But how could we for a moment endure this thought! Death was preferable to separation from him whom we served, admired, and loved; to whom we daily became more and more attached, through his personal qualities, and the miseries which injustice and hatred had accumulated upon him. This was the real state of the question. In these distressing circumstances, we knew not what determination to adopt. I closed my letter by stating that, if left to myself alone, I would sign, without scruple, any thing that the Governor might present to me; and that, if a collective resolution were taken, I would implicitly adopt it.
The Governor had now found out a method of attacking us in detail: he declared his intention of removing any individual of Napoleon’s suite according to his will and caprice.
The Emperor was indisposed: the Doctor has observed incipient scurvy. He desired me to attend him, and we conversed on the subjects which chiefly occupied our attention at the moment. He wanted something to amuse him, and he took up the chapter of Leoben, which happened to be beside him. When he had finished reading it, the conversation turned on the conferences which brought about the treaty of Campo-Formio. I refer to the chapters on that subject for the portrait and character of the first Austrian negotiator, M. de Cobentzel, whom Napoleon surnamed the “great northern bear,” on account of the influence which, he said, his heavy paw had exercised on the green table of the conferences.
“M. de Cobentzel was at that time,” said the Emperor, “the agent of the Austrian monarchy, the main spring of its plans, and the director of its diplomacy. He had been appointed on all the principal European embassies, and had been long at the Court of Catharine, whose peculiar favour he enjoyed. Proud of his rank and importance, he doubted not that his dignified and courtly manners would easily overawe a General who had just issued from the revolutionary camp. Thus,” observed Napoleon, “he shewed a want of respect in addressing the French General; but the first words uttered by the latter sufficed to reduce him to his proper level, above which he never afterwards attempted to rise.”
The conferences at first proceeded very slowly; for M. de Cobentzel, according to the custom of the Austrian Cabinet, proved himself very skilful in the art of retarding business. The French General, however, determined to bring matters to an issue: the conference, which he had declared should be the last, was maintained with great warmth. Napoleon came, resolved to have a decisive answer to his propositions; they were rejected. He then rose in a fit of passion, and exclaimed energetically: “You wish for war then?—You shall have it:” and laying his hands on a magnificent piece of porcelain (which M. de Cobentzel used with great complacency to boast of having received as a present from the great Catharine), he dashed it with all his force on the ground, where it was broken into a thousand pieces. “There,” he exclaimed, “such, I promise you, will be the fate of your Austrian monarchy in less than three months:” and[months:” and] so saying, he rushed out of the apartment. M. de Cobentzel stood petrified; but M. de Gallo, who was of a more conciliatory temper, followed the French General to his carriage, endeavouring to detain him. “He almost dragged me back by main force,” said the Emperor, “and with so pitiable an air, that, in spite of my apparent anger, I could not refrain from laughing in my sleeve.”
M. de Gallo was the ambassador from Naples to Vienna, whither he had conducted the Neapolitan Princess, the second wife of the Emperor Francis. He possessed the full confidence of the Princess, and she, in her turn, ruled her husband: thus the ambassador enjoyed great influence at the Court of Vienna. When the army of Italy, marching on Vienna, dictated the armistice of Leoben, the Empress, at this critical juncture, cast her eyes on her confident, and charged him to avert the danger. He was to gain an interview with the French General, as if accidentally, and to endeavour to prevail on him to accept his services as a negotiator. Napoleon, who was well acquainted with every circumstance, determined to turn his knowledge to a good account. Accordingly, on receiving M. de Gallo, he inquired who he was. The favourite courtier, disconcerted to find himself under the necessity of telling his name, replied that he was the Marquess de Gallo, and that he had been charged by the Emperor of Austria to make overtures to Napoleon. “But,” said the latter, “your name is not German.” “True,” replied M. de Gallo,” I am the Neapolitan ambassador.” “And how happens it,” said Napoleon drily, “that I have to treat with Naples? We are at peace. Has the Emperor of Austria no negotiators of the old school? Is the old aristocracy of Vienna extinct?” M. de Gallo, alarmed at the idea of such observations being officially communicated to the Cabinet of Vienna, now became intent on ingratiating himself into the favour of the young General.
Napoleon enquired what news had been received from Vienna, and spoke of the armies of the Rhine, the Sambre, and the Meuse. He obtained all the intelligence he could; and, when he was about to withdraw, M. de Gallo, in the most suppliant tone, inquired whether he might hope to be accepted as a negotiator, and whether he should proceed to Vienna to obtain full powers. Napoleon had no wish to decline this proposal; he had gained an advantage which he was not willing to lose. M. de Gallo, who subsequently became ambassador from Naples to the First Consul, and also ambassador from Joseph to the Emperor Napoleon, frequently mentioned this scene, and frankly avowed that he had never been so frightened in the whole course of his life.
In the French negotiations, Clarke acted the same kind of secondary part which M. de Gallo maintained with regard to Austria. “Clarke,” said the Emperor, “had been sent to Italy by the Directory, which had begun to consider me as dangerous. He was charged with an ostensible and public mission; but he had secret orders to keep an eye upon me, and to ascertain if, in case of necessity, it would be possible to arrest me. But little reliance could have been placed on the officers of my army, in an affair of this kind, and therefore the first inquiries were addressed to the Cisalpine Directory. The answer was that it would be as well to spare trouble on this point, and to give up all idea of it. As soon as I was made acquainted with Clarke’s real instructions, I frankly told him all I knew; at the same time assuring him that I should concern myself but very little about any reports that might be made. He was soon convinced of this. When, on his mission to Austria, he was dismissed, by that Power, I offered to find employment for him, and he afterwards remained with me; though perhaps there was, in reality, but little sympathy between us. I should undoubtedly have again taken him into my service, after my return, if I had found him in the ranks along with the rest. You know that I could not easily rid myself of those to whom I had become accustomed: when people had once embarked with me, I could never prevail on myself to throw them overboard. Nothing but absolute necessity could force me to such a course. Clarke’s chief merit was that of being a good man of business.”
After Brumaire, Clarke naturally came in contact with the First Consul as his aid-de-camp, &c. There was then little etiquette observed at the palace; the duties were not distinctly separated, and the whole presented a kind of family circle. The officers immediately connected with the Consul dined at a general table. Clarke, who was extremely susceptible and punctilious, got involved in quarrels with one of these persons. The circumstance having reached the ears of the First Consul, he appointed Clarke ambassador to Florence, to the court of the Queen of Etruria. This post was in itself highly agreeable; but Clarke had been appointed to it by way of disgrace. He urgently solicited his recal; and, at length, to his great satisfaction, he received an order to return to France. But his punishment was not yet at an end. The First Consul took but little notice of him: he sent him to the Tuileries, to St. Cloud, and to the camp of Boulogne, without explaining his intentions, or granting him any thing. Clarke, in despair, told one of his friends that he had no alternative but to throw himself into the Seine, as he could no longer endure the contempt to which he was exposed, added to the mortification of being deprived of his situation. Just at this time he was unexpectedly made Secretary of the Topographical Cabinet, Councillor of State, and appointed to some other posts, which altogether produced him a salary of 60 or 80,000 francs. This was Napoleon’s way: his first favour was usually followed immediately by several others. In these cases his bounty was overwhelming. But it was necessary to take advantage of the interval of favour; it might be endless, or it might be instantly and irretrievably lost.
I knew General Clarke well; he had been my comrade at the Military School. He informed me that, some days before the battle of Jena, the Emperor, from whose dictation he had just written numerous orders and instructions, entering into a familiar conversation, while he walked up and down his chamber, said: “In three or four days I will fight a battle, which I shall gain: it will bring me at least as far as the Elbe, and perhaps to the Vistula. There I will fight a second battle, which I shall also gain. Then ... then ...,” said he, with a meditative air, and placing his hand on his forehead ... “but that is enough; it is useless to invent romances,—Clarke, in a month you will be Governor of Berlin; and history will record that, in the space of one year, and in two different wars, you were Governor of Vienna and Berlin; that is to say, of the Austrian and Prussian monarchies. By the bye,” continued he, smiling, “what did Francis give you for governing his capital?”—“Nothing at all, Sire.”—“How, nothing at all?—That was hard indeed! Well, in that case, I must pay his debt.” And he gave him, as far as I can recollect, a sum sufficient to purchase an hotel in Paris, or a country house in the vicinity of the capital.