When tidings come that the Emperor will arrive on September 2, and prolong their stay from Paris, there is general lamentation among Josephine's womenkind, especially on the part of that perennial wet blanket and busybody, Madame de Larochefoucauld, who will make herself a still greater nuisance at Mayence two years later.
No. 4.
During the past week.—As a matter of fact he only reached Ostend on April 12th from Boulogne, having left Dunkirk on the 11th.
The day after to-morrow.—This fête was the distribution of the Legion of Honour at Boulogne and a review of 80,000 men. The decorations were enshrined in the helmet of Bertrand du Guesclin, which in its turn was supported on the shield of the Chevalier Bayard.
Hortense arrived at Boulogne, with her son, and the Prince and Princess Murat, a few days later, and saw the Emperor. Josephine received a letter from Hortense soon after Napoleon joined her (September 2nd), to which she replied on September 8th. "The Emperor has read your letter; he has been rather vexed not to hear from you occasionally. He would not doubt your kind heart if he knew it as well as I, but appearances are against you. Since he can think you are neglecting him, lose no time in repairing the wrongs which are not real," for "Bonaparte loves you like his own child, which adds much to my affection for him."
I am very well satisfied ... with the flotillas.—The descent upon England was to have taken place in September, when the death of Admiral Latouche-Tréville at Toulon, August 19th, altered all Napoleon's plans. Just about this time also Fulton submitted his steamship invention to Bonaparte. The latter, however, had recently been heavily mulcted in other valueless discoveries, and refers Fulton to the savants of the Institute, who report it chimerical and impracticable. The fate of England probably lay in the balance at this moment, more than in 1588 or 1798.
Napoleon and Josephine leave Aix for Cologne on September 12, and it is now the ladies' turn to institute a hunt—the "real chamois hunt"; for each country inn swarms with this pestilence that walketh in darkness, and which, alas! is no respecter of persons.
No. 5.