Dun and Dusted, Part I; Book 7 of Poacher's Progress .
Chapter 7: Paris. The Sorbonne.

Copyright© 2019 by Jack Green

August 15th 1832.

Mimi and I left London, leaving the children at Kensington Palace, and travelled directly to Paris. Mollie and Caroline had barely noticed our departure, as they, along with the rest of the females at the palace, were so enthralled by Lieutenant Darcy Algernon Grenville Fitzhugh that nothing took pride of place in their lives but him.
When Mimi and I entered the nursery to bid them farewell all the girls could talk about was ‘Uncle Darcy’ taking them riding the following morning.
“And now we have our own ponies to ride,” Mollie said, bubbling with joy. We kissed the girls goodbye and left. Mimi managed to hold her tears in check, whereas our daughters seemed unconcerned by our leaving, being far too involved with their thoughts of the morrow.


Mimi hugged a jubilant Jean-Woodrow. “How wonderful that you have been accepted for the Sorbonne. Your father would be so proud of you.”
I doubt if Woody had even been aware of the existence of the Paris University, known throughout ‘Academia’ as The Sorbonne, let alone imagine any child of his would attend such a distinguished centre of learning. Nevertheless, I shook Jean-Woodrow’s hand and agreed with his mother.
Jean-Woodrow had arrived in Paris a week before sitting the examination, and I think having his mother nearby steadied his nerve. In any event, he passed with flying colours, and was invited to join the university when the academic year began in September.

“Monsieur and Madam Blanchard, may, I congratulate you on producing such an academically gifted son.”
A small man, with thinning grey hair, intelligent bright blue eyes, and an academic stoop, thrust his hand towards me. Mimi and I exchanged baffled glances.
Jean-Woodrow gave a beaming smile. “Monsieur Courvoisier, may I present my step- father and my mother; Sir Elijah and Lady Mimi Greenaway.”
The smile on Courvoisier’s face vanished, replaced by embarrassment.
He switched from speaking French to English.
“Sir Elijah, Lady Mimi, my humblest apologises. On the examination list your step-son is named as Jean-Woodrow Blanchard and natur...”
I stopped him by taking hold of his still outstretched hand and giving it a firm shake.
“Jean-Woodrow’s full surname is Renoir Allen Blanchard. Renoir for his mother, Allen for his late father, and Blanchard as he will be the next Master of Château Blanchard when he reaches his maturity.”
Courvoisier’s mouth dropped open in surprise. “Château Blanchard, near the town of Valenciennes?”
“Yes, do you know the château, Monsieur?”
“No, but I knew Brigadier Raoul Blanchard, who lived there. He was a good friend of my superior when I was in Egypt.”
“You served with Bonaparte in Egypt?” I said, surprised that such an unmilitary looking fellow should have been in the army.
“Not as a soldier but as a savant – a scientist. I was Monsieur Michel Ange-Lancret’s assistant.” He saw the name meant nothing to me, and explained. “Monsieur Ange-Lancret was the man who first realised the significance of what has since become known as the Rosetta Stone.”
I was still none the wiser, but nodded my head sagely as if I had understood every word he uttered.

Courvoisier diplomatically changed subject when he realised my incomprehension. “How long will you and Lady Greenaway be staying in Paris?”
“We intend staying another week or so, until Jean-Woodrow has settled into university life. He will lodge with his uncle and aunt during term time, and as he knows Paris quite well starting at the Sorbonne will not be as difficult for him as for those new to the city, and with no relatives resident.”
Courvoisier smiled, and nodded in agreement. He turned to leave but I stayed him.
“I wonder, Monsieur Courvoisier, if I could have a word with you regarding Brigadier Blanchard? The Brigadier’s wife, Annette, adopted Mimi, her sister, and their cousin. Alas, Annette died some fifteen years ago, but I know the Blanchard Girls, as I refer to the three girls, would like to hear all that you know about their benefactor’s husband.”
“I have a lecture to deliver tomorrow morning, but will be free after ten of the clock. I will be happy to see you then, and relate all I know of the gallant General Blanchard.” Courvoisier said, before taking his leave.

In the carriage returning to the Garibaldi’s residence in the 7th Arrondissement I told Mimi I would be meeting Courvoisier the next day.
“Shall you accompany me to hear what he has to say regarding Raoul Blanchard?”
Mimi fingered her sapphire pendant a moment in thought before replying. “I have no memory of Annette’s husband as he was away so often. What I know of him is from Annette, and she of course did not know of his military exploits. Chloe and I are going shopping tomorrow. Jean-Woodrow needs a gown and cap to wear at the Sorbonne, besides requiring textbooks for his studies, so I will not come with you. But you can give me the salient details when you return.”
As is wont with females Mimi then changed the subject of the conversation without warning.
“Chloe has been so busy with her many activities she has not had the time to show us around Paris. It was just as well Darcy gave us an itinerary to follow; otherwise we would have been lost.” She gave me a mischievous smile, and then a full kiss on my lips. “Maybe you and I will manage a gallop one evening around the Jardin du Luxembourg.” She said, after withdrawing her tongue from my mouth, and her hand from my groin.
It appeared Mimi was fully conversant with the different meanings of ‘galloping’!

Chloe and Armand were involved in the political life of Paris, but were not of the same political hue. During the brief insurrection in June of 1832 Chloe supported the Republicans, while Armand had favoured the monarchy, albeit a more efficient one than currently existed. He was one of the many Frenchmen who looked back to the time Napoleon commanded France, and most of Europe, as France’s Golden Age, and would relish another Bonaparte being at the helm of the country. Armand was now a French citizen, due to a recently passed law awarding citizenship to all those born in territory under French rule, as Nice was when he was born. He hoped to be chosen as a deputy to the National Assembly, but his chances were being undermined by the fierce Republican views held, and loudly expressed, by his wife.

Paris was calm after the abortive uprising that had taken place in June, although signs of the conflict could still be seen in many parts of Paris. Cobbles, ripped up from the streets and used as missiles against the government troops, had not been fully replaced, and musket balls, fired by soldiers and rebels, had splintered and scarred many trees and buildings.

Our carriage pulled up outside the Garabaldi’s residence in the Rue Chevert, an area unaffected by the recent rebellion.
“What activities, other than political, does Chloe have that keep her so busy?” I said, as I handed Mimi down from the carriage.
She gave me a withering look. “Remind yourself how Chloe behaved at Blanchards before marrying Armand, and then use your imagination.”
“You think Chloe has taken a lover?”
“No Jacques. I know Chloe has taken many lovers!”


“I first met Brigadier Blanchard in July, seventeen ninety nine. This was after the return of Napoleon from Syria, and the abortive siege of Acre.”
Alain Courvoisier and I were seated in his rather splendid office in the Sorbonne. When we shook hands on my arrival he had informed me of his given name, and asked he be addressed by it.
A carafe of a white wine and several glasses were on a side table, and Courvoisier puffed on a gnarled, walnut bowled, pipe.
“Brigadier Blanchard’s demi-brigade, part of General Kléber’s division, had taken part in the successful battle of Abukir on July the twenty sixth, where over a ten thousand Ottoman troops were killed in battle, drowned. or captured.” Courvoisier puffed out a huge cloud of smoke. “General Blanchard was always polite and courteous towards me, although his friendship was with Lancret, and I was nothing more than Lancret’s scribe. They would sit and chat about mutual friends and events while I copied Egyptians hieroglyphics, sketched monuments and temples, and all the other evidence of a previous great civilization.”
“You are an artist, Alain?”
He chuckled. “No, just an amateur dauber, I fear. I trained as a botanist, and it was the greatest surprise of my life when chosen to accompany the Army of Italy, as the Army of the Orient was then known, on an expedition of which only a favoured few knew the destination. When I boarded La Junal at Toulon, Lancret took me on as his scribe, but I was also expected to make sketches of whatever interested Lancret, and tabulate and record everything. He, of course, was a mathematician.”

 
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