Napoleonic Literature
Memoirs of Constant - Vol. I
Chapter XI
The envoy of the Bey of Tunis and the Arabian horses— Bad faith of England— Journey to Boulogne— In Flanders and Belgium— Continual jaunts— The author acts as first valet de chambre— Constant’s debut as barber to the First Consul— Apprenticeship— Plebeian chins— The eagle glance— The First Consul difficult to shave— Constant persuades him to shave himself— His reasons for doing so— Imprudent confidence of the First Consul— The first lesson— The cuts— Slight reproaches— The First Consul's awkward way of holding his razor— The chiefs and the harangues— Arrival of the First Consul at Boulogne— Preludes to the formation of the camp of Boulogne— Speech of twenty fathers of families— Naval combat gained by Admiral Bruix against the English— The dinner and the victory— The English and the Iron Coast— Projected assault upon the person of the First Consul—Rapidity of the journey— The minister of police— Presents offered by the cities— Works commanded by the First Consul— Munificence— The First Consul a bad driver— Pallor of Cambacérès— The swoon— The Gospel precept— Dreamless sleep— The Ottoman ambassador— The cashmere shawls— The Mussulman at prayers and at the theatre.

AT the beginning of this year (1803) there arrived in Paris an envoy from Tunis, who presented the First Consul, in the name of the Bey, with ten Arabian horses. The Bey was then in dread of the wrath of England, and he was trying to secure France as a powerful ally who would be able to protect him; he could not have done better, everything announced the rupture of that Peace of Amiens so greatly rejoiced over by all Europe. England kept none of its promises and executed not a single article of the treaty; on his side, the First Consul, revolted by such bad faith, and unwilling to be duped by it, armed publicly, ordered the complement of officers to be filled up and a new levy of one hundred and twenty thousand conscripts. War was officially declared in June; but there had been hostilities before that.

At the end of this month the First Consul made a journey to Boulogne, and visited Picardy, Flanders, and Belgium, to organize the expedition he meditated against the English and to put the northern coasts in a state of defence. Returning to Paris in August, he left it again in November for a second visit to Boulogne. These repeated jaunts were too much for M. Hambart, first valet de chambre, who had long been sick. Hence, when the First Consul had been on the point of setting out on his first tour in the north, M. Hambart had asked his permission not to be of the party, alleging, which was very true, the bad state of his health. "That is the way you are," said the First Consul, "always sick and complaining! And if you stay here, who is going to shave me?" “General,” replied M. Hambart, “Constant knows how to shave as well as I do.” I was present and occupied at that very moment in dressing the First Consul. He looked at me and said: “Eh! monsieur le drôle, since you are so clever, you may make your trial on the spot; we shall see how you will go at it.” I knew the mishap of poor Hébert, which I have previously related, and not wishing to experience one like it, I had long been learning to shave. I had paid a barber to teach me his trade, and had even, in my leisure moments, apprenticed myself at his shop, where I had shaved all his customers indiscriminately. The chins of these worthy people had had somewhat to suffer before my hand was light enough for me to dare to bring my razor near the consular chin. But by dint of reiterated experiences on the beards of the vulgar, I had arrived at a degree of address which inspired me with the greatest confidence. Hence, on the First Consul's order, I got ready the hot water and soap-ball, opened the razor boldly, and began the operation. Just as I was about to bring the razor to the First Consul's face, he rose brusquely, turned round, and fixed his two eyes on me with an expression of severity and interrogation which I cannot describe. Seeing that I remained undisturbed, he sat down again, saying with more gentleness: "Continue;" which I did with sufficient address to satisfy him very well. When I had finished he said to me: "Hereafter it is you that shall shave me." And, in fact, from that time, he would have no other barber. Thenceforward my duties became much more active; for every day I was obliged to make my appearance to shave the First Consul, and I can affirm that it was no easy thing to do. During the ceremony of removing his beard he frequently talked, read the papers, moved round on his chair, turned suddenly, and I was obliged to use the greatest precaution to avoid wounding him. Luckily, this misfortune never happened to me. When by chance he did not talk, he remained immovable and stiff as a statue, and one could not make him lower, raise, or bend his head, as would have been necessary in order to accomplish the task more easily. He had also one singular mania, which was to have only one side of his face lathered and shaved at a time. He would never let me pass to the other side until the first was finished. The First Consul found this more convenient.

Later on, when I had become his first valet de chambre, when he deigned to treat me with the greatest kindness, and I had as much freedom of speech with him as his rank permitted, I took the liberty of persuading him to shave himself, for, as I have just said, being unwilling to allow himself to be shaved by anybody but me, he was obliged to wait to have me sent for, with the army especially, where he was not always regular about rising. He refused for a long time to follow my advice, and whenever I repeated it: "Ah ha! Mr. Laziness!" he would say to me, laughing, "wouldn't you be very glad to have me do half your work?" At last I had the good fortune to convince him of the disinterestedness and wisdom of my advice. The fact is that I wanted very much to persuade him; for, representing to myself what would necessarily happen if an indispensable absence, a malady, or any other motive should keep me at a distance from the First Consul, I could not think without a shudder that his life would be at the mercy of the first comer. For him, I am sure he never thought of this; for, whatever stories have been told about his distrust, it is certain that he never took any precautions against the snares that treachery might lay for him. His confidence on this point verged even on imprudence. Hence all who loved him, and they were all who surrounded him, sought to remedy this lack of precaution by all the vigilance of which they were capable. I need not say that it was above all this very solicitude for the precious life of my master which induced me to insist on the advice I had given him to shave himself.

The first times when he essayed to put my lessons into practice, it was more disquieting than laughable to see the Emperor (he was that then), who did not know how to hold the razor, in spite of the principles I had just laid down, illustrating them by reiterated examples, seize it by the handle and apply it perpendicularly to his cheek without laying it flat. He would make an abrupt slash with it, never failing to cut himself, and then draw back his hand as quickly as possible, exclaiming: "You see very well, you rogue! you are the cause of my cutting myself!" Then I would take the razor and finish the operation. The next day, the same scene as the day before, but with less bloodshed. Every day increased the Emperor's skill; and he ended, by dint of repeated lessons, in being able to dispense with me. Only he still cut himself occasionally, and then he would begin again to scold me a little; but in a bantering way and kindly. Besides, from the manner in which he went at it, and which he would not change, it was very possible that he would never avoid cutting himself frequently; for he shaved himself from top to bottom, and not from bottom to top like everybody else, and this bad method, which all my efforts could never alter, added to the habitual abruptness of his movements, made it impossible for me not to shudder every time I saw him take his razor.

Madame Bonaparte accompanied the First Consul on the first of these journeys. Like that to Lyons, it was a continual series of fêtes and triumphs.

In expectation of the arrival of the First Consul, the inhabitants of Boulogne had raised triumphal arches all the way from the Montreuil gate to the temporary building erected for him at the camp at the right. Each arch was of foliage, and bore the names of the combats and pitched battles in which he had been victorious. These domes and arcades of verdure and flowers presented an admirable sight. One of them, much higher than the others, rose in the middle of the rue de l' Ecu (the chief street); the élite of the city were assembled around it; more than a hundred young persons adorned with flowers, children, fine old men, and a large number of veterans who had not been detained in camp by military duty, were awaiting the arrival of the First Consul with impatience. As he approached, rejoicing cannons announced to the English, whose fleet was still lying in Boulogne waters, the appearance of Napoleon on the shore where the formidable army he had resolved to throw into England was assembling.

The First Consul, who had been mounted on a little gray horse which had the vivacity of a squirrel, alighted, and, followed by his brilliant staff, he addressed these paternal words to the city authorities: "I come to assure the welfare of France; the sentiments you manifest, your tokens of gratitude, all affect me; I shall never forget my entry into Boulogne, which I have chosen as the centre of reunion for my armies. Citizens, do not be alarmed by this rendezvous; it is that of the defenders of the country, and presently of the conquerors of haughty England." The First Consul continued his march, surrounded by the whole population, who only left him at the door of his baraque, where more than thirty generals received him. The firing of cannons, the ringing of bells, and shouts of joy lasted until nightfall.

The next day after our arrival, the First Consul visited the Pont-de-Briques, a little village situated half a league from Boulogne; a farmer read him the following compliment:

"General, we twenty are fathers of families who offer you a score of big fellows who are and always will be at your orders: take them with you, General, they may aid you serviceably when you go to England. As for us, we are fulfilling another duty; our arms will cultivate the earth so that bread shall not be lacking to the heroes who are to crush the English."

Napoleon smilingly thanked the outspoken countryman, glanced at a small country house built beside the high road, and said, addressing himself to General Berthier: “I will have my headquarters established there.” Then he spurred his horse and rode away. A general and several officers remained to execute his order, and the First Consul returned the same night to sleep at Pont-de-Briques.

I was told at Boulogne the details of a naval combat fought a short time before our arrival between the French fleet, commanded by Admiral Bruix, and the English squadron with which Nelson was blocking the port of Boulogne. I will tell them as they were told to me, as I thought the convenient manner in which the French admiral directed the operations of his seamen very curious.

About two hundred vessels, both gunboats and bomb-ketches, flat-boats and pinnaces, formed the line of defence; the coast and the forts were bristling with batteries. Several frigates detached themselves from the enemy's station, and, preceded by two or three brigs, got into battle array in front of the line and within range of the cannon of our flotilla. Then the fight began, and the balls came from every direction. Nelson, who had promised the destruction of the flotilla, reinforced his line of battle by two other ranks of vessels and frigates; thus placed in echelon, they fought with a great superiority of forces. For more than seven hours, the sea, covered with fire and smoke, offered to the whole population of Boulogne the superb and frightful spectacle of a naval combat where more than eighteen hundred cannons were discharged at once. Nelson's genius could do nothing against our sailors and soldiers. Admiral Bruix was in his barrack, which was placed near the coast-telegraph of signals. He fought Nelson from there, drinking with his staff and several ladies of Boulogne whom he had invited to dinner. The guests were chanting the first victories of the First Consul, while the Admiral, without leaving the table, manœuvred the flotilla by means of the signals he ordered. Nelson, impatient to conquer, brought forward all his naval forces, but the wind being against him, he could not keep the promise he had made in London to burn our flotilla. Far from that, several of his vessels were badly damaged, and Admiral Bruix, seeing the English drawing off, shouted victory while pouring champagne for his guests. The French flotilla had not suffered much, while the enemy's squadron had been ruined by the continual firing of our stationary batteries. On that day, the English recognized that it would be impossible for them to approach the coast of Boulogne, which they have since surnamed the Iron Coast ( Côte de Fer).

When the First Consul quitted Boulogne, he was to go to Abbeville and remain there twenty-four hours. The mayor of that town had neglected nothing to receive him worthily. Abbeville was superb on that day. The most beautiful trees in a neighboring wood had been dug up by their roots to form avenues in all the streets through which the First Consul was to pass. Several inhabitants who owned magnificent gardens, had sent their rarest shrubs to range along his route. Carpets from the manufactory of MM. Hecquet-Dorval were stretched on the ground to be trodden by his horses. An unexpected circumstance suddenly disturbed the fête: a courier, expedited by the minister of police, arrived just as we were approaching the city. The minister warned the First Consul that they meant to assassinate him two leagues from there, the day and hour were indicated.

To frustrate the intended attack against his person, the First Consul passed through the city on a gallop, and, followed by several lancers, went to the place where he was to be attacked; there he made a halt of about half an hour, ate some Abbeville biscuits, and went back again. The assassins were tricked; their preparations had been made for the next day.

The First Consul and Madame Bonaparte continued their journey across Picardy, Flanders, and the Low Countries. War vessels were daily offered him by the different councils-general. They continued to address him and to present him with the keys of cities as if he were exercising royal power. Amiens, Dunkirk, Lille, Bruges, Ghent, Brussels, Liège, Namur, distinguished themselves by the brilliancy of the reception they gave the illustrious travellers. The inhabitants of the city of Antwerp presented the First Consul with six magnificent bay horses. Likewise the First Consul left behind him serviceable marks of his passage. By his orders the works were at once begun for cleaning and improving the port of Amiens. In this city, and in others when it was going on, he visited the exhibition of industrial products, encouraging the manufacturers by his counsels and assisting them by his decrees. At Liège he placed at the disposal of the prefect of the Ourthe a sum of three hundred thousand francs for the repair of the houses burned by the Austrians in this department, during the first wars of the Revolution. Antwerp owed to him its inner port, its basins, and its dockyards. At Brussels, he ordered the junction of the Rhine, the Meuse, and the Scheldt by a canal. He caused a stone bridge to be thrown across the Mouse at Givet, and, at Sedan, the widow Rousseau received from him a sum of sixty thousand francs for the rebuilding of her factory, which had been destroyed by fire. In fine, I could not enumerate all the benefits, public or private, which the First Consul and Madame Bonaparte strewed along their route.

Shortly after our return to Saint-Cloud, the First Consul, being out in a carriage with his wife and M. Cambacérès, took the notion to drive four-in-hand the horses attached to it, which were those that had been given to him by the inhabitants of Antwerp. He mounted on the box, therefore, and took the reins from the hands of César, his coachman, who got up behind. They were just then in the horseshoe alley, which goes by way of the Breteuil pavilion and Ville-d'Avray. It says in the Memorial of Saint-Helena, that the aide-de-camp, having awkwardly crossed the horses, made them run away. César, who gave me all the details of this lamentable adventure, did not say a word about the aide-de-camp; and, in all conscience, no other awkwardness was required to upset the carriage than that of a coachman as inexperienced as the First Consul. Besides, the horses were young and spirited, and César himself needed all his skill to drive them. Not feeling his hand any longer, they started off at a gallop; and César, seeing the new direction they were taking towards the right, began to shout: To the left! with the voice of a stentor. Consul Cambacérès, paler than ever, took very little pains to reassure the frightened Madame Bonaparte, but cried with all his might: "Stop! stop! you are going to smash us!" That might easily have happened; but the First Consul heard nothing, and moreover he was no longer master of his horses. On arriving, or rather on being dragged to the gate, he could not take the middle of the road, but ran against a post and fell out heavily. Fortunately the horses stopped. The First Consul, thrown ten feet and striking on his stomach, fainted and did not come to himself until some one touched him to pick him up. Madame Bonaparte and the Second Consul received only slight contusions, but the good Josephine had suffered horribly from anxiety about her husband. However, though he had been rudely shaken up, he would not be bled, and contented himself with being rubbed with cologne water, his favorite remedy. That night, on going to bed, he talked gayly about his mishap and the extreme fright which his colleague had displayed, and ended by saying: "We must render to César the things that are César’s; let him keep his whip, and every one stick to his trade." He admitted, however, in spite of his pleasantries, that he had never thought himself so near death, and even that he deemed himself dead for some seconds. I do not remember whether it was on this occasion or on some other that I heard the Emperor say that death was nothing but a sleep without dreams.

In October of this year the First Consul received in public audience Haled-Effendi, ambassador of the Ottoman Porte.

The arrival of the Turkish ambassador made a sensation at the Tuileries, because he brought a great quantity of cashmere shawls to the First Consul; people were sure they would be distributed, and each woman flattered herself on being favorably treated. I think that without his strange costume, and especially without his cashmeres, he would have produced very little effect on persons accustomed to see sovereign princes pay their court to the head of the government both at home and abroad. Even his costume was not more remarkable than that of Roustan, to which we were accustomed, and as to his obeisances, they were hardly more profound than those of the ordinary courtiers of the First Consul. At Paris, they say that the enthusiasm lasted longer. 'Tis so droll to be a Turk! Some ladies had the honor to see the bearded ambassador eat; he was polite and even gallant with them, and gave them several presents which were much boasted of. His manners were not too Mussulman-like, and he was not afraid to see our pretty Parisians without a veil on their faces. One day, which he spent almost entirely at Saint-Cloud, I saw him making his prayer. It was in the court of honor, on a large parapet bordered by a stone balustrade. The ambassador had carpets stretched alongside the apartments which were afterwards those of the King of Rome, and there he made his genuflections in sight of several members of the household, who, out of discretion, kept themselves behind the shutters. In the evening he was present at the theatre. I think they played Zaire or Mahomet; he did not understand a word.

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