|
Prince
Andrew jumped up as if someone had burned him, and again began
pacing
up and down in front of the shed.
CHAPTER
XXVI
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 absent-mindedly, 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.
CHAPTER
XXVII
On
the twenty-fifth of August, so his historians tell us, Napoleon
spent
the
whole day on horseback inspecting the locality, considering plans
submitted
to him by his marshals, and personally giving commands to his
generals.
The
original line of the Russian forces along the river Kolocha had
been
dislocated
by the capture of the Shevardino Redoubt on the twenty-
fourth,
and part of the line--the left flank--had been drawn back. That
part
of the line was not entrenched and in front of it the ground was
more
open and level than elsewhere. It was evident to anyone, military
or
not, that it was here the French should attack. It would seem
that
not
much consideration was needed to reach this conclusion, nor any
particular
care or trouble on the part of the Emperor and his marshals,
nor
was there any need of that special and supreme quality called
genius
that
people are so apt to ascribe to Napoleon; yet the historians who
described
the event later and the men who then surrounded Napoleon, and
he
himself, thought otherwise.
Napoleon
rode over the plain and surveyed the locality with a profound
air
and in silence, nodded with approval or shook his head dubiously,
and
without communicating to the generals around him the profound
course
of
ideas which guided his decisions merely gave them his final
conclusions
in the form of commands. Having listened to a suggestion
from
Davout, who was now called Prince d'Eckmuhl, to turn the Russian
left
wing, Napoleon said it should not be done, without explaining why
not.
To a proposal made by General Campan (who was to attack the
fleches)
to lead his division through the woods, Napoleon agreed, though
| 
댓글 없음:
댓글 쓰기