Memoirs of Napoleon Bonaparte — Complete
me to have dissuaded Bonaparte from his fatal design, inasmuch as I
positively know that his object, after the termination of the peace, was
merely to frighten the emigrants, in order to drive them from Ettenheim,
where great numbers, like the Duc d'Enghien, had sought refuge. His
anger was particularly directed against a Baroness de Reith and a
Baroness d'Ettengein, who had loudly vituperated him, and distributed
numerous libels on the left bank of the Rhine. At that period Bonaparte
had as little design against the Duc d'Enghien's life as against that of
any other emigrant. He was more inclined to frighten than to harm him,
and certainly his first intention was not to arrest the Prince, but, as
I have said, to frighten the 'emigres', and to drive them to a distance.
I must, however, admit that when Bonaparte spoke to Rapp and Duroc of
the emigrants on the other side of the Rhine he expressed himself with
much irritability: so much so, indeed, that M. de Talleyrand, dreading
its effects for the Duc d'Enghien, warned that Prince, through the
medium of a lady to whom he was attached, of his danger, and advised him
to proceed to a greater distance from the frontier. On receiving this
notice the Prince resolved to rejoin his grandfather, which he could not
do but by passing through the Austrian territory. Should any doubt exist
as to these facts it may be added that Sir Charles Stuart wrote to M. de
Cobentzel to solicit a passport for the Duc d'Enghien; and it was solely
owing to the delay of the Austrian Cabinet that time was afforded for
the First Consul to order the arrest of the unfortunate Prince as soon
as he had formed the horrible resolution of shedding the blood of a
Bourbon. This resolution could have originated only with himself, for
who would have dared to suggest it to him? The fact is, Bonaparte knew
not what he did. His fever of ambition amounted to delirium; and he knew
not how he was losing himself in public opinion because he did not know
that opinion, to gain which he would have made every sacrifice.
When Cambacérès (who, with a slight reservation, had voted the death of
Louis XVI.) warmly opposed in the Council the Duc d'Enghien's arrest,
the First Consul observed to him, "Methinks, Sir, you have grown very
chary of Bourbon blood!"
Meanwhile the Duc d'Enghien was at Ettenheim, indulging in hope rather
than plotting conspiracies. It is well known that an individual made an
offer to the Prince de Condé to assassinate the First Consul, but
the Prince indignantly rejected the proposition, and nobly refused to
recover the rights of the Bourbons at the price of such a crime. The
individual above-mentioned was afterwards discovered to be an agent of
the Paris police, who had been commissioned to draw the Princes into
a plot which would have ruined them, for public feeling revolts at
assassination under any circumstances.
It has been alleged that Louis XVIII.'s refusal to treat with Bonaparte
led to the fatal catastrophe of the Duc d'Enghien's death. The first
correspondence between Louis XVIII. and the First Consul, which has been
given in these Memoirs, clearly proves the contrary. It is certainly
probable that Louis XVIII.'s refusal to renounce his rights should have
irritated Bonaparte. But it was rather late to take his revenge
two years after, and that too on a Prince totally ignorant of those
overtures. It is needless to comment on such absurdities. It is equally
unnecessary to speak of the mysterious being who often appeared at
meetings in the Faubourg St. Germain, and who was afterwards discovered
to be Pichegru.
A further light is thrown on this melancholy catastrophe by a
conversation Napoleon had, a few days after his elevation to the
imperial throne, with M. Masaias, the French Minister at the Court
of the Grand Duke of Baden. This conversation took place at
Aix-la-Chapelle. After some remarks on the intrigues of the emigrants
Bonaparte observed, "You ought at least to have prevented the plots
which the Duc d'Enghien was hatching at Ettenheim."--"Sire, I am too old
to learn to tell a falsehood. Believe me, on this subject your Majesty's
ear has been abused."--"Do you not think, then, that had the conspiracy
of Georges and Pichegru proved successful, the Prince would have passed
the Rhine, and have come post to Paris?"
M. Massias, from whom I had these particulars, added, "At this last
question of the Emperor I hung down my head and was silent, for I saw he
did not wish to hear the truth."
Now let us consider, with that attention which the importance of the
subject demands, what has been said by the historians of St. Helena.
Napoleon said to his companions in exile that "the Duc d'Enghien's death
must be attributed either to an excess of zeal for him (Napoleon), to
private views, or to mysterious intrigues. He had been blindly urged
on; he was, if he might say so, taken by surprise. The measure was
precipitated, and the result predetermined."
This he might have said; but if he did so express himself, how are we
to reconcile such a declaration with the statement of O'Meara? How give
credit to assertions so very opposite?
Napoleon said to M. de Las Casas:
"One day when alone, I recollect it well, I was taking my coffee,
half seated on the table at which I had just dined, when suddenly
information was brought to me that a new conspiracy had been
discovered. I was warmly urged to put an end to these enormities;
they represented to me that it was time at last to give a lesson to
those who had been day after day conspiring against my life; that
this end could only be attained by shedding the blood of one of
them; and that the Duc d'Enghien, who might now be convicted of
forming part of this new conspiracy, and taken in the very act,
should be that one. It was added that he had been seen at
Strasburg; that it was even believed that he had been in Paris; and
that the plan was that he should enter France by the east at the
moment of the explosion, whilst the Duc de Berri was disembarking in
the west. I should tell you," observed the Emperor, "that I did not
even know precisely who the Duc d'Enghien was (the Revolution having
taken place when I was yet a very young man, and I having never been
at Court), and that I was quite in the dark as to where he was at
that moment. Having been informed on those points I exclaimed that
if such were the case the Duke ought to be arrested, and that orders
should be given to that effect. Everything had been foreseen and
prepared; the different orders were already drawn up, nothing
remained to be done but to sign them, and the fate of the young
Prince was thus decided."
Napoleon next asserts that in the Duke's arrest and condemnation all the
usual forms were strictly observed. But he has also declared that the
death of that unfortunate Prince will be an eternal reproach to those
who, carried away by a criminal zeal, waited not for their Sovereign's
orders to execute the sentence of the court-martial. He would, perhaps,
have allowed the Prince to live; but yet he said, "It is true I wished
to make an example which should deter."
It has been said that the Duc d'Enghien addressed a letter to Napoleon,
which was not delivered till after the execution. This is false and
absurd! How could that Prince write to Bonaparte to offer him his
services and to solicit the command of an army? His interrogatory makes
no mention of this letter, and is in direct opposition to the sentiments
which that letter would attribute to him. The truth is, no such letter
ever existed. The individual who was with the Prince declared he never
wrote it. It will never be believed that any one would have presumed to
withhold from Bonaparte a letter on which depended the fate of so august
a victim.
In his declarations to his companions in exile Napoleon endeavoured
either to free himself of this crime or to justify it. His fear or his
susceptibility was such, that in discoursing with strangers he merely
said, that had he known of the Prince's letter, which was not delivered
to him.--God knows why!--until after he had breathed his last, he would
have pardoned him. But at a subsequent date he traced, with his own
hand, his last thoughts, which he supposed would be consecrated in the
minds of his contemporaries, and of posterity. Napoleon, touching on the
subject which he felt would be one of the most important attached to his
memory, said that if the thing were to do again he would act as he then
did. How does this declaration tally with his avowal, that if he
had received the Prince's letter he should have lived? This is
irreconcilable. But if we compare all that Napoleon said at St. Helena,
and which has been transmitted to us by his faithful followers; if we
consider his contradictions when speaking of the Duc d'Enghien's death
to strangers, to his friends, to the public, or to posterity, the
question ceases to be doubtful. Bonaparte wished to strike a blow which
would terrify his enemies. Fancying that the Duc de Berri was ready
to land in France, he despatched his aide de camp Savary, in disguise,
attended by gendarmes, to watch the Duke's landing at Biville, near
Dieppe. This turned out a fruitless mission. The Duke was warned in
time not to attempt the useless and dangerous enterprise, and Bonaparte,
enraged to see one prey escape him, pounced upon another. It is well
known that Bonaparte often, and in the presence even of persons whom
he conceived to have maintained relations with the partisans of the
Bourbons at Paris, expressed himself thus: "I will put an end to these
conspiracies. If any of the emigrants conspire they shall be shot. I
have been told that Cobentzel harbours some of them. I do not believe
this; but if it be true, Cobentzel shall be arrested and shot along with
them. I will let the Bourbons know I am not to be trifled with." The
above statement of facts accounts for the suppositions respecting the
probable influence of the Jacobins in this affair. It has been said, not
without some appearance of reason, that to get the Jacobins to help him
to ascend the throne Bonaparte consented to sacrifice a victim of the
blood royal, as the only pledge capable of ensuring them against
the return of the proscribed family. Be this as it may, there are no
possible means of relieving Bonaparte from his share of guilt in the
death of the Duc d'Enghien.
To the above facts, which came within my own knowledge, I may add the
following curious story, which was related to me by an individual who
himself heard it from the secretary of General Davoust.
Davoust was commanding a division in the camp of Boulogne, and his
secretary when proceeding thither to join him met in the diligence a
man who seemed to be absorbed in affliction. This man during the whole
journey never once broke silence but by some deep sighs, which he had
not power to repress. General Davoust's secretary observed him with
curiosity and interest, but did not venture to intrude upon his grief
by any conversation. The concourse of travellers from Paris to the
camp was, however, at that time very great, and the inn at which the
diligence stopped in the evening was so crowded that it was impossible
to assign a chamber to each traveller. Two, therefore, were put into
one room, and it so happened that the secretary was lodged with his
mysterious travelling companion.
When they were alone he addressed him in a torso of interest which
banished all appearance of intrusion. He inquired whether the cause of
his grief was of a nature to admit of any alleviation, and offered to
render him any assistance in his power. "Sir," replied the stranger,
"I am much obliged for the sympathy you express for me--I want nothing.