CHAPTER XXXIX. A MORNING AT THE TUILLERIES
True to his appointment, the general appeared the following day asthe hour of noon was striking. He brought the official papers fromthe Minister of War, as well as the formal letter naming me hisaide-de-camp. The documents were all perfectly regular; and being readover by the military commission, I was sent for, when my sword wasrestored to me by the colonel of the regiment in garrison, and I wasfree once more.
"You have received a severe lesson, Burke," said the general, as he tookmy arm to lead me towards his carriage, "and all owing to the rashnesswith which, in times of difficulty and danger, you permitted yourself toform intimacies with men utterly unknown to you. There are epochs whenweakness is the worst of evils. You are very young, to be sure, and Itrust the experience you have acquired here will serve for a lifetime."
"Still, sir, in all this sad business, my faith never wavered; myattachment to the Consul was unshaken."
"Had it been otherwise, do you think you had been here now?" said he,dryly. "Were not the evidences of your fidelity set off againstyour folly, what chance of escape remained for you? No, no; she whobefriended you so steadily throughout this tangled scheme for your ruin,had never advocated your cause were there reason to suppose you wereinvolved in the conspiracy against her husband's life."
"Who do you mean?" said I. "I scarcely understand."
"The Consulesse, of course. But for Madame Bonaparte you were lost; evensince I saw you last, I have learned how deeply interested she became inyour fortunes. The letter you received in the Temple came from her, andthe enclosure also. And now, with your leave, we can do nothing betterthan pay our respects to her, and make our acknowledgments for suchkindness. She receives at this hour, and will, I know, take your visitin good part."
While I professed my readiness to comply with the suggestion, we droveinto the court of the Tuileries. It was so early that, except theofficers of the Consul's staff and some of those on guard, we were theonly persons visible.
"We are the first arrivals," said the general, as we drew up at the doorof the pavilion. "I am not sorry for it; we shall have our audience overbefore the crowd assembles."
Giving our names to the usher, we mounted the stairs, and passed onfrom room to room until we came to a large salon, in which seats wereformally arranged in a semicircle, an armchair somewhat higher than therest occupying the centre. Several full-length portraits of the generalsof the Revolutionary armies adorned the walls, and a striking likenessof the Consul himself, on horseback, held the principal place. I hadbut time to see thus much, when the two sides of the folding-doors wereflung open, and Madame Bonaparte, followed by Mademoiselle de Meudon,entered. Scarcely were the doors closed, when she said, smiling,--
"I heard of your arrival. General, and guessed its purport, so came atonce. Monsieur Burke, I am happy to see you at liberty once more."
"That I owe it to you, Madame, makes it doubly dear to me," said I,faltering.
"You must not overrate my exertions on your behalf," replied theConsulesse, in a hurried voice. "There was an amende due to you for thetreatment you met with at Versailles,--all Savary's fault; and now I amsincerely sorry I ever suffered myself to become a party to his schemes.Indeed, I never guessed them, or I should not. General d'Auvergne hasmade you his aide-decamp, he tells me."
"Yes, Madame; my good fortune has showered favors on me most suddenly.Your kindness has been an augury of success in everything."
She smiled, as if pleased, and then said, "I have a piece of adviceto give you, and hope you 'll profit by it." Then, turning towards thegeneral, who all this time was deeply engaged in talking to Mademoisellede Meudon, she added, "Don't you think. General, that it were as wellMonsieur Burke should not be in the way of meeting the Consul for someshort time to come. Is there any garrison duty, or any service away fromParis, where for a week or so he could remain?"
"I have thought of that, Madame," said the general. "Two of theregiments in my brigade are to march tomorrow for the east of France,and I intend my young friend to proceed to Strasburg at once."
"This is not meant for banishment," said she to me, with a look of muchsweetness; "but Bonaparte will now and then say a severe thing, likelyto dwell in the mind of him to whom it was addressed long after thesentiment which dictated it has departed. A little time will efface allmemory of this sad affair, and then we shall be happy to see you hereagain."
"Or events may happen soon, Madame, by which he may make his own peacewith General Bonaparte."
"True, very true," said she, gravely. "And as to that. General, whatadvices are there from Vienna?"
She drew the general aside into one of the windows, leaving me alonewith Mademoiselle de Meudon. But a minute before, and I had given theworld for such an opportunity, and now I could not speak a syllable.She, too, seemed equally confused, and bent over a large vase ofmoss-roses, as if totally occupied by their arrangement. I drew nearer,and endeavored to address her; but the words would not come, while ahundred gushing thoughts pressed on me, and my heart beat loud enoughfor me to hear it. At last I saw her lips move, and thought I heard myname. I bent down my head lower; it was her voice, but so low as to bescarcely audible.
"I cannot thank you, sir, as I could wish," said she, "for the serviceyou rendered me, at the risk of your own life and honor. And though Iknew not the dangers you were to incur by my request, I asked it asof the only one I knew who would brave such danger at my asking." Shepaused for a second, then continued: "The friend of Charles could notbut be the friend of Marie de Meudon. There is now another favor I wouldbeg at your hands," said she, while a livid paleness overspread herfeatures.
"Oh, name it!" said I, passionately. "Say, how can I serve you?"
"It is this," said she, with an accent whose solemnity sank into thevery recesses of my heart. "We have ever been an unlucky race; De Meudonis but a name for misfortune not only have we met little else in ourown lives, but all who have befriended us have paid the penalty of theirfriendship. My dear brother knew this well; and I--." She paused, andthen, though her lips moved, the words that followed were inaudible."There is but one on earth," continued she, as her eyes, brimful oftears, were turned towards Madame Bonaparte, who still stood talkingin the window, "over whose fortunes my affection has thrown no blight.Heaven grant it may be ever so!" Then suddenly, as if rememberingherself, she added: "What I would ask is this,--that we should meet nomore. Nay, nay; look not so harshly at me. If I, alone in the world, askto be deprived of his friendship who loved my brother so--"
"Oh! if you be alone in the world, feel for one like me, who has noteven a country he can call his own. Take not the one hope from my heart,I ask you. Leave me the thought that there is one, but one, in all thisland, to whom my name, if ever mentioned with praise, can bring onemoment's pleasure,--who can say 'I knew him.' Do not forget thatCharles, with his dying breath, said you would be my sister."
The door of the _salon_ opened suddenly, and a name was announced, butin my confusion, I heard not what. Madame Bonaparte, however, advancedtowards the new arrival with an air of welcome, as she said,--
"We were just wishing for you, general. Pray tell us all the news ofParis."
The person thus addressed was a very tall and singularly handsome man,whose dark eyes, and dark whiskers meeting in the middle of his chin,gave him the appearance of an Italian. He was dressed in a hussaruniform, whose gorgeous braiding of gold was heightened in effect by ablaze of orders and stars that covered the entire breast; the scarletpantaloons, tight to the leg, displayed to advantage the perfectsymmetry of his form; while his boots of yellow morocco, bound andtasselled with gold, seemed the very coquetry of military costume. Asabre, the hilt actually covered with precious stones, clanked at hisside, and the aigrette of his plumed hat was a large diamond. There wassomething almost theatrical in the manner of his approach, as with astately step and a deep bow he took Madame Bonaparte's hand and kissedit; a ceremony he repeated to Mademoiselle de Meudon, adding
, as he didso,--
"And my fair rose de Provence, more beautiful than ever!--how is she?"
"What flattery is he whispering, Marie?" said the Consulesse, laughing."Don't you know, General, that I insist on all the compliments herebeing paid to myself. What do you think of my robe? Your judgment issaid to be perfect."
"Charming, absolutely charming!" said he, in an attitude of affectedadmiration. "It is only such taste as yours could have devised anythingso beautiful. Yet the roses,--I half think I should have preferred themwhite."
"You can scarcely imagine that vain fellow with the long ringlets theboldest soldier of the French army," said the general, in a low whisper,as he drew me to one side.
"Indeed! And who is he, then?"
"You a hussar, and not know him! Why, Murat, to be sure."
"So, then, Madame, all my news of Monsieur Talleyrand's ball, it seems,is stale already. You 've heard that the russian and Austrian ministersboth sent apologies?"
"Oh dear!" said she, sighing; "have I not heard it a thousand times, andevery reason for it canvassed, until I wished both of their excellenciesat--at Madame Lefebvre's dinner-party?"
"That was perfect," cried Murat, aloud; "a regular bivouac in a salon.You'd think that the silver dishes and the gilt candelabras had justbeen captured from the enemy, and that the cuisine was made by beat ofdrum."
"The general is an honest man and a brave officer," said D'Auvergne,somewhat nettled at the tone Murat spoke in.
"No small boast either," replied the other, shrugging his shoulderscarelessly, "in the times and the land we live in."
"And what of Cambaceres's soiree,--how did it go off?" interposed MadameBonaparte, anxious to relieve the awkward pause that followed.
"Like everything in his hotel,--sombre, stately, and stupid; the companyall dull, who would be agreeable everywhere else; the tone of thereception labored and affected; and every one dying to get away toFouche's,--it was his second night for receiving."
"Was that pleasanter, then?"
"A hundred times. There are no parties like his: one meets everybody;it is a kind of neutral territory for the Faubourg and the Jacobin, thepartisan of our people and the followers of Heaven knows who. Foucheslips about, whispering the same anecdote in confidence to every one,and binding each to secrecy. Then, as every one comes there to spy hisneighbor, the host has an excellent opportunity of pumping all in turn;and while they all persist in telling him nothing but lies, they forgetthat with him no readier road could lead to the detection of truth."
"The Consul!" said a servant, aloud, as the door opened and closed witha crash; and Bonaparte, dressed in the uniform of the Chasseurs of theGuard, and covered with dust, entered.
"Was Decres here?" And then, without waiting for a reply, continued:"It is settled, all finally arranged; I told you, Madame, the 'pear wasripe.' I start to-morrow for Boulogne; you, Murat, must accompanyme; D'Auvergne, your division will march the day after. Who is thisgentleman?"
This latter question, in all its abruptness, was addressed to me, whilea dark and ominous frown settled on his features.
"My aide-de-camp, sir," said the old general, hastily, hoping thus toescape further inquiry.
"Your name, sir?" said the Consul, harshly, as he fixed his piercingeyes upon me.
"Burke, sir; sous-lieutenant--"
"Of the Eighth Hussars," continued he. "I know the rest, sir. Everyconspiracy is made up of knaves and fools; you figured in thelatter capacity. Mark me, sir, your name is yet to make; the timeis approaching when you may have the opportunity. Still, General d'Auvergne, it is not in the ranks of a _Chouan_ plot I should have goneto select my staff."
"Pardon me, sir; but this young man's devotion to you--"
"Is on record. General; I have seen it in Mehee de la Touche's ownwriting," added Bonaparte, with a sneer. "Give me the fidelity, sir,that has no tarnish,--like your own, D'Auvergne. Go, sir," said he,turning to me, while he waved his hand towards the door; "it willneed all your bravery and all your heroism to make me acquit Generald'Auvergne of an act of folly."
Napoleon sends Burke from the room]
I hung my head in shame, and with a low reverence and a tottering stepmoved from the room and closed the door behind me.
I had just reached the street when the general overtook me.
"Come, come, Burke," said he; "you must not mind this. I heard Lannesreceive a heavier reproof because he only carried away three guns of anAustrian battery when there were four in all."
"Bonaparte never forgets, sir," muttered I, between my teeth, as thewell-remembered phrase crossed my mind.
"Then there 's but one thing to do, my boy; give him a pleasantersouvenir to look back upon. Besides," added he, in a lower tone, "thegeneral is ever harsh at the moment of victory; and such is thepresent. In a few days more, France will have an emperor; the Senate hasdeclared, and the army wait but for the signal to salute their monarch.And now for your own duties. Make your arrangements to start to-night bypost for Mayence; I shall join you there in about ten days. You are, onyour arrival, to report yourself to the general in command, and receiveyour instructions from him. A great movement towards the Rhine isin contemplation; but, of course, everything awaits the progress ofpolitical changes in Paris."
Thus conversing, we reached the corner of the Rue de Rohan, where thegeneral's quarters were.
"You'll be here then punctually at eight to-night," said he; and weparted.
I walked on for some time without knowing which way I went, the strangeconflict of my mind so completely absorbed me,--hope and fear, pride,shame, and sorrow, alternately swaying me with their impulses. I noticednot the gay and splendid streets through which I passed, nor the merrygroups which poured along. At length I remembered that but a few hoursremained for me to make some purchases necessary for my journey. My newuniform as aide-de-camp, too, was yet to be ordered; and by somestrange hazard I was exactly at the corner of the Rue de Richelieu on theBoulevard, at the very shop of Monsieur Grillac where some months beforebegan the singular current of ill luck that had followed me ever since.A half shudder of fear passed across me for a second as I thought of allthe dangers I had gone through; and the next moment I felt ashamed ofmy cowardice, and pushing the glass door before me, walked in. I lookedabout me for the well-known face of the proprietor, but he was nowhereto be seen. A lean and wasted little old man, hung round with tapes andmeasures, was the only person there. Saluting me with a most respectfulbow, he asked my orders.
"I thought this was Crillac's," said I, hesitatingly.
A shrug of the shoulders and a strange expression of the eyebrows wasthe only reply.
"I remember he lived here some eight or ten months ago," said Iagain, curious to find out the meaning of the man's ignorance of hispredecessor.
"Monsieur has been away from Paris for some time then?" was the cautiousquestion of the little man, as he peered curiously at me.
"Yes; I have been away," said I, after a pause.
"Monsieur knew Criliac probably when he was here?"
"I never saw him but once," said I.
"Ha!" cried he, after a long silence. "Then you probably never heardof the _Chouan_ conspiracy to murder the Chief Consul and overthrow theGovernment, nor of their trial at the Palais de Justice?"
I nodded slightly, and he went on.
"Monsieur Crillac's evidence was of great value in the proceeding: heknew Jules de Polignac and Charles de la Riviere well; and but for him,San Victor would have escaped."
"And what has become of him since?"
"He is gone back to the South; he has been promoted."
"Promoted! what do you mean?"
"_Parbleu!_ it is easy enough to understand. He was made chef de bureauin the department of--"
"What! was he not a tailor then?"
"A tailor! No," said the little man, laughing heartily; "he wasa mouchard, a police spy, who knew all the Royalist party well atBordeaux; and Fouche brought him up here to Paris, and establish
ed himin this house. Ah, mon Dieu!" said he, sighing, "he had a better and apleasanter occupation than cutting out pantaloons."
Without heeding the reiterated professions of the little tailor of hisdesire for my patronage, I strolled out again, lost in reflection, andsick to the heart of a system based on such duplicity and deception.
At last in Mayence! What a change of life was this to me! A largefortress garrisoned by twelve thousand men, principally artillery,awaited here the orders of the Consul; but whither the destinationbefore them, or what the hour when the word to march was to summon them,none could tell. Meanwhile the activity of the troops was studiouslykept up; battering trains of field artillery were exercised day afterday; the men were practised in all the movements of the field; whilethe foundries were unceasingly occupied in casting guns and the furnacesrolled forth their myriads of shell and shot. Staff-officers came andwent; expresses arrived from Paris; and orderlies, travel-stained andtired, galloped in from the other fortified places near; but still nowhisper came to say where the great game of war was to open, for whatquarter of the globe the terrible carnage was destined. From daylighttill dark no moment of our time was unoccupied; reports innumerable wereto be furnished on every possible subject; and frequently it was far inthe night ere I returned to rest.
To others this unbroken monotony may have been wearisome anduninteresting; to me each incident bore upon the great cause I gloriedin,--the dull rumble of the caissons, the heavy clattering of the brassguns, were music to my ear, and I never wearied of the din and clamorthat spoke of preparation. Such was indeed the preoccupation of mythoughts that I scarcely marked the course of events which were eventhen passing, or the mighty changes that already moved across thedestinies of France. To my eyes the conqueror of Lodi needed no title;what sceptre could equal his own sword? France might desire in her prideto unite her destinies with such a name as his; but he, the generalof Italy and Egypt, could not be exalted by any dignity. Such were myboyish fancies; and as I indulged them, again there grew up the hopewithin me that a brighter day was yet to beam on my own fortunes, whenI should do that which even in his eyes might seem worthy. His veryreproaches stirred my courage and nerved my heart. There was a combat,there was a battlefield, before me, in which my whole fame and honorlay; and could I but succeed in making him confess that he had wrongedme, what pride was in the thought? "Yes," said I, again and again, "adevotion to him such as I can offer must have success: one who, like me,has neither home nor friends nor country to share his heart, must haveroom in it for one passion; and that shall be glory. She whom alone Icould have loved,--I dared not confess I did love her,--never could bemine. Life must have its object; and what so noble as that before me?"My very dreams caught up the infatuation of my waking thoughts,and images of battle, deadly contests, and terrific skirmishes wereconstantly passing before me; and I actually went my daily roundsof duty buried in these thoughts, and lost to everything save whatministered to my excited imagination.
We who lived far away on the distant frontier could but collect from thejournals the state of excitement and enthusiasm into which every classof the capital was thrown by Napoleon's elevation to the Monarchy. Neverperhaps in any country did the current of popular favor run in a streamso united. The army hailed him as their brother of the sword, and feltthe proud distinction that the chief of the Empire was chosen from theirranks. The civilian saw the restoration of Monarchy as the pledgeof that security which alone was wanting to consolidate nationalprosperity. The clergy, however they may have distrusted his sincerity,could not but acknowledge that to his influence was owing the return ofthe ancient faith; and, save the Vendeans, broken and discomfited, andthe scattered remnants of the Jacobin party, discouraged by the fate ofMoreau, none raised a voice against him. A few of the old Republicans,among whom was Camot, did, it is true, proclaim their dissent; but somoderately, and with so little of partisan spirit, as to call forth aeulogium on their honorable conduct from Napoleon himself.
The mighty change, which was to undo all the long and arduous strugglesfor liberty which took years in their accomplishments, was effectedin one burst of national enthusiasm. Surrounded by nations on whosefriendship they dared not reckon,--at war with their most powerfulenemy, England,--France saw herself dependent on the genius of one greatman; and beheld, too, the formidable conspiracy for his assassination,coupled with the schemes against her own independence. He became thusindissolubly linked with her fortunes; self-interest and gratitudepointed both in the same direction to secure his services; and theImperial Crowa was indeed less the reward of the past than the priceof the future. Even they who loved him least, felt that in his guidancethere was safety, and that without him the prospect was dark and drearyand threatening.
Another element which greatly contributed to the same effect, was thesocial ruin caused by the Revolution; the destruction of all commerce,the forfeiture of property, had thrown every class into the service ofthe Government. Men gladly advocated a change by which the ancientforms of a Monarchy might be restored; and with them the long train ofpatronage and appointments, their inevitable attendants. Even the oldfamilies of the kingdom hailed the return of an order of things whichmight include them in the favors of the Crown; and the question now was,what rank or class should be foremost in tendering their allegiance tothe new sovereign. We should hesitate ere we condemn the sudden impulseby which many were driven at this period. Confiscation and exile haddone much to break the spirit of even the hardiest; and the very returnto the institutions in which all their ancient prejudices were involvedseemed a pledge against the tyranny of the mass.
As for Napoleon himself, each step in his proud career seemed to evokethe spirit necessary to direct it; the resources of his mighty intellectappeared, with every new drain on them, only the more inexhaustible.Animated through his whole life by the one great principle,--theaggrandizement of France,--his vast intelligence gathering strength withhis own increase of power, enabled him to cultivate every element ofnational greatness, and mould their energies to his will; till at lengththe nation seemed but one vast body, of which he was the heart, theimpulse, that sent the life-blood bounding through all its arteries, andwith whose beating pulses every, even the most remote portion, throbbedin unison.
The same day that established the Empire, declared the rank and dignityaccorded to each member of the royal family, with the titles to be borneby the ministers and other high officers of the Crown. The next stepwas the creation of a new order of nobility,--one which, withoutancient lineage or vast possessions, could still command the respectand admiration of all,--the marshals of France. The names of Berthier,Murat, Augereau, Massena, Bernadotte, Ney, Soult, Lannes, Mortier,Davoust, Bessieres, were enough to throw a blaze of lustre on theorder. And had it not been for the omission of Macdonald's name in thisglorious list, public enthusiasm had been complete; but then he was thefriend of Moreau, and Bonaparte "did not forgive."
The restoration of the old titles so long in abeyance, the return tothe pomp and state of Monarchy, seemed like a national fete, and Parisbecame the scene of a splendid festivity and a magnificence unknownfor many years past. It was necessary for the new Court to make itsimpression on the world; and the endeavor was to eclipse, by luxury andsplendor, the grandeur which in the days of the Bourbons was an heirloomof royalty. To this end functionaries and officers of the Palace wereappointed in myriads; brilliant and costly uniforms adopted; courtlytitles and ceremonial observances increased without end; and etiquette,carried to a pitch of strictness which no former reign had everexhibited, now regulated every department of the state.
While, however, nothing was too minute or too trivial, provided that itbore, even in the remotest way, on the re-establishment of that thronehe had so long and so ardently desired, Napoleon's great mind waseagerly bent upon the necessity of giving to the Empire one of thoseastounding evidences of his genius which marked him as above all othermen. He wished to show to France that the Crown had devolved upon therightful successor to Cha
rlemagne, and to prove to the army that thepurple mantle of royalty could not conceal the spur of the warrior; andthus, while all believed him occupied with the ordinary routine ofthe period, his ambitious thoughts were carrying him away across thePyrenees or beyond the Danube, to battlefields of even greater glorythan ever, and to conquests prouder than all his former ones.
The same power of concentrativeness that he so eminently possessedhimself, he imparted, as if by magic, to his Government. Paris wasFrance; to the capital flocked all whose talent or zeal prompted themto seek for advancement. The Emperor was not only the fountain ofall honor, but of all emolument and place. So patronage was exercisedwithout his permission; and none was conferred without the convictionthat some stanch adherent was secured whose friendship was ratified, orwhose former enmity was conciliated.
Thus passed the year that followed his accession to the throne,--thatbrilliant pageant of a nation's enthusiasm rendering tribute to themajesty of intellect. At length the period of inaction seemed drawing toa close; and a greater activity in the war department, and a new levyof troops, betokened the approach of some more energetic measures.Men whispered that the English expedition was about to sail, andreinforcements of ammunition and artillery were despatched to the coast,when suddenly came the news of Trafalgar. Villeneuve was beaten,--his fleet annihilated,--the whole combination of events destroyed; andEngland, again triumphant on the element she had made her own, hurleddefiance at the threats of her enemy. The same despatch that brought theintelligence to Mayence told us to be in readiness for a movement; butwhen, or where to, none of us could surmise. Still detachments fromvarious corps stationed about were marched into the garrison, skeletonregiments commanded to make up their deficiencies, and a renewed energywas everywhere perceptible. At last, towards the middle of August, I wassent for by the general in command of the fortress, and informed thatGeneral d'Auvergne had been promoted to the command of a cavalry brigadestationed at Coblentz.
"You are to join him there immediately," continued he; "but here is anote from himself, which probably will explain everything." And withthat he handed me a small sealed letter.
It was the first, save on purely regimental matters, I had ever receivedfrom him, and somehow I felt unusually anxious about its contents. Itran in these words:--
My dear B.,--His Majesty has just sent for me, and most graciously esteeming me not yet too old to serve him, has given me the command of a brigade,--late the Twelfth, now to be called 'D'Auvergne's Cavalry.' I would willingly have mentioned your name for promotion, to which your zeal and activity would well entitle you; but deemed it better to let your claim come before the Emperor's personal notice, which an opportunity will, I trust, soon permit of its doing. His Majesty, with a kindness which the devotion of a life could not repay, has also interested himself personally for me in a quarter where only his influence could have proved successful. But the explanation of this I reserve for your arrival. And now I request that you will lose no time in repairing to Paris, where I shall expect to see you by Tuesday.
Yours,
D'AUVERGNE, Lieut. 'General'
This strange paragraph puzzled me not a little; nor could I, by anyexercise of ingenuity, find out even a plausible meaning for it. I readit over and over, weighing and canvassing every word, and torturing eachsyllable; but all to no purpose. Had the general been some youthful butunhappy lover, to forward whose suit the Emperor had lent his influence,then had I understood the allusion; but with the old weather-beatenofficer, whose hairs were blanched with years and service, the verythought of such a thing was too absurd. Yet what could be the royalfavor so lavishly praised? He needed no intercession with the Empress;at least, I remembered well how marked the kindness of Josephine wastowards him in former times. But to what use guessing? Thoughts, by longrevolving, often become only the more entangled, and we lose sight ofthe real difficulty in canvassing our own impressions concerning it. Andso from this text did I spin away a hundred fancies that occupied me thewhole road to Paris, nor left me till the din and movement of the greatcapital banished all other reflections.
Arrangement had been made for my reception at the Rue de Rohan; but Ilearned that the general was at Versailles with the Court, and only cameup to Paris once or twice each week. His direction to me was, to waitfor his arrival, and not to leave the city on any account.
With what a strange feeling did I survey the Palace of theTuileries,--the scene of my first moment of delighted admiration of herI now loved, and, alas! of my first step in the long catalogue of mymisfortunes! I lingered about the gardens with a fascination I could notaccount for; my destiny seemed somehow linked with the spot, and I couldnot reason myself out of the notion but that there, in that great pile,the fate of my whole life was to be decided.
My entire day was passed in this way; and evening found me seated onone of the benches near the windows of the pavilion, where I watched thelustres in the long gallery as one by one they burst into light, and sawthe gilt candelabras twinkling as each taper was illuminated. It was anevening reception of the Emperor, and I could mark the vast assemblage,in every variety of uniform, that filled the salons. At length the drumsbeat for strangers to leave the gardens; the patrols passed on; andgradually the crowded walks became thinner and thinner; the sounds ofthe drum grew fainter; and finally the whole space became still andnoiseless,--not a voice was to be heard, not a step moved on the gravel.I knew that the gates were now locked; and yet I stayed on, glad to bealone, and at leisure to dream away among the fancies that kept everrising to my mind, and to follow out the trains of thought that ever andanon opened before me.
As the hour grew later, and the salons filled more and more, thewindows were opened along the terrace to give air, and I could hear thecontinued murmur of hundreds of voices conversing, while at times thesound of laughter rose above the rest. What a rush of thoughts came onme as I sat! how did I picture to myself the dark intrigues, the subtleplots of wily diplomatists, the bold and daring aspirations of thebrave soldiers, the high hopes and the ambitious yearnings that wereall commingled there, grouped around him whose dreams were of universalempire! While I mused, the night glided on, and the solemn sound of thebell of Notre Dame proclaimed midnight. I now could mark that the salonswere thinning, and the unceasing din of carriages in the Place announcedthe departure of the guests. In little more than half an hour the greatgallery was empty, and but a few groups remained in the apartmentsadjoining. Even they soon departed; and then I could see the servantspassing from room to room extinguishing the lights, and soon the greatfacade of the palace wac wrapped in darkness. A twinkling light appearedhere and there for some time, but it too went out. The night was calmand still and sultry; not a leaf stirred; and the heavy tread of thesentinels as they paced the marble vestibule was heard plainly where Istood.
How full of thought to me was that vast pile, now shrouded in the gloomof night! What bold, ambitious deeds,--what dreams of empire,--had notbeen conceived there! The great of other days, indeed, entered littleinto my mind, as I remembered it was the home of him, the greatest ofthem all. How terrible, too, it was to think, that within that silentpalace, which seemed sleeping with the tranquil quiet of an humblecottage, the dreadful plans which were to convulse the world, to shakethrones and dynasties, to make of Europe a vast battlefield, werenow devising. The masses of dark cloud that hung heavily in the air,obscuring the sky and shutting out every star, seemed to my feveredimagination an augury of evil; and the oppressive, loaded atmosphere,though perfumed with the odor of flowers, sunk heavily on the spirits.Again the hour rang out, and I remembered that the gates of the gardenwere now closed for the night, and that I should remain where I wastill daylight liberated me. My mind was, however, too full of its ownthoughts to make me care for sleep, and I strolled along the gloomywalks lost in revery.
Tom Burke Of Ours, Volume I Page 42
