Count Casimir had reached that stage
where drunkenness takes on a kind of gravity, of regretfulness.
He thought a little, then began his
story. I regret that I cannot reproduce more
perfectly its archaic flavor.
“When the grapes begin to color
in Antinea’s garden, I shall be sixty-eight.
It is very sad, my dear boy, to have sowed all your
wild oats. It isn’t true that life is always
beginning over again. How bitter, to have known
the Tuileries in 1860, and to have reached the point
where I am now!
“One evening, just before the
war (I remember that Victor Black was still living),
some charming women whose names I need not disclose
(I read the names of their sons from time to time
in the society news of the Gaulois) expressed
to me their desire to rub elbows with some real demi-mondaines
of the artist quarter. I took them to a ball at
the Grande Chaumière. There was a crowd
of young painters, models, students. In the midst
of the uproar, several couples danced the cancan
till the chandeliers shook with it. We noticed
especially a little, dark man, dressed in a miserable
top-coat and checked trousers which assuredly knew
the support of no suspenders. He was cross-eyed,
with a wretched beard and hair as greasy as could be.
He bounded and kicked extravagantly. The ladies
called him Leon Gambetta.
“What an annoyance, when I realize
that I need only have felled this wretched lawyer
with one pistol shot to have guaranteed perfect happiness
to myself and to my adopted country, for, my dear fellow,
I am French at heart, if not by birth.
“I was born in 1829, at Warsaw,
of a Polish father and a Russian mother. It is
from her that I hold my title of Hetman of Jitomir.
It was restored to me by Czar Alexander II on a request
made to him on his visit to Paris, by my august master,
the Emperor Napoleon III.
“For political reasons, which
I cannot describe without retelling the history of
unfortunate Poland, my father, Count Bielowsky, left
Warsaw in 1830, and went to live in London. After
the death of my mother, he began to squander his immense
fortune from sorrow, he said. When,
in his time, he died at the period of the Prichard
affair, he left me barely a thousand pounds sterling
of income, plus two or three systems of gaming, the
impracticability of which I learned later.
“I will never be able to think
of my nineteenth and twentieth years without emotion,
for I then completely liquidated this small inheritance.
London was indeed an adorable spot in those days.
I had a jolly bachelor’s apartment in Piccadilly.
“’Picadilly!
Shops, palaces, bustle and breeze,
The whirling of
wheels and the murmur of trees.’
“Fox hunting in a briska,
driving a buggy in Hyde Park, the rout, not to mention
the delightful little parties with the light Venuses
of Drury Lane, this took all my time. All?
I am unjust. There was also gaming, and a sentiment
of filial piety forced me to verify the systems of
the late Count, my father. It was gaming which
was the cause of the event I must describe to you,
by which my life was to be so strangely changed.
“My friend, Lord Malmesbury,
had said to me a hundred times, ’I must take
you to see an exquisite creature who lives in Oxford
Street, number 277, Miss Howard.’ One evening
I went with him. It was the twenty-second of
February, 1848. The mistress of the house was
really marvelously beautiful, and the guests were
charming. Besides Malmesbury, I observed several
acquaintances: Lord Clebden, Lord Chesterfield,
Sir Francis Mountjoye, Major in the Second Life Guards,
and Count d’Orsay. They played cards
and then began to talk politics. Events in France
played the main part in the conversation and they
discussed endlessly the consequences of the revolt
that had broken out in Paris that same morning, in
consequence of the interdiction of the banquet in
the 12th arrondissement, of which word had just been
received by telegram. Up to that time, I had never
bothered myself with public affairs. So I don’t
know what moved me to affirm with the impetuosity
of my nineteen years that the news from France meant
the Republic next day and the Empire the day after....
“The company received my sally
with a discreet laugh, and their looks were centered
on a guest who made the fifth at a bouillotte
table where they had just stopped playing.
“The guest smiled, too.
He rose and came towards me. I observed that
he was of middle height, perhaps even shorter, buttoned
tightly into a blue frock coat, and that his eye had
a far-off, dreamy look.
“All the players watched this
scene with delighted amusement.
“‘Whom have I the honor
of addressing?’ he asked in a very gentle voice.
“‘Count Bielowsky,’
I answered coolly to show him that the difference
in our ages was not sufficient to justify the interrogation.
“Well, my dear Count, may your
prediction indeed be realized; and I hope that you
will not neglect the Tuileries,’ said the guest
in the blue coat, with a smile.
“And he added, finally consenting to present
himself:
“‘Prince Louis-Napoleon Bonaparte.’
“I played no active rôle in
the coup d’etat, and I do not regret it.
It is a principle with me that a stranger should not
meddle with the internal affairs of a country.
The prince understood this discretion, and did not
forget the young man who had been of such good omen
to him.
“I was one of the first whom
he called to the Elysee. My fortune was definitely
established by a defamatory note on ‘Napoleon
the little.’ The next year, when Mgr.
Sibour was out of the way, I was made Gentleman of
the Chamber, and the Emperor was even so kind as to
have me marry the daughter of the Marshal Repeto,
Duke of Mondovi.
“I have no scruple in announcing
that this union was not what it should have been.
The Countess, who was ten years older than I, was
crabbed and not particularly pretty. Moreover,
her family had insisted resolutely on a marriage portion.
Now I had nothing at this time except the twenty-five
thousand pounds for my appointment as Gentleman of
the Chamber. A sad lot for anyone on intimate
terms with the Count d’Orsay and the Duke
of Gramont-Caderousse! Without the kindness of
the Emperor, where would I have been?
“One morning in the spring of
1852, I was in my study opening my mail. There
was a letter from His Majesty, calling me to the Tuileries
at four o’clock; a letter from Clementine, informing
me that she expected me at five o’clock at her
house. Clementine was the beautiful one for whom,
just then, I was ready to commit any folly. I
was so proud of her that, one evening at the Maison
Doree, I flaunted her before Prince Metternich,
who was tremendously taken with her. All the court
envied me that conquest; and I was morally obliged
to continue to assume its expenses. And then
Clementine was so pretty! The Emperor himself....
The other letters, good lord, the other letters were
the bills of the dressmakers of that young person,
who, in spite of my discreet remonstrances, insisted
on having them sent to my conjugal dwelling.
“There were bills for something
over forty thousand francs: gowns and ball dresses
from Gagelin-Opigez, 23 Rue de Richelieu; hats and
bonnets from Madame Alexandrine, 14 Rue d’Antin;
lingerie and many petticoats from Madame Pauline,
100 Rue de Clery; dress trimmings and gloves from
the Ville de Lyon, 6 Rue de la Chaussee
d’Antin; foulards from the Malle des
Indes; handkerchiefs from the Compagnie Irlandaise;
laces from Ferguson; cosmetics from Candes....
This whitening cream of Candes, in particular,
overwhelmed me with stupefaction. The bill showed
fifty-one flasks. Six hundred and twenty-seven
francs and fifty centimes’ worth of whitening
cream from Candes.... Enough to soften
the skin of a squadron of a hundred guards!
“‘This can’t keep
on,’ I said, putting the bills in my pocket.
“At ten minutes to four, I crossed
the wicket by the Carrousel.
“In the Salon of the aides
de camp I happened on Bacciochi.
“‘The Emperor has the
grippe,’ he said to me. ’He is keeping
to his room. He has given orders to have you
admitted as soon as you arrive. Come.’
“His Majesty, dressed in a braided
vest and Cossack trousers, was meditating before a
window. The pale green of the Tuileries showed
luminously under a gentle warm shower.
“‘Ah! Here he is,’
said Napoleon. ’Here, have a cigarette.
It seems that you had great doings, you and Gramont-Caderousse,
last evening, at the Chateau de Fleurs.’
“I smiled with satisfaction.
“‘So Your Majesty knows already....’
“‘I know, I know vaguely.’
“‘Do you know Gramont-Caderousse’s
last “mot"?’
“‘No, but you are going to tell it to
me.’
“’Here goes, then.
We were five or six: myself, Viel-Castel, Gramont,
Persigny....’
“‘Persigny!’ said
the Emperor. ’He has no right to associate
with Gramont, after all that Paris says about his
wife.’
“’Just so Sire. Well,
Persigny was excited, no doubt about it. He began
telling us how troubled he was because of the Duchess’s
conduct.’
“‘This Fialin isn’t over tactful,’
muttered the Emperor.
“’Just so, Sire.
Then, does Your Majesty know what Gramont hurled at
him?’
“‘What?’
“’He said to him, “Monsieur
lé Duc, I forbid you to speak ill of my mistress
before me.”
“‘Gramont goes too far,’
said Napoleon with a dreamy smile.
“’That is what we all
thought, including Viel-Castel, who was nevertheless
delighted.’
“‘Apropos of this,’
said Napoleon after a silence, ’I have forgotten
to ask you for news of the Countess Bielowsky.’
“‘She is very well, Sire, I thank Your
Majesty,’
“‘And Clementine? Still the same
dear child?’
“‘Always, Sire. But....’
“‘It seems that M. Baroche is madly in
love with her.’
“’I am very much honored,
Sire. But this honor becomes too burdensome.’
“I had drawn from my pocket
that morning’s bills and I spread them out under
the eyes of the Emperor.
“He looked at them with his distant smile.
“’Come, come. If
that is all, I can fix that, since I have a favor to
ask of you.’
“‘I am entirely at Your Majesty’s
service.’
“He struck a gong.
“‘Send for M. Mocquard.’
“‘I have the grippe,’
he said. ’Mocquard will explain the affair
to you.’
“The Emperor’s private secretary entered.
“‘Here is Bielowsky, Mocquard,’
said Napoleon. ’You know what I want him
to do. Explain it to him.’
“And he began to tap on the
window-panes against which the rain was beating furiously.
“‘My dear Count,’
said Mocquard, taking a chair, ’it is very simple.
You have doubtless heard of a young explorer of promise,
M. Henry Duveyrier.’
“I shook my head as a sign of
negation, very much surprised at this beginning.
“‘M. Duveyrier,’
continued Mocquard, ’has returned to Paris after
a particularly daring trip to South Africa and the
Sahara. M. Vivien de Saint Martin, whom I have
seen recently has assured me that the Geographical
Society intends to confer its great gold medal upon
him, in recognition of these exploits. In the
course of his trip, M. Duveyrier has entered into
negotiations with the chief of the people who always
have been so rebellious to His Majesty’s armies,
the Tuareg.’
“I looked at the Emperor.
My bewilderment was such that he began to laugh.
“‘Listen,’ he said.
“‘M. Duveyrier,’
continued Mocquard, ’was able to arrange to have
a delegation of these chiefs come to Paris to present
their respects to His Majesty. Very important
results may arise from this visit, and His Excellency
the Colonial Minister, does not despair of obtaining
the signature of a treaty of commerce, reserving special
advantages to our fellow countrymen. These chiefs,
five of them, among them Sheik Otham, Amenokol
or Sultan of the Confederation of Adzjer, arrive to-morrow
morning at the Gare de Lyon. M. Duveyrier
will meet them. But the Emperor has thought that
besides....’
“‘I thought,’ said
Napoleon III, delighted by my bewilderment, ’I
thought that it was correct to have some one of the
Gentlemen of my Chamber wait upon the arrival of these
Mussulman dignitaries. That is why you are here,
my poor Bielowsky. Don’t be frightened,’
he added, laughing harder. ’You will have
M. Duveyrier with you. You are charged only with
the special part of the reception: to accompany
these princes to the lunch that I am giving them to-morrow
at the Tuileries; then, in the evening, discreetly
on account of their religious scruples, to succeed
in giving them a very high idea of Parisian civilization,
with nothing exaggerated: do not forget that in
the Sahara they are very high religious dignitaries.
In that respect, I have confidence in your tact and
give you carte blanche.... Mocquard!’
“‘Sire?’
“’You will apportion on
the budget, half to Foreign Affairs, half to the Colonies,
the funds Count Bielowsky will need for the reception
of the Tuareg delegation. It seems to me that
a hundred thousand francs, to begin.... The Count
has only to tell you if he is forced to exceed that
figure.’
“Clementine lived on the Rue
Boccador, in a little Moorish pavilion that I had
bought for her from M. de Lesseps. I found her
in bed. When she saw me, she burst into tears.
“‘Great fools that we
are!’ she murmured amidst her sobs, ’what
have we done!’
“‘Clementine, tell me!’
“‘What have we done, what
have we done!’ she repeated, and I felt against
me, her floods of black hair, her warm cheek which
was fragrant with eau de Nanon.
“‘What is it? What can it be?’
“‘It is....’ and she murmured something
in my ear.
“‘No!’ I said, stupefied. ‘Are
you quite sure?’
“‘Am I quite sure!’
“I was thunderstruck.
“‘You don’t seem much pleased,’
she said sharply.
“’I did not say that....
Though, really, I am very much pleased, I assure you.’
“‘Prove it to me: let us spend the
day together tomorrow.’
“‘To-morrow!’ I stammered.
‘Impossible!’
“‘Why?’ she demanded suspiciously.
“’Because to-morrow, I
have to pilot the Tuareg mission about Paris.
The Emperor’s orders.’
“‘What bluff is this?’ asked Clementine.
“‘I admit that nothing so much resembles
a lie as the truth.’
“I retold Mocquard’s story
to Clementine, as well as I could. She listened
to me with an expression that said: ’you
can’t fool me that way.’
“Finally, furious, I burst out:
“’You can see for yourself.
I am dining with them, tomorrow; and I invite you.’
“‘I shall be very pleased
to come,’ said Clementine with great dignity.
“I admit that I lacked self-control
at that minute. But think what a day it had been!
Forty thousand francs of bills as soon as I woke up.
The ordeal of escorting the savages around Paris all
the next day. And, quite unexpectedly, the announcement
of an approaching irregular paternity....
“‘After all,’ I
thought, as I returned to my house, ’these are
the Emperor’s orders. He has commanded
me to give the Tuareg an idea of Parisian civilization.
Clementine comports herself very well in society and
just now it would not do to aggravate her. I will
engage a room for to-morrow at the Cafe de Paris,
and tell Gramont-Caderousse and Viel-Castel to bring
their silly mistresses. It will be very French
to enjoy the attitude of these children of the desert
in the midst of this little party.’
“The train from Marseilles arrived
at 10:20. On the platform I found M. Duveyrier,
a young man of twenty-three with blue eyes and a little
blond beard. The Tuareg fell into his arms as
they descended from the train. He had lived with
them for two years, in their tents, the devil knows
where. He presented me to their chief, Sheik Otham,
and to four others, splendid fellows in their blue
cotton draperies and their amulets of red leather.
Fortunately, they all spoke a kind of sabir
which helped things along.
“I only mention in passing the
lunch at the Tuileries, the visits in the evening
to the Museum, to the Hotel de Ville, to the
Imperial Printing Press. Each time, the Tuareg
inscribed their names in the registry of the place
they were visiting. It was interminable.
To give you an idea, here is the complete name of
Sheik Otham alone: Otham-ben-el-Hadj-el-Bekri-ben-el-Hadj-el-Faqqi-ben-Mohammad-Bouya-ben-si-Ahmed-es-Souki-ben-Mahmoud.
“And there were five of them like that!
“I maintained my good humor,
however, because on the boulevards, everywhere, our
success was colossal. At the Cafe de Paris,
at six-thirty, it amounted to frenzy. The delegation,
a little drunk, embraced me: ’Bono,
Napoleon, bono, Eugenie; bono, Casimir; bono, Christians.’
Gramont-Caderousse and Viel-Castel were already in
booth number eight, with Anna Grimaldi, of the Folies
Dramatiques, and Hortense Schneider, both beautiful
enough to strike terror to the heart. But the
palm was for my dear Clementine, when she entered.
I must tell you how she was dressed: a gown of
white tulle, over China blue tarletan, with pleatings,
and ruffles of tulle over the pleatings. The
tulle skirt was caught up on each side by garlands
of green leaves mingled with rose clusters. Thus
it formed a valence which allowed the tarletan skirt
to show in front and on the sides. The garlands
were caught up to the belt and, in the space between
their branches, were knots of rose satin with long
ends. The pointed bodice was draped with tulle,
the billowy bertha of tulle was edged with lace.
By way of head-dress, she had placed upon her black
locks a diadem crown of the same flowers. Two
long leafy tendrils were twined in her hair and fell
on her neck. As cloak, she had a kind of scarf
of blue cashmere embroidered in gold and lined with
blue satin.
“So much beauty and splendor
immediately moved the Tuareg and, especially, Clementine’s
right-hand neighbor, El-Hadj-ben-Guemama, brother
of Sheik Otham and Sultan of Ahaggar. By the time
the soup arrived, a bouillon of wild game, seasoned
with Tokay, he was already much smitten. When
they served the compote of fruits Martinique a la
liqueur de Mme. Amphoux, he showed every indication
of illimitable passion. The Cyprian wine de
la Commanderie made him quite sure of his sentiments.
Hortense kicked my foot under the table. Gramont,
intending to do the same to Anna, made a mistake and
aroused the indignant protests of one of the Tuareg.
I can safely say that when the time came to go to
Mabille, we were enlightened as to the manner in which
our visitors respected the prohibition decreed by the
Prophet in respect to wine.
“At Mabille, while Clementine,
Hortense, Anna, Ludovic and the three Tuareg gave
themselves over to the wildest gallops, Sheik Otham
took me aside and confided to me, with visible emotion,
a certain commission with which he had just been charged
by his brother, Sheik Ahmed.
“The next day, very early, I reached Clementine’s
house.
“‘My dear,’ I began,
after having waked her, not without difficulty, ‘listen
to me. I want to talk to you seriously.’
“She rubbed her eyes a bit crossly.
“’How did you like that
young Arabian gentleman who was so taken with you
last night?’
“‘Why, well enough,’ she said, blushing.
“’Do you know that in
his country, he is the sovereign prince and reigns
over territories five or six times greater than those
of our august master, the Emperor Napoleon III?’
“‘He murmured something
of that kind to me,’ she said, becoming interested.
“’Well, would it please
you to mount on a throne, like our august sovereign,
the Empress Eugenie?’
“Clementine, looked startled.
“’His own brother, Sheik
Otham, has charged me in his name to make this offer.’
“Clementine, dumb with amazement, did not reply.
“‘I, Empress!’ she finally stammered.
“’The decision rests with
you. They must have your answer before midday.
If it is ‘yes,’ we lunch together at Voisin’s,
and the bargain is made.’
“I saw that she had already
made up her mind, but she thought it well to display
a little sentiment.
“‘And you, you!’
she groaned. ‘To leave you thus....
Never!’
“‘No foolishness, dear
child,’ I said gently. ’You don’t
know perhaps that I am ruined. Yes, completely:
I don’t even know how I am going to pay for
your complexion cream!’
“‘Ah!’ she sighed.
“She added, however, ‘And ... the child?’
“‘What child?’
“‘Our child ... our child.’
“’Ah! That is so.
Why, you will have to put it down to profit and loss.
I am even convinced that Sheik Ahmed will find that
it resembles him.’
“‘You can turn everything
into a joke,’ she said between laughing and
crying.
“The next morning, at the same
hour, the Marseilles express carried away the five
Tuareg and Clementine. The young woman, radiant,
was leaning on the arm of Sheik Ahmed, who was beside
himself with joy.
“‘Have you many shops
in your capital?’ she asked him languidly.
“And he, smiling broadly under his veil, replied:
“‘Besef, bésef, bono, roumis, bono.’
“At the last moment, Clementine had a pang of
emotion.
“’Listen, Casimir, you
have always been kind to me. I am going to be
a queen. If you weary of it here, promise me,
swear to me....’
“The Sheik had understood.
He took a ring from his finger and slipped it onto
mine.
“‘Sidi Casimir, comrade,’
he affirmed. ’You come find us.
Take Sidi Ahmed’s ring and show it. Everybody
at Ahaggar comrades. Bono Ahaggar, bono.’
“When I came out of the Gare
de Lyon, I had the feeling of having perpetrated
an excellent joke.”
The Hetman of Jitomir was completely
drunk. I had had the utmost difficulty in understanding
the end of his story, because he interjected, every
other moment, couplets from Jacques Offenbach’s
best score.
Dans un bois passait un jeune homme,
Un jeune homme frais et beau, Sa main tenait
une pomme, Vous voyez d’ici lé tableau.
“Who was disagreeably surprised
by the fall of Sedan? It was Casimir, poor old
Casimir! Five thousand louis to pay by
the fifth of September, and not the first sou, no,
not the first sou. I take my hat and my courage
and go to the Tuileries. No more Emperor there,
no! But the Empress was so kind. I found
her alone ah, people scatter quickly under
such circumstances! alone, with a senator,
M. Merimee, the only literary man I have ever known
who was at the same time a man of the world.
‘Madame,’ he was saying to her, ’you
must give up all hope. M. Thiers, whom I just
met on the Pont Royal, would listen to nothing.’
“‘Madame,’ I said
in my turn, ’Your Majesty always will know where
her true friends are.’
“And I kissed her hand.
“Evohe,
que les déesses
Out
de drôles de façons
Pour enjôler, pour enjôler,
pour enjôler les gaaarcons!
“I returned to my home in the
Rue de Lille. On the way I encountered the rabble
going from the Corps Legislatif to the Hotel
de Ville. My mind was made up.
“‘Madame,’ I said to my wife, ‘my
pistols.’
“‘What is the matter?’ she asked,
frightened.
“’All is lost. But
there is still a chance to preserve my honor.
I am going to be killed on the barricades.’
“‘Ah! Casimir,’
she sobbed, falling into my arms. ’I have
misjudged you. Will you forgive me?’
“‘I forgive you, Aurelie,’
I said with dignified emotion. ’I have not
always been right myself.’
“I tore myself away from this
mad scene. It was six o’clock. On the
Rue de Bac, I hailed a cab on its mad career.
“‘Twenty francs tip,’
I said to the coachman, ’if you get to the Gare
de Lyon in time for the Marseilles train, six thirty-seven.’”
The Hetman of Jitomir could say no
more. He had rolled over on the cushions and
slept with clenched fists.
I walked unsteadily to the great window.
The sun was rising, pale yellow, behind the sharp
blue mountains.