The Emperor surrounded himself with great Crown officers. He established a numerous household of chamberlains, equerries, &c. He selected persons to fill these offices indiscriminately from among those whom the Revolution had elevated, and from the ancient families which it had ruined. The former considered themselves as standing on ground which they had acquired; the latter on that which they thought they had recovered. The Emperor had in view, by this mixture of persons, the extinction of hatred and the amalgamation of parties. He observed, however, that it was easy to perceive a variety of manners. The individuals belonging to the ancient families performed their duties with the greatest courtesy and assiduity. A Madame de Montmorency would have stooped down to tie the Empress’s shoes; a lady of the new school would have hesitated to do this, lest she should be taken for a real waiting-woman; but Madame de Montmorency had no such apprehension. These posts of honour were for the most part without emolument; they were even attended with expense. But they brought the individuals who filled them daily under the eye of the Sovereign—of an all-powerful Sovereign, the source of honour and emoluments; and who had declared that he would not have the lowest officer in his household solicit a favour from any one but himself.
At the time of his marriage with the Empress Maria-Louisa, the Emperor made an extensive recruit of chamberlains from among the highest ranks of the old aristocracy; this he did with the view of proving to Europe that there existed but one party in France, and rallying round the Empress those individuals whose names must have been familiar to her. It is understood that the Emperor even hesitated whether or not to select the lady of honour from that class; but his fear lest the Empress, with whose character he was unacquainted, might be imbued with prejudices respecting birth, that might too much elate the old party, induced him to make another choice.
From this moment until the period of our disasters, the most ancient and illustrious families eagerly solicited places in the household of the Emperor; and how could it be otherwise? The Emperor governed the world: he had raised France and the French people above the level of other nations. Power, glory, constituted his retinue. Happy were they who inhaled the atmosphere of the Imperial Court. To be immediately connected with the Emperor’s person, furnished, both abroad and at home, a title to consideration, homage, and respect.
Upon the Restoration, a royalist, who had preserved himself pure, and in whose sight I had found grace, said to me, in the most serious tone, (for, what a difference in ideas does not difference of party produce!) that with my name, and the openness of conduct I had maintained, I ought not to despair of still obtaining a situation near the King, or in the household of some of the Princes or Princesses. How greatly was he astonished when I replied:—“My friend, I have rendered that impossible: I have served the most powerful master upon earth: I cannot in future, without degradation, stand in the same relation to any other. Know, that when we conveyed the orders of the Emperor to a distance, into foreign Courts, wearing his uniform, we considered ourselves, and were every where treated, as upon an equality with princes. He has presented to us the spectacle of not fewer than seven Kings waiting in his saloons, in the midst of us, and with us. On his marriage, four Queens bore the robe of the Empress, of whom, moreover, one of us was the Gentleman Usher, another the Equerry. Believe then, my friend, that a noble ambition is perfectly satisfied with such honours.”
Besides, the magnificence and splendour that composed this unexampled Court, rested on a system and a regularity of administration that has excited the astonishment and admiration of those who have searched amid its wrecks. The Emperor himself inspected the accounts several times in the course of the year. All his mansions were found to be repaired and decorated: they contained nearly forty millions in household furniture, besides four millions in plate. If he had enjoyed a few years of peace, imagination can scarcely fix limits, he said, to what he would have accomplished.
The Emperor said he had conceived an excellent idea, which he was much grieved at not having put in execution: it was to have commissioned some persons to collect the most important petitions. “They should have named, every day,” said he, “three or four individuals from the provinces, who would have been admitted to my levee, and have explained their business to me in person; I would have discussed it with them immediately, and administered justice to them without delay.”
I observed to the Emperor that the Commission he had created at a very early period, under the name of “Commission of Petitions,” came very near the idea in question, and was, in fact, productive of much good. I was President of it on his return from Elba, and in the first month I had already done justice to more than four thousand petitions. “It is true,” I observed, “that circumstances originally, and custom afterwards, had never allowed this establishment to enjoy the most valuable prerogative with which its organization had been endowed, that which would undoubtedly have produced the greatest effect on public opinion; namely to present to him officially, at his great audience on Sunday, the result of the week’s labours.” But the nature of things, the constant expeditions of the Emperor, and, above all, the jealousy of the Ministers, had concurred to deprive the Commission of this high privilege.
The Emperor said, also, he was sorry he had not established it as part of the etiquette of the Court that all persons who had been presented, females particularly, who had any claim to obtain an audience of him, should have the unquestioned right of entering the ante-chamber. The Emperor, passing through it several times in the day, might have taken the opportunity to satisfy some of their requests; and might in this manner have spared the refusal of audiences, or the loss of time occasioned by them. The Emperor had hesitated for some time, he said, about re-establishing the grand couvert of the kings of France, that is, the dining in public, every Sunday, of the whole Imperial family. He asked our opinion of it. We differed. Some approved of it, represented this family spectacle as beneficial to public morals, and fitted to produce the best[best] effects on public spirit; besides, said they, it afforded means for every individual to see his Sovereign. Others opposed it, objecting that this ceremony involved something of divine right and feudality, of ignorance and servility, which had no place in our habits or the modern dignity of them. They might go to see the Sovereign at the church or the theatre: there they joined at least in the performance of his religious duties, or took part in his pleasures; but to go to see him eat was only to bring ridicule on both parties. The sovereignty having now become, as the Emperor had so well said, a magistracy, should only be seen in full activity; conferring favours, redressing injuries, transacting business, reviewing armies, and above all, divested of the infirmities and the wants of human nature, &c.... Its utility, its benefits, should form its new charm: the image of the sovereign should be present continually and unlooked-for, like Providence. Such was the new school:—such had been ours.
“Well,” said the Emperor, “it may be true that the circumstances of the time should have limited this ceremony to the Imperial heir, and only during his youth; for he was the child of the whole nation; he ought to become thenceforth the object of the sentiments and the sight of all.”
On his return from Elba, the Emperor said he had an idea of dining every Sunday in the Galerie de Diane[Galerie de Diane] with four or five hundred guests: this, said he, would undoubtedly have produced a great effect on the public, particularly at the time of the Champ de Mai, on the assembling of the Deputies from the departments at Paris; but the rapidity and the importance of business prevented it. Besides, he was apprehensive, perhaps, that there might have been observed in this measure too great an affectation of popularity, and that his enemies abroad might give it the semblance of fear on his part.