“But,” observed the Emperor afterwards, “those amongst you emigrants who
had created for yourselves resources abroad must have felt quite lost
when you returned to France, and ruined once more?”—“Certainly, Sire;
for we found nothing of what we had formerly left in France, and we had
just abandoned the little we had made ourselves. But we had not
calculated: our impatience to revisit our native land had over-balanced
every other consideration, and several amongst us soon found themselves
in the greatest distress, in want of every thing, although acquainted
and even intimate with many of the great personages of the day—with your
Ministers, Sire, your Councillors of State, and others. This
circumstance gave rise to a _bon mot_ from one of our _wits_. Meeting
one day, in the saloon of the Minister for Maritime Affairs, a friend
who like himself hardly knew how to manage to subsist, he exclaimed, by
way of consolation: “Well, my friend, if we die of hunger, we may still
have two or three Ministers at our funeral.” The Emperor laughed
heartily at the jest, and admitted that it gave an exact description of
the situation of affairs at the time.
After his lesson of English, and the conversation which followed, the
Emperor went out for a walk. We walked to the end of the wood, where the
calash drove up to us.
On the Emperor’s return, the Doctor came to inform him that Colonel
Reade, whom he had consented to receive instead of the Governor, wished
to be presented to him. Colonel Reade delivered to the Emperor a note of
considerable length; and I was sent for to translate it. It contained
the communications which Sir Hudson Lowe had for three or four days past
been vainly endeavouring to make in person. The note was couched in the
most offensive terms, and the Governor wished to have reserved to
himself the satisfaction of communicating its contents to the Emperor.
This is a characteristic trait, and it requires no comment. The harsh
terms in which it was expressed, and in particular the repeated threat
that we should be separated from the Emperor, vexed us exceedingly, and
put us out of spirits for the remainder of the day.
THE EMPEROR READS MY JOURNAL, AND DICTATES TO ME.—CONFERENCE BETWEEN THE
GRAND MARSHAL AND THE GOVERNOR.
5th.—At an early hour this morning, before I had risen, I heard some one
softly open my chamber-door. My apartment is so encumbered with my own
bed and that of my son, that it is no easy matter to enter it. I
perceived a hand drawing aside my bed-curtain: it was the Emperor’s. I
was reading a book of geometry, a circumstance which amused him very
much, and, as he said, saved my reputation. I instantly rose, and soon
rejoined the Emperor, who was proceeding to the wood alone. He conversed
for a considerable time on the events of the preceding day. He then
returned to the house for the purpose of taking a bath: he was very ill,
and had passed a bad night.
He sent for me at one o’clock. He was in the drawing-room, and he
expressed a wish to take his English lesson. The weather was very hot
and close. The Emperor felt languid and dispirited: he could not bend
his mind to study, and several times fell asleep. At length he rose,
saying he was determined to shake off his lethargy, and he proceeded to
the billiard-room to breathe a little fresh air.
Conversing on the subject of the Campaigns of Italy, he enquired what I
had done with the first rough draughts, observing that all the chapters
had been several times re-copied. I told him that I had carefully
preserved them. He desired to have all the manuscripts brought to him,
and, laying aside two complete copies, he sent the rest into the kitchen
to be burnt.
I have already several times mentioned that the Emperor knew I kept a
Journal. This was a secret, and therefore he never spoke to me on the
subject, except when we happened to be alone together. He often asked me
whether I still continued my Journal, and what I could find to set down
in it. “Sire,” I replied, “all that your Majesty does and says, from
morning to night.” “Then,” said he, “you must have a monstrous deal of
repetition, and must tell many useless things! But no matter, go on,
some day we will look it over together.”
When he visited my chamber, he frequently found the faithful Aly engaged
in re-copying my Journal; for he had kindly offered to employ himself in
this way, during his leisure hours. The Emperor sometimes cast his eyes
upon Aly’s writing, and, after reading a few lines, that is to say, as
soon as he ascertained what it was, he would turn away and speak about
something else, without ever alluding to the subject. This is precisely
what had occurred this morning; and the Emperor, recollecting the
circumstance, said that he wished at length to have a sight of this
famous _jumble of trifles_. My son brought a portion of the manuscript,
and the Emperor spent upwards of two hours in perusing it. The
introduction, which relates to myself personally, fixed his attention;
he read it over twice, and then said: “Well, very well; this is a fine
inheritance for little Emanuel.” As to the Journal, he approved of its
form and general plan. He made several corrections with his own hand, on
those parts which related to his family and his childhood. He desired my
son to take the pen, and he dictated to him some details respecting
Brienne, Father Patrault, &c. When he had done, he desired me to
continue my labours, as he was pleased with them; and he promised to
furnish me with many anecdotes, particularly concerning Alexander and
the other sovereigns.
He afterwards took a drive in the calash, in which I accompanied him,
and the Journal again became the topic of conversation. The Emperor said
a great deal on the subject, and expressed himself very much pleased
with the idea. He gave me several hints respecting it, and concluded by
observing that, from the peculiar circumstances under which it was
produced, it might become a work truly unique in its character, and an
invaluable treasure to his son.
On our return to Longwood, we found the Grand Marshal, who had just
returned from Plantation House, where he had been to hold a conference
on the subject of the communications of yesterday. We anxiously awaited
the answer he might bring back. He informed us that a proposition had
been made, which was nothing less than that four of us should be
separated from the Emperor. There were many other minor points of a very
vexatious nature; but this one caused us to lose sight of all the rest.
The Governor had, however, finally agreed to remove only the Pole and
three of the domestics. According to the report of the Grand Marshal, I
was the individual upon whom the storm had lowered, of whom the Governor
most particularly complained, and whose removal, he said, he should
certainly have decided upon, had he not thought me too useful to the
Emperor. He complained that I was constantly writing to Europe,
declaiming against the Government and the injustice and oppression which
I alleged were exercised towards us. His other subjects of complaint
were, that I spoke of the Emperor to the strangers who visited Longwood
in such a way as to excite their interest; that I was constantly
endeavouring to establish communications with different individuals on
the island (and he mentioned the instance of Mrs. Sturmer); that I had
addressed, or endeavoured to transmit, various documents to Europe, &c.
However, after having spoken of me in the most angry terms, for some
reason or other, he endeavoured to soften down what he had said by a few
complimentary observations. He remarked that he could scarcely have
expected such conduct in a man possessing so much information, and whose
good character was established throughout Europe.
After dinner, the Emperor amused himself by solving some problems in
geometry and algebra: this, he said, reminded him of his youthful days;
and it surprised us all to find that the subjects were still so fresh in
his recollection.
PECULIAR CIRCUMSTANCE CONNECTED WITH MY JOURNAL.—THE
EMPIRE OF OPINION.—TALMA, CRESCENTINI, &C.
6th—7th. During these two days, a circumstance has occurred, which is so
nearly connected with the nature of the present work, that I cannot omit
noticing it. I have just mentioned that the Emperor had expressed
himself well satisfied with my journal: he alluded to it several times
in the course of the day, assuring me that he should feel great pleasure
in perusing and correcting it. This information, as it may be supposed,
was highly gratifying to me. The moment which I had so long and ardently
looked for had at length arrived. That which I had hastily, and,
perhaps, inaccurately, collected, was now about to receive an
inestimable correction and sanction. Imperfect points would be
developed, chasms filled up, and obscurities explained. What a fund of
historical truths and political secrets was I about to receive! Elated
by these expectations, I the first day presented myself to the Emperor
at the usual hour, having my journal with me; but he began to dictate to
me on a totally different subject, and I was obliged to put up with the
disappointment. Next day, the same thing occurred again. I now wished to
call the Emperor’s attention to my Journal; but he did not appear to
understand me, and I took the hint. I know Napoleon so well! He
possesses in the highest degree the art of not seeming to understand; he
resorts to it frequently, and always for some particular object. In the
present instance I understood him sufficiently, and I did not again
attempt to draw his attention to the subject. At first I was much
puzzled to guess the motive that had induced him to act thus; and I made
several conjectures, which have probably occurred to the reader, as well
as to myself. A few days afterwards I was forced away from him, though I
had not the least cause in the world to anticipate this fatal event.
I have dwelt on this circumstance with scrupulous exactness, because I
conceive that it affords a new guarantee of my sincerity, and serves to
explain precisely the nature of my Journal. Of the great bulk of its
contents, and in particular the important events described in it, no
doubt can be entertained. Some involuntary errors may, however, have
crept into the details, from the hasty manner in which they were
collected, and from my being deprived of the advantage of having the
manuscript revised by the only individual who was capable of correcting
its inaccuracies.
The Emperor, while he was dressing and waiting for the Grand Marshal to
take his turn in writing, amused himself by conversing on different
subjects.
He spoke of the influence of opinion, to which he so frequently alludes.
He traced its secret progress, its uncertainty, and the caprice of its
decisions. He then adverted to the natural delicacy of the French, which
he said was exquisite in matters of decorum, the laudable susceptibility
of our manners, and the graceful action and gentleness of touch which
authority must employ, if an attempt is made to interfere with the
national feeling.
“In conformity with my system,” observed he, “of amalgamating all kinds
of merit, and of rendering one and the same reward universal, I had an
idea of presenting the cross of the Legion of Honour to Talma; but I
refrained from doing this, in consideration of our capricious manners
and absurd prejudices. I wished to make a first experiment in an affair
that was unimportant, and I accordingly gave the Iron Crown to
Crescentini. The decoration was foreign, and so was the individual on
whom it was conferred. This circumstance was less likely to attract
public notice or to render my conduct the subject of discussion; at
worst, it could only give rise to a few malicious jokes. Such,”
continued the Emperor, “is the influence of public opinion. I
distributed sceptres at will, and thousands readily bowed beneath their
sway: and yet I could not give away a bit of ribbon without the chance
of incurring disapprobation; for I believe my experiment, with regard to
Crescentini, proved unsuccessful.” “It did, Sire,” observed some one
present. “The circumstance occasioned a great outcry in Paris; it drew
forth a general anathema in all the drawing-rooms of the metropolis, and
afforded ample scope for the expression of malignant feeling. However,
at one of the evening parties of the Faubourg Saint-Germain, a _bon-mot_
had the effect of completely stemming the torrent of indignation. A
pompous orator was holding forth, in an eloquent strain, on the subject
of the honour that had been conferred on Crescentini. He declared it to
be a disgrace, a horror, a perfect profanation, and inquired what right
Crescentini could have to such a distinction? On hearing this, the
beautiful Madame G—— who was present, rose majestically from her chair,
and, with a truly theatrical tone and gesture, exclaimed, ‘_Et sa
blessoure Monsieur!_ do you make no allowance for that?’ This produced a
general burst of laughter and applause, and poor Madame G—- was very
much embarrassed by her success.”
The Emperor, who now heard this anecdote for the first time, was highly
amused by it. He often afterwards alluded to it, and occasionally
related it himself.
At dinner, the Emperor informed us that he had worked for twelve hours;
and we observed that his day was not yet ended. He seemed to be ill and
fatigued.