part I

have only to observe, that, in this instance, I merely noted down a current report, which was repeated without any ill design, and which had never been contradicted.

There were nearly five or six hundred men on board the brig in which Napoleon embarked; this was, he said, the crew of a seventy-four. They fell in with a French brig of war, which they spoke. It was asserted that the captain of the French brig recognised them, and at parting cried out three times, “A good voyage to you!” At all events, the officer who commanded the Emperor’s vessel, proposed to pursue and capture the brig. The Emperor rejected the idea as absurd; such a proceeding could only have been excusable, had necessity demanded it. “Why,” said he, “should I introduce this new incident into my plan? What advantage should I derive from its success? To what risks would its failure expose me!”

After the check they experienced on landing, by the capture of twenty men who had been sent to summon Antibes, a variety of opinions was advanced, and urged with some warmth. Some proposed that they should make immediately an attack and carry Antibes, in order to obviate the evil consequences which might ensue from the resistance of that place and the imprisonment of the twenty men. The Emperor replied that the taking of Antibes would be no step towards the conquest of France; that, during the brief interval that would be occupied in the execution of that project, a general alarm would be raised throughout the country; and that obstacles would be opposed to them in the only course which it was expedient they should pursue. He added that time was valuable; and that the ill consequences of the affair of Antibes might be effectually obviated by marching forward with sufficient speed to anticipate the news. An officer of the guard indirectly hinted that it was not right thus to abandon the twenty men who had been made prisoners; but the Emperor merely observed that he had formed a poor idea of the magnitude of the enterprise; that, if half of his followers were in the same situation, he would not scruple to abandon them in the same manner; and that if they were all made prisoners, he would march forward alone.[27]

Footnote 27:

It must not, however, be supposed that he shewed any unfeeling disregard of these men; for he directed the war commissioner, Charles Vautier, who was with him, to repair with all haste to Antibes, and to release the prisoners by attempting to take the garrison. When Vautier set out, he several times called after him: “Take care you do not get yourself made prisoner too.”

A few hours before nightfall he landed at the gulf of Juan, where he bivouacked. Soon after, a postilion in splendid livery was conducted to him. It turned out that this man had formerly been in the Imperial household. He had been a domestic of the Empress Josephine’s, and was now in the service of the Prince of Monaco, who himself had been equerry to the Empress. The postilion, on being questioned by the Emperor, informed him, after expressing his great astonishment at finding him there, that he had just come from Paris, and that he was sure he would every where be joyfully greeted. He affirmed that all along the road, as far as Avignon, he had heard nothing but regret for the Emperor’s absence; that his name was publicly in every mouth, and that, when once fairly through Provence, he would find the whole population ready to rally round him. The man added, that his splendid livery had frequently rendered him the object of odium and insult. This was the testimony of one of the common class of society: it was very gratifying to the Emperor, and entirely corresponded with his expectations. The Prince of Monaco himself, on being presented to Napoleon, was less explicit. Napoleon refrained from questioning him on political matters: there were persons present, and he did not wish to incur the risk of eliciting any detail which might create unfavourable impressions on those about him. The conversation therefore assumed a lively character, and turned entirely on the ladies of the Imperial court of the Tuileries, concerning whom Napoleon made the minutest inquiries.

As soon as the moon had risen, which was about one or two o’clock in the morning, the bivouack broke up, and Napoleon gave orders for proceeding to Grasse. There he expected to find a road which he had ordered during the Empire. However, the design had not been executed, and he was reduced to the necessity of passing through narrow defiles filled with snow. He therefore left behind him, in the charge of the municipality of Grasse, his carriage and two pieces of cannon, which had been brought ashore: this was termed a capture in the bulletins of the time.

The municipality of Grasse was devoted to the royalist party; but the sudden appearance of the Emperor afforded little time for hesitation, and they came to make their submission to him. The Emperor, having passed through the town, halted on a little height at some distance beyond it, where he breakfasted. He was soon surrounded by the whole population of the town: and went through this multitude as though he had been in the midst of his Court circle at the Tuileries. He heard the same sentiments and the same prayers as before he quitted France. One complained of not having received his pension, another solicited an addition to his allowance, a third represented that his cross of the legion of honour had been withheld from him, a fourth prayed for promotion, &c. A number of petitions had already been drawn up and were presented to him, just as though he had come from Paris, and was making a tour through the departments.

Some enthusiastic patriots, who were well acquainted with the state of affairs, secretly informed Napoleon that the authorities of the place were very hostile, but that the mass of the people were devoted to him, and that they only waited until his back should be turned, in order to rid themselves of the miscreants. “Be not too hasty,” said the Emperor. “Let them have the mortification of seeing our triumph, without having any thing to reproach us with. Be tranquil and prudent.”

The Emperor advanced with the rapidity of lightning. “Victory,” said he, “depended on my speed. To me France was in Grenoble. This place was an hundred leagues distant, but I and my companions reached it in five days,[28] and by what roads and what weather! I entered the city just as the Count d’Artois, warned by the telegraph, was quitting the Tuileries.”

Footnote 28:

March 1st. The Emperor landed at Cannes, at the Gulf of Juan.

2d. Entered Grasse.

3d. Slept at Barême.

4th. Dined at Digne, and slept at Maligeai.

5th. Slept at Gap.

6th. Slept at Corps, and a little beyond the town on the following day, the Emperor harangued and rallied the troops of the 5th. A few hours afterwards he was joined by Labédoyère, at the head of the 7th.

7th. Arrived at Grenoble and halted.

9th. Slept at Bourgouin.

10th. Reached Lyons, where he remained three days.

13th. Slept at Macon. Ney’s famous proclamation issued.

14th. Slept at Chalons.

15th. Slept at Autun.

16th. At Avalon.

17th. At Auxeres, where he remained for a day, and was joined by the Prince of the Moskowa.

20th. Arrived at Fontainebleau, at four in the morning, and entered the Tuileries at nine in the evening.

Napoleon himself was so perfectly convinced of the state of affairs, and of popular sentiment, that he knew his success in no way depended on the force which he might bring with him. A piquet of gendarmerie, he said, was all that was necessary. Every thing turned out as he had calculated: “Victory advanced _au pas de charge_, and the national Eagle flew from steeple to steeple, till at length it perched on the towers of Notre Dame.” The Emperor, however, admitted that at first he was not without some degree of alarm and uncertainty. As he advanced, it is true, the whole population enthusiastically declared themselves in his favour; but he saw no soldiers: they were all carefully removed from the places through which he passed. It was not until he was between Mure and Vizille, within five or six leagues of Grenoble, and on the fifth day after his embarkation, that he met the first battalion. The commanding officer refused even to parley. The Emperor, without hesitation, advanced alone, and one hundred of his grenadiers marched at some distance from him, with their arms reversed. The sight of Napoleon, his costume, and in particular his grey military great coat, produced a magical effect on the soldiers, and they stood motionless. Napoleon went straight up to a veteran, whose arm was covered with _chevrons_, and very unceremoniously seizing him by the whisker, asked him whether he would have the heart to kill his Emperor. The soldier, his eyes moistened with tears, immediately thrust the ramrod into his musquet, to shew that it was not loaded, and exclaimed, “See, I could not have done thee any harm: all the others are the same.” Cries of _Vive l’Empereur!_ resounded on every side. Napoleon ordered the battalion to make half a turn to the right, and all marched on to Paris.

At a little distance from Grenoble, Colonel Labédoyère, at the head of his regiment, came to join the Emperor. The impulse was then confirmed, and the question was nearly decided.

The peasantry of Dauphiny lined the road-sides: they were transported and mad with joy. The first battalion, which has just been alluded to, still shewed some signs of hesitation; but thousands crowded on its rear, and by their shouts of _Vive l’Empereur!_ endeavoured to urge the troops to decision; while others, who were in Napoleon’s rear, excited his little troop to advance, declaring that no harm whatever would be done to it.

In a valley through which they passed, a very affecting spectacle presented itself: many communes were assembled together, accompanied by their mayors and curates. Amidst the multitude was observed a handsome young man, a grenadier of the Guard, who had been missing since the time of Napoleon’s landing, and whose disappearance had given rise to suspicion. He now advanced and threw himself at the Emperor’s feet: the tears glistened in his eyes, and he supported in his arms an old man of ninety, whom he presented to the Emperor:—this was his father, in quest of whom he had set off as soon as he landed in France. The Emperor, after his arrival at the Tuileries, ordered a picture of this circumstance to be painted.

It was night when Napoleon arrived before the walls of Grenoble: his promptitude defeated all the measures that were to have been taken to oppose him. There was no time to cut down the bridges, nor even to put the troops in motion. He found the gates of the city closed, and the colonel commanding the fortress refused to open them. “A peculiar circumstance attending this extraordinary revolution,” said the Emperor, “was that the soldiers were not deficient, to a certain degree, in discipline and obedience to their commanding officers: their only resistance was by inert force, of which they availed themselves as of a right.” Thus the first battalion performed all the movements that were ordered, retired and refused to communicate; but the men did not load their guns, and they would not have fired. When Napoleon arrived before Grenoble, the whole garrison, assembled on the ramparts, shouted _Vive l’Empereur!_ They shook hands with Napoleon’s followers, through the wickets; but they would not open the gates, because the commander had forbidden them to do so. The Emperor found it necessary to force the gates; and this was done under the mouths of ten pieces of artillery on the ramparts, loaded with grape-shot. To complete this union of singular circumstances, the commander of the first battalion and the colonel, who had so openly opposed the Emperor, when asked by him whether he could depend on them, replied that he could;—that their troops had deserted them, but that they would never desert their troops; and that, since the men had declared themselves for Napoleon, they also would be faithful to him. The Emperor retained these officers in his service.

In none of his battles did Napoleon ever imagine himself to be in so much danger as at his entrance into Grenoble. The soldiers seemed to turn upon him with furious gestures; for a moment it might have been supposed that they were about to tear him in pieces. But these were merely transports of love and joy. The Emperor and his horse were both borne along by the multitude; and he had scarcely time to breathe in the inn where he alighted, when an increased tumult was heard in the streets: the inhabitants of Grenoble came to offer him the gates of the city, since they could not present him with the keys.

“Being once established in Grenoble,” said the Emperor, “and having attained a positive power, I could have maintained hostilities had it been necessary to do so.”

Napoleon, at this time, very much regretted not having got his proclamations printed at the Island of Elba; but of course this could not have been done without the risk of promulgating his secret designs. He dictated his proclamations on board the brig, where every man who could write was employed in copying them. It was found necessary to transcribe them over again during the Emperor’s march to Paris, that they might be circulated on the road, so eager was the demand for them. They were then very scarce, often incorrect and even illegible; and yet the necessity of promulgating them was felt at every step, for wherever they were read they produced an immediate and powerful sensation. The events of the last twenty years have contributed in a high degree to enlighten the mass of the people, for, notwithstanding the joy they felt at the Emperor’s return, they eagerly enquired what was his object. All were satisfied with the national sentiments contained in the proclamations; and the utmost joy was evinced when it was understood that Napoleon had brought no foreign troops with him. His advance had been so rapid and his movements so unexpected, that a thousand reports had been circulated respecting the amount and nature of his forces. It was said that he was accompanied by Neapolitans, Austrians, and even Turks.

From Grenoble to Paris, Napoleon may be said to have made a triumphal march. During the four days of his stay at Lyons, there were continually upwards of twenty thousand persons assembled before his windows, and their acclamations were incessant. It would never have been supposed that the Emperor had for a moment been separated from his subjects. He signed decrees, issued orders, reviewed troops, &c.; all military corps, all public bodies, all classes of the citizens, eagerly came forward to offer him their homage and demonstrate their attachment. Even the national horse guards, a corps composed of men who had shewn themselves most ardent in the Royalist cause, solicited the honour of forming his escort; but these were the only persons whom the Emperor treated with coldness. “Gentlemen,” said he, “I thank you for this offer of your services; but your conduct towards the Count d’Artois sufficiently proves how you would act by me, were fortune to forsake me. I will not subject you to this new trial.” On quitting Lyons, the Count d’Artois, it is said, found only one of the guards willing to follow him to Paris. The Emperor, whose heart was so keenly alive to every generous sentiment, on hearing of the fidelity of this volunteer, ordered the decoration of the legion of honour to be presented to him.

At Lyons, Napoleon issued orders, through the medium of proclamations, with all that precision, firmness, and confidence, which usually attend established and uninterrupted power. His conduct indicated no trace of the terrible reverses he had so lately sustained, or the great risks he had yet to encounter. If it were possible to mention every circumstance, that took place, I could relate a very pleasant private anecdote indicative of the calmness of mind evinced by Napoleon, during the great crisis which was about to change the face of France and to rouse all Europe.

As soon as the Emperor quitted Lyons, he wrote to inform Ney, who, with his army, was at Lons-le-Saunier, that he must immediately march with his forces to join him. Ney, amidst the general confusion, abandoned by his troops, confounded by the Emperor’s proclamations, the addresses of Dauphiny, and the defection of the garrison of Lyons, overpowered by the enthusiasm of the people of the surrounding provinces—Ney, the child of the Revolution, yielded to the general impulse, and issued his famous order of the day. But the recollection of the events of Fontainebleau induced him to write to the Emperor, informing him that, in his recent conduct he had been guided principally by a view to the interests of his country; and that, convinced he must have forfeited all claim to Napoleon’s confidence, he solicited permission to retire from the service. The Emperor again wrote, desiring that he would immediately come and join him, and that he would receive him as he had done the day after the battle of the Moscowa. Ney, on presenting himself before the Emperor, was much embarrassed; and repeated that, if he had lost his confidence, he asked for nothing but to be reduced to the rank of one of his grenadiers. “Certainly,” said the Emperor, “he had behaved very ill to me; but how could I forget his brilliant courage, and the many acts of heroism that had distinguished his past life! I rushed forward to embrace him, calling him the ‘_bravest of the brave_’—and from that moment we were reconciled.”

The Emperor went nearly post haste all the way from Lyons to Paris. He no where experienced opposition, and no fighting took place. Literally his presence produced merely a theatrical change of scene. His advanced guard was composed of the troops which happened to be before him on the road, and to which couriers were sent forward. Thus Napoleon entered Paris, escorted by the very troops who in the morning had been sent out to oppose him. A regiment posted at Montereau spontaneously crossed the bridge, repaired to Melun, and charged a party of the body guards who were stationed at the latter place: this circumstance, it is said, occasioned the sudden departure of the Royal family.

The Emperor frequently told us that, if he had chosen, he might have brought with him to Paris two millions of peasants. On his approach the people every where rose in a mass; and he often repeats that there were no conspirators excepting opinion.

On the day after Napoleon’s arrival at the Tuileries, some one having remarked to him that his life was a succession of prodigies, but that the last surpassed all the rest, I heard him say in reply, that his only merit, in this instance, consisted in having formed a just opinion of the state of affairs in France, and in having been able to penetrate into the hearts of Frenchmen. At another time he said to us, when conversing on this subject: “If I except Labédoyère, who flew to me with enthusiasm and affection, and another individual who freely rendered me important services, nearly all the other generals whom I met on my route evinced hesitation and uncertainty: they yielded only to the impulse of their troops, if indeed they did not manifest a hostile feeling towards me.

“It is now clear to every one,” said he, “that Ney quitted Paris quite devoted to the King, and that if he turned against him a few days afterwards, it was because he thought he could not do otherwise.

“I was so far from relying at all on Massena that, on my landing in France, I felt it necessary to get past him with all speed; and on my asking him some time after, at Paris, how he would have acted, had I not left Provence so precipitately as I did, he was frank enough to reply that he should feel some embarrassment in answering me; but that the course I had pursued was, at all events, the safest, and the best.

“Saint-Cyr found himself in danger by attempting to restrain the soldiers under his command.

“Soult confessed to me that he had conceived a sincere regard for the King, so much did he admire his government; and he would not return to my service until after the _Champ de Mai_.

“Macdonald never made his appearance, and the Duke of Belluno followed the King to Ghent. Thus,” said he, “if the Bourbons have reason to complain of the complete desertion of the soldiers and the people, they certainly have no right to reproach with infidelity the chiefs of the army, those pupils or even leaders of the Revolution, who, in spite of twenty-five years’ experience, proved themselves, in this instance, mere children in politics. They could neither be looked upon as emigrants nor patriots!”

Napoleon seemed instinctively attached to his grand principle of acting only on masses and by masses. Both at the commencement of the enterprise, and after his landing in France, he was repeatedly urged to treat with some of the authorities, but he constantly returned the same excellent answer: “If I still hold a place in the hearts of the people, I need concern myself but little about persons in authority, and if I could only rely on the latter, what service could they render me in opposing the great mass?”

The following fact will shew how little communication Napoleon had maintained with the capital. On the morning of his entry into Paris, after his return from the Isle of Elba, a hundred and fifty half-pay officers quitted St. Denis, where they had been stationed by the Princes, and marched to the capital, bringing with them four pieces of artillery. They were met on the road by some generals, who placed themselves at their head; and the little troop thus proceeded to the palace of the Tuileries, where they assembled together the heads of the different departments of the ministry, who all agreed to act in the name of the Emperor. Thus Paris was tranquilly governed that day by the torrent of opinion and the transport of private affections. None of the great partisans of the Emperor, none of his former ministers, having received any communication from him, dared sign an order, or assume any responsibility. The public papers would not have appeared next day but for the zeal of private individuals, who, spontaneously and without authority, filled them with expressions of the feelings by which they were animated, and with the statements of passing events. In the same manner Lavalette took possession of the post-office. Paris was that day without police and without government, and yet never did greater tranquillity prevail in the capital.

The Emperor entered the Tuileries about nine o’clock in the evening, with an escort of a hundred horse, just as if he had come from one of his country residences. On alighting, he was almost squeezed to death by a crowd of military officers and citizens, who thronged around him, and fairly carried him in their arms into his saloon. Here he found dinner ready, and he was just sitting down to table, when the officer who had been despatched in the morning to Vincennes to summon the fortress, arrived. He brought intelligence of the capitulation of the commandant, whose only conditions were, that he should receive a passport for himself and his family.

It is a very singular circumstance that, on the morning after the Emperor’s arrival at the Tuileries, while a messenger had gone out to procure a tri-coloured flag, one was found at the pavilion Marsan, during the search that was made, as a matter of prudence, through the palace. This flag was immediately hoisted. It was quite new, and larger than the usual size. No one could guess how it had got into the Tuileries, and for what purpose it had been intended.

In fact, the more light there is thrown on the subject, the more evident it must be that there was no other conspiracy than that of the nature of things. Party-spirit alone can seek in the present age to raise a doubt on this point; history will have none.

[Illustration:

THE RETURN FROM ELBA.

London: Published for HENRY COLBURN, December, 1835. ]

A few days after Napoleon’s removal to Longwood, his return from Elba became the subject of conversation among the officers who were presented to him, when one of them observed that that astonishing event presented to the eyes of Europe the contrast of all that was most feeble and most sublime, the Bourbons abandoning a monarchy, and flying on the approach of a single man, who by his own individual efforts boldly undertook the conquest of an empire. “Sir,” said the Emperor, “are mistaken, you have taken a wrong view of the matter. The Bourbons were not wanting in courage; they did all they could. The Count d’Artois flew to Lyons; the Duchess d’Angoulême proved herself an amazon in Bourdeaux, and the Duke d’Angoulême offered as much resistance as he could. If, in spite of all this, they could attain no satisfactory object, the fault must not be attributed to them, but to the force of circumstances. The Bourbons, individually, could do no more than they really did; the contagion had spread in every direction.”

POEM OF CHARLEMAGNE.—THE BROTHERS AND SISTERS OF THE EMPEROR WHO HAVE BECOME AUTHORS.

15th.—To-day the Emperor took advantage of a short, interval of fine weather to walk to the Company’s garden. I was alone with him, I made certain representations to him, after which, I ventured to suggest some ideas, but he rejected them as absurd. “Go, my dear Las Cases,” said he; “you are a _simpleton_. But be not offended at the epithet,” he added, “I do not apply it to every one; with me it is nearly synonymous with an honest man.”

After dinner, the Emperor attempted to read a part of the poem of Charlemagne, which he had taken up yesterday evening, and again laid aside. This evening, like the two preceding, was divided between Charlemagne and Homer. The latter the Emperor said he read for the sake of recruiting his spirits, and he again resumed his censure of Prince Lucien, and his admiration of Homer.

Some one present informed the Emperor that Lucien had ready for the press another poem, similar to his Charlemagne, to be entitled “Charles Martel in Corsica.” It was added that he had likewise written a dozen tragedies. “Why, the devil’s in him,” exclaimed the Emperor.

He was then informed that his brother Louis was the author of a novel. “His work may possess spirit and grace,” said he, “but it will not be without a mixture of sentimental metaphysics, and philosophic absurdity.”

It was mentioned that Princess Eliza had likewise written a novel, and that even Princess Pauline had produced something in literature. “Yes,” said the Emperor, “as a heroine perhaps, but not as an authoress. At that rate,” continued he “all my brothers and sisters must be authors, except Caroline. The latter, indeed, in her childhood was regarded as the fool and the Cinderella of the family; but she grew up to be a very beautiful and a very clever woman.”

WANT OF PROVISIONS.—GAY SOPHISTRY.—ON IMPOSSIBILITIES.

16th.—In the morning, my servant came to tell me that there was neither coffee, sugar, milk, nor bread, for breakfast. Yesterday, some hours before dinner, feeling hungry, I asked for a mouthful of bread, and was told that there was none for me. Thus we are denied the very necessaries of life. This fact will scarcely be credited, and yet I have stated nothing but the truth.

The weather has now become fine. For some time the Emperor has been unable to walk out; but to-day he went into the garden, and he afterwards ordered the calash, with the intention of taking his usual drive, which had been so long suspended. As we were walking about, Madame de Montholon drove away a dog that had come near her.—“You do not like dogs, Madam?” said the Emperor,—“No, Sire.”—“If you do not like dogs, you do not like fidelity; you do not like those who are attached to you; and, therefore, you are not faithful.”—“But ... but....” said she—“But ... but....” repeated the Emperor, “where is the error of my logic? Refute my arguments if you can!”

One of the suite having a few days ago proposed making some chemical experiments, the Emperor enquired whether he had been successful. The other complained of not having the necessary apparatus. “A true child of the Seine,” said Napoleon, “an absolute Parisian cockney! Do you think you are still at the Tuileries? True industry does not consist in executing by known and given means; the proof of art and genius is to accomplish an object in spite of difficulties, and to find little or no _impossibility_. But what do you complain of? The want of a pestle, when the bar of any chair might answer your purpose? The want of a mortar? Any thing is a mortar that you choose to convert to that use; this table is a mortar; any pot or kettle is a mortar. Do you think you are still in the Rue Saint-Honoré, amidst all the shops in Paris?”

The Grand Marshal here remarked that this circumstance reminded him of something that had occurred the first time he had the honour of being presented to Napoleon, and of the first words he had received from him. When Bertrand was about to leave the army of Italy, to proceed on a mission to Constantinople, the young General, perceiving that he was an officer of engineers, gave him a commission relative to that department. “On my return,” said Bertrand, “I came up with you at a short distance from head quarters, and I informed you that I had found the thing impossible. On this your Majesty, whom I had addressed with great diffidence, said with the most familiar air—‘But let us see how you set to work, Sir: that which you found impossible may not be so to me.’ Accordingly,” continued Bertrand, “when I mentioned the means by which I had proposed to execute what your Majesty wished, you immediately substituted others. In a few moments I was perfectly convinced of the superiority of your Majesty’s plans; and this circumstance furnished me with sentiments and recollections which have since proved very useful to me.”

The Emperor retired to rest early. We observed that he is very much altered in his looks, particularly since his last illness. He grows very weak, and feels fatigued after two turns round the garden.

STATISTICAL CALCULATION.—POPULATION OF THE ISRAELITES IN EGYPT.

17th—18th. The fine weather has now completely set in. The Emperor went into the garden, attended by all his suite. After walking about for a short time, he proceeded to the wood.

On his return from his walk, we all breakfasted together under the tent; and, the weather being very favourable, the Emperor expressed his wish to take a drive in the calash.

About five o’clock, he desired me to attend him in his closet, to assist in searching for some documents on the interior of Africa, bordering upon Egypt. This is a point on which he has been engaged for some days past, as he intends to make it the subject of some chapters in his Campaign of Egypt.

He complained of being unwell, and desired me to order some tea for him. This was something extraordinary. The Grand Marshal soon after came to take my place in writing from his dictation.

After dinner, the Emperor was engaged with the pen in his hand, in investigating the comparative production of the soils of Egypt and France. He found the production of France to be greatly inferior to that of Egypt. This calculation was made from Peuchet’s “Statistical Surveys of France.” The Emperor was satisfied with the result at which he had arrived; it corresponded with the opinion he had previously formed. This naturally gave rise to the consideration of several other subjects; for instance, what was the probable and possible population of Egypt in ancient times?—what might have been the population of the Israelites, if, during the short period that they remained in captivity, they had increased to the degree mentioned in Scripture? &c. The Emperor desired me to present to him next day something on this latter subject. A great deal was said on the probabilities of human life, the tables of which were also found in Peuchet’s work; and on this subject the Emperor made some very ingenious, novel, and striking remarks.

I presented to the Emperor the calculation I had made on the problem which he had given to me the preceding day. The result surprised him not a little; and it furnished a subject for considerable discussion. The following is the substance of what I presented to him.

The Israelites remained two hundred years in Egypt, during which time we may calculate ten generations. They married early, and their marriages were very fruitful. I supposed the children of Jacob, the twelve chiefs of tribes, to be all married; I also supposed each of them to have had the same number of children, or six couples, and so on in succession. The tenth generation would then have amounted to 2,480,064,704 persons. But the ninth generation and even the eighth was still in existence. Hence what an awful number of figures. At any rate, let an ample deduction be made from the number of children, for the mortality occasioned by accidents, disease, &c., and still it is very certain that no calculation can be brought forward to contradict the account of Moses. The Emperor amused himself for a considerable time in detecting and shewing the errors of my reasoning.

During dinner, he exercised himself in English, by asking my son questions in that language, in history and geometry. After dinner the Emperor took up the Odyssey, the reading of which afforded a treat to us all.

THE EMPEROR ALTERS VISIBLY, AND LOSES HIS STRENGTH.—SALE OF HIS PLATE.

19th.—Napoleon spent the morning in collecting information on the sources of the Nile, from the works of several modern authors, Bruce, &c.... I assisted him in this labour. At three o’clock, he dressed and went out. The weather was tolerably fine. He ordered the calash, and then went into the wood on foot, and we walked till we came within sight of the Signal Hill. He conversed with me on our moral position, and the vexations which even circumstances arising from our intimacy with him could not fail to cause him. The calash came up with us, and Monsieur and Madame Montholon were in it. The Emperor was very glad of this, as he said he did not feel strong enough to walk back to the house. He evidently grows feeble, his step becomes heavy and lagging, and his features alter. His resemblance to his brother Joseph is now striking; so much so, that, on going to meet him the other day in the garden, I could have sworn it was Joseph, until the very moment when I came close to him. Others have remarked the likeness, as well as myself; and we have often said, that, if we believed in the _second sight_ of the Scotch Highlanders, we should be inclined to expect that something extraordinary would happen to Joseph or to the Emperor.

On our return, the Emperor examined a large basket full of broken plate, which was to be sent next day to the town. This was to be for the future the indispensable complement for our monthly subsistence, in consequence of the late retrenchments of the Governor.

We knew that captains in the East India Company’s service had offered as much as a hundred guineas for a single plate. This circumstance induced the Emperor to order the arms to be erased and the pieces to be broken, so as to leave no trace of the plate having belonged to him. All the dish covers were topped with small massive eagles; these were the only things he wished to save, and he had them put by. These last fragments were the objects of the wishes of every one of us; we looked upon them as relics. There was something religious, and at the same time mournful, in this feeling.

When the moment came for breaking up this plate, it had produced a most painful emotion and real grief amongst the servants. They could not without the greatest reluctance, bring themselves to apply the hammer to these objects of their veneration. This act upset all their ideas; it was to them a sacrilege, a desolation. Some of them shed tears on the occasion. After dinner, the Emperor continued the Odyssey, and afterwards read some passages of Esmenard’s poem, “La Navigation,” which he was pleased with.

FRESH VEXATION FROM THE GOVERNOR.—TOPOGRAPHY OF ITALY.

20th.—The Emperor sent to wake me before eight o’clock, desiring that I should join him with the calash in the wood, where he was already walking with M. de Montholon, conversing about the household expenses of the establishment. The weather had at last become fine once more, it was like a delightful spring morning. We took two turns.

We have experienced to-day a fresh and inconceivable vexation from the Governor. He has forbidden us to sell our plate, when broken up, to any other person than the one he should appoint. What can have been his intention in committing this new act of injustice? To make himself more obnoxious, and to give another instance of the abuse of authority.

The Emperor breakfasted under the tent; immediately afterwards, he dictated the account of the Battle of Marengo to General Gourgaud. He bade me remain with them and listen. About twelve o’clock he retired to his apartment to endeavour to rest himself.

Towards three o’clock, the Emperor came into my room again. He found my son and myself engaged in comparing and looking over the account of the Battle of Arcole. He knew that it was my favourite chapter, and that I called it a canto of the Iliad. He wished to read it again, and expressed himself also pleased with it.

The perusal of this account of Arcole awakened the Emperor’s ideas respecting what he called “that beautiful theatre, Italy.” He ordered us to follow him into the drawing-room, where he dictated to us for several hours. He had caused his immense map of Italy, which covered the greatest part of the drawing-room, to be spread open on the floor, and having laid himself down upon it, he went over it on his hands and his knees, with a compass and a red pencil in his hand, comparing and measuring the distance with a long piece of string, of which one of us held one of the ends. “It is thus,” said he to me, laughing at the posture in which I saw him, “that a country should be measured in order to form a correct idea of it, and lay down a good plan of a campaign.”

THE CELEBRATED BILLS OF ST. DOMINGO.—INSPECTORS OF THE REVIEWS, &C.—PLANS OF ADMINISTRATION, &C.—GAUDIN, MOLLIEN, DEFERMONT, LACUEE, &C.—MINISTER OF THE TREASURY.—MINISTER SECRETARY OF STATE.—IMPORTANCE OF THEIR FUNCTIONS.

21st.—Admiral Malcolm called upon me to-day. He came to take leave of us all; he was to sail the next day for the Cape, and would be two months absent.

We are sorry to lose the Admiral; his manners, always polite, and a kind of tacit sympathy existing between us, contrast him continually in our mind with Sir Hudson Lowe, who is so unlike him.

The Admiral had seen the Emperor, who is also partial to him. They had taken together some turns in the garden, and the Admiral told me had collected some excellent information respecting the Scheldt and the Nievendip, a maritime establishment in Holland which was entirely unknown to him, and which was founded by Napoleon.

After dinner, the conversation turned upon what the Emperor termed the celebrated bills of St. Domingo. It gave rise to the following curious details.—“The administrator of St. Domingo,” said the Emperor, “took it into his head one day to draw from the Cape, without authority, for the sum of sixty millions, in bills, on the treasury in Paris, which bills were all payable on the same day. France was not then, and had, perhaps, never been, rich enough to meet such a demand. Besides, where and by what means had the administration of St. Domingo acquired such a credit? The First Consul could not command any thing like it in Paris; it was as much as M. Necker could have done at the time of his greatest popularity. Be that as it may, when these bills appeared in Paris, where they arrived before the letters of advice, the First Consul was applied to from the treasury, to point out what was to be done. ‘Wait for the letters of advice,’ said he, ‘in order to learn the nature of the transaction. The treasury is like a capitalist; it possesses the same rights, and should follow the same course. These bills are not accepted, they are, consequently, not payable.’ However, the necessary information, and the vouchers, arrived. These bills stated value received, but the receipts of the officers in charge of the chest, into whose hands the money had been paid, were for only one tenth, one fifth, one third of the amount of the respective bills. The treasury, therefore, would only acknowledge and refund the sum really and _bona fide_ paid; and the bills in their tenour were declared to be false. This raised a great clamour, and produced a terrible agitation amongst the merchants. A deputation waited upon the First Consul, who, far from endeavouring to avoid it, opened the business at once, and asked ‘whether they took him for a child, whether they thought he would sport thus with the purest blood of the people, or that he was so indifferent a guardian of the public interest? What he refused to give up,’ he said, ‘did not affect him personally, did not trench upon his civil list, but it was public property, of which he was the guardian, and which was the more sacred in his eyes on that account.’ Then, addressing the two persons at the head of the deputation, he said: ‘You, gentlemen, who are merchants, bankers, men of business, give me a positive answer. If one of your agents abroad were to draw upon you for very large sums contrary to your expectations and to your interests, would you accept, would you pay his bills?’ They were obliged to admit they would not. ‘Then,’ said the First Consul, ‘you, who are simple proprietors, and in the right of your majority responsible for your own actions only, you would wish to possess a right which you refuse to allow to me, proprietor in the name of all, and who am in that quality always a minor and subject to revision! No, gentlemen, I shall enjoy your privileges in the name and for the benefit of all; the actual amount received for your bills shall be repaid you and no more. I do not ask the merchants to take the bills of my agents: it is an honour, a mark of credit, to which I do not aspire; if the merchants do take them, it must be at their own risk and peril; I only acknowledge and consider as sacred the acceptance of my Minister of the Treasury.’ Upon this they again expostulated, and a great deal of idle talk ensued. They should be obliged, they said, to declare themselves bankrupts; they had received these bills, for ready money; their agents abroad had committed the error of taking them, through respect for, and confidence in, the government. ‘Very well,’ said the First Consul, ‘become bankrupts. But they did not,’ observed the Emperor, ‘they had not received these bills for ready money, and their agents had not committed any error.’

“The members of the deputation left the First Consul, convinced in their own minds of the validity of his reasons; nevertheless, they filled Paris with their clamours and with falsehoods, misrepresenting the affair altogether.

“This transaction,” said the Emperor, “and its details, explain many other transactions which have been much spoken of in Paris under the Imperial administration.

“The commercial world had particularly said, and repeated, that this proceeding was unexampled; that such a violation of credit was a thing hitherto unheard of; but to that the First Consul replied that he would set the question at rest by quoting precedents, and he recalled to their minds the Bills of Louis XIV., the liquidations of the Regent, the Mississippi Company, the liquidations of the wars of 1763 and of 1782, &c.; and proved to them that what they contended to be a thing unexampled had been the constant practice of the monarchy.”

From this affair the Emperor turned to different branches of the administration. He defended the institution of the post of Inspectors of Reviews. “It was only through them that the actual number of men present could be ascertained; through them alone had this advantage been obtained, and it was one of immense importance in the active operations of war. And these inspectors were not less useful in an administrative point of view; for, whatever trifling abuses might exist in the details, and however numerous these abuses might be, it is on a general principle that such things should be considered; and, in order to estimate fairly the utility of this institution, it should be asked what other abuses would have taken place if it had not existed? For myself,” said Napoleon, “I must say that, checking the expenditure, by trying how much the total number of troops ought to have cost according to their fixed rates of pay, I have always found the sum paid by the treasury to fall short of my estimate. The army, therefore, cost less than it ought to have cost: what result more beneficial could be required?”

The Emperor quoted the administration of the navy as having been the most regular and the most honest; it had become a master-piece. “In that,” said he, “consisted the great merit of Decrès.” The Emperor considered that France was too large to have only one minister for the administration of the war department. “It was,” he said, “a task beyond the powers of one man. Paris had been made the centre of all decisions, contracts, supplies, and organizations; whilst the correspondents of the minister had been subdivided amongst a number of persons equal to the number of regiments and corps. The contrary ought to have been the case; the correspondences should have been entered, and the resources subdivided, by raising them on the spot where they were required. I had long meditated a plan to establish in France twenty or twenty-five military districts, which would have composed so many armies. There would have been no more than that number of accountants; these would have been twenty under-ministers; it would have been necessary to find twenty honest men. The minister would have had only twenty correspondents; he would have centralised the whole and made the machine move with rapidity.

“Messieurs Gaudin and Mollien,” said the Emperor, “were of opinion that it was necessary that the receivers-general, public financiers and contractors, should have very large fortunes, that they should have it in their power to make considerable profits, and openly avow them, in such a manner as to retain a degree of consideration which they might be careful not to endanger; and a character of honour, which they might be anxious not to compromise. This could not be otherwise,” he said, “in order to obtain from them support, service, and credit, in case of need.

“Another set of men, Defermont, Lacuée, and Marbois, thought, on the contrary, that it was impossible to be too watchful, too economical, and too strict. For my own part, I was inclined to be of the opinion of the first, considering the views of the last to be narrow, and such as were applicable to a regiment, but not to an army; to the expenses of a private household, but not to the expenditure of a great empire. I called them the Puritans and the Jansenists of the profession.”

The Emperor observed that the minister of the treasury, and the minister secretary of state, were two of his institutions on which he most congratulated himself, and from which he had derived the greatest assistance. “The minister of the treasury concentrated all the resources, and controlled all the expenses of the empire. From the minister secretary of state all acts emanated. He was the minister of ministers, imparting life to all intermediate acts; the grand notary of the empire, signing and authenticating all documents. Through the first I knew, at every moment, the state of my affairs; and through the second I made known my decisions and my will in all directions and every where. So that, with my minister of the treasury and my minister secretary of state alone, and half-a-dozen clerks, I would have undertaken to govern the empire from the remotest parts of Illyria, or from the banks of the Niemen, with as much facility as in my capital.”

The Emperor could not conceive how affairs could go on with the four or five secretaries of state of our kings. “And, indeed, how did they go on?” said he. “Each imagined, executed, and controlled his own operations. They might act in direct opposition one to another; for as the kings only affixed their sign on the margin of the plans proposed, or authenticated only the rough draft of their ordinances, the secretaries of state could fill them up, or act as they pleased, without fear of any great responsibility. Add to this that the secretaries of state had the _griffe_[29], a contrivance, which they wanted to make me adopt, but which I rejected as a tool appropriated to the _Rois faineans_. Amongst these ministers, some might have money for which they had no employment, and others might be unable to proceed for want of a farthing. There was no common centre to combine their movements, provide for their wants, and direct the execution of their measures.”

Footnote 29:

A kind of seal on which a signature is engraved.

The Emperor said that a minister secretary of state was exactly suited for kings without talents, but vain, who would want the assistance of a prime minister and not like to own it. “Had my minister secretary of state been made president of the council of state,” said he, “he would have been from that moment a real prime minister, in the fullest acceptation of the term; for he would have carried his plans to the council of state to have them digested into laws, and would have signed for the Prince. There can be no doubt that, with the manners and habits of the first race of our kings, or with princes like them, my minister secretary of state would have become in a very short time a Mayor of the Palace.”

REVISION OF THE CHAPTERS ON THE ARMY OF ITALY.

22d.—The Emperor resumed his researches respecting Egypt. He gave me Strabo to look over; it was the edition which he had caused to be made. He commended the care and pains bestowed upon it, and said that it had been his intention to give us, in course of time, editions of all the works of the ancients, through the official medium of the Institute.—Before dinner the Emperor sent for me and my son, and spent at least six hours with us, reading over and recasting the chapters on the Tagliamento, Leoben, and Venice.

All is fine in these chapters on the Campaign of Italy. In that on the Tagliamento, we see how one single disposition, made on the banks of that river and hardly noticed, one of those movements which the Emperor calls _the thought of the battle_, must inevitably lead to the gates of Vienna.

The chapter on Venice is written after the manner of the ancients. However, the last chapter read always seems to be that which pleases most.

I was extremely unwell and very tired, not so much from fatigue occasioned by work, as from bodily indisposition. We amused ourselves this evening by reading the description of Ulysses’ departure from the Island of Calypso, and his arrival amongst the Pheacians.

ON SENSIBILITY.—ON THE INHABITANTS OF THE EAST AND WEST; DIFFERENCES OBSERVABLE BETWEEN THEM, &C.

23d.—This morning the Emperor, conversing in his room, after touching on several subjects, spoke about sentiment, feelings, and sensibility, and having alluded to one of us who, as he observed, never pronounced the name of his mother but with tears in his eyes, he said, “But is this not peculiar to him? Is this a general feeling? Do you experience the same thing, or am I unnatural in that respect? I certainly love my mother with all my heart; there is nothing that I would not do for her, yet if I were to hear of her death, I do not think that my grief would manifest itself by even a single tear; but I would not affirm that this would be the case if I were to lose a friend, or my wife, or my son. Is this distinction founded on nature? What can be the cause of it? Is it that my reason has prepared me beforehand to expect the death of my mother, as being in the natural course of events, whereas the loss of my wife, or of my son, is an unexpected occurrence, a hardship inflicted by fate, which I endeavour to struggle against? Perhaps also this distinction merely proceeds from our natural disposition to egotism. I belong to my mother, but my wife and my son belong to me.” And he went on multiplying the reasons in support of his opinion, with his usual fertility of invention, in which there was always something original and striking.

It is certain that he was tenderly attached to his wife and his son. Those persons who have served in the interior of his household now inform us how fond he was of indulging his feelings of affection towards his family; and point out some shades in his disposition, the existence of which we were far from suspecting at the time.

He would sometimes take his son in his arms, and embrace him with the most ardent demonstrations of paternal love. But most frequently his affection would manifest itself by playful teazing or whimsical tricks. If he met his son in the gardens, for instance, he would throw him down or upset his toys. The child was brought to him every morning at breakfast time, and he then seldom failed to besmear him with every thing within his reach on the table. With respect to his wife, not a day passed here without his introducing her into his private conversations; if they lasted any length of time, she was sure to come in for a share in them, or to become the exclusive subject of them. There is no circumstance, no minute particular relating to her, which he has not repeated to me a hundred times. Penelope, after ten years’ absence, in order to convince herself that she is not deceived, puts some questions to Ulysses which he alone could answer. Well! I think that I should not find it difficult to present my credentials to Maria-Louisa.

In the course of the conversation in the evening, the Emperor, speaking of different nations, said he knew of only two,—the Orientals and the people of the West. “The English, the French, the Italians, &c.” said he, “compose one family, and form the western division; they have the same laws, the same manners, the same customs; and differ entirely from the Orientals, particularly with respect to their women and their servants. The Orientals have slaves; our servants are free: the Orientals shut up their women; our wives share in all our rights: the Orientals keep a seraglio, but polygamy has never been admitted in the West at any period. There are several other distinctions,” said the Emperor; “it is said that as many as eighty have been reckoned. The inhabitants of the East and of the West are therefore,” observed the Emperor, “really two distinct nations:—with the Orientals every thing is calculated to enable them to watch over their wives and make sure of them; all our institutions in the West tend, on the contrary, to put it out of our power to watch over ours, and to make it necessary for us to rely upon them alone. With us, every man who does not wish to pass for an idiot must have some occupation; and whilst he is attending to his business, or fulfilling the duties of his situation, who will watch for him? We must therefore, with our manners, rely entirely on the honour of our women, and place implicit confidence in them. For my part,” added he good-humouredly, “I have had both wives and mistresses; but it never came into my head to use any particular precaution to watch over them, because I thought that it was with these things as with the fear of daggers and poison in certain situations of life; the torment of guarding against them is greater than the danger we wish to avoid: it is better to trust to one’s fate.

“It is, however, a very knotty question to decide, which is the best method, ours or that of the Orientals; though, probably, not for you, ladies,” said he, casting an arch-look upon those who were present. “Yet it is certain that it would be a very great error to suppose that the Orientals have fewer enjoyments than we have, and are less happy than we are in the West. In the East, the husbands are very fond of their wives, and the wives are very much attached to their husbands. They have as many chances of happiness as we have, however different they may seem; for every thing is conventional amongst men, even in those feelings which, one would suppose, ought to be dictated by Nature alone. Besides, the women in the East have their rights and privileges, as ours have theirs: it would be quite as impossible to prevent them from going to the public bath, as it would be to prevent our women from going to church; and both abuse that liberty. You see, therefore, that the imagination, feelings, virtues, and failings of human nature, are circumscribed within a very narrow compass; and that the same things, with few exceptions and differences, are to be found everywhere.”

He then proceeded to account for, or to justify, polygamy among the Orientals in a very ingenious manner. “It never existed,” he said, “in the West: the Greeks, the Romans, the Gauls, the Germans, the Spaniards, the Britons, never had more than one wife. In the East, on the other hand, polygamy has existed in all ages: the Jews, the Assyrians, the Tartars, the Persians, the Turcomans, had all of them several wives. Whence could this universal and invariable difference have arisen? Was it owing to accident and to mere caprice? Did it depend on physical causes in individuals? No. Were woman less numerous, in proportion, among us than in Asia? No. Were they more numerous in the East than the men? No. Were the latter of superior stature, to us, or differently constituted? No. The fact is that the legislator, or that wisdom from on high which supplies his place, must have been guided by the force of circumstances arising from the respective localities. All the people of the West have the same form, the same colour; they compose but one nation, one family: it has been possible, as at the moment of the Creation, to assign to them but one helpmate—happy, admirable, beneficent law, which purifies the heart of the man, exalts the condition of the woman, and assures to both a multitude of moral enjoyments!

“The Orientals, on the other hand, differ from one another as much as day and night, in their forms and colours: they are white, black, copper-coloured, mixed, &c. The first thing to be thought of was their conservation, to establish a consanguineous fraternity among them, without which they would have been everlastingly persecuting, oppressing, exterminating one another: this could only be accomplished by the institution of polygamy, and by enabling them to have at one and the same time a white, black, mulatto, and copper-coloured wife. The different colours now constituting part of one and the same family, thus became blended in the affections of the chief and in the opinions of each of the females relatively to the others.

“Mahomet,” he added, “seems to have been acquainted with the secret, and to have been guided by it: otherwise how happened it that he, who treads so closely in the steps of Christianity, and deviates from it so little, did not suppress polygamy? Do you reply that he retained it only because his religion was wholly sensual? In this case, he would have allowed the Mussulmans an indefinite number of wives, whereas he limited it to four only, which would seem to imply a black, a white, a copper-coloured, and a mixed.

Besides, let it not be supposed that this favour of the law was put in practice for the whole nation; or there would not have been wives for them all. In fact, eleven twelfths of the population have but one, because they cannot maintain more, but polygamy in the chiefs is sufficient to attain the grand object: for, the confusion of races and of colours existing, by means of polygamy, in the higher class, it is enough to establish union and perfect equality among all. We must, therefore admit,” he concluded, “that if polygamy was not the offspring of a political combination, if it owed its origin to chance alone, that chance has in this instance, produced as much as consummate wisdom.”

The Emperor said that he had seriously thought of applying this principle to our colonies, in order to harmonize the welfare of the Negroes with the necessity for employing them. He had even, he said, consulted divines on this subject, to ascertain if there were not means, considering local circumstances, of reconciling our religious notions with this practice.

The Emperor continued conversing in this manner until after midnight.

ON HOLLAND AND KING LOUIS.—COMPLAINTS OF THE EMPEROR AGAINST THE MEMBERS OF HIS FAMILY.—MATTERS OF HIGH POLICE, &C.—LETTER TO KING LOUIS, THE EMPEROR’S BROTHER.

24th.—The Emperor sent for me at about half-past twelve to his closet. Our conversation turned upon the succession of authors through which the light of history has been transmitted to us from the remotest antiquity down to the present time. This led him to read that part of the first table of the Historical Atlas which gives a recapitulation of them, and presents the whole at one view.

The conversation turned on the diversities of the human species. The Emperor sent for Buffon, to throw light upon the question; and continued for some time employed in seeking information on the subject.

Having dressed, the Emperor sent for my son, and we worked three or four hours at the chapters of the Campaign of Italy.

When this was completed, the conversation, through a variety of subjects, turned upon Holland and King Louis, respecting whom he said some things worthy of observation.

“Louis is not destitute of intelligence,” said the Emperor, “and has a good heart; but even with these qualifications a man may commit many errors, and do a great deal of mischief. Louis is naturally inclined to be capricious and fantastical, and the works of Jean Jaques Rousseau have contributed to increase this disposition. Seeking to obtain a reputation for sensibility and beneficence, incapable by himself of enlarged views, and, at most, competent to local details, Louis acted like a Prefect rather than a king.

“No sooner had he arrived in Holland, than, fancying that nothing could be finer than to have it said that he was thenceforth a true Dutchman, he attached himself entirely to the party favourable to the English, promoted smuggling, and thus connived with our enemies. It became necessary from that moment to watch over him, and even to threaten to attack him. Louis, then, seeking a refuge against the weakness of his disposition in the most stubborn obstinacy, and mistaking a public scandal for an act of glory, fled from his throne, declaiming against me and against my insatiable ambition, my intolerable tyranny. What then remained for me to do? Was I to abandon Holland to our enemies? Ought I to have given it another King? But in that case could I have expected more from him than from my own brother? Did not all the kings that I created act nearly in the same manner? I therefore united Holland to the empire; and this act produced a most unfavourable impression in Europe, and contributed not a little to pave the way to our misfortunes.

“Louis was delighted to take Lucien as his model: Lucien had acted nearly in the same manner; and if, at a later period, he has repented, and has even nobly made amends for his errors, this conduct did honour to his character, but could not produce any favourable change in our affairs.

“On my return from Elba in 1815, Louis wrote a long letter to me from Rome, and sent an ambassador to me. It was his treaty, he said, the conditions upon which he would return to me. I answered that I would not make any treaty with him, that he was my brother, and that if he came back he would be well received.

“Will it be believed that one of his conditions was that he should be at liberty to divorce Hortense! I severely rebuked the negotiator for having dared to be the bearer of so absurd a proposal, and for having believed that such a measure could ever be made the subject of a negotiation. I reminded Louis that our family compact positively forbade it, and represented to him that it was not less forbidden by policy, morality, and public opinion. I farther assured him that, actuated by all these motives, if his children were to lose their state through his fault, I should feel more interested for them than for him, although he was my brother.

“Perhaps an excuse might be found for the caprice of Louis’s disposition in the deplorable state of his health, the age at which it became deranged, and the horrible circumstances which produced that derangement, and which must have had a considerable influence upon his mind; he was on the point of death on the occasion, and has, ever since, been subject to most cruel infirmities: he is almost paralytic on one side.

“It is certain, however,” added the Emperor, “that I have derived little assistance from my own family, and that they have severely injured me and the great cause. The energy of my disposition has often been extolled; but I have been a mere milksop, particularly with my family; and well they knew it after the first moment of anger was over, they always carried their point by perseverance and obstinacy. I became tired of the contest, and they did with me just as they pleased. These are great errors which I have committed. If, instead of this, each of them had given a common impulse to the different bodies which I placed under their direction, we should have marched on to the poles; every thing would have given way before us; we should have changed the face of the world; Europe would now enjoy the advantages of a new system, and we should have received the benedictions of mankind! I have not been so fortunate as Gengis Khan, with his four sons, each of whom rivalled the other in zeal for his service. No sooner had I made a man a king, than he thought himself king _by the grace of God_, so contagious is the use of the expression. He was then no longer a lieutenant, on whom I could rely, but another enemy whom I was obliged to guard against. His efforts were not directed towards seconding me, but towards rendering himself independent. They all immediately imagined that they were adored and preferred to me. From that moment I was in their way, I endangered their existence! Legitimate monarchs would not have behaved differently; would not have thought themselves more firmly established. Weak-minded men! who, when I fell, had occasion to convince themselves that the enemy did not even do them the honour to demand the surrender of their dignities, or even to allude to it. If they are now put under personal restraint, if they are subject to vexation, it must proceed, on the part of the conqueror, from a wish to impose the weight of power, or from the base motive of gratifying his vengeance. If the members of my family excite a strong interest amongst mankind, it is because they belong to me and to the common cause; but assuredly there is not the least danger of any movement being produced by any of them. Notwithstanding the philosophy of several of them (for some of them had said, after the fashion of the chamberlains of the Faubourg St-Germain, that they were _forced_ to reign,) their fall must have been sensibly felt by them, for they had soon accommodated themselves to the pleasures and comforts of their station; they were all really kings. Thanks to my labours, all have enjoyed the advantages of royalty; I alone have known its cares. I have all the time carried the world on my shoulders; and this occupation, after all, is rather fatiguing.

“It will perhaps be asked, why I persisted in erecting states and kingdoms? The manners and the situation of Europe required it. Every time that another country was annexed to France, the act added to the universal alarm which already prevailed, excited loud murmurs, and diminished the chances of peace. Then why, will it be farther said, did I indulge in the vanity of placing every member of my family on a throne? (for the generality of people must have thought me actuated by vanity alone:) why did I not rather fix my choice upon private individuals possessing greater abilities? To this I reply that it is not with thrones as with the functions of a prefect; talents and abilities are so common in the present age, among the multitude, that one must be cautious to avoid awakening the idea of competition. In the agitation in which we were involved, and with our modern institutions, it was proper to think rather of consolidating and concentrating the hereditary right of succession, in order to avoid innumerable feuds, factions, and misfortunes. If there was any fault in my person and my elevation, consistently with the plan of universal harmony which I meditated for the repose and happiness of all, it was that I had risen at once from the multitude. I felt that I stood insulated and alone, and I cast out anchors on all sides into the sea around me. Where could I more naturally look for support than amongst my own relations? Could I expect more from strangers? And it must be admitted that if the members of my family have had the folly to break through these sacred ties, the morality of the people, superior to their blind infatuation, fulfilled in part my object. With them their subjects thought themselves more quiet, more united as in one family.

“To resume: acts of that importance were not to be considered lightly; they were involved in considerations of the highest order; they were connected with the tranquillity of mankind, the possibility of ameliorating its condition. If, notwithstanding all these measures, taken with the best intentions, it seems that no permanent good has been effected, we must admit the truth of this great maxim, that to govern is very difficult for those who wish to do it conscientiously.”

The following letter, of a very old date, will serve to throw great light upon the words of Napoleon, mentioned a few pages back, respecting the conduct of his brother in Holland.

At a later period, King Louis published a sort of account of his administration, addressed to the Dutch nation; it is particularly interesting, after having read the above paragraph and the accompanying letter, to take up that document of King Louis, in order to be able to form an opinion on the subject founded on a due knowledge of all the circumstances.

“_Castle of Marach, 3d April, 1808._

“Sir and brother.—The auditor D——t delivered to me an hour ago your despatch, dated 22d March. I send a courier who will take this letter to you in Holland.

“The use you have just made of the privilege of mercy cannot but produce a very bad effect. This privilege is one of the finest and noblest attributes of the sovereign power. In order not to bring it into discredit, it must be used only in cases when the royal clemency is not detrimental to the ends of justice, or when it is calculated to leave an impression of being the result of generous feelings. The present case is that of a number of banditti, who attacked and murdered several custom-house officers, with the intention of smuggling afterwards without interruption. These people are condemned to death; and your Majesty extends the royal mercy to them ... to a set of murderers, to men whom nobody can pity. If they had been caught in the act of smuggling; if, in defending themselves, they had killed some of the officers, then you might perhaps have taken into consideration the situation of their families, and their own; and have shewn an example of a kind of paternal feeling, by modifying the severity of the law, by a commutation of punishment. It is in cases of condemnation for offences against the revenue laws, it is more particularly in cases of condemnation for political offences, that clemency is well applied. In these matters the principle is that, if it is the Sovereign who is attacked, there is a certain magnanimity in pardoning the offender. On the first report of an affair of that kind, the sympathy of the public is immediately excited in favour of the offender, and not of him who is to inflict the punishment. If the Prince remits the sentence, the people consider him superior to the offence, and the public clamour is directed against those who have offended him. If he follows the opposite system, he is thought vindictive and tyrannical. If he pardons atrocious crimes, he is looked upon as weak, or actuated by bad intentions.

“Do not fancy that the privilege of mercy can always be used without danger, and that society will always commend the exercise of it in the Sovereign. The Sovereign is blamed when he applies it in favour of murderers or great malefactors, because it then becomes injurious to the interests of the community. You have too frequently, and on too many occasions, extended the royal mercy. The kindness of your heart must not be listened to when it can become prejudicial to your people. In the affair of the Jews, I should have done as you did; but in that of the smugglers of Middelburg, I should not have pardoned on any account. Many reasons ought to have induced you to let justice take its course, and give the example of an execution which would have produced the excellent effect of preventing many crimes by the terror which it would have inspired. Public officers are murdered in the middle of the night—the murderers are condemned. Your Majesty commutes the punishment of death into a few years’ imprisonment! How much will this not tend to dishearten all the persons employed in the collection of your revenue! The political effect produced by it is also very bad, for the following reasons:—Holland was the channel through which England had, for many years, introduced her goods on the Continent. The Dutch merchants have made immense profits by this trade; and that is the reason why the Dutch nation is partial to England, and fond of smuggling, and why it hates France, who forbids smuggling and opposes England. The mercy which you have extended to these smugglers and murderers is a kind of compliment which you have paid to the taste of the Dutch for smuggling. You appear to make common cause with them,—and against whom? Against me.

“The Dutch love you: your disposition is amiable, your manners are unaffected, and you govern them according to their inclination; but you would make a beneficial use of the influence you possess if you shewed yourself positively determined to suppress smuggling, and if you opened their eyes to their real interests: they would then think that the system of prohibition is good, since it is observed by the King. I cannot see what advantage your Majesty can derive from a species of popularity which you would acquire at my expense. Certainly Holland is no longer what it was at the time of the treaty of Ryswick; and France is not in the situation in which it was placed during the last years of the reign of Louis XIV. If, therefore, Holland is unable to follow a system of policy independent of that of France, it must fulfil the conditions of the alliance.

“It is not to the present alone that sovereigns must accommodate their policy; the future must also be the object of their consideration. What is at this moment the situation of Europe? On one side, England, who possesses, by her sole exertions, a dominion to which the whole world has been hitherto compelled to submit. On the other side, the French Empire and the Continental States, which, strengthened by the union of their powers, cannot acquiesce in this supremacy exercised by England. Those states had also their colonies and a maritime trade; they possess an extent of coast much greater than England; but they have become disunited, and England has attacked the naval power of each separately: England has triumphed on every sea, and all navies have been destroyed. Russia, Sweden, France, and Spain, which possess such ample means for having ships and sailors, dare not venture to send a squadron out of their ports. It is, therefore, no longer from a confederation amongst the maritime powers—a confederation which it would be besides impossible to maintain, on account of the distance, and of the interference of the various interests of each with those of the others—that Europe can expect its maritime emancipation, and a system of peace, which can be established only by the will of England.

“I wish for peace; I wish to obtain it by every means compatible with the dignity of the power of France; at the expense of every sacrifice which our national honour can allow. Every day I feel more and more that peace is necessary; and the sovereigns of the Continent are as anxious for peace as I am. I feel no passionate prejudice against England; I bear her no insurmountable hatred: she has followed against me a system of repulsion; I have adopted against her the Continental system, not so much from a jealousy of ambition, as my enemies suppose, but in order to reduce England to the necessity of adjusting our differences. Let England be rich and prosperous; it is no concern of mine, provided France and her allies enjoy the same advantages.

“The Continental system has, therefore, no other object than to advance the moment when the public rights of Europe and of the French Empire will be definitively established. The sovereigns of the North observe and enforce strictly the system of prohibition, and their trade has been greatly benefited by it: the manufactures of Prussia may now compete with ours. You are aware that France, and the whole extent of coast which now forms part of the Empire, from the Gulf of Lyons to the extremity of the Adriatic, are strictly closed against the produce of foreign industry. I am about to adopt a measure with respect to the affairs of Spain, the result of which will be to wrest Portugal from England, and subject all the coasts of Spain, on both seas, to the influence of the policy of France. The coasts of the whole of Europe will then be closed against England, with the exception of those of Turkey, which I do not care about, as the Turks do not trade with Europe.

“Do you not perceive, from this statement, the fatal consequences that would result from the facilities given by Holland to the English for the introduction of their goods on the continent? They would enable England to levy upon us the subsidies which she would afterwards offer to other powers to fight against us. Your Majesty is as much interested as I am to guard against the crafty policy of the English Cabinet. A few years more, and England will wish for peace as much as we do. Observe the situation of your kingdom, and you will see that the system I allude to is more useful to yourself than it is to me. Holland is a maritime and commercial power; she possesses fine sea-ports, fleets, sailors, skilful commanders, and colonies, which do not cost any thing to the mother-country; and her inhabitants understand trade as well as the English. Has not Holland, therefore, an interest in defending all those advantages? May not peace restore her to the station she formerly held? Granted that her situation may be painful for a few years; but is not this preferable to making the King of Holland a mere governor for England, and Holland and her colonies a vassal of Great Britain? Yet the protection which you would afford to English commerce would lead to that result. The examples of Sicily and Portugal are still before your eyes.

“Await the result of the progress of time. You want to sell your spirits, and England wants to buy them. Point out the place where the English smugglers may come and fetch them; but let them pay for them in money and never in goods, _positively never!_ Peace must at last be made; and you will then conclude a treaty of commerce with England. I may perhaps also make one with her, but in which our mutual interests shall be reciprocally guaranteed. If we must allow England to exercise a kind of supremacy on the sea, a supremacy which she will have purchased at the expense of her treasure and her blood, and which is the natural consequence of her geographical position and of her possessions in the three other parts of the globe; at least our flags will be at liberty to appear on the ocean without being exposed to insult, and our maritime trade will cease to be ruinous. For the present we must direct our efforts towards preventing England from interfering in the affairs of the Continent.

“I have been led on, from the consideration of the mercy which you have granted, to the above details, and I have entered into them because I feared that your Dutch Ministers may impress your Majesty’s mind with false notions.

“I wish you to reflect seriously upon the contents of this letter, and to render the different subjects it treats upon objects of the deliberations of your councils, in order that your Ministers may give a proper direction and tendency to their measures. Under no pretence whatever will France allow Holland to separate herself from the Continental system.

“With respect to these smugglers, since the fault has been committed, it cannot be undone. I advise you, however, not to leave them in the prison of Middelburg; it is too near the spot where the crime was perpetrated: send them to the remotest part of Holland. The present having no other object, &c.

(Signed) “Napoleon.”

During dinner the Emperor asked his groom how his horse was; the groom answered that it was well fed, in good spirits, and in excellent condition. “I hope he does not complain of me,” said the Emperor, “if ever horse led the life of a canon, it is assuredly this.” It is now two or three months since the Emperor was on horseback.

ZEAL FOR WORKING.—IDEAS AND PLANS OF NAPOLEON RESPECTING OUR HISTORY, &C.—ON THE WORKS PUBLISHED, &C.—M. MÉNÉVAL; CURIOUS PARTICULARS.

25th—27th. The Emperor for some days past has been remarkably assiduous. All our mornings have been spent in making researches concerning Egypt, in the works of the ancient authors. We have looked over Herodotus, Pliny, Strabo, &c., together, without any other intermission than that which we required to eat our breakfast, which was served on his small table. The weather continued unfavourable, and the Emperor dictated every day and the whole day.

At dinner he told us that he found himself much better, and we then observed to him that for some time past, however, he had not been out of the house, and was occupied eight, ten, or twelve hours a day. “That is the very reason of my being better,” said he: “occupation is my element; I was born and made for it. I have found the limits beyond which I could not use my legs; I have seen the extent to which I could use my eyes; but I have never known any bounds to my capability of application. I nearly killed poor Ménéval; I was obliged to relieve him for a time from the duties of his situation, and place him for the recovery of his health near the person of Maria Louisa, where his post was a mere sinecure.”

The Emperor added that, if he were in Europe and had leisure, his pleasure would be to write history. He complained of the very indifferent manner in which history was written every where. The researches in which he had lately been engaged had proved this fact to him to a degree beyond any thing he could ever have suspected.

“We have no good history,” observed he, “and we could not have any; and the other nations of Europe are nearly in the same predicament as ourselves. Monks and privileged persons, that is to say, men friendly to abuses and inimical to information and learning, monopolized this branch of writing; they told us what they thought proper, or rather that which favoured their interests, gratified their passions, or agreed with their own views!—He had formed,” he said, “a plan for remedying the evil as much as possible; he intended, for instance, to appoint commissions from the Institute, or learned men whom public opinion might have pointed out to him, to revise, criticize, and re-publish our annals. He wished also to add commentaries to the classic authors which are put in the hands of our youth, to explain them with reference to our modern institutions. With a good programme, competition, and rewards, this end would have been accomplished; every thing,” he said, “can be obtained by such means.”

He then repeated, what I believe I have mentioned before, that it had been his intention to cause the history of the last reigns of our kings to be written from the original documents in the archives of our Foreign Office. There were also several manuscripts, both ancient and modern, in the Imperial Library, which he intended to have printed, classifying and embodying them under their different heads, so as to form codes of doctrine on science, morality, literature, fine arts, &c.

He had, he said, several other plans of a similar nature. And could any other period be found equally favourable to the execution of such plans? When will there be again united in the same man the genius to conceive and the power to execute them?

In order to check the production of the immense number of inferior works with which the public was inundated, without however trenching upon the liberty of the press, he asked what objection there could have been to the formation of a tribunal of opinion, composed of members of the Institute, members of the University, and persons appointed by the government, who would have examined all works with reference to these three points of view, science, morality, and politics; who would have criticized them, and defined the degree of merit possessed by each. This tribunal would have been the light of the public; it would have operated as a warranty in favour of works of real merit, insured their success, and thus produced emulation; whilst, on the contrary, it would necessarily have discouraged the publication of inferior productions.

All our evenings were devoted to the Odyssey, with which we are delighted. Polyphemus, Tiresias, and the Syrens, have quite charmed us.

The following details relate to M. Ménéval, to whom the Emperor alluded above; they will be considered invaluable, as they will serve to exhibit Napoleon in the sphere of his private life.

The Emperor, when First Consul, complained that he had no Secretary. He had just dismissed the one he had had during the campaigns of Italy and the expedition in Egypt; he was an old college acquaintance of the Emperor’s, a man full of intelligence, and to whom he was very much attached; but he had been obliged to part with him. His brother Joseph then offered him his own secretary, whom he had only had for a short time: Napoleon accepted the offer, and acquired a treasure. This the Emperor has repeated several times since. It was Ménéval, whom he has since made a baron, _Maître des Requêtes_, and _Secrétaire des Commandemens_ to the Empress Maria Louisa.

Ménéval’s title, when attached to the First Consul, was Secretary of the Portfolio; a long regulation was even made expressly regarding him; the principal article of which was that he should never, under any pretence whatever, have a secretary, or employ an amanuensis; which condition was strictly observed.

M. Ménéval was a man of gentle and reserved manners, very discreet, working at all times and at all hours. The Emperor never had reason to be dissatisfied or displeased with him, and was very much attached to him. The Secretary of the Portfolio had generally all the current business, all affairs that arose on a sudden emergency, or from a sudden thought. How many affairs, plans, and conceptions, have been discussed and transmitted through his medium! He opened and read all letters addressed to the Emperor; classed them for the Emperor’s examination, and wrote under his dictation.

The Emperor dictated so fast that, most frequently, in order to save time, the Secretary was obliged to endeavour to recollect the words, rather than attempt to write them down at the moment they were pronounced. In this, Ménéval particularly excelled. In the course of time, Ménéval was authorized himself to return answers on many subjects. He might easily have acquired great influence; but it was not in his disposition to seek to obtain it.

The Emperor was almost always in his closet; it might be said that he spent the whole day and part of the night in it. He usually went to bed at ten or eleven o’clock, and rose again about twelve, to work for a few hours more. Sometimes he sent for M. Ménéval, but most frequently he did not; and, aware of his zeal, he would sometimes say to him, “You must not kill yourself.”

When the Emperor went into his closet in the morning, he found bundles of papers already arranged and prepared for him by Ménéval, who had been there before him. If the Emperor sometimes allowed twenty-four hours, or two days, to elapse without going into it, his Secretary would remind him of it, and tell him that he would suffer himself to be overwhelmed with the mass of papers that were accumulating, and that the closet would soon be full of them. To this the Emperor usually answered good-humouredly: “Do not alarm yourself, it will soon be cleared;” and so indeed it was, for in a few hours the Emperor had despatched all the answers, and was even with the current business. It is true that he got through a great deal by not answering many things, and throwing away all that he considered useless, even when coming from his Ministers. To this they were accustomed; and when no answer appeared they knew what it meant. He himself read all letters that were addressed to him; to some he answered by writing a few words in the margin, and to others he dictated an answer. Those that were of great importance were always put by, read a second time, and not answered until some time had elapsed. When leaving his closet, he generally recapitulated those affairs that were of the greatest consequence, and fixed the hour at which they must be ready for him, which was always punctually attended to. If at that hour the Emperor did not come, M. Ménéval followed him about from place to place through the palace to remind him of it. On some of these occasions the Emperor would go and settle the affair, at other times he would say, “To-morrow; night is a good adviser.” This was his usual phrase; and he often said that he had indeed worked much harder at night than during the day; not that thoughts of business prevented him from sleeping, but because he slept at intervals, according as he wanted rest, and a little sufficed for him.

It often happened that the Emperor, in the course of his campaigns, was roused suddenly upon some emergency; he would then immediately get up, and it would have been impossible to guess from the appearance of his eyes that he had just been asleep. He then gave his decision, or dictated his answer, with as much clearness, and with his mind as free and unembarrassed, as at any other moment. This he called the _after-midnight presence of mind_; and he possessed it in a most extraordinary degree. It has sometimes happened that he has been perhaps called up as often as ten times in the same night, and each time he was always found to have fallen asleep again, not having as yet taken his quantum of rest.

Boasting one day to one of his ministers (General Clarke) of the faculty which he possessed of sleeping almost at pleasure and how little rest he required, Clarke answered in a jocular tone, “Yes, Sire, and that is a source of torment to us, for it is often at our expense; we come in for our share of it sometimes.”

The Emperor did every thing himself and through the medium of his Cabinet. He appointed to all vacant situations, and most frequently substituted new names to those of the persons proposed to him. He read the plans of his Ministers, adopted, rejected, or modified them. He even indited the notes of his Minister for Foreign Affairs, which he dictated to Ménéval, from whom he kept no secret. It was through Ménéval also that he wrote to the different sovereigns; in addressing whom he observed a formula which he had had drawn up from the reports of former times, and to the strict observance of which he attached great importance. All the Ministers transacted business with the Emperor together on one day of the week, appointed for that purpose, unless something occurred to prevent it. The business of each Minister was transacted in the presence of all the others, who were allowed to give their opinions respecting it, and each of them thus emptied his portfolio. A register was kept of the deliberations, of which there must be many volumes. Those documents that had been decided on were left to have the signature affixed to them, which was done through the medium of the Minister Secretary of State, who countersigned them. Sometimes some of these papers, after they had been thus decided on, were still sent to the Emperor’s cabinet to be revised and modified before the signature was put to them. The Minister for Foreign Affairs was the only one who, independently of his share in the general business transacted by the other Ministers, had besides, from the secret nature of his functions, other business to despatch in private with the Emperor.

One of the favourite aides-de-camp of the Emperor was entrusted with all that related to the _personnel_ of the war-department. For a long time Duroc occupied this confidential post; afterwards Bertrand and Lauriston; Count Lobau was the last who filled it.

M. Ménéval, being in a very indifferent state of health, worn down by fatigue from application, and requiring some interval of repose, the Emperor gave him a situation in the household of the Empress Maria Louisa, which was, he said, quite a sinecure. However, the Emperor only parted with him on condition that he should come back to him as soon as he was well; and he never failed to remind him of it every time he saw him.

After Ménéval’s retirement, the business of the Emperor’s cabinet ceased to be conducted by one person only; Ménéval had a great many successors at the same moment, and the cabinet became a kind of office, in which several persons were employed. One of these persons, whom the Emperor had taken on the recommendation of others who had thought they could answer for him as for themselves, received an order, at the time of the disasters of 1814, to burn the documents that were in the closet; but, instead of obeying this order, he so far forgot his duty as to take them away with him: and, after the King’s restoration, he wrote to one of his Ministers to offer them to him. The Emperor found the proof of his treachery amongst the papers left at the Tuileries at the period of the 20th of March; and one morning having gone into his closet before any body was come, he wrote several times on a piece of paper, as if he had been trying his pen, _Such a one (naming him) is a traitor_—_Such a one is a traitor_; and laid it on the table where sat one of those who had recommended him, and who was himself, said the Emperor, a man on whose zeal and fidelity every reliance could be placed. This was the only reproach he ever addressed to him, and the only revenge he ever exercised on the offender.

Several traces may therefore still be found, and several documents must exist, of the business transacted in the Emperor’s cabinet. Some of these documents have been alluded to in the debates of the British Parliament; but Napoleon solemnly declared, on his return at the period of the 20th of March last, that these documents had been falsified. And they are not the only documents that are left of that ever-memorable administration.

There must be twenty or thirty folio volumes, and as many in quarto, containing the correspondence of the campaigns of Italy and of Egypt, collected and regularly classed.

There must be also about sixty or eighty folio volumes of the deliberations of the Council Ministers, collected by the Secretaries of State, the Duke of Bassano and Count Daru; and lastly, the minutes of the sittings of the Council of State, written and arranged by M. Locré.

These are real and proud titles of glory for Napoleon. Upon these immortal monuments, all subsequent governments have modelled and directed their administration; and from them all future governments, of every country, will henceforth inevitably seek and derive information: so sure and solid have been the foundations which he has laid—so judiciously placed the landmarks—so deep are the roots—so much, in one word, does the whole bear the stamp of genius, and the character of rectitude and of duration.

OBSERVATIONS OF THE EMPEROR CONCERNING MY WIFE.—DICTATION OF THE EMPEROR FOR ANOTHER PORTION OF HIS MEMOIRS.

28th.—The Emperor to-day availed himself of an interval of fine weather to take two turns in the calash: he said he wanted a little jolting. His left cheek was still swelled. About three o’clock he returned; and, a short time afterwards, having nothing to do, he sent for me, and we walked round the garden for some time. Having perceived the Doctor, he beckoned to him. The Doctor came up to us, and from him Napoleon heard that the Russian and Austrian Commissioners had come the day before to the entrance to Longwood, from which they had been turned away by the centry placed by the Governor.

When we were alone, the Emperor, after having conversed upon a variety of subjects, spoke of my wife, conjecturing what she might be doing, what had become of her, &c.

“There is no doubt,” said he, presently afterwards, “that your situation at St. Helena inspires a lively interest, and must tend to cause your wife’s company to be sought after. Every thing relating to me is still dear to many persons. From this rock I still bestow crowns!... Yes, my dear friends, when you return to Europe, you will find yourselves crowned!”

Then, speaking again of my wife, he said, with an expression of the utmost kindness, “The best thing she could do would be to go and spend the time of her separation from you with Madame, or some other members of my family. They would undoubtedly feel much pleasure in taking care of her,” &c.

When we went back into the house, the Emperor sat down to work. The Campaign of Italy was nearly finished but he provided me with a new subject.

“_Note, write_:”—These were the words which the Emperor uttered abruptly when a new idea occurred. What follows is literally what he dictated to me, in this instance: nothing has been altered in it, and he has never read it over.

“Note.—The Campaign of Italy being completed, Las Cases will, in the course of a week, undertake the period from the breaking of the treaty of Amiens to the battle of Jena. In 1802 all Europe is at peace; shortly afterwards all Europe begins war: the Republic is changed, and becomes the Empire; the maritime question becomes the chief cause of the rupture of the peace of Amiens.

“Las Cases will begin by causing extracts to be made from the Moniteur of that time, by little Emanuel, under his directions: he must get through at least six or seven a-day, which will make one hundred and eighty, or a period of six months in one month.—There must be at least a period of six months extracted before we begin.

“The periods preceding and following that period will be prepared and arranged by the other gentlemen. In making the extracts, the plan already prescribed to M. Montholon must be followed; that is, of extracting all that relates to one event, and referring to the page and month.

_The following will be the great events of this period_:—

“1st, History of the flotilla. “2d, Declaration of Austria. “3d, Movements of the fleets. “4th, Battle of Trafalgar. “5th, Ulm—Austerlitz. “6th, Peace of Vienna. “7th, Negotiation of Lord Lauderdale at Paris. “8th, Battle of Jena. “_To be inserted in their respective places_:— “1st, Conspiracy of Georges. “2d, Affair of the Duc d’Enghien. “3d, Coronation of the Emperor, by the Pope. “4th, Imperial organization.

“This will be one of the most glorious periods of the history of France; for it exhibits, in the space of one year, on one side a Pope coming to France to crown an Emperor,—an event which had not taken place for one thousand years before; and, on the other, the French flag waving over the capitals of Austria and Prussia, the Roman empire dissolved, and the Prussian monarchy destroyed.”

I take pleasure in transcribing literally the above dictation of the Emperor’s, with his first ideas and in his first words, in order to shew his style and manner.

It will be easily conceived with what zeal and ardour both my son and myself devoted ourselves to this our task, the importance of which we fully appreciated. We had not yet completed the analysis of our six months, when I was torn from Longwood.

ON A HOLE IN THE GARDEN.

29th.—During dinner somebody mentioned a pool which stands in our garden, not far from the house, and which is deep enough to admit of a lamb having once been drowned in it, in attempting to drink. The Emperor said on that occasion, to one of the inmates of the house: “Is it possible, Sir, that you have not yet had this pool filled up? How guilty you would be, and what would not your grief be, if your son were to be drowned in it, as it might easily happen!” The person thus censured answered that he had often intended to have it done, but that it was impossible to get workmen. “That is not an excuse,” said the Emperor sharply: “if _my_ son were here, I should go and fill it up with my own hands.”

The Emperor was already in bed when he sent for me: he wished, he said, to put some questions to me, and to inquire concerning some dates connected with matters which concerned us materially. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

ELOQUENT DICTATIONS OF THE EMPEROR.—CHARACTERISTIC DETAILS, AND PARTICULARS.

30th.—Whenever the Emperor took up a subject, if he was in the least animated, his language was fit to be printed. He has often, when an idea struck him forcibly, dictated in an off-hand way to any one of us who happened to be in his way, pages of the most polished diction. The other gentlemen of his suite must possess a great many of these dictations, which are all most valuable. Unfortunately for me, the weak state of my eyes, which prevented me from writing, most frequently deprived me of this advantage.

On one occasion, when the English ministerial newspapers adverted to the treasures which Napoleon must possess, and which he, no doubt, concealed, the Emperor dictated as follows:

“You wish to know the treasures of Napoleon? They are immense, it is true, but they are all exposed to light. They are: The noble harbours of Antwerp and Flushing, which are capable of containing the largest fleets, and of protecting them against the ice from the sea,—the hydraulic works at Dunkirk, Havre, and Nice,—the immense harbour of Cherbourg,—the maritime works at Venice,—the beautiful roads from Antwerp to Amsterdam; from Mentz to Metz; from Bordeaux to Bayonne;—the passes of the Simplon, of Mont Cenis, of Mont Genevre, of La Corniche, which open a communication through the Alps in four different directions; and which exceed in grandeur, in boldness, and in skill of execution, all the works of the Romans: in these alone you will find eight hundred millions;—the roads from the Pyrenees to the Alps, from Parma to Spezzia, from Savona to Piedmont,—the bridges of Jena, Austerlitz, the Arts, Sevres, Tours, Rouanne, Lyons, Turin, of the Isere, of the Durance, of Bordeaux, of Rouen, &c.—the canal which connects the Rhine with the Rhone by the Doubs, and thus unites the North Sea with the Mediterranean; the canal which connects the Scheldt with the Somme, and thus joins Paris and Amsterdam; the canal which unites the Rance with the Vilaine; the canal of Arles, that of Pavia, and the canal of the Rhine—the draining of the marshes of Burgoing, of the Cotentin, of Rochfort—the rebuilding of the greater number of the churches destroyed during the Revolution—the building of others—the institution of numerous establishments of industry for the suppression of mendicity—the works at the Louvre—the construction of public warehouses, of the Bank, of the canal of the Ourcq—the distribution of water in the city of Paris—the numerous sewers, the quays, the embellishments, and the monuments of that large capital—the works for the embellishment of Rome—the re-establishment of the manufactures of Lyons—the creation of many hundreds of cotton manufactories for spinning and for weaving, which employ several millions of hands—funds accumulated to establish upwards of 400 manufactories of sugar from beet-root, for the consumption of part of France, and which would have furnished sugar at the same price as the West Indies, if they had continued to receive encouragement for only four years longer—the substitution of woad for indigo, which would have been at last brought to equal in quality, and not to exceed in price, the indigo from the Colonies—numerous manufactories for all kinds of objects of art, &c.—fifty millions expended in repairing and beautifying the palaces belonging to the Crown—sixty millions in furniture for the palaces belonging to the Crown in France and in Holland, at Turin, and at Rome—sixty millions in diamonds for the Crown, all purchased with Napoleon’s money—_the Regent_ (the only diamond that was left belonging to the former diamonds of the Crown) withdrawn from the hands of the Jews at Berlin, with whom it had been pledged for three millions—the Napoleon Museum, valued at upwards of four hundred millions, filled with objects legitimately acquired either by money or treaties of peace known to the whole world, by virtue of which the master-pieces it contains were given in lieu of territory or of contributions—several millions amassed for the encouragement of agriculture, which is the paramount consideration for the interest of France—the introduction into France of Merino sheep, &c.——these form a treasure of several thousand millions, which will endure for ages! these are the monuments that will confute calumny!”

History will say that all these things were accomplished amidst perpetual wars, without having recourse to any loan, and whilst the national debt was even diminishing every day, and that nearly fifty millions of taxes had been remitted. Very large sums still remained in his private treasury; they were guaranteed to him by the treaty of Fontainebleau, as the result of the savings effected on his civil list and of his other private revenues. These sums were divided and did not go entirely into the public treasury, nor altogether into the treasury of France!!

On another occasion, the Emperor reading in an English newspaper that Lord Castlereagh had said, at a meeting in Ireland, that Napoleon had declared at St. Helena that he never would have made peace with England but to deceive her, to take her by surprise, and to destroy her; and that, if the French army was attached to the Emperor, it was because he was in the habit of giving the daughters of the richest families of his empire in marriage to his soldiers: the Emperor, moved with indignation, dictated as follows: “These calumnies uttered against a man who is so barbarously oppressed, and whose voice is not allowed to be heard in answer to them, will be disbelieved by all persons well educated and susceptible of feeling. When Napoleon was seated on the first throne in the world, then no doubt his enemies had a right to say whatever they pleased; his actions were public, and were a sufficient answer to them; at any rate, that conduct now belonged to public opinion, and history; but to utter new and base calumnies against him at the present moment is an act of the utmost meanness and cowardice, and which will not answer the end proposed. Millions of libels have been and are still published every day, but they are without effect. Sixty millions of men, of the most polished nations in the world, raise their voices to confute them, and fifty thousand English, who are now travelling on the Continent, will, on their return home, publish the truth to the inhabitants of the three kingdoms of Great Britain, who will blush at having been so grossly deceived.

“As for the Bill, by virtue of which Napoleon has been dragged to this rock, it is an act of proscription similar to those of Sylla, and still more atrocious. The Romans unrelentingly pursued Hannibal to the utmost extremities of Bithynia; and Flaminius persuaded King Prusias to assent to the death of that great man; yet at Rome Flaminius was accused of having acted thus in order to satisfy his personal hatred. It was in vain that he urged in his defence that Hannibal, yet in the vigour of life, might still become a dangerous enemy, and that his death was necessary; a thousand voices were raised, and answered that acts of injustice and ungenerous actions can never be useful to a great nation; and that, upon such pretences as that now set forth, murder, poisoning, and every species of crime might be justified! Succeeding generations reproached their ancestors with this base act. They would have paid a high price to efface the stain from their history, and, since the revival of letters among modern nations, there is not a generation that has not added its imprecations to those pronounced by Hannibal at the moment when he drank the fatal cup: he cursed Rome, who, whilst her fleets and legions covered Europe, Asia, and Africa, wreaked her vengeance against a man alone and unprotected, because she feared, or pretended to fear, him.

“The Romans, however, never violated the rights of hospitality: Sylla found an asylum in the house of Marius. Flaminius, before he proscribed Hannibal, did not receive him on board his ship and declare that he had orders to treat him favourably; the Roman fleet did not convey him to the Port of Ostia; and Hannibal, instead of placing himself under the protection of the Romans, preferred trusting his person to a King of Asia. When he was proscribed, he was not under the protection of the Roman flag; he was under the banners of a king who was an enemy of Rome.

“If ever, in the revolutions of ages, a King of England should be brought before the awful tribunal of his nation, his defenders will urge in his favour the sacred character of a king, the respect due to the throne, to all crowned heads, to the anointed of the Lord! But his accusers will have a right to answer thus: ‘One of the ancestors of this King, whom you defend, banished a man that was his guest, in time of peace; afraid to put him to death in the presence of a nation governed by positive laws and by regular and public forms, he caused his victim to be exposed on the most unhealthy point of a rock, situated in another hemisphere, in the midst of the ocean, where this guest perished, after a long agony, a prey to the climate, to want, to insults of every kind! Yet that guest was also a great Sovereign, raised to the throne on the shields of thirty-six millions of citizens. He had been master of almost every Capital of Europe; the greatest Kings composed his Court; he was generous towards all; he was during twenty years the arbiter of nations; his family was allied to every reigning family, even to that of England; he was twice the anointed of the Lord; twice consecrated by the august ceremonies of religion!!!’”

This passage is certainly very fine, for its truth, its diction, and above all, for its historical richness.

The Emperor always dictated without the least preparation. I never saw him, on any occasion, make any research respecting our history or that of any other nation; and yet no man ever quoted history more faithfully, more _apropos_, or more frequently. One might have supposed that he knew history by quotations only, and that these quotations occurred to him as by inspiration. And here I must be allowed to mention a fact which has often struck me, and which I never could satisfactorily account for to myself; but it is so very remarkable, and I have witnessed it so often, that I cannot pass it in silence. It is that Napoleon seems to possess a stock of information on several points, which remains within him, in reserve as it were, to burst forth with splendour on remarkable occasions, and which in his moments of carelessness appears to be not only slumbering, but almost unknown to him altogether. With respect to history, for instance, how often has it happened that he has asked me whether St. Louis reigned before or after Philip the Fair, and other questions of the same kind. But, when occasion offered, when his moment came, then he would quote without hesitation, and with the most minute details; and when I have sometimes happened to be in doubt, and to go and verify, I have always found him to be right and most scrupulously exact: I have never been able to detect him in error.

Another singular peculiarity in him of the same kind is this:—In his common intercourse of life, and his familiar conversation, the Emperor mutilated the names most familiar to him, even ours; yet I do not think that this would have happened to him on a public occasion. I have heard him many times, during our walks, repeat the celebrated speech of Augustus; and he has never missed saying, “Take a seat, Sylla.”[30] He would frequently create names of persons according to his fancy; and, when he had once adopted them, they remained fixed in his mind, although we pronounced them as they should be, a hundred times in the day, within his hearing; but he would have been struck if we had used them as he had altered them. It was the same with respect to orthography: in general, he did not attend to it; yet, if our copies had contained any faults of spelling, he would have complained of it. One day the Emperor said to me; “You do not write orthographically, do you?” This question gave rise to a sarcastic smile from a bystander, who thought that it was meant to convey a reproach. The Emperor, who saw this, continued:—“At least, I suppose you do not; for a man occupied with public or other important business, a Minister, for instance, cannot, and need not, attend to orthography. His ideas must flow faster than his hand can trace; he has only time for hieroglyphics; he must put letters for words, and words for sentences; and leave the scribes to make it out afterwards.”—The Emperor left a great deal for the copyists to do; he was their torment: his handwriting actually formed hieroglyphics; he often could not decipher it himself. My son was one day reading to him a chapter of the Campaign of Italy: on a sudden he stopped short, unable to make out the writing. “The little blockhead,” said the Emperor, “cannot read his own writing!”—“It is not mine, Sire.”—“And whose then?” “Your Majesty’s.”—“How, you little rogue! do you mean to insult me?” The Emperor took the manuscript, tried a long while to read it, and at last threw it down, saying, “He is right: I cannot tell myself what is written.”—He has often sent the copyists to me, to try to read to them what he had himself been unable to decipher.

Footnote 30:

Instead of Cinna, in Corneille’s tragedy of _Cinna_, act v. scene 1st.—_Eng. Ed._

The Emperor accounted for the clearness of his ideas, and the faculty of extremely protracted application which he possessed, by saying that the different affairs were arranged in his head as in a closet. “When I wish to turn from any business,” said he, “I close the drawer which contains it, and I open that which contains another. They do not mix together, and do not fatigue me or inconvenience me.” He had never been kept awake, he said, by an involuntary pre-occupation of mind. If I wish to sleep, I shut up all the drawers, and I am soon asleep. So that he had always, he added, slept when he wanted rest, and almost at will.

MY ATLAS.—PREDESTINATION, &C.—THE GOVERNOR MAKES FRUITLESS ATTEMPTS TO BE RECEIVED BY THE EMPEROR.

Tuesday, 1st October. When I entered the Emperor’s room, he had my Atlas in his hands. He turned over several of the genealogical maps, whose relation and correspondence with each other he now understands remarkably well. On closing the book, he said, “What a concatenation! how each part results from and corroborates what goes before it! How every part unfolds itself and remains fixed in the mind! Las Cases, if you had done nothing more than point out the true method for instruction, you would still have rendered a most essential service. Every one may now clothe the skeleton as they like; it will, no doubt, be improved upon, but the first conception is yours,” &c.

Amongst the numerous subjects of conversation which followed, predestination was mentioned. The Emperor made many remarkable observations on that subject; amongst others, “Pray,” said he, “am I not said to be given to the belief in predestination?” “Yes, Sire, at least by many people.” “Well, well! let them say on; one may sometimes be tempted to imitate, and it may occasionally be useful.... But what are men!... How much easier it is to occupy their attention, and to strike their imaginations, by absurdities than by rational ideas! But can a man of sound sense listen for one moment to such a doctrine? Either predestination admits the existence of free will, or it rejects it. If it admits it, what kind of predetermined result is that which the mere will, a step, a word, may alter or modify, _ad infinitum_? If predestination, on the contrary, rejects the existence of free will, it is quite another question; in that case a child need only be thrown into its cradle as soon as it is born; there is no necessity for bestowing the least care upon it; for if it be irrevocably determined that it is to live, it will grow though no food should be given to it. You see that such a doctrine cannot be maintained: predestination is but a word without meaning. The Turks themselves, those patrons of fatalism, are not convinced of the doctrine, or medicine would not exist in Turkey; and a man residing in a third floor would not take the trouble to go down by the longer way of the stairs, he would immediately throw himself out of the window: you see to what a string of absurdities that will lead.”

At about three o’clock, the Emperor was told that the Governor wished to communicate to him some instructions which he had just received from London. The Emperor replied that he was unwell, that the instructions might be sent to him, or communicated to some of his suite; but the Governor insisted on being admitted, saying, that he wished to communicate directly with the Emperor: he added that he had also a few words to say to us in private, after having spoken to _the General_. The Emperor again refused; upon which the Governor retired, saying that he begged he might be informed when he _could_ see _the General_. This period may be distant indeed; the Emperor, with whom I was at that moment, having said to me that he was determined never to receive him again.

After dinner, the Emperor had Buffon and Valmont de Bomare brought to him. He looked at what these authors say respecting the diversities in the human species, the difference between a negro and a white; but he was not much satisfied with what he found in them on the subject. He retired early to his apartment: he was unwell.

2d. The Emperor having told me that he was determined to apply again to the study of English, and that I must oblige him every morning to take his lesson, I accordingly went to his apartment at about half-past twelve. I was not fortunate in the choice of the moment, for he was lying on his sofa asleep after his breakfast. I must have vexed him, and was very much vexed myself. However, he would not let me go away, and read a little English for about half an hour. He was not very well. He dressed. Having told him that we had finished what he had given us to do, he at first proposed to go to work on the chapters of the Campaign of Italy; but he afterwards altered his mind, and was busy the whole day on something else. At about five o’clock he attempted to walk out, but found the weather too cold. After dinner, he tried to read, but in vain; he could not go on: he felt tired, drowsy, indisposed, and withdrew almost immediately.

JURISPRUDENCE; THE CODE; MERLIN, &C.—MONUMENTS IN EGYPT.—PLAN OF AN EGYPTIAN TEMPLE IN PARIS.

3d. After breakfast, the Emperor took two or three turns in the garden. We were all with him. He spoke of the communications which the Governor had to make to us, and took a review of the different conjectures—some good, some bad—which each of us formed on the subject. The weather was tolerable; he ordered the calash, and we went round the wood. The heat and the heaviness of the atmosphere, though the sun was obscured, obliged him to go into the house again. He sat down and dictated to my son until five o’clock.

We again tried to take a few turns in the garden; but the air was cold and damp. He went in-doors again, and made me go to converse with him. He turned over an English book, and stopped at a part relating to jurisprudence, and the criminal codes of France and England, endeavouring to compare them. Every body knows how extremely well versed he is in our codes; but he has little knowledge of that of England, and, with the exception of some general points, I could not answer his questions. In the course of the conversation he said: Laws which in theory are a model of clearness become too often a chaos in their application; because men, with their passions, spoil every thing they touch, &c.... Men can only avoid being exposed to the arbitrary acts of the judge, by submitting to the despotism of the law, &c.... I had at first fancied it would be possible to reduce all laws to simple geometrical demonstrations; so that every man who could read, and connect two ideas together, would be able to decide for himself; but I became convinced, almost immediately that this idea was absurd. However,” added he, “I should have wished to start from some fixed point, and follow one road known to all; to have no other laws but those inserted in the code; and to proclaim, once for all, that all laws which were not in the code were null and void. But it is not easy to obtain simplicity from practical lawyers: they first prove to you that simplicity is impossible, that it is a mere chimera; and endeavour next to demonstrate that it is incompatible with the stability and the existence of power. Power, they say, is exposed alone to the unforeseen machinations of all: it must therefore have, in the moment of need, arms kept in reserve for such cases: so that, with some old edicts of Chilperic or Pharamond, ferreted out for the occasion,” said Napoleon, “nobody can say that he is secure from being hanged in due form and according to law.

“So long as the subjects of discussion in the Council of State,” said the Emperor, “were referable to the code, I felt very strong; but when they diverged from it, I was quite in the dark, and Merlin was then my resource—he was my light. Without possessing much brilliancy, Merlin is very learned, wise, upright, and honest; one of the veterans of the good old cause: he was very much attached to me.

“No sooner had the code made its appearance, than it was almost immediately followed by commentaries, explanations, elucidations, interpretations, and the Lord knows what besides. I usually exclaimed, on seeing this: Gentlemen, we have cleaned the stable of Augeas; for God’s sake do not let us fill it again!” &c.

During dinner, the Emperor made some very remarkable observations respecting Egypt, which will be found in the chapters dictated to Bertrand. He then reverted to his expedition to Syria, and declared that the grand object of the expedition to Egypt was to shake the power of England in the four quarters of the world, by effecting a revolution capable of changing the whole face of the East, and giving a new destiny to India. Egypt, he said, was to stand us in stead of St. Domingo, and our American Colonies, to reconcile the liberty of the blacks with the prosperity of our commerce. This new colony would have ruined the English in America, in the Mediterranean, and even on the banks of the Ganges.

Then, answering the reproach preferred against him of having deserted his army, he said: “I merely obeyed the call of France, which summoned me to save her, and I had a right to do so. I had received from the Directory a _carte blanche_ for all my operations in the basin of the Mediterranean, in Africa, and in Asia. I had full powers for treating with the Russians, the Turks, the Barbary States, and the provinces of India. I was at liberty to appoint a successor, to bring back the army, or to return myself, if I thought proper.”

The Emperor thought that all he had seen in Egypt, and, particularly, all those celebrated ruins so much talked of, were not to be compared with Paris and the Tuileries. The only difference between Egypt and us was, in his opinion, that Egypt, thanks to the pureness of its air and the nature of its materials, preserved her ruins for ever; whereas the nature of our European atmosphere would not admit of our having any for any length of time, every thing being soon corroded and gone.

Vestiges of a thousand years’ date might be found on the banks of the Nile; but not one would subsist on the banks of the Seine in fifty years. He, however, regretted very much that he had not caused an Egyptian temple to be erected at Paris: he could have wished to adorn the capital with such a monument, &c.

RESOURCES DURING THE EMIGRATION: ANECDOTES, &C.—OFFICIAL COMMUNICATIONS.—NEW OFFENCES.

4th. At about twelve o’clock, I went to the Emperor’s apartment. He took a good lesson of English in Telemachus: he resolved to take up my method again; he approves of it, he said, and derives great benefit from it. He observed that he thought I had excellent dispositions for being a very good schoolmaster; I told him it was the fruit of my experience. He then made me enter into a great many details respecting the time when I gave lessons in London, during my emigration, and he was very much amused by them. “However,” said he, “you gentlemen, must have done credit to the profession, if not by your learning, at least, by your manners.” I then told him that one of our Princes had taught mathematics during his emigration. “And this alone,” said he, with animation, “would make a man of him, and shew him to have possessed some merit; that is assuredly one of the greatest triumphs of Madame de Genlis.”

I then related to him the following curious anecdote, which I had heard on that subject. “The Prince was in Switzerland: and, being so circumstanced as to find it advisable to conceal his existence, he wished to take a name that might favour his disguise. One of our Bishops, from the South of France, fancied that nothing could be better than to give him the name of a young man from Languedoc then at Nismes, who was a very zealous Protestant; which was just as it ought to be, the Prince being in a Protestant canton. The Bishop added that there was no appearance that the young man would ever be in the way to falsify the Prince’s assumption of his name. But it had so happened that the young man had gone into the army, and had become an aide-de-camp to M. de Montesquiou, and that shortly afterwards he had emigrated precisely into Switzerland with his general. What was his surprise to find himself at the _table d’hôte_, at dinner with a person of his own name, of the same religion, and who belonged to the same town! It was exactly like the scene of the two Sosias.[31] But the best of the joke was that the young man had also changed his name, and carefully concealed his own. Such incidents are only to be met with in novels; they are thought of impossible occurrence. Perhaps the present story has been rather embellished; yet, I think, I can affirm that I heard it from the young man himself.”

Footnote 31:

In Moliere’s Comedy of Amphitryon. _Eng. Ed._

“But,” observed the Emperor afterwards, “those amongst you emigrants who had created for yourselves resources abroad must have felt quite lost when you returned to France, and ruined once more?”—“Certainly, Sire; for we found nothing of what we had formerly left in France, and we had just abandoned the little we had made ourselves. But we had not calculated: our impatience to revisit our native land had over-balanced every other consideration, and several amongst us soon found themselves in the greatest distress, in want of every thing, although acquainted and even intimate with many of the great personages of the day—with your Ministers, Sire, your Councillors of State, and others. This circumstance gave rise to a _bon mot_ from one of our _wits_. Meeting one day, in the saloon of the Minister for Maritime Affairs, a friend who like himself hardly knew how to manage to subsist, he exclaimed, by way of consolation: “Well, my friend, if we die of hunger, we may still have two or three Ministers at our funeral.” The Emperor laughed heartily at the jest, and admitted that it gave an exact description of the situation of affairs at the time.

After his lesson of English, and the conversation which followed, the Emperor went out for a walk. We walked to the end of the wood, where the calash drove up to us.

On the Emperor’s return, the Doctor came to inform him that Colonel Reade, whom he had consented to receive instead of the Governor, wished to be presented to him. Colonel Reade delivered to the Emperor a note of considerable length; and I was sent for to translate it. It contained the communications which Sir Hudson Lowe had for three or four days past been vainly endeavouring to make in person. The note was couched in the most offensive terms, and the Governor wished to have reserved to himself the satisfaction of communicating its contents to the Emperor. This is a characteristic trait, and it requires no comment. The harsh terms in which it was expressed, and in particular the repeated threat that we should be separated from the Emperor, vexed us exceedingly, and put us out of spirits for the remainder of the day.

THE EMPEROR READS MY JOURNAL, AND DICTATES TO ME.—CONFERENCE BETWEEN THE GRAND MARSHAL AND THE GOVERNOR.

5th.—At an early hour this morning, before I had risen, I heard some one softly open my chamber-door. My apartment is so encumbered with my own bed and that of my son, that it is no easy matter to enter it. I perceived a hand drawing aside my bed-curtain: it was the Emperor’s. I was reading a book of geometry, a circumstance which amused him very much, and, as he said, saved my reputation. I instantly rose, and soon rejoined the Emperor, who was proceeding to the wood alone. He conversed for a considerable time on the events of the preceding day. He then returned to the house for the purpose of taking a bath: he was very ill, and had passed a bad night.

He sent for me at one o’clock. He was in the drawing-room, and he expressed a wish to take his English lesson. The weather was very hot and close. The Emperor felt languid and dispirited: he could not bend his mind to study, and several times fell asleep. At length he rose, saying he was determined to shake off his lethargy, and he proceeded to the billiard-room to breathe a little fresh air.

Conversing on the subject of the Campaigns of Italy, he enquired what I had done with the first rough draughts, observing that all the chapters had been several times re-copied. I told him that I had carefully preserved them. He desired to have all the manuscripts brought to him, and, laying aside two complete copies, he sent the rest into the kitchen to be burnt.

I have already several times mentioned that the Emperor knew I kept a Journal. This was a secret, and therefore he never spoke to me on the subject, except when we happened to be alone together. He often asked me whether I still continued my Journal, and what I could find to set down in it. “Sire,” I replied, “all that your Majesty does and says, from morning to night.” “Then,” said he, “you must have a monstrous deal of repetition, and must tell many useless things! But no matter, go on, some day we will look it over together.”

When he visited my chamber, he frequently found the faithful Aly engaged in re-copying my Journal; for he had kindly offered to employ himself in this way, during his leisure hours. The Emperor sometimes cast his eyes upon Aly’s writing, and, after reading a few lines, that is to say, as soon as he ascertained what it was, he would turn away and speak about something else, without ever alluding to the subject. This is precisely what had occurred this morning; and the Emperor, recollecting the circumstance, said that he wished at length to have a sight of this famous _jumble of trifles_. My son brought a portion of the manuscript, and the Emperor spent upwards of two hours in perusing it. The introduction, which relates to myself personally, fixed his attention; he read it over twice, and then said: “Well, very well; this is a fine inheritance for little Emanuel.” As to the Journal, he approved of its form and general plan. He made several corrections with his own hand, on those parts which related to his family and his childhood. He desired my son to take the pen, and he dictated to him some details respecting Brienne, Father Patrault, &c. When he had done, he desired me to continue my labours, as he was pleased with them; and he promised to furnish me with many anecdotes, particularly concerning Alexander and the other sovereigns.

He afterwards took a drive in the calash, in which I accompanied him, and the Journal again became the topic of conversation. The Emperor said a great deal on the subject, and expressed himself very much pleased with the idea. He gave me several hints respecting it, and concluded by observing that, from the peculiar circumstances under which it was produced, it might become a work truly unique in its character, and an invaluable treasure to his son.

On our return to Longwood, we found the Grand Marshal, who had just returned from Plantation House, where he had been to hold a conference on the subject of the communications of yesterday. We anxiously awaited the answer he might bring back. He informed us that a proposition had been made, which was nothing less than that four of us should be separated from the Emperor. There were many other minor points of a very vexatious nature; but this one caused us to lose sight of all the rest. The Governor had, however, finally agreed to remove only the Pole and three of the domestics. According to the report of the Grand Marshal, I was the individual upon whom the storm had lowered, of whom the Governor most particularly complained, and whose removal, he said, he should certainly have decided upon, had he not thought me too useful to the Emperor. He complained that I was constantly writing to Europe, declaiming against the Government and the injustice and oppression which I alleged were exercised towards us. His other subjects of complaint were, that I spoke of the Emperor to the strangers who visited Longwood in such a way as to excite their interest; that I was constantly endeavouring to establish communications with different individuals on the island (and he mentioned the instance of Mrs. Sturmer); that I had addressed, or endeavoured to transmit, various documents to Europe, &c. However, after having spoken of me in the most angry terms, for some reason or other, he endeavoured to soften down what he had said by a few complimentary observations. He remarked that he could scarcely have expected such conduct in a man possessing so much information, and whose good character was established throughout Europe.

After dinner, the Emperor amused himself by solving some problems in geometry and algebra: this, he said, reminded him of his youthful days; and it surprised us all to find that the subjects were still so fresh in his recollection.

PECULIAR CIRCUMSTANCE CONNECTED WITH MY JOURNAL.—THE EMPIRE OF OPINION.—TALMA, CRESCENTINI, &C.

6th—7th. During these two days, a circumstance has occurred, which is so nearly connected with the nature of the present work, that I cannot omit noticing it. I have just mentioned that the Emperor had expressed himself well satisfied with my journal: he alluded to it several times in the course of the day, assuring me that he should feel great pleasure in perusing and correcting it. This information, as it may be supposed, was highly gratifying to me. The moment which I had so long and ardently looked for had at length arrived. That which I had hastily, and, perhaps, inaccurately, collected, was now about to receive an inestimable correction and sanction. Imperfect points would be developed, chasms filled up, and obscurities explained. What a fund of historical truths and political secrets was I about to receive! Elated by these expectations, I the first day presented myself to the Emperor at the usual hour, having my journal with me; but he began to dictate to me on a totally different subject, and I was obliged to put up with the disappointment. Next day, the same thing occurred again. I now wished to call the Emperor’s attention to my Journal; but he did not appear to understand me, and I took the hint. I know Napoleon so well! He possesses in the highest degree the art of not seeming to understand; he resorts to it frequently, and always for some particular object. In the present instance I understood him sufficiently, and I did not again attempt to draw his attention to the subject. At first I was much puzzled to guess the motive that had induced him to act thus; and I made several conjectures, which have probably occurred to the reader, as well as to myself. A few days afterwards I was forced away from him, though I had not the least cause in the world to anticipate this fatal event.

I have dwelt on this circumstance with scrupulous exactness, because I conceive that it affords a new guarantee of my sincerity, and serves to explain precisely the nature of my Journal. Of the great bulk of its contents, and in particular the important events described in it, no doubt can be entertained. Some involuntary errors may, however, have crept into the details, from the hasty manner in which they were collected, and from my being deprived of the advantage of having the manuscript revised by the only individual who was capable of correcting its inaccuracies.

The Emperor, while he was dressing and waiting for the Grand Marshal to take his turn in writing, amused himself by conversing on different subjects.

He spoke of the influence of opinion, to which he so frequently alludes. He traced its secret progress, its uncertainty, and the caprice of its decisions. He then adverted to the natural delicacy of the French, which he said was exquisite in matters of decorum, the laudable susceptibility of our manners, and the graceful action and gentleness of touch which authority must employ, if an attempt is made to interfere with the national feeling.

“In conformity with my system,” observed he, “of amalgamating all kinds of merit, and of rendering one and the same reward universal, I had an idea of presenting the cross of the Legion of Honour to Talma; but I refrained from doing this, in consideration of our capricious manners and absurd prejudices. I wished to make a first experiment in an affair that was unimportant, and I accordingly gave the Iron Crown to Crescentini. The decoration was foreign, and so was the individual on whom it was conferred. This circumstance was less likely to attract public notice or to render my conduct the subject of discussion; at worst, it could only give rise to a few malicious jokes. Such,” continued the Emperor, “is the influence of public opinion. I distributed sceptres at will, and thousands readily bowed beneath their sway: and yet I could not give away a bit of ribbon without the chance of incurring disapprobation; for I believe my experiment, with regard to Crescentini, proved unsuccessful.” “It did, Sire,” observed some one present. “The circumstance occasioned a great outcry in Paris; it drew forth a general anathema in all the drawing-rooms of the metropolis, and afforded ample scope for the expression of malignant feeling. However, at one of the evening parties of the Faubourg Saint-Germain, a _bon-mot_ had the effect of completely stemming the torrent of indignation. A pompous orator was holding forth, in an eloquent strain, on the subject of the honour that had been conferred on Crescentini. He declared it to be a disgrace, a horror, a perfect profanation, and inquired what right Crescentini could have to such a distinction? On hearing this, the beautiful Madame G—— who was present, rose majestically from her chair, and, with a truly theatrical tone and gesture, exclaimed, ‘_Et sa blessoure Monsieur!_ do you make no allowance for that?’ This produced a general burst of laughter and applause, and poor Madame G—- was very much embarrassed by her success.”

The Emperor, who now heard this anecdote for the first time, was highly amused by it. He often afterwards alluded to it, and occasionally related it himself.

At dinner, the Emperor informed us that he had worked for twelve hours; and we observed that his day was not yet ended. He seemed to be ill and fatigued.

THE ODYSSEY—COMBAT BETWEEN ULYSSES AND IRUS.

8th. When I entered the Emperor’s apartment this morning, I found him engaged in reading the files of the _Journal des Debats_, which had lately arrived. At three o’clock he began to dress. His first valet de chambre was ill; and he observed that those who acted as his substitutes were not equal to him in address.

The weather was tolerable, and we walked to the extremity of the wood, where the calash was to take us up.

I had a disposable sum of money in London, which I had conveyed thither in 1814. The recollection of the privations I had endured during my emigration, and the chance of being exposed to future want, had prompted me to this act of prudence, and I was now reaping the fruits of it. Owing to this circumstance, I was more at my ease, as to pecuniary affairs, than any other individual of the Emperor’s suite at St. Helena; but what led me to regard this sum as an inestimable treasure was the happiness of being able to lay it at the feet of the Emperor. I had already several times proposed that he should accept it; and I now once more repeated the offer, while I adverted to the renewed outrages which we had just experienced from the Governor. At this moment we were joined by Madame de Montholon, who had set out after us. She observed that the Emperor walked so fast that she should certainly have lost sight of him, had not my gesticulations enabled her to keep her eye upon us; and that she had been puzzled to guess the cause of my vehemence of manner. “Madam,” said the Emperor with the most captivating grace, “he has been trying to make me accept his bounty; he has been offering to support us here.”

We returned almost immediately to the house, as the weather was very damp and the Emperor complained of tooth-ache. For some time past he has been troubled with a profuse secretion of saliva.

After dinner he resumed the reading of the Odyssey: we had arrived at the passage describing the combat between Ulysses and Irus, on the threshold of the palace, both in the garb of beggars. The Emperor very much disapproved of this episode, which he pronounced to be mean, incongruous, and beneath the dignity of the King. “And yet,” continued he, “independently of all the faults which, in my opinion, this incident presents, I still find in it something to interest me. I fancy myself in the situation of Ulysses, and then I can well conceive his dread of being overpowered by a wretched mendicant. Every prince or general has not the broad shoulders of his guards or grenadiers; every man has not the strength of a porter. But Homer has remedied all this by representing his heroes as so many giants. We have no such heroes now-a-days. What would become of us,” he added, glancing round at us all, “if we lived in those good times when bodily vigour constituted real power? Why, Noverraz (his valet-de-chambre) would wield the sceptre over us all. It must be confessed that civilization favours the mind entirely at the expense of the body.”

THE POLE ARRESTED BY THE GOVERNOR.—THE EMPEROR’S REFLECTIONS ON HIS SON AND ON AUSTRIA.—NEW VEXATIONS.—REMARKS ON LORD BATHURST.—OBSERVATIONS DICTATED BY NAPOLEON.

9th.—As we were walking to come up with the calash, we received information that the Pole had just been put under arrest by the Governor. This was, of course, merely a first step—a warning of what we all had to expect. Intimidation seems to be the system to which the Governor has resorted since the arrival of his last instructions, which he endeavours to fulfil to the utmost of his ingenuity. We shall see how far he will go.

When I waited on the Emperor, before dinner, I found him dull and apparently absent. The conversation led him to mention Austria, and he alluded to the wrongs which he had received from that Power, and the errors of her policy. He described the weakness of the monarch, who, he said, had never evinced energy, except when it tended to ruin him in the estimation of his subjects. He dwelt on the venality and want of principle which distinguished the men who had advised and executed the measures of the Austrian cabinet. He spoke of the blind policy of Austria, and described her dangerous situation. “She now stands,” said he, “in the most imminent peril, advancing to meet the embraces of a colossus in her front, while she cannot recede a single step, because an abyss is yawning on her flank and rear.”

This turn of the conversation naturally led the Emperor to speak of his son. “What education will they give him?” said he. “What sort of principles will they inculcate in his youthful mind? On the other hand, if he should prove weak in intellect—if they should inspire him with hatred of his father! These thoughts fill me with horror! and where is the antidote to all this? Henceforth there can be no certain medium of communication—no faithful tradition between him and me! At best my Memoirs, or perhaps your Journal, may fall into his hands. But to subdue the false precepts imbibed in early life, to counteract the errors of a bad education, requires a certain capacity, a certain strength of mind and decision of judgment which fall not to the share of every one.” He appeared deeply affected; and, after a pause of a few moments, he said, suddenly and with emphasis, “But let us talk of something else;” however, he still continued silent. I sat down to write, and after an hour or two the Grand Marshal came and took my place.

Just after I had quitted the Emperor’s apartments, I was again sent for to translate to him a large packet of papers which had been received from the Governor. The state of my eyes, which are now altogether failing me, obliged me to avail myself of M. de Montholon’s assistance in reading the papers.

Their contents were 1. Some of the new restrictions that have been imposed on us, in which the Emperor is treated in a way that may be termed curious; for indecency and indecorum are carried so far as to prescribe the nature and limits of the conversations which he is to be permitted to hold. This will scarcely be credited!

2. The form of the declaration which was presented for our signature. This was merely a series of arbitrary and useless vexations, heightened by every irritating circumstance that vengeance could suggest.

3. Finally a letter from the Governor to the Grand Marshal, founded on the note presented by Colonel Reade, which I translated to the Emperor, and which the colonel had refused to leave behind him; the reader will recollect my having already noticed it. However, in the letter now transmitted to the Emperor certain essential points were very ingeniously suppressed or modified: the Emperor frequently remarked that the Governor possesses a peculiar talent for business of this sort. I will here retrace this note from recollection. Though I read it only once, namely, at the time when I translated it to the Emperor, yet I think I can vouch for the following being an accurate representation of its contents.

“The Frenchmen who wished to remain with General Bonaparte, were required to sign the formula which should be presented to them, and by which they would subject themselves to all the restrictions imposed on the General. This obligation was to be regarded as perpetual. Those who should refuse to enter into this agreement were to be sent to the Cape of Good Hope. Four individuals were to be removed from the suite of General Bonaparte. Those who might remain were to be considered as though they were Englishmen by birth, and to be subject to the laws established for securing the safe custody of General Bonaparte; that is to say, they would incur the punishment of death by conniving at his escape. Any Frenchmen who might use insulting language or reflections, or behave so as to give offence to the Governor or the Government, would be immediately removed to the Cape of Good Hope, without being provided with the means of returning to Europe: the whole expense of the voyage devolving on himself.”

During dinner, and the greater part of the evening, these documents became the subject of conversation.

We were much amused by that passage in the Governor’s letter which transmitted the ministerial instructions, and informed us that those who might be wanting in respect for the Governor, or render themselves obnoxious, would be removed to the Cape, and the expense attending their return to Europe was to be defrayed by themselves. We thought this very droll, and the Emperor said, “Of course this threat appears to you very extraordinary and ridiculous; but no doubt it was perfectly natural to Lord Bathurst. I dare say he could not imagine a more terrible punishment. It is a true shopkeeper idea!”

The Emperor concluded the evening by reading to us Adelaide Duguesclin, which contains a fine rhodomontade upon the Bourbons.

After reading it, the Emperor said, “During the time of my power, an order was given for suppressing the performance of this drama, under the idea that it would be offensive to me. This circumstance accidentally came to my knowledge, and I ordered the piece to be revived. Many things of the same kind took place; people often acted very unwisely under the idea that they were serving or pleasing me.”

I transcribe here the restrictions to which I have just alluded. They are curious in themselves, and will serve better than volumes of description, to give a just idea of our situation; but what enhances the value of this document is that the observations which accompany each article were made by the Emperor himself.

RESTRICTIONS drawn up by Sir Hudson Lowe, and transmitted to Longwood on the 19th of October, 1816, but which he had already put into execution by different secret orders, since the preceding month of August, though he never communicated them to the English officers on duty, doubtless, because he was ashamed of them.

TEXT OF THE RESTRICTIONS.

“1st.—Longwood, with the road by Hut’s Gate, along the hill, as far as the signal-post near Alarm-House, are to be fixed as boundaries.“

OBSERVATION. Sir Hudson Lowe’s predecessor had extended the boundary line to the summits of the hills; but in about a fortnight, he perceived that, by removing the sentinels to a little further distance, the house and garden of Secretary-general Brook would be included within the boundaries, and he immediately gave orders for the change.

At about forty fathoms from the road-side is Corbett’s garden, which contains about eight or ten oak trees and a fountain; thus affording a cool and agreeable shade.[32] According to the new restrictions, which confined him to the high-road, a line is substituted for a surface, and the secretary’s house and Corbett’s garden are excluded from the boundaries.

Footnote 32:

In the very spot here described by Napoleon is his grave.

“2d.—Sentinels will mark the boundary lines, which nobody must pass to approach the house or grounds of Longwood, without the Governor’s permission.”

OBSERVATION. By the regulations which were first laid down, respecting our establishment at St. Helena, and which were approved by the English Governor, persons were admitted to Longwood in the following manner: The Governor, the Admiral, the Colonel commanding the regiment and the camp, the two members of the East India Company’s Council, and the Secretary-general, who were the persons highest in authority on the island, might pass the line of sentinels without any order or permission whatever. The inhabitants of the Island were required to have a pass from the Governor; naval men to be furnished with one from their Admiral, and military with one from their colonel; and finally, the inhabitants, sailors, and officers might all come to Longwood by the permission of Count Bertrand, when the Emperor wished to receive them. This arrangement, which continued for eight months, was attended by no inconvenience. By the present regulation (which has been in force since the month of August, though it was not formally communicated to us until we were furnished with the list of new restrictions,) we may be said to be kept in solitary confinement, and cut off from all intercourse with the inhabitants. The latter, the officers and seamen are all equally averse to the idea of being obliged to solicit the Governor’s permission to visit Longwood, and to subject themselves to an interrogatory respecting the motive of their visit. Strangers, whether civil or military, officers, touching at St. Helena on their passage from India, and who might be desirous of seeing the Emperor, usually applied to Count Bertrand, who appointed the day and the hour when they would be received. During their stay in the island they were regarded as citizens, and with the permission of Count Bertrand, they might when they pleased visit Longwood; and it may once more be observed that this arrangement subsisted for eight months without being attended by any inconvenience. If any strangers touching at the island might excite the suspicion of the Governor, he could prevent them from landing, or passing the first post. Finally, the Governor, by the report of the sentinels, was daily made acquainted with the names of the persons who visited Longwood. But in the month of August, the Governor sought to impose on us the obligation of receiving strangers, to whom he wished to render himself agreeable, and also of receiving them at the time he might think proper to appoint. This was putting the finishing stroke to all his offensive conduct! To put a stop to all these insults, the Emperor found himself obliged to declare that he would in future receive no one.

“3d.—The road to the left of Hut’s Gate, which turns off by Woodridge to Longwood, never having been frequented by General Bonaparte since the arrival of the Governor, the post by which it was observed, will be in a great measure withdrawn. But whenever the General may wish to ride on horseback in this direction, on giving timely notice to the officer he will experience no obstacle.“

OBSERVATION.—In the first observation it was proved that the limits had been contracted in this quarter; and, by this third article, they are still more circumscribed. To say that the valley has not been frequented for six months is a strange reason for adopting this decision. It is certainly true that Napoleon has for several months declined going out, in consequence of the harassing conduct of the Governor; but it must also be observed that one part of the valley is not accessible in rainy weather, and that in the other part a camp has been formed. Yet Lord Bathurst stated, in his speech in Parliament, that “this road had been prohibited, when it was found that he (General Bonaparte) had abused the confidence which had been reposed in him, and had endeavoured to corrupt the inhabitants of the island.” But here Lord Bathurst contradicts Sir Hudson Lowe. The offer of permission to ride in the valley, whenever it may be wished, is a mere pretence; the forms prescribed for the attainment of this permission render it impossible. This offer never has been, and never can be, fulfilled. The ride in the valley being thus prohibited, it has become impossible to visit Miss Mason’s garden, in which there are some large trees which afford agreeable shade. Within the boundaries to which the captives are now restricted, there is not a single spot in which they can enjoy the sight of trees or water: sentinels are posted at different distances throughout the boundaries; and, under the pretence of misunderstanding in the orders, &c., any individual may be arrested. This has frequently happened to the French officers.

“4th. If he (General Bonaparte) should wish to prolong his ride in any other directions, an officer of the Governor’s staff (if he receives timely notice) will be in readiness to attend him. If the notice should be short, the officer on duty at Longwood may take the place of the staff-officer.

“The inspecting officer has orders not to approach General Bonaparte, at least unless he be asked for; and not to watch him in his rides, except so far as his duty requires; that is to say, he must observe that the established rules are not violated; and if they should be transgressed, he must intimate the circumstance in a respectful way”

OBSERVATION. This regulation is useless. The Emperor will not go out so long as he sees there is a wish to subject him to direct and public inspection. Besides, the staff-officers have orders to report all that the French may say when in conversation with them. This affords opportunities for calumny. Several English officers have refused to act this dishonourable part, declaring that they would not degrade themselves to the level of spies, and repeat the conversations that may take place in the unguarded confidence of a ride or walk.

“5th. The rules already in force, for preventing communications with any one whatever, without the Governor’s permission, must be strictly enforced. Consequently, it is requisite that General Bonaparte should abstain from entering into any conversation (except such as the interchange of customary salutations may demand) with the persons whom he may happen to meet, unless it be in the presence of an English officer.“

OBSERVATION.—Hitherto this extremity of insult had been avoided. The Emperor does not acknowledge, either in the Governor or his agents, the right of imposing any restrictions on him. But what is the object of this article? To insult and degrade the character of the captives!—to give rise to disputes between them and the sentinels. To prohibit them from speaking to any one, or entering any house, is, in fact, a moral annulment of the circuit allowed them. This is so extraordinary that we are now actually induced to believe, what many persons have already suspected, that Sir Hudson Lowe is occasionally subject to fits of lunacy.

“6th.—Those persons who, with the consent of General Bonaparte, may receive the Governor’s permission to visit him, must not communicate with any individual of his suite, unless a permission to that effect be specially expressed.”

OBSERVATION.—This is useless; for nobody has been received since the present Governor abolished the regulations which were established by his predecessor. However, the consequence of this restriction is that, if Napoleon should receive a stranger, as none of his officers can be present, and none of his servants in attendance, he would be reduced to the necessity of opening the doors himself. Besides, as the Emperor does not understand English, it follows, if the individual admitted to him should not speak French, that they must both remain mute, and thus the interview would be reduced to a mere exhibition.

“7th.—At sunset, the garden round Longwood is to be regarded as the extent of the boundaries. At that time sentinels will be posted at the limits of the garden; but so as not to incommode General Bonaparte by observing his motions, should he wish to continue his walks. During the night, sentinels will be stationed close to the house, as they formerly were; and all admission must be prohibited until the sentinels are withdrawn from the house and garden on the following morning.”

OBSERVATION.—During the excessively hot season, the only time when it is possible to walk is after sun-set. In order to avoid meeting the sentinels, the Emperor finds it necessary to return to the house while it is still broad day-light; though the heat of the sun has rendered it impossible for him to go out during the day, as the grounds round Longwood are without shade, water, or verdure. According to this new restriction, the Emperor cannot enjoy a walk in the evening; while he is likewise deprived of the exercise of riding on horseback. He is confined in a small house, in all respects insufficient for his accommodation, badly built, unwholesomely situated, and without a supply of water; and, in addition to all this, every opportunity is taken to expose him to insult and disrespect. His constitution, though naturally robust, is very much enfeebled by the treatment he experiences.

“8th.—Every letter for Longwood will be enclosed by the Governor in a sealed envelope, and forwarded to the officer on duty, to be delivered, sealed, to the officer of General Bonaparte’s suite to whom it is addressed, who by this means will be assured that nobody except the Governor knows its contents.

“In like manner, letters from any of the residents of Longwood must be delivered to the officer on duty, enclosed in a second sealed envelope and addressed to the Governor, which will be a security that no individual except the latter can peruse its contents.

“No letter can be written or sent, and no communication of any kind whatever can be made, except in the manner above mentioned. No correspondence can be maintained with any individual in the island, except for the necessary communications to the purveyor. The notes containing these communications must be delivered open to the officer on duty, who will forward them to the proper quarter.

“The above-mentioned restrictions will be observed from the date of the 10th inst.

“H. LOWE.“

“_St. Helena, October 9th, 1816._“

OBSERVATION.—This last restriction has no reference to the Emperor, who neither writes nor receives letters. A simple explanation is, therefore, all that is required. Will the observations that may be contained in the confidential letters from the Emperor’s officers to their friends be regarded as offensive? When those who may read these letters shall be convinced that they are in no way hostile to the safety or policy of the state, will they forget their contents, so that they may never become the subject of conversation or abuse? This explanation will decide whether all correspondence is, or is not, to be considered as prohibited. The seizure of the person of Count Las Cases completely justifies this observation.

The object of the 8th article of the restrictions, as the inquisitorial system established on the island sufficiently proves, is to prevent the European journals from giving publicity to the criminal conduct that is pursued here. A vast deal of trouble is taken to secure this object: it would have been far easier to have acted in such a way as to render concealment unnecessary. A letter addressed to Count Bertrand, dated the 1st of July, 1816, goes to still greater lengths; for it prohibits even verbal communications with the inhabitants of the island. This is the delirium of fury and hatred; or rather, it may be said to be a proof of downright madness. The regulation here alluded to is but a trifling example of the vexations to which we are exposed, and the invention of which seems to be the sole occupation of the present Governor. Can Lord Bathurst now affirm that Sir H. Lowe has imposed no restriction; that the instructions of the English ministry were of a nature advantageous to Napoleon and his suite, and had no other object than that of securing their safe custody? In consequence of this absurd and insulting treatment, the Emperor has not enjoyed exercise without doors for several months. His medical attendants foresee that this confinement will prove fatal to his constitution. It is a more certain, and far more inhuman, mode of assassination, than poison or the sword. [What a horrible prophecy!]

ANXIETY OCCASIONED BY THE NEW RESTRICTIONS.—ANECDOTES OF CAMPO-FORMIO.—MM. DE COBENTZEL, GALLO, AND CLARKE.—THE COUNT D’ANTRAIGUES.

10th.—This morning we had agreed to meet together at the Grand Marshal’s, to deliberate on the restrictions which the Governor had recently transmitted to us, and to adopt a uniform resolution. I was unwell, and could not attend. I, however, wrote down my opinion: I stated that in the delicate situation in which I was placed I could do nothing; I could arrive at no positive conclusion; I always found 0—0.

The point in question was, indeed, of the most serious and difficult nature. We were required to subject ourselves to new restrictions, to place ourselves under the dependence of the Governor, who shamefully abused his power, employed the most insulting language towards the Emperor, and announced that we must submit to every grievance, under pain of being immediately separated from Napoleon, sent to the Cape, and thence to Europe.

On the other hand, the Emperor, indignant at the mortifications to which we were exposed on his account, insisted that we should no longer submit to them. He urged us rather to quit him, and to return to Europe, to bear witness that we had seen him absolutely buried alive.

But how could we for a moment endure this thought! Death was preferable to separation from him whom we served, admired, and loved; to whom we daily became more and more attached, through his personal qualities, and the miseries which injustice and hatred had accumulated upon him. This was the real state of the question. In these distressing circumstances, we knew not what determination to adopt. I closed my letter by stating that, if left to myself alone, I would sign, without scruple, any thing that the Governor might present to me; and that, if a collective resolution were taken, I would implicitly adopt it.

The Governor had now found out a method of attacking us in detail: he declared his intention of removing any individual of Napoleon’s suite according to his will and caprice.

The Emperor was indisposed: the Doctor has observed incipient scurvy. He desired me to attend him, and we conversed on the subjects which chiefly occupied our attention at the moment. He wanted something to amuse him, and he took up the chapter of Leoben, which happened to be beside him. When he had finished reading it, the conversation turned on the conferences which brought about the treaty of Campo-Formio. I refer to the chapters on that subject for the portrait and character of the first Austrian negotiator, M. de Cobentzel, whom Napoleon surnamed the “_great northern bear_,” on account of the influence which, he said, his heavy paw had exercised on the green table of the conferences.

“M. de Cobentzel was at that time,” said the Emperor, “the agent of the Austrian monarchy, the main spring of its plans, and the director of its diplomacy. He had been appointed on all the principal European embassies, and had been long at the Court of Catharine, whose peculiar favour he enjoyed. Proud of his rank and importance, he doubted not that his dignified and courtly manners would easily overawe a General who had just issued from the revolutionary camp. Thus,” observed Napoleon, “he shewed a want of respect in addressing the French General; but the first words uttered by the latter sufficed to reduce him to his proper level, above which he never afterwards attempted to rise.”

The conferences at first proceeded very slowly; for M. de Cobentzel, according to the custom of the Austrian Cabinet, proved himself very skilful in the art of retarding business. The French General, however, determined to bring matters to an issue: the conference, which he had declared should be the last, was maintained with great warmth. Napoleon came, resolved to have a decisive answer to his propositions; they were rejected. He then rose in a fit of passion, and exclaimed energetically: “You wish for war then?—You shall have it:” and laying his hands on a magnificent piece of porcelain (which M. de Cobentzel used with great complacency to boast of having received as a present from the great Catharine), he dashed it with all his force on the ground, where it was broken into a thousand pieces. “There,” he exclaimed, “such, I promise you, will be the fate of your Austrian monarchy in less than three months:” and so saying, he rushed out of the apartment. M. de Cobentzel stood petrified; but M. de Gallo, who was of a more conciliatory temper, followed the French General to his carriage, endeavouring to detain him. “He almost dragged me back by main force,” said the Emperor, “and with so pitiable an air, that, in spite of my apparent anger, I could not refrain from laughing in my sleeve.”

M. de Gallo was the ambassador from Naples to Vienna, whither he had conducted the Neapolitan Princess, the second wife of the Emperor Francis. He possessed the full confidence of the Princess, and she, in her turn, ruled her husband: thus the ambassador enjoyed great influence at the Court of Vienna. When the army of Italy, marching on Vienna, dictated the armistice of Leoben, the Empress, at this critical juncture, cast her eyes on her confident, and charged him to avert the danger. He was to gain an interview with the French General, as if accidentally, and to endeavour to prevail on him to accept his services as a negotiator. Napoleon, who was well acquainted with every circumstance, determined to turn his knowledge to a good account. Accordingly, on receiving M. de Gallo, he inquired who he was. The favourite courtier, disconcerted to find himself under the necessity of telling his name, replied that he was the Marquess de Gallo, and that he had been charged by the Emperor of Austria to make overtures to Napoleon. “But,” said the latter, “your name is not German.” “True,” replied M. de Gallo,” I am the Neapolitan ambassador.” “And how happens it,” said Napoleon drily, “that I have to treat with Naples? We are at peace. Has the Emperor of Austria no negotiators of the old school? Is the old aristocracy of Vienna extinct?” M. de Gallo, alarmed at the idea of such observations being officially communicated to the Cabinet of Vienna, now became intent on ingratiating himself into the favour of the young General.

Napoleon enquired what news had been received from Vienna, and spoke of the armies of the Rhine, the Sambre, and the Meuse. He obtained all the intelligence he could; and, when he was about to withdraw, M. de Gallo, in the most suppliant tone, inquired whether he might hope to be accepted as a negotiator, and whether he should proceed to Vienna to obtain full powers. Napoleon had no wish to decline this proposal; he had gained an advantage which he was not willing to lose. M. de Gallo, who subsequently became ambassador from Naples to the First Consul, and also ambassador from Joseph to the Emperor Napoleon, frequently mentioned this scene, and frankly avowed that he had never been so frightened in the whole course of his life.

In the French negotiations, Clarke acted the same kind of secondary part which M. de Gallo maintained with regard to Austria. “Clarke,” said the Emperor, “had been sent to Italy by the Directory, which had begun to consider me as dangerous. He was charged with an ostensible and public mission; but he had secret orders to keep an eye upon me, and to ascertain if, in case of necessity, it would be possible to arrest me. But little reliance could have been placed on the officers of my army, in an affair of this kind, and therefore the first inquiries were addressed to the Cisalpine Directory. The answer was that it would be as well to spare trouble on this point, and to give up all idea of it. As soon as I was made acquainted with Clarke’s real instructions, I frankly told him all I knew; at the same time assuring him that I should concern myself but very little about any reports that might be made. He was soon convinced of this. When, on his mission to Austria, he was dismissed, by that Power, I offered to find employment for him, and he afterwards remained with me; though perhaps there was, in reality, but little sympathy between us. I should undoubtedly have again taken him into my service, after my return, if I had found him in the ranks along with the rest. You know that I could not easily rid myself of those to whom I had become accustomed: when people had once embarked with me, I could never prevail on myself to throw them overboard. Nothing but absolute necessity could force me to such a course. Clarke’s chief merit was that of being a good man of business.”

After Brumaire, Clarke naturally came in contact with the First Consul as his aid-de-camp, &c. There was then little etiquette observed at the palace; the duties were not distinctly separated, and the whole presented a kind of family circle. The officers immediately connected with the Consul dined at a general table. Clarke, who was extremely susceptible and punctilious, got involved in quarrels with one of these persons. The circumstance having reached the ears of the First Consul, he appointed Clarke ambassador to Florence, to the court of the Queen of Etruria. This post was in itself highly agreeable; but Clarke had been appointed to it by way of disgrace. He urgently solicited his recal; and, at length, to his great satisfaction, he received an order to return to France. But his punishment was not yet at an end. The First Consul took but little notice of him: he sent him to the Tuileries, to St. Cloud, and to the camp of Boulogne, without explaining his intentions, or granting him any thing. Clarke, in despair, told one of his friends that he had no alternative but to throw himself into the Seine, as he could no longer endure the contempt to which he was exposed, added to the mortification of being deprived of his situation. Just at this time he was unexpectedly made Secretary of the Topographical Cabinet, Councillor of State, and appointed to some other posts, which altogether produced him a salary of 60 or 80,000 francs. This was Napoleon’s way: his first favour was usually followed immediately by several others. In these cases his bounty was overwhelming. But it was necessary to take advantage of the interval of favour; it might be endless, or it might be instantly and irretrievably lost.

I knew General Clarke well; he had been my comrade at the Military School. He informed me that, some days before the battle of Jena, the Emperor, from whose dictation he had just written numerous orders and instructions, entering into a familiar conversation, while he walked up and down his chamber, said: “In three or four days I will fight a battle, which I shall gain: it will bring me at least as far as the Elbe, and perhaps to the Vistula. There I will fight a second battle, which I shall also gain. Then ... then ...,” said he, with a meditative air, and placing his hand on his forehead ... “but that is enough; it is useless to invent romances,—Clarke, in a month you will be Governor of Berlin; and history will record that, in the space of one year, and in two different wars, you were Governor of Vienna and Berlin; that is to say, of the Austrian and Prussian monarchies. By the bye,” continued he, smiling, “what did Francis give you for governing his capital?”—“Nothing at all, Sire.”—“How, nothing at all?—That was hard indeed! Well, in that case, I must pay his debt.” And he gave him, as far as I can recollect, a sum sufficient to purchase an hotel in Paris, or a country house in the vicinity of the capital.

The course of events exceeded even Napoleon’s expectations. He fought but one battle, which brought him to Berlin, and enabled him to advance to the Vistula.

“Clarke,” said Napoleon, “possessed a strong taste for family parchments. At Florence he spent a great portion of his time in investigating my genealogy. He also took great pains to trace out his own, and I believe he at length persuaded himself that he was related to the whole Faubourg Saint-Germain. Doubtless he has a much higher opinion of his own dignity, now that he is the Minister of a legitimate King than he had when he was merely the Minister of an upstart Emperor. It is said that he at present enjoys great favour; I wish it may last. It commenced a few days before my arrival at Paris, when the cause of the King was desperate. It certainly appeared useless to accept a ministry when all was lost; but I have nothing to say against that. This sort of conduct may have its fair side; yet it is necessary to observe some degree of decorum, and in that Clarke was wholly wanting. However, I willingly forgive him in all that concerns me.... In 1813 and 1814 some persons endeavoured to inspire me with doubts of Clarke’s fidelity; but I never would listen to any thing of the kind. I always believed him to be an honest man.” The intimate friends of the Duke de Feltre can bear witness that Napoleon was correct in the opinion he had formed of the character of his minister.

The Duke de Feltre, on communicating to the Emperor the intelligence of the arrival of the Count d’Artois in Switzerland, advised him to make peace. Napoleon replied, under date of 22d of February, 1814:—“As to your advice of making peace, it is too absurd: it is by cherishing such notions as this that public spirit is destroyed. Besides, it is supposing me either mad or stupid to imagine that, if I could conclude peace, I would not immediately do it. To the prevailing notion that it has been in my power to make peace for four months past, but that I declined doing so, must be attributed all the misfortunes of France. I expected, at least, to have been spared the pain of hearing such sentiments expressed.”

The Emperor, reverting to the events of Campo-Formio, alluded to the arrest of the Count d’Antraigues, the papers that were found upon him, and the discoveries to which they gave rise; he also mentioned the indulgence which the Count experienced, and the treachery with which that indulgence was repaid.

The Count d’Antraigues, who was a man of considerable talent, fond of intrigue, and endowed with personal advantages, had acquired a certain degree of importance at the commencement of our Revolution. He was a member of the right hand side of the Constituent Assembly, and he emigrated at the time of its dissolution. At the period when the French were about to assail Venice, the Count d’Antraigues was residing there, where he held a diplomatic appointment from the Russian Government, and was the main spring and agent of all the machinations that were plotting against France. On seeing the danger of the Venetian Republic, he attempted to escape; but he fell in with one of our posts, and was seized, with all his papers. The General-in-chief appointed a special commission to examine these documents, and the secrets which they unfolded were the subject of great astonishment. They contained, among other things, full proof of the treason of Pichegru, who had sacrificed his troops to facilitate the operations of the enemy. “Pichegru,” exclaimed the Emperor indignantly, “was guilty of the most odious crime that can possibly be conceived, that of coldly sacrificing the men whose lives had been entrusted to his honour and discretion.”

The Count d’Antraigues, finding that all his secrets were discovered, conducted himself with so much address and apparent candour, that Napoleon, conceiving he had gained him over, or, to speak more properly, suffering himself to be gained over by the Count, treated him with the utmost indulgence. He defended him against the proceedings of the Directory, which insisted on having him shot, and the Count was allowed to proceed to Milan on his parole. But what was Napoleon’s surprise on learning that M. d‘Antraigues had escaped to Switzerland, and had published an infamous libel against him, reproaching him with ill-treatment, and complaining of having been confined in chains? These falsehoods occasioned so much indignation that several foreign diplomatists, who knew how Napoleon had really acted towards the Count, spontaneously made a public declaration of what they had witnessed.

So late as the year 1814, the Count d‘Antraigues died in England, in a horrible way, being assassinated by his valet-de-chambre in the presence of his wife, who was the celebrated singer Saint Huberti.

At the time of the seizure of the Count d‘Antraigues‘ papers, Pichegru was at the head of the Legislative Body, and was almost at open war with the Directory. It may well be supposed that the members of the Directory were highly gratified by thus obtaining important and authentic documents against their adversaries. This discovery greatly influenced Napoleon in the course which he adopted in the events of Fructidor: it was one of the principal causes of his famous proclamation, which brought about the triumph of the Directory.

Desaix, who was serving under Moreau in the army of the Rhine, having taken advantage of the armistice to introduce himself to the General-in-chief of the army of Italy, for whom he had conceived the highest admiration, was with Napoleon at the time of the important discovery above mentioned. Napoleon having informed him of the treason of Pichegru, Desaix observed; “But we knew all this on the Rhine three months ago. A waggon, belonging to General Klinglin’s corps, which fell into our hands, furnished us with all Pichegru’s correspondence with the enemies of the Republic.”—“And did Moreau give no intimation of this to the Directory?” “No.”—“Then he is very blameable,” exclaimed Napoleon; “when the safety of one’s country is at stake silence is guilt!” After Pichegru’s fall, Moreau communicated to the Directory all he knew respecting the conspiracy, at the same time pronouncing a severe reprobation on those who were concerned in it. “This was but another instance of misconduct,” said Napoleon; “by not speaking earlier, he betrayed his country; and by speaking so late, he merely struck a blow at one who was already fallen.”

THE EMPEROR’S DREAM.

11th—12th. The produce of the sale of a portion of plate, amounting to 6000 francs, was this day received. This sum the Emperor considered indispensible to make up our deficiencies at the expiration of every month; and he ordered the sale to be repeated regularly.

The Emperor continues very ill, and is in very low spirits. To-day he did not leave his room until dinner-time. He conversed very little, and did not apply himself to any kind of occupation. I remained with him the greater part of the day. He spoke frequently of the situation in which we stood with respect to the Governor, and made some very remarkable observations on that subject. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

After dinner he mentioned a dream which he had had during the night. A lady with whom he had been but little acquainted (Madame Clarke, Duchess de Feltre) appeared to him in his dream, and told him she was dead, at the same time adding several observations which were expressed in language perfectly connected and intelligible. “Every thing was so clear and distinct,” said the Emperor, “that it has made a forcible impression on me; so much so that if I were really to hear of the death of the Duchess de Feltre, I must confess that my established ideas would be shaken; and perhaps,” said he, smiling and looking at one of the company, “I too should become a believer in dreams and apparitions.”

The Emperor ate little; his spirits were depressed, and he was evidently very ill. He retired almost immediately, and his manner affected us greatly. We could not help remarking how much he was altered.

PRIVATIONS TO WHICH THE EMPEROR IS SUBJECTED.—HIS CLAIMS ON PRINCE EUGENE.

13th.—The Emperor came to me about ten o’clock. He looked in at my room-door, and blamed me for not having risen earlier. He found me using the foot-bath for I was not well. I soon joined him beneath the tent, where he wished to breakfast. He told me he had given orders for drawing up some notes relative to the new restrictions, to prevent condemnation being passed on us without a sort of responsibility being attached to those who passed the sentence. He then proceeded to calculate the lots of plate which remain to be sold, and the period during which they would serve to maintain us. I repeated the offers which I have already several times made, telling him that it was hard he should be reduced to the necessity of disposing of his plate; but he replied,—“My dear Las Cases, under whatever circumstances I may be placed, those articles of luxury are never of any importance to me; and as far as regards others, that is to say, as far as regards the public, simplicity will always be my best ornament.” He added that he could, after all, claim the assistance of Prince Eugène; and that he was even inclined to write to him for the loans which would be necessary for his subsistence when the plate should be exhausted. He also expressed his intention of commissioning Eugène to forward to him some important books which he wished to have sent from London, together with a small quantity of choice wine, which it was necessary he should take as a medicine. “This commission for wine,” said he, will make our enemies in Europe say that we think of nothing here but eating and drinking.” He said that he should feel no hesitation in addressing himself on this subject to Eugène, who owed to him every thing he possessed; and that it would be insulting the character of the Prince to doubt his readiness to serve him, particularly as he had, besides, a legal claim upon him for about ten or twelve millions.

While we were at breakfast, the Emperor sent for the Pole, who is soon to leave us. After breakfast he wished to employ himself in reading or dictating; but he felt very drowsy, and fell asleep several times. He retired to his chamber, to lie down for a while, desiring me to attend him at one o’clock for his English lesson. But when the appointed hour arrived, he was still in the same state of drowsiness; and he only succeeded in rousing himself by taking a bath, in which, according to custom, he remained for a long time. It is surprising that this practice, joined to that of taking very hot baths, does not prove injurious to him.

The Emperor ate but little dinner, and he complained of not enjoying regular and sound rest. He conversed for some time on the subject of balloons, and laughed at those biographical notices which represent him as having forced himself, sword in hand, into the balloon of the military school. He mentioned, as a sort of prodigy, the circumstance of the balloon which ascended at his coronation having fallen, in the space of a few hours, in the neighbourhood of Rome, bearing intelligence of the ceremony to the inhabitants of that city.

The Emperor took up Don Quixote; but he closed the book in about half an hour: he cannot now apply himself to reading for a longer interval. His health visibly declines. He often observes to me that we are both growing very old, and that he is much the older of the two: these words tell a great deal.

THE REQUIRED DECLARATION IS SENT TO THE GOVERNOR.—THE EMPEROR REMARKS THAT MANY MODERN BOOKS ARE MERELY BOOKSELLERS‘ SPECULATIONS.—FALSE NOTIONS CREATED BY PARTY SPIRIT.—GENERAL MAISON.

14th.—To-day the Grand Marshal forwarded to the Governor the new declarations which he required us to make. They were all alike, and were as follows:

“I, the undersigned, hereby declare that I wish to remain at St. Helena, and to share the restrictions which are imposed on the Emperor Napoleon personally.”

About one o’clock I went to attend the Emperor in his chamber. I gave him an account of some private commissions. He was reading a work on the government of France. He thought it very indifferent, and observed that, since he had been in the habit of perusing new publications, he had found them, for the most part, to be merely matters of speculation,—things got up for sale by booksellers. The world, he said, was now threatened with a deluge of bad books, and he saw no remedy that could effectually counteract so great an evil.

After having dressed, the Emperor repaired to the drawing-room, where he looked over a few English newspapers, and read some lines of Telemachus. But he felt fatigued and low-spirited, and suspended his reading. We discoursed on several subjects which intimately concerned the Emperor, who closed the conversation by several times repeating,—“_Poor human nature!_”

During another interval of conversation, Napoleon, taking a review of several well-known individuals, on whom he pronounced his opinion, alluded to one, whom he represented as being a most immoral and base character. I happened to be acquainted with this person, and I observed that I knew him to be quite the reverse of what I had just heard described. I was defending the individual in question with considerable warmth when the Emperor interrupted me, saying: “I give full credit to what you say; but I had heard a different account of him: and though I generally made it a rule to hear things of this kind with suspicion, yet you see I could not always avoid retaining some impression of what I heard. Was this my fault? When I had no particular motive for inquiry, how could I arrive at the knowledge of facts? This,” continued he, “is the inevitable consequence of civil commotions: there are always two reputations between the two parties. What absurdities, what ridiculous stories, are related of the individuals who figured in our Revolution![33] The saloons of Paris are full of them. I have had my full share of this kind of scandal. After me who can have any right to complain? Yet I protest that nothing of this sort ever produced any influence on my mind, or occasioned me in any instance to alter my determinations, &c.”

Footnote 33:

I take this opportunity of correcting an error of the nature here alluded to. In a preceding part of this work, it is stated that M. Monge ascended the Jacobinical tribune, &c. The friends and relatives of that distinguished man have, however, assured me that all who knew him at the time in question can bear witness that he never appeared among them, and that he never spoke in any public assembly. I feel pleasure in mentioning this circumstance; for nothing affords me greater happiness than to be the means of developing truth.

After alluding to several military officers, the Emperor mentioned General Maison. “His manœuvres,” said he, “round Lille, in the crisis of 1814, attracted my attention, and fixed him in my recollection. He was not with us in 1815. What became of him? Where was he at that time?”—I could not answer these questions, as I did not know the General.

DIFFICULTIES STARTED BY THE GOVERNOR RESPECTING OUR DECLARATIONS.—THE EMPEROR’S SENTIMENTS ON THAT SUBJECT.—THE GOVERNOR’S CONVERSATION WITH EACH INDIVIDUAL OF THE EMPEROR’S SUITE.—NAPOLEON’S REMARK.—CONSUMMATION OF OUR SLAVERY.

15th. For some time past I have found it impossible to sleep; and I have passed whole nights without closing my eyes. About eight o’clock this morning, as I was endeavouring to compose myself to rest, the Grand Marshal entered my chamber, to inform me that the Governor had sent back our declarations, and was coming himself to oblige us to sign that which he had sent as a model, and which differed from ours only with respect to the title which we gave to the Emperor. It was wished that we should designate him merely by the name _Bonaparte_.

The Grand Marshal proceeded to the Emperor’s apartments, whither I was almost immediately summoned. On entering, I found the Emperor walking about and expressing himself with great warmth. All the individuals of the suite were assembled together. “The insults,” said he, “which are daily heaped upon those who have devoted themselves to me, insults which, it is very probable, will be multiplied to a still greater extent, present a spectacle which I cannot and must not longer endure. Gentlemen, you must leave me; I cannot see you submit to the restrictions which are about to be imposed on you, and which will doubtless soon be augmented. I will remain here alone. Return to Europe, and make known the horrible treatment to which I am exposed; bear witness that you saw me sinking into a premature grave. I will not allow any one of you to sign this declaration in the form that is required. I forbid it. It shall never be said that hands which I had the power to command were employed in recording my degradation. If obstacles are raised respecting a mere foolish formality, others will be started to-morrow for an equally trivial cause. It is determined to remove you in detail; but I would rather see you removed altogether and at once. Perhaps this sacrifice may produce a result.” With these words he dismissed us, and we withdrew overwhelmed with dismay.

In a few moments the Emperor again sent for me. He was walking up and down, through the whole length of his two little rooms. There was a peculiar tenderness in the tone of his voice, and I never observed more easy familiarity in his manner. “Well, my dear Las Cases,” said he, “I am going to turn hermit,” “Sire,” said I, “are you not one already? What resources does our society present to you? We can only offer you prayers and good wishes; which, though they can contribute but little to your consolation, are every thing to us. Our present situation is the most distressing that can possibly be conceived; for, in the question under consideration, we now perhaps, for the first time, find it difficult to obey your Majesty. You hold the language of reason; while we are guided only by sentiment. The arguments which you just now addressed to us admit of no reply. Your determination is in unison with your character; it will astonish no one, but its execution is beyond our power. The thought of leaving you here alone exceeds in horror all that our imagination can picture.”—“Such, however, is my fate,“ replied the Emperor calmly, “and I must prepare for the worst: my mind is strong enough to meet it. They will cut short my life; that is certain.”—“Sire,” I observed, “the step which you command is not to be thought of. To the last moment I will speak out as your Majesty has done: on this point I will resist to the utmost; but I shall find it impossible to act as I speak.”

The Emperor seated himself, and desired me to sit down beside him. He observed that he was much fatigued; and he ordered breakfast, desiring me to stay with him. For a considerable time past, I had not been in the habit of dining with him; he told me the reason why I had been denied this happiness; and I considered it as a favour that he should condescend to tell me. When the coffee was brought in, there was no cup for me. Marchand was going to fetch one; but the Emperor called him back, saying: “Take that one from the mantel-piece: he shall drink out of my handsome gold cup.”[34]

Footnote 34:

This was the cup belonging to his dressing-table, which stood on the chimney-piece as an ornament.

I have now the happiness of possessing the saucer belonging to this cup. M. Marchand, that faithful servant, to whom Napoleon declared himself so much attached, on his return from St. Helena, came and presented this saucer to me, in a manner that forcibly roused my gratitude and sensibility. “The beautiful cup,” said he, “out of which you sometimes drank, belonged to the Emperor’s dressing-table, and was accordingly restored to its place. The saucer, however, among other articles, fell to my share; and I now present it to you, being assured that you will feel as much pleasure in receiving as I have in giving it.”

Just as breakfast was over, the Grand Marshal entered and told us that the Governor had arrived, and had expressed a wish to see him at his (Bertrand‘s) new house, which is a very short distance from our establishment, and is at length on the point of being completed. The Emperor desired him to attend the Governor. The Grand Marshal, as he was about to withdraw, seemed desirous to know whether the Emperor still persisted in the orders he had given us this morning, in case the Governor should not yield. The Emperor sharply observed: “I am not a child; when I have once thoroughly considered a question, I no longer entertain two opinions upon it. I have directed battles which have decided the fate of empires, and the orders I issued were always the result of my mature deliberation. In this instance I am alone concerned. Go!”

The Grand Marshal soon returned with an account of the interview, which he had closed by his refusal. The Governor, he said, had desired to see the other three persons of the suite together; but we thought that it would be more proper to present ourselves in succession.

I went to wait on the Governor. I found him, surrounded by several of his attendants, in the garden, near the path leading to the Grand Marshal’s house. He withdrew on perceiving me; but I joined him in the court before the house.

As he had expressed himself very much irritated against me, I went as well fortified as I possibly could. He, however, conducted me with great politeness into the house, leaving the officers of his suite on the outside; and, having told me that he awaited the arrival of Messrs. de Montholon and Gourgaud, to enter upon the business, I asked him whether he had any objection to treat immediately with me. He replied that he had not; and, calling in his officers, he told me, in their presence, that I had no doubt learned from the Grand Marshal what he had to propose on the subject of my declaration. I replied in the affirmative, at the same time observing that I regarded the Grand Marshal as my model and guide, on account of his rank, as well as the respect and esteem I entertained for him, and therefore it was natural to expect that my answer should correspond with his. I added that I could not conceive why so much importance was attached to a mere matter of form, which was so painful to our feelings, while it could be of no service to those who insisted on it. “It is out of my power,” said the Governor, “to make the alteration you wish. I am directed to present to you for signature the declaration written in my hand: now I, being an Englishman, cannot write the title you wish.”—“I was not aware of that,” replied I; “to that argument I have no reply to make. You, as an Englishman, must write thus; but I, being a Frenchman, must sign in my language; that is to say, with the translation from yours. Allow me, therefore, to add to my signature any phrase that you may think proper to dictate to me, in which I can express myself in my own language. You may now judge,” added I, “whether I deal candidly, and whether I seek to create difficulties.” This proposal seemed to claim his attention. “We are now,” I continued, “merely disputing about words, which may appear very silly, considering the important circumstances in which we are placed; but, Sir, who created these difficulties? Who will suffer from them? Your refusal places us in a most distressing situation! You see me reduced to the utmost despair! To me separation from the Emperor would be worse than death; yet I would rather submit to it than suffer my hand to be the instrument of his degradation. The Emperor unites in himself all that constitutes an august character, in the eyes of God and man: to deny this would be to deny the light of the sun.”

The Governor observed that he, as an Englishman, could not acknowledge the Emperor; and I replied that I could urge no objection to that. I added that however much I might be hurt by his mode of designating the Emperor, yet I did not mean to question his right of using whatever terms he might think proper; and that, for the same reason, he ought not to object to my opinions and expressions, considering that I was a Frenchman, and that he demanded my signature.

Here Sir Hudson Lowe angrily alluded to some past circumstances relating to himself personally; and he observed that, after all, moral character was the only real title to respect. “At that rate, Governor,” replied I, with some warmth, and turning to the Officers who were in attendance, “the Emperor may divest himself of all his titles, and he will but gain in the opinion of the world, if his character be estimated by the scale to which you allude.” The Governor was silent: then, after a pause of a few moments, he observed that we still treated our General as though he were an Emperor. “And how can we treat him otherwise?”—“I mean to say, that you continue to look upon him as a Sovereign.”—“Governor, you talk of revering him as our Sovereign; we do more—we worship him! We now consider the Emperor as removed from this world; we view him as though he were in Heaven!... When you leave us a choice that is in opposition to him, it is like the choice given to martyrs, when they are commanded to renounce their faith or die. “Death, therefore, must be our alternative.” These words produced a visible impression on the officers who were present, and even on the Governor. Contrary to custom, his countenance assumed a mild expression, and the tone of his voice was softened.

“Our situation here,” continued I, “is so horrible as to be almost beyond endurance. You know this;—but what we now suffer is nothing to the misery which is reserved for us. What I ask will be no sacrifice to you, and it will be every thing to us. I implore you to grant what I request; and this is something, for you know I am not in the habit of soliciting favours from you. Make but this one concession, and you will claim my eternal gratitude. Besides, consider that a responsibility rests with you; that there is a public opinion in Europe, which you may forfeit without gaining any advantage in return. You cannot be a stranger to the sentiments which animate me; they must, I am sure, go to the hearts of all who listen to me.”

Here the Governor appeared somewhat moved; the officers were evidently affected. Sir Hudson Lowe, after a few moments‘ silence, bowed to me, and I took my leave.

Messrs. de Montholon and Gourgaud had each an interview in their turn; and we all four attended the Emperor during his toilet, without, however, being able to tell him whether any decision had been formed on the subject that so deeply interested us.

The Emperor expressed a wish to go out, though the wind was extremely boisterous: we all walked to the extremity of the wood. He took a review of the Governor’s conduct, making remarks upon it in the rapid and copious way peculiar to himself; and he concluded by saying that if to-day we should agree to sign the declaration, in order to avoid being separated from him, to-morrow another ground of expulsion would be brought forward; and that he should wish our removal to be effected forcibly and at once, rather than tranquilly and in detail. Then, suddenly assuming a tone of pleasantry, he said that, after all, he could hardly believe the Governor wished to reduce his subjects to one only; and what sort of subject would that one be! added he—an absolute porcupine, on which he would not dare to lay a finger.

During our walk, two strangers approached pretty near to us. The Emperor made some one enquire who they were, and he was informed that they belonged to a vessel which was about to sail to-morrow for Europe. The Emperor asked whether they were likely to see any of the Ministers on their arrival in London; and they replied that they should see Lord Bathurst. “Tell him,” said Napolean, “that his instructions with respect to my treatment here are most odious, and that his agent executes them with scrupulous fidelity. If he wished to get rid of me, he should have despatched me at a blow, instead of thus killing me by inches. This conduct is truly barbarous; there is nothing English in it; and I can only attribute it to some personal hatred. I have too much respect for the Prince Regent, the majority of the Ministers, and the English nation, to suppose that they are responsible for my treatment. Be this as it may, their power extends only to the body; the soul is beyond their reach: it will soar to Heaven even from the dungeon.”

The Emperor, on his return home, took a bath; he was fatigued and harassed by the events of the day. He fell asleep, and I watched beside him, meditating on our new grievances.

At dinner he ate but a little. Some one made an observation, and the Emperor, not having heard it distinctly, asked what had been said—a thing which frequently happens. The words were then repeated in a louder tone, upon which he observed: “I am certainly growing deaf, for I occasionally miss hearing what is said, and I feel inclined to be angry when people speak louder than usual.” He concluded the evening by reading a part of Don Quixote. He was much amused at some comic passages; and, laying down the book, he remarked that we certainly showed a great deal of courage, since we could laugh at such trifles under our present circumstances. He paused for some moments, and seemed deeply wrapped in thought: then rising, he withdrew, saying: “Adieu, my dear friends.”

During dinner, a letter had been delivered to me from the Grand Marshal; but I had kept it concealed, conceiving that it augured no good. I opened it as soon as the Emperor withdrew. It enclosed a letter from the Governor, announcing that if we still persisted in our refusal to sign the declaration, he would immediately give orders for our removal to Europe. We yielded to the dictates of our hearts: to determine on leaving the Emperor was beyond our power; while at the same time it would have been going beyond his wishes, and perhaps too beyond his orders. With unanimous sentiments, we eagerly signed the declarations in the form in which they were presented to us, and delivered them to the English officer on duty at Longwood, together with a letter to the Grand Marshal, acquainting him with what we had done without his

## participation. We had been guided solely by our feelings, and we trusted

that those feelings would afford us consolation, even though the Emperor should disapprove of the step we had taken.

We have now reached the consummation of our absolute slavery and dependence on the will and caprice of Sir Hudson Lowe; not merely by the signature we have just given him, but because he now knows our secret, and therefore it is in his power to compel us to submit to any thing he pleases.

ANECDOTES OF SIEYES.—THE EMPEROR FREQUENTLY ATTENDED POPULAR FESTIVITIES IN DISGUISE.—HIS VISITS TO THE FAUBOURG SAINT-ANTOINE, AFTER HIS RETURN FROM MOSCOW AND FROM THE ISLAND OF ELBA.—MANNERS DURING THE TIME OF THE DIRECTORY.—REMARKABLE OFFICIAL NOTE.

16th.—The Emperor sent for me about noon. He had been reading and was just finishing his coffee. He desired me to sit down, and he entered into conversation. Not a word escaped him that could lead me to suppose he knew the determination we had adopted yesterday evening; he made no allusion to the subject, and it was not mentioned throughout the whole of the day. After breakfast, the Emperor walked about his apartments. The turn of the conversation introduced some anecdotes of former times, of which Sieyes was the subject. The Emperor related that while Sieyes was chaplain to the Princes of Orleans, being one day engaged in performing mass, something unexpectedly occasioned the Princes to withdraw during the service; upon which the Abbé, looking up and seeing only the valets present, immediately closed his book, observing that he was not engaged to perform mass to the rabble.

“Your Majesty,” said I, “was the first who made me acquainted with the name and person of Sieyes. A few days after my presentation at Court, your Majesty, at one of your audiences, having passed by me, stopped to speak to the person who stood next to me, addressing him by name. All my emigrant prejudices were yet in full force and I thought myself polluted by coming in contact with one whom I regarded as an absolute monster, and whom I had never heard mentioned except as an object of the bitterest imprecation.” “Doubtless,” said the Emperor, “you were thinking of the _mort sans phrase_. But I have heard it affirmed that Sieyes denied that.”

I now repeated an anecdote which used to be circulated in the Faubourg Saint-Germain, and on which, the first time I related it, the Emperor made no observation. Sieyes was described as having used the epithet _tyrant_ in speaking of Louis XVI., to which Napoleon was said to have replied, “Monsieur l‘Abbé, if he had been a tyrant, I should not be here, and you would still be performing mass.” “I might have thought so,” said the Emperor, on my relating this anecdote for the second time; “but I should certainly not have been fool enough to say so. This is one of the absurd stories invented in the drawing-rooms of Paris. I never committed blunders of that kind: my object was to extinguish, and not to feed, the flame. The torrent of hostility was already too forcibly directed against certain leaders of the Revolution. I found it necessary to support and countenance them; and I did so. Some one having procured—God knows where—a bust of Sieyes in his ecclesiastical character, it was publickly exhibited, and occasioned a universal uproar. Sieyes, in a furious passion, set out to make a complaint to me; but I had already given the necessary reprimand, and the bust was again consigned to obscurity.

“My great principle was to guard against re-action, and to bury the past in oblivion. I never condemned any opinion, or proscribed any act. I was surrounded by the men who had voted for the death of Louis XVI.: they were in the Ministry, and in the Council of State. I did not approve of their doctrines; but what had I to do with them? what right had I to constitute myself their judge?” Some had been actuated by conviction, others by weakness and terror, and all by the delirium and fury of the moment. The fatality of the Greek tragedy was exemplified in the life of Louis XVI.”

I told the Emperor that it was reported in the Faubourg Saint-Germain that Sieyes had been detected in a conspiracy against him, in the affair of M. Clement de Ris; and that he (Napoleon) had pardoned him, on condition of his entirely withdrawing himself from any participation in political affairs. “This is another idle story, for which there is not the slightest foundation,” said the Emperor. “Sieyes was always attached to me, and I never had any cause to complain of him. He was probably vexed to find that I opposed his metaphysical ideas; but he was at length convinced that it was necessary for France to have a ruler, and he preferred me to any other. Sieyes was, after all, an honest and a very clever man: he did much for the Revolution.”

The Emperor mentioned that at one of the first public festivals that took place during the Consulate, as he was viewing the illuminations in company with Sieyes, he asked him what he thought of the state of affairs. Sieyes replied in a cold and even a disheartening tone. “And yet,” resumed Napoleon, “I had this morning very satisfactory proofs of the spirit of the people.”—“It is seldom,” replied Sieyes, “that the people shew their real spirit, when the man who is possessed of power presents himself to their gaze. I can assure you they are far from being satisfied.”—“Then you do not think the present government firmly established?”—“No.”—“And when do you suppose we shall be settled?“—“When I see the Dukes and Marquises of the old court in your ante-chamber.“—“Sieyes,” added the Emperor, “little dreamed that this would so soon be the case. He was short-sighted, and could not see very far before him. I thought, as he did, that all could not end with the Republic; but I foresaw the establishment of the Empire. Accordingly, two or three years afterwards, the circumstance I have just related being still fresh in my recollection, I said to Sieyes, at one of my grand audiences: Well, you are now pell-mell with all the old Dukes and Marquises; do you think all is settled now?”—“Oh, yes,” replied Sieyes, bowing profoundly; “you have wrought miracles, which were never before equalled, and which I never could have foreseen.”

During the Consulate, Napoleon was once standing in front of the Hotel de la Marine, viewing a public illumination. Beside him was a lady, who to all appearance had formerly moved in a distinguished sphere, accompanied by her daughter, a very pretty girl, to whom she was pointing out all the persons of note, as they passed to and fro in the apartments. Calling her daughter’s attention to a certain individual, she said: “Remind me to go and pay my respects to him some day. We ought to do so, for he has rendered us great service.” “But, mother,” replied the young lady, “I did not know that we were expected to shew gratitude to such people. I thought they were too happy in being able to oblige persons of our quality.” “Certainly,” said the Emperor, “La Bruyere would have turned this incident to good account.”

Napoleon sometimes went out in disguise early in the morning, traversing the streets of the capital alone, and mingling with the labouring classes of the people, with whose condition and sentiments he wished to make himself acquainted. In the Council of State I have often heard him advise the Prefect of Police to adopt this plan. He called it the _Caliph system of police_, and said he esteemed it to be the best.

On his return from the disastrous campaigns of Moscow and Leipsic, Napoleon, in order to maintain the appearance of confidence, frequently appeared amidst the multitude with scarcely any attendants. He visited the market-places, the faubourgs, and all the populous districts of the capital, conversing familiarly with the people; and he was every where received and treated with respect.

One day, at La Halle, a woman with whom he had been holding a little dialogue, bluntly told him he ought to make peace. “Good woman,” replied the Emperor, “sell your greens, and leave me to settle my affairs. Let every one attend to his own calling.” The bystanders laughed, and applauded him.

On another occasion, at the Faubourg Saint-Antoine, when surrounded by an immense concourse of people, whom he was treating very condescendingly, some one asked whether affairs were really as bad as they were represented to be? “Why, certainly,” replied the Emperor, “I cannot say that things are going on very well.” “But what will be the end of this?” “Heaven knows!” “Will the enemy enter France?” “Very possibly; and he may even march to Paris if you do not assist me. I have not a million of arms. I cannot do all by my own individual efforts.” “We will support you,” exclaimed a number of voices. “Then I shall beat the enemy, and preserve the glory of France.” “But what must we do?” “You must enlist and fight.” “We will,’ said one of the crowd; “but we must make a few conditions!” “What are they?” “We will not pass the frontier.” “You shall not be required to do so.” “We wish to serve in the guards,” said another. “You shall do so.” The air instantly resounded with acclamations. Registers were immediately opened, and two thousand men enlisted in the course of the day. Napoleon returned to the Tuileries; and, as he entered the Place Carousel on horseback, surrounded by the multitude, whose acclamations rent the air, it was supposed that an insurrection had broken out, and the gates were about to be closed.

On his return from the Island of Elba, the Emperor made another visit to the Faubourg Saint-Antoine, where he was received with equal enthusiasm, and conducted back to the palace in a similar manner. As he passed through the Faubourg Saint-Germain, the multitude who escorted him halted before the principal hotels, and manifested their disapprobation by angry words and gestures. The Emperor observed that he had scarcely ever been placed in so delicate a situation. “How many evils might have ensued,” said he, “had a single stone been thrown by the mob. Had a single imprudent word, or even an equivocal look, escaped me, the whole Faubourg might have been destroyed; and I am convinced that its preservation was to be attributed wholly to my presence of mind, and the respect which the multitude entertained for me.”

To-day I attended the Emperor at his toilet. Santini was cutting his hair, and a large tuft fell at my feet. I stooped to pick it up, and the Emperor, observing me, asked what I was doing. I replied that I had dropped something, upon which he smiled and pinched my ear: he guessed what I had picked up.

Speaking of the depravity and corruption of manners which prevailed at the time when he commanded the army of the interior in Paris, Napoleon mentioned that a contractor came to solicit some signatures from him, and to beg that he would give his support to certain appointments and supplies: this he promised to do without hesitation, conceiving that there was nothing unfair in the proposal. Before he withdrew, the contractor dextrously took an opportunity of leaving on the chimney-piece two rouleaux containing a hundred Louis. This was an enormous sum in specie, for at that time paper money was chiefly in use. Fortunately, the General was the first to discover the circumstance, and the visitor was called back before he had gone far. He at first attempted to deny having left the money; but he afterwards acknowledged it, observing that every one must live, and that the method he had adopted was, he believed, the general one. He, however, hoped that he might be forgiven if he had unintentionally done wrong, adding that it was very seldom necessary to ask pardon for such offences.

At the hour at which the Emperor generally takes his walk, he found himself very drowsy; but he was determined to rouse himself, and he went out though the wind was blowing violently. After walking a short distance, he returned to the house, and we entered Madame de Montholon’s apartment. The Emperor had no sooner seated himself on the sofa, than he felt inclined to fall asleep. He rose and proceeded to the drawing-room. He complained of great internal heat, and asked for a glass of toast and water. His drowsiness still continued, and he retired to his chamber to lie down.

About seven o’clock he sent for me, and gave me the following note, which he desired me to keep along with the rest of the official papers. It was the copy of a note which he had sent that morning to the Governor....

_Note._—“I recollect that in a conversation which took place between General Lowe and some of the gentlemen of my suite, (alluding to the conversation of the 15th,) some observations were made respecting my situation, which were not conformable with my ideas. I abdicated to the Representatives of the people and in favour of my son. I proceeded with confidence to England, with the intention of living either there or in America, in profound retirement, and under the name of a Colonel who was killed in battle by my side. _I had resolved to have nothing to do with political affairs of any kind whatever._

“When I went on board the Northumberland, I was informed that I was a prisoner of war, that I was to be transported beyond the Line, and that I was to be called _General Bonaparte_. This obliged me to retain ostensibly the title of the Emperor Napoleon, in opposition to the name of General Bonaparte, which was thus to be forced upon me.

“About seven or eight months ago, Count Montholon proposed to obviate the little difficulties that are continually arising, by my adopting an ordinary name. The Admiral thought it necessary to write to London on this subject, and there the matter rested.

“The name which is now applied to me has the advantage of not prejudging the past; but it is not in unison with the forms of society. _I am still disposed to assume a name that may be conformable with custom_; I once more repeat that whenever I may be released from my cruel captivity, _I am still willing to continue a stranger to all political affairs, whatever may take place in the world_. Such is my determination; and no other declaration, on this subject, has my sanction.”

The Emperor ate but little dinner; there was something very extraordinary in the lethargy that had come over him. He had been overpowered by drowsiness during the whole of the day; and yet when he withdrew he said he was afraid he should not sleep, his sensations were so extraordinary. He generally rests soundly when he is inclined to sleep, but he had been dozing all day long without being able to get any rest.

To-day a frigate sailed for Europe.

LOUIS XVI.—MARIE ANTOINETTE.—MADAME CAMPAN.—LEONARD.—THE PRINCESS DE LAMBALLE.

17th. About noon the Emperor sent for me; he had just finished his breakfast. He was no better than he had been yesterday. He endeavoured to converse a little, and then read in English a few pages of the Vicar of Wakefield. He still complained of drowsiness, and, after several vain efforts to rouse himself, he retired to his chamber to try to get a nap. He was the more astonished that this heaviness should continue, as he said he had slept well during the night.

He did not leave his chamber until dinner was ready, and after dinner he tried to read a little of Don Quixote; but he almost immediately laid down the book, and retired. As it was very early, he sent for me after he had gone to bed, and I remained with him nearly an hour conversing on different subjects.

We spoke of Louis XVI., the Queen, Madame Elizabeth, their martyrdom, &c. He asked me to tell him what I knew of the King and Queen, and what they had said to me on my presentation. The forms and ceremonies of the Court were, I informed him, the same as those which were adopted during the Empire. As to character, I observed, it was generally admitted that the Queen had disappointed public expectation. During the first moments of the revolutionary storm, there was every reason to suppose her to be a woman of great talent and energy; but subsequently these qualities seemed entirely to forsake her. With regard to the King, I mentioned the opinion formed of him by M. Bertrand de Molleville, with whom I had been well acquainted, and who was Minister of Marine to Louis XVI. at the height of the crisis. He pronounced the King to have possessed considerable information, sound judgment, and excellent intentions; but there it all ended. He lost himself by the multiplicity of advice which he solicited, and by his irresolute and wavering mode of following that advice.

The Emperor, in his turn, retraced the portrait of the Queen, by Madame Campan, who, he observed, having been her confidante, and having served her with zeal, affection and fidelity, might be expected to have known a great deal about her, and deserved to be considered as good authority. Madame Campan, he said, had communicated to him many details of the private life of the Queen; and he related some particulars which he had derived from that source.

The Queen, according to Madame Campan, was a fascinating woman, but destitute of talent: she was better calculated to be a votary of pleasure than a participator in affairs of State. She possessed an excellent heart, was parsimonious, rather than extravagant, and by no means possessed strength of character equal to the trying circumstances in which she was placed. She obtained regular information of the schemes that were carrying on abroad; and she never entertained a doubt of her deliverance, even up to the fatal 10th of August, the catastrophe of which was brought about solely by the intrigues and hopes of the Court, which were developed to the world through the imprudence of the King and those who surrounded him.

“On the terrible night of the 5th of October,” said the Emperor, “a person for whom the Queen entertained a high regard, and whom I afterwards treated very ill at Rastadt, hastened to join the Princess at Versailles: whether he had been sent for, or whether he went of his own accord to share her dangers, I know not. It is in these trying moments,” continued the Emperor, “that we feel most in need of the advice and consolation of those who are devoted to us. At the moment of the catastrophe, when the palace was stormed, the Queen fled for refuge to the King’s apartments; but her confident was exposed to the greatest dangers, and only escaped by leaping out of a window.”

I informed the Emperor that the Queen had greatly fallen in the estimation of the emigrants, by her conduct during the events of Varennes; she was reproached for not having allowed the King to set out alone, and for having betrayed a want of skill and energy during the flight of the Royal family. Nothing indeed, could be more ill managed and confused than the journey to Varennes. A curious circumstance connected with that event was, that Leonard, the Queen’s famous _coiffeur_, found means to pass, in his cabriolet, through the midst of the tumult; and he arrived at Coblentz, bringing with him the Marshal’s baton, which, it was said, the King had carried away from the Tuileries, in order to deliver it to M. de Bouillé, when he should join him.

“It was,” said the Emperor, “an established rule with the members of the House of Austria to observe profound silence respecting the Queen of France. Whenever Marie Antoinette was mentioned, they cast down their eyes, and dexterously changed the conversation, as if to avoid a disagreeable and embarrassing subject. This rule,” continued the Emperor, “was adopted by all the members of the family, and recommended to their agents abroad. The efforts lately made by the French Princes in Paris to revive the interest attached to the memory of the unfortunate Queen must certainly have been displeasing to the Court of Vienna.”

The Emperor next asked me some questions concerning the Princess de Lamballe, of whom he said he knew nothing. I was enabled to answer his questions, as I had known the Princess well. One of my cousins had been her lady of honour; and, on my arrival at Aix-la-Chapelle, at the commencement of my emigration, I was received as one of her household, and treated with the utmost kindness.

At Aix-la-Chapelle the Princess de Lamballe had assembled round her many of the wrecks of Versailles: she was surrounded by nobles and persons of fashion, who had been connected with the old Court. She was also visited by many illustrious foreigners; and while I remained with her, I frequently saw Gustavus III., King of Sweden, who went by the name of the Count de Haga; Prince Ferdinand of Prussia, and his children, the eldest of whom (Prince Louis) was killed just before the battle Jena; the duchess of Cumberland, widow of a brother of the King of England, &c.

When Louis XVI. solemnly accepted the Constitution, and thus recomposed the nation, the Princess received an official letter from the Queen, inviting her to return to her situation. She consulted her old friends, who declared themselves of opinion that the Queen was not free, and, conceiving that there would be no safety in Paris, they advised her to take no notice of the Queen’s letter, and to let it be supposed that it had never come to hand. The Princess, however, having asked some other individuals, how they would advise her to act, they unfortunately replied: “Madam, you shared the prosperity of the Queen, and you have now a noble opportunity of proving your fidelity, particularly since you are no longer her favourite.” The Princess possessed lofty sentiments, warm affections, and was of a rather romantic turn of mind. She declared her intention of setting out next day for Paris. The unfortunate lady, therefore, returned to the capital, with a full knowledge of the danger to which she was exposed; and she fell the victim of generosity and noble sentiment. When the Princess determined on proceeding to Paris, my friends proposed that I should accompany her as one of her suite. My youth, together with the circumstance of my being almost a stranger in Paris, would have enabled me to pass unnoticed, and I might perhaps have been serviceable to her; but at the moment of her departure, some difficulties arose which prevented me from accompanying her. However, I became her correspondent; and every other day I transmitted to her the absurd stories of every kind, which served to feed our hopes, and to which we failed not to give implicit credit. I continued my correspondence while we remained in the country; I even continued it after she had ceased to exist!

The extreme affliction in which I was plunged, on hearing of her dreadful fate, was occasionally augmented by the fear that my letters might perhaps have had some share in producing it. I happen to have now in my possession some lines which she wrote a few days before the horrible catastrophe that closed her existence. They are dated _from my dungeon_; for so she called the Pavilion of Flora, which she at that time occupied in the Tuileries.

END OF VOL. III.

ANDOVER: STEREOTYPED AND PRINTED BY B. BENSLEY

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Footnotes

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Transcriber’s Note

Certain conventions of the text have been modified. For instance, a series of dots (....) were employed where a name was elided. These have been replaced with long dashes (———) in order to avoid awkward line breaks.

Given the publication date, spelling has been generally allowed to stand as printed. For instance, the words ‘somnabule’ and ‘somnabulism’, on p. 43, are apparently in error, but are consistent with one another. However, errors deemed most likely to be the printer’s have been corrected, and are noted below.

There were a number of instances in the text where quoted words were missing either an opening or closing quotation mark. The proper placement is not always obvious, but the most plausible choice has been made, based on the context and voice. Among the most challenging is the author’s recounting of Napolean’s recollection of an interchange with the Pope on p. 130.

The issues tabulated below should be noted, along with the resolutions. The references below are to the page and line in the original.

25.25 “In obta[in]ing possession of Illyria Added. 43.25 [somnabule], who, at night runs along the roof _sic_ 43.29 on his [somnabulism], _sic_ 52.32 The Emperor rema[r]ked Added. 63.15 that adulation w[sa/as] not pushed so far Transposed. 66.35 a suitable match for your Princess.[’] Added. 72.20 [“/‘]You will see me again shortly Replaced. 77.33 while we[re / re]tained possession of it. Moved space. 81.19 [‘]How’, exclaimed he, Added. 90.33 the 13th Vend[e/é]miaire Replaced. 95.38 under which [b/h]e suffers Replaced. 102.5 and altogether useless.[”] Added. 105.18 even when that great E[x/m]press seated on her Replaced. throne 107.41 unless it was agreeable to me[,/.] Replaced. 108.30 might have incited him in his blindness.[”] Added. 108.31 [“]At the end of this Removed. 116.40 or a pain in my stomach.[’/”] Replaced. 120.7 will be guilty of my destruction[’]” Added. 121.15 she exclaimed, [‘]but a single moment left; Added. 121.24 he published a pamph[l]et Added. 130.16 if it be feasible.’[”] It was, however, Added. 130.26 [“]‘I shall never,’ he remarked, Added. 131.2 whatever I wished.[”] Added. 140.28 [“]Sire,” I answered, Added. 147.17 [‘]Thousand and One Nights’ Added. 151.30 as do all the principles of sound[,] morality. Removed. 154.38 at Lodi, at Castiglione, a[t] Rivoli, at Added. Arcole 155.32 the[ir/re] existed on this rock Replaced. 155.37 [“]Permission could not be obtained to Added. subscribe 155.40 In conse[se]quence of the demand Removed 159.6 Those, who, who> fail in respect to Napoleon, Removed. 159.38 said he, [“]is a very happy connexion. Added. 163.11 with the nations situated in their rear.[”] Added. 166.32 [“]My leisure and my old age would have been Removed. devoted, 168.1 The army marched, with difficulty, over that Added. tract tract[.] 171.22 supplies the whole of the establis[h]ment with Added. water 174.17 to some houses of the Franks[,/’] quarter Replaced. 189.36 four[-]and-twenty hours Added. 199.15 only not all at the same[,] time Removed. 230.34 ar[r]angements for the battles of Leipsic Added. 232.31 co[ /a]lesced Powers Restored. 239.28 ra[t]her congratulate yourselves Added. 259.39 when I happene[n]d to be alone with him Removed. 260.35 The Holy League which[ which] had been formed Removed/ against Henry III. 261.15 But these parli[a]ments drew up Added. 214.1 beat 107,000 Russians or Prussians[’] Removed. 219.25 insuring the independ[a/e]nce of France Replaced. 265.30 by the treaty of Camp[i]o-Formio Removed. 267.38 a Burgundy, a Champa[n]gne Removed. 279.26 from the States of the House of Austria[.] Restored. 284.15 in one of the small Versailles[,] diligences Removed. 292.29 as far as Avi[n]gnon, he had heard nothing but Removed. regret 292.39 he several times called after him.[”/:] Replaced. 294.12 [“]depended on my speed. Added. 294.17 was quitting the Tuileries.[”] Added. 298.19 all public bodies, all classes[,] of the Removed. citizens 300.36 the safest, and the best[.] Added. 301.41 with expressions of the [f]eelings Added. 302.39 the Bourbons ab[o/a]ndoning a monarchy Replaced. 304.9 ON IMPOS[S]IBILITIES. Added. 305.22 [“]Accordingly,” continued Bertrand, Removed. 312.15 the Mississippi Company[,] Added. 315.13 in a very short time a Mayor of the Palace.[”] Added. 319.13 [“]The Orientals, on the other hand, differ Added. 321.37 [“]On my return from Elba Added. 332.30 _M[âi/aî]tre des Requêtes_ Replaced. 337.1 the[ the] Council of State Removed. 346.22 and I am soon asleep.[”] Removed. 357.26 observed he, [“]of amalgamating all kinds of Added. merit 371.36 in less than three months[: “]/:”] and so Replaced. saying, 375.19 th[e/a]n he had when he was merely the Replaced. Minister 376.34 who had sacrificed his troops to facili[t]ate Added. the operations 376.39 [D/d]’Antraigues>, finding that all his Replaced. secrets 383.9 I will remain her[e] alone. Added. 386.1 “I was not aware of that[,]” replied I; Added. 386.27 yet I d[l/i]d not mean to question his right Replaced. 388.21 “Tell him,” said [“]Napoleon, [“]that his Moved. instructions 390.8 He had bee[d/n] reading Replaced. 399.10 on my arrival at Aix-la[-]Chappelle Restored. 400.5 my friends proposed that I should[a’/ Replaced. a]ccompany her 400.9 but at [i]the moment of her departure, Removed.