Memoirs of Napoleon Bonaparte — Complete
There is no possible consolation for me. My affliction can end only with
my life. You shall judge for yourself, for the interest you seem to take
in my misfortune fully justifies my confidence. I was quartermaster
in the select gendarmerie, and formed part of a detachment which was
ordered to Vincennes. I passed the night there under arms, and at
daybreak was ordered down to the moat with six men. An execution was to
take place. The prisoner was brought out, and I gave the word to fire.
The man fell, and after the execution I learned that we had shot the
Duc d'Enghien. Judge of my horror! . . . I knew the prisoner only by the
name of the brigand of La Vendée! . . . I could no longer remain in the
service--I obtained my discharge, and am about to retire to my family.
Would that I had done so sooner!" The above has been related to me and
other persons by Davoust's secretary, whom I shall not name.
CHAPTER XXIII.
1804.
General Ordener's mission--Arrest of the Duc d'Enghien--Horrible
night-scene---Harrel's account of the death of the Prince--Order for
digging the grave--The foster-sister of the Duc d'Enghien--Reading
the sentence--The lantern--General Savary--The faithful dog and the
police--My visit to Malmaison--Josephine's grief--
The Duc d'Enghien's portrait and lock of hair--Savary's emotion--
M. de Chateaubriand's resignation--M. de Chateaubriand's connection
with Bonaparte--Madame Bacciocchi and M. de Fontanes--Cardinal Fesch
--Dedication of the second edition of the 'Genie du Christianisme'
--M. de Chateaubriand's visit to the First Consul on the morning of
the Duc d'Enghien's death--Consequences of the Duc d'Enghien's
death--Change of opinion in the provinces--The Gentry of the
Chateaus--Effect of the Duc d'Enghien's death on foreign Courts--
Remarkable words of Mr. Pitt--Louis XVIII. sends back the insignia
of the Golden Fleece to the King of Spain.
I will now narrate more fully the sanguinary scene which took place at
Vincennes. General Ordener, commanding the mounted grenadiers of the
Guard, received orders from the War Minister to proceed to the Rhine, to
give instructions to the chiefs of the gendarmerie of New Brissac,
which was placed at his disposal. General Ordener sent a detachment of
gendarmerie to Ettenheim, where the Duc d'Enghien was arrested on the
15th of March. He was immediately conducted to the citadel of Strasburg,
where he remained till the 18th, to give time for the arrival of orders
from Paris. These orders were given rapidly, and executed promptly,
for the carriage which conveyed the unfortunate Prince arrived at the
barrier at eleven o'clock on the morning of the 20th, where it remained
for five hours, and afterwards proceeded by the exterior boulevards on
the road to Vincennes, where it arrived at night. Every scene of this
horrible drama was acted under the veil of night: the sun did not even
shine upon its tragical close. The soldiers received orders to proceed
to Vincennes at night. It was at night that the fatal gates of the
fortress were closed upon the Prince. At night the Council assembled and
tried him, or rather condemned him without trial. When the clock struck
six in the morning the orders were given to fire, and the Prince ceased
to exist.
Here a reflection occurs to me. Supposing one were inclined to admit
that the Council held on the 10th of March had some connection with the
Duc d'Enghien's arrest, yet as no Council was held from the time of the
Duke's arrival at the barrier to the moment of his execution, it
could only be Bonaparte himself who issued the orders which were too
punctually obeyed. When the dreadful intelligence of the Duc d'Enghien's
death was spread in Paris it excited a feeling of consternation which
recalled the recollection of the Reign of Terror. Could Bonaparte have
seen the gloom which pervaded Paris, and compared it with the joy which
prevailed on the day when he returned victorious from the field of
Marengo, he would have felt that he had tarnished his glory by a stain
which could never be effaced.
About half-past twelve on the 22d of March I was informed that some one
wished to speak with me. It was Harrel.
--[Harrel, who had been unemployed till the plot of Arena and
Ceracchi on the 18th Vendemiairean IX (10th October 1800) which he
had feigned to join, and had then revealed to the police (see ante),
had been made Governor of Vincennes.]--
I will relate word for word what he communicated to me. Harrel probably
thought that he was bound in gratitude to acquaint me with these
details; but he owed me no gratitude, for it was much against my will
that he had encouraged the conspiracy of Ceracchi, and received the
reward of his treachery in that crime. The following is Harrel's
statement:--
"On the evening of the day before yesterday, when the Prince arrived,
I was asked whether I had a room to lodge a prisoner in; I replied,
No--that there were only my apartments and the Council-chamber. I was
told to prepare instantly a room in which a prisoner could sleep who
was to arrive that evening. I was also desired to dig a pit in the
courtyard.
--[This fact must be noted. Harrel is told to dig a trench before
the sentence. Thus it was known that they had come to kill the Duc
d'Enghien. How can this be answered? Can it possibly be supposed
that anyone, whoever it was, would have dared to give each an order
in anticipation if the order had not been the carrying out of a
formal command of Bonaparte? That is incredible.--Bourrienne.]--
"I replied that that could not be easily done, as the courtyard was
paved. The moat was then fixed upon, and there the pit was dug. The
Prince arrived at seven o'clock in the evening; he was perishing
with cold and hunger. He did not appear dispirited. He said he wanted
something to eat, and to go to bed afterwards. His apartment not being
yet sufficiently aired, I took him into my own, and sent into the
village for some refreshment. The Prince sat down to table, and invited
me to eat with him. He then asked me a number of questions respecting
Vincennes--what was going on there, and other particulars. He told me
that he had been brought up in the neighbourhood of the castle, and
spoke to me with great freedom and kindness. 'What do they want with
me?' he said. 'What do they mean to do with me?' But these questions
betrayed no uneasiness or anxiety. My wife, who was ill, was lying in
the same room in an alcove, closed by a railing. She heard, without
being perceived, all our conversation, and she was exceedingly agitated,
for she recognised the Prince, whose foster-sister she was, and whose
family had given her a pension before the Revolution.
"The Prince hastened to bed, but before he could have fallen asleep the
judges sent to request his presence in the Council-chamber. I was not
present at his examination; but when it was concluded he returned to
his chamber, and when they came to read his sentence to him he was in a
profound sleep. In a few moments after he was led out for execution. He
had so little suspicion of the fate that awaited him that on descending
the staircase leading to the moat he asked where they were taking him.
He received no answer. I went before the Prince with a lantern. Feeling
the cold air which came up the staircase he pressed my arm and said,
'Are they going to put me into a dungeon?'"
The rest is known. I can yet see Harrel shuddering while thinking of
this action of the Prince's.
Much has been said about a lantern which it is pretended was attached
to one of the Duc d'Enghien's button-holes. This is a pure invention.
Captain Dautancourt, whose sight was not very good, took the lantern
out of Harrel's hand to read the sentence to the victim, who had been
condemned with as little regard to judicial forms as to justice. This
circumstance probably gave rise to the story about the lantern to which
I have just alluded. The fatal event took place at six o'clock on the
morning of the 21st of March, and it was then daylight.
General Savary did not dare to delay the execution of the sentence,
although the Prince urgently demanded to have an interview with the
First Consul. Had Bonaparte seen the prince there can be little doubt
but that he would have saved his life. Savary, however, thought himself
bound to sacrifice his own opinions to the powerful faction which then
controlled the First Consul; and whilst he thought he was serving his
master, he was in fact only serving the faction to which, I must say, he
did not belong. The truth is, that General Savary can only be reproached
for not having taken upon himself to suspend the execution, which very
probably would not have taken place had it been suspended. He was merely
an instrument, and regret on his part would, perhaps, have told more in
his favour than his vain efforts to justify Bonaparte. I have just
said that if there had been any suspension there would have been no
execution; and I think this is almost proved by the uncertainty which
must have existed in the mind of the First Consul. If he had made up his
mind all the measures would have been taken in advance, and if they had
been, the carriage of the Duke would certainly not have been kept
for five hours at the barriers. Besides, it is certain that the first
intention was to take the Prince to the prison of the Temple.
From all that I have stated, and particularly from the non-suspension of
the execution, it appears to me as clear as day that General Savary had
received a formal order from Bonaparte for the Duc d'Enghien's death,
and also a formal order that it should be so managed as to make it
impossible to speak to Bonaparte again on the subject until all should
be over. Can there be a more evident, a more direct proof of this than
the digging of the grave beforehand? I have repeated Harrel's story just
as he related it to me. He told it me without solicitation, and he could
not invent a circumstance of this nature.
General Savary was not in the moat during the execution, but on
the bank, from whence he could easily see all that passed. Another
circumstance connected with the Duc d'Enghien's death has been
mentioned, which is true. The Prince had a little dog; this faithful
animal returned incessantly to the fatal spot in the moat. There are few
who have not seen that spot. Who has not made a pilgrimage to Vincennes
and dropped a tear where the victim fell? The fidelity of the poor dog
excited so much interest that the police prevented any one from visiting
the fatal spot, and the dog was no longer heard to howl over his
master's grave.
I promised to state the truth respecting the death of the Duc d'Enghien,
and I have done so, though it has cost me some pain. Harrel's narrative,
and the shocking circumstance of the grave being dug beforehand, left
me no opportunity of cherishing any doubts I might have wished to
entertain; and everything which followed confirmed the view I then took
of the subject. When Harrel left me on the 22d I determined to go to
Malmaison to see Madame Bonaparte, knowing, from her sentiments towards
the House of Bourbon, that she would be in the greatest affliction. I
had previously sent to know whether it would be convenient for her to
see me, a precaution I had never before observed, but which I conceived
to be proper upon that occasion. On my arrival I was immediately
introduced to her boudoir, where she was alone with Hortense and Madame
de Rémusat. They were all deeply afflicted. "Bourrienne," exclaimed
Josephine, as soon as she perceived me, "what a dreadful event! Did you
but know the state of mind Bonaparte is in! He avoids, he dreads the
presence of every one! Who could have suggested to him such an act as