The year 1804, which was so full of glory for the Emperor, was also the
year which brought him more care and anxiety than all others, except
those of 1814 and 1815. It is not my province to pass judgment on such
grave events, nor to determine what part was taken in them by the
Emperor, or by those who surrounded and counseled him, for it is my
object to relate only what I saw and heard. On the 21st of March of that
year I entered the Emperor's room at an early hour, and found him awake,
leaning on his elbow. He seemed gloomy and tired; but when I entered he
sat up, passed his hand many times over his forehead, and said to me,
"Constant, I have a headache." Then, throwing off the covering, he
added, "I have slept very badly." He seemed extremely preoccupied and
absorbed, and his appearance evinced melancholy and suffering to such a
degree that I was surprised and somewhat anxious. While I was dressing
him he did not utter a word, which never occurred except when something
agitated or worried him. During this time only Roustan and I were
present. His toilet being completed, just as I was handing him his
snuff-box, handkerchief, and little bonbon box, the door opened suddenly,
and the First Consul's wife entered, in her morning negligee, much
agitated, with traces of tears on her cheeks. Her sudden appearance
astonished, and even alarmed, Roustan and myself; for it was only an
extraordinary circumstance which could have induced Madame Bonaparte to
leave her room in this costume, before taking all necessary precautions
to conceal the damage which the want of the accessories of the toilet did
her. She entered, or rather rushed, into the room, crying, "The Duke
d'Enghien is dead! Ah, my friend! what have you done?" Then she fell
sobbing into the arms of the First Consul, who became pale as death, and
said with extraordinary emotion, "The miserable wretches have been too
quick!" He then left the room, supporting Madame Bonaparte, who could
hardly walk, and was still weeping. The news of the prince's death
spread consternation in the chateau; and the First Consul remarked this
universal grief, but reprimanded no one for it. The fact is, the
greatest chagrin which this mournful catastrophe caused his servants,
most of whom were attached to him by affection even more than by duty,
came from the belief that it would inevitably tarnish the glory and
destroy the peace of mind of their master.
The First Consul probably understood our feelings perfectly; but however
that may be, I have here related all that I myself saw and know of this
deplorable event. I do not pretend to know what passed in the cabinet
meeting, but the emotion of the First Consul appeared to me sincere and
unaffected; and he remained sad and silent for many days, speaking very
little at his toilet, and saying only what was necessary.
During this month and the following I noticed constantly passing,
repassing, and holding frequent interviews with the First Consul, many
persons whom I was told were members of the council of state, tribunes,
or senators. For a long time the army and a great number of citizens,
who idolized the hero of Italy and Egypt, had manifested openly their
desire to see him wear a title worthy of his renown and the greatness of
France. It was well known, also, that he alone performed all the duties
of government, and that his nominal colleagues were really his
subordinates. It was thought proper, therefore, that he should become
supreme head of the state in name, as he already was in fact. I have
often since his fall heard his Majesty called an usurper: but the only
effect of this on me is to provoke a smile of pity; for if the Emperor
usurped the throne, he had more accomplices than all the tyrants of
tragedy and melodrama combined, for three-fourths of the French people
were in the conspiracy. As is well known, it was on May 18 that the
Empire was proclaimed, and the First Consul (whom I shall henceforward
call the Emperor) received at Saint-Cloud the Senate, led by Consul
Cambaceres, who became, a few hours later, arch-chancellor of the Empire;
and it was by him that the Emperor heard himself for the first time
saluted with the title of Sire. After this audience the Senate went to
present its homage to the Empress Josephine. The rest of the day was
passed in receptions, presentations, interviews, and congratulations;
everybody in the chateau was drunk with joy; each one felt that he had
been suddenly promoted in rank, so they embraced each other, exchanged
compliments, and confided to each other hopes and plans for the future.
There was no subaltern too humble to be inspired with ambition; in a
word, the antechamber, saving the difference of persons, furnished an
exact repetition of what passed in the saloon. Nothing could be more
amusing than the embarrassment of the whole service when it was necessary
to reply to his Majesty's questions. They would begin with a mistake,
then would try again, and do worse, saying ten times in the same minute,
"Sire, general, your Majesty, citizen, First Consul." The next morning
on entering as usual the First Consul's room, to his customary questions,
"What o'clock is it? What is the weather?" I replied, "Sire, seven
o'clock; fine weather." As I approached his bed, he seized me by the
ear, and slapped me on the cheek, calling me "Monsieur le drole," which
was his favorite expression when especially pleased with me. His Majesty
had kept awake, and worked late into the night, and I found him serious
and preoccupied, but well satisfied. How different this awakening to
that of the 21st of March preceding! On this day his Majesty went to
hold his first grand levee at the Tuileries, where all the civil and
military authorities were presented to him. The brothers and sisters of
the Emperor were made princes and princesses, with the exception of
Lucien, who had quarreled with his Majesty on the occasion of his
marriage with Madame Jouberton. Eighteen generals were raised to the
dignity of marshals of the empire. Dating from this day, everything
around their Majesties took on the appearance of a court and royal power.
Much has been said of the awkwardness of the first courtiers, not yet
accustomed to the new duties imposed upon them, and to the ceremonials of
etiquette; and there was, indeed, in the beginning some embarrassment
experienced by those in the immediate service of the Emperor, as I have
said above; but this lasted only a short while, and the chamberlains and
high officials adapted themselves to the new regime almost as quickly as
the valets de chambre. They had also as instructors many personages of
the old court, who had been struck out of the list of emigres by the
kindness of the Emperor, and now solicited earnestly for themselves and
their wives employment in the new imperial court.
His majesty had no liking for the anniversaries of the Republic; some of
which had always seemed to him odious and cruel, others ridiculous; and I
have heard him express his indignation that they should have dared to
make an annual festival of the anniversary of the 21st of January, and
smile with pity at the recollection of what he called the masquerades of
the theo-philanthropists, who, he said, "would have no Jesus Christ, and
yet made saints of Fenelon and Las Casas--Catholic prelates."
Bourrienne, in his Memoirs, says that it was not one of the least
singular things in the policy of Napoleon, that during the first years of
his reign he retained the festival of 14th July. I will observe, as to
this, that if his Majesty used this annual solemnity to appear in pomp in
public, on the other hand, he so changed the object of the festival that
it would have been difficult to recognize in it the anniversary of the
taking of the Bastile and of the First Federation. I do not think that
there was one word in allusion to these two events in the whole ceremony;
and to confuse still further the recollections of the Republicans, the
Emperor ordered that the festival should be celebrated on the 15th,
because that was Sunday, and thus there would result no loss of time to
the inhabitants of the capital. Besides, there was no allusion made to
honoring the, captors of the Bastile, this being made simply the occasion
of a grand distribution of the cross of the Legion of Honor.
It was the first occasion on which their Majesties showed themselves to
the people in all the paraphernalia of power.
The cortege crossed the grand alley of the Tuileries on their way to the
Hotel des Invalides, the church of which (changed during the Revolution
into a Temple of Mars) had been restored by the Emperor to the Catholic
worship, and was used for the magnificent ceremonies of the day. This
was also the first time that the Emperor had made use of the privilege of
passing in a carriage through the garden of the Tuileries. His cortege
was superb, that of the Empress Josephine not less brilliant; and the
intoxication of the people reached such a height, that it was beyond
expression. By order of the Emperor I mingled in the crowd, to learn in
what spirit the populace would take part in the festival; and I heard not
a murmur, so great was the enthusiasm of all classes for his Majesty at
that time, whatever may have been said since. The Emperor and Empress
were received at the door of the Hotel des Invalides by the governor and
by Count de Segur, grand-master of ceremonies, and at the entrance of the
church by Cardinal du Belloy at the head of a numerous clergy. After the
mass, de Lacepede, grand chancellor of the Legion of Honor, delivered a
speech, followed by the roll-call of the grand officers of the Legion,
after which the Emperor took his seat, and putting on his hat, repeated
in a firm voice the formula of the oath, at the end of which all the
members of the Legion cried, "Je le jure!" (I swear it); and immediately
shouts of "Vive l'Empereur," repeated a thousand times, were heard in the
church and outside.
A singular circumstance added still more to the interest which the
ceremony excited. While the chevaliers of the new order were passing one
by one before the Emperor, who welcomed them, a man of the people,
wearing a roundabout, placed himself on the steps of the throne. His
Majesty showed some astonishment, and paused an instant, whereupon the
man, being interrogated, showed his warrant. The Emperor at once and
with great cordiality bade him advance, and gave him the decoration,
accompanied by a sharp accolade. The cortege, on its return, followed
the same route, passing again through the garden of the Tuileries.
On the 18th of July, three days after this ceremony, the Emperor set out
from Saint-Cloud for the camp of Boulogne. Believing that his Majesty
would be willing to dispense with my presence for a few days, and as it
was a number of years since I had seen my family, I felt a natural desire
to meet them again, and to review with my parents the singular
circumstances through which I had passed since I had left them.
I should have experienced, I confess, great joy in talking with them of
my present situation and my hopes; and I felt the need of freely
expressing myself, and enjoying the confidences of domestic privacy, in
compensation for the repression and constraint which my position imposed
on me. Therefore I requested permission to pass eight days at Perueltz.
It was readily granted, and I lost no time in setting out; but my
astonishment may be imagined when, the very day after my arrival, a
courier brought me a letter from the Count de Remusat, ordering me to
rejoin the Emperor immediately, adding that his Majesty needed me, and I
should have no other thought than that of returning without delay. In
spite of the disappointment induced by such orders, I felt flattered
nevertheless at having become so necessary to the great man who had
deigned to admit me into his service, and at once bade adieu to my
family. His Majesty had hardly reached Boulogne, when he set out again
immediately on a tour of several days in the departments of the north.
I was at Boulogne before his return, and had organized his Majesty's
service so that he found everything ready on his arrival; but this did
not prevent his saying to me that I had been absent a long time.
While I am on this subject, I will narrate here, although some years in
advance, one or two circumstances which will give the reader a better
idea of the rigorous confinement to which I was subjected. I had
contracted, in consequence of the fatigues of my continual journeyings in
the suite of the Emperor, a disease of the bladder, from which I suffered
horribly. For a long time I combated the disease with patience and
dieting; but at last, the pain having become entirely unbearable, in 1808
I requested of his Majesty a month's leave of absence in order to be
cured, Dr. Boyer having told me that a month was the shortest time
absolutely necessary for my restoration, and that without it my disease
would become incurable. I went to Saint-Cloud to visit my wife's family,
where Yvan, surgeon of the Emperor, came to see me every day. Hardly a
week had passed, when he told me that his Majesty thought I ought to be
entirely well, and wished me to resume my duties. This wish was
equivalent to an order; it was thus I understood it, and returned to the
Emperor, who seeing me pale, and suffering excruciatingly, deigned to say
to me many kind things, without, however, mentioning a new leave of
absence. These two were my only absences for sixteen years; therefore,
on my return from Moscow, and during the campaign of France, my disease
having reached its height, I quitted the Emperor at Fontainebleau,
because it was impossible for me, in spite of all my attachment to so
kind a master, and all the gratitude which I felt towards him, to perform
my duties longer. Even after this separation, which was exceedingly
painful to me, a year hardly sufficed to cure me, and then not entirely.
But I shall take occasion farther on to speak of this melancholy event.
I now return to the recital of facts, which prove that I could, with more
reason than many others, believe myself a person of great importance,
since my humble services seemed to be indispensable to the master of
Europe, and many frequenters of the Tuileries would have had more
difficulty than I in proving their usefulness. Is there too much vanity
in what I have just said? and would not the chamberlains have a right to
be vexed by it? I am not concerned with that, so I continue my
narrative. The Emperor was tenacious of old habits; he preferred, as we
have already seen, being served by me in preference to all others;
nevertheless, it is my duty to state that his servants were all full of
zeal and devotion, though I had been with him longest, and had never left
him. One day the Emperor asked for tea in the middle of the day. M.
Seneschal was on duty, consequently made the tea, and presented it to his
Majesty, who declared it to be detestable, and had me summoned. The
Emperor complained to me that they were trying to poison him (this was
his expression when he found a bad taste in anything); so going into the
kitchen, I poured out of the same teapot, a cup, which I prepared and
carried to his Majesty, with two silver-gilt spoons as usual, one to
taste the tea in the presence of the Emperor, and the other for him.
This time he said the tea was excellent, and complimented me on it with a
kind familiarity which he deigned at times to use towards his servants.
On returning the cup to me, he pulled my ears, and said, "You must teach
them how to make tea; they know nothing about it." De Bourrienne, whose
excellent Memoirs I have read with the greatest pleasure, says somewhere,
that the Emperor in his moments of good humor pinched the tip of the ears
of his familiars. I myself think that he pinched the whole ear, often,
indeed, both ears at once, and with the hand of a master. He also says
in these same Memoirs, that the Emperor gave little friendly slaps with
two fingers, in which De Bourrienne is very moderate, for I can bear
witness in regard to this matter, that his Majesty, although his hand was
not large, bestowed his favors much more broadly; but this kind of
caress, as well as the former, was given and received as a mark of
particular favor, and the recipients were far from complaining then. I
have heard more than one dignitary say with pride, like the sergeant in
the comedy,--
"Sir, feel there, the blow upon my cheek is still warm."
In his private apartments the Emperor was almost always cheerful and
approachable, conversing freely with the persons in his service,
questioning them about their families, their affairs, and even as to
their pleasures. His toilet finished, his appearance suddenly changed;
he became grave and thoughtful, and assumed again the bearing of an
emperor. It has been said, that he often beat the people of his
household, which statement is untrue. I saw him once only give himself
up to a transport of this kind; and certainly the circumstances which
caused it, and the reparation which followed, ought to render it, if not
excusable, at least easily understood: This is the incident, of which I
was a witness, and which took place in the suburbs of Vienna, the day
after the death of Marshal Lannes. The Emperor was profoundly affected,
and had not spoken a word during his toilet. As soon as he was dressed
he asked for his horse; and as an unlucky chance would have it, Jardin,
superintendent of the stables, could not be found when the horse was
saddled, and the groom did not put on him his regular bridle, in
consequence of which his Majesty had no sooner mounted, than the animal
plunged, reared, and the rider fell heavily to the ground. Jardin
arrived just as the Emperor was rising from the ground, beside himself
with anger; and in his first transport of rage, he gave Jardin a blow
with his riding-whip directly across his face. Jardin withdrew,
overwhelmed by such cruel treatment, so unusual in his Majesty; and: few
hours after, Caulaincourt, grand equerry, finding himself alone with his
Majesty, described to him Jardin's grief and mortification. The Emperor
expressed deep regret for his anger, sent for Jardin, and spoke to him
with a kindness which effaced the remembrance of his ill treatment, and
sent him a few days afterward three thousand francs. I have been told
that a similar incident happened to Vigogne, senior, in Egypt. But
although this may be true, two such instances alone in the entire life of
the Emperor, which was passed amid surroundings so well calculated to
make a man, even though naturally most amiable, depart from his usual
character, should not be sufficient to draw down upon Napoleon the odious
reproach of beating cruelly those in his service.