2d.—The Emperor did not leave his chamber to-day. When I waited on him, I found him very unwell from the effects of cold; and the secretion of saliva still continued.
I remained with him the greater part of the day. He sometimes endeavoured to converse, and sometimes tried to sleep. He was very restless, and often drew near the fire. He was evidently feverish.
In the course of the day, the conversation turned upon Antwerp; its arsenal, its fortifications, its importance, and the great military and political views he entertained with respect to that favourably situated place.
He remarked that he had done much for Antwerp, but that this was little in comparison with what he had proposed to do. He intended to have rendered it a fatal point of attack to the enemy by sea, and by land to have made it a certain resource, and a point of national security in case of great disasters. He would have rendered Antwerp capable of receiving a whole army in its defeat, and holding out against a close siege for the space of a year, during which time, he said, a nation would be enabled to rally in a mass for its deliverance, and to resume the offensive. Five or six places of this kind were, he added, to constitute the new system of defence, which he intended to have established. The works, which had been completed in so short a time at Antwerp, the numerous dock-yards, magazines, and canals, were already the subject of admiration; but all this the Emperor declared to be nothing. Antwerp was as yet, he said, merely a commercial town; the military town was to be constructed on the opposite bank of the river. For this purpose, ground had been purchased at a low rate, and it was to have been sold again at a high profit for the purpose of building; so that by this speculation, the expenses attending the enterprise would have been considerably diminished. The winter docks would have been capable of admitting three-deckers with all their guns on board; and covered dry docks were to have been constructed for laying up vessels in time of peace.
The Emperor remarked that the scheme he had formed would have rendered Antwerp a stupendous and colossal bulwark; and that it would have been a whole province in itself. Adverting to this superb establishment, he observed, that it had been one of the causes of his exile to St. Helena; that the demand for the cession of Antwerp was one of the circumstances which led him to reject the conditions of peace proposed at Chatillon. If the Allies had agreed to leave him in possession of Antwerp, he would in all probability have concluded peace; and he questioned whether he had not done wrong in refusing to sign the proposed ultimatum. “At that period,” said he, “I had doubtless many resources and chances; but yet, how much may be said in favour of the resolution I adopted! I did right,” added he, “in refusing to sign the ultimatum, and I fully explained my reasons for that refusal; therefore, even here, on this rock, amidst all my misery, I have nothing to repent of. I am aware, that few will understand me; but, in spite of the fatal turn of events, even the common mass of mankind must now be convinced that duty and honour left me no other alternative. If the Allies had thus far succeeded in degrading me, would they have stopped there? Were their offers of peace and reconciliation sincere? I knew them too well to put faith in their professions. Would they not have availed themselves of the immense advantages afforded them by the treaty, to finish by intrigue what they had commenced by force of arms? Then where would have been the safety, independence, and future welfare of France? Where would have been my honour, my vows? Would not the Allies have ruined me in the estimation of the people as effectually as they ruined me on the field of battle? They would have found public opinion too ready to receive the impression which it would have been their aim to give to it! How would France have reproached me for suffering foreigners to parcel out the territory that had been intrusted to my care! How many faults would have been attributed to me by the unjust and the unfortunate! Could the French people, full of the recollections of their glory, have patiently endured the burdens that would inevitably[inevitably] have been imposed on them? Hence would have arisen fresh commotions, anarchy, and desolation! I preferred risking the last chances of battle, determining to abdicate in case of necessity.”[[1]]
I acknowledged the justice of the Emperor’s observations. He had lost the throne, it is true, but voluntarily; and, because he chose rather to renounce it than compromise our welfare and his own honour. History will appreciate this sublime sacrifice. Power and life are transitory; but glory endures and is immortal.
“But, after all,” said the Emperor, “the historian will, perhaps, find it difficult to do me justice; the world is so overwhelmed with libels and falsehoods, my actions have been so misrepresented, my character so darkened and misunderstood.” To this, some one present replied that doubt could exist only during his life; that injustice would be confined solely to his contemporaries; that, as he had himself already remarked, the clouds would disperse in proportion as his memory advanced in posterity; that his character would rise daily and become the noblest subject for the pen of history; and that, though the first catastrophe might have proved fatal to his memory, owing to the outcry that was then raised against him, yet the prodigies[prodigies] of his return, the acts of his brief government, and his exile to St. Helena, now left him crowned with glory in the eyes of nations and posterity. “That is very true,” replied the Emperor, with an air of satisfaction, “and my fate may be said to be the very opposite of others. A fall usually has the effect of lowering a man’s character, but, on the contrary, my fall has elevated me prodigiously. Every succeeding day divests me of some portion of my tyrant’s skin.”
After a few moment’s silence, the conversation was resumed, on the subject of Antwerp and the English expedition. “The English Government and its General” said the Emperor, “seemed to vie with each other in want of skill. If Lord Chatham, to whom our soldiers gave the nickname of Milord J’attends, had resolved to make an energetic movement, he might, doubtless, have destroyed our valuable establishment by a coup de main, but, the first moment being lost, and our fleet having got in, the place was secure. There was a great deal of exaggeration respecting the efforts and measures taken for the safety of Antwerp. The zeal of the citizens was excited only for secret and criminal designs.”
On mentioning some facts, of which I had been a witness, I happened to observe that it was generally marshals who reviewed armies; but that here the rule had been reversed, and armies reviewed their marshals, three of whom had succeeded each other in a very short time. “Political circumstances,” said the Emperor, “called for this change. I sent Bessieres to Antwerp, because the crisis demanded a firm and confidential man; but, as soon as the critical period was expired, I sent another to succeed Bessieres, because I wished to have the latter near me.”
The maritime works of Antwerp, notwithstanding their immense extent, are but a small portion of those which were executed by Napoleon. Having been attached, as a member of the Council of State, to the department of the marine, I possess, ex officio, an account of these works, a list of which I will here insert, in geographical order, proceeding from South to North.