Chapter VIII: Part 8

“At the commencement of the year 1813, two merchants, who had discovered that I was the author of Le Sage’s Historical Atlas, called on me, and offered, if I would supply them with two millions’ worth of copies, to pay me immediately at the rate of 20 per cent. in ready money, and to convey the books gratis to London, where they should still be my property and should remain at my disposal. I stared at this—I could not conceive what was meant, and suspected that the merchants were hoaxing me. They, on the other hand, sought to explain themselves, by saying that the offer was made for the sake of procuring licences, an affair with which they found I was totally unacquainted. On repeating this conversation to a friend, I afterwards learned that the vessels which were licensed to sail to England, to bring home colonial goods, could not leave France without exporting goods equal in nominal value to their intended importation. Books were included among the allowable objects of exportation, and the merchants sought to obtain a light freight and a high price, which, at little expense, would entitle them to a considerable importation. My Atlas was admirably calculated for this kind of speculation. However, before I entered into any agreement, I consulted the Director General of Customs, and the President of the Committee of Exportation, by whom I was informed that the thing was perfectly legal. With this assurance I immediately set to work. I entered upon one of the most curious speculations that can possibly be conceived. Only a brief interval was allowed me for making the necessary preparations. One hundred forms in folio were distributed among thirty of the principal printing offices in Paris; and from that moment the presses were kept at work without intermission. All the vellum paper of a certain size was bought up, and it daily increased in price until it reached upwards of 100 per cent. Such a general bustle prevailed among all the printers in Paris as to alarm the police, until the affair was fully investigated and explained. I afforded employment either directly or indirectly to between 300 and 400 hands. At the expiration of one-and-twenty days I was to be ready with the two millions worth of copies of the Atlas, and was to receive 400,000 francs in ready money. I was perhaps the only individual in the world who could have engaged in such a speculation; for by a singular chance, I had kept all my forms ready composed by purchasing the types at a vast expense. I was now reaping the fruits of ten years’ industry and expenditure. This was truly a prize in the lottery. I was mad with joy at my unexpected good fortune. But alas! I was building on a sandy foundation, and I was doomed to pay dearly for the few happy moments of my illusion.

“The cynical M. de P——, the Director General of the bookselling trade, who was my colleague in the Council of State, seemed bent on my ruin, though I was unable to divine the cause of his animosity. While he was giving me every assurance of his readiness to serve me, he was, in an underhand way straining every nerve to injure me; and was exciting against me all the most active booksellers, whom he had induced to become the agents of his operations. Of these facts I can entertain no doubt; for the letters secretly written on this subject by P.... were confidentially communicated to me; but motives of delicacy forbid my taking the satisfaction of reproaching him with his baseness.

“He first of all intimated to me that the sheets of my Atlas could not be carried out of France, because the law permitted the exportation of books only. I then enquired whether books in sheets were suffered to be exported; and, on receiving an answer in the affirmative, I observed that my sheets must be considered merely as unbound books. M. de P.... then declared that the favour granted by the Emperor could be extended only to booksellers and not to authors; but M. de Montalivet, the Minister of the Interior, objected to this partiality and silenced M. de P..... The latter then asserted that the price of my sheets had been considerably encreased; but it was proved by reference to two hundred advertisements inserted in the Journals during the last ten years, that the price had never varied. He next alluded to the intrinsic value of the work, and affirmed that what I sold for 100 sous did not cost me more than five or six, and started many other difficulties of an equally absurd kind. Meanwhile time was flying; the ships were taking in their freights, the advantages offered by the owners were diminishing, the arbitrary valuations of the committees arrived, and I, who had persevered in my operations in spite of every difficulty, now found myself involved in a thousand anxieties and vexations, and thought myself happy in escaping absolute ruin, and being able to recover my expenses, which exceeded 80,000 francs.”

“But,” said the Emperor, “this seems almost incredible; I can scarcely conceive how all this happened. Your speculation was exactly suited to my taste; it would have advanced you in my good opinion; I should have been delighted with your activity and the method of your details. Nothing afforded me greater pleasure than to enable those around me to make their fortunes by honest means. Why did you not appeal to me? Why did you not expose the conduct of P....? You should have seen how I would have treated him.”—"Sire," I replied, "such an idea never entered my mind, the moment was critical: your time was precious. How could I hope that your Majesty would listen to me, or that I could satisfactorily explain an affair so complicated and delicate? How could I convince you that I was the author of a work that bore the name of another? What would have been thought of one so near your Majesty’s person meddling with commercial licenses and bookselling speculations? I felt that I was so little known to your Majesty that I dreaded the thought of the affair reaching your ear. Thus, though I was actively engaged in this affair, yet I exerted every endeavour to prevent its gaining publicity, and I made up my mind to suffer the worst."

“You were very wrong,” said the Emperor. “You behaved rather awkwardly towards me and perhaps also towards P....; I cannot otherwise explain the unnatural malignity which he evinced towards you.”

THE GOVERNOR’S VISIT.—HIS CONVERSATION WITH THE
EMPEROR.

16th.—The breach between the Governor and ourselves had been decided ever since the occurrence of what I have already set down as his first ill-natured trick, his first insult, &c. Our reserve and mutual dislike encreased every day; in short, we were on very bad terms with each other.

He appeared at Longwood about three o’clock, accompanied by his military secretary, and desired to see the Emperor, as he wished to speak with him on business. The Emperor was rather unwell and was not yet dressed; however, he said he would see the Governor as soon as he had finished dressing. In the course of a few minutes, he entered the drawing-room, and I introduced Sir Hudson Lowe.

As I was waiting in the ante-chamber with the military secretary, I could hear, from the Emperor’s tone of voice, that he was irritated, and that the conversation was maintained with great warmth. The interview was very long, and very clamorous. On the Governor’s departure, I went to the garden, whither the Emperor had sent for me. He had not been well for the last two days, and this affair completely upset him.

“Well, Las Cases,” said he, on perceiving me, “we have had a violent scene. I have been thrown quite out of temper! They have now sent me worse than a gaoler! Sir Hudson Lowe is a downright executioner! I received him to-day with my stormy countenance, my head inclined, and my ears pricked up. We looked most furiously at each other. My anger must have been powerfully excited, for I felt a vibration in the calf of my left leg. This is always a sure sign with me; and I have not felt it for a long time before.”

The Governor had opened the conversation with an air of embarrassment, and in broken sentences. He said, some planks of wood had arrived.... The newspapers must have made Napoleon acquainted with this circumstance.... They were intended for the construction of a residence for him.... He should be glad to know what he thought of it ... &c. To this the Emperor replied only by a very significant look. Then adverting hastily to other subjects, he told the Governor with warmth, that he asked him for nothing, and that he would receive nothing at his hands; and that he merely desired to be left undisturbed. He added that, though he had much cause to complain of the Admiral, he had never had reason to think him totally destitute of feeling; that, though he found fault with him, he had nevertheless always received him in perfect confidence; but that, during the month that Sir Hudson Lowe had been on the island, he had experienced more causes of irritation than during the six preceding months.

The Governor having observed that he did not come to receive a lesson, the Emperor replied, "But that is no proof that you do not need one. You tell me, Sir, that your instructions are much more rigid than those that were given to the Admiral. Do they direct that I should suffer death by the sword or by poison? No act of atrocity would surprise me on the part of your ministers! If my death is determined on, execute your orders. I know not how you will administer the poison; but, as for putting me to death by the sword, you have already found the means of doing that. If you should attempt, as you have threatened, to violate the sanctuary of my abode, I give you fair warning that the brave 53rd shall enter only by trampling over my corse.

“On hearing of your arrival, I congratulated myself in the hope of meeting with a general who, having spent some portion of his life on the Continent, and having taken part in important public affairs, would know how to act in a becoming way to me; but I was grossly deceived.” The Governor here said that, as a soldier, his conduct had been conformable with the interests and forms of his country. On which the Emperor replied, “Your country, your government, and yourself, will be overwhelmed with disgrace for your conduct to me; and this disgrace will extend to your posterity. Was there ever an act of more refined cruelty than yours, Sir, when, a few days ago, you invited me to your table by the title of _General Bonaparte_, with the view of rendering me an object of ridicule or amusement to your guests? Would you have proportioned the extent of your respect to the title you were pleased to give me? I am not General Bonaparte to you. It is not for you or any one in the world to deprive me of dignities which are fairly my own. If Lady Loudon had been within my boundaries, I should undoubtedly have visited her, because I do not stand upon strict etiquette with a woman; but I should nevertheless have considered that I was conferring an honour upon her. I have been told, you propose that some of the officers of your staff should accompany me in my rides about the Island, instead of the officer established at Longwood. Sir, when soldiers have been christened by the fire of the battle-field, they have all one rank in my eyes. It is not the sight of any particular uniform that offends me here, but the obligation of seeing soldiers at all; since this must be regarded as a tacit concession of the point which I dispute. I am not a prisoner of war; and I cannot, therefore, submit to the regulations required in such a situation. I am placed in your power only by the most horrible breach of confidence.”

The Governor, on taking leave, requested to be allowed to present his Military Secretary to the Emperor; but the latter replied that that was very unnecessary, and that if the officer had any delicacy of feeling he could not wish it; for his own part he would rather decline it. He added that no social relationship could exist between gaolers and prisoners; and that the presentation was therefore perfectly useless. He then dismissed the Governor.

The Grand Marshal joined us; he came from his own house, where the Governor had alighted both before and after his visit to the Emperor. He gave a detailed account of both his calls.

He said that the Governor on his return had shown great ill-humour, and had complained very much of the Emperor’s temper. Not relying sufficiently on his own wit, he had recourse to that of the Abbé de Pradt, whose work had just then passed through our hands. He had said, “that Napoleon was not content with having created to himself an imaginary France, an imaginary Spain, and an imaginary Poland, but that he now wished to create _an imaginary St. Helena_.” On hearing this, the Emperor could not refrain from laughing.

We then drove out in the calash, and on our return the Emperor took a bath. He sent for me, and having intimated that he would not dine till nine o’clock, kept me with him. He talked over the affairs of the day, and dwelt on the abominable treatment he suffered, the atrocious malignity by which it was dictated, and the brutality with which it was executed. After a few moments of silence and reflection, he exclaimed, as he frequently does, “My dear Las Cases, they will kill me here! It is certain!” What a horrible prophecy!...

He dismissed me at half-past ten.

17th.—I was very ill the whole of the night; the Emperor breakfasted in the garden, and sent for me to attend him there. He was himself dull and melancholy, and was not at all well. After breakfast we walked for a long time in the garden; he uttered not a word. The heat obliged him to return in-doors about ten o’clock. He regretted excessively the want of shade.

About four o’clock he sent to know how I was. He had just returned from taking a drive in the calash, in which I had not been able to join him. I walked with him and the Grand Marshal until half past five. He still had a melancholy and abstracted air. He desired Bertrand to give us an account of his residence at Constantinople in 1796, his journey to Athens, and his return across Albania. A great deal was said relative to Selim III. and his improvements, the Baron de Tott, &c. The conversation was very interesting, but unfortunately I find in my manuscript only a few imperfect notes, which my memory cannot now assist me in filling up.

After dinner the Emperor, who had scarcely eaten any thing, attempted to read to us the meeting of the academy from Anacharsis. His voice and his whole frame had lost their wonted vigour and spirit. Contrary to his custom, he ended without analysis or observation. He retired to rest as soon as the chapter was concluded.

MADAME MARSHAL LEFEVRE.

18th.—The Emperor continued indisposed. On his return from a drive in the calash, he took a bath, and sent for me. He shewed a cheerfulness of manner; and we conversed till half-past eight o’clock. He ordered dinner in his own study; and he desired me to stay and dine with him. The place, the tête-a-tête, the elegance of the dinner service, and the neatness with which the table was laid out, gave me, I said, an idea of comfort; the Emperor smiled at my observation. He asked me many questions relative to London, my emigration, the French Princes, and the Bishop of Arras. He himself recurred to the principal events of his Consulship, and gave me some curious details and anecdotes on these subjects. We then began to talk about the old and new courts of France, &c. Many of the observations that were made would, if stated here, only be repetitions, for I believe I have mentioned them before. Other remarks that fell from the Emperor, and which are merely hinted at in my manuscript, must remain for ever lost.

I will transcribe only the following particulars as new. I was entertaining the Emperor with the anecdotes and ridiculous stories, that were related gratuitously, no doubt, of Madame Lefèvre, who long enjoyed the privilege of furnishing the drawing-rooms of Paris, and even the drawing-room of the Tuileries, with a subject for quizzing. “I joined in the ridicule,” said I, "like every body else, until one day I renounced it for ever, on hearing an anecdote which proved her nobleness of sentiment and goodness of heart.

"Madame Lefèvre, whose husband was once a private in the guards, and who consequently filled a humble station in life, seemed to take pleasure in reviving the recollection of circumstances connected with her former station, and even in alluding to the laborious occupations which she had been obliged to pursue. During their poverty, she and her husband had been engaged in a domestic capacity in the family of the Marquis de Valady, the Captain of the corps in which Lefèvre served. The Marquis, who stood godfather to Lefèvre’s child, played a conspicuous part in the desertion of the guards, nor was he less celebrated for his fanatical zeal in favour of republican liberty; he was nevertheless a man of generous sentiments. He was a member of the Convention, and he perished because he opposed the execution of Louis XVI., publicly declaring that he considered it as absolute murder, adding, that Louis had already been too unfortunate as a King to render the infliction of any additional punishment necessary.

"The wife of the Marquis on her return to France after her emigration, immediately received the kindest offers and attentions from the family of Lefèvre, who were then living in a style of considerable splendour.

"One day, Madame Lefèvre called upon her, and, in her usual strain of language, said, ‘How little kindness and goodness of heart there is among you people of quality. We, who have risen from the ranks, know our duty better. We have just heard that M——, one of our old officers, and your husband’s comrade, has returned from his emigration, and that he is dying for want! How shameful this is. We were fearful of offending him by offering him assistance; but the case is quite different with you. An act of service on your part will be gratifying to him. Pray give him this as coming from yourself.’ With these words, she presented to her friend a rouleau of 100 louis, or 1000 crowns. From that moment, Sire," said I, “I felt no inclination to join in the jokes against Madame Lefèvre; I no longer entertained towards her any other feeling than that of profound respect. I eagerly advanced to take her hand whenever I met her at the Tuileries, and I felt proud in escorting her through the drawing-room, in spite of the sneers that were buzzing around me.”

We then related a number of traits of generosity exercised by the new favourites of fortune towards the old ruined families. Among others, we adverted to an instance of courtesy, perhaps somewhat far-fetched, in a certain individual, who, being originally a private soldier, attained the rank of Marshal, or General-in-chief, I forget which. One day, during his newly acquired splendour, he assembled together at a family dinner his former colonel, and four or five officers of the regiment, whom he received in his original uniform of a private, and he addressed his guests in the same terms which he had been in the habit of employing before he attained his elevated rank.

“And this,” observed the Emperor, “was the only way to soften down the fury of the times; for such acts as these must necessarily have created mutual feelings of kindness between the opposite parties; and we may naturally suppose that, during recent events, the persons thus obliged will have returned the obligations they received, were it only for the sake of being _quits_.”

This word _quits_ reminds me of a characteristic trait of the Emperor, which must be noticed here.

A General had been guilty of irregularities in his department, which, had they been brought before the tribunals, must have cost him his honour, and perhaps his life. Now, this general had rendered the most important services to Napoleon on the day of Brumaire. The Emperor sent for, and reproached him with his misconduct. “However,” said he, “you have laid me under obligations, which I have not forgotten. I am perhaps about to transgress the laws, and to fail in my duty. I pardon you, Sir; begone; but know that from this day forward we are _quits_. Take care of yourself for the future, I shall look sharply after you.”

THE GOVERNOR OF JAVA.—DOCTOR WARDEN.—FAMILIAR CONVERSATION OF THE
EMPEROR RELATIVE TO HIS FAMILY.

19th.—Doctor Warden breakfasted with me to-day. The Governor of Java (Sir Stamford Raffles) and his staff, who had touched at St. Helena on their way to Europe, arrived at Longwood while we were at breakfast. Governor Raffles was well acquainted with all the Dutch gentlemen, whom I had seen in 1810, during my mission to Amsterdam. The Emperor told me that he would probably receive his visitors about three or four o’clock. In the mean time, I conversed for several hours with Doctor Warden, whom I furnished with some explanations on historical facts relating to the Emperor, about which I supposed he intended to write.[12]

Footnote 12:

I was sorry to find, on perusing the Doctor’s work, that he has
totally neglected the observations and corrections with which I
furnished him; and has strangely misrepresented the particulars which
I communicated.

About three o’clock the Emperor received in the garden the English gentlemen who had come from Java. He afterwards took a drive in the calash.

On his return, about six o’clock, he desired me to follow him to his study. He sent for the Grand Marshal and his Lady, and conversed familiarly, until dinner time, on various subjects relating to his family and his minutest domestic affairs during the period of his power. He dwelt particularly on the Empress Josephine. “They lived together,” he said, “like a private citizen and his wife. They were most affectionate and united, having for a long period occupied but one chamber and one bed. These are circumstances,” said the Emperor, “which exercise great influence over the happiness of a family, securing the reputation of the wife and the confidence of the husband, and preserving union and good conduct on both sides. A married couple,” continued he, “may be said never to lose sight of one another, when they pass the night together; otherwise they soon become estranged. Thus, as long as this practice was continued, none of my thoughts or actions escaped the notice of Josephine. She observed, seized, and comprehended every thing. This circumstance was sometimes not altogether without its inconvenience to myself and to public affairs: but, while we were at the camp of Boulogne, a moment of ill-humour put an end to this state of things.” Certain political events which had occurred at Vienna, together with the report of the coalition which took place in 1805, had occupied the attention of the First Consul throughout the whole of the day, and a great part of the night. He retired to bed not in very good spirits, and he found Josephine in a violent rage at his long absence. Jealousy was the real or pretended cause of this ill-humour. Napoleon grew angry in his turn, threw off the yoke of subjection, and could never be brought to submit to it again. At the time of his second marriage, the Emperor was fearful, he said, “lest Maria Louisa might exact similar obedience, for in that case he must have yielded. It is the true right and privilege of a wife,” he observed.

“A son by Josephine,” continued the Emperor, "would have completed my happiness, not only in a political point of view, but as a source of domestic felicity.

"As a political result, it would have secured to me the possession of the throne; the French people would have been as much attached to the son of Josephine as they were to the King of Rome; and I should not have set my foot on an abyss covered with flowers. But how vain are all human calculations! Who can pretend to decide what may lead to happiness or unhappiness in this life!

"Still I cannot help believing that such a pledge of our union would have proved a source of domestic felicity; it would have put an end to the jealousy of Josephine, by which I was continually harassed, and which after all was the offspring of policy rather than of sentiment. Josephine despaired of having a child, and she in consequence looked forward with dread to the future. She was well aware that no marriage is perfect without children; and at the period of her second nuptials there was no longer any probability of her becoming a mother. In proportion as her fortunes advanced, her alarm increased. She availed herself of every resource of medicine; and sometimes almost persuaded herself that her remedies had proved successful. When, at length, she was compelled to renounce all hope, she suggested to her husband the expediency of resorting to a great political deception; and she even went so far as directly to propose the adoption of such a measure.

"Josephine possessed in an eminent degree the taste for luxury, gaiety, and extravagance, natural to Creoles. It was impossible to regulate her expenditure; she was constantly in debt; and thus there was always a grand dispute when the day of payment arrived. She was frequently known to direct her tradesmen to send in only half their accounts. Even at the Island of Elba, Josephine’s bills came pouring in upon me from all parts of Italy."

Some one who knew the Empress Josephine at Martinique communicated to the Emperor many particulars relative to her family and her youthful days. During her childhood, it was several times predicted that she would wear a crown. Another circumstance not less curious and remarkable is that the phial, containing the holy oil used at the coronation of the Kings of France, is said to have been broken by Josephine’s first husband, General Beauharnais, who, at a moment when the tide of popular favour was running against him, hoped by this act to gain reputation.[13]

Footnote 13:

This story is positively contradicted. It appears that a fondness for
the marvellous produced this fable.

A thousand stories have been told and written respecting the marriage of Napoleon and Josephine. The campaigns of Italy explain the circumstance that first brought about their acquaintance and their union. After Vendemiaire, Eugène, who was yet a child, presented himself to General Bonaparte, then General-in-chief of the army of the Interior, to request that his father’s sword might be restored to him. Lemarrois, one of Napoleon’s aides-de-camp, introduced the boy, who, the moment he beheld the sword, burst into tears. The General-in-chief was moved by this incident, and loaded the boy with caresses. When Eugène described the manners of the young General to his mother, she lost no time in introducing herself to him. “It is well known,” said the Emperor, "that she put faith in presentiments and prophecies. In her childhood, some fortuneteller had predicted that she would attain splendid rank, and would even ascend a throne. She moreover possessed a considerable share of art; and, after we became acquainted, she frequently assured me that her heart beat when she first heard Eugène describe me, and that she then caught a glimpse of her future greatness and the accomplishment of the prophecies respecting her fate.

“Another peculiar shade in the character of Josephine,” said the Emperor, “was her constant habit of negation. At all times, and whatever question I put to her, her first movement was negative, her first answer _No_; and this _no_,” continued the Emperor, “was not precisely a falsehood, but merely a precaution, or a defence.”—"This," observed Madame Bertrand, “is a characteristic distinction between our sex and yours.”—"But, after all, Madam," resumed the Emperor, "this distinction arises only from the difference of education. You love, and you are taught to say _no_; we, on the contrary, take a pride in declaring that we love, whether we really do or not. This is the whole course of the opposite conduct of the two sexes. We are not, and never can be, similar.

EUGENE BEAUHARNAIS CLAIMING HIS FATHER’S SWORD.

London: Published for HENRY COLBURN, February, 1836.
]

“During the reign of terror,” said the Emperor, “Josephine was thrown into prison, while her husband perished on the scaffold. Her son Eugène was bound apprentice to a joiner, which trade he actually learned. Hortense had no better prospects. She was, if I mistake not, sent to learn the business of a sempstress.”[14]

Footnote 14:

I have been assured that this circumstance is erroneous, and that
relative to Prince Eugène inaccurate.

Fouché was the first who ventured to touch the fatal string of the Imperial divorce. He took upon himself, without any instructions, to advise Josephine to dissolve her marriage for the welfare of France. Napoleon, however, conceived that the proper moment had not yet arrived. The step taken by Fouché was a source of great vexation and trouble: it very much displeased the Emperor, and if, at the earnest solicitation of Josephine, he did not dismiss Fouché, it was because he had himself secretly determined on the divorce, and he did not wish, by thus punishing his minister, to give any check to public opinion on the subject.

However, it is but justice to observe that, as soon as the Emperor shewed himself resolved on the divorce, Josephine consented to it. It cost her, it is true, a severe sacrifice: but she submitted without murmuring, and without attempting to avail herself of those obstacles which she might, however uselessly, have opposed to the measure.[15] She conducted herself with the utmost grace and address. She desired that the Viceroy might be put at the head of this affair, and she herself made offers of service to the house of Austria.

Footnote 15:

I received from the mouth of the Prince Primate some curious details
concerning Josephine’s marriage and divorce. Madame de Beauharnais was
married to General Buonaparte, by a non-juring priest, who, by mere
accident, had neglected to procure the requisite authority from the
curate of the parish. This, or some other informality in the marriage,
afterwards occupied the attention of Cardinal Fesch; and, whether from
his own scruples or otherwise, he succeeded at the time of the
coronation in persuading the Emperor and Empress to be married over
again by him, privately; or at least to go over as much of the
ceremony as he thought necessary. At the divorce, the civil separation
was pronounced by the Senate. With regard to the religious separation,
the Emperor would not apply to the Pope, and there was no necessity
for so doing. Cardinal Fesch having re-married the parties without
witnesses, the Officiality of Paris declared that no marriage had
taken place. On this judgment being delivered, the Empress Josephine
summoned Cardinal Fesch to Malmaison, and asked him whether he could
bear witness and sign a declaration that she had been married and
lawfully married. “Doubtless,” replied the Cardinal, “I can bear
testimony to the fact, and will sign the declaration,” which he
accordingly did.

“But,” said I to the Prince Primate, “what judgment was pronounced by
the Officiality of Paris?”—"The only proper one," replied the
Prince.—"What then became of the declaration of Cardinal Fesch? was it
false?"—"Not in his opinion," said the Prince. “He had acted upon the
Italian doctrine, by which Cardinals assume the right of marrying
without witnesses, which however is not recognised in France, where a
marriage is thereby rendered null.”

It appears, however, that Josephine required this declaration only for
her own satisfaction, and that she never made any other use of it.

Josephine would willingly have seen Maria Louisa. She frequently spoke of her with great interest, as well as of the young King of Rome. Maria Louisa, on her part, behaved wonderfully well to Eugène and Hortense; but she manifested the utmost dislike and even jealousy of Josephine. “I wished one day to take her to Malmaison,” said the Emperor; “but she burst into tears when I made the proposal. She said she did not object to my visiting Josephine, only she did not wish to know it. But whenever she suspected my intention of going to Malmaison, there was no stratagem which she did not employ for the sake of annoying me. She never left me; and, as these visits seemed to vex her exceedingly, I did violence to my own feelings and scarcely ever went to Malmaison. Still, however, when I did happen to go, I was sure to encounter a flood of tears and a multitude of contrivances of every kind. Josephine always kept in view the example of the wife of Henry IV., who, as she observed, lived in Paris, visited the Court, and attended the coronation after her divorce. But she remarked that her own situation was still preferable, for she already had children of her own, and could not hope to have more.”

Josephine possessed a perfect knowledge of all the different shades of the Emperor’s character, and she evinced the most exquisite tact in turning this knowledge to the best account. “For example,” said the Emperor, “she never solicited any favour for Eugène, or thanked me for any that I conferred on him. She never even shewed any additional complaisance or assiduity, at the moment when the greatest honours were lavished on him. Her grand aim was to prove that all this was my affair, and not hers, and that it tended to my advantage. Doubtless she entertained the idea that one day or other I should adopt Eugène as my successor.”

The Emperor said he was well convinced that he was the individual whom Josephine loved best in all the world: and he added, with a smile, that he was sure she would have relinquished any assignation to attend him. She never failed to accompany him on all his journeys. Neither fatigue nor privation could daunt her; and she employed importunity and even artifice to gain her point. "If I stepped into my carriage at midnight, to set out on the longest journey, to my surprise I found Josephine all ready prepared, though I had had no idea of her accompanying me. ‘But,’ I would say to her, ‘You cannot possibly go, the journey is too long and will be too fatiguing for you.’—‘Not at all,’ Josephine would reply. ‘Besides, I must set out instantly.’—‘Well, I am quite ready.’—‘But you must take a great deal of luggage.’—‘Oh, no! every thing is packed up;‘ and I was generally obliged to yield. In a word, Josephine rendered her husband happy, and constantly proved herself his sincerest friend. At all times and on all occasions, she manifested the most perfect submission and attachment; and thus I shall never cease to remember her with tenderness and gratitude.

“Josephine,” continued the Emperor, “placed the qualities of submission, obedience, and complaisance in her sex on a level with political address; and she often condemned the conduct of her daughter Hortense and her relation Stephanie, who lived on very bad terms with their husbands, frequently indulging in caprice, and pretending to assert their independence.

“Louis,” said the Emperor, “had been spoiled by reading the works of Rousseau. He contrived to agree with his wife only for a few months. There were faults on both sides. On the one hand, Louis was too teazing in his temper, and on the other Hortense was too volatile. They were attached to each other at the time of their marriage, which was agreeable to their mutual wishes. The union was, however, contrived by Josephine, who had her own views in promoting it. I, on the contrary, would rather have extended my connection with other families, and for a moment I had an idea of forming a union between Louis and a niece of M. de Talleyrand’s, who was afterwards Madame Juste de Noailles.”

The most ridiculous reports were circulated respecting an improper intercourse between Napoleon and Hortense, and it was even affirmed that the latter had had a child by the Emperor. “Such a connection,” said he, "would have been wholly repugnant to my ideas; and those who knew anything of the morality of the Tuileries must be aware that I need not have been reduced to so unnatural and revolting a choice. Louis knew perfectly well the value to which these reports were entitled; but his vanity and irritability of temper were nevertheless offended by them, and he frequently alluded to them as a ground for reproaching his wife.

“But Hortense,” continued the Emperor, "the virtuous, the generous, the devoted Hortense, was not entirely faultless in her conduct towards her husband. This I must acknowledge, in spite of all the affection I bore her, and the sincere attachment which I am sure she entertained for me. Though Louis’ whimsical humours were in all probability sufficiently teasing, yet he loved Hortense; and in such a case a woman should learn to subdue her own temper, and endeavour to return her husband’s attachment. Had she known how to repress her temper she would have spared herself the vexation of her late lawsuit; she would have passed a happier life; she would have accompanied her husband to Holland, and would have staid there. Louis would not then have fled from Amsterdam; and I should not have been compelled to unite his kingdom to mine, a measure which contributed to ruin my credit in Europe. Many other events might also have taken a different turn.

“The Princess of Baden,” continued the Emperor, "pursued a wiser course. On witnessing Josephine’s divorce, she recollected her own situation, and used every endeavour to gain her husband’s affections. They were afterwards a most happy couple.

"Pauline was too careless and extravagant. She might have been immensely rich, considering all that I gave her; but she gave all away in her turn. Her mother frequently lectured her on this subject, and told her that she would die in a hospital. _Madame_, however, carried her parsimony to a most ridiculous extreme. I offered to furnish her with a very considerable monthly income, on condition that she would spend it. She, on the other hand, was very willing to receive the money provided she were permitted to hoard it up. This arose not so much from covetousness as excess of foresight; all her fear was that she might one day be reduced to beggary. She had known the horrors of want, and they now constantly haunted her imagination. It is, however, but just to acknowledge that she gave a great deal to her children in secret. She is indeed a kind mother.

“Nevertheless,” continued the Emperor, “this woman, who was so reluctant to part with a single crown, would willingly have given me her all, on my return from the Island of Elba; and after the battle of Waterloo, she would have surrendered to me all she possessed in the world, to assist me in re-establishing my affairs. This she offered to do; and would, without a murmur, have doomed herself to live on brown bread.[16] Loftiness of sentiment still reigned paramount in her heart: pride and noble ambition were not yet subdued by avarice.”

Footnote 16:

How justly did the Emperor paint his mother’s character! On my return
to Europe I was delighted to witness the literal confirmation of all
that he had said respecting her.

As soon as I disclosed to Madame Mère the Emperor’s real situation,
and declared my resolution to exert all my efforts to alleviate his
misery, the answer returned to me by the courier was, that her whole
fortune was at her son’s disposal, and that she would earn her
livelihood if necessary by going to service. She at the same time,
authorised me, though I was not personally known to her, to draw
immediately in her name for any sum that I might think necessary for
the Emperor’s use. Cardinal Fesch also tendered his services in the
most affectionate way; and I must take this opportunity of mentioning
that all the different members of the Emperor’s family evinced equal
love, zeal, and devotedness. So long as my health permitted me to keep
up a correspondence with them, I received a multitude of letters,
which form altogether a most interesting collection. They reflect
honour on the hearts of the writers, and they would have proved a
source of consolation to the Emperor, had the restrictions of the
English government permitted me to submit them to his perusal.

Here the Emperor observed that he had still present in his memory the lessons of pride which he had received from his mother in his childhood, and which had influenced his conduct through life. The naturally powerful mind of Madame Mère had been exalted by the great events of which she had been a witness; she had seen five or six revolutions; and her house had been thrice burnt to the ground by factions in Corsica.

“Joseph,” said the Emperor, "rendered me no assistance; but he is a very good man. His wife, Queen Julia, is the most amiable creature that ever existed. Joseph and I were always attached to each other, and kept on very good terms. He loves me sincerely, and I doubt not that he would do every thing in the world to serve me. But his qualities are only suited to private life. He is of a gentle and kind disposition, possesses talent and information, and is altogether a very amiable man. In the discharge of the high duties which I confided to him, he did the best he could. His intentions were good; and therefore the principal fault rested not so much with him as with me, who raised him above his proper sphere. When placed in important circumstances, he found his strength unequal to the task imposed on him.

“The Queen of Naples had chiefly formed herself amidst great events. She had solid sense, strength of character, and boundless ambition.... She must naturally suffer severely from her reverses, more particularly as she may be said to have been born a Queen. She had not, like the rest of us,” observed the Emperor, "moved in the sphere of private life. Caroline, Pauline, and Jerome, were still in their childhood when I had attained supreme rank in France; thus they never knew any other state than that which they enjoyed during the period of my power.

“Jerome was an absolute prodigal. He plunged into boundless extravagance, and the most odious libertinism. His excuse perhaps may be his youth, and the temptations by which he was surrounded. On my return from the Isle of Elba, he appeared to be much improved, and to afford great promise. One remarkable testimony in his favour was the love with which he had inspired his wife, whose conduct was admirable, when, after my fall, her father, the despotic and harsh King of Wurtemberg, wished to procure her divorce. The Princess then, with her own hands, honourably inscribed her name in history.”

To our great regret, dinner was announced; but the Emperor continued to be very talkative during the whole of the evening. He took a familiar retrospect of various subjects, principally alluding to the conduct of many persons of note during his absence and at the time of his return. He did not retire until midnight, and he closed the evening’s conversation with the following words:—"What is doing at this moment in France and in Paris? and what shall we ourselves be doing on this day twelvemonth!"

THE EMPEROR SLEEPING.—MORAL REFLECTIONS.

20th.—Mr. Balcombe had intimated to me that he was appointed to supply us with what we wanted at the expense of the English Government; but I wrote to inform him that, as my own pecuniary circumstances enabled me to dispense with this favour, I was resolved not to avail myself of it. I therefore begged that he would obtain permission from the Governor, to receive from me a bill drawn on some person in England, which could not be transmitted without special permission. I wished to remain free from all obligations, so that nothing might impede me in freely exercising the just and sad privilege of venting my reproaches and imprecations.

The Emperor rode out in the calash very early. On his return, about three o’clock, he desired me to follow him to his chamber. “I am low-spirited, unwell, and fatigued,” said he, “sit down in that arm-chair, and bear me company.” He then threw himself on his couch and fell asleep, while I watched beside him. I sat within a few paces of him. His head was uncovered, and I gazed on his brow,—that brow on which were inscribed Marengo, Austerlitz, and a hundred other immortal victories. What were my thoughts and sensations at that moment? They may be imagined; but I cannot attempt to describe them!

In about three quarters of an hour, the Emperor awoke. He took a few turns in his chamber, and he then took a fancy to visit the apartments of all the individuals of his suite. When he had minutely considered all the inconveniences of mine, he said with a smile of indignation:—"Well, I do not think that any christian on earth can be worse lodged than you are."

After dinner, the Emperor attempted to read a part of the _Caravansêrail de Sarrazin_. After glancing over a few of the tales, and reading a page from one of them, he said:—"The moral of this story doubtless is that men never change. This is not true; they change both for better and worse. A thousand other maxims which authors attempt to establish are all equally false. They affirm that men are ungrateful; but no, they are not so ungrateful as is supposed: and if ingratitude be frequently a subject of complaint, it is because the benefactor requires more than he gives.

"It is also said that when you know a man’s character, you have a key to his whole conduct. This is a mistaken notion. A man may commit a bad action, though he be fundamentally good; he may be led into an act of wickedness, without being himself wicked. This is because man is usually actuated not by the natural bent of his character, but by a secret momentary passion, which has lain dormant and concealed in the inmost recesses of his heart. Another error is to suppose that the face is the mirror of the mind. The truth is that it is very difficult to know a man’s character. To avoid being deceived on this point, it is necessary to judge a person by his actions only; and it must be by his actions of the moment, and merely for that moment.

“In truth, men have their virtues and their vices, their heroism and their perversity; men are neither generally good nor generally bad; but they possess and practise all that is good and bad in this world. This is the principle: natural disposition, education and accidental circumstances produce the applications. I have always been guided by this opinion, and I have generally found it correct. However, I was deceived in 1814, when I believed that France, at the sight of her dangers, would make common cause with me; but I was not deceived in 1815, on my return from Waterloo.”

The Emperor felt unwell, and retired very early.

THE GOVERNOR ARRESTS ONE OF OUR SERVANTS.—THE
BIBLE.

21st.—The Emperor continued indisposed; we nevertheless took our usual airing in the calash. On our return, we were informed that the Governor had been to Longwood and had himself arrested one of our domestics, who had recently quitted the service of Deputy-Governor Skelton, and who had a few days since been engaged by General Montholon. On hearing this, the Emperor exclaimed: “What turpitude! what meanness! A Governor ... an English Lieutenant-General himself to arrest a servant! Really this conduct is too disgusting!”

The Grand Marshal joined us, and announced the arrival of a store ship, which had left England on the 8th of March.

After dinner, the Emperor asked what we would read, and we all decided for the Bible. “This is certainly very edifying,” said the Emperor; “it would never be guessed in Europe.” He read to us the book of Joshua, observing at almost every town or village that he named: “I encamped there; I carried that place by assault; I gave battle here, &c.”

INSTANCES OF THE CAPRICE OF AUTHORITY—PRINCESS
STEPHANIE OF BADEN, &C.

22nd.—In the course of this day a great deal was said about the sailors of the Northumberland, who had been given to us as domestics, and who, we now understood, were to be withdrawn from our service. They had, however, been engaged by a reciprocal contract, by which both parties were bound for the space of a year. But we are without the pale of ordinary law. The Governor affirmed that the Admiral wanted the men; and the Admiral said that he would allow them to remain with us if the Governor pleased. The sailors were taken away, and soldiers were sent in their stead; but these were also removed and sent back again, ordered away a second time and again sent back to us. We were unable to guess the meaning of all these changes.

While I was in the Emperor’s apartment, waiting for the announcement of dinner, the conversation fell on Madame Campan’s establishment, the young persons who had been educated in it, and the fortunes which the Emperor had conferred on some of them. He particularly alluded to Stephanie de Beauharnais, afterwards Princess of Baden, to whom he said he was much attached. He entered into many details respecting her.

Princess Stephanie of Baden lost her mother in her childhood. She was left in the care of an English lady, her mother’s intimate friend, who was very rich and without children, and who confided the education of her _protegée_ to some old nuns in the south of France, I believe at Montauban.

Napoleon, during his Consulship, one day heard Josephine mention this circumstance, while alluding to her young relation Stephanie. “How can you permit this?” said he. “How can you suffer one of your name to be supported by a foreigner, an Englishwoman, who must at this moment be regarded as our enemy? Are you not afraid that your memory will one day suffer for this?” A courier, was immediately despatched to bring the young lady to the Tuileries; but the nuns refused to part with her. Napoleon, however, instituted the necessary legal forms, and a second courier was speedily sent to the Prefect of the district, with orders instantly to seize the person of the young lady in the name of the law.

Owing to the circumstances of the times, such was the influence of certain systems of education, and of the opinions which they inspired, that Stephanie’s removal was to herself a source of deep regret; and she beheld not without terror him who declared himself her relative, and who was about to become her benefactor. She was placed in the establishment of Madame Campan, at St. Germain; all sorts of masters were appointed to superintend her education, and, on her introduction to the world, her beauty, wit, accomplishments, and virtues, rendered her an object of universal admiration.

The Emperor adopted her as his daughter, and gave her in marriage to the hereditary Prince of Baden. This union was for several years far from being happy. In course of time, however, the causes of difference gradually vanished; the Prince and Princess became attached to each other, and from that moment they had only to regret the happiness of which they had deprived themselves during the early years of their marriage.