OFFICIAL DOCUMENT.
“General,—I have received the treaty of the 2d of August, 1815, concluded between his Britannic Majesty, the Emperor of Austria, the Emperor of Russia, and the King of Prussia, which was annexed to your letter of the 23d of July.
“The Emperor Napoleon protests against the purport of that treaty; he is not the prisoner of England. After having placed his abdication in the hands of the representatives of the nation, for the benefit of the constitution adopted by the French people, and in favour of his son, he proceeded voluntarily and freely to England, for the purpose of residing there, as a private person, in retirement, under the protection of the British laws. The violation of all laws cannot constitute a right in fact. The person of the Emperor Napoleon is in the power of England; but neither, as a matter of fact, nor of right, has it been, nor is it, at present, in the power of Austria, Russia, and Prussia; even according to the laws and customs of England, which has never included, in its exchange of prisoners, Russians, Austrians, Prussians, Spaniards, or Portuguese, although united to these powers by treaties of alliance, and making war conjointly with them. The Convention of the 2d of August, made fifteen days after the Emperor Napoleon had arrived in England, cannot, as a matter of right have any effect; it merely presents the spectacle of the coalition of the four principal powers of Europe, for the oppression of a single man; a coalition which the opinion of all nations disavows, as do all the principles of sound[sound] morality. The Emperors of Austria and Russia, and the King of Prussia, not possessing, either in fact or by right any power over the person of the Emperor Napoleon, were incapable of enacting any thing with regard to him. If the Emperor Napoleon had been in the power of the Emperor of Austria, that prince would have remembered the relations formed by religion and nature between a father and a son, relations which are never violated with impunity. He would have remembered that four times Napoleon re-established him on his throne; at Leoben, in 1797, and at Luneville in 1801, when his armies were under the walls of Vienna; at Presburgh in 1806, and at Vienna in 1809, when his armies were in possession of the capital and of three-fourths of the monarchy. That prince would have remembered the protestations which he made to him at the bivouac in Moravia in 1806, and at the interview at Dresden in 1812. If the person of the Emperor Napoleon had been in the power of the Emperor Alexander, he would have remembered the ties of friendship, contracted at Tilsit, at Erfurth, and during twelve years of daily intercourse; he would have remembered the conduct of the Emperor Napoleon the day after the battle of Austerlitz, when, having it in his power to take him prisoner with the remains of his army, he contented himself with his word, and suffered him to effect his retreat; he would have remembered the dangers to which the Emperor Napoleon personally exposed himself to extinguish the fire of Moscow and preserve that capital for him: unquestionably that prince would not have violated the duties of friendship and gratitude towards a friend in distress. If the person of the Emperor Napoleon had been even in power of the King of Prussia, that sovereign would not have forgotten that it was optional with the Emperor, after the battle of Friedland, to place another prince on the throne of Berlin; he would not have forgotten, in the presence of a disarmed enemy, the protestations of attachment and the sentiments which he expressed to him in 1812, at the interviews at Dresden. It is, accordingly, evident from the 2d and 5th articles of the said treaty, that, being incapable of any influence whatever over the fate, and the person of the Emperor Napoleon, who is not in their power, these princes refer themselves in that respect to the future conduct of his Britannic Majesty, who undertakes to fulfil all obligations.
“These princes have reproached the Emperor Napoleon with preferring the protection of the English laws to theirs. The false ideas which the Emperor Napoleon entertained of the liberality of the English laws, and of the influence of a great, generous, and free people on its government, decided him in preferring the protection of these laws to that of his father-in-law, or of his old friend. The Emperor Napoleon always would have been able to obtain the security of what related personally to himself, whether by placing himself again at the head of the army of the Loire, or by putting himself at the head of the army of the Gironde, commanded by General Clausel; but, looking for the future only to retirement and to the protection of the laws of a free nation, either English or American, all stipulations appeared useless to him. He thought that the English people would have been more bound by his frank conduct, which was noble and full of confidence, than it could have been by the most solemn treaties. He has been mistaken, but this error will for ever excite the indignation of real Britons, and, with the present as well as future generations, it will be a proof of the perfidy of the English administration. Austrian and Russian commissioners are arrived at St. Helena; if the object of their mission be to fulfil part of the duties, which the Emperors of Austria and Russia have contracted by the treaty of the 2d of August, and to take care, that the English agents, in a small colony, in the midst of the Ocean, do not fail in the attentions due to a prince connected with them by the ties of affinity, and by so many relations, the characteristics of these two sovereigns will be recognized in that measure. But you, Sir, have asserted, that these commissioners possessed neither the right nor the power of giving any opinion on whatever may be transacted on this rock.
“The English ministry have caused the Emperor Napoleon to be transported to Saint Helena, two thousand leagues from Europe. This rock, situated under the tropic at the distance of five hundred leagues from any continent is, in that latitude, exposed to a devouring heat; it is, during three-fourths of the year, covered with clouds and mists; it is at once the driest and wettest country in the world. This is the most inimical climate to the Emperor’s health. It is hatred which dictated the selection of this residence, as well as the instructions, given by the English ministry to the officers who command in this country; they have been ordered to call the Emperor Napoleon, General, being desirous of compelling him to acknowledge that he never reigned in France, which decided him not to take an incognito title, as he had determined on quitting France. First magistrate for life, under the title of first consul, he concluded the preliminaries of London and the treaty of Amiens with the king of Great Britain. He received as ambassadors, Lord Cornwallis, Mr. Merry, and Lord Whitworth, who resided in that quality at his court. He sent to the King of England, Count Otto and General Andreossi, who resided as ambassadors at the Court of Windsor. When, after the exchange of letters between the ministers for foreign affairs belonging to the two monarchies, Lord Lauderdale came to Paris, provided with full powers from the King of England, he treated with the plenipotentiaries provided with full powers from the Emperor Napoleon, and resided several months at the court of the Tuileries. When, afterwards, at Chatillon, Lord Castlereagh signed the ultimatum, which the allied powers presented to the plenipotentiaries of the Emperor Napoleon, he thereby recognized the fourth dynasty. That ultimatum was more advantageous than the treaty of Paris; but France was required to renounce Belgium and the left bank of the Rhine, which was contrary to the propositions of Frankfort and to the proclamations of the allied powers; and was also contrary to the oath by which, at his consecration, the Emperor had sworn the integrity of the empire. The Emperor then thought these national limits were necessary to the security of France as well as to the equilibrium of Europe; he thought that the French nation, in the circumstances under which it found itself, ought rather to risk every chance of war than to give them up. France would have obtained that integrity, and with it preserved her honour, had not treason contributed to the success of the allies. The treaty of the 2d of August, and the bill of the British parliament, style the Emperor, Napoleon Bonaparte, and give him only the title of General. The title of General Bonaparte is, no doubt, eminently glorious; the Emperor bore it at Lodi, at Castiglione, at[at] Rivoli, at Arcole, at Leoben, at the Pyramids, at Aboukir: but for seventeen years he has borne that of First Consul and of Emperor; it would be an admission that he has been neither first magistrate of the republic, nor sovereign of the fourth dynasty. Those, who think that nations are flocks, which, by divine right, belong to some families, are neither of the present age, nor of the spirit of the English legislature, which has several times changed the succession of its dynasties, because the great alterations occasioned by opinions, in which the reigning princes did not participate, had made them enemies to the happiness of the great majority of that nation. For kings are but hereditary magistrates, who exist but for the happiness of nations, and not nations for the satisfaction of kings. It is the same spirit of hatred, which directed that the Emperor Napoleon should not write or receive any letter, without its being opened and read by the English ministers and the officers of St. Helena. He has, by that regulation, been interdicted the possibility of receiving intelligence from his mother, his wife, his son, his brothers; and when, wishing to avoid the inconvenience of having his letters read by inferior officers, he wished to send sealed letters to the Prince Regent, he was told, that open letters only could be taken charge of and conveyed, and that such were the instructions of the ministry. That measure stands in need of no comment; it will suggest strange ideas of the spirit of the administration by which it was dictated; it would be disclaimed even at Algiers! Letters have been received for general officers in the Emperor’s suite; they were opened and delivered to you; you have retained them, because they had not been transmitted through the medium of the English ministry; it was found necessary to make them travel four thousand leagues over again, and these officers had the misfortune to know, that there[there] existed on this rock news from their wives, their mothers, and their children, and that they could not be put in possession of it, in less than six months!!!—The heart revolts.
“Permission[“Permission] could not be obtained to subscribe to the Morning Chronicle, to the Morning Post, or to some French journals: some broken numbers of the Times have been occasionally sent to Longwood. In consequence[consequence] of the demand made on board the Northumberland, some books have been sent, but all those which relate to the transactions of late years have been carefully kept back. It was since intended to open a correspondence with a London bookseller for the purpose of being directly supplied with books which might be wanted, and with those relative to the events of the day; that intention was frustrated. An English author, having published at London an account of his travels in France, took the trouble to send it as a present to the Emperor, but you did not think yourself authorized to deliver it to him, because it had not reached you through the channel of your government. It is also said, that other books, sent by their authors, have not been delivered, because the address of some was—To the Emperor Napoleon, and of others—To Napoleon the Great. The English ministry are not authorized to order any of these vexations. The law, however unjust, considers the Emperor Napoleon as a prisoner of war; but prisoners of war have never been prohibited from subscribing to the journals, or receiving books that are printed; such a prohibition is exercised only in the dungeons of the Inquisition.
“The island of St. Helena is ten leagues in circumference; it is every where inaccessible; the coast is guarded by brigs; posts within sight of each other are placed on the shore; and all communication with the sea is rendered impracticable. There is but one small town, James Town, where the vessels anchor, and from which they sail. In order to prevent the escape of an individual, it is sufficient to guard the coast by land and sea. By interdicting the interior of the island, one object only can be in view, that of preventing a ride of eight or ten miles, which it would be possible to take on horseback, and the privation of which, according to the consultations of medical men, is abridging the Emperor’s days.
“The Emperor has been placed at Longwood, which is exposed to every wind; a barren spot, uninhabited, without water, and incapable of any kind of cultivation. The space contains about 1200 uncultivated fathoms. At the distance of 11 or 1200 fathoms, a camp has been formed on a small eminence; another has been since placed nearly at the same distance in an opposite direction, so that, in the intense heat of the tropic, whichever way the eye turns nothing is seen but camps. Admiral Malcolm, perceiving the utility of which a tent would be to the Emperor in that situation, has had one pitched by his seamen at the distance of twenty paces from the house; it is the only spot in which shade is to be found. The Emperor, has, however, every reason to be satisfied with the spirit which animates the officers and soldiers of the gallant 53d, as he had been with the crew of the Northumberland. Longwood House was built for a barn to the company’s farm; some apartments were afterwards made in it by the Deputy-Governor of the island; he used it for a country-house; but it was, in no respect, adapted for a residence. During the year that it has been inhabited, people have always been at work in it, and the Emperor has been constantly exposed to the inconvenience and unwholesomeness of a house, in which workmen are employed. His bedchamber is too small to contain a bedstead of ordinary size; but every kind of building at Longwood would prolong the inconvenience arising from the workmen. There are, however, in this wretched island, some beautiful situations, with fine trees, gardens, and tolerably good houses, among others Plantation House; but you are prevented by the positive instructions of the ministry from granting this house, which would have saved a great deal of expense laid out in building, at Longwood, huts covered with pitched paper, which are no longer of any use. You have prohibited every kind of intercourse between us and the inhabitants of the island; you have, in fact, converted Longwood House into a secret prison; you have even thrown difficulties in the way of our communication with the officers of the garrison. The most anxious care would seem to be taken to deprive us of the few resources afforded by this miserable country, and we are no better off here than we should be on Ascension Rock. During the four months you have been at St. Helena, you have, Sir, rendered the Emperor’s condition worse. It was observed to you by Count Bertrand, that you violated the law of your legislature, that you trampled upon the privileges of general officers, prisoners of war. You answered, that you knew nothing but the letter of your instructions, and that they were still worse than your conduct appeared to us.
I have the honour, &c.
(Signed) Count de Montholon.
“P.S.—I had, Sir, signed this letter, when I received yours of the 17th, to which you annex the estimate of an annual sum of 20,000l. sterling, which you consider indispensable to meet the expenses of the establishment of Longwood, after having made all the reductions which you have thought possible. The consideration of this estimate can, in no respect, concern us; the Emperor’s table is scarcely supplied with what is necessary; all the provisions are of bad quality and four times as dear as at Paris. You require a fund of twelve thousand pounds sterling from the Emperor, as your government allows you only eight thousand pounds for all these expenses. I have had the honour of telling you, that the Emperor had no funds; that no letter had been received or written for a year; and that he was altogether unacquainted with what is passing or what may have passed in Europe. Transported by violence to this rock, at the distance of two thousand leagues, without being able to receive or to write any letter, he now finds himself at the discretion of the English agents. The Emperor has uniformly desired and still desires to provide himself for all his expenses of every kind, and he will do so, as speedily as you shall give possibility to the means, by taking off the prohibition, laid upon the merchants of the island, of carrying on his correspondence, and releasing it from all kind of inquisition on your part or on that of any of your agents. The moment the Emperor’s wants shall be known in Europe, the persons who interest themselves for him will transmit the necessary funds for his supplies.
“The letter of Lord Bathurst, which you have communicated to me, gives rise to strange ideas! Can your ministers then be so ignorant as not to know that the spectacle of a great man struggling with adversity is the most sublime of spectacles? Can they be ignorant, that Napoleon at St. Helena, amidst persecutions of every kind, against which his serenity is his only shield, is greater, more sacred, more venerable than on the first throne of the world, where he was, so long, the arbiter of Kings? Those, who[who] fail in respect to Napoleon, thus situated, merely degrade their own character and the nation which they represent!”
MY ENGLISH FAMILY.—JUST DEBT OF GRATITUDE TO THE ENGLISH ON THE PART OF THE EMIGRANTS, &C.—GENERAL JOUBERT.—PETERSBURG.—MOSCOW; THE CONFLAGRATION.—PROJECTS OF NAPOLEON, HAD HE RETURNED VICTORIOUS.
24th.—I went, at two o’clock, to the Emperor, in his apartment. He had sent for my Atlas in the morning. I found him finishing his examination of the map of Russia and of that part of America adjoining the Russian establishments.
He had suffered, and coughed a great deal, during the night. The weather had, however, become milder. While he was dressing to go out, he often dwelt upon the happy idea of the Atlas, the merit of its execution, and the immensity of its contents. He concluded, as usual, with saying; “What a collection! what details! How complete in all its parts!”
The Emperor went to the garden. I told him, that I had written, in the morning, to England, and answered the letter which I had read to him two or three days ago. “Your English family,” he then observed, “seem to be very good kind of people; they are very fond of you, and you appear very much attached to them.” I answered; “Sire, I took care of them in France, during their ten years captivity, and they had taken care of me in England, during my ten years emigration. It is altogether the hospitality of the ancients which we exercise towards each other. I rely upon them, in every respect, and they are at liberty to dispose of all I possess.”—“This,” said he, “is[“is] a very happy connexion. How did you obtain it? To what are you indebted for it?” I then told him how I became acquainted with this family.
“Never was the plank, by the assistance of which an unfortunate person, after shipwreck, preserved his life, dearer to him than this family is to me. There are, Sire, no favours, no treasures, which can compensate the kindnesses I have received from it, and the happiness it has conferred upon me.
“When the horrible excesses of our revolution compelled us to take refuge in England, our emigration produced the liveliest sensation in that country; the arrival of so many illustrious exiles, their past fortunes, and their then forlorn condition, were impressed on every mind, and filled every heart. They became the subject of consideration in political assemblies, in places of divine worship, in fashionable circles, and in private families. That catastrophe agitated every class, and excited every sympathy. We were surrounded by a generous and feeling multitude. We were the objects of the most delicate attentions, and of the most substantial favours. Such, it must be acknowledged, was the affecting sight held out by a vast portion of English society, even in spite of the difference of opinions. It is a testimony due from our gratitude to the truth of history.
“I was then in London, with a cousin of my name, whose situation at the court of Versailles had enabled her to be of some service to the most distinguished persons in Europe, where she was a lady of honour to the Princess Lamballe, who was herself sub-intendant of the Queen’s household. That turned out a fortunate circumstance for our family. My cousin experienced proofs of the greatest benevolence; a great number of persons were eager to make a tender of their services, and, among others, a certain young couple. The wife was charming, and distinguished for the elegance and dignity of her manners; the husband was of an easy temper, of a mild and honourable character. Their house was almost instantly open to my cousin and to all her relations, who had every reason to find themselves as much at their ease there, as if they had been in their own families.
“This worthy couple took every occasion to oblige and to be of use to our refugees. Their house was frequented by the most distinguished emigrants. A great number of us there contracted a debt of gratitude which, notwithstanding all its extent, I should not despair of paying, were I alone left to discharge it. I shall leave it as a legacy to my children, who, if they resemble me, will look upon it as sacred, and deem themselves happy in redeeming the obligation.
“Elevation of soul, and the emotions of a French heart, characterized the conduct of Lady .... When the Prince of Condé (arrived in London,) was looking for a country residence, she sent me to offer him the superb mansion which she possessed, in the county of Durham. The Prince, after hearing the particulars, having remarked that it would, no doubt, cost him a King’s ransom, was agreeably surprised at learning that it was presented to him by a French woman, who would, she said, consider that she had received an inestimable price, should a Condé condescend to inhabit it. He went, instantly, to express his acknowledgments in person.
“This family visited Paris after the peace of Amiens, and it was in its bosom, and through its protection, that I was enabled, a few days sooner, to breathe the air of my country. I was exempted, through its means, from the tedious and painful formalities required from me by the act of amnesty on the frontier, and I felt it my duty to provide for their accommodation at Paris, with much more facility and less inconvenience than they could have done themselves. I had also the happiness, when the measure for detaining the English residents was carried into effect, and this family was placed among the number, of alleviating their condition in my turn, and becoming their security.
“We were, at length, separated by time and circumstances; but they have lost nothing in my recollection; and the needle is less constant to the pole, and less faithful in its guidance, than are my thoughts and my gratitude, with respect to those good and valuable friends. Such, Sire, is what your Majesty is pleased to call my English family.”
We had, however, during my relation, walked to the stable, and called for the calash. The Emperor ordered it to take us up at the bottom of the wood. We waited for it a long time, because Madame de Montholon was seized with a sudden indisposition. Her husband came to apologize for the delay, and the Emperor made him get in.
The conversation turned, during our ride, upon General Joubert, whose brother-in-law and aid-de-camp M. de Montholon had been.
“Joubert,” said the Emperor, “entertained a high veneration for me; he deplored my absence at every reverse experienced by the Republic, during the expedition to Egypt. He was, at that time, at the head of the army of Italy; he had taken me for his model, aspired to imitate my plans, and attempted to accomplish nothing less than what I afterwards effected in Brumaire: he had, however, the Jacobins to assist him. The measures and intrigues of that party, to place the means of executing that grand enterprise in his power, had raised him to the command in Italy, after the disasters of Scherer; of that Scherer who was an ignorant peculator, and deserving of every censure. But Joubert was killed at Novi, in his first rencounter with Suwarrow; any attempt of his, at Paris, would have failed; he had not yet acquired a sufficient degree of glory, of consistency, and maturity. He was, by nature, calculated for all these acquirements, but, at that moment, he was not adequately formed; he was still too young, and that enterprise was then beyond his ability.”
The Emperor could not take more than one round; he found himself too much fatigued, and was far from being well.
At half past eight o’clock, the Emperor ordered me to be called. He told me that he had been obliged to take a bath, and thought he was a little feverish. He felt that he had suddenly caught cold, but he had ceased to cough since he was in the bath. He continued for a long time in the water. He dined in it, and a small table was laid for me by the side. The Emperor reverted to the history of Russia. “Had Peter the Great,” he asked, “acted with wisdom in founding a capital at Petersburgh at so vast an expense? Would not the results have been greater, had he expended all his money at Moscow? What was his object? Had he accomplished it?” I replied: “If Peter had remained at Moscow, his nation would have continued Muscovite, a people altogether Asiatic; it was necessary that it should be displaced for its reform and alteration. He had, therefore, selected a position on the very frontiers, wrested from the enemy, and in founding his capital, and accumulating all his strength, he rendered it invulnerable; he connected himself with European society; he established his power in the Baltic sea, by which he could with ease prevent his natural enemies, the Poles and the Swedes, from forming alliances, upon occasion, with the nations situated in their rear.”[rear.”]
The Emperor said that “he was not altogether satisfied with these reasons. Be it as it may,” he observed, “Moscow has disappeared, and who can compute the wealth that has been swallowed up there? Let us contemplate Paris, with the accumulation of buildings and of industry, the work of centuries. Had its capital, for the 1400 years of its existence, increased but a million a year, what a sum! Let us connect with that the warehouses, the furniture, the union of sciences and the arts, the complete establishments of trade and commerce, &c., and this is the picture of Moscow; and all that vanished in an instant! What a catastrophe! Does not the bare idea of it make one shudder?... I do not think that it could be replaced, at the expense of two thousand millions.”
He expatiated at great length on all these events, and let a word escape him which was too characteristic not to be specially noted down by me. The name of Rostopchin having been pronounced, I presumed to remark that the colour at that time given to his patriotic action had very much surprised me, for he had interested me instead of exciting my indignation: nay, I had envied him!... The Emperor replied with singular vivacity, and with a kind of contraction which betrayed vexation: “If many at Paris had been capable of reading and feeling it in that way, believe me, I should have applauded it! But I had no choice left me.” Resuming the subject of Moscow, he said:—“Never, with all the powers of poetry, have the fictions of the burning of Troy equalled the reality of that of Moscow. The city was of wood, the wind was violent; all the pumps had been taken away. It was literally an ocean of fire. Nothing had been saved from it; our march was so rapid, our entrance so sudden. We found even diamonds on the women’s toilets, they had fled so precipitately. They wrote to us a short time afterwards that they had sought to escape from the first excesses of a dangerous soldiery; that they recommended their property to the generosity of the conquerors, and would not fail to re-appear in the course of a few days to solicit their kindness and testify their gratitude.
“The population was far from having plotted that atrocity. Even they themselves delivered up to us three or four hundred criminals, who escaped from prison, and had executed it,”—“But, Sire, may I presume to ask, if Moscow had not been burnt, did not your Majesty intend to establish your quarters there?”—“Certainly,” answered the Emperor, “and I should then have held up the singular spectacle of an army wintering in the midst of a hostile nation, pressing upon it from all points; it would have been the ship beset by the ice. You would have been in France without any intelligence from me for several months; but you would have remained quiet, you would have acted wisely. Cambacèrés would, as usual, have conducted affairs in my name, and all would have been as orderly as if I had been present. The winter, in Russia, would have weighed heavy on every one; the torpor would have been general. The spring also would have returned for all the world. All would have been at once on their legs, and it is well known that the French are as nimble as any others.
“On the first appearance of fine weather, I should have marched against the enemy; I should have beaten them; I should have been master of their empire. Alexander, be assured, would not have suffered me to proceed so far. He would have agreed to all the conditions which I might have dictated, and France would then have begun to enjoy all her advantages. And, truly, my success depended upon a mere trifle. For I had undertaken the expedition to fight against armed men, not against nature in the violence of her wrath. I defeated armies, but I could not conquer the flames, the frost, stupefaction, and death!... I was forced to yield to fate. And, after all, how unfortunate for France!—indeed for all Europe!
THE BURNING OF MOSCOW.
London: Published for Henry Colburn, March, 1836.
“Peace, concluded at Moscow, would have fulfilled and wound up my hostile expeditions. It would have been, with respect to the grand cause, the term of casualties and the commencement of security. A new horizon, new undertakings, would have unfolded themselves, adapted, in every respect, to the well-being and prosperity of all. The foundation of the European system would have been laid, and my only remaining task would have been its organization.
“Satisfied on these grand points, and every where at peace, I should have also had my Congress and my Holy Alliance. These are plans which were filched from me. In that assembly of all the sovereigns, we should have discussed our interest in a family way, and settled our accounts with the people, as a clerk does with his master.
“The cause of the age was victorious, the revolution accomplished; the only point in question was to reconcile it with what it had not destroyed. But that task belonged to me; I had for a long time been making preparations for it, at the expense, perhaps, of my popularity. No matter. I became the ark of the old and the new covenant, the natural mediator between the old and the new order of things. I maintained the principles and possessed the confidence of the one; I had identified myself with the other. I belonged to them both; I should have acted conscientiously in favour of each. My glory would have consisted in my equity.”
“And, after having enumerated what he would have proposed between sovereign and sovereign, and between sovereigns and their people, he continued: “Powerful as we were, all that we might have conceded would have appeared grand. It would have gained us the gratitude of the people. At present, what they may extort will never seem enough for them, and they will be uniformly distrustful and discontented.”
He next took a review of what he would have proposed for the prosperity, the interest, the enjoyment, and the well-being, of the European confederacy. He wished to establish the same principles, the same system, every where—a European code; a European court of appeal, with full powers to redress all wrong decisions, as our’s redresses at home those of our tribunals; money of the same value, but in different coins; the same weights, the same measures, the same laws.
“Thus Europe,” he said, “would soon have formed, in reality, but one and the same people, and every one, who travelled, would have every where found himself in one common country.”
He would have required that all the rivers should be navigable in common; that the seas should be thrown open; that the great standing armies should, in future, be reduced to the mere guards of the sovereign.
In short, a multitude of ideas fell from him, the greater part of which were new; some of the simplest nature, others altogether sublime, relative to the different political, civil, and legislative branches; to religion, to the arts, and commerce: they embraced every subject.
He concluded: “On my return to France, into the bosom of my country, at once great, powerful, magnificent, at peace, and glorious, I would have proclaimed the immutability of boundaries; all future wars, as purely defensive; all new aggrandizement, as anti-national. I would have associated my son with me in the empire; my dictatorship would have terminated, and his constitutional reign commenced.
“Paris would have been the capital of the world, and the French the envy of nations!... My[My] leisure and my old age would have been devoted, in company with the Empress, and, during the royal apprenticeship of my son, to visiting slowly and with our own horses, like a plain country couple, every corner of the empire; to receiving complaints, redressing wrongs, founding monuments, and doing good every where and by every means!... These also, my dear Las Cases, were among my reveries!!!”
The Emperor conversed a great deal about the interior of Russia, of the prosperity of which, he said, we had no idea. He dwelt, at great length, upon Moscow, which had, under every point of view, much surprised him, and might bear a comparison with any of the capitals of Europe, the greater number of which it surpassed. Here unfortunately I can find but bare outlines in my notes, which it is impossible for me to fill up now.
He was particularly struck with the gilded spires of Moscow, and it was that which induced him, on his return, to have the dome of the Invalids regilt; he intended to embellish many other edifices at Paris in the same manner.[[10]]
As the city of Moscow seems to have been so different from the idea which we have generally entertained of it in our Western world, I am inclined to think that a description of it in this place, supplied by an eye-witness, a distinguished person, attached to the expedition, will not prove disagreeable. It is by Baron Larrey, surgeon-in-chief to the grand army. I take it from a work of that celebrated character (Mémoires de la Chirurgie Militaire), in no great circulation, on account, perhaps, of its peculiarly scientific nature.
The relation begins at the moment when the French army was setting out for Moscow, after the battle of Mozaisk or of the Moskowa.
“We were hardly a few miles off from Mozaisk, when we were all surprised at finding ourselves, notwithstanding the vicinity of the spot to one of the greatest capitals in the world, on a sandy, arid, and completely desert plain. The mournful aspect of that solitude, which discouraged the soldiers, seemed an omen of the entire abandonment of Moscow, and of the misfortunes which awaited us in that city, from the opulence of which we had promised ourselves such advantages.
“The army marched, with difficulty, over that tract.[tract.] The horses were harassed, and exhausted with hunger and thirst, for water was as rare as forage. The men had also a great deal to suffer. They were, in fact, overwhelmed with fatigue, and in want of all subsistence. The troops had not, for a long time, received any rations, and the small quantity of provisions found at Mozaisk was only sufficient for the young and old guard. A considerable number of the former corps fell victims to their abuse of the spirits of the country. They were observed to quit their comrades a few paces, to totter, whirl round, and afterwards fall on their knees or sit down involuntarily; they remained immoveable in that attitude, and expired shortly afterwards, without uttering a single complaint. These young men were pre-disposed to the pernicious effects of that liquor by languor, privations and excessive fatigue.
“We arrived, however, on the evening of the 14th of September, in one of the suburbs of Moscow; we there learnt that the Russian army had, in its passage through the city, carried off all the citizens and public functionaries, some of the lower classes and servants alone were left; so that, in going through the principal streets of that great city, which we entered the following morning, we scarcely met any one; all the houses were completely abandoned. But what very much surprised us was to see the fire break out in several remote quarters, where none of our troops had yet been, and particularly in the bazar of the Kremlin, an immense building, with porticoes which have some resemblance to those of the Palais Royal at Paris.
“After what we had witnessed on our passage through Little Russia, we were astonished at the vastness of Moscow, at the great number of churches and palaces which it contained, at the beautiful architecture of those edifices, at the commodious disposition of the principal houses, and all the objects of luxury which were found in the greater part of them. The streets in general were spacious, regular, and well laid out. Nothing had the appearance of discordance throughout that city. Every thing announced its wealth, and the immense trade it carried on in the productions of the four quarters of the world.
“The variety displayed in the construction of the palaces, houses, and churches, was an infinite addition to the beauty of the city. There were places which, by the peculiar kind of architecture of the different edifices, indicated the nations that generally inhabited them; thus, the residence of the Franks, Chinese, Indians, and Germans, was easily distinguished. The Kremlin might be considered as the citadel of Moscow; it is in the centre of the town, situated on an eminence sufficiently elevated, surrounded by a wall with bastions, and flanked, at regular distances, by towers, mounted with cannon. The bazaar, which has been already noticed, usually filled with the merchandize of India, and valuable furs, had become the prey of the flames, and the only articles preserved were those which had been deposited in the vaults, where the soldiers penetrated, after the fire that consumed the whole of the exterior of that beautiful edifice. The palace of the Emperors, that of the senate, the archives, the arsenal, and two very ancient churches, occupy the rest of the Kremlin. These different buildings, of a rich style of architecture, form a magnificent appearance about the parade. One might imagine one’s self transported to the public place of ancient Athens, where the Areopagus and the temple of Minerva on one side, and the academy and the arsenal on the other, were the objects of admiration. A cylindrical tower rises between the two churches, in the form of a column, known by the name of Yvan’s tower; it is rather an Egyptian minaret, within which several bells, of different sizes, are hung. At the foot of this tower, is seen a bell of a prodigious magnitude, which has been noticed by all the historians. The whole of the city and its environs are seen from the top of the towers; it looks like a star, with four forked rays. The city has a most picturesque appearance, from the variegated colours of the roofs of the houses, and from the gold and silver which cover the domes and the tops of the steeples, of which there is a considerable number. Nothing can equal the richness of one of the churches of the Kremlin (it was the burial-place of the Emperors); its walls are covered with plates of silver gilt, five or six lines thick, on which the history of the Old and New Testament is represented in relievo; the lustres and candelabra, of massy silver, were particularly remarkable for their extraordinary size.
“The hospitals, to which my attention was peculiarly directed, are worthy of the most civilized nation in the world; I divide them into military and civil. The great military hospital is divided into three parts, forming altogether a parallelogram. The principal part was constructed on the side of a great road, opposite to an immense barrack, which may be compared to the military school at Paris. Two lateral buildings, intersecting the first at right angles, inclose the court, which communicates with a fine and extensive garden appropriated to the use of the sick. A portico, with columns of the composite order, forms the front of this building, which is two stories high. At the entrance is a spacious lobby, with corresponding doors to the wards on the ground-floor, and a large and magnificent staircase leading to the upper stories. The wards occupy the entire length of the building, and the windows on each side reach from the ceiling to the floor; they are made with double sashes, as is customary throughout Russia, and are completely closed in winter; stoves are placed in the inside at suitable distances. The wards contain four rows of beds of the same kind, separated by the requisite space for wholesomeness: each row consists of fifty beds, and the total number may be estimated at more than three thousand; the hospital contains fourteen principal wards of very nearly the same extent. The offices, dispensary, kitchen, and other accessories, are very commodiously situated, in separate places, at a convenient distance from the wards.
“The civil hospitals are equally entitled to notice. The four principal are those of Cheremetow, Galitzin, Alexander, and the foundlings.
“The first, remarkable for its form, its structure, and its internal arrangements, was used to receive the sick and wounded belonging to the guard.
“This hospital, which is three stories high, is built in the form of a crescent; the requisite offices are situated in the rear. A beautiful portico, projecting from the centre of the half-moon, forms the entrance of a chapel which occupies the middle of the edifice; this chapel, surmounted by a dome, is the central point of all the wards, and contains the mausoleum of the Prince who founded the hospital: it is adorned with columns in stucco, statues, and beautiful pictures. The dispensary is one of the finest and best supplied that I know.
“The Foundling Hospital, situated on the banks of the Moscowa, and protected by the cannon of the Kremlin, is indisputably the largest and noblest establishment of the kind in Europe. It consists of two masses of building; the first, where the entrance is placed, is appropriated to the residence of the Governor, who is selected from the old generals of the army, of the board of management, of the medical officers, and of all those employed in the service of the hospital. The second forms a perfect square. In the centre of the court, which is very spacious, is a reservoir, that supplies the whole of the establishment[establishment] with water from the river. Each of the sides consists of four stories, round which runs a regular corridor, not very broad, yet sufficiently spacious for the admission of air, and the accommodation of persons passing through it. The wards occupy the remainder of the breadth, and the whole length of each wing of the building. There are two rows of beds with curtains in each ward, their size corresponds with that of the children: the boys are kept separate from the girls, and the greatest cleanliness and regularity are observed.
“We had scarcely taken possession of the city, and succeeded in extinguishing the fire, kindled by the Russians in the most beautiful quarters, when, in consequence of two principal causes, the flames again broke out in the most violent manner, spread rapidly from one street to another, and involved the whole place in one common ruin. The first of these causes is justly reported to have been the desperate resolution of a certain class of Russians, who were said to have been confined in the prisons, the doors of which were thrown open on the departure of the army; these wretches, whether incited by superior authority, or by their own feelings, with the view, no doubt, of plunder, openly ran from palace to palace, and from house to house, setting fire to every thing that fell in their way. The French patroles, although numerous and on the alert, were unable to prevent them. I saw several of those miscreants taken in the act; lighted matches and combustibles were found in their possession. The pain of death inflicted upon those caught in the actual commission of the atrocity made no impression on the others, and the fire raged three days and three nights without interruption; in vain houses were pulled down by our soldiers, the flames quickly overleaped the vacant space, and the buildings thus insulated, were set on fire in the twinkling of an eye. The second cause must be attributed to the violence of the equinoctial winds, which are always very powerful in those parts, and by means of which the conflagration increased and extended its ravages with extraordinary activity.
“It would be difficult, under any circumstances, to imagine a picture more horrible than that with which our eyes were afflicted. It was more particularly during night, between the 18th and 19th of September, the period when the fire was at the highest pitch, that its effects presented a terrific spectacle: the weather was fine and dry, the wind continuing to blow from East to North, or from North to East. During that night, the dreadful image of which will never be effaced from my memory, the whole of the city was on fire. Large columns of flames of various colours shot up from every quarter, entirely covered the horizon, and diffused a glaring light and a scorching heat to a considerable distance. These masses of fire, driven by the violence of the winds in all directions, were accompanied in their rise and rapid movement, by a dreadful whizzing and by thundering explosions, the result of the combustion of gunpowder, saltpetre, oil, resin, and brandy, with which the greater part of the houses and shops had been filled. The varnished iron plates, with which the buildings were covered, were speedily loosened by the heat, and whirled far away; large pieces of burning beams and rafters of fir were carried to a great distance, and contributed to extend the conflagration to houses which were considered in no danger, on account of their remoteness. Every one was struck with terror and consternation. The guard, with the head-quarters and the staff of the army, left the Kremlin and the city, and formed a camp at Petrowski, a mansion which belonged to Peter the Great, on the road to Petersburg. I remained with a very small number of my comrades, in a house built of stone, which stood alone, and was situated on the top of the quarter of the Franks, close to the Kremlin. I was there enabled to observe all the phenomena of that tremendous conflagration. We had sent our equipage to the camp, and kept ourselves constantly on the look-out, to be prepared for, or to prevent, danger.
“The lower classes, who had remained at Moscow, driven from house to house by the fire, uttered the most lamentable cries; extremely anxious to preserve what was most valuable to them, they loaded themselves with packages, which they could hardly sustain, and which they frequently abandoned to escape from the flames. The women, impelled by a very natural feeling of humanity, carried one or two children on their shoulders, and dragged the others along by the hand; and, in order to avoid the death which threatened them on every side, they ran, with their petticoats tucked up, to take shelter in the corners of the streets and squares; but they were soon compelled, by the intenseness of the heat, to abandon those spots, and to fly with precipitation by any way that was open to them, sometimes without being able to extricate themselves from that kind of labyrinth, where many of them met with a miserable end. I saw old men, whose long beards had been caught by the flames, drawn on small carts by their own children, who endeavoured to rescue them from that real Tartarus.
“As for our soldiers, tormented with hunger and thirst, they exposed themselves to every danger, to obtain, in the burning cellars and shops, eatables, wines, liquors, or any other article more or less useful. They were seen running through the streets, pell-mell with the broken-hearted inhabitants, carrying away every thing they could snatch from the ravages of this dreadful conflagration. At length, in the course of eight or ten days, this immense and superb city was reduced to ashes, with the exception of the Kremlin palace, some large houses, and all the churches: these edifices are built of stone.
“This calamity threw the army into great consternation, and was a presage to us of more serious misfortunes. We all thought that we should no longer find either subsistence, cloth, or any other necessary for equipping the troops, and of which we were in the most urgent want. Could a more dismal idea suggest itself to our imagination? The head quarters were, however, after the fire, again established at the Kremlin, and the guard sent to some houses of the Franks’[Franks’] quarter, which had been preserved. Every one resumed the exercise of his duties.
“Magazines of flour, meal, salt-fish, oil, wine and liquors, were discovered by dint of perseverance. Some were served out to the troops, but there was too great a wish to spare or hoard up these articles, and that excess of precaution, which is sometimes a mere pretext, induced us to burn or leave behind us, in the end, provisions of every kind, from which we might have derived the greatest benefit, and which would have even been sufficient for the wants of the army for more than six months, had we remained at Moscow. The same conduct was pursued with regard to the stuffs and furs, which ought to have been immediately worked up for the purpose of supplying our troops with all the clothing capable of preserving them, as much as possible, from the inclemency of the cold that was at hand. The soldiers, who never think of the future, so far from obviating, on their part and for their own advantage, that want of precaution, were solely engaged in searching for wines, liquors, and articles of gold and silver, and despised every other consideration.
“This unexpected abundance, which was owing to the indefatigable researches of the troops, was attended with a bad effect on their discipline and on the health of those who were intemperate. That motive alone ought to have made us hasten our departure for Poland. Moscow became a new Capua to our army. The enemy’s generals flattered ours with the hopes of peace; the preliminaries were to be signed from day to day. Meanwhile clouds of Cossacks covered our cantonments and carried off every day a great number of our foragers. General Kutusoff was collecting the wreck of his army and strengthening himself with the recruits who joined him from all parts. Imperceptibly, and under various pretences of pacification, his advanced posts drew near to ours. Finally, the period of negotiation had arrived, and it was at the moment in which the French ambassador was to obtain a first decision, that Prince Joachim’s corps d’armée was surrounded. It was with difficulty that our general, the ambassador, surmounted the obstacles which were opposed to his return to Moscow. Several parties of our troops and some pieces of cannon had been already carried off. The different corps of this advanced guard, which were at first dispersed, were nevertheless rallied, broke the Russian column that hemmed them in, took up a favourable position, and charged successively the enemy’s numerous cavalry, which they repulsed with vigour, retaking part of the artillery and some of the soldiers made prisoners in the first onset. At length, the arrival of General Lauriston, and of the wounded, was to us, at head quarters, a confirmation that hostilities would be resumed. Orders were immediately given for the sudden departure of the army; the drum beat to arms, and all the corps prepared to execute that precipitate movement. Some provisions were hastily collected and the march commenced on the 19th of October.”
ON THE CORONATION, &C.—DECREES OF BERLIN AND MILAN.—THE GRAND CAUSE OF THE HATRED OF THE ENGLISH.
25th.—The weather has become fine in every respect. The Emperor breakfasted in the tent and sent for us all. The conversation turned upon the ceremonies of the coronation. He asked for particulars from one of us, who had been present, but was unable to satisfy him. He made the same inquiries of another, but the latter had not seen it. “Where were you then at that time?” asked the Emperor.—“At Paris, Sire.”—“How then! you did not see the coronation!”—“No Sire.” The Emperor, then casting a side glance at him, and taking him by the ear, said; “Were you so absurd as to carry your aristocracy to that point?”—“But, Sire, my hour was not come.”—“But at least you saw the retinue?”—“Ah! Sire, had my curiosity prevailed, I should have hastened to witness what was most worthy and most interesting to be seen. I had, however, a ticket of admission, and I preferred presenting it to the English lady whom I lately mentioned to your Majesty, and who, by way of parenthesis, caught a cold there, that nearly killed her. For my own part I remained quietly at home.”—“Ah, that is too much for me to put up with,” said the Emperor, “the villanous aristocrat! How! And you were really guilty of such an absurdity?”—“Alas! I was,” replied the accused, “and yet here I am near you, and at St. Helena.” The Emperor smiled, and let go the ear.
After breakfast, a captain of the English artillery, who had been six years at the Isle of France, called upon me. He was to sail for Europe the next day. He entreated me in a thousand ways to procure him the happiness of seeing the Emperor. He would, he said, give all he had in the world for such a favour; his gratitude would be boundless, &c.
We conversed together for a long time; the Emperor was taking his round in the calash. On his return, I was fortunate enough to fulfil the English officer’s wishes. The Emperor received him for upwards of a quarter of an hour; his joy was extreme, as he was aware that the favour became every day more rare. Every thing about the Emperor had struck him, he declared, in a most extraordinary manner; his features, his affability, the sound of his voice, his expressions, the questions he had asked; he was, he exclaimed, a hero, a god!...
The weather was delightful. The Emperor continued to walk in the garden in the midst of us. He discussed the failure of a negotiation undertaken by one of us; a business which the Emperor had judged very easy, but which turned out to be of the most delicate nature for the person entrusted with it. The object of it was to prevail upon some English officers to publish a certain paper in England.
The Emperor expressed his disapprobation of the failure in his usual mode of reasoning, and with the intelligence and point that are familiar to him: he was, however, very much disappointed at it: his observations were rather strong; he pushed them to a degree of ill humour of which the person he found fault with had never, perhaps, before, received any proofs. At length, he concluded with saying: “After all, Sir, would you not have accepted yourself what you proposed to others, had you been in their place?”—“No, Sire.”—“Why not? Well then,” he added, in a tone of reproof, “you should not be my Minister of Police.” “And your Majesty would be in the right,” quickly replied the other, who felt himself vexed in his turn; “I feel no inclination whatever for such an office.” The Emperor, seeing him enter the saloon, a little before dinner, said: “Ah! there is our little Officer of Police! Come, approach, my little Officer of Police;” and he pinched his ear. Although hours had passed since the warm conversation took place, the Emperor recollected it; he knew that the person who had been the subject of it was full of sensibility, and it was evident that he wished to efface the impression it had made upon him. These are characteristic shades, and those which arise from the most trifling causes are the most natural and the most marked.
After dinner, the Emperor was led, by the turn which the conversation took, to review the special subject of his maritime quarrel with England. “Her pretensions to blockade on paper,” he observed, “produced my famous Berlin decree. The British council, in a fit of resentment, issued its orders; it established a right of toll on the seas. I instantly replied by the celebrated Milan decrees, which denationalized every flag that submitted to the English acts; and it was then that the war became, in England truly personal. Every one connected with trade was enraged against me. England was exasperated at a struggle and energy, of which she had no example. She had uniformly found those who had preceded me more complaisant.”
The Emperor explained, on a later occasion, the means, by which he had forced the Americans to make war against the English. He had, he said, discovered the way of connecting their interests with their rights; for people, he remarked, fight much more readily for the former than for the latter.
At present, the Emperor expected, he said, some approaching attempt, on the part of the English, on the sovereignty of the seas, for the establishment of the right of universal toll, &c. “It is,” said he, “one of the principal resources left them for discharging their debts, for extricating themselves from the abyss into which they are plunged; in a word, for getting rid of their embarrassments. If they have among them an enterprising genius, a man of a strong intellect, they will certainly undertake something of that kind. Nobody is powerful enough to oppose it, and they set up their claim with a sort of justice. They may plead, in its justification, that it was for the safety of Europe they involved themselves in difficulties; that they succeeded, and that they are entitled to some compensation. And then, the only ships of war in Europe are theirs. They reign, in fact, at present, over the seas. There is an end to existence of public rights when the ballance is the broken, &c., &c.
“The English may now be omnipotent, if they will but confine themselves to their navy. But they will endanger their superiority, complicate their affairs, and insensibly lose their importance, if they persevere in keeping soldiers on the continent.”
ACCOUNT OF THE CAMPAIGN OF WATERLOO DICTATED
BY NAPOLEON.
26th.—The Emperor went out early in the morning, before seven o’clock; he did not wish to disturb any of us. He began to work alone in the garden beneath the tent, where he sent for us all to breakfast with him. He continued there until two o’clock.
At dinner, he conversed a great deal about our situation in the island. He would not, he said, leave Longwood; he did not care for any visitors; but he was desirous that we should take some diversion, and find out some means of amusement. It would, he said, be a pleasure to him to see us move about and get abroad more.
The narrative of the battle of Waterloo, which the Emperor had dictated to General Gourgaud, was read by his desire. What a story! It is painful to think of it. The destinies of France suspended by so slight a thread!
This production was published in Europe in 1820. The measures contrived to transmit it clandestinely from St. Helena proved successful, in spite of every kind of vigilance. The instant this narrative appeared, every body was agreed as to its author. An exclamation burst from every quarter that Napoleon alone was capable of describing in that manner, and it is confidently stated that the Generalissimo, his antagonist, expressed himself precisely in the same way. What noble chapters! It would be impossible to attempt an analysis of them, or to pretend to convey their excellence in terms adequate to their merits. We literally transcribe, however, in this place, the last pages, containing, in the shape of a summary, nine observations of Napoleon, on the faults with which he has been reproached in that campaign.
They are points which will become classic, and we are of opinion that our readers will not be displeased at again finding here subjects which become, every time the occasion presents itself, topics of earnest and important discussion.
We shall preface these observations with a description, also from Napoleon’s dictation, of the resources which France still possessed after the loss of the battle.
“The situation of France was critical, but not desperate, after the battle of Waterloo. Every preparatory measure had been taken, on the supposition of the failure of the attack upon Belgium. Seventy thousand men were rallied on the 27th, between Paris and Laon; from 25 to 30,000, including the depôts of the guard, were on their march from Paris and the depots; General Rapp, with 25,000 men, chosen troops, was expected on the Marne, in the beginning of July; all the losses sustained in the materiel of the artillery had been repaired. Paris, alone, contained 500 pieces of field-artillery, and only 170 had been lost. Thus an army of 120,000 men, equal to that which had passed the Sambre on the 15th, with a train of artillery, consisting of 350 pieces of cannon, would cover Paris by the 1st of July. That capital possessed, independently of these means, for its defence, 36,000 men of the National Guard, 30,000 sharpshooters, 6000 gunners, 600 battering cannon, formidable entrenchments on the right bank of the Seine, and, in a few days, those of the left bank would have been entirely completed. The Anglo-Dutch and Prusso-Saxon armies, diminished, however, by more than 80,000 men, and no longer exceeding 140,000, could not cross the Somme with more than 90,000; they would have to wait there for the co-operation of the Austrian and Russian armies, which could not be on the Marne before the 15th of July. Paris had, consequently, twenty-five days to prepare for its defence, to complete the arming of its inhabitants, its fortifications, its supplies of provisions, and to draw troops from every point of France. Even by the 15th of July, not more than 30, or 40,000 men could have arrived on the Rhine. The mass of the Russian and Austrian armies could not take the field before a later period. Neither arms, nor ammunition, nor officers were wanting in the capital; the number of sharpshooters might be easily augmented to 80,000, and the field artillery could be increased to 600 pieces.
“Marshal Suchet, in conjunction with General Lécourbe, would have had, at the same time, upwards of 30,000 men before Lyons, independently of the garrison of that city, which would have been well armed, well supplied with provisions, and well protected by entrenchments. The defence of all the strong places was secured; they were commanded by chosen officers, and garrisoned by faithful troops. Every thing might be repaired, but decision, energy, and firmness, on the part of the officers, of the Government, of the Chambers, and of the whole nation, were necessary. It was requisite that France should be animated by the sentiment of honour, of glory, of national independence; that she should fix her eyes upon Rome after the battle of Cannæ, and not upon Carthage after that of Zama!!! If France had raised herself to that height, she would have been invincible. Her people contained more of the military elements than any other people in the world. The materiel of war existed in abundance, and was adequate to every want.
“On the 21st of June, Marshal Blucher and the Duke of Wellington entered the French territory at the head of two columns. On the 22nd, the powder magazine at Avesnes took fire, and the place surrendered. On the 24th, the Prussians entered Guise, and the Duke of Wellington was at Cambray. He was at Peronne on the 26th. During the whole of this time, the fortresses on the first, second, and third line in Flanders were invested. The two generals learned, however, on the 25th, the Emperor’s abdication, which had taken place on the 22d, the insurrection of the Chambers, the discouragement occasioned by these circumstances in the army, and the hopes excited among our internal enemies. From that moment, they thought only of marching upon the capital, under the walls of which they arrived at the latter end of June, with fewer than 90,000 men; an enterprise that would have proved fatal to them, and drawn on their total ruin, had they hazarded it in the presence of Napoleon: but that Prince had abdicated!!! The troops of the line at Paris, more than 6000 men of the depôts of the guard, the sharpshooters of the National Guard, chosen from among the people of that great capital, were devoted to him; they had it in their power to exterminate the domestic enemy!!! But in order to explain the motives which regulated his conduct in that important crisis, which was attended with such fatal results both for him and for France, the narrative must go back to an earlier period.
First Observation.—“The Emperor has been reproached, 1st, With having resigned the dictatorship, at the moment when France stood most in need of a dictator; 2nd, With having altered the constitutions of the empire, at a moment when it was necessary to think only of preserving it from invasion; 3rd, With having permitted the Vendeans to be alarmed, who had, at first, refused to take arms against the imperial government; 4th, With having assembled the Chambers, when he ought to have assembled the army; 5th, With having abdicated and left France at the mercy of a divided and inexperienced assembly; for, in fine, if it be true, that it was impossible for the Prince to save the country without the confidence of the nation, it is not less true that the nation could not, in these critical circumstances, preserve either its happiness or its independence without Napoleon.
Second Observation.—“The art, with which the movements of the different bodies of the army were concealed from the enemy’s knowledge, on the opening of the campaign, cannot be too attentively remarked. Marshal Blucher and the Duke of Wellington were surprised; they saw nothing, knew nothing, of the operations which were carrying on near their advanced posts.
“In order to attack the two hostile armies, the French might have out-flanked their right or left, or penetrated their centre. In the first case, they might have advanced by the way of Lisle, and fallen in with the Anglo-Dutch army; in the second, they might have moved forward by Givet and Charlemont, and have fallen in with the Prusso-Saxon army. These two armies would have remained united, since they must have been pressed the one upon the other, from the right to the left, and from the left to the right. The Emperor adopted the plan of covering his movements with the Sambre, and piercing the line of the two armies at Charleroi, their point of junction, executing his manœuvres with rapidity and skill. He thus discovered, in the secrets of the art, means to supply the place of 100,000 men, whom he needed. The plan was executed with boldness and prudence.
Third Observation.—“The character of several generals had been affected by the events of 1814; they had lost somewhat of that spirit, of that resolution, and that confidence, by which they had gained so much glory and so much contributed to the success of former campaigns.
“1st.—On the 15th of June, the third corps was to march at three o’clock in the morning, and arrive at Charleroi at ten; it did not arrive until three o’clock in the afternoon.
“2ndly.—The same day the attack on the woods in front of Fleurus, which had been ordered at four in the afternoon, did not take place until seven. Night came on before the troops could enter Fleurus, where the Commander in Chief had intended to establish his head-quarters the same day. The loss of seven hours was very vexatious on the opening of a campaign.
“3rdly.—Ney received orders to advance on the 16th with 43,000 men, who composed the left under his command, in front of Quatre-Bras, to take up a position there at day-break, and even to entrench himself; he hesitated, and lost eight hours. The Prince of Orange, with only 9000 men, retained, on the 16th until three o’clock in the afternoon, that important position. When at length, the Marshal received at twelve o’clock at noon the order dated from Fleurus, and saw, that the Emperor was on the point of attacking the Prussians, he advanced against Quatre-Bras, but only with half his force, leaving the other half to cover his retreat at the distance of two leagues in the rear; he forgot it until six in the evening, when he felt the want of it for his own defence. In other campaigns, that General would have made himself master of the position in front of Quatre-Bras at six o’clock in the morning; he would have routed and captured the whole of the Belgic division, and either turned the Prussian army by sending a detachment on the Namur road to fall on the rear of their line of battle; or, by moving rapidly along the road to Gennapes, he would have surprised and destroyed the Brunswick division on its march, and the fifth English division as it advanced from Brussels. He would have afterwards marched to meet the third and fourth English divisions, which were advancing by way of Nivelles, and were both destitute of cavalry and artillery, and overwhelmed with fatigue. Ney, who was always first in the heat of battle, forgot the troops that were not directly engaged. The courage which a Commander in Chief should display is different from that of a general of division, as that of the latter ought to differ from the bravery of a captain of grenadiers.
“4thly.—The advanced guard of the French army did not arrive on the 16th, in front of Waterloo, until six o’clock in the evening; it would have arrived at three but for some vexatious hesitations. The Emperor was very much mortified at the delay, and, pointing at the sun, exclaimed, “What would I now give to have the power of Joshua, and to stop its progress for two hours!”
Fourth Observation.—“The French soldier never displayed more bravery, cheerfulness, and enthusiasm; he was animated with the sentiment of his superiority over all the soldiers of Europe. His confidence in the Emperor was altogether unabated; it had, perhaps, increased: but he was suspicious and distrustful of his other Commanders. The treasons of 1814 were always in his thoughts, and he was uneasy at every movement which he did not understand; he thought he was betrayed. At the moment when the first cannon-shots were firing near St. Amand, an old corporal approached the Emperor and said: “Sire, beware of General Soult; be assured that he is a traitor.”—“Fear nothing,” replied the Emperor, “I can answer for him as for myself.” In the middle of the battle, an officer informed Marshal Soult that General Vandamme had gone over to the enemy, and that his soldiers demanded, with loud cries, that the Emperor should be made acquainted with it. At the close of the battle, a dragoon, with his sabre covered with blood, galloped up to him crying, “Sire, come instantly to the division. General Dhénin is persuading the dragoons to go over to the enemy.”—“Did you hear him?“—“No, Sire, but an officer, who is looking for you, saw him and ordered me to tell your Majesty.” During this time, the gallant General Dhénin received a cannon shot, which carried off one of his legs, after he had repulsed the enemy’s charge.
“On the 14th, in the evening, Lieutenant-General B——, Colonel C——, and V——, an officer of the staff, deserted and went over to the enemy. Their names will be held in execration as long as the French shall constitute a nation. The uneasy feelings of the troops had been considerably aggravated by that desertion. It appears nearly certain that the cry of Sauve qui peut was raised among the soldiers of the fourth division of the first corps, on the evening of the battle of Waterloo, when Marshal Blucher attacked the village of La Haye. That village was not defended as it ought to have been.[[11]] It is equally probable that several officers, charged with the communication of orders, disappeared. But, if some officers deserted, not a single private was guilty of that crime. Several killed themselves on the field of battle, where they lay wounded, when they learned the defeat of the army.
Fifth Observation.—“In the battle of the 17th, the French army was divided into three bodies; 69,000 men under the Emperor’s command, marched against Brussels by the way of Charleroi; 34,000, under the command of Marshal Grouchy, directed their operations against that capital by way of Wavres, in pursuit of the Prussians; 7 or 8000 men remained on the field of battle at Ligny, of whom 3000, belonging to Girard’s division, were employed in assisting the wounded, and in forming a reserve for any unexpected casualty at Quatre-Bras; and 4 or 5000 continued with the reserve at Fleurus and at Charleroi. The 34,000 men under the command of Marshal Grouchy, with 108 pieces of cannon, were sufficient to drive the Prussian rear-guard from any position it might take up, to press upon the retreat of the conquered army, and to keep it in check. It was a glorious result of the victory of Ligny, to be thus enabled to oppose 34,000 men to an army which had consisted of 120,000. The 69,000 men, under the Emperor’s command, were sufficient to beat the Anglo-Dutch army, composed of 90,000. The disproportion which existed on the 15th between the two belligerent masses in the ratio of one to two, was materially changed, and it no longer exceeded three to four. Had the Anglo-Dutch army defeated the 69,000 men opposed to it, Napoleon might have been reproached with having ill-calculated his measures; but it is undeniable, even from the enemy’s admission, that, unless General Blucher had arrived, the Anglo-Dutch army would have been driven from the field of battle between eight and nine o’clock at night. If Marshal Blucher had not arrived at eight with his first and second corps, the march on Brussels with two columns, during the battle of the 17th, would have been attended with several advantages. The left would have pressed upon and kept in check the Anglo-Dutch army; the right, under the command of Marshal Grouchy, would have pursued and restrained the operations of the Prusso-Saxon army; and in the evening, the whole of the French army would have effected its junction on a line of less than five leagues from Mont Saint Jean to Wavres, with its advanced posts on the edge of the forest. But the fault committed by Marshal Grouchy, in stopping on the 17th at Gembloux, having marched scarcely two leagues in the course of the day, instead of pushing on three leagues more in front of Wavres, was aggravated and rendered irreparable by that which he committed the following day, the 18th, in losing twelve hours, and arriving at four o’clock in the afternoon in front of Wavres, when he should have been there at six in the morning.
“1st,—Grouchy, charged with the pursuit of Marshal Blucher, lost sight of him for twenty-four hours, from four o’clock in the afternoon of the 17th until a quarter past twelve at noon on the 18th.
“2dly,—The movement of the cavalry on the plain, while General Bulow’s attack was not yet repulsed, proved a distressing accident. It was the intention of the Commander in Chief to order that movement, but not until an hour later, and then it was to have been sustained by the sixteen battalions of infantry belonging to the guard, with one hundred pieces of cannon.
“3dly.—The horse grenadiers and the dragoons of the guard, under the command of General Guyot, engaged without orders. Thus, at five in the afternoon, the army found itself without a reserve of cavalry. If, at half past eight, that reserve had existed, the storm which swept all before it on the field of battle would have been dispersed, the enemy’s charges of cavalry driven back, and the two armies would have slept on the field, notwithstanding the successive arrivals of General Bulow and Marshal Blucher: the advantage would also have been in favour of the French army, as Marshal Grouchy’s 34,000 men, with 108 pieces of cannon, were fresh troops and bivouacked on the field of battle. The enemy’s two armies would have placed themselves in the night under cover of the forest of Soignes. The constant practice in every battle was for the horse-grenadiers and the dragoons of the guard never to lose sight of the Emperor, and never to make a charge but in consequence of an order verbally given by that Prince to the General who commanded them.
“Marshal Mortier, who was Commander in Chief of the guards, gave up the command on the 15th, at Beaumont, just as hostilities were on the point of commencing, and no one was appointed in his stead, which was attended with several inconvenient results.
Sixth Observation.—“1st, The French army manœuvred on the right of the Sambre, on the 13th and 14th. It encamped, the night between the 14th and 15th, within half a league of the Prussian advanced posts; and yet Marshal Blucher had no knowledge of it, and when, on the morning of the 15th, he learned at his head-quarters at Namur that the Emperor had entered Charleroi, the Prusso-Saxon army was still cantoned over an extent of thirty leagues; two days were necessary for him to effect the junction of his troops. It was his duty, from the 15th of May, to advance his head-quarters to Fleurus, to concentrate the cantonments of his army within a radius of eight leagues, with his advanced posts on the Meuse and Sambre. His army might then have been assembled at Ligny on the 15th at noon, to await in that position the attack of the French army, or to march against it in the evening of the 15th, for the purpose of driving it into the Sambre.
“2dly.—Yet, notwithstanding this surprise of Marshal Blucher, he persisted in the project of collecting his troops on the heights of Ligny, behind Fleurus, exposing himself to the hazard of being attacked before the arrival of his army. On the morning of the 16th, he had collected but two corps, and the French army was already at Fleurus. The third corps joined in the course of the day, but the fourth, commanded by General Bulow, was unable to get up in time for the battle. Marshal Blucher, the instant he learned the arrival of the French at Charleroi, that is to say, on the evening of the 15th, ought to have assigned, as a point of junction for his troops, neither Fleurus nor Ligny, which were under the enemy’s cannon, but Wavres, which the French could not have reached until the 17th. He would have also had the whole of the 16th, and the night between the 16th and 17th, to effect the total junction of his army.
“3dly.—After having lost the battle of Ligny, the Prussian General, instead of making his retreat on Wavres, ought to have effected it upon the army of the Duke of Wellington, whether at Quatre-Bras, where the latter had maintained himself, or at Waterloo. The whole of Marshal Blucher’s retreat on the morning of the 17th was contrary to common sense, since the two armies, which were, on the evening of the 16th, little more than three miles from each other, and had a fine road for their point of communication, in consequence of which their junction might have been considered as effected, found themselves, on the evening of the 17th, separated by a distance of nearly twelve miles, and by defiles and impassable ways.
“The Prussian General violated the three grand rules of war; 1st, To keep his cantonments near each other; 2dly, To assign as a point of junction a place where his troops can all assemble before those of the enemy; 3dly, To make his retreat upon his reinforcements.
Seventh Observation.—“1st, The Duke of Wellington was surprised in his cantonments; he ought to have concentrated them on the 15th of May, at eight leagues about Brussels, and kept advanced guards on the roads from Flanders. The French army was for three days manœuvring close upon his advanced posts; it had commenced hostilities twenty four hours, and its head-quarters had been twelve hours at Charleroi, and yet the English General was at Brussels, ignorant of what was passing, and all the cantonments of his army were still in full security, extended over a space of more than twenty leagues.
“2dly.—The Prince of Saxe-Weimar, who belonged to the Anglo-Dutch army, was, on the 16th, at four o’clock in the afternoon in position before Frasne, and knew that the French army was at Charleroi. If he had immediately despatched an aide-de-camp to Brussels, he would have arrived there at six in the evening; and yet the Duke of Wellington was not informed that the French army was at Charleroi until eleven at night. He thus lost five hours, in a crisis, and against a man, that rendered the loss of a single hour highly important.
“3dly.—The infantry, cavalry, and artillery of that army were in cantonments, so remote from each other that the infantry was engaged at Waterloo without cavalry or artillery, which exposed it to considerable loss, since it was obliged to form in close columns to make head against the charges of the cuirassiers, under the fire of fifty pieces of cannon. These brave men were slaughtered without cavalry to protect or artillery to avenge them. As the three branches of an army cannot, for an instant, dispense with each other’s assistance, they should be always cantoned and placed in such a way as to be able to assist each other.
“4th.—The English General, although surprised, assigned Quatre-Bras, which had been, for the last four-and-twenty[four-and-twenty] hours in possession of the French, as the rallying point of his army. He exposed his troops to partial defeats as they gradually arrived; the danger which they incurred was still more considerable, since they came without artillery and without cavalry; he delivered up his infantry to his enemy piece-meal, and destitute of the assistance of the two other branches. He should have fixed upon Waterloo for his point of junction; he would then have had the day of the 16th, and the night between the 16th and 17th, an interval quite sufficient, to collect the whole of his army, infantry, cavalry, and artillery. The French could not have arrived until the 17th, and would have found all his troops in position.
Eighth Observation.—“1st, The English General gave battle at Waterloo on the 18th; that measure was contrary to the interests of his nation, to the general system of war adopted by the Allies, and to all the rules of war. It was not the interest of England, who wants so many men to recruit her armies in India, in her American colonies, and in her vast establishments, to expose herself, with a generous vivacity, to a sanguinary contest in which she might lose the only army she had, and expend, at the very least, her best blood. The plan of the Allies consisted in operating in a mass and in avoiding all partial actions. Nothing was more contrary to their interests and their plan than to expose the success of their cause in a doubtful battle with a nearly equal force, in which all the probabilities were against them. If the Anglo-Dutch army had been destroyed at Waterloo, of what use to the allies would have been the great number of armies that were preparing to cross the Rhine, the Alps, and the Pyrenees?
“2ndly.—The English General, in accepting the battle of Waterloo, placed his reliance on the co-operation of the Prussians, but that co-operation could not be carried into effect until the afternoon; he therefore continued exposed alone from four o’clock in the morning until five in the afternoon, that is to say, for thirteen hours; no battle lasts generally more than six hours; that co-operation was therefore an illusion.
“But, if he relied upon the co-operation of the Prussians, he must have supposed that the whole of the French army was opposed to him, and he must consequently have undertaken to defend his field of battle, during thirteen hours, with 90,000 men of different nations, against an army of 104,000 French. That calculation was evidently false; he could not have maintained himself three hours; the battle would have been decided by eight o’clock in the morning, and the Prussians would have arrived only to be taken in flank. Both armies would have been destroyed in one battle. If he calculated that a part of the French army had, conformably to the rules of war, pursued the Prussian army, he ought, in that case, to have been convinced that he could receive no assistance from it, and that the Prussians, beaten at Ligny, having lost from 25 to 30,000 men on the field of battle, having 20,000 scattered and dispersed over the country, and pursued by from 35 to 40,000 victorious French, would not have risked any fresh operation, and would have considered themselves scarcely sufficient to maintain a defensive position. In that case, the Anglo-Dutch army alone would have had to sustain the shock of 69,000 French during the whole of the 18th, and there is no Englishman who will not admit that the result of that struggle could not have been doubtful, and that their army was not so constituted as to be capable of sustaining the attack of the imperial army for four hours.
“During the whole of the night between the 17th and 18th, the weather was horrible, and the roads were impassable until nine o’clock in the morning. This loss of six hours from day-break, was entirely in the enemy’s favour; but could the English General stake the fate of such a struggle upon the weather which happened in the night between the 17th and 18th? Marshal Grouchy, with 34,000 men and 180 pieces of cannon, found out the secret, which one would suppose was not to be found out, of not being in the engagement of the 18th, either on the field of battle of Mont St. Jean or of Wavres. But, had that Marshal pledged himself to the English General to be led astray in so strange a manner? The conduct of Marshal Grouchy was as unexpected as that his army should, on its march, be swallowed up by an earthquake. Let us recapitulate. If Marshal Grouchy had been on the field of battle of Mont St. Jean, as he was supposed to be by the English General and the Prussian General, during the whole night between the 17th and 18th, and all the morning of the 18th, and the weather had allowed the French army to be drawn up in order of battle at four o’clock in the morning, the Anglo-Dutch army would have been dispersed and cut in pieces before seven; its ruin would have been complete, and if the weather had not allowed the French army to range itself in order of battle until ten, the fate of the Anglo-Dutch army would have been decided before one o’clock; the remains of it would have been driven either beyond the forest or in the direction of Hal, and there would have been quite time enough in the afternoon to go and meet Marshal Blucher, and treat him in a similar manner. If Marshal Grouchy had encamped in front of Wavres in the night between the 17th and 18th, no detachment could have been sent by the Prussians to save the English army, which must have been completely beaten by the 69,000 French opposed to it.
“3dly.—The position of Mont St. Jean was ill chosen. The first requisite of a field of battle is to be without defiles in its rear. The English General derived no advantage, during the battle, from his numerous cavalry; he did not think that he ought to be and would be attacked on the left; he believed that the attack would be made on his right. Notwithstanding the diversion operated in his favour by General Bulow’s 30,000 Prussians, he would have twice effected his retreat, during the battle, had that measure been possible. Thus, in reality, how strange and capricious are human events! the bad choice of his field of battle, which prevented all possibility of retreat, was the cause of his success!!!
Ninth Observation.—“It may be asked, what then should have been the conduct of the English General, after the battle of Ligny and the engagement of Quatre Bras? On this point posterity will not entertain two opinions: he ought, in the night between the 17th and 18th, to have crossed the forest of Soignes, by the road of Charleroi; the Prussian army ought also to have crossed it by the road of Wavres; the armies would have effected a junction by break of day in Brussels; left their rearguards for the defence of the forest, gained some days in order to give time to the Prussians, dispersed after the battle of Ligny, to join their army; reinforced themselves with fourteen English regiments, which were in garrison in the fortresses of Belgium, or had been just landed at Ostend, on their return from America, and let the Emperor of the French manœuvre as he pleased.
“Would he, with an army of 100,000 men have traversed the forest of Soignes to attack in an open country the two united armies, consisting of more than 200,000 men, and in position? It would have certainly been the most advantageous thing that could have happened to the allies. Would he have been content with taking up a position himself? He could not have long remained in an inactive state, since 300,000 Russians, Austrians, Bavarians, &c. were on their march to the Rhine; they would have been in a few weeks on the Marne, which would have compelled him to hasten to the assistance of his capital. It was then that the Anglo-Prussian army ought to have marched and effected its junction with the Allies, under the walls of Paris. It would have exposed itself to no risk, suffered no loss, and have acted conformably to the interests of the English nation, and the general plan of carrying on the war adopted by the Allies, and sanctioned by the rules of the military art. From the 15th to the 18th, the Duke of Wellington invariably manœuvred as his enemy wished; he executed nothing which the latter apprehended he would. The English infantry was firm and solid; the cavalry might have conducted itself better: the Anglo-Dutch army was twice saved, in the course of the day, by the Prussians—the first time before three o’clock, by the arrival of General Bulow with 30,000 men, and the second time by the arrival of Marshal Blucher with 31,000 men. In that battle, 69,000 French beat 120,000 men; the victory was wrested from them, between eight and nine, by 150,000 men.
“Let the feelings of the people of London be imagined, if they had been doomed to hear of the destruction of their army, and the prodigal waste of their best blood, in support of the cause of kings against that of nations, of privileges against equality, of the oligarchs against the liberals, and of the principles of the Holy Alliance against those of the sovereignty of the people!!!”
PLAN FOR A POLITICAL DEFENCE OF NAPOLEON;
SKETCHED BY HIMSELF.
Tuesday, August 27th.—About four o’clock I joined the Emperor in the garden: he had been engaged in dictating during the whole of the morning. The wind was very rough, and the Emperor declined riding out in the calash: he therefore walked about for a considerable time in the great alley through the wood, attended by all the persons of his suite. He jokingly teased one of the party, by observing that he was sulky, and accusing him of being very often discontented and ill-humoured, &c.
The Emperor, on rising from the dinner table, adverted to his recent protest against the treaty of the 2d of August. He expatiated with warmth on the subject, and remarked, while he walked rapidly about the apartment, that he intended to draw up another protest, on a more extensive and important scale, against the Bill that had been passed in the British Parliament. He would prove, he said, that the Bill was not a law, but a violation of every existing law. Napoleon was proscribed, and not judged by it. The English Parliament had done, not what was just, but what was deemed to be expedient; it had imitated Themistocles, without hearing Aristides. The Emperor then arraigned himself before all the nations in Europe, and proved that each would successively acquit him. He took a review of the different acts of his reign, and justified them all.
“The French and the Italians,” said he, “lament my absence; I carry with me the gratitude of the Poles, and even the late and bitter regrets of the Spaniards. Europe will soon deplore the loss of the equilibrium, to the maintenance of which my French empire was absolutely necessary. The Continent is now in the most perilous situation, being continually exposed to the risk of being overrun by Cossacks and Tartars. And the English,” said he in conclusion, “the English will deplore their victory at Waterloo! Things will be carried to such a length that posterity, together with every well-informed and well-disposed person among our contemporaries, will regret that I did not succeed in all my enterprises.”
In course of his remarks, the Emperor occasionally rose to a pitch of sublimity. I shall not follow him into all his details. He promised to dictate the observations he had made, and said that he had already sketched out a plan for his political defence, in fourteen paragraphs.
CATINAT; TURENNE; CONDÉ.—QUESTIONS RESPECTING THE GREATEST BATTLE FOUGHT BY THE EMPEROR; THE BEST TROOPS, &C.
28th.—The Emperor did not go out until four o’clock; he had spent three hours in the bath. The weather was very unpleasant, and in consequence he merely took a few turns in the garden. He had just written to inform the Governor that henceforth he would receive no strangers, unless they were admitted to Longwood by passes from the Grand Marshal, as in the time of Admiral Cockburn.
The Emperor proposed playing a game at chess; but, before he sat down to do so, he took up a volume of Fenelon. It was La Direction de Conscience d’un Roi. He read to us several articles, criticising them with considerable spirit and gaiety. At length he threw down the volume, saying that the name of an author had never influenced him in forming an opinion of his writings; that he always judged of works according to the sentiments with which they inspired him; being always equally willing to praise or to censure. He added that, in spite of the name of Fenelon, he had no hesitation in declaring that the work he had just looked through was a mere string of rhapsodies; and truly it would be difficult to refute this assertion.
After dinner, the Emperor conversed about the old marine establishment, and alluded to M. de Grasse, and his defeat on the 12th of April. He wished to learn some particulars on this subject; and he asked for the Dictionary of Sieges and Battles. He looked over it, and it afforded him matter for a multitude of observations. Catinat came under his consideration, and the remarks he made on that commander lowered him infinitely in our estimation. Napoleon said that he thought him very inferior to the reputation he enjoyed, after viewing the scenes of his operations in Italy, and reading his correspondence with Louvois. “Having risen from the tiers-état,” said he, “and being educated for the law, distinguished for urbanity of manners and moral integrity, affecting the practice of equality, residing at St. Gratien, at the gates of Paris, Catinat became the favourite of the literati of the capital and the philosophers of the day, who exalted him beyond his real merits. He was in no way comparable to Vendôme.”
The Emperor said, that he had endeavoured, in the same manner, to study the characters of Turenne and Condé, suspecting that they were also the objects of exaggerated eulogy; but that he was convinced those two men were fully entitled to all the commendation that has been bestowed on them. With regard to Turenne, he remarked that his intrepidity encreased in proportion as he acquired experience; as he grew old, he evinced greater courage than he seemed to possess in early life. The contrary was observable in Condé, who displayed so much dauntless valour at the commencement of his career.
Now that I am alluding to Turenne, Condé, and other distinguished men, I may mention, as a curious fact, that I never, by any chance, heard Napoleon utter the name of Frederick the Great. Yet many circumstances prove that Frederick held a high rank in Napoleon’s regard. The large silver watch, a kind of alarum used by that Prince, which hangs by the fire-place in the Emperor’s apartment at St. Helena;—the eagerness with which Napoleon, on his entrance into Potzdam, seized the sword of the Prussian hero, exclaiming, “Let those who will seek other spoil; I value this beyond millions!”—finally, his long and silent contemplation of the tomb of Frederick—sufficiently attest the deep interest which Napoleon attached to every thing connected with that sovereign.[[12]]
In the Dictionary of Sieges and Battles, which the Emperor was looking over to-day, he found his name mentioned in every page; but connected with anecdotes either totally false, or at least misstated. This led him to exclaim against the whole swarm of inferior writers, and their unworthy abuse of the pen. “Literature,” he said, “had become the food of the vulgar, while it ought to have been reserved exclusively for people of refined taste.
“For example,” said the Emperor, “it is affirmed that, when at Arcole, I one night took the post of a sentinel who had fallen asleep. This idea was doubtless conceived by a citizen, by a lawyer, perhaps, but certainly not by a soldier. The author evidently wishes to represent me in a favourable point of view; and he of course imagined that nothing could reflect greater credit on me than the story he has invented. He certainly wrote it with the view of doing me honour; but he knew not that I was totally incapable of the action he describes. I was much too fatigued for any such thing; and it is very probable that I should myself have fallen asleep before the sentinel.”
We then enumerated about fifty or sixty great battles that had been fought by the Emperor. Some one present having asked which was the greatest, the Emperor replied that it was difficult to answer that question, since it was first necessary to enquire what was meant by the greatest battle. “Mine,” continued he, “cannot be judged of separately. They had no unity of place, action or design. They formed merely a portion of extensive plans. They can therefore only be judged of by their results. The battle of Marengo, which was so long undecided, procured for us the dominion of all Italy; Ulm annihilated a whole army; Jena threw the whole Prussian monarchy into our hands; Friedland opened to us the Russian empire; and Eckmühl decided the fate of a war. The battle of Moscow was one in which the greatest talent was displayed, and in which the fewest results were obtained. Waterloo, where every thing failed, would, had every thing succeeded, have saved France and re-established Europe.”
Madame de Montholon having asked what troops might be accounted the best, “Those who gain victories, Madam,” replied the Emperor. “But,” added he, “soldiers are capricious and inconstant, like you ladies. The best troops were the Carthagenians under Hannibal; the Romans under the Scipios; the Macedonians under Alexander; and the Prussians under Frederick.” He thought, however, he might safely affirm that the French troops were, of all others, those who could most easily be rendered the best, and preserved so.
“With my complete guard of 40 or 50,000 men, I would have pledged myself to march through all Europe. It may, perhaps, be possible to produce troops as good as those who composed my army of Italy and Austerlitz; but certainly nothing can ever surpass them.”
The Emperor, who had dwelt for a considerable time on this subject, which was so interesting to him, suddenly recollecting himself, asked what it was o’clock. He was informed that it was eleven.—“Well,” said he, rising, “we at least have the merit of having got through our evening without the help of either tragedy or comedy.”
MADAME DE COTTIN’S MATHILDE, &C.—ALL FRENCHMEN INTERESTED IN NAPOLEON.—DESAIX AND NAPOLEON AT MARENGO.—SIR SIDNEY SMITH.—CAUSE OF GENERAL BONAPARTE’S RETURN TO FRANCE.—ACCOUNT OF HIS VOYAGE.—INSTANCES OF THE CAPRICE OF FORTUNE.
29th. About two o’clock the Emperor desired me to attend him in his chamber, and he gave me some private orders. At four I rejoined him. I found him sitting under the tent, surrounded by all his suite; he was swinging backward and forward on his chair, laughing, talking, and making every effort to be cheerful, while, at the same time, he continually repeated that he felt dull and languid. He rose and took a drive in the calash.
After dinner, the conversation turned on romance writing. Some one mentioned Madame Cottin’s Mathilde, the scene of which is laid in Syria. The Emperor asked the person who had alluded to the work whether he had ever seen Madame Cottin, whether she liked him (Napoleon), whether her work was favourable to him, &c., but as he did not receive a ready answer he thus continued: “But every body has loved me and hated me: every one has been for me and against me by turns. I may truly say that there is not a single Frenchman in whom I have not excited interest. All must have loved me, from Collot d’Herbois (had he lived) to the Prince of Condé; only not all at the same[same] time but at different intervals and periods. I was like the sun which crosses the equator to travel through the ecliptic. According as my influence was felt in each different climate, all hopes expanded, and I was blessed and adored; but when I had departed, when I was no longer understood, unfavourable sentiments arose.”
Egypt next became the subject of conversation; and the Emperor again sketched the characters of Kleber and Desaix. The latter joined the First Consul on the eve of the battle of Marengo. Napoleon asked him how he could have thought of signing the capitulation of Egypt; since the army was sufficiently numerous to maintain possession of it. “We ought not to have lost Egypt,” he observed.—“That’s very true,” replied Desaix, “and the army was certainly numerous enough to enable us to retain possession of the country. But the General-in-chief left us; and at that distance from home, the General-in-chief is not a single man in the army; he is the half, the three-fourths, the five-sixths of it. I had no alternative but to resign the possession of the country. I doubt whether I could have succeeded had I acted otherwise; besides, it would have been criminal to make the attempt, for in such a case it is a soldier’s duty to obey, and I did so.”
Desaix, immediately after his arrival at Marengo, obtained the command of the reserve. Towards the end of the battle, and amidst the greatest apparent disorder, Napoleon came up to him:—“Well,” said Desaix, “affairs are going on very badly, the battle is lost. I can only secure the retreat. Is it not so?”—“Quite the contrary,” said the First Consul; “to me the result of the battle was never for a moment doubtful. Those masses, which you see in disorder on the right and left, are marching to form in your rear. The battle is gained. Order your column to advance: you have but to reap the glory of the victory.”
The Emperor afterwards spoke of Sir Sidney Smith, He had, he said, just read in the Moniteur the documents relating to the convention of El-Arish, in which he remarked that Sir Sidney had evinced a great share of intelligence and integrity. The Emperor said he bewildered Kleber by the stories which he made him believe. But when Sir Sidney received intelligence of the refusal of the English Government to ratify the treaty, he was very much dissatisfied, and behaved very honourably to the French army. “After all,” said the Emperor, “Sir Sidney Smith is not a bad man. I now entertain a better opinion of him than I did; particularly after what I daily witness in the conduct of his confederates.”
It was Sir Sidney Smith who, by communicating the European journals to Napoleon, brought about the departure of the General-in-chief, and consequently the dénouement of Brumaire. The French, on their return from St. Jean d’Acre, were totally ignorant of all that had taken place in Europe for several months. Napoleon, eager to obtain intelligence, sent a flag of truce on board the Turkish admiral’s ship, under the pretence of treating for the ransom of the prisoners whom he had taken at Aboukir, not doubting that the envoy would be stopped by Sir Sidney Smith, who carefully prevented all direct communication between the French and the Turks. Accordingly, the French flag of truce received directions from Sir Sidney to go on board his ship. He experienced the handsomest treatment; and the English commander, having among other things ascertained that the disasters of Italy were quite unknown to Napoleon, he indulged in the malicious pleasure of sending him a file of newspapers.
Napoleon spent the whole night in his tent, perusing the papers; and he came to the determination of immediately proceeding to Europe, to repair the disasters of France, and, if possible, to save her from destruction.
Admiral Ganthaume, who brought Napoleon from Egypt in Le Murion frigate, frequently related to me the details of his voyage. The Admiral remained at head-quarters after the destruction of the fleet at Aboukir. Shortly after the return from Syria, and immediately after a communication with the English squadron, the General-in-chief sent for him and directed him to proceed forthwith to Alexandria, to fit out secretly, and with all possible speed, one of the Venetian frigates that were lying off that port, and to let him know when the vessel was ready to sail.
These orders were executed. The General-in-chief, who was making a tour of inspection, proceeded to an unfrequented part of the coast, with a party of his guides. Boats were in readiness to receive them, and they were conveyed to the frigate without passing through Alexandria.
The frigate weighed that very evening, in order to get out of sight of the English cruisers and the fleet that was anchored at Aboukir, before daylight. Unfortunately, a calm ensued while the vessel was still within sight of the coast, and from the tops the English ships at Aboukir were still discernible.
The utmost alarm prevailed on board the frigate. It was proposed to return to Alexandria; but Napoleon opposed this suggestion. The die was cast; and happily they soon got beyond the reach of observation.
The voyage was very long and very unfavourable. The idea of being overtaken by the English frequently occasioned alarm. Though no one knew the intentions of the General, each formed his own conjectures, and the utmost anxiety prevailed. Napoleon alone was calm and undisturbed. During the greater part of the day he used to shut himself up in his cabin, where, as Ganthaume informed me, he employed himself in reading sometimes the Bible, and sometimes the Koran. Whenever he appeared on deck, he displayed the utmost cheerfulness and ease, and conversed on the most indifferent subjects.
General Menou was the last person to whom Napoleon spoke on shore. He said to him, “My dear General, you must take care of yourselves here. If I have the happiness to reach France, the reign of ranting shall he at an end.”
On a perusal of the papers furnished by Sir Sidney Smith, Napoleon formed such an idea of the disasters of France that he concluded the enemy had crossed the Alps, and was already in possession of several of our Southern Departments. When therefore the frigate approached the coast of Europe, Napoleon directed the Admiral to make for Collioure and Port-Vendre, situated at the extremity of the Gulf of Lyons. A gale of wind drove them upon the coast of Corsica. They then entered Ajaccio, where they obtained intelligence of the state of affairs in France.
Ganthaume informed me that he saw, at Ajaccio, the house which was occupied by Napoleon’s family, the patrimonial abode. The arrival of their celebrated countryman immediately set all the inhabitants of the island in motion. A crowd of cousins came to welcome him, and the streets were thronged with people.
Napoleon again set sail, and the frigate now steered towards Marseilles and Toulon. However, just as they were on the point of reaching the place of their destination, a new source of alarm arose. At sunset, on the larboard of the frigate, and precisely in the sun’s rays, they observed thirty sail making towards them with the wind aft. Ganthaume proposed that the long boat of the frigate should be manned with the best sailors, and that the General should get on board, and under favour of the night, endeavour to gain the shore. But Napoleon declined this proposition, observing that there would always be time enough for that mode of escape; and he directed the captain to continue his course as though nothing had occurred. Meanwhile, night set in, and the enemy’s signal-guns were heard, at a distance, and right astern: thus it appeared that the frigate had not been observed. Next day they anchored at Frejus. The rest is well known.
The Emperor concluded the evening’s conversation, by relating to us three curious instances of the caprice of fortune, which took place in the same quarter of the world, and about the same period.
A corporal, who deserted from one of the regiments of the army of Egypt, joined the Mamelukes, and was made a Bey. After his elevation, he wrote a letter to his former General.
A fat sutler’s wife who had followed the French army, became the favourite of the Pasha of Jerusalem. She could not write, but she sent a messenger with her compliments to her old friends, assuring them that she would never forget her country, but would always afford protection to the French and the Christians. “She was,” said the Emperor, “the Zaire of the day.”
A young peasant-girl of Cape Corso, being seized in a fishing-boat by corsairs, was conveyed to Barbary, and subsequently became the ruling favourite of the King of Morocco. The Emperor, after some diplomatic communications, caused the brother of this young girl to be brought from Corsica to Paris, and, after having him suitably fitted out, sent him to his sister; but he never heard of them afterwards.
It was late when the Emperor retired to rest; he had spent upwards of three hours in conversation.
30th.—I attended the Emperor at four o’clock. He had been engaged in dictating under the tent. The Governor had returned answers to the letters which M. de Montholon addressed to him by the Emperor’s orders.
To the first communication, containing the protest against the treaty of the 2d of August, and various other complaints, no answer was returned, except that the Governor wished to be informed what letter he had kept back. This we could not tell him, since we had not seen the letters. We had asked him that question; and he was the only person capable of answering it.
To the second letter, which stated that the Emperor would not receive strangers at Longwood unless they were admitted by the Grand Marshal’s passes, as was usual in the time of Admiral Cockburn, the Governor replied that he had been sorry to see General Bonaparte troubled by intrusive visitors at Longwood, and that he wished to prevent such importunity for the future. This was a most revolting piece of irony, considering the situation in which the Emperor was placed, and the tenor of M. de Montholon’s letter.
After dinner the Emperor retired to the drawing-room, and desired us all to seat ourselves round the table, to form, as he said, an academic sitting. He began to dictate to us on some subjects; but when the parts that had been written were read over to him, he resolved to cancel them. Conversation was then resumed, and was kept up for a considerable time, partly in a serious and partly in a lively strain. It was near one o’clock when the Emperor retired. For some time past we have sat up later than we used to do. This is a good sign: the Emperor feels better, and he is more cheerful and talkative than he lately was.