(1807.)
MEANWHILE the severity of winter gradually lessened in Poland, and
everything indicated a renewal of hostilities. The bulletin of the 16th
of May informed us that the Emperor of Russia had rejoined his army; and
the temperate language in which the sovereigns were spoken of, together
with the epithet of “brave soldiers” applied to the Russians, made us
understand that a vigorous resistance was expected. The siege of Dantzic
was intrusted to Marshal Lefebvre; some skirmishing took place, and
finally, on the 24th of May, Dantzic capitulated. The Emperor
immediately removed thither. To reward the Marshal, he made him Duke of
Dantzic, and, together with the title, granted him a considerable sum of
money. This was the first creation of the kind. He pointed out its
advantages, in his own way, in a letter which he wrote to the Senate on
the occasion; and he endeavored to lay particular stress on those
reasons for this step which would be least unwelcome to lovers of
equality, whose opinions he was always careful to respect. I have often
heard him speak of the motives which led him to create an intermediate
caste, as he called it, between himself and the vast democracy of
France. His reasons were, the necessity of rewarding important services
in a way not onerous to the state, and of contenting French vanity, and
also that he might have a court about him, like the other sovereigns of
Europe. “Liberty,” he used to say, “is needed by a small and privileged
class, who are gifted by nature with abilities greater than those of the
bulk of mankind. It can therefore be restricted with impunity. Equality,
on the other hand, delights the multitude. I do not hurt that principle
by giving titles to certain men, without respect of birth, which is now
an exploded notion. I act monarchically in creating hereditary rank, but
I remain within the principles of the Revolution, because my nobility is
not exclusive. The titles I bestow are a kind of civic crown; they may
be won by good actions. Besides, it is a sign of ability when rulers
communicate to those they govern the same impulses they have themselves.
Now, I move by ascending, and the nation must rise in the same way.”
On one occasion, after laying down this system in his wife’s presence
and mine, he suddenly paused—he had been walking up and down the room,
as was his habit—and said: “It is not that I do not perceive that all
these nobles whom I create, and especially the dukes whom I endow with
enormous sums of money, will become partially independent of me. Their
honors and riches will tempt them to get loose, and they will acquire
probably what they will call the _spirit of their class_.” On this he
resumed his walk and was silent for a few minutes; then, turning to us
abruptly, he added, with a smile of which I can not attempt to analyze
the expression, “Ah, but they won’t run so fast but that I shall be able
to catch them!”
Although Lefebvre’s military services were a sufficient reason for the
gifts which the Emperor assigned to him from the battle-field, yet the
mocking humor of the Parisians, unaffected by even justly won glory,
exercised itself upon the dignity of the new Duke. There was something
of the barrack-room about him which partly encouraged this, and his
wife, who was old and excessively homely in her manners, became the
object of general ridicule. She openly expressed her preference for the
pecuniary part of the Emperor’s gifts, and when she made this admission
in the drawing-room at Saint Cloud, and the simplicity of the speech
made some of us laugh, she reddened with anger and said to the Empress,
“Madame, I beg you to make your young hussies hold their tongues.” It
may be imagined that such a sally did not lessen our mirth.
The Emperor would willingly have put a stop to jesting on these points,
but that was beyond his power; and, as it was known that he was
sensitive on the subject, this was a favorite way of retaliating upon
him for his tyranny.
Witty sayings and _calembourgs_ were current in Paris, and written off
to the army. The Emperor, in his vexation, rebuked the Minister of
Police for his carelessness. The latter, affecting a certain disdainful
liberality, replied that he thought he might as well leave idle people
amusement of this kind. However, on learning that contemptuous or
ill-natured remarks had been made in any Paris drawing-room, the
Minister would send for the master or mistress of the house, advise them
to keep a better watch over their guests, and dismiss them full of an
undefined suspicion of their social circle.
Afterward the Emperor contrived to reconcile the old to the new
nobility, by offering the former a share in his gifts; and they, feeling
that every concession, however small in itself, was a recognition of
their privileges, did not disdain favors which replaced them in their
former position.
Meanwhile, the army was strongly reënforced. All our allies contributed
to it. Spaniards hurried across France in order to fight against
Russians on the Vistula; not a sovereign ventured to disobey the orders
he received. The bulletin of the 12th of June announced that hostilities
had recommenced; it also contained an account of the efforts that had
been made to bring about a peace. M. de Talleyrand anxiously desired
this; perhaps the Emperor himself was not averse to it: but the English
Government refused to consent; the young Czar flattered himself that
Austerlitz would be forgotten; Prussia was weary of us and wishing for
the return of her King; Bonaparte, as conqueror, imposed severe
conditions, and war broke out again. Some partial engagements were to
our advantage, and our usual activity was resumed. The two armies met at
Friedland, and we gained another great and hardly contested victory.
Yet, notwithstanding our success, the Emperor felt assured that,
whenever he should be pitted against the Russians, he must be prepared
for a severe struggle, and that on himself and Alexander depended the
fate of the Continent.
A considerable number of our general officers were wounded at Friedland.
M. de Nansouty, my brother-in-law, behaved most gallantly: in order to
support the movements of the army, he endured the enemy’s fire for
several hours at the head of his division of heavy cavalry, maintaining
his men, by his own example, in a state of very trying inaction, which
may be said to have been as sanguinary as the thick of the fight. Prince
Borghese was sent from the battle-field to Saint Cloud to convey the
news of the victory to the Empress; he held out at the same time the
hope of an early peace, and the rumor, which was soon spread, was no
little enhancement of the victory.
The battle of Friedland was followed by a rapid march of our troops. The
Emperor reached the village of Tilsit, on the banks of the Niemen. The
river separated the two armies. An armistice was proposed by the Russian
commander and accepted by us; negotiations were begun.
While these events were taking place, I had gone to Aix-la-Chapelle,
where I was leading a quiet life, and waiting, like the rest of Europe,
for the end of this terrible war. I met there M. Alexandre de Lameth,
who was Prefect of the department. After taking a conspicuous part at
the beginning of the Revolution, he had emigrated, and, after long years
in an Austrian prison, had eventually returned to France at the same
time as M. de la Fayette. Entering the Emperor’s service, he attained
the post of Prefect of the department of the Roer, as it was called, and
managed it extremely well. The education I had received, the opinions I
had heard expressed by my mother and her friends, had prejudiced me
strongly against all who had aided the Revolution in 1789. I looked upon
M. de Lameth as simply factious and ungrateful toward the Court, and as
having thrown himself into opposition as a means of obtaining a
celebrity flattering to his ambition. I was still more inclined to hold
this opinion, because I found that he was a great admirer of Bonaparte,
who certainly did not govern France on a system which emanated from the
Constituent Assembly. But it may be that, like the majority of
Frenchmen, our anarchy had sickened him of liberty so dearly bought, and
that he sincerely welcomed a despotism which restored order to the
country.
My acquaintance with him gave me the opportunity of hearing him
discourse upon the rights of citizens, the balance of power, and liberty
in a restricted sense, M. de Lameth defended the intentions of the
Constituent Assembly, and I had no inclination to dispute the point with
him; it seemed of little importance at the date we had then reached. He
attempted to justify the conduct of the deputies in 1789; and, though I
was unequal to arguing with him, I felt confusedly that he was wrong,
and that the Constituent Assembly had not fulfilled its mission with due
impartiality and conscientiousness. But I was struck with the utility to
a nation of less ephemeral institutions, and the ardent words to which I
listened, together with the depression produced in me by our endless
wars, sowed in my mind the seeds of wholesome and generous thought,
which subsequent events have developed in full. But, whatever our ideas
may have been at that time, our reason or our instinct was forced to
bend before the triumphant fortune which was then raising Napoleon to
the zenith of his fame. He could no longer be judged by ordinary rule;
fortune was so constantly at his side that, in rushing onward to the
most brilliant as well as the most deplorable excesses, he seemed to be
obeying destiny.
In the mean time the important political circumstances gave rise, at
Aix-la-Chapelle as well as in Paris, to rumors of every kind. The
kingdom of Poland was to be founded, and given to Jérôme Bonaparte, who
was to marry a daughter of the Emperor of Austria, and our Emperor was
to carry out the old project of the divorce. The public mind was excited
by the gigantic proportions of actual events, and became more and more
possessed by that longing for the extraordinary which the Emperor so
ably turned to advantage. And, indeed, why should not the country,
seeing what was happening, expect that anything might happen? Mme.
d’Houdetot, who was then living, said of Bonaparte, “He diminishes
history and enlarges imagination.”
After the battle of Friedland the Emperor wrote a really fine letter to
the bishops. The following phrase occurs in it: “This victory has
commemorated the anniversary of the battle of Marengo—of that day when,
still covered with the dust of the battle-field, our first thought, our
first care, were for the reëstablishment of order and peace in the
Church of France.” In Paris the _Te Deum_ was sung and the city was
illuminated.
On the 25th of June the two Emperors, having embarked one on each bank
of the Niemen, in presence of a portion of the two armies, set foot at
the same moment in the pavilion that had been erected for them on a raft
in the middle of the river. They embraced on meeting, and remained
together for two hours. The Emperor Napoleon was accompanied by Dumas,
his Grand Marshal, and Caulaincourt, his Grand Equerry; the Czar, by his
brother Constantine and two great personages of his Court. In that
interview the peace was definitely settled. Bonaparte consented to
restore a portion of his states to the King of Prussia, although his own
inclination was toward a complete change of the form of the conquered
countries, because an entire transformation would better suit his
policy, which had universal dominion for its basis. He was, however,
obliged to sacrifice some part of his projects during this final treaty.
The Czar might still be a formidable enemy, and Napoleon knew that
France was growing weary of the war and demanded his presence. A longer
campaign would have led the army into enterprises of which none could
foresee the issue. It was, therefore, necessary to postpone a portion of
the great plan, and once more to call a halt. The Poles, who had
reckoned upon complete liberation, beheld the portion of Poland that had
belonged to Prussia turned into the duchy of Warsaw, and given to the
King of Saxony as in pledge. Dantzic became a free town, and the King of
Prussia undertook to close his ports to the English. The Emperor of
Russia offered to mediate with England for peace; and Napoleon imagined
that the great importance of the mediator would terminate the quarrel.
His vanity was deeply concerned in bringing our insular neighbors to
recognize his royalty. He frequently said afterward that he felt at
Tilsit that the question of continental empire would one day be decided
between the Czar and himself; and that the magnanimity which Alexander
displayed, the young Prince’s admiration of him, and the genuine
enthusiasm with which he had been inspired in his presence, had
captivated him, and led him to desire that, instead of a total rupture,
a firm and lasting alliance should take place, which might lead to the
division of the Continent between two great sovereigns.
On the 26th the King of Prussia joined the illustrious party on the
raft, and after the conference the three sovereigns repaired to Tilsit,
where they remained while the negotiations lasted, exchanging visits
every day, dining together, holding reviews, and appearing to be on the
best possible terms. Bonaparte employed all the resources of his mind on
this occasion, and kept a close watch over himself. He flattered the
young Emperor, and completely captivated him. M. de Talleyrand completed
the conquest by the skill and grace with which he sustained and colored
his master’s policy; so that Alexander conceived a great friendship for
him, and trusted him entirely. The Queen of Prussia came to Tilsit, and
Bonaparte did all he could to efface the impression of his bulletins, by
treating her with the utmost attention. Neither the Queen nor her
husband could complain. They, the two dispossessed, were forced to
receive what was restored to them of their states with gratitude. These
illustrious conquered ones concealed their pain, and the Emperor
believed that he had gained them to his cause by reëstablishing them in
the parceled-out kingdom from which he was unable to drive them
altogether. He secured to himself in his treaty means of constant
supervision, by leaving French garrisons in the states of certain
second-rate princes; for instance, in Saxony, Coburg, Oldenburg, and
Mecklenburg-Schwerin. A portion of his army still remained on the
northern coast, because it appeared that the King of Sweden would not
enter into the treaty. And, lastly, this war gave birth to a new
kingdom, composed of Westphalia and a portion of the Prussian states.
Jérôme Bonaparte was adorned with this new kingship, and his marriage
with the Princess Catherine was arranged.
M. de Talleyrand and Prince Kourakine signed this treaty on the 9th of
July, 1807, and the Emperor, wearing the decoration of the Russian Order
of St. Andrew, immediately visited the Czar. He asked to see the Russian
soldier who had conducted himself best during the campaign, and gave him
the cross of the Legion with his own hand. The two sovereigns embraced
anew, and parted, after having promised each other an eternal
friendship. Decorations were distributed on both sides. Farewells were
exchanged with great pomp between Bonaparte and the King of Prussia, and
the Continent was once more pacified.
It was impossible to withhold admiration from glory such as this, but it
is certain that the country took much less part in it than formerly.
People began to perceive that it was of the nature of a yoke for us,
though a brilliant one; and, as they were coming to know and distrust
Bonaparte, they feared the consequences of the intoxication which his
power might produce in him. Lastly, the predominance of the military
element was exciting uneasiness; the foreseen vanities of the sword
wounded individual pride. A secret trouble mingled with the general
admiration, and the gloom which it produced was chiefly observable among
those whose places or whose rank must bring them again into contact with
Napoleon. We wondered whether the rude despotism of his manners would
not be more than ever apparent in all his daily actions. We were still
smaller than before in his sight, by all the difference of his added
greatness, and we foresaw that he would make us feel this. Each of us
made his examination of conscience with scrupulous care, seeking to
discover on what point our hard master would manifest his displeasure on
his return. Wife, family, great dignitaries, Ministers, the whole
Court—in fact, everybody suffered from this apprehension; and the
Empress, who knew him better than anybody else, expressed her uneasiness
in the simplest way, saying, “The Emperor is so lucky that he will be
sure to scold a great deal.” The magnanimity of kings consists in
elevating those around them by pouring out upon them a portion of their
own moral greatness; but Bonaparte, who was naturally jealous always
isolated himself, and dreaded anything like sharing. His gifts were
immense after this campaign, but it was perceived that he paid for
services in order that he might hear no more of them; and his
recompenses were so evidently the closing of an account that they
excited no gratitude, while they did, on the contrary, revive claims.
While the momentous interviews of Tilsit were taking place, nothing
happened at Paris except the removal of the body of the young Napoleon
from Saint Leu, in the valley of Montmorency (the residence of Prince
Louis), to Notre Dame. The Arch-Chancellor received the coffin at the
church, and it was committed to the care of the Cardinal Archbishop of
Paris (De Belloy) until the termination of the repairs of Saint Denis,
when it was to be placed in the ancient abbey. The vaults which had
contained the ashes of our kings were then in course of reconstruction.
The scattered remains, which had been outraged during the Reign of
Terror, were now collected together, and the Emperor had given orders
for the erection of expiatory altars in reparation of the sacrilege that
had been perpetrated upon the illustrious dead. This fine and princely
idea did him great honor, and was fitly extolled by some of the poets of
the period.
When the Emperor returned to France, his wife was living at Saint Cloud
with all possible precaution and the strictest prudence. His mother was
living quietly in Paris; her brother, Cardinal Fesch, resided with her.
Mme. Murat inhabited the Elysée, and was skillfully conducting a number
of small schemes. The Princess Borghese was leading the only kind of
life she understood or cared for. Louis and his wife were in the
Pyrenees; they had left their child with the Empress. Joseph Bonaparte
was reigning at Naples, benevolently but feebly, disputing Calabria with
the rebels, and his ports with the English. Lucien was living at Rome,
devoting himself to leisure and the fine arts. Jérôme brought back a
crown; Murat, a strong desire to obtain one, and a deeply cherished
animosity against M. de Talleyrand, whom he regarded as his enemy. He
had formed an intimacy with Maret, the Secretary of State, who was
secretly jealous of the Secretary for Foreign Affairs, and he highly
approved of his wife’s friendship with Fouché. These four persons were
well aware that the Emperor had conceived, and was cherishing, the
project of a divorce and an illustrious alliance; and they endeavored by
every means to destroy the last links which still bound Josephine to
Bonaparte, so that they might please the Emperor by aiding him to carry
out this idea, and might also foil the Beauharnais and prevent M. de
Talleyrand from acquiring a fresh claim to the confidence of his master.
They wanted to have the direction of this affair in their own hands
only.
M. de Talleyrand had been laboring for several years to acquire a
European reputation, which, on the whole, he well deserved. No doubt he
had more than once approached the subject of the divorce, but he was
especially anxious that this step should lead to the Emperor’s
contracting a great alliance, of which he (M. de Talleyrand) should have
the negotiation. So that, so long as he did not feel certain of
succeeding in his objects, he contrived to restrain the Emperor in this
matter by representing to him that it was of the utmost importance to
select the fitting moment for action. When he returned from this
campaign, the Emperor seemed to place more confidence than ever in M. de
Talleyrand, who had been very useful to him in Poland and in each of his
treaties. His new dignity gave M. de Talleyrand the right to replace
Prince Joseph wherever the rank of Grand Elector called him; but it also
obliged him to relinquish the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, which was
beneath his present rank. He was, however, entirely in Napoleon’s
confidence with respect to foreign affairs, and was consulted by him in
preference to the real Minister. Some would-be wise persons claimed
afterward to have foreseen that M. de Talleyrand was exchanging a secure
post for a brilliant but precarious position; and Bonaparte himself let
it appear sometimes that he had not returned from Tilsit without feeling
some displeasure at the preponderance of his Minister in Europe, and
that he was annoyed at the generally prevalent belief that M. de
Talleyrand was necessary to him. By changing his office, and availing
himself of his services in consultation only, he made use of him just as
he wished, while reserving the power of setting him aside or of not
following his guidance whenever either course should suit him. I
remember an anecdote which illustrates this position of affairs. M. de
Champagny, a clever but narrow-minded man, was transferred from the
Ministry of the Interior to that of Foreign Affairs, and M. de
Talleyrand, on presenting to him the various persons who were to be
under his authority, said: “Here, sir, are many highly commendable
persons. They will give you every satisfaction. You will find them
capable, punctual, exact, and trustworthy, but, thanks to my training,
not at all zealous.” At these words M. de Champagny expressed some
surprise. “Yes,” continued M. de Talleyrand, affecting the utmost
seriousness; “with the exception of a few dispatching clerks, who fold
up their covers with undue precipitation, every one here observes the
greatest calmness, and all are totally unused to haste. When you have
had to transact the business of the interests of Europe with the Emperor
for a little while, you will see how important it is not to be in any
hurry to seal and send off his decisions.” M. de Talleyrand amused the
Emperor by relating this incident, and describing the crestfallen and
astonished air with which his successor received the useful hint. It
will not be inappropriate to place here a statement of the cumulative
income of which M. de Talleyrand was at this time in the receipt:
Francs.
As Grand Elector 330,000
As Grand Chamberlain 40,000
From the Principality of Benevento 120,000
As Grand Cross of the Legion of Honor 5,000
————
Total 495,000
Certain endowments were afterward added to this sum. His personal
fortune was estimated at three hundred thousand louis per annum; I never
knew whether this was correct. The various treaties brought him immense
sums of money and presents of enormous value. He lived in great style,
and made very handsome allowances to his brothers. He bought the fine
estate of Valençay, and furnished the house most luxuriously. At the
time of which I am now speaking he had a fancy for books, and his
library was superb. That year the Emperor ordered him to make a
sumptuous display, and to purchase a house suitable to his dignity as a
prince, promising that he himself would pay for it. M. de Talleyrand
bought the Hôtel de Monaco, Rue de Varenne, enlarged it, and decorated
it extensively. The Emperor, having quarreled with him, did not keep his
word, but threw him into considerable embarrassment by obliging him to
pay for this palace himself.
In concluding my sketch of the position of the Imperial family, I must
add that Prince Eugène was then governing his fair realm of Italy with
wisdom and prudence, happy in the affection of his wife, and rejoicing
in the birth of their little daughter.
The Arch-Chancellor Cambacérès, who was cautious both by nature and
training, remained in Paris, maintaining a certain state assigned to him
by the Emperor, and which delighted his childish vanity. With equal
prudence he presided over the State Council, conducting the debates with
method and discernment, and contriving that the prescribed limits should
never be exceeded. Le Brun, the Arch-Treasurer, interfered little with
affairs; he kept up a certain state and managed his own revenues, giving
no cause of offense and exerting no influence.
The Ministers confined themselves to their respective duties, preserving
the attitude of attentive and docile clerks, and conducting the affairs
with which they were intrusted on a uniform system, which had for its
basis the will and the interests of their master. Each one’s orders were
the same: “_Promptitude_ and _submission_.” The Minister of Police
allowed himself a greater liberty of speech than the others. He was
careful to keep on good terms with the Jacobins, for whose good behavior
he made himself responsible to the Emperor. On this very account he was
a little more independent, for he was at the head of a party. He had the
direction of the various branches of police set over France, and was
master of the details. Bonaparte and he may have often told each other
falsehoods in their interviews, but probably neither of them was
deceived.
M. de Champagny, subsequently Duc de Cadore, who had been Minister of
the Interior, was placed at the head of foreign affairs, and was
succeeded in his former post by State Councilor Crétet, who had been at
first Director-General of Public Works (Ponts et Chaussées). He was not
a clever man, but hard-working and assiduous, and that was all that the
Emperor required.
Requier, the Chief Judge, subsequently Duc de Massa, of whom I have
already spoken, administered justice with persevering mediocrity. The
Emperor was anxious that neither the authority nor the independence of
the law should increase.
The Prince de Neufchâtel made an able War Minister. General Dejean was
at the head of the Commissariat Department. Both were under the personal
superintendence of the Emperor.
M. Gaudin, the wise Minister of Finance, observed an order and
regularity in the management of taxes and receipts which rendered him
valuable to the Emperor. This was his sole employment. Afterward he was
created Due de Gaëta.
The Minister of the Treasury, M. Mollien, subsequently created a count,
showed more talent and much financial sagacity.
M. Portalis, the Minister of Public Worship, was a man of talent and
ability, and had maintained harmony between the clergy and the
Government. It must be stated that the clergy, out of gratitude for the
security and consideration which they owed to Bonaparte, submitted to
him very willingly, and were partisans of a despotic authority conducive
to universal order. When he demanded the levy of the conscripts of 1808,
of which I have already spoken, he ordered the bishops, according to his
usual custom, to exhort the peasantry to submit to the conscription.
Their pastoral letters were very remarkable. In that of the Bishop of
Quimper were these words: “What French heart will not ardently bless
Divine Providence for having bestowed on this magnificent empire, when
it was on the point of being for ever crushed beneath blood-stained
ruins, the only man who, as Emperor and King, could repair its
misfortunes and throw a veil of glory over the period of its dishonor?”
The death of M. Portalis occurred during this year, and he was succeeded
by an excellent though less able man, M. Bigot de Préameneu, Councilor
of State, who was subsequently made a count.
In conclusion, the Naval Minister had little occupation from the time
that Bonaparte, giving up the hope of subduing England at sea, and vexed
with the failure of all his maritime undertakings, had ceased to
interest himself in naval affairs. M. Décrès, a man of real ability, was
altogether pleasing to his master. His manners were rather rough, but he
flattered Bonaparte after an unusual fashion. He cared little for public
esteem, and was willing to bear the odium of the injustice with which
the Emperor treated the French navy, so that it never appeared to
emanate from Bonaparte himself. With unfaltering devotion, M. Décrès
incurred and endured the resentment of all his former companions and
friends. The Emperor afterward made him a duke.
At the time of which I am writing the Court atmosphere was cold and
silent. There, especially, we were all impressed with the conviction
that our privileges depended solely on the will of the master; and, as
that will was apt to be capricious, the difficulty of providing against
it led each individual to avoid taking needless action, and to restrict
himself to the more or less narrow circle of the duties of his office.
The ladies of the Court were still more cautious, and did not attempt
anything beyond winning admiration either by their beauty or their
attire. In Paris itself people were becoming more and more indifferent
to the working of a mechanism of which they could see the results and
feel the power, but in whose action they knew they could have no share.
Social life was not wanting in attractions. French people, if they are
but at peace, will immediately seek for pleasure. But credit was
restricted, interest in national affairs was languid, and all the higher
and nobler sentiments of public life were wellnigh paralyzed. Thoughtful
minds were disturbed, and true citizens must have felt that they were
leading useless lives. As a sort of compensation, they accepted the
pleasures of an agreeable and varied social existence. Civilization was
increased by luxury, which, while enervating the mind, makes social
relations pleasanter. It procures for people of the world a number of
little interests, which are almost always sufficient for them, and with
which they do not feel ashamed of being satisfied, when for a length of
time they have been suffering from the greater political disorders. The
recollection of the latter was still fresh in our memory, and it made us
prize this period of brilliant slavery and elegant idleness.
[Illustration: Queen Louise trying to win favour from Napoleon for
Prussia.]