Corvisart.—Anecdotes of the Saloons of Paris

21st.—The weather as horrible as ever.—We are seriously incommoded with the wet in our apartments; the rain penetrates every where.

The governor’s secretary brought me a letter from Europe; it afforded a few moments of real happiness; it contained the recollections and good wishes of my dearest friends. I went and read it to the Emperor.

The Emperor suffered seriously from the badness of the weather. He went to his saloon about four o’clock; he thought that he was feverish, and found himself much depressed; he called for some punch, and played a few games at chess with the grand marshal. The doctor is come from the town. The two vessels just arrived are from the Cape; one of them is the Podargus, which left Europe ten days after the Griffin; the other, a small frigate, on her way from India to Europe. There was, it was said, a letter for the Emperor Napoleon, but it was not delivered, and we did not know from whom it came.

After dinner it was said that the medicines in the island were exhausted, and it was remarked, that the Emperor could not be accused of having contributed to it. This led him to observe, that he did not recollect having ever taken any medicine. At the Tuileries, he had had three blisters at once, and even then he had not taken any. He received a serious wound at Toulon; it was, he said, like that of Ulysses, by which his old nurse knew him again; he had recovered altogether, without taking physic. One of us taking the liberty to say; “If your majesty had the dysentery to-morrow, would you still reject all kind of medicine?” The Emperor answered; “Now that I am tolerably well, I answer, yes, without hesitation; but if I were to be very ill, I should, perhaps, alter my mind, and should then feel that kind of conversion, which is produced on a dying man through the fear of the devil.” He again mentioned his incredulity in physic, but he did not think so, he said, of surgery. He had three times commenced a course of anatomy, but they had always been broken off by business and disgust. “On a certain occasion, and at the end of a long discussion, Corvisart, desirous of speaking to me, with his proofs in hand, was so abominably filthy as to bring a stomach, wrapped up in his pocket-handkerchief, to St. Cloud, and I was instantly compelled, at that horrible sight, to cast up all that I had in mine.”

The Emperor attempted, after dinner, to read a comedy, but he was so fatigued, and suffered so much, that he was forced to stop and retire about nine o’clock. He made me follow him, and as he felt no inclination to sleep, he said; “Come, my dear Las Cases, let us see; let us have a story about your fauxbourg Saint Germain, and let us endeavour to laugh at it, as if we were listening to the ThousandThousand and One Nights’!”—“Very well, Sire; there was, formerly, one of your Majesty’s chamberlains, who had a grand-uncle, who was very old, very old indeed, ... and I remember your Majesty telling us the story of a heavy German officer, who, taken prisoner at the opening of the campaign in Italy, complained that a young conceited fellow had been sent to command against them, who spoiled the profession, and made it intolerable. Well! we had precisely his likeness among us; it was the old grand-uncle, who was still dressed nearly in the costume of Louis XIV. He showed off, whenever you sent accounts of any extraordinary achievements on the other side of the Rhine; your bulletins of Ulm and Jena operated upon him like so many revulsions of bile. He was far from admiring you. You also spoiled the profession, in his opinion. He had, he frequently said, made the campaigns under Marshal de Saxe, which indeed were prodigies in war, and had not been sufficiently appreciated. ‘War was, no doubt, then an art; but now!!!’ he remarked, shrugging up his shoulders.... ‘In our time we carried on war with great decorum; we had our mules; we were followed by our canteens; we had our tents; we lived well; we had even plays performed at head-quarters; the armies approached each other; admirable positions were occupied; a battle took place; a siege was occasionally carried on, and afterwards we went into winter-quarters, to renew our operations in the spring. That is,’ he exclaimed, with exultation, ‘what may be called making war! But now, a whole army disappears before another in a single battle, and a monarchy is overturned; a hundred leagues are run over in ten days; as for sleeping and eating, they are out of the question. Truly, if you call that genius, I am, for my own part, obliged to acknowledge, that I know nothing about it; and, accordingly, you excite my pity, when I hear you call him a great man.’”

The Emperor burst into fits of laughter, particularly when the mules and canteens were mentioned. He then added; “You were of course accustomed to say a great many foolish things about me.”—“O yes, Sire, and in vast abundance.” “Very well! We are alone; nobody will intrude; tell me some more of them.” “A fine gentleman, who had formerly been a captain of cavalry, and who seemed perfectly satisfied with his own person and accomplishments, was introduced to a select society where I was present. ‘I come,’ he said, ‘from the Plain of Sablons. I have just seen our Ostrogoth manœuvre.’ That, Sire, was your Majesty. ‘He had two or three regiments, which he threw into confusion upon each other, and they were all lost in some bushes. I would have taken him and all his men prisoners with fifty maitres (formerly troopers) only. An usurped reputation!’ he exclaimed. ‘Accordingly, Moreau was always of opinion, that he would fail in Germany. A war with Germany is talked of; if it takes place, we shall see how he will get out of it. He will have justice done to him.’

“The war took place, and your Majesty sent us, in a very few days, the bulletin of Ulm, and that of Austerlitz; our fine gentleman again made his appearance in the same company, and for the moment, in spite of our malevolence, we could not help crying out all at once: ‘And your fifty maitres!’ ‘Oh! truly,’ said he, ‘it is impossible to comprehend the thing; this man triumphs over every obstacle: Fortune leads him by the hand, and, besides, the Austrians are so awkward; such fools!’”...

The Emperor laughed heartily, and wished for some anecdote still more absurd. “That would indeed, Sire, be very difficult to find. I recollect, however, an old dowager, who, to the day of her death, obstinately refused to give credit to any of your successes in Germany. When Ulm, Austerlitz, and your entrance into Vienna were mentioned in her presence:—‘So, you believe all that,‘ said she, shrugging up her shoulders. ‘It is all his fabrication. He would not presume to set a foot in Germany; be assured, that he is still behind the Rhine, where he is perishing from fear, and sends us those silly stories: you will learn, in time, that I am not to be imposed upon.’”

And these stories being over, the Emperor sent me away, saying: “What are they doing, what must they say, at present? I am certainly now giving them a fine opportunity.”

22nd.—This was a day of real mourning for me: it was the first, since our departure from France, in which I did not see the Emperor. I was the only one, in consequence of fortunate circumstances, who, until now, had enjoyed that happiness. His sufferings were great, and his seclusion complete. He did not ask to see a single person.