A little while after our return to Saint-Cloud, the First Consul, while

riding in the park with his wife and Cambaceres, took a fancy to drive

the four horses attached to the carriage which had been given him by the

inhabitants of Antwerp. He took his place on the driver's seat, and took

the reins from the hands of Caesar, his coachman, who got up behind the

carriage. At that instant they were in the horse-shoe alley, which leads

to the road of the Pavilion Breteuil, and of Ville d'Avray. It is stated

in the Memorial of St. Helena, that the aide-de-camp, having awkwardly

frightened the horses, made them run away; but Caesar, who related to me

in detail this sad disaster a few moments after the accident had taken

place, said not a word to me about the aide-de-camp; and, in truth, there

was needed, to upset the coach, nothing more than the awkwardness of a

coachman with so little experience as the First Consul. Besides, the

horses were young and spirited, and Caesar himself needed all his skill

to guide them. Not feeling his hand on the reins, they set out at a

gallop, while Caesar, seeing the new direction they were taking to the

right, cried out, "To the left," in a stentorian voice. Consul

Cambaceres, even paler than usual, gave himself little concern as to

reassuring Madame Bonaparte, who was much alarmed, but screamed with all

his might, "Stop, stop! you will break all our necks!" That might well

happen, for the First Consul heard nothing, and, besides, could not

control the horses; and when he reached, or rather was carried with the

speed of lightning to, the very gate, he was not able to keep in the

road, but ran against a post, where the carriage fell over heavily, and

fortunately the horses stopped. The First Consul was thrown about ten

steps, fell on his stomach, and fainted away, and did not revive until

some one attempted to lift him up. Madame Bonaparte and the second

consul had only slight contusions; but good Josephine had suffered

horrible anxiety about her husband. However, although he was badly

bruised, he would not be bled, and satisfied himself with a few rubbings

with eau de Cologne, his favorite remedy. That evening, on retiring, he

spoke gayly of his misadventure, and of the great fright that his

colleague had shown, and ended by saying, "We must render unto Caesar

that which is Caesar's; let him keep his whip, and let us each mind his

own business."

He admitted, however, notwithstanding all his jokes, that he had never

thought himself so near death, and that he felt as if he had been dead

for a few seconds. I do not remember whether it was on this or another

occasion that I heard the Emperor say, that "death was only asleep

without dreams."

In the month of October of this year, the First Consul received in public

audience Haled-Effendi, the ambassador of the Ottoman Porte.

The arrival of the Turkish ambassador created a sensation at the

Tuileries, because he brought a large number of cashmere shawls to the

First Consul, which every one was sure would be distributed, and each

woman flattered herself that she would be favorably noticed. I think

that, without his foreign costume, and without his cashmere shawls, he

would have produced little effect on persons accustomed to seeing

sovereign princes pay court to the chief of the government at his

residence and at their own. His costume even was not more remarkable

than that of Roustan, to which we were accustomed; and as to his bows,

they were hardly lower than those of the ordinary courtiers of the First

Consul. At Paris, it is said, the enthusiasm lasted longer--"It is so

odd to be a Turk!" A few ladies had the honor of seeing the bearded

ambassador eat. He was polite and even gallant with them, and made them

a few presents, which were highly prized; his manners were not too

Mohammedan, and he was not much shocked at seeing our pretty Parisians

without veils over their faces. One day, which he had spent almost

entirely at Saint-Cloud, I saw him go through his prayers. It was in the

court of honor, on a broad parapet bordered with a stone balustrade. The

ambassador had carpets spread on the side of the apartments, which were

afterwards those of the King of Rome; and there he made his genuflexions,

under the eyes of many people of the house, who, out of consideration,

kept themselves behind their casements. In the evening he was present at

the theater, and Zaire or Mahomet, I think, was played; but of course he

understood none of it.

CHAPTER XII.

In the month of November of this year, the First Consul returned to

Boulogne to visit the fleet, and to review the troops who were already

assembled in the camps provided for the army with which he proposed to

descend on England. I have preserved a few notes and many recollections

of my different sojourns at Boulogne. Never did the Emperor make a

grander display of military power; nor has there ever been collected at

one point troops better disciplined or more ready to march at the least

signal of their chief; and it is not surprising that I should have

retained in my recollections of this period details which no one has yet,

I think, thought of publishing. Neither, if I am not mistaken, could any

one be in a better position than I to know them. However, the reader

will now judge for himself.

In the different reviews which the First Consul held, he seemed striving

to excite the enthusiasm of the soldiers, and to increase their

attachment for his person, by assiduously taking advantage of every

opportunity to excite their vanity.

One day, having especially noticed the excellent bearing of the

Thirty-sixth and Fifty-seventh regiments of the line, and Tenth of light

infantry, he made all the officers, from corporal to colonel, come

forward; and, placing himself in their midst, evinced his satisfaction by

recalling to them occasions when, in the past under the fire of cannon,

he had remarked the bearing of these three brave, regiments. He

complimented the sub-officers on the good drilling of the soldiers, and

the captains and chiefs of battalion on the harmony and precision of

their evolutions. In fine, each had his share of praise.

This flattering distinction did not excite the jealousy of the other

corps of the army, for each regiment had on that day its own share of

compliments, whether small or great; and when the review was over, they

went quietly back to their quarters. But the soldiers of the

Thirty-sixth, Fifty-seventh, and Tenth, much elated by having been so

specially favored, went in the afternoon to drink to their triumph in a

public house frequented by the grenadiers of the cavalry of the Guard.

They began to drink quietly, speaking of campaigns, of cities taken, of

the First Consul, and finally of that morning's review. It then

occurred to the young men of Boulogne, who were among the drinkers, to

sing couplets of very recent composition, in which were extolled to the

clouds the bravery and the exploits of the three regiments, without one

word of praise for the rest of the army, not even for the Guard; and it

was in the favorite resort of the grenadiers of the Guard that these

couplets were sung! These latter maintained at first a gloomy silence;

but soon finding it unendurable, they protested loudly against these

couplets, which they said were detestable. The quarrel became very

bitter; they shouted, heaped insults on each other, taking care not to

make too much noise; however, and appointed a meeting for the next day,

at four o'clock in the morning, in the suburbs of Marquise, a little

village about two leagues from Boulogne. It was very late in the

evening when these soldiers left the public house.

More than two hundred grenadiers of the Guard went separately to the

place of meeting, and found the ground occupied by an almost equal number

of their adversaries of the Thirty-sixth, Fifty-seventh, and Tenth.

Wasting no time in explanations, hardly a sound being heard, each soldier

drew his sword, and for more than an hour they fought in a cool,

deliberate manner which was frightful to behold. A man named Martin,

grenadier of the Guard, and of gigantic stature, killed with his own hand

seven or eight soldiers of the Tenth. They would probably have continued

till all were massacred if General Saint-Hilaire, informed too late of

this bloody quarrel, had not sent out in all haste a regiment of cavalry,

who put an end to the combat. The grenadiers had lost two men, and the

soldiers of the line thirteen, with a large number of wounded on both

sides.

The First Consul visited the camp next day, and had brought before him

those who had caused this terrible scene, and said to them in a severe

tone: "I know why you fought each other; many brave men have fallen in a

struggle unworthy of them and of you. You shall be punished. I have

given orders that the verses which have been the cause of so much trouble

shall be printed. I hope that, in learning your punishment, the ladies

of Boulogne will know that you have deserved the blame of your comrades

in arms."

However, the troops, and above all the officers, began to grow weary of

their sojourn at Boulogne, a town less likely, perhaps, than any other to

render such an inactive existence endurable. They did not murmur,

however, because never where the First Consul was did murmuring find a

place; but they fumed nevertheless under their breath at seeing

themselves held in camp or in fort, with England just in sight, only nine

or ten leagues distant. Pleasures were rare at Boulogne; the women,

generally pretty, but extremely timid, did not dare to hold receptions at

their own houses, for fear of displeasing their husbands, very jealous

men, as are all those of Picardy. There was, however, a handsome hall in

which balls and soirees could easily have been given; but, although very

anxious to do this, these ladies dared not make use of it. At last a

considerable number of Parisian beauties, touched by the sad fate of so

many brave and handsome officers, came to Boulogne to charm away the

ennui of so long a peace. The example of the Parisian women piqued those

of Abbeville, Dunkirk, Amiens; and soon Boulogne was filled with

strangers, male and female, who came to do the honors of the city. Among

all these ladies the one most conspicuous for style, intellect, and

beauty was a Dunkirk lady, named Madame F----, an excellent musician,

full of gayety, grace, and youth; it was impossible for Madame F----not

to turn many heads. Colonel Joseph, brother of the First Consul,

General Soult, who was afterwards Marshal, Generals Saint-Hilaire and

Andre Ossy, and a few other great personages, were at her feet; though

two alone, it is said, succeeded in gaining her affections, and of those

two, one was Colonel Joseph, who soon had the reputation of being the

preferred lover of Madame F----. The beautiful lady from Dunkirk often

gave soirees, at which Colonel Joseph never failed to be present. Among

all his rivals, and certainly they were very numerous, one alone bore him

ill-will; this was the general-in-chief, Soult. This rivalry did no

injury to the interests of Madame F----; but like a skillful tactician,

she adroitly provoked the jealousy of her two suitors, while accepting

from each of them compliments, bouquets, and more than that sometimes.

The First Consul, informed of the amours of his brother, concluded one

evening to go and make himself merry in the little salon of Madame F----,

who was very plainly domesticated in a room on the first floor in the

house of a joiner, in the Rue des Minimes. In order not to be

recognized, he was dressed as a citizen, and wore a wig and spectacles.

He took into his confidence General Bertrand, who was already in great

favor with him, and who did all in his power to render his disguise

complete.

Thus disguised, the First Consul and his companion presented themselves

at Madame F----'s, and asked for Monsieur the Superintendent Arcambal.

The most perfect incognito was impressed on Arcambal by the First Consul,

who would not for all the world have been recognized; and M. Arcambal

promising to keep the secret, the two visitors were announced under the

title of commissaries of war.

They were playing bouillotte; gold covered the tables, and the game and

punch absorbed the attention of the happy inmates to such a degree, that

none of them took note of the persons who had just entered. As for the

mistress of the lodging, she had never seen the First Consul except at a

distance, nor General Bertrand; consequently, there was nothing to be

feared from her. I myself think that Colonel Joseph recognized his

brother, but he gave no evidence of this.

The First Consul, avoiding as best he could all glances, spied those of

his brother and of Madame F----. Thinking signals were passing between

them, he was preparing to quit the salon of the pretty Dunkirkess, when

she, very anxious that the number of her guests should not yet be

diminished, ran to the two false commissaries of war, and detained them

gracefully, saying that all were going to play forfeits, and they must

not go away without having given pledges. The First Consul having first

consulted General Bertrand by a glance, found it agreeable to remain and

play those innocent games.

Indeed, at the end of a few moments, at the request of Madame F----, the

players deserted the bouillotte, and placed themselves in a circle around

her. They began by dancing the Boulangere; then the young innocents kept

the ball in motion. The turn of the First Consul came to give a forfeit.

He was at first very much embarrassed, having with him only a piece of

paper, on which he had written the names of a few colonels; he gave,

however, this paper to Madame F----, begging her not to open it.

The wish of the First Consul was respected, and the paper remained folded

on the lap of the beautiful woman until the time came to redeem the

forfeits. Then the queer penalty was imposed on the great captain of

making him doorkeeper, while Madame F----, with Colonel Joseph, made the

'voyage a Cythere' in a neighboring room. The First Consul acquitted

himself with a good grace of the role given him; and after the forfeits

had been redeemed, made a sign to General Bertrand to follow him, and

they went out. The joiner who lived on the ground floor soon came up to

bring a little note to Madame F----.

This was the note:

I thank you, Madame, for the kind welcome you have given me. If you

will come some day to my barracks, I will act as doorkeeper, if it

seems good to you; but on that occasion I will resign to no, other

the pleasure of accompanying you in the 'voyage a Cythre'.

(Signed) BONAPARTE

The pretty woman did not read the note aloud; neither did she allow the

givers of forfeits to remain in ignorance that she had received a visit

from the First Consul. At the end of an hour the company dispersed, and

Madame F---- remained alone, reflecting on the visit and the note of the

great man.

It was during this same visit that there occurred a terrible combat in

the roadstead of Boulogne to secure the entrance into the port of a

flotilla composed of twenty or thirty vessels, which came from Ostend,

from Dunkirk, and from Nieuport, loaded with arms for the national fleet.

A magnificent frigate, carrying thirty-six pounders, a cutter, and a

brig, detached themselves from the English fleet, in order to intercept

the route of the Dutch flotilla; but they were received in a manner which

took away all desire to return.

The port of Boulogne was defended by five forts; the Fort de la Creche,

the Fort en Bois, Fort Musoir, Castle Croi, and the Castle d'Ordre, all

fortified with large numbers of cannon and howitzers. The line of

vessels which barred the entrance was composed of two hundred and fifty

gunboats and other vessels; the division of imperial gunboats formed a

part of this.

Each sloop bore three pieces of cannon, twenty-four pounders,--two pieces

for pursuit, and one for retreat; and five hundred mouths of fire were

thus opened on the enemy, independently of all the batteries of the

forts, every cannon being fired more than three times a minute.

The combat began at one o'clock in the afternoon. The weather was

beautiful. At the first report of the cannon the First Consul left the

headquarters at the Pont de Brique, and came at a gallop, followed by his

staff, to give orders to Admiral Bruix; but soon wishing to examine for

himself the operations of the defense, and to share in directing them, he

threw himself, followed by the admiral and a few officers, into a launch

which was rowed by sailors of the Guard. Thus the First Consul was borne

into the midst of the vessels which formed the line of defense, through a

thousand dangers, amid a tempest of shells, bombs, and cannon-balls.

With the intention of landing at Wimereux, after having passed along the

line, he ordered them to steer for the castle of Croi, saying that he

must double it. Admiral Bruix, alarmed at the danger he was about to

incur, in vain represented to the First Consul the imprudence of doing

this. "What shall we gain," said he, "by doubling this fort? Nothing,

except to expose ourselves to the cannon-balls. General, by flanking it

we will arrive as soon." The First Consul was not of the admiral's

opinion, and insisted on doubling the fort. The admiral, at the risk of

being reprimanded, gave contrary orders to the sailors; and the First

Consul saw himself obliged to pass behind the fort, though much irritated

and reproaching the admiral.

This soon ceased, however; for, hardly had the launch passed, when a

transport, which had doubled the castle of Croi, was crashed into and

sunk by three or four shells.

The First Consul became silent, on seeing how correct the admiral's

judgment had been; and the rest of the journey, as far as the little port

of Wimereux, was made without hindrance from him. Arriving there, he

climbed upon the cliff to encourage the cannoneers, spoke to all of them,

patted them on the shoulder, and urged them to aim well. "Courage, my

friends," said he, "remember you are not fighting fellows who will hold

out a long time. Drive them back with the honors of war." And noticing

the fine resistance and majestic maneuvers of a frigate, he asked, "Can

you believe, my children, that captain is English? I do not think so."

The artillerymen, animated by the words of the First Consul, redoubled

their zeal and the rapidity of their fire. One of them said, "Look at

the frigate, General; her bowsprit is going to fall." He spoke truly,

the bowsprit was cut in two by his ball. "Give twenty francs to that

brave man," said the First Consul to the officers who were with him.

Near the batteries of Wimereux there was a furnace to heat the

cannon-balls; and the First Consul noticed them operating the furnaces,

and gave instructions. "That is not red enough, boys; they must be sent

redder than that, come, come." One of them had known him, when a

lieutenant of artillery, and said to his comrades, "He understands these

little matters perfectly, as well as greater ones, you see."

That day two soldiers without arms were on the cliff noticing the

maneuvers. They began a quarrel in this singular manner. "Look," said

one, "do you see the Little Corporal down there?" (they were both

Picards). "No; I don't see him."--"Do you not see him in his

launch?"--"Oh, yes, now I do; but surely he does not remember, that if

anything should strike him, it would make the whole army weep--why does

he expose himself like that?"

"Indeed, it is his place!"--"No, it's not "--"It is"--"It isn't.

Look here, what would you do to-morrow if the Little Corporal was

killed?"--"But I tell you it is his place!" And having no other

argument on either side, they commenced to fight with their fists.

They were separated with much difficulty.

The battle had commenced at one o'clock in the afternoon, and about ten

o'clock in the evening the Dutch flotilla entered the port under the most

terrible fire that I have ever witnessed. In the darkness the bombs,

which crossed each other in every direction, formed above the port and

the town a vault of fire, while the constant discharge of all this

artillery was repeated by echoes from the cliffs, making a frightful din;

and, a most singular fact, no one in the city was alarmed. The people of

Boulogne had become accustomed to danger, and expected something terrible

each day. They had constantly going on, under their eyes, preparations

for attack or defense, and had become soldiers by dint of seeing this so

constantly. On that day the noise of cannon was heard at dinner-time;

and still every one dined, the hour for the repast being neither advanced

nor delayed. Men went about their business, women occupied themselves

with household affairs, young girls played the piano, all saw with

indifference the cannonballs pass over their heads; and the curious, whom

a desire to witness the combat had attracted to the cliffs, showed hardly

any more emotion than is ordinarily the case on seeing a military piece

played at Franconi's.

I still ask myself how three vessels could have endured for nine hours so

violent a shock; for when at length the flotilla entered the fort, the

English cutter had foundered, the brig had been burnt by the red-hot

cannon-balls, and there was left only the frigate, with her masts

shivered and her sails torn, but she still remained there immovable as a

rock, and so near to our line of defense that the sailors on either side

could be seen and counted. Behind her, at a modest distance, were more

than a hundred English ships.

At length, after ten o'clock, a signal from the English admiral caused

the frigate to withdraw, and the firing ceased. Our line of ships was

not greatly damaged in this long and terrible combat, because the

broadsides from the frigate simply cut into our rigging, and did not

enter the body of our vessels. The brig and the cutter, however, did

more harm.

CHAPTER XIII.

The First Consul left Boulogne to return to Paris, in order to be present

at the marriage of one of his sisters. Prince Camille Borghese,

descendant of the noblest family of Rome, had already arrived at Paris

to--marry Madame Pauline Bonaparte, widow of General Leclerc, who had

died of yellow fever in San Domingo. I recollect having seen this

unfortunate general at the residence of the First Consul some time before

his departure on the ill-starred expedition which cost him his life, and

France the loss of many brave soldiers and much treasure. General

Leclerc, whose name is now almost forgotten, or held in light esteem, was

a kind and good man. He was passionately in love with his wife, whose

giddiness, to put it mildly, afflicted him sorely, and threw him into a

deep and habitual melancholy painful to witness. Princess Pauline (who

was then far from being a princess) had married him willingly, and of her

own choice; but this did not prevent her tormenting her husband by her

innumerable caprices, and repeating to him a hundred times a day that he

was indeed a fortunate man to marry the sister of the First Consul. I am

sure that with his simple tastes and quiet disposition General Leclerc

would have preferred less distinction and more peace. The First Consul

required his sister to accompany her husband to San Domingo. She was

forced to obey, and to leave Paris, where she swayed the scepter of

fashion, and eclipsed all other women by her elegance and coquetry, as

well as by her incomparable beauty, to brave a dangerous climate, and the

ferocious companions of Christophe and Dessalines. At the end of the

year 1801 the admiral's ship, The Ocean, sailed from Brest, carrying to

the Cape (San Domingo) General Leclerc, his wife, and their son. After

her arrival at the Cape, the conduct of Madame Leclerc was beyond praise.

On more than one occasion, but especially that which I shall now attempt

to describe, she displayed a courage worthy of her name and the position

of her husband. I obtained these details from an eye-witness whom I had

known at Paris in the service of Princess Pauline.

The day of the great insurrection of the blacks in September, 1802, the

bands of Christophe and Dessalines, composed of more than twelve thousand

negroes, exasperated by their hatred against the whites, and the

certainty that if they yielded no quarter would be given, made an assault

on the town of the Cape, which was defended by only one thousand

soldiers; for only this small number remained of the large army which had

sailed from Brest a year before, in brilliant spirits and full of hope.

This handful of brave men, the most of them weakened by fever, led by the

general-in-chief of the expedition, who was even then suffering from the

malady which caused his death, repulsed by unheard of efforts and heroic

valor the repeated attacks of the blacks.

During this combat, in which the determination, if not the number and

strength, was equal on both sides, Madame Leclerc, with her son, was

under the guard of a devoted friend who had subject to his orders only a

weak company of artillery, which still occupied the house where her

husband had fixed his residence, at the foot of the low hills which

bordered the coast. The general-in-chief, fearing lest this residence

might be surprised by a party of the enemy, and being unable to foresee

the issue of the struggle which he was maintaining on the heights of the

Cape, and against which the blacks made their most furious assaults, sent

an order to convey his wife and son on board the fleet. Pauline would

not consent to this. Always faithful to the pride with which her name

inspired her (but this time there was in her pride as much greatness as

nobility), she spoke to the ladies of the city who had taken refuge with

her, and begged them to go away, giving them a frightful picture of the

horrible treatment to which they would be exposed should the negroes

defeat the troops. "You can leave. You are not the sisters of

Bonaparte."

However, as the danger became more pressing every moment, General Leclerc

sent an aide-de-camp to his residence, and enjoined on him, in case

Pauline still persisted in her refusal, to use force, and convey her on

board against her will. The officer was obliged to execute this order to

the letter. Consequently Madame Leclerc was forcibly placed in an

arm-chair which was borne by four soldiers, while a grenadier marched by

her side, carrying in his arms the general's son. During this scene of

flight and terror the child, already worthy of its mother, played with

the plume of the soldier who was carrying him. Followed by

her cortege of trembling, tearful women, whose only source of strength

during this perilous passage was in her courage, she was thus conveyed to

the seashore. Just as they were going to place her in the sloop,

however, another aide-de-camp of her husband brought news of the defeat

of the blacks. "You see now," said she, returning to her residence, "I

was right in not wishing to embark." She was not yet out of danger,

however; for a troop of negroes, forming part of the army which had just

been so miraculously repulsed, in trying to make good their retreat to

the dikes, met the small escort of Madame Leclerc. As they appeared

disposed to attack, it was necessary to scatter them by shots at short

range. Throughout this skirmish Pauline preserved a perfect equanimity.

All these circumstances, which reflected so much honor on Madame Leclerc,

were reported to the First Consul.

His self-love was flattered by it; and I believe that it was to Prince

Borghese that he said one day at his levee, "Pauline is predestined to

marry a Roman, for from head to foot she is every inch a Roman."

Unfortunately this courage, which a man might have envied, was not united

in the Princess Pauline with those virtues which are less brilliant and

more modest, and also more suitable for a woman, and which we naturally

expect to find in her, rather than boldness and contempt of danger.

I do not know if it is true, as has been written somewhere, that Madame

Leclerc, when she was obliged to set out for San Domingo, had a fancy for

an actor of the Theatre Francais. Nor am I able to say whether it is

true that Mademoiselle Duchesnois had the naivete to exclaim before a

hundred people in reference to this departure, "Lafon will never be

consoled; it will kill him!" but what I myself know of the frailty of

this princess leads me to believe that the anecdote is true.

All Paris knew the special favor with which she honored M. Jules de

Canouville, a young and brilliant colonel who was handsome and brave,

with a perfect figure, and an assurance which was the cause of his

innumerable successes with certain women, although he used little

discretion in respect to them. The liaison of Princess Pauline with this

amiable officer was the most lasting that she ever formed; and as,

unfortunately, neither of them was discreet, their mutual tenderness

acquired in a short while a scandalous publicity. I shall take occasion

later to relate in its proper place the incident which caused the

disgrace, banishment, and perhaps even the death, of Colonel de

Canouville. A death so premature, and above all so cruel, since it was

not an enemy's bullet which struck him, was deplored by the whole army.

[Monsieur Bousquet was called to Neuilly (residence of the

Princess Pauline) in order to examine the beautiful teeth of her

Imperial Highness. Presented to her, he prepared to begin work.

"Monsieur," said a charming young man in a wrapper, negligently

lying on a sofa, "take care, I pray, what you do. I feel a great

interest in the teeth of my Paulette, and I hold you responsible for

any accident."--"Be tranquil, my Prince; I can assure your Imperial

Highness that there is no danger." During all the time that

Bousquet was engaged in working on the pretty mouth, these

recommendations continued. At length, having finished what he had

to do, he passed into the waiting-room, where he found assembled the

ladies of the palace, the chamberlains, etc., who were awaiting to

enter the apartments of the Princess.

They hastened to ask Bousquet news of the princess, "Her Imperial

Highness is very well, and must be happy in the tender attachment

her august husband feels for her, which he has shown in my presence

in so touching a manner. His anxiety was extreme. It was only with

difficulty I could reassure him as to the result of the simplest

thing in the world; I shall tell everywhere what I have just

witnessed. It is pleasant to be able to cite such an example of

conjugal tenderness in so high a rank. I am deeply impressed with

it." They did not try to stop good M. Bousquet in these expressions

of his enthusiasm. The desire to laugh prevented a single word; and

he left convinced that nowhere existed a better household than that

of the Prince and Princess Borghese. The latter was in Italy, and

the handsome young man was M. de Canouville.

I borrow this curious anecdote from the "Memoirs of Josephine," the

author of which, who saw and described the Court of Navarre and

Malmaison with so much truth and good judgment, is said to be a

woman, and must be in truth a most intellectual one, and in a better

position than any other person to know the private affairs of her

Majesty, the Empress.--CONSTANT.

He was slain by a ball from a French cannon, which was discharged

after the close of an action in which he had shown the most

brilliant courage.--CONSTANT.]

Moreover, however great may have been the frailty of Princess Pauline in

regard to her lovers, and although most incredible instances of this can

be related without infringing on the truth, her admirable devotion to the

person of the Emperor in 1814 should cause her faults to be treated with

indulgence.

On innumerable occasions the effrontery of her conduct, and especially

her want of regard and respect for the Empress Marie Louise, irritated

the Emperor against the Princess Borghese, though he always ended by

pardoning her; notwithstanding which, at the time of the fall of her

august brother she was again in disgrace, and being informed that the

island of Elba had been selected as a prison for the Emperor, she

hastened to shut herself up there with him, abandoning Rome and Italy,

whose finest palaces were hers. Before the battle of Waterloo, his

Majesty at the critical moment found the heart of his sister Pauline

still faithful. Fearing lest he might be in need of money, she sent him

her handsomest diamonds, the value of which was enormous; and they were

found in the carriage of the Emperor when it was captured at Waterloo,

and exhibited to the curiosity of the inhabitants of London. But the

diamonds have been lost; at least, to their lawful owner.

CHAPTER XIV.

On the day of General Moreau's arrest the First Consul was in a state of

great excitement.

[Jean Victor Moreau, born at Morlaix in Brittany, 1763, son of a

prominent lawyer. At one time he rivaled Bonaparte in reputation.

He was general-in-chief of the army of the Rhine, 1796, and again in

1800, in which latter year he gained the battle of Hohenlinden.

Implicated in the conspiracy of Pichegru, he was exiled, and went to

the United States. He returned to Europe in 1813, and, joining the

allied armies against France, was killed by a cannon-shot in the

attack on Dresden in August of that year.]

The morning was passed in interviews with his emissaries, the agents of

police; and measures had been taken that the arrest should be made at the

specified hour, either at Gros-Bois, or at the general's house in the

street of the Faubourg Saint-Honore. The First Consul was anxiously

walking up and down his chamber, when he sent for me, and ordered me to

take position opposite General Moreau's house (the one in Paris), to see

whether the arrest had taken place, and if there was any tumult, and to

return promptly and make my report. I obeyed; but nothing extraordinary

took place, and I saw only some police spies walking along the street,

and watching the door of the house of the man whom they had marked for

their prey. Thinking that my presence would probably be noticed, I

retired; and, as I learned while returning to the chateau that General

Moreau had been arrested on the road from his estate of Gros-Bois, which

he sold a few months later to Marshal Berthier, before leaving for the

United States, I quickened my pace, and hastened to announce to the First

Consul the news of the arrest. He knew this already, made no response,

and still continued thoughtful, and in deep reflection, as in the

morning.

Since I have been led to speak of General Moreau, I will recall by what

fatal circumstances he was led to tarnish his glory. Madame Bonaparte

had given to him in marriage Mademoiselle Hulot, her friend, and, like

herself, a native of the Isle of France. This young lady, gentle,

amiable, and possessing those qualities which make a good wife and

mother, loved her husband passionately, and was proud of that glorious

name which surrounded her with respect and honor; but, unfortunately, she

had the greatest deference for her mother, whose ambition was great, and

who desired nothing short of seeing her daughter seated upon a throne.

The influence which she exercised over Madame Moreau soon extended to the

general himself, who, ruled by her counsels, became gloomy, thoughtful,

melancholy, and forever lost that tranquillity of mind which had

distinguished him. From that time the general's house was open to

intrigues and conspiracies; and it was the rendezvous of all the

discontented, of which there were many. The general assumed the task of

disapproving all the acts of the First Consul; he opposed the

reestablishment of public worship, and criticised as childish and

ridiculous mummery the institution of the Legion of Honor. These grave

imprudences, and indeed many others, came to the ears of the First

Consul, who refused at first to believe them; but how could he remain

deaf to reports which were repeated each day with more foundation, though

doubtless exaggerated by malice?

In proportion as the imprudent speeches of the general were depriving him

of the esteem of the First Consul, his mother-in-law, by a dangerous

obstinacy, was encouraging him in his opposition, persuaded, she said,

that the future would do justice to the present. She did not realize

that she spoke so truly; and the general rushed headlong into the abyss

which opened before him. How greatly his conduct was in opposition to

his character! He had a pronounced aversion to the English, and he

detested the Chouans, and everything pertaining to the old nobility; and

besides, a man like General Moreau, who had served his country so

gloriously, was not the one to bear arms against her. But he was

deceived, and he deceived himself, in thinking that he was fitted to play

a great political part; and he was destroyed by the flatteries of a party

which excited all possible hostility against the First Consul by taking

advantage of the jealousy of his former comrades in arms. I witnessed

more than one proof of affection shown by the First Consul to General

Moreau. In the course of a visit of the latter to the Tuileries, and

during an interview with the First Consul, General Carnot arrived from

Versailles with a pair of pistols of costly workmanship, which the

manufactory of Versailles had sent as a gift to the First Consul. He

took these handsome weapons from the hands of General Carnot, admired

them a moment, and immediately offered them to General Moreau, saying to

him, "Take them, truly they could not have come at a better time." All

this was done quicker than I can write it; the general was highly

flattered by this proof of friendship, and thanked the First Consul

warmly.

The name and trial of General Moreau recall to me the story of a brave

officer who was compromised in this unfortunate affair, and who after

many years of disgrace was pardoned only on account of the courage with

which he dared expose himself to the anger of the Emperor. The

authenticity of the details which I shall relate can be attested, if

necessary, by living persons, whom I shall have occasion to name in my

narrative, and whose testimony no reader would dream of impeaching.

The disgrace of General Moreau extended at first to all those who

surrounded him; and as the affection and devotion felt for him by all

the officers and soldiers who had served under him was well known, his

aides-de-camp were arrested, even those who were not then in Paris. One

of them, Colonel Delelee, had been many months on furlough at Besancon,

resting after his campaigns in the bosom of his family, and with a young

wife whom he had recently married. Besides, he was at that time

concerning himself very little with political matters, very much with his

pleasures, and not at all with conspiracies. Comrade and brother in arms

of Colonels Guilleminot, Hugo, Foy,--all three of whom became generals

afterwards,--he was spending his evenings gayly with them at the

garrison, or in the quiet pleasures of his family circle. Suddenly

Colonel Delelee was arrested, placed in a postchaise, and it was not

until he was rolling along in a gallop on the road to Paris, that he

learned from the officer of the gendarmes who accompanied him, that

General Moreau had conspired, and that in his quality as aide-de-camp he

was counted among the conspirators.

Arrived at Paris, the colonel was put in close confinement, in La Force

I believe. His wife, much alarmed, followed his footsteps; but it was

several days before she obtained permission to communicate with the

prisoner, and then could do so only by signs from the courtyard of the

prison while he showed himself, for a few moments, and put his hands

through the bars of the window. However, the rigor of these orders was

relaxed for the colonel's young child three or four years of age, and his

father obtained the favor of embracing him. He came each morning in his

mother's arms, and a turnkey carried him in to the prisoner, before which

inconvenient witness the poor little thing played his role with all the

skill of a consummate actor. He would pretend to be lame, and complain

of having sand in his shoes which hurt him and the colonel, turning his

back on the jailer, and taking the child in his lap to remove the cause

of the trouble, would find in his son's shoe a note from his wife,

informing him in a few words of the state of the trial, and what he had

to hope or fear for himself. At length, after many months of captivity,

sentence having been pronounced against the conspirators, Colonel

Delelee, against whom no charge had been made, was not absolved as he had

a right to expect, but was struck off the army list, arbitrarily put

under surveillance, and prohibited from coming within forty leagues of

Paris. He was also forbidden to return to Besancon, and it was more than

a year after leaving prison before he was permitted to do so.

Young and full of courage, the Colonel saw, from the depths of his

retirement, his friends and comrades make their way, and gain upon the

battlefield fame, rank, and glory, while he himself was condemned to

inaction and obscurity, and to pass his days in following on the map the

triumphant march of those armies in which he felt himself worthy to

resume his rank. Innumerable applications were addressed by him and his

friends to the head of the Empire, that he might be allowed to go even as

a common volunteer, and rejoin his former comrades with his knapsack on

his shoulder; but these petitions were refused, the will of the Emperor

was inflexible, and to each new application he only replied, "Let him

wait." The inhabitants of Besancon, who considered Colonel Delelee as

their fellow-citizen, interested themselves warmly in the unmerited

misfortunes of this brave officer; and when an occasion presented itself

of recommending him anew to the clemency, or rather to the justice, of

the Emperor, they availed themselves of it.

It was, I believe, on the return from Prussia and Poland that from all

parts of France there came deputations charged with congratulating the

Emperor upon his several victories. Colonel Delelee was unanimously

elected member of the deputation of Doubs, of which the mayor and prefect

of Besancon were also members, and of which the respectable Marshal

Moncey was president, and an opportunity was thus at last offered Colonel

Delelee of procuring the removal of the long sentence which had weighed

him down and kept his sword idle. He could speak to the Emperor, and

complain respectfully, but with dignity, of the disgrace in which he had

been so long kept without reason. He could render thanks, from the

bottom of his heart, for the generous affection of his fellow-citizens,

whose wishes, he hoped would plead for him with his Majesty.

The deputies of Besancon, upon their arrival at Paris, presented

themselves to the different ministers. The minister of police took the

president of the deputation aside, and asked him the meaning of the

presence among the deputies of a man publicly known to be in disgrace,

and the sight of whom could not fail to be disagreeable to the chief of

the Empire.

Marshal Moncey, on coming out from this private interview, pale and

frightened, entered the room of Colonel Delelee:

"My friend," said he, "all is lost, for I have ascertained at the bureau

that they are still hostile to you. If the Emperor sees you among us, he

will take it as an open avowal of disregard for his orders, and will be

furious."

"Ah, well, what have I to do with that?"

"But in order to avoid compromising the department, the deputation, and,

indeed, in order to avoid compromising yourself, you would perhaps do

well "--the Marshal hesitated. "I will do well?" demanded the Colonel.

"Perhaps to withdraw without making any display"--

Here the colonel interrupted the president of the deputation: "Marshal,

permit me to decline this advice; I have not come so far to be

discouraged, like a child, before the first obstacle. I am weary of a

disgrace which I have not deserved, and still more weary of enforced

idleness. Let the Emperor be irritated or pleased, he shall see me; let

him order me to be shot, if he wishes. I do not count worth having such

a life as I have led for the last four years. Nevertheless, I will be

satisfied with whatever my colleagues, the deputies of Besancon, shall

decide."

These latter did not disapprove of the colonel's resolution, and he

accompanied them to the Tuileries on the day of the solemn reception of

all the deputations of the Empire. All the halls of the Tuileries were

packed with a crowd in richly embroidered coats and brilliant uniforms.

The military household of the Emperor, his civil household, the generals

present at Paris, the diplomatic corps, ministers and chiefs of the

different administrations, the deputies of the departments with their

prefects, and mayors decorated with tricolored scarfs, were all assembled

in numerous groups, and conversed in a low tone while awaiting the

arrival of his Majesty.

In one of these groups was seen a tall officer dressed in a very simple

uniform, cut in the fashion of several years past. He wore neither on

his collar, nor even on his breast the decoration which no officer of his

grade then lacked. This was Colonel Delelee. The president of the

deputation of which he was a member appeared embarrassed and almost

distressed. Of the former comrades of the colonel, very few dared to

recognize him, and the boldest gave him a distant nod which expressed at

the same time anxiety and pity, while the more prudent did not even

glance at him.

As for him, he remained unconcerned and resolute.

At last the folding doors were opened, and an usher cried "The Emperor,

gentlemen."

The groups separated, and a line was formed, the colonel placing himself

in the first rank.

His Majesty commenced his tour of the room, welcoming the president of

each delegation with a few flattering words. Arrived before the

delegation from Doubs, the Emperor, having addressed a few words to the

brave marshal who was president, was about to pass on to the next, when

his eyes fell upon an officer he had not yet seen. He stopped in

surprise, and addressed to the deputy his familiar inquiry, "Who are

you?"

"Sire, I am Colonel Delelee, former aide-de-camp of General Moreau."

These words were pronounced in a firm voice, which resounded in the midst

of the profound silence which the presence of the sovereign imposed.

The Emperor stepped back, and fastened both eyes on the colonel. The

latter showed no emotion, but bowed slightly.

Marshal Moncey was pale as death.

The Emperor spoke. "What do you come to ask here?"

"That which I have asked for many years, Sire: that your Majesty will

deign to tell me wherein I have been in fault, or restore to me my rank."

Among those near enough to hear these questions and replies, few could

breathe freely. At last a smile half opened the firmly closed lips of

the Emperor; he placed his finger on his mouth, and, approaching the

colonel, said to him in a softened and almost friendly tone, "You have

reason to complain a little of that, but let us say no more about it,"

and continued his round. He had gone ten steps from the group formed by

the deputies of Bescancon, when he came back, and, stopping before the

colonel, said, "Monsieur Minister of War, take the name of this officer,

and be sure to remind me of him. He is tired of doing nothing, and we

will give him occupation."

As soon as the audience was over, the struggle was, who should be most

attentive to the colonel. He was surrounded, congratulated, embraced,

and pulled about. Each of his old comrades wished to carry him off, and

his hands were not enough to grasp all those extended to him. General

Savary, who that very evening had added to the fright of Marshal Moncey,

by being astonished that any one could have the audacity to brave the

Emperor, extended his arm over the shoulders of those who pressed around

the colonel, and shaking his hand in the most cordial manner possible,

"Delelee," cried he, "do not forget that I expect you to-morrow to

breakfast."

Two days after this scene at court, Colonel Delelee received his

appointment as chief of staff of the army of Portugal, commanded by the

Duke d'Abrantes. His preparations were soon made; and just before

setting out he had a last interview with the Emperor, who said to him,

"Colonel, I know that it is useless to urge you to make up for lost time.

In a little while I hope we shall both be satisfied with each other."

On coming out from this last audience, the brave Delelee said there was

nothing wanting to make him happy except a good opportunity to have

himself cut to pieces for a man who knew so well how to close the wounds

of a long disgrace. Such was the sway that his Majesty exercised over

the minds of men.

The colonel had soon crossed the Pyrenees, passed through Spain, and been

received by Junot with open arms. The army of Portugal had suffered much

in the two years during which it had struggled against both the

population and the English with unequal forces. Food was secured with

difficulty, and the soldiers were badly clothed, and half-shod. The new

chief of staff did all that was possible to remedy this disorder; and the

soldiers had just begun to feel the good effects of his presence, when he

fell sick from overwork and fatigue, and died before being able,

according to the Emperor's expression, to "make up for lost time."

I have said elsewhere that upon each conspiracy against the life of the

First Consul all the members of his household were at once subjected to a

strict surveillance; their smallest actions were watched; they were

followed outside the chateau; their conduct was reported even to the

smallest details. At the time the conspiracy of Pichegru was discovered,

there was only a single guardian of the portfolio, by the name of

Landoire; and his position was very trying, for he must always be present

in a little dark corridor upon which the door of the cabinet opened, and

he took his meals on the run, and half-dressed. Happily for Landoire,

they gave him an assistant; and this was the occasion of it.

Angel, one of the doorkeepers of the palace, was ordered by the First

Consul to place himself at the barrier of Bonshommes during the trial of

Pichegru, to recognize and watch the people of the household who came and

went in the transaction of their business, no one being allowed to leave

Paris without permission. Augel's reports having pleased the First

Consul, he sent for him, was satisfied with his replies and intelligence,

and appointed him assistant to Landoire in the custody of the portfolio.

Thus the task of the latter became lighter by half. In 1812 Angel was in

the campaign of Russia, and died on the return, when within a few leagues

of Paris, in consequence of the fatigue and privations which we shared

with the army.

However, it was not only those attached to the service of the First

Consul, or the chateau, who were subject to this surveillance.

When Napoleon became Emperor, the custodians of all the imperial palaces

were furnished with a register upon which all persons from outside, and

all strangers who came to visit any one in the palace were obliged to

inscribe their names, with that of the persons whom they came to see.

Every evening this register was carried to the grand marshal of the

palace, and in his absence to the governor, and the Emperor often

consulted it. He once found there a certain name which, as a husband, he

had his reasons, and perhaps good ones, to suspect. His Majesty had

previously ordered the exclusion of this person; and finding this unlucky

name again upon the custodian's register, he was angry beyond measure,

believing that they had dared on both sides to disobey his orders.

Investigation was immediately made; and it was fortunately ascertained

that the visitor was a most insignificant person, whose only fault was

that of bearing a name which was justly compromised.

CHAPTER XV.

The year 1804, which was so full of glory for the Emperor, was also the

year which brought him more care and anxiety than all others, except

those of 1814 and 1815. It is not my province to pass judgment on such

grave events, nor to determine what part was taken in them by the

Emperor, or by those who surrounded and counseled him, for it is my

object to relate only what I saw and heard. On the 21st of March of that

year I entered the Emperor's room at an early hour, and found him awake,

leaning on his elbow. He seemed gloomy and tired; but when I entered he

sat up, passed his hand many times over his forehead, and said to me,

"Constant, I have a headache." Then, throwing off the covering, he

added, "I have slept very badly." He seemed extremely preoccupied and

absorbed, and his appearance evinced melancholy and suffering to such a

degree that I was surprised and somewhat anxious. While I was dressing

him he did not utter a word, which never occurred except when something

agitated or worried him. During this time only Roustan and I were

present. His toilet being completed, just as I was handing him his

snuff-box, handkerchief, and little bonbon box, the door opened suddenly,

and the First Consul's wife entered, in her morning negligee, much

agitated, with traces of tears on her cheeks. Her sudden appearance

astonished, and even alarmed, Roustan and myself; for it was only an

extraordinary circumstance which could have induced Madame Bonaparte to

leave her room in this costume, before taking all necessary precautions

to conceal the damage which the want of the accessories of the toilet did

her. She entered, or rather rushed, into the room, crying, "The Duke

d'Enghien is dead! Ah, my friend! what have you done?" Then she fell

sobbing into the arms of the First Consul, who became pale as death, and

said with extraordinary emotion, "The miserable wretches have been too

quick!" He then left the room, supporting Madame Bonaparte, who could

hardly walk, and was still weeping. The news of the prince's death

spread consternation in the chateau; and the First Consul remarked this

universal grief, but reprimanded no one for it. The fact is, the

greatest chagrin which this mournful catastrophe caused his servants,

most of whom were attached to him by affection even more than by duty,

came from the belief that it would inevitably tarnish the glory and

destroy the peace of mind of their master.

The First Consul probably understood our feelings perfectly; but however

that may be, I have here related all that I myself saw and know of this

deplorable event. I do not pretend to know what passed in the cabinet

meeting, but the emotion of the First Consul appeared to me sincere and

unaffected; and he remained sad and silent for many days, speaking very

little at his toilet, and saying only what was necessary.

During this month and the following I noticed constantly passing,

repassing, and holding frequent interviews with the First Consul, many

persons whom I was told were members of the council of state, tribunes,

or senators. For a long time the army and a great number of citizens,

who idolized the hero of Italy and Egypt, had manifested openly their

desire to see him wear a title worthy of his renown and the greatness of

France. It was well known, also, that he alone performed all the duties

of government, and that his nominal colleagues were really his

subordinates. It was thought proper, therefore, that he should become

supreme head of the state in name, as he already was in fact. I have

often since his fall heard his Majesty called an usurper: but the only

effect of this on me is to provoke a smile of pity; for if the Emperor

usurped the throne, he had more accomplices than all the tyrants of

tragedy and melodrama combined, for three-fourths of the French people

were in the conspiracy. As is well known, it was on May 18 that the

Empire was proclaimed, and the First Consul (whom I shall henceforward

call the Emperor) received at Saint-Cloud the Senate, led by Consul

Cambaceres, who became, a few hours later, arch-chancellor of the Empire;

and it was by him that the Emperor heard himself for the first time

saluted with the title of Sire. After this audience the Senate went to

present its homage to the Empress Josephine. The rest of the day was

passed in receptions, presentations, interviews, and congratulations;

everybody in the chateau was drunk with joy; each one felt that he had

been suddenly promoted in rank, so they embraced each other, exchanged

compliments, and confided to each other hopes and plans for the future.

There was no subaltern too humble to be inspired with ambition; in a

word, the antechamber, saving the difference of persons, furnished an

exact repetition of what passed in the saloon. Nothing could be more

amusing than the embarrassment of the whole service when it was necessary

to reply to his Majesty's questions. They would begin with a mistake,

then would try again, and do worse, saying ten times in the same minute,

"Sire, general, your Majesty, citizen, First Consul." The next morning

on entering as usual the First Consul's room, to his customary questions,

"What o'clock is it? What is the weather?" I replied, "Sire, seven

o'clock; fine weather." As I approached his bed, he seized me by the

ear, and slapped me on the cheek, calling me "Monsieur le drole," which

was his favorite expression when especially pleased with me. His Majesty

had kept awake, and worked late into the night, and I found him serious

and preoccupied, but well satisfied. How different this awakening to

that of the 21st of March preceding! On this day his Majesty went to

hold his first grand levee at the Tuileries, where all the civil and

military authorities were presented to him. The brothers and sisters of

the Emperor were made princes and princesses, with the exception of

Lucien, who had quarreled with his Majesty on the occasion of his

marriage with Madame Jouberton. Eighteen generals were raised to the

dignity of marshals of the empire. Dating from this day, everything

around their Majesties took on the appearance of a court and royal power.

Much has been said of the awkwardness of the first courtiers, not yet

accustomed to the new duties imposed upon them, and to the ceremonials of

etiquette; and there was, indeed, in the beginning some embarrassment

experienced by those in the immediate service of the Emperor, as I have

said above; but this lasted only a short while, and the chamberlains and

high officials adapted themselves to the new regime almost as quickly as

the valets de chambre. They had also as instructors many personages of

the old court, who had been struck out of the list of emigres by the

kindness of the Emperor, and now solicited earnestly for themselves and

their wives employment in the new imperial court.

His majesty had no liking for the anniversaries of the Republic; some of

which had always seemed to him odious and cruel, others ridiculous; and I

have heard him express his indignation that they should have dared to

make an annual festival of the anniversary of the 21st of January, and

smile with pity at the recollection of what he called the masquerades of

the theo-philanthropists, who, he said, "would have no Jesus Christ, and

yet made saints of Fenelon and Las Casas--Catholic prelates."

Bourrienne, in his Memoirs, says that it was not one of the least

singular things in the policy of Napoleon, that during the first years of

his reign he retained the festival of 14th July. I will observe, as to

this, that if his Majesty used this annual solemnity to appear in pomp in

public, on the other hand, he so changed the object of the festival that

it would have been difficult to recognize in it the anniversary of the

taking of the Bastile and of the First Federation. I do not think that

there was one word in allusion to these two events in the whole ceremony;

and to confuse still further the recollections of the Republicans, the

Emperor ordered that the festival should be celebrated on the 15th,

because that was Sunday, and thus there would result no loss of time to

the inhabitants of the capital. Besides, there was no allusion made to

honoring the, captors of the Bastile, this being made simply the occasion

of a grand distribution of the cross of the Legion of Honor.

It was the first occasion on which their Majesties showed themselves to

the people in all the paraphernalia of power.

The cortege crossed the grand alley of the Tuileries on their way to the

Hotel des Invalides, the church of which (changed during the Revolution

into a Temple of Mars) had been restored by the Emperor to the Catholic

worship, and was used for the magnificent ceremonies of the day. This

was also the first time that the Emperor had made use of the privilege of

passing in a carriage through the garden of the Tuileries. His cortege

was superb, that of the Empress Josephine not less brilliant; and the

intoxication of the people reached such a height, that it was beyond

expression. By order of the Emperor I mingled in the crowd, to learn in

what spirit the populace would take part in the festival; and I heard not

a murmur, so great was the enthusiasm of all classes for his Majesty at

that time, whatever may have been said since. The Emperor and Empress

were received at the door of the Hotel des Invalides by the governor and

by Count de Segur, grand-master of ceremonies, and at the entrance of the

church by Cardinal du Belloy at the head of a numerous clergy. After the

mass, de Lacepede, grand chancellor of the Legion of Honor, delivered a

speech, followed by the roll-call of the grand officers of the Legion,

after which the Emperor took his seat, and putting on his hat, repeated

in a firm voice the formula of the oath, at the end of which all the

members of the Legion cried, "Je le jure!" (I swear it); and immediately

shouts of "Vive l'Empereur," repeated a thousand times, were heard in the

church and outside.

A singular circumstance added still more to the interest which the

ceremony excited. While the chevaliers of the new order were passing one

by one before the Emperor, who welcomed them, a man of the people,

wearing a roundabout, placed himself on the steps of the throne. His

Majesty showed some astonishment, and paused an instant, whereupon the

man, being interrogated, showed his warrant. The Emperor at once and

with great cordiality bade him advance, and gave him the decoration,

accompanied by a sharp accolade. The cortege, on its return, followed

the same route, passing again through the garden of the Tuileries.

On the 18th of July, three days after this ceremony, the Emperor set out

from Saint-Cloud for the camp of Boulogne. Believing that his Majesty

would be willing to dispense with my presence for a few days, and as it

was a number of years since I had seen my family, I felt a natural desire

to meet them again, and to review with my parents the singular

circumstances through which I had passed since I had left them.

I should have experienced, I confess, great joy in talking with them of

my present situation and my hopes; and I felt the need of freely

expressing myself, and enjoying the confidences of domestic privacy, in

compensation for the repression and constraint which my position imposed

on me. Therefore I requested permission to pass eight days at Perueltz.

It was readily granted, and I lost no time in setting out; but my

astonishment may be imagined when, the very day after my arrival, a

courier brought me a letter from the Count de Remusat, ordering me to

rejoin the Emperor immediately, adding that his Majesty needed me, and I

should have no other thought than that of returning without delay. In

spite of the disappointment induced by such orders, I felt flattered

nevertheless at having become so necessary to the great man who had

deigned to admit me into his service, and at once bade adieu to my

family. His Majesty had hardly reached Boulogne, when he set out again

immediately on a tour of several days in the departments of the north.

I was at Boulogne before his return, and had organized his Majesty's

service so that he found everything ready on his arrival; but this did

not prevent his saying to me that I had been absent a long time.

While I am on this subject, I will narrate here, although some years in

advance, one or two circumstances which will give the reader a better

idea of the rigorous confinement to which I was subjected. I had

contracted, in consequence of the fatigues of my continual journeyings in

the suite of the Emperor, a disease of the bladder, from which I suffered

horribly. For a long time I combated the disease with patience and

dieting; but at last, the pain having become entirely unbearable, in 1808

I requested of his Majesty a month's leave of absence in order to be

cured, Dr. Boyer having told me that a month was the shortest time

absolutely necessary for my restoration, and that without it my disease

would become incurable. I went to Saint-Cloud to visit my wife's family,

where Yvan, surgeon of the Emperor, came to see me every day. Hardly a

week had passed, when he told me that his Majesty thought I ought to be

entirely well, and wished me to resume my duties. This wish was

equivalent to an order; it was thus I understood it, and returned to the

Emperor, who seeing me pale, and suffering excruciatingly, deigned to say

to me many kind things, without, however, mentioning a new leave of

absence. These two were my only absences for sixteen years; therefore,

on my return from Moscow, and during the campaign of France, my disease

having reached its height, I quitted the Emperor at Fontainebleau,

because it was impossible for me, in spite of all my attachment to so

kind a master, and all the gratitude which I felt towards him, to perform

my duties longer. Even after this separation, which was exceedingly

painful to me, a year hardly sufficed to cure me, and then not entirely.

But I shall take occasion farther on to speak of this melancholy event.

I now return to the recital of facts, which prove that I could, with more

reason than many others, believe myself a person of great importance,

since my humble services seemed to be indispensable to the master of

Europe, and many frequenters of the Tuileries would have had more

difficulty than I in proving their usefulness. Is there too much vanity

in what I have just said? and would not the chamberlains have a right to

be vexed by it? I am not concerned with that, so I continue my

narrative. The Emperor was tenacious of old habits; he preferred, as we

have already seen, being served by me in preference to all others;

nevertheless, it is my duty to state that his servants were all full of

zeal and devotion, though I had been with him longest, and had never left

him. One day the Emperor asked for tea in the middle of the day. M.

Seneschal was on duty, consequently made the tea, and presented it to his

Majesty, who declared it to be detestable, and had me summoned. The

Emperor complained to me that they were trying to poison him (this was

his expression when he found a bad taste in anything); so going into the

kitchen, I poured out of the same teapot, a cup, which I prepared and

carried to his Majesty, with two silver-gilt spoons as usual, one to

taste the tea in the presence of the Emperor, and the other for him.

This time he said the tea was excellent, and complimented me on it with a

kind familiarity which he deigned at times to use towards his servants.

On returning the cup to me, he pulled my ears, and said, "You must teach

them how to make tea; they know nothing about it." De Bourrienne, whose

excellent Memoirs I have read with the greatest pleasure, says somewhere,

that the Emperor in his moments of good humor pinched the tip of the ears

of his familiars. I myself think that he pinched the whole ear, often,

indeed, both ears at once, and with the hand of a master. He also says

in these same Memoirs, that the Emperor gave little friendly slaps with

two fingers, in which De Bourrienne is very moderate, for I can bear

witness in regard to this matter, that his Majesty, although his hand was

not large, bestowed his favors much more broadly; but this kind of

caress, as well as the former, was given and received as a mark of

particular favor, and the recipients were far from complaining then. I

have heard more than one dignitary say with pride, like the sergeant in

the comedy,--

"Sir, feel there, the blow upon my cheek is still warm."

In his private apartments the Emperor was almost always cheerful and

approachable, conversing freely with the persons in his service,

questioning them about their families, their affairs, and even as to

their pleasures. His toilet finished, his appearance suddenly changed;

he became grave and thoughtful, and assumed again the bearing of an

emperor. It has been said, that he often beat the people of his

household, which statement is untrue. I saw him once only give himself

up to a transport of this kind; and certainly the circumstances which

caused it, and the reparation which followed, ought to render it, if not

excusable, at least easily understood: This is the incident, of which I

was a witness, and which took place in the suburbs of Vienna, the day

after the death of Marshal Lannes. The Emperor was profoundly affected,

and had not spoken a word during his toilet. As soon as he was dressed

he asked for his horse; and as an unlucky chance would have it, Jardin,

superintendent of the stables, could not be found when the horse was

saddled, and the groom did not put on him his regular bridle, in

consequence of which his Majesty had no sooner mounted, than the animal

plunged, reared, and the rider fell heavily to the ground. Jardin

arrived just as the Emperor was rising from the ground, beside himself

with anger; and in his first transport of rage, he gave Jardin a blow

with his riding-whip directly across his face. Jardin withdrew,

overwhelmed by such cruel treatment, so unusual in his Majesty; and: few

hours after, Caulaincourt, grand equerry, finding himself alone with his

Majesty, described to him Jardin's grief and mortification. The Emperor

expressed deep regret for his anger, sent for Jardin, and spoke to him

with a kindness which effaced the remembrance of his ill treatment, and

sent him a few days afterward three thousand francs. I have been told

that a similar incident happened to Vigogne, senior, in Egypt. But

although this may be true, two such instances alone in the entire life of

the Emperor, which was passed amid surroundings so well calculated to

make a man, even though naturally most amiable, depart from his usual

character, should not be sufficient to draw down upon Napoleon the odious

reproach of beating cruelly those in his service.

CHAPTER XVI.

In his headquarters at the Pont des Briques the Emperor worked as

regularly as in his cabinet at the Tuileries. After his rides on

horseback, his inspections, his visits, his reviews, he took his meals in

haste, and retired into his cabinet, where he often worked most of the

night, thus leading the same life as at Paris. In his horseback rides

Roustan followed him everywhere, always taking with him a little silver

flask of brandy for the use of his Majesty, who rarely asked for it.

The army of Boulogne was composed of about one hundred and fifty thousand

infantry and ninety thousand cavalry, divided into four principal camps,

the camp of the right wing, the camp of the left wing, the camp of

Wimereux, and the camp of Ambleteuse.

His Majesty the Emperor had his headquarters at Pont de Briques; thus

named, I was told, because the brick foundations of an old camp of

Caesar's had been discovered there. The Pont de Briques, as I have said

above, is about half a league from Boulogne; and the headquarters of his

Majesty were established in the only house of the place which was then

habitable, and guarded by a detachment of the cavalry of the Imperial

Guard.

The four camps were on a very high cliff overlooking the sea, so situated

that in fine weather the coast of England could be seen.

In the camp on the right they had established barracks for the Emperor,

Admiral Bruix, Marshal Soult, and Decres, who was then minister of the

navy.

The Emperor's barrack was constructed under the direction of Sordi,

engineer, performing the functions of engineer-in-chief of military

roads; and his nephew, Lecat de Rue, attached at that time to the staff

of Marshal Soult as aide-de-camp, has been kind enough to furnish me with

information which did not come within my province.

The Emperor's barrack was built of plank, like the booths of a country

fair; with this difference, that the planks were neatly planed, and

painted a grayish white. In form it was a long square, having at each

end two pavilions of semicircular shape. A fence formed of wooden

lattice inclosed this barrack, which was lighted on the outside by lamps

placed four feet apart, and the windows were placed laterally. The

pavilion next to the sea consisted of three rooms and a hall, the

principal room, used as a council-chamber, being decorated with

silver-gray paper. On the ceiling were painted golden clouds, in the

midst of which appeared, upon the blue vault of the sky, an eagle

holding the lightning, and guided towards England by a star, the

guardian star of the Emperor. In the middle of this chamber was a large

oval table with a plain cover of green cloth; and before this table was

placed only his Majesty's armchair, which could be taken to pieces, and

was made of natural wood, unpainted, and covered with green morocco

stuffed with hair, while upon the table was a boxwood writing-desk.

This was the entire furniture of the council-chamber, in which his

Majesty alone could be seated. The generals stood before him, and had

during these councils, which sometimes lasted three or four hours, no

other support than the handles of their sabers.

The council-chamber was entered from a hall. On the right of this hall

was his Majesty's bedroom, which had a glass door, and was lighted by a

window which looked out upon the camp of the right wing, while the sea

could be seen on the left. In this room was the Emperor's iron bed, with

a large curtain of plain green sarsenet fastened to the ceiling by a

gilded copper ring; and upon this bed were two mattresses, one made of

hair, two bolsters, one at the head, the other at the foot, no pillow,

and two coverlets, one of white cotton, the other of green sarsenet,

wadded and quilted; by the side of the bed two very simple folding-seats,

and at the window short curtains of green sarsenet.

This room was papered with rose-colored paper, stamped with a pattern in

lace-work, with an Etruscan border.

Opposite the-bedroom was a similar chamber, in which was a peculiar kind

of telescope which had cost twelve thousand francs. This instrument was

about four feet long, and about a foot in diameter, and was mounted on a

mahogany support, with three feet, the box in which it was kept being

almost in the shape of a piano. In the same room, upon two stools, was a

little square chest, which contained three complete suits and the linen

which formed the campaign wardrobe of his Majesty. Above this was a

single extra hat, lined with white satin, and much the worse for wear;

for the Emperor, as I shall say later in speaking of his personal

peculiarities, having a very tender scalp, did not like new hats, and

wore the same a long time.

The main body of the imperial barrack was divided into three rooms, a

saloon, a vestibule, and a grand dining-room, which communicated with the

kitchens by a passage parallel to that I have just mentioned. Outside

the barrack, and connected with the kitchen, was a little shed, covered

with thatch, which served as a washroom, and which was also used as a

butler's pantry.

The barrack of Admiral Bruix was arranged like that of the Emperor, but

on a smaller scale.

Near this barrack was the semaphore of the signals, a sort of marine

telegraph by which the fleet was maneuvered. A little farther on was the

Tour d'Ordre, with a powerful battery composed of six mortars, six

howitzers, and twelve twenty-four pounders.

These six mortars, the largest that had ever been made, were six inches

thick, used forty-five pounds of powder at a charge, and threw bombs

fifteen hundred toises [A toise is six feet, and a league is three

miles] in the air, and a league and a half out to sea, each bomb thrown

costing the state three hundred francs. To fire one of these fearful

machines they used port-fires twelve feet long; and the cannoneer

protected himself as best he could by bowing his head between his legs,

and, not rising until after the shot was fired. The Emperor decided to

fire the first bomb himself.

To the right of the headquarters battery was the barrack of Marshal

Soult, which was constructed in imitation of the but of a savage, and

covered with thatch down to the ground, with glass in the top, and a door

through which you descended into the rooms, which were dug out like

cellars. The principal chamber was round; and in it was a large

work-table covered with green cloth, and surrounded with small leather

folding-chairs.

The last barrack was that of Decres, minister of the navy, which was

furnished like that of Marshal Soult. From his barrack the Emperor could

observe all the maneuvers at sea; and the telescope, of which I have

spoken, was so good that Dover Castle, with its garrison, was, so to

speak, under the very eyes of his Majesty. The camp of the right wing,

situated upon the cliff, was divided into streets, each of which bore the

name of some distinguished general; and this cliff bristled with

batteries from Cologne to Ambleteuse, a distance of more than two

leagues.

In order to go from Boulogne to the camp of the right wing, there was

only one road, which began in the Rue des Vieillards, and passed over the

cliff, between the barrack of his Majesty and those of Bruix, Soult, and

Decres, so that if at low tide the Emperor wished to go down upon the

beach, a long detour was necessary. One day when he was complaining

greatly of this, it occurred to Bonnefoux, maritime prefect of Boulogne,

to apply to Sordi, engineer of military roads, and ascertain if it was

not possible to remedy this great inconvenience.

The engineer replied that it was feasible to provide a road for his

Majesty directly from his barrack to the beach; but that in view of the

great height of the cliff it would be necessary to moderate the rapidity

of the descent by making the road zigzag. "Make it as you wish," said

the Emperor, "only let it be ready for use in three days." The skillful

engineer went to work, and in three days and three nights the road was

constructed of stone, bound together with iron clamps; and the Emperor,

charmed with so much diligence and ingenuity, had the name of Sordi

placed on the list for the next distribution of the cross of the Legion

of Honor, but, owing to the shameful negligence of some one, the name of

this man of talent was overlooked. The port of Boulogne contained about

seventeen hundred vessels, such as flatboats, sloops, turkish boats,

gunboats, prairies, mortar-boats, etc.; and the entrance to the port was

defended by an enormous chain, and by four forts, two on the right, and

two on the left.

Fort Husoir, placed on the left, was armed with three formidable

batteries ranged one above the other, the lower row bearing twenty-four

pounders, the second and third, thirty-six pounders. On the right of

this fort was the revolving bridge, and behind this bridge an old tower

called Castle Croi, ornamented with batteries which were both handsome

and effective. To the left, about a quarter of a league from Fort

Musoir, was Fort La Creche, projecting boldly into the sea, constructed

of cut stone, and crowned by a terrible battery; and finally, on the

right of Fort La Creche, was the Fort en Bois, perfectly manned, and

pierced by a large opening which was uncovered at low tide.

Upon the cliff to the left of the town, at nearly the same elevation as

the other, was the camp of the left wing. Here was situated the barrack

of Prince Joseph, at that time colonel of the Fourth Regiment of the

line; this barrack was covered with thatch. Below the camp, at the foot

of the cliff, the Emperor had a basin hollowed out, in which work a part

of the troops were employed.

It was in this basin that one day a young soldier of the Guard, who had

stuck in the mud up to his knees, tried with all his strength to pull out

his wheelbarrow, which was even worse mired than himself; but he could

not succeed, and covered with sweat, swore and stormed like an angry

grenadier. By chance lifting his eyes, he suddenly perceived the

Emperor, who was passing by the works on his way to visit his brother

Joseph in the camp on the left. The soldier looked at him with a

beseeching air and gesture, singing in a most sentimental tone, "Come,

oh, come, to my aid." His Majesty could not help smiling, and made signs

to the soldier to approach, which the poor fellow did, after extricating

himself with great difficulty. "What is your regiment"--"Sire, the First

of the Guard."--"How long have you been a soldier?"--"Since you have been

Emperor, Sire."--"Indeed, that is not a long time! It is not long enough

for me to make you an officer, is it? But conduct yourself well, and I

will have you made sergeant-major. After that, the cross and epaulets on

the first battlefield. Are you content?"--"Yes, Sire."--"Chief of

Staff," continued the Emperor, addressing General Berthier, "take the

name of this young man. You will give him three hundred francs to clean

his pantaloons and repair his wheelbarrow." And his Majesty rode on in

the midst of the acclamations of the soldiers.

At the inside extremity of the port, there was a wooden bridge which they

called the Service bridge. The powder magazines were behind it,

containing an immense amount of ammunition; and after nightfall no one

was allowed to go upon this bridge without giving the countersign to the

second sentinel, for the first always allowed him to pass. He was not

allowed to pass back again, however; for if any person entering the

bridge was ignorant of the countersign, or had happened to forget it, he

was stopped by the second sentinel, and the first sentinel at the head of

the bridge had express orders to pass his bayonet through the body of the

rash man if he was unable to answer the questions of this last sentinel.

These rigorous precautions were rendered necessary by the vicinity of

these terrible powder magazines, which a single spark might blow up, and

with it the town, the fleet, and the two camps.

At night the port was closed with the big chain I have mentioned, and the

wharves were picketed by sentinels placed fifteen paces from each other.

Each quarter of an hour they called, "Sentinels, look out!" And the

soldiers of the marine, placed in the topsails, replied to this by,

"All's well," pronounced in a drawling, mournful tone. Nothing could be

more monotonous or depressing than this continual murmur, this lugubrious

mingling of voices all in the same tone, especially as those making these

cries endeavored to make them as inspiring as possible.

Women not residing in Boulogne were prohibited from remaining there

without a special permit from the minister of police. This measure had

been judged necessary on account of the army; for otherwise each soldier

perhaps would have brought a woman to Boulogne, and the disorder would

have been indescribable. Strangers were admitted into the town with

great difficulty.

In spite of all these precautions, spies from the English fleet each day

penetrated into Boulogne. When they were discovered no quarter was

given; and notwithstanding this, emissaries who had landed, no one knew

where, came each evening to the theater, and carried their imprudence so

far as to write their opinion of the actors and actresses, whom they

designated by name, and to post these writings on the walls of the

theater, thus defying the police. One day there were found on the shore

two little boats covered with tarpaulin, which these gentry probably used

in their clandestine excursions.

In June, 1804, eight Englishmen, perfectly well dressed, in white silk

stockings, etc., were arrested, and on them was found sulphurated

apparatus with which they had intended to burn the fleet. They were shot

within an hour, without any form of trial.

There were also traitors in Boulogne. A schoolmaster, the secret agent

of Lords Keith and Melville, was surprised one morning on the cliff above

the camp of the right wing, making telegraphic signals with his arms; and

being arrested almost in the act by the sentinels, he protested his

innocence, and tried to turn the incident into a jest, but his papers

were searched, and correspondence with the English found, which clearly

proved his guilt. He was delivered to the council of war, and shot the

next day.

One evening between eleven o'clock and midnight, a fire-ship, rigged like

a French ship, flying French colors, and in every respect resembling a

gunboat, advanced towards the line of battle and passed through. By

unpardonable negligence the chain had not been stretched that evening.

This fire-ship was followed by a second, which exploded, striking a

sloop, which went down with it. This explosion gave the alarm to the

whole fleet; and lights instantly shone in every direction, revealing the

first fire-ship advancing between the jetties, a sight which was

witnessed with inexpressible anxiety. Three or four pieces of wood

connected by cables fortunately stopped her progress; but she blew up

with such a shock that the glasses of all the windows in town were

shattered, and a great number of the inhabitants, who for want of beds

were sleeping upon tables, were thrown to the floor, and awakened by the

fall without comprehending what had happened. In ten minutes everybody

was stirring, as it was thought that the English were in the port; and

there ensued such confusion, such a mingled tumult of noises and screams,

that no one could make himself understood, until criers preceded by drums

were sent through the town to reassure the inhabitants, and inform them

that all danger was past.

The next day songs were composed on this nocturnal alarm, and were soon

in every mouth.

Another alarm, but of an entirely different kind, upset all Boulogne in

the autumn of 1804. About eight o'clock in the evening a chimney caught

fire on the right of the port; and the light of this fire, shining

through the masts of the flotilla, alarmed the commandant of a post on

the opposite shore. At this time all the vessels had powder and

ammunition on board; and the poor commandant, beside himself with terror,

cried, "Boys, the fleet is on fire;" and immediately had the alarm

beaten. The frightful news spread like lightning; and in less than half

an hour more than sixty thousand men appeared upon the wharves, the

tocsin was sounded in all the churches, the forts fired alarm guns, while

drums and trumpets sounded along the streets, the whole making an

infernal tumult.

The Emperor was at headquarters when this terrible cry, "The fleet is on

fire," came to his ears. "It is impossible!" he immediately exclaimed,

but, nevertheless, rushed out instantly.

On entering the town, what a frightful spectacle we beheld. Women in

tears, holding their children in their arms, ran like lunatics, uttering

cries of despair, while men abandoned their houses, carrying off whatever

was most valuable, running against and knocking each other over in the

darkness. On all sides was heard, "Mauve qui peat; we are going to be

blown up, we are all lost;" and the maledictions, lamentations,

blasphemies, were sufficient to make your hair stand on end.

The aides-de-camp of his Majesty and those of Marshal Soult galloped in

every direction, forcing their way through the crowds, stopping the

drummers, and asking them, "Why do you beat the alarm? Who has ordered

you to beat the alarm?"--"We don't know," they replied; and the drums

continued to beat, while the tumult kept on increasing, and the crowd

rushed to the gates, struck by a terror which a moment's reflection would

have dissipated. But, unfortunately, fear gives no time for reflection.

It is true, however, that a considerable number of inhabitants, less

excitable than these I have described, remained quietly at home, well

knowing that if the fleet had really been on fire, there would have been

no time to give an alarm. These persons made every effort to quiet the

excited crowd. Madame F----, the very pretty and very amiable wife of a

clockmaker, was in her kitchen making preparations for supper, when a

neighbor, thoroughly frightened, entered, and said to her, "Save yourself

Madame; you have not a moment to lose!"--"What is the matter?"--"The

fleet is on fire!"--"Ah-pshaw!"--"Fly then, Madame, fly! I tell you the

fleet is on fire." And the neighbor took Madame F---- by the arm, and

endeavored to pull her along. Madame F---- held at the moment a

frying-pan in which she was cooking some fritters. "Take care; you will

make me burn my fritters," said she, laughing. And with a few half

serious, half jesting words she reassured the poor fellow, who ended by

laughing at himself.

At last the tumult was appeased, and to this great fright a profound calm

succeeded. No explosion had been heard; and they saw that it must have

been a false alarm, so each returned home, thinking no longer of the

fire, but agitated by another fear. The robbers may have profited by the

absence of the inhabitants to pillage the houses, but as luck would have

it no mischance of this kind had taken place.

The next day the poor commandant who had so inopportunely taken and given

the alarm was brought before the council of war. He was guilty of no

intentional wrong; but the law was explicit, and he was condemned to

death. His judges, however, recommended him to the mercy of the Emperor,

who pardoned him.

CHAPTER XVII.

Many of the brave soldiers who composed the army of Boulogne had earned

the cross (of the Legion of Honor) in these last campaigns, and his

Majesty desired that this distribution should be made an impressive

occasion, which should long be remembered. He chose the day after his

fete, Aug. 16, 1804. Never has there been in the past, nor can there be

in the future, a more imposing spectacle.

At six o'clock in the morning, more than eighty thousand men left the

four camps,--at their head drums beating and bands playing,--and advanced

by divisions towards the "Hubertmill" field, which was on the cliff

beyond the camp of the right wing. On this plain an immense platform had

been erected, about fifteen feet above the ground, and with its back

toward the sea. It was reached by three flights of richly carpeted

steps, situated in the middle and on each side. From the stage thus

formed, about forty feet square, rose three other platforms, the central

one bearing the imperial armchair, decorated with trophies and banners,

while that on the left held seats for the brothers of the Emperor, and

for the grand dignitaries, and that on the right bore a tripod of antique

form, surmounted by a helmet (the helmet of Duguesclin, I think), covered

with crosses and ribbons. By the side of the tripod had been placed a

seat for the arch-chancellor.

About three hundred steps from the throne, the land rose in a slight and

almost circular ascent; and on this ascent the troops were arranged as in

an amphitheater. To the right of the throne, on an eminence, were placed

sixty or eighty tents made of naval flags; these tents were intended for

the ladies of the city, and made a charming picture, but they were so far

from the throne that the spectators who filled them were obliged to use

glasses. Between these tents and the throne a part of the Imperial Guard

was ranged in line of battle.

The weather was perfect; there was not a cloud in the sky; the English

cruisers had disappeared; and on the sea could be seen only our line of

vessels handsomely decorated with flags.

At ten o'clock in the morning, a discharge of artillery announced the

departure of the Emperor; and his Majesty left his barrack, surrounded by

more than eighty generals and two hundred aides-decamp, all his household

following him. The Emperor was dressed in the uniform of the

colonel-general of the infantry of the guard. He rode at a gallop to

the foot of the throne, in the midst of universal acclamations and the

most deafening uproar made by drums, trumpets, and cannon, beating,

blowing, and roaring all together.

His Majesty mounted the throne, followed by his brothers and the grand

dignitaries; and when he was seated each one took his designated place,

and the distribution of the crosses began in the following manner:

An aide-de-camp of the Emperor called by name the soldiers to be honored,

who one by one stopped at the foot of the throne, bowed, and mounted the

steps on the right. There they were received by the arch-chancellor, who

delivered to them their commissions; and two pages, placed between the

Emperor and the tripod, took the decoration from the helmet of

Duguesclin, and handed it to his Majesty, who fastened it himself on the

breast of the brave fellow. Instantly more than eight hundred drums beat

a tattoo; and when the soldier thus decorated descended from the throne

by the steps on the left, as he passed before the brilliant staff of the

Emperor a burst of music from more than twelve hundred musicians signaled

the return to his company of the Knight of the Legion of Honor. It is

needless to say that the cry of 'Vive l'Empereur' was repeated twice at

each decoration.

The distribution began at ten o'clock, and ended about three. Then,

according to orders borne by the aides-decamp to the divisions, a volley

of artillery was heard, and eighty thousand men advanced in close columns

to within twenty or thirty steps of the throne. The most profound

silence succeeded the noise of drums; and, the Emperor having given his

orders, the troops executed maneuvers for about an hour, at the end of

which each division defiled before the throne as they returned to the

camp. Each chief, on passing, saluted by lowering the point of his

sword. Specially noticeable among them was Prince Joseph, newly

appointed colonel of the Fourth Regiment of the line, who made his

brother a salute more graceful than military. The Emperor frowned

slightly at the somewhat critical remarks which his old companions in

arms seemed inclined to make on this subject; but except for this slight

cloud, the countenance of his Majesty was never more radiant.

Just as the troops were filing off, the wind, which for two or three

hours had been blowing violently, became a perfect gale, and an orderly

officer came in haste to inform his Majesty that four or five gunboats

had just been driven ashore. The Emperor at once left the plain at a

gallop, followed by some of the marshals, and took his position on the

shore until the crews of the gunboats were saved, and the Emperor then

returned to the Pont des Briques.

This immense army could not regain its quarters before eight o'clock in

the evening. The next day the camp of the left wing gave a military

fete, at which the Emperor was present.

From early in the morning, launches mounted on wheels ran at full speed

through the streets of the camp, driven by a favorable wind. Officers

amused themselves riding after them at a gallop, and rarely overtaking

them. This exercise lasted an hour or two; but, the wind having changed,

the launches upset, amid shouts of laughter.

This was followed by a horseback race, the prize being twelve hundred

francs. A lieutenant of dragoons, very popular in his company, asked as

a favor to be allowed to compete; but the haughty council of superior

officers refused to admit him, under the pretext that his rank was not

sufficiently high, but, in reality, because he had the reputation of

being a splendid horseman. Stung to the quick by this unjust refusal,

the lieutenant of dragoons applied to the Emperor, who gave him

permission to race with the others, after having learned that this brave

officer supported by his own exertions a numerous family, and that his

conduct was irreproachable.

At a given signal the races began. The lieutenant of dragoons soon

passed his antagonists, and had almost reached the goal, when, by an

unfortunate mischance, a little poodle ran between the legs of his horse,

and threw him down. An aide-de-camp who came immediately after was

proclaimed victor. The lieutenant picked himself up as well as he could,

and was preparing, very sadly, to retire, somewhat consoled by the signs

of interest which the spectators manifested, when the Emperor summoned

him, and said, "You deserve the prize, and you shall have it; I make you

captain." And addressing himself to the grand marshal of the palace,

"You will pay twelve hundred francs to the Captain" (the name does not

occur to me), while all cried, "Vive l'Empereur," and congratulated the

new captain on his lucky fall.

In the evening there were fireworks, which could be seen from the coast

of England. Thirty thousand soldiers executed all sorts of maneuvers,

firing sky-rockets from their guns. The crowning piece, which

represented the arms of the Empire, was so fine that for five minutes

Boulogne, the country, and all the coast, were lighted up as if it were

broad daylight.

A few days after these fetes, as the Emperor was passing from one camp to

the other, a sailor who was watching for him in order to hand him a

petition was obliged, as the rain was falling in torrents, and he was

afraid of spoiling the sheet of paper, to place himself under shelter in

an isolated barrack on the shore, used to store rigging. He had been

waiting a long time, and was wet to the skin, when he saw the Emperor

coming from the camp of the left wing at a gallop. Just as his Majesty,

still galloping, was about to pass before the barrack, the brave sailor,

who was on the lookout, sprang suddenly from his hiding place, and threw

himself before the Emperor, holding out his petition in the attitude of a

fencing-master defending himself. The Emperor's horse, startled by this

sudden apparition, stopped short; and his Majesty, taken by surprise,

gave the sailor a disapproving glance, and passed on without taking the

petition which was offered him in so unusual a manner.

It was on this day, I think, that Monsieur Decres, minister of the navy,

had the misfortune to fall into the water, to the very great amusement of

his Majesty. To enable the Emperor to pass from the quay to a gunboat,

there had been a single plank thrown from the boat to the quay. Napoleon

passed, or rather leaped, over this light bridge, and was received on

board in 'the arms of a soldier of the guard; but M. Decres, more stout,

and less active than the Emperor, advanced carefully over the plank that

he found to his horror was bending under his feet, until just as he

arrived in the middle, the weight of his body broke the plank, and the

minister of the navy was precipitated into the water, midway between the

quay and the boat. His Majesty turned at the noise that M. Decres made

in falling, and leaning over the side of the boat, exclaimed, "What! Is

that our minister of the navy who has allowed himself to fall in the

water? Is it possible it can be he?" The Emperor during this speech

laughed most uproariously. Meanwhile, two or three sailors were engaged

in getting M. Decres out of his embarrassing position. He was with much

difficulty hoisted on the sloop, in a sad state, as may be believed,

vomiting water through his nose, mouth, and ears, and thoroughly ashamed

of his accident, which the Emperor's jokes contributed to render still

more exasperating.

Towards the end of our stay the generals gave a magnificent ball to the

ladies of the city, at which the Emperor was present.

For this purpose a temporary hall had been erected, which was tastefully

decorated with garlands, flags, and trophies.

General Bertrand was appointed master of ceremonies by his colleagues;

and General Bisson. I was put in charge of the buffet, which employment

suited General Bisson perfectly, for he was the greatest glutton in camp,

and his enormous stomach interfered greatly with his walking. He drank

not less than six or seven bottles of wine at dinner, and never alone;

for it was a punishment to him not to talk while eating, consequently he

usually invited his aides-de-camp, whom, through malice no doubt, he

chose always from among the most delicate and abstemious in the army.

The buffet was worthy of the one who had it in charge.

The orchestra was composed of musicians from twenty regiments, who played

in turn. But on the opening of the ball the entire orchestra executed a

triumphal march, during which the aides-de-Camp, most elegantly attired,

received the ladies invited, and presented them with bouquets.

In order to be admitted to this ball, it was necessary to have at least

the rank of commandant. It is, impossible to give an idea of the scene

presented by this multitude of uniforms, each vying in brilliancy with

the other. The fifty or sixty generals who gave the ball had ordered

from Paris magnificently embroidered uniforms, and the group they formed

around his Majesty as he entered glittered with gold and diamonds. The

Emperor remained an hour at this fete, and danced the Boulanyere with

Madame Bertrand. He wore the uniform of colonel-general of the cavalry

of the guard.

The wife of Marshal Soult was queen of the ball. She wore a black velvet

dress besprinkled with the kind of diamonds called rhinestones.

At midnight a splendid supper was served, the preparation of which

General Bisson had superintended, which is equivalent to saying that

nothing was wanting thereto.

The ladies of Boulogne, who had never attended such a fete, were filled

with amazement, and when supper was served advised each other to fill up

their reticules with dainties and sweets. They would have carried away,

I think, the hall, with the musicians and dancers; and for more than a

month this ball was the only subject of their conversation.

About this time his Majesty was riding on horseback near his barracks,

when a pretty young girl of fifteen or sixteen, dressed in white, her

face bathed in tears, threw herself on her knees in his path. The

Emperor immediately alighted from his horse, and assisted her to rise,

asking most compassionately what he could do for her. The poor girl had

come to entreat the pardon of her father, a storekeeper in the commissary

department, who had been condemned to the galleys for grave crimes. His

Majesty could not resist the many charms of the youthful suppliant, and

the pardon was granted.

CHAPTER XVIII.

At Boulogne, as everywhere else, the Emperor well knew how to win all

hearts by his moderation, his justice, and the generous grace with which

he acknowledged the least service. All the inhabitants of Boulogne, even

all the peasants of the suburbs, would have died for him, and the

smallest particulars relating to him were constantly repeated. One day,

however, his conduct gave rise to serious complaints, and he was

unanimously blamed; for his injustice was the cause of a terrible

tragedy. I will now relate this sad event, an authentic account of which

I have never seen in print.

One morning, as he mounted his horse, the Emperor announced that he would

that day review the naval forces, and gave orders that the boats which

occupied the line of defense should leave their position, as he intended

to hold the review in the open sea. He set out with Roustan for his

morning ride, and expressed a wish that all should be ready on his

return, the hour of which he designated. Every one knew that the

slightest wish of the Emperor was law; and the order was transmitted,

during his absence, to Admiral Bruix, who replied with imperturbable

'sang froid', that he much regretted it, but the review would not take

place that day, and in consequence no boat stirred.

On his return from his ride, the Emperor asked if everything was ready,

and the admiral's answer was reported to him. Astonished by its tone, so

different from what he was accustomed to, he had it repeated to him

twice, and then, with a violent stamp of his foot, ordered the admiral to

be summoned. He obeyed instantly; but the Emperor, thinking he did not

come quickly enough, met him half-way from his barracks. The staff

followed his Majesty, and placed themselves silently around him, while

his eyes shot lightning.

"Admiral Bruix," said the Emperor in a tone showing great excitement,

"why have you not obeyed my orders?"

"Sire," responded Bruix with respectful firmness, "a terrible storm is

gathering. Your Majesty can see this as well as I; are you willing to

uselessly risk the lives of so many brave men?" In truth, the heaviness

of the atmosphere, and the low rumbling which could be heard in the

distance, justified only too well the admiral's fears. "Monsieur,"

replied the Emperor, more and more irritated, "I gave the orders; once

again, why have you not executed them? The consequences concern me

alone. Obey!"--"Sire, I will not obey!"--"Monsieur, you are insolent!"

And the Emperor, who still held his riding-whip in his hand, advanced on

the admiral, making a threatening gesture. Admiral Bruix retreated a

step, and placed his hand on the hilt of his sword: "Sire," said he,

growing pale, "take care!" All those present were paralyzed with terror.

The Emperor remained for some time immovable, with his hand raised, and

his eyes fixed on the admiral, who still maintained his defiant attitude.

At last the Emperor threw his whip on the ground. Admiral Bruix relaxed

his hold on his sword, and, with uncovered head, awaited in silence the

result of this terrible scene.

"Rear-admiral Magon!" said the Emperor, "you will see that the orders

which I have given are executed instantly. As for you, sir," continued

he, turning to Admiral Bruix, "you will leave Boulogne within twenty-four

hours, and retire to Holland. Go!" His Majesty returned at once to

headquarters; some of the officers, only a small number, however, pressed

in parting the hand that the admiral held out to them.

Rear-admiral Magon immediately ordered the fatal movement commanded by

the Emperor; but hardly had the first dispositions been made when the sea

became frightful to behold, the sky, covered with black clouds, was

furrowed with lightning, the thunder roared incessantly, and the wind

increased to a gale. In fact, what Admiral Bruix had foreseen occurred;

a frightful tempest scattered the boats in every direction, and rendered

their condition desperate. The Emperor, anxious and uneasy, with lowered

head and crossed arms, was striding up and down the shore, when suddenly

terrible cries were heard. More than twenty gunboats, filled with

soldiers and sailors, had just been driven on the shore; and the poor

unfortunates who manned them, struggling against furious waves, were

imploring help which none could venture to render. The Emperor was

deeply touched by this sight, while his heart was torn by the

lamentations of an immense crowd which the tempest had collected on the

shore and the adjoining cliffs. He beheld his generals and officers

stand in shuddering horror around him, and wishing to set an example of

self-sacrifice, in spite of all efforts made to restrain him, threw

himself into a lifeboat, saying, "Let me alone; let me alone! They must

be gotten out of there." In an instant the boat filled with water, the

waves dashed over it, and the Emperor was submerged, one wave stronger

than the others threw his Majesty on the shore, and his hat was swept

off.

Electrified by such courage, officers, soldiers, sailors, and citizens

now began to lend their aid, some swimming, others in boats; but, alas!

they succeeded in saving--only a very small number of the unfortunate men

who composed the crews of the gunboats, and the next day the sea cast

upon the shore more than two hundred men, and with them the hat of the

conqueror of Marengo.

The next was a day of mourning and of grief, both in Boulogne and the

camp. The inhabitants and soldiers covered the beach, searching

anxiously among the bodies which the waves incessantly cast upon the

shore; and the Emperor groaned over this terrible calamity, which in his

inmost heart he could not fail to attribute to his own obstinacy. By his

orders agents entrusted with gold went through the city and camp,

stopping the murmurs which were ready to break forth.

That day I saw a drummer, who had been among the crew of the shipwrecked

vessels, washed upon the shore upon his drum, which lie had used as a

raft. The poor fellow had his thigh broken, and had remained more than

twenty hours in that horrible condition.

In order to complete in this place my recollections of the camp of

Boulogne, I will relate the following, which did not take place, however,

until the month of August, 1805, after the return of the Emperor from his

journey to Italy, where he had been crowned.

Soldiers and sailors were burning with impatience to embark for England,

but the moment so ardently desired was still delayed. Every evening they

said to themselves, "Tomorrow there will be a good wind, there will also

be a fog, and we shall start," and lay down with that hope, but arose

each day to find either an unclouded sky or rain.

One evening, however, when a favorable wind was blowing, I heard two

sailors conversing together on the wharf, and making conjectures as to

the future. "The Emperor would do well to start tomorrow morning," said

one; "he will never have better weather, and there will surely be a fog."

--"Bah!" said the other, "only he does not think so. We have now waited

more than fifteen days, and the fleet has not budged; however, all the

ammunition is on board, and with one blast of the whistle we can put to

sea."

The night sentinels came on, and the conversation of the old sea-wolves

stopped there; but I soon had to acknowledge that their nautical

experience had not deceived them. In fact, by three o'clock in the

morning, a light fog was spread over the sea, which was somewhat stormy,

the wind of the evening before began to, blow again, and at daylight the

fog was so thick as to conceal the fleet from the English, while the most

profound silence reigned everywhere. No hostile sails had been signaled

through the night, and, as the sailors had predicted, everything favored

the descent.

At five o'clock in the morning, signals were made from the semaphore; and

in the twinkling of an eye all the sailors were in motion, and the port

resounded with cries of joy, for the order to depart had just been

received. While the sails were being hoisted, the long roll was beaten

in the four camps, and the order was given for the entire army to take

arms; and they marched rapidly into the town, hardly believing what they

had just heard. "We are really going to start," said all the soldiers;

"we are actually going to say a few words to those Englishmen," and the

joy which animated them burst forth in acclamations, which were silenced

by a roll of the drums. The embarkation then took place amid profound

silence, and in such perfect order that I can hardly give an idea of it.

At seven o'clock two hundred thousand soldiers were on board the fleet;

and when a little after midday this fine army was on the point of

starting amidst the adieus and good wishes of the whole city, assembled

upon the walls and upon the surrounding cliffs, and at the very moment

when all the soldiers standing with uncovered heads were about to bid

farewell to the soil of France, crying, "Vive l'Empereur!" a message

arrived from the imperial barrack, ordering the troops to disembark, and

return to camp. A telegraphic dispatch just then received by his Majesty

had made it necessary that he should move his troops in another

direction; and the soldiers returned sadly to their quarters, some

expressing in a loud tone, and in a very energetic manner, the

disappointment which this species of mystification caused them.

They had always regarded the success of the enterprise against England as

assured, and to find themselves stopped on the eve of departure was, in

their eyes, the greatest misfortune which could happen to them.

When order had again been restored, the Emperor repaired to the camp of

the right wing, and made a proclamation to the troops, which was sent

into the other camps, and posted everywhere. This was very nearly the

tenor of it: "Brave soldiers of the camp of Boulogne! you will not go to

England. English gold has seduced the Emperor of Austria, who has just

declared war against France. His army has passed the line which he

should have respected, and Bavaria is invaded. Soldiers! new laurels

await you beyond the Rhine. Let us hasten to defeat once more enemies

whom you have already conquered." This proclamation called forth

unanimous acclamations of joy, and every face brightened, for it mattered

little to these intrepid men whether they were to be led against Austria

or England; they simply thirsted for the fray, and now that war had been

declared, every desire was gratified.

Thus vanished all those grand projects of descent upon England, which had

been so long matured, so wisely planned. There is no doubt now that with

favorable weather and perseverance the enterprise would have been crowned

with the greatest success; but this was not to be.

A few regiments remained at Boulogne; and while their brethren crushed

the Austrians, they erected upon the seashore a column destined to recall

for all time the memory of Napoleon and his immortal army.

Immediately after the proclamation of which I have just spoken, his

Majesty gave orders that all should prepare for immediate departure; and

the grand marshal of the palace was charged to audit and pay all the

expenses which the Emperor had made, or which he had ordered to be made,

during his several visits, not without cautioning him, according to

custom, to be careful not to pay for too much of anything, nor too high a

price. I believe that I have already stated that the Emperor was

extremely economical in everything which concerned him personally, and

that he was afraid of spending twenty francs unless for some directly

useful purpose. Among many other accounts to be audited, the grand

marshal of the palace received that of Sordi, engineer of military roads,

whom he had ordered to decorate his Majesty's barrack, both inside and

out. The account amounted to fifty thousand francs. The grand marshal

exclaimed aloud at this frightful sum. He was not willing to approve the

account of Sordi, and sent it back to him, saying that he could not

authorize the payment without first receiving the orders of the Emperor.

The engineer assured the grand marshal that he had overcharged nothing,

and that he had closely followed his instructions, and added, that being

the case, it was impossible for him to make the slightest reduction. The

next day Sordi received instructions to attend his Majesty. The Emperor

was in his barrack, which was the subject under discussion, and spread

out before him was, not the account of the engineer, but a map, upon

which he was tracing the intended march of his army. Sordi came, and was

admitted by General Caffarelli. The half-open door permitted the

general, as well as myself, to hear the conversation which followed.

"Monsieur," said his Majesty, "you have spent far too much money in

decorating this miserable barrack. Yes; certainly far too much. Fifty

thousand francs! Just think of it, monsieur! That is frightful; I will

not pay you!" The engineer, silenced by this abrupt entrance upon

business, did not at first know how to reply. Happily the Emperor, again

casting his eyes on the map which lay unrolled before him, gave him time

to recover himself; and he replied, "Sire, the golden clouds which

ornament this ceiling" (for all this took place in the council-chamber),

"and which surround the guardian star of your Majesty, cost twenty

thousand francs in truth; but if I had consulted the hearts of your

subjects, the imperial eagle which is again about to strike with a

thunderbolt the enemies of France and of your throne, would have spread

its wings amid the rarest diamonds."--"That is very good," replied the

Emperor, laughing, "very good; but I will not have you paid at present,

and since you tell me that this eagle which costs so dear will strike the

Austrians with a thunderbolt, wait until he has done so, and I will then

pay your account in rix dollars of the Emperor of Germany, and the gold

frederics of the King of Prussia." His Majesty, resuming his compass,

began to move his armies upon the map; and truth to tell, the account of

the engineer was not paid until after the battle of Austerlitz, and then,

as the Emperor had said, in rix dollars and frederics.