The Private Life of Napoleon Bonaparte, Complete

C >> Constant >> The Private Life of Napoleon Bonaparte, Complete


A priest was first sent to him. The officer received him with the utmost
respect, but refused to make confession, and was next importuned by the
visit of a brotherhood of penitents. At last the executioner came to
conduct him to the place of punishment; and while he was on the way,
accompanied by several gendarmes and a long line of penitents, the
funeral procession was interrupted by the unexpected arrival of the
colonel of the gendarmerie, whom chance brought to the scene. This
officer bore the name of Colonel Boizard, a man well known in all upper
Italy, and the terror of all malefactors. The colonel ordered a halt,
for the purpose of himself questioning the condemned, and made him give
an account of the circumstances of the crime and the sentence. When he
was alone with the officer, he said, "You see that all is against you,
and nothing can save you from the death which awaits you. I can,
nevertheless, save you, but only on one condition. I know that you
belong to the society of the Carbonari. Give me the names of your
accomplices in these terrible conspiracies and your life shall be the
reward."--"Never!"--"Consider, nevertheless."--"Never, I tell you; lead
me to execution."

It was then necessary to set out anew for the place of execution. The
executioner was at his post; and as the officer with a firm step mounted
the fatal scaffold, Colonel Boizard rushed up to him and begged him still
to save his life on the conditions he had offered. "No! no! never!"
Instantly the scene changed; the colonel, the executioner, the gendarmes,
the priest, penitents, and spectators, all gathered round the officer,
each one eager to press him to their hearts, and he was conducted in
triumph to his dwelling. All that had passed was simply an initiation.
The assassins in the forest and their victim, as well as the judges and
the pretended Colonel Boizard, had been playing a role; and the most
suspicious Carbonari now knew how far their new brother would carry the
constancy of his heroism and the observance of his oath.

This is almost exactly the recital which I heard, as I have said, with
the deepest interest, and which I take the liberty of repeating, though I
well understand how much it will lose by being written. Can it be
implicitly believed? This is what I would not undertake to decide; but I
can affirm that my informant gave it as the truth, and was perfectly
certain that the particulars would be found in the archives of Milan,
since this extraordinary initiation was at the time the subject of a
circumstantial report addressed to the vice-king, whom fate had
determined should nevermore see the Emperor.




CHAPTER XVIII.

I digressed considerably, in the preceding chapter, from my recollections
of Paris subsequent to our return from Germany after the battle of
Leipzig, and the Emperor's short sojourn at Mayence. I cannot even now
write the name of the latter town without recalling the spectacle of
tumult and confusion which it presented after the glorious battle of
Hanau, where the Bavarians fought so bravely on this the first occasion
when they presented themselves as enemies before those in whose ranks
they had so recently stood. It was, if I am not mistaken, in this last
engagement that the Bavarian general, Wrede, was, with his family, the
immediate victims of their treachery. The general, whom the Emperor had
overwhelmed with kindness, was mortally wounded, all his relatives in the
Bavarian army were slain, and his son-in-law, Prince of Oettingen, met
the same fate. It was one of those events which never failed to make a
deep impression on the mind of his Majesty, since it strengthened his
ideas of fatality. It was also at Mayence that the Emperor gave orders
for the assembling of the Corps Legislatif on the 2d of December. The
opening was delayed, as we shall see; and far better would it have been
had it been indefinitely postponed; since in that case his Majesty would
not have experienced the misfortunes he afterwards endured from their
opposition, symptoms of which now manifested themselves for the first
time in a manner which was, to say the least, intemperate.

One of the things which astonished me most at the time, and which still
astonishes me when I recall it now, was the incredible activity of the
Emperor, which, far from diminishing, seemed to increase each day, as if
the very exercise of his strength redoubled it. At the period of which I
now speak, it is impossible to describe how completely every moment of
his Majesty's time was filled. Since he had again met the Empress and
his son, the Emperor had resumed his accustomed serenity; and I rarely
surprised him in that open abandonment to dejection to which he sometimes
gave way, in the retirement of his chamber, immediately after our return
from Moscow. He was occupied more ostensibly than usual in the numerous
public works which were being prosecuted in Paris, and which formed a
useful distraction to his engrossing thoughts of war and the distressing
news which reached him from the army. Almost every day, troops, equipped
as if by magic, were reviewed by his Majesty, and ordered immediately to
the Rhine, nearly the whole course of which was threatened; and the
danger, which we then scarcely thought possible, must have appeared most
imminent to the inhabitants of the capital, not infatuated, like
ourselves, by the kind of charm the Emperor exercised over all those who
had the honor of approaching his august person. In fact, for the first
time he was compelled to demand of the senate to anticipate the levy for
the ensuing year, and each day also brought depressing news. The prince
arch-treasurer returned the following autumn, forced to quit Holland
after the evacuation of this kingdom by our troops; whilst Marshal
Gouvion Saint-Cyr was compelled at Dresden to sign a capitulation for
himself and the thirty thousand men whom he had held in reserve at that
place.

The capitulation of Marshal Saint-Cyr will never, surely, occupy an
honorable place in the history of the cabinet of Vienna. It is not my
province to pass judgment on these political combinations; but I cannot
forget the indignation which was generally manifested at the palace when
it was learned that this capitulation had been shamelessly violated by
those who had now become the stronger party. It was stated in this
capitulation that the marshal should return to France with the troops
under his command, carrying with him a part of his artillery, and that
these troops should be exchanged for a like number of the allied troops;
that the wounded French who remained at Dresden should be returned to
France on their restoration to health; and that, finally, the marshal
should begin these movements on the 16th of November. No part of this
agreement was complied with. Imagine, then, the indignation of the
Emperor, already so deeply afflicted by the capitulation of Dresden, when
he learned that, contrary to every stipulation agreed upon, these troops
had been made prisoners by the Prince von Swarzenberg. I remember one
day the Prince de Neuchatel being in his Majesty's cabinet, which I
happened to enter at the moment, the Emperor remarked to him, with
considerable vehemence, "You speak to me of peace. How can I believe in
the good faith of those people? You see what happened at Dresden. No,
I tell you, they do not wish to treat with us; they are only endeavoring
to gain time, and it is our business not to lose it." The prince did not
reply; or, at least, I heard no more, as I just then left the cabinet,
having executed the duty which had taken me there. Moreover, I can add,
as an additional proof of the confidence with which his Majesty honored
me, that when I entered he never interrupted himself in what he was
saying, however important it might be; and I dare to affirm that if my
memory were better, these souvenirs would contain much more valuable
information.

Since I have spoken of the evil tidings which overwhelmed the Emperor in
such quick succession during the last months of the year 1813, there is
one I should not omit, since it affected his Majesty so painfully. I
refer to the death of Count Louis de Narbonne. Of all those who had not
begun their careers under the eyes of the Emperor, M. de Narbonne was the
one for whom he felt the deepest affection; and it must be admitted that
it was impossible to find a man in whom genuine merit was united to more
attractive manners. The Emperor regarded him as a most proper person to
conduct a negotiation, and said of him one day, "Narbonne is a born
ambassador." It was known in the palace why the Emperor had appointed
him his aide-decamp at the time he formed the household of the Empress
Marie Louise. The Emperor had at first intended to appoint him chevalier
of honor to the new Empress, but a skillfully concocted intrigue caused
him to refuse this position; and it was in some degree to make amends for
this that he received the appointment of aide-de-camp to his Majesty.
There was not at that time a position more highly valued in all France;
many foreign and even sovereign princes had solicited in vain this high
mark of favor, and amongst these I can name Prince Leopold de
Saxe-Coburg,

[Later he became King of the Belgians (in 1831), and the next year
married the daughter of Louis Philippe. His first wife, Princess
Charlotte of England, whom he married in 1816, died the same year.
Leopold was born 1790, and died 1865.]

who married Princess Charlotte of England, and who refused to be King of
Greece, after failing to obtain the position of aide-de-camp to the
Emperor.

I would not dare to say, according to my recollection, that no one at the
court was jealous on seeing M. de Narbonne appointed aide-de-camp to the
Emperor; but if there were any I have forgotten their names. However
that may have been, he soon became very popular, and each day the Emperor
appreciated more highly his character and services. I remember on one
occasion to have heard his Majesty say--I think it was at Dresden--that
he had never thoroughly known the cabinet of Vienna until the fine nose
of Narbonne--that was the Emperor's expression--had scented out those old
diplomats. After the pretended negotiations, of which I have spoken
above, and which occupied the entire time of the armistice at Dresden,
M. de Narbonne had remained in Germany, where the Emperor had committed
to him the government of Torgau; and it was there he died, on the 17th of
November, in consequence of a fall from his horse, in spite of all the
attentions lavished on him by Baron Desgenettes. With the exception of
the death of Marshal Duroc and Prince Poniatowski, I do not remember to
have ever seen the Emperor show more sincere sorrow than on this
occasion. Meanwhile, almost at the very moment he lost M. de Narbonne,
but before he had heard of his death, the Emperor had made arrangements
to fill the place near his person of the man he had loved most, not even
excepting General Desaix. He had just called General Bertrand to the
high position of grand marshal of the palace; and this choice was
generally approved by all who had the honor of Count Bertrand's
acquaintance. But what is there for me to say here of a man whose name
in history will never be separated from that of the Emperor? This same
period had seen the fall of the Duke of Istria, one of the four
colonel-generals of the guard, and Marshal Duroc: and this same
appointment included the names of their successors; for Marshal Suchet
was appointed at the same time as General Bertrand, and took the place
of Marshal Bessieres as colonel-general of the guard.

[Louis Gabriel Suchet, born at Lyons, 1770. Served in the Italian
campaign in 1796. Brigadier-general, 1797; general of division,
1799. Governor of Genoa, 1800, and served at Austerlitz, 1805. For
his brilliant services in Spain he was created Duke of Albufera and
marshal, 1811. At St. Helena, Napoleon stated he was the ablest of
his generals then surviving. Suchet married the niece of the wives
of Joseph Bonaparte and Bernadotte, and his widow died as recently
as 1891. Suchet died 1826.]


At the same time his Majesty made several other changes in the higher
offices of the Empire. A committee of the senate having conferred on the
Emperor the right to appoint, of his own choice, the president of the
Corps Legislatif, his Majesty bestowed this presidency on the Duke of
Massa, who was replaced in his former position as grand judge by Count
Mole, the youngest of the Emperor's ministers. The Duke of Bassano
became the secretary of state, and the Duke of Vicenza received the
portfolio of foreign relations.

As I have said, during the autumn of 1813 his Majesty frequently visited
the public works. He usually went almost unattended, and on foot, to
visit those of the Tuileries and the Louvre, and afterwards mounted his
horse, accompanied by one or two officers at most, and M. Fontaine, and
went to examine those which were more distant. One day,--it was about
the end of November, having seized the opportunity of his Majesty's
absence to take a walk through the Faubourg Saint Germain, I unexpectedly
encountered his Majesty on his way to the Luxembourg, just as he arrived
at the entrance of the Rue de Tournon; and it is impossible to describe
the intense satisfaction with which I heard shouts of "Vive l'Empereur"
break forth as he approached. I found myself driven by the crowd very
near the Emperor's horse, and yet I did not imagine for a moment that he
had recognized me. On his return, however, I had proofs to the contrary.
His Majesty had seen me; and as I assisted him to change his clothing the
Emperor gayly remarked to me, "Well, M. le Drole! Ah! ah! what were
you doing in the Faubourg Saint Germain? I see just how it is! A fine
thing really! You spy on me when I go out," and many other jests of the
same kind; for on that day the Emperor was in such fine spirits that I
concluded he had been much pleased with his visit.

Whenever at this time the Emperor experienced any unusual anxiety, I
noticed that in order to dispel it he took pleasure in exhibiting himself
in public more frequently, perhaps, than during his other sojourns in
Paris, but always without any ostentation. He went frequently to the
theater; and, thanks to the obliging kindness of Count de Remusat, I
myself frequently attended these assemblies, which at that time always
had the appearance of a fete. Assuredly, when on the occasion of the
first representation of the ballet of Nina, their Majesties entered their
box, it would have been difficult to imagine that the Emperor had already
enemies among his subjects. It is true that the mothers and widows in
mourning were not there; but I can affirm that I have never seen more
perfect enthusiasm. The Emperor enjoyed this from the depths of his
heart, even more, perhaps, than after his victories. The conviction that
he was beloved by the French people impressed him deeply, and in the
evening he condescended to speak to me of it--shall I dare to say like a
child puffed up with pride at the reward he has just received? Then in
the perfect freedom of privacy he said repeatedly, "My wife! my good
Louise! Truly, she should be well satisfied." The truth is, that the
desire to see the Emperor at the theater was so great in Paris, that as
he always took his place in the box at the side, opening on the
proscenium, each time that he made his appearance there the boxes
situated on the opposite side of the hall were rented at incredible
figures, and even the uppermost tiers were preferred to those from which
they could not see him easily. No one who lived in Paris at that time
can fail to recognize the correctness of this statement.

Some time after the first representation of the ballet of Nina, the
Emperor again attended the theater, and I was also present. As formerly,
the Emperor accompanied her Majesty; and I could not keep back the
thought, as the play proceeded, that the Emperor had some memories
sufficient to distract his attention from the exquisite music. It was at
the Italian theater then occupying the Odeon. The Cleopatra of Nazzolini
was played; and the representation was among the number of those called
extraordinary, since it was on the occasion of Madame Grassini's benefit.
It had been only a short while since this singer, celebrated in more ways
than one, had first appeared in public on a Parisian stage, I think this
was really only the third or fourth time; and I should state, in order to
be exactly correct, that she did not produce on the Parisian public
exactly the impression which had been expected from her immense
reputation. It had been long since the Emperor had received her
privately; but, nevertheless, her voice and Crescentini's had been
reserved until then for the privileged ears of the spectators of
Saint-Cloud and the theater of the Tuileries. On, this occasion the
Emperor was very generous towards the beneficiary, but no interview
resulted; for, in the language of a poet of that period, the Cleopatra
of Paris did not conquer another Antony.

Thus, as we see, the Emperor on a few occasions laid aside the important
affairs which occupied him, less to enjoy the theater than for the
purpose of showing himself in public. All useful undertakings were the
objects of his care; and he did not depend entirely even on the
information of men to whom he had most worthily committed them, but saw
everything for himself. Among the institutions especially protected by
his Majesty, there was one in which he took an especial interest. I do
not think that in any of the intervals between his wars the Emperor had
come to Paris without making a visit to the institution of the Daughters
of the Legion of Honor, of which Madame Campan was in charge, first at
Ecouen, and afterwards at Saint-Denis. The Emperor visited it in the
month of November, and I remember an anecdote which I heard related to
his Majesty on this occasion which diverted him exceedingly.
Nevertheless, I cannot remember positively whether this anecdote relates
to the visit of 1813, or one made previously.

In the first place, it must be explained that, in accordance with the
regulation of the household of the young ladies of the Legion of Honor,
no man, with the exception of the Emperor, was admitted into the interior
of the establishment. But as the Emperor was always attended by an
escort, his suite formed in some sort a part of himself, and entered with
him. Besides his officers, the pages usually accompanied him. In the
evening on his return from Saint-Denis, the Emperor said to me, laughing,
as he entered his room, where I was waiting to undress him, "Well, my
pages wish to resemble the pages of former times! The little idiots!
Do you know what they do? When I go to Saint-Denis, they have a contest
among themselves as to who shall be on duty. Ha! ha!" The Emperor,
while speaking, laughed and rubbed his hands together; and then, having
repeated several times in the same tone; "The little idiots," he added,
following out one of those singular reflections which sometimes struck
him, "I, Constant, would have made a very poor page; I would never have
had such an idea. Moreover, these are good young men; good officers have
already come from among them. This will lead one day to some marriages."
It was very rare, in fact, that a thing, though frivolous in appearance,
did not lead, on the Emperor's part, to some serious conclusion.
Hereafter, indeed, with the exception of a few remembrances of the past,
I shall have only serious and often very sad events to relate; for we
have now arrived at the point where everything has taken a serious turn,
and clothed itself in most somber tints.




CHAPTER XIX.

For the last time we celebrated in Paris the anniversary fete of his
Majesty's coronation. The gifts to the Emperor on this occasion were
innumerable addresses made to him by all the towns of the Empire, in
which offers of sacrifices and protestations of devotion seemed to
increase in intensity in proportion to the difficulty of the
circumstances. Alas! in four months the full value of these
protestations was proved; and, nevertheless, how was it possible to
believe that this enthusiasm, which was so universal, was not entirely
sincere? This would have been an impossibility with the Emperor, who,
until the very end of his reign, believed himself beloved by France with
the same devotion which he felt for her. A truth, which was well proved
by succeeding events, is that the Emperor became more popular among that
part of the inhabitants called the people when misfortunes began to
overwhelm him. His Majesty had proofs of this in a visit he made to the
Faubourg Saint-Antoine; and it is very certain that, if under other
circumstances he had been able to bend from his dignity to propitiate the
people, a means which was most repugnant to the Emperor in consequence of
his remembrances of the Revolution, all the faubourgs of Paris would have
armed themselves in his defense. How can this be doubted after the event
which I here describe?

The Emperor, towards the end of 1813 or the beginning of 1814, on one
occasion visited the Faubourg Saint-Antoine. I cannot to-day give the
precise date of this unexpected visit; but at any rate he showed himself
on this occasion familiar, even to the point of good fellowship, which
emboldened those immediately around to address him. I now relate the
conversation which occurred between his Majesty and several of the
inhabitants, which has been faithfully recorded, and admitted to be true
by several witnesses of this really touching scene.

An Inhabitant.--"Is it true, as I am told, that the condition of affairs
is so bad?"

The Emperor.--"I cannot say that they are in a very good condition."

The Inhabitant.--"But how, then, will all this end?"

The Emperor.--"By my faith, God alone knows."

The Inhabitant.--"But what! Is it possible the enemy could really enter
France?"

The Emperor.--"That might occur, and they might even penetrate as far as
this place, if you do not come to my aid. I have not a million arms. I
cannot do everything alone."

Numerous Voices.--"We will uphold you, we will uphold you."

Still more Voices.--"Yes, yes. Count on us."

The Emperor.--"In that case the enemy will be beaten, and we will
preserve our glory untarnished."

Several Voices.--"But what, then, shall we do?"

The Emperor.--"Be enrolled and fight."

A New Voice.--"We would do this gladly, but we would like to make certain
conditions."

The Emperor.--"Well, speak out frankly. Let us know; what are these
conditions?"

Several Voices.--"That we are not to pass the frontiers."

The Emperor.--"You shall not pass them."

Several Voices.--"We wish to enter the guard."

The Emperor.--"Well, then, you shall enter the guard."

His Majesty had hardly pronounced these last words, when the immense
crowd which surrounded him made the air resound with cries of "Vive
l'Empereur!" and their number continued to increase all the way as the
Emperor slowly returned to the Tuileries, until, by the time he reached
the gates of the Carrousel, he was accompanied by an innumerable cortege.
We heard these noisy acclamations; but they were so badly interpreted by
the commandant of the post at the palace, that he thought it was an
insurrection, and the iron gates of the Tuileries on that side of the
court were closed.

When I saw the Emperor, a few moments after his return, he appeared more
annoyed than pleased; for everything having an appearance of disorder was
excessively distasteful to him, and a popular tumult, whatever its cause,
had always in it something unpleasant to him.

Meanwhile this scene, which his Majesty might well have repeated,
produced a deep impression on the people; and this enthusiasm had
positive and immediate results, since on that day more than two thousand
men were voluntarily enrolled, and formed a new regiment of the guard.

On the anniversary fete of the coronation and of the battle of
Austerlitz, there were as usual free representations in all the theaters
of Paris; but at these the Emperor did not appear, as he had so often
done. There were also amusements, a free distribution of eatables, and
also illuminations; and twelve young girls, whose marriage dowries were
given by the city of Paris, were married to old soldiers. I remember
that among everything which marked the ceremonials of the Empire, the
custom of performing these marriages was the one most pleasing to the
Emperor, and he often spoke of it in terms of approbation; for, if I may
be allowed to make the observation, his Majesty had what might be called
a kind of mania on the subject of marriage. We were now settled at the
Tuileries, which the Emperor had not left since the 20th of November when
he had returned from Saint-Cloud, and which he did not leave again until
his departure for the army. His Majesty often presided over the
deliberations of the council of state, which were of grave interest. I
learned at that time, in relation to a certain decree, a circumstance
which appeared to me very singular. The Commune of Montmorency had long
since lost its ancient name; but it was not until the end of November,
1813, that the Emperor legally took away the name of Emile which it had
received under the republic in honor of J. J. Rousseau. It may well be
believed that it had retained it so long simply because the Emperor's
attention had not been directed to it sooner.