of his family, and Madame Charvet often acted as private secretary to
Madame Bonaparte.

Mademoiselle Louise, who became my wife, and Mademoiselle Zoe, her
younger sister, were favorites of Madame Bonaparte, especially the
latter, who passed more time than Louise at Malmaison. The condescension
of their noble protectress had rendered this child so familiar, that she
said thou habitually to Madame Bonaparte. One day she said to her, "Thou
art happy. Thou hast no mamma to scold thee when thou tearest thy
dresses."

During one of the campaigns that I made while in the service of the
Emperor, I wrote to my wife, inquiring about the life that her sister led
at Malmaison. In her answer, among other things, she said (I copy a
passage from one of her letters): "Sometimes we take part in performances
such as I had never dreamed of. For instance, one evening the saloon was
divided in half by a gauze curtain, behind which was a bed arranged in
Greek style, on which a man lay asleep, clothed in long white drapery.
Near the sleeper Madame Bonaparte and the other ladies beat in unison
(not in perfect accord, however) on bronze vases, making, as you may
imagine, a terrible kind of music. During this charivari, one of the
gentlemen held me around the waist, and raised me from the ground, while
I shook my arms and legs in time to the music. The concert of these
ladies awoke the sleeper, who stared wildly at me, frightened at my
gestures, then sprang up and ran with all his might, followed by my
brother, who crept on all fours, representing a dog, I think, which
belonged to this strange person. As I was then a mere child, I have only
a confused idea of all this; but the society of Madame Bonaparte seemed
to be much occupied with similar amusements."