Chapter XV: Part 15

It may be added that French books were scarce with us; that the
Emperor knew them all, and had read them even to satiety; whilst we
could easily procure a multitude of English works altogether new to
him. Besides, to learn the language of a foreigner, always
prepossesses him in our favour; it is a satisfaction to one’s self; it
facilitates intercourse, and forms in a certain degree the
commencement of a sort of connection between the parties. However this
may be, I began to perceive the limits of our difficulties; I
anticipated the moment when the Emperor would have got through all the
inevitable disagreeables incident to beginners. But let any one form
an idea, if possible, of what the scholastic study of conjugations,
declensions, and articles must have been to him. It could never have
been accomplished without great courage on the scholar’s side and some
degree of artifice on the part of the master. He often asked me
whether he did not deserve the ferula, of which he now comprehended
the vast utility in schools; he declared, jestingly, that he should
have made much greater progress himself, had he stood in fear of
correction. He complained of not having improved; but, in reality, the
progress he had made would have been extraordinary in any one.

The more grand, rapid, and comprehensive the mind is, the less it is
capable of dwelling on regular minute details. The Emperor, who
discovered wonderful facility in apprehending all that regarded the
philosophy of the language, evinced very little capacity for retaining
its material mechanism. He had a quick understanding and a very bad
memory; this vexed him much; he conceived that he did not get on.
Whenever I could subject the matters in question to any regular law or
analogy, they were classed and comprehended in an instant; the scholar
even preceded the master in his applications and deductions; but as to
learning by heart, and retaining the gross elements of the language,
it was a most difficult affair. He was constantly confounding one
thing with another; and it would have been thought too fastidious to
require too scrupulous a regularity at first. Another difficulty was
that, with the same letters, the same vowels, as ours, a totally
different pronunciation is required; the scholar would allow of none
but ours; and the master would have multiplied the difficulties and
disagreeables tenfold, had he required any better. Besides, the
scholar, even in his own language, was incorrigibly addicted to
maiming proper names and foreign words; he pronounced them quite at
his own discretion, and when once they had passed his lips, they
always remained the same in spite of every thing, because he had thus
got them, once for all, lodged, as it were in his head. The same thing
happened with respect to most of our English words: and the master
found it best to have the prudence and patience to let it pass;
leaving it to time to rectify by degrees, if it should ever be
possible, all these defects. From these concurring circumstances
actually sprang a new language. It was understood by me alone, it is
true; but it procured the Emperor the pleasure of reading English, and
he could, in the strictest sense, make himself understood by writing
in that language. This was a great deal; it was every thing.

In the mean time, the Emperor regularly continued his Campaigns of
Egypt with the Grand Marshal. My Campaign of Italy had long been
finished; we were always touching and retouching it, with respect to
its typographical form, the arrangement of the chapters, the division
of the paragraphs, &c.

From time to time he also dictated separate parts to Messrs. Gourgaud
and Montholon. To all this work he added a very little exercise: a
walk now and then, sometimes a ride in the calash, scarcely ever on
horseback. On the 30th, however, he chose to return to our Valley of
Silence, which we had long deserted. We were near the middle of the
vale; the passage was stopped up with dead bushes, and a kind of bar
to keep out cattle. The servant (the faithful Aly) dismounted, as
usual, to clear the way for us. We passed on: but, whilst the servant
was engaged in assisting us, his horse had strayed from him, and, when
he attempted to catch him, ran away. A great quantity of rain had
fallen, and the horse sank into a quagmire, similar to that in which
the Emperor, a few days after our arrival at Longwood, had stuck so
tenaciously as to make it doubtful whether he would not remain in it.
The servant ran after us to say that he must remain for the purpose of
disengaging his horse. We were in a very difficult narrow road, riding
one by one. It was not until some time after that the Emperor heard us
mention to one another the accident of the servant. He found great
fault because we had not waited for him, and desired the Grand Marshal
and General Gourgaud to return for him. The Emperor dismounted to wait
for them, and ascended a little elevation, on which he looked like a
figure on a pedestal in the midst of ruins. He had the bridle of his
horse passed round his arm, and began to whistle an air; mute nature
echoed the strains, but only to the barren desert. “Yet,” thought I,
“a short time ago, how many sceptres he wielded! how many crowns
belonged to him! how many kings were at his feet! It is true,” said I,
“that in the eyes of those who approach him, who daily see and hear
him, he is still greater than ever! This is the sentiment, the opinion
of all about him. We serve him with no less ardour; we love him with
greater affection than ever.”

But now the Grand Marshal and Gourgaud arrived; they assisted the
Emperor to mount again, and we proceeded. These gentlemen acknowledged
that without their assistance the horse could never have been saved;
the united efforts of all three had barely sufficed to disengage him.
A considerable time afterwards, turning an elbow of the road, the
Emperor observed that the servant had not followed, and said they
ought to have remained till they had found he was in a condition to
come on. They thought that he had staid behind to clean his horse a
little. In the course of our ride, at several other turnings, the
Emperor repeated the same observation. We arrived at the Grand
Marshal’s, went in, and rested there a few minutes; as we came out,
the Emperor asked whether the servant had passed on; no one had seen
him. When we arrived at Longwood, his first question was whether the
man had returned. He had been at home some time, having returned by a
different road. I may perhaps have dwelt somewhat too much on this
trifling circumstance; but I did so because it appeared to me
perfectly characteristic. In this domestic solicitude, the reader will
find it difficult to recognise the insensible, obdurate, wicked, cruel
monster—the tyrant, of whom he has so often and so long been told.

THE EMPEROR SPEAKS IN PRAISE OF ST. HELENA.—SCANTY
RESOURCES OF THE ISLAND.

February 1.—The happiest and wisest philosophy is that which sometimes
enables us to view the least unfavourable side of the most
disagreeable things. The Emperor, who was, doubtless at the moment,
under the influence of this happy feeling, observed, as we were
walking with him in the garden, that, after all, as a place of exile,
perhaps St. Helena was the best that could be. In high latitudes we
should have suffered greatly from cold, and, in other tropical
islands, we should have dragged out a miserable existence under the
scorching rays of the sun. “This rock,” continued he, “is wild and
barren, no doubt; the climate is monotonous and unwholesome; but the
temperature, it must be confessed, is mild and agreeable.”

He afterwards asked me, in the course of conversation, which would
have been preferable, England or America, in case we had been free to
follow our own inclinations. I replied that, had the Emperor wished to
spend his days in philosophic retirement, far from the tumult of the
world, he should have chosen America; but, if he felt any interest, or
entertained any after-thought with regard to public affairs, he should
have preferred England. And, not willing to be behindhand in giving an
additional touch to the flattering picture which the Emperor had drawn
of our miserable rock, I even ventured to say that there might,
perhaps, be circumstances under which St. Helena would not be found
the worst possible asylum. We might here be under shelter, while the
tempest was howling in other parts of the world; and we were placed
beyond the reach of conflicting passions, circumstances every way
favourable to the chance of a happier futurity. These observations
arose out of my wish to represent things on their fairest side; I
extended the horizon to the utmost stretch of my imagination.

Meanwhile, in order to afford a correct idea of our place of exile and
the scantiness of its resources, it is only necessary to observe that
we were this day informed it would be requisite to economise various
articles of our daily consumption, and, perhaps, even to make a
temporary sacrifice of some. We were told that the store of coffee was
rapidly diminishing, and that it might soon be entirely exhausted. For
a considerable time we have denied ourselves the use of white sugar;
there was but very little and that very bad, which was reserved
exclusively for the Emperor’s use; and there is now every prospect of
this little supply being exhausted before more can be obtained. It is
the same with various other necessaries. Our island is like a ship at
sea; our stores are speedily exhausted, if the voyage be prolonged, or
if we have more mouths to feed than we have the means of supplying.
Our arrival has produced a scarcity at St. Helena, particularly as
trading ships are not now suffered to approach the island; we might be
tempted to believe that they avoid it as a fatal rock, were we not
aware that the English cruiser carefully keeps them at bay. But, of
all the privations with which we are threatened, that which most
surprises us, and which is most of all vexatious, is the want of
writing paper. We are informed that, during our three months residence
here, we have consumed all the paper in the island; which proves
either that St. Helena is in general very scantily supplied with that
article, or that we have used a most unreasonable quantity. The
inmates of Longwood must have consumed six or eight times as much as
all the rest of the colony together.

In addition to this, our physical and moral privations must be taken
into account; it must be recollected that we are not in the full
enjoyment of even the few resources which the island affords, and of
which arbitrary feeling and caprice in part deprive us; for we are not
permitted to regale our eyes with the sight of the grass and foliage,
in places at a certain distance from Longwood. The Admiral had
promised that the Emperor should be free to ride over the whole of the
island, and that he would make arrangements with respect to his guard,
so as to relieve him from all annoyance. It has already been seen how,
on our second attempt to avail ourselves of it, the Admiral broke this
kind of engagement; and by his orders an officer insisted on
accompanying the Emperor in his rides. The Emperor consequently
renounced the idea of taking any excursion whatever, and we now remain
cut off from all communication with mankind.

With respect to our physical existence, our situation is most
miserable, either through unavoidable circumstances or mismanagement.
Scarcely any of the provisions are eatable. The wine is execrable; the
oil unfit for use; the coffee and sugar almost exhausted, and, as I
have already observed, we have nearly bred a famine in the island. Of
course, we can endure all these privations, and might contrive to
exist under many more. But, when it is asserted that we are treated in
a style of magnificence, when it is declared that we are very well
off, we are induced to unfold our real situation, and to shew that we
are destitute of every comfort. And, lest our silence hereafter should
lead to the inference that we are happy, let it be understood that our
moral strength may enable us to endure miseries which language would
be inadequate to express.

MY SON’S INDISPOSITION.—THE EMPEROR GIVES
ME A HORSE.

2nd.—My son having been, for some time past, troubled with a pain in
his chest, accompanied by violent palpitation of the heart, I called
in three surgeons, and they ordered him to be bled.—Bleeding is at
present the favourite remedy with the English; it is their universal
panacea. They employ it in all disorders, and sometimes where there is
no disorder at all. They laughed at the astonishment we evinced at a
treatment which was altogether new to us.

About the middle of the day we took a ride in the calash. On our
return home, the Emperor wished to see a horse that had just been
purchased for him: he thought him very handsome and well made. He
tried him, declared that he liked him uncommonly, and then, with the
most captivating good-nature, made me a present of him. However, I
could not ride him: he proved vicious, and he was transferred to
General Gourgaud, who is a much better horseman than I am.

THE EMPEROR’S PROGRESS IN LEARNING ENGLISH.

3rd–6th. The 3rd was a terrible day; the rain fell incessantly, and we
found it impossible to stir out. The weather has continued wet for
several days in succession. I never imagined that we could have
contrived to stay for such a length of time within doors. The damp is
penetrating on every side of our dwelling, and the rain is making its
way through the roof. The bad weather without doors had an unpleasant
effect upon us within.—I became very dull; the Emperor was by no means
well, and I was not better. “What is the matter with you?” said he to
me, one morning; “you seem quite altered for these few days past. Is
your mind ailing? Are you conjuring up _dragons_, like Madame de
Sevigné?”—“Sire,” I replied, “my illness is altogether bodily. The
state of my eyes afflicts me exceedingly. As for my mind, I know how
to keep that under the bridle. I can even use the curb, if needful;
and your Majesty has given me a pair of spurs which will be my last
and victorious resource.”

The Emperor devoted three, four, and even five hours at a time to the
study of English. His progress was really very remarkable; he felt
this, and was delighted at it. He frequently says that he is indebted
to me for this conquest, and that he considers it a very important
one. For my part, however, I can claim no other merit than the method
which I adopted with regard to the other occupations of the Emperor. I
first suggested the idea, and then continually reverted to it: and
when it was once fairly set on foot, I followed up its execution with
a promptitude and daily regularity which stimulated the Emperor to
proceed. If any of us happened not to be ready at the moment he wanted
us, if it was found necessary to postpone any business till the
following day, he was immediately seized with disgust, and his labours
were suspended until some circumstance occurred to induce him to renew
them. “I stand in need of excitement,” said he, in one of these
transient interruptions, “nothing but the pleasure of advancement can
bear me through: for, between you and me, it must needs be confessed
that there is nothing very amusing in all this. Indeed there is very
little diversion in the whole routine of our present existence.”

The Emperor still continued to play two or three games at chess before
dinner; in the afternoons we resumed _reversis_, long abandoned.
Formerly we had not been regular in paying our debts of honour; and we
henceforth agreed to pay the sums that we owed to each other into a
general bank. We began to consider how the money thus accumulated
should be disposed of. The Emperor asked our opinions, and one
proposed that the money should be applied to the liberation of the
prettiest female slave in the island. This idea was universally
approved; we sat down to play with great spirit, and the first evening
produced two Napoleons and a half.

THE EMPEROR LEARNS THE DEATH OF MURAT.

7th—8th. The Theban frigate arrived from the Cape, and brought us some
newspapers. I translated them to the Emperor while we walked in the
garden. One of these papers brought intelligence of a great
catastrophe. I read that Murat, having landed in Calabria, with a few
troops, had been seized and shot. At this unexpected news, the Emperor
interrupted me by exclaiming, “The Calabrians were more humane, more
generous, than those who sent me hither.” This was all he said; and
after a few moments’ silence, as he said nothing, I continued to read.

Murat, without real judgment, without solid views, without a character
proportioned to the circumstances in which he was placed, had perished
in an attempt evidently desperate. It is not impossible that the
Emperor’s return from Elba may have turned his brain, and inspired him
with the hope of renewing the prodigy in his own person. Such was the
miserable end of him who had been one of the most active causes of our
reverses! In 1814, his courage and intrepidity might have saved us
from the abyss in which his treachery involved us. He neutralized the
Viceroy on the Po, and fought against him; whereas, by uniting
together, they might have forced the passes of the Tyrol, made a
descent into Germany, and arrived on Bâle and the banks of the Rhine,
to destroy the rear of the allies and cut off their retreat from
France.

The Emperor, while he was at Elba, disdained all communication with
the King of Naples; but, on departing for France, he wrote to inform
him that, being about to resume possession of his throne, he felt
pleasure in declaring to him that all their past differences were at
an end. He pardoned his late conduct, tendered him his friendship,
sent some one to sign the guarantee of his States, and recommended him
to maintain a good understanding with the Austrians, and to content
himself with merely keeping them in check, in case they should attempt
to march upon France. Murat, at this moment, inspired with the
sentiments of his early youth, would receive neither guarantee nor
signature. He declared that the Emperor’s promise and friendship were
sufficient for him, and that he would prove he had been more
unfortunate than guilty. His devotedness and ardour, he added, would
obtain for him oblivion of the past.

“Murat,” said the Emperor, “was doomed to be our bane. He ruined us by
forsaking us, and he ruined us by too warmly espousing our cause. He
observed no sort of discretion. He himself attacked the Austrians,
without any reasonable plan and without adequate forces; and he was
subdued without striking a blow.”

The Austrians, when rid of Murat, cited his conduct either as a reason
or as a pretence for attributing ambitious views to Napoleon when he
again appeared on the scene. They constantly referred to Murat,
whenever the Emperor made protestations of his moderation.

Before these unlucky hostilities of the King of Naples, the Emperor
had already set on foot negotiations with Austria. Other inferior
states, which I think it unnecessary to mention by name, had signified
to him that he might rely on their neutrality. Doubtless the fall of
the King of Naples gave another turn to affairs.

Endeavours have been made to represent Napoleon as a man of furious
and implacable temper; but the truth is that he was a stranger to
revenge, and he never cherished any vindictive feeling, whatever wrong
he suffered. His anger was usually vented in violent transports, and
was soon at an end. Those who knew him must be convinced of this fact.
Murat had scandalously betrayed him; as I have already observed, he
had twice ruined his prospects, and yet Murat came to seek an asylum
at Toulon. “I should have taken him with me to Waterloo,” said
Napoleon; “but such was the patriotic and moral feeling of the French
army that it was doubtful whether the troops would surmount the
disgust and horror which they felt for the man who had betrayed and
lost France. I did not consider myself sufficiently powerful to
protect him. Yet he might have enabled us to gain the victory. How
useful would he have been at certain periods of the battle! For what
was required, at certain moments of the day, to insure our success?—to
break through three or four English squares; and Murat was admirable
in such a service as this—he was precisely the man for it. At the head
of a body of cavalry, no man was ever more resolute, more courageous,
or more brilliant.

“As to drawing a parallel,” said the Emperor, ”between the
circumstances of Napoleon and Murat—between the landing of the former
in France and the entrance of the latter into the Neapolitan
territory; no such parallel exists. Murat could have no good argument
to support his cause, except success; which was purely chimerical, at
the time and in the manner in which he commenced his enterprise.
Napoleon was the chosen ruler of a people; he was their legitimate
sovereign according to modern doctrines. But Murat was not a
Neapolitan; the Neapolitans had not chosen Murat; how, therefore,
could it be expected that he should excite any lively interest in his
favour? Thus his proclamation was totally false, and destitute of
facts. Ferdinand of Naples could view him in no other light than as an
instigator of insurrection; he did so, and he treated him accordingly.

“How different was it with me!” continued the Emperor: “before my
arrival, one universal sentiment pervaded France, and my proclamation
on landing was imbued with that sentiment:—every one found that it
echoed the feelings of his own heart. France was discontented; I was
her resource. The evil and its remedy were immediately in unison. This
is the whole secret of that electric movement which is unexampled in
history. It had its source solely in the nature of things. There was
no conspiracy, and the impulse was general; not a word was spoken, yet
a general understanding prevailed throughout the country. Whole towns
threw themselves at the feet of their deliverer. The first battalion
which my presence gained over to me immediately placed the whole army
in my power. I found myself borne on to Paris. The existing government
and its agency disappeared without effort, like clouds before the sun.
And yet,” concluded the Emperor, “had I been subdued, had I fallen
into the hands of my enemies, I was not a mere insurrectionary chief;
I was a Sovereign acknowledged by all Europe. I had my title, my
standard, my troops; and I was advancing to wage war upon my enemy.”

PORLIER—FERDINAND.

9th.—In the papers which I was translating to the Emperor, I found the
history of the Spanish General Porlier, one of the most distinguished
chiefs of the famous Guerillas. He had made an attempt to excite the
Spaniards to rise against the tyranny of Ferdinand; but he failed, was
arrested, and hanged.

The Emperor said, “I am not in the least surprised that such an
attempt should have been made in Spain. Those very Spaniards, who
proved themselves my most inveterate enemies when I invaded their
country, and who acquired the highest glory by the resistance they
opposed to me, immediately appealed to me on my return from Elba. They
had, they said, fought against me as their tyrant; but they now came
to implore my aid as their deliverer. They required only a small sum
to emancipate themselves, and to produce in the Peninsula a revolution
similar to mine. Had I conquered at Waterloo, it was my intention
immediately to have assisted the Spaniards. This circumstance
sufficiently explains to me the attempt that has lately been made.
There is little doubt that it will be renewed. Ferdinand, in his
madness, may grasp his sceptre as firmly as he will; but one day or
other it will slip through his fingers like an eel.”

About four o’clock, I presented to the Emperor the Captain of the
Theban, who was to sail next day for Europe, and Colonel Macoy, of the
Ceylon regiment. This brave soldier looked like a mutilated monument;
he had not only lost one of his legs, but his face was disfigured by a
sabre-cut across his forehead, and several other scars. He had been
wounded on the field of battle in Calabria, and made prisoner by
General Parthonaux. The Emperor received him with particular
attention; it was easy to see that they felt a mutual sympathy for
each other. Colonel Macoy had held the rank of Major in the Corsican
regiment, commanded by the new Governor, whom we expected. The Colonel
remarked to some person, that he thought the Emperor was very
ill-treated here; but that he had too high an idea of General Lowe’s
liberality of mind, not to believe that, having accepted the
Government of the Island, he would do every thing in his power to
meliorate our condition.

The Emperor afterwards rode out on horseback, when we again went up
the valley, and did not return until about seven o’clock. The Emperor
then resumed his walk in the garden; the temperature was very mild,
and the moon shone delightfully. The fine weather had completely
returned.

ON EGYPT.—PLAN FOR ALTERING THE COURSE OF
THE NILE.

10th.—The Emperor now begins to make rapid advancement in English;
and, with the assistance of his dictionary, might manage tolerably
without me. He was delighted with the decided progress he had made.
His lesson for to-day was the task of reading in the Encyclopedia
Britannica the article on the Nile, of which he now and then made
memorandums to assist him in his dictations to the Grand Marshal. In
this article the Emperor found a fact related which I had formerly
mentioned to him, but which he had hitherto considered as an absurd
story. The great Albuquerque proposed to the King of Portugal to turn
the course of the Nile previous to its entrance into the valley of
Egypt, so as to make it fall into the Red Sea, which would have
rendered Egypt an impassable desert, and made the Cape of Good Hope
the only channel for the great trade of India. Bruce thinks the
execution of this gigantic idea not entirely impossible; the Emperor
was forcibly struck with it.

About five o’clock the Emperor took an airing in the calash; the drive
was extremely pleasant, and the circumstance of some trees having been
cut down has, by forming several circuitous roads, made our original
space three times as large as before. On our return, we took advantage
of the fineness of the evening to walk for a long time in the garden:
the conversation was most interesting. It turned on various important
subjects, viz. on the variety of religions; on the spirit that had
given them birth; the ridiculous absurdities with which they were
mingled; the excesses by which they had been degraded; the objections
that had been urged against them, &c. The Emperor treated all these
subjects with his usual superiority.

UNIFORMITY.—ENNUI.—THE EMPEROR’S SOLITUDE.—CARICATURES.

11th.—The Emperor read this morning the article entitled Egypt, in the
Encyclopedia, and made some notes from it which cannot fail to be of
service to him for his Campaign of Egypt. This circumstance gave him a
great deal of pleasure; and he repeated several times in the course of
the day how much he was delighted with the progress he had made. He is
now sufficiently advanced to read without assistance.

About four o’clock I accompanied the Emperor into the garden: we
walked by ourselves for some time, but were afterwards joined by the
rest of the company. The weather was very mild. The Emperor remarked
the calmness of our solitude. It was Sunday, and no workmen were to be
seen. He added that we could not, at least, be accused of dissipation,
or of the ardent pursuit of pleasure; in fact, it is difficult to
imagine a state of greater uniformity, or a more complete absence of
every sort of amusement.

The Emperor endures this mode of life admirably. He surpasses us all
in equality and serenity of temper. He says, himself, that it would be
difficult to be more philosophic and tranquil than he is.—He retires
to bed at ten o’clock, and does not rise, that is to say, does not go
out, before five or six o’clock, so that he was never more than four
hours out of doors; like a prisoner who is led from his cell once a
day to breathe the fresh air. But then how intense is the occupation
of each day! how various are the thoughts which occupy his mind during
his long solitary hours! With regard to mental exertion, the Emperor
said he felt as capable of bearing it as he had ever been; that he did
not feel himself worn out or withered in any respect. He was
astonished himself at the slight impression that had been made on him
by all the late events in which he had been the principal actor. It
was like lead which had passed over marble. The spring might have been
for a moment compressed, but it had not been broken, and had risen
again with all its elasticity. He did not think any one in the world
knew better than himself how to yield to necessity; this, he said, was
the real triumph of reason and strength of mind.

The hour for our ride had now arrived. As the Emperor was going to
meet the calash, he happened to see little Hortense, Madame Bertrand’s
daughter, whom he is very fond of. He called her to him, caressed her
two or three times, and took her out in the carriage along with little
Tristan de Montholon. During the drive, the Grand Marshal, who had
been looking over the papers, gave an account of some bons-mots and
caricatures he had found among them. One possessed a good deal of
point. The picture consisted of two actions; one represented Napoleon
giving to the Princess of Hasfield, with directions to commit it to
the flames, the letter whose disappearance saved her husband;
underneath was written, _Tyrannical Act of an Usurper_. The companion
was quite of another character. We described to the Emperor a great
number of the caricatures with which we had been inundated after the
restoration. Some of them afforded him great amusement. One in
particular made him smile: it referred to a change of dynasty.

The Emperor observed that, if caricatures sometimes avenge misfortune,
they form a continual annoyance to power. “I think I have had my share
of them,” said he. He then desired us to describe some of those which
had been made upon him, and very much approved of one as being in good
taste. It was a sketch representing George III. on the coast of
England, throwing an enormous beet-root, in a great passion, at the
head of Napoleon, who was on the opposite shore, and saying, “Go, and
be made sugar.”

THE EMPEROR’S LONG WALK.

12th.—Fine weather had now fairly set in. About four o’clock the
Emperor walked in the garden. The temperature was delightful, and we
all acknowledged that it was like one of our finest evenings in
Europe. We had enjoyed nothing equal to it since we had been on the
island. The Emperor ordered the calash; and by way of a change,
instead of driving along by the gum-trees, to get into the road
leading to the Grand Marshal’s house, he wished to take the road which
encircles the upper hollow of our favourite valley, and to gain, if
possible, the spot on which is situated the residence of Miss Mason,
and which is on the opposite side, facing Longwood. The Emperor
invited Madame Bertrand to take a drive in the calash, in which Madame
de Montholon and myself were already seated: the rest of our party
followed on horseback, so that we were now all assembled together. At
a few paces from Madame Bertrand’s, at the military post, which is
established near the house, the ground was very steep and uneven; the
horses refused to advance, and we were obliged to alight from the
calash. The barrier was scarcely wide enough to allow the carriage to
pass; but the English soldiers came to our assistance, and in a moment
pushed it through by main force. However, when we had reached the
hollow of the valley, we found walking so agreeable that the Emperor
wished to continue it; and, after a short time, he ordered the
carriage to be driven along the road as far as the gate of Miss
Mason’s house, while we proceeded with our walk in the valley. The
evening was really most delightful; the shades of night were beginning
to overspread the sky, but the moon shone brilliantly. Our walk
reminded us of those strolls which we had been accustomed to enjoy on
fine summer evenings, in the neighbourhood of our country residences
in Europe.

The calash had now returned; but the Emperor declined getting into it.
He directed that it should wait at Madame Bertrand’s door; but when
the Emperor got there, he chose to walk on to Longwood, where he
arrived very much fatigued. He had walked nearly six miles, which is a
great deal for him, who never was accustomed to walk at any period of
his life.

BAD TEMPERATURE OF ST. HELENA.—OBSERVATION ON
THE SPIRIT OF THIS JOURNAL.

13th—16th. I have already observed that there is no regular course of
seasons at St. Helena, but merely irregular successions of good and
bad weather. It would be difficult to find four words to express any
deviation from our accustomed routine, during these four days. And
here I take the opportunity of observing, once for all, that if, in
the course of my journal, the events of several days are occasionally
found combined in one article, it is because I have cancelled a
portion of the notes relating to each day separately. I have been
induced to do this from various motives. Sometimes my notes appeared
to me too puerile; sometimes, on the other hand, they seemed to be too
serious, and calculated for a more distant period; or occasionally
they consisted of personalities, and I make it a rule studiously to
avoid every thing of that kind. If, in spite of all my care, any
offensive personal allusions have escaped me, it can only be when I
have been led to them by the essential object of my journal; namely,
to describe the character of the Emperor. Even then, I may reflect,
for my own satisfaction, that these personalities relate only to
public characters, and refer to facts already circulated in the world.

I am, however, perfectly well aware that the task I have undertaken
may subject me to many inconveniences; but I consider it as a sacred
duty, and shall endeavour to fulfil it to the best of my abilities,
happen what will.

THE EMPEROR’S VIEWS OF FRENCH POLITICS.

17th.—At six o’clock in the morning, the Emperor mounted his horse,
and we rode round the park, commencing in the neighbourhood of our
valley, and proceeding as far as the road leading from the camp to the
Grand Marshal’s residence. A party of about 150 or 200 sailors,
belonging to the Northumberland, who were daily employed in removing
planks of wood or stones for the service of Longwood or the camp,
ranged themselves in a line fronting Marshal Bertrand’s house, while
the Emperor passed by. The Emperor spoke to the officers, and smiled
complacently on his old ship-mates; they appeared delighted at seeing
him.

I have already mentioned that we occasionally received parcels of
newspapers from Europe, the contents of which occupied our attention,
and occasioned the Emperor to draw some lively and animated pictures.
Conversing to-day on the subject of the intelligence we had recently
received, the Emperor observed that the condition of France was by no
means improved. “The Bourbons,” he repeated, “have now no other
resource than severity. Four months have already elapsed; the Allied
forces are about to be withdrawn, and none but half measures have been
taken. The affair has been badly managed. A government can exist only
by its principle. The principle of the French government evidently is
to return to old maxims; and it should do this openly. In present
circumstances, the Chambers, above all, will be fatal; they will
inspire the King with false confidence, and will have no weight with
the nation. The King will soon be deprived of all means of
communication with them. They will no longer follow the same religion,
nor speak the same language. No individual will henceforth have a
right to undeceive the people with regard to any absurdities that may
be propagated; even if it should be wished to make them believe that
all the springs of water are poisoned, and that trains of gunpowder
are laid under ground.” The Emperor concluded by observing that there
would be some juridical executions, and an extreme desire of
re-action, which would be sufficiently strong to irritate, but not to
subdue.

As to Europe, the Emperor considered it to be as violently agitated as
it had ever been. The powers of Europe had destroyed France, but she
might one day revive through commotions arising among the people of
different nations, whom the policy of the sovereigns was calculated to
alienate; the glory of France might also be restored through a
misunderstanding among the Allied powers themselves, which would
probably ensue.

As to our own personal affairs, they could only be improved through
the medium of England; and she could only be induced to favour us by
political interests, a change in her ministers or her sovereign, or
the sentiment of national glory excited by the torrent of public
opinion. As for political interests, there were circumstances which
might affect them; the change of individuals depends on accidents;
finally, with respect to the sentiment of national glory, so easy to
be understood, the present ministry had disavowed it, but another
might not be insensible to it.

PICTURE OF DOMESTIC HAPPINESS DRAWN BY
THE EMPEROR.—TWO YOUNG LADIES OF THE ISLAND.

18th.—The Emperor sent for me about ten o’clock; he had just returned
home. Some one had informed me that he had been out shooting; but he
said that he had not. He rode out on horseback as early as six
o’clock; but he gave orders that _His Excellency’s_ slumbers should
not be disturbed. We set to work with the English lesson. Breakfast
was served up; it was most detestable; and I could not refrain from
making the observation. He pitied me for making so bad a meal, and
added that it was certainly necessary to have a good appetite to make
a repast on such fare. We continued our lesson until nearly one
o’clock, when the excessive heat obliged us to desist, and take a
little repose.

About five the Emperor went to walk in the garden. He began to draw a
sketch of the happiness of a private man in easy circumstances,
peacefully enjoying life in his native province, in the house and
surrounded by the lands which he had inherited from his forefathers.
Certainly nothing could be more philosophic. We could not refrain from
smiling at the tranquil domestic picture, and some of us got our ears
pinched for our pains. “Felicity of this kind,” continued the Emperor,
“is now unknown in France except by tradition. The Revolution has
destroyed it. The old families have been deprived of this happiness,
and the new ones have not yet been long enough established in the
enjoyment of it. The picture which I have sketched has now no real
existence.”—He observed that, to be driven from our native home, from
the fields in which we had roamed in childhood, to possess no paternal
abode, was in reality to be deprived of a country. Some one here
remarked that the man who had been robbed of the home which he had
created for himself after the storm had blown over; who was driven
from the house in which he had dwelt with his wife, and which had been
the birth-place of his children; might truly say that he had lost a
second country. How many individuals are reduced to that extremity;
and what vicissitudes the present age has produced!

We seated ourselves in the calash, and took our accustomed airing.
During dinner, the conversation turned on two young ladies, residents
of the island: the one tall, handsome, and very fascinating; the other
not so pretty, but perfectly well bred, and pleasing in her deportment
and manners. Opinions were divided respecting them. The Emperor, who
was only acquainted with the one first described, declared himself in
her favour. Some one remarked that, if he were to see the second, he
would not be induced to change his mind. The Emperor then wished to
know the gentleman’s own opinion respecting the ladies, and he
replied, that he was an admirer of the second. This seemed rather
contradictory, and the Emperor requested him to explain himself.
“Why,” said he, “if I wished to purchase a slave, I should certainly
fix on the first; but if I thought I should derive any happiness from
becoming a slave myself, I should address myself to the second.”—“That
is to say,” resumed the Emperor, quickly, “that you have no very high
opinion of my taste?”—“Not so, Sire, but I suspect your Majesty’s
views and mine would be different.” The Emperor smiled, and said
nothing more on the subject.

19th.—The Emperor rode on horseback very early this morning; it was
scarcely six o’clock when he went out. I was quite ready; for I had
ordered some one to call me; and the Emperor was astonished to see me
so active. We strolled about the park at random, and returned about
nine: the sun was already beginning to be warm.

About four o’clock the Emperor wished to take his English lesson; but
he was not very well. He said that every thing had gone wrong with him
to-day; and that nothing had done him any good. His walk in the garden
did not restore him; he was not well at dinner-time. He did not play
his usual number of games at chess; but retired, indisposed, after the
first game.

THE EMPEROR’S WORKS IN THE ISLAND OF ELBA.—PREDILECTION
OF THE ALGERINES FOR THE EMPEROR.

20th.—The weather had been extremely bad. The Emperor had been rather
unwell the whole of the night, but felt himself much better in the
morning. He did not leave his room before five o’clock. About six we
took advantage of a gleam of fine weather to drive round the park in
the calash. The horses which have been provided for us are vicious;
they shy at the first object that comes in their way, and become
restive. They stood still several times during our drive. The rain,
indeed, had rendered the roads very heavy, and at one time it required
all our efforts to obviate the necessity of returning on foot. The
Grand Marshal and General Gourgaud were in one instance obliged to
alight and put their shoulders to the wheel. At length, after a great
deal of trouble we reached home. The conversation, during our drive,
turned on the Island of Elba. The Emperor spoke of the roads he had
made, and the houses he had built, which the best painters of Italy
begged, as a favour, to be permitted to adorn with their works.

The Emperor observed that his flag had become the first in the
Mediterranean. It was held sacred, he said, by the Barbary ships, who
usually made presents to the Elba Captains, telling them that they
were paying the debt of Moscow. The Grand Marshal told us that some
Barbary ships, having anchored off the Island of Elba, had caused
great alarm among the inhabitants, who questioned the pirates with
regard to their intentions, and ended by asking them plainly whether
they came with any hostile views.—“Against the Great Napoleon!” said
the Algerines: “Oh! never ... we do not wage war against God!”

Whenever the flag of the Island of Elba entered any of the ports of
the Mediterranean, Leghorn excepted, it was received with loud
acclamations: all the national feeling seemed to return. The crews of
some French ships from Britanny and Flanders, which touched at the
Island of Elba, testified the same sentiment.

“Every thing is judged by comparison in this world,” said the Emperor;
“the Island of Elba, which, a year ago, was thought so disagreeable,
is a paradise compared to St. Helena. As for this island, it may set
all future regret at defiance.”

PIONTKOWSKI.—CARICATURE.

21st—22nd. The Emperor continued to rise early and ride out on
horseback, in the park and among the gum-trees. He rode only at a
walking pace, but this light exercise was of advantage to him, as it
enabled him to enjoy the fresh air. He returned with a better
appetite, and pursued the occupations of the day with greater spirit.
He breakfasted in the garden, under some trees which had been twined
together to afford him a shade. One morning, as he was sitting down to
breakfast, he perceived at a distance the Pole Piontkowski, and sent
for him to breakfast with him. He always takes pleasure in conversing
with him whenever he meets him.

Piontkowski, with whose origin we are not very well acquainted, came
to the Island of Elba, and obtained permission to serve as a private
in the Guards. On the Emperor’s return from Elba, he had gained the
rank of lieutenant. When we departed from Paris, he received
permission to follow us; and we left him at Plymouth, among those who
were separated from us by order of the English ministers. Piontkowski,
having more fidelity, or more address, than his comrades, obtained
leave to come to St. Helena. The Emperor had never known, and never
spoken to him, till he came here.

Piontkowski was, indeed, equally unknown to us all. The English were
surprised that we did not give him a warmer greeting on his arrival.
Some individuals, who seized all opportunities of saying any thing to
our disadvantage, wrote to England that we had received Piontkowski
very ill. This story was totally false: but it furnished the English
ministerial prints with a subject on which to exercise their usual
courtesy and wit. It was asserted that the Emperor had beaten
Piontkowski; and I heard of a caricature in which Napoleon was seizing
the Polish officer in his talons, while I had leaped upon him to
devour him; and it was only by a stick being thrust between my teeth,
by the keeper of the beasts, that I was prevented from biting a
mouthful out of his shoulder. Such were the elegant accounts that were
given of us.

THE EMPEROR’S RETURN FROM ELBA.

24th.—After dinner, while we were taking our coffee, the Emperor
observed that, about this time last year, he quitted the Island of
Elba. The Grand Marshal informed him that it was on the 26th of
February and on a Sunday. “Sire,” said he, “you directed mass to be
performed at an earlier hour than usual, that you might have the more
time for issuing the necessary orders.”

They sailed in the afternoon, and next morning at ten o’clock they
were still within sight, to the great anxiety of those who were
interested in their success.

The Emperor entered into conversation on this subject, and was, for
upwards of an hour, engaged in describing the details of that event,
which is unparalleled in history, both for the boldness of the
enterprise, and the miracle of its execution. I shall insert in
another part of my journal, the particulars which I collected on this
subject.

CAMPAIGNS OF ITALY AND EGYPT.—THE EMPEROR’S OPINION OF THE GREAT FRENCH
POETS.—TRAGEDIES BY LATE WRITERS.—HECTOR.—THE ETATS DE BLOIS.—TALMA.

25th—28th. Our days were for the most part very much alike; if they
seemed long in detail, they were rapidly shortened in a retrospective
view. They were without character or interest, and left only imperfect
recollections behind. In English he went on gradually improving. The
Emperor confessed that he had felt a moment of disgust; his _furia
Francese_ had, he said, at one time, given way; but he added that I
had reanimated him by means of a plan which he considered more certain
and infallible than any other—that of reading and analyzing a single
page over and over again until it was thoroughly learnt. The
grammatical rules were explained by the way. In this manner, there is
not a moment lost to study and memory. The progress at first appears
slow, the learner seems to advance but little in his studies; but by
the time he has come to the fiftieth page, he is astonished to find
that he knows the language. We had added a page of Telemachus to the
rest of our lesson, and we found the benefit of it. By this time,
however, the Emperor, though he had only had twenty or twenty-five
complete lessons, could understand any book; and would have been able
to make himself understood in writing. He did not comprehend all that
was said, it is true; but, as he observed, nothing could be concealed
from him for the future, and this was a great thing—this was a decided
victory.

The Campaign of Egypt was completed with the assistance of Bertrand,
as far as the want of materials would permit. The Emperor now
commenced, with another of the gentlemen, a new and very important
period; namely—from his departure from Fontainebleau, up to his return
to Paris and his second abdication. He possessed no document relating
to these rapid events; but it was that very rapidity which induced me
to entreat him to employ his memory in recording circumstances which
the hurry of events or party spirit might enfeeble or distort.

The Emperor also employed himself very frequently with me, in revising
the different chapters of the Campaign of Italy; this was generally
done immediately before dinner. He had directed me to arrange each
chapter in a regular and uniform manner; to mark out the proper
divisions of the paragraphs, and to note down and collect the
illustrative articles. This he called the digestive business of an
editor. “And your interest is concerned in it,” said he to me one day,
with an air of kindness which affected me; “henceforward it is your
property: the Campaign of Italy shall bear your name, and the Campaign
of Egypt that of Bertrand. I intend that it shall add at once to your
fortune and to your fame. There will be at least a hundred thousand
francs in your pocket, and your name will last as long as the
remembrance of my battles.”

With regard to our evenings, the _reversis_ had been relinquished a
second time; we could not continue it long. After the second or third
round, the cards were abandoned for conversation. We resumed our
readings: our stock of novels was exhausted, and plays occupied our
attention for the future, tragedies in particular. The Emperor is
uncommonly fond of analyzing them, which he does in a singular mode of
reasoning, and with great taste. He remembers an immense quantity of
poetry, which he learned when he was eighteen years old, at which
time, he says, he knew much more than he does at present. The Emperor
is delighted with Racine, in whom he finds a profusion of beauties. He
greatly admires Corneille, but thinks very little of Voltaire, who, he
says, is full of bombast and tinsel: always incorrect; unacquainted
either with men or things, with truth or the sublimity of the passions
of mankind.