Memoirs of Napoleon Bonaparte — Complete
your honour to devote yourselves to the service of the Empire--to the
preservation of the integrity of the French territory--to the defence of
the Emperor, of the laws of the Republic, and of the property which they
have made sacred--to combat by all the means which justice, reason, and
the laws authorise every attempt to reestablish the feudal system; in
short, swear to concur with all your might in maintaining liberty and
equality, which are the bases of all our institutions. Do you swear?"
Each member of the Legion of Honour exclaimed, "I swear;" adding, "Vive
l'Empereur!" with an enthusiasm it is impossible to describe, and in
which all present joined.
What, after all, was this new oath? It only differed from that taken by
the Legion of Honour, under the Consulate, in putting the defence of the
Emperor before that of the laws of the Republic; and this was not merely
a form. It was, besides, sufficiently laughable and somewhat audacious,
to make them swear to support equality at the moment so many titles and
monarchical distinctions had been re-established.
On the 18th of July, three days after this ceremony, the Emperor left
Paris to visit the camp at Boulogne. He was not accompanied by the
Empress on this journey, which was merely to examine the progress of
the military operations. Availing myself of the invitation Josephine had
given me, I presented myself at St. Cloud a few days after the departure
of Napoleon; as she did not expect my visit, I found her surrounded by
four or five of the ladies in waiting, occupied in examining some of the
elegant productions of the famous Leroi and Madame Despeaux; for amidst
the host of painful feelings experienced by Josephine she was too much
of a woman not to devote some attention to the toilet.
On my introduction they were discussing the serious question of the
costume to be worn by the Empress on her journey to Belgium to meet
Napoleon at the Palace of Lacken, near Brussels. Notwithstanding
those discussions respecting the form of hats, the colour and shape of
dresses, etc., Josephine received me in her usual gracious manner.
But not being able to converse with me, she said, without giving it
an appearance of invitation but in a manner sufficiently evident to
be understood, that she intended to pass the following morning at
Malmaison.
I shortened my visit, and at noon next day repaired to that delightful
abode, which always created in my mind deep emotion. Not an alley, not a
grove but teemed with interesting recollections; all recalled to me the
period when I was the confidant of Bonaparte. But the time was past when
he minutely calculated how much a residence at Malmaison would cost, and
concluded by saying that an income of 30,000 livres would be necessary.
When I arrived Madame Bonaparte was in the garden with Madame de
Rémusat, who was her favourite from the similarity of disposition which
existed between them.
Madame de Rémusat was the daughter of the Minister Vergennes, and sister
to Madame de Nansouty, whom I had sometimes seen with Josephine, but
not so frequently as her elder sister. I found the ladies in the avenue
which leads to Ruel, and saluted Josephine by inquiring respecting the
health of Her Majesty. Never can I forget the tone in which she replied:
"Ah! Bourrienne, I entreat that you will suffer me, at least here, to
forget that I am an Empress." As she had not a thought concealed from
Madame de Rémusat except some domestic vexations, of which probably I
was the only confidant, we conversed with the same freedom as if alone,
and it is easy to define that the subject of our discourse regarded
Bonaparte.
After having spoken of her intended journey to Belgium, Josephine said
to me, "What a pity, Bourrienne, that the past cannot be recalled! He
departed in the happiest disposition: he has bestowed some pardons and I
am satisfied that but for those accursed politics he would have pardoned
a far greater number. I would have said much more, but I endeavoured to
conceal my chagrin because the slightest contradiction only renders him
the more obstinate. Now, when in the midst of his army, he will forget
everything. How much have I been afflicted that I was not able to obtain
a favourable answer to all the petitions which were addressed to me.
That good Madame de Monteason came from Romainville to St. Cloud to
solicit the pardon of MM. de Riviere and de Polignac; we succeeded in
gaining an audience for Madame de Polignac; . . . how beautiful she
is! Bonaparte was greatly affected on beholding her; he said to her,
'Madame, since it was only my life your husband menaced, I may pardon
him.' You know Napoleon, Bourrienne; you know that he is not naturally
cruel; it is his counsellors and flatterers who have induced him to
commit so many villainous actions. Rapp has behaved extremely well; he
went to the Emperor, and would not leave him till he had obtained the
pardon of another of the condemned, whose name I do not recollect. How
much these Polignacs have interested me! There will be then at least
some families who will owe him gratitude! Strive, if it be possible,
to throw a veil over the past; I am sufficiently miserable in my
anticipations of the future. Rest assured, my dear Bourrienne, that
I shall not fail to exert myself during our stay in Belgium in your
behalf, and inform you of the result. Adieu!"
During the festival in celebration of the 14th of July, which I have
already alluded to, the Emperor before leaving the Hotel des Invalides
had announced that he would go in person to distribute the decorations
of the Legion of Honour to the army assembled in the camp of Boulogne.
He was not long before he fulfilled his promise. He left St. Cloud on
the 18th and travelled with such rapidity that the next morning, whilst
every one was busy with preparations for his reception, he was already
at that port, in the midst of the labourers, examining the works. He
seemed to multiply himself by his inconceivable activity, and one might
say that he was present everywhere.
At the Emperor's departure it was generally believed at Paris that the
distribution of the crosses at the camp of Boulogne was only a pretext,
and that Bonaparte had at length gone to carry into execution the
project of an invasion of England, which every body supposed he
contemplated. It was, indeed, a pretext. The Emperor wished to excite
more and more the enthusiasm of the army--to show himself to the
military invested in his new dignity, to be present at some grand
manoeuvres, and dispose the army to obey the first signal he might give.
How indeed, on beholding such great preparations, so many transports
created, as it were, by enchantment, could any one have supposed that
he did not really intend to attempt a descent on England? People almost
fancied him already in London; it was known that all the army corps
echelloned on the coast from Maples to Ostend were ready to embark.
Napoleon's arrival in the midst of his troops inspired them, if
possible, with a new impulse. The French ports on the Channel had for a
long period been converted into dockyards and arsenals, where works were
carried on with that inconceivable activity which Napoleon knew so
well how to inspire. An almost incredible degree of emulation prevailed
amongst the commanders of the different camps, and it descended from
rank to rank to the common soldiers and even to the labourers.
As every one was eager to take advantage of the slightest effects of
chance, and exercised his ingenuity in converting them into prognostics
of good fortune for the Emperor, those who had access to him did not
fail to call his attention to some remains of a Roman camp which had
been discovered at the Tour d'Ordre, where the Emperor's tent was
pitched. This was considered an evident proof that the French Caesar
occupied the camp which the Roman Caesar had formerly constructed to
menace Great Britain. To give additional force to this allusion, the
Tour d'Ordre resumed the name of Caesar's Tower. Some medals of William
the Conqueror, found in another spot, where, perhaps, they had been
buried for the purpose of being dug up, could not fail to satisfy the
most incredulous that Napoleon must conquer England.
It was not far from Caesar's Tower that 80,000 men of the camps of
Boulogne and Montreuil, under the command of Marshal Soult, were
assembled in a vast plain to witness the distribution of the crosses
of the Legion of Honour impressed with the Imperial effigy. This plain,
which I saw with Bonaparte in our first journey to the coast, before
our departure to Egypt, was circular and hollow; and in the centre was
a little hill. This hill formed the Imperial throne of Bonaparte in the
midst of his soldiers. There he stationed himself with his staff and
around this centre of glory the regiments were drawn up in lines and
looked like so many diverging rays. From this throne, which had been
erected by the hand of nature, Bonaparte delivered in a loud voice the
same form of oath which he had pronounced at the Hotel des Invalides a
few days before. It was the signal for a general burst of enthusiasm,
and Rapp, alluding to this ceremony, told me that he never saw the
Emperor appear more pleased. How could he be otherwise? Fortune then
seemed obedient to his wishes. A storm came on during this brilliant
day, and it was apprehended that part of the flotilla would have
suffered.
Bonaparte quitted the hill from which he had distributed the crosses and
proceeded to the port to direct what measures should be taken, when upon
his arrival the storm--
--[The following description of the incident when Napoleon nearly
occasioned the destruction of the Boulogne flotilla was forwarded to
the 'Revue Politique et Litteraire' from a private memoir. The
writer, who was an eye-witness, says--
One morning, when the Emperor was mounting his horse, he announced
that he intended to hold a review of his naval forces, and gave the
order that the vessels which lay in the harbour should alter their
positions, as the review was to be held on the open sea. He started
on his usual ride, giving orders that everything should be arranged
on his return, the time of which he indicated. His wish was
communicated to Admiral Bruix, who responded with imperturbable
coolness that he was very sorry, but that the review could not take
place that day. Consequently not a vessel was moved. On his return
back from his ride the Emperor asked whether all was ready. He was
told what the Admiral had said. Twice the answer had to be repeated
to him before he could realise its nature, and then, violently
stamping his foot on the ground, he sent for the Admiral. The
Emperor met him halfway. With eyes burning with rage, he exclaimed
in an excited voice, "Why have my orders not been executed?" With
respectful firmness Admiral Bruix replied, "Sire, a terrible storm
is brewing. Your Majesty may convince yourself of it; would you
without need expose the lives of so many men?" The heaviness of the
atmosphere and the sound of thunder in the distance more than
justified the fears of the Admiral. "Sir, said the Emperor, getting
more and more irritated, "I have given the orders once more; why
have they not been executed? The consequences concern me alone.
Obey!" 'Sire, I will not obey,' replied the Admiral. "You are
insolent!" And the Emperor, who still held his riding-whip in his
hand, advanced towards the admiral with a threatening gesture.
Admiral Bruix stepped back and put his hand on the sheath of his
sword and said, growing very pale, "sire, take care!" The whole
suite stood paralysed with fear. The Emperor remained motionless