1804.
The events of 1804--Death of the Due d'Enghien--Napoleon's arguments
at St. Helena--Comparison of dates--Possibility of my having saved
the Due d'Enghien's life--Advice given to the Duc d'Enghien--Sir
Charles Stuart--Delay of the Austrian Cabinet--Pichegru and the
mysterious being--M. Massias--The historians of St. Helena--
Bonaparte's threats against the emigrants and M. Cobentzel--
Singular adventure of Davoust's secretary--The quartermaster--
The brigand of La Vendee.
In order to form a just idea of the events which succeeded each other so
rapidly at the commencement of 1804 it is necessary to consider them both
separately and connectedly. It must be borne in mind that all
Bonaparte's machinations tended to one object, the foundation of the
French Empire in his favour; and it is also essential to consider how the
situation of the emigrants, in reference to the First Consul, had changed
since the declaration of war. As long as Bonaparte continued at peace
the cause of the Bourbons had no support in foreign Cabinets, and the
emigrants had no alternative but to yield to circumstances; but on the
breaking out of a new war all was changed. The cause of the Bourbons
became that of the powers at war with France; and as many causes
concurred to unite the emigrants abroad with those who had returned but
half satisfied, there was reason to fear something from their revolt, in
combination with the powers arrayed against Bonaparte.
Such was the state of things with regard to the emigrants when the
leaders and accomplices of Georges' conspiracy were arrested at the very
beginning of 1804. The assassination of the Due d'Enghien
--[Louis Antoine Henri de Bourbon, Duc d'Enghien (1772-1804), son of
the Duc de Bourbon, and grandson of the Prince de Conde, served
against France in the army of Conde. When this force was disbanded
he stayed at Ettenheim on account of a love affair with the
Princesse Charlotte de Rohan-Rochefort. Arrested in the territory
of Baden, he was taken to Vincennes, and after trial by court-
martial shot is the moat, 21st May 1804. With him practically ended
the house of Bourbon-Conde as his grandfather died in 1818, leaving
only the Duc de Bourbon, and the Princesee Louise Adelaide, Abbesse
de Remiremont, who died in 1824.]--
took place on the 21st of March; on the 30th of April appeared the
proposition of the Tribunate to found a Government in France under the
authority of one individual; on the 18th of May came the 'Senatus-
consulte', naming Napoleon Bonaparte EMPEROR, and lastly, on the 10th.
of June, the sentence of condemnation on Georges and his accomplices.
Thus the shedding of the blood of a Bourbon, and the placing of the crown
of France on the head of a soldier of fortune were two acts interpolated
in the sanguinary drama of Georges' conspiracy. It must be remembered,
too, that during the period of these events we were at war with England,
and on the point of seeing Austria and the Colossus of the north form a
coalition against the new Emperor.
I will now state all I know relative to the death of the Due d'Enghien.
That unfortunate Prince, who was at Ettenheim, in consequence of a love
affair, had no communication whatever with those who were concocting a
plot in the interior. Machiavelli says that when the author of a crime
cannot be discovered we should seek for those to whose advantage it
turns. In the present case Machiavelli's advice will find an easy
application, since the Duke's death could be advantageous only to
Bonaparte, who considered it indispensable to his accession to the crown
of France. The motives may be explained, but can they be justified?
How could it ever be said that the Due d'Enghien perished as a presumed
accomplice in the conspiracy of Georges?
Moreau was arrested on the 15th of February 1804, at which time the
existence of the conspiracy was known. Pichegru and Georges were also
arrested in February, and the Due d'Enghien not till the 15th of March.
Now if the Prince had really been concerned in the plot, if even he had a
knowledge of it, would he have remained at Ettenheim for nearly a month
after the arrest of his presumed accomplices, intelligence of which he
might have obtained in the space of three days? Certainly not. So
ignorant was he of that conspiracy that when informed at Ettenheim of
the affair he doubted it, declaring that if it were true his father and
grandfather would have made him acquainted with it. Would so long an
interval have been suffered to elapse before he was arrested? Alas!
cruel experience has shown that that step would have been taken in a few
hours.
The sentence of death against Georges and his accomplices was not
pronounced till the 10th of June 1804, and the Due d'Enghien was shot on
the 21st of March, before the trials were even commenced. How is this
precipitation to be explained? If, as Napoleon has declared, the young
Bourbon was an accomplice in the crime, why was he not arrested at the
time the others were? Why was he not tried along with them, on the
ground of his being an actual accomplice; or of being compromised, by
communications with them; or, in short, because his answers might have
thrown light on that mysterious affair? How was it that the name of the
illustrious accused was not once mentioned in the course of that awful
trial?
It can scarcely be conceived that Napoleon could say at St. Helena,
"Either they contrived to implicate the unfortunate Prince in their
project, and so pronounced his doom, or, by omitting to inform him of
what was going on, allowed him imprudently to slumber on the brink of a
precipice; for he was only a stone's cast from the frontier when they
were about to strike the great blow in the name and for the interest of
his family."
This reasoning is not merely absurd, it is atrocious. If the Duke was
implicated by the confession of his accomplices, he should have been
arrested and tried along with them. Justice required this. If he was
not so implicated, where is the proof of his guilt? Because some
individuals, without his knowledge, plotted to commit a crime in the name
of his family he was to be shot! Because he was 130 leagues from the
scene of the plot, and had no connection with it, he was to die! Such
arguments cannot fail to inspire horror. It is absolutely impossible any
reasonable person can regard the Due d'Enghien as an accomplice of
Cadoudal; and Napoleon basely imposed on his contemporaries and posterity
by inventing such falsehoods, and investing them with the authority of
his name.
Had I been then in the First Consul's intimacy I may aver, with as much
confidence as pride, that the blood of the Due d'Enghien would not have
imprinted an indelible stain on the glory of Bonaparte. In this terrible
matter I could have done what no one but me could even attempt, and this
on account of my position, which no one else has since held with
Bonaparte. I quite admit that he would have preferred others to me, and
that he would have had more friendship for them than for me, supposing
friendship to be compatible with the character of Bonaparte, but I knew
him better than any one else. Besides, among those who surrounded him I
alone could have permitted myself some return to our former familiarity
on account of our intimacy of childhood. Certainly, in a matter which
permanently touched the glory of Bonaparte, I should not have been
restrained by the fear of some transitory fit of anger, and the reader
has seen that I did not dread disgrace. Why should I have dreaded it?
I had neither portfolio, nor office, nor salary, for, as I have said, I
was only with Bonaparte as a friend, and we had, as it were, a common
purse. I feel a conviction that it would have been very possible for me
to have dissuaded Bonaparte from his fatal design, inasmuch as I
positively know that his object, after the termination of the peace, was
merely to frighten the emigrants, in order to drive them from Ettenheim,
where great numbers, like the Due d'Enghien, had sought refuge. His
anger was particularly directed against a Baroness de Reith and a
Baroness d'Ettengein, who had loudly vituperated him, and distributed
numerous libels on the left bank of the Rhine. At that period Bonaparte
had as little design against the Due d'Enghien's life as against that of
any other emigrant. He was more inclined to frighten than to harm him,
and certainly his first intention was not to arrest the Prince, but,
as I have said, to frighten the 'emigres', and to drive them to a
distance. I must, however, admit that when Bonaparte spoke to Rapp and
Duroc of the emigrants on the other side of the Rhine he expressed
himself with much irritability: so much so, indeed, that M. de
Talleyrand, dreading its effects for the Due d'Enghien, warned that
Prince, through the medium of a lady to whom he was attached, of his
danger, and advised him to proceed to a greater distance from the
frontier. On receiving this notice the Prince resolved to rejoin his
grandfather, which he could not do but by passing through the Austrian
territory. Should any doubt exist as to these facts it may be added that
Sir Charles Stuart wrote to M. de Cobentzel to solicit a passport for the
Duc d'Enghien; and it was solely owing to the delay of the Austrian
Cabinet that time was afforded for the First Consul to order the arrest
of the unfortunate Prince as soon as he had formed the horrible
resolution of shedding the blood of a Bourbon. This resolution could
have originated only with himself, for who would have dared to suggest it
to him? The fact is, Bonaparte knew not what he did. His fever of
ambition amounted to delirium; and he knew not how he was losing himself
in public opinion because he did not know that opinion, to gain which he
would have made every sacrifice.
When Cambaceres (who, with a slight reservation, had voted the death of
Louis XVI.) warmly opposed in the Council the Duc d'Enghien's arrest, the
First Consul observed to him, "Methinks, Sir, you have grown very chary
of Bourbon blood!"
Meanwhile the Due d'Enghien was at Ettenheim, indulging in hope rather
than plotting conspiracies. It is well known that an individual made an
offer to the Prince de Conde to assassinate the First Consul, but the
Prince indignantly rejected the proposition, and nobly refused to recover
the rights of the Bourbons at the price of such a crime. The individual
above-mentioned was afterwards discovered to be an agent of the Paris
police, who had been commissioned to draw the Princes into a plot which
would have ruined them, for public feeling revolts at assassination under
any circumstances.
It has been alleged that Louis XVIII.'s refusal to treat with Bonaparte
led to the fatal catastrophe of the Due d'Enghien's death. The first
correspondence between Louis XVIII. and the First Consul, which has been
given in these Memoirs, clearly proves the contrary. It is certainly
probable that Louis XVIII.'s refusal to renounce his rights should have
irritated Bonaparte. But it was rather late to take his revenge two
years after, and that too on a Prince totally ignorant of those
overtures. It is needless to comment on such absurdities. It is equally
unnecessary to speak of the mysterious being who often appeared at
meetings in the Faubourg St. Germain, and who was afterwards discovered
to be Pichegru.
A further light is thrown on this melancholy catastrophe by a
conversation Napoleon had, a few days after his elevation to the imperial
throne, with M. Masaias, the French Minister at the Court of the Grand
Duke of Baden. This conversation took place at Aix-la-Chapelle. After
some remarks on the intrigues of the emigrants Bonaparte observed, "You
ought at least to have prevented the plots which the Due d'Enghien was
hatching at Ettenheim."--"Sire, I am too old to learn to tell a
falsehood. Believe me, on this subject your Majesty's ear has been
abused."--"Do you not think, then, that had the conspiracy of Georges and
Pichegru proved successful, the Prince would have passed the Rhine, and
have come post to Paris?"
M. Massias, from whom I had these particulars, added, "At this last
question of the Emperor I hung down my head and was silent, for I saw he
did not wish to hear the truth."
Now let us consider, with that attention which the importance of the
subject demands, what has been said by the historians of St. Helena.
Napoleon said to his companions in exile that "the Due d'Enghien's death
must be attributed either to an excess of zeal for him (Napoleon), to
private views, or to mysterious intrigues. He had been blindly urged on;
he was, if he might say so, taken by surprise. The measure was
precipitated, and the result predetermined."
This he might have said; but if he did so express himself, how are we to
reconcile such a declaration with the statement of O'Meara? How give
credit to assertions so very opposite?
Napoleon said to M. de Las Casas:
"One day when alone, I recollect it well, I was taking my coffee,
half seated on the table at which I had just dined, when suddenly
information was brought to me that a new conspiracy had been
discovered. I was warmly urged to put an end to these enormities;
they represented to me that it was time at last to give a lesson to
those who had been day after day conspiring against my life; that
this end could only be attained by shedding the blood of one of
them; and that the Due d'Enghien, who might now be convicted of
forming part of this new conspiracy, and taken in the very act,
should be that one. It was added that he had been seen at
Strasburg; that it was even believed that he had been in Paris; and
that the plan was that he should enter France by the east at the
moment of the explosion, whilst the Due de Berri was disembarking in
the west. I should tell you," observed the Emperor, "that I did not
even know precisely who the Due d'Enghien was (the Revolution having
taken place when I was yet a very young man, and I having never been
at Court), and that I was quite in the dark as to where he was at
that moment. Having been informed on those points I exclaimed that
if such were the case the Duke ought to be arrested, and that orders
should be given to that effect. Everything had been foreseen and
prepared; the different orders were already drawn up, nothing
remained to be done but to sign them, and the fate of the young
Prince was thus decided."
Napoleon next asserts that in the Duke's arrest and condemnation all the
usual forms were strictly observed. But he has also declared that the
death of that unfortunate Prince will be an eternal reproach to those
who, carried away by a criminal zeal, waited not for their Sovereign's
orders to execute the sentence of the court-martial. He would, perhaps,
have allowed the Prince to live; but yet he said, "It is true I wished to
make an example which should deter."
It has been said that the Due d'Enghien addressed a letter to Napoleon,
which was not delivered till after the execution. This is false and
absurd! How could that Prince write to Bonaparte to offer him his
services and to solicit the command of an army? His interrogatory makes
no mention of this letter, and is in direct opposition to the sentiments
which that letter would attribute to him. The truth is, no such letter
ever existed. The individual who was with the Prince declared he never
wrote it. It will never be believed that any one would have presumed to
withhold from Bonaparte a letter on which depended the fate of so august
a victim.
In his declarations to his companions in exile Napoleon endeavoured
either to free himself of this crime or to justify it. His fear or his
susceptibility was such, that in discoursing with strangers he merely
said, that had he known of the Prince's letter, which was not delivered
to him.--God knows why!--until after he had breathed his last, he would
have pardoned him. But at a subsequent date he traced, with his own
hand, his last thoughts, which he supposed would be consecrated in the
minds of his contemporaries, and of posterity. Napoleon, touching on the
subject which he felt would be one of the most important attached to his
memory, said that if the thing were to do again he would act as he then
did. How does this declaration tally with his avowal, that if he had
received the Prince's letter he should have lived? This is
irreconcilable. But if we compare all that Napoleon said at St. Helena,
and which has been transmitted to us by his faithful followers; if we
consider his contradictions when speaking of the Due d'Enghien's death to
strangers, to his friends, to the public, or to posterity, the question
ceases to be doubtful Bonaparte wished to strike a blow which would
terrify his enemies. Fancying that the Duc de Berri was ready to land in
France, he despatched his aide de camp Savary, in disguise, attended by
gendarmes, to watch the Duke's landing at Biville, near Dieppe. This
turned out a fruitless mission. The Duke was warned in time not to
attempt the useless and dangerous enterprise, and Bonaparte, enraged to
see one prey escape him, pounced upon another. It is well known that
Bonaparte often, and in the presence even of persons whom he conceived to
have maintained relations with the partisans of the Bourbons at Paris,
expressed himself thus: "I will put an end to these conspiracies. If any
of the emigrants conspire they shall be shot. I have been told that
Cobentzel harbours some of them. I do not believe this; but if it be
true, Cobentzel shall be arrested and shot along with them. I will let
the Bourbons know I am not to be trifled with." The above statement of
facts accounts for the suppositions respecting the probable influence of
the Jacobins in this affair. It has been said, not without some
appearance of reason, that to get the Jacobins to help him to ascend the
throne Bonaparte consented to sacrifice a victim of the blood royal, as
the only pledge capable of ensuring them against the return of the
proscribed family. Be this as it may, there are no possible means of
relieving Bonaparte from his share of guilt in the death of the Due
d'Enghien.
To the above facts, which came within my own knowledge, I may add the
following curious story, which was related to me by an individual who
himself heard it from the secretary of General Davoust.
Davoust was commanding a division in the camp of Boulogne, and his
secretary when proceeding thither to join him met in the diligence a man
who seemed to be absorbed in affliction. This man during the whole
journey never once broke silence but by some deep sighs, which he had not
power to repress. General Davoust's secretary observed him with
curiosity and interest, but did not venture to intrude upon his grief by
any conversation. The concourse of travellers from Paris to the camp
was, however, at that time very great, and the inn at which the diligence
stopped in the evening was so crowded that it was impossible to assign a
chamber to each traveller. Two, therefore, were put into one room, and
it so happened that the secretary was lodged with his mysterious
travelling companion.
When they were alone he addressed him in a torso of interest which
banished all appearance of intrusion. He inquired whether the cause of
his grief was of a nature to admit of any alleviation, and offered to
render him any assistance in his power. "Sir," replied the stranger,
"I am much obliged for the sympathy you express for me--I want nothing.
There is no possible consolation for me. My affliction can end only with
my life. You shall judge for yourself, for the interest you seem to take
in my misfortune fully justifies my confidence. I was quartermaster in
the select gendarmerie, and formed part of a detachment which was ordered
to Vincennes. I passed the night there under arms, and at daybreak was
ordered down to the moat with six men. An execution was to take place.
The prisoner was brought out, and I gave the word to fire. The man fell,
and after the execution I learned that we had shot the Due d'Enghien.
Judge of my horror! . . . I knew the prisoner only by the name of the
brigand of La Vendee! . . . I could no longer remain in the service
--I obtained my discharge, and am about to retire to my family. Would
that I had done so sooner!" The above has been related to me and other
persons by Davoust's secretary, whom I shall not name.