Memoirs of the life, exile, and conversations of the Emperor Napoleon. (Vol. II)

by comte de Emmanuel-Auguste-Dieudonné Las Cases

THE MONITEUR AND LIBERTY OF THE PRESS.

June 13th.—The Emperor had just run over a great many numbers of the Moniteur. “These Moniteurs,” said he, “so terrible and dangerous to so many reputations, are uniformly useful and favourable to me alone. It is with official documents that men of sense and real talents will write history; now, these documents are full of the spirit of my government, and to them I make an earnest and solemn appeal.” He added, that he had made the Moniteur the soul and life-blood of his government, and that it was the intermediate instrument of his communications with public opinion, both abroad and at home. Every government had since followed his example more or less in that respect.

“Whatever serious fault might be committed by any of the high functionaries employed in the interior, immediately,” said the Emperor, "an enquiry was set on foot by three Councillors of State. They made their report to me, confirmed the facts and discussed the principles. For my own part, I had nothing more to do than to write at the bottom—‘Dispatched for execution according to the laws of the republic, or of the empire.’ My interference was at an end, the public result accomplished, and popular opinion did justice to the transaction. It was the most formidable and dreadful of my tribunals. Did any question arise abroad respecting certain grand political combinations or some delicate points of diplomacy? The objects were indirectly hinted at in the Moniteur. They instantly attracted universal attention and became the topics of general investigation. This conduct was at once the orderly signal for the adherents of the throne, and at the same time an appeal to the opinion of all. The Moniteur has been reproached for the acrimony and virulence of its notes against the enemy. But before we condemn them, we are bound to take into consideration the benefits they may have produced, the anxiety with which they occasionally gave the enemy, the terror with which they struck a hesitating cabinet, the stimulus which they imparted to our allies, the confidence and audacity with which they inspired our troops," &c.

The conversation next turned upon the liberty of the press, and the Emperor asked our opinions. We talked for a long time very idly on the subject, and threw out a great number of common-place ideas. Some were hostile to it. “Nothing,” said they, “can resist the liberty of the press. It is capable of overthrowing every government, of agitating every society, of destroying every reputation.” “It is only,” observed others, “its prohibition that is dangerous. If it be restricted, it becomes a mine that must explode, but if left to itself it is merely an unbent bow, that can inflict no wound.” Here the Emperor observed, that he was far from being convinced with regard to that point, but that it was no longer the question for consideration; that there were institutions at present, and the liberty of the press was among the number, on the excellence of which we were no longer called upon to decide, but solely to determine the possibility of withholding them from the overbearing influence of popular opinion. He declared, that the prohibition under a representative government was a gross anachronism, a downright absurdity. He had, therefore, on his return from the Isle of Elba, abandoned the press to all its excesses, and he was well assured, that they had, in no respect, contributed to his recent downfall. When it was proposed in council, in his presence, to discuss the means of sheltering the authority of the State from its attacks, he jocosely remarked, “Gentlemen, it is probably yourselves you wish to protect, for, with respect to me, I shall henceforth continue a stranger to all such proceedings. The press has exhausted itself upon me during my absence, and I now defy it to produce any thing new or provoking against me.”

THE WAR, AND ROYAL FAMILY OF SPAIN.—FERDINAND AT VALENCEY.—ERRORS IN THE AFFAIRS OF SPAIN.—HISTORICAL SKETCH OF THESE EVENTS, &C.—NAPOLEON’S ADMIRABLE LETTER TO MURAT.

June 14th.—The Emperor had been ill the whole of the night, and continued so during the day; he had a foot-bath, and was not inclined to go out; he dined alone in his apartment, and sent for me towards the evening.

The Emperor began the conversation, of which the constant subject was the Spanish war. It has been seen in the notice which I have already taken of it, that the Emperor took upon himself the whole blame of the measure. I wish to avoid repetitions as much as possible, and shall, therefore, allude to those topics only which appeared new to me.

“The old King and Queen,” said the Emperor, "at the moment of the event, were the objects of the hatred and contempt of their subjects. The Prince of Asturias conspired against them, forced them to abdicate, and at once united in his own person the love and hopes of the nation. That nation was, however, ripe for great changes and demanded them with energy. I enjoyed vast popularity in the country, and it was in that state of things that all these personages met at Bayonne; the old king calling upon me for vengeance against his son, and the young prince soliciting my protection against his father, and imploring a wife at my hands. I resolved to convert this singular occasion to my advantage, with the view of delivering myself from that branch of the Bourbons, of continuing in my own dynasty the family system of Louis XIV. and of binding Spain to the destinies of France. Ferdinand was sent to Valencey, the old king to Marseilles, as he wished, and my brother Joseph went to reign at Madrid with a liberal constitution, adopted by a junta of the Spanish nation, which had come to receive it at Bayonne.

“It seems to me,” continued he, "that Europe, and even France, has never had a just idea of Ferdinand’s situation at Valencey. There is a strange misunderstanding in the world with respect to the treatment he experienced, and still more so, with respect to his wishes and personal opinions as to that situation. The fact is, that he was scarcely guarded at Valencey, and that he did not wish to escape. If any plots were contrived to favour his evasion, he was the first to make them known. An Irishman (Baron de Colli) gained access to his person, and offered, in the name of George the Third, to carry him off; but Ferdinand, so far from embracing the offer, instantly communicated it to the proper authority.

“His applications to me for a wife at my hands were incessant. He spontaneously wrote to me letters of congratulation upon every event that occurred in my favour. He had addressed proclamations to the Spaniards recommending their submission; he had recognized Joseph. All these were circumstances which might, indeed, have been considered as forced upon him; but he requested from him the insignia of his grand order; he tendered to me the services of his brother, Don Carlos, to take the command of the Spanish regiments, which were marching to Russia,—proceedings to which he was, in no respect, obliged. To sum up all, he earnestly solicited my permission to visit my court at Paris, and if I did not lend myself to a spectacle, which would have astonished Europe, by displaying the full consolidation of my power, it was because the important circumstances which called me abroad, and my frequent absence from the capital, deprived me of the proper opportunity.”

About the beginning of a year, at one of the Emperor’s levees, I happened to be next to the Chamberlain, Count d’Arberg, who had been doing duty at Valencey, near the persons of the princes of Spain. When the Emperor approached, he enquired if these princes conducted themselves with propriety, and added; “You have brought me a very pretty letter; but between ourselves, it was you who wrote it for them.” D’Arberg assured him, that he was altogether unacquainted even with the nature of its contents. “Well,” said the Emperor, “a son could not write more cordially to his father.”

“When our situation in Spain,” observed the Emperor, “proved dangerous, I more than once proposed to Ferdinand to return and reign over his people; that we should openly carry on war against each other: and that the contest should be decided by the fate of arms.” “No,” answered the prince, who seems to have been well advised, and never deviated from that way of thinking. “My country is agitated by political disturbances; I should but multiply its embarrassments: I might become their victim, and lose my head upon the scaffold. I remain; but, if you will choose a wife for me, if you will grant me your protection and the support of your arms, I shall set out and prove a faithful ally.”

"At a later period, during our disasters, and towards the end of 1813, I yielded to that proposal, and Ferdinand’s marriage with Joseph’s eldest daughter was decided; but circumstances were then no longer the same, and Ferdinand was desirous that the marriage should be deferred. “You can no longer,” he observed, support me with your arms, and I ought not to make my wife a title of exclusion in the eyes of my people." “He left me,” continued the Emperor, “as it seemed, with every intention of good faith, for he adhered to the principles which he avowed on his departure, until the events of Fontainebleau.”

The Emperor declared that, had the affairs of 1814 turned out differently, he would unquestionably have accomplished his marriage with Joseph’s daughter.

The Emperor, in reverting to these affairs, said, that the impolicy of his own conduct was irrevocably decided by the results; but that independently of this kind of proof, depending upon consequences, he had to reproach himself with serious faults in the execution of his plans. One of the greatest was that of considering the dethronement of the dynasty of the Bourbons as a matter of importance, and of maintaining as the basis of this system, for its successor, precisely that man, who from his qualities and character, was certain to cause its failure.

During the meeting at Bayonne, Ferdinand’s former preceptor and his principal counsellor (Escoiquiz) at once perceiving the vast projects entertained by the Emperor, and pleading the cause of his master, said to him: "You wish to create for yourself a kind of Herculean labour, when you have but child’s play in hand. You wish to rid yourselves of the Bourbons of Spain; why should you be apprehensive of them? They have ceased to exist; they are no longer French. You have nothing to fear from them; they are altogether aliens with respect to your nation and your manners. You have here Madame de Montmorency, and some new ladies of your Court; they are not more acquainted with the one than with the other, and view them all with equal indifference." The Emperor unfortunately formed a different resolution.

I took the liberty of telling him, I had been assured by some Spaniards, that, if the national pride had been respected, and the Spanish junta held at Madrid instead of Bayonne, or even, if Charles IV. had been sent off and Ferdinand retained, the revolution would have been popular, and affairs would have taken another turn. The Emperor entertained no doubt of it, and agreed that the enterprize had been imprudently undertaken, and that many circumstances might have been better conducted. “Charles IV.,” said he, "was, however, too stale for the Spaniards. Ferdinand should have been considered in the same light. The plan most worthy of me, and the best suited to my project, would have been a kind of mediation like that of Switzerland. I ought to have given a liberal constitution to the Spanish nation, and charged Ferdinand with its execution. If he had acted with good faith, Spain must have prospered and harmonized with our new manners. The great object would have been obtained, and France would have acquired an intimate ally and an addition of power truly formidable. Had Ferdinand, on the contrary, proved faithless to his new engagements, the Spaniards themselves would not have failed to dismiss him, and would have applied to me for a ruler in his place.

“At all events,” concluded the Emperor, "that unfortunate war in Spain was a real affliction, and the first cause of the calamities of France. After my conferences at Erfurt with Alexander, England ought to have been compelled to make peace by the force of arms or of reason. She had lost the esteem of the continent; her attack upon Copenhagen had disgusted the public mind, while I distinguished myself at that moment by every contrary advantage, when that disastrous affair of Spain presented itself to effect a sudden change against me and reinstate England in the public estimation. She was enabled, from that moment, to continue the war; the trade with South America was thrown open to her; she formed an army for herself in the peninsula, and next became the victorious agent, the main point, of all the plots which were hatched on the continent. All this effected my ruin.

"I was then assailed with imputations, for which, however, I had given no cause. History will do me justice. I was charged in that affair with perfidy, with laying snares, and with bad faith, and yet I was completely innocent. Whatever may have been said to the contrary, never have I broken any engagement, or violated my promise, either with regard to Spain or any other power.

"The world will one day be convinced, that in the principal transactions relative to Spain I was completely a stranger to all the domestic intrigues of its Court: that I broke no promise made either to Charles IV. or to Ferdinand VII.: that I violated no engagement with the father or the son: that I made use of no falsehoods to entice them both to Bayonne, but that they both strove which should be the first there. When I saw them at my feet and was enabled to form a correct opinion of their total incapacity, I beheld with compassion the fate of a great people; I eagerly seized the singular opportunity, held out to me by fortune, for regenerating Spain, rescuing her from the yoke of England, and intimately uniting her with our system. It was, in my conception, laying the fundamental basis of the tranquillity, and security of Europe. But I was far from employing for that purpose, as it has been reported, any base and paltry stratagems. If I erred, it was, on the contrary, by daring openness and extraordinary energy. Bayonne was not the scene of premeditated ambush, but of a vast master-stroke of state policy. I could have preserved myself from these imputations by a little hypocrisy, or by giving up the Prince of the Peace to the fury of the people; but the idea appeared horrible to me, and struck me as if I was to receive the price of blood. Besides, it must also be acknowledged that Murat did me a great deal of mischief in the whole affair.

"Be that as it may, I disdained having recourse to crooked and common-place expedients—I found myself so powerful!—I dared to strike from a situation too exalted. I wished to act like Providence, which, of its own accord, applies remedies to the wretchedness of mankind, by means occasionally violent, but for which it is unaccountable to human judgment.

“I candidly confess, however, that I engaged very inconsiderately in the whole affair; its immorality must have shewn itself too openly, its injustice too glaringly, and the transactions taken altogether, present a disgusting aspect, more particularly since my failure; for the outrage is no longer seen but in its hideous nakedness, stripped of all loftiness of idea, and of the numerous benefits which it was my intention to confer. Posterity, however, would have extolled it had I succeeded, and perhaps with reason, on account of its vast and happy results. Such is our lot, and such our judgment in this world!... But I once more declare, that, in no instance was there any breach of faith, any perfidy or falsehood, and, what is more, there was no occasion for them.” Here the Emperor resumed, in its totality and in its origin, the history of the affair of Spain, repeating many things which have been already noticed.

“The Court and the reigning family,” said the Emperor, "were split into two parties. The one was that of the monarch, blindly governed by his favourite, the Prince of the Peace, who had constituted himself the real king; the other was that of the heir presumptive, headed by his preceptor, Escoiquiz, who aspired to the government. These two parties were equally desirous of my support, and made me the most flattering promises. I was, no doubt, determined to derive every possible advantage from their situation.

"The favourite, in order to continue in office, as well as to shelter himself from the vengeance of the son, in case of the father’s death, offered me, in the name of Charles IV. to effect, in concert, the conquest of Portugal, reserving as an asylum for himself, the sovereignty of the Algarves.

"On the other hand, the prince of the Asturias wrote to me privately, without his father’s knowledge, soliciting a wife of my choice, and imploring my protection.

"I concluded an agreement with the former, and returned no answer to the latter. My troops were already admitted into the Peninsula, when the son took advantage of a commotion to make his father abdicate and to reign in his place.

"It has been foolishly imputed to me, that I took part in all these intrigues, but so far was I from having any knowledge of them, that the last event, in particular, disconcerted all my projects with the father, in consequence of which my troops were already in the heart of Spain. The two parties were aware, from that moment, that I could and ought to be the arbiter between them. The dethroned monarch and the son had recourse to me, the one for the purpose of obtaining vengeance, and the other, for the purpose of being recognised. They both hastened to plead their cause before me, and they were urged on by their respective councillors, those very persons who absolutely governed them, and who saw no means of preserving their own lives but by throwing themselves into my arms.

"The Prince of the Peace, who had narrowly escaped being murdered, easily persuaded Charles IV. and his queen to undertake the journey, as they had themselves been in danger of falling victims to the fury of the multitude.

“On his part, the preceptor Escoiquiz, the real author of all the calamities of Spain, alarmed at seeing Charles IV. protest against his abdication, and in dread of the scaffold, unless his pupil triumphed, exerted every means to influence the young King. This Canon, who had besides a very high opinion of his own talents, did not despair of making an impression on my decisions by his arguments, and of inducing me to acknowledge Ferdinand, making me a tender, on his own account, of his services to govern, altogether under my control, as effectually as the Prince of the Peace could, in the name of Charles IV. And it must be owned,” said the Emperor, "that, had I listened to several of his reasons, and adopted some of his ideas, it had been much better for me.

"When I had them all assembled at Bayonne, I felt a confidence in my political system, to which I never before had the presumption to aspire. I had not made my combinations, but I took advantage of the moment. I here found the Gordian knot before me, and I cut it. I proposed to Charles IV. and the Queen, to resign the crown of Spain to me, and to live quietly in France. They agreed, I may say, almost with joy, to the proposal, so inveterately were they exasperated against their son, and so earnestly did they and their favourite wish to enjoy, for the future, tranquillity and safety. The Prince of the Asturias made no extraordinary resistance to the plan, but neither violence nor threats were employed against him; and if he was influenced by fear, which I am very willing to believe, that could only be his concern.

"There you have in very few words, the complete historical sketch of the affair of Spain; whatever may be said, or written on it must amount to that; and you see that there could be no occasion for me to have recourse to paltry tricks, to falsehoods, to breaches of faith, or violation of engagements. In order to establish my guilt, it would be necessary to shew my inclination to degrade myself gratuitously; but of that propensity I have never furnished an instance.

"For the rest, the instant my decision was known, the crowd of intriguers who swarm in every court, and even those among them who had been the most active in producing the misfortunes of their country, strove to curry favour with Joseph, as they had done with Charles IV. and Ferdinand VII. They watched, with extraordinary diligence, the progress of events, and changed sides at a later period, in proportion as difficulties encreased, and our disasters approached. They pursued the plan so successfully, that they are the persons, who, at this moment, govern Ferdinand. And, what is truly horrible, the better to secure their influence, they did not hesitate to impute whatever was odious and criminal in past calamities, to the mass of simpletons, whom they proscribed and banished;—of those men naturally well-disposed, and who, in principle, decidedly blamed Ferdinand’s journey. Of this latter class, several who opposed the journey afterwards took the oath of allegiance to Joseph, who seemed then to be identified with the happiness and tranquillity of their country, and continued faithful to him, until the grand catastrophe that drove him from the throne.

“It would be difficult to accumulate a greater mass of impudence and baseness than that exhibited by all those intriguers, the principal performers in that grand scene, which, by the way, extenuates the degradation to which similar acts of vileness have reduced France[France] in the eyes of Europe. It is evident, that they do not belong to her exclusively. Intriguing, ambitious, rapacious men, are every where to be found, and are every where the same. Individuals alone are guilty; nations cannot incur the responsibility. Their only disadvantage arises from their being forced to witness these misdeeds. Unhappy the country which becomes the scene of them!”

At present, the affair of Spain is perfectly known, thanks to the writings of the principal actors, the canon Escoiquiz, the minister Cevallos, and others, but above all, to those of the worthy and respectable M. Llorente, who, under the anagrammatic signature of Nellerto, has published the Memoirs of that time, sanctioned by all the official documents. The opposite contradictions of the two first, their mutual disputes, the assertions and denials of their contemporaries, have reduced their writings to their real value, by stripping them of whatever was erroneous, false, or even fabricated. The result is, that in the opinion of every cool and impartial judge, they all concur, even involuntarily, in confirming the justificatory assertions advanced by Napoleon; not but that they display that difference which must inevitably arise from the diversity of party-interests; but solely because neither of them actually establishes the grounds of positive crimination, nor furnishes any official document by which it can be proved, while all those which exist attest and establish the contrary.

It may also be remarked in the history of those transactions, which must now be considered as genuine, that England herself was altogether a stranger to them, at least with respect to their origin, a fact which was far from Napoleon’s way of thinking, who charged the English at the time with being the first cause of all the intrigues, and who still persevered in the accusation at St. Helena: so accustomed was he to discover them at the bottom of every plot formed against him.

With respect to this affair of Spain, I have further to notice a letter from the Emperor, which throws more light upon the subject than volumes. It is admirable, and the events which followed stamp it as a masterpiece. It exhibits the rapidity, the eagle-eyed view, with which Napoleon formed his opinion of men and things.

Unfortunately, it also shews how much the execution of the inferiors, employed during the greater part of the time, destroyed the finest and most exalted conceptions; and in that point of view this letter remains a very precious document for history. Its date renders it prophetic.

“29th March, 1808.

“Monsieur le Grand Duc de Berg—I am afraid lest you should deceive me with respect to the situation of Spain, and lest you should also deceive yourself. Events have been singularly complicated by the transaction of the 20th of March. I find myself very much perplexed.

“Do not believe that you are about to attack a disarmed nation, and that you can, by a mere parade of your troops, effect the subjugation of Spain. The revolution of the 20th of March proves, that the Spaniards possess energy. You have to contend with a new people; it has all the courage, and will display all the enthusiasm shewn by men, who are not worn out by political passions.

“The aristocracy and the clergy are the masters of Spain. If their privileges and existence be threatened, they will bring into the field against us levies en masse, that may perpetuate the war. I am not without my partisans; but if I shew myself as a conqueror they will abandon me.

“The Prince of the Peace is detested, because he is accused of having betrayed Spain to France. This is the grievance which has assisted Ferdinand’s usurpation. The popular is the weakest party.

“The Prince of the Asturias does not possess a single quality requisite for the head of a nation. That will not prevent his being ranked as a hero, in order that he may be opposed to us. I will have no violence employed against the personages of this family. It can never answer any purpose to excite hatred and inflame animosity. Spain has a hundred thousand men under arms, more than are necessary to carry on an internal war with advantage. Scattered over several parts of the country, they may serve as rallying points for a total insurrection of the monarchy.

“I lay before you all the obstacles which must inevitably happen. There are others of which you must be aware. England will not allow the opportunity to escape her without multiplying our embarrassments. She daily sends packet-boats to the forces, which she maintains on the coasts of Portugal and in the Mediterranean; and she enlists in her service Sicilians and Portuguese.

“The Royal Family not having left Spain for the purpose of establishing itself in its American colonies, the state of the country can be changed only by a revolution. It is, perhaps, of all others in Europe, that which is the least prepared for one. Those who perceive the monstrous defects of that government, and the anarchy which has been substituted for the legitimate authority, are the fewest in number. Those defects and that anarchy are converted to their own advantage by the greatest number.

“I can, consistently with the interests of my empire, do a great deal of good to Spain. What are the best means to be adopted?

“Shall I go to Madrid? Shall I take upon myself the office of Grand Protector in deciding between the father and the son? It seems to me a matter of difficulty to support Charles IV. on the throne. His government and his favourite are so very unpopular, that they could not maintain themselves for three months.

“Ferdinand is the enemy of France, and to that consideration he has been indebted for the crown. His elevation to the throne would be favourable to the factions, which for five-and-twenty years have longed for the destruction of France. A family alliance would be but a feeble tie. Queen Elizabeth and other French princesses perished miserably when they could be immolated with impunity to the atrocious spirit of vengeance. My opinion is, that nothing should be hurried on, and that our measures ought to be regulated by events as they occur. It will be necessary to strengthen the corps d’armée[d’armée] which will be stationed on the frontiers of Portugal, and wait....

“I do not approve of your Imperial Highness’s conduct in so precipitately making yourself master of Madrid. The army ought to have been kept ten leagues from the capital. You had no assurance that the people and the magistracy were about to recognise Ferdinand, without a struggle. The Prince of the Peace must, of course, have partisans among those employed in the public service; there is also an habitual attachment to the old King, which might lead to unpleasant consequences. Your entrance into Madrid, by alarming the Spaniards, has powerfully assisted Ferdinand. I have ordered Savary to attend the new King, and observe what passes. He will concert matters with your Imperial Highness. I shall hereafter decide upon the measures necessary to be pursued. In the mean time, I think it proper to prescribe the following line of conduct to you:

“You will not pledge me to an interview, in Spain, with Ferdinand, unless you consider the state of things to be such that I ought to recognise him King of Spain. You will behave with attention and respect to the King, the Queen, and Prince Godoy. You will require for them, and pay them, the same honours as formerly. You will manage matters so as to prevent the Spaniards from entertaining any suspicions of the course I shall pursue. You will find no difficulty in this, as I know nothing about it myself.

“You will make the nobility and clergy understand that, if the interference of France be requisite in the affairs of Spain, their privileges and immunities shall be respected. You will assure them that the Emperor wishes for the improvement of the political institutions of Spain, in order to place her in a relative state to that of civilized Europe, and to deliver her from the administration of favouritism. You will tell the magistrates and the inhabitants of the towns and the enlightened classes, that the machine of the government needs reconstructing, that Spain wants a system of laws calculated for the protection of the people against the tyranny and usurpations of feudality, and of establishments which may revive industry, agriculture, and the arts. You will describe to them the state of tranquillity and ease enjoyed by France, notwithstanding the wars in which she has been constantly involved, and the splendour of religion, which owes its establishment to the Concordat I have signed with the Pope. You will explain to them the advantages which they may derive from political regeneration—order and peace at home, respect and influence abroad. Such should be the spirit of your conversation and your letters. Do not hazard any thing hastily. I can wait at Bayonne, I can cross the Pyrenees, and, strengthening myself towards Portugal, I can go and conduct the war in that quarter.

“I shall take care of your particular interests, do not think of them yourself. Portugal will be at my disposal. Let no powerful object engage you and influence your conduct; that would be injurious to me, and would be still more hurtful to yourself.

“You are too hasty in your instructions of the 14th; the march you order General Dupont to take is too rapid, on account of the event of the 19th of March. They must be altered; you will make new arrangements; you will receive instructions from my Minister for Foreign Affairs.

“I enjoin the maintenance of the strictest discipline; the slightest faults must not go unpunished. The inhabitants must be treated with the greatest attention. Above all, the churches and convents must be respected.

“The army must avoid all misunderstanding with the corps and detachments of the Spanish army; there must not be a single flash in the pan on either side.

“Let Solano march beyond Badajos, but watch his movements. Do you yourself trace out the marches of my army, that it may be always kept at a distance of several leagues from the Spanish corps. Should hostilities take place, all would be lost.

“The fate of Spain can alone be decided by political views and by negociation. I charge you to avoid all explanation with Solano, as well as with the other Spanish generals and governors. You will send me two expresses daily. In case of events of superior interest, you will despatch orderly officers. You will immediately send back the Chamberlain de T——, the bearer of this despatch, and give him a detailed report.

“I pray God, M. le Grand Duc de Berg, &c.

(Signed) "Napoleon.”

June 15th.—The weather was superb; we took an airing in our calash, and observed very near the shore a large vessel, which seemed to manœuvre in a singular manner. We took her from her appearance to be the Newcastle, which had been for some time expected to relieve the Northumberland; but she was only one of the Company’s ships.

During part of the day, the Emperor, after running over a great number of topics, came at length to mention several persons who, were they at liberty, he said, would join him at St. Helena, and he undertook to explain the motives by which they might be influenced. From this subject, he was led to touch upon the motives of those who were about him. “Bertrand,” said he, "is henceforth identified with my fate. It is an historical fact. Gourgaud was my first orderly officer, he is my own work, he is my child. Montholon is Semonville’s son, brother-in-law to Joubert, a child of the revolution and of camps. But you, my good friend," said he to the fourth, “you,” and after a moment’s thought, he resumed; “you, my good friend, let us know by what extraordinary chance you find yourself here?” The answer was, “Sire, by the influence of my happy stars, and for the honour of the emigrants.”

ARTICLES SENT FROM ENGLAND.—THE EMPEROR’s DETERMINATION TO PROHIBIT THE USE OF COTTON IN FRANCE.—THE CONFERENCES OF TILSIT.—THE QUEEN OF PRUSSIA.—THE KING.—THE EMPEROR ALEXANDER.—ANECDOTES, &C.

June 16th.—The weather was delightful; the Emperor entered my apartment about ten o’clock. I was employed in dressing myself, and also in dictating my Journal to my son. The Emperor cast his eye over it for a few instants, and said nothing; he left it to look at some drawings. They were topographical sketches, executed with the pen, of some of the battles in Italy, by my son, and we felt pleasure in reserving them as an agreeable surprise for the Emperor. We had, until then, been employed upon them in secret.

I followed the Emperor to the garden; he talked a great deal on the articles that had been just sent to us from England, and which chiefly consisted of furniture. He exposed the ill-grace and awkwardness of those who had been employed to deliver them to us. He observed that, in presenting even what would have been most agreeable to us, they found means to hurt our feelings. He was on that account determined not to make use of them, and he declined accepting two fowling-pieces, which were particularly intended for him. The Emperor breakfasted in the open air, and we were all invited to his table.

The conversation turning on fashions and dress, the Emperor said that, at one period, he had resolved to prohibit the use of cotton in France, for the more effectual encouragement of the lawn and cambric trade of our towns in Flanders. The Empress Josephine was shocked at the idea, which she decidedly opposed, and it was given up.

The Emperor was in a happy humour for conversation, and the weather was very mild and tolerably pleasant. He began walking in the kind of alley which runs perpendicularly in front of the house. The conversation turned on the celebrated epoch of Tilsit, and the following are the interesting particulars which I collected.

The Emperor remarked, that, had the Queen of Prussia arrived at the commencement of the negociations, she might have exercised considerable influence with respect to the result. Happily, she arrived when they were sufficiently advanced to enable the Emperor to decide upon their conclusion four-and-twenty hours afterwards. The King, it was thought, had prevented her early appearance, in consequence of a rising jealousy against a great personage, which was confidently stated, said the Emperor, “not to have been destitute of some slight ground.”

The moment of her arrival, the Emperor paid her a visit. “The Queen of Prussia,” said he, “had been very beautiful, but she was beginning to lose some of the charms of her youth.”

The Emperor declared, that the Queen received him like Mademoiselle Duchesnois in the character of Chimene, thrown back into a grand attitude, demanding, calling aloud for, justice. In short, it was altogether a theatrical scene: the representation was truly tragic. He was unable to speak for an instant, and thought the only way of extricating himself was that of bringing back the business to the tone of regular comedy, which he attempted by presenting her with a chair, and gently forcing her to be seated. She proceeded, nevertheless, in the most pathetic tone. “Prussia,” she exclaimed, “had been blinded with respect to her power;—she had dared to contend with a hero, to oppose herself to the destinies of France, to neglect his auspicious friendship; she was deservedly punished for it. The glory of the great Frederic, his memory, and his inheritance had puffed up the pride of Prussia, and had caused her ruin!” She solicited, supplicated, implored. Magdeburg, in particular, was the object of her efforts and wishes. The Emperor kept his ground as well as he could. Fortunately, the husband made his appearance. The Queen reproved, with an expressive look, the unseasonable interruption, and shewed some pettishness. In fact, the King attempted to take part in the conversation, spoiled the whole affair, “and I was,” said the Emperor, “set at liberty.”

The Emperor entertained the Queen at dinner. She played off, said he, all her wit against me; she had a great deal; all her manners, which were very fascinating; all her coquetry; she was not without charms. “But I was determined not to yield. I found it necessary, however, to keep a great command over myself, that I might continue exempt from all kind of engagement, and every expression, which might be taken in a doubtful sense, and the more so, because I was carefully watched, and particularly by Alexander.” Just before sitting down to dinner Napoleon took from a flower-stand a very beautiful rose, which he presented to the Queen. She at first expressed by the motion of her hand a kind of prepared refusal; but suddenly recollecting herself, she said; Yes, but at least with Magdeburg. The Emperor replied, “But ... I must observe to your Majesty, that it is I who present, and you, who are about to receive it.” The dinner and the remainder of the time passed over in that manner.

The Queen was seated at table between the two Emperors, who rivalled each other in gallantry. She was placed near Alexander’s best ear; with one he can scarcely hear at all. The evening came, and, the Queen having retired, the Emperor, who had shown the most engaging attentions to his guests, but, who had at the same time, been often driven to an extremity, resolved to come to a point. He sent for M. de Talleyrand, and Prince Kourakin, talked big to them, and letting fly, continued he, some hard words, observed, that, after all, a woman and a piece of gallantry ought not to alter a system conceived for the destiny of a great people, and that he insisted upon the immediate conclusion of the negociations, and the signing of the treaty; which took place according to his orders. “Thus,” said he, "the Queen of Prussia’s conversation advanced the treaty by a week or a fortnight."

The Queen was preparing to renew her attacks the next day, and was indignant when she heard that the treaty was signed. She wept a great deal, and determined to see the Emperor Napoleon no more. She would not accept a second invitation to dinner. Alexander was himself obliged to prevail upon her. She complained most bitterly, and maintained, that Napoleon had broken his word. But Alexander had been always present. He had even been a dangerous witness, ready to give evidence of the slightest action or word on the part of Napoleon in her favour. “He has made you no promise,” was his observation to her; “if you can prove the contrary, I here pledge myself, as between man and man, to make him keep his promise, and he will do so, I am convinced.”—"But he has given me to understand," said she, ... “No,” replied Alexander, “and you have nothing to reproach him with.” She came at length. Napoleon, who had no longer any occasion to be on his guard against her, redoubled his attentions. She played off, for a few moments, the airs of an offended coquette, and when the dinner was over, and she was about to retire, Napoleon presented his hand, and conducted her to the middle of the staircase, where he stopped. She squeezed his hand, and said with a kind of tenderness; “Is it possible, that after having had the honour of being so near to the hero of the century and of history, he will not leave me the power and satisfaction of being enabled to assure him, that he has attached me to him for life?”—"Madam," replied the Emperor in a serious tone, “I am to be pitied; it is the result of my unhappy stars.” He then took leave of her. When she reached her carriage, she threw herself into it in tears; sent for Duroc, whom she highly esteemed, renewed all her complaints to him, and said, pointing to the palace; “There is a place in which I have been cruelly deceived!”

“The Queen of Prussia,” said the Emperor, “was unquestionably gifted with many happy resources; she possessed a great deal of information and had many excellent capabilities. It was she who really reigned for more than fifteen years. She also, in spite of my dexterity and all my exertions, took the lead in conversation, and constantly maintained the ascendancy. She touched, perhaps, too often upon her favourite topic, but she did so, however, with great plausibility and without giving the slightest cause of uneasiness. It must be confessed that she had an important object in view, and that the time was short and precious.”

“One of the high contracting parties,” said the Emperor, “had frequently assured her, that she ought to have come in the beginning or not at all, and observed that, for his part, he had done every thing in his power to induce her to come at once. It was suspected,” continued the Emperor, “that he had a personal motive to gratify by her coming; but, on the other hand, the husband had a motive equally personal in opposing it.” Napoleon believed him to have been very kind and a sincere friend in the business.

“The king of Prussia,” said the Emperor, "had requested his audience of leave on that very day, but I postponed it for four-and-twenty hours, at the secret entreaty of Alexander. The king of Prussia never forgave me for putting off that audience; so clearly did it seem to him, that Royal Majesty was insulted by my refusal.

“Another heavy charge against me, and of which he has never been able to divest his feelings, was that of having violated, as he said, his territory of Anspach in our campaign of Austerlitz. In all our subsequent interviews, however important the subjects of our discussion, he laid them all aside for the purpose of proving that I had really violated his territory of Anspach. He was wrong; but in short, it was his conviction, and his resentment was that of an honest man. His wife, however, was vexed at it, and wished him to pursue a higher system of politics.”

Napoleon reproached himself with a real fault, in allowing the king of Prussia’s presence at Tilsit. His first determination was to prevent his coming. He would then have been less bound to shew any attention to his interests. He might have kept Silesia, he might have aggrandized Saxony with it, and have probably reserved for himself a different kind of destiny. He further remarked: “I learn, that the politicians of the present day find great fault with my treaty of Tilsit; they have discovered, that I had, by that means, placed Europe at the mercy of the Russians; but if I had succeeded at Moscow, and it is now known how very near I was, they would, no doubt, have admired us for having, on the contrary, by that treaty, placed the Russians at the mercy of Europe. I entertained great designs with respect to the Germans.... But I failed, and therefore I was wrong. This is according to every rule of justice....”

Almost every day, at Tilsit, the two Emperors and the King rode out on horseback together, but, said Napoleon, “the latter was always awkward and unlucky.” The Prussians were visibly mortified by it. Napoleon was constantly between the two sovereigns; but either the King fell behind, or jostled and incommoded Napoleon. He shewed the same awkwardness on their return: the two Emperors dismounted in an instant, and took each other by the hand to go up stairs together. But, as the honours were done by Napoleon, he could not enter without first seeing the King pass. It was sometimes necessary to wait for him a long time, and, as the weather was often rainy, it happened that the two Emperors got wet on the king’s account, to the great dissatisfaction of all the spectators.

“This awkwardness,” said the Emperor, “was the more glaring, as Alexander possesses all the graces, and is equal, in elegance of manners, to the most polished and amiable ornaments of our Parisian drawing-rooms. The latter was at times so tired of his companion, who seemed lost in his own vexations, or in something else, that we mutually agreed on breaking up our common meeting to get rid of him. We separated immediately after dinner, under the pretence of some particular business; but Alexander and I met shortly afterwards, to take tea with one another, and we then continued in conversation until midnight, and even beyond it.”

Alexander and Napoleon met again some time after at Erfurt, and exchanged the most striking testimonies of affection. Alexander expressed with earnestness the sentiments of tender friendship and real admiration which he entertained for Napoleon. They passed some days together in the enjoyment of the charms of perfect intimacy and of the most familiar communications of private life. “We were,” said the Emperor, “two young men of quality, who, in their common pleasures, had no secret from each other.”

Napoleon had sent for the most distinguished performers of the French Theatre. A celebrated actress, Mademoiselle B——, attracted the attention of his guest, who had a momentary fancy to get acquainted with her. He asked his companion whether any inconvenience was likely to be the result. “None,” answered the latter; “only,” added he, intentionally, “it is a certain and rapid mode of making yourself known to all Paris. After to-morrow, post-day, the most minute details will be dispatched, and in a short time, not a statuary at Paris but will be qualified to give a model of your person from head to foot.” The danger of such a kind of publicity appeased the monarch’s rising passion; “for,” observed Napoleon, “he was very circumspect with regard to that point, and he recollected no doubt the old adage, When the mask falls, the hero disappears.”

The Emperor assured us that, had it been his wish, Alexander would certainly have given him his sister in marriage; his politics would have dictated the match, even had his inclination been against it. He was petrified when he heard of the marriage with Austria, and exclaimed—"This consigns me to my native forests." If he seemed to shuffle at first, it was because some time was necessary to enable him to come to a decision. His sister was very young, and the consent of his mother was requisite. This was settled by Paul’s will, and the Empress-mother was one of Napoleon’s bitterest enemies. She believed all the absurdities, all the ridiculous stories, which had been circulated concerning him. “How,” she exclaimed, "can I give my daughter to a man who is unfit to be any woman’s husband? Shall another man take possession of my daughter’s bed, if it be necessary, that she should have children? She is not formed for such a fate."—"Mother," said Alexander, “can you be so credulous as to believe the calumnies of London and the insinuations of the saloons of Paris? If that be the only difficulty, if it be that alone which gives you pain, I answer for him, and many others have it in their power to answer for him with me.”

"If Alexander’s affection for me was sincere," said the Emperor, “it was alienated from me by the force of intrigue. Certain persons, M——, or others, at the instigation of T——, lost no seasonable opportunity of mentioning instances of my turning him into ridicule, and they assured him, that at Tilsit and Erfurt, he no sooner turned his back than I took the opportunity of laughing at his expense. Alexander is very susceptible, and they must have easily soured his mind. It is certain, that he made bitter complaints of it at Vienna during the congress, and yet nothing was more false; he pleased me, and I loved him.”

S——, one of Napoleon’s aides-de-camp, was sent immediately after the treaty of Tilsit to Alexander at Petersburg, and was loaded with favours. The efforts and liberality of Alexander were inexhaustible to render himself agreeable to his new ally.

This same aide-de-camp became afterwards minister of the police, and in 1814, soon after the restoration, he is said to have made a striking allusion to his mission in Russia. A person deeply in the confidence of the King, addressing him at the Tuileries, in a manner altogether careless and unreserved, said, “Now that all is over, you may speak out; pray, who was your agent at Hartwell?” (This was, as every one knows, the residence of Louis XVIII. in England.) S——, astonished at the want of delicacy evinced by M. de B——, answered with dignity:—"M. le Comte, the Emperor considered the asylum of kings as an inviolable sanctuary. It was a principle which he impressed upon his police and we adhered to it. We have since learnt, that the same conduct was not observed with respect to him. But you, Sir, should entertain less doubt upon the subject than any other person. When I arrived at Petersburg, you were there on the part of the king. The Emperor Alexander, in the first warmth of his reconciliation, acquainted me with every thing that concerned you, and asked me whether it was the wish of my government that you should be ordered to leave his dominions. I had received no instructions upon that head. I wrote for them to the Emperor. His answer was, by return of courier, that he was satisfied with the sincere friendship of Alexander; that he would never interfere in his private arrangements; that he entertained no personal hatred against the Bourbons; and that, if he believed it were possible for them to accept it, he would offer them an asylum in France, and any royal residence, which might be agreeable to them. If you were then ignorant of these instructions, you will, no doubt, find them among the papers of the foreign office."

ARRIVAL OF THE FOREIGN COMMISSIONERS.—FORCED ETIQUETTE OF NAPOLEON.—ANECDOTES.—COUNCIL OF STATE; DETAILS RESPECTING THE PLACE OF MEETING, CUSTOMS, &C.—NOTICE OF SOME SITTINGS; DIGRESSION.—GASSENDI.—THE CROAT REGIMENT.—AMBASSADORS.—THE NATIONAL GUARD.—THE UNIVERSITY, &C.

17th of June.—The Emperor went out early in the morning. He ordered his calash for the purpose of taking a ride before breakfast. When he was stepping into it, we were informed, that the Newcastle man of war and the Orontes frigate were tacking to enter the port. These two vessels had overshot the island in the night, and were obliged to work to windward. They sailed from England on the 23rd of April and brought the bill respecting the Emperor’s detention. The English legislature had sanctioned by law the determination of ministers on that subject. The Commissioners of Austria, France and Russia were on board these vessels.

In the course of the day, the Emperor, speaking of the forms and costumes which he had established, and of the etiquette which he had introduced, said,[said,] “I found it a very difficult thing to give myself up to my own inclinations. I started into public notice from the multitude. Necessity compelled me to observe a degree of state; to adopt a certain system of solemnity; in a word, to establish an etiquette. I should otherwise have been every day liable to be slapped upon the shoulder. In France, we are naturally inclined to a misplaced familiarity, and I had to guard myself particularly against those who had at once, without any preparatory study, become men of education. We become courtiers very easily; we are very obsequious in the outset, and addicted to flattery and adulation: but unless it be repressed, a certain familiarity soon takes place, which might with great facility be carried as far as influence. It is well known that our kings were not exempt from this inconvenience.” Here the Emperor alluded to a very characteristic anecdote of the time of Louis XIV.—that of the courtier, of the number of whose children that prince enquired at his levee. “Four, Sire,” was the reply. The king, having occasion to speak to him two or three times in public during the day, put precisely the same question to him, “Pray, Sir, how many children have you?” The answer was uniformly the same; “Four, Sire.” At length, as the King was at play in the evening, he repeated the usual question. “How many children have you?”—“Six, Sire.” “How[“How] the plague can that be?” said the king, “for if I recollect right, you told me you had but four.”—“Really, Sire, I was afraid of fatiguing you with the constant repetition of the same thing.”

"“Sire,” observed one of the company to the Emperor, "I can mention an anecdote of a neighbouring country, worthy of that which we have just heard, and which may enable us to compare the gratuitous insolence of an absolute monarch’s courtier with the open resentment of a man, who has nothing to fear from his constitutional sovereign.

"A person moving in the circles of high life in London, had to complain of a great personage, by whom he had been very ill-used, and pledged himself to his friends to have ostensible satisfaction. Having learnt that the great personage was to honour a very brilliant party with his presence, he attended himself at an early hour and placed himself near the lady of the house. The great personage had paid his respects to the lady, and, after the customary compliments, being about to join the rest of the company, he had scarcely turned round, before the offended person, leaning carelessly towards her, said, with a loud voice, “Who is your fat friend?” The lady reddened, touched him with her elbow, and whispered; "Hold your tongue, I beg, don’t you see it is the Prince?" The gentleman replied, in a higher tone than before;—"How, the Prince!—Well, upon my honour, he is grown as fat as a pig."

Every one is at liberty to decide upon the relative demerits of these two insolent characters. Both are, no doubt, very blameable, and if there be less coarseness in the conduct of our countryman, it must also be allowed, that his impertinence is altogether without an object and purely gratuitous.

During another part of the day, the Emperor conversed at great length on the sittings of the Council of State. I had pointed out some, and of others we had but a doubtful recollection; or they had altogether slipped our memory. “Well,”[“Well,”] said he, “in a short time, scarcely a trace of them will be left behind.” Being unable to sleep that night, I thought of these words, and endeavoured to recollect, as minutely as I could, every thing I was acquainted with respecting the Council of State;—the seat of its meetings, its usages, forms, &c.; and I do not think I can better[better] employ the leisure of our solitude at St. Helena, than by giving an account of them here. I shall occasionally add what I may recollect of the sittings at which I was present. There are persons to whom these details will not be destitute of interest.

The hall of the Council of State, in the Tuileries, the place where the sittings were usually held, was on the same side with, and of the entire length of, the chapel. In the partition wall were several large doors, which being thrown open on Sundays, formed passages to the chapel. It was a fine oblong apartment. At one of its extremities, towards the interior of the palace, was a large and beautiful door, by which the Emperor entered, when, attended by his Court, he proceeded on Sunday to hear mass. It was only opened the rest of the week for the Emperor, when he went to his Council of State. The members of the Council entered only by two small doors, contrived for that purpose in the opposite extremity.

A row of tables, which occupied the whole length of the hall, on the right and left, was arranged there only when the council assembled, and the space left was sufficient to admit of seats within near the wall, and of a free passage without. There sat the Councillors of State, in their respective order of precedence; their places were, besides, designated by portfolios, bearing their names, and containing their papers. At the extremity of the hall, towards the grand entrance, and across the two rows, were placed similar tables for the Masters of Requests. The Auditors were seated on stools or chairs, behind the Councillors of State.

At the upper extremity of the hall, opposite to the grand entrance, was the Emperor’s place on an elevation[elevation] of one or two steps. There was his arm chair, and a small table covered with a piece of rich tapestry, and furnished with all the necessary articles, with paper, pens, ink, penknives, and which were also laid before the Members of the Council.

At the right of the Emperor, but below, and on a level with us, was the Prince Arch-chancellor, with a separate small table; on his left, the Prince Arch-treasurer, who attended very seldom; and finally, at the left of the latter, M. Locre, who drew up the official account of the proceedings.

When any princes of the family happened to be present, a similar table was placed for them on the same line, and according to their respective rank. If any of the ministers were present, and they were all at liberty to attend whenever they pleased, they took their places at the side tables, at the head of the councillors of state. The enclosed space was vacant, and none ever passed through it, but the Emperor, or the Members of the Council, when proceeding to take the oath of allegiance to him.

The ushers moved silently about the hall, for the service of the members, even during the deliberations of the Council. The members left their places whenever they pleased, to obtain from their colleagues any particular documents of which they might be in want, or for any other purpose.

The upper compartments of the hall displayed allegorical paintings, relative to the functions of the Council of State, such as Justice, Commerce, Industry, &c. and the ceiling was decorated with the beautiful picture of the battle of Austerlitz, by Gros. Thus, under one of the most glorious laurels with which he ennobled France, did Napoleon preside over its internal administration.

It was in that place that for nearly eighteen months I enjoyed the inestimable advantage, the unparalleled satisfaction, of attending twice a week sittings so interesting by their special objects, and rendered still more so by the constant presence of the Emperor, who seemed to be the soul and life of the deliberations. It was there that I have seen him protract the discussions from eleven in the morning until nine at night, and display at the conclusion as much activity, copiousness, and freshness of mind and understanding as he did in the beginning, while we were ready to sink with weariness and fatigue.

While the court was at St. Cloud the council was held there, but when the sitting was to take place at too early an hour, or it was likely to last long, the Emperor adjourned the proceedings until the members could take some refreshment, which was served up in the adjacent apartment, on small tables most magnificently supplied, as if by enchantment. I may truly say, that it would be impossible to give a just idea of the fascinations we witnessed in every thing belonging to the Imperial palaces.

The hour of the Council’s sitting was regularly noticed in our letters of convocation, but the hour was generally eleven.

When a sufficient number of members was present, the Arch-Chancellor[note previously in text Arch-chancellor p2], who was always there the first, and who presided in the Emperor’s absence, opened the sitting, and called the attention of the Council to what was then called the little order of the day, and which solely embraced simple matters of a local nature and of mere form.

About an hour later, in general, the beating of the drum in the interior of the Palace announced the Emperor’s arrival. The grand entrance was thrown open; his Majesty was announced; all the Council rose, and the Emperor appeared, preceded by his Chamberlain and his Aide-de-Camp on duty, who presented his chair, received his hat, and continued behind him during the sitting, ready to receive and execute his orders.

The Arch-Chancellor then presented to the Emperor the great order of the day, which contained the series of objects under deliberation. The Emperor read them over, and pointed out in a distinct tone that which he wished to have discussed. The Councillor of State, nominated for the purpose, read his report, and the deliberations commenced.

Every member was at liberty to speak; if several rose at the same time, the order of precedence was regulated by the Emperor. The members spoke from their places sitting. No written speeches were allowed to be read; it was requisite that they should be made extemporaneously. When the Emperor thought the question, in which he usually took no inconsiderable share himself, sufficiently discussed, he made a summary of the arguments, which was always luminous, and frequently marked with novelty and point, came to a conclusion, and put it to the vote.

I have already noticed the freedom enjoyed in these debates. The animation of the speakers, increasing by degrees, became sometimes excessive, and the discussion was often protracted beyond measure, particularly when the Emperor, occupied probably with some other subject, seemed, either from distraction or something else, to be altogether ignorant of what was going on. He then commonly cast a vacant look over the hall, cut pencils with his penknife, pricked the cover of his table or the arm of his chair with the point of it, or employed his pencil or pen in scrawling whimsical marks or sketches, which, after he was gone, excited the covetous attention of the young members, who made a kind of scramble for them; and it was curious to observe, when he happened to have traced the name of some country or capital, the hyperbolical inferences that were sought to be extracted from it.

Sometimes too, when the Emperor entered the Council, as soon as his dinner was ended, and after having undergone great fatigue during the morning, he would fold his arms upon the table, lay down his head and fall asleep. The Arch-Chancellor proceeded with the deliberations, which were continued without interruption, and the Emperor, on awaking, immediately caught up the thread of the discussion, though the previous subject might have been ended and another introduced. The Emperor often asked for a glass of water and sugar; and a table in the adjoining room was always laid out with refreshments for his use, without any precautions being adopted as to the individuals who were permitted to approach it.

The Emperor, it is well known, was in the habit of taking snuff almost every minute: this was a sort of mania which seized him chiefly during intervals of abstraction. His snuff-box was speedily emptied; but he still continued to thrust his fingers into it, or to raise it to his nose, particularly when he was himself speaking. Those Chamberlains, who proved themselves most expert and assiduous in the discharge of their duties, would frequently endeavour, unobserved by the Emperor, to take away the empty box and substitute a full one in its stead; for there existed a great competition of attention and courtesy among the Chamberlains who were habitually employed in services about the Emperor’s person; an honour which was very much envied. These persons were, however, seldom changed, either because they intrigued to retain their places, or because it was naturally most agreeable to the Emperor to continue them in posts, with the duties of which they were acquainted. It was the business of the Grand Marshal (Duroc) to make all these arrangements. The following is an instance of the attentions paid by the Emperor’s Chamberlains. One of them, having observed that the Emperor on going to the theatre frequently forgot his opera-glass, of which he made constant use, got one made exactly like it, so that the first time he saw the Emperor without his glass, he presented his own to him, and the difference was not observed. On his return from the theatre, the Emperor was not a little surprised to find that he had two glasses exactly alike. Next day, he inquired how the new opera-glass had made its appearance, and the Chamberlain replied that it was one which he kept in reserve in case it might be wanted.

The Emperor always shewed himself very sensible of these attentions, which were innocent in themselves, and which were calculated to make an impression on the feelings, when dictated only by love and respect; for then the individual was not acting the part of a slavish courtier, but that of an affectionate and devoted servant. Napoleon, on his part, whatever may have been reported to the contrary in the saloons of Paris, shewed sincere regard for the persons of his household. When he quitted Paris for St. Cloud, Malmaison, or any other of his country residences, he usually invited the individuals of his household to his private evening parties; and thus was formed a pleasant family circle, admittance to which was held to be a very high honour. When in the country, he also admitted his Chamberlains to dine at his table. One day, while at dinner at Trianon, being troubled with a severe cold in his head, a complaint to which he was very subject, he found himself in want of a handkerchief; the servants immediately ran to fetch one, but meanwhile the Chamberlain on duty, who was a relation of Maria Louisa’s, drew a clean one unfolded from his pocket, and wished to take the other from the Emperor. “I thank you,” said Napoleon; “but I will never have it said that I allowed M—— to touch a handkerchief which I had used;” and he threw it on the ground.

Such was the man who in certain circles was described as being coarse and brutal, ill treating all his household, and even behaving rudely to the ladies of the palace! The Emperor, on the contrary, was a scrupulous observer of decorum. He was very sensible to all the little attentions he received; and though it was a sort of system with him to suffer no manifestation of gratitude to escape him, yet the expression of his eye or the tone of his voice sufficiently denoted what he really felt. Unlike those whose lips overflow with the expression of sentiments which their hearts never feel, Napoleon seemed to make it a rule to repress or disguise the kind emotions by which he was frequently inspired. I believe I have already mentioned this fact; but the following are some fresh proofs of it, which recur to me at this moment. These circumstances are the more characteristic, since they occurred at Longwood, where Napoleon might have been expected to indulge his natural feelings with less restraint than during the possession of his power.

I usually sat beside my son, while he wrote from the Emperor’s dictation. The Emperor always walked about the room when dictating, and he frequently stood for a moment behind my chair, to look over the writing, so that he might know where to take up the thread of his dictation. When in this situation, how many times has my head been enclosed between his arms, and even slightly pressed to his bosom! Then, immediately checking himself, he seemed to have been merely leaning with his elbows upon my shoulders, or playfully bearing all his weight upon me, as if to try my strength.

The Emperor was very fond of my son, and I have often seen him bestow a sort of manual caress on him; and then, as it were, to do away with the effect of this motion, he would immediately accompany it by some words uttered in a loud and somewhat sharp tone of voice. One day, as he was entering the drawing-room, in a moment of good-humour and forgetfulness, I saw him take Madame Bertrand’s hand and affectionately raise it to his lips; but, suddenly recollecting himself, he turned away, in a manner that would have had a very awkward effect, had not Madame Bertrand, with that exquisite grace for which she is so peculiarly distinguished, removed all embarrassment, by impressing a kiss on the hand that had been extended to her. But these stories have carried me very far from my subject. I must return to the Council of State.

All the reports, plans of resolutions, and decrees, which we had to discuss, were printed and distributed to us at our own houses. There was one subject, for example, relating to the University, which was perhaps twenty times drawn up. Others lingered for a length of time in the portfolios, or were at length totally dropped, without any cause being assigned.

On my return from my mission to Holland, just after I had been created a member of the Council of State, I rose to speak on the subject of the Conscription. I was naturally interested in all that related to naval affairs; my mind was full of enthusiasm, and was stored with the observations which I had just collected in Holland. I proposed that all the Dutch conscripts, in consideration of their natural predilections, should be permitted, if they chose, to enter the naval service; and moreover, that the privilege of this choice should be extended to all the French conscripts. I pointed out the inconveniences which such an arrangement was calculated to obviate, and developed the advantages which it was likely to ensure. I observed that it was impossible to render our seamen too numerous. Our ships’ crews, I said, would thus become regiments: the same men would at once be sailors and soldiers, gunners and pontooners; we should obtain double service at the same rate of pay. My speech had, up to this point, been as favourably received as I could wish: and in my own mind I congratulated myself on my success; when on a sudden I lost all power of utterance. The train of my ideas immediately became disconnected, and I stood mute and confounded, without knowing where I was or what I was doing. This was the first time I had ventured to speak; and I had made an extraordinary effort to surmount my natural diffidence. Profound silence reigned in the assembly, a hundred eyes were fixed upon me, and I was ready to sink under the weight of my embarrassment. I had no alternative but to confess my painful situation, to tell the Emperor, frankly, that I would rather be in a battle; and finally to ask permission to conclude my address by reading a few lines from a written paper which I had brought with me. From that moment, however, I never felt any wish to speak in the Council of State; I was completely cured of all desire to exert my eloquence in future. But, in spite of this unfortunate circumstance, my brief address had attracted the notice of the Emperor; for, a few days afterwards, the Aid-de-Camp on duty (Count Bertrand), informed me that the Emperor, while playing at billiards, seeing the Minister of the Marine enter, said to him:—"Well, Sir, Las Cases read to us, at the Council, a very good memorial on the composition of the navy; he was not at all of your opinion respecting the age at which seamen should be allowed to enter the service."

Every sitting of the Council, at which the Emperor presided, presented the highest degree of interest, for he never failed to deliver a speech himself, and all the observations that fell from him were important. I was always delighted with his speeches: but a circumstance that both surprised and vexed me was to hear some of the remarks which had fallen from the Emperor in the course of the day at the Council of State, repeated and often ill-naturedly perverted in the saloons of Paris in the evening. How could this happen? Was it owing to the inaccuracy of the individual who had reported what he heard, or to the malignity of him to whom it had been reported? Be this as it may, the fact was as I have stated.

I often entertained the idea of writing out the speeches which I had heard the Emperor deliver, and I now very deeply regret having neglected to do so. The following are a few reminiscences which occur to me at this moment:

One day, the Emperor, speaking on the political rights which it was proper to concede to persons of French origin born in foreign countries, said, “The noblest title in the world is that of being born a Frenchman; it is a title conferred by Heaven, and which no individual on earth should have the power to withdraw. For my part, I wish that every man of French origin, though he were a foreigner in the tenth generation, should still be a Frenchman, if he wishes to claim the title. Were he to present himself on the other bank of the Rhine, saying, I wish to be a Frenchman, I would have his voice to be more powerful than the law; the barriers should fall before him, and he should return triumphant to the bosom of our common mother.”

On another occasion, he said, though I do not now recollect on what subject he was speaking: “The Constituent Assembly acted very unwisely in abolishing purely titular nobility; a measure which was calculated to humble so many individuals. I do better. I confer on all Frenchmen titles, of which every one has reason to be proud.”

At another time, he used the following words, which perhaps, I have already quoted:—"I wish to raise the glory of the French name to such a pitch as to make it the envy of all nations. I will, with God’s help, bring it to pass, that in whatever part of Europe a Frenchman may travel, he shall always find himself at home."

In the Council of State a discussion once arose respecting[respecting] the plan of a decree. The result of this discussion has now escaped my recollection, but I know the subject was to determine that the kings of the Imperial Families, occupying foreign thrones, should leave their titles and all the etiquette of royalty on the frontier, and only resume them on quitting France. The Emperor replying to some one who had started objections to this, and at the same time explaining the motives for the measure, said: “But for these monarchs I reserve in France a still higher title; they shall be more than kings: they shall be French Princes.”

I might multiply quotations of this kind to an endless length: they must be engraven in the recollection of all the members of the Council, as well as in mine. It will perhaps be a matter of surprise that, having seen the Emperor so frequently, and having heard him deliver sentiments such as these, I should have said, I did not know him at the period when I followed him to St. Helena. My answer is that at that time I felt, with regard to the Emperor, more of admiration and enthusiasm than of real love, arising from an intimate knowledge of his character. Even in the palace, we were assailed by so many absurd reports respecting the private character and conduct of Napoleon, and we had so little direct communication with him, that, by dint of hearing the same stories repeated over and over, I imbibed, in spite of myself, a certain degree of doubt and distrust. He was described to be of a dissembling and cunning disposition, and it was affirmed that he could, when in public, make a parade of fine sentiment, which he was totally incapable of feeling; in short, that he possessed an eloquent tongue and an insensible heart. Thus it was not until I became thoroughly acquainted with his character that I was convinced how really and truly he was what he appeared to be. Never perhaps was any man in the world so devotedly attached to France, and there was no sacrifice which he would not readily have made to preserve her glory. This is sufficiently evident from his conduct at Chatillon, and after his return from Waterloo. He expressed himself truly and energetically on his rock, when he used these remarkable words, which I have before quoted: “No, my real sufferings are not here!”

The following anecdotes have reference to other subjects, partly grave and partly humourous. One day the Councillor of State, General Gassendi, taking part in the discussion of the moment, dwelt much upon the doctrines of economists. The Emperor, who was much attached to his old artillery comrade, stopped him, saying: “My dear General, where did you gain all this knowledge? Where did you imbibe these principles?” Gassendi, who very seldom spoke in the Council, after defending himself in the best way he could, finding himself driven into his last entrenchments, replied that he had, after all, borrowed his opinions from Napoleon himself. “How?” exclaimed the Emperor, with warmth, “What do you say? Is it possible? From me, who have always thought that if there existed a monarchy of granite, the chimeras of political economists would reduce it to powder!” And after some other remarks, partly ironical and partly serious, he concluded;—"Go, General! you must have fallen asleep in your office, and have dreamed all this." Gassendi, who was rather irascible, replied, “Oh! as for falling asleep in our offices, Sire, I defy any one to do that with you, you plague us too much for that.” All the Council burst into a fit of laughter, and the Emperor laughed louder than any one.

Another time a question arose respecting the organization of the Illyrian provinces, just after they had fallen into the power of France. Those provinces, bordering on Turkey, were occupied by regiments of Croatian troops, organized on a peculiar plan. They were, in short, military colonies, the idea of which was conceived upwards of a century ago by the great Prince Eugene, for the purpose of establishing a barrier against the incursions and ravages of the Turks, and had well fulfilled the purpose for which they were destined. The committee appointed to draw up a plan for the organization of the Provinces, proposed that the Croatian regiments should be disbanded, and replaced by a national guard similar to ours. “Are you mad?” exclaimed the Emperor, on hearing the report read; “are the Croatians Frenchmen? or have you understood the excellence, utility, and importance of the institution?”—"Sire," replied the person, who conceived himself bound to defend the report, “the Turks will not now venture to resume their transgressions.”—"And why not?"—"Sire, because your majesty is become their neighbour."—"Well, and what of that?"—"Sire, they will be too much awed by your power."—"Oh yes, Sire, Sire," replied the Emperor sharply, “a truce to compliments at present, or, if you like, go and present them to the Turks, who will answer you by a discharge of musquetry, and you can return and give me an account of the affair.” The Emperor immediately decided that the Croatian regiments should be preserved.

One day, the plan of a decree respecting ambassadors was submitted to the consideration of the Council of State. This plan, though very remarkable, was, I believe, never published to the world. The coolness which the Council evinced on this subject caused the matter to be dropped; many other plans also experienced the same fate; which, it may be observed, affords an additional proof of the independence of the Council, and shews that Napoleon possessed more moderation than is generally believed.

The Emperor, who appeared to be the only individual to support the decree, and who adhered to it very firmly, made some very curious remarks in its defence. He wished that ambassadors should enjoy no prerogatives or privileges which might place them above the laws of the country. At most, he was only willing to grant that they should be subject to a higher kind of jurisdiction. “For example,” said he, "I have no objection that they should be brought to trial only after a preliminary decision of an assemblage of the ministers and high dignitaries of the empire; that they should be tried only by a special tribunal, composed of the first magistrates and functionaries of the state. It will perhaps be said that sovereigns, finding their own dignity compromised in the persons of their representatives, will not send ambassadors to my Court. Well, where will be the harm of that? I can withdraw mine from foreign Courts, and thus the country will be relieved from the burden of enormous and very frequently useless salaries. Why should ambassadors be exempt from the law? They are sent with the view of being agreeable, and for the purpose of maintaining an interchange of friendship and favour between their respective sovereigns. If they overstep the limits of their duty they should be reduced to the class of common offenders, and placed within the pale of the general law. I cannot tacitly permit ambassadors at my Court to act the part of hired spies: if I do, I must be content to be regarded as a fool, and to submit to all the mischief to which I may be exposed. It is only necessary to have the matter well understood before-hand, so as to obviate the impropriety of violating received customs, and what has hitherto been regarded as the law of nations.

“During the height of a celebrated crisis,” continued the Emperor, “I received information that a great personage had taken refuge in the house of M. de Cobentzel, conceiving that he should be protected under the immunities of the Austrian ambassador. I summoned the ambassador to my presence, in order to enquire into the truth of the fact, and to inform him that it would be most unfortunate if it were really such as it had been reported to me. I observed that custom would be nothing in my eyes when compared with the safety of a nation; and that I would without hesitation order the arrest of the criminal and his privileged protector, deliver them both up to a tribunal, and subject them to the full penalties of the law. And this I would have done, gentlemen,” added he, raising his voice. “The ambassador was aware of my determination, and therefore my wishes were obeyed without further opposition.”

Long before the expedition to Russia, perhaps a year or two before it was undertaken, the Emperor wished to establish a military classification of the Empire. At the Council of State, there were read fifteen or twenty plans for the organization of the three classes of the French national guard. The first, which was to consist of young men, was to march as far as the frontiers; the second, which was to be composed of middle-aged and married men, was not to quit the department to which it belonged; and the third, consisting of men in years, was to be kept solely for the defence of the town in which it had been raised. The Emperor, who was well convinced of the utility of this plan, frequently recurred to it, and made many patriotic remarks on the subject; but it constantly received marked disapproval from the Council, and experienced a kind of passive and silent opposition. Meanwhile, amidst the multitude of public affairs which claimed the attention of the Emperor, he lost sight of this plan, which his foresight had doubtless calculated for the safety of France, and which was likely to have ensured that result. Upwards of two millions of men would have been classed and armed at the period of our disasters. Who then would have ventured to assail us?

During a discussion on the above subject, the Emperor spoke in a very emphatic and remarkable strain. A member (M. Malouet), in a very circumlocutory style, expressed his disapproval of this plan of organization. The Emperor addressing him in his usual way, said: “Speak boldly, sir, do not mutilate your ideas: say what you have to say, freely; we are here by ourselves.” The speaker then declared “that the measure was calculated to excite general alarm; that every one trembled to find himself classed in the national guard, being persuaded that, under the pretext of internal defence, the object was to remove the guard from the country.” “Very good!” said the Emperor, “I now understand you. But, gentlemen,” continued he, addressing himself to the members of the Council, "you are all fathers of families, possessing ample fortunes, and filling important posts, you must necessarily have numerous dependents; and you must either be very awkward, or very indifferent, if, with all these advantages, you do not exercise a great influence on public opinion. Now, how happens it that you, who know me so well, should suffer me to be so little known by others? When did you ever know me to employ deception and fraud in my system of government? I am not timid, and I therefore am not accustomed to resort to indirect measures. My fault is, perhaps, to express myself too abruptly, too laconically. I merely pronounce the word, I order, and, with regard to forms and details, I trust to the intermediate agent who executes my intentions; and heaven knows, whether, on this point, I have any great reason to congratulate myself. If, therefore, I wanted troops, I should boldly demand them of the Senate, who would levy them for me; or if I could not obtain them from the Senate, I should address myself to the people, and you would see them eagerly march to join my ranks. Perhaps you are astonished to hear me say this, for sometimes you appear not to have a correct idea of the real state of things. Know, then, that, my popularity is immense, and incalculable; for, whatever may be alleged to the contrary, the whole of the French people love and respect me: their good sense is superior to the malignant reports of my enemies and the metaphysical speculations of fools. They would follow me in defiance of all. You are surprised at these declarations, but they are nevertheless true. The French people know no benefactor but me. Through me they fearlessly enjoy all that they have acquired; through me they behold their brothers and sons indiscriminately promoted, honoured, and enriched; through me they find their hands constantly employed, and their labour accompanied by its due reward. They have never had reason to accuse me of injustice or prepossession. Now, the people see, feel and comprehend all this; but they understand nothing of metaphysics. Not that I am inclined to repel true and great principles; heaven forbid that I should. On the contrary, I act upon them as much as our present extraordinary circumstances will permit; but I only mean to say, that the people do not yet understand them; while they perfectly understand me, and place implicit trust in me. Be assured, then, that the people of France will always conform to the plans which we propose for their welfare.

“Do not allow yourselves to be deceived by the supposed opposition which has just been alluded to; it exists only in the saloons of Paris, and by no means in the great body of the nation. In this plan, I solemnly declare I have no ulterior view of sending the national guard abroad; my thoughts, at this moment, are solely occupied in adopting measures at home, for the safety, repose, and stability of France. Proceed then to organize the national guard; that each citizen may know his post in the hour of need; that even M. Cambaceres, yonder, may shoulder a musket, should our danger require him so to do. We shall thus have a nation built of stone and mortar, capable of resisting the attacks both of time and men. I will moreover raise the national guard to a level with the regiments of the line: the old retired officers shall be the chiefs and the fathers of the corps. I shall have promotion in the national guard solicited as ardently as Court favours.”

All this must be contained in the registers of M. Locré, partly in discussions relative to the national guard, and partly, as well as I can recollect, on the subject of one of the annual conscriptions. I remember that one day, in particular, there was a long debate respecting the University. The Emperor had expressed himself dissatisfied with the little advancement that was observable in the institution, and the bad system on which it was conducted. M. Segur was directed to present a report on this subject, which he did with his usual candour and sincerity. He set on foot the necessary inquiries, and found that the Emperor’s plans were ill understood and badly executed. Napoleon had wished that erudition should be only a secondary object, that national principles and doctrines should take place of every thing; and yet these principles and doctrines were the subjects to which least attention was paid.

The Emperor was not present at this sitting—a circumstance which very much mortified the friends of the person principally interested in the question. We were guilty of sacrificing too much to the spirit of coteries. The report was never again brought forward; it was withdrawn from our portfolios, and it was made a point of some importance to get it returned from those members of the Council who had carried it home with them.

However, some time after this, the great dignitaries of the University were summoned to the bar of the Council of State. The Emperor expressed his displeasure at the bad management and the bad spirit which seemed to preside over this important institution. He observed that all his intentions were frustrated, that his plans were never properly carried into effect, &c. M. de F—— bent before the storm, and nevertheless pursued his accustomed course. The Emperor said, on his return from the Island of Elba, that he had been assured that the Grand Master of the University had made a boast to the government, which succeeded the Empire, of having done all in his power to thwart and misdirect the impulse which Napoleon wished to impart to the rising generation.