His curiosity thus far satisfied, the Abbé de Pradt hastened to the hotel. In the yard stood three sledges in a dilapidated condition. One for the Emperor and Caulaincourt, the second for two officers of rank, the third for the Mameluke Rustan and another domestic. He was introduced with some mystery into a bad inn's bad room, where a servant wench was blowing a fire made of green wood. Here was the Emperor, whom the Abbé de Pradt had last seen when he played King of Kings among the assembled sovereigns of Dresden. He was dressed in a green pelisse, covered with lace and lined with furs, and, by walking briskly about the apartment, was endeavouring to obtain the warmth which the chimney refused. He saluted "Monsieur l'Ambassadeur," as he termed him, with gaiety. The abbé felt a movement of sensibility, to which he was disposed to give way, but, as he says, "The poor man did not understand me." He limited his expressions of devotion, therefore, to helping Napoleon off with his cloak. To us, it seems that Napoleon repelled the effusions of the Bishop of Maline's interest, because he did not choose to be the object either of his interest or his pity. He heard from his minister, that the minds of the inhabitants of the grand duchy had been much changed since they had been led to despair of the regeneration of their country; and that they were already, since they could not be free Polanders, studying how to reconcile themselves with their former governors of Prussia. The entrance of two Polish ministers checked the ambassador's communications. The conversation was maintained from that moment by Napoleon alone; or rather he indulged in a monologue, turning upon the sense he entertained that the failure of his Russian expedition would diminish his reputation, while he struggled against the painful conviction, by numbering up the plans by which he might repair his losses, and alleging the natural obstacles to which he had been obliged to succumb. "We must levy 10,000 Poles," he said, "and check the advance of these Russians. A lance and a horse are all that is necessary.—There is but a single step betwixt the sublime and the ridiculous."[228] The functionaries congratulated him on his escape from so many dangers. "Dangers!" he replied; "none in the world. I live in agitation. The more I bustle the better I am. It is for Kings of Cockaigne to fatten in their palaces—horseback and the fields are for me.—From the sublime to the ridiculous there is but a single step—Why do I find you so much alarmed here?"
"We are at a loss to gather the truth of the news about the army."
"Bah!" replied the Emperor; "the army is in a superb condition. I have 120,000 men—I have beat the Russians in every action—they are no longer the soldiers of Friedland and Eylau. The army will recruit at Wilna—I am going to bring up 300,000 men—Success will render the Russians fool-hardy—I will give them battle twice or thrice upon the Oder, and in a month I will be again on the Niemen—I have more weight when on my throne, than at the head of my army.—Certainly I quit my soldiers with regret; but I must watch Austria and Prussia, and I have more weight seated on my throne than at the head of my army. All that has happened goes for nothing—a mere misfortune, in which the enemy can claim no merit—I beat them every where—they wished to cut me off at the Beresina—I made a fool of that ass of an admiral"—(He could never pronounce the name Tchitchagoff)—"I had good troops and cannon—the position was superb—500 toises of marsh—a river"——This he repeated twice, then run over the distinction in the 29th bulletin between men of strong and feeble minds, and proceeded. "I have seen worse affairs than this—At Marengo I was beaten till six o'clock in the evening—next day I was master of Italy—At Essling, that archduke tried to stop me—He published something or other—My army had already advanced a league and a half—I did not even condescend to make any disposition. All the world knows how such things are managed when I am in the field. I could not help the Danube rising sixteen feet in one night—Ah! without that, there would have been an end of the Austrian monarchy. But it was written in Heaven that I should marry an archduchess." (This was said with an air of much gaiety.) "In the same manner, in Russia, I could not prevent its freezing. They told me every morning that I had lost 10,000 horses during the night. Well, farewell to you!" He bade them adieu five or six times in the course of the harangue, but always returned to the subject. "Our Norman horses are less hardy than those of the Russians—they sink under ten degrees of cold (beneath zero.) It is the same with the men. Look at the Bavarians; there is not one left. Perhaps it may be said that I stopped too long at Moscow; that may be true, but the weather was fine—the winter came on prematurely—besides, I expected peace. On the 5th October, I sent Lauriston to treat. I thought of going to St. Petersburgh, and I had time enough to have done so, or to have gone to the south of Russia, or to Smolensk. Well, we will make head at Wilna; Murat is left there. Ha, ha, ha! It is a great political game. Nothing venture, nothing win—It is but one step from the sublime to the ludicrous. The Russians have shown they have character—their Emperor is beloved by his people—they have clouds of Cossacks—it is something to have such a kingdom—the peasants of the crown love their government—the nobility are all mounted on horseback. They proposed to me to set the slaves at liberty, but that I would not consent to—they would have massacred every one. I made regular war upon the Emperor Alexander, but who could have expected such a blow as the burning of Moscow? Now they would lay it on us, but it was in fact themselves who did it. That sacrifice would have done honour to ancient Rome."
He returned to his favourite purpose of checking the Russians, who had just annihilated his grand army, by raising a large body of Polish lancers, to whom, as things stood, it would have been difficult to have proposed any adequate motive for exertion. The fire went out, and the counsellors listened in frozen despair, while, keeping himself warm by walking up and down, and by his own energies, the Emperor went on with his monologue; now betraying, in spite of himself, feelings and sentiments which he would have concealed; now dwelling upon that which he wished others to believe; and often repeating, as the burden of his harangue, the aphorism which he has rendered immortal, concerning the vicinity of the sublime and the ludicrous.
His passage through Silesia being mentioned, he answered in a doubtful tone, "Ha, Prussia?" as if questioning the security of that route. At length he decided to depart in good earnest; cut short the respectful wishes for the preservation of his health with the brief assurance, that he "could not be in better health were the very devil in him;" and threw himself into the humble sledge which carried Cæsar and his fortunes. The horses sprung forward, nearly overturning the carriage as it crossed the courtyard gate, and disappeared in the darkness. Such is the lively account of the Abbé de Pradt, who declares solemnly, that on taxing his memory to the utmost, he accuses himself of neither want of accuracy nor forgetfulness. Napoleon does not deny that such a long conversation took place, but alleges that the abbé has caricatured it. In the meanwhile, he said he scratched an order for Monsieur l'Ambassadeur to return immediately to Paris;[229] which, considering what had happened in Russia, and was about to happen in Poland, could not but be a most welcome mandate, especially as it was likely to be soon enforced by the lances of the Cossacks.
NAPOLEON LEAVES WARSAW.
Napoleon continued to pass on with as much speed as possible. He said, when at St. Helena, that he was nigh being arrested in Silesia.[230] "But the Prussians," he said, "passed the time in consulting which they ought to have employed in action. They acted like the Saxons, of whom Charles XII. said gaily, when he left Dresden, 'They will be deliberating to-day whether they should have arrested me yesterday.'" If such an idea was entertained by any one, it may have been by some of the Tugend-Bund, who might think it no crime to seize on one who made universal liberty his spoil. But we do not believe that Frederick ever harboured the thought, while he continued in alliance with France.
Meanwhile, Napoleon continued his journey in secrecy, and with rapidity. On the 14th December he was at Dresden, where he had a long private conference with the good old King, who did not feel his gratitude to the Emperor, as a benefactor, abated by his accumulated misfortunes. The interview—how different from their last—was held in the hotel where Buonaparte alighted, and where Augustus came to visit him incognito. On the 18th, in the evening, he arrived at Paris, where the city had been for two days agitated by the circulation of the Twenty-ninth Bulletin, in which the veil, though with a reluctant hand, was raised up to show the disasters of the Russian war.
It may not be thought minute to mention, that Napoleon and his attendant had difficulty in procuring admittance to the Tuileries at so late an hour. The Empress had retired to her private apartment. Two figures muffled in furs entered the anteroom, and one of them directed his course to the door of the Empress's sleeping chamber. The lady in waiting hastened to throw herself betwixt the intruder and the entrance, but, recognising the Emperor, she shrieked aloud, and alarmed Maria Louisa, who entered the anteroom. Their meeting was extremely affectionate, and showed, that, amidst all his late losses, Napoleon had still domestic happiness within his reach.