Chapter XVI: Part 16

OBSERVATION. By the regulations which were first laid down, respecting our establishment at St. Helena, and which were approved by the English Governor, persons were admitted to Longwood in the following manner: The Governor, the Admiral, the Colonel commanding the regiment and the camp, the two members of the East India Company’s Council, and the Secretary-general, who were the persons highest in authority on the island, might pass the line of sentinels without any order or permission whatever. The inhabitants of the Island were required to have a pass from the Governor; naval men to be furnished with one from their Admiral, and military with one from their colonel; and finally, the inhabitants, sailors, and officers might all come to Longwood by the permission of Count Bertrand, when the Emperor wished to receive them. This arrangement, which continued for eight months, was attended by no inconvenience. By the present regulation (which has been in force since the month of August, though it was not formally communicated to us until we were furnished with the list of new restrictions,) we may be said to be kept in solitary confinement, and cut off from all intercourse with the inhabitants. The latter, the officers and seamen are all equally averse to the idea of being obliged to solicit the Governor’s permission to visit Longwood, and to subject themselves to an interrogatory respecting the motive of their visit. Strangers, whether civil or military, officers, touching at St. Helena on their passage from India, and who might be desirous of seeing the Emperor, usually applied to Count Bertrand, who appointed the day and the hour when they would be received. During their stay in the island they were regarded as citizens, and with the permission of Count Bertrand, they might when they pleased visit Longwood; and it may once more be observed that this arrangement subsisted for eight months without being attended by any inconvenience. If any strangers touching at the island might excite the suspicion of the Governor, he could prevent them from landing, or passing the first post. Finally, the Governor, by the report of the sentinels, was daily made acquainted with the names of the persons who visited Longwood. But in the month of August, the Governor sought to impose on us the obligation of receiving strangers, to whom he wished to render himself agreeable, and also of receiving them at the time he might think proper to appoint. This was putting the finishing stroke to all his offensive conduct! To put a stop to all these insults, the Emperor found himself obliged to declare that he would in future receive no one.

“3d.—The road to the left of Hut’s Gate, which turns off by Woodridge to Longwood, never having been frequented by General Bonaparte since the arrival of the Governor, the post by which it was observed, will be in a great measure withdrawn. But whenever the General may wish to ride on horseback in this direction, on giving timely notice to the officer he will experience no obstacle.“

OBSERVATION.—In the first observation it was proved that the limits had been contracted in this quarter; and, by this third article, they are still more circumscribed. To say that the valley has not been frequented for six months is a strange reason for adopting this decision. It is certainly true that Napoleon has for several months declined going out, in consequence of the harassing conduct of the Governor; but it must also be observed that one part of the valley is not accessible in rainy weather, and that in the other part a camp has been formed. Yet Lord Bathurst stated, in his speech in Parliament, that “this road had been prohibited, when it was found that he (General Bonaparte) had abused the confidence which had been reposed in him, and had endeavoured to corrupt the inhabitants of the island.” But here Lord Bathurst contradicts Sir Hudson Lowe. The offer of permission to ride in the valley, whenever it may be wished, is a mere pretence; the forms prescribed for the attainment of this permission render it impossible. This offer never has been, and never can be, fulfilled. The ride in the valley being thus prohibited, it has become impossible to visit Miss Mason’s garden, in which there are some large trees which afford agreeable shade. Within the boundaries to which the captives are now restricted, there is not a single spot in which they can enjoy the sight of trees or water: sentinels are posted at different distances throughout the boundaries; and, under the pretence of misunderstanding in the orders, &c., any individual may be arrested. This has frequently happened to the French officers.

“4th. If he (General Bonaparte) should wish to prolong his ride in any other directions, an officer of the Governor’s staff (if he receives timely notice) will be in readiness to attend him. If the notice should be short, the officer on duty at Longwood may take the place of the staff-officer.

“The inspecting officer has orders not to approach General Bonaparte, at least unless he be asked for; and not to watch him in his rides, except so far as his duty requires; that is to say, he must observe that the established rules are not violated; and if they should be transgressed, he must intimate the circumstance in a respectful way”

OBSERVATION. This regulation is useless. The Emperor will not go out so long as he sees there is a wish to subject him to direct and public inspection. Besides, the staff-officers have orders to report all that the French may say when in conversation with them. This affords opportunities for calumny. Several English officers have refused to act this dishonourable part, declaring that they would not degrade themselves to the level of spies, and repeat the conversations that may take place in the unguarded confidence of a ride or walk.

“5th. The rules already in force, for preventing communications with any one whatever, without the Governor’s permission, must be strictly enforced. Consequently, it is requisite that General Bonaparte should abstain from entering into any conversation (except such as the interchange of customary salutations may demand) with the persons whom he may happen to meet, unless it be in the presence of an English officer.“

OBSERVATION.—Hitherto this extremity of insult had been avoided. The Emperor does not acknowledge, either in the Governor or his agents, the right of imposing any restrictions on him. But what is the object of this article? To insult and degrade the character of the captives!—to give rise to disputes between them and the sentinels. To prohibit them from speaking to any one, or entering any house, is, in fact, a moral annulment of the circuit allowed them. This is so extraordinary that we are now actually induced to believe, what many persons have already suspected, that Sir Hudson Lowe is occasionally subject to fits of lunacy.

“6th.—Those persons who, with the consent of General Bonaparte, may receive the Governor’s permission to visit him, must not communicate with any individual of his suite, unless a permission to that effect be specially expressed.”

OBSERVATION.—This is useless; for nobody has been received since the present Governor abolished the regulations which were established by his predecessor. However, the consequence of this restriction is that, if Napoleon should receive a stranger, as none of his officers can be present, and none of his servants in attendance, he would be reduced to the necessity of opening the doors himself. Besides, as the Emperor does not understand English, it follows, if the individual admitted to him should not speak French, that they must both remain mute, and thus the interview would be reduced to a mere exhibition.

“7th.—At sunset, the garden round Longwood is to be regarded as the extent of the boundaries. At that time sentinels will be posted at the limits of the garden; but so as not to incommode General Bonaparte by observing his motions, should he wish to continue his walks. During the night, sentinels will be stationed close to the house, as they formerly were; and all admission must be prohibited until the sentinels are withdrawn from the house and garden on the following morning.”

OBSERVATION.—During the excessively hot season, the only time when it is possible to walk is after sun-set. In order to avoid meeting the sentinels, the Emperor finds it necessary to return to the house while it is still broad day-light; though the heat of the sun has rendered it impossible for him to go out during the day, as the grounds round Longwood are without shade, water, or verdure. According to this new restriction, the Emperor cannot enjoy a walk in the evening; while he is likewise deprived of the exercise of riding on horseback. He is confined in a small house, in all respects insufficient for his accommodation, badly built, unwholesomely situated, and without a supply of water; and, in addition to all this, every opportunity is taken to expose him to insult and disrespect. His constitution, though naturally robust, is very much enfeebled by the treatment he experiences.

“8th.—Every letter for Longwood will be enclosed by the Governor in a sealed envelope, and forwarded to the officer on duty, to be delivered, sealed, to the officer of General Bonaparte’s suite to whom it is addressed, who by this means will be assured that nobody except the Governor knows its contents.

“In like manner, letters from any of the residents of Longwood must be delivered to the officer on duty, enclosed in a second sealed envelope and addressed to the Governor, which will be a security that no individual except the latter can peruse its contents.

“No letter can be written or sent, and no communication of any kind whatever can be made, except in the manner above mentioned. No correspondence can be maintained with any individual in the island, except for the necessary communications to the purveyor. The notes containing these communications must be delivered open to the officer on duty, who will forward them to the proper quarter.

“The above-mentioned restrictions will be observed from the date of the 10th inst.

“H. LOWE.“

“_St. Helena, October 9th, 1816._“

OBSERVATION.—This last restriction has no reference to the Emperor, who neither writes nor receives letters. A simple explanation is, therefore, all that is required. Will the observations that may be contained in the confidential letters from the Emperor’s officers to their friends be regarded as offensive? When those who may read these letters shall be convinced that they are in no way hostile to the safety or policy of the state, will they forget their contents, so that they may never become the subject of conversation or abuse? This explanation will decide whether all correspondence is, or is not, to be considered as prohibited. The seizure of the person of Count Las Cases completely justifies this observation.

The object of the 8th article of the restrictions, as the inquisitorial system established on the island sufficiently proves, is to prevent the European journals from giving publicity to the criminal conduct that is pursued here. A vast deal of trouble is taken to secure this object: it would have been far easier to have acted in such a way as to render concealment unnecessary. A letter addressed to Count Bertrand, dated the 1st of July, 1816, goes to still greater lengths; for it prohibits even verbal communications with the inhabitants of the island. This is the delirium of fury and hatred; or rather, it may be said to be a proof of downright madness. The regulation here alluded to is but a trifling example of the vexations to which we are exposed, and the invention of which seems to be the sole occupation of the present Governor. Can Lord Bathurst now affirm that Sir H. Lowe has imposed no restriction; that the instructions of the English ministry were of a nature advantageous to Napoleon and his suite, and had no other object than that of securing their safe custody? In consequence of this absurd and insulting treatment, the Emperor has not enjoyed exercise without doors for several months. His medical attendants foresee that this confinement will prove fatal to his constitution. It is a more certain, and far more inhuman, mode of assassination, than poison or the sword. [What a horrible prophecy!]

ANXIETY OCCASIONED BY THE NEW RESTRICTIONS.—ANECDOTES OF
CAMPO-FORMIO.—MM. DE COBENTZEL, GALLO, AND CLARKE.—THE COUNT
D’ANTRAIGUES.

10th.—This morning we had agreed to meet together at the Grand Marshal’s, to deliberate on the restrictions which the Governor had recently transmitted to us, and to adopt a uniform resolution. I was unwell, and could not attend. I, however, wrote down my opinion: I stated that in the delicate situation in which I was placed I could do nothing; I could arrive at no positive conclusion; I always found 0—0.

The point in question was, indeed, of the most serious and difficult nature. We were required to subject ourselves to new restrictions, to place ourselves under the dependence of the Governor, who shamefully abused his power, employed the most insulting language towards the Emperor, and announced that we must submit to every grievance, under pain of being immediately separated from Napoleon, sent to the Cape, and thence to Europe.

On the other hand, the Emperor, indignant at the mortifications to which we were exposed on his account, insisted that we should no longer submit to them. He urged us rather to quit him, and to return to Europe, to bear witness that we had seen him absolutely buried alive.

But how could we for a moment endure this thought! Death was preferable to separation from him whom we served, admired, and loved; to whom we daily became more and more attached, through his personal qualities, and the miseries which injustice and hatred had accumulated upon him. This was the real state of the question. In these distressing circumstances, we knew not what determination to adopt. I closed my letter by stating that, if left to myself alone, I would sign, without scruple, any thing that the Governor might present to me; and that, if a collective resolution were taken, I would implicitly adopt it.

The Governor had now found out a method of attacking us in detail: he declared his intention of removing any individual of Napoleon’s suite according to his will and caprice.

The Emperor was indisposed: the Doctor has observed incipient scurvy. He desired me to attend him, and we conversed on the subjects which chiefly occupied our attention at the moment. He wanted something to amuse him, and he took up the chapter of Leoben, which happened to be beside him. When he had finished reading it, the conversation turned on the conferences which brought about the treaty of Campo-Formio. I refer to the chapters on that subject for the portrait and character of the first Austrian negotiator, M. de Cobentzel, whom Napoleon surnamed the “_great northern bear_,” on account of the influence which, he said, his heavy paw had exercised on the green table of the conferences.

“M. de Cobentzel was at that time,” said the Emperor, “the agent of the Austrian monarchy, the main spring of its plans, and the director of its diplomacy. He had been appointed on all the principal European embassies, and had been long at the Court of Catharine, whose peculiar favour he enjoyed. Proud of his rank and importance, he doubted not that his dignified and courtly manners would easily overawe a General who had just issued from the revolutionary camp. Thus,” observed Napoleon, “he shewed a want of respect in addressing the French General; but the first words uttered by the latter sufficed to reduce him to his proper level, above which he never afterwards attempted to rise.”

The conferences at first proceeded very slowly; for M. de Cobentzel, according to the custom of the Austrian Cabinet, proved himself very skilful in the art of retarding business. The French General, however, determined to bring matters to an issue: the conference, which he had declared should be the last, was maintained with great warmth. Napoleon came, resolved to have a decisive answer to his propositions; they were rejected. He then rose in a fit of passion, and exclaimed energetically: “You wish for war then?—You shall have it:” and laying his hands on a magnificent piece of porcelain (which M. de Cobentzel used with great complacency to boast of having received as a present from the great Catharine), he dashed it with all his force on the ground, where it was broken into a thousand pieces. “There,” he exclaimed, “such, I promise you, will be the fate of your Austrian monarchy in less than three months:” and so saying, he rushed out of the apartment. M. de Cobentzel stood petrified; but M. de Gallo, who was of a more conciliatory temper, followed the French General to his carriage, endeavouring to detain him. “He almost dragged me back by main force,” said the Emperor, “and with so pitiable an air, that, in spite of my apparent anger, I could not refrain from laughing in my sleeve.”

M. de Gallo was the ambassador from Naples to Vienna, whither he had conducted the Neapolitan Princess, the second wife of the Emperor Francis. He possessed the full confidence of the Princess, and she, in her turn, ruled her husband: thus the ambassador enjoyed great influence at the Court of Vienna. When the army of Italy, marching on Vienna, dictated the armistice of Leoben, the Empress, at this critical juncture, cast her eyes on her confident, and charged him to avert the danger. He was to gain an interview with the French General, as if accidentally, and to endeavour to prevail on him to accept his services as a negotiator. Napoleon, who was well acquainted with every circumstance, determined to turn his knowledge to a good account. Accordingly, on receiving M. de Gallo, he inquired who he was. The favourite courtier, disconcerted to find himself under the necessity of telling his name, replied that he was the Marquess de Gallo, and that he had been charged by the Emperor of Austria to make overtures to Napoleon. “But,” said the latter, “your name is not German.” “True,” replied M. de Gallo,” I am the Neapolitan ambassador.” “And how happens it,” said Napoleon drily, “that I have to treat with Naples? We are at peace. Has the Emperor of Austria no negotiators of the old school? Is the old aristocracy of Vienna extinct?” M. de Gallo, alarmed at the idea of such observations being officially communicated to the Cabinet of Vienna, now became intent on ingratiating himself into the favour of the young General.

Napoleon enquired what news had been received from Vienna, and spoke of the armies of the Rhine, the Sambre, and the Meuse. He obtained all the intelligence he could; and, when he was about to withdraw, M. de Gallo, in the most suppliant tone, inquired whether he might hope to be accepted as a negotiator, and whether he should proceed to Vienna to obtain full powers. Napoleon had no wish to decline this proposal; he had gained an advantage which he was not willing to lose. M. de Gallo, who subsequently became ambassador from Naples to the First Consul, and also ambassador from Joseph to the Emperor Napoleon, frequently mentioned this scene, and frankly avowed that he had never been so frightened in the whole course of his life.

In the French negotiations, Clarke acted the same kind of secondary part which M. de Gallo maintained with regard to Austria. “Clarke,” said the Emperor, “had been sent to Italy by the Directory, which had begun to consider me as dangerous. He was charged with an ostensible and public mission; but he had secret orders to keep an eye upon me, and to ascertain if, in case of necessity, it would be possible to arrest me. But little reliance could have been placed on the officers of my army, in an affair of this kind, and therefore the first inquiries were addressed to the Cisalpine Directory. The answer was that it would be as well to spare trouble on this point, and to give up all idea of it. As soon as I was made acquainted with Clarke’s real instructions, I frankly told him all I knew; at the same time assuring him that I should concern myself but very little about any reports that might be made. He was soon convinced of this. When, on his mission to Austria, he was dismissed, by that Power, I offered to find employment for him, and he afterwards remained with me; though perhaps there was, in reality, but little sympathy between us. I should undoubtedly have again taken him into my service, after my return, if I had found him in the ranks along with the rest. You know that I could not easily rid myself of those to whom I had become accustomed: when people had once embarked with me, I could never prevail on myself to throw them overboard. Nothing but absolute necessity could force me to such a course. Clarke’s chief merit was that of being a good man of business.”

After Brumaire, Clarke naturally came in contact with the First Consul as his aid-de-camp, &c. There was then little etiquette observed at the palace; the duties were not distinctly separated, and the whole presented a kind of family circle. The officers immediately connected with the Consul dined at a general table. Clarke, who was extremely susceptible and punctilious, got involved in quarrels with one of these persons. The circumstance having reached the ears of the First Consul, he appointed Clarke ambassador to Florence, to the court of the Queen of Etruria. This post was in itself highly agreeable; but Clarke had been appointed to it by way of disgrace. He urgently solicited his recal; and, at length, to his great satisfaction, he received an order to return to France. But his punishment was not yet at an end. The First Consul took but little notice of him: he sent him to the Tuileries, to St. Cloud, and to the camp of Boulogne, without explaining his intentions, or granting him any thing. Clarke, in despair, told one of his friends that he had no alternative but to throw himself into the Seine, as he could no longer endure the contempt to which he was exposed, added to the mortification of being deprived of his situation. Just at this time he was unexpectedly made Secretary of the Topographical Cabinet, Councillor of State, and appointed to some other posts, which altogether produced him a salary of 60 or 80,000 francs. This was Napoleon’s way: his first favour was usually followed immediately by several others. In these cases his bounty was overwhelming. But it was necessary to take advantage of the interval of favour; it might be endless, or it might be instantly and irretrievably lost.

I knew General Clarke well; he had been my comrade at the Military School. He informed me that, some days before the battle of Jena, the Emperor, from whose dictation he had just written numerous orders and instructions, entering into a familiar conversation, while he walked up and down his chamber, said: “In three or four days I will fight a battle, which I shall gain: it will bring me at least as far as the Elbe, and perhaps to the Vistula. There I will fight a second battle, which I shall also gain. Then ... then ...,” said he, with a meditative air, and placing his hand on his forehead ... “but that is enough; it is useless to invent romances,—Clarke, in a month you will be Governor of Berlin; and history will record that, in the space of one year, and in two different wars, you were Governor of Vienna and Berlin; that is to say, of the Austrian and Prussian monarchies. By the bye,” continued he, smiling, “what did Francis give you for governing his capital?”—“Nothing at all, Sire.”—“How, nothing at all?—That was hard indeed! Well, in that case, I must pay his debt.” And he gave him, as far as I can recollect, a sum sufficient to purchase an hotel in Paris, or a country house in the vicinity of the capital.

The course of events exceeded even Napoleon’s expectations. He fought but one battle, which brought him to Berlin, and enabled him to advance to the Vistula.

“Clarke,” said Napoleon, “possessed a strong taste for family parchments. At Florence he spent a great portion of his time in investigating my genealogy. He also took great pains to trace out his own, and I believe he at length persuaded himself that he was related to the whole Faubourg Saint-Germain. Doubtless he has a much higher opinion of his own dignity, now that he is the Minister of a legitimate King than he had when he was merely the Minister of an upstart Emperor. It is said that he at present enjoys great favour; I wish it may last. It commenced a few days before my arrival at Paris, when the cause of the King was desperate. It certainly appeared useless to accept a ministry when all was lost; but I have nothing to say against that. This sort of conduct may have its fair side; yet it is necessary to observe some degree of decorum, and in that Clarke was wholly wanting. However, I willingly forgive him in all that concerns me.... In 1813 and 1814 some persons endeavoured to inspire me with doubts of Clarke’s fidelity; but I never would listen to any thing of the kind. I always believed him to be an honest man.” The intimate friends of the Duke de Feltre can bear witness that Napoleon was correct in the opinion he had formed of the character of his minister.

The Duke de Feltre, on communicating to the Emperor the intelligence of the arrival of the Count d’Artois in Switzerland, advised him to make peace. Napoleon replied, under date of 22d of February, 1814:—“As to your advice of making peace, it is too absurd: it is by cherishing such notions as this that public spirit is destroyed. Besides, it is supposing me either mad or stupid to imagine that, if I could conclude peace, I would not immediately do it. To the prevailing notion that it has been in my power to make peace for four months past, but that I declined doing so, must be attributed all the misfortunes of France. I expected, at least, to have been spared the pain of hearing such sentiments expressed.”

The Emperor, reverting to the events of Campo-Formio, alluded to the arrest of the Count d’Antraigues, the papers that were found upon him, and the discoveries to which they gave rise; he also mentioned the indulgence which the Count experienced, and the treachery with which that indulgence was repaid.

The Count d’Antraigues, who was a man of considerable talent, fond of intrigue, and endowed with personal advantages, had acquired a certain degree of importance at the commencement of our Revolution. He was a member of the right hand side of the Constituent Assembly, and he emigrated at the time of its dissolution. At the period when the French were about to assail Venice, the Count d’Antraigues was residing there, where he held a diplomatic appointment from the Russian Government, and was the main spring and agent of all the machinations that were plotting against France. On seeing the danger of the Venetian Republic, he attempted to escape; but he fell in with one of our posts, and was seized, with all his papers. The General-in-chief appointed a special commission to examine these documents, and the secrets which they unfolded were the subject of great astonishment. They contained, among other things, full proof of the treason of Pichegru, who had sacrificed his troops to facilitate the operations of the enemy. “Pichegru,” exclaimed the Emperor indignantly, “was guilty of the most odious crime that can possibly be conceived, that of coldly sacrificing the men whose lives had been entrusted to his honour and discretion.”

The Count d’Antraigues, finding that all his secrets were discovered, conducted himself with so much address and apparent candour, that Napoleon, conceiving he had gained him over, or, to speak more properly, suffering himself to be gained over by the Count, treated him with the utmost indulgence. He defended him against the proceedings of the Directory, which insisted on having him shot, and the Count was allowed to proceed to Milan on his parole. But what was Napoleon’s surprise on learning that M. d‘Antraigues had escaped to Switzerland, and had published an infamous libel against him, reproaching him with ill-treatment, and complaining of having been confined in chains? These falsehoods occasioned so much indignation that several foreign diplomatists, who knew how Napoleon had really acted towards the Count, spontaneously made a public declaration of what they had witnessed.

So late as the year 1814, the Count d‘Antraigues died in England, in a horrible way, being assassinated by his valet-de-chambre in the presence of his wife, who was the celebrated singer Saint Huberti.

At the time of the seizure of the Count d‘Antraigues‘ papers, Pichegru was at the head of the Legislative Body, and was almost at open war with the Directory. It may well be supposed that the members of the Directory were highly gratified by thus obtaining important and authentic documents against their adversaries. This discovery greatly influenced Napoleon in the course which he adopted in the events of Fructidor: it was one of the principal causes of his famous proclamation, which brought about the triumph of the Directory.

Desaix, who was serving under Moreau in the army of the Rhine, having taken advantage of the armistice to introduce himself to the General-in-chief of the army of Italy, for whom he had conceived the highest admiration, was with Napoleon at the time of the important discovery above mentioned. Napoleon having informed him of the treason of Pichegru, Desaix observed; “But we knew all this on the Rhine three months ago. A waggon, belonging to General Klinglin’s corps, which fell into our hands, furnished us with all Pichegru’s correspondence with the enemies of the Republic.”—“And did Moreau give no intimation of this to the Directory?” “No.”—“Then he is very blameable,” exclaimed Napoleon; “when the safety of one’s country is at stake silence is guilt!” After Pichegru’s fall, Moreau communicated to the Directory all he knew respecting the conspiracy, at the same time pronouncing a severe reprobation on those who were concerned in it. “This was but another instance of misconduct,” said Napoleon; “by not speaking earlier, he betrayed his country; and by speaking so late, he merely struck a blow at one who was already fallen.”

THE EMPEROR’S DREAM.

11th—12th. The produce of the sale of a portion of plate, amounting to 6000 francs, was this day received. This sum the Emperor considered indispensible to make up our deficiencies at the expiration of every month; and he ordered the sale to be repeated regularly.

The Emperor continues very ill, and is in very low spirits. To-day he did not leave his room until dinner-time. He conversed very little, and did not apply himself to any kind of occupation. I remained with him the greater part of the day. He spoke frequently of the situation in which we stood with respect to the Governor, and made some very remarkable observations on that subject. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

After dinner he mentioned a dream which he had had during the night. A lady with whom he had been but little acquainted (Madame Clarke, Duchess de Feltre) appeared to him in his dream, and told him she was dead, at the same time adding several observations which were expressed in language perfectly connected and intelligible. “Every thing was so clear and distinct,” said the Emperor, “that it has made a forcible impression on me; so much so that if I were really to hear of the death of the Duchess de Feltre, I must confess that my established ideas would be shaken; and perhaps,” said he, smiling and looking at one of the company, “I too should become a believer in dreams and apparitions.”

The Emperor ate little; his spirits were depressed, and he was evidently very ill. He retired almost immediately, and his manner affected us greatly. We could not help remarking how much he was altered.

PRIVATIONS TO WHICH THE EMPEROR IS SUBJECTED.—HIS
CLAIMS ON PRINCE EUGENE.

13th.—The Emperor came to me about ten o’clock. He looked in at my room-door, and blamed me for not having risen earlier. He found me using the foot-bath for I was not well. I soon joined him beneath the tent, where he wished to breakfast. He told me he had given orders for drawing up some notes relative to the new restrictions, to prevent condemnation being passed on us without a sort of responsibility being attached to those who passed the sentence. He then proceeded to calculate the lots of plate which remain to be sold, and the period during which they would serve to maintain us. I repeated the offers which I have already several times made, telling him that it was hard he should be reduced to the necessity of disposing of his plate; but he replied,—“My dear Las Cases, under whatever circumstances I may be placed, those articles of luxury are never of any importance to me; and as far as regards others, that is to say, as far as regards the public, simplicity will always be my best ornament.” He added that he could, after all, claim the assistance of Prince Eugène; and that he was even inclined to write to him for the loans which would be necessary for his subsistence when the plate should be exhausted. He also expressed his intention of commissioning Eugène to forward to him some important books which he wished to have sent from London, together with a small quantity of choice wine, which it was necessary he should take as a medicine. “This commission for wine,” said he, will make our enemies in Europe say that we think of nothing here but eating and drinking.” He said that he should feel no hesitation in addressing himself on this subject to Eugène, who owed to him every thing he possessed; and that it would be insulting the character of the Prince to doubt his readiness to serve him, particularly as he had, besides, a legal claim upon him for about ten or twelve millions.

While we were at breakfast, the Emperor sent for the Pole, who is soon to leave us. After breakfast he wished to employ himself in reading or dictating; but he felt very drowsy, and fell asleep several times. He retired to his chamber, to lie down for a while, desiring me to attend him at one o’clock for his English lesson. But when the appointed hour arrived, he was still in the same state of drowsiness; and he only succeeded in rousing himself by taking a bath, in which, according to custom, he remained for a long time. It is surprising that this practice, joined to that of taking very hot baths, does not prove injurious to him.

The Emperor ate but little dinner, and he complained of not enjoying regular and sound rest. He conversed for some time on the subject of balloons, and laughed at those biographical notices which represent him as having forced himself, sword in hand, into the balloon of the military school. He mentioned, as a sort of prodigy, the circumstance of the balloon which ascended at his coronation having fallen, in the space of a few hours, in the neighbourhood of Rome, bearing intelligence of the ceremony to the inhabitants of that city.

The Emperor took up Don Quixote; but he closed the book in about half an hour: he cannot now apply himself to reading for a longer interval. His health visibly declines. He often observes to me that we are both growing very old, and that he is much the older of the two: these words tell a great deal.

THE REQUIRED DECLARATION IS SENT TO THE GOVERNOR.—THE EMPEROR REMARKS
THAT MANY MODERN BOOKS ARE MERELY BOOKSELLERS‘ SPECULATIONS.—FALSE
NOTIONS CREATED BY PARTY SPIRIT.—GENERAL MAISON.

14th.—To-day the Grand Marshal forwarded to the Governor the new declarations which he required us to make. They were all alike, and were as follows:

“I, the undersigned, hereby declare that I wish to remain at St. Helena, and to share the restrictions which are imposed on the Emperor Napoleon personally.”

About one o’clock I went to attend the Emperor in his chamber. I gave him an account of some private commissions. He was reading a work on the government of France. He thought it very indifferent, and observed that, since he had been in the habit of perusing new publications, he had found them, for the most part, to be merely matters of speculation,—things got up for sale by booksellers. The world, he said, was now threatened with a deluge of bad books, and he saw no remedy that could effectually counteract so great an evil.

After having dressed, the Emperor repaired to the drawing-room, where he looked over a few English newspapers, and read some lines of Telemachus. But he felt fatigued and low-spirited, and suspended his reading. We discoursed on several subjects which intimately concerned the Emperor, who closed the conversation by several times repeating,—“_Poor human nature!_”

During another interval of conversation, Napoleon, taking a review of several well-known individuals, on whom he pronounced his opinion, alluded to one, whom he represented as being a most immoral and base character. I happened to be acquainted with this person, and I observed that I knew him to be quite the reverse of what I had just heard described. I was defending the individual in question with considerable warmth when the Emperor interrupted me, saying: “I give full credit to what you say; but I had heard a different account of him: and though I generally made it a rule to hear things of this kind with suspicion, yet you see I could not always avoid retaining some impression of what I heard. Was this my fault? When I had no particular motive for inquiry, how could I arrive at the knowledge of facts? This,” continued he, “is the inevitable consequence of civil commotions: there are always two reputations between the two parties. What absurdities, what ridiculous stories, are related of the individuals who figured in our Revolution![33] The saloons of Paris are full of them. I have had my full share of this kind of scandal. After me who can have any right to complain? Yet I protest that nothing of this sort ever produced any influence on my mind, or occasioned me in any instance to alter my determinations, &c.”

Footnote 33:

I take this opportunity of correcting an error of the nature here
alluded to. In a preceding part of this work, it is stated that M.
Monge ascended the Jacobinical tribune, &c. The friends and relatives
of that distinguished man have, however, assured me that all who knew
him at the time in question can bear witness that he never appeared
among them, and that he never spoke in any public assembly. I feel
pleasure in mentioning this circumstance; for nothing affords me
greater happiness than to be the means of developing truth.

After alluding to several military officers, the Emperor mentioned General Maison. “His manœuvres,” said he, “round Lille, in the crisis of 1814, attracted my attention, and fixed him in my recollection. He was not with us in 1815. What became of him? Where was he at that time?”—I could not answer these questions, as I did not know the General.

DIFFICULTIES STARTED BY THE GOVERNOR RESPECTING OUR DECLARATIONS.—THE
EMPEROR’S SENTIMENTS ON THAT SUBJECT.—THE GOVERNOR’S CONVERSATION
WITH EACH INDIVIDUAL OF THE EMPEROR’S SUITE.—NAPOLEON’S
REMARK.—CONSUMMATION OF OUR SLAVERY.

15th. For some time past I have found it impossible to sleep; and I have passed whole nights without closing my eyes. About eight o’clock this morning, as I was endeavouring to compose myself to rest, the Grand Marshal entered my chamber, to inform me that the Governor had sent back our declarations, and was coming himself to oblige us to sign that which he had sent as a model, and which differed from ours only with respect to the title which we gave to the Emperor. It was wished that we should designate him merely by the name _Bonaparte_.

The Grand Marshal proceeded to the Emperor’s apartments, whither I was almost immediately summoned. On entering, I found the Emperor walking about and expressing himself with great warmth. All the individuals of the suite were assembled together. “The insults,” said he, “which are daily heaped upon those who have devoted themselves to me, insults which, it is very probable, will be multiplied to a still greater extent, present a spectacle which I cannot and must not longer endure. Gentlemen, you must leave me; I cannot see you submit to the restrictions which are about to be imposed on you, and which will doubtless soon be augmented. I will remain here alone. Return to Europe, and make known the horrible treatment to which I am exposed; bear witness that you saw me sinking into a premature grave. I will not allow any one of you to sign this declaration in the form that is required. I forbid it. It shall never be said that hands which I had the power to command were employed in recording my degradation. If obstacles are raised respecting a mere foolish formality, others will be started to-morrow for an equally trivial cause. It is determined to remove you in detail; but I would rather see you removed altogether and at once. Perhaps this sacrifice may produce a result.” With these words he dismissed us, and we withdrew overwhelmed with dismay.

In a few moments the Emperor again sent for me. He was walking up and down, through the whole length of his two little rooms. There was a peculiar tenderness in the tone of his voice, and I never observed more easy familiarity in his manner. “Well, my dear Las Cases,” said he, “I am going to turn hermit,” “Sire,” said I, “are you not one already? What resources does our society present to you? We can only offer you prayers and good wishes; which, though they can contribute but little to your consolation, are every thing to us. Our present situation is the most distressing that can possibly be conceived; for, in the question under consideration, we now perhaps, for the first time, find it difficult to obey your Majesty. You hold the language of reason; while we are guided only by sentiment. The arguments which you just now addressed to us admit of no reply. Your determination is in unison with your character; it will astonish no one, but its execution is beyond our power. The thought of leaving you here alone exceeds in horror all that our imagination can picture.”—“Such, however, is my fate,“ replied the Emperor calmly, “and I must prepare for the worst: my mind is strong enough to meet it. They will cut short my life; that is certain.”—“Sire,” I observed, “the step which you command is not to be thought of. To the last moment I will speak out as your Majesty has done: on this point I will resist to the utmost; but I shall find it impossible to act as I speak.”

The Emperor seated himself, and desired me to sit down beside him. He observed that he was much fatigued; and he ordered breakfast, desiring me to stay with him. For a considerable time past, I had not been in the habit of dining with him; he told me the reason why I had been denied this happiness; and I considered it as a favour that he should condescend to tell me. When the coffee was brought in, there was no cup for me. Marchand was going to fetch one; but the Emperor called him back, saying: “Take that one from the mantel-piece: he shall drink out of my handsome gold cup.”[34]

Footnote 34:

This was the cup belonging to his dressing-table, which stood on the
chimney-piece as an ornament.

I have now the happiness of possessing the saucer belonging to this
cup. M. Marchand, that faithful servant, to whom Napoleon declared
himself so much attached, on his return from St. Helena, came and
presented this saucer to me, in a manner that forcibly roused my
gratitude and sensibility. “The beautiful cup,” said he, “out of which
you sometimes drank, belonged to the Emperor’s dressing-table, and was
accordingly restored to its place. The saucer, however, among other
articles, fell to my share; and I now present it to you, being assured
that you will feel as much pleasure in receiving as I have in giving
it.”

Just as breakfast was over, the Grand Marshal entered and told us that the Governor had arrived, and had expressed a wish to see him at his (Bertrand‘s) new house, which is a very short distance from our establishment, and is at length on the point of being completed. The Emperor desired him to attend the Governor. The Grand Marshal, as he was about to withdraw, seemed desirous to know whether the Emperor still persisted in the orders he had given us this morning, in case the Governor should not yield. The Emperor sharply observed: “I am not a child; when I have once thoroughly considered a question, I no longer entertain two opinions upon it. I have directed battles which have decided the fate of empires, and the orders I issued were always the result of my mature deliberation. In this instance I am alone concerned. Go!”

The Grand Marshal soon returned with an account of the interview, which he had closed by his refusal. The Governor, he said, had desired to see the other three persons of the suite together; but we thought that it would be more proper to present ourselves in succession.

I went to wait on the Governor. I found him, surrounded by several of his attendants, in the garden, near the path leading to the Grand Marshal’s house. He withdrew on perceiving me; but I joined him in the court before the house.

As he had expressed himself very much irritated against me, I went as well fortified as I possibly could. He, however, conducted me with great politeness into the house, leaving the officers of his suite on the outside; and, having told me that he awaited the arrival of Messrs. de Montholon and Gourgaud, to enter upon the business, I asked him whether he had any objection to treat immediately with me. He replied that he had not; and, calling in his officers, he told me, in their presence, that I had no doubt learned from the Grand Marshal what he had to propose on the subject of my declaration. I replied in the affirmative, at the same time observing that I regarded the Grand Marshal as my model and guide, on account of his rank, as well as the respect and esteem I entertained for him, and therefore it was natural to expect that my answer should correspond with his. I added that I could not conceive why so much importance was attached to a mere matter of form, which was so painful to our feelings, while it could be of no service to those who insisted on it. “It is out of my power,” said the Governor, “to make the alteration you wish. I am directed to present to you for signature the declaration written in my hand: now I, being an Englishman, cannot write the title you wish.”—“I was not aware of that,” replied I; “to that argument I have no reply to make. You, as an Englishman, must write thus; but I, being a Frenchman, must sign in my language; that is to say, with the translation from yours. Allow me, therefore, to add to my signature any phrase that you may think proper to dictate to me, in which I can express myself in my own language. You may now judge,” added I, “whether I deal candidly, and whether I seek to create difficulties.” This proposal seemed to claim his attention. “We are now,” I continued, “merely disputing about words, which may appear very silly, considering the important circumstances in which we are placed; but, Sir, who created these difficulties? Who will suffer from them? Your refusal places us in a most distressing situation! You see me reduced to the utmost despair! To me separation from the Emperor would be worse than death; yet I would rather submit to it than suffer my hand to be the instrument of his degradation. The Emperor unites in himself all that constitutes an august character, in the eyes of God and man: to deny this would be to deny the light of the sun.”

The Governor observed that he, as an Englishman, could not acknowledge the Emperor; and I replied that I could urge no objection to that. I added that however much I might be hurt by his mode of designating the Emperor, yet I did not mean to question his right of using whatever terms he might think proper; and that, for the same reason, he ought not to object to my opinions and expressions, considering that I was a Frenchman, and that he demanded my signature.

Here Sir Hudson Lowe angrily alluded to some past circumstances relating to himself personally; and he observed that, after all, moral character was the only real title to respect. “At that rate, Governor,” replied I, with some warmth, and turning to the Officers who were in attendance, “the Emperor may divest himself of all his titles, and he will but gain in the opinion of the world, if his character be estimated by the scale to which you allude.” The Governor was silent: then, after a pause of a few moments, he observed that we still treated our General as though he were an Emperor. “And how can we treat him otherwise?”—“I mean to say, that you continue to look upon him as a Sovereign.”—“Governor, you talk of revering him as our Sovereign; we do more—we worship him! We now consider the Emperor as removed from this world; we view him as though he were in Heaven!... When you leave us a choice that is in opposition to him, it is like the choice given to martyrs, when they are commanded to renounce their faith or die. “Death, therefore, must be our alternative.” These words produced a visible impression on the officers who were present, and even on the Governor. Contrary to custom, his countenance assumed a mild expression, and the tone of his voice was softened.

“Our situation here,” continued I, “is so horrible as to be almost beyond endurance. You know this;—but what we now suffer is nothing to the misery which is reserved for us. What I ask will be no sacrifice to you, and it will be every thing to us. I implore you to grant what I request; and this is something, for you know I am not in the habit of soliciting favours from you. Make but this one concession, and you will claim my eternal gratitude. Besides, consider that a responsibility rests with you; that there is a public opinion in Europe, which you may forfeit without gaining any advantage in return. You cannot be a stranger to the sentiments which animate me; they must, I am sure, go to the hearts of all who listen to me.”

Here the Governor appeared somewhat moved; the officers were evidently affected. Sir Hudson Lowe, after a few moments‘ silence, bowed to me, and I took my leave.

Messrs. de Montholon and Gourgaud had each an interview in their turn; and we all four attended the Emperor during his toilet, without, however, being able to tell him whether any decision had been formed on the subject that so deeply interested us.

The Emperor expressed a wish to go out, though the wind was extremely boisterous: we all walked to the extremity of the wood. He took a review of the Governor’s conduct, making remarks upon it in the rapid and copious way peculiar to himself; and he concluded by saying that if to-day we should agree to sign the declaration, in order to avoid being separated from him, to-morrow another ground of expulsion would be brought forward; and that he should wish our removal to be effected forcibly and at once, rather than tranquilly and in detail. Then, suddenly assuming a tone of pleasantry, he said that, after all, he could hardly believe the Governor wished to reduce his subjects to one only; and what sort of subject would that one be! added he—an absolute porcupine, on which he would not dare to lay a finger.