_Paris, December 7, 1801_.
At the grand monthly parade of the 15th of last Brumaire, I had seen
the First Consul chiefly on horseback: on which account, I determined
to avail myself of that of the 15th of the present month of Frimaire,
in order to obtain a nearer view of his person. On these occasions,
none but officers in complete uniform are admitted into the palace of
the _Tuileries_, unless provided with tickets, which are distributed
to a certain number at the discretion of the governor. General A----y
sent me tickets by ten o'clock this morning, and about half after
eleven, I repaired to the palace.
On reaching the vestibule from the garden of the _Tuileries_, you
ascend the grand stair-case to the left, which conducts you to the
guard-room above it in the centre pavilion. Hence you enter the
apartments of the Chief Consul.
On the days of the grand parade, the first room is destined for
officers as low as the rank of captain, and persons admitted with
tickets; the second, for field-officers; the third, for generals; and
the fourth, for councellors of state, and the diplomatic corps. To
the east, the windows of these apartments command the court-yard
where the troops are assembled; while to the west, they afford a fine
view of the garden of the _Tuileries_ and the avenue leading to the
_Barrière de Chaillot_. In the first-room, those windows which
overlook the parade were occupied by persons standing five or six in
depth, some of whom, as I was informed, had been patient enough to
retain their places for the space of two or three hours, and among
them were a few ladies. Here, a sort of lane was formed from door to
door by some grenadiers of the consular guard. I found both sides of
this lane so much crowded, that I readily accepted the invitation of
a _chef de brigade_ of my acquaintance to accompany him into the
second room; this, he observed, was no more than a privilege to which
I was entitled. This room was also crowded; but it exhibited a most
brilliant _coup d'oeil_ from the great variety and richness of the
uniforms of the field-officers here assembled, by which mine was
entirely eclipsed. The lace or embroidery is not merely confined to
the coats, jackets, and pantaloons, but extends to the sword belts,
and even to the boots, which are universally worn by the military.
Indeed, all the foreign ambassadors admit that none of the levees of
the European courts can vie in splendour with those of the Chief
Consul.
My first care on entering this room, was to place myself in a
situation which might afford me an uninterrupted view of BONAPARTE.
About twenty-five minutes past twelve, his sortie was announced by a
_huissier_. Immediately after, he came out of the inner apartment,
attended by several officers of rank, and, traversing all the other
rooms with a quick step, proceeded, uncovered, to the parade, the
order of which I have described to you in a former letter. On the
present occasion, however, it lasted longer on account of the
distribution of arms of honour, which the First Consul presents with
his own hand to those heroes who have signalized themselves in
fighting their country's battles.
This part of the ceremony, which was all that I saw of the parade
yesterday, naturally revived in my mind the following question, so
often agitated: "Are the military successes of the French the
consequences of a new system of operations and new tactics, or merely
the effect of the blind courage of a mass of men, led on by chiefs
whose resolutions were decided by presence of mind alone and
circumstances?"
The latter method of explaining their victories has been frequently
adopted, and the French generals have been reproached with lavishing
the lives of thousands for the sake of gaining unimportant
advantages, or repairing inconsiderable faults.
Sometimes, indeed, it should seem that a murderous obstinacy has
obtained them successes to which prudence had not paved the way; but,
certainly, the French can boast, too, of memorable days when talent
had traced the road to courage, when vast plans combined with
judgment, have been followed with perseverance, when resources have
been found in those awful moments in which Victory, hovering over a
field of carnage, leaves the issue of the conflict doubtful, till a
sudden thought, a ray of genius, inclines her in favour of the
general, thus inspired, and then art may be said to triumph over art,
and valour over valour.
And whence came most of these generals who have shewn this
inspiration, if I may so term it? Some, as is well known, emerged
from the schools of jurisprudence; some, from the studies of the
arts; and others, from the counting-houses of commerce, as well as
from the lowest ranks of the army. Previously to the revolution it
was not admitted, in this country at least, that such sources could
furnish men fit to be one day the arbiters of battles and of the fate
of empires. Till that period, all those Frenchmen who had
distinguished themselves in the field, had devoted themselves from
their infancy to the profession of arms, were born near the throne of
which they constituted the lustre, or in that cast who arrogated to
themselves the exclusive right of defending their country. The glory
of the soldier was not considered; and a private must have been more
than a hero to be as much remarked as a second lieutenant.
Men of reflection, seeing the old tactics fail against successful
essays, against enthusiasm whose effects are incalculable, studied
whether new ideas did not direct some new means; for it would have
been no less absurd to grant all to valour than to attribute all to
art. But to return to the main subject of my letter.
In about three quarters of an hour, BONAPARTE came back from the
parade, with the same suite as before, that is, preceded by his
aides-de-camp, and followed by the generals and field-officers of the
consular guard, the governor of the palace, the general commanding
the first military division, and him at the head of the garrison of
Paris. For my part, I scarcely saw any one but himself; BONAPARTE
alone absorbed my whole attention.
A circumstance occurred which gave me an opportunity of observing the
Chief Consul with critical minuteness. I had left the second room,
and taken my station in front of the row of gazers, close to the
folding-doors which opened into the first room, in order to see him
receive petitions and memorials. There was no occasion for BONAPARTE
to cast his eyes from side to side, like the _Grand Monarque_ coming
from mass, by way of inviting petitioners to approach him. They
presented themselves in such numbers that, after he put his hat under
his arm, both his hands were full in a moment. To enable him to
receive other petitions, he was under the necessity of delivering the
first two handfuls to his aides-de-camp. I should like to learn what
becomes of all these papers, and whether he locks them up in a little
desk of which he alone has the key, as was the practice of Lewis XIV.
When BONAPARTE approached the door of the second room, he was
effectually impeded in his progress by a lady, dressed in white, who,
throwing herself at his feet, gracefully presented to him a memorial,
which he received with much apparent courtesy; but still seemed, by
his manner, desirous to pass forward. However, the crowd was so
considerable and so intent on viewing this scene, that the
grenadiers, posted near the spot where it took place, were obliged to
use some degree of violence before they could succeed in clearing a
passage.
Of all the portraits which you and I have seen of BONAPARTE in
England, that painted by Masquerier, and exhibited in Piccadilly,
presents the greatest resemblance. But for his side-face, you may,
for twelve _sous_, here procure a perfect likeness of it at almost
every stall in the street. In short, his features are such as may, in
my opinion, be easily copied by any artist of moderate abilities.
However incompetent I may be to the task, I shall, as you desire it,
attempt to _sketch_ his person; though I doubt not that any French
_commis_, in the habit of describing people by words, might do it
greater justice.
BONAPARTE is rather below the middle size, somewhat inclined to
stoop, and thin in person; but, though of a slight make, he appears
to be muscular, and capable of fatigue; his forehead is broad, and
shaded by dark brown hair, which is cut short behind; his eyes, of
the same colour, are full, quick, and prominent; his nose is
aquiline; his chin, protuberant and pointed; his complexion, of a
yellow hue; and his cheeks, hollow. His countenance, which is of a
melancholy cast, expresses much sagacity and reflection: his manner
is grave and deliberate, but at the same time open. On the whole, his
aspect announces him to be of a temperate and phlegmatic disposition;
but warm and tenacious in the pursuit of his object, and impatient of
contradiction. Such, at least, is the judgment which I should form of
BONAPARTE from his external appearance.
While I was surveying this man of universal talent, my fancy was not
idle. First, I beheld him, flushed with ardour, directing the assault
of the _téte-de-pont_ at _Lodi_; next dictating a proclamation to the
Beys at _Cairo_, and styling himself the friend of the faithful; then
combating the ebullition of his rage on being foiled in the storming
of _Acre_ I afterwards imagined I saw him like another CROMWELL,
expelling the Council of Five Hundred at _St. Cloud_, and seizing on
the reins of government: when established in power, I viewed him,
like HANNIBAL, crossing the _Alps_, and forcing victory to yield to
him the hard-contested palm at _Marengo_; lastly, he appeared to my
imagination in the act of giving the fraternal embrace to Caprara,
the Pope's legate, and at the same time holding out to the see of
Rome the re-establishment of catholicism in France.
Voltaire says that "no man ever was a hero in the eyes of his
_valet-de-chambre_." I am curious to know whether the valet of the
First Consul be an exception to this maxim. As to BONAPARTE'S public
character, numerous, indeed, are the constructions put on it by the
voice of rumour: some ascribe to him one great man of antiquity as a
model; some, another; but many compare him, in certain respects, to
JULIUS CÆSAR, as imitators generally succeed better in copying the
failings than the good qualities of their archetypes, let us hope,
supposing this comparison to be a just one, that the Chief Consul
will, in one particular, never lose sight of the generous clemency of
that illustrious Roman--who, if any spoke bitterly against him,
deemed it sufficient to complain of the circumstance publicly, in
order to prevent them from persevering in the use of such language.
"_Acerbè loquentibus satis habuit pro concione denunciare, ne
perseverarent._"
"The character of a great man," says a French political writer, who
denies the justness of this comparison, "like the celebrated picture
of Zeuxis, can be formed only of a multitude of imitations, and it is
as little possible for the observer to find for him a single model in
history, as it was for the painter of Heraclea to discover in nature
that of the ideal beauty he was desirous of representing[1]."--"The
French revolution," observes the same author, a little farther on,
"has, perhaps, produced more than one CÆSAR, or one CROMWELL; but
they have disappeared before they have had it in their power to give
full scope to their ambition[2]." Time will decide on the truth and
impartiality of these observations of M. HAUTERIVE.
As at the last monthly parade, BONAPARTE was habited in the consular
dress, that is, a coat of scarlet velvet, embroidered with gold: he
wore jockey boots, carelessly drawn over white cotton pantaloons, and
held in his hand a cocked hat, with the national cockade only. I say
only, because all the generals wear hats trimmed with a splendid
lace, and decorated with a large, branching, tricoloured feather.
After the parade, the following, I understand, is the _étiquette_
usually observed in the palace. The Chief Consul first gives audience
to the general-officers, next to the field-officers, to those
belonging to the garrison, and to a few petitioners. He then returns
to the fourth apartment, where the counsellors of state assemble.
Being arrived there, notice is sent to the diplomatic corps, who meet
in a room on the ground-floor of the palace, called _La Salle des
Ambassadeurs_. They immediately repair to the levee-room, and, after
paying their personal respects to the First Consul, they each
introduce to him such persons, belonging to their respective nations,
as they may think proper. Several were this day presented by the
Imperial, Russian, and Danish ambassadors: the British minister, Mr.
Jackson, has not yet presented any of his countrymen nor will he, in
all probability, as he is merely a _locum tenens_. After the levee,
the Chief Consul generally gives a dinner of from one hundred and
fifty to two hundred covers, to which all those who have received
arms of honour, are invited.
Before I left the palace, I observed the lady above-mentioned, who
had presented the memorial, seated in one corner of the room, all in
tears, and betraying every mark of anxious grief: she was pale, and
with her hair dishevelled; but, though by no means handsome, her
distressed situation excited a lively interest in her favour. On
inquiry, I was informed that it was Madame Bourmont, the wife of a
Vendean chief, condemned to perpetual imprisonment for a breach of
the convention into which he had jointly entered with the agents of
the French government.
Having now accomplished my object, when the crowd was somewhat
dispersed, I retired to enjoy the fine weather by a walk in the