The reminiscences and recollections of Captain Gronow, being anecdotes of the camp, court, clubs and society, 1810-1860 . and, if possible, persuade the Empress MarieLouise to return to Paris. After being honoured with a private interviewby the Emperor Napoleon, he started, and, on hisarrival at Vienna, saw TalleyTand and Metternich,but soon found that there was no hope of bringingmatters to a satisfactory solution. He afterwardsobtained access to the gardens of Schcenbrunn,where Marie Louise was then residing. She waspassionately fond of flowers, and Montrond. underhis assumed character, was
The reminiscences and recollections of Captain Gronow, being anecdotes of the camp, court, clubs and society, 1810-1860 . and, if possible, persuade the Empress MarieLouise to return to Paris. After being honoured with a private interviewby the Emperor Napoleon, he started, and, on hisarrival at Vienna, saw TalleyTand and Metternich,but soon found that there was no hope of bringingmatters to a satisfactory solution. He afterwardsobtained access to the gardens of Schcenbrunn,where Marie Louise was then residing. She waspassionately fond of flowers, and Montrond. underhis assumed character, was able to accost her duringher walks, and deliver the message with which hehad been charged. He soon found, as he told hisfriends on his return, that a woman so devoted totulips would not care much for her husbands that she was, in fact, completely estranged fromthe emperor. I knew Montrond well, but several years later;he had then no trace of having been the charmant(jargon tradition represents him. He was ratherabove the middle height, and what the Englishnovelists call embonpoint, and had the appearance. Cl o .x h (n oa ? c COUNT MONTKOND. 237 of a vieux bonhomme. He was perfectly bald, hadblue eyes, very small features, aud a florid com-plexion. There was a peculiar twinkle in his eye,which boded no good to the victim he had selectedfor his prey. His countenance, as beheld by a casual observer,bore the stamp of an almost Pickwickian bene-volence ; but, on a closer inspection, there lurkedbehind this mask of mild philanthropy the stingingwit of Voltaire, mingled with the biting sarcasm ofRogers or Sir Philip Francis. Montrond had noneof the lively gestures or grimaces with which mostforeigners adorn their conversation : his mannerwas singularly quiet. He was not a great talker,nor did he swagger, speak about himself, or laughat his own bon-mots. He was demure, sleek, sly,and dangerous. He would receive with a paternalair the silly quizzing of some feeble jester, bu
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