THE EMPEROR INDISPOSED.—HIS FIRST DAY OF COMPLETE SECLUSION.—THE PERSIAN AND TURKISH AMBASSADORS.—ANECDOTES.
29th.—About five o’clock the Grand Marshal visited me in my chamber. He had not been permitted to see the Emperor, who through indisposition had been confined to his own apartment all day, and refused to see any one. Towards evening I went out to take a stroll in those paths in which the Emperor usually walked about this time. I felt dull, being alone. We had dined without the Emperor.
About nine o’clock, just as I was regretting that the day had passed over without my seeing him, he sent for me. I expressed my concern for his indisposition. He replied that he was perfectly well, but that he had taken a fancy to remain alone; that he had been reading all day, and that the time had passed away swiftly and agreeably.
He however appeared low-spirited and languid. He took my Atlas, which happened to be lying beside him, and, opening it at the map of the world, he cast his eye on Persia. “I had some excellent plans, with regard to that country,” said he. “What a capital point of support would it have been for my lever, whether I wished to disturb Russia, or to invade India. I had set on foot relations with Persia, and I hoped to bring them to the point of intimacy, as well as those with Turkey. It might have been supposed that the animals would have understood their own interests sufficiently well to have acceded to my propositions; but both Persians and Turks evaded me at the decisive moment. English gold proved more powerful than my plans. Some treacherous ministers, for a few guineas, sacrificed the prosperity of their country: which is usually the case under seraglio monarchs or imbecile kings.”
The Emperor then, abandoning politics, began to relate some anecdotes of the seraglio, and adverted to the Persians of Montesquiou, and his letters, which he said were distinguished for wit, delicate observations, and above all, for bitter satire on the time. He afterwards spoke of the Turkish and Persian Ambassadors who were in Paris during his reign. He asked me what impression they produced in the French capital; whether they paid visits, and received company, &c.
I replied that, during their stay in Paris, they engrossed public attention, and formed a kind of raree-show at Court. The Persian in particular attracted curiosity. On his arrival, he willingly received visitors, and as he made presents of perfumes and even shawls, he was a great favourite with the ladies. But the great number of those who paid their court to him soon forced him to set bounds to his liberality, and, thenceforward, the rage being over, he was no longer thought of. I added, that at Court, when the Emperor was not present, we sometimes ventured, very inconsiderately to be sure, to play off tricks at the expense of the oriental Ambassadors. At a concert given one day by the Empress Josephine, Asker-Kan, with his long painted beard, was one of the company. He seemed to be heartily tired of the music, and fell asleep standing with his back against a wall, his feet thrust forward and resting against an arm chair which stood in the corner by the fire-place. Some one, by way of joke, drew the chair away softly, so that his Excellency had well nigh fallen down at full length on the floor, and being thus roused from his slumber, he roared out lustily. Asker-Kan could more readily enter into a joke than the Turkish Ambassador; but, on this occasion he was in a great passion, and as we could only understand each other by gestures, the scene was most ludicrous. In the evening, the Empress enquired the cause of the noise which she had heard during the concert; and when the circumstance was explained to her, she laughed a good deal and scolded us still more. “It was very wrong, certainly,” observed the Emperor; “but what business had he at the concert?”—"Sire," I replied, “both he and the Turkish Ambassador went thither with the view of paying court to you. They hoped that your Majesty would be apprized of the circumstance, though you were at that time five hundred leagues off.” I added that on other occasions they had both proved themselves accomplished courtiers, and that their wish to ingratiate themselves with the Emperor carried them to the most extravagant lengths. “We have often seen them,” said I, “at the close of the grand diplomatic audiences on Sunday, follow your Majesty to mass, and occupy the pews in the chapel along with Cardinals of the Holy Catholic Church.”—"What a monstrous spectacle!" exclaimed the Emperor. “What a subversion of their principles and habits!—What extraordinary things I brought about; and yet all this was neither ordered nor perceived.”
The conversation continuing on the two orientals, I mentioned that I had been informed the Arch-chancellor Cambacérès once gave them a grand dinner. Though both from the same quarter, and members of the same religion, yet they nevertheless evinced shades of character totally different. The Turk, who was a disciple of Omar, was the Jansenist, and the Persian, who was a sectary of Ali, was the Jesuit. It was said that, at Cambacérès’ dinner, they scrupulously watched each other with regard to the wine, just as two Catholic Bishops seated at the same table might be expected to keep a vigilant look out, lest either should be tempted to eat meat on a Friday.
The Turk was gloomy and ignorant, and was looked upon as little better than a brute; but the Persian possessed literary information, was very talkative, and had the reputation of being a clever man. It was observed that he made no use of a knife and fork, either in eating or helping himself to any dish at table; and he probably would not have hesitated to help his neighbours in the same unceremonious way. One of our customs particularly attracted his notice; this was our practice of eating bread with every dish. He said he could not conceive why we were obliged always to eat the same article with every thing.
I believe I have already remarked that nothing amuses the Emperor so much as accounts of the fashionable world in Paris, anecdotes of our drawing-rooms, &c.
The Emigrants and the Faubourg St. Germain were subjects on which he was always fond of conversing with me when we were alone, and he accounted for this by saying to me once, “I was well acquainted with every thing that had relation to myself, but I never knew any thing of those affairs.” He observed, that he had nevertheless a natural desire to learn every thing that was passing near him, and to hear the chit-chat of little towns, &c. “I heard a great deal on these subjects,” added he, “during the period of my power; but whenever any thing favourable was said, I put myself on my guard—I was fearful of insinuations; and if, on the contrary, any thing unfavourable was reported to me, I mistrusted the accusation, and had enough to do to guard against a feeling of contempt. Here, my dear Las Cases, none of these disadvantages exist; you and I already belong to the other world; we are conversing in the Elysian fields: you are without interested views, and I am without suspicion.” I therefore eagerly seized every opportunity that offered itself to entertain the Emperor in this way. He perceived this, and gave me credit for my intentions; for, at the conclusion of one of my stories, he pinched my ear, and said, in a tone of voice which delighted me: “I read a story in your Atlas of a Northern Monarch who was immured in a prison, and one of his soldiers solicited and obtained permission to be imprisoned with him, in order that he might cheer his spirits, either by inducing him to converse, or by relating amusing stories to him. My dear Las Cases, you are that soldier.”...
On the present occasion I described to the Emperor the hoax which had been played upon M. de Marbois, and which he had not heard of before. It was as follows: one day, as the story goes, Asker-Kan, who was indisposed, and tired of his Persian treatment, gave orders to send for M. Bourdois, one of the first physicians in Paris. The messenger made a mistake, and went to M. de Marbois, Ex-minister of the Treasury, and at that time President of the Court of Accounts.—"His Excellency the Persian Ambassador," said he, “is very ill, and wishes to see you.” M. de Marbois could not conceive what business the Persian Ambassador could possibly have with him: but Asker-Kan was the envoy of a great Prince, and there is nothing which vanity will not contrive to reconcile. He proceeded with great pomp to the Ambassador’s residence; and it must be allowed that there was nothing in his dress, physiognomy, or deportment, at all likely to undeceive the Persian, who, as soon as he saw him, thrust out his tongue, and stretching forth his arm, motioned him to feel his pulse. These extraordinary gestures astonished M. de Marbois, but he thought they might be some oriental fashion. He took the hand which was offered, and pressed it cordially, when four attendants entered with solemnity, and presented to the Ex-minister a vessel of a very unequivocal nature, for his better information on the state of the patient. At this spectacle, the grave M. de Marbois flew into a violent passion, and asked what was the meaning of this extraordinary behaviour. The mistake was explained; it was M. Bourdois who had been wanted, and the similarity in the sound of the two names had alone occasioned the error. Poor M. de Marbois was the laughing-stock of Paris, and for a long time he could not show his face any where without exciting merriment.
“The drawing-rooms of Paris are indeed tremendous with their jokes!” said the Emperor, “for it cannot be denied that they are for the most part pointed and witty. They always assail the enemy at the breach, and a total defeat is the usual consequence.”—"It is true," said I, “nothing was spared. Even religion was not held sacred, and your Majesty may well suppose that neither you nor the Empress escaped.”—"I dare say not," replied the Emperor, “but no matter; what was said of us?”—“It was reported. Sire, that one day your Majesty, being much dissatisfied at the perusal of a despatch from Vienna, said to the Empress, in a moment of ill-humour, Your father is a blockhead (votre père est une ganache). Maria Louisa, who was unacquainted with many French phrases, turned to the person nearest her, and, observing that the Emperor had called her Father a ganache, asked what the term meant. The courtier, embarrassed at this unexpected interrogatory, stammered out that the word signified a clever man, a man of judgment, and extraordinary talent. Some time afterwards, the Empress, with her newly learnt term fresh in her memory, was present at the Council of State, and the discussion, becoming somewhat warm, in order to put a stop to it, she called on M. Cambacérès, who was yawning by her side....—‘You must set us right on this important point,’ said she, ‘you shall be our oracle; for I consider you as the greatest ganache in the Empire.’” At these words the Emperor held his sides with laughter. “What a pity,” said he, “that this anecdote is not true! Only imagine the scene. The offended dignity of Cambacérès, the merriment of the whole council, and the embarrassment of poor Maria Louisa, alarmed at the success of her unconscious joke.”
The conversation continued for a long time in this way, and I spent about two hours with the Emperor; I had exerted myself to talk as much as I possibly could to divert him, and I had succeeded. The Emperor felt his spirits revived, he even enjoyed a hearty laugh. When he dismissed me, he felt much better, and I was happy at the change.