He had grown considerably thinner in person during the last few months.

After his death his face and body were pale, but without alteration or

anything of a cadaverous appearance. His physiognomy was fine, the eyes

fast closed, and you would have said that the Emperor was not dead, but

in a profound sleep. His mouth retained its expression of sweetness,

though one side was contracted into a bitter smile. Several scars were

seen on his body. On opening it it was found that the liver was not

affected, but that there was that cancer of the stomach which he had

himself suspected, and of which his father and two of his sisters died.

This painful examination having been completed, Antommarchi took out the

heart and placed it in a silver vase filled with spirits of wine; he then

directed the valet de chambre to dress the body as he had been accustomed

in the Emperor's lifetime, with the grand cordon of the Legion of Honour

across the breast, in the green uniform of a colonel of the Chasseurs of

the Guard, decorated with the orders of the Legion of Honour and of the

Iron Crown, long boots with little spurs, finally, his three cornered

hat. Thus habited, Napoleon was removed in the afternoon of the 6th out

of the hall, into which the, crowd rushed immediately. The linen which

had been employed in the dissection of the body, though stained with

blood, was eagerly seized, torn in pieces, and distributed among the

bystanders.

Napoleon lay in state in his little bedroom which had been converted into

a funeral chamber. It was hung with black cloth brought from the town.

This circumstance first apprised the inhabitants of his death. The

corpse, which had not been embalmed, and which was of an extraordinary

whiteness, was placed on one of the campbeds, surrounded with little

white curtains, which served for a sarcophagus. The blue cloak which

Napoleon had worn at the battle of Marengo covered it. The feet and the

hands were free; the sword on the left side, and a crucifix on the

breast. At some distance was the silver vase containing the heart and

stomach, which were not allowed to be removed. At the back of the head

was an altar, where the priest in his stole and surplice recited the

customary prayers. All the individuals of Napoleon's suite, officers and

domestics, dressed in mourning, remained standing on the left. Dr.

Arnott had been charged to see that no attempt was made to convey away

the body.

For some-hours the crowd had besieged the doors; they were admitted, and

beheld the inanimate remains of Napoleon in respectful silence. The

officers of the 20th and 66th Regiments were admitted first, then the

others. The following day (the 7th) the throng was greater. Antommarchi

was not allowed to take the heart of Napoleon to Europe with him; he

deposited that and the stomach in two vases, filled with alcohol and

hermetically sealed, in the corners of the coffin in which the corpse was

laid. This was a shell of zinc lined with white satin, in which was a

mattress furnished with a pillow. There not being room for the hat to

remain on his head, it was placed at his feet, with some eagles, pieces

of French money coined during his reign, a plate engraved with his arms,

etc. The coffin was closed, carefully soldered up, and then fixed in

another case of mahogany, which was enclosed in a third made of lead,

which last was fastened in a fourth of mahogany, which was sealed up and

fastened with screws. The coffin was exhibited in the same place as the

body had been, and was also covered with the cloak that Napoleon had worn

at the battle of Marengo. The funeral was ordered for the morrow, 8th

May, and the troops were to attend in the morning by break of day.

This took place accordingly: the Governor arrived first, the Rear-Admiral

soon after, and shortly all the authorities, civil and military, were

assembled at Longwood. The day was fine, the people crowded the roads,

music resounded from the heights; never had spectacle so sad and solemn

been witnessed in these remote regions. At half-past twelve the

grenadiers took hold of the coffin, lifted it with difficulty, and

succeeded in removing it into the great walk in the garden, where the

hearse awaited them. It was placed in the carriage, covered with a pall

of violet-coloured velvet, and with the cloak which the hero wore at

Marengo. The Emperor's household were in mourning. The cavalcade was

arranged by order of the Governor in the following manner: The Abbe

Vignale in his sacerdotal robes, with young Henry Bertrand at his side,

bearing an aspersorium; Doctors Arnott and Antommarchi, the persons

entrusted with the superintendence of the hearse, drawn by four horses,

led by grooms, and escorted by twelve grenadiers without arms, on each

side; these last were to carry the coffin on their shoulders as soon as

the ruggedness of the road prevented the hearse from advancing; young

Napoleon Bertrand, and Marchand, both on foot, and by the side of the

hearse; Counts Bertrand and Montholon on horseback close behind the

hearse; a part of the household of the Emperor; Countess Bertrand with

her daughter Hortense, in a calash drawn by two horses led by hand by her

domestics, who walked by the side of the precipice; the Emperor's horse

led by his piqueur Archambaud; the officers of marine on horseback and on

foot; the officers of the staff on horse-back; the members of the council

of the island in like manner; General Coffin and the Marquis Montchenu on

horseback; the Rear-Admiral and the Governor on horseback; the

inhabitants of the island.

The train set out in this order from Longwood, passed by the barracks,

and was met by the garrison, about 2500 in number, drawn up on the left

of the road as far as Hut's Gate. Military bands placed at different

distances added still more, by the mournful airs which they played, to

the striking solemnity of the occasion. When the train had passed the

troops followed and accompanied it to the burying-place. The dragoons

marched first. Then came the 20th Regiment of infantry, the marines, the

66th, the volunteers of St. Helena, and lastly, the company of Royal

Artillery, with fifteen pieces of cannon. Lady Lowe and her daughter

were at the roadside at Hut's Gate, in an open carriage drawn by two

horses. They were attended by some domestics in mourning, and followed

the procession at a distance. The fifteen pieces of artillery were

ranged along the road, and the gunners were at their posts ready to fire.

Having advanced about a quarter of a mile beyond Hut's Gate the hearse

stopped, the troops halted and drew up in line of battle by the roadside.

The grenadiers then raised the coffin on their shoulders and bore it thus

to the place of interment, by the new route which had been made on

purpose on the declivity of the mountain. All the attendants alighted,

the ladies descended from their carriages, and the procession followed

the corpse without observing any regular order.

Counts Bertrand and Montholon, Marchand and young Napoleon Bertrand,

carried the four corners of the pall. The coffin was laid down at the

side of the tomb, which was hung with black. Near were seen the cords

and pulleys which were to lower it into the earth. The coffin was then

uncovered, the Abbe Vignale repeated the usual prayers, and the body was

let down into the grave with the feet to the east. The artillery then

fired three salutes in succession of fifteen discharges each. The

Admiral's vessel had fired during the procession twenty-five minute guns

from time to time. A huge stone, which was to have been employed in the

building of the new house of the Emperor, was now used to close his

grave, and was lowered till it rested on a strong stone wall so as not to

touch the coffin. While the grave was closed the crowd seized upon the

willows, which the former presence of Napoleon had already rendered

objects of veneration. Every one was ambitious to possess a branch or

some leaves of these trees which were henceforth to shadow the tomb of

this great man, and to preserve them as a precious relic of so memorable

a scene. The Governor and Admiral endeavoured to prevent this outrage,

but in vain. The Governor, however, surrounded the spot afterwards with

a barricade, where he placed a guard to keep off all intruders. The tomb

of the Emperor was about a league from Longwood. It was of a

quadrangular shape, wider at top than at bottom; the depth about twelve

feet. The coffin was placed on two strong pieces of wood, and was

detached in its whole circumference.

The companions of Napoleon returned to France, and the island gradually

resumed its former quiet state, while the willows weeping over the grave

guarded the ashes of the man for whom Europe had been all too small.

ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS:

A sect cannot be destroyed by cannon-balls

Ability in making it be supposed that he really possessed talent

Absurdity of interfering with trifles

Admired him more for what he had the fortitude not to do

Always proposing what he knew could not be honourably acceded to

An old man's blessing never yet harmed any one

Animated by an unlucky zeal

Buried for the purpose of being dug up

Calumny such powerful charms

Cause of war between the United States and England

Conquest can only be regarded as the genius of destruction

Demand everything, that you may obtain nothing

Die young, and I shall have some consolatory reflection

Every time we go to war with them we teach them how to beat us

Every one cannot be an atheist who pleases

Go to England. The English like wrangling politicians

God in his mercy has chosen Napoleon to be his representative on earth

Grew more angry as his anger was less regarded

Had neither learned nor forgotten anything

I have made sovereigns, but have not wished to be one myself

I do not live--I merely exist

Ideologues

Immortality is the recollection one leaves

Kings feel they are born general: whatever else they cannot do

Kiss the feet of Popes provided their hands are tied

Let women mind their knitting

Malice delights to blacken the characters of prominent men

Manufacturers of phrases

More glorious to merit a sceptre than to possess one

Most celebrated people lose on a close view

Necessary to let men and things take their course

Nothing is changed in France: there is only one Frenchman more

Put some gold lace on the coats of my virtuous republicans

Religion is useful to the Government

Rights of misfortune are always sacred

Something so seductive in popular enthusiasm

Strike their imaginations by absurdities than by rational ideas

Submit to events, that he might appear to command them

Tendency to sell the skin of the bear before killing him

That consolation which is always left to the discontented

The boudoir was often stronger than the cabinet

The wish and the reality were to him one and the same thing

Those who are free from common prejudices acquire others

To leave behind him no traces of his existence

Treaties of peace no less disastrous than the wars

Treaty, according to custom, was called perpetual

Trifles honoured with too much attention

Were made friends of lest they should become enemies

When a man has so much money he cannot have got it honestly

Would enact the more in proportion as we yield

Yield to illusion when the truth was not satisfactory

RECOLLECTIONS OF THE PRIVATE LIFE OF NAPOLEON, Complete

By CONSTANT

PREMIER VALET DE CHAMBRE

TRANSLATED BY WALTER CLARK

1895

PREFACE.

Though this work was first published in 1830, it has never before been

translated into English. Indeed, the volumes are almost out of print.

When in Paris a few years ago the writer secured, with much difficulty,

a copy, from which this translation has been made. Notes have been added

by the translator, and illustrations by the publishers, which, it is

believed, will enhance the interest of the original work by Constant.

"To paint Caesar in undress is not to paint Caesar," some one has said.

Yet men will always like to see the great 'en deshabille'. In these

volumes the hero is painted in undress. His foibles, his peculiarities,

his vices, are here depicted without reserve. But so also are his

kindness of heart, his vast intellect, his knowledge of men, his

extraordinary energy, his public spirit. The shutters are taken down,

and the workings of the mighty machinery are laid bare.

The late Prince Napoleon (who was more truly "the nephew of his uncle"

than was Napoleon III.), in his Napoleon and His Detractors, bitterly

assails this work of Constants attacking both its authenticity and the

correctness of its statements. But there appears no good reason to doubt

its genuineness, and the truthfulness of many of its details is amply

supported by other authorities. Notwithstanding its excesses and

follies, the great French Revolution will ever have an absorbing interest

for mankind, because it began as a struggle for the advancement of the

cause of manhood, liberty, and equal rights. It was a terribly earnest

movement; and, after the lapse of a century, interest continues unabated

in the great soldier who restored order, and organized and preserved the

new ideas by means of his Civil Code and a firm government.

Countless memoirs have been published by those who lived in those heroic

times. Yet everything which will cast new light upon the chief actors in

that great drama of humanity is still seized upon with avidity,

especially whatever concerns the Emperor.

This is not merely because he was a great conqueror; for such were, after

their fashion, Genghis Khan and Timour, and hundreds of others. But it

is because of the human interest which attaches to the wonderful career

of Napoleon and the events of which he was the central figure.

Never did poet or novelist imagine scenes so improbable. The son of an

obscure lawyer in an unimportant island becomes Emperor of the French and

King of Italy. His brothers and sisters become kings and queens. The

sons of innkeepers, notaries; lawyers, and peasants become marshals of

the empire. The Emperor, first making a West India Creole his wife and

Empress, puts her away, and marries a daughter of the haughtiest and

oldest royal house in Europe, the niece of a queen whom the people of

France had beheaded a few years before. Their son is born a king--King

of Rome. Then suddenly the pageantry dissolves, and Emperor, kings, and

queens become subjects again. Has imagination ever dreamed anything

wilder than this? The dramatic interest of this story will always

attract, but there is a deeper one. The secret spring of all those rapid

changes, and the real cause of the great interest humanity will always

feel in the story of those eventful times, is to be found in Napoleon's

own explanation--"A career open to talents, without distinction of

birth." Till that day the accident of birth was the key to every honor

and every position. No man could hold even a lieutenancy in the army who

could not show four quarterings on his coat of arms.

It was as the "armed apostle of democracy" that Napoleon went forth

conquering and to conquer. He declared at St. Helena that he "had always

marched supported by the opinions of six millions of men."

The old woman who met him incognito climbing the hill of Tarare, and

replying to his assertion that "Napoleon was only a tyrant like the

rest," exclaimed, "It may be so, but the others are the kings of the

nobility, while he is one of us, and we have chosen him ourselves,"

expressed a great truth. As long as Napoleon represented popular

sovereignty he was invincible; but when, deeming himself strong enough to

stand alone, he endeavored to conciliate the old order of things, and,

divorcing the daughter of the people, took for a bride the daughter of

kings and allied himself with them--at that moment, like another Samson,

"his strength departed from him." Disasters came as they had come to him

before, but this time the heart of the people was no longer with him. He

fell.

This man has been studied as a soldier, a statesman, an organizer, a

politician. In all he was undeniably great. But men will always like to

know something about him as a man. Can he stand that ordeal? These

volumes will answer that question. They are written by one who joined

the First Consul at the Hospice on Mt. St. Bernard, on his way to

Marengo, in June, 1800, and who was with him as his chief personal

attendant, day and night, never leaving him "any more than his shadow"

(eight days only) excepted until that eventful day, fourteen years later,

when, laying aside the sceptre of the greatest empire the world had known

for seventeen centuries, he walked down the horseshoe steps at

Fontainebleau in the presence of the soldiers whom he had led to victory

from Madrid to Moscow, once more a private citizen.

That men of Anglo-Saxon speech may have an opportunity to see and judge

the Emperor from "close at hand," and view him as he appeared in the eyes

of his personal attendants, these volumes have been translated, and are

now submitted to the public. Though the remark of Frederick the Great

that "No man is a hero to his valet" is not altogether borne out in this

instance, still it will be seen that there is here nothing of that

"divinity which doth hedge a king." In these volumes Napoleon appears as

a man, a very great man, still a mere man, not, a demigod. Their perusal

will doubtless lead to a truer conception of his character, as manifested

both in his good and in his evil traits. The former were natural to him;

the latter were often produced by the exceptional circumstances which

surrounded him, and the extraordinary temptations to which he was

subjected.

Certainly a truer and fuller light is cast by these volumes, upon the

colossal figure which will always remain one of the most interesting

studies in all human history.

THE TRANSLATOR.

INTRODUCTION.

By Constant.

The career of a man compelled to make his own way, who is not an artisan

or in some trade, does not usually begin till he is about twenty years of

age. Till then he vegetates, uncertain of his future, neither having,

nor being able to have, any well-defined purpose. It is only when he has

arrived at the full development of his powers, and his character and bent

of mind are shown, that he can determine his profession or calling. Not

till then does he know himself, and see his way open before him. In

fact, it is only then that he begins to live.

Reasoning in this manner, my life from my twentieth year has been thirty

years, which can be divided into equal parts, so far as days and months

are counted, but very unequal parts, considering the events which

transpired in each of those two periods of my life.

Attached to the person of the Emperor Napoleon for fifteen years, I have

seen all the men, and witnessed all the important events, which centered

around him. I have seen far more than that; for I have had under my eyes

all the circumstances of his life, the least as well as the greatest, the

most secret as well as those which are known to history,--I have had, I

repeat, incessantly under my eyes the man whose name, solitary and alone,

fills the most glorious pages of our history. Fifteen years I followed

him in his travels and his campaigns, was at his court, and saw him in

the privacy of his family. Whatever step he wished to take, whatever

order he gave, it was necessarily very difficult for the Emperor not to

admit me, even though involuntarily, into his confidence; so that without

desiring it, I have more than once found myself in the possession of

secrets I should have preferred not to know. What wonderful things

happened during those fifteen years! Those near the Emperor lived as if

in the center of a whirlwind; and so quick was the succession of

overwhelming events, that one felt dazed, as it were, and if he wished to

pause and fix his attention for a moment, there instantly came, like

another flood, a succession of events which carried him along with them

without giving him time to fix his thoughts.

Succeeding these times of activity which made one's brain whirl, there

came to me the most absolute repose in an isolated retreat where I passed

another interval of fifteen years after leaving the Emperor. But what a

contrast! To those who have lived, like myself, amid the conquests and

wonders of the Empire, what is left to-day? If the strength of our

manhood was passed amid the bustle of years so short, yet so fully

occupied, our careers were sufficiently long and fruitful, and it is time

to give ourselves up to repose. We can withdraw from the world, and

close our eyes. Can it be possible to see anything equal to what we have

seen? Such scenes do not come twice in the lifetime of any man; and

having seen them, they suffice to occupy his memory through all his

remaining years, and in retirement he can find nothing better to occupy

his leisure moments than the recollections of what he has witnessed.

Thus it has been with me. The reader will readily believe that I have

had no greater pleasure than that of recalling the memories of the years

passed in the service of the Emperor. As far as possible, I have kept

myself informed as to everything that has been written of my former

master, his family, and his court; and while listening to these

narrations read by my wife and sister at our fireside, the long evenings

have passed like an instant! When I found in these books, some of which

are truly only miserable rhapsodies, statements which were incorrect,

false, or slanderous, I, took pleasure in correcting such statements, or

in showing their absurdity. My wife, who lived, as I did, in the midst

of these events, also made her corrections, and, without other object

than our own satisfaction, made notes of our joint observations.

All who came to see us in our retreat, and took pleasure in having me

narrate what I had seen, were astonished and often indignant at the

falsehoods with which ignorance or malevolence had calumniated the

Emperor and the Empire, and expressing their gratitude for the correct

information I was able to give them, advised me also to furnish it to the

public. But I attached no importance to the suggestion, and was far from

dreaming that some day I should be the author of a book, until M.

Ladvocat came to our hermitage, and urged me earnestly to publish my

memoirs, offering himself to become the publisher.

At the very time my wife and I received this unexpected visit, we were

reading together the Memoirs of Bourrienne, which the Ladvocat

publishing-house had just issued; and we had remarked more than once how

exempt these Memoirs were from both that spirit of disparagement and of

adulation which we had noticed with disgust in other books on the same

subject. M. Ladvocat advised me to complete the sketch of the Emperor,

which, owing to his elevated position and habitual occupations,

Bourrienne had been able to make only from a political point of view; and

in accordance with his advice, I shall relate in simple words, and in a

manner suited to my relations with the Emperor, those things which

Bourrienne has necessarily omitted, and which no one could know so well

as I.

I candidly admit that my objections to M. Ladvocat's advice were entirely

overcome when he called my attention to this passage in the introduction

to Bourrienne's memoirs: "If every one who had any relations with

Napoleon, whatever the time and place, will accurately and without

prejudice record what he saw and heard, the future historian of his life

will be rich in materials. I hope that whoever undertakes that difficult

task will find in my notes some information which may be useful in

perfecting his work."

Having re-read these lines attentively, I said to myself that I could

furnish memoranda and information which would refute errors, brand

falsehoods, and bring to light what I knew to be the truth. In a word, I

felt that I could give in my testimony, and that it was my duty to do so,

in the long trial which has been held ever since the overthrow of the

Emperor; for I had been an eye-witness, had seen everything, and could

say, "I was there." Others also have been close to the Emperor and his

court, and I may often repeat what they have said, for the feats which

they describe I had the same opportunity of witnessing; but, on the other

hand, whatever I know of private matters, and whatever I may reveal which

was secret and unknown, no one till this time could possibly have known,

or consequently have related.

From the departure of the First Consul for the campaign of Marengo,

whither I went with him, until the departure from Fontainebleau, when I

was compelled to leave him, I was absent only twice, once for three days

and once for seven or eight days. Excepting these short leaves of

absence, the latter of which was on account of my health, I quitted the

Emperor no more than his shadow.

It has been said that no one is a hero to his valet de chambre. I beg

leave to dissent from this. The Emperor, as near as I was to him, was

always a hero; and it was a great advantage also to see the man as he

was. At a distance you were sensible only of the prestige of his glory

and his power; but on getting closer to him you enjoyed, besides, the

surprising charm of his conversation, the entire simplicity of his family

life, and I do not hesitate to say, the habitual kindliness of his

character.

The reader, if curious to learn beforehand in what spirit these Memoirs

are written, will perhaps read with interest this passage of a letter

that I wrote to my publisher:

"Bourrienne had, perhaps, reason for treating Napoleon, as a public

man, with severity. But we view him from different standpoints, and

I speak only of the hero in undress. He was then almost always

kind, patient, and rarely unjust. He was much attached to those

about him, and received with kindness and good nature the services

of those whom he liked. He was a man of habit. It is as a devoted

servant that I wish to speak of the Emperor, and in no wise as a

critic. It is not, however, an apotheosis in several volumes that I

wish to write: for I am on this point somewhat like fathers who

recognize the faults of their children, and reprove them earnestly,

while at the same time they are ready to make excuses for their

errors."

I trust that I shall be pardoned the familiarity, or, if you will, the

inappropriateness of this comparison, for the sake of the feeling which

dictates it. Besides, I do not propose either to praise or blame, but

simply to relate that which fell within my knowledge, without trying to

prejudice the opinion of any one.

I cannot close this introduction without a few words as to myself, in

reply to the calumnies which have not spared, even in his retirement, a

man who should have no enemies, if, to be protected from malice, it were

sufficient to have done a little good, and no harm to any one. I am

reproached with having abandoned my master after his fall, and not having

shared his exile. I will show that, if I did not follow the Emperor, it

was because I lacked not the will but the power to do so. God knows that

I do not wish to undervalue the devotion of the faithful servants who

followed the fortunes of the Emperor to the end. However, it is not

improper to say that, however terrible the fall of the Emperor was for

him, the situation (I speak here only of the personal advantages), in the

island of Elba, of those who remained in his service, and who were not

detained in France by an inexorable necessity, was still not without its

advantages; and it was not, therefore, my personal interests which caused

me to leave him. I shall explain hereafter my reasons for quitting his

service.

I shall also give the truth as to the alleged abuse of confidence, of

which, according to others, I was guilty in respect to the Emperor.

A simple statement of the mistake which gave rise to this falsehood,

I trust, will clear me of every suspicion of indelicacy; but if it is

necessary to add other proofs, I could obtain them from those who lived

nearest to the Emperor, and who were in a condition to both know and

understand what passed between us; and lastly, I invoke fifty years of a

blameless life, and I can say: "When I was in a situation to render great

services, I did so; but I never sold them. I could have derived

advantages from the petitions that I made for people, who, in consequence

of my solicitations, have acquired immense fortunes; but I refused even

the proper acknowledgment which in, their gratitude (very deep at that

time) they felt compelled to offer me, by proposing an interest in their

enterprises. I did not seek to take advantage, for my own benefit, of

the generosity with which the Emperor so long deigned to honor me, in

order to enrich or secure places for my relatives; and I retired poor

after fifteen years passed in the personal service of the richest and

most powerful monarch of Europe."

Having made these statements, I shall await with confidence the judgment

of my readers.

RECOLLECTIONS OF THE PRIVATE LIFE OF NAPOLEON

CHAPTER I.

I shall refer to myself very little in these memoirs, for I am aware the

public will examine them only for details concerning the great man to

whom fortune attached me for sixteen years, and whom I scarcely quitted

during the whole of that time. Notwithstanding, I ask permission to say

a few words as to my childhood, and the circumstances which made me valet

de chambre of the Emperor.

I was born Dec. 2, 1778, at Peruelz, a town which became French on the

annexation of Belgium to the Republic, and which then belonged to the

Department of Jemmapes. Soon after my birth at the baths of Saint Amand,

my father took charge of a small establishment called the Little Chateau,

at which visitors to the waters were boarding, being aided in this

enterprise by the Prince de Croi, in whose house he had been steward.

Business prospered beyond my father's hopes, for a great number of

invalids of rank came to his house. When I attained my eleventh year,

the Count de Lure, head of one of the chief families of Valenciennes,

happened to be one of the boarders at the Little Chateau; and as that

excellent man had taken a great fancy to me, he asked my parents

permission that I should become a companion to his son, who was about.

the same age. My family had intended me for the church, to gratify one

of my uncles, who was Dean of Lessine, a man of great wisdom and rigid

virtue; and thinking that the offer of the Count de Lure would not affect

my intended destination, my father accepted it, judging that some years

passed in a family so distinguished would give me a taste for the more

serious studies necessary to fit me for the priesthood. I set out,

therefore, with the Count de Lure, much grieved at leaving my parents,

but pleased also at the same time, as is usual with one at my age, with

new scenes. The count took me to one of his estates near Tours, where I

was received with the greatest kindness by the countess and her children,

with whom I was placed on a footing of perfect equality.

Unfortunately I did not profit very long by the kindness of the count and

the lessons. I was taught at his house, for hardly a year had passed at

the chateau when we learned of the arrest of the king at Varennes. The

count and his family were in despair; and child as I was, I remember that

I was deeply pained at the news, without knowing why, but doubtless

because it is natural to share the sentiments of those with whom you

live, when they treat you with as much kindness as the count and countess

had treated me. However, I continued to enjoy the happy freedom from

care natural to youth, till one morning I was awakened by a loud noise,

and was immediately surrounded by a great number of people, none of whom

I knew, and who asked me countless questions which I could not answer.

I then learned that the count and his family had emigrated. I was

carried to the town hall, where the same questions were renewed, with the

same fruitless result; for I knew nothing of the intentions of my late

protectors, and could only reply by a flood of tears when I saw myself

abandoned and left to my own resources, at a great distance from my

family.

I was too young then to reflect on the conduct of the count; but I have

since thought that his abandonment of me was an act of delicacy on his

part, as he did not wish to make me an emigre without the consent of my

parents. I have always believed that, before his departure, the count

had committed me to the care of some one, who subsequently did not dare

to claim me, lest he should compromise himself, which was then, as is

well known, exceedingly dangerous. Behold me, then, at twelve years of

age, left without a guide, without means of support, without any one to

advise me, and without money, more than a hundred leagues from my home,

and already accustomed to the comforts of a luxurious life. It is hardly

credible that in this state of affairs I was regarded almost as a

suspect, and was required each day to present myself before the city

authorities for the greater safety of the Republic. I remember well that

whenever the Emperor was pleased to make me relate these tribulations of

my childhood, he never failed to repeat several times, "the fools,"

referring to these same city authorities. However that may be, the

authorities of Tours, coming to the conclusion, at last, that a child of

twelve was incapable of overthrowing the Republic, gave me a passport,

with the injunction to leave the city within twenty-four hours, which I

proceeded to do with a hearty good-will, but not without deep grief also

at seeing myself alone, and on foot, with a long journey before me.

After much privation and many hardships I arrived at last in the

neighborhood of Saint-Amand, which I found in the possession of the

Austrians, and that it was impossible for me to reach the town, as the

French surrounded it. In my despair I seated myself on the side of a

ditch and was weeping bitterly, when I was noticed by the chief of

squadron, Michau,

[I afterwards had the happiness of obtaining for him, from the

Emperor, a position he wished, as a place of retirement, having lost

the use of his right arm.--CONSTANT.]

who afterwards became colonel and aide-de-camp to General Loison. Michau

approached me, questioned me with great interest, and made me relate my

sad adventures, which touched him deeply, while he did not conceal his

inability to send me back to my family. He had just obtained leave of

absence, which he was going to spend with his family at Chinon, and

proposed to me to accompany him, which invitation I accepted with

gratitude. I cannot say too much of the kindness and consideration shown

me by his household during the three or four months I spent with them.

At the end of that time he took me to Paris, where I was soon after

placed in the house of M. Gobert, a rich merchant, who treated me with

the greatest, kindness.

I lately visited M. Gobert; and he recalled to me that, when we traveled

together, he gave up to me one of the seats of his carriage, upon which I

was permitted to stretch myself out and sleep. I mention this

circumstance, otherwise unimportant, to show the kindness he always

showed me.

Some years later I made the acquaintance of Carrat, who was in the

service of Madame Bonaparte while the general was absent on the Egyptian

expedition. Before relating how I came to enter her household, it is

proper to mention how Carrat himself came into her service, and at the

same time narrate some anecdotes in regard to him, which will show what

were the pastimes of the inhabitants of Malmaison at that date.

Carrat happened to be at Plombieres when Madame Bonaparte

[Madame Bonaparte, nee Marie Joseph Rose Tascher de la Pagerie,

was born in Martinique, 1763; became the widow of Viscount Alexander

de Beauharnais, 1794; married Napoleon Bonaparte March, 1796; became

Empress May 18, 1804; was divorced Dec. 16, 1809; died at Malmaison,

May 20, 1814.--TRANS.]

went there to take the waters. Every day he brought her bouquets, and

addressed to her little complimentary speeches, so singular and so droll,

that Josephine was much diverted, as were also the ladies who accompanied

her, among whom were Mesdames de Cambis and de Criguy, and especially

her own daughter Hortense, who was convulsed at his oddities. The truth

is, he was exceedingly amusing, by reason of a certain simplicity and

originality of character, which, however, did not prevent him from being

a person of intelligence; and his eccentricities did not displease Madame

Bonaparte. A sentimental scene took place when this excellent lady left

the springs. Carrat wept, bemoaned himself, and expressed his lasting

grief at not being able to see Madame Bonaparte daily, as he had been

accustomed; and Madame Bonaparte was so kind-hearted that she at once

decided to carry him to Paris with her. She taught him to dress hair,

and finally appointed him her hair-dresser and valet, at least such were

the duties he had to perform when I made his acquaintance. He was

permitted a most astonishing freedom of speech, sometimes even scolding

her; and when Madame Bonaparte, who was extremely generous and always

gracious towards every one, made presents to her women, or chatted

familiarly with them, Carrat would reproach her. "Why give that?" he

would say, adding, "See how you do, Madame; you allow yourself to jest

with your domestics. Some day they will show you a want of respect."

But if he thus endeavored to restrain the generosity of his mistress

towards those around her, he did not hesitate to stimulate her generosity

towards himself; and whenever he took a fancy to anything, would simply

say, "You ought to give me that."

Bravery is not always the inseparable companion of wit, and Carrat gave

more than once proof of this. Being endowed with a kind of simple and

uncontrollable poltroonery, which never fails in comedies to excite the

laughter of the spectators, it was a great pleasure to Madame Bonaparte

to play on him such pranks as would bring out his singular want of

courage.

It should be stated, first of all, that one of the greatest pleasures of

Madame Bonaparte, at Malmaison, was to take walks on the road just

outside the walls of the park; and she always preferred this outside

road, in spite of the clouds of dust which were constantly rising there,

to the delightful walks inside the park. One day, accompanied by her

daughter Hortense, she told Carrat to follow her in her walk; and he was

delighted to be thus honored until he saw rise suddenly out of a ditch; a

great figure covered with a white sheet, in fact, a genuine ghost, such

as I have seen described in the translations of some old English

romances.

It is unnecessary to say, that the ghost was some one placed there by

order of these ladies, in order to frighten Carrat; and certainly the

comedy succeeded marvelously well, for as soon as Carrat perceived the

ghost, he was very much frightened, and clutching Madame Bonaparte, said

to her in a tremor, "Madame, Madame, do you see that ghost? It is the

spirit of the lady who died lately at Plombieres."--"Be quiet, Carrat,

you are a coward."--"Ah, but indeed it is her spirit which has come

back." As Carrat thus spoke, the man in the white sheet advanced toward

him, shaking it; and poor Carrat, overcome with terror, fell backwards in

a faint, and it required all the attentions which were bestowed upon him

to restore him to consciousness.

Another day, while the general was still in Egypt, and consequently

before I was in the service of any member of his family, Madame Bonaparte

wished to give some of her ladies an exhibition of Carrat's cowardice;

and for this purpose there was concerted among the ladies of Malmaison

a plot, in which Mademoiselle Hortense

[Hortense Beauharnais, born at Paris, 1783, was then just sixteen

years of age. Married Louis Bonaparte and became Queen of Holland,

1806. Died 1837. She was the mother of Napoleon III. --TRANS.]

was chief conspirator. This incident has been so often narrated in my

presence by Madame Bonaparte, that I am familiar with the ludicrous

details. Carrat slept in a room adjoining which there was a closet.

A hole was made in the wall between these rooms, and a string passed

through, at the end of which was tied a can filled with water, this

cooling element being suspended exactly over the head of the patient's

bed. This was not all, for they had also taken the precaution to remove

the slats which supported the mattress; and as Carrat was in the habit of

going to sleep without a light, he saw neither the preparations for his

downfall, nor the can of water provided for his new baptism. All the

members of the plot had been waiting for some moments in the adjoining

closet; when he threw himself heavily upon his bed, it crashed in, and at

the same instant the play of the string made the can of water do its

effective work. The victim at the same time of a fall, and of a

nocturnal shower-bath, Carrat cried out against his double misfortune.

"This is horrible," he yelled at the top of his voice; while Hortense

maliciously said aloud to her mother, Madame de Crigny (afterwards Madame

Denon), Madame Charvet, and to several others in the room, "Oh, Mamma,

those toads and frogs in the water will get on him." These words, joined

to the utter darkness, served only to increase the terror of Carrat, who,

becoming seriously frightened, cried out, "It is horrible, Madame, it is

horrible, to amuse yourself thus at the expense of your servants."

I do not say that the complaints of Carrat were entirely wrong, but they.

served only to increase the gayety of the ladies who had taken him for

the object of their pleasantries.

However that may be, such was the character and position of Carrat, whom

I had known for some time, when General Bonaparte returned from his

expedition into Egypt, and Carrat said to me that Eugene de Beauharnais

had applied to him for a confidential valet, his own having been detained

in Cairo by severe illness at the time of his departure. He was named

Lefebvre, and was an old servant entirely devoted to his master, as was

every one who knew Prince Eugene; for I do not believe that there has

ever lived a better man, or one more polite, more considerate, or indeed

more attentive, to those who served him.

Carrat having told me that Eugene de Beauharnais

[Born 1781, viceroy of Italy 1805. In 1806 married the daughter

of the King of Bavaria. Died 1824. Among his descendants are the

present King of Sweden and the late Emperor of Brazil.--TRANS.]

desired a young man to replace Lefebvre, and having recommended me for

the place, I had the good fortune to be presented to Eugene, and to give

satisfaction; indeed, he was so kind as to say to me that my appearance

pleased him, and he wished me to enter upon my duties immediately. I was

delighted with this situation, which, I know not why, painted itself to

my imagination in the brightest colors, and without loss of time, went to

find my modest baggage, and behold me valet de chambre, ad interim, of M.

de Beauharnais, not dreaming that I should one day be admitted to the

personal service of General Bonaparte, and still less that I should

become the chief valet of an Emperor.

CHAPTER II.

It was on Oct. 16, 1799, that Eugene de Beauharnais arrived in Paris on

his return from Egypt; and almost immediately thereafter I had the good

fortune to be taken into his service, M. Eugene being then twenty-one

years of age. I soon after learned a few particulars, which I think are

little known, relative to his former life, and the marriage of his mother

with General Bonaparte.

His father, as is well known, was one of the victims of the Revolution;

and when the Marquis de Beauharnais had perished on the scaffold, his

widow, whose property had been confiscated, fearing that her son,

although still very young, might also be in danger on account of his

belonging to the nobility, placed him in the home of a carpenter on the

rue de l'Echelle where, a lady of my acquaintance, who lived on that

street, has often seen him passing, carrying a plank on his shoulder. It

seems a long distance from this position to the colonelcy of a regiment

of the Consular guards, and the vice-royalty of Italy.

I learned, from hearing Eugene himself relate it, by what a singular

circumstance he had been the cause of the first meeting between his

mother and his step-father. Eugene, being then not more than fourteen or

fifteen years of age, having been informed that General Bonaparte had

become possessor of the sword of the Marquis de Beauharnais, took a step

which seemed hazardous, but was crowned with success. The general having

received him graciously, Eugene explained that he came to beg of him the

restoration of his father's sword. His face, his bearing, his frank

request, all made such a pleasant impression on Bonaparte, that he

immediately presented him with the sword which he requested. As soon as

this sword was in his hands he covered it with kisses and tears; and the

whole was done in so artless a manner, that Bonaparte was delighted with

him.

Madame de Beauharnais, being informed of the welcome the general had

given her son, thought it her duty to make him a visit of gratitude.

Bonaparte, being much pleased with Josephine in this first interview,

returned her visit. They met again frequently; and as is well known, one

event led to another, until she became the first Empress of the French;

and I can assert from the numerous proofs that I have had of this fact,

that Bonaparte never ceased to love Eugene as well as if he, had been his

own son.

The qualities of Eugene were both attractive and solid. His features

were not regular, and yet his countenance prepossessed every one in his

favor. He had a well-proportioned figure, but did not make a

distinguished appearance, on account of the habit he had of swinging

himself as he walked. He was about five feet three or four inches

[About five feet six or seven inches in English measurement.--TRANS.]

in height. He was kind, gay, amiable, full of wit, intelligent,

generous; and it might well be said that his frank and open countenance

was the mirror of his soul. How many services he has rendered others

during the course of his life, and at the very period when in order to do

so he had often to impose privations on himself.

It will soon be seen how it happened that I passed only a month with

Eugene; but during this short space of time, I recall that, while

fulfilling scrupulously his duties to his mother and his step-father, he

was much addicted to the pleasures so natural to his age and position.

One of his greatest pleasures was entertaining his friends at breakfast;

which he did very often. This amused me much on account of the comical

scenes of which I was often a witness. Besides the young officers of

Bonaparte's staff, his most frequent guests, he had also frequently at

his table the ventriloquist Thiemet, Dugazon, Dazincourt, and Michau of

the Theatre Francais, and a few other persons, whose names escape me at

this moment. As may be imagined, these reunions were extremely gay;

these young officers especially, who had returned like Eugene from the

expedition to Egypt, seemed trying to indemnify themselves for the recent

privations they had had to suffer. At this time ventriloquists, among

whom Thiemet held a very distinguished position, were the fashion in

Paris, and were invited to private gatherings. I remember on one

occasion, at one of these breakfasts of Eugene's, Thiemet called by their

names several persons present, imitating the voices of their servants, as

if they were just outside the door, while he remained quietly in his

seat, appearing to be using his lips only to eat and drink, two duties'

which he performed admirably. Each of the officers called in this manner

went out, and found no one; and then Thiemet went out with them, under

the pretext of assisting them in the search, and increased their

perplexity by continuing to make them hear some well-known voice. Most

of them laughed heartily at the joke of which they had just been the

victims; but there was one who, having himself less under control than

his comrades, took the thing seriously, and became very angry, whereupon

Eugene had to avow that he was the author of the conspiracy.

I recall still another amusing scene, the two heroes of which were this

same Thiemet, of whom I have just spoken, and Dugazon. Several

foreigners were present at a breakfast given by Eugene, the parts having

been assigned, and learned in advance, and the two victims selected.

When each had taken his place at table, Dugazon, pretending to stammer,

addressed a remark to Thiemet, who, playing the same role, replied to

him, stammering likewise; then each of them pretended to believe that the

other was making fun of him, and there followed a stuttering quarrel

between the two parties, each one finding it more and more difficult to

express himself as his anger rose. Thiemet, who besides his role of

stammering was also playing that of deafness, addressed his neighbor, his

trumpet in his ear:

"Wha-wha-what-do-does he say?"--"Nothing," replied the officious

neighbor, wishing to prevent a quarrel, and to supply facts while

defending the other stammerer.--"So-so-he-he-he-he's mamaking fun of me!"

Then the quarrel became more violent still; they were about to come to

blows, when each of the two stammerers seizing a carafe of water, hurled

it at the head of his antagonist, and a copious deluge of water from the

bottles taught the officious neighbors the great danger of acting as

peacemakers. The two stammerers continued to scream as is the custom of

deaf persons, until the last drop of water was spilt; and I remember that

Eugene, the originator of this practical joke, laughed immoderately the

whole time this scene lasted. The water was wiped off; and all were soon

reconciled, glass in hand. Eugene, when he had perpetrated a joke of

this sort, never failed to relate it to his mother, and sometimes to his

stepfather, who were much amused thereby, Josephine especially.

I had led for one month a very pleasant life with Eugene, when Lefebvre,

the valet de chambre whom he had left sick at Cairo, returned in restored

health, and asked to resume his place. Eugene, whom I suited better on

account of my age and activity, proposed to him to enter his mother's

service, suggesting to him that he would there have an easier time than

with himself; but Lefebvre, who was extremely attached to his master,

sought Madame Bonaparte, and confided to her his chagrin at this

decision.

Josephine promised to assist him; and consoled him by assurances that she

would suggest to her son that Lefebvre should reassume his former

position, and that she would take me into her own service. This was done

according to promise; and one morning Eugene announced to me, in the most

gratifying manner, my change of abode. "Constant," he said to me,

"I regret very much that circumstances require us to part; but you know

Lefebvre followed me to Egypt, he is an old servant, and I feel compelled

to give him his former position. Besides, you will not be far removed,

as you will enter my mother's service, where you will be well treated,

and we will see each other often. Go to her this morning; I have spoken

to her of you. The matter is already arranged, and she expects you."

As may be believed, I lost no time in presenting myself to Madame

Bonaparte. Knowing that she was at Malmaison, I went there immediately,

and was received by her with a kindness which overwhelmed me with

gratitude, as I was not then aware that she manifested this same

graciousness to every one, and that it was as inseparable from her

character as was grace from her person. The duties required of me, in

her service, were altogether nominal; and nearly all my time was at my

own disposal, of which I took advantage to visit Paris frequently. The

life that I led at this time was very pleasant to a young man like

myself, who could not foresee that in a short while he would be as much

under subjection as he was then at liberty.

Before bidding adieu to a service in which I had found so much that was

agreeable, I will relate some incidents which belong to that period, and

which my situation with the stepson of General Bonaparte gave me the

opportunity of learning.

M. de Bourrienne has related circumstantially in his memoirs the events

of the 18th Brumaire; [The 18th Brumaire, Nov. 9, 1799, was the day

Napoleon overthrew the Directory and made himself First Consul.--TRANS.]

and the account which he has given of that famous day is as correct as it

is interesting, so that any one curious to know the secret causes which

led to these political changes will find them faithfully pointed out in

the narration of that minister of state. I am very far from intending to

excite an interest of this, kind, but reading the work of M. Bourrienne

put me again on the track of my own recollections. These memoirs relate

to circumstances of which he was ignorant, or possibly may have omitted

purposely as being of little importance; and whatever he has let fall on

his road I think myself fortunate in being permitted to glean.

I was still with Eugene de Beauharnais when General Bonaparte overthrew

the Directory; but I found myself in as favorable a situation to know all

that was passing as if I had been in the service of Madame Bonaparte, or

of the general himself, for my master, although he was very young, had

the entire confidence of his stepfather, and, to an even greater degree,

that of his mother, who consulted him on every occasion.

A few days before the 18th Brumaire, Eugene ordered me to make

preparations for a breakfast he wished to give on that day to his

friends, the number of the guests, all military men, being much larger

than usual. This bachelor repast was made very gay by an officer, who

amused the company by imitating in turn the manners and appearance of the

directors and a few of their friends. To represent the Director Barras,

he draped himself 'a la grecque' with the tablecloth, took off his black

cravat, turned down his shirt-collar, and advanced in an affected manner,

resting his left arm on the shoulder of the youngest of his comrades,

while with his right he pretended to caress his chin. Each person of the

company understood the meaning of that kind of charade; and there were

uncontrollable bursts of laughter.

He undertook then to represent the Abbe Sieyes, by placing an enormous

band of paper inside of his neckcloth, and lengthening thus indefinitely

a long, pale face. He made a few turns around the room, astraddle of his

chair, and ended by a grand somersault, as if his steed had dismounted

him. It is necessary to know, in order to understand the significance of

this pantomime, that the Abbe Sieges had been recently taking lessons in

horseback, riding in the garden of the Luxembourg, to the great amusement

of the pedestrians, who gathered in crowds to enjoy the awkward and

ungraceful exhibition made by this new master of horse.

The breakfast ended, Eugene reported for duty to General Bonaparte, whose

aide-de-camp he was, and his friends rejoined the various commands to

which they belonged.

I went out immediately behind them; for from a few words that had just

been dropped at my young master's, I suspected that something grave and

interesting was about to take place. M. Eugene had appointed a

rendezvous with his comrades at Pont-Tournant; so I repaired to that

spot, and found a considerable gathering of officers in uniform and on

horseback, assembled in readiness to escort General Bonaparte to

Saint-Cloud.

The commandant of each part of the army had been requested by General

Bonaparte to give a breakfast to their corps of officers; and they had

done so like my young master. Nevertheless, the officers, even the

generals, were not all in the secret; and General Murat himself, who

rushed into the Hall of the Five Hundred at the head of the grenadiers,

believed that it was only a question of exemption, on account of age,

that General Bonaparte intended to propose, in order that he might obtain

the place of director.

I have learned from an authoritative source, that when General Jube, who

was devoted to General Bonaparte, assembled in the court of the

Luxembourg, the guard of the directors of which he was commander, the

honest M. Gohier, president of the Directory, put his head out of the

window, and cried to Jube: "Citizen General, what are you doing down

there?"--"Citizen President, you can see for yourself I am mustering the

guard."--"Certainly, I see that very plainly, Citizen General; but why

are you mustering them?"--"Citizen President, I am going to make an

inspection of them, and order a grand maneuver. Forward--march!" And

the citizen general filed out at the head of his troop to rejoin General

Bonaparte at Saint-Cloud; while the latter was awaited at the house of

the citizen president, and the breakfast delayed to which General

Bonaparte had been invited for that very morning.

General Marmont had also entertained at breakfast the officers of the

division of the army which he commanded (it was, I think, the artillery).

At the end of the repast he addressed a few words to them, urging them

not to alienate their cause from that of the conqueror of Italy, and to

accompany him to Saint-Cloud. "But how can we follow him?" cried one of

his guests. "We have no horses."--"If that alone deters you, you will

find horses in the court of this hotel. I have seized all those of the

national riding-school. Let us go below and mount." All the officers

present responded to the invitation except General Allix, who declared he

would take no part in all this disturbance.

I was at Saint-Cloud on the two days, 18th and 19th Brumaire. I saw

General Bonaparte harangue the soldiers, and read to them the decree by

which he had been made commander-in-chief of all the troops at Paris, and

of the whole of the Seventeenth Military Division. I saw him come out

much agitated first from the Council of the Ancients, and afterwards from

the Assembly of the Five Hundred. I saw Lucien Bonaparte brought out of

the hall, where the latter assembly was sitting, by some grenadiers, sent

in to protect him from the violence of his colleagues. Pale and furious,

he threw himself on his horse and galloped straight to the troops to

address them; and when he pointed his sword at his brother's breast,

saying he would be the first to slay him if he dared to strike at

liberty, cries of "Vive Bonaparte! down with the lawyers!" burst forth

on all sides; and the soldiers, led by General Murat, rushed into the

Hall of the Five Hundred. Everybody knows what then occurred, and I will

not enter into details which have been so often related.

The general, now made First Consul, installed himself at the Luxembourg,

though at this time he resided also at Malmaison. But he was often on

the road, as was also Josephine; for their trips to Paris when they

occupied this residence were very frequent, not only on Government

business, which often required the presence of the First Consul, but also

for the purpose of attending the theater, of whose performances General

Bonaparte, was very fond, giving the preference always to the Theatre

Francais and the Italian Opera. This observation I make in passing,

preferring to give hereafter the information I have obtained as to the

tastes and habits of the emperor.

Malmaison, at the period of which I speak, was a place of unalloyed

happiness, where all who came expressed their satisfaction with the state

of affairs; everywhere also I heard blessings invoked upon the First

Consul and Madame Bonaparte. There was not yet the shadow of that strict

etiquette which it was necessary afterwards to observe at Saint-Cloud, at

the Tuileries, and in all the palaces in which the Emperor held his

court. The consular court was as yet distinguished by a simple elegance,

equally removed from republican rudeness and the luxuriousness of the

Empire. Talleyrand was, at this period, one of those who came most

frequently to Malmaison. He sometimes dined there, but arrived generally

in the evening between eight and nine o'clock, and returned at one, two,

and sometimes three in the morning.

All were admitted at Madame Bonaparte's on a footing of equality, which

was most gratifying. There came familiarly Murat, Duroc, Berthier, and

all those who have since figured as great dignitaries, and some even as

sovereigns, in the annals of the empire.

The family of General Bonaparte were assiduous in their attentions; but

it was known among us that they had no love for Madame Bonaparte, of

which fact I had many proofs. Mademoiselle Hortense never left her

mother, and they were devotedly attached to each other.

Besides men distinguished by their posts under the government or in the

army, there gathered others also who were not less distinguished by

personal merit, or the position which their birth had given them before

the Revolution. It was a veritable panorama, in which we saw the persons

themselves pass before our eyes. The scene itself, even exclusive of the

gayety which always attended the dinings of Eugene, had its attractions.

Among those whom we saw most frequently were Volney, Denon, Lemercier,

the Prince of Poix, de Laigle, Charles Baudin, General Beurnonville,

Isabey, and a number of others, celebrated in science, literature, and

art; in short, the greater part of those who composed the society of

Madame de Montesson.

Madame Bonaparte and Mademoiselle Hortense often took excursions on

horseback into the country. On these occasions her most constant escorts

were the Prince de Poix and M. de Laigle. One day, as this party was

reentering the court-yard at Malmaison, the horse which Hortense rode

became frightened, and dashed off. She was an accomplished rider, and

very active, so she attempted to spring off on the grass by the roadside;

but the band which fastened the end of her riding-skirt under her foot

prevented her freeing herself quickly, and she was thrown, and dragged by

her horse for several yards. Fortunately the gentlemen of the party,

seeing her fall, sprang from their horses in time to rescue her; and, by

extraordinary good fortune, she was not even bruised, and was the first

to laugh at her misadventure.

During the first part of my stay at Malmaison, the First Consul always

slept with his wife, like an ordinary citizen of the middle classes in

Paris; and I heard no rumor of any intrigue in the chateau. The persons

of this society, most of whom were young, and who were often very

numerous, frequently took part in sports which recalled college days.

In fact, one of the greatest diversions of the inhabitants of Malmaison

was to play "prisoners' base." It was usually after dinner; and

Bonaparte, Lauriston, Didelot, de Lucay, de Bourrienne, Eugene, Rapp,

Isabey, Madame Bonaparte, and Mademoiselle Hortense would divide

themselves into two camps, in which the prisoners taken, or exchanged,

would recall to the First Consul the greater game, which he so much

preferred. In these games the most active runners were Eugene, Isabey,

and Hortense. As to General Bonaparte, he often fell, but rose laughing

boisterously.

General Bonaparte and his family seemed to enjoy almost unexampled

happiness, especially when at Malmaison, which residence, though

agreeable at that time, was far from being what it has since become.

This estate consisted of the chateau, which Bonaparte found in bad

condition on his return from Egypt, a park already somewhat improved, and

a farm, the income of which did not with any certainty exceed twelve

thousand francs a year. Josephine directed in person all the

improvements made there, and no woman ever possessed better taste.

From the first, they played amateur comedy at Malmaison, which was a

relaxation the First Consul enjoyed greatly, but in which he took no part

himself except that of looker-on. Every one in the house attended these

representations; and I must confess we felt perhaps even more pleasure

than others in seeing thus travestied on the stage those in whose service

we were.

The Malmaison Troupe, if I may thus style actors of such exalted social

rank, consisted principally of Eugene, Jerome, Lauriston, de Bourrienne,

Isabey, de Leroy, Didelot, Mademoiselle Hortense, Madame Caroline Murat,

and the two Mademoiselles Auguie, one of whom afterwards married Marshal

Ney,

[Michel Ney, Styled by Napoleon the "bravest of the brave," was

born 1769, at Sarre-Louis (now in Prussia), son of a cooper.

Entered the army as a private 1787, adjutant-general 1794, general

of brigade 1796, general of division 1799, marshal 1804, Duke of

Elchingen 1805, Prince of Moskwa 1812, and commanded the rear-guard

in the famous retreat from Russia. On the return from Elba he went

over to Napoleon; was at Waterloo. Was afterwards taken, and in

spite of the terms of the surrender of Paris was tried for treason,

and shot in the gardens of the Luxembourg, Dec. 8, 1815.--TRANS.]

and the other M. de Broc. All four were very young and charming, and few

theaters in Paris could show four actresses as pretty. In addition to

which, they showed much grace in their acting, and played their parts

with real talent; and were as natural on the stage as in the saloon,

where they bore themselves with exquisite grace and refinement. At first

the repertoire contained little variety, though the pieces were generally

well selected. The first representation which I attended was the "Barber

of Seville" in which Isabey played the role of Figaro, and Mademoiselle

Hortense that of Rosine--and the "Spiteful Lover." Another time I saw

played the "Unexpected Wager," and "False Consultations." Hortense and

Eugene played this last piece perfectly; and I still recall that, in the

role of Madame le Blanc, Hortense appeared prettier than ever in the

character of an old woman, Eugene representing Le Noir, and Lauriston the

charlatan. The First Consul, as I have said, confined himself to the

role of spectator; but he seemed to take in these fireside plays, so to

speak, the greatest pleasure, laughed and applauded heartily, though

sometimes he also criticised.

Madame Bonaparte was also highly entertained; and even if she could not

always boast of the successful acting of her children, "the chiefs of the

troupe," it sufficed her that it was an agreeable relaxation to her

husband, and seemed to give him pleasure; for her constant study was to

contribute to the happiness of the great man who had united her destiny

with his own.

When the day for the presentation of a play had been appointed, there was

never any postponement, but often a change of the play; not because of

the indisposition, or fit of the blues, of an actress (as often happens

in the theaters of Paris), but for more serious reasons. It sometimes

happened that M. d'Etieulette received orders to rejoin his regiment, or

an important mission was confided to Count Almaviva, though Figaro and

Rosine always remained at their posts; and the desire of pleasing the

First Consul was, besides, so general among all those who surrounded him,

that the substitutes did their best in the absence of the principals, and

the play never failed for want of an actor.

[Michau, of the Comedie Francaise, was the instructor of the

troupe. Wherever it happened that an actor was wanting in

animation, Michau would exclaim. "Warmth! Warmth! Warmth!"

--Note by CONSTANT.]

CHAPTER III.

I had been only a very short time in the service of Madame Bonaparte when

I made the acquaintance of Charvet, the concierge of Malmaison, and in

connection with this estimable man became each day more and more

intimate, till at last he gave me one of his daughters in marriage.

I was eager to learn from him all that he could tell me concerning Madame

Bonaparte and the First Consul prior to my entrance into the house; and

in our frequent conversations he took the greatest pleasure in satisfying

my curiosity. It is to him I owe the following details as to the mother

and daughter.

When General Bonaparte set out for Egypt, Madame Bonaparte accompanied

him as far as Toulon, and was extremely anxious to go with him to Egypt.

When the general made objections, she observed that having been born a

Creole, the heat of the climate would be more favorable than dangerous to

her. By a singular coincidence it was on 'La Pomone' that she wished to

make the journey; that is to say, on the very same vessel which in her

early youth had brought her from Martinique to France. General

Bonaparte, finally yielding to the wishes of his wife, promised to send

'La Pomone' for her, and bade her go in the meantime to take the waters

at Plombieres. The matter being arranged between husband and wife,

Madame Bonaparte was delighted to go to the springs of Plombieres which

she had desired to visit for a long time, knowing, like every one else,

the reputation these waters enjoyed for curing barrenness in women.

Madame Bonaparte had been only a short time at Plombieres, when one

morning, while occupied in hemming a turban and chatting with the ladies

present, Madame de Cambis, who was on the balcony, called to her to come

and see a pretty little dog passing along the street. All the company

hastened with Madame Bonaparte to the balcony, which caused it to fall

with a frightful crash. By a most fortunate chance, no one was killed;

though Madame de Cambis had her leg broken, and Madame Bonaparte was most

painfully bruised, without, however, receiving any fracture. Charvet,

who was in a room behind the saloon, heard the noise, and at once had a

sheep killed and skinned, and Madame Bonaparte wrapped in the skin. It

was a long while before she regained her health, her arms and her hands

especially being so bruised that she was for a long time unable to use

them; and it was necessary to cut up her food, feed her, and, in fact,

perform the same offices for her as for an infant.

I related above that Josephine thought she was to rejoin her husband in

Egypt, and consequently that her stay at the springs of Plombieres would

be of short duration but her accident led her to think that it would be

prolonged indefinitely; she therefore desired, while waiting for her

complete recovery, to have with her her daughter Hortense, then about

fifteen years of age, who was being educated in the boarding-school of

Madame Campan. She sent for her a mulatto woman to whom she was much

attached, named Euphemie, who was the foster-sister of Madame Bonaparte,

and passed (I do not know if the supposition was correct) as her natural

sister. Euphemie, accompanied by Charvet, made the journey in one of

Madame Bonaparte's carriages. Mademoiselle Hortense, on their arrival,

was delighted with the journey she was about to make, and above all with

the idea of being near her mother, for whom she felt the tenderest

affection. Mademoiselle Hortense was, I would not say, greedy, but she

was exceedingly fond of sweets; and Charvet, in relating these details,

said to me, that at each town of any size through which they passed the

carriage was filled with bonbons and dainties, of which mademoiselle

consumed a great quantity. One day, while Euphemie and Charvet were

sound asleep, they were suddenly awakened by a report, which sounded

frightful to them, and caused them intense anxiety, as they found when

they awoke that they were passing through a thick forest. This ludicrous

incident threw Hortense into fits of laughter; for hardly had they

expressed their alarm when they found themselves deluged with an

odoriferous froth, which explained the cause of the explosion. A bottle

of champagne, placed in one of the pockets of the carriage, had been

uncorked; and the heat, added to the motion of the carriage, or rather

the malice of the young traveler, had made it explode with a loud report.

When mademoiselle arrived at Plombieres, her mother's health was almost

restored; so that the pupil of Madame Campan found there all the

distractions which please and delight at the age which the daughter of

Madame Bonaparte had then attained.

There is truth in the saying that in all evil there is good, for had this

accident not happened to Madame Bonaparte, it is very probable she would

have become a prisoner of the English; in fact, she learned that

'La Pomone', the vessel on which she wished to make the voyage, had

fallen into the power of the enemies of France. General Bonaparte, in

all his letters, still dissuaded his wife from the plan she had of

rejoining him; and, consequently, she returned to Paris.

On her arrival Josephine devoted her attention to executing a wish

General Bonaparte had expressed to her before leaving. He had remarked

to her that he should like, on his return, to have a country seat; and he

charged his brother to attend to this, which Joseph, however, failed to

do. Madame Bonaparte, who, on the contrary, was always in search of what

might please her husband, charged several persons to make excursions in

the environs of Paris, in order to ascertain whether a suitable dwelling

could be found. After having vacillated long between Ris and Malmaison,

she decided on the latter, which she bought from M. Lecoulteux-Dumoley,

for, I think, four hundred thousand francs. Such were the particulars

which Charvet was kind enough to give me when I first entered the service

of Madame Bonaparte. Every one in the house loved to speak of her; and

it was certainly not to speak evil, for never was woman more beloved by

all who surrounded her, and never has one deserved it more. General

Bonaparte was also an excellent man in the retirement of private life.

After the return of the First Consul from his campaign in Egypt, several

attempts against his life had been made; and the police had warned him

many times to be on his guard, and not to risk himself alone in the

environs of Malmaison. The First Consul had been very careless up to

this period; but the discovery of the snares which were laid for him,

even in the privacy of his family circle, forced him to use precautions

and prudence. It has been stated since, that these pretended plots were

only fabrications of the police to render themselves necessary to the

First Consul, or, perhaps, of the First Consul himself, to redouble the

interest which attached to his person, through fear of the perils which

menaced his life; and the absurdity of these attempts is alleged as proof

of this. I could not pretend to elucidate such mysteries; but it seems

to me that in such matters absurdity proves nothing, or, at least, it

does not prove that such plots did not exist. The conspirators of that

period set no bounds to their extravagance; for what could be more

absurd, and at the same time more real, than the atrocious folly of the

infernal machine?

Be that as it may, I shall relate what passed under my own eyes during

the first month of my stay at Malmaison. No one there, or, at least, no

one in my presence, showed the least doubt of the reality of these

attempts.

In order to get rid of the First Consul, all means appeared good to his

enemies: they noted everything in their calculations, even his absence of

mind. The following occurrence is proof of this:

There were repairs and ornamentations to be made to the mantel in the

rooms of the First Consul at Malmaison. The contractor in charge of this

work had sent marblecutters, amongst whom had slipped in, it seems, a few

miserable wretches employed by the conspirators. The persons attached to

the First Consul were incessantly on the alert, and exercised the

greatest watchfulness; and it was observed that among these workmen there

were men who pretended to work, but whose air and manner contrasted

strongly with their occupation. These suspicions were unfortunately only

too well founded; for when the apartments had been made ready to receive

the First Consul, and just as he was on the eve of occupying them, some

one making a final inspection found on the desk at which he would first

seat himself, a snuff-box, in every respect like one of those which he

constantly used. It was thought at first that this box really belonged

to him, and that it had been forgotten and left there by his valet; but

doubts inspired by the suspicious manner of a few of the marble-cutters,

leading to further investigation, the tobacco was examined and analyzed.

It was found to be poisoned.

The authors of this perfidy had, it is said, at this time, communication

with other conspirators, who engaged to attempt another means of ridding

themselves of the First Consul. They promised to attack the guard of the

chateau (Malmaison), and to carry off by force the chief of the

government. With this intention, they had uniforms made like those of

the consular guards, who then stood sentinel, day and night, over the

First Consul, and followed him on horseback in his excursions. In this

costume, and by the aid of signals, with their accomplices (the pretended

marble-cutters) on the inside, they could easily have approached and

mingled with the guard, who were fed and quartered at the chateau. They

could even have reached the First Consul, and carried him off. However,

this first project was abandoned as too uncertain; and the conspirators

flattered themselves that they would succeed in their undertaking more

surely, and with less danger, by taking advantage of the frequent

journeys of the First Consul to Paris. By means of their disguise they

planned to distribute themselves on the road, among the guides of the

escort, and massacre them, their rallying-point being the quarries of

Nanterre; but their plots were for the second time foiled. There was in

the park at Malmaison a deep quarry; and fears being entertained that

they would profit by it to conceal themselves therein, and exercise some

violence against the First Consul on one of his solitary walks, it was

decided to secure it with an iron door.

On the 19th of February, at one in the afternoon, the First Consul went

in state to the Tuileries, which was then called the Government palace,

to install himself there with all his household. With him were his two

colleagues; one of whom, the third consul, was to occupy the same

residence, and be located in the Pavilion de Flore. The carriage of the

consuls was drawn by six white horses, which the Emperor of Germany had

presented to the conqueror of Italy after the signature of the treaty of

peace of Campo-Formio. The saber that the First Consul wore at this

ceremony was magnificent, and had also been presented to him by this

monarch on the same occasion.

A remarkable thing in this formal change of residence was that the

acclamations and enthusiasm of the crowd, and even of the most

distinguished spectators, who filled the windows of rue Thionville and of

the quai Voltaire, were addressed only to the First Consul, and to the

young warriors of his brilliant staff, who were yet bronzed by the sun of

the Pyramids or of Italy. At their head rode General Lannes and Murat;

the first easy to recognize by his bold bearing and soldierly manners;

the second by the same qualities, and further by a striking elegance,

both of costume and equipments. His new title of brother-in-law of the

First Consul contributed, also, greatly to fix upon him the attention of

all. As for myself, all my attention was absorbed by the principal

personage of the cortege, whom, like every one around me, I regarded with

something like a religious reverence; and by his stepson, the son of my

excellent mistress, himself once my master,--the brave, modest, good

Prince Eugene, who at that time, however, was not yet a prince. On his

arrival at the Tuileries, the First Consul took possession at once of the

apartments which he afterwards occupied, and which were formerly part of

the royal apartments. These apartments consisted of a bed-chamber, a

bathroom, a cabinet, and a saloon, in which he gave audience in the

forenoon; of a second saloon, in which were stationed his aides-de-camp

on duty, and which he used as a dining-room; and also a very large

antechamber. Madame Bonaparte had her separate apartments on the ground

floor, the same which she afterwards occupied as Empress. Beneath the

suite of rooms occupied by the First Consul was the room of Bourrienne,

his private secretary, which communicated with the apartments of the

First Consul by means of a private staircase.

Although at this period there were already courtiers, there was not,

however, yet a court, and the etiquette was exceedingly simple. The

First Consul, as I believe I have already said, slept in the same bed

with his wife; and they lived together, sometimes at the Tuileries,

sometimes at Malmaison. As yet there were neither grand marshal, nor

chamberlains, nor prefects of the palace, nor ladies of honor, nor lady

ushers, nor ladies of the wardrobe, nor pages. The household of the

First Consul was composed only of M. Pfister, steward; Venard, chief

cook; Galliot, and Dauger, head servants; Colin, butler. Ripeau was

librarian; Vigogne, senior, in charge of the stables. Those attached to

his personal service were Hambard, head valet; Herbert, ordinary valet;

and Roustan, mameluke of the First Consul. There were, beside these,

fifteen persons to discharge the ordinary duties of the household. De

Bourrienne superintended everything, and regulated expenses, and,

although very strict, won the esteem and affection of every one.

He was kind, obliging, and above all very just; and consequently at the

time of his disgrace the whole household was much distressed. As for

myself, I retain a sincerely respectful recollection of him; and I

believe that, though he has had the misfortune to find enemies among the

great, he found among his inferiors only grateful hearts and sincere

regrets.

Some days after this installation, there was at the chateau a reception

of the diplomatic corps. It will be seen from the details, which I shall

give, how very simple at that time was the etiquette of what they already

called the Court.

At eight o'clock in the evening, the apartments of Madame Bonaparte,

situated, as I have just said, on the ground floor adjoining the garden,

were crowded with people. There was an incredible wealth of plumes,

diamonds, and dazzling toilets. The crowd was so great that it was found

necessary to throw open the bedroom of Madame Bonaparte, as the two

saloons were so full there was not room to move.

When, after much embarrassment and difficulty, every one had found a

place as they could, Madame Bonaparte was announced, and entered, leaning

on the arm of Talleyrand. She wore a dress of white muslin with short

sleeves, and a necklace of pearls. Her head was uncovered; and the

beautiful braids of her hair, arranged with charming negligence, were

held in place by a tortoise-shell comb. The flattering murmur which

greeted her appearance was most grateful to her; and never, I believe,

did she display more grace and majesty.

Talleyrand,

[Charles Maurice de Talleyrand-Perigord, born at Paris, 1754, was

descended from the counts of Perigord. Rendered lame by an

accident, he entered the clergy, and in 1788 became Bishop of Autun.

In the States-General he sided with the Revolution. During the

Reign of Terror he visited England and the United States. Recalled

in 1796, he became minister of foreign affairs under the Directory,

which post he retained under the Consulate. In 1806 he was made

Prince of Benevento. He soon fell into disgrace. Sided with the

Bourbons in 1814, and was minister at the congress of Vienna,

president of the council, and minister under the king. Died 1838.

--TRANS.]

giving his hand to Madame Bonaparte, had the honor of presenting to her,

one after another, the members of the Diplomatic Corps, not according to

their names, but that of the courts they represented. He then made with

her the tour of the two saloons, and the circuit of the second was only

half finished when the First Consul entered without being announced. He

was dressed in a very plain uniform, with a tricolored silk scarf, with

fringes of the same around his waist. He wore close-fitting pantaloons

of white cassimere, and top-boots, and held his hat in his hand. This

plain dress, in the midst of the embroidered coats loaded with cordons

and orders worn by the ambassadors and foreign dignitaries, presented a

contrast as striking as the toilette of Madame Bonaparte compared with

that of the other ladies present.

Before relating how I exchanged the service of Madame Bonaparte for that

of the chief of state, and a sojourn at Malmaison for the second campaign

of Italy, I think I should pause to recall one or two incidents which

belong to the time spent in the service of Madame Bonaparte. She loved

to sit up late, and, when almost everybody else had retired, to play a

game of billiards, or more often of backgammon. It happened on one

occasion that, having dismissed every one else, and not yet being sleepy,

she asked if I knew how to play billiards, and upon my replying in the

affirmative, requested me with charming grace to play with her; and I had

often afterwards the honor of doing so. Although I had some skill, I

always managed to let her beat me, which pleased her exceedingly. If

this was flattery, I must admit it; but I would have done the same

towards any other woman, whatever her rank and her relation to me, had

she been even half as lovely as was Madame Bonaparte.

The concierge of Malmaison, who possessed the entire confidence of his

employers, among other means of precaution and watchfulness conceived by

him in order to protect the residence and person of the First Consul from

any sudden attack, had trained for the chateau several large dogs, among

which were two very handsome Newfoundlands. Work on the improvements of

Malmaison went on incessantly, and a large number of workmen lodged there

at night, who were carefully warned not to venture out alone; but one

night as some of the watchdogs were with the workmen in their lodgings,

and allowed themselves to be caressed, their apparent docility encouraged

one of these men to attempt the imprudence of venturing out. Believing

that the surest way to avoid danger was to put himself under the

protection of one of those powerful animals, he took one of them with

him, and in a very friendly manner they passed out of the door together;

but no sooner had they reached the outside, than the dog sprang upon his

unfortunate companion and threw him down. The cries of the poor workman

brought some of the guard, who ran to his aid. Just in time; for the dog

was holding him fast to the ground, and had seized him by the throat. He

was rescued, badly wounded. Madame Bonaparte, when she was informed of

this accident, had him nursed till perfectly cured, and gave him a

handsome gratuity, but recommended him to be more prudent in the future.

Every moment that the First Consul could snatch from affairs of state he

passed at Malmaison. The evening of each decadii

[Under the Republic, Sunday was abolished. A decade of ten days

was substituted for the week; and the decadi, or tenth day, took the

place of the Sabbath.--TRANS.]

was a time of expectation and joy at the chateau. Madame Bonaparte sent

domestics on horseback and on foot to meet her husband, and often went

herself, accompanied by her daughter and her Malmaison friends. When not

on duty, I went myself and alone: for everybody felt for the First

Consul the same affection, and experienced in regard to him the same

anxiety; and such was the bitterness and boldness of his enemies that the

road, though short, between Paris and Malmaison was full of dangers and

snares. We knew that many plans had been laid to kidnap him on this

road, and that these attempts might be renewed. The most dangerous spot

was the quarries of Nanterre, of which I have already spoken; so they

were carefully examined, and guarded by his followers each day on which

the First Consul was to pass, and finally the depressions nearest the

road were filled up. The First Consul was gratified by our devotion to

him, and gave us proofs of his satisfaction, though he himself seemed

always free from fear or uneasiness. Very often, indeed, he mildly

ridiculed our anxiety, and would relate very seriously to the good

Josephine what a narrow escape he had on the road; how men of a sinister

appearance had shown themselves many times on his way; how one of them

had had the boldness to aim at him, etc. And when he saw her well

frightened, he would burst out laughing, give her some taps or kisses on

her cheek and neck, saying to her, "Have no fear, little goose; they

would not dare." On these "days of furlough," as he called them, he was

occupied more with his private affairs than with those of state; but

never could he remain idle. He would make them pull down, put up again,

build, enlarge, set out, prune, incessantly, both in the chateau and in

the park, while he examined the bills of expenses, estimated receipts,

and ordered economies. Time passed quickly in all these occupations; and

the moment soon came when it was necessary to return, and, as he

expressed it, put on again the yoke of misery.

CHAPTER IV.

Towards the end of March, 1800, five or six months after my entrance into

the service of Madame. Bonaparte, the First Consul while at dinner one

day regarded me intently; and having carefully scrutinized and measured

me from head to foot, "Young man," said he, "would you like to go with me

on the campaign?" I replied, with much emotion, that I would ask nothing

better. "Very well, then, you shall go with me!" and on rising from the

table, he ordered Pfister, the steward, to place my name on the list of

the persons of his household who would accompany him. My preparations

did not require much time; for I was delighted with the idea of being

attached to the personal service of so great a man, and in imagination

saw myself already beyond the Alps. But the First Consul set out without

me. Pfister, by a defect of memory, perhaps intentional, had forgotten

to place my name on the list. I was in despair, and went to relate, with

tears, my misfortune to my excellent mistress, who was good enough to

endeavor to console me, saying, "Well, Constant, everything is not lost;

you will stay with me. You can hunt in the park to pass the time; and

perhaps the First Consul may yet send for you." However, Madame

Bonaparte did not really believe this; for she thought, as I did,

although out of kindness she did not wish to say this to me, that the

First Consul having changed his mind, and no longer wishing my services

on the campaign, had himself given the counter orders. However, I soon

had proof to the contrary. In passing through Dijon, on his way to Mt.

St. Bernard, the First Consul asked for me, and learning that they had

forgotten me, expressed his dissatisfaction, and directed Bourrienne to

write immediately to Madame Bonaparte, requesting her to send me on

without delay.

One morning, when my chagrin was more acute than ever, Madame Bonaparte

sent for me, and said, holding Bourrienne's letter in her hand,

"Constant, since you have determined to quit us to make the campaign, you

may rejoice, for you are now about to leave. The First Consul has sent

for you. Go to the office of Maret, and ascertain if he will not soon

send a courier. You will accompany him." I was inexpressibly delighted

at this good news, and did not try to conceal my pleasure. "You are very

well satisfied to leave us," said Madame Bonaparte with a kind smile.

"It is not leaving Madame, but joining the First Consul, which delights

me."--"I hope so," replied she. "Go, Constant; and take good care of

him." If any incentive had been needed, this injunction of my noble

mistress would have added to the zeal and fidelity with which I had

determined to discharge my new duties. I hurried without delay to the

office of Maret, secretary of state, who already knew me, and had shown

his good-will for me. "Get ready at once," said he; "a courier will set

out this evening or to-morrow morning." I returned in all haste to

Malmaison, and announced to Madame Bonaparte my immediate departure. She

immediately had a good post-chaise made ready for me, and Thibaut (for

that was the name of the courier I was to accompany) was directed to

obtain horses for me along the route. Maret gave me eight hundred francs

for the expenses of my trip, which sum, entirely unexpected by me, filled

me with wonder, for I had never been so rich. At four o'clock in the

morning, having heard from Thibaut that everything was ready, I went to

his house, where the post-chaise awaited me, and we set out.

I traveled very comfortably, sometimes in the postchaise, sometimes on

horseback; I taking Thibaut's place, and he mine. I expected to overtake

the First Consul at Martigny; but his traveling had been so rapid, that I

caught up with him only at the convent of Mt. St. Bernard. Upon our

route we constantly passed regiments on the march, composed of officers

and soldiers who were hastening to rejoin their different corps. Their

enthusiasm was irrepressible,--those who had made the campaign of Italy

rejoiced at returning to so fine a country; those who had not yet done so

were burning with impatience to see the battlefields immortalized by

French valor, and by the genius of the hero who still marched at their

head. All went as if to a festival, and singing songs they climbed the

mountains of Valais. It was eight o'clock in the morning when I arrived

at headquarters. Pfister announced me; and I found the general-in-chief

in the great hall, in the basement of the Hospice. He was taking

breakfast, standing, with his staff. As soon as he saw me, he said,

"Here you are, you queer fellow! why didn't you come with me?" I excused

myself by saying that to my great regret I had received a counter order,

or, at least, they had left me behind at the moment of departure. "Lose

no time, my friend; eat quickly; we are about to start." From this

moment I was attached to the personal service of the First Consul, in the

quality of ordinary valet; that is to say, in my turn. This duty gave me

little to do; Hambard, the head valet of the First Consul, being in the

habit of dressing him from head to foot.

Immediately after breakfast we began to descend the mountain, many

sliding down on the snow, very much as they coast at the garden Beaujon,

from top to bottom of the Montagnes Russes, and I followed their example.

This they called "sledding." The general-in-chief also descended in this

manner an almost perpendicular glacier. His guide was a young

countryman, active and courageous, to whom the First Consul promised a

sufficiency for the rest of his days. Some young soldiers who had

wandered off into the snow were found, almost dead with cold, by the

dogs sent out by the monks, and carried to the Hospice, where they

received every possible attention, and their lives were saved. The First

Consul gave substantial proof of his gratitude to the good fathers for a

charity so useful and generous. Before leaving the Hospice, where he had

found tables loaded with food already prepared awaiting the soldiers as

soon as they reached the summit of the mountain, he gave to the good

monks a considerable sum of money, in reward for the hospitality he and

his companions in arms had received, and an order on the treasury for an

annuity in support of the convent.

The same day we climbed Mount Albaredo; but as this passage was

impracticable for cavalry and artillery, he ordered them to pass outside

the town of Bard, under the batteries of the fort. The First Consul had

ordered that they should pass it at night, and on a gallop; and he had

straw tied around the wheels of the caissons and on the feet of the

horses, but even these precautions were not altogether sufficient to

prevent the Austrians hearing our troops. The cannon of the fort rained

grape-shot incessantly; but fortunately the houses of the town sheltered

our soldiers from the enemy's guns, and more than half the army passed

without much loss. I was with the household of the First Consul, which

under the care of General Gardanne flanked the fort.

The 23d of May we forded a torrent which flowed between the town and the

fort, with the First Consul at our head, and then, followed by General

Berthier and some other officers, took the path over the Albaredo, which

overlooked the fort and the town of Bard. Directing his field-glass

towards the hostile batteries, from the fire of which he was protected

only by a few bushes, he criticised the dispositions which had been made

by the officer in charge of the siege of the fort, and ordered changes,

which he said would cause the place to fall into our hands in a short

time. Freed now from the anxiety which this fort had caused him, and

which he said had prevented his sleeping the two days he had passed in

the convent of Maurice, he stretched himself at the foot of a fir-tree

and took a refreshing nap, while the army was making good its passage.

Rising from this brief interval of repose, he descended the mountain and

continued his march to Ivree, where we passed the night.

The brave General Lannes, who commanded the advance guard, acted somewhat

in the capacity of quartermaster, taking possession of all the places

which barred the road. Only a few hours before we entered he had forced

the passage of Ivree.

Such was this miraculous passage of St. Bernard. Horses, cannon,

caissons, and an immense quantity of army stores of all kinds,

everything, in fact, was drawn or carried over glaciers which appeared

inaccessible, and by paths which seemed impracticable even for a single

man. The Austrian cannon were not more successful than the snow in

stopping the French army. So true is it that the genius and perseverance

of the First Consul were communicated, so to speak, to the humblest of

his soldiers, and inspired them with a courage and a strength, the

results of which will appear fabulous to posterity.

On the 2d of June, which was the day after the passage of the Ticino, and

the day of our entrance into Milan, the First Consul learned that the

fort of Bard had been taken the evening before, showing that his

dispositions had led to a quick result, and the road of communication by

the St. Bernard was now free from all obstructions. The First Consul

entered Milan without having met much resistance, the whole population

turned out on his entrance, and he was received with a thousand

acclamations. The confidence of the Milanese redoubled when they learned

that he had promised the members of the assembled clergy to maintain the

catholic worship and clergy as already established, and had compelled

them to take the oath of fidelity to the cisalpine republic.

The First Consul remained several days in this capital; and I had time to

form a more intimate acquaintance with my colleagues, who were, as I have

said, Hambard, Roustan, and Hebert. We relieved each other every

twenty-four hours, at noon precisely. As has always been my rule when

thrown into association with strangers, I observed, as closely as

circumstances permitted, the character and temper of my comrades, so

that I could regulate my conduct in regard to them, and know in advance

what I might have to fear or hope from association with them.

Hambard had an unbounded devotion for the First Consul, whom he had

followed to Egypt, but unfortunately his temper was gloomy and

misanthropic, which made him extremely sullen and disagreeable; and the

favor which Roustan enjoyed perhaps contributed to increase this gloomy

disposition. In a kind of mania he imagined himself to be the object of

a special espionage; and when his hours of service were over, he would

shut himself up in his room, and pass in mournful solitude the whole time

he was not on duty. The First Consul, when in good humor, would joke

with him upon this savage disposition, calling him Mademoiselle Hambard.

"Ah, well, what were you doing there in your room all by yourself?

Doubtless you were reading some poor romances, or some old books about

princesses carried off and kept under guard by a barbarous giant." To

which Hambard would sullenly reply, "General, you no doubt know better

than I what I was doing," referring in this way to the spies by which he

believed himself to be always surrounded. Notwithstanding this

unfortunate disposition, the First Consul felt very kindly to him. When

the Emperor went to camp at Boulogne, Hambard refused to accompany him;

and the Emperor gave him, as a place of retreat, the charge of the palace

of Meudon. There he showed unmistakable symptoms of insanity, and his

end was lamentable. During the Hundred Days, after a conversation with

the Emperor, he threw himself against a carving-knife with such violence

that the blade came out two inches behind his back. As it was believed

at this time that I had incurred the anger of the Emperor, the rumor went

abroad that it was I who had committed suicide, and this tragic death was

announced in several papers as mine.

Hebert, ordinary valet, was a very agreeable young fellow, but very

timid, and was, like all the rest of the household, devotedly attached to

the First Consul. It happened one day in Egypt that the latter, who had

never been able to shave himself (it was I who taught him how to shave

himself, as I shall relate elsewhere at length), called Hebert to shave

him, in the absence of Hambard, who ordinarily discharged that duty. As

it had sometimes happened that Hebert, on account of his great timidity,

had cut his master's chin, on that day the latter, who held a pair of

scissors in his hand, when Hebert approached him, holding his razor,

said, "Take care, you scamp; if you cut me, I will stick my scissors into

your stomach." This threat, made with an air of pretended seriousness,

but which was in fact only a jest, such as I have seen the Emperor

indulge in a hundred times, produced such an impression on Hebert, that

it was impossible for him to finish his work. He was seized with

a convulsive trembling, the razor fell from his hand, and the

general-in-chief in vain bent his neck, and said to him many times,

laughing "Come, finish, you scamp." Not only was Hebert unable to

complete his task that day, but from that time he had to renounce the

duty of barber. The Emperor did not like this excessive timidity in the

servants of his household; but this did not prevent him, when he

restored the castle of Rambouillet, from giving to Hebert the place of

concierge which he requested.

Roustan, so well known under the name of Mameluke, belonged to a good

family of Georgia; carried off at the age of six or seven, and taken to

Cairo, he was there brought up among the young slaves who attended upon

the mamelukes, until he should be of sufficient age to enter this warlike

militia. The Sheik of Cairo, in making a present to General Bonaparte of

a magnificent Arab horse, had given him at the same time Roustan and

Ibrahim, another mameluke, who was afterwards attached to the service of

Madame Bonaparte, under the name of Ali. It is well known that Roustan

became an indispensable accompaniment on all occasions when the Emperor

appeared in public. He was with him in all his expeditions, in all

processions, and, which was especially to his honor, in all his battles.

In the brilliant staff which followed the Emperor he shone more than all

others by the richness of his Oriental costume; and his appearance made a

decided impression, especially upon the common people and in the

provinces. He was believed to have great influence with the Emperor;

because, as credulous people said, Roustan had saved his master's life by

throwing himself between him and the saber of an enemy who was about to

strike him. I think that this belief was unfounded, and that the

especial favor he enjoyed was due to the habitual kindness of his Majesty

towards every one in his service. Besides, this favor affected in no

wise his domestic relations; for when Roustan, who had married a young

and pretty French girl, a certain Mademoiselle Douville, whose father was

valet to the Empress Josephine, was reproached by certain journals in

1814 and 1815 with not having followed to the end of his fortunes the man

for whom he had always expressed such intense devotion, Roustan replied

that the family ties which he had formed prevented his leaving France,

and that he could not destroy the happiness of his own household.

Ibrahim took the name of Ali when he passed into the service of Madame

Bonaparte. He was of more than Arabic ugliness, and had a wicked look.

I recall in this connection a little incident which took place at

Malmaison, which will give an idea of his character. One day, while

playing on the lawn of the chateau, I unintentionally threw him down

while running; and furious at his fall, he rose up, drew his poniard,

which he always wore, and dashed after me to strike me. I laughed at

first, like every one else, at the accident, and amused myself by making

him run; but warned by the cries of my comrades, and looking back to see

how close he was, I perceived at the same time his dagger and his rage.

I stopped at once, and planted my foot, with my eye fixed upon his

poniard, and was fortunate enough to avoid his blow, which, however,

grazed my breast. Furious in my turn, as may be imagined, I seized him

by his flowing pantaloons, and pitched him ten feet into the stream of

Malmaison, which was barely two feet deep. The plunge brought him at

once to his senses; and besides, his poniard had gone to the bottom,

which made him much less dangerous. But in his disappointment he yelled

so loudly that Madame Bonaparte heard him; and as she had quite a fancy

for her mameluke, I was sharply scolded. However, this poor Ali was of

such an unsocial temperament that he got into difficulties with almost

every one in the household, and at last was sent away to Fontainebleau,

to take the place of manservant there.

I now return to our campaign. On the 13th of June the First Consul spent

the night at Torre-di-Galifolo, where he established his headquarters.

From the day of our entry into Milan the advance of the army had not

slackened; General Murat had passed the Po, and taken possession of

Piacenza; and General Lannes, still pushing forward with his brave

advance guard, had fought a bloody battle at Montebello, a name which he

afterwards rendered illustrious by bearing it. The recent arrival of

General Desaix, who had just returned from Egypt, completed the joy of

the general-in-chief, and also added much to the confidence of the

soldiers, by whom the good and modest Desaix was adored. The First

Consul received him with the frankest and most cordial friendship, and

they remained together three consecutive hours in private conversation.

At the end of this conference, an order of the day announced to the army

that General Desaix would take command of the division Boudet. I heard

some persons in the suite of General Desaix say that his patience and

evenness of temper were rudely tried during his voyage, by contrary

winds, forced delays, the ennui of quarantine, and above all by the bad

conduct of the English, who had kept him for some time a prisoner in

their fleet, in sight of the shores of France, although he bore a

passport, signed by the English authorities in Egypt, in consequence of

the capitulation which had been mutually agreed upon. Consequently his

resentment against them was very ardent; and he regretted much, he said,

that the enemy he was about to fight was not the English.

In spite of the simplicity of his tastes and habits, no one was more

ambitious of glory than this brave general. All his rage against the

English was caused by the fear that he might not arrive in time to gather

new laurels. He did indeed arrive in time, but only to find a glorious

death, alas, so premature!

It was on the fourteenth that the celebrated battle of Marengo took

place, which began early in the morning, and lasted throughout the day.

I remained at headquarters with all the household of the First Consul,

where we were almost within range of the cannon on the battlefield.

Contradictory news constantly came, one report declaring the battle

completely lost, the next giving us the victory. At one time the

increase in the number of our wounded, and the redoubled firing of the

Austrian cannon, made us believe that all was lost; and then suddenly

came the news that this apparent falling back was only a bold maneuver of

the First Consul, and that a charge of General Desaix had gained the

battle. But the victory was bought at a price dear to France and to the

heart of the First Consul. Desaix, struck by a bullet, fell dead on the

field; and the grief of his soldiers serving only to exasperate their

courage, they routed, by a bayonet charge, the enemy, who were already

shaken by the brilliant cavalry charge of General Kellermann. The First

Consul slept upon the field of battle, and notwithstanding the decisive

victory that he had gained, was very sad, and said that evening, in the

presence of Hambard and myself, many things which showed the profound

grief he experienced in the death of General Desaix. He said, "France

has lost one of her bravest defenders, and I one of my best friends; no

one knew how much courage there was in the heart of Desaix, nor how much

genius in his head." He thus solaced his grief by making to each and all

a eulogy on the hero who had died on the field of honor.

"My brave Desaix," he further said, "always wished to die thus;" and then

added, almost with tears in his eyes, "but ought death to have been so

prompt to grant his wish?"

There was not a soldier in our victorious army who did not share so just

a sorrow. Rapp and Savary, the aides-de-camp of Desaix, remained plunged

in the most despairing grief beside the body of their chief, whom they

called their father, rather to express his unfailing kindness to them

than the dignity of his character. Out of respect to the memory of his

friend, the general-in-chief, although his staff was full, added these

two young officers in the quality of aides-de-camp.

Commandant Rapp (for such only was his rank at that time) was then, as he

has ever been, good, full of courage, and universally beloved. His

frankness, which sometimes bordered on brusqueness, pleased the Emperor;

and I have many times heard him speak in praise of his aide-de-camp, whom

he always styled, "My brave Rapp." Rapp was not lucky in battle, for he

rarely escaped without a wound. While thus anticipating events, I will

mention that in Russia, on the eve of the battle of La Moskwa, the

Emperor said, in my presence, to General Rapp, who had just arrived from

Dantzic, "See here, my brave fellow, we will beat them to-morrow, but

take great care of yourself. You are not a favorite of fortune."--"That

is," said the general, "the premium to be paid on the business, but I

shall none the less on that account do my best."

Savary manifested for the First Consul the same fervid zeal and unbounded

devotion which had attached him to General Desaix; and if he lacked any

of the qualities of General Rapp, it was certainly not bravery. Of all

the men who surrounded the Emperor, no one was more absolutely devoted to

his slightest wishes. In the course of these memoirs, I shall doubtless

have occasion to recall instances of this unparalleled enthusiasm, for

which the Duke de Rovigo I was magnificently rewarded; but it is just to

say that he did not bite the hand which rewarded him, and that he gave to

the end, and even after the end, of his old master (for thus he loved to

style the Emperor) an example of gratitude which has been imitated by

few.

A government decree, in the month of June following, determined that the

body of Desaix should be carried to the Hospice of St. Bernard, and that

a tomb should be erected on that spot, in the country where he had

covered himself with immortal glory, as a testimonial to the grief of

France, and especially that of the First Consul.

CHAPTER V.

The victory of Marengo had rendered the conquest of Italy certain.

Therefore the First Consul, thinking his presence more necessary at Paris

than at the head of his army, gave the command in chief to General

Massena, and made preparations to repass the mountains. On our return to

Milan, the First Consul was received with even more enthusiasm than on

his first visit.

The establishment of a republic was in accordance with the wishes of a

large number of the Milanese; and they called the First Consul their

Savior, since he had delivered them from the yoke of the Austrians.

There was, however, a party who detested equally these changes, the

French army which was the instrument of them, and the young chief who was

the author. In this party figured a celebrated artist, the singer

Marchesi.

During our former visit, the First Consul had sent for him; and the

musician had waited to be entreated, acting as if he were much

inconvenienced, and at last presented himself with all the importance of

a man whose dignity had been offended. The very simple costume of the

First Consul, his short stature, thin visage, and poor figure were not

calculated to make much of an impression on the hero of the theater; and

after the general-in-chief had welcomed him cordially, and very politely

asked him to sing an air, he replied by this poor pun, uttered in a tone

the impertinence of which was aggravated by his Italian accent: "Signor

General, if it is a good air which you desire, you will find an excellent

one in making a little tour of the garden." The Signor Marchesi was for

this fine speech immediately put out of the door, and the same evening an

order was sent committing the singer to prison. On our return the First

Consul, whose resentment against Marchesi the cannon of Marengo had

doubtless assuaged, and who thought besides that the penance of the

musician for a poor joke had been sufficiently long, sent for him again,

and asked him once more to sing; Marchesi this time was modest and

polite, and sang in a charming manner. After the concert the First

Consul approached him, pressed his hand warmly, and complimented him in

the most affectionate manner; and from that moment peace was concluded

between the two powers, and Marchesi sang only praises of the First

Consul.

At this same concert the First Consul was struck with the beauty of a

famous singer, Madame Grassini. He found her by no means cruel, and at

the end of a few hours the conqueror of Italy counted one conquest more.

The following day she breakfasted with the First Consul and General

Berthier in the chamber of the First Consul. General Berthier was

ordered to provide for the journey of Madame Grassini, who was carried to

Paris, and attached to the concert-room of the court.

The First Consul left Milan on the 24th; and we returned to France by the

route of Mont Cenis, traveling as rapidly as possible. Everywhere the

Consul was received with an enthusiasm difficult to describe. Arches of

triumph had been erected at the entrance of each town, and in each canton

a deputation of leading citizens came to make addresses to and compliment

him. Long ranks of young girls, dressed in white, crowned with flowers,

bearing flowers in their hands, and throwing flowers into the carriage of

the First Consul, made themselves his only escort, surrounded him,

followed him, and preceded him, until he had passed, or as soon as he set

foot on the ground wherever he stopped.

The journey was thus, throughout the whole route, a perpetual fete; and

at Lyons it amounted to an ovation, in which the whole town turned out to

meet him. He entered, surrounded by an immense crowd, amid the most

noisy demonstrations, and alighted at the hotel of the Celestins. In the

Reign of Terror the Jacobins had spent their fury on the town of Lyons,

the destruction of which they had sworn; and the handsome buildings which

ornamented the Place Belcour had been leveled to the ground, the hideous

cripple Couthon, at the head of the vilest mob of the clubs, striking

the first blow with the hammer. The First Consul detested the Jacobins,

who, on their side, hated and feared him; and his constant care was to

destroy their work, or, in other words, to restore the ruins with which

they had covered France. He thought then, and justly too, that he could

not better respond to the affection of the people of Lyons, than by

promoting with all his power the rebuilding of the houses of the Place

Belcour; and before his departure he himself laid the first stone. The

town of Dijon gave the First Consul a reception equally as brilliant.

Between Villeneuve-le-Roi and Sens, at the descent to the bridge of

Montereau, while the eight horses, lashed to a gallop, were bearing the

carriage rapidly along (the First Consul already traveled like a king),

the tap of one of the front wheels came off. The inhabitants who lined

the route, witnessing this accident, and foreseeing what would be the

result, used every effort to stop the postilions, but did not succeed,

and the carriage was violently upset. The First Consul received no

injury; General Berthier had his face slightly scratched by the windows,

which were broken; and the two footmen, who were on the steps, were

thrown, violently to a distance, and badly wounded. The First Consul got

out, or rather was pulled out, through one of the doors. This occurrence

made no delay in his journey; he took his seat in another carriage

immediately, and reached Paris with no other accident. The night of the

2d of July, he alighted at the Tuileries; and the next day, as soon as

the news of his return had been circulated in Paris, the entire

population filled the courts and the garden. They pressed around the

windows of the pavilion of Flora, in the hope of catching a glimpse of

the savior of France, the liberator of Italy.