7th.—The Governor came to Longwood about four o’clock, and went over the
establishment without asking to see any one. His ill-humour was visibly
increased, his manners had become fierce and brutal.
About five o’clock the Emperor sent for me; the Grand Marshal had been
with him for some time. When he went away, the Emperor began to talk
with me upon literature; and we reviewed almost every epic poem, ancient
and modern. When conversing on the Iliad, he took up an edition of
Homer, and read aloud several cantos. The Emperor greatly admired the
Iliad. “It was,” he said, "like the Books of Moses, the token and the
pledge of the age in which it was produced. Homer, in his epic poem, has
proved himself a poet, an orator, an historian, a legislator, a
geographer, and a theologist. He may be justly called the encyclopedist
of the period in which he flourished.”
The Emperor considered Homer inimitable. Father Hardouin had ventured to
question the authenticity of of the Iliad, and to attribute that sacred
monument of antiquity to a monk of the tenth century. This the Emperor
said was perfect absurdity. He added that he had never been so struck
with the beauties of the Iliad as at that very moment; and that the
sensations with which it then inspired him fully convinced him of the
justice of the universal approbation bestowed on it. One thing which
particularly struck him, he observed, was the combination of rudeness of
manners with refinement of ideas. Heroes were described killing animals
for their food, cooking their meat with their own hands, and yet
delivering speeches distinguished for singular eloquence and denoting a
high degree of civilization.
The Emperor desired me to stay and dine with him. “Yet,” said he, “you
would probably fare better at the table of the household; you will be
starved with me.” “Sire,” I replied, “I know that you are ill provided;
but I prefer privation shared with you to luxury enjoyed elsewhere.”
During the day, the Emperor was ill with the head-ache, of which some
individuals of his suite also complained. I regretted that he was unable
to go out, for the weather was very fine. After dinner, the Emperor
summoned the whole of his suite into his own chamber, and we remained
with him until ten o’clock.
8th.—About five o’clock the Emperor took an airing in the calash. On his
return he was visited by several English gentlemen, of whom, according
to custom, he asked a multitude of questions. These gentlemen had
arrived by the Cornwall: they were proceeding to China, and were
expected to touch at St. Helena in the following January on their
passage back to Europe.
After dinner one of the suite remarked to the Emperor that his feelings
had been painfully excited in the morning when writing out a fair copy
of his dictation respecting the battle of Waterloo, to find that the
result had depended, as it were, on a hair. The Emperor made no reply,
but, turning to Emmanuel, said, in a tone expressing deep emotion: “_My
son_ (which was his usual mode of addressing him) go and get Iphigenia
in Aulis, it will be a more pleasing subject.” He then read to us that
beautiful drama, which he admires exceedingly.