RESIDENCE AT BRIARS.
FROM THE 16th OF OCTOBER 1815,
THE DAY OF OUR LANDING AT SAINT-HELENA,
TO THE 9th OF DECEMBER, THE DAY PRECEDING THAT
OF OUR REMOVAL TO LONGWOOD.
An interval of a Month and Twenty-four Days.
LANDING OF THE EMPEROR AT SAINT-HELENA.
Oct. 16th.—After dinner, the Emperor, accompanied by the Grand Marshal, got into a boat to go ashore. By a remarkable and irresistible impulse, the officers all assembled on the quarter-deck, and the greater part of the crew on the gangways. This was not the effect of curiosity, which an acquaintance of three months’ duration could not fail to have removed, and which was now succeeded by the liveliest interest. The Emperor, before he stepped into the boat, sent for the captain of the vessel, and took leave of him, desiring him at the same time to convey his thanks to the officers and crew. These words appeared to produce a great sensation on all by whom they were understood, or to whom they were interpreted. The remainder of the Emperor’s suite landed about eight o’clock. We were accompanied by several of the officers, and every one on board seemed to be sincerely affected at our departure.
We found the Emperor in the apartment which had been assigned to him; a few minutes after our arrival he went up stairs to his chamber, where we were called to attend him. His situation here was no better than it had been on board the vessel; we found ourselves lodged in a sort of inn or hotel.
The town of St. Helena consists only of one very short street, or row of houses, built along a very narrow valley, formed between two mountains, quite perpendicular, composed of barren rock.
THE EMPEROR FIXES HIS ABODE AT BRIARS—DESCRIPTION
OF THE PLACE.—MISERABLE SITUATION.
17th.—At six o’clock in the morning the Emperor, the Grand Marshal, and the Admiral, rode out on horse-back to visit Longwood, a house which had been chosen for the Emperor’s residence, and was more than two leagues from the town. On their return they saw a small villa situated in the valley about two miles from the town. The Emperor was extremely reluctant to return to the place where he had passed the preceding night, and where he felt himself more completely secluded from the world than he had been when on board the vessel. What with the sentinels who guarded his doors, and the crowds of persons whom curiosity had attracted beneath his windows, he had been obliged to confine himself to his chamber. A small pavilion, attached to the villa above-mentioned, pleased him, and the Admiral was of opinion that he would be more agreeably situated there than in the town. In this place, therefore, the Emperor fixed his residence, and immediately sent for me. He had become so much interested in his work, on the Campaigns of Italy, that he could not suspend it:—I immediately proceeded to join him.
The little valley in which the village of St. Helena [James Town] is situated, extends to a considerable distance up the island, winding along between two chains of barren hills which enclose it on either side. A good carriage-road runs through this valley to the distance of about two miles; after which it is traced along the brow of the hill which rises on the left, while nothing but precipices and gulfs are discoverable on the right. The rugged aspect of the country here gradually diminishes, and the road opens on a small level height, on which are several houses interspersed with trees and different kinds of vegetation: this is a little oasis amidst the rocky desert. Here is situated the modest residence of Mr. Balcombe, a merchant of the island. At the distance of thirty or forty paces from the dwelling-house, on a pointed eminence, stood a little summer-house or pavilion, to which, in fine weather, the family were accustomed to retire to take tea and amuse themselves: this was the obscure retreat hired by the Admiral, as the temporary residence of the Emperor; and he took possession of it in the morning. As I was ascending the winding path leading to the pavilion, I thought I perceived the Emperor, and stopped to look at him. It was Napoleon himself: his body was slightly bent, and his hands behind his back; he wore his usual neat and simple uniform, and his celebrated little hat. He was standing at the threshold of the door whistling a popular French tune, when I advanced towards him. “Ah!” said he, “here you are! Why have you not brought your son?” “Sire,” I replied, “the respect, the consideration I owe you prevented me.”—“You cannot do without him,” continued he; “send for him.”
In none of his campaigns, perhaps in no situation of his past life, had the Emperor been so wretchedly lodged, or subject to so many privations. The summer-house contained one room, nearly square, on the ground-floor, having two doors facing each other on two of its sides, and two windows on each of the other sides. These windows had neither curtains nor shutters, and there was scarcely a seat in the room. The Emperor was at this moment alone; his two valets-de-chambre were bustling about to prepare his bed. He wished to walk a little; but there was no level ground on any side of the pavilion, which was surrounded by huge pieces of stone and rock. He took my arm, and began to converse in a cheerful strain. Night was advancing; profound silence, undisturbed solitude, prevailed on every side;—what a crowd of sensations and sentiments overwhelmed me at this moment!—I was in this desert, tête-a-tête, and enjoying familiar conversation with the man who had ruled the world!—with Napoleon! What were my feelings!——But to understand them it would be necessary to revert to the days of his past glory; to the time when one of his decrees sufficed to subvert thrones and create kings! It would be necessary to reflect on what he was to all who surrounded him at the Tuileries: the timid embarrassment, the profound respect, with which he was approached by his ministers and officers; the anxiety, the dread of ambassadors, princes and even kings! With me all these sentiments remained in full force.
When the Emperor was about to retire to rest, we found that one of the windows (which, as I have already observed, had neither shutters nor curtains) was close upon his bed, nearly on a level with his face. We barricadoed it as well as we could, so as to exclude the air, of the effects of which the Emperor is very susceptible, the least draught being sufficient to give him cold or the tooth-ache. For my part I ascended to the upper story, immediately above the Emperor’s room. In this place, the dimensions of which were about seven feet square, there was only a bed, and not a single chair: this served as a lodging for me and my son, for whom a mattress was spread out upon the floor. But how could we complain, being so near the Emperor? we could hear the sound of his voice, and distinguish his words! The valets-de-chambre slept on the ground, across the doorway, wrapped up in their cloaks. Such is the faithful description of the first night which Napoleon passed at Briars.
DESCRIPTION OF BRIARS.—THE GARDEN.—THE EMPEROR
MEETS THE YOUNG LADIES OF THE HOUSE.
18th.—I breakfasted with the Emperor: he had neither table-cloth nor plates; and the remains of the preceding day’s dinner were brought to him for breakfast.
The English officer was lodged in the neighbouring house, as our guard, and two inferior officers marched up and down with an air of military parade before our eyes, for the purpose of watching our motions. Breakfast being over, the Emperor proceeded to his dictation, which occupied him some hours. He afterwards went to explore our new domain, and to take a view of the surrounding grounds.
Descending our hillock on the side facing the principal house, we found a path bordered by a hedge and running at the foot of precipices. After walking along the path to the distance of two hundred paces, we arrived at a little garden, the door of which was open. This garden is long and narrow, and formed on very uneven ground; but a tolerable level walk extends the whole length of it. At the entrance there is a sort of arbour at one extremity; and at the other are two huts for the negroes whose business it is to look after the garden. It contains some fruit-trees and a few flowers. We had no sooner entered the garden, than we were met by the daughters of the master of the house, girls about fourteen or fifteen years of age: the one sprightly, giddy, and caring for nothing; the other more sedate, but, at the same time, possessing great naïveté of manner; both speak a little French. They had walked through the garden, and put all the flowers under contribution, to present them to the Emperor, whom they overwhelmed with the most whimsical and ridiculous questions. The Emperor was much amused by this familiarity, to which he was so little accustomed. “We have been to a masked ball,” said he, when the young ladies had taken their leave.
THE YOUTH OF FRANCE.—THE EMPEROR VISITS
MR. BALCOMBE’S HOUSE.
19th—20th. The Emperor invited my son to breakfast: it may be easily imagined that he was greatly overjoyed at this honour! It was, perhaps, the first time he had ever been so near the Emperor, or had spoken to him; and he was not a little flurried on the occasion.
The table still remained without a cloth; the breakfast continued to be brought from the town, and consisted of only two or three wretched dishes. To-day a chicken was brought: the Emperor wished to carve it himself, and to help us. He was astonished at finding that he succeeded so well; it was long, he said, since he had done so much: for all his politeness, he added, had been lost in the business and cares of his Generalship of Italy.
Coffee is almost a necessary of life to the Emperor: but here it proved so bad that, on tasting it he thought himself poisoned. He sent it away, and made me send away mine also.
The Emperor was at this moment using a snuff-box set with several ancient medals, which were surrounded by Greek inscriptions. The Emperor not being certain of the name of one of the heads, asked me to translate the inscription; and on my replying that it was beyond my powers, he laughed and said, “I see you are no better scholar than myself.” My son then tremblingly undertook the task, and read Mithridates, Demetrius-Poliorcetes, and some other names. The extreme youth of my son, and this circumstance, attracted the Emperor’s attention. “Is your son so far advanced?” said he; and he began to question him at great length respecting his Lyceum, his masters, his lessons, &c. Then turning to me, “What a rising generation I leave behind me!” said he. “This is all my work! The merits of the French youth will be a sufficient revenge to me. On beholding the work, all must render justice to the workman! and the perverted judgment or bad faith of declaimers must fall before my deeds. If I had thought only of myself, and of securing my own power, as has been continually asserted, if I had really had any other object in view than to establish the reign of reason, I should have endeavoured to hide the light under a bushel; instead of which, I devoted myself to the propagation of knowledge, and yet the youth of France have not enjoyed all the benefits which I intended they should. My University, according to the plan I had conceived, was a master-piece in its combinations, and would have been such in its national results. But an evil-disposed person spoiled all; and in so doing he was actuated no doubt by bad intentions, and with a view to some purpose.”
In the evening the Emperor went to visit our neighbours. Mr. Balcombe, who was suffering under a fit of the gout, lay stretched on a sofa; his wife and the two young ladies, whom he had met in the morning, were beside him. The masked ball was resumed again with great spirit. Our guests liberally dealt out all their store of knowledge. The conversation turned on novels. One of the young ladies had read Madame Cottin’s Mathilde, and was delighted to find that the Emperor was acquainted with the work. An Englishman, with a great round face, to all appearance a true vacuum plenum, who had been listening earnestly, in order to turn his little knowledge of French to the best account, modestly ventured to ask the Emperor whether the Princess, the friend of Matilda, whose character he particularly admired, was still living? The Emperor with a very solemn air replied, “No, sir; she is dead and buried:” and he was almost tempted to believe he was himself hoaxed, until he found that the melancholy tidings almost drew tears from the great staring eyes of the Englishman.
The young ladies evinced no less simplicity, though in them it was more pardonable: however, I was led to conclude that they had not studied chronology very deeply. One of them turning over Florian’s Estelle, to shew us that she could read French, happened to light on the name of Gaston de Foix, and finding him distinguished by the title of General, she asked the Emperor whether he had been satisfied with his conduct in the army, whether he had escaped the dangers of war, and whether he was still living.
21st.—In the morning the Admiral came to visit the Emperor. He knocked at the door; and had I not been present, the Emperor must have been reduced to the alternative of opening it himself, or suffering the Admiral to wait on the outside.
All the scattered members of our little colony, likewise, came from the town, and we were for a short time collected together. Each described the wretchedness of his situation, and received the sympathy of the Emperor.
HORROR AND MISERY OF OUR SITUATION.—THE EMPEROR’S
INDIGNATION.—NOTE TO THE ENGLISH GOVERNMENT.
23rd–24th. The English Ministers, in violating the rights of hospitality, to which we had trusted with such implicit confidence, seem to have omitted nothing adapted to make us feel this violation the more bitterly. By banishing us to the farthest extremity of the world, and reducing us to every kind of privation and ill-treatment, they wish to make us drain the cup of misery to the very dregs. St. Helena is a true Siberia: the only difference is its limited extent, and the climate being warm instead of cold.
The Emperor Napoleon, who but lately possessed such boundless power, and disposed of so many Crowns, now occupies a wretched hovel, a few feet square, perched upon a rock, unprovided with furniture, and without either shutters or curtains to the windows. This place must serve him for bed-chamber, dressing-room, dining-room, study, and sitting-room; and he is obliged to go out when it is necessary to have this one apartment cleaned. His meals, consisting of a few wretched dishes, are brought to him from a distance, as though he were a criminal in a dungeon. He is absolutely in want of the necessaries of life: the bread and wine are not such as we have been accustomed to, and are so bad that we loathe to touch them; water, coffee, butter, oil, and other articles, are either not to be procured, or are scarcely fit for use: a bath, which is so necessary to the Emperor’s health, is not to be had; and he is deprived of the exercise of riding on horseback.
His friends and servants are two miles distant from him, and are not suffered to approach his person without being accompanied by a soldier. They are deprived of their arms, and are compelled to pass the night at the guard-house, if they return beyond a certain hour, or if any mistake occur in the pass-word, which happens almost daily. Thus, on the summit of this frightful rock, we are equally exposed to the severity of man and the rigour of nature! And how easy would it have been to procure us a more suitable retreat and more courteous usage. Assuredly, if the Sovereigns of Europe decreed this exile, private enmity has directed its execution. If policy alone dictated this measure as indispensable, would it not have been essential, in order to render the fact evident to the world, to have surrounded with every kind of respect and consideration the illustrious victim, with regard to whom it had been found necessary to violate law and principle?
We were all assembled round the Emperor; and he was recapitulating these facts with warmth: “For what infamous treatment are we reserved!” he exclaimed. “This is the anguish of death! To injustice and violence, they now add insult and protracted torment. If I were so hateful to them, why did they not get rid of me? A few musquet balls in my heart or my head would have done the business; and there would at least have been some energy in the crime! Were it not for you, and, above all, for your wives, I would receive from them nothing but the pay of a private soldier. How can the monarchs of Europe permit the sacred character of sovereignty to be violated in my person? Do they not see that they are, with their own hands, working their own destruction at St. Helena? I entered their capitals victorious, and had I cherished such sentiments, what would have become of them? They styled me their brother; and I had become so by the choice of the people, the sanction of victory, the character of religion, and the alliances of their policy and their blood. Do they imagine that the good sense of nations is blind to their conduct? and what do they expect from it? At all events, make your complaints, gentlemen; let indignant Europe hear them! Complaints from me would be beneath my dignity and character; I must command, or be silent.”
Next morning an officer, opening the door, introduced himself, without farther ceremony, into the Emperor’s room, where I was engaged with him. He had come, however, with good intentions. He was the captain of one of the small vessels which had formed our squadron. He was now about to return to Europe, and came to enquire whether the Emperor had any commands. Napoleon immediately recurred to the subject of our conversation on the preceding evening, and, becoming animated by degrees, gave utterance to sentiments of the loftiest and most energetic character, which he charged him to communicate to the British Government. I interpreted what he said in the same spirit and with great rapidity. The officer seemed astonished at what he heard, and left us with a promise punctually to fulfil his commission. But he could not have described the expression, and particularly the tone, of which I was a witness.—The Emperor, however, directed me to make a memorandum of what he had said, which the officer must have found very feebly expressed compared with what he had just heard. The note was as follows:
Memorandum.—“The Emperor desires, by the return of the next vessel, to receive some account of his wife and son, and to be informed whether the latter is still living. He takes this opportunity of repeating and conveying to the British Government the protestations which he has already made against the extraordinary measures adopted towards him.
“1st. That Government has declared him a prisoner of war. The Emperor is not a prisoner of war. His letter to the Prince Regent, which he wrote and communicated to Captain Maitland, before he went on board the Bellerophon, sufficiently proves, to the whole world, the resolutions and the sentiments of confidence which induced him freely to place himself under the English flag.
“The Emperor might, had he pleased, have agreed to quit France only on stipulated conditions with regard to himself; but he disdained to mingle personal considerations with the great interests with which his mind was constantly occupied. He might have placed himself at the disposal of the Emperor Alexander, who had been his friend, or of the Emperor Francis, who was his father-in-law. But, confiding in the justice of the English nation, he desired no other protection than its laws afforded; and, renouncing public affairs, he sought no other country than that which was governed by fixed laws, independent of private will.
“2nd. Had the Emperor really been a prisoner of war, the rights which civilized governments possess over such a prisoner are limited by the law of nations, and terminate with the war itself.
“3rd. If the English Government considered the Emperor, though arbitrarily, as a prisoner of war, the right of that government was then limited by public law, or else, as there existed no cartel between the two nations during the war, it might have adopted towards him the principles of savages, who put their prisoners to death. This proceeding would have been more humane, and more conformable to justice, than that of sending him to this horrible rock; death inflicted on board the Bellerophon, in the Plymouth roads, would have been a blessing compared with the treatment to which he is now subjected.
“We have travelled over the most desolate countries of Europe, but none is to be compared to this barren rock. Deprived of every thing that can render life supportable, it is calculated only to renew perpetually the anguish of death. The first principles of Christian morality, and that great duty imposed on man to pursue his fate, whatever it may be, may withhold him from terminating with his own hand a wretched existence; the Emperor glories in being superior to such a feeling. But if the British Ministry should persist in their course of injustice and violence towards him, he would consider it a happiness if they would put him to death.”
The vessel which sailed for Europe, with this document, was the Redpole, Captain Desmond.
The reader must pardon the insipid monotony of our complaints: they will be found to be always the same, no doubt; but let it be remembered how much more pain must have been felt in repeating them than can possibly be experienced in their perusal.
MODE OF LIVING AT BRIARS.—CABINET WHICH THE EMPEROR HAD WITH HIM AT AUSTERLITZ.—THE EMPEROR’S LARGE CABINET.—ITS CONTENTS.—ARTICLES OF VIRTÙ, LIBELS AGAINST NAPOLEON, &C., LEFT AT THE TUILERIES BY THE KING.
25th—27th. The Emperor dressed very early; he took a short walk out of doors; we breakfasted about ten o’clock; he walked again, and then we proceeded to business. I read to him what he had dictated on the preceding evening, and which my son had copied in the morning; he corrected it, and then continued his dictation. We went out again about five o’clock, and returned at six, the hour appointed for dinner, that is to say, if the dinner should be brought from the town by that time. The days were very long, and the evenings still longer. Unfortunately I did not understand chess; at one time I had an idea of studying it by night, but where could I find a teacher? I pretended to a little knowledge of piquet, but the Emperor soon discovered my ignorance: he gave me credit for my good intentions, yet he gave up playing. Want of occupation would sometimes lead him to the neighbouring house, where the young ladies made him play at whist. But his more usual practice was to remain at table after dinner, and to converse sitting in his chair; for the room was too small to admit of his walking about.
One evening he ordered a little travelling cabinet to be brought to him, and, after minutely examining every part of it, he presented it to me, saying, “I have had it in my possession a long time, I made use of it on the morning of the battle of Austerlitz. It must go to young Emanuel,” said he, turning to my son; “when he is thirty or forty years old, we shall be no more. This will but enhance the value of the gift; he will say when he shews it, the Emperor Napoleon gave this to my father at St. Helena.” I received the precious gift with a kind of reverential feeling, and I preserve it as a valuable relic.
Passing from that to the examining of a large cabinet, he looked over some portraits of his own family, and some presents which he had personally received. These consisted of the portraits of Madame, of the Queen of Naples, of the daughters of Joseph, of his brothers, of the King of Rome, &c.; an Augustus and a Livia, both exceedingly rare; a Continence of Scipio and another antique of immense value given to him by the Pope; a Peter the Great, on a box; another box with a Charles V.; another with a Turenne; and some, which were in daily use, covered with a collection of medallions of Cæsar, Alexander, Sylla, Mithridates, &c. Next came some snuff-boxes, ornamented with his own portrait set in diamonds. He then looked for one without diamonds, and not finding it, he called his valet-de-chambre to enquire about it: unfortunately this portrait still remained in the town along with the greater part of his effects; I felt mortified at receiving this intelligence, I could not help thinking that I had been a loser by this mischance.
The Emperor then examined several snuff-boxes which Louis XVIII. had left on his table at the Tuileries at the time of his precipitate departure. On one of these were represented, on a black ground, the portraits of Louis XVI., of the Queen, and of Madame Elizabeth, executed in paste in imitation of ivory, and fantastically arranged. They formed three crescents placed back to back in the shape of an equilateral triangle, and groups of cherubs closely interwoven composed the external border. Another box presented a water-colour sketch of a hunt, which had no other claim to merit than the circumstance of its being attributed to the pencil of the Duchess of Angoulême. A third was surmounted with a portrait, which appeared to be that of the Countess of Provence. These three boxes were of simple and even ordinary execution; and could possess no other value than that which their history attaches to them.
On the Emperor’s arrival in Paris on the evening of the 20th of March, he found the King’s study precisely in the state in which it had been used; all his papers still remained on the tables. By the Emperor’s desire, these tables were pushed into the corners of the apartment, and others brought. He gave orders that nothing should be touched, intending to examine the papers at his leisure: and as the Emperor himself quitted France without returning to the Tuileries, the King must[must] have found his study and his papers nearly as he had left them.
The Emperor took a hasty glance at some of the papers. He found among them several letters from the King to M. d’Avary at Madeira, where the latter died; they were written in the King’s own hand, and had doubtless been sent back to him. He found also some confidential letters of the King’s, likewise in his own hand. But how came they there? How had they been returned to him? That would be difficult to explain. They consisted of five or six pages, written in very elegant language, and displaying some sense; but very abstract and metaphysical. In one of them, the Prince said to the lady whom he addressed:—“Judge, Madam, how much I love you; I have left off mourning for your sake.” “And here,” said the Emperor, “the idea of the mourning was followed up by a succession of long paragraphs, quite in an academic style.” The Emperor could not imagine to whom it had been written, or what the mourning alluded to; I could not assist his conjectures on either of these points.
Two or three days after the Emperor had replaced a certain individual at the head of a celebrated institution, he found on one of the tables a memoir from that very person, which, from the terms in which it was couched with reference to himself and the whole of his family, would certainly have prevented him from signing the re-appointment.
There were also many other documents of the same nature: but the most complete records of baseness, deceit, and villany, were found in the apartments of M. Blacas, grand-master of the wardrobe, and minister of the household: these were filled with plans, reports, and petitions of every kind. There were few of these papers in which the writers did not put themselves forward at the expense of Napoleon, whom they were far from expecting to return. They formed altogether such a mass that the Emperor was obliged to appoint a committee of four persons to examine them; he now thinks he was to blame in not having confided that office to a single individual, and with such injunctions that he might have felt confident nothing was suffered to escape. He has since had reason to believe that these papers might have afforded some salutary hints respecting the treachery which surrounded him on his return from Waterloo.
Among the rest there was a long letter from one of the female attendants of the Princess Pauline. This voluminous letter was expressed in very coarse language with regard to the princess and her sisters; and described the Emperor, to whom the writer always alluded under the title of that man, in the worst possible colours. This had not been thought sufficient; part of it had been erased and interlined by another hand, in order to bring forward Napoleon in the most scandalous manner; and on the margin, in the hand of the interlineator, were written the words fit to be printed. A few days more, and this libel would probably have been published.
An upstart woman, who held a distinguished rank in the state, and who had been overwhelmed with acts of kindness from the Emperor, wrote in a great hurry to her friend, another upstart, to acquaint her with the famous decision of the Senate respecting the forfeiture and proscription of Napoleon. The letter contained the following: “My dear friend, my husband has just returned: he is tired to death; but his efforts have carried it; we are delivered from that man, and we shall have the Bourbons. Thank God, we shall now be real Countesses!” &c.
Among these papers, Napoleon experienced the mortification to meet with some containing very improper remarks respecting himself personally; and those too in the very hand writing of individuals who only the day before had assembled round him, and were already in the enjoyment of his favours.
The first impulse of his indignation was to determine that they should be printed, and to withdraw his protection: a second thought restrained him. “We are so volatile, so inconstant, so easily led away,” said he, “that, after all, I could not be certain that those very people had not really and spontaneously come back to my service: in that case, I should have been punishing them at the very time when they were returning to their duty. I thought it better to seem to know nothing of the matter, and I ordered all their letters to be burnt.”
THE EMPEROR COMMENCES THE CAMPAIGN OF EGYPT WITH THE GRAND MARSHAL.—ANECDOTES OF BRUMAIRE, &C.—LETTEF THE COUNT DE LILLE.—THE BEAUTIFUL DUCHESS DE GUICHE.
28th—31st. My son and I prosecuted our labours without intermission. His health, however, began to be affected; he felt a pain in his chest. My eyes also grew weak: these were really the effects of our excessive occupation. Indeed, we had gone through an amazing quantity of work: we had already nearly arrived at the end of the Campaign of Italy. The Emperor, however, did not yet find that he had sufficient occupation. Employment was his only resource, and the interest which his first dictations had assumed furnished an additional motive for proceeding with them. The Campaign of Egypt was now about to be commenced. The Emperor had frequently talked of employing the Grand Marshal on this subject.
Those of our party who were lodged in the town were badly accommodated, and were dissatisfied at being separated from the Emperor. They were harassed by the constraint and mortifications to which they were subjected. I suggested to the Emperor that he should set us all to work at the same time, and proceed at once with the Campaigns of Italy and Egypt, the history of the Consulate, the return from the Island of Elba, &c. The time, I observed, would then pass more quickly; this great work, the glory of France, would advance more rapidly, and the gentlemen who resided in the town would be less unhappy. The idea pleased the Emperor, and from that moment one or two of his suite came regularly every day to write from his dictation, the transcript of which they brought to him next morning. They then stayed to dinner, and thus afforded the Emperor a little more amusement.
We made such arrangements that the Emperor insensibly found himself more comfortably situated in many respects. A tent, which had been given to me by the Colonel of the 53rd regiment, was spread out so as to form a prolongation of the room occupied by the Emperor. His cook took up his abode at Briars. The table-linen was taken from the trunks, the plate was set forth, and our first dinner after these preparations was a sort of fête. The evenings, however, always hung heavily on our hands. The Emperor would sometimes visit the adjoining house; at other times he would endeavour to leave his chamber to walk; but more frequently he remained within-doors, and tried to pass the time in conversation until ten or eleven o’clock. He dreaded retiring to bed too early; for when he did so, he awoke in the night; and, in order to divert his mind from sorrowful reflections, he was obliged to rise and read.
One day at dinner the Emperor cast his eyes on one of the dishes of his own campaign-service, on which the Royal arms had been engraved. “How they have spoiled this!” he exclaimed in very energetic terms; and he could not refrain from observing that the King had been in a great hurry to take possession of the Imperial plate, which he certainly could not claim as having been taken from him, since it unquestionably belonged to him, Napoleon; for, he added, that when he ascended the throne he found not a vestige of royal property. At his abdication he left to the crown five millions in plate, and between forty and fifty millions in furniture, which was all purchased with his own money out of his civil list.
In a conversation one evening, the Emperor related the circumstances attending the event of Brumaire. I suppress the particulars, because they were afterwards dictated to General Gourgaud; and a detailed account of this remarkable affair will be found in the Memoirs.
Sieyes, who was one of the Provisional Consuls along with Napoleon, astonished to hear his colleague, on the very first conference, discussing questions relative to finance, administration, the army, law, and politics, left him, quite disconcerted, and ran to his friends, saying, “Gentlemen, you have got a master! This man knows every thing, wills every thing, and can do every thing.”
I was in London at that time, and I told the Emperor that the emigrants there had formed great hopes and placed much confidence on the events of the 18th of Brumaire and on his Consulate. Several of us, who had formerly been acquainted with Madame de Beauharnois, immediately set out for Paris, hoping, through her means, to exercise some influence, or give some direction to affairs, which then appeared under a new aspect.
Our general opinion at the time was that the First Consul had waited for propositions from the French Princes. We grounded this opinion on the circumstance of his having been so long without manifesting his intentions respecting them; which, however, he did some time afterwards in a way the most overwhelming, by means of a proclamation. We attributed this result to the stupid conduct of the Bishop of Arras, the counsellor and director of our affairs; who, according to his own confession, went to work with his eyes shut, and boasted of not having read a single newspaper for a series of years, ever since they had been filled, as he said, with the successes and the falsehoods of those wretches. On the first establishment of the Consulate, some one having attempted to persuade the Bishop to enter into negotiations with the Consul, through the mediation of Madame Buonaparte, he rejected the proposition with indignation, and in language of so coarse and disgusting a nature as induced the person to tell him that his expressions were far from being episcopal, and that he certainly had never learned them from his breviary.
About the same period he made use of some gross invectives against the Duc de Choiseuil,—and that too at the table of the Prince, where he was smartly reprimanded for them; and all this was only because the Duke, on being released from imprisonment at Calais, and escaping death through the protection of the Consul, concluded his reply to the enquiries made by the Prince relative to Buonaparte, by protesting that, for his part, he should never cease to acknowledge his personal gratitude towards him.
To all this the Emperor replied that he had never bestowed a thought on the Princes; that the observations to which I had alluded proceeded from one of the other Consuls, and were made without any particular motive; that we, who were abroad, seemed to have no idea of the opinions of those at home; and that even if he had been favourably disposed towards the Princes, it would not have been in his power to carry his intentions into execution. He had, however, received overtures, about that period, both from Mittau and London.
The King, he said, wrote him a letter, which was conveyed to him by Lebrun, who had it from the Abbé de Montesquiou, the secret agent of the Prince at Paris. This letter, which was written in a very laboured style, contained the following paragraph: “You delay long to restore me my throne. It is to be feared that you may allow favourable moments to escape. You cannot complete the happiness of France without me, nor can I serve France without you. Hasten, then, and specify yourself the places which you would wish your friends to possess.”
To this letter the First Consul replied:—“I have received your Royal Highness’s letter; I have always felt deep interest in your misfortunes and those of your family. You must not think of appearing in France; you could not do so without passing over a hundred thousand dead bodies. I shall, however, be always eager to do every thing that may tend to alleviate your fate, or enable you to forget your misfortunes.”
The overtures made by the Count d’Artois possessed still more elegance and address. He commissioned, as the bearer of them, the Duchess de Guiche, a lady whose fascinating manners and personal graces were calculated to assist her in the important negotiation. She easily got access to Madame Buonaparte, with whom all the individuals of the old Court came easily in contact. She breakfasted with her at Malmaison; and the conversation turning on London, the emigrants, and the French Princes, Madame de Guiche mentioned that as she happened a few days before to be at the house of the Count d’Artois, she had heard some person ask the Prince what he intended to do for the First Consul, in the event of his restoring the Bourbons; and that the Prince had replied:—“I would immediately make him Constable of the kingdom, and every thing else he might choose. But even that would not be enough: we would raise on the Carrousel a lofty and magnificent column, surmounted with a statue of Buonaparte crowning the Bourbons.”
As soon as the First Consul entered, which he did very shortly after breakfast, Josephine eagerly repeated to him the circumstance which the Duchess had related. “And did you not reply,” said her husband, “that the corpse of the First Consul would have been made the pedestal of the Column?”—The charming Duchess was still present; the beauties of her countenance, her eyes, and her words, were directed to the success of her commission. She said she was so delighted she did not know how she should ever be able sufficiently to acknowledge the favour which Madame Buonaparte had procured her, of seeing and hearing so distinguished a man—so great a hero. It was all in vain: the Duchess de Guiche received orders that very night to quit Paris. The charms of the emissary were too well calculated to alarm Josephine, to induce her to say any thing very urgent in her favour, and next day the Duchess was on her way to the frontier.
It is, however, absolutely false that Napoleon, on his part, at a subsequent period, made overtures or propositions to the Princes touching the cession of their rights, or their renunciation of the Crown; though such statements have been made in some pompous declarations, profusely circulated through Europe.—How was such a thing possible?” said the Emperor; “I, who could only reign by the very principle which excluded them—that of the sovereignty of the people—how could I have sought to possess through them rights which were proscribed in their persons! That would have been to proscribe myself. The absurdity would have been too palpable, too ridiculous; it would have ruined me for ever in public opinion. The fact is that neither directly nor indirectly, at home or abroad, did I ever do any thing of the kind: and this will no doubt, in the course of time, be the opinion of all persons of judgment, who allow me to have been neither a fool nor a madman.
“The prevalence of this report, however, induced me to seek to discover what could have given rise to it, and these are the facts which I collected:—at the period of the good understanding between France and Prussia, and while that state was endeavouring to ingratiate herself in our favour, she caused inquiry to be made whether France would take umbrage at her allowing the French Princes to remain in the Prussian territories, to which the French Government answered in the negative. Emboldened by this reply, Prussia next enquired whether we should feel any great repugnance to furnish them, through her medium, with an annual allowance. To this our government also replied in the negative, provided that Prussia would be responsible for their remaining quiet, and abstaining from all intrigue. The negotiation of this affair being once set on foot between the two countries, Heaven knows what the zeal of some agent, or even the doctrines of the Court of Berlin, which did not accord with ours, may have proposed. This furnished, no doubt, the motive and pretext, if indeed any really existed, for the fine letter of Louis XVIII., to which all the members of his family so ostentatiously adhered. The French Princes eagerly seized that opportunity of reviving the interest and attention of Europe, which had been by this time totally withdrawn from them.”
OCCUPATIONS OF THE DAY.—COUNCIL OF STATE.—DISGRACE
OF PORTALIS.—DISSOLUTION OF THE LEGISLATIVE
BODY, IN 1813.—THE SENATE.
November 1st—4th. Our days now passed away in the same uniformity as those which we spent on board the vessel. The Emperor summoned me to breakfast with him about ten or eleven o’clock. That meal being concluded, after half an hour’s conversation, I read to him what he had dictated the evening before, and he renewed his dictations. The Emperor discontinued his practice of dressing as soon as he rose, and walking before breakfast, which had broken up his day too much, and rendered it too long. He never dressed now till about four o’clock. He then walked out, to give the servants an opportunity of making his bed, and cleaning his room. We walked in the garden, which he particularly liked, on account of its solitude. I had the little arbour covered with a canvass, and ordered a table and chairs to be placed in it; and the Emperor henceforward chose this spot for dictating to such of the gentlemen as came from the town for that purpose.
In front of Mr. Balcombe’s house there was a walk bordered by some trees. It was here that the two English soldiers had posted themselves for the purpose of watching us. They were, however, at length removed, by desire of Mr. Balcombe, who felt offended at the circumstance on his own account. Nevertheless, they still continued for some time to move about, so as to get a sight of the Emperor; either attracted by curiosity, or acting in obedience to their orders. At length they entirely disappeared, and the Emperor gradually took possession of this lower walk. This was quite an acquisition to his domain; and he walked here every day before dinner. The two young ladies, with their mother, joined him in this walk, and told him the news. He sometimes returned to the garden after dinner, when the weather permitted; he was then enabled to spend the evening without paying a visit to his neighbours, which he never did when he could avoid it, nor ever till he was satisfied that no stranger was there, which I always ascertained previously, by peeping through the window.
In one of his walks, the Emperor conversed much on the subject of the Senate, the Legislative Body, and particularly the Council of State. The latter, he said, had been of considerable service to him during the whole course of his administration. I will here note down some remarks relative to the Council of State, the more readily, as it was very little understood at the time in the drawing-rooms of Paris; and as it does not now exist on the same footing as formerly, I shall insert, as I proceed, a few lines on its mechanism and prerogatives.
“The Council of State,” said the Emperor, “was generally composed of well-informed, skilful, and honest men. Fermont and Boulay, for example, were certainly of this class. Notwithstanding the immense law-suits which they conducted, and the vast emoluments they enjoyed, I should not be surprised to learn that they are not now in very flourishing circumstances.” The Emperor employed the councillors of state individually in every case, and with advantage. As a whole, they were his real council—his mind in deliberation, as the ministers were his mind in execution. At the Council of State were prepared the laws which the Emperor presented to the Legislative Body, a circumstance which rendered it altogether one of the elements of the legislative power. In the Council, the Emperor’s decrees and his rules of public administration were drawn up; and there the plans of his ministers were examined, discussed, and corrected.
The Council of State received appeals and pronounced finally on all administrative judgments; and incidentally on those of all other tribunals, even those of the Court of Cassation. There were examined complaints against the ministers, and appeals from the Emperor to the Emperor better informed. Thus the Council of State, at which the Emperor uniformly presided, being frequently in direct opposition to the ministers, or occupied in reforming their acts and errors, naturally became the point of refuge for persons or interests aggrieved by any authority whatever. All who were ever present at the meetings of the council must know with what zeal the cause of the citizens was there defended. A committee of the Council of State received all the petitions of the Empire, and laid before the Sovereign those which deserved his attention.
With the exception of lawyers and persons employed in the administration, it is surprising how far the rest of society were ignorant of our political legislation. No one had a correct idea of the Council of State, of the Legislative Body, or of the Senate. It was received, for example, as an established fact, that the Legislative Body, like an assembly of mutes, passively adopted, without the least opposition, all the laws which were presented to it; that which belonged to the nature and excellence of the institution was attributed to its complaisance and servility.
The laws which were prepared in the Council of State were presented by commissioners, chosen from that council, to a committee of the Legislative Body appointed to receive them; they were there amicably discussed, and were often quietly referred back to the Council of State to receive some modifications. When the two deputations could not come to an understanding, they proceeded to hold regular conferences, under the presidency of the Arch-chancellor or the Arch-treasurer; so that, before these laws reached the Legislative Body, they had already received the assent of the two opposite parties. If any difference existed, it was discussed by the two committees, in the presence of the whole of the Legislative Body, performing the functions of a jury; which, as soon as its members had become sufficiently acquainted with the facts, pronounced its decision by a secret scrutiny. Thus every individual had an opportunity of freely giving his opinion, as it was impossible to know whether he had put in a black or a white ball. “No plan,” said the Emperor, “could have been better calculated to correct our national effervescence and our inexperience in matters of political liberty.”
The Emperor asked me whether I thought discussion perfectly free in the Council of State, or whether his presence did not impose a restraint on the deliberations? I reminded him of a very long debate, during which he had remained throughout singular in his opinion, and had at last been obliged to yield. He immediately recollected the circumstance. “Oh, yes,” said he, “that must have been in the case of a woman of Amsterdam, who had been tried for her life and acquitted three several times by the Imperial Courts, but against whom a fresh trial was demanded in the Court of Cassation.” The Emperor hoped that this happy concurrence of the law might have exhausted its severity in favour of the prisoner; that this lucky fatality of circumstances might have turned to her advantage. It was urged in reply that he possessed the beneficent power of bestowing pardon; but that the law was inflexible, and must take its course. The debate was a very long one. M. Muraire spoke a great deal, and very much to the point; he persuaded every one except the Emperor, who still remained singular in his opinion, and at length yielded, with these remarkable words:—“Gentlemen, the decision goes by the majority here, I remain single, and must yield; but I declare, in my conscience, that I yield only to forms. You have reduced me to silence, but by no means convinced me.”
So little was the nature of the Council of State understood by people in general that it was believed no one dared utter a word in that assembly in opposition to the Emperor’s opinion. Thus I very much surprised many persons when I related the fact that, one day, during a very animated debate, the Emperor, having been interrupted three times in giving his opinion, turned towards the individual who had rather rudely cut him short, and said in a sharp tone: “I have not yet done; I beg you will allow me to continue. I believe every one here has a right to deliver his opinion.” The smartness of this reply, notwithstanding the solemnity of the occasion, excited a general laugh, in which the Emperor himself joined.
“Yet,” said I to him, “the speakers evidently sought to discover what might be your Majesty’s opinion: they seemed to congratulate themselves when their views coincided with yours, and to be embarrassed on finding themselves maintaining opposite sentiments. You were accused, too, of laying snares for us, in order to discover our real opinion.” However, when the question was once started, self-love and the warmth of argument contributed, along with the freedom of discussion which the Emperor encouraged, to induce every one to maintain his own opinion. “I do not mind being contradicted,” said the Emperor; “I seek to be informed. Speak boldly,” he would repeat, whenever the speaker expressed himself equivocally, or the subject was a delicate one; “tell me all that you think; we are alone here; we are all en famille.”
I have been informed that, under the Consulate, or at the commencement of the Empire, the Emperor opposed an opinion of one of the members, and, through the warmth and obstinacy of the latter, the affair at length amounted absolutely to a personal misunderstanding. Napoleon commanded his temper, and was silent; but a few days after, seeing his antagonist at one of the public audiences, he said to him, in a half-earnest manner, “You are extremely obstinate; and if I were equally so!——At all events, you are in the wrong to put power to the trial! You should not be unmindful of human weakness!”
On another occasion, he said in private to one of the members who had likewise driven him to the utmost extreme, “You must take a little more care to consult my temper. You lately rather exceeded the bounds of discretion: you obliged me to have recourse to scratching my forehead. That is a very ominous sign with me: avoid urging me so far for the future.”
Nothing could equal the interest which the presence and the words of the Emperor excited in the Council of State. He presided there regularly twice a week when he was in town, and then none of us would have been absent for the whole world.
I told the Emperor that two sittings in particular had made the deepest impression on me: one entirely of sentiment, relating to matters of internal police, in which he had expelled one of the members of the Council; the other of constitutional decision, in which he had dissolved the Legislative Body.
A religious party was fomenting civil discord in the State, by secretly circulating bulls and letters from the Pope. They were shewn to a Councillor of State, appointed to superintend religious worship; and who, if he did not himself circulate them, at least neither prevented nor denounced their circulation. This was discovered, and the Emperor suddenly challenged him with the fact in open Council. “What could have been your motive, sir?” said he: “were you influenced by your religious principles? If so, why are you here? I use no control over the conscience of any man. Did I force you to become my Councillor of State? On the contrary, you solicited the post as a high favour. You are the youngest member of the Council, and perhaps the only one who has not some personal claim to that honour; you had nothing to recommend you but the inheritance of your father’s services. You took a personal oath to me; how could your religious feelings permit you openly to violate that oath, as you have just now done? Speak, however; you are here in confidence: your colleagues shall be your judges. Your crime is a great one, sir. A conspiracy for the commission of a violent act is stopped as soon as we seize the arm that holds the poniard. But a conspiracy to influence the public mind has no en: it is like a train of gunpowder. Perhaps, at this very moment, whole towns are thrown into commotion through your fault!” The Councillor, quite confused, said nothing in reply: the first word had sufficed to convict him. The members of the council, to the majority of whom this event was quite unexpected, were struck with astonishment, and observed profound silence.—“Why,” continued the Emperor, “did you not, according to the obligation imposed by your oath, discover to me the criminal and his plots? Am I not at all times accessible to everyone of you?” “Sire,” said the Councillor, at length venturing to reply, “he was my cousin.”—“Your crime is then the greater, sir,” replied the Emperor sharply; “your kinsman could only have been placed in office at your solicitation: from that moment all the responsibility devolved on you. When I look upon a man as entirely devoted to me, as your situation ought to render you, all who are connected with him, and all for whom he becomes responsible, from that time require no watching. These are my maxims.” The accused member still remained silent, and the Emperor continued: “The duties which a Councillor of State owes to me are immense. You, sir, have violated those duties, and you hold the office no longer. Begone: let me never see you here again!” The disgraced Councillor, as he was withdrawing, passed very near the Emperor: the latter looked at him and said, “I am sincerely grieved at this, sir, for the services of your father are still fresh in my memory.” When he was gone, the Emperor added, “I hope such a scene as this may never be renewed; it has done me too much harm.—I am not distrustful, but I might become so! I have allowed myself to be surrounded by every party; I have placed near my person even emigrants and soldiers of the army of Condé; and, though it was wished to induce them to assassinate me, yet, to do them justice, they have continued faithful. Since I have held the reins of government, this is the first individual employed about me, by whom I have been betrayed.” And then, turning towards M. Locré, who took notes of the debates of the Council of State, he said, “write down betrayed—do you hear?”
What an interesting collection were those reports of M. Locré! What has become of them? All that I have here related would be found in them word for word.
With respect to the dissolution of the Legislative Body, the Council of State was convoked either on the last day, or the last day but one of December, 1813. We knew that the debate would be an important one, without however knowing its object: the crisis was of the most serious nature, the enemy was entering on the French territory.
“Gentlemen,” said the Emperor, “you are aware of the situation of affairs, and the dangers to which the country is exposed. I thought it right, without being obliged to do so, to forward a private communication on the subject to the Deputies of the Legislative Body. I wished thus to have associated them with their dearest interests: but they have converted this act of my confidence into a weapon against me; that is to say, against the country. Instead of assisting me with all their efforts, they seek to obstruct mine. Our attitude alone would be sufficient to check the advance of the enemy, while their conduct invites him; instead of shewing him a front of brass, they unveil to him our wounds. They stun me with their clamorous demands for peace, while the only means to obtain it was to recommend war; they complain of me, and speak of their grievances; but what time, what place, do they select for so doing? These are subjects to be discussed in private, and not in the presence of the enemy. Was I inaccessible to them? Did I ever shew myself incapable of arguing reasonably? It is time, however, to come to a resolution: the Legislative Body, instead of assisting me in saving France, wishes to accelerate her ruin. The Legislative Body has betrayed its duty—I fulfil mine—I dissolve it.”
He then ordered the reading of a decree, the purport of which was that two-fifths of the Legislative Body had already gone beyond their power; that on the first of January another fifth would be in the same situation, and that consequently the majority of the Legislative Body would then be composed of members who had no right to be in it; that, in consideration of these circumstances, it was, from that moment, prorogued and adjourned, until fresh elections should be made.
After the reading of this document, the Emperor continued: “Such is the decree which I issue; and were I assured that it would bring the people of Paris in a crowd to the Tuileries to murder me this very day, I would still issue it; for such is my duty. When the people of France placed their destinies in my hands, I took into consideration the laws by which I was to govern them: had I thought those laws insufficient, I should not have accepted them. I am not a Louis XVI. Daily vacillations must not be expected from me. Though I have become Emperor, I have not ceased to be a citizen. If anarchy were to resume her sway, I would abdicate and mingle with the crowd to enjoy my share of the sovereignty, rather than remain at the head of a system in which I should only compromise all, without being able to protect any one. Besides,” concluded he, “my determination is conformable to the law; and if every one here will do his duty this day, I shall be invincible behind the shelter of the law as well as before the enemy.” But, alas! every one did not perform his duty!
Contrary to the received opinion, the Emperor was far from being of an arbitrary temper, and he was so willing to make concessions to his Council of State that he has frequently been known to submit to discussion, or even to annul a decision that he had adopted, because one of the members might afterwards privately advance new arguments, or hint that the personal opinion of the Emperor had influenced the majority. Let the chiefs of the sections be referred to on this head.
The Emperor was accustomed to communicate to members of the Institute every scientific idea that occurred to him, and also to submit his political ideas to Councillors of State: he often did this with private, and even secret, views. It was a sure way, he said, to go to the heart of a question; to ascertain the powers of a man and his political bias; to take measure of his discretion, &c. I know that in the year XII. he submitted to three Councillors of State the consideration of a very extraordinary question: namely, the suppression of the Legislative Body. It was approved by the majority; but one opposed it strenuously; he spoke at great length, and much to the purpose. The Emperor, who had listened to the discussion with great attention and gravity, without uttering a single word, or suffering any indication of his opinion to escape him, closed the sitting by observing, “A question of so serious a nature deserves to be maturely considered; we will resume the subject.” But it was never again brought forward.
It would have been well had the same precautions been adopted at the time of the suppression of the Tribunate; for that has always continued to be a great subject of declamation and reproach. As for the Emperor, he viewed it merely as the suppression of an expensive abuse, and an important economical measure.
“It is certain,” said he, “that the Tribunate was absolutely useless, while it cost nearly half a million; I therefore suppressed it. I was well aware that an outcry would be raised against the violation of the law; but I was strong: I possessed the full confidence of the people, and I considered myself a reformer. This at least is certain, that I did all for the best. I should, on the contrary, have created the Tribunate, had I been hypocritical or evil-disposed; for who can doubt that it would have adopted and sanctioned, when necessary, my views and intentions? But that was what I never sought after in the whole course of my administration. I never purchased any vote or decision by promises, money, or places; and if I distributed favours to ministers, councillors of state, and legislators, it was because there were things to give away, and it was natural and even just that they should be dealt out among those whose avocations brought them in contact with me.
“In my time all constituted bodies were pure and irreproachable: and I can firmly declare that they acted from conviction. Malevolence and folly may have asserted the contrary; but without ground. If those bodies were condemned, it was by persons who knew them not, or wished not to know them: and the reproaches that were levelled at them, must be attributed to the discontent or opposition of the time; and above all, to that spirit of envy, detraction, and ridicule, which is so peculiarly natural to the French people. The Senate has been much abused; great outcry has been raised against its servility and baseness; but declamation is not proof. What was the Senate expected to do? To refuse conscripts? Was it wished that the committees of personal liberty and of the liberty of the press should bring disgrace upon the Government? or that the Senate should do what was done in 1813 by a committee of the Legislative body? But where did that measure lead us? I doubt whether the French people are now very grateful for it. The truth is that we were placed in forced and unnatural circumstances: men of understanding knew this, and accommodated themselves to the urgency of the moment. It is not known that, in almost every important measure, the senators, before they gave their vote, came to communicate to me privately, and sometimes very decidedly, their objections, and even their refusal; and they went away convinced either by my arguments or by the necessity and urgency of affairs. If I never gave publicity to this fact, it was because I governed conscientiously, and because I despised quackery, and every thing like it.
“The votes of the Senate was always unanimous, because their conviction was universal. Endeavours were made at the time to cry up an insignificant minority, whom the hypocritical praises of malevolence, together with their own vanity, or some other perversity of character, excited to harmless opposition. But did the individuals composing that minority evince, in the last crisis, either sound heads or sincere hearts? I once more repeat that the career of the Senate was irreproachable; the moment of its fall was alone disgraceful and culpable. Without right, without power, and in violation of every principle, the Senate surrendered France, and accomplished her ruin. That body was the sport of high intriguers, whose interest it was to discredit and degrade it, and to ruin one of the great bases of the modern system. It may be truly said that they succeeded completely; for I know of no body that ought to be described in history with more ignominy than the French Senate. However, it is but just to observe that the stain rests not on the majority, and that among the delinquents there was a multitude of foreigners, who will at least be in future indifferent to our honour and interests.”
On the arrival of the Count d’Artois, the Council of State exerted every effort to attract his attention, and secure his favour. A deputation of the Council was twice presented to him, and permission was solicited to send one to meet the King at Compèigne. To this solicitation the Lieutenant-General of the kingdom replied, that the King would willingly receive the individual members of the Council; but that the sending of a deputation was a thing not to be thought of. It is true that the gros bonnets, that is to say the Chiefs of the Section, were absent. All this agitation had no other object than to insure the payment of their salary, and, perhaps, the retention of their places. Thus the Council of State immediately signed its adherence to the resolutions of the Senate, avoiding, it is true, every expression that might be offensive to Napoleon; “And you signed it,” said the Emperor. “No, Sire, I declined signing that adherence, on the ground that it was an egregious piece of folly to endeavour to remain successively the councillor and the confidential servant of two antagonists; and that, besides, if the conqueror were wise, the best pledge that could be offered to his notice would be fidelity and respect towards the conquered party.”—“And you reasoned rightly,” observed Napoleon.
5th.—Nearly all our party were assembled round the Emperor in the garden. Those who were lodged in the town complained much of the inconvenience and continual vexations to which they were exposed. The Emperor, for the last fortnight, had laid down the rule of making no communication on this head, except in writing, which he conceived to be the manner most suitable and best calculated to produce the wished-for result. He had drawn up a note on this subject, which should have been delivered some days ago, but which had been neglected. He alluded several times to this business, and in a tone of displeasure. All his indirect arguments and observations applied to the Grand Marshal. The latter at length took umbrage: for who is not rendered irritable by misfortune? He expressed himself in rather pointed language. His wife, who was standing near the garden-gate, despairing of being able to appease the storm, withdrew. I had now an opportunity of observing how the impressions produced by this circumstance succeeded each other with rapidity in the Emperor’s mind. Reason, logic, and it may be added, sentiment, always prevailed.—“If,” said he, “you did not deliver the letter because you considered it to be couched in offensive terms, you performed a duty of friendship; but surely this did not require a delay of more than twenty-four hours. A fortnight has elapsed without your mentioning it to me. If the plan was faulty, if the letter was ill-expressed, why not have told me so? I should have assembled you all to discuss the matter with me.”
We all stood near the arbour at the extremity of the path, while the Emperor walked to and fro before us. At a moment, when he had gone to a little distance from us, and was out of hearing, the Grand Marshal, addressing himself to me, said:—“I fear I have expressed myself improperly, and I am sorry for it.”—“We will leave you alone with him,” said I; “you will soon make him forget the offence.” I accordingly beckoned the other individuals who were present to leave the garden.
In the evening, the Emperor, conversing with me about the events of the morning, said:—“It was after we had made it up with the Grand Marshal—It was before the misunderstanding with the Grand Marshal,”—and other things of the same sort, which proved that the affair had left no impression on his heart.