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[Illustration:
_Rob^t. Cooper Scul^t._
COUNT DE LAS CASES.
]
MEMOIRS
OF
THE LIFE, EXILE,
AND
CONVERSATIONS,
OF THE
EMPEROR NAPOLEON.
BY
THE COUNT DE LAS CASES.
A NEW EDITION.
WITH PORTRAITS
AND NUMEROUS OTHER EMBELLISHMENTS.
VOL. IV.
LONDON:
PUBLISHED FOR HENRY COLBURN,
BY RICHARD BENTLEY; BELL AND BRADFUTE, EDINBURGH; J. CUMMING, DUBLIN:
AND ALL BOOKSELLERS.
-------
MDCCCXXXVI.
ANDOVER: STEREOTYPED AND PRINTED BY B. BENSLEY.
[Illustration:
NAPOLEON’S HUMANITY.
London: Published for HENRY COLBURN, December, 1835.
]
MEMOIRS
OF
THE EMPEROR NAPOLEON.
REMOVAL OF FOUR PERSONS OF OUR ESTABLISHMENT.--RECOLLECTIONS
OF THE EMPEROR’S EARLY LIFE.
Oct. 18, 1816.—I did not see the Emperor until five o’clock, when he
sent for me to attend him in the drawing-room. He continued indisposed;
but he had been engaged all the morning in dictating to the Grand
Marshal. He summoned all the persons of his suite in succession. He was
low-spirited and heavy; but at the same time there was a certain
restlessness about him. He sought to amuse himself in various ways. He
first tried chess, then dominos, and then chess again; but he was at
length compelled to return to his chamber, finding it impossible to sit
up. The state of the weather, joined to the vexations to which we are
exposed, concur in producing torments almost beyond endurance. The
weather has an effect on the nerves, and the persecutions that are
heaped upon us are still worse to bear. Every word uttered by the
Governor increases our misery. To-day he had signified his intention of
removing four of our establishment, which has been the cause of general
lamentation among the household: the individuals singled out for removal
regret their separation from their companions; while those who are to
remain are tormented by the fear of speedily sharing the same fate. We
compared Sir Hudson Lowe to Scylla, devouring the four companions of
Ulysses.
The Governor has informed me that he also intends removing my servant,
who is an inhabitant of the island, and with whom I am very well
satisfied. He is doubtless afraid that the man will become too much
attached to me. He proposes to send me a servant of his own choosing, a
favour for which I feel very grateful, though I have no intention of
availing myself of the kind offer.
At dinner the Emperor ate but little. During the dessert, however, his
spirits revived a little, and we began to converse on the events of his
early life. This is a subject on which he delights to dwell, and which
always affords him a source of new and lively interest. He repeated many
of the particulars which I have already related at different times. He
said that he loved to go back to that happy age when all is gaiety and
enjoyment;—that happy period of hope and rising ambition, when the world
first opens before us, and the mind fondly cherishes every romantic
dream. He spoke of his regiment, and the pleasures he had enjoyed when
he first mingled in society. On mentioning the different balls and fêtes
which he had attended in his youthful days, he described one as having
been particularly splendid. “But,” said he, “at that time my notions of
splendour were very different from what they now are.”
Alluding to the date of certain circumstances, he observed that it would
be difficult for him to divide his life year by year. We observed that
if he would only date the events of four or five years, we could easily
take all the rest upon ourselves. He reverted to his military _début_ at
Toulon, the circumstances that first called him into notice, the sudden
ascendency which he acquired by his first successes, and the ambition
with which they inspired him: “And yet,” said he, “I was far from
entertaining a high opinion of myself. It was not till after the battle
of Lodi that I conceived those lofty notions of ambition which were
confirmed in Egypt, after the victory of the Pyramids and the possession
of Cairo. Then,” said he, “I willingly resigned myself to every
brilliant dream.”
The Emperor had become very cheerful and talkative, and he did not
retire until midnight. We looked upon this as a sort of resuscitation.
MADAME DE GENLIS’ NOVELS.
19th.—Our four proscripts, namely, the Pole, Santini, Archambault, and
Rousseau, left us about the middle of the day. In an hour they sailed
for the Cape with a brisk wind.
About three o’clock the Emperor sent for me. He was in the drawing-room,
and he desired to have Madame de Genlis’ novels brought to him. He read
a few pages aloud; but he soon laid down the books, observing that they
told him nothing. It was not so with me: the few pages that I had just
heard touched many tender strings. They presented a picture of the
elegant society of Paris, detailed the names of streets and monuments,
described familiar conversations, and retraced well-known portraits: all
this produced a forcible impression on me. The realities exist, I myself
exist, and yet we are separated, by distance, time, and, doubtless, by
eternity! I could at this moment look with indifference on pleasure and
gaiety; but the recollection of persons and places, which had thus been
revived, filled me with feelings of deep melancholy and regret.
The Grand Marshal now arrived, and the Emperor dictated to him till
dinner-time.
In the evening the Emperor asked for the Arabian Nights; but he was
unable to read, and soon laid aside the book.
VALUATION OF THE BOOKS SENT OUT TO US.—THE
GRAND MARSHAL COMES TO LIVE NEARER TO US.
20th.—I spent the day in estimating the value of the books sent to us
from London, and for which an enormous sum is claimed from the Emperor.
Our valuation did not amount to even half that sum.
The Emperor did not appear in the drawing-room until a moment before
dinner; he had not, he said, seen any body the whole day; he had sought
for diversion, and found it in continued application. After dinner he
again took up the Arabian Nights.
The Grand Marshal and his family have this day left Hut’s Gate, their
first residence, which was situated about one league from Longwood. They
have at last taken possession of their new house, by which means we are
now nearly under the same roof. This was quite an event for them and for
us.
EXPEDITION OF ST. LOUIS IN EGYPT.—OUR FEMALE AUTHORS.—MADAME DE
STAEL.—THE WRITERS INIMICAL TO NAPOLEON WILL BITE AGAINST GRANITE.
21st.—I went after breakfast to see Madame Bertrand. She was so confined
at Hut’s Gate that she will have no cause to regret being shut up within
our enclosure, and we shall be very great gainers by it. For my part it
seemed to me as if I had found part of my family.
Our limits become every day more circumscribed. The number of sentries
is augmented, every thing reminds us incessantly of our horrible prison.
The Emperor said to me, whilst he was dressing, “that he was determined
to apply, once more, regularly to his occupations, which had been
interrupted by the late ill-treatment from our horrible Governor.” I
urged him to do so with all my might, as well for his own sake as for
ours, and for France and History.
The weather was too bad to allow the Emperor to take the air. He went
into his library, and looked over the History of the Crusades by
Michaud, and the Memoirs of Joinville. He then went to the drawing-room,
and conversed for some time longer; particularly respecting the servant
whom they wish to take from me, the one they intend to give me, &c.
The Governor will only give for the Emperor’s plate a sum more than one
fifth less than the plate is valued at in Paris, and yet he will neither
allow any competition for the sale of it in the Island, nor of its being
taken to London!...
The unfortunate people that have been shipped for the Cape will be fed
like common sailors. I have heard, on this occasion, that the same thing
took place on board the Northumberland, and that the Emperor’s servants
had not had any indulgence more than the common sailors, except by
paying for it.
After dinner the Emperor read, in Joinville, an account of the
expedition of St. Louis in Egypt. He analysed it, pointing out its
defects, and comparing the movements and the plan of that Expedition
with the plan adopted by himself; concluding that “if he had acted in
the same manner as St. Louis had done, he should undoubtedly have shared
the same fate.”
The Emperor retired early and sent for me. The conversation again fell
upon his excursions in Egypt, and in Syria. Matilda, a novel, by Madam
Cottin, the scene of which is laid in those countries, being
incidentally mentioned, led the Emperor to take a review of our female
authors. He spoke of Madame Roland and her Memoirs, of Madame de Genlis,
of Madame Cottin, whose Claire d’Albe he had just been reading, and of
Madame de Staël. He spoke at length about the latter, and repeated in
part what has already been said. Speaking of her exile, he said: “Her
house had become quite an arsenal against me; people went there to be
dubbed knights. She endeavoured to raise enemies against me and fought
against me herself. She was at once Armida and Clorinda.” Then, summing
up his arguments as he was wont to do, he said: “After all, it cannot be
denied that Madame de Staël is a very distinguished woman, endowed with
great talents and possessing a considerable share of wit. She will go
down to posterity. It was more than once hinted to me, in order to
soften me in her favour, that she was an adversary to be feared, and
might become a useful ally; and certainly if, instead of reviling me as
she did, she had spoken in my praise, it might no doubt have proved
advantageous to me; for her position and her abilities gave her an
absolute sway over the saloons, and their influence in Paris is well
known.” He then added, “Notwithstanding all that she has said against
me, and all that she will yet say, I am certainly far from thinking or
saying that she has a bad heart: the fact is, that she and I have waged
a little war against each other, and that is all.” Then taking a review
of the numerous writers who have declaimed against him, he said: “I am
destined to be their food, but I have little fear of becoming their
victim; they will bite against granite; my history is made up of facts,
and words alone cannot destroy them. In order to fight against me
successfully, somebody should appear in the lists armed with the weight
and authority of facts on his side. If such a man as the great
Frederick, or any other man of his cast, were to take to writing against
me, it would be a different thing; it would then, perhaps, be time for
me to begin to be moved; but as for all other writers, whatever be their
talent, their efforts will be vain. My fame will survive: and when they
wish to be admired, they will sound my praise.”
CARE TAKEN OF THE WOUNDED IN THE ARMIES.—BARON
LARREY.—CHARACTERISTIC CIRCUMSTANCE.
22nd—23d. The weather has been very bad. The Emperor, suffering greatly
from the tooth-ache, and having a swelled cheek, has not been able to go
out for the last two days. I have spent the greatest part of them with
him, in his apartment, or in the drawing-room, which he has converted
into a promenade, by opening the doors of communication from one to the
other.
Amongst the various subjects of our conversation, he once told me
certain things which he had heard, and at which I much rejoiced. Nothing
can give a more striking proof of the horrors of our situation than the
importance which I attached to them. But every thing is in proportion to
the situation in which we are placed.
At another time, the Emperor expressed his regret at being so lazy with
respect to the English language. I told him that he now knew as much of
it as he wanted. He could read all books; it was now only necessary to
reduce the whole to a regular system—but, were the rule and compass fit
things for him?
After going through several subjects of conversation, the Emperor spoke
of Baron Larrey, on whom he passed the highest encomium, saying that
Larrey had left the impression on his mind of a truly honest man; that
to science he united, in the highest degree, the virtue of active
philanthropy: he looked upon all the wounded as belonging to his family;
every consideration gave way before the care which he bestowed upon the
hospitals. “In our first campaigns under the Republic, which have been
so much calumniated,” said the Emperor, “a most fortunate revolution
took place in the surgical department, which has since spread to all the
armies of Europe; and to Larrey it is, in great measure, that mankind is
indebted for it. The surgeon now shares the dangers of the soldier: it
is in the midst of the fire that he devotes his attentions to him.
Larrey possesses all my esteem and my gratitude,” &c.
This favourable impression seems clearly to have occupied Napoleon’s
mind in his last moments; for he has left Larrey a mark of his
remembrance, with this honourable testimony “_The most virtuous man that
I have known_.” On reading these words, I concluded that some peculiar
circumstance must have produced this most magnificent expression of
esteem, and the following is the result of my inquiries.
After the battles of Lützen, Wurtzen, and Bautzen, the victorious
Napoleon sent for the surgeon (Larrey), to ascertain, as usual, the
number of the wounded, and the state in which they were. They happened
to be, on this occasion, considerably more numerous than at other times
and in other engagements. The Emperor was surprised at this
circumstance, and endeavoured to explain the cause of it. M. Larrey
thought that, independently of local causes, it might be found in the
great number of soldiers who had fought on that day for the first time,
and who were, on that account, more awkward in their movements, and less
expert in avoiding danger. The Emperor, whose mind was extremely
pre-occupied by this affair, was not satisfied with this explanation,
and made inquiries elsewhere. As there were, at that moment, several
persons who were heartily tired of war; who would have wished for peace
on any conditions; and who would not have been sorry to see the Emperor
compelled to make it, whether from the effect of calculation or
conviction; the Emperor was told, in answer to his inquiries, that the
immense number of wounded ought not to be a matter of surprise; that the
greatest proportion of them were wounded in the hand, and they had
inflicted the wound on themselves, in order to be disabled from
fighting. The Emperor was thunderstruck at this information; he repeated
his inquiries, and found them attended with the same result; he was in a
state of despair. “If it be thus,” he exclaimed, “notwithstanding our
success, our situation is hopeless: France will be delivered up
defenceless to the barbarians.” And turning over in his mind by what
means he should put a stop to this contagion, he ordered all the wounded
of a certain description to be put on one side; and named a commission,
composed of surgeons, with Larrey at their head, to examine their
wounds, resolved to punish most severely those who should be found to
have been so cowardly as to mutilate themselves. M. Larrey, still
unwilling to believe in this voluntary self-mutilation, which, in his
opinion, was a stain on the honour of the army and of the nation,
appeared before the Emperor to state his opinion once more to him. But
Napoleon, incensed at his obstinacy, which some persons had taken care
to magnify in his eyes, said to him, with severity, “Sir, you will make
your observations to me officially;—go and fulfil your duty.”
Baron Larrey immediately applied to the business, but in a solemn
manner; he followed up the most trifling details, and therefore
proceeded slowly, whilst various motives rendered many persons impatient
to see the issue; and it was known that the Emperor himself was not less
impatient. Some persons did not fail to point out to M. Larrey the
delicate situation in which he was placed; but he turned a deaf ear to
all observations, and remained unmoved. At last, after some days, he
went to the Emperor, insisting upon being allowed to deliver his report
himself. “Well Sir,” said the Emperor, “Do you still persist in your
opinion?”—“More than that, Sire, I am come to prove to your Majesty that
I was right; these brave young men were basely calumniated: I have spent
a considerable time in the strictest investigation, and I have not found
one single man guilty; there is a deposition in writing on the
individual case of every one of those wounded men: bales of them follow
me; your Majesty may order them to be examined.” The Emperor looked at
him with a gloomy expression, and, taking his report with a kind of
emotion, he said, “Very well, Sir, I will look into it;” and he paced
the room with rapid strides, with an air of agitation and indecision; at
last, coming up to Larrey with an open countenance, he shook him
cordially by the hand, and said, with emotion: “Farewell, M. Larrey, a
sovereign is truly fortunate to have to do with such men as you are; you
will receive my orders.” M. Larrey received the same evening from
Napoleon his picture set in diamonds, 6000 francs in gold, and a pension
on the State of 3000 francs, independent, it was said, of every other
reward to which he might be entitled by his rank, his seniority, and his
future services. Such traits are invaluable for history; as they
exhibit, on the one hand, an honest man who does not hesitate to defend
truth against a sovereign prepossessed and incensed; and because they
display, on the other, the noble mind of the sovereign in the happiness
and the gratitude which he expressed on being undeceived.
THE EMPEROR ACCEPTS MY FOUR THOUSAND LOUIS.—TRAGEDY OF EURIPIDES IN ITS
ORIGINAL PURITY ORDERED FOR THE THEATRE AT SAINT-CLOUD.—MARSHAL
JOURDAN.
24th.—The Emperor has not been out, he has not sent for any of us, and
he has not appeared at dinner. This made us fear that he was ill. After
ten o’clock he sent for me, as I was not yet in bed. He told me he had
not left his sofa the whole day; he had been reading for nearly eighteen
hours. He had only taken a little soup. He had had the tooth-ache. I
told him we had feared that it was something more serious, for our grief
at not seeing him was always increased by apprehension.
In a short time, he began to touch upon our pecuniary resources. He had,
as he humorously expressed it, held his Council in the morning; the
plate had been weighed, and the quantity that was to be sold had been
computed; the produce of it, he added, would enable us to go on for some
time longer. I again renewed the offer of the four thousand Louis which
I had in the English funds, and he deigned to accept them. “Mine is a
singular situation,” said he; “I have no doubt that if a communication
were allowed with me, and my relatives, or even many strangers, could
suspect that I am in want, I should soon be amply provided with every
thing that I require; but ought I to be a burthen to my friends, and
expose them to the undue advantage which the English ministers might
take of their good-will? I have applied to those ministers for a few
books, and they have sent them to me with all the inattention and
neglect of a careless agent. They claim from me fifteen hundred or two
thousand pounds sterling, that is, about 50,000 francs, for what I might
certainly have procured for less than 12,000. Would it not be the same
with every thing else? If I accept what you offer, it must be strictly
applied to our immediate wants; for, after all, we must live, and we
really cannot live upon what they give us. The small addition of one
hundred Louis per month would just be sufficient, and that is the sum
which you must ask for, and appropriate as carefully as possible.”
The calash then came up to us; it was driven four-in-hand by Archambaud.
This could not be otherwise, since the departure of Archambaud’s
brother. The Emperor refused at first to get into the carriage; he did
not think it prudent, in the midst of the stumps of trees with which we
were surrounded; he remembered his famous fall at Saint-Cloud, and
wished one of the English servants to ride as postilion, but Archambaud
protested that he should feel less secure in that manner than in driving
alone. Since the departure of his brother, he said, he had been
constantly practising amongst the trees, in order to be sure that he
could answer for himself. The Emperor then got in the calash, and we
took two turns. On our return he went to see the residence of the Grand
Marshal, with which he was not yet acquainted.
The evening was terminated by reading some passages of Longepierre’s
tragedy of Medea, which the Emperor interrupted, to compare it with that
of Euripides on the same subject, which he ordered to be brought to him.
He mentioned, on the subject, that he had formerly ordered one of the
Greek tragedies to be represented at his theatre in the palace, in all
its integrity, choosing the best possible translation, and imitating as
closely as possible the manners, dresses, forms, and scenery of the
original. He could not recollect what circumstance or what obstacle had
prevented the execution of the plan.
Having retired to his apartment, and not finding himself disposed to
sleep, he took some turns in his room, and threw himself on his sofa. He
opened a kind of political almanack which happened to be at hand; and
fell upon a list of our Marshals, which he passed in review, adding, at
the same time, quotations and anecdotes already known or related. When
he came to Marshal Jourdan, he dwelt for some time on the subject, and
concluded by saying: “This is one who has been assuredly very ill
treated by me; it was, therefore, natural to conclude that he would be
highly incensed against me; but I have heard with pleasure that he has
behaved with great moderation since my fall. He has set an example of
that elevation of mind which serves to distinguish men, and does honour
to their character. However, he was a true patriot, and that explains
many things.”
SUMMARY OF JULY, AUGUST, SEPTEMBER, AND OCTOBER.—OF MR. O’MEARA’S
WORK.—ACTION NOW BROUGHT AGAINST HIM BY SIR HUDSON LOWE.—A FEW WORDS
IN DEFENCE OF THIS WORK.
The usual summary cannot henceforth be long; strictly speaking three
sentences would suffice to trace it:
Incessant annoyance.
Absolute seclusion.
Infallible destruction.
The remainder of Napoleon’s existence will only be a cruel and prolonged
agony.
It has already been seen that the arrival of a new Governor became for
us the signal of the commencement of a life of misery. A few days had
sufficed to unfold his disposition; and, soon afterwards, the annoyances
and insults of which he made himself the instrument, or which he himself
created, were carried to the highest pitch. He rendered us an object of
terror to the inhabitants—he subjected us to the most cruel vexations—he
forbade us to write, without a previous communication with him, even to
those persons with whom he did not prevent us from conversing without
restraint—he invited _General Bonaparte_ to dine at his table, to shew
him to a lady of rank who was for a short time on the island—he arrested
one of our servants.
He now produces a despatch, in pursuance of which he endeavours to
oblige the Emperor to go into “the meanest details of his wants,” as
Napoleon expressed it, and to discuss them with him; he importunes the
Emperor to give money which he does not possess; and, by dint of
reductions in the common necessaries of life, obliges him to break up
and sell his plate, determining at the same time, by his authority as
Governor, the rate at which it is to be sold, and the person who is to
purchase it. He ridiculously restricts us to one bottle of wine per
head, including the Emperor. “He cheapens our existence,” said the
Emperor; “he grudges me the air I breathe, and what he sends to us for
our subsistence is sometimes, nay frequently, so bad that we are obliged
to apply for provisions to the neighbouring camp!!” &c.
He lays a snare for Napoleon, and exults in the hope of being able to
impart to him, personally and pompously, a communication which he calls
a ministerial order, but which is so outrageous that he refuses to leave
a copy of it; he prescribes to the Emperor the most absurd regulations;
he capriciously, and with bitter irony, contracts the space of his usual
limits; chalks out the trace of his footsteps; and even goes so far as
to attempt to regulate the nature of his conversations and the tenour of
his expressions; he surrounds us with trenches, palisadoes, and
redoubts; he obliges each of us individually, in order to be allowed to
remain with the Emperor, to sign a declaration that we submit to all
these restrictions; he makes use of us as instruments to degrade the
Emperor, by obliging us to call him _Bonaparte_, under pain of being
immediately removed from his person and instantly sent out of the
island, &c.
The Emperor, provoked by such disgraceful usage and such gratuitous
insults, opens his mind without reserve to Sir Hudson Lowe; his words
know no restraint; he frees himself for ever from his odious presence,
and declares that he never will see him again. “The most unworthy
proceeding of the English ministers,” said the Emperor to him, “is not
to have sent me here, but to have delivered me into your hands. I
complained of the admiral your predecessor; but he at least had a
heart!... You are a disgrace to your nation, and your name will for ever
be a stain upon its character!... This Governor,” the Emperor would
frequently say to us, “has nothing of an Englishman in his composition;
he is nothing but a worthless _sbire_ of Sicily. I at first complained
that a gaoler had been sent to me; but I now affirm that they have sent
me an executioner,” &c.
I have recorded these expressions, and I might mention many more,
however harsh they may be. 1st, Because I heard them uttered. 2dly,
Because Napoleon used them in speaking to Sir Hudson Lowe in person, or
caused them to be repeated to him. 3dly and lastly, Because they were
deserved, on account of the arbitrary, oppressive, and brutal manner, in
which the Governor, to the great scandal of the English themselves who
were on the spot, and who then manifested their disgust at his conduct,
abused the power with which he was invested in the name of a Nation so
eminently distinguished all over the globe, of a Prince so universally
respected in Europe, and of a Cabinet in which there were still some
honourable characters, men personally known by their moderation and
their elegant manners.
The vexations by which Napoleon was assailed were incessant; they
pursued him at every moment of his existence. Not a day passed without
the infliction of a fresh wound; and one of the torments recorded in
fabulous history may be said to have been thus realized.
Ah! if, during that period of affliction for so many generous hearts,
the Genius of Europe, the Genius of Truth, and the Genius of History,
have ever turned even involuntarily towards St. Helena, and the great
Napoleon; if they have sought for him in that island which they thought
it would be right to attempt, at least, to turn into a kind of Elysium
for him; what must have been their indignation to see him, in the bright
glory of so many immortal actions, chained like Prometheus to a rock,
and, like him, under the claws of a vulture, which delights in tearing
him to pieces!!! O infamy! O eternal disgrace!...
During this period the Emperor’s health has been constantly and
considerably declining; his body, which was thought so robust, which had
endured so many toils, and withstood so much fatigue, supported by
victory and glory, was now bending under the weight of infirmities
prematurely brought on by the injustice of men. Almost every day he is
attacked by some new indisposition; fever, swelled face, symptoms of
scurvy, constant colds; his features are altered, his gait becomes
heavy, his legs swelled, &c.... Our hearts were torn in seeing him thus
hastening towards infallible destruction; all our cares are in vain.
He had long since given up riding on horseback, and by degrees, also, he
almost entirely relinquished his rides in the calash. Even walking
became a rare occurrence, and he was thus nearly reduced to a strict
seclusion in his apartments. He no longer applied to any regular or
continued occupation; he seldom dictated to us, and only upon subjects
that were merely the fancy of the moment. He spent the greatest part of
the day alone in his room, busied in turning over a few books, or rather
doing nothing. Let those who have formed a due estimate of the power of
his faculties appreciate the strength of mind required to enable him to
bear, with equanimity, the intolerable burden of a life so wearisome and
monotonous; for, in our presence, he always exhibited the same serenity
of countenance and equality of temper. His mind appeared equally
unembarrassed; his conversation offered the same lively turns of
expression, and he was sometimes even inclined to mirth and humour; but,
in the privacy of intimate intercourse, it was easy to perceive that he
no longer thought of the future, meditated on the past, or cared about
the present. He merely yielded a passive obedience to the physical laws
of Nature, and, thoroughly disgusted with life, he perhaps secretly
sighed for the moment which was to put an end to it.
Such was the state of affairs when I was forcibly removed from Longwood;
for that period approaches—it is not far distant.
I have not noted down in the course of my Journal every minute
circumstance of our quarrels with the Governor, or the numerous official
communications that were exchanged between us. I have also omitted to
mention all the shameful privations to which we were exposed, in respect
to the necessaries and comforts of life. My object has been to show
Napoleon’s character in its true light, and not to write the history of
Longwood, and the catalogue of its miseries. Those who have any
curiosity on that score may seek for details in the work of Mr. O’Meara.
It would have argued meanness in me, who was one of the victims, had I
dwelt upon them; but for the Doctor, who was only a witness, who was a
stranger to us, and in some degree one of the adverse party, he can
only, situated as he is, have been actuated in so doing by the impulse
of a powerful feeling, and of generous indignation, which does honour to
his heart.
I have just heard (1824) that the late governor of St. Helena has
brought an action against Mr. O’Meara for defamation and calumny. I have
the highest respect for the Judges who preside over the principal courts
of justice in England, because I know how they are composed; but how can
one, in these days, be certain of the result of such an action? In the
unfortunate political effervescence of our times, truth appears, as it
were, in two lights at the same time; the true light is, for every
individual, that which exists in his own heart; for, after all, it is
impossible to impose upon one’s self, and that reflection will, no
doubt, be a motive of consolation to Mr. O’Meara, whatever the result
may be. And I must here declare that all the facts which I have seen
stated in Mr. O’Meara’s work, on the above-mentioned points, and which
fell under my knowledge while I was at St. Helena, are strictly true;
and thence I naturally conclude, by analogy, that the remainder, which I
have not seen, is also true. I, therefore, do not hesitate to say that I
consider it as such in my heart and conscience.
Whilst writing this, I have received from Sir Hudson Lowe some extracts
of confidential letters which, he informs me, he received at the time
from Mr. O’Meara, in which, he observes to me, O’Meara spoke of me in a
very improper manner, and made secret reports to him respecting me. What
can have been the intention of Sir Hudson Lowe in acting thus with me?
Considering the terms on which we are together, he cannot have been
prompted by a very tender interest. Did he wish to prove to me that Mr.
O’Meara acted as a spy for him upon us? Did he hope so far to prepossess
me against him as to influence the nature and the force of my testimony
in favour of his adversary? And, after all, are these letters in their
original state? have they not been altered after the fashion of St.
Helena? But, even supposing their meaning to be true and explicit, in
what respect can they offend me? What claim had I then on Mr. O’Meara’s
indulgence? what right had I to expect it? It is true that, at a later
period, after his return to Europe, seeing him persecuted and punished
on account of the humanity of his conduct towards Napoleon, I wrote to
him to express my heartfelt gratitude, and to offer him an asylum in my
family, should injustice compel him to leave his own country; that he
was welcome to share with me. But at St. Helena I hardly knew him, and I
do not believe that I spoke to him ten times during my residence at
Longwood. I considered him as being opposed to me by nation, by
opinions, and by interest: such was the nature of my connexion with Mr.
O’Meara. He was, therefore, entirely at liberty with respect to me: he
might _then_ write whatever he thought proper, and it cannot now vary
the opinion which I have since formed of him. Sir Hudson Lowe intends
now to insinuate that Mr. O’Meara was a double and a triple spy at the
same moment, viz. for the Government, for Napoleon, and for him, Sir
Hudson Lowe; but does that disprove the truth and destroy the
authenticity of the facts mentioned in his book? On the contrary. And
from which of the three parties could he expect to be rewarded for
revealing these facts to the public? Napoleon is no more; he can expect
nothing from him: and his publication has rendered the two others his
bitter enemies, who have deprived him of his situation, and threaten to
disturb his repose; for his real crime, in their eyes, is the warm zeal,
which he has displayed, of a friend to the laws and to decorum; who,
indignant at the mean and indecorous vexations to which Napoleon had
been exposed, drags the true authors of them to light, in order to
exculpate his country. I have, therefore, considered this tardy
communication of the confidential letters which Sir Hudson Lowe has just
transmitted to me, at the moment of his action against O’Meara, as a
kind of interested accusation, which every one will qualify as he thinks
proper. I have never even acknowledged the receipt of these letters; and
still less have I ever thought of complaining of their contents.
NAPOLEON’S VIEWS AND INTENTIONS WITH RESPECT TO
THE RUSSIAN WAR.—OFFICIAL INSTRUCTIONS.
Friday, Oct. 25.—I attended the Emperor at his toilette. The weather was
tolerably fine, and he went out, and walked as far as the wood. He was
very feeble; for it was now ten days since he had stirred out. He felt a
weakness in his knees; and remarked, that he should soon be obliged to
lean on me for support.
Passing to other topics, he made many observations on the Russian war.
Among other things he said: “That war should have been the most popular
of any in modern times. It was a war of good sense and true interests; a
war for the repose and security of all; it was purely pacific and
preservative; entirely European and continental. Its success would have
established a balance of power and would have introduced new
combinations, by which the dangers of the present time would have been
succeeded by future tranquillity. In this case, ambition had no share in
my views. In raising Poland, which was the key-stone of the whole arch,
I would have permitted a King of Prussia, an Archduke of Austria, or any
other to occupy the throne. I had no wish to obtain any new acquisition;
and I reserved for myself only the glory of doing good, and the
blessings of posterity. Yet this undertaking failed, and proved my ruin,
though I never acted more disinterestedly, and never better merited
success. As if popular opinion had been seized with contagion, in a
moment, a general outcry, a general sentiment, arose against me. I was
proclaimed the destroyer of kings—I, who had created them! I was
denounced as the subverter of the rights of nations—I, who was about to
risk all to secure them! And people and kings, those irreconcileable
enemies, leagued together and conspired against me! All the acts of my
past life were now forgotten. I said, truly, that popular favour would
return to me with victory; but victory escaped me, and I was ruined.
Such is mankind, and such is my history; but both people and kings will
have cause to regret me; and my memory will be sufficiently avenged for
the injustice committed upon me: that is certain.”
If certain passages in the above conversation of Napoleon should require
illustration or proof, these will be found in the following letter. The
document is highly valuable on account of its date and contents; for the
motives and views of the Russian expedition are here developed by
Napoleon at the moment when he was about to embark in the enterprise.
The vulgar were certainly far from comprehending or rendering justice to
his intentions; I say the vulgar, for it is just to remark that, among
statesmen and men of foresight and extended views, the Russian war was
very popular. They disapproved of the moment at which it was undertaken;
but they fully appreciated all the grand designs of the Emperor.
INSTRUCTIONS GIVEN TO M—--, TO SERVE AS HIS
GUIDE IN THE MISSION WHICH HE WILL HAVE TO
FULFIL IN POLAND. (APRIL 18, 1812.)
“SIR,—The high opinion which the Emperor entertains of your fidelity and
talent induces him to advance you so far in his confidence, as to
intrust you with a mission of the utmost political interest. This
mission will require _activity, prudence, and discretion_.
“You are to proceed to Dresden. The ostensible object of your journey
will be to present to the King of Saxony a letter, which the Emperor
will deliver to you to-morrow after his levee. His Imperial and Royal
Majesty has already acquainted you with his intentions; he will
communicate to you verbally his final instructions respecting the
overtures which you are to make to the King of Saxony.
“It is the Emperor’s intention that the King of Saxony should be treated
with all the consideration to which he is entitled, from the particular
esteem which his Majesty entertains for him personally. You will explain
yourself both to the King and his Ministers, with unreserved candour;
and you will give credit to the hints you may receive from the Count de
St. Pilsac.
“With respect to Saxony, there will be _no sacrifice without
compensation_.
“Saxony attaches but little importance to the sovereignty of the Duchy
of Warsaw, as it now exists: it is a precarious and troublesome
possession. The sovereignty of that fragment of Poland places Saxony in
a false position with regard to Prussia, Austria, and Russia. You will
develop these ideas, and treat this question in the way in which it was
discussed in your presence, in his Majesty’s closet, on the 17th. You
will find the cabinet of Dresden not much inclined to oppose you; its
diplomacy has presented to us the same observations, on several previous
occasions. The matter in question is not the dismemberment of the
dominions of the King of Saxony.
“After a short stay at Dresden, you will announce your departure for
Warsaw; _where you will await new orders from the Emperor_.
“His Imperial Majesty begs that the King of Saxony will accredit you to
his Polish Ministers.
“At Warsaw, you will concert your measures with Prince ...., the
Emperor’s chamberlain, and with General ..... These two persons, who are
descended from the most illustrious Polish families, have promised to
exercise the influence they possess among their fellow citizens, to
induce them to exert every effort for securing the happiness and
independence of their country. You must communicate to the government of
the Grand Duchy an impulse calculated to prepare the great changes which
the Emperor proposes to make in favour of the Polish nation.
“It is necessary that the Poles should second the designs of the
Emperor, and co-operate in their own regeneration. _They must consider
France only as an auxiliary power._
“The Emperor is aware of the difficulties he will have to encounter, in
his endeavours to bring about the re-establishment of Poland. That great
political work will oppose the _apparent and immediate interests of his
allies_.
“The re-establishment of Poland, by the arms of the French Empire, is a
hazardous and even a perilous enterprise, in which France will have to
contend against her friends as well as her enemies. We will enter into a
few details on this point.
“The object which the Emperor has in view is the organization of Poland,
_with the whole or a portion of her old territory_; and he wishes, if
possible, to effect this object without engaging in war. In furtherance
of this design, his Majesty has granted very extensive powers to his
ambassador at St. Petersburg: he has sent to Vienna a negotiator,
authorized to treat with the principal powers, and to offer great
sacrifices in territory, on the part of the French Empire, _by way of
indemnity for the cessions to be made for the re-establishment of the
kingdom of Poland_.
“Europe consists of three great divisions: in the west, the French
Empire; in the centre, the German States; and in the east, the Russian
Empire. England can have no more influence on the continent than the
Powers think fit to allow her.
“A strong organization of the centre will be necessary as a
precautionary measure, lest Russia or France should one day, in order to
extend their power, attempt to gain the supremacy in Europe. The French
Empire is now in the enjoyment of the full energy of her existence: if
she does not, at this moment, complete the political constitution of
Europe, to-morrow she may lose the advantages of her situation, and fail
in her enterprises.
“The conversion of Prussia into a military state, the reign and
conquests of Frederick the Great, the opinions of the age, and those of
the French revolution, have annihilated the Germanic Confederation. The
Confederation of the Rhine is only part of a provisional system. The
Princes who have been gainers would probably wish for the consolidation
of that system; but those who have been losers, the people, who have
suffered from the calamities of war, and the states which dread the too
great increase of the French power, will seize every opportunity of
opposing the maintenance of the Rhinish Confederation. Even the Princes
who have been aggrandized by the new system will seek to withdraw
themselves from it, as soon as time shall establish them in the
possessions they have obtained. France will, in the end, find herself
deprived of a protectorate, which, certainly, she will have purchased by
too many sacrifices.
“The Emperor is of opinion that, ultimately, at a period which cannot be
far distant, it will be proper to restore the states of Europe to their
complete independence.
“The House of Austria, which possesses three extensive kingdoms, must be
the soul of this independence, on account of the topographical situation
of its States; but it must not be the ruling power. In case of a rupture
between the two Empires of France and Russia, if the Confederation of
the intermediate Powers were actuated by one and the same impulse, the
ruin of one of the contending parties would necessarily ensue. The
French Empire would be more exposed to danger than the Russian Empire.
“The centre of Europe must be composed of states unequal in power, and
each possessing its own peculiar system of policy. These states, from
their situation and political relations, will seek support in the
protection of the preponderating powers; and they will be interested in
the maintenance of peace, because they must always be the victims of
war. With these views, after raising up new states and aggrandizing old
ones, in order to fortify our system of alliance for the future, the
establishment of Poland is an object of the utmost interest to the
Emperor and to Europe. If the Kingdom of Poland be not restored, Europe
will be without a frontier on that point; and Austria and Germany will
be face to face with the most powerful Empire in the world.
“The Emperor foresees that Poland, like Prussia, will ultimately become
the ally of Russia; but, if Poland should owe her restoration to France,
the period of the union of the above-mentioned states will be
sufficiently remote to afford time for the consolidation of the
established order of things. Europe being thus organized, there will no
longer be any cause of rivalry between France and Russia: these two
Empires will have the same commercial interests, and will act in
conformity with the same principles.
“Before the coolness with Prussia, the Emperor’s first intention was to
form a solid alliance with the King of Prussia, and to place the crown
of Poland on his head. There were then few obstacles to be surmounted:
for Prussia was already in possession of one-third of Poland; Russia
would have been left in possession of what she might have insisted on
retaining; and indemnities would have been granted to Austria. But the
progress of events occasioned the Emperor to alter his intentions.
“At the time of the negotiations of Tilsit, it was found necessary to
create states precisely in those countries which most dreaded the power
of France. The moment was favourable for the re-establishment of Poland,
though it would have been the work of violence and force. The war must
have been prolonged; the French army was suffering from cold and want;
and Russia had armies on foot. The Emperor was touched by the generous
sentiments which the Emperor Alexander manifested towards him. He
experienced obstacles on the part of Austria; and he suffered his policy
to be overruled by the desire of signing a peace, which he hoped to have
rendered lasting, if, through the influence of Russia and Austria,
England could have been prevailed on to consent to a general
reconciliation.
“Prussia, after her reverses, manifested such a spirit of hatred towards
France that it was deemed necessary to diminish her power. With this
view, the Grand Duchy of Warsaw was created. It was placed under the
dominion of the King of Saxony, a prince whose whole life had been
devoted to the happiness of his subjects. Endeavours were made to
conciliate the Poles, by the establishment of institutions agreeable to
their tastes, and conformable with their manners and national character.
But all was badly managed.
“Saxony, separated from her new possessions by Prussia, could not, with
Poland, constitute a body sufficiently organized to become strong and
powerful. The opening of a military road through the Prussian territory,
to communicate between Saxony and Poland, greatly humbled the Prussians;
and the Poles complained of disappointed hopes.
“The Emperor stipulated for the occupation of the fortresses of Prussia,
in order to ensure the certainty that that power would not seek to
re-kindle the torch of war. The campaign of 1809 proved the prudence of
his policy. He adopted the firm resolution of labouring unremittingly to
complete the system of organization in Europe, which was calculated to
put a period to disastrous wars.
“The Emperor conceived that he must appear formidable, from the number
of troops which he has marched towards the Vistula, and from the
occupation of the fortresses of Prussia; measures which were necessary
for ensuring the fidelity of his allies, and obtaining, by means of
negotiations, what, perhaps, he can after all secure only by war.