“He was much grieved at the absence of the children, and immediately declared his intention of proceeding to the village where they had been placed, in order to embrace them before he set sail again, perhaps never to return. It was the depth of winter—the snow lay heavy on the ground—the roads were dangerous, but, ‘_corbleu! morbleu! ventrebleu!_’ what cared he for danger? and what danger should prevent him from visiting the _petits drôles_, and even from carrying the eldest off to serve with him on board the Saint Joseph, if he found him, as he doubted not he should, full of fire and courage, and willing to assist in rebuilding the fortunes of his family by serving on the seas? He arrived at the village near nightfall, and alone, for the roads were so bad that he had been obliged to take horse; and, but one having been found in a serviceable condition, his servant had been obliged to stay at the town some miles distant.

“The entrance of the brave bailli into that solitary village must have caused quite a sensation; and I have heard that the whole scene has remained graven on the powerful memory of the prince, as though it had occurred but yesterday. He will sometimes recount it to his intimates, and laugh at the singularity of the circumstances; but that laugh, believe me, must be one of bitterness and scorn. No wonder that this man should have felt such strange contempt for his fellow man—no wonder that he should at times have acted as though he fancied that he alone existed in the world.

Reminiscences of Prince Talleyrand, Volume I (of 2) — Part 78

“Well, just at a turn of the road which led down into the village, the bailli bethought himself that he knew not the way to the house of the Mère Rigaut, the nurse to whom he had been directed; and he checked his steed, to gaze around and see if any one was in view who could assist him. While he thus paused, there came hobbling up the hill a pale, delicate-looking boy, with long ringlets of very fair hair, hanging loose over his shoulders, and an indescribable look of gentility, which the bailli perceived at once—at least he always said so afterwards. He carried a bird-trap in his hand, for he was just going out to seek for larks among the snow. The bailli called to him to come on faster; but, alas! as he drew near, he perceived that he was very lame, and that he bore a little crutch, which, however, he did not always use, but sometimes walking several steps without its aid, would flourish it before him as if in defiance, until a roughness in the road, or a loose stone, compelled him to place it again beneath his arm.

Reminiscences of Prince Talleyrand, Volume I (of 2) — Part 78