These papers contained many details relating to the trial of Marshal Ney, which was at that time in progress. With reference to this, the Emperor said that the horizon was gloomy; that the unfortunate Marshal was certainly in great danger; but that we must not however despair. “The King undoubtedly believes himself quite sure of the Peers,” said he; “they are certainly violent enough, firmly resolved, highly incensed; but for all that, suppose the slightest incident, some new rumour, or I know not what: then you would see, in spite of all the efforts of the King, and of what they believe to be the interest of their cause, the Chamber of Peers would, all on a sudden, take it into their heads not to find him guilty; and thus Ney may be saved.”
This led the Emperor to dilate upon our volatile, fickle, and changeable disposition. “All the French,” said he, “are turbulent, and disposed to rail; but they are not addicted to seditious combinations, still less to actual conspiracy. Their levity is so natural to them, their changes so sudden, that it may be said to be a national dishonour. They are mere weathercocks, the sport of the winds, it is true; but this vice is with them free from the calculations of interest, and that is their best excuse. But we must only be understood to speak here of the mass, of that which constitutes public opinion; for individual examples to the contrary have swarmed in our latter times, that exhibit certain classes in the most disgusting state of meanness.”
It was this knowledge of the national character, the Emperor continued, that had always prevented his having recourse to the High Court. It was instituted by our Constitution; the Council of State had even decreed its organization; but the Emperor felt all the danger of the bustle and agitation that such spectacles always produce. “Such a proceeding,” he said, “was in reality an appeal to the public, and was always highly injurious to authority, when the accused gained the cause. A Ministry in England might sustain, without inconvenience, the effects of a decision against it under such circumstances; but a sovereign like me, and situated as I was, could not have suffered it without the utmost danger to public affairs: for this reason, I preferred having recourse to the ordinary tribunals. Malevolence often started objections to this; nevertheless, among all those whom it was pleased to call victims, which of them, I ask you, has retained his popularity in our late struggles? They have taken care to justify me: all of them are faded in the national estimation.”
The Emperor had reserved one article in the papers, that he might have my assistance in reading it; it referred to the carriage he lost at Waterloo: the great number of technical expressions rendered it too difficult for him. The editor gave a very circumstantial account of this carriage, with a minutely detailed inventory of all its contents; to this he sometimes added the most frivolous reflections. In mentioning a small liquor-case, he observed that the Emperor never forgot himself, but took care to want nothing; in noticing certain elegant appendages to his dressing-case, he added that it might be seen he made his toilet comme il faut (the expression was in French). These last words produced a sensation in the Emperor, which certainly would not have been excited by a more important subject. “How!” said he to me, with a mixture of disgust and pain; “these people of England, then, take me for some wild animal; have they really been led so far as this? or their ——, who is a kind of Ox Apis, as I am assured, does he not pay that attention to his toilet that is considered proper by every person of any education among us?”
It is certain that I should have been a good deal puzzled to explain to him the writer’s meaning. Besides, it is known that the Emperor, of all people in the world, set the least value on his personal convenience, and studied it the least; but, on the other hand, and he acknowledged it with pleasure, there never was one for whom the devotion and attention of servants had been so diligent in that particular. As he ate at very irregular hours, they contrived, in the course of his journeys and campaigns, to have his dinner, similar to what he was accustomed to at the Tuileries, always ready within a few paces of him. He had but to speak, and he was instantly served; he himself said it was magic. During fifteen years he constantly drank a particular sort of Burgundy (Chambertin), which he liked and believed to be wholesome for him: he found this wine provided for him throughout Germany, in the remotest part of Spain, everywhere, even at Moscow; and it may truly be said that art, luxury, the refinement of elegance and good taste, contended around him, as if without his knowledge, to afford him gratification. The English journalists, therefore, described a multitude of objects that were undoubtedly in the carriage; but of which the Emperor had not the slightest notion: not that he was at all surprised at it, he observed.
The bad weather which continued to confine us within doors, had no influence on the disposition of the Emperor, who at this particular time seemed more unreserved and talked more than usual. He spoke at length, and with the most minute details, of the famous interview at Dresden. The following are extracts from his conversation:—
This was the epoch when the power of Napoleon was at its height: he there appeared as the king of kings; he was actually obliged to observe that some attention ought to be paid to the Emperor of Austria, his father-in-law. Neither this Sovereign nor the King of Prussia had any household establishment attending them; Alexander had none either at Tilsit or Erfurt. There, as at Dresden, they lived at Napoleon’s table.—“These Courts,” said the Emperor, “were paltry and vulgar.” It was he who regulated the etiquette, and took the lead in them; he made Francis take precedence of him, to his unbounded satisfaction. The luxury and magnificence of Napoleon must have made him appear to them like an Asiatic prince: there, as well as at Tilsit, he loaded all who came near him with diamonds. We informed him that at Dresden he had not a single French soldier about him: and that his Court was sometimes not without apprehensions for the safety of his person. He could scarcely believe us;—but we assured him that it was a fact; that the Saxon body-guard was the only one he had. “It is all one,” he said; “I was then in so good a family, with such worthy people, that I ran no risk; I was beloved by all; and, at this very time, I am sure the good King of Saxony repeats every day a Pater and an Ave for me.” He added, “I ruined the fortunes of that poor Princess Augusta, and I acted very wrong in so doing. Returning from Tilsit, I received, at Marienwerder, a chamberlain of the King of Saxony, who delivered me a letter from his master; he wrote thus: ‘I have just received a letter from the Emperor of Austria, who desires my daughter in marriage; I send this to you, that you may inform me what answer I ought to return.’—‘I shall be at Dresden in a few days,’” was the reply of the Emperor; and, on his arrival, he set his face against the match, and prevented it. “I was very wrong,” repeated he; “I was fearful the Emperor Francis would withdraw the King of Saxony from me: on the contrary, the Princess Augusta would have brought over the Emperor Francis to my side, and I should not now have been here.”
At Dresden, Napoleon was much occupied in business, and Maria-Louisa, anxious to avail herself of the smallest intervals of leisure to be with her husband, scarcely ever went out, lest she should miss them. The Emperor Francis, who did nothing, and tired himself all day with going about the town, could not at all comprehend this family seclusion; he fancied that it was to affect reserve and importance. The Empress of Austria endeavoured to prevail on Maria-Louisa to go out; she represented to her that her constant assiduity was ridiculous. She would willingly have given herself the airs of a step-mother with Maria-Louisa, who was not disposed to suffer it, their ages being nearly the same. She came frequently in the morning to her toilet, ransacking among the luxurious and magnificent objects displayed there: she seldom went out empty-handed.
“The reign of Maria-Louisa was very short,” said the Emperor; “but it must have been full of enjoyment for her; she had the world at her feet.” One of us took the liberty to ask if the Empress of Austria was not the sworn enemy of Maria-Louisa. “Nothing more,” said the Emperor, “than a little regular court-hatred; a thorough detestation in the heart, but glossed over by daily letters of four pages, full of coaxing and tenderness.”
The Empress of Austria was particularly attentive to Napoleon, and took great pains to make much of him while he was present; but no sooner was his back turned, than she endeavoured to detach Maria-Louisa from him by the most mischievous and malicious insinuations; she was vexed that she could not succeed in obtaining some influence over her. “She has, however, address and ability,” said the Emperor, “and that sufficient to embarrass her husband, who had acquired a conviction that she entertained a poor opinion of him. Her countenance was agreeable, engaging, and had something very peculiar in it; she was a pretty little nun.