ON WOMEN, &C.—POLYGAMY.

Monday, 3rd.—The Emperor, after having been three hours in his bath,

went out at about five o’clock, to take a walk in the garden. He was

taciturn and dejected, and wore the appearance of suffering. We

afterwards drove out in the calash, and by degrees he became more

cheerful and talkative.

On our return, he continued to walk for some time; and in order to

engage in a playful warfare with one of the ladies present, he affected

to declaim against women. “We men of the West,” said he, winking aside

to us at the same time, to let us know that he was jesting, “know

nothing at all about the matter, we have acted most unwisely in treating

women too well; we have imprudently allowed them to rank almost as our

equals. In the East they have more sense and judgment; _there_ women are

pronounced to be the actual property of man; and so indeed they are.

Nature has made them our slaves, and it is only by presuming upon our

folly that they can aspire to govern us, and by abusing the advantages

which they possess, that they succeed in fascinating us and establishing

their dominion over us. For one woman that inspires us with proper

sentiments, there are a hundred who lead us into errors.” He then went

on to express his approbation of the maxims of the oriental nations,

highly commended the practice of polygamy, which he considered to be

that pointed out by nature, and displayed considerable ingenuity and

fertility of invention in the choice and number of arguments which he

adduced in support of his opinion. “Woman,” said he, "is given to man to

bear children to him; but one woman cannot suffice to one man for that

purpose, for a woman cannot fulfil the duties of a wife during the

period of her gestation, whilst she suckles her child, or when she is

ill: and she ceases altogether to be a wife when she is no longer able

to bear children. To man, on the contrary, nature has opposed no such

obstacles at any period of his existence; a man should therefore have

several wives.

“After all,” continued he, smiling significantly, “what have you to

complain of, ladies? have we not acknowledged that you possess a soul?

though certain philosophers, you know, have entertained doubts on this

point. You aim at equality, but _that_ is madness: woman is our

property, we are not hers; for it is she that gives us children, and not

we to her; she is therefore the property of man, in the same manner as

the fruit-tree is the property of the gardener. If the husband is

unfaithful to his wife, and he confesses his fault and repents of it,

there is an end of the matter; no trace of it is left: the wife is

angry, forgives, or becomes reconciled; and not unfrequently is a gainer

on the occasion. But the case is widely different when the wife is

unmindful of the marriage vow; it is of no avail for her to repent; the

consequences of her guilt are incalculable, the mischief irreparable,

she must never, she can never, confess it. You will therefore agree with

me, Ladies, that it can only be an error of judgment, the want of

education, or the preponderance of vulgar notions, that can prompt a

wife to believe herself the equal, in every respect, of her husband.

There is, however, nothing disparaging in the inequality; each sex has

its attributes and its duties; your attributes, Ladies, are beauty,

grace, fascination; your duties, submission, and dependance, &c.”

After dinner, the Emperor desired my son to bring him the Memoirs of the

Chevalier de Grammont and a volume of Voltaire’s plays. Having, as he

said, imposed on himself the task of remaining up till eleven o’clock,

the Emperor read for some time the Memoirs, observing that a very little

could be rendered amusing when seasoned with genuine wit. He afterwards

turned over Mahomet, Semiramis, and other plays of Voltaire’s, pointing

out their faults and blemishes, and concluding, as he generally did,

that Voltaire had no knowledge either of affairs, men, or the real

passions of human nature.

THE EMPEROR RESUMES THE DICTATION OF HIS

MEMOIRS, &C.

Tuesday, 4th.—The Emperor sent for me at about four o’clock to take a

ride in the calash. He told me he had at last been dictating again, and

that what had been done would not be found devoid of interest. He added

that he had been during the whole morning very much out of humour: that

he had at first attempted to go out at about one o’clock, but that he

had found himself compelled to return into the house, pursued by disgust

and ennui; and that, not knowing what to do with himself, he had thought

of resuming his dictations.

The Emperor had long since ceased to apply himself regularly to this

occupation. Several months had already elapsed since my Campaigns of

Italy were finished; the Campaign of Egypt which he had dictated to

General Bertrand, was also completed; and General Gourgaud had been very

ill. All these circumstances had concurred to cause interruptions, which

had engendered disgust; the Emperor had not proceeded further, and could

not summon courage to begin again.

I took advantage of what he had just said, to represent to him that to

dictate was, for him, the surest, the only remedy against _ennui_, the

only way in which he could beguile the tedious hours: and for us, the

means of obtaining the inestimable advantage of being put in possession

of treasures, in the existence of which the honour and glory of France

were equally interested. I urged, that it was of paramount importance

that he should continue to write his own history. “Each of us,” said I,

"would willingly give his life to obtain it; it was due to his memory,

to his family, to us. Where would his son find the events of his

father’s life faithfully recorded? What pen could be found equal to the

task of retracing them in a manner worthy of the subject? and yet,

without such invaluable documents, how many events would be buried with

Napoleon, and remain for ever unknown! We who surrounded him formerly,

what did we _then_ know? how much had we not learnt here," &c. &c. The

Emperor replied that he would continue his Memoirs, and consulted me as

to the plan to be followed in digesting them; should they appear as a

history? or as annals? He discussed the point for a long time, but

without coming to any conclusion.

At dinner he said, “I have to-day been severely reprimanded on account

of my idleness; I am therefore going to take to my task again, and

embrace several periods at the same time: each of you shall have his

share. Did not Herodotus,” said he, looking at me, “give to his books

the names of the muses? I intend that each of mine shall bear the name

of one of you. Even little Emmanuel shall give his to one of them. I

will begin the history of the Consulate with Montholon, Gourgaud shall

record the events of some other period, or detached battles; and little

Emmanuel shall prepare the documents and materials of the epoch of the

coronation.”

MILITARY SCHOOLS.—PLAN OF EDUCATION PRESCRIBED BY THE EMPEROR.—HIS

INTENTIONS IN BEHALF OF VETERANS.—CHANGES INTRODUCED IN THE MANNERS OF

THE CAPITAL.

Wednesday, 5th.—The Emperor went out at about four o’clock; he had been

three hours in his bath, and did not feel well. Yet the weather was

delightful; it was like a fine afternoon in Europe. We walked until we

came up to the calash, and then took our usual drive. Our conversation

turned upon the military school of Paris before the Revolution, and we

contrasted the footing of luxury upon which we were placed at that

school with the severe discipline introduced by the Emperor in these

establishments during his reign.

At the military school of Paris we were treated in every respect like

officers of fortune, boarded and waited upon in a style of great

magnificence, greater indeed than the circumstances of most of our

families warranted, and greater than most of us could hope to be able to

keep up in after-life. The Emperor had been anxious, he said, to avoid

falling into this error; he had wished, above all, that his young

officers, who were one day to command soldiers, should begin by being

soldiers themselves, and learn by experience all the technical details

of the service: a system of education, he added, which must ever prove

an immense advantage to an officer in the course of his future career,

by enabling him to follow them and to enforce the observance of those

details in others who are placed under his orders. It was on this

principle that, at St. Germain, the young students were obliged to groom

their own horses, taught to shoe them, &c. The same spirit presided over

the regulations at St. Cyr: there several pupils were lodged together in

one large apartment, a common mess was provided for all

indiscriminately, &c.: yet the attention paid to these particulars was

not suffered to interfere with the care bestowed upon the instruction

necessary to qualify them for their future career: in short, they did

not leave St. Cyr before they had really earned the rank of officers,

and were found capable of leading and commanding soldiers. “And it must

be admitted,” the Emperor observed, “that if the young men who passed

from that institution, at its origin, into different corps of the army,

were at first viewed with jealousy, ample justice was soon rendered to

their discipline and to their abilities.”

The establishments of Ecouen, St. Denis and others, which the benevolent

solicitude of Napoleon had created for the daughters of members of the

legion of honour, were conducted upon principles of a similar nature.

Some of the rules, made by the Emperor himself, ordered that every

article for the use of the institution should be made in the house and

by the hands of the pupils themselves, and forbade every species of

luxury, extravagance in dress, and plays; the object being, he said, to

form good housewives and respectable women.

Public opinion had given to Napoleon, at the time of his elevation, the

reputation of a man of a harsh disposition and void of sensibility; yet

it is certain that no sovereign ever acted more from the impulse of

genuine feelings than he did; but, from a peculiar turn of mind, he

concealed all emotions of the heart with as much care as others take to

display them.

He had adopted all the children of the soldiers and officers killed at

Austerlitz, and with him such an act was not one of mere form; he had

provided for them all.

I heard the following anecdote from a young man who has related it to me

since my return to Europe, with tears of gratitude. Having been

fortunate enough, when yet very young, to attract the Emperor’s notice

by some signal proof of his attachment; Napoleon asked him what

profession he would wish to embrace; and, without waiting for his

answer, pointed out one himself. The young man observed that his

father’s fortune was not sufficient to allow him to follow it. “What

signifies that?” replied the Emperor hastily: “Am I not also your

father?” Those persons who have known Napoleon in his private life, who

have lived near his person, can relate a thousand traits of the same

kind.

He had done much for the army and the veterans, and proposed to do much

more: every day some new thought tending to that object occupied his

mind. The plan of a decree was one day laid before us in the Council of

State, proposing that in future all vacant situations in the customs,

the collection of the revenue, and the excise, should be given to

wounded soldiers, or to veterans capable of filling them, from the

private up to the highest ranks in the army. This plan being coldly

received, the Emperor addressed one of those who opposed it in his usual

manner, urging him to discuss the question freely, and state his opinion

without reserve. “Sire,” answered M. Malouet, “my objection is that I

fear the other classes of the nation will feel themselves aggrieved in

seeing the army preferred to them.” “Sir,” replied the Emperor warmly,

“you make a distinction which does not exist; the army no longer forms a

separate class of the nation. In the situation in which we are now

placed no member of the state is exempt from being a soldier; to follow

a military career is no longer a matter of choice, it is one of

necessity. The greatest number of those who are engaged in that career

have been compelled to abandon their own profession against their will,

it is therefore but justice that they should receive some kind of

compensation for it.”—"But," again observes the member who opposed the

plan, “will it not be inferred that your majesty intends that in future

almost all vacant situations shall be given to soldiers?”—

“And such is indeed my intention,” said the Emperor. “Sir, the only

question is, whether I have the right to do so, and whether I thereby

commit an act of injustice? Now the constitution gives me the nomination

to all places, and I think it a principle of strict equity that those

who have suffered most have the greatest claims to be indemnified.”

Then, raising his voice, he added, “Gentlemen, war is not a profession

of ease and comfort: quietly seated on your benches here you know it

only by reading our bulletins, or by hearing of our triumphs. You know

nothing of our nightly watches, our forced marches, the sufferings and

privations of every kind to which we are exposed: but I do know them,

because I witness them, and sometimes share in them.”

This plan, however, like many others, was at last abandoned, after

having been several times under discussion and variously modified; and

the beneficent intentions of the Emperor were, I believe, not even known

to the public, though he had appeared to take a lively interest in the

passing of this decree, and had defended it in its most minute details.

Amongst the objections started against this plan, at the commencement of

the discussion, and the arguments to which they gave rise, were the

following:—"Would your majesty, for instance, give such situations to a

soldier who could not read?"—"Why not?"—"But how would he be able to

discharge his duties? how could he keep his accounts?"—"Sir, he would

apply to his neighbour, he would send for his relations, and the benefit

intended for one would be felt by many. Besides, I do not hold your

objection to be valid; we have only to stipulate that the man appointed

shall be qualified to fill the situation," &c.

Towards evening, the Emperor sent for me to his own room. I found him

alone, near a small fire, but almost in the dark, the lights being

placed in the next apartment. This obscurity, he said, was in harmony

with his melancholy. He was silent and dejected.

After dinner the Emperor took up the Memoirs of the Chevalier de

Grammont, but found himself unable to continue to read them.

A discussion then arose upon the manner in which time was spent in

Paris. The habits of society in former times and the present were

reviewed. The Emperor said he had thought much and often upon the means

of introducing variety into the pleasures of society. He had had

assemblies at Court, plays, excursions to Fontainbleau, but they had

only produced the effect, he said, of inconveniencing the people at

Court without influencing the circles of the metropolis. There was not

yet a sufficient degree of cohesion in those heterogeneous parts for

them to re-act upon each other with due effect: but this, he affirmed,

would have been brought about in the course of time. It was observed to

him that he had much contributed to shorten the evenings at Paris, as

all persons employed by government, having a great deal to do, and being

obliged to rise very early, were under the necessity of retiring early.

“It caused, however, great surprise in Paris,” said the Emperor,

“produced quite a revolution in manners, and almost stirred up a

sedition in the circles of the metropolis, when the First Consul

required that boots should be relinquished for shoes, and that some

little attention should be bestowed upon dress to appear in company.”

The Emperor dwelt with great pleasure upon the causes of the

good-breeding and amiable manners which distinguished society in our

younger days. He defined particularly those points which contributed to

render intimacy agreeable, such as a slight tinge of flattery on both

sides, or, at least, an opposition seasoned with delicacy and

politeness, &c.

REPUGNANCE TO PHYSIC.—GIL BLAS.—GENERAL BIZANET.—HEROIC DEEDS OF FRENCH

VALOUR.—REFLECTIONS, &C.

Thursday, 6th.—I did not see the Emperor before six o’clock; being

indisposed, he had remained in his room, and had not eaten any thing the

whole day. He said that he found himself unwell, and was amusing himself

by looking over some prints of London which the Doctor had lent him. The

Doctor had had the honour of seeing the Emperor in the course of the

day, and had made him laugh. “Hearing that I was not well,” said

Napoleon, “he claimed me as his prey, by immediately advising me to take

some medicine; medicine to me, who, to the best of my recollection,

never took any in the whole course of my life!”

It was now past seven: the Emperor said that a man who felt hungry was

not very ill. He called for something to eat, and a chicken was brought

to him, which he highly relished. This revived his spirits a little, he

became more talkative, and made remarks on several French novels. He had

been employed the greater part of the day in reading Gil Blas, which he

thought full of wit; but the hero and all his companions, he said, had

deserved to be sent to the galleys. He then turned over a chronological

register, and stopped at the brilliant affair of Bergenopzoom, commanded

by General Bizanet.

“How many gallant actions,” said the Emperor, “have been either

forgotten in the confusion of our disasters, or overlooked in the number

of our exploits. The affair of Bergenopzoom is one of these. A competent

garrison for that town would have been probably from eight to ten

thousand men, but it did not then contain more than two thousand seven

hundred. An English General, favoured by the darkness of the night, and

by the intelligence which he kept up with the inhabitants, had succeeded

in penetrating into it, at the head of four thousand eight hundred

chosen men. They are in the town, the inhabitants are on their side, but

nothing can triumph over French valour! A desperate engagement takes

place in the streets, and nearly the whole of the English troops are

killed or remain prisoners. That is undoubtedly, exclaimed the Emperor,

a gallant action! General Bizanet is a gallant officer!”

It is certain, as Napoleon had observed, that, in the last moments of

the Empire, numberless heroic deeds and historical traits have been

overlooked in the confusion of our disasters, or have disappeared in the

abyss of our misfortunes. Such are the extraordinary and singular

defence of Huningen, by the intrepid Barbanegre; and the gallant

resistance of General Teste at Namur, where, in an open town, with a

handful of brave fellows, he stopped short the rapid advance of the

Prussians, and facilitated the re-entry of Grouchy, without suffering

any loss. Such was the brilliant expedition of the brave Excelmans in

Versailles, which might have produced most important results, if it had

been supported as it had been decided that it should be; and several

others.

At any rate, these noble deeds at that critical period, have shed lustre

on the ranks of the army rather than on its principal leaders. It would

have been well, if, at the moment of that terrible catastrophe, during

that fatal crisis, some of our first generals had again exhibited some

of those noble acts of courage, those signal efforts, which marked our

first triumphs, and which, under Napoleon’s reign, had become almost a

national habit; whatever the result might have been, the attempt would

have been a source of consolation to our glory, and France would have

contemplated with satisfaction the heroic convulsions of her agony. We

ought not to have terminated our career by common actions.

At that calamitous period, we had more troops abroad than at home:

Dresden contained an army: a second army was shut up in Hamburg; a third

in Dantzick; and a fourth might have been easily collected by bringing

together the immense number of our soldiers, which formed several other

intermediate garrisons. All the efforts of our enemies tended only to

keep these brave troops separated from France, and to cut off their

return. Oh! that some one of their leaders had been inspired with the

thought to take advantage of those circumstances to liberate the sacred

soil, by attacking boldly that of the enemy, and obliging him thus to

retrace his steps! Would it have been impossible to unite those

different corps?

Would not the union of the garrisons of Dresden, Torgau, Magdeburg,

Hamburg, have produced a formidable army in the rear of the enemy,

capable of breaking through his line, or of placing him in a most

critical situation? Might not such an army have taken possession of

Berlin, liberated the garrisons on the Oder, gone to the assistance of

Dantzick, raised an insurrection in Poland, so well prepared for it, or,

in short, done something bold, striking, unexpected, in a word, worthy

of us?

What then was required to give a favourable turn to our destinies? the

most trifling event, before the Allies entered France, would have

sufficed to enable us to conclude a peace on reasonable terms at

Francfort; and, at a later period, when the enemy was already in our own

territory, the slightest cause of uneasiness in his rear at the time of

the heroic actions of Champaubert, Montmirail, Vauchamp, Craon,

Monterau, would probably have determined the hasty retreat of the

Allies, and insured our triumph, and perhaps their destruction. And, if

the general who had thus dared to devote himself had failed in the

attempt, it would not have been the worse for us, since we have

ultimately fallen; and he, in the spirit of our national character,

would have gained the reputation of a hero and rendered his name

immortal.

Instead of this, about one hundred thousand men were lost to France, by

tamely adhering to the letter of their instructions; a system which we

had long since abandoned. But perhaps I speak inconsiderately and

without due knowledge of the subject; perhaps local circumstances and

objections of which I am totally ignorant might be adduced as conclusive

answers against me; such as the health of the troops, the state of

destitution in which they were; the non-reception of orders from the

Emperor, who did endeavour to give some orders of that kind; the fear of

deranging the main plan; the dread of incurring too great a

responsibility, &c. But is it not rather that the source of these high

conceptions, and the cause of their heroic execution, were to be found

in Napoleon alone, and that where _he_ was not, as it may have been

often observed, affairs were suffered to sink to the level of their

ordinary course? Be that as it may, something of the kind was however

suggested to the General commanding the army in Dantzick, at the time of

the capitulation of that town. The idea came from an officer of inferior

rank, it is true, but from one whose courage and intrepidity, and the

success with which they had been crowned, entitled him perhaps to give

such an opinion: it was Captain de Chambure, the leader of that renowned

company of partisans which covered itself with glory during the siege.

This company had been formed for that particular service, of one hundred

picked men chosen out of the most notoriously intrepid, throughout all

the corps of the army; it fulfilled, and even exceeded, all the

expectations which it had raised; and the besiegers, struck with terror

at its exploits, honoured it with the epithet of _infernal_. It would

sometimes land at night in the rear of the Russian army, slaughter their

sentinels, spike their guns, burn their magazines, destroy their parks,

threaten the lives even of the generals, and return to the town through

the enemies’ camp over the bodies of all who opposed its passage. These

facts and several others are recorded in the general orders of that

army.

It cannot be denied that, in ordinary times, in the days that preceded

ours, every one of these actions would have been sufficient to

immortalize every individual who had a share in them, and that even

amidst the wonders of our age they are deserving of particular notice.

On his return from Elba, Napoleon was desirous of seeing the brave

Chambure, who was covered with wounds: he was accordingly introduced to

the Emperor by the Minister of War, and was immediately appointed to the

command of a partisan corps on the eastern frontiers of France, where he

again shewed himself worthy of his fame. Two English officers fell into

his hands in the very heart of France, and at the moment of the violent

exasperation produced by the recent disasters which had again befallen

us. De Chambure protected these officers from the fury of his own

soldiers, and preserved their equipages and even their baggage. Will it

be believed? Some time afterwards, this officer, whose courage, loyalty,

and above all, whose noble conduct were deserving of the highest

recompense, was by a French tribunal condemned to the galleys for life,

and to be branded and exposed in the pillory, for having, it was said,

stopped and robbed two officers of the enemy’s army on the highway! Such

is the justice of party-spirit! Such the monstrous aberrations to which

the judgment and the consciences of men can be reconciled by the

effervescence of civil commotions!

Under these circumstances, no alternative was left to Colonel de

Chambure but a speedy retreat from his own country: it was in vain that

from his exile he endeavoured to make the truth known; it was in vain

that the two English officers gave the most extensive publicity to the

testimonials of their gratitude: a considerable time elapsed before

Colonel de Chambure could seize the opportunity of a moment of political

calm, to deliver up his person to the tribunals, and call for a revision

of his trial.—That revision took place, and this time the result was a

declaration that there were not even any grounds of accusation against

him! This is indeed one of the peculiar signs of the times!

THE EMPEROR’S IMAGINARY PLANS FOR THE FUTURE.—NAPOLEON LITTLE KNOWN EVEN

BY HIS HOUSEHOLD—HIS RELIGIOUS OPINIONS.

From Friday 7th to Saturday 8th.—During a long private conversation,

this morning, the Emperor reverted to all the horrors of our present

situation, and enumerated all the chances which hope suggested of better

days.

After his remarks on these topics, which I cannot repeat here, he gave

the rein to his imagination, and said that the only countries in which

he could reside for the future were England and America. His

inclination, he added, prompted for America, because _there_ he should

be really free, and independence and repose were all he now sighed for:

then followed an imaginary plan of life: he fancied himself with his

brother Joseph, in the midst of a little France, &c. Yet policy, he

observed, might decide for England. He was bound perhaps to remain a

slave to events—he owed the sacrifice of himself to a nation which had

done more for him than he had done for it in return; and then followed

another imaginary plan for the future.

In the course of our subsequent conversation, the Emperor could not

sufficiently express his surprise at the conviction, which he had

obtained, that several of those who surrounded him and formed his Court,

believed the greatest part of the many absurdities and idle reports

which had been circulated respecting himself, and that they even went so

far as to doubt the falsehood of the enormities with which his

reputation had been stained.—Thus we believed that he wore armour in the

midst of us—was addicted to the superstition of presentiments and

fatality—subject to fits of madness or of epilepsy—that he had strangled

Pichegru—caused a poor English captain’s throat to be cut, &c. We could

not but admit that his invective against us on the occasion was merited;

all we could allege in our defence was that many circumstances had

concurred to leave those who formerly surrounded his person as much in

ignorance on the subject as the bulk of the nation could be. We

frequently saw him, I said, but we never held any communication with

him: every thing remained a mystery for us. Not a voice was raised to

refute, whilst many in secret, and some that were nearest to his person,

either through perverseness, or with bad intentions, seemed ever busy in

dealing out insinuations. As for myself, I candidly confessed that I had

not formed a just idea of his disposition before I came here, although I

could congratulate myself that I had certainly guessed him in part. “And

yet,” he observed in reply, “_you_ have often seen me and heard me in

the Council of State.”

In the evening, after dinner, the conversation turned upon religion. The

Emperor dwelt on the subject at length. The following is a faithful

summary of his arguments; I give it as being quite characteristic upon a

point which has probably often excited the curiosity of many.

The Emperor, after having spoken for some time with warmth and

animation, said: “Every thing proclaims the existence of a God, _that_

cannot be questioned; but all our religions are evidently the work of

men. Why are there so many?—Why has ours not always existed?—Why does it

consider itself exclusively the right one?—What becomes in that case of

all the virtuous men who have gone before us?—Why do these religions

revile, oppose, exterminate one another?—Why has this been the case ever

and every where?—Because men are ever men; because priests have ever and

every where introduced fraud and falsehood. However, as soon as I had

power, I immediately re-established religion. I made it the ground-work

and foundation upon which I built. I considered it as the support of

sound principles and good morality, both in doctrine and in practice.

Besides, such is the restlessness of man, that his mind requires that

something undefined and marvellous which religion offers; and it is

better for him to find it there, than to seek it of Cagliostro, of

Mademoiselle Lenormand, or of the fortune-tellers and impostors.”

Somebody having ventured to say to him that he might possibly in the end

become devout, the Emperor answered, with an air of conviction, that he

feared not, and that it was with regret he said it; for it was no doubt

a great source of consolation; but that his incredulity did not proceed

from perverseness or from licentiousness of mind, but from the strength

of his reason. “Yet,” added he, “no man can answer for what will happen,

particularly in his last moments. At present I certainly believe that I

shall die without a confessor; and yet there is one (pointing to one of

us) who will perhaps receive my confession. I am assuredly very far from

being an atheist, but I cannot believe all that I am taught in spite of

my reason, without being false and a hypocrite. When I became Emperor,

and particularly after my marriage with Maria Louisa, every effort was

made to induce me to go with great pomp, according to the custom of the

Kings of France, to take the sacrament at the church of Notre Dame; but

this I positively refused to do: I did not believe in the act

sufficiently to derive any benefit from it, and yet I believed too much

in it to run the risk of committing a profanation.” On this occasion a

certain person was alluded to, who had boasted, as it were, that he had

never taken the sacrament. “That is very wrong,” said the Emperor;

“either he has not fulfilled the intention of his education, or his

education was neglected.” Then, resuming the subject, he said, “To

explain where I come from, what I am, and whither I go, is above my

comprehension; and yet all that is. I am like the watch that exists,

without possessing the consciousness of existence. However, the

sentiment of religion is so consolatory that it must be considered as a

gift of Heaven: what a resource would it not be for us here to possess

it! What influence could men and events exercise over me, if, bearing my

misfortunes as if inflicted by God, I expected to be compensated by him

with happiness hereafter! What rewards have _I_ not a right to expect

who have run a career so extraordinary, so tempestuous, without

committing a single crime, and yet how many might I not have been guilty

of? I can appear before the tribunal of God, I can await his judgment

without fear. He will not find my conscience stained with the thoughts

of murder and poisonings, with the infliction of violent and

premeditated death, events so common in the history of those whose lives

have resembled mine. I have striven only for the glory, the power, the

greatness of France. All my faculties, all my efforts, all my moments,

were directed to the attainment of that object. These cannot be crimes;

to me they appeared acts of virtue. What then would be my happiness, if

the bright prospect of futurity presented itself to crown the last

moments of my existence!”

After a pause, he resumed. "How is it possible that conviction can find

its way to our hearts, when we hear the absurd language, and witness the

acts of iniquity, of the greatest number of those whose business it is

to preach to us? I am surrounded by priests, who repeat incessantly that

their reign is not of this world, and yet they lay hands upon every

thing that they can get. The Pope is the head of that religion from

heaven, and he thinks only of this world. What did the present Chief

Pontiff, who is undoubtedly a good, and a holy man, not offer to be

allowed to return to Rome! The surrender of the government of the

church, of the institution of bishops, was not too high a price for him

to give, to become once more a secular prince. Even now, he is the

friend of all the Protestants, who grant him every thing, because they

do not fear him. He is only the enemy of catholic Austria, because her

territory surrounds his own.

“Nevertheless,” he observed again, “it cannot be doubted that, as

Emperor, the species of incredulity which I felt was favourable to the

nations I had to govern. How could I have favoured equally sects so

opposed to one another, if I had been under the influence of any one of

them? How could I have preserved the independence of my thoughts, and of

my actions, under the controul of a confessor, who would have governed

me by the dread of hell? What power cannot a wicked man, the most stupid

of mankind, thus exercise over those by whom whole nations are governed?

Is it not the scene-shifter at the opera, who from behind the scenes,

moves Hercules at his will? Who can doubt that the last years of Louis

XIV. would have been very different, had he been directed by another

confessor? I was so deeply impressed with the truth of these opinions

that I promised to do all in my power to bring up my son in the same

religious persuasion which I myself entertain.”

The Emperor ended the conversation by desiring my son to bring him the

New Testament; and, taking it from the beginning, he read as far as the

conclusion of the discourse of Jesus on the mount. He expressed himself

struck with the highest admiration, of the purity, the sublimity, the

beauty of the morality which it contained; and we all experienced the

same feeling.

PORTRAIT OF THE DIRECTORS.—ANECDOTES.—18TH

FRUCTIDOR.

Sunday, 9th.—The Emperor spoke much of the creation of the Directory; he

had installed it, being then Commander-in-chief of the Army of the

Interior. This led him to review the five Directors, whose portraits and

characters he drew. He gave a lively picture of their follies and their

faults, and this led him to the events of Fructidor, and furnished many

curious particulars. I have collected the following, partly, from some

of his desultory conversations, and, partly, from his dictation of the

campaigns of Italy.

“Barras,” said the Emperor, "of a good family in Provence, was an

officer in the regiment of the Isle of France; at the revolution, he was

chosen Deputy to the National Convention for the department of the Var.

He had no talent for oratory, and no habits of business. After the 31st

of May, he was, together with Freron, appointed Commissioner to the army

of Italy, and to Provence, which was then the seat of civil war. On his

return to Paris, he threw himself into the Thermidorian party;

threatened by Robespierre, as well as Tallien and the remainder of

Danton’s party, they united, and brought about the events of the 9th

Thermidor. At the moment of the crisis, the Convention named him to

march against the _commune_, which had risen in favour of Robespierre;

he succeeded.

"This event gave him great celebrity. After the downfall of Robespierre,

all the Thermidorians became the leading men of France.

"At the critical period of the 12th Vendemiaire, it was determined, in

order to get rid at once of the three Commissioners to the Army of the

Interior, to unite in the person of Barras the power of Commissioner and

Commander of that army. But the circumstances in which he was placed

were too much for him; they were above his powers. Barras had no

experience in war, he had quitted the service when only a captain; he

had no knowledge of military affairs.

"The events of Thermidor and of Vendemiaire brought him into the

Directory; he did not possess the qualifications requisite to fill that

situation, but he acted better than was expected from him by those who

knew him.

"He kept up a splendid establishment, had a pack of hounds, and his

expenses were considerable. When he quitted the Directory, on the 18th

Brumaire, he had still a large fortune, and he did not attempt to

conceal it. That fortune was not large enough to have contributed in the

least to the derangement of the finances, but the manner in which it had

been acquired, by favouring the contractors, impaired the public morals.

"Barras was tall; he spoke sometimes in moments of agitation, and his

voice filled the house. His intellectual capacity did not allow him to

go beyond a few sentences, but the animation with which he spoke would

have produced the impression that he was a man of resolution; this

however he was not; and he had no opinion of his own upon any part of

the administration of public affairs.

"In Fructidor, he formed with Rewbel and La Reveillere Lepaux, the

majority against Carnot and Barthelemy; after that event he became to

all appearance the most important member of the Directory, but, in

reality, it was Rewbel who possessed the greatest influence. Barras

always appeared in public the warm friend of Napoleon. At the time of

the 30th Prairial, he had the art to conciliate the preponderating party

in the assembly, and he did not share the disgrace of his colleagues.

“La Reveillere Lepaux, born at Angers, belonged to the lower ranks of

the middling class of society. He was short, and his person was as

unprepossessing as can well be imagined; he was a true Æsop. He wrote

tolerably well, but his mind was narrow, and he had neither habits of

business nor knowledge of mankind. He was alternately governed,

according to circumstances, by Carnot or Rewbel. The _Jardin des

Plantes_, and the Theophilanthropy, a new religion of which he had the

folly to become the founder, occupied all his time. In other respects,

he was a patriot, warm and sincere, an honest man, and a citizen full of

probity and of learning; he was poor when he became a member of the

Directory, and poor when he left it. Nature had not qualified him to

occupy any higher station than that of an inferior magistrate.”

Napoleon, after his return from the army of Italy, found himself,

without knowing why, the object of the particular assiduity, the marked

attentions and flatteries of the Director La Reveillere, who asked him

one day to dine with him, strictly _en famille_, in order, he said, that

they might be more at liberty to converse together. The young General

accepted the invitation, and found, as he had promised, nobody present

but the Director, his wife, and his daughter, “who, by the way,” added

the Emperor, “were three paragons of ugliness.” After the dessert, the

two ladies retired, and the conversation took a serious turn. La

Reveillere descanted at length upon the disadvantages of our religion,

upon the necessity, however, of having one, and extolled and enumerated

the advantages of the religion which he wanted to establish, the

Theophilanthropy. “I was beginning to find the conversation rather

tedious and dull,” said the Emperor, “when, on a sudden, La Reveillere,

rubbing his hands with an air of satisfaction, said to me affectedly,

and with an arch look: ‘How valuable the acquisition of a man like you

would be to us!—what advantage, what weight would be derived from your

name!—and how glorious that circumstance would be to you!—Now what do

you think of it?’”—The young General was far from expecting to receive

such a proposal; however, he replied with humility, that he did not

think himself worthy of such an honour; and his principles being, when

treading an obscure path, to follow the track of those who had preceded

him in it, he was resolved to act, in the article of religion, as his

father and mother had done. This positive answer convinced the

high-priest that nothing was to be done; he did not insist, but from

that moment there was an end of all his attentions and flatteries

towards the young General.

“Rewbel,” said the Emperor, "born in Alsace, was one of the best lawyers

in the town of Colmar. He possessed that kind of intelligence which

denotes a man skilled in the practice of the bar,—his influence was

always felt in deliberations,—he was easily inspired with prejudices—did

not believe much in the existence of virtue—and his patriotism was

tinged with a degree of enthusiasm. It is problematical whether he did

or did not amass a fortune, during the time he was in the Directory; he

was surrounded by contractors, it is true,—but, with his turn of mind,

it is possible that he only amused himself by conversing with men of

activity and enterprise, and that he enjoyed their flatteries, without

making them pay for the complaisance which he shewed them. He bore a

particular hatred to the Germanic system—he displayed great energy in

the assemblies, both before and after the period of his being a

magistrate, and was fond of a life of application and activity. He had

been a member of the Constituent Assembly, and of the Convention; by the

latter he was appointed Commissioner at Mentz, where he gave no proofs

of firmness or of military talent; he contributed to the surrender of

the city, which might have held out longer. Like all lawyers, he had

imbibed from his profession a prejudice against the army.

"Carnot, born in Burgundy, had entered when very young the corps of

engineers, and shewed himself an advocate of the system of Montalembert.

He was considered by his companions as an eccentric character, and was

already a knight of the order of St. Louis at the commencement of the

revolution, the principles of which he warmly espoused. He became a

member of the Convention, and was one of the committee of public welfare

with Robespierre, Barrère, Couthon, Saint-Juste, Billaud-Varennes,

Collot-d’Herbois, &c. He was particularly inveterate against the

nobility, and found himself, in consequence, frequently engaged in

quarrels with Robespierre, who, towards the close of his life, had taken

a great many nobles under his protection.

"Carnot was laborious, sincere on every occasion, but unaccustomed to

intrigue and easily deceived. He was attached to Jourdan, as

Commissioner from the Convention, at the time when Jourdan was employed

in relieving the town of Mentz, which was besieged; and he rendered some

services on the occasion. In the Committee of Public Welfare, he

directed the operations of the war, and was found useful, but he had

neither experience nor practice in the military matters. He displayed on

every occasion great moral courage.

"After the events of Thermidor, when the Convention caused all the

members of the committee of Public Welfare to be arrested, with the

exception of himself, Carnot insisted upon sharing their fate. This

conduct was the more noble, inasmuch as public opinion had pronounced

itself violently against the Committee. He was nominated a member of the

Directory after Vendemiaire; but after the 9th Thermidor his mind was

deeply affected by the reproaches of public opinion, which attributed to

the committee all the blood which had flowed on the scaffold. He felt

the necessity of gaining esteem, and, believing that he took the lead,

he suffered himself to be led by some of those who directed the party

from abroad. His merit was then extolled to the skies, but he did not

deserve the praises of the enemies of France; he found himself placed in

a critical situation, and fell in Fructidor.

"After the 18th Brumaire, Carnot was recalled by the First Consul and

placed in the department of war; he had several quarrels with the

Minister of the Finances and Dufrenes the Director of the Treasury, in

which it is but fair to say that he was always in the wrong. At last, he

left the department, persuaded that it could no longer go on for want of

money.

"When a member of the Tribunate, he spoke and voted against the

establishment of the Empire; but his conduct, open and manly, gave no

uneasiness to the administration. At a later period, he was appointed

Chief Inspector of Reviews, and received from the Emperor, on his

retiring from the service, a pension of twenty thousand francs. As long

as things went on prosperously, the Emperor heard nothing of him: but,

after the campaign of Russia, at the time of the disasters of France,

Carnot solicited to be employed: he was appointed to command the town of

Antwerp, and he behaved well at his post. On his return in 1815, the

Emperor, after a little hesitation, appointed him to be Minister of the

Interior, and had no cause to repent of having done so; he found him

faithful, laborious, full of probity, and always sincere. In the month

of June, Carnot was named one of the Commission of the Provisional

Government, but being unfit for the place, he was duped.

“Le Tourneur de la Manche was born in Normandy; he had been an officer

of engineers before the revolution. It is difficult to explain how he

came to be appointed to the Directory; it can only be from one of those

unaccountable caprices of which large assemblies so often furnish

examples. He was a man of narrow capacity, little learning, and of a

weak mind. There were in the Convention five hundred deputies better

qualified for the situation; he was however a man of strict probity, and

left the Directory without any fortune.”

Le Tourneur made himself the talk and the laughing-stock of Paris; it

was said that he came from his department to take possession at the

Directory in a cart, with his house-keeper, his kitchen utensils, and

his poultry. The wags of the capital marked him, and he was overwhelmed

with ridicule. He was made, for instance, to return from the _Jardin des

Plantes_, whither he had run immediately on his arrival in Paris, and to

give an account of the rare things he had found there; and, on being

asked whether he had seen Lacepede,[19] he was surprised that he should

have passed it unobserved, declaring that _la Giraffe_ (the camelopard)

was the only thing that had been pointed out to him.[20]

Footnote 19:

Professor of Natural History.

Footnote 20:

I have been since told that part of these jokes had nothing to do with

Le Tourneur, but related to a man of the name of Letourneux, who was a

Minister about that time.

"The Directory was hardly established before it began to lower itself in

public estimation by caprices, bad morals, and false measures. The

faults and absurdities which it committed daily completed its discredit,

and it was lost in reputation almost at the very moment of its

formation. Intoxicated with their elevation, the Directors thought it

became them to adopt a certain air, and sought to acquire the appearance

and manners of _bon ton_. In order the better to succeed, they formed

each a little Court, where they received and welcomed the higher

classes, hitherto in disgrace, and who were naturally their enemies, and

from which they excluded the greatest part of their old acquaintances

and former companions, as thenceforward too vulgar. All those who during

the Revolution had shown more energy than the members of the Directory,

or who had trodden in the same path with them, became odious to them and

were immediately kept aloof; and the Directory thus rendered itself

ridiculous to one party, and alienated the affections of the other.

These five little Courts exacted a greater degree of servility in

proportion as they were inferior and ridiculous; but numbers of men were

found who could not bring themselves to bend and submit to formalities

which the recollection of recent circumstances, the nature of the

government and the character of the governors, rendered inadmissible.

"However, all the Directory could do to gain over the saloons of Paris

proved of no avail: it did not succeed in acquiring any influence over

them, and the Bourbon party was gaining ground. No sooner did the

Directors perceive this than they hastily retraced their steps; but it

was too late to recover the good-will of the republicans, whom they had

estranged by their conduct. This led to a system of wavering, which

looked like caprice; no course was laid down to steer by, no object was

kept in view, no unity prevailed. The reigns of terror and of royalty

were equally objected to; but in the mean time the road which was to

lead to the goal was left untried. The Directory thought to put an end

to this state of uncertainty and to avoid these perpetual waverings, by

striking at one blow the two extreme parties, whether they had deserved

it or not: if therefore a royalist, who had conspired or disturbed the

public tranquillity, was arrested by their orders, they caused a

republican, innocent or guilty, to be arrested at the same moment. This

system was nicknamed _The Political Seesaw_, but the injustice and fraud

which characterized it entirely discredited the government; every heart

was closed; it was a government of lead. Every true and generous feeling

was against the Directory.

"Men of business, jobbers and intriguers, by possessing themselves of

the springs of government, acquired the greatest influence; all places

were given to worthless individuals, to _protégés_, or to

relations—corruption crept into every branch of the administration. This

was soon perceived, and those who had it in their power to waste the

public money could act without fear; the foreign relations, the armies,

the finances, the department of the Interior, all felt the pernicious

effects of so vicious a system. This state of things soon gathered a

storm on the political horizon, and we proceeded with rapid strides to

the crisis of Fructidor.

"At that period the measures of the Directory were weak, capricious, and

uncertain; emigrants returned to France, and newspapers, paid by

foreigners, dared openly to stigmatize the most deserving of our

patriots. The fury of the enemies of our national glory exasperated the

soldiers of the army of Italy, which declared itself loudly against

them; whilst the Councils, in their turn, acting the parts of real

counter-revolutionists, spoke of nothing but priests, bells, and

emigrants. All the officers of the army, who had distinguished

themselves more or less in the departments, in the battalions of

volunteers, or even in the regiments of the line, finding themselves

thus attacked in their dearest interests, inflamed more and more the

anger of their soldiers; the minds of all parties were in a state of

effervescence. In a moment of such violent agitation, what measures

could the General of the army of Italy adopt? He had the choice of

three:

“1st. To side with the preponderating party in the Councils—but it was

too late; the army had declared itself, and the leaders of that party,

the orators of the Council, by attacking incessantly both the General

and his army, had not left him the possibility of adopting that

resolution.

2dly. “To embrace the party of the Directory and of the Republic. That

was the plainest course, that which duty pointed out, which the army

inclined to, and in which he was already engaged; for all the writers

who had remained faithful to the cause of the Revolution had declared

themselves, of their own accord, the ardent defenders and warm advocates

of the army and its commanders.

3dly. “To overpower both factions, by stepping forward boldly and

appearing openly in the contest as regulator of the Republic. But

notwithstanding the strength which Napoleon felt that he derived from

the support of the army, although his character was highly esteemed in

France, he did not think that the spirit of the times and public opinion

were such as to allow him to take so daring a step. And besides, if this

third measure had been that to which he secretly inclined, he could not

have adopted it immediately, and without having previously sided with

one of the two parties, which appeared at that moment in the political

lists. It was absolutely necessary, even in order to form a third party,

to side first either with the Councils or with the Directory.

“Thus, of the three measures to be adopted, the third in its execution

merged into the two first, and he was entirely debarred from adopting

the first of these two by the new formation of the Councils, and by the

attacks already made upon him by them.

“These considerations and conclusions,” the Emperor observed, “were the

natural result of a deep meditation upon the then existing state of

affairs in France. The General had therefore nothing to do but to let

events take their course, and second the impulse of his troops. And this

view of the subject produced the proclamation to the army of Italy, and

the far-famed order of the day of its General.

“‘Soldiers!’ he said, ‘I know that your hearts are full of grief at the

calamities of our country; but, if it were possible that foreign armies

should triumph, we would fly from the summit of the Alps with the

rapidity of the eagle, to defend once more that cause which has already

cost us so much blood.’

“These words decided the question; the soldiers, in ecstasy, were for

marching at once upon Paris. The rumour of the event spread immediately

to the capital, and produced a most powerful sensation. The Directory,

which every body considered as lost, which the moment before was

tottering alone and abandoned, found itself at once supported by public

opinion; it immediately assumed the attitude, and followed the course of

a triumphant party, and defeated all its enemies.

“The General of the army of Italy had sent the proclamation to his

soldiers to the Directory by Augereau, because he was a Parisian and

strongly in favour of the prevailing notions of the day.

“Nevertheless, the politicians of the day made the following surmises:

What would Napoleon have done if the Councils had triumphed; if that

faction, instead of being overthrown, had, on the contrary, overthrown

the Directory? In that case, it appears, that he was determined to march

upon Lyons and Mirbel with fifteen thousand men, where he would have

been joined by all the republicans from the south and from Burgundy. The

victorious Council would not have been more than three or four days

without coming to some violent rupture and division: for it is known

that, if the numbers of these Councils were unanimous in their

proceedings against the Directory, they were far from being so as to the

further course they meant to pursue. The leaders, such as Pichegru,

Imbert-Colonnes, and others, sold to foreign powers, exerted all their

influence to restore royalty and bring about a counter-revolution;

whilst Carnot and others sought to produce results quite opposite to

these. France would therefore have become immediately a prey to

confusion and anarchy, and in that case, all factions would have seen,

with satisfaction, Napoleon appear as a rallying point, an anchor of

safety, capable of saving them at the same time from the terror of

royalty and from the terror of demagogues. Napoleon would then naturally

have repaired to Paris, and found himself placed at the head of affairs

by the unanimous wish and consent of all parties. The majority of the

Councils was strong and positive, it is true, but it was only against

the Directors; it would have been divided _ad infinitum_ as soon as they

were overturned.

“The choice of three new Directors having openly exposed the true

intention of the measures of the counter-revolution, the greatest number

of the citizens, in their alarm, were ready to fly to meet Napoleon with

the national oriflamme[21] unfurled; for the true counter-revolutionists

were after all few in number, and their pretensions were too ridiculous

and absurd. Every thing would have given way before Napoleon. Had they

called him Cæsar or Cromwell, still he would have marched with a

religion, a party, whose ideas were settled and popular; he was master

of his soldiers, the coffers of the army were full, and he was in

possession of every other means calculated to ensure their constancy and

their fidelity. If the question were now to be asked whether Napoleon,

in the recesses of his own mind, would or would not have wished affairs

to take this turn, we should give our opinion in the affirmative; and we

are led to believe from the following fact, that his wishes and his

hopes were in favour of the triumph of the majority of the Councils. At

the moment of the crisis between the two factions, a secret decree,

signed by the three members composing the party of the Directory, asked

him for three millions to resist the attack of the Councils, but

Napoleon, under various pretences, did not send them, although it would

have been easy for him to do so; yet it is well known that it is not

consistent with his character to hesitate in money matters.

Footnote 21:

The _oriflamme_ was a flag which was carried before the kings of

France.

“Therefore, when the struggle was over, and the Directory took pleasure

in acknowledging openly that it owed its existence to Napoleon, it still

entertained some vague suspicions that Napoleon had only espoused its

cause in the hopes of seeing it overthrown, and of taking its place.

“Be that as it may, after the 18th Fructidor, the enthusiasm of the army

was at its height, and the triumph of Napoleon complete. But the

Directory, notwithstanding its apparent gratitude, surrounded Napoleon

from that moment with numerous agents, who watched his motions and

endeavoured to penetrate his thoughts.

"The situation of Napoleon was one of extreme delicacy, although his

conduct was so well regulated, and so admirable, that even at this

period we can only form mere conjectures on the subject; but to the

delicacy of his situation it is that we think we can trace the principal

reasons which led to the conclusion of the peace at Campo Formio, to his

refusal to remain at the Congress of Rastadt, and finally, to the

undertaking of the expedition to Egypt.

“As it always happens in France, immediately after the 18th Fructidor,

the party that had been overthrown disappeared on a sudden, and the

majority of the Directory triumphed without moderation. It became every

thing, and reduced the Councils to nothing.

“Napoleon then felt the necessity of peace, which, putting an end to the

present state of affairs, would increase his popularity: he had every

thing to fear from the prolongation of war; it might furnish those who

should have suspected him ready pretexts for injuring him; or the

intention might be to expose him in situations of difficulty, and unite

the other generals against him.

“Two of the generals, who enjoyed the greatest reputation at that time,

manifested openly their sentiments with respect to the great affair of

Fructidor: these were Moreau and Hoche.

“Moreau had declared himself positively against the Directory, and by a

line of conduct at once pusillanimous and culpable, he failed in his

duty and compromised his honour.

“Hoche was entirely in favour of the Directory, impelled by the

impetuosity of his disposition, he marched part of his army upon Paris,

and failed by acting with too much precipitation. His troops were

countermanded by the influence of the Councils, and he himself was

obliged to leave Paris, to avoid being arrested by order of these

Councils. Hoche had therefore done nothing to contribute to the success

of the 18th Fructidor; on the contrary he had injured the cause by

excess of zeal. But he had shown himself a man entirely devoted to the

Directory, and the majority of them could rely on him without reserve,

although his imprudence had nearly been the cause of their ruin.

“That same majority of the Directory entertained doubts, on the

contrary, with respect to Napoleon, who had been the cause of their

triumph; they still thought it possible that the General of the army of

Italy had calculated that the Directory would fall in the contest with

the Councils, and that he might then rise upon its ruins.

“But how could the Directory reconcile that supposition with the acts of

the General, who had done every thing to ensure its triumph? for it is

evident that without the order of the day of Napoleon, and the address

to his army, the Directory would have been undone.

“Some persons, well informed on the subject, seem to think that Napoleon

had really not formed a due estimate of the influence which he exercised

in France—that he had suffered himself to be misled by the libels and

the newspapers in which he was attacked,—and that he had considered the

measures which he adopted calculated not to ensure the complete triumph

of the Directory, but to produce precisely the effect of rendering him

the deliverer and the true support of the republic. The same persons add

that when the officers whom Napoleon had at Paris, and letters from

every part of France, had informed him that his proclamation had in one

moment changed altogether the state of public feeling in the interior,

then, and then only, he saw that he had done too much. We are the more

ready to adopt this opinion as we cannot understand why Napoleon should

have thought of preserving three Directors whom he did not care about.

The only one he esteemed (Carnot) was of the opposite party, and we know

that he felt indignant at the corruptness and the weakness of the

others.

“A man named Bottot, a private agent of Barras, was sent to Napoleon

with secret instructions, to endeavour to penetrate his views and to

ascertain why he had not sent the three millions of which the Directory

had stood so much in need. Bottot found the French General at

Passeriano, and began to intrigue right and left with those who

surrounded Napoleon; but he found every one warmly attached to the party

that had triumphed; and, having some concerns of his own to arrange, he

at last, in the course of some private conversations, confessed the

secret of his mission and the vague suspicions entertained by the

Directory. He had been soon undeceived by the appearance of simplicity

which distinguished Napoleon’s establishment, by the frankness of

Napoleon himself; and above all by the enthusiasm of the army, and of

the whole of Italy in favour of the General. But, even if the suspicion

of the Directory had been well founded, it would not have been

difficult, with a few marks of attention, and some frank and unaffected

conversations, to remove from Bottot’s mind, surrounded as he then was,

all cause of umbrage.

“He wrote to Paris that the fears which had been entertained were

altogether groundless, and much less to be dreaded than the perverseness

of those who wished to excite them. But the three millions, it was

objected to him, why were they refused? Napoleon had proved that the

order sent by the Directory was mysterious and irregular, and that,

encompassed as it was by such rogues as F—— and others, who had already

robbed the public exchequer, he had thought it prudent to ascertain the

truth; that he had immediately dispatched Lavalette, his confidential

aid-de-camp, to Paris, and that, as soon as Lavalette had informed him

of the true state of affairs, he was on the point of sending off the

three millions, when the fate of the day was decided.”

ENGLISH DIPLOMACY.—LORD

WHITWORTH.—CHATHAM.—CASTLEREAGH.—CORNWALLIS.—FOX, &C.

Monday, 10th—The course of our conversation to-day led the Emperor to

observe that nothing was so dangerous and so treacherous as official

conversations with diplomatic agents of Great Britain. “The English

Ministers,” said he, “never represent an affair from their nation to

another, but as from themselves to their own nation. They care little

what their adversaries have said or say; they boldly put forward what

their diplomatic agents have said, or what they make them say, on the

ground that, those agents having a public and acknowledged character,

faith must be placed in their reports. It is in pursuance of this

principle, Napoleon added, that the English Ministers published at the

time, under the name of Lord Whitworth, a long conversation between me

and Whitworth, the account of which was entirely false.”[22]

Footnote 22:

We who have been at St. Helena, we who have seen and been concerned in

the facts alleged by Lord Bathurst, before the parliament of Great

Britain, we all can affirm, before God and man, that the British

Ministers have on that occasion fully deserved the just reproaches

which they incurred at the time of Lord Whitworth. Many Englishmen,

who were then at St. Helena, have acknowledged it to us, and have

confessed that they blushed for their country!!

That ambassador had solicited an audience of the First Consul, and

personal communications. The First Consul, who was himself fond of

treating affairs directly, willingly assented. “But this proved for me,”

said the Emperor, “a lesson which altered my method for ever. From this

moment, I never treated officially of political affairs, but through the

intervention of my minister for Foreign affairs. He at any rate could

give a positive and formal denial; which the sovereign could not do.

“It is utterly false,” added the Emperor, "that any thing occurred in

the course of our personal interview, which was not in conformity with

the common rules of decorum. Lord Whitworth himself, after our

conference, being in company with other Ambassadors, expressed himself

perfectly satisfied, and added that he had no doubt all things would be

satisfactorily settled. But what was the surprise of those same

Ambassadors, when they read a short time afterwards in the English

newspapers the report of Lord Whitworth, in which he charged me with

having behaved in the interview with unbecoming violence! We had some

warm friends amongst these Ambassadors, and some of them went so far as

to express their surprise to the English diplomatist, observing to him

that his report was very different from what he had said to them

immediately after the conference. Lord Whitworth made the best excuse he

could, but persisted in maintaining the assertions of the official

document.

“The fact is,” said the Emperor, “that every political agent of Great

Britain is in the habit of making two reports on the same subject; one

public and false for the ministerial archives, the other confidential

and true for the Ministers themselves, and for them alone; and when the

responsibility of Ministers is at stake, they produce the first of these

documents, which, although false, answers every purpose, and serves to

exonerate them. And thus it is,” added the Emperor, "that the best

institutions become vicious, when they are no longer founded on

morality, and when their agents are only actuated by selfishness, pride,

and insolence. Absolute power has no need of disguise; it is silent:

responsible governments, being obliged to speak, have recourse to

artifice, and lie with effrontery.

"It is, however, a circumstance worthy of remark, that, in my great

struggle with England, the government of that country has constantly

contrived to attach so much odium to my person and actions; and that

they have so impudently exclaimed against my despotism, my selfishness,

my ambition, and my perfidy, when they alone were guilty of all they

dared to lay to my charge. A very strong prejudice must have existed

against me, I must have been indeed very much to be feared, since people

could suffer themselves to be thus deceived. I can understand it from

Kings and Cabinets, their existence was at stake; but from the

people!!...

"The British Ministers spoke incessantly of my duplicity; but could any

thing be compared to their Machiavelism, their selfishness, during the

existence of disorders and convulsions, which were kept alive by them?

"They sacrificed unfortunate Austria in 1805, merely to escape the

invasion with which I threatened them.

"They sacrificed her again in 1809, to be more at liberty to act in the

Peninsula.

"They sacrificed Prussia in 1806, in the hopes of recovering Hanover.

"They did not assist Russia in 1807, because they chose rather to seize

distant colonies, and because they were attempting to take possession of

Egypt.

"They gave to the world the infamous spectacle of bombarding Copenhagen

in time of peace, and lying in ambush to steal the Danish fleet. They

had already once before exhibited a similar spectacle by seizing, like

highway robbers, also in time of peace, four Spanish frigates laden with

rich treasures.

"Lastly, during the war in the Peninsula, where they endeavoured to

prolong the existence of anarchy and confusion, their principal object

was to traffic with the wants and the blood of the Spanish nation, by

obliging it to purchase their services and their supplies at the expense

of gold and concessions.

"Whilst all Europe, through their intrigues and their subsidies, was

bathed in blood, they were only intent upon providing for their own

safety, gaining advantages for their trade, and obtaining the

sovereignty of the sea and the monopoly of the world. As for myself, I

had never done any thing of the kind, and, until the unfortunate

business with Spain, which after all is not to be compared with the

affair of Copenhagen, I can say that my morality was unimpeachable. My

actions had perhaps been dictatorial and peremptory, but never disgraced

by perfidy. Who can be surprised, after all this, if, in 1814, although

England had really been the deliverer of Europe, not a single Englishman

could show himself on the Continent without meeting at every step with

maledictions, hatred, and execrations? Who can ask how this happened?

Every tree bears its own fruit; we reap only what we have sown; and such

was necessarily the infallible result of the misdeeds of the English

Government, the tyranny and the insolence of the Ministers in London,

and of their agents all over the globe.

"For the last fifty years the administrations of Great Britain have

gradually declined in consideration and in public estimation. Formerly,

the struggle for power was between great national parties, characterised

by grand and distinct systems; but now we see only the bickerings of one

and the same oligarchy, having constantly the same object in view, and

whose discordant members adjust their differences by compromise and

concessions: they have turned the Cabinet of St. James’s into a shop.

"The policy of Lord Chatham was marked by acts of injustice, no doubt;

but at least he proclaimed them with boldness and energy; they had a

certain air of grandeur. Pitt introduced into the Cabinet a system of

hypocrisy and dissimulation. Lord Castlereagh, the self-styled heir of

Pitt, has brought into it the extreme of every kind of turpitude and

immorality. Chatham gloried in being a merchant; Lord Castlereagh, to

the serious injury of his nation, has indulged himself in the

satisfaction of acting the _fine gentleman_; he has sacrificed his

country to fraternise with the great people of the continent, and from

that moment has united in his person the vices of the saloon with the

cupidity of the counting-house; the duplicity and obsequiousness of the

courtier with the haughtiness and insolence of the upstart. The poor

English constitution is in imminent danger. What a difference between

such men and the Foxes, the Sheridans, and the Greys, those splendid

talents, those noble characters of the Opposition, who have been the

objects of the ridicule of a victorious oligarchy!

“Lord Cornwallis,” said the Emperor, "is the first Englishman who gave

me, in good earnest, a favourable opinion of his nation; after him Fox,

and I might add to these, if it were necessary, our present Admiral

(Malcolm).

"Cornwallis was, in every sense of the word, a worthy, good, and honest

man. At the time of the treaty of Amiens, the terms having been agreed

upon, he had promised to sign the next day at a certain hour; something

of consequence detained him at home, but he pledged his word. The

evening of that same day, a courier arrived from London proscribing

certain articles of the treaty, but he answered that he had signed, and

immediately came and actually signed. We understood each other perfectly

well; I had placed a regiment at his disposal, and he took pleasure in

seeing its manœuvres. I have preserved an agreeable recollection of

him in every respect, and it is certain that a request from him would

have had more weight with me, perhaps, than one from a crowned head. His

family appears to have guessed this to be the case; some requests have

been made to me in its name, which have all been granted.

"Fox came to France immediately after the peace of Amiens. He was

employed in writing a history of the Stuarts, and asked my permission to

search our diplomatic archives. I gave orders that every thing should be

placed at his disposal. I received him often. Fame had informed me of

his talents, and I soon found that he possessed a noble character, a

good heart, liberal, generous, and enlightened views. I considered him

an ornament to mankind, and was very much attached to him. We often

conversed together upon various topics, without the least prejudice;

when I wished to engage in a little controversy, I turned the

conversation upon the subject of the infernal machine; and told him that

his ministers had attempted to murder me; he would then oppose my

opinion with warmth, and invariably ended the conversation by saying, in

his bad French, ‘First Consul, pray take that out of your head.’ But he

was not convinced of the truth of the cause he undertook to advocate,

and there is every reason to believe that he argued more in defence of

his country, than of the morality of its ministers."

The Emperor ended the conversation, by saying: “Half a dozen such men as

Fox and Cornwallis would be sufficient to establish the moral character

of a nation.... With such men I should always have agreed; we should

soon have settled our differences, and not only France would have been

at peace with a nation at bottom most worthy of esteem, but we should

have done great things together.”

HISTORY OF THE CONVENTION BY LACRETELLE.—STATISTICAL NOTICE OF THE OXEN

OF THE ISLAND.—PUNS.—STATISTICS IN GENERAL.

Tuesday, 11th.—This has been one of those days of wind and rain so

common here. The Emperor, about three o’clock, took advantage of a short

interval to visit the garden. He sent for me; he had just been reading

the history of the Convention by Lacretelle. It is, he observed,

certainly not ill-written; but it is ill-digested, and makes no

impression on the memory; the whole is a smooth surface without a single

asperity to arrest attention. He does not thoroughly examine his

subject: he has not done justice to many celebrated characters; he gives

no adequate colouring to the crimes of several others, &c.

The rain obliged us to return, and we walked alone for a long time in

the saloon and the dining room.

We had been informed, that there were four thousand oxen in the island,

and that the annual consumption consisted of five hundred, of which

number one hundred and fifty were appropriated to us, fifty to the

colony, and three hundred to the shipping. It was added, that four years

were requisite for the reproduction of the stock, and this formed a

subject for our calculations; an employment for which the Emperor’s

peculiar taste is well known.

The subsistence and consumption of these oxen are an important affair in

the island. A single beast cannot be killed without the previous order

of the governor, and it was stated by one of our people, that the owner

of one of the houses or huts of the island, speaking to him on the

subject, said: “It is reported, that you complain up yonder, and

consider yourselves badly off; (he spoke of Longwood) but we are at a

loss to make it out; for it is said that you have beef every day, while

we cannot get it but three or four times a year, and even then we pay

for it at the rate of fifteen or twenty pence a pound.” The Emperor, who

laughed heartily at the story, observed, “You ought to have assured him,

that it cost us more than a crown.”

I observed some time afterwards, that it was the only pun I had till

then heard from the Emperor’s mouth, but the person to whom I made the

remark, said he had heard of his having made a similar one, and on the

same subject, in the isle of Elba. A mason employed in some buildings,

which were to be constructed by the Emperor’s order, had fallen and hurt

himself; the Emperor wishing to encourage him, assured him, that it

would be of no consequence. “I have had,” said he, “a much worse fall

than yours; but look at me, I am on my legs, and hearty, for all that.”

The Emperor’s attention was for a moment directed to political

statistics. He highly extolled the progress and utility of that new

science, so well adapted, he observed, to point out the path of truth,

to establish and confirm opinions. He called it the _budget of things_,

and “without budget,” said he gaily, “there is no safety.”

The singular application of the science by an Englishman or German, who

had the patience and resolution to ascertain the number of times each

letter of the alphabet occurred in the Bible, was then noticed by a

person present. He also mentioned another application of it, less dull,

but not less singular. It was that made by a German, eighty years of

age, who amused himself with calculating what he might have eaten,

during his life, in beef, mutton, poultry, vegetables, &c. as well as

what he had drunk. The estimate comprehended immense droves, flocks, and

accumulations of all sorts. The public market-place was incapable of

containing all he had devoured. This minute applicant of the science did

not stop there. He had the curiosity to inquire how often he might have

again swallowed the same things. For, he judiciously observed, their

transmutation in his person ought necessarily to have contributed to

their reproduction. The Emperor laughed much at the calculation, and

more particularly at the whimsical repetition of the same eatables.

CHARACTERS. BAILLI, LAFAYETTE, MONGES, GRÉGOIRE, &C.—ST. DOMINGO.—SYSTEM

TO BE FOLLOWED.—DICTATIONS ON THE CONVENTION.

June 12th.—We have had three days of horrible weather, when a moment

that promised to continue fine, induced the Emperor to take an airing in

his carriage. He had just finished reading the History of the

Constituent Assembly, by Rabeau de St. Etienne. He entertained very

nearly the same opinion of this writer as of Lacretelle. He then took

occasion to notice several characters.

“Bailli,” he said, “was not a bad man, but unquestionably a miserable

politician. Lafayette was another simpleton, and by no means formed for

the eminent character he wished to represent. His political simplicity

was such, that he could not avoid being the constant dupe of men and

things. His breaking up of the chambers on my return from Waterloo, was

my ruin. Who could have persuaded him, that I had arrived merely for the

purpose of dissolving them;—I, whose only safety was centred in them?”

One of the party saying, by way of excuse or extenuation; “It was,

however, sire, the same man, who, treating afterwards with the allies,

was filled with indignation at their proposal of delivering up your

Majesty, and eagerly asked, if it was to the prisoner of Olmutz they

dared to address themselves?”—"But, sir," replied the Emperor, “you run

from one subject to another, or rather, you concur with, instead of

opposing, my opinion. I have not attacked the sentiments or intentions

of M. de Lafayette; I have only complained of their fatal results.”

The Emperor then continued, in the same way, to review the leading men

of that period. He dwelt at considerable length on the affair of Favras,

&c.

“For the rest,” observed the Emperor, "nothing was more common than to

find men of that epoch quite the reverse in character of that which

their words and actions seemed to establish. Monges, for instance, might

be considered a terrible man. When war was resolved upon, he declared

from the tribune of the Jacobins, that he would give his two daughters

in marriage to the two first soldiers who might be wounded by the enemy.

This he was at liberty to do, in the strict sense of the gift, as far as

it respected himself; but he maintained, that others should be compelled

to follow his example, and that all the nobility should be put to death,

&c. Yet Monges was one of the mildest and weakest men living, and would

not have suffered a chicken to be killed, if he had been obliged to do

it himself or to see it done. This furious republican, as he believed

himself, cherished, however, a kind of worship for me, which he pushed

to adoration. He loved me, as a man loves his mistress.

"Grégoire, whose animosity to the clergy, whom he wished to bring back

to their original simplicity, was so great that he might have passed for

a champion of irreligion, may be mentioned as another instance; yet

Grégoire, when the revolutionists were denying their God, and abolishing

the priesthood, was very near being massacred in mounting the tribune,

for the purpose of boldly declaring his religious sentiments, and

protesting that he would die a priest. At the very moment when the work

of destruction was going on in all the churches against the altars,

Grégoire erected one in his own apartment, and said mass there every

day. This man’s lot, however, is decidedly cast. If he be driven from

France, he must take refuge in St. Domingo. The friend, the advocate,

the eulogist of the negroes will be a god, or a saint, among them."

St. Domingo naturally became the next subject of our conversation. I

had, in my younger days, seen that colony in its most flourishing state.

The Emperor put many questions to me, and made himself acquainted with

all the circumstances relating to that remote period. When his enquiries

were over, he said, “I shall, no doubt, astonish you: but I am

convinced, even from your own statements, that the island has not, at

this moment, lost a third, certainly not one half of its value, and

that, in a short time, it will recover all its former prosperity.”

I should not, in reality, be surprised at it; for all the absurd

stories, circulated in Europe respecting France, ought to put us on our

guard against those which might be safely told with regard to St.

Domingo.

The Emperor said that, after the restoration, the French government had

sent out emissaries and proposals which were laughed at by the negroes.

“As to myself,” he added, “on my return from Elba, I would have settled

all differences with them; I would have recognized their independence,

contented myself with some factories, like those on the coast of Africa,

endeavoured to draw them closer to the mother country, and to establish

a kind of family intercourse with them, which might, in my opinion, have

been easily accomplished.”

“I have to reproach myself with the attempt made upon the colony during

the consulship. The design of reducing it by force was a great error. I

ought to have been satisfied with governing it through the medium of

Toussaint. Peace with England was not sufficiently consolidated, and the

territorial wealth I should have acquired by its reduction would have

served but to enrich our enemies.” He had, he observed, the greater

reason to reproach himself with this fault, because he had foreseen its

failure, and it was executed against his inclination. He had solely

yielded to the opinion of the council of state and his ministers,

hurried along, as they were by the clamours of the colonists, who formed

a considerable party at Paris, and were, besides, he said, either nearly

all royalists or in the pay of the English faction.

The Emperor assured us, that the army which had been sent out consisted

but of sixteen thousand men, and was quite sufficient. The failure of

the expedition was solely to be attributed to accidental circumstances,

such as the yellow fever, the death of the Commander-in-chief, but above

all to his blunders, a new war, &c.

“The arrival of the Captain General Leclere,” said the Emperor, "was

followed by complete success, but he had not the skill to ensure its

continuance. Had he followed the secret instructions which I drew up for

him myself, he would have saved many lives and spared himself great

mortifications. I ordered him, among other things, to associate with

himself men of colour, that he might the better keep the Blacks in

subjection; and, as soon as he had reduced the Colony, to send to France

all the black Generals and superior officers, to be placed at the

disposal of the minister at war, who would have employed them in their

respective ranks. This measure, which would have deprived the Negro

population of its chiefs and its leaders, would have been a decisive

stroke, without wounding in their persons the military laws and

regulations. But Leclere did just the contrary: he kept down the people

of colour, and bestowed his confidence on the black Generals. In

consequence, as it might naturally be expected, he was duped by the

latter, found himself beset with difficulties, and the Colony was lost.

At first, he would not send to France Toussaint, who had filled a

distinguished post there; but after some time he found himself obliged

to order his apprehension and to send him prisoner to us. Malevolence

did not fail to paint this act under the odious colours of tyranny and

perfidy, representing Toussaint as an innocent victim deserving of the

deepest interest; and yet he was eminently criminal.

"Toussaint was not a man destitute of merit; though certainly he was not

what people attempted to describe him at the time. His character,

besides, was ill calculated to inspire real confidence; he had given us

serious causes of complaint. We must always have distrusted him.[23] He

was chiefly guided by an officer of engineers or artillery, director of

the fortifications of St. Domingo. (Colonel Vincent). That officer had

come to France before Leclere’s expedition, and conferences were, for a

long time, held with him. He exerted himself very much to prevent the

attempt, and described with great precision, all its difficulties,

without pretending, however, that it was impossible." The Emperor

thought that the Bourbons might succeed in reducing St. Domingo if they

employed force; but on that subject the result of arms was not to be

calculated upon; it was rather the result of commerce and of grand

political views. Three or four hundred millions of capital transferred

from France to a remote country; an indefinite period for reaping the

fruits of such a sacrifice; the very great certainty of seeing them

engrossed by the English, or swallowed up by revolutions, &c.: those

were the points for consideration. The Emperor concluded with saying,

"The colonial system, which we have witnessed, is closed for us, as well

as for the whole continent of Europe; we must give it up, and henceforth

confine ourselves to the free navigation of the seas, and the complete

liberty of universal exchange.”

Footnote 23:

The “Memoires de Napoleon” (published at Paris by Bossange, in 1823)

contain notes by the Emperor on a history of St. Domingo, which

furnish precise and curious particulars respecting the expedition

against that colony, the causes which led to the undertaking, to its

failure, &c.

The History of the Convention, of which Napoleon had already expressed

his disapprobation, again presented itself to his thoughts; he was far

from being satisfied with Lacretelle. “Sentences in abundance,” he

repeated, “and but little colouring, no depth: he is an academician, but

in no respect a historian.” He made me call my son, and dictated the two

following notes, of which I give a literal copy, however imperfect they

may be, for he never read them a second time. Every thing that comes

from him is, in my opinion, valuable.