18th.—The Emperor continued indisposed. On his return from a drive in
the calash, he took a bath, and sent for me. He shewed a cheerfulness of
manner; and we conversed till half-past eight o’clock. He ordered dinner
in his own study; and he desired me to stay and dine with him. The
place, the tête-a-tête, the elegance of the dinner service, and the
neatness with which the table was laid out, gave me, I said, an idea of
comfort; the Emperor smiled at my observation. He asked me many
questions relative to London, my emigration, the French Princes, and the
Bishop of Arras. He himself recurred to the principal events of his
Consulship, and gave me some curious details and anecdotes on these
subjects. We then began to talk about the old and new courts of France,
&c. Many of the observations that were made would, if stated here, only
be repetitions, for I believe I have mentioned them before. Other
remarks that fell from the Emperor, and which are merely hinted at in my
manuscript, must remain for ever lost.
I will transcribe only the following particulars as new. I was
entertaining the Emperor with the anecdotes and ridiculous stories, that
were related gratuitously, no doubt, of Madame Lefèvre, who long enjoyed
the privilege of furnishing the drawing-rooms of Paris, and even the
drawing-room of the Tuileries, with a subject for quizzing. “I joined in
the ridicule,” said I, "like every body else, until one day I renounced
it for ever, on hearing an anecdote which proved her nobleness of
sentiment and goodness of heart.
"Madame Lefèvre, whose husband was once a private in the guards, and who
consequently filled a humble station in life, seemed to take pleasure in
reviving the recollection of circumstances connected with her former
station, and even in alluding to the laborious occupations which she had
been obliged to pursue. During their poverty, she and her husband had
been engaged in a domestic capacity in the family of the Marquis de
Valady, the Captain of the corps in which Lefèvre served. The Marquis,
who stood godfather to Lefèvre’s child, played a conspicuous part in the
desertion of the guards, nor was he less celebrated for his fanatical
zeal in favour of republican liberty; he was nevertheless a man of
generous sentiments. He was a member of the Convention, and he perished
because he opposed the execution of Louis XVI., publicly declaring that
he considered it as absolute murder, adding, that Louis had already been
too unfortunate as a King to render the infliction of any additional
punishment necessary.
"The wife of the Marquis on her return to France after her emigration,
immediately received the kindest offers and attentions from the family
of Lefèvre, who were then living in a style of considerable splendour.
"One day, Madame Lefèvre called upon her, and, in her usual strain of
language, said, ‘How little kindness and goodness of heart there is
among you people of quality. We, who have risen from the ranks, know our
duty better. We have just heard that M——, one of our old officers, and
your husband’s comrade, has returned from his emigration, and that he is
dying for want! How shameful this is. We were fearful of offending him
by offering him assistance; but the case is quite different with you. An
act of service on your part will be gratifying to him. Pray give him
this as coming from yourself.’ With these words, she presented to her
friend a rouleau of 100 louis, or 1000 crowns. From that moment, Sire,"
said I, “I felt no inclination to join in the jokes against Madame
Lefèvre; I no longer entertained towards her any other feeling than that
of profound respect. I eagerly advanced to take her hand whenever I met
her at the Tuileries, and I felt proud in escorting her through the
drawing-room, in spite of the sneers that were buzzing around me.”
We then related a number of traits of generosity exercised by the new
favourites of fortune towards the old ruined families. Among others, we
adverted to an instance of courtesy, perhaps somewhat far-fetched, in a
certain individual, who, being originally a private soldier, attained
the rank of Marshal, or General-in-chief, I forget which. One day,
during his newly acquired splendour, he assembled together at a family
dinner his former colonel, and four or five officers of the regiment,
whom he received in his original uniform of a private, and he addressed
his guests in the same terms which he had been in the habit of employing
before he attained his elevated rank.
“And this,” observed the Emperor, “was the only way to soften down the
fury of the times; for such acts as these must necessarily have created
mutual feelings of kindness between the opposite parties; and we may
naturally suppose that, during recent events, the persons thus obliged
will have returned the obligations they received, were it only for the
sake of being _quits_.”
This word _quits_ reminds me of a characteristic trait of the Emperor,
which must be noticed here.
A General had been guilty of irregularities in his department, which,
had they been brought before the tribunals, must have cost him his
honour, and perhaps his life. Now, this general had rendered the most
important services to Napoleon on the day of Brumaire. The Emperor sent
for, and reproached him with his misconduct. “However,” said he, “you
have laid me under obligations, which I have not forgotten. I am perhaps
about to transgress the laws, and to fail in my duty. I pardon you, Sir;
begone; but know that from this day forward we are _quits_. Take care of
yourself for the future, I shall look sharply after you.”
THE GOVERNOR OF JAVA.—DOCTOR WARDEN.—FAMILIAR CONVERSATION OF THE
EMPEROR RELATIVE TO HIS FAMILY.
19th.—Doctor Warden breakfasted with me to-day. The Governor of Java
(Sir Stamford Raffles) and his staff, who had touched at St. Helena on
their way to Europe, arrived at Longwood while we were at breakfast.
Governor Raffles was well acquainted with all the Dutch gentlemen, whom
I had seen in 1810, during my mission to Amsterdam. The Emperor told me
that he would probably receive his visitors about three or four o’clock.
In the mean time, I conversed for several hours with Doctor Warden, whom
I furnished with some explanations on historical facts relating to the
Emperor, about which I supposed he intended to write.[12]
Footnote 12:
I was sorry to find, on perusing the Doctor’s work, that he has
totally neglected the observations and corrections with which I
furnished him; and has strangely misrepresented the particulars which
I communicated.
About three o’clock the Emperor received in the garden the English
gentlemen who had come from Java. He afterwards took a drive in the
calash.
On his return, about six o’clock, he desired me to follow him to his
study. He sent for the Grand Marshal and his Lady, and conversed
familiarly, until dinner time, on various subjects relating to his
family and his minutest domestic affairs during the period of his power.
He dwelt particularly on the Empress Josephine. “They lived together,”
he said, “like a private citizen and his wife. They were most
affectionate and united, having for a long period occupied but one
chamber and one bed. These are circumstances,” said the Emperor, “which
exercise great influence over the happiness of a family, securing the
reputation of the wife and the confidence of the husband, and preserving
union and good conduct on both sides. A married couple,” continued he,
“may be said never to lose sight of one another, when they pass the
night together; otherwise they soon become estranged. Thus, as long as
this practice was continued, none of my thoughts or actions escaped the
notice of Josephine. She observed, seized, and comprehended every thing.
This circumstance was sometimes not altogether without its inconvenience
to myself and to public affairs: but, while we were at the camp of
Boulogne, a moment of ill-humour put an end to this state of things.”
Certain political events which had occurred at Vienna, together with the
report of the coalition which took place in 1805, had occupied the
attention of the First Consul throughout the whole of the day, and a
great part of the night. He retired to bed not in very good spirits, and
he found Josephine in a violent rage at his long absence. Jealousy was
the real or pretended cause of this ill-humour. Napoleon grew angry in
his turn, threw off the yoke of subjection, and could never be brought
to submit to it again. At the time of his second marriage, the Emperor
was fearful, he said, “lest Maria Louisa might exact similar obedience,
for in that case he must have yielded. It is the true right and
privilege of a wife,” he observed.
“A son by Josephine,” continued the Emperor, "would have completed my
happiness, not only in a political point of view, but as a source of
domestic felicity.
"As a political result, it would have secured to me the possession of
the throne; the French people would have been as much attached to the
son of Josephine as they were to the King of Rome; and I should not have
set my foot on an abyss covered with flowers. But how vain are all human
calculations! Who can pretend to decide what may lead to happiness or
unhappiness in this life!
"Still I cannot help believing that such a pledge of our union would
have proved a source of domestic felicity; it would have put an end to
the jealousy of Josephine, by which I was continually harassed, and
which after all was the offspring of policy rather than of sentiment.
Josephine despaired of having a child, and she in consequence looked
forward with dread to the future. She was well aware that no marriage is
perfect without children; and at the period of her second nuptials there
was no longer any probability of her becoming a mother. In proportion as
her fortunes advanced, her alarm increased. She availed herself of every
resource of medicine; and sometimes almost persuaded herself that her
remedies had proved successful. When, at length, she was compelled to
renounce all hope, she suggested to her husband the expediency of
resorting to a great political deception; and she even went so far as
directly to propose the adoption of such a measure.
"Josephine possessed in an eminent degree the taste for luxury, gaiety,
and extravagance, natural to Creoles. It was impossible to regulate her
expenditure; she was constantly in debt; and thus there was always a
grand dispute when the day of payment arrived. She was frequently known
to direct her tradesmen to send in only half their accounts. Even at the
Island of Elba, Josephine’s bills came pouring in upon me from all parts
of Italy."
Some one who knew the Empress Josephine at Martinique communicated to
the Emperor many particulars relative to her family and her youthful
days. During her childhood, it was several times predicted that she
would wear a crown. Another circumstance not less curious and remarkable
is that the phial, containing the holy oil used at the coronation of the
Kings of France, is said to have been broken by Josephine’s first
husband, General Beauharnais, who, at a moment when the tide of popular
favour was running against him, hoped by this act to gain
reputation.[13]
Footnote 13:
This story is positively contradicted. It appears that a fondness for
the marvellous produced this fable.
A thousand stories have been told and written respecting the marriage of
Napoleon and Josephine. The campaigns of Italy explain the circumstance
that first brought about their acquaintance and their union. After
Vendemiaire, Eugène, who was yet a child, presented himself to General
Bonaparte, then General-in-chief of the army of the Interior, to request
that his father’s sword might be restored to him. Lemarrois, one of
Napoleon’s aides-de-camp, introduced the boy, who, the moment he beheld
the sword, burst into tears. The General-in-chief was moved by this
incident, and loaded the boy with caresses. When Eugène described the
manners of the young General to his mother, she lost no time in
introducing herself to him. “It is well known,” said the Emperor, "that
she put faith in presentiments and prophecies. In her childhood, some
fortuneteller had predicted that she would attain splendid rank, and
would even ascend a throne. She moreover possessed a considerable share
of art; and, after we became acquainted, she frequently assured me that
her heart beat when she first heard Eugène describe me, and that she
then caught a glimpse of her future greatness and the accomplishment of
the prophecies respecting her fate.
“Another peculiar shade in the character of Josephine,” said the
Emperor, “was her constant habit of negation. At all times, and whatever
question I put to her, her first movement was negative, her first answer
_No_; and this _no_,” continued the Emperor, “was not precisely a
falsehood, but merely a precaution, or a defence.”—"This," observed
Madame Bertrand, “is a characteristic distinction between our sex and
yours.”—"But, after all, Madam," resumed the Emperor, "this distinction
arises only from the difference of education. You love, and you are
taught to say _no_; we, on the contrary, take a pride in declaring that
we love, whether we really do or not. This is the whole course of the
opposite conduct of the two sexes. We are not, and never can be,
similar.
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