“My great principle was to guard against re-action, and to bury the past in oblivion. I never condemned any opinion, or proscribed any act. I was surrounded by the men who had voted for the death of Louis XVI.: they were in the Ministry, and in the Council of State. I did not approve of their doctrines; but what had I to do with them? what right had I to constitute myself their judge?” Some had been actuated by conviction, others by weakness and terror, and all by the delirium and fury of the moment. The fatality of the Greek tragedy was exemplified in the life of Louis XVI.”
I told the Emperor that it was reported in the Faubourg Saint-Germain that Sieyes had been detected in a conspiracy against him, in the affair of M. Clement de Ris; and that he (Napoleon) had pardoned him, on condition of his entirely withdrawing himself from any participation in political affairs. “This is another idle story, for which there is not the slightest foundation,” said the Emperor. “Sieyes was always attached to me, and I never had any cause to complain of him. He was probably vexed to find that I opposed his metaphysical ideas; but he was at length convinced that it was necessary for France to have a ruler, and he preferred me to any other. Sieyes was, after all, an honest and a very clever man: he did much for the Revolution.”
The Emperor mentioned that at one of the first public festivals that took place during the Consulate, as he was viewing the illuminations in company with Sieyes, he asked him what he thought of the state of affairs. Sieyes replied in a cold and even a disheartening tone. “And yet,” resumed Napoleon, “I had this morning very satisfactory proofs of the spirit of the people.”—“It is seldom,” replied Sieyes, “that the people shew their real spirit, when the man who is possessed of power presents himself to their gaze. I can assure you they are far from being satisfied.”—“Then you do not think the present government firmly established?”—“No.”—“And when do you suppose we shall be settled?“—“When I see the Dukes and Marquises of the old court in your ante-chamber.“—“Sieyes,” added the Emperor, “little dreamed that this would so soon be the case. He was short-sighted, and could not see very far before him. I thought, as he did, that all could not end with the Republic; but I foresaw the establishment of the Empire. Accordingly, two or three years afterwards, the circumstance I have just related being still fresh in my recollection, I said to Sieyes, at one of my grand audiences: Well, you are now pell-mell with all the old Dukes and Marquises; do you think all is settled now?”—“Oh, yes,” replied Sieyes, bowing profoundly; “you have wrought miracles, which were never before equalled, and which I never could have foreseen.”
During the Consulate, Napoleon was once standing in front of the Hotel de la Marine, viewing a public illumination. Beside him was a lady, who to all appearance had formerly moved in a distinguished sphere, accompanied by her daughter, a very pretty girl, to whom she was pointing out all the persons of note, as they passed to and fro in the apartments. Calling her daughter’s attention to a certain individual, she said: “Remind me to go and pay my respects to him some day. We ought to do so, for he has rendered us great service.” “But, mother,” replied the young lady, “I did not know that we were expected to shew gratitude to such people. I thought they were too happy in being able to oblige persons of our quality.” “Certainly,” said the Emperor, “La Bruyere would have turned this incident to good account.”
Napoleon sometimes went out in disguise early in the morning, traversing the streets of the capital alone, and mingling with the labouring classes of the people, with whose condition and sentiments he wished to make himself acquainted. In the Council of State I have often heard him advise the Prefect of Police to adopt this plan. He called it the Caliph system of police, and said he esteemed it to be the best.
On his return from the disastrous campaigns of Moscow and Leipsic, Napoleon, in order to maintain the appearance of confidence, frequently appeared amidst the multitude with scarcely any attendants. He visited the market-places, the faubourgs, and all the populous districts of the capital, conversing familiarly with the people; and he was every where received and treated with respect.
One day, at La Halle, a woman with whom he had been holding a little dialogue, bluntly told him he ought to make peace. “Good woman,” replied the Emperor, “sell your greens, and leave me to settle my affairs. Let every one attend to his own calling.” The bystanders laughed, and applauded him.
On another occasion, at the Faubourg Saint-Antoine, when surrounded by an immense concourse of people, whom he was treating very condescendingly, some one asked whether affairs were really as bad as they were represented to be? “Why, certainly,” replied the Emperor, “I cannot say that things are going on very well.” “But what will be the end of this?” “Heaven knows!” “Will the enemy enter France?” “Very possibly; and he may even march to Paris if you do not assist me. I have not a million of arms. I cannot do all by my own individual efforts.” “We will support you,” exclaimed a number of voices. “Then I shall beat the enemy, and preserve the glory of France.” “But what must we do?” “You must enlist and fight.” “We will,’ said one of the crowd; “but we must make a few conditions!” “What are they?” “We will not pass the frontier.” “You shall not be required to do so.” “We wish to serve in the guards,” said another. “You shall do so.” The air instantly resounded with acclamations. Registers were immediately opened, and two thousand men enlisted in the course of the day. Napoleon returned to the Tuileries; and, as he entered the Place Carousel on horseback, surrounded by the multitude, whose acclamations rent the air, it was supposed that an insurrection had broken out, and the gates were about to be closed.
On his return from the Island of Elba, the Emperor made another visit to the Faubourg Saint-Antoine, where he was received with equal enthusiasm, and conducted back to the palace in a similar manner. As he passed through the Faubourg Saint-Germain, the multitude who escorted him halted before the principal hotels, and manifested their disapprobation by angry words and gestures. The Emperor observed that he had scarcely ever been placed in so delicate a situation. “How many evils might have ensued,” said he, “had a single stone been thrown by the mob. Had a single imprudent word, or even an equivocal look, escaped me, the whole Faubourg might have been destroyed; and I am convinced that its preservation was to be attributed wholly to my presence of mind, and the respect which the multitude entertained for me.”
To-day I attended the Emperor at his toilet. Santini was cutting his hair, and a large tuft fell at my feet. I stooped to pick it up, and the Emperor, observing me, asked what I was doing. I replied that I had dropped something, upon which he smiled and pinched my ear: he guessed what I had picked up.