THE FIRST INSULT, AND THE FIRST INSTANCE OF CRUELTY, ON THE PART OF THE GOVERNOR.—CHARACTERISTIC TRAITS.
27th.—About two o’clock, the Governor came to Longwood, and asked the Emperor’s leave to summon all the domestics before him. This was the first insult received from the Governor.
He probably wished to ascertain whether their declarations had been spontaneously made. M. de Montholon, who had the superintendence of the servants, informed Sir Hudson Lowe, in the Emperor’s name, that his Majesty had not imagined there could have been any pretence for interference between him and his valet de chambre; that, if his permission were asked, he decidedly refused it; that, if the Governor’s instructions required the adoption of this measure, the power was in his own hands, and he might use it: this would only be adding another outrage to those which the English Ministers had already accumulated upon him.
At this moment I joined M. de Montholon and the Governor. I could easily perceive that the two interlocutors were by no means pleased with each other. After a few moments’ silence and evident dissatisfaction, the Governor turned to me, and remarked that pains seemed to be taken to create difficulties and embarrassments in all that regarded the Emperor. I observed that Napoleon’s household having been appointed for him, and not being one of his choice, it was perfectly natural that he should object to any interference with his servants; that, if the Governor had any doubts to clear up relative to the domestics, two courses were open to him. He might resort to indirect and underhand means, which at least would not wound our feelings; or he might employ force and authority; that he possessed these, and there was nothing to restrain him from resorting to them. But I added that the method he was pursuing was quite hostile to our habits. I assured him that the Emperor was desirous of being as accommodating as possible, in the new situation in which he was placed: that he wished to retire within himself, asking for nothing but to be left unannoyed: that fortune had indeed robbed him of his power, but that nothing could deprive him of his self-respect: and, finally, that the consciousness and the delicacy of his dignity were the only things that remained to him of which he could call himself the master.
Meanwhile the servants were assembled, and M. de Montholon and I withdrew, that we might not sanction such a measure by our presence. The Governor spoke to the domestics, and afterwards joined us, saying:—"I am now satisfied. I can inform the English Government that they all signed it freely and voluntarily."
But his ill-humour was not yet fully spent; for he began most inopportunely to extol the beautiful situation of Longwood, observing that, after all, we were not so very badly off. And when we remarked that we felt most severely the want of shade in this burning climate, and that there was scarcely a single tree on the Island. “Oh! we will plant some!” said he. Could any thing have been more cutting?... This may be recorded as the first trait of brutality on the part of the Governor. After this he took his leave.
About five o’clock the Emperor got into the carriage to take an airing. As we were going out, he said, “Gentlemen, but for one man I should have been master of the world! And who do you think this one man was?” We were all eagerness to know.... “The Abbé[Abbé] de Pradt,” continued the Emperor, “the Almoner of the God of War.” On hearing this we could not repress our laughter. “I am serious,” continued he, “the Abbé thus expresses himself in his Embassy to Warsaw; you may read it yourselves. The work is altogether a wicked attack on me, an absolute libel, overwhelming me with insults and calumnies. Whether I happened to be in a particularly good-humour at the time, or whether it was because only truth offends, I know not; but, at all events, I laughed heartily when I read the work, and it afforded me abundant entertainment.”
Misunderstandings occasionally occurred between two individuals of the Emperor’s suite. This circumstance would not have been mentioned here, but that it serves to introduce some characteristic traits of the mind and heart of him to whom we are devoted. The newspapers of the time, and the return of one of the parties to Europe, in consequence of these misunderstandings, however, have already given publicity to the affair.
When I entered the drawing-room, to wait until the announcement of dinner, I found the Emperor speaking with the utmost warmth on this subject, which vexed him exceedingly. His language was energetic and moving.
“You followed me,” said he, “with the view of cheering my captivity! Be brothers, then! otherwise you but annoy me. If you wish to render me happy, be brothers, or you are but a torment to me! You talk of fighting, and that before my face. I am no longer then the object of your attention. You forget that the observation of foreigners is fixed on you.... I wish you all to be animated by my spirit.... I wish that every one around me should be happy, and share the few enjoyments that yet remain to us. Even down to little Emmanuel there, I would wish you all to have your due share....”
The announcement of dinner put an end to the reprimand. The Emperor was silent during the repast; at the dessert he ordered Voltaire to be brought to him, and began to read some of his dramas; but he soon laid aside the books. We daily became more and more tired of Voltaire.
The Emperor retired very early, and soon after desired me to attend him in his bed-chamber, where I remained with him until a late hour.
THE ABBÉ DE PRADT, AND HIS EMBASSY TO WARSAW.
THE RUSSIAN WAR.—ITS ORIGIN.
28th.—The Emperor again recurred to the Abbé de Pradt and his work, which he reduced to merely the first and last pages. “In the first,” said he, "he states himself to be the only man who arrested Napoleon’s career; in the last, he shows that the Emperor, in his way back from Moscow, dismissed him from the embassy, which is true; and this fact his self-love would fain misrepresent or revenge. This is the whole work....
“But the Abbé,” continued the Emperor, “did not fulfil at Warsaw any of the objects which had been intended; on the contrary, he did a great deal of mischief. Reports against him poured in upon me from every quarter. Even the young men, the clerks attached to the embassy, were surprised at his conduct, and went so far as to accuse him of maintaining an understanding with the enemy; which, however, I by no means believed. But he certainly had a long conversation with me, which he misrepresents, as might be expected; and it was at the very moment when he was delivering a long prosing speech, which appeared to me a mere string of absurdity and impertinence, that I scrawled on the corner of the chimney-piece the order to withdraw him from his embassy, and to send him as soon as possible to France; a circumstance which was the cause of a good deal of merriment at the time, and which the Abbé seems very desirous of concealing.”
I cannot refrain from transcribing from the Embassy to Warsaw, M. de Pradt’s account of the Emperor Napoleon’s court at Dresden. His remarks on this subject are striking, and afford a faithful picture both of men and things at that period.
“You,” he says, "who wish to form a just idea of the omnipotence exercised in Europe by the Emperor Napoleon, who wish to fathom the depths of terror into which almost every European sovereign has fallen, transport yourselves in imagination to Dresden, and there contemplate that superb Prince, at the period of his highest glory, so nearly bordering on his fall!
"The Emperor occupied the state apartments of the palace whither he had transferred a considerable portion of his household. Here he gave grand dinner parties; and, with the exception of the first Sunday, when the King of Saxony had a gala, Napoleon’s parties were always attended by the Sovereigns and different members of their families, according to the invitations issued by the Grand Marshal of the Palace. Some private individuals were admitted on these occasions. I enjoyed that honour on the day of my appointment to the embassy of Warsaw.
"The Emperor’s levees were held here, as at the Tuileries, at nine o’clock. Then with what timid submission did a crowd of Princes, mingling with the courtiers, and often scarcely perceived among them, anxiously await the moment for presenting themselves before the new arbiter of their destinies!"
These passages, and some others of equal truth and beauty of diction, are lost amidst a heap of details full of misrepresentation and malice. “They are distorted facts and mutilated conversations,” said the Emperor: and, adverting to the accounts of the Empress of Austria, which were filled with adulation, and of the Emperor Alexander, whose amiable virtues and brilliant qualities are extolled by the author, to the detriment of Napoleon. “Surely,” exclaimed the Emperor, “this is not a French bishop, but one of the eastern magi—a worshipper of the rising sun.” I shall both now and henceforward suppress, from a feeling of justice, several other articles and many details. The following observations may however be noted down, in opposition to the Abbé de Pradt’s endeavours to prove that the French were the unjust aggressors in the contest with Russia.
The Emperor, speaking of the Russian war, said: "No events are trifling with regard to nations and sovereigns; for it is such that govern their destinies. For some time a misunderstanding had sprung up between France and Russia. France reproached Russia with the violation of the continental system, and Russia required an indemnification for the Duke of Oldenburg, and raised other pretensions. Russian troops were approaching the duchy of Warsaw, and a French army was forming in the north of Germany. Yet we were far from being determined on war, when, all on a sudden, a new Russian army commenced its march towards the Duchy; and, as an ultimatum, an insolent note was presented at Paris by the Russian Ambassador, who, in the event of its nonacceptance, threatened to quit Paris in eight days. I considered this as a declaration of war. It was long since I had been accustomed to this sort of tone. I was not in the habit of allowing myself to be anticipated. I could march to Russia at the head of the rest of Europe; the enterprise was popular; the cause was one which interested Europe. It was the last effort that remained to France. Her fate, and that of the new European system, depended on the struggle. Russia was the last resource of England. The peace of the whole world rested with Russia. The event could not be doubtful. I commenced my march; but when I reached the frontier I, to whom Russia had declared war by withdrawing her Ambassador, still considered it my duty to send mine (Lauriston) to the Emperor Alexander at Wilna: he was rejected, and the war commenced!
"Yet, who would credit it? Alexander and myself were in the situation of two bullies, who, without wishing to fight, were endeavouring to terrify each other. I would most willingly have maintained peace; I was surrounded and overwhelmed with unfavourable circumstances, and all that I have since learned convinces me that Alexander was still less eager for war than myself.
"M. de Romanzoff, who had maintained communications at Paris, and who some time afterwards, when the Russians experienced reverses, was very severely treated by Alexander for the course he had induced him to pursue, had assured the Russian Emperor, that the moment was come when Napoleon, in his embarrassments, would readily make some sacrifices to avoid war; that the favourable opportunity should not be allowed to escape; that it was only necessary to assume a bold attitude, and a tone of firmness; that indemnity would be obtained for the Duke of Oldenburg; that Dantzick might be gained, and that Russia would thus acquire immense weight in Europe.
"Such was the cause of the movement of the Russian troops, and of the insolent note of Prince Kourakin, who, doubtless, was not in the secret, and who had been foolish enough to execute his instructions in too literal a way. The same mistaken notions, and the same system also, occasioned the refusal to receive Lauriston at Wilna. This was an instance of the errors and misfortunes which attended my new diplomacy. It stood insulated, without affinity or contact, in the midst of the objects which it had to direct. Had my Minister for Foreign affairs been a member of the old aristocracy, and a man of superior ability, no doubt he would have observed the cloud that was gathering, and might have prevented our going to war.
“Talleyrand,[“Talleyrand,] perhaps, might have done this: but it was above the powers of the new school. I could not make the discovery myself; my dignity precluded personal explanations. I could form my judgment only from documents, and in vain did I turn them over and over, for I was sure at last to arrive at a point where they could make no reply to my enquiries.
"Scarcely had I opened the campaign, when the mask fell, and the real sentiments of the enemy were developed. In the course of two or three days Alexander, alarmed at our first successes, despatched a messenger to me, to say that if I would evacuate the invaded territory, and fall back as far as the Niemen, he would enter upon negotiations. But I in my turn took this for a stratagem. I was elated with success; I had taken the Russian army in the very fact, in the critical moment; I had cut off Bagration, and I had reason to hope that I should destroy him. I thought, however, that the enemy merely wanted to gain time for the purpose of rallying his forces. Had I been convinced of Alexander’s sincerity, I should doubtless have acceded to his proposition of falling back to the Niemen. In that case, he would not have passed the Dwina; Wilna would have been neutralized: and there Alexander and myself, accompanied by a few battalions of our guards, would have negotiated in person. How many arrangements[arrangements] should I not have proposed!... Alexander would have had only to take his choice, and we should have separated good friends.
"Yet, in spite of the events which succeeded, and which left my enemy triumphant, is it quite certain that the measures I have just hinted at would have been less advantageous than those which have since been pursued? Alexander marched to Paris, it is true, but he came accompanied by the forces of all Europe. He has gained Poland: but what will be the result of the shock given to the whole European system; of the agitation into which every nation has been thrown; of the increase of European influence over the rest of Russia through the accumulation of new acquisitions: the expeditions in which the Russian troops are engaged in remote quarters; and the influence of the incongruous mass of men and knowledge which have taken refuge in Russia from foreign parts?
“Will the Russian sovereigns be content to consolidate what they have acquired? If, on the contrary, they should be influenced by ambition, what extravagant enterprises may they not attempt! And yet they have lost Moscow, her wealth and resources, and those of many other cities! These are wounds which will bleed for half a century. But at Wilna we might have entered into arrangements for the advantage of all, subjects as well as sovereigns!”
On another occasion, the Emperor said, "I might have shared with Russia the possession of the Turkish empire. We had oftener than once contemplated the idea, but Constantinople was always the obstacle that opposed its execution. The Turkish capital was the grand stumbling-block between us. Russia wanted it, and I could not resign it. Constantinople is worth an empire of itself. It is the real keystone of power; for he who possesses it may rule the world.
“What then?” said the Emperor, resuming the former question, “what has Alexander gained, which he might not have secured to better advantage at Wilna?”—Some one present replied, “Sire, he has conquered, and he remains triumphant.”—"That may be the vulgar opinion," exclaimed the Emperor, "but no Sovereign should entertain such an idea. A monarch, if he himself governs, or his councillors, if they govern for him, must, in vast enterprises of this nature, attach less importance to the victory than to its results. And even though the case be limited to vulgar considerations, still I maintain that the wished-for object has not been attained. Even here the palm must be awarded to the vanquished party. Who will pretend that my victories in Germany were equalled by the successes of the Allies in France? Will any thinking man, will any historian pronounce such an opinion?
"The Allies advanced with all Europe in their train, against a force which might be almost counted as nothing. They had 600,000 men in the line, and nearly an equal number in reserve. If they had been beaten, they had nothing to fear, they could have fallen back. I, on the contrary, in Germany, 500 leagues from home, had hardly a force equal to my enemy’s. I was surrounded by sovereigns and people repressed only by fear, and who, on the first disaster, were ready to rise against me. But I triumphed amidst dangers constantly increasing; I was incessantly compelled to exercise an equal degree of address and energy. In all these enterprises I found it necessary to display a strange character, strange views and a strange confidence in my own plans, which were disapproved perhaps by every one around me.
"What deeds on the part of the Allies can be compared with these? If I had not conquered at Austerlitz, I should have had all Prussia on me. If I had not proved victorious at Jena, Austria and Spain would have assailed me in my rear. If I had not triumphed at Wagram, which by the by, was a less decisive victory, I had to fear that Russia would abandon me, that Prussia would rise against me; and meanwhile the English were already before Antwerp.
"Yet what was my conduct after the victory? At Austerlitz, I gave Alexander his liberty, though I might have made him my prisoner.[[9]] After Jena I left the House of Prussia in possession of a throne which I had conquered: after Wagram, I neglected to parcel out the Austrian monarchy.
“If[“If] all this be attributed merely to magnanimity, cold and calculating politicians will doubtless blame me. But, without rejecting that sentiment, to which I am not a stranger, I had higher aims in view. I wished to bring about the amalgamation of the great European interests, in the same manner as I had effected the union of parties in France. My ambition was one day to become the arbiter in the great cause of nations and kings; it was therefore necessary that I should secure to myself claims on their gratitude, and seek to render myself popular among them. This I could not do without losing something in the estimation of the people. I was aware of this. But I was powerful and fearless. I concerned myself but little about transient popular murmurs, being very sure that the result would infallibly bring the people over to my side.
“I committed a great fault after the battle of Wagram, in not reducing the power of Austria still more. She remained too strong for our safety, and to her we must attribute our ruin. The day after the battle, I should have made known, by proclamation, that I would treat with Austria only on condition of the preliminary separation of the three crowns of Austria, Hungary, and Bohemia. Will it be credited? A Prince of the House of Austria several times hinted to me the idea of transferring one of the two last-mentioned crowns to himself, or even raising him to the throne occupied by his own family, on pretence that it was only thus that Austria could be induced to act sincerely with me. He even proposed to give me, by way of hostage, ——— and moreover, every possible guarantee.”
The Emperor said, that he had even turned this idea over in his own mind. He had hesitated about it for some time previously to his marriage with Maria Louisa; but after that event, continued he, it became impracticable. He observed that on the subject of marriage his notions were too citizen-like:—"Austria," said he, “had become a portion of my own family; and yet my marriage ruined me. If I had not thought myself safe and protected by this alliance, I should have delayed for three years the resurrection of Poland; I should have waited until Spain was subdued and tranquil. I stepped upon an abyss, covered by flowers.”