M. Czernischeff--Dissimulation of Napoleon--Napoleon and Alexander--
Josephine's foresight respecting the affairs of Spain--My visits to
Malmaison--Grief of Josephine--Tears and the toilet--Vast extent of
the Empire--List of persons condemned to death and banishment in
Piedmont--Observation of Alfieri respecting the Spaniards--Success
in Spain--Check of Massena in Portugal--Money lavished by the
English--Bertrand sent to Illyria, and Marmont to Portugal--
Situation of the French army--Assembling of the Cortes--Europe
sacrificed to the Continental system--Conversation with Murat in the
Champs Elysees--New titles and old names--Napoleon's dislike of
literary men--Odes, etc., on the marriage of Napoleon--Chateaubriand
and Lemereier--Death of Chenier--Chateaubriand elected his successor
--His discourse read by Napoleon--Bonaparte compared to Nero-
Suppression of the 'Merceure'--M. de Chateaubriand ordered to leave
Paris--MM. Lemercier and Esmenard presented to the Emperor--Birth of
the King of Rome--France in 1811.
Since my return to France I had heard much of the intrigues of M.
Czernischeff, an aide de camp of the Emperor of Russia, who, under the
pretest of being frequently sent to compliment Napoleon on the part of
the Emperor Alexander, performed, in fact, the office of a spy. The
conduct of Napoleon with regard to M. Czernischeff at that period struck
me as singular, especially after the intelligence which before my
departure from Hamburg I had transmitted to him respecting the
dissatisfaction of Russia and her hostile inclinations. It is therefore
clear to me that Bonaparte was well aware of the real object of M.
Czernischeffs mission, and that if he appeared to give credit to the
increasing professions of his friendship it was only because he still
wished, as he formerly did; that Russia might so far commit herself as to
afford him a fair pretext for the commencement, of hostilities in the
north.
M. Czernischeff first arrived in Paris shortly after the interview at
Erfurt, and after that period was almost constantly on the road between
Paris and St. Petersburg; it has been computed that in the space of less
than four years he travelled more than 10,000 leagues. For a long time
his frequent journeyings excited no surmises, but while I was in Paris
Savary began to entertain suspicions, the correctness of which it was not
difficult to ascertain, so formidable was still the system of espionage,
notwithstanding the precaution taken by Fouche to conceal from his
successor the names of his most efficient spies. It was known that M.
Czernischeff was looking out for a professor of mathematics,--doubtless
to disguise the real motives for his stay in Paris by veiling them under
the desire of studying the sciences. The confidant of Alexander had
applied to a professor connected with a public office; and from that time
all the steps of M. Czermseheff were known to the police. It was
discovered that he was less anxious to question his instructor respecting
the equations of a degree, or the value of unknown quantities, than to
gain all the information he could about the different branches of the
administration, and particularly the department of war. It happened that
the professor knew some individuals employed in the public offices, who
furnished him with intelligence, which he in turn communicated to M.
Czernischeff, but not without making a report of it to the police;
according to custom, instead of putting an end to this intrigue at once
it was suffered fully to develop itself. Napoleon was informed of what
was going on, and in this instance gave a new proof of his being an adept
in the art of dissimulation, for, instead of testifying any displeasure
against M. Czernischeff, he continued to receive him with the same marks
of favour which he had shown to him during his former missions to Paris.
Being, nevertheless, desirous to get rid of him, without evincing a
suspicion that his clandestine proceedings had been discovered, he
entrusted him with a friendly letter to his brother of Russia, but
Alexander was in such haste to reply to the flattering missive of his
brother of France that M. Czernischeff was hurried back to Paris, having
scarcely been suffered to enter the gates of St. Petersburg. I believe I
am correct in the idea that Napoleon was not really displeased at the
intrigues of M. Czernischeff, from the supposition that they afforded an
indication of the hostile intentions of Russia towards France; for,
whatever he might say on this subject to his confidants, what reliance
can we place on the man who formed the camp of Boulogne without the most
distant intention of attempting a descent upon England, and who had
deceived the whole world respecting that important affair without taking
any one into his own confidence?
During the period of my stay in Paris the war with Spain and Portugal
occupied much of the public attention; and it proved in the end an
enterprise upon which the intuition of Josephine had not deceived her.
In general she intermeddled little with political affairs; in the first
place, because her doing so would have given offence to Napoleon; and
next, because her natural frivolity led her to give a preference to
lighter pursuits. But I may safely affirm that she was endowed with an
instinct so perfect as seldom to be deceived respecting the good or evil
tendency of any measure which Napoleon engaged in; and I remember she
told me that when informed of the intention of the Emperor to bestow the
throne of Spain on Joseph, she was seized with a feeling of indescribable
alarm. It would be difficult to define that instinctive feeling which
leads us to foresee the future; but it is a fact that Josephine was
endowed with this faculty in a more perfect decree than any other person
I have ever known, and to her it was a fatal gift, for she suffered at
the same time under the weight of present and of future misfortunes.
I often visited her at Malmaison, as Duroc assured me that the Emperor
had no objection to my doing so; yet he must have been fully aware that
when Josephine and I were in confidential conversation he would not
always be mentioned in terms of unqualified eulogy; and in truth, his
first friend and his first wife might well be excused for sometimes
commingling their complaints.
Though more than a twelvemonth had elapsed since the divorce grief still
preyed on the heart of Josephine. "You cannot conceive, my friend," she
often said to me, "all the torments that I have suffered since that fatal
day! I cannot imagine how I survived it. You cannot figure to yourself
the pain I endure on seeing descriptions of his fetes everywhere. And
the first time he came to visit me after his marriage, what a meeting was
that! How many tears I shed! The days on which he comes are to me days
of misery, for he spares me not. How cruel to speak of his expected
heir. Bourrienne, you cannot conceive how heart-rending all this is to
me! Better, far better to be exiled a thousand leagues from hence!
However," added Josephine, "a few friends still remain faithful in my
changed fortune, and that is now the only thing which affords me even
temporary consolation." The truth is that she was extremely unhappy, and
the most acceptable consolation her friends could offer her was to weep
with her. Yet such was still Josephine's passion for dress, that after.
having wept for a quarter of an hour she would dry her tears to give
audience to milliners and jewellers. The sight of a new hat would call
forth all Josephine's feminine love of finery. One day I remember that,
taking advantage of the momentary serenity occasioned by an ample display
of sparkling gewgaws, I congratulated her upon the happy influence they
exercised over her spirits, when she said, "My dear friend, I ought,
indeed, to be indifferent to all this; but it is a habit." Josephine
might have added that it was also an occupation, for it would be no
exaggeration to say that if the time she wasted in tears and at her
toilet had been subtracted from her life its duration would have been
considerably shortened.
The vast extent of the French Empire now presented a spectacle which
resembled rather the dominion of the Romans and the conquests of
Charlemagne than the usual form and political changes of modern Europe.
In fact, for nearly two centuries, until the period of the Revolution,
and particularly until the elevation of Napoleon, no remarkable changes
had taken place in the boundaries of European States, if we except the
partition of Poland, when two of the co-partitioners committed the error
of turning the tide of Russia towards the west! Under Napoleon
everything was overturned with astonishing rapidity: customs, manners,
laws, were superseded
--[The so-called "French" armies of the time, drawn from all parts
of the Empire and from the dependent States, represented the
extraordinary fusion attempted by Napoleon. Thus, at the battle of
Ocana there were at least troops of the following States, viz.
Warsaw, Holland, Baden, Nassau, Hesse-Darmstadt, Frankfort, besides
the Spaniards in Joseph's service. A Spanish division went to
Denmark, the regiment from Isembourg was sent to Naples, while the
Neapolitans crossed to Spain. Even the little Valais had to furnish
a battalion. Blacks from San Domingo served in Naples, while
sixteen nations, like so many chained dogs, advanced into Russia.
Such troops could not have the spirit of a homogeneous army.
Already, in 1808, Metternich had written from Paris to his Court,
"It is no longer the nation that fights: the present war (Spain) is
Napoleon's war; it is not even that of his army." But Napoleon
himself was aware of the danger of the Empire from its own extent.
In the silence of his cabinet his secretary Meneval sometimes heard
him murmur, "L'arc est trop longtemps tendu."]--
by new customs, new manners, and new laws, imposed by force, and forming
a heterogeneous whole, which could not fail to dissolve, as soon as the
influence of the power which had created it should cease to operate.
Such was the state of Italy that I have been informed by an individual
worthy of credit that if the army of Prince Eugene, instead of being
victorious, had been beaten on the Piava, a deeply-organised revolution
would have broken out in Piedmont, and even in the Kingdom of Italy,
where, nevertheless, the majority of the people fully appreciated the
excellent qualities of Eugene. I have been also credibly informed that
lists were in readiness designating those of the French who were to be
put to death, as well as those by whom the severe orders of the Imperial
Government had been mitigated, and who were only to be banished. In
fact, revolt was as natural to the Italians as submission to the Germans,
and as the fury of despair to the Spanish nation. On this subject I may
cite an observation contained in one of the works of Alfieri, published
fifteen years before the Spanish war. Taking a cursory view of the
different European nations he regarded--the Spaniards as the only people
possessed of "sufficient energy to struggle against foreign usurpation."
Had I still been near the person of Napoleon I would most assuredly have
resorted to an innocent artifice, which I had several times employed, and
placed the work of Alfieri on his table open at the page I wished him to
read. Alfieri's opinion of the Spanish people was in the end fully
verified; and I confess I cannot think without shuddering of the torrents
of blood which inundated the Peninsula; and for what? To make Joseph
Bonaparte a King!
The commencement of 1811 was sufficiently favourable to the French arms
in Spain, but towards the beginning of March the aspect of affairs
changed. The Duke of Belluno, notwithstanding the valour of his troops,
was unsuccessful at Chiclana; and from that day the French army could not
make head against the combined forces of England and Portugal. Even
Massena, notwithstanding the title of Prince of Eslingen (or Essling),
which he had won under the walls of Vienna, was no longer "the favourite
child of victory" as he had been at Zurich.
Having mentioned Massena I may observe that he did not favour the change
of the French Government on the foundation of the Empire. Massena loved
two things, glory and money; but as to what is termed honours, he only
valued those which resulted from the command of an army; and his
recollections all bound him to the Republic, because the Republic
recalled to his mind the most brilliant and glorious events of his
military career. He was, besides, among the number of the Marshals who
wished to see a limit put to the ambition of Bonaparte; and he had
assuredly done enough, since the commencement of the wars of the
Republic, to be permitted to enjoy some repose, which his health at that
period required. What could he achieve against the English in Portugal?
The combined forces of England and Portugal daily augmented, while ours
diminished. No efforts were spared by England to gain a superiority in
the great struggle in which she was engaged; as her money was lavished
profusely, her troops paid well wherever they went, and were abundantly
supplied with ammunition and provisions: the French army was compelled,
though far from possessing such ample means, to purchase at the same high
rate, in order to keep the natives from joining the English party. But
even this did not prevent numerous partial insurrections in different
places, which rendered all communication with France extremely difficult.
Armed bands continually carried off our dispersed soldiers; and the
presence of the British troops, supported by the money they spent in the
country, excited the inhabitants against us; for it is impossible to
suppose that, unsupported by the English, Portugal could have held out a
single moment against France. But battles, bad weather, and even want,
had so reduced the French force that it was absolutely necessary our
troops should repose when their enterprises could lead to no results.
In this state of things Massena was recalled, because his health was so
materially injured as to render it impossible for him to exert sufficient
activity to restore the army to a respectable footing.
Under these circumstances Bonaparte sent Bertrand into Illyria to take
the place of Marmont, who was ordered in his turn to relieve Massena and
take command of the French army in Portugal Marmont on assuming the
command found the troops in a deplorable state. The difficulty of
procuring provisions was extreme, and the means he was compelled to
employ for that purpose greatly heightened the evil, at the same time
insubordination and want of discipline prevailed to such an alarming
degree that it would be as difficult as painful to depict the situation
of our army at this period, Marmont, by his steady conduct, fortunately
succeeded in correcting the disorders which prevailed, and very soon
found himself at the head of a well-organised army, amounting to 30,000
infantry, with forty pieces of artillery, but he had only a very small
body of cavalry, and those ill-mounted.
Affairs in Spain at the commencement of 1811 exhibited an aspect not very
different from those of Portugal. At first we were uniformly successful,
but our advantages were so dearly purchased that the ultimate issue of
this struggle might easily have been foreseen, because when a people
fight for their homes and their liberties the invading army must
gradually diminish, while at the same time the armed population,
emboldened by success, increases in a still more marked progression.
Insurrection was now regarded by the Spaniards as a holy and sacred duty,
to which the recent meetings of the Cortes in the Isle of Leon had given,
as it were, a legitimate character, since Spain found again, in the
remembrance of her ancient privileges, at least the shadow of a
Government--a centre around which the defenders of the soil of the
Peninsula could rally.
--[Lord Wellington gave Massena a beating at Fuentes d'Onore on the
5th of May 1811. It was soon after this battle that Napoleon sent
Marmont to succeed Massena. Advancing on the southern frontier of
Portugal the skillful Soult contrived to take Badajoz from a
wavering Spanish garrison. About this time, however, General
Graham, with his British corps, sallied out of Cadiz, and beat the
French on the heights of Barrosa, which lie in front of Cadiz, which
city the French were then besieging. Encouraged by the successes of
our regular armies, the Spanish Guerillas became more and more
numerous and daring. By the end of 1811 Joseph Bonaparte found so
many thorns in his usurped crown that he implored his brother to put
it on some other head. Napoleon would not then listen to his
prayer. In the course of 1811 a plan was laid for liberating
Ferdinand from his prison in France and placing him at the head of
affairs in Spain, but was detected by the emissaries of Bonaparte's
police. Ferdinand's sister, the ex-Queen of Etruria, had also
planned an escape to England. Her agents were betrayed, tried by a
military commission, and shot--the Princess herself was condemned to
close confinement in a Roman convent.--Editor of 1836 edition.]--
The Continental system was the cause, if not of the eventual fall, at
least of the rapid fall of Napoleon. This cannot be doubted if we
consider for a moment the brilliant situation of the Empire in 1811,
and the effect simultaneously produced throughout Europe by that system,
which undermined the most powerful throne which ever existed. It was the
Continental system that Napoleon upheld in Spain, for he had persuaded
himself that this system, rigorously enforced, would strike a death blow
to the commerce of England; and Duroc besides informed me of a
circumstance which is of great weight in this question. Napoleon one day
said to him, "I am no longer anxious that Joseph should be King of Spain;
and he himself is indifferent about it. I would give the crown to the
first comer who would shut his ports against the English."
Murat had come to Paris on the occasion of the Empress' accouchement, and
I saw him several times during his stay, for we had always been on the
best terms; and I must do him the justice to say that he never assumed
the King but to his courtiers, and those who had known him only as a
monarch. Eight or ten days after the birth of the King of Rome, as I was
one morning walking in the Champs Elysees, I met Murat. He was alone,
and dressed in a long blue overcoat. We were exactly opposite the
gardens of his sister-in-law, the Princess Borghese. "Well, Bourrienne,"
said Murat, after we had exchanged the usual courtesies, "well, what are
you about now?" I informed him how I had been treated by Napoleon, who,
that I might not be in Hamburg when the decree of union arrived there,
had recalled me to Paris under a show of confidence. I think I still see
the handsome and expressive countenance of Joachim when, having addressed
him by the titles of Sire and Your Majesty, he said to me, "Pshaw!
Bourrienne, are we not old comrades? The Emperor has treated you
unjustly; and to whom has he not been unjust? His displeasure is
preferable to his favour, which costs so dear! He says that he made us
Kings; but did we not make him an Emperor? To you, my friend, whom I
have known long and intimately, I can make my profession of faith. My
sword, my blood, my life belong to the Emperor. When he calls me to the
field to combat his enemies and the enemies of France I am no longer a
King, I resume the rank of a Marshal of the Empire; but let him require
no more. At Naples I will be King of Naples, and I will not sacrifice to
his false calculations the life, the well-being, and the interests of my
subjects. Let him not imagine that he can treat me as he has treated
Louis! For I am ready to defend, even against him, if it must be so, the
rights of the people over whom he has appointed me to rule. Am I then an
advance-guard King?" These last words appeared to me peculiarly
appropriate in the mouth of Murat, who had always served in the advance-
guard of our armies, and I thought expressed in a very happy manner the
similarity of his situation as a king and a soldier.
I walked with Murat about half an hour. In the course of our
conversation he informed me that his greatest cause of complaint against
the Emperor was his having first put him forward and then abandoned him.
"Before I arrived in Naples," continued he, "it was intimated to me that
there was a design of assassinating me. What did I do? I entered that
city alone, in full daylight, in an open carriage, for I would rather
have been assassinated at once than have lived in the constant fear of
being so. I afterwards made a descent on the Isle of Capri, which
succeeded. I attempted one against Sicily, and am curtain it would have
also been successful had the Emperor fulfilled his promise of sending the
Toulon fleet to second my operations; but he issued contrary orders: he
enacted Mazarin, and unshed me to play the part of the adventurous Duke
of Guise. But I see through his designs. Now that he has a son, on whom
he has bestowed the title of King of Rome, he merely wishes the crown of
Naples to be considered as a deposit in my hands. He regards Naples as a
future annexation to the Kingdom of Rome, to which I foresee it is his
design to unite the whole of Italy. But let him not urge me too far, for
I will oppose him, and conquer, or perish in the attempt, sword in hand."
I had the discretion not to inform Murat how correctly he had divined the
plans of the Emperor and his projects as to Italy, but in regard to the
Continental system, which, perhaps, the reader will be inclined to call
my great stalking-horse, I spoke of it as I had done to the Prince of
Sweden, and I perceived that he was fully disposed to follow my advice,
as experience has sufficiently proved. It was in fact the Continental
system which separated the interests of Murat from those of the Emperor,
and which compelled the new King of Naples to form alliances amongst the
Princes at war with France. Different opinions have been entertained on
this Subject; mine is, that the Marshal of the Empire was wrong, but the
King of Naples right.
The Princes and Dukes of the Empire must pardon me for so often
designating them by their Republican names. The Marshals set less value
on their titles of nobility than the Dukes and Counts selected from among
the civilians. Of all the sons of the Republic Regnault de St. Jean
d'Angely was the most gratified at being a Count, whilst, among the
fathers of the Revolution no one could regard with greater disdain than
Fouche his title of Duke of Otranto; he congratulated himself upon its
possession only once, and that was after the fall of the Empire.
I have expressed my dislike of Fouche; and the reason of that feeling
was, that I could not endure his system of making the police a government
within a government. He had left Paris before my return thither, but I
had frequent occasion to speak of that famous personage to Savary, whom,
for the reason above assigned, I do not always term Duc de Rovigo.
Savary knew better than any one the fallacious measures of Fouche's
administration, since he was his successor. Fouche, under pretence of
encouraging men of letters, though well aware that the Emperor was
hostile to them, intended only to bring them into contempt by making them
write verses at command. It was easily seen that Napoleon nourished a
profound dislike of literary men, though we must not conclude that he
wished the public to be aware of that dislike. Those, besides, who
devoted their pens to blazon his glory and his power were sure to be
received by him with distinction. On the other hand, as Charlemagne and
Louis XIV. owed a portion of the splendour of their reigns to the lustre
reflected on them by literature, he wished to appear to patronise
authors, provided that they never discussed questions relating to
philosophy, the independence of mankind, and civil and political rights.
With regard to men of science it was wholly different; those he held in
real estimation; but men of letters, properly so called, were considered
by him merely as a sprig in his Imperial crown.
The marriage of the Emperor with an Archduchess of Austria had set all
the Court poets to work, and in this contest of praise and flattery it
must be confessed that the false gods were vanquished by the true God;
for, in spite of their fulsome verses, not one of the disciples of Apollo
could exceed the extravagance of the Bishops in their pastoral letters.
At a time when so many were striving to force themselves into notice
there still existed a feeling of esteem in the public mind for men of
superior talent who remained independent amidst the general corruption;
such was M. Lemercier, such was M. de Chateaubriand. I was in Paris in
the spring of 1811, at the period of Chenier's death, when the numerous
friends whom Chateaubriand possessed in the second class of the Institute
looked to him as the successor of Chenier. This was more than a mere
literary question, not only on account of the high literary reputation
M. de Chateaubriand already possessed, but of the recollection of his
noble conduct at the period of Duc d'Enghien's death, which was yet fresh
in the memory of every one; and, besides, no person could be ignorant of
the immeasurable difference of opinion between Chenier and M. de
Chateaubriand.
M. de Chateaubriand obtained a great majority of votes, and was elected a
Member of the Institute. This opened a wide field for conjecture in
Paris. Every one was anxious to see how the author of the Genie du
Christianisme, the faithful defender of the Bourbons, would bend his
eloquence to pronounce the eulogium of a regicide. The time for the
admission of the new Member of the Institute arrived, but in his
discourse, copies of which were circulated in Paris, he had ventured to
allude to the death of Louis XVI., and to raise his voice against the
regicides. This did not displease Napoleon; but M. de Chateaubriand also
made a profession of faith in favour of liberty, which, he said, found
refuge amongst men of letters when banished from the politic body. This
was great boldness for the time; for though Bonaparte was secretly
gratified at seeing the judges of Louis XVI. scourged by an heroic pen,
yet those men held the highest situations under the Government.
Cambaceres filled the second place in the Empire, although at a great
distance from the first; Merlin de Douai was also in power; and it is
known how much liberty was stifled and hidden beneath the dazzling
illusion of what is termed glory. A commission was named to examine the
discourse of Chateaubriand. MM. Suard, de Segur, de Fontanes, and two or
three other members of the same class of the Institute whose names I
cannot recollect, were of opinion that the discourse should be read; but
it was opposed by the majority.
When Napoleon was informed of what had passed he demanded a sight of the
address, which was presented to him by M. Daru. After having perused it
he exclaimed; "Had this discourse been delivered I would have shut the
gates of the Institute, and thrown M. de Chateaubriand into a dungeon for
life." The storm long raged; at length means of conciliation were tried.
The Emperor required M. de Chateaubriand to prepare another discourse,
which the latter refused to do, in spite of every menace. Madame Gay
applied to Madame Regnault de St. Jean d'Angely, who interested her
husband in favour of the author of the Genie du Christianisme. M. de
Montalivet and Savary also acted on this occasion in the most
praiseworthy manner, and succeeded in appeasing the first transports of
the Emperor's rage. But the name of Chateaubriand constantly called to
mind the circumstances which had occasioned him to give in his
resignation; and, besides, Napoleon had another complaint against him.
He had published in the 'Merceure' an article on a work of M. Alexandre
de Laborde. In that article, which was eagerly read in Paris, and which
caused the suppression of the 'Merceure', occurred the famous phrase
which has been since so often repeated: "In vain a Nero triumphs: Tacitus
is already born in his Empire." This quotation leads me to repeat an
observation, which, I believe, I have already made, viz. that it is a
manifest misconception to compare Bonaparte to Nero. Napoleon's ambition
might blind his vision to political crimes, but in private life no man
could evince less disposition to cruelty or bloodshed. A proof that he
bore little resemblance to Nero is that his anger against the author of
the article in question vented itself in mere words. "What!" exclaimed
he, "does Chateaubriand think I am a fool, and that I do not know what he
means? If he goes on this way I will have him sabred on the steps of the
Tuileries." This language is quite characteristic of Bonaparte, but it
was uttered in the first ebullition of his wrath. Napoleon merely
threatened, but Nero would have made good his threat; and in such a case
there is surely some difference between words and deeds.
The discourse of M. de Chateaubriand revived Napoleon's former enmity
against him; he received an order to quit Paris: M. Daru returned to him
the manuscript of his discourse, which had been read by Bonaparte, who
cancelled some passages with a pencil. We can be sure that the phrase
about liberty was not one of those spared by the Imperial pencil.
However that may be, written copies were circulated with text altered and
abbreviated; and I have even been told that a printed edition appeared,
but I have never seen any copies; and as I do not find the discourse in
the works of M. de Chateaubriand I have reason to believe that the author
has not yet wished to publish it.
Such were the principal circumstances attending the nomination of
Chateaubriand to the Institute. I shall not relate some others which
occurred on a previous occasion, viz. on the election of an old and
worthy visitor at Malmaison, M. Lemercier, and which will serve to show
one of those strange inconsistencies so frequent in the character of
Napoleon.
After the foundation of the Empire M. Lemercier ceased to present himself
at the Tuileries, St. Cloud, or at Malmaison, though he was often seen in
the salons of Madame Bonaparte while she yet hoped not to become a Queen.
Two places were vacant at once in the second class of the Institute,
which still contained a party favourable to liberty. This party, finding
it impossible to influence the nomination of both members, contented
itself with naming one, it being the mutual condition, in return for
favouring the Government candidate, that the Government party should not
oppose the choice of the liberals. The liberal party selected M.
Lemercier, but as they knew his former connection with Bonaparte had been
broken off they wished first to ascertain that he would do nothing to
commit their choice. Chenier was empowered to inquire whether M.
Lemercier would refuse to accompany them to the Tuileries when they
repaired thither in a body, and whether, on his election, he would comply
with the usual ceremony of being presented to the Emperor. M. Lemercier
replied that he would do nothing contrary to the customs and usages of
the body to which he might belong: he was accordingly elected. The
Government candidate was M. Esmenard, who was also elected. The two new
members were presented to the Emperor on the same day. On this occasion
upwards of 400 persons were present in the salon, from one of whom I
received these details. When the Emperor saw M. Lemercier, for whom he
had long pretended great friendship, he said to him in a kind tone,
"Well, Lemercier, you are now installed." Lemercier respectfully bowed
to the Emperor; but without uttering a word of reply. Napoleon was
mortified at this silence, but without saying anything more to Lemercier
he turned to Esmenard, the member who should have been most acceptable to
him, and vented upon him the whole weight of his indignation in a manner
equally unfeeling and unjust. "Well, Esmenard," said he, "do you still
hold your place in the police?" These words were spoken in so loud a
tone as to be heard by all present; and it was doubtless this cruel and
ambiguous speech which furnished the enemies of Esmenard with arms to
attack his reputation as a man of honour, and to give an appearance of
disgrace to those functions which he exercised with so much zeal and
ability.
When, at the commencement of 1811, I left Paris I had ceased to delude
myself respecting the brilliant career which seemed opening before me
during the Consulate. I clearly perceived that since Bonaparte, instead
of receiving me as I expected, had refused to see me at all, the
calumnies of my enemies were triumphant, and that I had nothing to hope
for from an absolute ruler, whose past injustice rendered him the more
unjust. He now possessed what he had so long and ardently wished for,
--a son of his own, an inheritor of his name, his power, and his throne.
I must take this opportunity of stating that the malevolent and infamous
rumours spread abroad respecting the birth of the King of Rome were
wholly without foundation. My friend Corvisart, who did not for a single
instant leave Maria Louisa during her long and painful labour, removed
from my mind every doubt on the subject. It is as true that the young
Prince, for whom the Emperor of Austria stood sponsor at the font, was
the son of Napoleon and the Archduchess Maria Louisa as it is false that
Bonaparte was the father of the first child of Hortense. The birth of
the son of Napoleon was hailed with general enthusiasm. The Emperor was
at the height of his power from the period of the birth of his son until
the reverse he experienced after the battle of the Moskowa. The Empire,
including the States possessed by the Imperial family, contained nearly
57,000,000 of inhabitants; but the period was fast approaching when this
power, unparalleled in modern times, was to collapse under its own
weight.
--[The little King of Rome, Napoleon Francis Bonaparte, was born on
the 20th of March 1811. Editor of 1836 edition.]--