FRENCH COLONY ON THE BANKS OF THE RIVER ST. LAWRENCE.—THE EMPEROR MIGHT HAVE PROCEEDED TO AMERICA.—CARNOT AT THE TIME OF THE ABDICATION.
26th.—The Emperor sent for me about two o’clock. He was not well and was much fatigued. We looked over a few newspapers.
In these papers it was stated that Joseph Bonaparte had made extensive purchases of land on the north of the State of New York, on the river St. Lawrence, and that a great number of French families had grouped round him and were soon likely to form a numerous colony. It was remarked that the spot seemed to have been fixed on with a view to the interests of the United States, and in opposition to the policy of England. In the south, in Louisiana, for example, the refugees could have looked forward only to the enjoyment of repose and domestic happiness; but in their present situation they must soon become a natural attraction to the population of Canada, which was already French, and they must ultimately form a strong barrier, or even a hostile point against the English, who yet possess the dominion of that part of America. The Emperor said that the establishment would in a few years present a numerous population, distinguished for all sorts of useful knowledge. If they do their duty, said he, they will transmit from their colony excellent writings, victorious refutations of the system which now triumphs in Europe. When at the Island of Elba, the Emperor had entertained a similar idea.
He then proceeded to calculate all that he had given to the different members of his family; and observed that they might have amassed considerable sums of money. For his part, he said, he had nothing; if in the course of time, he should find himself in possession of any property in Europe, he should be wholly indebted for it to the foresight and contrivance of some of his friends.
If the Emperor had gone to America, he intended to have collected all his relatives around him; and he supposed that they might have realized at least forty millions of francs. This point would have become the nucleus of a national union, a second France. Before the conclusion of a year, the events of Europe would have collected around him a hundred millions of francs and sixty thousand individuals, most of them possessing wealth, talent, and information. The Emperor said that he should have liked to realize that dream; it would have been a renewal of his glory.
“America,” continued he, “was in all respects our proper asylum. It is an immense continent, possessing the advantages of a peculiar system of freedom. If a man is troubled with melancholy, he may get into a coach, and drive a thousand leagues, enjoying all the way the pleasure of a common traveller. In America you may be on a footing of equality with every one; you may, if you please, mingle with the crowd, without inconvenience, retaining your own manners, your own language, your own religion, &c.”
He said it was impossible that he could henceforth consider himself as a private man in Europe; his name was too popular throughout the continent. He was in some way or other connected with every people, and belonged to every country.
“As for you,” said he to me smiling, “your fate seemed naturally to lead you to the shores of the Oronooko or to Mexico, where the recollection of the good Las Cases is not yet obliterated. You would there have enjoyed all you could have wished. The destinies of some men seem to be marked out. Gregoire, for instance, has only to go to Hayti, and he would immediately be made a Pope.”
At the time of the Emperor’s second abdication, an American in Paris wrote to him as follows:—"While you were at the head of a nation, you could perform any miracle, you might conceive any hopes; but now you can do nothing more in Europe. Fly to the United States! I know the hearts of the leading men and the sentiments of the people of America. You will there find a second country and every source of consolation." The Emperor would not listen to such a suggestion. He might, doubtless, by dint of speed or disguise, have gained Brest, Nantes, Bordeaux, or Toulon, and in all probability have reached America; but he conceived that either disguise or flight would be derogatory from his dignity. He thought himself bound to prove to all Europe his full confidence in the French people, and their extreme attachment to him, by passing through his dominions at such a crisis, merely in the quality of a private man, and unattended by any escort. But what above all influenced him at that critical moment was the hope that impending dangers would open the eyes of his subjects, that they would rally around him, and that he might save the country. This hope caused him to linger at Malmaison, and to postpone his departure, after he had reached Rochefort. If he is now at St. Helena, he owes his captivity to this sentiment, of which he was unable to divest himself. Subsequently, when he had no other resource than to accept the hospitality of the Bellerophon, it was not perhaps without a feeling of inward satisfaction that he found himself, by the force of circumstances, irresistibly led to fix his abode in England, where he might enjoy the happiness of being still but little removed from France. He was well aware that he could not be free in England; but he hoped to be heard, and then a chance would at least have been open to the impressions which he might create. “The English Ministers,” said he, “who are the enemies of their country, and who have sold her to foreigners, thought they had too much cause to dread my presence. They conceived that my opinion in London would be more powerful than the whole Opposition: that it would have compelled them either to change their system or resign their places; and, to keep themselves in place, they basely sacrificed the true interests of their country, the triumph, the glory of her laws, the peace of the world, the welfare of Europe, the happiness and the benedictions of posterity.”
In the course of conversation during the evening, the Emperor once more adverted to Waterloo, and described his anxiety and indecision before he came to a final resolution respecting his abdication. I pass over a multitude of details, lest I should be led into repetition; I note down only the following:—
The Emperor’s speech to his ministers was the literal prophecy of all that subsequently took place. Carnot was the only one who seemed to take a right view of the case. He opposed the abdication, which he said was a death-blow to France; and he wished that we should defend ourselves even to annihilation. Carnot was the only one who maintained this opinion; all the rest were for the abdication. That measure was determined, and Carnot, covering his face with his hands, burst into tears.
At another moment the Emperor said, “I am not a God: I cannot do all by my own single efforts: I cannot save the nation without the help of the nation. I am certain that the people then entertained these sentiments, and that they are now suffering undeservedly. It was the host of intriguers, and men possessing titles and offices, who were really guilty. That which misled them, and which ruined me, was the mild system of 1814, the benignity of the restoration; they looked for a repetition of this lenity. The change of the Sovereign had become a mere joke. They all calculated on remaining just as they had been before, whether I should be succeeded by Louis XVIII. or any other. These stupid, selfish, and egotistical men looked upon the great event as merely a competition, about which they cared but little; and they thought only of their individual interests, when a deadly war of principles was about to be commenced. And why should I disguise the truth? There were among the individuals whom I had elevated, and by whom I was surrounded, a number of proud ...!” Then, turning to me, he added, “I am not alluding to your Faubourg St. Germain, with respect to which the matter was totally different, and for which some excuse may be found. During my first reverses in 1814, the greatest traitors were not the persons connected with that party, of whom I had no great cause to complain; and, who, therefore, on my return, were not bound to me by any particular ties of gratitude. I had abdicated, the King was restored. They had but returned to their old attachments, and had only renewed their allegiance.”