The Emperor and Empress went one day to breakfast in a little island of the Olona, in the environs of Milan. In walking about, the Emperor met a poor woman whose thatched hut was quite near the place where the table of Their Majesties had been laid, and he asked her a number of questions. "Sir," she replied (not knowing the Emperor), "I am very poor and the mother of three children whom I have great difficulty in bringing up, because my husband, who is a day-laborer, does not always have work."—"How much do you need," inquired the Emperor, "to make you perfectly happy? " "Oh! sir, I would need a great deal of money."—"But still, goody, how much do you need?" "Ah! sir, unless we have twenty louis we shall never get ahead, but what likelihood is there that we shall ever have twenty louis?"

The Emperor presented her on the spot with a sum of three thousand francs in gold, and he ordered me to undo the rolls and throw the whole into the good woman's apron. At the sight of such a great quantity of gold, the latter turned pale, tottered, and I saw that she was ready to faint. "Ah! it is too much, sir, it is really too much. And yet you would not make fun of a poor woman?"

The Emperor reassured her by saying that it was all right, and that with this money she could buy a little field, a flock of goats, and bring her children up well. His Majesty did not make himself known; he liked to maintain his incognito when bestowing benefits. I know of a great many actions like this one in his life. It seems that his biographers have taken pains to pass them over in silence, and yet, it seems to me, that it is by such traits that one could and ought to paint the character of the Emperor.

Some deputies from the Ligurian Republic, with the Doge at their head, had come to Milan to entreat the Emperor to unite Genoa and its territory to the Empire. His Majesty was not inclined to repel such a request, and by a decree he had made of the states of Genoa three departments of his kingdom of Italy. The Emperor and Empress left Milan to visit these departments and some others.

We had been at Mantua for some time, when one evening, toward six o'clock, Grand Marshal Duroc came to give me an order to remain alone in the little salon which preceded the chamber of the Emperor, and apprised me that Count Lucien Bonaparte would arrive presently. I saw him come, in fact, at the end of a few minutes. When he had announced himself, I brought him into the bedchamber, and then knocked at the door of the Emperor's cabinet to let him know. After saluting each other, the brothers shut themselves up in the chamber. A very lively discussion soon broke out between them, and as I was obliged to remain in the little salon, although against my will, I heard a great part of the conversation. The Emperor was urging his brother to a divorce, and promising him a crown if he would consent to it. M. Lucien responded that he would never abandon the mother of his children. This resistance keenly irritated the Emperor, whose expressions became hard and even insulting. Finally, after this interview had lasted more than an hour, M. Lucien came out in a frightful state, pale, discomposed, and his eyes red and filled with tears. We did not see him again, for on leaving his brother he returned to Rome.

The Emperor remained disagreeably affected by his brother's resistance, and did not open his lips at his couchee. It has been claimed that the quarrel between the two brothers was occasioned by the elevation of the First Consul to the Empire, which M. Lucien disapproved. This is an error: it is very true that the latter had proposed to continue the Republic under the government of two consuls, who would have been Napoleon and Lucien. The one would have taken charge of war and foreign relations, the other of all that referred to interior affairs; but although the ill-success of his plan may have afflicted M. Lucien, the eagerness with which he accepted the title of senator and count of the Empire sufficiently proves that he cared very little for a republic of which he was not one of the chiefs. I am certain that M. Lucien's marriage with Madame J—— was the only cause of the quarrel. The Emperor disapproved this union, because the lady was reputed to have been very gay, and had been divorced from her husband, who had failed and fled to America. This failure, and above all the divorce, wounded Napoleon deeply; he had always had a great repugnance for divorced persons.

The Emperor had already desired to elevate his brother to sovereign rank by marrying him to the Queen of Etruria, who had recently lost her husband. M. Lucien had refused this alliance several times. Finally the Emperor grew angry and said to him: "You see where you are led by your obstinacy and your ridiculous love for a . . . femme galante." "At least,"replied M. Lucien, "mine is young and pretty," making allusion to the Empress Josephine, who had been both one and the other. The hardihood of this response pushed the Emperor's anger to extremes; they say he had his watch in his hand at the time, and that he threw it violently on the floor, exclaiming: "Since you will listen to nothing, very well, I will break you like that watch."

Differences had occurred between the two brothers even before the establishment of the Empire. Among the facts which caused the disgrace of M. Lucien, I have often heard the following cited:

When M. Lucien was minister of the interior, he had received orders from the First Consul not to allow any grain to leave the territory of the Republic. Our storehouses were full and France abundantly provided for; but it was otherwise in England, where there was already a great dearth. It is not known how the affair was managed, but the greater part of our grain crossed the strait of Calais. It is said that it was sold for twenty millions. On learning this, the First Consul took the portfolio of the interior from his brother, and appointed him to the embassy of Spain.

At Madrid, M. Lucien was very well received by the King and the royal family, and became the intimate friend of Manuel Godoy, Prince of the Peace. It was during this mission, and in accord with the Prince of the Peace, that the treaty of Badajos was concluded, a result for which Portugal, it was said, paid thirty millions. It has also been said that this sum, paid in gold and diamonds, was divided between the two plenipotentiaries, who did not think proper to account for it to their respective courts.

Charles IV. loved M. Lucien tenderly, and had the greatest veneration for the First Consul. After having carefully examined several Spanish horses which he intended for the First Consul, he said to his first equerry: "You are happy; I envy your good luck! You are going to see the great man and talk to him; why can't I take your place!"

During his embassy, M. Lucien had paid homage to a lady of the highest rank, and had received from her a medallion portrait encircled by very fine brilliants. I have seen this portrait a hundred times; he wore it hanging round his neck from a beautiful black hair chain. Far from making a mystery of it, he affected, on the contrary, to display it, and would lean forward so that one might see the rich medallion swaying on his breast.

Before his departure from Madrid, the King also made him a present of his portrait in miniature, likewise encircled by diamonds. These stones, reset and made into an ornament for a bonnet, passed to the second wife of M. Lucien. This is the way the story of M. Lucien's marriage with Madame J—— was related to me by a person living in M. Lucien's own house:

The First Consul was informed daily, and without delay, of what occurred in the houses of his brothers. An exact account was given him of the least particulars and the most minute details. M. Lucien, wishing to marry Madame J——, whom he had known in the house of Count de L—— , with whom she was on the best of terms, sent word between two and three o'clock in the afternoon to M. Duquesnoy, mayor of the tenth district, that he wished him to come to his house in the rue Saint-Dominique at eight o'clock that evening, bringing with him the marriage register. Between five and six o'clock M. Duquesnoy received from the château of the Tuileries an order not to take the registers outside the municipal building, and especially not to perform any marriages before the names of the intended couple should have been posted, conformably with the law, during eight days.

At the designated hour, M. Duquesnoy arrived at the house and asked a private interview with the Count, to whom he communicated the order emanating from the château. Beside himself with wrath, M. Lucien sent on the spot to engage a hundred post-horses for himself and all his company, and without delay, himself and Madame J—— , the company and all his servants, set out in carriages for the château of Plessis-Clamant, a pleasure-house half a league below Senlis. The curé of the place, who was also assistant mayor, was immediately sent for. At midnight he performed the civil marriage, and then, putting his priestly vestments over his scarf as a state official, he gave the fugitives the nuptial benediction. A good supper was afterwards served, at which the assistant curé was present; and as he was returning to his presbytery toward six o'clock in the morning, he saw a post-chaise at his door guarded by two cavaliers. On entering his house he found there an officer of gendarmerie, who politely invited him to accompany him to Paris. The poor curé thought he was ruined; but he had to obey under penalty of being conducted to Paris from brigade to brigade by the gendarmerie.

He mounted therefore into the fatal chaise, which was carried away on the gallop by two good horses, and was landed at the Tuileries. Led into the cabinet of the First Consul, the latter said to him in a terrific voice: "So it is you, sir, who marry members of my family without my consent, and without having made the publications you were bound to make in your double character as curé and assistant! Do you know that you ought to be dispossessed, interdicted, and prosecuted before the courts? " The unlucky priest saw himself already at the bottom of a dungeon. However, after a sharp rebuke, he was sent back to his presbytery. But the two brothers were never reconciled.

Notwithstanding these differences, M. Lucien always counted on his brother's affection in order to obtain a kingdom. I guarantee the authenticity of the following fact, which was related to me by a person worthy of credit. At the head of his household M. Lucien had a friend of his childhood, of the same age as himself, and likewise a native of Corsica. He was named Campi, and enjoyed unlimited confidence in the house of the Count. The day on which the Moniteur gave the list of the new French princes, M. Campi was walking in the fine gallery of paintings formed by M. Lucien, with a young secretary of the latter, and the following conversation took place between them: "Of course you have read the Moniteur to-day?" "Yes."—"You saw there that all the members of the family are decorated with the title of French princes, the Count alone excepted."—"What does that matter? there are kingdoms."—"The sovereigns take such good care to preserve them that I hardly see any vacancies."—"Oh! well, we can make some; all the sovereign families of Europe are used up, and we shall have some new ones." Thereupon M. Campi held his peace, and commanded the young man to do likewise if he wished to remain in the good graces of the Count. Hence it was not until long afterwards that the young secretary spoke of this interview. This confidence, without being remarkably piquant, nevertheless gives an idea of the degree of faith that need be given to the pretended moderation of Count Lucien, and to the epigrams with which he is credited against the ambition of his brother and his family.

There was no one in the château who did not know of the enmity that existed between the Empress Josephine and M. Lucien Bonaparte; and in order to pay court to the former, the old habitues of Malmaison, now become the courtiers of the Tuileries, used to tell her all the most piquant news they could obtain concerning the Emperor's younger brother. It was in this way that I one day chanced to hear a grave personage, a senator of the Empire, giving the Empress in the gayest manner in the world some very circumstantial details concerning one of M. Lucien's passing love affairs. I do not guarantee the authenticity of the anecdote, and in writing it down I experience more embarrassment than the senator in relating it. I even carefully refrain from entering into a multitude of details which he gave without blushing, and without scaring his auditor; for my aim is to make known what I myself know of the interior of the imperial family and the habits of those who were nearest the Emperor, and not to excite scandal, although I could justify myself for doing so by the example of a dignitary of the Empire.

M. Lucien then (I do not know in what year), sought the good graces of Mademoiselle Méseray, a pretty and witty actress of the Théâtre Français. The conquest was not difficult, in the first place, because it never had been so for any one, and in the second, because the actress knew that the Count was rich and believed that he was prodigal. Her lover's first attentions must have confirmed her in this opinion. She asked for a house; one was given her, richly and elegantly furnished, and the contract was sent to her the day on which she took possession. Each visit of the Count enriched with some new ornament the wardrobe or the jewel-case of the actress. This lasted for some months, at the end of which M. Lucien tired of his bargain, and began to consider how he should get rid of it without too great loss. Among other presents, he had given Mademoiselle Méseray a pair of diamond sprays of very great value. In one of their last interviews, but before the Count had shown any signs of relaxed ardor, he saw these sprays on her toilet table, and taking them in his hands: "Really, my dear," said he, "you are wronging me. Why do you not show me more confidence? I have a grudge against you for wearing old-fashioned jewels like these." "What do you mean? It is not six months since you gave them to me."— "I know it, but a woman who respects herself, a woman of good taste, ought not to wear anything that is six months old. I will keep the ear- pendants and take them to Devilliers [the Count's jeweller] and have them mounted as I wish." The Count, very affectionately thanked for such a delicate attention, put the sprays in his pocket, along with one or two other ornaments which also came from him and which he did not think sufficiently stylish, and the quarrel broke out before he had brought anything back.

Mademoiselle M—— thought herself well off in her furniture and even in her house, when one morning the real proprietor came to ask if it were her intention to renew her lease. She recurred to her deed as owner, which she had not yet thought of unfolding, and found that it was only the engrossed copy of an inventory of fixtures, at the bottom of which was the receipt for a rental of two years.

During our stay at Genoa the heat was insupportable; the Emperor suffered much from it and pretended that he had never experienced anything like it in Egypt. He changed his clothes several times a day; his bed was surrounded with a mosquito netting, for the gnats were numerous and tormenting. The windows of his bedroom opened on a large terrace on the border of the sea, whence could be seen the gulf and all the surrounding country. The fêtes given by the city were superb; a great number of boats laden with orange and lemon trees and shrubs covered with flowers and fruits were linked together: when united these boats resembled a floating garden of the greatest beauty. Their Majesties repaired thither on a magnificent yacht.

On his way back to France, the Emperor rested nowhere from Turin to Fontainebleau. He travelled incognito, under the title of minister of the interior. We went with such swiftness that at each station they were obliged to throw water on the wheels; and in spite of this His Majesty complained of the slowness of the postilions, and was shouting every minute: "Go on, we are not moving. Several of the servants' carriages fell behind; mine experienced no delay, and I arrived at each station at the same time as the Emperor.

To climb the steep hill of Tarare, the Emperor alighted from the carriage, as did Marshal Berthier, who accompanied him. The equipages were rather a long way behind, because they had stopped to give the horses a rest. As he was climbing the hill, the Emperor saw an old woman a few paces in front of him. She was lame and could only climb with great difficulty. The Emperor approached her and asked why, being so infirm as she seemed to be, and looking so fatigued, she was walking on such a tiresome road.

"Sir," she replied, "I have been assured that the Emperor must pass by this road, and I want to see him before I die." His Majesty, who wished to amuse himself, said to her: "Ah! good heavens! why should you disturb yourself for that? He is a tyrant like another."

The old woman, indignant at the remark, replied with a sort of anger: "At least, sir, he is one of our own choosing, and since we must have a master, it is very just, anyway, that we should select him." I was not a witness of this fact; but I heard the Emperor himself recount it to Doctor Corvisart, with some reflections on the good sense of the people, who, according to the opinion of His Majesty and his chief physician, are generally very correct in their judgment.