To this the Marquis bowed assent, saying that in all his general remarks the party present, of course, was not included.  All the ladies, who were well acquainted with his absent and blundering conversation, very good-humouredly laughed, and Madame Murat assured him that if he would give her the address of the belle in France who had transformed a gallant Frenchman into a chevalier of British beauty, she would attempt to make up their difference.  “She is no more, Madame,” said the Marquis; “she was, unfortunately, guillotined two days before——­” the father of Madame Louis, he was going to say, when Talleyrand interrupted him with a significant look, and said, “Before the fall of Robespierre, you mean.”

From these and other traits of the Marquis’s character, you may see that he erred more from absence of mind than any premeditation to give offence.  He received, however, the next morning, a lettre de cachet from Fouche, which exiled him to Blois, and forbade him to return to Paris without further orders from the Minister of Police.  I know, from high authority, that to the interference of Princesse Louis alone is he indebted for not being shut up in the Temple, and, perhaps, transported to our colonies, for having depreciated the power and means of France to invade England.  I am perfectly convinced that none of those who spoke on the subject of the invasion expressed anything but what they really thought; and that, of the whole party, none, except Talleyrand, the Marquis, and myself, entertained the least doubt of the success of the expedition; so firmly did they rely on the former fortune of Bonaparte, his boastings, and his assurance.

After dinner I had an opportunity of conversing for ten minutes with Madame Louis Bonaparte, whom I found extremely amiable, but I fear that she is not happy.  Her husband, though the most stupid, is, however, the best tempered of the Bonapartes, and seemed very attentive and attached to her.  She was far advanced in her pregnancy, and looked, notwithstanding, uncommonly well.  I have heard that Louis is inclined to inebriation, and when in that situation is very brutal to his wife, and very indelicate with other women before her eyes.  He intrigues with her own servants and the number of his illegitimate children is said to be as many as his years.  She asked General Murat to present me and recommend me to Fouche, which he did with great politeness; and the Minister assured me that he should be glad to see me at his hotel, which I much doubt.  The last words Madame Louis said to me, in showing me a princely crown, richly set with diamonds, and given her by her brother-in-law, Napoleon, were, “Alas! grandeur is not always happiness, nor the most elevated the most fortunate lot.”

LETTER XVII.

Paris, August, 1805.