Part 22

“Meanwhile the new situation of Paris, the sight of the foreign troops, the acclamations of every kind, were more than I could endure; and I adopted the determination of going for a short time to London, where I should meet with old friends, who might afford me all the consolation of which I was susceptible. Then, again, I recollected that I might find in London the same tumult and the same exultation that had driven me from Paris; this proved to be the fact. London was the scene of festivity and rejoicing, to celebrate the triumphs of the English and our humiliation.

“During my stay in London, the marine establishment was re-modelled at Paris, and the Chevalier de Grimaldi, one of my old comrades, whom I had not seen or heard of for a length of time, was appointed a member of the Committee. He called on my wife, and expressed his surprise that I had not put in my claims; observing that I was entitled, by law, to return to the corps, or to retire on a certain pension. He advised my wife to bring me to a decision on the subject, and to rely on his friendship; adding that there was no time to be lost. I attached higher value to this mark of attention than to the favour which it was intended to procure me. However, I wrote to the Committee, requesting that, as I was desirous of wearing a uniform to which I had become attached, I might be allowed to enjoy the honorary title of _Capitaine de Vaisseau_; while at the same time I renounced the pension, to which I did not conceive myself entitled.

“I returned to Paris. The diversity of opinions and the irritation of the public mind were extreme. I had for a long time lived in the greatest retirement. I now confined myself entirely to the domestic circle of my wife and children. Never at any former period of my life did I prove myself a better husband or a better father; and never, perhaps, was I more physically happy.

“As I was one day reading, in the _Journal des Debats_, an account of a work of M. Beauchamp, I found mentioned the names of several gentlemen who were stated to have assembled on the Place Louis XV. on the 31st March, to excite sentiments in favour of royalty; and my name was among the number. It was in good company, no doubt; but at the same time the statement was untrue; and I should have been considerably lowered in the estimation of many if it had been believed. I wrote to request a correction of the error, which was calculated to render me the subject of congratulations to which I was in no way entitled.

“I observed that it was out of my power at the time to act in the way described, whatever might have been my inclination. As the commander of a legion of the National Guard, I had contracted obligations from which no consideration on earth could free me, &c. I sent my letter to the deputy Chabaud-Latour, one of the proprietors of the _Journal des Debats_, a man for whom I entertained a great esteem. He declined publishing my letter, purely from good intentions towards me. I then addressed it to the editor; but he refused to insert it on account of difference of opinion.

“Meanwhile, the state of the public mind indicated an inevitable and speedy catastrophe. Every thing foreboded that the Bourbons would share the fate of the Stuarts. My wife and I used every evening to amuse ourselves in reading Hume’s History of England. We began at Charles I., and your Majesty arrived before we had got to James II.” (Here the Emperor could not repress a laugh.)

“Your Majesty’s advance and arrival,” continued I, “were to us a subject of the greatest astonishment and anxiety. I was far from foreseeing the honourable voluntary exile which it would gain for me in the end; for I was then little known to your Majesty; and circumstances arising out of that event alone brought me here. Had I filled the most trivial post under the King; had I even been a frequent attendant at the Tuileries, which would have been very natural and consistent with propriety, I should not have appeared for a length of time in your Majesty’s presence. Not, indeed, that I should have had any thing to reproach myself with, or that my attachment to you would have been the less sincere; but because I should not have wished to pass for a piece of court furniture, or to seem always ready to offer incense at the shrine of power. I should have awaited an appointment, instead of pressing forward to solicit one. But as it was, I felt myself so much at liberty, every thing about me was in such perfect harmony, that I seemed to form a part of the great event. I therefore eagerly hastened to meet the first glance of your Majesty; I felt as though I had claims on your kindness and favour. On your return from Waterloo, the same sentiments brought me immediately and spontaneously near your person, which I have never since quitted. If I was then attracted by your public glory, I am now attached by your private virtues; and if it be true that the gratification of my feelings then cost me some sacrifice, I now find myself repaid a hundred-fold, by the happiness I enjoy in being able to tell you so.

“It would however be difficult to describe the extreme disgust I felt at every thing during the ten months of your absence. I felt an utter contempt for mankind and worldly vanities. Every illusion was destroyed, all interest had vanished. Every thing appeared to be at an end, or to be undeserving of the smallest value. During my emigration, I had received the cross of St. Louis; an ordinance decreed that it was to be legitimated by a new brevet. I had not spirit to put in my claim. Another ordinance directed that the titles bestowed by your Majesty should be sent in to be confirmed; but I felt indifferent with regard to compromising those which I had obtained during the Empire. In fine, I received a letter from the Marine department, informing me that my captain’s commission had just been forwarded thither, and there it still remains.

“Your Majesty’s absence was to me a widowhood, the affliction and grief of which I concealed from no one. But on your return I was repaid for all by the testimony borne by those who surrounded you, and to whom I had previously been scarcely known. At your Majesty’s first levee, the individual who was _ad interim_ at the head of the department of foreign affairs, coming from the presence, took me aside to a window, and told me to go home and prepare, as I should probably have to set out on a journey. He had just, he said, proposed me to your Majesty, adding that he had represented me as a madman, but mad for love of you. I wished to know whither I was to be sent; but that, he said, he neither would nor could tell me. I never heard any thing more of the matter.

“M. Regnault de Saint-Jean d’Angeli placed me on the list of the Imperial Commissioners whom your Majesty sent to the departments, I assured him that I was ready to do any thing; but I observed that I was a _noble_ and an _emigrant_, and that these two words pronounced by the first comer would be sufficient to annihilate me, in case of necessity, at any time or in any place. He acknowledged the justice of my observation, and relinquished his intention.

“A Senator next solicited that your Majesty would appoint me to the prefecture of Metz, his native town. He requested me to make this sacrifice for only three months, in order, as he said, to conciliate the popular mind, and set things to rights. At length Decrés and the Duke of Bassano proposed me as a Councillor of State; and, the third day after your arrival, your Majesty signed my appointment.”

23rd.—The Emperor was still indisposed: he confined himself to his room, and would see nobody. He sent for me at 9 o’clock in the evening. I found him very low-spirited and melancholy. He scarcely spoke to me, and I did not dare to say anything to him. If I regarded his illness as merely physical, it grieved me sincerely:—if he laboured under mental affliction, how much more was I grieved that I could not employ all the resources of consolation with which the heart naturally overflows for those whom we truly love. The Emperor dismissed me in about half an hour.

24th.—The Emperor continued indisposed, and still declined seeing any body. He sent for me to dine with him at a late hour. Dinner was served on a little table beside the sofa on which he was lying. He ate heartily. He said that he stood in need of some sudden revulsion of the constitution, which he should soon obtain; so well did he understand his own temperament. After dinner he took up the Memoirs of Marshal de Villars, which amused him. He read aloud many passages, which revived former recollections, and gave rise to many anecdotes.

THE EMPEROR’S TEMPERAMENT.—RIDING.—NOTIONS OF MEDICINE.

25th.—The Emperor still continued unwell: he had passed a bad night. At his desire I dined with him beside the sofa, which he was unable to leave. He was, however, evidently much better. After dinner he wished to read. He had a heap of books scattered around him on the sofa. The rapidity of his imagination, the fatigue of dwelling always on the same subject, or of reading what he already knew, caused him to take up and throw down the books one after the other. At length he fixed on Racine’s Iphigenia, and amused himself by pointing out the beauties, and discussing the few faults, to be found in that work. He dismissed me at an early hour.

Contrary to the general opinion, in which I myself once participated, the Emperor is far from possessing a strong constitution. His limbs are large, but his fibres are relaxed. With a very expanded chest, he is constantly labouring under the effects of cold. His body is subject to the influence of the slightest accidents. The smell of paint is sufficient to make him ill; certain dishes, or the slightest degree of damp, immediately take a severe effect on him. His body is far from being a body of iron, as is generally supposed: all his strength is in his mind. His prodigious exertions abroad and his incessant labours at home are known to every one. No sovereign ever underwent so much bodily fatigue. The most remarkable instance of the Emperor’s activity and exertion was his riding post from Valladolid to Burgos, (a distance of thirty-five Spanish leagues) in five hours and a half; that is to say, upwards of seven leagues an hour.[25] The Emperor had set out accompanied by a numerous escort, in case of danger from the Guerillas; but at every yard he left some of his company behind him, and he arrived at Burgos with but few followers. His ride from Vienna to the Simmering, a distance of eighteen or twenty leagues, is also frequently talked of. The Emperor rode to breakfast at the Simmering, and returned to Vienna immediately after. Napoleon often hunted to the distance of thirty-eight leagues, and never less than fifteen. One day a Russian officer, who had come as a courier from St. Petersburg in the space of twelve or thirteen days, arrived at Fontainebleau at the moment when the Emperor was about to set out on a hunt. By way of a rest, the officer had the honour to be invited to join the hunting-party. He of course accepted the invitation; but he dropped down in the forest, overcome by fatigue, and was not found until after considerable search had been made for him.

Footnote 25:

This may appear incredible. Indeed I myself feel doubts now when I read over the statement. But I know that when the subject was spoken of one day at dinner at Longwood, it underwent much discussion, and I noted down on paper what was then admitted to be the correct account. Besides, many individuals who accompanied the Emperor are still living: and the fact may be ascertained.

I have known the Emperor to be engaged in business in the Council of State for eight or nine hours successively, and afterwards rise with his ideas as clear as when he sat down. I have seen him at St. Helena peruse books for ten or twelve hours in succession, on the most abstruse subjects, without appearing in the least fatigued. He has suffered, unmoved, the greatest shocks that ever man experienced. On his return from Moscow or Leipsic, after he had communicated the disastrous event in the Council of State, he said:—“It has been reported in Paris that this misfortune turned my hair grey; but you see it is not so (pointing to his head); and I hope I shall be able to support many other reverses.” But these prodigious exertions are made only, as it were, in despite of his physical powers, which never appear less susceptible than when his mind is in full activity.

The Emperor eats very irregularly, but generally very little. He often says that a man may hurt himself by eating too much, but never by eating too little. He will remain four-and-twenty hours without eating, only to get an appetite for the ensuing day. But if he eats little, he drinks still less. A single glass of Madeira or Champaign is sufficient to restore his strength, and to produce cheerfulness of spirits. He sleeps very little and very irregularly, generally rising at daybreak to read or write, and afterwards lying down to sleep again.

The Emperor has no faith in medicine, and never takes any. He had adopted a peculiar mode of treatment for himself. Whenever he found himself unwell, his plan was to run into an extreme, the opposite of what happened to be his habit at the time. This he calls restoring the equilibrium of nature. If, for instance, he had been inactive for a length of time, he would suddenly ride about sixty miles, or hunt for a whole day. If, on the contrary, he had been harassed by great fatigues, he would resign himself to a state of absolute rest for twenty-four hours. These unexpected shocks infallibly brought about an internal crisis, and instantly produced the desired effect: this remedy, he observed, never failed.

The Emperor’s lymphatic system is deranged, and his blood circulates with difficulty. Nature, he said, had endowed him with two important advantages: the one was the power of sleeping whenever he needed repose, at any hour, and in any place; another was that he was incapable of committing any injurious excess either in eating or drinking. “If,” said he, “I go the least beyond my mark, my stomach instantly revolts.” He is subject to nausea from very slight causes; a mere tickling cough is sufficient to produce that effect on him.

OUR MODE OF LIVING AT BRIARS.—MY FIRST VISIT TO LONGWOOD.—INFERNAL MACHINE; ITS HISTORY.

26th—28th. On the 26th the Emperor dressed very early: he found himself quite recovered. He wished to walk out, as the weather was very fine; and, besides, his room had not been put in order for three days. We went into the garden, and he chose to breakfast under the arbour. He was in good spirits, and his conversation turned upon many different subjects and persons.

The Emperor’s health being now perfectly restored, he resumed his usual occupation, which, indeed, was his only source of amusement. Reading, dictating, and walking in the garden, filled up all his time during the day. He still occasionally resorted to his favourite path, though the turn of the season, and the change of the moon, had nearly put a stop to our evening walks. The numerous visitors who came to Mr. Balcombe’s house, attracted by the hope of meeting the Emperor, annoyed him very much, and, indeed, compelled him to withdraw himself altogether. We therefore remained shut up in our little dwelling. We at first understood that we should remain at Briars only a few days; but six weeks had passed away, and we had yet heard nothing respecting our removal. All this time the Emperor had been as much confined as he had been on board of the vessel. He had taken only one excursion, which was when he visited Major Hudson; and we afterwards learned that this circumstance had occasioned alarm. It had been whispered about at the Admiral’s ball, and had reached the ears of our high authorities, who were thrown into great consternation by the event.

The workmen continued their labours at Longwood, which was to be our new residence. The troops who had come with us from England were encamped in the neighbourhood. The Colonel gave a ball, to which we were invited. The Emperor wished me to go, and that I should, at the same time, take the opportunity of inspecting our future abode. I went with Madame Bertrand, in a carriage drawn by six oxen. In this Merovingian equipage we proceeded to Longwood. This was the first opportunity I had had of seeing any part of the island, except the neighbourhood of Briars. The whole road along which we passed presented continued evidences of a great natural convulsion. We saw nothing but huge masses of rock, totally destitute of vegetation. If, at every change of the horizon, we perceived a trace of verdure or a few clusters of trees, yet on a nearer approach, all vanished like the creations of a poet’s fancy; we found only a few marine plants and wild shrubs; or, what was still worse, some wretched gum-trees. These were the only ornaments of Longwood. I returned on horseback about six o’clock. The Emperor put many questions to me concerning our new residence. Finding that I did not speak of it very enthusiastically, he asked at once whether he should gain or lose by the change? I told him what I thought in one sentence. “Sire,” said I, “we are here in a cage; there we shall be in a fold.”

28th.—The Emperor changed his military uniform, which he had put on to go on board the Bellerophon, for a fancy dress coat. In the course of conversation this day the Emperor adverted to the numerous conspiracies which had been formed against him. The infernal machine was mentioned in its turn. This diabolical invention, which gave rise to so many conjectures, and caused the death of so many victims, was the work of the Royalists, who obtained the first idea of it from the Jacobins.

The Emperor stated that a hundred furious Jacobins, the real authors of the scenes of September, the 10th of August, &c., had resolved to get rid of the First Consul, for which purpose they invented a 15 or 16-pound howitzer, which, on being thrown into the carriage, would explode by its own concussion, and hurl destruction on every side. To make sure of their object, they proposed to lay chevaux de frise along a part of the road, which, by suddenly impeding the horses, would of course render it impossible for the carriage to move on. The man who was employed to lay down the chevaux de frise, entertaining some suspicions of the job which he had been set upon, as well as of the morality of his employers, communicated the business to the police. The conspirators were soon traced, and were apprehended near the Jardin des Plantes, in the act of trying the effect of the machine, which made a terrible explosion. The First Consul, whose policy it was not to divulge the numerous conspiracies of which he was the object, did not give publicity to this, but contented himself with imprisoning the criminals. He soon relaxed his orders for keeping them in close confinement, and they were allowed a certain degree of liberty. In the same prison in which these Jacobins were confined, some Royalists were also imprisoned for an attempt to assassinate the First Consul, by means of air-guns. These two

## parties formed a league together; and the Royalists transmitted to their

friends out of prison the idea of the infernal machine, as being preferable to any other plan of destruction.

It is very remarkable that, on the evening of the catastrophe, the Emperor expressed an extreme repugnance to go out. Madame Buonaparte and some intimate friends absolutely forced him to go to an Oratorio. They roused him from a sofa where he was fast asleep; one fetched him his sword, and another his hat. As he drove along in the carriage, he fell asleep again, and awoke suddenly, saying that he had dreamed he was drowning in the Tagliamento. To explain what he alluded to, it is necessary to mention that some years previously, when he was General of the army of Italy, he passed the Tagliamento in his carriage during the night, contrary to the advice of every one about him. In the ardour of youth, and heedless of every obstacle, he crossed the river surrounded by a hundred men armed with poles and torches. His carriage was, however, soon set afloat; Napoleon incurred the most imminent danger, and for some time gave himself up for lost. At the moment when he now awoke, on his way to the Oratorio, he was in the midst of a conflagration, the carriage was lifted up, and the passage of the Tagliamento came fresh upon his mind. The illusion, however, was but momentary; a dreadful explosion immediately ensued. “We are blown up!” exclaimed the First Consul to Lannes and Bessieres, who were in the carriage with him. They were for stopping the carriage, but the First Consul enjoined them not to do it on any account. He arrived safe, and appeared at the Opera as though nothing had happened. He was preserved by the desperate driving of his coachman. The machine injured only one or two individuals who closed the escort.

The most trivial circumstances often lead to the most important results. The coachman was intoxicated, and there is no doubt that this proved the means of saving the life of the First Consul. The man’s intoxication was so great that it was not until next morning he could be made to comprehend what had happened. He had taken the explosion for the firing of a salute. Immediately after this event, measures were adopted against the Jacobins, who had been convicted of meditating the crime: and a considerable number were banished. They, however, were not the real criminals, whose discovery was brought about by another very singular chance.