During our stay at Bayonne, in 1808, every one was struck with the

awkward manners of the King and Queen of Spain, and the poor taste

displayed in their toilets, the disgraceful appearance of their

equipages, and a certain air of constraint and embarrassment which was

general among all the persons of their suite. The elegant manners of the

French and the magnificence of the imperial equipages furnished such a

contrast to all this that it rendered them indescribably ridiculous. The

Emperor, who had such exquisite tact in all matters, was not one of the

last to perceive this, but, nevertheless, was not pleased that an

opportunity should be found to ridicule crowned heads. One morning at

his toilet he said to me, "I say, then, Monsieur le drole, you, who are

so well versed in these matters, give a few hints to the valet de chambre

of the King and Queen of Spain. They appear so awkward they really

excite my pity." I eagerly did what his Majesty suggested; but he did

not content himself with this, but also communicated to the Empress

Josephine his observations on the queen and her ladies. The Empress

Josephine, who was the embodiment of taste, gave orders accordingly; and

for two days her hairdressers and women were occupied exclusively in

giving lessons in taste and elegance to their Spanish brethren. This is

a striking evidence of how the Emperor found time for everything, and

could descend from his elevated duties to the most insignificant affairs.

The grand marshal of the palace (Duroc) was almost the same height as the

Emperor. He walked badly and ungracefully, but had a tolerably good head

and features. He was quick tempered, impulsive, and swore like a

soldier; but he had much administrative ability, of which he gave more

than one proof in the organization of the imperial household, which was

ably and wisely regulated. When the enemy's cannon deprived his Majesty

of this devoted servitor and sincere friend, the Empress Josephine said

that she knew only two men capable of filling his place; these were

General Drouot and M. de Flahaut, and the whole household hoped that one

of these two gentlemen would be nominated; this, however, was not the

case.

M. de Caulaincourt, Duke of Vicenza, was extremely severe towards the

household; but he was just and of a chivalrous loyalty, and his word was

as good as a contract: He was feared and yet beloved. He had a piercing

eye, spoke quickly and with great ease. The Emperor's regard for him was

well known, and certainly no one was more worthy of it than he.

The Count de Remusat was of medium height, with a smooth, white face,

obliging, amiable, and with natural politeness and good taste; but he was

extravagant, lacked order in managing his own affairs and consequently

those of the Emperor. This lavish expenditure, which is admirable from

one point of view, might have suited any other sovereign; but the Emperor

was economical, and though, much attached to M. de Remusat, dismissed him

from the head of the wardrobe bureau, and put in his place Monsieur de

Turenne, who exercised the strictest economy. M. de Turenne possessed

perhaps a little too much of what his predecessor lacked, but it was

exactly this that pleased the Emperor. M. de Turenne was quite a pretty

man, thinking perhaps a little too much of himself, a great talker and

Anglo-maniac, which led the Emperor to give him the name of my lord

Kinsester (who cannot be silent); but he told a story well, and sometimes

his Majesty took pleasure in making him relate the chronicles of Paris.

When the Count of Turenne replaced the Count of Remusat in the office of

grand master of the wardrobe, in order not to exceed the sum of twenty

thousand francs which his Majesty allowed for his toilet, he exercised

the greatest possible economy in the quantity, price, and quality of

things indispensable to the household. I have been told, but I do not

know whether it is true, that, in order to ascertain exactly what were

the profits of the Emperor's furnishers, he went to the various factories

of Paris with samples of gloves, silk stockings, aloes wood, etc.; but,

even if this is true, it only does honor to the zeal and probity of M. de

Turenne.

I knew very little of Count Segur, grand master of ceremonies. It was

said in the household that he was haughty and somewhat abrupt, but

perfectly polite and intelligent, with a delicate and refined face.

It would be necessary to have witnessed the perfect order which reigned

in the Emperor's household to comprehend it fully. From the time of the

Consulate, General Duroc had brought into the administration of the

interior affairs of the palace that spirit of order and economy which

especially characterized him. But, great as was the Emperor's confidence

in General Duroc, he did not disdain to throw the glance of a master over

things which seemed insignificant, and with which, in general, sovereigns

rarely occupy themselves. Thus, for example, in the beginning of the

Empire there was some little extravagance in certain parts of the palace,

notably at Saint-Cloud, where the aides-de-camp kept open table; but this

was, nevertheless, far from equaling the excessive prodigality of the

ancient regime. Champagne and other wines especially were used in great

quantities, and it was very necessary that the Emperor should establish

regulations as to his cellar. He summoned the chief of the household

service, Soupe Pierrugues, and said to him, "Monsieur, I commit to you

the keys of my imperial cellars; you will there have charge of the wines

of all kinds; some are needed in my palaces of the Tuileries,

Saint-Cloud, Compiegne, Fontainebleau, Marrac, Lacken, and Turin.

Establish a moderate price at all these residences, and you alone will

furnish wines to my household." This arrangement was made, and all

kinds of fraud were impossible, as the deputy of M. Soupe Pierrugues

delivered wines only on a note signed by the controller of the kitchen;

all the bottles not opened were returned, and each evening an account

was given of what had been used for that day.

The service had the same regulations while we were on campaigns. During

the second campaign of Vienna, I recollect that the house deputy of Soupe

Pierrugues was M. Eugene Pierrugues, frank, gay, witty, and much beloved

by us all. An imprudence cost him dear, for in consequence of a

heedlessness natural at his age he had his arm broken. We were then at

Schoenbrunn. Those who have seen this imperial residence know that

splendid avenues extend in front of the palace, leading to the road to

Vienna. As I often took horseback rides through the town, M. Eugene

Pierrugues wished to accompany me one day, and borrowed a horse from one

of the quartermasters of the palace. He was forewarned that the horse

was very fiery; but he paid no attention to that, and immediately put him

into a gallop. I reined mine in, in order not to excite my companion's;

but in spite of this precaution the horse ran away, dashed into the

woods, and broke the arm of his unfortunate and imprudent rider.

M. Eugene Pierrugues was, however, not unhorsed by the blow, and kept his

seat a short while after the injury; but it was very serious, and it was

necessary to carry him back to the palace. I, more than any one else,

was distressed by this frightful accident; and we established a regular

attendance on him, so that one at least could always be with him when our

duties allowed. I have never seen suffering borne with more fortitude;

and it was carried to such a remarkable degree, that, finding his arm

badly set, at the end of a few days he had it again fractured, an

operation which caused him horrible suffering.

My uncle, who was usher of the Emperor's cabinet, related to me an

anecdote which is probably entirely unknown; since everything, as we

shall see, occurred under cover of the most profound mystery. "One

evening," he said to me, "Marshal Duroc gave me in person orders to

extinguish the lights in the saloon in front of his Majesty's cabinet,

and to leave only a few candles lighted. I was surprised at such a novel

order, especially as the grand marshal was not accustomed to give them

thus directly, but, nevertheless, executed it precisely, and waited at my

post. At ten o'clock Marshal Duroc returned, accompanied by a personage

whose features it was impossible to distinguish, as he was entirely

wrapped in a large cloak, his head covered, and his hat pulled down over

his eyes. I withdrew, leaving the two alone, but had hardly left the

saloon when the Emperor entered, and Marshal Duroc also retired, leaving

the stranger alone with his Majesty. From the tone in which the Emperor

spoke it was easy to see that he was greatly irritated. He spoke very

loud; and I heard him say, 'Well, Monsieur, you will never change then.

It is gold you want, always gold. You draw on all foreign banks, and

have no confidence in that of Paris. You have ruined the bank of

Hamburg; you have caused M. Drouet (or Drouaut, for the name was

pronounced very quickly) to lose two millions:

"The Emperor," my uncle continued, "conversed in this strain for a long

while, though the stranger did not reply, or replied in so low a tone

that it was impossible to hear a word; and the scene, which must have

been most trying to the mysterious personage, lasted about twenty

minutes. At last he was permitted to leave, which he did with the same

precautions as on his arrival, and retired from the palace as secretly as

he had come."

Nothing of this scene was known in Paris; and, moreover, neither my uncle

nor I have ever sought to ascertain the name of the person whom the

Emperor overwhelmed with such numerous and severe reproaches.

Whenever circumstances allowed, the Emperor's habits of life were very

regular, his time being almost uniformly divided as follows. Every

morning, at nine o'clock precisely, the Emperor left the imperial

apartments; his exactness in observing hours was carried to an extreme,

and I have sometimes seen him wait two or three moments in order that no

one might be taken by surprise. At nine o'clock his toilet was made for

the whole day. When he had reached the reception-room, the officers on

duty were first admitted, and received his Majesty's orders for their

time of service.

Immediately after this, what was called the grandes entrees took place.

That is to say, personages of high rank were admitted, who had this right

on account of their duties, or by the special favor of the Emperor; and I

can assert that this favor was much envied. It was granted generally to

all the officers of the imperial household, even if they were not on

duty; and every one remained standing, as did the Emperor also. He made

the tour of all the persons present, nearly always addressed a remark or

a question to each one; and it was amusing to see afterwards, during the

whole day, the proud and haughty bearing of those to whom the Emperor had

spoken a little longer than to others. This ceremony usually lasted a

half-hour, and as soon as it was finished the Emperor bowed and each

retired.

At half-past nine the Emperor's breakfast was served, usually on a small

mahogany stand; and this first repast commonly lasted only seven or eight

minutes, though sometimes it was prolonged, and even lasted quite a long

while. This, however, was only on rare occasions, when the Emperor was

in unusually good-humor, and wished to indulge in the pleasure of a

conversation with men of great merit, whom he had known a long while, and

who happened to be present at his breakfast. There he was no longer the

formal Emperor of the levee; he was in a manner the hero of Italy, the

conqueror of Egypt, and above all the member of the Institute. Those who

came most habitually were Messieurs Monge, Berthollet, Costaz

(superintendent of crown buildings), Denon, Corvisart, David, Gerard,

Isabey, Talma, and Fontaine (his first architect). How many noble

thoughts, how many elevated sentiments, found vent in these conversations

which the Emperor was accustomed to open by saying, "Come, Messieurs, I

close the door of my cabinet." This was the signal, and it was truly

miraculous to see his Majesty's aptitude in putting his genius in

communication with these great intellects with such diversities of

talent.

I recall that, during the days preceding the Emperor's coronation, M.

Isabey attended regularly at the Emperor's breakfast, and was present

almost every morning; and strange, too, it did not seem an absurd thing

to see children's toys used to represent the imposing ceremony which was

to exert such a great influence over the destinies of the world. The

intelligent painter of his Majesty's cabinet portraits caused to be

placed on a large table a number of small figures representing all the

personages who were to take part in the ceremony of the coronation; each

had his designated place; and no one was omitted, from the Emperor to the

Pope, and even to the choristers, each being dressed in the costume he

was expected to wear.

These rehearsals took place frequently, and all were eager to consult the

model in order to make no mistake as to the place each was to occupy. On

those days, as may be imagined, the door of the cabinet was closed, and

in consequence the ministers sometimes, waited awhile. Immediately after

the breakfast the Emperor admitted his ministers and director generals;

and these audiences, devoted to the special work of each minister and of

each director, lasted until six o'clock in the evening, with the

exception of those days on which his Majesty occupied himself exclusively

with governmental affairs, and presided over the council of state, or the

ministerial councils.

At the Tuileries and at Saint-Cloud dinner was served at six o'clock; and

the Emperor dined each day alone with the Empress, except on Sunday, when

all the family were admitted to dinner. The Emperor, Empress, and Madame

Mere only were seated in armchairs; all others, whether kings or queens,

having only ordinary chairs. There was only one course before the

dessert. His Majesty usually drank Chambertin wine, but rarely without

water, and hardly more than one bottle. To dine with the Emperor was

rather an honor than a pleasure to those who were admitted; for it was

necessary, to use the common expression, to swallow in post haste, as his

Majesty never remained at table more than fifteen or eighteen minutes.

After his dinner, as after breakfast, the Emperor habitually took a cup

of coffee, which the Empress poured out. Under the Consulate Madame

Bonaparte began this custom, because the General often forgot to take his

coffee; she continued it after she became Empress, and the Empress Marie

Louise retained the same custom.

After dinner the Empress descended to her apartments, where she found

assembled her ladies and the officers on duty; and the Emperor sometimes

accompanied her, but remained only a short while. Such was the customary

routine of life in the palace at the Tuileries on those days when there

was neither the chase in the morning, nor concert nor theater in the

evening; and the life at Saint-Cloud differed little from that at the

Tuileries. Sometimes rides were taken in coaches when the weather

permitted; and on Wednesday, the day set for the council of ministers,

these officials were invariably honored by an invitation to dine with

their Majesties. When there was a hunt at Fontainebleau, Rambouillet, or

Compiegne, the usual routine was omitted; the ladies followed in coaches,

and the whole household dined with the Emperor and Empress under a tent

erected in the forest. It sometimes happened, though rarely, that the

Emperor invited unexpectedly some members of his family to remain to dine

with him; and this recalls an anecdote which should have a place in this

connection. The King of Naples came one day to visit the Emperor, and

being invited to dine, accepted, forgetting that he was in morning dress,

and there was barely time for him to change his costume, and consequently

none to return to the Elysee, which he then inhabited. The king ran

quickly up to my room, and informed me of his embarrassment, which I

instantly relieved, to his great delight. I had at that time a very

handsome wardrobe, almost all the articles of which were then entirely

new; so I gave him a shirt, vest, breeches, stockings, and shoes, and

assisted him to dress, and fortunately everything fitted as if it had

been made especially for him. He showed towards me the same kindness and

affability he always manifested, and thanked me in the most charming

manner. In the evening the King of Naples, after taking leave of the

Emperor, returned to my room to resume his morning dress, and begged me

to come to him next day at the laysee, which I did punctually after

relating to the Emperor all that had occurred, much to his amusement.

On my arrival at the Elysee I was immediately introduced into the king's

apartments, who repeated his thanks in the most gracious manner, and gave

me a pretty Breguet watch.

[Abraham Louis Breguet, the celebrated watchmaker, was born at

Neuchatel, 1747; died 1823. He made numerous improvements in

watches and in nautical and astronomical instruments.]

During our campaigns I sometimes had occasion to render little services

of the same nature to the King of Naples; but the question was not then,

as at Saint-Cloud, one of silk stockings, for more than once on the

bivouac I shared with him a bundle of straw, which I had been fortunate

enough to procure. In such cases I must avow the sacrifice was much

greater on my part than when I had shared my wardrobe with him. The king

was not backward in expressing his gratitude; and I thought it a most

remarkable thing to see a sovereign, whose palace was filled with all

that luxury can invent to add to comfort, and all that art can create

which is splendid and magnificent, only too happy in procuring half of a

bundle of straw on which to rest his head.

I will now give some fresh souvenirs which have just recurred to my mind

concerning the Court theater. At Saint-Cloud, in order to reach the

theater hall, it was necessary to cross the whole length of the Orangery;

and nothing could be more elegant than the manner in which it was

decorated on these occasions. Rows of rare plants were arranged in

tiers, and the whole lighted by lamps; and during the winter the boxes

were hidden by covering them with moss and flowers, which produced a

charming effect under the lights.

The parterre of the theater was usually filled with generals, senators,

and councilors of state; the first boxes were reserved for the princes

and princesses of the imperial family, for foreign princes, marshals,

their wives, and ladies of honor. In the second tier were placed all

persons attached to the Court. Between the acts, ices and refreshments

were served; but the ancient etiquette had been re-established in one

particular, which greatly displeased the actors,--no applause was

allowed; and Talma often told me that the kind of coldness produced by

this silence was very detrimental at certain parts where the actor felt

the need of being enthused. Nevertheless, it sometimes happened that the

Emperor, in testimony of his satisfaction, made a slight signal with his

hand; and then and also at the grandest periods we heard, if not

applause, at least a flattering murmur which the spectators were not

always able to repress.

The chief charm of these brilliant assemblies was the presence of the

Emperor; and consequently an invitation to the theater of Saint-Cloud was

an honor much desired. In the time of the Empress Josephine there were

no representations at the palace in the absence of the Emperor; but when

Marie Louise was alone at Saint-Cloud during the campaign of Dresden, two

representations a week were given, and the whole repertoire of Gretry was

played in succession before her Majesty. At the end of each piece there

was always a little ballet.

The theater of Saint-Cloud was, so to speak, on more than one occasion

the theater of first attempts. For instance, M. Raynouard played there

for the first time the 'Etats de Blois', a work which the Emperor would

not allow to be played in public, and which was not done, in fact, until

after the return of Louis XVIII.

'The Venetians' by M. Amand also made its first appearance on the theater

of Saint-Cloud, or rather of Malmaison. This was not highly considered

at the time; but the infallible judgment the Emperor displayed in his

choice of plays and actors was most remarkable. He generally gave M.

Corvisart the preference in deciding these matters, on which he descanted

with much complacence when his more weighty occupations allowed. He was

usually less severe and more just than Geoffroy; and it is much to be

desired that the criticisms and opinions of the Emperor concerning

authors and actors could have been preserved. They would have been of

much benefit to the progress of art.

In speaking of the retreat from Moscow, I related previously in my

memoirs that I had the good fortune to offer a place in my carriage to

the young Prince of Aremborg, and assisted him in continuing his journey.

I recall another occasion in the life of this prince, when one of my

friends was very useful to him, some particulars of which may not be

without interest.

The Prince of Aremberg, an ordnance officer of the Emperor, had, as we

know, married Mademoiselle Tascher, niece of the Empress Josephine.

Having been sent into Spain, he was there taken by the English, and

afterwards carried a prisoner to England. His captivity was at first

very disagreeable; and he told me himself that he was very unhappy, until

he made the acquaintance of one of my friends, M. Herz, commissary of

war, who possessed a fine mind, was very intelligent, spoke several

languages, and was, like the prince, a prisoner in England. The

acquaintance formed at once between the prince and M. Herz soon became so

intimate that they were constantly together; and thus passed the time as

happily as it can with one far from his native land and deprived of his

liberty.

They were living thus, ameliorating for each other the ennui of

captivity, when M. Herz was exchanged, which was, perhaps, a great

misfortune for him, as we shall afterwards see. At all events, the

prince was deeply distressed at being left alone; but, nevertheless, gave

M. Herz several letters to his family, and at the same time sent his

mother his mustache, which he had mounted in a medallion with a chain.

One day the Princess of Aremberg arrived at Saint-Cloud and demanded a

private audience of the Emperor.

"My son," said she, "demands your Majesty's permission to attempt his

escape from England."--"Madame," said the Emperor, "your request is most

embarrassing! I do not forbid your son, but I can by no means authorize

him."

It was at the time I had the honor of saving the Prince of Aremberg's

life that I learned from him these particulars. As for my poor friend

Herz, his liberty became fatal to him, owing to an inexplicable

succession of events. Having been sent by Marshal Augereau to Stralsund

to perform a secret mission, he died there, suffocated by the fire of a

brass stove in the room in which he slept. His secretary and his servant

nearly fell victims to the same accident; but, more fortunate than he,

their lives were saved. The Prince of Aremberg spoke to me of the death

of M. Herz with real feeling; and it was easy to see that, prince as he

was and allied to the Emperor, he entertained a most sincere friendship

for his companion in captivity.

CHAPTER, XXXI.

MILITARY ANECDOTES.

I have collected under the title of Military Anecdotes some facts which

came to my knowledge while I accompanied the Emperor on his campaigns,

and the authenticity of which I guarantee. I might have scattered them

through my memoirs, and placed them in their proper periods; my not

having done so is not owing to forgetfulness on my part, but because I

thought that these incidents would have an added interest by being

collected together, since in them we see the direct influence of the

Emperor upon his soldiers, and thus can more easily form an exact idea of

the manner in which his Majesty treated them, his consideration for them,

and their attachment to his person.

During the autumn of 1804, between the time of the creation of the empire

and the coronation of the Emperor, his Majesty made several journeys to

the camp of Boulogne; and from this fact rumors arose that the expedition

against England would soon set sail. In one of his frequent tours of

inspection, the Emperor, stopping one day near the end of the camp on the

left, spoke to a cannoneer from a guard ship, and while conversing with

him, asked him several questions, among others, the following, "What is

thought here of the Emperor?"--"That 'sacre tondu' puts us out of breath

as soon as he arrives. Each time he comes we have not a moment's repose

while he is here. It might be thought he was enraged against those dogs

of English who are always beating us, not much to our own credit."

"You believe in glory, then?" said the Emperor. The cannoneer then

looked at him fixedly: "Somewhat, I think. Do you doubt it?"--"No, I do

not doubt it, but money, do you believe in that also?"--"Ah! what--I see

--do you mean to insult me, you questioner? I know no other interest

than that of the state."--"No, no, my brave soldier; I do not intend to

insult you, but I bet that a twenty-franc piece would not be disagreeable

to you in drinking a cup to my health." While speaking thus the Emperor

had drawn a Napoleon from his pocket, which he presented to the

cannoneer, whereupon the latter uttered a shout loud enough to be heard

by the sentinel at the west post some distance off; and even threw

himself on the Emperor, whom he took for a spy, and was about to seize

him by the throat when the Emperor suddenly opened his gray overcoat and

revealed his identity. The soldier's astonishment may be imagined! He

prostrated himself at the feet of the Emperor, overcome with confusion at

his mistake; but the latter, extending his hand, said, "Rise, my brave

fellow, you have done your duty; but you will not keep your word, I am

very sure; you will accept this piece, and drink to the health of the

'sacre tondo', will you not?" The Emperor then continued his rounds as

if nothing had occurred.

Every one admits to-day that never, perhaps, has any man been gifted to

the same degree as the Emperor with the art of addressing soldiers. He

appreciated this talent highly in others; but it was not fine phrases

which pleased him, and accordingly he held that a master-piece of this

kind was the very short harangue of General Vandamme to the soldiers he

commanded the day of the battle of Austerlitz. When day began to break

General Vandamme said to the troops, "My brave fellows! There are the

Russians! Load your pieces, pick your flints, put powder in the pan, fix

bayonets, ready and--forward!" I remember one day the Emperor spoke of

this oration before Marshal Berthier, who laughed at it. "That is like

you," he said. "Well, all the advocates of Paris would not have said it

so well; the soldier understands this, and that is the way battles are

won."

When after the first campaign of Vienna, so happily terminated by the

peace of Presburg, the Emperor was returning to Paris, many complaints

reached him against the exactions of certain generals, notably General

Vandamme. Complaint was made, amongst other grievances, that in the

little village of Lantza this general had allowed himself five hundred

florins per day, that is to say, eleven hundred and twenty-five francs,

simply for the daily expenses of his table. It was on this occasion the

Emperor said of him: "Pillages like a madman, but brave as Caesar."

Nevertheless, the Emperor, indignant at such exactions, and determined to

put an end to them, summoned the general to Paris to reprimand him; but

the latter, as soon as he entered the Emperor's presence, began to speak

before his Majesty had time to address him, saying, "Sire, I know why you

have summoned me; but as you know my devotion and my bravery I trust you

will excuse some slight altercations as to the furnishing of my table,

matters too petty, at any rate, to occupy your Majesty." The Emperor

smiled at the oratorical skillfulness of General Vandamme, and contented

himself with saying, "Well, well! say no more, but be more circumspect

in future."

General Vandamme, happy to have escaped with so gentle an admonition,

returned to Lantza to resume his command. He was indeed more circumspect

than in the past; but he found and seized the occasion to revenge himself

on the town for the compulsory self-denial the Emperor had imposed on

him. On his arrival he found in the suburbs a large number of recruits

who had come from Paris in his absence; and it occurred to him to make

them all enter the town, alleging that it was indispensable they should

be drilled under his own eyes. This was an enormous expense to the town,

which would have been very willing to recall its complaints, and continue

his expenses at the rate of five hundred florins per day.

The Emperor does not figure in the following anecdote. I will relate it,

however, as a good instance of the manners and the astuteness of our

soldiers on the campaign.

During the year 1806, a part of our troops having their quarters in

Bavaria, a soldier of the fourth regiment of the line, named Varengo, was

lodged at Indersdorff with a joiner. Varengo wished to compel his host

to pay him two florins, or four livres ten sous, per day for his

pleasures. He had no right to exact this. To succeed in making it to

his interest to comply he set himself to make a continual racket in the

house. The poor carpenter, not being able to endure it longer, resolved

to complain, but thought it prudent not to carry his complaints to the

officers of the company in which Varengo served. He knew by his own

experience, at least by that of his neighbors, that these gentlemen were

by no means accessible to complaints of this kind. He decided to address

himself to the general commanding, and set out on the road to Augsburg,

the chief place of the arrondissement.

On his arrival at the bureau of the town, he was met by the general, and

began to submit to him an account of his misfortunes; but unfortunately

the general did not know the German language, so he sent for his

interpreter, told the carpenter to explain himself, and inquired of what

he complained. Now, the general's interpreting secretary was a

quartermaster who had been attached to the general's staff since the

Peace of Presburg, and happened to be, as luck would have it, the first

cousin of this Varengo against whom the complaint was made. Without

hesitation the quartermaster, as soon as he heard his cousin's name, gave

an entirely incorrect translation of the report, assuring the general

that this peasant, although in very comfortable circumstances, disobeyed

the order of the day, in refusing to furnish fresh meat for the brave

soldier who lodged with him; and this was the origin of the disagreement

on which the complaint was based, no other motive being alleged for

demanding a change. The general was much irritated, and gave orders to

his secretary to require the peasant, under severe penalties, to furnish

fresh meat for his guest. The order was written; but instead of

submitting it to the supervision of the general, the interpreting

secretary wrote out at length that the carpenter should pay two florins

per day to Varengo. The poor fellow, having read this in German, could

not restrain a movement of anger, seeing which, the general, thinking he

had resisted the order, ordered him out, threatening him with his

riding-whip. Thus, thanks to his cousin, the interpreter, Varengo

regularly received two florins per day, which enabled him to be one of

the jolliest soldiers in his company.

The Emperor did not like duelling. He often pretended to be ignorant of

duels; but when he had to admit his knowledge of one, loudly expressed

his dissatisfaction. I recall in this connection two or three

circumstances which I shall attempt to relate.

A short time after the foundation of the Empire, a duel occurred, which

created much stir in Paris, on account of the rank of the two

adversaries. The Emperor had just authorized the formation of the

first foreign regiment which he wished to admit into the service of

France,--the regiment of Aremberg. Notwithstanding the title of this

corps, most of the officers who were admitted were French; and this was

a good opening, discreetly made, for rich and titled young men, who, in

purchasing companies by the authority of the minister of war, could thus

pass more rapidly through the first grades. Among the officers of the

Aremberg regiment, were M. Charles de Sainte-Croix, who had recently

served in the ministry of foreign affairs, and a charming young man whom

I saw often at Malmaison, M. de Mariolles, who was nearly related to the

Empress Josephine. It seems that the same position had been promised

both, and they resolved to settle the dispute by private combat. M. de

Mariolles fell, and died on the spot, and his death created

consternation among the ladies of the salon at Malmaison.

His family and relations united in making complaint to the Emperor, who

was very indignant, and spoke of sending M. de Sainte-Croix to the Temple

prison and having him tried for murder. He prudently concealed himself

during the first outburst over this affair; and the police, who were put

on his track, would have had much difficulty in finding him, as he was

especially protected by M. Fouche, who had recently re-entered the

ministry, and was intimately connected with his mother, Madame de

Sainte-Croix. Everything ended with the threats of his Majesty; since

M. Fouche had remarked to him that by such unaccustomed severity the

malevolent would not fail to say that he was performing less an act of

sovereignty than one of personal vengeance, as the victim had the honor

of being connected with himself.

The affair was thus suffered to drop; and I am here struck with the

manner in which one recollection leads on to another, for I remember that

in process of time the Emperor became much attached to M. de

Sainte-Croix, whose advancement in the army was both brilliant and

rapid; since, although he entered the service when twenty-two years of

age, he was only twenty-eight when he was killed in Spain, being already

then general of division. I often saw M. de Sainte-Croix at the

Emperor's headquarters. I think I see him still, small, delicate, with

an attractive countenance, and very little beard. He might have been

taken for a young woman, rather than the brave young soldier he was;

and, in fact, his features were so delicate, his cheeks so rosy, his

blond hair curled in such natural ringlets, that when the Emperor was in

a good humor he called him nothing but Mademoiselle de Sainte-Croix!

Another circumstance which I should not omit is a duel which took place

at Burgos, in 1808, between General Franceschi, aide-de-camp to King

Joseph, and Colonel Filangieri, colonel of his guard, both of whom were

equerries of his Majesty. The subject of the quarrel was almost the same

as that between M. de Mariolles and de Sainte-Croix; since both disputed

for the position of first equerry to King Joseph, both maintaining that

it had been promised them.

We had hardly been in the palace of Burgos five minutes when the Emperor

was informed of this duel, which had taken place almost under the walls

of the palace itself, and only a few hours before. The Emperor learned

at the same time that General Franceschi had been killed, and on account

of the difference in their rank, in order not to compromise military

etiquette, they had fought in their uniforms of equerry. The Emperor was

struck with the fact that the first news he received was bad news; and

with his ideas of fatality, this really excited a great influence over

him. He gave orders to have Colonel Filangieri found and brought to him,

and he came in a few moments. I did not see him, as I was in another

apartment; but the Emperor spoke to him in so loud and sharp a tone that

I heard distinctly all he said. "Duels! duels! always duels!" cried

the Emperor. "I will not allow it. I will punish it! You know how I

abhor them!"--"Sire, have me tried if you will, but hear me."--"What can

you have to say to me, you crater of Vesuvius? I have already pardoned

your affair with Saint Simon; I will not do the like again. Moreover, I

cannot, at the very beginning of the campaign, when all should be

thoroughly united! It produces a most unfortunate effect!" Here the

Emperor kept silence a moment; then he resumed, although in a somewhat

sharper tone: "Yes! you have a head of Vesuvius. See what a fine

condition of affairs I arrive and find blood in my palace!" After

another pause, and in a somewhat calmer tone: "See what you have done!

Joseph needs good officers; and here you have deprived him of two by a

single blow,--Franceschi, whom you have killed, and yourself, who can no

longer remain in his service." Here the Emperor was silent for some

moments, and then added: "Now retire, leave! Give yourself up as a

prisoner at the citadel of Turin. There await my orders, or rather place

yourself in Murat's hands; he will know what to do with you; he also has

Vesuvius in his head, and he will give you a warm welcome. Now take

yourself off at once."

Colonel Filangieri needed no urging, I think, to hasten the execution of

the Emperor's orders. I do not know the conclusion of thus adventure;

but I do know that the affair affected his Majesty deeply, for that

evening when I was undressing him he repeated several times, "Duels!

What a disgraceful thing! It is the kind of courage cannibals have!"

If, moreover; the Emperor's anger was softened on this occasion, it was

on account of his affection for young Filangieri; at first on account of

his father, whom the Emperor highly esteemed, and also, because the young

man having been educated at his expense, at the French Prytanee, he

regarded him as one of his children by adoption, especially since he knew

that M. Filangieri, godson of the queen of Naples, had refused a

regiment, which the latter had offered him while he was still only a

simple lieutenant in the Consular Guard, and further, because he had not

consented to become a Neapolitan again until a French prince had been

called to the throne of Naples.

What remains to be said on the subject of duels under the Empire, and the

Emperor's conduct regarding them which came to my knowledge, somewhat

resembles the little piece which is played on the theater after a

tragedy. I will now relate how it happened that the Emperor himself

played the role of peacemaker between two sub-officers who were enamored

of the same beauty.

When the French army occupied Vienna, some time after the battle of

Austerlitz, two sub-officers belonging to the forty-sixth and fiftieth

regiments of the line, having had a dispute, determined to fight a duel,

and chose for the place of combat a spot situated at the extremity of a

plain which adjoined the palace of Schoenbrunn, the Emperor's place of

residence. Our two champions had already unsheathed and exchanged blows

with their short swords, which happily each had warded off, when the

Emperor happened to pass near them, accompanied by several generals.

Their stupefaction at the sight of the Emperor may be imagined. Their

arms fell, so to speak; from their hands.

The Emperor inquired the cause of their quarrel, and learned that a woman

who granted her favors to both was the real motive, each of them desiring

to have no rival.

These two champions found by chance that they were known to one of the

generals who accompanied his Majesty, and informed him that they were two

brave soldiers of Marengo and Austerlitz, belonging to such and such

regiments, whose names had already been put on the list for the Cross of

Honor; whereupon the Emperor addressed them after this style: "My

children, woman is capricious, as fortune is also; and since you are

soldiers of Marengo and Austerlitz, you need to give no new proofs of

your courage. Return to your corps, and be friends henceforth, like good

knights." These two soldiers lost all desire to fight, and soon

perceived that their august peacemaker had not forgotten them, as they

promptly received the Cross of the Legion of Honor.

In the beginning of the campaign of Tilsit, the Emperor, being at Berlin,

one day took a fancy to make an excursion on foot to the quarter where

our soldiers in the public houses indulged in the pleasures of the dance.

He saw a quartermaster of the cavalry of his guard walking with a coarse,

rotund German woman, and amused himself listening to the gallant remarks

made by this quartermaster to his beautiful companion. "Let us enjoy

ourselves, my dear," said he; "it is the 'tondu' who pays the musicians

with the 'kriches' of your sovereign. Let us take our own gait; long

live joy! and forward"--"Not so fast," said the Emperor, approaching

him. "Certainly it must always be forward, but wait till I sound the

charge." The quartermaster turned and recognized the Emperor, and,

without being at all disconcerted, put his hand to his shako, and said,

"That is useless trouble. Your Majesty does not need to beat a drum to

make us move." This repartee made the Emperor smile, and soon after

gained epaulets for the sub-officer, who perhaps might have waited a long

while except for this fancy of his Majesty. But, at all events, if

chance sometimes contributed thus to the giving of rewards, they were

never given until after he had ascertained that those on whom he bestowed

them were worthy.

At Eylau provisions failed; for a week, the bread supply being exhausted,

the soldiers fed themselves as they could. The evening before the first

attack, the Emperor, who wished to examine everything himself, made a

tour of the bivouacs, and reaching one where all the men were asleep, saw

some potatoes cooking, took a fancy to eat them, and undertook to draw

them out of the fire with the point of his sword. Instantly a soldier

awoke, and seeing some one usurping part of his supper, "I say, you are

not very ceremonious, eating our potatoes!"--"My comrade, I am so hungry

that you must excuse me."--"Well, take one or two then, if that is the

case; but get off." But as the Emperor made no haste in getting off, the

soldier insisted more strongly, and soon a heated discussion arose

between him and the Emperor. From words they were about to come to

blows, when the Emperor thought it was time to make himself known. The

soldier's confusion was indescribable. He had almost struck the Emperor.

He threw himself at his Majesty's feet, begging his pardon, which was

most readily granted. "It was I who was in the wrong," said the Emperor;

"I was obstinate. I bear you no illwill; rise and let your mind be at

rest, both now and in the future."

The Emperor, having made inquiries concerning this soldier, learned that

he was a good fellow, and not unintelligent. On the next promotion he

was made sub-lieutenant. It is impossible to give an idea of the effect

of such occurrences on the army. They were a constant subject of

conversation with the soldiers, and stimulated them inexpressibly. The

one who enjoyed the greatest distinction in his company was he of whom it

could be said: "The Emperor has spoken to him."

At the battle of Essling the brave General Daleim, commanding a division

of the fourth corps, found himself during the hottest part of the action

at a spot swept by the enemy's artillery. The Emperor, passing near him,

said: "It is warm in your locality!"--"Yes, Sire; permit me to extinguish

the fire."--"Go." This one word sufficed; in the twinkling of an eye the

terrible battery was taken. In the evening the Emperor, seeing General

Daleim, approached him, and said, "It seems you only had to blow on it."

His Majesty alluded General Daleim's habit of incessant whistling.

Among the brave general officers around the Emperor, a few were not

highly educated, though their other fine qualities recommended them; some

were celebrated for other reasons than their military merit. Thus

General Junot and General Fournier were known as the best pistol shots;

General Lasellette was famous for his love of music, which he indulged to

such an extent as to have a piano always in one of his baggage wagons.

This general drank only water; but, on the contrary, it was very

different with General Bisson. Who has not heard of the hardest drinker

in all the army? One day the Emperor, meeting him at Berlin, said to

him, "Well, Bisson, do you still drink much?"--"Moderately, Sire; not

more than twenty-five bottles." This was, in fact, a great improvement,

for he had more than once reached the number of forty without being made

tipsy. Moreover, with General Bisson it was not a vice, but an imperious

need. The Emperor knowing this, and being much attached to him, allowed

him a pension of twelve thousand francs out of his privy purse, and gave

him besides frequent presents.

Among the officers who were not very well educated, we may be permitted

to mention General Gros; and the manner in which he was promoted to the

grade of general proves this fact. But his bravery was equal to every

proof, and he was a superb specimen of masculine beauty. The pen alone

was an unaccustomed weapon to him, and he could hardly use it to sign his

name; and it was said that he was not much more proficient in reading.

Being colonel of the guard, he found himself one day alone at the

Tuileries in an apartment where he waited until the Emperor could be

seen. There he delighted himself with observing his image reflected in

the glass, and readjusting his cravat; and the admiration he felt at his

own image led him to converse aloud with himself or rather with his

reflection. "Ah!" said he, "if you only knew 'bachebachiques'

(mathematics), such a man as you, with a soldier's heart like yours, ah!

the Emperor would make you a general!"--"You are one," said the Emperor,

striking him on the shoulder. His Majesty had entered the saloon without

being heard, and had amused himself with listening to the conversation

Colonel Gros had carried on with himself. Such were the circumstances of

his promotion to the rank of general, and what is more to be a general in

the guard.

I have now arrived at the end of my list of military anecdotes. I have

just spoken of a general's promotion, and will close with the story of a

simple drummer, but a drummer renowned throughout the army as a perfect

buffoon, in fact, the famous Rata, to whom General Gros, as we shall see;

was deeply attached.

The army marched on Lintz during the campaign of 1809. Rata, drummer of

the grenadiers of the fourth regiment of the line, and famous as a

buffoon, having learned that the guard was to pass, and that it was

commanded by General Gros; desired to see this officer who had been his

chief of battalion, and with whom he had formerly taken all sorts of

liberties. Rata thereupon waged his mustache, and went to salute the

general, addressing him thus: "Ah, here you are, General. How are you?"

--"Very well, indeed, Rata; and you?"--"Always well, but not so well as

you, it seems to me. Since you are doing so very well, you no longer

think of poor Rata; for if he did not come to see you, you would not even

think of sending him a few sous to buy tobacco." While saying, "You do

so well," Rata had quickly seized General Gross hat, and put it on his

head in place of his own. At this moment the Emperor passed, and seeing

a drummer wearing the hat of a general of his guard, he could hardly

believe his eyes. He spurred up his horse, and inquired the cause.

General Gros then said, laughing, and in the frank speech he so often

used even to the Emperor, "It is a brave soldier from my old battalion,

accustomed to play pranks to amuse his comrades. He is a brave fellow,

Sire, and every inch a man, and I recommend him to your Majesty.

Moreover, Sire, he can himself do more than a whole park of artillery.

Come, Rata, give us a broad side, and no quarter." The Emperor listened,

and observed almost stupefied what was passing under his very eyes, when

Rata, in no wise intimidated by the presence of the Emperor, prepared to

execute the general's order; then, sticking his finger in his mouth, he

made a noise like first the whistling and then the bursting of a shell.

The imitation was so perfect that the Emperor was compelled to laugh, and

turning to General Gros, said, "Come, take this man this very evening

into the guard, and remind me of him on the next occasion." In a short

while Rata had the cross, which those who threw real shells at the enemy

often had not; so largely does caprice enter into the destiny of men!

L'ENVOI.

(BY THE EDITOR OF THE FRENCH EDITION OF 1830.)

The life of any one who has played a distinguished part offers many

points of view, the number of which increases in proportion to the

influence he has wielded upon the movement of events. This has been

greater in the case of Napoleon than of any other personage in history.

The product of an era of convulsions, in all of whose changes he took

part, and which he at last closed by subjecting all ideas under a rule,

which at one time promised to be lasting, he, like Catiline, requires a

Sallust; like Charlemagne, an Eginhard; and like Alexander, a Quintus

Curtius. M. de Bourrienne has, indeed, after the manner of Commines,

shown him to us undisguised in his political manipulations and in the

private life of his Court. This is a great step towards a knowledge of

his individuality, but it is not enough. It is in a thorough

acquaintance with his private life that this disillusioned age will find

the secret springs of the drama of his marvelous career. The great men

of former ages were veiled from us by a cloud of prejudice which even the

good sense of Plutarch scarcely penetrated. Our age, more analytical and

freer from illusions, in the great man seeks to find the individual. It

is by this searching test that the present puts aside all illusions, and

that the future will seek to justify its judgments. In the council of

state, the statesman is in his robe, on the battlefield the warrior is

beneath his armor, but in his bedchamber, in his undress, we find the

man.

It has been said that no man is, a hero to his valet. It would give wide

latitude to a witty remark, which has become proverbial, to make it the

epigraph of these memoirs. The valet of a hero by that very fact is

something more than a valet. Amber is only earth, and Bologna stone only

a piece of rock; but the first gives out the perfume of the rose, and the

other flashes the rays of the sun. The character of a witness is

dignified by the solemnity of the scene and the greatness of the actor.

Even before reading the manuscript of M. Constant, we were strongly

persuaded that impressions so unusual and so striking would raise him to

the level of the occasion.

The reader can now judge of this for himself. These are the memoirs of

M. Constant,--autographic memoirs of one still living, who has written

them to preserve his recollections. It is the private history, the

familiar life, the leisure moments, passed in undress, of Napoleon, which

we now present to the public. It is Napoleon taken without a mask,

deprived of his general's sword, the consular purple, the imperial

crown,--Napoleon resting from council and from battle, forgetful of power

and of conquest, Napoleon unbending himself, going to bed, sleeping the

slumber of a common man, as if the world did not hang upon his dreams.

These are striking facts, so natural and of such simplicity, that though

a biased judgment may, perhaps, exaggerate their character, and amplify

their importance, they will furnish to an impartial and reflective mind a

wealth of evidence far superior to the vain speculations of the

imagination or the prejudiced judgments of political parties.

In this light the author of these memoirs is not an author, but simply a

narrator, who has seen more closely and intimately than any one else the

Master of the West, who was for fifteen years his master also; and what

he has written he has seen with his own eyes.

ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS:

Death is only asleep without dreams

Excessive desire to oblige

Rubbings with eau de Cologne, his favorite remedy

There are saber strokes enough for every one

His Majesty did not converse: he spoke

Little gifts preserve friendship

She feared to be distracted from her grief

Act with our allies as if they were afterwards to be our enemies

As was his habit, criticised more than he praised

The friendship of a great man is a gift from the gods

You have given me your long price, now give me your short one

Fear of being suspected of cowardice was beneath them

Like all great amateurs was hard to please

Self-appointed connoisseurs

Trying to alleviate her sorrow by sharing it

You were made to give lessons, not to take them

Age in which one breathes well only after resting

All orders given by his Majesty were short, precise

Living ever in the future

Necessity is ever ready with inventions

Power of thus isolating one's self completely from all the world

A sad sort of consolation that is drawn from reprisals

Borrowing, which uses up the resources of the future

For a retreating enemy it is necessary to make a bridge of gold

Make a bridge of gold, or oppose a wall of brass

Paper money, which is the greatest enemy of social order

Rise and decline of stocks was with him the real thermometer

The more I concede the more they demand

Most charming mistresses and the worst wives

No man is, a hero to his valet

The pear was ripe; but who was to gather it?

MEMOIRS OF THE COURT OF ST. CLOUD

By Stewarton

Being Secret Letters from a Gentleman at Paris to a Nobleman in London

PUBLISHERS' NOTE.

The present work contains particulars of the great Napoleon not to be

found in any other publication, and forms an interesting addition to the

information generally known about him.

The writer of the Letters (whose name is said to have been Stewarton, and

who had been a friend of the Empress Josephine in her happier, if less

brilliant days) gives full accounts of the lives of nearly all Napoleon's

Ministers and Generals, in addition to those of a great number of other

characters, and an insight into the inner life of those who formed

Napoleon's Court.

All sorts and conditions of men are dealt with--adherents who have come

over from the Royalist camp, as well as those who have won their way

upwards as soldiers, as did Napoleon himself. In fact, the work abounds

with anecdotes of Napoleon, Talleyrand, Fouche, and a host of others, and

astounding particulars are given of the mysterious disappearance of those

persons who were unfortunate enough to incur the displeasure of Napoleon.

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

At Cardinal Caprara's

Cardinal Fesch

Episode at Mme. Miot's

Napoleon's Guard

A Grand Dinner

Chaptal

Turreaux

Carrier

Barrere

Cambaceres

Pauline Bonaparte

SECRET COURT MEMOIRS.

THE COURT OF ST. CLOUD.

INTRODUCTORY LETTER.

PARIS, November 10th, 1805.

MY LORD,--The Letters I have written to you were intended for the private

entertainment of a liberal friend, and not for the general perusal of a

severe public. Had I imagined that their contents would have penetrated

beyond your closet or the circle of your intimate acquaintance, several

of the narratives would have been extended, while others would have been

compressed; the anecdotes would have been more numerous, and my own

remarks fewer; some portraits would have been left out, others drawn, and

all better finished. I should then have attempted more frequently to

expose meanness to contempt, and treachery to abhorrence; should have

lashed more severely incorrigible vice, and oftener held out to ridicule

puerile vanity and outrageous ambition. In short, I should then have

studied more to please than to instruct, by addressing myself seldomer to

the reason than to the passions.

I subscribe, nevertheless, to your observation, "that the late long war

and short peace, with the enslaved state of the Press on the Continent,

would occasion a chasm in the most interesting period of modern history,

did not independent and judicious travellers or visitors abroad collect

and forward to Great Britain (the last refuge of freedom) some materials

which, though scanty and insufficient upon the whole, may, in part, rend

the veil of destructive politics, and enable future ages to penetrate

into mysteries which crime in power has interest to render impenetrable

to the just reprobation of honour and of virtue." If, therefore, my

humble labours can preserve loyal subjects from the seduction of

traitors, or warn lawful sovereigns and civilized society of the alarming

conspiracy against them, I shall not think either my time thrown away, or

fear the dangers to which publicity might expose me were I only suspected

here of being an Anglican author. Before the Letters are sent to the

press I trust, however, to your discretion the removal of everything that

might produce a discovery, or indicate the source from which you have

derived your information.

Although it is not usual in private correspondence to quote authorities,

I have sometimes done so; but satisfied, as I hope you are, with my

veracity, I should have thought the frequent productions of any better

pledge than the word of a man of honour an insult to your feelings. I

have, besides, not related a fact that is not recent and well known in

our fashionable and political societies; and of ALL the portraits I have

delineated, the originals not only exist, but are yet occupied in the

present busy scene of the Continent, and figuring either at Courts, in

camps, or in Cabinets.

LETTER I.

PARIS, August, 1805.

MY LORD:--I promised you not to pronounce in haste on persons and events

passing under my eyes; thirty-one months have quickly passed away since I

became an attentive spectator of the extraordinary transactions, and of

the extraordinary characters of the extraordinary Court and Cabinet of

St. Cloud. If my talents to delineate equal my zeal to inquire and my

industry to examine; if I am as able a painter as I have been an

indefatigable observer, you will be satisfied, and with your approbation

at once sanction and reward my labours.

With most Princes, the supple courtier and the fawning favourite have

greater influence than the profound statesman and subtle Minister; and

the determinations of Cabinets are, therefore, frequently prepared in

drawing-rooms, and discussed in the closet. The politician and the

counsellor are frequently applauded or censured for transactions which

the intrigues of antechambers conceived, and which cupidity and favour

gave power to promulgate.

It is very generally imagined, but falsely, that Napoleon Bonaparte

governs, or rather tyrannizes, by himself, according to his own capacity,

caprices, or interest; that all his acts, all his changes, are the sole

consequence of his own exclusive, unprejudiced will, as well as unlimited

authority; that both his greatness and his littleness, his successes and

his crimes, originate entirely with himself; that the fortunate hero who

marched triumphant over the Alps, and the dastardly murderer that

disgraced human nature at Jaffa, because the same person, owed victory to

himself alone, and by himself alone commanded massacre; that the same

genius, unbiased and unsupported, crushed factions, erected a throne, and

reconstructed racks; that the same mind restored and protected

Christianity, and proscribed and assassinated a D'Enghien.

All these contradictions, all these virtues and vices, may be found in

the same person; but Bonaparte, individually or isolated, has no claim to

them. Except on some sudden occasions that call for immediate decision,

no Sovereign rules less by himself than Bonaparte; because no Sovereign

is more surrounded by favourites and counsellors, by needy adventurers

and crafty intriguers.

What Sovereign has more relatives to enrich, or services to recompense;

more evils to repair, more jealousies to dread, more dangers to fear,

more clamours to silence; or stands more in need of information and

advice? Let it be remembered that he, who now governs empires and

nations, ten years ago commanded only a battery; and five years ago was

only a military chieftain. The difference is as immense, indeed, between

the sceptre of a Monarch and the sword of a general, as between the wise

legislator who protects the lives and property of his contemporaries, and

the hireling robber who wades through rivers of blood to obtain plunder

at the expense and misery of generations. The lower classes of all

countries have produced persons who have distinguished themselves as

warriors; but what subject has yet usurped a throne, and by his eminence

and achievements, without infringing on the laws and liberties of his

country, proved himself worthy to reign? Besides, the education which

Bonaparte received was entirely military; and a man (let his innate

abilities be ever so surprising or excellent) who, during the first

thirty years of his life, has made either military or political tactics

or exploits his only study, certainly cannot excel equally in the Cabinet

and in the camp. It would be as foolish to believe, as absurd to expect,

a perfection almost beyond the reach of any man; and of Bonaparte more

than of any one else. A man who, like him, is the continual slave of his

own passions, can neither be a good nor a just, an independent nor

immaculate master.

Among the courtiers who, ever since Bonaparte was made First Consul, have

maintained a great ascendency over him, is the present Grand Marshal of

his Court, the general of division, Duroc. With some parts, but greater

presumption, this young man is destined by his master to occupy the most

confidential places near his person; and to his care are entrusted the

most difficult and secret missions at foreign Courts. When he is absent

from France, the liberty of the Continent is in danger; and when in the

Tuileries, or at St. Cloud, Bonaparte thinks himself always safe.

Gerard Christophe Michel Duroc was born at Ponta-Mousson, in the

department of Meurthe, on the 25th of October, 1772, of poor but honest

parents. His father kept a petty chandler's shop; but by the interest

and generosity of Abbe Duroc, a distant relation, he was so well educated

that, in March, 1792, he became a sub-lieutenant of the artillery. In

1796 he served in Italy, as a captain, under General Andreossy, by whom

he was recommended to General l'Espinasse, then commander of the

artillery of the army of Italy, who made him an aide-de-camp. In that

situation Bonaparte remarked his activity, and was pleased with his

manners, and therefore attached him as an aide-de-camp to himself. Duroc

soon became a favourite with his chief, and, notwithstanding the

intrigues of his rivals, he has continued to be so to this day.

It has been asserted, by his enemies no doubt, that by implicit obedience

to his general's orders, by an unresisting complacency, and by executing,

without hesitation, the most cruel mandates of his superior, he has fixed

himself so firmly in his good opinion that he is irremovable. It has

also been stated that it was Duroc who commanded the drowning and burying

alive of the wounded French soldiers in Italy, in 1797; and that it was

he who inspected their poisoning in Syria, in 1799, where he was wounded

during the siege of St. Jean d' Acre. He was among the few officers whom

Bonaparte selected for his companions when he quitted the army of Egypt,

and landed with him in France in October, 1799.

Hitherto Duroc had only shown himself as a brave soldier and obedient

officer; but after the revolution which made Bonaparte a First Consul, he

entered upon another career. He was then, for the first time, employed

in a diplomatic mission to Berlin, where he so far insinuated himself

into the good graces of their Prussian Majesties that the King admitted

him to the royal table, and on the parade at Potsdam presented him to his

generals and officers as an aide-de-camp 'du plus grand homme que je

connais; whilst the Queen gave him a scarf knitted by her own fair hands.

The fortunate result of Duroc's intrigues in Prussia, in 1799, encouraged

Bonaparte to despatch him, in 1801, to Russia; where Alexander I.

received him with that noble condescension so natural, to this great and

good Prince. He succeeded at St. Petersburg in arranging the political

and commercial difficulties and disagreements between France and Russia;

but his proposal for a defensive alliance was declined.

An anecdote is related of his political campaign in the North, upon the

barren banks of the Neva, which, in causing much entertainment to the

inhabitants of the fertile banks of the Seine, has not a little

displeased the military diplomatist.

Among Talleyrand's female agents sent to cajole Paul I. during the latter

part of his reign, was a Madame Bonoeil, whose real name is De F-----.

When this unfortunate Prince was no more, most of the French male and

female intriguers in Russia thought it necessary to shift their quarters,

and to expect, on the territory of neutral Prussia, farther instructions

from Paris, where and how to proceed. Madame Bonoeil had removed to

Konigsberg. In the second week of May, 1801, when Duroc passed through

that town for St. Petersburg, he visited this lady, according to the

orders of Bonaparte, and obtained from her a list of the names of the

principal persons who were inclined to be serviceable to France, and

might be trusted by him upon the present occasion. By inattention or

mistake she had misspelled the name of one of the most trusty and active

adherents of Bonaparte; and Duroc, therefore, instead of addressing

himself to the Polish Count de S--------lz, went to the Polish Count de

S-----tz. This latter was as much flattered as surprised, upon seeing an

aide-de-camp and envoy of the First Consul of France enter his

apartments, seldom visited before but by usurers, gamesters, and

creditors; and, on hearing the object of this visit, began to think

either the envoy mad or himself dreaming. Understanding, however, that

money would be of little consideration, if the point desired by the First

Consul could be carried, he determined to take advantage of this

fortunate hit, and invited Duroc to sup with him the same evening; when

he promised him he should meet with persons who could do his business,

provided his pecuniary resources were as ample as he had stated.

This Count de S-----tz was one of the most extravagant and profligate

subjects that Russia had acquired by the partition of Poland. After

squandering away his own patrimony, he had ruined his mother and two

sisters, and subsisted now entirely by gambling and borrowing. Among his

associates, in similar circumstances with himself, was a Chevalier de

Gausac, a French adventurer, pretending to be an emigrant from the

vicinity of Toulouse. To him was communicated what had happened in the

morning, and his advice was asked how to act in the evening. It was soon

settled that De Gausac should be transformed into a Russian Count de

W-----, a nephew and confidential secretary of the Chancellor of the same

name; and that one Caumartin, another French adventurer, who taught

fencing at St. Petersburg, should act the part of Prince de M-----, an

aide-de-camp of the Emperor; and that all three together should strip

Duroc, and share the spoil. At the appointed hour Bonaparte's agent

arrived, and was completely the dupe of these adventurers, who plundered

him of twelve hundred thousand livres. Though not many days passed

before he discovered the imposition, prudence prevented him from

denouncing the impostors; and this blunder would have remained a secret

between himself, Bonaparte, and Talleyrand, had not the unusual expenses

of Caumartin excited the suspicion of the Russian Police Minister, who

soon discovered the source from which they had flowed. De Gausac had the

imprudence to return to this capital last spring, and is now shut up in

the Temple, where he probably will be forgotten.

As this loss was more ascribed to the negligence of Madame Bonoeil than

to the mismanagement of Duroc, or his want of penetration, his reception

at the Tuileries, though not so gracious as on his return from Berlin,

nineteen months before, was, however, such as convinced him that if he

had not increased, he had at the same time not lessened, the confidence

of his master; and, indeed, shortly afterwards, Bonaparte created him

first prefect of his palace, and procured him for a wife the only

daughter of a rich Spanish banker. Rumour, however, says that Bonaparte

was not quite disinterested when he commanded and concluded this match,

and that the fortune of Madame Duroc has paid for the expensive supper of

her husband with Count de S-----tz at St. Petersburg.

LETTER II.

PARIS, August, 1805.

MY LORD:--Though the Treaty of Luneville will probably soon be buried in

the rubbish of the Treaty of Amiens, the influence of their parents in

the Cabinet of St. Cloud is as great as ever: I say their parents,

because the crafty ex-Bishop, Talleyrand, foreseeing the short existence

of these bastard diplomatic acts, took care to compliment the innocent

Joseph Bonaparte with a share in the parentage, although they were his

own exclusive offspring.

Joseph Bonaparte, who in 1797, from an attorney's clerk at Ajaccio, in

Corsica, was at once transformed into an Ambassador to the Court of Rome,

had hardly read a treaty, or seen a despatch written, before he was

himself to conclude the one, and to dictate the other. Had he not been

supported by able secretaries, Government would soon have been convinced

that it is as impossible to confer talents as it is easy to give places

to men to whom Nature has refused parts, and on whom a scanty or

neglected education has bestowed no improvements. Deep and reserved,

like a true Italian, but vain and ambitious, like his brothers, under the

character of a statesman, he has only been the political puppet of

Talleyrand. If he has sometimes been applauded upon the stages where he

has been placed, he is also exposed to the hooting and hisses of the

suffering multitude; while the Minister pockets undisturbed all the

entrance-money, and conceals his wickedness and art under the cloak of

Joseph; which protects him besides against the anger and fury of

Napoleon. No negotiation of any consequence is undertaken, no diplomatic

arrangements are under consideration, but Joseph is always consulted, and

Napoleon informed of the consultation. Hence none of Bonaparte's

Ministers have suffered less from his violence and resentment than

Talleyrand, who, in the political department, governs him who governs

France and Italy.

As early as 1800, Talleyrand determined to throw the odium of his own

outrages against the law of nations upon the brother of his master.

Lucien Bonaparte was that year sent Ambassador to Spain, but not sharing

with the Minister the large profits of his appointment, his diplomatic

career was but short. Joseph is as greedy and as ravenous as Lucien, but

not so frank or indiscreet. Whether he knew or not of Talleyrand's

immense gain by the pacification at Luneville in February, 1801, he did

not neglect his own individual interest. The day previous to the

signature of this treaty, he despatched a courier to the rich army

contractor, Collot, acquainting him in secret of the issue of the

negotiation, and ordering him at the same time to purchase six millions

of livres--L 250,000--in the stocks on his account. On Joseph's arrival

at Paris, Collot sent him the State bonds for the sum ordered, together

with a very polite letter; but though he waited on the grand pacificator

several times afterwards, all admittance was refused, until a douceur of

one million of livres--nearly L 42,000--of Collot's private profit opened

the door. In return, during the discussions between France and England

in the summer of 1801, and in the spring of 1802, Collot was continued

Joseph's private agent, and shared with his patron, within twelve months,

a clear gain of thirty-two millions of livres.

Some of the secret articles of the Treaty of Luneville gave Austria,

during the insurrection in Switzerland, in the autumn of 1802, an

opportunity and a right to make representations against the interference

of France; a circumstance which greatly displeased Bonaparte, who

reproached Talleyrand for his want of foresight, and of having been

outwitted by the Cabinet of Vienna. The Minister, on the very next day,

laid before his master the correspondence that had passed between him and

Joseph Bonaparte, during the negotiation concerning these secret

articles, which were found to have been entirely proposed and settled by

Joseph; who had been induced by his secretary and factotum (a creature of

Talleyrand) to adopt sentiments for which that Minister had been paid,

according to report, six hundred thousand livres--L25,000. Several other

tricks have in the same manner been played upon Joseph, who,

notwithstanding, has the modesty to consider himself (much to the

advantage and satisfaction of Talleyrand) the first statesman in Europe,

and the good fortune to be thought so by his brother Napoleon.

When a rupture with England was apprehended, in the spring of 1803,

Talleyrand never signed a despatch that was not previously communicated

to, and approved by Joseph, before its contents were sanctioned by

Napoleon. This precaution chiefly continued him in place when Lord

Whitworth left this capital,--a departure that incensed Napoleon to such

a degree that he entirely forgot the dignity of his rank amidst his

generals, a becoming deportment to the members of the diplomatic corps,

and his duty to his mother and brothers, who all more or less experienced

the effects of his violent passions. He thus accosted Talleyrand, who

purposely arrived late at his circle:

"Well! the English Ambassador is gone; and we must again go to war. Were

my generals as great fools as some of my Ministers, I should despair

indeed of the issue of my contest with these insolent islanders. Many

believe that had I been more ably supported in my Cabinet, I should not

have been under the necessity of taking the field, as a rupture might

have been prevented."

"Such, Citizen First Consul!" answered the trembling and bowing Minister,

"is not the opinion of the Counsellor of State, Citizen Joseph

Bonaparte."

"Well, then," said Napoleon, as recollecting himself, "England wishes for

war, and she shall suffer for it. This shall be a war of extermination,

depend upon it."

The name of Joseph alone moderated Napoleon's fury, and changed its

object. It is with him what the harp of David was with Saul. Talleyrand

knows it, and is no loser by that knowledge. I must, however, in

justice, say that, had Bonaparte followed his Minister's advice, and

suffered himself to be entirely guided by his counsel, all hostilities

with England at that time might have been avoided; her Government would

have been lulled into security by the cession of Malta, and some

commercial regulations, and her future conquest, during a time of peace,

have been attempted upon plans duly organized, that might have ensured

success. He never ceased to repeat, "Citizen First Consul! some few

years longer peace with Great Britain, and the 'Te Deums' of modern

Britons for the conquest and possession of Malta, will be considered by

their children as the funeral hymns of their liberty and independence."

It was upon this memorable occasion of Lord Whitworth's departure, that

Bonaparte is known to have betrayed the most outrageous acts of passion;

he rudely forced his mother from his closet, and forbade his own sisters

to approach his person; he confined Madame Bonaparte for several hours to

her chamber; he dismissed favourite generals; treated with ignominy

members of his Council of State; and towards his physician, secretaries,

and principal attendants, he committed unbecoming and disgraceful marks

of personal outrage. I have heard it affirmed that, though her husband,

when shutting her up in her dressing-room, put the key in his pocket,

Madame Napoleon found means to resent the ungallant behaviour of her

spouse, with the assistance of Madame Remusat.

LETTER III.

PARIS, August, 1805.

MY LORD:--No act of Bonaparte's government has occasioned so many, so

opposite, and so violent debates, among the remnants of revolutionary

factions comprising his Senate and Council of State, as the introduction

and execution of the religious concordat signed with the Pope. Joseph

was here again the ostensible negotiator, though he, on this as well as

on former occasions, concluded nothing that had not been prepared and

digested by Talleyrand.

Bonaparte does not in general pay much attention to the opinions of

others when they do not agree with his own views and interests, or

coincide with his plans of reform or innovation; but having in his public

career professed himself by turns an atheist and an infidel, the

worshipper of Christ and of Mahomet, he could not decently silence those

who, after deserting or denying the God of their forefathers and of their

youth, continued constant and firm in their apostasy. Of those who

deliberated concerning the restoration or exclusion of Christianity, and

the acceptance or rejection of the concordat, Fouche, Francois de Nantz,

Roederer, and Sieges were for the religion of Nature; Volney, Real,

Chaptal, Bourrienne, and Lucien Bonaparte for atheism; and Portalis,

Gregoire, Cambaceres, Lebrun, Talleyrand, Joseph and Napoleon Bonaparte

for Christianity. Besides the sentiments of these confidential

counsellors, upwards of two hundred memoirs, for or against the Christian

religion, were presented to the First Consul by uninvited and volunteer

counsellors,--all differing as much from one another as the members of

his own Privy Council.

Many persons do Madame Bonaparte, the mother, the honour of supposing

that to her assiduous representations is principally owing the recall of

the priests, and the restoration of the altars of Christ. She certainly

is the most devout, or rather the most superstitious of her family, and

of her name; but had not Talleyrand and Portalis previously convinced

Napoleon of the policy of reestablishing a religion which, for fourteen

centuries, had preserved the throne of the Bourbons from the machinations

of republicans and other conspirators against monarchy, it is very

probable that her representations would have been as ineffective as her

piety or her prayers. So long ago as 1796 she implored the mercy of

Napoleon for the Roman Catholics in Italy; and entreated him to spare the

Pope and the papal territory, at the very time that his soldiers were

laying waste and ravaging the legacy of Bologna and of Ravenna, both

incorporated with his new-formed Cisalpine Republic; where one of his

first acts of sovereignty, in the name of the then sovereign people, was

the confiscation of Church lands and the sale of the estates of the

clergy.

Of the prelates who with Joseph Bonaparte signed the concordat, the

Cardinal Gonsalvi and the Bishop Bernier have, by their labours and

intrigues, not a little contributed to the present Church establishment,

in this country; and to them Napoleon is much indebted for the intrusion

of the Bonaparte, dynasty, among the houses of sovereign Princes. The

former, intended from his youth for the Church, sees neither honour in

this world, nor hopes for any blessing in the next, but exclusively from

its bosom and its doctrine. With capacity to figure as a country curate,

he occupies the post of the chief Secretary of State to the Pope; and

though nearly of the same age, but of a much weaker constitution than his

Sovereign, he was ambitious enough to demand Bonaparte's promise of

succeeding to the Papal See, and weak and wicked enough to wish and

expect to survive a benefactor of a calmer mind and better health than

himself. It was he who encouraged Bonaparte to require the presence of

Pius VII. in France, and who persuaded this weak pontiff to undertake a

journey that has caused so much scandal among the truly faithful; and

which, should ever Austria regain its former supremacy in Italy, will

send the present Pope to end his days in a convent, and make the

successors of St. Peter what this Apostle was himself, a Bishop of Rome,

and nothing more.

Bernier was a curate in La Vendee before the Revolution, and one of those

priests who lighted the torch of civil war in that unfortunate country,

under pretence of defending the throne of his King and the altars of his

God. He not only possessed great popularity among the lower classes, but

acquired so far the confidence of the Vendean chiefs that he was

appointed one of the supreme and directing Council of the Royalists and

Chouans. Even so late as the summer of 1799 he continued not only

unsuspected, but trusted by the insurgents in the Western departments. In

the winter, however, of the same year he had been gained over by

Bonaparte's emissaries, and was seen at his levies in the Tuileries. It

is stated that General Brune made him renounce his former principles,

desert his former companions, and betray to the then First Consul of the

French Republic the secrets of the friends of lawful monarchy, of the

faithful subjects of Louis XVIII. His perfidy has been rewarded with one

hundred and fifty thousand livres in ready money, with the see of

Orleans, and with a promise of a cardinal's hat. He has also, with the

Cardinals Gonsalvi, Caprara, Fesch, Cambaceres, and Mauri, Bonaparte's

promise, and, of course, the expectation of the Roman tiara. He was one

of the prelates who officiated at the late coronation, and is now

confided in as a person who has too far committed himself with his

legitimate Prince, and whose past treachery, therefore, answers for his

future fidelity.

This religious concordat of the 10th September, 1801, as well as all

other constitutional codes emating from revolutionary authorities,

proscribes even in protecting. The professors and protectors of the

religion of universal peace, benevolence, and forgiveness banish in this

concordat from France forever the Cardinals Rohan and Montmorency, and

the Bishop of Arras, whose dutiful attachment to their unfortunate Prince

would, in better times and in a more just and generous nation, have been

recompensed with distinctions, and honoured even by magnanimous foes.

When Madame Napoleon was informed by her husband of the necessity of

choosing her almoner and chaplain, and of attending regularly the Mass,

she first fell a-laughing, taking it merely for a joke; the serious and

severe looks, and the harsh and threatening expressions of the First

Consul soon, however, convinced her how much she was mistaken. To evince

her repentance, she on the very next day attended her mother-in-law to

church, who was highly edified by the sudden and religious turn of her

daughter, and did not fail to ascribe to the efficacious interference of

one of her favourite saints this conversion of a profane sinner. But

Napoleon was not the dupe of this church-going mummery of his wife, whom

he ordered his spies to watch; these were unfortunate enough to discover

that she went to the Mass more to fill her appointments with her lovers

than to pray to her Saviour; and that even by the side of her mother she

read billets-doux and love-letters when that pious lady supposed that she

read her prayers, because her eyes were fixed upon her breviary. Without

relating to any one this discovery of his Josephine's frailties,

Napoleon, after a violent connubial fracas and reprimand, and after a

solitary confinement of her for six days, gave immediate orders to have

the chapels of the Tuileries and of St. Cloud repaired; and until these

were ready, Cardinal Cambaceres and Bernier, by turns, said the Mass, in

her private apartments; where none but selected favourites or favoured

courtiers were admitted. Madame Napoleon now never neglects the Mass,

but if not accompanied by her husband is escorted by a guard of honour,

among whom she knows that he has several agents watching her motions and

her very looks.

In the month of June, 1803; I dined with Viscomte de Segur, and Joseph

and Lucien Bonaparte were among the guests. The latter jocosely remarked

with what facility the French Christians had suffered themselves to be

hunted in and out of their temples, according to the fanaticism or policy

of their rulers; which he adduced as a proof of the great progress of

philosophy and toleration in France. A young officer of the party,

Jacquemont, a relation of the former husband of the present Madame

Lucien, observed that he thought it rather an evidence of the

indifference of the French people to all religion; the consequence of the

great havoc the tenets of infidelity and of atheism had made among the

flocks of the faithful. This was again denied by Bonaparte's

aide-de-camp, Savary, who observed that, had this been the case, the

First Consul (who certainly was as well acquainted with the religious

spirit of Frenchmen as anybody else) would not have taken the trouble to

conclude a religious concordat, nor have been at the expense of providing

for the clergy. To this assertion Joseph nodded an assent.

When the dinner was over, De Segur took me to a window, expressing his

uneasiness at what he called the imprudence of Jacquemont, who, he

apprehended, from Joseph's silence and manner, would not escape

punishment for having indirectly blamed both the restorer of religion and

his plenipotentiary. These apprehensions were justified. On the next

day Jacquemont received orders to join the colonial depot at Havre; but

refusing to obey, by giving in his resignation as a captain, he was

arrested, shut up in the Temple, and afterwards transported to Cayenne or

Madagascar. His relatives and friends are still ignorant whether he is

dead or alive, and what is or has been his place of exile. To a petition

presented by Jacquemont's sister, Madame de Veaux, Joseph answered that

"he never interfered with the acts of the haute police of his brother

Napoleon's Government, being well convinced both of its justice and

moderation."

LETTER IV.

PARIS, August, 1805.

MY LORD:--That Bonaparte had, as far back as February, 1803 (when the

King of Prussia proposed to Louis XVIII. the formal renunciation of his

hereditary rights in favour of the First Consul), determined to assume

the rank and title, with the power of a Sovereign, nobody can doubt. Had

it not been for the war with England, he would, in the spring of that

year, or twelve months earlier, have proclaimed himself Emperor of the

French, and probably would have been acknowledged as such by all other

Princes. To a man so vain and so impatient, so accustomed to command and

to intimidate, this suspension of his favourite plan was a considerable

disappointment, and not a little increased his bitter and irreconcilable

hatred of Great Britain.

Here, as well as in foreign countries, the multitude pay homage only to

Napoleon's uninterrupted prosperity; without penetrating or considering

whether it be the consequence of chance or of well-digested plans;

whether he owes his successes to his own merit or to a blind fortune. He

asserted in his speech to the constitutional authorities, immediately

after hostilities had commenced with England, that the war would be of

short duration, and he firmly believed what he said. Had he by his

gunboats, or by his intrigues or threats, been enabled to extort a second

edition of the Peace of Amiens, after a warfare of some few months, all

mouths would have been ready to exclaim, "Oh, the illustrious warrior!

Oh, the profound politician!" Now, after three ineffectual campaigns on

the coast, when the extravagance and ambition of our Government have

extended the contagion of war over the Continent; when both our direct

offers of peace, and the negotiations and mediations of our allies, have

been declined by, or proved unavailing with, the Cabinet of St. James,

the inconsistency, the ignorance, and the littleness of the fortunate

great man seem to be not more remembered than the outrages and

encroachments that have provoked Austria and Russia to take the field.

Should he continue victorious, and be in a position to dictate another

Peace of Luneville, which probably would be followed by another pacific

overture to or from England, mankind will again be ready to call out,

"Oh, the illustrious warrior! Oh, the profound politician! He foresaw,

in his wisdom, that a Continental war was necessary to terrify or to

subdue his maritime foe; that a peace with England could be obtained only

in Germany; and that this war must be excited by extending the power of

France on the other side of the Alps. Hence his coronation as a King of

Italy; hence his incorporation of Parma and Genoa with France; and hence

his donation of Piombino and Lucca to his brother-in-law, Bacchiochi!"

Nowhere in history have I read of men of sense being so easily led astray

as in our times, by confounding fortuitous events with consequences

resulting from preconcerted plans and well-organized designs.

Only rogues can disseminate and fools believe that the disgrace of

Moreau, and the execution of the Duc d'Enghien, of Pichegru, and Georges,

were necessary as footsteps to Bonaparte's Imperial throne; and that

without the treachery of Mehee de la Touche, and the conspiracy he

pretended to have discovered, France would still have been ruled by a

First Consul. It is indeed true, that this plot is to be counted (as the

imbecility of Melas, which lost the battle of Marengo) among those

accidents presenting themselves apropos to serve the favourite of fortune

in his ambitious views; but without it, he would equally have been hailed

an Emperor of the French in May, 1804. When he came from the coast, in

the preceding winter, and was convinced of the impossibility of making

any impression on the British Islands with his flotilla, he convoked his

confidential Senators, who then, with Talleyrand, settled the Senatus

Consultum which appeared five months afterwards. Mehee's correspondence

with Mr. Drake was then known to him; but he and the Minister of Police

were both unacquainted with the residence and arrival of Pichegru and

Georges in France, and of their connection with Moreau; the particulars

of which were first disclosed to them in the February following, when

Bonaparte had been absent from his army of England six weeks. The

assumption of the Imperial dignity procured him another decent

opportunity of offering his olive-branch to those who had caused his

laurels to wither, and by whom, notwithstanding his abuse, calumnies, and

menaces, he would have been more proud to be saluted Emperor than by all

the nations upon the Continent. His vanity, interest, and policy, all

required this last degree of supremacy and elevation at that period.

Bonaparte had so well penetrated the weak side of Moreau's character

that, although he could not avoid doing justice to this general's

military talents and exploits, he neither esteemed him as a citizen nor

dreaded him as a rival. Moreau possessed great popularity; but so did

Dumourier and Pichegru before him: and yet neither of them had found

adherents enough to shake those republican governments with which they

avowed themselves openly discontented, and against which they secretly

plotted. I heard Talleyrand say, at Madame de Montlausier's, in the

presence of fifty persons, "Napoleon Bonaparte had never anything to

apprehend from General Moreau, and from his popularity, even at the head

of an army. Dumourier, too, was at the head of an army when he revolted

against the National Convention; but had he not saved himself by flight

his own troops would have delivered him up to be punished as a traitor.

Moreau, and his popularity, could only be dangerous to the Bonaparte

dynasty were he to survive Napoleon, had not this Emperor wisely averted

this danger." From this official declaration of Napoleon's confidential

Minister, in a society of known anti-imperialists, I draw the conclusion

that Moreau will never more, during the present reign, return to France.

How very feeble, and how badly advised must this general have been, when,

after his condemnation to two years' imprisonment, he accepted a

perpetual exile, and renounced all hopes of ever again entering his own

country. In the Temple, or in any other prison, if he had submitted to

the sentence pronounced against him, he would have caused Bonaparte more

uneasiness than when at liberty, and been more a point of rally to his

adherents and friends than when at his palace of Grosbois, because

compassion and pity must have invigorated and sharpened their feelings.

If report be true, however, he did not voluntarily exchange imprisonment

for exile; racks were shown him; and by the act of banishment was placed

a poisonous draught. This report gains considerable credit when it is

remembered that, immediately after his condemnation, Moreau furnished his

apartments in the Temple in a handsome manner, so as to be lodged well,

if not comfortably, with his wife and child, whom, it is said, he was not

permitted to see before he had accepted Bonaparte's proposal of

transportation.

It may be objected to this supposition that the man in power, who did not

care about the barefaced murder of the Duc d'Enghien, and the secret

destruction of Pichegru, could neither much hesitate, nor be very

conscientious about adding Moreau to the number of his victims. True,

but the assassin in authority is also generally a politician. The

untimely end of the Duc d'Enghien and of Pichegru was certainly lamented

and deplored by the great majority of the French people; but though they

had many who pitied their fate, but few had any relative interest to

avenge it; whilst in the assassination of Moreau, every general, every

officer, and every soldier of his former army, might have read the

destiny reserved for himself by that chieftain, who did not conceal his

preference of those who had fought under him in Italy and Egypt, and his

mistrust and jealousy of those who had vanquished under Moreau in

Germany; numbers of whom had already perished at St. Domingo, or in the

other colonies, or were dispersed in separate and distant garrisons of

the mother country. It has been calculated that of eighty-four generals

who made, under Moreau, the campaign of 1800, and who survived the Peace

of Lundville, sixteen had been killed or died at St. Domingo, four at

Guadeloupe, ten in Cayenne, nine at Ile de France, and eleven at l'Ile

Reunion and in Madagascar. The mortality among the officers and men has

been in proportion.

An anecdote is related of Pichegru, which does honour to the memory of

that unfortunate general. Fouche paid him a visit in prison the day

before his death, and offered him "Bonaparte's commission as a

Field-marshal, and a diploma as a grand officer of the Legion of Honour,

provided he would turn informer against Moreau, of whose treachery

against himself in 1797 he was reminded. On the other hand, he was

informed that, in consequence of his former denials, if he persisted in

his refractory conduct, he should never more appear before any judge, but

that the affairs of State and the safety of the country required that he

should be privately despatched in his gaol."

"So," answered this virtuous and indignant warrior, "you will spare my

life only upon condition that I prove myself unworthy to live. As this

is the case, my choice is made without hesitation; I am prepared to

become your victim, but I will never be numbered among your accomplices.

Call in your executioners; I am ready to die as I have lived, a man of

honour, and an irreproachable citizen."

Within twenty-four hours after this answer, Pichegru was no more.

That the Duc d'Enghien was shot on the night of the 21st of March, 1804,

in the wood or in the ditch of the castle at Vincennes, is admitted even

by Government; but who really were his assassins is still unknown. Some

assert that he was shot by the grenadiers of Bonaparte's Italian guard;

others say, by a detachment of the Gendarmes d'Elite; and others again,

that the men of both these corps refused to fire, and that General Murat,

hearing the troops murmur, and fearing their mutiny, was himself the

executioner of this young and innocent Prince of the House of Bourbon, by

riding up to him and blowing out his brains with a pistol. Certain it is

that Murat was the first, and Louis Bonaparte the second in command, on

this dreadful occasion.

LETTER V.

PARIS, August, 1805.

MY LORD:--Thanks to Talleyrand's political emigration, our Government has

never been in ignorance of the characters and foibles of the leading

members among the emigrants in England. Otto, however, finished their

picture, but added, some new groups to those delineated by his

predecessor. It was according to his plan that the expedition of Mehee

de la Touche was undertaken, and it was in following his instructions

that the campaign of this traitor succeeded so well in Great Britain.

Under the Ministry of Vergennes, of Montmorin, and of Delessart, Mehee

had been employed as a spy in Russia, Sweden, and Poland, and acquitted

himself perfectly to the satisfaction of his masters. By some accident

or other, Delessart discovered, however, in December, 1791, that he had,

while pocketing the money of the Cabinet of Versailles, sold its secrets

to the Cabinet of St. Petersburg. He, of course, was no longer trusted

as a spy, and therefore turned a Jacobin, and announced himself to

Brissot as a persecuted patriot. All the calumnies against this Minister

in Brissot's daily paper, Le Patriote Francois, during January, February,

and March, 1792, were the productions of Mehee's malicious heart and able

pen. Even after they had sent Delessart a State prisoner to Orleans, his

inveteracy continued, and in September the same year he went to

Versailles to enjoy the sight of the murder of his former master. Some

go so far as to say that the assassins were headed by this monster, who

aggravated cruelty by insult, and informed the dying Minister of the

hands that stabbed him, and to whom he was indebted for a premature

death.

To these and other infamous and barbarous deeds, Talleyrand was not a

stranger when he made Mehee his secret agent, and entrusted him with the

mission to England. He took, therefore, such steps that neither his

confidence could be betrayed, nor his money squandered. Mehee had

instructions how to proceed in Great Britain, but he was ignorant of the

object Government had in view by his mission; and though large sums were

promised if successful, and if he gave satisfaction by his zeal and

discretion, the money advanced him was a mere trifle, and barely

sufficient to keep him from want. He was, therefore, really distressed,

when he fixed upon some necessitous and greedy emigrants for his

instruments to play on the credulity of the English Ministers in some of

their unguarded moments. Their generosity in forbearing to avenge upon

the deluded French exiles the slur attempted to be thrown upon their

official capacity, and the ridicule intended to be cast on their private

characters, has been much approved and admired here by all liberal-minded

persons; but it has also much disappointed Bonaparte and Talleyrand, who

expected to see these emigrants driven from the only asylum which

hospitality has not refused to their misfortunes and misery.

Mehee had been promised by Talleyrand double the amount of the sums which

he could swindle from your Government; but though he did more mischief to

your country than was expected in this, and though he proved that he had

pocketed upwards of ten thousand English guineas, the wages of his

infamy, when he hinted about the recompense he expected here, Durant,

Talleyrand's chef du bureau, advised him, as a friend, not to remind the

Minister of his presence in France, as Bonaparte never pardoned a

Septembrizer, and the English guineas he possessed might be claimed and

seized as national property, to compensate some of the sufferers by the

unprovoked war with England. In vain did he address himself to his

fellow labourer in revolutionary plots, the Counsellor of State, Real,

who had been the intermedium between him and Talleyrand, when he was

first enlisted among the secret agents; instead of receiving money he

heard threats; and, therefore, with as good grace as he could, he made

the best of his disappointment; he sported a carriage, kept a mistress,

went to gambling-houses, and is now in a fair way to be reduced to the

status quo before his brilliant exploits in Great Britain.

Real, besides the place of a Counsellor of State, occupies also the

office of a director of the internal police. Having some difference with

my landlord, I was summoned to appear before him at the prefecture of the

police. My friend, M. de Sab-----r, formerly a counsellor of the

Parliament at Rouen, happened to be with me when the summons was

delivered, and offered to accompany me, being acquainted with Real.

Though thirty persons were waiting in the antechamber at our arrival, no

sooner was my friend's name announced than we were admitted, and I

obtained not only more justice than I expected, or dared to claim, but an

invitation to Madame Real's tea-party the same evening. This justice and

this politeness surprised me, until my friend showed me an act of forgery

in his possession, committed by Real in 1788, when an advocate of the

Parliament, and for which the humanity of my friend alone prevented him

from being struck off the rolls, and otherwise punished.

As I conceived my usual societies and coteries could not approve my

attendance at the house of such a personage, I was intent upon sending an

apology to Madame Real. My friend, however, assured me that I should

meet in her salon persons of all classes and of all ranks, and many I

little expected to see associating together. I went late, and found the

assembly very numerous; at the upper part of the hall were seated

Princesses Joseph and Louis Bonaparte, with Madame Fouche, Madame

Roederer, the cidevant Duchesse de Fleury, and Marquise de Clermont. They

were conversing with M. Mathew de Montmorency, the contractor (a

ci-devant lackey) Collot, the ci-devant Duc de Fitz-James, and the

legislator Martin, a ci-devant porter: several groups in the several

apartments were composed of a similar heterogeneous mixture of ci-devant

nobles and ci-devant valets, of ci-devant Princesses, Marchionesses,

Countesses and Baronesses, and of ci-devant chambermaids, mistresses and

poissardes. Round a gambling-table, by the side of the ci-devant Bishop

of Autun, Talleyrand, sat Madame Hounguenin, whose husband, a ci-devant

shoeblack, has, by the purchase of national property, made a fortune of

nine millions of livres--L375,000. Opposite them were seated the

ci-devant Prince de Chalais, and the present Prince Cambaceres with the

ci-devant Comtesse de Beauvais, and Madame Fauve, the daughter of a

fishwoman, and the wife of a tribune, a ci-devant barber. In another

room, the Bavarian Minister Cetto was conferring with the spy Mehee de la

Touche; but observed at a distance by Fouche's secretary, Desmarets, the

son of a tailor at Fontainebleau, and for years a known spy. When I was

just going to retire, the handsome Madame Gillot, and her sister, Madame

de Soubray, joined me. You have perhaps known them in England, where,

before their marriage, they resided for five years with their parents,

the Marquis and Marquise de Courtin; and were often admired by the

loungers in Bond Street. The one married for money, Gillot, a ci-devant

drummer in the French Guard, but who, since the Revolution, has, as a

general; made a large fortune; and the other united herself to a

ci-devant Abbe, from love; but both are now divorced from their husbands,

who passed them without any notice while they were chatting with me. I

was handing Madame Gillot to her carriage, when, from the staircase,

Madame de Soubray called to us not to quit her, as she was pursued by a

man whom she detested, and wished to avoid. We had hardly turned round,

when Mehee offered her his arm, and she exclaimed with indignation, "How

dare you, infamous wretch, approach me, when I have forbidden you ever to

speak to me? Had you been reduced to become a highwayman, or a

housebreaker, I might have pitied your infamy; but a spy is a villain who

aggravates guilt by cowardice and baseness, and can inspire no noble soul

with any other sentiment but abhorrence, and the most sovereign

contempt." Without being disconcerted, Mehee silently returned to the

company, amidst bursts of laughter from fifty servants, and as many

masters, waiting for their carriages. M. de Cetto was among the latter,

but, though we all fixed our eyes steadfastly upon him, no alteration

could be seen on his diplomatic countenance: his face must surely be made

of brass or his heart of marble.

LETTER VI.

PARIS, August, 1805.

MY LORD:--The day on which Madame Napoleon Bonaparte was elected an

Empress of the French, by the constitutional authorities of her husband's

Empire, was, contradictory as it may seem, one of the most uncomfortable

in her life. After the show and ceremony of the audience and of the

drawing-room were over, she passed it entirely in tears, in her library,

where her husband shut her up and confined her.

The discipline of the Court of St. Cloud is as singular as its

composition is unique. It is, by the regulation of Napoleon, entirely

military. From the Empress to her lowest chambermaid, from the Emperor's

first aide-de-camp down to his youngest page, any slight offence or

negligence is punished with confinement, either public or private. In

the former case the culprits are shut up in their own apartments, but in

the latter they are ordered into one of the small rooms, constructed in

the dark galleries at the Tuileries and St. Cloud, near the kitchens,

where they are guarded day and night by sentries, who answer for their

persons, and that nobody visits them.

When, on the 28th of March, 1804, the Senate had determined on offering

Bonaparte the Imperial dignity, he immediately gave his wife full powers,

with order to form her household of persons who, from birth and from

their principles, might be worthy, and could be trusted to encompass the

Imperial couple. She consulted Madame Remusat, who, in her turn,

consulted her friend De Segur, who also consulted his bonne amie, Madame

de Montbrune. This lady determined that if Bonaparte and his wife were

desirous to be served, or waited on, by persons above them by ancestry

and honour, they should pay liberally for such sacrifices. She was not

therefore idle, but wishing to profit herself by the pride of upstart

vanity, she had at first merely reconnoitred the ground, or made distant

overtures to those families of the ancient French nobility who had been

ruined by the Revolution, and whose minds she expected to have found on a

level with their circumstances. These, however, either suspecting her

intent and her views, or preferring honest poverty to degrading and

disgraceful splendour, had started objections which she was not prepared

to encounter. Thus the time passed away; and when, on the 18th of the

following May, the Senate proclaimed Napoleon Bonaparte Emperor of the

French, not a Chamberlain was ready to attend him, nor a Maid of Honour

to wait on his wife.

On the morning of the 20th May, the day fixed for the constitutional

republican authorities to present their homage as subjects, Napoleon

asked his Josephine who were the persons, of both sexes, she had engaged,

according to his carte blanche given her, as necessary and as unavoidable

decorations of the drawing-room of an Emperor and Empress, as thrones and

as canopies of State. She referred him to Madame Remusat, who, though

but half-dressed, was instantly ordered to appear before him. This lady

avowed that his grand master of the ceremonies, De Segur, had been

entrusted by her with the whole arrangement, but that she feared that he

had not yet been able to complete the full establishment of the Imperial

Court. The aide-de-camp Rapp was then despatched after De Segur, who, as

usual, presented himself smiling and cringing.

"Give me the list," said Napoleon, "of the ladies and gentlemen you have

no doubt engaged for our household."

"May it please Your Majesty," answered De Segur, trembling with fear, "I

humbly supposed that they were not requisite before the day of Your

Majesty's coronation."

"You supposed!" retorted Napoleon. "How dare you suppose differently

from our commands? Is the Emperor of the Great Nation not to be

encompassed with a more numerous retinue, or with more lustre, than a

First Consul? Do you not see the immense difference between the

Sovereign Monarch of an Empire, and the citizen chief magistrate of a

commonwealth? Are there not starving nobles in my empire enough to

furnish all the Courts in Europe with attendants, courtiers, and valets?

Do you not believe that with a nod, with a single nod, I might have them

all prostrated before my throne? What can, then, have occasioned this

impertinent delay?"

"Sire!" answered De Segur, "it is not the want of numbers, but the

difficulty of the choice among them. I will never recommend a single

individual upon whom I cannot depend; or who, on some future day, may

expose me to the greatest of all evils, the displeasure of my Prince."

"But," continued Napoleon, "what is to be done to-day that I may augment

the number of my suite, and by it impose upon the gaping multitude and

the attending deputations?"--"Command," said De Segur, "all the officers

of Your Majesty's staff, and of the staff of the Governor of Paris,

General Murat, to surround Your Majesty's sacred person, and order them

to accoutre themselves in the most shining and splendid manner possible.

The presence of so many military men will also, in a political point of

view, be useful. It will lessen the pretensions of the constituted

authorities, by telling them indirectly, 'It is not to your Senatus

Consultum, to your decrees, or to your votes, that I am indebted for my

present Sovereignty; I owe it exclusively to my own merit and valour, and

to the valour of my brave officers and men, to whose arms I trust more

than to your counsels.'"

This advice obtained Napoleon's entire approbation, and was followed. De

Segur was permitted to retire, but when Madame Remusat made a curtsey

also to leave the room, she was stopped with his terrible 'aux arrets'

and left under the care and responsibility of his aide-de-camp, Lebrun,

who saw her safe into her room, at the door of which he placed two

grenadiers. Napoleon then went out, ordering his wife, at her peril, to

be in time, ready and brilliantly dressed, for the drawing-room.

Dreading the consequences of her husband's wrath, Madame Napoleon was not

only punctual, but so elegantly and tastefully decorated with jewels and

ornaments that even those of her enemies or rivals who refused her

beauty, honour, and virtue, allowed her taste and dignity. She thought

that even in the regards of Napoleon she read a tacit approbation. When

all the troublesome bustle of the morning was gone through, and when

Senators, legislators, tribunes, and prefects had complimented her as a

model of female perfection, on a signal from her husband she accompanied

him in silence through six different apartments before he came to her

library, where he surlily ordered her to enter and to remain until

further orders.

"What have I done, Sire! to deserve such treatment?" exclaimed Josephine,

trembling.

"If," answered Napoleon, "Madame Remusat, your favourite, has made a fool

of you, this is only to teach you that you shall not make a fool of me:

Had not De Segur fortunately for him--had the ingenuity to extricate us

from the dilemma into which my confidence and dependence on you had

brought me, I should have made a fine figure indeed on the first day of

my emperorship. Have patience, Madame; you have plenty of books to

divert you, but you must remain where you are until I am inclined to

release you." So saying, Napoleon locked the door and put the key in his

pocket.

It was near two o'clock in the afternoon when she was thus shut up.

Remembering the recent flattery of her courtiers, and comparing it with

the unfeeling treatment of her husband, she found herself so much the

more unfortunate, as the expressions of the former were regarded by her

as praise due to her merit, while the unkindness of the latter was

unavailingly resented as the undeserved oppression of a capricious

despot.

Business, or perhaps malice, made Napoleon forget to send her any dinner;

and when, at eight o'clock, his brothers and sisters came, according to

invitation, to take tea, he said coldly:

"Apropos, I forgot it. My wife has not dined yet; she is busy, I

suppose, in her philosophical meditations in her study."

Madame Louis Bonaparte, her daughter, flew directly towards the study,

and her mother could scarcely, for her tears, inform her that--she was a

prisoner, and that her husband was her gaoler.

"Oh, Sire!" said Madame Louis, returning, "even this remarkable day is a

day of mourning for my poor mother!"

"She deserves worse," answered Napoleon, "but, for your sake, she shall

be released; here is the key, let her out."

Madame Napoleon was, however, not in a situation to wish to appear before

her envious brothers and sisters-in-law. Her eyes were so swollen with

crying that she could hardly see; and her tears had stained those

Imperial robes which the unthinking and inconsiderate no doubt believed a

certain preservative against sorrow and affliction. At nine o'clock,

however, another aide-de-camp of her husband presented himself, and gave

her the choice either to accompany him back to the study or to join the

family party of the Bonapartes.

In deploring her mother's situation, Madame Louis Bonaparte informed her

former governess, Madame Cam---n, of these particulars, which I heard her

relate at Madame de M----r's, almost verbatim as I report them to you.

Such, and other scenes, nearly of the same description, are neither rare

nor singular, in the most singular Court that ever existed in civilized

Europe.

LETTER VII.

PARIS, August, 1805.