“Now,” resumed the Emperor, “you are blaming and condemning me! But, if you were to take a view of the contrary chances, you would change your tone. Besides, you forget that we reasoned on the hypothesis that the Legislative Body would have joined me; but you know what line of conduct it pursued. I might have dissolved it, to be sure. France and Europe perhaps blame me, and posterity will doubtless censure my weakness, in not breaking up the Legislative Body after its insurrection. It will be said, that I ought not to have separated myself from the destinies of a people who had done all for me. But by dissolving the Assembly, I could at most have obtained only a capitulation from the enemy. In that case, I again repeat, blood must have been shed, and I must have proved myself a tyrant. I had however arranged a plan on the night of the 20th, and on the 21st measures of the most rigid severity were to have been adopted; but before the return of day, the dictates of humanity and prudence warned me that such a course was not to be thought of, that I should miss my aim, and that every one was merely seeking blindly to accommodate himself to circumstances. But I must not begin again. I have already said too much on a subject which always revives painful recollections. I repeat once more that History will decide.”—The Emperor returned to his chamber desiring me to follow him. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
4th. At 5 o’clock I went to meet the Emperor in the garden. He had taken too warm a bath, and in consequence found himself ill. We rode out in the calash, the weather was delightful: for several days it had been very warm and dry. Before dinner the Emperor dictated to the Grand Marshal. Madame Bertrand dined at the Admiral’s. The Emperor withdrew to his chamber immediately after dinner.
CHARACTERISTIC TRAITS.
5th—8th. During these four days, the Emperor invariably rode out on horseback about six or seven in the morning, accompanied only by me and my son.
I am enabled to affirm that I never saw Napoleon swayed either by passion or prejudice, that is to say, I never knew him to pronounce a judgment on men and things that was not dictated by reason. Even when he displays what perhaps may be called anger, it is merely the effect of transitory feeling, and never influences his actions; but I can truly say that, during the eighteen years in which I have had the opportunity of observing his character, I never knew him to act in contradiction to reason.
Another fact which has come to my knowledge, and which I note down here because it recurs to my memory at this moment, is that, either from nature, calculation, or the habit of preserving dignity, he for the most part represses and conceals the painful sensations which he experiences, and still more, perhaps, the kind emotions of his heart. I have frequently observed him repressing feelings of sensibility, as if he thought that they compromised his character. Of this I shall hereafter adduce proofs. Meanwhile, the following characteristic trait so perfectly corresponds with the object of this journal, namely, that of showing the man as he really is, and seizing nature in the fact, that I cannot refrain from mentioning it.
For some days past, Napoleon seemed to have something deeply at heart. A domestic circumstance which had occurred vexed and ruffled him exceedingly. During the last three days, in our rides about the park, he several times alluded to this circumstance with considerable warmth, desiring me to keep close by his side, and ordering my son to ride on before. On one of these occasions the following observation escaped him:—"I know I am fallen. But to feel this among you!"... These words, the gesture, the tone that accompanied them, pierced my very heart. I was ready to throw myself at his feet, and embrace his knees. “I know,” continued he, “that man is frequently unreasonable and susceptible. Thus, when I am mistrustful of myself, I asked, should I have been treated so at the Tuileries? This is my sure test.”
He then spoke of himself, of us, of our reciprocal relations, of our situation in the island, and the influence which our individual circumstances might enable us to exercise. His reflections on these subjects were numerous, powerful, and just. In the emotion with which this conversation inspired me, I exclaimed: “Sire, permit me to take this affair upon myself. It certainly never could have been viewed in this light. If the matter were explained, I am sure it would excite deep sorrow and repentance! I only ask permission to say a single word.” The Emperor replied with dignity:—"No, sir; I forbid it. I have opened my heart to you. Nature has had her course. I shall forget it; and you must seem never to have known it."
On our return, we breakfasted all together in the garden, and the Emperor was more than usually cheerful. In the evening he dined in his own apartment.