THE SWORD OF FREDERIC THE GREAT.—ON NAPOLEON’S MARRIAGE IT WAS HOPED THAT THE LION WOULD SLUMBER.—TORMENTING CONDUCT OF THE GOVERNOR.—OUR LOT ENVIABLE, EVEN AMIDST OUR MISERY.
13th.—This morning, when I was in the Emperor’s apartment, being unemployed, I took a fancy to examine the large watch of Frederick the Great, which hangs beside the chimney piece. This led the Emperor to say, “I have been the possessor of glorious and valuable relics. I had the sword of Frederick the Great; and the Spaniards presented to me, at the Tuileries, the sword of Francis I. This was a high compliment, and it must have cost them some sacrifice. The Turks and Persians have also sent me arms, which were said to have belonged to Gengiskan, Tamerlan, Nadir Shah, and I know not whom; but I attached importance not to the fact, but to the intention.”
I expressed my astonishment that he had not endeavoured to keep Frederick’s sword. “Why, I had my own,” said he, smiling, and gently pinching my ear. He was right; I certainly made a very stupid observation.
Afterwards, alluding to his second marriage, he said, that he had intended[intended] to make choice of a Frenchwoman, and it would have been well if he had done so. “Such a union would have been eminently national,” he observed. “France was sufficiently great, and her Monarch sufficiently powerful, to set aside every consideration of foreign policy. Besides, among Sovereigns, the ties of blood are always made to yield to political interests: hence what scandalous violations of moral feeling are frequently exhibited to the world. Another objection that may be urged against marriages of this kind is the admission of a foreign Princess into state secrets, which she may be tempted to betray; and, if a sovereign places trust in his connexions abroad, he may find that he has set his foot on an abyss covered with flowers. In short, it is absurd to suppose that such alliances can guarantee or ensure any advantage.”
The announcement of the Emperor’s second marriage was a source of joy to those prudent citizens who looked forward to the future.—A few days after he had formed his determination, Napoleon said to one of his Ministers (the Duke Decrès[Decrès]), in a moment of good humoured familiarity, “Well; it appears that people are very much pleased with my intended marriage.”—“Yes, Sire.”—“I suppose they expect that the lion will slumber.”—“To say the truth, Sire, we are somewhat inclined to form that expectation.”—“Well,” resumed Napoleon, after a few moments’ silence, “it is a mistake: and it is not the fault of the lion either. Slumber would be as sweet to him as to any other. But do not you see that while I am, to all appearance, incessantly attacking, I am, nevertheless, always engaged in self-defence?”
The correctness of this assertion might have been doubted, while the terrible conflict lasted; but the joy and indiscretion of the triumphant party have sufficiently confirmed its truth. Some boasted of having formed the determination of prosecuting the war until they had accomplished the destruction of their enemy: others[[13]] have unblushingly proclaimed that the plot for Napoleon’s overthrow was hatched under the mask of alliance and friendship!
During this and the two succeeding days, my attention was wholly occupied by a contest which concerned me personally, and which has had so much influence on my subsequent destiny, that I cannot pass it over in silence. Ever since my residence at Longwood, I have had, as a servant, a free mulatto, with whom I was very well satisfied; but Sir Hudson Lowe suddenly took it into his head to remove him.
Prompted by the determination of tormenting us, by every means his imagination could suggest, or (as many are inclined to believe,) following up a perfidiously laid plan, he sent the English officer on duty to inform me that he had conceived some doubts as to the propriety of my being attended by a native of the Island; and that he intended to remove my servant and send me one of his own choosing. My answer was brief and positive; “The Governor,” said I, “has it in his power to send away my servant, if he pleases; but he may spare himself the trouble of sending me one of his choosing. I am daily learning better and better how to dispense with the comforts of life. I can, if necessary, wait on myself; this additional privation will be but slightly felt, amidst the sufferings to which we are subjected.”
This circumstance occasioned the interchange of a vast number of messages and notes. Sir Hudson Lowe wrote three or four times every day to the officer on duty directing him to make various communications to me. He observed that he did not understand my scruples, and could not conceive why I should object to any servant he might send me.—One of his selecting was as good as any other—The offer of making the choice himself was merely a mark of attention, &c.
I was distressed to see the poor officer thus mercilessly sent to and fro; and I was also heartily tired of the business myself. I therefore begged that he would spare himself further trouble, by assuring the Governor that to all his communications my reply must invariably be the same; namely, that he might send away my servant if he pleased; but that he must not think of obliging me to receive one of his choosing; that he might place me in garrison by force, but never with my own consent. While this correspondence was going forward, my servant was sent for, interrogated, withdrawn from my service, then sent back again, and at length finally withdrawn.
I rendered an account of the whole affair to the Emperor, who highly applauded my determination of not admitting a spy among us. “But,” said he, in the most engaging manner, “as this sacrifice has been made for the interest of all, it is not proper that you alone should be the sufferer. Send to Gentilini, my valet de pied, and let him wait on you: he will be very happy to earn a few Napoleons in addition to his wages: besides, tell him it is by my desire.” Gentilini, at first, cheerfully undertook the duty; but, in the evening, the poor fellow came to inform me that some one had told him, it was not proper for one of the Emperor’s servants to attend on a private person!... The Emperor had the goodness to send for Gentilini, and to repeat the orders with his own mouth.
Thus the Governor daily persecutes us in every imaginable way. I do not mention all the circumstances of this kind that are continually occurring, not because habit has taught me to accommodate myself to them, but, because the vexations that arise from mere ill-nature are but trifles in comparison with the greater miseries which we have to endure....
If I attempt to portray the horrors of my own situation alone, let it be considered that I am exiled, and probably for ever, to a desert rock, two thousand leagues from home, confined in a small prison, beneath a sky, in a climate, and on a soil, totally different from those of my native country. I am hastening to a premature grave, the only probable conclusion of my misery. Bereft of my wife, children, and friends, who, though they still live, may be said to be no longer in the same world with me; shut out from all communication with mankind, I deplore the recollection of family affections, and the charms of friendship and society.... Certainly, there is no man, whatever be his country or his opinions, but must commiserate my lot.... But, in a moment, I can reverse the picture, and my situation will appear an enviable one!...
Where is the heart that does not beat at the recollection of the achievements of Alexander and Cæsar? Who can approach the relics of Charlemagne without emotion? How happy should we be could we recal the words, the accents, of Henry IV.! Thus, when oppressed by mental dejection, when I feel the necessity of rousing my drooping spirits, while my heart is overflowing with these sensations, and my mind filled with these ideas, I exclaim: I possess all this, and more than this! Here, I am not surrounded by mere illusions and historical recollections; I am in actual contact with the living man who has accomplished so many prodigies. Every day, every moment, I may contemplate the features of him who, with a glance, ordered battles, and decided the fate of empires. I may gaze on the brow that is adorned with the laurels of Rivoli, Marengo, Austerlitz, Wagram, Jena, and Friedland. I may presume to touch the hand that has wielded so many sceptres, and distributed so many crowns; which seized the enemy’s colours at Arcole and Lodi; and which, on a solemn occasion, surrendered into the hands of an afflicted wife the only proofs of her husband’s guilt. I hear the voice of him who, when addressing his troops, in sight of the Egyptian pyramids, said, “My lads, from the summits of those monuments, forty centuries look down upon us!” who, halting and uncovering before a column of wounded Austrian soldiers, exclaimed, “Honour and respect to the unfortunate brave.” I converse, almost familiarly, with the Monarch who ruled Europe; whose pastime was the embellishment of our cities, and the prosperity of our provinces; who raised us to so high a rank in the estimation of nations; and who wafted our glory to the skies!... I see him, I hear him speak, I attend on him, and, perhaps, even help to console him!... Can I then lay claim to pity? On the contrary, will not thousands envy my lot? Who can boast of possessing so many sources of happiness, in circumstances similar to ours?
NEW WORKS PLANNED BY THE EMPEROR.—REMARKS ON GREAT COMMANDERS; WAR, &C.—NAPOLEON’S OPINION’S ON VARIOUS INSTITUTIONS.—ADVOCATES.—CURATES.—MISCELLANEOUS OBSERVATIONS.
14th.—The Emperor sent for me about six o’clock. He informed me that he had just been dictating a chapter on maritime rights. He spoke to me of some other works he had in view. I ventured to remind him of the fourteen paragraphs which he had already planned, and to which I alluded on a former occasion. He seemed pleased that I had mentioned the circumstance, and assured me that he would, some day, carry his design into execution.
He read and corrected the valuable notes which he had dictated to the Grand Marshal on ancient and modern warfare, the different plans of composing and regulating armies, &c. He afterwards entered into conversation, and, among other things, said, “No series of great actions is the mere work of chance and fortune; it is always the result of reflection and genius. Great men rarely fail in the most perilous undertakings. Look at Alexander, Cæsar, Hannibal, the great Gustavus, and others; they always succeeded. Were they great men merely because they were fortunate? No; but because, being great men, they possessed the art of commanding fortune. When we come to inquire into the causes of their success, we are astonished to find that they did every thing to obtain it.
“Alexander, when scarcely beyond the age of boyhood, with a mere handful of brave troops, conquered a quarter of the globe. But was this achievement the result of a mere accidental irruption, a sort of unexpected deluge? No; all was profoundly calculated, boldly executed, and prudently managed. Alexander proved himself at once a distinguished warrior, politician, and legislator. Unfortunately, on attaining the zenith of glory and success, his head was turned, and his heart corrupted. He commenced his career with the mind of Trajan; but he closed it with the heart of Nero, and the manners of Heliogabalus.” The Emperor here described the campaigns of Alexander in such a manner as enabled me to view the subject in a totally new light.
Alluding to Cæsar, the Emperor remarked that he, the reverse of Alexander, had commenced his career at an advanced period of life; that his youth had been passed in indolence and vice; but that he had ultimately evinced the most active and elevated mind. He thought him one of the most amiable characters in history. “Cæsar,” observed he, “overcame the Gauls, and the laws of his country. But his great warlike achievements must not be attributed merely to chance and fortune.” Here he analyzed the victories of Cæsar, as he had done those of Alexander.
“Hannibal,” continued the Emperor, “is perhaps the most surprising[surprising] character of any, from the intrepidity, confidence, and grandeur, evinced in all his enterprises. At the age of twenty-six, he conceived what is scarcely conceivable, and executed what must have been looked upon as impossible. Renouncing all communication with his country, he marched through hostile or unknown nations, which he was obliged to attack and subdue. He crossed the Pyrenees and the Alps, which were presumed to be impassable, and descended upon Italy, sacrificing the half of his army for the mere acquisition of his field of battle, the mere right of fighting. He occupied and governed Italy for the space of sixteen years, being several times within a hair’s breadth of possessing himself of Rome, and only relinquished his prey when his enemies, profiting by the lesson he had set them, went to attack the Carthaginian territory. Can it be supposed that Hannibal’s glorious career and achievements were the mere result of chance, and fortune’s favours? Certainly, Hannibal must have been endowed with great vigour of mind, and he must also have possessed a vast consciousness of his own skill in the art of war, when, being interrogated by his youthful conqueror, he hesitated not to place himself, though subdued, next in rank to Alexander and Pyrrhus, whom he esteemed as the first of warriors.
“All the great Captains of antiquity,” continued Napoleon, “and those who in modern times have successfully trodden in their steps, performed vast achievements, only by conforming with the rules and principles of the art; that is to say, by correct combinations, and by justly comparing the relation between means and consequences, efforts and obstacles. They succeeded only by the strict observance of these rules, whatever may have been the boldness of their enterprises, or the extent of the advantages gained. They invariably practised war as a science. Thus they have become our great models, and it is only by closely imitating them that we can hope to approach them.
“My greatest successes have been ascribed merely to good fortune; and my reverses will no doubt be imputed to my faults. But if I should write an account of my campaigns, it will be seen that, in both cases, my reason and faculties were exercised in conformity with principles.”
It is to be hoped that the Emperor will execute the idea of writing his campaigns. How invaluable would be Napoleon’s Commentaries!
The Emperor analyzed the characters of Gustavus-Adolphus and Condé: with the latter, he said, science seemed to be instinctive, nature having created him with maturity of intellect. Turenne, on the contrary, had perfected his talent by dint of pains and study. I remarked that Turenne had formed no pupils, while Condé had left many distinguished ones behind him. “That was the mere caprice of chance,” replied the Emperor; “the contrary ought to have happened. But it is not always in the master’s power to form good pupils; nature must lend her aid: the seed must be sown in a fertile soil.” He made many remarks on Eugène, Marlborough, Vendome, &c. Frederick the Great, he said, was in all respects a super-excellent tactician, and possessed the art of rendering his troops absolute machines. “How often,” said he, “men’s characters prove to be totally different from what their early actions indicate! Do they themselves know what they really are? Frederick,” continued he, “at the commencement of his career, fled from his own victory; and, certainly the whole of his subsequent history proves him to have been the most intrepid, most tenacious, and coolest of men.”
After dinner, the Emperor, who was pleased with the subject of the dictations and conversation in which he had been engaged during the morning, discoursed on the same topics for nearly an hour; discussing in the most masterly and ingenious way a variety of points connected with the art of war.
Alluding to the great difference between ancient and modern warfare, he observed: “The invention of fire-arms has wrought a total change. This great discovery operates entirely to the advantage of assailants, though many moderns have maintained the contrary opinion. The corporeal strength of the ancients,” added he, “was in harmony with their offensive and defensive weapons; ours, on the other hand, are entirely beyond our sphere.”
Should the Emperor leave behind him his thoughts on these points, they will be truly invaluable. In course of the evening, he pronounced his opinion on several military subjects; sometimes embracing the highest questions, and sometimes descending into the minutest details.
He remarked that war frequently depended on accident, and that, though a commander ought to be guided by general principles, yet he should never lose sight of any thing that may enable him to profit by accidental circumstances. The vulgar call good-fortune that which, on the contrary, is produced by the calculations of genius.
In the present mode of military operations, he thought it advisable that greater consistency should be given to the third rank of infantry, or, that it should be suppressed[suppressed]; and he explained his reasons for this.
He was of opinion that infantry charged by cavalry should fire from a distance, instead of firing closely, according to the present practice. He proved the advantage of this method.
He observed that infantry and cavalry left to themselves, without artillery, could procure no decisive result; but that, with the aid of artillery, all things else being equal, cavalry might destroy infantry. He clearly explained these facts, and many others besides.
He added that artillery really decided the fate of armies and nations; that men now fought with blows of cannon balls, as they fought with blows of fists; for in battle, as in a siege, the art consisted in making numerous discharges converge on one and the same point; that, amidst the conflict, he who had sufficient address to direct a mass of artillery suddenly and unexpectedly on any particular point of the enemy’s force was sure of the victory. This, he said, had been his grand secret and his grand plan of tactics.
The Emperor conceived that it would be impossible to form a perfect army, without a revolution in the manners and education of the soldier, and perhaps even the officer. This could not be accomplished with our ovens, magazines, commissaries, and carriages. There could be no perfect army, until, in imitation of the Romans, the soldier should receive his supply of corn, grind it in his hand-mill, and bake his bread himself. We could not hope to possess an army, until we should abolish all our monstrous train of civil attendants.
“I contemplated all these changes,” said he, “but they never could have been put in practice, except during profound peace. An army in a state of war would infallibly have rebelled against such innovations.”
I will here insert some notes which I have collected at various times, relative to the new plans projected by the Emperor, not only in the army, but on many other points essential to social organization.
The Emperor often observed that he intended, on the establishment of peace, to induce the Powers of Europe to make an immense reduction in their standing armies. He wished that each sovereign should limit himself to his guard, as the skeleton of the army, to be raised in case of necessity. He intended, should he have found himself compelled to keep up a numerous army in time of peace, to employ the troops in public works, and to have disciplined and provisioned them on a peculiar plan.
He said he had found that, in his plans of campaigns and expeditions, the greatest difficulty arose from the modern method of provisioning troops; by which it was necessary first to find corn, then to get it ground, and next to have the flour made into bread. The Roman custom, which he highly approved, and which he had intended to introduce wholly or in part, would have obviated all these inconveniences. “By the adoption of the ancient plan,” said he, “an army might have marched to the end of the world. But, it would require time to bring about such a transition. It could not have been accomplished by a mere order of the day. I had long entertained the idea of such a change; but however great might have been my power, I should never have attempted to introduce it by force. There is no subordination with empty stomachs. Such an object could only have been effected in time of peace, and by insensible degrees: I should have accomplished it by creating new military manners.”
The Emperor constantly insisted on subjecting the whole nation to the laws of the conscription. “I am inexorable on the subject of exemption,” said he, one day in the Council of State;—“it would be criminal. How could I reconcile it to my conscience to expose the life of one man for the advantage of another? I do not even think I would exempt my own son.” On another occasion, he said, “The conscription is the everlasting root of a nation, its moral purification, the real foundation of its habits. By means of the conscription,” he added, “the nation was classed according to its real interests for defence abroad, and tranquillity at home. Organized, built up in this way, the French people might have defied the world, and might with justice have renewed the saying of the proud Gauls:—If the sky should fall, we will prop it up with our lances.”
According to Napoleon’s plans, the conscription, so far from impeding education, would have been the means of promoting it. He intended to have established, in each regiment, a school for the commencement or continuation of instruction of every kind, either in science, the liberal arts, or mere mechanics. “And nothing would have been so easy,” he remarked. “The principle once adopted, we should have seen each regiment supplied with all that was necessary, out of its own ranks. And what advantages would have accrued to the mass of society by the dispersion of these young men, with their acquired knowledge, even had it been merely elementary, and the habits necessarily produced by it!”
The Emperor one day, in the course of conversation, observed that, if he had had leisure there were few institutions in which he would not have made improvements. He dwelt on the evils arising from lawsuits, which, he said, were an absolute leprosy, a social cancer. “My code,” said he, “had singularly diminished lawsuits, by placing numerous causes within the comprehension of every individual. But there still remained much for the legislator to accomplish. Not that he could hope to prevent men from quarrelling: this they have done in all ages; but he might have prevented a third party in society from living upon the quarrels of the other two and even stirring up disputes to promote their own interest. It was, therefore, my intention to establish the rule that lawyers should never receive fees except when they gained causes. Thus, what litigations would have been prevented! On the first examination of a cause, a lawyer would have rejected it, had it been at all doubtful. There would have been no fear that a man, living by his labour, would have undertaken to conduct a lawsuit, from mere motives of vanity; and if he had, he would himself have been the only sufferer in case of failure. But my idea was opposed by a multitude of objections, and as I had no time to lose, I postponed the further consideration of the subject. Yet I am still convinced,” added he, “that the scheme might, with certain modifications, have been turned to the best account.”
When speaking of the clergy, the Emperor remarked that he intended to have rendered curates a very important and useful class of men. “The more enlightened they are,” said he, “the less will they be inclined to abuse their ministry.” Therefore, in addition to their theological studies, he wished them to acquire a knowledge of agriculture and the elements of medicine and law. “Thus,” said he, “dogmatism and controversy, the battle-horse and the arms of fools and fanatics, would gradually have become more and more rare in the pulpit, whence would have been promulgated the doctrines of pure morality, always pleasing, eloquent, and persuasive. As men usually love to discourse on what they know, the clergy would have instructed the peasantry in their agricultural labours, counselled them against chicanery, and given advice to the sick. Such pastors would have been real blessings to their flocks; and, as they would have been allowed a liberal stipend, they would have enjoyed high consideration: they would have respected themselves, and would have been respected by all. They would have possessed the power of feudal lords, and they might, without danger, have exercised all their influence. A curate would have been a natural justice of peace, a true moral chief, to whom the direction of the population might have been safely intrusted, because he would himself have been dependent on the Government for his appointment and salary. If to all this be added the study and privation necessary for the calling, and supposing the individuals to be possessed of good qualities of heart and mind, it must be confessed that pastors, thus constituted, would have produced a revolution in society highly advantageous to the cause of morality.”
I recollect having heard the Emperor, in the Council of State, declaim against the perquisites of ministers of the Gospel, and point out the indecorum of their trafficking, as he said, with sacred, and yet indispensable, objects. He therefore proposed putting an end to this practice. “By rendering the acts of religion gratuitous,” he observed, “we shall make their dignity, beneficence, and charity more conspicuous; and confer a great benefit on the poor. Nothing would be easier than to substitute legal imposts for these perquisites. Every one is born, many marry, and all die; and yet births, marriages, and deaths, are three great subjects of religious jobbing, which, in my opinion, are particularly objectionable, and which I would wish to abolish. Since these are matters which concern all equally, why not place them under a special impost, or include them among the subjects of general taxation?” This proposal had no result.
I also recollect having heard the Emperor suggest that all public functionaries, and men employed under Government, even officers in the army, should themselves form a fund for their future pensions, by a slight deduction from their annual salaries. “Thus,” said he, “the future support of these individuals would no longer be an object of solicitation or a favour; it would be a right. The deductions made from their salaries would be thrown into a sinking fund, liable to this application. It would be a certain property, which they might regard as their own, and upon which they might draw, without opposition, on retiring from the public service.” It was urged, in objection, that there were incomes, those of military officers in particular, that would not admit of deduction.—“Well,” replied the Emperor, “I will make up the deficiency, I will add whatever is necessary for the deduction.”—“But,”[“But,”] it was asked, “what end will that answer? If we have to pay the same amount, where will be the economy? where will be the advantage?”—“The advantage,” replied the Emperor, “will be in the difference between certainty and uncertainty; between the settled course of the treasury, which would no longer have occasion to concern itself about these accidents, and the tranquillity of citizens, who would thus possess their guarantee.”
The Emperor warmly defended this idea, and adverted to it oftener than once; it however produced no result. I have already remarked that I have often known him to enter upon extempore discussions in this way, and even to comment on others after they were printed.
The following brief quotation will afford an idea of the labours and activity of the Emperor’s reign:—“It has been calculated that Napoleon’s Government, in the space of fourteen years and five months, presents, 61,139 deliberations of the Council of State, on different subjects!”[[14]]
NAPOLEON AT ST. HELENA.
London: Published for Henry Colburn, April, 1836.
I have often heard Napoleon repeat that he wished for the establishment of an European Institute and European prizes, to superintend and stimulate the learned societies of every country.
He would have wished to fix throughout Europe, uniformity of coins, weights, and measures, and also uniformity of legislation. “Why,” said he, “might not my Code Napoleon have served as the groundwork for a European Code, and my Imperial University have been the basis of a European University? Thus the whole population of Europe would have become one and the same family; and every man, while he travelled abroad, would still have found himself at home.”
Various other subjects, of the above nature, were canvassed at different times; but I refrain from noticing them, as my memory does not enable me to enter into details.