I mentioned to the Emperor, what I had already remarked, namely, that the great mass of the emigrants were far from being unjust to him. The sensible part of the old aristocracy disliked him, it is true, but only because he proved an obstacle to their views. They knew how to appreciate his achievements and his talents, which they admired in spite of their inclination. Even the fanatics acknowledged that he had but one fault: “Why is he not legitimate?” they were frequently heard to say. Austerlitz staggered us, though it did not subdue us; but Tilsit prostrated every thing. “Your Majesty,” said I, “might yourself have judged of this, and have enjoyed on your return the unanimity of homage, acclamation, and good wishes.”
“That is to say,” observed the Emperor, smiling, “if, at that time, I could or would have indulged in repose and pleasure; if I had resigned myself to indolence, if every thing had resumed its old course, you would have adored me? But if such had been my taste and inclination, and certainly nothing was more opposite to my natural disposition, circumstances would not have permitted me to act as I pleased.”
The Emperor then adverted to the numerous difficulties by which he had been incessantly surrounded and controlled; and, alluding to the Spanish war, he said, “That unlucky war ruined me; it divided my forces, obliged me to multiply my efforts, and caused my principles to be assailed: and yet it was impossible to leave the Peninsula a prey to the machinations of the English, the intrigues, the hopes, and the pretensions of the Bourbons. Besides, the Spanish Bourbons were not calculated to inspire much fear. Nationally they were foreign to us, and we to them. At the castle of Marrach, and at the Bayonne, I observed that Charles IV. the Queen knew no difference between Madame de Montmorency and the new ladies: the names of the latter were indeed rendered more familiar to them by the newspapers and public documents. The Empress Josephine, who had the most delicate tact on matters of this sort, never ceased alluding to the circumstance. The Spanish Royal Family implored me to adopt a daughter, and to create her a Princess of the Asturias. They pointed out Mademoiselle de Tascher, afterwards Duchess of Aremberg; but I had personal reasons for objecting to this choice. For a moment I decided on Mademoiselle de la Rochefoucault, afterwards Princess Aldobrandini; but I wanted some one sincerely devoted to my interests, a true Frenchwoman, possessing talent and information, and I could not fix on one endowed with all the qualities I wished for.”
Then returning to the war in Spain, the Emperor resumed:—"This combination ruined me. All the circumstances of my disasters are connected with that fatal knot: it destroyed my moral power in Europe, rendered my embarrassments more complicated, and opened a school for the English soldiers. It was I who trained the English army in the Peninsula.
"Events have proved that I committed a great fault in the choice of my means; for the fault lies in the means much more than in the principles. It cannot be doubted that, in the crisis in which France then was, in the struggle of new ideas, in the great cause of the age against the rest of Europe, we could not leave Spain behind, at the disposal of our enemies: it was absolutely necessary to enchain her, voluntarily, or by force, in our system. The destiny of France required this: and the code of the welfare of nations is not always that of individuals. Besides, to political necessity was here superadded for me the force of right. Spain, when she saw me in danger, Spain, when she knew that my hands were full at Jena, had almost declared war against me. The insult ought not to pass unpunished: I could declare war in my turn, and assuredly the success could not be doubtful. It was this very facility that misled me. The nation despised its government: it called loudly for a regeneration. From the height to which Fortune had raised me, I considered myself called, I considered it worthy of me to accomplish in peace so great an event. I was solicitous to spare blood, that not a drop should stain the Castilian emancipation. I therefore delivered the Spaniards from their abominable institutions; I gave them a liberal constitution; I deemed it necessary, perhaps too lightly, to change their dynasty. I placed one[one] of my brothers at their head; but he was the only foreigner among them. I respected the integrity of their territory, their independence, their manners, the remnant of their laws. The new monarch gained the capital, having no other ministers, no other councillors, no other courtiers, but those of the late Court. My troops were about to withdraw: I had done the greatest benefit that ever was conferred on a nation—so I said to myself, and so I still say. The Spaniards themselves, as I have been assured, thought so in their hearts, and never complained of any thing but the forms. I expected their blessings, but I was disappointed: disdaining interest, they thought only of the insult: they were indignant at the idea of an affront, enraged at the sight of force, and all flew to arms. The Spaniards, collectively, behaved like men of honour. I have nothing to say on that head: but, if they triumphed, they have been cruelly punished for it. Perhaps they are to be pitied.... They deserved better."
The Emperor dined with us to-day; it was long since we had enjoyed his company. After dinner he read to us Florian’s novel of Claudine, and some extracts from Paul and Virginia, a work which he says he is very fond of, on account of early recollections.
The Adamant transport has arrived. This vessel a short time ago missed the island. She formed part of a convoy, the remainder of which arrived nearly a month back. These ships brought the famous wooden palace, accounts of which have filled all the newspapers in England, and probably in Europe; and also the furniture, about which the papers have also made a great parade. The wooden palace proved to be nothing more than a number of rough planks, which no one knows how to put together at St. Helena, and which it would require several years to fit up. The splendour of the other articles was of course well suited to our situation. Ostentation, pomp, and luxury, were for Europe; truth and wretchedness for St. Helena.
THE ILIAD.—HOMER.
7th.—The Governor came to Longwood about four o’clock, and went over the establishment without asking to see any one. His ill-humour was visibly increased, his manners had become fierce and brutal.
About five o’clock the Emperor sent for me; the Grand Marshal had been with him for some time. When he went away, the Emperor began to talk with me upon literature; and we reviewed almost every epic poem, ancient and modern. When conversing on the Iliad, he took up an edition of Homer, and read aloud several cantos. The Emperor greatly admired the Iliad. “It was,” he said, "like the Books of Moses, the token and the pledge of the age in which it was produced. Homer, in his epic poem, has proved himself a poet, an orator, an historian, a legislator, a geographer, and a theologist. He may be justly called the encyclopedist of the period in which he flourished.”[flourished.”]