Part 21
It was difficult to obtain signatures to so moderate an Address. Would it be believed, that this candid and authentic avowal of our past functions, and the use of the phrase “Emperor Napoleon,” in
## particular, were held as objections to it? Every one found fault with
it according to his humour. Such were the sentiments of the day. Only seventeen signatures could be collected. Eighteen or twenty persons promised to add their names when the list should amount to twenty-five; but nobody would assist in completing that number. Two of those, who had already signed it, thinking they had put their hand to a document which they did not well understand, their sole intention having been to solicit the confirmation of their appointments, even went so far as to erase their signatures. The original copy of this document must be either at Paris or Versailles, in the hands of one of the persons who signed it.
THE EMPEROR’S IDEA OF RESERVING CORSICA.—HIS OPINION OF ROBESPIERRE.—HIS IDEAS RESPECTING PUBLIC OPINION.—EXPIATORY INTENTION OF THE EMPEROR WITH REGARD TO THE VICTIMS OF THE REVOLUTION.
18th.—After the accustomed occupation of the day, I accompanied the Emperor to the garden about four o’clock. He had just completed his dictation on the subject of Corsica. Having concluded every thing he had to say relative to that island, and to Paoli, he adverted to the interest which he himself excited there, while yet so young, at the time of his separation from Paoli. He added that latterly he might to a certainty have united in his favour the wishes, the sentiments, and the efforts of the whole population of Corsica; and that, had he retired to that island on quitting Paris, he would have been beyond the reach of any foreign power whatever. He had an idea of doing so when he abdicated in favour of his son. He was on the point of reserving to himself the possession of Corsica during his life. No obstacle at sea would have obstructed his passage thither. But he abandoned that design for the sake of rendering his abdication the more sincere and the more advantageous to France. His residence in the centre of the Mediterranean, in the bosom of Europe, so near France and Italy, might have furnished a lasting pretext to the Allies. He even preferred America to England, from the same motive and the same idea. It is true that, in the sincerity of his own measures, he neither did, nor could foresee, his unjust and violent banishment to St. Helena.
The Emperor, next proceeding to take a review of different points of the Revolution, dwelt particularly on Robespierre, whom he did not know, but whom he believed to be destitute of talent, energy, or system. He considered him, notwithstanding, merely as the scapegoat of the Revolution, sacrificed as soon as he endeavoured to arrest it in its course:—the common fate, he observed, of all who, before himself (Napoleon) had ventured to take that step. The Terrorists and their doctrine survived Robespierre; and if their excesses were not continued, it was because they were obliged to bow to public opinion. They threw all the blame on Robespierre; but the latter declared shortly before his death, that he was a stranger to the recent executions, and that he had not appeared in the Committees for six weeks previously. Napoleon confessed that, while he was with the army of Nice, he had seen some long letters addressed by Robespierre to his brother, condemning the horrors of the Commissioners of the Convention, who, as he expressed it, were ruining the Revolution by their tyranny and atrocities. “Cambaceres, who,” observed the Emperor, “must be a good authority on subjects relating to that period, answered an enquiry which I one day addressed to him respecting the condemnation of Robespierre, in these remarkable words: ‘Sire, that was a sentence without a trial;’ adding that Robespierre had more foresight and conception than was generally imagined; and that his intention was, after subduing the unbridled factions which he had to oppose, to restore a system of order and moderation. ‘Some time previously to his fall,’ added Cambaceres, ‘he delivered a most admirable speech on this subject; it was not thought proper to insert it in the Moniteur, and all trace of it is now lost.’”
This is not the first instance I have heard of omissions and want of accuracy in the Moniteur. In the reports inserted in that journal relative to the proceedings of the Assembly, there must be a period remarkable for incorrectness; as the minutes of those proceedings were for a time arbitrarily drawn up by one of the Committees.
Those who are induced to believe that Robespierre was at once wearied, satiated, and alarmed by the Revolution, and had resolved on checking it, affirm that he would not take any decided step until after he had read his famous speech. He considered it so fine that he had no doubt of its effect on the Assembly. If this be true, his mistake or his vanity cost him dear. Those who think differently assert that Danton and Camille-des-Moulins had precisely the same views; and yet that Robespierre sacrificed them. To these it is replied that Robespierre sacrificed them to preserve his popularity, because he judged that the decisive moment had not yet arrived; or because he did not wish to resign to them the glory of the enterprise.
Be this as it may, it is certain that the nearer we approach to the instruments and the agents in that catastrophe, the greater obscurity and mystery we find; and this uncertainty will but increase with time. Thus the page of history will, on this point as on many others, become the record, not so much of the events which really occurred, as of the statements which are given of them.
In the course of our conversation relative to Robespierre, the Emperor said that he had been very well acquainted with his brother, the younger Robespierre, the representative to the Army of Italy. He said nothing against this young man, whom he had led into action and inspired with great confidence and considerable enthusiasm for his person; so much so, that previously to the 9th of Thermidor, young Robespierre, being recalled by his brother, who was then secretly laying his plans, insisted on Napoleon’s accompanying him to Paris. The latter experienced the greatest difficulty in ridding himself of the importunity, and, at length, only escaped it by requesting the interference of the General-in-chief Dumerbion, whose entire confidence he possessed, and who represented that it was absolutely necessary he should remain where he was. “Had I followed young Robespierre,” said the Emperor, “how different might have been my career! On what trivial circumstances does human fate depend!—Some office would doubtless have been assigned to me; and I might at that moment have been destined to attempt a sort of Vendemiaire. But I was then very young; my ideas were not yet fixed. It is probable, indeed, that I should not have undertaken any task that might have been allotted to me; but supposing the contrary case, and even admitting that I had been successful, what results could I have hoped for? In Vendemiaire the revolutionary fever was totally subdued; in Thermidor it was still raging in its utmost fury and at its greatest height.”
“Public opinion,” said the Emperor, on another occasion, when conversing on another subject, “is an invisible and mysterious power which it is impossible to resist: nothing is more unsteady, more vague, or more powerful; and capricious as it may be, it is, nevertheless, just and reasonable more frequently than is supposed. On becoming Provisional Consul, the first act of my administration was the banishment of fifty anarchists. Public opinion, which had at first been furiously hostile to them, suddenly turned in their favour, and I was forced to retract. But some time afterwards, these same anarchists, having shewn a disposition to engage in plots, were again overthrown by that very public opinion, which had now returned to support me. Thus, through the errors that were committed at the time of the restoration, popularity was secured to the regicides, who but a moment before had been proscribed by the great mass of the nation.
“It belonged to me only,” continued the Emperor, “to shed a lustre over the memory of Louis XVI. in France, and to purify the nation of the crimes with which it had been sullied by frantic acts and unfortunate fatalities. The Bourbons, being of the royal family, and coming from abroad, merely avenged their own private cause, and augmented the national opprobrium. I, on the contrary, being one of the people, should have raised the character of the nation, by banishing from society, in her name, those whose crimes had disgraced her. This was my intention, but I proceeded prudently in the fulfilment of it. The three expiatory altars at St. Denis were but a prelude to my design. The Temple of Glory, on the site of the _Magdelaine_, was to have been devoted to this object with still greater solemnity. There, near the tomb and over the very bones of the political victims of our revolution, monuments and religious ceremonies would have consecrated their memory in the name of the French people. This is a secret that was not known to above ten individuals: though it had been found necessary to communicate a hint of the design to those who were intrusted with the arrangement of the edifice. I should not have executed my scheme in less than ten years; but what precautions had I not adopted; how carefully had I smoothed every difficulty, and removed every obstruction! All would have applauded my design, and no one would have suffered from it. So much depends on circumstances and forms,” added he, “that in my reign, Carnot would not have dared to write a memorial, boasting of the death of the King, though he did so under the Bourbons. I should have leagued with public opinion in punishing him; while public opinion sided with him in rendering him unassailable.”
CASCADE AT BRIARS.
19th.—My son and I rose very early. Our task had been finished on the preceding day; and as the Emperor could not want me for some time, we availed ourselves of the fineness of the morning to explore the neighbourhood of our abode.
Passing through the valley of James-Town, on the right of our little level height at Briars, was a deep ravine, the sides of which were intersected by numerous perpendicular cliffs. We descended into the ravine, not without difficulty, and found ourselves at the edge of a little limpid streamlet, beside which grew abundance of cresses. We amused ourselves by gathering them as we passed along; and after a few windings we soon reached the extremity of the valley and the streamlet, which are closed transversely by a huge pointed mass of rock, from the summit of which issues a pretty cascade, produced from the waters of the surrounding-heights. This water-fall descending into the valley forms the streamlet along which we had just passed, and which rolls sometimes in a rapid stream to the sea. The water of the cascade was at this moment dispersed above our heads in small rain or light vapour; but in stormy weather it rushes forth in a torrent, and furiously dashes through the ravine till it reaches the sea. To us the scene presented a gloomy, solitary, and melancholy aspect; though it was altogether so interesting that we quitted it with regret.
To-day was Sunday, and we all dined with the Emperor; he good humouredly observed that we composed his state party. After dinner the circle of our amusements was not very extensive: he asked us whether we would have a comedy, an opera, or a tragedy. We decided in favour of a comedy, and he himself read a portion of Moliere’s _Avare_, which was continued by other individuals of the party. The Emperor had a cold, and was slightly feverish. He withdrew early from his walk in the garden, and desired me to see him again that evening, if he should not have gone to bed. My son and I accompanied the rest of the gentlemen to the town; and on our return, the Emperor had retired to rest.
FIRST AND ONLY EXCURSION DURING OUR ABODE AT BRIARS. THE ADMIRAL’s BALL.
20th.—The Emperor, after dictating as usual to one of the gentlemen, called me about five o’clock. He was alone; the rest of the gentlemen and my son having gone to the town, where the Admiral was that evening to give a ball. The Emperor and I walked along the road leading to the town, until we came within sight of the sea and the shipping. On the left, in the depth of the valley, was a pretty little house. The Emperor stood for a considerable time with his glass at his eye, examining the garden, which appeared to be very well cultivated, and in which a group of beautiful children were at play, attended by their mother. We were informed that this house belonged to Major Hudson, a resident in the island, the same gentleman who had lent me the _Annual Register_. The house was situated at the bottom of the ravine which commences in the vicinity of Briars, and near the curious cascade which I have already noticed. The Emperor took a fancy to go down to the house, though it was now nearly six o’clock. The road was extremely steep: we found it longer and more difficult of descent than we had expected; and we reached the bottom of the ravine quite out of breath. We took a survey of the little domain, which had evidently been laid out as the residence of a permanent occupant, and not as the mere temporary abode of a traveller passing to a foreign land; and, after receiving the attentions of the master of the house, and paying a few compliments to the mistress, the Emperor took his leave.
But the evening was already far advanced, and we were very much fatigued; we therefore accepted the horses that were offered us, and speedily returned to our hut and our dinner. This little excursion, and the exercise of riding on horseback, which had been so long relinquished, seemed to do the Emperor good.
He desired that I would go to the Admiral’s ball, in spite of my reluctance to leave him. At half-past eight o’clock he observed that the night was dark, the road bad, and that it was time I had set out. He insisted on my leaving him, and he entered his room, where I saw him undress and retire to bed. He again desired me to go, and I unwillingly obeyed. I left him alone; and thus, for the first time, violated a custom which had become most dear to me.
I proceeded on foot to the town. The Admiral had given great _éclat_ to his ball. It had been talked of for a considerable time before. He wished it to be understood that the entertainment was given solely on our account, and we had been formally invited. Was it most advisable to accept or to decline the invitation? Something might be said on both sides. Political misfortunes did not require that we should assume the appearance of domestic sorrow; it might be proper, and even useful, to mingle cheerfully in company with our jailors. We might, therefore, adopt either resolution indifferently. We determined to go. But what sort of conduct were we to observe? Should we assume pride, or employ address? The first might be attended with inconvenience; in our situation every wounded pretension became an insult. In the second there could be no impropriety: to receive marks of politeness as though we were accustomed to them, and as though they were our due, and to overlook any little want of respect, was certainly the wisest course. I arrived at the ball very late, and left it very early. I was much pleased with the entertainment in every respect.
MY CONDUCT WHILE THE EMPEROR WAS AT ELBA.
21st—22nd. The Emperor, who had often questioned me on the line of conduct pursued by many of his ministers, members of his Council, and officers of his Household, during his residence at the Island of Elba, at length called me to account in my turn, saying:—“But you yourself, Las Cases, what did you do after the arrival of the King? What happened to you all that time? Come, sir, make a report on that subject: you know this is my way; and it is the only plan by which we can properly classify what we say, or what we wish to learn. Besides, it will furnish you with another article for your Journal. And, don’t you see?“ added he, jokingly, “your biographers will only have the trouble of extracting; the thing will be all ready written to their hands.”
“Sire,” I replied, “you shall have a literal statement of every thing; though I have but little to say. I commanded, on the 31st of March, the 10th legion of the National Guard of Paris, that of the Legislative Body. We lost, during the day, a considerable number of men. At night I heard of the capitulation; I wrote to the officer next in rank to myself, and transferred to him the command of my legion, informing him that, though in my quality of member of the Council of State I had previously received orders to proceed elsewhere, yet I had not wished to abandon my legion at the moment of danger; but that the event which had just occurred having changed the aspect of affairs, I must now proceed forthwith to fulfil new duties.
“At day-break I set out on the road to Fontainebleau, and found myself in the midst of the wrecks of Marmont’s and Mortier’s detachments. I was on foot, but I doubted not I should be able to purchase a horse. I soon, however, discovered that soldiers in retreat are neither just nor civil. At that disastrous moment, my uniform of a National Guard was insulted, and I was myself ill-treated.
“After an hour’s walk, overpowered by the fatigue of the journey, joined to the want of rest which I had experienced for two or three nights previously; seeing around me no face that I knew, and having no hope of procuring a horse, I determined, with a sorrowful heart, to return to the capital.
“The National Guard was ordered out to assist in the triumphant entry of the enemy: there was even a probability of its being selected as a guard of honour to the Sovereigns who had conquered us. I determined to be absent from my home. I had conveyed my wife and children safely out of Paris a week or two before, and for a few days had recourse to the hospitality of a friend. I never went out of doors but in a shabby great coat, visiting the coffee-houses and public places, and joining the different groups which were formed in the streets. My object was to make observations on persons and things, and above all, to learn the real feeling of the people. How many extraordinary occurrences did I not witness in the course of my rambles!
“I saw in front of the residence of the Emperor of Russia, men distinguished by their rank, and calling themselves Frenchmen, exerting their utmost endeavours to induce the rabble to call out ‘_Long live Alexander, our deliverer!_’
“I saw, Sire, your monument on the Place Vendôme resist the efforts of a few wretches, belonging to the lowest dregs of the people, who had been hired by persons of note.
“Finally, in one of the comers of the Place Vendôme, before the hotel of the Commandant of the place, I saw one of the officers of your household trying, on the first evening after your departure, to prevail on young conscripts to enter another service than yours; but he received from them a lesson that might have made him blush for his own conduct, had he been capable of feeling shame.
“Doubtless, those to whom I here allude will exclaim that I mingled with the _rabble_; and yet it may with justice be affirmed that the acts of baseness which then disgraced France did not originate with the rabble. These acts were far from obtaining the countenance of the lower classes of the people; on the contrary, they were decidedly censured by the uprightness, generosity, and nobleness of sentiment, manifested in the public streets. What reproaches might I not convey, were I to repeat all that I heard on this subject!
“Your Majesty abdicated. I had refused my signature to the act of adherence of the Council of State; but I thought I might make amends for this by an additional act of adherence. The Moniteur was every day filled with articles of this kind; mine however was not deemed worthy the honour of insertion.
“At length the King arrived: he was henceforth our sovereign. He appointed a day for the reception of those individuals who had been presented to Louis XVI. I proceeded to the Tuileries to avail myself of this prerogative.—What were my reflections on entering those apartments which had so lately been filled with your glory and power! And yet I presented myself to the King sincerely and in good faith; my foresight never led me even to think of your return.
“Deputations to the King were multiplied beyond number: a meeting of the officers of the naval establishment was proposed. To the person who communicated this fact to me I replied that nothing could be more gratifying to my heart than to join my old comrades, none of whom could entertain sentiments purer than I did; but that the offices I had filled placed me in a peculiar and delicate situation, and that motives of prudence must deter me from appearing where the zeal of a president might lead him to employ expressions which I neither could nor would sanction by my opinion or presence.
“Subsequently, however, in spite of my mortification and disgust, I determined, at the solicitation of some friends, to think of something for myself. The Council of State was re-composed; several members of the last Council assured me, in spite of my recent conjectures on that point, that nothing was easier than to retain my office; that they had succeeded merely by an application to the Chancellor of France. I had not courage to venture a moment’s encroachment on his Lordship’s time: and therefore contented myself with writing to acquaint him that I had been Master of Requests to the last Council of State; and that, if that circumstance were not sufficient to exclude me from becoming a member of the new assembly, I begged him to recommend me to the King as a Councillor of State. I observed that I would not advance as claims to favour my eleven years’ emigration or the loss of my patrimony in the King’s cause. At that period I had only done what I then considered to be my duty; which I had at all times, to the best of my knowledge, fulfilled faithfully and to the last moment. This phrase, as may well be supposed, deprived me even of the honour of a reply.