PERFIDIES.
(G.) Machinations and bad faith of Austria, the first and true cause of our disasters.
(H.) Violation of the armistice of Pleisswitz, relative to our blockaded fortresses.
(I.) Desertion of the chief of the staff of the 3d corps.
(K.) Defection of the Bavarian government.
(L.) Treachery of the Saxons.
(M.) Violation of the capitulation of Dresden, &c.
The following are a few lines of explanation:—
(A.) After the victory of Dresden, some one complimented Napoleon on his great success. “Oh! this is nothing,” observed he, while his countenance beamed with satisfaction; “Vandamme is in their rear, it is there that we must look for the great result.” The Emperor was proceeding in person to assist in accomplishing this decisive operation, when, unfortunately, after one of his meals, he was seized with so violent a retching, that he was supposed to have been poisoned, and it was found necessary to convey him back to Dresden. Thus the operations were interrupted. The fatal consequences that ensued are well known. How trivial was the cause, and how calamitous were the results!
(B.) A sudden overflow of the Bober in Silesia was the principal cause of the disasters of Marshal Macdonald. His corps, while in full operation, were overtaken by the flood, which impeded their operations, and caused the terrible losses which have been above described.
(C.) About the end of September, the King of Bavaria addressed a confidential letter to Napoleon, stating that he would maintain his alliance with him for six weeks or two months longer; and that during that interval he would obstinately refuse every advantage that might be held out to him. The Emperor, who was placed in a most critical situation, and who, but for this circumstance, might, perhaps, have lent an ear to the propositions that were made to him, now no longer hesitated, but immediately determined on the bold movement which he had contemplated on Berlin. He conceived that six weeks would be sufficient to change the state of affairs, and to remove the fears of his allies. Unfortunately, military intrigues proved more powerful than the wishes of the King of Bavaria. Napoleon was forced to suspend his movement, and to give battle at Leipsic with disadvantage. The consequences have already been seen.
(D.) Napoleon, in making his arrangements[arrangements] for the battles of Leipsic, had relied on a diversion of those corps of the army which he had left in Dresden. Their co-operation might have rendered the victory decisive, and have given a new turn to affairs. But, unfortunately the enemy’s force was so numerous, and we were so completely surrounded, that the Emperor’s orders could not be transmitted to Dresden.
(F.) After the two terrible engagements at Leipsic, the French were effecting their retreat across the Elster by a single bridge. An officer who was stationed to guard it was ordered to blow it up if the enemy should present himself in pursuit of our rear-guard. Unluckily this officer was, by some mistake or other, informed that the Emperor wanted him. He immediately obeyed the summons, and in his absence a corporal of sappers, at the first sight of some detached Russian corps, fired the train and blew up the bridge, thus dooming to perdition that portion of our force which still remained on the Leipsic bank of the river. The whole of our rear-guard and baggage, two hundred pieces of artillery, and thirty thousand prisoners (stragglers, wounded and sick), fell into the hands of the enemy.
On the publication of the bulletins containing this intelligence, a general outcry was raised by the discontented party in Paris. It was asserted that the whole was a fabrication, and that the Emperor himself had ordered the blowing up of the bridge, with a view to ensure his own safety at the expense of the rest of the army. It was in vain to refer to the statement of the officer, who confirmed the fact, while he attempted to justify himself. This was declared to be another fabrication or a piece of complaisance on the part of the officer. Such was the language of the time.[[17]]
(G.) The duplicity and bad faith of Austria, the numerous contradictions between her acts and her professions, have already been mentioned. Unmindful of the generosity of which she had been the object after the battles of Leoben, Austerlitz, and Wagram, she discharged her debt of gratitude according to the rules of policy, by eagerly seizing the opportunity of repairing her losses at any price.
She ruined us by making us consent to the armistice of Pleisswitz; and her conduct was the more odious, as she was determined to make war against us; and a few days afterwards, though still our friend and ally, and offering herself as a mediatrix, she entered into engagements hostile to us. Her participation in the conventions of Rechembach about the middle of June, and in the conferences of Trachenbergh, at the commencement of July, is now well known. The necessity of maintaining a certain appearance of decorum occasioned these matters to be kept a secret for about a month after the commencement of hostilities. They were at first proposed to Francis merely as eventual and precautionary measures; and he was induced to affix his signature to them only by the representations of his ministers, who described Napoleon as the scourge of mankind, and attributed to him the delays in the opening of the Congress, which in reality were occasioned by themselves. (Montveran, vol. vi. p. 262.)
But, in spite of the conduct of Austria, Napoleon still cherished the hope of seeing her resume her alliance with him; not that he could calculate on any misunderstanding between her and the other coalesced[coalesced] Powers, but because he supposed her to be sufficiently clear-sighted with respect to her own interests. This idea never forsook him until the moment of signing his abdication.[[18]]
(H.) The fortresses occupied by French troops in those places which were in the possession of the Allied forces, were to have a clear circuit of one league, and to receive supplies of provisions every five days; but this article was not honestly fulfilled.
When the Armistice was prolonged, the French commissaries demanded that officers of their army should be sent to the commanders of the fortresses; but the Russian General-in-chief objected to this, and circumstances were such that we were obliged to give up the point. (Montveran, vol. vi. p. 270.)
(I.) The chief of the staff of the 3d corps, a Swiss by birth, but educated in our ranks, went over to the enemy a few days before the renewal of hostilities, taking with him all the information he could collect. For this service the Emperor of Russia rewarded him with particular favour and made him one of his Aides-de-camp. It has been said that this officer, who was possessed of great talent, had reason to complain of some injustice; but can any thing palliate such an act, or remove the disgrace attending it?
(K.) Part of Napoleon’s plan of Campaign was that the Bavarian army, stationed on the Danube, should act in concert with the army of Italy stationed in Illyria, and that their combined efforts should be directed upon Vienna. The important effect which these measures must have produced on the fate of the Campaign may be easily conceived. But the chief of the Bavarian army, under some pretence or other, but in reality because he had entered into an understanding with the enemy, remained constantly inactive, and thus paralyzed the efforts of the Viceroy, who had to oppose the great bulk of the Austrian force. It has already been stated that the open defection of the Bavarians, at the most critical moment of the campaign, mainly contributed to bring about our disasters.
(L.) But nothing equalled the infamous and disgraceful treachery of the Saxons, who, though they were then serving in our ranks and were our companions in danger and glory, suddenly turned against us. Whatever might be the fatal effects of their desertion, the disgrace attached to themselves is greater than all the mischief they occasioned to us.
The conduct of Napoleon during this period, when he was described as a monster of deception and bad faith, presents, on the contrary, an example of singular magnanimity.
He had added a corps of Saxons to his Imperial guard; but, on the desertion of their countrymen, he ranged them round their Sovereign, whom he left at Leipsic,[[19]] releasing him from all his engagements. There were also some Bavarians in his army, and he wrote to their chief, informing him that, Bavaria having disloyally declared war against him, this circumstance would authorize him in disarming and detaining prisoners all the Bavarians in his service; but that such a measure would destroy the confidence which Napoleon wished that the troops under his orders should repose in him. He therefore ordered them to be supplied with provisions, and dismissed.[[20]]
(M.) I have before me the notes of a distinguished officer relative to the capitulation of Dresden. Estimating the number of troops which we had left behind us in the fortresses from which we were separated, he concludes that they must have amounted altogether to 177,000. The Emperor had but 157,000 men at Leipsic. How different, therefore, might have been our fate, had those masses, or even a portion of them, been at his disposal in this decisive event. But this unfortunate dispersion was occasioned by extraordinary circumstances, and was not the result of any regular system. The following particulars, relative to the violation of the capitulation of Dresden, are literally quoted from the notes above alluded to:—
“Above all, it is necessary to understand that it was determined in the plan of the coalition against France, of which Prince Schwartzenberg had the credit, that according as offers were made for the capitulation of each of our numerous garrisons, the conditions should be fairly and honourably granted, but without any intention of fulfilling them. This point being established, the reason of the refusal of the capitulation, signed at Dresden by Marshal St.-Cyr and Generals Tolstoy and Klenau, was, that Prince Schwartzenberg could not ratify it, because the Count de Lobau, Napoleon’s aide-de-camp, who was shut up in Dresden with the Marshal, had protested against the capitulation. Some time after, the capitulation of Dantzick, with General Rapp, was declined, under the odiously false pretence that the garrison of Dresden, in spite of the conditions of its capitulation, had entered into service immediately on its arrival at Strasburg, and that, in consequence, the capitulation of Dantzick could not be approved without incurring the risk of similar inconveniences.
“The following is an additional proof of the bad faith of the Allies. The garrison of Dresden, which was composed of two corps d’armée, forming altogether 45,000 men, capitulated on the 11th of November.[[21]]
“According to the terms of the capitulation, the French were to evacuate the fortress in six columns and in six successive days, and to repair to Strasburgh.
“This capitulation was fulfilled, so far at least as regarded our evacuation of the fortress and its occupation by the enemy; but our sixth column had scarcely made a day’s march from the town when it was announced that the capitulation was declined and rejected by the General-in-chief, Prince Schwartzenberg, by an order of the 19th of November.
“When Marshal Saint-Cyr remonstrated against this conduct, it was proposed, by way of compensation for the injustice, that he should be permitted to re-enter Dresden with his troops, and be again placed in possession of all the means of defence which he had before the capitulation: this was merely a piece of irony.
“In vain did the Marshal negotiate for the literal fulfilment of the articles agreed upon by Count Klenau, who had full powers for so doing; the unfortunate garrison, broken up and dispersed, was under the necessity of repairing to the different cantonments that were assigned to it in Bohemia, instead of pursuing its march towards the Rhine.
“The Marshal, indignant at this flagrant breach of faith, despatched a superior officer to communicate the circumstance to Napoleon; but the Allies retarded his progress under various pretences, and he did not reach Paris until the 18th of December. Subsequent events had by this time rendered the evil past all remedy.”
After the series of deceptions and perfidies which I have here disclosed, and which the Allies had established as a system, it is not surprising that Napoleon should have placed no reliance on the famous declaration of Frankfort, and that he should have felt indignant at the blindness of our Legislative Body, the committee of which, either from evil designs or mistaken views, completed the ruin of affairs. Napoleon assured me that he was several times on the point of summoning the members of this committee before him, in order to consult with them confidentially and sincerely on the real state of things, and the imminent danger with which we were threatened. Sometimes he thought that he should undoubtedly bring them back to a right sense of their duty; sometimes, on the contrary, he feared that obstinacy of opinion, or mischievous intention, might have involved the affair in controversy, which, considering the spirit of the moment, would have weakened our resources and hastened our dissolution.
The Emperor frequently adverted to this critical point in the destinies of France; but I have hitherto refrained from entering upon the detail of a subject which presents nothing either agreeable or consolatory.
BENEVOLENT ACTIONS PERFORMED BY THE EMPEROR.—HIS VISIT TO AMSTERDAM.—OBSERVATIONS ON THE DUTCH, &C.—THE MASSACRES OF THE THIRD OF SEPTEMBER.—REMARKS ON REVOLUTIONS IN GENERAL.—UNHAPPY FATE OF LOUIS XVI.
3rd. About three o’clock, the Emperor sent for me to attend him in his chamber. He had just finished dressing; and, as it was raining at the time, he went into the drawing-room, where he communicated to me some very curious particulars, which, as it may be supposed, concerned him, and in which I played a conspicuous part.
Some time afterwards the Emperor took a turn on the lawn contiguous to his library; but, finding the wind very violent, he soon returned to the house and played at billiards, a thing which he very seldom thought of doing.
In the course of the day, the Emperor related that, as he was once travelling with the Empress, he stopped to breakfast in one of the islands in the Rhine. There was a small farm house in the neighbourhood, and while he was at breakfast he sent for the peasant to whom it belonged, and desired him to ask boldly for whatever he thought would render him happy; and, in order to inspire him with the greater confidence, the Emperor made him drink several glasses of wine. The peasant, who was more prudent and less limited in his choice than the man described in the story of the three wishes, without hesitation specified the object which he was ambitious to possess. The Emperor commanded the prefect of the district immediately to provide him with what he had made choice of, and the expense attending the gratification of his wish did not exceed 6 or 7000 francs.
Napoleon added that, on another occasion, when he was sailing in a yacht in Holland, he entered into conversation with the steersman, and asked him how much his vessel was worth. “My vessel!” said the man, “it is not mine; I should be too happy if it were, it would make my fortune.”—“Well, then,” said the Emperor, “I make you a present of it;” a favour for which the man seemed not particularly grateful. His indifference was imputed to the phlegmatic temperament natural to his countrymen; but this was not the case. “What benefit has he conferred on me?” said he to one of his comrades who was congratulating him; “he has spoken to me, and that is all; he has given me what was not his own to give—a fine present truly!” In the mean time Duroc had purchased the vessel of the owner, and the receipt was put into the hands of the steersman, who, no longer doubting the reality of his good fortune, indulged in the most extravagant demonstrations of joy. The expense of this purchase was about the same as that attending the present made to the countryman. “Thus,” said the Emperor, “it is evident that human wishes are not so immoderate as they are generally supposed, and that it is not so very difficult to render people happy! These two men undoubtedly found themselves completely happy.”
When the Emperor visited Amsterdam, the people, he said, were very hostile to him; but he soon completely ingratiated himself in the public favour. He declined being attended by any other guard than the guard of honour belonging to the city; and this mark of confidence immediately gained him the esteem of the Dutch. He constantly appeared among every class of citizens. On one occasion he addressed a crowd of people in the following blunt manner:—“It is said that you are discontented—but why? France has not conquered, but adopted, you: you are excluded from no benefits which are enjoyed by the French; you are a portion of the same family, and participate in all its advantages. Consider now: I have selected my Prefects, Chamberlains, and Councillors of State from amongst you in a just proportion to the amount of your population, and I have augmented my guard with your Dutch guard. You complain of distress; but, in this respect, France has still greater reason to be dissatisfied. We all suffer, and we must continue to do so until the common enemy, the tyrant of the sea, the vampire of your trade, shall be brought to reason. You complain of the sacrifices you have made; but come to France and see all that you still possess beyond what we do, and then, perhaps, you will deem yourselves less unfortunate. Why not rather[rather] congratulate yourselves on the circumstances that have brought about your union with France. In the present state of Europe, what would you be, if left to yourselves?—The slaves of all the world. Instead of which, identified as you are with France, you will one day possess the whole trade of the great Empire.” Then, assuming a tone of gaiety, he said:—“I have done every thing in my power to please you. Have I not sent you as a Governor precisely the man who suits you—the good and pacific Lebrun. You condole with him, he condoles with you: you bewail your distresses together. What more could I do for you?” At these words the assembly burst into a loud fit of laughter. The Emperor had secured the good graces of the multitude.—“However,” said he, “let us hope that the present state of things will not last long. Believe me, I am as anxious for a change as you can be. Every man of discernment among you must be aware that it is neither my wish, nor for my interest, that matters should remain as they now are.”
The Emperor left the people of Amsterdam full of enthusiasm for him; and he, on his part, carried away impressions decidedly in their favour. Previously to his journey he had often complained that whosoever he sent to Holland immediately became a Dutchman. After his return, that circumstance occurred to his recollection in the Council of State, and he said that he had himself become a Dutchman. One day, when a member of the Council spoke slightingly of the Dutch, the Emperor said, “Gentlemen, you may be more agreeable than they; but I can wish you nothing better than to be possessed of their moral qualities.”
After dinner, some one happened to mention the date of the day, the 3rd of September; upon which the Emperor made some very remarkable observations; among which were the following:—“This,” said he, “is the anniversary of horrid and appalling executions, of a repetition, in miniature, of Saint-Bartholomew’s day: less disgraceful, certainly, because fewer victims were sacrificed, and because the atrocities were not committed under the sanction of the Government, which, on the contrary, used its endeavours to punish the crime. It was committed by the mob of Paris; an unbridled power, which rivalled, and even controlled, the Legislature.
“The atrocities of the 3rd of September were the result of fanaticism rather than of absolute brutality: the authors of the massacres put to death one of their own party, for having committed theft during the executions. This dreadful event,” continued the Emperor, “arose out of the force of circumstances and the spirit of the moment. No political change ever takes place unattended by popular fury; the people are never exposed to danger, without committing disorders and sacrificing victims. The Prussians entered the French territory; and the people, before they advanced to meet them, resolved to take revenge on their adherents in Paris. Probably, this circumstance was not without its influence on the safety of France. Who can doubt that if, during recent events, the friends of the invaders had been the victims of similar horrors, France would have fallen under the yoke of foreigners? But this could not have happened, for we had become legitimate. The duration of authority, our victories, our treaties, the re-establishment of our old manners, had rendered our government regular. We could not plunge into the same horrors as had been committed by the multitude; for my part, I neither could nor would be a King of the mob.
“No social revolution ever takes place unaccompanied by violence. Every revolution of this kind is at first merely a revolt. Time and success alone can exalt and render it legitimate; but still it can never be brought about without outrage. If people enjoying authority and fortune are required to relinquish these advantages, they of course resist: force is then resorted to; they are compelled to yield. In France this point was gained by the lantern and public executions. The reign of terror commenced on the 4th of August, with the abolition of titles of nobility, tithes, and feudal rights, the wrecks of which were scattered among the multitude, who then, for the first time, understood and felt really interested in the Revolution. Before this period there was so much of dependence and religious spirit among the people that many doubted whether the crops would ripen as usual without the King and the tithes.
“A revolution,” concluded the Emperor, “is one of the greatest evils by which mankind can be visited. It is the scourge of the generation by which it is brought about; and all the advantages it procures cannot make amends for the misery with which it embitters the lives of those who participate in it. It enriches the poor, who still remain dissatisfied; and it impoverishes the rich, who cannot forget their downfal. It subverts every thing; and, at its commencement, brings misery to all and happiness to none.
“Beyond a doubt, true social happiness consists in the harmony and the peaceful possession of the relative enjoyments of each class of people. In regular and tranquil times, every individual has his share of felicity: the cobbler in his stall is as content as the King on his throne; the soldier is not less happy than the general. The best-founded revolutions, at the outset, bring universal destruction in their train; the advantages they may produce are reserved for a future age. Ours seems to have been an irresistible fatality: it was a moral eruption, which could no more be prevented than a physical eruption. When the chemical combinations necessary to produce the latter are complete, it bursts forth: in France the moral combinations which produce a revolution had arrived at maturity, and the explosion accordingly took place.”
We asked the Emperor whether he thought it would have been possible to suppress the Revolution in its birth; and he replied that, if not impossible, the attempt would at least have been difficult. “Perhaps,” said he “the storm might have been laid or averted by some great Machiavelian act; by striking with one hand the great ringleaders, and with the other making concessions to the nation, granting freely the reformation required by the age, part of which had already been mentioned in the famous royal sitting. And yet, after all,” he observed, “this would only have been guiding and directing the Revolution.” He thought that some other plan of the same kind might perhaps have succeeded on the 10th of August, if the King had remained triumphant. “These two periods,” he said, were the only ones which afforded any chance, however desperate; for, at the affair of Versailles, the people had not yet entirely shaken off their allegiance, and on the 10th of August they were already beginning to be tired of disorder. But those who were chiefly interested in quelling the revolutionary spirit were not adequate to encounter the difficulties of the moment.”
The Emperor then rapidly ran over the series of errors committed during this period. “The line of conduct then pursued,” said he, “was truly pitiable. Louis XVI. should have had a prime minister, and M. Necker under him in the finance department. Prime ministers seem to have been invented for the last reigns of the French monarchy; and yet the prevailing false notions and vanity of the time caused them to be dispensed with.”
A great deal was said respecting the equivocal conduct of several great personages during this critical period, and the Emperor said: “We condemn Louis XVI.; but, independently of his weakness, he was placed in peculiar circumstances. He was the first monarch on whom the experiment of modern principles was tried. His education, his innate ideas, led him to believe sincerely that all that he defended, either openly or secretly, belonged to him of right. There might be a sort of honesty even in his want of faith, if I may so express myself. At a subsequent period, the same conduct would have been inexcusable, and even reprehensible. Add to all this that Louis XVI. had every body against him, and one may form an idea of the innumerable difficulties which Fate had accumulated on that unhappy Prince. The misfortunes of the Stuarts, which have excited such deep interest, were not more severe.”
THE BODY-GUARD OF THE KING OF FRANCE.—A DESERTER
IN THE EMPEROR’S SUITE.
4th.—The Emperor sent for me after he had finished his breakfast. He was stretched on a sofa, with several books scattered about him. He wore his nightcap, and looked pale. “Las Cases,” said he, “I am unwell. I have been looking over a great many books, but I can find nothing to interest me. I feel wearied.” He fixed his eye on me; that eye, naturally so animated, was now dim, and its expression told me more than his eye had uttered. “Sit down,” said he, pointing to a chair that was beside him, loaded with books, “and let us chat.” He spoke of the Island of Elba, of the life he had led there, of some visits which he had received, &c. He then put some questions to me concerning Paris and the French Court during the corresponding period. The conversation having led to the mention of the King’s body-guard, some one present remarked, as a curious circumstance, that there was a deserter from the guard in Napoleon’s suite at St. Helena. “How? explain yourself,” said the Emperor.—“Sire,” continued the person who had just spoken, “at the time of the restoration, one of the captains of the guard, for whom I entertained great friendship, and who, in spite of the difference of our opinions, had always evinced a high regard for me, proposed to enter my son in his company, assuring me that he would treat him as though he were his own. I replied that he was too young, and that the appointment might retard the progress of his education; but my friend silenced all my objections. I however requested some time to consider of the matter; and on my mentioning it to some persons of my acquaintance, they were astonished that I should have declined so good an offer, and assured me that in a short time my son might attain great advancement, without any interruption of his education. I then waited on the captain of the guard, and acknowledged that I had not shewn myself sufficiently grateful for his offer; and he replied that he was fully aware I had not understood the extent of the advantage he proposed to me. However, by one circumstance or another, your Majesty returned before my son had the honour of being presented to his colonel, and as I took him from his Lyceum on our departure for St. Helena, he is clearly and truly a deserter.” The Emperor laughed heartily and said; “This is another effect of revolutions! What new interests, connexions, and opinions do they create! It is fortunate when they do not disunite families, and set the best friends at variance with each other.” He then began to question me concerning my family, and concluded by saying, “I saw in Alphonse de Beauchamp’s work, your name mentioned among the individuals who, on the 30th of March, endeavoured to excite demonstrations in favour of the Royal Family in the Place Louis XV. I know it was not you; I think you once explained the matter to me, but I have forgotten the particulars.”—“Sire,“ said I, “it was a cousin of mine, of the same name. The circumstance vexed me a good deal at the time; I inserted contradictions in the journals; and it was rather droll that my cousin, on his part, addressed letters to the public prints, desiring that he might be particularly specified as the individual alluded to. I believe that the general way in which the name was introduced, in Alphonse de Beauchamp’s work, was kindly meant on the part of the author, who wished, by this means, to afford me an opportunity of ingratiating myself in the favour of the ruling party, if I had a mind to do so. I must do my cousin the justice to say that, when I obtained an appointment about your Majesty’s person, I several times offered to solicit for him a post in your household or elsewhere; but this he constantly declined. I wish he may now enjoy the reward of his fidelity.” The Emperor again repeated that all private interests were subverted by revolutions. “And it is these private wounds,” said he, “which occasion the general ferment, and render the shocks so acute and violent.”
The weather was so bad the whole of the day that it was impossible to go out. The Emperor dismissed me and sent for General Gourgaud, to whom he dictated in his library, from two to six o’clock, almost the whole of Moreau’s campaign during the Consulate. After dinner, he read to us Madame de Maintenon’s celebrated sumptuary letter to her brother, in which she fixes her household expenditure at six thousand francs a-year. The Emperor had several volumes of the Grands Hommes brought to him, and, after perusing some articles, he amused himself by looking at the outline portraits at the end of each volume.
NAPOLEON’S REPROOFS, &C. THE GOVERNOR BARGAINS
FOR OUR EXISTENCE.
5th.—To-day, in the course of my morning conversation with the Emperor, I happened to mention some acts of oppression and injustice, which excited dissatisfaction in the public mind, and rendered him unpopular, because they were executed in his name, and were by many supposed to emanate from him. “But how?” said he, “was there no one among the multitude that surrounded me, none of my chamberlains, who had sufficient spirit and independence to complain and bring these matters to my knowledge? I would have rendered justice wherever it had been withheld.”—“Sire, few would have ventured to call your attention to these things.”—“Did you really stand so much in awe of me? I suppose you dreaded my sharp rebuffs; but you ought to have known that I always lent a ready ear to every one, and that I never refused to administer justice. You should have balanced the reward of the good action against the danger of the reprimand. After all, I confess that my reproofs were in most instances the result of calculation. They were frequently the only means I possessed of learning a man’s temper, of discovering by stealth the different shades of his character. I had little time for inquiry; and a reprimand was one of my experiments. For example, I lately gave you a repulse, and this enabled me to discover that you were somewhat headstrong, extremely susceptible, sufficiently candid, but sullen; and, I may say, too sensitive,” he added, pinching my ear. “I was,” continued he, “obliged to surround myself, as it were, with a halo of fear; otherwise, having risen as I did from amidst the multitude, many would have made free to eat out of my hand, or to slap me on the shoulder. We are naturally inclined to familiarity.”
The weather continued very bad, and the Emperor spent the chief part of the day in writing, as he did yesterday.
The Governor has renewed his cavilling on the subject of our supplies, descending into petty details about a few bottles of wine, or a few pounds of meat. Instead of eight thousand pounds, the sum fixed by Government, he now applied for an allowance of twelve thousand, which he himself declared to be indispensable; but he insisted on having the surplus delivered into his own hands, or subjecting us to great retrenchments. He bargained for our existence. When this was mentioned to the Emperor he replied that the Governor might do as he pleased; but he desired, at all events, that he might not be troubled about the business.
In the evening the conversation again turned on Madame de Maintenon, and the Emperor made many remarks on her letters, her character, her influence on the affairs of her time, &c. He asked for the Historical Dictionary to read the articles on the Noailles family; and he retired to rest at eleven o’clock.
CONFIDENTIAL CONVERSATION.—THE LETTERS OF MADAME
DE MAINTENON AND SEVIGNÉ.
6th.—The weather proved as bad as it had been on the preceding day. After finishing his toilet, the Emperor retired to his library, attended by one of his suite, with whom he held a long confidential conversation on a topic intimately concerning us.
“We have now,” said he, “been at St. Helena more than a year, and with regard to certain points we remain just as we were on the first day of our arrival. I must confess that I have hitherto come to no determination in my own mind upon these subjects. This is very unlike me; but how many mortifications have I to encounter! A victim to the persecutions of Fate and man, I am assailed every where and on all hands. Even you, my faithful friends and consolers, help to lacerate the wound. I am vexed and distressed by your jealousies and dissensions.”—“Sire,” replied the individual to whom he addressed himself, “these things should remain unnoticed by your Majesty. In all that concerns you, our jealousy is merely emulation; and all our dissension ceases on the expression of your slightest wish. We live only for you, and will always be ready to obey you. To us you are the Old Man of the Mountain; you may command us in all things, except crime.”—“Well,” said the Emperor, “I will think seriously of the subject I have just alluded to, and each shall have his own particular task.” He dictated a few notes, and afterwards went down to the garden, where he walked about for a short time alone, and then withdrew to his own apartment.
The Emperor did not quit his chamber until the moment dinner was announced. He resumed his remarks on Madame de Maintenon, whose letters he had been reading. “I am charmed,” said he, “with her style, her grace, and the purity of her language. If I am violently offended by what is bad, I am at the same time exquisitely sensible to what is good. I think I prefer Madame de Maintenon’s letters to those of Madame de Sevigné: they tell more. Madame de Sevigné will certainly always remain the true model of the epistolary style; she has a thousand charms and graces, but there is this defect in her writings, that one may read a great deal of them without retaining any impression of what one has read. They are like trifles, which a man may eat till he is tired without overloading his stomach.”
The Emperor then made some observations on grammar. He asked for the grammar of Domairon, who had been our professor at the military school at Paris. He glanced through it with evident pleasure. “Such is the influence of youthful impressions,” said he; “I suspect that Domairon’s is not the best of grammars, yet to me it will always be the most agreeable. I shall never open it without experiencing a certain pleasure.”