Chapter VIII: Part 8

“The prevalence of this report, however, induced me to seek to discover what could have given rise to it, and these are the facts which I collected:—at the period of the good understanding between France and Prussia, and while that state was endeavouring to ingratiate herself in our favour, she caused inquiry to be made whether France would take umbrage at her allowing the French Princes to remain in the Prussian territories, to which the French Government answered in the negative. Emboldened by this reply, Prussia next enquired whether we should feel any great repugnance to furnish them, through her medium, with an annual allowance. To this our government also replied in the negative, provided that Prussia would be responsible for their remaining quiet, and abstaining from all intrigue. The negotiation of this affair being once set on foot between the two countries, Heaven knows what the zeal of some agent, or even the doctrines of the Court of Berlin, which did not accord with ours, may have proposed. This furnished, no doubt, the motive and pretext, if indeed any really existed, for the fine letter of Louis XVIII., to which all the members of his family so ostentatiously adhered. The French Princes eagerly seized that opportunity of reviving the interest and attention of Europe, which had been by this time totally withdrawn from them.”

OCCUPATIONS OF THE DAY.—COUNCIL OF STATE.—DISGRACE
OF PORTALIS.—DISSOLUTION OF THE LEGISLATIVE
BODY, IN 1813.—THE SENATE.

November 1st—4th. Our days now passed away in the same uniformity as those which we spent on board the vessel. The Emperor summoned me to breakfast with him about ten or eleven o’clock. That meal being concluded, after half an hour’s conversation, I read to him what he had dictated the evening before, and he renewed his dictations. The Emperor discontinued his practice of dressing as soon as he rose, and walking before breakfast, which had broken up his day too much, and rendered it too long. He never dressed now till about four o’clock. He then walked out, to give the servants an opportunity of making his bed, and cleaning his room. We walked in the garden, which he particularly liked, on account of its solitude. I had the little arbour covered with a canvass, and ordered a table and chairs to be placed in it; and the Emperor henceforward chose this spot for dictating to such of the gentlemen as came from the town for that purpose.

In front of Mr. Balcombe’s house there was a walk bordered by some trees. It was here that the two English soldiers had posted themselves for the purpose of watching us. They were, however, at length removed, by desire of Mr. Balcombe, who felt offended at the circumstance on his own account. Nevertheless, they still continued for some time to move about, so as to get a sight of the Emperor; either attracted by curiosity, or acting in obedience to their orders. At length they entirely disappeared, and the Emperor gradually took possession of this lower walk. This was quite an acquisition to his domain; and he walked here every day before dinner. The two young ladies, with their mother, joined him in this walk, and told him the news. He sometimes returned to the garden after dinner, when the weather permitted; he was then enabled to spend the evening without paying a visit to his neighbours, which he never did when he could avoid it, nor ever till he was satisfied that no stranger was there, which I always ascertained previously, by peeping through the window.

In one of his walks, the Emperor conversed much on the subject of the Senate, the Legislative Body, and particularly the Council of State. The latter, he said, had been of considerable service to him during the whole course of his administration. I will here note down some remarks relative to the Council of State, the more readily, as it was very little understood at the time in the drawing-rooms of Paris; and as it does not now exist on the same footing as formerly, I shall insert, as I proceed, a few lines on its mechanism and prerogatives.

“The Council of State,” said the Emperor, “was generally composed of well-informed, skilful, and honest men. Fermont and Boulay, for example, were certainly of this class. Notwithstanding the immense law-suits which they conducted, and the vast emoluments they enjoyed, I should not be surprised to learn that they are not now in very flourishing circumstances.” The Emperor employed the councillors of state individually in every case, and with advantage. As a whole, they were his real council—his mind in deliberation, as the ministers were his mind in execution. At the Council of State were prepared the laws which the Emperor presented to the Legislative Body, a circumstance which rendered it altogether one of the elements of the legislative power. In the Council, the Emperor’s decrees and his rules of public administration were drawn up; and there the plans of his ministers were examined, discussed, and corrected.

The Council of State received appeals and pronounced finally on all administrative judgments; and incidentally on those of all other tribunals, even those of the Court of Cassation. There were examined complaints against the ministers, and appeals from the Emperor to the Emperor better informed. Thus the Council of State, at which the Emperor uniformly presided, being frequently in direct opposition to the ministers, or occupied in reforming their acts and errors, naturally became the point of refuge for persons or interests aggrieved by any authority whatever. All who were ever present at the meetings of the council must know with what zeal the cause of the citizens was there defended. A committee of the Council of State received all the petitions of the Empire, and laid before the Sovereign those which deserved his attention.

With the exception of lawyers and persons employed in the administration, it is surprising how far the rest of society were ignorant of our political legislation. No one had a correct idea of the Council of State, of the Legislative Body, or of the Senate. It was received, for example, as an established fact, that the Legislative Body, like an assembly of mutes, passively adopted, without the least opposition, all the laws which were presented to it; that which belonged to the nature and excellence of the institution was attributed to its complaisance and servility.

The laws which were prepared in the Council of State were presented by commissioners, chosen from that council, to a committee of the Legislative Body appointed to receive them; they were there amicably discussed, and were often quietly referred back to the Council of State to receive some modifications. When the two deputations could not come to an understanding, they proceeded to hold regular conferences, under the presidency of the Arch-chancellor or the Arch-treasurer; so that, before these laws reached the Legislative Body, they had already received the assent of the two opposite parties. If any difference existed, it was discussed by the two committees, in the presence of the whole of the Legislative Body, performing the functions of a jury; which, as soon as its members had become sufficiently acquainted with the facts, pronounced its decision by a secret scrutiny. Thus every individual had an opportunity of freely giving his opinion, as it was impossible to know whether he had put in a black or a white ball. “No plan,” said the Emperor, “could have been better calculated to correct our national effervescence and our inexperience in matters of political liberty.”

The Emperor asked me whether I thought discussion perfectly free in the Council of State, or whether his presence did not impose a restraint on the deliberations? I reminded him of a very long debate, during which he had remained throughout singular in his opinion, and had at last been obliged to yield. He immediately recollected the circumstance. “Oh, yes,” said he, “that must have been in the case of a woman of Amsterdam, who had been tried for her life and acquitted three several times by the Imperial Courts, but against whom a fresh trial was demanded in the Court of Cassation.” The Emperor hoped that this happy concurrence of the law might have exhausted its severity in favour of the prisoner; that this lucky fatality of circumstances might have turned to her advantage. It was urged in reply that he possessed the beneficent power of bestowing pardon; but that the law was inflexible, and must take its course. The debate was a very long one. M. Muraire spoke a great deal, and very much to the point; he persuaded every one except the Emperor, who still remained singular in his opinion, and at length yielded, with these remarkable words:—“Gentlemen, the decision goes by the majority here, I remain single, and must yield; but I declare, in my conscience, that I yield only to forms. You have reduced me to silence, but by no means convinced me.”

So little was the nature of the Council of State understood by people in general that it was believed no one dared utter a word in that assembly in opposition to the Emperor’s opinion. Thus I very much surprised many persons when I related the fact that, one day, during a very animated debate, the Emperor, having been interrupted three times in giving his opinion, turned towards the individual who had rather rudely cut him short, and said in a sharp tone: “I have not yet done; I beg you will allow me to continue. I believe every one here has a right to deliver his opinion.” The smartness of this reply, notwithstanding the solemnity of the occasion, excited a general laugh, in which the Emperor himself joined.

“Yet,” said I to him, “the speakers evidently sought to discover what might be your Majesty’s opinion: they seemed to congratulate themselves when their views coincided with yours, and to be embarrassed on finding themselves maintaining opposite sentiments. You were accused, too, of laying snares for us, in order to discover our real opinion.” However, when the question was once started, self-love and the warmth of argument contributed, along with the freedom of discussion which the Emperor encouraged, to induce every one to maintain his own opinion. “I do not mind being contradicted,” said the Emperor; “I seek to be informed. Speak boldly,” he would repeat, whenever the speaker expressed himself equivocally, or the subject was a delicate one; “tell me all that you think; we are alone here; we are all _en famille_.”

I have been informed that, under the Consulate, or at the commencement of the Empire, the Emperor opposed an opinion of one of the members, and, through the warmth and obstinacy of the latter, the affair at length amounted absolutely to a personal misunderstanding. Napoleon commanded his temper, and was silent; but a few days after, seeing his antagonist at one of the public audiences, he said to him, in a half-earnest manner, “You are extremely obstinate; and if I were equally so!——At all events, you are in the wrong to put power to the trial! You should not be unmindful of human weakness!”

On another occasion, he said in private to one of the members who had likewise driven him to the utmost extreme, “You must take a little more care to consult my temper. You lately rather exceeded the bounds of discretion: you obliged me to have recourse to scratching my forehead. That is a very ominous sign with me: avoid urging me so far for the future.”

Nothing could equal the interest which the presence and the words of the Emperor excited in the Council of State. He presided there regularly twice a week when he was in town, and then none of us would have been absent for the whole world.

I told the Emperor that two sittings in particular had made the deepest impression on me: one entirely of sentiment, relating to matters of internal police, in which he had expelled one of the members of the Council; the other of constitutional decision, in which he had dissolved the Legislative Body.

A religious party was fomenting civil discord in the State, by secretly circulating bulls and letters from the Pope. They were shewn to a Councillor of State, appointed to superintend religious worship; and who, if he did not himself circulate them, at least neither prevented nor denounced their circulation. This was discovered, and the Emperor suddenly challenged him with the fact in open Council. “What could have been your motive, sir?” said he: “were you influenced by your religious principles? If so, why are you here? I use no control over the conscience of any man. Did I force you to become my Councillor of State? On the contrary, you solicited the post as a high favour. You are the youngest member of the Council, and perhaps the only one who has not some personal claim to that honour; you had nothing to recommend you but the inheritance of your father’s services. You took a personal oath to me; how could your religious feelings permit you openly to violate that oath, as you have just now done? Speak, however; you are here in confidence: your colleagues shall be your judges. Your crime is a great one, sir. A conspiracy for the commission of a violent act is stopped as soon as we seize the arm that holds the poniard. But a conspiracy to influence the public mind has no en: it is like a train of gunpowder. Perhaps, at this very moment, whole towns are thrown into commotion through your fault!” The Councillor, quite confused, said nothing in reply: the first word had sufficed to convict him. The members of the council, to the majority of whom this event was quite unexpected, were struck with astonishment, and observed profound silence.—“Why,” continued the Emperor, “did you not, according to the obligation imposed by your oath, discover to me the criminal and his plots? Am I not at all times accessible to everyone of you?” “Sire,” said the Councillor, at length venturing to reply, “he was my cousin.”—“Your crime is then the greater, sir,” replied the Emperor sharply; “your kinsman could only have been placed in office at your solicitation: from that moment all the responsibility devolved on you. When I look upon a man as entirely devoted to me, as your situation ought to render you, all who are connected with him, and all for whom he becomes responsible, from that time require no watching. These are my maxims.” The accused member still remained silent, and the Emperor continued: “The duties which a Councillor of State owes to me are immense. You, sir, have violated those duties, and you hold the office no longer. Begone: let me never see you here again!” The disgraced Councillor, as he was withdrawing, passed very near the Emperor: the latter looked at him and said, “I am sincerely grieved at this, sir, for the services of your father are still fresh in my memory.” When he was gone, the Emperor added, “I hope such a scene as this may never be renewed; it has done me too much harm.—I am not distrustful, but I might become so! I have allowed myself to be surrounded by every party; I have placed near my person even emigrants and soldiers of the army of Condé; and, though it was wished to induce them to assassinate me, yet, to do them justice, they have continued faithful. Since I have held the reins of government, this is the first individual employed about me, by whom I have been betrayed.” And then, turning towards M. Locré, who took notes of the debates of the Council of State, he said, “write down _betrayed_—do you hear?”

What an interesting collection were those reports of M. Locré! What has become of them? All that I have here related would be found in them word for word.

With respect to the dissolution of the Legislative Body, the Council of State was convoked either on the last day, or the last day but one of December, 1813. We knew that the debate would be an important one, without however knowing its object: the crisis was of the most serious nature, the enemy was entering on the French territory.

“Gentlemen,” said the Emperor, “you are aware of the situation of affairs, and the dangers to which the country is exposed. I thought it right, without being obliged to do so, to forward a private communication on the subject to the Deputies of the Legislative Body. I wished thus to have associated them with their dearest interests: but they have converted this act of my confidence into a weapon against me; that is to say, against the country. Instead of assisting me with all their efforts, they seek to obstruct mine. Our attitude alone would be sufficient to check the advance of the enemy, while their conduct invites him; instead of shewing him a front of brass, they unveil to him our wounds. They stun me with their clamorous demands for peace, while the only means to obtain it was to recommend war; they complain of me, and speak of their grievances; but what time, what place, do they select for so doing? These are subjects to be discussed in private, and not in the presence of the enemy. Was I inaccessible to them? Did I ever shew myself incapable of arguing reasonably? It is time, however, to come to a resolution: the Legislative Body, instead of assisting me in saving France, wishes to accelerate her ruin. The Legislative Body has betrayed its duty—I fulfil mine—I dissolve it.”

He then ordered the reading of a decree, the purport of which was that two-fifths of the Legislative Body had already gone beyond their power; that on the first of January another fifth would be in the same situation, and that consequently the majority of the Legislative Body would then be composed of members who had no right to be in it; that, in consideration of these circumstances, it was, from that moment, prorogued and adjourned, until fresh elections should be made.

After the reading of this document, the Emperor continued: “Such is the decree which I issue; and were I assured that it would bring the people of Paris in a crowd to the Tuileries to murder me this very day, I would still issue it; for such is my duty. When the people of France placed their destinies in my hands, I took into consideration the laws by which I was to govern them: had I thought those laws insufficient, I should not have accepted them. I am not a Louis XVI. Daily vacillations must not be expected from me. Though I have become Emperor, I have not ceased to be a citizen. If anarchy were to resume her sway, I would abdicate and mingle with the crowd to enjoy my share of the sovereignty, rather than remain at the head of a system in which I should only compromise all, without being able to protect any one. Besides,” concluded he, “my determination is conformable to the law; and if every one here will do his duty this day, I shall be invincible behind the shelter of the law as well as before the enemy.” But, alas! every one did not perform his duty!

Contrary to the received opinion, the Emperor was far from being of an arbitrary temper, and he was so willing to make concessions to his Council of State that he has frequently been known to submit to discussion, or even to annul a decision that he had adopted, because one of the members might afterwards privately advance new arguments, or hint that the personal opinion of the Emperor had influenced the majority. Let the chiefs of the sections be referred to on this head.

The Emperor was accustomed to communicate to members of the Institute every scientific idea that occurred to him, and also to submit his political ideas to Councillors of State: he often did this with private, and even secret, views. It was a sure way, he said, to go to the heart of a question; to ascertain the powers of a man and his political bias; to take measure of his discretion, &c. I know that in the year XII. he submitted to three Councillors of State the consideration of a very extraordinary question: namely, the suppression of the Legislative Body. It was approved by the majority; but one opposed it strenuously; he spoke at great length, and much to the purpose. The Emperor, who had listened to the discussion with great attention and gravity, without uttering a single word, or suffering any indication of his opinion to escape him, closed the sitting by observing, “A question of so serious a nature deserves to be maturely considered; we will resume the subject.” But it was never again brought forward.

It would have been well had the same precautions been adopted at the time of the suppression of the Tribunate; for that has always continued to be a great subject of declamation and reproach. As for the Emperor, he viewed it merely as the suppression of an expensive abuse, and an important economical measure.

“It is certain,” said he, “that the Tribunate was absolutely useless, while it cost nearly half a million; I therefore suppressed it. I was well aware that an outcry would be raised against the violation of the law; but I was strong: I possessed the full confidence of the people, and I considered myself a reformer. This at least is certain, that I did all for the best. I should, on the contrary, have created the Tribunate, had I been hypocritical or evil-disposed; for who can doubt that it would have adopted and sanctioned, when necessary, my views and intentions? But that was what I never sought after in the whole course of my administration. I never purchased any vote or decision by promises, money, or places; and if I distributed favours to ministers, councillors of state, and legislators, it was because there were things to give away, and it was natural and even just that they should be dealt out among those whose avocations brought them in contact with me.

“In my time all constituted bodies were pure and irreproachable: and I can firmly declare that they acted from conviction. Malevolence and folly may have asserted the contrary; but without ground. If those bodies were condemned, it was by persons who knew them not, or wished not to know them: and the reproaches that were levelled at them, must be attributed to the discontent or opposition of the time; and above all, to that spirit of envy, detraction, and ridicule, which is so peculiarly natural to the French people. The Senate has been much abused; great outcry has been raised against its servility and baseness; but declamation is not proof. What was the Senate expected to do? To refuse conscripts? Was it wished that the committees of personal liberty and of the liberty of the press should bring disgrace upon the Government? or that the Senate should do what was done in 1813 by a committee of the Legislative body? But where did that measure lead us? I doubt whether the French people are now very grateful for it. The truth is that we were placed in forced and unnatural circumstances: men of understanding knew this, and accommodated themselves to the urgency of the moment. It is not known that, in almost every important measure, the senators, before they gave their vote, came to communicate to me privately, and sometimes very decidedly, their objections, and even their refusal; and they went away convinced either by my arguments or by the necessity and urgency of affairs. If I never gave publicity to this fact, it was because I governed conscientiously, and because I despised quackery, and every thing like it.

“The votes of the Senate was always unanimous, because their conviction was universal. Endeavours were made at the time to cry up an insignificant minority, whom the hypocritical praises of malevolence, together with their own vanity, or some other perversity of character, excited to harmless opposition. But did the individuals composing that minority evince, in the last crisis, either sound heads or sincere hearts? I once more repeat that the career of the Senate was irreproachable; the moment of its fall was alone disgraceful and culpable. Without right, without power, and in violation of every principle, the Senate surrendered France, and accomplished her ruin. That body was the sport of high intriguers, whose interest it was to discredit and degrade it, and to ruin one of the great bases of the modern system. It may be truly said that they succeeded completely; for I know of no body that ought to be described in history with more ignominy than the French Senate. However, it is but just to observe that the stain rests not on the majority, and that among the delinquents there was a multitude of foreigners, who will at least be in future indifferent to our honour and interests.”

On the arrival of the Count d’Artois, the Council of State exerted every effort to attract his attention, and secure his favour. A deputation of the Council was twice presented to him, and permission was solicited to send one to meet the King at Compèigne. To this solicitation the Lieutenant-General of the kingdom replied, that the King would willingly receive the individual members of the Council; but that the sending of a deputation was a thing not to be thought of. It is true that the _gros bonnets_, that is to say the Chiefs of the Section, were absent. All this agitation had no other object than to insure the payment of their salary, and, perhaps, the retention of their places. Thus the Council of State immediately signed its adherence to the resolutions of the Senate, avoiding, it is true, every expression that might be offensive to Napoleon; “And you signed it,” said the Emperor. “No, Sire, I declined signing that adherence, on the ground that it was an egregious piece of folly to endeavour to remain successively the councillor and the confidential servant of two antagonists; and that, besides, if the conqueror were wise, the best pledge that could be offered to his notice would be fidelity and respect towards the conquered party.”—“And you reasoned rightly,” observed Napoleon.

5th.—Nearly all our party were assembled round the Emperor in the garden. Those who were lodged in the town complained much of the inconvenience and continual vexations to which they were exposed. The Emperor, for the last fortnight, had laid down the rule of making no communication on this head, except in writing, which he conceived to be the manner most suitable and best calculated to produce the wished-for result. He had drawn up a note on this subject, which should have been delivered some days ago, but which had been neglected. He alluded several times to this business, and in a tone of displeasure. All his indirect arguments and observations applied to the Grand Marshal. The latter at length took umbrage: for who is not rendered irritable by misfortune? He expressed himself in rather pointed language. His wife, who was standing near the garden-gate, despairing of being able to appease the storm, withdrew. I had now an opportunity of observing how the impressions produced by this circumstance succeeded each other with rapidity in the Emperor’s mind. Reason, logic, and it may be added, sentiment, always prevailed.—“If,” said he, “you did not deliver the letter because you considered it to be couched in offensive terms, you performed a duty of friendship; but surely this did not require a delay of more than twenty-four hours. A fortnight has elapsed without your mentioning it to me. If the plan was faulty, if the letter was ill-expressed, why not have told me so? I should have assembled you all to discuss the matter with me.”

We all stood near the arbour at the extremity of the path, while the Emperor walked to and fro before us. At a moment, when he had gone to a little distance from us, and was out of hearing, the Grand Marshal, addressing himself to me, said:—“I fear I have expressed myself improperly, and I am sorry for it.”—“We will leave you alone with him,” said I; “you will soon make him forget the offence.” I accordingly beckoned the other individuals who were present to leave the garden.

In the evening, the Emperor, conversing with me about the events of the morning, said:—“It was after we had made it up with the Grand Marshal—It was before the misunderstanding with the Grand Marshal,”—and other things of the same sort, which proved that the affair had left no impression on his heart.

THE GENERALS OF THE ARMY OF ITALY.—ANCIENT ARMIES.—GENGISKAN.—MODERN
INVASIONS.—CHARACTER OF CONQUERORS.

6th.—The Emperor was somewhat unwell, and employed himself in writing in his chamber. He dictated to me the portraits of the Generals of the army of Italy—Massena, Augereau, Serrurier, &c. Massena was endowed with extraordinary courage and firmness, which seemed to increase in excess of danger. When conquered, he was always as ready to fight the battle again as though he had been the conqueror. Augereau, on the contrary, seemed to be tired and disheartened by victory, of which he always had enough. His person, his manners, and his language, gave him the air of a bravo. This, however, says the narration, he was far from being, when he once found himself sated with honours and riches, which he had bestowed upon himself on every occasion that offered, and by every means in his power. Serrurier, who retained the manners and severity of an old major of infantry, was an honest and trustworthy man; but an unfortunate general, &c.

Among the various subjects of the day’s conversation, I note down what the Emperor said respecting the armies of the Ancients. He asked whether the accounts of the great armies mentioned in history were to be credited. He was of opinion that those statements were false and absurd. He placed no faith in the descriptions of the innumerable armies of the Carthaginians in Sicily. “Such a multitude of troops,” he observed, “would have been useless in so inconsiderable an enterprise; and if Carthage could have assembled such a force, a still greater one would have been raised in Hannibal’s expedition, which was of much greater importance, but in which not more than forty or fifty thousand men were employed.” He did not believe the accounts of the millions of men composing the forces of Darius and Xerxes, which might have covered all Greece, and which would doubtless have been subdivided into a multitude of partial armies. He even doubted the whole of that brilliant period of Greek history; and he regarded the famous Persian war only as a series of those undecided actions, in which each party claims the victory. Xerxes returned triumphant, after taking, burning, and destroying Athens; and the Greeks exulted in their victory, because they had not surrendered at Salamis. “With regard to the pompous accounts of the conquests of the Greeks, and the defeat of their numberless enemies, it must be recollected,” observed the Emperor, “that the Greeks, who wrote them, were a vain and hyperbolical people; and that no Persian chronicle has ever been produced to set our judgment right by contrary statements.”

But the Emperor attached credit to Roman history, if not in its details, at least in its results; because these were facts as clear as day-light. He also believed the descriptions of the armies of Gengiskan and Tamerlane, however numerous they are said to have been; because they were followed by gregarious nations, who, on their part, were joined by other wandering tribes as they advanced; “and it is not impossible,” observed the Emperor, “that Europe may one day end thus. The revolution produced by the Huns, the cause of which is unknown, because the tract is lost in the desert, may at a future period be renewed.”

The situation of Russia is admirably calculated to assist her in bringing about such a catastrophe. She may collect at will numberless auxiliaries, and scatter them over Europe. The wandering tribes of the north will be the better disposed and the more impatient to engage in such enterprises, in proportion as their imaginations have been fired, and their avarice excited, by the successes of those of their countrymen who lately visited us.

The conversation next turned on conquests and conquerors; and the Emperor observed that, to be a successful conqueror, it was necessary to be ferocious, and that, if he had been such, he might have conquered the world. I presumed to dissent from this opinion, which was doubtless expressed in a moment of vexation. I represented that he, Napoleon, was precisely a proof of the contrary; that he had not been ferocious, and yet had conquered the world; and that, with the manners of modern times, ferocity would certainly never have raised him to so high a point. I added that, at the present day, terror could never subject us to the control of an individual man; and that dominion was to be secured only by good laws, joined to greatness of character, and that degree of energy, which is proof against every trial, in him who is charged with the execution of the laws. These, I affirmed, were precisely the causes of Napoleon’s success, and of the submission and obedience of the people over whom he ruled.

The Convention was ferocious, and inspired terror: it was submitted to, but could not be endured. Had the power been vested in an individual, his overthrow would soon have been accomplished. But the Convention was a hydra, yet how many attempts were hazarded for its destruction!—how many dangers did it escape as if by miracle! It was reduced to the necessity of burying itself amidst its triumphs.

For a conqueror to be ferocious, with success, he must of necessity command troops who are themselves ferocious, and he must wield dominion over unenlightened people. In this respect Russia possesses an immense superiority over the rest of Europe. She has the rare advantage of possessing a civilized government, and barbarous subjects. There, information directs and commands, while ignorance executes and destroys. A Turkish Sultan could not long govern any enlightened European nation; the empire of knowledge would be too strong for his power.

Speaking on another subject, the Emperor observed that, if the French people had less energy than the Romans, they at least evinced greater decorum. We should not have killed ourselves, as the Romans did under the first Emperors; but at the same time we should have afforded no examples of the turpitude and servility that marked the later periods of the Roman empire. “Even in our most corrupt days,” said he, “our baseness was not without certain restrictions: courtiers, whom the sovereign could have prevailed on to do any thing in his own palace, would have refused to bend the knee to him at his levee.”

I have already mentioned that we had with us scarcely any document relative to French affairs during the Emperor’s time. The books that had been brought among his effects were merely a few classics which he carried about with him in all his campaigns. I received from Major Hudson, resident in the island, a political compendium from 1793 to 1807, entitled “The Annual Register,” which contains the succession of political events during each year, together with some of the most important official documents. In our destitute circumstances this was a valuable acquisition.

IDEAS.—PLANS.—POLITICAL SUGGESTIONS, &C.

7th.—The Emperor breakfasted alone, and was engaged during the day in dictating to the Grand Marshal and M. de Montholon.

In the evening, as the Emperor and I were walking together in the lower path, which had now become the favourite resort, I informed him that a person of consequence, whose ideas and statements might become the channel of mediation between ourselves and the ruling world, and influence our future destiny, had, with sufficiently significant forms and preambles, invited us to tell him conscientiously what we believed to be the Emperor’s notions on certain political subjects:—whether he had granted his last constitution with the intention of maintaining it;—whether he had sincerely abandoned his former plans as to the great empire;—whether he would consent to leave England in the enjoyment of her maritime supremacy, without envying her the tranquil possession of India;—whether he would be willing to renounce the Colonies, and to purchase colonial goods from the English alone, at the regular market price;—whether he would not form an alliance with the Americans, in case of their rupture with England;—whether he would consent to the existence of a great kingdom in Germany, for that branch of the English royal family which must immediately forfeit the throne of Great Britain on the accession of the Princess Charlotte of Wales, or, in default of Germany, whether he would consent to the establishment of that dominion in Portugal, in case England should conclude arrangements to that effect with the Court of Brazil.

These questions did not rest on vague ideas or idle opinions: the individual supported them on positive facts. “We want,” said he, “a long and lasting peace on the Continent—we want the tranquil enjoyment of our present advantages, to help us out of the critical circumstances in which we are now involved, and to relieve us from the enormous debt with which we are burthened. The present state of France and of Europe,” added he, “cannot bring about these results. The victory of Waterloo has ruined you; but it was far from saving us; every sensible man in England, every one who escapes the momentary influence of passion, either does think, or will think, as I do.”

The Emperor doubted a part of this statement, and treated the rest as a reverie; then, changing his tone, he said to me, “Well, what is your opinion? Come, sir, you are now in the Council of State.”—“Sire,” I replied, “people often indulge in reveries on the most serious subjects; and our being imprisoned at St. Helena does not hinder us from composing romances. Here then is one. Why not form a political marriage between the two nations, in which the one would bring the army as a dowry: and the other the navy? This will doubtless appear an absurd idea in the eyes of the vulgar, and will perhaps be thought too bold by well-informed people, because it is entirely novel and out of the usual routine. But it is one of those unforeseen, luminous and useful creations of plans which characterize your Majesty. You alone can cause it to be listened to, and carry it into effect.”

Going even beyond the ideas of our English interlocutor, I said, “Would not your Majesty give to-morrow, if you could, the whole French navy to purchase Belgium and the bank of the Rhine? Would you not give one hundred and fifty millions to purchase tens of thousands of millions? Besides, such a bargain would procure to both nations at once the object for which they have been wrangling and fighting for so many years; it would reduce both countries to the necessity of mutually assisting each other, instead of maintaining perpetual enmity. Would it be nothing for France that her merchants in the English colonies should henceforward be on the footing of Englishmen; and thus secure, without striking a blow, the enjoyment of the trade of the whole world? Would it not be every thing for England, on the other hand, for the sake of insuring to herself the sovereignty of the ocean, the universality of trade (for obtaining and preserving which she has incurred so many risks), to attach France to a system by which the latter would become the regulator and arbitrator of the Continent?

“Henceforth secure from danger, and strengthened by all the power of her ally, England might disband her army, in return for the sacrifice which France would make of her navy. She might even reduce considerably the number of her ships. She would thus pay her debt, relieve her people, and prosper; and, far from envying France, she would (the system being once fairly understood, and passion having given place to real interests) herself labour for the Continental aggrandizement of her neighbour; for France would then be merely the advance-guard, while England would be the resource and the reserve. Unity of legislation between the two nations, their common interests, results so visibly advantageous, would make amends for all the obstacles and difficulties which the passions of rulers might oppose to the fulfilment of this plan.”

The Emperor heard me, but made no reply: it is seldom that one can ascertain his private opinions, and he rarely enters into political conversations. Lest I should not have expressed myself with sufficient clearness, I requested that he would permit me to unfold my ideas in writing. He consented, and said no more. It was now very late, and he retired to rest.

8th.—The Emperor dictated in the garden to Messrs. Montholon and Gourgaud, and then walked on his favourite path. He was fatigued and indisposed. He observed some females about to advance on the path, and to throw themselves awkwardly in his way, for the sake of being introduced to him; this annoyed him, and he turned away to avoid meeting them.

I suggested that riding on horseback might be beneficial to him; we had three horses at our disposal. The Emperor replied that he never could reconcile himself to the idea of having an English officer constantly at his side; that he decidedly renounced riding on such conditions; adding, that every thing in life must be reduced to calculation, and that, if the vexation arising from the sight of his jailor were greater than the advantage he might derive from riding, it was of course advisable to renounce the recreation altogether.

The Emperor ate but little dinner. During the dessert he amused himself in examining the paintings on some plates of very beautiful Sevres porcelain. They were masterpieces in their kind, and were worth thirty Napoleons each. The paintings represented views or objects of antiquity in Egypt.

The Emperor closed the day with a walk on his favourite path. He remarked that he had been very dull all day. After several broken conversations, he looked at his watch, and was very glad to find it was half-past ten.

The weather was delicious, and the Emperor insensibly recovered his usual spirits. He complained of his constitution, which, though vigorous, occasionally exposed him to fits of indisposition. He, however, consoled himself with the thought that if, in imitation of the ancients, he should ever feel inclined to escape from the disgusts and vexations of life, his moral opinions were not of a nature to prevent him. He said that sometimes he could not reflect without horror on the many years he might still have to live, and on the inutility of a protracted old age; and that, if he were convinced France was happy and tranquil, and not needing his aid, he should have lived long enough.

We ascended to the pavilion, it was past midnight, and we thought we had gained a signal victory over time.

9th.—I called on Mr. Balcombe very early, to deliver to him my letters for Europe, as a vessel was on the point of sailing. At Mr. Balcombe’s house I met the officer who had been appointed as our guard. Struck with the dejection which I had observed in the Emperor the day before, and convinced of the necessity of his taking exercise, I told the officer that I suspected the reason which prevented the Emperor from riding on horseback; I added, that I would speak to him the more candidly and openly, since I had noticed the very delicate way in which he discharged his duty. I inquired what were his instructions, and whether it would be necessary to observe them literally, in case the Emperor merely took a ride round the house; adverting to the repugnance which he must naturally feel for arrangements that were calculated every moment to revive the recollection of the situation in which he was placed. I assured the officer that no reflections were intended to be cast on him personally, and that I was convinced, when the Emperor wished to take long rides, he would prefer having him to accompany him. The officer replied that his instructions were to follow the Emperor; but that, as he made it a rule not to do any thing that might be offensive to him, he would take upon himself not to accompany him.

At breakfast I communicated to the Emperor the conversation I had had with the Captain. He replied that it was all well meant on the Captain’s part; but that _he_ should not avail himself of the indulgence, as it was not conformable with his sentiments to enjoy an advantage which might be the means of compromising an officer.

This determination was very fortunate. When I went to Mr. Balcombe’s in the evening, the Captain took me aside to inform me that he had been to the town, in the course of the day, to speak with the Admiral respecting our morning’s conversation, and that he had been enjoined to abide by his instructions. I could not refrain from replying, somewhat sharply, that I was certain the Emperor would immediately send back the three horses that had been assigned for his use. The officer, to whom I had also communicated the reply which the Emperor had given me in the morning relative to him, observed that it would be very right to send back the horses, and that he thought nothing better could be done. This remark appeared to me to be prompted by the mortification he himself experienced at the part that was imposed on him.

When we left Mr. Balcombe’s, the Emperor walked up and down the path in the garden. I mentioned to him what I had heard from the English officer. He seemed to expect it. I was not deceived in my conjecture; he ordered me to send away the horses. This vexed me exceedingly; and I said, perhaps rather sharply, that with his leave I would go and fulfil his orders immediately. On which he replied, with great gravity and in a very peculiar tone of voice:—“No, Sir, you are now out of temper. It rarely happens that any thing is done well under such circumstances; it is always best to let the night pass over after the offence of the day.”

We continued our walk till nearly midnight: the weather was delightful.

10th.—To-day, when our usual task was ended, the Emperor strolled out in a new direction. He proceeded towards the town, until he came within sight of the road and the shipping. As he was returning, he met Mrs. Balcombe, and a Mrs. Stuart, a very pretty woman about twenty years of age, who was returning from Bombay to England. The Emperor conversed with her respecting the manners and customs of India, and the inconveniencies of a sea-voyage, particularly for females. He also spoke of Scotland, which was Mrs. Stuart’s native country; said a great deal about Ossian, and complimented the lady on the climate of India not having spoiled her clear Scottish complexion.

At this moment some slaves, carrying heavy boxes, passed by us on the road; Mrs. Balcombe desired them, in rather an angry tone, to keep back; but the Emperor interfered, saying, “Respect the burden, Madam!” At these words, Mrs. Stuart, who had been attentively observing the Emperor’s features, said, in a low tone of voice, to her friend: “Heavens! what a countenance, and what a character! How different from what I had been led to expect!”

MIDNIGHT CONVERSATIONS BY MOONLIGHT.—THE TWO EMPRESSES.—MARIA LOUISA’S
MARRIAGE.—HER HOUSEHOLD.—THE DUCHESS DE MONTEBELLO.—MADAME DE
MONTESQUIOU.—THE INSTITUTE OF MEUDON.— SENTIMENTS OF THE HOUSE OF
AUSTRIA, WITH REGARD TO NAPOLEON.—ANECDOTES COLLECTED IN GERMANY,
SINCE MY RETURN TO EUROPE.

11th—13th. We led a most regular life at Briars. Every day, after dictating to me, the Emperor walked out between three and four o’clock. He descended to the garden, where he walked up and down, and dictated to one of the gentlemen who came from the town for that purpose, and who wrote in the little arbour. About half-past five o’clock, he passed Mr. Balcombe’s house, and went into the lower walk, to which he became every day more and more attached. At this time the family were at dinner, and he could enjoy his promenade without interruption. I joined the Emperor here, and he continued his walk until dinner was announced.

After dinner the Emperor again returned to the garden, where he sometimes had his coffee brought to him. My son then visited Mr. Balcombe’s family, and the Emperor and I walked up and down. We frequently remained in the garden until the night was far advanced and the moon rose to light us. In the mildness and serenity of the night we forgot the burning heat of the day. The Emperor never was more talkative, nor seemed more perfectly to forget his cares, than during these moonlight walks. In the familiarity of the conversations which I thus enjoyed with him, he took pleasure in relating anecdotes of his boyhood, in describing the sentiments and illusions which diffused a charm over the early years of his youth, and in detailing the circumstances of his private life, since he had played so distinguished a part on the great theatre of the world. I have elsewhere noted down what I conceived myself at liberty to repeat. Sometimes he seemed to think he had spoken too much at length, and had detailed things too minutely. He would then say to me: “Come, it is your turn now: let me have a little of your history; but you are not a tale-teller.” Indeed I took especial care to be silent; I was too much afraid of losing a syllable of what so deeply interested me.

In one of our nightly walks, the Emperor told me that he had, in the course of his life, been attached to two women of very different characters. The one was the votary of art and the graces; the other was all innocence and simple nature; and each, he observed, had a very high degree of merit.

The first, in no moment of her life ever assumed a position or attitude that was not pleasing or captivating; it would have been impossible ever to discover in her, or to experience from her, any thing unpleasant. She employed every resource of art to heighten natural attractions; but with such ingenuity as to render every trace of it imperceptible. The other, on the contrary, never even suspected that any thing was to be gained by innocent artifice. The one was always beside the truth, her first answer was always in the negative; the other was altogether frank and open, and was a stranger to subterfuge. The first never asked her husband for any thing, but she was in debt to every one: the second freely asked whenever she wanted, which, however, very seldom happened; and she never thought of receiving any thing without immediately paying for it. Both were amiable and gentle in disposition, and strongly attached to their husband. But it must already have been guessed who they are; and those who have ever seen them will not fail to recognise the two Empresses.

The Emperor declared that he had uniformly experienced from both the greatest equality of temper and most implicit obedience.

The marriage of Maria-Louisa was consummated at Fontainebleau, immediately after her arrival. The Emperor, setting aside all the etiquette that had previously been arranged, went to meet her, and, in disguise, got into her carriage. She was agreeably surprised when she discovered him. She had always been given to understand that Berthier, who had married her by proxy at Vienna, in person and age exactly resembled the Emperor: she, however, signified that she observed a very pleasing difference between them.

The Emperor wished to spare her all the details of domestic etiquette, customary on such occasions: she had, however, received careful instructions on the subject at Vienna. The Emperor inquired what directions she had received from her illustrious relatives with regard to him personally. To be entirely devoted to him, and to obey him in all things, was the reply. This declaration, and not the decisions of certain cardinals and bishops, as was reported, proved the solution of all the Emperor’s scruples of conscience. Besides, Henry IV. acted in the same way on a similar occasion.