the palace had me called. After giving me some orders relative to the
voyage, he said to me that the Emperor wished to know what was the sum of
money I had in charge for him. I immediately gave an account to the
grand marshal; and he saw that the sum total was about three hundred
thousand francs, including the gold in a bog which Baron Fain had sent
me, since he would not be on the journey. The grand marshal said he
would present the account to the Emperor. An hour after he again
summoned me, and said that his Majesty thought he had one hundred
thousand francs more. I replied that I had in my possession one hundred
thousand francs, which the Emperor had presented to me, telling me to
bury it in my garden; in fact, I related to him all the particulars I
have described above, and begged him to inquire of the Emperor if it was
these one hundred thousand francs to which his Majesty referred. Count
Bertrand promised to do this, and I then made the great mistake of not
addressing myself directly to the Emperor. Nothing would have been
easier in my position; and I had often found that it was always better,
when possible, to go directly to him than to have recourse to any
intermediate person whatever. It would have been much better for me to
act thus, since, if the Emperor had demanded the one hundred thousand
francs which he had given me, which, after all, was hardly possible, I
was more than disposed to restore them to him without a moment's
hesitation. My astonishment may be imagined when the grand marshal
reported to me that the Emperor did not remember having given me the sum
in question. I instantly became crimson with anger. What! the
Emperor had allowed it to be believed by Count Bertrand that I had
attempted--I, his faithful servant--to appropriate a sum which he had
given me under all the circumstances I have related! I was beside
myself at this thought. I left in a state impossible to be described,
assuring the grand marshal that in an hour at most I would restore to
him the fatal present of his Majesty.
While rapidly crossing the court of the palace I met M. de Turenne, to
whom I related all that had occurred. "That does not astonish me," he
replied, "and we will see many other similar cases." A prey to a sort of
moral fever, my head distracted, my heart oppressed, I sought Denis, the
wardrobe boy, of whom I have spoken previously; I found him most
fortunately, and hastened with him to my country place; and God is my
witness that the loss of the hundred thousand francs was not the cause of
my distress, and I hardly thought of it. As on the first occasion, we
passed along the side of the woods in order not to be seen; and began to
dig up the earth to find the money we had placed there; and in the
eagerness with which I hunted for this miserable gold, in order to
restore it to the grand marshal, I dug up more than was necessary. I
cannot describe my despair when I saw that we had found nothing; I
thought that some one had seen and followed us, in fact, that I had been
robbed. This was a more crushing blow to me than the first, and I
foresaw the consequences with horror; what would be said, what would be
thought, of me? Would my word be taken? The grand marshal, already
prejudiced by the inexplicable reply of the Emperor, would consider me a
person totally devoid of honor. I was overwhelmed by these fatal
thoughts when Denis suggested to me that we had not dug in the right
spot, and had made a mistake of some feet. I eagerly embraced this ray
of hope; we began again to dig up the earth with more eagerness than
ever, and I can say without exaggeration that my joy bordered almost on
delirium when I saw the first of the bags. We drew out in succession all
the five; and with the assistance of Denis I carried them to the palace,
and placed them without delay in the hands of the grand marshal, with the
keys of the Emperor's trunk, and the casket which M. Fain had committed
to me. I said to him as I left, "Monseigneur, be good enough to say to
his Majesty that I will not accompany him."--"I will tell him."
After this cold and laconic reply I immediately left the palace, and was
soon after in Rue du Coq-Gris, with M. Clement, a bailiff, who for a long
time had been charged with my small affairs, and had given the necessary
attention to my farm during the long absences which the journeys and
campaigns of the Emperor necessitated. Then I gave full vent to my
despair. I was choking with rage as I remembered that my honesty had
been suspected,--I, who for fourteen years had served the Emperor with a
disinterestedness which was so scrupulous, and even carried to such a
point that many persons called it silliness; I, who had never demanded
anything of the Emperor, either for myself or my people! My brain reeled
as I tried to explain to myself how the Emperor, who knew all this so
well, could have allowed me to appear to a third person as a dishonorable
man; the more I thought of it the more extreme became my irritation, and
yet it was not possible to find the shadow of a motive for the blow aimed
at me. My despair was at its height, when M. Hubert, ordinary valet de
chambre of the Emperor, came to tell me that his Majesty would give me
all I wished if I would follow him, and that three hundred thousand
francs would be immediately handed me. In these circumstances, I ask of
all honest men, what could I do, and what would they have done in my
place? I replied that when I had resolved to consecrate my whole life to
the service of the unfortunate Emperor, it was not from views of vile
interest; but I was in despair at the thought that he should have made me
appear before Count Bertrand as an impostor and a dishonest man. Ah!
how happy would it then have been for me had the Emperor never thought of
giving me those accursed one hundred thousand francs! These ideas
tortured me. Ah! if I could only have taken twenty-four hours for
reflection, however just might have been my resentment, how gladly would
I have sacrificed it! I would have thought of the Emperor alone, and
would have followed him; but a sad and inexplicable fatality had not
decreed this.
This took place on the 19th of April, the most miserable day of my life.
What an evening, what a night I passed! What was my grief on learning
the next day that the Emperor had departed at noon, after making his
adieux to his guard! When I awoke that morning, all my resentment had
been appeased in thinking of the Emperor. Twenty times I wished to
return to the palace; twenty times after his departure I wished to take
post horses and overtake him; but I was deterred by the offer he had made
me through M. Hubert. "Perhaps," I thought, "he will think it is the
money which influences me; this will, doubtless, be said by those around
him; and what an opinion he will have of me!" In this cruel perplexity I
did not dare to decide. I suffered all that it is possible for a man to
suffer; and, at times, that which was only too true seemed like a dream
to me, so impossible did it seem that I could be where the Emperor was
not. Everything in this terrible situation contributed to aggravate my
distress. I knew the Emperor well enough to be aware that even had I
returned to him then, he would never have forgotten that I had wished to
leave him; I felt that I had not the strength to bear this reproach from
his lips. On the other side, the physical suffering caused by my disease
had greatly increased, and I was compelled to remain in bed a long while.
I could, indeed, have triumphed over these physical sufferings however
cruel they might have been, but in the frightful complications of my
position I was reduced to a condition of idiocy; I saw nothing of what
was around me; I heard nothing of what was said; and after this statement
the reader will surely not expect that I shall have anything to say about
the farewell of the Emperor to his old and faithful guard, an account of
which, moreover, has been often enough published for the facts to be well
known concerning this event, which, besides, took place in public. Here
my Memoirs might well close; but the reader, I well believe, cannot
refuse me his attention a few moments longer, that I may recall some
facts which I have a right to explain, and to relate some incidents
concerning the return from the Island of Elba. I, therefore, now
continue my remarks on the first of these heads, and the second will be
the subject of the next chapter.
The Emperor had then already started; and as for myself, shut up alone,
my country house became henceforth a sad residence to me. I held no
communication with any one whatever, read no news, and sought to learn
none. At the end of a short time I received a visit from one of my
friends from Paris, who said to me that the journals spoke of my conduct
without understanding it, and that they condemned it severely. He added
that it was M. de Turenne who had sent to the editors the note in which
I had been so heavily censured. I must say that I did not believe this;
I knew M. de Turenne too well to think him capable of a proceeding so
dishonorable, inasmuch as I had frankly explained everything to him, when
he made the answer I gave above. But however the evil came, it was
nevertheless done; and by the incredible complications of my position I
found myself compelled to keep silence. Nothing certainly would have
been easier than to repel the calumny by an exact rehearsal of the facts;
but should I justify myself in this manner by, so to speak, accusing the
Emperor at a moment especially when the Emperor's enemies manifested much
bitterness? When I saw such a great man made a mark for the shafts of
calumny, I, who was so contemptible and insignificant among the crowd,
could surely allow a few of these envenomed shafts to fall on me. To-day
the time has come to tell the truth, and I have done so without
restriction; not to excuse myself, for on the contrary I blame myself for
not having completely sacrificed myself, and for not having accompanied
the Emperor to the Island of Elba regardless of what might have been
said. Nevertheless, I may be allowed to say in my own defense, that in
this combination of physical and mental sufferings which overwhelmed me
all at once, a person must be very sure of infallibility himself to
condemn completely this sensitiveness so natural in a man of honor when
accused of a fraudulent transaction. This, then, I said to myself, is
the recompense for all my care, for the endurance of so much suffering,
for unbounded devotion, and a refinement of feeling for which the Emperor
had often praised me, and for which he rendered me justice later, as will
be seen when I shall have occasion to speak of certain circumstances
occurring about the 20th of March of the following year.
But gratuitously, and even malevolently, interested motives have been
attributed to me for the decision I made to leave the Emperor. The
simplest common-sense, on the contrary, would suffice to see that, had I
allowed myself to be guided by my interests, everything would have
influenced me to accompany his Majesty. In fact, the chagrin which the
incident I have mentioned caused me, and the manner in which I was
completely overwhelmed by it, have injured my fortune more than any
determination to follow the Emperor could possibly have done. What could
I hope for in France, where I had no right to anything? Is it not,
besides, very evident to whoever would recall my position, which was one
of confidence near the Emperor, that, if I had been actuated by a love of
money, this position would have given me an opportunity to reap an
abundant harvest without injuring my reputation; but my disinterestedness
was so well known that, whatever may be said to the contrary, I can
assert that during the whole time my favor with the Emperor continued, I
on no occasion used it to render any other but unselfish services, and
often I refused to support a demand for the sole reason that the petition
had been accompanied by offers of money, which were often of very
considerable amount. Allow me to cite one example among many others of
the same nature. I received one day an offer of the sum of four hundred
thousand francs, which was made me by a lady of a very noble family, if I
would influence the Emperor to consider favorably a petition in which she
claimed indemnity for a piece of property belonging to her, on which the
port of Bayonne had been constructed. I had succeeded in obtaining
favorable answers to applications more difficult than this, but I refused
to agree to support her petition solely on account of the offer which had
been made to me; I would have been glad to oblige this lady, but only for
the pleasure of being obliging, and it was for this reason alone I
allowed myself to solicit of the Emperor the pardons which he nearly
always granted. Neither can it be said that I ever demanded of the
Emperor licenses for lottery drawings, or anything else of this kind, in
which, as is well known, a scandalous commerce is often made, and which,
no doubt, if I had demanded them of the Emperor he would have readily
granted.
The confidence in me which the Emperor had always shown was such that
even at Fontainebleau, when it had been decided that none of the ordinary
valets de chambre were to accompany him to the Island of Elba, the
Emperor left to my choice the selection of a young man to assist me in my
duties. I selected a boy of the apartments, whose upright character was
well known to me, and who was, moreover, the son of Madame Marchand, the
head nurse of the King of Rome. I spoke of him to the Emperor, who
accepted him; and I went immediately to inform M. Marchand, who received
the position most gratefully, and proved to me, by his thanks, how
delighted he would be to accompany us. I say us, for at this moment I
was very far from foreseeing the succession of fatal events which I have
faithfully narrated; and it may be seen afterwards, from the manner in
which M. Marchand expressed himself concerning me at the Tuileries during
the Hundred Days, that I had not bestowed my confidence unworthily.
CHAPTER XXIX.
I became a stranger to all the world after the departure of the Emperor
for the Island of Elba, and, filled with a deep sense of gratitude for
the kindness with which his Majesty had overwhelmed me during the
fourteen years I had passed in his service, thought incessantly of this
great man, and took pleasure in renewing in memory all the events, even
the most trivial, of my life with him. I thought it best suited my
former position to live in retirement, and passed my time most tranquilly
in the bosom of my family in the country-house belonging to me. At the
same time a fatal idea preoccupied my mind involuntarily; for I feared
that persons who were jealous of my former favor might succeed in
deceiving the Emperor as to my unalterable devotion to his person, and
strengthen in his mind the false opinion that they had for a time
succeeded in giving him of me. This opinion, although my conscience told
me that it was unjust, was not the less painful to me; but, as will soon
be seen, I was fortunate enough to obtain the certainty that my fears in
this respect were without foundation.
Although an entire stranger to politics, I had read with deep interest
the newspapers I received in my retreat, since the great political change
to which the name of the Restoration was given; and it seemed to me to
need only the simplest common-sense to see the marked difference which
existed between the government which had been overthrown and the new. In
all departments I saw a succession of titled men take the places of the
long list of distinguished men who had given under the Empire so many
proofs of merit and courage; but I was far from thinking, notwithstanding
the large number of discontented, that the fortunes of the Emperor and
the wishes of the army would ever restore him to that throne which he had
voluntarily abdicated in order that he might not be the cause of a civil
war in Dance. Therefore, it would be impossible to describe my
astonishment, and the multiplicity of varied feelings which agitated me,
when I received the first news of the landing of the Emperor on the coast
of Provence. I read with enthusiasm the admirable proclamation in which
he announced that his eagles would fly from steeple to steeple, and that
he himself would follow so closely in his triumphal march from the Bay of
Juan to Paris.
Here I must make a confession, which is, that only since I had left the
Emperor, had I fully comprehended the immensity of his greatness.
Attached to his service almost from the beginning of the Consulate, at a
time when I was still very young, he had grown, so to speak, without my
having perceived it, and I had above all seen in him, from the nature of
my duties, the excellent master rather than the great man; consequently,
in this instance the effects of distance were very different from what it
usually produces. It was with difficulty I could realize, and I am often
astonished to-day in recalling the frank candor with which I had dared to
defend to the Emperor what I knew to be the truth; his kindness, however,
seemed to encourage me in this, for often, instead of becoming irritated
by my vehemence, he said to me gently, with a benevolent smile, "Come,
come! M. Constant, don't excite yourself." Adorable kindness in a man
of such elevated rank! Ah, well I this was the only impression it made
on me in the privacy of his chamber, but since then I have learned to
estimate it at its true value.
On learning that the Emperor was to be restored to us, my first impulse
was to repair at once to the palace, that I might be there on his
arrival; but more mature reflection and the advice of my family made me
realize that it would be more suitable for me to await his orders, in
case he wished to recall me to my former service. I congratulated myself
on deciding to take the latter course, since I had the happiness to learn
that his Majesty had been kind enough to express his approval of my
former conduct. I learned from most reliable authority, that he had
hardly arrived at the Tuileries, when he condescended to inquire of M.
Eible, then concierge of the palace, "Well, what is Constant doing? How
is he succeeding? Where is he?"--"Sire, he is at his country-place,
which he has not left."--"Ah, very good. He is happy raising his
cabbages." I learned also that, during the first days of the Emperor's
return, his Majesty had been investigating the list of pensions, and had
been good enough to make a note that mine should be increased. Finally,
I experienced an intense satisfaction of another kind, no doubt, but none
the less sincere in the certainty of not being considered an ingrate.
I have stated that I had been fortunate enough to procure a position for
M. Marchand with the Emperor; and this is what was related to me by an
eye-witness. M. Marchand, in the beginning of the Hundred Days, happened
to be in one of the saloons of the palace of the Tuileries, where several
persons were assembled, and some of them were expressing themselves most
unkindly in regard to me. My successor with the Emperor interrupted them
brusquely, saying that there was not a word of truth in the calumnies
which were asserted of me; and added that, while I held the position, I
had uniformly been most obliging to all persons of the household who had
addressed themselves to me, and had done no injury to any one. In this
respect I can affirm that M. Marchand told only the truth; but I was none
the less deeply grateful to him for so honorably defending me, especially
in my absence.
Not being in Paris on the 20th of March, 1815, as we have just seen, I
could have nothing to say of the circumstances of this memorable epoch,
had I not collected from some of my friends particulars of what occurred
on the night following the re-entrance of the Emperor into the palace,
once again become Imperial; and it may be imagined how eager I was to
know everything relating to the great man whom we regarded at this moment
as the savior of France.
I will begin by repeating exactly the account which was given me by one
of my friends, a brave and excellent man, at that time sergeant in the
National Guard of Paris, who happened to be on duty at the Tuileries
exactly on the 20th of March. "At noon," he said, "three companies of
National Guards entered the court of the Tuileries, to occupy all the
interior and exterior posts of the palace. I belonged to one of these
companies, which formed a part of the fourth legion. My comrades and I
were struck with the inexpressible sadness produced by the sight of an
abandoned palace. Everything, in fact, was deserted. Only a few men
were seen here and there in the livery of the king, occupied in taking
down and removing portraits of the various members of the Bourbon family.
Outside could be heard the clamorous shouts of a frantic mob, who climbed
on the gates, tried to scale them, and pressed against them with such
force that at last they bent in several places so far that it was feared
they would be thrown down. This multitude of people presented a
frightful spectacle, and seemed as if determined to pillage the palace.
"Hardly a quarter of an hour after we entered the interior court an
accident occurred which, though not serious in itself, threw
consternation into our ranks, as well as among those who were pressing
against the grating of the Carrousel. We saw flames issuing from the
chimney of the King's apartments, which had been accidentally set on fire
by a quantity of papers which had just been burned therein. This
accident gave rise to most sinister conjectures, and soon the rumor
spread that the Tuileries had been undermined ready for an explosion
before the departure of Louis XVIII. A patrol was immediately formed of
fifteen men of the National Guard, commanded by a sergeant; they explored
the chateau most thoroughly, visited each apartment, descended into the
cellars, and assured themselves that there was nowhere the slightest
indication of danger.
"Reassured on this point, we were nevertheless not without anxiety. In
returning to our posts we had heard numerous groups shouting, 'Vive le
Roi! Vivent les Bourbons!' and we soon had proofs of the exasperation
and fury of a part of the people against Napoleon; for we witnessed the
arrival in our midst, in a most pitiable condition, of a superior officer
who had imprudently donned too soon the tricolored cockade, and
consequently had been pursued by the mob from the Rue Saint-Denis. We
took him under our protection, and made him enter the interior of the
palace, as he was almost exhausted. At this moment we received orders to
force the people to withdraw, as they had become still more determined to
scale the gates; and in order to accomplish this we were compelled to
have recourse to arms.
"We had occupied the post at the Tuileries an hour at most when General
Excelmans, who had received the chief command of the guard at the
chateau, gave orders to raise the tricolored banner over the middle
pavilion.
"The reappearance of the national colors excited among us all emotions of
the most intense satisfaction; and immediately the populace substituted
the cry of 'Vive l'Empereur' for that of 'Vive le Roi,' and nothing else
was heard the whole day. As for us, when we were ordered to don the
tricolored cockade it was a very easy performance, as a large number of
the guard had preserved their old ones, which they had simply covered
with a piece of white cambric. We were ordered to stack arms in front of
the arch of triumph, and nothing extraordinary occurred until six
o'clock; then lights began to shine on the expected route of the Emperor,
and a large number of officers on half pay collected near the pavilion of
Flora; and I learned from one of them, M. Saunier, a decorated officer,
that it was on that side the Emperor would re-enter the palace of the
Tuileries. I repaired there in all haste; and as I was hurrying to place
myself on his route, I was so fortunate as to meet a commanding officer,
who assigned me to duty at the very door of Napoleon's apartment, and to
this circumstance I owe the fact that I witnessed what now remains to be
related.
"I had for some time remained in expectation, and in almost perfect
solitude, when, at fifteen minutes before nine, an extraordinary noise
that I heard outside announced to me the Emperor's arrival; and a few
moments after I saw him appear, amidst cries of enthusiasm, borne on the
arms of the officers who had escorted him from the island of Elba. The
Emperor begged them earnestly to let him walk; but his entreaties were
useless, and they bore him thus to the very door of his apartment, where
they deposited him near me. I had not seen the Emperor since the day of
his farewell to the National Guard in the great court of the palace; and
in spite of the great agitation into which I was thrown by all this
commotion, I could not help noticing how much stouter he had become.
"The Emperor had hardly entered his apartments than I was assigned to
duty in the interior. Marshal Bertrand, who had just replaced General
Excelmans in the command of the Tuileries, gave me an order to allow no
one to enter without informing him, and to give him the names of all who
requested to see the Emperor. One of the first to present himself was
Cambaceres, who appeared to me even more pallid than usual. A short time
after came the father of General Bertrand; and as this venerable old man
attempted to pay his respects first to the Emperor, Napoleon said to him,
'No, monsieur! nature first;' and in saying this, with a movement as
quick as his words, the Emperor, so to speak, threw him into the arms of
his son. Next came Queen Hortense, accompanied by her two children;
then, Count Regnault de Saint-Jean d'Angely, and many other persons whose
names have escaped me. I did not see again those I announced to Marshal
Bertrand, as they all went out by another door. I continued this duty
till eleven o'clock in the evening, at which time I was relieved of my
duties, and was invited to supper at an immense table of about three
hundred covers. All the persons presented at the palace took their
places at this table, one after the other. I there saw the Duke of
Vicenza, and found myself placed opposite General Excelmans. The Emperor
supped alone in his room with Marshal Bertrand, and their supper was by
no means so splendid as ours, for it consisted only of a roast chicken
and a dish of lentils; and yet I learned from an officer who fad attended
him constantly since he left Fontainebleau, that his Majesty had eaten
nothing since morning. The Emperor was exceedingly fatigued; I had
opportunity to mark this each time his door was opened. He was seated on
a chair in front of the fire, with his feet on the mantelpiece.
"As we all remained at the Tuileries, word was sent us about one o'clock
that the Emperor had just retired, and that in case any soldiers should
arrive during the night who had accompanied him, he had given orders that
they should be on duty at the palace conjointly with the National Guard.
The poor creatures were hardly in a condition to obey such an order. At
two o'clock in the morning we saw two of them arrive in a most pitiable
condition; they were perfectly emaciated, and their feet blistered. All
that they could do was to throw themselves on their bags, on which they
fell sound asleep; and they did not even awake while the duty of
bandaging their feet was attended to in the room which they had reached
with so much difficulty. All were eager to lavish every attention on
them; and I admit that I have always regretted not having inquired the
names of these two brave grenadiers, who inspired in all of us an
interest I cannot describe.
"After retiring at one o'clock, the Emperor was on his feet at five
o'clock in the morning; and the order was immediately given to the
soldiers on half pay to hold themselves ready for a review, and at break
of day they were ranged in three ranks. At this moment I was deputed to
watch over an officer who was pointed out as suspicious, and who, it was
said, had come from Saint-Denis. This was M. de Saint-Chamans. At the
end of a quarter of an hour of arrest, which had nothing disagreeable in
it, he was simply asked to leave. Meanwhile, the Emperor had descended
from the palace, and passed through the ranks of the soldiers on half
pay, speaking to each one, taking many of them by the hand, and saying to
them, 'My friends, I need your services; I rely on you as you may rely on
me.' Magic words on the lips of Napoleon, and which drew tears of
emotion from all those brave soldiers whose services had been ignored for
a year.
"From the morning the crowd increased rapidly on all the approaches to
the Tuileries, and a mass of people assembled under the windows of the
chateau, demanding with loud shouts to see Napoleon. Marshal Bertrand
having informed him of this, the Emperor showed himself at the window,
where he was saluted by the shouts which his presence had so often
excited. After showing himself to the people, the Emperor himself
presented to them Marshal Bertrand, his arm resting on the marshal's
shoulder, whom he pressed to his heart with demonstrations of the
liveliest affection. During this scene, which deeply affected all the
witnesses, who cheered with all their might, officers, standing behind
the Emperor and his friend, held above their heads banners surmounted by
their eagles, of which they formed a kind of national canopy. At eleven
o'clock the Emperor mounted his horse, and reviewed the various regiments
which were arriving from every direction, and the heroes of the island of
Elba who had returned to the Tuileries during the night. All seemed
deeply impressed with the appearance of these brave men, whom the sun of
Italy had tanned, and who had traveled nearly two hundred leagues in
twenty days."
These are the curious details which were given to me by a friend; and I
can guarantee the truth of his recital the same as if I myself had been
an eye-witness of all that occurred during the memorable night of the
20th and 21st March, 1815. Continuing in my retreat during the hundred
days, and long after, I have nothing to say which all the world would not
know as well as I concerning this important epoch in the life of the
Emperor. I have shed many tears over his sufferings at the time of his
second abdication, and the tortures inflicted on him at St. Helena by the
miserable Hudson Lowe, whose infamy will go down through the ages side by
side with the glory of the Emperor. I will simply content myself by
adding to the preceding a certain document which was confided to me by
the former Queen of Westphalia, and saying a word in conclusion as to the
destination I thought best to give to the first cross of the Legion of
Honor which the First Consul had worn.
Princess Catharine of Wurtemberg, the wife of Prince Jerome, is, as is
well known, a woman of great beauty, gifted at the same time with more
solid qualities, which time increases instead of diminishing. She joins,
to much natural intelligence, a highly cultivated mind, a character truly
worthy of a sister-in-law of the Emperor, and carries even to enthusiasm
her love of duty. Events did not allow her to become a great queen, but
they have not prevented her remaining an accomplished wife. Her
sentiments are noble and elevated; but she shows haughtiness to none, and
all who surround her take pleasure in boasting of the charms of her
kindness towards her household, and she possesses the happiest gift of
nature, which consists in making herself beloved by every one. Prince
Jerome is not without a certain grandeur of manner and formal generosity,
which he learned while on the throne of Cassel, but he is generally very
haughty. Although in consequence of the great changes which have taken
place in Europe since the fall of the Emperor, Prince Jerome owes the
comfortable maintenance which he still enjoys to the love of the
princess, she does not any the less show a truly exemplary submission to
his will. Princess Catharine occupies herself almost exclusively with
her three children, two boys and one girl, all of whom are very
beautiful. The eldest was born in the month of August, 1814. Her
daughter, the Princess Mathilde, owes her superior education to the care
her mother exercised over it; she is pretty, but less so than her
brothers, who all have their mother's features.
After the description, which is not at all flattered, which I have just
given of Princess Catharine, it may seem surprising that, provided as she
is with so many solid qualities, she has never been able to conquer an
inexplicable weakness regarding petty superstitions. Thus, for instance,
she is extremely afraid to seat herself at a table where there are
thirteen guests. I will relate an anecdote of which I can guarantee the
authenticity, and which, perhaps, may foster the weakness of persons
subject to the same superstitions as the Princess of Wurtemberg. One day
at Florence, being present at a family dinner, she perceived that there
were exactly thirteen plates, suddenly grew pale, and obstinately refused
to take her seat. Princess Eliza Bacciochi ridiculed her sister-in-law,
shrugged her shoulders, and said to her, smiling, "There is no danger,
there are in truth fourteen, since I am enceinte." Princess Catharine
yielded, but with extreme repugnance. A short time after she had to put
on mourning for her sister-in-law; and the death of the Princess Eliza,
as may well be believed, contributed no little to render her more
superstitious than ever as to the number thirteen. Well! let strong
minds boast themselves as they may; but I can console the weak, as I dare
to affirm that, if the Emperor had witnessed such an occurrence in his
own family, an instinct stronger than any other consideration, stronger
even than his all-powerful reason, would have caused him some moments of
vague anxiety.
Now, it only remains for me to render an account of the bestowal I made
of the first cross of honor the First Consul wore. The reader need not
be alarmed; I did not make a bad use of it; it is on the breast of a
brave soldier of our old army. In 1817 I made the acquaintance of M.
Godeau, a former captain in the Imperial Guard. He had been severely
wounded at Leipzig by a cannon-ball, which broke his knee. I found in
him an admiration for the Emperor so intense and so sincere, he urged me
so earnestly to give him something, whatever it might be, which had
belonged to his Majesty, that I made him a present of the cross of honor
of which I have spoken, as he had long ago been decorated with that
order. This cross is, I might say, a historical memento, being the
first, as I have stated, which his Majesty wore. It is of silver, medium
size, and is not surmounted with the imperial crown. The Emperor wore it
a year; it decorated his breast for the last time the day of the battle
of Austerlitz. From that day, in fact, his Majesty wore an officer's
cross of gold with the crown, and no longer wore the cross of a simple
member of the legion.
Here my souvenirs would end if, in re-reading the first volumes of my
memoirs, the facts I have there related had not recalled to me some
others which may be of interest. With the impossibility of presenting
them in the proper order and connection, I have decided, in order that
the reader may not be deprived of them, to offer them as detached
anecdotes, which I have endeavored to class as far as possible, according
to the order of time.
CHAPTER XXX.
ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS.
As I have often-had occasion to remark, the Emperor's tastes were
extremely simple in everything relating to his person; moreover, he
manifested a decided aversion to the usages of fashion; he did not like,
so to speak, to turn night into day, as was done in the most of the
brilliant circles of society in Paris under the Consulate, and at the
commencement of the Empire. Unfortunately, the Empress Josephine did not
hold the same views, and being a submissive slave of fashion, liked to
prolong her evenings after the Emperor had retired.
She had the habit of then collecting around her her most intimate ladies
and a few friends, and giving them tea. Gaming was entirely precluded
from these nocturnal reunions, of which conversation was the only charm.
This conversation of the highest circles of society was a most agreeable
relaxation to the Empress; and this select circle assembled frequently
without the Emperor being aware of it, and was, in fact, a very innocent
entertainment. Nevertheless, some obliging person was so indiscreet as
to make the Emperor a report concerning these assemblies, containing
matters which roused his displeasure. He expressed his dissatisfaction
to the Empress Josephine, and from that time she retired at the same time
as the Emperor.
These teas were then abandoned, and all persons attached to the service
of the Emperor received orders not to sit up after the Emperor retired.
As well as I remember, this is how I heard his Majesty express himself on
the occasion. "When the masters are asleep, the valets should retire to
bed; and when the masters are awake, the valets should be on their feet."
These words produced the intended effect; and that very evening, as soon
as the Emperor was in bed, all at the palace retired, and at half-past
eleven no one was awake but the sentinels.
By degrees, as always occurs, the strict observance of the Emperor's
orders was gradually relaxed, still without the Empress daring to resume
her nocturnal gatherings. The words of his Majesty were not forgotten,
however, and were well remembered by M. Colas, concierge of the pavilion
of Flora.
One morning about four o'clock, M. Colas heard an unaccustomed noise,
and a continued movement in the interior of the palace, and supposed from
this that the Emperor was awake, in which he was not mistaken. He
dressed in all haste, and had been ten minutes at his post when the
Emperor, descending the staircase with Marshal Duroc, perceived him.
His Majesty usually took pleasure in showing that he remarked exactness
in fulfilling his orders; therefore he stopped a moment, and said to M.
Colas, "Ah! already awake, Colas?"--"Yes, Sire; I have not forgotten that
valets should be on foot when the masters are awake."--"You have a good
memory, Colas; an excellent thing."
All this was very well, and the day began for M. Colas under most
favorable auspices; but in the evening the medal of the morning was
obliged to show the opposite side. The Emperor went that morning to
visit the works on the canal of the Ourcq. He was apparently much
dissatisfied; for he returned to the palace in such evident illhumor,
that M. Colas, perceiving it, let these words escape his lips, "Il y a de
l'oignon." Although he spoke in a low tone, the Emperor heard him, and
turning abruptly to him, repeated angrily, "Yes, Monsieur, you are not
mistaken; il y a de l'oignon." He then rapidly remounted the staircase,
while the concierge, fearing he had said too much, approached the grand
marshal, begging him to excuse him to his Majesty; but he never had an
idea of punishing him for the liberty he had taken, and the expression
which had escaped his lips one would hardly expect to find in the
imperial vocabulary.
The coming of the Pope to Paris for the purpose of crowning the Emperor
is one of those events which suffice to mark the grandeur of a period.
The Emperor never spoke of it except with extreme satisfaction, and he
wished his Holiness to be received with all the magnificence which should
attend the founder of a great empire. With this intention his Majesty
gave orders that, without any comment, everything should be furnished not
only that the Pope, but also all that the persons of his suite, might
demand. Alas! it was not by his own personal expenses that the Holy
Father assisted to deplete the imperial treasury.
Pius VII. drank only water, and his sobriety was truly apostolic; but
this was not the case with the abbes attached to his service, for these
gentlemen each day required five bottles of Chambertin wine, without
counting those of other kinds and most expensive liquors.
This recalls another occurrence, which, however, relates only indirectly
to the Pope's stay in Paris. It is known that David was ordered by the
Emperor to execute the picture of the coronation, a work which offered an
incredible number of almost insurmountable difficulties, and which was,
in fact, one of the masterpieces of the great painter.
At all events, the preparation of this picture gave rise to controversies
in which the Emperor was compelled to interfere; and the case was
serious, as we shall see, since a Cardinal's wig was in question. David
persisted in not painting the head of Cardinal Caprara with a wig; and on
his part the Cardinal was not willing to allow him to paint his head
without the wig. Some took sides with the painter, some with the model;
and though the affair was treated with much diplomacy, no concession
could be obtained from either of the contracting parties, until at last
the Emperor took the part of his first painter against the Cardinal's
wig. This recalls the story of the artless man who would not allow his
head to be painted bare because he took cold so easily, and his picture
would be hung in a room without a fire.
When M. de Bourrienne left the Emperor, as is well known, he was replaced
by M. de Meneval, who had been formerly in the service of Prince Joseph.
The Emperor became more and more attached to his new private secretary in
proportion as he came to know him better. By degrees the work of the
cabinet, in which was transacted the greater part of the most important
business, became so considerable that it was impossible for one man alone
to perform it; and from the year 1805 two young men, proteges of M.
Maret, secretary of state, were admitted to the honor of working in the
Emperor's cabinet; and though initiated by the nature of their duties
into the most important state secrets, there was never the slightest
reason to suspect their perfect discretion. They were, besides, very
diligent, and endowed with much talent, so that his Majesty formed an
excellent opinion of them. Their position was most enviable. Lodged in
the palace, and consequently supplied with fuel and lights, they were
also fed, and received each a salary of eight thousand francs. It might
well have been thought that this sum would be sufficient for these
gentlemen to live most comfortably; but this was not the case. For if
they were assiduous during the hours of labor, they were not less so
during those devoted to pleasure; whence it arose that the second quarter
had hardly passed before the whole year's salary was spent, part of it in
gambling, and the rest among low companions.
Among the two secretaries added to the Emperor's service, there was one
especially who had contracted so many debts, and whose creditors were so
pitiless, that, had there been no other reason, he would infallibly have
been dismissed from the private cabinet if the report of this had reached
his Majesty's ears.
After passing an entire night reflecting on his embarrassing position,
searching his imagination to secure some means of obtaining the sum
necessary to satisfy those creditors who were most importunate, the new
spendthrift sought distraction in work, and went to his desk at five
o'clock in the morning in order to drive away his painful thoughts; not
thinking that at this hour any one would hear him, and while working
began to whistle La Linotte with all his might. Now, this morning, as
often before, the Emperor had already been working a whole hour in his
cabinet, and had just gone out as the young man entered, and, hearing
this whistling, immediately returned.
"Already here, Monsieur," said his Majesty. "Zounds! Why, that is
remarkable! Maret should be well satisfied with you. What is your
salary?"--"Sire, I have eight thousand francs a year, and besides am
boarded and lodged in the palace."--"That is well, Monsieur, and you
ought to be very happy."
The young man, seeing that his Majesty was in a very good humor, thought
that fortune had sent him a favorable opportunity of being relieved of
his embarrassment, and resolved to inform the Emperor of his trying
situation. "Alas, Sire!" said he, "no doubt I ought to be happy, but I
am not."--"Why is that?"--"Sire, I must confess to your Majesty that I
have so many English to carry, and besides I have to support an old
father, two sisters, and a brother."--"You are only doing your duty.
But what do you mean by your English? Are you supporting them also?"--
"No, Sire; but it is they who have fed my pleasures, with the money they
have lent me, and all who have creditors now call them the English."--
"Stop! stop, Monsieur! What! you have creditors, and in spite of your
large salary you have made debts! That is enough, Monsieur. I do not
wish to have any longer near me a man who has recourse to the gold of the
English, when on what I give him he can live honorably. In an hour you
will receive your discharge."
The Emperor, having expressed himself as we have just heard, picked up
some papers from the desk, threw a severe glance at the young secretary,
and left him in such a state of despair that, when some one else
fortunately entered the cabinet, he was on the point of committing
suicide with a long paper-cutter he held in his hand. This person was
the aide-de-camp on duty, who brought him a letter from the Emperor,
couched in the following terms:
"Monsieur, you deserve to be dismissed from my service, but I have
thought of your family, and I pardon you on their account; and since
it is they who would suffer from your misconduct, I consequently
send you with my pardon ten thousand francs in bank-notes. Pay with
this sum all the English who torment you, and, above all, do not
again fall into their clutches; for in that case I shall abandon
you.
NAPOLEON."
An enormous "Vive l'Empereur!" sprang spontaneously to the lips of the
young man, who darted out like lightning to announce to his family this
new proof of imperial tyranny.
This was not the end, however; for his companion, having been informed of
what had taken place, and also desiring some bank-notes to pacify his
English, redoubled his zeal and activity in work, and for several days in
succession repaired to the cabinet at four in the morning, and also
whistled La Linotte; but it was all in vain, the Emperor did not seem to
hear him.
Much was said at Paris and in the Court in ridicule of the ludicrous
sayings of the wife of Marshal Lefebvre, and a collection could be made
of her queer speeches, many of which are pure fabrications; but a volume
would also be necessary to record all the acts by which she manifested
her kindness of heart.
One day, at Malmaison (I think a short time after the Empire was
founded), the Empress Josephine had given explicit orders that no one
should be admitted. The Marechale Lefebvre presented herself; but the
usher, compelled by his orders, refused to allow her to enter. She
insisted, and he still refused. During this discussion, the Empress,
passing from one apartment to the other, was seen through a glass door
which separated this apartment from that in which the duchess then was.
The Empress, having also seen her, hastily advanced to meet her, and
insisted on her entering. Before passing in, Madame Lefebvre turned to
the usher, and said to him in a mocking tone, "Well, my good fellow, you
see I got in!" The poor usher blushed up to his ears, and withdrew in
confusion.
Marshal Lefebvre was not less good, less excellent, than his wife; and it
might well be said of them that high honors had made no change in their
manners. The good they both did could not be told. It might have been
said that this was their only pleasure, the only compensation for a great
domestic misfortune. They had only one son, who was one of the worst men
in the whole Empire. Each day there were complaints against him; the
Emperor himself frequently admonished him on account of the high esteem
he had for his brave father. But there resulted no improvement, and his
natural viciousness only manifested itself the more. He was killed in
some battle, I forget which; and as little worthy of regret as he was,
his death was a deep affliction to his excellent mother, although he even
forgot himself so far as to speak disrespectfully of her in his coarse
speeches. She usually made M. de Fontanes the confidant of her sorrows;
for the grand master of the university, notwithstanding his exquisite
politeness and his admirable literary style, was very intimately
associated with the household of Marshal Lefebvre.
In this connection I recall an anecdote which proves better than anything
that could be said the kindness and perfect simplicity of the marshal.
One day it was announced to him that some one whose name was not given
wished to speak to him. The marshal left his cabinet, and recognized his
old captain in the French Guards, in which, as we have said, the marshal
had been a sergeant. The marshal begged permission to embrace him,
offered his services, his purse, his house; treated him almost exactly as
if he had been under his orders. The old captain was an emigre, and had
returned undecided what he would do. Through the efforts of the marshal
his name was promptly struck out of the list of emigres; but he did not
wish to re-enter the army, and yet was in much need of a position.
Having supported himself during his emigration by giving lessons in
French and Latin, he expressed a desire to obtain a position in the
university. "Well, my colonel," said the marshal with his German accent,
"I will take you at once to my friend M. de Fontanes." The marshal's
carriage is soon at the door, and the respectful protector and his
protege enter the apartments of the grand master of the university.
M. de Fontanes hastens to meet the marshal, who, I have been informed,
made his presentation speech in this style:
"My dear friend, I present to you the Marquis of ----.
"He was my former captain, my good captain. He would like to obtain a
place in the university. Ah! he is not a man of nothing, a man of the
Revolution like you and me. He is my old captain, the Marquis of ---- ."
Finally the marshal closed by saying, "Ah, the good, excellent man! I
shall never forget that when I went for orders to my good captain, he
never failed to say: 'Lefebvre, my child, pass on to the kitchen; go and
get something to eat.' Ah, my good, my excellent captain!"
All the members of the imperial family had a great fondness for music,
and especially the Italian; but they were not musicians, and most of them
sang as badly as his Majesty himself, with the exception of the Princess
Pauline, who had profited by the lessons of Blangini, and sang tolerably
well. In respect of his voice, Prince Eugene showed himself worthy to be
the adopted son of the Emperor; for, though he was a musician and sang
with fervor, it was not in such a manner as to satisfy his auditors.
In compensation, however, Prince Eugene's voice was magnificent for
commanding military evolutions, an advantage which Count Lobau and
General Dorsenne also possessed; and it was consequently always one of
these whom his Majesty appointed to command under his orders on great
reviews.
Notwithstanding the severe etiquette of the Emperor's court, there were
always a few privileged persons who had the right to enter his apartment,
even when he was in bed, though the number was small. They consisted of
the following persons:--
M. de Talleyrand, vice grand elector; de Montesquiou, grand chamberlain;
de Remusat, first chamberlain; Maret, Corvisart, Denon, Murat, Yvan;
Duroc, grand marshal; and de Caulaincourt, grand equerry.
For a long time all these personages came to the Emperor's apartment
almost every morning, and their visits were the origin of what was
afterwards called 'le petit lever'. M. de Lavalette also came
frequently, and also M. Real and Messieurs Fouche and Savary while each
of them was minister of police.
The princes of the imperial family also enjoyed the right to enter the
Emperor's apartment in the morning. I often saw the Emperor's mother.
The Emperor kissed her hand with much respect and tenderness, but I have
many times heard him reproach her for her excessive economy. Madame Mere
listened, and then gave as excuse for not changing her style of living
reasons which often vexed his Majesty, but which events have
unfortunately justified.
Madame Mere had been a great beauty, and was still very pretty,
especially when I saw her for the first time. It was impossible to find
a better mother; devoted to her children; she lavished on them the sagest
counsels, and always intervened in family quarrels to sustain those whom
she thought in the right; for a long time she took Lucien's part, and I
have often heard her warmly defend Jerome when the First Consul was most
severe towards his young brother. The only fault in Madame Mere's
character was her excessive economy, and on this point astonishing things
could be said without fear of exaggeration, but she was beloved by every
one in the palace for her kindness and affability.
I recall in reference to Madame Mere an incident which greatly amused the
Empress Josephine. Madame was spending several days at Malmaison, when
one day one of her ladies, whom she had caused to be sent for, found, on
entering the room, to her great astonishment, Cardinal Fesch discharging
the duty of a lady's maid by lacing up his sister, who had on only her
underclothing and her corset.
One of the subjects on which the Emperor would listen to no raillery was
that of custom-house duties, and towards all contraband proceeding he
showed inflexible severity; and this reached such a point, that one day
M. Soiris, director of the custom-house at Verceil, having seized a
package of sixty cashmere shawls, sent from Constantinople to the
Empress, the Emperor approved his action, and the cashmeres were sold for
the benefit of the state. In such cases the Emperor always said, "How
can a sovereign have the laws respected if he does not respect them
himself?" I recall another occasion, and I think the only instance in
which he permitted an infraction of the custom-house regulations; but we
shall see the question was not that of ordinary smuggling.
The grenadiers of the Old Guard, under the orders of General Soules,
returned to France after the peace of Tilsit. On their arrival at
Mayence, the custom-house officers endeavored to perform their duty, and
consequently inspected the chests of the Guard and those of the general.
Meanwhile, the director of the custom-house, in doubt what proceedings to
take, sought the general to inform him of the necessity he was under of
executing the laws, and of carrying out the direct orders of the Emperor.
The general's reply to this courteous overture was plain and energetic:
"If a single officer dares to place his hand on the boxes of my old
mustaches, I'll throw him into the Rhine!" The officer insisted. The
custom-house employees were quite numerous, and were preparing to proceed
with the inspection, when General Soules had the boxes put in the middle
of the square, and a regiment detailed to guard them. The director of
the custom-house, not daring to proceed further, sent to the
director-general a report to be submitted to the Emperor. Under any
other circumstances the case would have been serious; but the Emperor
had just returned to Paris, where he had been welcomed more heartily
than ever before by the acclamations of the people on the occasion of
the fetes celebrated in honor of peace, and this old Guard was returning
home resplendent with glory, and after most admirable behavior at Eylau.
All these things combined to quell the Emperor's anger; and having
decided not to punish, he wished to reward them, and not to take
seriously their infraction of his custom-house regulations. General
Soules, on reaching Paris, presented himself before the Emperor, who
received him cordially, and, after some remarks relative to the Guard,
added: "By the by, what is this you have been doing? I heard of you.
What! you really threatened to throw my custom-house officers into the
Rhine! Would you have done it?"--"Yes, Sire," replied the general, with
his German accent, "yes; I would have done it. It was an insult to my
old grenadiers to attempt to inspect their boxes."--"Come, now," said
the Emperor very affably, "I see just how it is. You have been
smuggling."--"I, Sire?"--"Yes, I say. You have been smuggling. You
bought linen in Hanover. You wanted to furnish your house handsomely,
as you imagined I would appoint you senator. You were not mistaken. Go
and have your senator's coat made, but do not repeat this performance,
for next time I will have you shot."
During our stay at Bayonne, in 1808, every one was struck with the
awkward manners of the King and Queen of Spain, and the poor taste
displayed in their toilets, the disgraceful appearance of their
equipages, and a certain air of constraint and embarrassment which was
general among all the persons of their suite. The elegant manners of the
French and the magnificence of the imperial equipages furnished such a
contrast to all this that it rendered them indescribably ridiculous. The
Emperor, who had such exquisite tact in all matters, was not one of the
last to perceive this, but, nevertheless, was not pleased that an
opportunity should be found to ridicule crowned heads. One morning at
his toilet he said to me, "I say, then, Monsieur le drole, you, who are
so well versed in these matters, give a few hints to the valet de chambre
of the King and Queen of Spain. They appear so awkward they really
excite my pity." I eagerly did what his Majesty suggested; but he did
not content himself with this, but also communicated to the Empress
Josephine his observations on the queen and her ladies. The Empress
Josephine, who was the embodiment of taste, gave orders accordingly; and
for two days her hairdressers and women were occupied exclusively in
giving lessons in taste and elegance to their Spanish brethren. This is
a striking evidence of how the Emperor found time for everything, and
could descend from his elevated duties to the most insignificant affairs.
The grand marshal of the palace (Duroc) was almost the same height as the
Emperor. He walked badly and ungracefully, but had a tolerably good head
and features. He was quick tempered, impulsive, and swore like a
soldier; but he had much administrative ability, of which he gave more
than one proof in the organization of the imperial household, which was
ably and wisely regulated. When the enemy's cannon deprived his Majesty
of this devoted servitor and sincere friend, the Empress Josephine said
that she knew only two men capable of filling his place; these were
General Drouot and M. de Flahaut, and the whole household hoped that one
of these two gentlemen would be nominated; this, however, was not the
case.
M. de Caulaincourt, Duke of Vicenza, was extremely severe towards the
household; but he was just and of a chivalrous loyalty, and his word was
as good as a contract: He was feared and yet beloved. He had a piercing
eye, spoke quickly and with great ease. The Emperor's regard for him was
well known, and certainly no one was more worthy of it than he.
The Count de Remusat was of medium height, with a smooth, white face,
obliging, amiable, and with natural politeness and good taste; but he was
extravagant, lacked order in managing his own affairs and consequently
those of the Emperor. This lavish expenditure, which is admirable from
one point of view, might have suited any other sovereign; but the Emperor
was economical, and though, much attached to M. de Remusat, dismissed him
from the head of the wardrobe bureau, and put in his place Monsieur de
Turenne, who exercised the strictest economy. M. de Turenne possessed
perhaps a little too much of what his predecessor lacked, but it was
exactly this that pleased the Emperor. M. de Turenne was quite a pretty
man, thinking perhaps a little too much of himself, a great talker and
Anglo-maniac, which led the Emperor to give him the name of my lord
Kinsester (who cannot be silent); but he told a story well, and sometimes
his Majesty took pleasure in making him relate the chronicles of Paris.
When the Count of Turenne replaced the Count of Remusat in the office of
grand master of the wardrobe, in order not to exceed the sum of twenty
thousand francs which his Majesty allowed for his toilet, he exercised
the greatest possible economy in the quantity, price, and quality of
things indispensable to the household. I have been told, but I do not
know whether it is true, that, in order to ascertain exactly what were
the profits of the Emperor's furnishers, he went to the various factories
of Paris with samples of gloves, silk stockings, aloes wood, etc.; but,
even if this is true, it only does honor to the zeal and probity of M. de
Turenne.
I knew very little of Count Segur, grand master of ceremonies. It was
said in the household that he was haughty and somewhat abrupt, but
perfectly polite and intelligent, with a delicate and refined face.
It would be necessary to have witnessed the perfect order which reigned
in the Emperor's household to comprehend it fully. From the time of the
Consulate, General Duroc had brought into the administration of the
interior affairs of the palace that spirit of order and economy which
especially characterized him. But, great as was the Emperor's confidence
in General Duroc, he did not disdain to throw the glance of a master over
things which seemed insignificant, and with which, in general, sovereigns
rarely occupy themselves. Thus, for example, in the beginning of the
Empire there was some little extravagance in certain parts of the palace,
notably at Saint-Cloud, where the aides-de-camp kept open table; but this
was, nevertheless, far from equaling the excessive prodigality of the
ancient regime. Champagne and other wines especially were used in great
quantities, and it was very necessary that the Emperor should establish
regulations as to his cellar. He summoned the chief of the household
service, Soupe Pierrugues, and said to him, "Monsieur, I commit to you
the keys of my imperial cellars; you will there have charge of the wines
of all kinds; some are needed in my palaces of the Tuileries,
Saint-Cloud, Compiegne, Fontainebleau, Marrac, Lacken, and Turin.
Establish a moderate price at all these residences, and you alone will
furnish wines to my household." This arrangement was made, and all
kinds of fraud were impossible, as the deputy of M. Soupe Pierrugues
delivered wines only on a note signed by the controller of the kitchen;
all the bottles not opened were returned, and each evening an account
was given of what had been used for that day.
The service had the same regulations while we were on campaigns. During
the second campaign of Vienna, I recollect that the house deputy of Soupe
Pierrugues was M. Eugene Pierrugues, frank, gay, witty, and much beloved
by us all. An imprudence cost him dear, for in consequence of a
heedlessness natural at his age he had his arm broken. We were then at
Schoenbrunn. Those who have seen this imperial residence know that
splendid avenues extend in front of the palace, leading to the road to
Vienna. As I often took horseback rides through the town, M. Eugene
Pierrugues wished to accompany me one day, and borrowed a horse from one
of the quartermasters of the palace. He was forewarned that the horse
was very fiery; but he paid no attention to that, and immediately put him
into a gallop. I reined mine in, in order not to excite my companion's;
but in spite of this precaution the horse ran away, dashed into the
woods, and broke the arm of his unfortunate and imprudent rider.
M. Eugene Pierrugues was, however, not unhorsed by the blow, and kept his
seat a short while after the injury; but it was very serious, and it was
necessary to carry him back to the palace. I, more than any one else,
was distressed by this frightful accident; and we established a regular
attendance on him, so that one at least could always be with him when our
duties allowed. I have never seen suffering borne with more fortitude;
and it was carried to such a remarkable degree, that, finding his arm
badly set, at the end of a few days he had it again fractured, an
operation which caused him horrible suffering.
My uncle, who was usher of the Emperor's cabinet, related to me an
anecdote which is probably entirely unknown; since everything, as we
shall see, occurred under cover of the most profound mystery. "One
evening," he said to me, "Marshal Duroc gave me in person orders to
extinguish the lights in the saloon in front of his Majesty's cabinet,
and to leave only a few candles lighted. I was surprised at such a novel
order, especially as the grand marshal was not accustomed to give them
thus directly, but, nevertheless, executed it precisely, and waited at my
post. At ten o'clock Marshal Duroc returned, accompanied by a personage
whose features it was impossible to distinguish, as he was entirely
wrapped in a large cloak, his head covered, and his hat pulled down over
his eyes. I withdrew, leaving the two alone, but had hardly left the
saloon when the Emperor entered, and Marshal Duroc also retired, leaving
the stranger alone with his Majesty. From the tone in which the Emperor
spoke it was easy to see that he was greatly irritated. He spoke very
loud; and I heard him say, 'Well, Monsieur, you will never change then.
It is gold you want, always gold. You draw on all foreign banks, and
have no confidence in that of Paris. You have ruined the bank of
Hamburg; you have caused M. Drouet (or Drouaut, for the name was
pronounced very quickly) to lose two millions:
"The Emperor," my uncle continued, "conversed in this strain for a long
while, though the stranger did not reply, or replied in so low a tone
that it was impossible to hear a word; and the scene, which must have
been most trying to the mysterious personage, lasted about twenty
minutes. At last he was permitted to leave, which he did with the same
precautions as on his arrival, and retired from the palace as secretly as
he had come."
Nothing of this scene was known in Paris; and, moreover, neither my uncle
nor I have ever sought to ascertain the name of the person whom the
Emperor overwhelmed with such numerous and severe reproaches.
Whenever circumstances allowed, the Emperor's habits of life were very
regular, his time being almost uniformly divided as follows. Every
morning, at nine o'clock precisely, the Emperor left the imperial
apartments; his exactness in observing hours was carried to an extreme,
and I have sometimes seen him wait two or three moments in order that no
one might be taken by surprise. At nine o'clock his toilet was made for
the whole day. When he had reached the reception-room, the officers on
duty were first admitted, and received his Majesty's orders for their
time of service.
Immediately after this, what was called the grandes entrees took place.
That is to say, personages of high rank were admitted, who had this right
on account of their duties, or by the special favor of the Emperor; and I
can assert that this favor was much envied. It was granted generally to
all the officers of the imperial household, even if they were not on
duty; and every one remained standing, as did the Emperor also. He made
the tour of all the persons present, nearly always addressed a remark or
a question to each one; and it was amusing to see afterwards, during the
whole day, the proud and haughty bearing of those to whom the Emperor had
spoken a little longer than to others. This ceremony usually lasted a
half-hour, and as soon as it was finished the Emperor bowed and each
retired.
At half-past nine the Emperor's breakfast was served, usually on a small
mahogany stand; and this first repast commonly lasted only seven or eight
minutes, though sometimes it was prolonged, and even lasted quite a long
while. This, however, was only on rare occasions, when the Emperor was
in unusually good-humor, and wished to indulge in the pleasure of a
conversation with men of great merit, whom he had known a long while, and
who happened to be present at his breakfast. There he was no longer the
formal Emperor of the levee; he was in a manner the hero of Italy, the
conqueror of Egypt, and above all the member of the Institute. Those who
came most habitually were Messieurs Monge, Berthollet, Costaz
(superintendent of crown buildings), Denon, Corvisart, David, Gerard,
Isabey, Talma, and Fontaine (his first architect). How many noble
thoughts, how many elevated sentiments, found vent in these conversations
which the Emperor was accustomed to open by saying, "Come, Messieurs, I
close the door of my cabinet." This was the signal, and it was truly
miraculous to see his Majesty's aptitude in putting his genius in
communication with these great intellects with such diversities of
talent.
I recall that, during the days preceding the Emperor's coronation, M.
Isabey attended regularly at the Emperor's breakfast, and was present
almost every morning; and strange, too, it did not seem an absurd thing
to see children's toys used to represent the imposing ceremony which was
to exert such a great influence over the destinies of the world. The
intelligent painter of his Majesty's cabinet portraits caused to be
placed on a large table a number of small figures representing all the
personages who were to take part in the ceremony of the coronation; each
had his designated place; and no one was omitted, from the Emperor to the
Pope, and even to the choristers, each being dressed in the costume he
was expected to wear.
These rehearsals took place frequently, and all were eager to consult the
model in order to make no mistake as to the place each was to occupy. On
those days, as may be imagined, the door of the cabinet was closed, and
in consequence the ministers sometimes, waited awhile. Immediately after
the breakfast the Emperor admitted his ministers and director generals;
and these audiences, devoted to the special work of each minister and of
each director, lasted until six o'clock in the evening, with the
exception of those days on which his Majesty occupied himself exclusively
with governmental affairs, and presided over the council of state, or the
ministerial councils.
At the Tuileries and at Saint-Cloud dinner was served at six o'clock; and
the Emperor dined each day alone with the Empress, except on Sunday, when
all the family were admitted to dinner. The Emperor, Empress, and Madame
Mere only were seated in armchairs; all others, whether kings or queens,
having only ordinary chairs. There was only one course before the
dessert. His Majesty usually drank Chambertin wine, but rarely without
water, and hardly more than one bottle. To dine with the Emperor was
rather an honor than a pleasure to those who were admitted; for it was
necessary, to use the common expression, to swallow in post haste, as his
Majesty never remained at table more than fifteen or eighteen minutes.
After his dinner, as after breakfast, the Emperor habitually took a cup
of coffee, which the Empress poured out. Under the Consulate Madame
Bonaparte began this custom, because the General often forgot to take his
coffee; she continued it after she became Empress, and the Empress Marie
Louise retained the same custom.
After dinner the Empress descended to her apartments, where she found
assembled her ladies and the officers on duty; and the Emperor sometimes
accompanied her, but remained only a short while. Such was the customary
routine of life in the palace at the Tuileries on those days when there
was neither the chase in the morning, nor concert nor theater in the
evening; and the life at Saint-Cloud differed little from that at the
Tuileries. Sometimes rides were taken in coaches when the weather
permitted; and on Wednesday, the day set for the council of ministers,
these officials were invariably honored by an invitation to dine with
their Majesties. When there was a hunt at Fontainebleau, Rambouillet, or
Compiegne, the usual routine was omitted; the ladies followed in coaches,
and the whole household dined with the Emperor and Empress under a tent
erected in the forest. It sometimes happened, though rarely, that the
Emperor invited unexpectedly some members of his family to remain to dine
with him; and this recalls an anecdote which should have a place in this
connection. The King of Naples came one day to visit the Emperor, and
being invited to dine, accepted, forgetting that he was in morning dress,
and there was barely time for him to change his costume, and consequently
none to return to the Elysee, which he then inhabited. The king ran
quickly up to my room, and informed me of his embarrassment, which I
instantly relieved, to his great delight. I had at that time a very
handsome wardrobe, almost all the articles of which were then entirely
new; so I gave him a shirt, vest, breeches, stockings, and shoes, and
assisted him to dress, and fortunately everything fitted as if it had
been made especially for him. He showed towards me the same kindness and
affability he always manifested, and thanked me in the most charming
manner. In the evening the King of Naples, after taking leave of the
Emperor, returned to my room to resume his morning dress, and begged me
to come to him next day at the laysee, which I did punctually after
relating to the Emperor all that had occurred, much to his amusement.
On my arrival at the Elysee I was immediately introduced into the king's
apartments, who repeated his thanks in the most gracious manner, and gave
me a pretty Breguet watch.
[Abraham Louis Breguet, the celebrated watchmaker, was born at
Neuchatel, 1747; died 1823. He made numerous improvements in
watches and in nautical and astronomical instruments.]
During our campaigns I sometimes had occasion to render little services
of the same nature to the King of Naples; but the question was not then,
as at Saint-Cloud, one of silk stockings, for more than once on the
bivouac I shared with him a bundle of straw, which I had been fortunate
enough to procure. In such cases I must avow the sacrifice was much
greater on my part than when I had shared my wardrobe with him. The king
was not backward in expressing his gratitude; and I thought it a most
remarkable thing to see a sovereign, whose palace was filled with all
that luxury can invent to add to comfort, and all that art can create
which is splendid and magnificent, only too happy in procuring half of a
bundle of straw on which to rest his head.
I will now give some fresh souvenirs which have just recurred to my mind
concerning the Court theater. At Saint-Cloud, in order to reach the
theater hall, it was necessary to cross the whole length of the Orangery;
and nothing could be more elegant than the manner in which it was
decorated on these occasions. Rows of rare plants were arranged in
tiers, and the whole lighted by lamps; and during the winter the boxes
were hidden by covering them with moss and flowers, which produced a
charming effect under the lights.
The parterre of the theater was usually filled with generals, senators,
and councilors of state; the first boxes were reserved for the princes
and princesses of the imperial family, for foreign princes, marshals,
their wives, and ladies of honor. In the second tier were placed all
persons attached to the Court. Between the acts, ices and refreshments
were served; but the ancient etiquette had been re-established in one
particular, which greatly displeased the actors,--no applause was
allowed; and Talma often told me that the kind of coldness produced by
this silence was very detrimental at certain parts where the actor felt
the need of being enthused. Nevertheless, it sometimes happened that the
Emperor, in testimony of his satisfaction, made a slight signal with his
hand; and then and also at the grandest periods we heard, if not
applause, at least a flattering murmur which the spectators were not
always able to repress.
The chief charm of these brilliant assemblies was the presence of the
Emperor; and consequently an invitation to the theater of Saint-Cloud was
an honor much desired. In the time of the Empress Josephine there were
no representations at the palace in the absence of the Emperor; but when
Marie Louise was alone at Saint-Cloud during the campaign of Dresden, two
representations a week were given, and the whole repertoire of Gretry was
played in succession before her Majesty. At the end of each piece there
was always a little ballet.
The theater of Saint-Cloud was, so to speak, on more than one occasion
the theater of first attempts. For instance, M. Raynouard played there
for the first time the 'Etats de Blois', a work which the Emperor would
not allow to be played in public, and which was not done, in fact, until
after the return of Louis XVIII.
'The Venetians' by M. Amand also made its first appearance on the theater
of Saint-Cloud, or rather of Malmaison. This was not highly considered
at the time; but the infallible judgment the Emperor displayed in his
choice of plays and actors was most remarkable. He generally gave M.
Corvisart the preference in deciding these matters, on which he descanted
with much complacence when his more weighty occupations allowed. He was
usually less severe and more just than Geoffroy; and it is much to be
desired that the criticisms and opinions of the Emperor concerning
authors and actors could have been preserved. They would have been of
much benefit to the progress of art.
In speaking of the retreat from Moscow, I related previously in my
memoirs that I had the good fortune to offer a place in my carriage to
the young Prince of Aremborg, and assisted him in continuing his journey.
I recall another occasion in the life of this prince, when one of my
friends was very useful to him, some particulars of which may not be
without interest.
The Prince of Aremberg, an ordnance officer of the Emperor, had, as we
know, married Mademoiselle Tascher, niece of the Empress Josephine.
Having been sent into Spain, he was there taken by the English, and
afterwards carried a prisoner to England. His captivity was at first
very disagreeable; and he told me himself that he was very unhappy, until
he made the acquaintance of one of my friends, M. Herz, commissary of
war, who possessed a fine mind, was very intelligent, spoke several
languages, and was, like the prince, a prisoner in England. The
acquaintance formed at once between the prince and M. Herz soon became so
intimate that they were constantly together; and thus passed the time as
happily as it can with one far from his native land and deprived of his
liberty.
They were living thus, ameliorating for each other the ennui of
captivity, when M. Herz was exchanged, which was, perhaps, a great
misfortune for him, as we shall afterwards see. At all events, the
prince was deeply distressed at being left alone; but, nevertheless, gave
M. Herz several letters to his family, and at the same time sent his
mother his mustache, which he had mounted in a medallion with a chain.
One day the Princess of Aremberg arrived at Saint-Cloud and demanded a
private audience of the Emperor.
"My son," said she, "demands your Majesty's permission to attempt his
escape from England."--"Madame," said the Emperor, "your request is most
embarrassing! I do not forbid your son, but I can by no means authorize
him."
It was at the time I had the honor of saving the Prince of Aremberg's
life that I learned from him these particulars. As for my poor friend
Herz, his liberty became fatal to him, owing to an inexplicable
succession of events. Having been sent by Marshal Augereau to Stralsund
to perform a secret mission, he died there, suffocated by the fire of a
brass stove in the room in which he slept. His secretary and his servant
nearly fell victims to the same accident; but, more fortunate than he,
their lives were saved. The Prince of Aremberg spoke to me of the death
of M. Herz with real feeling; and it was easy to see that, prince as he
was and allied to the Emperor, he entertained a most sincere friendship
for his companion in captivity.
CHAPTER, XXXI.
MILITARY ANECDOTES.
I have collected under the title of Military Anecdotes some facts which
came to my knowledge while I accompanied the Emperor on his campaigns,
and the authenticity of which I guarantee. I might have scattered them
through my memoirs, and placed them in their proper periods; my not
having done so is not owing to forgetfulness on my part, but because I
thought that these incidents would have an added interest by being
collected together, since in them we see the direct influence of the
Emperor upon his soldiers, and thus can more easily form an exact idea of
the manner in which his Majesty treated them, his consideration for them,
and their attachment to his person.
During the autumn of 1804, between the time of the creation of the empire
and the coronation of the Emperor, his Majesty made several journeys to
the camp of Boulogne; and from this fact rumors arose that the expedition
against England would soon set sail. In one of his frequent tours of
inspection, the Emperor, stopping one day near the end of the camp on the
left, spoke to a cannoneer from a guard ship, and while conversing with
him, asked him several questions, among others, the following, "What is
thought here of the Emperor?"--"That 'sacre tondu' puts us out of breath
as soon as he arrives. Each time he comes we have not a moment's repose
while he is here. It might be thought he was enraged against those dogs
of English who are always beating us, not much to our own credit."
"You believe in glory, then?" said the Emperor. The cannoneer then
looked at him fixedly: "Somewhat, I think. Do you doubt it?"--"No, I do
not doubt it, but money, do you believe in that also?"--"Ah! what--I see
--do you mean to insult me, you questioner? I know no other interest
than that of the state."--"No, no, my brave soldier; I do not intend to
insult you, but I bet that a twenty-franc piece would not be disagreeable
to you in drinking a cup to my health." While speaking thus the Emperor
had drawn a Napoleon from his pocket, which he presented to the
cannoneer, whereupon the latter uttered a shout loud enough to be heard
by the sentinel at the west post some distance off; and even threw
himself on the Emperor, whom he took for a spy, and was about to seize
him by the throat when the Emperor suddenly opened his gray overcoat and
revealed his identity. The soldier's astonishment may be imagined! He
prostrated himself at the feet of the Emperor, overcome with confusion at
his mistake; but the latter, extending his hand, said, "Rise, my brave
fellow, you have done your duty; but you will not keep your word, I am
very sure; you will accept this piece, and drink to the health of the
'sacre tondo', will you not?" The Emperor then continued his rounds as
if nothing had occurred.
Every one admits to-day that never, perhaps, has any man been gifted to
the same degree as the Emperor with the art of addressing soldiers. He
appreciated this talent highly in others; but it was not fine phrases
which pleased him, and accordingly he held that a master-piece of this
kind was the very short harangue of General Vandamme to the soldiers he
commanded the day of the battle of Austerlitz. When day began to break
General Vandamme said to the troops, "My brave fellows! There are the
Russians! Load your pieces, pick your flints, put powder in the pan, fix
bayonets, ready and--forward!" I remember one day the Emperor spoke of
this oration before Marshal Berthier, who laughed at it. "That is like
you," he said. "Well, all the advocates of Paris would not have said it
so well; the soldier understands this, and that is the way battles are
won."
When after the first campaign of Vienna, so happily terminated by the
peace of Presburg, the Emperor was returning to Paris, many complaints
reached him against the exactions of certain generals, notably General
Vandamme. Complaint was made, amongst other grievances, that in the
little village of Lantza this general had allowed himself five hundred
florins per day, that is to say, eleven hundred and twenty-five francs,
simply for the daily expenses of his table. It was on this occasion the
Emperor said of him: "Pillages like a madman, but brave as Caesar."
Nevertheless, the Emperor, indignant at such exactions, and determined to
put an end to them, summoned the general to Paris to reprimand him; but
the latter, as soon as he entered the Emperor's presence, began to speak
before his Majesty had time to address him, saying, "Sire, I know why you
have summoned me; but as you know my devotion and my bravery I trust you
will excuse some slight altercations as to the furnishing of my table,
matters too petty, at any rate, to occupy your Majesty." The Emperor
smiled at the oratorical skillfulness of General Vandamme, and contented
himself with saying, "Well, well! say no more, but be more circumspect
in future."
General Vandamme, happy to have escaped with so gentle an admonition,
returned to Lantza to resume his command. He was indeed more circumspect
than in the past; but he found and seized the occasion to revenge himself
on the town for the compulsory self-denial the Emperor had imposed on
him. On his arrival he found in the suburbs a large number of recruits
who had come from Paris in his absence; and it occurred to him to make
them all enter the town, alleging that it was indispensable they should
be drilled under his own eyes. This was an enormous expense to the town,
which would have been very willing to recall its complaints, and continue
his expenses at the rate of five hundred florins per day.
The Emperor does not figure in the following anecdote. I will relate it,
however, as a good instance of the manners and the astuteness of our
soldiers on the campaign.
During the year 1806, a part of our troops having their quarters in
Bavaria, a soldier of the fourth regiment of the line, named Varengo, was
lodged at Indersdorff with a joiner. Varengo wished to compel his host
to pay him two florins, or four livres ten sous, per day for his
pleasures. He had no right to exact this. To succeed in making it to
his interest to comply he set himself to make a continual racket in the
house. The poor carpenter, not being able to endure it longer, resolved
to complain, but thought it prudent not to carry his complaints to the
officers of the company in which Varengo served. He knew by his own
experience, at least by that of his neighbors, that these gentlemen were
by no means accessible to complaints of this kind. He decided to address
himself to the general commanding, and set out on the road to Augsburg,
the chief place of the arrondissement.
On his arrival at the bureau of the town, he was met by the general, and
began to submit to him an account of his misfortunes; but unfortunately
the general did not know the German language, so he sent for his
interpreter, told the carpenter to explain himself, and inquired of what
he complained. Now, the general's interpreting secretary was a
quartermaster who had been attached to the general's staff since the
Peace of Presburg, and happened to be, as luck would have it, the first
cousin of this Varengo against whom the complaint was made. Without
hesitation the quartermaster, as soon as he heard his cousin's name, gave
an entirely incorrect translation of the report, assuring the general
that this peasant, although in very comfortable circumstances, disobeyed
the order of the day, in refusing to furnish fresh meat for the brave
soldier who lodged with him; and this was the origin of the disagreement
on which the complaint was based, no other motive being alleged for
demanding a change. The general was much irritated, and gave orders to
his secretary to require the peasant, under severe penalties, to furnish
fresh meat for his guest. The order was written; but instead of
submitting it to the supervision of the general, the interpreting
secretary wrote out at length that the carpenter should pay two florins
per day to Varengo. The poor fellow, having read this in German, could
not restrain a movement of anger, seeing which, the general, thinking he
had resisted the order, ordered him out, threatening him with his
riding-whip. Thus, thanks to his cousin, the interpreter, Varengo
regularly received two florins per day, which enabled him to be one of
the jolliest soldiers in his company.
The Emperor did not like duelling. He often pretended to be ignorant of
duels; but when he had to admit his knowledge of one, loudly expressed
his dissatisfaction. I recall in this connection two or three
circumstances which I shall attempt to relate.
A short time after the foundation of the Empire, a duel occurred, which
created much stir in Paris, on account of the rank of the two
adversaries. The Emperor had just authorized the formation of the
first foreign regiment which he wished to admit into the service of
France,--the regiment of Aremberg. Notwithstanding the title of this
corps, most of the officers who were admitted were French; and this was
a good opening, discreetly made, for rich and titled young men, who, in
purchasing companies by the authority of the minister of war, could thus
pass more rapidly through the first grades. Among the officers of the
Aremberg regiment, were M. Charles de Sainte-Croix, who had recently
served in the ministry of foreign affairs, and a charming young man whom
I saw often at Malmaison, M. de Mariolles, who was nearly related to the
Empress Josephine. It seems that the same position had been promised
both, and they resolved to settle the dispute by private combat. M. de
Mariolles fell, and died on the spot, and his death created
consternation among the ladies of the salon at Malmaison.
His family and relations united in making complaint to the Emperor, who
was very indignant, and spoke of sending M. de Sainte-Croix to the Temple
prison and having him tried for murder. He prudently concealed himself
during the first outburst over this affair; and the police, who were put
on his track, would have had much difficulty in finding him, as he was
especially protected by M. Fouche, who had recently re-entered the
ministry, and was intimately connected with his mother, Madame de
Sainte-Croix. Everything ended with the threats of his Majesty; since
M. Fouche had remarked to him that by such unaccustomed severity the
malevolent would not fail to say that he was performing less an act of
sovereignty than one of personal vengeance, as the victim had the honor
of being connected with himself.
The affair was thus suffered to drop; and I am here struck with the
manner in which one recollection leads on to another, for I remember that
in process of time the Emperor became much attached to M. de
Sainte-Croix, whose advancement in the army was both brilliant and
rapid; since, although he entered the service when twenty-two years of
age, he was only twenty-eight when he was killed in Spain, being already
then general of division. I often saw M. de Sainte-Croix at the
Emperor's headquarters. I think I see him still, small, delicate, with
an attractive countenance, and very little beard. He might have been
taken for a young woman, rather than the brave young soldier he was;
and, in fact, his features were so delicate, his cheeks so rosy, his
blond hair curled in such natural ringlets, that when the Emperor was in
a good humor he called him nothing but Mademoiselle de Sainte-Croix!
Another circumstance which I should not omit is a duel which took place
at Burgos, in 1808, between General Franceschi, aide-de-camp to King
Joseph, and Colonel Filangieri, colonel of his guard, both of whom were
equerries of his Majesty. The subject of the quarrel was almost the same
as that between M. de Mariolles and de Sainte-Croix; since both disputed
for the position of first equerry to King Joseph, both maintaining that
it had been promised them.
We had hardly been in the palace of Burgos five minutes when the Emperor
was informed of this duel, which had taken place almost under the walls
of the palace itself, and only a few hours before. The Emperor learned
at the same time that General Franceschi had been killed, and on account
of the difference in their rank, in order not to compromise military
etiquette, they had fought in their uniforms of equerry. The Emperor was
struck with the fact that the first news he received was bad news; and
with his ideas of fatality, this really excited a great influence over
him. He gave orders to have Colonel Filangieri found and brought to him,
and he came in a few moments. I did not see him, as I was in another
apartment; but the Emperor spoke to him in so loud and sharp a tone that
I heard distinctly all he said. "Duels! duels! always duels!" cried
the Emperor. "I will not allow it. I will punish it! You know how I
abhor them!"--"Sire, have me tried if you will, but hear me."--"What can
you have to say to me, you crater of Vesuvius? I have already pardoned
your affair with Saint Simon; I will not do the like again. Moreover, I
cannot, at the very beginning of the campaign, when all should be
thoroughly united! It produces a most unfortunate effect!" Here the
Emperor kept silence a moment; then he resumed, although in a somewhat
sharper tone: "Yes! you have a head of Vesuvius. See what a fine
condition of affairs I arrive and find blood in my palace!" After
another pause, and in a somewhat calmer tone: "See what you have done!
Joseph needs good officers; and here you have deprived him of two by a
single blow,--Franceschi, whom you have killed, and yourself, who can no
longer remain in his service." Here the Emperor was silent for some
moments, and then added: "Now retire, leave! Give yourself up as a
prisoner at the citadel of Turin. There await my orders, or rather place
yourself in Murat's hands; he will know what to do with you; he also has
Vesuvius in his head, and he will give you a warm welcome. Now take
yourself off at once."
Colonel Filangieri needed no urging, I think, to hasten the execution of
the Emperor's orders. I do not know the conclusion of thus adventure;
but I do know that the affair affected his Majesty deeply, for that
evening when I was undressing him he repeated several times, "Duels!
What a disgraceful thing! It is the kind of courage cannibals have!"
If, moreover; the Emperor's anger was softened on this occasion, it was
on account of his affection for young Filangieri; at first on account of
his father, whom the Emperor highly esteemed, and also, because the young
man having been educated at his expense, at the French Prytanee, he
regarded him as one of his children by adoption, especially since he knew
that M. Filangieri, godson of the queen of Naples, had refused a
regiment, which the latter had offered him while he was still only a
simple lieutenant in the Consular Guard, and further, because he had not
consented to become a Neapolitan again until a French prince had been
called to the throne of Naples.
What remains to be said on the subject of duels under the Empire, and the
Emperor's conduct regarding them which came to my knowledge, somewhat
resembles the little piece which is played on the theater after a
tragedy. I will now relate how it happened that the Emperor himself
played the role of peacemaker between two sub-officers who were enamored
of the same beauty.
When the French army occupied Vienna, some time after the battle of
Austerlitz, two sub-officers belonging to the forty-sixth and fiftieth
regiments of the line, having had a dispute, determined to fight a duel,
and chose for the place of combat a spot situated at the extremity of a
plain which adjoined the palace of Schoenbrunn, the Emperor's place of
residence. Our two champions had already unsheathed and exchanged blows
with their short swords, which happily each had warded off, when the
Emperor happened to pass near them, accompanied by several generals.
Their stupefaction at the sight of the Emperor may be imagined. Their
arms fell, so to speak; from their hands.
The Emperor inquired the cause of their quarrel, and learned that a woman
who granted her favors to both was the real motive, each of them desiring
to have no rival.
These two champions found by chance that they were known to one of the
generals who accompanied his Majesty, and informed him that they were two
brave soldiers of Marengo and Austerlitz, belonging to such and such
regiments, whose names had already been put on the list for the Cross of
Honor; whereupon the Emperor addressed them after this style: "My
children, woman is capricious, as fortune is also; and since you are
soldiers of Marengo and Austerlitz, you need to give no new proofs of
your courage. Return to your corps, and be friends henceforth, like good
knights." These two soldiers lost all desire to fight, and soon
perceived that their august peacemaker had not forgotten them, as they
promptly received the Cross of the Legion of Honor.
In the beginning of the campaign of Tilsit, the Emperor, being at Berlin,
one day took a fancy to make an excursion on foot to the quarter where
our soldiers in the public houses indulged in the pleasures of the dance.
He saw a quartermaster of the cavalry of his guard walking with a coarse,
rotund German woman, and amused himself listening to the gallant remarks
made by this quartermaster to his beautiful companion. "Let us enjoy
ourselves, my dear," said he; "it is the 'tondu' who pays the musicians
with the 'kriches' of your sovereign. Let us take our own gait; long
live joy! and forward"--"Not so fast," said the Emperor, approaching
him. "Certainly it must always be forward, but wait till I sound the
charge." The quartermaster turned and recognized the Emperor, and,
without being at all disconcerted, put his hand to his shako, and said,
"That is useless trouble. Your Majesty does not need to beat a drum to
make us move." This repartee made the Emperor smile, and soon after
gained epaulets for the sub-officer, who perhaps might have waited a long
while except for this fancy of his Majesty. But, at all events, if
chance sometimes contributed thus to the giving of rewards, they were
never given until after he had ascertained that those on whom he bestowed
them were worthy.
At Eylau provisions failed; for a week, the bread supply being exhausted,
the soldiers fed themselves as they could. The evening before the first
attack, the Emperor, who wished to examine everything himself, made a
tour of the bivouacs, and reaching one where all the men were asleep, saw
some potatoes cooking, took a fancy to eat them, and undertook to draw
them out of the fire with the point of his sword. Instantly a soldier
awoke, and seeing some one usurping part of his supper, "I say, you are
not very ceremonious, eating our potatoes!"--"My comrade, I am so hungry
that you must excuse me."--"Well, take one or two then, if that is the
case; but get off." But as the Emperor made no haste in getting off, the
soldier insisted more strongly, and soon a heated discussion arose
between him and the Emperor. From words they were about to come to
blows, when the Emperor thought it was time to make himself known. The
soldier's confusion was indescribable. He had almost struck the Emperor.
He threw himself at his Majesty's feet, begging his pardon, which was
most readily granted. "It was I who was in the wrong," said the Emperor;
"I was obstinate. I bear you no illwill; rise and let your mind be at
rest, both now and in the future."
The Emperor, having made inquiries concerning this soldier, learned that
he was a good fellow, and not unintelligent. On the next promotion he
was made sub-lieutenant. It is impossible to give an idea of the effect
of such occurrences on the army. They were a constant subject of
conversation with the soldiers, and stimulated them inexpressibly. The
one who enjoyed the greatest distinction in his company was he of whom it
could be said: "The Emperor has spoken to him."
At the battle of Essling the brave General Daleim, commanding a division
of the fourth corps, found himself during the hottest part of the action
at a spot swept by the enemy's artillery. The Emperor, passing near him,
said: "It is warm in your locality!"--"Yes, Sire; permit me to extinguish
the fire."--"Go." This one word sufficed; in the twinkling of an eye the
terrible battery was taken. In the evening the Emperor, seeing General
Daleim, approached him, and said, "It seems you only had to blow on it."
His Majesty alluded General Daleim's habit of incessant whistling.
Among the brave general officers around the Emperor, a few were not
highly educated, though their other fine qualities recommended them; some
were celebrated for other reasons than their military merit. Thus
General Junot and General Fournier were known as the best pistol shots;
General Lasellette was famous for his love of music, which he indulged to
such an extent as to have a piano always in one of his baggage wagons.
This general drank only water; but, on the contrary, it was very
different with General Bisson. Who has not heard of the hardest drinker
in all the army? One day the Emperor, meeting him at Berlin, said to
him, "Well, Bisson, do you still drink much?"--"Moderately, Sire; not
more than twenty-five bottles." This was, in fact, a great improvement,
for he had more than once reached the number of forty without being made
tipsy. Moreover, with General Bisson it was not a vice, but an imperious
need. The Emperor knowing this, and being much attached to him, allowed
him a pension of twelve thousand francs out of his privy purse, and gave
him besides frequent presents.
Among the officers who were not very well educated, we may be permitted
to mention General Gros; and the manner in which he was promoted to the
grade of general proves this fact. But his bravery was equal to every
proof, and he was a superb specimen of masculine beauty. The pen alone
was an unaccustomed weapon to him, and he could hardly use it to sign his
name; and it was said that he was not much more proficient in reading.
Being colonel of the guard, he found himself one day alone at the
Tuileries in an apartment where he waited until the Emperor could be
seen. There he delighted himself with observing his image reflected in
the glass, and readjusting his cravat; and the admiration he felt at his
own image led him to converse aloud with himself or rather with his
reflection. "Ah!" said he, "if you only knew 'bachebachiques'
(mathematics), such a man as you, with a soldier's heart like yours, ah!
the Emperor would make you a general!"--"You are one," said the Emperor,
striking him on the shoulder. His Majesty had entered the saloon without
being heard, and had amused himself with listening to the conversation
Colonel Gros had carried on with himself. Such were the circumstances of
his promotion to the rank of general, and what is more to be a general in
the guard.
I have now arrived at the end of my list of military anecdotes. I have
just spoken of a general's promotion, and will close with the story of a
simple drummer, but a drummer renowned throughout the army as a perfect
buffoon, in fact, the famous Rata, to whom General Gros, as we shall see;
was deeply attached.
The army marched on Lintz during the campaign of 1809. Rata, drummer of
the grenadiers of the fourth regiment of the line, and famous as a
buffoon, having learned that the guard was to pass, and that it was
commanded by General Gros; desired to see this officer who had been his
chief of battalion, and with whom he had formerly taken all sorts of
liberties. Rata thereupon waged his mustache, and went to salute the
general, addressing him thus: "Ah, here you are, General. How are you?"
--"Very well, indeed, Rata; and you?"--"Always well, but not so well as
you, it seems to me. Since you are doing so very well, you no longer
think of poor Rata; for if he did not come to see you, you would not even
think of sending him a few sous to buy tobacco." While saying, "You do
so well," Rata had quickly seized General Gross hat, and put it on his
head in place of his own. At this moment the Emperor passed, and seeing
a drummer wearing the hat of a general of his guard, he could hardly
believe his eyes. He spurred up his horse, and inquired the cause.
General Gros then said, laughing, and in the frank speech he so often
used even to the Emperor, "It is a brave soldier from my old battalion,
accustomed to play pranks to amuse his comrades. He is a brave fellow,
Sire, and every inch a man, and I recommend him to your Majesty.
Moreover, Sire, he can himself do more than a whole park of artillery.
Come, Rata, give us a broad side, and no quarter." The Emperor listened,
and observed almost stupefied what was passing under his very eyes, when
Rata, in no wise intimidated by the presence of the Emperor, prepared to
execute the general's order; then, sticking his finger in his mouth, he
made a noise like first the whistling and then the bursting of a shell.
The imitation was so perfect that the Emperor was compelled to laugh, and
turning to General Gros, said, "Come, take this man this very evening
into the guard, and remind me of him on the next occasion." In a short
while Rata had the cross, which those who threw real shells at the enemy
often had not; so largely does caprice enter into the destiny of men!
L'ENVOI.
(BY THE EDITOR OF THE FRENCH EDITION OF 1830.)
The life of any one who has played a distinguished part offers many
points of view, the number of which increases in proportion to the
influence he has wielded upon the movement of events. This has been
greater in the case of Napoleon than of any other personage in history.
The product of an era of convulsions, in all of whose changes he took
part, and which he at last closed by subjecting all ideas under a rule,
which at one time promised to be lasting, he, like Catiline, requires a
Sallust; like Charlemagne, an Eginhard; and like Alexander, a Quintus
Curtius. M. de Bourrienne has, indeed, after the manner of Commines,
shown him to us undisguised in his political manipulations and in the
private life of his Court. This is a great step towards a knowledge of
his individuality, but it is not enough. It is in a thorough
acquaintance with his private life that this disillusioned age will find
the secret springs of the drama of his marvelous career. The great men
of former ages were veiled from us by a cloud of prejudice which even the
good sense of Plutarch scarcely penetrated. Our age, more analytical and
freer from illusions, in the great man seeks to find the individual. It
is by this searching test that the present puts aside all illusions, and
that the future will seek to justify its judgments. In the council of
state, the statesman is in his robe, on the battlefield the warrior is
beneath his armor, but in his bedchamber, in his undress, we find the
man.
It has been said that no man is, a hero to his valet. It would give wide
latitude to a witty remark, which has become proverbial, to make it the
epigraph of these memoirs. The valet of a hero by that very fact is
something more than a valet. Amber is only earth, and Bologna stone only
a piece of rock; but the first gives out the perfume of the rose, and the
other flashes the rays of the sun. The character of a witness is
dignified by the solemnity of the scene and the greatness of the actor.
Even before reading the manuscript of M. Constant, we were strongly
persuaded that impressions so unusual and so striking would raise him to
the level of the occasion.
The reader can now judge of this for himself. These are the memoirs of
M. Constant,--autographic memoirs of one still living, who has written
them to preserve his recollections. It is the private history, the
familiar life, the leisure moments, passed in undress, of Napoleon, which
we now present to the public. It is Napoleon taken without a mask,
deprived of his general's sword, the consular purple, the imperial
crown,--Napoleon resting from council and from battle, forgetful of power
and of conquest, Napoleon unbending himself, going to bed, sleeping the
slumber of a common man, as if the world did not hang upon his dreams.
These are striking facts, so natural and of such simplicity, that though
a biased judgment may, perhaps, exaggerate their character, and amplify
their importance, they will furnish to an impartial and reflective mind a
wealth of evidence far superior to the vain speculations of the
imagination or the prejudiced judgments of political parties.
In this light the author of these memoirs is not an author, but simply a
narrator, who has seen more closely and intimately than any one else the
Master of the West, who was for fifteen years his master also; and what
he has written he has seen with his own eyes.
ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS:
Death is only asleep without dreams
Excessive desire to oblige
Rubbings with eau de Cologne, his favorite remedy
There are saber strokes enough for every one
His Majesty did not converse: he spoke
Little gifts preserve friendship
She feared to be distracted from her grief
Act with our allies as if they were afterwards to be our enemies
As was his habit, criticised more than he praised
The friendship of a great man is a gift from the gods
You have given me your long price, now give me your short one
Fear of being suspected of cowardice was beneath them
Like all great amateurs was hard to please
Self-appointed connoisseurs
Trying to alleviate her sorrow by sharing it
You were made to give lessons, not to take them
Age in which one breathes well only after resting
All orders given by his Majesty were short, precise
Living ever in the future
Necessity is ever ready with inventions
Power of thus isolating one's self completely from all the world
A sad sort of consolation that is drawn from reprisals
Borrowing, which uses up the resources of the future
For a retreating enemy it is necessary to make a bridge of gold
Make a bridge of gold, or oppose a wall of brass
Paper money, which is the greatest enemy of social order
Rise and decline of stocks was with him the real thermometer
The more I concede the more they demand
Most charming mistresses and the worst wives
No man is, a hero to his valet
The pear was ripe; but who was to gather it?