MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE, EXILE, AND CONVERSATIONS, OF THE EMPEROR NAPOLEON. (continued 3)
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93He next turned to Voltaire’s Œdipus, on which he bestowed high commendation. This piece, he said, contained the finest scene in the French Drama. As to its faults, the absurd passion of Philoctetes, for example, they must not, he said, be attributed to the poet, but to the manners of the age, and the great actresses of the day, to whose laws a dramatic writer is obliged to submit. This commendation of Voltaire rather surprised us: it was something novel and singular in the mouth of the Emperor.
At eleven o’clock, after the Emperor had retired to bed, he sent for me, and resumed his conversation on the ancient and modern drama; on which he made many curious remarks. In the first place, he expressed his surprise that the Romans should have had no tragedies; but then again he observed that tragedy, in dramatic representation, would have been ill calculated to rouse the feelings of the Romans, since they performed real tragedy in their circuses. “The combats of the gladiators,” said he, “the sight of men consigned to the fury of wild beasts, were far more terrible than all our dramatic horrors put together. These, in fact, were the only tragedies suited to the iron nerves of the Romans.”
However, it was observed that the Romans possessed some dramatic essays, produced by Seneca. By the by, it is a curious fact, that in Seneca’s Medea, the chorus distinctly predicts the discovery of America, which took place fourteen hundred years after that drama was written. In the passage here alluded to, it is said, “A new Tiphys, a son of the earth, will, in ages to come, discover remote regions towards the west, and Thule will no longer be the extremity of the universe.”[5]
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THE EMPEROR CONSIDERABLY BETTER.—INFERNAL MACHINE
STORY.—MADAME R—-- DE ST. J—-- D’A—-- —THE TWO EMPRESSES.—JOSEPHINE’S EXTRAVAGANCE.—CHARACTERISTIC ANECDOTES OF THE EMPEROR.
9th.—To-day the Emperor felt himself infinitely better. He was surrounded by all his suite, and he began to talk of the prodigies of his early career, which, he said, must have produced a great impression in the world. “So great an impression,” said an individual present, “that some were induced to regard them as supernatural.” On this subject, the following anecdote was related: At the time of the explosion of the infernal machine, a person, who had just heard the news, called at a house in a certain quarter of the capital, and, hastily entering the drawing-room, in which a party was assembled, he informed the company that Napoleon was no more; and after giving an account of the event that had just taken place, he concluded by saying: “He is fairly blown up.” “He blown up!” exclaimed an old Austrian officer, who had eagerly listened to all that was said, and who had been a witness to many of the dangers which the young General of the army of Italy had so miraculously escaped; “he blown up! Ah! you know nothing about him. I venture to say that he is, at this very moment, as well as any of us. I know him and all his tricks of old!”
The name of Madame R—-- de St. J—-- d’A—-- having been mentioned, and some one having remarked to the Emperor how much attachment she had evinced for him during his stay at the Isle of Elba. “How! she?” exclaimed the Emperor, with mingled surprise and satisfaction.—“Yes, Sire.”—“Poor lady!” said he, in a tone of deep regret; “and yet how ill I treated her! Well! this at least repays me for the ingratitude of those renegades, on whom I lavished so many favours....” Then, after a few moments’moments’ silence, he said, significantly, “It is very certain that one can never know people’s characters and sentiments until after great trials.“
At dinner, the Emperor was very good humoured and cheerful. He congratulated himself on having got 95through his late illness, without having recourse to medicine, without paying tribute to the Doctor. At this, he said, the latter had been very much vexed. He would have been content with ever so little, with the slightest acknowledgment; he only asked for compliance with the form, like a priest in confession. The Emperor laughed, and added, that, out of mere complaisance, he had made trial of a gargle, but that its strong acidity had disagreed with him. This led him to observe that mild medicines were best suited to his constitution. “Gentle remedies, whether physical or moral,” said he, “are the only ones that take effect on me.”
In the course of conversation, the Emperor spoke of the Empresses Josephine and Maria Louisa, of whom he related some very interesting details, and concluded with his usual observation, that the one was the model of the graces, with all their fascinations; and the other the emblem of innocence, with all its charms.
The Emperor mentioned that Malmaison had cost about three or four hundred thousand francs: that is to say, all that he was at that time possessed of. He then calculated the amount of the sums which the Empress Josephine must have received from him: and added that, with a little order and regularity, she might, probably, have left behind her fifty or sixty million francs. “Her extravagance,” said the Emperor, “vexed me beyond measure. Calculator as I am, I would, of course, rather have given away a million of francs than have seen a hundred thousand squandered away.” He informed us that, having one day unexpectedly broken in upon Josephine’s morning circle, he found a celebrated milliner, whom he had expressly forbidden to go near the Empress, as she was ruining her by extravagant demands. “My unlooked for entrance occasioned great dismay in the academic sitting. I gave some orders unperceived, and on the lady’s departure, she was seized and carried to Bicètre. A great outcry was raised among the higher circles in Paris; it was said that my conduct was disgraceful. It soon became the fashion to visit the milliner in her confinement, and there was daily a file of carriages at the gate of the prison. The police informed 96me of these facts. All the better, said I; but I hope she is not treated with severity; not confined in a dungeon?—‘No, Sire, she has a suite of apartments, and a drawing room.’ Oh, well! let her be. If this measure is pronounced to be tyrannical, so much the better; it will be a diapason stroke for a great many others. Very little will serve to shew that I can do more.” He also mentioned a celebrated man-milliner, who, he remarked, was the most insolent fellow he had ever met with in the whole course of his life. “I was one day,” said the Emperor, “speaking to him respecting a trousseau that he had furnished, when he had the presumption to call my conduct in question. He did what no man in France, except himself, would have ventured to do; he began, with great volubility, to prove to me that I did not grant a sufficient allowance to the Empress Josephine; and that it was impossible she could pay for her clothes out of such a sum. I soon put an end to his impertinent eloquence; I cut him short with a look, and left him transfixed.”
When the Emperor had retired to his chamber, he sent for me, and after he had gone to bed, he continued to converse very cheerfully, on various subjects. He said he found himself much better, and that he felt a pleasure in chatting. However, he was very much troubled with cough, and this had forced him to rise from table earlier than he otherwise would have done. “I unthinkingly took too much snuff,” said he, “my attention having been absorbed in the conversation of the moment. In such a case you should always take away my snuff-box: that is the way to serve those one loves.”
WAR ON HIGH ROADS.—DUMOURIEZ MORE DARING THAN NAPOLEON.—PRINCESS CHARLOTTE OF WALES AND THE PRINCE OF SAXE COBOURG.
10th.—For some days past, the Emperor has been reading works on war, fortifications, artillery, &c. He has examined Vauban, an account of Campaigns during the Revolution, Gassendi’s Dictionary, and Guibert’s Tactics; with all of which he is much pleased. These 97subjects have led him to speak of several Generals who have already been frequently noticed in the course of this Journal. “They could only carry on war on high roads,” said he, “and within range of cannon, when their field of battle should have extended over a whole country.”
During dinner, he spoke of the Campaign of Dumouriez in Champagne, which he had just been reading. He thought little of the Duke of Brunswick, who with a plan of offensive operations, had advanced only eighteen leagues in forty days. But, on the other hand, he very much blamed Dumouriez, whose position, he said, was far too hazardous. “For me, this is saying a great deal,” added he; “for I consider myself to have been the most venturous man in war that perhaps ever lived. Yet I should certainly have been afraid to keep the position that Dumouriez retained; so numerous were the dangers it presented. I could only explain his manœuvre, on the supposition that he could not venture to retire; he would probably have encountered greater risks in retreating than in staying where he was. Wellington was placed in the same situation at Waterloo.
“The French are the bravest troops in the world. They will fight in whatever position they may be attacked; but they cannot retreat before a victorious enemy. If they experience the least check, they lose all presence of mind and discipline; they slip through your fingers, as it were. Dumouriez, I suppose, calculated on this; or perhaps he might have been influenced by some secret negotiation of which we are ignorant.”
The newspapers, which we perused to-day, mentioned the marriage of Prince Leopold of Saxe Coburg to the Princess Charlotte of Wales.
“Prince Leopold,” said the Emperor, “once had a chance of becoming my aid-de-camp. He solicited the appointment, and I don’t know what prevented his obtaining it. However, it was lucky for him that his application proved unsuccessful: had it been otherwise, his present marriage would never have taken place. 98Who can pretend to say what is fortunate or unfortunate in the events of human life!...”
Princess Charlotte of Wales next became the subject of conversation. Some one observed that she was exceedingly popular in England, and that she had given many unequivocal proofs of energy of character. The English were of opinion that she would be another Elizabeth, and she herself seemed to cherish that idea. The person who made these remarks said that he happened to be in London in 1814, at the time when the young Princess, indignant at the ill treatment of her mother, slipped away from the Prince Regent’s, and stepping into the first hackney coach she met with in the street, drove to the residence of her mother, to whom she was fondly attached. On this occasion the natural severity of the English relaxed into indulgence; and all were inclined to pardon the breach of decorum, in consideration of the amiable sentiment that had occasioned it. The young Princess would not leave her mother, until the Duke of York, or another of her uncles, and, as it was said, the Lord Chancellor, prevailed on her to go back to her father’s, by assuring her that to persist in the course she had adopted would endanger her mother’s happiness, perhaps, even her life.
Princess Charlotte had already given a proof of decision of character, in refusing to marry the Prince of Orange. Her reason for rejecting this alliance was that it would have obliged her occasionally to reside out of England; and this truly national sentiment contributed to render her the more dear to the English people.
The English who are at St. Helena assure us that her union with the Prince of Saxe Coburg was perfectly in unison with her own wishes, and that she publicly declared she looked forward to happiness, because in her choice she had been guided purely by sentiment. She was said to be much attached to Prince Leopold.—“I readily believe it,” said the Emperor: “I recollect him very well; and when he appeared at the Tuileries, I thought him one of the handsomest young men I ever saw.” Within these few days, the English who are 99here have related an incident which they regard as a proof of high spirit and dignity of feeling on the part of their future Queen. Previously to her marriage, one of the Ministers waited upon her for the purpose of settling some domestic details; and, having submitted to her some propositions which she did not conceive to be sufficiently liberal,—“My Lord,” said she, “I am heiress to the throne of Great Britain; and my mind has risen to a level with the exalted station I am destined to fill. Therefore, I must be provided for accordingly. Do not imagine that, in marrying Prince Leopold, I ever can or will sink to the rank of Mistress Coburg. Entertain no such idea, I beg of you.”
The young Princess is the idol of the English people, who look forward to her reign as affording the prospect of future happiness.
The Emperor, again alluding to Prince Leopold, and the chance he had of becoming his aide-de-camp, said:—“A crowd of German Princes solicited the same favour. When I established the Confederation of the Rhine, the Sovereigns who were included in it took it for granted that I intended to revive in my person the etiquette and forms of the Holy Roman Empire; and all, even Kings themselves, were eager to join my retinue. One wished to be appointed my cup-bearer, another my grand butler, &c. At this period, the Princes of Germany literally invaded the Tuileries; they crowded the saloons, and modestly mingled with the officers of my household. It was the same with the Italians, Spaniards, and Portuguese; in short, all the most exalted personages in Europe were assembled at the Tuileries. The fact is,” added the Emperor, “that, during my reign, Paris was the queen of nations and the French the first nation in the world!...”
REMARKS ON SEVERAL IMPORTANT SUBJECTS.—NAPOLEON’S DEBUT IN DIPLOMACY.—CONCENTRATION OF THE NATIONS OF EUROPE.—CONQUEST OF SPAIN.—DANGER OF RUSSIA.—BERNADOTTE.
11th.—The Emperor did not leave his chamber to-day. I spent nearly the whole of the day with him; for I only left him to go to dinner.
100The conversations of the day were diffuse and interesting, for the Emperor was exceedingly chatty. He discussed numerous subjects, perfectly heterogeneous in their nature, though they were naturally introduced one by another. His conversation abounded with ideas and facts totally new to me. But the number and importance of the Emperor’s remarks rendered it impossible for me to seize them all. My eagerness to note down the past observation sometimes occasioned the present one to escape me; but, for this very reason, I can, with the greater confidence, vouch for the accuracy of what I have preserved.
Speaking of the elements of society, the Emperor said: “Democracy may be furious; but it has some heart, it may be moved. As to aristocracy, it is always cold and unforgiving.”
At another time, after some preliminary observations, he said;—“All human institutions present two opposite points of view; all have their advantages and disadvantages: for example, both republican and monarchical government may be defended and opposed. Doubtless, it is easy to prove in theory that both are equally good, and very good; but this is not quite so easy in application.” He remarked that the extreme boundary of the government of many was anarchy; and that the extreme boundary of the government of a single one was despotism; that a just medium between both was unquestionably the best, were it in the power of wisdom steadily to pursue such a course. He added, these truths had been repeated until they had become absolutely commonplace, without producing any good result; that on this subject many volumes had been written, and many would still be written without effect.
The Emperor at another moment said: “Despotism is not absolute; but merely relative. A man cannot with impunity absorb all power within himself. If a Sultan strikes off the heads of his subjects, according to the whim of the moment, he runs the risk of losing his own by the same sort of caprice. Excess will always incline either to one side or the other. What the sea gains by encroachment in one direction, it loses elsewhere. When 101I was in Egypt, a conqueror, an absolute ruler and master, dictating laws to the people by mere orders of the day, I could not have presumed to search the houses, and it would have been out of my power to prevent the inhabitants from speaking freely in their coffee-houses, where liberty and independence prevailed even in a greater degree than in Paris. The people yielded like slaves in all other places; but they resolved to enjoy full liberty in their coffee-houses, which were absolutely the citadels of freedom, the bazaars of public opinion. Here they loudly declaimed, and passed judgment, on the measures of the day: it would have been impossible to close their mouths. If I happened to enter these places, all bowed before me, it is true; but this was a mark of esteem to me personally. No such homage was shewn to any lieutenants.
“Be this as it may,” said he, alluding to another topic, “France, when subject to the opposing influences of many, was on the point of falling beneath the blows of combined Europe: but she placed the helm in the hands of one, and immediately the First Consul laid down the law to Europe. Such is the power of unity and concentration; these are facts which must be convincing to the meanest understandings.
“It was curious to observe that the old cabinets of Europe were unable to conceive the importance of this change, and that they continued to treat with unity and concentration, in the same manner as they had done with the multitude and dispersion. It is not less remarkable that the Emperor Paul, who was looked upon as a madman, was the first to appreciate this difference; while the English Ministers, reputed to be so skilful and experienced, were the very last. ‘I set aside the abstractions of your Revolution,’ Paul wrote to me, ‘I confine myself to a fact; that is sufficient for me: in my eyes you are a government, and I address myself to you, because we can understand each other, and I can treat with you.’
“With regard to the English Ministry, I was ever obliged to conquer and force to peace, and absolutely to detach England from the rest of Europe, before I could make them to listen to me; and even when they opened 102negotiations with me, they drawled on in the ruts of the old routine. They tried to divert my attention by delays, protocols, forms, ceremonies, precedents, and I know not what. But I felt myself so powerful that I could afford to laugh at all this!
“A new state of things required a new line of conduct; but the English Ministers seemed to have no idea of the age, or of the men and things belonging to it. My manner quite disconcerted them. I commenced in diplomacy, as I had already commenced in arms. These are my propositions, said I, to the English Ministry:—we are masters of Holland and Switzerland; but I am ready to resign both, in return for the restitutions that you make to us or our allies. We are also masters of Italy, of which I will surrender one portion and retain the other, for the purpose of guaranteeing the existence of all. These are my bases; build upon them as much as you please; I care not for that; but the object and result must remain as I have specified. I will not yield a hair’s breadth of my determination. My object is not to purchase concessions from you; but to enter into reasonable, honourable, and lasting engagements. This is the circle I have traced out. It appears to me that you have formed no notion of our respective situations or resources. I fear not your refusal, your efforts, or any difficulties you may throw in my way. I have a strong arm, and I only want a weight to lift.
“This unusual language,” continued the Emperor, “produced the desired effect. In the negotiations at Amiens, they had intended merely to divert us; but they now began to treat seriously. Not knowing at what point I was vulnerable, they offered to make me King of France. This was a good idea! King, by the grace of foreigners, when I was already Sovereign by the will of the people!...
“Such was the ascendency I had acquired that, even while the negotiations were pending, I caused the Italians to assign to me the Presidency of their Republic; and this circumstance, which, in the ordinary course of European diplomacy, would naturally have created so many obstacles, occasioned no interruption of the proceedings. 103Matters were brought to a conclusion; and I gained my point by plain dealing, better than if I had fallen into all the usual diplomatic subtleties. Many libellous pamphlets, and manifestoes of no better character, accused me of perfidy, and of breach of faith in my negotiations; but I never merited these charges, which, on the contrary, might always have been justly applied to the other cabinets of Europe.
“At Amiens, I sincerely thought that the fate of France and Europe, and my own destiny, were permanently fixed; I hoped that war was at an end. However, the English Cabinet again kindled the flame. England is alone responsible for all the miseries by which Europe has since been afflicted. For my part, I intended to have devoted myself wholly to the internal interests of France; and I am confident that I should have wrought miracles. I should have lost nothing in the scale of glory; and I should have gained much in the scale of happiness. I should then have achieved the moral conquest of Europe, which I was afterwards on the point of accomplishing by force of arms. Of how much glory was I thus deprived!
“My enemies always spoke of my love of war; but was I not constantly engaged in self-defence? After every victory I gained, did I not immediately make proposals for peace?
“The truth is that I never was master of my own actions. I never was entirely myself. I might have conceived many plans; but I never had it in my power to execute any. I held the helm with a vigorous hand; but the fury of the waves was greater than any force that I could exert in resisting them; and I prudently yielded, rather than incur the risk of sinking through stubborn opposition. I never was truly my own master; but was always controlled by circumstances. Thus, at the commencement of my rise, during the Consulate, my sincere friends and warm partisans frequently asked me, with the best intentions, and as a guide for their own conduct, what point I was driving at? and I always answered that I did not know. They were surprised, probably dissatisfied, and yet I spoke the truth. Subsequently, 104during the Empire, when there was less familiarity, many faces seemed to put the same question to me; and I might still have given the same reply. In fact, I was not master of my actions, because I was not fool enough to attempt to twist events into conformity with my system. On the contrary, I moulded my system according to the unforeseen succession of events. This often appeared like unsteadiness and inconsistency, and of these faults I was sometimes unjustly accused.”
After alluding to some other subjects, the Emperor said, “One of my great plans was the re-uniting, the concentration, of those same geographical nations which have been separated and parcelled out by revolution and policy. There are in Europe, dispersed, it is true, upwards of thirty millions of French, fifteen millions of Spaniards, fifteen millions of Italians, and thirty millions of Germans; and it was my intention to incorporate these people each into one nation. It would have been a noble thing to have advanced into posterity with such a train, and attended by the blessings of future ages. I felt myself worthy of this glory!
“After this summary simplification, it would have been possible to indulge the chimera of the beau ideal of civilization. In this state of things, there would have been some chance of establishing, in every country, a unity of codes, principles, opinions, sentiments, views, and interests. Then, perhaps, by the help of the universal diffusion of knowledge, one might have thought of attempting, in the great European family, the application of the American Congress, or the Amphictyons of Greece; and then what a perspective of power, greatness, happiness, and prosperity! What a grand, what a magnificent, spectacle!
“The concentration of the thirty or forty millions of Frenchmen was completed and perfected; and that of the fifteen millions of Spaniards was nearly accomplished; for nothing is more common than to convert accident into principle. Because I did not subdue the Spaniards, it will henceforth be argued that they were invincible. But the fact is that they were actually conquered, and at the very moment when they escaped me, the Cortes of Cadiz 105were secretly in treaty with me. They were not delivered either by their own resistance or the efforts of the English, but by the reverses which I sustained at distant points; and, above all, by the error I committed in removing with all my whole forces to the distance of a thousand leagues from them, and in having perished there; for nobody can deny that if, as soon as I entered that country, Austria had not declared war against me, but had left me four months longer quietly in Spain,[6] the business would have been finished there; the Spanish Government would have been consolidated; the public mind would have been tranquillized; the different parties would have rallied. Three or four years would have restored the Spaniards to profound peace and brilliant prosperity: they would have become a compact nation, and I should have well deserved their gratitude; for I should have saved them from the tyranny by which they are now oppressed, and the terrible agitations that await them.
“With regard to the fifteen millions of Italians, their concentration was already far advanced: it only wanted maturity. The people were daily becoming more firmly established in the unity of principles and legislation; and also in the unity of thought and feeling, that certain and infallible cement of human concentration. The union of Piedmont with France, and the junction of Parma, Tuscany and Rome, were, in my mind, but temporary measures, intended merely to guarantee and promote the national education of the Italians.[7] You may judge of 106the correctness of my views, and of the influence of common laws. The portions of Italy that had been united to France, though that union might have been regarded as the insult of conquest on our part, were, in spite of their 107Italian patriotism, the very parts that continued by far the most attached to us. Now that they are restored to themselves, they conceive that they have been invaded and disinherited; and so they certainly have been!...
“All the South of Europe, therefore, would soon have been rendered compact in point of locality, views, opinions, sentiments, and interests. In this state of things, what would have been the weight of all the nations of the north? What human efforts could have broken through so strong a barrier?
“The concentration of the Germans must have been effected more gradually; and therefore I had done no more than simplify their monstrous complication. Not that they were unprepared for concentralization; on the contrary, they were too well prepared for it, and they might have blindly risen in re-action against us, before they had comprehended our designs. How happens it that no German Prince has yet formed a just notion of the spirit of his nation, and turned it to good account? Certainly, if heaven had made me a Prince of Germany, amidst the many critical events of our times, I should, infallibly, have governed the thirty millions of Germans united; and, from what I know of them, I think I may venture to affirm that, if they had once elected and proclaimed me, they would not have forsaken me, and I should never have been at St. Helena.”
Then, after some melancholy details and comparisons, 108he thus resumed: “At all events, this concentration will be brought about, sooner or later, by the very force of events. The impulse is given; and I think that, since my fall and the destruction of my system, no grand equilibrium can possibly be established in Europe, except by the concentration and confederation of the principal nations. The sovereign who, in the first great conflict, shall sincerely embrace the cause of the people, will find himself at the head of all Europe, and may attempt whatever he pleases.
“It will perhaps be asked why I did not suffer these ideas to transpire? why I did not submit them to public discussion; since they would, doubtless, have become popular, and popularity would have been an immense re-inforcement to me? My answer is, that malevolence is ever more active than good intention; that, at the present day, the power of wit overrules good sense, and obscures at pleasure the most luminous points; and that, to have submitted these important subjects to public discussion would have been to consign them to the mercy of party-spirit, passion, intrigue, and gossiping, while the infallible result would have been discredit and opposition. I conceived, therefore, that secrecy was the most advisable course. I surrounded myself with that halo of mystery which pleases and interests the multitude; gives birth to speculations, which occupy the public mind; and, finally, affords opportunities for those sudden and brilliant disclosures, which exercise such important influence. It was this very principle that accelerated my unfortunate march to Moscow. Had I been more deliberate, I might have averted every evil; but I could not delay and afford time for comment. With my career already traced out, with my ideas formed for the future, it was necessary that my movement and my success should seem, as it were, supernatural.” The Emperor here adverted to the Russian expedition, repeating many of the observations which I have already recorded elsewhere. I now note down only what I conceive to be new.
“I will name another occasion,” said he, “on which accident was taken for principle. I failed in my expedition 109against the Russians; and they, therefore, consider themselves invincible. But can any thing be more erroneous? Ask men of sense and reflection among them! Ask Alexander himself, and let him recollect the opinions he entertained at the time! Was I defeated by the efforts of the Russians? No! my failure must be attributed to pure accident, to absolute fatality. First a capital was burnt to the ground, in spite of its inhabitants and through foreign intrigues, and in defiance of its inhabitants; then winter set in with such unusual suddenness and severity that it was regarded as a kind of phenomenon. To these disasters must be added a mass of false reports, silly intrigues, treachery, stupidity, and, in short, many things that will perhaps one day come to light, and which will excuse or justify the two great errors I committed in diplomacy and war; namely, to have undertaken such an enterprise, leaving on my flanks, which soon became my rear, two cabinets of which I was not master, and two allied armies, which, on the least check would become my enemies. But to come to a conclusion, and to annul with a word every charge that can be brought against me, I may say that this famous war, this bold enterprise, was perfectly involuntary on my part. I did not wish to fight; neither did Alexander;—but being once in presence, circumstances urged us on, and fate accomplished the rest.”
After a few moments’ silence, and as if waking from a reverie, the Emperor added:—“A Frenchman had in his hands the fate of the world! If he had possessed judgment and spirit equal to the exalted situation in which he was placed, if he had been a good Swede as he pretended to be, he might have restored the glory and power of his adoptive country, have retaken Finland, and arrived at St. Petersburgh before I reached Moscow. But he was swayed by personal considerations, silly vanity, and all sorts of mean passions. His head was turned, when he saw that he, an old Jacobin, was courted and flattered by legitimates; when he found himself holding political and friendly conferences face to face with an Emperor of all the Russias, who took great pains to cajole him. It is affirmed that hints were even 110thrown out to him of the possibility of his obtaining the hand of one of the sisters of the Russian Emperor, by divorcing his wife; and, in a letter addressed to him by a French Prince, the writer remarked, with complacency, that Bearn was the cradle of both their houses! The house of Bernadotte forsooth!
“In his intoxication, he sacrificed both his new and his mother country, his own glory, his true power, the cause of the people, and the welfare of Europe! For this he will pay dearly! No sooner had he accomplished all that was expected of him than he began to feel what awaited him. It is said that he has repented of his conduct; but he has not yet expiated it. He is now the only upstart sovereign in Europe. The Scandal cannot remain unpunished; it would be too dangerous an example.”
THE EMPEROR HAS BUT LITTLE CONFIDENCE IN THE ISSUE OF 1815.—THEMISTOCLES.—IN THE CRISIS OF 1814, NAPOLEON HIMSELF MOMENTARILY ENTERTAINED A THOUGHT OF RESTORING THE BOURBONS.—BARON FAIN’S MANUSCRIPT OF 1814.—THE ABDICATION OF FONTAINEBLEAU, &C.
12th.—The Emperor, adverting to his return from the Island of Elba and his second fall at Waterloo, made some remarkable observations on both these subjects. “It is very certain,” said he, “that, during the events of 1815, I relinquished the anticipation of ultimate success: I lost my first confidence. Perhaps I found that I was wearing beyond the time of life at which fortune usually proves favourable; or, perhaps, in my own eyes, in my own imagination, the spell that had hung over my miraculous career was broken;—but, at all events, I felt that something was wanting. Kind Fortune no longer followed my footsteps, and took pleasure in lavishing her smiles upon me; she was now succeeded by rigid Fate, who took ample revenge for the few favours which I obtained, as it were, by force. It is a remarkable fact that every advantage I obtained at this period was immediately succeeded by a reverse.
“I marched through France, and arrived in the capital 111amidst the enthusiasm and universal acclamations of the people; but no sooner had I reached Paris than, by a sort of magic, and without any adequate motive, all around suddenly shrank from me and grew cold.
“I had adduced plausible reasons for obtaining a sincere reconciliation with Austria, whither I had despatched agents, more or less avowed.[8] But Murat was there with his fatal enterprise. It was concluded, at Vienna that he was acting under my orders; and, measuring me by their own scale, they regarded my whole conduct as a complication of artifice, and determined to overreach me by counter-intrigue.
“The opening of my campaign was well managed and proved most successful. I should have surprised the enemy in detail; had not a deserter from among our generals given him timely notice of my plans.
“I gained the brilliant victory of Ligni; but my lieutenant robbed me of its fruits. Finally, I triumphed even at Waterloo, and was immediately hurled into the abyss. Yet I must confess that all these strokes of fate distressed me more than they surprised me. I felt the presentiment of an unfortunate result. Not that this in any way influenced my determinations and measures; but the foreboding certainly haunted my mind.”
That such was really Napoleon’s state of feeling at the period here alluded to is evident from the following anecdote, which is so very remarkable that I cannot forbear presenting it to the reader. When on the banks of the Sambre, the Emperor early one morning approached a 112bivouac fire, accompanied only by his aide-de-camp on duty (General C—--); some potatoes were boiling on the fire, and the Emperor asked for one, and began to eat it. Then, with a meditative and somewhat melancholy expression, he uttered the following broken sentences:—“After all, it is good, it is endurable.... Man may live in any place, and in any way.... The moment perhaps is not far distant.... Themistocles!...” The aide-de-camp above mentioned, who himself related this circumstance to me, since my return to Europe, observed that, had the Emperor been successful, these words would have passed away without leaving any impression on him; but that, after the catastrophe, and particularly after reading the celebrated letter to the Prince Regent, he had been struck with the recollection of the bivouac of the Sambre; and Napoleon’s manner, tone, and expression, had since so haunted his mind, that he could never banish the circumstance from his memory.
It is a mistake to suppose that Napoleon was on all occasions inspired by that internal confidence which his acts and decisions seemed to denote. When he quitted the Tuileries, in January 1814, to enter upon his immortal but unfortunate campaign in the environs of Paris, his mind was depressed by gloomy apprehensions:—and a circumstance that bears evidence of his penetration and foresight is that, at the period in question, he felt convinced of what the majority of those about him were far from suspecting;—namely, that if he fell, it would be by the Bourbons. This idea he communicated to a few of his particular friends, who vainly endeavoured to rouse his confidence by representing that the Bourbons were forgotten, that they were wholly unknown to the present generation:—“There is the real danger,” was his invariable reply. Thus, immediately after his eloquent and impressive harangue to the officers of the national guard, in which among other things he said:—“You elected me, I am your work, and it is for you to defend me;” and which he concluded by presenting to them the Empress and the King of Rome, saying, “I“I go to oppose the enemy, and I consign to your care all that 113I hold most dear:”—immediately after delivering this address, when on the point of quitting the Tuileries, he foresaw at that decisive moment the treachery and perfidy that awaited him, and he resolved to secure the person of him who proved to be the main-spring of the plot, by which his overthrow was effected. He was prevented from executing his intention only by representations, and it may even be said, offers of personal responsibility, on the part of some of his Ministers, who assured him that the individual suspected had more reason than any one else to dread the return of the Bourbons. Napoleon yielded; at the same time emphatically expressing fears that he might have cause to regret his forbearance!...
The following circumstance, which is but little known, is important, since it proves how much, in the height of the crisis. Napoleon’s thoughts were directed towards the Bourbons. After the check sustained at Brienne, the evacuation of Troyes, the forced retreat on the Seine, and the degradingdegrading conditions which were transmitted from Chatillon, but which were so generously rejected, the Emperor, who was closeted with one of his friends, overpowered at sight of the miseries that were impending on France, suddenly rose from his chair, exclaiming with warmth:—“Perhaps I still possess the means of saving France.... What if I were myself to recal the Bourbons! The Allies would then be compelled to arrest their course, under pain of being overwhelmed with disgrace and detected in their duplicity; under pain of being forced to acknowledge that their designs were directed against our territory rather than against my person. I should sacrifice all to the country. I should become the mediator between the French people and the Bourbons. I should oblige the latter to accede to the national laws, and to swear fidelity to the existing compact: my glory and name would be a guarantee to the French people. As for me, I have reigned long enough. My career is filled with acts of glory; and this last will not be esteemed the least. I shall rise the higher by descending thus far....” Then, after a pause of some moments, he added:—“But can a repulsed dynasty ever forgive?... Can it ever forget?... Can the Bourbons 114be trusted?... May not Fox be right in his famous maxim respecting restorations?...”
Overcome by grief and anxiety, he threw himself on his couch, and was shortly after roused to be made acquainted with the march of the flank of Blucher’s corps, on which he had for some time been secretly keeping watch. He rose to put into action that new spring of resources, energy, and glory, which will for ever consecrate the names of Champ-Aubert, Montmirail, Chateau-Thierry, Vaux-Champ, Nangis, Montereau, Craon, &c. These marvellous successes dismayed Alexander and the English, and suggested to them the expediency of treating: they might indeed have entirely changed the face of affairs, had not Napoleon’s designs been thwarted by accidents beyond the reach of human calculation. For example, the important orders which did not reach the Viceroy, the defection of Murat, the indolence and negligence of certain Chiefs, and finally, even the successful movements of the French, which, by separating the Emperor of Austria from the other Allied Sovereigns, left the latter entirely free to plan the abdication of Fontainebleau, an event which will ever be celebrated in the history of our destiny and our moral character.
Philosophic thinkers, painters of the human heart, turn your eyes to Fontainebleau, and contemplate the fall of the greatest of monarchs! Observe how the retinue by which the unfortunate hero was surrounded,—those whom he had loaded with favours, honours, and riches,—at the first frown of fortune, forsook, betrayed, and even sought to insult him!... Mark how the first among them in rank, in favour, in confidence—he whom the great Prince had vainly sought to inspire with exalted sentiment, by treating him as his companion and his friend,—mark how this man degraded himself to the level of the Mameluke, whose native manners rendered him perhaps more excusable, and who thought it perfectly natural to forsake his fallen master.
At Fontainebleau, the crisis being accomplished, and while Napoleon was earnestly engaged, this favourite companion presented himself before him to solicit permission to proceed to Paris, only, as he said, for a short time, 115and for the purpose of settling some business, after which, he declared that he should return to the Emperor, never again to leave him. But Napoleon could read the secrets of the human mind, and that person had scarcely withdrawn, when the Emperor, breaking from the subject on which he was engaged, said to him with whom he had been conversing:—“There he goes to seal his own degradation; and, in spite of all his protestations, he will never come back again,“ He spoke truly; the deserter hastened to greet the first rays of the rising sun; and no sooner had it shone upon him than he renounced his benefactor, his friend, and master!... In speaking of the Emperor, he was even known to use the expression that man! And yet Napoleon so readily forgave human weakness, and was so superior to every feeling of rancour and resentment, that, on his return from Elba, he expressed regret at not seeing the individual who had acted so treacherous a part, adding, with a smile:—“The rogue is afraid of me, I suppose; but he has no reason to be so. The only punishment I should have inflicted on him would have been to require him to appear before me in his new costume. They tell me he looks even uglier than usual.“
And how many instances of private turpitude might not be mentioned! I myself can attest that an important personage, who had been most remarkable for his base conduct on returning from Fontainebleau, appeared one of the most forward at the Tuileries, on the 20th of March. He appeared very much disconcerted at the accidental or intended solitude in which he was left by all the rest. A witness of his late misconduct, burying the recollection of past troubles in the present joy, hastened to him and relieved him from his embarrassment. Such generosity cost little at that moment.
I refer to the Manuscript of 1814, for a picture of these mortifying events.[9] The reader may there learn—But 116no, he will learn nothing new—In all circumstances, at all times, and in all countries, men, and particularly courtiers, are ever the same; and it must be recollected that, by this time, Napoleon’s camp had become a Court.—Let not these men say that their conduct was dictated by regard for the welfare and interest of their country. The thought of securing the undisturbed enjoyment of the wealth and honours they had acquired superseded in their minds every patriotic consideration. But history will be just. I say history, for the bulk of the present generation cannot even claim this sad honour. Where was our indignation? Where was our reprobation authentically and solemnly pronounced?... And let it be understood that this is a point wholly unconnected with political considerations. The question is not what cause these men supported: but merely, what moral principle they professed. But it must not be supposed that discontented misanthropy would lead me to draw a picture discouraging to all hearts, and to conclude with the proscription of all mankind. By no means:—I am well aware that the moment of great trials is that of great extremes; and that, amidst the basest passions, the most brilliant heroism and noble virtue shine conspicuous. Therefore, honoured be those veteran bands, whose bitter tears attested their sincere sorrow! Honoured 117be those innumerable subaltern officers to whom a word would have been the signal for shedding every drop of their blood! Honoured be the generous peasantry, who presented to our troops their last morsel of bread; and, disregarding their own privations, parted with all, to aid the brave defenders of their country! Honoured be those generous sentiments that were expressed by the citizens of every class, sex, and age! If, on the one side, the heart is roused to indignation, it finds a delicious source of gratification on the other.
At St. Helena, the Emperor dictated an account of the events of Fontainebleau, and his removal to the Island of Elba; but my memory does not enable me to quote any of the facts thus detailed. I took no notes of them, because, with a view of abridging my own labour, I laid down the rule of passing over those subjects that were dictated to others, being assured that they would be faithfully recorded. I shall, therefore, merely subjoin a few particulars which are collected from Napoleon’s conversations, or other authentic sources.
When the disasters of 1814 were apparent, when the danger was imminent, particularly after the entrance of the Allies into Paris, many of the French Generals began to waver. Those in whom selfishness prevailed over patriotism; those who would rather retire from the fatigues of war, than obey the dictates of duty, honour and glory; urged on the catastrophe, instead of seeking to avert it. The most distinguished Chiefs ventured to advise the abdication, and declared it to be indispensable. Some even went so far as to hint to the Emperor that they could not answer for the consequences of the dissatisfaction and indignation which the soldiers manifested towards him; while, on the contrary, as Napoleon himself said, “such was the attachment of the troops, and the devotedness of the officers, that, if I had made known the machinations that were plotting, I certainly should have endangered those who were guilty of such misrepresentation. A single word from me would have sacrificed them.” Napoleon reviewed the troops: their acclamations were enthusiastic and general. It appeared as though adversity served only to render the 118Emperor the more dear to them, for their attachment was never so decidedly expressed. “It was impossible that it could be otherwise,” said Napoleon, “such was the identity of these brave men with me, and such our mutual sympathy, I never entertained a doubt of their attachment.”
In this extremity, Napoleon profoundly reflected on what course it was advisable for him to pursue. He yet possessed forty or fifty thousand troops, the best and most devoted in the world; he might, without risk, have overawed or dismissed the faithless Generals. In this state of things, three different measures, by turns, presented themselves to his mind.
The first was to return to Paris; for he imagined that no General on earth would be bold enough to give him battle with that immense capital in his rear. “At my command,” said the Emperor, “the whole population would have risen. I should suddenly have found my forces recruited, by the addition of one or two hundred thousand men. But the Allies, on retiring, might have burnt the capital; and this disaster would have been accounted my work. It is true, the burning of Paris might have proved in reality the salvation of France, as the burning of Moscow was the salvation of Russia; but such sacrifices can only be made by the parties interested.”
The second idea which suggested itself to the Emperor’s mind was to proceed to Italy, to form a junction with the Viceroy. “But this,” said Napoleon, “would have been a desperate course, without the chance of obtaining an adequate result. It would have removed the theatre of conflict to too remote a point. Public enthusiasm would have had time to subside; and we should no longer have been fighting in France, on whose sacred soil alone we could hope to work the prodigies that had become indispensable.”
Neither of these two measures would have been practicable. Only the third course, therefore, remained, and this was, to continue on the defensive, to dispute every foot of ground, and to maintain the war until new chances should arise. The stupor, which the presence 119of the invaders had produced, would soon be dispelled; the miseries they created would soon render them the objects of execration: the national enthusiasm would revive; and the Allies would find their graves in the land which they had presumed to violate. But this must necessarily have been the work of time; in a word, success was doubtful, or, at least, remote; while the sufferings of the people were certain, immediate, and incalculable. The noble mind of Napoleon was moved; and he resolved to abdicate.
Meanwhile, he despatched to the Emperor Alexander a deputation of Marshals, among whom was the Duke of Ragusa, one of those to whom he was most fondly attached. The Deputation was instructed to propose the abdication of Napoleon, in favour of his son. The Emperor thus hoped to save France, to secure her independence and the duration of her existing institutions. The Emperor Alexander, who had several days before publicly declared that he would not treat either with Napoleon or any of the members of his family, nevertheless discussed the subject contradictorily with that party of the Senate who proposed the abdication. The Marshals spoke vehemently, and in the name of the whole army. Alexander’s determination was shaken, and the party favourable to the Regency seemed likely to prevail, when intelligence arrived of the defection of the Duke of Ragusa; and this circumstance confirmed Alexander in his previous resolution. The event came upon him like a ray of light: the army, then, is not unanimous, thought he! From that moment, setting aside all reserve, he declared himself to be inflexible. In this state of things, Napoleon was surrounded, urged, and harassed to sign his positive and unconditional abdication. He yielded, after a great internal struggle, and dictated the act of abdication, in the following terms:—
“The Allied Powers having proclaimed that the Emperor Napoleon is the only obstacle to the re-establishment of the peace of Europe, the Emperor, faithful to his oath, renounces for himself and his heirs, the thrones of France and Italy, and declares that there is no sacrifice, 120even that of life, which he is not ready to make for the interests of France.”
This declaration, which the Allies were far from expecting in so absolute a form, smoothed every difficulty, and the Marshals returned with what is called the treaty of Fontainebleau, which I shall presently insert.
I find in Baron Fain’s Manuscript of 1814, a complete explanation of certain remarks made by the Emperor, which I noted down at the time, without exactly comprehending their meaning. In a former part of this Journal, the Emperor, alluding to the treaty of Fontainebleau, says, “I will have nothing to do with that treaty; I disclaim it. Far from being proud of it, I blush for it. It was discussed for me, and against my will,” &c. And, on another occasion, he says, “When the history of the events of Fontainebleau comes to be known, it will afford ample room for surprise.” The Manuscript of 1814 proves that Napoleon had, indeed, nothing to do with the treaty of Fontainebleau. The utmost exertions were employed to prevail on him to sign the treaty; and he was, at length, only influenced by the public considerations that were adduced in support of it. He thought it both degrading and useless to sign the treaty. Having survived his greatness, he wished thenceforth to live as a private individual; and he was mortified to reflect that the vast sacrifice which had been made, for the peace of the world, should be mingled with pecuniary arrangements. “Of what use is a treaty,” said he, “since they will not settle the interests of France with me? If only my personal interests are concerned, there is no need of a treaty. I am conquered; I yield to the fate of arms. All I ask is that I may not be accounted a prisoner of war: and for that a mere cartel is sufficient!”
Every endeavour to turn his thoughts to his personal situation, his existence, and future wants, proved unavailing. To all such suggestions, he energetically replied, “What matters it? A horse and a crown a day are all that I want.”
I, for my own part, can bear witness that the Emperor infinitely regretted having ratified the treaty of Fontainebleau; and this was not the only decision of the 121period which weighed heavily on his mind. He also very much regretted having yielded, when in his position at St. Dizier and Doulevant, to the various representations and suggestions by which he was assailed, and which brought him back against his inclination upon Paris. “HereParis. “Here I wanted firmness,” said he; “I should have followed up my intention of advancing to the Rhine, collecting reinforcements from all the garrisons on my way, and exciting the peasantry to rise. By this means, I should soon have possessed an immense army. Murat would immediately have rejoined me; and he and the Viceroy would have made me master of Vienna, if the Allies had presumed to deprive me of Paris. But no: the enemy would have shrunk from the dangers with which he would have been surrounded. The Allied Sovereigns would have regarded it as a favour to have been permitted to retire; and then the volcano of foreigners against us would have been completely extinguished. Peace would have been concluded and sincerely maintained; for all were exhausted; all had wounds to heal!... Abroad, war could no longer have been thought of; and at home, such a result must have had the effect of destroying all illusion, frustrating every evil design, and permanently blending the opinions, views, and interests of all parties. I should once more have seated myself triumphantly on the throne, surrounded by my invincible bands. The heroic and faithful portion of the people would have harmonized those who had wavered; and the men who had shewn themselves so eager for repose might have enjoyed it. A new generation of chiefs would have remoulded our character. Every effort would have been directed to the internal welfare of the country; and France would have been happy!”
When speaking of the confusion created in Paris, by the approach of the Allies; the dejection, to use no stronger term, that was evinced by the upper classes; the good spirit and enthusiasm manifested by the great body of the people, who were ready to fight, if they could have procured arms,—I observed that the departure of the Empress had produced a fatal effect on the public mind. I mentioned, as a singular circumstance, 122that the young King of Rome, contrary to custom, obstinately refused to quit the palace: he wept bitterly, and it was found necessary to carry him away by force. I also added that it was universally reported that the Empress wished to remain, and that the Council was inclined to second her wishes, until precise orders were received from the Emperor, directing her to quit Paris, in case of urgent danger on the part of the enemy. “Yes,” said the Emperor, “and“and those orders were very necessary. The Empress was young and totally inexperienced. Had she been capable of personal decision, my directions would have been quite the contrary. Paris then would have been her proper post. But I foresaw the intrigues of which she would be the object; and I wished to prevent at Paris what subsequently occurred at Orleans. There the men who were planning the Regency, in the expectation of ruling under the Empress, prevented her from joining me. What fatal consequences were thus produced! Would to Heaven that I had also despatched timely orders, directing her to quit Orleans!”
It is certain that at FontainebleauFontainebleau Napoleon was, almost at one and the same moment, the victim of every kind of mental distress with which man can possibly be assailed. Subdued by defection and not by force of arms, he felt all that could rouse the indignation of a lofty mind, or break an affectionate heart. His friends forsook him; his servants betrayed him; one surrendered his army; another his treasure. The men whom he had reared, maintained and loaded with favours, were those who wrought his overthrow. The members of the senate, who, only the day before, had supplied him profusely with conscripts to oppose the enemy, scrupled not to become the instruments of that very enemy. Under the impulse of foreign bayonets, they imputed to him as a crime that which was their own work; and basely broke the idol which they had themselves created, and so servilely worshipped. What a depth of disgrace and degradation!... Finally (and this stroke Napoleon felt more severely than all the rest), his wife and child were carried away from him; and, in defiance of treaties and laws, in opposition to all moral principle, he was never allowed to see them more!...
123It appears that Napoleon, oppressed by this weight of affliction, surrounded by this odious turpitude, in his utter contempt of human nature, and all things connected with this world, formed the resolution of putting an end to his life. A letter has been preserved, written in his own hand to the Empress, in which he says that the moment has arrived when she must prepare her mind for every thing; that all is possible, even the death of the Emperor. This was, doubtless, an allusion to the mysterious event of the night of the 12th of April, which was wrapt in profound secrecy. The Manuscript of 1814, however, contains some particulars relative to this occurrence, which, if they be correct, will not leave the furious enemies of Napoleon even the satisfaction of repeating the stupid and vulgar remark, that he had not courage to die; ... for, according to the Manuscript, it appears, on the contrary, that he could not die! This is not the least extraordinary event in Napoleon’s career. His remark, Heaven has ordained that I shall live! and the calm and noble resignation, which from that moment succeeded, appear truly sublime.
Napoleon’s celebrated farewell address to his troops, and his last embrace of those eagles which he had immortalized, are well known. A Prussian diplomatist, who was present, has assured me that the scene produced an impression on him which time can never obliterate. He added that the English Commissioner, who stood near him, and who had previously been an inveterate enemy of Napoleon’s, was so deeply moved that he shed tears.
Such were the sentiments of respect and veneration naturally inspired by Napoleon that, in spite of the danger and inconvenience occasioned by his presence in France, no one presumed to hasten his departure; and he was allowed full time to make all the arrangements that he wished.
The treaty of abdication is dated the 11th of April, and Napoleon did not quit Fontainebleau until the 20th, nine days after. Throughout the first part of his journey, 124he was the object of universal respect, and often of the warmest and most affectionate interest.[10]
Hitherto, foreigners seemed to have formed no idea of the spirit that prevailed in France, or of the real feelings of the people with regard to the Emperor. However, it was deemed prudent to arrange matters so that Napoleon should reach Lyons in the night; or, I rather believe, it was intended to prevent his entering that city at all. I received the following particulars from an English gentleman, one of those who had been long detained in France, and who happened, at the period in question, to be residing at Lyons. My informant and the Austrian General went out in disguise, and mingled with the crowd that had assembled to see the dethroned monarch pass by. They expected to be much amused with the imprecations of which, they concluded, he would be the object. But, as soon as the Emperor appeared, deep silence prevailed among the multitude; and an old woman, to all appearance above the common class, habited in deep mourning, and with a countenance full of enthusiasm, rushed forward to the door of the Emperor’s carriage. “Sire,” said she, with an air of solemnity, “may the blessing of Heaven attend you! Endeavour to make yourself happy. They tear you from us; but our hearts are with you wheresoever you go.” The Austrian General, quite disconcerted, said to his companion, 125“Let us begone; I have no patience with this old mad woman. The people have not common sense.”
A little beyond Lyons, the General-in-chief of the army of the East appeared on the road; and Napoleon, alighting from his carriage, walked with him for a considerable way. When the General had taken his leave, one of the allied Commissioners ventured to express his surprise that the Emperor should have treated him with such an appearance of friendship and confidence. “Why should I not?” inquired Napoleon.—“Your Majesty is, perhaps, not aware of his conduct?“—“What has he done?“—“Sire, he entered into an understanding with us several weeks ago.” “It was even so,” said the Emperor, “he to whom I had entrusted the defence of France on this point, sacrificed and betrayed the country.” After many complaints of the perfidy of men in whom he had reposed confidence, he concluded by saying: “The Marshal was no longer the soldier. His early courage and virtues had raised him above the multitude; but honours, dignities, and fortune, again reduced him to the common level. The conqueror of Castiglione might have left behind him a name dear to his country. But France will execrate the memory of the traitor of Lyons, and all who acted as he did, unless, indeed, their future services shall make amends for their past wrongs.”
This circumstance dictated the famous proclamation which the Emperor issued on his return. “Frenchmen,” said he, “the defection of the Duke of Castiglione left Lyons defenceless and at the mercy of the enemy. The army, the command of which I had entrusted to that Chief, was, from the number of its battalions, and the courage and patriotism of its troops, capable of defeating the corps of the Austrian army opposed to it, and advancing on the rear of the left flank of the enemy’s force that threatened Paris. The victories of ChampChamp-Aubert, Montmirail, Chateau-Thierry, Vaux-Champ, Mormans, Montereau, Craon, Rheims, Arcis-sur-Aube, and St. Dizier; the rising of the brave peasantry of Lorraine, Champagne, Alsace, the Franche-Comte, and Burgundy; the position which I had taken up in the rear of the enemy, intercepting his magazines, parks of 126reserve, convoys, and equipages—all had thrown the invading forces into a desperate situation. The French people never had the prospect of becoming more powerful. The enemy’s picked corps would have been irretrievably lost, and would have found their graves in those plains which they so mercilessly ravaged, when the treason of the Duke of Ragusa delivered up the capital, and disorganized the army. The unlooked-for conduct of these two generals, who at once betrayed their country, their Prince, and their benefactor, changed the fate of the war. Such was the disastrous situation of the enemy, after the affair which took place before Paris, that he was absolutely destitute of ammunition, by being separated from his parks of reserve,” &c.[11]
Napoleon was less favourably received in proportion as he approached Provence; for there the machinations of his enemies had anticipated his arrival. He had escaped the ambush of Maubreuil, but he could not avoid that of Orgon; and this part of his dictated narrative is not the least curious.
On his arrival at the place of embarkation, he found two vessels in readiness to receive him; the one French and the other English. Napoleon went on board the English frigate, observing that, he would never allow itit to be said that a Frenchman had conveyed him away.
Such is a brief account of the great event, the details of which, dictated by Napoleon himself, will, as I have already mentioned, hereafter be presented to the public. France was, at the time, inundated with pamphlets on the subject, so full of falsehood and absurdity that every honest and sensible man now blushes for having given credit to them, or having had even the courage to read them.
The following is the treaty of Fontainebleau, to which I have already alluded. It was carefully suppressed at 127the time it was drawn up, was never published in the Moniteur, and remained long unknown. It is to be found only in official collections, and even there the copies differ one from another. I presume, therefore, that its insertion here will not be deemed superfluous. It is intimately connected with the subject of which I have just been treating, and many of its articles are still the topics of daily conversation; and it must of course be satisfactory to be enabled to discuss with a full knowledge of facts.
TREATY OF FONTAINEBLEAU.
“Article I. His Majesty the Emperor Napoleon renounces for himself, his successors and descendants, as well as for all the members of his family, all right of sovereignty and dominion over the French Empire, and the kingdom of Italy, as well as over every other country.
“II. Their Majesties the Emperor Napoleon and Empress Maria Louisa, shall retain their titles and rank, to be enjoyed during their lives.
“The mother, brothers, sisters, nephews and nieces of the Emperor, shall also retain, wherever they may reside, the titles of Princes of the Emperor’s family.
“III. The Isle of Elba, adopted by his Majesty the Emperor Napoleon as his place of residence, shall form, during his life, a separate principality, which shall be possessed by him in full sovereignty and property.
“There shall be besides granted, in full property to the Emperor Napoleon, an annual revenue of 2,000,000 francs in rent charge in the great book of France, of which 1,000,000 shall be in reversion to the Empress.
“IV. All the Powers promise to employ their good offices in causing to be respected by the Barbary Powers the flag and territory of the Isle of Elba; for which purpose, the relations with the Barbary Powers shall be assimilated to those of France.
“V. The Duchies of Parma, Placentia, and Guastalla, shall be granted in full property and sovereignty to her Majesty the Empress Maria Louisa. They shall pass to the Prince her son, and to his descendants in the right 128line. The Prince shall, henceforth, take the title of Prince of Parma, Placentia, and Guastalla.
“VI. There shall be reserved in the territories renounced by this treaty, to his Majesty the Emperor Napoleon, for himself and his family, domains, rent charges, in the great book of France, producing an annual revenue, clear of all deductions and charges, of 2,500,000 francs. These domains, or rents, shall belong, in full property, to be disposed of as they think fit, to the Princes and Princesses of the Emperor’s family, and shall be divided amongst them in such manner that the revenues of each shall be in the following proportion, viz:
Francs.
To Madame Mère 300,000
To King Joseph and his Queen 500,000
To King Louis 200,000
To the Queen Hortense and her children 400,000
To King Jerome and his Queen 500,000
To the Princess Eliza 300,000
To the Princess Paulina 300,000
“The Princes and Princesses of the family of the Emperor Napoleon shall moreover retain all the property, moveable and immoveable, of every kind whatever, which they may possess by private right; together with the rents which they hold also, as private individuals, in the great book of France, or the Monte-Napoleone of Milan.
“VII. The annual pension of the Empress Josephine shall be reduced to 1,000,000 in domains, or inscriptions in the great book of France. She shall continue to enjoy, in full property, all her private fortune, moveable and immoveable, with power to dispose of it conformably to the French Laws.
“VIII. There shall be granted to Prince Eugene, Viceroy of Italy, a suitable establishment out of France.
“IX. The property which the Emperor Napoleon possesses in France, either as extraordinary domain, or private domain, will remain attached to the crown.
“Of the funds vested by the Emperor in the great book of France, in the French bank, in the Actions des Forêts, or in any other manner, and which his Majesty 129resigns to the Crown, there shall be reserved a capital, not exceeding 2,000,000 of francs, to be expended in gratuities, in favour of the individuals whose names shall be contained in a list signed by the Emperor Napoleon, and which shall be transmitted to the French Government.
“X.—All the crown diamonds shall remain in France.
“XI.—His Majesty the Emperor Napoleon shall return to the Treasury, and to the other public funds, all the sums and effects that may have been taken therefrom by his orders, with the exception of what has been appropriated from the civil list.
“XII.—The debts of the household of his Majesty the Emperor Napoleon, such as they may be at the time of the signature of the present treaty, shall be immediately discharged out of the arrears due by the public treasury to the civil list, according to a list which shall be signed by a Commissioner appointed for that purpose.
“XIII.—The obligations of the Monte-Napoleone, of Milan, towards all creditors, whether Frenchmen or foreigners, shall be punctually fulfilled, without any change being made in this respect.
“XIV.—There shall be granted all the necessary passports for the free passage of his Majesty the Emperor Napoleon, the Empress, the Princes and Princesses, and all the persons of their suites, who wish to accompany them, or fix their abode in foreign countries, as well as for the passage of all the equipages, horses, and effects, belonging to them.
“The Allied Powers will, in consequence, furnish officers and men for escorts.
“XV.—The French Imperial Guard shall furnish a detachment of from 1200 to 1500 men, of all arms, to serve as an escort to the Emperor to St. Tropez, the place of his embarkation.
“XVI.—A brig and the necessary transport vessels shall be fitted out to convey to the place of his destination his Majesty the Emperor Napoleon and his household. The brig shall belong, in full property, to his Majesty the Emperor.
130“XVII.—The Emperor shall be allowed to take with him, and retain, as his guard, 400 men, volunteers and officers, as well as sub-officers and soldiers.
“XVIII.—Every Frenchman who may follow the Emperor Napoleon, or his family, shall be held to have forfeited his rights as a Frenchman, should he not return to France within three years; at least, if he be not included in the exceptions which the French Government reserves to itself to grant, after the expiration of that period.
“XIX.—The Polish troops of all arms, in the service of France, shall be at liberty to return home, and shall retain their arms and baggage, as a testimony of their honourable services. The officers, sub-officers, and soldiers, shall retain the decorations which have been granted to them, and the pensions annexed to these decorations.
“XX.—The Allied Powers guarantee the execution of the articles of the present treaty, and promise to obtain its adoption and guarantee by France.
“XXI.—The present act shall be ratified, and the ratifications exchanged at Paris within ten days, or sooner, if possible.
“Done at Paris, April 11, 1814.
(Signed) Caulaincourt, Duke of Vicenza;
Marshal Macdonald, Duke of Tarento;
Marshal Ney, Duke of Elchingen;[12]
Prince Metternich.”
The same articles were signed separately and under the same date, by Count Nesselrode on behalf of Russia, and Baron Hardenberg, on behalf of Prussia.
DECLARATION OF ACCESSION IN THE NAME OF LOUIS XVIII.
“The undersigned, Minister and Secretary of State 131for the department of Foreign Affairs, having submitted to the King the inquiry which their excellencies the plenipotentiaries of the Allied Powers have been ordered by their sovereigns to make, relative to the treaty of the 11th of April, to which the Provisional Government has acceded; his Majesty has been pleased to authorize him in his name, to declare that the clauses of the treaty, in so far as France is concerned, shall be faithfully executed. The undersigned has consequently the honour to communicate this declaration to their excellencies.
(Signed) “The Prince of Benevento.
“Paris, May 31, 1814.”
The great European triumvirate dew up the treaty of Fontainebleau, England acceded to it, a declaration made in the name of the King of France promised its fulfilment in so far as he was concerned; and yet, in spite of all these guarantees, it may be said that scarcely any of the articles were observed. Certainly, it would be difficult to conceive a more flagrant violation of good faith or a more absolute compromise of the august signatures, which, it was to be expected, each party would have been individually interested in preserving unsullied and sacred. On these manifest violations was grounded the moral justification of Napoleon’s enterprise in 1815. This opinion was pretty generally adopted: it was advocated by the most distinguished members of the English Parliament, those indefatigable supporters of great principles, and by eminent statesmen of all countries. I may add to these high authorities an individual opinion, which though somewhat comically expressed, was not perhaps the less just. An Austrian gentleman of rank, who was in Paris in 1815, and who was a furious enemy of Napoleon’s, called on me just at the time when the Emperor’s advance to the capital began to produce a great sensation. The Austrian had already determined to set off, and he said to me, with all possible gravity and sincerity: “Certainly, he hitherto occupied the throne of France as an usurper: that’s unquestionable! But,” added he, quibbling with himself diplomatically, “if he should now conquer France, after all the monarchs of 132Europe have acknowledged him as a sovereign, and have entitled him to go to war by not observing the conditions they entered into, the case would be very different. And, upon my word! ... for my own part at least ... I think in that case ... there might be some ground for maintaining that he has become legitimate. At least, I think I should myself be inclined to consider him so.”
LETTER FROM LORD CASTLEREAGH TO LORD BATHURST,
RELATIVE TO THE TREATY OF FONTAINEBLEAU.
(Paris, April 15, 1814.)
“... I shall, therefore, on the present occasion, confine myself to an explanation of what has passed with respect to the future destination and settlement of Napoleon and his family.
“Your Lordship has been already informed, by Lord Cathcart, of the Act of Abdication which was signed by Buonaparte, on the 4th instant, and of the assurance which was given him by the Emperor of Russia, and the Provisional Government, of a pecuniary provision of six millions of francs, with a safe asylum in the Island of Elba. The act in question was deposited in the hands of M. de Caulaincourt, and Marshals Ney and Macdonald, to be given up upon the due execution of engagements on the part of the Allies, with respect to the proposed arrangement. These persons were also authorized to agree to an armistice, and to settle such a line of demarcation as might be satisfactory to the Allies, and, in the mean time, prevent an unnecessary effusion of blood.
“On my arrival, I found this arrangement on the point of execution. A convention had been discussed, and would have, in fact, been signed in the course of the day by the Russian Minister, had not the approach of the Allied Ministers been announced. The motives for accelerating the immediate conclusion of this act, were the inconvenience, if not the danger of Napoleon’s remaining at Fontainebleau, surrounded by troops, who still, in a considerable degree, remained faithful to him; the apprehension of intrigues in the army and in the capital; and the importance attached, by a considerable 133portion of the officers, to some arrangement favourable to their chief, in satisfaction of their personal honour, before they left him.
“On the night of my arrival, the four Ministers had a conference with the Prince de Benevento, on the subject of the proposed convention, to which I stated my objections, desiring, at the same time, to be understood as not urging them then, at the hazard of the internal tranquillity of France, nor in impeachment of what was due, in good faith, to the assurance given, under the exigency of the moment, by Russia.
“The Prince de Benevento admitted the weight of many of the objections stated, but declared that he did consider it, on the part of the Provisional Government, as an object of the first importance, to avoid any thing that might assume the character of a civil war, even for the shortest time:—that he also found some such measure necessary, to make the army pass over in a temper to be made use of. Upon these declarations, and the Count de Nesselrode’s, that the Emperor, his master, had found it necessary, in the absence of the Allies, to act for the best, in their name as well as his own; I withdrew any further opposition to the principle of the measure, suggesting only some alterations in the details. I desired, however, to decline, on the part of my Government, being more than an acceding party to the treaty, and declared that the Act of Accession on the part of Great Britain should not go beyond the territorial arrangements proposed in the Treaty. My objections to our unnecessarily mixing in its forms, especially in the recognition of Napoleon’s title under present circumstances, were considered as perfectly reasonable: and I now enclose the protocol and note, which will explain the extent to which I have taken it upon me to give assurances on the part of my Court.
“At my suggestion, the recognition of the imperial titles in the family were limited to their respective lives, for which there was a precedent in the case of the King of Poland, when he became Elector of Saxony.
“To the arrangement in favour of the Empress, I not only felt no objection, but considered it due to the distinguished 134sacrifice of domestic feelings which the Emperor of Austria was making to the cause of Europe. I should have wished to substitute another position in lieu of Elba, for the seat of Napoleon’s retirement; but none, having the quality of security on which he insisted, seemed disposable, to which equal objections did not occur; and I did not feel that I could encourage the alternative which M. de Caulaincourt assured me Buonaparte repeatedly mentioned, namely, an asylum in England.
“On the same night, the Allied Ministers had a conference with M. de Caulaincourt, and the Marshals, at which I assisted. The treaty was gone through, and agreed to with alterations: it has been since signed and ratified, and Buonaparte will commence his movement towards the south to-morrow, or the day following.
(Signed) “CASTLEREAGH.”
I thought it advisable to transcribe this letter; it throws a complete light on the treaty of the 11th of April, of the particulars of which I was ignorant, even when at St. Helena; and it presents two points to which I particularly wish to call attention. It explains the observation which fell from the Emperor, when I observed to him that on an important occasion he seemed to have forgotten the acknowledgement of his title by the English at Fontainebleau: when he merely replied that it was done on purpose. Now, I learn from the letter above quoted, that Lord Castlereagh studiously avoided the recognition; but this is no impeachment of the scrupulous correctness of Napoleon’s assertions.
The second point, which impartiality induces me to advert to is that Lord Castlereagh, in his letter, speaks of the alternative offered by Napoleon, to retire to England, in default of the cession of the Isle of Elba. A few pages further on (Nov. 16), it will be found that Napoleon, on the contrary, reproaches Lord Castlereagh with having caused it to be insinuated to him that the adoption of England, as a place of residence, would be the preferable course. These two statements are certainly quite contradictory; but regard for impartiality, as I before observed, has induced me to insert them. The 135reader is, therefore, free to decide as he may think fit; for, as I have often heard the Emperor say, one man’s word is as good as another’s. For my own part, my choice is soon determined: I adopt the words of Napoleon, in spite of the assertions of Lord Castlereagh. I still bear in mind the erroneous declarations of Lord Whitworth, which have been mentioned in the course of this Journal; the scandalous assertions respecting Napoleon, made by Lord Castlereagh in Parliament or in public assemblies; the garbled documents, on the authority of which Murat’s deposition was decreed; and the numerous denials so confidently expressed by Lord Bathurst in the House of Lords, the falsehood of which was manifest to every individual at St. Helena, and occasioned embarrassment even to Sir Hudson Lowe. I shall, therefore, adhere to the opinion I have formed, until I find good reason to alter it.
THE SWORD OF FREDERIC THE GREAT.—ON NAPOLEON’S MARRIAGE IT WAS HOPED THAT THE LION WOULD SLUMBER.—TORMENTING CONDUCT OF THE GOVERNOR.—OUR LOT ENVIABLE, EVEN AMIDST OUR MISERY.
13th.—This morning, when I was in the Emperor’s apartment, being unemployed, I took a fancy to examine the large watch of Frederick the Great, which hangs beside the chimney piece. This led the Emperor to say, “I have been the possessor of glorious and valuable relics. I had the sword of Frederick the Great; and the Spaniards presented to me, at the Tuileries, the sword of Francis I. This was a high compliment, and it must have cost them some sacrifice. The Turks and Persians have also sent me arms, which were said to have belonged to Gengiskan, Tamerlan, Nadir Shah, and I know not whom; but I attached importance not to the fact, but to the intention.”
I expressed my astonishment that he had not endeavoured to keep Frederick’s sword. “Why, I had my own,” said he, smiling, and gently pinching my ear. He was right; I certainly made a very stupid observation.
Afterwards, alluding to his second marriage, he said, 136that he had intendedintended to make choice of a Frenchwoman, and it would have been well if he had done so. “Such a union would have been eminently national,” he observed. “France was sufficiently great, and her Monarch sufficiently powerful, to set aside every consideration of foreign policy. Besides, among Sovereigns, the ties of blood are always made to yield to political interests: hence what scandalous violations of moral feeling are frequently exhibited to the world. Another objection that may be urged against marriages of this kind is the admission of a foreign Princess into state secrets, which she may be tempted to betray; and, if a sovereign places trust in his connexions abroad, he may find that he has set his foot on an abyss covered with flowers. In short, it is absurd to suppose that such alliances can guarantee or ensure any advantage.”
The announcement of the Emperor’s second marriage was a source of joy to those prudent citizens who looked forward to the future.—A few days after he had formed his determination, Napoleon said to one of his Ministers (the Duke DecrèsDecrès), in a moment of good humoured familiarity, “Well; it appears that people are very much pleased with my intended marriage.”—“Yes, Sire.”—“I suppose they expect that the lion will slumber.”—“To say the truth, Sire, we are somewhat inclined to form that expectation.”—“Well,” resumed Napoleon, after a few moments’ silence, “it is a mistake: and it is not the fault of the lion either. Slumber would be as sweet to him as to any other. But do not you see that while I am, to all appearance, incessantly attacking, I am, nevertheless, always engaged in self-defence?”
The correctness of this assertion might have been doubted, while the terrible conflict lasted; but the joy and indiscretion of the triumphant party have sufficiently confirmed its truth. Some boasted of having formed the determination of prosecuting the war until they had accomplished the destruction of their enemy: others[13] have unblushingly proclaimed that the plot for Napoleon’s overthrow was hatched under the mask of alliance and friendship!
137During this and the two succeeding days, my attention was wholly occupied by a contest which concerned me personally, and which has had so much influence on my subsequent destiny, that I cannot pass it over in silence. Ever since my residence at Longwood, I have had, as a servant, a free mulatto, with whom I was very well satisfied; but Sir Hudson Lowe suddenly took it into his head to remove him.
Prompted by the determination of tormenting us, by every means his imagination could suggest, or (as many are inclined to believe,) following up a perfidiously laid plan, he sent the English officer on duty to inform me that he had conceived some doubts as to the propriety of my being attended by a native of the Island; and that he intended to remove my servant and send me one of his own choosing. My answer was brief and positive; “The Governor,” said I, “has it in his power to send away my servant, if he pleases; but he may spare himself the trouble of sending me one of his choosing. I am daily learning better and better how to dispense with the comforts of life. I can, if necessary, wait on myself; this additional privation will be but slightly felt, amidst the sufferings to which we are subjected.”
This circumstance occasioned the interchange of a vast number of messages and notes. Sir Hudson Lowe wrote three or four times every day to the officer on duty directing him to make various communications to me. He observed that he did not understand my scruples, and could not conceive why I should object to any servant he might send me.—One of his selecting was as good as any other—The offer of making the choice himself was merely a mark of attention, &c.
I was distressed to see the poor officer thus mercilessly sent to and fro; and I was also heartily tired of the business myself. I therefore begged that he would spare himself further trouble, by assuring the Governor that to all his communications my reply must invariably be the same; namely, that he might send away my servant if he pleased; but that he must not think of obliging me to receive one of his choosing; that he might place me in garrison by force, but never with my own consent. 138While this correspondence was going forward, my servant was sent for, interrogated, withdrawn from my service, then sent back again, and at length finally withdrawn.
I rendered an account of the whole affair to the Emperor, who highly applauded my determination of not admitting a spy among us. “But,” said he, in the most engaging manner, “as this sacrifice has been made for the interest of all, it is not proper that you alone should be the sufferer. Send to Gentilini, my valet de pied, and let him wait on you: he will be very happy to earn a few Napoleons in addition to his wages: besides, tell him it is by my desire.” Gentilini, at first, cheerfully undertook the duty; but, in the evening, the poor fellow came to inform me that some one had told him, it was not proper for one of the Emperor’s servants to attend on a private person!... The Emperor had the goodness to send for Gentilini, and to repeat the orders with his own mouth.
Thus the Governor daily persecutes us in every imaginable way. I do not mention all the circumstances of this kind that are continually occurring, not because habit has taught me to accommodate myself to them, but, because the vexations that arise from mere ill-nature are but trifles in comparison with the greater miseries which we have to endure....
If I attempt to portray the horrors of my own situation alone, let it be considered that I am exiled, and probably for ever, to a desert rock, two thousand leagues from home, confined in a small prison, beneath a sky, in a climate, and on a soil, totally different from those of my native country. I am hastening to a premature grave, the only probable conclusion of my misery. Bereft of my wife, children, and friends, who, though they still live, may be said to be no longer in the same world with me; shut out from all communication with mankind, I deplore the recollection of family affections, and the charms of friendship and society.... Certainly, there is no man, whatever be his country or his opinions, but must commiserate my lot.... But, in a moment, I can reverse the picture, and my situation will appear an enviable one!...
139Where is the heart that does not beat at the recollection of the achievements of Alexander and Cæsar? Who can approach the relics of Charlemagne without emotion? How happy should we be could we recal the words, the accents, of Henry IV.! Thus, when oppressed by mental dejection, when I feel the necessity of rousing my drooping spirits, while my heart is overflowing with these sensations, and my mind filled with these ideas, I exclaim: I possess all this, and more than this! Here, I am not surrounded by mere illusions and historical recollections; I am in actual contact with the living man who has accomplished so many prodigies. Every day, every moment, I may contemplate the features of him who, with a glance, ordered battles, and decided the fate of empires. I may gaze on the brow that is adorned with the laurels of Rivoli, Marengo, Austerlitz, Wagram, Jena, and Friedland. I may presume to touch the hand that has wielded so many sceptres, and distributed so many crowns; which seized the enemy’s colours at Arcole and Lodi; and which, on a solemn occasion, surrendered into the hands of an afflicted wife the only proofs of her husband’s guilt. I hear the voice of him who, when addressing his troops, in sight of the Egyptian pyramids, said, “My lads, from the summits of those monuments, forty centuries look down upon us!” who, halting and uncovering before a column of wounded Austrian soldiers, exclaimed, “Honour and respect to the unfortunate brave.” I converse, almost familiarly, with the Monarch who ruled Europe; whose pastime was the embellishment of our cities, and the prosperity of our provinces; who raised us to so high a rank in the estimation of nations; and who wafted our glory to the skies!... I see him, I hear him speak, I attend on him, and, perhaps, even help to console him!... Can I then lay claim to pity? On the contrary, will not thousands envy my lot? Who can boast of possessing so many sources of happiness, in circumstances similar to ours?
140
NEW WORKS PLANNED BY THE EMPEROR.—REMARKS ON GREAT COMMANDERS; WAR, &C.—NAPOLEON’S OPINION’S ON VARIOUS INSTITUTIONS.—ADVOCATES.—CURATES.—MISCELLANEOUS OBSERVATIONS.
14th.—The Emperor sent for me about six o’clock. He informed me that he had just been dictating a chapter on maritime rights. He spoke to me of some other works he had in view. I ventured to remind him of the fourteen paragraphs which he had already planned, and to which I alluded on a former occasion. He seemed pleased that I had mentioned the circumstance, and assured me that he would, some day, carry his design into execution.
He read and corrected the valuable notes which he had dictated to the Grand Marshal on ancient and modern warfare, the different plans of composing and regulating armies, &c. He afterwards entered into conversation, and, among other things, said, “No series of great actions is the mere work of chance and fortune; it is always the result of reflection and genius. Great men rarely fail in the most perilous undertakings. Look at Alexander, Cæsar, Hannibal, the great Gustavus, and others; they always succeeded. Were they great men merely because they were fortunate? No; but because, being great men, they possessed the art of commanding fortune. When we come to inquire into the causes of their success, we are astonished to find that they did every thing to obtain it.
“Alexander, when scarcely beyond the age of boyhood, with a mere handful of brave troops, conquered a quarter of the globe. But was this achievement the result of a mere accidental irruption, a sort of unexpected deluge? No; all was profoundly calculated, boldly executed, and prudently managed. Alexander proved himself at once a distinguished warrior, politician, and legislator. Unfortunately, on attaining the zenith of glory and success, his head was turned, and his heart corrupted. He commenced his career with the mind of Trajan; but he closed it with the heart of Nero, and the manners of Heliogabalus.” The Emperor here described the campaigns 141of Alexander in such a manner as enabled me to view the subject in a totally new light.