4th.—The Emperor still remained within doors. He had, however, expressed
his intention to ride on horseback about four o’clock; but the rain
prevented him from stirring out. He received the Grand Marshal in his
chamber.
He sent for me about eight o’clock to dine with him. He said that the
Governor had called on the Grand Marshal, and had remained with him
above an hour. His conversation had been frequently disagreeable and
sometimes even offensive. He had spoken on a variety of topics in a tone
of ill-humour and disrespect, and in a very vague and indeterminate
manner: reproaching us, particularly, as it appeared, with being very
loud and unreasonable in our complaints. He maintained that we were very
well provided for and ought to be content; that we seemed to be
strangely mistaken with regard to what was due to our persons and our
situations. He added, at least so he was understood, that he was
desirous of being assured every day, by ocular testimony, of the
existence and presence of the Emperor.
There is no doubt that this point was the real cause of his ill-humour
and agitation. Several days had passed without his having been able to
receive any report from his officer or spies, as the Emperor had not
gone out, and no one had been admitted to his presence.
But what measures would he adopt? This consideration occupied us all in
our turns. The Emperor would never submit, even at the peril of his
life, to a regular visit, which might be capriciously renewed at any
hour of the day or night. Would the Governor employ force and violence
to dispute with the Emperor a last asylum of a few square feet and a few
hours’ repose? His instructions must have been drawn up in anticipation
of the case that had now occurred. No outrage, no want of respect, no
barbarity, could surprise me.
As to the Governor’s remark that we entertained mistaken ideas with
regard to ourselves and our situation, we are very conscious that,
instead of being at the Tuileries, we are at St. Helena, and that,
instead of being masters, we are captives: how then can we be mistaken?
ON CHINA AND RUSSIA.—RESEMBLANCE BETWEEN THE
TWO GREAT REVOLUTIONS IN FRANCE AND ENGLAND.
5th.—About ten o’clock in the morning, the Emperor went to ride for the
first time. While he was mounting his horse, he was informed that the
Resident of the East India Company in China had come to Longwood, and
solicited the honour of being presented to him. He sent for him, and put
some questions to him with great condescension. We then rode out to call
on Madame Bertrand. The Emperor remained there above an hour; he was
weak and altered in his appearance: his conversation was languid. We
returned to Longwood. The Emperor wished to breakfast out of doors.
He sent for our host at Briars, the worthy Mr. Balcombe, and the
Resident from China, who was still at Longwood. The whole time of
breakfast was occupied in questions relating to China, its population,
laws, customs, and trade.
The Resident stated that a circumstance occurred a few years back
between the Russians and the Chinese, which might have been attended
with important results, had not Russia been entirely absorbed by the
affairs of Europe.
The Russian traveller, Krusenstern, in his voyage round the world,
anchored at Canton with his two vessels. He was received provisionally,
and was permitted, until the orders of the Court should arrive, to
dispose of the furs with which his ships were laden, and to take on
board a cargo of tea in their stead. The orders from the Chinese court
were delayed for more than a month, and M. de Krusenstern had set sail
two days before they arrived. They directed that the two vessels should
quit the port immediately: that all trade with the Russians in that
quarter was prohibited; that enough had been conceded to their Emperor
by land in the North of the Empire; that it was monstrous in him to
attempt to extend his intercourse in the South by sea; and that strong
displeasure would he manifested towards those who had suggested to them
that course. The order further decreed that, in the event of the ships
having sailed before the arrival of the answer from Pekin, the English
Factory should be charged to communicate it, through Europe, to the
Emperor of Russia.
Napoleon felt very much fatigued with his short ride; he had not left
his chamber for seven days before; this was the first time that he had
re-appeared among us. We remarked an evident change in his countenance.
He sent for me about five o’clock; the Grand Marshal was with him. The
Emperor was undressed; he had tried in vain to enjoy a little rest; he
thought he was feverish; the sensation proceeded from extreme lassitude.
The Emperor had a fire lighted, but would not have candles in his room.
We passed the time in desultory conversation in the dark, till eight
o’clock, when the Emperor sent us to dinner.
In the course of the day, the conversation had turned on the similarity
of the two great revolutions of England and France. “There are many
points, both of resemblance and difference, between these two great
events,” said the Emperor; “they afford inexhaustible subjects for
reflection.” He then made some very curious and remarkable observations.
I shall here note down his remarks on this occasion, as well as at other
intervals during the day.
"Both in France and England the storm gathered during the two feeble and
indolent reigns of James I. and Louis XV., and burst over the heads of
the unfortunate Charles I. and Louis XVI.
"Both these Sovereigns fell victims: both perished on the scaffold, and
their families were proscribed and banished.
"Both monarchies became republics, and, during that period, both nations
plunged into every excess which can degrade the human heart and
understanding. They were disgraced by scenes of madness, blood, and
outrage. Every tie of humanity was broken, and every principle
overturned.
"Both in England and France, at this period, two men vigorously stemmed
the torrent, and reigned with splendour. After these, the two hereditary
families were restored; but both pursued an erroneous course. They
committed faults; a fresh storm suddenly burst forth in both countries,
and expelled the two restored dynasties, without their being able to
offer the least resistance to the adversaries who overthrew them.
"In this singular parallel, Napoleon appears to have been in France at
once the Cromwell and the Wm. III. of England. But as every comparison
with Cromwell is in some degree odious, I must add that, if these two
celebrated men coincided in one single circumstance of their lives, it
was scarcely possible for two beings to differ more in every other
point.
"Cromwell appeared on the theatre of the world at the age of maturity.
He attained supreme rank only by dint of address, duplicity, and
hypocrisy.
"Napoleon distinguished himself at the very dawn of manhood, and his
first steps were attended by the purest glory.
"Cromwell attained supreme power, opposed and hated by all parties, and
by affixing an everlasting stain on the English revolution.
"Napoleon, on the contrary, ascended the throne by obliterating the
stains of the French revolution, and through the concurrence of all
parties, who in turn sought to gain him as their chief.
"All the glory of Cromwell was bought by English blood; his triumphs
were all so many causes of national mourning; but Napoleon’s victories
were gained over the foreign foe, and they filled the French nation with
transport.
"Finally, the death of Cromwell was a source of joy to all England: the
event was regarded as a public deliverance. The same cannot exactly be
said of Napoleon’s fall.
"In England the revolution was the rising of the whole nation against
the King. The King had violated the laws, and usurped absolute power;
and the nation wished to resume her rights.
"In France, the revolution was the rising of one portion of the nation
against another; that of the third estate against the nobility; it was
the re-action of the Gauls against the Franks. The King was attacked not
so much in his character of monarch as in his quality of chief of the
feudal system. He was not reproached with having violated the laws; but
the nation wished to emancipate and re-constitute itself.
"In England, if Charles I. had yielded voluntarily, if he had possessed
the moderate and undecided character of Louis XVI. he would have
survived.
"In France, on the contrary, if Louis XVI. had openly resisted, if he
had had the courage, activity, and ardour of Charles I. he would have
triumphed.
"During the whole conflict, Charles I., isolated in his kingdom, was
surrounded only by partisans and friends, and was never connected with
any constitutional branch of his subjects.
"Louis XVI. was supported by a regular army, by foreign aid, and two
constitutional portions of the nation—the nobility and the clergy.
Besides, there remained to Louis XVI. a second decisive resolution,
which Charles I. had it not in his power to adopt, namely, that of
ceasing to be a _feudal Chief_, in order to become a _national Chief_.
Unfortunately he could not decide on either the one or the other.
"Charles I. therefore perished because he resisted, and Louis XVI.
because he did not resist. The one had a perfect conviction of the
privileges of his prerogative; but it is doubtful whether the other had
any such conviction, any more than he felt the necessity of exercising
its privileges.
"In England, the death of Charles I. was the result of the artful and
atrocious ambition of a single man.
"In France, it was the work of the blind multitude, of a disorderly
popular assembly.
"In England, the representatives of the people evinced a slight shade of
decorum, by abstaining from being the judges and actors in the murder
which they decreed; they appointed a tribunal to try the King.
"In France, the representatives of the people presumed to be at once
accusers, judges, and executioners.
"In England, the affair was managed by an invisible hand: it assumed an
appearance of reflection and calmness. In France, it was managed by the
multitude, whose fury was without bounds.
"In England, the death of the King gave birth to the Republic. In
France, on the contrary, the birth of the Republic caused the death of
the King.
"In England the political explosion was produced by the efforts of the
most ardent religious fanaticism. In France, it was brought about amidst
the acclamations of cynical impiety; each according to different ages
and manners.
"The English Revolution was ushered in by the excesses of the gloomy
school of Calvin. The loose doctrines of the modern school conjured up
the storm in France.
"In England, the Revolution was mingled with civil war. In France, it
was attended by foreign war; and to the efforts and opposition of
foreigners the French may justly attribute their excesses. The English
can advance no such excuse for theirs.
"In England, the army proved itself capable of every act of outrage and
fury; it was the scourge of the citizens.
"In France, on the contrary, we owed every benefit to the army. Its
triumphs abroad either diminished, or caused us to forget, our horrors
at home. The army secured independence and glory to France.
"In England, the Restoration was the work of the English people, who
hailed the event with the most lively enthusiasm. The nation escaped
slavery, and seemed to have recovered freedom. It was not precisely thus
in France.
"In England, a son-in-law hurled his father-in-law from the throne. He
was supported by all Europe; and the memory of the act is revered and
imperishable.
“In France, on the contrary, the chosen sovereign of the people, who had
reigned for the space of fifteen years, with the assent of his subjects
and foreigners, re-appeared on the theatre of the world, to seize a
sceptre which he regarded as his own. Europe rose in a mass, and
outlawed him. Eleven hundred thousand men marched against him; he
yielded; he was thrown into captivity, and now efforts are making to
tarnish the lustre of his memory!”
EXPLANATION WITH DR. O’MEARA.—THE CONSULATE.—OPINION OF THE EMIGRANTS
RESPECTING THE CONSUL.—THE EMPEROR’S INTENTIONS WITH REGARD TO
EMIGRANT PROPERTY.—CONCURRENCE OF FORTUNATE CIRCUMSTANCES IN THE
EMPEROR’S CAREER.—OPINION OF THE ITALIANS RESPECTING NAPOLEON.—HIS
CORONATION BY THE POPE.—EFFECT OF THE CONFERENCES AT TILSIT.—THE
SPANISH BOURBONS.—ARRIVAL OF THE FAMOUS WOODEN PALACE.
6th.—The Emperor sent for me at nine o’clock. He was vexed at the
conduct of the new Governor, and particularly at the intention that
seemed to be entertained of violating his last humble sanctuary. He
preferred death to this last outrage; and he was resolved to run every
risk in opposing it. A catastrophe seemed inevitable. The Emperor indeed
concluded that there was a determination to bring it about, and that
only some plausible pretence was sought for. He was resolved not to
evade it. “I am prepared for every thing,” said he, in a certain moment
of confidence. “They will kill me here, it is certain....”
The Emperor sent for Dr. O’Meara, in order that he might learn his
personal opinion. He desired me to express to him, in English, that he
had hitherto no cause of complaint against him: on the contrary, that he
considered him to be an honest man, and as a proof of this, he would
rely implicitly on the answers he might receive to the questions which
he was about to put to him. It was necessary, he said, to come to an
understanding. Was he to consider him as his own physician personally,
or merely as a prison doctor, appointed by the English Government? Was
he his confessor or his inspector? Had he made reports respecting him,
or was it his intention so to do, if called upon? In the one case, the
Emperor said he would readily continue to receive his attendance, and
was grateful for the services he had already received; in the other
case, he thanked him and begged him to discontinue his visits.
The doctor replied with great firmness, and in a tone of feeling. He
said that his appointment was entirely professional, and had no
connection with politics; he conceived himself to be the Emperor’s
personal medical attendant, and was a stranger to every other
consideration; that he had made no report respecting the Emperor, and
that none had yet been demanded of him; that he could not imagine any
circumstance which should induce him to make a report, except in case of
serious illness, when it might be necessary to call in the aid of other
professional men.
About three o’clock, the Emperor went into the garden with the intention
of mounting his horse. He had been dictating for a considerable time to
General Gourgaud, and had nearly got through the events of 1815. He was
very well satisfied with the result of his labour.
I recommended to him next to commence the history of the Consulate; that
brilliant period in which a nation in a state of dissolution was in a
few moments magically re-composed, with respect to its laws, religion,
morality, true principles, and honest prejudices; and all this amidst
the universal applause and admiration of astonished Europe.
I was in England at this time. I told the Emperor that the mass of the
emigrants were forcibly struck by these acts. The recal of the priests
and of the emigrants was received as a blessing; and the great majority
profited by it.
The Emperor asked me whether we had not been shocked at the word
amnesty?—"No," I replied, “we knew all the difficulties which the First
Consul had experienced in this respect. We knew that all the advantages
of the measure were due to him, that he alone was our protector, and
that every evil originated with those with whom he had been obliged to
contend in our favour. Subsequently,” added I, “on our return to France,
we found indeed that the Consul might have treated us better with
respect to our property, and this without much difficulty, merely by
assuming a silent and passive attitude. This we conceived would have
sufficed in every case to have produced amicable arrangements between
the old proprietors and the purchasers.”
“Doubtless, I might have done so,” said the Emperor, “but could I have
trusted sufficiently to the emigrants?—Answer me this question.”
“Sire,” I replied, “now that I have more knowledge of public affairs,
and take a more comprehensive view of things, I can readily conceive
that policy required you to act as you did. Recent circumstances have
proved how wise was the course which you pursued. It would have been bad
policy to have dissatisfied the nation. The question of national
property is one of the first bulwarks of public spirit and of the
national party.”
“You are right,” observed the Emperor; "but I might nevertheless have
granted all that was wished. For a moment I cherished the idea of doing
so, and I committed a fault in not fulfilling this idea. I intended to
form a mass, or a _syndicate_, of all the unsold property of the
emigrants, and, on their return, to distribute it in a proportional
ratio among them. But when I came to grant property to individuals, I
soon found that I was creating too many wealthy men, and that they
repaid my favours with insolence. Those who, by dint of petitioning and
cringing, had perhaps obtained an annual income of 50 or 100,000 crowns,
no longer lifted their hats to me; and far from evincing the least
gratitude, they had the impertinence to pretend that they had paid
secretly for the favours they enjoyed. This was the conduct of the whole
Faubourg Saint-Germain. I restored the fortunes of these people, and
they still remained no less hostile and anti-national. Then, in spite of
the act of amnesty, I prohibited the restitution of the unsold forests,
whenever they should exceed a certain value. This was doubtless an act
of injustice, according to the letter of the law; but policy
imperatively called for it: the fault was in the drawing up of the law,
and the improvidence which dictated it. This re-action on my part,
destroyed all the good effect of the recal of the emigrants, and robbed
me of the attachment of all the great families. I might have guarded
against this evil, or I might have neutralized its effects by my
syndicate. For one great family alienated, I might have secured the
attachment of a hundred provincial nobles, and thus I should in reality
have strictly conformed with justice, which required that the emigrants,
who had all run the same risk, embarked their fortunes in common on
board the same ship, suffered the same wreck, and incurred the same
punishment, should all receive the same indemnification. Here I
committed an error,” said the Emperor, “which the more unpardonable as I
entertained an idea of the plan which I have just mentioned. But I stood
alone, and was surrounded by opposition and difficulty. All parties were
hostile to the emigrants: and meanwhile I was pressed by important
affairs, time was running on, and I was compelled to direct my attention
to other matters.
“Even so late as my return from Elba,” continued the Emperor, “I was on
the point of executing a project of the same sort. If I had had time, I
should have turned my attention to the poor emigrants from the provinces
who were neglected by the Court. It is rather a singular circumstance
that this idea was suggested to me by an old ex-minister of Louis XVI.,
whose services had been but ill requited by the Princes, and who pointed
out to me various plans by which evils of the same kind might have been
advantageously remedied.”
“Sire,” observed I, “the reasonable portion of the emigrants well knew
that the few generous and liberal ideas that were cherished with respect
to them originated only with you; they were aware that all who
surrounded you wished for their destruction. They knew that the very
idea of nobility was hateful to them; and they gave you credit for not
being of that opinion. Would you believe it, their self-love
occasionally found a certain degree of consolation in the reflection
that you were one of their own class?”
The Emperor then asked me what was the opinion of the emigrants
respecting his birth, the incidents of his life, &c. I replied that we
beheld him for the first time at the head of the army of Italy; and that
we were totally ignorant of all his previous history. We never could
call him _de Buonaparte_. At this the Emperor laughed. The turn of our
conversation then led him to observe that he had frequently reflected on
the singular concurrence of secondary circumstances which had brought
about his wonderful career.
1st, “If,” said he, “my father, who died before he attained the age of
forty, had survived some time longer, he would have been appointed
deputy from the Corsican nobility to the Constituent Assembly. He was
much attached to the nobility and the aristocracy; on the other hand, he
was a warm partisan of generous and liberal ideas. He would, therefore,
either have been entirely on the right side, or at least in the minority
of the nobility. At any rate, whatever might have been my own personal
opinions, I should have followed my father’s footsteps, and thus my
career would have been entirely deranged and lost.
2ndly, “If I had been older at the time of the revolution, I should
perhaps myself have been appointed deputy. Being of an enthusiastic
disposition, I should infallibly have adopted some opinion, and ardently
followed it up. But at all events I should have shut myself out from the
military service, and thus again my career would have been changed.
3rdly, “Had my family been better known, more wealthy, or more
distinguished, my rank of nobility, even though I had followed the
course of the revolution, would have made a cipher of me and proscribed
me. I could never have obtained confidence; I could never have commanded
an army; or, if I had attained such a command, I could not have ventured
to do all that I did. Had my family circumstances been different from
what they actually were, I could not, with all my success, have followed
the bent of my liberal ideas with regard to the priests and nobles, and
I should never have arrived at the head of the Government.
4thly, “The number of my sisters and brothers is also a circumstance
which proved of great use to me, by multiplying my connections and means
of influence.
5thly, “My marriage with Madame de Beauharnois brought me in contact
with a party, whose aid was necessary in my system of amalgamations,
which was one of the chief principles of my government, and that by
which it was especially characterized. But for my wife, I should not
have obtained any natural connection with this party.
6thly, “Even my foreign origin, though in France an endeavour was made
to raise an outcry against it, was not unattended by advantage. The
Italians regarded me as their countryman, and this circumstance greatly
facilitated my success in Italy. This success being once obtained,
inquiries were set on foot respecting our family history, which had long
been buried in obscurity. My family was acknowledged by the Italians to
have acted a distinguished part in the events of their country. It was
viewed by them as an Italian family. Thus when the question of my sister
Pauline’s marriage with the Prince Borghese was agitated, there was but
one voice in Rome and Tuscany among the members of that family and their
adherents: ‘Well,’ said they, ‘the union is among ourselves; they are
our own connections.’ Subsequently, when it was proposed that the
Emperor should be crowned by the Pope at Paris, great obstacles were, as
circumstances have since proved, thrown in the way of that important
event. The Austrian party in the conclave violently opposed the measure;
but the Italian party decided in its favour, by adding to political
considerations a little consideration of national self-love. ‘We are
placing,’ said they, ‘an Italian family on the throne, to govern these
barbarians: we shall thus be revenged on the Gauls.’”
These remarks naturally led the Emperor to speak of the Pope, who he
said was rather favourably disposed towards him. The Pope did not accuse
Napoleon of having ordered his removal to France. He was very indignant
at reading in certain publications that the Emperor treated him with
disrespect. He had received at Fontainebleau every mark of consideration
that he could wish. When he learned the Emperor’s return from Elba to
France, he said to Lucien, in a tone expressive of his confidence and
impartiality, _’E sbarcato e arrivato_ (he has landed, he has arrived.)
He afterwards said: “You are going to Paris; make my peace with him. I
am in Rome; no cause of difference shall arise between us.”
“It is certain,” said the Emperor, “that Rome will afford a natural and
favourable asylum for my family: there they may find themselves at home.
Finally,” added he, smiling, “even my name, Napoleon, which in Italy is
uncommon, poetic, and sonorous, contributed its share in the great
circumstances of my life.”
I mentioned to the Emperor, what I had already remarked, namely, that
the great mass of the emigrants were far from being unjust to him. The
sensible part of the old aristocracy disliked him, it is true, but only
because he proved an obstacle to their views. They knew how to
appreciate his achievements and his talents, which they admired in spite
of their inclination. Even the fanatics acknowledged that he had but one
fault: “Why is he not legitimate?” they were frequently heard to say.
Austerlitz staggered us, though it did not subdue us; but Tilsit
prostrated every thing. “Your Majesty,” said I, “might yourself have
judged of this, and have enjoyed on your return the unanimity of homage,
acclamation, and good wishes.”
“That is to say,” observed the Emperor, smiling, “if, at that time, I
could or would have indulged in repose and pleasure; if I had resigned
myself to indolence, if every thing had resumed its old course, you
would have adored me? But if such had been my taste and inclination, and
certainly nothing was more opposite to my natural disposition,
circumstances would not have permitted me to act as I pleased.”
The Emperor then adverted to the numerous difficulties by which he had
been incessantly surrounded and controlled; and, alluding to the Spanish
war, he said, “That unlucky war ruined me; it divided my forces, obliged
me to multiply my efforts, and caused my principles to be assailed: and
yet it was impossible to leave the Peninsula a prey to the machinations
of the English, the intrigues, the hopes, and the pretensions of the
Bourbons. Besides, the Spanish Bourbons were not calculated to inspire
much fear. Nationally they were foreign to us, and we to them. At the
castle of Marrach, and at the Bayonne, I observed that Charles IV. the
Queen knew no difference between Madame de Montmorency and the new
ladies: the names of the latter were indeed rendered more familiar to
them by the newspapers and public documents. The Empress Josephine, who
had the most delicate tact on matters of this sort, never ceased
alluding to the circumstance. The Spanish Royal Family implored me to
adopt a daughter, and to create her a Princess of the Asturias. They
pointed out Mademoiselle de Tascher, afterwards Duchess of Aremberg; but
I had personal reasons for objecting to this choice. For a moment I
decided on Mademoiselle de la Rochefoucault, afterwards Princess
Aldobrandini; but I wanted some one sincerely devoted to my interests, a
true Frenchwoman, possessing talent and information, and I could not fix
on one endowed with all the qualities I wished for.”
Then returning to the war in Spain, the Emperor resumed:—"This
combination ruined me. All the circumstances of my disasters are
connected with that fatal knot: it destroyed my moral power in Europe,
rendered my embarrassments more complicated, and opened a school for the
English soldiers. It was I who trained the English army in the
Peninsula.
"Events have proved that I committed a great fault in the choice of my
means; for the fault lies in the means much more than in the principles.
It cannot be doubted that, in the crisis in which France then was, in
the struggle of new ideas, in the great cause of the age against the
rest of Europe, we could not leave Spain behind, at the disposal of our
enemies: it was absolutely necessary to enchain her, voluntarily, or by
force, in our system. The destiny of France required this: and the code
of the welfare of nations is not always that of individuals. Besides, to
political necessity was here superadded for me the force of right.
Spain, when she saw me in danger, Spain, when she knew that my hands
were full at Jena, had almost declared war against me. The insult ought
not to pass unpunished: I could declare war in my turn, and assuredly
the success could not be doubtful. It was this very facility that misled
me. The nation despised its government: it called loudly for a
regeneration. From the height to which Fortune had raised me, I
considered myself called, I considered it worthy of me to accomplish in
peace so great an event. I was solicitous to spare blood, that not a
drop should stain the Castilian emancipation. I therefore delivered the
Spaniards from their abominable institutions; I gave them a liberal
constitution; I deemed it necessary, perhaps too lightly, to change
their dynasty. I placed one of my brothers at their head; but he was the
only foreigner among them. I respected the integrity of their territory,
their independence, their manners, the remnant of their laws. The new
monarch gained the capital, having no other ministers, no other
councillors, no other courtiers, but those of the late Court. My troops
were about to withdraw: I had done the greatest benefit that ever was
conferred on a nation—so I said to myself, and so I still say. The
Spaniards themselves, as I have been assured, thought so in their
hearts, and never complained of any thing but the forms. I expected
their blessings, but I was disappointed: disdaining interest, they
thought only of the insult: they were indignant at the idea of an
affront, enraged at the sight of force, and all flew to arms. The
Spaniards, collectively, behaved like men of honour. I have nothing to
say on that head: but, if they triumphed, they have been cruelly
punished for it. Perhaps they are to be pitied.... They deserved
better."
The Emperor dined with us to-day; it was long since we had enjoyed his
company. After dinner he read to us Florian’s novel of Claudine, and
some extracts from Paul and Virginia, a work which he says he is very
fond of, on account of early recollections.
The Adamant transport has arrived. This vessel a short time ago missed
the island. She formed part of a convoy, the remainder of which arrived
nearly a month back. These ships brought the famous wooden palace,
accounts of which have filled all the newspapers in England, and
probably in Europe; and also the furniture, about which the papers have
also made a great parade. The wooden palace proved to be nothing more
than a number of rough planks, which no one knows how to put together at
St. Helena, and which it would require several years to fit up. The
splendour of the other articles was of course well suited to our
situation. Ostentation, pomp, and luxury, were for Europe; truth and
wretchedness for St. Helena.