At the end of a review which had taken place in the court of the Tuileries, and on the Place du Carrousel, the Emperor went up to his apartments, and threw his hat on one sofa, his sword on another.  Little Napoleon entered, took his uncle’s sword, passed the belt round his neck, put the hat on his head, and then kept step gravely, humming a march behind the Emperor and Empress.  Her Majesty, turning round, saw him, and caught him in her arms, exclaiming, “What a pretty picture!” Ingenious in seizing every occasion to please her husband, the Empress summoned M. Gerard, and ordered a portrait of the young prince in this costume; and the picture was brought to the palace of Saint-Cloud the very day on which the Empress heard of the death of this beloved child.

He was hardly three years old when, seeing his shoemaker’s bill paid with five-franc pieces, he screamed loudly, not wishing that they should give away the picture of his Uncle Bibiche.  The name of Bibiche thus given by the young prince to his Majesty originated in this manner.  The Empress had several gazelles placed in the park of Saint-Cloud, which were very much afraid of all the inhabitants of the palace except the Emperor, who allowed them to eat tobacco out of his snuff-box, and thus induced them to follow him, and took much pleasure in giving them the tobacco by the hands of the little Napoleon, whom he also put on the back of one of them.  The latter designated these pretty animals by no other name than that of Bibiche, and amused himself by giving the same name to his uncle.

This charming child, who was adored by both father and mother, used his almost magical influence over each in order to reconcile them to each other.  He took his father by the hand, who allowed himself to be thus conducted by this angel of peace to Queen Hortense, and then said to him, “Kiss her, papa, I beg you;” and was perfectly overjoyed when he had thus succeeded in reconciling these two beings whom he loved with an equal affection.

How could such a beautiful character fail to make this angel beloved by all who knew him?  How could the Emperor, who loved all children, fail to be devoted to him, even had he not been his nephew, and the godson of that good Josephine whom he never ceased to love for a single instant?  At the age of seven years, when that malady, the croup, so dangerous to children, snatched him from his heart-broken family, he already gave evidence of remarkable traits of character, which were the foundation of most brilliant hopes.  His proud and haughty character, while rendering him susceptible of the noblest impressions, was not incompatible with obedience and docility.  The idea of injustice was revolting to him; but he readily submitted to reasonable advice and rightful authority.