Bonaparte had many singular habits and tastes.  Whenever he experienced any vexation, or when any unpleasant thought occupied his mind, he would hum something which was far from resembling a tune, for his voice was very unmusical.  He would, at the same time, seat himself before the writing-table, and swing back in his chair so far that I have often been fearful of his falling.

He would then vent his ill-humour on the right arm of his chair, mutilating it with his penknife, which he seemed to keep for no other purpose.  I always took care to keep good pens ready for him; for, as it was my business to decipher his writing, I had a strong interest in doing what I could to make it legible.

The sound of bells always produced in Bonaparte pleasurable sensations, which I could never account for.  When we were at Malmaison, and walking in the alley leading to the plain of Ruel, how many times has the bell of the village church interrupted our most serious conversations!

He would stop, lest the noise of our footsteps should drown any portion of the delightful sound:  He was almost angry with me because I did not experience the impressions he did.  So powerful was the effect produced upon him by the sound of these bells that his voice would falter as he said, “Ah! that reminds me of the first years I spent at Brienne!  I was then happy!” When the bells ceased he would resume the course of his speculations, carry himself into futurity, place a crown on his head; and dethrone kings.

Nowhere, except on the field of battle, did I ever see Bonaparte more happy than in the gardens of Malmaison.  At the commencement of the Consulate we used to go there every Saturday evening, and stay the whole of Sunday, and sometimes Monday.  Bonaparte used to spend a considerable part of his time in walking and superintending the improvements which he had ordered.  At first he used to make excursions about the neighbourhood, but the reports of the police disturbed his natural confidence, and gave him reason to fear the attempts of concealed royalist partisans.

During the first four or five days that Bonaparte spent at Malmaison he amused himself after breakfast with calculating the revenue of that domain.  According to his estimates it amounted to 8000 francs.  “That is not bad!” said he; “but to live here would require au income of 30,000 livres!” I could not help smiling to see him seriously engaged in such a calculation.

Bonaparte had no faith in medicine.  He spoke of it as an art entirely conjectural, and his opinion on this subject was fired and incontrovertible.  His vigorous mind rejected all but demonstrative proofs.

He had little memory for proper name, words, or dates, but he had a wonderful recollection of facts and places.  I recollect that, on going from Paris to Toulon, he pointed out to me ten places calculated for great battles, and he never forgot them.  They were memoranda of his first youthful journeys.