Chapter XIII: Part 13

“At all events,” concluded the Emperor, "that unfortunate war in Spain was a real affliction, and the first cause of the calamities of France. After my conferences at Erfurt with Alexander, England ought to have been compelled to make peace by the force of arms or of reason. She had lost the esteem of the continent; her attack upon Copenhagen had disgusted the public mind, while I distinguished myself at that moment by every contrary advantage, when that disastrous affair of Spain presented itself to effect a sudden change against me and reinstate England in the public estimation. She was enabled, from that moment, to continue the war; the trade with South America was thrown open to her; she formed an army for herself in the peninsula, and next became the victorious agent, the main point, of all the plots which were hatched on the continent. All this effected my ruin.

"I was then assailed with imputations, for which, however, I had given no cause. History will do me justice. I was charged in that affair with perfidy, with laying snares, and with bad faith, and yet I was completely innocent. Whatever may have been said to the contrary, never have I broken any engagement, or violated my promise, either with regard to Spain or any other power.

"The world will one day be convinced, that in the principal transactions relative to Spain I was completely a stranger to all the domestic intrigues of its Court: that I broke no promise made either to Charles IV. or to Ferdinand VII.: that I violated no engagement with the father or the son: that I made use of no falsehoods to entice them both to Bayonne, but that they both strove which should be the first there. When I saw them at my feet and was enabled to form a correct opinion of their total incapacity, I beheld with compassion the fate of a great people; I eagerly seized the singular opportunity, held out to me by fortune, for regenerating Spain, rescuing her from the yoke of England, and intimately uniting her with our system. It was, in my conception, laying the fundamental basis of the tranquillity, and security of Europe. But I was far from employing for that purpose, as it has been reported, any base and paltry stratagems. If I erred, it was, on the contrary, by daring openness and extraordinary energy. Bayonne was not the scene of premeditated ambush, but of a vast master-stroke of state policy. I could have preserved myself from these imputations by a little hypocrisy, or by giving up the Prince of the Peace to the fury of the people; but the idea appeared horrible to me, and struck me as if I was to receive the price of blood. Besides, it must also be acknowledged that Murat did me a great deal of mischief in the whole affair.

"Be that as it may, I disdained having recourse to crooked and common-place expedients—I found myself so powerful!—I dared to strike from a situation too exalted. I wished to act like Providence, which, of its own accord, applies remedies to the wretchedness of mankind, by means occasionally violent, but for which it is unaccountable to human judgment.

“I candidly confess, however, that I engaged very inconsiderately in the whole affair; its immorality must have shewn itself too openly, its injustice too glaringly, and the transactions taken altogether, present a disgusting aspect, more particularly since my failure; for the outrage is no longer seen but in its hideous nakedness, stripped of all loftiness of idea, and of the numerous benefits which it was my intention to confer. Posterity, however, would have extolled it had I succeeded, and perhaps with reason, on account of its vast and happy results. Such is our lot, and such our judgment in this world!... But I once more declare, that, in no instance was there any breach of faith, any perfidy or falsehood, and, what is more, there was no occasion for them.” Here the Emperor resumed, in its totality and in its origin, the history of the affair of Spain, repeating many things which have been already noticed.

“The Court and the reigning family,” said the Emperor, "were split into two parties. The one was that of the monarch, blindly governed by his favourite, the Prince of the Peace, who had constituted himself the real king; the other was that of the heir presumptive, headed by his preceptor, Escoiquiz, who aspired to the government. These two parties were equally desirous of my support, and made me the most flattering promises. I was, no doubt, determined to derive every possible advantage from their situation.

"The favourite, in order to continue in office, as well as to shelter himself from the vengeance of the son, in case of the father’s death, offered me, in the name of Charles IV. to effect, in concert, the conquest of Portugal, reserving as an asylum for himself, the sovereignty of the Algarves.

"On the other hand, the prince of the Asturias wrote to me privately, without his father’s knowledge, soliciting a wife of my choice, and imploring my protection.

"I concluded an agreement with the former, and returned no answer to the latter. My troops were already admitted into the Peninsula, when the son took advantage of a commotion to make his father abdicate and to reign in his place.

"It has been foolishly imputed to me, that I took part in all these intrigues, but so far was I from having any knowledge of them, that the last event, in particular, disconcerted all my projects with the father, in consequence of which my troops were already in the heart of Spain. The two parties were aware, from that moment, that I could and ought to be the arbiter between them. The dethroned monarch and the son had recourse to me, the one for the purpose of obtaining vengeance, and the other, for the purpose of being recognised. They both hastened to plead their cause before me, and they were urged on by their respective councillors, those very persons who absolutely governed them, and who saw no means of preserving their own lives but by throwing themselves into my arms.

"The Prince of the Peace, who had narrowly escaped being murdered, easily persuaded Charles IV. and his queen to undertake the journey, as they had themselves been in danger of falling victims to the fury of the multitude.

“On his part, the preceptor Escoiquiz, the real author of all the calamities of Spain, alarmed at seeing Charles IV. protest against his abdication, and in dread of the scaffold, unless his pupil triumphed, exerted every means to influence the young King. This Canon, who had besides a very high opinion of his own talents, did not despair of making an impression on my decisions by his arguments, and of inducing me to acknowledge Ferdinand, making me a tender, on his own account, of his services to govern, altogether under my control, as effectually as the Prince of the Peace could, in the name of Charles IV. And it must be owned,” said the Emperor, "that, had I listened to several of his reasons, and adopted some of his ideas, it had been much better for me.

"When I had them all assembled at Bayonne, I felt a confidence in my political system, to which I never before had the presumption to aspire. I had not made my combinations, but I took advantage of the moment. I here found the Gordian knot before me, and I cut it. I proposed to Charles IV. and the Queen, to resign the crown of Spain to me, and to live quietly in France. They agreed, I may say, almost with joy, to the proposal, so inveterately were they exasperated against their son, and so earnestly did they and their favourite wish to enjoy, for the future, tranquillity and safety. The Prince of the Asturias made no extraordinary resistance to the plan, but neither violence nor threats were employed against him; and if he was influenced by fear, which I am very willing to believe, that could only be his concern.

"There you have in very few words, the complete historical sketch of the affair of Spain; whatever may be said, or written on it must amount to that; and you see that there could be no occasion for me to have recourse to paltry tricks, to falsehoods, to breaches of faith, or violation of engagements. In order to establish my guilt, it would be necessary to shew my inclination to degrade myself gratuitously; but of that propensity I have never furnished an instance.

"For the rest, the instant my decision was known, the crowd of intriguers who swarm in every court, and even those among them who had been the most active in producing the misfortunes of their country, strove to curry favour with Joseph, as they had done with Charles IV. and Ferdinand VII. They watched, with extraordinary diligence, the progress of events, and changed sides at a later period, in proportion as difficulties encreased, and our disasters approached. They pursued the plan so successfully, that they are the persons, who, at this moment, govern Ferdinand. And, what is truly horrible, the better to secure their influence, they did not hesitate to impute whatever was odious and criminal in past calamities, to the mass of _simpletons_, whom they proscribed and banished;—of those men naturally well-disposed, and who, in principle, decidedly blamed Ferdinand’s journey. Of this latter class, several who opposed the journey afterwards took the oath of allegiance to Joseph, who seemed then to be identified with the happiness and tranquillity of their country, and continued faithful to him, until the grand catastrophe that drove him from the throne.

“It would be difficult to accumulate a greater mass of impudence and baseness than that exhibited by all those intriguers, the principal performers in that grand scene, which, by the way, extenuates the degradation to which similar acts of vileness have reduced France in the eyes of Europe. It is evident, that they do not belong to her exclusively. Intriguing, ambitious, rapacious men, are every where to be found, and are every where the same. Individuals alone are guilty; nations cannot incur the responsibility. Their only disadvantage arises from their being forced to witness these misdeeds. Unhappy the country which becomes the scene of them!”

At present, the affair of Spain is perfectly known, thanks to the writings of the principal actors, the canon Escoiquiz, the minister Cevallos, and others, but above all, to those of the worthy and respectable M. Llorente, who, under the anagrammatic signature of Nellerto, has published the Memoirs of that time, sanctioned by all the official documents. The opposite contradictions of the two first, their mutual disputes, the assertions and denials of their contemporaries, have reduced their writings to their real value, by stripping them of whatever was erroneous, false, or even fabricated. The result is, that in the opinion of every cool and impartial judge, they all concur, even involuntarily, in confirming the justificatory assertions advanced by Napoleon; not but that they display that difference which must inevitably arise from the diversity of party-interests; but solely because neither of them actually establishes the grounds of positive crimination, nor furnishes any official document by which it can be proved, while all those which exist attest and establish the contrary.

It may also be remarked in the history of those transactions, which must now be considered as genuine, that England herself was altogether a stranger to them, at least with respect to their origin, a fact which was far from Napoleon’s way of thinking, who charged the English at the time with being the first cause of all the intrigues, and who still persevered in the accusation at St. Helena: so accustomed was he to discover them at the bottom of every plot formed against him.

With respect to this affair of Spain, I have further to notice a letter from the Emperor, which throws more light upon the subject than volumes. It is admirable, and the events which followed stamp it as a masterpiece. It exhibits the rapidity, the eagle-eyed view, with which Napoleon formed his opinion of men and things.

Unfortunately, it also shews how much the execution of the inferiors, employed during the greater part of the time, destroyed the finest and most exalted conceptions; and in that point of view this letter remains a very precious document for history. Its date renders it prophetic.

“29th March, 1808.

“Monsieur le Grand Duc de Berg—I am afraid lest you should deceive me with respect to the situation of Spain, and lest you should also deceive yourself. Events have been singularly complicated by the transaction of the 20th of March. I find myself very much perplexed.

“_Do not believe that you are about to attack a disarmed nation, and that you can, by a mere parade of your troops, effect the subjugation of Spain._ The revolution of the 20th of March proves, that the Spaniards possess energy. You have to contend with a new people; it has all the courage, and will display all the enthusiasm shewn by men, who are not worn out by political passions.

“The aristocracy and the clergy are the masters of Spain. If their privileges and existence be threatened, they will bring into the field against us levies en masse, that may perpetuate the war. I am not without my partisans; but if I shew myself as a conqueror they will abandon me.

“The Prince of the Peace is detested, because he is accused of having betrayed Spain to France. This is the grievance which has assisted Ferdinand’s usurpation. The popular is the weakest party.

“The Prince of the Asturias does not possess a single quality requisite for the head of a nation. That will not prevent his being ranked as a hero, in order that he may be opposed to us. I will have no violence employed against the personages of this family. It can never answer any purpose to excite hatred and inflame animosity. Spain has a hundred thousand men under arms, more than are necessary to carry on an internal war with advantage. Scattered over several parts of the country, they may serve as rallying points for a total insurrection of the monarchy.

“I lay before you all the obstacles which must inevitably happen. There are others of which you must be aware. England will not allow the opportunity to escape her without multiplying our embarrassments. She daily sends packet-boats to the forces, which she maintains on the coasts of Portugal and in the Mediterranean; and she enlists in her service Sicilians and Portuguese.

“The Royal Family not having left Spain for the purpose of establishing itself in its American colonies, the state of the country can be changed only by a revolution. It is, perhaps, of all others in Europe, that which is the least prepared for one. Those who perceive the monstrous defects of that government, and the anarchy which has been substituted for the legitimate authority, are the fewest in number. Those defects and that anarchy are converted to their own advantage by the greatest number.

“I can, consistently with the interests of my empire, do a great deal of good to Spain. What are the best means to be adopted?

“Shall I go to Madrid? Shall I take upon myself the office of Grand Protector in deciding between the father and the son? It seems to me a matter of difficulty to support Charles IV. on the throne. His government and his favourite are so very unpopular, that they could not maintain themselves for three months.

“Ferdinand is the enemy of France, and to that consideration he has been indebted for the crown. His elevation to the throne would be favourable to the factions, which for five-and-twenty years have longed for the destruction of France. A family alliance would be but a feeble tie. _Queen Elizabeth and other French princesses_ perished miserably when they could be immolated with impunity to the atrocious spirit of vengeance. My opinion is, that nothing should be hurried on, and that our measures ought to be regulated by events as they occur. It will be necessary to strengthen the _corps d’armée_ which will be stationed on the frontiers of Portugal, and wait....

“I do not approve of your Imperial Highness’s conduct in so precipitately making yourself master of Madrid. The army ought to have been kept ten leagues from the capital. You had no assurance that the people and the magistracy were about to recognise Ferdinand, without a struggle. The Prince of the Peace must, of course, have partisans among those employed in the public service; there is also an habitual attachment to the old King, which might lead to unpleasant consequences. Your entrance into Madrid, by alarming the Spaniards, has powerfully assisted Ferdinand. I have ordered Savary to attend the new King, and observe what passes. He will concert matters with your Imperial Highness. I shall hereafter decide upon the measures necessary to be pursued. In the mean time, I think it proper to prescribe the following line of conduct to you:

“You will not pledge me to an interview, _in Spain_, with Ferdinand, unless you consider the state of things to be such that I ought to recognise him King of Spain. You will behave with attention and respect to the King, the Queen, and Prince Godoy. You will require for them, and pay them, the same honours as formerly. You will manage matters so as to prevent the Spaniards from entertaining any suspicions of the course I shall pursue. You will find no difficulty in this, as I know nothing about it myself.

“You will make the nobility and clergy understand that, if the interference of France be requisite in the affairs of Spain, their privileges and immunities shall be respected. You will assure them that the Emperor wishes for the improvement of the political institutions of Spain, in order to place her in a relative state to that of civilized Europe, and to deliver her from the administration of favouritism. You will tell the magistrates and the inhabitants of the towns and the enlightened classes, that the machine of the government needs reconstructing, that Spain wants a system of laws calculated for the protection of the people against the tyranny and usurpations of feudality, and of establishments which may revive industry, agriculture, and the arts. You will describe to them the state of tranquillity and ease enjoyed by France, notwithstanding the wars in which she has been constantly involved, and the splendour of religion, which owes its establishment to the Concordat I have signed with the Pope. You will explain to them the advantages which they may derive from political regeneration—order and peace at home, respect and influence abroad. Such should be the spirit of your conversation and your letters. Do not hazard any thing hastily. I can wait at Bayonne, I can cross the Pyrenees, and, strengthening myself towards Portugal, I can go and conduct the war in that quarter.

“I shall take care of your particular interests, do not think of them yourself. Portugal will be at my disposal. Let no powerful object engage you and influence your conduct; that would be injurious to me, and would be still more hurtful to yourself.

“You are too hasty in your instructions of the 14th; the march you order General Dupont to take is too rapid, on account of the event of the 19th of March. They must be altered; you will make new arrangements; you will receive instructions from my Minister for Foreign Affairs.

“I enjoin the maintenance of the strictest discipline; the slightest faults must not go unpunished. The inhabitants must be treated with the greatest attention. Above all, the churches and convents must be respected.

“The army must avoid all misunderstanding with the corps and detachments of the Spanish army; there must not be a single flash in the pan on either side.

“Let Solano march beyond Badajos, but watch his movements. Do you yourself trace out the marches of my army, that it may be always kept at a distance of several leagues from the Spanish corps. Should hostilities take place, all would be lost.

“The fate of Spain can alone be decided by political views and by negociation. I charge you to avoid all explanation with Solano, as well as with the other Spanish generals and governors. You will send me two expresses daily. In case of events of superior interest, you will despatch orderly officers. You will immediately send back the Chamberlain de T——, the bearer of this despatch, and give him a detailed report.

“I pray God, M. le Grand Duc de Berg, &c.

(Signed) "NAPOLEON.”

June 15th.—The weather was superb; we took an airing in our calash, and observed very near the shore a large vessel, which seemed to manœuvre in a singular manner. We took her from her appearance to be the Newcastle, which had been for some time expected to relieve the Northumberland; but she was only one of the Company’s ships.

During part of the day, the Emperor, after running over a great number of topics, came at length to mention several persons who, were they at liberty, he said, would join him at St. Helena, and he undertook to explain the motives by which they might be influenced. From this subject, he was led to touch upon the motives of those who were about him. “Bertrand,” said he, "is henceforth identified with my fate. It is an historical fact. Gourgaud was my first orderly officer, he is my own work, he is my child. Montholon is Semonville’s son, brother-in-law to Joubert, a child of the revolution and of camps. But you, my good friend," said he to the fourth, “you,” and after a moment’s thought, he resumed; “you, my good friend, let us know by what extraordinary chance you find yourself here?” The answer was, “Sire, by the influence of my happy stars, and for the honour of the emigrants.”

ARTICLES SENT FROM ENGLAND.—THE EMPEROR’s DETERMINATION TO PROHIBIT THE
USE OF COTTON IN FRANCE.—THE CONFERENCES OF TILSIT.—THE QUEEN OF
PRUSSIA.—THE KING.—THE EMPEROR ALEXANDER.—ANECDOTES, &C.

June 16th.—The weather was delightful; the Emperor entered my apartment about ten o’clock. I was employed in dressing myself, and also in dictating my Journal to my son. The Emperor cast his eye over it for a few instants, and said nothing; he left it to look at some drawings. They were topographical sketches, executed with the pen, of some of the battles in Italy, by my son, and we felt pleasure in reserving them as an agreeable surprise for the Emperor. We had, until then, been employed upon them in secret.

I followed the Emperor to the garden; he talked a great deal on the articles that had been just sent to us from England, and which chiefly consisted of furniture. He exposed the ill-grace and awkwardness of those who had been employed to deliver them to us. He observed that, in presenting even what would have been most agreeable to us, they found means to hurt our feelings. He was on that account determined not to make use of them, and he declined accepting two fowling-pieces, which were particularly intended for him. The Emperor breakfasted in the open air, and we were all invited to his table.

The conversation turning on fashions and dress, the Emperor said that, at one period, he had resolved to prohibit the use of cotton in France, for the more effectual encouragement of the lawn and cambric trade of our towns in Flanders. The Empress Josephine was shocked at the idea, which she decidedly opposed, and it was given up.

The Emperor was in a happy humour for conversation, and the weather was very mild and tolerably pleasant. He began walking in the kind of alley which runs perpendicularly in front of the house. The conversation turned on the celebrated epoch of Tilsit, and the following are the interesting particulars which I collected.

The Emperor remarked, that, had the Queen of Prussia arrived at the commencement of the negociations, she might have exercised considerable influence with respect to the result. Happily, she arrived when they were sufficiently advanced to enable the Emperor to decide upon their conclusion four-and-twenty hours afterwards. The King, it was thought, had prevented her early appearance, in consequence of a rising jealousy against a great personage, which was confidently stated, said the Emperor, “not to have been destitute of some slight ground.”

The moment of her arrival, the Emperor paid her a visit. “The Queen of Prussia,” said he, “had been very beautiful, but she was beginning to lose some of the charms of her youth.”

The Emperor declared, that the Queen received him like Mademoiselle Duchesnois in the character of Chimene, thrown back into a grand attitude, demanding, calling aloud for, _justice_. In short, it was altogether a theatrical scene: the representation was truly tragic. He was unable to speak for an instant, and thought the only way of extricating himself was that of bringing back the business to the tone of regular comedy, which he attempted by presenting her with a chair, and gently forcing her to be seated. She proceeded, nevertheless, in the most pathetic tone. “Prussia,” she exclaimed, “had been blinded with respect to her power;—she had dared to contend with a hero, to oppose herself to the destinies of France, to neglect his auspicious friendship; she was deservedly punished for it. The glory of the great Frederic, his memory, and his inheritance had puffed up the pride of Prussia, and had caused her ruin!” She solicited, supplicated, implored. Magdeburg, in particular, was the object of her efforts and wishes. The Emperor kept his ground as well as he could. Fortunately, the husband made his appearance. The Queen reproved, with an expressive look, the unseasonable interruption, and shewed some pettishness. In fact, the King attempted to take part in the conversation, spoiled the whole affair, “and I was,” said the Emperor, “set at liberty.”

The Emperor entertained the Queen at dinner. She played off, said he, all her wit against me; she had a great deal; all her manners, which were very fascinating; all her coquetry; she was not without charms. “But I was determined not to yield. I found it necessary, however, to keep a great command over myself, that I might continue exempt from all kind of engagement, and every expression, which might be taken in a doubtful sense, and the more so, because I was carefully watched, and particularly by Alexander.” Just before sitting down to dinner Napoleon took from a flower-stand a very beautiful rose, which he presented to the Queen. She at first expressed by the motion of her hand a kind of prepared refusal; but suddenly recollecting herself, she said; _Yes, but at least with Magdeburg_. The Emperor replied, “But ... I must observe to your Majesty, that it is I who present, and you, who are about to receive it.” The dinner and the remainder of the time passed over in that manner.

The Queen was seated at table between the two Emperors, who rivalled each other in gallantry. She was placed near Alexander’s best ear; with one he can scarcely hear at all. The evening came, and, the Queen having retired, the Emperor, who had shown the most engaging attentions to his guests, but, who had at the same time, been often driven to an extremity, resolved to come to a point. He sent for M. de Talleyrand, and Prince Kourakin, talked big to them, and letting fly, continued he, some hard words, observed, that, after all, a woman and a piece of gallantry ought not to alter a system conceived for the destiny of a great people, and that he insisted upon the immediate conclusion of the negociations, and the signing of the treaty; which took place according to his orders. “Thus,” said he, "the Queen of Prussia’s conversation advanced the treaty by a week or a fortnight."

The Queen was preparing to renew her attacks the next day, and was indignant when she heard that the treaty was signed. She wept a great deal, and determined to see the Emperor Napoleon no more. She would not accept a second invitation to dinner. Alexander was himself obliged to prevail upon her. She complained most bitterly, and maintained, that Napoleon had broken his word. But Alexander had been always present. He had even been a dangerous witness, ready to give evidence of the slightest action or word on the part of Napoleon in her favour. “He has made you no promise,” was his observation to her; “if you can prove the contrary, I here pledge myself, as between man and man, to make him keep his promise, and he will do so, I am convinced.”—"But he has given me to understand," said she, ... “No,” replied Alexander, “and you have nothing to reproach him with.” She came at length. Napoleon, who had no longer any occasion to be on his guard against her, redoubled his attentions. She played off, for a few moments, the airs of an offended coquette, and when the dinner was over, and she was about to retire, Napoleon presented his hand, and conducted her to the middle of the staircase, where he stopped. She squeezed his hand, and said with a kind of tenderness; “Is it possible, that after having had the honour of being so near to the hero of the century and of history, he will not leave me the power and satisfaction of being enabled to assure him, that he has attached me to him for life?”—"Madam," replied the Emperor in a serious tone, “I am to be pitied; it is the result of my unhappy stars.” He then took leave of her. When she reached her carriage, she threw herself into it in tears; sent for Duroc, whom she highly esteemed, renewed all her complaints to him, and said, pointing to the palace; “There is a place in which I have been cruelly deceived!”

“The Queen of Prussia,” said the Emperor, “was unquestionably gifted with many happy resources; she possessed a great deal of information and had many excellent capabilities. It was she who really reigned for more than fifteen years. She also, in spite of my dexterity and all my exertions, took the lead in conversation, and constantly maintained the ascendancy. She touched, perhaps, too often upon her favourite topic, but she did so, however, with great plausibility and without giving the slightest cause of uneasiness. It must be confessed that she had an important object in view, and that the time was short and precious.”

“One of the high contracting parties,” said the Emperor, “had frequently assured her, that she ought to have come in the beginning or not at all, and observed that, for his part, he had done every thing in his power to induce her to come at once. It was suspected,” continued the Emperor, “that he had a personal motive to gratify by her coming; but, on the other hand, the husband had a motive equally personal in opposing it.” Napoleon believed him to have been very kind and a sincere friend in the business.

“The king of Prussia,” said the Emperor, "had requested his audience of leave on that very day, but I postponed it for four-and-twenty hours, at the secret entreaty of Alexander. The king of Prussia never forgave me for putting off that audience; so clearly did it seem to him, that Royal Majesty was insulted by my refusal.

“Another heavy charge against me, and of which he has never been able to divest his feelings, was that of having violated, as he said, his territory of Anspach in our campaign of Austerlitz. In all our subsequent interviews, however important the subjects of our discussion, he laid them all aside for the purpose of proving that I had really violated his territory of Anspach. He was wrong; but in short, it was his conviction, and his resentment was that of an honest man. His wife, however, was vexed at it, and wished him to pursue a higher system of politics.”

Napoleon reproached himself with a real fault, in allowing the king of Prussia’s presence at Tilsit. His first determination was to prevent his coming. He would then have been less bound to shew any attention to his interests. He might have kept Silesia, he might have aggrandized Saxony with it, and have probably reserved for himself a different kind of destiny. He further remarked: “I learn, that the politicians of the present day find great fault with my treaty of Tilsit; they have discovered, that I had, by that means, placed Europe at the mercy of the Russians; but if I had succeeded at Moscow, and it is now known how very near I was, they would, no doubt, have admired us for having, on the contrary, by that treaty, placed the Russians at the mercy of Europe. I entertained great designs with respect to the Germans.... But I failed, and therefore I was wrong. This is according to every rule of justice....”

Almost every day, at Tilsit, the two Emperors and the King rode out on horseback together, but, said Napoleon, “the latter was always awkward and unlucky.” The Prussians were visibly mortified by it. Napoleon was constantly between the two sovereigns; but either the King fell behind, or jostled and incommoded Napoleon. He shewed the same awkwardness on their return: the two Emperors dismounted in an instant, and took each other by the hand to go up stairs together. But, as the honours were done by Napoleon, he could not enter without first seeing the King pass. It was sometimes necessary to wait for him a long time, and, as the weather was often rainy, it happened that the two Emperors got wet on the king’s account, to the great dissatisfaction of all the spectators.

“This awkwardness,” said the Emperor, “was the more glaring, as Alexander possesses all the graces, and is equal, in elegance of manners, to the most polished and amiable ornaments of our Parisian drawing-rooms. The latter was at times so tired of his companion, who seemed lost in his own vexations, or in something else, that we mutually agreed on breaking up our common meeting to get rid of him. We separated immediately after dinner, under the pretence of some particular business; but Alexander and I met shortly afterwards, to take tea with one another, and we then continued in conversation until midnight, and even beyond it.”

Alexander and Napoleon met again some time after at Erfurt, and exchanged the most striking testimonies of affection. Alexander expressed with earnestness the sentiments of tender friendship and real admiration which he entertained for Napoleon. They passed some days together in the enjoyment of the charms of perfect intimacy and of the most familiar communications of private life. “We were,” said the Emperor, “two young men of quality, who, in their common pleasures, had no secret from each other.”

Napoleon had sent for the most distinguished performers of the French Theatre. A celebrated actress, Mademoiselle B——, attracted the attention of his guest, who had a momentary fancy to get acquainted with her. He asked his companion whether any inconvenience was likely to be the result. “None,” answered the latter; “only,” added he, intentionally, “it is a certain and rapid mode of making yourself known to all Paris. After to-morrow, post-day, the most minute details will be dispatched, and in a short time, not a statuary at Paris but will be qualified to give a model of your person from head to foot.” The danger of such a kind of publicity appeased the monarch’s rising passion; “for,” observed Napoleon, “he was very circumspect with regard to that point, and he recollected no doubt the old adage, When the mask falls, the hero disappears.”

The Emperor assured us that, had it been his wish, Alexander would certainly have given him his sister in marriage; his politics would have dictated the match, even had his inclination been against it. He was petrified when he heard of the marriage with Austria, and exclaimed—"This consigns me to my native forests." If he seemed to shuffle at first, it was because some time was necessary to enable him to come to a decision. His sister was very young, and the consent of his mother was requisite. This was settled by Paul’s will, and the Empress-mother was one of Napoleon’s bitterest enemies. She believed all the absurdities, all the ridiculous stories, which had been circulated concerning him. “How,” she exclaimed, "can I give my daughter to a man who is unfit to be any woman’s husband? Shall another man take possession of my daughter’s bed, if it be necessary, that she should have children? She is not formed for such a fate."—"Mother," said Alexander, “can you be so credulous as to believe the calumnies of London and the insinuations of the saloons of Paris? If that be the only difficulty, if it be that alone which gives you pain, I answer for him, and many others have it in their power to answer for him with me.”

"If Alexander’s affection for me was sincere," said the Emperor, “it was alienated from me by the force of intrigue. Certain persons, M——, or others, at the instigation of T——, lost no seasonable opportunity of mentioning instances of my turning him into ridicule, and they assured him, that at Tilsit and Erfurt, he no sooner turned his back than I took the opportunity of laughing at his expense. Alexander is very susceptible, and they must have easily soured his mind. It is certain, that he made bitter complaints of it at Vienna during the congress, and yet nothing was more false; he pleased me, and I loved him.”

S——, one of Napoleon’s aides-de-camp, was sent immediately after the treaty of Tilsit to Alexander at Petersburg, and was loaded with favours. The efforts and liberality of Alexander were inexhaustible to render himself agreeable to his new ally.

This same aide-de-camp became afterwards minister of the police, and in 1814, soon after the restoration, he is said to have made a striking allusion to his mission in Russia. A person deeply in the confidence of the King, addressing him at the Tuileries, in a manner altogether careless and unreserved, said, “Now that all is over, you may speak out; pray, who was your agent at Hartwell?” (This was, as every one knows, the residence of Louis XVIII. in England.) S——, astonished at the want of delicacy evinced by M. de B——, answered with dignity:—"M. le Comte, the Emperor considered the asylum of kings as an inviolable sanctuary. It was a principle which he impressed upon his police and we adhered to it. We have since learnt, that the same conduct was not observed with respect to him. But you, Sir, should entertain less doubt upon the subject than any other person. When I arrived at Petersburg, you were there on the part of the king. The Emperor Alexander, in the first warmth of his reconciliation, acquainted me with every thing that concerned you, and asked me whether it was the wish of my government that you should be ordered to leave his dominions. I had received no instructions upon that head. I wrote for them to the Emperor. His answer was, by return of courier, that he was satisfied with the sincere friendship of Alexander; that he would never interfere in his private arrangements; that he entertained no personal hatred against the Bourbons; and that, if he believed it were possible for them to accept it, he would offer them an asylum in France, and any royal residence, which might be agreeable to them. If you were then ignorant of these instructions, you will, no doubt, find them among the papers of the foreign office."

ARRIVAL OF THE FOREIGN COMMISSIONERS.—FORCED ETIQUETTE OF
NAPOLEON.—ANECDOTES.—COUNCIL OF STATE; DETAILS RESPECTING THE
PLACE OF MEETING, CUSTOMS, &C.—NOTICE OF SOME SITTINGS;
DIGRESSION.—GASSENDI.—THE CROAT REGIMENT.—AMBASSADORS.—THE
NATIONAL GUARD.—THE UNIVERSITY, &C.

17th of June.—The Emperor went out early in the morning. He ordered his calash for the purpose of taking a ride before breakfast. When he was stepping into it, we were informed, that the Newcastle man of war and the Orontes frigate were tacking to enter the port. These two vessels had overshot the island in the night, and were obliged to work to windward. They sailed from England on the 23rd of April and brought the bill respecting the Emperor’s detention. The English legislature had sanctioned by law the determination of ministers on that subject. The Commissioners of Austria, France and Russia were on board these vessels.

In the course of the day, the Emperor, speaking of the forms and costumes which he had established, and of the etiquette which he had introduced, said, “I found it a very difficult thing to give myself up to my own inclinations. I started into public notice from the multitude. Necessity compelled me to observe a degree of state; to adopt a certain system of solemnity; in a word, to establish an etiquette. I should otherwise have been every day liable to be slapped upon the shoulder. In France, we are naturally inclined to a misplaced familiarity, and I had to guard myself particularly against those who had at once, without any preparatory study, become men of education. We become courtiers very easily; we are very obsequious in the outset, and addicted to flattery and adulation: but unless it be repressed, a certain familiarity soon takes place, which might with great facility be carried as far as influence. It is well known that our kings were not exempt from this inconvenience.” Here the Emperor alluded to a very characteristic anecdote of the time of Louis XIV.—that of the courtier, of the number of whose children that prince enquired at his levee. “Four, Sire,” was the reply. The king, having occasion to speak to him two or three times in public during the day, put precisely the same question to him, “Pray, Sir, how many children have you?” The answer was uniformly the same; “Four, Sire.” At length, as the King was at play in the evening, he repeated the usual question. “How many children have you?”—“Six, Sire.” “How the plague can that be?” said the king, “for if I recollect right, you told me you had but four.”—“Really, Sire, I was afraid of fatiguing you with the constant repetition of the same thing.”

"“Sire,” observed one of the company to the Emperor, "I can mention an anecdote of a neighbouring country, worthy of that which we have just heard, and which may enable us to compare the gratuitous insolence of an absolute monarch’s courtier with the open resentment of a man, who has nothing to fear from his constitutional sovereign.

"A person moving in the circles of high life in London, had to complain of a great personage, by whom he had been very ill-used, and pledged himself to his friends to have ostensible satisfaction. Having learnt that the great personage was to honour a very brilliant party with his presence, he attended himself at an early hour and placed himself near the lady of the house. The great personage had paid his respects to the lady, and, after the customary compliments, being about to join the rest of the company, he had scarcely turned round, before the offended person, leaning carelessly towards her, said, with a loud voice, “Who is your fat friend?” The lady reddened, touched him with her elbow, and whispered; "Hold your tongue, I beg, don’t you see it is the Prince?" The gentleman replied, in a higher tone than before;—"How, the Prince!—Well, upon my honour, he is grown as fat as a pig."

Every one is at liberty to decide upon the relative demerits of these two insolent characters. Both are, no doubt, very blameable, and if there be less coarseness in the conduct of our countryman, it must also be allowed, that his impertinence is altogether without an object and purely gratuitous.

During another part of the day, the Emperor conversed at great length on the sittings of the Council of State. I had pointed out some, and of others we had but a doubtful recollection; or they had altogether slipped our memory. “Well,” said he, “in a short time, scarcely a trace of them will be left behind.” Being unable to sleep that night, I thought of these words, and endeavoured to recollect, as minutely as I could, every thing I was acquainted with respecting the Council of State;—the seat of its meetings, its usages, forms, &c.; and I do not think I can better employ the leisure of our solitude at St. Helena, than by giving an account of them here. I shall occasionally add what I may recollect of the sittings at which I was present. There are persons to whom these details will not be destitute of interest.

The hall of the Council of State, in the Tuileries, the place where the sittings were usually held, was on the same side with, and of the entire length of, the chapel. In the partition wall were several large doors, which being thrown open on Sundays, formed passages to the chapel. It was a fine oblong apartment. At one of its extremities, towards the interior of the palace, was a large and beautiful door, by which the Emperor entered, when, attended by his Court, he proceeded on Sunday to hear mass. It was only opened the rest of the week for the Emperor, when he went to his Council of State. The members of the Council entered only by two small doors, contrived for that purpose in the opposite extremity.

A row of tables, which occupied the whole length of the hall, on the right and left, was arranged there only when the council assembled, and the space left was sufficient to admit of seats within near the wall, and of a free passage without. There sat the Councillors of State, in their respective order of precedence; their places were, besides, designated by portfolios, bearing their names, and containing their papers. At the extremity of the hall, towards the grand entrance, and across the two rows, were placed similar tables for the Masters of Requests. The Auditors were seated on stools or chairs, behind the Councillors of State.

At the upper extremity of the hall, opposite to the grand entrance, was the Emperor’s place on an elevation of one or two steps. There was his arm chair, and a small table covered with a piece of rich tapestry, and furnished with all the necessary articles, with paper, pens, ink, penknives, and which were also laid before the Members of the Council.

At the right of the Emperor, but below, and on a level with us, was the Prince Arch-chancellor, with a separate small table; on his left, the Prince Arch-treasurer, who attended very seldom; and finally, at the left of the latter, M. Locre, who drew up the official account of the proceedings.

When any princes of the family happened to be present, a similar table was placed for them on the same line, and according to their respective rank. If any of the ministers were present, and they were all at liberty to attend whenever they pleased, they took their places at the side tables, at the head of the councillors of state. The enclosed space was vacant, and none ever passed through it, but the Emperor, or the Members of the Council, when proceeding to take the oath of allegiance to him.

The ushers moved silently about the hall, for the service of the members, even during the deliberations of the Council. The members left their places whenever they pleased, to obtain from their colleagues any particular documents of which they might be in want, or for any other purpose.

The upper compartments of the hall displayed allegorical paintings, relative to the functions of the Council of State, such as Justice, Commerce, Industry, &c. and the ceiling was decorated with the beautiful picture of the battle of Austerlitz, by Gros. Thus, under one of the most glorious laurels with which he ennobled France, did Napoleon preside over its internal administration.

It was in that place that for nearly eighteen months I enjoyed the inestimable advantage, the unparalleled satisfaction, of attending twice a week sittings so interesting by their special objects, and rendered still more so by the constant presence of the Emperor, who seemed to be the soul and life of the deliberations. It was there that I have seen him protract the discussions from eleven in the morning until nine at night, and display at the conclusion as much activity, copiousness, and freshness of mind and understanding as he did in the beginning, while we were ready to sink with weariness and fatigue.

While the court was at St. Cloud the council was held there, but when the sitting was to take place at too early an hour, or it was likely to last long, the Emperor adjourned the proceedings until the members could take some refreshment, which was served up in the adjacent apartment, on small tables most magnificently supplied, as if by enchantment. I may truly say, that it would be impossible to give a just idea of the fascinations we witnessed in every thing belonging to the Imperial palaces.

The hour of the Council’s sitting was regularly noticed in our letters of convocation, but the hour was generally eleven.

When a sufficient number of members was present, the Arch-Chancellor[note previously in text Arch-chancellor p2], who was always there the first, and who presided in the Emperor’s absence, opened the sitting, and called the attention of the Council to what was then called the _little order of the day_, and which solely embraced simple matters of a local nature and of mere form.

About an hour later, in general, the beating of the drum in the interior of the Palace announced the Emperor’s arrival. The grand entrance was thrown open; his Majesty was announced; all the Council rose, and the Emperor appeared, preceded by his Chamberlain and his Aide-de-Camp on duty, who presented his chair, received his hat, and continued behind him during the sitting, ready to receive and execute his orders.

The Arch-Chancellor then presented to the Emperor the _great order of the day_, which contained the series of objects under deliberation. The Emperor read them over, and pointed out in a distinct tone that which he wished to have discussed. The Councillor of State, nominated for the purpose, read his report, and the deliberations commenced.

Every member was at liberty to speak; if several rose at the same time, the order of precedence was regulated by the Emperor. The members spoke from their places sitting. No written speeches were allowed to be read; it was requisite that they should be made extemporaneously. When the Emperor thought the question, in which he usually took no inconsiderable share himself, sufficiently discussed, he made a summary of the arguments, which was always luminous, and frequently marked with novelty and point, came to a conclusion, and put it to the vote.

I have already noticed the freedom enjoyed in these debates. The animation of the speakers, increasing by degrees, became sometimes excessive, and the discussion was often protracted beyond measure, particularly when the Emperor, occupied probably with some other subject, seemed, either from distraction or something else, to be altogether ignorant of what was going on. He then commonly cast a vacant look over the hall, cut pencils with his penknife, pricked the cover of his table or the arm of his chair with the point of it, or employed his pencil or pen in scrawling whimsical marks or sketches, which, after he was gone, excited the covetous attention of the young members, who made a kind of scramble for them; and it was curious to observe, when he happened to have traced the name of some country or capital, the hyperbolical inferences that were sought to be extracted from it.

Sometimes too, when the Emperor entered the Council, as soon as his dinner was ended, and after having undergone great fatigue during the morning, he would fold his arms upon the table, lay down his head and fall asleep. The Arch-Chancellor proceeded with the deliberations, which were continued without interruption, and the Emperor, on awaking, immediately caught up the thread of the discussion, though the previous subject might have been ended and another introduced. The Emperor often asked for a glass of water and sugar; and a table in the adjoining room was always laid out with refreshments for his use, without any precautions being adopted as to the individuals who were permitted to approach it.