Chapter V: Part 5

Meanwhile the servants were assembled, and M. de Montholon and I withdrew, that we might not sanction such a measure by our presence. The Governor spoke to the domestics, and afterwards joined us, saying:—"I am now satisfied. I can inform the English Government that they all signed it freely and voluntarily."

But his ill-humour was not yet fully spent; for he began most inopportunely to extol the beautiful situation of Longwood, observing that, after all, we were not so very badly off. And when we remarked that we felt most severely the want of shade in this burning climate, and that there was scarcely a single tree on the Island. “Oh! we will plant some!” said he. Could any thing have been more cutting?... This may be recorded as the first trait of brutality on the part of the Governor. After this he took his leave.

About five o’clock the Emperor got into the carriage to take an airing. As we were going out, he said, “Gentlemen, but for one man I should have been master of the world! And who do you think this one man was?” We were all eagerness to know.... “The Abbé de Pradt,” continued the Emperor, “the Almoner of the God of War.” On hearing this we could not repress our laughter. “I am serious,” continued he, “the Abbé thus expresses himself in his Embassy to Warsaw; you may read it yourselves. The work is altogether a wicked attack on me, an absolute libel, overwhelming me with insults and calumnies. Whether I happened to be in a particularly good-humour at the time, or whether it was because only truth offends, I know not; but, at all events, I laughed heartily when I read the work, and it afforded me abundant entertainment.”

Misunderstandings occasionally occurred between two individuals of the Emperor’s suite. This circumstance would not have been mentioned here, but that it serves to introduce some characteristic traits of the mind and heart of him to whom we are devoted. The newspapers of the time, and the return of one of the parties to Europe, in consequence of these misunderstandings, however, have already given publicity to the affair.

When I entered the drawing-room, to wait until the announcement of dinner, I found the Emperor speaking with the utmost warmth on this subject, which vexed him exceedingly. His language was energetic and moving.

“You followed me,” said he, “with the view of cheering my captivity! Be brothers, then! otherwise you but annoy me. If you wish to render me happy, be brothers, or you are but a torment to me! You talk of fighting, and that before my face. I am no longer then the object of your attention. You forget that the observation of foreigners is fixed on you.... I wish you all to be animated by my spirit.... I wish that every one around me should be happy, and share the few enjoyments that yet remain to us. Even down to little Emmanuel there, I would wish you all to have your due share....”

The announcement of dinner put an end to the reprimand. The Emperor was silent during the repast; at the dessert he ordered Voltaire to be brought to him, and began to read some of his dramas; but he soon laid aside the books. We daily became more and more tired of Voltaire.

The Emperor retired very early, and soon after desired me to attend him in his bed-chamber, where I remained with him until a late hour.

THE ABBÉ DE PRADT, AND HIS EMBASSY TO WARSAW.
THE RUSSIAN WAR.—ITS ORIGIN.

28th.—The Emperor again recurred to the Abbé de Pradt and his work, which he reduced to merely the first and last pages. “In the first,” said he, "he states himself to be the only man who arrested Napoleon’s career; in the last, he shows that the Emperor, in his way back from Moscow, dismissed him from the embassy, which is true; and this fact his self-love would fain misrepresent or revenge. This is the whole work....

“But the Abbé,” continued the Emperor, “did not fulfil at Warsaw any of the objects which had been intended; on the contrary, he did a great deal of mischief. Reports against him poured in upon me from every quarter. Even the young men, the clerks attached to the embassy, were surprised at his conduct, and went so far as to accuse him of maintaining an understanding with the enemy; which, however, I by no means believed. But he certainly had a long conversation with me, which he misrepresents, as might be expected; and it was at the very moment when he was delivering a long prosing speech, which appeared to me a mere string of absurdity and impertinence, that I scrawled on the corner of the chimney-piece the order to withdraw him from his embassy, and to send him as soon as possible to France; a circumstance which was the cause of a good deal of merriment at the time, and which the Abbé seems very desirous of concealing.”

I cannot refrain from transcribing from the Embassy to Warsaw, M. de Pradt’s account of the Emperor Napoleon’s court at Dresden. His remarks on this subject are striking, and afford a faithful picture both of men and things at that period.

“You,” he says, "who wish to form a just idea of the omnipotence exercised in Europe by the Emperor Napoleon, who wish to fathom the depths of terror into which almost every European sovereign has fallen, transport yourselves in imagination to Dresden, and there contemplate that superb Prince, at the period of his highest glory, so nearly bordering on his fall!

"The Emperor occupied the state apartments of the palace whither he had transferred a considerable portion of his household. Here he gave grand dinner parties; and, with the exception of the first Sunday, when the King of Saxony had a gala, Napoleon’s parties were always attended by the Sovereigns and different members of their families, according to the invitations issued by the Grand Marshal of the Palace. Some private individuals were admitted on these occasions. I enjoyed that honour on the day of my appointment to the embassy of Warsaw.

"The Emperor’s levees were held here, as at the Tuileries, at nine o’clock. Then with what timid submission did a crowd of Princes, mingling with the courtiers, and often scarcely perceived among them, anxiously await the moment for presenting themselves before the new arbiter of their destinies!"

These passages, and some others of equal truth and beauty of diction, are lost amidst a heap of details full of misrepresentation and malice. “They are distorted facts and mutilated conversations,” said the Emperor: and, adverting to the accounts of the Empress of Austria, which were filled with adulation, and of the Emperor Alexander, whose amiable virtues and brilliant qualities are extolled by the author, to the detriment of Napoleon. “Surely,” exclaimed the Emperor, “this is not a French bishop, but one of the eastern magi—a worshipper of the rising sun.” I shall both now and henceforward suppress, from a feeling of justice, several other articles and many details. The following observations may however be noted down, in opposition to the Abbé de Pradt’s endeavours to prove that the French were the unjust aggressors in the contest with Russia.

The Emperor, speaking of the Russian war, said: "No events are trifling with regard to nations and sovereigns; for it is such that govern their destinies. For some time a misunderstanding had sprung up between France and Russia. France reproached Russia with the violation of the continental system, and Russia required an indemnification for the Duke of Oldenburg, and raised other pretensions. Russian troops were approaching the duchy of Warsaw, and a French army was forming in the north of Germany. Yet we were far from being determined on war, when, all on a sudden, a new Russian army commenced its march towards the Duchy; and, as an ultimatum, an insolent note was presented at Paris by the Russian Ambassador, who, in the event of its nonacceptance, threatened to quit Paris in eight days. I considered this as a declaration of war. It was long since I had been accustomed to this sort of tone. I was not in the habit of allowing myself to be anticipated. I could march to Russia at the head of the rest of Europe; the enterprise was popular; the cause was one which interested Europe. It was the last effort that remained to France. Her fate, and that of the new European system, depended on the struggle. Russia was the last resource of England. The peace of the whole world rested with Russia. The event could not be doubtful. I commenced my march; but when I reached the frontier I, to whom Russia had declared war by withdrawing her Ambassador, still considered it my duty to send mine (Lauriston) to the Emperor Alexander at Wilna: he was rejected, and the war commenced!

"Yet, who would credit it? Alexander and myself were in the situation of two bullies, who, without wishing to fight, were endeavouring to terrify each other. I would most willingly have maintained peace; I was surrounded and overwhelmed with unfavourable circumstances, and all that I have since learned convinces me that Alexander was still less eager for war than myself.

"M. de Romanzoff, who had maintained communications at Paris, and who some time afterwards, when the Russians experienced reverses, was very severely treated by Alexander for the course he had induced him to pursue, had assured the Russian Emperor, that the moment was come when Napoleon, in his embarrassments, would readily make some sacrifices to avoid war; that the favourable opportunity should not be allowed to escape; that it was only necessary to assume a bold attitude, and a tone of firmness; that indemnity would be obtained for the Duke of Oldenburg; that Dantzick might be gained, and that Russia would thus acquire immense weight in Europe.

"Such was the cause of the movement of the Russian troops, and of the insolent note of Prince Kourakin, who, doubtless, was not in the secret, and who had been foolish enough to execute his instructions in too literal a way. The same mistaken notions, and the same system also, occasioned the refusal to receive Lauriston at Wilna. This was an instance of the errors and misfortunes which attended my new diplomacy. It stood insulated, without affinity or contact, in the midst of the objects which it had to direct. Had my Minister for Foreign affairs been a member of the old aristocracy, and a man of superior ability, no doubt he would have observed the cloud that was gathering, and might have prevented our going to war.

“Talleyrand, perhaps, might have done this: but it was above the powers of the new school. I could not make the discovery myself; my dignity precluded personal explanations. I could form my judgment only from documents, and in vain did I turn them over and over, for I was sure at last to arrive at a point where they could make no reply to my enquiries.

"Scarcely had I opened the campaign, when the mask fell, and the real sentiments of the enemy were developed. In the course of two or three days Alexander, alarmed at our first successes, despatched a messenger to me, to say that if I would evacuate the invaded territory, and fall back as far as the Niemen, he would enter upon negotiations. But I in my turn took this for a stratagem. I was elated with success; I had taken the Russian army in the very fact, in the critical moment; I had cut off Bagration, and I had reason to hope that I should destroy him. I thought, however, that the enemy merely wanted to gain time for the purpose of rallying his forces. Had I been convinced of Alexander’s sincerity, I should doubtless have acceded to his proposition of falling back to the Niemen. In that case, he would not have passed the Dwina; Wilna would have been neutralized: and there Alexander and myself, accompanied by a few battalions of our guards, would have negotiated in person. How many arrangements should I not have proposed!... Alexander would have had only to take his choice, and we should have separated good friends.

"Yet, in spite of the events which succeeded, and which left my enemy triumphant, is it quite certain that the measures I have just hinted at would have been less advantageous than those which have since been pursued? Alexander marched to Paris, it is true, but he came accompanied by the forces of all Europe. He has gained Poland: but what will be the result of the shock given to the whole European system; of the agitation into which every nation has been thrown; of the increase of European influence over the rest of Russia through the accumulation of new acquisitions: the expeditions in which the Russian troops are engaged in remote quarters; and the influence of the incongruous mass of men and knowledge which have taken refuge in Russia from foreign parts?

“Will the Russian sovereigns be content to consolidate what they have acquired? If, on the contrary, they should be influenced by ambition, what extravagant enterprises may they not attempt! And yet they have lost Moscow, her wealth and resources, and those of many other cities! These are wounds which will bleed for half a century. But at Wilna we might have entered into arrangements for the advantage of all, subjects as well as sovereigns!”

On another occasion, the Emperor said, "I might have shared with Russia the possession of the Turkish empire. We had oftener than once contemplated the idea, but Constantinople was always the obstacle that opposed its execution. The Turkish capital was the grand stumbling-block between us. Russia wanted it, and I could not resign it. Constantinople is worth an empire of itself. It is the real keystone of power; for he who possesses it may rule the world.

“What then?” said the Emperor, resuming the former question, “what has Alexander gained, which he might not have secured to better advantage at Wilna?”—Some one present replied, “Sire, he has conquered, and he remains triumphant.”—"That may be the vulgar opinion," exclaimed the Emperor, "but no Sovereign should entertain such an idea. A monarch, if he himself governs, or his councillors, if they govern for him, must, in vast enterprises of this nature, attach less importance to the victory than to its results. And even though the case be limited to vulgar considerations, still I maintain that the wished-for object has not been attained. Even here the palm must be awarded to the vanquished party. Who will pretend that my victories in Germany were equalled by the successes of the Allies in France? Will any thinking man, will any historian pronounce such an opinion?

"The Allies advanced with all Europe in their train, against a force which might be almost counted as nothing. They had 600,000 men in the line, and nearly an equal number in reserve. If they had been beaten, they had nothing to fear, they could have fallen back. I, on the contrary, in Germany, 500 leagues from home, had hardly a force equal to my enemy’s. I was surrounded by sovereigns and people repressed only by fear, and who, on the first disaster, were ready to rise against me. But I triumphed amidst dangers constantly increasing; I was incessantly compelled to exercise an equal degree of address and energy. In all these enterprises I found it necessary to display a strange character, strange views and a strange confidence in my own plans, which were disapproved perhaps by every one around me.

"What deeds on the part of the Allies can be compared with these? If I had not conquered at Austerlitz, I should have had all Prussia on me. If I had not proved victorious at Jena, Austria and Spain would have assailed me in my rear. If I had not triumphed at Wagram, which by the by, was a less decisive victory, I had to fear that Russia would abandon me, that Prussia would rise against me; and meanwhile the English were already before Antwerp.

"Yet what was my conduct after the victory? At Austerlitz, I gave Alexander his liberty, though I might have made him my prisoner.[9] After Jena I left the House of Prussia in possession of a throne which I had conquered: after Wagram, I neglected to parcel out the Austrian monarchy.

Footnote 9:

Since my return to Europe, I have been assured that there exist two
notes, written in pencil by the Emperor Alexander, urgently soliciting
that he might be allowed to pass. If this be true, what a singular
vicissitude of fortune presents itself! The magnanimous Conqueror was
doomed to perish in captivity, far from Europe, and separated from his
family; and this too, in the name of the conquered party, to whose
prayers he had so generously listened.

“If all this be attributed merely to magnanimity, cold and calculating politicians will doubtless blame me. But, without rejecting that sentiment, to which I am not a stranger, I had higher aims in view. I wished to bring about the amalgamation of the great European interests, in the same manner as I had effected the union of parties in France. My ambition was one day to become the arbiter in the great cause of nations and kings; it was therefore necessary that I should secure to myself claims on their gratitude, and seek to render myself popular among them. This I could not do without losing something in the estimation of the people. I was aware of this. But I was powerful and fearless. I concerned myself but little about transient popular murmurs, being very sure that the result would infallibly bring the people over to my side.

“I committed a great fault after the battle of Wagram, in not reducing the power of Austria still more. She remained too strong for our safety, and to her we must attribute our ruin. The day after the battle, I should have made known, by proclamation, that I would treat with Austria only on condition of the preliminary separation of the three crowns of Austria, Hungary, and Bohemia. Will it be credited? A Prince of the House of Austria several times hinted to me the idea of transferring one of the two last-mentioned crowns to himself, or even raising him to the throne occupied by his own family, on pretence that it was only thus that Austria could be induced to act sincerely with me. He even proposed to give me, by way of hostage, ——— and moreover, every possible guarantee.”

The Emperor said, that he had even turned this idea over in his own mind. He had hesitated about it for some time previously to his marriage with Maria Louisa; but after that event, continued he, it became impracticable. He observed that on the subject of marriage his notions were too citizen-like:—"Austria," said he, “had become a portion of my own family; and yet my marriage ruined me. If I had not thought myself safe and protected by this alliance, I should have delayed for three years the resurrection of Poland; I should have waited until Spain was subdued and tranquil. I stepped upon an abyss, covered by flowers.”

THE EMPEROR INDISPOSED.—HIS FIRST DAY OF COMPLETE SECLUSION.—THE PERSIAN
AND TURKISH AMBASSADORS.—ANECDOTES.

29th.—About five o’clock the Grand Marshal visited me in my chamber. He had not been permitted to see the Emperor, who through indisposition had been confined to his own apartment all day, and refused to see any one. Towards evening I went out to take a stroll in those paths in which the Emperor usually walked about this time. I felt dull, being alone. We had dined without the Emperor.

About nine o’clock, just as I was regretting that the day had passed over without my seeing him, he sent for me. I expressed my concern for his indisposition. He replied that he was perfectly well, but that he had taken a fancy to remain alone; that he had been reading all day, and that the time had passed away swiftly and agreeably.

He however appeared low-spirited and languid. He took my Atlas, which happened to be lying beside him, and, opening it at the map of the world, he cast his eye on Persia. “I had some excellent plans, with regard to that country,” said he. “What a capital point of support would it have been for my lever, whether I wished to disturb Russia, or to invade India. I had set on foot relations with Persia, and I hoped to bring them to the point of intimacy, as well as those with Turkey. It might have been supposed that the animals would have understood their own interests sufficiently well to have acceded to my propositions; but both Persians and Turks evaded me at the decisive moment. English gold proved more powerful than my plans. Some treacherous ministers, for a few guineas, sacrificed the prosperity of their country: which is usually the case under seraglio monarchs or imbecile kings.”

The Emperor then, abandoning politics, began to relate some anecdotes of the seraglio, and adverted to the Persians of Montesquiou, and his letters, which he said were distinguished for wit, delicate observations, and above all, for bitter satire on the time. He afterwards spoke of the Turkish and Persian Ambassadors who were in Paris during his reign. He asked me what impression they produced in the French capital; whether they paid visits, and received company, &c.

I replied that, during their stay in Paris, they engrossed public attention, and formed a kind of raree-show at Court. The Persian in particular attracted curiosity. On his arrival, he willingly received visitors, and as he made presents of perfumes and even shawls, he was a great favourite with the ladies. But the great number of those who paid their court to him soon forced him to set bounds to his liberality, and, thenceforward, the rage being over, he was no longer thought of. I added, that at Court, when the Emperor was not present, we sometimes ventured, very inconsiderately to be sure, to play off tricks at the expense of the oriental Ambassadors. At a concert given one day by the Empress Josephine, Asker-Kan, with his long painted beard, was one of the company. He seemed to be heartily tired of the music, and fell asleep standing with his back against a wall, his feet thrust forward and resting against an arm chair which stood in the corner by the fire-place. Some one, by way of joke, drew the chair away softly, so that his Excellency had well nigh fallen down at full length on the floor, and being thus roused from his slumber, he roared out lustily. Asker-Kan could more readily enter into a joke than the Turkish Ambassador; but, on this occasion he was in a great passion, and as we could only understand each other by gestures, the scene was most ludicrous. In the evening, the Empress enquired the cause of the noise which she had heard during the concert; and when the circumstance was explained to her, she laughed a good deal and scolded us still more. “It was very wrong, certainly,” observed the Emperor; “but what business had he at the concert?”—"Sire," I replied, “both he and the Turkish Ambassador went thither with the view of paying court to you. They hoped that your Majesty would be apprized of the circumstance, though you were at that time five hundred leagues off.” I added that on other occasions they had both proved themselves accomplished courtiers, and that their wish to ingratiate themselves with the Emperor carried them to the most extravagant lengths. “We have often seen them,” said I, “at the close of the grand diplomatic audiences on Sunday, follow your Majesty to mass, and occupy the pews in the chapel along with Cardinals of the Holy Catholic Church.”—"What a monstrous spectacle!" exclaimed the Emperor. “What a subversion of their principles and habits!—What extraordinary things I brought about; and yet all this was neither ordered nor perceived.”

The conversation continuing on the two orientals, I mentioned that I had been informed the Arch-chancellor Cambacérès once gave them a grand dinner. Though both from the same quarter, and members of the same religion, yet they nevertheless evinced shades of character totally different. The Turk, who was a disciple of Omar, was the Jansenist, and the Persian, who was a sectary of Ali, was the Jesuit. It was said that, at Cambacérès’ dinner, they scrupulously watched each other with regard to the wine, just as two Catholic Bishops seated at the same table might be expected to keep a vigilant look out, lest either should be tempted to eat meat on a Friday.

The Turk was gloomy and ignorant, and was looked upon as little better than a brute; but the Persian possessed literary information, was very talkative, and had the reputation of being a clever man. It was observed that he made no use of a knife and fork, either in eating or helping himself to any dish at table; and he probably would not have hesitated to help his neighbours in the same unceremonious way. One of our customs particularly attracted his notice; this was our practice of eating bread with every dish. He said he could not conceive why we were obliged always to eat the same article with every thing.

I believe I have already remarked that nothing amuses the Emperor so much as accounts of the fashionable world in Paris, anecdotes of our drawing-rooms, &c.

The Emigrants and the Faubourg St. Germain were subjects on which he was always fond of conversing with me when we were alone, and he accounted for this by saying to me once, “I was well acquainted with every thing that had relation to myself, but I never knew any thing of those affairs.” He observed, that he had nevertheless a natural desire to learn every thing that was passing near him, and to hear the chit-chat of little towns, &c. “I heard a great deal on these subjects,” added he, “during the period of my power; but whenever any thing favourable was said, I put myself on my guard—I was fearful of insinuations; and if, on the contrary, any thing unfavourable was reported to me, I mistrusted the accusation, and had enough to do to guard against a feeling of contempt. Here, my dear Las Cases, none of these disadvantages exist; you and I already belong to the other world; we are conversing in the Elysian fields: you are without interested views, and I am without suspicion.” I therefore eagerly seized every opportunity that offered itself to entertain the Emperor in this way. He perceived this, and gave me credit for my intentions; for, at the conclusion of one of my stories, he pinched my ear, and said, in a tone of voice which delighted me: “I read a story in your Atlas of a Northern Monarch who was immured in a prison, and one of his soldiers solicited and obtained permission to be imprisoned with him, in order that he might cheer his spirits, either by inducing him to converse, or by relating amusing stories to him. My dear Las Cases, you are that soldier.”...

On the present occasion I described to the Emperor the hoax which had been played upon M. de Marbois, and which he had not heard of before. It was as follows: one day, as the story goes, Asker-Kan, who was indisposed, and tired of his Persian treatment, gave orders to send for M. Bourdois, one of the first physicians in Paris. The messenger made a mistake, and went to M. de Marbois, Ex-minister of the Treasury, and at that time President of the Court of Accounts.—"His Excellency the Persian Ambassador," said he, “is very ill, and wishes to see you.” M. de Marbois could not conceive what business the Persian Ambassador could possibly have with him: but Asker-Kan was the envoy of a great Prince, and there is nothing which vanity will not contrive to reconcile. He proceeded with great pomp to the Ambassador’s residence; and it must be allowed that there was nothing in his dress, physiognomy, or deportment, at all likely to undeceive the Persian, who, as soon as he saw him, thrust out his tongue, and stretching forth his arm, motioned him to feel his pulse. These extraordinary gestures astonished M. de Marbois, but he thought they might be some oriental fashion. He took the hand which was offered, and pressed it cordially, when four attendants entered with solemnity, and presented to the Ex-minister a vessel of a very unequivocal nature, for his better information on the state of the patient. At this spectacle, the grave M. de Marbois flew into a violent passion, and asked what was the meaning of this extraordinary behaviour. The mistake was explained; it was M. Bourdois who had been wanted, and the similarity in the sound of the two names had alone occasioned the error. Poor M. de Marbois was the laughing-stock of Paris, and for a long time he could not show his face any where without exciting merriment.

“The drawing-rooms of Paris are indeed tremendous with their jokes!” said the Emperor, “for it cannot be denied that they are for the most part pointed and witty. They always assail the enemy at the breach, and a total defeat is the usual consequence.”—"It is true," said I, “nothing was spared. Even religion was not held sacred, and your Majesty may well suppose that neither you nor the Empress escaped.”—"I dare say not," replied the Emperor, “but no matter; what was said of us?”—“It was reported. Sire, that one day your Majesty, being much dissatisfied at the perusal of a despatch from Vienna, said to the Empress, in a moment of ill-humour, Your father is a blockhead (_votre père est une ganache_). Maria Louisa, who was unacquainted with many French phrases, turned to the person nearest her, and, observing that the Emperor had called her Father a _ganache_, asked what the term meant. The courtier, embarrassed at this unexpected interrogatory, stammered out that the word signified a clever man, a man of judgment, and extraordinary talent. Some time afterwards, the Empress, with her newly learnt term fresh in her memory, was present at the Council of State, and the discussion, becoming somewhat warm, in order to put a stop to it, she called on M. Cambacérès, who was yawning by her side....—‘You must set us right on this important point,’ said she, ‘you shall be our oracle; for I consider you as the greatest _ganache_ in the Empire.’” At these words the Emperor held his sides with laughter. “What a pity,” said he, “that this anecdote is not true! Only imagine the scene. The offended dignity of Cambacérès, the merriment of the whole council, and the embarrassment of poor Maria Louisa, alarmed at the success of her unconscious joke.”

The conversation continued for a long time in this way, and I spent about two hours with the Emperor; I had exerted myself to talk as much as I possibly could to divert him, and I had succeeded. The Emperor felt his spirits revived, he even enjoyed a hearty laugh. When he dismissed me, he felt much better, and I was happy at the change.

SECOND DAY OF SECLUSION.—THE EMPEROR RECEIVES THE GOVERNOR IN HIS
CHAMBER.—CHARACTERISTIC CONVERSATION.

30th.—To-day I and my son were engaged to dine at Mr. Balcombe’s at the Briars. About half past three, I went to receive the Emperor’s commands: he was the same as yesterday, and did not intend to go out.

Just before I had reached Hut’s Gate, the residence of Madame Bertrand, I met the Governor on his way to Longwood. He asked me how the Emperor was. I told him that I felt uneasy about him, and that he had not seen any of us yesterday. I added that though he had told me this morning he was well, yet from his countenance I should have expected a different account.

About half past nine, we set out from the Briars on our return to Longwood; it was very dark. A heavy rain had come on, which was as sharp and cutting as hail. We had a most disagreeable, troublesome, and dangerous ride, being every moment on the point of being precipitated into some abyss or other, for we were obliged to gallop on at random without seeing where we were going. We arrived at Longwood drenched to the skin.

The Emperor had given orders that I should attend him on my return. He was well, but he had stayed at home as he had done yesterday. He said he had been waiting for me, and had many things to tell me.

On learning that the Governor had arrived, he admitted him into his chamber, though he was not dressed, and was unable to rise from his couch. He said he had discussed with him, in perfect composure, all the points which naturally presented themselves to his mind. He spoke of protesting against the treaty of the second of August, in which the Allied Sovereigns declared him an exile and a prisoner. He asked what right these Sovereigns had to dispose of him, without his consent, him who was their equal, and had sometimes been their master. He said, if he had thought proper to withdraw to Russia, Alexander, who styled himself his friend, and who never had any but political disputes with him, would if he had not upheld him as a king, at least have treated him as one. This the Governor could not deny. He said, had he thought proper to take refuge in Austria, the Emperor Francis could not, without disgracing himself, have denied him admission not only to his empire, but even to his house and his family, of which he, Napoleon, was a member. This the Governor also admitted.

“Lastly,” said the Emperor, “if, relying on my own individual interests, I had persisted in defending them in France by force of arms, there is no doubt that the Allies would have formally granted me immense advantages, perhaps even territory.” The Governor, who hesitated for some time on this point, at length agreed that there was no doubt the Emperor might with ease have obtained a Sovereignty. “I did not wish it,” continued the Emperor: “I determined on abandoning public affairs; indignant at beholding the leading men in France betraying their country, or at least committing the grossest errors with regard to her interests; indignant at finding that the mass of the representatives preferred disgrace to death, and stooped to traffic with that sacred independence, which, like honour, should be _a rocky and inaccessible island_. In this state of things what did I determine on? What resolution did I adopt? I sought an asylum in a country which was supposed to be governed by laws: among a people, of whom for twenty years I had been the bitterest enemy! But what did you do?... Your conduct will be recorded in history to your eternal disgrace. Yet there is an avenging Providence; sooner or later you will receive your punishment! It will not be long before your posterity, your laws, will expiate your crime!... Your ministers have sufficiently proved, by their instructions, that they wish to get rid of me! Why did not the Kings who proscribed me openly decree my death? One act would have been as legal as the other! A speedy termination to my sufferings would have shown more energy than the lingering death to which they have doomed me. The Calabrians have been more humane, more generous than the Allied Sovereigns or your Ministers. I will not die by my own hands. That would be an act of cowardice. To overcome misfortune is a proof of a noble and courageous mind! We mortals are bound to fulfil our destinies. But if it be intended to keep me here, I feel that you would be doing me a kindness in depriving me of life; for here I daily suffer the agonies of death! The limits of St. Helena are too narrow for me, who was every day accustomed to ride, ten, fifteen, or twenty leagues on horseback. The climate is not like ours: neither the sun nor the seasons are like what we have been accustomed to. Every thing here is hostile to happiness and comfort. The situation is disagreeable and unwholesome, and is destitute of water. This part of the island is totally barren and has been deserted by the inhabitants.”

The Governor stated that his instructions required that the Emperor should be restricted to certain limits in his rides, and that an officer should always accompany him. “If they had been thus enforced,” replied the Emperor, “I should never have left my chamber. If your instructions will not admit of greater latitude, you can henceforth do nothing for us. However, I neither ask nor wish for any thing. Convey these sentiments to the English Government.”

“This,” said the Governor, “is the consequence of transmitting instructions from so great a distance, and with regard to a person of whom those who draw up the instructions know so little.” He then endeavoured to shift the question by intimating that, on the arrival of the wooden house or palace, which was on its way to St. Helena, better plans might perhaps be adopted: that a vessel was expected, bringing furniture and stores of provisions, which it was supposed would be agreeable to the Emperor; that the English Government was exerting every effort to alleviate his situation, &c.

The Emperor replied that all their efforts amounted to little; that he had requested to be furnished with the Morning Chronicle and the Statesman, that he might read what related to himself under the least disagreeable forms: but his request had never been complied with. He had asked for books, which were his only consolation; but nine months had passed away, and he had not received any. He had desired to obtain intelligence of his wife and son; but this had been withheld from him.

“As to the provisions, the furniture, and the house, that are intended for me,” continued he, “you and I, Sir, are soldiers; we know how to value these things. You have been in my native city, perhaps in the very house occupied by my family. Though it was not the worst on the island—though I have no reason to be ashamed of my family circumstances, yet you know what they were. But though I have occupied a throne, and have disposed of crowns, I have not forgotten my first condition; my couch and my camp-bed, you see, are still sufficient for me.”

The Governor observed that the wooden palace and all its accompaniments were at least an attention. “For your own satisfaction, in the eyes of Europe,” replied the Emperor, “but to me they are matters of perfect indifference. It is not a house, nor furniture, that should have been sent to me: but an executioner and a coffin. The former are a mockery, the latter would be a favour. I say, again, the instructions of your ministers tend to this result, and I invoke it. The Admiral, who is not an ill-disposed man, appears to me now to have softened these instructions; I do not complain of his acts: his forms alone offended me.” Here the Governor asked whether he had unconsciously committed any faults. “No, Sir, we complain of nothing since your arrival. Yet one act has offended us, and that is your inspection of our domestics. It was insulting to M. de Montholon, by appearing to throw suspicion on his integrity; and it was petty, disagreeable, and insulting towards me, and perhaps degrading to the English General himself, who thus came to interfere between me and my valet de chambre.”

The Governor was seated in an arm-chair on one side of the Emperor, who had remained stretched on his couch. It was dark, the evening was drawing in, and it was not easy to distinguish objects. “Therefore,” observed the Emperor, “it was in vain that I endeavoured to watch the play of his features, and to observe the impression which my words made on him.”

In the course of the conversation the Emperor, who in the morning had been reading the Campaign of 1814, by Alphonse de Beauchamp, in which all the English bulletins bore the signature Lowe, asked the Governor if he was the individual who had signed them. Sir Hudson Lowe, with marked embarrassment, replied in the affirmative, and added that the bulletins represented his views and opinions. The Governor, who had several times proposed that the Emperor should be attended by his physician, who he said was a very skilful man, on taking his leave again proposed to send his Doctor to Longwood. But the Emperor saw his motives, and constantly resisted his offer.

Having related all these particulars to me, the Emperor remained silent for some minutes. Then resuming, apparently after some reflection, he said: "How mean and disagreeable is the expression of the Governor’s countenance! I never saw any thing like it in my life!... I should be unable to drink my coffee if this man were left for a moment alone beside me.... My dear Las Cases, they have sent me worse than a jailor!..."

THIRD DAY OF THE EMPEROR’S SECLUSION.—SUMMARY
OF HIS HISTORY.

May 1st.—The Emperor kept his room to-day as he had done yesterday. I felt ill from my ride from the Briars; I had a slight fever, accompanied by great lassitude. The Emperor sent for me about seven o’clock in the evening. I went to his chamber and found him reading Rollin, whom he accused, as usual, of being too indulgent an historian. He did not appear to have been indisposed, and even said he was very well; but this only rendered me the more uneasy at his seclusion and his calmness of manner. He put off dinner to a later hour than usual, and detained me with him. He called for a glass of Constantia some time before dinner; this he generally does when he feels the want of excitement.

After dinner, he looked over a few of the addresses, proclamations, or acts, in Goldsmith’s imperfect collection. The perusal of some of these documents seemed to interest him; then, laying down the book, he began to walk about, and said, "After all, let them abridge, suppress, and mutilate as much as they please, they will find it very difficult to throw me entirely into the shade. The historian of France cannot pass over the Empire, and if he has any honesty, he will not fail to render me my share of justice. His task will be easy; for the facts speak for themselves: they shine like the sun.

“I closed the gulf of anarchy and cleared the chaos. I purified the Revolution, dignified Nations and established Kings. I excited every kind of emulation, rewarded every kind of merit, and extended the limits of glory! This is at least something! And on what point can I be assailed on which an historian could not defend me? Can it be for my intentions? But even here I can find absolution. Can it be for my despotism? It may be demonstrated that the Dictatorship was absolutely necessary. Will it be said that I restrained liberty? It can be proved that licentiousness, anarchy, and the greatest irregularities, still haunted the threshold of freedom. Shall I be accused of having been too fond of war? It can be shown that I always received the first attack. Will it be said that I aimed at universal monarchy? It can be proved that this was merely the result of fortuitous circumstances, and that our enemies themselves led me step by step to this determination. Lastly, shall I be blamed for my ambition? This passion I must doubtless be allowed to have possessed, and that in no small degree; but, at the same time, my ambition was of the highest and noblest kind that ever, perhaps, existed—that of establishing and of consecrating the empire of reason, and the full exercise and complete enjoyment of all the human faculties! And here the historian will probably feel compelled to regret that such ambition should not have been fulfilled and gratified!” ... Then after a few moments of silent reflection: “This,” said the Emperor, “is my whole history in a few words.”

FOURTH DAY OF ABSOLUTE SECLUSION.—THE MONITEUR
FAVOURABLE TO THE EMPEROR.

2nd.—The Emperor still kept his room as on the preceding days. He sent for me about nine o’clock in the evening, after I had dined. He had seen no one during the day; I remained with him till eleven o’clock; he was in good spirits, and appeared to be well. I assured him that the days which we passed without seeing him seemed very tedious; and that we feared his health would suffer from close confinement and the want of fresh air. For my own part, this seclusion caused me great uneasiness and affliction. He went to bed half an hour before he dismissed me: he said his legs refused to support him. He felt fatigued with walking, though he had only taken a few turns with me in his chamber.

He spoke a great deal of the Legion of Honour, of Goldsmith’s Collection, and of the Moniteur. Respecting the latter, he said that it was certainly a very remarkable circumstance, and one of which few besides himself could boast, that he had made his way through the Revolution at so early an age, and with so much notoriety, without having to dread the Moniteur. “There is not a sentence in it,” said he, “which I could wish to obliterate. On the contrary, the Moniteur will infallibly serve me as a justification, whenever I may have occasion for it.”

FIFTH DAY’S SECLUSION.

3rd.—The Emperor still continued within doors, and saw no one; this was his fifth day of retirement. The different individuals of his establishment knew not how he occupied himself in his chamber. He sent for me, as it were, by stealth, and I went to him about six o’clock in the evening.

I again expressed to him the anxiety and pain we felt at seeing him thus secluded. He told me that he bore the confinement very well, but that he found the days long and the nights still longer. He had been unoccupied during the whole day: he said he had felt himself out of humour; and, indeed, he still continued silent and dull. He took the bath, and I attended him. He concluded the evening by conversing on subjects of great importance.

SIXTH DAY OF SECLUSION.

4th.—The Emperor still remained within doors. He had, however, expressed his intention to ride on horseback about four o’clock; but the rain prevented him from stirring out. He received the Grand Marshal in his chamber.

He sent for me about eight o’clock to dine with him. He said that the Governor had called on the Grand Marshal, and had remained with him above an hour. His conversation had been frequently disagreeable and sometimes even offensive. He had spoken on a variety of topics in a tone of ill-humour and disrespect, and in a very vague and indeterminate manner: reproaching us, particularly, as it appeared, with being very loud and unreasonable in our complaints. He maintained that we were very well provided for and ought to be content; that we seemed to be strangely mistaken with regard to what was due to our persons and our situations. He added, at least so he was understood, that he was desirous of being assured every day, by ocular testimony, of the existence and presence of the Emperor.

There is no doubt that this point was the real cause of his ill-humour and agitation. Several days had passed without his having been able to receive any report from his officer or spies, as the Emperor had not gone out, and no one had been admitted to his presence.

But what measures would he adopt? This consideration occupied us all in our turns. The Emperor would never submit, even at the peril of his life, to a regular visit, which might be capriciously renewed at any hour of the day or night. Would the Governor employ force and violence to dispute with the Emperor a last asylum of a few square feet and a few hours’ repose? His instructions must have been drawn up in anticipation of the case that had now occurred. No outrage, no want of respect, no barbarity, could surprise me.

As to the Governor’s remark that we entertained mistaken ideas with regard to ourselves and our situation, we are very conscious that, instead of being at the Tuileries, we are at St. Helena, and that, instead of being masters, we are captives: how then can we be mistaken?

ON CHINA AND RUSSIA.—RESEMBLANCE BETWEEN THE
TWO GREAT REVOLUTIONS IN FRANCE AND ENGLAND.

5th.—About ten o’clock in the morning, the Emperor went to ride for the first time. While he was mounting his horse, he was informed that the Resident of the East India Company in China had come to Longwood, and solicited the honour of being presented to him. He sent for him, and put some questions to him with great condescension. We then rode out to call on Madame Bertrand. The Emperor remained there above an hour; he was weak and altered in his appearance: his conversation was languid. We returned to Longwood. The Emperor wished to breakfast out of doors.

He sent for our host at Briars, the worthy Mr. Balcombe, and the Resident from China, who was still at Longwood. The whole time of breakfast was occupied in questions relating to China, its population, laws, customs, and trade.

The Resident stated that a circumstance occurred a few years back between the Russians and the Chinese, which might have been attended with important results, had not Russia been entirely absorbed by the affairs of Europe.

The Russian traveller, Krusenstern, in his voyage round the world, anchored at Canton with his two vessels. He was received provisionally, and was permitted, until the orders of the Court should arrive, to dispose of the furs with which his ships were laden, and to take on board a cargo of tea in their stead. The orders from the Chinese court were delayed for more than a month, and M. de Krusenstern had set sail two days before they arrived. They directed that the two vessels should quit the port immediately: that all trade with the Russians in that quarter was prohibited; that enough had been conceded to their Emperor by land in the North of the Empire; that it was monstrous in him to attempt to extend his intercourse in the South by sea; and that strong displeasure would he manifested towards those who had suggested to them that course. The order further decreed that, in the event of the ships having sailed before the arrival of the answer from Pekin, the English Factory should be charged to communicate it, through Europe, to the Emperor of Russia.

Napoleon felt very much fatigued with his short ride; he had not left his chamber for seven days before; this was the first time that he had re-appeared among us. We remarked an evident change in his countenance.

He sent for me about five o’clock; the Grand Marshal was with him. The Emperor was undressed; he had tried in vain to enjoy a little rest; he thought he was feverish; the sensation proceeded from extreme lassitude. The Emperor had a fire lighted, but would not have candles in his room. We passed the time in desultory conversation in the dark, till eight o’clock, when the Emperor sent us to dinner.

In the course of the day, the conversation had turned on the similarity of the two great revolutions of England and France. “There are many points, both of resemblance and difference, between these two great events,” said the Emperor; “they afford inexhaustible subjects for reflection.” He then made some very curious and remarkable observations. I shall here note down his remarks on this occasion, as well as at other intervals during the day.

"Both in France and England the storm gathered during the two feeble and indolent reigns of James I. and Louis XV., and burst over the heads of the unfortunate Charles I. and Louis XVI.

"Both these Sovereigns fell victims: both perished on the scaffold, and their families were proscribed and banished.

"Both monarchies became republics, and, during that period, both nations plunged into every excess which can degrade the human heart and understanding. They were disgraced by scenes of madness, blood, and outrage. Every tie of humanity was broken, and every principle overturned.

"Both in England and France, at this period, two men vigorously stemmed the torrent, and reigned with splendour. After these, the two hereditary families were restored; but both pursued an erroneous course. They committed faults; a fresh storm suddenly burst forth in both countries, and expelled the two restored dynasties, without their being able to offer the least resistance to the adversaries who overthrew them.