Books: The Private Life of Napoleon Bonaparte, v11

C >> Constant >> The Private Life of Napoleon Bonaparte, v11

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

This etext was produced by David Widger

[NOTE: There is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the
file for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making an
entire meal of them. D.W.]

RECOLLECTIONS OF THE PRIVATE LIFE OF NAPOLEON, V11

By CONSTANT

PREMIER VALET DE CHAMBRE

TRANSLATED BY WALTER CLARK

1895

CHAPTER XV.

During the second day of the battle of Dresden, at the end of which the
Emperor had the attack of fever I mentioned in the preceding chapter, the
King of Naples, or rather Marshal Murat, performed prodigies of valor.
Much has been said of this truly extraordinary prince; but only those who
saw him personally could form a correct idea of him, and even they never
knew him perfectly until they had seen him on a field of battle. There
he seemed like those great actors who produce a complete illusion amid
the fascinations of the stage, but in whom we no longer find the hero
when we encounter them in private life. While at Paris I attended a
representation of the death of 'Hector' by Luce de Lancival, and I could
never afterwards hear the verses recited in which the author describes
the effect produced on the Trojan army by the appearance of Achilles
without thinking of Prince Murat; and it may be said without exaggeration
that his presence produced exactly this effect the moment he showed
himself in front of the Austrian lines. He had an almost gigantic
figure, which alone would have sufficed to make him remarkable, and in
addition to this sought every possible means to draw attention to
himself, as if he wished to dazzle those who, might have intended to
attack him. His regular and strongly marked features, his handsome blue
eyes rolling in their orbits, enormous mustaches, and black hair falling
in long ringlets over the collar of a kurtka with narrow sleeves, struck
the attention at first sight. Add to this the richest and most elegant
costume which one would wear even at the theater,--a Polish coat richly
embroidered, and encircled by a gilded belt from which hung the scabbard
of a light sword, with a straight and pointed blade, without edge and
without guard; large amaranth-colored pantaloons embroidered in gold on
the seams, and nankeen boots; a large hat embroidered in gold with a
border of white feathers, above which floated four large ostrich plumes
with an exquisite heron aigrette in the midst; and finally the king's
horse, always selected from the strongest and handsomest that could be
found, was covered with an elegantly embroidered sky-blue cloth which
extended to the ground, and was held in place by a Hungarian or Turkish
saddle of the richest workmanship, together with a bridle and stirrups
not less magnificent than the rest of the equipment. All these things
combined made the King of Naples a being apart, an object of terror and
admiration. But what, so to speak, idealized him was his truly
chivalrous bravery, often carried to the point of recklessness, as if
danger had no existence for him. In truth, this extreme courage was by
no means displeasing to the Emperor; and though he perhaps did not always
approve of the manner in which it was displayed, his Majesty rarely
failed to accord it his praise, especially when he thought necessary to
contrast it with the increasing prudence shown by some of his old
companions in arms.

On the 28th the Emperor visited the battlefield, which presented a
frightful spectacle, and gave orders that everything possible should be
done to alleviate the sufferings of the wounded, and also of the
inhabitants and peasants who had been ravaged and pillaged, and their
fields and houses burned, and then ascended the heights from which he
could follow the course of the enemy's retreat. Almost all the household
followed him in this excursion. A peasant was brought to him from
Nothlitz, a small village where the Emperor Alexander and the King of
Prussia had their headquarters during the two preceding days. This
peasant, when questioned by the Duke of Vicenza, said he had seen a great
personage brought into Nothlitz, who had been wounded the evening before
on the staff of the allies. He was on horseback, and beside the Emperor
of Russia, at the moment he was struck. The Emperor of Russia appeared
to take the deepest interest in his fate. He had been carried to the
headquarters of Nothlitz on lances of the Cossacks interlaced, and to
cover him they could find only a cloak wet through with the rain. On his
arrival at Nothlitz the Emperor Alexander's surgeon came to perform the
amputation, and had him carried on an extending chair to Dippoldiswalde,
escorted by several Austrian, Prussian, and Russian detachments.

On learning these particulars the Emperor was persuaded that the Prince
von Schwarzenberg was the person in question. "He was a brave man," said
he; "and I regret him." Then after a silent pause, "It is then he,"
resumed his Majesty, "who is the victim of the fatality! I have always
been oppressed by a feeling that the events of the ball were a sinister
omen, but it is very evident now that it was he whom the presage
indicated."

While the Emperor gave himself up to these conjectures, and recalled his
former presentiments, prisoners who were brought before his Majesty had
been questioned; and he learned from their reports that the Prince von
Schwarenzberg had not been wounded, but was well, and was directing the
retreat of the Austrian grand army. Who was, then, the important
personage struck by a French cannonball? Conjectures were renewed on
this point, when the Prince de Neuchatel received from the King of Saxony
a collar unfastened from the neck of a wandering dog which had been found
at Nothlitz. On the collar was written these words, "I belong to General
Moreau." This furnished, of course, only a supposition; but soon exact
information arrived, and confirmed this conjecture.

Thus Moreau met his death the first occasion on which he bore arms
against his native country,--he who had so often confronted with impunity
the bullets of the enemy. History has judged him severely; nevertheless,
in spite of the coldness which had so long divided them, I can assert
that the Emperor did not learn without emotion the death of Moreau,
notwithstanding his indignation that so celebrated a French general could
have taken up arms against France, and worn the Russian cockade. This
unexpected death produced an evident effect in both camps, though our
soldiers saw in it only a just judgment from Heaven, and an omen
favorable to the Emperor. However that may be, these are the
particulars, which I learned a short time after, as they were related by
the valet de chambre of General Moreau.

The three sovereigns of Russia, Austria, and Prussia had been present on
the 27th at the battle on the heights of Nothlitz, but had retired as
soon as they saw that the battle was lost. That very day General Moreau
was wounded by a cannon-ball near the intrenchments in front of Dresden,
and about four o'clock in the afternoon was conveyed to Nothlitz, to the
country house of a merchant named Salir, where the Emperors of Austria
and Russia had established their headquarters. Both limbs of the general
were amputated above the knee. After the amputation, as he requested
something to eat and a cup of tea, three eggs were brought him on a
plate; but he took only the tea. About seven o'clock he was placed on a
litter, and carried to Passendorf by Russian soldiers, and passed the
night in the country house of M. Tritschier, grand master of forests.
There he took only another cup of tea, and complained greatly of the
sufferings he endured. The next day, the 28th of August, at four o'clock
in the morning, he was conveyed, still by Russian soldiers, from
Passendorf to Dippodiswalde, where he took a little white bread and a
glass of lemonade at the house of a baker named Watz. An hour after he
was carried nearer to the frontiers of Bohemia, borne by Russian soldiers
in the body of a coach taken off the wheels. During the entire route he
incessantly uttered cries which the extremity of his sufferings drew from
him.

These are the details which I learned in regard to Moreau; and, as is
well known, he did not long survive his wound. The same ball which broke
both his legs carried off an arm from Prince Ipsilanti, then aide-de-camp
to the Emperor Alexander; so that if the evil that is done can be
repaired by the evil received, it might be said that the cannon-shot
which tore away from us General Kirgener and Marshal Duroc was this day
sent back on the enemy. But alas! it is a sad sort of consolation that
is drawn from reprisals.

It may be seen from the above, and especially from the seemingly decisive
benefits arising from the battle of Dresden, that since the resumption of
hostilities, in every place where our troops had been sustained by the
all-powerful presence of the Emperor, they had obtained successes; but
unfortunately this was not the case at points distant from the main line
of operations. Nevertheless, seeing the allies routed by the army which
he commanded in person, and certain, moreover, that General Vandamme had
held the position which he had indicated to him through General Haxo, his
Majesty returned to his first idea of marching on Berlin, and already
even had disposed his troops with this intention, when the fatal news
arrived that Vandamme, the victim of his own rashness, had disappeared
from the field of battle, and his ten thousand men, surrounded on all
sides, and overwhelmed by numbers, had been cut to pieces. It was
believed that Vandamme was dead, and it was not until later we learned
that he had been taken prisoner with a part of his troop. It was learned
also that Vandamme, incited by his natural intrepidity, and unable to
resist a desire to attack the enemy whom he saw within his grasp, had
left his intrenchments to make the attack. He had conquered at first,
but when after his victory he attempted to resume his former position he
found it occupied, as the Prussians had seized it; and though he fought
with all the abandon of despair, it was all in vain, and General Kleist,
proud of this fine trophy, conducted him in triumph to Prague. It was
while speaking of this audacious attack of Vandamme that the Emperor used
this expression, which has been so justly admired, "For a retreating
enemy it is necessary to make a bridge of gold, or oppose a wall of
brass." The Emperor heard with his usual imperturbability the
particulars of the loss he had just experienced, but nevertheless
repeatedly expressed his astonishment at the deplorable recklessness of
Vandamme, and said he could not comprehend how this experienced general
could have allowed himself to be drawn away from his position. But the
deed was done, and in such instances the Emperor never lost time in
useless recriminations. "Come," said he, addressing the Duke of Bassano,
"you have just heard--that means war from early in the morning until late
in the evening."

After giving various orders to the army and his chiefs, the Emperor left
Dresden on the evening of the 3d of September, with the intention of
regaining what he had lost from the audacious imprudence of General
Vandamme. But this defeat, the first we had sustained since the
resumption of hostilities, became the forerunner of the long series of
reverses which awaited us. It might have been said that victory, having
made one last effort in our favor at Dresden, had finally grown weary;
for the remainder of the campaign was but a succession of disasters,
aggravated by treachery of every description, and ending in the horrible
catastrophe at Leipzig. Before leaving Dresden we had learned of the
desertion to the enemy of a Westphalian regiment, with arms and baggage.

The Emperor left Marshal Saint-Cyr in Dresden with thirty thousand men,
with orders to hold it to the last extremity, since the Emperor wished to
preserve this capital at any price. The month of September was spent in
marches and countermarches around this city, with no events of decided
importance. Alas! the Emperor was never again to see the garrison of
Dresden. Circumstances becoming still more embarrassed, imperiously
demanded that his Majesty should promptly oppose some obstacle to the
progress of the allies. The King of Saxony, furnishing an example of
fidelity rare among kings, determined to accompany the Emperor, and
entered his carriage in company with the queen and the Princess Augusta,
having the headquarters' staff as escort. Two days after his departure
the Saxon troops joined the French army at Eilenburg, on the banks of the
Mulda. The Emperor exhorted these allies, whom he believed faithful, to
maintain the independence of their country, pointed out to them how
Prussia was threatening Saxony, and endeavoring to acquire her most
beautiful provinces, and reminded them of the proclamation of their
sovereign, his worthy and faithful ally; finally he spoke to them in the
name of military honor, urging them, in closing, to take it always as
their guide, and to show themselves worthy rivals of the soldiers of the
grand army with whom they had made common cause, and beside whom they
were now about to fight. The words of the Emperor were translated and
repeated to the Saxons by the Duke of Vicenza; and this language from the
lips of one whom they regarded as the friend of their sovereign and the
saviour of their capital seemed to produce a profound impression. The
march was then begun in confidence, with no premonition of the
approaching defection of these very men who had so often greeted the
Emperor with their cries of enthusiasm, swearing to fight to the death
rather than abandon him.

His Majesty's plan then was to fall on Blucher and the Prince Royal of
Sweden, from whom the French army was separated only by a river. We
therefore left Eilenburg, where the Emperor parted with the King of
Saxony and his family, the Duke of Bassano, the grand park of artillery,
and all the conveyances, and directed our course towards Duben. Blucher
and Bernadotte had retired, leaving Berlin uncovered. Then the Emperor's
plans became known; and it was seen that he was marching on Berlin, and
not on Leipzig, and that Diiben was only the meeting-place for the various
corps, who, when united, were to march on the capital of Prussia, which
the Emperor had already seized twice.

The time was unfortunately past when a simple indication of the Emperor's
plans was regarded as a signal of victory. The chiefs of the army, who
had until now been perfectly submissive, began to reflect, and even took
the liberty of disapproving of plans which they were afraid to execute.
When the army became aware of the Emperor's intention to march on Berlin,
it was the signal for almost unanimous discontent. The generals who had
escaped the disasters of Moscow, and the dangers of the double campaign
in Germany, were fatigued, and perhaps eager to reap the benefits of
their good fortune, and at last to enjoy repose in the bosom of their
families. A few went so far as to accuse the Emperor of being anxious to
still extend the war. "Have there not been enough killed?" said they,
"Must we all share the same fate?" And these complaints were not kept
for secret confidences, but were uttered publicly, and often even loud
enough to reach the ears of the Emperor; but in that case his Majesty
seemed not to hear.

Amidst this disaffection of a large number of the chiefs of the army, the
defection of Bavaria was learned, and gave an added strength to the
anxiety and discontent inspired by the Emperor's resolution; and then
occurred what had never taken place before: his staff united their
entreaties that he should abandon his plans in regard to Berlin, and
march on Leipzig. I saw how much the Emperor suffered from the necessity
of listening to such remonstrances, notwithstanding the respectful
language in which they were couched. For two entire days his Majesty
remained undecided; and how long these forty-eight hours were! Never did
abandoned cabin or bivouac present a more mournful sight than the sad
chateau of Duben. In this doleful residence I saw the Emperor for the
first time entirely unemployed; the indecision to which he was a prey
absorbed him so entirely that his character seemed entirely changed. Who
could believe it? To the activity which drove him on, and, so to speak,
incessantly devoured him, had succeeded a seeming indifference which is
perfectly indescribable. I saw him lie on the sofa nearly a whole day,
the table before him covered with maps and papers at which he did not
even glance, and with no other occupation for hours than slowly tracing
large letters on sheets of white paper. This was while he was
vacillating between his own will and the entreaties of his generals.
At the end of two days of most painful suspense he yielded; and from that
time all was lost. How much better it would have been had he not
listened to their complaints, but had again allowed himself to be guided
by the presentiments which possessed him! He repeated often, with grief,
while recalling the concessions he made at that time, "I should have
avoided many disasters by continuing to follow my own impulses; I failed
only by yielding to those of others."

The order for departure was given; and as if the army felt as much pride
in triumphing over the will of its Emperor as they would have felt in
beating the enemy by obeying the dictates of his genius, they abandoned
themselves to outbursts of joy which were almost beyond reason. Every
countenance was radiant. "We shall now," they repeated on all sides, "we
shall now see France again, embrace our children, our parents, and our
friends!" The Emperor and Marshal Augereau alone did not share the
general light-heartedness. The Duke of Castiglione had just arrived at
headquarters, after having in some measure avenged on the army of
Bohemia, Vandamme's defeat. He, like the Emperor, had dark presentiments
as to the consequences of this retrograde movement, and knew that
desertions on the way would add to the number of the enemy, and were so
much the more dangerous since these deserters had so recently been our
allies and knew our positions. His Majesty yielded with a full
conviction of the evil which would result; and I heard him at the end of
a conversation with the marshal which had lasted more than an hour, utter
these words, "They would have it so."

The Emperor on his march to Duben was at the head of a force which might
be estimated at one hundred and twenty-five thousand men. He had taken
this direction with the hope of finding Blucher again on the Mulda; but
the Prussian general had recrossed the river, which contributed much to
give credit to a rumor which had been circulated for some time. It was
said that in a council of the allied sovereigns held recently at Prague,
and at which Moreau and the Prince Royal of Sweden were present, it had
been agreed that as far as possible they should avoid engaging in a
battle whenever the Emperor commanded his army in person, and that
operations should be directed only against smaller bodies commanded by
his lieutenants. It is impossible, certainly, to render more striking
homage to the superiority of the Emperor's genius; but it was at the same
time stopping him in his glorious career, and paralyzing his usually all-
powerful action.

However that may be, the evil genius of France having obtained the
ascendency over the good genius of the Emperor, we took the road to
Leipzig, and reached it early on the morning of the 15th of October. At
that very moment the King of Naples was in the midst of an engagement
with the Prince von Schwarzenberg; and his Majesty, on hearing the sound
of cannon, crossed the town, and visited the plain where the engagement
was taking place. On his return he received the royal family of Saxony,
who had come to join him. During his short stay at Leipzig, the Emperor
performed an act of clemency which must undoubtedly be considered most
meritorious if we take into consideration the gravity of the
circumstances in which we were placed. A merchant of this city named
Moldrecht was accused and convicted of having distributed among the
inhabitants, and even in the army, several thousand copies of a
proclamation in which the Prince Royal of Sweden invited the Saxons to
desert the cause of the Emperor. When arraigned before a tribunal of
war, M. Moldrecht could not exculpate himself; and, indeed, this was an
impossibility, since several packages of the fatal proclamation had been
found at his residence. He was condemned to death, and his family in
deep distress threw themselves at the feet of the King of Saxony; but,
the facts being so evident and of such a nature that no excuse was
possible, the faithful king did not dare to grant indulgence for a crime
committed even more against his ally than against himself. Only one
recourse remained for this unhappy family, which was to address the
Emperor; but as it was difficult to reach him, M. Leborgne D'Ideville,
interpreting secretary, was kind enough to undertake to place a note on
the Emperor's desk, who after reading it ordered a postponement which was
equivalent to a full pardon. Events followed in their course, and the
life of M. Moldrecht was saved.

Leipzig, at this period, was the center of a circle in which engagements
took place at numerous points and almost incessantly. Engagements lasted
during the days of the 16th, 17th, and 18th; and his Majesty, as a poor
return for his clemency towards M. Moldrecht, reaped the bitter fruits of
the proclamation which had been scattered in every direction through the
efforts of this merchant. On that day the Saxon army deserted our cause,
and reported to Bernadotte. This left the Emperor a force of only one
hundred and ten thousand men, with an opposing force of three hundred and
thirty thousand; so that if when hostilities were resumed we were only as
one to two, we were now only one to three. The day of the 18th was, as
is well known, the fatal day. In the evening the Emperor, seated on a
folding stool of red morocco in the midst of the bivouac fires, was
dictating to the Prince of Neuchatel his orders for the night, when two
commanders of artillery were presented to his Majesty, and gave him an
account of the exhausted condition of the ammunition chests. In five
days we had discharged more than two hundred thousand cannon-balls, and
the ammunition being consequently exhausted there was barely enough left
to maintain the fire for two hours longer; and as the nearest supplies
were at Madgeburg and Erfurt, whence it would be impossible to obtain
help in time, retreat was rendered absolutely necessary.

Orders were therefore given for a retreat, which began next day, the
19th, at the end of a battle in which three hundred thousand men had
engaged in mortal combat, in a confined space not more than seven or
eight leagues in circumference. Before leaving Leipzig, the Emperor gave
to. Prince Poniatowski, who had just earned the baton of a marshal of
France, the defense of one of the faubourgs. "You will defend the
faubourg on the south," said his Majesty to him. "Sire," replied the
prince, "I have very few men."--"You will defend it with those you have."
"Ah, Sire, we will remain; we are all ready to die for your Majesty."
The Emperor, moved by these words, held out his arms to the prince, who
threw himself into them with tears in his eyes. It was really a farewell
scene, for this interview of the prince with the Emperor was their last;
and soon the nephew of the last king of Poland found, as we shall soon
see, a death equally as glorious as deplorable under the waves of the
Elster.

[Prince Joseph Anthony Poniatowski, born at Warsaw, 1762. Nephew
of Stanislas Augustus, the last king of Poland. He commanded the
Polish army against Russia, 1792, and served under Kosciuszko, 1794.
He led an army of Poles under Napoleon, 1807 and 1809, and commanded
a corps in the Russian campaign. Had Napoleon succeeded in that
campaign, Poniatowski would have been made king of Poland. Wounded,
and made a marshal at Liepzig, he was drowned on the retreat.]

At nine o'clock in the morning the Emperor took leave of the royal family
of Saxony. The interview was short, but distressing and most
affectionate on the part of each.

The king manifested the most profound indignation at the conduct of his
troops. "I could never have imagined it," said he; "I thought better of
my Saxons; they are only cowards;" and his grief was so intense that the
Emperor, notwithstanding the immense disadvantage which had accrued to
him from the desertion of the Saxons during the battle, sought to console
this excellent prince.

As his Majesty urged him to quit Leipzig in order that he might not be
exposed to the dangers attending the capitulation which had now become
absolutely necessary, this venerable prince replied, "No; you have
already done enough, and it is carrying generosity too far to risk your
person by remaining a few minutes longer in order to console us." Whilst
the King of Saxony was expressing himself thus, the sound of heavy firing
of musketry was heard, and the queen and Princess Augusta joined their
entreaties to those of the monarch, in their excessive fright already
seeing the Emperor taken and slain by the Prussians. Some officers
entered, and announced that the Prince Royal of Sweden had already forced
the entrance of one of the faubourgs; that General Beningsen, General
Blucher, and the Prince von Swarzenberg were entering the city on every
side; and that our troops were reduced to the necessity of defending
themselves from house to house, and the Emperor was himself exposed to
imminent peril. As there was not a moment to lose, he consented at.
last to withdraw; and the King of Saxony escorted him as far as the foot
of the palace staircase, where they embraced each other for the last
time.

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7