(Signed) COUNT DE MONTHOLON.
“P.S.—I had, Sir, signed this letter, when I received yours of the 17th,
to which you annex the estimate of an annual sum of 20,000_l._ sterling,
which you consider indispensable to meet the expenses of the
establishment of Longwood, after having made all the reductions which
you have thought possible. The consideration of this estimate can, in no
respect, concern us; the Emperor’s table is scarcely supplied with what
is necessary; all the provisions are of bad quality and four times as
dear as at Paris. You require a fund of twelve thousand pounds sterling
from the Emperor, as your government allows you only eight thousand
pounds for all these expenses. I have had the honour of telling you,
that the Emperor had no funds; that no letter had been received or
written for a year; and that he was altogether unacquainted with what is
passing or what may have passed in Europe. Transported by violence to
this rock, at the distance of two thousand leagues, without being able
to receive or to write any letter, he now finds himself at the
discretion of the English agents. The Emperor has uniformly desired and
still desires to provide himself for all his expenses of every kind, and
he will do so, as speedily as you shall give possibility to the means,
by taking off the prohibition, laid upon the merchants of the island, of
carrying on his correspondence, and releasing it from all kind of
inquisition on your part or on that of any of your agents. The moment
the Emperor’s wants shall be known in Europe, the persons who interest
themselves for him will transmit the necessary funds for his supplies.
“The letter of Lord Bathurst, which you have communicated to me, gives
rise to strange ideas! Can your ministers then be so ignorant as not to
know that the spectacle of a great man struggling with adversity is the
most sublime of spectacles? Can they be ignorant, that Napoleon at St.
Helena, amidst persecutions of every kind, against which his serenity is
his only shield, is greater, more sacred, more venerable than on the
first throne of the world, where he was, so long, the arbiter of Kings?
Those, who fail in respect to Napoleon, thus situated, merely degrade
their own character and the nation which they represent!”
MY ENGLISH FAMILY.—JUST DEBT OF GRATITUDE TO THE ENGLISH ON THE PART OF
THE EMIGRANTS, &C.—GENERAL JOUBERT.—PETERSBURG.—MOSCOW; THE
CONFLAGRATION.—PROJECTS OF NAPOLEON, HAD HE RETURNED VICTORIOUS.
24th.—I went, at two o’clock, to the Emperor, in his apartment. He had
sent for my Atlas in the morning. I found him finishing his examination
of the map of Russia and of that part of America adjoining the Russian
establishments.
He had suffered, and coughed a great deal, during the night. The weather
had, however, become milder. While he was dressing to go out, he often
dwelt upon the happy idea of the Atlas, the merit of its execution, and
the immensity of its contents. He concluded, as usual, with saying;
“What a collection! what details! How complete in all its parts!”
The Emperor went to the garden. I told him, that I had written, in the
morning, to England, and answered the letter which I had read to him two
or three days ago. “Your English family,” he then observed, “seem to be
very good kind of people; they are very fond of you, and you appear very
much attached to them.” I answered; “Sire, I took care of them in
France, during their ten years captivity, and they had taken care of me
in England, during my ten years emigration. It is altogether the
hospitality of the ancients which we exercise towards each other. I rely
upon them, in every respect, and they are at liberty to dispose of all I
possess.”—“This,” said he, “is a very happy connexion. How did you
obtain it? To what are you indebted for it?” I then told him how I
became acquainted with this family.
“Never was the plank, by the assistance of which an unfortunate person,
after shipwreck, preserved his life, dearer to him than this family is
to me. There are, Sire, no favours, no treasures, which can compensate
the kindnesses I have received from it, and the happiness it has
conferred upon me.
“When the horrible excesses of our revolution compelled us to take
refuge in England, our emigration produced the liveliest sensation in
that country; the arrival of so many illustrious exiles, their past
fortunes, and their then forlorn condition, were impressed on every
mind, and filled every heart. They became the subject of consideration
in political assemblies, in places of divine worship, in fashionable
circles, and in private families. That catastrophe agitated every class,
and excited every sympathy. We were surrounded by a generous and feeling
multitude. We were the objects of the most delicate attentions, and of
the most substantial favours. Such, it must be acknowledged, was the
affecting sight held out by a vast portion of English society, even in
spite of the difference of opinions. It is a testimony due from our
gratitude to the truth of history.
“I was then in London, with a cousin of my name, whose situation at the
court of Versailles had enabled her to be of some service to the most
distinguished persons in Europe, where she was a lady of honour to the
Princess Lamballe, who was herself sub-intendant of the Queen’s
household. That turned out a fortunate circumstance for our family. My
cousin experienced proofs of the greatest benevolence; a great number of
persons were eager to make a tender of their services, and, among
others, a certain young couple. The wife was charming, and distinguished
for the elegance and dignity of her manners; the husband was of an easy
temper, of a mild and honourable character. Their house was almost
instantly open to my cousin and to all her relations, who had every
reason to find themselves as much at their ease there, as if they had
been in their own families.
“This worthy couple took every occasion to oblige and to be of use to
our refugees. Their house was frequented by the most distinguished
emigrants. A great number of us there contracted a debt of gratitude
which, notwithstanding all its extent, I should not despair of paying,
were I alone left to discharge it. I shall leave it as a legacy to my
children, who, if they resemble me, will look upon it as sacred, and
deem themselves happy in redeeming the obligation.
“Elevation of soul, and the emotions of a French heart, characterized
the conduct of Lady .... When the Prince of Condé (arrived in London,)
was looking for a country residence, she sent me to offer him the superb
mansion which she possessed, in the county of Durham. The Prince, after
hearing the particulars, having remarked that it would, no doubt, cost
him a King’s ransom, was agreeably surprised at learning that it was
presented to him by a French woman, who would, she said, consider that
she had received an inestimable price, should a Condé condescend to
inhabit it. He went, instantly, to express his acknowledgments in
person.
“This family visited Paris after the peace of Amiens, and it was in its
bosom, and through its protection, that I was enabled, a few days
sooner, to breathe the air of my country. I was exempted, through its
means, from the tedious and painful formalities required from me by the
act of amnesty on the frontier, and I felt it my duty to provide for
their accommodation at Paris, with much more facility and less
inconvenience than they could have done themselves. I had also the
happiness, when the measure for detaining the English residents was
carried into effect, and this family was placed among the number, of
alleviating their condition in my turn, and becoming their security.
“We were, at length, separated by time and circumstances; but they have
lost nothing in my recollection; and the needle is less constant to the
pole, and less faithful in its guidance, than are my thoughts and my
gratitude, with respect to those good and valuable friends. Such, Sire,
is what your Majesty is pleased to call my English family.”
We had, however, during my relation, walked to the stable, and called
for the calash. The Emperor ordered it to take us up at the bottom of
the wood. We waited for it a long time, because Madame de Montholon was
seized with a sudden indisposition. Her husband came to apologize for
the delay, and the Emperor made him get in.
The conversation turned, during our ride, upon General Joubert, whose
brother-in-law and aid-de-camp M. de Montholon had been.
“Joubert,” said the Emperor, “entertained a high veneration for me; he
deplored my absence at every reverse experienced by the Republic, during
the expedition to Egypt. He was, at that time, at the head of the army
of Italy; he had taken me for his model, aspired to imitate my plans,
and attempted to accomplish nothing less than what I afterwards effected
in Brumaire: he had, however, the Jacobins to assist him. The measures
and intrigues of that party, to place the means of executing that grand
enterprise in his power, had raised him to the command in Italy, after
the disasters of Scherer; of that Scherer who was an ignorant peculator,
and deserving of every censure. But Joubert was killed at Novi, in his
first rencounter with Suwarrow; any attempt of his, at Paris, would have
failed; he had not yet acquired a sufficient degree of glory, of
consistency, and maturity. He was, by nature, calculated for all these
acquirements, but, at that moment, he was not adequately formed; he was
still too young, and that enterprise was then beyond his ability.”
The Emperor could not take more than one round; he found himself too
much fatigued, and was far from being well.
At half past eight o’clock, the Emperor ordered me to be called. He told
me that he had been obliged to take a bath, and thought he was a little
feverish. He felt that he had suddenly caught cold, but he had ceased to
cough since he was in the bath. He continued for a long time in the
water. He dined in it, and a small table was laid for me by the side.
The Emperor reverted to the history of Russia. “Had Peter the Great,” he
asked, “acted with wisdom in founding a capital at Petersburgh at so
vast an expense? Would not the results have been greater, had he
expended all his money at Moscow? What was his object? Had he
accomplished it?” I replied: “If Peter had remained at Moscow, his
nation would have continued Muscovite, a people altogether Asiatic; it
was necessary that it should be displaced for its reform and alteration.
He had, therefore, selected a position on the very frontiers, wrested
from the enemy, and in founding his capital, and accumulating all his
strength, he rendered it invulnerable; he connected himself with
European society; he established his power in the Baltic sea, by which
he could with ease prevent his natural enemies, the Poles and the
Swedes, from forming alliances, upon occasion, with the nations situated
in their rear.”
The Emperor said that “he was not altogether satisfied with these
reasons. Be it as it may,” he observed, “Moscow has disappeared, and who
can compute the wealth that has been swallowed up there? Let us
contemplate Paris, with the accumulation of buildings and of industry,
the work of centuries. Had its capital, for the 1400 years of its
existence, increased but a million a year, what a sum! Let us connect
with that the warehouses, the furniture, the union of sciences and the
arts, the complete establishments of trade and commerce, &c., and this
is the picture of Moscow; and all that vanished in an instant! What a
catastrophe! Does not the bare idea of it make one shudder?... I do not
think that it could be replaced, at the expense of two thousand
millions.”
He expatiated at great length on all these events, and let a word escape
him which was too characteristic not to be specially noted down by me.
The name of Rostopchin having been pronounced, I presumed to remark that
the colour at that time given to his patriotic action had very much
surprised me, for he had interested me instead of exciting my
indignation: nay, I had envied him!... The Emperor replied with singular
vivacity, and with a kind of contraction which betrayed vexation: “If
many at Paris had been capable of reading and feeling it in that way,
believe me, I should have applauded it! But I had no choice left me.”
Resuming the subject of Moscow, he said:—“Never, with all the powers of
poetry, have the fictions of the burning of Troy equalled the reality of
that of Moscow. The city was of wood, the wind was violent; all the
pumps had been taken away. It was literally an ocean of fire. Nothing
had been saved from it; our march was so rapid, our entrance so sudden.
We found even diamonds on the women’s toilets, they had fled so
precipitately. They wrote to us a short time afterwards that they had
sought to escape from the first excesses of a dangerous soldiery; that
they recommended their property to the generosity of the conquerors, and
would not fail to re-appear in the course of a few days to solicit their
kindness and testify their gratitude.
“The population was far from having plotted that atrocity. Even they
themselves delivered up to us three or four hundred criminals, who
escaped from prison, and had executed it,”—“But, Sire, may I presume to
ask, if Moscow had not been burnt, did not your Majesty intend to
establish your quarters there?”—“Certainly,” answered the Emperor, “and
I should then have held up the singular spectacle of an army wintering
in the midst of a hostile nation, pressing upon it from all points; it
would have been the ship beset by the ice. You would have been in France
without any intelligence from me for several months; but you would have
remained quiet, you would have acted wisely. Cambacèrés would, as usual,
have conducted affairs in my name, and all would have been as orderly as
if I had been present. The winter, in Russia, would have weighed heavy
on every one; the torpor would have been general. The spring also would
have returned for all the world. All would have been at once on their
legs, and it is well known that the French are as nimble as any others.
“On the first appearance of fine weather, I should have marched against
the enemy; I should have beaten them; I should have been master of their
empire. Alexander, be assured, would not have suffered me to proceed so
far. He would have agreed to all the conditions which I might have
dictated, and France would then have begun to enjoy all her advantages.
And, truly, my success depended upon a mere trifle. For I had undertaken
the expedition to fight against armed men, not against nature in the
violence of her wrath. I defeated armies, but I could not conquer the
flames, the frost, stupefaction, and death!... I was forced to yield to
fate. And, after all, how unfortunate for France!—indeed for all Europe!
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