Jean d'Ormesson - The Conversation

Finally, why Bonaparte? The reasons are quite simple. Because he was a genius. Because he was the successor to Achilles, Caesar, and Alexander the Great. Because he changed the course of history and in the process helped shape the world in which we now live. He failed, but he failed in dazzling fashion, leaving a trail of powder across Europe. And most of all, because his was one of the most extraordinary historic and romantic adventures of all times. Most rulers who left their mark upon their time inherited power, ascending to power upon the death of their fathers, or brothers, or uncles. Napoleon was the child of his own achievements. He gave rise to himself. He was a living myth, a self-created legend, a self-made god. He was that rare element found at the source of greatness, whether in politics, art, literature, or science, for his ambitions were transformed into history, his dreams moved to the point of being realized. That intersection between dream and reality is what I am attempting to capture here, akin though it is to trying to pinpoint the origin of the Iliad , or what would later become the Roman Empire, or Michelangelo’s Moses, or the theory of gravitation.

Nonetheless, it is not impossible, and not even unreasonable, to imagine that this conversation took place as recounted in these pages. The staff has struck the stage three times. The curtain rises.

( The action takes place in the Tuileries, where Bonaparte took up residence on the day after 18 Brumaire. Sometime around the beginning of the winter of 1803–1804, the First Consul was paid a visit by the Second Consul. )

CAMBACÉRÈS

Citizen First Consul, I believe we have completed our business. With your permission I will now leave you, for I dine this evening with Talleyrand.

BONAPARTE

At his home on the Rue du Bac? Or at the Hôtel Gallifet?

CAMBACÉRÈS

Neither. At my home in the Hôtel Elbeuf.

BONAPARTE

Are you comfortable there, at Elbeuf? I cannot help but notice that it is considerably smaller than the Hôtel Nouilles, where the Third Consul has taken up residence.

CAMBACÉRÈS

You are well informed. Nouilles is located on Rue Saint-Honoré. Elbeuf faces the Carousel, or almost, and mere steps away from the Tuileries. Saints always find it to their advantage to be as close as possible to the object of their veneration.

BONAPARTE

Saint you may be, though I’ve heard that one dines well in your company.

CAMBACÉRÈS

I trust that isn’t a reproach!

BONAPARTE

Merely a statement of fact.

CAMBACÉRÈS

You reassure me.

BONAPARTE

A healthy appetite isn’t your own only flaw, Citizen Second Consul. Merely the one that one can discuss with greatest ease.

CAMBACÉRÈS

Good heavens, you do speak plainly! How are you going to keep your friends if you cannot focus on their good features? I have learned that the dinner table is the best place to influence men. Good politics go hand in hand with good food.

BONAPARTE

At least in your case. I’m told that diplomatic pouches are being used not only for dispatches but for delicacies, often from enemy countries.

CAMBACÉRÈS

I must say that nothing escapes those henchmen Fouché surrounds himself with.

BONAPARTE

I have no need of Fouché to stay abreast of what goes on in Paris and in France. You would do well to consider that your partridges are roasted on one side and grilled on the other.

CAMBACÉRÈS

What do you expect of me? You are the First Consul, I am but the Second. To each his strengths. You bring military victories. I serve memorable meals. A successful dinner party is my Marengo.

BONAPARTE

Have you heard that phrase going around Paris? “If you want to eat badly, dine with Lebrun. If you want to eat well, choose Cambacérès.”

CAMBACÉRÈS

“. . and if you want to eat fast, dine with Bonaparte.” Yes, I’ve heard it.

BONAPARTE

That’s quite true, I do eat quickly. When I win battles it is due to the legs of my soldiers. In politics, where one always has to prepare for an event by means of conversation, I tend to go straight to the point. As for dining, I eat little. My lunch is served at half past nine on a small mahogany server perched on a little pedestal encrusted with mother of pearl and covered with a napkin. This reminds me of the drum I use at war. The fare is quite simple: two fried eggs, a string-bean salad, two or three olives, and a wedge of parmesan soaked in Chambertin. I eat rapidly. When I’m alone, the meal lasts only a few minutes. I have other things to do and I hate wasting time.

CAMBACÉRÈS

And you haven’t. A junior lieutenant at sixteen, a lieutenant at twenty-two. .

BONAPARTE

Six years to go from a junior to a full lieutenant. Yet my enemies accuse me of being a man in a hurry! Without Robespierre and the National Convention, without you, Cambacérès, and without those aligned with you, I would still be but a colonel in some obscure regiment. Perhaps that is where my impatience came into play.

CAMBACÉRÈS

You caught up quickly: captain at twentythree, commander at twenty-four, and general at twenty-five. First Consul of the Republic at thirty. The sun rises more slowly that you do. One would almost say you lacked for time.

BONAPARTE

I always lack for time. Ah, Cambacérès! Where will we be in two years, in ten years, in twelve?

CAMBACÉRÈS

You’re young. I’m growing old. I’m a year older than Talleyrand, six older than Fouché, and sixteen older than you. I have just turned fifty. Like many of those around you — Junot, Duroc, Lannes, who would all die gladly for you — I have more than respect for who you are and something more than admiration for your genius. Something that perhaps resembles love.

BONAPARTE

Love!

CAMBACÉRÈS

Veneration, at least. I am your Second Consul. I have no ambition other than to spend what time I have left as your second-in-command. (He gets up.) I’ve said too much. I should leave you. Permit me the honor of offering you my farewell.

BONAPARTE

Remain with me a little while longer, Citizen Second Consul. I am not against speaking a little more openly with you, and no, not about delicacies such as foie gras, mauviettes de Pithiviers, and pâté de Toulouse.

CAMBACÉRÈS

With great pleasure. My time is yours. What is on your mind?

BONAPARTE

I would like to get your views, my dear colleague, on my current position.

CAMBACÉRÈS

To be honest, Citizen First Consul, you have no reason to be concerned. Fouché, who by dint of his surveillance efforts knows not only everything about me but about all of our fellow citizens, must have informed you before you escaped his clutches. France adores you. The glory brought by the wars in Italy and Egypt have thrilled them and the Peace of Amiens has reassured them. For the first time in years, a sliver of happiness and hope has supplanted anguish. And those outside our borders bend our way — and fear you.

BONAPARTE

Yes, yes, I know all this. The French love panache and have rediscovered a little of their merriment and carefree cheer. They have shown their devotion to me. And foreigners do treat me well. Yet to them nothing about our government seems stable. No one seems to know where they stand with France. I will tell you something. Nor do I.