After the 12th of April there remained with the Emperor, of all the great
personages who usually surrounded him, only the grand marshal of the
palace and Count Drouot. The destination reserved for the Emperor, and
the fact that he had accepted it, was not long a secret in the palace.
On the 16th we witnessed the arrival of the commissioners of the allies
deputed to accompany his Majesty to the place of his embarkment for the
Island of Elba. These were Count Schuwaloff, aide-de-camp of the Emperor
Alexander from Russia; Colonel Neil Campbell from England; General
Kohler from Austria; and finally Count of Waldburg-Truchsess for Prussia.
Although his Majesty had himself demanded that he should be accompanied
by these four commissioners, their presence at Fontainebleau seemed to
make a most disagreeable impression on him. However, each of these
gentlemen received from the Emperor a different welcome; and after a few
words that I heard his Majesty say, I was convinced on this, as on many
previous occasions, that he esteemed the English far more than all his
other enemies, and Colonel Campbell was, therefore, welcomed with more
distinction than the other ministers; while the ill-humor of the Emperor
vented itself especially on the commissioner of the King of Prussia, who
took no notice of it, and put on the best possible countenance.
With the exception of the very slight apparent change made at
Fontainebleau by the presence of these gentlemen, no remarkable incident,
none at least in my knowledge, came to disturb the sad and monotonous
life of the Emperor in the palace. Everything remained gloomy and silent
among the inhabitants of this last imperial residence; but, nevertheless,
the Emperor personally seemed to me more calm since he had come to a
definite conclusion than at the time he was wavering in painful
indecision. He spoke sometimes in my presence of the Empress and his
son, but not as often as might have been expected. But one thing which
struck me deeply was, that never a single time did a a word escape his
lips which could recall the act of desperation of the night of the 11th,
which fortunately, as we have seen, had not the fatal results we feared.
What a night! What a night! In my whole life since I have never been
able to think of it without shuddering.
After the arrival of the commissioners of the allied powers, the Emperor
seemed by degrees to acclimate himself, so to speak, to their presence;
and the chief occupation of the whole household consisted of duties
relating to our preparations for departure. One day, as I was dressing
his Majesty, he said to me smiling, "Ah, well, my son, prepare your cart;
we will go and plant our cabbages." Alas! I was very far from thinking,
as I heard these familiar words of his Majesty, that by an inconceivable
concurrence of events, I should be forced to yield to an inexplicable
fatality, which did not will that in spite of my ardent desire I should
accompany the Emperor to his place of exile.
The evening before the day fixed for our departure the grand marshal of
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.