Chapter 11

[1]See Appendix.

Great explanations about the bear-steak—Jacotot—An ill-sounding epithet—A seditious felt hat—The carabiniers who were too clever—I quarrel with King Charles-Albert over the Dent du Chat—Princes and men of intellect

I returned to Florence in 1842 for a very sad and distressing ceremony; I returned to attend the funeral of the Duc d'Orléans.

It is one of the singular features of my life to have known all the princes; and, with the most Republican ideas imaginable, to have been attached to them with the deepest affection of my heart. Now, who informed me at Florence of the death of the Duc d'Orléans? Prince Jérôme-Napoléon. I had just dined at Quarto—a charming country-house four miles from Florence—with the father of the ex-King of Westphalia, when, taking me aside, he said—"My dear Dumas, I am going to tell you news which will cause you much pain."

I looked at him with anxiety.

"Monseigneur," I said to him, "I have received news of my two children this morning; they are well; except for accidents which may have happened to them, I am prepared for anything."

"Well, the Duc d'Orléans is dead!"

I confess this came upon me like a thunderbolt. Uttering an exclamation and bursting into tears I threw myself into the prince's arms.

"Oh! monseigneur," I said to him, "I have cared for but two princes, for him and for you. For him more than for you, I frankly admit; now I have but you to care for."

Was it not a strange thing to see a man weepingfor a duke of Orléans in the arms of a Bonaparte? I left for Livorno that same night, and next day I went on board the steamer at Genoa. The sea was rough, and landed me quite done up in the City of Palaces; I found attable d'hôtea friend who had arrived from Naples more tired even than myself: he offered to return with me by post-chaise, but on condition we crossed by the Simplon, which he had never seen. I accepted. We hired a sort of cariole and started. When we had crossed the Simplon and got clear of the Valais, we pulled up at the door of thePosteinn at Martigny. The host, hat in hand, politely came and invited us to take a meal in his house in passing. We thanked him and said we had dined at Sion, so he retired as politely as he had come. "What a delightful inn-keeper!" my friend said to me.

"You think so?"

"Why, yes."

"If I told him my name I think I should probably be obliged to give him a drubbing while we waited for our relay of horses."

"Why?"

"Because, instead of making capital out of a joke I played on him, he had the silliness to be vexed at it and to wish I was dead."

"You?"

"Oh yes, me!"

"Bah!"

"Just recall it to him and tell him that we will stay a little time if perchance he can give us a beef-steak of bear flesh."

"Hi! Monsieur!...Monsieur le maître de l'hôtel!" exclaimed my friend, before I had had time to stop him. Themaître de l'hôtelturned round.

"My companion here says he will stop for dinner with you if you have by chance a steak of bear flesh."

I have seen many faces express agitation in my life; in consequence of terrible news, unexpected accidents,serious wounds ... but I never saw any face more concerned than that of the unfortunatemaître de posteat Martigny.

"Ah!" he exclaimed, seizing his hair with both hands, "again! always the same cry!... Is no traveller to pass by without making the same joke?"

"Yes!" resumed my companion, "I read about it in M. Alexandre Dumas'sImpressions de Voyage..."

"TheImpressions de Voyageby M. Alexandre Dumas!" shrieked the wretched inn-keeper; "are there still people who read it?"

"Why should they not read it?" I ventured to ask.

"Because it is an atrocious book, full of lies; people have been burned at the stake who did not deserve it as much as that man.... Oh! M. Alexandre Dumas!" went on the unlucky vendor of soup, passing from rage to exasperation, "if only I ever get hold of him in private one of these days! but I shall have to go to Paris to get even with him. He will not go through Switzerland again, he dare not! he knows I am waiting to strangle him: I have told him so. All right; if you see him, if you know him, tell him once more from me, tell him every time you meet him, tell it him over and over again."

He went into his house like a madman, like one furious and driven to despair.

"What is the matter with your master?" I asked the postilion....

"Ah! people say he has been infected with a sort of craze, which a gentleman from Paris caused him when he passed by here."

"And so he wishes to kill the gentleman from Paris?" "Yes, he wishes to kill him."

"Outright."

"Without mercy."

"Suppose the gentleman from Paris suddenly said to him, 'Here I am!' What would he do."

"Oh! he would fall down dead in a fit, without a doubt."

"All right, postilion. When you return, you tell your master that M. Alexandre Dumas has passed by, that he wishes him long life and all kinds of prosperity. Now start!"

"Ah! that's a good joke!" said the postilion, setting off at a galop. "Ah! Yes, I'll tell him, indeed! he shall know it, and how he will tear his hair at not having recognised you.... Come! Grise, come, gee up!"

My companion was very thoughtful.

"Well," I asked him, "a penny for your thoughts?"

"I am trying to discover the reason for that man's hatred against you."

"You do not understand it?"

"No."

"You remember the bear beef-steak in myImpressions de Voyage?"

"Of course! it is the first thing that I read in it."

"Well, it was at that good fellow's house that the incident of M. Alexandre Dumas eating a bear-steak in 1832 happened."

"Well?"

"Many others like you read of the bear-steak; so, one fine day, a traveller, more curious, or with less appetite, than others said, when he looked at the menu—

"'Have you any bear?'

"'Excuse me?' the host replied.

"'I asked if you had any bear.'

"'No, monsieur, none.'

"And, for the moment, the incident was closed. Then one, two days or a week later, a second traveller puts his alpenstock in the comer behind the door, flings his hat on a chair, shakes the dust from his shoes and says to themaître de l'hôtel—

"'Ah! I am at Martigny, surely?'

"'Yes, monsieur.'

"'At theHôtel de la Poste?'

"'This is theHôtel de la Poste.'

"'It is here one can get bear to eat then.'

"'I do not understand.'

"'I say that this is where one can taste bear.'

"Themaître de l'hôtellooked at the traveller in amazement.

"'Why here more than anywhere else?' he asked.

"'Because it was here that M. Dumas had it.'

"'M. Dumas?'

'Yes, M. Alexandre Dumas.... Do you not know M. Alexandre Dumas?'

"'No.'

'The author ofHenri III.,ofAntonyand ofLa Tour de Nesle?'

"'I have not the pleasure of his acquaintance.'

'Ah! he says, in hisImpressions de Voyage,that he ate bear at your inn ... but, as you have none in the house at the moment, we will not trouble about it: we will have it some other time. Come, what have you got?'

'Monsieur can choose for himself, here is the menu!'

'Oh! I cannot be bothered! Give me what you like: since you have no bear, I don't care what it is.'

"And, with a disgusted air, finding it all very poor, the second traveller ate the dinner they served him.

"Next day, or the day after, or the following week, a traveller came in who, without saying anything, put his knapsack down, seated himself at the first table he came to and knocked against a glass with a knife, shouting—"'Garçon!'

"The waiter came.

"'What can I do for you, monsieur?'

"'A bear-steak.'

"'Ah! ah!'

"'Be quick and let it be underdone!'

"The waiter never budged.

"'Well, don't you understand me, donkey?'

"'Only too well.'

"'All right then, order my steak.'

"'But monsieur seems to want a special sort of steak.'

"'A steak of bear's flesh.'

"'Yes ... We haven't it.'

"'What, you haven't any?'

"'No.'

"'Go and fetch your master.'

"'But, monsieur, my master ...'

"'Go and fetch your master!'

"'But, monsieur.'

"'I tell you to go and fetch your master!'

"The traveller rose with such imperiousness that the waiter saw there was only one thing for him to do—to obey. He disappeared saying—

"'I am going to fetch him. I am going.'

"'You asked to see me, monsieur,' said themaître de l'hôtelin five minutes' time.

"'Ah! that is all right!'

"'Had I only known monsieur specially wished to speak to me ...'

"'I wished to see you because your waiter is such a fool!'

"'That is possible, monsieur.'

"'An impertinent fellow.'

"'Has he had the impudence to neglect monsieur?'

"'He is an idiot, and he will ruin your establishment.'

"'Oh! oh! this is becoming serious.... If monsieur will tell me what he has to complain of.'

"'Well! I ask him for a bear-steak and he pretends not to understand.'

"'Ah! ah! it is ...'

"'Have you bear or have you not?'

"'Monsieur, allow me ...'

"'Have you bear?'

"'Really, monsieur ...'

"'Bear or death. Have you bear?'

"'Really, monsieur, no.'

"'You should have admitted it at once then,' said the traveller, reloading his knapsack.'

"'What is the matter, monsieur?'

"'I am going.'

"'Why are you going?'

"'Because I am going.'

"'But why?'

"'Because I only came to your cookshop to taste bear. As I find you haven't any, I am going to look for it elsewhere.'

"'Still, monsieur ...'

"'Come,furth!and out the traveller went, saying, 'It seems you show special favour to M. Alexandre Dumas; but it also seems to me that a traveller in Burgundy wines is worth much more attention than a man of letters.'

"The inn-keeper stands dumbfounded.

"Now, you know, my dear fellow, that blessedImpressions de Voyagehas been widely read, printed and reprinted: not a day passed but some eccentric traveller would ask for a bear-steak. French and English appear to have gone to theHôtel de la Posteto drive the unlucky inn-keeper to distraction. Never was Pipelet, when he refuses to give his hair to Cabrion, to Cabrion's friends and acquaintances, more unhappy, tormented or desperate than the unhappy, tormented and desperatemaître de posteof Martigny. A French inn-keeper would have taken the bull by the horns and changed his signboard; instead of the wordsHôtel de la Poste,he would have put,Hôtel du Bifteck d'Ours.He would have bought up all the bears in the surrounding mountains; and, when they fell short, he would have provided beef, wild boar, horse, anything, so long as it was flavoured with some unknown sauce or other. He would have made his fortune in three years' time and retired at the end of it, buying his stocks to the extent of 100,000 francs, and he would have blessed my name. The present man made his fortune all the same, but more slowly, and through such incessant fits of anger that he ruined his health—and cursed my name.

"What harm has that done you?"

"It is always disagreeable to be cursed, my friend."

"But, after all, what truth is there in your bear-steak story?"

"Some and none?"

"What do you mean by some and none?"

"Three days before I went by, a man had been on the hunt for a bear and had wounded it mortally; but, before it died, it had killed the man and devoured part of his head. In my capacity of dramatic poet, I put the thing into a scene, that is all. The same thing happened to me as did to Werner at the inn of Schwartzbach, to his drama ofVingt Quatre Février."

"What happened to Werner?"

"Ah! upon my word, my dear friend, you ought to buy myImpressions de Voyageand open the first volume and you will know."

Whereupon, we continued on our way.

That, dear readers, is the pure truth, revealed for the first time, concerning the bear-steak which made such a stir in the world twenty years ago. Ah, well! I have never been fortunate with my strokes of fame.

One of my creations, which had almost as European a celebrity as the bear-steak, was Jacotot; not the inventor of the famous method of orthography; but a Jacotot of my own; the Jacotot of myImpressions de Voyage.

"Ah! yes, yes, the waiter in the café at Aix." Precisely, dear readers; you see, indeed, how celebrated Jacotot is since you remember his name."

"Who doesn't remember the name of Jacotot!"

"I can, then, say openly, that I made Jacotot's fortune, for he is rich and has retired; Jacotot has a town-house in Aix and a country-house on the lake of Bourget. Yet, like the master of the posting-inn at Martigny, Jacotot holds me in execration, he loathes me and curses me! The reason for such ingratitude? I wounded hisamourpropre; again because of putting him in my book; the number of enemies my dramatic talent has made me is incalculable! Any man who is not, like myself, overcome with a passion for the picturesque, any writer who does not feel compelled to paint when he writes, who had occasion to bring Jacotot upon the scenes for the first time, would have said simply, 'Jacotot comes on.' He would not have thought it necessary to state whether Jacotot was beautiful or ugly, well dressed or ill, young or old. But to me 'Jacotot enters' seemed insufficient, and I had the misfortune to say, 'Jacotot entered;he was nothing but a coffee-house waiter.'This was the first wounding epithet for Jacotot who, it is true, was a coffee-house waiter, but who, no doubt, desired to be taken for a solicitor's clerk. I went on: 'He stopped in front of us, a stereotyped smileon his fat, stupid face,which must have been seen to have been appreciated.'"

That was what really embroiled me with Jacotot, the physical portrait I drew of him; all the good I was able to say of him, which has immortalised him, has not effaced from his memory the unhappy epithet I applied to his face.

In the year of grace 1854, nearly a quarter of a century after the publication of the unluckyImpressions de Voyagewhich fell foul of many susceptibilities, there was a traveller on the road to Aix who had a desire to know Jacotot: he went to the café and did as I had done. He called Jacotot: themaître du cafécame to him.

"Monsieur," he said, "the person for whom you are inquiring has made his fortune and retired."

"Ah!diable!" said the traveller. "I wanted to see him."

"Oh! you can see him."

"Where?"

"At his home."

"Oh! but to disturb him, solely and simply to saythat I have a desire to see him is perhaps really a little too inquisitive."

"Eh! stay though, you can see him without disturbing him."

"How?"

"That is he, over there, against his door, with his hands in his pockets and his body in the sun."

"Thanks."

The traveller got up, went across to the other side of the square and passed two or three times in front of Jacotot. Jacotot perceived that it was he whom the traveller wanted; and, as he was a capital fellow, when hisamour-propreis not over-excited, he smiled at the traveller. The traveller was emboldened by the smile.

"You are M. Jacotot, I believe?" he asked him.

"Yes, monsieur, at your service."

"So you have retired?"

"Two years since, as you see!... I am a citizen, a good citizen now," and he struck his stomach with the palms of his two hands.

"I offer you my congratulations, Monsieur Jacotot."

"You are indeed good."

"I know some one who has not been injured by your bit of good fortune."

"Who, monsieur?"

"Alexandre Dumas, the author of theImpressions de Voyage."

Jacotot's face became discomposed.

"Alexandre Dumas," he repeated.

"Yes."

"Is it because he said I had a stupid face?" exclaimed Jacotot, slamming the door violently as he went into his house.

The traveller had paid his farewell call on Jacotot, for, from that moment, if Jacotot caught sight of him on one side, he turned away in another direction.

In the same country I have a third enemy, very much more serious than the two others, and for a thing of almost as little importance, and he is His Majesty Charles-Albert, King of Sardinia. During my sojourn at Aix I made two excursions: one to Chambéry and the other to the Dent du Chat. Both were made noteworthy: one by an act of great imprudence, the other by a serious accident; imprudence and accident would probably have passed over unnoticed had I not pointed them out in those fatalImpressions de Voyage.The imprudence was to go into the capital of Savoy wearing grey hats, as my companions and I did. You will ask, dear readers, what imprudence there was in wearing grey hats instead of black felt ones. There would have been none in 1833, but it was very unwise in 1832; and here is an extract of a few lines from myImpressions de Voyage—

"At four p.m. of the same day we reached Chambéry. I will say nothing about the public monuments of the capital of Savoy; I was not able to enter into any of them because I wore a grey hat. It seems that a dispatch from the Tuileries had called forth the strictest measures against the seditious felt, and that the King of Sardinia did not wish to be exposed to a war against his beloved brother Louis-Philippe d'Orléans over such a futile matter. As I insisted, and declaimed energetically against the injustice of such a proceeding, the Royal Carabiniers, who were on guard at the palace gate, said facetiously to me that, if I absolutely persisted, there was at Chambéry a building inside which they were allowed to take me, namely, the prison. As the King of France, in his turn, would probably not wish to be exposed to a war against his dear brother Charles-Albert, over so unimportant a personage as his ex-librarian, I replied to my interlocutors that they were doubtless very charming for Savoyards and very witty for carabiniers, but I would insist no longer."

Savoy is a singular country: Jacotot was angry because I said an injurious thing about him; the carabiniers wereangry because I paid them a compliment. So much for the imprudence. Let us now pass to the accident.

After supper, a dozen bathers, joyous companions, four of whom, alas! are now dead, proposed, in order not to leave one another, to go and see the sun rise from the top of the Dent du Chat. It is a sharp-pointed mountain peak which owes its name to its shape, and its bare, verdureless cone looks down upon Aix. The suggestion was acceded to; they put on their boots and dressed for the journey, then they set out. I did the same as the others, although I have not much taste for making ascents; I suffer from giddiness; and, to be high up, even if there is no danger, is more painful to me than actual danger which may present itself under quite another form. As in the case of Chambéry, let me be permitted to quote a few passages from myImpressions de Voyage; it will absolve the reader from turning back to it—

"We began to climb at half-past twelve midnight; it was a strange sight, that march by torchlight. At two, three-quarters of our way were done, but the remaining part was so dangerous and difficult that our guides made us halt to wait for the first rays of dawn. When this appeared we continued our way, which soon became so steep that our breasts nearly touched the slope on which we were walking in single file. Each one displayed his skill and strength, clinging, with his hands, to the heath and little shrubs and, with his feet, to the roughness of the rock and to the inequalities in the ground. We heard the stones which we loosened roll down the slope of the mountain, which was as steep as a roof; and then we followed them with our eyes till we saw them fall into the lake, with its blue sheet, which lay stretched out a quarter of a league below us. Our guides themselves could not help us, as they were busy trying to discover the best way; but, from time to time, they advised us not to look behind us for fear of turning faint or giddy: and their admonitions, made in short, concise tones, told us the danger was very real."Suddenly, one of our comrades who followedimmediately after them uttered a cry which made our flesh creep. As a means of support he had tried to place his foot on a stone already shaken by the weight of those who had preceded him. The stone broke away and the branches to which he had also clung, not being strong enough to bear the weight of his body alone, broke between his hands."'Catch hold of him!' shouted the guides."But this was easier said than done. Each one of us had already great difficulty in holding himself up. So he passed by us without a single one of us being able to stop him; we thought he was lost and, with the perspiration of terror on our brows, we watched him breathlessly until he was close to Montaigu, the last of us all, and he stretched out a hand and seized him by the hair. For one moment it was doubtful if both would not fall; it was a short but awful moment, and I will answer for it that none of those who were there will forget the length of the second, while we watched the two men swaying over a precipice of two thousand feet depth, not knowing whether they were going to be precipitated over, or succeed in catching hold of the ground again."We reached at last a little fir wood which, without making the path less steep, made it more comfortable because of the facility the trees offered us of catching hold of their branches or leaning against their trunks. The opposite border of the little forest almost touched the base of bare rock, whose shape has given its name to the mountain; holes irregularly hollowed out in the stone afforded us a sort of staircase which led to the summit."Only two of us attempted this last climb; not that the journey was more difficult than that we have just accomplished, but it did not promise us a more extended view, and the one we had in front of us was far from compensating us for our fatigue and bruises. We therefore left them to climb up their steeple and we sat down to extract stones and thorns from ourselves. Meanwhile, the climbers reached the top of the mountain, and, as proof of having captured it, they lit a fire and smoked their cigars round it."They came down in a quarter of an hour, taking good care to put out the fire they had lit, curious though theywere to know if the smoke had been noticed down below. We ate a small meal, then our guides asked us if we wanted to return by the same route, or to take another and a longer one, but much easier. We unanimously chose the latter. By three o'clock we were in Aix, and, in the centre of the square, the gentlemen had the proud pleasure of still seeing the smoke of their beacon fire. I asked them if, now that I had had so much enjoyment, I might be allowed to go to bed. As every one probably felt the need of doing the same, they told me there was no objection. I believe I should have slept for thirty-six hours on end if I had not been awakened by a great noise. I opened my eyes, it was dark; I went to the window, and I saw all the town of Aix in a commotion. The population, including children and old people, had come out on the public square, as in former times they did during riotings in Rome. Every one was talking at once, and snatching at glasses, and looking up into the air fit to break their spines; I thought there must be an eclipse of the moon. I dressed quickly to go and see my share of the phenomenon, and went down armed with my spy-glasses. The whole atmosphere was coloured with a red reflection, the sky seemed inflamed; the Dent du Chat was on fire! The fire lasted for three days. On the fourth, they brought our smokers in a bill of 37,500 francs odd. The smokers thought the sum a little too strong for a dozen arpents of wood, the situation of which made it impossible to get at. Consequently, they wrote to our ambassador at Turin to try to get something cut down in the bill. He must have managed it very well, because the bill returned to them in a week's time to be paid was reduced to 780 francs."Thanks to my grey hat, which had aroused the susceptibilities of the Chambéry Carabiniers, and to the part I had taken in the excursion and the firing of the Dent du Chat the states of King Charles-Albert were shut against me for six years."

"Suddenly, one of our comrades who followedimmediately after them uttered a cry which made our flesh creep. As a means of support he had tried to place his foot on a stone already shaken by the weight of those who had preceded him. The stone broke away and the branches to which he had also clung, not being strong enough to bear the weight of his body alone, broke between his hands.

"'Catch hold of him!' shouted the guides.

"But this was easier said than done. Each one of us had already great difficulty in holding himself up. So he passed by us without a single one of us being able to stop him; we thought he was lost and, with the perspiration of terror on our brows, we watched him breathlessly until he was close to Montaigu, the last of us all, and he stretched out a hand and seized him by the hair. For one moment it was doubtful if both would not fall; it was a short but awful moment, and I will answer for it that none of those who were there will forget the length of the second, while we watched the two men swaying over a precipice of two thousand feet depth, not knowing whether they were going to be precipitated over, or succeed in catching hold of the ground again.

"We reached at last a little fir wood which, without making the path less steep, made it more comfortable because of the facility the trees offered us of catching hold of their branches or leaning against their trunks. The opposite border of the little forest almost touched the base of bare rock, whose shape has given its name to the mountain; holes irregularly hollowed out in the stone afforded us a sort of staircase which led to the summit.

"Only two of us attempted this last climb; not that the journey was more difficult than that we have just accomplished, but it did not promise us a more extended view, and the one we had in front of us was far from compensating us for our fatigue and bruises. We therefore left them to climb up their steeple and we sat down to extract stones and thorns from ourselves. Meanwhile, the climbers reached the top of the mountain, and, as proof of having captured it, they lit a fire and smoked their cigars round it.

"They came down in a quarter of an hour, taking good care to put out the fire they had lit, curious though theywere to know if the smoke had been noticed down below. We ate a small meal, then our guides asked us if we wanted to return by the same route, or to take another and a longer one, but much easier. We unanimously chose the latter. By three o'clock we were in Aix, and, in the centre of the square, the gentlemen had the proud pleasure of still seeing the smoke of their beacon fire. I asked them if, now that I had had so much enjoyment, I might be allowed to go to bed. As every one probably felt the need of doing the same, they told me there was no objection. I believe I should have slept for thirty-six hours on end if I had not been awakened by a great noise. I opened my eyes, it was dark; I went to the window, and I saw all the town of Aix in a commotion. The population, including children and old people, had come out on the public square, as in former times they did during riotings in Rome. Every one was talking at once, and snatching at glasses, and looking up into the air fit to break their spines; I thought there must be an eclipse of the moon. I dressed quickly to go and see my share of the phenomenon, and went down armed with my spy-glasses. The whole atmosphere was coloured with a red reflection, the sky seemed inflamed; the Dent du Chat was on fire! The fire lasted for three days. On the fourth, they brought our smokers in a bill of 37,500 francs odd. The smokers thought the sum a little too strong for a dozen arpents of wood, the situation of which made it impossible to get at. Consequently, they wrote to our ambassador at Turin to try to get something cut down in the bill. He must have managed it very well, because the bill returned to them in a week's time to be paid was reduced to 780 francs.

"Thanks to my grey hat, which had aroused the susceptibilities of the Chambéry Carabiniers, and to the part I had taken in the excursion and the firing of the Dent du Chat the states of King Charles-Albert were shut against me for six years."

I told in due place how, in 1835, I was shamefully driven out of Genoa and how triumphantly I returned there in 1838. May I be permitted a slight digression here on princes and ship captains?

I have noticed that, in general, neither of them likemen of intellect. Indeed, if a man of cultivated mind find himself at a prince's table, at the end of ten minutes, without complete dumbness on his part, it is the man of mind who will be the true prince, to whom people will address their conversation, it is he who will be made to speak, it is he to whom they will listen. The prince by birth is completely annihilated—he no longer exists as such, and is only distinguishable from other guests in two ways: whilst other guests are talking he is silent; whilst they laugh he sulks. You will say, in such a case, if the cultured man is really clever he will keep silence in order to let the prince assert his princehood. But then the clever man will be no longer such—he will be a courtier. Numbers of clever men have been disgraced because of their abilities. Cite me one instance of a fool disgraced for his folly. It is the same with ship captains as with princes.

Whenever a clever man is on board and the weather is fine, the captain is nowhere. People crowd round the man of intellect, whilst the captain paces alone on the poop. It is true, that, if there is a storm the captain becomes captain once more, but only so long as the storm lasts. You tell me there are princes who have intellect. Of course! I have known, and still know, some; but their estate compels them to hide it. It was impossible to have a more charming, delicate or graceful mind than that of M. le duc d'Orléans; and yet no one could hide it better than he could. One day, when he had made one of those delightful repartees with which his conversation abounded when he had to do with artists, I asked him—

"Mon Dieu,monseigneur, how is it that you, who are one of the wittiest men I know, have so little reputation for being a wit?"

He began to laugh.

"How delicious you are!" he said; "do you suppose I allow myself to show wit to everybody?"

"But, monseigneur, you show it to me, and at your very best too."

"Parbleu!because I know you are equally witty, you are always as witty as, if not more than, I; but with imbeciles, my dear Monsieur Dumas!... I have enough to do to make them forgive me for being a prince, without giving them more to forgive by being a man of wit.... So it is agreed that, when you wish, not so much to give me pleasure as to do me a service, you must say that I am an imbecile!"

Poor dear prince!

22 July 1832

The day after the magnificent fire, one of our bathers, who had returned from Chambéry, entered the room where we met together, saying—

"Messieurs, have you heard the news?"

"No."

"The Duc de Reichstadt is dead."

The Duc de Reichstadt had, indeed, died on 22 July, at eight minutes past five in the morning, the anniversary day on which letters-patent from the emperor had appointed him Duc de Reichstadt, and on which he had learnt of the death of his father the Emperor Napoleon. His last words had been—

"Ich gehe unter! Mutter! Mutter!" (I am sinking—Mother! Mother!)

Thus it was that, in a foreign language, the child of 1811 bid adieu to the world!

The inquiries we made concerning the young prince, that pale historic figure which faded from day to day whilst the phantom figure of his father grew bigger and bigger, enable us to give a few details about his brief life and sad death that are perhaps not known.

Victor Hugo, the man to whom one must always turn when it is a question of measuring the giant Napoleon, wrote the poetic history of the young prince in a few strophes. Let us be permitted to quote them. To say we love the exiled poet, comforts our heart; to say that we admire him, assuages our regrets. The tomb is deaf,but, perhaps, exile is even still more dear. Our voice is one that our friends will hear in the grave and in exile. Yesterday, the Duc d'Orléans; to-day, Hugo.

"Mil huit cent onze!—ô temps où des peuples sans nombreAttendaient, prosternés sous un nuage sombre.Que le ciel eût dit oui!Sentaient trembler sous eux les États centenaires.Et regardaient le Louvre, entouré de tonnerresComme un mont Sinaï!Courbés comme un cheval qui sent venir son maître.Ils se disaient entre eux: 'Quelqu'un de grand va naître;L'immense empire attend un héritier demain.Qu'est-ce que le Seigneur va donner à cet hommeQui, plus grand que César, plus grand même que Rome,Absorbe dans son sort le sort du genre humain?'Comme ils parlaient, la nue éclatante et profondeS'entr'ouvrit, et l'on vit se dresser sur le mondeL'homme prédestiné!Et les peuples béants ne purent que se taire;Car ses deux bras levés présentaient à la terreUn enfant nouveau-né!"

The child was the King of Rome,—the one who had just died. When his father had shown him on the Tuileries balcony, as Louis XIV. had shown Louis XIV. from the balcony of Saint-Germain, he was the heir to the most powerful crown in existence; at that period, the emperor drew after him in his orbit one half of the Christian population; his orders extended and were obeyed over a space which included nineteen degrees of latitude; and eighty millions of men cried "Vive Napoleon!"in eight different tongues.

But let us return to the poet—

"O revers, ô leçons! Quand l'enfant de cet hommeBut reçu pour hochet la couronne de Rome;Lorsqu'on l'eut revêtu d'un nom qui retentit;Lorsqu'on eut bien montré son front royal qui trembleAu peuple, émerveillé qu'on puisse tout ensembleÊtre si grand et si petit!Quand son père eut, pour lui, gagné bien des batailles;Lorsqu'il eut épaissi de vivantes muraillesAutour du nouveau-né, riant sur son chevet;Quand ce grand ouvrier, qui savait comme on fonde.But, à coups de cognée, à peu près fait le mondeSelon le songe qu'il rêvait;Quand tout fut préparé par les mains paternelles,Pour doter l'humble enfant de splendeurs éternelles.Lorsqu'on eut de sa vie assuré les relais;Quand, pour loger un jour ce maître héréditaire,On eut enraciné, bien avant dans la terre.Le pied de marbre des palais;Lorsqu'on eut, pour sa soif, posé devant la FranceUn vase tout rempli du vin de l'espérance ...Avant qu'il eût goûté de ce poison doré,Avant que de sa lèvre il eût touché la coupe,Un Cosaque survint, qui prit l'enfant en croupe,Et l'emporta tout effaré!"

The story of the poor child can only be made up out of contradictory evidence. Let us borrow from M. de Montbel a letter which tells of the impatience with which the announcement of his birth was waited for in the imperial city of Vienna—

'VIENNA, 26March"It would be difficult to do justice to the impatience with which they here expected the news of the delivery of Her Majesty the Empress of the French. On Sunday the 24th, at ten in the morning, uncertainty was at an end: the telegraphic dispatch which announced the happy news was transmitted to the Ambassador of France four days and one hour after that event, by Major Robelleau, first aide-de-camp to General Desbureaux, Commandant of the Fifth Military Division. The report of it soon spread abroad and caused general joy."M. de Tettenborn, aide-de-camp to Prince de Schwartzenberg, left Paris by day, and, arriving fourteen hours after Chevalier Robelleau, confirmed the happy news. Finally, a courier from the French Cabinet arrived on the morning of the 25th, bearing the official letter by which the Emperor Napoleon announced the birth to his august father-in-law. His Majesty's satisfaction wasextremely great, and was shared by the whole Court. The Ambassador of France being at home indisposed, the first Secretary to the Embassy went to the palace, was taken to the emperor's cabinet and had the honour of handing to His Majesty his Master the Emperor's letter. On that same Sunday, the day chamberlain was sent by the emperor to the Ambassador of France to congratulate him.The ambassador received the congratulations equally of M. le comte de Metternich,and of the whole diplomatic corps."To-morrow, there will be a grand drawing-room at the Court on the occasion of the birth of the King of Rome. Every one says it will be a very brilliant gathering."

'VIENNA, 26March

"It would be difficult to do justice to the impatience with which they here expected the news of the delivery of Her Majesty the Empress of the French. On Sunday the 24th, at ten in the morning, uncertainty was at an end: the telegraphic dispatch which announced the happy news was transmitted to the Ambassador of France four days and one hour after that event, by Major Robelleau, first aide-de-camp to General Desbureaux, Commandant of the Fifth Military Division. The report of it soon spread abroad and caused general joy.

"M. de Tettenborn, aide-de-camp to Prince de Schwartzenberg, left Paris by day, and, arriving fourteen hours after Chevalier Robelleau, confirmed the happy news. Finally, a courier from the French Cabinet arrived on the morning of the 25th, bearing the official letter by which the Emperor Napoleon announced the birth to his august father-in-law. His Majesty's satisfaction wasextremely great, and was shared by the whole Court. The Ambassador of France being at home indisposed, the first Secretary to the Embassy went to the palace, was taken to the emperor's cabinet and had the honour of handing to His Majesty his Master the Emperor's letter. On that same Sunday, the day chamberlain was sent by the emperor to the Ambassador of France to congratulate him.The ambassador received the congratulations equally of M. le comte de Metternich,and of the whole diplomatic corps.

"To-morrow, there will be a grand drawing-room at the Court on the occasion of the birth of the King of Rome. Every one says it will be a very brilliant gathering."

Perhaps it will be interesting to compare the congratulation of M. le comte de Metternich to the Ambassador to France—dated 25 March 1811—with the information given on 31 October 1815 by the same Comte de Metternich, to M. le baron de Sturmer, Commissary to His Imperial and Apostolic Majesty at the Isle of Saint-Helena—

"The allied powers having agreed to take the most particular measures to render any enterprise on the part of Napoleon Bonaparte impossible, it has been concluded and decided between them that he shall be taken to the Isle of Saint-Helena, that he shall there be entrusted to the care of the British Government; that the Courts of Austria, of Russia and of Prussia shall send their agents to reside there, to make sure of his presence but without being charged with the responsibility of guarding him; and that His Most Christian Majesty shall also be invited to send a French agent to the place of Napoleon Bonaparte's detention."In consequence of this decision, sanctioned by special agreement between the Courts of Austria and Russia, and Great Britain and Prussia, dated from Paris, 2 August 1815, His Majesty the Emperor, our august master, has condescended to appoint you to reside at Saint-Helena in the capacity of his representative."The guarding of Napoleon Bonaparte being specially entrusted to the British Government, you are not charged with any responsibility on that head; but you can make sure of his presence by what means and in what manneryou like in concert with the governor. You must be careful to be convinced of his existence by the evidence of your own eyes, and you must draw up an official report, which must be signed by you and your colleagues and countersigned by the governor; each of the agents will be expected to submit a copy of this report every month to his Court, furnished with their signatures and a countersign from the governor."You will take the greatest care to avoid any sort of communication with Napoleon Bonaparte and the individuals of his suite. You will positively refuse any overtures they might seek to set up with you; and, in case they allow direct approaches, you will immediately report such to the governor."Although you will not be at all responsible for the guarding of Bonaparte, nor of the persons comprising his suite, if it comes to your knowledge that they are employing means to evade or to keep up communications outside, you will warn the governor without delay."Your functions will be confined to those indicated in the present instructions. You will abstain with most scrupulous punctiliousness from all solitary action, our positive intention being that you act in concert with your colleagues and always in accord with them and with the governor. You will make use of every opportunity that may present itself to convey your reports direct to us.""METTERNICH""PARIS, 31October1815"

"In consequence of this decision, sanctioned by special agreement between the Courts of Austria and Russia, and Great Britain and Prussia, dated from Paris, 2 August 1815, His Majesty the Emperor, our august master, has condescended to appoint you to reside at Saint-Helena in the capacity of his representative.

"The guarding of Napoleon Bonaparte being specially entrusted to the British Government, you are not charged with any responsibility on that head; but you can make sure of his presence by what means and in what manneryou like in concert with the governor. You must be careful to be convinced of his existence by the evidence of your own eyes, and you must draw up an official report, which must be signed by you and your colleagues and countersigned by the governor; each of the agents will be expected to submit a copy of this report every month to his Court, furnished with their signatures and a countersign from the governor.

"You will take the greatest care to avoid any sort of communication with Napoleon Bonaparte and the individuals of his suite. You will positively refuse any overtures they might seek to set up with you; and, in case they allow direct approaches, you will immediately report such to the governor.

"Although you will not be at all responsible for the guarding of Bonaparte, nor of the persons comprising his suite, if it comes to your knowledge that they are employing means to evade or to keep up communications outside, you will warn the governor without delay.

"Your functions will be confined to those indicated in the present instructions. You will abstain with most scrupulous punctiliousness from all solitary action, our positive intention being that you act in concert with your colleagues and always in accord with them and with the governor. You will make use of every opportunity that may present itself to convey your reports direct to us.""METTERNICH"

"PARIS, 31October1815"

So much for the political view: now let us look at the poetic—

"Oui, l'aigle, un soir, planait aux voûtes éternelles,Lorqu'un grand coup de vent lui cassa les deux ailes;Sa chute fit dans l'air un foudroyant sillon;Tous alors sur son nid fondirent avec joie;Chacun selon ses dents se partagea la proie:L'Angleterre prit l'aigle, et l'Autriche l'aiglon.Vous savez ce qu'on fit du géant historique.Pendant six ans, on vit, loin derrière l'Afrique,Sous les verrous des rois prudents,—Oh! n'exilons personne! oh! l'exil est impie!—Cette grande figure en sa cage accroupie,Ployée et les genoux aux dents.Encor, si ce banni n'eût rien aimé sur terre!Mais les cœurs de lion sont les vrais cœurs de père;Il aimait son fils, ce vainqueur!Deux choses lui restaient dans sa cage inféconde:Le portrait d'un enfant et la carte du monde,Tout son génie et tout son cœur!Le soir, quand son regard se perdait dans l'alcôve,Ce qui se remuait dans cette tête chauve,Ce que son œil cherchait dans le passé profond,Tandis que ses geôliers, sentinelles placéesPour guetter nuit et jour le vol de ses pensées,En regardaient passer les ombres sur son front,Ce n'était pas toujours, sire, cette épopéeQue vous aviez naguère écrite avec l'épée,Arcole, Austerlitz, Montmirail;Ni l'apparition des vieilles pyramides,Ni le pacha du Caire et ses chevaux numidesQui mordaient le vôtre au poitrail;Ce n'était pas ce bruit de bombe et de mitrailleQue vingt ans sous ses pieds avait fait la batailleDéchaînée en noirs tourbillons,Quand son souffle poussait sur cette mer troubléeLes drapeaux frissonnants penchés dans la mêlée,Comme les mâts des bataillons;Ce n'était pas Madrid, le Kremlin et le Phare,La diane au matin fredonnant sa fanfare,Les bivacs sommeillant dans les feux étoilés,Les dragons chevelus, les grenadiers épiques,Et les rouges lanciers fourmillant dans les piques.Comme des fleurs de pourpre en l'épaisseur des blés;Non, ce qui l'occupait, c'est l'ombre blonde et roseD'un bel enfant qui dort la bouche demi-close,Gracieux comme l'Orient;Tandis qu'avec amour sa nourrice enchantée,D'une goutte de lait au bout du sein restée,Agace sa lèvre en riant!Le père, alors, posait les coudes sur sa chaise;Son cœur plein de sanglots se dégonflait à l'aise;Il pleurait d'amour éperdu ...Sois béni, pauvre enfant, tête aujourd'hui glacée,Seul être qui pouvait distraire sa penséeDu trône du monde perdu!***Tous deux sont morts! Seigneur, votre droite est terrible!Vous avez commencé par le maître invincible,Par l'homme triomphant;Puis vous avez enfin complété l'ossuaire.Dix ans vous out suffi pour filer le suaireDu père et de l'enfant!Gloire, jeunesse, orgueil, biens que la tombe emporte!L'homme voudrait laisser quelque chose à la porte;Mais la mort lui dit: 'Non!'Chaque élément retourne où tout doit redescendre!L'air reprend la fumée et la terre la cendre;L'oubli reprend le nom."

I decidedly prefer poetry to politics. Do you not agree with me, dear reader? Now, how did the poor exiled child live and die; the poor eaglet that fell out of its nest? That is what we are going to tell in the following chapters.

Edict unbaptizing the King of Rome—Anecdotes of the childhood of the Duc de Reichstadt—Letter of Sir Hudson Lowe announcing the death of Napoleon

It was at Schönbrünn, in the same palace in which the emperor lived during 1805, after Austerlitz, and, in 1809, after Wagram, that Marie-Louis and her son were received by the Imperial family of Austria. As the first care of England had been to despoil Napoleon of his title of Emperor, so the first care of Francis II. was to take away the name of Napoleon from his grandson.

On 22 July 1818 the Emperor of Austria published the following edict:—

"We, Francis II., by the grace of God, Emperor of Austria; King of Jerusalem, Hungary, Bohemia, of Lombardy and of Venice, of Dalmatia, Croatia, Esclavonia, Gallicia, Lodomeria and Illyria; Archduke of Austria, Duke of Lorraine, of Saltzburg, Styria, Carinthia, Carniola, the high and low Silesia; Grand-Prince of Transylvania; Margrave of Moravia; Count-Prince of Hapsburg and of the Tyrol, etc. etc.; would have it known that—As we find that, in consequence of the act of the Vienna Congress and the negotiations which have since taken place in Paris with our principal allies, in putting into execution in the matter of determining the title, rank and personal relations of Prince François Joseph-Charles, son of our beloved daughter Marie-Louise, Archduchess of Austria, Duchess of Parma, of Plaisance and of Guastalla, we have accordingly decreed as follows:—"1. We give to Prince François-Joseph-Charles, son of our beloved daughter the Archduchess Marie-Louise, thetitle of Duc de Reichstadt, and we at the same time command that in future all our authorities and every private person shall give him, when addressing him either by word of mouth or in writing, at the beginning of the speech, or heading of a letter, the title of Most Serene Duke, and in the text that of Most Serene Highness."2. We permit him to have and to make use of special armorial bearings: to wit, gules with fesse of gold, two lions passant with their backs turned to the right, one in chief the other in point; one oval placed on a ducal mantle and stamped with a ducal crown; for support two griffins, sable armed, picked out and crowned with gold, holding banners on which the ducal arms shall be repeated."3. Prince François Joseph-Charles, Duc de Reichstadt, will take rank in the Court and throughout the whole extent of our Empire, immediately after the princes of our family and the Archdukes of Austria."Two identical copies of the present declaration and ordinance, signed by us,'have been dispatched to inform every one whose business it is to conform to them. One copy has been deposited in our private family archives of Court and State. Issued in our capital and residence of Vienna, the 22nd of July of the year 1818, the twenty-seventh of our reign.FRANÇOIS"

"1. We give to Prince François-Joseph-Charles, son of our beloved daughter the Archduchess Marie-Louise, thetitle of Duc de Reichstadt, and we at the same time command that in future all our authorities and every private person shall give him, when addressing him either by word of mouth or in writing, at the beginning of the speech, or heading of a letter, the title of Most Serene Duke, and in the text that of Most Serene Highness.

"2. We permit him to have and to make use of special armorial bearings: to wit, gules with fesse of gold, two lions passant with their backs turned to the right, one in chief the other in point; one oval placed on a ducal mantle and stamped with a ducal crown; for support two griffins, sable armed, picked out and crowned with gold, holding banners on which the ducal arms shall be repeated.

"3. Prince François Joseph-Charles, Duc de Reichstadt, will take rank in the Court and throughout the whole extent of our Empire, immediately after the princes of our family and the Archdukes of Austria.

"Two identical copies of the present declaration and ordinance, signed by us,'have been dispatched to inform every one whose business it is to conform to them. One copy has been deposited in our private family archives of Court and State. Issued in our capital and residence of Vienna, the 22nd of July of the year 1818, the twenty-seventh of our reign.FRANÇOIS"

It was, as one can see, impossible better to conceal this poor intruder, of which the family was ashamed. There was no more mention of his being a Frenchman, or his name of Napoleon, than if France had not existed or than if it had never had an Empire. He will no longer have any family name: he will have the name of a duchy; he will not have that ofMajestyorSire; he is to be Most Serene Highness. Of the French Eagle, the eagle which in 1804 flew from the Pyramids to Vienna, which in 1814 flew from steeple to steeple as far as the towers of Notre-Dame, there is no more question than of the name of the nationality; the Duke of Reichstadt will havetwo lions d'or passant upon gules,like a count of the Holy Empire—not even the Buonaparte star; not eventhe bees of the isle of Elba. He will take rank at Court after the princes of the Imperial family. Thus, he is not even a prince of the Imperial family in his own right through his mother!—Silence as to his father! He has no father and never had; moreover, the father he might have had calls himself simply, or is so called by Sir Hudson Lowe,General Bonaparte.True, there is a future for the poor disinherited one in the love of his grandfather, who worships him; if he behaves himself well, he will be a colonel in an Austrian or a Hungarian regiment! There was also the future of Marcellus and the one that Providence is keeping for him out of its profound pity! And yet the poor child remembered; and that was his martyrdom. One day—he was scarcely six years old—he came up to the emperor, leant against his knees, and said—

"Dear grandfather, is it not true that when I was in Paris I had pages?"

"Yes," replied the emperor, "I believe you had."

"Is it not true, too, that they called me the King of Rome?"

"Yes. You were called King of Rome."

"Well, then, grandpapa, what does being King of Rome mean?"

"It is useless to explain it to you, as you are no longer it."

"But why am I not?"

"My child," replied the emperor, "when you are grown up, it will be easy to instruct you on that point. For the moment, I will just tell you that, in addition to my title of Emperor of Austria, I join that of King of Jerusalem, without having any sort of power over the city. Very well, you are King of Rome as I am King of Jerusalem."

Another time the young prince was playing with lead soldiers, amongst which were a good number of irregular Cossacks. A painter, M. Hummel, who was painting his portrait, came to him.

"Have you ever seen Cossacks, monseigneur?" he asked.

"Yes, certainly, I have seen them," replied the child: "they were Cossacks who escorted us when we left France."

The painter asked M. Dietrichstein, his tutor, when the prince's portrait was finished, "With what order ought I to decorate His Highness, Monsieur le Comte?"

"With the Order of Saint-Stephen, which His Majesty the Emperor of Austria sent him in his infancy."

"But, Monsieur le Comte," said the child, "I have many others besides that!"

"Yes, monseigneur; but you do not wear them any longer."

"Why?"

"Because they have been abolished."

Poor child! it was not the orders that had been abolished; but his fortune which had fallen.

At that age, the Duc de Reichstadt was perfectly beautiful, with great blue eyes and rose-leaf complexion, and long, fair, curly hair falling on to his shoulders. All his movements were full of grace and prettiness; he spoke French with the accent peculiar to Parisians. He had to learn German, and it was a great business and a daily and hourly struggle and difficulty.

"If I speak German," he said, "I shall not be French any more."

However, the Duc de Reichstadt was obliged to resign himself to learn M. de Metternich's tongue, and it was the one he constantly spoke when he had learned it with the princes of the Imperial family.

One day, a courier from M. de Rothschild arrived in Vienna; he brought great news, news which, in former times, would have been announced by comets and earthquakes: Napoleon had died on May 1821! The news reached Vienna on 22 July—the day on which, three years previously, the Duc de Reichstadt had lost hisname; the day on which, eleven years later, he was to lose his life.

The Comte de Dietrichstein was absent, and the emperor charged M. Foresti with the telling of the fatal news to the young duke, who had just reached his tenth birthday. M. Foresti adored the prince; he had been with him since 1815. He broke the news with all kinds of circumlocution, but, at the first words he uttered, the prince said—

"My father is dead, is he not?"

"Monseigneur ..."

"He is dead?"

"Indeed, yes!"

"How could one want him to live ... over there!" exclaimed the child, bursting into tears.

Contrary to the custom of Imperial etiquette, he wore mourning for a year; he insisted on it when they tried to make him give it up. They appealed to the emperor, who replied—

"Leave it to the child's own heart."

If you wish to know in what fashion the news was officially announced to the Court of Vienna, see the original letter of Sir Hudson Lowe to Baron Sturmer—

"SAINT-HELENA, 27May1821"MONSIEUR LE BARON,—He is no more! A disease which, according to the opinion current in his family, was hereditary, carried him to the grave on the 5th of this month: tumour and cancer of the stomach near the pylorus. On opening the body, with the consent of the persons of his entourage, they discovered an ulcer close to the pylorus which caused adherence to the liver; and, on opening the stomach, they could trace the progress of the disease. The interior of the stomach was almost entirely amass of cancerous disease, or of scirrhous portions advancing the cancer.His father died of the same disease at the age of thirty-six; it should have struck him down when he was on the throne of Franceat the hour fixed by fate,according to his own way of thinking on the subject.He was not confined to his room until 17 March; but a change had been noticeable in him since last November, an unusual pallor and a peculiar way of walking. He, however, took exercise twice a day, generally in a little carriage; but his paleness and weakness seemed always to persist."He was offered the advice of English doctors, but he would not receive any visit from them until 1 April, the month before his death. It was Professor Antomarchi who attended him before this period and continued to do so to his decease: it was he, too, who opened the body in the presence of nearly every doctor on the island. Dr. Arnott, of the 20th Regiment, a very clever and experienced man, was called in to see him on 1 April, and continued to attend him to the last. He has notified his gratitude to him by bequeathing him a gold snuff-box, the last he used, on which he engraved with his own hand the letter N. He has also left him a sum of money (five hundred pounds)."Comte Montholon is the principal depositary of his last wishes; Comte Bertrand only came second."He had strongly urged Comte Bertrand to do his utmost to make peace with me, saving always his sense of honour: I was not even told of this. He made advances, and, as I have no rancour in my disposition (as far as a person can judge of himself), I did not repulse them."It was, however, all along more on account of the pretensions of the great marshal and his wounded pride, rather than those of the emperor, that caused matters to go wrong here from the very first; and from information received, it is evident that towards the end the emperor began to see this."There is a codicil to his will by which all the effects here are left to Comtes Bertrand and Montholon and to Marchand. Montholon is the principal executor. They knew nothing, or they said they knew nothing, of the will."In view of the time you spent here, I am induced to think that these few details will be specially interesting to you, and I will not make excuses for intruding them upon you. Give my compliments and those of LadyLowe to Madame la baronne de Sturmer, and, believe me always, Your faithful and obedient Servant,"H. LOWE, M.P.""P.S.—Bonaparte had himself guessed the cause of his illness. Some time before his death, he desired that his body should be opened, in order, as he told Bertrand and Montholon, to discover if there were any means of saving his son from the malady."Excuse my scrawl."H. L."

"SAINT-HELENA, 27May1821

"MONSIEUR LE BARON,—He is no more! A disease which, according to the opinion current in his family, was hereditary, carried him to the grave on the 5th of this month: tumour and cancer of the stomach near the pylorus. On opening the body, with the consent of the persons of his entourage, they discovered an ulcer close to the pylorus which caused adherence to the liver; and, on opening the stomach, they could trace the progress of the disease. The interior of the stomach was almost entirely amass of cancerous disease, or of scirrhous portions advancing the cancer.His father died of the same disease at the age of thirty-six; it should have struck him down when he was on the throne of Franceat the hour fixed by fate,according to his own way of thinking on the subject.He was not confined to his room until 17 March; but a change had been noticeable in him since last November, an unusual pallor and a peculiar way of walking. He, however, took exercise twice a day, generally in a little carriage; but his paleness and weakness seemed always to persist.

"He was offered the advice of English doctors, but he would not receive any visit from them until 1 April, the month before his death. It was Professor Antomarchi who attended him before this period and continued to do so to his decease: it was he, too, who opened the body in the presence of nearly every doctor on the island. Dr. Arnott, of the 20th Regiment, a very clever and experienced man, was called in to see him on 1 April, and continued to attend him to the last. He has notified his gratitude to him by bequeathing him a gold snuff-box, the last he used, on which he engraved with his own hand the letter N. He has also left him a sum of money (five hundred pounds).

"Comte Montholon is the principal depositary of his last wishes; Comte Bertrand only came second.

"He had strongly urged Comte Bertrand to do his utmost to make peace with me, saving always his sense of honour: I was not even told of this. He made advances, and, as I have no rancour in my disposition (as far as a person can judge of himself), I did not repulse them.

"It was, however, all along more on account of the pretensions of the great marshal and his wounded pride, rather than those of the emperor, that caused matters to go wrong here from the very first; and from information received, it is evident that towards the end the emperor began to see this.

"There is a codicil to his will by which all the effects here are left to Comtes Bertrand and Montholon and to Marchand. Montholon is the principal executor. They knew nothing, or they said they knew nothing, of the will.

"In view of the time you spent here, I am induced to think that these few details will be specially interesting to you, and I will not make excuses for intruding them upon you. Give my compliments and those of LadyLowe to Madame la baronne de Sturmer, and, believe me always, Your faithful and obedient Servant,"H. LOWE, M.P."

"P.S.—Bonaparte had himself guessed the cause of his illness. Some time before his death, he desired that his body should be opened, in order, as he told Bertrand and Montholon, to discover if there were any means of saving his son from the malady.

"Excuse my scrawl."H. L."

Do you notice that, in no part of the letter is the name of the dead man used? It is only in the postscript that it falls from the pen of the herald of death.

Was it not because the gaoler was ashamed to pronounce the name of his captive; the executioner felt remorse in pronouncing the name of the sufferer? When Napoleon was dead the whole world turned its attention, which had been divided between Schönbrünn and Saint-Helena, solely towards Schönbrünn.

Prince Metternich is appointed to teach the history of Napoleon to the Duc de Reichstadt—The duke's plan of political conduct—The poet Barthélemy at Vienna—His interviews with Count Dietrichstein—Opinion of the Duc de Reichstadt on the poemNapoléon en Égypte

"Prince Metternich," says M. de Montbel, "was expressly charged to teach the Duc de Reichstadt theexact and completehistory of Napoleon." What irony! To charge the man who signed the instructions of M. de Sturmer, the representative of Austria Saint-Helena, to teach the son theexact and completestory of the father whose name the son no longer bore, whose title and arms he no longer carried!

Poor prisoner! Could they but have added this torture to thy agony by saying to thee, "Thy son only knows thee through the appreciation and according to the narrative of M. de Metternich!"

"I desire," said the Emperor Francis to the Prime Minister, "that the duke should respect the memory of his father, take example from his great qualities and learn to know his faults in order to avoid them and be warned against their fatal influence. Speak to the prince about his father as you would like people to speak of you to your own son. Do not, because of that, hide the truth from him, but instruct him, I repeat, to honour his memory."

"'Henceforth," says M. de Montbel, with an artlessness which might very well be intended more for sarcasm than duplicity, "M. de Metternich directed the Duc de Reichstadtin his superior historical studies. By putting before him unexceptionable documents, he accustomed him to know the good faith of factions and the justice of party spirit; he tried to form his mind to habits of sane criticism, to enlighten his reason by teaching him to appraise actions and events from their causes as well as judge them from results. The Duc de Reichstadt received this advanced education with great enthusiasm: the justice and penetration of his mind made him fully appreciate its importance. In proportion as he read works relative to the history of our dayshe consulted the Prince Metternich in all his doubts,he loved to question his experience and his recognised cleverness in many great events in which he had taken an active part. From this time the young duke displayed habitual eagerness to be near M. de Metternich."

The poor child's whole life was henceforth to be contained in the few lines we have just quoted.

Once, when he met the emperor and the prince together, he went up to them and said—

"The chief object of my life ought to be that I should not be unworthy of my father's renown; I shall attain this noble end, as far as it is in my power. I shall some day succeed in making one of his high qualities my own by avoiding the rocks they made him encounter. I shall fail in the duties his memory lays upon me if I become the plaything of factions and the tool of intrigues. The son of Napoleon can never descend to the despicable rôle of an adventurer!"

From the moment the Duc de Reichstadt showed such reasonableness, M. de Metternich and the Emperor of Austria had henceforth nothing more to fear.

It was about this time, and when the political education of the young prince had been finished by M. de Metternich, that Méry and Barthélemy published, on 10 November 1828, their poem,Napoléon en Égypte.The tremendous success of the poem is well known. Henceforward one pious idea sprang up in their hearts and in their minds;one of them would go to Vienna and offer to the young duke the epic poem, the hero of which is his father. Barthélemy went. We will let him describe his pilgrimage, and will afterwards relate the effect his presence produced in Vienna.

"The object of my journey being to be presented to the Duc de Reichstadt and to offer our poem to him, you may imagine I neglected no possible means of attaining it. Among the numbers of people who testified some interest in the matter, some were entirely without influence, others, with some reason, feared to mix themselves up in an affair of this nature. So I found myself reduced to being my own adviser and protector. I thought that, instead of making use of roundabout ways, which would have drawn down serious suspicions as to my peaceful intentions, it would be better to approach the object of my journey at Vienna. Accordingly, I presented myself to the Comte de Czernin, who is the emperor'sOberhofmeister,an office which I believe answers to that of grand chamberlain. The venerable old man received me with a kindness and complaisancy which touched me much; and when I propounded to him the object of my visit, he did not seem at all surprised at it: only he told me to address myself to Comte Dietrichstein, who was specially responsible for the young prince's education, and he even wished me to introduce myself under his auspices. I did not lose a moment, on quitting Comte de Czernin, but presented myself immediately to M. Dietrichstein. It gave me genuine pleasure to be in the company of one of the most amiable and highly accomplished lords of the Court of Vienna. To the office of first tutor to the Duc de Reichstadt he added the office of director of the library, and, in view of this latter title, I could boldly put forward my condition as a man of letters. He indeed told me that our names and works were known to him; that he had even taken the trouble to send to France for all the brochures which we had published up to that time, and that he was impatiently awaiting our last poem. As I had armed myself with a copy ready for any opportunity, I hastened to offer him one, and even! to write and sign a dedication to him inside it, whichappeared to please him much. Encouraged by this reception, I thought it a propitious moment to make a decisive overture."'Monsieur le Comte,' I said to him, 'as you have shown such great kindness to me, I will venture to pray you to help me in the business that has brought me to Vienna. I have come with the sole object of presenting this book to the Duc de Reichstadt; no one can second me better in my design than his head-tutor. I hope that you will indeed accede to my request.'"At the first words of this humble, verbal request, the count's face assumed an expression not so much of displeasure as of uneasiness and constraint; he seemed to be amiable enough to have emboldened me to make the demand, and, no doubt, he would have preferred not to be under the necessity of answering me. After a few minutes' silence, he said to me—"'Is it really true that you have come to Vienna to see the young prince?... Who can have encouraged you in such a proceeding? Is it possible that you have reckoned on your journey being successful? They must indeed have false, and even ridiculous, notions in France about what goes on here? Do you not know that the politics of France and those of Austria are equally opposed to it, and that no stranger whatever, especially not a Frenchman, can be presented to the prince? What you ask is, therefore, totally impossible. I am truly sorry that you have taken such a long and troublesome journey without any chance of success,' etc., etc."I replied that I had no commission from anybody to come to Austria; that it was my own action, and that I had decided on the journey without outside pressure; that in France it was generally thought not to be difficult to be presented to the Duc de Reichstadt, and that they had even been assured that he received the French with most particular kindliness; that, besides, the precautionary measures which kept foreigners away did not seem to me to apply to me, simply a man of letters, or to an inconspicuous citizen, who had never filled any political rôle or office."'I perceive,' I added, 'that my zeal may seem exaggerated to you; yet reflect that we have just publisheda poem on Napoleon. Is it, then, strange that we should wish to present it to his son? Do you think a literary man has a hidden object? You only have to convince yourself to the contrary. I do not ask an interview with the prince without witnesses: it shall be before you, before ten persons if you like, and if a single word escapes from me which can alarm the most suspicious political feeling, I consent to end my days in an Austrian prison.'"The tutor replied that all the rumours spread abroad through France on the subject of persons presented to the Duc de Reichstadt were completely false: that he was persuaded that the object of my journey was purely literary, and detached from all political thought; but that, nevertheless, it was impossible for him to go beyond his orders; that the strictest guard prevented this kind of interview; that the measures taken were not the result of momentary caprice, but of a constant system adopted by both the Courts; that it was not applicable to me alone, but to all who attempted to approach the prince, and that I should be wrong to feel myself especially hurt on account of it."'In fact,' he added, 'these rigorous measures should be excused on the ground of fear of an attempt upon his person.'"'But,' I said to him, 'an attempt of that nature is always to be apprehended on behalf of the Duc de Reichstadt, for the duke is not surrounded by guards. A resolute man could always gain access to him, and one second would suffice to commit a crime! Your watchfulness is, therefore, at fault in this respect. Now you, perhaps, fear that too free conversation with foreigners may reveal secrets to him or inspire him with dangerous hopes; but, with all your power, Monsieur le Comte, is it possible for you to prevent a letter, a petition, some warning, being transmitted to him, openly or clandestinely, whether during a walk, or at the theatre, or in any other place? For instance, if, instead of having frankly applied to you, I had posted myself in his way; if I had boldly gone up to him, and, in your very presence, had handed him a copy ofNapoléon en Égypte... you can very well see how I could have ruined all your precautions, andI could have fulfilled my object, though, I confess, it would have been by violent means; but then, it is none the less true that the prince would have received my copy, and would have read it, or, at least, would have known the title of it.'"M. Dietrichstein made me a reply which froze me with astonishment—"'Listen, monsieur; be very sure that the prince only hears or sees or reads what we wish him to read or see or hear. If he received a letter, an envelope, a book, which had evaded our vigilance, and it came to him without passing through our hands, believe me, his first care would be to hand it to us before opening it; he would not decide to look at it until we had pronounced he could do so safely.'"'After that, Monsieur le Comte, it seems to me that the son of Napoleon is very far from being as free as in France he is supposed to be!'"Answer—'The prince is not a prisoner ... but he is in a quite peculiar position. Please do not press me any further with your questions: I cannot satisfy you thoroughly: give up the plan which brought you here. I repeat, it is an absolute impossibility.'"'Very well, you take away all hope from me! I can certainly not apply to any one else after your decision, and I feel it is useless to renew my entreaties; but, at all events, you cannot refuse to give him this copy in the name of the authors. He has no doubt a library, and the book is not dangerous enough to be placed on the Index.'"M. Dietrichstein shook his head irresolutely. I saw it was painful to him to overwhelm me with two refusals on the same day; so, not wishing to compel him to be too explicit, I bade him good-bye, begging him to read the poem, to convince himself that it contained nothing seditious, and hoping that, being convinced, he would consent to favour my second request."About a fortnight later, I returned to the head-tutor and resumed my former importunities. He was amazed at my persistency."'I really do not understand you!' he said to me; 'you place too much importance on seeing the prince.Be satisfied to know that he is happy, that he is without ambition. His career is all mapped out: he will never go near France;he will not even think of doing it.Repeat all this to your compatriots; disabuse their minds, if it be possible. I do not ask you to keep what I have told you secret; quite the reverse: I beg you, on your return to France, to announce it, and even to write of it if you like. As for the placing of your copy, do not count on it. Your book is extremely beautiful as poetry; but it is dangerous for the son of Napoleon. Your style is full of imagination and vivacity of description; these qualities, and the colouring you give to history, all might excite enthusiasm in his young head and vivify the germs of ambition, and these, not being able to produce any result, would only serve to disgust him with his actual position. He knows all he ought to know about history,—that is to say, dates and names. You must see, after this, that your book cannot be suitable for him.'"I still insisted for some time; but I soon saw that the head-tutor only listened to me out of civility. I did not wish to exhaust myself over useless prayers, and therefore, disabused of my innocent chimera, I looked upon the visit as a farewell audience and only thought of returning to France."Up to the moment of my departure I continued to visit the persons who had testified to so much interest in me. At one of these peaceful gatherings they repeated to me a suggestion of the Duc de Reichstadt which struck me particularly. I had it from a reliable source, and if I were not afraid of damaging the fortune of that person, I would mention her here; but we will content ourselves with the statement that she saw the prince in familiar intercourse every day. Latterly, the odd youth seemed absorbed by one rooted idea; he was entirely distracted during his lessons. Suddenly he struck his forehead impatiently, and let slip these words:—"'But what do they wish to do with me then? Do they think I have a head like my father's?...'"One must conclude, therefore, that the living rampart which surrounded him had been cleared; that a letter or an indiscreet envelope had been sprung upon him, and for once he had violated the orders which theyprescribed him, of not reading anything without the consent of his teachers."

"'Monsieur le Comte,' I said to him, 'as you have shown such great kindness to me, I will venture to pray you to help me in the business that has brought me to Vienna. I have come with the sole object of presenting this book to the Duc de Reichstadt; no one can second me better in my design than his head-tutor. I hope that you will indeed accede to my request.'

"At the first words of this humble, verbal request, the count's face assumed an expression not so much of displeasure as of uneasiness and constraint; he seemed to be amiable enough to have emboldened me to make the demand, and, no doubt, he would have preferred not to be under the necessity of answering me. After a few minutes' silence, he said to me—

"'Is it really true that you have come to Vienna to see the young prince?... Who can have encouraged you in such a proceeding? Is it possible that you have reckoned on your journey being successful? They must indeed have false, and even ridiculous, notions in France about what goes on here? Do you not know that the politics of France and those of Austria are equally opposed to it, and that no stranger whatever, especially not a Frenchman, can be presented to the prince? What you ask is, therefore, totally impossible. I am truly sorry that you have taken such a long and troublesome journey without any chance of success,' etc., etc.

"I replied that I had no commission from anybody to come to Austria; that it was my own action, and that I had decided on the journey without outside pressure; that in France it was generally thought not to be difficult to be presented to the Duc de Reichstadt, and that they had even been assured that he received the French with most particular kindliness; that, besides, the precautionary measures which kept foreigners away did not seem to me to apply to me, simply a man of letters, or to an inconspicuous citizen, who had never filled any political rôle or office.

"'I perceive,' I added, 'that my zeal may seem exaggerated to you; yet reflect that we have just publisheda poem on Napoleon. Is it, then, strange that we should wish to present it to his son? Do you think a literary man has a hidden object? You only have to convince yourself to the contrary. I do not ask an interview with the prince without witnesses: it shall be before you, before ten persons if you like, and if a single word escapes from me which can alarm the most suspicious political feeling, I consent to end my days in an Austrian prison.'

"The tutor replied that all the rumours spread abroad through France on the subject of persons presented to the Duc de Reichstadt were completely false: that he was persuaded that the object of my journey was purely literary, and detached from all political thought; but that, nevertheless, it was impossible for him to go beyond his orders; that the strictest guard prevented this kind of interview; that the measures taken were not the result of momentary caprice, but of a constant system adopted by both the Courts; that it was not applicable to me alone, but to all who attempted to approach the prince, and that I should be wrong to feel myself especially hurt on account of it.

"'In fact,' he added, 'these rigorous measures should be excused on the ground of fear of an attempt upon his person.'

"'But,' I said to him, 'an attempt of that nature is always to be apprehended on behalf of the Duc de Reichstadt, for the duke is not surrounded by guards. A resolute man could always gain access to him, and one second would suffice to commit a crime! Your watchfulness is, therefore, at fault in this respect. Now you, perhaps, fear that too free conversation with foreigners may reveal secrets to him or inspire him with dangerous hopes; but, with all your power, Monsieur le Comte, is it possible for you to prevent a letter, a petition, some warning, being transmitted to him, openly or clandestinely, whether during a walk, or at the theatre, or in any other place? For instance, if, instead of having frankly applied to you, I had posted myself in his way; if I had boldly gone up to him, and, in your very presence, had handed him a copy ofNapoléon en Égypte... you can very well see how I could have ruined all your precautions, andI could have fulfilled my object, though, I confess, it would have been by violent means; but then, it is none the less true that the prince would have received my copy, and would have read it, or, at least, would have known the title of it.'

"M. Dietrichstein made me a reply which froze me with astonishment—

"'Listen, monsieur; be very sure that the prince only hears or sees or reads what we wish him to read or see or hear. If he received a letter, an envelope, a book, which had evaded our vigilance, and it came to him without passing through our hands, believe me, his first care would be to hand it to us before opening it; he would not decide to look at it until we had pronounced he could do so safely.'

"'After that, Monsieur le Comte, it seems to me that the son of Napoleon is very far from being as free as in France he is supposed to be!'

"Answer—'The prince is not a prisoner ... but he is in a quite peculiar position. Please do not press me any further with your questions: I cannot satisfy you thoroughly: give up the plan which brought you here. I repeat, it is an absolute impossibility.'

"'Very well, you take away all hope from me! I can certainly not apply to any one else after your decision, and I feel it is useless to renew my entreaties; but, at all events, you cannot refuse to give him this copy in the name of the authors. He has no doubt a library, and the book is not dangerous enough to be placed on the Index.'

"M. Dietrichstein shook his head irresolutely. I saw it was painful to him to overwhelm me with two refusals on the same day; so, not wishing to compel him to be too explicit, I bade him good-bye, begging him to read the poem, to convince himself that it contained nothing seditious, and hoping that, being convinced, he would consent to favour my second request.

"About a fortnight later, I returned to the head-tutor and resumed my former importunities. He was amazed at my persistency.

"'I really do not understand you!' he said to me; 'you place too much importance on seeing the prince.Be satisfied to know that he is happy, that he is without ambition. His career is all mapped out: he will never go near France;he will not even think of doing it.Repeat all this to your compatriots; disabuse their minds, if it be possible. I do not ask you to keep what I have told you secret; quite the reverse: I beg you, on your return to France, to announce it, and even to write of it if you like. As for the placing of your copy, do not count on it. Your book is extremely beautiful as poetry; but it is dangerous for the son of Napoleon. Your style is full of imagination and vivacity of description; these qualities, and the colouring you give to history, all might excite enthusiasm in his young head and vivify the germs of ambition, and these, not being able to produce any result, would only serve to disgust him with his actual position. He knows all he ought to know about history,—that is to say, dates and names. You must see, after this, that your book cannot be suitable for him.'

"I still insisted for some time; but I soon saw that the head-tutor only listened to me out of civility. I did not wish to exhaust myself over useless prayers, and therefore, disabused of my innocent chimera, I looked upon the visit as a farewell audience and only thought of returning to France.

"Up to the moment of my departure I continued to visit the persons who had testified to so much interest in me. At one of these peaceful gatherings they repeated to me a suggestion of the Duc de Reichstadt which struck me particularly. I had it from a reliable source, and if I were not afraid of damaging the fortune of that person, I would mention her here; but we will content ourselves with the statement that she saw the prince in familiar intercourse every day. Latterly, the odd youth seemed absorbed by one rooted idea; he was entirely distracted during his lessons. Suddenly he struck his forehead impatiently, and let slip these words:—

"'But what do they wish to do with me then? Do they think I have a head like my father's?...'

"One must conclude, therefore, that the living rampart which surrounded him had been cleared; that a letter or an indiscreet envelope had been sprung upon him, and for once he had violated the orders which theyprescribed him, of not reading anything without the consent of his teachers."

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