A Day in the Life
By Sheperd Paine
The first question that comes to mind in considering the daily life
of Napoleon is why, at the dawn of the twenty-first century, we
should concern ourselves with the trivial details of a man who lived
two hundred years ago. The first answer is that Napoleon was not
born to royalty, and his lifestyle gives us a glimpse into the way many
upper class people lived at the time. The second and far more important
answer is that it allows us to study the mind and methods of the
most brilliantly talented chief executive officer ever to manage
a major human enterprise.
The Ceremonial Monarch
The royal courts of Europe in Napoleon’s day were fossilized
in often meaningless ceremony, to a point where some monarchs did
little but participate in a series of public rituals from the moment
they arose to the moment they went to bed. This clearly did not
suite the style of a hands-on ruler like Napoleon. Although he realized
the importance of pomp and ceremony in establishing the prestige
of the monarchy, he never let it interfere with running his empire.
He recognized in his own person two separate beings: the man, who
needed to retain his freedom to think, to work and to live as he
pleased; and the sovereign, whose role was designed to maintain
the mystery and dignity of the crown. "A king," he said, "does not
exist in nature, he exists only in civilization; there cannot be
a naked king — he is only a king when he is dressed." Napoleon
restricted his ceremonial functions to those which were directly
symbolic of the duties which he carried out in private. Superfluous
rituals quickly fell by the wayside.
The Emperor’s living quarters reflected these different roles.
The state apartments were for public and ceremonial occasions; the
private apartments were the inner sanctum in which he lived and
Napoleon spent an average of three months a year at the Tuileries,
more than in all his other residences combined. He may have been
Emperor, but at heart he was still the junior officer who could
pack and be off at a moment’s notice when the trumpet sounded
"to horse." It was not unusual for him to suddenly decide one evening
to start for Malmaison or St. Cloud, and his household staff had
to be ready to move at a moment’s notice. This was partly
the habit of a footloose soldier, but was more a reflection of his
restless mind, which enjoyed the stimulation of continual activity
Napoleon had a passion for consistency and routine, which was closely
related to his extraordinary powers of organization. Wherever he
went, he liked to find the rooms arranged in the same order as they
were at the Tuileries. In particular, he wished his private apartments
in each location to be identical, even down to the design and arrangement
of the furniture. Napoleon's personal necessities were contained
in a few small chests, which moved with him from place to place.
He was very much a man of simple habits, with few special needs
or requirements. As soon as his personal necessities were unpacked
and his portfolios open, he felt at home. For this reason, all of
his palaces had the air of an inn, a temporary place of residence
that could change at a moment's notice. He took little notice of
sumptuous surroundings, although as Emperor he invariably found
himself immersed in them. His only insistence was that his working
environment be the same wherever he went.
The Imperial Apartments at the Tuileries
The Emperor's apartments were on the north end of the Tuileries,
just south of the Pavilion de Flore, which is now part of the Louvre.
The rest of the Tuileries Palace burned during the Commune of 1871
and was torn down. Napoleon's rooms in the Tuileries were arranged
in the following manner.
The Antechamber, or waiting room, was normally occupied by several pages waiting
to run errands and an NCO of the garde à cheval. The next
room was the Salon de Service. Here were stationed the more
senior members of his staff: aides de camp, chamberlains
etc. Access to this room was restricted, but senior officials could
come and go as they chose. The next room was the Emperor's
Salon which was used for audiences with the Emperor. These first
three rooms constituted the outer apartments. Here Napoleon
met formally with his visitors, and conducted official business.
The remaining rooms were considered the Emperor's inner apartments,
to which only a handful of close advisors ever gained admission,
and where he dressed as he pleased.
The first of these private rooms was the Emperor's
Cabinet, or study, his sanctum sanctorum, and next
to it the Topographical Study or map room. In a small room off to
one side a clerk received incoming dispatches and reports from the
narrow hallway, sorted them, and passed them through a window into
these most private of offices.
Opening off the map room was a short passage that led to the Emperor's
bedroom and dressing room. Although the bedroom was ornately decorated,
the furnishings were sparse, being restricted to a large bed on
a platform at one end, a few gilt chairs and a chest of drawers.
A door to one side led to a small private staircase connecting to
the Empress's bedroom below. During the Consulate, Napoleon
and Josephine shared the bedroom downstairs, but in later years
as the demands of government grew he felt more comfortable sleeping
closer to his place of work. These seven rooms composed the full
extent of the Imperial private apartments. In each doorway leading
into the private apartments stood a doorkeeper or usher, and sometimes
both. These men were unarmed, except for the doorkeeper in the stairwell
by the Antechamber, who was provided with a ceremonial halberd and
Security at the Palace
There were no other guards posted, and not a single soldier. The
only military guard in this section of the Palace was a ceremonial
detachment of 20 men posted below the state apartments, and a single
sentry at the public passageway under the central pavilion. There
were additional detachments of horse and foot posted elsewhere in
the Palace and on the grounds, totaling 118 men in all, but this
was the extent of the daily garrison.
Security at night was much the same, with the staff officers, pages
and servants sleeping at their posts so as to be ready at a moment’s
notice if their services were needed. The Emperor’s mameluk,
Roustam, slept outside the door of his bedroom and the valet and
wardrobe assistant slept in closets nearby.
To gain access to the Emperor when an urgent dispatch arrived during
the night, the aide de camp would knock on the door against which
the mameluk lay. Roustam would then open the door, let the aide
pass through, and then shut it carefully so the man would be satisfied
that no one had followed him in. The aide then knocked on the bedchamber
door, which the Emperor would open only if he recognized the voice.
These were the only security precautions taken to protect the life
of the most important man in Europe. One night the Comte de Segur
found a man perched on a window sill waiting for a chance to slip
inside, and in 1802 a deranged ex-soldier managed to get into the
antechamber before he was disarmed and led away, but these are the
only incidents on record. While there was no shortage of conspiracies
against Napoleon, none of these targeted the Tuileries because it
was assumed he would be well guarded there.
The Morning Routine
Being a man of habit, Napoleon’s daily routine rarely varied.
He got by comfortably on only six hours of sleep and had the ability
to doze and wake at will, whether he took those six hours straight
or broken into intervals. In any case, his day started early. He
would often wake up at midnight, go into his study and work for
several hours, and then go back to bed.
In the morning, his valet-de-chambre, Constant, would enter
his bedroom between six and seven. Napoleon would wake cheerfully
and ask Constant to open the windows so he could breath some fresh
air. He had a horror of bad smells (peculiar in one who spent so
much of his life on battlefields) and of stuffy rooms; the smell
of fresh paint made him ill. The only scent he liked in his rooms
was that of aloe wood, a fancy he brought back with him from Egypt.
As soon as the room was aired, the Emperor would rise, wrap himself
in his dressing gown and sit down by the fire to open and read the
newest correspondence, setting aside the ones that needed attention
and scattering the rest across the carpet, which were then considered
"answered." He quickly scanned the newspapers, and his list of appointments
for the day.
In busy times he would often go directly into his study, where his
secretary was already preparing the day's business. He could spend
as little as a few minutes or as long as an hour, depending on the
urgency of the situation, before resuming the day’s routine.
He then went into the dressing room to wash and dress, a daily ritual
during which he often consulted with a number of his personal advisors
— his architect, his librarian, and his doctors. Napoleon
was not the least bit bashful about bathing or washing in front
of others, whether they be servants, staff officers, or in the field,
the entire army.
Although Baron Larrey was Surgeon-general of the Army, he was not
Napoleon’s personal physician. This honor was shared by several
men, of whom the most prominent was Doctor Corvisart, a man in his
late forties in whose opinion the Emperor had great confidence.
Corvisart visited on Wednesdays and Saturdays, and the distinguished
physician was usually greeted with a jocular " Hello, you old quack!
How many patients have you killed today?"
Such joking was common during this petit levée, and typical
of Napoleon’s working relationship with his close associates.
If the doctor wasn’t there, he would chatter away with his
valets, seeking the informal news of the town and the latest
palace gossip, even down to the servant's level. During this time
he would have a cup of tea or orange-flower water in a silver cup
from his traveling kit. He sweetened it himself, but if he detected
the slightest bad taste he rejected it immediately. It was the only
precaution he took against poison.
Having put on his favorite red or green slippers, which, like many
men, he used until they were embarrassingly shabby, he retired to
his bath. The hot bath was a passion, and he often stayed in it
for an hour, continually turning on the hot-water tap and raising
the temperature until clouds of steam filled the room and the servants
were forced to open the door to air it out. The time spent in the
tub was not wasted, however, as he often listened to his dispatches
or read his newspapers while he soaked.
Napoleon had an obsession with personal cleanliness far beyond the
standards of his day, but the bath served another function as well.
From his infancy, he had suffered what was described as "an obstinate
constipation," and first experienced hemorrhoids during the Italian
Campaign (he proudly claimed to have cured this attack with the
application of three or four leeches, but the less said of that
solution the better). At any rate, the bath soothed his discomfort,
and as the years passed he would remain longer and longer, until
at St. Helena he seemed to pass entire days and nights in the water.
Finished with his bath, Napoleon would put on an undershirt,
simple white overalls with feet, and a white dressing gown, these
garments being of cotton in the summer and wool in the winter. On
his head he kept the bandanna he had slept in, knotted over the
forehead with the two loose ends passing back over his shoulders.
In this costume he would begin to shave. For daily grooming he made
use of one of several elaborate traveling cases made for him by
the court jeweler Biennais. In an era when every middle class merchant
had a servant to shave him every day, Napoleon liked to do the job
Constant had taught him to use a straight razor early in his reign,
but apparently he wasn't really good at it, and would occasionally
cut himself. Roustam would hold the mirror, and Constant the basin,
towel and soap. After shaving, he would wash his hands with almond
paste and rose soap, and then his face with fine sponges.
He then picked his teeth very carefully with a boxwood tooth pick, brushed
them for some time with an opiate, and then again with fine tooth
powder, finally rinsing his mouth with a mixture of brandy and water.
Then he scraped his tongue with a silver scraper. It was to these
fastidious habits that he ascribed the perfect preservation of his
teeth, in an age where many people had none left by the age of twenty
The final act was a generous application of eau de cologne over his
entire body, followed by a vigorous brushing of the skin with a
stiff bristled brush This was a habit he seems to have acquired
in Egypt, and his assistants were not allowed to do this gently,
being urged on with repeated admonitions of "harder! harder!"
From time to time, the Imperial hairdresser Duplan, who spent most
of his time catering to the Empress, would appear to cut the emperor's
The Imperial Wardrobe
After finishing his ablutions, Napoleon
dressed, first in a flannel undershirt, over which he often wore
a neck cord with a small packet of poison. This packet was never
changed, and when he finally attempted to use it in 1814, it had
lost its potency and only made him violently ill. Next came a linen
shirt, followed by light woolen socks and silk stockings, kept up
by elastic garters.
The drawers worn in this period were knee length, similar in cut to
the breeches which were worn over them. His shoes were finely made
and carefully broken in for him for him by one of the servants who
had the same size foot. His riding boots were specially lined with
soft material so he could wear them over his regular stockings.
At the neck he wore a thin cravat of muslin, and a stiff black stock. The
waistcoat was of the same fine white kerseymere as the breeches.
He put on a fresh, clean waistcoat and breeches every morning. However
careful he may have been with his person, this fastidiousness did
not extend to his clothes. He thought nothing of wiping his pen
on his breeches, and routinely splattered ink on his waistcoat as
he signed documents. Since these were washed only a few times before
being discarded, he went though them at an alarming rate. 48 were
supplied yearly and were supposed to last three years, but a wardrobe
inventory in 1811 found only 74, in place of the 144 that should
have been there.
Napoleon had only two swords in constant use, the one carried at Austerlitz
that is now preserved in the Musée de l'Armée, and a second one
of similar design. These were worn on a small waist or shoulder
belt, normally concealed by the waistcoat.
Finally the Emperor was handed his coat, usually the green with
red facings of the Chasseurs à Cheval of the Imperial Guard.
On Sundays and state occasions he would wear the blue dress coat
of the Foot Grenadiers. The epaulettes for these coats were smaller
and lighter than usual. He disliked the bother of dismounting the
epaulettes and swinging them down onto the chest for wear under
an overcoat, as was the usual practice, and had his overcoats specially
tailored to fit over the epaulettes in their mounted position.<
On the left breast of the coat he wore the breast star of the Legion of
Honor, and a couple of small decorations. Initially, he wore only
the simple red ribbon and silver medal of a chevalier of the Legion
of Honor; after Austerlitz, he wore the gold cross of an officer,
unusually coupled with the order of the Iron Crown of Italy. Occasionally
these would be joined by the light blue ribbon of the ordre de
la Réunion. He generally wore the sash of the Legion of honor
under his coat, showing a thin red line between the edge of the
coat and waistcoat. The sash was worn over the coat only on state
As he prepared to leave his apartment, the emperor took his hat, the one
that Wellington said was worth 50,000 men on the field of battle.
This famous piece of headgear was of plain black felt, with no border
or lace, and ornamented only with the tricolor cockade held in place
by a simple black ribbon. It was not a terribly practical hat; in
the rain it would sometimes lose its stiffness and the front and
back would flop down over his neck and face. But it was his trademark
and he was constant to it. He always had it with him, even indoors.
He carried it by the front flap, and often waved it about in conversation.
When he was angry (or wished people to think he was) he would throw
it to the ground and kick it with his foot.
In his pockets, he carried a linen handkerchief scented with eau de cologne,
an eyeglass, a bonbonière with bits of licorice, and a snuff
box. He was slightly shortsighted, and often made use of an eyeglass
or telescope, even when at home in Paris. Although numerous jeweled
snuff boxes associated with Napoleon survive, these were generally
given as gifts. For personal use he preferred simpler oval tortoise
shell or wooden ones, lined with gold and decorated with cameos
or antique coins. He went though large quantities of snuff, but
rarely sniffed it. Instead he would take large doses, pass them
under his nose, and discard them.
He never carried money and does not seem to have habitually carried a watch.
When he did, he was hard on them, dropping them to the floor with
his clothes when he undressed, or throwing them to the ground in
anger like he did his hat. His watches were of simple design, but
made by the finest makers. They spent a lot of time being repaired.
The Morning Levée
At 9:00am the chamberlain came to the door of the bedroom and the Emperor
left to attend the first official function of his day, the morning
levée. This was a formal gathering at which the principal
activity was the issuing of orders — no jocular exchanges,
no little stories to be told, no kind expressions of concern. Those
attending were there to hand in reports and receive orders. All
would be in the impressive costume specified for their office: Tallyrand,
the Grand Chamberlain, in the prescribed coat of red, Cambacères
in the violet coat of the Arch-Chancellor, Lebrun wearing the black
of the Arch-Treasurer. Ministers, marshals, senators, deputies,
tribunes, prefects and generals all wore blue, differentiated by
the color and pattern of their embroidery.
In the Emperor's Salon, they would form an informal circle, along
which the Emperor would pass, exchanging a few words with each person.
Without preparation and without consulting notes, he would question
his visitors sharply on a wide variety of subjects. The atmosphere
was strictly business, and he was not above giving a public rebuke
to those who have fallen short of his expectations. The levée
did not last long, for there was no idle talk and anything that
needed to be discussed in greater depth would be treated in private
audiences, which began as soon as those attending the levée
were ushered out.
Except for the ministers, nearly all of those seeking an audience had requests.
Many were requests for money. To some he gave, to others he loaned.
Small amounts were paid out in cash; for larger ones he wrote a
quick order to the treasury. Since the Emperor had already screened
the requests, those granted an audience could be confident of getting
at least part of what they came for. The interviews were short and
formal, being restricted to a few questions and an abrupt conclusion.
There was never any familiarity; he rarely so much as shook hands.
He hated to be thanked, and dismissed his visitors with a quick
nod when the interview was concluded. Napoleon had never mastered
(nor cared to) the art of light conversation with the ladies, and
women supplicants were often offended by his abrupt manner.
The dining routine at the beginning of the nineteenth century consisted
of only two meals a day. The first of these, the déjeuner,
was resting under silver covers on a small table in the antechamber
at 9:30, waiting for the Emperor to give notice of his readiness
to eat. The audiences often delayed its serving an hour or more,
during which time, in spite of the best efforts of the servants,
it often grew cold and stale. Napoleon’s attitude toward food
was simple. "If you want to eat well," he would tell people, "dine
with the Second Consul; if you want to eat a lot, visit the Third
Consul; if you want to eat quickly, dine with me." The table was
carried into the salon and the meal served under the auspices of
the maître d’hôtel. The menu was simple and allowed
the maître d’hôtel little chance to display his artistry.
A soup, a choice of several main courses, two side dishes, rolls,
and coffee, were washed down with a bottle of chambertin.<
Napoleon was not a fussy eater, but expressed a preference for plain roast
or sautéed chicken, à l'italienne or à la
marengo, fried foods and pastries. He was particularly fond
of pasta with parmesan cheese. His meat was always well done. He
maintained no private cellar, and his wine was almost always chambertin,
heavily watered. The service on which the meal was served was entirely
of silver, but of a simple and unostentatious design. Gold vermeil
was use only on Sundays and state occasions.
Napoleon nearly always ate his déjeuner alone, although a stream of
visitors came and went. He ate hastily and rather messily, going
swiftly from soup to main course to dessert and back again until
he was satisfied, in the end leaving a substantial part of the meal
untouched. In seven or eight minutes he was done, and ready to turn
his attention to his visitors.
He enjoyed the laughter of children, and often had his nieces and nephews call
on him during the déjeuner. He teased them mischievously,
and enjoyed a raucous good time. After the King of Rome was born,
the governess was instructed to bring the child every day at this
time, and the Emperor would laugh and play with his son. The Empress
often joined them. He also entertained artists and scholars
at the déjeuner, discussing their latest works and discoveries.
The artists were sometimes invited to make sketches, but this was
primarily an occasion for the informal exchange of ideas.
If the Empress wasn't present at his déjeuner, he would sometimes
make a quick trip down the private stairs to join her briefly for
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