Nine months have already elapsed from the commencement of my Journal;
and I fear that, amid the heterogeneous matters that succeed without
order in it, I may have often lost sight of my principal, my only,
object—that which concerns Napoleon, and may serve to characterize him.
It is to make up for this, where necessary, that I here attempt a
summary in a few words; a summary which I propose, moreover, on the same
account, to repeat, in future, at intervals of three months.
On quitting France, we remained for a month at the disposal of the
brutal and ferocious English Ministry; then our passage to St. Helena
occupied three months.
On our landing we occupied Briars nearly two months.
Lastly, we have been three months at Longwood.
Now, these nine months would have formed four very distinct epochs, with
one who had taken the pains to observe Napoleon.
All the time of our stay at Plymouth, Napoleon remained thoughtful, and
merely passive, exerting no power but that of patience. His misfortunes
were so great, and so incapable of remedy, that he suffered events to
take their course with stoic indifference.
During the whole of our passage, he constantly possessed a perfect
equanimity, and, above all, the most complete indifference; he expressed
no wish, shewed no disappointment. It is true, the greatest respect was
paid him; he received it without perceiving it; he spoke little, and the
subject was always foreign to himself. Any one who, coming suddenly on
board, had witnessed his conversation, would undoubtedly have been far
from guessing with whom they were in company: it was not the Emperor. I
cannot better picture him in this situation than by comparing him to
those passengers of high distinction who are conveyed with great respect
to their destination.
Our abode at Briars presented another shade of difference. Napoleon,
left almost entirely to himself, receiving nobody, constantly employed,
seeming to forget events and men, enjoyed, apparently, the calm and the
peace of a profound solitude; either from abstraction or contempt, not
condescending to notice the inconveniences or privations with which he
was surrounded. If he now and then dropped an expression relative to
them, it was only when roused by the importunity of some Englishman, or
excited by the recital of the outrages suffered by his attendants. His
whole day was occupied in dictation; the rest of the time dedicated to
the relaxation of familiar conversation. He never mentioned the affairs
of Europe; spoke rarely of the Empire, very little of the Consulate; but
much of his situation as General in Italy; still more, and almost
constantly, of the minutest details of his childhood and his early
youth. The latter subjects, especially, seemed at this time to have a
peculiar charm for him. One would have said that they afforded him a
perfect oblivion; they excited him even to gaiety. It was almost
exclusively with these objects that he employed the many hours of his
nightly walks by moonlight.
Finally, our establishment at Longwood was a fourth and last change. All
our situations hitherto had been but short and transitory. This was
fixed, and threatened to be lasting. There, in reality, were to commence
our exile and our new destinies. History will take them up there; there
the eyes of the world were to be directed to consider us. The Emperor,
seeming to make this calculation, regulates all about him, and takes the
attitude of dignity oppressed by power; he traces around him a moral
boundary, behind which he defends himself, inch by inch, against
indignity and insult. He no longer gives way on any point to his
persecutors; he shews himself sensibly jealous in respect to forms, and
hostile to all encroachment. The English never doubted that habit would,
in the end, produce formality. The Emperor brings them to it from the
first day, and the most profound respect is manifested.
It was no small surprise to us, and no slight satisfaction to have to
observe among ourselves, that, without knowing how or why, it was
nevertheless perceptible that the Emperor now stood higher in the
opinion and the respect of the English than he had hitherto done: we
could even perceive that this sentiment was every day increasing. With
us the Emperor resumed entirely, in his conversations, the examination
of the affairs of Europe. He analyzed the projects and the conduct of
the Sovereigns: he compared them with his own; weighed, decided, spoke
of his reign, of his deeds; in a word, we once more found him the
Emperor, and _all_ Napoleon. Not that he had ever ceased to be so for an
instant, as regarded our devotion and our attentions; neither had we, on
our side, had any thing to endure from him in any respect.
Never did we experience a more even temper, a more constant kindness, a
more unaltered affection. It was, in fact, among us, as in the midst of
his family, that he concerted his attacks upon the common enemy; and
those which appear the most vigorous, and seem to be dictated by anger,
were, however, almost always accompanied with some laughter or
pleasantry.
The Emperor’s health, during the six months preceding our establishment
at Longwood, did not seem to undergo any change; though his regimen was
so completely altered. His hours, his food, were no longer the same; his
habits were completely deranged. He who had been accustomed to so much
exercise had been confined all this time to a room. Bathing had become
part of his existence, and he was constantly deprived of it. It was not
till after his arrival at Longwood, and when he was again supplied with
some of these things, when he rode on horseback, and returned to the use
of the bath, that we began to perceive a sensible alteration.
It is a singular circumstance that, so long as he was uncomfortably
situated he suffered nothing; it was not till he was better off that he
was seen to be in pain. May it not be that, in the moral as in the
physical system, there is often a long interval between causes and their
effects?
DESCRIPTION OF THE EMPEROR’S APARTMENTS.—MINUTE DETAILS OF HIS TOILET
AND DRESS.—ABSURD REPORTS RESPECTING HIM.—CONSPIRACIES OF GEORGES AND
CERACHI.—ATTEMPT OF THE FANATIC OF SCHÖNBRUNN.
April 1st—2nd. All that is in any way connected with the Emperor
Napoleon must be worthy of observation, and will be held valuable by
thousands. With this conviction, I shall proceed minutely to describe
his apartment, its furniture, the details of his toilet, &c. And, in
course of time, may not his son one day take pleasure in re-producing
these details, picturing to himself the appearance of distant objects,
and seizing fleeting shadows, which to him will perhaps supply the place
of reality?
The Emperor’s own apartments consist of two chambers _A_ and _B_,[6]
each 45 feet long and 42 broad, and about 7 feet high. A very
indifferent carpet covers the floor, and pieces of nankin, instead of
paper, line the walls of both rooms.
Footnote 6:
See the plan of Longwood.
The bed-chamber _A_ contains the little camp-bed _a_, in which the
Emperor sleeps, and the couch _b_, on which he reclines the greater part
of the day. This couch is covered with books, which seem to dispute with
the Emperor the right of possession to it. Beside this couch stands a
small table _c_, on which the Emperor breakfasts and dines, when he
takes his meals in his own chamber, and which, in the evening, bears a
candlestick with three branches, surmounted by a large ornament. Between
the two windows, and opposite to the door, stands a chest of drawers
_d_, containing the Emperor’s linen, and on the top of which is his
large dressing-case.
Over the fire-place _e_, hangs a very small glass, together with several
pictures. On the right is a portrait of the King of Rome sitting on a
sheep, by Aimée Thiebault—and on the left hangs, as a pendant to it,
another portrait of the young Prince, sitting on a cushion and putting
on a slipper. This picture is also the production of Thiebault. Lower
down is a small marble bust of the King of Rome. Two candlesticks, two
scent-bottles, and two cups of silver gilt, taken from the Emperor’s
cabinet, complete the arrangement and decoration of the chimney-piece.
Lastly, at the foot of the couch, and directly in view of the Emperor
when he reposes on it, which he does the greater part of the day, hangs
Isabey’s portrait of Maria Louisa, holding her son in her arms. This
wretched little closet has thus become a family sanctuary. I must not
omit to mention Frederick the Great’s large silver watch, which is a
sort of alarum. It was taken at Potsdam and it hangs on the left of the
chimney-piece, beyond the portraits. The Emperor’s own watch, which
hangs on the right of the chimney, is the same that he used in the
Campaigns of Italy; it is enclosed in a gold case, marked with his
cipher B:[7] These are the contents of the first chamber.
Footnote 7:
I have since learned that this watch, the faithful companion of his
wonderful achievements during the Campaigns in Italy and Egypt, has
passed into the hands of the Grand Marshal.—The Emperor complained
that his watch did not go, or that it went ill; and we had in vain
endeavoured to get it set to rights: when one day, looking at a watch
which General Bertrand had just received from the Cape, he said: “I
shall keep this and give you mine: it does not go now, but it struck
two on the _plateau_ of Rivoli, when I gave orders for the operations
of the day.”
In the second room _B_, which serves as a sort of study, along the walls
next the windows are several rough boards, supported by trestles, on
which are scattered a great number of books, and the manuscripts that
have been written from the Emperor’s dictation. Between the two windows
is a book-case _g_; and on the opposite side stands another
camp-bedstead _h_, similar to the one already mentioned. On this bed the
Emperor sometimes reposes in the day-time; and he occasionally lies down
on it, when he rises from the other bed during his frequent sleepless
nights, or when fatigued with dictating, or walking about alone in his
chamber. Lastly, in the middle of the room stands the writing-table _i_,
with marks indicating the places usually occupied by the Emperor and
each of us during his dictations.
The Emperor dresses in his bed-room. When he takes off his clothes,
which he does without assistance, he throws them all upon the floor if
one of his valets happens not to be at hand to take them from him. How
many times have I stooped to pick up the cordon of the Legion of Honour,
when I have seen it thrown carelessly on the ground!
Shaving, which is almost the last business of the Emperor’s toilet, is
not commenced until he has put on his stockings, shoes, &c. He shaves
himself: first taking off his shirt, and retaining only his flannel
waistcoat, which he had laid aside during the excessive heat we
experienced in crossing the Line, but which he was obliged to resume at
Longwood, in consequence of a severe attack of the cholic; from this,
however, the use of his flannel waistcoat speedily relieved him.
The Emperor shaves in the recess of the window nearest to the
fire-place. His first valet de chambre hands him the soap and razor: and
the second holds before him the looking-glass of his dressing-case, so
that the Emperor may turn to the light the side that he is shaving. It
is the business of the second valet de chambre to tell him whether or
not he shaves clean. Having shaved one side, he turns completely round
to shave the other, and the valets change sides.
The Emperor then washes his face, and very frequently his head, in a
large silver basin _f_, which is fixed in a corner of the room, and
which was brought from the Elysée. The Emperor is very lusty; his skin
is white, with but few hairs; and he has a certain plumpness which is
unusual in the male sex, and to which he sometimes jokingly alludes. He
rubs his chest and arms with a tolerably hard brush. He afterwards gives
the brush to his valet de chambre, who rubs his back and shoulders, and
when in good humour he often says, “Come, brush hard—as hard as if you
were scrubbing an ass.”
He used almost to drown himself in _eau de Cologne_, at least, so long
as he had any at his disposal: but his store of this article was
speedily exhausted, and as none could be procured on the island, he was
reduced to the necessity of using lavender water; the want of _eau de
Cologne_ he felt as a severe privation.
After he has had his back rubbed, or after he has finished shaving each
side of his beard, he sometimes good-humouredly looks his valet in the
face for a few seconds, and then gives him a smart box on the ear,
accompanied by some jocular expressions. This has been construed by
libelists and pamphleteers into the habit of cruelly beating those who
were about him. We all in our turns occasionally received a pinch or a
box on the ear; but from the expressions which always accompanied the
action, we thought ourselves very happy in receiving such favours during
the period of his power.
This calls to my recollection, and explains to me certain observations
which I once heard from the Duke Decrès, one of the Emperor’s ministers.
The Duke, when in the height of his glory and power, wished to obtain a
certain favour from the Emperor. He was conversing with me on the
subject, and after adverting to all his chances of success, he said: “I
shall have it after all, the first time I get roughly treated.” And,
remarking that my countenance expressed surprise, he added with a
significant smile: "But, my dear fellow, after all ’tis not so terrible
a thing as you imagine; many would be happy to receive such usage, I
assure you." ...
The Emperor does not leave his chamber until he is completely dressed.
He wears shoes in the morning, and does not put on his boots until he
rides out on horseback. When he first came to Longwood, he laid aside
his green uniform of the Guard, and wore a hunting coat the lace of
which had been taken off. This coat soon began to look shabby, and his
attendants were at a loss what to substitute for it. This, however, was
not the only inconvenience of the kind to which he was exposed. For
instance, we were much distressed to see him reduced to the necessity of
wearing one pair of silk stockings for several days in succession; but
he laughed whenever we expressed our regret on this subject, or remarked
that it was easy to count the number of days the stockings had been
worn, by the marks which the shoes had left on them. In other respects
he retained his usual dress; namely, waistcoat and small clothes of
white kerseymere, and a black cravat. When he was going out, any one of
the gentlemen who happened to be in the room handed to him his hat; that
little hat which has in some measure become identified with his person.
Several of the Emperor’s hats have been carried off since we have been
on the island; for every individual who approaches him is anxious to
obtain some token of remembrance of him. How often have we been
tormented even by persons of distinguished rank, to procure for them
even a button of his coat or any other trifle belonging to him.
I was almost always present at the Emperor’s toilet: sometimes I
remained after having finished my writing, and sometimes the Emperor
desired me to come and chat with him. One day I was looking steadfastly
at him as he put on his flannel waistcoat. My countenance I suppose
expressed something particular, for he said in his good humoured way of
addressing me: “Well, what does _your Excellency_ smile at? What are you
thinking of at this moment.”—"Sire, in a pamphlet which I lately read, I
found it stated that your Majesty was shielded by a coat of mail for the
security of your person. A report of the same kind was circulated among
certain classes in Paris; and in support of the assertion, allusion was
made to your Majesty’s sudden _embonpoint_, which was said to be quite
unnatural. I was just now thinking that I could bear positive evidence
to the contrary, and that at St. Helena, at least, all precautions for
personal safety have been laid aside."—"This is one of the thousand
absurdities that have been published respecting me," said he. "But the
story you have just mentioned is the more ridiculous, since every person
about me well knows how careless I am in regard to self-preservation.
Accustomed from the age of eighteen to be exposed to cannon-balls, and
knowing the inutility of precautions, I abandoned myself to my fate.
When I came to the head of affairs, I might still have fancied myself
surrounded by the danger of the field of battle: and I might have
regarded the conspiracies that were formed against me as so many
bomb-shells. But I followed my old course; I trusted to my lucky star;
and left all precautions to the police. I was perhaps the only sovereign
in Europe who dispensed with a body guard. Every one could freely
approach me without having, as it were, to pass through military
barracks; the sentinels at the outer gates being passed, all had free
access to every part of my palace. Maria Louisa was much astonished to
see me so poorly guarded; and she often remarked that her father was
surrounded by bayonets. For my part, I had no better defence at the
Tuileries than I have here: I don’t even know where to find my sword; do
you see it?" said he, looking about for it.... “I have, to be sure,” he
continued, "incurred great dangers. Upwards of thirty plots were formed
against me: these have been proved by authentic testimony, without
mentioning many that never came to light. Some sovereigns invent
conspiracies against themselves; for my part, I made it a rule carefully
to conceal them whenever I could. The crisis most serious to me was
during the interval between the battle of Marengo and the attempt of
Georges, and the affair of the Duke d’Enghien."
Napoleon related that about a week before the arrest of Georges, a
petition had been delivered into his own hands, on the parade, by one of
the most determined of the conspirators. Others insinuated themselves
among the household at St. Cloud or Malmaison; finally Georges himself
seems to have been so near his person as to have been in the same
apartment with him.
Independently of good luck, the Emperor attributes his safety, in a
great measure, to certain circumstances which were peculiar to himself.
That which had doubtless, he said, contributed to preserve him was his
having lived after his own fancy; without any regular habits or fixed
plan. His close occupations kept him much at home, and almost constantly
confined him to his closet. He never dined abroad, seldom visited the
theatres, and never appeared but at those times and places at which he
was not expected.
As we were descending to the garden after the Emperor had finished
dressing, he observed to me that the two designs on his life which had
placed him in the most imminent danger were those of Cerachi the
sculptor, and the fanatic of Schönbrunn. Cerachi, and some other
desperate wretches, had laid a plan for assassinating the First Consul.
They agreed to carry their design into execution at the moment of his
withdrawing from his box at the theatre. Napoleon, who received
intimation of the plot nevertheless proceeded to the theatre, and
fearlessly passed by the conspirators, who had shown themselves most
eager to occupy their respective stations. They were not arrested until
about the middle or near the close of the performance.
Cerachi, said the Emperor, had formerly adored the First Consul; but he
vowed to sacrifice him, when, as he pretended, he proved himself a
tyrant. This artist had been loaded with favours by General Bonaparte,
whose bust he had executed; and, when he entered into the plot against
his benefactor, he endeavoured by every possible means to procure
another sitting, under pretence of making an essential improvement on
the bust. Fortunately, at that time, the Consul had not a single
moment’s leisure, and, thinking that want was the real cause of the
urgent solicitations of the sculptor, he sent him six thousand francs.
But how was he mistaken! Cerachi’s real motive was to stab him during
the sitting.
The conspiracy was disclosed by a captain of the line, who was himself
an accomplice. “This,” said Napoleon, “was a proof of the strange
modifications of which the human mind is susceptible, and shows to what
lengths the combinations of folly and stupidity may be carried! This
officer regarded me with horror as First Consul, though he had adored me
as a General. He wished to see me driven from my post, but he rejected
the idea of any attempt upon my life. He wished that I should be
secured, but would not have me injured in any way; and he proposed that
I should be sent back to the army to face the enemy and defend the glory
of France. The rest of the conspirators laughed at these notions; but,
when he found that they were distributing poniards and going far beyond
his intentions, he then came and disclosed the whole to the Consul.”
As we were discoursing on this subject, some one present mentioned
having witnessed at the Theatre Feydeau, a circumstance which threw a
part of the audience into the greatest consternation. The Emperor
entered the Empress Josephine’s box, and had scarcely taken his seat,
when a young man hastily jumped upon the bench immediately below the
Box, and placed his hand on the Emperor’s breast. The spectators on the
opposite side were filled with alarm. Fortunately, however, the young
man was merely presenting a petition, which the Emperor received and
read with the utmost coolness.
The Emperor described the _Fanatic of Schönbrunn_, as the son of a
protestant minister of Erfurt, who, about the time of the battle of
Wagram, had laid a plan for the assassination of Napoleon, with all due
parade. He had passed the sentinels at some distance from the Emperor,
and had twice or thrice been driven back, when General Rapp, in the act
of pushing him aside with his hand, felt something concealed under his
coat. This proved to be a knife about a foot and a half long, pointed,
and sharp at both edges. “I shuddered to look at it,” said the Emperor;
“it was merely rolled up in a piece of newspaper.”
Napoleon ordered the assassin to be brought into his closet. He called
Corvisart, and directed him to feel the criminal’s pulse while he spoke
to him. The assassin stood unmoved, confessing his intended crime, and
frequently making quotations from the Bible. “What was your purpose
here?” enquired the Emperor. “To kill you.” “What have I done to offend
you? By whose authority do you constitute yourself my Judge?”—"I wish to
put an end to the war." “And why not address yourself to the Emperor
Francis?” “To him!” said the assassin, “and wherefore? he is a mere
cipher. And besides, if he were dead, another would succeed him; but,
when you are gone, the French will immediately retire from Germany.” The
Emperor vainly endeavoured to move him. “Do you repent?” said he. “No.”
“Would you again attempt the perpetration of your intended crime?”
“Yes.” “What, if I were to pardon you?” Here, said the Emperor, nature
for an instant resumed her sway; the man’s countenance and voice
underwent a momentary change. “Even though you do,” said he, “God will
not forgive me.” But he immediately resumed his ferocious expression. He
was kept in solitary confinement and without food for four-and-twenty
hours. The Doctor examined him once more. He was again questioned, but
all was unavailing; he still remained the same man, or, to speak more
properly, the same ferocious brute. He was at length abandoned to his
fate.
MEASURES THAT MIGHT HAVE BEEN ADOPTED AFTER
THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO.
3rd.—In the morning the Emperor dictated in the shady part of the
garden. The day was delightfully clear and serene. He had been reading
the account of Alexander’s expedition in Rollin’s History; and had
several maps spread out before him. He complained that the narrative was
destitute of taste, and without any proper plan. He observed that it
afforded no just idea of the grand views of Alexander; and he expressed
a wish himself to write an account of the expedition.
About five o’clock, I joined him in the garden, where he was walking,
attended by all the gentlemen. As soon as he perceived me, he said:
“Come, we must have your opinion on a point which we have been
discussing for the last hour. On my return from Waterloo, do you think I
could have dismissed the Legislative Body, and have saved France without
it?”—"No," I replied, “it would not have been dissolved voluntarily. You
would have found it necessary to employ force; which would have excited
protestations, and would have been regarded as scandalous. The
dissatisfaction excited in the Legislative Body would have spread
through the whole nation. Meanwhile the enemy would have arrived; and
your Majesty must have succumbed, accused by all Europe, accused by
foreigners, and even by Frenchmen; perhaps loaded with universal
maledictions, regarded merely as an adventurer carrying every thing by
violence. But as it was, your Majesty issued pure and unsullied from the
conflict, and your memory will be everlastingly cherished in the hearts
of those who respect the cause of the people. Your Majesty has, by your
moderation, ensured to yourself the brightest character in history,
while, by a different line of conduct, you might have incurred the risk
of reprobation. You have lost your power, it is true; but you have
attained the summit of your glory.”
“Well, this is partly my own opinion,” said the Emperor. "But after all,
am I certain that the French people will do me justice? Will they not
accuse me of having abandoned them? History will decide! Instead of
dreading, I invoke, its decree!—I have often asked myself whether I have
done for the French people all that they could expect of me; for that
people did much for me. Will they ever know all that I suffered during
the night that preceded my final decision?
"In that night of anguish and uncertainty, I had to choose between two
great courses: the one was to endeavour to save France by violence; and
the other was to yield to the general impulse. The measure which I
pursued was, I think, most advisable. Friends and enemies, the good and
the evil disposed, all were against me, and I stood alone. I could not
but yield, and my decision being once adopted, could not be revoked. I
am not one who takes half measures; and, besides, sovereignty is not to
be thrown off and on like one’s cloak. The other course demanded
extraordinary severity. It would have been necessary to arraign great
criminals and to decree great punishments. Blood must have been shed;
and then who can tell where we should have stopped! What scenes of
horror might not have been renewed! By pursuing this line of conduct,
should I not have drowned my memory in the deluge of blood, crimes, and
abominations of every kind, with which libellers have already
overwhelmed me? Should I not thereby have seemed to justify all that
they have been pleased to invent? Posterity and History would have
viewed me as a second Nero or Tiberius. If, after all, I could have
saved France at such a price!... I had energy sufficient to carry me
through every difficulty!... But, is it certain that I should have
succeeded? All our dangers did not come from without; the worst existed
in our internal discord. Did not a party of mad fools dispute about
shades, before they had ensured the triumph of the colour? How would it
have been possible to persuade them that I was not labouring for myself
alone, for my own personal advantage? How could I convince them of my
disinterestedness, or prove that all my efforts were directed to save
the country? To whom could I point out the dangers and miseries from
which I sought to rescue the French people? They were evident to me, but
the vulgar mass will ever remain in ignorance of them until they are
crushed beneath their weight.
“What answer could be given to those who exclaimed: Behold the despot,
the tyrant! again violating the oaths which he took but yesterday! and
who knows whether amidst this tumult, this inextricable complication of
difficulties, I might not have perished by the hand of a Frenchman, in
the civil conflict! Then how would France have appeared in the eyes of
the universe, in the estimation of future generations? The glory of
France is to identify herself with me. I could not have achieved so many
great deeds for her honour and glory without the nation, and in spite of
the nation. France was inclined to elevate me to too high a point!... As
I said before, History will decide!...”
He then adverted to the plan and details of the Campaign, dwelling with
pleasure on its glorious commencement, and with regret on the terrible
disaster that marked its close.
“Still,” continued he, "I should have considered the state of affairs as
by no means desperate, had I obtained the aid I expected. All our
resources rested in the Chambers. I hastened to convince them of this;
but they immediately rose against me, under pretence that I was come to
dissolve them. What an absurdity! From that moment all was lost.[8]
Footnote 8:
Time, which explains all things, has shewn the little springs which
brought about one of our greatest catastrophes. I received the
following particulars from one who acted a part in the events of the
day:—
On hearing that Napoleon had arrived at the Elysée from Waterloo,
Fouché flew to the dissatisfied and suspicious Members of the Chambers
exclaiming, “To arms! He has returned desperate, and is about to
dissolve the Chambers and seize the dictatorship. We cannot endure the
restoration of tyranny.” He then hastened to the best friends of
Napoleon. “Are you aware,” said he, “what a terrible fermentation has
risen up against the Emperor among certain deputies? We can only save
Napoleon by facing them boldly, by showing them the full power of our
party, and how easily the Chambers may be dissolved.”
The friends of Napoleon, easily duped in this sudden crisis, failed
not to follow, perhaps even to overstep, the suggestions of Fouché,
who now returned to the distrustful party and said, “You see his best
friends are agreed on this point: the danger is urgent: and in a few
hours there will be no remedy. The Chambers will be no more, and we
shall be very culpable in letting slip the only opportunity of
opposing him.” Thus the permanence of the Chambers, the forced
abdication of the Emperor, and the downfall of a great empire, were
brought about by petty intrigue, by ante-chamber report and gossip.
Ah, Fouché! how well the Emperor knew you, when he said, that your
ugly foot was sure to be thrust into every body’s shoes.
“It would perhaps be unjust,” added the Emperor, "to accuse the majority
of the Members of the Chambers; but such is the nature of all numerous
bodies that they must perish, if disunited. Like armies, they must have
leaders. The chiefs of armies are appointed; but, in constituted bodies,
men of eminent talent and genius rise up and rule them. We wanted all
this, and, therefore, in spite of the good spirit which might have
animated the majority, all were, in an instant, plunged into confusion
and tumult. The Legislative Body had perfidy and corruption stationed at
its doors, while incapacity, disorder, and perversity prevailed in its
bosom; and thus France became the prey of foreigners.
"For a moment, I entertained the idea of resistance. I was on the point
of declaring myself permanently at the Tuileries, along with my
Ministers and Councillors of State. I had thoughts of rallying round me
the six thousand guards who were in Paris, augmenting them with the best
disposed portion of the National Guard, who were very numerous, and the
federate troops of the Faubourgs; of adjourning the Legislative Body to
Tours or Blois; re-organizing before the walls of Paris, the wrecks of
the army, and thus exerting my efforts singly, as a Dictator, for the
welfare of the country. But would the Legislative Body have obeyed? I
might have enforced obedience, it is true; but this would have been a
new cause of scandal, and a fresh source of difficulties. Would the
people have made common cause with me? Would even the army have
continued constantly faithful to me? In the succession of events, might
not both the people and the army have been separated from me? Might not
plans have been arranged to my prejudice? The idea that so many dangers
were caused by me alone might have served as a plausible pretext, and
the facilities which every one had experienced during the preceding year
in gaining favour with the Bourbons, might to many have become decisive
inducements.
“Yes,” continued the Emperor, "I hesitated long, I weighed every
argument on both sides; and I at length concluded that I could not make
head against the coalition without and the royalists within: that I
should be unable to oppose the numerous sects which would have been
created by the violence committed on the Legislative Body, to control
that portion of the multitude which must be driven by force, or to
resist that moral condemnation which imputes to him who is unfortunate
every evil that ensues. Abdication was therefore absolutely the only
step I could adopt. All was lost in spite of me. I foresaw and foretold
this: but still I had no other alternative.
“The Allies always pursued the same system against me. They began it at
Prague, continued it at Frankfort, at Chatillon, at Paris, and at
Fontainbleau. Their conduct displayed considerable judgment. The French
might have been duped in 1814; but it is difficult to conceive how they
could have been deceived in 1815. History will for ever tarnish the
memory of those who suffered themselves to be misled. I foretold their
fate when I was departing to join the army: _Let us not resemble_, I
said, _the Greeks of the Lower Empire, who amused themselves in debating
while the battering-ram was levelling the walls of their city_. And,
when forced to abdicate, I said, _Our enemies wish to separate me from
the army; when they shall have succeeded, they will separate the army
from you. You will then be merely a wretched flock, the prey of wild
beasts._”
We asked the Emperor whether he thought that, with the concurrence of
the Legislative Body, he could have saved France? He replied, without
hesitation, that he would confidently have undertaken to do so, and that
he would have answered for his success.
“In less than a fortnight,” continued he, "that is to say, before any
considerable mass of the allied force could have assembled before Paris,
I should have completed my fortifications, and have collected before the
walls of the city, and out of the wrecks of the army, upwards of eighty
thousand good troops, and three hundred pieces of horse artillery. After
a few days’ firing, the national guard, the federal troops, and the
inhabitants of Paris, would have sufficed to defend the entrenchments. I
should have had eighty thousand disposable troops at my command. It is
well known how advantageously I was capable of employing this force.—The
achievements of 1814 were still fresh in remembrance. Champaubert,
Montmirail, Craon, Montereau, were still present in the imagination of
our enemies; the same scenes would have revived the recollection of the
prodigies of the preceding year. I was then surnamed the _hundred
thousand men_.
"The rapidity and decision of our successes gave rise to this name. The
conduct of the French troops was most admirable. Never did a handful of
brave men accomplish so many miracles. If their high achievements have
never been publicly known, owing to the circumstances which attended our
disasters, they have at least been duly appreciated by our enemies, who
counted the number of our attacks by our victories. We were truly the
heroes of fable!
“Paris,” said he, "would in a few days have become impregnable. The
appeal to the nation, the magnitude of the danger, the excitement of the
public mind, the grandeur of the spectacle, would have drawn multitudes
to the capital. I could undoubtedly have assembled upwards of four
hundred thousand men, and I imagine the allied force did not exceed five
hundred thousand. Thus the affair would have been brought to a single
combat, in which the enemy would have had as much to fear as ourselves.
He would have hesitated, and thus I should have regained the confidence
of the majority.
“Meanwhile I should have surrounded myself with a national senate or
junta selected from among the members of the Legislative Body—men
distinguished by national names, and worthy of general confidence. I
should have fortified my military Dictatorship with all the strength of
civil opinion. I should have had my tribune, which would have
promulgated the talisman of my principles through Europe. The Sovereigns
would have trembled to behold the contagion spread among their subjects.
They must have treated with me, or have surrendered....”
“But, Sire,” we exclaimed, “why did you not attempt what would
infallibly have succeeded?—Why are we here?”
“Now,” resumed the Emperor, “you are blaming and condemning me! But, if
you were to take a view of the contrary chances, you would change your
tone. Besides, you forget that we reasoned on the hypothesis that the
Legislative Body would have joined me; but you know what line of conduct
it pursued. I might have dissolved it, to be sure. France and Europe
perhaps blame me, and posterity will doubtless censure my weakness, in
not breaking up the Legislative Body after its insurrection. It will be
said, that I ought not to have separated myself from the destinies of a
people who had done all for me. But by dissolving the Assembly, I could
at most have obtained only a capitulation from the enemy. In that case,
I again repeat, blood must have been shed, and I must have proved myself
a tyrant. I had however arranged a plan on the night of the 20th, and on
the 21st measures of the most rigid severity were to have been adopted;
but before the return of day, the dictates of humanity and prudence
warned me that such a course was not to be thought of, that I should
miss my aim, and that every one was merely seeking blindly to
accommodate himself to circumstances. But I must not begin again. I have
already said too much on a subject which always revives painful
recollections. I repeat once more that History will decide.”—The Emperor
returned to his chamber desiring me to follow him. . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . .
4th. At 5 o’clock I went to meet the Emperor in the garden. He had taken
too warm a bath, and in consequence found himself ill. We rode out in
the calash, the weather was delightful: for several days it had been
very warm and dry. Before dinner the Emperor dictated to the Grand
Marshal. Madame Bertrand dined at the Admiral’s. The Emperor withdrew to
his chamber immediately after dinner.