pf/’^ F ^3??I WoMjLh ; 1 • :: *!i$£« j\^ ~A ' S* ■ „■•* I HOYT GOLLEGTION OF FRENCH HISTORY PRESENTED TO THE UNIVERSITY OF NORTH CAROLINA LIBRARY BY WILLIAM HENRY HOYT 9UU.05 P366n v*l Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2019 with funding from University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill https://archive.org/details/napoleonormyster01peck 5 NAPOLEON OR, THE MYSTERIES OF THE HUNDRED DAYS, AN HISTORICAL NOVEL, BY MRS. FECK, AUTHOR OF THE “BARD OF THE WEST .’ 7 VOL. I LONDON: PUBLISHED BV SIMPKIX AND MARSHALL, STATIONERS-COURT, AND WESFLEY AX D TYRRELL, S ACK VI L LE-STRE E T, DUBLIN. . / * - _ Stobertfetmtitt 4 When this work was commenced, the Author had no idea, that the Title, nor any part of it, should have been taken by another person—however, it appears, that a book, bearing a title somewhat similar, namely, “ The Hun¬ dred Days” has been published by ?3(oU VI. ADVERTISEMENT. Mr. Hobhouse. The Author, has not seen this production ; but takes it for granted, that it is of a nature entirely different from the present work ; there¬ fore, cannot, in any way, interfere with her designs, or object; which are to amuse, and inform, those readers, who prefer facts, dressed up by the imagina¬ tion , to dry and tedious narrative. The Decameron of Boccaccio , gave the idea of naming this Melange, “ The Hundred Days.” The “ Decameron ,” was founded on the occupation, and amusement of u Ten Days” during the plague at Florence: these anec¬ dotes of the Cent Jours , are founded, principally, on the situation of affairs ADVERTISEMENT, VII. In France, previous to, and during the period, in which Napoleon was amus¬ ing the French, from the time of his return from Elba, to his defeat at Wa¬ terloo. ' . •• • • . PREFACE. It is usual;, previous to the reader’s entering upon the subject which is submitted to his consideration, that the writer should offer something by way of introduction ; explanatory of the nature and tendency of the work, which is to come under his perusal—and whose decision of its merits or demerits, depends more upon the sensations which X. PREFACE. it creates in the mind, than upon any intrinsic value which the thing may possess in itself. The strange events which have taken place in Europe, during the reign of Napoleon , warrant the writer of fiction, to make use of their aid in illustrating the human character, by decorating simple facts, with the drapery of fancy ; for in many respects, the Tales of the Genii have been outdone, by the almost supernatural exploits, of the LATE CONTROLLER OF THE FATE OF NATIONS. Some mysterious circumstances , have been introduced into the body of the following work, which may surprise the reader, in the first instance : but these are in a good degree developed, XI. PREFACE, and explained by the conclusion. The anecdotes of the Dauphin , real, or pre¬ tended, as the character may have been —are borne out by the history of the times ; and where fancy has, in any instance, out-stepped the boundaries of mere truth, it has not, however, cros¬ sed the pale of probability. The other personages who have been introduced to the notice of the reader, have been—and many of them still are —living characters who have seve¬ rally acted, the parts assigned them, in the busy scenes, of those restless times. The main circumstances, said to have attended the public career of those per- >sonages ; are strictly true: which it is * See Fragment, XU. PREFACE. hoped, will be deemed a sufficient apo¬ logy for suppressing real names : the reader, however, may amuse himself by the exercise of his own imagination, in finding out the originals. The object of the writer, being to display human nature, as a moral lesson—not to wound the feelings of individuals, unnecessa¬ rily , by any personal application of the vices too common in the higher ranks of life. INTRODUCTION. The state of all Europe, and the situation of the principal Hero of these memoirs, at the period to which they refer, afford a sufficient ground¬ work for the exercise of fancy, as well as for the mere record of facts. The Book lately published by Mr. O’Meara, may have its peculiar in¬ terest, but that can be only as far as XIV. INTRODUCTION. relates to the immediate political con¬ cerns of the high contending parties, who have been engaged in deciding the fate of Europe—if, indeed, that fate should be yet decided. The author of the following Work, has had an object different from that which any political feeling could excite—namely to enter¬ tain those who read, as the French say, pour passer les terns; and she hopes that her present labour has not been in vain. It may not be amiss to state, that the Author having been resident in, France, at the period which astonished all Eu¬ rope, by the return of Napoleon from Elba—she had an opportunity of being made acquainted with many particulars, which are not generally known ; and INTRODUCTION. XII. which can scarcely fail of exciting* a lively interest. How she has succeeded in making use of these materials—which have been gained by some trouble, and inquiry—she must leave to the opinion of those who compose her readers—to whose candour the work is submitted, by their Obliged Servant, THE AUTHOR. Dublin, 1st June, 1826. P. S.<—The Author has to tender her unfeigned thanks, for the very favourable reception, which her last XVI. INTRODUCTION. Work, “The Bard of the West” ox “ Ned of the Hills, met with from the public, both in this country, and in England. * It may be proper to state, that the Irish Na¬ tional Tale, of <( The Bard of the West,” is founded on some curious documents, left by the late Pro¬ vost Andrews, of Trinity College , Dublin; which throw a light on Irish History—and that part of these papers, came into the Author’s pos¬ session through her mother, who was niece to the learned Doctor. A FRAGMENT. Churchill was right, when he composed the following couplet:— Cursed be the man, whom fate ordains in spite, And cruel parents, teach to read and write ; Aye, and doubly cursed the Woman , who is so ’ taught. What have women to do with such things ? Why should they set up either for philosophers, historians, or poets ? It is true, to get a little money for certain necessary oc¬ casions—a woman may be induced to venture XViii. A FRAGMENT. on a silly Novel, or a play : but if they should be d—m—d, how can she help it ? It may be all accident: the party was not sufficiently strong—or she had not money to pay for puffs ; or she was growing old, and getting out of fashion—or, perhaps, the thing itself had not even novelty to recommend it:—or what is worse than all, it might happen that Truth was blended with the story. An Author, indeed, is sometimes like a fortunate General, the first success , is every thing : at least covers a multi¬ tude of after errors. When I was in Italy, I had the following conversation with Madame de Stael ; which conformable to the example of “ Waver ley (with all due humility,) I shall lay before my readers, in a dramatic form. * * * * m | T* ■% | i . f * C t 1 I * *t f", ~ * * * # * * “ Prefatory letter, from the Rev. Doctor Driasdust, of York." i( Peveril of the Peak,” Vol, I . A FRAGMENT. XIX. Madame de Stael, (pointing to a large roll of papers, in the hands of the person she addres¬ sed ; and bowing her head) Dear Madam, of this long induction, hereafter ; let me look into the MS. of which you desire my opinion. Author. Madame l 1 beg your pardon for wearying you all this while, with the prefatory part ; but as my romance, history, or novel, (which you please to call it,) is founded on Truth ; and as you are the very mother of our art, in this age of elegant inquiry ;|| and have vouchsafed me a hearing; I thought it might not be considered breaking the bounds, to skim the cream of the narrative, in the first in¬ stance ; or in other words, to give you a peep behind the curtain, before the commencement of the drama. 'ip i*| -»i ;i (H Id ' • - r 1 m • ' f| , rif’usp || See Madame de StaeVs , popular Novel of “ Corinne It is an elegant abridgment of the history of Italy. XX, A FRAGMENT. Madame de Stael. (Looking half-arch, half-earnest.) I understand. You mean to say, that this Novel, is a painting from real life, and no fiction ; and that according to Lord Byron, who it is said, was always the Hero of his own Tale ; you are, perhaps, the Heroine of yours, i > _ - . * • * * i r r . > . i « . > ■ * ' Author. Not so, Madamel Though I do not affect less self-love than other authors, for the child of their brain ! But, the history of an humble individual, such as I am ; would by no means suit the present taste for excitement !! To attach interest to a novel, in these days, a poor scribbler like myself, must hold out some great personage, or personages ; of sufficient notoriety, without the aid of colouring ; to keep the reader in a state betwixt sleeping , and leaking —a state which 1 deem favourable in an especial manner, to that philosophy, which seeking sqme enjoyment, will “ chew the sweet A FRAGMENT, XXI. and bitter cud of fancy f without considering, critically , the objections which might be urged against it. Madame de St a el —at once, entered into my meaning. She fixed her eyes on me, with an expression of surprise, in her countenance ; and without speaking, leaned back in her easy chair, as if she had suddenly fallen into a mus¬ ing mood—such as I have described ; which I conceived to be a quiescent permission for me, to continue my preface —so I went on, ex plaining a combination of circumstances, relat¬ ing to the aforesaid Novel . During this long round about story ; (for I was particular to give time and place, for every thing I advanced,) I could perceive, that Madame de Stael , closed her eyes in good earnest, and seemed to doze; however her understanding was wide awake ; for when I XXII. A FRAGMENT. mentioned the name of Beaufort , with an anx¬ ious expression in her looks, she started up! She still bent on me an eye of inquiry ; and after a moment, said, “ I did hear something of that family by letter. I did hear that a re¬ port was current in Ireland, that Mr . Beaufort , (the literary Nob, whom you pourtray in your Novel,') was actually the distinguished, but unfortunate Lord -, was it not so ?” To which question, I answered in the affirma¬ tive, with all deference and modesty. Madame de Stael. (After a pause.) The unhappy affair, which cut him off from his country, and his friends ; was much to be de¬ plored. Author. It caused a strong sensation, in¬ deed ! But, he fled from England, to Ireland ; and taking the name of Beaufort, took sanctua¬ ry in the family of a worthy Clergyman, who A FRAGMENT, XX111. kept a highly respectable classical boarding school at * * ' * * * * * * by whom he was engaged as an assistant, at a liberal salary ; although he had announced himself only as a mere stranger ; and brought with him, no other re commendation, than his own respectable ap¬ pearance, polished manners, and cultivated in¬ tellect. Madame de Stael. What a romantic story ! * ./ * ... ■ Author. Yet, these are no fictitious adven¬ tures. As a professed scholar, he more than fulfilled the expectations entertained of him ; and endeared himself so much, to the young students under his care, by his superior knowledge , and address; that the father of one of these youths, (an Irish Nobleman of great worth,) feeling grateful to him for some xxiv. A FRAGMENT. kind attentions he had bestowed on his son; and wishing to cultivate the acquaintance of such a man ! invited him to pass the Christ¬ mas recess with him, at his seat in the County of- . Mr. Beaufort , accepted the invita¬ tion : and the late Duke of R-, (then Viceroy in Ireland,) happening to come into that neighbourhood, on a shooting party ; he called to pay his respects to Lord-. His Grace was in Cog , and his arrival was quite unexpected. He entered the house, sans c6r6mo7iie ; and was conducted into the library, where his noble friend, and Mr. Beaufort , were sitting. The Duke instantly recognized the latter; and in a transport of joy, exclaimed, “ Oh, my dear William, is it here I find you ?” They embraced affectionately ; but Mr. Beau - fort, instantly took his Grace aside, and whis¬ pered something in his ear, which prevented any further explanation. However, the Duke, continued to treat him, as an equal. His Grace A FRAGMENT. XXV« seemed much agitated, and did not stay long ; but before he took his leave, had been closeted more than hour, with Mr. Beaufort. Immedi¬ ately, after this event; that mysterious man , having resigned his employment; withdrew him¬ self from the house of the before mentioned clergyman ; and joined his wife, and daughter ; who had followed him from England ; and re¬ sided in privacy, at the adjoining town of Por- tarlington ; where he had fixed them, for the purpose of being near him. They lived there, quite retired for several years ; during which time, Mr. Beaufort , (who now devoted himself entirely, to his literary pursuits,) it was said, edited a Philosophical Magazine , which had a great run ; and was also the Author of several Works on Science, of high repute. Madame de Stael. I remember quite well; for as an Author , he was, perhaps, better known on the Co7itinent y than even at Home ! XXVI. A FRAGMENT. But, if I recollect right, he died at * * * * and in the lines of the British Poet, “ He left a name at which the world grew pale, To point a moral, or adorn a tale.*’ Author. Yes, Madame ! He died of a broken-hearty after his daughter; who in the bloom of youth, beauty, and accomplishments, was carried off suddenly by, some say, the bursting of a blood-vessel .At all events, she caught a fatal cold one night, in consequence of sitting at an open-window, in a heat. i. *t C i . JOiO '!> 't'\ I t l a , ..Li', Madame de Stael. Alas! how untoward was the destiny of both!! for I have been informed, that his daughter was no less cele¬ brated for her acquirements, than Mr. Beaufort himself; who is allowed to have been a man of the most profound, and extensive learning. Author. His daughter! was indeed, a A FRAGMENT. xxvii. rara avis. She was a perfect Linguist , a Painter, and a Musician ! But, she had been educated, it was said, for o, particular purpose , which remains a mystery l However, certain it is, after this young lady had completed, the course of her studies, which she did at a very early age ; the family, in a private way, left the little town of Portarlington, in Ireland, (the place of their residence) without informing any person, whither they went; and it was some¬ what remarkable, that at this period, a very novel exhibition of Experimental Philo¬ sophy, on mathematical principles , was brought forward in Dublin, which made a great noise in the world !! What this was, will be explained in the course of the work, to which it refers; suffice it to say, it puzzled every one, who saw it! and was successfully exhibited, not only in Dublin, London, and Edinburgh; but throughout all the principal cities in Europe, and America. XXViii. A FRAGMENT. It is to be observed, that the proprietor and inventor of this curious experiment , kept him¬ self unknown; but, from certain leading cir¬ cumstances , it has been attributed, by the best informed on the subject, to the masterly pow¬ ers of the late Mr Beaufort , who was one of the greatest Mathematicians of his day ! In a word, after an absence of about eight, or nine years; during which time, he had travelled a great deal, accompanied by his daughter; they returned to Ireland, in affluent circumstances. However, Mr. Beaufort , was still under a cloud; and lived quite retired, as formerly. Neither did his daughter mix much in society ; she seemed rather melancholy ; and it was generally understood, that when at Vienna, with her father; she had met with a very Extraordinary Personage — a Frenchman: to whom she became attached. More did not transpire, till Mr. Beaufort and his daughter , went again on the Continent; where she, as A FRAGMENT, XXIX. already related., found an early grave. * * * * But, the history of this singular young fe¬ male, who it appears, was neither maid , wife , nor widow ! ! is given in our Novel; and in the denouement, it will be found, that the Heroine of this tale of fancy , was the celebrated ' NAPOLEON &c. ERRATA. VOL. I.— Fragment, Page 25, line 3.—For “than hour,” read “ than an hour.” Page J 2, line 23.—For “ Hoc ionte derevataclodes,” read “hoc fante derivata cla- des .” Page J01, line 8.—For “sololiquy,” read “solilo¬ quy.” Page 140, line 19.—For “one one occasion,” read “ on one occasion.” Page 230, line 21.--For “ aunlnled,” read “ an¬ nulled.” Page 264, line 24.—For “ thonght,” read “ thought NAPOLEON, &c. CHAPTER I. And lives the man, whose universal eye Has swept at once th’ unbounded scheme of things Mark’d their dependence so, and firm accord, As with unfaltering accent to conclude That this availeth nought ? Has any seen The mighty chain of beings, lessening down From infinite perfection to the brink Of dreary nothing, desolate abyss! From which astonish’d thought, recoiling, turns ? Till then alone let zealous praise ascend, And hymns of holy wonder, to that pow’r, Whose wisdom shines as lovely on our minds, As on our smiling eyes his servant sun. Thornton. retreat of the Emperor Napoleon to Elba, having opened the dawn of tranquillity to Europe, many English and Irish families of dis¬ tinction, took the opportunity of visiting the French Capital; to enable them to form, by actual observation, a closer opinion of the real 2 NAPOLEON ; state and character of a people, whose convul¬ sions and revolutions, for the comparatively short space of five-and-twenty years, stand unique in the history of the world. Amongst these distinguished visitors, were some, who demand our more immediate atten¬ tion ; as more intimately concerned in the scenes, which constitute the materials of this narrative. To exhibit vice and folly, in their own native deformity, is a very effectual mode of suppres¬ sing them, and collecting on their hapless vota¬ ries, the sneers and reprobation of society : though the contrary is but too much the prac¬ tice of many of our modern poets and painters, who strain every effort to dress them up, in all the gaudy drapery and seductive attractions, of which fertile, and perhaps, rather congenial ima¬ ginations are so capable; to the great injury of the community, and the utter ruin of the young and heedless. In the following sketches, of the scenes, which led to the catastrophe of “ The Hundred Days ” of Napoleon, the progress of female de- OR THE MYSTERIES OF THE HUNDRED DAYS. 3 pravity will be unfolded, and traced through all its mazes and convolutions ; and its successes and failures, ever various, often doubtful, illus¬ trated ; so as to prove, that every deliberate act of vice has its spring, and origin, in some base passion or guilty feeling, cherished and incited by avarice and vanity. Lady Belinda Haut-ton, was the eldest daugh¬ ter of the Earl of-, whose high political character, as well as his family dissentions, are still fresh in the memory of every person, who has read the history of the last century. We shall not, therefore, say much of the qualities which marked the parentage of the first heroine of these memoirs ; Jet it suffice, to inform the reader, that her birth was noble , and her education such as generally possessed by young ladies of high rank and ordinary capa¬ city ; that is-showy, volatile, and super¬ ficial ; without an iota of the sound, solid, or instructive: it subdued no passion, corrected no folly, it fanned her head, without mending the heart: it seemed to have totally disregarded those principles of candour, generosity, and B 2 4 NAPOLEON ; moral feeling which add lustre and sweetness to female charms ; and abandoned our hero~ ine to the uncontrouled sway of vanity, affecta¬ tion, and self-will. But, in the education of daughters, the Haut-tons are proverbially sin¬ gular; differing from all the discreet and sedate portion of mankind, in every essential particu¬ lar of that most important duty: sacrificing all social virtue, and domestic endearment, to the glaring and sickly dissipations, so prevalent in w T hat is called high life : where we often see, truth, candour, and sincerity, superseded by craft, dissimulation, and hypocrisy ; and the fountains of true happiness corrupted. Ano¬ ther peculiarity of the Haut-tons , in this respect is, their passion for male instructors. Instead of a moral and accomplished female, which class is numerous, and there are many of them in need of employment and support; a gay Lothario or Abelard, is procured, who delivers lectures, if not on the charms of melody, at all events on those of love ; and betimes forms the taste and talent of his fair pupil, for the more agreeable pursuits of intrigue and gallantry. OR THE MYSTERIES OF THE HUNDRED DAYS. 5 This practice has too often the natural, if not the desired effect; it is often the source of sorrow and degradation, to the inexperienced victim ; and of merited chagrin and shame to this high family. But the Haul-tons will have their way. To the casual observer, lady Belinda appear¬ ed very beautiful: figure, feature, symmetry and grace were exquisite, and no art or inge¬ nuity was spared to heighten their effect—to give them the most towering ascendency ;—to cast all rival beauties into the shade—and to fix the gaze, and admiration of the astonished beholder. Success far exceeded the fondest expectation. With all this specious and attractive exterior her Ladyship possessed not one single amiable or estimable quality of the mind—low, artful, vindictive ; fair as an angel without, but within as black as Erebus ! But the Haut-ton family took no trouble to observe, or correct, the native foibles and propensities of their daughter : and while all due care was taken to render Lady Belinda, the object of exclusive admiration, 6 NArOLEON ; in the false and fugitive glare of high life, her mind was suffered to continue an uncultivated waste, and under the remorseless sway of the bad passions. Now in the sixteenth year of her age, no wonder her personal charms brought her many admirers : and having attracted the particular attention of a gentleman of great fortune, but still greater merits, the Noble Earl, condes¬ cended to bestow his favourite child, without any fortune, however, on the happy Commoner: thus mixing for sake of this world’s wealth, the noble blood of his ancestors, with that which he conceived to be little better than plebean. The new married lady, made her debut as a wife, by appearing at the Irish Court, at a birth- night ball, in the latter end of the year 1782 : ever memorable to Ireland—as the dawn of her independence , and sera of her liberty. The Duke of Rutland held, with a feeble grasp, and trembling hand, the reins of administration : while his young and beautiful Duchess, led the gay and giddy world, through all the mazes of fashion, and folly ! Of her select parties, our Oil THE MYSTERIES OF THE HUNDRED DAYS. 7 heroine, generally made one ; and at the pub¬ lic and private amusements of the then half mad metropolis, which the Duchess resorted pour passer les terns ; her Grace was accompa¬ nied by Lady Belinda Haut-ton ! But, here, let it be observed in justice , to the amiable, but young, and unthinking Duchess, that Lady Belinda soon outstepped the bounds prescribed by the rules of the Irish Court; and was of course no longer considered a proper guest, or welcome visitant; of this she received intima¬ tion, from the Master of the Ceremonies, in a private way ; and she withdrew from the frolic- scene, to pay a visit, for the first time, to the mother of her husband, who had a delightful, but retired residence in the County of W-. During the short sojourn of the lady, with her mother-in-law, she assumed various airs of self¬ consequence, and affectation ; and proved that, nymphs of quality do not, in general make the best wives. On one occasion, a circumstance occurred which may be thought not quite un¬ worthy of note ;—Lady Belinda imagined she found it necessary to make use of a celebrated 8 NAPOLEON ; patent medicine. The old lady, feelingly alive to the happiness of her son ; remonstrated with her daugther-in-law, under the impression that, she might be in the family-way : who can ima¬ gine the horror and amazement of the old gen¬ tlewoman, when Lady Belinda, declared that* “ if she thought it were the case, she would take a double dose !” This opened the eyes of Mrs. H-, to her true character; and the lady soon after took her departure, with full consent, from the house of her venerable and afflicted relative. Shortly after this event, her fond, and too indulgent husband, finding his fortune quite insufficient to support the lady in her unbound¬ ed extravagance, deemed it expedient to re¬ monstrate ; which he did in very gentle terms, in the first instance : but, his very dear spouse, seemed highly incensed, at what she termed his “ cruel treatment of a young creature like herself,” who had made so many sacrifices ; and had relinquished her proper rank in society, by descending to form a connexion so much Oil THE MYSTERIES OF THE HUNDRED DAYS. 9 beneath her. The husband listened with great patience ; and when Lady Belinda had exhaust¬ ed herself, he took out his watch, and said, “ he would allow her three hours , to consider whether she could live on what he could afford heradding that, “ if she could not bring her¬ self properly to perform the duties of a wife, she should have £500 per annum to live as she liked best.” In the true spirit of the Haut-tons , her ladyship emphatically replied, that 44 it did not require three minutes to decide ; and that she took him at his word.” Accordingly arrangements were made for a final and perpetual separation, and Lady Belin¬ da took leave with all imaginable sang frout , or rather pleasure, of husband, parents, family and friends—nay, of her native land. She felt a depraved delight in being emancipated from the duties of her station, and from all those res¬ traints which delicacy and decency would im¬ pose : and being excluded the circles of the Irish Court, and of course, all fashionable society here, she set off direct to Paris, where 10 NAPOLEON ; she found all that sort of dissipation, so perfect¬ ly agreeable to her taste and character, and which she enjoyed with a goilt that' proved her a true votary of pleasure. OR THE MYSTERIES OF THE HUNDRED DAYS. 11 CHAPTER II. Above the smoke and stir of this dim spot , Which men call earth, and with low-thoughted care Confin’d, and pester’d in this pinfold here, Strive to keep up a frail and feverish being, Unmindful of the crown that virtue gives. Milton , Comus. A. 1. In the preceding Chapter, we have given the reader an outline of the birth, education, natural and acquired endowments of Lady Belinda Haut-ton —her marriage, separation, and departure for the French Capital. As the scene changes to so novel and interesting a theatre, and assumes a character quite different from those in which our heroine, has heretofore so conspicuously figured, we shall now give a faithful account of her Ladyship’s adventures, during her residence among that volatile and voluptuous people. 12 NAPOLEON ; The French Court, at this period, (1783) presented a picture of human weakness, misery, and depravity, unparalleled in the history of the world : an oppressed and overborne people; an arbitrary and dissolute government: a cor¬ rupt clergy, and profligate aristocracy ; who all severally let their vices loose, like Pandora’s box, on the devoted nation ; with scarce a ray of hope remaining, and exercised their rapacity, and cruelty, without mitigation, or remorse! Law, liberty, and religion, had taken flight and were no where to be found! Anarchy and impiety stalked abroad, spreading bond- dage and desolation over the land. The enslav¬ ed and plundered population, agitated with discontent and despair, and inflamed with ven¬ geance, exhibited the bodings of that awful re¬ action ; that tremendous retribution, which has astonished the world, and should never cease to be the monitor of tyrants. Irreligion is the source of the vices; and these of every public and private calamity ; “ Hoc lonte derevata clodes, i( In patriam populumque fluxit,— Hor. OR THE MYSTERIES OF THE HUNDRED DAYS. 13 At this lamentable period, religion and mora¬ lity were chased from all fashionable societies, by the too much admired writings ofVoltaire, Rousseau, Diderot, D’Alembert, Piron, Grimm, &c.,*who, under the false name of philosophy, extinguished every principle of virtue, and all sense of moral obligation: while on the other hand, the example of the higher orders, gave a sort of sanction to the middle classes to indulge in the pursuit of every vice ; which the quick invention of the French, had now brought to the very acmb of perfection, by a refinement un- known to other countries. Lady Belinda Haut-ton , on her arrival in Paris, had formed a connexion with a set of characters, who were, if possible, still more depraved than those who composed the different circles of fashion, immediately within the vortex of the Court. Some of these, it is true, were occasional visitants there : and others had situa¬ tions and employments, which gave a sort of * For an account of these Philosophers of the Infidel School see Addenda. 14 NAPOLEON ; sanction to their periodical appearance in the presence of the King and Queen.—But, gay and thoughtless, as might have been the beau¬ tiful and ill-fated Maria Antoinette , she kept at a proper distance the female black-legs and the demi-reps of quality , who had now flowed into that reservoir of vice, from every country in Europe. Amongst those with whom Lady Belinda Haut-ion , had formed an acquaintance, was the celebrated Countess D' la Motte , of necklace memory ; who, at the period we mention, kept a private faro-bank, in the Rue St. Jaques.— Here the fashionables of all nations, then at Paris, held nightly revels. Independent of gaming, they indulged in every species of pro¬ fligate dissipation, for which the French capital was then so notorious, and even introduced such refinements in vice, as, on reflection, shock decency. This sort of contraband trade, con¬ tinued, we may say, during the entire of the eventful reign of Louis XVI. and Maria Antoi¬ nette ; and it was only the tempest of the Revo¬ lution itself, which dispersed Lady Belinda, and OR THE MYSTERIES OF THE HUNDRED DAYS. 15 her party; and forced them to seek safety in their native land. Lady Belinda was informed of the death of her husband, soon after her arrival in London; and having passed the season at Bath, this votary of fashion, found herself reduced to the utmost necessity, by her improvident profu¬ sion, and extravagance. Being related to the Duchess of——, she naturally applied to that lady for aid, which was promptly and kindly granted; a subscription was also set on foot, ( « r t • • r 0 amongst the nobility, for the complete re-estab¬ lishment of the fair adventurer. Can it be insisted, that the cold inert thing called pity, had all the merit of the success that attended this scheme ? Or should not far the greater part, if not the entire, be attributed, to love and gallantry ? Lady Belinda’s charms were now the theme of all circles ; and the appeal of rank, fashion, and fascinating beauty in distress, is ever irresistible. Be the true cause what it may; the subscribers were countless! and the contributions incalculable! a result that never flows from barren pity, or ostentatious charity; and must be traced to 16 NAPOLEON; some more active masterspring of men’s pas¬ sions and bosoms. Amongst the eager and liberal contributors, was the Marquis of Belmont; a Personage whose latitude of life was now, far on the remote side of the climacteric. Though old, he could on certain occasions, make great efforts of ten¬ derness. Though the ice of Etna glistened on the hoary brow of the most noble, he still re¬ tained a due portion of its lire in his heart and in his eye—the former quite flammable and fusible, would kindle or melt, as convenience may suit, at every soft emotion. Like the other sons of Adam, he had his faults : he had also his hobby ; but “ de gustibus non disputaiidwn .” The propensity that seemed to outweigh all others with him, was that devoted leaning to¬ wards the fair sex, which he ever cherished. This was his favourite foible: and its influence still continued to operate on all his acts and feelings. The amorous veteran was smitten at hear¬ say, with the charms of Lady Belinda; and OR TIIE MYSTERIES OF THE HUNDRED DAYS. 11 withheld his contribution till he should see the fair object, whose fame had now attained such boundless celebrity Her Ladyship was accord¬ ingly introduced, and the interview was very touching. It was also fatal to the most noble; for in a few moments, Cupid, through a studied glance of Lady Belinda’s practised eye, shot one of his brightest and keenest arrows into his sensitiveheart, and the Noble Veteran fell pros¬ trate, groaning for mercy, at the feet of Lady Belinda, who started up, and triumphantly ex¬ claimed, “ vent, vuli , vici!” The rest of the courtship was not tedious, it was soon consum¬ mated at the shrine of Hymen. \ It is not within the pale of our purpose to inquire, why the most noble had, some time previously, divorced a wife ; neither do we pre¬ tend to pry so closely into family secrets ; yet, this we surely know, that with her, he did not repudiate his admiration of the sex : but “ every passionsoon was over” with the Noble Marquis. Accordingly the honey-moon was short and stormy. The story of this well-matched pair is brief 18 NAPOLEON ; and obvious : lie lost a wife and she a husband, both by ill treatment; and soon finding each other out, they seemed to enter into a compro¬ mise to act upon a principle of independence. Accordingly, having retired to the family seat in Ireland, they kept separate establishments. He had his toad-eaters , and mistresses—and she had her chaplains and physicians—neither party attempting to interfere with the arrange¬ ments of the other. Thus, matters went on for some years ; until at length, age began to cure them both of the follies of youth. They sunk into the quiet repose of domestic gamb¬ ling ; and their princely Mansion, was the resort of all the half-bred fashionables of the day, who had money to lose at cards, and were content to get good living in return. OR THE MYSTERIES OF THE HUNDRED DAYS. 19 CHAPTER Ill. *«--Come, Pride of my song ! Form’d by the Graces, loveliness itself ! Come with those downcast eyes, sedate and sweet, Those looks demure, that deeply pierce the soul, Where, with the light of thoughtful reason mix’d, Shines lively fancy and the feeling heart • Ocome! Thomson , In the last Chapter, we mentioned the cir¬ cumstances which attended our real heroine, and her friends, till the very eve of the Revolu¬ tion. The events of that memorable aera, are too fresh and well known; and too faithfully recorded by numerous historians, to require any notice from our feeble pen. We have, there¬ fore, only to pass them by, and advert to the period first mentioned in this work; namely, the retreat of Najpoleon to Elba, and the short c 2 20 NAPOLEON ; reign of Louis XVIII. To notice the circum- stances immediately connected with this, and the Emperor’s unexpected return, with the most extraordinary of these wonderful events, which occurred during the reign of the “ Hun¬ dred Days ,” shall be our business. These have certainly furnished the historian, with materials of a much more interesting nature, than any other which compose the pages of European records, for the last thousand years. Philosophy has also a theme to reflect on ; and Ambition its most awful and splendid lesson. We mentioned in the commencement of these memoirs, the arrival of several persons of rank from England and Ireland, on the restoration of Louis XVIII. Amongst whom the ci-devant Lady Belinda Haut-ton , now Marchioness of Belmont , was one of the most distinguished. She was induced once more, to visit the French Metropolis ; whither she went attended by her private establishment. Soon after her arrival, the Marchioness became acquainted with an Italian lady , of great accomplishments and OR THE MYSTERIES OF THE HUNDRED DAYS. 21 deep intrigue. We shall have occasion to men¬ tion this lady, more particularly hereafter, as it will appear, that on her charms hung ; in a great degree, the fate of all Europe ! Lady Belinda again led at Paris, all the gay scenes of fashionable life. Masquerades, Operas, Play-Houses, Public Gardens, and Country excursions, absorbed all the time of this heroine ; as long as her cash, and credit, held out: but, having met with a check in this respect, she was constrained to form a sort of partnership with the Countess of B-, an Irish Peeress of splendid fashion, and but tar¬ nished character ; who at this time, had a mag¬ nificent hotel, in the Rue cle Richelieu ; for the evident purpose of gambling and swindling the too credulous English ; who, on the ratification of peace, now resorted to this scene of dissipa¬ tion, plunder, and politesse. It is to be observed, that this Peeress had under her perilous protection, a most amiable and beautiful young lady, whose personal at¬ tractions, though unrivalled, were the least of her merits; the dignity of her mind, and the 22 NAPOLEON ; purity of her heart, were far more charming. She viewed with abhorrence the depravity of her patroness, and continued on the path of rectitude, unsullied, unsuspected, amid the mul¬ tifarious scenes of fraud and profligacy, which she daily witnessed, so fatally practised, on all ages and sexes, in the immoral mansion of the Peeress. This, was Miss B-, afterwards married to Dean A-, nephew^ of the Countess of B-, and brother to the late Lord C-. It was on the eve of the festival of Saint Michael , or in other words, on the night of the 28th of September 1814,-that there was an AssembUeen Masque, at the hotel ofthe Countess. This entertainment, was given for the Ini¬ tiation of the young and beautiful, Lady Char - totte Beaufort \ the daughter of a deceased English Nobleman, who, for so?ne reasons of a private nature , had been many years an exile from his country ; and resided for a long time in America. Not to enter into particulars, we find Lady Charlotte Beaufort, at this time, arrived at the OR THE MYSTERIES OF THE HUNDRED DAYS. 23 age of twenty-six ; her own mistress—rich, and accomplished—the envy of the women, and the admiration of the men, “ She excited enquiry , wherever she appear'd ; And the blear’d eye was spectacled to see her !” She had, what might be called, a taste for free¬ dom : and declared “ she would never marry yet, was she still a slave to the feelings, and passions of the heart. Her imagination was rich and lively : her disposition kind and amia¬ ble ; a sweet and tender sensibility peculiarly her own, reigned all through her character, and made her extremely interesting and en¬ dearing. In truth, Lady Charlotte was cast in nature’s lovliest mould ; her heart abounded with the noblest sentiments, and nothing rank or noxious lurked within the precincts of that pure and genial region. Who would not lay the wealth of the Arabs at the feet of such a Divinity ! ! Her matchless merits were indeed so singular and sublime, so far above the reach or competition of ordinary beings, as to exhibit to the general view, strong unequivocal shades of the romantic. In short, she was a very 24 NAPOLEON ; eccentric being, who would have every mail and woman, appear what they are—and, would have philosophers, or idiots, act for themselves, independent of control! on a principle, that imitation once abolished, genius would feel its superiority, and folly its insigni¬ ficance. Then, and then only, would man, “ the noblest work of Godf find his proper level —for, if neither worldly views, contracted pre¬ judices, or compulsive examples, swayed his better reason—wisdom, and experience, would teach him another lesson ; and impelled by truth alone, how excellent would he be ! Indeed, it is true ; the pitiful prevalence of general conformity, suppresses genius, and stifles originality. However, when we think less, and act more, w r e find the necessity of accommodating ourselves to received opinions ; and of pursuing quietly the path marked out: for, though the understanding be averse from fools—and our commerce with the world, pro¬ vokes us to despise them—with respect to settled forms, and customs—the opposition of an individual to a community, is always dan- OR THE MYSTERIES OF THE HUNDRED DAYS. 25 gerous in the operation, and seldom successful in the event. But, Lady Charlotte Beaufort, thought dif¬ ferently—and indeed, deviations from the com¬ mon track, are generally pardonable—nay de¬ sirable in persons endowed with sublime and singular abilities ; as the only means of ob¬ serving those distinctions which providence imparts, by stamping the genius of each in¬ dividual, with some peculiar and appropriate characteristic : for as the poet sings, (C Common rules were ne’er design’d Directors of a noble mind ! !” But, whatever may be the apparent incongrui¬ ties in Lady Charlotte’s conduct, it is certain, as we before observed, and will be evinced in the conclusion ; that in essentials, she was not only simply correct, and negatively laudable, but highly exemplary and amiable. But in the vicissitudes, however, of her private life, and the wayward destinies, which through that path awaited her, she stands unique ; in that respect alone, she is without a parallel in the history of the sex. We shall not at present go 26 NAPOLEON ; into any further developemertt; than to acquaint the reader, that Lady Charlotte possessed wealth, affluence, freedom, and power. Might it not be safely concluded, that with all this, she could be happy ? But, alas ! it seemed as if a cruel and malignant fatality hung over her ; and it might be too truly said, that “ few and evil were the days of her pilgrimage.” Howe¬ ver, the circumstances of her past life, remained a mystery, and were concealed deep in the re¬ cesses of her heart. She was like a being of a superior order, enve¬ loped in a cloud of mortality. In short, she was a Unique in the history of modern females. There was something of fatality and mystery about her , to which the following lines of Lord Byron, may not be deemed inapplicable : - “ From my youth upwards My spirit walk’d not with the souls of men. Nor look’d upon the earth with human eyes ; The thirst of their ambition was not mine, The aim of their existence was not mine; My joys, my griefs, my passions, and my powers, Made me a stranger ; though I wore the form, I had no sympathy with breathing flesh, Nor midst the creatures of clay that girded me, Was there but one who.”- OR THE MYSTERIES OF THE HUNDRED DAYS. 27 She was, in the language of the same exqui¬ site bard— -—