When General Bonaparte set off for Egypt, Madame Bonaparte accompanied him as far as Toulon. She even desired very much to follow him to Egypt, and when the General made objections, she reminded him that, being a Creole by birth, the warmth of the climate would be favorable rather than dangerous to her, and that, by a singular coincidence, it was on the Pomona that she wished to make the voyage; that is, on the same vessel that had brought her in early youth from Martinique to France. General Bonaparte, having finally acceded to his wife's wishes, promised to send her the Pomona, and persuaded her to go meanwhile and take the waters of Plombières. Things were settled in this way between the husband and wife, and Madame Bonaparte was enchanted to go to Plombières, which she had long desired to do, knowing, like everybody else, what was the special reputation of these waters.

Madame Bonaparte had been at Plombières but a short time, when one morning, as she was in her salon, hemming bandana handkerchiefs, and chatting with some ladies, Madame de Cambis, who was on the balcony, called her to come and see a pretty little dog that was passing in the street. All present ran out after Madame Bonaparte, and then the balcony gave way with a frightful crash. Fortunately, and one may say by a great chance, nobody was killed; but Madame de Cambis had her thigh broken, and Madame Bonaparte was cruelly bruised, although no bones were fractured. M. Charvet, who was in a room over the salon, ran down on hearing the noise and had a sheep killed and skinned immediately, and Madame Bonaparte enveloped in the skin. She was a long time in regaining her health. Her arms and hands, especially, were so bruised that for some time she was unable to use them, and it was necessary to cut up her food and put it in her mouth, and, in a word, to render her every service ordinarily required by a child.

We have just seen that Josephine expected to rejoin her husband in Egypt, and this gave her reason to suppose that her stay at the baths of Plombières would not last long; but her accident made her conclude that it would be prolonged indefinitely, and she wished, while her health was being re- established, to have her daughter with her. Hortense was then fifteen, and was being educated at Madame Campan's boarding-school. She sent a mulatto woman after her whom she was very fond of. Euphémie, as she was called, was the foster-sister of Madame Bonaparte, and was even supposed, though I do not know whether the supposition was well founded, to be her natural sister. Euphémie set off with M. Charvet in one of Madame Bonaparte's carriages. On their arrival Hortense was enchanted with the journey she was about to make, and especially with the idea of going to her mother, for whom she had the liveliest affection. Mademoiselle Hortense was, I will not say a glutton, but excessively fond of good eating, and so M. Charvet, in relating these details, told me that in every town of the least importance the carriage was replenished with bonbons and dainties, of which Mademoiselle Hortense consumed a great many. One day when Euphémie and M. Charvet were sound asleep, they were suddenly awakened by a report which to them seemed terrible, and which gave them the greatest uneasiness, since, on awakening, they found they were passing through a dense forest. This fortuitous accident made Hortense shout with laughter, for they had hardly shown their fright before they were inundated with an odorous foam which explained where the report came from: it was that of a bottle of champagne placed in one of the pockets of the carriage, and which the heat and the motion, or more probably the roguishness of the young traveller, had uncorked with a good deal of noise. When Mademoiselle Hortense reached Plombières, her mother was nearly well, so that Madame Campan's pupil found there all the distractions and amusements suitable to her age.

One has reason to say that every mischance has its good side; for, but for the accident that happened to Madame Bonaparte, it is among the possibilities that she would have been taken prisoner by the English. She learned, in fact, that the ship Pomona, on which, as we have seen, she wished to make the voyage, had fallen into the hands of these enemies of France.

And as, moreover, every letter from General Bonaparte dissuaded his wife from joining him, she returned to Paris.

On her arrival Josephine bethought her of accomplishing a wish that had been expressed by General Bonaparte before his departure. He had told her that he would like to have a country house on his return, and had even commissioned his brother Joseph to take the matter in hand, which M. Joseph did not do. Madame Bonaparte, who was, on the contrary, always on the lookout for whatever might please her husband, set several people to work hunting up something that might be suitable in the environs of Paris. After hesitating long between Ris and Malmaison, she decided on the latter, and bought it from M. Lecoulteux-Dumoley for, I think, the sum of four hundred thousand francs.

It was stories of this kind that M. Charvet was kind enough to tell me in the days when I first entered the service of Madame Bonaparte. Every one in the house liked to talk about her, and assuredly not for the sake of slandering her; for no woman was ever more loved by those around her, or deserved to be so. General Bonaparte also was an excellent man in the privacy of family life.

Since the return of the First Consul from his Egyptian campaign, several attempts had been made on his life. The police had many times warned him to be on his guard, and not to venture about alone in the neighborhood of Malmaison. The First Consul was not much inclined to be suspicious, especially before this period. But the discovery of the snares laid for him in his most intimate private life, forced him to use prudence and precaution. It has been said since then that these pretended conspiracies were mere fabrications of the police, for the purpose of making themselves necessary to the First Consul, or else (who knows?) of the First Consul himself, in order to redouble the interest attaching to his person by fear of the perils menacing his life; and the absurdity of these attempts has been alleged in proof of their falsity. I do not pretend to solve such mysteries; but it seems to me that in the matter in question, absurdity proves nothing, or, at all events, does not prove falsity. The conspirators of that epoch have given us their own measure so far as extravagance is concerned. What could be more absurd, and yet more real, than the atrocious folly of the infernal machine? However it may be, I am going to recount what happened under my own eyes during the first months of my sojourn at Malmaison. Nobody in the house had the least doubt of the reality of these attempts, or, at any rate, nobody displayed any such doubts before me.

All means to get rid of the First Consul seemed good to his enemies. They took everything into their calculations, even his recreations, as the following occurrence will prove.

There were repairs and embellishments to make in the chimneys of the First Consults apartments at Malmaison. The contractor who had undertaken them had sent some marble-cutters, among whom had slipped in, according to all appearances, some wretches bribed by the conspirators. The persons attached to the First Consul were constantly on the watch, and used the greatest vigilance. They thought they noticed that there were some men among these laborers who pretended to be working, but whose manner and appearance were not in keeping with their occupation. These suspicions were, unhappily, but too well founded; for when the apartments were ready to receive the First Consul, and at the moment when he came to occupy them, some one found, in making a turn about the rooms, on the desk at which he was about to seat himself, a snuff-box exactly similar to the one the First Consul was in the habit of using. It was supposed at first that this box really belonged to him and had been forgotten there by his valet, but the doubts excited by the appearance of some of the marble- cutters having taken more consistency, the snuff was examined and analyzed. It was poisoned.

Those who plotted this treachery had, so people said in those days, an understanding with other conspirators, who were to try a different means of getting rid of the First Consul. They determined to assail the guard of the château of Malmaison and forcibly abduct the head of the government. With this end in view they had uniforms made similar to those of the consular guides who were then on duty day and night near the First Consul, and who followed him on horseback in his excursions. In this costume, and by aid of their understanding with their accomplices within the house (the pretended marble-cutters), they might easily have approached and mingled with the guard, who were fed and lodged at the château; they might even have reached the First Consul and carried him off. This first scheme, however, was abandoned as too risky, and the conspirators flattered themselves that they could attain their object more surely and with less danger by taking advantage of the First Consul's frequent journeys to Paris. Aided by their disguise, they were to mingle with the guides of the escort and kill them. Their rallying-point was to be the quarries of Nanterre. Their plot was discovered for the second time. There was a rather deep quarry in the park at Malmaison, and as it was feared that it might be taken advantage of as a hiding-place whence violence might be done to the First Consul in one of his solitary walks, an iron door was put there.

At one o'clock in the afternoon of February 19, the First Consul repaired in state to the Tuileries, which was then styled the Palace of the Government, in order to install himself there with all his household. His two colleagues were with him, one of whom, the Third Consul, was to occupy the same residence and establish himself in the Pavilion of Flora. The carriage of the consuls was drawn by six white horses presented to the conqueror of Italy by the Emperor of Germany after the signatures had been affixed to the treaty of Campo-Formio. The magnificent sabre worn by the First Consul at this ceremony had also been given him by that monarch on the same occasion. A remarkable thing about this formal change of domicile was that the acclamations and regards of the crowd, and even of the most distinguished spectators who thronged the windows of the rue Thionville and the quai Voltaire, were addressed only to the First Consul and the young warriors of his brilliant staff, still all bronzed by the sun of the Pyramids or of Italy. In the first rank marched Generals Lannes and Murat, the first easy to recognize by the audacity of his appearance and his thoroughly military manners; the second by the same qualities and, in addition, by a very punctilious elegance in his costume and his weapons. His new title of brother-in-law to the First Consul likewise contributed powerfully to fix universal attention on him. For my part, all mine was absorbed by the principal person in the procession, whom, like all the people who surrounded me, I never looked at without a sort of religious admiration, and by his stepson, the son of my excellent mistress and himself my former master, the brave, modest, and good Prince Eugène, who at that time was not yet a prince. On arriving at the Tuileries, the First Consul took possession at once of the apartment he always occupied thereafter, and which formed part of what had been the royal apartments. This suite was composed of a bedroom, bath-room, a cabinet, and a salon in which he gave audience in the morning, a second salon where the aides-de-camp on duty remained, and which served him as a dining-room, and of a vast antechamber. Madame Bonaparte had her own apartments on the ground-floor, the same she occupied when Empress. Over the part of the building inhabited by the First Consul was the lodging of M. de Bourrienne, his secretary, communication between them being established by means of a private stairway.

Although he already had courtiers at this period, he had as yet no court. The etiquette was of the simplest description. As I have said before, the First Consul slept in the same bed as his wife. They inhabited together sometimes the Tuileries and sometimes Malmaison; as yet neither grand marshal, chamberlains, prefects of the palace, nor ladies of honor, tiring women and pages were to be seen. The household of the First Consul comprised merely M. Pfister, the steward, M. Venard, chief cook, MM. Gaillot and Danger, superintendents, and Colin, chief of the kitchen and its dependencies. M. Ripeau was librarian, and the elder M. Vigogne, equerry. The persons engaged in private service were the first valet de chambre, M. Hambart; Hébert, ordinary valet, and Roustan, the First Consul's Mameluke. There were besides some fifteen persons employed in subordinate offices. M. de Bourrienne governed the entire force and checked the expenditures; although very quick-tempered, he had been able to conciliate universal respect and affection; he was kind, obliging, and above all very just. Hence, at the time of his disgrace, the whole household was grieved about it; for my part, I have retained a sincere and respectful memory of him, and I hope that, if he has had the misfortune to find enemies among the great, he has at least met among his inferiors none but grateful hearts which have keenly regretted him.

Some days after this installation, there was a reception of the diplomatic corps at the château; the details I am about to give concerning it will show how simple was the etiquette at this time of what was already styled the Court.

By eight o'clock in the evening the apartments of Madame Bonaparte, situated as I have said, in the part of the ground-floor overlooking the garden, were thronged with people; there was an incredible profusion of feathers, diamonds, and dazzling toilets; such a crowd was present that it was necessary to open the door of Madame Bonaparte's bedroom, for the two salons were so full that it was impossible to move around in them.

When all these people had taken their places as well as they could, after a good deal of embarrassment and trouble, Madame Bonaparte was announced, and entered, conducted by M. de Talleyrand. She wore a white muslin robe with short sleeves, and a pearl necklace. Her head was bare, and her braided hair kept in place by a shell comb with a most charming negligence; her ears must have been agreeably struck by the flattering murmurs that greeted her entrance. Never, I think, had she more grace and majesty.

M. de Talleyrand, still giving his hand to Madame Bonaparte, had the honor of presenting to her in succession the members of the diplomatic corps, not by their own names but by those of their courts. Afterwards he made the round of the two salons with her. The review of the second salon was half over when, without having himself announced, the First Consul entered, in an extremely simple uniform, with a tricolored scarf of silk, with fringe of the same material, tied round him. He wore white cashmere tights, with top boots, and carried his hat in his hand. This unelaborate costume appearing in the midst of the embroidered coats, overloaded with ribbons and jewels, which were worn by the ambassadors, formed a contrast at least as imposing as did the toilet of Madame Bonaparte with those of the ladies invited.

Before relating how it was that I left Madame Bonaparte's service for that of the head of the State, and the abode of Malmaison for the second campaign in Italy, I think it well to stop, give a glance behind me, and set down here one or two souvenirs of the time when I still belonged to Madame Bonaparte. In the evenings, when nearly everybody had retired, she was fond of sitting up to play a game of billiards and oftener still of backgammon. It happened once that, having dismissed all her company, and being still disinclined to sleep, she asked me if I knew how to play billiards. On my reply, which was affirmative, she asked me with charming kindness to have a game with her, and I had the honor of playing several. Although I have a certain skill, I managed so as to let her win frequently, which amused her very much. If this was flattery, I must own myself guilty of it, but I think I would have acted in the same way with any other woman, whatever her rank and position in relation to me, even though she were not half so amiable as Madame Bonaparte.

The porter of Malmaison, who had the entire confidence of his masters, among other means of defence and surveillance which he had devised in order to guard the house and person of the First Consul from an unexpected attack, had obtained a number of enormous watch-dogs, two of which were very fine Newfoundlands. The embellishments of Malmaison were constantly in progress, and a crowd of workmen spent the nights there, all of whom had been warned not to go out of doors alone. One night when several of these watch-dogs were inside the house with the workmen, and allowing themselves to be caressed, their apparent gentleness inspired one of these men with so much courage, or rather imprudence, that he was not afraid to go out alone. He even thought that, to avoid all danger, he could not do better than put himself under the protection of one of these terrible animals. So he took one with him, and they went together, very amicably, through the doorway; but hardly was he outside when the dog sprang upon his unlucky companion and threw him down. The cries of the poor workman awakened several of the men-servants and they ran to his rescue. It was time, for the dog was keeping him down and choking him cruelly; he was picked up, badly wounded. Madame Bonaparte, on learning this incident, had the man who so narrowly escaped being a victim cared for until he was perfectly cured, and gave him a large gratuity, at the same time recommending him to be more prudent in future.

Every moment that the First Consul could snatch from affairs he spent at Malmaison; the eve of each décadi1 was a festival looked forward to by every one in the château. Madame Bonaparte used to send domestics afoot and on horseback to meet her husband, and even went herself frequently with her daughter and the intimates of Malmaison. When I was not on duty I took the same direction myself, and all alone; for we all had an equal affection for the First Consul and experienced the same anxiety about him. Such was the bitterness and the audacity of the enemies of the First Consul, that the road, though not very long, between Paris and Malmaison was strewn with snares and dangers; we knew that several attempts to abduct him while passing over it had been made and might be repeated. The passage most suspected was that of the quarries of Nanterre, which I have mentioned already; hence they were carefully visited and inspected by the men of the household on the days of the First Consul's visits; in the end they filled up the holes that were nearest the road. The First Consul was pleased with our devotion and let us see his satisfaction, but for his own part seemed always fearless and without anxiety; in fact, he often mocked at us for ours, and would tell the good Josephine very seriously that he had had a fine escape on the road; that men with sinister faces had shown themselves many a time while he was passing; that one of them had had the audacity to take aim at him, etc.; and when he saw her very frightened, he would burst out laughing and give her several taps or kisses on the cheek or neck and say: "Don't be afraid, you great ninny, they would not dare."

He busied himself on these holidays, as he himself called them, more with his private affairs than with those of the State. But he could never remain idle; he was always demolishing, restoring, building, enlarging, planting, pruning in the château and in the park, examining the expense accounts, calculating his income, and prescribing economies. Time passed quickly in all these occupations, and the moment soon came when he must go, as he used to say, to resume the yoke of misery.