TEMPORAL AGENT by Michel Poulin - HTML preview

CHAPTER 7 – MONARCHY, REPUBLIC AND EMPIRE

 

11:08 (Paris Time)

Wednesday, February 23, 1848

Hôtel de Brinvilliers, 12 Charles-V Street

District of Le Marais, Paris

France

‘’MADAM! MADAM! THE NATIONAL GUARD HAS JOINED THE BARRICADES IN MONTMARTRE!’’

Jeanne, who was reading the morning newspaper, raised her nose as Leila Benchetrit, her assistant-cook, appeared in the doorway of her private office on the upper floor of her residence. Leila, who had gone to buy fresh bread, entered the office on a sign from Jeanne.

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‘’Where did you hear this, Leila?’’

‘’At the market, madam. Spirits are becoming hot in town and some are talking of going to the Prime Minister’s residence to demonstrate.’’ Jeanne/Nancy ‘B’, who already knew in detail what was to come, put down her newspaper and got up from her sofa, her expression somber.

‘’Tell the other employees that I want to see all of them in the ballroom: I will speak to them.’’

‘’Right away, madam.’’

As the Algerian woman walked away quickly, Jeanne pondered the present situation. France was about to live through a revolution which would not only mark the end of the reign of King Louis-Philippe The First and of his so-called ‘July Monarchy’, but would also inflame revolutionary passions across the whole of Europe in the weeks and months to come. While he had tried to reign with moderation, King Louis-Philippe was afflicted with a most unpopular prime minister, Guizot, who was totally opposed to any reform to the unjust current electoral system, on top of showing himself incapable of dealing with the grave economic crisis France was living through, with the poorer citizens suffering the most from the said crisis. The months to come were going to be politically and socially unstable and she was going to have to act cautiously in order not to put at risk her mission, which was to create and make prosper her future charity foundation, on which the welfare of so many people would eventually depend. To intervene herself politically in the various crisis to come, unless to bet on a winning horse, would only put her fortune and maybe even her own freedom at risk.

When she entered the huge, eleven by ten meter ballroom of the upper floor, she found assembled the six women and four men who made up her domestic staff. She first looked around at the anxious expressions of her employees, which she had personally selected with care for their honesty, intelligence and human decency.

‘’My friends, the next few days could become quite agitated and the streets of Paris will be dangerous, especially now that the army is occupying the streets and that the National Guard seems ready to face it in favor of those asking for reforms. I will thus ask you to stay inside the residence and not to go out until further notice, and this for your own safety. I am ready to offer safe lodging and food to your immediate families, for those of you who are married and have children. However, please hurry and come

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back before darkness if you want to go get your families. Act quickly but cautiously. Go!’’

Her employees dispersed at once, with the exception of Li Mai, her personal assistant, who stood there, unsure what to do. Jeanne walked to her and gave her a reassuring smile.

‘’Don’t worry, Mai: everything will be fine.’’

‘’But, what will we do if rioters, or even soldiers, come and attack the residence, Jeanne?’’

‘’We will not give them any pretexts to attack us, Mai.’’

‘’But you are a d’Orléans, Jeanne. Some may be hostile to you just because of your apparent family link with the King.’’

Jeanne nodded her head slowly at those words. Mai, on top of being a sensitive and likeable teenager, had also proved many times that she was an intelligent girl.

‘’I will deal with that whenever the problem will show up, Mai. In the meantime, let’s go prepare our spare rooms for the families of our people.’’

The four employees who were married and had children came back to her townhouse just before noon with their loved ones and a few suitcases as the popular agitation increased along the city’s streets. Jeanne received them with a warm smile, showing particular affection to the sixteen children, whose age varied from nine months to fourteen years.

‘’Come, my children! I have prepared a large common room for the boys and another one for the girls. Aisha, Nadine, you are the two oldest of the lot. You will thus sleep in the guest bedroom, which is empty at the moment.’’ The thirteen year-old Algerian and the fourteen year-old Haitian thanked her before being guided to their room by Mai, each carrying a bag containing a few spare clothes. Jeanne took care herself of installing the other children, as well as the four spouses of her employees. Once everyone had been accommodated, Jeanne locked herself up in her private office and, taking out a key she always wore on herself, opened a large, solid oak cabinet, revealing her personal arsenal. Taking out of the cabinet two Colt-Paterson Model 1839 caliber .52 revolving carbines, which had been modified by her to cure their design defects, and two Colt DRAGOON caliber .44 revolvers, plus gunpowder, bullets and loading accessories, she took fifteen minutes to carefully load the four weapons. Those would give her a total of 26 ready-to-fire shots, a nearly unthinkable amount of

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firepower for the time period, all with perfectly contemporary weapons. Then hiding in various places her loaded weapons, Jeanne next went to the dining room, where she ate lunch with her assembled employees and their families.

The afternoon and early evening were tense, with seditious shouts being heard at intervals from the street and with mixed groups of workers, students and small merchants starting to patrol the streets, armed with improvised weapons and a few rare firearms. Thankfully for Jeanne, nobody seemed to pay particular attention to her residence then. She probably owed that to the fact that she was well known in this district for her generosity and for her respect for the lower social classes, a respect that was most atypical of other French aristocrats. However, at around ten at night, a short but intense firefight could be heard from the direction of the district of Des Capucines. Less than half an hour later, rioters started running up and down the streets, shouting out indignant cries.

‘’THE SOLDIERS OF THE KING FIRED ON THE PEOPLE AND KILLED 52 MARTYRS! DOWN WITH GUIZOT!’’

Those outraged cries rekindled at once the revolutionary fervor, which had quieted down somewhat during the evening. Jeanne, imitated by the other adults in her residence, watched from the upper floor windows of her townhouse as a small crowd of rioters started building a barricade at the corner of their street, while the bells of churches rang all across Paris.

‘’My God! This is going to end in a bloodbath.’’ said Rosette Sans-Soucis, Jeanne’s Haitian maid. Jeanne gave her a sober look.

‘’I truly hope that it won’t happen, Rosette. While Prime Minister Guizot has no consideration for the lower classes, King Louis-Philippe is not the kind of man ready to stay in power through massacres.’’

Jeanne, who had discreetly sent robotic spy probes to various strategic points of Paris to film those historical events for the benefit of the Time Patrol, also filmed the scenes down her street with the help of a pair of micro-cameras hidden in her earrings. She was thus able to film the passage of a funeral procession which passed under her windows around one o’clock in the morning. A huge crowd carrying lit lanterns escorted a cart full of dead people covered with blood. From the clothes worn by the dead, who were mostly men, it was evident that the bodies were those of people of modest

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condition, something that made Pierre Brunelle, Jeanne’s gardener and handyman, grind his teeth.

‘’The bastards! To shoot at the people like this. I hope that this Guizot bastard will pay for that.’’

‘’I believe that his position of power will not survive long after this, Pierre. The King will have no choice now but to disassociate himself from him. Let’s go to bed: tomorrow may be a long day.’’

The day of February 24 in fact proved to be full of news that brought joy to Jeanne’s employees and to the insurgents of Paris. With his palace besieged by a huge crowd of rioters, and not wanting to be responsible for another massacre, King Louis-Philippe officially fired his hated prime minister and abdicated before fleeing his palace under a disguise, on his way to exile in England. The King’s daughter, the Duchess of Orléans, whom he had named as regent for the benefit of his nine year-old grandson, then went to the Palais-Bourbon, the seat of the National Assembly, to proclaim her regency and thus save the monarchy. However, the republican representatives were not ready to play her game and colluded with the rioters to let the crowd invade the Palais-Bourbon. It was not supper time yet when the news of the proclamation of a provisional republican government circulated around Paris.

Jeanne greeted that news with an obvious satisfaction that surprised her employees. As she was opening a bottle of Champagne to celebrate the republican victory with them and their families, the young Michel d’Angelo, her stable boy, hesitantly asked her what all the others were secretly wondering about.

‘’You are really happy to see the monarchy fall, madam? But you are a d’Orléans.’’

Jeanne answered him with a big smile as she made the bottle cork pop out.

‘’I was born a Brissac, not a d’Orléans, Michel. Furthermore, I believe in democratic values. The people IS France, whatever the aristocrats and big bourgeois may think. Come on, let’s drink together for the people and for France!’’

‘’FOR THE PEOPLE AND FRANCE!’’ Shouted in unison the men and women while raising their glasses of Champagne.

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The weeks to follow were turbulent ones, as much in the rest of Europe as in France. Popular insurrections and riots shook in succession Vienna, Venice, Berlin, Milan, Munich and Prague, while the provisional French government publicly proclaimed the abolition of the death penalty and of slavery, the creation of national workshops in order to combat the widespread unemployment and the adoption of universal male suffrage. Jeanne didn’t waste her time during those weeks. Operating anonymously through a Paris stockbroker and using the troubled political situation across France and Europe, she speculated actively on the stock markets while using her historical knowledge from the future, buying stocks from companies which were going through temporary lows and were being dumped by panicked owners. On top of the Paris stock market, she also speculated on the London stock market, not wanting to put all of her precious eggs in the same basket. By May 4, the day of the official proclamation of the Second Republic in France, created after the national elections held on April 23, her

initial fortune had ballooned to nearly thirty million francs5, split nearly evenly between her accounts at the Bank of France and at the Midlands Bank of London. The proclamation of the Second Republic did not stop her financial speculations, but Jeanne did slow down her stock market activities in prediction of other important events due in June. Those events were preceded on May 15 by a big popular demonstration meant to support the Polish insurgents fighting to throw off the hold of Imperial Russia’s on their country. The French National Assembly, composed in majority of right-wing

conservatives and hidden monarchists, then imposed its views on the more socialist Executive Committee, which supposedly governed France but was in reality too weak to oppose the National Assembly. Many moderate republican officials were then replaced or even accused and imprisoned following the failed demonstration of May 15. The repercussions of this turn to the right by the government did not take long to make themselves felt around Jeanne.

10:18 (Paris Time)

Thursday, June 22, 1848

Hôtel de Brinvilliers

12 Charles-V Street, district of Le Marais

5 In 1848, thirty million French francs was worth roughly 1.2 million British sterling pounds of the time, or six million American dollars of 1848.

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Paris

Jeanne, who was starting to be worried about Mai and her two missing maids, was partly relieved on seeing through the window of her private study her young Chinese personal assistant come back at a quick pace and enter through the carriage gate. Leila Benchetrit and Rosette Sans-Soucis were however still missing. Going quickly down the grand staircase of her residence, Jeanne met Mai as she was about to go up the stairs.

‘’Do you have news about Leila and Rosette, Mai?’’

‘’Yes, Jeanne! Unfortunately, they are not good. Their husbands, who were officially working at the national workshops closed yesterday by the government, will now have to leave for the provinces, like all the other unemployed men over the age of 25. Leila and Rosette are desperate and don’t know what to do anymore. They are asking for your help concerning their husbands.’’

‘’And they will have it!’’ replied firmly Jeanne. ‘’Let’s take my personal cart to go see them.’’

Going out in the inner courtyard of the townhouse and walking to the stables, Jeanne gave an urgent order to Michel d’Angelo, who was cleaning the stalls of Jeanne’s three horses.

‘’MICHEL, HOOK QUICKLY PEGASUS TO MY PERSONAL CART: I HAVE TO GO OUT AT ONCE.’’

‘’RIGHT AWAY, MADAM!’’

Not staying inactive herself, Jeanne helped Michel by pushing out of its garage the small four-wheeled cart that she used for her informal trips in and around Paris. Six minutes later she was rolling out with Mai, turning on Saint-Paul Street and driving towards Saint-Antoine Street as fast as she could without risking to hit the numerous pedestrians following the narrow streets. Jeanne soon arrived at an old and decrepit apartment building where Rosette Sans-Soucis and her family were living. Telling Mai to stay in the cart, Jeanne ran up the narrow, dirty stairs of the building, finally knocking on a door of the second floor.

‘’ROSETTE, IT’S ME, JEANNE. OPEN UP!’’

The worried face of her Haitian maid appeared a few seconds later as she opened her door.

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‘’Thank you from the bottom of my heart for coming, madam. To be frank, I don’t know what to do right now.’’

Jeanne gave a quick look at Thomas, Rosette’s husband, who was sitting in a corner on a rickety chair and who was holding his head in despair.

‘’What is happening exactly, Rosette?’’

‘’It’s that damn governmental decree, madam.’’ exclaimed Rosette on an indignant tone. ‘’Not content with closing the national workshops and thus throwing my husband and tens of thousands of other workers back into unemployment, the government has ordered that all the unemployed men over the age of 25 are to move to worksites in various provinces. If my husband Thomas obey that edict, I will be separated from him, maybe for good.’’

‘’Has he received an official notice about that?’’

‘’Not directly, madam, but the decree published in the newspapers orders the unemployed to show up tomorrow morning at their old workshops, from which chariots will carry them to provincial worksites. The youngest ones will be brought to army barracks to be enrolled there. Can you help us, madam?’’ Rosette’s pleading tone moved Jeanne, who already knew how much misery and even blood that closure of the national workshops would bring. She however had an idea in mind that could save Thomas. She thus looked at the dejected black man and spoke gently to him.

‘’Thomas, when did you show up for the last time at your workshop?’’

‘’The day before yesterday, madam.’’ answered Thomas in his Creole-accented French.

‘’Thus on the twentieth, one day before the publication of the decree announcing the closure of the national workshops. Excellent! Thomas, you will say to anyone asking you that you were hired by me on a permanent basis on the evening of the twentieth, and that you are thus not touched by the decree. As a precaution, I will ask you to come lodge with your whole family in my residence, until I can make all this official. By the way, you will really work for me, at my standard daily salary of three francs per day.’’

‘’You…you would do this for me, madam?’’ asked Thomas, not believing his luck.

‘’I would do it for any decent person in need, Thomas. Rosette, pack quickly a suitcase for your husband: he will leave with me. Then, start packing more bags for the

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rest of your family, so that I can pick you up in a couple of hours and bring you to my residence for a few days: I anticipate that some difficult days are coming.’’

‘’Thank you, Jeanne! Thank you for everything! You are too good.’’ said Rosette, tears in her eyes, prompting Jeanne in going to her to hug her.

‘’Nobody can be too good, Rosette: you can only be too mean.’’

Ten minutes later, and with Thomas in the back of her cart with an old suitcase, Jeanne took the reins and drove off, this time in the direction of the home of the Benchetrit. There, she found the same situation as that with the Sans-Soucis and applied the same solution, retroactively hiring permanently Omar Benchetrit and telling Leila to start packing her family things. With both Thomas and Omar in the back of her cart, Jeanne then went to see a notary whom she knew well and who had socialist views, asking him to produce hiring contracts with retroactive dates for Omar and Thomas. A discreet bonus of 500 francs helped erase the few professional scruples of the notary, who signed the contracts as a witness. On her return trip, Jeanne briefly stopped at the homes of the two men, to start hauling their families’ bags to her residence. Two more return trips were needed to pick up their wives and children and the rest of their limited belongings, with Luc Rémillard accompanying Jeanne’s cart in her heavy haul chariot. By the time that the families of all her employees were safely installed in her residence, the popular agitation had grown to alarming levels.

Supper that night was a somber affair, with all realizing how difficult the next few days could become. Jeanne did her best to calm the nerves of her employees and of their families by singing and playing the piano and the guitar for them. She hid her own anxiety, knowing thanks to historical hindsight how bloody the next few days were going to be in Paris. Helping in late evening the mothers to put their children to bed for the night, Jeanne thought on looking at the sixteen boys and girls that simply doing this made all her efforts expended in this mission worthy. The smiles of gratitude from her employees, which had nothing to do with simple servility, also warmed her heart. Satisfied with herself, Jeanne/Nancy went to take a good hot bath and then slipped in her bed, falling asleep quickly.

The first shots, coming from the poor districts on the Left Shore, echoed around ten o’clock the next morning. Those isolated shots quickly became heavy exchanges of

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gunfire as the workers of Paris built barricades all across the city and as the army went on to brutally dismantle them and disperse the rioters. Contrary to the February Revolution, the government did not bow to the rioters and the National Guard stayed on the government’s side. By the evening of June 23, Paris had turned into a battlefield. The next day, June 24, proved even worst, prompting Jeanne in keeping her guests far from the façade’s windows during the day, fearing lost bullets. On the morning of June 25, the fighting closed in on her district. Jeanne was able to film in that afternoon the brief firefight that opposed a full company of infantry to a group of rioters holding a barricade erected at the corner of Charles-V and Saint-Paul Streets. The rioters, poorly armed, still caused a few casualties to the soldiers before dispersing in disorder. Jeanne ground her teeth together but kept filming discreetly as soldiers rounded up with much use of rifle butt strokes a dozen disarmed rioters and made them stand against a wall before summarily executing them. She suddenly became alarmed when about fifty soldiers started coming slowly down her street, bayonets fixed, while knocking on doors and then entering houses to search them. A poor man who made the mistake of protesting too vigorously the searching of his house was simply shot on his doorstep.

Taking a quick decision, Jeanne left the window and walked out of her private study to make a quick tour of her residence, ordering her staff and their families to assemble in the ballroom and to stay there. She then took with her Luc Rémillard and, after making sure he had no weapons on him, went down with him in the tunnel formed by the carriage gate of her residence. Once in front of the solidly locked double doors of the gate, she looked gravely at the ex-legionnaire, a tough, solid man of 32 who had left the Foreign Legion because of a wound to his left arm.

‘’Listen to me carefully, Luc, and don’t protest. At my signal, you will unlock the pedestrian door and will let me go out, then will immediately close and lock back the door. You will open it again when I will give three widely spaced knocks. If soldiers then follow me inside, do not oppose any resistance and do not object to their presence. The lives of all of our people here are at risk.’’

Rémillard in turn looked at her with worry. Jeanne was presently wearing a splendid aristocrat’s dress, plus a set of jewels that was worth a fortune.

‘’But you risk being killed by going out like this, madam.’’

‘’I am the least at risk here, Luc. Trust me: I know what I am doing.’’

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Then getting close to the pedestrian door embedded into the left carriage door of the gate, she listened for a moment before signaling Rémillard.

‘’Now, Luc!’’

While mortally worried for her, the man obeyed her and quickly pulled the three heavy bolts locking the thick wooden pedestrian door, then pulled the door opened to let Jeanne pass. She quickly stepped outside in the street, letting her coach driver and security guard close and lock the door behind her. A group of soldiers walking down the street towards her residence and being less than fifteen paces from Jeanne raised their muskets at once on seeing her.

‘’DON’T MOVE! HANDS IN THE AIR!’’

Her heart beating furiously and hoping to hell that the soldiers would not simply shoot her without questions, Jeanne slowly raised her hands up in the air while speaking in a firm voice.

‘’I am Lady Jeanne d’Orléans. I want to speak with your commanding officer.’’ The soldiers looked at each other in indecision, with one of them finally talking to his NCO.

‘’Shit, she’s an aristocrat! What do we do, Sergeant?’’

‘’Uh, I think that we better let the lieutenant decide. LIEUTENANT!’’ A young officer whose saber was stained with blood approached at a quick step on hearing the call.

‘’What is it, Sergeant? Who is this woman?’’

‘’She says that she is an aristocrat, Lieutenant. She came out of that carriage door.’’

‘’This is my residence, Lieutenant.’’ offered Jeanne, then taking a chance. ‘’I am Lady Jeanne d’Orléans and I came out to ask your soldiers to show restraint if they have to search my residence. I can assure you that I am alone with my servants and their families and that you will find no rioters inside.’’

The lieutenant approached Jeanne and examined her visually from head to toe, noting her rich dress and jewels. Impressed by her appearance and beauty, he finally bowed politely to her.

‘’Searching your residence will not be necessary, Lady Jeanne. You may now return inside. Have a good evening, madam.’’

‘’Thank you and good evening to you too, Lieutenant.’’

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Going back to the carriage gate, Jeanne knocked three times on the pedestrian door, slipping inside as soon as Rémillard opened it. She sighed with relief as the man pushed back in place the heavy bolts of the door.

‘’Ooof! That was tense! Thankfully, that young lieutenant proved to be polite…and reasonable.’’

Rémillard looked at her with something approaching adoration.

‘’Madam, your bravery would be worthy of a legionnaire.’’

‘’Bof! Some would call this simply a typical display of aristocratic arrogance.’’ said Jeanne in jest while smiling.

The end of the insurrection that would be known in the future as ‘The days of June’ was marked the next day, June 26, by the fall of the last barricades in the suburbs of Saint-Antoine, which bordered the district of Le Marais, where Jeanne lived. Despite the end of the fighting, Jeanne insisted that her employees and their families stay inside her residence for another few days, alluding to the forcible searches and police sweeps which would probably follow. The next days proved her right and brought many bitter news to the poorer people of Paris. A number of newspapers considered to be left-leaning were closed by the government and the rights of assembly were severely curtailed. To the 4,000 civilians killed during the insurrection had to be added 1,500 other persons summarily shot without trial, while 25,000 more people were arrested in the days and weeks to follow. Of those 25,000 persons arrested, 11,000 were eventually condemned to long prison terms or were deported to Algeria. On the side of the government forces, the losses amounted to 1,600 killed. All this brought a harsh turn to the right by the government, which was already too right-leaning to the taste of the Parisian workers. Feeling like a vulture for profiting financially from such a tragedy, Jeanne kept to her mission profile and bought at bargain prices millions of francs worth of shares at the Paris stock market, knowing that the societies whose shares she was buying and that had brutally dropped in value due to the insurrection would eventually regain their true value. As a consequence, her personal fortune ballooned again, to reach a total of over 49 million francs by August of 1848. That in turn provided her with a steady annual revenue from interests and dividends of over two million francs. Jeanne was now in a good financial position to create her charitable foundation.

16:55 (Paris Time)

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Wednesday, September 20, 1848

Charles-V Street, district of Le Marais

Paris

As their carriage turned onto Charles-V Street, Alexandre Dumas The Younger looked quickly outside through the window of his door to examine the façades along the short, narrow street. He then looked at his father, sitting to his right, asking him a question with a slight smile on his lips.

‘’Do you know well that Lady Jeanne d’Orléans, Father?’’ Alexandre Dumas The Elder, successful writer, author of such famous novels as ‘THE THREE MUSKETEERS’ and ‘THE COUNT OF MONTE CRISTO’ and an incorrigible skirt chaser, smiled at the insinuation in the question from his son.

‘’Not as well as I would like, which is unfortunate for

me: she is a decidedly appetizing young woman. She invited me once already in the last months, in the company of other writers and artists. While very young, she is remarkably well educated and possess a sharp intelligence. She is rich, but lives rather modestly for her means and supports a number of charitable works.’’

‘’She is thus a person I should like.’’ said the third passenger of the carriage, a frail but pretty woman in her forties. Alexandre Dumas The Elder nodded his head and smiled to his ex-mistress, with which he was still in very good terms and which he was escorting to this evening reception.

‘’I believe so, my sweet Mélanie, even though Jeanne d’Orléans definitely has an adventurous side to her.’’

‘’Oh? What do you mean, Father?’’ asked his son, attracting a malicious smile on the face of the writer.

‘’You will soon see, Son.’’

The carriage then slowed down, to stop in front of Number 12, Charles-V Street. Alexandre Dumas The Elder stepped out first and helped Mélanie Waldor come out before going to pay the driver of the rented carriage. As his son was also coming down, another carriage turned into the street and stopped behind their own carriage. Intrigued, Alexandre The Elder watched as a tall, well dressed young man came out of the newly arrived carriage, followed by a young woman wearing an elegant evening dress. As the

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two carriages were rolling away, the two groups found themselves together in front of the carriage gate of Number 12. Alexandre The Elder saluted the young couple with his top hat.

‘’Let me present myself: Alexandre Dumas The Elder. This is my son, Alexandre The Younger, and this is Miss Mélanie Waldor, a good friend of mine. I presume that you were also invited to this reception given by Lady Jeanne d’Orléans?’’

‘’Effectively, Monsieur Dumas.’’ replied the young man in a French with a strong American accent. ‘’I am Doctor Thomas Evans, dentist, and this is my wife, Agnes. Uh, you wouldn’t happen by chance to be the famous writer Alexandre Dumas, author of ‘THE THREE MUSKETEERS’?’’

‘’In person!’’ replied proudly the writer. A pedestrian door then opened in one of the carriage doors, pulled from the inside by a man dressed in a valet uniform.

‘’If you may come in, ladies and gentlemen. Lady Jeanne is expecting you.’’ The five guests entered at once by the pedestrian door, then were guided to an entrance door on the left side of the tunnel leading to the inner courtyard. To the surprise of the guests, a young and beautiful oriental teenager wearing a magnificent Chinese embroidered silk dress greeted them with a deep bow inside a wide vestibule.

‘’If you may follow me to the lounge, Lady Jeanne is waiting for you there with the guests who have already arrived.’’

As Alexandre The Younger climbed the stairs of the grand staircase behind the Chinese girl, he bent sideways to whisper to his father.

‘’She is really cute, that young Chinese.’’

‘’She certainly can make a man get an appetite, Son. She is the personal servant of Lady Jeanne, who can speak Chinese, by the way.’’ Alexandre The Younger opened his eyes wide, not a little impressed.

‘’Really? The people who can do so in Paris are rare indeed.’’

‘’And it’s not her sole talent, I assure you.’’

Having climbed to the upper level, the group passed a double door and entered a very comfortably furnished lounge which featured a large fireplace and two tall windows giving a view of the inner courtyard of the townhouse. The lounge was furnished in First Empire style and measured about seven meters by five meters. Thomas and Agnes Evans fixed at once with curiosity the tall young woman, nearly a teenager, who then got up from one of the sofas. She was as tall as Thomas and looked very athletic, with

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tanned skin and long silky black hair framing a pretty face with gleaming green eyes. Her floating, 1810 style dress, let her muscular shoulders uncovered and, while out of fashion, appeared very comfortable, contrary to the dress with crinoline cage that the American woman was wearing and which was both heavy and cumbersome. Agnes Evans opened wide her eyes on seeing the fabulous set of jewels worn by the young woman, whispering to her husband in English.

‘’She is rich, no doubt about that.’’

Jeanne went to them, while a man and a woman in their forties got up from their sofa.

‘’Welcome to my house, my friends. For those who

don’t know me yet, I am Lady Jeanne d’Orléans. However, call me simply Jeanne. Already present are Monsieur Victor Hugo and the Baroness of Dudevant, better known under her pen name of George Sand.’’

The newcomers presented themselves in turn, then sat in the sofas forming a rectangle in a corner of the lounge. A butler then showed up with a tray supporting cups of Champagne, while a black servant went around with a plate of appetizers. With all her guests now served, Jeanne smiled to Thomas and Agnes Evans, speaking in perfect English to them.

‘’Do you feel comfortable enough to converse in French, Mister and Misses Evans?’’

‘’Be reassured, Lady Jeanne.’’ replied in good French Thomas. ‘’Learning French as a second language is common in the good society of Philadelphia. We will manage.’’

‘’Excellent! However, do not hesitate to ask if you need something translated in English. With all the cultural luminaries present here tonight, the conversation will be flying quite high, especially with a member of the French Academy present among us.’’ Victor Hugo smiled at that barb thrown at him.

‘’Do not worry, my dear Jeanne: I will not act like a literary critique tonight.’’

‘’No?’’ replied with a malicious smile Alexandre Dumas The Elder. ‘’Your

Esmeralda6 would have loved to meet my dashing d’Artagnan.’’

‘’As far as my Esmeralda is concerned, I believe that our hostess would have been perfect to play her role, Monsieur Dumas.’’

6 Esmeralda : Name of the main character in the famous novel ‘THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE-DAME’, written by Victor Hugo.

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Alexandre The Younger, who had been discreetly admiring a large painting hanging from a wall facing him, pointed the artwork with one index.

‘’Talking of our hostess, is this you in this nude portrait, Lady Jeanne?’’

‘’It is me indeed.’’ recognized Jeanne, smiling, making Thomas Evans and Alexandre The Younger pay a detailed attention to the painting. ‘’I asked the painter who did it, a disciple of the method of the famous master Mathieu Le Nain, to show me as I am in real life, and not according to the old beauty canons of the Renaissance masters. I never understood why men of earlier centuries preferred overweight women who were as white as cadavers.’’

‘’Because they were the signs that marked you as a rich aristocrat, Jeanne.’’ replied Victor Hugo, attracting an unconvinced expression on the face of his hostess.

‘’Hum. Nobility and beauty, be they corporal or moral, are not the same in my mind. I always loved to live in the wide open spaces and to exercise physically. I don’t think that I have anything to envy in all those livid fat women we see in museum portraits.’’

Agnes Evans had to give a discreet elbow in the ribs to her husband, who was admiring a bit too much to her taste the nude portrait of Jeanne d’Orléans. She then spoke to their hostess.

‘’Lady Jeanne, from the decoration of your residence, you seem to like old things...’’

‘’Except in love.’’ interrupted Jeanne with a smile, making her guests burst out in laughter. ‘’I am sorry to have interrupted you like this, Agnes, but I couldn’t resist. Yes, I do have a taste for history, which I study diligently. Take this residence, for example. I was lucky enough to be able to buy it a year ago. It was built in the early 17th Century and was the residence of the Marquess of Brinvilliers, who was executed in 1676 for poisoning a number of people. Unfortunately, her residence was then neglected along the years and I found it in a rather pitiful state, even though its structure was perfectly sound. Instead of having it renovated on the lines of a single style, I decided to furnish each main room to a different style and period. I also possess a varied historical wardrobe, as you can see tonight. I frankly find today’s female fashion both horrible and uncomfortable, especially these crinoline cages and corsets. You should try once an antique Greek dress: it is very comfortable and also quite elegant. But enough about history: let’s talk a bit about the present. Mister Evans, how is your dental practice doing in Paris?’’

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‘’Fairly well I must say, Jeanne.’’ replied Thomas. ‘’We arrived in Paris last November and, while my appointments agenda is still not full, I have enough customers already to be able to live comfortably.’’

‘’So, you would still have some place left in your agenda for new customers?’’

‘’Are you in need of dental care, Jeanne?’’

Jeanne smiled widely, showing perfect teeth.

‘’Me, no! I was looking for a dentist using the latest techniques and who would be ready to examine and treat the young occupants of a Paris orphanage which I am helping financially. Doctor Brewster, whom I contacted at first, was already too busy but he gave me your name and address. I am of course ready to pay for your services in full if you accept to care for these orphans.’’

Thomas nodded his head at that: he now understood why he had received an invitation from a perfect stranger.

‘’To help your orphans this way would please me most, Jeanne. You can count on my services.’’

‘’Thank you very much, Thomas. We could further discuss this in detail later tonight, if you wish so.’’

Jeanne then looked at Alexandre Dumas The Elder.

‘’My dear Alexandre, when could we hope to see the last parts of your last novel, ‘THE VISCOUNT OF BRAGELONNE’?’’

The writer smiled with pride as the other guests listened on intently, apparently all interested by his answer.

‘’Well, the second part, titled ‘LOUISE DE LA VALLIÈRE’, should be published next month. As for the third part, ‘THE MAN WITH THE IRON MASK’, I should be able to finish it in about a year.’’

‘’Decidedly, you make us endure a cruel wait, my friend.’’ Agnes Evans then had a question for the writer.

‘’Monsieur Dumas, I loved your novel ‘THE THREE MUSKETEERS’, but I have a question about one of the characters in your novel, Milady de Winter. Is her character based on a person who really existed in the 17th Century?’’

‘’Aaah, the beautiful and sinister Milady de Winter.’’ said Dumas in a thoughtful tone. ‘’In truth, I sketched that character along fictitious lines when I wrote my novel. However, one of my historical research assistants has since found a few obscure references in the archives on King Louis XIV concerning a mysterious Marquise de

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Saint-Laurent, who seemed to have been some sort of secret agent for Cardinal Mazarin. According to some, the Cardinal called her ‘Milady’ and there are also allusions that she had been marked with a red hot iron, like my Milady. Curiously, other vague notations pretended that this Marquise de Saint-Laurent was a lover of d’Artagnan and even of King Louis XIV. The historical information on that woman is very limited and

fragmentary, but I now think that the character of ‘Milady’ in my novel had after all some historical roots. That Marquise de Saint-Laurent must have been a fascinating woman.’’ Jeanne, who had tensed up on hearing the name ‘Marquise de Saint-Laurent’, forced herself to keep a neutral expression.

‘’Your assistant didn’t find more information about that mysterious marquise, Alexandre?’’

‘’Unfortunately no, my dear. This Milady seemed to have purposely stayed as discreet as possible during her stay in the court of King Louis XIV, something that would be normal for a spy employed by Cardinal Mazarin. Actually, I would picture her like you, Jeanne: you are a young woman out of the ordinary, if I could go with the little you told me of your life.’’

‘’Oh, I would love to hear your story, Jeanne!’’ said at once Agnes with enthusiasm, bringing a forced smile to Jeanne’s lips.

‘’Oh, I am not so extraordinary, really, except for my athletic physique. I was born a Brissac and am the nineteen year-old daughter of a couple of ruined aristocrats who took a ship to the Guadeloupe over two years ago with the hope of rebuilding their fortune there. Unfortunately, pirates intercepted and took our ship in the Caribbean Sea, killing my parents and taking me prisoner. The pirate ship then sank in a storm off the Guadeloupe but I was able to swim to the coast. That is when I met my late husband, Sire Pierre d’Orléans, who possessed a large sugar cane plantation.’’ While speaking, Jeanne showed a small portrait hooked to a wall of the lounge. It showed a solidly-built, handsome man in his early thirties.

‘’Pierre d’Orléans was a man the kind of which we unfortunately see too rarely: generous, intelligent, strong but also kind and gentle. We quickly fell mutually in love and I married him in 1846. Unfortunately, he died a few months later of a tropical fever, leaving me his plantation and fortune. I then decided to return to France and sold the plantation. Since then, I have been using my newfound fortune to help others by supporting charity works. Well, that’s me in a few words.’’

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‘’Words that are too brief to properly tell a story as fascinating as yours, Jeanne.’’ replied Alexandre Dumas The Younger. ‘’How long were you prisoner of those pirates?’’

‘’Three long weeks. To be frank, I would rather not talk about that episode of my life.’’

Alexandre The Elder gave a warning look to his son, who then held his next question. The other guests easily guessed what kind of treatment Jeanne, a beautiful teenager, could have endured from these pirates and they had the good taste not to ask about that subject. The Baroness of Dudevant was the one to ask the next question after taking a sip of her Champagne.

‘’And how do you use your time, apart from supporting charity works, Jeanne?’’

‘’I manage my fortune, mostly. I keep a close eye on the economic and political situation, in order to better invest my money and to make it fructify. I also train physically every day, in order to stay in top shape. I must say that I am a born athlete.’’

‘’You certainly seem to be in perfect health, Jeanne.’’ Said Thomas Evans, making her nod her head.

‘’I am! Unfortunately, today’s women’s fashion is very restrictive for any woman trying to practice sports in public. I thus transformed a room on the ground floor into a small private gymnasium, so that I could exercise in private.’’

‘’You said that you follow closely the political situation, Jeanne.’’ said Victor Hugo, who was a member of the National Assembly. ‘’What do you think of the events of this year?’’

‘’That way too much blood has been spilled to date, Victor. The small people, who live in scandalous poverty and work for a pittance, have legitimate demands, demands that too many rich or well-off people dismiss while getting fat on their backs. Do not however think that I am engaged in politics: I simply am a humanist who detests seeing people being exploited and treated unjustly.’’

‘’Louis-Napoléon Bonaparte, who has political opinions quite similar to you on that subject, was elected to the National Assembly a few days ago. I wonder if, this time, he will leave his refuge in England and return to take his seat.’’

‘’I think so, Victor. He is said to be very popular with the majority of the people and he has the support of the Republicans. Especially, he is not threatened anymore with arrest if he returns to France.’’

‘’His return will certainly please the countless mistresses and lovers he left behind in France.’’ said Mélanie Waldor, a slight smile on her face. ‘’It is said that he

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even made two kids with the daughter of the commander of the Fort of Ham, where he was jailed until his escape in 1846.’’

Many guests laughed with Jeanne at Mélanie’s remark, while Thomas Evans shook his head with incredulity.

‘’I must say that the way Frenchmen collect mistresses, even when they are married, is making many talk in the United States. Do the French women really accept so easily such rivals around their husbands?’’

‘’Aaah, but where would be poetry and theatre plays without all these spicy stories, Doctor Evans?’’ replied humorously Alexandre Dumas The Younger. ‘’France has a long and proud tradition of making its people cuckold.’’ The whole group then burst into loud laughter at this declaration. Alexandre The Younger eyed Jeanne, young and desirable in her dress with large cleavage.

‘’And you, my beautiful Jeanne? You are young, rich and beautiful. You are thus a prime candidate to become the mistress of many men of substance in Paris. Are you planning to remarry soon?’’

‘’To get married, no! To continue dating men, most probably!’’ declared Jeanne while grinning, attracting more laughs. She however became serious before continuing.

‘’Please understand something, Alexandre: I came back to France so that I could use my fortune to help the people in need. To marry would legally give control of my fortune to a husband who would then be free to spend it according to his own whims, which would probably not be the same as mine. Remember that in France, as well as in England, a married woman belongs to her husband and that she has no legal rights to possess her own things without the permission of her husband. On the other hand, an adventure or two with dashing young men won’t hurt my fortune.’’ More laughs came out when Agnes Evans, red with embarrassment, fanned herself with one hand on hearing Jeanne.

‘’Dear God! Should I keep my husband under key during our stay in France?’’ Jeanne made a face while making a show of eying Thomas Evans from head to toe.

‘’Hum, that may be a good idea, my dear Agnes.’’

The stunned expression of the American dentist, along with the scandalized look of his wife, made the French present burst out in laughter again. Jeanne then used the fact that the atmosphere was now fully relaxed to invite her guests to proceed to the dining room.

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After a meal featuring exotic Chinese, Algerian and Creole dishes, Jeanne led her guests on a guided tour of her residence, tour which finally ended in the huge ballroom, where a piano sat near a display case containing an assortment of musical instruments. Sitting at the piano, Jeanne then played a couple of melodies while singing along, impressing and pleasing her guests with her musical talents. The quality of her piano playing particularly surprised the Baroness of Dudevant, who had been until recently the mistress of Frederic Chopin.

‘’My god, Jeanne, have you taken piano lessons from Monsieur Chopin?’’ Jeanne shook her head as she got up from the piano stool to go grab a guitar.

‘’Not at all, my dear. I learned to play the piano at a young age, before going to the Guadeloupe. I also have a gift for guitar playing, an instrument that is said to be very popular in the United States.’’

She proved her gift with more singing while playing her guitar, dancing along with her tunes. Unknown to her guests, the repertoire she played included a number of musical pieces and songs from future times, but adapted to earlier centuries. The guests, who had already been surprised by the extent of Jeanne’s technological knowledge, demonstrated when she had shown them her steam engine and the sanitary plumbing facilities installed in her residence, could only marvel at the range of her talents.

The reception came to an end at around ten o’clock at night, with Jeanne’s guests leaving by rental carriage or, in the case of the Baroness of Dudevant, who lived outside of Paris, aboard Jeanne’s saloon carriage, driven by the loyal Luc Rémillard. Victor Hugo, who was the last to leave, kissed Jeanne’s hand as he was about to step out.

‘’Thank you again for having invited me, Jeanne. The evening was most pleasant. I would love to be able to return the favor in the coming days.’’

‘’Thank you for the thought, my dear Victor. I however have to leave for England tomorrow, to go take care of my investments there and also to inspect a few orphanages that I am planning to support. I will however advise you once back in Paris.’’ The playwright gave her an admiring, fond look then.

‘’Jeanne, if all the rich people could be as generous and kind as you, the little people would be really happy. Good night my dear.’’

‘’And good night to you, Victor.’’

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Going out in the street with the playwright and author, Jeanne watched as Victor Hugo climbed into the carriage which had waited for him and waved her hand as it started rolling away. Going back inside, she thought about her trip to England tomorrow. On top of the goals she had described to Victor Hugo, she had something else to do, something that could assure her of some very high level support in the future for her charitable organization.

12:16 (London Time)

Saturday, September 23, 1848

Dining room of the Empire Hotel

Port of Dover, England

Louis-Napoléon Bonaparte, accompanied by his current mistress, Harriet Howard, and by their three young boys, was about to select a table in the dining room of their hotel when Harriet discreetly pulled his left arm sleeve to attract his attention.

‘’Louis, I already met before the young woman sitting alone at the table near the windows to our left. Let me just speak with her quickly.’’

Louis looked in the direction she indicated and raised an eyebrow in immediate interest at the beautiful young woman sitting at a corner table. From what he could see of her clothes, the girl seemed richly dressed and also wore expensive jewels.

‘’And who is she exactly, Harriet?’’ Lady Harriet Howard

‘’Her name is Jeanne d’Orléans. She is a rich philanthropist whom I met at the Bank of Midlands yesterday. We then had a cup of tea together and talked a bit.’’ Louis tensed up at the mention of the girl’s name: he owed his years of jail time and exile to the government of King Louis-Philippe, himself in exile in England since last February. He was thus understandably reticent when Harriet came back to him to say that the said Jeanne d’Orléans was inviting them to her table.

‘’Uh, she does not have family links to King Louis-Philippe, I hope?’’

‘’Not at all!’’ replied his English mistress, a young actress of great beauty who had inherited a fortune left to her by her previous lover and who was financially

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supporting Louis. ‘’She was born a Brissac and her late husband, whom she married in the Guadeloupe, never set foot in France. Come, Louis! You too, my little ones!’’ Taking by their hands the two youngest boys, Harriet led them to Jeanne’s table, followed by Louis and the third boy. Jeanne got up from her chair to greet them, revealing the fact that she wore a skirt that only went down to her calves, rather than down to the floor, as current fashion dictated. She however wore a pair of knee-length boots made of shiny black leather that completed her expensive but unorthodox outfit. Louis, a man of small stature standing a mere 166 centimeters, looked up with surprise at Jeanne’s 183 centimeters, with shoulders wider than his own shoulders. She had an eminently feminine body, if one overlooked her muscles and tanned skin. Louis however quickly regained his composure and saluted her with his top hat.

‘’Let me present myself, miss: Louis-Napoléon Bonaparte, at your service.’’

‘’And I am Jeanne d’Orléans. Pleased to meet you, Monsieur Bonaparte. And what are the names of those three cute boys, if I may ask?’’ While keeping to himself the fact that all three boys were illegitimate and that the oldest one was from Harriet’s previous lover, Louis proudly presented the children to Jeanne, who had bent over to smile to them.

‘’With pleasure, Lady Jeanne. The oldest, Martin, is six. You then have Alexandre Louis Eugène, five, and Louis Ernest Alexandre, who is three.’’

‘’Hello, little ones!’’ said Jeanne, attracting timid responses from the boys, with Martin’s one made in English. Straightening up, Jeanne pointed her table to Louis and Harriet.

‘’Please, have a seat! It would please me to be able to eat with you.’’

‘’You are too kind, Lady Jeanne.’’

‘’Please, simply call me Jeanne.’’

‘’In that case, just call me Louis.’’

‘’Deal!’’

Once they were all sitting, and with their orders taken by a waiter, Jeanne smiled to Louis.

‘’I suppose that you are taking the ferry for Calais that is departing this afternoon, Louis?’’

‘’Exact, Jeanne. Me and Harriet are moving to Paris, now that I have been elected to the National Assembly and that it is finally possible for me to take my seat.’’

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‘’And you have a residence waiting for you in Paris, I presume?’’

‘’Uh, not really. We were planning to take a suite at the Westminster Hotel until we could find an adequate house to buy.’’

Jeanne immediately shook her index at those words.

‘’Forget the hotel for you, my friends. I am offering the hospitality of my own residence on Charles-V Street, in Le Marais, and this for as long as it takes you to find a permanent place.’’

‘’That is most generous on your part, Jeanne, and I sincerely thank you for your offer, but do you have enough place for all of us without having to tighten up?’’

‘’I have ample room in the Hôtel de Brinvilliers, Louis.’’

‘’The Hôtel de Brinvilliers? Isn’t that the old residence of the infamous Marquise de Brinvilliers, the poisoner?’’

‘’Effectively!’’ replied Jeanne, smiling. ‘’But don’t worry: you will be able to eat in my home without choking, unless you try to swallow too big a piece.’’ Jeanne’s joke made Harriet giggle, while Louis fixed with hungry eyes Jeanne’s chest, which she had pushed up with her arms while speaking.

22:57 (Paris Time) / 21:57 (London Time)

Port of Calais, France

The group formed by Jeanne, Louis-Napoléon Bonaparte, Harriet Howard and the three boys walked down the walkway to the quay with sighs of relief at leaving the small steam ship which had brought them and twenty other passengers across the stormy waters of The Channel. Louis-Napoléon, who had suffered badly from

seasickness during the trip, nearly kissed the quay after stepping on it.

‘’Thank you, God! I am decidedly not destined to be a sailor.’’ He then looked around him to orient himself in the dark, the quay being poorly lit by a few rare oil lamps.

‘’You said that your carriage would be waiting for you at the port, Jeanne?’’

‘’Correct, Louis. In fact, I can now see my carriage coming up at the entrance to the quay.’’

Louis-Napoléon nodded his head with approval when the big two-horse carriage stopped in front of their group. It had four doors, was painted a lustrous royal blue and gold and its four wheels had steel coil spring independent suspensions and rubber rims.

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‘’A German-style saloon carriage? You certainly offer yourself the best there is, Jeanne.’’

‘’I actually had it built to my own specifications, my dear Louis. Let’s install the boys first, so that they could sleep: the poor kids are about to drop. LUC, I WILL TAKE CARE OF MY GUESTS. LOAD THE LUGGAGE IN THE MEANTIME.’’

‘’RIGHT AWAY, MADAM!’’

Jeanne climbed in the passenger cabin as Luc Rémillard climbed down from his sheltered driver’s bench to start loading in the rear trunk of the big carriage the dozen or so suitcases and chests of the group. Watched by the curious eyes of Louis and Harriet, she removed two safety pegs before sliding out from the rear section a sort of internal platform that covered the baggage trunk, extending it over the rear seats and anchoring it to the top of the middle side jump seats. She then took out from a storage box situated under the rear seats a rolled, thin mattress, a few wool blankets and three pillows, laying them out on the extended rear platform.

‘’Here you are! By temporarily sacrificing the rear seats, this system of retracting bed allows two adults to sleep comfortably during long trips. Come on, boys! Come up and get into bed!’’

The three boys eagerly obeyed her, climbing aboard with the help of Louis, to then undress before slipping with delight under the blankets. Harriet kissed the three boys on the forehead once they were installed.

‘’Sleep well, my little ones.’’

Louis was further surprised by the conception of the carriage when he sat in one of the two cushioned forward seats, which faced aft, finding them to be uncommonly comfortable. The seat cushions were made of royal blue velvet and seemed to contain springs inside their padding. The seats were also equipped with padded armrests and head-high padded back cushions.

‘’My god, I love this carriage design. I should order a similar one.’’

‘’Wait, you haven’t seen everything yet, Louis.’’ replied Jeanne. ‘’The front and rear seats can be reclined, on top of being fixed to spring suspensions of their own. You and Harriet will be able to sleep on the way, like your children.’’

‘’They can recline? How?’’

‘’Press your back against your seat and push, while raising this little lever under your right side armrest. To put it back straight, you will then only need to squeeze the lever again while taking your back off the seat.’’

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Jeanne smiled to herself as Louis and Harriet tried their reclining seats, a concept from the future that however needed only a primitive technology well within the capabilities of this time. She then climbed down from the cabin to help Luc finish loading their pieces of luggage. Once that was finished, she climbed back in the cabin and sat on one of the central, forward-facing seats. Harriet, who had reclined her seat, sighed with

contentment when the carriage started rolling, the noise of the wheels of the pavement muffled by the rubber rims.

‘’Louis was right: we should get a carriage like this one. What a contrast with that horrible ferry boat.’’

‘’I must say that the passenger facilities on our ferry were rather minimal.’’ said Jeanne, attracting an indignant reply from Louis.

‘’Minimal? How about nonexistent? In truth, that crossing exhausted me, on top of making me sick.’’

‘’Then, feel free to catch some sleep, Louis. You too, Harriet. I will wake you up once we will be at my place.’’

‘’You are decidedly too good, Jeanne.’’ said Harriet, making Jeanne shrug.

‘’It is in my nature to help others, Harriet.’’

Giving up to her fatigue, Harriet then let herself go to sleep in her padded, reclined seat, soon imitated by Louis-Napoléon Bonaparte. Now the lone one awake in the cabin, Jeanne fixed for a long moment the small man, thinking about all the events which were going to happen around the future French emperor in the coming months and years. A few discreet but well-informed counsels given at key moments by her to Louis would probably be sufficient to avoid many tragedies and much human suffering during the 23 years to come. However, Jeanne/Nancy understood too well the consequences of giving such counsels to Louis-Napoléon Bonaparte, or to anyone else from this time period. Trying to avoid future tragedies by changing history would only create new ones, on top of completely screwing up known history and preventing her own future origin from happening. That would also prevent the formation of the Time Patrol and would leave her a person that would never be born. Human history was drenched with blood and tears but she could not change in any significant way the history of this period. All that she could do was to do acts of charity to help a few hundred poor people who would stay anonymous in history. In that, the friendship and support of the future emperor could only help her in her projects. Later, in about a hundred years, her charitable

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foundation would then be able to help in its full capacity those multitudes of unfortunate people in the 20th Century who deserved help.

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