1802.
General Bernadotte pacifies La vendee and suppresses a mutiny at
Tours--Bonaparte's injustice towards him--A premeditated scene--
Advice given to Bernadotte, and Bonaparte disappointed--The First
Consul's residence at St. Cloud--His rehearsals for the Empire--
His contempt of mankind--Mr. Fox and Bonaparte--Information of plans
of assassination--A military dinner given by Bonaparte--Moreau not
of the party--Effect of the 'Senates-consultes' on the Consulate for
life--Journey to Plombieres--Previous scene between Lucien and
Josephine--Theatrical representations at Neuilly and Malmaison--
Loss of a watch, and honesty rewarded--Canova at St. Cloud--
Bonaparte's reluctance to stand for a model.
Having arrived at nearly the middle of the career which I have undertaken
to trace, before I advance farther I must go back for a few moments, as I
have already frequently done, in order to introduce some circumstances
which escaped my recollection, or which I purposely reserved, that I
might place them amongst facts analogous to them: Thus, for instance, I
have only referred in passing to a man who, since become a monarch, has
not ceased to honour me with his friendship, as will be seen in the
course of my Memoirs, since the part we have seen him play in the events
of the 18th Brumaire. This man, whom the inexplicable combination of
events has raised to a throne for the happiness of the people he is
called to govern, is Bernadotte.
It was evident that Bernadotte must necessarily fall into a kind of
disgrace for not having supported Bonaparte's projects at the period of
the overthrow of the Directory. The First Consul, however, did not dare
to avenge himself openly; but he watched for every opportunity to remove
Bernadotte from his presence, to place him in difficult situations, and
to entrust him with missions for which no precise instructions were
given, in the hope that Bernadotte would commit faults for which the
First Consul might make him wholly responsible.
At the commencement of the Consulate the deplorable war in La Vendee
raged in all its intensity. The organization of the Chouans was
complete, and this civil war caused Bonaparte much more uneasiness than
that which he was obliged to conduct on the Rhine and in Italy, because,
from the success of the Vendeans might arise a question respecting
internal government, the solution of which was likely to be contrary to
Bonaparte's views. The slightest success of the Vendeans spread alarm
amongst the holders of national property; and, besides, there was no hope
of reconciliation between France and England, her eternal and implacable
enemy, as long as the flame of insurrection remained unextinguished.
The task of terminating this unhappy struggle was obviously a difficult
one. Bonaparte therefore resolved to impose it on Bernadotte; but this
general's conciliatory disposition, his chivalrous manners, his tendency
to indulgence, and a happy mixture of prudence and firmness, made him
succeed where others would have failed. He finally established good
order and submission to the laws.
Some time after the pacification of La Vendee a rebellious disposition
manifested itself at Tours amongst the soldiers of a regiment stationed
there. The men refused to march until they received their arrears of
pay. Bernadotte, as commander-in-chief of the army of the west, without
being alarmed at the disturbance, ordered the fifty-second demi-brigade--
the one in question--to be drawn up in the square of Tours, where, at the
very head of the corps, the leaders of the mutiny were by his orders
arrested without any resistance being offered. Carnot who was then
Minister of War, made a report to the First Consul on this affair, which,
but for the firmness of Bernadotte, might have been attended with
disagreeable results. Carnet's report contained a plain statement of the
facts, and of General Bernadotte's conduct. Bonaparte was, however,
desirous to find in it some pretext for blaming him, and made me write
these words on the margin of the report: "General Bernadotte did not act
discreetly in adopting such severe measures against the fifty-second
demi-brigade, he not having the means, if he head been unsuccessful, of
re-establishing order in a town the garrison of which was not strong
enough to subdue the mutineers."
A few days after, the First Consul having learned that the result of this
affair was quite different from that which he affected to dread, and
being convinced that by Bernadotte's firmness alone order had been
restored, he found himself in some measure constrained to write to the
General, and he dictated the following letter to me:
PARIS, 11th Vendemiaire. Year XI.
CITIZEN-GENERAL--I have read with interest the account of what you
did to re-establish order in the fifty-second demi-brigade, and
also the report of General Liebert, dated the 5th Vendemiaire.
Tell that officer that the Government is satisfied with his conduct.
His promotion from the rank of Colonel to that of General of brigade
is confirmed. I wish that brave officer to come to Paris. He has
afforded an example of firmness and energy which does honour to a
soldier.
(Signed) BONAPARTE.
Thus in the same affair Bonaparte, in a few days, from the spontaneous
expression of blame dictated by hate, was reduced to the necessity of
declaring his approbation, which he did, as may be seen, with studied
coldness, and even taking pains to make his praises apply to Colonel
Liebert, and not to the general-in-chief.
Time only served to augment Bonaparte's dislike of Bernadotte. It might
be said that the farther he advanced in his rapid march towards absolute
power the more animosity he cherished against the individual who had
refused to aid his first steps in his adventurous career. At the same
time the persons about Bonaparte who practised the art of flattering
failed not to multiply reports and insinuations against Bernadotte.
I recollect one day, when there was to be a grand public levee, seeing
Bonaparte so much out of temper that I asked him the cause of it. "I can
bear it no longer," he replied impetuously. "I have resolved to have a
scene with Bernadotte to-day. He will probably be here. I will open the
fire, let what will come of it. He may do what he pleases. We shall
see! It is time there should be an end of this."
I had never before observed the First Consul so violently irritated.
He was in a terrible passion, and I dreaded the moment when the levee was
to open. When he left me to go down to the salon I availed myself of the
opportunity to get there before him, which I could easily do, as the
salon was not twenty steps from the cabinet. By good luck Bernadotte was
the first person I saw. He was standing in the recess of a window which
looked on the square of the Carrousel. To cross the salon and reach the
General was the work of a moment. "General!" said I, "trust me and
retire!--I have good reasons for advising it!" Bernadotte, seeing my
extreme anxiety, and aware of the sincere sentiments of esteem end
friendship which I entertained for him, consented to retire, and I
regarded this as a triumph; for, knowing Bernadotte's frankness of
character and his nice sense of honour, I was quite certain that he would
not submit to the harsh observations which Bonaparte intended to address
to him. My stratagem had all the success I could desire. The First
Consul suspected nothing, and remarked only one thing, which was that his
victim was absent. When the levee was over he said to me, "What do you
think of it, Bourrienne?---Bernadotte did not come."--"So much the better
for him, General," was my reply. Nothing further happened. The First
Consul on returning from Josephine found me in the cabinet, and
consequently could suspect nothing, and my communication with Bernadotte
did not occupy five minutes. Bernadotte always expressed himself much
gratified with the proof of friendship I gave him at this delicate
conjuncture. The fact is, that from a disposition of my mind, which I
could not myself account for, the more Bonaparte'a unjust hatred of
Bernadotte increased the more sympathy and admiration I felt for the
noble character of the latter.
The event in question occurred in the spring of 1802. It was at this
period that Bonaparte first occupied St. Cloud, which he was much pleased
with, because he found himself more at liberty there than at the
Tuileries; which palace is really only a prison for royalty, as there a
sovereign cannot even take the air at a window without immediately being
the object of the curiosity of the public, who collect in large crowds.
At St. Cloud, on the contrary, Bonaparte could walk out from his cabinet
and prolong his promenade without being annoyed by petitioners. One of
his first steps was to repair the cross road leading from St. Cloud to
Malmaison, between which places Bonaparte rode in a quarter of an hour.
This proximity to the country, which he liked, made staying at St. Cloud
yet pleasanter to him. It was at St. Cloud that the First Consul made,
if I may so express it, his first rehearsals of the grand drama of the
Empire. It was there he began to introduce, in external forms, the
habits and etiquette which brought to mind the ceremonies of sovereignty.
He soon perceived the influence which pomp of ceremony, brilliancy of
appearance, and richness of costume, exercise over the mass of mankind.
"Men," he remarked to me a this period, "well deserve the contempt I feel
for them. I have only to put some gold lace on the coats of my virtuous
republicans and they immediately become just what I wish them."
I remember one day, after one of his frequent sallies of contempt for
human kind, I observed to him that although baubles might excite vulgar
admiration, there were some distinguished men who did not permit
themselves to be fascinated by their allurements; and I mentioned the
celebrated Fox by way of example, who, previous to the conclusion of the
peace of Amiens, visited Paris, where he was remarked for his extreme
simplicity. The First Consul said, "Ah! you are right with respect to
him. Mr. Fox is a truly great man, and pleases me much."
In fact, Bonaparte always received Mr. Fox's visits with the greatest
satisfaction; and after every conversation they had together he never
failed to express to me the pleasure which he experienced in discoursing
with a man every way worthy of the great celebrity he had attained.
He considered him a very superior man, and wished he might have to treat
with him in his future negotiations with England. It may be supposed
that Mr. Fox, on his part, never forgot the terms of intimacy, I may say
of confidence, on which he had been with the First Consul. In fact, he
on several occasions informed him in time of war of the plots formed
against his life. Less could not be expected from a man of so noble a
character. I can likewise affirm, having more than once been in
possession of proofs of the fact, that the English Government constantly
rejected with indignation all such projects. I do not mean those which
had for their object the overthrow of the Consular or Imperial
Government, but all plans of assassination and secret attacks on the
person of Bonaparte, whether First Consul or Emperor. I will here
request the indulgence of the reader whilst I relate a circumstance which
occurred a year before Mr. Fox's journey to Paris; but as it refers to
Moreau, I believe that the transposition will be pardoned more easily
than the omission.
During the summer 1801 the First Consul took a fancy to give a grand
military dinner at a restaurateur's. The restaurateur he favoured with
his company was Veri, whose establishment was situated on the terrace of
the Feuillans with an entrance into the garden of the Tuileries.
Bonaparte did not send an invitation to Moreau, whom I met by chance that
day in the following manner:--The ceremony of the dinner at Veri's
leaving me at liberty to dispose of my time, I availed myself of it to go
and dine at a restaurateur's named Rose, who then enjoyed great celebrity
amongst the distinguished gastronomes. I dined in company with M.
Carbonnet, a friend of Moreau's family, and two or three other persons.
Whilst we were at table in the rotunda we were informed by the waiter who
attended on us that General Moreau and his wife, with Lacuee and two
other military men, were in an adjoining apartment. Suchet, who had
dined at Veri's, where he said everything was prodigiously dull, on
rising from the table joined Moreau's party. These details we learned
from M. Carbonnet, who left us for a few moments to see the General and
Madame Moreau.
Bonaparte's affectation in not inviting Moreau at the moment when the
latter had returned a conqueror from the army of the Rhine, and at the
same time the affectation of Moreau in going publicly the same day to
dine at another restaurateur's, afforded ground for the supposition that
the coolness which existed between them would soon be converted into
enmity. The people of Paris naturally thought that the conqueror of
Marengo might, without any degradation, have given the conqueror of
Hohenlinden a seat at his table.
By the commencement of the year 1802 the Republic had ceased to be
anything else than a fiction, or an historical recollection. All that
remained of it was a deceptive inscription on the gates of the Palace.
Even at the time of his installation at the Tuileries, Bonaparte had
caused the two trees of liberty which were planted in the court to be cut
down; thus removing the outward emblems before he destroyed the reality.
But the moment the Senatorial decisions of the 2d and 4th of August were
published it was evident to the dullest perceptions that the power of the
First Consul wanted nothing but a name.
After these 'Consultes' Bonaparte readily accustomed himself to regard
the principal authorities of the State merely as necessary instruments
for the exercise of his power. Interested advisers then crowded round
him. It was seriously proposed that he should restore the ancient
titles, as being more in harmony with the new power which the people had
confided to him than the republican forms. He was still of opinion,
however, according to his phrase, that "the pear was not yet ripe," and
would not hear this project spoken of for a moment. "All this," he said
to me one day, "will come in good time; but you must see, Bourrienne,
that it is necessary I should, in the first place, assume a title, from
which the others that I will give to everybody will naturally take their
origin. The greatest difficulty is surmounted. There is no longer any
person to deceive. Everybody sees as clear as day that it is only one
step which separates the throne from the Consulate for life. However, we
must be cautious. There are some troublesome fellows in the Tribunate,
but I will take care of them."
Whilst these serious questions agitated men's minds the greater part of
the residents at Malmaison took a trip to Plombieres. Josephine,
Bonaparte's mother, Madame Beauharnais-Lavallette, Hortense, and General
Rapp, were of this party. It pleased the fancy of the jocund company to
address to me a bulletin of the pleasant and unpleasant occurrences of
the journey. I insert this letter merely as a proof of the intimacy
which existed between the writers and myself. It follows, precisely as I
have preserved it, with the exception of the blots, for which it will be
seen they apologised.
AN ACCOUNT OF THE JOURNEY TO PLOMBIERES.
To the Inhabitants of Malmaison.
The whole party left Malmaison in tears, which brought on such dreadful
headaches that all the amiable persons were quite overcome by the idea of
the journey. Madame Bonaparte, mere, supported the fatigues of this
memorable day with the greatest courage; but Madame Bonaparte,
Consulesse, did not show any. The two young ladies who sat in the
dormouse, Mademoiselle Hortense and Madame Lavallette, were rival
candidates for a bottle of Eau de Cologne; and every now and then the
amiable M. Rapp made the carriage stop for the comfort of his poor little
sick heart, which overflowed with bile: in fine, he was obliged to take
to bed on arriving at Epernay, while the rest of the amiable party tried
to drown their sorrows in champagne. The second day was more fortunate
on the score of health and spirits, but provisions were wanting, and
great were the sufferings of the stomach. The travellers lived on the
hope of a good supper at Toul; but despair was at its height when,
on arriving there, they found only a wretched inn, and nothing in it.
We saw some odd-looking folks there, which indemnified us a little for
spinach dressed in lamp-oil, and red asparagus fried with curdled milk.
Who would not have been amused to see the Malmaison gourmands seated at a
table so shockingly served!
In no record of history is there to be found a day passed in distress so
dreadful as that on which we arrived at Plombieres. On departing from
Toul we intended to breakfast at Nancy, for every stomach had been empty
for two days; but the civil and military authorities came out to meet us,
and prevented us from executing our plan. We continued our route,
wasting away, so that you might, see us growing thinner every moment.
To complete our misfortune, the dormouse, which seemed to have taken a
fancy to embark on the Moselle for Metz, barely escaped an overturn.
But at Plombieres we have been well compensated for this unlucky journey,
for on our arrival we were received with all kinds of rejoicings. The
town was illuminated, the cannon fired, and the faces of handsome women
at all the windows give us reason to hope that we shall bear our absence
from Malmaison with the less regret.
With the exception of some anecdotes, which we reserve for chit-chat on
our return, you have here a correct account of our journey, which we, the
undersigned, hereby certify.
JOSEPHINE BONAPARTE.
BEAUHARNAIS-LAPALLETTE.
HORTENSE BEAUHARNAIS.
RAPP.
BONAPARTE, mere.
The company ask pardon for the blots.
21st Messidor.
It is requested that the person who receives this journal will show it to
all who take an interest in the fair travellers.
This journey to Plombieres was preceded by a scene which I should abstain
from describing if I had not undertaken to relate the truth respecting
the family of the First Consul. Two or three days before her departure
Madame Bonaparte sent for me. I obeyed the summons, and found her in
tears. "What a man-what a man is that Lucien!" she exclaimed in accents
of grief. "If you knew, my friend, the shameful proposals he has dared
to make to me! 'You are going to the waters,' said he; 'you must get a
child by some other person since you cannot have one by him.' Imagine
the indignation with which I received such advice. 'Well,' he continued,
'if you do not wish it, or cannot help it, Bonaparte must get a child by
another woman, and you must adopt it, for it is necessary to secure an
hereditary successor. It is for your interest; you must know that.'--
'What, sir!' I replied, 'do you imagine the nation will suffer a bastard
to govern it? Lucien! Lucien! you would ruin your brother! This is
dreadful! Wretched should I be, were any one to suppose me capable of
listening, without horror, to your infamous proposal! Your ideas are
poisonous; your language horrible!'--'Well, Madame,' retorted he, 'all I
can say to that is, that I am really sorry for you!'"
The amiable Josephine was sobbing whilst she described this scene to me,
and I was not insensible to the indignation which she felt. The truth
is, that at that period Lucien, though constantly affecting to despise
power for himself, was incessantly labouring to concentrate it in the
hands of his brother; and he considered three things necessary to the
success of his views, namely, hereditary succession, divorce, and the
Imperial Government.
Lucien had a delightful house near Neuilly. Some days before the
deplorable scene which I have related he invited Bonaparte and all the
inmates at Malmaison to witness a theatrical representation. 'Alzire'
was the piece performed. Elise played Alzire, and Lucien, Zamore. The
warmth of their declarations, the energetic expression of their gestures,
the too faithful nudity of costume, disgusted most of the spectators, and
Bonaparte more than any other. When the play was over he was quite
indignant. "It is a scandal," he said to me in an angry tone; "I ought
not to suffer such indecencies--I will give Lucien to understand that I
will have no more of it." When his brother had resumed his own dress,
and came into the salon, he addressed him publicly, and gave him to
understand that he must for the future desist from such representations.
When we returned to Malmaison; he again spoke of what had passed with
dissatisfaction. "What!" said he, "when I am endeavouring to restore
purity of manners, my brother and sister must needs exhibit themselves
upon the boards almost in a state of nudity! It is an insult!"
Lucien had a strong predilection for theatrical exhibitions, to which he
attached great importance. The fact is, he declaimed in a superior
style, and might have competed with the best professional actors. It was
said that the turban of Orosmane, the costume of America, the Roman toga,
or the robe of the high priest of Jerusalem, all became him equally well;
and I believe that this was the exact truth. Theatrical representations
were not confined to Neuilly. We had our theatre and our company of
actors at Malmaison; but there everything was conducted with the greatest
decorum; and now that I have got behind the scenes, I will not quit them
until I have let the reader into the secrets of our drama.
By the direction of the First Consul a very pretty little theatre was
built at Malmaison. Our usual actors were Eugene BEAUHARNAIS, Hortense,
Madame Murat, Lauriston, M. Didelot, one of the prefects of the Palace,
some other individuals belonging to the First Consul's household, and
myself. Freed from the cares of government, which we confined as much as
possible to the Tuileries, we were a very happy colony at Malmaison; and,
besides, we were young, and what is there to which youth does not add
charms? The pieces which the First Consul most liked to see us perform
were, 'Le Barbier de Seville' and 'Defiance et Malice'. In Le Barbier
Lauriston played the part of Count Almaviva; Hortense, Rosins; Eugene,
Basil; Didelot, Figaro; I, Bartholo; and Isabey, l'Aveille. Our other
stock pieces were, Projets de Mariage, La Gageltre, the Dapit Anloureux,
in which I played the part of the valet; and L'Impromptu de Campagne, in
which I enacted the Baron, having for my Baroness the young and handsome
Caroline Murat.
Hortense's acting was perfection, Caroline was middling, Eugene played
very well, Lauriston was rather heavy, Didelot passable, and I may
venture to assert, without vanity, that I was not quite the worst of the
company. If we were not good actors it was not for want of good
instruction and good advice. Talma and Michot came to direct us, and
made us rehearse before them, sometimes altogether and sometimes
separately. How many lessons have I received from Michot whilst walking
in the beautiful park of Malmaison! And may I be excused for saying,
that I now experience pleasure in looking back upon these trifles, which
are matters of importance when one is young, and which contrasted so
singularly with the great theatre on which we did not represent
fictitious characters? We had, to adopt theatrical language, a good
supply of property. Bonaparte presented each of us with a collection of
dramas very well bound; and, as the patron of the company, he provided us
with rich and elegant dresses.
--[While Bourrienne, belonging to the Malmaison company, considered
that the acting at Neuilly was indecent, Lucien, who refused to act at
Malmaison, naturally thought the Malmaison troupe was dull. "Hortense
and Caroline filled the principal parts. They were very commonplace. In
this they followed the unfortunate Marie Antoinette and her companions.
Louis XVI., not naturally polite, when seeing them act, had said that it
was royally badly acted" (see Madame Campan's Life of Marie Antoinette,
tome i. p. 299). "The First Consul said of his troupe that it was
sovereignly badly acted". . . Murat, Lannes, and even Caroline ranted.
Elisa, who, having been educated at Saint Cyr, spoke purely and without
accent, refused to act. Janot acted well the drunken parts, and even the
others he undertook. The rest were decidedly bad. Worse than bad--
ridiculous" (Iung's Lucien's, tome ii. p. 256). Rival actors are not
fair critics. Let us hear Madame Junot (tome ii. p. 103). "The
cleverest of our company was M. de Bourrienne. He played the more
dignified characters in real perfection, and his talent was the more
pleasing as it was not the result of study, but of a perfect
comprehension of his part." And she goes on to say that even the best
professional actors might have learnt from him in some parts. The
audience was not a pleasant one to face. It was the First Consul's habit
to invite forty persons to dinner, and a hundred and fifty for the
evening, and consequently to hear, criticise, and banter us without
mercy" (Memoirs of Duchesse d'Abrantes, tome ii. p. 108). ]--
Bonaparte took great pleasure in our performances. He liked to see plays
acted by persons with whom he was familiar. Sometimes he complimented us
on our exertions. Although I was as much amused with the thing as
others, I was more than once obliged to remind him that my occupations
left me but little time to learn my parts. Then he would assume his
coaxing manner and say, "Come, do not vex me! You have such a memory!
You know that it amuses me. You see that these performances render
Malmaison gay and animated; Josephine takes much pleasure in them. Rise
earlier in the morning.--In fact, I sleep too much; is not that the
cafe--Come, Bourrienne, do oblige me. You make me laugh so heartily!
Do not deprive me of this pleasure. I have not over much amusement, as
you well know."--"All, truly! I would not deprive you of any pleasure.
I am delighted to be able to contribute to your amusement." After a
conversation of this sort I could not do less than set about studying my
part.
At this period, during summer, I had half the Sunday to myself. I was,
however, obliged to devote a portion of this precious leisure to pleasing
Bonaparte by studying a new part as a surprise for him. Occasionally,
however, I passed the time at Ruel. I recollect that one day, when I had
hurried there from Malmaison, I lost a beautiful watch made by Breguet.
It was four o'clock in the afternoon, and the road was that day thronged
with people. I made my loss publicly known by means of the crier of
Ruel. An hour after, as I was sitting down to table, a young lad
belonging to the village brought me my watch. He had found it on the
high road in a wheel rut. I was pleased with the probity of this young
man, and rewarded both him and his father, who accompanied him. I
reiterated the circumstance the same evening to the First Consul, who was
so struck with this instance of honesty that he directed me to procure
information respecting the young man and his family. I learned that they
were honest peasants. Bonaparte gave employment to three brothers of
this family; and, what was most difficult to persuade him to, he exempted
the young man who brought me the watch from the conscription.
When a fact of this nature reached Bonaparte's ear it was seldom that he
did not give the principal actor in it some proof of his satisfaction.
Two qualities predominated in his character--kindness and impatience.
Impatience, when he was under its influence, got the better of him; it
was then impossible for him to control himself. I had a remarkable proof
of it about this very period.
Canova having arrived in Paris came to St. Cloud to model the figure of
the First Consul, of whom he was about to make a colossal statue. This
great artist came often, in the hope of getting his model to stand in the
proper attitude; but Bonaparte was so tired, disgusted, and fretted by
the process, that he very seldom put himself in the required attitude,
and then only for a short time. Bonaparte notwithstanding had the
highest regard for Canova. Whenever he was announced the First Consul
sent me to keep him company until he was at leisure to give him a
sitting; but he would shrug up his shoulders and say, "More modeling!
Good Heavens, how vexatious!" Canova expressed great displeasure at not
being able to study his model as he wished to do, and the little anxiety
of Bonaparte on the subject damped the ardour of his imagination.
Everybody agrees in saying that he has not succeeded in the work, and I
have explained the reason. The Duke of Wellington afterwards possessed
this colossal statue, which was about twice his own height.