Democratic Sentinel, Volume 7, Number 5, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 2 March 1883 — NAPOLEON'S THREE WARNINGS. [ARTICLE]

NAPOLEON'S THREE WARNINGS.

The celebrated Fouche, Duke of Otranto, sometime Chief of Police to Napoleon, was retained but a short time, it is known, in the service of the Bourbons after their restoration to the throne of France. He retired to the town of Aix, in Provence, and there lived in affluence and ease upon the gains of his long and busy career. On one occasion the company assembled in his salon heard from his lips the following story: I. By degrees, as Napoleon assumed the power and authority of a king, everything about him, even in the days of the Consulate, began to wear a court-like appearance. All the old monarchical habitudes were revived, one by one. Among other revivals of this kind, the custom of attending mass previous to the hour of audience was restored by Bonaparte, and he himself was punctual in his appearance at the Chapel of St. Cloud on such occasions. Nothing could be more mundane than the mode of performing these religious services. The actresses' of the opera were the chorists, and great crowds of talkative people were in the habit of frequenting the gallery of the chapel, from the windows of whidKlihe First Consul and Josephine cpgild be seen with their suites and Jrterfds. The whole formed merely a daily exhibition of the Consular court for the people. At one particular time the punctuality of Bonaparte id his attendance on mass was rather distressing to his wife. The quick and jealous Josephine had discovered that the eyes of her husband was too much directed to a window in the gallery where there regularly appeared the face and form of a young girl of uncommon beauty. The chestnut tresses, the brilliant eyes and graceful figure of this personage caused the more uneasiness to the Consul’s wife, as the stranger’s glances were bent not less often upon Bonaparte than his were upon her. “Who is that young girl?” said Josephine, one day, at the close of the service; “what can she seek from the First Consul ? I observed her drop a billet just now at his feet. He picked it up—l saw him.” No one could tell Josephine who the object of her notice precisely was, though there were some who declared her to be an emigree lately returned, and who probably was desirous of the intervention of the First Consul in favor of her family. With such guesses as this the Consul’s wife was obliged to rest satisfied for the time. After the audience of that same day had passed, Bonaparte expressed a wish for a drive in the park, and accordingly went out attended by his wife, his brother Joseph, Duroc and Hortense Beauharnais. The King of Prussia had just presented Napoleon with a superb set of horses, four in number, and they were harnessed to an open chariot for the party. The Consul took it into his head to drive in person, andYnounted into the coachman’s seat. The chariot set off, but just as it was turning into the park, it went crash against a stone at the gate, and the First Consul was thrown to the ground. He attempted to rise, but again fell prostrate in a stunned and insensible condition. Meanwhile the horses sprang forward with the chariot, and were only stopped when Duroc, at the risk of his life, threw himself out and seized the loose reins. Josephine was taken out in a swooning condition. The rest of the party speedily returned to Napoleon, and carried him back to his apartments. On recovering his senses fully, the first thing which he did was to put. his hand into his pocket and pull out the slip of paper dropped at his feet in the chapel. Looking over his shoulder, Josephine read upon it these words: “Do not drive out in your carriage this day." “This can have no allusion to our late accident,” said Bonaparte. “No one could that I was to play the part of a cSqphman to-day, or that I should be awkward enough to drive against a stone. Go, Duroc, and ex- , amine the chariot.” Duroc obeyed. Soon after he returned, very "pale, and took the First Consul aside, ! ‘Citizen Consul,” said he, “had you not struck the stone and stopped our drive, we had all been lost.” “How so?” was the reply. “There was in the carriage, concealed behind the rear seat, a massive bomb, charged with ragged pieces of iron, with a slow match, and kindled. Things had been so arranged that in a quarter of an hour we should have been scattered among the trees of the Park of St. Cloud. Fouche must be told of this. Dubois must be warned.” Y “Not a word to them,” replied Bonaparte. “The knowledge of one plot engenders a second. Let Josephine remain ignorant of the danger she has escaped. Hortense, Joseph, Cambaceres —tell none of them; and let the Government journals say not a word about my fall. The First Consul was then silent for some time. “Duroc,” he said at length, “you will * oome to-morrow at mass and examine •with attention a young girl whom I shall point out to you. She will occupy the fourth window in the gallery on the right. Follow her home, or cause her to be fallowed, and bring me intelligence of her name, her abode and her circumstances. It will be better to do

this yourself; I would not have the police interfere in this matter.” On the morrow the eyes of more than one person were turned _tothe window in the gallery. But Josephine sought in vain for the graceful figure of the young girl. She was not there. The impatient First Consul and his confidant, Duroc, were greatly annoyed at her non-appearance, and small was the attention paid by them to the services that day. Their anxiety was fruitless. The girl was seen at mass no more. n. The summers of Napoleon were spent chiefly at Malmaison—the winter at Saint Cloud and the Tuileries. Winter had come on, and the First Consul had been holding court in the great apartments of the last of these palaces. It was the third of that month, which the Republicans well called Nivose, and in the evening Bonaparte entered his carriage to go to the opera, accompanied by his aid-de-camp, Lauriston, .and Generals Lannes and Berthier. The vehicle was about to start when a female, wrapped in a black mantle, rushed out upon the Place Carousal, made her way into the midst of the guards about to accompany Bonaparte, and held forth a paper to the latter, crying: “Citizen Consul, Citizen Consul,read! read! 1” Bonaparte, with that smile which Bourrienne describes as irresistable, saluted the petitioner and stretched out his hand for the missive. “A petition, madam ?” said he, inquiringly, and then continued: “Fear nothing; I shall peruse it and see justice done.” “Citizen Consul”—cried the woman, imploringly joining her hands. What she would have further said was lost. The coachman, who, it was afterwards said, was intoxicated, gave the lash to the horses, and they sprang off with the speed of lightening. The Consul, throwing into his hat the paper he has received, remarked to his companions: “I could not well see her figure, but T think the poor woman is young.” The carriage dashed along rapidly. It was just issuing from the street of St. Nicholas when a frightful detonation was heard mingling with and followed by the.crash of broken windows and the cries of injured passers-by. The infernal machine had exploded. Uninjured, the carriage of the Consul and its inmates was whirled with undiminished rapidity to the opera. Bonaparte entered his box with serene brow and unruffled deportment. He saluted, as usual, the assembled spectators, to whom the news of the explosion came with all the speed which rumor exercises upon such occasions. All were stunned and stupefied. Bonaparte only was perfectly calm. He stood with crossed arms, listening attentively to the oratorio of Haydn, which was executed on that evening. Suddenly, however, he remembered the paper put into his hands. He took it out and read these lined: “In the name of heaven, Citizen Consul, do not go to the opera to-night, or, if you do go, pass not through the street of St. Nicholas.” On reading these words the Consul chanced to raise his eyes. Exactly opposite to him, in a box on the third tier, sat the young girl of the chapel at St. Cloud, who, with joined hands, seemed to utter prayers of gratitude for the escape which had taken place. Her head had no covering but her flowing and beautiful chestnut hair, and her person was wrapped in a dark mantle, which the Consul recognized as identical with that worn by the woman who had de-: livered the paper to him at the carriage door on the Place Carousal. “Go,”he said, quietly but quickly, to Lannes; “go to the box exactly opposite to us, and the third tier. You will find a young girl in a black mantle. Bring her to the Tuileries. I must see her, and without delay.” Bonaparte spoke thus, and without raising his eyes, but to make Lennes certain of the person he took the General’s arm and said, pointing upward, “See there—look!” Bonaparte stopped suddenly. The girl was gone. No black mantle was to be seen. Annoyed at this beyond measure, he hurriedly sent off Lannes to intercept her. It was in vain. The boxkeeper had seen such an individual, but knew nothing about her. Bonaparte applied to Fouche and Dubois, but all the zeal in these functionaries failed to find her. in. Years ran on after the explosion of the infernal machine and the strange accompanying circumstances which tended to make the occurrence more remarkable in the eyes of Bonaparte. To the Consulate succeeded the Empire, and victory after victory marked the career of the great Corsican. At length the hour of change came. Allied Europe poured its troops into France, and comp. I'.ed the Emperor to laydown the scepter which had been so long shaken in terror over half of the civilized world. The Isle of Elba became for a few days the most remarkable spot on the globe, and finally the resuscitated empire fell to pieces anew on the field of Waterloo. Bonaparte was about to quit France. The moment had come for him to set foot in the bark which was to convey him to the English vessel. Friends who had followed the fallen chief to the very last were standing by to give him a final adieu. He waived his hand to those around, and a smile was on the lip which had given the farewell kiss to the imperial eagle. At this instant a woman broke through the band that stood before Napoleon. She was in the prime of woman’s life; not a girl, yet young enough to return unimpaired that beauty for which she had been remarkable among a crowd of beauties. Her features were full of -anxiety and sadness, adding interest to her appearance even at such a moment. “Sire! Sire!” said she, presenting a paper hurriedly: “read! read!” The Emperor took the paper presented to him. He shook his head and held up the paper to his eyes. After perusing its contents he took it between his hands and tore it to pieces, scattering the fragments in the air. “Stop, sire!” cried the woman. Follow the advice! Be warned—it is yet time!” “No,” replied Napoleon. And, taking from his finger a beautiful Oriental ru-. by x a valuable souvenir of his Egyptian campaigns, he held it out to the woman. She took it, kneeling, and kissed the hand which presented it. Turning his head, Napoleon then stepped into the boat which awaited to take him to the vessel. The vessel took him to the barren rock of St. Helena. And there he died. Thus, of the three warnings, two were useless, because neglected until the danger had occurred, and the third, which prognosticated the fate of Napoleon, if

once in the power of his adversaries — the third was rejected. “But who was this woman, Duke of Otranto?” “That,” replied Fouche, “I know not with certainty. The Emperor* if he knew ultimately, seems to have kept the secret. All that is known respecting the matter is that a female related to Saint Regent, one of the authors of the explosion of the street St. Nicholas, died at the hospital Hotel Dieu, in 1837, and that around her neck was suspended, by a silk ribbon, the exquisite oriental ruby of Napoleon.”