hich was always most kindly granted.
This young woman, who had dared to rival Madame Bonaparte in elegance,
ended by marrying, I think, an English jockey, led a most unhappy life,
and died in a miserable condition.

The First Consul of the French Republic, now become Emperor of the
French, could no longer be satisfied with the title of President of
Italy. Therefore, when new deputies of the Cisalpine Republic passed
over the mountains, and gathered at Paris for consultation, they
conferred on his Majesty the title of King of Italy, which he accepted,
and a few days after his acceptance he set out for Milan, where he was to
be crowned.

I returned with the greatest pleasure to that beautiful country, of
which, notwithstanding the fatigues and dangers of war, I retained the
most delightful recollections. How different the circumstances now! As
a sovereign the Emperor was now about to cross the Alps, Piedmont, and
Lombardy, each gorge, each stream, each defile of which we had been
obliged in a former visit to carry by force of arms. In 1800 the escort
of the First Consul was a warlike army; in 1805 it was a peaceful
procession of chamberlains, pages, maids of honor, and officers of the
palace.

Before his departure the Emperor held in his arms at the baptismal font,
in company with Madame his mother, Prince Napoleon Louis, second son of
his brother Prince Louis. [The third son lived to become Napoleon III.]
The three sons of Queen Hortense had, if I am not much mistaken, the
Emperor as godfather; but he loved most tenderly the eldest of the three,
Prince Napoleon Charles, who died at the age of five years, Prince Royal
of Holland. I shall speak afterwards of this lovely child, whose death
threw his father and mother into the most overwhelming grief, was the
cause of great sorrow to the Emperor, and may be considered as the source
of the gravest events.

After the baptismal fetes we set out for Italy, accompanied by the
Empress Josephine. Whenever it was convenient the Emperor liked to take
her with him; but she always desired to accompany her husband, whether or
not this was the case.

The Emperor usually kept his journey a profound secret up to the moment
of his departure, and ordered at midnight horses for his departure to
Mayence or Milan, exactly as if a hunt at Saint-Cloud or Rambouillet was
in question.

On one of his journeys (I do not remember which), his Majesty had decided
not to take the Empress Josephin