This Prince, tossed about and deceived by the English, who wished to make him their instrument, and repulsed by his relatives, seemed determined to renounce the world, and, as if he had felt his existence disgraced by his contempt of mankind and his disgust at things, he voluntarily lost himself altogether in the crowd.
The Emperor said that, after the battle of Leipsic, he had been informed on the part of Gustavus, that he had no doubt been his enemy a long time; but that, for a long time, he (Napoleon) was of all others the sovereign of whom he had the least to complain, and that, for a long time also, his only sentiments with regard to him were those of admiration and sympathy; that his actual misfortunes permitted him to express his feelings without restraint; that he offered to be his Aide-de-camp, and requested an asylum in France.[[6]] “I was affected,” observed the Emperor; “but I soon reflected that if I received him, my dignity would be pledged to make exertions in his favour. Besides, I no longer ruled the world, and then common minds would not fail to discover in the interest I took for him, an impotent hatred against Bernadotte; finally, Gustavus had been dethroned by the voice of the people, and it was the voice of the people by which I had been elevated. In taking up his cause, I should have been guilty of inconsistency in my own conduct, and have acted upon discordant principles. In short, I dreaded lest I should render affairs more complicated than they were, and silenced my feelings of generosity. I caused him to be answered that I appreciated what he offered me, and that I was sensible of it, but that the political interest of France did not allow me to indulge in my private feelings, and that it even imposed upon me the painful task of refusing, for the moment, the asylum which he asked; that he would, however, greatly deceive himself, if he supposed me to entertain any other sentiments than those of extreme good will and sincere wishes for his happiness, &c.
“Some time after the expulsion of Gustavus, while the succession to the Crown was vacant, the Swedes, desirous of recommending themselves to me and securing the protection of France, asked me to give them a King. My attention was, for an instant, turned to the Viceroy; but it would have been necessary for him to change his religion, which I deemed beneath my dignity and that of all those who belonged to me. Besides, I did not think the political result sufficiently important to excuse an action so contrary to our manners. I attached, however, too much value to the idea of seeing the throne of Sweden in possession of a Frenchman. It was, in my situation, a puerile sentiment. The real King, according to my political system and the true interests of France, would have been the King of Denmark, because I should then have governed Sweden by the influence of my simple contact with the Danish provinces. Bernadotte was elected, and he was indebted for his elevation to his wife, the sister-in-law of my brother Joseph, who then reigned at Madrid.
“Bernadotte, affecting great dependence on me, came to ask my approbation, protesting, with too visible an anxiety, that he would not accept the Crown, unless it was agreeable to me.[me.]
“I, the elected Monarch of the people, had to answer that I could not set myself against the elections of other nations. It was what I told Bernadotte, whose whole attitude betrayed the anxiety excited by the expectation of my answer. I added that he had only to take advantage of the good-will of which he had been the object; that I wished to be considered as having had no weight in his election, but that it had my approbation and my best wishes. I felt, however, shall I say it, a secret instinct, which made the thing disagreeable and painful. Bernadotte was, in fact, the serpent which I nourished in my bosom; he had scarcely left us before he attached himself to the system of our enemies, and we were obliged to watch and dread him. At a later period, he was one of the great active causes of our calamities; it was he who gave to our enemies the key of our political system and communicated the tactics of our armies; it was he who pointed out to them the way to the sacred soil! In vain would he excuse himself by saying that, in accepting the Crown of Sweden, he was thenceforth bound to be a Swede only; pitiful excuse, valid only with those of the populace and the vulgar that are ambitious! In taking a wife, a man does not renounce his mother, still less is he bound to transfix her bosom and tear out her entrails. It is said that he afterwards repented, that is to say, when it was no longer time, and when the mischief was done. The fact is that, in finding himself once more among us, he perceived that opinion exacted justice of him; he felt himself struck with death. Then the film fell from his eyes; for it is not known to what dreams his presumption and his vanity might have incited him in his blindness.”[blindness.”]
At[At] the end of this and many other things besides, I presumed to observe to him, as a very fantastical and extraordinary matter of chance, that Bernadotte, the soldier, elevated to a Crown, for which Protestantism was a necessary qualification, was actually born a Protestant, and that his son, destined, on that account, to reign over the Scandinavians, presented himself in the midst of them precisely with the national name of Oscar. “My dear Las Cases,” replied the Emperor, “it is because that chance, so often cited, of which the ancients made a deity, which astonishes us every day and strikes us every instant, does not, after all, appear so singular, so capricious, so extraordinary, but in consequence of our ignorance of the secret and altogether natural causes, by which it is produced; and yet this single combination is sufficient to create the marvellous and give birth to mysteries. Here, for instance, with respect to the first point, that of having been born a Protestant, let not the honour of that circumstance be assigned to chance; blot that out. With regard to the second, the name of Oscar; I was his godfather, and, when I gave him the name, I doted upon Ossian; it presented itself, of course, very naturally. You now see how simple that is which so greatly astonished you.”
At the end of this conversation, the Emperor returned to Paul; he talked of the passionate fits brought upon him by the perfidy of the English ministry. He had been promised Malta, the moment it was taken possession of, and accordingly, he was in great haste to get himself nominated Grand Master. Malta reduced, the English ministers denied that they had promised it to him. It is confidently stated that, on the reading of this shameful falsehood, Paul felt so indignant that, seizing the dispatch in full Council, he ran his sword through it, and ordered it to be sent back in that condition, by way of answer. “If it be a folly,” said the Emperor, “it must be allowed that it is the folly of a noble soul; it is the indignation of virtue, which was incapable, until then, of suspecting such baseness.”
At the same time, the English ministers, treating with us for the exchange of prisoners, refused to include, on the same scale, the Russian prisoners taken in Holland, who were in the actual service and fought for the sole cause of the English. “I had,” said the Emperor, “hit upon the bent of Paul’s character. I seized time by the forelock; I collected these Russians; I clothed them and sent them back to him without any expense. From that instant, his generous heart was altogether devoted to me; and, as I had no interest in opposition to Russia, and should never have spoken or acted but with justice, there was no doubt that I should be able, for the future, to have had the Cabinet of St. Petersburgh at my disposal. Our enemies were sensible of the danger, and it has been thought that this good-will of Paul proved fatal to him. That might have been the case; for there are Cabinets with whom nothing is sacred.”
It has been already mentioned that the Emperor complained that the Prince of Ponte-Corvo (Bernadotte) was scarcely in Sweden before he had occasion to distrust and counteract his schemes. The following letter is a decisive proof of this assertion, and also contains an important exposition of the continental system.
“Tuileries, August 8, 1811.