[Illustration: THE COMTE A. DE LA CHAPELLE.
Collaborator and Friend of the Emperor Napoleon III.
_A private photograph, lent for this work by the Vicomte de La Chapelle._
the aid of a rope, and he showed his much-lacerated hands as evidence of the truth of his assertion. My father was once discussing with Napoleon III. the question of the Marshal’s generally assumed treachery, when the Emperor said: “Pas traître, pas traître; mais, mais!”--accompanying the two last words with a significant shake of the head and a very serious look.
My father often had confidential talks with the Emperor, sometimes for hours together, and at such times Napoleon would get the Count to relate his adventures and experiences in the various countries which he had visited. These little stories greatly interested and diverted the Emperor, and aroused his old enthusiasm.
Some time before the death of Napoleon III. determined efforts were made to bring about a restoration of the Empire, and my father and a few--very few--others were let into the secret.[143] I remember, as a small boy, my father concealing in the lining of the hat which he wore when travelling important documents entrusted to him by the Emperor for transmission abroad, especially to Paris. At the same time my father was “shadowed” everywhere by the detectives of the French Republic, and subjected to the greatest annoyance. The propaganda for the restoration of the Empire continued even after the Emperor’s death.
When, after his release from captivity at Wilhelmshöhe, the Emperor arrived in this country, in March, 1871, he was very short of money, and through my father’s untiring efforts large sums were raised for His Majesty and for the Restoration propaganda. I mention this because it was falsely reported that the Emperor had left France taking a great deal of money with him. As a matter of fact, when the Emperor reached Chislehurst his finances were at a very low ebb. In my father’s own words, “Il était très gêné” (he was very short of cash).
The Prince Imperial, as many are probably aware, was an excellent swordsman. He attended regularly at Bertrand’s fencing academy, in Warwick Street, Regent Street, where the courteous maître d’armes, a fencer of the old school, used to put the Prince through his lessons with much dignity and infinite ceremony. M. Bertrand passed away long since; but there may still be seen in the academy over which he so worthily presided a bust of the Prince, his foils, his épées de combat, and other of his weapons, which, on one occasion, the veteran professor, with pathetic solemnity, allowed me to handle when I was a favoured pupil many years ago.