eing captain of the
Hundred-Swiss, a great part of this corps was there, and, as if to play
me a trick, all these Hundred-Swiss were six feet tall, sometimes more.
One would have said, seeing me by the side of them, the giants and the
dwarf of the fair. Every one gazed at the bride, who, although she was
only fifteen, was as tall as she was beautiful, and every one was
looking for the bridegroom, without suspecting that it was this child,
this schoolboy, who was to play the part."

Is it not amusing, this picture of a marriage under the old regime? The
little groom was so disturbed when he went to the chapel and during the
ceremony, that, though his memory was excellent, he never could recall
what passed at that time. "I only remember," he says, "the sound of the
drums that were beating during our passage, and cheered me a little; it
was the one moment of the day that was to my taste. How long that day
seemed! You may imagine it was not from the motives common in like
cases, but because I drew all glances upon me, and all vied in laughing
at and joking me, pointing their fingers at me."

The day ended with a grand repast that lasted two or three hours. A
crowd of strangers strolled around the table all the while. Although
the precaution had been taken to put an enormous cushion on the chair
of the husband, his chin hardly came above the table. Seated by the
side of his young wife, he did not dare look at her. For days
beforehand he had been wondering if he should always be afraid of her.

"After this solemn banquet," he adds, "came the soiree, which did not
seem any more amusing; after the soiree the return to my parents' home
was no more diverting; nevertheless, it was made in the company of my
dear spouse, who henceforth was to dwell at my father's house. They
bundled me into a wretched cabriolet with my preceptor, and sent me to
finish my education at Versailles, and to learn to ride at the
riding-school of the pages."

We must note that the marriage thus begun was afterwards a very happy
union, and that there was never a pair more virtuous and more attached
to each other than the Duke and Duchess of Doudeauville.

In 1789, the Duke was major of the Second Regiment of Chasseurs. He
emigrated, though the Emigration was not at all to his liking. "This
measure," he said, "appeared to me in every way unreasonable, and yet,
to my great chagrin, I was forced to submit to it. The person of the
King was menaced, right-t