MY CONVERSATION WITH AN ENGLISHMAN.
26th.—The Emperor continued indisposed.
One of the English gentlemen, whose wife had yesterday been refused admittance, in company with the Admiral, paid me a visit this morning, with the view of making another and a final attempt to get presented to Napoleon. This gentleman spoke French very well, having resided in France during the whole of the war. He was one of those individuals who were known at the time by the title of detenus: who, having visited France as travellers, were arrested there by the First Consul, on the rupture of the treaty of Amiens, by way of reprisal for the seizure of our merchant-ships by the English Government, according to its custom, before the declaration of war. This event gave rise to a long and animated discussion between the two Governments; and even prevented, during the whole of the war, a cartel for the exchange of prisoners. The English ministers persisted in refusing to consider their detained countrymen as prisoners, lest they should, in so doing, make an implicit renunciation of what may perhaps be called their right of piracy. However, their obstinacy cost their countrymen a long captivity. They were detained in France more than ten years; their absence was as long and as irksome, though not so glorious, as that of the besiegers of Troy.
This English gentleman was a brother-in-law of Admiral Burton, the Commander on the Indian station, who lately died. This circumstance might very possibly procure for him an immediate communication with Ministers on his arrival in England. He might perhaps have been appointed by the Admiral to be the bearer of intelligence respecting us. Instead, therefore, of declining conversation, I prolonged it. It lasted more than two hours, and was all calculated on my part with a view to what he might repeat to the Admiral, or communicate to the Government or private circles in England. I will not tire my readers by a recital of it. They would only find the same eternal recapitulation of our reproaches and grievances: a repetition of our complaints and vexations: a continued exposure of the violation of those laws that are esteemed most sacred; of the outrage on our good faith; of the arrogance, impudence, and petty insolence of power. I dwelt particularly on the ill-treatment to which we were here exposed; and on the caprices of the individual who was appointed our keeper. “His glory,” said I, “should consist, not in oppressing, but in relieving us. He should endeavour to make us forget, by his attentions, all the rigour and injustice of his country’s policy. Can he court the reprobation of mankind, when his good fortune enables him to connect his name gloriously with that of the man of the age, the hero of history? Can he object that he is bound by his instructions? But even then, in the spirit of our European manners, honour enables him to interpret them in a suitable manner.”
The Englishman listened to me with great attention. He seemed occasionally to take particular interest in what I said; and expressed his approbation of several of my remarks. But was he sincere, and will he not express very different sentiments in London?
Whenever a ship arrives in England from St. Helena, the public papers immediately give insertion to various stories relative to the captives at Longwood, of so false and absurd a nature, as must necessarily render them ridiculous to the great mass of the public. When we expressed our indignation at these idle reports in the presence of honourable and distinguished Englishmen here, they replied: “Do not deceive yourselves, these false accounts proceed not from our countrymen who visit you; but from our Ministers in London; for, to the excess and violence of power, the administration by which we are now ruled adds all the meanness of the lowest and vilest intrigues.”
ON THE FRENCH EMIGRANTS.—KINDNESS SHEWN BY
THE ENGLISH.—RESOURCES OF THE EMIGRANTS.
27th.—The Emperor felt himself better, and rode out on horseback about one o’clock. On his return he received the officers of the 53rd, and behaved to them in the most amiable and condescending manner.
After this visit, the Emperor, who had desired me to remain with him, walked in the garden. I there gave him an account of the conversation I had had the day before with the Englishman. He then asked me some questions relative to the French emigrants, London, and the English. I told him that though the emigrants in a body did not like the English, yet there were few who did not become attached to some Englishman or other: that though the English were not fond of the emigrants, yet there were few English families who did not shew themselves friendly to some of the French. This is the real key to those sentiments and reports, so often contradictory, that are met with on the subject. With regard to the kindness we received from the English, particularly the middle class, from whom the character of a nation is always to be learned, it is beyond all expression, and has entailed a heavy debt of gratitude upon us. It would be difficult to enumerate the private benefactions, the benevolent institutions, and the charitable measures, by which our distresses were relieved. The example of individuals induced the Government to assist us by regular allowances; and even when these were granted, private benevolence did not cease.
The Emperor here asked me whether I had been a sharer in the grants supplied by the English Government: I told him that I had felt more pleasure in being indebted for support solely to my own exertions; and that the state of society and encouragement of industry in England were such that with this feeling a man was sure to succeed. On two occasions I had had an opportunity of making my fortune: Colbert, Bishop of Rhodez, a native of Scotland, who was very fond of me, proposed that I should accompany his brother to Jamaica, where he was appointed to the head of the executive power, and where he was one of the most considerable planters. He would have intrusted to me the direction of his property, and would have obtained for me other employment of the same kind. The Bishop assured me that I should make a fortune in three years. I could not, however, prevail on myself to go; I preferred continuing a life of poverty, to removing to a greater distance from the French shore.
“On another occasion,” continued I, “some friends wished to persuade me to go to India, where I should have obtained employment and patronage, and was assured that in a short time I should realize a considerable fortune. But this I declined. I thought myself too old to travel so far. This was twenty years ago; and yet I am now at St. Helena.
“However, there were few who suffered greater hardships than I did at the commencement of my emigration, and who enjoyed greater comforts towards its close. I have more than once found myself on the point of being entirely destitute of every thing. Still I was never discouraged or dejected. I consoled myself with the treasure of philosophy, and compared my own condition with that of numbers around me, who were more wretched than myself: to old men and women, for example, to those who were destitute of education, or who, wanting the faculties requisite for acquiring a foreign language, were thus cut off from all resources. I was young, full of hope, and capable of exertion. I taught what I did not well know myself, whatever was asked of me, and I learned over-night what I might have to teach on the succeeding day. My Historical Atlas was a fortunate idea, which opened to me a mine of gold. At that period, however, I had executed only an outline of my plan; but in London every thing is encouraged, every thing sells; and, moreover, Heaven blessed my exertions. I landed at the mouth of the Thames, and reached London on foot, with only seven louis in my pocket, without a friend, without an introduction, in a foreign land; but I left it in a post-chaise, possessed of 2500 guineas, having gained many dear friends, to serve whom I would gladly have sacrificed my life.”
“But, supposing I had been an emigrant,” said the Emperor, “what would have been my lot?” He took a view of various professions, but decided in favour of a soldier’s life. “I should have fulfilled my career after all,” said he.—“That is not quite certain,” I observed. “Sire, you would have been smothered in the crowd. On arriving at Coblentz in any French corps, you would have been placed according to your rank on the list, without any possibility of getting beyond it; for we were rigid observers of forms,” &c.
The Emperor then enquired when and how I had returned to France. “After the peace of Amiens,” said I, “availing myself of the benefit of your amnesty; yet I joined an English family, and slipped in in a sort of contraband way, in order to reach Paris earlier than I otherwise could have done. Immediately on my arrival there, fearing lest I should compromise that family, I went in person to make my declaration to the police, and received a paper which I was to present for inspection once a week or once a month. I paid no attention to it; but nothing happened to me through my neglect. I had determined on conducting myself with prudence, and therefore felt satisfied that I had nothing to fear. At one time, however, I saw that my intention might have cost me dear: it was during the most violent crisis of the affair of Georges and Pichegru. I usually passed my evenings in the society of intimate friends in my own house; I scarcely ever went out. On this occasion, however, impelled by fate, or, perhaps, by the strong interest which I took in passing events, I strolled about in the Faubourg Saint-Germain till rather a late hour in the evening. I missed the way to the Pont de Louis XVI. which I knew so well, and came out upon the Boulevard des Invalides, without knowing where I was. The posts were everywhere increased in number, and each consisted of a doubled guard. I enquired my way of one of the sentinels, and I distinctly heard his comrade, who was a few yards off, ask him why he had not stopped me; he answered that I was doing no harm. I hastened home as fast as I could, terrified at the danger I had so narrowly escaped. I was in formal contravention to the police: the circumstances of my emigration, my name, my habits, and my opinions, all tended to identify me with the malcontents. Every enquiry that could have been instituted respecting me would have been to my prejudice. I could not have referred to any one; and what alarmed me still more was that they would have found five guineas in my pocket. I had, it is true, been in France two years; but these guineas were the last fruits of my industry: I always carried them about me, and I have them with me still. I used to take a pleasure in seeing them: they reminded me of a period of misfortune which had gone by. It is easy to conceive the conclusions which might have been drawn from so many concurring circumstances. In vain would have been my denials and assertions; no credit would have been given to me. I should, no doubt, have suffered considerably; and yet I was not in the least to blame: such is the justice of men! However, I never took the trouble to arrange my business with the police; and yet I never got into any difficulty.
“When I was presented at your Majesty’s court, the emigrants, who were in the same situation as myself, and had been placed under the superintendence of the police for ten years, applied for their emancipation, which they procured; for my part, I determined to let my surveillance die a natural death. Being invited, in your Majesty’s name, to a fête at Fontainebleau, I thought it would be a good jest to apply to the police for a passport. They agreed that it was, strictly speaking, necessary, but declined giving it, on the ground that it would tend to make government ridiculous. At a subsequent period, having become your Majesty’s Chamberlain, I had occasion to go on a private journey; and they then exempted me from all future formality.
“On your Majesty’s return in 1815, being desirous of serving some emigrants who had returned with the King, I went in their name to the police. Being a Councillor of State, all the registers were open to me. After having inspected the article relating to my friends, I felt a curiosity to refer to my own. I found myself designated as a distinguished courtier of the Comte d’Artois, in London. I could not help reflecting on the differences of times, and the changes produced by revolution. However, my register was altogether incorrect. I certainly visited the Comte d’Artois; but not oftener than once a month. As to my being a courtier, if I had been ever so much inclined to be one, the thing was out of my power. I had to provide for my daily subsistence, and I had pride enough to wish to live by my own industry; my time was therefore valuable.” The Emperor was very much amused by my story, and I felt much pleasure in relating it to him.
The Doris frigate sailed this day for Europe.
28th.—Mr. Balcombe’s family called, in the hope of seeing the Emperor, but he was again indisposed. His health declines; this place is evidently unfavourable to him. He sent for me at three o’clock; he was slightly feverish, but felt himself better. He spoke a good deal of the domestic arrangements of the house, which sometimes annoyed him. He then dressed, with the intention of going out. I persuaded him to resume his flannel under-waistcoat, which he had laid aside very imprudently in this damp and variable climate. We took a walk in the garden, and the conversation continued to turn on the same subject as before. The Emperor strolled about at random, and we came to the gum-trees which run along the park, conversing on our local situation, and our relations with the authorities, and speculating on the political events of Europe. We were overtaken by a shower of rain, and were forced to take shelter under a tree. The Grand Marshal and M. de Montholon soon joined us. The Emperor made me return with him; and when we got home, he played a game at piquet in the drawing-room with Madame de Montholon. As it was very damp, the Emperor ordered a fire; but as soon as it was lighted, we were driven away by the smoke, and were compelled to take refuge in the Emperor’s chamber. Here the game was resumed; but it was very soon suspended by the Emperor’s conversation, which became most interesting. He entertained us with anecdotes and minute details of his domestic life; and confirmed, corrected, or contradicted those which Madame de Montholon and myself related to him, as having been publicly circulated. Nothing could be more gratifying: the conversation was quite confidential, and we sincerely regretted its interruption by the announcement of dinner.
DIFFICULT EXCURSION.—RIDE TO THE VALLEY.—THE
MARSH.—CHARACTERISTIC TRAITS.—ENGLISHMEN
UNDECEIVED.—POISON OF MITHRIDATES.
29th.—There is a spot in the grounds about Longwood, which commands a distant view of that part of the sea where the ships are first seen on their arrival: here, too, is a tree at the foot of which the spectator may survey it at his ease. I had been in the habit, for some days, of spending a few idle moments here, amusing myself, in idea, with looking out for the ship that was to conclude our exile. The celebrated Münich lingered out twenty years in the heart of Siberia, drinking every day to his return to St. Petersburg, and was at length blessed with the accomplishment of his wish. I shall possess his courage; but I trust I shall not have occasion for his patience.
Ships had successively appeared for several days. Three came in sight very early this morning, two of which I judged to be ships of war.—On my return home, I was informed that the Emperor had already risen: I went to the garden to meet him, and to acquaint him with my discovery. He ordered breakfast to be brought to him under a tree, and desired me to keep him company. After breakfast, he directed me to ride out with him on horse-back. We rode along by the side of the gum-trees, beyond the confines of Longwood, and then attempted to descend into a very steep and deeply-furrowed valley, whose sides were covered with sand and loose stones, interspersed with brambles. We were obliged to dismount. The Emperor desired General Gourgaud to turn off to one side with the horses and the two grooms who accompanied us, and insisted on continuing his journey on foot, amidst the difficulties which surrounded us. I gave him my arm, and, with a great deal of trouble, we succeeded in clambering over the ridges. The Emperor lamented the loss of his youthful agility, and accused me of being more active than himself. He thought that there was a greater difference in this respect than the trifling disproportion of our ages would justify. I told him that the pleasure of serving him made me forget my age. As we were going along, he observed that any one who could have seen us at that time would recognize without difficulty the restlessness and impatience of the French character. “In fact,” said he, “none but Frenchmen would ever think of doing what we are now about.” At length we arrived, breathless, at the bottom of the valley. What we had at a distance mistaken for a beaten road, proved to be nothing but a little streamlet, a foot and a half wide. We proposed to step across it and wait for our horses; but the banks of this little streamlet were very treacherous. They appeared to consist of dry ground which at first supported us, but we soon found ourselves suddenly sinking, as though we had been breaking through ice. I had already sunk nearly above my knees, when, by a sudden effort, I disengaged myself, and turned to assist the Emperor, who had both legs in the mud, and had got his hands on the ground, endeavouring to extricate himself. With a great deal of trouble, and a great deal of dirt, we regained the terra firma; and I could not help thinking of the marshes of Arcole, which we had been engaged in describing a few days before, and in which Napoleon was very near being lost. The Emperor looked at his clothes and said, “Las Cases, this is a dirty adventure. If we had been lost in the mud,” added he, “what would have been said in Europe? The canting hypocrites would have proved, beyond a doubt, that we had been swallowed up for our crimes.”
The horses being at length brought to us, we continued our journey, breaking through hedges, and leaping over ridges; and with great difficulty rode up the whole length of the valley, which separates Longwood from Diana’s Peak. We returned by the way of Madame Bertrand’s residence; it was three o’clock when we reached home. We then learned that the vessels which had been seen in the morning were a brig and a transport from England, and an American ship.
The Emperor sent for me about seven o’clock; he was with the Grand Marshal, who was reading to him the newspapers from the 9th to the 16th of October. He had not done reading at nine o’clock. The Emperor, astonished to find it so late, hastily rose and went to the table, complaining of being kept waiting for his dinner. They were stupid enough to give a very ridiculous reason for the delay. This domestic irregularity irritated him very much; and then he was angry with himself for having given vent to his anger; so the dinner passed off in dulness and silence.
However, on returning to the drawing-room, to the dessert, the Emperor began to converse on the news which the papers had brought us: the conditions of peace, the fortresses ceded to foreign powers, and the fermentation of the great cities of Europe. He treated these subjects in a masterly style. He retired early; and had evidently not forgotten the moment preceding dinner.
He soon sent for me, being desirous to continue the perusal of the papers. As I was preparing to read, he recollected the state of my eyes, and would not allow me. I begged to be permitted to continue, telling him that I read quickly, and should soon have finished them; but he took them away from me, saying, “We cannot command nature. I forbid it; I will wait till to-morrow.” He then began to walk about a little, and soon gave utterance to the feelings which had oppressed his spirits. How amiable he appeared in his reproaches and complaints! How humane and kind he seemed! How just and true was every observation that escaped him! These were a few of the precious moments when Nature, taken by surprise, exposes the inmost recesses of the human heart and character. I left him, saying within myself, as I have so often had occasion to say: “Good God, how little has the character of the Emperor been known to the world!”
They are, however, beginning here to form a more just opinion of him. Those Englishmen whose violent prejudices against him were in a great degree excusable from the false accounts they had received, begin now to entertain a more correct idea of his character. They allow that they are strangely undeceived every day, and that the Emperor is a very different being from that Napoleon whose image had been traced to them through the medium of falsehood and political interests. All those who have had opportunities of seeing him and hearing him converse, have but one opinion on the subject. The Admiral has more than once, in the midst of our disputes with him, hastily exclaimed that the Emperor was decidedly the most good-natured, just, and reasonable of the whole set. And he was in the right.
On another occasion, an Englishman, whom we frequently saw, confessed to Napoleon, with the utmost humility of heart, and as it were by way of expiation, that he had to reproach his conscience with having once firmly believed all the abominable falsehoods related of him. He had given credit to all the accounts of stranglings, massacres, and brutal ferocity; in short, he even believed in the deformities of his person, and the hideous features of his countenance. “And how,” said he candidly, “could I help crediting all this? Our English publications were filled with these statements; they were in every mouth; not a single voice was raised to contradict them.”—“Yes,” said Napoleon, smiling, “it is to your Ministers that I am indebted for these favours: they inundated Europe with pamphlets and libels against me. Perhaps they might say, in excuse, that they did but reply to those which they received from France; and it must in justice be confessed that those Frenchmen who have since been seen to exult over the ruins of their country felt no hesitation in furnishing them with such articles in abundant supplies.
“Be this as it may, I was repeatedly urged during the period of my power, to adopt measures for counteracting this underhand work; but I always declined it. What advantage should I have gained by such a defence? It would have been said that I had paid for it, and that would only have discredited me still more. Another victory, another monument,—these, I said, are the best, the only answers I can make. Falsehood passes away, and truth remains! The sensible portion of the present age, and posterity in particular, will form their judgment only from facts. And what has been the consequence? Already the cloud is breaking; the light is piercing through, and my character grows clearer every day. It will soon become the fashion in Europe to do me justice. Those who have succeeded me possess the archives of my administration and police, and the records of my tribunals: they hold in their pay, and at their disposal, those who must have been the perpetrators and the accomplices of my atrocities and crimes; yet what proofs have they brought forward? What have they made known?
“The first moments of fury being passed away, all honest and sensible men will render justice to my character; none but rogues or fools will be my enemies. I may rest at ease; the succession of events, the disputes of opposing parties, their hostile productions, will daily clear the way for the correct and glorious materials of my history. And what advantage has been reaped from the immense sums that have been paid for libels against me? Every trace of them will soon be obliterated; while my institutions and monuments will recommend me to the remotest posterity.
“It is now, moreover, too late to heap abuse upon me. The venom of calumny,” said he, repeating an idea which he had before expressed, “has been exhausted on me; it can no longer injure me; it operates only like poison on Mithridates.”