Memoirs of the Empress Josephine, Vol. 1 of 2

by Madame de Rémusat

“General Savary set out on the instant at full gallop, and, having joined Davoust, he gave orders to suspend all operations and remain quiet. It is to be hoped that the generosity of the Emperor of France on this occasion may not be so soon forgotten in Russia as was his sending back six thousand men to the Emperor Paul, with expressions of his esteem.

“General Savary had an hour’s conversation with the Emperor of Russia, and found him all that a man of good sense and good feeling ought to be, whatever reverses he may have experienced.

“The Emperor asked him about the details of the day. ‘You were inferior to me,’ he said, ‘and yet you were superior upon all the points of attack.’ ‘That, sire,’ answered the General, ‘is the art of war, and the fruit of fifteen years of glory. This is the fortieth battle the Emperor has fought.’ ‘True. He is a great warrior. As for me, this is the first time I have seen fighting. I have never had any pretension to measure myself with him.’ ‘When you have experience, sire, you may perhaps surpass him.’ ‘I shall now go away to my capital. I came to lend my aid to the Emperor of Austria; he has had me informed that he is content, and I am the same.’ ”

There was a good deal of speculation at that time as to what was the Emperor’s real reason for consenting to make peace after this battle, instead of pushing his victory further; for, of course, nobody believed in the motive which was assigned for it, i. e., the sparing of so many tears which must otherwise have been shed.

May we conclude that the day of Austerlitz had cost him so dear as to make him shrink from incurring another like it, and that the Russian army was not so utterly defeated as he would have had us believe? Or was it that again he had done as he himself expressed it, when he was asked why he had put an end to the march of victory by the treaty of Leoben: “I was playing at vingt-et-un, and I stopped short at vingt”? May we believe that Bonaparte, in his first year of empire, did not yet venture to sacrifice the lives of the people as ruthlessly as he afterward sacrificed them, and that, having entire confidence in M. de Talleyrand at that period, he yielded more readily to the moderate policy of his Minister? Perhaps, too, he believed that he had reduced the Austrian power by his campaign more than he really had reduced it; for he said, after his return from Munich, “I have left the Emperor Francis too many subjects.”

Whatever may have been his motives, he deserves praise for the spirit of moderation that he maintained in the midst of an army heated by victory, and which certainly was at that moment desirous of prolonging the war. The marshals and all the officers about the Emperor did everything in their power to induce him to carry on the campaign; they were certain of victory everywhere, and by shaking the purpose of their chief they created for M. de Talleyrand all the difficulties that he had foreseen. The Minister, summoned to headquarters, had to contend with the disposition of the army. He maintained, alone and unsupported, that peace must be concluded—that the Austrian power was necessary to the equilibrium of Europe; and it was then that he said, “When you shall have weakened all the powers of the center, how are you to hinder those of the extremities—the Russians, for instance—from falling upon them?” In reply to this he was met by private interests, by a personal and insatiable desire for the chances of fortune which the continuance of the war might offer; and certain persons, who knew the Emperor’s character well, said, “If even we do not put an end to this affair on the spot, you will see that we shall commence another campaign by and by.”

As for the Emperor himself, disturbed by this diversity of opinion, urged by his first love of war, and influenced by his habitual distrust, he allowed M. de Talleyrand to perceive that he suspected him of a secret understanding with the Austrian ambassador, and of sacrificing the interests of France. M. de Talleyrand answered with that firmness which he always maintains in great affairs, when he has taken a certain line: “You deceive yourself. My object is to sacrifice the interest of your generals, which is no concern of mine, to the interests of France. Reflect that you lower yourself by saying such things as they say, and that you are worthy to be something more than a mere soldier.” The Emperor was flattered by being praised at the expense of his former companions in arms; and by adroitness of this kind M. de Talleyrand succeeded in gaining his ends. At length he brought the Emperor to resolve on sending him to Presburg, where the negotiations were to take place; but it is a strange and probably unexampled fact that Bonaparte, while giving M. de Talleyrand powers to treat for peace, actually deceived him on a point of vital importance, and placed in his path the greatest difficulty that ever a negotiator had experienced.

On the occasion of the meeting of the two Emperors after the battle, the Emperor of Austria consented to relinquish the State of Venice; but he had demanded that the portion of the Tyrol conquered by Masséna should be restored to Austria, and Napoleon, no doubt affected in spite of his mastery over his emotions, and a little off his guard in the presence of this vanquished sovereign, who had come to discuss his interests in person on the battle-field where the bodies of his subjects who had fallen in his cause still lay, had not been able to maintain his inflexibility. He gave up the Tyrol; but no sooner had the interview come to an end than he repented of what he had done, and, when giving M. de Talleyrand details of the engagements to which he had pledged himself, he kept that one secret.

The Minister having set out for Presburg, Bonaparte returned to Vienna, and took up his abode in the palace at Schönbrunn. He occupied himself in reviewing his army, verifying his losses, and reforming each corps as it presented itself for inspection. In his pride and satisfaction in the results of the campaign, he was good-humored with everybody, behaved well to all those members of the Court who awaited him at Vienna, and took great pleasure in relating the wonders of the war.

On one point only did he exhibit displeasure. He was greatly surprised that his presence produced so little effect upon the Viennese, and that it was so difficult to induce them to attend the fêtes he provided for them, and the dinners at the palace to which he invited them. Bonaparte could not understand their attachment to a conquered sovereign—one, too, so much inferior to himself. One day he spoke quite openly about this to M. de Rémusat. “You have passed some time at Vienna,” he said, “and have had opportunities of observing them. What a strange people they are! They seem insensible alike to glory and to reverses.” M. de Rémusat, who had formed a high opinion of the Viennese, and admired their disinterested and loyal character, replied by praising them, and relating several instances of their attachment to their sovereign of which he had been an eye-witness. “But,” said Bonaparte, “they must sometimes have talked of me. What do they say?” “Sire,” answered M. de Rémusat, “they say, ‘The Emperor Napoleon is a great man, it is true; but our Emperor is perfectly good, and we can love none but him.’ ” These sentiments, which were all unchanged by misfortune, were incomprehensible to a man who recognized no merit except in success. When, after his return to Paris, he heard of the touching reception given by the Viennese to their vanquished Emperor, he exclaimed: “What people! If I came back to Paris thus, I should certainly not be received after that fashion.”