_Published for Henry Colburn, March, 1836._
]
POLITICAL EXAMINATION OF CONSCIENCE.—FAITHFUL STATEMENT OF THE CONDITION
AND PROSPERITY OF THE EMPIRE.—LIBERAL IDEAS OF THE EMPEROR ON THE
INDIFFERENCE OF PARTIES.—MARMONT.—MURAT.—BERTHIER.
27th.—This day the Emperor was walking in the garden with the Grand
Marshal and me. The conversation led us to make our political
self-examination.
The Emperor said that he had been very warm and sincere at the
commencement of the Revolution; that he had cooled by degrees, in
proportion as he acquired more just and solid ideas. His patriotism had
sunk under the political absurdities and monstrous domestic excesses of
our legislatures. Finally, his republican faith had vanished on the
violation of the choice of the people, by the Directory, at the time of
the battle of Aboukir.
The Grand Marshal said that, for his part, he had never been a
republican; but a very warm constitutionalist until the 10th of August,
the horrors of which day had cured him of all illusion. He had very
nearly been massacred in defending the King at the Tuileries.
As for me, it was notorious that I had begun my career as a pure and
most ardent royalist. “Why, then, it seems, gentlemen,” humorously
observed the Emperor, “that I am the only one amongst us who has been a
republican.”—"And something more, Sire," Bertrand and I both
replied.—"Yes," repeated the Emperor, “republican and patriot.”—"And I
have been a patriot, Sire," replied one of us, “notwithstanding my
royalism; but, what is still more extraordinary, I did not become so
till the period of the Imperial reign.”—"How! rogue!—are you compelled
to own that you did not always love your country?"—"Sire, we are making
our political self-examination, are we not? I confess my sins. When I
returned to Paris, by virtue of your amnesty, could I at first look upon
myself as a Frenchman, when every law, every decree, every ordinance
that covered the walls, constantly added the most opprobrious epithets
to my unlucky denomination of Emigrant. Nor did I think of remaining,
when I first arrived. I had been attracted by curiosity, yielding to the
invincible influence of one’s native land, and the desire of breathing
the air of one’s country. I now possessed nothing there: in order to be
allowed only to see France once more, I had been compelled, at the
frontier, to swear to the relinquishment of my patrimony, to accede to
the laws which decreed its loss; and I looked on myself as a mere
traveller in that country once mine. I was a true foreigner,
discontented and even malevolent. The empire came; it was a great event.
Now," said I, “my manners, prejudices, and principles triumph; the only
difference is in the person of the sovereign. When the campaign of
Austerlitz opened, my heart, with surprise, found itself once more
French. My situation was painful; I felt as if torn limb from limb; I
was divided between blind passion and national sentiment: the triumphs
of the French army and their general displeased me; yet their defeat
would have humbled me. At length, the prodigies of Ulm, and the
splendour of Austerlitz, put an end to my embarrassment. I was
vanquished by glory.—I admired, I acknowledged, I loved Napoleon; and
from that moment I became French to enthusiasm. Henceforth I have had no
other thoughts, spoken no other language, felt no other sentiments; and
here I am by your side.”
The Emperor then asked innumerable questions relative to the Emigrants,
their numbers, and disposition. I related many curious facts respecting
our princes, the Duke of Brunswick, and the King of Prussia. I made him
laugh at the extravagance of our presumption, our unbounded confidence
of success, the disorder of our affairs, the incapacity of our leaders.
“Men,” said I, “really were not at that time what they have since been.
Fortunately, those with whom we had to contend were, at first, only our
equals in strength. Above all, we thought, and repeated to one another,
that an immense majority of the French nation was on our side; and, for
my part, I firmly believed it. I soon had, however, an opportunity of
being undeceived; when our parties having arrived at Verdun, and beyond
it, not a single person came to join us; on the contrary, every one fled
at our approach. Nevertheless I still believed it, even after my return
from England; so greatly did we deceive ourselves afterwards with the
absurdities that we related to each other. We said that the government
was vested in a handful of people; that it was maintained by force
alone; that it was detested by the nation; and there must be some who
have never ceased to think so. I am persuaded that, amongst those who
now talk in that manner in the Legislative Body, there are some who
speak as they think; so perfectly do I recognise the spirit, the ideas,
and the expressions of Coblentz.”—“But at what period were you
undeceived?” said the Emperor.—“Very late, Sire. Even when I rallied,
and came to your Court, I was led much more by admiration and sentiment,
than by conviction of your strength and stability. However, when I came
into your Council of State, seeing the freedom with which the most
decisive decrees were voted, without a single thought of the slightest
resistance; seeing around me nothing but conviction and entire
persuasion, it then appeared to me that your power, and the state of
affairs, gained strength with a rapidity that I could not account for.
By pondering on the cause of this change, I at length made a great and
important discovery; namely, that matters had long stood thus, but that
I had neither known, nor been willing to perceive, it; I had hid my head
under the bushel, lest the light should reach my eyes. Now that I found
myself forced into the midst of its brightness, I was dazzled by it.
From that moment, all my prejudices fell to the ground; the film was
taken from my eyes.
“Being afterwards sent by your Majesty on a mission, and having
traversed more than sixty departments, I employed the most scrupulous
attention and the most perfect sincerity in ascertaining the truth of
which I had so long doubted. I interrogated the prefects, the inferior
authorities; I caused documents and registers to be produced to me; I
questioned private individuals without being known to them; I employed
all possible means of trying the truth of my conclusions, and I remained
fully convinced that the government was completely national, and founded
in the will of the people; that France had, at no period of her history,
been more powerful, more flourishing, better governed, or more happy;
the roads had never been better maintained; agriculture had increased by
a tenth, a ninth, perhaps an eighth in its productions.[4] A
restlessness, a general ardour animated all minds to exertion, and
inspired them to aim at a daily personal improvement. Indigo was gained;
sugar would inevitably be so. Never, at any period, had internal
commerce and industry of every species, been carried to such a pitch;
instead of four millions of livres in cotton, which were used at the
Revolution, more than thirty millions were now manufactured, although we
could obtain none by sea, and received it over-land from the distance of
Constantinople. Rouen was become quite a prodigy in production. The
taxes were everywhere paid; the Conscription was nationalized; France,
instead of being exhausted, contained a more numerous population than
before, and was daily increasing.
Footnote 4:
It is a singular fact that the person from whom I had this information
on agriculture, in Languedoc, was the identical M. de Villèle, who has
since become celebrated.
“When I again appeared amongst my former acquaintance with these data,
there was an absolute insurrection against me. They laughed in my face,
and almost hooted me. Yet there were some sensible people amongst them,
and I now possessed strong grounds of argument; I staggered many, and
convinced a few; thus I too have had my victories.”
The Emperor said it must be agreed that our being assembled at St.
Helena from political causes was certainly a most extraordinary
circumstance: that we had come to a common centre by roads originally
leading in very different directions. However, we had travelled through
them with sincerity. Nothing more clearly proved the sort of chance, the
uncertainty, and the fatality which usually, in the labyrinth of
revolutions, direct upright and honest hearts.
Nor can any thing more clearly prove, continued he, how necessary
indulgence and intelligent views are to recompose society after long
disorders. It was these dispositions and these principles which had made
him, he said, the most fit man for the circumstances of the month of
_Brumaire_; and it was those which still rendered him without doubt the
fittest in the actual state of France. On this point he had neither
mistrust, nor prejudice, nor passion; he had constantly employed men of
all classes, of all parties, without ever looking back, without
enquiring what they had done, what they had said, what they had thought;
only requiring, he said, that they should pursue in future and with
sincerity the common object—the welfare and the glory of all—that they
should shew themselves true and good Frenchmen. Above all, he had never
made overtures to leaders in order to gain over parties; but, on the
contrary, he had attacked the mass of the parties, that he might be in a
situation to despise their leaders. Such had ever been the uniform
system of his internal policy; and, in spite of the last events, he was
far from repenting it; if he had to begin again he should pursue the
same course. “It is totally without reason,” he said, “that I have been
reproached with employing nobles and emigrants—a perfectly trite and
vulgar imputation! The fact is that under me there only existed
individual opinions and sentiments. It is not the nobles and the
emigrants who have brought about the restoration, but rather the
restoration that has again raised the nobles and the emigrants. They
have not contributed more particularly to our ruin than others: those
really in fault are the intriguers of all parties and all opinions.
Fouché was not a noble; Talleyrand was not an emigrant; Augereau and
Marmont were neither. To conclude, do you desire a final proof of the
injustice of blaming whole classes, when a revolution like ours has
operated in the midst of them? Reckon yourselves here: among four, you
find two nobles, one of whom was even an emigrant. The excellent M. de
Ségur, in spite of his age, at my departure, offered to follow me. I
could multiply examples without end.—It is with as little reason,” he
continued, "that I have been blamed for having neglected certain persons
of influence; I was too powerful not to despise with impunity the
intrigues, and the known immorality, of the greater part of them. None
of these causes have therefore contributed to my downfall; but only
unforeseen and unheard-of catastrophes; compulsory circumstances;
500,000 men at the gates of the capital; a revolution still recent; a
crisis too powerful for French heads; and, above all, a dynasty not
sufficiently ancient. I should have risen again even from the foot of
the Pyrenees, could I but have been my own grandson.
"And, moreover, what a fascination there is respecting past times! It is
most certain that I was chosen by the French: their new worship was
their own work. Well! immediately upon the return of their old forms,
see with what facility they have returned to their idols.
"And, after all, how could another line of policy have prevented that
which ruined me? I have been betrayed by M—— whom I might call my son,
my offspring, my own work; him to whom I had committed my destinies, by
sending him to Paris, at the very moment that he was putting the
finishing hand to his treason and my ruin. I have been betrayed by
Murat, whom I had raised from a soldier to a king; who was my sister’s
husband. I have been betrayed by Berthier, a mere goose, whom I had
converted into a kind of eagle. I have been betrayed in the senate, by
those very men of the national party who owe every thing to me. All
that, then, did not in any way depend upon my system of internal policy.
Undoubtedly I should have been exposed to the charge of too readily
employing old enemies, whether nobles or emigrants, if a Macdonald, a
Valence,[5] a Montesquiou had betrayed me; but they were faithful: let
them object to me the stupidity of Murat, I can oppose to it the
intelligence of Marmont. I have, then, no cause to repent of my system
of internal policy."
Footnote 5:
One day at Longwood running over the list of the senators who had
signed the deposition, one of us pointed out the name of M. de
Valence, signed as secretary. But another explained that this
signature was false, that M. de Valence had complained of it, and
protested against it. “It is very true,” said the Emperor, “I know it;
he has behaved well; Valence was true to the nation.”
[Illustration:
_Map_
—of the—
ISLAND OF SAINT HELENA.
_Drawn for the
MEMORIAL DE SAINTE HÉLÈNE_,
_By an Engineer formerly of
Napoleon’s Cabinet from the information
contained in the work itself, and from
particulars furnished by
Mess^{rs}. Marchand, S^t Denis, Pierron,
and others in Napoleon’s service._
]