INTRODUCTION. (continued 3)

The Emperor one day communicated to me some details respecting this old friendship:—“I was,” said he, “very young when I first knew this lady; I was proud of the favourable impression I had made on her, and seized every opportunity of shewing her all the attention in my power. I will mention one circumstance, to shew how authority is sometimes abused, and on what men’s fate may depend: for I am no worse than the rest. I was walking one day with the Representative’s wife, inspecting our positions in the vicinity of the Col di Tende, when I suddenly took it into my head to give her an idea of an engagement, and, for this purpose, ordered the attack of an advanced post. We were conquerors, it is true; but the affair could be attended by no advantage. The attack was a mere whim, and yet it cost the lives of several men. I have never failed to reproach myself whenever I look back on this affair.”

The events of Thermidor having produced a change in the Committees of the Convention, Aubry, formerly a captain of artillery, was appointed to direct the Committee of War, and he re-modelled the army. He did not forget himself; he promoted himself to the rank of general of artillery, and favoured several of his old comrades, to the injury of the inferior officers, whom he dismissed. Napoleon, who was at this time scarcely twenty-five years of age, became a general of infantry, and he was chosen for the service of La Vendée. This circumstance induced him to quit the Army of Italy, in order to protest earnestly against the change, which, on every account, was unsatisfactory to him. Finding Aubry inflexible, and even offended at his just representations, he gave in his resignation. Only a short time elapsed before he was again employed in the Topographical Committee, by which the movements of the army and 102the plans of the campaigns were arranged: he was thus engaged at the period of the 13th of Vendemiaire.

Napoleon’s expostulation with Aubry on the subject of his new appointment formed a perfect scene: he insisted vehemently, because he had facts to bear him out; Aubry was obstinate and bitter, because he had power in his hands. He told Napoleon that he was too young, and that he must let older men go before him; Napoleon replied that a soldier soon grew old on the field of battle, and that he had just come from it. Aubry had never been in any engagement. They came to very high words.

I informed the Emperor that, on returning from my emigration, I occupied for a considerable time, in the Rue Saint Florentin, the identical apartment in which this scene took place. I had frequently heard it spoken of; and though it was described by unfriendly tongues, each, nevertheless, took great interest in relating the details, and in trying to guess the part of the room in which any particular gesture was made, or any remarkable word spoken.

The history of the famous day of Vendemiaire, which had so important an influence on the fate of the Revolution and of Napoleon, will shew that he hesitated for some time before he undertook the defence of the Convention.

On the night succeeding that day, Napoleon presented himself to the Committee of Forty, which was established at the Tuileries. He wanted to procure mortars and ammunition from Meudon; but such was the circumspection of the President (Cambacéres) that, in spite of the dangers which had marked the day, he refused to sign the order; and merely, by way of accommodating the matter, requested that the guns and ammunition might be placed at the disposal of the General.

During his command of Paris, subsequently to the 13th of Vendemiaire, Napoleon had to encounter a great scarcity, which occasioned several popular commotions. One day when the usual distribution had not taken place, crowds of people collected round the bakers’ shops. Napoleon was parading about the city with a party of his 103staff to preserve public tranquillity. A crowd of persons, chiefly women, assembled round him, loudly calling for bread. The crowd augmented, the outcries increased, and the situation of Napoleon and his officers became critical. A woman, of monstrous size and corpulence, was particularly conspicuous by her gestures and exclamations. “Those fine epauletted fellows,” said she, pointing to the officers, “laugh at our distress: so long as they can eat and grow fat, they care not if the poor people die of hunger.” Napoleon turned to her, and said, “Good woman, look at me; which is fatter, you or I?” Napoleon was at that time extremely thin: “I was a mere slip of parchment,” said he. A general burst of laughter disarmed the fury of the populace, and the staff-officers continued their round.

The narrative of the thirteenth of Vendemiaire shews how Napoleon became acquainted with Madame de Beauharnais, and how he contracted the marriage which has been so greatly misrepresented in the accounts of the time. As soon as he got introduced to Madame de Beauharnais, he spent almost every evening at her house, which was frequented by the most agreeable company in Paris. When the majority of the party retired, there usually remained M. de Montesquiou, the father of the Grand Chamberlain; the Duke de Nivernois, so celebrated for the graces of his wit; and a few others. They used to look round to see that the doors were all shut, and they would then say, “Let us sit down and chat about the old court; let us make a tour to Versailles.”

The poverty of the treasury and the scarcity of specie were so great, during the Republic, that, on the departure of General Buonaparte for the army of Italy, all his efforts, joined to those of the Directory, could only succeed in raising 2000 louis, which he carried with him in his carriage. With this sum he set out to conquer Italy, and to march towards the empire of the world. The following is a curious fact: an order of the day was published, signed Berthier, directing the General-in-chief, on his arrival at the head-quarters at Nice, to distribute to the different generals, to enable them to enter on the campaign, the sum of four louis in specie. 104For a considerable time no such thing as specie had been seen. This order of the day displays the circumstances of the times more truly and faithfully than whole volumes written on the subject.

As soon as Napoleon joined the army, he proved himself to be a man born for command. From that moment he filled the theatre of the world;^[17] he occupied all Europe; he was a meteor blazing in the firmament; he concentrated all attention, riveted all thoughts, and formed the subject of all conversations. From that time every Gazette, every publication, every monument, became the record of his deeds. His name was inscribed in every page and in every line, and echoed from every mouth.

On his appearance in the command, a total revolution was observed in his manners, conduct, and language. Decrès has often told me that he was at Toulon when he first heard of Napoleon’s appointment to the command of the army of Italy. He had known him well in Paris, and thought himself on terms of perfect familiarity with him. “Thus,” said he, “when we learned that the new General was about to pass through the city, I immediately proposed to all my comrades to introduce them to 105him, priding myself on my intimacy with him. I hastened to him, full of eagerness and joy; the door of the apartment was thrown open, and I was on the point of rushing towards him with my wonted familiarity, but his attitude, his look, the tone of his voice, suddenly deterred me. There was nothing offensive either in his appearance or manner; but the impression he produced was sufficient to prevent me from ever again attempting to encroach upon the distance that separated us.”

Napoleon’s generalship was, moreover, characterized by the skill, energy, and purity of his military administration; his constant hatred of peculation of any kind, and his total disregard of his own private interest. “When I returned from the campaign of Italy,” said he, “I had not 300,000 francs in my possession. I might easily have brought back 10 or 12 millions; that sum might have been mine. I never made out any accounts, nor was I ever asked for any. I expected on my return to receive some great national reward. It was publicly reported that Chambord was to be given to me, and I should have been very glad to have had it: but the idea was set aside by the Directory. I had, however, transmitted to France at least 50,000,000 for the service of the State. This I imagine, was the first instance in modern history of an army contributing to maintain the country to which it belonged, instead of being a burthen on it.”

When Napoleon was in treaty with the Duke de Modena, Salicetti, the Government Commissary with the army, who had hitherto been on indifferent terms with him, entered his cabinet.—“The Commander d’Este,” said he, “the Duke’s brother, is here with four millions in gold, contained in four chests. He comes in the name of his brother to beg of you to accept them, and I advise you to do so. I am a countryman of yours, and I know your family affairs. The Directory and the Legislative Body will never acknowledge your services. This money belongs to you; take it without scruple and without publicity. A proportionate diminution will be made in the Duke’s contribution, and he will be very glad to have gained a protector.”—“I thank you,” coolly answered 106Napoleon: “I shall not for that sum place myself in the power of the Duke de Modena:—I wish to continue free.”

A Commissary-in-chief of the same army used often to relate that he had witnessed an offer of seven millions in gold made in a like manner to Napoleon by the Government of Venice, to save it from destruction, which offer was refused.—The Emperor smiled at the transports of admiration evinced by this financier, to whom the refusal of his General appeared super-human—an action much more difficult and noble than the gaining of victories. The Emperor dwelt with a certain degree of complacency on these anecdotes of his disinterestedness. He however observed that he had been in the wrong, and that such a course of conduct was the most improvident he could have pursued, whether his intention had been to make himself the head of a party, and to acquire influence, or to remain in the station of a private individual; for, on his return, he found himself almost destitute: and he might have continued in a career of absolute poverty, while his inferior generals and commissaries were amassing large fortunes. “But,” added he, “if my commissary had seen me accept the bribe, who can tell to what lengths he might have gone? My refusal was at least a check upon him.

“When I was placed at the head of affairs, as Consul, it was only by setting an example of disinterestedness, and employing the utmost vigilance, that I could succeed in changing the conduct of the Administration, and putting a stop to the dreadful spectacle of Directorial peculations. It cost me an immense deal of trouble to overcome the inclinations of the first persons in the State, whose conduct, under me, at length became strict and irreproachable. I was obliged to keep them constantly in fear. How often did I not repeat, in my councils, that if my own brother were found to be in fault, I should not hesitate to dismiss him!”

No man in the world ever had more wealth at his disposal, and appropriated less to himself.—Napoleon, according to his own account, possessed as much as four hundred millions of specie in the cellars of the Tuileries. 107His extraordinary domain amounted to more than seven hundred millions. He has said that he distributed upwards of five hundred millions in endowments to the army. And, what is very extraordinary, he who circulated such heaps of wealth, never possessed any private property of his own! He had collected, in the Museum, treasures which it was impossible to estimate, and yet he never had a picture or a curiosity of his own.

On his return from Italy, and on the eve of his departure for Egypt, he became possessed of Malmaison, and there he deposited nearly all his property. He purchased it in the name of his wife, who was older than himself, and consequently, in case of his surviving her, he must have forfeited all claim to it. The fact is, as he himself has said, that he never had a taste or a desire for riches.

“If I now possess any thing,”^[18] continued he, “it is 108owing to measures which have been adopted since my departure: but even in that case it depended on a hair’s-breadth chance whether there should be any thing in the world I might call my own or not. But every one has his relative ideas. I have a taste for founding, and not for possessing. My riches consisted in glory and celebrity: the Simplon and the Louvre were, in the eyes of the people and of foreigners, more my property than private domains could have been. I purchased diamonds for the crown, I repaired and adorned the Imperial palaces; and I could not help thinking sometimes that the expenses lavished by Josephine on her green-houses and her gallery were a real injury to my Jardin des Plantes and my Musée de Paris.”

On taking the command of the army of Italy, Napoleon, notwithstanding his extreme youth, immediately impressed the troops with a spirit of subordination, confidence, and the most absolute devotedness. The army was subdued by his genius, rather than seduced by his popularity: he was in general very severe and reserved. During the whole course of his life he has uniformly disdained to court the favour of the multitude by unworthy means; perhaps he has even carried this feeling to an extent which may have been injurious to him. A singular custom was established in the army of Italy, in consequence of the youth of the commander, or from some other cause.—After each battle, the eldest soldiers used to hold a council, and confer a new rank on their young General, who, when he made his appearance in the camp, was received by the veterans, and saluted with his new title. They made him a Corporal at Lodi, and a Serjeant at Castiglione; and hence the surname of “Petit Caporal,” which was for a long time applied to Napoleon by the soldiers. How subtle is the chain which unites the most trivial circumstances to the most important events! Perhaps this very nick-name contributed to his miraculous success on his return in 1091815.—While he was haranguing the first battalion he met, which he found it necessary to parley with, a voice from the ranks exclaimed, “Vive notre petit Caporal!Caporal! we will never fight against him!”

The administration of the Directory, and that of the General-in-chief of the army of Italy, seemed two distinct Governments. The Directory in France put the emigrants to death: the army of Italy never inflicted capital punishment on any one of them. The Directory, on learning that Wurmser was besieged in Mantua, went so far as to write to Napoleon, to remind him that he was an emigrant; but Napoleon, on making him prisoner, eagerly sought to render an affecting homage of respect to his old age. The Directory adopted the most insulting forms in communicating with the Pope: the General of the army of Italy addressed him by the words “Most Holy Father,” and wrote to him with respect. The Directory endeavoured to overthrow the authority of the Pope: Napoleon preserved it. The Directory banished and proscribed Priests: Napoleon commanded his soldiers, wherever they might fall in with them, to remember that they were Frenchmen and their brothers. The Directory would have exterminated every vestige of aristocracy; Napoleon wrote to the democracy of Genoa, blaming their violence; and did not hesitate to declare that, if the Genoese attached any value to the preservation of his esteem, they must learn to respect the statue of Doria, and the institutions to which they were indebted for their glory.

THE EMPEROR DETERMINES TO WRITE HIS MEMOIRS.

7th—9th. We continued our course, and nothing occurred to interrupt the uniformity which surrounded us. Our days were all alike; the correctness of my journal alone informed me of the day of the week or of the month. Fortunately my time was employed, and therefore the day usually slipped on with a certain degree of facility. The materials which I collected in the 110afternoon conversation employed me so as to leave no idle time until next day.

Meanwhile the Emperor observed that I was very much occupied, and he even suspected the subject on which I was engaged. He determined to ascertain the fact, and obtained sight of a few pages of my journal: he was not displeased with it. Having alluded several times to the subject, he observed that such a work would be interesting rather than useful. The military events, for example, thus detailed in the ordinary course of conversation, would be meagre, incomplete, and devoid of end or object: they would be mere anecdotes, frequently of the most puerile kind, instead of grand operations and results. I eagerly seized the favourable opportunity: I entirely concurred in his opinion, and ventured to suggest the idea of his dictating to me the campaigns of Italy. “It would,” I observed, “be a benefit to the country—a true monument of national glory. Our time is unemployed, our hours are tedious; occupation will help to divert us, and some moments may not be devoid of pleasure.” This idea became the subject of various conversations.

At length the Emperor came to a determination, and on Saturday, the 9th of September, he called me into his cabin, and dictated to me, for the first time, some details respecting the siege of Toulon.

TRADE-WIND.—THE LINE.

10th—13th. On approaching the Line, we met with what are called the trade winds, that is to say, winds blowing constantly from the east. Science explains this phenomenon in a way sufficiently satisfactory. When a vessel sailing from Europe first encounters these winds, they blow from the north-east; in proportion as the ship approaches the Line, the winds become more easterly. Calms are generally to be apprehended under the Line. When the Line is crossed, the winds gradually change to the south, until they blow in the direction of the south-east. At length, after passing the tropics, the trade-winds are lost, and variable winds are met with, as in our European regions. A ship sailing from 111Europe to St. Helena is always driven in a westerly direction by these constant easterly winds. It would be very difficult to gain that island by a direct course; and, indeed, this is never attempted. The ship stands away to the variable winds in the southern latitude, and then shapes her course towards the Cape of Good Hope, so as to fall in with the trade-winds from the south-east, which bring her, with the wind astern, to St. Helena.

Two different courses are taken to gain the variable winds of the southern latitudes; the one is to cross the Line about the 20th or 24th degree of longitude, reckoning from the meridian of London: those who prefer this course affirm that it is less exposed to the equatorial calms, and that, though it frequently has the disadvantage of carrying the vessel within sight of Brazil, yet it enables her to make that part of her voyage in a short time. Admiral Cockburn, who was inclined to regard this course as a prejudice and a routine, determined in favour of the second method, which consisted in steering more to the east; and, following particular examples with which he was acquainted, he endeavoured to cross the Line about the 2nd or 3rd degrees of longitude. He doubted not that, standing towards the variable winds, he should pass sufficiently near St. Helena to shorten his passage considerably, even if he should not succeed in reaching the island by tacking without leaving the trade-winds.

The winds, to our great astonishment, veered to the west, (a circumstance which the Admiral informed us was more common than we supposed) and this tended to favour his opinion. He abandoned the bad sailers of his squadron, in proportion as they lagged behind: and he determined on gaining the place of his destination with all possible speed.

A STORM.—EXAMINATION OF CERTAIN LIBELS UPON THE EMPEROR.—GENERAL REFLECTIONS.

14th-18th. After a few slight gales and several calms, we had on the 16th a considerable fall of rain, to the great joy of the crew. The heat was very moderate; it may, indeed, be said that, with the exception of the 112storm at Madeira, we had uniformly enjoyed mild weather. But water was very scarce on board the ship; and, for the sake of economy, the crew took advantage of the opportunity of collecting the rain water, of which each sailor laid by a little store for his own use. The rain fell heavily just as the Emperor had got upon deck to take his afternoon walk. But this did not disappoint him of his usual exercise; he merely called for his famous grey great coat, which the English regarded with deep interest. The Grand Marshal and I attended the Emperor in his walk. The rain descended heavily for upwards of an hour; when the Emperor left the deck, I had great difficulty in stripping off my wet clothes; almost every thing I wore was soaked through.

For several succeeding days the weather continued very rainy; this somewhat impeded my labours, for the damp penetrated into our wretched little cabin; and on the other hand, it was not very agreeable to walk on deck. This was the first time during our passage that we had had any thing like a continuance of wet weather; and it quite disconcerted us. I filled up the intervals, between my hours of occupation, in conversing with the officers of the ship. I was not on intimate terms with any of them; but I kept up a daily intercourse of civility and politeness to them all. They loved to talk with us on French affairs, and their ignorance of all that concerned France and the French people was almost incredible. We excited mutual astonishment in each other: they surprised us by their degenerate political principles, and we astonished them by our new ideas and manners, of which they had previously formed no conception. They certainly knew infinitely less of France than of China.

One of the principal officers of the ship, in a familiar conversation, happened to say—“I suppose you would be very much alarmed if we were to land you on the coast of France?”—“Why so?” I enquired.—“Because,” replied he, “the King would perhaps make you pay dearly for having left your country to follow another Sovereign; and also because you wear a cockade which he has prohibited.”—“And is this language becoming an Englishman?” observed I. “You must be degenerate 113indeed! You are, it is true, far removed from the period of your revolution, to which you so justly apply the epithet glorious. But we, who are nearer to ours, by which we have gained so much, may tell you that every word you say is heresy. In the first place, our punishment depends not on the King’s pleasure; we are subject only to the law. Now, there exists no law against us; and if any law were to be violated for the purpose of applying to our case, it would be your duty to protect us. Your general has pledged himself to do so by the capitulation of Paris; and it would be an eternal disgrace to the English Ministry were they to permit the sacrifice of lives which their public faith had solemnly guaranteed.

“In the next place, we are not following another sovereign. That the Emperor Napoleon was our sovereign is an undeniable fact; but he has abdicated, and his reign is at an end. You are confounding private actions with party measures; love and devotedness, with political opinions. Finally, with regard to our colours, which seem to have dazzled you so much, they are but a remnant of our old costume. We wear them to-day, only because we wore them yesterday. One cannot with indifference lay aside things to which one is attached; that can only be done from constraint or necessity. Why did you not deprive us of our colours when you deprived us of our arms?—the one act would have been as reasonable as the other. We are here only as private men; we do not preach sedition. We cannot deny that these colours are dear to us: we are attached to them because they have seen us victorious over all our enemies; because we have paraded them in triumph through every capital in Europe; and because we wore them while we were the first nation in the world.”

On another occasion, one of the officers, after glancing at the extraordinary vicissitude of recent events, said—“Who knows whether we may not yet be destined to repair the misfortunes which we have occasioned to you? What would be your astonishment if Wellington should one day conduct Napoleon back to Paris?”—“I 114should be astonished indeed,” I replied: “but I should certainly decline the honour of being one of the party: at such a price, I would not hesitate to abandon Napoleon himself! But I may rest easy on that score; for I can swear Napoleon will never put me to such a trial. It is from him I imbibe these sentiments: it was he who cured me of the contrary doctrine, which I call the error of my youth.”

The English were very fond of asking us questions concerning the Emperor, whose character and disposition, as they afterwards avowed, had been represented to them in the falsest colours. It was not their fault, they observed, if they formed an erroneous estimate of his character: they knew him only through the works published in England, which were all greatly exaggerated, and much to his prejudice: they had several of these publications on board the ship.—One day I happened to cast my eyes on one of a most malignant character: on another occasion, when I was about to look at a book which one of the officers was reading, he suddenly closed it, observing it was so violent against the Emperor that he could not prevail on himself to let me see it. Another time, the Admiral questioned me respecting certain imputations contained in different works in his library, some of which he said enjoyed a degree of credit, while all had produced a great sensation, in England. This circumstance suggested to me the idea of successively examining all the works of this kind that were on board the ship, in order to note down my opinion of them in my journal—conceiving that so favourable an opportunity might never again occur of obtaining, if I chose, information on those points which it might be worth while to enquire into.

Before I commence my review of these works, I must beg to offer a few general remarks: they will suffice to answer by anticipation many of the numberless accusations that will fall in my way. Calumny and falsehood are the arms of the civil or political, the foreign or domestic enemy. They are the resource of the vanquished and the feeble, of those who are governed by 115hatred or fear.—They are the food of the drawing-room, and the garbage of the public place: they rage with the greater fury in proportion as their object is exalted: there is nothing which they will not venture to promulgate. The more absurd, ridiculous, and incredible calumnies and falsehoods may be, the more eagerly are they received and repeated from mouth to mouth. Triumph and success are but fresh causes of irritation: a moral storm will invariably gather; and, bursting in the moment of adversity, it will precipitate and complete the fall, and become the immense lever of public opinion.

No man was ever so much assailed and abused as Napoleon. No individual was ever the subject of so many pamphlets, libels, atrocious and absurd stories and false assertions. Nor could it be otherwise. Napoleon, risen from the common rank of life to supreme distinction; advancing at the head of a revolution which he himself had civilized; plunged by these two circumstances into a deadly contest with the rest of Europe—a contest in which he was subdued only because he wished to terminate it too speedily—Napoleon uniting in himself the genius, the force, the destiny of his own power, the conqueror of his neighbours, and, in some measure, a universal Monarch—a Marius in the eyes of the aristocrats of Europe, a Sylla for the demagogues, a Cæsar for the republicans—could not but raise against himself a hurricane of passions both at home and abroad.

Despair, policy, and fury, in every country, painted him as an object of detestation and alarm. Thus, all that has been said against him can excite no astonishment: it is only surprising that more calumny has not been uttered, and that it has not produced a much greater effect. When in the enjoyment of his power, he never would permit any one to reply to the attacks that were made upon him. “The pains bestowed on such answers,” said he, “would only have given additional weight to the accusations they were intended to refute. It would have been said that all that was written in my defence was ordered and paid for. The ill-managed praise of those by whom I was surrounded had already, in some instances, been more prejudicial to me 116than all the abuse of which I was the object. Facts were the most convincing answers. A fine monument, another good law, or a new triumph, were sufficient to defeat thousands of such falsehoods. Declamation passes away, but deeds remain!”

This is unquestionably true with regard to posterity. The great men of former times are handed down to us free from the ephemeral accusations of their contemporaries. But it is not thus during the lifetime of the individual; and, in 1814, Napoleon was convinced by cruel experience that even deeds may vanish before the fury of declamation. At the moment of his fall, he was absolutely overwhelmed by a torrent of abuse. But it was reserved for him, whose life had been so fertile in prodigies, to surmount this adverse stroke of fate, and almost immediately to arise resplendent from amidst his own ruins. His miraculous return is certainly unparalleled both in its execution and its results. The transports which it called forth penetrated into neighbouring countries, where prayers for his success were offered up either publicly or in secret; and he who, in 1814, was defeated and pursued as the scourge of human nature, suddenly re-appeared in 1815 as the hope of his fellow-creatures.

Calumny and falsehood in this instance lost their prey by having overshot their mark. The good sense of mankind in a great measure rendered justice to Napoleon, and the abuse that had been heaped upon him would not be believed now. “Poison lost its effect on Mithridates,” said the Emperor, as he was the other day glancing over some new libels upon himself, “and, since 1814, calumny cannot injure me.”

In the universal clamour which was directed against him when in the enjoyment of his power, England bore the most conspicuous part.

In England two great machines were maintained in full activity; the one conducted by the emigrants, for whom nothing was too bad; and the other under the control of the English ministers, who had established a system of defamation, and who had regularly organized its action and effects. They maintained in their pay 117pamphleteers and libelists in every corner of Europe; their tasks were marked out to them: and their plans of attack were regularly laid and combined.

The English ministry multiplied the employment of these potent engines in England more than elsewhere. The English, who were more free and enlightened than other nations, stood the more in need of excitement. From this system the English ministers derived the two-fold advantage of rousing public opinion against the common enemy, and withdrawing attention from their own conduct by directing popular clamour and indignation to the character and conduct of others: by this means their own character and conduct were screened from that investigation and recrimination which they might not have found very agreeable. Thus the assassination of Paul at St. Petersburgh, and of our envoys in Persia; the seizure of Napper-Tandy in the free city of Hamburgh; the capture, in time of peace, of two rich Spanish frigates; the acquisition of the whole of India; the retaining of Malta and the Cape of Good Hope, against the faith of treaties: the Machiavelian rupture of the treaty of Amiens; the unjust seizure of our ships previously to a new declaration of war: the Danish fleet seized with such cold and ironical perfidy, &c. &c.; all these aggressions were overlooked in the general agitation which had been artfully stirred up against a foreign power.

In order to take a just view of the accusations which have been heaped upon Napoleon, by the numerous publications written against him, it is necessary to make allowance for passions and circumstances; to reject with contempt all that is apocryphal, anonymous, and purely declamatory; and to adhere solely to the facts and proofs which would doubtless have been produced by those who, after the overthrow of their enemy, became possessed of the authentic documents, the archives of the public departments and courts of law, in short, of all the sources of truth which are usually to be found in society. But nothing has been published; nothing has been brought forward; and, therefore, how much of this monstrous scaffolding falls to the ground. And to be 118still more rigidly equitable, if we wish to judge Napoleon by the example of his peers, or great men in analogous circumstances; that is to say, by comparing him with the founders of dynasties, or those who have ascended thrones by dint of popular commotions, it may then confidently be said that he is unequalled, and that he shines purely from amidst all that is opposed to him. It would be a loss of time to cite the numberless examples furnished by ancient and modern history: they are accessible to every one. It is only necessary to refer to the two countries which are here under consideration.

Did Napoleon, like Hugues Capet, fight against his sovereign? Did he cause him to perish in captivity?

Did Napoleon act like the princes of the present house of Brunswick, who, in 1715 and 1745, crowded the scaffold with victims—victims to whom the present English ministers, through their inconsequential policy and the principles they now profess, leave no other title than that of faithful subjects dying for their lawful sovereign?

The course by which Napoleon advanced to supreme power is perfectly simple and natural; it is single in history; the very circumstances of his elevation render it unparalleled. “I did not usurp the crown,” said he one day to the Council of State, “I took it up out of the mire; the people placed it on my head: let their acts be respected!”

And by thus taking up the crown, Napoleon restored France to her rank in European society, terminated her horrors, and revived her character. He freed us of all the evils of our fatal crisis, and reserved to us all the advantages arising out of it. “I ascended the throne unsullied by any of the crimes of my situation,” said he, on one occasion. “How few founders of dynasties can say as much!”

Never, during any period of our history, were favours distributed with so much impartiality; never was merit so indiscriminately sought out and rewarded; public money so usefully employed; the arts and sciences better encouraged, or the glory and lustre of the country raised to so high a pitch. “It is my wish,” said he one day 119to the Council of State, “that the title of Frenchman should be the best and most desirable on earth; that a Frenchman travelling through any part of Europe may think and find himself at home.”

If liberty seemed occasionally to suffer encroachments, if authority seemed sometimes to overstep its limits, circumstances rendered those measures necessary and inevitable. Our present misfortunes have, though too late, made us sensible of this truth; we now render justice, though also too late, to the courage, judgment, and foresight which then dictated those steps. It is certain that in this respect the political fall of Napoleon has considerably increased his influence. Who can now doubt that his glory and the lustre of his character have been infinitely augmented by his misfortunes?

If the works which have fallen in my way should present any circumstances connected with these general considerations, they will be the object of my particular attention. I do not intend to enter upon a political controversy; I shall not address myself to party men, whose opinions are founded on their interests and passions; I speak only to the cool friend of truth, or to the unprejudiced writer, who in future times may impartially seek for materials: to them alone I address myself; in their eyes my testimony will be superior to anonymous evidence, and will rank with that which bears a credible character.

The first work that I looked into was the Anti-Gallican, of which I shall speak hereafter.

EMPLOYMENT OF OUR TIME.

19th-22nd. We continued our course with the same wind, the same sky, and the same temperature. Our voyage was monotonous, but pleasant; our days were long, but employment helped them to glide away. The Emperor now began regularly to dictate to me his Campaigns of Italy. I had already written several chapters. For the first few days, the Emperor viewed this occupation with indifference; but the regularity and promptitude with which I presented to him my daily task, together with the progress we made, soon excited his interest, 120and at length the pleasure he derived from this dictation rendered it absolutely necessary to him. He was sure to send for me about eleven o’clock every morning, and he seemed himself to await the hour with impatience. I always read to him what he had dictated on the preceding day, and he then made corrections and dictated farther. In this way the time passed rapidly till four o’clock arrived, when he summoned his valet-de-chambre. He then proceeded to the state-cabin, and passed the time until dinner in playing at piquet or chess.

The Emperor dictates very rapidly, almost as fast as he speaks in ordinary conversation. I was therefore obliged to invent a kind of hieroglyphic writing: and I, in my turn, dictated to my son. I was happy enough to be able to collect almost literally every sentence that fell from him. I had now not a moment to spare; at dinner time somebody was sure to come and tell me that all the company were seated at table. Fortunately my seat was near the door, which always stood open. I had some time since changed my place at the request of Captain Ross, the commander of the vessel, who, as he did not speak French, took the opportunity of occasionally asking me the meaning of words: I therefore took my seat between him and the Grand Marshal. Captain Ross was a man of agreeable manners, and was exceedingly kind and attentive to us. I had learnt, according to the English custom, to invite him to take a glass of wine, drinking mine to the health of his wife, and he would then drink to the health of mine. This was our daily practice.

After dinner, the Emperor never failed to allude to his morning dictation, as if pleased with the occupation and amusement it had afforded him. On these occasions, as well as whenever I happened to meet him in the course of the day, he would address me in a jocular tone with: “Ah! sage Las Cases!—Illustrious memorialist!—the Sully of St. Helena;” and other similar expressions. Then he would frequently add: “My dear Las Cases, these Memoirs will be as celebrated as any that have preceded them. You will survive as long as any previous memoir-writer. It will be impossible to dwell upon the 121great events of our time, or to write about me, without referring to you.” Then resuming his pleasantry, he would add: “After all, it will be said, he must have known Napoleon well; he was his Councillor of State, his Chamberlain, his faithful companion. We cannot help believing him, for he was an honest man and incapable of misrepresentation.”

ACCIDENTAL PHENOMENON.—PASSAGE OF THE LINE.—CHRISTENING.

23rd–25th. The West wind still continued, to our great astonishment; it was a sort of phenomenon in these regions, and had hitherto been very much in our favour. But, with regard to phenomena, chance produced one of a much more extraordinary kind on the 23rd, when we crossed the Line in 0° latitude 0° longitude, and 0° declination. This is a circumstance which chance alone may perhaps renew only once in a century, since it is necessary to arrive precisely at the first meridian about noon, in order to pass the Line at that same hour, and to arrive there at the same time with the sun.

This was a day of great merriment and disorder among the crew: it was the ceremony which our sailors call the Christening, and which the English call the great Shaving day. The sailors dress themselves up in the most grotesque way; one is disguised as Neptune, and all persons on board the ship who have not previously crossed the Line, are formally presented to him; an immense razor is passed over their chins, with a lather made of pitch; buckets of water are thrown over them, and the loud bursts of laughter which accompany their retreat complete their initiation into the grand mystery. No one is spared; and the officers are generally more roughly used than the lowest of the sailors. The Admiral, who had previously amused himself by endeavouring to alarm us with the anticipation of this awful ceremony, now very courteously exempted us from the inconvenience and ridicule attending it. We were, with every mark of attention and respect, presented to the rude god, who paid to each of us a compliment after his own fashion: and thus our trial ended.

122The Emperor was scrupulously respected during the whole of this Saturnalian festivity, when respect is usually shewn to no one. On being informed of the decorum which had been observed with respect to him, he ordered a hundred Napoleons to be distributed to the grotesque Neptune and his crew, which the Admiral opposed, perhaps from motives of prudence as well as politeness.

EXAMINATION OF THE ANTI-GALLICAN.—SIR ROBERT WILSON’S WRITINGS.—PLAGUE AT JAFFA.—ANECDOTES OF THE FRENCH ARMY IN EGYPT.—FEELINGS OF THE ARMY IN THE EGYPTIAN CAMPAIGN.—BERTHIER.—JESTS OF THE SOLDIERY.—DROMEDARIES.—DEATH OF KLEBER.—THE YOUNG ARAB.—SINGULAR COINCIDENCES RESPECTING PHILIPEAUX AND NAPOLEON.—CIRCUMSTANCES ON WHICH THE FATE OF INDIVIDUALS DEPENDS.—CAFFARELLI’S ATTACHMENT TO NAPOLEON.—REPUTATION OF THE FRENCH ARMY IN THE EAST.—NAPOLEON QUITTING EGYPT TO ASSUME THE GOVERNMENT OF FRANCE.—THE ENGLISH EXPEDITION.—KLEBER AND DESAIX.

26th—30th. The weather still continued favourable. Having passed the Line, we momentarily expected to fall in with an east or south-east wind. The continuance of the west wind was extraordinary, and it was impossible it could last much longer. The resolution which the Admiral had adopted of bearing considerably to the east rendered our situation very favourable, and we had every reason to hope for a short passage.

One afternoon, the sailors caught an enormous shark. The Emperor enquired the cause of the great noise and confusion which he suddenly heard overhead; being informed of what had occurred, he expressed a wish to have a sight of the sea-monster. He accordingly went up to the poop, and incautiously approached too near the animal, which by a sudden movement knocked down four or five of the sailors, and had well nigh broken the Emperor’s legs. He went below with his left stocking covered with blood: we thought he was severely hurt, but it proved to be only the blood of the shark.

123My labours advanced with the greatest regularity. The Anti-Gallican, which was the first work I undertook to read, was a volume of five hundred pages, comprising all that had been written in England at the time when that country was menaced with the French invasion. It was the object of the English government to nationalize opposition to that attempt, and to rouse the whole nation against her dangerous enemy. The book contained a collection of public speeches, exhortations, patriotic appeals of zealous citizens, satirical songs, sarcastic productions, and highly-coloured newspaper articles, all pouring a torrent of odium and ridicule upon the French and their First Consul, whose courage, genius, and power excited the greatest alarm. This was all perfectly natural and allowable. Productions of this sort are like a shower of arrows thrown by combatants before they come to a close action: some hit, and some are carried away by the wind. Such writings will never afford satisfactory evidence to a man of judgment, and they scarcely merit contradiction.

Pamphleteers are little regarded, because their character is the antidote of their poison: it is not so with the historian. The latter, however, degrades himself to a level with the pamphlet-writer when he departs from the calm dignity and impartiality required for his office, to indulge in declamation and to steep his pen in gall.

With these feelings I arose from the perusal of the different productions of Sir Robert Wilson, which I read after the Anti-Gallican. This writer did us the greater injury, because his talents, his courage, and his numerous and brilliant services, gave him importance in the eyes of his countrymen. A circumstance which I am about to state caused the writings of Sir R. Wilson to be particularly known and spoken of on board the ship.

Sir Robert had a son among the young midshipmen on board the Northumberland, and my son, whose similarity of age occasioned him to be much in the society of these youths, could easily observe the change which took place in their opinions with respect to us. They were at first very much prejudiced against us. When the Emperor came on board, they regarded him as an 124ogre ready to devour them. But on a better acquaintance with us, truth soon exercised over them the same influence which it produced on the rest of the crew. This was, however, at the expense of young Wilson, who was scouted by his companions, by way of expiation, as they said, for the stories which his father had circulated.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

At this part of the manuscript a great number of pages are struck out; the reason was explained, on the margin, as follows:

“I had collected numerous offensive statements from the writings of Sir Robert Wilson, to which I had perhaps replied with too much bitterness: a recent circumstance has induced me to suppress this portion of my journal.

“Sir Robert Wilson has lately acted a conspicuous part in a cause which does honour to the hearts of all who were concerned in it: I allude to the saving of Lavalette. Being asked, before a French tribunal, whether he had not formerly published works respecting our affairs? he replied in the affirmative, and added that he had stated in them what he then believed to be true. These words are more to the purpose than any thing I could say; and I therefore hasten to cancel what I have already written; happy in thus having an opportunity to render justice to Sir Robert Wilson, on whose sincerity and good intentions I had, in my indignation, cast reflections.”^[19]

125I therefore set aside the works of Sir Robert Wilson, and the various accusations contained in them; I also suppress the numerous refutations I had collected. I shall merely stop to consider one circumstance which has been repeated in a hundred different works; the report of which has been circulated through Europe, and has obtained credit even in France. I allude to the poisoning of the men infected with the plague at Jaffa.

Certainly nothing can more clearly prove how easily calumny may effect its object. If the voice of slander be bold and powerful, and can command numerous echoes, no matter how far probability, reason, common sense, and truth be violated—the wished-for end is sure to be attained.

A general, a hero, a great man, hitherto respected by fortune, as well as by mankind, at that moment riveting the attention of three quarters of the globe, commanding admiration even from his enemies, was suddenly accused of a crime declared to be unheard-of and unparalleled; of an act pronounced to be inhuman, atrocious, and cruel; and, what is above all extraordinary, he 126could have no possible object in committing that crime. The most absurd details, the most improbable circumstances, the most ridiculous episodes were invented, to give a colouring to this first falsehood. The story was circulated through Europe; malevolence seized it, and exaggerated its enormity; it was published in every newspaper; recorded in every book; and thenceforward was looked upon as an established fact:—indignation was at its height, and clamour universal. It would have been vain to reason, or to attempt to stem the torrent, or to shew that no proofs of the fact had been adduced, and that the story contradicted itself. It would have been vain to bring forward opposite and incontrovertible evidence—the evidence of those very medical men who were said to have administered, or to have refused to administer, the poison. It would have been vain to expose the unreasonableness of accusing of inhumanity the man who, but a short time before, had immortalized the hospitals of Jaffa by an act of the sublimest heroism; risking his own safety by solemnly touching the troops infected with the plague, to deceive and soothe the imaginations of the sick men. In vain might it have been urged that the idea of such a crime could not be affixed on him who, when consulted by the medical officers as to the expediency of burning or merely washing the clothes worn by the invalids, and being reminded of the enormous loss attendant on the former measure, replied;—“Gentlemen, I came here to fix the attention and to recal the interests of Europe to the centre of the ancient world, and not with the view of amassing wealth.” In vain would it have been shewn that there could be no object, no motive whatever, for this supposed crime. Had the French General any reason to suspect a design for corrupting his invalids and converting them into reinforcements against himself? Did he hope that this barbarous act would completely rid him of the infection? He might have effected that object equally well by leaving his invalids to be overtaken by the enemy’s troops, which would moreover have been the means of spreading the contagion among the latter. It would have been vain to shew that an 127unfeeling and selfish chief might have freed himself from all embarrassment by merely leaving the unfortunate men behind him: they would have been massacred, it is true; but no one would ever have thought of addressing a reproach to him.

These and all other arguments would have been vain and useless, so powerful and infallible are the effects of falsehood and declamation when the passions of mankind are interested in their propagation. The imaginary crime was repeated by every mouth, was engraven on every heart, and to the common mass of mankind it will perhaps for ever continue a positive and incontrovertible fact.

A circumstance which will not a little surprise those who have yet to learn how little credit is due to public report, and which will also serve to shew the errors that may creep into history, is that Marshal Bertrand, who was himself with the army in Egypt, (though certainly in a rank which did not enable him to come into immediate contact with the General-in-chief) firmly believed, up to the period of his residence at St. Helena, the story of poison having been administered to sixty invalids. The report was circulated and believed even in our army; therefore, what answer could be given to those who triumphantly asserted “It is a fact, I assure you, I have it from officers who served in the French army at the time?” Nevertheless, the whole story is false. I have collected the following facts from the highest source, from the mouth of Napoleon himself.

1st. That the invalids in question, who were infected with the plague, amounted, according to the report made to the General-in-chief, only to seven in number.

2nd. That it was not the General-in-chief, but a professional man, who, at the moment of the crisis, proposed the administering of opium.

3rd. That opium was not administered to a single individual.

4th. That the retreat having been effected slowly, a rear-guard was left behind in Jaffa for three days.

5th. That, on the departure of the rear-guard, the invalids were all dead, except one or two, who must have fallen into the hands of the English.

128N.B. Since my return to Paris, having had opportunities of conversing with those whose situation and profession naturally rendered them the first actors in the scene—those whose testimony must be considered as official and authentic, I have had the curiosity to enquire into the most minute details, and the following is the result of my enquiries.

“The invalids under the care of the Surgeon-in-chief, that is to say, the wounded, were all, without exception, removed, with the help of the horses belonging to the staff, not excepting even those of the General-in-chief, who proceeded for a considerable distance on foot, like the rest of the army. These, therefore, are quite out of the question.

“With regard to the rest of the invalids, about twenty in number, who were under the care of the Physician-in-chief, and who were in an absolutely desperate condition, totally unfit to be removed, while the enemy was advancing, it is very true that Napoleon asked the Physician-in-chief whether it would not be an act of humanity to administer opium to them. It is also true that the Physician replied, his business was to cure and not to kill;—an answer which, as it seems to have reference to an order rather than to a subject of discussion, has, perhaps, furnished a basis on which slander and falsehood might invent and propagate the fabrication which has since been circulated on this subject.

“Finally, the details which I have been able to collect afford me the following incontestible results:—

“1st. That no order was given for the administering of opium to the sick.

“2nd. That there was not at the period in question, in the medicine-chest of the army, a single grain of opium for the use of the sick.

“3rd. That even had the order been given, and had there been a supply of opium, temporary and local circumstances, which it would be tedious to enumerate here, would have rendered its execution impossible.

“The following circumstances have probably helped to occasion, and may, perhaps, in some degree excuse, the mistake of those who have obstinately maintained the 129truth of the contrary facts. Some of our wounded men, who had been put on board ship, fell into the hands of the English. We had been short of medicines of all kinds in the camp, and we had supplied the deficiency by compositions formed from indigenous trees and plants. The draughts and other medicines had a horrible taste and appearance. The prisoners, either for the purpose of exciting pity, or from having heard of the opium story, which the nature of the medicines might incline them to believe, told the English that they had miraculously escaped death, having had poison administered to them by their medical officers.” So much for the invalids under the care of the Surgeon-in-chief.

Now for the others.—“The army unfortunately had, as Apothecary-in-chief, a wretch who had been allowed the use of five camels to convey from Cairo the quantity of medicines necessary for the expedition. This man was base enough to supply himself on his own account, instead of medicines, with sugar, coffee, wine, and other provisions, which he afterwards sold at an enormous profit. On the discovery of the fraud, the indignation of the General-in-chief was without bounds, and the offender was condemned to be shot; but all the medical officers, who were so distinguished for their courage, and whose attentive care had rendered them so dear to the army, implored his pardon, alleging that the honour of the whole body would be compromised by his punishment; and thus the culprit escaped. Some time after, when the English took possession of Cairo, this man joined them, and made common cause with them; but, having attempted to renew some of his old offences, he was condemned to be hanged, and again escaped by slandering the General-in-chief Buonaparte, of whom he invented a multitude of horrible stories, and, by representing himself as the identical person who had, by the General’s orders, administered opium to the soldiers infected with the plague. His pardon was the condition and the reward of his calumnies. This was doubtless the first source whence the story was derived, by those who were not induced to propagate it from malevolent motives.

130“Time has, however, fully exposed this absurd calumny, as well as many others which have been applied in the same direction, and that with so great a rapidity, that on revising my manuscript, I have been surprised at the importance I have attached to the refutation of a charge which no one would now dare to maintain. Still, I thought it best to preserve what I had written, as a testimony of the impression of the moment; and if I have now added some farther details, it is because they happened to lie within my reach, and I thought it important to record them as historical facts.”

Sir Robert Wilson has, in his work, boasted, with seeming complacency, of having been the first to make known and to propagate these odious charges in Europe. His countryman, Sir Sydney Smith, may perhaps dispute this honour with him, particularly as he may, in a great measure at least, justly lay claim to the merit of their invention. To him, and to the system of corruption he encouraged, Europe is indebted for all the false reports with which she has been inundated, to the great detriment of our brave army of Egypt.

It is well known that Sir Sydney Smith did every thing in his power to corrupt our army. The false intelligence from Europe—the slander of the General-in-chief—the powerful bribes held out to the officers and soldiers,—were all approved by him: the documents are published, his proclamations are known. At one time they created sufficient alarm in the French General to induce him to seek to put a stop to them; which he did by forbidding all communication with the English, and stating in the Order of the day that their Commodore had gone mad. This assertion was believed in the French army; and it enraged Sir Sydney Smith so much that he sent Napoleon a challenge. The General replied that he had business of too great importance on his hands to think of troubling himself about such a trifle: had he received a challenge from the great Marlborough, then indeed he might have thought it worth while to consider of it: but if the English seaman really felt inclined to amuse himself at a tilting-match, he would send him one of the bullies 131in his army, and neutralize a few yards of the sea-coast, where the mad Commodore might come ashore, and enjoy his heart’s content of it.

As I am on the subject of Egypt, I will here note down all the information I collected in my detached conversations, and which may possibly not be found in the Campaign of Egypt, dictated by Napoleon to the Grand Marshal.

The campaign of Italy exhibits all the most brilliant and decisive results to which military genius and conception ever gave birth. Diplomatic views, administrative talents, legislative measures, are there uniformly blended in harmony with the prodigies of war. But the most striking and the finishing touch in the picture is the sudden and irresistible ascendancy which the young General acquired:—the anarchy of equality—the jealousy of republican principles—every thing vanished before him: there was not a power, even to the ridiculous sovereignty of the Directory, which was not immediately suspended. The Directory required no accounts from the General-in-chief of the army of Italy; it was left to himself to send them: no plan, no system was prescribed to him; but accounts of victories and conclusions of armistices, of the destruction of old states, and the creation of new ones, were constantly received from him.

In the expedition of Egypt may be retraced all that is admired in the campaign of Italy. The reflecting observer will even perceive that, in the Egyptian expedition, the points of resemblance are of a more important nature, from the difficulties of every kind which gave character to the campaign, and required greater genius and resources on the part of its conductor. In Egypt, a new order of things appeared: climate, country, inhabitants, religion, manners, and mode of fighting, all were different.^[20]

132The Memoirs of the Campaign of Egypt will determine points which, at the time, formed only the subjects of conjecture and discussion to a large portion of society.

1st. The expedition of Egypt was undertaken at the earnest and mutual desire of the Directory and the General-in-chief.

2nd. The taking of Malta was not the consequence of a private understanding, but of the wisdom of the General-in-chief. “It was in Mantua that I took Malta,” said the Emperor one day; “it was the generous treatment observed towards Wurmser that secured to me the submission of the Grand Master and his Knights.”

3rd. The conquest of Egypt was planned with as much judgment as it was executed with skill. If Saint Jean d’Acre had surrendered to the French army, a great revolution would have taken place in the East; the General-in-chief would have established an empire there, and the destinies of France would have taken a different turn.

4th. On its return from the campaign of Syria, the French army had scarcely sustained any loss; it remained in the most formidable and prosperous condition.

5th. The departure of the General-in-chief for France was the result of a grand and magnanimous plan. How ridiculous is the imbecility of those who consider that departure as an escape or a desertion!

6th. Kleber fell a victim to Mussulman fanaticism. There is not the slightest foundation for the absurd calumny which would have attributed this catastrophe to the policy of his predecessor, or to the intrigues of his successor.

7th, and lastly. It is pretty well proved that Egypt would have remained for ever a French province if any other but Menou had been appointed for her defence; nothing but the gross errors of that general could have lost us the possession of Egypt.

The Emperor said, that no army in the world was 133less fit for the Egyptian expedition than that which he led there—the army of Italy. It would be difficult to describe the disgust, the discontent, the melancholy, the despair of that army, on its first arrival in Egypt. The Emperor himself saw two dragoons run out of the ranks and throw themselves into the Nile. Bertrand had seen the most distinguished generals, such as Lannes and Murat, in momentary fits of rage, throw their laced hats on the sand and trample on them in the presence of the soldiers. The Emperor explained these feelingsfeelings surprisingly well. “This army,” said he, “had fulfilled its career. All the individuals belonging to it were satiated with wealth, rank, pleasure, and consideration; they were not fit for the Deserts and the fatigues of Egypt: and,” continued he, “had that army been placed in other hands than mine, it is difficult to say what excesses might not have been committed.”

More than one conspiracy was formed to carry away the flags to Alexandria, and other things of the same sort. The influence, the character, and the glory of the General, could alone restrain the troops. One day, Napoleon, losing his temper in his turn, rushed among a group of discontented generals, and addressing himself, to the tallest, “You have held mutinous language,” said he, with vehemence, “take care that I do not fulfil my duty; it is not your being six foot high that should save you from being shot in a couple of hours.”

With regard, however, to their conduct before the enemy, the Emperor said that this army never ceased to be the army of Italy; that it still preserved the same admirable character. The most difficult party to manage was that which the Emperor used to call “the faction of the sentimentalists,” whom it was impossible to keep under any restraint; their minds were diseased; they spent the night in gazing on the moon for the reflected image of the idols they had left in Europe. At the head of this party was Berthier, the weak and spiritless Berthier, who, when the General-in-chief was preparing to sail from Toulon, posted night and day from Paris to tell him that he was unwell, and could not accompany him, though he was the head of the staff. 134The General-in-chief took not the smallest notice of what he said, and Berthier, finding himself no longer at the feet of the fair one who had despatched him with the excuse, set sail along with him! On his arrivalarrival in Egypt, he became a prey to ennui, and was unable to subdue his tender recollections;—he solicited and obtained permission to return to France. He took leave of Napoleon, and bade him a formal adieu; but shortly returned with his eyes full of tears, saying that, after all, he would not dishonour himself, and that he could not separate his destiny from that of his General.

Berthier’s love was mingled with a kind of worship. Adjoining the tent, destined for his own use, he always had another prepared, and furnished with the magnificence of the most elegant boudoir; this was consecrated to the portrait of his mistress, before which he would sometimes even go so far as to burn incense. This tent was pitched even in the deserts of Syria. Napoleon said, with a smile, that his temple had oftener than once been profaned by a worship less pure, through the clandestine introduction of foreign divinities.

Berthier never relinquished his passion, which sometimes carried him to the very verge of idiotcy. In his first account of the battle of Marengo, young Visconti, his aide-de-camp, who was but a captain at most, was mentioned five or six times in remembrance of his mother. “One would have thought,” said Napoleon, “that the youth had gained the battle.” Surely the General-in-chief must have been ready to throw the paper in the writer’s face!

The Emperor calculated that he had given Berthier forty millions during his life; but he supposed that from this weakness of his mind, his want of regularity, and his ridiculous passion, he had squandered away a great part of it.

The discontent of the troops in Egypt happily vented itself in sarcastic jokes: this is the humour which always bears a Frenchman through difficulties. They bore a great resentment against General Caffarelli, whom they believed to have been one of the promoters of the expedition. Caffarelli had a wooden leg, having lost one of 135his limbs on the banks of the Rhine; and whenever the soldiers saw him hobbling-past, they would say, loud enough for him to hear,—“That fellow does not care what happens; he is certain, at all events, to have one foot in France.”

The men of science who accompanied the expedition also came in for their share of the jests. Asses were very numerous in Egypt; almost all the soldiers possessed one or two, and they used always to call them their demi-savans.

The General-in-chief, on his departure from France, had issued a proclamation, in which he informed the troops that he was about to take them to a country where he would make them all rich; where they should each have seven acres of land at their disposal. The soldiers, when they found themselves in the midst of the Desert, surrounded by the boundless ocean of sand, began to question the generosity of their General: they thought he had observed singular moderation in having promised only seven acres. “The rogue,” said they, “might with safety give us as much as he pleases; we should not abuse his good nature.”

While the army was passing through Syria, there was not a soldier but was heard to repeat these lines from Zaire:—

Les Français sont lassés de chercher désormais

Des climats que pour eux le destin n’a point faits,

Ils n’abandonnent point leur fertile patrie,

Pour languir aux déserts de l’aride Arabie.

On one occasion, the General-in-chief, having a few moments’ leisure to look about the country, took advantage of the ebb-tide, and crossed on foot to the opposite coast of the Red Sea. Night surprised him on his return, and he lost his way in the midst of the rising tide. He was in the greatest danger, and very narrowly escaped perishing precisely in the same manner as Pharaoh. “This,” said Napoleon, “would have furnished all the preachers of Christianity with a splendid text against me.” On reaching the Arabian coast of the Red Sea, he received a deputation of the Cenobites of Mount Sinai, who came to implore his protection, and 136to request him to inscribe his name on the ancient register of their charters. Napoleon inscribed his name in the same list with those of Ali, Saladin, Ibrahim, and others! In allusion to this circumstance, or something of a similar kind, the Emperor observed that he had in the course of one year received letters from Rome and Mecca; the Pope addressing him as his dearest son, and the Sherif styling him the Protector of the holy Kaaba.

This singular coincidence, however, is scarcely surprising, with reference to him who has led armies both through the burning sands of the Tropic, and over the frozen Steppes of the North; who, when he narrowly escaped being swallowed up in the waves of the Red Sea, or might have perished in the flames of Moscow, was threatening the Indies from those two extreme points.

The General-in-chief shared the fatigues of the soldiers. The privations endured by every individual in the army were sometimes so great that they were compelled to dispute with each other for the smallest enjoyments, without the least distinction of rank. To such extremities were they reduced that, in the Desert, the soldiers would hardly relinquish their places to allow the General to dip his hands in a muddy stream. On one occasion, as they were passing by the ruins of Pelusium, and were almost suffocated with the heat, some one resigned to him a fragment of a door, beneath which he contrived to shade his head for a few minutes: “And this,” said Napoleon, “was no trifling concession.” It was on this very spot, while removing some stones at his feet, that chance rendered him the possessor of a superb antique, well known in the learned world.^[21]

137In proceeding to Asia, the French army had to cross the Desert which separates that continent from Africa. Kleber, who commanded the advanced guard, mistook his road, and lost his way in the Desert. Napoleon, who was following at the distance of half a day’s march, attended by a slender escort, found himself at night-fall in the midst of the Turkish camp: he was closely pursued, and escaped only because, it being night, the Turks suspected that an ambush was intended. The next source of uneasiness was the doubtful fate of Kleber and his detachment, and the greater part of the night was passed in the most cruel anxiety. At length they obtained information respecting them from some Arabs of the Desert, and the General-in-chief hastened, on his dromedary, in quest of his troops. He found them overwhelmed with despair, and ready to perish from thirst and fatigue; some of the young soldiers had, in a moment of frenzy, even broken their muskets. The sight of their General seemed to give them new life, by reviving their hopes. Napoleon informed them that a supply of provisions and water was coming up behind him. “But,” said he, to the troops, “if relief had been longer delayed, would that have excused your murmuring and loss of courage? No, soldiers; learn to die with honour.”

Napoleon travelled the greater part of the way through the Desert on a dromedary. The physical hardihood of this animal renders it unnecessary to pay the least attention to his sustenance; he scarcely eats or drinks; but his moral sensibility is extreme, harsh treatment provokes his resentment, and renders him furious. The Emperor observed that the roughness of his trot created nausea, like the motion of a ship. The animal will travel twenty leagues a day. The Emperor formed some dromedary regiments, and the use he made of them in the army soon proved the destruction of the Arabs. The rider squats himself on the back of the animal, through whose nostrils a ring is passed, which serves to guide him: he is very obedient, and on a certain signal, made by the voice of the rider, the animal kneels down to allow him to alight. The dromedary will carry very 138heavy burdens, and he is never unloaded during the whole of the journey. On his arrival at evening stations, his load is propped up, and the animal lies down and goes to sleep: at day-break he rises,—his burden is on his back, and he is ready to continue his journey. The dromedary is only a beast of burden, and not at all fit for draught. In Syria, however, they succeeded in yoking them to field-pieces, thus rendering them essentially serviceable.

Napoleon became very popular among the Egyptians, who gave him the name of Sultan Kebir (Father of Fire). He inspired particular respect: wherever he appeared the people rose in his presence; and this deference was paid to him alone. The uniform consideration with which he treated the Sheiks, and the adroitness by which he gained their confidence, rendered him truly the sovereign of Egypt, and more than once saved his life. But for their disclosures, he would have fallen a victim to fanaticism, like Kleber, who, on the contrary, rendered himself odious to the Sheiks, and perished in consequence of subjecting one of them to the punishment of the bastinado. Bertrand was one of the judges who condemned the assassin, and, on his telling us this fact one day at dinner, the Emperor observed:—“If the slanderers, who accuse me of having caused the death of Kleber, were acquainted with the fact you have mentioned, they would not hesitate to call you the assassin, or the accomplice, and would take it for granted that your title of Grand Marshal, and your residence at Saint Helena, are the reward and the punishment of the crime.”

Napoleon willingly conversed with the people of the country, and always displayed sentiments of justice which struck them with wonder. On his way back to Syria, an Arab tribe came to meet him, for the double purpose of shewing him respect and of selling their services as guides. “The chief of the tribe was unwell, and his place was filled by his son, a youth of the age and size of your boy here,” said the Emperor to me: “he was mounted on his dromedary, riding close beside me, and chatting to me with great familiarity. ’Sultan 139Kebir, said he, ‘I could give you good advice, now that you are returning to Cairo,’ ‘Well, speak, my friend, and if your advice is good, I will follow it.’—‘I’ll tell you what I would do, if I were in your place. As soon as I got to Cairo, I would order the richest slave-merchant into the market, and I would choose twenty of the prettiest women for myself; I would next send for the richest jewellers, and would make them give me up a good share of their stock; I would then do the same with all the other merchants; for what is the use of reigning, or being powerful, if not to acquire riches?’—‘But, my friend, suppose it were more noble to preserve them for others?’ This sentiment seemed to make him reflect a little, without convincing him. The young man was evidently very promising, for an Arab: he was lively and courageous, and led his troop with dignity and order. He is, perhaps, destined, one day or other, to carry his advice into execution for his own benefit in the market-place of Cairo.”

On another occasion, some Arabs who were on friendly terms with the army, penetrated into a village on the frontier, and an unfortunate Fellah (peasant) was killed. The Sultan Kebir flew into a great passion; and, vowing that he would have vengeance, gave orders that the tribe should be pursued into the Desert to extinction. This order was given in the presence of the principal Sheiks, one of whom could not refrain from laughing at his anger and his determination. “Sultan Kebir,” said he, “you are playing a bad game just now: do not quarrel with these people; they can do you ten times more harm than you can do them. And besides, what is it all about. Because they have killed a miserable peasant? Was he your cousin (a proverbial expression among them)?” “He was more than my cousin,” replied Napoleon; “all those whom I govern are my children: power is given to me only that I may ensure their safety.” On hearing these words all the Sheiks bowed their heads, and said, “O! that is very fine;—you have spoken like the Prophet.”

The decision of the Grand Mosque of Cairo in favour of the French army was a masterpiece of skill on the 140part of the General-in-chief, who induced the synod of the chief Sheiks to declare, by a public act, that the Mussulmans should obey, and pay tribute to, the French general. It is the first and only example of the sort, since the establishment of the Koran, which forbids submission to Infidels. The details of this transaction are invaluable: they will be found in the Campaigns of Egypt.

Saint-Jean d’Acre, doubtless, presented a singular spectacle, when two European armies met with hostile intentions in a little town of Asia, with the mutual purpose of securing the possession of a portion of Africa; but it is still more extraordinary that the persons who directed the efforts of each party were both of the same nation, of the same age, of the same rank, of the same corps, and of the same school.

Philippeaux, to whose talents the English and Turks owed the preservation of Saint Jean d’Acre, had been the companion of Napoleon at the military school of Paris: they had been there examined together, previous to their being sent to their respective corps. “His figure resembled yours,” said the Emperor to me, after having dictated his eulogium in the Memoirs, and mentioned all the mischief he had done him. “Sire,” I answered, “there were many other points of affinity between us; we had been intimate and inseparable companions at the Military School. When he passed through London with Sir Sydney Smith, who, by his assistance, had been enabled to escape from the Temple, he sought for me in every direction. I called at his lodgings only half an hour after his departure; had it not been for this accident, I should probably have accompanied him. I was at the time without occupation; the prospect of adventure might have tempted me; and how strangely might the course of my destinies have been turned in a new direction!”

“I am well aware,” said Napoleon, “of the influence which chance usurps over our political determinations; and it is the knowledge of that circumstance which has always kept me free from prejudice, and rendered me very indulgent with regard to the party adopted by 141individuals in our political convulsions. To be a good Frenchman, or to wish to become one, was all that I looked for in any one.”—The Emperor then went on to compare the confusion of our troubles to battles in the night-time, where each man attacks his neighbour, and friends are often confounded with foes; but when daylight returns, and order is restored, every one forgives the injury which he has sustained through mistake. “Even for myself,” said he, “how could I undertake to say that there might not have existed circumstances sufficiently powerful, notwithstanding my natural sentiments, to induce me to emigrate? The vicinity of the frontier, for instance, a friendly attachment, or the influence of a chief. In revolutions, we can only speak with certainty to what we have done: it is silly to affirm that we could not have acted otherwise.” The Emperor then related a singular example of the influence of chance over the destinies of men. Serrurier and the younger Hedouville, while travelling together on foot to emigrate into Spain, were met by a military patrol. Hedouville, being the younger and more active of the two, cleared the frontier, thought himself very lucky, and went to spend a life of mere vegetation in Spain. Serrurier, on the contrary, being obliged to return into the interior, bewailed his unhappy fate, and became a marshal: such is the uncertainty of human foresight and calculations!

At Saint-Jean d’Acre, the General-in-chief lost Caffarelli, of whom he was extremely fond. Caffarelli entertained a sort of reverential respect for the General-in-chief. The influence of this sentiment was so great that, though he was delirious for several days previous to his death, when Napoleon went to see him, the announcement of his name seemed to recal him to life: he became more collected, his spirits revived, and he conversed coherently; but he relapsed into his former state immediately after Napoleon’s departure. This singular phenomenon was renewed every time the General-in-chief paid him a visit.

Napoleon received, during the siege of Saint-Jean d’Acre, an affecting proof of heroic devotedness. While he was in the trenches, a shell fell at his feet; two 142grenadiers who observed it immediately rushed towards him, placed him between them, and raising their arms above his head, completely covered every part of his body. Happily the shell respected the whole group; nobody was injured.

One of these brave grenadiers afterwards became General Dumesnil, who lost a leg in the campaign of Moscow, and commanded the fortress of Vincennes at the time of the invasion in 1814. The capital had been for some weeks occupied by the Allies, and Dumesnil still held out. Nothing was then talked of in Paris but his obstinate defence, and his humorous reply when summoned by the Russians to surrender;—“Give me back my leg, and I will give up my fortress.”

The French soldiers acquired extraordinary reputation in Egypt, and not without cause; they had dispersed and dismayed the celebrated Mamelucks, the most formidable militia of the East. After the retreat from Syria, a Turkish army landed at Aboukir: Murat-Bey, the most powerful and brave of the Mamelucks, left Upper Egypt, whither he had fled for safety, and reached the Turkish camp by a circuitous route. On the landing of the Turks, the French detachments had fallen back in order to concentrate their forces. The Pacha who commanded the Turks was delighted at this movement, which he mistook for the effect of fear; and, on perceiving Murat-Bey, he exultingly exclaimed:—“So! these are the terrible French whom you could not face; see, the moment I make my appearance, how they fly before me.“ The indignant Murat-Bey furiously replied:—“Pacha, render thanks to the Prophet that it has pleased these Frenchmen to retire; if they should return, you will disappear before them like dust before the wind.”

His words were prophetical:—some days after, the French poured down upon the Turkish army and put it to flight. Murat-Bey, who had interviews with several of our generals, was extremely surprised at their diminutive stature and pitiful condition. The Oriental nations attach high importance to the bodily stature, and they were unable to conceive how so much genius could exist within such small dimensions. The appearance of 143Kleber alone came up to their ideas; he was an uncommonly fine-looking man, but his manners were rude. The discrimination of the Egyptians induced them to think that he was not a Frenchman; in fact, though a native of Alsace, he had spent the early part of his life in the Prussian army, and might very well have passed for a German. Some one said that Kleber had been a Janissary in his youth; the Emperor burst into a fit of laughter, and said somebody had been imposing on him.

The Grand-Marshal told the Emperor that at the battle of Aboukir he was for the first time placed in his army, and near his person. He was then so little accustomed to the boldness of his manœuvres, that he scarcely understood any of the orders he heard him give. “Particularly, Sire,” added he, “when I heard you call out to an officer, ‘Hercule, my dear fellow, take twenty-five men and charge that rabble:’ I really thought I had lost my senses; your Majesty pointed to a detachment of a thousand Turkish horse.”

After all, the losses sustained by the army in Egypt were far from being so considerable as might have been expected in a country to which the troops were unaccustomed; particularly when the insalubrity of the climate, the remoteness of the resources of the country, the ravages of the plague, and the numerous actions which have immortalized that army, are taken into account. The French force, at its landing in Egypt, amounted to 30,000 men; it was augmented by the wrecks of the battle of Aboukir, and probably also by some partial arrivals from France; and yet the total loss sustained by the army, from the commencement of the campaign to two months after the departure of the General-in-chief for Europe, (during the space of seven or eight-and-twenty months,) amounted only to 8,915, as is proved by the official report of the Muster-master-general.^[22]

144The life of a man must indeed be replete with prodigies, when one of his acts, which is without parallel in history scarcely arrests our attention. When Cæsar passed the Rubicon, he possessed an army, and was advancing in his own defence. When Alexander, urged by the ardour of youth and the fire of genius, landed in Asia, to make war on the great King, he, Alexander, was the son of a king, a king himself, and courted the chances of ambition and glory at the head of the forces of his kingdom. But that a private individual, whose name three years before was unknown to the world, who at that moment had nothing to aid him but the reputation of a few victories, his name, and the consciousness of his genius, should have dared to conceive the project of taking into his own hands the destinies of thirty millions of men, of protecting them from external defeats and internal dissensions;—that, roused by the recital of the troubles which were described to him, and by the idea of the disasters which he foresaw, he should have exclaimed, “France will be lost through these fine talkers, these babblers: now is the time to save her!”—that he should have abandoned his army, and crossed the seas, at the risk of his liberty and reputation, have reached the French soil and flown to the capital; that he should there have seized the helm, and stopped short a nation intoxicated with every excess; that he should have suddenly brought her back to the true course of reason and justice;—that he should from that moment have prepared for her a career of power and glory till then unknown;—and that all this should have been accomplished without the shedding of a single tear or a drop of blood;—such an undertaking may be regarded as one of the most gigantic and sublime that ever was heard of; it will fill calm and dispassionate posterity with astonishment and admiration; though at the time it was branded by some with the name of a desperate flight, and an infamous desertion. The army, however, which Napoleon left behind him, continued to occupy Egypt for the space of two years longer. It was the opinion of the Emperor that it ought never to have been forced to surrender; 145and the Grand Marshal, who accompanied the army to the last moment, concurred in that opinion.

After the departure of the General-in-chief, Kleber, who succeeded him, deceived and misled by intrigues, treated for the evacuation of Egypt; but when the enemy’s refusal compelled him to seek for new glory, and to form a more just estimate of his own force, he totally altered his opinions, and declared himself favourable to the occupation of Egypt; and this had even become the general sentiment of the army. He now thought only of maintaining himself in the country; he dismissed those who had influenced him in forming his first design, and collected around him only those who favoured the contrary measure. Had he lived, Egypt would have been secure; to his death her loss must be attributed. The command of the army was afterwards divided between Menou and Regnier. It then became a mere field of intrigue: the energy and courage of the French troops continued unabated; but they were no longer employed and directed as they had been by Kleber. Menou was totally inefficient; the English advanced to attack him with twenty thousand men; his force was much more considerable, and the general spirit of the two armies was not to be compared. By an inconceivable infatuation, Menou hastily dispersed his troops, as soon as he learned that the English were about to appear, the latter advanced in a mass, and were attacked only in detail. “How blind is fortune,” said the Emperor; “by the adoption of contrary measures, the English would infallibly have been destroyed; and how many new chances might not that event have brought about!”

Their landing was admirable, said the Grand Marshal: in less than five or six minutes five thousand five hundred men appeared in order of battle: it was a truly theatrical movement; and it was thrice repeated. Their landing was opposed by only twelve hundred men, who did them considerable damage. Shortly after, this mass, amounting to between thirteen and fourteen thousand, was intrepidly attacked by General Lanusse. The General had only three thousand troops; but fired with 146ambition, and not doubting that his force was adequate to fulfil the object he had in view, he would not wait for reinforcements; at first he overthrew every thing in his way, and, after causing immense slaughter to the enemy, he was at length defeated. Had his force been two or three thousand stronger, he would have attained his object.

The English were greatly astonished when they had an opportunity of judging for themselves of our real situation in Egypt; and they considered themselves extremely fortunate in the turn which affairs had taken.

General Hutchinson, who reaped the glory of the conquest, said, on his return to Europe, that had the English known the real state of things, they would certainly never have attempted to land; but in England it was believed that there were not six thousand French troops in Egypt. This mistake arose out of the intercepted letters, as well as the intelligence that was collected in Egypt. “So natural is it to Frenchmen,” said Napoleon, “to exaggerate, murmur, and misrepresent, whenever they are dissatisfied. These reports, however, were created merely by ill-humour or diseased imaginations: it was said that there was a famine in Egypt; that the French had all been destroyed, at every new battle; that the plague had swept away the whole army; that there was not a man left,” &c.

Through the repetition of these reports, Pitt was at length persuaded of their reality; and how could it be otherwise? The First Consul saw the despatches from his successor addressed to the Directory; and also letters from various persons in the French army. Who can explain the contradictions they contained? Who will henceforth trust to individual authority for the support of his opinion? Kleber, the General-in-chief, informed the Directory, that he had only six thousand men, while in the same packet the accounts of the inspector of reviews exhibited upwards of twenty thousand. Kleber declared that he was without money, and the treasury accounts display vast sums. The General-in-chief alleged that the artillery was merely an intrenched park, destitute of ammunition; while the estimates of that 147department made mention of stores for several campaigns. “Thus, if Kleber, by virtue of the treaty he commenced, had evacuated Egypt,” said the Emperor, “I should undoubtedly have brought him to trial on his return to France. All these contradictory documents had been submitted to the examination and opinion of the Council of State.”

From the letters of Kleber, the General-in-chief, an idea may be formed of the tone of those written by persons of inferior rank, and by the common soldiers. Such, however, were the communications daily intercepted by the English; which they printed and which guided them in their operations—a circumstance that must have cost them dear. The Emperor observed that in all his campaigns he had seen the same effect produced by intercepted letters, which sometimes had proved of great advantage to him.

Among the letters which at this period fell into his hands, he found odious attacks upon himself, which he felt the more sensibly because several of them were written by persons whom he had loaded with benefits, in whom he had reposed full confidence, and whom he believed to be strongly attached to him. One of these individuals, whose fortune he had made, and in whom he trusted with the utmost sincerity, alleged that the General-in-chief had decamped, after robbing the treasury of two millions. Fortunately, in these same despatches the accounts of the Paymaster proved that the General had not even received the whole amount of the pay due to him. “On reading this statement,” said the Emperor, “I felt really disgusted at mankind. This was the first moral disappointment I had ever experienced; and if it has not been the only one, it has, perhaps, at least, been the most severe. Many individuals in the army thought me ruined, and they were already eagerly seeking to pay their court in the proper quarter at my expense.” The author of the assertion above alluded to subsequently endeavoured to restore himself to favour. The Emperor signified that he should have no objection to his being employed in a subordinate situation; but that he would never see him again. To every 148application he constantly replied that he did not know him: this was the only vengeance he took.