to kiss him? Who could foretell the cruel doom -
heedless of
such favours and such splendid promises - that awaited the
pretty child? Who could hear the brave young soldier's last
shrieks of
solitary agony? Who could see the
forsaken body
slashed with
knives and assegais? Ah! who could dream of
that fond mother's heart, when the end came, which eclipsed
even the disasters of a nation!
One by-day, when my wife and I were riding with the Emperor
through the forest of Compiegne, a rough-looking man in a
blouse, with a red
comforter round his neck,
sprang out from
behind a tree; and before he could be stopped, seized the
Emperor's
bridle. In an
instant the Emperor struck his hand
with a heavy
hunting stock; and being free, touched his horse
with the spur and cantered on. I took particular notice of
his features and his
demeanour, from the very first moment of
the surprise. Nothing happened but what I have described.
The man seemed
fierce and
reckless. The Emperor showed not
the faintest signs of discomposure. All he said was, turning
to my wife, 'Comme il avait l'air sournois, cet homme!' and
resumed the conversation at the point where it was
interrupted.
Before we had gone a hundred yards I looked back to see what
had become of the
offender. He was in the hands of two GENS
D'ARMES, who had been
invisible till then.
'Poor devil,' thought I, 'this spells
dungeon for you.'
Now, with Kinglake's acrimonious
charge of the Emperor's
personal
cowardice" target="_blank" title="n.懦弱,胆怯">
cowardicerunning in my head, I felt that this
exhibition of SANG FROID, when taken completely unawares,
went far to refute the imputation. What happened later in
the day
strongly confirmed this opinion.
After dark, about six o'clock, I took a
stroll by myself
through the town of Compiegne. Coming home, when crossing
the
bridge below the Palace, I met the Emperor arm-in-arm
with Walewski. Not ten minutes afterwards, whom should I
stumble upon but the
ruffian who had seized the Emperor's
bridle? The same red
comforter was round his neck, the same
wild look was in his face. I turned after he had passed, and
at the same moment he turned to look at me.
Would this man have been at large but for the Emperor's
orders? Assuredly not. For, supposing he were crazy, who
could have answered for his deeds? Most likely he was
shadowed; and to a
certainty the Emperor would be so. Still,
what could save the latter from a pistol-shot? Yet, here he
was, sauntering about the badly lighted streets of a town
where his kenspeckle figure was familiar to every inhabitant.
Call this fatalism if you will; but these were not the acts
of a
coward. I told this story to a friend who was well
'posted' in the club
gossip of the day. He laughed.
'Don't you know the meaning of Kinglake's spite against the
Emperor?' said he. 'CHERCHEZ LA FEMME. Both of them were in
love with Mrs. - '
This is the way we write our histories.
Wishing to
explore the grounds about the palace before anyone
was astir, I went out one morning about half-past eight.
Seeing what I took to be a mausoleum, I walked up to it,
found the door opened, and peeped in. It turned out to be a
museum of Roman antiquities, and the Emperor was inside,
arranging them. I immediately
withdrew, but he called to me
to come in.
He was at this time busy with his Life of Caesar; and, in his
enthusiasm, seemed pleased to have a
listener to his
instructive explanations; he even encouraged the curiosity
which the
valuablecollection and his own remarks could not
fail to awaken.
Not long ago, I saw some
correspondence in the Times' and
other papers about what Heine calls 'Das kleine
welthistorische Hutchen,' which the whole of Europe knew so
well, to its cost. Some six or seven of the Buonaparte hats,