During part of the day, the Emperor, after running over a great number of topics, came at length to mention several persons who, were they at liberty, he said, would join him at St. Helena, and he undertook to explain the motives by which they might be influenced. From this subject, he was led to touch upon the motives of those who were about him. “Bertrand,” said he, "is henceforth identified with my fate. It is an historical fact. Gourgaud was my first orderly officer, he is my own work, he is my child. Montholon is Semonville’s son, brother-in-law to Joubert, a child of the revolution and of camps. But you, my good friend," said he to the fourth, “you,” and after a moment’s thought, he resumed; “you, my good friend, let us know by what extraordinary chance you find yourself here?” The answer was, “Sire, by the influence of my happy stars, and for the honour of the emigrants.”
ARTICLES SENT FROM ENGLAND.—THE EMPEROR’s DETERMINATION TO PROHIBIT THE USE OF COTTON IN FRANCE.—THE CONFERENCES OF TILSIT.—THE QUEEN OF PRUSSIA.—THE KING.—THE EMPEROR ALEXANDER.—ANECDOTES, &C.
June 16th.—The weather was delightful; the Emperor entered my apartment about ten o’clock. I was employed in dressing myself, and also in dictating my Journal to my son. The Emperor cast his eye over it for a few instants, and said nothing; he left it to look at some drawings. They were topographical sketches, executed with the pen, of some of the battles in Italy, by my son, and we felt pleasure in reserving them as an agreeable surprise for the Emperor. We had, until then, been employed upon them in secret.
I followed the Emperor to the garden; he talked a great deal on the articles that had been just sent to us from England, and which chiefly consisted of furniture. He exposed the ill-grace and awkwardness of those who had been employed to deliver them to us. He observed that, in presenting even what would have been most agreeable to us, they found means to hurt our feelings. He was on that account determined not to make use of them, and he declined accepting two fowling-pieces, which were particularly intended for him. The Emperor breakfasted in the open air, and we were all invited to his table.
The conversation turning on fashions and dress, the Emperor said that, at one period, he had resolved to prohibit the use of cotton in France, for the more effectual encouragement of the lawn and cambric trade of our towns in Flanders. The Empress Josephine was shocked at the idea, which she decidedly opposed, and it was given up.
The Emperor was in a happy humour for conversation, and the weather was very mild and tolerably pleasant. He began walking in the kind of alley which runs perpendicularly in front of the house. The conversation turned on the celebrated epoch of Tilsit, and the following are the interesting particulars which I collected.
The Emperor remarked, that, had the Queen of Prussia arrived at the commencement of the negociations, she might have exercised considerable influence with respect to the result. Happily, she arrived when they were sufficiently advanced to enable the Emperor to decide upon their conclusion four-and-twenty hours afterwards. The King, it was thought, had prevented her early appearance, in consequence of a rising jealousy against a great personage, which was confidently stated, said the Emperor, “not to have been destitute of some slight ground.”
The moment of her arrival, the Emperor paid her a visit. “The Queen of Prussia,” said he, “had been very beautiful, but she was beginning to lose some of the charms of her youth.”
The Emperor declared, that the Queen received him like Mademoiselle Duchesnois in the character of Chimene, thrown back into a grand attitude, demanding, calling aloud for, justice. In short, it was altogether a theatrical scene: the representation was truly tragic. He was unable to speak for an instant, and thought the only way of extricating himself was that of bringing back the business to the tone of regular comedy, which he attempted by presenting her with a chair, and gently forcing her to be seated. She proceeded, nevertheless, in the most pathetic tone. “Prussia,” she exclaimed, “had been blinded with respect to her power;—she had dared to contend with a hero, to oppose herself to the destinies of France, to neglect his auspicious friendship; she was deservedly punished for it. The glory of the great Frederic, his memory, and his inheritance had puffed up the pride of Prussia, and had caused her ruin!” She solicited, supplicated, implored. Magdeburg, in particular, was the object of her efforts and wishes. The Emperor kept his ground as well as he could. Fortunately, the husband made his appearance. The Queen reproved, with an expressive look, the unseasonable interruption, and shewed some pettishness. In fact, the King attempted to take part in the conversation, spoiled the whole affair, “and I was,” said the Emperor, “set at liberty.”
The Emperor entertained the Queen at dinner. She played off, said he, all her wit against me; she had a great deal; all her manners, which were very fascinating; all her coquetry; she was not without charms. “But I was determined not to yield. I found it necessary, however, to keep a great command over myself, that I might continue exempt from all kind of engagement, and every expression, which might be taken in a doubtful sense, and the more so, because I was carefully watched, and particularly by Alexander.” Just before sitting down to dinner Napoleon took from a flower-stand a very beautiful rose, which he presented to the Queen. She at first expressed by the motion of her hand a kind of prepared refusal; but suddenly recollecting herself, she said; Yes, but at least with Magdeburg. The Emperor replied, “But ... I must observe to your Majesty, that it is I who present, and you, who are about to receive it.” The dinner and the remainder of the time passed over in that manner.