Transcriber’s Note:

Footnotes have been collected at the end of each chapter, and are linked for ease of reference.

Minor errors, attributable to the printer, have been corrected. Please see the transcriber’s [note] at the end of this text for details regarding the handling of any textual issues encountered during its preparation.

This is the fourth of four volumes, which can be found at Project Gutenberg here:

The cover image has been created, based on title page information, and is added to the public domain.

Corrections made to the text will appear as correction, which serve as links to the corresponding entry in the end notes. The original text can be viewed when the cursor is placed over the correction.

Corrections made to the text will appear as correction, which serve as links to the corresponding entry in the end notes.

Rob^t. Cooper Scul^t.
Count de Las Cases.

MEMOIRS
OF
THE LIFE, EXILE,
AND
CONVERSATIONS,
OF THE
EMPEROR NAPOLEON.

BY

THE COUNT DE LAS CASES.

A NEW EDITION.

WITH PORTRAITS

AND NUMEROUS OTHER EMBELLISHMENTS.

VOL. IV.

LONDON:

PUBLISHED FOR HENRY COLBURN,

BY RICHARD BENTLEY; BELL AND BRADFUTE, EDINBURGH; J. CUMMING, DUBLIN: AND ALL BOOKSELLERS.

MDCCCXXXVI.

ANDOVER: STEREOTYPED AND PRINTED BY B. BENSLEY.

NAPOLEON’S HUMANITY.
London: Published for Henry Colburn, December, 1835.

MEMOIRS

OF

THE EMPEROR NAPOLEON.

REMOVAL OF FOUR PERSONS OF OUR ESTABLISHMENT.--RECOLLECTIONS
OF THE EMPEROR’S EARLY LIFE.

Oct. 18, 1816.—I did not see the Emperor until five o’clock, when he sent for me to attend him in the drawing-room. He continued indisposed; but he had been engaged all the morning in dictating to the Grand Marshal. He summoned all the persons of his suite in succession. He was low-spirited and heavy; but at the same time there was a certain restlessness about him. He sought to amuse himself in various ways. He first tried chess, then dominos, and then chess again; but he was at length compelled to return to his chamber, finding it impossible to sit up. The state of the weather, joined to the vexations to which we are exposed, concur in producing torments almost beyond endurance. The weather has an effect on the nerves, and the persecutions that are heaped upon us are still worse to bear. Every word uttered by the Governor increases our misery. To-day he had signified his intention of removing four of our establishment, which has been the cause of general lamentation among the household: the individuals singled out for removal regret their separation from their companions; while those who are to remain are tormented by the fear of speedily sharing the same fate. We compared Sir Hudson Lowe to Scylla, devouring the four companions of Ulysses.

The Governor has informed me that he also intends removing my servant, who is an inhabitant of the island, and with whom I am very well satisfied. He is doubtless afraid that the man will become too much attached to me. He proposes to send me a servant of his own choosing, a favour for which I feel very grateful, though I have no intention of availing myself of the kind offer.

At dinner the Emperor ate but little. During the dessert, however, his spirits revived a little, and we began to converse on the events of his early life. This is a subject on which he delights to dwell, and which always affords him a source of new and lively interest. He repeated many of the particulars which I have already related at different times. He said that he loved to go back to that happy age when all is gaiety and enjoyment;—that happy period of hope and rising ambition, when the world first opens before us, and the mind fondly cherishes every romantic dream. He spoke of his regiment, and the pleasures he had enjoyed when he first mingled in society. On mentioning the different balls and fêtes which he had attended in his youthful days, he described one as having been particularly splendid. “But,” said he, “at that time my notions of splendour were very different from what they now are.”

Alluding to the date of certain circumstances, he observed that it would be difficult for him to divide his life year by year. We observed that if he would only date the events of four or five years, we could easily take all the rest upon ourselves. He reverted to his military début at Toulon, the circumstances that first called him into notice, the sudden ascendency which he acquired by his first successes, and the ambition with which they inspired him: “And yet,” said he, “I was far from entertaining a high opinion of myself. It was not till after the battle of Lodi that I conceived those lofty notions of ambition which were confirmed in Egypt, after the victory of the Pyramids and the possession of Cairo. Then,” said he, “I willingly resigned myself to every brilliant dream.”

The Emperor had become very cheerful and talkative, and he did not retire until midnight. We looked upon this as a sort of resuscitation.

MADAME DE GENLIS’ NOVELS.

19th.—Our four proscripts, namely, the Pole, Santini, Archambault, and Rousseau, left us about the middle of the day. In an hour they sailed for the Cape with a brisk wind.

About three o’clock the Emperor sent for me. He was in the drawing-room, and he desired to have Madame de Genlis’ novels brought to him. He read a few pages aloud; but he soon laid down the books, observing that they told him nothing. It was not so with me: the few pages that I had just heard touched many tender strings. They presented a picture of the elegant society of Paris, detailed the names of streets and monuments, described familiar conversations, and retraced well-known portraits: all this produced a forcible impression on me. The realities exist, I myself exist, and yet we are separated, by distance, time, and, doubtless, by eternity! I could at this moment look with indifference on pleasure and gaiety; but the recollection of persons and places, which had thus been revived, filled me with feelings of deep melancholy and regret.

The Grand Marshal now arrived, and the Emperor dictated to him till dinner-time.

In the evening the Emperor asked for the Arabian Nights; but he was unable to read, and soon laid aside the book.

VALUATION OF THE BOOKS SENT OUT TO US.—THE
GRAND MARSHAL COMES TO LIVE NEARER TO US.

20th.—I spent the day in estimating the value of the books sent to us from London, and for which an enormous sum is claimed from the Emperor. Our valuation did not amount to even half that sum.

The Emperor did not appear in the drawing-room until a moment before dinner; he had not, he said, seen any body the whole day; he had sought for diversion, and found it in continued application. After dinner he again took up the Arabian Nights.

The Grand Marshal and his family have this day left Hut’s Gate, their first residence, which was situated about one league from Longwood. They have at last taken possession of their new house, by which means we are now nearly under the same roof. This was quite an event for them and for us.

EXPEDITION OF ST. LOUIS IN EGYPT.—OUR FEMALE AUTHORS.—MADAME DE STAEL.—THE WRITERS INIMICAL TO NAPOLEON WILL BITE AGAINST GRANITE.

21st.—I went after breakfast to see Madame Bertrand. She was so confined at Hut’s Gate that she will have no cause to regret being shut up within our enclosure, and we shall be very great gainers by it. For my part it seemed to me as if I had found part of my family.

Our limits become every day more circumscribed. The number of sentries is augmented, every thing reminds us incessantly of our horrible prison.

The Emperor said to me, whilst he was dressing, “that he was determined to apply, once more, regularly to his occupations, which had been interrupted by the late ill-treatment from our horrible Governor.” I urged him to do so with all my might, as well for his own sake as for ours, and for France and History.

The weather was too bad to allow the Emperor to take the air. He went into his library, and looked over the History of the Crusades by Michaud, and the Memoirs of Joinville. He then went to the drawing-room, and conversed for some time longer; particularly respecting the servant whom they wish to take from me, the one they intend to give me, &c.

The Governor will only give for the Emperor’s plate a sum more than one fifth less than the plate is valued at in Paris, and yet he will neither allow any competition for the sale of it in the Island, nor of its being taken to London!...

The unfortunate people that have been shipped for the Cape will be fed like common sailors. I have heard, on this occasion, that the same thing took place on board the Northumberland, and that the Emperor’s servants had not had any indulgence more than the common sailors, except by paying for it.

After dinner the Emperor read, in Joinville, an account of the expedition of St. Louis in Egypt. He analysed it, pointing out its defects, and comparing the movements and the plan of that Expedition with the plan adopted by himself; concluding that “if he had acted in the same manner as St. Louis had done, he should undoubtedly have shared the same fate.”

The Emperor retired early and sent for me. The conversation again fell upon his excursions in Egypt, and in Syria. Matilda, a novel, by Madam Cottin, the scene of which is laid in those countries, being incidentally mentioned, led the Emperor to take a review of our female authors. He spoke of Madame Roland and her Memoirs, of Madame de Genlis, of Madame Cottin, whose Claire d’Albe he had just been reading, and of Madame de Staël. He spoke at length about the latter, and repeated in part what has already been said. Speaking of her exile, he said: “Her house had become quite an arsenal against me; people went there to be dubbed knights. She endeavoured to raise enemies against me and fought against me herself. She was at once Armida and Clorinda.” Then, summing up his arguments as he was wont to do, he said: “After all, it cannot be denied that Madame de Staël is a very distinguished woman, endowed with great talents and possessing a considerable share of wit. She will go down to posterity. It was more than once hinted to me, in order to soften me in her favour, that she was an adversary to be feared, and might become a useful ally; and certainly if, instead of reviling me as she did, she had spoken in my praise, it might no doubt have proved advantageous to me; for her position and her abilities gave her an absolute sway over the saloons, and their influence in Paris is well known.” He then added, “Notwithstanding all that she has said against me, and all that she will yet say, I am certainly far from thinking or saying that she has a bad heart: the fact is, that she and I have waged a little war against each other, and that is all.” Then taking a review of the numerous writers who have declaimed against him, he said: “I am destined to be their food, but I have little fear of becoming their victim; they will bite against granite; my history is made up of facts, and words alone cannot destroy them. In order to fight against me successfully, somebody should appear in the lists armed with the weight and authority of facts on his side. If such a man as the great Frederick, or any other man of his cast, were to take to writing against me, it would be a different thing; it would then, perhaps, be time for me to begin to be moved; but as for all other writers, whatever be their talent, their efforts will be vain. My fame will survive: and when they wish to be admired, they will sound my praise.”

CARE TAKEN OF THE WOUNDED IN THE ARMIES.—BARON
LARREY.—CHARACTERISTIC CIRCUMSTANCE.

22nd—23d. The weather has been very bad. The Emperor, suffering greatly from the tooth-ache, and having a swelled cheek, has not been able to go out for the last two days. I have spent the greatest part of them with him, in his apartment, or in the drawing-room, which he has converted into a promenade, by opening the doors of communication from one to the other.

Amongst the various subjects of our conversation, he once told me certain things which he had heard, and at which I much rejoiced. Nothing can give a more striking proof of the horrors of our situation than the importance which I attached to them. But every thing is in proportion to the situation in which we are placed.

At another time, the Emperor expressed his regret at being so lazy with respect to the English language. I told him that he now knew as much of it as he wanted. He could read all books; it was now only necessary to reduce the whole to a regular system—but, were the rule and compass fit things for him?

After going through several subjects of conversation, the Emperor spoke of Baron Larrey, on whom he passed the highest encomium, saying that Larrey had left the impression on his mind of a truly honest man; that to science he united, in the highest degree, the virtue of active philanthropy: he looked upon all the wounded as belonging to his family; every consideration gave way before the care which he bestowed upon the hospitals. “In our first campaigns under the Republic, which have been so much calumniated,” said the Emperor, “a most fortunate revolution took place in the surgical department, which has since spread to all the armies of Europe; and to Larrey it is, in great measure, that mankind is indebted for it. The surgeon now shares the dangers of the soldier: it is in the midst of the fire that he devotes his attentions to him. Larrey possesses all my esteem and my gratitude,” &c.

This favourable impression seems clearly to have occupied Napoleon’s mind in his last moments; for he has left Larrey a mark of his remembrance, with this honourable testimony “The most virtuous man that I have known.” On reading these words, I concluded that some peculiar circumstance must have produced this most magnificent expression of esteem, and the following is the result of my inquiries.

After the battles of Lützen, Wurtzen, and Bautzen, the victorious Napoleon sent for the surgeon (Larrey), to ascertain, as usual, the number of the wounded, and the state in which they were. They happened to be, on this occasion, considerably more numerous than at other times and in other engagements. The Emperor was surprised at this circumstance, and endeavoured to explain the cause of it. M. Larrey thought that, independently of local causes, it might be found in the great number of soldiers who had fought on that day for the first time, and who were, on that account, more awkward in their movements, and less expert in avoiding danger. The Emperor, whose mind was extremely pre-occupied by this affair, was not satisfied with this explanation, and made inquiries elsewhere. As there were, at that moment, several persons who were heartily tired of war; who would have wished for peace on any conditions; and who would not have been sorry to see the Emperor compelled to make it, whether from the effect of calculation or conviction; the Emperor was told, in answer to his inquiries, that the immense number of wounded ought not to be a matter of surprise; that the greatest proportion of them were wounded in the hand, and they had inflicted the wound on themselves, in order to be disabled from fighting. The Emperor was thunderstruck at this information; he repeated his inquiries, and found them attended with the same result; he was in a state of despair. “If it be thus,” he exclaimed, “notwithstanding our success, our situation is hopeless: France will be delivered up defenceless to the barbarians.”[barbarians.”] And turning over in his mind by what means he should put a stop to this contagion, he ordered all the wounded of a certain description to be put on one side; and named a commission, composed of surgeons, with Larrey at their head, to examine their wounds, resolved to punish most severely those who should be found to have been so cowardly as to mutilate themselves. M. Larrey, still unwilling to believe in this voluntary self-mutilation, which, in his opinion, was a stain on the honour of the army and of the nation, appeared before the Emperor to state his opinion once more to him. But Napoleon, incensed at his obstinacy, which some persons had taken care to magnify in his eyes, said to him, with severity, “Sir, you will make your observations to me officially;—go and fulfil your duty.”

Baron Larrey immediately applied to the business, but in a solemn manner; he followed up the most trifling details, and therefore proceeded slowly, whilst various motives rendered many persons impatient to see the issue; and it was known that the Emperor himself was not less impatient. Some persons did not fail to point out to M. Larrey the delicate situation in which he was placed; but he turned a deaf ear to all observations, and remained unmoved. At last, after some days, he went to the Emperor, insisting upon being allowed to deliver his report himself. “Well Sir,” said the Emperor, “Do you still persist in your opinion?”—“More than that, Sire, I am come to prove to your Majesty that I was right; these brave young men were basely calumniated: I have spent a considerable time in the strictest investigation, and I have not found one single man guilty; there is a deposition in writing on the individual case of every one of those wounded men: bales of them follow me; your Majesty may order them to be examined.” The Emperor looked at him with a gloomy expression, and, taking his report with a kind of emotion, he said, “Very well, Sir, I will look into it;” and he paced the room with rapid strides, with an air of agitation and indecision; at last, coming up to Larrey with an open countenance, he shook him cordially by the hand, and said, with emotion: “Farewell, M. Larrey, a sovereign is truly fortunate to have to do with such men as you are; you will receive my orders.” M. Larrey received the same evening from Napoleon his picture set in diamonds, 6000 francs in gold, and a pension on the State of 3000 francs, independent, it was said, of every other reward to which he might be entitled by his rank, his seniority, and his future services. Such traits are invaluable for history; as they exhibit, on the one hand, an honest man who does not hesitate to defend truth against a sovereign prepossessed and incensed; and because they display, on the other, the noble mind of the sovereign in the happiness and the gratitude which he expressed on being undeceived.

THE EMPEROR ACCEPTS MY FOUR THOUSAND LOUIS.—TRAGEDY OF EURIPIDES IN ITS ORIGINAL PURITY ORDERED FOR THE THEATRE AT SAINT-CLOUD.—MARSHAL JOURDAN.

24th.—The Emperor has not been out, he has not sent for any of us, and he has not appeared at dinner. This made us fear that he was ill. After ten o’clock he sent for me, as I was not yet in bed. He told me he had not left his sofa the whole day; he had been reading for nearly eighteen hours. He had only taken a little soup. He had had the tooth-ache. I told him we had feared that it was something more serious, for our grief at not seeing him was always increased by apprehension.

In a short time, he began to touch upon our pecuniary resources. He had, as he humorously expressed it, held his Council in the morning; the plate had been weighed, and the quantity that was to be sold had been computed; the produce of it, he added, would enable us to go on for some time longer. I again renewed the offer of the four thousand Louis which I had in the English funds, and he deigned to accept them. “Mine is a singular situation,” said he; “I have no doubt that if a communication were allowed with me, and my relatives, or even many strangers, could suspect that I am in want, I should soon be amply provided with every thing that I require; but ought I to be a burthen to my friends, and expose them to the undue advantage which the English ministers might take of their good-will? I have applied to those ministers for a few books, and they have sent them to me with all the inattention and neglect of a careless agent. They claim from me fifteen hundred or two thousand pounds sterling, that is, about 50,000 francs, for what I might certainly have procured for less than 12,000. Would it not be the same with every thing else? If I accept what you offer, it must be strictly applied to our immediate wants; for, after all, we must live, and we really cannot live upon what they give us. The small addition of one hundred Louis per month would just be sufficient, and that is the sum which you must ask for, and appropriate as carefully as possible.”

The calash then came up to us; it was driven four-in-hand by Archambaud. This could not be otherwise, since the departure of Archambaud’s brother. The Emperor refused at first to get into the carriage; he did not think it prudent, in the midst of the stumps of trees with which we were surrounded; he remembered his famous fall at Saint-Cloud, and wished one of the English servants to ride as postilion, but Archambaud protested that he should feel less secure in that manner than in driving alone. Since the departure of his brother, he said, he had been constantly practising amongst the trees, in order to be sure that he could answer for himself. The Emperor then got in the calash, and we took two turns. On our return he went to see the residence of the Grand Marshal, with which he was not yet acquainted.

The evening was terminated by reading some passages of Longepierre’s tragedy of Medea, which the Emperor interrupted, to compare it with that of Euripides on the same subject, which he ordered to be brought to him. He mentioned, on the subject, that he had formerly ordered one of the Greek tragedies to be represented at his theatre in the palace, in all its integrity, choosing the best possible translation, and imitating as closely as possible the manners, dresses, forms, and scenery of the original. He could not recollect what circumstance or what obstacle had prevented the execution of the plan.

Having retired to his apartment, and not finding himself disposed to sleep, he took some turns in his room, and threw himself on his sofa. He opened a kind of political almanack which happened to be at hand; and fell upon a list of our Marshals, which he passed in review, adding, at the same time, quotations and anecdotes already known or related. When he came to Marshal Jourdan, he dwelt for some time on the subject, and concluded by saying: “This is one who has been assuredly very ill treated by me; it was, therefore, natural to conclude that he would be highly incensed against me; but I have heard with pleasure that he has behaved with great moderation since my fall. He has set an example of that elevation of mind which serves to distinguish men, and does honour to their character. However, he was a true patriot, and that explains many things.”

SUMMARY OF JULY, AUGUST, SEPTEMBER, AND OCTOBER.—OF MR. O’MEARA’S WORK.—ACTION NOW BROUGHT AGAINST HIM BY SIR HUDSON LOWE.—A FEW WORDS IN DEFENCE OF THIS WORK.

The usual summary cannot henceforth be long; strictly speaking three sentences would suffice to trace it:

Incessant annoyance.

Absolute seclusion.

Infallible destruction.

The remainder of Napoleon’s existence will only be a cruel and prolonged agony.

It has already been seen that the arrival of a new Governor became for us the signal of the commencement of a life of misery. A few days had sufficed to unfold his disposition; and, soon afterwards, the annoyances and insults of which he made himself the instrument, or which he himself created, were carried to the highest pitch. He rendered us an object of terror to the inhabitants—he subjected us to the most cruel vexations—he forbade us to write, without a previous communication with him, even to those persons with whom he did not prevent us from conversing without restraint—he invited General Bonaparte to dine at his table, to shew him to a lady of rank who was for a short time on the island—he arrested one of our servants.

He now produces a despatch, in pursuance of which he endeavours to oblige the Emperor to go into “the meanest details of his wants,” as Napoleon expressed it, and to discuss them with him; he importunes the Emperor to give money which he does not possess; and, by dint of reductions in the common necessaries of life, obliges him to break up and sell his plate, determining at the same time, by his authority as Governor, the rate at which it is to be sold, and the person who is to purchase it. He ridiculously restricts us to one bottle of wine per head, including the Emperor. “He cheapens our existence,” said the Emperor; “he grudges me the air I breathe, and what he sends to us for our subsistence is sometimes, nay frequently, so bad that we are obliged to apply for provisions to the neighbouring camp!!” &c.

He lays a snare for Napoleon, and exults in the hope of being able to impart to him, personally and pompously, a communication which he calls a ministerial order, but which is so outrageous that he refuses to leave a copy of it; he prescribes to the Emperor the most absurd regulations; he capriciously, and with bitter irony, contracts the space of his usual limits; chalks out the trace of his footsteps; and even goes so far as to attempt to regulate the nature of his conversations and the tenour of his expressions; he surrounds us with trenches, palisadoes, and redoubts; he obliges each of us individually, in order to be allowed to remain with the Emperor, to sign a declaration that we submit to all these restrictions; he makes use of us as instruments to degrade the Emperor, by obliging us to call him Bonaparte, under pain of being immediately removed from his person and instantly sent out of the island, &c.

The Emperor, provoked by such disgraceful usage and such gratuitous insults, opens his mind without reserve to Sir Hudson Lowe; his words know no restraint; he frees himself for ever from his odious presence, and declares that he never will see him again. “The most unworthy proceeding of the English ministers,” said the Emperor to him, “is not to have sent me here, but to have delivered me into your hands. I complained of the admiral your predecessor; but he at least had a heart!... You are a disgrace to your nation, and your name will for ever be a stain upon its character!... This Governor,” the Emperor would frequently say to us, “has nothing of an Englishman in his composition; he is nothing but a worthless sbire of Sicily. I at first complained that a gaoler had been sent to me; but I now affirm that they have sent me an executioner,” &c.

I have recorded these expressions, and I might mention many more, however harsh they may be. 1st, Because I heard them uttered. 2dly, Because Napoleon used them in speaking to Sir Hudson Lowe in person, or caused them to be repeated to him. 3dly and lastly, Because they were deserved, on account of the arbitrary, oppressive, and brutal manner, in which the Governor, to the great scandal of the English themselves who were on the spot, and who then manifested their disgust at his conduct, abused the power with which he was invested in the name of a Nation so eminently distinguished all over the globe, of a Prince so universally respected in Europe, and of a Cabinet in which there were still some honourable characters, men personally known by their moderation and their elegant manners.

The vexations by which Napoleon was assailed were incessant; they pursued him at every moment of his existence. Not a day passed without the infliction of a fresh wound; and one of the torments recorded in fabulous history may be said to have been thus realized.

Ah! if, during that period of affliction for so many generous hearts, the Genius of Europe, the Genius of Truth, and the Genius of History, have ever turned even involuntarily towards St. Helena, and the great Napoleon; if they have sought for him in that island which they thought it would be right to attempt, at least, to turn into a kind of Elysium for him; what must have been their indignation to see him, in the bright glory of so many immortal actions, chained like Prometheus to a rock, and, like him, under the claws of a vulture, which delights in tearing him to pieces!!! O infamy! O eternal disgrace!...

During this period the Emperor’s health has been constantly and considerably declining; his body, which was thought so robust, which had endured so many toils, and withstood so much fatigue, supported by victory and glory, was now bending under the weight of infirmities prematurely brought on by the injustice of men. Almost every day he is attacked by some new indisposition; fever, swelled face, symptoms of scurvy, constant colds; his features are altered, his gait becomes heavy, his legs swelled, &c.... Our hearts were torn in seeing him thus hastening towards infallible destruction; all our cares are in vain.

He had long since given up riding on horseback, and by degrees, also, he almost entirely relinquished his rides in the calash. Even walking became a rare occurrence, and he was thus nearly reduced to a strict seclusion in his apartments. He no longer applied to any regular or continued occupation; he seldom dictated to us, and only upon subjects that were merely the fancy of the moment. He spent the greatest part of the day alone in his room, busied in turning over a few books, or rather doing nothing. Let those who have formed a due estimate of the power of his faculties appreciate the strength of mind required to enable him to bear, with equanimity, the intolerable burden of a life so wearisome and monotonous; for, in our presence, he always exhibited the same serenity of countenance and equality of temper. His mind appeared equally unembarrassed; his conversation offered the same lively turns of expression, and he was sometimes even inclined to mirth and humour; but, in the privacy of intimate intercourse, it was easy to perceive that he no longer thought of the future, meditated on the past, or cared about the present. He merely yielded a passive obedience to the physical laws of Nature, and, thoroughly disgusted with life, he perhaps secretly sighed for the moment which was to put an end to it.

Such was the state of affairs when I was forcibly removed from Longwood; for that period approaches—it is not far distant.

I have not noted down in the course of my Journal every minute circumstance of our quarrels with the Governor, or the numerous official communications that were exchanged between us. I have also omitted to mention all the shameful privations to which we were exposed, in respect to the necessaries and comforts of life. My object has been to show Napoleon’s character in its true light, and not to write the history of Longwood, and the catalogue of its miseries. Those who have any curiosity on that score may seek for details in the work of Mr. O’Meara. It would have argued meanness in me, who was one of the victims, had I dwelt upon them; but for the Doctor, who was only a witness, who was a stranger to us, and in some degree one of the adverse party, he can only, situated as he is, have been actuated in so doing by the impulse of a powerful feeling, and of generous indignation, which does honour to his heart.

I have just heard (1824) that the late governor of St. Helena has brought an action against Mr. O’Meara for defamation and calumny. I have the highest respect for the Judges who preside over the principal courts of justice in England, because I know how they are composed; but how can one, in these days, be certain of the result of such an action? In the unfortunate political effervescence of our times, truth appears, as it were, in two lights at the same time; the true light is, for every individual, that which exists in his own heart; for, after all, it is impossible to impose upon one’s self, and that reflection will, no doubt, be a motive of consolation to Mr. O’Meara, whatever the result may be. And I must here declare that all the facts which I have seen stated in Mr. O’Meara’s work, on the above-mentioned points, and which fell under my knowledge while I was at St. Helena, are strictly true; and thence I naturally conclude, by analogy, that the remainder, which I have not seen, is also true. I, therefore, do not hesitate to say that I consider it as such in my heart and conscience.

Whilst writing this, I have received from Sir Hudson Lowe some extracts of confidential letters which, he informs me, he received at the time from Mr. O’Meara, in which, he observes to me, O’Meara spoke of me in a very improper manner, and made secret reports to him respecting me. What can have been the intention of Sir Hudson Lowe in acting thus with me? Considering the terms on which we are together, he cannot have been prompted by a very tender interest. Did he wish to prove to me that Mr. O’Meara acted as a spy for him upon us? Did he hope so far to prepossess me against him as to influence the nature and the force of my testimony in favour of his adversary? And, after all, are these letters in their original state? have they not been altered after the fashion of St. Helena? But, even supposing their meaning to be true and explicit, in what respect can they offend me? What claim had I then on Mr. O’Meara’s indulgence? what right had I to expect it? It is true that, at a later period, after his return to Europe, seeing him persecuted and punished on account of the humanity of his conduct towards Napoleon, I wrote to him to express my heartfelt gratitude, and to offer him an asylum in my family, should injustice compel him to leave his own country; that he was welcome to share with me. But at St. Helena I hardly knew him, and I do not believe that I spoke to him ten times during my residence at Longwood. I considered him as being opposed to me by nation, by opinions, and by interest: such was the nature of my connexion with Mr. O’Meara. He was, therefore, entirely at liberty with respect to me: he might then write whatever he thought proper, and it cannot now vary the opinion which I have since formed of him. Sir Hudson Lowe intends now to insinuate that Mr. O’Meara was a double and a triple spy at the same moment, viz. for the Government, for Napoleon, and for him, Sir Hudson Lowe; but does that disprove the truth and destroy the authenticity of the facts mentioned in his book? On the contrary. And from which of the three parties could he expect to be rewarded for revealing these facts to the public? Napoleon is no more; he can expect nothing from him: and his publication has rendered the two others his bitter enemies, who have deprived him of his situation, and threaten to disturb his repose; for his real crime, in their eyes, is the warm zeal, which he has displayed, of a friend to the laws and to decorum; who, indignant at the mean and indecorous vexations to which Napoleon had been exposed, drags the true authors of them to light, in order to exculpate his country. I have, therefore, considered this tardy communication of the confidential letters which Sir Hudson Lowe has just transmitted to me, at the moment of his action against O’Meara, as a kind of interested accusation, which every one will qualify as he thinks proper. I have never even acknowledged the receipt of these letters; and still less have I ever thought of complaining of their contents.

NAPOLEON’S VIEWS AND INTENTIONS WITH RESPECT TO
THE RUSSIAN WAR.—OFFICIAL INSTRUCTIONS.

Friday, Oct. 25.—I attended the Emperor at his toilette. The weather was tolerably fine, and he went out, and walked as far as the wood. He was very feeble; for it was now ten days since he had stirred out. He felt a weakness in his knees; and remarked, that he should soon be obliged to lean on me for support.

Passing to other topics, he made many observations on the Russian war. Among other things he said: “That war should have been the most popular of any in modern times. It was a war of good sense and true interests; a war for the repose and security of all; it was purely pacific and preservative; entirely European and continental. Its success would have established a balance of power and would have introduced new combinations, by which the dangers of the present time would have been succeeded by future tranquillity. In this case, ambition had no share in my views. In raising Poland, which was the key-stone of the whole arch, I would have permitted a King of Prussia, an Archduke of Austria, or any other to occupy the throne. I had no wish to obtain any new acquisition; and I reserved for myself only the glory of doing good, and the blessings of posterity. Yet this undertaking failed, and proved my ruin, though I never acted more disinterestedly, and never better merited success. As if popular opinion had been seized with contagion, in a moment, a general outcry, a general sentiment, arose against me. I was proclaimed the destroyer of kings—I, who had created them! I was denounced as the subverter of the rights of nations—I, who was about to risk all to secure them! And people and kings, those irreconcileable enemies, leagued together and conspired against me! All the acts of my past life were now forgotten. I said, truly, that popular favour would return to me with victory; but victory escaped me, and I was ruined. Such is mankind, and such is my history; but both people and kings will have cause to regret me; and my memory will be sufficiently avenged for the injustice committed upon me: that is certain.”

If certain passages in the above conversation of Napoleon should require illustration or proof, these will be found in the following letter. The document is highly valuable on account of its date and contents; for the motives and views of the Russian expedition are here developed by Napoleon at the moment when he was about to embark in the enterprise. The vulgar were certainly far from comprehending or rendering justice to his intentions; I say the vulgar, for it is just to remark that, among statesmen and men of foresight and extended views, the Russian war was very popular. They disapproved of the moment at which it was undertaken; but they fully appreciated all the grand designs of the Emperor.

INSTRUCTIONS GIVEN TO M—--, TO SERVE AS HIS
GUIDE IN THE MISSION WHICH HE WILL HAVE TO
FULFIL IN POLAND. (APRIL 18, 1812.)

“Sir,—The high opinion which the Emperor entertains of your fidelity and talent induces him to advance you so far in his confidence, as to intrust you with a mission of the utmost political interest. This mission will require activity, prudence, and discretion.

“You are to proceed to Dresden. The ostensible object of your journey will be to present to the King of Saxony a letter, which the Emperor will deliver to you to-morrow after his levee. His Imperial and Royal Majesty has already acquainted you with his intentions; he will communicate to you verbally his final instructions respecting the overtures which you are to make to the King of Saxony.

“It is the Emperor’s intention that the King of Saxony should be treated with all the consideration to which he is entitled, from the particular esteem which his Majesty entertains for him personally. You will explain yourself both to the King and his Ministers, with unreserved candour; and you will give credit to the hints you may receive from the Count de St. Pilsac.

“With respect to Saxony, there will be no sacrifice without compensation.

“Saxony attaches but little importance to the sovereignty of the Duchy of Warsaw, as it now exists: it is a precarious and troublesome possession. The sovereignty of that fragment of Poland places Saxony in a false position with regard to Prussia, Austria, and Russia. You will develop these ideas, and treat this question in the way in which it was discussed in your presence, in his Majesty’s closet, on the 17th. You will find the cabinet of Dresden not much inclined to oppose you; its diplomacy has presented to us the same observations, on several previous occasions. The matter in question is not the dismemberment of the dominions of the King of Saxony.

“After a short stay at Dresden, you will announce your departure for Warsaw; where you will await new orders from the Emperor.

“His Imperial Majesty begs that the King of Saxony will accredit you to his Polish Ministers.

“At Warsaw, you will concert your measures with Prince ...., the Emperor’s chamberlain, and with General ..... These two persons, who are descended from the most illustrious Polish families, have promised to exercise the influence they possess among their fellow citizens, to induce them to exert every effort for securing the happiness and independence of their country. You must communicate to the government of the Grand Duchy an impulse calculated to prepare the great changes which the Emperor proposes to make in favour of the Polish nation.

“It is necessary that the Poles should second the designs of the Emperor, and co-operate in their own regeneration. They must consider France only as an auxiliary power.

“The Emperor is aware of the difficulties he will have to encounter, in his endeavours to bring about the re-establishment of Poland. That great political work will oppose the apparent and immediate interests of his allies.

“The re-establishment of Poland, by the arms of the French Empire, is a hazardous and even a perilous enterprise, in which France will have to contend against her friends as well as her enemies. We will enter into a few details on this point.

“The object which the Emperor has in view is the organization of Poland, with the whole or a portion of her old territory; and he wishes, if possible, to effect this object without engaging in war. In furtherance of this design, his Majesty has granted very extensive powers to his ambassador at St. Petersburg: he has sent to Vienna a negotiator, authorized to treat with the principal powers, and to offer great sacrifices in territory, on the part of the French Empire, by way of indemnity for the cessions to be made for the re-establishment of the kingdom of Poland.

“Europe consists of three great divisions: in the west, the French Empire; in the centre, the German States; and in the east, the Russian Empire. England can have no more influence on the continent than the Powers think fit to allow her.

“A strong organization of the centre will be necessary as a precautionary measure, lest Russia or France should one day, in order to extend their power, attempt to gain the supremacy in Europe. The French Empire is now in the enjoyment of the full energy of her existence: if she does not, at this moment, complete the political constitution of Europe, to-morrow she may lose the advantages of her situation, and fail in her enterprises.

“The conversion of Prussia into a military state, the reign and conquests of Frederick the Great, the opinions of the age, and those of the French revolution, have annihilated the Germanic Confederation. The Confederation of the Rhine is only part of a provisional system. The Princes who have been gainers would probably wish for the consolidation of that system; but those who have been losers, the people, who have suffered from the calamities of war, and the states which dread the too great increase of the French power, will seize every opportunity of opposing the maintenance of the Rhinish Confederation. Even the Princes who have been aggrandized by the new system will seek to withdraw themselves from it, as soon as time shall establish them in the possessions they have obtained. France will, in the end, find herself deprived of a protectorate, which, certainly, she will have purchased by too many sacrifices.

“The Emperor is of opinion that, ultimately, at a period which cannot be far distant, it will be proper to restore the states of Europe to their complete independence.

“The House of Austria, which possesses three extensive kingdoms, must be the soul of this independence, on account of the topographical situation of its States; but it must not be the ruling power. In case of a rupture between the two Empires of France and Russia, if the Confederation of the intermediate Powers were actuated by one and the same impulse, the ruin of one of the contending parties would necessarily ensue. The French Empire would be more exposed to danger than the Russian Empire.

“The centre of Europe must be composed of states unequal in power, and each possessing its own peculiar system of policy. These states, from their situation and political relations, will seek support in the protection of the preponderating powers; and they will be interested in the maintenance of peace, because they must always be the victims of war. With these views, after raising up new states and aggrandizing old ones, in order to fortify our system of alliance for the future, the establishment of Poland is an object of the utmost interest to the Emperor and to Europe. If the Kingdom of Poland be not restored, Europe will be without a frontier on that point; and Austria and Germany will be face to face with the most powerful Empire in the world.

“The Emperor foresees that Poland, like Prussia, will ultimately become the ally of Russia; but, if Poland should owe her restoration to France, the period of the union of the above-mentioned states will be sufficiently remote to afford time for the consolidation of the established order of things. Europe being thus organized, there will no longer be any cause of rivalry between France and Russia: these two Empires will have the same commercial interests, and will act in conformity with the same principles.

“Before the coolness with Prussia, the Emperor’s first intention was to form a solid alliance with the King of Prussia, and to place the crown of Poland on his head. There were then few obstacles to be surmounted: for Prussia was already in possession of one-third of Poland; Russia would have been left in possession of what she might have insisted on retaining; and indemnities would have been granted to Austria. But the progress of events occasioned the Emperor to alter his intentions.

“At the time of the negotiations of Tilsit, it was found necessary to create states precisely in those countries which most dreaded the power of France. The moment was favourable for the re-establishment of Poland, though it would have been the work of violence and force. The war must have been prolonged; the French army was suffering from cold and want; and Russia had armies on foot. The Emperor was touched by the generous sentiments which the Emperor Alexander manifested towards him. He experienced obstacles on the part of Austria; and he suffered his policy to be overruled by the desire of signing a peace, which he hoped to have rendered lasting, if, through the influence of Russia and Austria, England could have been prevailed on to consent to a general reconciliation.

“Prussia, after her reverses, manifested such a spirit of hatred towards France that it was deemed necessary to diminish her power. With this view, the Grand Duchy of Warsaw was created. It was placed under the dominion of the King of Saxony, a prince whose whole life had been devoted to the happiness of his subjects. Endeavours were made to conciliate the Poles, by the establishment of institutions agreeable to their tastes, and conformable with their manners and national character. But all was badly managed.

“Saxony, separated from her new possessions by Prussia, could not, with Poland, constitute a body sufficiently organized to become strong and powerful. The opening of a military road through the Prussian territory, to communicate between Saxony and Poland, greatly humbled the Prussians; and the Poles complained of disappointed hopes.

“The Emperor stipulated for the occupation of the fortresses of Prussia, in order to ensure the certainty that that power would not seek to re-kindle the torch of war. The campaign of 1809 proved the prudence of his policy. He adopted the firm resolution of labouring unremittingly to complete the system of organization in Europe, which was calculated to put a period to disastrous wars.

“The Emperor conceived that he must appear formidable, from the number of troops which he has marched towards the Vistula, and from the occupation of the fortresses of Prussia; measures which were necessary for ensuring the fidelity of his allies, and obtaining, by means of negotiations, what, perhaps, he can after all secure only by war.

“The dangers of the present circumstances are immense. The removal of armies to the distance of five hundred leagues from their native territory, cannot be unattended by risk; and Poland must rely as much on her own exertions as on the support of the Emperor. I once more repeat that, if war should ensue, the Poles must consider France only as an auxiliary, operating in aid of their own resources. Let them call to mind the time when, by their patriotism and courage, they resisted the numerous armies which assailed their independence.

“The people of the Grand Duchy wish for the re-establishment of Poland; it is for them to prepare the means by which the usurped provinces may be enabled to declare their wishes. The government of the Grand Duchy must, as soon as circumstances permit, combine, under the banner of independence, the dismembered fragments of their unfortunate country. Should it happen that any natives of Poland, under the dominion of Russia or Austria, shall refuse to return to the mother country, no attempt must be made to compel them to do so. Poland must derive her strength from her public spirit and patriotism, as well as from the institutions which will constitute the new social state.

“The object of your mission, therefore, is to enlighten, encourage, and direct the Polish patriots in their operations. You will render an account of your negotiations to the Minister for Foreign Affairs, who will acquaint the Emperor with your progress; and you will send me abstracts of your reports.

“The misfortunes and weakness of the Polish republic were occasioned by an aristocracy, which knew neither law nor restraint. At that period, as at present, the nobility were powerful; the citizens oppressed; and the great mass of the people nothing. But, even amidst these disorders, a love of liberty and independence prevailed in Poland, and long supported her feeble existence. These sentiments must have been strengthened by time and oppression. Patriotism is a feeling natural to the Poles; it exists even among members of the great families. The Emperor will fulfil, unconditionally, the promise he made, in Art. 25, of the treaty of the 9th of July, 1807, to govern the Grand Duchy by laws calculated to ensure the liberty and privileges of the people, and consistent with the tranquillity of the neighbouring states. Poland shall enjoy liberty and independence. As to the choice of her sovereign, that point will be decided by the treaty which his Majesty will sign with the other Powers. His Majesty lays no claim to the throne of Poland, either for himself or any of his family. In the great work of the restoration of Poland, he has only in view the happiness of the Poles and the tranquillity of Europe. His Majesty authorizes you to make this declaration; and to make it formally, whenever you conceive it may be useful for the interests of France and Poland.

“His Majesty has ordered me to transmit to you this note, and these instructions, in order that you may make them the subjects of conversation with the foreign ministers, who may be at Warsaw or Dresden.

“The Emperor has ordered notes to be forwarded to the Ministers of War and Foreign Affairs, of the Grand Duchy. Should pecuniary resources be wanted, his Majesty will assist the Polish treasury by assignments on the extraordinary domains, which he still possesses in Poland and Hanover.”

THE EMPEROR INDISPOSED.—ANECDOTES OF THE INTERIOR
OF THE TUILERIES.

26th.—I was informed that the Emperor was very unwell, and that he desired I would attend him. I found him in his chamber, with a handkerchief bound round his head; he was seated in an arm-chair, beside a great fire, which he had ordered to be kindled. “What,” said he, “is the severest disorder, the most acute pain, to which human nature is subject?” I replied, “That the pain of the present moment always appeared to be the most severe.”—“Then it is the tooth-ache,” said he. He had a violent secretion of saliva, and his right cheek was much swelled and inflamed. I was alone in attendance on him, and I alternately warmed a flannel and a napkin, which he kept constantly applied to the part affected, and he said he felt greatly relieved by it. He was also affected by a severe nervous cough, and occasional yawning and shivering, which denoted approaching fever.

“What a miserable thing is man!” said he, “the smallest fibre in his body, assailed by disease, is sufficient to derange his whole system! On the other hand, in spite of all the maladies to which he is subject, it is sometimes necessary to employ the executioner to put an end to him. What a curious machine is this earthly clothing! And, perhaps, I may be confined in it for thirty years longer!”

He attributed his tooth-ache to his late drive, as he had felt singularly affected by being out in the open air. “Nature is always the best counsellor,” said he; “I went out in spite of my inclination, and only in obedience to reason.”

The Doctor arrived, and he found that his patient manifested symptoms of fever. The Emperor spent the remainder of the day in his chamber, occasionally suffering severely from the tooth-ache. At intervals, when the pain abated, he walked up and down, between his armchair and the sofa, and conversed on different subjects.

At one time, he alluded to the base conduct of some of the persons who had been about him, during his power. A family, who were established in the interior of the palace, who had been loaded with benefits, and who, it may be added, behaved most disgracefully at the period of the catastrophe, were one day detected in some offence or other by the Emperor himself. He merely reproached them with their misconduct, instead of punishing them for it. “But what was the consequence?” said he, “this only served to irritate them, without affording a just example. When things are done by halves, they will always prove ineffectual. The fault must not be seen; or if seen, it must be punished,” &c.

He next mentioned a woman, who, together with her husband, held a very lucrative situation, and who was constantly complaining to him of her poverty. “She often wrote to me,” said the Emperor, “to ask for money, as though she had claims upon me; just as Madame Bertrand, or any of you might do, on your return from St. Helena.”

Alluding to a person who had behaved very ill to him in 1814, he said: “Probably you will suppose that he fled on my return? No such thing; on the contrary, I was beset by him. He very coolly acknowledged that he had felt a transient attachment for the Bourbons, for which, however, he assured me he had been severely punished. But this, he said, had served only to revive the natural affection which all so justly entertained for me. I spurned him from me; and I have good reason to believe, that he is now at the feet of the Royal family, relating all sorts of horrors about me. Poor human nature, always and everywhere alike!”

Finally, he mentioned a most infamous intrigue, which was set on foot by persons on whom he had lavished favours. These persons endeavoured to prevail on the Empress Josephine to sign a most degrading letter, under pretence of securing her a tranquil residence in France, but doubtless with the real purpose of gaining credit to themselves in another quarter. The letter, which was to have been addressed to the King, contained a disavowal of all that she had formerly been, and what she still was, together with a request that the King would provide for her as he pleased, &c. The Empress wept, and resisted the importunity, asked for time, and consulted the Emperor Alexander, who told her that such a letter would utterly disgrace her. He advised her to dismiss the meddling intriguers by whom she was surrounded; assured her that there was no intention of removing her from France, or disturbing her quiet in any way; and promised to be responsible for her himself in case of necessity.

In the evening, the Emperor felt better, and he enjoyed a little sleep. His countenance bore evident marks of the severe pain he had suffered.

THE EMPEROR CONTINUES INDISPOSED.—IMMORALITY
THE WORST FAULT IN A SOVEREIGN.

27th.—The Emperor passed the whole day beside the fire, sometimes reclining on his couch, and sometimes sitting in his arm-chair. He still suffered very much from head-ache and tooth-ache, and the secretion of saliva had not diminished. He again had recourse to warm flannel and napkins, by the use of which he had yesterday experienced a little relief. I warmed them, and applied them in the same manner as before. The Emperor appeared very sensible to the attentions I shewed him, and several times laying his hand on my shoulder, he said, “My dear Las Cases, you relieve me very much!” The pain subsided, and he slept for a short time; then, raising his eyes, he said to me, “Have I been long asleep? Are you not very much fatigued?” He called me his frère hospitalier, the knight hospitaller of St. Helena. But the pain soon returned with violence, and he sent for the Doctor, who found him feverish. He was seized with the chillness which had attacked him on the preceding day, and which obliged him to keep close to the fire.

He continued in the same state through the whole of the evening. About seven o’clock, he proposed going to bed. He would not eat anything; but he ordered his valet to toast some bread, and he himself made a little toast and water, in which he put some sugar and orange-flower-water.

In the course of the evening’s conversation, the following remarks fell from the Emperor. “Immorality,” said he, “is, beyond doubt, the worst of all faults in a Sovereign; because he introduces it as a fashion among his subjects, by whom it is practised for the sake of pleasing him. It strengthens every vice, blights every virtue, and infects all society like a pestilence: in short, it is the scourge of a nation. Public morality, on the contrary, added he, is the natural compliment of the laws: it is a whole code in itself.” He declared that the Revolution, in spite of all its horrors, had nevertheless been the true cause of the regeneration of morals in France, “as the noblest vegetation is the offspring of the filthiest manure.” He did not hesitate to affirm that his government would mark the memorable epoch of the return to morality. “We advanced at full sail,” said he; “but, doubtless, the catastrophes which have ensued will, in a great measure, turn all back; for, amidst so many vicissitudes and disorders, it is difficult to resist the various temptations that arise, the allurements of intrigue and cupidity, and the suggestions of venality. However, the rising impulse of improvement may be impeded and repressed, but not destroyed. Public morality belongs especially to the dominion of reason and information, of which it is the natural result; and reason and information cannot again retrograde. The scandalous turpitude of former ages, the double adulteries, and libertinism of the Regency, and the profligacy of the succeeding reign, cannot again be revived, unless the circumstances under which they existed should again return; and that is impossible. Before such a change can take place, the upper classes of society must again degenerate into a state of absolute idleness, so as to have no other occupation than licentiousness; the spirit of industry, which now animates and elevates the minds of people in the middle ranks, must be destroyed; and finally, the lower classes must be again plunged into that state of subjection and degradation which once reduced them to the level of mere beasts of burden. Now, all this is henceforth impossible: public morals are, therefore, on the rise; and it may be safely predicted that they will gradually improve all over the world.”

About nine o’clock, after the Emperor had retired to bed, he desired that all his suite might come to his apartment. The Grand Marshal and his lady were among the number. The Emperor conversed with us for half an hour; the curtains being drawn round his bed.

THE EMPEROR STILL UNWELL.—WANT OF MEDICINES.—SERVAN’S
GUERRES D’ITALIE.—MADAME DE MONTESSON.

28th.—When I rose in the morning, I felt ill, and wished to bathe my feet; but no water could be procured for that purpose. I mention this circumstance to afford an idea, if possible, of our real situation at Longwood. Water has always been very scarce here; but there is less now than ever, and we consider ourselves singularly fortunate when we are able to procure a bath for the Emperor. We are no better provided with other things necessary in medical treatment. Yesterday, the Doctor was mentioning, in the Emperor’s presence, drugs, instruments, and remedies of various kinds; but, as he enumerated each article, he added: “Unfortunately, there is none to be procured on the Island.”—“Then,” said the Emperor, “when they sent us hither, they took it for granted that we should be always well?” Indeed we are in want of the veriest trifles and necessaries. As a substitute for a warming-pan, the Emperor has been obliged to have holes bored in one of the large silver dishes, used for keeping the meat warm at table, which is now filled with coals, and used for the purpose of warming his bed.—For some time past, he has very much felt the want of spirits of wine, by means of which, he might have warmed his drink.

The Emperor has continued unwell the whole of the day: his face is still very much swelled, but the pain has somewhat abated. On entering his chamber, I found him sitting by the fire, reading the Guerres d’Italie, by Servan. The work suggested to him the idea of some additions to our valuable chapters on Italy. He ordered the map to be brought to him. I was very much surprised to find that the author, in descending to our own times, and narrating the campaigns of the Emperor himself, was exceedingly imperfect in his descriptions, and seemed to be unacquainted with the country about which he wrote. “This,” said the Emperor, “is because he passed on, without observing; and, perhaps he would not have been capable of understanding, even had he observed. But the true spirit of great enterprises and great results consists in the art of divining even without seeing.”

The Emperor found himself obliged to retire to bed as early as he did yesterday. He felt chilly, and seemed to be threatened with another attack of fever; he also felt symptoms of cramp. A little soup was the only nourishment he had taken since yesterday. He complained that his bed was badly made, and that every thing seemed to be wrong; the bed-clothes were not arranged as he wished, and he ordered them to be spread out differently. He remarked that all who surrounded him had calculated on his preserving his health, and that they would certainly be very inexperienced and awkward, should he happen to be attacked with a serious fit of illness.

He ordered some tea to be made of orange-tree leaves, for which he had to wait a considerable time. During the delay, he evinced a degree of patience of which I should certainly have been incapable.

He conversed, when in bed, on the early years of his life which he spent at Brienne, the Duke of Orleans, and Madame de Montesson, whom he recollected having seen. He spoke also of the families of Nogent and Brienne, who were connected with the circumstances of his youth.

“When I was raised to the head of the government,” said Napoleon, “Madame de Montesson applied to me for permission to take the title of Duchess of Orleans, which appeared to me an extremely ridiculous request.” The Emperor had supposed that she was only the mistress of the Prince; but I assured him that she had really been married to the Duke, with the consent of Louis XVI., and that, after the death of her husband, she always signed herself the Duchess Dowager of Orleans. The Emperor said he had been ignorant of that circumstance. “But, at all events,” said he, “what had the First Consul to do with the business? This was always my answer to the persons interested in the case, who were, however, not much satisfied with me. But was it to be expected that I should adopt, immediately, all the irregularities and absurdities of the old school?”

THE EMPEROR STILL INDISPOSED.—CHARACTERISTIC
CIRCUMSTANCES.

29th.—My son was ill, and I was myself by no means well, being still troubled with restlessness during the night. The Doctor came to see us. He informed me that the Emperor was better; but that he was wrong in refusing to take medicine.

The Emperor did not send for me until five o’clock. He still complained of a violent pain in his head. He had his feet in water, and he experienced a little relief from this kind of half bath. He lay down on the sofa, and took up the Memoirs of Noailles, from which he read aloud several passages, concerning the Duke de Vendome, the siege of Lille, and some others relative to the Duke of Berwick; all of which he accompanied by remarks in his own style,—novel, original, and striking. I very much regret that I am unable to record them here; but, as I had not made a fair copy of these latter sheets of my journal, when the manuscript was seized, I have now only the assistance of memoranda, frequently referring to circumstances which time has obliterated from my recollection.

The Emperor, observing on his drawers some confectionary, or sweetmeats, which had been accidentally left there, he desired me to bring them to him; and, seeing that I hesitated, and felt embarrassed, as to how I should present them, he said, “Take them in your hand; there is no need of ceremony or form between us now; we must henceforth be messmates.” Though this is a trifling circumstance, yet, to some, it will develope, more forcibly than volumes of description, the real turn of mind, character, and disposition, of the extraordinary individual to whom it relates: for men of judgment and observation will perceive, and draw conclusions, when others would not even form an idea. This consideration has induced me to insert in these volumes many things which I had originally intended to reject, through the fear that they might be thought insignificant, or, at all events, useless.

I have already mentioned that, in his moments of good-humoured familiarity, the Emperor was accustomed to salute me with all sorts of titles, such as “Good morning, Monseigneur. How is your Excellency? What says your Lordship to-day?” &c. One evening, when I was going to the drawing-room, the usher was about to open the door for me, when, at the same moment, the door of the Emperor’s apartment also opened: he was going thither too. I stepped aside to let him pass; and he, no doubt in a fit of abstraction, stopped me, and seizing me by the ear, said, playfully: “Well; where is your Majesty going?” But the words had no sooner been uttered, than he immediately let go my ear, and, assuming a grave expression of countenance, he began to talk to me on some serious topic. I had, it is true, learned to close my ears when it was necessary; but the Emperor was evidently sorry for having suffered the expression, your Majesty, to escape him. He seemed to think that though other titles might be used in jest, yet the case was very different with the one he had just employed[employed]; both on account of its own peculiar nature, and the circumstances in which we were placed. Be this as it may, the reader may form what conjecture he pleases; I merely relate the fact.

After dinner, the Emperor received all his suite in his chamber. He was in bed; and he began to talk of the little faith he placed in the virtue of medicine. He observed that he used to support his opinions on this subject with such strong arguments that Corvisart and other celebrated physicians could but feebly oppose him, and that merely for the sake of maintaining the honour of the profession.

THE EMPEROR’S FIFTH DAY OF CONFINEMENT.—ANECDOTE
OF AN UNPAID BILL.—ON UNPOPULARITY.

30th.—The Emperor was no better to-day; and his periodical attack of fever returned at the usual hour. He was troubled with pimples on his lips and in his mouth, together with a sore throat, so that he felt pain in speaking, and even in swallowing. When the Doctor came in the evening, he brought with him a gargle for the Emperor’s throat: but it was with difficulty we prevailed on him to use it. There is no oil to be procured, fit for the Emperor’s use—it is execrable; and he is very fastidious.

In the course of conversation to-day, the Emperor, in alluding to the extravagance and debts of Josephine, mentioned that he himself, though the most regular man in the world, with respect to money-matters, once got into an unpleasant predicament at Saint-Cloud. “I was riding in my calash,” said he, “along with the Empress, when, amidst an immense crowd of people, I was accosted, in the Eastern style, as a Sultan might be addressed on his way to the mosque, by one of my tradesmen, who demanded a considerable sum of money, the payment of which had been, for a long time, withheld from him. The man’s demand was just,” remarked Napoleon, “and yet I was not to blame. I had paid the money at the proper time: the intermediate agent was solely in fault.”

At another time, when alluding to the unpopularity of which, he said, he had latterly been the object, I expressed my surprise that he had not endeavoured to counteract the libels that were published against him, and to recover popular favour. To this he replied, with an air of inspiration: “I had higher objects in view than to concern myself about flattering and courting a low multitude; a few insignificant coteries and sects. I should have returned victorious from Moscow, and then not only these people, but all France, and all the world, would have admired and blessed me. I might then have withdrawn myself mysteriously from the world, and popular credulity would have revived the fable of Romulus; it would have been said that I had been carried up to heaven, to take my place among the gods.”

About seven o’clock, the Emperor, finding himself very weak, retired to bed. When our dinner was ended, he received us all in his chamber, as he did yesterday; his bed-curtains being drawn. After a little desultory conversation, he took a fancy to have Robinson Crusoe read to him. Each of the gentlemen read a portion by turns, I alone being exempt, on account of my bad eyes. After an hour or two spent in this way, the Emperor took leave of us all, except the youngest of the party (General Gourgaud), whom he detained for the purpose of reading and conversing with him a little longer.

THE EMPEROR VIOLATES THE DOCTOR’S ORDERS.—THE
NAME OF THE GREAT NATION FIRST APPLIED TO
FRANCE BY NAPOLEON.

31st.—Fair weather had now returned: the day was delightful. The Emperor had kept his chamber for six days: and, tired of the monotony of the scene, he determined to disobey the Doctor’s orders. He went out; but he felt himself so extremely weak that he was scarcely able to walk. He ordered the calash, and we took a drive. He was silent and low-spirited, and suffered considerable pain, particularly from the eruption on his lips.

Shortly after his return, he desired me to attend him in his chamber. He felt very weak and drowsy. I prevailed on him to eat a little; and he also took a glass of wine, which, he said, somewhat revived him, and he found himself better. He then entered into conversation.

“As soon as I set foot in Italy,” said he, “I wrought a change in the manners, sentiments, and language, of our Revolution. I did not shoot the emigrants; I protected the priests, and abolished those institutions and festivals which were calculated to disgrace us. In so doing, I was not guided by caprice, but by reason and equity—those two bases of superior policy. For example,” continued he, addressing himself to an individual present, “if the anniversary of the King’s death had always been celebrated, you would never have had an opportunity for rallying.”

The Emperor remarked that he himself was the first who applied to France the name of the Great Nation. “And certainly,” said he, “she justified the distinction in the eyes of the prostrate world.” Then, after a short pause, he added: “And she will yet deserve and retain that proud title, if her national character should again rise to a level with her physical advantages and her moral resources.”

On another occasion, speaking of a person to whom he was much attached, he said, “His character resembles that of the cow; gentle and placid in all things, except where his children are concerned. If any one meddles with them, his horns are immediately thrust forward, and he may be roused to a pitch of fury.”

Speaking of another, who had passed his thirtieth year, and whom he happened to say was too young, he observed, “And yet, at that age, I had made all my conquests, and I ruled the world. I had laid the revolutionary storm, amalgamated hostile parties, rallied a nation, established a government and an empire; in short, I wanted only the title of Emperor. I have, it must be confessed,” added he, “been the spoiled child of fortune. From my first entrance into life, I was accustomed to exercise command; and circumstances and the force of my own character were such that, as soon as I became possessed of power, I acknowledged no master, and obeyed no laws, except those of my own creating.”

THE EMPEROR’S HEALTH DECLINES VISIBLY.—THE DOCTOR
EXPRESSES ALARM.—FRENCH PRISONERS IN ENGLAND, &C.

Friday, November 1st.—To-day, the weather being very fine, the Emperor went out about two o’clock. After walking a little in the garden, he felt fatigued, and called at Madame Bertrand’s to rest himself. He sat there, upwards of an hour, in an arm-chair, without saying a word, and apparently suffering much from pain and weakness. He then returned languidly to his chamber, where he threw himself on his sofa, and fell into a slumber, as he did on the preceding day. I was very much distressed to observe the state of extreme debility to which he was reduced. He endeavoured to overcome his drowsiness; but he could neither converse nor read. I withdrew, in order that he might take a little rest.

An English frigate arrived from the Cape, on her way to Europe. This circumstance has afforded us an opportunity of writing to our friends. I have, however, denied myself the happiness of doing so; for the repeated complaints of the Governor, together with the consequences with which I was threatened, amount to an absolute prohibition of all correspondence with Europe. Perhaps a more favourable moment may arrive. At all events, I must be patient.

Doctor O’Meara called to see my son, who continued in a very precarious state. He was again bled yesterday, and fainted three or four times in the course of the day.

The Doctor took the opportunity of speaking to me on the subject of the Emperor’s health, and he assured me that he was by no means free from alarm as to the consequences of his confinement. He said that he was continually urging the necessity of exercise; and he begged that I would endeavour to prevail on the Emperor to go out more frequently. It was obvious that an alarming change had taken place in him. The Doctor did not hesitate to affirm that such complete confinement, after a life of activity, would be attended with the worst consequences; since any serious disorder, produced by the nature of the climate, or any accident to which he might be exposed, would infallibly prove fatal to him. These words, and the tone of anxiety in which they were uttered, deeply affected me. From that moment, I observed the sincere interest which the Doctor felt for Napoleon, and of which he has since afforded so many proofs.

The Emperor sent for me about six o’clock. He was taking a bath; and he appeared to be worse than when I had last seen him: this he attributed to going out yesterday. He, however, experienced some benefit from the bath; and he took up Lord Macartney’s Embassy to China, which he continued reading for some time, making various observations as he proceeded.

When he laid aside the book, he began to converse; and the situation of the French prisoners in England was one of the subjects that happened to come under discussion. I will here put together some remarks on this subject that fell from the Emperor on the present and other occasions.

The sudden rupture of the treaty of Amiens, on such false pretences, and with so much bad faith on the part of the English Ministry, greatly irritated the First Consul, who conceived that he had been trifled with. The seizure of several French merchant ships, even before war had been declared, roused his indignation to the utmost. “To my urgent remonstrances,” said the Emperor, “they coolly replied that it was a practice they had always observed; and here they spoke truth. But the time was gone by when France could tamely submit to such injustice and humiliation. I had become the defender of her rights and glory, and I was resolved to let our enemies know with whom they had to deal. Unfortunately, owing to the reciprocal situation of the two countries, I could only avenge one act of violence by another still greater. It was a painful thing to be compelled to make reprisals on innocent men; but I had no alternative.

“On reading the ironical and insolent reply that was returned to my complaints, I, that very night, issued an order for arresting, in every part of France, and in every territory occupied by the French, all Englishmen, of every rank whatever, and detaining them as prisoners, by way of reprisal for the unjust seizure of our ships. Most of these English were men of rank and fortune, who were travelling for their pleasure; but the more extraordinary the measure, the greater the injustice, the better it suited my purpose. A general outcry was raised. The English appealed to me; but I referred them to their own government, on whose conduct alone their fate depended. Several of these individuals proposed raising a subscription to pay for the ships that had been seized, in the hope of thereby obtaining permission to return home. I, however, informed them that I did not want money; but merely to obtain justice and redress for an injury. Could it have been believed that the English Government, as crafty and tenacious with respect to its maritime rights as the Court of Rome is in its religious pretensions, suffered a numerous and distinguished class of Englishmen to be unjustly detained for ten years, rather than authentically renounce for the future an odious system of maritime plunder.

“When I was first raised to the head of the consular government, I had had a misunderstanding with the English Cabinet, on the subject of prisoners of war; but I now carried my point. The Directory had been weak enough to agree to an arrangement extremely injurious to France, and entirely to the advantage of England.

“The English maintained their prisoners in France, and we had to maintain ours in England. We had but few English prisoners; and the French prisoners in England were exceedingly numerous: provisions were to be had almost for nothing in France; and they were exorbitantly dear in England. Thus the English had very trifling expenses to defray; while we, on the other hand, had to send enormous sums into a foreign country; and that at a time when we could but ill afford it. This arrangement, moreover, required an exchange of agents between the respective countries; and the English Commissioner proved to be neither more nor less than a spy on the French Government; he was the go-between and contriver of the plots that were hatched in the interior of France by the emigrants abroad. No sooner was I made acquainted with this state of things, than I erased the abuse by a stroke of the pen. The English Government was informed that, thenceforward, each country must maintain the prisoners it should make, unless an exchange were agreed upon. A terrible outcry was raised, and a threat was held out that the French prisoners should be suffered to die of starvation. I doubted not that the English Ministers were sufficiently obstinate and inhuman to wish to put this threat into execution; but I knew that any cruelty exercised towards the prisoners would be repugnant to the feelings of the nation. The English Government yielded the point. The situation of our unfortunate prisoners was, indeed, neither better nor worse than it had previously been; but, in other respects, we gained great advantages, and got rid of an arrangement which placed us under a sort of yoke and tribute.

“During the whole of the war, I incessantly made proposals for an exchange of prisoners: but to this, the English Government, under some pretence or other, constantly refused to accede, on the supposition that it would be advantageous to me. I have nothing to say against this. In war, policy must take place of feeling; but why exercise unnecessary cruelty? And this is what the English Ministers unquestionably did, when they found the number of prisoners increasing. Then commenced, for our unfortunate countrymen, the odious system of confinement in hulks; a species of torture, which the ancients would have added to the horrors of the infernal regions, had their imaginations been capable of conceiving it. I readily admit that there might be exaggeration on the part of the accusers; but was the truth spoken by those who defended themselves? We know what kind of thing a report to Parliament is. We can form a correct idea of it, when we read the calumnies and falsehoods that are uttered in Parliament, with such cool effrontery, by the base men who have blushed not to become our executioners. Confinement on board hulks is a thing that needs no explanation: the fact speaks for itself. When it is considered that men, unaccustomed to live on shipboard, were crowded together in little unwholesome cabins, too small to afford them room to move; that, by way of indulgence, they were permitted, twice during the twenty-four hours, to breathe pestilential exhalations at ebb tide; and that this misery was prolonged for the space of ten or twelve years;—the blood curdles at such an odious picture of inhumanity! On this point, I blame myself for not having made reprisals. It would have been well had I thrown into similar confinement, not the poor sailors and soldiers, whose complaints would never have been attended to, but all the English nobility and persons of fortune who were then in France. I should have permitted them to maintain free correspondence with their friends and families, and their complaints would soon have assailed the ears of the English Ministers, and checked their odious measures. Certain parties in Paris, who were ever the best allies of the enemy, would, of course, have called me a tiger and a cannibal; but no matter, I should have discharged my duty to the French people, who had made me their protector and defender. In this instance, my decision of character failed me.”

The Emperor asked me whether the French prisoners had been confined in hulks at the time when I was in England. I could not positively inform him; but I replied that I did not think they were, because I knew there were prisons for them in various parts of the country, where many of the English visited them, and purchased the productions of their industry. I added that they were, in all probability, but ill provided for, and exposed to many hardships; for a story used to be told of a government agent having visited one of the prisons on horseback, and no sooner had he alighted from his horse, and turned his back, than the poor animal was seized, cut to pieces, and devoured by the prisoners. I did not, of course, vouch for the fact; but the story was related by the English themselves, and the ignorant and prejudiced class did not regard it as a proof of the extreme misery to which the prisoners must have been reduced, but merely as an example of their terrible voracity. The Emperor laughed, and said he considered the anecdote to be a mere fabrication; observing that, if the fact were to be relied on, it was calculated to make human nature shudder; for, that nothing but hunger, urged to madness, could drive men to such a dreadful extremity. I was the more inclined to believe that the plan of confinement on board the hulks had not been introduced when I was in England, because I recollected that a great deal had been said about establishing the French prisoners in some small islands between England and Ireland. It was proposed to convey them thither, and to leave them to themselves, in a state of complete seclusion; and a few light vessels were to be kept constantly cruising about to guard them. To this plan it was, however, objected that, in case of a descent on the part of the enemy, his grand object would be to land on these islands, distribute arms among the prisoners, and thus recruit an army immediately. Perhaps, added I, this idea might have led to the use of hulks; for the prisoners were rapidly increasing in numbers, and it was not thought safe to keep them on shore among the people, as the latter betrayed a strong disposition to fraternize with the French. “Well,” said Napoleon, “I can very readily conceive that there might be good grounds for rejecting the plan you have just mentioned. Safety and self-preservation before all things. But the confinement in the hulks is a stain on the English character for humanity, an irritating sting, that will never be removed from the hearts of the French prisoners.”

“On the subject of prisoners of war,” continued Napoleon, “the English Ministers invariably acted with their habitual bad faith, and with the Machiavelism that distinguishes the school of the present day. Being absolutely determined to avoid an exchange, which they did not wish to incur the blame of having refused, they invented and multiplied pretences beyond calculation. In the first place, that I should presume to regard as prisoners, persons merely detained, was affirmed to be an atrocious violation of the laws of civilized nations, and a principle which the English Government would never avow, on any consideration whatever. It happened that some of the individuals detained, who were at large on parole, escaped, and were received triumphantly in England. On the other hand, some Frenchmen effected their escape to France. I expressed my disapprobation of their conduct, and proposed that the individuals of either country, who had thus broken their parole, should be mutually sent back again. But I received for answer that persons detained were not to be accounted prisoners; that they had merely availed themselves of the lawful privilege of escaping oppression; that they had done right; and had been received accordingly. After this, I thought myself justified in inducing the French to escape; and the English Ministers filled their journals with the most insolent abuse, declaring me to be a man who scrupled not to violate moral principle, faith, and law.

“When[“When], at length, they determined to treat for an exchange of prisoners, or, perhaps, I ought rather to say, when they took it into their heads to trifle with me on this point, they sent a Commissioner to France. All the great difficulties were waved; and, with a fine parade of sentiment, conditions were proposed for the sake of humanity, &c. They consented to include persons detained in the list of prisoners, and to admit, under that head, the Hanoverian troops, who were my prisoners, but who were at large on parole. This latter point had been a standing obstacle; because, it was insinuated the Hanoverians were not English. Thus far matters had proceeded smoothly, and there was every probability of their being brought to a conclusion. But I knew whom I had to deal with: and I guessed the intentions that were really entertained. There were infinitely more French prisoners in England than English prisoners in France; and I was well aware that, the English being once safely landed at home, some pretence would be found for breaking off the exchange, and the rest of my poor Frenchmen might have remained on board the hulks to all eternity. I declared that I would accede to no partial exchange; that I would be satisfied only with a full and complete one; and, to facilitate matters, I made the following proposal. I admitted that there were fewer English prisoners in France than French prisoners in England; but, I observed, that there were among my prisoners, Spaniards, Portuguese, and other allies of the English, who had been taken under their banners and fighting in the same cause. With this addition, I could on my part produce a far more considerable number of prisoners than there were in England. I therefore offered to surrender up all, in return for all. This proposition, at first, occasioned some embarrassment; it was discussed and rejected. However, as soon as they had devised a scheme, by which they thought they could secure the object they had in view, they acceded to my proposition. But I kept a watchful eye on them: I knew that, if we began by merely exchanging Frenchmen for Englishmen, as soon as the latter should be secured, pretences would be found for breaking off the business, and the old evasions would be resumed; for the English prisoners in France did not amount to one-third of the French in England. To obviate any misunderstanding on either side, I therefore proposed that we should exchange by convoys of only three thousand at a time; that three thousand Frenchmen should be returned to me, and that I would send back one thousand English, and two thousand Hanoverians, Spaniards, Portuguese, and others. Thus, if any misunderstanding arose and put a stop to the exchange, we should still stand in the same relative proportions as before, and without having practised any deception upon each other: but if, on the contrary, the affair should proceed uninterruptedly to a conclusion, I promised to surrender up, gratuitously, all the prisoners that might ultimately remain in my hands. My conjectures respecting the real designs of the English Government proved to be correct: these conditions, which were really so reasonable, and the principle of which had already been adopted, were rejected, and the whole business was broken off. Whether the English Ministers really sympathized in the situation of their countrymen, or whether they were convinced of my firm determination not to be duped, I know not; but it would appear that they were at length inclined to come to a conclusion, when I subsequently introduced the subject by an indirect channel. However, our disasters in Russia at once revived their hopes, and defeated my intentions.”

The Emperor next remarked upon the treatment of prisoners of war in France, which, he said, was as generous and liberal as it possibly could be; and he thought that, on this subject, no nation could justly reproach us. “We have,” said he, “in our favour the testimony and the sentiments of the prisoners themselves; for, with the exception of those who were ardently attached to their local laws, or, in other words, to notions of liberty (and these were exclusively the English and Spaniards), all the rest, namely the Austrians, Prussians, and Russians, were willing to remain with us: they left us with regret, and returned to us with pleasure. This disposition on the part of the Spaniards and English has oftener than once influenced the obstinacy of their efforts or their resistance.”

The Emperor also made the following observation:—“It was my intention to have introduced into Europe a change with respect to the treatment of prisoners. I intended to enrol them in regiments, and to make them labour, under military discipline, at public works and buildings. They should have received whatever money they earned, and would thus have been secured against the misery of absolute idleness and the disorders arising out of it. They should have been well fed and clothed, and have wanted for nothing, without being a burden to the state. All parties would have been benefited by this plan. But my idea did not meet the approval of the Council of State, which, in this instance, was swayed by the mistaken philanthropy that leads to so many errors in the world. It was said that it would be unjust and cruel to compel men to labour. It was feared lest our enemies should make reprisals; and it was affirmed that a prisoner was sufficiently unfortunate in the loss of his liberty, without being placed under restraint as to the employment of his time. But here was the abuse of which I complained, and which I wished to correct. A prisoner, said I, must and should expect to be placed under lawful constraint; and that which I would impose on him is for his own advantage, as well as that of others. I do not require that he should be subject to greater misery or fatigue, but to less danger, than he is exposed to in his present condition. You are afraid lest the enemy should make reprisals, and treat French prisoners in the same manner. Heaven grant it should be so! I wish for nothing better! I should then behold my sailors and soldiers occupied in wholesome labour, in the fields or the public roads, instead of seeing them buried alive on board those odious hulks. They would return home healthy, industrious and inured to labour; and in every country they would leave behind them some compensation for the fatal ravages of war. By way of concession, the Council of State agreed to the organization of a few corps of prisoners as voluntary labourers, or something of the sort; but this was by no means the fulfilment of the scheme I had in view.”

NAPOLEON’S DESIGNS WITH REGARD TO ANTWERP.—HIS REFUSAL TO SURRENDER THAT CITY ONE OF THE CAUSES OF HIS FALL.—HIS GENEROUS SENTIMENTS IN REJECTING THE TREATY OF CHATILLON.—MARITIME WORKS.—OFFICIAL REPORT OF THE STATE OF THE EMPIRE IN 1813.—TOTAL AMOUNT OF EXPENDITURE IN PUBLIC WORKS, DURING THE REIGN OF NAPOLEON.

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.

1. Fort Boyard, constructed for the purpose of enlarging and defending the anchorage of the Isle of Aix, whence, by dint of perseverance and intrepidity, a passage had been discovered out of sight of the enemy, between Oleron and the main-land, by which even ships of the line could reach the anchoring grounds of the Gironde and its outlets.

2. The extensive and superb works of Cherbourg. The dike, which was commenced under Louis XVI., and which had suffered considerable injury during the Revolution, was repaired; the central part being elevated nine feet above the highest level of the sea, and along an extent of 100 toises, for the purpose of mounting a battery of twenty guns of the largest calibre. This work was executed in less than two years, from 1802 to 1804, and with such success that, though it has been neglected since 1813, it has suffered no decay, and still retains all its original strength.

A large elliptical tower of granite was built in the centre, and within the dike, which it supports, and by which, it is, in its turn, covered. The massive foundations of this tower, which, being constructed in the open sea, of course presented enormous difficulties, were completed at the end of 1812, and raised to the height of six feet above the level of the highest tides. The solidity which it has preserved since that period, though in a state of neglect, and exposed to the violent action of the waves, is a manifest proof of the strength of the defensive works that were projected on this artificial rock, when the time should arrive for the full completion of the plan. This plan consisted in raising, at the height of one story, a barrack, capable of containing the garrison, a powder magazine, reservoir, &c.; this was to be surmounted by an arched platform, bomb-proof, and capable of receiving a casemated battery of nineteen thirty-six pounders, and above this was to be a second platform, capable of receiving mounted guns, if necessary; the whole crowning the central battery, already existing on the dike itself. Thus the enemy’s attack would have been resisted by four ranges of batteries one above another.

In less than eight years, a military port was excavated in the solid rock. It was capable of containing forty-five ships of the line, a proportionate number of frigates, three slips for building, &c. This asylum, so necessary for ships of the line, owing to the natural situation of the roads of Cherbourg, which are too much exposed to the violence of the waves, was dug thirty feet beneath the level of the sea, at the lowest ebb tide, in order to afford, at all times, a secure station for the largest ships. When it was opened in 1813, the moles and dikes were fully completed along its whole extent. At that time, the Empress Maria Louisa and all her Court witnessed the magnificent and sublime spectacle of the sudden irruption of the sea, which was admitted, simply by the spontaneous rupture of the immense dam that had hitherto repelled its efforts. The largest vessels immediately entered the enclosure, which has since afforded a convenient station for shipping, together with the requisite accommodations for building, repairing, and fitting out: in short, it possesses every advantage that might be expected in so important a creation of art, and is justly considered to be one of the noblest monuments of Napoleon’s reign. According to the Emperor’s plan, this stupendous work was intended only as a first or outward port; he had determined on constructing, in a lateral direction, at a little distance within it, a second or inner port, which was to be commenced immediately, and which would have been speedily completed, owing to the precautions that were previously adopted. It was to be large enough to receive twenty-five ships of the line, and behind these two ports, and extending along their whole length, in a semicircular form, there were to be built thirty covered docks, where the same number of ships of the line might be kept in constant readiness to put to sea. Such were the immense works executed or planned at Cherbourg alone.

3. The numerous works occasioned by the flotilla for the invasion of England.—It was necessary to provide anchorages, to render the preparations simultaneous, and to execute every offensive and defensive operation. All this required, at various points, the construction of forts of stone and wood, quays, basins, jetties, dams, sluices, &c.

Boulogne was chosen as the central point of assemblage; and Vimereux, Ambleteuse[Ambleteuse], and Etaples, were the secondary points. Boulogne itself was rendered capable of receiving 2,000 ships of different kinds. Besides its natural port, an artificial basin was formed, by means of a dam, closed in the middle by a sluice, twenty-four feet wide. This basin was capable of containing 8 or 900 ships afloat, and in a constant state of readiness; and the sluice, from the preceding retention, had the advantage of producing currents of water, which increased the depth of the real port, and cleared its entrance of sand-banks, by which it was liable to be obstructed. Vimereux, Etaples, and Ambleteuse, were simultaneously rendered capable of receiving a proportionate number of ships: all these undertakings were completed in the space of two years.

4. Important local repairs and improvements in all the ports of the coast.—Havre was rendered accessible to frigates, by destroying, by means of a strong sluice, the banks of gravel that obstructed its entrance. Improvements were made at St. Valery, Dieppe, Calais, Gravelines, and Dunkirk; the port of the latter was cleared, and the marsh that covered the town was drained. A second flotilla was to be assembled at Ostend, to which a free entrance had been effected by clearing its channel.

5. The works of Flushing.—This town having momentarily fallen into the hands of the English, they destroyed all its military establishments when they evacuated it. The Emperor ordered the re-construction of the works on a much more extensive scale than before. Fully appreciating the important geographical situation of the place, he ordered the basin to be re-dug and enlarged, as well as its entrance. The channel was also to be deepened, so that the basin might be rendered capable of admitting even eighty-gun ships, and affording a winter station for a squadron of twenty ships, always ready to put to sea in one or two tides. This advantage was to be procured by means of a very ingenious plan, suggested by the naval Commandant of the place, and which consisted simply in confining the water at high tide, in the ditches of the town. The basin was a most important acquisition, as it afforded the means of making naval preparations, free from all the inconveniences of the Scheldt. Our ships would have been enabled to sail directly to the coast of England; and the English would thus have been compelled to keep cruisers constantly on the watch; whereas, hitherto, as soon as they knew that our ships were disarmed in Flushing, or had returned to Antwerp, on the approach of winter, they quietly went into port, having nothing to apprehend until the return of spring. But it was necessary to render the fortifications of Flushing equal to the protection of a whole squadron: consequently, defensive works were multiplied on various points; magazines and other establishments were re-constructed; and orders were issued for rendering them bomb-proof, and surmounting them with batteries. Flushing would have been thickly planted with cannon on all points, and would, in short, have been rendered impregnable.

6. Works commenced at Terneuse.—The importance of the western mouth of the Scheldt, for enabling our fleet to sail in and out, and the inconveniences attending the return of our ships to Antwerp, every year during the winter season, suggested to the Emperor the idea of forming a still greater arsenal than Flushing near the mouth of the river. Terneuse, on the left bank of the Scheldt, three leagues from the mouth of the river, was the point fixed on, and the works were immediately commenced. They were, however, suspended, on account of the great length of time, as well as the enormous expense, that would have been requisite for their completion.

7. The immense works at Antwerp.—This town, which is nearly twenty leagues distant from the sea, from which it is separated by a winding and very difficult channel, seemed to be destitute of every desirable advantage for the formation of a maritime arsenal; and it had hitherto presented only petty commercial establishments. A fleet built at Antwerp would, with difficulty, have been able to descend the river, and would have been but ill defended against the inclemencies of the weather, or the attempts of the enemy. It would have been useless during one third of the year; for the approach of winter forced the ships to come higher up, to avoid the current and ice of the river; there being no wet docks. But these numerous difficulties seemed as nothing in the eyes of Napoleon. In his impatience to make the English feel the dangers of the Scheldt, which they had themselves so frequently acknowledged to be formidable, he speedily concerted his plans, and, in less than eight years, Antwerp assumed the aspect of an important maritime arsenal, and a considerable fleet was already riding in the Scheldt. Every thing was done thoroughly and completely. Magazines, quays, dock-yards, &c. were newly constructed. A provisional asylum was found for the shipping against the ice of the river, at Rupel, while two great wet docks were dug in the town of Antwerp, capable of receiving vessels of all sizes with all their guns on board. Twenty slips for building were raised all in a line, as if by enchantment, and twenty vessels, lying in these slips at once, presented to the traveller, arriving by the Tête de Flandres, the imposing and singular spectacle of twenty vessels of the line ranged as a squadron. Most of these works, however, Napoleon regarded merely as a temporary provision borrowed from commerce. He intended to establish a complete and much larger arsenal facing Antwerp, on the bank of the river, opposite to the Tête de Flandres. He at first conceived the bold design of throwing a bridge across the Scheldt; but he at length determined in favour of flying-bridges, of a very ingenious construction. The Emperor, as I have already observed, had formed the grandest ideas respecting the improvements at Antwerp, and the details of his plan extended as far as the sea. He used to say that he intended to make Antwerp a province, a little kingdom, in itself. To this object he devoted himself with that degree of interest which he might be expected to evince in the execution of one of his most favourite projects. He made several journeys to Antwerp, for the purpose of personally inspecting the works in their most trivial details.

On one of these occasions, he happened to fall in with a Captain or Lieutenant-Colonel of Engineers, who was modestly assisting in the fortifications of the place, and with whom he entered into the discussion of certain points connected with the business in which he was engaged. Shortly afterwards, the officer unexpectedly received a letter, informing him that he was appointed Aide-de-camp to the Emperor, and directing him to repair to the Tuileries to enter upon his duties. The poor officer was filled with astonishment: he thought that he was dreaming, or, that the letter had been misdirected. He was so extremely diffident, and possessed so little knowledge of the world, that this announcement of his promotion threw him into great perplexity. He recollected having once seen me at Antwerp, and he begged I would render him my assistance. Accordingly, on his arrival in Paris, he came and assured me of his total ignorance of Court manners, and the embarrassment he felt in presenting himself to the Emperor. However, I soon succeeded in encouraging him; and, before he reached the gate of the palace, he had mustered a tolerable degree of confidence. This officer was General Bernard, whose great talents were brought into notice by this circumstance, and who, at the time of our disasters, proceeded to America, where he was placed at the head of the military works of the United States.

Napoleon loved to take people thus by surprise. Whenever he discovered talent, he never failed to raise it to its proper sphere, without suffering himself to be swayed by any secondary considerations. This was one of his striking characteristics.

8. The works in Holland.—No sooner had Holland fallen into the hands of Napoleon, than his creative ardour was immediately directed to all the different branches of her political economy. He repaired and enlarged the arsenals of the Meuse, Rotterdam, and Helvoetsluys. Hitherto ships of the line could not get up to Amsterdam, and could not get out from it without vast expense and labour; it being necessary to drag them on camels, unladen and without guns, to the opening of the Zuyderzee. This operation did not suit the rapidity necessary in the great enterprises of the period; and the Emperor determined to remove the northern arsenal to a situation in which it would be exempt from these disadvantages. He accordingly gave orders for the establishment or improvement of the Nievendip, where, in a short time, twenty-five ships of the line were provided with a safe winter station, and laid up beside magnificent quays. This important point was defended by the military establishments of the Helder, which formed the key of Holland. Napoleon’s plan was to make the Nievendip the Antwerp of the Zuyderzee.

9. Works of the Weser, the Ems, and the Elbe.—When Napoleon joined Bremen, Hamburg, and Lubeck, to the Empire, his plans and works extended with his dominion. He took measures for rendering the Elbe accessible to ships of the line, and projected a maritime arsenal at Delfzyl at the mouth of the Ems. But the object which particularly[particularly] engrossed the attention of Napoleon was the cutting of a line of canals which, with the help of the Ems, the Weser, and the Elbe, would have effected a junction between Holland and the Baltic. We should thus have been enabled to communicate safely, and by a simple system of inland navigation, from Bordeaux and the Mediterranean, with the Powers of the North. We should easily have obtained from them all kinds of naval productions for our ports, and we should have been able to send out against them, when we chose, our flotillas from the Channel, Holland, &c.

All these important works were planned, and most of them executed, with amazing rapidity. The creative genius of Napoleon conceived them, and Decrès[Decrès], the minister, indefatigably prosecuted the designs that were suggested. The plans were drawn, and the works executed by Prosny, Sganzin, Cachin, and others. The names attached to such monuments are imperishable!

If, to what has here been described, be added other simultaneous prodigies in every other branch of the public service, and in every other part of the territory; and if it be considered that all were executed amidst perpetual war, and without more, perhaps even with less burdens, than now, after a long peace, weigh on the countries that composed the vast French Empire, it is impossible to repress astonishment and admiration. All these miracles were effected by steadiness of determination, talent armed with power, and finances wisely and economically applied! Certainly, if, in addition to what has already been mentioned, the mass of fortifications, the multitude of public roads, bridges, canals, and edifices of various kinds, be taken into account, it must be acknowledged that no sovereign in the world ever did so much in so short a time, and by imposing so few burdens on his people.

Italy, of which Napoleon was king, also enjoyed her share of his magnificent improvements. He cut fine roads across the Alps and the Apennines; established a maritime arsenal at Genoa; fortified Corfu, so as to make that island the key of Greece; repaired and enlarged the port of Venice; and, while the works were proceeding, it was rendered capable of admitting French ships of the line, by means of the camels used in Holland. To obviate the risk of the ship being attacked by the enemy, during this hazardous conveyance, a plan was proposed by which they were to be enabled to carry their own guns; and it was, I believe, successfully adopted. Napoleon, moreover, intended to establish a naval arsenal at Ragusa, another at Pola, in Istria, and a third at Ancona. He conceived the happy and bold idea of forming a junction between the gulfs of Venice and Genoa, by the help of the Po, and a canal extending from Alessandria to Savona, through the Apennines. This plan would have been attended with the most important results; for, independently of its immense commercial and military advantages, it would have established a direct and safe communication between Venice and Toulon; and the latter port would thus have received all the naval productions of the Adriatic free from any chance of their being attacked by the enemy. Finally, Napoleon cleared Rome of the rubbish with which it was encumbered, restored many ancient vestiges of the Romans, and formed the design of draining the Pontine marshes, &c.

I here subjoin the preamble of the Report on the state of the Empire, presented to the Legislative Body, in the sitting of the 25th of February, 1813, by Count Montalivet, Minister of the Interior. This superb Report, which is founded in all its points on authentic documents, is calculated to afford a just idea of the wonders of Napoleon’s government. I think I may properly close the present subject, by inserting an official statement of the expenses in public works, during the memorable reign of the Emperor.

“Gentlemen,—His Majesty has directed me to make you acquainted with the situations of the Interior of the Empire, during the years 1811 and 1812.

“You will have the satisfaction to observe that, notwithstanding the great armies which a state of war, both maritime and continental, has rendered indispensably necessary, the population has continued to increase; that French industry has made new progress; that the soil was never better cultivated, nor our manufactures more flourishing; and that at no period of our history has wealth been more equally diffused among all classes of society.

“The farmer now enjoys benefits to which he was formerly a stranger. He is enabled to purchase such land as suits him at the highest price; his food and clothing are better, and more abundant than before; and his dwelling is more substantial and convenient.

“Improvements in agriculture, manufactures, and the useful arts, are no longer rejected merely because they are new. Experiments are made in every branch of labour, and the methods that prove to be most advantageous are substituted for old ones. Artificial meadows are multiplied; the system of fallows is abandoned; the succession of crops is better understood, and improved plans of cultivation augment the produce of the soil. Cattle are multiplied, and the different breeds improved. The very labourer finds means to purchase, at a high price, Spanish rams and stallions of the finest breed. They are now sufficiently enlightened to know their real interests, and they do not scruple to make these valuable purchases. Thus the demands of our manufacturers, our agriculturists, and our armies, are every day better supplied.

“This high degree of prosperity is to be attributed to the liberal laws by which this great Empire is ruled, to the suppression of feudalism, tithes, mortmains, and monastic orders; measures which have created or set at liberty numerous private estates, which are now the free patrimony of a multitude of families, formerly mere paupers. It is also to be ascribed to the more equal division of wealth, to the clearness and simplification of the laws relative to landed property and mortgages, and to the promptitude observed in the decision of law-suits, which are now daily decreasing in number. To these same causes, and to the influence of vaccination, must be attributed the increase of the population. It may even be said that the conscription, which annually enrols under our banner the flower of the French youth, has had some share in contributing to this increase, by multiplying the number of marriages; because marriage fixes for ever the fate of the young Frenchman, who has once served in obedience to the law.”

Official statement of the expenditure in public works, from Napoleon’s accession to the imperial throne; presented, together with the vouchers, to the Legislative Body, by the Minister of the Interior.

THE EMPEROR INDISPOSED AND MELANCHOLY.—AMUSING
ANECDOTES.—TWO AIDES-DE-CAMP.—MALLET’S
PLOT.

3rd.—The Emperor still continued to seclude himself like a hermit. Towards evening he sent for me:—he informed me that he was somewhat relieved of his tooth-ache, though he was not better in other respects. He said that he felt extremely weak and depressed in spirits, and that, during the whole day, his mind had been possessed with gloomy ideas. He was taking the bath, and, after a few moments’ silence, he said, as if making an effort to rouse himself, “Come, my Dinarzade, if you are not too drowsy, tell me one of your stories. It is long since you have told me any thing about your friends of the Faubourg St. Germain.”—“Sire,” I replied, “I have related so much on that subject that I fancy I have exhausted my whole stock of tales, whether true or false. Only the scandalous stories now remain untold, and in these your Majesty knows that you yourself were never spared. However, a droll anecdote just now occurs to me. One day, M. de T—— on leaving home to attend to his ministerial duties, informed his wife that he should bring back M. Denon with him to dinner. He wished the distinguished traveller to be treated with the utmost attention; and he told Madame de T—— that the best thing she could do would be to look over his work, so that she might be enabled to pay some handsome compliments to the author; at the same time informing her in what particular part of the library the book was to be found. Madame de T—— set about her task—she found the book exceedingly interesting, and was delighted at the thought of speedily being introduced to the hero. No sooner were the company seated at table, than she informed M. Denon, whom she had taken care to place beside her, that she had been reading his work, and that she had been very much pleased with it. M. Denon bowed, and the lady proceeded to remark on the singular countries he had visited, and the hardships he had endured, at the same time taking pains to assure him how deeply she sympathized in his troubles. M. Denon bowed again; and all went on very smoothly until Madame de T—— still addressing herself to M. Denon, declared how very much delighted she had been when his faithful Friday came to share his solitude. “Have you him still,” she asked. On hearing this, M. Denon started, and, turning to the person who sat on his other hand, he said: Is it possible that she can take me for Robinson Crusoe? The fact is, or I should more properly say, as the story goes, poor Madame de T—— had been reading the Adventures of Robinson Crusoe, instead of Denon’s Travels in Egypt.” The Emperor laughed heartily, and afterwards several times related the anecdote himself.

The conversation turned on the inventive malignity of Parisian society, and the fine story that was got up about the cabinet-maker, who awkwardly discovered to B—— the concealed drawer of a bureau, which happened to contain many secrets connected with his own family: the violent anger of B—— against Ventre de Biche, the sympathy expressed for him by Madame de V——, and the singular consolation she afforded him,—all were described. The Emperor was much amused by these details, most of which were new to him, and he expressed his belief that the story was not entirely an invention. He once more repeated his censure of the saloons of Paris, which, he said, might truly be styled the infernal regions. He observed that they kept up a constant system of slander and calumny, and that, therefore, they might with justice have engaged the constant attention of all the tribunals of correctional police in the capital.

The Emperor had now become animated, and he conversed for a considerable time. He happened to mention an officer whom, he said, he had not treated very well; and I ventured to observe that I believed he had, notwithstanding, been Aide-de-camp to a distinguished General. “What signifies that?” resumed the Emperor. “Don’t you know,” continued he, smiling, “that a general frequently has two aides-de-camp: one for the field and one for the household?”

He said a great deal respecting the national inaptitude of the French to close a revolution, or to adhere to any fixed order of things; and he alluded to the celebrated affair of Mallet, which he jokingly said might be called a miniature or a caricature of his own return from the Isle of Elba. “Mallet’s absurd plot,” said he, “might have been truly regarded as a hoax. A prisoner of state, an obscure individual, effected his own liberation, and, in his turn, imprisoned the Prefect and even the Minister of Police, those keepers of dungeons and detectors of plots, who suffered themselves to be caught in the snare like so many sheep. A Prefect of Paris, the born sponsor of his department, and moreover a very devoted subject, readily lent himself to every plan for assembling a government that had no existence. Ministers, appointed by the conspirators, were engaged in making their round of visits, when those who nominated them were again safely lodged in prison. Finally, the inhabitants of the capital learned in the morning the sort of political debauch that had taken place during the night, without having been in the least disturbed by it. Such an extravagant attempt,” said the Emperor, “could never have produced any result. Even had it succeeded, it must have fallen, of itself, in the space of a few hours; and the victorious conspirators would have thought only of hiding themselves amidst their success. I was, therefore, far less incensed at the attempt of the criminal than at the facility with which those who appeared most attached to me had been prevailed on to become his accomplices. On my arrival, each candidly related to me the details that concerned himself, and which served to criminate all! they frankly avowed that they had been caught, and had, for a moment, placed full faith in my overthrow. They did not deny that, in the delirium of the moment, they had entered into the designs of the conspirators; and they rejoiced with me at their happy escape. Not one of them mentioned the slightest resistance, or the least effort made to defend and perpetuate the existing government. This seemed never to have entered their heads: so accustomed were they to changes and revolutions, that all were perfectly resigned to the establishment of a new order of things. All therefore changed countenance, and manifested the utmost embarrassment; when, in a resolute tone of voice, I said, ‘Well, Gentlemen, it appears you thought my reign at an end; to that I have nothing to say. But where were your oaths to the King of Rome? What became of your principles and doctrines? You make me tremble for the future.’ I found it necessary to make an example, were it only for the sake of putting weak men on their guard for the future; and judgment fell upon poor Frochot, the Prefect of Police, who, I am sure, was attached to me. Yet, at the mere request of one of these mountebank conspirators, instead of making the resistance which his duty required; instead of manifesting a firm determination to perish at his post rather than yield; he very contentedly issued orders for preparing a place for the sitting of the new Government!—Indeed,” said the Emperor, “the readiness with which the French people accommodate themselves to change is calculated to prolong vicissitudes, which no other nation but themselves could endure. Thus, individuals of every party seem to be convinced that all is not yet settled; and Europe shares this opinion, which is founded not less on our natural inconstancy and volatility than on the mass of events that have occurred during the last thirty years.”

THE EMPERORS’S CONTINUED INDISPOSITION AND CONFINEMENT.—HE OBSERVES THAT HE OUGHT TO HAVE DIED AT MOSCOW OR WATERLOO.—EULOGIUM ON HIS FAMILY.

4th.—To-day, the Emperor would not receive any one during the whole of the morning. He sent for me at the hour he had appointed for taking the bath, during which, and for some time afterwards, he conversed on the knowledge of the ancients, the historians by whom it has been transmitted to modern times, the connecting links formed by different writers, &c. His reflections on this subject all led to the conclusion that the world is yet in its infancy, and human nature still more so. We then took a view of the structure of the globe, the irregularities of its surface, the unequal division of sea and land, the amount of its population, the scale by which that population was dispersed, the different political societies into which it was formed, &c. I calculated that Europe contained 170,000,000 inhabitants. The Emperor remarked that he himself had governed 80,000,000; and, I added that, after the alliance with Prussia and Austria, he had been at the head of more than 100,000,000. The Emperor then suddenly changed the conversation. He asked for my Atlas, and while he looked over it, he several times remarked that it was a truly invaluable work for youth.

Afterwards, when speaking of the wonders of his life and the vicissitudes of his fortune, the Emperor remarked that he ought to have died at Moscow; because, at that time, his military glory had experienced no reverse; and his political career was unexampled in the history of the world. He then drew one of those rapid and animating pictures, which he sketches off with so much facility, and which frequently rise to a degree of sublimity. Observing that the countenance of one of the persons, who happened to be present, was not exactly expressive of approbation, he said, “This is not your opinion? You do not think I ought to have closed my career at Moscow?”—“No, Sire,” was the reply; “for, in that case, history would have been deprived of the return from Elba, of the most generous and most heroic act that ever man performed; of the grandest and most sublime event that the world ever witnessed.”—“Well,” returned the Emperor, “there may be some truth in that; but, what say you to Waterloo? Ought I not to have perished there?”—“Sire,” said the person whom he addressed, “if I have obtained pardon for Moscow, I do not see why I should not ask it for Waterloo also. The future is beyond the will and the power of man; it is in the hands of God alone.”

At another time, the Emperor spoke of the different members of his family, the little assistance he had received from them, the many embarrassments they had occasioned him, &c. He particularly alluded to the mistaken notion they had conceived, that, being once placed at the head of a people, they should become identified with them, so as to prefer their interests to those of the common country. This idea, he said, might have originated in honourable feeling; but it was most erroneous and mischievous in its application. In their mistaken notions of independence, the members of his family sometimes seemed to consider their power as detached, forgetting that they were merely parts of a great whole, whose views and interests they should have aided instead of opposed. “But, after all,” continued he, “they were very young and inexperienced, and were surrounded by snares, flatterers, and intriguers, with secret and evil designs.” Then, passing suddenly from their faults to their good qualities, he added, “And yet, if we judge from analogy, what family, in similar circumstances, would have acted better? Every one is not qualified to be a statesman: that requires a combination of powers which does not often fall to the lot of one. In this respect, all my brothers were singularly situated; they possessed at once too much and too little talent. They felt themselves too strong to resign themselves blindly to a guiding counsellor, and yet too weak to be left entirely to themselves. But, take them all in all, I have certainly good reason to be proud of my family.

“Joseph would have been an ornament to society in any country; and Lucien would have been an honour to any political assembly. Jerome, as he advanced in life, would have developed every qualification requisite in a sovereign. Louis would have been distinguished in any rank or condition of life. My sister Eliza was endowed with masculine powers of mind: she must have proved herself a philosopher in her adverse fortune. Caroline possesses great talents and capacity. Pauline, perhaps the most beautiful woman of her age, has been, and will continue to the end of her life, the most amiable creature in the world. As to my mother, she deserves all kind of veneration. How seldom is so numerous a family entitled to so much praise! Add to this, that, setting aside the jarring of political opinions, we sincerely loved each other. For my part, I never ceased to cherish fraternal affection for them all; and I am convinced that in their hearts they felt the same sentiments towards me, and that, in case of need, they would have given me every proof of it.[it.]”

After dinner, the Emperor received all his suite, and we remained with him for upwards of an hour. He was in bed; but he conversed with facility, and was evidently better. We took leave of him with the hope of soon seeing him recovered. We remarked that he had not dined with us for the space of twelve days; and that without him our lives, our hours, our moments were deranged and devoid of interest.

GEOGRAPHY THE PASSION OF THE MOMENT.—STATE BED ARRIVED FROM LONDON.—THE EMPEROR CALLS IT A RAT-TRAP.—ANECDOTES RELATED BY THE ENGLISH.—LETTERS FROM ST. HELENA, &C.

5th.—The Emperor continued confined to his room. He sent for me, as he had done for several days past, at the hour appointed for taking his bath. He was somewhat relieved from the soreness in his mouth; but his teeth were still very tender. He resumed the conversation of the preceding day, on the structure of the globe, &c., for the Emperor now evinced an absolute passion for geography. He took my map of the world, and remarked on the irregular distribution of land and sea. He paused for a time on the vast table-land of Asia; and from the immense Pacific Ocean he passed to the more contracted space of the Atlantic. He started many questions relative to the variable and the trade winds, the monsoons of the Indian Ocean, the calm of the Pacific, the hurricanes of the West Indies, &c.; and he found at the respective places, on the map, the physical and speculative solutions which science furnishes on these subjects. This pleased him exceedingly, and he continued his perusal of the map, making remarks as he went over it: “Tables,” said he, “are of the highest use in assisting the mind to draw comparisons: they awaken and excite ideas. You have fallen on an excellent plan, in thus making your tables of history and geography embrace all the remarkable circumstances and phenomena connected with these sciences. I am every day better and better pleased with your book.”[book.”][^[2]]

The Emperor wished to refer to some of the oldest books of travels; and the works of the monk Rubruquis, and the Italian Marco Polo were brought to him. He glanced over them, and remarked that they contained no information, and possessed no other merit than their old age.

On leaving the bath, he went to his bed-chamber, to see the grand bed that had been sent to him from London, and which had just been put up. It was surmounted by a sort of canopy, supported on four large posts, so high that it was found necessary to cut them at the foot, before it could be put up in the Emperor’s little bed-chamber, which it almost filled. Besides, it had, from some cause or other, a very disagreeable smell, and was altogether so bulky and unsteady that it suggested the idea of a tottering castle. The Emperor said it was an absolute rat-trap; but, that he would take care not to be caught in it. He ordered it to be removed immediately; remarking, that he did not wish to be troubled with such lumber. It was accordingly taken down, and the old camp-bed was substituted in its place. The confusion and inconvenience occasioned by these changes put the Emperor very much out of humour.

In the course of the day, I had a long conversation with an English seaman, an enthusiastic admirer of the Emperor, who related to me several anecdotes, which pleased me the more as they were entirely new to me. But though not generally known, they are not the less true; for some of the facts the narrator had obtained from unquestionable authority, and to others he had himself been a witness. When I afterwards mentioned some of these particulars to the Emperor, he immediately recollected them and acknowledged their correctness. However, my informant assured me that, to his great astonishment, these anecdotes had been but little circulated in England; and that there, as well as in France, whatever reflected honour on Napoleon, or showed his character in an advantageous light, was lost by that fatality to which I have so often alluded: for calumny and falsehood constantly overwhelmed all that was good beneath the mass of evil that was invented. The following are some of the anecdotes, to which I have just now alluded.

“We were treated,” said my narrator, “in the best manner possible. At Verdun, the depôt of the English prisoners of war, we enjoyed the same privileges as the inhabitants. Verdun is a very pleasant town, and we found provisions and wine exceedingly cheap. We were allowed to walk several miles beyond the town, without the trouble of asking permission; and we could, if we pleased, obtain leave to absent ourselves for several days at a time. In short, we were so well protected against all sorts of vexations, that the General, under whose command we were placed, having been guilty of some irregularities in his treatment of us, was ordered to Paris, by the special command of Napoleon, and from fear of the punishment that awaited him, he committed suicide. It once happened that we received orders to confine ourselves to our lodgings, and we were informed that we should not be allowed to quit them for several days; the reason assigned for this measure was that the Emperor intended to pass through Verdun, and that it was not thought safe to allow him to be surrounded by so many of the enemy’s prisoners. Besides the disappointment of our curiosity (for we very much wished to see Napoleon), this order hurt us exceedingly. Do they distrust brave English seamen? we thought. Is it possible that they confound us with assassins? Be this as it might, we were doomed to be close prisoners; when, on the day of Napoleon’s arrival, we were, to our surprise, informed that we were again at liberty, and that the Emperor very much disapproved of the order that had been given for our confinement. We eagerly thronged to see the Emperor, and he passed us unattended by any escort, with an air of perfect security, and even with an expression of kindness, which quite delighted us. Our acclamations were not less sincere than those of the French themselves.

“Napoleon and Maria Louisa, returning from their journey in Holland, arrived at Givet on the Meuse, where several hundred English prisoners were at that time collected. A sudden storm arose; there was a heavy fall of rain, the river overflowed its banks, and the pontoon bridge was broken and rendered impassable. However, the Emperor, anxious to continue his journey, and not being in the habit of thinking any thing impossible, resolved to cross the river at all hazards. All the boatmen in the neighbourhood were collected together; but not one would attempt to cross. ‘However,’ said Napoleon, ‘I am determined to be on the other side of the river before noon.’ He immediately ordered some of the principal English prisoners to be brought to him: ‘Are there many of you here?’ said he, ‘and are there any sailors among you?’ ‘There are 500 of us, and we are all seamen,’ was the reply. ‘Well, I want to know whether you think it possible to cross the river, and whether you will undertake to convey me to the opposite bank.’ It was acknowledged to be a hazardous attempt, but some of our veterans undertook to accomplish it. Napoleon got into the boat with a degree of confidence that surprised us, and he reached the opposite bank in safety. He heartily thanked those who had rendered him this service, and ordered that they should be supplied with new clothes. To this he added a pecuniary present, and granted them their liberty.

“A young English sailor, seized with an ardent longing to return to his country, escaped from a depôt, and succeeded in making his way to the coast, in the neighbourhood of Boulogne, where he concealed himself in the woods. His eager desire to return home suggested to him the idea of making a little boat, to enable him to reach some of the English cruisers, which he spent the greater part of the day in watching, from the tops of the trees on the shore. He was seized just at the moment when he was about to put to sea with his little boat, and to make a desperate attempt to secure his liberty. He was imprisoned on suspicion of being a spy or a robber. This circumstance reached the ears of Napoleon, who was then at Boulogne, and he felt a curiosity to see the boat, of which he heard so much. When it was shown to him, he could not bring himself to believe that any rational being would have ventured to put to sea in it. He ordered the sailor to be brought to him, and the young man declared that he had really intended to escape, with the aid of his boat, and the only favour he asked was permission to execute his project. ‘You appear very eager to return to England,’ said the Emperor; ‘Perhaps you have left a sweetheart behind you?’ ‘No,’ replied the young man, ‘but I have a mother, at home, who is old and infirm, and I am anxious to return to her.’—‘Well, you shall return,’ said Napoleon; and he immediately ordered that the young man should be provided with new clothes, and sent on board the first English cruiser that might appear in sight. He also directed that he should be furnished with a sum of money, as a present to his mother, remarking that she must be a good mother, to have so good a son.”[^[3]]

Among the many acts of kindness which the Emperor exercised towards the English, who were detained in France, there is one which happened to come within my own knowledge, and of which a Mr. Manning was the object. This gentleman, whom I knew very well in Paris, and who had been induced to travel for the sake of scientific investigation, thought he might obtain his liberty by addressing a petition to Napoleon, praying for permission to visit the interior of Asia. His friends laughed at his simplicity; but he turned the laugh against us when, at the expiration of a few weeks, he triumphantly informed us of the success of his application. I find it mentioned in Dr. O’Meara’s work, that this same Mr. Manning, after a peregrination of several years, touched at St. Helena, on his return to Europe, and urgently requested leave to see Napoleon, in order to express his gratitude by laying a few presents at his feet, and answering any inquiries[inquiries] he might make respecting the Grand Lama, whom he had had an opportunity of visiting through the Emperor’s particular favour.

PHYSICAL ADVANTAGES OF RUSSIA.—HER POLITICAL POWER.—REMARKS ON INDIA.—PITT AND FOX.—IDEAS ON POLITICAL ECONOMY.—COMPANIES, OR FREE TRADE.—M. DE SUFFREN.—THE EMPEROR’S REMARKS ON THE NAVY.

6th.—The Emperor continued in a state of convalescence, and he received some visitors about the middle of the day. I waited upon him, accompanied by Madame de Montholon. He conversed a great deal about the society of Paris, and related several anecdotes of the Tuileries.

In the evening, the Emperor resumed his geographical observations. He dwelt particularly on Asia; on the situation of Russia, and the facility with which the latter power might make an attempt on India, or even on China, and the alarm which she might, therefore, justly excite in the English. He calculated the number of troops that Russia might employ, their probable point of departure, the route they would be likely to pursue, and the wealth they would obtain in such an enterprise. On all these subjects he made the most curious and valuable remarks. I very much regret my inability to record them here, for my notes, in this instance, afford me only slight hints, and I cannot trust to the accuracy of my memory for filling up the details.

The Emperor next adverted to what he called the admirable situation of Russia against the rest of Europe, to the immense mass she possessed for invasion. He represented that power seated beneath the pole, and backed by eternal bulwarks of ice, which, in case of need, would render her inaccessible. Russia, he said, could only be attacked during one third or fourth of the year; while, on the contrary, she had the whole year, the whole twelve months, to act against us; her assailants would encounter the rigours and privations of a frigid climate and a barren soil, while her troops, pouring down upon us, would enjoy the fertility and charms of our southern region.

To these physical circumstances, continued the Emperor, may be added the advantage of an immense population, brave, hardy, devoted and passive, including those numerous uncivilized hordes, to whom privation and wandering are the natural state of existence. “Who can avoid shuddering,” said he, “at the thought of such a vast mass, unassailable either on the flanks or in the rear, descending upon us with impunity; if triumphant, overwhelming every thing in its course; or, if defeated, retiring amidst the cold and desolation, that may be called its reserves in case of defeat; and possessing every facility of issuing forth again at a future opportunity. Is not this the head of the Hydra, the Antæus of fable, which can only be subdued by grappling it bodily, and stifling it in one’s arms. But where is the Hercules to be found? France alone could think of such an achievement, and it must be confessed we made but an awkward attempt at it.”

The Emperor was of opinion that, in the new political combination of Europe, the fate of that portion of the world depended entirely on the capacity and disposition of a single man. “Should there arise,” said he, “an Emperor of Russia, valiant, impetuous, and intelligent; in a word, a Czar with a beard on his chin, (this he pronounced very emphaticallly[emphaticallly]) Europe is his own. He may commence his operations on the German territory, one hundred leagues from the two capitals, Berlin and Vienna, whose sovereigns are his only obstacles. He secures the alliance of the one by force, and with his aid subdues the other, at a single stroke. He then finds himself in the heart of Germany, amidst the Princes of the second rank, most of whom are either his relations or dependents. Meanwhile, he may, should he think it necessary, throw a few firebrands across the Alps, on the soil of Italy, ripe for explosion, and he may then march triumphantly to Paris to proclaim himself the new Liberator. I know if I were in such a situation, I would undertake to reach Calais in a given time, and by regular marching stations, thereto become the master and arbiter of Europe....” Then, after a few moments’ silence, he added, “Perhaps, my dear Las Cases, you may be tempted to say, as the minister of Pyrrhus said to his master, ‘And after all, to what purpose?’ My answer is, to establish a new state of society, and to avert great misfortunes. This is a blessing which Europe expects and solicits. The old system is ended, and the new one is not consolidated, and will not be so until after long and furious convulsions.”

The Emperor was again silent, and after measuring, with his compasses, the distances on the map, he observed that Constantinople was, from its situation, calculated to be the centre and seat of universal dominion.

He then alluded to the English settlements in India, and asked me whether I knew any thing of their history. I told him what little I knew on this subject.

Queen Elizabeth created an East India Company by virtue of her royal prerogative.

A century later, the Parliament created another. However, as these two companies were found to injure each other by their competitions, they were united under one charter.

In 1716, the Company obtained from the sovereigns of India the famous firman or Indian charter, authorizing them to export or import free of all duty.

In 1741, the Company first commenced military interference in the affairs of India, in opposition to the French Company, who took the adverse side. Since then, the two nations have constantly waged war in that distant land, whenever a contest arose between them in Europe. France had a short interval of success in the war of 1740, was crushed in 1755, maintained an equality in 1779, and at length totally disappeared during the war of the Revolution.

The English East India Company now rules the whole peninsula, including a population of more than 60,000,000, of which 20,000,000 are its subjects, 20,000,000 its tributaries or allies, and the rest are involved in its system and obliged to go along with it.[^[4]]

Such is the famous East India Company, which at once acts the part of merchant and sovereign; whose wealth is derived both from commercial profits and territorial revenues. Hence it results that the merchant is frequently actuated by the ambition of the sovereign, while the sovereign plans, directs, and executes with the cupidity of the merchant. In these peculiar circumstances, in this two-fold character, we may trace the cause of the progress, measures, conflicts, contradictions, disorders, and clamours, that compose the history of this celebrated Company.

The English East India Company has long reigned absolute and independent. It was and still continues to be represented by a Court of Directors, chosen from among the proprietors. These Directors delegate and direct in India, by despatches, a regency or council, consisting of a Governor and some assessors, who represent and exercise the sovereign authority.

In 1767, the Crown for the first time put forward claims on the territory and revenues of India; but the Company purchased its relinquishment of them by a subsidy equivalent to ten or twelve millions of francs.

About the year 1773, the East India Company, finding its affairs extremely deranged, made application to Parliament, which took advantage of its embarrassment to secure its dependence. The Company’s possessions were subjected to new political, judicial, and financial regulations, which, however, produced no very satisfactory result. The Indian peninsula was thrown into the utmost disorder; and the establishment of a Supreme Court of Justice, operating as a rival to the Sovereign Council, and appointed for the purpose of introducing English laws in the country, particularly excited the dissatisfaction and alarm of the natives. The fury of parties, and their reciprocal accusations and complaints, have transmitted to us a picture of the odious measures, the boundless rapacity and atrocious tyranny of this stormy period, which is the least honourable in the history of the East India Company.

In 1783, with the view of providing a radical remedy for these evils, Mr. Fox, who was then Prime Minister, brought forward his famous Bill, the failure of which occasioned his resignation. Mr. Pitt, who had been the opponent of this Bill, in the following year introduced another, which laid the foundation of his celebrity, and which still continues to regulate the affairs of the East India Company. Fox’s Bill would, in fact, have been a judicial seizure; it would have placed all the Company’s property in the hands of a managing committee, who were to liquidate its debts, and dispose of all employments. The members of this Committee, appointed by the King or by Parliament, were to be irremoveable, and were to sit until they should have established the affairs of the Company on a better footing. A general outcry was raised against these propositions, which, it was said, would place important interests, vast patronage, and enormous influence, in the hands of a few individuals. It was said that the Bill was calculated to introduce a fourth power in the state, and to set up a rival to the Crown itself. Mr. Fox was even accused of a wish to establish himself permanently in office, by creating a sort of concealed sovereignty, superior to that of the King; for, Fox being at this time Minister, and having Parliament under his control, he would have appointed and ruled the proposed Committee. Through the influence of this Committee, he would have composed and governed Parliament, and with the aid of Parliament, he would have established and perpetuated the Committee; in short, there was no end to the power which he would thus have exercised. A violent clamour arose, and the King made the business a personal matter. He appealed to his own friends, to those individuals in the House of Peers who were sincerely attached to him, and regarded the measures proposed as an attack on his very existence. The Bill failed, and Fox quitted the ministry.

Pitt was more adroit, and assumed the appearance of greater moderation. In his Bill, he merely contented himself with placing the Company under a sort of guardianship; submitting all its operations to a Committee appointed to revise and counter-sign them. He left to the Company the power of nomination to all employments; but reserved to the Crown the appointment of the Governor General, and the veto on all other nominations. This Committee, which was appointed by the King, formed a new branch in the administration. Complaints were now raised against the vast increase of influence which this measure would give to the royal authority, and which, it was affirmed, would infallibly break the constitutional equilibrium. Fox had been reproached with having wished to keep this influence wholly apart from the King; and Pitt was accused of having placed it entirely in his hands. All that the one had desired to do for the people, it was said the other had done for the monarch. Indeed, these two distinct characters, these two opposite evils, constituted the whole difference between the two Bills, which produced a decisive battle between the Whigs and Tories. Mr. Pitt gained the victory, and the Tories triumphed.

The faults of Fox’s Bill still remain hypothetical, since they were never put to the test; but the evils that were predicted from Pitt’s measures have been formally fulfilled. The equilibrium of power has been broken, the true English constitution has ceased to exist, the royal authority, daily augmented, has encroached in every direction, and is now marching, unimpeded, on the high road, to arbitrary and absolute power.

The Ministers command in Parliament a majority, which they have themselves created, which perpetuates their power and legalizes their arbitrary measures. Thus, English liberty is daily more and more fettered by the very forms which were intended for its defence; and the future, instead of affording a prospect of remedy, appears to threaten greater misfortunes! How could Fox’s plan have produced more fatal results? For it may truly be said that all the great encroachments that have been made on the English constitution have been occasioned by the interests of India. Surely the weight which Fox wished to secure to the popular side could not have been more disastrous to the cause of liberty than that with which Pitt surcharged the royal prerogative!

Consequently, it is now often boldly asserted that Fox was in the right, that he was wiser, and could not have been so mischievous as his rival.

The names of Pitt and Fox having been thus introduced, the Emperor dwelt long on the characters, systems, and measures of those two celebrated statesmen; and concluded with the following remarks, which had already fallen from him on several previous occasions: “Pitt,” said he, “was the master of European policy; he held in his hand the moral fate of nations; but he made an ill use of his power. He kindled the fire of discord throughout the universe; and his name, like that of Erostratus, will be inscribed in history, amidst flames, lamentations, and tears!... The first sparks of our Revolution, then the resistance that was opposed to the national will, and, finally, the horrid crimes that ensued, all were his work. Twenty-five years of universal conflagration; the numerous coalitions that added fuel to the flame; the revolution and devastation of Europe; the bloodshed of nations; the frightful debt of England, by which all these horrors were maintained; the pestilential system of loans, by which the people of Europe are oppressed; the general discontent that now prevails;—all must be attributed to Pitt. Posterity will brand him as a scourge; and the man so lauded in his own time will hereafter be regarded as the genius of evil. Not that I consider him to have been really wicked, or doubt his having entertained the conviction that he was acting right. But St. Bartholomew had also its conscientious advocates; the Pope and Cardinals celebrated it by a Te Deum; and we have no reason to doubt their having done so in perfect sincerity. Such is the weakness of human reason and judgment! But that for which posterity will, above all, execrate the memory of Pitt, is the hateful school that he has left behind him, its insolent Machiavelism, its profound immorality, its cold egotism, and its utter disregard of justice and human happiness.

“Whether it be the effect of admiration and gratitude, or the result of mere instinct and sympathy, Pitt is, and will continue to be, the idol of the European aristocracy. There was, indeed, a touch of the Sylla in his character. His system has kept the popular cause in check, and brought about the triumph of the patricians. As to Fox, one must not look for his model among the ancients. He is himself a model, and his principles will sooner or later rule the world.”

The Emperor said a great deal about Fox, and expressed the great attachment he entertained for him. He had had his bust put up at Malmaison, before he knew him personally. He concluded with a remark, which he used often to make, at different times, and in various ways: “Certainly,” said he, “the death of Fox was one of the fatalities of my career. Had his life been prolonged, affairs would have taken a totally different turn; the cause of the people would have triumphed, and we should have established a new order of things in Europe.”

Returning to the subject of the East India Company, the Emperor observed that the question respecting the comparative advantage of the monopoly of a company, or free trade for all, was an important subject of consideration. “A Company,” said he, “places great advantages in the hands of a few individuals, who may attend very well to their own interests, while they neglect those of the mass. Thus every company soon degenerates into an oligarchy: it is always the friend of power, to which it is ready to lend every assistance. In this point of view, companies were exclusively suited to old times and old systems. Free trade, on the contrary, is favourable to the interests of all classes; it excites the imagination and rouses the activity of a people; it is identical with equality, and naturally leads to independence. In this respect, it is most in unison with our modern system. After the treaty of Amiens, by which France regained her Indian possessions, I had this grand question thoroughly discussed before me, and at great length; I heard both statesmen and commercial men; and my final opinion was in favour of free trade, and against companies.”

The Emperor then discussed several points of political economy which are treated by Smith in his Wealth of Nations. He admitted that they were true in principle; but proved them to be false in application. Unfortunately, the scantiness of my notes here prevents me from entering into particulars.

“Formerly,” said he, “only one kind of property was known, that which consisted in landed possessions; afterwards, a second kind arose, that of industry or manufactures, which is now in opposition to the first; then arose a third, that which is derived from the burdens levied on the people, and which, distributed by the neutral and impartial hands of government, might obviate the evils of monopoly on the part of the two others, intervene between them, and prevent them from coming into actual conflict.” This great contest of modern times, he called the war of the fields against the factories, of the castles against the counting-houses.

“It is,” said he, “because men will not acknowledge this great revolution in property, because they persist in closing their eyes on these truths, that so many acts of folly are now committed, and that nations are exposed to so many disorders. The world has sustained a great shock, and it now seeks to return to a settled state. There,” said he, “is in two words, the Key to the universal agitation that at present prevails: the ship’s cargo has been shifted, her ballast has been removed from the stem to the stern; hence are produced those violent oscillations which may occasion her wreck in the first storm, if the crew persist in working the vessel according to the usual method, and without obtaining a new balance.”

This day has been rich in materials for my Journal. Besides the subjects to which I have already alluded, several others were introduced. When speaking of India and the English East India Company, the name of M. de Suffren was mentioned.

The Emperor had had no opportunity of forming a correct idea of the character of this officer: he had heard of his having rendered important services to his country and for that reason alone, he (Napoleon) had been very liberal to his family. The Emperor questioned me respecting Suffren. I had not known him personally, and therefore I could only report what I had heard of him from other persons in the navy. It was admitted that, since the time of Louis XIV., M. de Suffren was the only officer who bore a resemblance to the distinguished men of the brilliant period of our navy.

Suffren possessed genius, invention, ardour, ambition, and inflexible steadiness; he was one of those men whom Nature has fitted for any thing. I have heard very shrewd and sensible persons say that his death, in the year 1789, might have been looked upon as a national calamity; that, had he been admitted to the King’s Council in the critical moment, he might have brought matters to a very different result. Suffren, who was harsh, capricious, egotistical, and a very unpleasant companion, was loved by nobody, though he was valued and admired by all.

He was a man with whom no one could live on good terms. He was impatient of control, fond of condemning every thing, and, while he incessantly declaimed against the utility of tactics, he proved himself to be a perfect tactician. In short, he evinced all the irritability and restlessness of genius and ambition deprived of elbow-room.

On obtaining the command of the Indian squadron, he went to take leave of the King, and one of the officers of the palace could with difficulty open a passage for him through the crowd. “I thank you,” said he to the Usher, grunting and snorting in his usual way; “but when I come out, Sir, you shall see that I know how to clear the way for myself.” And he spoke truly.

On his arrival in India, he opened a new theatre for the arms of France, and performed prodigies, which perhaps have not been duly appreciated in Europe. He set on foot measures and plans of command hitherto unknown; taking every thing upon himself, hazarding all, inventing all, and foreseeing all. He broke and created his officers as he thought proper; fitted out and manned ships that had long since been condemned; and found a wintering station on the spot, when, according to the old routine, the ships would have been obliged to sail to the Isle of France, a distance of twelve or fifteen hundred leagues. Finally, he broke through all rules, approached the coast, took on board troops who had been fighting the old enemy, and, after they had assisted him in opposing the English squadron, he conveyed them back to their camp, to resume the contest by land. Thus the French flag assumed a superiority that disconcerted the enemy. “Oh,” exclaimed the Emperor, “why did not Suffren live till my time, or why did not I light on a man of his stamp? I would have made him our Nelson. I was constantly seeking for a man qualified to raise the character of the French navy; but I could never find one. There is in the navy a peculiarity, a technicality, that impeded all my conceptions. If I proposed a new idea, immediately Ganthaume, and the whole Marine Department, were up in arms against me.—‘Sire, that cannot be.‘—Why not?—‘Sire, the winds do not admit of it:’ then objections were started respecting calms and currents, and I was obliged to stop short. How is it possible to maintain a discussion with those whose language we do not comprehend? How often, in the Council of State, have I reproached naval officers with taking an undue advantage of this circumstance! To hear them talk, one might have been led to suppose that it was necessary to be born in the navy to know any thing about it. Yet I often told them that, had it been in my power to have performed a voyage to India with them, I should, on my return, have been as familiar with their profession as with the field of battle. But they could not credit this. They always repeated that no man could be a good sailor unless he were brought up to it from his cradle; and they at length prevailed on me to adopt a plan, about which I long hesitated, namely, the enrolment of several thousands of children from six to eight years of age.

“My resistance was vain; I was compelled to yield to the unanimous voice, while I assured those who urged me to this measure that I left all the responsibility with them. What was the result? It excited clamour and discontent on the part of the public, who turned the whole affair into ridicule, styling it the massacre of the innocents, &c. Subsequently, De Winter, Verhuel, all the great naval commanders of the north, and others, assured me that from eighteen to twenty (the age for the conscription), was early enough to begin to learn the duties of a sailor. The Danes and Swedes employ their soldiers in the navy. With the Russians, the fleet is but a portion of the army; which affords the invaluable advantage of keeping up a standing army, and for a twofold object.

“I had myself,” added he, “planned something of the kind, when I created my marines; but what obstacles had I to encounter; what prejudices had I to subdue; what perseverance was I obliged to exert, before I could succeed in clothing the sailors in uniform, forming them into regiments, and drilling them by military exercise! I was told that I should ruin all. And yet, can there be a greater advantage than for one country to possess both an army and a navy? The men, thus disciplined, were not worse sailors than the rest; while, at the same time, they were the best soldiers. They were, in case of need, prepared to serve as sailors, soldiers, artillerymen, pontooners, &c. If, instead of being thus opposed by obstacles, I had found in the navy a man capable of entering into my views, and promoting my ideas, what importance might we not have obtained! But, during my reign, I never found a naval officer who could depart from the old routine, and strike out a new course. I was much attached to the navy; I admired the courage and patriotism of our seamen; but I never found between them and me an intermediate agent, who could have brought them into operation in the way I wished.”

NAPOLEON’S IMPERIAL SYSTEM.—PREFECTS.—AUDITORS OF THE COUNCIL OF STATE.—THE EMPEROR’S MOTIVES IN GRANTING LUCRATIVE APPOINTMENTS.—HIS FUTURE INTENTIONS.

7th.—Speaking of his imperial system, Napoleon observed that it had been the means of creating the most compact government, establishing the most rapid circulation in all its parts, and calling forth the most nervous efforts that had ever been witnessed. “And nothing short of this,” said he, “would have enabled us to triumph over such numerous difficulties, and to achieve so many wonders. The organization of the Prefectures, their operations, and the results they produced, were admirable. One and the same impulse was simultaneously communicated to more than 40,000,000 of men; and, by the help of those centres of local activity, the movement was not less rapid and energetic at the extremities than in the heart itself.

“Foreigners who visited France, and who were capable of observing and discerning, were filled with astonishment. To this uniformity of action prevailing over an immense extent of territory, must be attributed those prodigious efforts and immense results, which were acknowledged to have been hitherto inconceivable.

“The Prefects, with their local authority and resources, were themselves Emperors on a small scale. As their whole power proceeded from the main spring, of which they were only the communicating channels; as their influence was not personal, but was derived from their temporary functions; as they had no connexion with the district over which their jurisdiction extended; they afforded all the advantages of the great absolute agents of the old system, without any of their disadvantages. It was necessary to create this power,” continued the Emperor, “for the force of circumstances had placed me in the situation of a dictator. It was requisite that all the filaments issuing from me should be in harmony with the first cause, or my system would have failed in its result. The network which I spread over the French territory required a violent tension and prodigious power of elasticity, in order to cause the terrible blows that were constantly levelled at us to rebound to a distance. Thus most of the springs of my machinery were merely institutions connected with dictatorship, and measures for warlike defence. When the moment should have arrived for slackening the reins, all my connecting filaments would have relaxed sympathetically, and we should then have proceeded to our peace establishment and local institutions. If we yet possessed none of these, it was because circumstances did not admit of them. Our immediate fall would have been the infallible consequence, had we been provided with them at the outset. It must not be supposed that the nation was all at once prepared to make a proper use of her liberty. Both with respect to education and character, the bulk of the people were imbued with too many of the prejudices of past times. We were daily improving, but we had yet much to acquire. At the time of the revolutionary explosion, the patriots, generally speaking, were such by nature and by instinct: with them patriotism was an innate sentiment, a passion, a phrensy. Hence the effervescence, the extravagance, the fury, which marked that period. But it is vain to attempt to naturalize and mature the modern system by blows or by leaps. It must be implanted with education, and must take root with reason and conviction; and this will infallibly take place in the course of time, because modern principles are founded on natural truths. But,” added he, “the men of our time were eager for the possession of power, which they exercised with a domineering spirit, to say no worse, while, on the other hand, they were ready to become the slaves of those who were above them!... We have always wavered between these two extremes. In the course of my journeys, I was often obliged to say to the high officers who were about my person:—Pray let the Prefect speak for himself. If I went to some subdivision of a department, I then found it necessary to say to the Prefect:—Let the sub-prefect or the mayor make his reply. So eager were all to eclipse each other, and so little did they perceive the advantage that might arise from direct communication with me! If I sent my great officers or ministers to preside at the electoral colleges, I always advised them not to get nominated as candidates for the Senate, as their seats were secured to them by other means, and I wished that they should resign the honour of the nomination to the principal individuals of the provinces: but they never conformed with my wishes.”

This reminded me of a misunderstanding that once took place, between the Emperor and the Minister Decrès[Decrès], on the subject here alluded to. The Emperor having expressed displeasure at the nomination of the minister:—“Sire,” replied the latter, “your influence is more powerful than your will. I in vain resisted, and assured them that you wished these nominations to be made among themselves. They insisted on shewing deference to your choice, and if you send me back, I shall only be nominated over again.”

“I granted,” said Napoleon, “enormous salaries to Prefects and others; but, with regard to my liberality on this head, it is necessary to distinguish between what was systematic and what was incidental. The latter forced me to grant lucrative appointments; the former would ultimately have enabled me to obtain gratuitous services. At the first outset, when the object was to conciliate individuals, and to re-establish some kind of society and morality, liberal salaries, absolute fortunes, were indispensable; but, the result being obtained, and in the course of time the natural order of things being restored, my intention, on the contrary, would have been to render almost all high public duties gratuitous. I would have discarded those needy individuals who cannot be their own masters, and whose urgent wants engender political immorality. I would have wrought such a change in opinion that public posts should have been sought after for the mere honour of filling them. The functions of magistrate or justice of the peace would have been discharged by men of fortune, who, being guided solely by duty, philanthropy, and honourable ambition, would have afforded the surest pledge of independence. It is this that constitutes the dignity and majesty of a nation, that exalts her character, and establishes public morals. Such a change had become indispensable in France, and the dislike of getting into place might have been considered the forerunner of our return to political morality. I have been informed that the mania of place-hunting has crossed the sea, and that the contagion has been communicated to our neighbours. The English of former days were as much superior to this kind of meanness as the people of the United States now are. The love of place is the greatest check to public morals. A man who solicits a public post feels his independence sold beforehand. In England, the greatest families, the whole peerage, disdain not to hunt after places. Their excuse is that the enormous burdens of taxation deprive them of the means of living without additions to their income. Pitiful pretence! It is because their principles are more decayed than their fortunes. When people of a certain rank stoop to solicit public posts for the sake of emolument, there is an end to all independence and dignity of national character. In France, the shocks and commotions of our Revolution might have afforded an apology for such conduct. All had been unsettled, and all felt the necessity of re-establishing themselves. To promote this object, with the least possible offence to delicacy of feeling, I was induced to attach considerable emolument and high honour to all public posts. But, in the course of time, I intended to work a change by the mere force of opinion. And this was by no means impossible. Every thing must yield to the influence of power, when it is directed to objects truly just, honourable, and great.

“I was preparing a happy reign for my son. For his sake I was rearing in the new school, the numerous class of auditors of the Council of State. Their education being completed, they would, on attaining the proper age, have filled all the public posts in the Empire; thus confirmed in modern principles, and improved by the example of their precursors. They would all have been twelve or fifteen years older than my son, who would by this means have been placed between two generations and all their advantages: maturity, experience and prudence above him; youth, promptitude, and activity below him.”

Here I could not refrain from expressing my astonishment that the Emperor should never have thrown out a hint of the grand and important objects which he had in contemplation. “What would have been the use of promulgating my intentions,” said he; “I should have been styled a quack, accused of insinuation and subtilty, and have fallen into discredit. Situated as I was, deprived of hereditary authority, and of the illusion called legitimacy, I was compelled to avoid entering the lists with my opponents; I was obliged to be bold, imperious, and decisive. You have told me that in your Faubourg they used to say, Why is he not legitimate? If I had been so, I certainly could not have done more than I did; but my conduct might have appeared more amiable.”

LA VENDÉE.—CHARETTE.—LAMARQUE.—TRAGEDIES OF ÆSCHYLUS AND SOPHOCLES.—REAL TRAGEDIES AMONG THE ROMANS.—SENECA’S MEDEA.—SINGULAR FACT.

8th—To-day the Emperor dictated to one of his suite, by which we were very much gratified, for it was a proof that he felt himself better.

I attended him after dinner. The exertion of dictating seemed to have roused his spirits. He was in a very talkative mood; and we conversed together, walking backward and forward in his chamber. The troubles of La Vendée, and the men who had been distinguished in them, formed the principal topics of discourse.

Charette was the only individual to whom the Emperor attached particular importance. “I have read a history of La Vendée,” said he, “and if the details and portraits were correct, Charette was the only great character, the true hero, of that remarkable episode of our Revolution, which, if it presented great misfortunes, at least did not sacrifice our glory. In the wars of La Vendée, Frenchmen destroyed each other; but they did not degrade themselves: they received aid from foreigners; but they did not stoop to the disgrace of marching under their banners, and receiving daily pay for merely executing their commands. Yes,” continued he, “Charette impressed me with the idea of a great character. I observed that he on several occasions acted with uncommon energy and intrepidity. He betrayed genius.” I mentioned that I had known Charette very well in my youth; had been in the marines together at Brest, and for a long time we shared the same chamber, and messed at the same table. The brilliant career and exploits of Charette very much astonished all who had formerly been acquainted with him. We looked upon him as a common-place sort of man, destitute of information, ill-tempered, and extremely indolent; and we all, with one accord, pronounced him to belong to the class of insignificant beings. It is true that, when he began to rise into celebrity, we recollected a circumstance which certainly indicated decision of character. When Charette was first called into service, during the American war, and while yet a mere youth, he sailed from Brest in a cutter during the winter. The cutter lost her mast; and to a vessel of that class such an accident was equivalent to certain destruction. The weather was very stormy. Death seemed inevitable; and the sailors, throwing themselves on their knees, lost all presence of mind, and refused to make any effort to save themselves. Charette, notwithstanding his extreme youth, killed one of the men, in order to compel the rest to make the necessary exertions. This dreadful example had the desired effect, and the vessel was saved. “You see,” said the Emperor, “true decision of character always develops itself in critical circumstances. Here was the spark that distinguished the hero of La Vendée. Men’s dispositions are often misunderstood. There are sleepers whose waking is terrible. Kleber was an habitual slumberer; but, at the needful moment, he never failed to awake, a lion.”

I added that I had often heard Charette relate that, at a particular moment of extreme danger, the whole crew of the cutter, by a spontaneous impulse, made a vow to go in their shirts and barefooted, to carry a taper to our Lady of Recouvrance, at Brest, if she would vouchsafe to ensure their safety. “And you may believe it or not as you please,” added Charette with great simplicity: “but the fact is, they had no sooner uttered their prayer than the wind suddenly abated, and from that moment we were inspired with the hope of preservation.” On their return to land, the sailors, headed by their officers, devoutly fulfilled their vow. This was not the only miraculous circumstance connected with the little cutter. It was in the month of December, and the night was long and dark. The vessel had got among reefs, and, without mast or any nautical aid, she floated at random, and the crew had resigned themselves to the will of fate, when they unexpectedly heard the ringing of a bell. They sounded, and, finding but little depth of water, they cast anchor. What was their surprise and joy, when they found themselves, at day-break, at the mouth of the river of Landernau! The bell they had heard was that of the neighbouring parish church. The cutter had miraculously escaped the numerous rocks that are scattered about the entrance of Brest: she had been carried through the narrow inlet to the port, had passed three or four hundred ships that were lying in the roads, and had at length found a shelter precisely at the mouth of a river, in a calm and retired spot. “This,” said the Emperor, “shews the difference between the blindfold efforts of man, and the certain course of nature. That at which you express so much surprise must necessarily have happened. It is very probable that, with the full power of exerting the utmost skill, the confusion and errors of the moment would have occasioned the wreck of the vessel; whereas, in spite of so many adverse chances, nature saved her. She was borne onward by the tide; the force of the current carried her precisely through the middle of each channel, so that she could not possibly have been lost.”

Again alluding to the war of La Vendée, the Emperor mentioned that he had been withdrawn from the army of the Alps, for the purpose of being transferred to that of La Vendée; but that he preferred resigning his commission to entering a service where he conceived he should only be concurring in mischief, without the probability of obtaining any personal benefit. He said that one of the first acts of his Consulate had been to quell the troubles in La Vendée. He did much for that unfortunate department, the inhabitants of which were very grateful to him; and when he passed through it, even the priests appeared to be sincerely favourable to him. “Thus,” continued the Emperor, “the late insurrections did not present the same character as the first. Their prominent feature was not blind fanaticism, but merely passive obedience to a ruling aristocracy. Be this as it may, Lamarque, whom I sent to La Vendée at the height of the crisis, performed wonders, and even surpassed my hopes.” What might not have been his influence in the great contest; for the most distinguished chiefs of La Vendée, those who are doubtless at this moment enjoying the favours of the Court, acknowledged, through Lamarque, Napoleon as Emperor, even after Waterloo, even after his abdication! Was it that Lamarque was ignorant of the real state of things, or was it merely a whim on the part[part] of the conqueror? At all events, Lamarque is in exile: he is one of the thirty-eight; “because it is easier to proscribe than to conquer.”

The Emperor dined with us to-day, for the first time since his illness, that is to say, for the space of sixteen days. Our dinner was therefore a sort of festival: but we could not help remarking, with regret, the change in the Emperor’s countenance, which presented obvious traces of the ill effects of his long confinement.

After dinner we resumed our readings, which had been so long suspended. The Emperor read the Agamemnon of Æschylus, which he very much admired for its great force and simplicity. We were particularly struck with the graduation of terror which characterizes the productions of this father of tragedy. It was observed that this was the first spark to which the light of the modern drama may be traced.

Agamemnon being ended, the Emperor asked for the Œdipus of Sophocles, which also interested us exceedingly: and the Emperor expressed his regret at not having had it performed at St. Cloud. Talma had always opposed the idea; but the Emperor was sorry that he had relinquished it. “Not,” said he, “that I wished to correct our drama by antique models. Heaven forbid! But I merely wished to have an opportunity of judging how far ancient composition would have harmonized with modern notions.” He said he was convinced that such a performance would have afforded pleasure; and he made several remarks on the impression that was likely to be produced on modern taste by the Greek Coryphæus chorusses, &c.

He next turned to Voltaire’s Œdipus, on which he bestowed high commendation. This piece, he said, contained the finest scene in the French Drama. As to its faults, the absurd passion of Philoctetes, for example, they must not, he said, be attributed to the poet, but to the manners of the age, and the great actresses of the day, to whose laws a dramatic writer is obliged to submit. This commendation of Voltaire rather surprised us: it was something novel and singular in the mouth of the Emperor.

At eleven o’clock, after the Emperor had retired to bed, he sent for me, and resumed his conversation on the ancient and modern drama; on which he made many curious remarks. In the first place, he expressed his surprise that the Romans should have had no tragedies; but then again he observed that tragedy, in dramatic representation, would have been ill calculated to rouse the feelings of the Romans, since they performed real tragedy in their circuses. “The combats of the gladiators,” said he, “the sight of men consigned to the fury of wild beasts, were far more terrible than all our dramatic horrors put together. These, in fact, were the only tragedies suited to the iron nerves of the Romans.”

However, it was observed that the Romans possessed some dramatic essays, produced by Seneca. By the by, it is a curious fact, that in Seneca’s Medea, the chorus distinctly predicts the discovery of America, which took place fourteen hundred years after that drama was written. In the passage here alluded to, it is said, “A new Tiphys, a son of the earth, will, in ages to come, discover remote regions towards the west, and Thule will no longer be the extremity of the universe.”[^[5]]

THE EMPEROR CONSIDERABLY BETTER.—INFERNAL MACHINE

STORY.—MADAME R—-- DE ST. J—-- D’A—-- —THE TWO EMPRESSES.—JOSEPHINE’S EXTRAVAGANCE.—CHARACTERISTIC ANECDOTES OF THE EMPEROR.

9th.—To-day the Emperor felt himself infinitely better. He was surrounded by all his suite, and he began to talk of the prodigies of his early career, which, he said, must have produced a great impression in the world. “So great an impression,” said an individual present, “that some were induced to regard them as supernatural.” On this subject, the following anecdote was related: At the time of the explosion of the infernal machine, a person, who had just heard the news, called at a house in a certain quarter of the capital, and, hastily entering the drawing-room, in which a party was assembled, he informed the company that Napoleon was no more; and after giving an account of the event that had just taken place, he concluded by saying: “He is fairly blown up.” “He blown up!” exclaimed an old Austrian officer, who had eagerly listened to all that was said, and who had been a witness to many of the dangers which the young General of the army of Italy had so miraculously escaped; “he blown up! Ah! you know nothing about him. I venture to say that he is, at this very moment, as well as any of us. I know him and all his tricks of old!”

The name of Madame R—-- de St. J—-- d’A—-- having been mentioned, and some one having remarked to the Emperor how much attachment she had evinced for him during his stay at the Isle of Elba. “How! she?” exclaimed the Emperor, with mingled surprise and satisfaction.—“Yes, Sire.”—“Poor lady!” said he, in a tone of deep regret; “and yet how ill I treated her! Well! this at least repays me for the ingratitude of those renegades, on whom I lavished so many favours....” Then, after a few moments’[moments’] silence, he said, significantly, “It is very certain that one can never know people’s characters and sentiments until after great trials.“

At dinner, the Emperor was very good humoured and cheerful. He congratulated himself on having got through his late illness, without having recourse to medicine, without paying tribute to the Doctor. At this, he said, the latter had been very much vexed. He would have been content with ever so little, with the slightest acknowledgment; he only asked for compliance with the form, like a priest in confession. The Emperor laughed, and added, that, out of mere complaisance, he had made trial of a gargle, but that its strong acidity had disagreed with him. This led him to observe that mild medicines were best suited to his constitution. “Gentle remedies, whether physical or moral,” said he, “are the only ones that take effect on me.”

In the course of conversation, the Emperor spoke of the Empresses Josephine and Maria Louisa, of whom he related some very interesting details, and concluded with his usual observation, that the one was the model of the graces, with all their fascinations; and the other the emblem of innocence, with all its charms.

The Emperor mentioned that Malmaison had cost about three or four hundred thousand francs: that is to say, all that he was at that time possessed of. He then calculated the amount of the sums which the Empress Josephine must have received from him: and added that, with a little order and regularity, she might, probably, have left behind her fifty or sixty million francs. “Her extravagance,” said the Emperor, “vexed me beyond measure. Calculator as I am, I would, of course, rather have given away a million of francs than have seen a hundred thousand squandered away.” He informed us that, having one day unexpectedly broken in upon Josephine’s morning circle, he found a celebrated milliner, whom he had expressly forbidden to go near the Empress, as she was ruining her by extravagant demands. “My unlooked for entrance occasioned great dismay in the academic sitting. I gave some orders unperceived, and on the lady’s departure, she was seized and carried to Bicètre. A great outcry was raised among the higher circles in Paris; it was said that my conduct was disgraceful. It soon became the fashion to visit the milliner in her confinement, and there was daily a file of carriages at the gate of the prison. The police informed me of these facts. All the better, said I; but I hope she is not treated with severity; not confined in a dungeon?—‘No, Sire, she has a suite of apartments, and a drawing room.’ Oh, well! let her be. If this measure is pronounced to be tyrannical, so much the better; it will be a diapason stroke for a great many others. Very little will serve to shew that I can do more.” He also mentioned a celebrated man-milliner, who, he remarked, was the most insolent fellow he had ever met with in the whole course of his life. “I was one day,” said the Emperor, “speaking to him respecting a trousseau that he had furnished, when he had the presumption to call my conduct in question. He did what no man in France, except himself, would have ventured to do; he began, with great volubility, to prove to me that I did not grant a sufficient allowance to the Empress Josephine; and that it was impossible she could pay for her clothes out of such a sum. I soon put an end to his impertinent eloquence; I cut him short with a look, and left him transfixed.”

When the Emperor had retired to his chamber, he sent for me, and after he had gone to bed, he continued to converse very cheerfully, on various subjects. He said he found himself much better, and that he felt a pleasure in chatting. However, he was very much troubled with cough, and this had forced him to rise from table earlier than he otherwise would have done. “I unthinkingly took too much snuff,” said he, “my attention having been absorbed in the conversation of the moment. In such a case you should always take away my snuff-box: that is the way to serve those one loves.”