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

by comte de Emmanuel-Auguste-Dieudonné Las Cases

SUMMARY OF JULY, AUGUST, SEPTEMBER, AND OCTOBER.—OF MR. O’MEARA’S WORK.—ACTION NOW BROUGHT AGAINST HIM BY SIR HUDSON LOWE.—A FEW WORDS IN DEFENCE OF THIS WORK.

The usual summary cannot henceforth be long; strictly speaking three sentences would suffice to trace it:

Incessant annoyance.

Absolute seclusion.

Infallible destruction.

The remainder of Napoleon’s existence will only be a cruel and prolonged agony.

It has already been seen that the arrival of a new Governor became for us the signal of the commencement of a life of misery. A few days had sufficed to unfold his disposition; and, soon afterwards, the annoyances and insults of which he made himself the instrument, or which he himself created, were carried to the highest pitch. He rendered us an object of terror to the inhabitants—he subjected us to the most cruel vexations—he forbade us to write, without a previous communication with him, even to those persons with whom he did not prevent us from conversing without restraint—he invited General Bonaparte to dine at his table, to shew him to a lady of rank who was for a short time on the island—he arrested one of our servants.

He now produces a despatch, in pursuance of which he endeavours to oblige the Emperor to go into “the meanest details of his wants,” as Napoleon expressed it, and to discuss them with him; he importunes the Emperor to give money which he does not possess; and, by dint of reductions in the common necessaries of life, obliges him to break up and sell his plate, determining at the same time, by his authority as Governor, the rate at which it is to be sold, and the person who is to purchase it. He ridiculously restricts us to one bottle of wine per head, including the Emperor. “He cheapens our existence,” said the Emperor; “he grudges me the air I breathe, and what he sends to us for our subsistence is sometimes, nay frequently, so bad that we are obliged to apply for provisions to the neighbouring camp!!” &c.

He lays a snare for Napoleon, and exults in the hope of being able to impart to him, personally and pompously, a communication which he calls a ministerial order, but which is so outrageous that he refuses to leave a copy of it; he prescribes to the Emperor the most absurd regulations; he capriciously, and with bitter irony, contracts the space of his usual limits; chalks out the trace of his footsteps; and even goes so far as to attempt to regulate the nature of his conversations and the tenour of his expressions; he surrounds us with trenches, palisadoes, and redoubts; he obliges each of us individually, in order to be allowed to remain with the Emperor, to sign a declaration that we submit to all these restrictions; he makes use of us as instruments to degrade the Emperor, by obliging us to call him Bonaparte, under pain of being immediately removed from his person and instantly sent out of the island, &c.

The Emperor, provoked by such disgraceful usage and such gratuitous insults, opens his mind without reserve to Sir Hudson Lowe; his words know no restraint; he frees himself for ever from his odious presence, and declares that he never will see him again. “The most unworthy proceeding of the English ministers,” said the Emperor to him, “is not to have sent me here, but to have delivered me into your hands. I complained of the admiral your predecessor; but he at least had a heart!... You are a disgrace to your nation, and your name will for ever be a stain upon its character!... This Governor,” the Emperor would frequently say to us, “has nothing of an Englishman in his composition; he is nothing but a worthless sbire of Sicily. I at first complained that a gaoler had been sent to me; but I now affirm that they have sent me an executioner,” &c.

I have recorded these expressions, and I might mention many more, however harsh they may be. 1st, Because I heard them uttered. 2dly, Because Napoleon used them in speaking to Sir Hudson Lowe in person, or caused them to be repeated to him. 3dly and lastly, Because they were deserved, on account of the arbitrary, oppressive, and brutal manner, in which the Governor, to the great scandal of the English themselves who were on the spot, and who then manifested their disgust at his conduct, abused the power with which he was invested in the name of a Nation so eminently distinguished all over the globe, of a Prince so universally respected in Europe, and of a Cabinet in which there were still some honourable characters, men personally known by their moderation and their elegant manners.

The vexations by which Napoleon was assailed were incessant; they pursued him at every moment of his existence. Not a day passed without the infliction of a fresh wound; and one of the torments recorded in fabulous history may be said to have been thus realized.

Ah! if, during that period of affliction for so many generous hearts, the Genius of Europe, the Genius of Truth, and the Genius of History, have ever turned even involuntarily towards St. Helena, and the great Napoleon; if they have sought for him in that island which they thought it would be right to attempt, at least, to turn into a kind of Elysium for him; what must have been their indignation to see him, in the bright glory of so many immortal actions, chained like Prometheus to a rock, and, like him, under the claws of a vulture, which delights in tearing him to pieces!!! O infamy! O eternal disgrace!...

During this period the Emperor’s health has been constantly and considerably declining; his body, which was thought so robust, which had endured so many toils, and withstood so much fatigue, supported by victory and glory, was now bending under the weight of infirmities prematurely brought on by the injustice of men. Almost every day he is attacked by some new indisposition; fever, swelled face, symptoms of scurvy, constant colds; his features are altered, his gait becomes heavy, his legs swelled, &c.... Our hearts were torn in seeing him thus hastening towards infallible destruction; all our cares are in vain.

He had long since given up riding on horseback, and by degrees, also, he almost entirely relinquished his rides in the calash. Even walking became a rare occurrence, and he was thus nearly reduced to a strict seclusion in his apartments. He no longer applied to any regular or continued occupation; he seldom dictated to us, and only upon subjects that were merely the fancy of the moment. He spent the greatest part of the day alone in his room, busied in turning over a few books, or rather doing nothing. Let those who have formed a due estimate of the power of his faculties appreciate the strength of mind required to enable him to bear, with equanimity, the intolerable burden of a life so wearisome and monotonous; for, in our presence, he always exhibited the same serenity of countenance and equality of temper. His mind appeared equally unembarrassed; his conversation offered the same lively turns of expression, and he was sometimes even inclined to mirth and humour; but, in the privacy of intimate intercourse, it was easy to perceive that he no longer thought of the future, meditated on the past, or cared about the present. He merely yielded a passive obedience to the physical laws of Nature, and, thoroughly disgusted with life, he perhaps secretly sighed for the moment which was to put an end to it.

Such was the state of affairs when I was forcibly removed from Longwood; for that period approaches—it is not far distant.

I have not noted down in the course of my Journal every minute circumstance of our quarrels with the Governor, or the numerous official communications that were exchanged between us. I have also omitted to mention all the shameful privations to which we were exposed, in respect to the necessaries and comforts of life. My object has been to show Napoleon’s character in its true light, and not to write the history of Longwood, and the catalogue of its miseries. Those who have any curiosity on that score may seek for details in the work of Mr. O’Meara. It would have argued meanness in me, who was one of the victims, had I dwelt upon them; but for the Doctor, who was only a witness, who was a stranger to us, and in some degree one of the adverse party, he can only, situated as he is, have been actuated in so doing by the impulse of a powerful feeling, and of generous indignation, which does honour to his heart.

I have just heard (1824) that the late governor of St. Helena has brought an action against Mr. O’Meara for defamation and calumny. I have the highest respect for the Judges who preside over the principal courts of justice in England, because I know how they are composed; but how can one, in these days, be certain of the result of such an action? In the unfortunate political effervescence of our times, truth appears, as it were, in two lights at the same time; the true light is, for every individual, that which exists in his own heart; for, after all, it is impossible to impose upon one’s self, and that reflection will, no doubt, be a motive of consolation to Mr. O’Meara, whatever the result may be. And I must here declare that all the facts which I have seen stated in Mr. O’Meara’s work, on the above-mentioned points, and which fell under my knowledge while I was at St. Helena, are strictly true; and thence I naturally conclude, by analogy, that the remainder, which I have not seen, is also true. I, therefore, do not hesitate to say that I consider it as such in my heart and conscience.

Whilst writing this, I have received from Sir Hudson Lowe some extracts of confidential letters which, he informs me, he received at the time from Mr. O’Meara, in which, he observes to me, O’Meara spoke of me in a very improper manner, and made secret reports to him respecting me. What can have been the intention of Sir Hudson Lowe in acting thus with me? Considering the terms on which we are together, he cannot have been prompted by a very tender interest. Did he wish to prove to me that Mr. O’Meara acted as a spy for him upon us? Did he hope so far to prepossess me against him as to influence the nature and the force of my testimony in favour of his adversary? And, after all, are these letters in their original state? have they not been altered after the fashion of St. Helena? But, even supposing their meaning to be true and explicit, in what respect can they offend me? What claim had I then on Mr. O’Meara’s indulgence? what right had I to expect it? It is true that, at a later period, after his return to Europe, seeing him persecuted and punished on account of the humanity of his conduct towards Napoleon, I wrote to him to express my heartfelt gratitude, and to offer him an asylum in my family, should injustice compel him to leave his own country; that he was welcome to share with me. But at St. Helena I hardly knew him, and I do not believe that I spoke to him ten times during my residence at Longwood. I considered him as being opposed to me by nation, by opinions, and by interest: such was the nature of my connexion with Mr. O’Meara. He was, therefore, entirely at liberty with respect to me: he might then write whatever he thought proper, and it cannot now vary the opinion which I have since formed of him. Sir Hudson Lowe intends now to insinuate that Mr. O’Meara was a double and a triple spy at the same moment, viz. for the Government, for Napoleon, and for him, Sir Hudson Lowe; but does that disprove the truth and destroy the authenticity of the facts mentioned in his book? On the contrary. And from which of the three parties could he expect to be rewarded for revealing these facts to the public? Napoleon is no more; he can expect nothing from him: and his publication has rendered the two others his bitter enemies, who have deprived him of his situation, and threaten to disturb his repose; for his real crime, in their eyes, is the warm zeal, which he has displayed, of a friend to the laws and to decorum; who, indignant at the mean and indecorous vexations to which Napoleon had been exposed, drags the true authors of them to light, in order to exculpate his country. I have, therefore, considered this tardy communication of the confidential letters which Sir Hudson Lowe has just transmitted to me, at the moment of his action against O’Meara, as a kind of interested accusation, which every one will qualify as he thinks proper. I have never even acknowledged the receipt of these letters; and still less have I ever thought of complaining of their contents.

NAPOLEON’S VIEWS AND INTENTIONS WITH RESPECT TO
THE RUSSIAN WAR.—OFFICIAL INSTRUCTIONS.

Friday, Oct. 25.—I attended the Emperor at his toilette. The weather was tolerably fine, and he went out, and walked as far as the wood. He was very feeble; for it was now ten days since he had stirred out. He felt a weakness in his knees; and remarked, that he should soon be obliged to lean on me for support.

Passing to other topics, he made many observations on the Russian war. Among other things he said: “That war should have been the most popular of any in modern times. It was a war of good sense and true interests; a war for the repose and security of all; it was purely pacific and preservative; entirely European and continental. Its success would have established a balance of power and would have introduced new combinations, by which the dangers of the present time would have been succeeded by future tranquillity. In this case, ambition had no share in my views. In raising Poland, which was the key-stone of the whole arch, I would have permitted a King of Prussia, an Archduke of Austria, or any other to occupy the throne. I had no wish to obtain any new acquisition; and I reserved for myself only the glory of doing good, and the blessings of posterity. Yet this undertaking failed, and proved my ruin, though I never acted more disinterestedly, and never better merited success. As if popular opinion had been seized with contagion, in a moment, a general outcry, a general sentiment, arose against me. I was proclaimed the destroyer of kings—I, who had created them! I was denounced as the subverter of the rights of nations—I, who was about to risk all to secure them! And people and kings, those irreconcileable enemies, leagued together and conspired against me! All the acts of my past life were now forgotten. I said, truly, that popular favour would return to me with victory; but victory escaped me, and I was ruined. Such is mankind, and such is my history; but both people and kings will have cause to regret me; and my memory will be sufficiently avenged for the injustice committed upon me: that is certain.”

If certain passages in the above conversation of Napoleon should require illustration or proof, these will be found in the following letter. The document is highly valuable on account of its date and contents; for the motives and views of the Russian expedition are here developed by Napoleon at the moment when he was about to embark in the enterprise. The vulgar were certainly far from comprehending or rendering justice to his intentions; I say the vulgar, for it is just to remark that, among statesmen and men of foresight and extended views, the Russian war was very popular. They disapproved of the moment at which it was undertaken; but they fully appreciated all the grand designs of the Emperor.

INSTRUCTIONS GIVEN TO M—--, TO SERVE AS HIS
GUIDE IN THE MISSION WHICH HE WILL HAVE TO
FULFIL IN POLAND. (APRIL 18, 1812.)

“Sir,—The high opinion which the Emperor entertains of your fidelity and talent induces him to advance you so far in his confidence, as to intrust you with a mission of the utmost political interest. This mission will require activity, prudence, and discretion.

“You are to proceed to Dresden. The ostensible object of your journey will be to present to the King of Saxony a letter, which the Emperor will deliver to you to-morrow after his levee. His Imperial and Royal Majesty has already acquainted you with his intentions; he will communicate to you verbally his final instructions respecting the overtures which you are to make to the King of Saxony.

“It is the Emperor’s intention that the King of Saxony should be treated with all the consideration to which he is entitled, from the particular esteem which his Majesty entertains for him personally. You will explain yourself both to the King and his Ministers, with unreserved candour; and you will give credit to the hints you may receive from the Count de St. Pilsac.

“With respect to Saxony, there will be no sacrifice without compensation.

“Saxony attaches but little importance to the sovereignty of the Duchy of Warsaw, as it now exists: it is a precarious and troublesome possession. The sovereignty of that fragment of Poland places Saxony in a false position with regard to Prussia, Austria, and Russia. You will develop these ideas, and treat this question in the way in which it was discussed in your presence, in his Majesty’s closet, on the 17th. You will find the cabinet of Dresden not much inclined to oppose you; its diplomacy has presented to us the same observations, on several previous occasions. The matter in question is not the dismemberment of the dominions of the King of Saxony.

“After a short stay at Dresden, you will announce your departure for Warsaw; where you will await new orders from the Emperor.

“His Imperial Majesty begs that the King of Saxony will accredit you to his Polish Ministers.

“At Warsaw, you will concert your measures with Prince ...., the Emperor’s chamberlain, and with General ..... These two persons, who are descended from the most illustrious Polish families, have promised to exercise the influence they possess among their fellow citizens, to induce them to exert every effort for securing the happiness and independence of their country. You must communicate to the government of the Grand Duchy an impulse calculated to prepare the great changes which the Emperor proposes to make in favour of the Polish nation.

“It is necessary that the Poles should second the designs of the Emperor, and co-operate in their own regeneration. They must consider France only as an auxiliary power.

“The Emperor is aware of the difficulties he will have to encounter, in his endeavours to bring about the re-establishment of Poland. That great political work will oppose the apparent and immediate interests of his allies.

“The re-establishment of Poland, by the arms of the French Empire, is a hazardous and even a perilous enterprise, in which France will have to contend against her friends as well as her enemies. We will enter into a few details on this point.

“The object which the Emperor has in view is the organization of Poland, with the whole or a portion of her old territory; and he wishes, if possible, to effect this object without engaging in war. In furtherance of this design, his Majesty has granted very extensive powers to his ambassador at St. Petersburg: he has sent to Vienna a negotiator, authorized to treat with the principal powers, and to offer great sacrifices in territory, on the part of the French Empire, by way of indemnity for the cessions to be made for the re-establishment of the kingdom of Poland.

“Europe consists of three great divisions: in the west, the French Empire; in the centre, the German States; and in the east, the Russian Empire. England can have no more influence on the continent than the Powers think fit to allow her.

“A strong organization of the centre will be necessary as a precautionary measure, lest Russia or France should one day, in order to extend their power, attempt to gain the supremacy in Europe. The French Empire is now in the enjoyment of the full energy of her existence: if she does not, at this moment, complete the political constitution of Europe, to-morrow she may lose the advantages of her situation, and fail in her enterprises.

“The conversion of Prussia into a military state, the reign and conquests of Frederick the Great, the opinions of the age, and those of the French revolution, have annihilated the Germanic Confederation. The Confederation of the Rhine is only part of a provisional system. The Princes who have been gainers would probably wish for the consolidation of that system; but those who have been losers, the people, who have suffered from the calamities of war, and the states which dread the too great increase of the French power, will seize every opportunity of opposing the maintenance of the Rhinish Confederation. Even the Princes who have been aggrandized by the new system will seek to withdraw themselves from it, as soon as time shall establish them in the possessions they have obtained. France will, in the end, find herself deprived of a protectorate, which, certainly, she will have purchased by too many sacrifices.

“The Emperor is of opinion that, ultimately, at a period which cannot be far distant, it will be proper to restore the states of Europe to their complete independence.

“The House of Austria, which possesses three extensive kingdoms, must be the soul of this independence, on account of the topographical situation of its States; but it must not be the ruling power. In case of a rupture between the two Empires of France and Russia, if the Confederation of the intermediate Powers were actuated by one and the same impulse, the ruin of one of the contending parties would necessarily ensue. The French Empire would be more exposed to danger than the Russian Empire.

“The centre of Europe must be composed of states unequal in power, and each possessing its own peculiar system of policy. These states, from their situation and political relations, will seek support in the protection of the preponderating powers; and they will be interested in the maintenance of peace, because they must always be the victims of war. With these views, after raising up new states and aggrandizing old ones, in order to fortify our system of alliance for the future, the establishment of Poland is an object of the utmost interest to the Emperor and to Europe. If the Kingdom of Poland be not restored, Europe will be without a frontier on that point; and Austria and Germany will be face to face with the most powerful Empire in the world.

“The Emperor foresees that Poland, like Prussia, will ultimately become the ally of Russia; but, if Poland should owe her restoration to France, the period of the union of the above-mentioned states will be sufficiently remote to afford time for the consolidation of the established order of things. Europe being thus organized, there will no longer be any cause of rivalry between France and Russia: these two Empires will have the same commercial interests, and will act in conformity with the same principles.

“Before the coolness with Prussia, the Emperor’s first intention was to form a solid alliance with the King of Prussia, and to place the crown of Poland on his head. There were then few obstacles to be surmounted: for Prussia was already in possession of one-third of Poland; Russia would have been left in possession of what she might have insisted on retaining; and indemnities would have been granted to Austria. But the progress of events occasioned the Emperor to alter his intentions.

“At the time of the negotiations of Tilsit, it was found necessary to create states precisely in those countries which most dreaded the power of France. The moment was favourable for the re-establishment of Poland, though it would have been the work of violence and force. The war must have been prolonged; the French army was suffering from cold and want; and Russia had armies on foot. The Emperor was touched by the generous sentiments which the Emperor Alexander manifested towards him. He experienced obstacles on the part of Austria; and he suffered his policy to be overruled by the desire of signing a peace, which he hoped to have rendered lasting, if, through the influence of Russia and Austria, England could have been prevailed on to consent to a general reconciliation.

“Prussia, after her reverses, manifested such a spirit of hatred towards France that it was deemed necessary to diminish her power. With this view, the Grand Duchy of Warsaw was created. It was placed under the dominion of the King of Saxony, a prince whose whole life had been devoted to the happiness of his subjects. Endeavours were made to conciliate the Poles, by the establishment of institutions agreeable to their tastes, and conformable with their manners and national character. But all was badly managed.

“Saxony, separated from her new possessions by Prussia, could not, with Poland, constitute a body sufficiently organized to become strong and powerful. The opening of a military road through the Prussian territory, to communicate between Saxony and Poland, greatly humbled the Prussians; and the Poles complained of disappointed hopes.

“The Emperor stipulated for the occupation of the fortresses of Prussia, in order to ensure the certainty that that power would not seek to re-kindle the torch of war. The campaign of 1809 proved the prudence of his policy. He adopted the firm resolution of labouring unremittingly to complete the system of organization in Europe, which was calculated to put a period to disastrous wars.

“The Emperor conceived that he must appear formidable, from the number of troops which he has marched towards the Vistula, and from the occupation of the fortresses of Prussia; measures which were necessary for ensuring the fidelity of his allies, and obtaining, by means of negotiations, what, perhaps, he can after all secure only by war.

“The dangers of the present circumstances are immense. The removal of armies to the distance of five hundred leagues from their native territory, cannot be unattended by risk; and Poland must rely as much on her own exertions as on the support of the Emperor. I once more repeat that, if war should ensue, the Poles must consider France only as an auxiliary, operating in aid of their own resources. Let them call to mind the time when, by their patriotism and courage, they resisted the numerous armies which assailed their independence.

“The people of the Grand Duchy wish for the re-establishment of Poland; it is for them to prepare the means by which the usurped provinces may be enabled to declare their wishes. The government of the Grand Duchy must, as soon as circumstances permit, combine, under the banner of independence, the dismembered fragments of their unfortunate country. Should it happen that any natives of Poland, under the dominion of Russia or Austria, shall refuse to return to the mother country, no attempt must be made to compel them to do so. Poland must derive her strength from her public spirit and patriotism, as well as from the institutions which will constitute the new social state.

“The object of your mission, therefore, is to enlighten, encourage, and direct the Polish patriots in their operations. You will render an account of your negotiations to the Minister for Foreign Affairs, who will acquaint the Emperor with your progress; and you will send me abstracts of your reports.

“The misfortunes and weakness of the Polish republic were occasioned by an aristocracy, which knew neither law nor restraint. At that period, as at present, the nobility were powerful; the citizens oppressed; and the great mass of the people nothing. But, even amidst these disorders, a love of liberty and independence prevailed in Poland, and long supported her feeble existence. These sentiments must have been strengthened by time and oppression. Patriotism is a feeling natural to the Poles; it exists even among members of the great families. The Emperor will fulfil, unconditionally, the promise he made, in Art. 25, of the treaty of the 9th of July, 1807, to govern the Grand Duchy by laws calculated to ensure the liberty and privileges of the people, and consistent with the tranquillity of the neighbouring states. Poland shall enjoy liberty and independence. As to the choice of her sovereign, that point will be decided by the treaty which his Majesty will sign with the other Powers. His Majesty lays no claim to the throne of Poland, either for himself or any of his family. In the great work of the restoration of Poland, he has only in view the happiness of the Poles and the tranquillity of Europe. His Majesty authorizes you to make this declaration; and to make it formally, whenever you conceive it may be useful for the interests of France and Poland.

“His Majesty has ordered me to transmit to you this note, and these instructions, in order that you may make them the subjects of conversation with the foreign ministers, who may be at Warsaw or Dresden.

“The Emperor has ordered notes to be forwarded to the Ministers of War and Foreign Affairs, of the Grand Duchy. Should pecuniary resources be wanted, his Majesty will assist the Polish treasury by assignments on the extraordinary domains, which he still possesses in Poland and Hanover.”

THE EMPEROR INDISPOSED.—ANECDOTES OF THE INTERIOR
OF THE TUILERIES.

26th.—I was informed that the Emperor was very unwell, and that he desired I would attend him. I found him in his chamber, with a handkerchief bound round his head; he was seated in an arm-chair, beside a great fire, which he had ordered to be kindled. “What,” said he, “is the severest disorder, the most acute pain, to which human nature is subject?” I replied, “That the pain of the present moment always appeared to be the most severe.”—“Then it is the tooth-ache,” said he. He had a violent secretion of saliva, and his right cheek was much swelled and inflamed. I was alone in attendance on him, and I alternately warmed a flannel and a napkin, which he kept constantly applied to the part affected, and he said he felt greatly relieved by it. He was also affected by a severe nervous cough, and occasional yawning and shivering, which denoted approaching fever.

“What a miserable thing is man!” said he, “the smallest fibre in his body, assailed by disease, is sufficient to derange his whole system! On the other hand, in spite of all the maladies to which he is subject, it is sometimes necessary to employ the executioner to put an end to him. What a curious machine is this earthly clothing! And, perhaps, I may be confined in it for thirty years longer!”

He attributed his tooth-ache to his late drive, as he had felt singularly affected by being out in the open air. “Nature is always the best counsellor,” said he; “I went out in spite of my inclination, and only in obedience to reason.”

The Doctor arrived, and he found that his patient manifested symptoms of fever. The Emperor spent the remainder of the day in his chamber, occasionally suffering severely from the tooth-ache. At intervals, when the pain abated, he walked up and down, between his armchair and the sofa, and conversed on different subjects.

At one time, he alluded to the base conduct of some of the persons who had been about him, during his power. A family, who were established in the interior of the palace, who had been loaded with benefits, and who, it may be added, behaved most disgracefully at the period of the catastrophe, were one day detected in some offence or other by the Emperor himself. He merely reproached them with their misconduct, instead of punishing them for it. “But what was the consequence?” said he, “this only served to irritate them, without affording a just example. When things are done by halves, they will always prove ineffectual. The fault must not be seen; or if seen, it must be punished,” &c.

He next mentioned a woman, who, together with her husband, held a very lucrative situation, and who was constantly complaining to him of her poverty. “She often wrote to me,” said the Emperor, “to ask for money, as though she had claims upon me; just as Madame Bertrand, or any of you might do, on your return from St. Helena.”

Alluding to a person who had behaved very ill to him in 1814, he said: “Probably you will suppose that he fled on my return? No such thing; on the contrary, I was beset by him. He very coolly acknowledged that he had felt a transient attachment for the Bourbons, for which, however, he assured me he had been severely punished. But this, he said, had served only to revive the natural affection which all so justly entertained for me. I spurned him from me; and I have good reason to believe, that he is now at the feet of the Royal family, relating all sorts of horrors about me. Poor human nature, always and everywhere alike!”

Finally, he mentioned a most infamous intrigue, which was set on foot by persons on whom he had lavished favours. These persons endeavoured to prevail on the Empress Josephine to sign a most degrading letter, under pretence of securing her a tranquil residence in France, but doubtless with the real purpose of gaining credit to themselves in another quarter. The letter, which was to have been addressed to the King, contained a disavowal of all that she had formerly been, and what she still was, together with a request that the King would provide for her as he pleased, &c. The Empress wept, and resisted the importunity, asked for time, and consulted the Emperor Alexander, who told her that such a letter would utterly disgrace her. He advised her to dismiss the meddling intriguers by whom she was surrounded; assured her that there was no intention of removing her from France, or disturbing her quiet in any way; and promised to be responsible for her himself in case of necessity.

In the evening, the Emperor felt better, and he enjoyed a little sleep. His countenance bore evident marks of the severe pain he had suffered.

THE EMPEROR CONTINUES INDISPOSED.—IMMORALITY
THE WORST FAULT IN A SOVEREIGN.

27th.—The Emperor passed the whole day beside the fire, sometimes reclining on his couch, and sometimes sitting in his arm-chair. He still suffered very much from head-ache and tooth-ache, and the secretion of saliva had not diminished. He again had recourse to warm flannel and napkins, by the use of which he had yesterday experienced a little relief. I warmed them, and applied them in the same manner as before. The Emperor appeared very sensible to the attentions I shewed him, and several times laying his hand on my shoulder, he said, “My dear Las Cases, you relieve me very much!” The pain subsided, and he slept for a short time; then, raising his eyes, he said to me, “Have I been long asleep? Are you not very much fatigued?” He called me his frère hospitalier, the knight hospitaller of St. Helena. But the pain soon returned with violence, and he sent for the Doctor, who found him feverish. He was seized with the chillness which had attacked him on the preceding day, and which obliged him to keep close to the fire.

He continued in the same state through the whole of the evening. About seven o’clock, he proposed going to bed. He would not eat anything; but he ordered his valet to toast some bread, and he himself made a little toast and water, in which he put some sugar and orange-flower-water.

In the course of the evening’s conversation, the following remarks fell from the Emperor. “Immorality,” said he, “is, beyond doubt, the worst of all faults in a Sovereign; because he introduces it as a fashion among his subjects, by whom it is practised for the sake of pleasing him. It strengthens every vice, blights every virtue, and infects all society like a pestilence: in short, it is the scourge of a nation. Public morality, on the contrary, added he, is the natural compliment of the laws: it is a whole code in itself.” He declared that the Revolution, in spite of all its horrors, had nevertheless been the true cause of the regeneration of morals in France, “as the noblest vegetation is the offspring of the filthiest manure.” He did not hesitate to affirm that his government would mark the memorable epoch of the return to morality. “We advanced at full sail,” said he; “but, doubtless, the catastrophes which have ensued will, in a great measure, turn all back; for, amidst so many vicissitudes and disorders, it is difficult to resist the various temptations that arise, the allurements of intrigue and cupidity, and the suggestions of venality. However, the rising impulse of improvement may be impeded and repressed, but not destroyed. Public morality belongs especially to the dominion of reason and information, of which it is the natural result; and reason and information cannot again retrograde. The scandalous turpitude of former ages, the double adulteries, and libertinism of the Regency, and the profligacy of the succeeding reign, cannot again be revived, unless the circumstances under which they existed should again return; and that is impossible. Before such a change can take place, the upper classes of society must again degenerate into a state of absolute idleness, so as to have no other occupation than licentiousness; the spirit of industry, which now animates and elevates the minds of people in the middle ranks, must be destroyed; and finally, the lower classes must be again plunged into that state of subjection and degradation which once reduced them to the level of mere beasts of burden. Now, all this is henceforth impossible: public morals are, therefore, on the rise; and it may be safely predicted that they will gradually improve all over the world.”

About nine o’clock, after the Emperor had retired to bed, he desired that all his suite might come to his apartment. The Grand Marshal and his lady were among the number. The Emperor conversed with us for half an hour; the curtains being drawn round his bed.

THE EMPEROR STILL UNWELL.—WANT OF MEDICINES.—SERVAN’S
GUERRES D’ITALIE.—MADAME DE MONTESSON.

28th.—When I rose in the morning, I felt ill, and wished to bathe my feet; but no water could be procured for that purpose. I mention this circumstance to afford an idea, if possible, of our real situation at Longwood. Water has always been very scarce here; but there is less now than ever, and we consider ourselves singularly fortunate when we are able to procure a bath for the Emperor. We are no better provided with other things necessary in medical treatment. Yesterday, the Doctor was mentioning, in the Emperor’s presence, drugs, instruments, and remedies of various kinds; but, as he enumerated each article, he added: “Unfortunately, there is none to be procured on the Island.”—“Then,” said the Emperor, “when they sent us hither, they took it for granted that we should be always well?” Indeed we are in want of the veriest trifles and necessaries. As a substitute for a warming-pan, the Emperor has been obliged to have holes bored in one of the large silver dishes, used for keeping the meat warm at table, which is now filled with coals, and used for the purpose of warming his bed.—For some time past, he has very much felt the want of spirits of wine, by means of which, he might have warmed his drink.

The Emperor has continued unwell the whole of the day: his face is still very much swelled, but the pain has somewhat abated. On entering his chamber, I found him sitting by the fire, reading the Guerres d’Italie, by Servan. The work suggested to him the idea of some additions to our valuable chapters on Italy. He ordered the map to be brought to him. I was very much surprised to find that the author, in descending to our own times, and narrating the campaigns of the Emperor himself, was exceedingly imperfect in his descriptions, and seemed to be unacquainted with the country about which he wrote. “This,” said the Emperor, “is because he passed on, without observing; and, perhaps he would not have been capable of understanding, even had he observed. But the true spirit of great enterprises and great results consists in the art of divining even without seeing.”

The Emperor found himself obliged to retire to bed as early as he did yesterday. He felt chilly, and seemed to be threatened with another attack of fever; he also felt symptoms of cramp. A little soup was the only nourishment he had taken since yesterday. He complained that his bed was badly made, and that every thing seemed to be wrong; the bed-clothes were not arranged as he wished, and he ordered them to be spread out differently. He remarked that all who surrounded him had calculated on his preserving his health, and that they would certainly be very inexperienced and awkward, should he happen to be attacked with a serious fit of illness.

He ordered some tea to be made of orange-tree leaves, for which he had to wait a considerable time. During the delay, he evinced a degree of patience of which I should certainly have been incapable.

He conversed, when in bed, on the early years of his life which he spent at Brienne, the Duke of Orleans, and Madame de Montesson, whom he recollected having seen. He spoke also of the families of Nogent and Brienne, who were connected with the circumstances of his youth.

“When I was raised to the head of the government,” said Napoleon, “Madame de Montesson applied to me for permission to take the title of Duchess of Orleans, which appeared to me an extremely ridiculous request.” The Emperor had supposed that she was only the mistress of the Prince; but I assured him that she had really been married to the Duke, with the consent of Louis XVI., and that, after the death of her husband, she always signed herself the Duchess Dowager of Orleans. The Emperor said he had been ignorant of that circumstance. “But, at all events,” said he, “what had the First Consul to do with the business? This was always my answer to the persons interested in the case, who were, however, not much satisfied with me. But was it to be expected that I should adopt, immediately, all the irregularities and absurdities of the old school?”

THE EMPEROR STILL INDISPOSED.—CHARACTERISTIC
CIRCUMSTANCES.

29th.—My son was ill, and I was myself by no means well, being still troubled with restlessness during the night. The Doctor came to see us. He informed me that the Emperor was better; but that he was wrong in refusing to take medicine.

The Emperor did not send for me until five o’clock. He still complained of a violent pain in his head. He had his feet in water, and he experienced a little relief from this kind of half bath. He lay down on the sofa, and took up the Memoirs of Noailles, from which he read aloud several passages, concerning the Duke de Vendome, the siege of Lille, and some others relative to the Duke of Berwick; all of which he accompanied by remarks in his own style,—novel, original, and striking. I very much regret that I am unable to record them here; but, as I had not made a fair copy of these latter sheets of my journal, when the manuscript was seized, I have now only the assistance of memoranda, frequently referring to circumstances which time has obliterated from my recollection.

The Emperor, observing on his drawers some confectionary, or sweetmeats, which had been accidentally left there, he desired me to bring them to him; and, seeing that I hesitated, and felt embarrassed, as to how I should present them, he said, “Take them in your hand; there is no need of ceremony or form between us now; we must henceforth be messmates.” Though this is a trifling circumstance, yet, to some, it will develope, more forcibly than volumes of description, the real turn of mind, character, and disposition, of the extraordinary individual to whom it relates: for men of judgment and observation will perceive, and draw conclusions, when others would not even form an idea. This consideration has induced me to insert in these volumes many things which I had originally intended to reject, through the fear that they might be thought insignificant, or, at all events, useless.

I have already mentioned that, in his moments of good-humoured familiarity, the Emperor was accustomed to salute me with all sorts of titles, such as “Good morning, Monseigneur. How is your Excellency? What says your Lordship to-day?” &c. One evening, when I was going to the drawing-room, the usher was about to open the door for me, when, at the same moment, the door of the Emperor’s apartment also opened: he was going thither too. I stepped aside to let him pass; and he, no doubt in a fit of abstraction, stopped me, and seizing me by the ear, said, playfully: “Well; where is your Majesty going?” But the words had no sooner been uttered, than he immediately let go my ear, and, assuming a grave expression of countenance, he began to talk to me on some serious topic. I had, it is true, learned to close my ears when it was necessary; but the Emperor was evidently sorry for having suffered the expression, your Majesty, to escape him. He seemed to think that though other titles might be used in jest, yet the case was very different with the one he had just employed[employed]; both on account of its own peculiar nature, and the circumstances in which we were placed. Be this as it may, the reader may form what conjecture he pleases; I merely relate the fact.

After dinner, the Emperor received all his suite in his chamber. He was in bed; and he began to talk of the little faith he placed in the virtue of medicine. He observed that he used to support his opinions on this subject with such strong arguments that Corvisart and other celebrated physicians could but feebly oppose him, and that merely for the sake of maintaining the honour of the profession.

THE EMPEROR’S FIFTH DAY OF CONFINEMENT.—ANECDOTE
OF AN UNPAID BILL.—ON UNPOPULARITY.

30th.—The Emperor was no better to-day; and his periodical attack of fever returned at the usual hour. He was troubled with pimples on his lips and in his mouth, together with a sore throat, so that he felt pain in speaking, and even in swallowing. When the Doctor came in the evening, he brought with him a gargle for the Emperor’s throat: but it was with difficulty we prevailed on him to use it. There is no oil to be procured, fit for the Emperor’s use—it is execrable; and he is very fastidious.

In the course of conversation to-day, the Emperor, in alluding to the extravagance and debts of Josephine, mentioned that he himself, though the most regular man in the world, with respect to money-matters, once got into an unpleasant predicament at Saint-Cloud. “I was riding in my calash,” said he, “along with the Empress, when, amidst an immense crowd of people, I was accosted, in the Eastern style, as a Sultan might be addressed on his way to the mosque, by one of my tradesmen, who demanded a considerable sum of money, the payment of which had been, for a long time, withheld from him. The man’s demand was just,” remarked Napoleon, “and yet I was not to blame. I had paid the money at the proper time: the intermediate agent was solely in fault.”

At another time, when alluding to the unpopularity of which, he said, he had latterly been the object, I expressed my surprise that he had not endeavoured to counteract the libels that were published against him, and to recover popular favour. To this he replied, with an air of inspiration: “I had higher objects in view than to concern myself about flattering and courting a low multitude; a few insignificant coteries and sects. I should have returned victorious from Moscow, and then not only these people, but all France, and all the world, would have admired and blessed me. I might then have withdrawn myself mysteriously from the world, and popular credulity would have revived the fable of Romulus; it would have been said that I had been carried up to heaven, to take my place among the gods.”

About seven o’clock, the Emperor, finding himself very weak, retired to bed. When our dinner was ended, he received us all in his chamber, as he did yesterday; his bed-curtains being drawn. After a little desultory conversation, he took a fancy to have Robinson Crusoe read to him. Each of the gentlemen read a portion by turns, I alone being exempt, on account of my bad eyes. After an hour or two spent in this way, the Emperor took leave of us all, except the youngest of the party (General Gourgaud), whom he detained for the purpose of reading and conversing with him a little longer.

THE EMPEROR VIOLATES THE DOCTOR’S ORDERS.—THE
NAME OF THE GREAT NATION FIRST APPLIED TO
FRANCE BY NAPOLEON.

31st.—Fair weather had now returned: the day was delightful. The Emperor had kept his chamber for six days: and, tired of the monotony of the scene, he determined to disobey the Doctor’s orders. He went out; but he felt himself so extremely weak that he was scarcely able to walk. He ordered the calash, and we took a drive. He was silent and low-spirited, and suffered considerable pain, particularly from the eruption on his lips.

Shortly after his return, he desired me to attend him in his chamber. He felt very weak and drowsy. I prevailed on him to eat a little; and he also took a glass of wine, which, he said, somewhat revived him, and he found himself better. He then entered into conversation.

“As soon as I set foot in Italy,” said he, “I wrought a change in the manners, sentiments, and language, of our Revolution. I did not shoot the emigrants; I protected the priests, and abolished those institutions and festivals which were calculated to disgrace us. In so doing, I was not guided by caprice, but by reason and equity—those two bases of superior policy. For example,” continued he, addressing himself to an individual present, “if the anniversary of the King’s death had always been celebrated, you would never have had an opportunity for rallying.”

The Emperor remarked that he himself was the first who applied to France the name of the Great Nation. “And certainly,” said he, “she justified the distinction in the eyes of the prostrate world.” Then, after a short pause, he added: “And she will yet deserve and retain that proud title, if her national character should again rise to a level with her physical advantages and her moral resources.”

On another occasion, speaking of a person to whom he was much attached, he said, “His character resembles that of the cow; gentle and placid in all things, except where his children are concerned. If any one meddles with them, his horns are immediately thrust forward, and he may be roused to a pitch of fury.”

Speaking of another, who had passed his thirtieth year, and whom he happened to say was too young, he observed, “And yet, at that age, I had made all my conquests, and I ruled the world. I had laid the revolutionary storm, amalgamated hostile parties, rallied a nation, established a government and an empire; in short, I wanted only the title of Emperor. I have, it must be confessed,” added he, “been the spoiled child of fortune. From my first entrance into life, I was accustomed to exercise command; and circumstances and the force of my own character were such that, as soon as I became possessed of power, I acknowledged no master, and obeyed no laws, except those of my own creating.”

THE EMPEROR’S HEALTH DECLINES VISIBLY.—THE DOCTOR
EXPRESSES ALARM.—FRENCH PRISONERS IN ENGLAND, &C.

Friday, November 1st.—To-day, the weather being very fine, the Emperor went out about two o’clock. After walking a little in the garden, he felt fatigued, and called at Madame Bertrand’s to rest himself. He sat there, upwards of an hour, in an arm-chair, without saying a word, and apparently suffering much from pain and weakness. He then returned languidly to his chamber, where he threw himself on his sofa, and fell into a slumber, as he did on the preceding day. I was very much distressed to observe the state of extreme debility to which he was reduced. He endeavoured to overcome his drowsiness; but he could neither converse nor read. I withdrew, in order that he might take a little rest.

An English frigate arrived from the Cape, on her way to Europe. This circumstance has afforded us an opportunity of writing to our friends. I have, however, denied myself the happiness of doing so; for the repeated complaints of the Governor, together with the consequences with which I was threatened, amount to an absolute prohibition of all correspondence with Europe. Perhaps a more favourable moment may arrive. At all events, I must be patient.

Doctor O’Meara called to see my son, who continued in a very precarious state. He was again bled yesterday, and fainted three or four times in the course of the day.

The Doctor took the opportunity of speaking to me on the subject of the Emperor’s health, and he assured me that he was by no means free from alarm as to the consequences of his confinement. He said that he was continually urging the necessity of exercise; and he begged that I would endeavour to prevail on the Emperor to go out more frequently. It was obvious that an alarming change had taken place in him. The Doctor did not hesitate to affirm that such complete confinement, after a life of activity, would be attended with the worst consequences; since any serious disorder, produced by the nature of the climate, or any accident to which he might be exposed, would infallibly prove fatal to him. These words, and the tone of anxiety in which they were uttered, deeply affected me. From that moment, I observed the sincere interest which the Doctor felt for Napoleon, and of which he has since afforded so many proofs.

The Emperor sent for me about six o’clock. He was taking a bath; and he appeared to be worse than when I had last seen him: this he attributed to going out yesterday. He, however, experienced some benefit from the bath; and he took up Lord Macartney’s Embassy to China, which he continued reading for some time, making various observations as he proceeded.

When he laid aside the book, he began to converse; and the situation of the French prisoners in England was one of the subjects that happened to come under discussion. I will here put together some remarks on this subject that fell from the Emperor on the present and other occasions.

The sudden rupture of the treaty of Amiens, on such false pretences, and with so much bad faith on the part of the English Ministry, greatly irritated the First Consul, who conceived that he had been trifled with. The seizure of several French merchant ships, even before war had been declared, roused his indignation to the utmost. “To my urgent remonstrances,” said the Emperor, “they coolly replied that it was a practice they had always observed; and here they spoke truth. But the time was gone by when France could tamely submit to such injustice and humiliation. I had become the defender of her rights and glory, and I was resolved to let our enemies know with whom they had to deal. Unfortunately, owing to the reciprocal situation of the two countries, I could only avenge one act of violence by another still greater. It was a painful thing to be compelled to make reprisals on innocent men; but I had no alternative.

“On reading the ironical and insolent reply that was returned to my complaints, I, that very night, issued an order for arresting, in every part of France, and in every territory occupied by the French, all Englishmen, of every rank whatever, and detaining them as prisoners, by way of reprisal for the unjust seizure of our ships. Most of these English were men of rank and fortune, who were travelling for their pleasure; but the more extraordinary the measure, the greater the injustice, the better it suited my purpose. A general outcry was raised. The English appealed to me; but I referred them to their own government, on whose conduct alone their fate depended. Several of these individuals proposed raising a subscription to pay for the ships that had been seized, in the hope of thereby obtaining permission to return home. I, however, informed them that I did not want money; but merely to obtain justice and redress for an injury. Could it have been believed that the English Government, as crafty and tenacious with respect to its maritime rights as the Court of Rome is in its religious pretensions, suffered a numerous and distinguished class of Englishmen to be unjustly detained for ten years, rather than authentically renounce for the future an odious system of maritime plunder.

“When I was first raised to the head of the consular government, I had had a misunderstanding with the English Cabinet, on the subject of prisoners of war; but I now carried my point. The Directory had been weak enough to agree to an arrangement extremely injurious to France, and entirely to the advantage of England.

“The English maintained their prisoners in France, and we had to maintain ours in England. We had but few English prisoners; and the French prisoners in England were exceedingly numerous: provisions were to be had almost for nothing in France; and they were exorbitantly dear in England. Thus the English had very trifling expenses to defray; while we, on the other hand, had to send enormous sums into a foreign country; and that at a time when we could but ill afford it. This arrangement, moreover, required an exchange of agents between the respective countries; and the English Commissioner proved to be neither more nor less than a spy on the French Government; he was the go-between and contriver of the plots that were hatched in the interior of France by the emigrants abroad. No sooner was I made acquainted with this state of things, than I erased the abuse by a stroke of the pen. The English Government was informed that, thenceforward, each country must maintain the prisoners it should make, unless an exchange were agreed upon. A terrible outcry was raised, and a threat was held out that the French prisoners should be suffered to die of starvation. I doubted not that the English Ministers were sufficiently obstinate and inhuman to wish to put this threat into execution; but I knew that any cruelty exercised towards the prisoners would be repugnant to the feelings of the nation. The English Government yielded the point. The situation of our unfortunate prisoners was, indeed, neither better nor worse than it had previously been; but, in other respects, we gained great advantages, and got rid of an arrangement which placed us under a sort of yoke and tribute.

“During the whole of the war, I incessantly made proposals for an exchange of prisoners: but to this, the English Government, under some pretence or other, constantly refused to accede, on the supposition that it would be advantageous to me. I have nothing to say against this. In war, policy must take place of feeling; but why exercise unnecessary cruelty? And this is what the English Ministers unquestionably did, when they found the number of prisoners increasing. Then commenced, for our unfortunate countrymen, the odious system of confinement in hulks; a species of torture, which the ancients would have added to the horrors of the infernal regions, had their imaginations been capable of conceiving it. I readily admit that there might be exaggeration on the part of the accusers; but was the truth spoken by those who defended themselves? We know what kind of thing a report to Parliament is. We can form a correct idea of it, when we read the calumnies and falsehoods that are uttered in Parliament, with such cool effrontery, by the base men who have blushed not to become our executioners. Confinement on board hulks is a thing that needs no explanation: the fact speaks for itself. When it is considered that men, unaccustomed to live on shipboard, were crowded together in little unwholesome cabins, too small to afford them room to move; that, by way of indulgence, they were permitted, twice during the twenty-four hours, to breathe pestilential exhalations at ebb tide; and that this misery was prolonged for the space of ten or twelve years;—the blood curdles at such an odious picture of inhumanity! On this point, I blame myself for not having made reprisals. It would have been well had I thrown into similar confinement, not the poor sailors and soldiers, whose complaints would never have been attended to, but all the English nobility and persons of fortune who were then in France. I should have permitted them to maintain free correspondence with their friends and families, and their complaints would soon have assailed the ears of the English Ministers, and checked their odious measures. Certain parties in Paris, who were ever the best allies of the enemy, would, of course, have called me a tiger and a cannibal; but no matter, I should have discharged my duty to the French people, who had made me their protector and defender. In this instance, my decision of character failed me.”

The Emperor asked me whether the French prisoners had been confined in hulks at the time when I was in England. I could not positively inform him; but I replied that I did not think they were, because I knew there were prisons for them in various parts of the country, where many of the English visited them, and purchased the productions of their industry. I added that they were, in all probability, but ill provided for, and exposed to many hardships; for a story used to be told of a government agent having visited one of the prisons on horseback, and no sooner had he alighted from his horse, and turned his back, than the poor animal was seized, cut to pieces, and devoured by the prisoners. I did not, of course, vouch for the fact; but the story was related by the English themselves, and the ignorant and prejudiced class did not regard it as a proof of the extreme misery to which the prisoners must have been reduced, but merely as an example of their terrible voracity. The Emperor laughed, and said he considered the anecdote to be a mere fabrication; observing that, if the fact were to be relied on, it was calculated to make human nature shudder; for, that nothing but hunger, urged to madness, could drive men to such a dreadful extremity. I was the more inclined to believe that the plan of confinement on board the hulks had not been introduced when I was in England, because I recollected that a great deal had been said about establishing the French prisoners in some small islands between England and Ireland. It was proposed to convey them thither, and to leave them to themselves, in a state of complete seclusion; and a few light vessels were to be kept constantly cruising about to guard them. To this plan it was, however, objected that, in case of a descent on the part of the enemy, his grand object would be to land on these islands, distribute arms among the prisoners, and thus recruit an army immediately. Perhaps, added I, this idea might have led to the use of hulks; for the prisoners were rapidly increasing in numbers, and it was not thought safe to keep them on shore among the people, as the latter betrayed a strong disposition to fraternize with the French. “Well,” said Napoleon, “I can very readily conceive that there might be good grounds for rejecting the plan you have just mentioned. Safety and self-preservation before all things. But the confinement in the hulks is a stain on the English character for humanity, an irritating sting, that will never be removed from the hearts of the French prisoners.”

“On the subject of prisoners of war,” continued Napoleon, “the English Ministers invariably acted with their habitual bad faith, and with the Machiavelism that distinguishes the school of the present day. Being absolutely determined to avoid an exchange, which they did not wish to incur the blame of having refused, they invented and multiplied pretences beyond calculation. In the first place, that I should presume to regard as prisoners, persons merely detained, was affirmed to be an atrocious violation of the laws of civilized nations, and a principle which the English Government would never avow, on any consideration whatever. It happened that some of the individuals detained, who were at large on parole, escaped, and were received triumphantly in England. On the other hand, some Frenchmen effected their escape to France. I expressed my disapprobation of their conduct, and proposed that the individuals of either country, who had thus broken their parole, should be mutually sent back again. But I received for answer that persons detained were not to be accounted prisoners; that they had merely availed themselves of the lawful privilege of escaping oppression; that they had done right; and had been received accordingly. After this, I thought myself justified in inducing the French to escape; and the English Ministers filled their journals with the most insolent abuse, declaring me to be a man who scrupled not to violate moral principle, faith, and law.

“When[“When], at length, they determined to treat for an exchange of prisoners, or, perhaps, I ought rather to say, when they took it into their heads to trifle with me on this point, they sent a Commissioner to France. All the great difficulties were waved; and, with a fine parade of sentiment, conditions were proposed for the sake of humanity, &c. They consented to include persons detained in the list of prisoners, and to admit, under that head, the Hanoverian troops, who were my prisoners, but who were at large on parole. This latter point had been a standing obstacle; because, it was insinuated the Hanoverians were not English. Thus far matters had proceeded smoothly, and there was every probability of their being brought to a conclusion. But I knew whom I had to deal with: and I guessed the intentions that were really entertained. There were infinitely more French prisoners in England than English prisoners in France; and I was well aware that, the English being once safely landed at home, some pretence would be found for breaking off the exchange, and the rest of my poor Frenchmen might have remained on board the hulks to all eternity. I declared that I would accede to no partial exchange; that I would be satisfied only with a full and complete one; and, to facilitate matters, I made the following proposal. I admitted that there were fewer English prisoners in France than French prisoners in England; but, I observed, that there were among my prisoners, Spaniards, Portuguese, and other allies of the English, who had been taken under their banners and fighting in the same cause. With this addition, I could on my part produce a far more considerable number of prisoners than there were in England. I therefore offered to surrender up all, in return for all. This proposition, at first, occasioned some embarrassment; it was discussed and rejected. However, as soon as they had devised a scheme, by which they thought they could secure the object they had in view, they acceded to my proposition. But I kept a watchful eye on them: I knew that, if we began by merely exchanging Frenchmen for Englishmen, as soon as the latter should be secured, pretences would be found for breaking off the business, and the old evasions would be resumed; for the English prisoners in France did not amount to one-third of the French in England. To obviate any misunderstanding on either side, I therefore proposed that we should exchange by convoys of only three thousand at a time; that three thousand Frenchmen should be returned to me, and that I would send back one thousand English, and two thousand Hanoverians, Spaniards, Portuguese, and others. Thus, if any misunderstanding arose and put a stop to the exchange, we should still stand in the same relative proportions as before, and without having practised any deception upon each other: but if, on the contrary, the affair should proceed uninterruptedly to a conclusion, I promised to surrender up, gratuitously, all the prisoners that might ultimately remain in my hands. My conjectures respecting the real designs of the English Government proved to be correct: these conditions, which were really so reasonable, and the principle of which had already been adopted, were rejected, and the whole business was broken off. Whether the English Ministers really sympathized in the situation of their countrymen, or whether they were convinced of my firm determination not to be duped, I know not; but it would appear that they were at length inclined to come to a conclusion, when I subsequently introduced the subject by an indirect channel. However, our disasters in Russia at once revived their hopes, and defeated my intentions.”

The Emperor next remarked upon the treatment of prisoners of war in France, which, he said, was as generous and liberal as it possibly could be; and he thought that, on this subject, no nation could justly reproach us. “We have,” said he, “in our favour the testimony and the sentiments of the prisoners themselves; for, with the exception of those who were ardently attached to their local laws, or, in other words, to notions of liberty (and these were exclusively the English and Spaniards), all the rest, namely the Austrians, Prussians, and Russians, were willing to remain with us: they left us with regret, and returned to us with pleasure. This disposition on the part of the Spaniards and English has oftener than once influenced the obstinacy of their efforts or their resistance.”

The Emperor also made the following observation:—“It was my intention to have introduced into Europe a change with respect to the treatment of prisoners. I intended to enrol them in regiments, and to make them labour, under military discipline, at public works and buildings. They should have received whatever money they earned, and would thus have been secured against the misery of absolute idleness and the disorders arising out of it. They should have been well fed and clothed, and have wanted for nothing, without being a burden to the state. All parties would have been benefited by this plan. But my idea did not meet the approval of the Council of State, which, in this instance, was swayed by the mistaken philanthropy that leads to so many errors in the world. It was said that it would be unjust and cruel to compel men to labour. It was feared lest our enemies should make reprisals; and it was affirmed that a prisoner was sufficiently unfortunate in the loss of his liberty, without being placed under restraint as to the employment of his time. But here was the abuse of which I complained, and which I wished to correct. A prisoner, said I, must and should expect to be placed under lawful constraint; and that which I would impose on him is for his own advantage, as well as that of others. I do not require that he should be subject to greater misery or fatigue, but to less danger, than he is exposed to in his present condition. You are afraid lest the enemy should make reprisals, and treat French prisoners in the same manner. Heaven grant it should be so! I wish for nothing better! I should then behold my sailors and soldiers occupied in wholesome labour, in the fields or the public roads, instead of seeing them buried alive on board those odious hulks. They would return home healthy, industrious and inured to labour; and in every country they would leave behind them some compensation for the fatal ravages of war. By way of concession, the Council of State agreed to the organization of a few corps of prisoners as voluntary labourers, or something of the sort; but this was by no means the fulfilment of the scheme I had in view.”