Memoirs of Napoleon Bonaparte — Complete
and to entrust him with missions for which no precise instructions were
given, in the hope that Bernadotte would commit faults for which the
First Consul might make him wholly responsible.
At the commencement of the Consulate the deplorable war in La Vendée
raged in all its intensity. The organization of the Chouans was
complete, and this civil war caused Bonaparte much more uneasiness than
that which he was obliged to conduct on the Rhine and in Italy, because,
from the success of the Vendeans might arise a question respecting
internal government, the solution of which was likely to be contrary to
Bonaparte's views. The slightest success of the Vendeans spread alarm
amongst the holders of national property; and, besides, there was no
hope of reconciliation between France and England, her eternal and
implacable enemy, as long as the flame of insurrection remained
unextinguished.
The task of terminating this unhappy struggle was obviously a difficult
one. Bonaparte therefore resolved to impose it on Bernadotte; but this
general's conciliatory disposition, his chivalrous manners, his tendency
to indulgence, and a happy mixture of prudence and firmness, made him
succeed where others would have failed. He finally established good
order and submission to the laws.
Some time after the pacification of La Vendée a rebellious disposition
manifested itself at Tours amongst the soldiers of a regiment stationed
there. The men refused to march until they received their arrears of
pay. Bernadotte, as commander-in-chief of the army of the west,
without being alarmed at the disturbance, ordered the fifty-second
demi-brigade-- the one in question--to be drawn up in the square of
Tours, where, at the very head of the corps, the leaders of the mutiny
were by his orders arrested without any resistance being offered. Carnot
who was then Minister of War, made a report to the First Consul on
this affair, which, but for the firmness of Bernadotte, might have been
attended with disagreeable results. Carnet's report contained a plain
statement of the facts, and of General Bernadotte's conduct. Bonaparte
was, however, desirous to find in it some pretext for blaming him,
and made me write these words on the margin of the report: "General
Bernadotte did not act discreetly in adopting such severe measures
against the fifty-second demi-brigade, he not having the means, if he
had been unsuccessful, of re-establishing order in a town the garrison
of which was not strong enough to subdue the mutineers."
A few days after, the First Consul having learned that the result of
this affair was quite different from that which he affected to dread,
and being convinced that by Bernadotte's firmness alone order had been
restored, he found himself in some measure constrained to write to the
General, and he dictated the following letter to me:
PARIS, 11th Vendemiaire. Year XI.
CITIZEN-GENERAL--I have read with interest the account of what you
did to re-establish order in the fifty-second demi-brigade, and
also the report of General Liebert, dated the 5th Vendemiaire.
Tell that officer that the Government is satisfied with his conduct.
His promotion from the rank of Colonel to that of General of brigade
is confirmed. I wish that brave officer to come to Paris. He has
afforded an example of firmness and energy which does honour to a
soldier.
(Signed) BONAPARTE.
Thus in the same affair Bonaparte, in a few days, from the spontaneous
expression of blame dictated by hate, was reduced to the necessity of
declaring his approbation, which he did, as may be seen, with studied
coldness, and even taking pains to make his praises apply to Colonel
Liebert, and not to the general-in-chief.
Time only served to augment Bonaparte's dislike of Bernadotte. It might
be said that the farther he advanced in his rapid march towards absolute
power the more animosity he cherished against the individual who had
refused to aid his first steps in his adventurous career. At the same
time the persons about Bonaparte who practised the art of flattering
failed not to multiply reports and insinuations against Bernadotte. I
recollect one day, when there was to be a grand public levee, seeing
Bonaparte so much out of temper that I asked him the cause of it. "I can
bear it no longer," he replied impetuously. "I have resolved to have a
scene with Bernadotte to-day. He will probably be here. I will open the
fire, let what will come of it. He may do what he pleases. We shall see!
It is time there should be an end of this."
I had never before observed the First Consul so violently irritated. He
was in a terrible passion, and I dreaded the moment when the levee was
to open. When he left me to go down to the salon I availed myself of
the opportunity to get there before him, which I could easily do, as the
salon was not twenty steps from the cabinet. By good luck Bernadotte was
the first person I saw. He was standing in the recess of a window which
looked on the square of the Carrousel. To cross the salon and reach
the General was the work of a moment. "General!" said I, "trust me and
retire!--I have good reasons for advising it!" Bernadotte, seeing my
extreme anxiety, and aware of the sincere sentiments of esteem end
friendship which I entertained for him, consented to retire, and I
regarded this as a triumph; for, knowing Bernadotte's frankness of
character and his nice sense of honour, I was quite certain that he
would not submit to the harsh observations which Bonaparte intended to
address to him. My stratagem had all the success I could desire. The
First Consul suspected nothing, and remarked only one thing, which was
that his victim was absent. When the levee was over he said to me, "What
do you think of it, Bourrienne?---Bernadotte did not come."--"So much
the better for him, General," was my reply. Nothing further happened.
The First Consul on returning from Josephine found me in the cabinet,
and consequently could suspect nothing, and my communication with
Bernadotte did not occupy five minutes. Bernadotte always expressed
himself much gratified with the proof of friendship I gave him at this
delicate conjuncture. The fact is, that from a disposition of my mind,
which I could not myself account for, the more Bonaparte'a unjust hatred
of Bernadotte increased the more sympathy and admiration I felt for the
noble character of the latter.
The event in question occurred in the spring of 1802. It was at this
period that Bonaparte first occupied St. Cloud, which he was much
pleased with, because he found himself more at liberty there than at the
Tuileries; which palace is really only a prison for royalty, as there a
sovereign cannot even take the air at a window without immediately being
the object of the curiosity of the public, who collect in large crowds.
At St. Cloud, on the contrary, Bonaparte could walk out from his cabinet
and prolong his promenade without being annoyed by petitioners. One of
his first steps was to repair the cross road leading from St. Cloud to
Malmaison, between which places Bonaparte rode in a quarter of an hour.
This proximity to the country, which he liked, made staying at St. Cloud
yet pleasanter to him. It was at St. Cloud that the First Consul made,
if I may so express it, his first rehearsals of the grand drama of
the Empire. It was there he began to introduce, in external forms,
the habits and etiquette which brought to mind the ceremonies of
sovereignty. He soon perceived the influence which pomp of ceremony,
brilliancy of appearance, and richness of costume, exercise over the
mass of mankind. "Men," he remarked to me a this period, "well deserve
the contempt I feel for them. I have only to put some gold lace on the
coats of my virtuous republicans and they immediately become just what I
wish them."
I remember one day, after one of his frequent sallies of contempt for
human kind, I observed to him that although baubles might excite
vulgar admiration, there were some distinguished men who did not permit
themselves to be fascinated by their allurements; and I mentioned the
celebrated Fox by way of example, who, previous to the conclusion of the
peace of Amiens, visited Paris, where he was remarked for his extreme
simplicity. The First Consul said, "Ah! you are right with respect to
him. Mr. Fox is a truly great man, and pleases me much."
In fact, Bonaparte always received Mr. Fox's visits with the greatest
satisfaction; and after every conversation they had together he never
failed to express to me the pleasure which he experienced in discoursing
with a man every way worthy of the great celebrity he had attained. He
considered him a very superior man, and wished he might have to treat
with him in his future negotiations with England. It may be supposed
that Mr. Fox, on his part, never forgot the terms of intimacy, I may say
of confidence, on which he had been with the First Consul. In fact, he
on several occasions informed him in time of war of the plots formed
against his life. Less could not be expected from a man of so noble
a character. I can likewise affirm, having more than once been in
possession of proofs of the fact, that the English Government constantly
rejected with indignation all such projects. I do not mean those
which had for their object the overthrow of the Consular or Imperial
Government, but all plans of assassination and secret attacks on the
person of Bonaparte, whether First Consul or Emperor. I will here
request the indulgence of the reader whilst I relate a circumstance
which occurred a year before Mr. Fox's journey to Paris; but as it
refers to Moreau, I believe that the transposition will be pardoned more
easily than the omission.
During the summer 1801 the First Consul took a fancy to give a grand
military dinner at a restaurateur's. The restaurateur he favoured with
his company was Veri, whose establishment was situated on the terrace
of the Feuillans with an entrance into the garden of the Tuileries.
Bonaparte did not send an invitation to Moreau, whom I met by chance
that day in the following manner:--The ceremony of the dinner at Veri's
leaving me at liberty to dispose of my time, I availed myself of it
to go and dine at a restaurateur's named Rose, who then enjoyed great
celebrity amongst the distinguished gastronomes. I dined in company
with M. Carbonnet, a friend of Moreau's family, and two or three other
persons. Whilst we were at table in the rotunda we were informed by the
waiter who attended on us that General Moreau and his wife, with Lacuee
and two other military men, were in an adjoining apartment. Suchet, who
had dined at Veri's, where he said everything was prodigiously dull, on
rising from the table joined Moreau's party. These details we learned
from M. Carbonnet, who left us for a few moments to see the General and
Madame Moreau.
Bonaparte's affectation in not inviting Moreau at the moment when the
latter had returned a conqueror from the army of the Rhine, and at the
same time the affectation of Moreau in going publicly the same day to
dine at another restaurateur's, afforded ground for the supposition that
the coolness which existed between them would soon be converted into
enmity. The people of Paris naturally thought that the conqueror of
Marengo might, without any degradation, have given the conqueror of
Hohenlinden a seat at his table.
By the commencement of the year 1802 the Republic had ceased to be
anything else than a fiction, or an historical recollection. All that
remained of it was a deceptive inscription on the gates of the Palace.
Even at the time of his installation at the Tuileries, Bonaparte had
caused the two trees of liberty which were planted in the court to be