uornell University Library DC 146.B56A12 1871 Life and adventures of Count Beugnot, mi 3 1924 024 302 022 Cornell University Library The original of tiiis book is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924024302022 LIFE AND ADVENTURES COUNT BEUGNOT. VOL. L LIFE AKD ADYENTUEES COUNT BEUGNOT, ilinistcr of State unticr ilapolcon E. EDITED FROM THE FRENCH CHARLOTTE M. YONGE, AUTHOU OP "the HF.IK OF EEDCLTFFE," ETC. IN TWO YOLUilES. VOL. I. LONDON : HURST AND BLACKETT, PUBLISHERS, :.-?, GREAT MAELBOEOUGH STREET. 187L The Right of TmnslaiiOfi is Hesn-red. LONDON : BBABBtTRY, EVJ^IT?, AND CO., PEINTFRS, -WHITrFHTARS. IiNTEODUCTION. The autlior of these memoirs, Jeau Claude Goimt Bengaot, was a minister mrder Napoleon I., then a member of the Government, a Deputy and Peer of France under the Restoration. Tie was born at Bar- sur-Aube on the 25th of July, 17C1. The father, Edmund Beugnot, was an advocate and receiver for the royal property in that town. The son was destined for the bar, and was early sent to Paris to attend the sittings of the Parliament in his position as licentiate of law, not yet called to the bar. The Memoirs of Count Beugnot commence at this period of his life, when he was twenty-two years of aij-e. CONTENTS OF THE FIRST VOLUME. CHAPTER I. PAGE The Countess Lamotte — Account of her Family — Iler Arrival at Bar- sur-Aube — Her Marriage — Appearance in Paris — Her First Interview with the Cardinal de Eohau — Her Liaison with him— The Queen Marie Antoinette — M. Beranger — Intrigues of Madame de Lamotte 1 CHAPTER II. My Vacation in Champagne — Visit of Madamo Lamotte — M. de Latour — Conversation at Supper — Madame de Lamotte's Rela- tions with Society — Her Plate and Jewelry — Supposed Source of Madame de Lamotte's Oj)ulence — Portrait of the Cardinal de Kohan — His Letters to Madame de Lamotte — My Career at the Bar — M. d'Ambraj-— MM. Seguier, d'Aguesseau, and Joly do Fleury — Course of the Lyceum — Pictui'e of France in 1785 — Cagliostro — Credulity of Madame de Latour . . . .28 CHAPTER III. Castle of Brienne — Clairvaux — Conversation with the Count de Dampierre — Jour de la St. Bernard — The Abbe Maury — The Diamond Necklace — My Advice to Madame de Lamotte — Letters of the Cardinal de Eohan — Arrest of Madame de Lamotte^ Conduct of the Baron de Bretcuil — Mile. d'Oliva — M. de Crosne — My Refusal to defend Madame do Lamotte — M. Doitot — Cagliostro and Serafina Feliciani — The Opposition Party . . 62 vni CONTENTS. CHAPTER lY. PAGE Eetui-n to Bar-suv-Aubo— Measures taken to Secure my Election as Deputy— The Electors — Tho Grand Bailli and his Costume- General Assembly of tbe Three Orders— M. lu Vicomte do Laval— Le Comte de Briennc— Jurisdiction of Chaumont — IJupont de Xeniours — M. Guillaume — Nomination of Gompert- le-Gbevaux — My Nomination to tlio tats Generaux — Eeoeption at Bar-sur-Aube— Insurrection of Paris— Capture of the Bas- tille — Brigandage — Decrees of August 4 93 CHAPTER V. Eeminiscences of 1793 — Order for my Arrest — Eeflections in tlie Labyrinth, Jardin des Plautes — My Arrest — The Inspector and the Gendarme — ^The Couciergerie — Companions in my Dungeon — The Infirmary — The Doctor — Night in Prison — The Girondists — Duces, Fonfredo, and Eauchet 132 CHAPTER VI. Execution of the Girondists — Tho Pevolutiojiary Tribunal — Bailly — General llouchard — Madame Eoland and the Eevolution — Eemmes do Monde in the Conoiergerie — Egle — Lamourette — ■ Death of Clavieres — The Deputy Cassj' — Conversation vdth the Advocate Lafeutrie— General La Marliere — Strange Scene of Evocation 165 CHAPTER YII. The Advocate Lafeutrie — General La Marliere— Aide-de-Camp of the Comte d'Estaing — Magic in Prison — Prisoners Condemned to Death — Suicides — Le Due du Ohfitelet — Eemoval from tho Conciergerio — La Eorce — My Eellow-Prisonors — The Native Parisian — Chambre du Conseil — Deputies in Prison — Dupont do Nemoui-s— Erancoeur, Director of the Orchestra of the Opera — J [y Refusal of a Mission to Genoa . . . . . |()y CONTENTS. IX CHAPTER VIII. PAGE The First Victim from La Force — Ex-Comto de Ferrieres- SauvelDCEuf — Toting FasHonatles in La Force — ConnseUor Leconteulx de la Noraye — Results of his Lioonsiderate De- rmnoiation — The Lesconteulx transferred to the Eveche — Ill- ness of Madame Beugnot — L'Abbe de Perigord — The Oomte de Brienne — Condemnation of Madame Elizabeth — Increased Ac- tivity of the Eevolutionary Tribunal — The Tocsin — A Friend of Eobespierre — Death of Robespierre — Restored to Liberty . . 228 CHAPTER IX. Les Annales Troyennea — M. Beugnot Prefect of La Seine Inferieure — Financial Minister of Westphalia — Appointed President of the Council of Regency of the Grand-duchy of Berg — M. de Talleyrand — Dlisseldorf — Miinster — -Feudality — Le Cohnat — Westphalia — La Marck — Nassau-Siegen — Portrait of Beurnon- ville — Murat at Diisseldorf — M. Agard — Le Due de Gaeta . . 256 CHAPTER X. Gift of the Grand-duchy of Berg to Napoleon Louis — Le Due de Bassano — M. Maret — M. Eegnault — Organisation of the Grand-ducal Government — Le Comte do Nesselrodo — • M. Fusohius — General Damas — Journey through the Grand-duchy — Secrets of German Diplomacy — Threatenings of War — Humiliation of Prussia — Major SchiU — Battle of EssUng — Le Duo de Brunswick-Oels — Battle of Wagram .... 28G CHAPTER XL Administration of the Grand- duchy —M. de Semonville— The Waters of Aix-la-Chapelle— The Court of Madame Mere— The King of Holland— La Princesse Borghese— Divorce of the Empress Josephine — Surprising Effect, in Germany, of Napoleon's Second Marriage— Introduction of the Civil Code into the Grand-duchy — M. Eosderer — Studies in Political Economy— A Miracle . .311 CONTE.\TS. CHAPTER XII. PAGE Ai'rival of the Emperor at Diisseldorf — Presentation of the Authorities — Eeview of the Troops — Council of Administration — A Stormy Sitting — Displeasure of the Emperor — Le Haras Sauvage — Un- expected Invitation to Dinner — Imperial Eamiliaritj' — Semi- official Conversation -with the Emperor Napoleon I. — The. Em- press — Dinner at the Eesidence — Reception of the Emperor in Public— Plight and Left Banks of the EMne . . . . 33j LIFE AND ADVENTFEES or COUNT BEUGNOT. CHAPTER I. The Countess Lamotte— Account of her Family — Her arriyal at Bar-sur-Aube — Her Marriage — Appearance in Paris — Her First Interview with the Cardinal de Rohan — Her Liaison with him — The Queen Marie Antoinette — M. B&anger — Intrigues of Madame de Lamotte. * * * * At this time occurred .an episode in my life which caused me most poignant anxiety, and certainly the greatest sorrow in the course of a career full of vexatious incidents. This arose from the arrival at Paris of the woman afterwards so unhappily celebrated under the name of the Countess de Lamotte. I must go far back to explain how I became acquainted with her. Mention has elsewhere been made of the rather free style of society meeting in the house of Madame de Surmont at Bar-sur-Aube. One day in the autumn of 1762, it was announced there that two fugitive princesses had made their appearance at the Hotel de la Tete Rouge ; that is to say the most miserable hostel in a town where there is not a single decent one ; and we all had a laugh at the notion of princesses in such a place. By the next day, the mists that the princesses had diffused around themselves began to clear ; it was 2 LIFE AND ADVENTUEES OF COUNT BEUGNOT. discovered that they had escaped from the convent at Longchamps, and had made then- way to Bar-sur-Aube as a central position from whence to direct their endea- vours to recover some large possessions that had be- longed to their family. This property consisted of the estates of Essoyes, Fontette, and Verpilliferes. One of these ladies was called Mademoiselle de Valois, the other Mademoiselle de Saint R^mi. This intelligence in some degree modified the first impressions of them. When I went home that evening I mentioned these particulars, and they aroused some recollections in the mind of my father. He remembered that some fifteen or twenty years before he had been obliged to go every year to Essoyes for the assessment of taxes, and when he passed through the parish of Fontette the priest never failed to make a levy on his purse for the poor little Saint Remi children. There were three of these children left alone in a miserable hovel with a little hole towards the road ; and the neighbours conveyed to them by turns through this opening some broth or other simple fare. My father said he had himself seen this, and the priest would not open the door of the hovel for fear of shocking him by the sight of these children, naked, and growing up like savages, saying that his gift would help to clothe them. My father's stoiy was quite correct. The three children so miserably brought up were the Baron de Valois, who died captain of a frigate, the famous Countess de Lamotte, and Mademoiselle de Saint R6mi, who perhaps is still living as a canoness in some corner of Germany unknown to me. Thus, these last de- scendants of tlie Baron de Remi, a natural son of Henry II., and recognised as such, had fallen into a state of misery approaching to starvation. My father had seen the hc"'^ ^,+'+Ki"q mispral-ilfi familv. and described FAMILY OF SAINT EEMI. 3 him as a man of powerful frame, living by hunting, by the spoils of the forest, on wild fruits, and even on cultivated ones obtained by theft. The members of the family of Saint Remi had for two or three generations lived this heroic life, tolerated by the people out of fear, and by the authorities from the celebrity still clinging to a name which had long been famous. This last of the family had not lived long enough to induct his son into his own manner of life ; and the village of Fontette contained no Chiron to undertake the education of this new Achilles. He and his sisters fell, in common with other destitute persons, under the care of the priest of the parish. He, poor man, had provided for their subsistence in childhood in some sort of way, as we have seen ; but notwithstanding their miserable condition the children grew, their wants increased, and their resources at the utmost remained the same. In this difficulty, the priest implored the interest of La Luzerne, the bishop of Langres, and of the Marquise de Boulainvilliers, wife of the provost of Paris, who lived on an estate not far off. He explained the origin of these children, and was hardly beheved. If there were doubts about their nobility, there could be none about their wretchedness. Their most pressing wants were provided for by these two charitable persons who had been consulted ; they were clothed ; the boy was sent to school at Bar-sur-Seine, and the two girls were put into the Ursuliue convent at Ligny, where the board of a young lady of rank at that time amounted to about five pounds per annum. Thus a,bout the end of the eighteenth century, the last natural descendants of the Valois passed into a civilised condition from one of almost savagery. One thing alone had been preserved amid the wreck of this family ; its pedigree. The priest placed it in the hands of the Bishop of Langres, and he sent it for B 2 4 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF COUNT BEUGNOT. verification to Clierin, who was then official genealogist to the King. I knew this official, on acconnt of some distant relation- ship between us. His examination was most minute, and his opinion unimpeachable. He was profoundly acquainted with the origin of all the great houses, and had he been allowed, would have banished as many- nobles from the court as Bollandus did saints from the calendar. I was somewhat posted-up by him, and some- times when I meet at the Tuilcries men who, in all good faith, are proud of their birth, I whisper to myself, " Where are you, Ch6rin?" Anyhow, he examined this title of the Saint Remis, and certified to their direct descent in the male fine from the Baron of Saint E^mi, natural son of Henry the Second. The pedigree was not quite equal on the female side, for when the Saint Remis took to the wild life of the ancients, they always married dairy-maids or servants. But that was of no great consequence, since from the beginning of the eighteenth century, inferior marriages seemed to have been fashion- able with great families, and at least they could not be reproached with having sold their dignity for riches obtained by doubtful means. They had remained so free from this taint, that there were no marriage settlements for the last three generations, but the certificates of the weddings were quite correct.* Ch6rin's certificate was of such authority as to remove all doubts, and then the government came to the rescue. The King granted to the Baron de Valois a pension of 40/., and free admission to the naval school. The "-iris besides receiving 24/. each, were placed gratuitously in * In the public papers of April 10, 1SG7, might be seen — " Died, on Wednes- day, at Tours, in his sixty-eighth year, M. Etienne Melchior de Valois de Saint Remi, late Receiver of Stamps at Tours, son of Charles II. de Valois de Saint Eemi, Baron of Fontette and Essoyes, one of the last direct descendants of Henry II. King of Franaa^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^,^- MADEMOISELLE DE SAINT EEMI. 5 the Abbey of Longchamps, near Paris. The patrons of the family and the director of the king's household had the same views. They hoped that the Baron de Valois would make no objection to take the vows of the order of St. John of Malta. His sisters might be gently per- suaded to embrace a religious life, even if it were neces- sary to hold out the prospect of an abbey for the eldest. Thus would be honourably extinguished a family which could not be more publicly produced without exposing the Kino; to the oblia:ation of furnishing them with a for- tune proportionable to their birth. The legitimate Valois were already far enough off; why should an illegitimate branch be raised up ? Money is wanted so much for other purposes. The plan was wise, and would have succeeded, had not the elder Mademoiselle de Saint Remi been armed by nature with more weapons than were necessary to upset it. The brother had reached the rank of lieutenant in the navy, and the sisters had passed six years at Long- champs, when one fine morning these young ladies made their escape from the convent in search of adventures, with a very light bundle under their arms, and just thirty shillings in their pockets. They intended to go to Bar-sur-Seine, but mistook their way and got into a barge that took them to Nogent ; they there found a cheap conveyance that awaited travellers as they left the barge to take them to Bar-sur-Aube, and adopted this means of proceeding. Of their thirty shilhngs, twenty had been spent on the road ; so that they descended at the Tete Rouge, at Bar-sur-Aube, with a crown piece each in their pockets, and their whole wardrobe one change of linen. Madame de Lamotte explained to me how it was that she determined on so sudden a departure. The Abbess who had always previously been obsequious to her, had for some time 6 LIFE AND ADVENTUEES OF COUNT BEUGNOT. past become importunate in her exliortations to her to come to a decision ; that is to say, to embrace a religious life. The order of St. Bernard was proposed as the most agreeable and offering the most speedy chance of an abbey ; but a religious life had not the smallest attrac- tion for Madame de Lamotte, and besides, she suspected from the persistence of the Abbess, that some more important interest was involved in the desire to make her take the veil, and she interpreted this interest as a dread of the claim she might raise to the family property. In the miserable hovel where she had found shelter at Fontette, she had conceived trreat notions of these &'■ claims ; and these ideas had gained strength from the care afterwards taken of her. The moment for flight Avas ill chosen, for she had no money ; but in her last conversation with her, the Abbess had gone so far as to threaten her. She had no chance but submission or flight ; and regardless of consequences she took the latter course. She had no difficulty in persuading her sister, for she had long been used to think for both. Behold her happily arrived in port ! that is to say, at the Tete Rouge Inn, at Bar-sur-Aube, and possessed of five shillings remaining from the expenses of the journey. She had prepared letters to her protectors, and Avhile awaiting their answers, was living on the credit gained by her good looks and high connections, when she received a visit from Madame de Surmont. AYe had had much trouble in persuading this lady to take this step ; but at last we managed to convince her that her position in the town required her to undertake the patronage of young ladies of quality, fugitives, perhaps persecuted, and shamefully deserted by the nobility. We had touched a chord in her heart ; she paid a visit to the ladies at the Tete Rouge, and they showed themselves very sensible of MADAME DE LAMOTTE. 7 the favour, and greatly delighted to see her. Madame de Surmont returned enchanted with her visit ; she had been quite captivated by Mademoiselle de Lamotte, who had proved that she was able to captivate others also. She was inclined to take the girls into her house, if her husband approved ; and kept on expatiating on the in- difference of the nobility in a case in which the interests of relatives of the King were involved. Her husband as usual reluctantly yielded ; and the Demoiselles de Saint Remi were installed in the house. This was the object we desired to obtain. Madame de Lamotte was not strictly beautiful ; she was of medium height, but slight and well formed ; her blue eyes, which were surmounted by black arched eye- brows, were full of expression ; her face was rather long, the mouth wide, but with beautiful teeth, and like many people of that style, she had an enchanting smile. Her hand was pretty, and her feet very small, her complexion remarkably fair. By a curious freak, nature, when forming her throat, had stopped when half was done ; and that half made one long for the rest. She was destitute of any sort of information, but she had a great deal of intelligence, and was very quick and penetrating. She braved the laws of social order, with which she had been at war from her birth, and did not pay much more attention to those of morality. She might be heard making game of both, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, and as if she had no notion of their existence. Thus, was composed a being formidable to a close observer, but captivating to the generality of those who looked from a greater distance. The sister. Mademoiselle de Saint Remi, was a large handsome girl ; very fair, very insipid, very dull ; with just enough instinct to perceive that she was a great lady, but always ready to descend from her position. 8 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OP COUNT BEUGNOT. The exterior of the Baron de Valois was ordinary, and his mind not enlarged ; but he was a sensible man, and an attentive officer. He was fond of his profession, and devoted himself to it without jwrmitting the remem- brances and hopes, nursed by his sister, to distract him from it. He died during the com-se of her trial, and not with- out some suspicion that he could not bear to awaft the conclusion of it. Such was the family that met their end amid crime and disgrace, while attempts had been made to render their lives pleasant and honourable. The Saint R6mi young ladies brought movement and life into the society of Madame de Surmont. The young people who formed a part of it, soon perceived that these ladies had much in common with the princesses of romance, and were not a bit more cruel. After due con- sideration, they would have been persuaded to condescend if some rich citizens, sincerely attached to them, had aspired to the honour of their hands. The recovery of the immense property of the family was retarded by delays, the termination of which could not be foreseen. Meanwhile, all they had to subsist on was the pension of twenty-four pounds a year, a sum on which it was im- possible to live, and they feared that Madame de Surmont might grow weary of the daily sacrifices imposed on her by her imprudent patronage. The day after their arrival at her house, she had lent the girls, in their pressing need, two white dresses, with- out the least expectation that they would wear them long, since the good lady's figure was a stout one. What was her surprise to see next morning that these dresses became them beautifully ! The fact was, the o-irls had spent the night in cutting them down and alter- ing them. They used the same licence in every- thing, and Madame de Surmont began to find that A BRAVE SPIRIT. the easy condescensions of tlie princesses carried tliem too far. It was intended tliat the Saint Remi young ladies, should not at the outside, pass more than a week at Madame de Surmont's ; they remained there a year. Time passed as it does in a little country town ; in quarrels and recon- ciliations, in trifling gossip and solemn talk, in contriving and frustrating frightful intrigues, things that never pass the walls of the city, if it has any. The genius of the elder Mademoiselle de St. Remi found, nevertheless, scope for its development in this narrow circle. She was playing a prelude -while waiting for her part. She had taken possession of the mind of M. de Surmont, and by the help of the blind attachment conceived for her by this good man, many of the aspersions she cast on all comers, and Madame de Surmont in particular, were counterbalanced. The poor hostess has often told me that the most unhappy year of her life was that which she spent in the society of that demon. I had seen little of her when she came to Bar-sur-Aube, but enough to be fascinated like the rest. "Without being aware of the danger, I admired this brave spirit that was checked by nothing, and contrasted so curiously with the timid and narrow character of the other ladies in the town. Besides, she knew how to assume, on occasion, the softness and even the weakness of her sex. She had youth, beautiful eyes, and her smile went to the heart. This was more than was requisite to make me her vassal. I was inexhaustible in her praise. The year that the Demoiselles de Saint Remi came to live at Bar- sur-Aube, my father for the first time in his life, hastened my departure for Paris, for he had a deadly horror of the unheard-of honour of uniting his blood to the remains of that of Valois. My correspondents kept me informed of the life that 10 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF COUNT BEUGNOT. these ladies passed, and of their amiable tricks. I learned that at last the elder Saint Eemi had particularly distinguished M. de Lamotte, nephew of M. de Surmont. They told me that at last this lofty spirit had found its master ; but I was a little surprised at the quarter where it had gone in search of him. M. de Lamotte was an ugly man, but well made, expert in all bodily exercises, and notwithstanding his plainness, his face had a sweet and amiable expression. What spirit he had — and he was not without it — had hitherto been directed towards inferior adventures. He was of noble blood, and the third of his name who had served in the gendarmes. His father, a knight of Saint Louis, and a quarter-master general of the army, had been killed at the battle of Minden. Destitute of any sort of fortune, he had talents enough to plunge himself in debt, and only lived on his wits and on a pension of fifteen pounds which M. de Surmont, his uncle, was obliged to allow him in order to keep him in the corps. At the present day, there is a risk of not being understood when speaking of the gendarmes, in which M. de Lamotte served. The corps preserved the ancient standard of the gendarmes so renowned in former times, when an armed man and horse were a real power. Up to the year 1787 (when it was abolished), it was the first cavalry regiment of France. The simple troopers held the rank of officers, and as such, obtained the cross of Saint Louis. But it was the refuge of the poor nobility, and likewise received citizens who could not make way in other corps of the army. The force maintained the most brilliant reputation for bravery ; but, as the private troopers did much the same duties as the soldiers of any other regiment, there was but little respect paid to them individually. The very junior sub-lieutenant of infantry considered himself above a gendarme. M. de Lamotte MAEEIAGE OF MADEMOISELLE SAINT EEMI. 11 might have been an exception, because his name recom- mended him for promotion, had his conduct been good ; but of all the means of success, good conduct was that of which he was least capable. In the course of the same month I heard that the marriage of the elder Saint Remi with M. de Lamotte was not a mere joke, then that the marriage was deter- mined on, and moreover with the consent of the Bishop of Langres, and at last that the wedding was celebrated. Each of these pieces of news as it arrived redoubled my surprise, and it reached its height when I learnt that the very next month Madame de Lamotte had given birth to twin boys, who only survived a few days. The last circumstance reduced to the class of very common events a marriage that up to that time had appeared so strange. All was explained, even to the approval of the Bishop of Langres, which was on the prelate's side only a forced consent. Madame de Surmont had been deceived to the end by her nephew and Mademoiselle de Saint Remi ; and as soon as she knew of the insult they had offered to her house, she forbade the former to come thither, and sent off the latter. They took refuge with Madame Latour, a sister of M. de Lamotte, who herself having very little to live on could not long support her two visitors. Mademoiselle de Saint Remi had given two years of her pension for fifty pounds, and with these did her best to take her share of the display reqitired by the nuptial ceremony. M. de Lamotte sold for the same purpose, for twenty-four pounds in ready money, a horse and car- riage that he had bought on credit at Luneville. Thus did they commence house-keeping. After the children were born and they had time to review their position, it was evident that it was one of great difficulty. There was no course that Madame de 13 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF COUNT BEUGNOT. Lamotte could adopt but to run the risk of a journey to Paris, the receptacle of all the wealth and all the misery of France. They had no money and very little credit, but had the good fortune to manage to borrow fifty pounds from my father, who had not forgotten the poor children of Fontette, to whom he had given a few crowns as alms, and besides, he rather gloried in a few such acts of generosity. He liked Mademoiselle de Saint Remi as soon as he was sure she would never be his daughter-in- law. He had beheld her marriage with such perfect satisfaction, that he would have been glad to have de- frayed the whole expenses. I have already spoken ill of Madame de Lamotte, and shall have more to say ; but I wish to be entirely just. Her gratitude towards my father was perfect ; and she never spoke of him and of the service he had rendered to her without emotion. In her brief moments of wealth, she not only returned the sum that had been lent to her, but my father was even twice obliged to return to her a box intended, as she said, for payment of interest, and worth nearly as much as the capital. The sum total of the loan was justly, that is to say equally, divided between Monsieur and Madame de La- motte. The husband took twenty-five pounds, and went to Fontette to engage in proceedings for recovering possession of the property of the house of Saint Remi, and Madame de Lamotte went to Paris with a like sum to utilise her husband's discoveries. On her arrival she stopped in the Rue de la Verricia, at the Hotel de Reims, a kind of inn, of about as good reputation as the Tete Rouge, at Bar-sur-Aube. From that place I received one morning a note from Madame de Lamotte to tell me of her arrival, and in- forming me that she had brought a letter from my father and wished to deliver it the same day. I had more than SEAECH FOE TITLES 13 one reason for haste, and went to her hnmediately. By her permission I then read my father's letter, which contained an expression of real interest in Madame de Lamotte. My father wished me to consider carefully whether her claim was well-founded, and, if it was, to do all in my power to assist her. He added, that the lady was very amiable (I had known it before he did), that she was aware of the imfortunate position in which she had placed herself, and it would be inhuman to desert her. He told me nothing about the charity that had prompted him to a loan of fifty pounds. I took the matter into serious consideration, as my father wished. I gave a scheme for a search for titles in the public archives of the places where the property of the Saint Remi family had been situated, and I em- ployed myself in investigations in the archives of the Rolls Office in Paris. I easily found the letters-patent of Henry II., conferring on his natural son, the lands, the recovery of which was claimed ; but I could not discover on the file any deed that had made these deeds pass from the hands of Saint Remi into those of different owners not of the same family. The last of them was a M. Orceau of Fontette, superintendent of Caen, who had restored them to the King by way of exchange ; a circumstance very favourable to our claim, as the King had only to open his hand in order to restore the fortune of their father to the Saint Remis. Perhaps it might have been obtained, had the children come for- ward under other auspices, and had they succeeded in interesting some influential personage in their claims. My efforts were thankless. M. de Lamotte did not understand a single word of what I wanted of him. In his eyes a first step to success would have been a kind of triumphal entry into the places which had witnessed the extreme misery of the earlier years of his wife. He had 14 LIFE AND ADVENTUEES OF COUNT BEUGNOT. already thought fit to have a Te Beum sung there ; and on leaving the church he had scattered money among the people,— so much deducted from the twenty-five pounds intended for the expenses of his travels and researches. His wife in Paris was not any better inclined to hsten to reason. When I told her of what I had done, and what I wished to do, of the obstacles and difficulties, she shrugged her shoulders and accused me of conducting her business like an attorney. She thought the business quite a simple affair ; the lands of Essoyes, Fontette, and Verpilliferes had belonged to her ancestors, that was proved. At this day they are said to be in the hands of the King. What matters that ? One takes one's pro- perty wherever it can be found. There is nothing more to be done than to take possession, and inform M. de Lamotte how that is to be done. If I had not sense enough to find out, she would undertake it herself and forward instructions to her husband. This made me tremble with fear, for I knew she was just as capable of directing acts of foUy as her husband was of executing them. When M. de Lamotte had exhausted his means in feasts, Te DeiLvis, and donations to the people, a process which was not very long, he went back to Bar-sur-Aube to his sister's, just as far advanced in his business as if he had never gone away, but minus twenty-five pounds. He sent to Paris a hst of three or four profes- sional men residing on the spot, with whom I might communicate on certain details into Avhich a man of his cjuality could not enter. I laughed with compassion, and informed his wife that I repudiated the honour of such a correspondence. Thus ended all researches in the localities. At Paris we made more progress. I had composed a statement by no means devoid of interest. I represented MEMORIALS TO THE KING. 15 as an additional insult of fortune to the house of Valois, the fate of a branch derived from the ancient tree that had so long covered France and other states of Europe with its regal shade. My production was interspersed with such philosophical reflections as were very much the fashion at that time, and I begged of the Bourbons to pay the debts of the persons whose magnificent in- heritance they had received. I submitted my composi- tion to M. Elie de Beaumont, a celebrated advocate and man of taste, whom the bar consulted on any production that departed from the beaten paths. M. Elie de Beau- mont had the goodness to read my work, and did me the still greater kindness of pointing out some useful correc- tions. He told me it was a pity that such a matter could not be brought before the Parliament of Paris, as it would be enough to make me a name. But I did not even get the honour of being in print for my pains. The question was said to lie in the province of royal favour, and it would have been an olfence against the respect due to the King to print anything ! I made many attempts to alter the arrangement in more than one way, but never managed to take the business oat of that province where all publicity was considered a want of respect to the King. I was much raised in Madame de Lamotte's estimation by this memorial ; she thought the city was already taken by storm ; but the advocate did not share in his client's confidence. I always said that credit, powerful friends, and money were requisites for success, and all these were lacking. I nevertheless composed another memorial to the King, or rather another petition, which I endeavoured to make very short, so that it might be read to him by the persons who undertook to present it, and possibly by the King himself But alas ! Madame de Lamotte commenced her shameless intrigues with the production of my muse in her hand ! My only consola- 16 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF COUNT BEUGNOT. tion is, that at least my petition was not employed in the negotiations about the necklace. These labours took up much of my time during the summer of 1783. Madame de Lamotte continued to inhabit the Hotel de Reims, and had very good reasons for not leaving it. Her credit then had remarkably diminished, and two loans of ten pounds each that I had made her at different times had not done much to raise it. I could not invite her to dine with me at home, as I did not keep house, but once or twice a week she favoured me by accepting a dinner at the Cadran Bleu, and astonished my youthful eyes by her appetite. On other days she had recourse to my arm for a walk that always led to a cafe. She had a remarkable taste for good beer, but never in any place seemed to find any that came amiss to her. In the intervals, which were so frequent that I could not help j^erceiving that she must have made a light dinner, if she had dined at all — she ate two or three dozen biscuits ! One morning I beheld Madame de Lamotte arrive in a glow of joy ; she had obtained, by favour of Madame de Boulainvilhers, an audience of the grand almoner, the Cardinal de Rohan. The audience was appointed for noon on the next day, and she came to ask me for three things in a great hurry : my carriage, my servant to attend her, and my arm to support her. "All this," she said to me, " is indispensable, according to your principle that in this country tliere are only two good ways of begging— at the church doors, and in a carriage." I agreed, and so did not raise any difficulty on the two former heads ; but I refused my arm, because I could not present myself before the Cardinal with her in the character of her advocate, unless his Eminence had been informed of it and given his permission. This was found to be correct ; and it was agreed on, as a middle course PEOFESSIOXAL BUSINESS. 17 that I should go ^vitli her, but that she should put me down at the Prince de Soubise's garden, and come for me again when she had left the palace of the Cardinal. All was done as proposed, and the grand almoner's first interview with Madame de Lamotte lasted half-an-hour. She came out full of hope, his Eminence had promised to use his influence to support the claim of the Saint Remi family. He had read the petition to' the King twice, and could not recover from his surprise at the Court leaving the descendants of Henry H. destitute. He had touched on the point of assistance, but gently, and with delicacy, and Madame de Lamotte assured me that she had followed the advice I gave her, not to spoil this first interview by the spectacle of her degradation and mendicancy. Some days went by. I had retired into my study, and demanded from Madame de Lamotte a respite even from our walks, because I had to compose a memorial in a very important cause that was to be decided in the Session between several parishes of the Duchy of Nevers and the Duke. The feudal rights that were at least doubtful, were exercised by the agent of that nobleman with incredible harshness. For two years I had been working at the suit, and an absti\act carefully drawn was required of me, in which I was to make a kind of appeal to the Duke of Nevers himself, to his kindness of heart from the harsh behaviour of his superintendents. It is the nature of my mind to be quite absorbed in whatever I am about, and to detest interruptions. Add to this defect that of myself undertaking what I could have set others to do, and the secret will be explained of the crowd of enemies that I gratuitously made myself when I was in any high position, composed of all those with whose interruptions I had sometimes been impatient. I even acquired a reputation for laziness, when I was spending whole nights 18 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF COUNT BEUGNOT. in my office ; yet not without some reason, for while I was engaged on memorials and reports, portfolios would be lying in heaps around me. I had never appreciated the words of M. de Choiseul, " A minister's inkstand is full enough when there is sufacient to sign his name with." The origin of this defect was in the avocations of my earlier years ; for whatever may be said of it now-a-days, the education acquired by mixing in the world is necessary to those v/ho are intended to fill high posts. I brought to office my old inclination and habit of writing on any given subject, and of finishing my work with care ; thus acting as if I were earnestly pursuing my career at the bar. A real statesman disdains such habits, or at least looks down on them. I was fully absorbed in my memorial against the Duke de Nevers, when one day Madame de Lamotte came to me in a fresh outburst of rejoicing ; she had received a note from the Cardinal, asking her to go to his palace. The style was affectionate, but not forgetful of his dignity. The three things found to be so useful in the former visit were again requested ; but on that day I was not inclined to grant them. I had but little faith in the success of the affair in which I had embarked. In a word, I was inter- rupted, and as usual the occasion of the interruption was ill received. Some days elapsed before I saw her again ; meanwhile she carried her complaints to Madame de Crozat, of whom I have already had occasion to speak. She described me as a capricious person, one day all fire, the next all ice, saying even that I sometimes used her very ill; as an instance, she stated that the last time she had been to see me, I had almost turned her out of my study. Madame de Lamotte had for some time been in the habit of applying to Madame de Crozat for the small loans that were indispensable, to prevent her from being turned MADAME DE CEOZAT. 19 out of her inn, even though she could not mamtain herself in it in a manner suitable to her position. Madame de Crozat was aware of the faults of Madame de Lamotte, and feared the viciousness of her disposi- tion as much as I did, but always wound up by the same chorus, " She is so important ! who knows if we were in her place, whether we should be better than she is ? " It was arranged that I should go to dinner with Madame de Crozat on the next Sunday ; that Madame de Lamotte should be there, and that peace should be made between us under the auspices of the mistress of the house. At the Sunday dinner Madame de Lamotte was amiable to the company, and only polite to me. I thought I saw some marks of satisfaction in her expres- sion and manner ; a little hauteur could be perceived in her, and instead of waiting for me to take her home as usual at seven o'clock in the evening, she asked for a carriage and departed alone ; thence I concluded that her business had made some progress in her second visit to the Cardinal. I was foolish enough to be almost jealous, and especially curious about the details. Next day I was at her bed-side, and required an explanation. I wished to know if she had dehvered the great me- morial to the Cardinal ; if his Eminence had promised to address himself to Monsieur de Bonnaire de Forges, the superintendent at that time in charge of the pro- perty; if he would aid the request with a liberal supply from the available funds of the Grand Almoner's chest. She only gave general replies to all these particular questions : namely, that the Cardinal was an excellent man, devoted to her, and would do all that was asked of him. When I insisted on previously settling the questions that were to be put to him, I was told to be without 20 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF COUNT BEUGNOT. aioprelieusion, that business conld not be conducted with a Cardinal in the same way as with an attorney, but that all was going right. She added that she had a little afterwards obtained an interview with the Marshal de Pdchelieu, and that he, ever amiable and gallant, had given her so charming a reception that she founded many hopes on that quarter. Madame de Lamotte was thus- placed in a position between the oldest and the most awkward courtier of the age. A little advocate could scarcely find place among them ! 1 considered this the moment for my retreat; but in order to learn at once how much credit I stiU possessed, I proposed a dinner at the Cadran Bleu for the next Wednesday, and it was accepted. At' this dinner, I found Madame de Lamotte in her best spirits, but she expended them in sneers at our common acquaintance and at myself I tried in vain to bring her back to more serious considerations ; I saw that she had made up her mind to eat my dinner and to mystify me. I became angry, and threatened to leave her to her folly ; she answered quite gaily, that she wanted no more of me. I frowned, and she saw I was on the point of making my escape, so she took the trouble to explain to me that I had been very useful to her in clearing up her business, writing memorials and petitions, in doing everything, in a word, that pertained to the office of an advocate ; but she had now reached a point when she required counsels of a different nature. She wanted those who could tell her how to get at the Queen and the Comptroller-general, who would know equally well what to do, and what to avoid ; in a word, who could set a pretty little intrigue on foot, and manao'C to make it successful. Then I had to hear from her mouth and without a Avry face, that on all these points I was the most incapable of men. She had already FULFILMENT OF A PROMISE CLAIMED. 21 taken some steps without me or my advice. The position of her husband was ridiculous in the eyes of the world, and therefore an obstacle ; so she had made him leave the gendarmerie, and enter the guards of the Count d'Artois as a supernumerary. This was a kind of step- ping-stone which could be avowed, while the footing of a gendarme would not bear mention ; besides, she could now find means of having her husband brought to Versailles on duty, and at any rate he would not make so foolish an exhibition of jhimself there as in the country. She intended also to establish herself there with the view of seizing on all the means of success, and especially of interesting the Queen in her favour. This was the first occasion on which she pronounced the name of her sovereign in my presence. I agreed that there was some truth, and even some advantage, in all this, and especially praised her resolu- tion of quitting this dirty Hotel de Reims, and settling herself at Versailles ; but I entreated her to be very cautious about the people she would find around her, and to ha.ve no confidence in the professional busy-bodies seeking their fortunes in the streets of that city, and always ready both to advise and to execute whatever ought not to be done. I reserved my goodwill and zeal in her service for any occasion when she might have some lawsuit, and until then I would trouble her neither with my advice nor with what she was pleased to term my illegible scrawls. Madame de Lamotte had not forgotten these words when, less than two years afterwards, she wrote to me from the depths of the Bastille, to claim the performance of my promise, and rec^uest me to defend her in her unfortunate affair. From that time forward I ceased to pour forth my wise and very useful advice to Madame de Lamotte, or to employ Z-Z LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF COUNT BEUGNOT. myself about her business; but did not give up lier society. That very evening I took her to the Comedie Itahenne, to a performance of "Eichard Coeur-de-Lion," and we parted quietly, neither too much pleased nor dissatisfied with one another. A few days afterwards, I heard from a man of whom I hired carriages (who came to inform me of a bill for some days' hire to Madame de Lamotte, which I had guaranteed), that she had gone to Versailles ; and I felt some anxiety as to whom she got the money from. The last loan from Madame de Crozat had been as much as six weeks before. She had been discreet enough long before to cease her attacks upon my little store. By mere chance I found out that she had received a grant of a hundred pounds from the office of the Grand Almoner; which was in fact a natural and fair apportionment of part of the sum yearly provided for charitable purposes by the King. I recon- sidered the great distance between Monsieur le Cardinal de Rohan and Madame de Lamotte, and blamed myself for having so lightly suspected a close intimacy between them. When she got to VersaiUes, Madame de Lamotte fell into all the snares that I had endeavoured to warn her against; she was speedily surrounded by those palpable rogues who, driven from every honourable career, seek for intrigues, succeed in finding them, and thrive upon them as best they may. Madame de Lamotte brought a name and a misfortune into the game ; the others took the trouble to play the cards. Without any difficulty in persuading her, they made this unhappy Avoman act in the most extravagant way. Only to mention one : she one day pretended to faint away in Madame's * waitino-- room. They had provided a confederate in the house- * The Countess of Provence, wife to the King's eldest brother. THE QUEEN CAI.UMNIATED. 28 hold, wlio told tlie Princess that a lady of quality was dying of hunger in her waiting-room. Madame, in the first impulse of her pity, sent her ladies to the assistance of the lady of quality, had her petition brought to her, read it, and sent her a gift of some pounds. But when another attempt was made to reach the Princess, she suspected the trick employed to get at her the first time, and would not allow Madame de Lamotte's name to be mentioned in her presence. An attempt in equally bad taste was not more successful with the Countess d'Artois. Madame de Lamotte saw neither the one nor the other of the Princesses during her first stay at Versailles, no man in office, nor indeed any honourable person. She sowed her petitions broad-cast in the hands of those false pretenders to credit to whom no request is refused, only because they are never allowed to make one, and in a very short time she had managed to bring discredit both on herself and on her business. A painful reflection must be made here, and one which forms a key to the romance of Madame de Lamotte. The Que^n had at that time a reputation, doubtless never deserved, for lightness of conduct ; she was supposed to be in difficulties on account of the scarcity of money caused by her extravagance. Words and incidents con- nected with her were mentioned, that reduced her from the position of Queen to that of a woman in love. The latter characteristic became familiar in thought and modes of expression. The people of the Court, who permitted themselves greater liberties, excited this imagi- nation in other classes. The Queen was no longer the great lady of Versailles, standing above suspicion or curiosity. Marie Leczinska, though she attained this high rank, almost by a miracle, had maintained the dignity of it, but it seemed as if, when she died, she had carried away the model. 24 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF COUNT BEUGNOT. Before the appearance of Madame de Lamotte, there had been other intriguing women, who made experi- ments on this dangerous tendency of mind. A lady called Cahouette de Villiers, who by chance had obtained an opportunity of reaching the presence of the Queen, and obtaining some favours from her inexhaustible kindness, ended by selling much more than she dared ask for. Her sale of imaginary influence was cut short by a lettre de cachet, — but an example had been set. A little while afterwards one of the Queen's women went to Monsieur Beranger, the receiver-general, pretending she had been sent by her mistress, to ask a loan of sixteen hundred pounds. She said he had been named to the Queen as an excellent serviceable man, and in her clever deception she repeated to Monsieur Beranger expressions actually employed by Her Majesty, imitating, to give a greater appearance of truth, the slightly German accent of which the royal lady had never been able to free herself. Monsieur Beranger asked for two lines, or even one word written by the Queen ; he was told that on such terms the Queen could get millions, and more ; that there was no question of notes or writing, nor indeed of a loan, but of a momentary service for which the Queen desired to be indebted only to his confidence in her. Monsieur Beranger rehnquished his demand for her hand-writing, but required that at least the Queen should say a word, or give a sign, and humbly represented that the matter was worth so much trouble. The clever rogue com- plained of his want of confidence, seemed desirous to break off the treaty, and said the Queen would find a hundred willing to do the service, the refusal of which she ]iad secured for him with some difficulty. Monsieur Beranger finally reduced his demand to a sign, or a nod, as she went along the gallery. Madame L agreed to this, and told him to come CLEVER ROGUERY. 25 to mass next Sunday, and to sit under the third arch on the same side as the Queen, as it would thus be easier for her to give him some signal by a motion of her head, than when walking amid her suite. Madame L made up a story for the Queen of the strange head-dresses that two of the court ladies meant to wear that day at mass, adding that she intended to station herself under the third arch, to see the effect of the masquerade the better. Her Majesty declared that it was impossible. Madame L contrived that a hint should be conveyed to these ladies that the Queen would have, on next Sunday, an entirely new head-dress, which she was determined to render fashionable, and gave them the ridiculous design with which she had anuised Her Majesty. The ladies were caught in the snare, and the more absurd they thought the mode, the more eager were they to adopt it. On Sunday all the actors were at their posts. M. Beranger was under the third arch, and Madame L placed herself behind him. The Queen ap- peared. She at once observed the two ladies of the Court who had been mentioned to her. As soon as she saw the first of them she turned her eyes to the third arch, where her waiting-maid was, and smiled at her, nodding her head in assent ; when she saw the other, the gesture was repeated in a more marked manner. Poor M. Beranger took it all to himself Madame L smiled, and said to him, " You will not doubt any more ; I told the Queen you were hard of belief, and she has done it twice over to convince you." M. Beranger, without any more hesitation, charged Madame L to make his excuses to Her Majesty, and gave her the £1600, with which the swindler escaped to England that very night with her lover. These adventures wei'e known to the public before that of the necklace. They made sensible men sigh, 26 LIFE AND AUVENTUEES OF COUNT BEUGNOT. amused the thoughtless, and were a contmual source of emulation for rogues and tricksters. I often heard the last story told, but no one really expressed indignation at it. Poor M. Beranger was the victim who was every- where immolated, while Madame L • was considered a wonderfully clever woman, and was very near being held up as an example. Such were the manners of a time that I hear daily regretted by men who proclaim themselves religious and royalists par excellence. Imagine Madame de Lamotte arrived at Versailles, dying of hunger, without fixed principles of any kind ; believing herself justified in attempting anything against a social order that had robbed her of everything, and cast into those abysses of civilisation, where elegant rogues narrate, praise, and extol horrors that are merely laughed at even in good society. The education in evil of such a woman, who was already debauched, was soon to be quickly brought to perfection. Besides, she met at Versailles, and soon made friends with a man called Villette, a fellow gendarme of her husband's. This Villette was not such a fool as his brother ; indeed, a little smattering of lite- rature and the arts made him superior to his com- rades. His youthful extravagance had soon consumed his inheritance ; and the debts which he left behind him in every place did not permit him to stay long in any town ; so he migrated between Paris and Versailles, and no one could say how he lived. Subtle and insinuating by nature, the condition of the poor devil had in no respect altered his character ; it had even taught him to give a mild approval, in the most polished terms, to the dirtiest methods of getting out of a scrape, and he was always ready to make use of them. He was the Philintas of rogues. This was the wretch who forged, or thought he forged the Queen's handwriting- every time that Madame de VILLETTE. 27 Lamotte required this service of liim. After her first journey to Versailles, Madame de Lamotte raised Villette to the rank of secretary, and the notes and letters that she was supposed to dictate to him, were not devoid either of cleverness or of a certain gracefulness. 28 CHAPTER II. My Vacation in Champagne— Visit of Madame Lamotte— M. de Latour— Con- versation at Supper — Madame de Lamotte's Relations with Society— Her Plate and Jewelry— Supposed Source of Madame de Lamotte's Opulence- Portrait of the Cardinal de Rohan — His Letters to Madame de Lamotte— My Career at the Bar— M. d'Amhray— MM. Seguier, d'Aguesseau, and Joly de Fleury — Course of the Lyceum — Picture of France in 1785— Cagliostro — Credulity of Madame de Latour. I LEFT Paris to spend the vacation in Cliampagne, without having seen Madame de Lamotte again, and did not much regret it. I had had proof that it was impos- sible to keep her in the ways of wisdom and prudence, and I was quite in despair when I heard of the persons by whom she was surrounded at Versailles, and of her first dissipations. When 1 came to Bar-sur-Aube, numbers came to question me about Madame de Lamotte, but I only answered with great reserve. I gave a detailed account of her to my father alone, and made him under- stand that no one who possessed the slightest self-respect could meddle with the affairs of his protegee. My vacations passed pleasantly enough ; I returned every year to my native city with an increase of gravity. I no longer confined myself to the company at Madame de Surmont's, but consented even occasionally to under- go the weariness of a ball. I was beginning to hold in some esteem the modest and rather stern virtues there displayed, when I received a very friendly letter from Madame de Lamotte, telling me that, as she had a few leisure days at her disposal, she was coming: to spend MADAME DE LAMOTTE AT BAE-SUE-AUBE. 29 tliem at Bar-sur-Aube with lier friends. She told me quite easily, as if it were a matter of course, that she had sent on her luggage cart and led horses?, which would spend five days on the road, as she had given strict orders that they should not be hurried, and she would arrive two days later. In nearly the same terms she informed her sister-in-law that she was coming, and only oixlered some sjoecial arrangements to be made for the lodging of her- self and household. Madame de Latour hurried to my house in a state of amazement, and asked me what it meant. I said I knew no more than she did. We compared our despatches, and agreed that there was a mystery beneath it, and that of the worst kind. We both determined not to be cajoled ; she would not make any preparation to accommodate the princess or her train, and we would both say nothing about the letters we had received. But what was our surprise when we saw a well-filled baggage cart arrive on the day named, drawn by good horses, and followed by two valuable ones in hand. There could be no longer any uncertainty, nor was there any means of retreat. For the accommodation of what had arrived, and what was said to be coming, the owner of a house of some size was turned out ; and rooms were hastily prepared. A maUre-dlwtel, who arrived with the baggage cart, sent out requisitions for more victuals than would be wanted to provision the best house in the place for six months. People stared at each other as they met in the street, and wondered what would be the appendix to the " Arabian Nights," when Monsieur and Madame de Lamotte, preceded by two couriers, arrived in a very elegant open carriage, and had no sooner alighted than they sent to ask me to supper. My father, wise as he was, allowed himself to be 30 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF COUNT BEUGNOT. caught by appearances, and was inwardly pleased to find my prudence at fault. " ]\Iy son," said he, " you have the ill luck of judging very hastily, indeed, too much so. Because what you wrote for Madame de Lamotte was not valued by her, you have, as you yourself confess, treated her harshly. Perhaps I know as much about rights of property as you do, and I have never thought it impossible that she might regain the family estates. A great advance has been made, for I am told the Queen takes an interest in her. You stick to that wretched Latour, whom I never see, for he would speak evil of the Divinity Himself were He here on earth. Do not share his wickedness, and show yourself what you should never have ceased to be to Madame de Lamotte, respectful and devoted. Poor child ! ' ' said my father, in a melting moment, " when I think of the trifles of crowns that I gave to the priest of Fontette, to help to clothe her ! " M. de Latour, with whom my father had ceased to have intercourse, because nothing was too sacred for his tongue, was indeed the scourge of the country by his hon-mots and sneers. He was a man of great wit of the best style, when he liked, speaking gracefullj^, and with the remarkable power of extracting absurdity from subjects in which none but himself would have suspected its existence. It is true, that no sort of considerations deterred him. After all, he was a man of honour, incapable of a base action ; but what was not much better, always ready to indulge in mischievous talk. The fortune of his life had fixed him, I know not how, at Bar-sur-Aube, and he had made a prosperous marriage there, taking to wife the sister of M. de Lamotte. He was out of place, for Paris would have been his true sphere, where such a man would indeed have been detested, but would have been much sought after. M. DE LATOUE. 31 I was alone with him in Madame de Lamotte's house, the day she came. He accosted me with a loud laugh, in which he was determined that I should join. "Have I not excellent cause," he said, "for always declaring that Paris contains some of the most stupid people in the world? In what other country, I ask you, could this little fury and her lanky husband have managed to raise what they are coming to display to us here ? You know the lady ; besides, no one can be half an hour with her without having more than enough of her lies and low insults. As for the husband, he is a gendarme, fit enough to carry his bundle of hay from the forage store to the stable, but ask no more from him. Except your good father, the princess, with all her attractions, and the prince with his genius, would not have found anyone here to lend them a shilling, and yet in half an hour they have unpacked more plate than there is in the whole town, not excepting the chalices and altar plate. Oh Paris, the sanctuary of rogues and fools ! I salute you once more for this additional miracle." " liave done ! " I said. " After all, they are your own con- nections ; you are going to sup with them, and you know it is said that the Queen protects Madame de Lamotte?" "I am their connection, therefore the business sticks to me like pitch ; for when I have had a good laugh at this show, perhaps I shall be condemned to cry over it, and you know my natural aversion for that kind of grimace. As for their supper, however good it may be, you and I are doing them great honour by going to eat it. I cannot give you any answer on the jjoint of the Queen's protection. Between ourselves, I suspect that the spouse of our sovereign lord the King is not the most prudent woman in the world ; but I beg her pardon, she is not foolish enough to be infatuated by this sort of people. Well ! let us make the best supper we can, and 32 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF COUNT BEUGNOT. above all, do not let us seem to be the least astonished at this display. That is the best way to fill the hearts of our friends with rage." A supper was sent up that would have seemed splendid in Paris for any sort of guests. We were eight, includ- ing the hosts. Though Bar-sur-Aube was one of the ancient cities of the Gauls, never, perhaps, had such luxury been displayed within it, not even when Caesar, as it is said, did it the honour of halting in it to hang the Mayor and Town Council of the day. Latour and I were steady to our plan, ate heartily, and without noticing our fare, as if we were used to such feasts, we took pains to keep the conversation upon such matters that the most adroit talker could not introduce into it praise of what was before us. M. de Lamotte could not endure this, for he wanted to make us all admire his dinner- service, which was finely worked, and some pieces of which were of novel use. Latour declared tha't they had been known long ago, but given up as inconvenient. The nil admirari was sustained throughout. At last, Madame de Lamotte thought she would find favour in our eyes by praising a very fine fowl that had just been removed, telling us that she had given orders to have provisions sent by mail while she stayed at Bar- sur-Aube, for, to her taste, the poultry in the neighbour- hood was not fit to eat. " I beg your pardon, Madtime, but I think very differently," said Latour, seriously. " I think a country capon, as you have just now caUed it, fatted under the care, and a little by the very hands of Madame Latour, and better still of Madame de Saumont, superior to all your cockerels and pullets of Normandy, and Le Mans ; for their flesh is soft, insipid, and distasteful ; but after the capon has been reared in a good place, he must be well roasted, and for this purpose, I do not think much of the jack, but much prefer CONVERSATION WITH MADAME DE LAMOTTE. 33 to have tlie spit turned by one of the Kttle boys of the family, or a stranger, or even by a clog." Madame de Lamotte lost patience on hearing the honours of her husband's relatives thus displayed before four great scamps they had brought from Paris, in liveries, laced all over. "Sir," said she to Latour, in a spiteful tone, " I am edified by your preference, it is a rustic taste, and you drive it too far." "I entirely agree," replied Latour, "country taste, or family taste, come much the same. You know, Madame, that I take as little account of one as the other." The supper was shortened by this conversation. Latour quietly asked me, " How do you think I have paid my scot?" "You have been almost vulgarly literal." " No, but I was determined to put down either husband or wife, if they should have the impudence to hold up anything to my admiration. The masquerade that has begun to-night is a sort of triumph to those people, and mine is the post of the soldier who used to cast wholesome truths at the hero of the triumphal procession." Madame de Lamotte made me come iuto her room, and complained of the insulting tone of her husband's brother-in-law. She told me that her luck had changed, that she was now in a fortunate position, both for herself and her friends, and it would be as well for all of us to adopt another tone towards her. She let fall a little about very high acquaintance whom she possessed at Versailles, and ended by telling me that she hardly knew whether she could give us the fortnight she had promised. I gave her a specimen of the different tone she had desired to see adopted, by not allowing myself to question her on any point ; I only promised to endeavour to prevail on her brother-in-law to be more reserved, but I did not expect much success. 34 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF COUNT BEUGNOT. Two days after, she paid a round of visits, dressed with such taste as excessive ostentation could sug- gest, and sparkling with diamonds. Except for this absurdit}', she made herself agreeable everywhere, and displayed familiarity with the nobility. Great and small were enchanted, and her visits were punctually returned, but when she wished to go a step farther and give some little entertainments, the respectable ladies of the town excused themselves under different pretexts, and Madame de Lamotte was reduced to young men, and to the ladies of her husband's family ; so perfect was the respect for morality, at this^time, in a little country town. These good ladies said to me, " Madame de Lamotte is charm- ing, and we love her from the bottom of our hearts, hut Avhy should you wish us to give our daughters notions they ought not to have, and perhaps, awake in their minds, desires that can never be gratified?" I was perfectly respectful and discreet with Madame de Lamotte. She seemed to have quite forgotten the terms on which we liad formerly been, and I was well content to do so. I liad assumed the position of a civil man to whom she could talk. So, she told me the secret mortifications she experienced in her stay at Bar-sur-Aube, and spoke of the miserable tone of her husband's family. I consoled her as well as I could, showing her that, in her position, it was an anomally for her to stay in a little country town, tluit she ought to have an hotel at Paris, and a mansion in the country. She told me she would not buy any land, for she was going immediately to resume her family estates, and thought of building there. The hotel at Paris was a matter of course, but she wanted another at Bar-sur-Aube, and would pass the summer tliere, while the mansion she proposed was being built. I took the liberty of opposing the project of buying a house at Bar-sur-Aube, and asserted it was fashionable TESTIilONY OF GKATITUDE. :]?> to live in a cottage, Avlnle biiilding a mansion by its side. But ]\Iadame de Lamotte, who had ah-eady had some good lessons on this head, persisted in the ordinary weakness of displaying her magnificence in places that had seen her poverty. In spite of me, she bought a house at Bar- sur-Aube, paid twice as much for it as it was worth, and gave it over to architects, who set to work at once to perpetrate all the follies that the site was capable of, and perhaps a little more. I observed, with much surprise, that IMadame de Lamotte had learned the art of keeping within bounds in her dealings with society. She paid to others all that they could expect, and seemed not to be exacting on her own account. She gave alms, and paid her del its regu- larly. One morning she paid a friendly visit to my father, and brought him back, as I have mentioned, the fifty pounds he had lent her eigliteen months before, and wdien she went away left a gold box on the chimney- piece. My father, I do not know why, took this testi- mony of gratitude for an insult, and returned the box. Madame de Lamotte who might have more justly taken offence at its return, did not do so, and pressed me to take back her little present, and to persuade my father to hear reason. As I knew that this, in some cases, was not easy, I would not accept the commission. Despair- ing of success, she tried to make me accept the unhappy snuff-box for myself; and I had again to refuse, in order not to do anything so unbecoming as^to accept a present refused by my father : besides that he would never have forgiven me. The period of this stay at Bar-sur-Aube passed quietly enough, and towards the end of it people were sorry they could not venture to visit Madame de Lamotte. M. de Latour alone would not be persuaded. Yet I begged him to remark the notable change that the 3G LIFE AND ADVENTUKES OF COUNT BEUGNOT. possession of wealth, however sudden, had produced in the tone, and even in the conduct of M. and Madame de Lamotte. He repUed, " I half agree with you, the lady is an adventuress, who has gained some depth, while the husband has lost ; he went away a fool, and has returned an idiot, but I shall continue to think ill of them, and, indeed, to speak ill of them, so long as they do not avow by what honest means they have gained, in four months, what they are so foolishly lavishing • and, you yourself, — who are acting the part of Philintas in this comedy, — whom could you convince that the King and Queen, the Comte d'Artois, the Comptroller-general, and all sorts of other grandees have given heaps of gold to i^eople who were begging even for bread ? I know these times are full of extravagance, but not altogether of that kind. Little whispers have come to mine ears, that Madame was in favour with the Queen. I have been keeping a Avatch over them for a fortnight ; and if one word betraying it had been let slip in my presence, I had a nice story ready of the Countess de Gayon and the Queen of Congo, and should have made every one present burst with laughter at their expense. My dear friend, all this is too unreasonable, considering every- thing, and one should really be ashamed at being so easily taken in. Accept it all if you please ; for my part, I will not. I hold to what I know. Now I do know, and from you, that Madame is intimate with the Cardinal de Rohan, since she was carried five or six times at your expense to his Eminence's palace. Probably she went thither afterwards on her own nimble feet. Of all the said lady's acquaintances, the Cardinal de Rohan is the only one to whom prodigality is not impossible. One of two things, therefore, must have happened, either that he has provided them with all that we see, or, that they have stolen it from him. I am willing to give up the second SOURCE OF MADAJIE DE LAMOTTE's WEALTH. 37 liorn of my dilemma if you will allow me the first ; and even then I cannot understand, without great difficulty, how a little village rogue could captivate a prince, a prelate, and a rascal of such consequence." I certainly felt that there was some truth in the severe conclusions of ^[. de Latour, and took refuge in the common-places of moderation. " I do not judge as yet, I am willing to wait. Yesterday, I blamed what was bad, why not heartily applaud to-day what I think is good ? " Madame de Lamotte at this time possessed a magni- ficent set of diamonds, and another of topazes. She had gown pieces of Lyons embroidery, that she seemed to have bought in order to show off, and they were worth the trouble. Her service of plate was complete and in a new style. M. Target was mistaken in placing all this magnificence after the necklace was stolen, and as a con- sequence of the theft ; it existed nine months sooner. No doubt it came from two grants of 2,400/. each, given to Madame de Lamotte on the funds of the Grand Almoner's office, and a sum of 1,200/. assigned on the Cardinal's private fortune. With this G,000/. she had managed to obtain twice its value in more or less valuable moveable ■effects, and had not failed to make use of it for that purpose. Then she had treated herself to the frivolous pleasure of coming to display her riches at Bar-sur-Aube ; but after having by my advice asked alms in a carriage, and with good success, it was necessary to take a higher line still, and she was obliged to assume the appearance of having riches at her disposal, in order to inspire con- fidence in the imaginary reputation she was about to claim. I saw Madame de Lamotte the day before she went away ; she seemed well satisfied with the stay she had made at Bar-sur-Aube, and rejoiced as much in the kind reception the inhabitants had given her as if this had not 38 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF COUNT BEUGNOT. been iraaginary. She seemed to remember, as if by chance, that she owed me some money. I myself had forgotten it, and did not fancy that her memory could contain the remembrance of such a slight matter. She carelessly gave me a rouleau of 1,200 francs. I observed to her that I could not tell her exactly what she owed me, but it was certainly not so much as 60^. She said " Take it all the same, if there is too much you can give it to your motlier for her poor people." Having cast up the account, I sent 201. to my mother, and she was delighted, and never ceased to stand up for the innocence of Madame de Lamotte, even after her condemnation. And when the poor creature, after her escape from the Salpetriere, came to hide in the quarries near the town, my mother was bold enough to go and visit her there at night, and faithfully returned to her, in the name of religion, the alms she had given to her for the wretched hi the time of her prosperity. She added to the sum, and did yet more by awakenhig self-respect in the poor branded creature, by bringing her perfect virtue in contact with her. Madame de Lamotte returned to Paris in the end of November. I did not myself go thither till the middle of next January. I was beginning to become used to a permanent residence in the country, and took more in- terest in local affairs. People took notice of this, and I was better received on all sides, being considered as a man that it was considered advantageous to live on good terms with. My conduct, while Madame de Lamotte was tliere, had been appreciated. People did me the justice to see that I had neither been one of the ridiculous admirers of her and her fortune, nor one of the greater number who despised her. All the wise ones agreed with me in saying that we must wait and hope that all this vould last. MADAME DE LAMOTTE S PLAXS. 39 AVhen I got back to Paris, I was confirmed in my opinion that jMadame do Lamotte's wealth was derived from lier intimate connection with the Cardinal de Rohan, and I regulated my conduct towards her upon that sur- mise. I only visited her occasionally. I never went to dine with her without an invitation. I put her at her ease by making a show of treating her with respect. However, she made occasional reference to her plans before me, with that carelessness which indicates assur- ance of success. She was going to take her brother out of the navy, an unpleasant and tedious service in time of peace ; she had bought a half-pay Captaincy for her husband, in order to give him the title, and was going to see if she could get him made a Colonel on the retired list ; as for her sister, she had no notion of her following her own example, and making a foolish marriage. She should be, if she did not object to it, a Canoness at Douxi(ires or Poulangy, since all the places at Remire- mont were filled up for ten years to come. " Had I," she said, " married a man of some name, and about the Court, as I could so easily have done, my advance would have been more speedy ; but my husband is more of an obstacle than an assistance to me. In order to gain any real advantage, I must put my name before his, and that is quite contrary to etiquette." By these and some other remarks, I saw that she had made progress in the Cardinal's society, and began to speak a language which she learned there. She had sometimes invited me to dinner, and I always went in black, with my hair down, and tliis mark of respect was pleasing to her. She never failed to in- troduce me as a young magistrate, and gave me prece- dence next to persons of title. The tone of the house was, at least in those days, that of good society. There I met the Marquis of Saisseval, a great gamester, rich, 40 LIFE AND ADVENTUEES OF COUNT BEUGKOT. and attaclied to tlie Court ; the Abbe de Cambres, coun- sellor in Parliament ; Rouille d'Orfeuil, superintendent of Champagne ; Count d'Estaing, a receiver-general ; and Lecoulteux de La Noraye, who aspired to the post of director of her affairs and finances. I recall these particulars, because they correct one of the mistakes the defenders of the Cardinal have fallen into. They have represented Madame de Lamotte as a despicable adventuress, "without recollecting that they thereby proclaimed the Cardinal to be a fool ; and he certainly was not that. Now this was the real state of things. Madame de Lamotte, as I have said, had natural abilities, a rare capacity for intrigue, and personal beauty enough to make her liked. As soon as the Cardinal be- came acquainted with her, he took the sort of interest in her that could not be refused by a man of his rank to one of the last remains of a noble family. It was after serving her apprenticeship at Versailles, that she began the romance of her life, and managed it with great skill. She quickly disseminated the story of her having mysterious communication with the Queen. This penetrated to the Cardinal, who had been prepared to believe in it by former instances of a similar cha- racter ; and this portion of her story was supported by such an assumption of discretion and reserve as might impose on any one. At this time, I, and others like myself, were kept at a distance, as were also any persons who found it too burthensome to be respectful to her. The sentiment with which M. le Cardinal had regarded Madame de Lamotte, from his first interviews with her, was stimulated by these revelations, and the reports which this woman disseminated soon became of so much interest to him, that at last he liad no doubt of their CARDINAL DE EOHAN. 41 truth. His position at Court must also be borne in mind. In the eyes of Marie Antoinette, he had been guilty of the irreparable guilt of having, during his embassy to A'ienna, depicted the Archduchess, then destined to occupy the throne of France, in colours only too faithful. This act of honesty had been the misfortune of his life. The King, as was often the case, put up with him, although he had little esteem for him, or for other pre- lates whose morals were doubtful. So the Cardinal de Eohan was the man of all unlucky courtiers, whom his position rendered most unfortunate. He never ceased to suffer from it, but he expected to become reconciled to his Queen through the good offices of IMadame de Lamotte, and to gain whatever a man could want, who was already nothing more than a Prince of the house of Rohan, Cardinal, Grand Almoner of France, Commander of the Order of the Saint Esprit, Bishop of Strasburg, Sove- reign Prince of Hildesheim, Abbot of Noirmoutiers and Saint Vaast, Provost of the Sorbonne, &c., Mem- ber of the Academies, and the darling of all the great ladies of Paris ; besides being owner of revenues of the church, to the amount of some thirty or thirty-five thou- sands a year, and as was naturtil, deeply in debt. Just at the time when his relations with Madame de Lamotte became more intimate, he was in a state of em- barrassment, between a most ardent ambition and a very tender affection. Each of these feelings reacted so as to increase the other, and the unlucky man was almost out of his senses. By an opportunity that I will relate, I was able to e:lance over some letters he wrote at that time to Madame de Lamotte ; they were all fire ; the con- test, or rather the surge, of the two passions was terrific. It is fortunate for the prince's memory, that these letters have been burnt, but it is a loss to the history of the 43 LIFE AND ADYENTUEES OP COUNT BEUGNOT. human heart. They would have brought to hght another recess in that abyss. ' At the time I speak of, the Cardinal had gone no further than granting unlimited amounts of subsidies to Madame de Lamotte from the Grand Al- moner's chest, and some large sums from his private means. She might have extracted much more, the time for refusal being far enough off; but the splendid swindle of the necklace was soon to be attempted, and the approaches were so prepared as to assure success, notwithstanding the most gross improbabilities. The cardinal was ready to believe anything, being incapable of sound judgment. Such is a portion of the knowledge requisite, in order to approach towards the truth of this extraordinary busi- ness. It often, however, seems as if writers thought them- selves bound to represent Madame de Lamotte as nothing- more than a vulgar adventuress who plans a robbery one day, and executes it the next. Besides, the business of the necklace has become an enigma to which every one seeks to find a clue, according to the bent of his own passions, and on which he makes comments, whether true or false ; and innocence, though seated on a throne, has been made the butt of the most rashly absurd judgments. As before mentioned, I had left Madame de La- motte in the midst of her ambitious intrigues, and resumed my studies at Paris, Avitli my former friendships. I was not so mucli engaged in business as if I had followed the legal profession in order to make a fortune ; but I was always retained for suits in which I had been previously employed. I was fortunate enough to argue two causes at the afternoon sitting, and with some success. I prepared also some written pleadings, attended discussions in the hbrary, and followed a course of lec- tures on Canon Law, delivered by a certain Abbe Berthier. I then first had the advantage of making the acquain- tance of M. d'Ambray, at that time Solicitor-General M. D AMBEAY. 43 to the Court of Exchequer, the prince of rising orators and the richest hope of the legal profession in France. M. d'Ambray found nothing to employ him at the Ex- chequer, except matters naturally dry ; but to a just and penetrating mind he added a power of oratory most bril- liant, and at the same time most easy ; and infused such a charm into everything that he touched, that we used to hasten from attendance in the higher court, where causes of the greatest importance were being argued by the most fluent advocates, in order to crowd the Court of Exchequer, whenever we expected to hear the youngest Sohcitor-General of the time. M. d'Ambray was a magistrate even in the bosom of his family. His strict morality, his respect for, and his practice of, its duties, was overlaid by a kindly gaiety, and he was regarded as an example as much for his virtues as for his talents. The great inheritance of the glory of d'Aguesseau was predicted for him. He had two comrades at the Exchequer, who had been created expressly to serve as foils to this splendid example of the rising sun. One was M. Clement de Barville, an extreme Jansenist, and no less common-place than all the race of Clement. The other was a M. Darfort de Roch- fort, who at last got made superintendent of Brittany through the interposition of the first president de Barintiu when he became- keeper of the seals. Tie still lives sotnewhere in a post given to him by M. d'Ambray in his turn ; a most singular specimen of the old order of things. His relations declare that he has lost none of his ability: they should be believed, and even still he may be cited as an example of the omissions of nature in her distribution of human intellect. The floor of the Parliament was then occupied by MM. Seguier, d'Agues- seau, and Joly de Fleury, three illustrious names ! I did not share in the admiration then felt in the profession for 4-1 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF COUNT BEUGNOT. M. Seguier. His exterior was unfortunate for an orator. He was short in stature and unpleasantly fat, and had a nasal tone of voice, and a wety of poising himself carelessly on his legs when he spoke, but T admit that these defects were concealed by some inexplicable dash of genius of which his language and gestures both partook. He was praised for his knowledge and strength of judgment; others went further and claimed him as the most recent model of a good style of oratory, and quoted his three speeches at the Beds of Justice, in 1771. These speeches produced a prodigious effect at that time, and justly so ; but in reading them again at the present time, they seem to be more in the character of a courageous magistrate than of a good orator ; perhaps he is a Cato — certainly not a Cicero. M. Seguier had returned to the hall surrounded with the halo he had made his own in the days of danger. The reputation gained by his conduct was so great that it was extended rather too freely to his talents. Men discovered a wise development of old principles, opposed to the turbulence of new opinions, in the various presentments against the ever-renewed productions of philosophy con- tained in his principal pleadings, and especially in his refutation of the memorial of Dupatty in the affair of the rogues of Chaumont. He was a laborious champion of the good old cause, but not a brilliant one. His blows are very seldom startling, and never carry one away. Like M. d'Ambray at the Exchequer, M. Seguier had two poor colleagues at his side in the session ; the first, M. d'Aguesseau, grandson to the Chancellor, a handsome young man, very insipid, very well curled, who delivered in schoolboy fashion, the pleadings that the advocate Blondcl prepared for him indifferently well. This was so well known in the hall that if the solicitor-general had made use of any ridiculous arguments Blondel was M. D AGUESSEAU. 45 blamed for them. He defended himself as best he could, but without venturing to say that ]M. d'Aguesseau had any share in the matter, as that would have been a mere joke. I was present at the commencement of a session at a very remarkable suit for abduction, between the English family of Hamdton as plaintiffs, and a ]\I. Beresford as defendant. The circumstances detailed composed a most interesting romance, and the affair was the more complicated by the circumstance that the 2:)laintiff and the defendant were both foreigners. I\I. d'Aguesseau had to speak in it, and we used to say that the retainer had been given two generations too late for the name he bore. Any- how Blondel did his best, obtained assistance, and the pleading was considered fair enough. The exordium particularly struck us by its chaste style and thoughts, beyond the range of those in common circulation in the hall. The solicitor-general, for instance, appealed to Richardson, wdiose mind could not have created a more astonishing fiction than the real event that had to be tried before session. The young advocates had but one opinion about the exordium. When the court rose, Blondel was placed in the witness-box, and allowed that the preface came from Laharpe, who in his turn corrected the memorials of Legouvo and Elie de Beaumont, and composed aca- demical discourses for advocates who could not do it for themselves. The other colleague of M. Seguier was that M. Joly de Fleury whom we afterwards saw in the post of attorney-general. He brought into the Palais de Justice the most perfect, and at the same time most ob- jectionable mediocrity ever seen, and thus to him, much better than to his uncle, would have applied the explana- tion that Voltaire gave of the names Omer Joly de Fleury, which the latter also bore. He is not Homer to read, not jolly to look at, nor flowery in speech. At the 46 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF COUNT BEUGNOT. present day it is hard to understand liow sucli a man could get into one of the most important offices of state, that of attorney-general to the Parliament of Paris. The state of things at that time must be remembered. The family of Joly had been long known in the profession ; a member of it had held the office of attorney-general at the same time as d'Aguesseau, and was very nearly his equal. From that time the family had had a firm footing before the council, and on the higher benches of parliament. Its nrembers had contracted honourable alliances, and Avhen they all united their influence to get a place in the same career transferred from father to son, or from uncle to nephew, the minister was not powerful enough to resist them, even in the interest of the state or the King. The first families of the Parliament of Paris made a sort of oligarchy, that was often very embarrassing to the minister, because he could neither grant them a favour nor inflict a penalty on them. I steadfastly pursued the course at the Lyceum. I had been one of its founders, and was obliged, together witli some of my friends, at certain times, to labour at a periodical work in which the suliject which had occupied each course was reproduced, leaving as much as possible to each professor his own style and manner. This w^ork proved unsuccessful, because each professor wanted to keep his lecture untouched, that lie might avail himself of it at a future time, as they really did. And I remem- l)er a rather exciting scene we had with Laharpe, when Ave wished to suppress some bitter language about reli- gion which he would introduce without reason and with- out excuse into his excellent literary lectures. It was not because we were in the least opposed to the philosophy of the 18th century, very far from it; but we passed half our lives in the Palais, where the old doctrines were daily preached, and where we werp hrnno-li+ in+A rlr^T^+.^r.f CONDITION OF FliANCE. 47 witli magistrates, some of whom were sincerely religious, and others at least made such a profession before us. Thus our manners insensibly acquired a grave tone, and an appearance at least of external respect for anything worthy of general deference. The Academy, or rather the philosophers' party, acted in a very different manner. To attack Vinfame was quite the order of the day ; irre- ligious maxims were to be found everywhere,- — in works of natural history, of geometry, and of medicine, in travels, in university lectures, and almost in sermons. Laharpe was the leader of this party ; the patriarch of Ferney had selected him as his favourite disciple, and he justified his selection by an excess of vigour, gall, and insolence. He so deeply repented of his faults that they may be recalled without shaking the reputation of sanctity that illuminated his decline. What a strange spectacle did France then present ! As long as the American war lasted, the issue of that contest had kept the minds of men in suspense, and every sentiment was merged in real patriotism. Peace was concluded, and not ingloriously. The object for which war had been undertaken was accomplished at last. We had gained in it some unimportant colonies ; and, what was of much more consequence, we had ascertained that, by enlisting Spain under our banner, we could make head against England. The disgrace of the treaty of Paris was efhiced ; the present seemed certain, and the future only presented itself under smiling colours. Our ports and markets were abundantly supplied. The wealth of Europe flowed into Paris, and it seemed as if the gifts of heaven crowned, as a natural consequence, the suc- cess of our policy; the harvests of all kinds, of the years 1784 and 1785, were admirable. Liberty had made its appearance in France without any invitation. It was known that lettres de cacliet, 48 LIFE AND ADVENTUEES OF COUNT EEUGNOT. formerly so much dreaded, were iio longer permitted except to assist certain unfortunate families. Men wrote, spoke, and argued about all sorts of things. The clergy, always assisted the government, never placed themselves in opposition to it, and took the lead in the practice of toleration. Parliaments lagged a little behind, like fathers who said to their children, " Use, but do not abuse." The Court erred in being too frivolous, but that defect applied only to our recollections of it, for in its present aspect it appeared more attractive in the eyes of both town and country. An air of contentment animated our places of meeting, our assemblies, and family circles with new charms ; an odour of public felicity seemed to be dis- seminated throughout tlie beautiful country of France. But we soon became tired of this happiness ; novelty was requisite at any price, and minds seemed to be seized with universal giddiness ; the people ran to that mes- meric goblet around which so many who were in good health learned to consider themselves sick, and the dying- were confident in the faith that they were cured. Marat, who was then only a professor of physics, made a crusade against the sun, declaring that it was not the fountain of light ; and found persons senseless enough to listen to, and even to commend him. The court and city abandoned the master-pieces of the French stage, and unworthily bestowed their applause in unworthy bootlis already too base for the populace. Charlatans of all kinds found followers. At Strasburg was a Cagliostro, born in the mines of Memphis, brought up in the bosom of tlie Pyramids ; he had the gift of miracles, he cured the sick, he sowed gold and benefits on the bosom of poverty and misfortune, and no one could discover whence he obtained this gold or this power. He displayed valuable diamonds, and attached no value to them. Possessor of the grand succedaneum, he hesitates in his choice of the mortal STOCKJOBBING. 49 with whom he would share this immense secret ! And there was a prince of the church, a Cardinal de Rohan, at the feet of the knave begging to be selected! At Paris there was a fellow named Bliton, who clearly per- ceived springs of water a hundred feet underground, and even like a new Moses, made them spring forth at the will of his magic hazel wand. In society, men of weight, and persons about the Court, were heard stating that they had been eye-witnesses of all these miracles. The Comptroller-General committed the error, or rather introduced the novelty, of making the bonds of the loan of 1783 negotiable by a simple transfer, and with this impulsion stock-jobbing made unheard-of progress. Then these loan -bonds appeared in the public market, backed by securities of the Indian Company, by the shares of the Water Companies of Paris, with shares of discount banks, stock of a Geneva loan, foreign paper, &c., &c. Stock- jobbing found at its birth adepts who could have shown a trick to those of the present day, and even the govern- ment was reduced to tremble before this modern Moloch. At the same time Montgolfier produced the curious and useless invention of balloons, and all heads were up in the air ; there was no doubt what would be their next direction. In the meantime there was a rivalry among men for the honour of breaking their necks ; and the example of some maniacs who succeeded in doing so was not enough to deter others. Yet the youth of the Court were tired of being merely Frenchmen ; they flocked to the field-days at Potsdam for the chance of kissing the boot of Frederic the Great during his lifetime. They were transformed by the touch of that relic, and re- turned to Paris Prussians from head to foot. They dreamed of nothing but file-marching, blows of the cane, long pigtails, and light infantry, as in the system of the great Frederic, and in all good faith undertook to make 50 LIFE AND ADVENTUEES OF COUNT EEUGNOT. French soldiers submit to a system appropriately forced oil German automatons. So we became extravagant from satiety of enjoyment. Minds were soon to be so goaded and Awenclied in such contrary directions that the old social ties would not be sufScient to restrain them, but such bonds would be violently burst asunder, and the revolution would set in. As soon as I heard of the arrival of Gagliostro at Paris, and that he had gone to the Cardinal's palace, I had no doubt that some connexion would soon be established between him and ]\Iadame de Lamotte, and I hoped she would procure me the pleasure of supping with so curious a personage. She made a great fuss about it. The Count de Cagliostro had given out that he would not be the guest of any one, or he would have been besieged with invitations from the Court and the city ; he had already given absolute refusals on this point to the Count d'Artois and the Duke de Chartres, and had declared that he would not go to anyone. At the Cardinal's palace, he would not even have his meals with his Eminence, but had them sent up to his own rooms. I returned to the charge without more success. Sometime after Madame de Latour, driven to extremity by some of her husband's malicious witticisms, had separated from him, and come to take up her abode at Paris with Madame de Lamotte, accompanied by her daughter, a young beauty of fifteen, remarkably fair and slender, the very person who was soon written down in Cagliostro' s conjuring book to act the part of little innocence. I learned from these ladies that Madame de Lamotte and Cagliostro were hand-and- glove, and that he used to come to supper with her. So I complained to them bitterly of Madame de Lamotte's refusal to bring me into his company, and added some more complaints of some unfriendly proceedings of CAGLIOSTKO. 51 that lady, saying tliat I had resolved not to expose myself any more to her refusals and insults. This threat did not fail to succeed. A few days later I received a note from Madame de Lamotte in which she accused me of injustice, and yet invited me to supper two days afterwards, telling me I had better arrive before ten o'clock. I was there at the time fixed. Madame de Lamotte wanted to warn me that she must disarm the suspicion of the Count de Cagliostro, as he would not stay to supper on any account if he suspected that any one had been invited to meet him. Besides she begged me not to ask him any questions, not to in- terrupt him, and readily to answer any questions he might address to me. I assented to these conditions, and would have borne much harder ones in order to satisfy my curio- sity. At half-past ten Count Cagliostro was announced, and both leaves of the door were flung open. Madame de Lamotte hastily quitted her chair, sprang to meet him, and conducted him to a corner of the room, where she seemed to demand forgiveness for my presence. Cag- liostro advanced and bowed without appearing in the least embarrassed at seeing a stranger. Cagliostro seemed moulded for the express purpose of playing Signer Tulipano at the Italian Theatre ; he was of a medium height, rather stout, with an olive com- plexion, a very short neck, round face, two large eyes on a level with the cheeks, and a broad turned-up nose. I never saw any one so like him as Andre of the Consti- tutional Assembly, who died not long ago director of the forests on the Civil List, with this difterence, that Andre had designedly degraded himself to the appearance and manners of a clown, while Cagliostro, also by design, had prepared his whole exterior to appear as a charlatan. His hair was dressed in a way new to France, being divided into several small tresses that united behind the B 2 52 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF COUNT BEUGNOT. head, and were twisted up into what was then called a club. He wore on that day an iron-grey coat of French make^ with gold lace, a scarlet waistcoat trimmed with broad Spanish lace, red breeches, his sword looped to the skirt of his coat, and a laced hat with a white feather, the latter a decoration still required of mountebanks, tooth- drawers, and other medical practitioners who proclaimed and retailed their drugs in the open air. Cagliostro set off this costume by lace ruffles, several valuable rings, and shoe-buckles, which were, it is true, of antique design, but bright enough to be taken for real diamonds. There was no one at supper but the members of the family, amon£r wnom I include a certain Father Loth, a Minim friar from the Palais Royal, who managed in some way to make his frock agree with the j^ost of sub-secretary to Madame de Lamotte. He said mass to her on Sunday, and for the rest of the week performed such commissioDS at the Cardinal's palace as the first secretary, Villette, considered beneath his dignity. Nor was a certain Chevalier de Montbruel considered as a stransjer. He was a veteran of the green-room, but still a good speaker, always ready to affirm anything, who always chanced to be wherever Cagliostro was, bore witness to the miracles he had worked, and offered himself as an example cured of — I do not know how many maladies, with names enough to frighten one. So we were nine or ten at table. Madame de Lamotte was between Cagliostro and Montbruel, and I was beside Madame Latour, opposite to the former. I could only look at him furtively, and did not yet know what to think. The face, the attire, and the whole man made an impression on me that I could not prevent. I listened to the talk. He spoke some sort of medley, half French' half Italian, and made many quotations which might be Arabic, but which he did not CAGLIOSTEOS CONVERSATION. 58 trouble himself to translate. He alone spoke, and had time to run over twenty subjects, for he only allowed them to be discussed as far as he liked. He never failed continually to ask if he were understood, and the company bowed all round to assure him that he was. When he began on any subject he seemed carried away by it, and spoke impressively with voice and gesture ; bat all at once came down from it to pay very tender compliments and odd civilities to the mistress of the house ; the same performance continuing throughout the supper. I could not remember any more of it than that the hero had spoken of heaven, of the stars, of the Great Secret, of Memphis, of the high-priest, of tran- scendental chemistry, of giants and monstrous beasts, of a city ten times as large as Paris, in the middle of Africa, where he had correspondents ; how ignorant we were of all these charming things that he had at his fingers' ends ; and that he had mingled in his discourse curious inane compliments to Madame de Lamotte, whom he caUed his hind, his gazelle, his swan, his dove, borrowing his appellations from the most amiable of the animal kingdom. After supper he did me the honour to address to me a number of questions in succession. I answered them all by the most respectful avowals of my ignorance, and afterwards learnt from Madame de Lamotte that he had conceived a most favourable idea of my appearance and learning. I was determined to return home alone and on foot. It was one of those nights in spring when the moon seems to put itself in harmony with the first moments of awakening nature by a still softer light than usual. The city was as lonely and silent as it is in fen-land after mid- night. I stopped at the Place Poyale, for I could not but meditate on the spectacle lately before my eyes. I pitied poor humanity, as I reflected that the powerful of the 54 LIFE AND ADVENTUEES OF COUNT BEUGNOT. earth broke out into tlae most extravagant absurdities in consequence of the satiety whicli social order had im- posed on them from the cradle. I thought of the unfortunate Cardinal de Rohan between Cagliostro and Madame de Lamotte, who I clearly saw were already in league to drag him to ruin. And was my own curiosity really innocent ? What was I about in this gilded cavern, inhabited by beings whom I despised, and ought to have abhorred ? I recalled my earlier years, passed so quietly under my father's roof, those spent at college in the study of learning and virtue, and again the time when I was seduced into such errors as might leave regrets, but not remorse. I blamed myself for being weak, and resolved, quietly but effectually, to separate myself from Madame de Lamotte and her crew. Cagliostro, before whom I had not opened my lips, had considered me a very learned man. The ladies had confirmed an opinion so favourable to me, and the next week I received a pressing invitation to supper from Madame de Lamotte. I could not doubt that this was for a second meeting with Cagliostro. I had had enough of the first and refused, giving a polite excuse. Madame Latour, whom I met at the house of Madame de Crozat, accused me of being very odd. " You were all on fire," she said to me, "to know the Count de Cagliostro ; a week later you will not come and meet him at supper." " That," said I, " is easily explained. If the Count de Cagliostro is in my eyes no more than a man of peculiar species, curious to see for once, but very wearisome the second time, why should I be bored with him? Allow me to reserve your sister's kindness for a better occasion." " But indeed I cannot conceive how you think so ill of the Count de Cagliostro ; lie is an extraordinary man ; you do not know what he can do." "No, but I suspect a little, and do not wish CLAIRVOYANCE. 55 to see." " Sir, you are getting as bad as M. de Latour." " Madame, I do not know if your husband be pleasant or otherwise with ladies, but I ought not to hear it from you." The lady left me in anger, and I was well satisfied that I had already come to a rupture with her. I do not know the foundation of the credulity of Madame de Latour, nor of her hopes and dreams. One of the tricks of Cagliostro was to make known at Paris an event occurring at the moment at Vienna, at London, or Pekin ; or that would take place in six days, six months, six years, or twenty years from the moment. But this required an apparatus which consisted of a glass globe full of clear water, and placed on a table. The table was covered with a cloth, the ground of which was black, and cabalistic signs of the highest Rosicrucian order were embroidered on it in red. On the table, and around the gloI)e, were placed different emblems at distances carefully arranged. Among them were little Egyptian figures, antique phials of lustral water, and even a crucifix, but different from that which Christians adore. The apparatus ))eing all ready, a clairvoyante was to kneel before the glass globe — that is to say, a young person was to observe the scenes of which the globe should offer a representation, and to relate them ; but a clairvoyante was hard to find, for more than one condition was required. The young- person must be of a purity unequalled, except by the angels ; she was to be born under a given constellation, have delicate nerves, great susceptibility, and blue eyes. By unspeakable good luck. Mademoiselle de Latour, niece of Madame de Lamotte, having been examined by Cagliostro, was stated to fulfil all the conditions of a clairvoyante, and was declared to be one. The mother nearly died of joy, and thought that the treasures of 56 LIFE AND ADVENTUEES OF COUNT BEUGNOT. Memphis, and of the great city in the interior of Africa, were going to fall to her family, who were prodigiously in want of them ! The invocation commenced Avith the young innocent or clairvoyante kneeling, with eyes fixed on the globe filled with water. He who presided at this awful mystery must be an affiliated member of an order of men who have preserved the Great Secret from the time of the origin of all things. It had been only partially revealed here and there to the magi, to the Egyptian priesthood, to the high-priests, to magicians, to Templars, to the Eosicrucians. The practitioner summoned the genii by a concurrence of emblems and cabalistic words, requiring them to enter into the globe, and there to represent unknown past events, or future, that were to be revealed. It seems that this game is not at all amusing to the spirits, and among them are some obstinate indi- viduals who do not care to insert themselves into a glass globe fidl of water, and place themselves under a magi- cian's orders, and even some are so violent as to contend with him vigorously. Sometimes the performer has to use the most violent exertion for whole hours together in endeavouring to overcome the resistance of the spirits, and even then never obtains his object. In this case he declares that he has exhausted his learning and power, and the affair is put off to another day. If on the other hand the spirits are conquered, they crowd into the glass globe, the water in it is agitated and clouded, the clairvoyante falls into convulsions, cries out that she sees and is going to see, and begs loudly for help. The exorciser holds her up before the globe, and orders her in the Name of the Great Being to declare what she sees. It seems that in her turn she has more or less suffering ; but the orders are repeated always in the same Name ; they become more and more pressing, and proceed to menaces. HUMAN CREDULITY. 57 The poor clairvoyante falls to the ground and rolls ; she is raised up and supported before the globe ; trembling and agitated, she declares that there appear before her eyes, still in a state of confusion and uncertainty, the persons and things that compose the scene on which information is desired. The performer does not let her off so easily ; she is obliged- to recognise the persons, to make sure of their dress and their actions, and to repeat the words they make use of. This is only obtained by the exercise of great patience, through contortions, grinding of teeth, and such severe convulsions that at the end of the ceremony the clairvoyante is carried to bed half-dead. It would be hard to believe that such scenes took place in France at the end of the eighteenth century ; yet they attracted persons of consequence in the court and in the ■city. The Count d'Estaing had been led away by these follies, and became their champion. The Cardinal de Eohan was in a state of admiration of the advantage that the new divination would procure to him over his enemies, and it was reported that the Duke de Chartres,""' at whose court it had been decided no longer to believe in a God, was quite inclined to believe in Cagliostro, so true is it that there always is a fountain of credulity in human weakness, and if it be not exhausted by the mysteries of religion, it bursts forth at hap-hazard in ridiculous or dangerous forms. M. de Malesherbes told me that Voltaire went home out of humour when he heard a raven croak on his left, and Bonaparte was a fatalist ! As I said, I left Madame de Lamotte to her intrigues, to her greatness, and her miracles, and divided my time between study and society which was very good company in itself, and especially for me. Twice a * Afterwards Duke of Orleans, and ' £galit^. ' 68 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF COUNT BEUGNOT. month at the outside I went to see Madame de Lamotte ;. if she were oiit I wrote m}^ name in her visiting-book, and it reckoned as a call ; if I met her the terms were well understood. She told me no more of her fortune, of her connections, or her business at Paris ; and thus our intimacy was nothing more than in accordance with frigid politeness. I went to the last supper I had with her C[uite by chance ; one of my comrades had spoken of the arc|ue- busiers of Paris in my presence, and had added that a president of the legal profession, M. Pinon, was colonel. I knew that tlie arquebusiers of Bar-sur-Aube were the first in rank of the military institutions of that city, but I did not think that anything so ridiculous would be known at Paris. I was curious to see if it were true; my comrade offered me the means of so doing, and proposed to take me to an arquebus banquet that was to be held exactly three days later. I accepted his offer, and we went thither. We amused ourselves for some time at the ridiculous appearance of the little shopkeepers of Paris, clothed in very rich uniforms, and at the mixed character of the feast presided over by M. Pinon the younger. My comrade was expected at an evening party, and I sent him in my carriage, while I stayed some time longer at the ball, as there were some pretty women there. I walked away about ten o'clock, and kept along the boule- vard, intending to hire a carriage at the stand in the Rue St. Louis. When I came to opposite the Rue Saint Gilles, where Madame Lamotte lived, I instinctively went down it, and found myself at the door of her house. I remembered where I was, and asked if anyone were at home. I was told the owners were all out, and that I should only find Mademoiselle Colson. It only made me the more disposed to stop. This Colson girl was a relation of M. de Lamotte, on whom his ladv had TETE-A-TETE WITH MLLE. COLSON. 59 conferred a degree, and made her a companion. She was tolerably sensible and witty, and when I met her we used to hold up our hands in astonishment at the extravagance and follies of the heads of the family. They told her nothing, but she made it all out. She said to me that day, " I think their highnesses have some great scheme on hand. They spend their lives in secret councils, to Avhich the first secretary alone is admitted. His reverence the sub-secretary is reduced to listening at the doors, and he makes three journeys a day to the old Rue du Temple, without being able to make out a word that will betray the meaning of the message he carries. The friar is in despair, for he is as curious as a devout old woman." Thus we passed two hours in speaking ill of our neighbour, in guessing, and making prophecies. AVhen I wanted to take leave. Mademoiselle Golson showed me the clock. It was midnight, I should find no carriage on the stand. Since it was so late, there was nothing for me to do but wait for the return" of Madame de Lamotte, and for her to send me home ; I consented to do so. At last, between twelve and one o'clock, we heard the sound of a carriage, out of which there got Monsieur and Madame de Lamotte, Villette, and a woman of from twenty-five to thirty years of age, fair, very handsome, and very well made. The two ladies were elegantly but simply dressed ; the two men, in morning coats, so that they looked as if they had returned from a party of pleasure in the country. Of course they began by joking on my tete-a-tete with Mademoiselle Golson, and on our vexation at such an untimely interruption. There were discussions and laughter ; we sat down. The unknown lady shared in the general liveliness, but in moderation, and with timidity. We sat down to table, the mirth went on, and became noisy ; Mademoiselle Golson and I 60 LIFE AND ADVENTUEES OF COUNT BEUGNOT. preserved such an appearance of wonder and gi'avity as always distinguishes persons thrown among very mirthful people, without being able to share their amusement, or knowing its occasion. However, our presence was a con- straint to the party in their overflow of mirth, for they could not freely speak of the subject of their pleasure, and enjoy all the circumstances. M. de Lamotte con- sulted Villette whether there were any danger in speaking out. Villette answered that "he did not consider the saying true, that one is only betrayed by one's friends, as one is so by all the world, and that really discretion — " He had got so far, when Madame de Lamotte, at whose side he sat at table, sharply put her hand on his mouth, telling him in a most imperative tone, " Be quiet, M. Beugnot is too honest a man for us to confide in him." I give the words, without the alteration of a syllable. It would have been a flattering compliment, had not Madame de Lamotte, in her ordinary conversation, used the words stupid and honest as synonymous. Madame de Lamotte, as she generally did with me, turned the conversation on Bar-sur-Aube, on my family, and when I expected to get back there. Everybody wished the supper to come to an end. I asked Madame de Lamotte to let her horses take me home. She only made a trifling objection ; she had to send home the unknown guest at table, and settled that whichever lived the farthest off' should first drop the other. I objected, and asked the handsome lady to allow me to see her home wherever she might live, and said I was afraid that in any case it would prove too near. I had, from the first moment that I set eyes on her, been disquieted by the face of this woman, with the sort of feeling that one has towards a face that one is certain of having seen somewhere, without being able to remember where and when. And I hoped to find this out while MADEMOISELLE D OLIVA. 61 seeing her home. I put several questions to her, in hopes that she would put me on the track, but could get nothing out of her ; whether it were that in a private conference before we started, Madame de Lamotte had recommended her to say nothing, or, as I am more in- clined to think, that she was disposed naturally to prefer mute scenes to conversation. I set down the silent beauty in the Rue de Clery. The uneasiness I had experienced at her face was really caused by no less than her perfect likeness to the Queen ; for the lady was no other than Mademoiselle d'Oliva, and the delight of the party was occasioned by the perfect success of the plot just played off in the groves of Versailles, where the Cardinal de Rohan, deceived by her likeness, received a rose and a little speech from Mademoiselle d'Oliva, thinking in his madness that they came from the Queen herself ! T was then devoid of any key to the mystery ; but soon found it, when the matter became public ; and could then have no doubt who were the real culprits. 63 CHAPTER III. Castle of Brienne— Clairvaux — Conversation witli the Count de Dampierre — Jour de la St. Bernard— The Abbe Maury— The Diamond Necklace— My Advice to Madame de Lamotte — Letters of the Cardinal de Rohan— Arrest of Madame de Lamotte — Conduct of the Baron de Breteuil — Mile. d'Oliva — M. de Crosne — My Refusal to defend Madame de Lamotte— M. Doitot — Cag-liostro and Serafina Feliciani — The Opposition Party. I RESOLVED to return into Champagne though it was no later than the month of July. I\Iy sister was going into Provence with her husband, and I wished to see her before she went. I was afraid my parents would suffer from the unaccustomed loneliness, and thought it a duty to gi\'e up some months of my stay in Paris. I went to bid adieu to Madame de Lamotte, and she scolded me sharply for my sudden departure, saying that she did not intend to leave Paris till about the beginning of October. I was much surprised to see her arrive in the first days of August with her whole household, husband and all. Villette alone stayed at Paris like a hidden sentinel ; and what seemed the more strange was the daily arrival of waggon-loads of furniture, much more than the house could hold, and splendid furniture too. Two complete services of plate and china of the greatest beauty wound up this luxurious outfit. To complete their rashness, they displayed a case of diamonds worth eight thousand pounds. The husband possessed more than was likely to belong to an honest man, and every carriage they had was built in England with a care and attention to detail that showed that expense was the last thing- considered. EUIENXE. 63 Among tlie furniture might be noticed some of those costly fancies that the arts invent to tempt the most i^ro- digious wealth — two artificial canary birds that sung an air in two parts ; golden musical boxes (now become more common, but still rare at tliat time) ; mechanical clocks that exhibited different spectacles every hour they struck. And on seeing these things one could not but feel that they could only have been purchased by people weary of their money, and ready to throw it away. All along it might be thought possible for the Cardinal de Rohan to be at the bottom of this magnificent waste, and to admire the good use to which his Eminence put the funds of the Grand Almoner. Men were surprised the first time the house had displayed its magnificence ; this time they were anxious and almost indignant. The husband and wife gave no sign of uneasiness, their table was excellent, and they gave parties in rapid succession. They tried to attract the whole town, and to distribute their favours beyond it; but their success was not very great in either direction. I saw a melancholy instance of this. Brienne was at that time one of the most frequented country mansions in France. Persons of consequence, and distinguished literary men, from Paris visited it ; and the county nobility were constantly there. Plays were much acted there, as well as everywhere else. M. de Lamotte told me one day that he was asked thither by M. de Brienne, and offered me a seat in his carriage if I would like to see the sight. I accepted. We went in a very splendid carriage with four horses, and three servants behind. Just before starting I should have liked to cry off, for I felt that I should share in the absurdity of this ostentation ; and, indeed, our arrival disgusted every one. Happily for us the preparation for the pla}- occupied every one's attention, pariicularly that of the owners of the house. After entering the saloon in order 04 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF COUNT BEUGNOT. to sliow ourselves, we went into tlie theatre. I was- beside M. de Lamotte, and soon saw that lie was the object of malicious glances, and of opera-glasses passed from hand to hand with sarcastic smiles and shrugs. He deserved it, being most elaborately dressed, and in the worst taste had managed to introduce several dia- monds at a period of great simplicity. Indeed, he wore a dress-coat of sky-blue, a white waistcoat with embroidery, and canary-coloured taifety breeches. Dress-coats were worn then as now, crossing in front, but with larger facings. Madame de Lamotte had taken a fancy to have a beautiful nosegay of lihes and roses embroidered on the left lajDpet of her husband's coat. Such an ornament had never been used by any one before, and never was again ! Everybody was wondering what it meant, and conjectured that it was a sort of parody on the impaled arms of husband and wife, the one being roses and the other fleurs-de-lis. Stupidity and folly could go no fiu'ther. After the play the company returned to the saloon ; there were among them the neighbouring nobility, and men of letters from Paris ; the Abbe de Morellet, De Laharpe, and Masson de MorviUiers. I bowed to Madame de Brienne, who hardly nodded to me, and turned her back ; my welcome by the master of the house was confined to a " good evening, sir," in a very dry tone. It is impossible to be at ease in a large company when ill-received by the master of the house. I remained standing, not knowing whither to direct my steps in the enemy's camp ; when my good stars brought the Count de Dampierre into the room, and he took possession of my person when I did not know what to do with myself It was a piece of luck for him to have me to talk to of all the innovations that were already working in his head ; and even much greater luck for me to have M. DE LAMOTTE. 65 Mm to listen to. That lie might not waste the time of supper, he dragged me to the table, and seated me next him, presenting an example of a person who could talk eagerly and eat plentifully both at once. I was a little distracted by trying to see what had become of my travel- ling companion. M. Dampierre continually brought me back to the subject in hand. He said : "Take no notice, there's a poor fop down there, and they have been laughing at him for these two hours ; do you know him ? " "Yes, a little." " Well, who is he? Is he one of our sort ? Does he know where we are ? " " Not in the least." "Well, let them serve him as they like." Then M. Dampierre resumed his discourse with the same eagerness. Supper came to an end long before my lecturer, and on leaving the table I listened to him with additional pleasure, for my position as his auditor was just such as to prevent my being put out of countenance. I only knew what happened through the stories of some guests who came to tell us the tricks that they had played M. de Lamotte during supper. He had been carefully prevented from getting anything to eat, in spite of the splendid repast before his eyes, and quitted the table as unpleasantly hungry as Sancho Panza at the end of the first banquet served up to him in his government. This was effected by a set of tricks, and the inventors were delighted by their success. Every newcomer wanted to tell us what he had to do with it. The Count de Dampierre broke out against interruptions. " Good, very good ; but let us alone, we have no canary-coloured breeches, nor flowers em- broidered at our button-hole ; there is your man crouching in the chimney-corner ; go and laugh at him, if he chooses to bear it, and leave us to talk sense." M. de Lamotte took courage. He came to me, and asked me to go. I was very glad to do so ; but there 66 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF COUNT EEUGNOT. was somethmg more at the bottom of the cup. ^A' hen I went to make my bow to M. de Brienne, and asked him almost trembhng if he had any commands to Bar-sur- Aube, he made me a sign to come to him, and as I left the hands of M. de Dampierre, who could never leave off, I fell into the hands of M. de Brienne, who was not much better. He had not sat down to table, and had taken no share in the practical jokes from which M. de Lamotte had suffered. Indeed, he had angrily refused to hear any stories about them; but he had not been a bit better pleased at my coming to his house in such company. I made my excuses as best I could, saying that M. de Lamotte had told me that he had been invited to Brienne for that very day. M. de Brienne showed me that whether M. de Lamotte were invited or not, I had been very wrong to come with him. I quite agreed, and asked his pardon, because it was the quickest way of concluding the matter. But the conversation at once took another turn. Hardly anything went on in the county that M. de Brienne did not take an interest in, and always a most honourable view of it. I was consulted on many points, so there were several subjects we had to speak of, and he was lengthy. Poor M. de Lamotte stood at a distance, watching our motions, and longing for the moment when I should be released ; and all the while people were passing backwards and forwards, with marks of scorn or pity. I did not dare to mention his name, nor to point out that he had been waiting an hour for me. I ventured on a first salutation, as if to take leave. M. de Brienne took no notice, and went on talking. A few minutes later he began again, and asked me to sleep at Brienne. All this time my travelling companion was on live coals. At last I plucked uj) a morsel of courage, and took my leave. I went out with M. de Lamotte, and we got into TEOPOSED VISIT. 67 his magnificent carriage, M'ith two servants holding torches behind, and, besides them, a negro covered with silver from head to foot. The Avindows of the saloon at Brienne look out on the north terrace, forming the principal entrance of the mansion. Lladame de Brienne and all the company were at the windows to behold the majesty of our departure, and to do homage to it by clapping their hands, with laughs and jokes that we could very plainly hear ; and which only made the carriage go the faster. I behaved as if I had heard nothing of what had taken place, M. de Lamotte as if he Lad nothing to complain of We both took refuge in talking of the play we had witnessed ; how the comedy was acted, and fell, to the best of our ability, on Madame de Brienne, who, at her age and with her figure, was bold enough to undertake the parts of the prettiest and archest soubrettes. When we got back, M. de Lamotte had the modesty not to say anything about his reception, I did as much from good feeling. The adventure soon got wind, and was embellished by the tales of those who had performed in it, and for a fortnight divided the interest of the houses of the neighbourhood with the riddle about Mercury. Madame de Brienne never ceased talking of it, and rejoicing over it, though 1 sometimes took the liberty of telling her that it was one of those moments of her life when she had failed in kindness. Some days later, Madame de Lamotte proposed to me to go with her on a visit to the Duke de Penthievre, who was then at Chateau Vilain. The wound inflicted at Brienne was still open, and I had taken all sorts of oaths that I would not be caught again, so I refused. She insisted ; I pointed out to her that, having no claim to be received by one of the royal family, nor any request to make from him, I w^ould not submit to dining with his gentlemen- in-waiting, nor be present at his taking coffee. I must 68 LIFE AND ADTENTUEES OF COUNT BEUGNOT. add, to make what I have mentioned intelhgible, that etiquette was more scrupulously observed in the house- hold of the Duke de Penthievre than in that of any other prince of the blood. His Christian humility never transgressed that sanctuary. Madame de Maintenon had profoundly inculcated on the Duke de Maine that he must be the more especially particular in requiring all his dues as prince of the blood, in order that he might find means of rendering himself independent of those persons who were determined to make some difference between a legitimate and an illegitimate prince. The tradition of the lessons of the royal instructress had been preserved in that collateral branch of the family of Louis XIV., and was even not lost in the amiable daughter of the Duke de Penthievre, wdio was easy in the intercourse of life, but did not the less assert exaggerated pretensions on some points, without choosing to see that they were entirely out of date. When a person attended in the morning at Chateau Vilain, to pay his respects to the Prince, the honour of an audience had to be solicited through one of his gentlemen, and it was granted for that day after mass. The prince received all persons presented to him with equally gentle kindness. The nobles were asked to dine with him, the others with his first gentleman. MM. clu Hausier and de Florian, who took turns to fulfil the duties of that office, were two specimens of the most gracious urbanity. After the first gentlcinan's dinner, it was proposed to go and have coffee with him, or to take it with the Prince. The second proposal was always adopted. The company went to the salon, and found there the party that had the honour of dining with his highness, in full force and haughtiness. They did not fail to salute the newcomers with patronising complaisance. There might be some among them ill-dressed, others who seemed deficient in CHATEAU VILAIN. 69 good manners, but one and all, for fear of being confused with tlie commoners, had resumed the antique sword or hunting knife, for either ornament was admissible at the Court at Chateau Vilain. Then M. de Penthifevre continued his attentions to the newcomers with studied refinement. His countenance full of touching serenity, the sound of his voice, and his bearing, all conspired in this prince to express the most lofty and amiable virtue. In him could be seen one of the relics of the time of Louis XIV., that had, it is true, been handed down to us with its graces, sanctified by religion. Nothing was too much to pay for the pleasure of enjoying — if only for a few minutes — the favour of his gentle presence. Yet commoners did not present themselves at Chateau Vilain, unless they were dependants of the Prince, or had some favour to ask of him. I had once been there with that intention, but not for any favour for myself To be sure, I could do nothing but be j^roud of the reception given to me, but still I had no wish to repeat the experiment. So I refused Madame de Lamotte, and only asked her to put me down at Clairvaux, a place on the road from Bar-sur-Aube to Chateau Vilain, and pick me up again in the evening after her visit. Having agreed on this, we set out on the 17th of August, 1785, at eight o'clock in the morning, a day I cannot forget. Madame de Lamotte left me at Clairvaux, as we had settled, and went to Chateau Vilain. She dined there, and Avas received in a way that surprised the members of that court. The Prince escorted her to the door of the second room, close to the top of the grand staircase, an honour he did not grant to the duchesses, and that he reserved for princesses of the blood ; so deeply had the lessons of Madame de Maintenon, on the honours to be paid to illegitimate branches, sunk into his memory. While Madame de Lamotte paid her visit, I stayed at 70 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF COUNT BEUGNOT. Clairvaux, where I was a familiar guest. The Abbot begged me to spend three days there, if I was not afraid of the feast of Saint Bernard ; and promised in return that I should hear the Abbe Maury, who was to come that evening and preach a eulogium on the saint. Saint Bernard's day was a great affair at Clairvaux. The poor who came to the abbey gates, received a dole there, and the citizens of Bar-sur-Aube or its neighbour- hood were invited to dine in the refectory, where the Abbot took the head of the table on this occasion only every year. I wished to be present at this dinner, partly in order to have my joke at the Abbot, who had spoken in my presence of this custom as an old relic that he was going to put down, and had rather superciliously talked of the guests who attended. The Abbot's figure was handsome, his face good-looking and amiable, so that when he had the honour of being presented to the King at Versailles after his election, the Queen, struck with his appearance, and the grandeur with which he bore the habit of his order, could not refrain from exclaiming, " What a handsome monk ! " Dom Rocourt was pohte to men, gallant towards women, and, with or withotit all this, very dull. I could never make him understand, at the beginning of the Revolution, that it was all over with him, his abbey and his monks, and that they would be delighted to leave him. He had the disposal of £15,000 or £20,000 a year, had very nice carriages, and never stirred without four horses and an outrider. He caused himself to be called your Grace by his monks, and the persons who composed his court, and also by the numerous applicants for his favours. He governed as a despot, I know not how many convents of monks and nuns, all dependent on his abbey, and he delighted in the visits of the latter. When despoiled of all this by the Revolution, nothino- wns Ipft nf Tiim 1-,n+ Li'c! rlnll NEWS FROM PAPaS. 71 comeliness, and he retired to Bar-sur-Aube with a house- keeper, and a daughter by her. At the time of the Con- cordat, I tried to raise him from this condition, and get him a bishopric. Portahs was well disposed to give him one ; indeed we had selected Chrdons ; but, after medita- ting some time, our friend at last refused. He must have put away his companions, to devote himself seriously to the apostolic functions, and he would not, or rather could not, do so. I return to Madame de Lamotte. She came back about eight o'clock. I informed her how I was engaged ; she wanted to join me, and stay for the feast of Saint Bernard. The Abbot made excuses ; the performance was entirely religious, the ladies that generally live at Clairvaux depart for that day, and leave it to the ceremony of Saint Bernard, and to his children ; but they return next day, and the Abbot begged Madame de Lamotte to add to their number. He was profuse in respect and reverence. Doubtless the Abbot was aware of the intimate connection between the Cardinal de Ptohan and Madame de Lamotte, for he treated her like a princess of the Church. We walked about in company while waiting for the Abbe Maury and supper ; nine o'clock struck, and the Abbd Maury had not arrived ; at half-past nine it was settled to wait no longer for him. We were hardly seated when the noise of a carriage was heard ; it was the eulogist of Saint Bernard. The Abbot ran to meet him, and forced him to come into the dining-room, with- out giving him time to change his travelling dress. The travellers had hardly had time to unfold their napkins, before the Abbot asked his visitor from Paris what was the talk there, what was going on, and if there was any news. "What!" said the Abbe Maury ; "news? why, where do you live then ? There is a bit of news not the 73 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF COUNT BEUGNOT. least understood, tliat astonishes and confounds all Paris. M. the Cardinal de Rohan, Grand Almoner of France, was arrested last Tuesda}^, the day of the Assumption, in his pontifical dress, and as he left the King's cabinet." " Is the cause of such a severe decree known? " "No, not exactly. There is talk of a diamond necklace he was to have bought for the Queen, and did not buy. But it is not believed that the Grand Almoner of France would be arrested for such a trifle as that in his pontifical dress, — -you understand in his pontifical robes, when leaving the King's cabinet ! " Directly I heard this piece of news, I cast my eyes on Madame de Lamotte, who had dropped her napkin from her hands, and stared over her plate, pale and motionless. After the first instant, she made an effort, and left the dining-rooin. One of the officials of the house followed her, and some minutes later I left the room, and went to look for her. She had already ordered her horses, we went away together, and this was nearly our con- versation. "Perhaps, I was wrong to come away so suddenly, particularly before the Abbe Maury?" "Not at all; your intimacy with the Cardinal is known — almost public. His life may be concerned in this ; you ought to be beforehand with letters, couriers, or news. You might have done wrong to lose time by supping at Clairvaux ; but can you give any cause for this arrest ? " "No, unless it be for some sleight of hand of his — Cagliostro, the Cardinal is infatuated with him ; it is not my fault, I never ceased to warn him." "Very good. But what is this story of a necklace that was to have been bought for the Queen ? How could a Cardinal have to buy a necklace? And how could the Queen have selected Prince Louis for this, whom she openly detests?" " I tell vou ap-ain it is all Cno-linstrn " AREEST OF THE CARDINAL DE ROHAN. 73 " But you liave had this charlatan at your house, and are you not at all compromised with him?" "Not the least bit in the world, and I am quite easy ; I was very wrong to leave the supper." "No, that was not the least wrong. If you are easy for yourself, on your own account, you ought not to be so for an unfortunate friend." " Ah, you do not know him ; as he is in a mess now, he is capable of saying a hundred foolish things to get him- self out of it." " Madame deLamotte, you are saying much more than I should have wished to hear. I have a last service to offer you. It is ten o'clock at night and we are near Bayet ; I will leave you then in charge of a friend, whom you know I can answer for. I will return to Bar-sur- Aube in your carriage and tell M. de Lamotte, and he can come for you in an hour's time in a travelling carriage, with your two best horses, and all your most valuable things packed in it. And you will together start on the road to Cha.lons this very night, for that of Troyes is not safe for you. You will get to the coast of Picardy or Normandy. Do not appear at Boulogne, nor at Calais, nor Dieppe, whither your description is perhaps already sent, but between these harbours there are twenty places whence you can get put across into England for ten pounds." " Sir, you are tedious ; I have let you proceed to your conclusion, because I was thinking of something else. Must you be told ten times over that I have nothing to do with this business ? I repeat, I am very sorry I rose from table, as if I was an accomplice of your Cardinal." " Madame, we will say no more ; yet I wish to add that, by your own confession, you have more than once been sorry that you had not followed my advice ; may heaven grant that in the present business your re- pentance be not more poignant than usual." We proceeded in silence for half an hour. As we 74 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OP COUNT BEUGNOT. entered the town, I begged her at least to burn any papers that might compromise her or the Cardinal I said, " It is a measure required by honour on one side, and your own safety on the other." She consented to do so, I offered to help her ; she did not refuse, and when we left the carriasre we went to her room. Her husband had gone out hunting in the morning, and had not re- turned. We opened a great sandal-wood box full of papers of all sizes and colours. I was in haste to have done ; I asked her if there were among these papers any cheques to bearer, or notes of the discount bank; and on her answer that there were not, pi'oposed to throw them altogether into the fire. She insisted on at least a summary examination. We set to work at it very slowly on her side, precipitately on mine. Then it was that, casting cursory glances over some of the thousands of letters of the Cardinal de Rohan, I was sorry to see what a wreck the delirium of love, exaggerated by the madness of ambition, had made of this wretched man. It is fortunate for the Cardinal's memory that these letters have been suppressed ; but a loss to the history of human passion. What an age was that when a prince of the church did not hesitate to WTite, to sign with his name, and to address to a w'oman letters that a man of our day who had the least self-respect might begin to read, but would never finish. Among this medley of papers, were found numbers of bills, some receipted, some not, offers of lands for sale, advertisements of precious ornaments, of new inventions, as if all kinds of greediness had combined to draw from the Pactolus flowing at the feet of Madame de Lamotte. I found letters of Bohemer and Bossange which mentioned the necklace, notified the expiry of terms, acknowledged the receipt of certain sums and asked for larger. I asked Madame de Lamotte what to do with thpm ftViP lipsitn+prl n mnmont. AEKEST OF MADAME DE LAMOTTE. 75 to reply, and I took the shortest way and threw them mto the fire altogether. It was a long business. I left Madame de Lamotte, begging her more than ever to go away. She answered by promising me she would go to bed directly. So I left her in her rooms, poisoned by the smell of burnt papers, impregnated with twenty different scents. It was three o'clock in the morning; at four she was arrested, and by half-past four on the way to the Bastille. The examination I had made of her papers, though very superficial, had solved my doubts ; but I had found so much extravagance in the Cardinal's letters, that I thought them both ruined, and through each other. I learnt her arrest from ]\I. de Lamotte, who came to tell me at six in the morning, in a consequential and tranquil tone. He had taken no part in looking over the documents of his lady wife in the night, because when she came home she said she was going to bed, and closed her door against all the world, not excepting him. He had only heard in the morning, and from his wife, after her apprehension, what was passing in Paris, and why she was conducted thither. He pretended to be quite at his ease. " Madame de Lamotte is only gone for three or four days at most ; she is going to furnish the minister with some explanations he wants. I think she will be back by Wednesday or Thursdtay, and we must arrange to go and meet her and bring her back in triumph." " Sir," said I to him, " I beg to inform you, as you are unaware of it, that this very night I advised your -wife to set off for England with you, and that by the shortest road. If she had taken that advice, she would not now be on the high road to the Bastille. I would counsel you to perform alone what I advised for both of you ; believe me, it will be much more safe for you than to lose ■Drecious time in lulling yourself with delusions, or en- 76 LIFE AND ADVENTUEES OF COUNT BEUGNOT. deavouring to inspire tliem into otliers. I know enough of your position to tell you plainly that you are acting the part of a maniac or idiot." " How sharp you are with me to-day ! What has Madame de Lamotte told you ? " " She has told me nothing. The more reason why I advise you to make a very speedy retreat. You understand me, very speedy." M. de Lamotte left me, shrugging his shoulders and humming a tune. When he got home, whether it was that he only came to give me a catch word, and to others through me, or that he thought it well to follow my advice, he got into a carriage and travelled to England as quickly as he could. This occurred on the 18th of August, and, only four days later, orders for his arrest came to Bar-sur-Aube. I have never been able to satisfy myself as to the con- duct of the minister when this matter exploded. The Cardinal de Rohan was arrested on the 15th, at noon, and in the explanation he gave in the King's cabinet before the Queen, M. de Vergennes, and the Baron de Breteuil, he declared that he had been deceived by a woman who called herself Countess de Valois de Lamotte. There should have been no hesitation at such a declara- tion : twenty-four hours would have been enough to have Madame de Lamotte arrested at Bar-sur-Aube. But the day of the 16th, and that of the 17th, passed, and it was only at five o'clock in the morning of the 18th that this pressing matter was executed. Had Madame de Lamotte retained, as they ought to have expected, some one at Paris to send a messenger to her on the 16th, or even on the morning of the 17th, if only she had chosen to make use of the intelligence received at Clairvaux from the Abb6 Maury, who had given it in perfect innocence, the lady would have escaped, and then the Cardinal's situation would have been dpsp p.ratp But to nnntinn p ■ tlip niips- CONDUCT OF THE MINISTER. 77 tion was the theft of a magnificent set of diamonds, per- formed by means of a set of comphcated negotiations. Madame de Laraotte was arrested, bnt arrested alone. It was not till five days later that they came to arrest her husband, as if he would have been likely to remain quietly at home, and devotedly prepare for a journey to the Bastille, Avhen warned of what awaited him by the fate of his wife.* And it was not for a week after M. de Lamotte's departure that it ever entered their heads to search for the diamonds. They returned to look for them at Bar-sur-Aube, one would think in the expectation of not finding them ; for how was it possible to imagine that M. de Lamotte, when they had gi\'en him time, had not carried them off, or placed them in security? So much for Bar-sur-Aube. At Paris they gave Villette the secretary and confidant of Madame de Lamotte plenty of time to return to Switzerland ; and he took it, For this Villette, the slowest and most imprudent of men spent ten days at Paris getting information on all sides and publicly, of how the matter proceeded, and did not decide on departure till forced to do so by some persons who took an interest in him. Even Father Loth, that shameless monk, was allowed time to go and bury him- self under another name in some distant convent of his order. How is this conduct of the Baron de Breteuil to be explained ? Was it want of skill in his office, or was the tradition lost how to perform the orders of a King of France in a firm and vigorous manner, thanks to an indulfrence that here dated from the time of '&"■ Louis XIV. ? Must something be allowed for the re o * "M. Mnstiphragasis, Count de Valois, Knight of St. Louis and of the Crown, of the mounted nobility of Angoiileme, has just died in Paris very old and rather poor. He had been the husband of the famous Madame de Lamotte Valois, who so audaciously made a dupe of the Cardinal de Rohan in the business of the necklace. He was generally known by the name of Valois ecklace."— From the ' Journal de Paris' of the 12th of November, 1831. 7S LIFE AND ADVENTUEES OF COUNT BEUGNOT. markable incapacity of tlie lieutenant of police, de Crosne, whose eyes could not perceive tlie springs so cleverly set by liis tv^^o latest predecessors, MM. de Sartine and Lenoir ? At that time the preventive pohce was still in great force, for it is a machine that goes on of itself and only requires not to be disturbed. But the political police was weak, for it greatly depends on the dexterity of the highest persons who direct it. The Baron de Breteuil did not by a long way find in the good credulous M. de Crosne the assistance that his predecessor, M. Amelot, had found in that very dexterous M. Lenoir. It cannot be here denied that the famous business of the necklace was conducted by the Minister, from itf^ com- mencement, with an incapacity so great as to justify the friends of the Cardinal in accusing the Baron de Breteuil of having contrived by it to accomplish the triumph of his passion and resentment. I have some reason for thinking that the two causes were combined, and shall soon find an opportunity for giving the grounds of my opinion.* Suppose that the business had been conducted with skill and firmness. On the 15th they ought to have sealed up all Madame de Lamotte's property in Paris, arrested her two secretaries, and with them all who had been intimate in the house. On the 16th they ought to have captured M. and Madame de Lamotte at Bar-sur- Aube, their papers, their diamonds, and also their faithful servants in that city. When all was collected at the * At tlie first moment the idea of tlie King-, the Queen, and ministers was that the Cardinal, being involved in debt, had been desirous of appropriating the necklace by making use of the Queen's name. Then Madame de Lamotte made her aiipearance in the eyes of these people not as author of the robbery, but at most as an accomplice of the Cardinal. It was not till the lady's guilt became apparent that they felt it to be necessary to apprehend her com- panions. There is an explanation that may be supplied, after reading the memoirs of Georgel, for the delay that surprised the author so much. — [Fe. Ed.] FEAR OF AEEEST. 79 Bastille, the indictment would have been easy. For instance, they would have found in Madame de Lamotte's jewel-case a bonbonniere that I had often admired there. It was a box of black tortoiseshell, with a ring of large diamonds round it, of exactly the same size and most perfect water ; the medallion on the top of the box was a rising sun cleaving away the clouds from the horizon. On touching a spring underneath this first painting was discovered a portrait of the Queen clothed in a simple white robe, with no more ornament on her head than her hair, raised according to the fashion of the day, and two curls that fell on each side down her neck, and holding a rose in her hand, exactly in the attitude and the dress that Mademoiselle d'Oliva had taken in the part which she played among the thickets of Versailles ; and by putting two of the Cardinal's letters in juxta-position with this box, it would have appeared that he had been made to hope that it might have been a pledge of re- conciliation with the Queen. It might have made it evident that he had received a full description of this splendid ornament ; that he was no longer in doubt of the hand from which he was to obtain it, and that he had thus lost his judgment. They would have seized on many details of great interest that were sure to disappear as soon as the matter was not treated as a simple swindle with nothing extraordinary in it except the names of the personages concerned. I could not imagine the excess of the Baron de Bre- teuil's clumsiness or want of zeal in this matter, and conjecturing what he would do from what he ought to have done, expected to be arrested. I remembered then the secret horror I always experienced in passing the Bastille, and I took it for a presentiment. I did not dare to leave Bar-sur-Aube, and trembled at staying there, because I represented to myself the despair of my rela- 80 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF COUNT BEUGNOT. tions in case of my arrest at my father's house, to be taken to the head of the Fanbourg Saint Antoine (the Bastille). A fortunate accident delivered me from my embarrassment. The town of Bar-sur-Aube had a suit in progress of some consequence, and ready to be tried before the council. The advocate required some one to be sent to second him at the court. The town-council selected me, and I was able to regain the capital without exciting any suspicion of the cause of my journey. My position there was very delicate. Men were much taken up with the affair of the necklace ; and yet it was not cleared up. I never went anywhere without being put into the witness-box. I adopted the course of secluding myself from all society. I did not attend the courts, and entirely occupied myself about the cause for which I had been sent. The business had caused a division among the population of Bar-sur-Aube, as was the case in any affairs of importance that concerned small towns. The side against whom I was writing and pleading, considered my presence at Paris very inconvenient, and tried to get m'e away. I received letters dictated by the purest friendship, but without the authors being bold enough to declare themselves, containing the intelligence that I was going to be sent to the Bastille. I was conjured to get away with all speed. These pieces of information found me the more inclined to uneasiness, because I thought, as I repeat, that my arrest was most probable. The last letter that I received made some impression, because it had been artfully contrived to make me suspect that it came indirectly from a chief clerk in the King's house- hold, with whom I was on terms of great intimacy, but whom I had not gone to see from motives of deli- cacy. Then I wanted to have recourse to the great protector of the afflicted of the province, the Count de Brienne. By my unlucky visit I had given him such PRlirAEING FOE THE BASTILLE. 81 a fair opportunity for overwhelming me with reproaches, that I did not hke to expose myself to them. I went to look for my old friend, M. Finot, who, faithful to the axiom of the President de Harlay, considered that wdiile awaiting the moment for clearing oneself it was better to be beyond the reach of the first blows; and to induce me to fly, he quietly reminded me of one of our clients who had come under my observation, and surrendered himself to purge a contempt of court for- gotten twenty years before, and had very nearly lost his head by it, though under the protection of President de Lamoignon, who had given him this dangerous advice. I think I should have determined on flight, if I had only had my own interests dependent on me, but I was de- puted by the city of my birth, I was employed to defend her in a cause on which the council was immediately to pronounce judgment. To abandon such an affair, to fly from a sacred duty, was to proclaim myself guflty. I even felt that longer consultations might make me liable to suspicion. I put myself into a state of self-concentration, and having deliberated on the reasons for and against, I came to the determination to remain at all costs. I had not to reproach myself with a singlefalse step, or piece of advice that an honest man need disavow ; so I had nothing to be afraid of, if, as then seemed hkely, the matter should be sent up for trial ; and if it were treated as a political matter, the worst that could happen to me would be to spend six months, or a year at most, in the Bastille. Persons were every day to be met in the world who had undergone this, and were none the worse for it. When once I had taken my part, I endeavoured to accustom myself to the impending retirement. I prepared my bao'e;a2,'e for the Bastille. I made it up of small editions of our best authors, then called Cazins, from the pub- lisher's name. I added a case of mathematical instru- 82 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF COUNT BEUGNOT. ments, an atlas, a sufficient provision of paper, pens, ink, and body linen. I packed it all in a trunk, whicli I placed at the bottom of my bed like a friend on the watch, to follow me when the time should come. I did more. I went two or three times to the entrance of the Faubourg Saint Antoine and to the Arsenal garden, to accustom myself to the sight of the Bastille, and to map it out as much as possible from a distance. Counting the narrow air-holes that served the purpose of windows, I endeavoured to conjecture which one it might be that would perform the office of conveying hglit to me. Thus I managed to accustom myself insensibly with the idea that had caused me so much terror. The governor of the BastiUe, the unfortunate M. Delaunay, was from my own province. I had heard him defended more than once against the calumnious imputations that Linguet had allowed himself to make against him in his Memoirs on the Bastille, and on this head I had heard it said that he performed his painful duty with all the kindness and politeness that were compatible with it. And this in- formation was not false ; for the persons who had been arrested and were not implicated in the business of the necklace, vied with each other in doing the governor justice as to the treatment they had experienced. M. Delaunay was the first victim of a revolution that claimed so many others, and I have felt some satisfaction at thus having an opportunity afforded me of paying a tribute to his memory. So I felt the more easy on this account. I at once cast off my terrors, and returned to composing with perfect freedom of mind the best memorial I ever made in my life on the cause of Bar-sur-Aube. I went on the journey to Fontainebleau, during which the cause came up for judgment, and I gained it according to M. de la Galaisifere, who very much wished to tell me, on the rising of the Council, that I had made the questions AFFAIR OF MADAME DE LAMOTTE. 83 SO clear that there was not the least difficulty in their determination. The receipt of my memorial on Bar-sur- Aube, and the decree of the Council that had crowned it, was a little local triumph for me which entirely removed any prejudice that my connexion with Madame de La- motte might have lei't there. I had refused to receive any payment for my mission, and so my fellow-citizens, desirous of showing their gratitude, elected me, though not twenty-five years old, one of the notables of the town, a position now represented by that of member of the muni- cipal council. This was the first occasion on which my fellow-citizens honoured me with their choice, and no other election gave me such great satisfaction, though I always gained their votes for the most emiuent public employments of which they had the disposal. During my absence the affair of Madame de Lamotte had been sent before the Parliament. They had been imposed upon in making this transfer. The Parliament had been given charge of the aifair by virtue of letters- patent, and a form of commission. Certainly there had been no desire, in adopting this form, save that of pre- venting the trial from passing through the two usual steps of the course of law ; but the world did not think of it in that manner, being very little aware of what these two usual steps were. It was better known that this form of commission had been sent to the Parliament when they were expected to deal justice more severe and prompt. There were several examples in support of this opinion. The trials were remembered of the Constable de Bourbon, of Marshal Biron, of the Constable de Mont- morency, of Keeper of the Seals de Marillac, of tlie Car- dinal de Retz, and more recently of the Count de Lally. There was the more reason for believing that another great example of severity was likely to be given, because the letters-patent, in their preamble, considered as proved 84 LIFE AXD AUYEKTUEES OF COUNT BEUGNOT. all the facts that related to the purchase of the necklace by the Cardinal on the Queen's account, and the theft by- Madam e de Lamotte. So there was no more occasion for inquiry on these jDoints, for having been put forth by the King, and the Parliament having enrolled the letters- patent containing them without remonstrance, they be- came evidence unquestionable. It was seen, under the principles that then governed us, how absurd it was to have an inquir}^, before the session, whether what the King had advanced in public letters were true or false. Such an idea not only was contrary to all the principles of the monarchy, but even bordered on the crime of treason. As the Parliament had adopted the letters-patent, it was obliged to agree to the spirit of them. Taking then as proved all the facts that they contained, its duty was to carefully inquire to what degree the King's majesty had been offended. The negotiation, the purchase, the robbery of the necklace, were more or less culpable, but still were nothing but means to an end. The grand fact that predominated in this miserable business was this, that M. and Madame de Lamotte had had the audacity to counterfeit; that at night, among the groves of Versailles, the Queen of France, the wife of the King, had arranged a meeting with the Cardinal de Ptohan, had spoken to him, had given him a rose, and allowed him to cast himself at her feet ; and that on his side, a Cardinal, and grand of- ficial of the Crown, had dared to believe that this appoint- ment had been made with him by the Queen of France, the wife of the King, — that he had kept it, had received a rose there, and thrown himself at her feet. There was the crime, the punishment for which was imperatively demanded by respect for religion, for royal majesty, and morality, which were all grievously outraged. Perhaps the time had already arrived when it became necessary to repress by a severe example the blind passion that M. DE CROSNE. 85 played with what had hitherto been considered most sacred. At the present day, when the Revolution has too much broken down the traditional respect for royal person- ages, who can conceive that the Parliament should not have looked on the scene in the thicket at Versailles as a mere swindle, and the actors as rogues and a dupe ? The Revolution had already taken place in those minds who could reiivard such an insult to the Kino" in the person of his wife with such culpable indifference or insolent carelessness. At the first commencement, no one could believe that the trial before the parliament could have such an end ; and I felt convinced that Madame de Lamotte would be more severely treated than she was — that is to say, that she would lose her life At ten o'clock at night, some days after my return from Fontainebleau, I received a request from M. de Crosne to go to him immediately. I did not know to what cause I should attribute such a message, and it gave me some concern. I looked at my Bastille luggage, not yet disturbed, and thought I should have to use it this time ; but since the trial was already before Parliament, it would not be for long. I went to the Lieutenant of Police. As soon as he saw me he said : " Sir, I have to speak to you for the Countess de Lamotte. I am sorry to have disturbed you at so late an hour, but I was hi haste to see you." This com- mencement was not reassuring. M. de Crosne added, " I have just left Madame de Lamotte, and she selects you for her counsel. Here is your order of admission to the Bastille. I request you to be there to-morrow at its opening, from nine to ten o'clock. The poor lady has not seen a friend's face for two months, and I promised her without fail that you should be at her orders to - morrow morning." I thanked M. de ■Crosne for his order of admission, and replied that I 86 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF COUNT BEUGNOT. could not accept the choice that Madame de Lamotte had made of me ; her affair was most serious ; I had neither the experience nor the talent that she required. It would be extravagant presumption on my part, and I refused. M. de Crosne persisted ; and objected, that if I required assistance, which he did not in the least believe, I could call in the aid of as many of my colleagues as I pleased. He made me especially observe that it was a case which would cause a very great sensation, and might make the reputation of a young advocate, and he insisted that I could obtain all the information and assistance that I might want. M. de Crosne could not manage to persuade me, though he was eloquent for perhaps the first time in his life. We parted. Next day came a fresh message from M. de Crosne, and another visit from me. He gave me an open letter from Madame de Lamotte, who could not understand the difficulties that I made about undertaking her defence, and begged me to come and see her. The official added his own very pressing entreaties, and supposed from my refusal, or perhaps from what Madame de Lamotte had told him, that I imagined there was some danger in the performance of the duty proposed to me. tie used every possible means to reassure me on this head, and ended by trying to persuade me to see M. de Breteuil. I refused again ; I could say nothing to the Minister that I had not said to himself, and he would not persuade me to do what I refused to the Lieutenant of Police. M. de Crosne insisted still more, I really do not know why, and made me perceive that greater readiness on my part to comply with the views of those in power would not injure my advancement, or my good luck, and continually repeated, " See the Baron de Breteuil." I protested to him that I could not have that honour, because I did not see what it could induce me to do ; and I left him. COUNSEL FOR MADAME DE LAMOTTE. 87 after having asked liis permission to write him a letter in answer to that of Madame de Lamotte. He might have known through one of his confidential persons, to whom I had expressed my sentiments, that I thought the theft of the necklace a miserable incident, while the scene in the gTOve appeared to me a capital charge. Apparently his own opinion was the same, and it suited him that the counsel of Madame de Lamotte should at the bottom of his heart share the same views. I answered the letter that she had written to me, imputing my refusal merely to my deficiency of experience and talent for so serious a cause, and added that it would be useless for her to insist on it any more ; for my denial was conscientious, and I would not retract it. I heard no more of it. Instead of me, M. de Crosne selected M. Doitot as counsel for Madame de Lamotte ; he was the family lawyer of the Lieutenant of Police. He had been in prac- tice a long time, and was not without some fame. At the age of more than sixty years he had retired to chamber practice, where he was still sought for as having a clear knowledge of the law. Even this old man did not come in contact with Madame de Lamotte without suffering for it. She turned his head. He really believed all the stories she told him, became enthusiastic for her and for her innocence, and made his entrance into the business by a printed memorial, one of the most extravagant that had ever come from the pen of an advocate since me- morials have been invented. Nevertheless, it had a miraculous success, for it was the preface to the "Arabian Nights;" and it was furnished by an old lawyer of seventy ! Cagliostro was violently attacked in the memorial of Madame de Lamotte. M. Thilorier rushed into the arena to defend the man of miracles. For the first time were the caverns of Memphis, whence the hero had 88 LIFE AND ADVENTUEES OP COUNT BEUGNOT. issued, and the labyrinths of tlie Pyramids, where he had been brought up, spoken of in the courts of justice ! The sacred obscurity that veiled his origin, his education, and his entire Hfe, were adduced as presages of marvels that should one day disclose themselves, and astonish the universe. Meanwhile, by way of a prelude to his super- human destiny, Cagliostro had cured the sick, assisted the poor, consoled the afflicted, and allowed some rays of the infinite light to penetrate into various places ; but he could not conceive why he was in the Bastille, implicated in an affair with which he had no connection. This absurdity, which the advocate Thilorier, a man of excellent sense, was the first to turn into ridicule, was thought quite reasonable and fashionable. The wife of Cagliostro had been imprisoned in the Bastille at the same time as her husband. An advocate, M. Polverit, quickly pounced upon her case, and gave us, in a hvely and well- written memorial, the defence of Seraphina Feliciani. Her origin was no better known than that of her husband. She was an angel in human form, sent on earth to share and soothe the hfe of the man of miracles. Radiant with a beauty above that of other women, she was only a model of tenderness, sweetness, and resignation ; no more, for she can only conjecture the contrary vices ; her nature offers to us poor human creatures the ideal of a perfection that we may be able to worship, but never to understand ! Yet this angel, without the power of sinning, is under lock and key ; it is a cruel anomaly that cannot be too soon put a stop to. What connection is there between a being of such a nature and a criminal indictment ? This new folly had likewise its success ! The advocate Blondel appeared for Mademoiselle d'Oliva. His short memorial was a little model, appro- priate and well written. He passed over the social rank VILLETTE. 89 of Mademoiselle d'Oliva, who did not entirely partake of the innocence of Seraphina Feliciani ; but her advocate represented her as a young person whom it had been too easy to deceive, and whom they had made to act in the groves of Versailles a part that she could not in the least imagine. Such was the skill of her advocate, and such is usually the power of skilful writing, that the public became prepossessed in favour of Mademoiselle d'Oliva, and this prepossession passed from the public into the members of the Session. Villette in his turn appeared on the scene, defended by M. Jaillant Deschainets, a little humpbacked advocate, and as spiteful as accorded with his stature. He even managed to make something out of the position of this wretched man. He drew him, as he really was, extremely facile, always ready to do what was asked of him, without being much aware of the drift. He confessed that Villette had traced at the bottom of the letter that caused the transfer of the necklace the words Marie Antoinette de France, but this form of signature is not that of the Queen, nor of any other person. Then to trace a line, with no signification at all in it, at the base of any document whatever is not a legal offence. So far it was all very well ; but the advocate, Jaillant, subsequently cast on Madame de Lamotte the blame of having caught Villette in her toils ; yet it was true that he had come to offer himself as a prey already bruised all over with wounds, received in snares that were worth not much more than those of Madame de Lamotte. Every one of these memorials was greatly in vogue, and called attention to the advocates who wrote them, and to the persons who furnished the subject. And now a person, emulous of this sort of fame, suddenly and unexpectedly appeared on the scene. He published a 90 LIFE AND ADVENTUEES OF COUNT BEUGNOT. memorial ; he said liis name was Bette d'Etienville, and that he was a country magistrate. For two years he had followed Madame de Lamotte like her shadow. He had seen and heard all ; had been present at all the scenes. He passed in review the Cardinal, Cagliostro, his wife, and all the personages of the drama. He contrived a position for himself in each action, and that the position of a very able man. He, with his genius, contended against those of Madame de Lamotte and Cagliostro united. The contest was sometimes doubtful, but he always triumphed at last. It is a fine thing to sing one's own praises. But whence came this new arrival? Whom had he a grudge against? What right had he to publish a memorial? This memorial is a romance full of animation, of interest, and good style. All the world read it, and was interested in M. Bette d'Etienville, without troubling their heads to know whether he was a real personage, or a fantastic being. Such are the childish games with which one of the most serious matters ever presented to the judgment of the Parliament was complicated. How could the Session itself allow these extravagancies of imagina- tion to displace the sohd forms of defence ? Was it a previous determination to bury under indecency and ridicule the crime they were unwilling either to prosecute or punish? Perhaps this may be believed. The house of Rohan, powerful in itself and through illustrious marriages, desired to save at any price one of its members who had been seriously compromised. The Prince de Conde did not refuse the assistance due to a family allied to his own. Such influences had full weight upon the upper class of society in Paris, disgusted at the commencement by the forcible arrest of the Cardinal, and not reconciled by the angry severity of the Baron de Breteuil. Dependants of the house of Rohan were M. DE ALIGEE. 91 found in every direction, and infused sympathy for the Cardinal even into the middle classes. It was hoped, and not unreasonably, that this mass of opinion would be sufficient to turn Parliament, from severe measures. That great body began to lose its self possession. The party in opposition to the court gained strength daily. De Calonne, the Finance Minister, had estranged the First President de Aligre, for some matter in which the latter had been really to blame ; but the moment for explosion was ill chosen. M. de Aligre had none of the qualities that make a great magistrate. He rather had the opposite faults ; but he had a singular dexterity in managing those around him, and since 1774 had always contrived to have a majority at his court. In this state of things the old government might have continued, at least for some time. But if, in 1786, M. de Aligre did not favour the opposition in the Parliament, he allowed it to arise ; and it met with encouragement at Versailles, even very near the throne — a most unheard-of circum- stance. At the time of the Cardinal's trial this opposition had not obtained a footing, but it already was in existence, and only awaited opportunity. It is to be conceived that it made trial of its power in this unhappy business. It only exercised too much influence. The court was hurt, and M. de Calonne took advantage of this moment of irritation to get his assembly of notables decreed. The Session could have no doubt that this assembly had been contrived in opposition to it, and never forgave even the successors of M. de Calonne. The disastrous results of these first intrigues are well known.* The scattered portions of this picture must be gathered together, in order to form an estimate of the * The Parliament of Paris was put in possession of the affair, called that of the necklace, by letters patent of the king-, dated the 5th of September, 1785. The preliminary examinations took nine months. 92 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF COUNT BEUGNOT. strange and scandalous matters in the prosecution and judgment of the affair of the Cardinal de Eohan. On the 31st of May, 1786, after eighteen hours of deliberation, the Session- al! chambers together — gave a decree by which the following were con- demned: — The Count de Lamotte to be branded and to the gaUeys, and his wife to be branded, and to imprisonment for life, and their property confiscated. Retaux de ViUette to be banished from the kingdom. The woman D'Oliva to be dismissed. Cagliostro and the Cardinal de Rohan acquitted of the acccusation brought against them. M. de Lamotte, who had escaped by flight from the judgment of the session, led a degraded and miserable life in England and in France, whither he returned in 1814. He died in Paris in the year 1831, in the month of November. The decree of the Session against Madame de Lamotte was executed on the 21st of June, 178(j. Imprisoned in the Salpetricre, she remained there six months, at the end of which she managed to escape and joined her husband in England. She died in London in 1791, at the age of thirty-four years, in con- sequence of a dreadful fall she met with in a paroxysm of raging fever. The day after the decree of the Session the Cardinal de Rohan received the king's orders to return the Cordon of the Order of the Saint Esprit, and give up his charge of Grand Abnoner. He was banished to his abbey of La Chaise Dieu in Auvergne, and afterwards to that of Marmoutier near Tours. He obtained permission sometime afterwards to return to his bishopric of Strasburg. In ISOl, after the concordat, he resigned and retired to Ettenheim, where he died the 10th of February, 1803. Cagliostro, acquitted by the Session, was, nevertheless, obliged to leave France after a confinement of nine months and a half. He took refuge in turn in England, Switzerland, and Italy. Accused at Rome before the synod of the Inquisition as an adept in Freemasonry, he was condemned to imprison- ment for life, and underwent his j)unishment at the castle of Saint Leon, where he died in 1711.5. His wife Seraphina Felioiani followed his fate, and was also condemned to imprisonment. The date of her death is not known. As for Retaux de ViUette and the woman D'Oliva, their celebrity ended with the trial about the necklace. These details are extracted from the interesting work of M. Campardon, in charge of the records of the empire, entitled, Marie Antuineitc and the Trial of the Necklace. — [Fk. Ed.] 93 CHAPTER IV. Return to Bar-sur-Aube— Measures taken to secLire my Election as Deputy — The Electors — The Grand Bailli and his Costume — General Assembly of the Three Orders — M. le Vicomte de Laval — Le Comte de Brienne — Jurisdic- tion of Chaumont — Dupont de Nemours — M. Guillaume — Nomination of GomperWe-Chevaux — My Nomination to the Etats Generaux — Reception at Bar-sur-Aube — Insurrection of Paris —Capture of the Bastille — Brigand- age — Decrees of August 4. I LEFT Paris bearing with me the famous result of the council that allotted a double representation to the Tiers Etat, and the report of the prodigious effect produced by the publication of this result in the capital. As I passed through Chalons I myself gave it to the superintendent and to the syndics of the province. The cause that had taken me to Paris could no longer be thought of ; public attention was occupied by matters of too great interest for the smallest portion to be obtained by a little quarrel between two subaltern officials in a corner of the pro- vince. Indeed people did me the honour of believing that I had made use of this quarrel as an excuse for reaching the court of M. Nocker, and of making myself known to the great man of the day. I allowed this inter- pretation to pass, because it was less ridiculous than the reality. I returned to Bar-sur-Aube to take steps for fulfilling the engagement I had made to Madame de Stael to get myself elected a deputy. Every service I could desire had been already done me ; for during and notwithstanding my absence my fellow-citizens had nominated me elector 94 LIFE AND AUVENTUEES OF COUNT BEUGNOT. for tlie assembly of tlie Bailiwick. Unluckily for me, Bar- snr-Aube did not nominate directly to the States-General. This town, that of Joinville, and their jurisdictions, joined at Chaumont, the chief place of the electoral Bailiwick. Xow at Chaumont there were circumstances unfavourable to me, for it was at the cost of the dignity of this town that I had six months before arranged the court of judica- ture at Bar-sur-Aube. Nevertheless, I had confidence in the mass of votes I brought with me ; and my hope increased when I found at Chaumont, with the same tenets and the same ambition as myself, M. Becquey, who likewise occupied at Joinville the position of syndic of the Tiers Etat.* M. Becquey was of my own age. I * Becquey, a minister of state, director-general of roads and bridges and of mines, and deputy for fifteen consecutive years of the department of the Upper ilame under the Restoration, was born at Vitry le Francjais, in 1760. Elected a member of the provincial assembly of Champagne, and general syndic of the department of the Upper Marne, he was chosen by the electors of this depart- ment to represent them in the legislative assembly in 1790. There was formed an intimacy between him and the author of these memoirs, founded on the same religious and political views, that lasted nearly forty years, and survived all changes of government. In the Assembly Becquey sat in the ranks of the Constitutionals, near Quatremere, Beugnot, Dumas, Jancourt and Ramond, supporting, sometimes at the risk of his life, the eternal principles of reason, right, and liberty, Under the Directory, his royalist feelings caused him to be chosen a member of the secret committee of Louis XVIII. This committee, whose duty was to give useful information to the King aboiit events and about men, and to pre- pare the basis of a reconciliation between the Bourbons and the nation, should a favourable occasion appear, was composed of Royer CoUard, Becquey, the able Montesquieu, the Marquis Clermont GaUerande, and Quatremere de Quincy. It was dissolved in the time of the Consulate, and Becquey betook himself to study in retirement, and did not issue from it till 1810, to take his seat in the Imperial Council of the University, by the active persuasion of Fontanes. Under the Restoration, Becquey, deputy of the Upper Marne, was appointed successively director-general of commerce, Counsellor of State, Under-Secretary of State in the Home Office, and lastly, director-general of roads, bridges, and mines. He performed these last functions for thirteen years, from the 17th September, 181G, to the I'Jth of May, 18.30, and the recollections of his administrations are still fresh in the office of the Minister of Public Works. His name remains attached to the construction of canals ordered by acts of 1821-22. In 1831 Becquey resigned his position as deputy of the Upper Marne, and M. BECQUEY. 05 had made his acquaintance in the haw courts when we were botli attending them ; and he aheady jaossessed among us youths the reputation he has preserved un- clouded to the present day, that of an upright man and one of great intellect. They all swore by him at Join- ville, and he was at least as well accredited there as I was at Bar-sur-Aube. Our coalition was induced by our respective positions. It seemed clear that by uniting the two bodies of electors of Bar and Joinville we should carry off two thirds of the votes ; and as a majority only was required for the election, it seemed certain that we should be elected, even allowing a great deal for desertions. We both w^ere too confident of it. We could not hear the names that were proposed against us without a secret joy and a good deal of apparent scorn. M. Becquey had by nature the kind of pride that preserves a man from any questionable steps. This feeling is honourable, and therefore contagious ; he had communicated it to me. Besides, we were both a little tinctured with pride at the part we had played in the provincial assembly, and we rejected as far beneath us the measures necessary, in such a case, for creating a party wliere a person has not one ; and, what is still more difficult, for keeping together one already gained. The electors of the three orders came in crowds to the General Assembly, presided over by the Baron de Mandat, the Grand Bailli of Chaumont. The Baron de Mandat was a gentleman in the fullest sense of the term, full of honour, generous even to prodigality, and satisfactory to every one except his creditors. The electors united under his leading to attend the mass of the Holy Ghost, retired completely from political life. He died at Paris on the 2ud of May IS-tn, at the age of S!) years. The characteristic of his life was unison in good, — (" Life of Becquey," by Beugnot, Paris, 1852). [Fr. Ed.] 96 LIFE AND ADVENTUKES OF COUNT BEUGNOT. a reverential and necessary preliminary to our great as- semblies. The most striking thing was the dress of the Grand Bailli — a hat with feathers, short Spanish cloak,, falling neck-tie, long sword, and rosettes in his shoes. We had not yet adojDted dresses of all shapes, given them up and taken to them again, and we were easily asto- nished at anything beyond everyday clothes ; besides, M. de Mandat was small in stature, witty and facetious, somewhat comic in character and appearance, and in his costume of Grand Bailli was not unlike Crispin in his Sunday dress. The mass was got through somehow amid all the noise. But at departure everyone rushed to see the Grand Bailli pass and enjoy his appearance. He marched with two halberdiers before him, giving blows right and left to the too curious electors. One of them was thrown down and trampled on ; the others took his part. The disturbance became violent when M. Becquey sprung into the pulpit to endeavour to separate the combatants. That was the first of innovations ; and it was another that a layman should ascend the pulpit of truth. It produced immediate effect ; the appearance of M. Becquey in the pulpit became the forie virum quern ; people left off pulling each other's hair that they might listen. Like a practised orator, M. Becquey took his audience on their weak side ; he enlarged on the dignity and inviolability of the electors, and blamed the Grand Bailli's halberdiers for having hurt this one and touched that other ; but in the name of this very dignity he begged the electors not to be so hasty in taking the law into their own hands, and to respect decorum more scrupu- lously. He engaged that the Grand Bailli would punish the zeal of his halberdiers as rather too rough. His last words were a touching exhortation to peace, confidence, and emulation, as to who should best perform the lofty functions of an elector. Unanimous applause was heard TUE ABBOT OF CLAIRv'AUX. HT in the place wliicli an instant before had echoed with shouts of anger, and everybody went home quietly. The triumph of M. Becquey was complete, and it would have seemed strange if they had not sent to the States-General a young orator so ready in calming the passions and lending to wisdom all the seductions of wdt. The three orders met in General Assembly. The king's attorney made a very long and insignificant discourse. The Grand Bailli, happily expeditious by nature, added some words, and sent off each order into its special chamber. The order of the clergy named the Abbot of Clairvanx as President, with two parochial clergy as his secretaries. The parochial clergy were by far the most numerous in this Chamber, and brought to it an unrestrained hatred of the monks and the higher clergy. Without doubt there were some honourable exceptions ; but generally these rash and very ignorant clergy had lost respect for the sacred chain that connects the different degrees of the ecclesiastical hierarchy. The}' blindly proceeded to the seizure of tithes, the abasement of the higher clergy, and the dispersion of the religious orders. Had they been left time and means they would have established Presbyterianism without wishing or knowing it. The parochial clergy had named the Abbot of Clairvaux as their president ; but loudly declared that it was only to the large fortune of the abbot that he was indebted for his selection to that honour, because he was beyond all comparison the member of the Chamber who could most splendidly represent them, that is to say, give them the best dinners. But, however good were the dinners he gave, they did not prevent their showering sarcasms on him during his presidency. He had to submit to a sort of reproaches and anti-monastic quips such as well-bred secular clergy would not have allowed themselves to use ; and no one gave less cause for this persecution than OS LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF COUNT I5EUGN0T. Dom Rocourt, the last Abbot of Clairvaux. He was a handsome, well-made man, of a refined politeness with men that approached the borders of gallantry with wo- men. An equally fortunate exterior had given him a reputation for superiority which he by no means merited. His mind was narrow ; he had little or no learning, and not the least foresight. He thought it an impossibility that they should overturn the edifice of Saint Bernard. When he saw it overthrown before his eyes he could hardly believe it, and died thirty years afterwards, stih expecting its restoration. Surely it was inhuman to persecute so simple a man ! The Grand Bailli presided over the chamber of nobles in ' virtue of his office. The Count de Choiseul d'Aillecourt and * * * were appointed secretaries. The first houses of France were represented in this assembly, but chiefly by proxy. This Chamber was not animated by any very marked design. The Duke of Orleans was the largest landowner within the bounds of the Bailiwick of Chau- mont. Pie had conferred his powers on the Viscount de Montmorency Laval. The wife of this nobleman, being- independent of him in fortune, also appeared among the landowners of this Bailiwick. Less confiding than the prince, she hail not thought it well to entrust her hus- band with the honour of representing her ; and as it was necessary for a person to possess a dehberative voice in the assembly on his own account before repre- senting anyone else, objections might have been raised to the Viscount de Laval's entrance into the Chamber. Some precisians objected to it, but the majority passed over the difficulty. The Viscount de Laval had come from the Palais Royal with full confidence that he should carry all votes with him for the Orleans party, whose noble commissary he was. He had caused to be forwarded in advance a YLSCOUXT UE LAVAL. 99 sclieme of official instructions to the depntics of tlie States-General for the district, composed by the Abb6 Sieyes, who was so unhappily lanious for his numerous concoctions of Constitutions. This sclieme had been sent to all the districts where the Duke cf Orleans had property. Besides, he broup,-ht with him a scheme of instructions by the same author for the assembly of the Bailiwick ; and in order to back him up on liis mission he was flanked by an Abbe dc Simon, one of the second- rate rogues of the Palais Eoyal, a man of spirit and audacity, presenthig in his single person all the scandals that his cloth could cover. Finally, that no provision for success might be omitted, these gentlemen brought with them a good number of decorations for a chapter of ladies, which, in truth, had as yet no existence ; but which the Duke of Orleans had a fancy to create, and the insignia of which he now began to distribute to ladies whose credit might be of service to him, in considera- tion of the urgency of the case. If to these honourable methods of persuasion be added more ordinary ones, such as dinners, balls, evening parties, promises to an}' extent, engairements that mio-lit be thoucrht sacred, and all this in the midst of a little provincial town inhabited by a poor country population, the Viscount de Laval max- well be pardoned for havhig had no doubts of success at the beginning. This nobleman was, besides, possessed of a great fund of self-confidence. Leaving his elder brother, the Duke de Laval, to be famed tor eccentric speeches, he had won renown by deeds. He had been known to hasten to the reviews of Potsdam, to kiss the boot of the great Frederic there, and then come and plume him- self on it at Paris, as if it were some heroic action, tie had, of course, brought back from this remarkable pil- grimage a permanent enthusiasm for Prussian drill and 100 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF COUNT BEUGNOT. discipline. He was irambered among the zealous for mechanical immobility, narrow ranks, and blows with the flat of the sword. He had long tormented the fine regi- ment of Auvergne, of which he was colonel, with his mania for inventions, with his caprices, and liis harsh- ness ; and as he did not make use of more than a small portion of sense, qualified that little with a good deal of insincerity, and led a loose life in other respects ; he had entirely disgusted Louis XA"I., and, as a natural consequence, was thrown into the Orleans party. Twenty years later I met him again in Germany in the service of the Emperor, and at the head of a newly-formed body, called, I tliink, the Gendarmes of Ordnance. I even was myself charged with the ^jainful mission of licensing him and his corps. If I get so far in my Memoirs 1 will nar- rate what befel him before my eyes ; and any one would be very clever to recognise the same Viscount Moirt- morency Laval that I have just described. But he was, at the time I speak of, a nobleman of the French court, polite, and of tolerably good manners, though affected. Ajiparently M. de Becquey and I had been pohited out to him as men who ought to be gained. We became acquainted at his fetes and dinners, and he asked us to come to him oner morning, as he had some- thing of consequence to communicate. AVe attended, in the expectation of some unforeseen news from Paris ; but he wanted to read to as in great state the scheme of instruc- tions of the Abbe Sieyes. Tliey ought to have given the Viscount de Laval a master in modern elocution before letting him depart upon his ujission. He read his scheme in a high key, regularly emphasizing the letter M when- ever it came next to the letter I at the beginning of a word. As the word impost obtnrded every moment in tlie discourse, the reader, gaining animation as he Avent on, improved on his method of pronouncine- it. and CHAMBER OF NOBLES. 101 ended by singing it. We were already prepared for tins, as Avell as for the contents of the tamous scheme; and thus Ave took no interest in anything but the elocution, which excited in ]M. Becquey and myself a very keen desire to laugh, which only good luck prevented from exploding. We had strength enough left to thank the Viscount do Laval for his communication, to praise the generous ideas comprised in the scheme, and to see the exhausted orator drink a glass of water ; but we had no sooner passed the threshold than we had a rare laugh at the reader and at his certainty of having penetrated us with admiration and gratitude. Xotwithstanding the pains taken by the Viscount de Laval, and the efforts of his assistants, which proceeded to almost indecorous extremities, he could never manage to gain his point in the chamber of the nobles. He was not more fortunate when he addressed himself to that of the Tiers-Etat. The situation of the Orleans party was very good, for they numbered, especially in the third chamber, a great many officers, registrars, and principal farmers of revenue, all influential men ; never- theless this party aroused a distrust that had gained all classes at Chaumont, and nothing was less calculated to allay it than the manners the Viscount de Laval had adopted there. So he got nothing by his dinners, his balls, his declamations, nor even by his Order; for he had brought up this reserve before he retreated. The lieutenant-general of the Bailiwick had admitted two canonesses at a ball. This might be regarded as a singular place for the reception of nuns ; but in every respect these were nuns only in jest. Thus far the prudence of the chamber of the nobles merited nothing but praise ; but it afterwards gave a singular proof of ingratitude by rejecting the Count de Brienne. This nobleman, worthy of respect on all sides, 102 LIFE AXD ADVENTURES OF COUNT BEUGNOT. did not share the unpopularity attaching to the name of ■his brother. It was known that if he had been a mem- ber of the same cabinet, it was because he could not avoid it ; for he had no personal ambition. A zealous and sedulous patron — the chamber of the nobles seemed, if the expression may be permitted, paved with gen- tlemen wdiom he had brought forward, for whom he had obtained appointments, and whose position he had established. It was expected that the nobility would take advantage of such an occurrence as had never before taken place, to prove their gratitude to him, and console him in private for the kind of public disgrace he had experienced ; but nothing of the sort was done. Young men were seen intriguing against him, creatures of the house of Brienne, who owed to the Count their late promotions in the lower ranks of the army ; and when I freely addressed reproaches to them, they coolly answered me, " Yes, the Count de Brienne is an excellent man ; but he is a man who is done for, and must be left quiet at home." This disloyalty was carried to such a pitch that I do not know whether this benefactor of the coun- try obtained as many voices as I did. The election fell on the Count de Choiseul d'Aillecourt, a cavalry colonel, certainly an honourable man in more than one respect ; but who did not display the talents expected of him in the National Assembly. They gave him M. Clermont d'Esclaibes as a colleague, a gentleman unknown till then, and not much better known from his presence in the Assembly. The third chamber had no decided character. A large number of the electors walked about the streets or crowded the inns, waiting to see what would be done with them. They had been called together for the purpose of naming the officials, or rather of electing the secretaries, for thfi_ Gtraird Railli's lienfpnnnf wno SCHEMES OF OFFICIAL INSTEUCTIOXS. 103 naturally presiJent. J\[. Bec(|ney and I made our first mistake by neglecting this appointment, in which we nnght have then succeeded. When the parties are not yet formed it is useful to accustom the electors to your name by this first vote. Besides, the secretaries are constantly before the eyes of the assembly ; they canvass without speaking, by no means the worst way of so doing. The secretaries being named, the assembly was divided into sections to examine the schemes of official instructions sent up from the Communes, and to prepare a scheme for the Bailiwick that should be referred to the assembly. M. Becquey and I were appointed especially to work at this, and we took great pains with it. I was not struck with anything very remarkable in the bundle of schemes that passed beneath my eyes ; though doubtless there would have been real interest in reading the simple ex- pression of the wants and grievances of the Tiers-Etat, from one end of France to the other. The best elements for composing the histoiy of the time might have been found in them ; but all these schemes had been copied from printed ones tliat were put into circulation, with some additions that were the work of the local politician. For example, the numerous communes of wdiich the Duke of Orleans was seigneur, had scrupulously copied the scheme prepared by the Abbe Sieyes and the oc- casional additions formed a strange contrast to the rest. Thus after a demand for the perfect separation of the legislative, executive, and judicial powers, the liberty of the press, trial by jury, and the abolition of all serfdom, the peasants insisted that their yard-dogs should be delivered from the clog, a sort of heavy stick that was hung to the neck of these poor brutes by orders of the lord of the manor, to hinder them from catching a hare if it should happen to be within their reach ; I say if it should happen — for dogs of this kind are not inclined 104 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF COUNT BEUGNOT. to Imnt, and rarely stray far from the houses ; but there was such a desire for the suppression of the clog that, do what I would, it remained in the scheme of instructions for the Bailiwick. Afterwards, having voted for all the liberties that had as yet been emitted by the brains of the Abb6 Sifeyes, the peasants made a further requisition to be allowed guns for their defence against the wolves. One of these schemes alone seemed to me worthy of attention ; it came from a Commune near Chateauvillain. The composer had amassed a crowd of demands more or less exaggerated, and ended with this impudent formula : " Let us give power to our deputies to request of our sovereign lord the King his consent to the jsrevious de- mands ; in case of his granting them, to give him thanks ; and in case of his refusal, to unking him." The last verb w^as underlined. I carried this scheme to the jjro- cureur du roi and declared that 1 thought it would be proper for him to denounce it to the Chamber, so that it should be excluded from the number for con- sideration, and that he should reserve the right of in- stituting a criminal prosecution against its authors and compilers. The procureur seemed angry at the dis- covery, and faithfully promised to do as J advised, but as he too was a candidate, and feared to make himself unpopular by doing his duty, the insult to the King's majesty was not taken notice of; the word transpired and was repeated ; indeed, at last, it came to be con- sidered as clever. The author had probably no notion of making anything but a wretched hon mot, and had not the least suspicion of having made a prophecy ! While I was occupied in examining the papers a powerful intrigue was being contrived against me. The city of Chaumont, a former hunting seat of the Counts of Champagne, is perched on a rock surrounded on all sides by a barren country. In order to make PERSONAL ADVENTURE. 105 the best of this unpromising- locahty, they had estab- hshed a court of Judicature, -with a very extensive dis- trict that inchided Bar-sur-Aube and Joinville. Chau- mont only existed by means of its jurisdiction. Nothing but a haw-suit couki make any one climb this rock, and the only trade was in stamped paper. So the number of counsellors, advocates, attorneys, clerks, bailiffs, and inn- keepers was vast and made up the city. Bar-sur-Aube, whose lot had fallen in a better situation than Chaumont, had endeavoured for some time to shake off the yoke of its jurisdiction, and had accomplished it for a moment through the edicts of 1788. It was known that Joinville had the same desire, and was about to be equally successful, when the edicts were withdrawn ; so Chaumont appeared to think its existence depended on not sending deputies selected from Bar-sur-Aube or Joinville to the States- General, especially any who had given their adherence to the system that had endangered its existence. It was a very prudent precaution on their part. What ought M. Becquey and I to have done then? We should have closely united the electors of Bar-sur-Aube and Joinville, and marched against those of Chaumont with colours flying. The strongest party would have gained the day, but we did not even prepare our battle array. The electors who were drawing-room company remained faithful to us, but some of that greater number crowding the inns, and whom we affected to neglect, were daily seduced from us. A personal adventure of my own also weakened our side. The commissioners for the preparation of the instructions met every evening in the refectory of the Capuchin Convent to prepare their work. This meeting gave me some confidence. The articles of the periodical meeting of the States-General, the partition of legislative power between them and the King, and the reservation 106 LIFE AKD ADVENTUEES OF COUNT BEUGNOT. of the imposition of taxes to the Tiers-Etat alone had akeady been passed. People had become used to listen to me, and I had gained authority. On that account, I fancy, a snare was prepared for me. We had come to the directions about judicature, and a member of the Assembly, the Bailli of Chateau villain, the only public officer, then asked, " AVhat is to be done with the local Parliaments?" I answered shortly and very imprudently, " Suppress them." At these words a sort of electric shock of rage seemed to take possession of the honourable members present ; they all began to threaten me in word and gesture. An advocate of Montierender, named Delassire, left his seat and rushed at me with clenched fists. I thought I was going to be sacrificed to the glory of the Parliaments. Besides, the scene took place after dinner. Madame de Sevigne has said, somewhere, that a Breton neighbour is a very bad neighbour after dinner ; a native of Champagne is not much better. All that the men who remained cool in the midst of this uproar could do, was to protect my escape, and even in the street my angry colleagues pursued me, crying out, " To Lamoi- gnon, to the high court of justice ; Oh ! the servant of Brienne," and other kind expressions, just the things to get me knocked on the head on the spot if the bravos of the party had not been busied in the inns. It will be supposed that this scene discouraged me completely, as it revealed to me the danger, or, at least, the difficulty of my position, which up to that time I had scarcely perceived. I tliought I must give up the preparation of the scheme, and also the candidature. The evening after my unfortunate adventure, I received a visit from the Bailli of Chateauvillain, who expressed his regret at having been the innocent cause of the tumult, and from some members of the Assembly, who were ashamed of w ha,t lia,d occurred- T liev ur.o-ed me DUPONT DE NEMOUES. 107 to return the next day and explain my opinion fully, assuring me that the majority would arrange so that I should be lieard with the respect due to my opinion and to my person. I had not courage to yield to them ; I retired into my tent without thinking that tlie Greeks would abstain from coming to seek me there. I was not at all necessary to the taking of Troy. I brooded over ridiculous projects of revenge against the advocate Delassire ; I wanted to send him a challenge. I was answered that the advocate Delassire was a man of sixty, who had never fought in his life, except with strokes of the pen or blows in verses, and would laugh at my proposal. I wanted to wait for him in the street and give him a good caning ; but I was strongly dis- suaded, because he was able to furnish a collective retort, so I should not have the best of the bargain. I was reduced to champ the bit alone, and only to go out from my rooms for the indispensable duty of dropping my ballot into the urn. This cowardly resolution made my affairs almost desperate. - Dupont dc Nemours once told me that he was placed in a very shnilar position at that time for the same reason. He too was a commissioner for the preparation of the schemes of instruction for the Bailiwick, and when they came to the article of the Parliaments, he voted for their suppression out of pure economy. As at Chaumont, this proposition caused most violent excitement ; but the dan- ger was greater, for the place of meeting was on the first floor ; they wanted to throw Dupont out of window, it was open, and men in the heat of passion were proceed- ing to execute this sentence of death, when Dupont per- ceived among the spectators a very corpulent man who was not interfering. He rushed at him and seized him round the body with as firm a grasp as he could. They ]€8 LIFE AND ADVEKTUEES OF COUNT BEUGNOT. could not drag him awaj'; "What in the world do you want ? " cried the fat man. " Indeed, Sir," said Dupont, " every one for himself, they are going to throw me out of window, and I intend you to act as my mattress." This appropriate and courageous jest turned anger into mirth. Dupont did not in the least retract his proposal against the Parliaments because he has never retracted anything in his life, and, what was more, he was named deputy. Perhaps I should have had the same reward if I had been brave enough to uphold my views against Delassire and Company ; but Dupont was unequalled in good-humour and braverJ^ The scheme of instructions for the Bailiwick was adopted in all its elegance, and just as it is printed, to the eternal honour of the meetings for its preparation, held after dinner in the refectory of the Capuchin Con- vent at Chaumont. The next business was the nomina- tion of the four deputies, which was done singly. The first named was the king's attorney. At this scrutiny M. Becquey had still a large number of the votes from Joinville, and I from Bar-sur-Aube ; but they supported both of us at once ; and Chaumont, which we could have conquered for one, beat us when united. The same want of sense on our side gave them a majority in the second election, as that was gained by a M. Laloi, doctor, sur- geon, apothecary, and wine-broker at Chaumont; after all, however, a good sort of man, and not wanting in sense, but of vulgar manners and destitute of education. At the third nomination we began to come to an under- standing, and the danger became pressing from the cabal at Chaumont. The notion it adopted was that of loudly demanding an agriculturist. The king's advocate and the lieutencxnt-general poured themselves out in pastorals to the best of their ability ; they, in their discourses, praised the fields, a nd the pleasure s nf the fields and t.lip M. JAUXY. 109 men of tlie fields. It was for these latter especially tliat the States-General were convoked ; sad would be the fate of the coimtry that did not send up agriculturists. The music of these pipes was soothing to the ears of the majority of the electors, and they rallied round a Isl. Moul, a farmer, who was absent from the Assembly from illness. Wherr informed of the honour conferred on him, he flatly refused, and had the good sense not to leave his plough for politics. There was still one more deputy to elect. Our party, thrice beaten, could do no more, be- cause in the war of elections, as well as any other, every defeat entailed desertions. But the cabal thought that they must come to some compromise with the electors of Bar-sur-Aube. They offered to elect a deputy from among them, provided it was not me. After much dis- cussion as to whom they should select, they united on M. Jauny, an advocate of Brienne. M. Jamiy had been for the space of twenty-five years an advocate at Paris, with- out ever having pleaded a cause or had his name men- tioned anywhere. He was among the two or three hundred poor devils of advocates that came with their long robes to Paris, with sallow countenances and un- certain steps, to fish for some bits of writing or some matter-of-course signatures requiring a fee. Never since Champagne had been called by that name had human being otfered in shape, mind, and face a more perfect type of the man of Champagne ; and the province was bound to elect him. Having retired for some years to Brienne, he had not been better received at the great house than was due to his personal amiability ; and he had made himself a member half from resentment, half from pride in his title of advocate to the Par- liament of Paris. He constituted a small opposition at Brienne composed of few members besides himself and his old female servant. That was enough for the cabal 110 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF COUXT BEUGNOT. of Cliaumont to adopt him warmly. M. Jauny, wlien without his gown, could, like some of his colleagues, find curious garments to put on his back. The clothes he wore at the assembly of the Bailiwick were not unlike the get-up of the knave of hearts ; and, as in other respects the two figures were sufficiently alike, the electors called him Quinola. This nickname re- sulted in good fortune for him. They were proceeding to the last election, and all cried out, " Up -with Quinola!" By the power of shouting, Quinola was put up, and M. Jauny elected. The cabal, thinking they had thus acceded to the wishes of Bar-sur-Aube, desired also to become recon- ciled to Joinville. They took up the notion of having a substitute named, and some electors sought M. Becquey to know wdietlier he would be willing to accept this deferred honour. He was out, and they found no one to speak to but M. Guillaume, in whose house he, like myself, lodged. I have already had occasion to mention what M. Guillaume was — that is to say, he was the man the most inclined that I have ever seen in my life to joke upon serious matters. " Gentlemen," answered our facetious host, "you do great honour to ]\I. Becquey, but I doubt if he will accept the very heavy responsibility of being a substitute ; he is not strong enough for it. You have elected M. Moul, who is said to be ill. M. Jauny can breathe, but that is all. M. Becquey is not strong. You want Gomhert tlie horses^ he could, at need, carry your whole deputation on his shoulders." Those present, among whom I was, repeated to ls\. Guillaume what had been told him a thousand times, that his jokes were always unseasonable, and that he would do better to discover M. Becquey, to let him judge for himself of the proposition made him. " No," answered M. Guillaume. " there is no time to lose. T GOMBERT THE HORSES. 11] am going tins moment, but it is to propose Gombert the liorses, and I do not come home till he is elected. It is supposed I am not a good patriot. I will show what I can do ! " In very truth, he flmig down his night-ca}), which he never pulled off except at dinner, and in his loose dressing-gown, his most usual one for the whole day, he ran into the street, visited the inns, stopped in the open places, and demanded Gombert the horses, with loud shouts ; he is the saviour of the country, and the only man that can support the deputation. M. Guillaume got numerous groups to follow and applaud him. He marched at their head to the courts where the electoral assemblies held their sittings ; he met at the foot of the stairs Gombert himself, who asked him the meanuig of his joke, and threatened to pay him wages for it on the spot. He put himself in readiness to do so, and M. Guillaume had no other way of escape but hastily to mount the stejos and take refuge in the courts. There, thinking himself secure from Gombert's marks of grati- tude, he continued more vehemently to insist on his nomination. There was surprise, laughter, at the candi- date and his proposer, the manner of the one and the dress of the t)ther. But the scrutiny was commenced : some in joke, others in earnest, threw the name of Gom- bert the horses into the urn, and he was elected. This Gombert was a man of most robust constitution — great shoulders, great head, square figure — a sort of ill-made Hercules. He had a stentorian voice, and as the rudeness of his manners was in harmuny ^\•ith the proportions of his person, the people, who distribute their quips so as to strike to the purpose, had fclt that it would not be doing him justice to call him simply Gombert the horse, and without troubling themselves with the grammatical concord of numbers, had called in 112 LIFE AND ADVENTUEES OF COUNT BE0GNOT. the plural to support what the smgular seemed too weak for. So M. Gombert was known by the extraordinary nickname of the horses. It was given to him, and he accepted it without an idea that it was any stigma. So the election of the Bailiwick of Chaumont for the States- General was made more than complete. M. Moul, as I have mentioned before, did not accept his nomination ; and it happened that, not without intending anything more than a joke, a deputy had really been named in the person of M. Gombert. He, for the matter of that, did no more and no less than the other seven deputies of the Bailiwick : not one of them spoke a word or wrote a line. The two deputies of the nobles sat on the right ; the advocate Jauny where he could be best out of sight ; the two provosts and the four deputies of the Tiers-Etat on the left. All spent three years without being seen in this assembly, and left it rather more obscure than they entered it. The strange success of the last nomination, the part M. Guillaume had taken in it, and the glory he got from it, were the cause of mirth to the guests at his house. Like men of sense, we consoled ourselves with songs. The victorious party were a little ashamed of their victory, and we made them a good deal more so. After a few days employed in hissing the play that we all had reason to be discontented with, I parted with W. Becquey, who went to spend some time with his wife's family, one of the most honourable and amiable in the province ; and, on my side, I went to my father-in-law's. It was at that time that I contracted with M. Becquey a sort of brotherhood in arms that has lasted forty years, all in kindnesses, in toucliing attentions, and generous actions on his side, and on mine in gratitude and devotion. We have often considered whether we should resfret or be thankful that -"^q ^vqtp not, hnth plpftprl to flip- IXTEEVIKW WITH MY FATHER-IN-LAW. 113 Constitutional Assembly, and at last agreed to be grateful to Providence. We were equally young, and not destitute of some ambition for renown that early and easy success had fostered in us. "Who can tell how far this former feeling might have led us astray? If we had been so unfortunate as to be praised for a first error, we should have very quickly fallen into a second. And how easy it was to go far astray. The path of illusions was so wide and attractive ! Doubtless we should have arrived with our souls honest and intentions pure ; but for that very reason we should have embraced at the commencement the cause of the Tiers-Etat that had deputed us, and at what period and how could we have separated from it ? And if we had remained attached to it, whither might it not have conducted us ? The few survivors of that time have not found out their mis- take, and M. de Lafayette, the father of the unrepentant, numbers as manv adherents of different degrees of fervour as there remain members of the left. When I reached my father-in-law's house, I had great trouble to persuade him that I was not nominated to the States-General. I told him the names of those who had prevailed ; and, as was natural, did not forget M. Gom- bert the horses. Then he became angry, and took the truth for one of those stories that his sons-in-law some- times took the liberty of telling him. When at last he was reduced to believing me, after viewing the subject on all points, he congratulated me on not having been put into such bad company. He said, " They wanted to name me also an elector for the Assembly at Langres, but gave me as companions four rustics whom I should have sent to dine in my kitchen ; so I sent them all to the devil. There is nothing I would not do to do any good, but everyone in his proper place." " Yes," re- plied I, " provided every one can stop there." " Oh, you 114 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF COUNT BEUGNOT. are always afraid. Has not the king got a liundred and fifty thousand men ? " The king's hundred and fifty thousand men were the final response of my father-in- law to all my apprehensions : he removed all doubts and closed all questions in this convenient manner. Yet I considered the little arsenal he had around him, and saw him with great plenitude of confidence continue his ancient tyranny over the inhabitants of the barony of Choiseul. I did not believe that things could remain long on the same footing. I was anxious for the personal security of my father-in-law, who was not a man to grant the slightest concession. I addressed my- self to Madame Morel. One was sure of a hearino; when one made any sort of accusation against her hus- band. I explained my uneasiness, and she must soon have shared it. I advised her to make a mild use of severe rights tliat were spoken against on all sides ; she promised me that she would work to effect this, and really did so every day at her own great risk. I also infused into lier mind certain germs of patriotism, which were so de- veloped there by the contradictions which she experienced from her husband, that at last they gave us uneasiness of quite a different nature. After having accomplished this little mission in my father-in-law's house, I returned to Bar-sur-Aube ; and jny fellow-citizens received me well. It was known that 1 had been beaten at the elections for the sake of the county, and they were grateful to me for my defeat. Besides, the man who had been preferred to me was so ridiculous that they required no explanations, but were contented with laughing. So I resumed my usual em- })loyments at the " Bureau Intermediaire," and applied myself to them more closely than ever; but the times had suddenly changed. During the previous year, confidence had widened the paths that hone seemed to onen : this MEETING OF THE STATES-GENEUAL. 115 year minds were a prey to tlie anxiety that marks the expectation of some great catastrophe. Either fear or expectation of the future devoured the present. I felt this myself; I was a partaker of the illusion that the States- General would not touch provincial assemhlies. But I saw so many other points of equal gravity questioned ; minds appeared to me so heated and so violently dis- tracted, that I felt paralysed by vague terror. Besides, my position was altered ; there was nothing more for me to do but to enlarge the sphere of my powers as much as I could, even were I to be obstructed by the super- mtendent or his delegate ; and this was just the thing to suit my youth and ardour. The depositories of any sort of authority exercised it with timitlity, or had to defend it against men who had returned Avitli an entirely novel audacity from the assembhes of the bailiwick, and already rehearsed the part they were to enact later. Every day produced virulent pamphlets against the clergy and nobihty. A design was becoming manifest of keeping the tliird estate in a perpetually increasing state of irritation ao-ainst the two other orders ; and some his- torical researches, published by well-known writers, seemed to have no other object. Amid these rumours came the period for the meeting of the States-General. Certainly all the antecedents would have been contra- dicted had this meeting proved unanimous between the three orders and respectful to the Throne. So I was prepared for, and more saddened than surprised at, the taking of the Bastille, the insurrection in Paris, the Kino^'s o-oins: to the Hotel de Ville, the discourse of IM. Bailly, and the parody on f]cce Homo by il. Lally Tollendal. When the news of the capture of the Bastille arrived at Bar-sur-Aube I feared that some castles of less im- portance would be taken, and I hastened to Choiscnl. I 2 116 LIFE AND ADVENTUEES OF COUNT BEUGNOT. As I approaclied it from Chaumont I found the scat- tered poiJulation upon the high road, and was much alarmed, but I regained confidence on seeing that every peasant had a green bough in his hand, and on hearing the discordant notes of some village fiddlers. I inquired the reason of all this rejoicing, and they told me that they expected M. Necker, who was coming to Chau- mont, or perhaps had already arrived. I quickened my steps, and learnt on entering the town that M. Necker himself had arrived and alighted at the inn of the Fleur de Lys. I hurried thither that moment and had much difficulty in getting to the inn through a crowd of people, wondering, enchanted, full of emotion and crying, with tears in their eyes, " Long life to our pre- server ! long life to our good minister ! long life to M. Necker ! " The most vigorous of the band were already prepared to draw his carriage, and I remember I was strongly affected by this scene so novel to me. I reached M. Necker, but not without many efforts and the influence of my brother-in-law who was municipal officer at Chaumont. His influence would not have been enough without the aid of a stratagem that M. Guillaume alone could have invented. He took a scrap of paper, rolled it up in his hand and raising it above the by- standers, he cried out, " Gentlemen, please let me pass, M. Necker has sent me to buy him some snuff, and here I am carrying it to him." Every one made haste without raising a doubt as to the oddity of the commission or of the messenger, and we reached the minister. I found him in the company of his daughter and Dufresne Saint Leon, Avho had been sent to fetch him. ^ I was very well received, but hardly had time to utter some words of congratulation in my emotion before they came to tell him that the Countess de Brionne had just arrived at Chaumont and had M. NECKEE. 117 entered the same hotel. The arrival of such a guest, at such a moment, disagreeably surprised both father and daughter. M. Necker said to Madame de Stael, "AVe must ask if she will see us." My brother-in-law under- took the mission and returned saying, that Madame de Brionne would be ready in a moment; this moment was ■one of anxiety. ]\I. Necker soon passed with Madame de Stael into Madame de Brionne's rooms. My brother- in-law, who was present at the scene, told me that she received them in their triumph with calm dignity. Con- versation was immediately commenced on the causes that had determined ^Madame de Brionne to retreat so speedily. She answered M. Necker, " Sir, it was all that is going on at Paris, to which your presence will put a stop, at least I hope so; you will have much to do." And as Madame de Statil expressed her regret that Madame de Brionne had decided so speedily, 4she answered, " Madame, yours is an age of confidence and a moment of good fortmie. Enjoy your father's triumph ; no one can be more desirous for its perma- nency than I am ; but allow me to pass to the gates of France, to await the issue of all this." And they parted with professions on the one side respectful, on the other cool, and somewhat displeased. When these illustrious travellers left Madame de Brionne's rooms their means of departure, or rather the instruments of their triumph, were prepared. Between the palms, the crowns, the musicians, the men who were harnessed to the carriage, the joyful cries of all the l^opulation, they had only time to give me some tokens of interest. M. Necker and his daughter, while they seemed affected even to tears, but embarrassed with these honours, yielded themselves up to them, probably in order not to waste time. And who would have told me that hardly two years would have passed before, not 118 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF COUNT EEUGNOT. far from Cliaumont and again in an inn, I should have- great difficulty in defending M. Necker from the insults of the same people who now harnessed themselves to his car ? How many times in my life has this sorrowful compai'ison struck my thoughts ! Madame de Brionne, of whom I have just spoken, had been one of the most beautiful women of her time, and the dignity of her character had preserved her from the dangers that would have surrounded her beauty. She had borrowed nothing from her times but what she could not refuse without seeming ridiculous, and, above all, she had remained a great lady to the full extent of the words. Before the Revolution she had been intimate with the Abbe de Perigord, who was Bishop of Autun, and was himself celebrated for the extent and elegance of his intellect, but beneath it concealed a great stock of family pride that has not yet left him. It was a title to admission with Madame de Brionne. At the time of the first insurrection in Paris the Bishop of Autun, a deputy of the States-General, learnt that Madame de Brionne was on the point of making her escape. He hastened to her. "Why this hasty resolution, Madame?" "Because I do not wish to be a victim, nor to witness scenes that horrify me." " But must you leave France for that ?" " Well, where would you like me to go ? " "I do not advise you to remain in Paris because you are alarmed, nor even to retire to one of your estates ; but go and spend some time in a little provincial town where you are unknown ; live there without making yourself remarkable, and no one will discover you there." "A Httle provincial town — • oh, M. de Perigord, I can be a peasant if you please, but never a bourgeoise." The expression is worthy of a Rohan, the widow of a prince of the house of Lorraine. M. DILLON. 119 At the moment I write we have no more aristocracy, its language is lost. Yet it is well to preserve some of these expressions of a lofty insolence that are like medals stamped with the spirit of the age. The last Archbishop of Narbonne was Dillon, nominal uncle of all those Dillons that we have seen making their way in the world with their names and fine fio-ures as their whole fortune. He liimself was a man of five feet six or seven inches, well made, with a large chest, the bent of whose inclinations, the air of whose head, whose gestures and voice testified to natural superiority. His most apparent fault was an inordinate love of hunting. Louis XV. blamed him for it at his levee. M. de Dillon was then no more than Bishop of Evreux, but his hunting equipments were the scandal of Normandy. " JSly lord bishop, you are a great hunter," said the king to him, " I know something about it. How can you forbid your priests from hunting if you spend your life in setting them an example of it?" "Sire, for my priests hunting is their own vice, in my case it is that of my ancestors." The same M. Dillon, when appointed Archbishop of Narbonne, put no restraint on his tastes, and his expenses had soon put his affairs in disorder. It came to the knowledge of Louis XVL that he was very much in debt. This prince, a lover of order, and dis- mayed by the sad example just given by the Prince de Guemenee, preached economy and payment of debts from morning till night. One day he said to M. Dillon, "My lord archbishop, they say that you are in debt, and very deeply?" "Sire," answered the prelate, "I will ask my steward about it and have the honour of informing your majesty." There is no place in society at present for the feeling that dictated these haughty answers, which are not understood by the descendants of those who made them, for the middle classes have 120 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF COUNT BEUGNOT. extended over the next not only their power, but their thoughts, and fashions, and language. I met a good number of persons on the road and imparted to them the joyful news of the passage of M. Necker through Chaumont, and they everywhere seemed delighted at it. They were there only curious to know what had been passing at Paris. I gave satisfactory infor- mation, and crowned it by that of the return of M. Necker, whom I had met at Chaumont. They wanted to know if I had really seen him ; I declared it as solemnly as I could, and all the rest of the day they kept coming to the house to see a man who had seen M. Necker. AVhat a calm followed his return, at least in the province where I dwelt. Yet I was not without anxiety how to preserve my father-in-law's mansion from insult, and made my wife and sister come thither. Both were beloved by the peasants, for they were never tired of interced- ing for them. My wife especially was beloved, and even after her marriage they called her nothing but our good young lady. The ladies arrived, laughed at my apprehensions, and their presence attracted society to the house. Confidence was established, and I was delighting in the happiness of the life we led there while Paris was so cruelly rent, when a piece of intelligence that burst on France like thunder destroyed our security — that of the brigands. One beautiful evening we were quietly eat- ing our supper, with a number of guests, when a labourer from Choiseul arrived in great agitation to tell us that the brigands were spreading over the country, and were ad- vancing on the house to sack it. Everyone cried out, " But how about the brigands, where do they come from?" I did not extend my inquiry thus far, and only wanted the labourer to say whether he liad seen these brigands ; he stated that he had recognised one band passing the wood KEPORT OF BEIGANDS. 121 of Montot, another the wood of Penneciere, two small woods not far from the house. I began to beheve the more because this labourer did not want for sense, and was a confidential man about the house. I\I. Morel, per- suaded of the truth of the story, did not wish to lose time in deliberation. His ancient courage was ready, quite perfect ; he ordered the guns to be loaded, and showed me that the arsenal I had so nmcli derided was not too large now. He sent out three men as scouts, one on the hill of Saint Nicholas, at the back of the house, and the two others on the roads to the woods of Moutot and Pemreciere, with orders to retire to head- quarters on the first appearance of the brigands. He lined the two approaches to the chateau with armed men, and reserved to himself the central position, from which .all orders should issue. He allowed me to remain with him and act as chief of the staff. When his arrange- ments were made he caused a good allowance of brandy to be served out to all the company, and informed the ladies that they must be pleased to go down into the cellar on the first shot. I cannot help laughing when I think of their anxiety — they would have much preferred to depart from the position menaced with a siege. They iimidly made the proposal to M. Morel, but he saw nothing but difficulties and dangers in their departure. Besides, when once the plan of defence was determined on, the old soldier was easy and left the rest to fortune. The night passed without the scouts falling back, or the guard being attacked, or the chief of the staff having an order to give, or the ladies descending to the cellar. Next morning they laughed heartily at their own fright, and the military preparations of the evening before. But ]\L Morel thought it would not be prudent to re- move the defences. It was true that the brigands had not appeared at the points named the night before, but to 122 LIFE AND ADVENTUEES OF COUNT BEUGNOT. tliey had incontestably aiopeared, and Avitli effect, in the neighbourhood. Mansions that had been burnt were mentioned, an