applauded my determination of not admitting a spy among us. “But,”
said he, in the most engaging manner, “as this sacrifice has been made
for the interest of all, it is not proper that you alone should be the
sufferer. Send to Gentilini, my _valet de pied_, and let him wait on
you: he will be very happy to earn a few Napoleons in addition to his
wages: besides, tell him it is by my desire.” Gentilini, at first,
cheerfully undertook the duty; but, in the evening, the poor fellow
came to inform me that some one had told him, it was not proper for
one of the Emperor’s servants to attend on a private person!... The
Emperor had the goodness to send for Gentilini, and to repeat the
orders with his own mouth.
Thus the Governor daily persecutes us in every imaginable way. I do
not mention all the circumstances of this kind that are continually
occurring, not because habit has taught me to accommodate myself to
them, but, because the vexations that arise from mere ill-nature are
but trifles in comparison with the greater miseries which we have to
endure....
If I attempt to portray the horrors of my own situation alone, let it
be considered that I am exiled, and probably for ever, to a desert
rock, two thousand leagues from home, confined in a small prison,
beneath a sky, in a climate, and on a soil, totally different from
those of my native country. I am hastening to a premature grave, the
only probable conclusion of my misery. Bereft of my wife, children,
and friends, who, though they still live, may be said to be no longer
in the same world with me; shut out from all communication with
mankind, I deplore the recollection of family affections, and the
charms of friendship and society.... Certainly, there is no man,
whatever be his country or his opinions, but must commiserate my
lot.... But, in a moment, I can reverse the picture, and my situation
will appear an enviable one!...
Where is the heart that does not beat at the recollection of the
achievements of Alexander and Cæsar? Who can approach the relics of
Charlemagne without emotion? How happy should we be could we recal the
words, the accents, of Henry IV.! Thus, when oppressed by mental
dejection, when I feel the necessity of rousing my drooping spirits,
while my heart is overflowing with these sensations, and my mind
filled with these ideas, I exclaim: I possess all this, and more than
this! Here, I am not surrounded by mere illusions and historical
recollections; I am in actual contact with the living man who has
accomplished so many prodigies. Every day, every moment, I may
contemplate the features of him who, with a glance, ordered battles,
and decided the fate of empires. I may gaze on the brow that is
adorned with the laurels of Rivoli, Marengo, Austerlitz, Wagram, Jena,
and Friedland. I may presume to touch the hand that has wielded so
many sceptres, and distributed so many crowns; which seized the
enemy’s colours at Arcole and Lodi; and which, on a solemn occasion,
surrendered into the hands of an afflicted wife the only proofs of her
husband’s guilt. I hear the voice of him who, when addressing his
troops, in sight of the Egyptian pyramids, said, “My lads, from the
summits of those monuments, forty centuries look down upon us!” who,
halting and uncovering before a column of wounded Austrian soldiers,
exclaimed, “Honour and respect to the unfortunate brave.” I converse,
almost familiarly, with the Monarch who ruled Europe; whose pastime
was the embellishment of our cities, and the prosperity of our
provinces; who raised us to so high a rank in the estimation of
nations; and who wafted our glory to the skies!... I see him, I hear
him speak, I attend on him, and, perhaps, even help to console him!...
Can I then lay claim to pity? On the contrary, will not thousands envy
my lot? Who can boast of possessing so many sources of happiness, in
circumstances similar to ours?
NEW WORKS PLANNED BY THE EMPEROR.—REMARKS ON GREAT COMMANDERS;
WAR, &C.—NAPOLEON’S OPINION’S ON VARIOUS
INSTITUTIONS.—ADVOCATES.—CURATES.—MISCELLANEOUS OBSERVATIONS.
14th.—The Emperor sent for me about six o’clock. He informed me that
he had just been dictating a chapter on maritime rights. He spoke to
me of some other works he had in view. I ventured to remind him of the
fourteen paragraphs which he had already planned, and to which I
alluded on a former occasion. He seemed pleased that I had mentioned
the circumstance, and assured me that he would, some day, carry his
design into execution.
He read and corrected the valuable notes which he had dictated to the
Grand Marshal on ancient and modern warfare, the different plans of
composing and regulating armies, &c. He afterwards entered into
conversation, and, among other things, said, “No series of great
actions is the mere work of chance and fortune; it is always the
result of reflection and genius. Great men rarely fail in the most
perilous undertakings. Look at Alexander, Cæsar, Hannibal, the great
Gustavus, and others; they always succeeded. Were they great men
merely because they were fortunate? No; but because, being great men,
they possessed the art of commanding fortune. When we come to inquire
into the causes of their success, we are astonished to find that they
did every thing to obtain it.
“Alexander, when scarcely beyond the age of boyhood, with a mere
handful of brave troops, conquered a quarter of the globe. But was
this achievement the result of a mere accidental irruption, a sort of
unexpected deluge? No; all was profoundly calculated, boldly executed,
and prudently managed. Alexander proved himself at once a
distinguished warrior, politician, and legislator. Unfortunately, on
attaining the zenith of glory and success, his head was turned, and
his heart corrupted. He commenced his career with the mind of Trajan;
but he closed it with the heart of Nero, and the manners of
Heliogabalus.” The Emperor here described the campaigns of Alexander
in such a manner as enabled me to view the subject in a totally new
light.
Alluding to Cæsar, the Emperor remarked that he, the reverse of
Alexander, had commenced his career at an advanced period of life;
that his youth had been passed in indolence and vice; but that he had
ultimately evinced the most active and elevated mind. He thought him
one of the most amiable characters in history. “Cæsar,” observed he,
“overcame the Gauls, and the laws of his country. But his great
warlike achievements must not be attributed merely to chance and
fortune.” Here he analyzed the victories of Cæsar, as he had done
those of Alexander.
“Hannibal,” continued the Emperor, “is perhaps the most surprising
character of any, from the intrepidity, confidence, and grandeur,
evinced in all his enterprises. At the age of twenty-six, he conceived
what is scarcely conceivable, and executed what must have been looked
upon as impossible. Renouncing all communication with his country, he
marched through hostile or unknown nations, which he was obliged to
attack and subdue. He crossed the Pyrenees and the Alps, which were
presumed to be impassable, and descended upon Italy, sacrificing the
half of his army for the mere acquisition of his field of battle, the
mere right of fighting. He occupied and governed Italy for the space
of sixteen years, being several times within a hair’s breadth of
possessing himself of Rome, and only relinquished his prey when his
enemies, profiting by the lesson he had set them, went to attack the
Carthaginian territory. Can it be supposed that Hannibal’s glorious
career and achievements were the mere result of chance, and fortune’s
favours? Certainly, Hannibal must have been endowed with great vigour
of mind, and he must also have possessed a vast consciousness of his
own skill in the art of war, when, being interrogated by his youthful
conqueror, he hesitated not to place himself, though subdued, next in
rank to Alexander and Pyrrhus, whom he esteemed as the first of
warriors.
“All the great Captains of antiquity,” continued Napoleon, “and those
who in modern times have successfully trodden in their steps,
performed vast achievements, only by conforming with the rules and
principles of the art; that is to say, by correct combinations, and by
justly comparing the relation between means and consequences, efforts
and obstacles. They succeeded only by the strict observance of these
rules, whatever may have been the boldness of their enterprises, or
the extent of the advantages gained. They invariably practised war as
a science. Thus they have become our great models, and it is only by
closely imitating them that we can hope to approach them.
“My greatest successes have been ascribed merely to good fortune; and
my reverses will no doubt be imputed to my faults. But if I should
write an account of my campaigns, it will be seen that, in both cases,
my reason and faculties were exercised in conformity with principles.”
It is to be hoped that the Emperor will execute the idea of writing
his campaigns. How invaluable would be Napoleon’s Commentaries!
The Emperor analyzed the characters of Gustavus-Adolphus and Condé:
with the latter, he said, science seemed to be instinctive, nature
having created him with maturity of intellect. Turenne, on the
contrary, had perfected his talent by dint of pains and study. I
remarked that Turenne had formed no pupils, while Condé had left many
distinguished ones behind him. “That was the mere caprice of chance,”
replied the Emperor; “the contrary ought to have happened. But it is
not always in the master’s power to form good pupils; nature must lend
her aid: the seed must be sown in a fertile soil.” He made many
remarks on Eugène, Marlborough, Vendome, &c. Frederick the Great, he
said, was in all respects a super-excellent tactician, and possessed
the art of rendering his troops absolute machines. “How often,” said
he, “men’s characters prove to be totally different from what their
early actions indicate! Do they themselves know what they really are?
Frederick,” continued he, “at the commencement of his career, fled
from his own victory; and, certainly the whole of his subsequent
history proves him to have been the most intrepid, most tenacious, and
coolest of men.”
After dinner, the Emperor, who was pleased with the subject of the
dictations and conversation in which he had been engaged during the
morning, discoursed on the same topics for nearly an hour; discussing
in the most masterly and ingenious way a variety of points connected
with the art of war.
Alluding to the great difference between ancient and modern warfare,
he observed: “The invention of fire-arms has wrought a total change.
This great discovery operates entirely to the advantage of assailants,
though many moderns have maintained the contrary opinion. The
corporeal strength of the ancients,” added he, “was in harmony with
their offensive and defensive weapons; ours, on the other hand, are
entirely beyond our sphere.”
Should the Emperor leave behind him his thoughts on these points, they
will be truly invaluable. In course of the evening, he pronounced his
opinion on several military subjects; sometimes embracing the highest
questions, and sometimes descending into the minutest details.
He remarked that war frequently depended on accident, and that, though
a commander ought to be guided by general principles, yet he should
never lose sight of any thing that may enable him to profit by
accidental circumstances. The vulgar call good-fortune that which, on
the contrary, is produced by the calculations of genius.
In the present mode of military operations, he thought it advisable
that greater consistency should be given to the third rank of
infantry, or, that it should be suppressed; and he explained his
reasons for this.
He was of opinion that infantry charged by cavalry should fire from a
distance, instead of firing closely, according to the present
practice. He proved the advantage of this method.
He observed that infantry and cavalry left to themselves, without
artillery, could procure no decisive result; but that, with the aid of
artillery, all things else being equal, cavalry might destroy
infantry. He clearly explained these facts, and many others besides.
He added that artillery really decided the fate of armies and nations;
that men now fought with blows of cannon balls, as they fought with
blows of fists; for in battle, as in a siege, the art consisted in
making numerous discharges converge on one and the same point; that,
amidst the conflict, he who had sufficient address to direct a mass of
artillery suddenly and unexpectedly on any particular point of the
enemy’s force was sure of the victory. This, he said, had been his
grand secret and his grand plan of tactics.
The Emperor conceived that it would be impossible to form a perfect
army, without a revolution in the manners and education of the
soldier, and perhaps even the officer. This could not be accomplished
with our ovens, magazines, commissaries, and carriages. There could be
no perfect army, until, in imitation of the Romans, the soldier should
receive his supply of corn, grind it in his hand-mill, and bake his
bread himself. We could not hope to possess an army, until we should
abolish all our monstrous train of civil attendants.
“I contemplated all these changes,” said he, “but they never could
have been put in practice, except during profound peace. An army in a
state of war would infallibly have rebelled against such innovations.”
I will here insert some notes which I have collected at various times,
relative to the new plans projected by the Emperor, not only in the
army, but on many other points essential to social organization.
The Emperor often observed that he intended, on the establishment of
peace, to induce the Powers of Europe to make an immense reduction in
their standing armies. He wished that each sovereign should limit
himself to his guard, as the skeleton of the army, to be raised in
case of necessity. He intended, should he have found himself compelled
to keep up a numerous army in time of peace, to employ the troops in
public works, and to have disciplined and provisioned them on a
peculiar plan.
He said he had found that, in his plans of campaigns and expeditions,
the greatest difficulty arose from the modern method of provisioning
troops; by which it was necessary first to find corn, then to get it
ground, and next to have the flour made into bread. The Roman custom,
which he highly approved, and which he had intended to introduce
wholly or in part, would have obviated all these inconveniences. “By
the adoption of the ancient plan,” said he, “an army might have
marched to the end of the world. But, it would require time to bring
about such a transition. It could not have been accomplished by a mere
order of the day. I had long entertained the idea of such a change;
but however great might have been my power, I should never have
attempted to introduce it by force. There is no subordination with
empty stomachs. Such an object could only have been effected in time
of peace, and by insensible degrees: I should have accomplished it by
creating new military manners.”
The Emperor constantly insisted on subjecting the whole nation to the
laws of the conscription. “I am inexorable on the subject of
exemption,” said he, one day in the Council of State;—“it would be
criminal. How could I reconcile it to my conscience to expose the life
of one man for the advantage of another? I do not even think I would
exempt my own son.” On another occasion, he said, “The conscription is
the everlasting root of a nation, its moral purification, the real
foundation of its habits. By means of the conscription,” he added,
“the nation was classed according to its real interests for defence
abroad, and tranquillity at home. Organized, built up in this way, the
French people might have defied the world, and might with justice have
renewed the saying of the proud Gauls:—_If the sky should fall, we
will prop it up with our lances._”
According to Napoleon’s plans, the conscription, so far from impeding
education, would have been the means of promoting it. He intended to
have established, in each regiment, a school for the commencement or
continuation of instruction of every kind, either in science, the
liberal arts, or mere mechanics. “And nothing would have been so
easy,” he remarked. “The principle once adopted, we should have seen
each regiment supplied with all that was necessary, out of its own
ranks. And what advantages would have accrued to the mass of society
by the dispersion of these young men, with their acquired knowledge,
even had it been merely elementary, and the habits necessarily
produced by it!”
The Emperor one day, in the course of conversation, observed that, if
he had had leisure there were few institutions in which he would not
have made improvements. He dwelt on the evils arising from lawsuits,
which, he said, were an absolute leprosy, a social cancer. “My code,”
said he, “had singularly diminished lawsuits, by placing numerous
causes within the comprehension of every individual. But there still
remained much for the legislator to accomplish. Not that he could hope
to prevent men from quarrelling: this they have done in all ages; but
he might have prevented a third party in society from living upon the
quarrels of the other two and even stirring up disputes to promote
their own interest. It was, therefore, my intention to establish the
rule that lawyers should never receive fees except when they gained
causes. Thus, what litigations would have been prevented! On the first
examination of a cause, a lawyer would have rejected it, had it been
at all doubtful. There would have been no fear that a man, living by
his labour, would have undertaken to conduct a lawsuit, from mere
motives of vanity; and if he had, he would himself have been the only
sufferer in case of failure. But my idea was opposed by a multitude of
objections, and as I had no time to lose, I postponed the further
consideration of the subject. Yet I am still convinced,” added he,
“that the scheme might, with certain modifications, have been turned
to the best account.”
When speaking of the clergy, the Emperor remarked that he intended to
have rendered curates a very important and useful class of men. “The
more enlightened they are,” said he, “the less will they be inclined
to abuse their ministry.” Therefore, in addition to their theological
studies, he wished them to acquire a knowledge of agriculture and the
elements of medicine and law. “Thus,” said he, “dogmatism and
controversy, the battle-horse and the arms of fools and fanatics,
would gradually have become more and more rare in the pulpit, whence
would have been promulgated the doctrines of pure morality, always
pleasing, eloquent, and persuasive. As men usually love to discourse
on what they know, the clergy would have instructed the peasantry in
their agricultural labours, counselled them against chicanery, and
given advice to the sick. Such pastors would have been real blessings
to their flocks; and, as they would have been allowed a liberal
stipend, they would have enjoyed high consideration: they would have
respected themselves, and would have been respected by all. They would
have possessed the power of feudal lords, and they might, without
danger, have exercised all their influence. A curate would have been a
natural justice of peace, a true moral chief, to whom the direction of
the population might have been safely intrusted, because he would
himself have been dependent on the Government for his appointment and
salary. If to all this be added the study and privation necessary for
the calling, and supposing the individuals to be possessed of good
qualities of heart and mind, it must be confessed that pastors, thus
constituted, would have produced a revolution in society highly
advantageous to the cause of morality.”
I recollect having heard the Emperor, in the Council of State, declaim
against the perquisites of ministers of the Gospel, and point out the
indecorum of their trafficking, as he said, with sacred, and yet
indispensable, objects. He therefore proposed putting an end to this
practice. “By rendering the acts of religion gratuitous,” he observed,
“we shall make their dignity, beneficence, and charity more
conspicuous; and confer a great benefit on the poor. Nothing would be
easier than to substitute legal imposts for these perquisites. Every
one is born, many marry, and all die; and yet births, marriages, and
deaths, are three great subjects of religious jobbing, which, in my
opinion, are particularly objectionable, and which I would wish to
abolish. Since these are matters which concern all equally, why not
place them under a special impost, or include them among the subjects
of general taxation?” This proposal had no result.
I also recollect having heard the Emperor suggest that all public
functionaries, and men employed under Government, even officers in the
army, should themselves form a fund for their future pensions, by a
slight deduction from their annual salaries. “Thus,” said he, “the
future support of these individuals would no longer be an object of
solicitation or a favour; it would be a right. The deductions made
from their salaries would be thrown into a sinking fund, liable to
this application. It would be a certain property, which they might
regard as their own, and upon which they might draw, without
opposition, on retiring from the public service.” It was urged, in
objection, that there were incomes, those of military officers in
particular, that would not admit of deduction.—“Well,” replied the
Emperor, “I will make up the deficiency, I will add whatever is
necessary for the deduction.”—“But,” it was asked, “what end will that
answer? If we have to pay the same amount, where will be the economy?
where will be the advantage?”—“The advantage,” replied the Emperor,
“will be in the difference between certainty and uncertainty; between
the settled course of the treasury, which would no longer have
occasion to concern itself about these accidents, and the tranquillity
of citizens, who would thus possess their guarantee.”
The Emperor warmly defended this idea, and adverted to it oftener than
once; it however produced no result. I have already remarked that I
have often known him to enter upon extempore discussions in this way,
and even to comment on others after they were printed.
The following brief quotation will afford an idea of the labours and
activity of the Emperor’s reign:—“It has been calculated that
Napoleon’s Government, in the space of fourteen years and five months,
presents, 61,139 deliberations of the Council of State, on different
subjects!”[14]
Footnote 14:
Montvéran’s _Historie critique et raisonnée_
[Illustration:
NAPOLEON AT ST. HELENA.
London: Published for Henry Colburn, April, 1836.
]
I have often heard Napoleon repeat that he wished for the
establishment of an European Institute and European prizes, to
superintend and stimulate the learned societies of every country.
He would have wished to fix throughout Europe, uniformity of coins,
weights, and measures, and also uniformity of legislation. “Why,” said
he, “might not my Code Napoleon have served as the groundwork for a
European Code, and my Imperial University have been the basis of a
European University? Thus the whole population of Europe would have
become one and the same family; and every man, while he travelled
abroad, would still have found himself at home.”
Various other subjects, of the above nature, were canvassed at
different times; but I refrain from noticing them, as my memory does
not enable me to enter into details.
ALARMING CHANGE IN THE EMPEROR.—THE GOVERNOR SURROUNDS US WITH
FORTIFICATIONS.—PANIC TERRORS OF SIR HUDSON LOWE.—GENERAL
LAMARQUE.—MADAME RECAMIER AND A PRUSSIAN PRINCE.
15th.—About three o’clock, the Emperor, with whom I breakfasted this
morning, sent for me. He wished to take the air, and he endeavoured to
walk as far as the wood; but the air was too keen for him. He then
called at the Grand Marshal’s, and he sat for a considerable time in
an arm-chair, apparently quite exhausted. We remarked the colour of
his countenance, how much he had fallen away, and his evident
debility; and we were much distressed at the change observable in him.