
Princess Wagram, was at Grosbois, my sister
Anna at Mouchy ; my second brother, Achille,
married to Princess Dadiani of Mingrelia, with his
regiment, Chasseurs d'Afrique, at Algiers ; my
youngest brother Louis, only eighteen, a sailor at
the Mauritius ; my cousin, Jerome Bonaparte, in
192
THE FRANCO-PRUSSIAN WAR
charge of the depdt of the Dragons de l'lmpeYa-
trice, quartered at the Champ de Mars—]
Militaire.
The Emperor, the Prince Imperial, the Prince
N n. and Joachim, had now left Paris for
the seat of war. Achille, leaving his wife and
child at joined Marshal MacMahon's
staff. Louis, recalled, reached France only to
come on to England. He left an Empire — he
found a confused chaos. My own days passed, I
scarcely know how, in feverish excitement and
tation of news from the Tuileries — from the
Champ de Mars — listening for the gallop of a
horse, watching for the first sight of an orderly in
the distance, bearer of dispatches.
The Empress was now alone at the Tuileries —
Regent, all powerful. In one thing only she had
been disappointed. All her charm, all her influence
had failed. Through Metternich and Nigra, the
respective ambassadors, she had hoped to induce
Austria and Italy to join arms with France.
Devoted as were her two admirers, the)- dared
not compromise their countries, their sovereigns.
Metternich reminded her ol Sadowa. He also
told her of his conviction that even the united
for f France and Austria against Germany
would have no chance of success ; he strongly
deprecated war. Nigra, on his part, affirmed that
the interests of Italy precluded any alliance with
Prance .it that moment, notwithstanding the great
JV3
MY MEMOIRS
personal friendship existing between Victor
Emmanuel and the Emperor Napoleon.
If we could have penetrated his inmost
thoughts, we might have read, " On France's
war with Prussia depends the unity of Italy.
Her troops withdrawn — Rome is ours!"
Prince Metternich, Austrian Ambassador, I
knew well in my younger days, when he was
Secretary of Legation, and I just out of my teens.
He was handsome, a charming companion, a
delightful danseur, but, as I have said, his great
and successful career was due almost solely to
the brains of his clever wife.
As for Nigra, how well I remember him !
Tall, slight, fair, curly hair and a blonde mous-
tache, with the face of a ferret, and the look
of a Machiavel ; an adorer of the Empress, or
apparently so ; always welcome, with petites et
grandes entries to the palace : an ardent courtier,
a dangerous friend.
Our troops were at the front.
On the summit of a mountain interspersed
with deep ravines and wooded slopes, on the left
bank of the Saar, commanding a view of the valley,
in the distance on the other side of the river, sur-
rounded by gardens, Saarbriick rose before them.
A radiant sun inundates mountain and valley.
Eleven o'clock — two hours since the fighting
began. Suddenly the great, thundering voice of
the big guns rends the air. Almost at the same
194
THE FRANCO PRUSSIAN WAR
moment the Emperor appears, accompanied by
the Prince Imperial and one or two officer He
LI .\ Min, with hollow cheeks and deep blue
circles round his eyes, his whole aspect <>n<- ol
suffering and fatigue. !!<• follows tin- movements
of the troops through his field-glasses . . . not
a word is spoken between father and sun. . . .
At last the Prussians are beating a retreat ! The
Prince ran no longer contain his enthusiasm.
Turning to the Emperor, he cries— "See, they
fly— we are victorious!" Alas! how dearly we
were destined to pay for this first victory ; this
little battle of Saarbriick, made so much of
in our insane determination to blind ourselves !
On the 6th ofAugust the disasterof Reichsoffen
t-11 upon us. With the news of the battle lost
came a private dispatch. Marshal MacMahon
was sending my brother back to Paris. lie had
carried the Marshal's order to charge, to the
regiment of cuirassiers, lie stood by and saw
them mown down like grass with a scythe. Fatal
charge — scarcely a man or officer or horse left
standing. For days and nights, the vision still
before him, I nursed him through fever and
raving. His wile did not arrive from Algiers
till he wa i ci mvale icent.
Following Reichsoffen, Gravelotte, one of the
most deadly battles, was fought iH\ August 16.
My eldest brother, a general in Bazaine's army
corps at Metz, advised the immediate return of
i9S
MY MEMOIRS
the Emperor to Paris ; his retreat from the Camp
de Chalons at that moment could have been so
easily effected. The Emperor, since our first
reverses, had been anxious to return to Paris.
Prince Napoleon urged it. He implored the
Emperor not to hesitate. The Emperor once
more at the Tuileries, the country, the Empire,
might yet be saved ! Marshal MacMahon
arrived at the camp with the remnants of his
half-slaughtered regiments. Seeing them, the
Emperor decided to regain Paris and give his
generals time to recruit.
Alas ! From Paris, the Regent and the
Cabinet violently opposed the idea. The Em-
press sent dispatches assuring the Emperor that
the feeling in the capital was so strong against
him that he would not reach the Tuileries alive.
In vain her true friends, in vain my father, in
vain Jerome, implored her to repent — to believe —
to trust them ; Jerome sought a private interview
and entreated her to allow him to go with her
despatches and escort the Emperor back to the
Tuileries. He swore to her that there was no
danger: he swore to answer for his Majesty's
safety with his own life. The Emperor would be
acclaimed, he told the Empress ; she was being
deceived by those whose interest it was to keep
the Emperor away. Fatal illusion ! Nothing —
nothing could persuade her. After sending
letters, messages, during twenty-four hours, she
196
THE FRANCO-PRUSSIAN WAR
insisted on sending M. Rouher himself to point
out how impossible it was to think of a retreat.
■ \ i n mj I idvance to the I in alone
the she declared.
;ht hours air t. A decision
was imp rative. 1 ■ ■■ » much time had already
t in wa iving the Prussians
the advant of rapid marches. Alas for
France! The Emperor was vanquished, power-
less. ' '< uld he have f i S :dan as in a
nightmare? fore leaving tl I Chalons
one of the Emperor's last acts was the nomination
of General Trochu as Governor of Paris. Trochu
proved as great a traitor as ever lived. In swear-
ing to protect the Empress, he said, " Trust me —
je suis Breton, soldat, et catholique! '
It was said that, finding all other arguments
insufficient to deter the Emperor from retreating
on Paris, the Empress wrote : "// you leave :
Army, all Pari* will say you fled from the dangers
of war. Do you forget that Prince Napoleon has
never lived down the rash act he committed in
returning from the Crimea?'
General Trochu, whom I have just called a
traitor, managed to gain the entire confidence of
the Empress. Almost his first act was to chan
the troops guarding the pala< Her dragoons
were relieved of their office. Jerome, horrified,
rushed to the Empress. Trochu's soldiers sur-
rounded the palace. On being admitted to her
197
MY MEMOIRS
Majesty, Jerome said : " Madame, I am here to
inform your Majesty that you are a prisoner —
Trochu's soldiers guard the Tuileries. You are a
prisoner in your own palace — I can no longer
protect you."
She laughed. "And am I not safe with
General Trochu?" she questioned. "I have
confided myself to his honour ! "
No doubt, if the Empress ever writes her
memoirs 1 she will not neglect to explain how
Jerome implored her to reflect — how he entreated
her to order the return of her dragoons — to
entrust him once again with her safety. She was
not to be moved — Fate, I suppose, willed it so.
Jerome was in despair. He came to the Avenue
Montaigne and bade me from that hour to be pre-
pared for the worst that could befall us — a revolu-
tion in Paris. Alas ! we had not long to wait —
Sedan was close upon us. . . .
1 In January 1910, the following letter appeared in the
Times : —
Sir, — The Empress Eugenie, wishing to contradict persis-
tent rumours about the publication of memoirs attributed to
her, which are to appear after her death, instructs me to apply
to the Times in order to state that she has not written, and is
not writing, any memoirs, and that any publication of that kind
would be apocryphal.
In requesting you to give this letter the requisite publicity,
her Majesty hopes to put an end to those false rumours and
make known the truth.
Please accept, Sir, the assurance of my distinguished con-
sideration.
Franceschini Pietri,
Secretary of H.M. the Empress Eugdnie.
198
THE FRANCO-PRUSSIAN WAR
The Emperor had abd governn
in Paris into the hands of the Regent. At Metz
he abdicated the command of the Army. A
4
sovereign dethroned— an emperor without the
command of his arm) was there ever a monarch
in such a p i? He knew that unless he
ris, all must be l< History will no
doubt tell some day why he was kept away — but
shall never know th< ret feelings which
mpted him to disregard the warnings of Prince
Napoleon — the \ of his heart — and obey
instead the instructions from the Regent — instruc-
tions forbiddinj n the: return of her son the
Prince Imperial. The Emperor wished to send
the Prince, already ill with fever, hack to Paris,
but this also was most strongly ol
I have no diary, no notes, no letters, to help
to precise dat Three are graven forever
on my memory -on my heart : Reichsoffen —
Graveli »tte > dan.
It must have been about the 20th of August
that Achille —now convalescent— determined to
send his wife and child safely out of France. He
confided them to Mr. Garden, an Englishman
whom In- had known lor some years, and who
red them the hospitality of one of his English
homes. Mr. Garden kindly accompanied to
England my mother, m\ sister-in-law and Aunt
fane, my mother's sister, who had never left her.
She was eighty-four but stronger, younger, braver
MY MEMOIRS
than any among us in this dreadful crisis of our
lives.
A summons came for " Lieutenant Prince
Murat" to join without delay, and so I was left
alone with my father. Guy was a great source of
comfort to me — his childish chatter was the only
diversion in our misery, though he was far more
serious than most children of his age ; brought up
almost from his babyhood with people much too old
for his years ; no romps, no games, no shouts such as
English children enjoy ; no noise, no loud speaking,
no boisterous laughter was allowed in his nursery.
My mother suffered terribly from nervous head-
ache, and the whole house was silent from every
noise. On this, Guy's seventh birthday, August
1 8, I had sent him in a victoria for a long after-
noon in the Bois. The Pre Catalan was one of his
favourite drives ; he often went and drank his
milk just hot from his pet cow. On this day, how-
ever, he did not reach the Bois. In the avenue
leading to it (Avenue du Bois de Bologne) his
carriage was run into by a clumsy, drunken driver.
He was thrown out, as well as the woman with him,
and brought back to me in what seemed an alarm-
ing state. His head was seriously cut, one eye
not to be seen ; bruised, swollen and covered with
blood. He was convinced that the driver was a
Prussian who had knocked him over on purpose.
He certainly looked as if he had come from the
war.
200
THE FRANCO-PRUSSIAN WAR
The doctor ordered us to have his hair cut.
The long i url • fi 11 around me — ti that had
reached nearly to his waist. He looked a sight,
and I wa vexed ! Is ii that
at a time when the fate of an Empire was at stak
at a time when a day, an hour, might mean exile,
when we slept .ill dressed ready for a flight by
night, so small a thing as a child's curls should
trouble mi : Y< i. I was much troubled, and,
ithering a few oi the fallen locks, 1 sent them
to Meiller, our jeweller in the Rue de la Paix,
who formed them into a cluster under glass, with
a silver rim. 1 ;till have them.
Da) 5 went slowly by. On the 31st of August
we heard of the Emperor at Sedan. " 1 [e seemed
agitated, restless, preoccupied; those around him
gave him from time to time details of the opera-
tions ol the Army. He walked up and down the
room unceasingly, answered by monosyllables,
and relapsed into long silences."
It was not till the afternoon of the 2nd of
September that we heard of the dreadful and
never-to-be-forgotten battle. On this afternoon
I was particularly nervous and anxious. Instead
ol our accustomed drive to the Bois we drove
aloiiLT the Boulevards to the Chateau d'Eau. 1
o
wanted to see the people and judge of the look of
things. On our way back, as we reached the
Boulevard des [taliens, we saw some one waving
from the top oi an omnibus. The carriage stopped
:o 1
MY MEMOIRS
and drew up on one side. M. de Chevarier, a
cousin of M. de Chassiron's, came quickly forward.
Speaking low, he told us of the dreadful disaster
of Sedan. So far, the fatal news was only known
to her Majesty and the Government. Every-
thing was in a frightful confusion. Chevarier had
been to the War Office to hear of his brother, an
officer with MacMahon. We drove home as fast
as possible and found Jerome waiting for us.
He attempted to see the Empress, but was not
able to break through the orders — or rather the
members of the Imperial household who filled the
ante-rooms and constituted themselves into a sort
of bodyguard through which no member of the
family, no real friend, was allowed to penetrate.
He was obliged to return immediately to the
Ecole Militaire. He left us with a heavy heart,
and the certainty that a more dire catastrophe
than had yet befallen us was at hand.
On September 4 — it was Sunday — about
five o'clock in the morning, an estafette came
thundering full gallop from the Tuileries. Orders
to leave Paris without delay. My father deter-
mined to remain till the evening train, in the hope
that he might see and be of some service to the
Empress.
As I write, the scenes come so vividly to my
mind — I seem to be myself — to live again those
days of anxious waiting, hoping, dreading one
202
THE FRANCO-PRUSSIAN WAR
knew not what — days now bereft of all feeling
the the longing to g< > back, tl
sorrow that I am no longer myself e it in a
vision of tl t a dream that has no morrow.
. . . Thirty long years have passed over my head
since then, brin great blessings, great j<>\
gre n happine irrows, too — griff for the loved
ones lost ; yet through them all, deep down in my
heart, night and day, there is a voice that whispers
with a sadness that knows no words, and I stretch
out my arms as if they were wings and could carry
me over the seas, back to France and years that
can never return. . . . Ah !
A knock at my door — a slate handed to me —
I see boiled beef, roast chicken, curried rabbit —
1 am on earth again . . . my visions have tied.
. . . The reality of life is before me. . . . My
brain struggles down to the ordering of beet and
mutton —with a variation of veal ; what old Mrs.
Paterson called "menial occupations."
On this same 4th of September th tes of
the Palace Royal opened wide, and the Princess
. in her barouche, with tour horses and
outrider-, as if she were going to some official
ceremony, drove through. Crossing the Place
du Palais Royal to the Rue de Rivoli, she drove
on through the most crowded parts of Paris to the
Gare de Lyon, en route for Italy. Some man.
203
MY MEMOIRS
running towards her, called out, " La Chambre
est dissoute— la decheance est proclame ! "
With an English passport taken in the adopted
name of Mrs. Fraser, procured from Lord Lyons
by Mr. Garden, with Guy, and accompanied by
an old friend who had been for years accustomed
to travel with my father, I drove to the Gare du
Nord in my father's carriage, with liveried ser-
vants. With the exception that there were per-
haps more people about than was usual at so early
an hour, that no hats went off as we passed, that
groups of people stood here and there talking,
agitated and gesticulating, I noticed nothing in
any way disturbing, and arrived at my destination
without the slightest hindrance. At Creil, my
sister, the Duchess de Mouchy, joined the train
coming from Mouchy. She stayed at Boulogne
with her two children. I went on to Calais,
where I spent the night in hopes the Prince
might join me. I had left him going to the
Tuileries.
The Government was now incapable of stem-
ming the torrent. The insurrection threatened
the palace — already filled the gardens. Another
moment and the Tuileries would be invaded by
the populace, shouting, clamouring, for the fall of
the Empire — for a proclamation declaring the
downfall, the banishment of Napoleon III and all
his dynasty.
The Empress was gone. Even while my
204
THE FRANCO-PRUSSIAN \\ AB
father was tryi his way through the
..J. her Majesty, I at last that she
could not rely on Trochu, wh ly the ning
>re, kneeling at her feet that if her
was invaded it would be becaus< rrochu
was dead — swore that order should be maintaii
that sh ls he lived ; seeing now,
too lat folly oi putting her trust in such a
man, sh< >ented to fly. Between Metternich
and N n Austria and Italy, with her
Mme. Le Breton, and a hat and cloak
taken hastily from one of her ladies-in-waiting, the
Empress— the Regent — was hurried along the
underneath galleries of the Louvre. ng out
on to the 1'lace de St. Germain l'Auxerrois, she
leant, thickly veil tinst the iron railings just
opposite the old church of St. Germain I'Auxer-
— the old church from which was given the
nal for the mas acre of the St. Bartholomew.
The Empress waited for M. de Metternich's
Lrou- ham. Nigra, fearing she might 1
nized, hailed a fiacre. As it drew up, a street
boy — gamin de Paris -ran by, calling out, " (
r Imp^ratVi ' Nigra quickly helped the
Empress into the fiacre, and gave the order to
drive to a house in one of the Faubourgs, where
a room had b< icured by Prince Metternich.
They had only gone a few yards when the
Empress saw it would be impossible to reach the
Faubourg St. Antoine. Mme. 1 ton put her
205
MY MEMOIRS
head out of the window and cried to the driver,
"Turn your horses and go up the" Champs
Elys^es to the Avenue du Bois de Boulogne.
Drive as fast as you can ! " They reached the
Avenue and stopped the fiacre at the house of the
American dentist, Dr. Thomas Evans. He had
attended the Empress for many years, and, indeed,
all the crowned heads of Europe. Such a nice
man ! I knew him well — he had tortured me
since my earliest girlhood. The Empress threw
herself on his mercy, implored, almost in hysterics,
his help. It was a serious undertaking. Already,
he feared, it was too late to attempt flight. The
Empress urged that she must leave Paris or be
arrested or torn to pieces by the infuriated mob.
Dr. Evans no longer hesitated. He ordered his
carriage, and, placing the Empress and Madame
Le Breton inside, he took the reins from his
coachman, and himself sent his American trotters
along at full speed. At a dashing pace he drove
through Paris, determined to gain a seaport from
which her Majesty could get to England. He
drove his horses till they fell — broken down.
Luckily, thirty years ago, post-horses could still
be had, and they were able to reach Deauville.
Not a moment was to be lost. They were still
in France.
Hearing that Sir John Burgoyne's yacht — the
Gazelle — was in harbour, Dr. Evans went to him
and explained the position, asking him to take
206
THE FRANCO-PRUSSIAN WAR
charge of the Empre I ugenie and her com-
panion. Sir |ohn, I beli was persuaded with
difficulty. The.- sea was rough, the- responsibility
at. I lowever, he at last consented and, taking
the fugitiv< t sail for England as
quickly .is possible.
After a very rough pas -the Empress,
fortunately, is a very good sailor and loves the
a— they landed at Hastings. All this I heard
later < »n.
Meanwhile 1 left Calais on September 5 by
the early boat. Mr. Garden met me, and we
arrived at Fairlawn, his place near Walton-on-
Thames, where my mother, aunt, and sister-in-law
\uu\ been for some little time-. My sister, the
Duchess de Mouchy, crossed from Boulogne a
w days later, made; her way to London, and
occupied a suite of rooms at Fleming's Hotel,
Half-Moon Street. Almost on her arrival she
r ceived a telegram from the Empress. "Send
ur ma ith all I rued. I have not even a
pocket-handkerchief"
The Empress was in England several days
without tidings of the Emperor, hut the l'rin
Imperial was with 1 We knew that the
Emperor had capitulated, that he was a prisoner
at Wilhelmshohe.
We were anxious to have news of my brother
Achille-. It had been his misfortune to carry, by
the Emperor's orders, the white flag through the
207
MY MEMOIRS
streets of Sedan. He was taken prisoner to
Germany, and never left the Emperor. The
Prince Imperial was safe — Commandant Duperre"
had charge of him, and was able to reach Arsenes
on the road to Landriens. It was there, at an inn
just out of the town, that they heard of the battle
— of the capitulation — of the Emperor, prisoner
of the King of Prussia. The poor little Prince,
ill, scarcely able to stand with fatigue, implored
Duperr£ to retrace their steps. He must join
the Emperor. " Duperr£, why am I here ?
They are fighting. I want to return to the Army.
I must fight, too. I am not ill. I am well. I
must go back. I must fight ! " Saying this, he
tried to stand up, but his strength failed him and
he fell back in his chair.
At this moment, a dispatch arrived from the
Emperor. " Je suis prisonnier du Roi de Prusse.
Emmenez le Prince en Angleterre." This
telegram, sent two days before, never reached
Arsenes till the morning of the 4th of September.
A carriage, or rather a one-horse conveyance,
was procured, and the Prince, in slight disguise,
left, escorted by Duperre- — almost at the same
moment that the Empress entered the fiacre that
was to take her to the house of Dr. Evans.
About midnight the Prince, with Duperr£ and
Adolphe Clary, reached Namur. He spent the
night at the Chateau de Chimay, house of the
governor of the province. Leaving Namur, they
208
THE FRANCO-PRUSSIAN \\ AK
reached Ostend ontheevenin I the 5th. Tl
stayed the ni it the 1 Idtel d'Allen
In the Prin if health some hour
were indispensable. On the 6th they took the
it tor Dover and went on to Hastings to meet
the Empress.
ircely a month had elapsed since he left the
Palace of St. Cloud -a proud and happy boy.
He little dreamt he was going to defeat . . . to
ruin . . . t 1 exil •. . . .
209
CHAPTER IX
EXILES IN ENGLAND
Camden Place, Chislehurst — Miss Howard — The Emperor a
prisoner of war — The Prussians in possession — Prince
Leopold v. Hohenzollern — Buzenval — Monseigneur Bauer
— Paris in London — The Princess Mathilde — The Empress's
suite at Chislehurst — The price of a horse — The Empress
visits the prisoner at Wilhelmshohe — General Bourbaki —
Marshal Bazaine's plan to place the Prince Imperial on the
throne rejected by the Empress — Her policy discussed —
A winter shooting party — " Brab " a».I others — Lord
Granville's solicitude — The ex-Emperor's release and retreat
to England — Mr. Gladstone — A railway adventure — Princess
Metternich
At Fairlawn we had a restless, unsettled life.
My father had taken rooms, a first floor in Half-
Moon Street. Part of my days were spent with
him. My sister was to find a suitable residence
for the Empress. We visited a great number of
country places. The one we preferred belonged
to the Sassoons, a pretty place near Weybridge.
It was all settled and the agreement nearly signed
when the Empress wrote to say she had decided
on a house offered her by a Mr. Strode, who had
known the Emperor well when Prince Louis
Napoleon, and who urged the acceptance of
Camden Place, Chislehurst, at a nominal rent.
2IO
! Ill I Mil 1 III
EXILES IX ENGLAND
Mr. Strode had been tru nd guardian to
a very beautiful and wealthy young woman, a
Miss II iward, wh Lcquaintance Trine- Louis
Napoleon ma he lived in England. Her
real name was Elizabeth Ann Haryett. Wh)
she assumed the name Howard 1 do not know.
I ler London house was the re rt oi many fashion-
able men of the time, th 1 I ike of B< . ifort, the
Earl of Chesterfield, the Earl of Malmesbury, and
Count d'Orsay being among others of her favoun d
admirers. She was a woman of exquisite pro-
portions and classic beauty, with regular featun
and magnificent shoulders. Louis Napoleon first
met her, 1 I elieve, at the house of Lady Blessin
ton in Kensington, and was at once attracted by
her. Siie put her wealth, as well as her person, at
his disposal, and advanced large sums of mom .
towards the equipment of his historic adventure
at Boulogne. She is said to have visited him
when he was a prisoner in the fortress of Ham,
and on his escape their liaison was renewed. She
followed his fortunes to Paris when the Revolution
of [848 and the fall of Louis Philippe opened
the doors of France to the exiled. She resid<
at first at the Hotel Meurice in the Rue de
Rivoli, but afterwards, when the Prince became
President, a little house in the Rue de Cirque,
near the Elysde, was provided for her and here
N ipoleon spent many evenings, and met his
intimal Few women were found there, but
02 -01
MY MEMOIRS
several Englishmen, among them the Marquis
of Hertford, were often visitors. Miss Howard
never made her appearance in official or family
entertainments. She accompanied the President,
however, in all his tours through the provinces,
having her private suite and escort. She was made
much of by all courtiers, and liked by most of the
Princes of the family. Recognizing the futility of
aspiring to a higher position, she intimated that
she would favour an alliance between the Prince-
President and myself. I suppose it might have
been seriously thought of, but I was then — end of
1849 — just sixteen. The idea of marrying the
Prince filled me with dismay. He was not young,
he was not handsome, he danced badly, had no
ear for music, could never keep time or measure.
I was qualified by Miss Howard as cette petite
sotte who might be one day Empress of the
French : the last thing in the world I should ever
have wished to be. After the Coup dEtat Miss
Howard was given the title of Countess de
Beauregard, two millions of francs, a beautiful
place at La Belle St. Cloud, called " Beauregard,"
and an allowance of some thousands a year. In
1854, a year after the wedding of the Emperor,
she married Mr. Clarence Trelawney, an officer
in the Austrian Army.1 Her marriage, however,
ended in a divorce. She died in 1865.
1 " One night I went to the opera with Cardigan, and we
saw Mr. and Mrs. Clarence Trelawney in a box. Mrs. Trelawney
212
EXILES IN ENGLAND
Her former guardian, Mr. Strode, was a
constant visitor in Paris. When he bought and
restored Camden Place, he is supposed to hive
id that he did so foreseeing that the day would
com-: when it would be required lor the fallen
Emperor. The place had been unlet for several
years. I have heard a legend that an old couj
to whom the house belon fed had been one night
mysteriously murdered, it was supposed by their
only son, with the aid of their one servant, but
nothing could be proved against them. I he
Empress occupied, 1 believe, at Camden Place,
the room in which this double murder was
committed. It is said that these circumstances
being told at Chislehurst cast an additional
"Om over the first days of their arrival in their
new abode.
Mr. Garden offered to be the b< arer of letters
and dispatches to Wilhelmshohe, and his offer
was accepted. He took a friend with him, and
.it his own expense made his way to Germany.
was the famous Mis 11 fvard, once the mistress of Louis
Napoleon, who paid her ^250,000 when he renounced her
to marry Euge'ne de Montijo. Mis. Trelawney annoyed the
Emperor and Empress as much as she dared by sitting opposite
the Royal box at the opera and driving almost immediately
behind them in the B i de Boulogne. She was a very fat
man, and her oint in . to such an extent that
thi of her carriage had to be enlarged to allow her to
in and out with comfort." — My Recollections, by the Countess of
< Cardigan, p. 104.
213
MY MEMOIRS
He was allowed to go to the Emperor, whom he
found very ill and suffering. He brought letters
back to the Empress, and also letters from my
brother, telling us of the pain the Emperor was
in day and night, both physical and moral. They
were so miserable themselves that they did not
know how to cheer him. Mr. Garden said that
Achille read to the Emperor for hours together.
The book he read — strange to say — was Alex-
andre Dumas' Trots Mousquetaires. The Emperor
had never heard of it, and finding the book at
Wilhelmshohe, my brother read it to him, reading
for hours without stopping, when it seemed to
soothe the nerves and take the prisoner's mind
away — for a time at least — from the remembrance
of Sedan. He could not forgive himself that he
was still alive. He had vainly sought death all
through that agonizing day.
The Empress and my sister had both sent
their most valuable jewels to Mr. Gladstone for
safe keeping long before the fatal 4th of Septem-
ber ; but many of their personal possessions had
been left behind. The Duke of Hamilton offered
to go to France. He crossed in his yacht, the
Thistle, and applied to General Trochu for per-
mission to rescue from the Tuileries some of the
Empress's things. Trochu sent one of his officers
with the Duke, and they were able, notwithstand-
ing the upside-down condition of everything and
everybody in the palace, to pack furs, laces, fans,
214
EXILES IX ENGLAND
jewels, knick-knacks, and a large quantity of her
wardn >b •. with which 1 lamilton arrived .it Camden
Place.
I ,un rather vague as to dates, but I think it
was on the 19th of September that Paris was
closed. Th< in. After this we had no
communication except by pigeons, by balloons,
or through the Prussian lines. The I Hike de
Mouchy remained in France — never left Mouchy
for an hour. I verything there was kept up as in
the days of our prosperity. Liter on a Prussian
General and his stall' were quartered at the
chateau. They were assigned rooms in one of
the wings, and they behaved with the utmost
discretion, using the back stairs, and never once
in any way intruding their presence upon the
Duke. My own place near Meaux was very
differently treated, owing, probably, to my absent
I had for ten months a regiment of cavalry, or part
of one. in possession of my dear heme. They
began by breaking into the cellars, and were for
days in a state of intoxication. They looted
everything. They masqueraded about Meaux in
my dresses, tea-gowns, cloaks, hats, to the great
amusement of the popula< They burnt for fire-
wood my orange trees, the old oak sideboards,
chairs and other furniture. At last my agent let me
know that they threatened to set tile to the house.
My patience was at an end. 1 had suffered in
silence-, not wishing to cry mercy ; but 1 now
-'5
MY MEMOIRS
determined to write to my cousin, Prince Leopold
von Hohenzollern, and ask his intervention. I
did not tell him that at the last extremity only
did I consent to accept aid and protection at the
enemy's hands. He wrote me a charming letter,
which I have kept, and regretted I had not
sooner appealed to him.
Versailles,
October 29, 1870.
Ma CHERE Cousine,
Je m'empresse de r^pondre a votre
lettre que je viens de recevoir, en regrettant de ne
pouvoir y ajouter deja le laisser-passer que je n'ai
pu obtenir avant de pouvoir presenter un signale-
ment exacte de la personne que vous voulez
envoyer. Veuillez done avoir la bont£ de me le
faire parvenir aussitot que possible. Voila beau-
coup de formalites, mais il faut compter avec des
inconvenients de ce genre pendant la guerre.
Je pense que vous voulez diriger le valet de
chambre a La Ferte sous Jouarre, pres de Meaux
— si vous m' indiquez le nom du chateau, cela lui
ferait gagner du temps.
Veuillez accepter, ma chere cousine, l'expres-
sion de mes sentiments les plus respectueux.
Leopold von Hohenzollern.1
1 Versailles,
October 29, 1870.
Mv dear Cousin,
I hasten to reply to your letter which I have just
received, while regretting my inability to include with it at
once the passport which I have not been able to procure before
presenting an exact description of the person whom you wish
to send. Will you then be so kind as to let it be sent to me
216
EXILES IX ENGLAND
I Prussian soldiers were removi \ they
left bare walls behind them. They killed and
my dogs; they took my horses: I had four dark
br< iwn mares, a perf< I I im.
Prince Leopold von 1 lohenzollern.whose candi-
dature i" the throne of Spain was the ostensible
r<-as>n for the Franco- Prussian war, was my
cousin on the Murat, not the Bonaparte, side.
The families had thus intermarried. My father
and Prince Hohenzollern's mother were first
cousins, and his sister, Princess Frida, married my
first cousin, the Marquis Pepoli. We were very
intimate friends, she and I. Although she lived in
Italy, she came frequently to stay with us in Paris.
His brother, the King of Roumania, when
Prince Charles Hohenzollern, spent, as 1 did, the
winter of 1S62 at Algiers. He was there for the
:e of his health. His rooms were quite near
mine, and his cough, which 1 constantly heard,
was a source of great distress to me. I left the
hotel and travelled up into the interior of the
Province as far as Miliana. On my return the
Prince had gone, and we never met again.
as soon ible? What a number of formalities ! But one
must reckon with inconvenien this kind during the war.
I fancy that you wish to direct your servant to La Fi
sous Jouarre, near Meaux -and it you inform me of the name
of the 1 that would save him some time.
Believe me, my d<\u c< lusin,
¥< mrs sincerely,
1 .pold von Hohenzollern.
-17
MY MEMOIRS
On the other side of Paris, in a park of 400
acres clos de murs, joining on one side the Bois
de Versailles, on the other the woods of St.
Cucupha, stood Buzenval, the home of our happy-
days, twenty minutes' drive from St. Cloud, facing
the Mont Valerien, within a walk of the Malmaison.
There the last great battle round Paris was fought,
on the 1 8th of January. The walls all riddled
with cannon balls, the house much damaged. I
have tried to get a photograph of the place to
my memory so dear, but I suppose none have
been taken. It now belongs to the Cadores
— I hear the Duchess lives there the greater part
of the year. The architecture of Buzenval, with
its round towers ending in a point, was somewhat
spoiled by the building of a huge wing. The
Emperor, who often visited us there, always said
he could not call it a " wing." It was more like
an " enormous thigh."
How little we dreamed that one day Buzenval
was destined to be the centre of a mighty battle —
the park crowded by a corps d'arme'e — General
Ducrot's — and the walls partly knocked down by
Prussian big guns !
Almost while writing the above I receive a
letter and learn that Buzenval, my old home, is
now " letablissement de Freres Saint Nicolas."
How altered the place must be !
Outside Paris, at Courbevoie, between Neuilly
and Rueil — the station for Buzenval, Jerome was
218
EXILES IN ENGLAND
quartered. He had ord to take command of
a regiment of francs-tireurs. Th< he
rt 1 them, when they realized who their
1 >lonel laid down their arms and de-
clared they would not fight under a Bonapart
Brought up in America, a West Point Cadet,
Je>dme had been through all the wars of Texas.
He proved himself equal to the occasion. He v.
calm and coolly < nined. lie told them he
aid s .vn every man who refused to
fight. They felt he would keep his word, and
were soon under splendid discipline. He com-
mas le I them through the v. ol the campaign,
and officers and men became devoted to their
Colonel, who did not leave them till peace was
;ned and M. Thiers was President of the
Republic.
Monseigneur Bauer was, during the last few
weeks of the Empire, in the habit of saying Mass
for the Empress in the private chapel of the
Tuileries. He was, as I have said, confessor and
almoner of her Majesty, but he was not chaplain
of the Tuileri L'Abbe Laine was the Em-
peror's private chaplain. Monseigneur Bauer
was a converted Israelite. Every one knows that
he played a great part in the politics of the Second
Empire. His influence in private, as well as in
public affairs, was most pernicious. His remorse
must have been I saw him tor the last
time at Chislehurst. \Y re all waiting in the
219
MY MEMOIRS
long gallery for the Empress, as she passed down
the centre of the gallery, lined on either side by
family officers of the household. A great number
of guests had come over from France. The guilty
priest advanced alone, and implored pardon. I
could not catch the words, but his humble
attitude — that said enough. I found it in my
heart to be sorry for his humiliation, although I
had reason to be personally opposed to him. I
felt, too, the situation must not be prolonged, so,
all in a moment, without reflecting, I went up to
the Empress and, bending, kissed her hand. She
kissed me and passed on. Some one said near
me, " You have saved the situation," and then only
I realized what I had done. I must leave others
to tell what his crime was. He was accused of
many things, but one person alone can say where
truth ends, where fiction begins. Of one thing,
I think, there is little doubt : the Empress con-
sidered he had behaved in a way to deserve the
gravest reproach.
About November my father took a large house
in the Cromwell Road. My mother's health had
suffered very much from all our troubles. She
was now constantly obliged to keep her room, and
the greatest care was taken to avoid noise. Some
days, poor Guy, when coming in from his walk,
would take off his boots before going, on tiptoe,
to her room.
My sister wished to be with the Empress, so
220
EXILES IN ENGLAND
rented t. ■■ Old Hall, quite n amden Plai
ied for si >me month Prin<
Metternich was at the ' larendon Hotel. G
to her one afternoon, I was shown into I
sitting-room. I suddenly heard a splashing of
iter, as if quite near me ; raising my < I saw
a high screen across one end of the room.
Presently the Princess laughin Jv explained that
the Prince had just arrived, and that the hotel
was so full that the end of the sitting-room had
been given him for a dressingf-room— and he was
in his hath !
London tor the time being had turned into
Paris. < )n ever) side a chatter of French was
Lrd. The Faubourg St. Germain and the
F ib »urg St. I h the old and the new
aristocracy of Paris, filled London. There was
not a house from <nd to end of Clarges Street
and Half-Moon Street without familiar I
Brighton, too, was crowded with our friends.
Princess Poni ,ka lived over a baker's shop
in the King's I I found her there when I
went on a Saturday t< > Monday visit to some friends
at the Bedford. 1 was then looking for a house
O
for Prim ilathilde, who had escaped from Paris
just i the with the aid of Alexandre
Dumas the younger, who offered her the hospital-
ity ol his chalet at Dieppe till she could leave
1' ranee. I uld find nothing suitable that was
not exorbitant in pri<
: j i
MY MEMOIRS
From Dieppe she went to Mons, and there
I wrote to her, giving her what news I could.
She wrote to me in response : —
Mons,
October 9, 1870.
My dear Caro,
I thank you for your kind letter, which I
found waiting for me here. I have been for a few
days to the Hague with the Queen, and she has, I
think, been even more affectionate than in days
gone by. In spite of all the marks of affection
and devotion that I received, and which I hardly
had the right to expect, I am horribly sad, and my
heart is broken. I remain here, not knowing
where to go, and not wishing to leave ; besides, I
really do not care. Everything is indifferent to
me, and I feel so overwhelmed in every way that
I have not the courage nor the desire to form any
plan. I should like to know Caponni and Paris
saved ! — all the people I have left there in safety,
and have no fresh grief to weep over. I often
see faces I know passing through here. There is
nothing but lamentation, regret — and winter is
coming with all its horrors. Here it is less foggy
than in England, and living is cheaper. I have
not received a single letter from the Empress ; I
do not know her address, and I do not know if
she cares to hear from me. I hear sometimes
of the Emperor, and my thoughts often turn
towards the dear little Prince, who must be very
unhappy, far from his father.
Can you give me any news of Aunt Jane ?
Where is Malcy ? What are they all going to do ?
222
EXILES IN ENGLAND
It' you are able, return to France, but not before tl
: of the siege of Par . Where is Loulou ?
t rive me all the n< i can get from
anyone. Write to me 1 Letters are quite sai
in envel< iddressed to Monsieur de Galbois or
to M. de Giraud, Poste Restante, Mons. As lor
me, I embrace you, my heart tern and sad unto
death most discoui ! and asking mysell it
life I"- desirable, when it has to witness such
isters.
Yours affectionately,
M.
( )ther letters which I n ' in quick succes-
sion show her yearning for news and her despair
at our disasters.
Mons,
October 15, 1870.
Dear Caro,
Your letters have given me great pleasure,
since they give me news oi events and oi persons.
1 did not know of the death of Friand and of
that of Mme. de la Redorte. They are perhaps
h ippier than we ! We are not at the end of
our sufferings, and I very much tear that when
we Paris again, it will lie one heap o\ ruins.
Th.it will he the crowning tench.
Here the letter not opened. You can
write what you wish.
Have you see Napoleon?1 They say that he
passes his evenings with Madame , a prett)
pastime !
Tell me if the Empress has been able to save
1 Her brother, Prince Napoleon: not the Kmpcror.
MY MEMOIRS
her jewels, her wardrobe, and all the possessions
she had in the rooms at the Tuileries. I should
like to know about it and how matters stand.
And Anna, is she not anxious about Mouchy ?
Of course, I mean the chateau. St. Gratien is
invaded by a German staff; all this grieves me
intensely, and our ruin, which is so complete in
every way, is the cause of the most terrible
despair.
Tell me all that She does from morning till
evening. Is she settling down where she is ?
How far from London is Chislehurst ? Is Metter-
nich with her? And the dear child, where is he ;
at Hastings, or with her ? Will she not go to see
him ? I kiss you, I embrace you with all my
heart. All kind regards to all with you.
M.
I had found a house which I thought would
suit her, and she wrote requesting further in-
formation concerning it.
Mons,
October 17, 1870.
My dear Caro,
I am just sending you a line and shall be
glad of an answer, if it is not troubling you too
much. Tell me with what furniture the house is
let. Is it clean ? And, further, are there kitchen
utensils? linen? plate? In fact everything? Or
ought one to see to all that for oneself?
I shall be coming to London on Sunday, that
is why I should prefer the outskirts, but quite
near, so as to be able to come into town for
trifles, as easily as I did from St. Gratien. I shall
224
EXILES IN ENGLAND
not leave Mons until the 15th November, and have
made no plans. I am beginning to get anxious
about it. Get me all the news you are able
to; here, no one knows anything. I only get
the Independance.
What is the Emperor Napoleon doing ? And
Pierrie? Whom of our circle do you see ? And
what hopes have they? What is Anna doing?
Does she go into society ? And where will she
spend the winter? Do you expect to return to
Paris after the siege? And your people? This
eneral dispersal is very hard. Shall we ever find
ourselves again — not in the same conditions, but
at least united ?
I can only tell you one thing, which is, that
I cannot conquer my feelings, that every day I
become more sad, and that I am in despair. I
kiss you from my heart.
Your affectionate Aunt,
M.
Do not speak of my plan, before I am quite
decided about it.
Our hopes that the Princess Mathilde would
(Mine to London and settle down in the house
that 1 had chosen for her were not realized, as
will be seen by the following letter.
Mons,
October 28, 1870.
My dear Caro,
I thank you for your kind information,
but I could not profit by it. I do not wish to go
away, and after the capitulation ^i Met/ 1 am
awaiting that of Paris. 1 am sadder than ever ;
v 225
MY MEMOIRS
there is nothing left but our complete ruin, and I
have not even the hope of better days. All is
lost, and I do not yet know how all this can have
happened. Well, we must bow our heads. I
hear that Anna is profiting by the fine weather in
London. I receive letters which deal only with
her dresses and her gaieties. How happy it is to
be able to be like that, and how much better it
would be for us all, could we follow her example.
But my heart is broken. I saw Fleury in Brussels.
He told us of the departure of the Empress ; it is
he who made all arrangements as far as England.
Give me all your news. I heard of the down-
fall of Napoleon and of the Empress ; what are the
Rouhers doing ? I am as sad as it is possible to be,
and daily expect to hear that St. Gratien has been
sacked, if this has not happened already. The
innocent pay for the guilty. I embrace you.
M.
Princess Mathilde's chateau was indeed sacked
and left in ruins, without roof or windows.
Eventually Princess Mathilde went to Brussels,
where she spent the winter, and where I suggested
visiting her, since she could not come to London.
Brussels,
November 28, 1870.
15 Rue oTArtois.
My dear Caro,
I shall find much trouble in putting
you up here. There is no room — not even in the
hotels, and I know persons who are watching all
the departures, to have two rooms when they
would need at least six ; it is very hard.
226
EXILES IX ENGLAND
B me, over tl until
: of Paris. I canm >t 1 ■ it will be
much r in cumin I should lik know
the story oi P iy.
Why i not thi , l de Mont : |
her mother at Chal t? I recei\
a visit from t. I int and Count' i Flanders,
though I h '. nothing for them ; they made
many inquirie Emperor and Empress
and after the little Prince. . . .
, ) out very little and see few people; the
we ither is n t bad, nor very cold; there is no news.
Time >wly when one is waiting, and
uncertainty makes it still more cruel. Mine.
Machin is writing a nice long; letter to the Em-
peror. It does one good to see that one is
remembered somewher Nevertheless, I notice
that the animosity of the first days no longer
exists . . . and although the faults may be serious
and we pay lor them cruelly, the memory of
i yars' prosperity cannot be wiped out.
All has been ed by Her, they tell me; let
us hope she will be better inspired and happier
than on the 4th September. She up a game
which was still playable ; but after all !
Write to me, give mi: some news ; especially
it" you have an)' from l'aris by balloon. What
bad luck to 1m: unable to make anythin ich
its destination !
1 embrace you and beg you t<> remember me
to all yours. Where- is Mal< \ f Again a thousand
affectionate mi -s.
M.1
1 Her friendship with Thiers ei Princess Mathilde to
return to l'aris during the early days of the Republic. She
MY MEMOIRS
Her brother, Prince Napoleon, had taken one
of the large houses facing Hyde Park, a little
lower down on the Marble Arch side. The
house was secured under the impression that the
Princess Clotilde would come to Eno-land, but
she remained at the Chateau de Prangins, till
the Emperor's death brought her for a short time
to this country.
Prince Napoleon's visits to England were
short, and not very frequent. He preferred
Prangins, on the lake of Geneva, where the
Princess and his three children had joined him
some little time after Sedan.
The few people who composed the Empress's
suite were the Duke de Bassano, Commandant
Duperre\ Adolphe Clary, Pietri, private secre-
tary, Dr. Corvisart, Madame Clary (who with
her husband had a house at Chislehurst), Mme.
Le Breton, and Mademoiselle Lermina. A
French butler, three French cooks and the Prince
Imperial's valet, the faithful Uhlmann, composed
the French contingent of the household. I knew
them all, but best of all I knew Clary. Long
before he belonged to the Emperor's entourage
he was the dearest friend of my cousins, and I
saw a great deal of him during the winter I spent
lived then in the Rue de Berri and at the restored chateau of
St. Gratien. She received a great deal in an intimate way,
though she did not give large functions. She died in Paris,
January 1904, the Empress visiting her on her death-bed.
228
EXILES IX ENGLAND
.it VI rs, where he was quartered with his reg
ment. I r him at that time, Febru
i .\ an appointment on the stafl of Bazaine i r
some general nominated to take part in tl
Mexican Campaign. My telegram making the
request was ;ent to the Emperor at Plombieres,
and I got my answer, "Impossible," before my
message reached the person to whom it was
addressed.
Adolphe Clary had a pretty country seat not
very tar from Paris. The same agent in Paris
actin ■ for us. Finding it urgent to send to
La Charloterie, on Clary's business, he took from
my stables one of my best horses and dispatched
a messenger. Both horse- and rider were cap-
tured by the Prussians. The agent immediately
wrote to both of us, informing us of what had
happened, blaming himself for what he had done,
and saying that without doubt Clary owed me
the price of the hors I should certainly at any
ordinary time not have claimed any indemnity,
but we were living from day to day without the
possibilit) of getting money except by selling
valuables and jewels. 1 asked Clary through the
agent for / i<\ a small sum, as I did not wish to
ask more than was paid by Government tor other
horse , I )lary refused, and rather an uncomfort-
able feeling arose in consequence, feeling which
a year later was destined to take the form ol a
ious litigation. Large cases were packed and
MY MEMOIRS
sent from Paris in the spring of 1871, containing
pictures and many other things which had been
saved from the wreck. One of these cases, sent to
me by mistake, contained a very valuable family
painting, the portrait of a lady, one of Clary's
ancestors. He immediately wrote and requested
that the case might be sent on to Chislehurst. I
replied that I had no desire to keep the picture,
and that on receiving a cheque for ^40, the price
of my horse, the case with his property should be
sent. He was very angry, threatened legal pro-
ceedings, and I put the matter into the hands of
my English solicitor, with the result that I received
my cheque and he his portrait.
Some years after, when the Empress went for
a winter to Florence and Rome, Comte Clary
accompanied her, took the fever and died.
Duperre\ the old, devoted and faithful friend,
could not stand Clary and his overbearing ways.
He constantly complained to me, and one day
told me with tears in his eyes that he must leave
the Prince and return to Paris and to his career
as soon as it was open for him to do so. He said
he had intended never leaving their Majesties,
but Clary had found such favour in the eyes of
the Empress, and interfered and made it so un-
comfortable for him (and indeed for all of them)
that he had decided to go. He told me among
other things that since the residence at Camden
Place he had had the catering. Clary persuaded
230
EXILES l.\ ENGLAND
the Emj r that it could be done on a much less
I i it mi >rning she had sent I
Duperre\ nd had ordered him to reduce expenst
— 1<> use his expression, "acinq francs par tete
de n; meaning ti » five francs a head.
('i the «>ther members of the household at
Chislehurst I have very little to say. Franceschini
Pietri was a Corsican, very devoted, no doubt,
nephew of Pietri, the well-known Roman Prefect
<>t Pol When at the Tuileries he was of liti
not<-, as he was scarcely ever seen. Under Priv ite
I sup] . was his title, but as a matter
ol fact he worked apart in a small room, where
the Emperor's hand-bell could call him at any
h<>ur. He was t! e Emperor's private messenger,
entirely outside politics. In the general break-
up he sprang into more prominent exist'-ncc, and
was one ot those sent to England by the Emperor
to accompany the Prince, with and subordinate to
Commandant Duperre*. At Camden Place, he
became Private Secretary to the Empress, and at
ent still retains the same position. I shall
have occasion to speak of him later on in connec-
tion with the Emperor's death, as well as of
Madame Le Breton.
Mademoiselle Lermina was daughter of a
penniless general, as was the wife ol Comte
1 iry (a Mademoiselle Marion). The Pmpr
was always most good and kind, and never tailed
to hue one or two girls as lectrices, and married
MY MEMOIRS
most of them well. Mademoiselle Lermina is
still with her, unmarried.
Notwithstanding the narrow strip of water
that lies between England and France, one cannot
help being struck by the difference in ideas, habits
and customs of the two countries, less so now
than when I first came to live here, just twenty-
three years ago. There is still one point, how-
ever, which has not changed — the immense
preponderance of unmarried women in England.
At the French Court I can only — after a long
search in the depths of my memory — record two
who could no longer claim to be girls. One of
them lived at the Tuileries and was conspicuous
by her connection with the Emperor on his
mother's side. Her father was Great Master to the
Empress's household, her brother was chamber-
lain. They occupied a suite of rooms in the
Pavilion Marsan, the part overlooking the Rue
de Rivoli.
I refer to the Countess Stephanie Tascher de
la Pagerie. She was a Canoness in Bavaria, and
therefore bore the title of Countess. In Germany,
being Canoness gives a right to this title.
Countess Stephanie was an amiable bluestocking,
very witty, very amusing, and, contrary to the
general rule of old maids, not ill-natured. She
was a general favourite at Court, much appreciated
by the Emperor, who had known her in his
younger days at Arenenberg. She was often in
232
EXILES IN ENGLAND
mand at the Pavilion de Flore, their Majesties1
petit s ap/ Her lively conversai
and droll ua\ ' I her life
in Germany amused th Empn - i . ni
The second " femme de trente ans"
da • r of Comte i bianca. I have nothing
to tell of her except that I knew her ver) well.
She had been unfortunate in an unrecij I d
love. 1 knew him i He made an unhaj
marri She thereafter devoted herself entirely
to her father. She became his right hand in every
w ty, acting as his pri\ cretary in main- affairs
of political importance.
M. de Casabianca, a dear old man, a Corsican
Napoleonist to the backbone, honest too, and not
altogether a nonentity, was most useful in difficult
moments when an intelligent and devoted man
was required to play a risky part, or in a financial
crisis. In this way poor old Casabianca was
dotted about as the occasion demanded. At the
critical moment of the Coup cC Etat he occupied
at the Rue de Rivoli the Ministere des Finances.
Then, at the proclamation of the Empire he found
himseit S taryol State — when it was necessary
to form and organize the new Cabinet. He was
also member of the Privy Council and, lastly,
senator for life. Casabianca was a very intimate
friend of my father's, who was able to render him
a service he never forgot, by obtaining that his
son-in-law should be sent as military attach-: to
ni
MY MEMOIRS
the Embassy at Turin. M. de Casablanca's
daughter was young and pretty, and did the
honours of the Embassy when required, as my
father was there alone, my mother being too
delicate to undertake the duties and fatigues
incumbent on the wife of an Ambassador.
Casabianca was a true friend, and was able to
prove himself so many times. No one who has
not lived at Court would easily realize the great
jealousies which invariably exist. The influence
and power of certain members of the household,
who have the great advantage at Court that a
lady's-maid has in private life, in possessing the
ear of the mistress, are as a rule very antagonistic
to family. The influence of the entourage of
which I speak may have been more felt at the
French Court, and perhaps existed to a greater
extent, as at the Tuileries there was no immediate
family.
Dr. Corvisart was one of the doctors at
Chislehurst called par quartier. They were four
in number, and took service in turns under Dr.
Conneau.
The Duke de Bassano, who was Grand
Chamberlain at Court, was only in attendance at
Camden Place on occasions of official receptions
or ceremonies, but always held himself in readiness
to obey the Empress's commands. I am now
speaking of the time during which the Emperor
was a prisoner at Wilhelmshohe.
234
EXILES !\ ENGLAND
In the month of December the Empress left
England and, travelling as
1 i short v 1 rial pri
The Prin Imperial was most anxious to
that he had
not his kuhcr since befon S Ian, tnd en-
treated her to allow him to lm> to the Emperor.
Father and son were wrapped up in each other.
Th- the last few months had brought
them still more closely together. I he poor little
Prince was, I heard, really heart-broken at the
:tion of his wish .t the Empn ss, who no
ibt had her . >ns, was determined in
refusal.
I may say here that, before the fall of Metz,
I thinking he could treat advantageously
with Prince Frederick Charles, sent an emissary —
no other than General Bourbaki — to Chislehurst,
asking the Empress I t lor a blanc St
authorizing him to treat in the name of the Regent
and put the Prince Imperial on the throne of
France. The whole incident is, I believe, well
known. General Bourbaki arrived at Camden
Place one afternoon, had a prolonged interview
with the Empress, and returned to Bazaine with
an indignant refusal. Many were the comments,
as you may imagine, among the entourage and the
members of the family then in England. What
was her reason f< lining Bazaine's offer ? No
one can say with certainty — at all events I cannot.
MY MEMOIRS
Would Bazaine have been Regent ? The Prince
was only fifteen. The capitulation of Metz
followed, August 27. Bourbaki had been able
to leave Metz through the Prussian lines with a
sauf conduit delivered by Prince Frederick Charles
himself.
In an ordinary time it would have been
without doubt a dangerous, reprehensible and
unprecedented act to have abdicated her powers
as Regent into the hands of Bazaine by giving
him the "signature in blank" he required, but
here the position was desperate. The honour of
France, the Empire, the throne, were in the
balance. To hesitate was certain ruin, for France,
for the Emperor, for the Prince Imperial. Had
a treaty been signed by Bazaine and Prince
Frederick Charles, it would probably not have
involved so great an indemnity as the loss of two
Provinces and five thousand millions of francs,
but it would have meant the abdication of the
Emperor and the loss of the Regency in favour of
Bazaine.
Perhaps the Empress's mistrust of Bazaine
might have been caused in part by the remem-
brance of the treachery of General Trochu, in
whom she had so recently blindly believed.
Perhaps the trials she had gone through had
left her without nerve for so daring an act — or
was it Fate ?
On leaving Metz, Bazaine proceeded to Wil-
236
EXILES l.\ ENGLAND
L'-'ir.-: >he, where he drew up, in conjunction with
the Emj ts of the
war. And the its which tulle His fall
and that ol his dynasty, ] imed dur the
insLir: a on the 4th • i September in Paris,
and again l>y the National Assembly sitting at
.x the tirst days <>i March 1871. It was
whispered that they discussed the possibility of a
torati Every one knows that, later on,
Marshal Bazaine v. I a traitor, tried and
condemn li faithful to the allegiance
sworn to his i ign constitutes a traitor, then
rtainl) Bazaine was one. I cannot admit that
he was traitor to Fram J Ie would undoubtedly
have restored the Empire had he been allowed,
and the world would not have witnessed the
gradual . and downfall of a great kingdom.
How great is the fall of France those alone can
1 who, like myself, lived on the steps of an
Empire's throne and have now, a voluntary exile,
watched tor thirty years on England's shores the
litical and religious decline oi my country.
The Emperor was an Angloman — he loved and
admired the English ; he never forgot Prince
Louis Napoleon and the cordial reception given
to the "inlawed l'rince who sought refuge in this
country. The Emperor dreamt of an English
alliance. Russia paid the penalty. We knew
the English heroes in the Crimea who bravely
fought by our side; we knew some of the pretty
-37
MY MEMOIRS
Englishwomen who flirted at Compiegne ; but we
had no experience in those halcyon days of a
Dreyfus ! of insults heaped upon us by the
English Press, of the injurious and hostile
language of English statesmen, of the attacks on
the French Army, qualifying our generals as
dishonest, questioning the integrity of our magis-
trates and their power to render justice. For
such a state of things to be possible, how de-
graded we must have become ! Poor France !
Yet the Empire, or a monarchy that would
save us, seems as far away as it was thirty years
ago.
In this year, 1871, I received a telegram
announcing the unexpected death of M. de
Chassiron.
Mr. Garden, whom I have already mentioned,
was unceasing in his attentions and his endeavours
to make our life less sombre. He was also
indefatigable in the service of the Empress.
Going up and down from Chislehurst to London
with dispatches in cipher, sometimes as late as
twelve o'clock, he would take our messages to
Charing Cross. He planned parties to Rich-
mond, drove us to a fish dinner at Greenwich, and
the first week in December persuaded my father
to pay him a four days' visit at Redisham, his
place in Suffolk, for the covert shooting. He
secured a saloon carriage and we went down — a
party of seven — I was the only woman. The
238 '
EXILES IX ENGLAND
shooters were the well-known " Brab,"1 the
handsomest Englishman 1 h id seen ; Tommy
Trafford, so renowned for his painted fai .
envied as a prot ol the Prince oi Wales;
Percy Barker, who was never sober, but a kind.
good-hearted fellow; and Captain Powell, who
had been through the Indian Mutiny and told
funny ; of shooting into moving bushes and
old women rolling out. How strange their talk,
their manners, their ideas, all seemed to me, fr
from the Court of the Tuileries !
We arrived .it Redisham about six o'clock.
Snow lay heavily on the ground ; the cold was
intense- that fatal winter of 1870-1, and I thought
I had never felt SO cold a house. Stone outer
hall, .stone inner hall, stone staircase, stone land-
with only one or two small rugs. It sent a
chill to the heart. Bier fires in the drawing-rooms
that scorched without warming you, and, it you
moved away, fearful draughts from under every
door and window ; hare furniture against bare
walls — not a cushion to be seen, not a flower, not
a plant. It all looked SO cold and miserable.
Plenty of smoke, however, from fires and men ;
the\- smoked all over the house. Miss Garden
said when she returned alter our visit that the
curtains and furniture were an e - nee ol smoke,
and had to be put out on the lawn tor a week
before she could again use them !
1 Major-General J. P. l'.rabazon, C.B., C.V < ».
239
MY MEMOIRS
Notwithstanding the cold, we had a very
pleasant week. All the men were full of fun,
and played practical jokes on each other. One
morning, about two o'clock, I heard shouts of
laughter, and, peeping out of my door, saw the
unfortunate Percy Barker being rolled down-
stairs in a feather bed . He had established
himself on the floor in Brab's room, who objected
to keeping him, the loud snoring preventing his
sleeping.
I liked Brab best of all the guests. He was
more like what I was accustomed to. The very
first evening at dinner, I remarked that he wore
his hair parted in the middle, a thing I particularly
dislike. It gives a man such an effeminate look.
Turning to him, I said something of the kind in a
low voice. To my horror he called one of the
men-servants and bade him fetch a comb ; then
and there at table, the man holding a mirror, he
parted his hair at the side, and I never saw it
parted in the middle again, although we remained
great friends and often met in London till, with
the courage and pluck which characterized him, he
volunteered for the Ashanti war, and the smartest
soldier ever in the Guards re-entered the Army as
a trooper, and left Waterloo with his buttonhole
and lavender kid gloves to join his regiment, amid
the cheers of his numerous friends, about May or
June 1873.
How sad our days, and sadder still our nights.
240
EXILES IX ENGLAND
One of our greatest trials, in the absence ol any reli-
able new tl houting in the streets ; the call-
ing out by newspaper men and b >ys ol m< >st terrible
battles — massacres — horrors of the si- We
were so absolutely unaccustomed to anything •
the kind that we believed all we heard. 1 scarcely
know what would have become of us during those
dreadful months had it not been for the friendship
of Lord Granvill We had not yet left Half-
Mo n Street My sister came up constantly to
her rooms at Fleming's, and often alter leaving
the I louse at twelve or one o'clock at night, Lord
Granville, who was then Foreign Secretary, would
come with the latest information he could obtain.
One evening I remember well. The shouting had
been more distracting than usual, when suddenly
we heard a babel of thundering voices, " The King
of Prussia killed ! " Oh, what a relief! A thrill
of joy went through me. The Emperor prisoner,
the King dead, surely the war was ended! I
never took time to retlect. Of course my hope
was shattered.
Mrs. Thomson Hankey, whose husband was
at one time under-governor of the Bank oi
England, had just come in. She had also heard
tin: iews. My delight shocked her immensely.
She said reprovingly, "My dear, you forget poor
Queen Augusta and her grief." Indeed, I had!
In those hours I had no thought for any grief but
our own, but, alas! no grief was needed. Lord
MY MEMOIRS
•
Granville soon arrived and dispelled my short-
lived joy. Some personage had been killed (I
cannot call to mind who it was), a general, I think,
and the war would go on, the dreadful war, without
suffering even a check.
And day followed day, each more weary
than the last, with its cold, its damp, its dense
black fogs. Would the sun never shine for us
again ?
At the beginning of January I left Cromwell
Road, and took with Guy a tiny but pretty house
in Walton Place, belonging to Ginger Durant.
He was kindness itself, left me two servants, his
plate and linen. I now had news more frequently
from Jerome, sent through the Prussian lines.
He was still at Courbevoie. He had been very
ill. To add to all the rest, small-pox broke out
among them. Though vaccinated, he contracted
the disease, which he had more slightly than
others, and it very fortunately left no marks. As
soon as peace was signed he came to England.
His mother was most anxious. She had no
means of communicating with her son, and only
received what little news I could send her.
My uncle had married a Miss Williams, a
Virginian heiress. Jerome and I had known each
other since our earliest infancy, but I lost sight of
him for many years, as he never came to France
till just before the Crimean War. He was an
only child till he was twenty-one, when a brother
242
EXILES IN ENGLAND
was I »rn. They were the only two children of
the Paterson branch of the fami
My aunt was always known to her husband
and children as " Miss Susan," and SO we all
called her— a habit contracted, 1 imagine, from
her old i. servants, who had been with her
from her birth.
After the war, [e*rdme came to London for
sonic weeks. He told us of the hardships and
privations of the sie He brought me a piece
of the hard black bread the officers and men had
to eat. His description was most amusing of the
luxury and treat it was t<> eat a rat from the
-utters or from the spout . "The) are far more
delicate," la: said, " than young chickens." Our
St. Bernard dogs had been eaten, taken from the
Avenue Montaigne, when it was turned into a
hospital for the wounded.
During the siege a rat cost 2 francs, a rabbit
t 50 francs, a cat 1 5 francs, a turkey 1 50
francs, each egg, fresh (:>) 5 francs. Every
animal in the Jardin d'Acclimation was bought
and eaten. The prices paid were fabulous. A
wild boar 1 ,000 francs, a woll 500 francs, a 1
800 francs. All the peacocks were b< »ught between
the well-known author Arsene Houssaye and the
eminent surgeon Ricord. 1 wonder if peacocks
are a great delicacy or if they ar< id and easily
dig< sted.
Jerome sailed for America some time early in
Q -
MY MEMOIRS
March, and intended proceeding to Baltimore to
join his mother and brother. When at New
York he was waylaid by the two brothers of a
Mrs. Newbolt Edgar, a very rich young American
widow, who had lived for a long time in Paris,
and to whom he had, no doubt, paid a certain
amount of attention. She had taken advantage
of this, and written several letters through the
medium of some Prussian officer. Her brothers
chose to consider her entitled to become Princess
Jerome Bonaparte (but Jerome always declined
the title), and through the intervention of her
brothers she became Mrs. Bonaparte.
Jerome announced his engagement with these
few details in a letter addressed to Achille. I
fear the marriage was not a very happy one.
The last years of his life, I believe, they lived a
good deal apart. I understand that Monseigneur
Bauer, and his wish to make a convert, was not
unconnected with this sad affair. His influence
weighed heavily in the balance.
I should have said, but have neglected to do
so, that after Sedan the Emperor Napoleon could
have treated directly with the Emperor William.
Bismarck, in an interview which he sought, said
to the Emperor these words : " Sire, do you
surrender your own sword, or the sword of
France ? " Without doubt, he expected the
Emperor to reply, " The sword of France." His
answer was, " I am prisoner of the King of
244
EXILES l\ ENGLAND
Prussia. You must treat with the temporary
I . . i rnment in Paris."
The armistice was concluded on January 26,
ami signed between Bismarck ami Jules Favre.
I am puzzling my poor brain about the
precise date of the Emperor's release from
Wilhelmshohe.1 Was it alter the signature of
O
the armistice in January, or a little later when
the treaty of peace was signed? However, it
matters littl
I remember the meeting and reception at
Dover. II'- had -Town old, grey and worn. I
remember the arrival in London and the reception
and loud cheering of all the French Napoleonists
then in England. I remember the home-coming
to Chislehurst — a home-coming so sad in a
stranger-land and last of all, I remember our
indignation, that knew no bounds, when, a few
days later, the Emperor went to Windsor by the
Queen's invitation, accompanied by the Duke de
Bassano and the officers of his suite, and found
that only a small pony carriage had been sent
to meet him all that was thought necessary for
a fallen sovereign ; yet very different was the
reception given the Queen of Spain at the
1 rench Court. The Empress was loud in ex
pressing her outraged feelings. The Emperor
alone was smiling and calm, and tried to stem
the torrent of words. Lord Granville ami Mr.
1 M
245
MY MEMOIRS
Gladstone were, I know, horrified when they
heard of the blunder. I think, but it is so long
ago I cannot be sure, that an apology was sent
to his Majesty, blaming some official of the
Court etiquette and protocol for the tactless
incivility.
Speaking of Mr. Gladstone reminds me of the
afternoon when a number of people had come to
the Empress's tea, and were sitting round her
traditional hot brioche. The last comer, Prince
Lucien Bonaparte, after some little time listening
and talking, asked the Empress in a loud (apart)
whisper who was the gentleman talking to the
Emperor ? On being told it was Mr. Gladstone,
he said, " Mais comment done ! " and went on, " I
didn't know a Liberal could be a true gentleman."
We heard from the Empress that Marlborough
House was "closed for repairs," but the Prince
and Princess of Wales much wished to come to
town for a few weeks. They had thought they
could have a suite of apartments at Buckingham
Palace. For some reason the Queen did not care
to consent to this arrangement, and the Prince
accepted the Duke of Sutherland's offer of Stafford
House. My sister wished to see the Princess or
write her name, and we went together. The
Princess was out, and while Anna was writing I
looked round. It seemed so strange to see a
house lent to the Prince and Princess of Wales
only partly prepared for their occupation, half-
246
EXILES I\ ENGLAND
smothered in brown holland, as one is accustomed
to have one's own house when out ol town and
only going up en camp valant.
We wei ry frequently at Camden Place;
some one of us might always be seen travelling
on the line up or down. I recall to mind one
afternoon I found the Emperor alone in the
drawing-room they generally lived in, a small
table in front of him, and a patience laid out " La
G rbe," his favourite patien He greeted me
with a smile and said, " Je fais une reussite." \\ e
played the patience together alas! 1 forget for
what success it was played, or il it was a success.
I stayed to tea. The Empress came in from her
drive, charming and gay- charming as she alone
can be when she choosi My sister and the
Princess Metternich came in. They had had an
adventure. On arriving at Charing Cross they
found that neither of them had any money. They
lost one train while arguing at the ticket office,
the man refusing to trust them. They went to
the station master, who at last succeeded in
tting them tickets on condition they would
deposit a jewel till their return. The Princess
Metternich took off a valuable bracelet and
handed it in at the office, in exchange for which
two return tickets to Chislehurst were delivered
to her. At Camden Place she borrowed a
sovereign and redeemed her bracelet on her
return to London.
MY MEMOIRS
Princess Metternich was celebrated for all
sorts of extraordinary experiences during her stay
in England. She made an excursion to Gravesend
with two or three men, and Mr. Garden told me
that she insisted on buying shrimps from a woman
who passed the carriage, and spreading out her
handkerchief, she proceeded to eat them, not-
withstanding his protesting that it was a thing
unheard of in one of her rank and position. But
she only laughed. She was always defiant of
convention. He took her to the Alhambra (the
Alhambra was not then as it is now). He
described himself as feeling quite hot when she
said to him in a very loud voice, speaking of a
man he had just introduced, " Ah ! your friend is
as familiar as a flea ! "
248
PRINCESS CAKOI.INK
CHAPTER X
DEATH OF NAPOLEON III
A trip to Italy— My econd marriage — Redisham — Return to
Paris Effects of siege and Commune — The i r —
The Emperor's illness — His death — Sir William Gull's
opinion — Mme. Rouher's experiment — Palmistry
After the Commune my father and mother
determined to return to France. The Princess
to go to Mouchy with my sister, who had
left England some few days earlier. Mr. Garden
and one or two friends accompanied them to
Dover, where they proposed taking the night
boat to Calais. How it happened that the
Princess and the lady who was always in attend-
ance on her got separated from the rest of the
party, never seemed clear ; but in the confusion
and fear of missing the boat she was hurried on
board, and it was not till an hour had elapsed
and they asked if the boat was nearing Calais,
that the Princess discovered that she was on the
Ostend boat on her way to Belgium! It wa
terrible shock to her in her delicate state o{
health, with no lup-gfap-e. I1() maid and Madame
Dutour, the lad)' with her, a very bad sailor, a
MY MEMOIRS
very rough sea, and the prospect of five hours'
passage instead of an hour and twenty minutes.
The Due de Mouchy was waiting for her at
Creil, where you change on the line du Nord for
Beauvois and Mouchy. On arriving at Ostend
the Princess could not be persuaded to rest.
She telegraphed her mishap, and took the first
available train. Mouchy said that she was almost
hysterical when she reached Creil, and nothing
could persuade her it was not a practical joke
played on her by the English locals, or by Mr.
Garden and his friends.
At the end of March I came to Redisham for
a short visit, and then went over to Calais and
Brussels, where I stayed a few days before pro-
ceeding to Strasbourg. I very much wished to
go to Meaux and see if I had anything left — I
should rather say if any of my things had been
saved. I made my way to Reims, leaving Guy,
his governess, and the servants there. I went
on with Mr. Garden, who had kindly undertaken
to accompany me. Our purpose was to find the
solicitor who had had my business in charge
during my absence. After many inquiries, we
at last succeeded in getting the address of his
private residence, and there we found him in his
study, seated in one of my best large armchair
lounges. He had not expected to see me. He
explained in rather a confused and embarrassed
way that he had taken some of my property as a
250
DEATH OF NAPOLEON III
means of saving it from the Prussians and the
francs-tireurs, who really did as much damaere as
the Prus ians tl. it" not more. 1 lis
attitude, so different from what it had been a
t<w m nths back, was the truest sign of the
tim< It positively smelt of the Commune.
He d me a cup of broth and a biscuit —
which notwithstanding his familiar manner, being
very weary, I might have accepted had t!
inything brought for Mr. Garden, but the
hospitality did not reach to a brandy and s
or even a glass of sherry ; so after some in-
structions and the request that what remained
of my property should be sold, with the ex-
ception of a few things which I ordered to be
sent to England, we took our departure to the
hotel for a little refreshment before taking the
late train back to Reims. Mr. Garden was
amused. I felt ill and thoroughly disgusted ;
the change was so great. Was it France ?
And who was I? Oh, my pride, what a tali!
Since then the falls have been so countless — I
accept them as my normal state.
( )n reaching Reims, where I rested for a few
days, we planned a trip to Italy: 1 asked two old
friends to join me, and, travelling leisurely through
many, we found ourselves one bright morning
at Verona. We were quite a small caravan, and
the amount of luggage with which I had left
England was so great, that we dropped on our
-5'
MY MEMOIRS
way here a large trunk, there a portmanteau, and
lastly a cause with bed-linen, pillows, cushions
and chamois leather sheets, so that for the first
time since I could remember I was travelling
without what I considered in those days the
necessaries of life when going through foreign
countries — more especially Germany — as I had
had some experience of the hotels in different
German towns.
At Verona we made a short stay. I was
anxious to see the tomb of Romeo and Juliet. I
do not know what I had thought and dreamt of —
certainly not what I saw. We drove some dis-
tance out of Verona, and in an uncared-for bit of
ground or garden was a grave, the primitive sim-
plicity of which seemed to carry away a world of
illusions.
My principal object in wishing to visit Italy
again was to go to Naples — to Venice. I had
spent winters at Genoa, Florence, Milan and
Turin — I had posted from Genoa to Florence
among groves of olive and orange trees — I had
changed horses at four o'clock in the morning at
what might have been an opera comique decora-
tion. I had been across the Apennines on the
most glorious of Italian nights with a moon
brighter than England's sun. I had crossed the
Mont Cenis in a sleigh, deep in snow, rushing
down to catch the train at St. Jean de Maurienne.
But I had never seen Naples ! This was my
252
DEATH OF NAPOLEON III
ambition ! In 1861 1 v 1 .1- to
k the ; r it' I might n to Naples he
" Rem tin at Turin ! ' In a day or
I tter tellin . stion
my visit ha n submitted tu the (tali in ( i >vern-
menl rid the nmunication in ver was to
thi : ild be at Naples for forty-eight
hours und< 1 N ditan
police. Now, with an English p rt, my wish
could I VV :it ten days at Venice
at Danielli's and left for Trieste; there we took
an Austrian Lloyd, and, after touching at Ancona,
we landed at Brindisi and went immediately on
to Na] The Adriatic is the only sea on
which I have ne\ I en ill. The weather was
pe it was th I of May. Naples de-
': me. I loved the noise, the joyous bells,
the songs of the lazzaroni, the blue sky, the
— I loved even the dirt and the heat
and the 1 irs. I loved everything and every-
body. After the darkness and the misery
the past months, it seemed once again a pleasure
to live and feel the sun shine on you. Each
night a swi utle rain cooled the atmosphere
and enabled us to spend our days in excursions
without feeling the heat too We went
to Portici, my grandfather's preferred country
idence ; we went to ' itellamare and sat for
a moment in the • ) n's boudoir, all capo di
monti china. We went to Vesuvius, to Pompeii;
-53
MY MEMOIRS
we went up the Monte Nuovo. Three days in
succession we just missed the train to Sorrento.
We saw the train still there, we heard the whistle
— we had plenty of time had we not been
penned in like sheep. We never caught the
train, and so we left without seeing Sorrento,
Mr. Garden very angry, and using ugly English
language and swearing he was thankful he was
an Englishman.
I was so sorry to leave Naples. We travelled
back through Germany and stayed at Munich, at
Stuttgart, at Ulm. Prince Hohenzollern, to whom
I wrote, gave us some permissions for fishing,
and we spent days and weeks whipping the
streams and pools for trout. It was very amusing
and exciting to me, as it was my first experience
of anything of the kind. I remember catching a
trout and a grayling on my line at the same time.
I managed to land them after a feverish struggle
on both sides, I at one end, the fish at the other.
I did not feel quite certain which of us would land
the other.
We got back to England some time in Sep-
tember, after making a stay at Aix-la-Chapelle
and Brussels. Everything at Camden Place was
in the statu quo I had left it. I went to report
my return and to obtain his Majesty's consent to
my marriage with Mr. Garden. This consent he
readily gave in writing, which I have preserved.
254
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FACSIMILE OF LETTER FROM THE EMPEROR NAPOLEON III. TO
PRINCESS CAROLINE.
DEATH OF NAPOLEON III
My dear Nn i .
I have no reas< >n whate\ er to •
your marriage, it it is tu make your happiness,
and I pray that it may do Receive the ex-
pression of my -ocd will.
\.\1 01 EON.
The Prince (my father) and my younj
brother came over from France, and we took rooms
at the Pulteney Hi tel, in Albemarle Street, where
we remained tor a few weeks, afterwards moving
to the Alexandra. And one fine morning I was
married bv special licence at St. Peter's, Eaton
Square, sans tambotirs ni trompette. One in-
cident occurred. I had wished to have a double
wedding-ring". The Princess Mathilde always v.
the only one I had ever seen. One was ordered
at Hancock's, the old jewellers, who were often in
Paris and whom I had knownforman) years. When
the moment in the ceremony arrived, the clergy-
man vainly endeavoured to put on the ring, not
knowing that it was made for the little finger.
On that finger I have always worn it. I heard it
caused the Suffolk yokels to question the validity
of my marriage, which greatly amused me. We
went back to the hotel to a big luncheon, and
intended taking the afternoon train to Redisham.
By this tim< 1 was feeling dreadfully ill — morally
and physically. The prospe< t of a country life in
England was before me. But the die was cast,
25s
MY MEMOIRS
and I determined to face the future bravely —
what a future ! !
We missed the train and took a special from
Ipswich, as the eight o'clock train from London
went no further. The officials omitted to telegraph
along the line to expect a special. From Ipswich
to Beccles we stopped at every station, and the
guard and men opened and shut each gate. We
could not afford to do as Lord Dudley did some
years later when he had Benacre. For him they
put steam on and never stopped, smashing every
gate they went through all along the line. It was
late at night when I at last reached my future
home.
Now, my friends and my foes — whoever
travels thus far with me on my journey — I ask
you to realize, if you can, my position — realize
what it meant to me to exchange France for
England — Paris for Suffolk — the court of the
Tuileries for Redisham — life surrounded by father,
mother, brothers, sister, relations and friends, to
a life in, perhaps, the most stupid of English
counties, the most prejudiced of English families.
Those who have never left a loved country and
voluntarily transplanted themselves — too late —
among strangers, can never know how hard it is
to be content.
It has just come to my ears that some little
gossiping people of small note have done me the
honour of discussing and criticizing me. Mr.
256
DEATH OF NAPOLEON III
— shall .. . Smith or Jones ? — who sta) ra
f( •■.'. lays with me in the hi i >f an
American friend, and a Miss Cooke's i inion,
whom I had l >me \ i irs ed
my devotion to m) o untry and complained of my
not bein ntly English." Even to i
ignorant I ild have thought contemporary
history would suffice to show that nothing from
the hour of my birth to the present day could
ever make me English in thoughts, feelings, id
or ways. I rather love my English home, I am
devoted to my English children, 1 have great
aii r the few friends I have made in this
country. 1 admire and respect I should not
nture to say more — my English King; but how
could I love the English nation? Mow could I
care for a people I have always been taught to
consider our gr foe ? — not because I was
born in America at a period when Americans were
anti-English, whatever they may be to-day; not
as a child I roamed on the borders of
the Delaware, where King Joseph, the Emperor's
brother, lived in exile at Point Breeze, as did my
father, his n a , whose constant companion I was.
From their lips I learnt to worship the great hero
who madly confided himself to England's honour
— a great Emperor, trapped and treacherously be-
trayed, tortured, until he died. Not because I
found in France, in later years, any love for
England. The only person who might have
k ^s^
MY MEMOIRS
inspired me, the Emperor Napoleon III, lost his
throne in his rash desire to imitate the Parlia-
mentary Government of this country, and later
gave up his life at the hands of an English
surgeon. The Prince Imperial, so beloved by
all who knew him — the hope of France ! — need I
tell how he went to fight for England, how he
was abandoned by England's soldiers, how he
was left to die alone, fighting the enemy, while
officers and men turned tail and fled, never
looking back to be able to tell how the Prince
bravely died, facing the foe ? Is it for all this
that Mr. Smith or Jones thinks I ought to love
England ? Or is it because I married an English-
man ?
After Christmas of 187 1 I went to Paris for a
short time en route to Nice. We stayed in the
Rue St. Honore, at the Hotel St. James, the
house that had belonged to the family de Noailles,
called " L' Hotel de Noailles," in those days, with
a pretty garden and most of the rooms still with
the old carved white panelling, and " trumeaux "
over doors and mantelpieces. All my family were
in Paris, and once again we were all together, but
it was almost more pain than pleasure, everything
was so changed. The Avenue Montaigne, my
old home, was bare and dilapidated. The Prince's
rooms alone were made habitable. Turn which
way I would I felt pained and heartsore. Paris
seemed no longer Paris, the gay city I had known.
258
DEATH OF NAPOLEON III
Every one :n les cockers de //• had s
t miliar a tone in speaking, that 1 won 1 :red they
did not say "tu" as in the days of the great
revolution of
Leaving Mr. Garden in Paris to attend to
ime business and collect the remnants ol my
belongings. I went on to Nice. At Marseilles, 1
obliged to break my journey. I was too ill
to go further. 1 stayed at the Hotel de la Paix
till Mr. Garden couldjoin me. Marseilles was so
well known to me, s<> full of r :ctions ; so
many years it hail been my resting-place on my
way to and hack from our cote cTazur which the
English call the Riviera. From there, too, I had
sailed for Algiers, and the joyous winters, the-
me rry part}' we were, all came back so forcibly to
my mind, that I had not the courage or the
strength to struggle any longer, and for weeks
alter 1 got to Nice- 1 was ill with low fever. We
change I from the Hotel tie France to the Hdtel
de.-, Anglais, where we had rooms with a little
garden running on to the Promenade des Anglais.
I was thus enabled to be in the open air each da)
and slowly 1 regained my usual health.
We went on to Italy in May. We stayed at
I . ineva, at Turin. We came back by the Mont
Cenis, and lunched during the twenty miles
through the tunnel. I found myself at Aix look-
in" as of yore at the huge mountain like a su^ar
cone, called " Le dent du Chat and the deep
k a z 59
MY MEMOIRS
waters so intensely blue of the lac du Bourget
recalled to memory such happy hours — all gone
never to return. I asked to be brought back to
England, to forget — I have never forgotten — and
now in my old age I can echo the words,
" A sorrow's crown of sorrows
Is remembering happier things,"
for my greatest pleasure is to live again in the
past.
It is June and from the windows of the
Alexandra Hotel I watch the park, so thronged
with the gay lovers of the London season. My
brother Achille is in town and gives me news
of Chislehurst. The Emperor so suffering, so
patient, so resigned, had been during the cold
weather to Torquay. The place did not agree
with him, he felt it too relaxing and dull and was
glad to be again at Camden Place, where he was
constantly surrounded by friendly and familiar
faces, coming, going, changing, like a living
panorama before him. Before leaving for Redis-
ham I went to pay my respects. The Emperor
asked me in what part of Suffolk was Redisham.
"Not very far from Yarmouth, Sire." "Oh!
Every other town I hear of has a ' mouth ' —
pronounced ' mowse.' "
We spent the summer at home. In Novem-
ber, Mr. Garden took General White's house in
Lowndes Square, a very large house, but not
260
DEATH OF NAPOLEON III
er than we required. My father, mother
and brother were to be with me for the New
Y ir of i ''73. Late in December Mr. Garden
k a party of shooters for a week's ban
th<- poor pheasants. They stayed over Christmas
and B I > ay. and gambled all night and si
all l\a\ 1 was told. It was very characteristic!
I spent, for the first time in my life, Christm is
alone with my old French maid, who had n<
left me. 1 was very seedy and felt miserably
out of spirits, and at war with all the world. I
drove to Chislehurst as often as I could ; but the
drive was a long one, and my state of health did
not allow of any exertion or fatigi The
Emperor had been suffering more than usual.
The past few months his illness had made great
strides. At times the pain was almost unbearable.
The Empress now urged an immediate operation.
Sir Henry Thompson assured her that it could
be done , and without danger to the
illustrious patient. The Emperor nted,
more to plea the I mpress than because he
had any faith in its success. He knew the risk
must be great, but the position must be critical,
the malady had made such rapid pro in the
last year.
More than once, when in intimate conversation
with those he trusted, he di d that he had
i ke t in total ignorance of the gravity of the
repeat made in consultation by the surgeons some
261
MY MEMOIRS
days before the declaration of war ; consultation
in which the surgeons concurred in the opinion
already given by Professor Lee, that an operation
was urgent and should not longer be delayed. It
was not till at Metz, when in positive agony, that
the Emperor insisted on knowing the truth. He
bore the revelation with admirable fortitude. My
brother told us that throughout the campaign he
suffered severe attacks without a murmur.
It was a most anxious time for us all. We
heard that the first operation had done satisfac-
torily what was required of it. I went to make
inquiries and found a number of people surround-
ing the Empress Eugenie, who, seated at the tea
table in a large bergere, was talking excitedly
to those near her. As I came in, she turned,
saying to Dr. Corvisart — " Has Sir Henry arrived?
Put him in cotton wool. I beg you to take great
care of him. He has the life of the Emperor in
his hands." We talked and drank our tea, and
tried to appear gay and unconcerned. I watched
the hands of the clock. How slowly they seemed
to move ! After a long time Corvisart came in
again and, approaching the Empress, handed her
a Sevres plate on which were several small pieces
of crushed stone. The second operation had
also been successful. The Empress was delighted
and more desirous than before to wrap Sir Henry
in cotton wool. I went home with a lighter
heart.
262
DEATH OF NAPOLEON III
A few days later my mother and father came
r from Paris. I. ns continued and
everything promised a happy termination, when
the i) ■• ime that the Emperor was weaker and
that the final operation had been decided up. .p.
for the next day. This was January the 8th. At
eleven o'clock on the 9th a courier was dispatched
to inform us of the Emperor's death.
Bef ire he arrived the cries of the men and boys
in the streets h ul already spread the news. It
would be im] ible to picture our consternation.
I could not believe it to be true. I ordered the
carriage and drove to Camden Place as fast as
o
my horses could take me. rhe day was bitterly
cold, the sky all grey, and the roots black with dirt
and melted snow. Past Blackheath and Lewis-
ham we flew. The way had never seemed so
long, and all the time I tried to persuade myself
that it might be a faint, a trance, anything but death.
On arriving, the first person that I saw was
the Prince Imperial. lie was walking up and
down the long gallery with Davilliers. He came
forward to meet me, neither oi us could speak.
With a gesture of despair he turned away and
left me that I might go on to the Empress, who
was in the inner drawing-room. Then 1 heard
lr< 'in her lips the dreadful truth in all its details.
She told me that, wishing to secure for their
patient, in view of the proposed operation, a good
night and quiet sleep, the doctors had ordered a
MY MEMOIRS
dose of chloral, which had been administered by
Corvisart ; that, no doubt, in his anxiety he had
given a larger dose than was absolutely required.
Was it by mistake or ill judgment ? Certain it is
that from that dose — double dose, some said — the
poor Emperor never woke. The doctors arrived
from London too late. Nothing could be done.
The Emperor still breathed. Sir William Gull
did all in his power to rouse him. He spoke of
Sedan, of the capitulation, in the strongest terms,
in hopes of awakening some feeling, some con-
sciousness. They sent for the Empress, who
prayed him to live for her. She called him every
endearing name. At last he opened his eyes,
looked at her and smiled. She took his last
breath in a kiss. When she lifted her head he
was dead. All this she told me as we sat together
in the drawing-room.
On leaving the Empress I found the Prince
still walking up and down. His grief not to have
been with his father at the last was heartbreaking.
He had entreated to be allowed to remain. The
Emperor had expressed the wish that the Prince
should be near him. The Prince had been sent
back to Woolwich, accompanied by Adolphe Clary,
the day before. No doubt the Empress feared any
emotion or agitation for the Emperor, but I was
not surprised that the Prince, in the first moment
of his despair, declared he could never forget or
forgive.
264
DEATH OF NAPOLEON 111
My mother was anxious to hear Sir William
Gull's opinion. S to him. His answer
was most courteous, but he evaded giving any
decided i ipinii >n. I . fter, in . when
atten lin » my little girl, who was dan sly ill
with peritonitis, he asked me it' I remembered
writing to him. Hethensaid, "Itwasimj ble.
1 could not sign the certificate of that post-mortem
Lamination. \ u know, madam, in olden daws
the devil was said to go about the world as a
roaring lion— now he goes about in the guise of
lispensing chemist. This me I sent you
eleven \ m . which as far as I
am aware, was never delivered.
I should say here that the prescription ordering
the dose of chloral was said to have been signed
by Sir William Gull.
The Emperor was very averse from taking
it, saying the dose taken on the previous night
had made him feel ill and heavy. It was a contre
ccsuri and as if under a presentiment, that he at
last gave way to the Empress, who implored him
to drink, and swallowed the nauseous stuff.
Rouher, his wife , nd daughter, had been tor
me weeks at Chislehurst, having taken a small
house in order tobenearthe Emperor. Madame
Rouher was a small, nervous woman and very
sily upset. The Emperor's illness and death
told on her i \\d, hearing that she was
suffering, Mr. Garden went to inquire. Il<- was
MY MEMOIRS
met first by a terrible smell of roast mutton and
of garlic ; next by M. Rouher himself, who said
that it was with some difficulty they had saved
Madame Rouher's life. What had happened was
this : she could not, would not, believe the dose
of chloral had killed the Emperor. She wished
to try the experiment on herself. She persuaded
one of the doctors to give her the same amount of
chloral that had been given to the Emperor. At
twelve o'clock the next day she showed no signs
of waking. Doctors were sent for in every direc-
tion, and at length succeeded in bringing her
round. A dangerous experiment. I suppose,
being younger and in better health, she had a
greater chance of life.
The news of the Emperor's death was imme-
diately telegraphed abroad, and London was
once more crowded with relations — friends —
Napoleonists. Prince Napoleon had given up
his house in Hyde Park and was at Claridge's.
The Princess Mathilde was at Thomas's in
Berkeley Square, very cross and very sorry for
herself. She has always hated England.
The Duke and Duchess de Mouchy were at
the Pulteney. The Duke disliked the cooking at
the Pulteney and requested that, as the hotels
belonged to the same proprietor, the chef at
Brown's should be sent to the Pulteney during
their stay. The exchange was made after pressure,
much to the annoyance of the visitors at Brown's.
266
DEATH OF NAPOLEON III
ichy h nl particularly wished for the chan
<> many French people were in 1 n that
my sister wa I to recei reat deal, more
illy in invitations to dinn<
M\ I st brother, Joachim, was also at the
Pulteney, and Achille, though at Camden PI
v. . mtly in town. He brought to Anna's
first big family dinner a Russian Ban
nam-: I forget. Like all the Russians I hav<
known, she had great charm of manner and was
a perfect linguist, French and English being as
familiar to her as her own language. She had the
gift of palmistry to a wonderful degre This v.
my brother's principal reason for bringing her.
11 thought it would be a pleasant and amusing
diversion at a time when we were all so miserably
out of spirits. Alas! It did not prove the succ-
he had intended. At first the Baroness was gay
and witty and told us two or three fortunes very
cleverly. Presently Clement Duvernois came up
and asked her to tell him his future. She looked
at his hand and becoming suddenly very serious,
declared that she would not reveal anything she
saw. Prince Napoleon laughed and his mockery
ann< >yed her. She said she would speak in private
it Monsieur Duvernois cho They went into
the other ro >m. What was told we never knew,
but we noticed how white Duvernois was. He
as ii he was going to faint, and asked for
a -la.^s ot wine. Prince Napoleon chaffed him
MY MEMOIRS
and turning to the little Russian he said: "Now it
is my turn, Madame." When the Prince came
towards us again, he was whiter even than
Duvernois — but with anger ; almost speechless
with anger. He asked for his carriage and drove
away : so the evening came to a sorry end.
My brother and the Baroness dined next day
with me at Lowndes Square. Mr. Garden took a
great fancy to her. She read his hand, and he
said she had told him some very curious things,
both events in the past and predictions for the
future. She told him he would die alone with no
one near him — a prediction which came true on
the 2nd of June, 1892, when he was found dead
alone in his room, his arms on a table, his
head fallen forward and resting on them. The
Baroness said Russians always used cigar ash for
their teeth and asked Mr. Garden to keep all the
ash from his cigars and send it her in a year's time.
He sent her the following year a small gold box
filled with ashes. I have often wondered what
has become of her, and if she still tells her friends
and acquaintances how they will live and how they
will die ! I have never heard of her since we
parted.
As I have already said, my health was not very
good just then, and I was able to go to Chislehurst
only once more before the funeral. I wanted to
pay my respects to the Empress, but I much
deprecated the thought of seeing the lying in
268
DEATH OF NAPOLEON 111
state. 1 had no idea that the ( - . M rtuaire
would be so placed that it was impossible i
through the gallery which ran all along the house
without catching, at least, a glimpse ol the chapel.
It occupied a small room in a recess . it t
middle of the gallery and almost facing the entrance-
hall ; a rex "a I as it were, ti i I tilery,
as it was without doors or curtains of any kind. I
d on as quickly as I could, but not without
the sight, for a second, of the figure lying there
with the face like yellow wax. 1 can see it as 1
i lid then — a sight one never forgn i ;.
1 did not go to the funeral, 1 was the only
member of the family absent, with the exception
of my father and mother and Prince Napoleon.
There was an immediate stampede after the
remony ; every one left for France; and London
— for me — was empty once more.
269
CHAPTER XI
THE EX-EMPRESS
The Emperor's will — The Prince Imperial — "Papa, she's
pinching me ! " — Daniel Home — Coming-of-age of the
Prince Imperial — The box of chocolates — An enterprising
princess — Anecdote of the Empress of Austria — Lord and
Lady Stradbroke
The following morning the Prince Napoleon
went to Chislehurst to put himself at the disposal
of the Empress. She pressed him to take at once
cognizance of all papers, letters, documents, in
the Emperor's working-room. She mentioned
that seals had been affixed to every drawer and
cabinet. Prince Napoleon naturally imagined
that this had been done by some legal authority.
On entering the study he saw a profusion of seals
everywhere, on everything. On approaching, he
saw the seals were all those of M. Franceschini
Pietri, who accompanied him. The Prince opened
one or two drawers and then withdrew. He
refused to act as guardian to the Prince Imperial,
or take any responsibility as regarded the Em-
perors will. Certain papers of importance, historic
deeds of great value which early in October he
270
THE EX EMPRESS
had »een the Emperor put into the drawers he
now opened, had di Lred. These \
Prince Na n had read, and knew to be of
political importance. One of them had been a
treaty signed between the I rors Francis
Joseph and Napoleon III promising the help of
Austria to France in case she went to war with
Prussia. Had not other documents even more
immediately important and private ine lik wise?
I low could he tell ?
This is what occurred — or, to be more ex
what was rumour at the time at Camden Place.
I cannot in any way answer for the truth of what
I am going to say.
M. Pietri, accompanied by Mme. le Breton,
had the night before, as had been done in the
case of the Duke de Morny, gone through all the
papers and documents, private and political ; alter
which the s<als had been placed.
Every one knows, as it is at Somerset House,
that the will found in the Emperor's desk was
dated April 1865 — five years, therefore, before
the war. In his will he leaves the whole of his
private fortune to the Empress, only mentioning
his son in recommending to him — their future
Emperor — the people of France.
From his very infancy the little Prince Im-
perial was brought up verj strictly. It was
according to the Empress's wish that it should
be so. She always spoke of herself as Wt'vv
-71
MY MEMOIRS
romaine. I recall to mind several incidents of
his childhood which it may be interesting to
relate, as some of them took place in my presence.
Every Sunday we dined at the Tuileries — les
diners de famille, none others present except the
service. The circle formed, the doors were
thrown open to announce their Majesties —
"L'Empereur — L'Imperatrice." The Emperor
held the hand of the little Prince. He had been
taught to kiss the hand of the Princesses of the
Imperial family. On one particular Sunday he
made a dreadful mistake, he forgot, and also
kissed Prince Napoleon's hand. The Emperor
laughed, but the Empress was angry. She seized
the child, who cried out " Papa, elle me pince '
(" Papa, she is pinching me "), and the poor little
fellow was dispatched in disgrace. The Prince
was between four and five years old at this
time.
In the spring of the same year, I was at
Fontainebleu, with a large series of guests. The
Prince Imperial came in after breakfast, before
going out for his walk, delighted to show the
Empress a beautiful box of chocolates which had
been sent him. She told him to go round the
room and offer his chocolates to all the guests.
Going from one end of the room to the other,
handing his treasures, the child gave way to the
great temptation of putting one in his mouth.
Immediately he felt his neck clutched from behind,
272
THE EX-EMPRESS
and he was made to spit out the ch ite and
have the box taken from him. 1 v. sorr)
the child; I have never forgotten the s nor
the look of pain on the Emperor's face.
It was at Biarritz, three years later, the Prince,
then about eight years old and not a very good
sailor, was dreadfully nervous and frightened on so
rough a sea as the Bay of Biscay. Nevertheless
the Empr insisted— no doubt very rightly
that he should go with her on some very short
cruises. The child, terrified one da)' when the •
behaving tempestuously, sought Duperr^, who
said : "Voyonsdonc, Monseigneur, vous n'avez pas
ir ? Mais vous n'etes qu'un marin deau
douce."1 le Prince between his tears and his
fears — much to the amusement of all around —
an 1 : " Et vous, Duperre, vous n'et :s
qu'un marin d'tau Jilt,
One morning about the middle of February
1 received a message from the Empress telling
me to find Mr. Daniel Home and bring him to
her. We had all known him in the days of
Fram 1 knew him better perhaps than most,
as he thought I was more in sympathy with his
spirits and was anxious I should be present at a
ince. !!'• was in high favour at the Tuileries.
i. ig evenings were spent— and entertaining
1 "I say, M eur, surely you arc not afraid! Vuu
arc only a i fresh water."
- "And you, Dupcrrc, you arc a sailor of filtered •
S »73
MY MEMOIRS
ones — in listening to the spirits he evoked, in
seeing the wonderful things they did. To tell
you all I saw and heard would be impossible,
and no reader would believe me if I did. I will
only say that one so impressionable, so impulsive
as the Empress could not fail to be deeply moved
and painfully excited. This power, which Mr.
Home certainly had, gained such an influence at
Court, he worked so skilfully on the feelings
of the Empress, he evoked for her the past,
the present, the future, in such a terribly con-
vincing way that the Ministers at a Cabinet
meeting requested that Mr. Home should be re-
quired to leave France. I was sorry, for I really
liked him. Our interesting evenings were over —
no more wonders to subjugate and surprise us —
no more suppers after the Opera, with unseen
hands playing the tunes on accordion or piano —
no more tables covered with glass and plate
lifted suddenly above our heads — no more noise
as if every window and mirror in the room was
ringing with sounds that told us that Home was
coming, was in the house.
The message from the Empress must be
obeyed. I hesitated, very much perplexed. It
was such a terrible responsibility. I knew what
she wanted. I knew what a fatal effect it might
have on a temperament so nervous, so excitable.
Nevertheless, I could not refuse. I sent for
Home. He responded to my first call, though
274
THE EX-EMPRESS
years had pa two had met and I
or. us, at least, tl »rld had chai
When I saw him I thought him 1 id-
fully ill. We talked a long time, but nothii
I could say would persuade him t<> go to the
Emj lie knew, as I did, that she wished
to see the Emper He told me of his broken
health, and said he did not dare venture on
trial which, if he su must use his strength
ken him considerably. lb- told me of
his wife's death. lb- told me a great deal about
his little boy, a child of seven, who said he saw
his mother constantly and held long conver-
is with her. Home had married a Russian.
1 wrote and expressed all my regret that I
i unable to do as the Empress wished. She
was much grieved and disappointe I.
Prince Pierre Bonaparte, younger brother of
Prince Lucien Bonaparte, of whom I have spoken,
marred, in [853— without the Emperor's consent
— a young Corsican, Justine Ruffin. The marriage
was never acknowledged during the Empire and de
/ ■ to was not legal in Frani The- Prince was not
ved at Court and he went to Brussels, where
! till the Republic was proclaimed, the
Emperor granting him an allowance of ,/" 4, 000
a year. In 1 572 he came to England with his
wife and two children, a boy and a girl. The
allowance failing him, he had very little to live on,
and his wife, a handsome woman with all her wits
S2 j 75
MY MEMOIRS
about her, started a large dressmaking and mil-
linery business in Bond Street, under her hus-
band's name, much to the indignation of the
Empress. All London flocked to Princess
Pierre Bonaparte to be gowned, to see, I sup-
pose, what a princess could do as an amateur
dressmaker. Prince Pierre had asked help from
the Emperor before consenting to the step his
wife proposed. It was unwise to put before their
Majesties the alternative. It was considered a
threat, and the refusal to receive them or in any-
way assist them was the natural consequence. I
had from my earliest girlhood been fond of my
cousin (uncle a la mode de Bretagne). On my
arrival at Lowndes Square, I went to see Prince
Pierre at his private residence, 9, Hyde Park
Place, and met his wife for the first time. I
asked them to dine with me one evening when I
was sure of being quite alone, as I was certain of
a severe reprimand, if not my conge1, from the
Empress should my indiscretion reach her ears.
The Princess Pierre told me her enterprise was a
great success, and that she was able to send her
son to one of the high English schools, not Eton,
I forget which. For some years she prospered,
then failed, I believe, and Prince Pierre returned
with his family to France. I had lost sight of
them after 1873 and was much surprised when
Prince Lucien came to me one day during the
winter, I think of 1876, and asked me to go to
276
THE EX EMPRESS
Chislehurst with him to implore the Empres;
aid for his brothi He had great hop'--.; I had
noii--. but I was most anxious to second his
end rs. Th iition was such a sad
Prii rre had written that he was in the
greatest distress — that they were almost without
bread that if no one would help him, he \\
termined to shoot himself. He could no longer
bear the miserable existence to which he and his
family were reduced. Prince Lucien in telling
me all this was so comical in his manner and
comments that, sad as the position was, I could
not retrain from laughing, when throwing up his
arms he said in tones of despair — " II faut obtenir
un secours ! Mon Dieu ! si mon frere se tue, je ne
pourrai plus jamais me montrer a l'Athenaeum ! '
As I had foreseen, nothing was to be obtained
from the Empress. She was very angry, with
me especially; though she kept Prince Lucien
to dinner, she said to me: "Ma chere, je ne
is retiens pas a diner, nous serions trei
It was Sunday. I returned to Claridge's by a
late train, no dinner ordered, a weary, hungry,
but not a w iser, woman.
1 may console myself that I am not the only
guest who has had the experience of beiny sent
away dinnerless from Chislehurst.
1 was staying at Claridge's in the early spring
of [876. 1 had my usual rooms on the ground
floor of the Davies Street entrance; a charming
MY MEMOIRS
suite of rooms, so much more quiet and private
than the Brook Street houses, the first floor of
which this particular year was occupied by the
Empress of Austria and her suite. I dare say
many people remember the awful storm of the
last days of March, when in a few hours the
ground was heavily covered with snow, telegraph
wires and posts torn down, trees blown about
and trains impeded. The Empress of Austria and
two of her ladies had gone by appointment on a
visit to the Empress Eugenie. They were in the
train en route for Chislehurst when the storm
broke over them. On arriving at the station the
hurricane had already made such havoc that it
was almost impossible to cross over and get to
the carriages in waiting. One of the ladies, being
in delicate health, was wheeled to the carriage on a
porter's luggage truck. The storm continued with
such intensity that it was nearly eleven o'clock at
night when they again reached Claridge's, having
been away since three o'clock. No dinner had
been offered to them at Camden Place. They
were very hungry, very tired, almost ill, and
they complained bitterly of the want of hospitality
shown them.
Miss James, the housekeeper, an old friend
of mine, was eloquent on the subject. I spent
part of so many winters and springs at Claridge's
in those days that it was almost like home.
I had known the hotel well in my halcyon days
278
THE EX-EMPRESS
wlu-n it was Mivart's and 1 a somebody
inci
In spite "t his threat, Prince Pierre did not
kill himself. He died, however, and after his
death his widow was taken up and helped by
members of the Bonaparti t party, principally, 1
am told, by M. Paul d< ( nac. Her son,
Prince Roland, is now well known in England
as in Paris, a great ir, as were most of the
Lucien branch of the family. He married an
heiress, Mile. Marie Plane of Monte Carlo fame,
who died at the birth of her first child, a daughter,1
leaving Prince Roland all her fortune. As I
have mentioned M. Paul de ' mac, I may
say here that he and Prince Napoleon were at
one time at daggers drawn. There was some
very serious political misunderstanding between
them, the Empress holding entirely with M. de
Cassagnac. 1 cannot remember what the details
were sufficiently to do more than register the t
In April, Mr. Garden and his younger brother
went on a shooting expedition to South Africa.
My mntlvr remained with me and I took a house
at Brighton, when- we spent the month ol Maw
I went down to Southampton with Mr. Garden,
as I wanted to see him off. During my two days'
absence I left the Princess with Miss Garden, Mr.
1 Prince Roland Bonaparte's daughter lately married
I'riii' Geoi G Queen Alexandra ;
but this, of course, is since Princess Caroline's death.
279
MY MEMOIRS
Garden's eldest sister, at a hotel in Albemarle
Street where we often stayed. The house in
Lowndes Square had been given up. On my
return to town I found the Princess very bored
and rather haughty. She complained that she
had not been properly treated at the hotel. She
was not accustomed to an omelette for dinner — and
no sweet. She supposed it was because she was
alone that a breakfast mets had been served for
dinner. I had unfortunately neglected to order
for the Princess during my absence, and Miss
Garden did not know that it was not correct.
I remember when I first came to Redisham on
a visit, I could not get accustomed to the Suffolk
repasts, and Mr. Garden very kindly sent to
London for our old chef Francois, who stayed
with my father through our troubles, and came
and taught them how to order and how to cook
a dinner. Now I can eat anything or nothing
indifferently.1
In January 1874 I went to meet my father,
who came over from Paris and was staying at
Brown's Hotel for a few weeks. Then I went
on, in February, to Mrs. Hankey, a very old
friend of my mother's, for the festivities given
for the Duke of Edinburgh's wedding. We
went to see the illuminations and I thought
1 In point of fact the Princess Caroline was rendered
indifferent in this matter by the necessity of living mainly
on a regimen of dry toast during the last few years of her life.
280
THE EX EMPRESS
them the poorest 1 had ever seen. ral
dinner-parties we had with Lord Mori on and
Alfred Rothschild. I lingered on at Portland
Pla< I had Tim and her nurse with me.
I [rove to Camden PI to introduce my
daughter to the Em] 1 had asked the
Empress to be her godmother, but she hesitated
and said, after consultin ' irdinal Manning, she
did not think shi : unless 1 would
allow the child to be a Catholic. Mr. Gardi
had not objected, but on reflection I did not
think it \ and so it was decided that she
should bear the Empress's name and she was
accordingly christened 1 . nie Jacqueline ; my
mother, who at that time had not become a
I tholic, standing Imother.
The Empress was working at her embroiderv-
frame when 1 arrived, and, as we wanted to chat,
I sent the nurse away and we put the child down
to roll and crawl about the floor. I was much
interested in what the Empress was saying. She
had heard different reports respecting some busi-
s transactions ot my second brother, Prince
Achille Murat. She, as always, had been told
very i ed accounts by her entoura I
really knew nothing very authentic about the
matter, but I promised to make inquiries at the
fountain head and let her know the truth. As it
happened, 1 was able to ascertain. Mr. Garden
had a lawsuit about a horse with one of tin- Paris
MY MEMOIRS
horse-dealers and had sent his English solicitor
over to attend to the case in court. I told the
Empress this and assured her that I would in-
struct Mr. Frome to see the Prince and would let
her know as soon as possible, but I felt sure she
need not be too anxious as I was certain that
nothing of the kind she anticipated had occurred.
The following two letters, one from the solicitor,
one from the Empress, will show how right I
was in defending my brother from the accusation
wrongfully brought against him.
Grand Hotel, Paris,
le 3me- Febry, 1874.
My dear Princess Caroline,
Your letter of Friday was sent on to me
here, where I have been staying since Saturday.
I saw the Prince Achille on Sunday and found
that both he and the Princess have been all
heavy losers by the Spanish Bank. I shall see
the Count de Choiseul and also the Prince Achille
again this afternoon, when I shall learn more par-
ticulars. But I hasten to answer your letter lest
you may think it has not reached me. On my
return to town I will call and give you all the
information I can learn on the subject. As far as
I can at present make out, the Princess has lost
over ,£3,000. I believe it is a very bad affair.
I return to England to-morrow night.
Believe me, I remain,
Very faithfully yours,
Charles T. Frome.
The Princess Caroline Murat.
282
THE EX-EMPRESS
hurst,
■ •
Ma i
I vous renvoie la lettre q is m'avez
em D'a rensei ^nments, ce net lit
pas seulement une ] nt que nous devions
craindre, mai« est pire, un scandale.
Dieu veuille que ce ne soit pas! . . . Ma pauvre
cousine est bien a plaindre! fe vous prie de me
tenir au courant de l'affaire, si vous le /■ ..
I votre jolie petite fille et croyez a tous
mes sentiments affectueux.
Eugenie.
Translation, i
Camden Place, Chislehurst,
/ ruary 7, 1874.
My dear Niece,
I send you lack the letter that you sent
to me. According to information given me, it
is not only a loss of money th it we had to tear,
but also what would be still worse, a scandal.
i ise G I that this may not be! My poor
cousin is very much to be pitied ! 1 beg you to
keep me au coiirant ol the affair, if you can do so.
Kiss your pretty little girl for me and believe in
ni)- affection.
Eugenie.
Before leaving 1 was curious to hear about the
Prince Imperial's coming of age, which would be
on the 1 6th of March. 1 learnt that great re
joicings were in preparation. It was proposed
that a pilgrimage of some thousands ot people
2»3
MY MEMOIRS
should come to Camden Place. The Prince
Imperial had himself written to ask the Prince
Napoleon to be present, but the Prince had re-
fused. His withdrawal after the Emperor's funeral,
the attitude since preserved towards him, the
enmity with which the Prince himself had been
taught to regard him, his misunderstandings with
the Empress, all made it easy for me to see the
motives which had prompted him to decline the
invitation. I regretted his decision for many
reasons, but I held my peace ; speaking would
be of no avail. What could the " pot de terre
contre le pot de fer " do but break ? After tea I
took leave of her Majesty, deciding to remain in
town till after the 16th. I sent child and nurse
back to Redisham a few days later and moved to
the Pulteney Hotel, where some of my friends
from France where staying — Prince Alexander
de Wagram, Marquis d'Herisson — and on the
1 6th we journeyed down to Chislehurst in com-
pany. Eight thousand people of all classes had
come from every point of France to greet the
Prince Imperial. Willis's Rooms had been chosen
for the purpose of distributing permission to enter
the grounds of Camden Place. During all day
on the 14th and 15th crowds had assembled at
the doors, pressing, pushing for admittance, eager
to get the cards for the 16th. The cards were
very simple, bearing only the inscription —
284
THE EX EMPRESS
\
1 Linden 1 '. hisleharst
March 16th, 1874.
Admit M
The 1 6th was a perfectly heavenly day. I
never saw a brighter English sky. " Queen's
Lther " as we say hi In the old days of
nee I should have said " soleil d'Austerlitz,"
but there is no "soleil d'Austerlitz" in these
da .
At ten o'clock a Low Mass was said at the
little Church of St. Mary to the memory of the
late Emperor. The Empress and the Prince
walked back side by side. On the lawn in the
shade of a large cedar tree two tents had been
placed, one large enough, I should say, tor two
or three thousand people, with an estrade in the
ntre, the other, a smaller one, was reserved for
bu!tet> m\(\ tables that groaned under the weight
"t the preparations for the entertainment of such
numerous guests. Round these tents eighty-six
posts were 1 at intervals, each post bearing
in large letters the name of one of the eighty-six
departments of France. An unfortunate idea, it
:med to me, as it brought so forcibly to every
mind the two missing ones, Alsace and Lorraine.
Si mding on the estrade in the centre of the tent,
tlie Duke de Padua addressed the Prince in the
285
MY MEMOIRS
name of all those present and absent who were
still faithful to the name of Napoleon.
The Prince Imperial, standing with the Em-
press and family and officials of his household
grouped around him, replied in calm, measured
tones, speaking so distinctly that each word could
be heard by all.
This was his maiden speech ; I thought ot
our dead Emperor. How proud he would have
been could he have heard, could he have seen
the son he so worshipped, on this his eighteenth
birthday !
We caught a late train back to the Pulteney,
and had a gay dinner and evening. The next
day all my friends left for Paris, and my heart
was like a ballroom when all the guests are gone
and the lights are put out. I returned drearily to
Suffolk, envying those who, more fortunate than
myself, could breathe the air of France.
News from South Africa came very rarely,
and at long intervals. Mr. Garden was travelling
up-country in pursuit of big game. His last
letter had intimated that he should be away
nearly a year longer. As the year 1874 was
drawing to a close my patience gave way. I felt
weary and homesick. I determined to go to
Paris and regain a little courage for the fight with
life. I stayed in Paris over the new year, and
saw the dawn of 1875 from a pied a terre in the
Boulevard Malesherbes. What a change ! How
286
THE EX-EMPRESS
dii tit all was from what 1 had known. We
were all dispersed ; no 1
I ;tivities ; no bouqm trinkets from
devoted admirer
My mother was with my sister at Mouchy,
my eldest brother at ( <r ibois, my brother
Achille in the Caucasus, but my lather was with
me. We both wished we might go away any-
where—to he thus in Paris wa iter pain than
pleasure. Also " Dattie, is rim was then called,
. a young lady of not quite two years. She
disliked every thing around her, would eat nothin
called French bread sour, cried for batter pudding
and gravy and beer, said it was all nasty when it
was with difficulty procured, and proceeded to be
sick every time she touched food. I decided to go
to Pau for the remainder of the winter. I took
a small pavilion belonging to the 1 [dtel de France,
and there, with rather a large suite, Mr. Garden
found us on his return in the month ot April.
H- rather put out at my being abr ad, as he-
had telegraphed from Madeira for me to me< t
him at hampton, and not very pleased at
finding me settled with a retinue of servants, as
1 had thought it n try to take two nurses as
well as a maid and a lady companion, also my
owai and my father's valet, and a gentleman who
always accompanied the Prin
S >on after Mr. Garden's arrival the men
went off together on a fishing expedition to
287
MY MEMOIRS
Germany, and I returned to England, and went
for a few weeks to Richmond.
Mr. Garden wrote and gave me their address,
" Pike Hotel, Lucerne." They wrote and wrote
again and complained that no letters had reached
them. I might have known that it was one of
an Englishman's practical jokes ; but I was
younger in those days, and very unaccustomed
to jokes being played on me. Yet I honestly
confess I was more than stupid not to see that the
address should have been " Hotel du Brochet,"
and that " Pike Hotel" would not be understood
by German locals, and so my letters came back
with " Insiifficient address!' I was very angry,
and remained in indignant silence till their
return.
I have omitted to relate three things which
took place in the summer of 1875, while Mr.
Garden was away. The marriage of Colonel
Bonham with Gina Sheriff comes first to my
mind. It was a pretty country marriage — tents
on the lawn — refreshments, toasts and speeches.
The people in great form were Lady Stradbroke
and Colonel Chester, who told me he had been to
Chislehurst in 1872 and had had a very long
political conference with the late Emperor — a
conference in which the Emperor had spoken very
openly of his hopes and plans for the future, not
disguising the fact that he was organizing things
for the restoration of the Empire, and his abdi-
288
THE EX EMPRESS
tion in favour ol his son. I was highly enti
tained, as I knew th< lot one word of truth
from beginning to end. Whatever the Em ror's
ideas may have been I am sure
them to Colonel Chester, nor do 1 think Colonel
Chester was ever at Camden Pla e. The Mis
(.'Luke from Worlingham were in their high l
spirits. I had gi ver with a pair ol perch
— French post-horses and a postilion. 1 drove
awa) a few moments before the brick: and br
im. Presently, ab iut two hundred yards
down tin- road, Miss Garden and mysell were
literally pelted with rice, slippers, and every con
ceivable horror. The horses shied across the
• !, and the man had some trouble in controlling
them. We thought it rather a bad joke, but the
Clarkes were highly delighted at their success and
shouted with laughter. Lady Stradbroke gave
.i dance to celebrate the wedding. Fireworks
were going on at some little distance in front
of the house. I talked for some time to 1.
Stradbroke, quite a t\ pe of the old .school, and to
Lord Waveney, whom I knew very well ; I so
often went to Flixton, which, according to my
ideas, was by a long way the best kepi and the:
finest place in these parts ; and he spoke ot de
Caux and Patti. Lord Waveney said he met
de Caux at dinner, he was a good talker yes,
very sufficient for himself, but very insufficient
for others. lie was for a long time in the
MY MEMOIRS
Emperor's household, but had to give up his
position on account of his marriage, as no one
could marry a singer and hold their position at
Court. I asked for my carriage early, and had
my foot on the steps when a sudden rocket
startled my horses and they bolted with door
open, steps down, and footman nearly knocked
off his feet. Lady Stradbroke shouted for the
police, who arrived, but were not of much avail
in arresting my two runaways. Eventually the
coachman mastered them and they were brought
back. Miss Garden was already in the carriage,
and a Miss Arnold whom I had brought to
Henham ; I had also offered a seat to a man
staying with us, who had been to Southwold for
the day, and walked back to Henham and got
into the carriage before it drove up for us. Miss
Arnold, not knowing any one was in the carriage,
was rather frightened when the horses bolted, and
being thrown forward, clutched the unfortunate
man by the head, knocked his hat off, and left a
very serious impression on it before she could
regain her seat.
Two or three nights later we went to a ball at
Mr. Doughty 's. I danced once with the master
of the house. There was supper par petites
tables, as we say in French. Every one pushed
to try to get to the top of the room to Lady
Stradbroke's table. I thought it very vulgar
behaviour, and wondered why Suffolk people
290
THE EX-EMPRESS
i so ignorant in comparison with Lon
and the people I met in town. I was I
Suffolk had been p and n waking up.
1 wo people were m >st rude and ill man I — a
Mr. and Mrs. II . I suppose it was in some
way intimated to them, for a day or two after
they came to call. My carriage was drawn up
and I was just coming out of the door. I lool
at them, I I and smiled as amiably as I could
and, stepping into my carriage, dr »ff. 1 am
glad to say we never met again, nor do I know
it they are now alive. Miss Garden was slightly
fluttered, as she had known them all her life.
1 - 291
CHAPTER XII
THE PRINCE IMPERIAL
I am rebuffed by the Empress — The Prince Imperial at Cowes
— The Orleans Club — Spiritualism — Death of my father —
A crowning blow — The amiable qualities of the Empress
Eugenie — Her superstitions — The Zulu war — The Prince
Imperial volunteers — General Fleury — The Prince's equip-
ment— The question of his will — His last night in England
—"Too late!"— The Duchess Malakoff— Zizi d'Arcos—
"The Four Widows" — Funeral of the Prince Imperial —
Queen Victoria and Princess Beatrice — Incidents in the
Highlands — "Je Suis Louis Quatorze "
The Empress was at all times — even in exile —
very strict with regard to etiquette. I forget,
but I think it was for the ist of January, 1896,
that I received an invitation to dinner at Camden
Place. I went up to Claridge's, thinking it rather
an expensive command. The train was somewhat
late, and by the time my maid had unpacked
and I was dressed, we were too late to think of
catching the train to Chislehurst by which the
other guests would travel and find carriages at
the station to meet them. Mr. Garden ordered
a landau, and we posted full speed, but the driver,
as ill-luck would have it, lost his way. The night
292
THE PRINCE [MPERIAL
was dark. Mr. Garden got out and looked
around to take his bearings, and put us on the
right road. All this lost time, and it was nearly
nine o'clock when we arrived at Camden 1'!
As the dinner hour was 8.30 our reception was
more than cool, although I was profuse in apolo-
The Empress said she would never ask
me to dinner again. She could not understand
why I could not come by train like other people.
It v. ily that I liked to give myself airs, she
add I mentioned that 1 had come up from
Suffolk ; but this observation was ignored. At
last 1 was allowed to take my scat by tlw Prince
Imperial, who was, as always, amiable and kind.
Mr. Garden was too furious for thoughts,
and I so confused I could not cat. The Prince
chatted, and after a while I recovered and chaffed
him about his flirtations with a Spanish lady, a
Mine , a great friend of the Empress. He
said she was still a very pretty woman. I laughed
and said, " Monseigneur, je ne savais pas que
vous aimiez les jambes tie hois." He answered,
"En effet je les preTeres plus I es — en bouchon
par example." Ii was said that the lady had a
cork leg.
It was the last New Year I ever spent with
her Maje ity and the Prince.
In die summer of that year 1 was asked to
go lor die ( owes week on hoard Mr. \ . Wood's
yacht, the Corinne. Something went wrong with
MY MEMOIRS
the yacht, at the last hour, and we took rooms at
the Marine Hotel, Cowes, to wait for the neces-
sary repairs. At the hotel, which was crammed,
I found I was next to Lady George Lennox.
Our balconies touched. She had a Miss Melita
Ponsonby with her, an old maid who always did
duty for the different members of the Lennox
family. I made her acquaintance many years
after at Brighton when she was with Lady Alex-
ander Lennox. Some of her sayings are tradi-
tional. On the other side was Mrs. Standish,
a very pretty Frenchwoman, married to Henry
Standish, half English, half French, being the son
of the Duke de Mouchy's aunt, Mile, de Noailles,
who married a Mr. Standish, very rich, but for
some reason, after the birth of her second son,
Cecil, they separated, and she lived entirely in
France with her two sons, who were brought
up with the Duke de Mouchy, whose mother
died when he was quite young. Henry Standish
had always remained on the best of terms with
his father, came often to England to visit him,
and inherited a large fortune at his death. On
the evening of my arrival I heard from my maid
that rooms had been retained for the Prince
Imperial. I thought I was clever at guessing,
but I was mistaken this time. Before the Prince
came, Mrs. Standish had the honour of a visit
from H.R.H. the Prince of Wales. I was reading
on my balcony when my attention was suddenly
294
THE PRINCE EMPERIAL
drawn to two genl :i laughing and talking
below. I was surprised to see Henry Standish
ami Mr. Francis Knoll) The) walked up and
down, I should say, for nearly an hour. I was so
astounded at what I con I Henrv Standish's
inconceivable behaviour that I i 1 my
opinion openly. I was told that it was correct
etiquette for the husband to entertain Mr. Francis
Knollys, or any one else in attendance, when so
august a personage dad a lady the honour of a
visit.
I had a large basket of beautiful grapes put in
the Prince Imperial's room on his arrival. Two
things disappointed me : First, the person who
accompanied the Prince was Adolphe Clary, and
I knew he would make himself as disagreeable as
he dared. Next, the yacht was longer in repair-
ing than had been expected, and I was not able
to entertain the Prince on board as I had wished
to do. The Prince, on the morning after his
arrival at C<>\ves, sent for me to come and see
him. We were on the point of sitting down to
lunch. Mr. Garden was a person unaccustomed to
Court life, and thought an Englishman's luncheon
waited lor no man. I had to make my excuses
and say I would come an hour later. 'Phis put
Clary in a rage. Reordered the Prince's carria;
tor th'' hour I had named and scarcely allowed us
ten minutes' conversation.
I was grieved to find the Prince looking ill
MY MEMOIRS
and tired, with his arm in a sling. I asked him
if he had been to the wars. He told me he went
down to Aldershot with a very gay party. After
dinner they called on him to make a speech. He
said he would rather give them a song, which
he did, standing on a table. There was much
laughing and cheering, but some young fellow,
gayer than the rest, tipped up the table suddenly.
The Prince lost his balance and fell backwards
on to the grate where a big fire was burning,
the table falling on him. Before any one could
reach him, his arm was badly burned. He said
he felt still very unwell, although several weeks
had elapsed since his accident. Clary was knock-
ing at the door for the second time, so we took
our leave. The Prince said he had only come
for a day or two for a garden/"^ being given at
Eaglehurst, the pretty place occupied by the
Bathyani's. I knew Mme. Bathyani slightly,
having met her once or twice on her visits to
her sister, Mme. Bornemann, who was one of my
oldest friends in Paris. Mme. Bathyani had her
niece, Anna Bornemann, with her. Rather a
pretty girl, who married Comte Lutzow.
When the Corinne appeared in the waters
of the Solent I went on board and spent a day or
two off Ryde. On returning to London I went
to Camden Place before burying myself in Suffolk.
The Empress was in excellent spirits, with quite
a crowd of French people round her, all strolling
296
1 111 I'l : MAI.
THE PRINCE [MPERIAL
or sitting on the lawn. Princess Poniatow
among others, who s< emed in one oi her frivolous
moods, was catching the Empress's hand and
biting, or pretending to bite, her little finger.
There v. idently some j< lo 1 did not under
stand. The Prince Imperial was practising
athK-tic sports with two of his frien
While all this was going on the Emp was
endeavouring to read me som< tter
she had just received from Kin arofSweden,
which related to my youngest brother, who after
[870 was sent by the Emperor to King Char!
and was given by him a position in his military
household, lie remained with the Kin-, who
became very fond of him, and wished lor him
constantly during his illness. The Kin-' died in
tember 1872. My brother told me his
greatest trial had been keeping watch through
two nights of the lying in state u\ the dead
sovereign. 1 !<• left Sweden when King Oscar
came to the throne, and shortly after, in November
1873, married a Russian, Princess Orbeliani. It
was about the christening of their first son to
whom he was to stand godfather that Kin 1 1 ar
had written.
Finding it quite impossible that 1 should hear
or understand what she was reading to me, the
Empress handed me the letter, saying, " Put it in
your pocket. You can read it at your leisure and
cop) the parts that interest Louis — bring it hark
297
MY MEMOIRS
the next time you come." I was rather tired
in the evening when I got. back to Claridge's, and
thought no more of the letter. The next morning,
long before the usual hour for my maid to call
me, I heard a great knocking at my door. I was
afraid something had happened to the children
left in the country. I called out to know, and was
angry but relieved when the porter said it was a
note from Camden Place and that an answer was
required. I told him the messenger must wait
or return later, as I objected to being disturbed
before my usual time. When my maid came with
my breakfast she brought me the note. As I
had suspected from the first it was from Clary,
saying he was directed to ask me to return the
King's letter per bearer. Gamble, the head of
the stables, was the messenger. I told him I
had not taken notes from the letter according to
the Empress's wish, and would send it by mes-
senger some time in the afternoon. Gamble said
his orders were not to return without it, so the
poor man, much to his disgust, had to wait a
considerable time. What capital Clary thought
we could make out of a letter of no particular
interest to any one, I could not fathom. Mr.
Garden was more than annoyed. I said I was
sure it was Clary's usual spite, but Mr. Garden
considered, and rightly, that having made use of
him in every possible way all through the autumn
and winter of 1870, having allowed him to go to
298
THE PRINCE IMPERIAL
and fr< nn Wilhelmsh . - her
taking her dispatches without her ever
offering to ; farthing oi the expensi
having i f main- times given him a numl
litis t which ha<l
him a small fortune of which no payment h
even ' ted, he vi ntitled :rt tin
nount of courtesy, and at all events civil treat-
ment "from her paid flunkeys," as he put it.
How littli the Empres How little he
knew th tematic rudeness which was carrii
on by her Court officials at the 1 iil ri 3 and
which continued Mil a small scale at Chislehurst !
Many others, like Mr. Gard It and said they
had never received the most trifling acknowledge
ment of all they had done and spent for her
Majesty at the time of her flight and afterwards.1
The very first free day I went to see the
Em] ind hoped to have some light thrown
on the incident, but I was to elucidal
nothin The Prince and I talked together a
1 At the time of Napoleon's death the fortune of the
was considerable. Apart from the value of I
jewel-, and her properties in Spain, she owned three houses in
the Rue d 1 In mputed to . 0,000, two build
s in Rue d'Albe worth ^36,000, estates at Solferino
o,oco, Jouchere / :o,ooo, Uiarrit/ ,£,40,000, the Imperial
Marseill tate in th< I Pyren«
, S.ooo, and >oo in cash, which, increased by legacies
and thrift, gave her a total ino not le . 0,000
a year.
299
MY MEMOIRS
long time. He said how dull life was at Camden
Place. We were going to take a party to
Greenwich for a fish dinner on the Sunday fol-
lowing. Mr. Garden was to drive us down on a
coach. I told the Prince it would give me real
pleasure if he would join us. He said he was too
sorry, he would have enjoyed it immensely, but
it was impossible. I pressed him, asking why.
Had he a previous engagement ? He said he
was certain the Empress would object. " Do let
me ask," I ventured to say. " I am sure I can
induce her to let you come." The Prince got
rather red and said, " Non ! ma cousine, je ne
demande jamais rien, parceque je n'admets pas
que Ton me refuse." I was grieved and surprised,
I had no idea of the state of things, though of
course I had heard rumours that the Prince was
not his own master.
The next day I went to Bayswater to see my
old uncle a la mode de Bretagne, Prince Louis
Lucien. I wanted to talk the matter over with
him. He was absolutely devoted to the Prince,
and strongly advised me to accept his decision
and keep what he had said to myself. It was
good advice, and I strictly adhered to it. He
said at times the Prince was wonderfully young
and gay, and amused me by relating that the last
evening he had spent at Chislehurst there was a
great hue and cry because the Prince was nowhere
to be found. Clary had announced dinner and
300
THE PRINCE IMPERIAL
the Em waiting imp ti tly while tl
irch continued up-stairs and down, insi id
out, high and low. The Empress at last w
goiiiLj' in to dinner with Print Louis Lucien, when
passing through th< heard a cockcrow.
Look hind them they saw the missing culprit
ited on the top of a very high screen. He
jumped down, begged pardon lor his joke —
pardon which ii seems was not as cordially given
as he h id antici] I i in understand it,
personally 1 should have been perfectl) furious it
one of my children had ever played such a joke
on me — mo ially on a guest night.
r me i S 7 7 was a very quiet year. I
cannot remember any event worth recording
except tin: birth of my second daughter. M\
father and mother passed the summer with me,
my lath- r leaving a week or two before the child's
birth. All through the fall of the year I was
ill. My mother did not return to France till
August. Early in iS;S we engaged rooms at
Claridge's and spent the winter in town. I saw
a great deal of Miss Sykes — and of her friends,
Lord Ranelagh, and his daughter, Emmy Jones.
One of Lord Ranelagh's daughters was married
to Mr. Le Breton, Mrs. Langtry's brother. The
Other was unmarried at the time 1 knew her but
married, Liter on, Mark Napier who went out to
Egypt, as it may be remembered, as the chosen
barrister to defend Arabi Pasha. Miss Sykes
3QI
MY MEMOIRS
was also very intimate with Lady Archibald
Campbell. She was anxious I should give them
all a dinner at the Orleans Club which was just
then the great fashion. To dine at the Orleans
was the proper thing to do. Lady Archibald
was a firm believer in spirits. She had been
converted by a Mr. Williams whom I thought a
very second-rate medium — certainly no one who
had known Daniel Home could be in the least
impressed by him. At dinner the conversation
turned to this topic and some one sitting by Lady
Archibald said, " I will believe in your spirits if
they will tell me the winner of this year's Derby."
She turned angrily to me and said in a loud
voice : " Princess, I had no idea you would ask
so commonplace a person to meet us." I was
rather annoyed, as the commonplace person
happened to be the member of the Orleans who
was giving me the dinner. A day or two after
we went, Lady Archibald, Miss Sykes and myself,
to a stance at Mr. Williams'. We were ushered
into a dark room, very small, with a table in the
centre and curtains behind, with a door which led
evidently into a small room or closet. Lady A.
had a cold, and a familiar spirit was evoked who
seemed quite at home and proved to have a
soothing effect. I confess I saw absolutely
nothing, and went away very disappointed. I
had heard such wonders talked of in advance.
In the evening I went to Princess Malcolm Khan,
302
THE PRINCE IMPERIAL
and we had i good laugh my advent r
Another friend of Miss Sykes she intr 1 to
me, was the sister of a man called Ja. im
I had known in the carbineers when they came to
irwich. Col. Napier broughthim once to shi
at Redisham. I liked the sister better than the
brother. She was handsome and very
company. ' olonel Nassau 1 who had a
pretty house in Piccadilly, was a friend ol Lord
Ranelagh's. At one of his dinners I had next
me Baker Pasha. To my surprise he did not
look in the least like a 1 )on Juan, nor did he talk
like one. I thought him of Arcadian simplicity.
I was more and more convinced he had been un-
justly treated, and I longed to tell him so. It was
not till later that he became Pasha I made the
acquaintance of Sir Samuel Baker and his two
unmarried daughters at a concert at Sir Henry
Rawlinson's. The house was very small and
crowded. The .staircase — as in most cases in
English entertainments — being tin.- most com-
fortable place. The Misses baker thought they
aid sing, and were among the performers of this
amateur concert. The Empress was much inter-
ted in Sir Samuel Baker's travels, and both he
and Lad) Baker were \<r\ kindly received at
1 amden Pla<
The winter had slipped away, and we were all
planning a large party and luncheon ^n board a
steam launch for the boat race, which that year
3° 3
MY MEMOIRS
was, I fancy, to take place on the 13th day of
April. My father, who had for a long time been
in delicate health, was not so well, so my letters
said, but the English newspapers were giving
rather alarming accounts — I was preparing to go
to Paris, when I received a letter, saying my
father was very much better, and there was no
occasion for my presence. I still was undecided,
feeling half inclined to ignore the advice and go
and see for myself. I sent a telegram and heard
he was better. This was Tuesday, the 9th of
April. On Wednesday about eleven o'clock I
got a telegram saying my father had died that
morning at nine o'clock.
I will not attempt to speak of my sorrow —
nor will I accuse any one. Mr. Garden thought
that I was not in a frame of mind to go to Paris.
It was alas! too late. He strongly urged my
remaining in London and letting him go without
me. I could not bear to do this, and decided to
see the children at Redisham before crossing to
France. I came here, arriving by the last train,
and was forced to leave to catch the night boat
from Dover the next day. I was after all prevented
going. When I reached London I was feeling
so ill I had to let Mr. Garden go alone. I cannot
describe my solitude. I could not help thinking
that I might have had a line, a word of sympathy
from the Empress, the only person of the family
in England. None came, but knowing what had
3°4
THE PRIN( E [MPERIAL
been d< >ne in ca r ' Lti\ es I u
irtain a Ma oild be said at Chislehurst on
the day of the funeral. No words
what I felt on being told that the Empress \s
lunching at Marl; h House with a lar
party of guests invite 1 to meet some foreign
Prim e. This at the very hour of the funeral service
in Paris. It was the crowning blow. I was
wound 1 to t irt. Such public di :ct to
the dead — such disregard for the living. Yet
the Em] Eugenie is one of the most devout,
one of the most fervent of Catholics. With her,
religion, as with most Spaniards, is rapturous,
exalted fanaticism. To hurt, to wound, to crush
those over whom you have power? She was the
Empress — the mother, as we hoped, of our future
Emperor. From that day to this no mention of
what I am relating ha r passed my lips. It
has been buried in my heart during all these long
irs. If I could have cried my indignation to
the world I might perhaps have felt less bitter.
Nevertheless, let me say that the Empress
Eugenie has many great and noble qualities.
Otherwise how could she have so endeared herself
to the Emperor, who trusted her implicitly, and
gained over him the influence which carried us
to our ruin2 With the Empress everything is
impulse-. She is always swayed by the feeling of
the moment. She can be most generous to a
fallen foe. She forgives with admii I ' ■ ir-
u 3°5
MY MEMOIRS
ance and sweetness an injury done her by one she
loves. She can be gracious and fascinating as no
one else when she chooses. She can acknowledge
an error, make an apology, say mea culpa with
infinite charm. I am going to tell two instances
of her enviable power of humiliating herself.
M. Achille Fould was Prime Minister. At
this time the Empress was present at all Cabinet
Councils held at the Tuileries in the Salle des
Conseils. On the day of which I am speaking
some very important political question was under
discussion. The Empress was more than usually
excited. Without reflecting, allowing her feelings
to get the better of her prudence, she addressed
M. Fould in a tone and manner which he con-
sidered offensive. He left the room, and im-
mediately afterwards sent in his resignation. The
moment was a critical one ; any change of minis-
try would in all probability have occasioned most
serious results. It would, of course, be interest-
ing if I could say what the question was ; but that
belongs to history, and I could not trust my
memory sufficiently to mention it in memoirs.
The Emperor was greatly disturbed, what was to
be done ? M. Fould refused to remain in office.
Neither the Emperor nor his colleagues could
persuade him to overlook this public offence*
Everything was at sixes and sevens when the
Empress herself came to the rescue. Nobly sacri-
ficing her own pride, she wrote a most charming
306
THE PRINCE IMPERIAL
noteto M. Fould, asking his forgn ;, and hum-
bling herself to request as a personal favour and
token of his pardon that he would withdraw his
ignation. He answered her appeal, thanking
her, and at once b< I ol the Emperor that 1
might retain his portfol
I admired the Empre s for this act, the more
so that I did not feel quite sure I should have
had the courage so to lower my pride. Again,
wh<-n Regent, the Empress was wrongly informed
as to a certain person in an official position of
some importance in one of the departments.
With a stroke of her pen, and by telegraphic
dispatch, she revoked him. The accusation had
been that he was acting the part of a traitor. The
unfortunate man, who was entirely devoted to the
Imperial cause, was struck with horror at this
sudden blow : we were told that his hair became
white in one night. Years after, at Camden
PI ice, in 1S74, on the occasion of the coming of
age of the Prince Imperial on his eighteenth
birthday, the Empress ordered that an invitation
he sent to M. , and before hundreds of
Frenchmen assembled, who had come over to
greet tin- Prince, she went up to him and pub-
licly made amende honorable for what slu: had
clone, acknowledging, I believe, that she had in
haste misjudged him and committed an act ot
cruel injustice which she deeply regretted, or
something to this effect. 1 was not near enoi
U 2 J07
MY MEMOIRS
to hear the actual words, nor should I perhaps
remember accurately.
Achille Fould, Minister of Finance, was much
favoured at one time at Court. He took ad-
vantage of his position to give himself airs and
behave in a most ridiculously patronizing way
to the Emperor's family. I remember at the
marriage ceremony of the Emperor, Fould coming
into the so-called salon de famille, where all the
Princes and Princesses of the family as well as
all the Ministers and dignitaries of the Empire
awaited the entrance of Napoleon and his bride.
He seemed himself to want to claim the dignity
of Majesty, bowing graciously to right and left
and offering his hand to some of the more highly
favoured. He stopped to speak to my father and
held out his hand with a very condescending air.
The Prince only shrugged his shoulders, saying :
" Pass on, I never give my hand to such as you."
Fould, somewhat surprised, hesitated and asked
for an explanation ; but the Prince, not being of
a very enduring nature, said: "Pass on, and
quickly. Take care that you do not make me
repeat it." The Emperor wrote to my father
remonstrating with him and complaining that he
had ill-treated one of his Ministers at the wedding.
The Prince replied that to oblige the Emperor
and avoid offending him in future, he would
refrain from being present at the Tuileries on
official occasions. The Emperor did all in his
308
THE PRINCE IMPERIAL
power to make m\ father see things in a different
light, but failed. All the Prince answered was:
"I will obey and come to the Tuileries, but not
even you, Sire, can induce me t<> shake hands
with a man I de »] »i
Like most persons who have experienced the
world's reverses and vicissitudes, the Empress
Eugenie yielded to a belief in omens and super-
stitions. Sin- wore a beautiful emerald. Where it
came from, or who gave it her, I never knew, but
after the death of the Emperor and the Prince,
she became very superstitious about it. She did
not wish to dispose of it, yet she did not care to
keep it in her possession. My sister said, "Oh,
give it to me ; I am not in the least superstitious."
The Empress, 1 believe, hesitated anil refused, so
certain did she: feel that the stone brought ill-luck.
She, however, yielded to persuasion and 14'ave the
emerald. Little more than a year elapsed when
my sister lost her only daughter, a lovely girl of
thirteen, carried oil in a few days by malignant
fever. Most people dislik lis on account of
the evil influence they are supposed to have on
the lives of those who wear them. The will of
my grandmother, the Queen of Naples, brought
me the gift of two bracelets — one a wide band of
black and white enamelled snakes holding a cameo
ol my grandfather, the other a plain gold band
with a huge opal in the centre.
Snakes as well as opals are said to be unluck) .
309
MY MEMOIRS
The snake bracelet, however, I was allowed to
keep, but the opal was immediately sold by my
father's orders. I have often wondered what
influence these doubly unlucky gifts have had on
my life. While I am on the topic of opals and
superstitions, I must relate one more instance.
After my mother's death, among the few things
sent me was a ring with three opals, a large one
in the centre and a smaller one on either side,
with a circle of black enamel round the ring. I
was foolishly annoyed that this ring should have
been selected to send to me. One afternoon in
London, a year later, the spring of 1880, Mrs.
Waldo Sibthorpe — a friend of Lady North's whom
I often met — came to see me, and in our chat over
our cup of tea I told her of the ring. She said,
" Do give it me ; I should so like to have it."
After discussing my feeling that it might bring
her ill-luck and my unwillingness to run the risk,
I allowed myself to be persuaded. She carried off
the ring in triumph. From that time misfortune
seemed to pursue her. For years now she has
been an invalid. No one knows how she has
suffered ; no one sees her. Two or three nurses are
in constant attendance. Before falling ill she had,
I believe, three deaths in her family — her father,
her mother, and her husband.
How absurd these superstitions seem ! Yet
one cannot help thinking that certain stones, like
certain dates, are unlucky to different people.
310
THE PRINCE IMPERIAL
I spent the summer of i ii R< im, with
the exception of paying one or two short visits.
Id the autumn we had some shooting parties and
house party at Christmas. I went to town
during the winter and spring ol 1879, staying at
Claridge's. I saw a good deal of Prince Louis
Lucien and we went several times to Camden
Place together. The war was the one topic there
as it was two years ago — the war with the Zulus-
war that cost France and us one life worth more
than the thousands that have been cruelly sacrifi
in this South African War, that has lasted nearly
two years. As I write these lines, fune i. 1902,
I hear peace has been declared to London by the
Lord Mayor, from the balcony of the Mansion
1 1< >use.
The- Prince Imperial was determined to take
part in the Zulu War. lie was tired of an idle
life .it Camden Place ; tired of waiting, longing to
doing something, longing to show them in
France that he was a soldier and worth}' to be
their Emperor. In the first moment of surprise
when his wish was communicated to the Empress
she opposed it violently. Soon, however, whethi r
by the Prince's persuasive powers or by her own
changeable mood — who can say? — she became
more eager than the Prince hims< The Duke
of Cambridge demurn lie said the responsi-
bility WOuld he tOO great the presence of the
Prince would create anxieties ami difficulties for
MY MEMOIRS
Lord Chelmsford. The Empress and the Prince
sought the Queen, and it was by Queen Victoria's
express permission that the Prince was allowed to
join the troops leaving for Zululand. It was said
that the Queen wished to give the Prince an
opportunity of distinguishing himself. M. Rouher,
chief of the Imperialist party, came on wings to
Chislehurst to prevent so mad a thing. Alas !
he was over-ruled.
It was then proposed that our Prince should
be accompanied by thirty young soldiers, many
his own friends with whom he had been brought
up. My nephew, Prince Joachim Murat, Conneau,
Corvisart, Bourgoing, all his own age, would have
defended him with their lives. The Empress de-
clined. She said if her son was to go to the war
it must be alone like any other soldier, trusting
himself, giving himself, to England. General
Fleury, among others, was eloquent in putting
before the Empress that the Prince belonged to
France — that he had no right to risk his life.
Nothing availed. The Prince was sent alone.
M. Rouher, who had been one of the
principal agents in creating for the Prince
Imperial the false position which made his life
at Camden Place so painful a one, now knelt,
and prayed the Prince, using every argument in
his power to induce him to abandon his project.
The Prince replied that the Queen had his word,
and that, having asked a favour, he would not
312
THE PRINCE [MPERIAL
break his promi I am told that General
Fleury's Mi left to be published after the
death of the Empress, will throw light on all
these questions. 1 wonder if they will explain
the parsimony which her Majesty exerci I
towards her son. It is certain that the Prince
constantly so short of money that he was
forced to refuse to join h t Woolwich
on many occasions, being unable to pay his share
of expenses. I remember during one of my
visits to town being told by Madame 13 the
following —
She said she had dined the day before with
leral Fleury, with whom she was most
intimate — that he deplored the position almost
of penury in which the Prince lived. lie said
that a luncheon was given by the Prince to
severed guests, himself among the number — that
when the account was brought the Prince saw
that it was much higher than he had anticipated,
and not having sufficient money by one or two
sovereigns, turned to thi I r< neral and asked if he
would be his banker. The luncheon was in the
public room at the St. fames —now the Berkeley.
All those who lived more or less at Court
under the Second Empire knew that General
Fleury, so devoted to the Emperor, was con-
stantly at variance with the Empress. After the
Emperor's death the General made a claim tor
payment for some horses he had bought for
MY MEMOIRS
H.M., which caused some displeasure. He also
at one time, later on, urged that the Prince
should be allowed a house in town for a season —
himself remaining with the Prince and seeing that
everything was on a proper footing, such as
befitted the Prince's position in London en
garfon. But the appeal was in vain.
The question of the Prince's equipment had
been a very serious one. General Fleury was of
opinion that the first makers in England should
receive orders for saddles, bridles and everything
that could be required. Money was, or should
have been, of no importance. The arguments
and discussions on the subject tired the Prince.
The Empress thought that the Stores could
supply ready-made saddlery at much less cost.
She had most probably been impressed by some
of those around her that the ready-made goods
were in every respect equal to those suggested
by General Fleury and others. Therefore the
Prince's entire outfit was bought at the Stores.
My readers will soon see why I insist on these
details, seemingly of little interest. The Prince
always did in every way just as the Empress
wished. Could he have given a greater proof of
this than the will he left behind him — of which,
at all events, the political part was dictated if not,
as some affirm, written for and copied by him ?
The few lines of legacies added the night before
he left Chislehurst alone emanated from the
3*4 •
THE PRINCE [MPERIAL
Prince himself. No one who knew the Prii
ild believe him capable of -
ing sentiments and naming a su< >r which
would, and must fatally disunite a party and
eparate a father and son. The heir to the
dynasty, failing the Prince Imperial, was by
lit of succession, the Prince Napoleon. Could
the Prince Imperial have wished to set aside the
father in favour of the son? He, so horn
just, so true in every action ^\ his too short life;
he who worshipped his father and had been the
Emperor's pupil in all political matters? Comte
d'HeTisson says in one of his books that two wills
written out by M. Rouher, the political leader of
the party, were handed to the Prince. Seeing
that he must choose one or the other he selected
the one he considered the more moderal .
Putting everything else aside, the Prince
Imperial knew that he had no right whatever
to designate a successor. The Prince Napoleon
was de facto rightful heir to the throne of France
— if we ignore divine right!
The Prince never wavered in his decision.
The die was cast . . . irrevocably. M. Quentin
Bauchart tells in his book, Fits d'Empereur, that
one day a short time before his departure, the
Prince and his friend Conneau were walking
'•tier when suddenly, as if inspired, the
Prince stopped, and looking up at a radiant sky
said hall aloud, as it to himself, " 1 his is perhaps
MY MEMOIRS
my last Spring." The evening before leaving
Camden Place the Prince requested that all the
servants in the place — many of whom had been
with him in France — should assemble in the hall,
that he might bid them good-bye. He passed
along, shaking hands with each and saying a few
words of farewell. They were all agitated, and
most of them in tears. The Prince alone was
cheerful, encouraging the old servants he had
known nearly all his life — bidding them look
forward to his return. I was not present, but I
heard all I am relating from different persons at
the time. This month of February I was in
Paris. I had been rather anxious about my
mother's health, and a friend of mine who had
gone over with Lady North and her daughter
en route for Nice, wrote me, saying from what
he heard, he thought I was left in ignorance of
the serious illness of the Princess, and advised
my coming immediately. I got this letter on
Saturday, the 8th of February, and left by the
first available boat, wiring for my brother to
meet me, as Mr. Garden was prevented leaving
with me. I heard on my arrival that there was
little, if any, hope. On Monday my mother died.
I cannot write all the sadness of her sufferings —
it was awful. I cannot dwell on these souvenirs,
but will only say that in consequence we were all
unable to be in England at the time of the
Prince's departure for South Africa. The night
316
THE PRINCE IMPERIAL
before he left there was a large dinner party at
1 . '. ' : for relations and friends.
My uncle, Louis Lucien, wl nt,
often told me about ih a dinner, and his praises of
the Prince were without end. 1 [e s lid his anxiety
for him on this perilous expedition was ver\ great.
I I- mentioned how touching on this evenin » were
the Prince's attentions to his mother, with what
and spirit he endeavoured to make the last
dinner cheerful —a difficult task when the depn
sion of each heart shows itself so plainly.
It was not, I believe, till twelve o'clock that the
Prince sought his mom, glad to 1".- alone, glad to
be able to think. The night was a dull and rainy
one, not unlike the night of years ago, his first
night at Camden Place. M. < hientin Bauchart
in his book tells us with infinite charm of imagina-
tion all the thoughts and feelings of the Prince,
in the few hours of solitude of that night. He
tells us that the Prince reviewed his whole life,
saw it all pass before him as in a panorama, saw
himself riding up the Champs Elysfe, passing
through the triumphal arch, acclaimed by the
multitude — heard once more the cries <>l "Vive
I'Empereur! Vive le Prince Imperial!' Saw
himself the hero of a short-lived hour at Saar
briii k saw himself flying for his life, after Sedan
— his arrival in England after the conflicting
1 It will be remembered th dnol iccompany
the Army to Sedan.
MY MEMOIRS
dispatches from the Emperor on the one hand and
the Empress on the other — his meeting with his
mother — the arrival of the Emperor at Dover
after the signature of the Versailles treaty. His
nine years at Chislehurst — melancholy years of
exile — the agony of his arrival from Woolwich
too late to see the Emperor alive — his rush to the
chamber of death, madly hoping to catch a last
breath, a sigh ! then his coming of age — the
brightness of the scene, the gay crowd, the
thousands of French voices lifted in cries of
" Vive l'Empereur ! " and through it all the voice
in his heart whispering, " Oh, that the dead could
hear ! could see ! . . . '; Turning from the window
where he had been standing, he sits at his writing-
table, his one lamp lighting the room : leaning his
head on his hands he tries to collect his thoughts : to
shut the dream from his mind : to face what is, not
what has been — taking his pen he writes his will.
He leaves the fortune left by the Princess Bacciochi
— about £ 1 2,000 a year, which by some reason he
was not to enjoy for several years to come — to his
mother, and legacies to four of his young friends
of "100 mille francs chaque," and other lega-
cies. He recommends his cousin, Prince Victor
Napoleon, to the Empress — then throwing down
his pen, he prays. . . .
Perhaps, who can say that he loses heart in
these moments of despair — at bidding adieu to all
318
THE PRINCE [MPER1AL
heretofoi loved, going forth alone to the great
Unknown. . . . Perhaps a presentiment ol evil
falls upon him. . . . Perhaps at last, the fully ol
his act overwhelms him. Perhaps, hi- rememl
St. Helena . . . too late! He, a Napoleon, has
promi ;ed to be a soldier of the ' )ueen ! I ■ •
for England! To wear the English uniform!
You see, like M. Bauchart, I am letting my
imagination wander— and here 1 must stop, as I
am sure that no such thought us the last expressed
was ever the Prince's. Such might, such would
have been my feelings had 1 been in his place —
but he was the beloved pupil of the Emperor, who
devoted the two years of his exile at Oiislehurst
to the Prin< e's i ducation politically, and to forming
the Prince's ideas and fashioning his mind according
to his own. The Prince's one ambition was to re-
semble the Emperor in every way. He even tried
to copy his walk. . . . The father's love of England
lived again in the son, and, speaking oi love, was
there not another English love which weighed in
the balance? Was there not the Princess Beatrice?
But love is too delicate a subject to be touched
upon lightly, so saying good-bye to conjectures I
return to fa< i ;.
The dawn of February the 27th saw the
Prince en route for Southampton where he em-
harked for Natal — embarked in a campaign to
fight and deprive of their liberty a people who
had once belonged to his rai It is probably not
MY MEMOIRS
well known that the Cape of Good Hope belonged
to Holland and was taken from King Louis by the
English at the time when the Prince's grand-
father was King of the Netherlands.
The Prince took, I believe three horses with
him. One died during the voyage or was in some
way disabled : another died soon after his arrival
in Natal. He bought two horses almost
immediately on landing, one, a grey, bore the
name of Fate — a quiet animal without vice, but
restless and difficult to mount if other horses were
moving on. Strangely, this was the horse the
Prince was riding on the day of his death — the
day when Lieutenant Carey, saying he knew
the country well, was sent to select a new en-
campment, and the Prince asked and obtained
permission to accompany him.
So much has been written, so much was said
at the time that every one knows all that I could
tell of the sad event that followed. Comte
d'Hdrisson, in his book on the Prince, reminds us
that history repeats itself in the Napoleon dynasty.
The two Emperors, Napoleon I and Napoleon III,
found their death on English soil. Of the two sons
of the Imperial race, the Duke of Reichstadt and
the Prince Imperial, one it is said died poisoned
in Austria, the other by treachery in South Africa ;
both far from France in stranger-land ; leaving a
problem for future generations to solve. It was
published in the English papers of the day that
320
THE PRIN( E IMPERIAL
in ;i I . pital, a Communard, when dyin
confessed that he had b en iven "50 mille
francs" by the French Government to go to
Zululand and bribe those round the Prince to
tray and entrap him, and that it was thus that
the unfortunate Prince W I to his death : that
something of the kind had been proposed before
he left En land, but that their victim was t<
closely guarded.
The; Prince Imperial left England with his
faithful French valet, Uhlmann, and two English
grooms recommended to him by some military
man in London. On a certain morning he ac-
companied a small reconnoitring party into the
bush where they made a halt. While they were
dismounted they were surprised by a body ot
Zulus and surrounded. The Prince was marvel-
lously skilful in vaulting into the saddle without
touching the stirrup, even when his horse was
movin This he no doubt attempted on the
fatal day, but owing to a twist or strain from
which lie had been suffering he probably failed,
but succeeded in putting his left foot in the
stirrup. Ah he threw his leg over, the stirrup
leather gave way, broke in two, and he iell back-
wards. ... I ^a\v the saddle and examined it.
It bore the traces of what I have tried to de-
scribe. I'll-- leather was cut or deeply scratched
all across the saddle by the Prince's spur as he
fell back. Now, when too late, it was recognized
x 3 - >
MY MEMOIRS
and bitterly deplored, that had the Prince's equip-
ment been of different make he might have es-
caped, although alone, abandoned, and unaided,
the terrible death that awaited him.1
I was not surprised that the Prince had wished
to stop and sketch. It was a pastime of which he
was particularly fond and he did water colours
rather prettily : a talent he no doubt inherited
from the Emperor, whose principal amusement it
was during his captivity at Ham. In 1839, when
returning to the United States from Florence after
the death of the Queen, his mother, my father
obtained permission of the French Government
to visit his cousin, Prince Louis Napoleon ; he
brought back a charming souvenir, a small land-
scape painted by the Prince. It was mounted
in tortoiseshell — a card case and memorandum
book combined. It took my six-year-old fancy
and I have never forgotten it, though I cannot
remember seeing it after we left America.
It was to Lord Sidney that the Queen confided
the saddest of all missions — to acquaint the
1 This statement is confirmed by the late Dr. Archibald
Forbes, who was in Zululand as a war correspondent and
knew the Prince Imperial well, and who wrote —
"No doubt he made a desperate effort, trusting to the
strength of his grasp on the band of leather crossing the
pommel from holster to holster. That band tore under his
strain. I inspected it next day and found it no leather at all,
but paper faced. So that the Prince's fate really was attribut-
able to shoddy saddlery." — Century Magazine, June 1893.
322
THE PRINCE [MPERIAL
Emj ress I • enie of the death of her only child,
the Prince Imperial of France. On arriving at
Chislehurst, Lord Sidney was received by the
Duke de Bas ino, who, on hearing the news,
asked to be allowed to convey to the Empress
the presence of Lord Sidney and prepare her
for the dreadful message he bore. It was there-
re in reality the Duke de Bassano who told
the poor mother of her loss.
The Empress was not totally unaware that
some accident had happened to the Prince. A
letter had come early in the morning from a club
fri nd to Pietri, who was away on a holiday. The
Empress opened the letter — she scarcely knew
why no doubt a presentiment, an anxious feel-
ing promoted her. The letter was marked
' Immediate," and had been sent by train and
taken up to Camden Place l>y a railway porter.
So it was that, seeing the Duke approach her,
she cried, " You have bad news of the Prince — I
know — I will start at once — I am getting ready —
giving orders — we leave immediately for Cape
lown." In her precipitation she was going to
ring the bell to send h.r her women.
Poor Empress ! she had not -rasped, she could
not grasp, the truth. The Duke, beside himself
with grief, summoned all his courage to his aid and
faltered out the irrevocable words, " Trop tard
Madame, trop tard." Tin; Empress gave one
despairing cry .md fell in a dead faint at his feet.
x 2 323
MY MEMOIRS
As far as I remember, this was on Friday.
On Saturday, by the earliest train I could, I left
for London, and took rooms at the Albemarle
Hotel. My sister the Duchess de Mouchy, my
brother Prince Murat — the two real and most
devoted friends of the Empress Eugenie, who
had been at her side in all her troubles both
before and after our downfall — had already
arrived from France. They came over by the
night boat and went on to Camden Place.
Before the next day all the hotels round me,
Brown's, the Pulteney, Claridge's, were full of
what in old days I should have called nos intimes.
The Duchess Malakoff and her daughter had
rooms at the Albemarle just above me. The
Duchess was a Spanish woman, a very old friend
of the Empress. They had been girls together.
It was to her friendship that Mile. Pariega
owed her marriage with Marshal Pelissier,
Duke of Malakoff. Rather a rough diamond,
but with a splendid career behind him.
Stephanie Tascher de la Pagerie says, " Le
titre de Duchesse de Malakoff eut ete beau s'il
n'eut fallu devenir la femme du Marshal Pelissier
pour y avoir droit."
When I arrived at Camden Place I was in
doubt if I should be able to see the Empress.
My sister and Zizi d'Arcos were the only two
persons who had been allowed access. The
poor woman had neither slept nor rested and
324
THE PRINCE [MPERIAL
scarcely eaten a mouthful since the terrible n<\
had reached her. Unfortunate mother. Her
remorse must have been as great as her grief.
I pitied her from the bottom of my heart.
Could a greater misfortune have befallen her!
1 em conceive no deeper sorrow than the loss
of an only son, and such a son as the Prince
Imperial. To her it meant (hath to every
cherished hope.
Zizi d'Arcos was another one of those most
intimate at Court although she had no official
position. Mrs. Vaughan brought her two pretty
daughters to Paris, and through the patronage
of the Duke de Morny and Mme. Le Hon had
invitations to Court. Zizi, the eldest, became a
great favourite with the Kmpress, who conceived
the project of a marriage with one of her oldest
friends and admirers — a Spaniard, Domingo
d'Arcos. Many years after the marriage, about
the time of which 1 am writing, 1 )omingo, who had
been in a very critical state for some time, went
out of his mind. The war and his removal to
England seemed t<> give him the finishing stroke
and be the torment of his ravings, lb: died in
a London hotel, I think Brown's, I cannot be
quite sur Every one spoke of the devotion ol
his wife. Her sister, who married a Vaughan, a
cousin, could not find words to express Zizi's
admirable conduct in nursing her husband
through so painful an illness; people were much
MY MEMOIRS
impressed. She was welcomed more warmly
than ever at Chislehurst. Zizi and her sister
usually accompanied the Empress to Windsor,
and played the part of ladies-in-waiting whenever
their services were required. On these occa-
sions the "four widows," as those on duty with
the Queen called them, put their heads together.
They had a great deal to say, and the Court
looked on in trembling for the gale that usually
followed. At Camden Place on her frequent
visits Mme. d'Arcos was like a watch-dog,
although I am not sure that she always slept
on the mat outside her mistress's door.
None of the Empress's dames du palais —
twelve in number — followed her to England.
Most of them belonged more or less to the
Faubourg St. Germain. Foremost among these
were Mme. de la Bedoyere, whose arrival in a
room was often likened by the Tuileries set to
the lighting of a chandelier, and her willowy
sister Mme. de la Poeze, daughters of the
Marquis de la Roche Lambert, more noble than
rich. The emoluments were worth accepting, and
they lowered their pride to be ladies-in-waiting
at the Tuileries. One other I will name — the
Marquise de Cadore. She was charming — so
lovely to look at. We were always delighted
when it was her tour de sei^vice. So many of the
household of the Empress, both men and women,
without reason made themselves perfectly odious
326
* &
Till I
i
THE PRINCE IMPERIAL
to the members of tin- Emperor's family. One
day in particular, I remember, some of them
more ventun iome than the rest (who were wi
enough to confine their incivilities to the younger
members such as myseli ) dared to be discourte< >us
to Princess Marie de Bade, Duchess ol Hamilton.
She wrote asking the Emperor to come and si
her. She afterwards told us that she had com
plained i >f the disrespectful attitude of the entoura
in general —and she added that it the Emperor
chose to allow his family to be put under the
Empress's slipper she-, tor one, had no intention
of submitting to such treatment. " My dear
Marie, what would you have me do?" exclaimed
the Emperor. " 1 give her my family to govern,
as I cannot give her the State." The State
followed, however, for shortly afterwards the
Empress was present at all the Cabinet councils.
What a fearful revelation! How in those
hours oi solitude and anguish she must have
deplored the fatal mistakes, the ill-judged severity,
the desire to keep all authority in her own hands,
both political and at home! Her very affection
and anxiety for her son and the restoration of the
Empire led her to exercise over him a control
against which his independent spirit was con-
stantly in rebellion. No doubt she now, too late,
realized her error — error into which her very love
had betraj ed her.
1 was going huh to town; 1 felt 1 could not
3-7
MY MEMOIRS
trespass on the heart-rending misery of that
hour. Just then the Empress sent my sister to
fetch me to her. The door opened and shut, we
were left alone. The room was in profound dark-
ness. It was a trying moment ! I could see
only to grope my way to a figure seated in the
middle of the room in a high arm-chair with a
bureau table alongside, a footstool under her feet,
and a large rug thrown over her. This was what
I saw when my eyes became accustomed to the
clair obscure. I went forward and, kneeling, kissed
her hand. My heart was full of sorrow and pity
— such utter hopelessness, such anguish, was in
every feature of her face, in every movement of
her hands, in the few words she spoke. I remained
a few minutes only ; understanding what an
effort even those few words must cause her. I
could be of no use to her. In such a case nothing
could be of any avail, vain words a mockery,
sympathy almost an offence. All this and more
I felt as I left her with her despair.
The next day I returned to Redisham. We
had a long-standing engagement for the first week
of the July meeting at Newmarket. Mr. Garden
was anxious not to disappoint our friends, as a suite
of rooms had been reserved for us at the Rutland
Arms. I went with him, but was careful not to
show myself at the races or anywhere in public.
So the week was rather a dull one, and I was
not sorry when it came to an end. On the 8th
328
THE PRINCE IMPERIAL
I travelled back to the Albemarle Hotel. The
funeral ceremony was to I place on the 12th.
My youngest brother, Prince Louis, had arriv
from Russia and was staying at the Pulteney.
His wife— in ite health — had been unable to
accompany him. We went to Chislehurst the
next morniner, with no intention <>t seeing the
Empi ut to hear what had been settled about
th( tnonial and it' we were to 1"- at Camden
PI m the previous day for the reception oi
the o>rn •<• tYom Woolwich. We learned that
our presence would not be required on Friday
the 1 ith.
My sister told me that the Empress thought
of nothing, spoke of nothing, but the Prince and
his sufferings during the African campaign. She
never inquired as to any of the arrangements for
the return and reception of the body, nor even
asked the day on which it would reach England's
shores. The only wish she: expressed was that
my brother Prince Murat should, with a suite
designated, meet the 0 r antes ax Portsmouth.
Those designated to accompany 11.11. the
Prince Murat were I I.I I. the Prince Charles
Bonaparte, the Comte Davilliers, the Martinis tie
Bassano, the Baron de Bourgoing, the Comte de
Turenne, the Vicomte Aguado. I 0 the astonish-
ment of ever) one, General Fleury, so intimately
associated with the Prince's life, more especially
during his exile, was not designated to be tidier
MY MEMOIRS
at Portsmouth or at Woolwich on the occasion of
the ceremonial of identifying the body. I have
already said that the General was not a favourite
with the Empress. On many occasions he had
ventured to oppose her will both on private and
political questions. General Fleury had been one
of the first to come over from France to put him-
self entirely at the Empress's commands, and, I
heard, felt most deeply being set aside and allowed
no part in the ceremonial. I suppose some observa-
tion was made on the subject, as when the Queen
entered the Chapelle Ardente on the day of the
funeral, General Fleury was ordered to take his
place with other generals near the coffin. All the
night of the nth the coffin was guarded by officers
of the household or relatives, each hour the guard
being relieved. The Duke de Mouchy remained
many hours with the dear remains of our lost Prince,
and the Empress spent nearly all night kneeling
in prayer.
The dawn of Saturday found her still clinging
to the coffin, saying between her sobs : " Voila tout
ce qui me reste de mon fils ! "
The opening of the coffin had taken place at
Woolwich. The features of the poor little Prince
were so disfigured as not to be recognizable — one
eye was gone and he was covered with wounds —
seventeen, I believe — all received facing the foe.
Was it the Prince ? Who could be sure ? Two
things only proved his identity. Dr. Thomas
33°
THE PRINCE IMPERIAL
! ms u is present at the opening ol the coffin.
I [e swore to the teeth he had filled, to the mouth
that he hil attended for so many years. The
the Prim e ha 1 on his left side was there, and
md proof required. When quite i
boy he fell from a trapeze in the gymnasium and
hurt his side A large abscess formed, and an
operation became n- iry. The scar left was
the one I refer i
My brother was so overcome during the exam-
ination <>f the body that he nearly fainted, and had
to summon .ill his courage to go through with the
painful duty imposed upon him : not to leave the
cottin for 01 :ond till it was again closed.
The dawn of the i 2th of July of the year [879
was full of golden light and sunshine, seeming
such a mockery to the feeling of deep sorrow that
invaded my heart as 1 was roused from my sleep
at an early hour. We were under orders to be at
Camden Place before the arrival of the Queen, who
due at 10.15. A friend of Mr. Garden's, a
Mrs. Crawley, was anxious to get into the grounds
to see the funeral procession. I always wonder
sight can attract any one. She had not
been able to get a ticket of admission, and I had
none to give her. I did the only thing 1 could
dn, which was to pass her in in my carriage. At
the last moment, just as we were ready to start,
it was observed that Mrs. Crawley (who went l>y
the distinguished name of Teddydine) had not
331
MY MEMOIRS
understood that she was required to be all in black.
I hastily supplied some few articles of mourning,
but Mr. Garden's gloves had to be requisitioned,
as mine were of no use ! How comic her hands
looked ! I could not help laughing, though I was
in no humour for mirth.
The drive from London to Chislehurst seemed
paved with heads, especially as we drew near the
latter place. At the stable entrance of Camden
Place we drew up to put our passenger out before
driving to the house. I knew I was late, and I
was getting rather nervous, as no carriage could
pass after the hour at which the Queen was
expected. The Prince Napoleon, his two sons, his
sister the Princess Mathilde, and the Princess
Eugenie Murat, my brother's eldest daughter,
waited in a small drawing-room overlooking the
front of the house reserved for the reception of
the Queen, and in which the saddle and every-
thing which had belonged to the little Prince in
Zululand had been placed. The room was
literally smothered in flowers — wreaths, crosses,
bouquets — and the floor covered with roses. As
the clock marked twenty minutes past ten, the
Queen's approach was signalled, and at 10.25
the Prince Murat, the Duke and Duchess de
Mouchy, the generals and officers of the Imperial
household, moved forward to receive her
Majesty. The Queen carried an immense wreath,
which she wished herself to place on the coffin.
332
THE PRINi E [MPERIAL
She wa >wed by Princess Beatrice bearing
a la with garlands
of violets around it — so heavy that General
Fleury, I think it was, took it from her and
handed it to the Duke de Mouchy, who advance
with her to where the Queen was standing near
the catafalque, which was raised by three steps
with black and white draperies. An English fl
was thrown over the coffin.
Tl. . s emotion was evident when she
said, " Poor child, you well deserve my crown of
laurel
The 1 I ichess de Mouchy then conduct
the Queen to the room of which I have spoken.
Prince Napoleon himself presented his sons to her
Majesty. A few moments later, eleven o'clock,
the Queen and Princess Beatrice left the house,
crossing by a pathway of Mack carpet to the stand
cted tor the Royal Family. At the same
moment the Princess Mathilde and Princess
Eugdnie pro< 1 to the little Church of St.
Mary, where the funeral ceremony was to take
pla< I remained in the room, looking at,
touching the treasures which were all that
remained of our beloved Prince. Meantime
the procession was forming slowly beneath the
window. . . . Of this 1 need not speak, as every
paper of the day, if referred to, would tell tar
better and more accurately what took place than
aid in)- memory. I knew nothing, saw nothing,
MY MEMOIRS
as I stood transfixed, gazing vacantly at the
thing before me — one thought, one feeling filled
my mind and heart : Had all these hundreds of
French people come over the water to see the
sight of a Napoleon, a son of France, their Prince
Imperial thus carried to his last resting-place ! A
great tribute was paid, a high honour intended,
and had I been the Empress I should have been,
as she no doubt was, deeply touched and grate-
ful : but if she had had one drop of our blood in
her veins no English flag would have covered his
coffin, no English princes would have carried him
to his grave. Years after, when this country
cried out with one voice that they would have an
English princess for their future Queen, one born
and bred with them — English heart and soul — how
well I understood the wish. . . . Marie Louise
and the Roi de Rome — Empress Eugenie and
the Prince Imperial — what a lesson for genera-
tions to come !
I plead forgiveness, oh my English readers,
if ever my Memoirs fall into your hands.
Remember then that the writer, who loved her
country, loved her race beyond expression, had
for nearly thirty-two years been wounded every
day by some heathen, who purposely or ignorantly
had wantonly crushed her heart, crushed her
spirit, hurt her pride, abused her country, stamped
upon her race. . . .
Presently I woke with a shudder — the pro-
334
THE PRINCE IMPERIAL
cession was moving Pietri w Hiding
little way from the window pointing with his
arm-, thrown out in a great gesture of lir to
the line now slowly winding thi rounds.
At th it moment the door opened and Mr. Gard<
walked in. S it had been my pre occupation
that 1 had never noticed that he had not taken
his place in the funeral pri ion. He asked it
he mi 'lit order the carriage — he wished to lea\
immediately. It was neither the time nor place
to ask any questions : I only said, " 1 cannot leave
re the Queen."
As soon as the procession had left the grounds
the Qu en and the Princess Beatrice walk
across the lawn to the house. The Queen sent
lor the Puchess de Mouchy, who accompanied
her to the door of the boudoir up-stairs where
the Empress had expressed the wish to see her.
The room was dark, as when I had seen it. 1 he
opening of the dour just gave sufficient light for
the Queen to see the Empress standing to receive.
She threw her .inns round her and they mingled
their tears and sobs in a Ion- embrace. The
Prince--, Beatrice, finding herself alone, left the
drawing room and went with me to the Lluipcllc
Mortuaire. All was as it had been a\\ hour
before. The candles were still burning; the rose
leaves — all roses from France— still covered the
floor: flowers were thrown here and there, lilies
mingling their sweet scent with the perfume ol
MY MEMOIRS
incense. The Princess knelt and gathered a few
flowers — a handful of the roses on which the
coffin had rested — all that remained of her short
poem of love.
In the autumn, about the second week of
September, I was advised by Dr. Playfair that I
needed rest and quiet and he suggested either
Braemar or Pitlochry. We were very fond of
salmon fishing, so we decided for Deeside. The
early summer must have been a very rainy one,
as on my return home to prepare for my Scotland
trip I found the haymakers still in the fields and
spent two or three happy days with the children
romping in the hay. I left for Braemar on the
1 8th of September, with two or three friends —
Mr. Garden, being detained for a few days on
business in town, promised to join us almost
immediately. We travelled by the night express
to Aberdeen and stayed one day and night there
before going on to Ballater. My first experience
of a Scotch train — stopping so often and going at
a pace that my American trotters of old days
would have been ashamed of. On arriving at
Ballater, we found a carriage and post-horses
waiting for us, and late in the evening we reached
the Fife Arms, where rooms had been engaged.
We made excursions every day to some spot
of the pretty country round us. Old Mar Lodge
and the Quoich were among our favourite resorts.
336
THE PRINCE IMPERIAL
We had taken luncheon with us one lovely warm
morning and intended to do some sketching near
the Q »ich, when w<- were disturbed by the sight
ol the Royal carria in the distan< Being
ac< ustomed to the strict etiquette of the Tuilerii
1 hastily gathered together all my belongings, live
and dead stock, and mad-- a retreat. Th en
often drove through Braemar during my stay.
The Empress Eugdnie was daily expected at
Abergeldie, lent to her by the Queen. One
Sunday morning I saw from my window the
Empress and her suite drive past to the little
1 itholic chapel a hundred yards from the hotel.
Considering it my duty, 1 went to the chapel and
waited outside till Mass was said in order that 1
might present my respects to her Majesty. She
was most gracious and talked tome tor some time,
and we walked hack to her carriage together. I
then took my leave of her and stood waiting till
she had driven off. How often in my life I have
done an unwelcome, irksome thing to find that 1
was unjustly accused and wrongly blamed! So it
was in this c.ise.
I remained some weeks longer at Braemar, and
then went further north. On returning to town
1 announced my intention ol going to Chislehurst
to say good-bye to the Empress, who was then
about to undertake her voyage to Zululand to
• the spot when- the poor little Prince lost his
life. She replied "that, being on the eve ol her
v
MY MEMOIRS
departure, she was too busy to see me." Knowing
the Empress, I was not the least surprised, and
should have thought it quite ordinary had I not by
the morning's post received a letter from my sister,
who was staying at Camden Place, telling me that
her Majesty was greatly annoyed at several things
I had, or was supposed to have, done during my
stay at Braemar. I puzzled my brain in vain to
discover in what I had incurred her displeasure.
From that day to this I have held myself aloof —
only performing such obligations as my position
imposed on me. Some year or two later, when
talking of different things to my uncle Prince
Lucien, he suddenly asked me why I had been so
foolish at Braemar? I asked in what. He was
astonished to hear that I was absolutely ignorant
of the crimes imputed to me. To be true, I had
never even taken the trouble to inquire. The
Emperor and the Prince both gone, I more or
less, alas! English — what could it matter? I
was wrong. Everything matters, if not for oneself,
for others dear to you. Prince Lucien told me
my offences — trivial enough — but here they are.
In my haste to leave the Quoich that day when
sketching, I had dropped my handkerchief. It
had been picked up by one of the Royal party, and
the story which reached the Empress was that my
handkerchief bore the Royal arms of Naples
embroidered in the corners. If it had been true,
would it have caused disagreement between
338
Till-: PRINC E IMPERIAL
England and Italy ( rtainly I French
mblic would not have interfered. My h indker-
chief had a sing] >wn i The
other misdemeanour was that I had 1
with race gla bracketed on the i \ while
her s were being changed at the hotel. The
:en, it was asserted, had caused inquiries to
In- made as to who ipied the ro< >ms. She was
informed they were mine.
The moment it was mentioned to me I re-
membered hearing of the incident at the time, for
it made quite a sensation in the hotel. Tw
maids, who had probably ne\ en the I
had stood, not in any room, but in the doorway
of the hotel and annoyed her Majesty by staring
at her through eye-gl The Queen called
on<- of her attendants and gave some ordei .
saying, I believe, that if she were to be subjected
to such impertinence she- should in future chai
hor "-u here.
I need scarcely say that I attempted no
defem We all who lived at Court knew too
well that a pretext is easily found when wan;
Had not the candidature of Prince Le pold von
Hohenzollern to the throne of Spain been made
the transparent pretext for the Franco-German
war of 1870? 1 treated the imputation cast upon
me with the silent contempt I felt.
My uncle urged me to write, hut 1 refused,
and, taking a page from a hook of greater suffer-
Y 2
MY MEMOIRS
ings than mine, I withdrew, like the snail, into
my shell, carrying my disgrace with me. My
mother, who was always very lenient towards the
failings and errors of those around her, indulgent
to her children, and more especially partial to
her sons, ventured once to expostulate with the
Empress on the harshness of her judgments and
the severity of her decisions. Carried away by
her feelings, the Empress answered, " Ah ! ma
cousine, vous etes Louis Seize — n'oubliez pas que
je suis Louis Ouatorze ! " In these few words we
may read the history of the Second Empire and
its reverses.
340
INDEX
•43.
itesse d',
■ 26
Joseph d',
Aurevill
Austria,! ncis
Joseph, 1
Aiis'-
beth, Em]
Azeglio, M .
iochi, Princess, 138, 158,
Baker, Sir Samuel, 303
240
1, 1 >uke de, 234, 52}, 3:9
hyani, Mine., 296
Bar.. jo, 244
line, Marshal, 235-237
rice, l'i ,33, 335
Beaumont, Countess de, 79, 14';
Icett, I lamilton, 41
Belliari 1 ral, 17
lie: - leneral, 37-
1
-■Hi, Mi 141
'44
Emperor Napoleon.
Napole
harles. Set
( Charles Bonap u te, Prince
I- : ■ te, Pi
See
laparte, I
iparte, Prin< e Pi< 1 re.
.
Roland
ilonel, 2
.
Bow
r- General, 239-
240
Eton, Mme. le, 271
Burgoyne, Sir John, 206-207
Cadore, Marquise de, 3:
. 20
1 1
Count de, 1 58-162
pbell, I hibald, 302
Mme., 122 123
ey, Lieutenant, 320
. of Naples, 16,
2 1
233-234
"""9
. 137
iglione, Virginia de, 150-
56
(leneral dc, 54, 57
mr, M. de, 130, 151
, Maria,
Charles Bonaparte, Prin
siron, Baron de, ■ 91, 238
Chevarier, M. de, 202
( larendon, Lord, 1
., Adolphe, 230,
[de, Pi
tades, Marquise
.
34i
INDEX
Courbonne, Mile, de, 60
Cowley, Lord, 128
Craven, Lady Mary, 120
Daudet, Alphonse, 75
Demidoff, Prince, 72
Desprez, Mme., 68
Dumas, Alexandre, 75
Duperre, Commandant, 142,208,
230-231, 273
Duvernois, M., 267
Elizabeth, Empress of Austria,
278
Enghien, Due d', 19, 22
Eugenie, Empress, 108, 110-116,
118-119, 121-123, 131-140,
154, 156-159, m-172, 182-
183, 185-186, 193, 196, 204-
207, 220, 235-236, 245-247,
261-265, 270-286, 292-293,
296-301, 304-307, 309, 311-
314, 322-335, 337-338, 34o
Evans, Dr. Thomas, 206, 330
Ferdinand, Emperor of Austria,
22-23
Feuillet, Octave, 75
Fleury, General, 3i3-3r4, 329~
33o, 333
Fould, Achille, 306, 308
Francis Joseph, Emperor of
Austria, 119, 271
Franco-Prussian War, 183 et
seq.
Fraser, Carolina Georgina, 25
Frome, Charles T., 282
Galliffet, Marquis de, 142-144
,, Marquise de, 144-145
Garden, Mr., 204, 213, 238, 248-
251, 254-255, 259-261, 265,
268, 279-282, 286-288, 292-
293, 295, 298, 300, 304, 328,
335-336
Giraud, M., 67, 75
Gladstone, Mr., 214, 246
Goncourt, Jules de, 78
Gramont, Duke de, 184-185
342
Granville, Lord, 241-242
Gull, Sir William, 265
Haussmann, Baron, 134
Heine, Mme., 141-142
Home, Daniel, 273-275
Hopkinson, Charley, 29
Howard, Miss, 102-103, 151,
211-212
Hugo, Victor, 75
Imperial, Prince. See Louis
Napoleon, Prince Imperial
Irving, Washington, 27
JeYome Bonaparte, Prince, 174,
I91, 197-198, 218-219, 242-
244
Joachim Murat, King of Naples,
15-23, 26
Joseph, King of Spain, 25
Kemble, Fanny, 44
Latour-Maubourg, Marquise de,
157
Lennox, Lady George, 294
Leopold von Hohenzollern,
Prince, 216-217
Lermina, Mile., 231
Letissier, Eliza, 162
Liszt, Abbe, 78, 147
Louis Napoleon, Prince Impe-
rial, 121, 193, 195, 270-273,
283-286, 293-297, 299-300,
3H-334
Lucien Bonaparte, Prince, 56,
80, 94-95, 246, 276-277, 300-
301, 311,317, 322, 339
Macdonald, General, 19
MacMahon, Marshal, 195-196
Maillard, Adolphe, 36
Malakoff, Duchess, 324
Manchester, Duchess of, 151
Manning, Cardinal, 281
Mary Adelaide of Hohenlohe,
Princess, 109
Massa, Marquis de, 138
INDEX
ilde, Prin
. 151, ■
■
Moray, Duke de, 1 1
Mur.it,
Mur.it.
Mur
vie
Mur.it, I'i
birth and 1 hildhood, 24 ;
life ;it Point !
umily to
rival in Paris,
51 ; nship ot Prin-
Mathilde,
with Baron de
Chassiron,
tions of the
>n Ill's ni
1 1
I art entertainii!- \ tt
; visit to Switzerland, 1
the Fran< 0- Prussian War,
ft ht from I' 1
tt 1 1 ile in England,
ith ni" her husband,
a Redisham,
• to Italy, 251 -■
mania •• « ith Mr. 1 i 11 len,
■
illness at '■
Ill's
th of
Mi ned
■
Ml:
Mural
Mi.
■ it.
•
Nap
Li him Murat, k
Naples
Napoleon 111, 2
185, 1
■ ■
27.'.
Napoleon, Pi
■
omtede,
Nilsson, Christine,
011i\
Padua, I
. 1 1 ird, 1 jS
\t. hbishop of, 1 j 1
Paterson, M 1
Patti, Adelina,
1, Sir Robert, 1
Pei
Duke de,
Piedmont, King of, 127 1 2
INDEX
Pierre Bonaparte, Prince, 56,
93-95. 275-277, 279
Pierre, Princess. See Ruffin,
Justine
Pietri, Franceschini, 198, 231,
270-271, 335
Playfair, Dr., 336
Point Breeze, 29-30, 33, 36-37,
42
Poniatowska, Princess, 221, 296
Ponsonby, Miss Melita, 294
Pourtalds, Mme. de, 79, 144-
145
Powell, Captain, 239
Rediny, Baronne de, 67
Renan, Ernest, 75
Ridgeway, Mrs., 84
Roland Bonaparte, Prince, 279
Rothschild, Mme. Alphonse de,
153
Rouher, M., 312, 315
„ Mme., 265-266
Ruffin, Justine (afterwards Prin-
cess Pierre), 275-276
Sainte-Beuve, M., 75
Sardou, Mme., 77
Scheffer, Arry, 75
Sesto, Duke de, 182
Sheriff, Gina, 288
Sibour, Archbishop, 157
Sibthorpe, Mrs. Waldo, 310
Sidney, Lord, 322, 323
Solms, Mme. de, 79-83
Standish, Henry, 294-295
Stevens, Edwin, 40-41
Stewart, Commodore, 39
Stradbroke, Lady, 289-290
Strauss, Johann, 78, 126-127
Survillier, Count de, 30, 33
Tascher de la Pagerie, Comtesse
Stephanie, 154-155, 232
Thompson, Sir Henry, 261-262
Trafford, Tommy, 239
Trochu, General, 197-198, 205,
214
Turenne, Comte de, 329
Vanderbilt, Billy, 39
Victor Emmanuel, King of Italy,
68
Victor Napoleon, Prince, 188
Victoria, Queen, 80, 118, 312,
337, 339
Viel-Castel, Count Horace de,
76-77
Waleski, Comte, 109
Wasa, Princess de, 109
Washington, George, 26
Waterloo, 19
Waveney, Lord, 289
William III of Holland, 85
Willis, Catherine Bird, 26
Zembo, M., 161, 163
Richard Clay 6^ Sons, Limited, London and Bungay.
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