Chapter V: Anecdotes From a Prisoner of Napoleon (2)

On an occasion, destined to be momentous in the life of another friend of Stanhope, did the Chevalier have an opportunity of displaying his exquisite manners to the full. One day young Stanhope was walking through the streets of Verdun with a friend of his, Captain Strachey, [9] when they met a young Frenchman of their acquaintance, "one, indeed," he remarks, "of the few _ancienne noblesse_ of Verdun."

'Ah, Monsieur Stanhope,' said the Frenchman, 'you must go to the Cathedral, my cousin is the Quêteuse [10] to-day; you must give her a Napoleon at least!' Strachey announced that he would like to go with me, and together accordingly we went.

"At the appointed time the Quêteuse made her appearance. She proved to be a most lovely girl, dressed in black silk, with a garland of snow-white marguerites on her head. As a mark of particular attention from the ecclesiastical authorities, she was permitted the escort of the Chevalier de la Lance, who, thoroughly enjoying the situation, held the tips of her fingers and conducted her with all the airs and graces of the olden time through the crowd assembled in the church. At length, preceded by the beadle in full costume, she approached the place where we were standing. The graceful simplicity of her manners formed an admirable contrast to the affectation of the old chevalier. With a low courtsey, and with a smile which united the sweetest expression to the most perfect modesty, she presented her purse to each of us in our turn. I was no longer at the happy age when the heart is carried away by every sweet glance; but I own that, for the moment, I was bewildered by the beautiful sight which the young girl presented, as, engaged in so holy a cause, and with her extraordinary loveliness framed by the picturesque surrounding of Gothic arches, she might well have been mistaken for the vision of an angel. All the money in my pocket was at once transferred to the little silk purse of the fair petitioner; but to Captain Strachey's peace that smile was far more fatal. It was decisive of the destiny of his life. A copy of French verses which he penned to the beautiful Quêteuse was the first proof of the impression produced upon his heart. Many were the obstacles with which he had to contend; but at length the lovely Mlle, de la Roche became the bride of the English prisoner."

There was, however, but little intercourse between the English and the French families at Verdun. "There is one set," Stanhope writes, "who keep themselves very select and consider themselves _par excellence_ the society of the town. Almost the only English admitted into their circle are the Marine officers. It is said that they obtained this preference by persuading the French that they are distinguished by the title of _Royal_ Marines entirely because they rank highest in the British service!"

Only a certain Mr and Mrs S. who belonged to the class of _détenus_ were allowed, on sufferance, occasionally to mingle with the French families; and in this connection Stanhope relates one more story.

"My fair countrywoman, who is sharing the captivity of her husband, formerly an officer in the army, is singularly attractive. If her features were not too pronounced and her form much too thin, she would be a very pretty woman. As it is, there is something remarkably airy and graceful in her figure, and very lively in her countenance. Still more lively is she in her manners. She is, indeed, one of the cleverest and most sarcastic women I ever knew, very agreeable when you are not yourself the object of her satire. In order to preserve her character for wit, she is not very scrupulous in her language; and in consequence of this an Englishman once ventured to make her an insulting proposal, upon which she very quietly caught up the poker and knocked him down, thus establishing her reputation in such a forcible manner that, whatever she has subsequently been bold enough to say, she is quite certain of being considered a perfect Diana.

"An adventure occurred to her which would be amusing if I could tell it in her own language. On one of the coldest nights of a severe winter she left her apartments to go to one of our Verdun balls. Her husband pleaded a severe headache as an excuse for not accompanying her; and, that her amusement might not be disturbed by any disagreeable suspicions, he actually retired to bed and enacted the part of a sick man so well that he eluded even her penetrating glance. No sooner, however, had the carriage driven off which conveyed her to the ball, than up jumped the sick man, dressed himself and set off to the club in order to indulge his darling passion for play. At an hour rather earlier than he had calculated upon, his wife left the ball, doubtless anxious to look after her invalid husband. She was driven home by a friend, and in order to inconvenience the latter as little as possible, she got out of the carriage without waiting for the house-door to be opened, and allowed her friend to drive away. It was a piercingly cold night, the ground was covered with snow, and she picked her way carefully up the steps and then felt in her pocket for her _passe-partout_. To her horror she discovered it was not there, she had forgotten to take it out with her! She used all her efforts to rouse her sleeping husband or some of the inmates, but in vain. No resource remained but for her to walk, quarterdeck, in her satin shoes and ball dress, the bodice of which, to make matters worse, was generally very décolleté.

"While engaged in this truly miserable occupation, who should come up but her husband, returning from his club! Had he had the key in his pocket much might have been forgiven him, but he, too, had forgotten it. He was obliged, therefore, to join his wife's promenade before the door of their lodgings, and submit to a snowy curtain-lecture, till dawn broke, and the miserable, shivering couple were at last able to make themselves heard by the inmates of the house."

Many years afterwards John Stanhope related a yet more extraordinary meeting which occurred to this same couple.

"When the allied troops entered France, the hope of that liberty of which he had so long been deprived was again kindled in the breast of Captain S., and at length rose to such a pitch as to overpower all other considerations, till he made his escape _en garçon_ from the _dépôt_. The unpleasant situation of his wife when she found herself thus abandoned in the midst of a foreign land may be imagined; but she was not the type of woman to give herself up to despair. After some time had elapsed she set off with the intention of making her solitary way to England. During her journey she encountered a detachment of the Russian army, and on finding herself surrounded by troops, nothing daunted, she demanded to be taken to the General commanding them. She was conducted to his presence and was received by him and his aide-de-camp, who stood beside him. Something in the appearance of the latter attracted her attention--she looked again and again--did her eyes deceive her, or was that figure in a Russian uniform, with an order at his button-hole and his face partly concealed by heavy moustachios, indeed her husband? Another look converted her doubts into certainty, and she was in her husband's arms. He had directed his course towards the Russian army, been of great service to the General--probably by giving him information on the state of the country--and had been rewarded by the situation he now held.

"He subsequently re-entered the English army, having obtained a commission in the Horse Guards. Later, I often saw the fair heroine of this story riding in Hyde Park, in a costume which resembled the uniform of her husband's regiment, and accompanied by a daughter whose grace as an equestrian was set off by her personal beauty, whilst an orderly enacting the part of a groom completed the singular appearance of the group."

Meanwhile, amongst the men of all nationalities who were to be found among the prisoners, certain of these, like Captain S., from time to time succeeded in effecting their escape. One brazenly went as a courier carrying despatches to the _grande armeé_; another cleverly passed himself off as a Custom House officer and actually accompanied a battalion of French soldiers, during the whole time receiving the utmost civility from the unsuspecting officers and men. But all studiously avoided Naval disguises, for the French believed that there was some peculiar predisposition in English blood to the Naval Service; indeed, on this account, all English foundlings were sent to Marseilles or Toulon to be brought up as sailors!

Once, during John Stanhope's residence at Verdun, did Napoleon pass through the town. When this occurred, the young _détenu_ made his way so close to the carriage and inspected its occupant with such determined scrutiny that, he adds with satisfaction, "I can boast that I made Napoleon himself draw back!" His description, entered in his journal, of the Man of Destiny, then approaching the reverse of his fortunes, is of peculiar interest.

"How shall I describe him? He was in a coloured nightcap, not a very Imperial, nor, at any time, a becoming costume; he had travelled all night, which, also, is neither calculated to improve a man's beauty, nor to shed a ray of good-humour over his countenance. His face looked swollen, his complexion sallow and livid; his eyes--but it is impossible to describe the expression of those eyes; I need only say that they were the true index of his character. There was in them a depth of reflection, a power of intention (if I may so call it) of seeing into the souls of men; there was a murkiness, a dark scowl, that made me exclaim-' Nothing in the world would tempt me to go one hour in that carriage with that man!' I could understand the power of that eye, under the glance of which the proudest heart in France shrank abashed; but still the whole countenance rather brought to my memory the early impressions I had formed of a moody schoolmaster, than those of a Caesar or an Alexander." [11]

The days were then long past, however, when Napoleon's assumption of regal magnificence had provoked merriment among those as yet unfamiliar with it. In 1804 Lady Louisa Stuart had recorded how the unaccustomed deference with which the first consul elected to be treated was viewed in the nature of a farce by those surrounding him. Everyone of any rank who employed the titles by which the parvenu monarch desired to be called, did so as a recognised jest. "_Sa Majesté Impériale et puis du rire_!" But if that phase had now gone by and the boldest in France had learnt to quail before the piercing glance of the usurper, there remained apparently a few stout English hearts in whom he still failed to inspire awe. John Stanhope relates:--

"An incident occurred during Napoleon's passage through Verdun, which, however difficult to describe with full effect, is yet too good to be omitted. An old British merchant captain went up to the window and presented a petition. This the Emperor refused to receive, observing--'I take no petitions from the English.' 'Then--d----n your eyes, you b----y son of a ----!' exclaimed the old sailor with engaging frankness, as, turning on his heels, he strode disgustedly away. Napoleon did not appear to understand this comment, but probably he had some shrewd suspicion of its nature."

So profound a sensation, however, did the countenance of the Emperor make upon John Stanhope that he could never afterwards recall it without a shudder. That sense of an all-dominant will, of a boundless egoism, of a villainy which refused to be limited and could not be gauged by any of the ordinary restrictions applicable to normal humanity, was never subsequently erased from his recollections. It must be emphasised, moreover, that John Stanhope was by temperament and training singularly cosmopolitan in his outlook, and free from insular prejudice even with regard to his country's foe, so much so that, when he again had an opportunity of observing Napoleon, he readily acknowledged the strange magnetism of the man whose personality yet filled him with such instinctive repugnance.

On this latter occasion Bonaparte was already past the meridian of his glory, and had met with reverses which enforced a more careful cultivation of his popularity with the masses. "He was," relates John Stanhope, "most gracious in his manner to the surrounding crowd, greeting them with a smile; and that smile was strikingly beautiful; there was a fascination about it, which, even in spite of my previous impressions, I could not resist."

Still more, he records with obvious pleasure an instance of the Emperor's magnanimity:--

"It would not be doing justice to Napoleon to omit the case of Captain Fane. That gallant officer had been taken prisoner in an attack that he had made upon some town on the coast of Spain. He had landed with the greater part of his crew, and carried the place with great bravery; but success was fatal to the discipline of his force. Unaccustomed as they were to fighting on shore, not all the efforts of Captain Fane could keep them together. They dispersed in all directions, plundering, and looking for wine. The French who had watched the whole proceedings from the heights, sent a force down, which, unobserved, got between them and the sea, cut off their retreat and took the whole party prisoners.

"Captain Fane, who was a true English sailor, had some dispute with the officer into whose hands he was committed on the French frontier. The latter thereupon refused to accept his parole, so that Fane was conducted to Verdun by the _gendarmes_, treated with considerable harshness, and lodged in prison at the end of each day's march. This treatment was not calculated to produce a favourable impression on his already prejudiced mind, and not unnaturally there was not in the whole depôt a more violent anti-Gallican than was Captain Fane.

"But his residence at Verdun was not long. A circumstance had occurred in the earlier part of his career which his friends justly thought likely to be of service to him in the unfortunate situation in which he now found himself. At the time of the Egyptian campaign, he had been midshipman on board a man-o'-war employed on the coast of Egypt. One day some French prisoners had been in danger of being drowned, when Fane jumped overboard and saved their lives at the risk of his own. The circumstance had at the time come to the knowledge of General Bonaparte, and he had expressed his high sense of the bravery of the young English officer.

"Now under the changed circumstances in which Captain Fane found himself, his friends did but justice to the Emperor in believing that if the occurrence were but recalled to the memory of Bonaparte, coupled with the knowledge that that once gallant midshipman was now a prisoner in his dominions, it would at least militate in favour of the captive. The information, of which Captain Fane himself would have scorned to make use, was therefore conveyed to Bonaparte, and not a moment did the Emperor hesitate. He at once ordered Captain Fane's unconditional liberation.--It is with great pleasure that I record this trait of magnanimity in Napoleon; similar instances of which more than once came under my notice."

Of Jerome Bonaparte, on the contrary, John Stanhope gives a very different description. He was one morning for a considerable time in the same room with the King of Westphalia, in fact, for over an hour, while the latter was occupied with the consumption of a lengthy breakfast, and his impression of the man whom he thus watched closely is summed up briefly:- "A more insignificant personage," he says, "I have never yet beheld!" After which he dismisses Jerome as undeserving of further comment.

After a long and dreary residence at Verdun, John Stanhope heard by chance that a French lady was desirous of having any English prisoners of undoubted respectability _en pension_ at her Château de D., near Ligny. He therefore applied to the commandant for permission to pass there what was termed _la belle saison_; and this was granted on condition that he reported himself at Verdun at the end of the month. Much delighted at the prospect of such a change in his surroundings, he therefore set out for Ligny, with his gig, two horses, and an old field captain, who attended him in the capacity of servant. His experiences are not without interest while thus resident in a French country family who were singularly typical of the period in which they lived.

The family, of whom he purposely suppresses the names, consisted of Monsieur V., a kind-hearted man, about fifty years of age. Madame V., whom he describes as "one of the most singular specimens of a French woman that it ever was my lot to meet with"; and her son-in-law and married daughter, Monsieur and Madame M.

"Madame V.," he wrote long after, "was a thorough _intrigante_, never quiet for a moment, but always with some project in her head, a constant prey to all sorts of sharpers, who flattered her, fed upon her and converted her schemes into an abundant source of profit to themselves. The great object of her ambition at this moment was to obtain the post of governess to the King of Rome. _Madame!_--I have only to represent to myself that little round figure, nearly as large as it was long and much the shape of a ball, with her Parisian graces grafted on to her pretension to the manners of the _vieille Cour_, to enjoy, even now, a hearty laugh at her vanity in supposing that it was in her power to supersede and triumph over a Montesquieu. "As it may seem extraordinary that people in the position of the V.s should have admitted English prisoners _en pension_, I ought to mention that it was entirely a _galanterie_ on the part of Monsieur. He stipulated it should be no expense to him, excepting in the article of wine, which he would freely give; that whatever benefit arose from the money paid by us, should belong entirely to Madame V.; and a considerable profit she must undoubtedly have made, as little was the addition on our account to their domestic expenditure.

"The daughter of this couple was married to a man of talent, who, however, had a brusquerie of manner which rendered him rather forbidding. He seemed to aim rather at the rough independence of Revolutionary France than at the _politesse_ which marked the _vieille Cour_ of which Madame was an exponent. He treated me, however, with the utmost kindness and attention. Originally he had been but clerk to Monsieur V. and lived in the house. As is not unusually the case under such circumstances, an attachment grew up between him and Mlle. V.; but when did the course of true love run smoothly? Madame V. had other designs for her daughter; she destined her to the arms of one of Napoleon's generals, and had already opened negotiations with a view of carrying these intentions into effect. The father, unable to resist the daughter's tears, joined with her in endeavouring to extort from Madame V. a reluctant consent; but the latter remained inflexible. After all other arguments had been exhausted in vain, Monsieur M., her daughter and even her husband threw themselves on their knees before her in tears, and entreated her to yield to their wishes. Such a scene was too much for a Frenchwoman. She yielded, and abandoning her ambitious project, gave her daughter to Monsieur M.!

"Monsieur V. thereupon built a nice house for the young couple at the extremity of the garden, so that his daughter had the advantage of being perfectly independent, and yet of living as much as she chose with her father and mother. In general they formed but one family, and great was their contentment, though this was not, in reality, increased by the circumstance of Monsieur M. having recently been raised to the dignity of Mayor of D. and Secretary to the Prefect of the Department, a situation which gave him considerable power, and made him a person of greater consequence than his father-in-law.

"Our life was very uniform. At eight o'clock punctually we met at a little building at the end of the garden which Madame had dignified by the title of _La Ferme_, though it had not a pretension of any sort to such a denomination. It was in fact a small cottage consisting of a kitchen fitted up in cottage style, a small pantry, two bedrooms above, furnished with all the luxury of modern refinement--so much for the cottage. From what books Madame V. had drawn her ideas of rural felicity I know not, but she deemed it more sentimental to breakfast in the cottage than to enjoy that meal comfortably in her dining-room, so to the _ferme_ we were to go, and, whether the weather was hot or cold, to sit near the blazing fire in the little kitchen and enjoy the rural felicity of making our own toast. At one we dined, took a ride or walk in the afternoon, and at eight sat down to supper.

"The house was not an uncomfortable, though somewhat singular one. Monsieur V. having been called away from home during the time that he was building it, Madame took advantage of his absence to take care of herself, and, in so doing, to spoil the house. She had a fancy that she could only breathe freely in a large room; she therefore constructed out of the body of the house an enormous bedroom for herself. It was square, with a dressing-room at each angle. Her husband, upon his return home, found his house completely spoilt, as this room occupied the main part of the first floor. However, as the mischief was done, he bore it with the greatest philosophy, venting his feelings with his usual exclamation on such occasions--'_Oh, ma femme! ma femme!_'

"The drawing-room was a pleasant and well-furnished room, it opened by a door, partly of glass, on to a flight of steps which served also as a bridge over a rivulet which ran close to the walls of the house. These steps led to the flower garden which was laid out in the old-fashioned style. In the centre was a fountain, round which there were beds of flowers. At the extremity of the garden there was a large orangery which had no pretentions to architectural beauty, but contained a magnificent collection of orange trees. During the warm weather, these ornamented the garden, and at a more wintry period, being ranged in rows in the orangery, afforded us an agreeable promenade.

"The gardens extended a considerable distance. They included on one side a kitchen garden and a vineyard, and on the other, to give the effect of what the French call an English garden, a wood had been considered a necessary requisite. It was cut out in walks, one of which led to the _ferme_ and another to the hermitage, so that the garden may be said to have possessed every requisite for a perfect garden. But absurd as this reunion of _bois_, hermitage and _ferme_, may sound, the gardens were really pretty, and the connecting of the kitchen garden and the vineyard with the pleasure ground not only added to its extent, but its variety. I have often thought that our English kitchen gardens, by a little more variety in their form and by an intermixture of shrubbery, might be converted into an ornamental instead of a formal addition to our country houses.

"Adjoining the drawing-room was a room, prettily furnished, in which I slept, and which also formed a not uncomfortable sitting-room when I wished to be alone. Behind the drawing-room was the dining-room, which, like all French dining-rooms, had the appearance of an anteroom. It opened into the library where there was a good collection of books and also of minerals, indeed, there was hardly anything of which there was _not_ a collection.

"On one occasion I incurred Madame V.'s serious displeasure. A hornet's nest had been discovered, and, as it was voted a great curiosity, was placed by Madame's orders among the other specimens of Natural history in the library. Warmed into life by the heat of the room, some of the hornets began to show signs of activity. The prospect was far from pleasant, and, alarmed at the disagreeable interruption about to be offered to my studies, I secretly commissioned a servant to throw the hornet's nest into the water. Boundless was the indignation of Madame V, on finding that I had deprived her museum of so great a treasure; and it was a considerable time before an act of such temerity on my part was forgiven.

"We sometimes took advantage of a fine evening to form a party in the woods. On an occasion when the Chevalier de la Lance was staying with us accompanied by his fifteen-year-old daughter, one of the prettiest of our Verdun belles, we had one of these excursions to the forest. After dinner some of the most musical of our party were requested by the young belle to enliven the evening by music. Madame M., my hostess's daughter, had a most beautiful voice, and had, of course, enjoyed all the advantages to be derived from Parisian masters. Whilst she was singing, we all observed that a nightingale perched upon one of the neighbouring trees continued silent; the moment she stopped, he began to warble forth his 'wood-notes wild.' This occurred not once, but repeatedly. He was far, however, from showing the same attention to the chevalier. Apparently not entertaining an equally good opinion of the old man's musical talents, from the moment that gentleman began to take up the song, the nightingale began also, and evidently did all in his power to drown the chevalier's voice!"

Another diversion at Ligny was _la chasse_. Monsieur M. was a great sportsman and very fond of shooting; he kept a small pack of hounds and seldom went out with them without inviting young Stanhope to accompany him. "One day," relates John Stanhope, "we were out fox-hunting on foot, our business being to head the fox and--_horresco referens_--to shoot him! The hounds were running, and all of a sudden came to a check and ceased giving tongue. At that moment Lord Boyle, who was out with us, and who was not far from me, levelled his gun and took, as it proved, a deadly aim. I looked at him in some astonishment, at a loss to imagine what game he could have seen when the hounds were not running. He fired, and then throwing up his arms in horror, cried out, at the same time stamping and raving, 'Oh! Monsieur M., I have killed your best dog!' Vexed as I was at such a disaster, I could not help laughing at the gesticulations of my friend, and at Paddy, with eyes quick enough for anything, having mistaken a _dog for a fox_. It was quite a practical Bull. No one could have behaved better than Monsieur M. He concealed his regret and said everything in his power to reassure and recompose the distracted culprit."

There was, Stanhope remarks, not much game in the neighbourhood of Ligny, though there could not be a country better adapted to it, as the house was situated between two forests, both of which abounded in wolves. "However," writes Stanhope, "I was only out one day at _la chasse aux loups_. I had been so long deprived of the amusements of a sportsman that an invitation from Monsieur M., to accompany him on the following morning produced so much excitement in my mind that I lay awake half the night ... and I was not too late for the appointed hour of six o'clock. Monsieur M., another sportsman and myself, proceeded to a distant part of the forest. We were all stationed, in advance, at different posts where it was thought likely that the wolf might cross the path. The hounds were soon in full cry. My heart beat high as I heard them approach me, but, alas! instead of the _grand gibier_ I expected, a poor little hare stole quietly by! It was a terrible falling off, and no wolf crossed our path that morning.

"Yet at the time of which I am speaking, we had pretty good proof of their being in our immediate vicinity, for one morning, when I was out walking, I heard, close to the house, a piercing yell. I ran to ascertain what was the matter and found that a favourite setter of Monsieur M., itself as big as a wolf, had just been carried off by one of these ferocious animals. Poor M. could hardly be consoled for the loss of another favourite dog, and was some days before he recovered his usual spirits. After I left Ligny, Lord Blayney and some other Verdunites killed six or seven wolves in one day's sport."

The warfare against both wolves and foxes at Ligny was, however, very essential, in view of the fact that Madame V., in order to further her favourite project of becoming Governess to the King of Rome, had resorted to a singular plan to ensure her popularity at Court.

Napoleon was exceedingly anxious to promote the progress of agriculture in France, and as a first step in that direction to introduce the breed of Merino sheep into the country. "Madame V. therefore determined to have her flock of Merinos. But as the pure breed could only be procured at a considerable cost, she resolved to arrive at the completion of her purpose in a more economical manner. She succeeded in purchasing some rams of the Merino breed, and she calculated that by crossing the sheep of the country with them she would in eight years succeed in establishing a flock of perfectly pure blood. She did not trouble herself about the evil results attributed by agriculturists to breeding in and in. Her speculation was the more extraordinary from the circumstance of her having no farm, nor any land upon which to keep her sheep; but for this difficulty she found an easy remedy. She sent out her flock under the guidance of a shepherd boy, to feed wherever food they could find, but principally in the Imperial forests.

"In order to give a greater _éclat_ to her favourite hobby, she built a magnificent sheep-shed which was finished whilst I was there. But before the sheep were introduced to their new abode, the priest was sent for to give it his blessing. This he did in due form by sprinkling holy water in all directions and consecrating it with as much solemnity as if he had been dedicating a church to the service of God. Further, to celebrate the event with yet greater pomp, she had likewise promised to give a ball; but, to the disappointment of the prisoners resident with her, she finally decided that the religious ceremony must suffice, and the Merinos were allowed to enter upon their new career with no secular demonstration to succeed the ecclesiastical."

Various indeed were the methods employed by the ambitious in order to attract the attention and win the coveted favour of Napoleon. "A person of great distinction," writes Stanhope, "the Maréchal Oudinot, who resides in the town of Bar, has built a large manufactory for the purpose of making sugar from beetroot. He does not appear to entertain any sanguine expectations of profit, for upon General Cox asking him one day, when he was dining at Bar, what had been the success of his manufactory, the Maréchal replied with rather more honesty than discretion, 'Ce n'est que pour plaire à l'Empereur!' Certainly in this point of view it was a magnificent piece of flattery!

"That this Maréchal is a _nouveau riche_ the appearance of his house at Bar sufficiently indicates. It stands in the middle of the town, and is surrounded by a high wall, upon the top of which a range of shells and bombs are represented in stone. At the entrance door stand two sentinels-- two wooden grenadiers painted in full uniform and as large as life, which certainly cannot be considered as any _preuves de noblesse_, or marks of a refined taste. One day Madame M. grievously offended this important person. Gazing at his mansion and its surrounding tokens of magnificence, she enthusiastically gave vent to a compliment which, however clever she might think it, was not calculated to flatter the pride of a _parvenu_. 'Ah! Monsieur le Maréchal!' she exclaimed indiscreetly, 'vous montez, nous descendons!'

"Indeed, what the Maréchal's origin may be, I know not; but I am told that, till quite recently, he conducted himself with the best possible feeling towards his old friends and relations, and was universally praised for the kindness and condescension of his manners. A great change, however, has lately been observed, perhaps because he has married a young and pretty girl belonging to the _ancienne noblesse_. His old friends are now treated with the greatest _hauteur_; he even requires the company at his parties to remain standing in a circle round him, and he appears to feel the regal coronet already budding upon his brows.

"Singular times, in truth, are these, when a man of the very lowest birth may indulge in such _rêveries_ without the faintest absurdity!"