THE MONITEUR AND LIBERTY OF THE PRESS.

June 13th.—The Emperor had just run over a great many numbers of the

Moniteur. “These Moniteurs,” said he, “so terrible and dangerous to so

many reputations, are uniformly useful and favourable to me alone. It is

with official documents that men of sense and real talents will write

history; now, these documents are full of the spirit of my government,

and to them I make an earnest and solemn appeal.” He added, that he had

made the Moniteur the soul and life-blood of his government, and that it

was the intermediate instrument of his communications with public

opinion, both abroad and at home. Every government had since followed

his example more or less in that respect.

“Whatever serious fault might be committed by any of the high

functionaries employed in the interior, immediately,” said the Emperor,

"an enquiry was set on foot by three Councillors of State. They made

their report to me, confirmed the facts and discussed the principles.

For my own part, I had nothing more to do than to write at the

bottom—‘_Dispatched for execution according to the laws of the republic,

or of the empire._’ My interference was at an end, the public result

accomplished, and popular opinion did justice to the transaction. It was

the most formidable and dreadful of my tribunals. Did any question arise

abroad respecting certain grand political combinations or some delicate

points of diplomacy? The objects were indirectly hinted at in the

Moniteur. They instantly attracted universal attention and became the

topics of general investigation. This conduct was at once the orderly

signal for the adherents of the throne, and at the same time an appeal

to the opinion of all. The Moniteur has been reproached for the acrimony

and virulence of its notes against the enemy. But before we condemn

them, we are bound to take into consideration the benefits they may have

produced, the anxiety with which they occasionally gave the enemy, the

terror with which they struck a hesitating cabinet, the stimulus which

they imparted to our allies, the confidence and audacity with which they

inspired our troops," &c.

The conversation next turned upon the liberty of the press, and the

Emperor asked our opinions. We talked for a long time very idly on the

subject, and threw out a great number of common-place ideas. Some were

hostile to it. “Nothing,” said they, “can resist the liberty of the

press. It is capable of overthrowing every government, of agitating

every society, of destroying every reputation.” “It is only,” observed

others, “its prohibition that is dangerous. If it be restricted, it

becomes a mine that must explode, but if left to itself it is merely an

unbent bow, that can inflict no wound.” Here the Emperor observed, that

he was far from being convinced with regard to that point, but that it

was no longer the question for consideration; that there were

institutions at present, and the liberty of the press was among the

number, on the excellence of which we were no longer called upon to

decide, but solely to determine the possibility of withholding them from

the overbearing influence of popular opinion. He declared, that the

prohibition under a representative government was a gross anachronism, a

downright absurdity. He had, therefore, on his return from the Isle of

Elba, abandoned the press to all its excesses, and he was well assured,

that they had, in no respect, contributed to his recent downfall. When

it was proposed in council, in his presence, to discuss the means of

sheltering the authority of the State from its attacks, he jocosely

remarked, “Gentlemen, it is probably yourselves you wish to protect,

for, with respect to me, I shall henceforth continue a stranger to all

such proceedings. The press has exhausted itself upon me during my

absence, and I now defy it to produce any thing new or provoking against

me.”

THE WAR, AND ROYAL FAMILY OF SPAIN.—FERDINAND AT VALENCEY.—ERRORS IN THE

AFFAIRS OF SPAIN.—HISTORICAL SKETCH OF THESE EVENTS, &C.—NAPOLEON’S

ADMIRABLE LETTER TO MURAT.

June 14th.—The Emperor had been ill the whole of the night, and

continued so during the day; he had a foot-bath, and was not inclined to

go out; he dined alone in his apartment, and sent for me towards the

evening.

The Emperor began the conversation, of which the constant subject was

the Spanish war. It has been seen in the notice which I have already

taken of it, that the Emperor took upon himself the whole blame of the

measure. I wish to avoid repetitions as much as possible, and shall,

therefore, allude to those topics only which appeared new to me.

“The old King and Queen,” said the Emperor, "at the moment of the event,

were the objects of the hatred and contempt of their subjects. The

Prince of Asturias conspired against them, forced them to abdicate, and

at once united in his own person the love and hopes of the nation. That

nation was, however, ripe for great changes and demanded them with

energy. I enjoyed vast popularity in the country, and it was in that

state of things that all these personages met at Bayonne; the old king

calling upon me for vengeance against his son, and the young prince

soliciting my protection against his father, and imploring a wife at my

hands. I resolved to convert this singular occasion to my advantage,

with the view of delivering myself from that branch of the Bourbons, of

continuing in my own dynasty the family system of Louis XIV. and of

binding Spain to the destinies of France. Ferdinand was sent to

Valencey, the old king to Marseilles, as he wished, and my brother

Joseph went to reign at Madrid with a liberal constitution, adopted by a

junta of the Spanish nation, which had come to receive it at Bayonne.

“It seems to me,” continued he, "that Europe, and even France, has never

had a just idea of Ferdinand’s situation at Valencey. There is a strange

misunderstanding in the world with respect to the treatment he

experienced, and still more so, with respect to his wishes and personal

opinions as to that situation. The fact is, that he was scarcely guarded

at Valencey, and that he did not wish to escape. If any plots were

contrived to favour his evasion, he was the first to make them known. An

Irishman (Baron de Colli) gained access to his person, and offered, in

the name of George the Third, to carry him off; but Ferdinand, so far

from embracing the offer, instantly communicated it to the proper

authority.

“His applications to me for a wife at my hands were incessant. He

spontaneously wrote to me letters of congratulation upon every event

that occurred in my favour. He had addressed proclamations to the

Spaniards recommending their submission; he had recognized Joseph. All

these were circumstances which might, indeed, have been considered as

forced upon him; but he requested from him the insignia of his grand

order; he tendered to me the services of his brother, Don Carlos, to

take the command of the Spanish regiments, which were marching to

Russia,—proceedings to which he was, in no respect, obliged. To sum up

all, he earnestly solicited my permission to visit my court at Paris,

and if I did not lend myself to a spectacle, which would have astonished

Europe, by displaying the full consolidation of my power, it was because

the important circumstances which called me abroad, and my frequent

absence from the capital, deprived me of the proper opportunity.”

About the beginning of a year, at one of the Emperor’s levees, I

happened to be next to the Chamberlain, Count d’Arberg, who had been

doing duty at Valencey, near the persons of the princes of Spain. When

the Emperor approached, he enquired if these princes conducted

themselves with propriety, and added; “You have brought me a very pretty

letter; but between ourselves, it was you who wrote it for them.”

D’Arberg assured him, that he was altogether unacquainted even with the

nature of its contents. “Well,” said the Emperor, “a son could not write

more cordially to his father.”

“When our situation in Spain,” observed the Emperor, “proved dangerous,

I more than once proposed to Ferdinand to return and reign over his

people; that we should openly carry on war against each other: and that

the contest should be decided by the fate of arms.” “No,” answered the

prince, who seems to have been well advised, and never deviated from

that way of thinking. “My country is agitated by political disturbances;

I should but multiply its embarrassments: I might become their victim,

and lose my head upon the scaffold. I remain; but, if you will choose a

wife for me, if you will grant me your protection and the support of

your arms, I shall set out and prove a faithful ally.”

"At a later period, during our disasters, and towards the end of 1813, I

yielded to that proposal, and Ferdinand’s marriage with Joseph’s eldest

daughter was decided; but circumstances were then no longer the same,

and Ferdinand was desirous that the marriage should be deferred. “You

can no longer,” he observed, support me with your arms, and I ought not

to make my wife a title of exclusion in the eyes of my people." “He left

me,” continued the Emperor, “as it seemed, with every intention of good

faith, for he adhered to the principles which he avowed on his

departure, until the events of Fontainebleau.”

The Emperor declared that, had the affairs of 1814 turned out

differently, he would unquestionably have accomplished his marriage with

Joseph’s daughter.

The Emperor, in reverting to these affairs, said, that the impolicy of

his own conduct was irrevocably decided by the results; but that

independently of this kind of proof, depending upon consequences, he had

to reproach himself with serious faults in the execution of his plans.

One of the greatest was that of considering the dethronement of the

dynasty of the Bourbons as a matter of importance, and of maintaining as

the basis of this system, for its successor, precisely that man, who

from his qualities and character, was certain to cause its failure.

During the meeting at Bayonne, Ferdinand’s former preceptor and his

principal counsellor (Escoiquiz) at once perceiving the vast projects

entertained by the Emperor, and pleading the cause of his master, said

to him: "You wish to create for yourself a kind of Herculean labour,

when you have but child’s play in hand. You wish to rid yourselves of

the Bourbons of Spain; why should you be apprehensive of them? They have

ceased to exist; they are no longer French. You have nothing to fear

from them; they are altogether aliens with respect to your nation and

your manners. You have here Madame de Montmorency, and some new ladies

of your Court; they are not more acquainted with the one than with the

other, and view them all with equal indifference." The Emperor

unfortunately formed a different resolution.

I took the liberty of telling him, I had been assured by some Spaniards,

that, if the national pride had been respected, and the Spanish junta

held at Madrid instead of Bayonne, or even, if Charles IV. had been sent

off and Ferdinand retained, the revolution would have been popular, and

affairs would have taken another turn. The Emperor entertained no doubt

of it, and agreed that the enterprize had been imprudently undertaken,

and that many circumstances might have been better conducted. “Charles

IV.,” said he, "was, however, too stale for the Spaniards. Ferdinand

should have been considered in the same light. The plan most worthy of

me, and the best suited to my project, would have been a kind of

mediation like that of Switzerland. I ought to have given a liberal

constitution to the Spanish nation, and charged Ferdinand with its

execution. If he had acted with good faith, Spain must have prospered

and harmonized with our new manners. The great object would have been

obtained, and France would have acquired an intimate ally and an

addition of power truly formidable. Had Ferdinand, on the contrary,

proved faithless to his new engagements, the Spaniards themselves would

not have failed to dismiss him, and would have applied to me for a ruler

in his place.

“At all events,” concluded the Emperor, "that unfortunate war in Spain

was a real affliction, and the first cause of the calamities of France.

After my conferences at Erfurt with Alexander, England ought to have

been compelled to make peace by the force of arms or of reason. She had

lost the esteem of the continent; her attack upon Copenhagen had

disgusted the public mind, while I distinguished myself at that moment

by every contrary advantage, when that disastrous affair of Spain

presented itself to effect a sudden change against me and reinstate

England in the public estimation. She was enabled, from that moment, to

continue the war; the trade with South America was thrown open to her;

she formed an army for herself in the peninsula, and next became the

victorious agent, the main point, of all the plots which were hatched on

the continent. All this effected my ruin.

"I was then assailed with imputations, for which, however, I had given

no cause. History will do me justice. I was charged in that affair with

perfidy, with laying snares, and with bad faith, and yet I was

completely innocent. Whatever may have been said to the contrary, never

have I broken any engagement, or violated my promise, either with regard

to Spain or any other power.

"The world will one day be convinced, that in the principal transactions

relative to Spain I was completely a stranger to all the domestic

intrigues of its Court: that I broke no promise made either to Charles

IV. or to Ferdinand VII.: that I violated no engagement with the father

or the son: that I made use of no falsehoods to entice them both to

Bayonne, but that they both strove which should be the first there. When

I saw them at my feet and was enabled to form a correct opinion of their

total incapacity, I beheld with compassion the fate of a great people; I

eagerly seized the singular opportunity, held out to me by fortune, for

regenerating Spain, rescuing her from the yoke of England, and

intimately uniting her with our system. It was, in my conception, laying

the fundamental basis of the tranquillity, and security of Europe. But I

was far from employing for that purpose, as it has been reported, any

base and paltry stratagems. If I erred, it was, on the contrary, by

daring openness and extraordinary energy. Bayonne was not the scene of

premeditated ambush, but of a vast master-stroke of state policy. I

could have preserved myself from these imputations by a little

hypocrisy, or by giving up the Prince of the Peace to the fury of the

people; but the idea appeared horrible to me, and struck me as if I was

to receive the price of blood. Besides, it must also be acknowledged

that Murat did me a great deal of mischief in the whole affair.

"Be that as it may, I disdained having recourse to crooked and

common-place expedients—I found myself so powerful!—I dared to strike

from a situation too exalted. I wished to act like Providence, which, of

its own accord, applies remedies to the wretchedness of mankind, by

means occasionally violent, but for which it is unaccountable to human

judgment.

“I candidly confess, however, that I engaged very inconsiderately in the

whole affair; its immorality must have shewn itself too openly, its

injustice too glaringly, and the transactions taken altogether, present

a disgusting aspect, more particularly since my failure; for the outrage

is no longer seen but in its hideous nakedness, stripped of all

loftiness of idea, and of the numerous benefits which it was my

intention to confer. Posterity, however, would have extolled it had I

succeeded, and perhaps with reason, on account of its vast and happy

results. Such is our lot, and such our judgment in this world!... But I

once more declare, that, in no instance was there any breach of faith,

any perfidy or falsehood, and, what is more, there was no occasion for

them.” Here the Emperor resumed, in its totality and in its origin, the

history of the affair of Spain, repeating many things which have been

already noticed.

“The Court and the reigning family,” said the Emperor, "were split into

two parties. The one was that of the monarch, blindly governed by his

favourite, the Prince of the Peace, who had constituted himself the real

king; the other was that of the heir presumptive, headed by his

preceptor, Escoiquiz, who aspired to the government. These two parties

were equally desirous of my support, and made me the most flattering

promises. I was, no doubt, determined to derive every possible advantage

from their situation.

"The favourite, in order to continue in office, as well as to shelter

himself from the vengeance of the son, in case of the father’s death,

offered me, in the name of Charles IV. to effect, in concert, the

conquest of Portugal, reserving as an asylum for himself, the

sovereignty of the Algarves.

"On the other hand, the prince of the Asturias wrote to me privately,

without his father’s knowledge, soliciting a wife of my choice, and

imploring my protection.

"I concluded an agreement with the former, and returned no answer to the

latter. My troops were already admitted into the Peninsula, when the son

took advantage of a commotion to make his father abdicate and to reign

in his place.

"It has been foolishly imputed to me, that I took part in all these

intrigues, but so far was I from having any knowledge of them, that the

last event, in particular, disconcerted all my projects with the father,

in consequence of which my troops were already in the heart of Spain.

The two parties were aware, from that moment, that I could and ought to

be the arbiter between them. The dethroned monarch and the son had

recourse to me, the one for the purpose of obtaining vengeance, and the

other, for the purpose of being recognised. They both hastened to plead

their cause before me, and they were urged on by their respective

councillors, those very persons who absolutely governed them, and who

saw no means of preserving their own lives but by throwing themselves

into my arms.

"The Prince of the Peace, who had narrowly escaped being murdered,

easily persuaded Charles IV. and his queen to undertake the journey, as

they had themselves been in danger of falling victims to the fury of the

multitude.

“On his part, the preceptor Escoiquiz, the real author of all the

calamities of Spain, alarmed at seeing Charles IV. protest against his

abdication, and in dread of the scaffold, unless his pupil triumphed,

exerted every means to influence the young King. This Canon, who had

besides a very high opinion of his own talents, did not despair of

making an impression on my decisions by his arguments, and of inducing

me to acknowledge Ferdinand, making me a tender, on his own account, of

his services to govern, altogether under my control, as effectually as

the Prince of the Peace could, in the name of Charles IV. And it must be

owned,” said the Emperor, "that, had I listened to several of his

reasons, and adopted some of his ideas, it had been much better for me.

"When I had them all assembled at Bayonne, I felt a confidence in my

political system, to which I never before had the presumption to aspire.

I had not made my combinations, but I took advantage of the moment. I

here found the Gordian knot before me, and I cut it. I proposed to

Charles IV. and the Queen, to resign the crown of Spain to me, and to

live quietly in France. They agreed, I may say, almost with joy, to the

proposal, so inveterately were they exasperated against their son, and

so earnestly did they and their favourite wish to enjoy, for the future,

tranquillity and safety. The Prince of the Asturias made no

extraordinary resistance to the plan, but neither violence nor threats

were employed against him; and if he was influenced by fear, which I am

very willing to believe, that could only be his concern.

"There you have in very few words, the complete historical sketch of the

affair of Spain; whatever may be said, or written on it must amount to

that; and you see that there could be no occasion for me to have

recourse to paltry tricks, to falsehoods, to breaches of faith, or

violation of engagements. In order to establish my guilt, it would be

necessary to shew my inclination to degrade myself gratuitously; but of

that propensity I have never furnished an instance.

"For the rest, the instant my decision was known, the crowd of

intriguers who swarm in every court, and even those among them who had

been the most active in producing the misfortunes of their country,

strove to curry favour with Joseph, as they had done with Charles IV.

and Ferdinand VII. They watched, with extraordinary diligence, the

progress of events, and changed sides at a later period, in proportion

as difficulties encreased, and our disasters approached. They pursued

the plan so successfully, that they are the persons, who, at this

moment, govern Ferdinand. And, what is truly horrible, the better to

secure their influence, they did not hesitate to impute whatever was

odious and criminal in past calamities, to the mass of _simpletons_,

whom they proscribed and banished;—of those men naturally well-disposed,

and who, in principle, decidedly blamed Ferdinand’s journey. Of this

latter class, several who opposed the journey afterwards took the oath

of allegiance to Joseph, who seemed then to be identified with the

happiness and tranquillity of their country, and continued faithful to

him, until the grand catastrophe that drove him from the throne.

“It would be difficult to accumulate a greater mass of impudence and

baseness than that exhibited by all those intriguers, the principal

performers in that grand scene, which, by the way, extenuates the

degradation to which similar acts of vileness have reduced France in the

eyes of Europe. It is evident, that they do not belong to her

exclusively. Intriguing, ambitious, rapacious men, are every where to be

found, and are every where the same. Individuals alone are guilty;

nations cannot incur the responsibility. Their only disadvantage arises

from their being forced to witness these misdeeds. Unhappy the country

which becomes the scene of them!”

At present, the affair of Spain is perfectly known, thanks to the

writings of the principal actors, the canon Escoiquiz, the minister

Cevallos, and others, but above all, to those of the worthy and

respectable M. Llorente, who, under the anagrammatic signature of

Nellerto, has published the Memoirs of that time, sanctioned by all the

official documents. The opposite contradictions of the two first, their

mutual disputes, the assertions and denials of their contemporaries,

have reduced their writings to their real value, by stripping them of

whatever was erroneous, false, or even fabricated. The result is, that

in the opinion of every cool and impartial judge, they all concur, even

involuntarily, in confirming the justificatory assertions advanced by

Napoleon; not but that they display that difference which must

inevitably arise from the diversity of party-interests; but solely

because neither of them actually establishes the grounds of positive

crimination, nor furnishes any official document by which it can be

proved, while all those which exist attest and establish the contrary.

It may also be remarked in the history of those transactions, which must

now be considered as genuine, that England herself was altogether a

stranger to them, at least with respect to their origin, a fact which

was far from Napoleon’s way of thinking, who charged the English at the

time with being the first cause of all the intrigues, and who still

persevered in the accusation at St. Helena: so accustomed was he to

discover them at the bottom of every plot formed against him.

With respect to this affair of Spain, I have further to notice a letter

from the Emperor, which throws more light upon the subject than volumes.

It is admirable, and the events which followed stamp it as a

masterpiece. It exhibits the rapidity, the eagle-eyed view, with which

Napoleon formed his opinion of men and things.

Unfortunately, it also shews how much the execution of the inferiors,

employed during the greater part of the time, destroyed the finest and

most exalted conceptions; and in that point of view this letter remains

a very precious document for history. Its date renders it prophetic.

“29th March, 1808.

“Monsieur le Grand Duc de Berg—I am afraid lest you should deceive me

with respect to the situation of Spain, and lest you should also deceive

yourself. Events have been singularly complicated by the transaction of

the 20th of March. I find myself very much perplexed.

“_Do not believe that you are about to attack a disarmed nation, and

that you can, by a mere parade of your troops, effect the subjugation of

Spain._ The revolution of the 20th of March proves, that the Spaniards

possess energy. You have to contend with a new people; it has all the

courage, and will display all the enthusiasm shewn by men, who are not

worn out by political passions.

“The aristocracy and the clergy are the masters of Spain. If their

privileges and existence be threatened, they will bring into the field

against us levies en masse, that may perpetuate the war. I am not

without my partisans; but if I shew myself as a conqueror they will

abandon me.

“The Prince of the Peace is detested, because he is accused of having

betrayed Spain to France. This is the grievance which has assisted

Ferdinand’s usurpation. The popular is the weakest party.

“The Prince of the Asturias does not possess a single quality requisite

for the head of a nation. That will not prevent his being ranked as a

hero, in order that he may be opposed to us. I will have no violence

employed against the personages of this family. It can never answer any

purpose to excite hatred and inflame animosity. Spain has a hundred

thousand men under arms, more than are necessary to carry on an internal

war with advantage. Scattered over several parts of the country, they

may serve as rallying points for a total insurrection of the monarchy.

“I lay before you all the obstacles which must inevitably happen. There

are others of which you must be aware. England will not allow the

opportunity to escape her without multiplying our embarrassments. She

daily sends packet-boats to the forces, which she maintains on the

coasts of Portugal and in the Mediterranean; and she enlists in her

service Sicilians and Portuguese.

“The Royal Family not having left Spain for the purpose of establishing

itself in its American colonies, the state of the country can be changed

only by a revolution. It is, perhaps, of all others in Europe, that

which is the least prepared for one. Those who perceive the monstrous

defects of that government, and the anarchy which has been substituted

for the legitimate authority, are the fewest in number. Those defects

and that anarchy are converted to their own advantage by the greatest

number.

“I can, consistently with the interests of my empire, do a great deal of

good to Spain. What are the best means to be adopted?

“Shall I go to Madrid? Shall I take upon myself the office of Grand

Protector in deciding between the father and the son? It seems to me a

matter of difficulty to support Charles IV. on the throne. His

government and his favourite are so very unpopular, that they could not

maintain themselves for three months.

“Ferdinand is the enemy of France, and to that consideration he has been

indebted for the crown. His elevation to the throne would be favourable

to the factions, which for five-and-twenty years have longed for the

destruction of France. A family alliance would be but a feeble tie.

_Queen Elizabeth and other French princesses_ perished miserably when

they could be immolated with impunity to the atrocious spirit of

vengeance. My opinion is, that nothing should be hurried on, and that

our measures ought to be regulated by events as they occur. It will be

necessary to strengthen the _corps d’armée_ which will be stationed on

the frontiers of Portugal, and wait....

“I do not approve of your Imperial Highness’s conduct in so

precipitately making yourself master of Madrid. The army ought to have

been kept ten leagues from the capital. You had no assurance that the

people and the magistracy were about to recognise Ferdinand, without a

struggle. The Prince of the Peace must, of course, have partisans among

those employed in the public service; there is also an habitual

attachment to the old King, which might lead to unpleasant consequences.

Your entrance into Madrid, by alarming the Spaniards, has powerfully

assisted Ferdinand. I have ordered Savary to attend the new King, and

observe what passes. He will concert matters with your Imperial

Highness. I shall hereafter decide upon the measures necessary to be

pursued. In the mean time, I think it proper to prescribe the following

line of conduct to you:

“You will not pledge me to an interview, _in Spain_, with Ferdinand,

unless you consider the state of things to be such that I ought to

recognise him King of Spain. You will behave with attention and respect

to the King, the Queen, and Prince Godoy. You will require for them, and

pay them, the same honours as formerly. You will manage matters so as to

prevent the Spaniards from entertaining any suspicions of the course I

shall pursue. You will find no difficulty in this, as I know nothing

about it myself.

“You will make the nobility and clergy understand that, if the

interference of France be requisite in the affairs of Spain, their

privileges and immunities shall be respected. You will assure them that

the Emperor wishes for the improvement of the political institutions of

Spain, in order to place her in a relative state to that of civilized

Europe, and to deliver her from the administration of favouritism. You

will tell the magistrates and the inhabitants of the towns and the

enlightened classes, that the machine of the government needs

reconstructing, that Spain wants a system of laws calculated for the

protection of the people against the tyranny and usurpations of

feudality, and of establishments which may revive industry, agriculture,

and the arts. You will describe to them the state of tranquillity and

ease enjoyed by France, notwithstanding the wars in which she has been

constantly involved, and the splendour of religion, which owes its

establishment to the Concordat I have signed with the Pope. You will

explain to them the advantages which they may derive from political

regeneration—order and peace at home, respect and influence abroad. Such

should be the spirit of your conversation and your letters. Do not

hazard any thing hastily. I can wait at Bayonne, I can cross the

Pyrenees, and, strengthening myself towards Portugal, I can go and

conduct the war in that quarter.

“I shall take care of your particular interests, do not think of them

yourself. Portugal will be at my disposal. Let no powerful object engage

you and influence your conduct; that would be injurious to me, and would

be still more hurtful to yourself.

“You are too hasty in your instructions of the 14th; the march you order

General Dupont to take is too rapid, on account of the event of the 19th

of March. They must be altered; you will make new arrangements; you will

receive instructions from my Minister for Foreign Affairs.

“I enjoin the maintenance of the strictest discipline; the slightest

faults must not go unpunished. The inhabitants must be treated with the

greatest attention. Above all, the churches and convents must be

respected.

“The army must avoid all misunderstanding with the corps and detachments

of the Spanish army; there must not be a single flash in the pan on

either side.

“Let Solano march beyond Badajos, but watch his movements. Do you

yourself trace out the marches of my army, that it may be always kept at

a distance of several leagues from the Spanish corps. Should hostilities

take place, all would be lost.

“The fate of Spain can alone be decided by political views and by

negociation. I charge you to avoid all explanation with Solano, as well

as with the other Spanish generals and governors. You will send me two

expresses daily. In case of events of superior interest, you will

despatch orderly officers. You will immediately send back the

Chamberlain de T——, the bearer of this despatch, and give him a detailed

report.

“I pray God, M. le Grand Duc de Berg, &c.

(Signed) "NAPOLEON.”

June 15th.—The weather was superb; we took an airing in our calash, and

observed very near the shore a large vessel, which seemed to manœuvre

in a singular manner. We took her from her appearance to be the

Newcastle, which had been for some time expected to relieve the

Northumberland; but she was only one of the Company’s ships.

During part of the day, the Emperor, after running over a great number

of topics, came at length to mention several persons who, were they at

liberty, he said, would join him at St. Helena, and he undertook to

explain the motives by which they might be influenced. From this

subject, he was led to touch upon the motives of those who were about

him. “Bertrand,” said he, "is henceforth identified with my fate. It is

an historical fact. Gourgaud was my first orderly officer, he is my own

work, he is my child. Montholon is Semonville’s son, brother-in-law to

Joubert, a child of the revolution and of camps. But you, my good

friend," said he to the fourth, “you,” and after a moment’s thought, he

resumed; “you, my good friend, let us know by what extraordinary chance

you find yourself here?” The answer was, “Sire, by the influence of my

happy stars, and for the honour of the emigrants.”

ARTICLES SENT FROM ENGLAND.—THE EMPEROR’s DETERMINATION TO PROHIBIT THE

USE OF COTTON IN FRANCE.—THE CONFERENCES OF TILSIT.—THE QUEEN OF

PRUSSIA.—THE KING.—THE EMPEROR ALEXANDER.—ANECDOTES, &C.

June 16th.—The weather was delightful; the Emperor entered my apartment

about ten o’clock. I was employed in dressing myself, and also in

dictating my Journal to my son. The Emperor cast his eye over it for a

few instants, and said nothing; he left it to look at some drawings.

They were topographical sketches, executed with the pen, of some of the

battles in Italy, by my son, and we felt pleasure in reserving them as

an agreeable surprise for the Emperor. We had, until then, been employed

upon them in secret.

I followed the Emperor to the garden; he talked a great deal on the

articles that had been just sent to us from England, and which chiefly

consisted of furniture. He exposed the ill-grace and awkwardness of

those who had been employed to deliver them to us. He observed that, in

presenting even what would have been most agreeable to us, they found

means to hurt our feelings. He was on that account determined not to

make use of them, and he declined accepting two fowling-pieces, which

were particularly intended for him. The Emperor breakfasted in the open

air, and we were all invited to his table.

The conversation turning on fashions and dress, the Emperor said that,

at one period, he had resolved to prohibit the use of cotton in France,

for the more effectual encouragement of the lawn and cambric trade of

our towns in Flanders. The Empress Josephine was shocked at the idea,

which she decidedly opposed, and it was given up.

The Emperor was in a happy humour for conversation, and the weather was

very mild and tolerably pleasant. He began walking in the kind of alley

which runs perpendicularly in front of the house. The conversation

turned on the celebrated epoch of Tilsit, and the following are the

interesting particulars which I collected.

The Emperor remarked, that, had the Queen of Prussia arrived at the

commencement of the negociations, she might have exercised considerable

influence with respect to the result. Happily, she arrived when they

were sufficiently advanced to enable the Emperor to decide upon their

conclusion four-and-twenty hours afterwards. The King, it was thought,

had prevented her early appearance, in consequence of a rising jealousy

against a great personage, which was confidently stated, said the

Emperor, “not to have been destitute of some slight ground.”

The moment of her arrival, the Emperor paid her a visit. “The Queen of

Prussia,” said he, “had been very beautiful, but she was beginning to

lose some of the charms of her youth.”

The Emperor declared, that the Queen received him like Mademoiselle

Duchesnois in the character of Chimene, thrown back into a grand

attitude, demanding, calling aloud for, _justice_. In short, it was

altogether a theatrical scene: the representation was truly tragic. He

was unable to speak for an instant, and thought the only way of

extricating himself was that of bringing back the business to the tone

of regular comedy, which he attempted by presenting her with a chair,

and gently forcing her to be seated. She proceeded, nevertheless, in the

most pathetic tone. “Prussia,” she exclaimed, “had been blinded with

respect to her power;—she had dared to contend with a hero, to oppose

herself to the destinies of France, to neglect his auspicious

friendship; she was deservedly punished for it. The glory of the great

Frederic, his memory, and his inheritance had puffed up the pride of

Prussia, and had caused her ruin!” She solicited, supplicated, implored.

Magdeburg, in particular, was the object of her efforts and wishes. The

Emperor kept his ground as well as he could. Fortunately, the husband

made his appearance. The Queen reproved, with an expressive look, the

unseasonable interruption, and shewed some pettishness. In fact, the

King attempted to take part in the conversation, spoiled the whole

affair, “and I was,” said the Emperor, “set at liberty.”

The Emperor entertained the Queen at dinner. She played off, said he,

all her wit against me; she had a great deal; all her manners, which

were very fascinating; all her coquetry; she was not without charms.

“But I was determined not to yield. I found it necessary, however, to

keep a great command over myself, that I might continue exempt from all

kind of engagement, and every expression, which might be taken in a

doubtful sense, and the more so, because I was carefully watched, and

particularly by Alexander.” Just before sitting down to dinner Napoleon

took from a flower-stand a very beautiful rose, which he presented to

the Queen. She at first expressed by the motion of her hand a kind of

prepared refusal; but suddenly recollecting herself, she said; _Yes, but

at least with Magdeburg_. The Emperor replied, “But ... I must observe

to your Majesty, that it is I who present, and you, who are about to

receive it.” The dinner and the remainder of the time passed over in

that manner.

The Queen was seated at table between the two Emperors, who rivalled

each other in gallantry. She was placed near Alexander’s best ear; with

one he can scarcely hear at all. The evening came, and, the Queen having

retired, the Emperor, who had shown the most engaging attentions to his

guests, but, who had at the same time, been often driven to an

extremity, resolved to come to a point. He sent for M. de Talleyrand,

and Prince Kourakin, talked big to them, and letting fly, continued he,

some hard words, observed, that, after all, a woman and a piece of

gallantry ought not to alter a system conceived for the destiny of a

great people, and that he insisted upon the immediate conclusion of the

negociations, and the signing of the treaty; which took place according

to his orders. “Thus,” said he, "the Queen of Prussia’s conversation

advanced the treaty by a week or a fortnight."

The Queen was preparing to renew her attacks the next day, and was

indignant when she heard that the treaty was signed. She wept a great

deal, and determined to see the Emperor Napoleon no more. She would not

accept a second invitation to dinner. Alexander was himself obliged to

prevail upon her. She complained most bitterly, and maintained, that

Napoleon had broken his word. But Alexander had been always present. He

had even been a dangerous witness, ready to give evidence of the

slightest action or word on the part of Napoleon in her favour. “He has

made you no promise,” was his observation to her; “if you can prove the

contrary, I here pledge myself, as between man and man, to make him keep

his promise, and he will do so, I am convinced.”—"But he has given me to

understand," said she, ... “No,” replied Alexander, “and you have

nothing to reproach him with.” She came at length. Napoleon, who had no

longer any occasion to be on his guard against her, redoubled his

attentions. She played off, for a few moments, the airs of an offended

coquette, and when the dinner was over, and she was about to retire,

Napoleon presented his hand, and conducted her to the middle of the

staircase, where he stopped. She squeezed his hand, and said with a kind

of tenderness; “Is it possible, that after having had the honour of

being so near to the hero of the century and of history, he will not

leave me the power and satisfaction of being enabled to assure him, that

he has attached me to him for life?”—"Madam," replied the Emperor in a

serious tone, “I am to be pitied; it is the result of my unhappy stars.”

He then took leave of her. When she reached her carriage, she threw

herself into it in tears; sent for Duroc, whom she highly esteemed,

renewed all her complaints to him, and said, pointing to the palace;

“There is a place in which I have been cruelly deceived!”

“The Queen of Prussia,” said the Emperor, “was unquestionably gifted

with many happy resources; she possessed a great deal of information and

had many excellent capabilities. It was she who really reigned for more

than fifteen years. She also, in spite of my dexterity and all my

exertions, took the lead in conversation, and constantly maintained the

ascendancy. She touched, perhaps, too often upon her favourite topic,

but she did so, however, with great plausibility and without giving the

slightest cause of uneasiness. It must be confessed that she had an

important object in view, and that the time was short and precious.”

“One of the high contracting parties,” said the Emperor, “had frequently

assured her, that she ought to have come in the beginning or not at all,

and observed that, for his part, he had done every thing in his power to

induce her to come at once. It was suspected,” continued the Emperor,

“that he had a personal motive to gratify by her coming; but, on the

other hand, the husband had a motive equally personal in opposing it.”

Napoleon believed him to have been very kind and a sincere friend in the

business.

“The king of Prussia,” said the Emperor, "had requested his audience of

leave on that very day, but I postponed it for four-and-twenty hours, at

the secret entreaty of Alexander. The king of Prussia never forgave me

for putting off that audience; so clearly did it seem to him, that Royal

Majesty was insulted by my refusal.

“Another heavy charge against me, and of which he has never been able to

divest his feelings, was that of having violated, as he said, his

territory of Anspach in our campaign of Austerlitz. In all our

subsequent interviews, however important the subjects of our discussion,

he laid them all aside for the purpose of proving that I had really

violated his territory of Anspach. He was wrong; but in short, it was

his conviction, and his resentment was that of an honest man. His wife,

however, was vexed at it, and wished him to pursue a higher system of

politics.”

Napoleon reproached himself with a real fault, in allowing the king of

Prussia’s presence at Tilsit. His first determination was to prevent his

coming. He would then have been less bound to shew any attention to his

interests. He might have kept Silesia, he might have aggrandized Saxony

with it, and have probably reserved for himself a different kind of

destiny. He further remarked: “I learn, that the politicians of the

present day find great fault with my treaty of Tilsit; they have

discovered, that I had, by that means, placed Europe at the mercy of the

Russians; but if I had succeeded at Moscow, and it is now known how very

near I was, they would, no doubt, have admired us for having, on the

contrary, by that treaty, placed the Russians at the mercy of Europe. I

entertained great designs with respect to the Germans.... But I failed,

and therefore I was wrong. This is according to every rule of

justice....”

Almost every day, at Tilsit, the two Emperors and the King rode out on

horseback together, but, said Napoleon, “the latter was always awkward

and unlucky.” The Prussians were visibly mortified by it. Napoleon was

constantly between the two sovereigns; but either the King fell behind,

or jostled and incommoded Napoleon. He shewed the same awkwardness on

their return: the two Emperors dismounted in an instant, and took each

other by the hand to go up stairs together. But, as the honours were

done by Napoleon, he could not enter without first seeing the King pass.

It was sometimes necessary to wait for him a long time, and, as the

weather was often rainy, it happened that the two Emperors got wet on

the king’s account, to the great dissatisfaction of all the spectators.

“This awkwardness,” said the Emperor, “was the more glaring, as

Alexander possesses all the graces, and is equal, in elegance of

manners, to the most polished and amiable ornaments of our Parisian

drawing-rooms. The latter was at times so tired of his companion, who

seemed lost in his own vexations, or in something else, that we mutually

agreed on breaking up our common meeting to get rid of him. We separated

immediately after dinner, under the pretence of some particular

business; but Alexander and I met shortly afterwards, to take tea with

one another, and we then continued in conversation until midnight, and

even beyond it.”

Alexander and Napoleon met again some time after at Erfurt, and

exchanged the most striking testimonies of affection. Alexander

expressed with earnestness the sentiments of tender friendship and real

admiration which he entertained for Napoleon. They passed some days

together in the enjoyment of the charms of perfect intimacy and of the

most familiar communications of private life. “We were,” said the

Emperor, “two young men of quality, who, in their common pleasures, had

no secret from each other.”

Napoleon had sent for the most distinguished performers of the French

Theatre. A celebrated actress, Mademoiselle B——, attracted the attention

of his guest, who had a momentary fancy to get acquainted with her. He

asked his companion whether any inconvenience was likely to be the

result. “None,” answered the latter; “only,” added he, intentionally,

“it is a certain and rapid mode of making yourself known to all Paris.

After to-morrow, post-day, the most minute details will be dispatched,

and in a short time, not a statuary at Paris but will be qualified to

give a model of your person from head to foot.” The danger of such a

kind of publicity appeased the monarch’s rising passion; “for,” observed

Napoleon, “he was very circumspect with regard to that point, and he

recollected no doubt the old adage, When the mask falls, the hero

disappears.”

The Emperor assured us that, had it been his wish, Alexander would

certainly have given him his sister in marriage; his politics would have

dictated the match, even had his inclination been against it. He was

petrified when he heard of the marriage with Austria, and

exclaimed—"This consigns me to my native forests." If he seemed to

shuffle at first, it was because some time was necessary to enable him

to come to a decision. His sister was very young, and the consent of his

mother was requisite. This was settled by Paul’s will, and the

Empress-mother was one of Napoleon’s bitterest enemies. She believed all

the absurdities, all the ridiculous stories, which had been circulated

concerning him. “How,” she exclaimed, "can I give my daughter to a man

who is unfit to be any woman’s husband? Shall another man take

possession of my daughter’s bed, if it be necessary, that she should

have children? She is not formed for such a fate."—"Mother," said

Alexander, “can you be so credulous as to believe the calumnies of

London and the insinuations of the saloons of Paris? If that be the only

difficulty, if it be that alone which gives you pain, I answer for him,

and many others have it in their power to answer for him with me.”

"If Alexander’s affection for me was sincere," said the Emperor, “it was

alienated from me by the force of intrigue. Certain persons, M——, or

others, at the instigation of T——, lost no seasonable opportunity of

mentioning instances of my turning him into ridicule, and they assured

him, that at Tilsit and Erfurt, he no sooner turned his back than I took

the opportunity of laughing at his expense. Alexander is very

susceptible, and they must have easily soured his mind. It is certain,

that he made bitter complaints of it at Vienna during the congress, and

yet nothing was more false; he pleased me, and I loved him.”

S——, one of Napoleon’s aides-de-camp, was sent immediately after the

treaty of Tilsit to Alexander at Petersburg, and was loaded with

favours. The efforts and liberality of Alexander were inexhaustible to

render himself agreeable to his new ally.

This same aide-de-camp became afterwards minister of the police, and in

1814, soon after the restoration, he is said to have made a striking

allusion to his mission in Russia. A person deeply in the confidence of

the King, addressing him at the Tuileries, in a manner altogether

careless and unreserved, said, “Now that all is over, you may speak out;

pray, who was your agent at Hartwell?” (This was, as every one knows,

the residence of Louis XVIII. in England.) S——, astonished at the want

of delicacy evinced by M. de B——, answered with dignity:—"M. le Comte,

the Emperor considered the asylum of kings as an inviolable sanctuary.

It was a principle which he impressed upon his police and we adhered to

it. We have since learnt, that the same conduct was not observed with

respect to him. But you, Sir, should entertain less doubt upon the

subject than any other person. When I arrived at Petersburg, you were

there on the part of the king. The Emperor Alexander, in the first

warmth of his reconciliation, acquainted me with every thing that

concerned you, and asked me whether it was the wish of my government

that you should be ordered to leave his dominions. I had received no

instructions upon that head. I wrote for them to the Emperor. His answer

was, by return of courier, that he was satisfied with the sincere

friendship of Alexander; that he would never interfere in his private

arrangements; that he entertained no personal hatred against the

Bourbons; and that, if he believed it were possible for them to accept

it, he would offer them an asylum in France, and any royal residence,

which might be agreeable to them. If you were then ignorant of these

instructions, you will, no doubt, find them among the papers of the

foreign office."

ARRIVAL OF THE FOREIGN COMMISSIONERS.—FORCED ETIQUETTE OF

NAPOLEON.—ANECDOTES.—COUNCIL OF STATE; DETAILS RESPECTING THE

PLACE OF MEETING, CUSTOMS, &C.—NOTICE OF SOME SITTINGS;

DIGRESSION.—GASSENDI.—THE CROAT REGIMENT.—AMBASSADORS.—THE

NATIONAL GUARD.—THE UNIVERSITY, &C.

17th of June.—The Emperor went out early in the morning. He ordered his

calash for the purpose of taking a ride before breakfast. When he was

stepping into it, we were informed, that the Newcastle man of war and

the Orontes frigate were tacking to enter the port. These two vessels

had overshot the island in the night, and were obliged to work to

windward. They sailed from England on the 23rd of April and brought the

bill respecting the Emperor’s detention. The English legislature had

sanctioned by law the determination of ministers on that subject. The

Commissioners of Austria, France and Russia were on board these vessels.

In the course of the day, the Emperor, speaking of the forms and

costumes which he had established, and of the etiquette which he had

introduced, said, “I found it a very difficult thing to give myself up

to my own inclinations. I started into public notice from the multitude.

Necessity compelled me to observe a degree of state; to adopt a certain

system of solemnity; in a word, to establish an etiquette. I should

otherwise have been every day liable to be slapped upon the shoulder. In

France, we are naturally inclined to a misplaced familiarity, and I had

to guard myself particularly against those who had at once, without any

preparatory study, become men of education. We become courtiers very

easily; we are very obsequious in the outset, and addicted to flattery

and adulation: but unless it be repressed, a certain familiarity soon

takes place, which might with great facility be carried as far as

influence. It is well known that our kings were not exempt from this

inconvenience.” Here the Emperor alluded to a very characteristic

anecdote of the time of Louis XIV.—that of the courtier, of the number

of whose children that prince enquired at his levee. “Four, Sire,” was

the reply. The king, having occasion to speak to him two or three times

in public during the day, put precisely the same question to him, “Pray,

Sir, how many children have you?” The answer was uniformly the same;

“Four, Sire.” At length, as the King was at play in the evening, he

repeated the usual question. “How many children have you?”—“Six, Sire.”

“How the plague can that be?” said the king, “for if I recollect right,

you told me you had but four.”—“Really, Sire, I was afraid of fatiguing

you with the constant repetition of the same thing.”

"“Sire,” observed one of the company to the Emperor, "I can mention an

anecdote of a neighbouring country, worthy of that which we have just

heard, and which may enable us to compare the gratuitous insolence of an

absolute monarch’s courtier with the open resentment of a man, who has

nothing to fear from his constitutional sovereign.

"A person moving in the circles of high life in London, had to complain

of a great personage, by whom he had been very ill-used, and pledged

himself to his friends to have ostensible satisfaction. Having learnt

that the great personage was to honour a very brilliant party with his

presence, he attended himself at an early hour and placed himself near

the lady of the house. The great personage had paid his respects to the

lady, and, after the customary compliments, being about to join the rest

of the company, he had scarcely turned round, before the offended

person, leaning carelessly towards her, said, with a loud voice, “Who is

your fat friend?” The lady reddened, touched him with her elbow, and

whispered; "Hold your tongue, I beg, don’t you see it is the Prince?"

The gentleman replied, in a higher tone than before;—"How, the

Prince!—Well, upon my honour, he is grown as fat as a pig."

Every one is at liberty to decide upon the relative demerits of these

two insolent characters. Both are, no doubt, very blameable, and if

there be less coarseness in the conduct of our countryman, it must also

be allowed, that his impertinence is altogether without an object and

purely gratuitous.

During another part of the day, the Emperor conversed at great length on

the sittings of the Council of State. I had pointed out some, and of

others we had but a doubtful recollection; or they had altogether

slipped our memory. “Well,” said he, “in a short time, scarcely a trace

of them will be left behind.” Being unable to sleep that night, I

thought of these words, and endeavoured to recollect, as minutely as I

could, every thing I was acquainted with respecting the Council of

State;—the seat of its meetings, its usages, forms, &c.; and I do not

think I can better employ the leisure of our solitude at St. Helena,

than by giving an account of them here. I shall occasionally add what I

may recollect of the sittings at which I was present. There are persons

to whom these details will not be destitute of interest.

The hall of the Council of State, in the Tuileries, the place where the

sittings were usually held, was on the same side with, and of the entire

length of, the chapel. In the partition wall were several large doors,

which being thrown open on Sundays, formed passages to the chapel. It

was a fine oblong apartment. At one of its extremities, towards the

interior of the palace, was a large and beautiful door, by which the

Emperor entered, when, attended by his Court, he proceeded on Sunday to

hear mass. It was only opened the rest of the week for the Emperor, when

he went to his Council of State. The members of the Council entered only

by two small doors, contrived for that purpose in the opposite

extremity.

A row of tables, which occupied the whole length of the hall, on the

right and left, was arranged there only when the council assembled, and

the space left was sufficient to admit of seats within near the wall,

and of a free passage without. There sat the Councillors of State, in

their respective order of precedence; their places were, besides,

designated by portfolios, bearing their names, and containing their

papers. At the extremity of the hall, towards the grand entrance, and

across the two rows, were placed similar tables for the Masters of

Requests. The Auditors were seated on stools or chairs, behind the

Councillors of State.

At the upper extremity of the hall, opposite to the grand entrance, was

the Emperor’s place on an elevation of one or two steps. There was his

arm chair, and a small table covered with a piece of rich tapestry, and

furnished with all the necessary articles, with paper, pens, ink,

penknives, and which were also laid before the Members of the Council.

At the right of the Emperor, but below, and on a level with us, was the

Prince Arch-chancellor, with a separate small table; on his left, the

Prince Arch-treasurer, who attended very seldom; and finally, at the

left of the latter, M. Locre, who drew up the official account of the

proceedings.

When any princes of the family happened to be present, a similar table

was placed for them on the same line, and according to their respective

rank. If any of the ministers were present, and they were all at liberty

to attend whenever they pleased, they took their places at the side

tables, at the head of the councillors of state. The enclosed space was

vacant, and none ever passed through it, but the Emperor, or the Members

of the Council, when proceeding to take the oath of allegiance to him.

The ushers moved silently about the hall, for the service of the

members, even during the deliberations of the Council. The members left

their places whenever they pleased, to obtain from their colleagues any

particular documents of which they might be in want, or for any other

purpose.

The upper compartments of the hall displayed allegorical paintings,

relative to the functions of the Council of State, such as Justice,

Commerce, Industry, &c. and the ceiling was decorated with the beautiful

picture of the battle of Austerlitz, by Gros. Thus, under one of the

most glorious laurels with which he ennobled France, did Napoleon

preside over its internal administration.

It was in that place that for nearly eighteen months I enjoyed the

inestimable advantage, the unparalleled satisfaction, of attending twice

a week sittings so interesting by their special objects, and rendered

still more so by the constant presence of the Emperor, who seemed to be

the soul and life of the deliberations. It was there that I have seen

him protract the discussions from eleven in the morning until nine at

night, and display at the conclusion as much activity, copiousness, and

freshness of mind and understanding as he did in the beginning, while we

were ready to sink with weariness and fatigue.

While the court was at St. Cloud the council was held there, but when

the sitting was to take place at too early an hour, or it was likely to

last long, the Emperor adjourned the proceedings until the members could

take some refreshment, which was served up in the adjacent apartment, on

small tables most magnificently supplied, as if by enchantment. I may

truly say, that it would be impossible to give a just idea of the

fascinations we witnessed in every thing belonging to the Imperial

palaces.

The hour of the Council’s sitting was regularly noticed in our letters

of convocation, but the hour was generally eleven.

When a sufficient number of members was present, the

Arch-Chancellor[note previously in text Arch-chancellor p2], who was

always there the first, and who presided in the Emperor’s absence,

opened the sitting, and called the attention of the Council to what was

then called the _little order of the day_, and which solely embraced

simple matters of a local nature and of mere form.

About an hour later, in general, the beating of the drum in the interior

of the Palace announced the Emperor’s arrival. The grand entrance was

thrown open; his Majesty was announced; all the Council rose, and the

Emperor appeared, preceded by his Chamberlain and his Aide-de-Camp on

duty, who presented his chair, received his hat, and continued behind

him during the sitting, ready to receive and execute his orders.

The Arch-Chancellor then presented to the Emperor the _great order of

the day_, which contained the series of objects under deliberation. The

Emperor read them over, and pointed out in a distinct tone that which he

wished to have discussed. The Councillor of State, nominated for the

purpose, read his report, and the deliberations commenced.

Every member was at liberty to speak; if several rose at the same time,

the order of precedence was regulated by the Emperor. The members spoke

from their places sitting. No written speeches were allowed to be read;

it was requisite that they should be made extemporaneously. When the

Emperor thought the question, in which he usually took no inconsiderable

share himself, sufficiently discussed, he made a summary of the

arguments, which was always luminous, and frequently marked with novelty

and point, came to a conclusion, and put it to the vote.

I have already noticed the freedom enjoyed in these debates. The

animation of the speakers, increasing by degrees, became sometimes

excessive, and the discussion was often protracted beyond measure,

particularly when the Emperor, occupied probably with some other

subject, seemed, either from distraction or something else, to be

altogether ignorant of what was going on. He then commonly cast a vacant

look over the hall, cut pencils with his penknife, pricked the cover of

his table or the arm of his chair with the point of it, or employed his

pencil or pen in scrawling whimsical marks or sketches, which, after he

was gone, excited the covetous attention of the young members, who made

a kind of scramble for them; and it was curious to observe, when he

happened to have traced the name of some country or capital, the

hyperbolical inferences that were sought to be extracted from it.

Sometimes too, when the Emperor entered the Council, as soon as his

dinner was ended, and after having undergone great fatigue during the

morning, he would fold his arms upon the table, lay down his head and

fall asleep. The Arch-Chancellor proceeded with the deliberations, which

were continued without interruption, and the Emperor, on awaking,

immediately caught up the thread of the discussion, though the previous

subject might have been ended and another introduced. The Emperor often

asked for a glass of water and sugar; and a table in the adjoining room

was always laid out with refreshments for his use, without any

precautions being adopted as to the individuals who were permitted to

approach it.

The Emperor, it is well known, was in the habit of taking snuff almost

every minute: this was a sort of mania which seized him chiefly during

intervals of abstraction. His snuff-box was speedily emptied; but he

still continued to thrust his fingers into it, or to raise it to his

nose, particularly when he was himself speaking. Those Chamberlains, who

proved themselves most expert and assiduous in the discharge of their

duties, would frequently endeavour, unobserved by the Emperor, to take

away the empty box and substitute a full one in its stead; for there

existed a great competition of attention and courtesy among the

Chamberlains who were habitually employed in services about the

Emperor’s person; an honour which was very much envied. These persons

were, however, seldom changed, either because they intrigued to retain

their places, or because it was naturally most agreeable to the Emperor

to continue them in posts, with the duties of which they were

acquainted. It was the business of the Grand Marshal (Duroc) to make all

these arrangements. The following is an instance of the attentions paid

by the Emperor’s Chamberlains. One of them, having observed that the

Emperor on going to the theatre frequently forgot his opera-glass, of

which he made constant use, got one made exactly like it, so that the

first time he saw the Emperor without his glass, he presented his own to

him, and the difference was not observed. On his return from the

theatre, the Emperor was not a little surprised to find that he had two

glasses exactly alike. Next day, he inquired how the new opera-glass had

made its appearance, and the Chamberlain replied that it was one which

he kept in reserve in case it might be wanted.

The Emperor always shewed himself very sensible of these attentions,

which were innocent in themselves, and which were calculated to make an

impression on the feelings, when dictated only by love and respect; for

then the individual was not acting the part of a slavish courtier, but

that of an affectionate and devoted servant. Napoleon, on his part,

whatever may have been reported to the contrary in the saloons of Paris,

shewed sincere regard for the persons of his household. When he quitted

Paris for St. Cloud, Malmaison, or any other of his country residences,

he usually invited the individuals of his household to his private

evening parties; and thus was formed a pleasant family circle,

admittance to which was held to be a very high honour. When in the

country, he also admitted his Chamberlains to dine at his table. One

day, while at dinner at Trianon, being troubled with a severe cold in

his head, a complaint to which he was very subject, he found himself in

want of a handkerchief; the servants immediately ran to fetch one, but

meanwhile the Chamberlain on duty, who was a relation of Maria Louisa’s,

drew a clean one unfolded from his pocket, and wished to take the other

from the Emperor. “I thank you,” said Napoleon; “but I will never have

it said that I allowed M—— to touch a handkerchief which I had used;”

and he threw it on the ground.

Such was the man who in certain circles was described as being coarse

and brutal, ill treating all his household, and even behaving rudely to

the ladies of the palace! The Emperor, on the contrary, was a scrupulous

observer of decorum. He was very sensible to all the little attentions

he received; and though it was a sort of system with him to suffer no

manifestation of gratitude to escape him, yet the expression of his eye

or the tone of his voice sufficiently denoted what he really felt.

Unlike those whose lips overflow with the expression of sentiments which

their hearts never feel, Napoleon seemed to make it a rule to repress or

disguise the kind emotions by which he was frequently inspired. I

believe I have already mentioned this fact; but the following are some

fresh proofs of it, which recur to me at this moment. These

circumstances are the more characteristic, since they occurred at

Longwood, where Napoleon might have been expected to indulge his natural

feelings with less restraint than during the possession of his power.

I usually sat beside my son, while he wrote from the Emperor’s

dictation. The Emperor always walked about the room when dictating, and

he frequently stood for a moment behind my chair, to look over the

writing, so that he might know where to take up the thread of his

dictation. When in this situation, how many times has my head been

enclosed between his arms, and even slightly pressed to his bosom! Then,

immediately checking himself, he seemed to have been merely leaning with

his elbows upon my shoulders, or playfully bearing all his weight upon

me, as if to try my strength.

The Emperor was very fond of my son, and I have often seen him bestow a

sort of manual caress on him; and then, as it were, to do away with the

effect of this motion, he would immediately accompany it by some words

uttered in a loud and somewhat sharp tone of voice. One day, as he was

entering the drawing-room, in a moment of good-humour and forgetfulness,

I saw him take Madame Bertrand’s hand and affectionately raise it to his

lips; but, suddenly recollecting himself, he turned away, in a manner

that would have had a very awkward effect, had not Madame Bertrand, with

that exquisite grace for which she is so peculiarly distinguished,

removed all embarrassment, by impressing a kiss on the hand that had

been extended to her. But these stories have carried me very far from my

subject. I must return to the Council of State.

All the reports, plans of resolutions, and decrees, which we had to

discuss, were printed and distributed to us at our own houses. There was

one subject, for example, relating to the University, which was perhaps

twenty times drawn up. Others lingered for a length of time in the

portfolios, or were at length totally dropped, without any cause being

assigned.

On my return from my mission to Holland, just after I had been created a

member of the Council of State, I rose to speak on the subject of the

Conscription. I was naturally interested in all that related to naval

affairs; my mind was full of enthusiasm, and was stored with the

observations which I had just collected in Holland. I proposed that all

the Dutch conscripts, in consideration of their natural predilections,

should be permitted, if they chose, to enter the naval service; and

moreover, that the privilege of this choice should be extended to all

the French conscripts. I pointed out the inconveniences which such an

arrangement was calculated to obviate, and developed the advantages

which it was likely to ensure. I observed that it was impossible to

render our seamen too numerous. Our ships’ crews, I said, would thus

become regiments: the same men would at once be sailors and soldiers,

gunners and pontooners; we should obtain double service at the same rate

of pay. My speech had, up to this point, been as favourably received as

I could wish: and in my own mind I congratulated myself on my success;

when on a sudden I lost all power of utterance. The train of my ideas

immediately became disconnected, and I stood mute and confounded,

without knowing where I was or what I was doing. This was the first time

I had ventured to speak; and I had made an extraordinary effort to

surmount my natural diffidence. Profound silence reigned in the

assembly, a hundred eyes were fixed upon me, and I was ready to sink

under the weight of my embarrassment. I had no alternative but to

confess my painful situation, to tell the Emperor, frankly, that I would

rather be in a battle; and finally to ask permission to conclude my

address by reading a few lines from a written paper which I had brought

with me. From that moment, however, I never felt any wish to speak in

the Council of State; I was completely cured of all desire to exert my

eloquence in future. But, in spite of this unfortunate circumstance, my

brief address had attracted the notice of the Emperor; for, a few days

afterwards, the Aid-de-Camp on duty (Count Bertrand), informed me that

the Emperor, while playing at billiards, seeing the Minister of the

Marine enter, said to him:—"Well, Sir, Las Cases read to us, at the

Council, a very good memorial on the composition of the navy; he was not

at all of your opinion respecting the age at which seamen should be

allowed to enter the service."

Every sitting of the Council, at which the Emperor presided, presented

the highest degree of interest, for he never failed to deliver a speech

himself, and all the observations that fell from him were important. I

was always delighted with his speeches: but a circumstance that both

surprised and vexed me was to hear some of the remarks which had fallen

from the Emperor in the course of the day at the Council of State,

repeated and often ill-naturedly perverted in the saloons of Paris in

the evening. How could this happen? Was it owing to the inaccuracy of

the individual who had reported what he heard, or to the malignity of

him to whom it had been reported? Be this as it may, the fact was as I

have stated.

I often entertained the idea of writing out the speeches which I had

heard the Emperor deliver, and I now very deeply regret having neglected

to do so. The following are a few reminiscences which occur to me at

this moment:

One day, the Emperor, speaking on the political rights which it was

proper to concede to persons of French origin born in foreign countries,

said, “The noblest title in the world is that of being born a Frenchman;

it is a title conferred by Heaven, and which no individual on earth

should have the power to withdraw. For my part, I wish that every man of

French origin, though he were a foreigner in the tenth generation,

should still be a Frenchman, if he wishes to claim the title. Were he to

present himself on the other bank of the Rhine, saying, I wish to be a

Frenchman, I would have his voice to be more powerful than the law; the

barriers should fall before him, and he should return triumphant to the

bosom of our common mother.”

On another occasion, he said, though I do not now recollect on what

subject he was speaking: “The Constituent Assembly acted very unwisely

in abolishing purely titular nobility; a measure which was calculated to

humble so many individuals. I do better. I confer on all Frenchmen

titles, of which every one has reason to be proud.”

At another time, he used the following words, which perhaps, I have

already quoted:—"I wish to raise the glory of the French name to such a

pitch as to make it the envy of all nations. I will, with God’s help,

bring it to pass, that in whatever part of Europe a Frenchman may

travel, he shall always find himself at home."

In the Council of State a discussion once arose respecting the plan of a

decree. The result of this discussion has now escaped my recollection,

but I know the subject was to determine that the kings of the Imperial

Families, occupying foreign thrones, should leave their titles and all

the etiquette of royalty on the frontier, and only resume them on

quitting France. The Emperor replying to some one who had started

objections to this, and at the same time explaining the motives for the

measure, said: “But for these monarchs I reserve in France a still

higher title; they shall be more than kings: they shall be French

Princes.”

I might multiply quotations of this kind to an endless length: they must

be engraven in the recollection of all the members of the Council, as

well as in mine. It will perhaps be a matter of surprise that, having

seen the Emperor so frequently, and having heard him deliver sentiments

such as these, I should have said, I did not know him at the period when

I followed him to St. Helena. My answer is that at that time I felt,

with regard to the Emperor, more of admiration and enthusiasm than of

real love, arising from an intimate knowledge of his character. Even in

the palace, we were assailed by so many absurd reports respecting the

private character and conduct of Napoleon, and we had so little direct

communication with him, that, by dint of hearing the same stories

repeated over and over, I imbibed, in spite of myself, a certain degree

of doubt and distrust. He was described to be of a dissembling and

cunning disposition, and it was affirmed that he could, when in public,

make a parade of fine sentiment, which he was totally incapable of

feeling; in short, that he possessed an eloquent tongue and an

insensible heart. Thus it was not until I became thoroughly acquainted

with his character that I was convinced how really and truly he was what

he appeared to be. Never perhaps was any man in the world so devotedly

attached to France, and there was no sacrifice which he would not

readily have made to preserve her glory. This is sufficiently evident

from his conduct at Chatillon, and after his return from Waterloo. He

expressed himself truly and energetically on his rock, when he used

these remarkable words, which I have before quoted: “No, my real

sufferings are not here!”

The following anecdotes have reference to other subjects, partly grave

and partly humourous. One day the Councillor of State, General Gassendi,

taking part in the discussion of the moment, dwelt much upon the

doctrines of economists. The Emperor, who was much attached to his old

artillery comrade, stopped him, saying: “My dear General, where did you

gain all this knowledge? Where did you imbibe these principles?”

Gassendi, who very seldom spoke in the Council, after defending himself

in the best way he could, finding himself driven into his last

entrenchments, replied that he had, after all, borrowed his opinions

from Napoleon himself. “How?” exclaimed the Emperor, with warmth, “What

do you say? Is it possible? From me, who have always thought that if

there existed a monarchy of granite, the chimeras of political

economists would reduce it to powder!” And after some other remarks,

partly ironical and partly serious, he concluded;—"Go, General! you must

have fallen asleep in your office, and have dreamed all this." Gassendi,

who was rather irascible, replied, “Oh! as for falling asleep in our

offices, Sire, I defy any one to do that with you, you plague us too

much for that.” All the Council burst into a fit of laughter, and the

Emperor laughed louder than any one.

Another time a question arose respecting the organization of the

Illyrian provinces, just after they had fallen into the power of France.

Those provinces, bordering on Turkey, were occupied by regiments of

Croatian troops, organized on a peculiar plan. They were, in short,

military colonies, the idea of which was conceived upwards of a century

ago by the great Prince Eugene, for the purpose of establishing a

barrier against the incursions and ravages of the Turks, and had well

fulfilled the purpose for which they were destined. The committee

appointed to draw up a plan for the organization of the Provinces,

proposed that the Croatian regiments should be disbanded, and replaced

by a national guard similar to ours. “Are you mad?” exclaimed the

Emperor, on hearing the report read; “are the Croatians Frenchmen? or

have you understood the excellence, utility, and importance of the

institution?”—"Sire," replied the person, who conceived himself bound to

defend the report, “the Turks will not now venture to resume their

transgressions.”—"And why not?"—"Sire, because your majesty is become

their neighbour."—"Well, and what of that?"—"Sire, they will be too much

awed by your power."—"Oh yes, Sire, Sire," replied the Emperor sharply,

“a truce to compliments at present, or, if you like, go and present them

to the Turks, who will answer you by a discharge of musquetry, and you

can return and give me an account of the affair.” The Emperor

immediately decided that the Croatian regiments should be preserved.

One day, the plan of a decree respecting ambassadors was submitted to

the consideration of the Council of State. This plan, though very

remarkable, was, I believe, never published to the world. The coolness

which the Council evinced on this subject caused the matter to be

dropped; many other plans also experienced the same fate; which, it may

be observed, affords an additional proof of the independence of the

Council, and shews that Napoleon possessed more moderation than is

generally believed.

The Emperor, who appeared to be the only individual to support the

decree, and who adhered to it very firmly, made some very curious

remarks in its defence. He wished that ambassadors should enjoy no

prerogatives or privileges which might place them above the laws of the

country. At most, he was only willing to grant that they should be

subject to a higher kind of jurisdiction. “For example,” said he, "I

have no objection that they should be brought to trial only after a

preliminary decision of an assemblage of the ministers and high

dignitaries of the empire; that they should be tried only by a special

tribunal, composed of the first magistrates and functionaries of the

state. It will perhaps be said that sovereigns, finding their own

dignity compromised in the persons of their representatives, will not

send ambassadors to my Court. Well, where will be the harm of that? I

can withdraw mine from foreign Courts, and thus the country will be

relieved from the burden of enormous and very frequently useless

salaries. Why should ambassadors be exempt from the law? They are sent

with the view of being agreeable, and for the purpose of maintaining an

interchange of friendship and favour between their respective

sovereigns. If they overstep the limits of their duty they should be

reduced to the class of common offenders, and placed within the pale of

the general law. I cannot tacitly permit ambassadors at my Court to act

the part of hired spies: if I do, I must be content to be regarded as a

fool, and to submit to all the mischief to which I may be exposed. It is

only necessary to have the matter well understood before-hand, so as to

obviate the impropriety of violating received customs, and what has

hitherto been regarded as the law of nations.

“During the height of a celebrated crisis,” continued the Emperor, “I

received information that a great personage had taken refuge in the

house of M. de Cobentzel, conceiving that he should be protected under

the immunities of the Austrian ambassador. I summoned the ambassador to

my presence, in order to enquire into the truth of the fact, and to

inform him that it would be most unfortunate if it were really such as

it had been reported to me. I observed that custom would be nothing in

my eyes when compared with the safety of a nation; and that I would

without hesitation order the arrest of the criminal and his privileged

protector, deliver them both up to a tribunal, and subject them to the

full penalties of the law. And this I would have done, gentlemen,” added

he, raising his voice. “The ambassador was aware of my determination,

and therefore my wishes were obeyed without further opposition.”

Long before the expedition to Russia, perhaps a year or two before it

was undertaken, the Emperor wished to establish a military

classification of the Empire. At the Council of State, there were read

fifteen or twenty plans for the organization of the three classes of the

French national guard. The first, which was to consist of young men, was

to march as far as the frontiers; the second, which was to be composed

of middle-aged and married men, was not to quit the department to which

it belonged; and the third, consisting of men in years, was to be kept

solely for the defence of the town in which it had been raised. The

Emperor, who was well convinced of the utility of this plan, frequently

recurred to it, and made many patriotic remarks on the subject; but it

constantly received marked disapproval from the Council, and experienced

a kind of passive and silent opposition. Meanwhile, amidst the multitude

of public affairs which claimed the attention of the Emperor, he lost

sight of this plan, which his foresight had doubtless calculated for the

safety of France, and which was likely to have ensured that result.

Upwards of two millions of men would have been classed and armed at the

period of our disasters. Who then would have ventured to assail us?

During a discussion on the above subject, the Emperor spoke in a very

emphatic and remarkable strain. A member (M. Malouet), in a very

circumlocutory style, expressed his disapproval of this plan of

organization. The Emperor addressing him in his usual way, said: “Speak

boldly, sir, do not mutilate your ideas: say what you have to say,

freely; we are here by ourselves.” The speaker then declared “that the

measure was calculated to excite general alarm; that every one trembled

to find himself classed in the national guard, being persuaded that,

under the pretext of internal defence, the object was to remove the

guard from the country.” “Very good!” said the Emperor, “I now

understand you. But, gentlemen,” continued he, addressing himself to the

members of the Council, "you are all fathers of families, possessing

ample fortunes, and filling important posts, you must necessarily have

numerous dependents; and you must either be very awkward, or very

indifferent, if, with all these advantages, you do not exercise a great

influence on public opinion. Now, how happens it that you, who know me

so well, should suffer me to be so little known by others? When did you

ever know me to employ deception and fraud in my system of government? I

am not timid, and I therefore am not accustomed to resort to indirect

measures. My fault is, perhaps, to express myself too abruptly, too

laconically. I merely pronounce the word, I order, and, with regard to

forms and details, I trust to the intermediate agent who executes my

intentions; and heaven knows, whether, on this point, I have any great

reason to congratulate myself. If, therefore, I wanted troops, I should

boldly demand them of the Senate, who would levy them for me; or if I

could not obtain them from the Senate, I should address myself to the

people, and you would see them eagerly march to join my ranks. Perhaps

you are astonished to hear me say this, for sometimes you appear not to

have a correct idea of the real state of things. Know, then, that, my

popularity is immense, and incalculable; for, whatever may be alleged to

the contrary, the whole of the French people love and respect me: their

good sense is superior to the malignant reports of my enemies and the

metaphysical speculations of fools. They would follow me in defiance of

all. You are surprised at these declarations, but they are nevertheless

true. The French people know no benefactor but me. Through me they

fearlessly enjoy all that they have acquired; through me they behold

their brothers and sons indiscriminately promoted, honoured, and

enriched; through me they find their hands constantly employed, and

their labour accompanied by its due reward. They have never had reason

to accuse me of injustice or prepossession. Now, the people see, feel

and comprehend all this; but they understand nothing of metaphysics. Not

that I am inclined to repel true and great principles; heaven forbid

that I should. On the contrary, I act upon them as much as our present

extraordinary circumstances will permit; but I only mean to say, that

the people do not yet understand them; while they perfectly understand

me, and place implicit trust in me. Be assured, then, that the people of

France will always conform to the plans which we propose for their

welfare.

“Do not allow yourselves to be deceived by the supposed opposition which

has just been alluded to; it exists only in the saloons of Paris, and by

no means in the great body of the nation. In this plan, I solemnly

declare I have no ulterior view of sending the national guard abroad; my

thoughts, at this moment, are solely occupied in adopting measures at

home, for the safety, repose, and stability of France. Proceed then to

organize the national guard; that each citizen may know his post in the

hour of need; that even M. Cambaceres, yonder, may shoulder a musket,

should our danger require him so to do. We shall thus have a nation

built of stone and mortar, capable of resisting the attacks both of time

and men. I will moreover raise the national guard to a level with the

regiments of the line: the old retired officers shall be the chiefs and

the fathers of the corps. I shall have promotion in the national guard

solicited as ardently as Court favours.”

All this must be contained in the registers of M. Locré, partly in

discussions relative to the national guard, and partly, as well as I can

recollect, on the subject of one of the annual conscriptions. I remember

that one day, in particular, there was a long debate respecting the

University. The Emperor had expressed himself dissatisfied with the

little advancement that was observable in the institution, and the bad

system on which it was conducted. M. Segur was directed to present a

report on this subject, which he did with his usual candour and

sincerity. He set on foot the necessary inquiries, and found that the

Emperor’s plans were ill understood and badly executed. Napoleon had

wished that erudition should be only a secondary object, that national

principles and doctrines should take place of every thing; and yet these

principles and doctrines were the subjects to which least attention was

paid.

The Emperor was not present at this sitting—a circumstance which very

much mortified the friends of the person principally interested in the

question. We were guilty of sacrificing too much to the spirit of

_coteries_. The report was never again brought forward; it was withdrawn

from our portfolios, and it was made a point of some importance to get

it returned from those members of the Council who had carried it home

with them.

However, some time after this, the great dignitaries of the University

were summoned to the bar of the Council of State. The Emperor expressed

his displeasure at the bad management and the bad spirit which seemed to

preside over this important institution. He observed that all his

intentions were frustrated, that his plans were never properly carried

into effect, &c. M. de F—— bent before the storm, and nevertheless

pursued his accustomed course. The Emperor said, on his return from the

Island of Elba, that he had been assured that the Grand Master of the

University had made a boast to the government, which succeeded the

Empire, of having done all in his power to thwart and misdirect the

impulse which Napoleon wished to impart to the rising generation.