|
On August 25, the eve of the battle of Borodino, M. de Beausset,
prefect of the French Emperor's palace, arrived at Napoleon's
quarters at Valuevo with Colonel Fabvier, the former from Paris
and the latter from Madrid.
Donning his court uniform, M. de Beausset ordered a box he
had brought for the Emperor to be carried before him and entered
the first compartment of Napoleon's tent, where he began opening
the box while conversing with Napoleon's aides-de-camp who surrounded
him.
Fabvier, not entering the tent, remained at the entrance talking
to some generals of his acquaintance.
The Emperor Napoleon had not yet left his bedroom and was
finishing his toilet. Slightly snorting and grunting, he presented
now his back and now his plump hairy chest to the brush with which
his valet was rubbing him down. Another valet, with his finger
over the mouth of a bottle, was sprinkling Eau de Cologne on the
Emperor's pampered body with an expression which seemed to say
that he alone knew where and how much Eau de Cologne should be
sprinkled. Napoleon's short hair was wet and matted on the forehead,
but his face, though puffy and yellow, expressed physical satisfaction.
"Go on, harder, go on!" he muttered to the valet who
was rubbing him, slightly twitching and grunting. An aide-de-camp,
who had entered the bedroom to report to the Emperor the number
of prisoners taken in yesterday's action, was standing by the
door after delivering his message, awaiting permission to withdraw.
Napoleon, frowning, looked at him from under his brows.
"No prisoners!" said he, repeating the aide-de-camp's
words. "They are forcing us to exterminate them. So much
the worse for the Russian army.... Go on... harder, harder!"
he muttered, hunching his back and presenting his fat shoulders.
"All right. Let Monsieur de Beausset enter, and Fabvier
too," he said, nodding to the aide-de-camp.
"Yes, sire," and the aide-de-camp disappeared through
the door of the tent.
Two valets rapidly dressed His Majesty, and wearing the blue
uniform of the Guards he went with firm quick steps to the reception
room.
De Beausset's hands meanwhile were busily engaged arranging
the present he had brought from the Empress, on two chairs directly
in front of the entrance. But Napoleon had dressed and come out
with such unexpected rapidity that he had not time to finish arranging
the surprise.
Napoleon noticed at once what they were about and guessed
that they were not ready. He did not wish to deprive them of the
pleasure of giving him a surprise, so he pretended not to see
de Beausset and called Fabvier to him, listening silently and
with a stern frown to what Fabvier told him of the heroism and
devotion of his troops fighting at Salamanca, at the other end
of Europe, with but one thought- to be worthy of their Emperor-
and but one fear- to fail to please him. The result of that battle
had been deplorable. Napoleon made ironic remarks during Fabvier's
account, as if he had not expected that matters could go otherwise
in his absence.
"I must make up for that in Moscow," said Napoleon.
"I'll see you later," he added, and summoned de Beausset,
who by that time had prepared the surprise, having placed something
on the chairs and covered it with a cloth.
De Beausset bowed low, with that courtly French bow which
only the old retainers of the Bourbons knew how to make, and approached
him, presenting an envelope.
Napoleon turned to him gaily and pulled his ear.
"You have hurried here. I am very glad. Well, what is
Paris saying?" he asked, suddenly changing his former stern
expression for a most cordial tone.
"Sire, all Paris regrets your absence," replied
de Beausset as was proper.
But though Napoleon knew that de Beausset had to say something
of this kind, and though in his lucid moments he knew it was untrue,
he was pleased to hear it from him. Again he honored him by touching
his ear.
"I am very sorry to have made you travel so far,"
said he.
"Sire, I expected nothing less than to find you at the
gates of Moscow," replied de Beausset.
Napoleon smiled and, lifting his head absentmindedly, glanced
to the right. An aide-de-camp approached with gliding steps and
offered him a gold snuffbox, which he took.
"Yes, it has happened luckily for you," he said,
raising the open snuffbox to his nose. "You are fond of travel,
and in three days you will see Moscow. You surely did not expect
to see that Asiatic capital. You will have a pleasant journey."
De Beausset bowed gratefully at this regard for his taste
for travel (of which he had not till then been aware).
"Ha, what's this?" asked Napoleon, noticing that
all the courtiers were looking at something concealed under a
cloth.
With courtly adroitness de Beausset half turned and without
turning his back to the Emperor retired two steps, twitching off
the cloth at the same time, and said:
"A present to Your Majesty from the Empress."
It was a portrait, painted in bright colors by Gerard, of
the son borne to Napoleon by the daughter of the Emperor of Austria,
the boy whom for some reason everyone called "The King of
Rome."
A very pretty curly-headed boy with a look of the Christ in
the Sistine Madonna was depicted playing at stick and ball. The
ball represented the terrestrial globe and the stick in his other
hand a scepter.
Though it was not clear what the artist meant to express by
depicting the so-called King of Rome spiking the earth with a
stick, the allegory apparently seemed to Napoleon, as it had done
to all who had seen it in Paris, quite clear and very pleasing.
"The King of Rome!" he said, pointing to the portrait
with a graceful gesture. "Admirable!"
With the natural capacity of an Italian for changing the expression
of his face at will, he drew nearer to the portrait and assumed
a look of pensive tenderness. He felt that what he now said and
did would be historical, and it seemed to him that it would now
be best for him- whose grandeur enabled his son to play stick
and ball with the terrestrial globe- to show, in contrast to that
grandeur, the simplest paternal tenderness. His eyes grew dim,
he moved forward, glanced round at a chair (which seemed to place
itself under him), and sat down on it before the portrait. At
a single gesture from him everyone went out on tiptoe, leaving
the great man to himself and his emotion.
Having sat still for a while he touched- himself not knowing
why- the thick spot of paint representing the highest light in
the portrait, rose, and recalled de Beausset and the officer on
duty. He ordered the portrait to be carried outside his tent,
that the Old Guard, stationed round it, might not be deprived
of the pleasure of seeing the King of Rome, the son and heir of
their adored monarch.
And while he was doing M. de Beausset the honor of breakfasting
with him, they heard, as Napoleon had anticipated, the rapturous
cries of the officers and men of the Old Guard who had run up
to see the portrait.
"Vive l'Empereur! Vive le roi de Rome! Vive l'Empereur!"
came those ecstatic cries.
After breakfast Napoleon in de Beausset's presence dictated
his order of the day to the army.
"Short and energetic!" he remarked when he had read
over the proclamation which he had dictated straight off without
corrections. It ran:
Soldiers! This is the battle you have so longed for. Victory
depends on you. It is essential for us; it will give us all we
need: comfortable quarters and a speedy return to our country.
Behave as you did at Austerlitz, Friedland, Vitebsk, and Smolensk.
Let our remotest posterity recall your achievements this day with
pride. Let it be said of each of you: "He was in the great
battle before Moscow!"
"Before Moscow!" repeated Napoleon, and inviting
M. de Beausset, who was so fond of travel, to accompany him on
his ride, he went out of the tent to where the horses stood saddled.
"Your Majesty is too kind!" replied de Beausset
to the invitation to accompany the Emperor; he wanted to sleep,
did not know how to ride and was afraid of doing so.
But Napoleon nodded to the traveler, and de Beausset had to
mount. When Napoleon came out of the tent the shouting of the
Guards before his son's portrait grew still louder. Napoleon frowned.
"Take him away!" he said, pointing with a gracefully
majestic gesture to the portrait. "It is too soon for him
to see a field of battle."
De Beausset closed his eyes, bowed his head, and sighed deeply,
to indicate how profoundly he valued and comprehended the Emperor's
words.
|
