Removal of the Emperor’s Bed.—Anecdote of a Gascon Soldier.—The Guards of the Eagle

11th.—The Emperor continued unwell. I found him very low-spirited. He had ordered the situation of his bed to be changed—that bed, so long the constant companion of his victories, was now a couch of sickness. He complained that it was too small for him, that he could hardly turn himself in it; but his chamber would not have afforded room for a longer one. He ordered the camp-bed to be carried into his cabinet, and placed beside a couch; so that the two combined formed a bed of tolerable size. To what an extremity is he reduced! The Emperor stretched himself on his sofa, and entered into conversation, which revived him a little. Speaking of his accession to the Consulship, and of the dreadful disorders which he found existing in all the branches of the public service, he said that he had been compelled to adopt numerous measures of reform, which caused a great outcry, but which had not a little contributed to strengthen the bonds of society. These measures extended to the army, among the officers, and even among the generals, who, he said, had become such, Heaven knows how. Here I took the liberty to relate an anecdote which had at one time afforded great amusement to the circle in which I moved. One of my friends, (who was as dissatisfied with the then existing government as I was myself,) travelling in one of the small VersaillesVersailles diligences with a soldier of the guard, maliciously excited him to express his opinions. The man complained that every thing went wrong, because it was required that a soldier should know how to read and write before he could be advanced from the ranks. “So you see,” he exclaimed, “the tic has returned again.” This phrase pleased us, and was often repeated among us. “Well,” observed the Emperor, “what would your soldier have said when I created the Guards of the Eagle? That measure would, doubtless, have re-established me in his good opinion. I appointed two sub-officers to be the special guards of the Eagle in every regiment, one of whom was placed on either side of the standard; and, lest their ardour in the midst of the conflict might cause them to lose sight of the only object which they ought to have in view, namely, the preservation of the Eagle, they were prohibited from using the sabre or the sword: their only arms were a few braces of pistols; their only duty was coolly to blow out the brains of the enemy who might attempt to lay hands on the Eagle. But, before a man could obtain this post, he was required to prove that he could neither read nor write, and of course you guess the reason why.” “No, Sire.” “Why, simpleton! Every man who has received education is sure to rise in the army, but the soldier who has not these advantages, never attains advancement except by dint of courage and extraordinary circumstances.”

As I was in the humour for gossiping, I related another anecdote, which had also produced merriment in the saloons of Paris. It was said that, a regiment having lost its Eagle, Napoleon harangued the men on the subject, and expressed great indignation at the dishonour they had brought upon themselves by suffering their Eagle to be taken. “But we tricked the enemy,” exclaimed a Gascon soldier, “they have only got the staff, for here is the cuckoo in my pocket;” and he produced the Eagle. The Emperor laughed and said, “Well, I could not venture to affirm that this circumstance, or something very like it, did not actually take place. My soldiers were very much at their ease and made very free with me; often addressing me familiarly by the pronoun thou.”

I mentioned having heard that on the eve of the battle of Jena, or some other great engagement, as Napoleon was passing a particular station, accompanied by a very small escort, a soldier refused to let him pass, and, growing angry when the Emperor insisted on advancing, swore that he should not pass even though he were the Little Corporal himself. When the soldier ascertained that it was really the Little Corporal, he was not at all disconcerted. The Emperor observed, “That was because he felt the conviction of having done his duty; and indeed the fact is that I passed for a terrible tyrant in the saloons, and even among the officers of the army, but not among the soldiers: they possessed the instinct of truth and sympathy, they knew me to be their protector, and, in case of need, their avenger.”