t 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.

First-born of the new dynasty, it was fitting he should attract as he did
the deepest tenderness and solicitude of the chief. Malignity and envy,
which ever seek to defame and villify the great, gave slanderous
explanations of this almost paternal attachment; but wise and thoughtful
men saw in this adoptive tenderness only what it plainly evinced,--the
desire and hope of transmitting his immense power, and the grandest name
in the universe, to an heir, indirect it is true, but of imperial blood,
and who, reared under the eyes, and by the direction of the Emperor,
would have been to him all that a son could be. The death of the young
Napoleon appeared as a forerunner of misfortunes in the midst of his
glorious career, disarranging all the plans which the monarch had
conceived, and decided him to concentrate all his hopes on an heir in a
direct line.

It was then that the first thoughts of divorce arose in his mind, though
it did not take place until two years later, and only began to be the
subject of private conversation during the stay at Fontainebleau. The
Empress readily saw the fatal results to her of the death of this godson,
and from that time she dwelt upon the idea of this terrible event which
ruined her life. This premature death was to her an inconsolable grief;
and she shut herself up for three days, weeping bitterly, seeing no one
except her women, and taking almost no nourishment. It even seemed that
she feared to be distracted from her grief, as she surrounded herself
with a sort of avidity with all that could recall her irreparable loss.
She obtained with some difficulty from Queen Hortense some of the young
prince's hair, which his heart-broken mother religiously preserved; and
the Empress had this hair framed on a cushion of black velvet, and kept
it always near her. I often saw it at Malmaison, and never without deep
emotion.

But how can I attempt to describe the despair of Queen Hortense, of that
woman who became as perfect a mother as she had been