One morning on mounting his horse, the Emperor announced that he would hold a review of the naval forces, and gave orders to have the vessels forming the line of blockade leave their positions, as he intended to review them in open sea. He set out with Roustan for his usual ride, and expressed the desire that all should be ready on his return, the hour of which he designated. Everybody knew that the Emperor's desire was his will; some one went during his absence to transmit it to Admiral Bruix, who responded with imperturbable coolness that he was very sorry, but that the review would not take place that day. Consequently not a vessel stirred.
On returning from his ride, the Emperor inquired if all was ready; he was told what the Admiral had replied. He had this reply twice repeated to him. He was unaccustomed to the tone of it, and stamping violently, he sent for the Admiral, who presented himself at once.
He did not come quickly enough to suit the Emperor, however, and he met him half-way from his barrack. The staff were following His Majesty, and ranged themselves silently around him. His eyes shot lightning.
"Mr. Admiral," said the Emperor in an agitated voice, "why have you not executed my orders?"
"Sire," replied Admiral Bruix with respectful firmness, "there is a horrible tempest brewing. . . . Your Majesty can see it as well as I can; do you wish to expose the lives of so many brave fellows without necessity?" As a matter of fact, the heaviness of the atmosphere and the dull rumbling in the distance justified the fears of the Admiral but too well. "Sir," replied the Emperor, more and more irritated, "I gave orders; once more, why have you not executed them? The consequences concern me alone. Obey! "—"Sire, I will not obey."—"Sir, you are insolent!" And the Emperor, who still held his whip in his hand, advanced toward the Admiral with a threatening gesture. Admiral Bruix drew back a step, and laid his hand on the hilt of his sword. "Sire," he said, turning pale, "take care!" The Emperor, motionless for a time, his hand raised, fixed his eyes on the Admiral, who, on his side, maintained his terrible attitude. At last, the Emperor threw his whip on the ground. M. Bruix let go of the hilt of his sword, and with uncovered head awaited the result of this horrible scene.
"Mr. Rear-admiral Magon," said the Emperor, "you will have the movement I ordered executed on the instant. As to you, sir," continued he, bringing back his glance to Admiral Bruix, "you will leave Boulogne within twenty-four hours, and retire to Holland. Go." His Majesty withdrew at once. Some officers, but not very many, shook the hand the Admiral held out to them in parting.
Meanwhile Rear-admiral Magon caused the fleet to perform the fatal manœuvre required by the Emperor. Hardly were the first steps taken when the sea became frightful to behold. The heavily clouded sky was furrowed with lightning, the thunder roared every instant, and the wind broke up all the lines. At last occurred what the Admiral had foreseen, and the most fearful tempest dispersed the vessels in such a manner as to render their situation desperate. The Emperor, with down-bent head and crossed arms, was walking the beach when terrible cries were suddenly heard. More than twenty gunboats crowded with soldiers and sailors had just been cast ashore, and the unfortunates whom they had carried were struggling against furious waves, crying for aid that no one dared to give them. Profoundly touched by this spectacle, his heart torn by the lamentations of the immense crowd drawn by the tempest to the cliffs and the shore, the Emperor, who saw his generals and officers shivering with horror around him, resolved to set the example of devotion, and in spite of every effort made to detain him, he threw himself into a life-boat, saying: "Let me alone! let me alone! some one must get them out." His boat filled with water in an instant. The waves passed and repassed above it, and the Emperor was drenched. A billow still stronger than the others narrowly missed carrying His Majesty overboard, and his hat was thrown into the water. Electrified by such courage, officers, soldiers, sailors, and citizens flew to the rescue, some in boats and some by swimming. But, alas! but a small number of the unfortunates who had composed the crew of the gunboats could be saved, and the next day the sea threw back on the beach more than two hundred corpses, along with the hat of the victor of Marengo.
This sad morrow was a day of desolation for Boulogne and for the camp. There was no one who did not hasten to the shore, searching anxiously among the corpses heaped up by the waves. The Emperor groaned over so many disasters which interiorly he doubtless could not fail to attribute to his own obstinacy. Agents provided with gold went by his orders through the city and the camp, to prevent the murmurs that were all ready to break out.
That day, I saw a drummer belonging to the crew of the shipwrecked shallops come back on his drum, as if it had been a raft. The poor devil had his thigh broken. He had remained more than twelve hours in this horrible situation.
To finish up with the camp of Boulogne, I will relate here what did not in reality happen until the month of August, 1805, after the return of the Emperor from his journey and his coronation in Italy.
Soldiers and sailors were burning with impatience to embark for England, but the desired moment did not arrive. Every evening they said to each other: To-morrow there will be a good wind, it will be foggy, and we shall start; and they fell asleep in that hope. Day would break with sun or rain.
One evening, however, when the favorable wind was blowing, I heard two sailors, chatting together on the wharf, indulging in conjectures about the future: "The Emperor would do well to start to-morrow," said one; "he will never have better weather, there will surely be a fog." "Bah!" said the other," he does not even think of it; it is more than a fortnight since the fleet has budged. They don't want to start so soon." And yet all the munitions are on board; everything could be unmoored in a jiffy." They came to place the night-sentinels, and the conversation of the two old sea-dogs stopped there. But I soon had reason to recognize that their experience had not deceived them. In fact, toward three o'clock in the morning a light fog overspread the sea, which was a little rough; the wind of the previous day sprang up again. At daybreak, the fog thickened so as to hide the fleet from the English. The most profound silence reigned everywhere. Not a single unfriendly sail had been signalled during the night, and, as the sailors had said, everything favored the descent.
At five o'clock in the morning signals came from the semaphore. In a twinkling, all the seamen were stirring. The harbor resounded with shouts of joy; the order to depart had been received! While the sails were being hoisted, the general was beaten in the four camps. The whole army was called to arms and came down precipitately into the city, hardly believing what they had just heard. "We are going to start, then," said all these valiant fellows; "we are going to say two words to those —— of English!" And the pleasure that moved them expressed itself in acclamations which were silenced by a rolling of the drums. The embarkation took place in profound silence, and in an orderly manner which I should vainly try to describe. In seven hours two hundred thousand soldiers were aboard the fleet; and, when a little after midday this fine army was about to start out, amid the farewells and good wishes of the entire city assembled on the wharves and on the cliffs, at the moment when all the soldiers, standing with uncovered heads, were detaching themselves from French soil to the cry of Long live the Emperor! a message arrived from the imperial barrack which disembarked the troops and sent them back to camp. A telegraphic despatch received that very moment by His Majesty obliged him to give another direction to his troops.
The soldiers returned sadly to their quarters; some of them testified loudly, and in a very energetic manner, the disappointment caused them by this species of mystification. They had always regarded the success of the enterprise against England as a thing completely certain, and to see themselves arrested at the instant of departure was in their eyes the greatest misfortune that could happen.
When all was in order, the Emperor repaired to the right camp, and there he made a proclamation in presence of the troops which was carried to the other camps, and posted everywhere. This was about the tenor of it:
"Brave soldiers of the camp of Boulogne!
"You will not go to England. English gold has seduced the Emperor of Austria, who has just declared war on France. His army has broken the line it was to keep; Bavaria is invaded. Soldiers! new laurels await you beyond the Rhine; let us speed to conquer from the enemy we have conquered already."
This proclamation was received with universal transports. All frowns vanished. It mattered little to these intrepid men whether they were led to Austria or to England. They were thirsting to fight, war was proclaimed; all their desires were satisfied.
Thus vanished all those grand schemes for a descent on England, ripened so long, so wisely planned. It is not doubtful now that, with time and perseverance, the enterprise would have been crowned with the greatest success. But it was not to be.
Several regiments remained at Boulogne; and while their brethren were overthrowing the Austrians, they erected a column on the beach destined long to recall the souvenir of Napoleon and his immortal army.
Directly after the proclamation of which I have just spoken, His Majesty gave orders to make all ready for his approaching departure. The grand marshal of the palace was directed to examine and pay all the expenses incurred by the Emperor, or which he had caused to be incurred during his different sojourns; not without being recommended, as usual, to take good care not to overpay, or pay too dear. I think I have said already that His Majesty was extremely economical in all that concerned him personally, and that he was afraid of spending twenty francs without some very useful end in view.
Among many other accounts to be regulated, the grand marshal of the palace found that of M. Sordi, engineer of military communications, who had been directed by him to undertake the interior and exterior decorations of His Majesty's barrack. The bill amounted to fifty thousand francs. The grand marshal uttered cries of horror at this alarming total; he would not settle M. Sordi's bill, and dismissed him, saying that he could not authorize the payment without first having taken the Emperor's orders.
The engineer withdrew, after assuring the grand marshal that he had not overcharged for any article, and that he had followed his instructions literally. He added that in this state of things, he could not possibly make the least reduction. The next day M. Sordi received orders to present himself before the Emperor.
The Emperor was in his barrack, the subject of the discussion. He had under his eyes, not the account of the engineer, but a map on which he was following the future march of his army. M. Sordi came and was introduced by General Cafarelli. The half-opened door permitted the General, and me also, to hear the conversation about to begin. "Sir," said His Majesty, "you have spent a great deal too much money in decorating this wretched barrack: yes, certainly, a great deal too much. . . . Fifty thousand francs! do you think of that, sir? but that is frightful. I will not have you paid." The engineer, dumfounded by this brusque rush into the subject, did not at first know what to reply. Happily the Emperor, by casting his eyes once more at the unrolled map, gave him time to collect himself. He responded: "Sire, the gold clouds which formed the ceiling of this room [all this took place in the councils chamber], and which surround the guiding star of Your Majesty, did in fact cost twenty thousand francs. But if I had consulted the heart of your subjects, the imperial eagle which is again about to crush the enemies of France and of your throne would have spread its wings in the midst of the rarest diamonds." "That is all very well," replied the Emperor, laughing; " it is very well, but I will not pay you at present, and since you tell me that this eagle which cost so dear ought to crush the Austrians, wait till it does so, and I will pay your bill with the rix-dollars of the Emperor of Germany and the gold frederics of the King of Prussia." And His Majesty, resuming his compass, began to make his army move over the map.
As a matter of fact, the engineer's account was not settled until after the battle of Austerlitz, and then, as the Emperor had said, in rix-dollars and frederics.