This is part of a series by Mlle. Cochelet, who was Napoleon’s stepdaughter Hortense’s “reader”. From this book, it seems to me the author fulfilled the duties of what we today would call a personal assistant. Mlle. Cochelet and Hortense had gone to boarding school together at Saint Germain - Madame Campan’s school.
These recollections below are from her memoirs called “Napoleon and Queen Hortense.”
When we last left off, Hortense was running her health down conforming to her palace duties as required by Napoleon. The year is 1813.
Louise Cochelet writes.
- we had eyes tired of seeing everywhere only dresses covered with gold and silver embroidery. On Fat Sunday, I went to dinner with the Duchess of Bassano and spent the evening there.
Suddenly we got the idea to wear masks. Me, I'm wearing a Neapolitan costume, Mme. Ducrest and Mme. de Villeneuve dressed as old people, Anatole de Lawoestine, an Armenian, and all the other people are adjusting into different costumes using everything they can find, when at ten o'clock arrives M. de Grandcourt, wearing Brunet's costume from the Deux Magots.
M. de Grandcourt, who still continued to play a character by portraying an intimate adviser to the fire king of Poland.
He was a funny old man, whom Mme. d'Emstatt and I often took for jester, and he loved it.
God knows what joy he aroused when he arrived that evening! Amid the bursts of our laughter, a crazy idea comes to mind; I have it communicated to everyone.
We send for three carriages, and here we are twelve masked people, leaving from rue du Bac, to go and visit the Arsenal.
Who are we visiting? You would never guess; with Mme. de Genlis (born in 1746, governess of the children of the Duke d’Orleans in 1782). We’re with her grandson.
M. de Lawoestine, had told me enough to make me sound familiar to her. We arrive, the doors open for us; Anatole knows people, and we are all introduced without obstacle into a small Carmelite cell; this is what we call the place where we find Madame de Genlis.
A great Christ statue and a prie-dieu were the only adornments of her bedroom; I even believe that there must have been a hair shirt in there.
At first, the terror of Madame de Genlis is at its height; but soon she recognized that she was not dealing with the usual masquerade goers.
I quickly gain her confidence by the compliments that the mask allows me to offer her, without embarrassment or obligation.
She loosens up and receives us with all of her native spirit and grace. I enter into coquetry with her, and I offer her a ring which I beg her to keep in memory of me.
She asks us to unmask ourselves; I resist a long time, but finally she recognized her grandson, and I find it amusing to surprise her with my companions, remarkable for their beauty, that I brought with me; she doesn't know who they are.
Never was someone more astonished when I started to take off the mask of Mme. Emstatt and then Madame de Genlis saw a cheerful face, lively, fresh like a rose, with charming eyes.
She immediately thinks that she cannot see anything more graceful, and quickly I hasten to remove the mask of Mme. Desbassins, who was one of the most charming young people of Paris: her beautiful blond hair, her eyes blue, her little thin nose gave her the appearance of a pretty Englishwoman.
Madame de Genlis exclaims that she believes in marvels at the sight of such delightful faces. I elicit her surprise and I enjoy all her louder and louder exclamations when I take off Mlle. Gazzani's mask. Hers is a type of Italian beauty; her large black eyes are of velvet; her nose, her mouth, her forehead, her image is that of a perfection of which only the paintings of Titian can -
To be continued.
Ceci est une série de Mlle. Cochelet, qui était le «lecteur» de la belle-fille de Napoléon, Hortense. D'après ce livre, il me semble que l'auteur a rempli les fonctions de ce que nous appellerions aujourd'hui un assistant personnel. Mlle. Cochelet et Hortense étaient allés à l’école ensemble à Saint Germain - celle de Madame Campan. Ces souvenirs ci-dessous proviennent de ses mémoires intitulées «Napoléon et la reine Hortense».
Quand nous nous sommes arrêtés pour la dernière fois, Hortense était en train de perdre sa santé conformément aux fonctions de son palais, comme l'exigeait Napoléon. L'année est 1813.
Louise Cochelet écrit.