“Paris, _vendémiaire_ An IX. “Madame: “I have received your letter. I will bring into this matter all the interest which the memory of a justly celebrated man merits, and that yourself inspires. “Bonaparte.” In one of the _mauvais vers_ (from a literary viewpoint) with which Beaumarchais in his old age commented upon the career of the great general, is one which, says Loménie, “honors his sensibility.” It was written in 1797, and runs thus: “Young Bonaparte, from victory to victory, Thou givest us peace, and our hearts are moved; But dost thou wish to conquer every form of glory? Then think of our prisoners of l’Olmutz.” The allusion in the verse was to Lafayette and his fellow-prisoners, who for five years had been detained, first in a prison in Prussia, and later in the Austrian fortress of Olmutz. In 1792, Lafayette had been declared a traitor by the National Assembly after the fateful tenth of August, and been forced to cross the frontier and give himself up to the Austrians, who were then fighting against France. He was held as a prisoner of State. His wife and family, having been unable to secure his release, were permitted to share his captivity with him. Napoleon, who never had entertained a very high opinion of the military capacity of Lafayette, nevertheless stipulated for his release and for that of his fellow-prisoners in the treaty of Campo Formio, which was signed during the year 1797. But to return to the private life of Beaumarchais. Gudin, after visiting his friend, had not consented to remain under his roof, feeling that now he would be a burden and so had returned to his country retreat to await events. It was there that he learned of the joy that was about to crown the old age of his friend. He wrote to Beaumarchais: “I remember the songs you made for Eugénie, when you cradled her on your knees, and it seems to me that I can hear you sing others for her child. Kiss her for me, my dear friend, compliment her for me, and all of you rejoice over your domestic happiness; it is the sweetest of all, the most real perhaps.” For Beaumarchais, this was indeed the crowning blessing of this life. On January 5th, 1798, Madame Delarue gave birth to a daughter, Palmyr, as they called her. This event caused her grandfather to give way to “transports of joy,” though at first his only thought was “for his beloved Eugénie.” With the reëstablishment of Beaumarchais’s fortune, Gudin, who had in the meantime settled his own affairs, returned to live with his friend. “I came again,” he says, “to my native city, delighted to see my friend, and to find his family augmented. We tasted the sweetness of friendship the most intimate. I saw him abandon himself in our conversations to the most vivid hope for the prosperity of the state and of our arms.