She took no notice of her toilette, expressed her deep satisfaction at her arrival in Russia, hoped she would be happy and stay there a long time, and ordered an apartment in the palace to be prepared for her during the rest of the summer.Les chemises de Marat, ou larrestation de Mesdames, tantes du Roi Arnay-le-Duc.
FORE:Napoleon gave him a consulship at Alicante, where he spent some years. Before he went, Ouvrard offered him the cottage in the Champs-Elyses and a pension of twelve thousand francs, which he refused with indignation. He was again a journalist, and would live by his pen.
ONE:I know neither the Montagne nor the Gironde. I know the people, and I love and serve them. Give me a serge dress and I will go to the hospitals and nurse the sick patriots.
TWO:There had been a sudden silence when he entered; no one saluted him but Mme. Le Brun, who greeted [286] him with a smile, but all regarded him with curiosity. His dress was not like those of the gentlemen present, nor of their class at all; it had a sort of Bohemian picturesqueness which rather suited his handsome, striking, sarcastic face; he was very young, not more than about twenty, but he spoke and moved with perfect unconcern amongst the uncongenial society into which he had fallen. Mme. Le Brun, tired of the stupid, contradictory remarks of the amateurs who then, as now, were eager to criticise what they knew nothing about, and nearly always said the wrong thing, exclaimed impatiently
THREE:Capital letter W
FORE:It was all so terribly changed, she could hardly believe that this was indeed the Paris of her youth, the ancient capital of a great monarchy, the centre of magnificence, elegance, and refinement. The churches were mostly closed, if not in ruins; the statues of the saints were replaced by those of infidel philosophers; the names of the streets were changed into others, often commemorating some odious individual or theory or deed of the Revolution; as to the convents the very names of Jacobin, Cordeliers, and others were associated with horror and bloodshed. The words palais and h?tel having been forbidden by the Terrorists, maison ci-devant Conti, maison ci-devant Bourbon, &c., were written upon the once splendid dwellings of those who were now murdered, wandering in exile or, like herself, just returning to their ruined homes, with shattered fortunes and sorrowful hearts. Everywhere, on walls and buildings were inscribed [453] the mocking words libert, galit, fraternit, sometimes with the significant addition, ou la mort.
The Duchesse dAyenBirth and death of her sonsHer five daughtersTheir education at homeSaintly life of the DuchessMarriage of her eldest daughter to the Vicomte de NoaillesOf the second to the Marquis de la FayetteOf the Dauphin to the Archduchess Marie AntoinetteThe Comtesse de NoaillesMarriages of the Comtes de Provence and dArtois to the Princesses of SardiniaDeath of Louis XV.Unhappy marriage of the third daughter of the Duc dAyen to the Vicomte du RoureAfterwards to Vicomte de ThsanPaulette and Rosalie de NoaillesAdrienne de la FayetteRadical ideas of the Vicomte de Noailles and Marquis de la FayetteDispleasure of the family and the KingLa Fayette and de Noailles join the American insurgentsGrief and heroism of AdrienneMarriage of Pauline to the Marquis de Montagu.In 1786-8 she had two daughters, Nomi and Clotilde, soon after whose birth the family had to mourn the loss of Mme. de Thsan, who died before she was five-and-twenty, and who was certainly, as events soon proved, taken away from the evil to come.Mesdames de France, the Kings daughters, of whom there had been seven or eight, were now reduced to five, four of whom were unmarried. Nothing is more characteristic of the period than the way these princesses were brought up and educated; and the light thrown upon manners and customs early in the eighteenth century gives interest to all the details concerning them.When Mme. de Bouzolz had a baby, she nursed her devotedly, and took the deepest interest in the child. But the height of bliss seemed to be attained when soon after she had a daughter herself, with which she was so enraptured and about which she made such a fuss, that one can well imagine how tiresome it must have been for the rest of the family. She thought of nothing else, would go nowhere, except to the wedding of her sister, Mme. du Roure, with M. de Thsan; and when in the following spring the poor little thing died after a short illness, she fell into a state of grief and despair which alarmed the whole family, who found it impossible to comfort her. She would sit by the empty cradle, crying, and making drawings in pastel of the child from memory after its portrait had been put away out of her sight. But her unceasing depression and lamentation so worried M. de Beaune that, seeing this, she left off talking about it, and he, hoping she was becoming [198] more resigned to the loss, proposed that she should begin again to go into society after more than a year of retirement. She consented, to please him, for as he would not leave her his life was, of course, very dull. But the effort and strain of it made her so ill that the next year she was obliged to go to Bagnres de Luchon. M. de Beaune, who was certainly a devoted father-in-law, went with her. Her mother and eldest sister came to visit her there; her husband travelled three hundred leagues, although he was ill at the time, to see how she was getting on, and in the autumn she was much better, and able to go to the wedding of her favourite sister, Rosalie, with the Marquis de Grammont.Flight and dangerMonsZurichZugThe Convent of BremgartenDeath of M. de SilleryOf galitMademoiselle dOrlans and the Princesse de Conti.The most infamous calumnies were circulated about Marie Caroline when Napoleon wanted her kingdom for Caroline Murat; but she had a brave, strong character and plenty of brains. The government was carried on by her, for the King could or would do nothing but loiter about at Caserta.Mon cher, here is what you wanted; the music is all right, I have just tried it on my flute. I am sorry not to be able to get you some more; I shall not be alive to-morrow. [107]