exander's arms during frequent visits, which was
indicative of strongly formed affection.

Had Josephine been possessed of a grain of discernment or a proper
estimate of her dignity, she would have seen that this was part of a
well-defined policy of striking a blow through her at the man she
professed to love still, even with a greater passion now that he was
the victim of combined and unrelenting hostility. Hortense, it would
appear, refused at first to have any dealings with Alexander, but this
sovereign's personal charms, winning manners, and homely ways soon
fascinated and captured her. She may be excused, but her mother did
not act the part of a nobleminded woman, and her memory must bear the
reproach of it.

Apart from the respect she owed to herself, she should have remembered
the duty and loyalty she owed to a vast French public, and to the
victim of her guests, who had been to her the most forgiving,
indulgent friend that ever a human soul was blessed with. He had been
a father to her children, and even when he was overwhelmed with the
consequences of great disaster, his tenderest and most generous
thoughts were sent to her.

A woman who had a high sense of duty and honour would not have
accepted a single favour from either one or the other of the inimical
sovereigns, even if it had been offered to her; much less would she
have cringed and whined indelicately in order that she might receive
either their smiles or their favours at so abhorrent a price.

Some writers have endeavoured to give Josephine credit for having
influenced Alexander in a way that secured for Napoleon better terms
than he would have otherwise got at the first abdication. The
suggestion is ludicrous. Presumably the alternative was that he should
be shot or confined in a fortress for the balance of his life. Either
of these ideas of disposing of his person would have created reaction
and public vengeance. The Allies shied at this, though some of the
most ferocious, but by no means the bravest, of the set clamoured for
shooting, which is always the way with spurious heroes.

The diplomats amongst them devised the more subtle plan of exiling him
first to Elba with the title of Emperor, and a pension of L200,000 per
annum, never a penny of which was paid, or, in the light of history,
was ever intended to be paid.

They had preconceived the notion of masking the St. Helena plan until
they thought they had cheated the public into believing