It is my intention to record daily all that the Emperor
Napoleon did or said while I was about his person;
but, before I begin my diary, I hope to be excused
for offering a few preliminary remarks, which may not
be altogether useless.
I never commenced the perusal of any historical
work without first wishing to know the character of the
author, his situation in society, and his political and
domestic relations; in fact, all the important circumstances
of his life; conceiving that nothing but a knowledge
of these matters could furnish a key to his writings,
or a safe ground of confidence in his statements.
I therefore proceed to supply in my turn that which I
always sought for in others; and, in presenting this
diary, to relate a few facts respecting my past life.
I was scarcely twenty-one years of age when the
Revolution broke out, and had just been made a Lieutenant
de Vaisseau, which corresponded with the rank of a
field officer in the line: my family was at court, and I
had been recently presented there myself. I was not
rich; but my name and rank in life, together with my
professional prospects, were likely, according to the
notions and views of the times, to enable me to marry
according to my wishes. It was at such a moment that
our political troubles burst forth.
One of the principal vices in our system of admission
to the service was that of depriving us of the benefits
of a solid and finished education. Withdrawn from
6school at the early age of fourteen, abandoned from
that instant to ourselves, and launched as it were on a
wide waste, how was it possible to attain the slightest
notion of social organization, public rights, or the duties
of civil life?
Thus, prompted by noble prejudice, rather than by a
just sense of duty, above all, led on by a natural fondness
for generous resolves, I was amongst the first to
hasten abroad and join our Princes; to save, as it was
said, the monarch from revolutionary fury, and to defend
our hereditary rights, which we could not, it was asserted,
yet abandon without shame. From the mode in
which we had been educated, it required either a very
strong head or a very weak mind to resist the torrent.
The emigration soon became general; this fatal measure
is but too well known to Europe; nor can its folly,
as a political blunder and a social crime, find any excuse
in the present day, except in the unenlightened but upright
character of most of those by whom it was undertaken.
Defeated on our own frontiers, discharged and disbanded
by foreigners, rejected and proscribed by the
laws of our country, numbers of us reached England,
whose Ministers lost no time in landing us on the shore
of Quiberon. Being so fortunate as not to disembark,
I had, after my return, time to reflect on the horrible alternative
of fighting against our country under foreign
banners; and, from this moment, my ideas, principles,
and projects were either disconcerted or entirely changed.
Despairing of events, abandoning the world and my
natural sphere, I devoted myself to study; and, under
a borrowed name, went through a second course of education
in attempting to assist that of others.
After a lapse of some years, the treaty of Amiens,
and the amnesty offered by the First Consul, re-opened
to us the gates of France. I had no longer any property
there: the laws had disposed of my patrimony; but can
any thing make us forget our native soil, or destroy the
charm of breathing the air of our own country!
I hurried back, and was grateful for a pardon, rendered
more acceptable since I could say with pride that
7I received it without having any motives of self-reproach.
When monarchy was proclaimed soon after, my situation
and sentiments were of a most singular kind. I found
myself a soldier punished for a cause that had triumphed.
Every day brought us back to our former ideas: all that
had been dear to our principles and prejudices was renewed;
and yet delicacy and honour rendered it a kind
of duty in us to keep at a distance.
It was in vain that the new government loudly proclaimed
the union of all parties; and equally so that its
chief had declared he would no longer recognise any but
Frenchmen in France; in vain had old friends and former
companions offered me the advantages of a new career to
be chosen by myself. Unable to subdue the conflicting
feelings which agitated my mind, I obstinately persevered
in a system of self-denial; and, devoting all my
time to literature, I composed under a feigned name, an
historical work that re-established my fortune; after
which I passed five or six of the happiest years of my
life.
Meanwhile, unprecedented events succeeded each
other with extraordinary rapidity: they were of such a
nature, and bore so peculiar a character, that it became
impossible for any person whose heart possessed the
least predilection for whatever was great or noble to
view them with indifference. The glory of our country
was raised to a pitch unknown in the history of any
other people: the administration of affairs was unexampled,
not less by its energy than the consequences
it produced; a simultaneous impulse, which was suddenly
given to every species of industry, excited the
emulation of all at the same moment; the army was
unrivalled, striking terror abroad and creating a just
pride at home.
Every day added to the number of our trophies, while
numerous monuments proclaimed our exploits; the victories
of Austerlitz, Jena, and Friedland; the treaties of
Presburg and Tilsit had constituted France the first of
nations, and made her the arbitress of Europe. It was
a signal honour to be a Frenchman; and yet all these
exploits, labours and prodigies, were the work of one
8man. For my own part, whatever might have been my
former prepossessions and prejudices, I was now filled
with admiration; and, as we all know, there is but one
step from admiration to affection. It was precisely at
this period that the Emperor called some of the first
families of France round his throne, and caused it to be
circulated, amongst the rest, that he would consider
those who remained aloof as bad Frenchmen. I did not
hesitate for an instant: I have, said I to myself, fulfilled
the obligations of my natural oath, that of my birth and
education, to which I have continued faithful until its
extinction. Our princes too were no longer thought
of: we even doubted their existence. The solemnities
of religion, the alliance of kings, the example of Europe,
and the splendour of France, henceforth taught me that
I had a new sovereign. Had those who preceded us
made so long a resistance to such powerful efforts, before
rallying round the first of the Capets? I answered
therefore, for myself, that, happy in being thus enabled
to obey a call which removed me with honour from the
delicate situation in which I was placed, I freely, spontaneously,
and without reserve, transferred the zeal,
loyalty, and attachment which I had constantly cherished
for my old masters, to the new sovereign: the result
of this step was my immediate admission at court.
In this state of things, I felt extremely anxious that
my recent protestations should be ratified by deeds. The
English had invaded Flushing, and threatened Antwerp;
I therefore hastened to assist in the defence of the latter
place, as a volunteer; and, on the subsequent evacuation
of Flushing, my nomination to the office of chamberlain
called me near the person of the Emperor. Being
desirous of adding some more useful occupation to the
duties of this honourable post, I solicited and obtained
a seat in the Council of State. Hence followed several
confidential missions: I was sent to Holland at the
period of its union to the French Empire, in order to
receive whatever related to the naval department; then
to Illyria, for the purpose of liquidating the public debt;
and afterwards over half the Empire, to superintend establishments
of public beneficence. During our late
9misfortunes, I received some consoling proofs that the
inhabitants of the countries to which I had thus been
sent were not dissatisfied with my conduct.
Providence had however fixed a limit to our prosperity.
The catastrophe of Moscow, the disasters of Leipsic, and
the siege of Paris, are well known. I commanded in
that city one of the legions which acquired honour by
its severe losses on the 31st of March. When the capitulation
took place I gave up the command, feeling that
other duties were to be performed near the person of my
sovereign, but could not reach Fontainebleau in time:—the
Emperor had abdicated, and was succeeded by the
King.
My situation now became more singular than it had
been twelve years before. The cause for which I had
sacrificed my fortune, for which I remained so long in
exile, and six years in a state of self-denial at home, was
at length triumphant; nevertheless, the point of honour
and other considerations were about to prevent my
reaping any benefit from the event! What could be
more capricious than my fate? Two revolutions had
been effected in opposition to each other:—by the first I
lost my patrimony; by the second I might have been
deprived of life: neither the one nor the other had been
favourable to my fortune. Vulgar minds will only perceive
an unfortunate tergiversation of opinions in this
wayward destiny, while the lovers of intrigue will assert
that I was twice a dupe: only the few will understand
that I have twice honourably fulfilled my duty. Be this
as it may, those early friends, whose esteem was not
lessened by the line of conduct I had pursued, having
now become all powerful, invited me to join them: it
was impossible to obey the generous call; disgusted and
disheartened, I resolved that my public life should terminate.
Ought I to have exposed myself to the false
judgment of those who were watching my proceedings?
Could every body see what was passing in my mind?
Having now become a Frenchman even to enthusiasm,
and unable to endure that national degradation of which
I was a daily witness amidst foreign bayonets, I determined
to endeavour to divert my thoughts at a distance
10from the scene of calamity, and went to pass a few
months in England. How altered did every thing appear
there! On reflection, I found that it was myself
who had undergone a great change.
I had scarcely returned, when Napoleon appeared on
our coasts: he was transported to the capital as it were
by magic, and this without battles, excesses, or effusion
of blood. I thought I saw the stain brought on us by
foreign hands effaced, and all our glory restored. Destiny
had ordered otherwise!
No sooner did I hear of the Emperor’s arrival, than I
spontaneously repaired to attend on his person. I was
present at the moment of abdication; and, when the
question of his removal was agitated, I requested permission
to participate in his fate. Such had been till
then the disinterestedness and simplicity, some will say
folly, of my conduct, that, notwithstanding my daily intercourse
as an officer of the household and member of
his council, Napoleon scarcely knew me. “Do you
know whither your offer may lead you?” said he, in his
astonishment. “I have made no calculation about it,” I replied.it,” I replied.
He accepted me, and I am at St. Helena.
I have now made myself known; the reader has my
credentials in his hands: a host of contemporaries are
living—it will be seen whether a single individual
amongst them stands up to invalidate them: I therefore
begin my task.
Tuesday, June 20th, 1815.—Heard of the Emperor’s
return to the Elysée Palace: placed myself in immediate
attendance there. Found Messrs. Montalambert and
Montholon there, brought by the same sentiment.
Napoleon had just lost a great battle; so that the
safety of the nation thenceforth depended on the wisdom
and zeal of the Chamber of Representatives. The
Emperor, still covered with dust from the field of Waterloo,
was on the point of hurrying into the midst of them,
there to declare our dangers and resources, and to engage
that his personal interests should never be a barrier to
11the happiness of France; after which he intended to quit
Paris immediately. It is said that several persons dissuaded
him from this step, by leading him to apprehend
an approaching ferment amongst the deputies.
It is as yet impossible to comprehend every report that
circulates with regard to this fatal battle: some say there
is manifest treason; others, a fatality without example.
Thirty thousand men under Grouchy lost their way and
were too late, taking no part in the engagement; the
army, victorious till the evening, was, it is said, suddenly
seized with a panic towards eight o’clock, and became
broken in an instant. It is another Crecy, another
Azincourt,———![1] every one trembles and thinks all
is lost!
21st.—The best intentioned and most influential members
of the national representation have been tampered
with all last evening and all night, by certain persons,
who, if their word is to be taken, produce authentic documents
and demi-official papers guaranteeing the safety of
France, on condition of the mere abdication of the Emperor,
as they pretend.
The above opinion had become so strong this morning
that it seemed irresistible: the president of the assembly,
the first men in the state, and the Emperor’s particular
12friends, come to supplicate him to save France by abdicating.
Though by no means convinced, yet the Emperor
answers with magnanimity:—he abdicates!
This circumstance causes the greatest bustle round the
Elysée; the multitude rushes towards the gate, and
testifies the deepest interest; numbers penetrate within
the hall, while some even of the popular class scale the
walls; some in tears, others in a state approaching to
distraction, crowd up to the Emperor, who is walking
tranquilly in the garden, and make offers of every description.
Napoleon alone is calm, constantly replying that
they ought in future to employ this zeal and tenderness
for the good of their country.
I presented the deputation of Representatives, in the
course of the day: it came to thank the Emperor for his
devotedness to the national interests.
The documents and state-papers, which have produced
such a powerful sensation, and brought about the grand
event of this day, are said to be official communications
of Messrs. Fouché and Metternich, in which the latter
guarantees Napoleon II. and the regency, in case of the
abdication of the Emperor. These communications
must have been long carried on unknown to Napoleon.
M. Fouché must have a furious partiality for clandestine
operations. It is well known that his first disgrace,
which took place several years ago, arose from his having
opened some negotiations with England of his own accord,
without the Emperor’s knowledge: he has in fact
always shewn the greatest obliquity in affairs of moment.
God grant that his present mysterious acts do not prove
fatal to our country!
22nd.—Went home to pass a few hours at my own
house: in the course of this day the deputation of the
Peers was presented: a portion of the Provisional Government
was named in the evening. Caulaincourt and
Fouché, who were of the number, happened to be with
us in the ante-chamber: we complimented the first on
his nomination, which was, indeed, only congratulating
13ourselves on the public good: his reply was full of
alarm. “We applaud the choice hitherto known,” said
we. “It is certain,” observed Fouché, with an air of
levity, “that I am not suspected.”—“If you had been,“
rudely rejoined the deputy Boulay de la Meurthe, who
was also present, “be assured we should not have
named you.”
23rd—The acclamations and interest without
continued at the Elysée. I presented the members of
the Provisional Government to the Emperor, who, in
dismissing them, directed the Duke Decrés to see them
out. The Emperor’s brothers, Joseph, Lucien, and
Jerome, were introduced frequently through the day,
and conversed with him for some time.
As usual, there was a great multitude of people collected
round the palace in the evening: their numbers
were constantly increasing. Their acclamations and
the interest shewn for the Emperor created considerable
uneasiness amongst the different factions. The fermentation
of the capital now became so great that Napoleon
determined to depart on the following day.
25th.—I accompanied the Emperor to Malmaison,
and again requested permission to follow his future fortunes.
My proposal seemed to create astonishment, for
I was still only known to him by my employments; but
he accepted the offer.
26th.—My wife came to see me; she had divined my
intentions: it became a somewhat delicate task to avow
them, and still more difficult to convince her of their
propriety. “My dear,” said I, “in following the
dutiful dictates of my heart, it is consoling to reflect
that your interests are not thereby prejudiced. If Napoleon
II. is to govern us, I leave you strong claims on
his protection; should Heaven order it differently, I shall
have secured you a glorious asylum, a name honoured
with some esteem. At all events we shall meet again,
14at least in a better world.” After tears and even reproaches,
which could not but be gratifying, she consented
to my departure, exacting a promise however,
that I would allow her to join me without loss of time.
From this moment she manifested a courage and strength
of mind that would have animated myself in case of
necessity.
27th.—I went to Paris for a short time with the
minister of Marine, who came to Malmaison, on business
respecting the frigates destined for the Emperor.
He read me the instructions drawn out for the commanders,
said his Majesty depended on my zeal, and
intended taking me with him; adding, that he would
take care of my family during my absence.
Napoleon II. is proclaimed by the Legislature.
Sent for my son from his school, having determined
that he should accompany me. We prepared a small
parcel of clothes and linen, then proceeded to Malmaison,
accompanied by my wife, who returned immediately.
The road had now become rather unsafe, owing to the
approach of the enemy.
28th.—Being desirous of making some other arrangements
before our departure, the Duchess de Rovigo took
me and my son to Paris in her carriage. I found Messrs.
de Vertillac and de Quitry at my house; these were the
last friends I embraced: they were terrified. The agitation
and uncertainty hourly increased in the capital,
for the enemy was at the gates. On reaching Malmaison,
we saw the bridge of Chatou in flames: guards
were posted round the palace, and it became prudent to
remain within the park walls. I went into the Emperor’s
room, and described how Paris had appeared to
me; stating the general opinion that Fouché openly
betrayed the National cause; and that the hopes of all
patriots were that his Majesty would this very night
join the army who loudly called for him. The Emperor
listened to me with an air of deep thought, but made no
reply, and I withdrew soon after.
15
29th-30th.—A cry of Long live the Emperor! was
continually heard on the great road to Saint Germain;
it proceeded from the troops who passed under the
walls of Malmaison.
Towards noon. General Becker came from Paris,
sent by the Provisional government; he told us, with
feelings of indignation, that he had received a commission
to guard and watch Napoleon.[3]
16A sentiment the most base had dictated this choice:
Fouché knew that General Becker had a private pique
17against the Emperor, and therefore did not doubt of
finding in the former a man disposed to vengeance;
but he was grossly deceived in his expectations, for
Becker constantly shewed a degree of respect and attachment
to the Emperor highly honourable to his own
character.
Meanwhile time pressed. When on the point of setting
out, the Emperor sent a message to the Provisional
Government, by General Becker, offering to place himself
at the head of the army, merely as a private citizen,
adding, that, after having repulsed Blucher, he would
continue his route. On the refusal of this offer, we left
Malmaison; the Emperor and a part of his suite taking
the road to Rochefort by Tours; I and my son, with
Messieurs Montholon, Planat, and Résigny, proceeded
towards Orleans, as did also two or three other carriages.
We reached this place early on the 30th, and got to
Chatellerault at midnight.
18July 1st–2nd. We passed through Limoges on the
1st, at four in the afternoon; dined at Rochefoucault on
the 2nd, and reached Jarnac about seven. We slept
here, owing to the obstinacy of the postmaster, which
forced us to remain till next day.
3rd.—We could not set out before five o’clock. On
account of the misconduct of the postmaster, who, not
content with detaining us all night, had recourse to secret
means for keeping us still longer, we were obliged
to proceed at a slow pace to Cognac, where the postmaster
and inhabitants received us very differently. It
was easy to perceive that our journey occasioned a great
deal of agitation amongst all parties. On reaching
Saintes, towards eleven o’clock, we nearly fell victims to
the fury of some miscreants, collected by an officer of the
royal guard, a native of that place. This person had
prepared an ambuscade for us, and had even laid a plan
for our assassination. We were arrested by the mob,
but a part of the national guard interfered, and conducted
us as prisoners to an adjoining inn. It was said that
we were carrying off the treasures of the State, and
therefore merited death. Some of them, who pretended
to be the most distinguished inhabitants, and above all,
the women, were the most outrageous, and called for
our immediate execution.
We saw these females pass in succession before some
windows that were open near our temporary prison, in
order that their insults should not be lost upon us. It
will scarcely be credited that they went so far as to gnash
their teeth in sign of hatred, and from vexation at seeing
the indifference we displayed; yet they formed the
fashionable circle of Saintes! Could Real be in the right,
when he told the Emperor, during the hundred days,
that as for Jacobins, he had reason to know something of
them; protesting that the only difference between the
blacks and whites was that the former wore wooden
shoes and the latter silk stockings?
Prince Joseph, who was passing through Saintes unknown
to us, came to increase the interest of our adventure.
He was also arrested, and conducted to the prefecture;
but highly respected.
19The windows of the inn faced a large square, which
continued to be filled with an agitated and hostile rabble,
who were extremely violent and abusive. I found an
old acquaintance in the under-prefect, who was thus enabled
to state who we were. The carriage in which we
travelled was next examined; while we were ourselves
retained in a species of solitary confinement. I obtained
leave, however, to visit the Prince about four o’clock.
While on my way to the prefecture, and though
guarded by a non-commissioned officer, several individuals
addressed me: some put notes secretly into my
hands; others whispered something friendly; while all
united in assuring me we might feel perfectly tranquil,
for the patriots and well-intentioned inhabitants would
protect us.
Towards the evening we were allowed to depart; and
by this time things had so totally changed that we left
the inn amidst the most lively acclamations: females of
the lower classes, in tears, kissed our hands: many persons
offered to accompany us, that we might avoid the
enemies of the Emperor, who, they said, lay in wait to
murder us, at a short distance from the town. This singular
transition arose in some degree from the arrival of
numbers of country people and federates, who gave an
immediate turn to public opinion.
4th.—On approaching Rochefort we met a party of
gendarmerie, who, on the report of our reception at
Saintes, had been dispatched to meet us. We arrived
at this place about two o’clock in the morning: the
Emperor had reached it on the preceding evening.[4]
Prince Joseph arrived in the afternoon; when I conducted
him to the Emperor.
I profited by the first moment of leisure to inform the
President of the Council of State why I absented myself.
“Rapid and important events,” said I “obliged me to
quit Paris without the necessary leave of absence. The
20peculiarity and importance of the case led to this irregularity:
being in attendance on the Emperor at the moment
of his departure, it was impossible to see the great
man, who had governed us with so much splendour, and
who had banished himself to facilitate the tranquillity of
France, of whose power nothing now remains but its
glory and name;—I repeat, that I could not allow him
to depart without yielding to the desire of following his
steps. During the days of his prosperity he condescended
to bestow some favours on me; I now owe him
all that I can offer, whether of sentiment or of action.”
5th-7th. At Rochefort, the Emperor laid aside his
military dress. He lived at the prefecture; numbers
were constantly grouped round the house; and acclamations
continued to be frequently repeated. The Emperor
appeared two or three times at the balcony. Numerous
proposals were made to him, both by generals who came
in person, and others who sent emissaries.
During our stay here the Emperor has led the same
sort of life as if at the Tuileries: we do not approach his
person more frequently: he scarcely receives any persons
but Bertrand and Savary; so that we are reduced to reports
and conjectures as to all that concerns him. It is,
however, evident that, in the midst of this state of agitation,
he continues calm and resolute, even to indifference,
without manifesting the least anxiety.
A lieutenant of our navy, who commands a Danish
merchant-ship, has generously offered to save the Emperor.
He proposes to take him on board alone; engages
to conceal his person in such a way that it will
escape the severest scrutiny; and, moreover, will immediately
set sail for the United States. He demands but
a small sum by way of indemnifying his owners for any
loss they may sustain through his enterprize. Bertrand
agrees, under certain conditions, which he has drawn out
in my name. I have signed this fictitious bargain in
presence and under the eyes of the maritime prefect.
8th.—The Emperor proceeded to Fourras in the evening,
followed by the acclamations of the people wherever
21he passed. He slept on board the Saal,[5] which he reached
about eight o’clock. I did not arrive till a much later
hour, having had to accompany Madame Bertrand in
another boat, and from a different point.
9th.—I attended the Emperor, who disembarked at
an early hour in the Isle of Aix: he visited all the fortifications,
and returned on board to breakfast.
10th.—I was dispatched towards the British cruisers,
with the Duke de Rovigo, early in the morning, to know
whether they had received the passes, which had been
promised to us by the Provisional Government, to proceed
to the United States. The answer was, that they
had not; but that the matter should be instantly referred
to the Commander-in-chief. Having stated the supposition
of the Emperor’s setting sail with the frigates under
flags of truce; it was replied, that they would be attacked.
We then spoke of his passage in a neutral ship;
and were told, in reply, that all neutrals would be strictly
examined, and, perhaps, even carried into an English
port; but we were recommended to proceed to England;
and it was asserted that in that country we should have
no ill usage to fear. We returned at two in the afternoon.
The Bellerophon, having followed, soon after anchored
in Basque Roads, in order to be nearer to us; so that
the ships of both nations were now in view of, and very
near, each other.
On reaching the Bellerophon, the captain addressed
us in French: I was not eager to inform him that I
knew something of his own language. Some expressions
which passed between him and his officers might
have injured the negotiation, had I seemed to understand
them. When, a short time after, it was asked, whether
we understood English, I allowed the Duke of Rovigo
to reply in the negative. Our situation was quite sufficient
to remove any scruples I might have otherwise
entertained, and rendered this little deception very pardonable.
I only mention this circumstance, because, as
I remained a fortnight amongst these people, I was
22compelled to impose a tiresome restraint upon myself,
to avoid disclosing what I had concealed in the first
instance. In fact, though I could read the language
with facility, yet, owing to an absence of thirteen years
and consequent want of practice, it was with considerable
difficulty I understood English when spoken.
11th.—All the outlets being blockaded by English
ships of war, the Emperor seemed extremely uncertain
as to what plan he should pursue. Neutral vessels,
and chasse-marées,[6] manned by young naval officers,
were suggested for his conveyance; propositions also
continued to be made from the interior.
12th.—The Emperor disembarked at the Isle of Aix,
amidst cries of exultation on every side. He quitted
the frigates in consequence of the Commandant’s having
refused to sail; whether from weakness of character, or
owing to his having received fresh orders from the Provisional
Government, is not known. Many were of
opinion that the attempt might be made with some probability
of success; but it must be allowed that the
winds still continued unfavourable.
13th.—Prince Joseph visited his brother in the course
of the day. Towards eleven at night the Emperor was
on the point of embarking in one of the chasse marées;
two sailed, having on board a great part of his luggage
and several of his attendants. M. de Planat was in one
of them.
14th.—I returned to the Bellerophon at four in the
morning, accompanied by General Lallemand, to ascertain
whether any answer had been received. The Captain
told us he expected it every moment; adding, that
if the Emperor would embark immediately for England,
he had instructions to convey him thither. He farther
declared it as his private opinion, and several captains
who were present expressed themselves to the same effect,
that there was not the least doubt of Napoleon’s
meeting with all possible respect and good treatment:
that there, neither the king nor his ministers exercised
the same arbitrary authority as those of the Continent:
23that the English people possessed a generosity of sentiment,
and liberality of opinion, superior to sovereignty
itself. I replied that I would return and communicate
the Captain’s offer to the Emperor, as well as the whole
of his conversation. I added that I thought I had a
sufficient knowledge of the Emperor Napoleon’s character
to induce a belief that he would not feel much hesitation
in proceeding to England thus confidentially, so
as to be able to continue his voyage to the United States.
I described all France, south of the Loire, as being in a
blaze, and the hopes of the people as constantly turning
towards Napoleon, as long as he was present; stated
the propositions hourly made to him from various directions;
his determination not to become either the
cause or pretext of a civil war; the generosity shewn by
him in abdicating, merely to render the conclusion of a
peace more easy; and the firm resolution he had taken
to banish himself, in order to make it more prompt and
complete.
General Lallemand, who, from having been condemned
to death, was interested on his own account in
the determination that might be made, asked Captain
Maitland, whom he formerly knew in Egypt, and whose
prisoner I think he had been, if persons implicated in the
civil dissensions of his country, like himself, and going
thus voluntarily to England, had any reason to fear being
ever delivered up to France? The Captain replied that
they had not: repelling the doubt as an insult. Previously
to our separating, the conference was summed up,
by my repeating that it was possible, from the state of
affairs, and his own intentions, that the Emperor would
avail himself of Captain Maitland’s offer, so as to get
safe-conducts for America. The latter begged it to be
understood that he would not guarantee the permission
we demanded being granted; upon which we departed.
To say the truth, I did not myself think it would be
given; but the Emperor, wishing to lead a life of tranquillity
in future, had resolved to be a stranger to political
concerns; we therefore considered the probability of
not being allowed to leave England, without much uneasiness;
but our fears and conjectures went no farther.
24It is very likely that Captain Maitland was of the same
opinion: at all events, I will do him, as well as the
other officers, the justice to believe they were honest
and sincere in the account they gave us of the sentiments
of the people of England.
We reached the island at eleven o’clock; meanwhile
the storm approached, and time became precious: it was
necessary to decide one way or another. The Emperor
having assembled us in a sort of council, all the chances
of escape were discussed: that of the Danish vessel
seemed impracticable, and the chasse-marées were no
longer thought of; the English cruisers were not to be
forced; so that there seemed only two alternatives—either
to renew the war, or to accept the offers of Captain
Maitland: the latter was chosen. On reaching the
Bellerophon, we said, we shall be at once on British
ground; the English will then find themselves bound
by the ties of hospitality, which are held sacred amongst
the most barbarous nations; we shall also be under the
civil rights and privileges of the country. The people of
England will not be so insensible to their glory as not
to seize so fortunate a circumstance with avidity: upon
this, Napoleon wrote the following letter to the Prince
Regent.
“Royal Highness—Exposed to the factions which
divide my country, and to the hostility of the greatest
powers of Europe, I have closed my political career. I
come, like Themistocles, to seek the hospitality of the
British nation. I place myself under the protection of
their laws, which I claim from your Royal Highness, as
the most powerful, the most constant, and the most
generous, of my enemies.
(Signed) “Napoleon.”
I set out about four o’clock, with my son and General
Gourgaud, to go on board the Bellerophon, whence I
was not again to return. My mission was to announce
that his Majesty would come on the following morning;
and, moreover, to deliver the letter above quoted to Captain
Maitland. General Gourgaud was commissioned to
25carry the Emperor’s letter to the Prince Regent immediately,
and to present it in person. Captain Maitland
read Napoleon’s letter, which he greatly admired. Two
other captains were permitted to take copies of it, to be
kept secret till the letter should be made public; after
which no time was lost in despatching Gourgaud in the
Slaney, a sloop of war, forming part of the squadron.
Soon after the Slaney had parted company with the
Bellerophon, and while I was seated in the captain’s cabin
of the latter with my son, Captain Maitland, who had
gone to issue some orders, suddenly entered, and with a
countenance expressive of deep concern, exclaimed,
“Count Las Cases, I am deceived when I treat with you.
The consequence of detaching one of my ships is, as I
have just heard, that Napoleon has escaped. Should this
be the case, it will place me in a dreadful situation with
my Government.” These words startled me; I would
have given the world had they been true. The Emperor
had made no engagement; I was perfectly sincere; and
would, therefore, most willingly have become the victim
of an event of which I was quite innocent. I asked
Captain Maitland, with the utmost coolness, at what
hour the Emperor was said to have set out. He had
been so astonished that he had not given himself time
to inquire; but went out again to ascertain this point;
and on returning, said, “At twelve o’clock.” If that be
the case, I replied, the Slaney’s departure can do no
harm, as you have only just sent her away; but do not
be uneasy, for I left the Emperor in the Isle of Aix at
four o’clock. “Do you assure me of that?” said he.
On my repeating the assertion, he turned to some officers
who were with him, and observed, in English, that the
intelligence must be false, as I was too calm, and seemed
to be sincere; and that I had, besides, pledged my word
on the subject.
The English cruisers had numerous sources of information
on our coast: I was subsequently enabled to
ascertain that they were minutely informed of all our
proceedings.[7]
26Nothing was now thought of but preparing for the
next day. Captain Maitland having asked whether I
wished his boats to be sent for the Emperor, I replied,
that the separation was too painful for the French seamen,
not to let them have the satisfaction of attending
him to the last moment.
15th.—At daylight, one of our brigs, the Epervier,
was seen under weigh, and coming towards the Bellerophon,
having a flag of truce flying. Both wind and tide
being contrary, Captain Maitland sent his barge to meet
her. Seeing the boat return, the Captain was extremely
anxious to discover, with his spy-glass, whether the
Emperor was on board; he frequently begged that I
would look myself, but I could not as yet reply with
certainty: at length the matter was placed beyond farther
doubt, as the Emperor came alongside surrounded
by all his attendants. I stood at the gangway to present
Captain Maitland, to whom he said, “I come on
board your ship, to place myself under the protection of
the laws of England.”—The Captain then led him into
his cabin, of which the Emperor was immediately put in
possession. All the officers of the Bellerophon were
presented to him soon after; this ceremony over, he
came out of the cabin, and visited every part of the ship
during the morning. I related the alarm felt by Captain
27Maitland the preceding evening, relative to his
escape; the Emperor did not see the matter in the light
in which it had appeared to me—“What had he to
fear?” he asked, in an emphatic and dignified manner—“were
not you in his power?“
NAPOLEON ON BOARD THE BELLEROPHON.
London: Published for Henry Colburn, March, 1836.
Towards three o’clock, the Superb, a seventy-four gun
ship, bearing the flag of Rear-Admiral Hotham, the
Commander on the station, anchored close to the Bellerophon.
The Admiral came to visit the Emperor, and
remained to dinner. From the questions asked by Napoleon
relative to his ship, he expressed a wish to know
whether his Majesty would condescend to go on board
the following day; upon which the Emperor said he
had no objection, and would therefore breakfast with
the Admiral accompanied by all his attendants.
16th.—Attended the Emperor on board the Superb:
all the honours, except those of firing cannon, were liberally
paid; we went round the ship, and examined the
most trifling objects; every thing seemed to be in admirable
order. Admiral Hotham evinced, throughout, all
the refinement and grace of a man of rank and education.
On our return to the Bellerophon, she got under
weigh, and made sail for England: this event took place
twelve days after our departure from Paris. It was
almost a calm.
On our leaving the Bellerophon in the morning to
visit the Superb, the Emperor stopped short in front of
the guard drawn up on the quarter-deck to salute him.
He made them perform several movements, giving the
word of command himself; having desired them to
charge bayonets, and perceiving that this motion was
not performed altogether in the French manner, he advanced
into the midst of the soldiers, put the weapons
aside with his hands, and seized a musquet from one of
the rear rank, with which he went through the exercise
himself, according to our method. A sudden movement
and change of countenance amongst the officers and
others who were present, sufficiently expressed their
astonishment at seeing the Emperor thus carelessly place
himself amidst English bayonets, some of which came in
contact with his person. This circumstance produced a
28most striking effect. On returning from the Superb,
we were indirectly questioned on the subject, and asked
whether the Emperor ever acted in the same way with
his own soldiers; while the greatest surprise was expressed
at his confidence. Not one amongst the officers
had formed any idea of sovereigns who could thus explain
and execute their own commands; it was therefore
easy to perceive that they had no just conception of the
personage now before them, notwithstanding his having
been so marked an object of attention and curiosity for
above twenty years.
17th-18th. Though nearly a calm, we lost sight of
land.
19th.—The wind being very strong, though not favourable,
we proceeded at the rate of nine miles an
hour.
20th-22d. We continued our course, with winds
that were by no means favourable.
The Emperor had not been long amongst his most inveterate
enemies, those who had been continually fed with
rumours no less absurd than irritating, before he acquired
all the influence over them which belongs to
glory. The captain, officers, and crew, soon adopted the
etiquette of his suite, shewing him exactly the same attention
and respect; the Captain addressed him either as
Sire or your Majesty; when he appeared on deck, every
one took off his hat, and remained uncovered while he
was present—this was not the case at first. There was
no entering his cabin, except by passing the attendants:
no persons but those who were invited appeared at his
table. Napoleon was, in fact, an Emperor, on board the
Bellerophon. He often appeared on deck, conversing
either with some of his suite or the officers of the ship.
Of all those who had accompanied the Emperor, I
was perhaps the person of whom he knew the least; it
has already been seen that, notwithstanding my employments
near his person, I had enjoyed but little immediate
intercourse with Napoleon; since our leaving Paris he
had scarcely spoken to me, but I was now addressed very
frequently.
The occasion and circumstances were highly favourable
29to me: I was sufficiently acquainted with the English
language to be able to give various explanations as to
what was passing around us. I had been in the navy,
and could afford the Emperor any information he required
relative to the manœuvres of the ship, and state of
the weather. I had been ten years in England, and had
formed definite notions of the laws, manners, and customs
of the people; which enabled me to reply to the
Emperor’s questions with facility. My Historical Atlas,
too, had stored my mind with a number of facts, dates,
and coincidences, upon which he always found me prepared
to answer.
A part of my time was occupied in drawing up the
following summary of our situation at Rochefort, and
the ideas which had influenced the determination of the
Emperor. Hence I had precise and authentic data to
judge from.
The English squadron was not strong: there were two
sloops of war off Bordeaux, they blockaded a French
corvette, and gave chace to American vessels which sailed
daily in great numbers. At the Isle of Aix we had
two frigates well armed; the Vulcan corvette, one of the
largest vessels of its class, and a large brig, lay in the
roads: the whole of this force was blockaded by an English
seventy-four of the smallest class, and an indifferent
sloop or two. There is not the least doubt that by
risking the sacrifice of one or two of our ships, we should
have passed, but the senior captain was deficient in
resolution, and refused to sail; the second in command
was quite determined, and would have made the attempt:
the former had probably received secret instructions
from Fouché, who already openly betrayed the Emperor,
and wanted to give him up. However that may be, there
was nothing to be done by sea. The Emperor then
landed at the Isle of Aix.
“Had the mission been confided to Admiral Verhuel,”
said Napoleon, “as was promised on our departure
from Paris, it is probable that he would have sailed.”
The officers and crews of both frigates were full of
30attachment and enthusiasm. The garrison of Aix was
composed of fifteen hundred seamen, forming a very fine
regiment; the officers were so indignant at the frigate
not sailing, that they proposed to fit out two chasse-marées
of fifteen tons’ each: the midshipmen wished to
navigate them; but, when on the point of putting this
plan into execution, it was said there would be great
difficulty in gaining the American coast without touching
at some point of Spain or Portugal.
Under these circumstances the Emperor composed a
species of council, from amongst the persons of his suite:
here it was represented that we could no longer calculate
on the frigates or other armed vessels; that the chasse-marées
held out no probable chance of success, and
could only lead to capture by the English cruisers in the
open sea, or to falling into the hands of the allies: only
two alternatives remained; to proceed towards the
interior, once more to try the fate of arms; or to seek
an asylum in England. To follow up the first, there
were fifteen hundred seamen, full of zeal and willing to
act: the commandant of the Island was an old officer of
the army of Egypt, entirely devoted to Napoleon: the
Emperor would have proceeded at the head of these to
Rochefort, where the corps would have been increased
by the garrison, which was also extremely well disposed:
the garrison of La Rochelle, composed of four battalions
of federated troops, had offered their services: with
these we might then have joined General Clausel, so
firmly fixed at the head of the army at Bordeaux, or
General Lamarque, who had performed prodigies, with
that of La Vendée; both these officers expected and
wished to see Napoleon: it would have been very easy
to maintain a civil war in the interior. But Paris was
taken, and the Chambers had been dissolved; there
were, besides, from five to six hundred thousand of the
enemy’s troops in France: a civil war could therefore
have no other result than leading to the destruction of
all these generous men who were attached to Napoleon.
This loss would have been severe and irreparable: it
would have destroyed the future resources of the nation,
without producing any other advantage than placing the
31Emperor in a position to treat and obtain stipulations
favourable to his interests. But Napoleon had renounced
sovereignty; he only wanted a tranquil asylum; he
abhorred the thought of seeing all his friends perish to
attain so trifling a result; he was equally averse to become
the pretext for the provinces being ravaged; and
above all, he did not wish to deprive the national party
of its truest supports, which would sooner or later reestablish
the honour and independence of France. Napoleon’s
only wish was to live as a private individual in
future: America was the most proper place, and that of
his choice. But even England, with its positive laws,
might also answer; and it appeared, from the nature of
my first interview with Captain Maitland, that the latter
was empowered to convey the Emperor and suite to
England to be equitably treated. From this moment
we were under the protection of British laws; and the
people of England were too fond of glory to lose an
opportunity which thus presented itself, and that ought
to have formed the proudest page of their history. It
was therefore resolved to surrender to the English cruisers,
as soon as Captain Maitland should positively declare
his orders to receive us. On renewing the negotiation,
he clearly stated that he had the authority of his
Government to receive the Emperor, if he would come
on board the Bellerophon, and to convey him, as well as
his suite, to England. Napoleon went on board, not that
he was constrained to it by events, since he could have
remained in France; but because he wished to live as a
private individual, would no longer meddle with public
affairs, and had determined not to embroil those of
France. He would, most assuredly, not have adopted
this plan had he suspected the unworthy treatment
which was preparing for him, as every body will readily
feel convinced. His letter to the Prince Regent fully
explains his confidence and persuasion on the subject.
Captain Maitland, to whom it was officially communicated
before the Emperor embarked on board his ship,
having made no remarks on the above document, had,
by this circumstance alone, recognized and sanctioned
the sentiments it contained.
3223rd.—Saw Ushant at four in the morning, having
passed it in the night. From the moment of approaching
the Channel, ships of the line and frigates were seen
sailing in various directions. The coast of England was
discovered towards evening.
24th.—We anchored at Torbay about eight in the
morning; the Emperor had risen at six, and went on
the poop, whence he surveyed the coast and anchorage.
I remained by his side to give the explanations which he
required.
Captain Maitland immediately despatched a messenger
to Lord Keith, the Commander-in-chief at Plymouth.
General Gourgaud rejoined us: he had been obliged to
give up the letter for the Prince Regent; he had not
only been refused permission to land, but prohibited
from all communication. This was a bad omen, and the
first indication of those numberless tribulations which
followed.
No sooner had it transpired that the Emperor was on
board the Bellerophon, than the bay was covered with
vessels and boats full of people. The owner of a beautiful
country-seat in sight of the ship sent his Majesty a
present of various kinds of fruits.
25th.—The concourse of boats and crowds of spectators
continued without intermission. The Emperor saw
them from the cabin windows and occasionally shewed
himself on deck. On returning from the shore, Captain
Maitland handed me a letter from Lady C., enclosing
another from my wife. My surprise was extreme, and
not less than my satisfaction; but the former ceased
when I reflected that the length of the passage had given
the French papers time to transmit an account of what
had occurred to a considerable distance, so that whatever
related to the Emperor and his suite was already
known in England, where we had even been expected
for five or six days before. My wife hastened to address
Lady C. on the subject, and the latter wrote to Captain
Maitland, to whom she enclosed my letters, without
knowing him.
My wife’s letter bespoke feelings of tender affliction;
but that of Lady C., who, from being in London, had
33learned our future destiny, was full of reproaches—“I
was not my own master, thus to dispose of myself;
it was a crime to abandon my wife and children,”
&c. Melancholy result of our modern systems of education,
which tend so little to elevate our minds that we
cannot conceive either the merit or charm of heroic resolutions
and sacrifices! We think that all has been said,
and every plea justified, when the danger of private interests
and domestic enjoyments is put forward,—little
imagining that the first duty towards a wife is to place
her in a situation of honour, and that the richest inheritance
we can leave our children is the example of some
virtues, and a name to which a little true glory is
attached.
26th.—Orders had arrived in the night for the ship
to repair immediately to Plymouth: having sailed at an
early hour, we reached our new destination at four
o’clock in the afternoon, ten days after our departure
from Rochefort, twenty-seven after quitting Paris, and
thirty-five from the Emperor’s abdication. Our horizon
became greatly overcast from this day. Armed boats
were placed round the ship; those whom curiosity had
attracted were driven away, even by firing musquetry at
them. Lord Keith, who was in the bay, did not come
on board. Two frigates made the signal for sailing immediately;
we were told that a courier extraordinary had
brought dispatches for a distant quarter. In the morning,
some of our party were distributed amongst other
vessels. Every visage seemed now to look at us with a
sullen interest; the most sinister reports had reached the
ship; several destinations were mentioned, each more
frightful than the other.
Imprisonment in the Tower of London was the least
terrific, and some spoke of St. Helena. Meanwhile the
two frigates, which had greatly excited my attention,
got under weigh, though the wind was contrary for leaving
the roadstead, stood towards us, and anchored on
each side, nearly touching the Bellerophon. Upon this,
some person whispered to me that these ships were to
receive us in the course of the night, and to sail for St.
Helena.
34Never can I portray the effect of these terrible words!
A cold sweat overspread my whole frame: it was an unexpected
sentence of death! Unpitying executioners had
seized me: I was torn from all that attached me to life.
I extended my arms sorrowfully towards those who were
dear to me, but in vain; my fate was inevitable! This
thought, together with a crowd of others which arose in
equal disorder, excited a real tempest of the mind. It
was like the struggle of a soul that sought to disengage
itself from its earthly habitation! It turned my hair
grey!——Fortunately the crisis was short, and, as it
happened, the mind came forth triumphant; so much so,
indeed, that from this moment I seemed above the world.
I felt that I could thenceforth defy injustice, ill treatment,
and sufferings. Above all, I vowed that neither
complaints nor solicitations should escape me. But let
not those of my companions, to whom I appeared tranquil
in those fatal circumstances, accuse me of being deficient
in feeling! Their agony was prolonged in detail—mine
operated all at once.
One of those coincidences, not the least extraordinary
of my life, recurred to my thoughts soon after. Twenty
years before, and during my emigration to England,
without possessing any worldly goods, I had refused to
seek a certain fortune in India, because it was too remote,
and I thought myself too old. Now, when twenty years
older, I was about to quit my family, friends, fortune,
and enjoyments, to become a voluntary exile two thousand
miles off, in the midst of the ocean, for nothing.
But no, I am mistaken! the sentiment that now impelled
me was infinitely superior to the riches I then disdained:
I accompanied him who had governed the world,
and will occupy the attention of posterity.
The Emperor continued to appear on deck as usual. I
sometimes saw him in his cabin, but without communicating
what I had heard: I wished to console him, and
not to be his tormentor. The reports had, however,
reached him: but he had come so freely and confidently
on board the Bellerophon; he had been so strongly
invited by the English themselves; he so completely
regarded his letter to the Prince Regent, transmitted
35before-hand to Captain Maitland, as so many tacit conditions;
he had, in fact, acted with such magnanimity
throughout the proceeding, that he repelled with indignation
all the fears which were attempted to be excited
in him, not even permitting those around him to entertain
doubts.
27th—28th. It would be difficult to describe our
torments and anxiety at this moment: most of us were
dumb and inanimate. The least circumstance which
transpired from the shore—an opinion, however unimportant,
expressed on board—an unmeaning paragraph
in a daily paper, became the subjects of our most serious
arguments, and the cause of perpetual oscillations between
our hopes and fears. The most trifling reports were
sought with avidity; whoever appeared was urged to
give a favourable version of deceitful anticipations: so
little do the ardour and activity of our national character
contribute to endow us with that stoical resignation, that
imperturbable composure, which can only be acquired
from settled principles and positive doctrines imbibed
from early infancy.
The public papers, particularly those of the ministerial
side, were let loose against us; it was the outcry of the
Ministers preparing the blow they were about to strike.
It would not be easy to form an idea of the horrors,
falsehoods, and imprecations accumulated on our heads;
and there is always a portion communicated to the multitude,
however well disposed it may be, so that the
demeanour of those around us became less easy, while
their politeness became embarrassed and their countenances
more reserved.
Lord Keith, after announcing himself for some time
before, had only just made his appearance. It was evident
that our company was shunned, our conversation
avoided. The papers contained an account of the measures
which were about to be taken; but, as nothing
official had appeared, and there was some contradiction
in the details, we were induced to flatter ourselves as to
the final result: thus remaining in that state of suspense
and uncertainty which is worse than a knowledge of the
most painful truths. Nevertheless, our arrival in England
36had produced a singular sensation: the presence of
the Emperor excited a curiosity bordering on delirium.
It was the papers themselves that informed us of the
circumstance, while they condemned it. All England
seemed to hurry towards Plymouth. A person who had
left London, on hearing of my arrival, was obliged to
stop on the road for want of post-horses and accommodation.
The Sound was covered with an immense
number of boats; for some of which, as we heard, above
fifty pounds had been paid.
The Emperor, to whom I read all the newspapers, did
not betray any decrease of composure either by his conversation
or general habits. It was known that he always
appeared on deck towards five o’clock. A short
time before this hour, all the boats collected alongside
of each other; there were thousands; and so closely
connected that the water could no longer be seen between
them; they looked more like a multitude assembled in a
public square than any thing else. When the Emperor
came out, the noise and gestures of so many people presented
a most striking spectacle: it was, at the same
time, very easy to perceive that nothing hostile was
meant, and that if curiosity had brought them, they felt
interested on going away; we could even see that the
latter sentiment continued to increase;—at first people
merely looked towards the ship, they ended by saluting;
some remained uncovered, and occasionally went so far
as to cheer. Even our symbols began to appear amongst
them. Several persons of both sexes came decorated
with red carnations, but this was only turned to our
detriment in the eyes of the Ministry and its partisans,
so that it rendered our agony more poignant.
It was under these circumstances that the Emperor,
who, notwithstanding his calm demeanor, could not help
being struck by what he heard, dictated a paper to me,
worthy of serving as a model to jurists, discussing and
defending his real political situation; we found means
of conveying it on shore, but I have kept no copy.
29th—30th. A report had circulated, during the
two previous days, that an under-secretary of state
37coming from London to notify the resolutions of the
Ministers with respect to the Emperor, officially. Accordingly
he appeared; it was Sir Charles Bunbury: he
came on board, accompanied by Lord Keith, and delivered
a dispatch ordering the removal of the Emperor
to St. Helena, and limiting the number of persons who
were to accompany Napoleon to three, excluding, however,
the Duke de Rovigo and General Lallemand, comprised
in the list of proscribed.
I was not called before the Emperor. The bearers of
his sentence spoke and understood French; they were
admitted alone. I have since heard that he objected
and protested, with no less energy than logic, against
the violence exercised on his person. “He was the
guest of England,” said he, “and not her prisoner;
he came of his own accord to place himself under the
protection of her laws; the most sacred rights of hospitality
were violated in his person; he would never submit
voluntarily to the outrage with which they threatened
him; violence alone should oblige him to do so, &c.”
The Emperor gave me the ministerial document to
translate for him, of which the following is a copy:
“As it may, perhaps, be convenient for General
Buonaparte to learn, without farther delay, the intentions
of the British Government with regard to him,
your Lordship will communicate the following information:
“It would be inconsistent with our duty towards our
country and the allies of his Majesty, if General Buonaparte
possessed the means of again disturbing the repose
of Europe. It is on this account that it becomes absolutely
necessary he should be restrained in his personal
liberty, so far as this is required by the foregoing important
object.
“The island of St. Helena has been chosen as his
future residence; its climate is healthy, and its local
position will allow of his being treated with more indulgence
than could be admitted in any other spot, owing
38to the indispensable precautions which it would be necessarynecessary
to employ for the security of his person.
“General Buonaparte is allowed to select amongst
those persons who accompanied him to England (with
the exception of Generals Savary and Lallemand) three
officers, who, together with his surgeon, will have permission
to accompany him to St. Helena; these individuals
will not be allowed to quit the island without the
sanction of the British Government.
“Rear-Admiral Sir George Cockburn, who is named
Commander-in-chief at the Cape of Good Hope and
seas adjacent, will convey General Buonaparte and his
suite to St. Helena; and he will receive detailed instructions
relative to the execution of this service.
“Sir G. Cockburn will, most probably, be ready to
sail in a few days; for which reason it is desirable that
General Buonaparte should make choice of the persons
who are to accompany him without delay.”
Although we expected our transportation to St. Helena,
we were deeply affected by its announcement: it
threw us all into a state of consternation. The Emperor
did not, however, fail to appear on deck as usual,
with the same countenance; and, as before, calmly surveyed
the crowds which seemed so eager to see him.
31st.—Our situation had now become truly frightful;
our sufferings beyond every power of description; our
existence was about to cease with regard to Europe,
our country, families, and friends, as well as our enjoyments
and habits. It is true, we were not forced to follow
the Emperor; but our choice was that of martyrs;
the question was a renunciation of faith, or death.
Another circumstance was added, which greatly increased
our torments; this was the exclusion of Generals Savary
and Lallemand, whom it struck with the utmost
terror; they saw nothing but a scaffold before them, and
felt persuaded that the Ministers of England, making no
distinction between the political acts of a revolution,
and crimes committed in a moment of tranquillity,
would give them up to their enemies to be sacrificed. This
39would have been such an outrage on all law, such an
opprobrium for England herself, that one might have
been almost tempted to dare her to it: but it was only
for those who were included in the same proscription to
talk thus. At all events, we did not hesitate to desire
that each of us might be amongst those whom the Emperor
would choose; entertaining but one fear, that of
finding ourselves excluded.
August 1st.—We still continued in the same state. I
received a letter from London, in which it was strongly
urged that I should be extremely wrong, nay that it
would even be a crime to expatriate myself. The person
who thus wrote also addressed Captain Maitland,
begging he would assist by his efforts and counsel to dissuade
me from such a resolution. But I stopped him
short, by observing that, at my age, people generally
acted on reflection.
I read the papers every day to the Emperor. Whether
influenced by generosity, or that opinions began to
be divided, there were two amongst the number that
pleaded our cause with great warmth, compensating in
some measure for the gross falsehoods and scurrilous
abuse with which the others were filled. We gave ourselves
up to the hope that the hatred inspired by an
enemy would be succeeded by the interest which splendid
actions ought naturally to excite; that England
abounded in noble hearts and elevated minds, which
would indubitably become our ardent advocates.
The number of boats increased daily. Napoleon continued
to appear at his usual hour, and the reception
became more and more flattering.
Numbers of every rank and condition had followed
the Emperor; he was still, with regard to most of us,
as if at the Tuileries; the Grand Marshal and Duke de
Rovigo alone saw him habitually. Some had not approached
or spoken to him more frequently than if we
had been at Paris. I was called during the day, whenever
there were any papers or letters to translate, until
the Emperor insensibly contracted the habit of sending
for me every evening towards eight o’clock, to converse
with him a short time.
40In the conversation of this evening, and after touching
on various other subjects, he asked me whether I would
accompany him to St. Helena. I replied with the greatest
frankness, rendered more easy by my real sentiments,
observing to his Majesty that, in quitting Paris, I had
disregarded every chance; and that therefore St. Helena
had nothing which could make it an exception. There
were, however, a great many of us round his person,
while only three were permitted to go out. As some
people considered it a crime in me to leave my family, it
was necessary with regard to the latter, and my own
conscience, to know that I could be useful and agreeable
to him—that, in fact, I required to be chosen; but that
this last observation did not spring from any concealed
motive, for my life was henceforth at his disposal without
any restriction.
While thus engaged, Madame Bertrand, without having
been called, and even without announcing her name,
rushed into the cabin, and in a frantic manner, entreated
the Emperor not to go to St. Helena, nor take her
husband with him. But observing the astonishment,
coolness, and calm answer of Napoleon, she ran out as
precipitately as she had entered. The Emperor, still
surprised, turned to me and said, “Can you comprehend
all this? Is she not mad?” A moment afterwards loud
shrieks were heard, and every body seemed to be running
towards the stern of the ship. Being desired to
ring the bell, and to enquire the cause, I found that
Madame Bertrand, on leaving the cabin, had attempted
to throw herself into the sea, and was prevented with
the greatest difficulty. From this scene it is easy to
judge of our feelings!
2d-3d. In the morning the Duke de Rovigo told
me I was certainly to depart for St. Helena: while in
conversation with the Emperor, a short time before, his
Majesty had said to him that, if there were only two to
accompany him, I should still be one of the number, as he
thought I could afford him some consolation. I am indebted
to the candour and kindness of the Duke for the
41satisfaction of being made acquainted with this flattering
assurance, and am truly grateful, as, but for him, it
would never have been known to me. The Emperor
had not said a word in reply to my answer; this was his
custom, as I shall have other opportunities of shewing.
I had no particular acquaintance with any of those
who had followed the Emperor, excepting General and
and Madame Bertrand, who had shewn me great attentionattention
during my mission to Illyria, where he was Governor-General.
I had until then never spoken to the
Duke de Rovigo, certain prepossessions having induced
me to keep at a distance; we had, however, scarcely exchanged
a few words, when my scruples were completely
removed. Savary was sincerely attached to the Emperor;
I knew he possessed warmth of heart, sincerity, and
uprightness of character, qualities which rendered him
susceptible of real friendship; we should, therefore, I
dare say, have become very intimate.
I was again sent for by the Emperor; who, after
alluding to different subjects, began to speak of St.
Helena, asking me what sort of a place it could be;
whether it was possible to exist there? and similar questions.
“But,” said he, “after all, is it quite certain
that I shall go there? Is a man dependent on others,
when he wishes that his dependence should cease?”—We
continued to walk to and fro in the cabin; he seemed
calm, though affected, and somewhat absent.
“My friend,” continued the Emperor, “I have sometimes
an idea of quitting you, and this would not be
very difficult; it is only necessary to create a little mental
excitement, and I shall soon have escaped.—All will
be over, and you can then quietly rejoin your families.
This is the more easy, since my internal principles do
not oppose any bar to it:—I am one of those who conceive
that the pains of the other world were only imagined
as a counterpoise to those inadequate allurements
which are offered to us there. God can never have
willed such a contradiction to his infinite goodness, especially
for an act of this kind; and what is it after all,
but wishing to return to him a little sooner?”
I remonstrated warmly against such notions. Poets
42and philosophers had said that it was a spectacle worthy
of the Divinity, to see men struggling with fortune: reverses
and constancy had their glory. Such a great and
noble character as his could not descend to the level of
vulgar minds; he who had governed us with so much
glory, who had excited the admiration, and influenced
the destinies, of the world, could not end like a desperate
gamester or a disappointed lover. What would then become
of all those who looked up to and placed their hopes
in him? Would he thus abandon the field to his enemies?
The anxiety shewn by the latter to drive him to
it was surely sufficient to make him resist: who could
tell the secrets of time, or dare assert what the future
would produce? What might not happen from the mere
change of a ministry, the death of a Prince, that of a confidant,
the slightest passion, or the most trifling dispute?
“Some of these suggestions have their weight,” said
the Emperor, “but what can we do in that desolate
place?”—“Sire,” I replied, “we will live on the past:
there is enough in it to satisfy us. Do we not enjoy the
life of Cæsar and that of Alexander? We shall possess
still more, you will re-peruse yourself, Sire!” “Be it
so!” rejoined Napoleon; “we will write our Memoirs.
Yes, we must be employed; for occupation is the scythe
of Time. After all, a man ought to fulfil his destinies;
this is my grand doctrine:[8] letlet mine also be accomplished.”
43Re-assuming from this instant an air of ease
and even gaiety, he passed on to subjects totally unconnected
with our situation.
4th.—Orders had arrived during the night for us to
sail at an early hour; we set sail, which circumstance
puzzled us much. The newspapers, official communications,
and private conversations, told us we were to be
conveyed to St. Helena by the Northumberland: we knew
that this ship was still fitting out at Portsmouth or
Chatham, so that we might still calculate on eight or ten
days’ delay. The Bellerophon was too old for the voyage,
she had not provisions enough; moreover the wind was
contrary; when therefore we saw the ship returning up
Channel, our uncertainty and conjectures were renewed,
but whatever these might be, every thing was welcome
when compared to the idea of transportation to St.
Helena.
Nevertheless, it occurred to us that, in such a decisive
moment, the Emperor was bound to shew a formal opposition
to this violence; as to Napoleon himself, he
attached but little importance to it, nor would he trouble
himself about the matter. However, said we, it will be
a weapon in the hands of our friends, and leave causes
of remembrance as well as grounds of defence with the
public. I ventured, therefore, to read a paper I had
prepared to his Majesty, with the general sense of which
he seemed pleased; after suppressing a few phrases, and
correcting others, it was signed and sent to Lord Keith.
The following is a literal copy of this document.
“I hereby solemnly protest in the face of heaven and
mankind, against the violence that is done me; and the
violation of my most sacred rights, in forcibly disposing
of my person and liberty. I voluntarily came on board
the Bellerophon—I am not the prisoner, I am the guest
of England. I came at the instigation of the Captain
himself, who said he had orders from the Government
44to receive and convey me to England, together with my
suite, if agreeable to me. I came forward with confidence
to place myself under the protection of the laws of
England. When once on board the Bellerophon, I was
entitled to the hospitality of the British people. If the
Government, in giving the Captain of the Bellerophon
orders to receive me and my followers, only wished to
lay a snare, it has forfeited its honour and disgraced its
flag.
“If this act be consummated it will be in vain for the
English henceforth to talk of their sincerity, their laws,
and liberties. British faith will have been lost in the
hospitality of the Bellerophon.
“I appeal to history: it will say that an enemy who
made war for twenty years against the English people
came spontaneously, in the hour of misfortune, to seek
an asylum under their laws. What more striking proof
could he give of his esteem and confidence? But how
did England reply to such an act of magnanimity? It
pretended to hold out a hospitable hand to this enemy;
and, on giving himself up with confidence, he was immolated!
(Signed) “Napoleon.”
Bellerophon at Sea,
Friday, Aug. 4th, 1815.
The Duke de Rovigo told me that the Emperor had
demanded permission to send me to the Prince Regent
at London, but that it was obstinately refused.
The sea was rough, and the wind blew with violence.
Most of us were affected with sea-sickness. But what
cannot the pre-occupation of the mind effect over physical
infirmities! This was perhaps the only time in my
life that I was not incommoded by such weather. On
leaving Plymouth Sound, we stood to the eastward before
the wind, but were soon after close-hauled, tacking
backwards and forwards, without being able to comprehend
the cause of this new source of torment.
5th.—The whole of this day was passed in the same
manner. While conversing with the Emperor in the
45evening he gave me two proofs of confidence, but I cannot
now confide them to paper.[9]
46
6th.—We anchored about noon off Start Point, where
there was no shelter whatever, though we had but a very
short distance to go in order to anchor in Torbay: this
circumstance excited great astonishment on our part.
We had, however, heard that orders were given to meet
the Northumberland, the departure of which vessel from
Portsmouth was urged with all possible haste. Accordingly
that ship soon appeared with two frigates full of
troops, which were to compose the garrison of St. Helena.
These three ships anchored close to us; after
which the communications amongst the whole squadron
became very active. The precautions to prevent the approach
of boats were still continued. Meanwhile the
mystery of our precipitate sailing from Plymouth,
and all the manœuvring that followed, was discovered.
Lord Keith had, we were told, received notice, by telegraph,
that a public officer had just left London with a
writ of habeas corpus, to claim the person of the Emperor
in the name of the laws or of some competent tribunal.
We could neither ascertain the motives nor details of this
circumstance: the Admiral, it was added, had scarcely
time enough to escape this difficulty; we heard that he
was suddenly obliged to go on board a brig, and quit
Plymouth Sound. This was the motive which kept us
out of Torbay.
Admirals Keith and Cockburn came on board the Bellerophon;
the flag of the latter was flying on board the
Northumberland: they had a conference with the Emperor,
to whom they delivered an extract from the instructions
relative to our transportation to and stay at
St. Helena. These stated that all our effects were to
be examined, for the purpose of taking away the money,
bills, and diamonds, belonging to the Emperor, as well
as ourselves, to be kept for us: we also heard that our
arms would be taken from us at the same time, and that
we were then to be transferred to the Northumberland.
The documents were as follow:
47
“All arms of every description are to be taken from
the French, of whatever rank, who are on board his Majesty’s
ship under your command. These arms will be
carefully packed, and are to remain in your charge so
long as the persons to whom they belong continue on
board the Bellerophon. They will then be under the
charge of the captain of the ship to which the said individuals
may be transferred.”
Start Bay, August 6th, 1815.
“When General Buonaparte leaves the Bellerophon
to go on board the Northumberland, it will be the properest
moment for Admiral Cockburn to have the effects
examined which General Buonaparte may have brought
with him. The Admiral will allow the baggage, wines,
(the wines! an observation truly worthy of the English
Ministers,) and provisions which the General may have
brought with him, to be taken on board the Northumberland.
Among the baggage his table-service shall be
understood as included, unless it be so considerable as to
seem rather an article to be converted into ready money
than for real use. His money, his diamonds, and his
saleable effects (consequently bills of exchange also), of
whatever kind they may be, must be delivered up. The
Admiral will declare to the General that the British Government
by no means intends to confiscate his property,
but merely to take upon itself the administration of his
effects, to hinder him from using them as a means to
promote his escape.
“The examination shall be made in the presence of a
person named by General Buonaparte, the inventory of
the effects to be retained shall be signed by this person as
well as by the Rear-admiral, or by the person whom we
shall appoint to draw up the inventory. The interest or the
principal (according as his property is more or less considerable)
shall be applied to his support, and in this
respect the principal arrangement is to be left to him.
For this purpose he can from time to time signify his
48wishes to the Admiral, till the arrival of the new Governor
of St. Helena, and afterwards to the latter; and,
if no objection is made to his proposal, the Admiral or
the Governor can give the necessary orders, and the
disbursement will be paid by bills on his Majesty’s
Treasury. In case of death, (what foresight!) he can
dispose of his property by a last Will, and may be assured
that the contents of his testament shall be faithfully
executed. As an attempt might be made to make
a part of his property pass for the property of the persons
of his suite, it must be signified that the property
of his attendants is subject to the same regulations.
“The Admiral is not to take any person on board for
St. Helena, without the consent of such person, to whom
he is previously to explain the necessity of being subjected
to all the regulations which it may be thought
proper to establish for securing the person of the General.
It must be made known to the General that, if he make
any attempt to escape, he will expose himself to close
imprisonment; and that any of his suite who may be discovered
in endeavouring to facilitate his escape will incur
the same punishment. (Afterwards the Act of Parliament
made the latter offence death.)
“All letters which shall be addressed to him, or to
any of his suite, are to be delivered in the first place to
the Admiral or the Governor, who is to read them previously
to transmitting them: the same regulation is
to be observed with respect to letters written by the
General, or those of his suite.
“The General is to be informed that the Governor
and the Admiral have received positive orders to forward
to his Majesty’s Government any request or representation
he may think proper to make: nothing is left to
their discretion on this point; but the paper on which
such representations shall be written is to remain open,
in order that they may subjoin such observations as
they may think expedient.”
It would not be easy to conceive the intensity and nature
of our feelings at this decisive moment, in which
outrage, violence, and injustice, were accumulated on
our heads.
49Constrained to reduce his suite to three persons, the
Emperor selected the Grand Marshal, M. de Montholon
and myself. Gourgaud, in despair at the idea of being
left behind, entered into a negotiation on the subject, and
succeeded. As the instructions only allowed Napoleon to
take three officers, it was agreed that I should be considered
purely in a civil capacity, and to admit a fourth
by the aid of this interpretation.
7th.—The Emperor addressed to Lord Keith a species
of new protest, against the violence done to his person
in forcibly removing him from the Bellerophon. I took
it on board the Tonnant. Admiral Keith, a fine-looking
old man, of highly polished manners, received me
with great politeness, but he carefully avoided touching
on the subject of the protest, observing that he would
give an answer in writing.
This did not stop me. I stated the situation of Napoleon,
who was very unwell, his legs being much
swelled; and pointed out to his lordship how desirable
it was for the Emperor not to be sent off so suddenly.
He replied that I had been a sailor, and must therefore
see that the anchorage was unsafe, which was certainly
true.
I explained the Emperor’s repugnance to have his
effects searched and tossed about, as proposed; assuring
him that Napoleon would infinitely prefer seeing them
thrown into the sea. The Admiral answered that as
this was a positive order, he must obey it. Finally I
enquired whether it was probable that those appointed
to search would go so far as to deprive the Emperor of
his sword. He said that it would be respected, but
that Napoleon was the only person exempted, as all his
followers would be disarmed. I shewed him that I was
already so: my sword having been taken from me before
I left the Bellerophon. A secretary who was writing
near us, observed to Lord Keith, in English, that the
order stated that Napoleon himself was to be disarmed;
50upon which the Admiral drily replied, also in English, as
well as I could comprehend, “Mind your own business,
Sir, and leave us to ours.”
Still continuing the conversation, I went over all that
had occurred from the commencement. I had been the
negotiator, I said, and ought therefore to feel most
acutely; and had the greater right to be heard. Lord
Keith listened to me with marked impatience; we were
standing, and his frequent bows were evidently intended
to make me retire. When I told him that Captain
Maitland said he had been authorised to bring us to
England, without exciting a suspicion in our minds that
we were to be prisoners of war; that the Captain could
not deny that we came on board voluntarily and in confidence;
that the letter of the Emperor to the Prince of
Wales, which I had previously communicated to Captain
Maitland, must necessarily have created tacit conditions,
since he made no remarks on it: at length the Admiral’s
ill-humour and even anger broke forth, and he
replied sharply, that if such were the case, Captain
Maitland must have been a fool, for his instructions
contained nothing of the kind; and he was quite sure of
this, for it was from himself they had emanated. “But,
my Lord,” said I, “permit me to observe, in defence of
Captain Maitland, that your Lordship speaks with a degree
of severity for which you may become responsible;
for not only Captain Maitland, but Admiral Hotham and
all the other officers whom we saw at the time, conducted
and expressed themselves in the same way towards us;
would it have been thus, if their instructions had been
so clear and positive?” Saying this, I relieved the Admiral
of my presence: he made no attempt to prolong a
subject which, perhaps, his Lordship’s conscience rendered
somewhat painful to him.
Admiral Cockburn, aided by an officer of the customs,
examined the effects of the Emperor: they seized four
thousand Napoleons, and left fifteen hundred to pay the
servants: this was all the Emperor’s treasure. They
were assisted, or rather impeded, in the operation by
Marchand, the valet-de-chambre of his Majesty: this
appeared to mortify the Admiral excessively; though
51requested to attend, not one amongst us would lend his
presence to, or witness, an act which we regarded as
being at once mean and insulting.
Meanwhile, the moment of quitting the Bellerophon
arrived. The Grand Marshal had been some time closeted
with the Emperor; during which we remained in the
outer cabin: on the door being opened, the Duke de
Rovigo, bursting into tears, threw himself at the feet of
Napoleon, and kissed his hands. The Emperor, still
calm and collected, embraced the Duke, and continued
his way towards the accommodationaccommodation-ladder, graciously
saluting all those who happened to be on the quarter-deck.
The whole of our party whom we left behind
were in a state of the deepest anguish; nor could I help
observing to Lord Keith, who stood near me at the time,
“You see, my Lord, that the only persons who shed tears
are those who are to remain.”
We reached the Northumberland between one and
two o’clock. The Emperor remained on deck conversing
familiarly and cheerfully with those of the English who
approached him. Lord Lowther and a Mr. Littleton
had a long conversation with him on politics and government.
I heard nothing of what passed; the Emperor
seemed desirous that we should leave him to himself. I
employed this moment of leisure in writing a last adieu
to my wife and friends: indeed, I felt very unwell and
much fatigued.
At the moment of getting under weigh, a cutter, that
was plying round the ship to keep off the people, ran
down a boat full of spectators close to us. Fatality
seems to have brought them from a great distance to
become the victims of this accident: I understood that
there were two women amongst those who perished.
Thus were we at length under sail for St. Helena, thirteen
days after our arrival at Plymouth, and forty from
our quitting Paris.
Those of the attendants whom Napoleon was not allowed
to take with him were the last to quit the ship,
bearing with them mingled proofs of satisfaction and
regret. Their departure gave rise to a second scene, not
52less affecting than the first. The Emperor retired to
the cabin allotted to him about seven o’clock.
The English Ministry warmly censured the respect
which had been shewn to the Emperor on boardboard the
Bellerophon, and issued fresh orders in consequence; so
that a totally different style of manner and expression
was affected in the Northumberland. The crew seemed
to betray a ridiculous anxiety to be covered before the
Emperor: it had been strictly enjoined to give him no
other title than that of General, and only to treat him
as such. This was the ingenious contrivance, the happy
conception, engendered by the diplomacy of the English
Ministers; and the title they thought proper to confer
on him whom they had recognised as First Consul,
whom they had so often styled head of the French
Government, with whom they treated as Emperor at
Paris, when Lord Lauderdale was employed to negotiate,
and, perhaps, even signed articles at Chatillon.
Hence, in a moment of warmth, the Emperor, in allusion
to this regulation, observed: “They may call me
whatever they choose, but they cannot prevent me from
being myself.” It was in fact no less whimsical than
ridiculous to see the Ministers of England attach such
importance to giving only the title of General to one
who had governed so large a portion of Europe, and
made seven or eight kings, of whom several still retained
this title of his creation; who had been above ten years
Emperor of the French, and been anointed as well as
consecrated in that quality by the head of the Church;
one who could boast two or three elections of the French
people to the sovereignty; who had been acknowledged
as Emperor by the whole of continental Europe; had
treated as such with all the sovereigns; concluding every
species of alliance both of blood and interest with them:
so that he united in his person every title, civil, political
and religious, existing amongst men: and which, by a
singular though real coincidence, not one of the reigning
Princes of Europe could have shewn accumulated in an
equal degree, on the chief and founder of his dynasty.
Nevertheless his Majesty, who intended, had he landed
in England, to assume the name and title of Colonel
53Duroc or Muiron, no longer thought of it now that his
legitimate titles were obstinately disputed.
8th-9th. The ship was in the greatest confusion,
and seemed to be quite encumbered with men as well as
stores and luggage: we sailed in so great a hurry that
there was scarcely any thing on board in its place, so
that the whole crew was now occupied in restoring order,
and preparing for the voyage.
The following particulars will afford some idea of that
part of the ship occupied by the Emperor and his suite.
The space abaft the mizen-mast contained two public
and two private cabins; the first was a dining-room
about ten feet broad, and extending the whole width of
the ship, lighted by a port-hole at each end, and a sky-light
above. The drawing-room was composed of all
the remaining space, diminished by two symmetrical
cabins on the right and left, each having an entry from
the dining or mess-room, and another from the drawing-room.
The Emperor occupied that on the left, in which
his camp bed-stead had been put up; that on the right
was appropriated to the Admiral. It was, above all,
peremptorily enjoined that the drawing-room should be
in common, and not given up to the Emperor: to such
a ridiculous extent had the fears and solicitude of the
Ministry been carried!
The form of the dining-table resembled that of the
mess-room. The Emperor sat with his back to the
drawing-room or after-cabin, and looking towards the
head of the ship; on his left sat Madame Bertrand, and
on his right, the Admiral. On the right of the Admiral
sat Madame de Montholon: these filled one side of the
table. At the end next that lady was Captain Ross,
who commanded the ship; opposite to whom, at the
corresponding end, sat M. de Montholon, by Madame
Bertrand; next to him, the Admiral’s secretary. The
remaining space was the side of the table opposite to
the Emperor, which, beginning from Captain Ross, was
54occupied by the Grand Marshal, the General commanding
the 53rd regiment, myself, and Baron Gourgaud.
The Admiral invited one or two of the officers every
day, who were intermixed amongst us at table. I generally
sat almost opposite to the Emperor. The band of
the 53d, which had been recently formed, exercised during
dinner at the expense of our ears. We had two
courses, but there was a want of provisions; our tastes
were, besides, very different from those of our hosts. It
is true, they did their utmost; but after all, it would not
do to be difficult. I was lodged with my son on the
starboard side, even with the main-mast, in a small cabin
enclosed with canvass, and having a gun in it. We
made as much sail as the wind would permit to get out
of the Channel, and stood along the coast of England,
communicating with all the ports in order to procure
additional supplies of sea-stock, and complete the stores
of the ship. A large quantity of articles was brought to
us from Plymouth, off which port we were joined by
several other vessels, as well as from Falmouth.
10.—This day we cleared the Channel, and lost sight
of land. We had now entered upon the dreary unknown
course to which fate had doomed us. Again
my agonies were renewed; again the dear connexions I
had abandoned resumed their influence over my heart.
I indulged in the luxuriance of grief, and found a miserable
satisfaction in its excess. “Objects of all my
affections,” I exclaimed, “friends of my heart, for whom
alone I live, reflect that I am proving myself worthy of
you. Let that thought support you also; and, oh!
forget me not.”
Meanwhile we advanced in our course, and were soon
to be out of Europe. Thus, in less than six weeks, had
the Emperor abdicated his throne, and placed himself
in the hands of the English, who were now hurrying
him to a barren rock in the midst of a vast ocean!
This is certainly no ordinary instance of the chances of
fortune, and no common trial of the firmness of the
55mind. Yet will posterity be better able to judge of these
three leading circumstances than we of the present day.
They will have to pronounce on a clear horizon; whereas
we are enveloped in clouds.
Scarcely had Napoleon descended from his throne,
when those who witnessed the misfortunes of the nation,
which followed, regarded his sacrifice as a capital error.
When they heard of his being a prisoner at Plymouth,
they censured his magnanimity; there was not a single
incident, even to his suffering himself to be sent to St.
Helena, which they did not make a subject of reproach.
But such is the tendency of vulgar minds: never judging
except on what they see at the moment! It is, however,
impossible to judge of one resolution without considering,
not only the evils which unavoidably attend it,
but those which a contrary determination might have
produced.
By abdicating, Napoleon rallied all the friends of
their country round one point—that of its safety! He
left France demanding, before all nations, nothing but
the sacred rights of national independence; he took
from the Allies every pretext to ravage and dismember
our territory; he destroyed all idea of his personal ambition;
terminating his career as the martyr of a cause
of which he had been the hero. If all the advantages
which might have been derived from his genius and
talents as a citizen were not obtained, it is to be imputed
to the weakness and treachery of the transitory Government
by which he was succeeded. When he arrived at
Rochefort, and the commander of the frigates refused to
sail, ought he to have abandoned the fruits of his abdication?
Should he have returned to the interior, and placed
himself at the head of mere bands, when he had
renounced armies? or, ought he to have desperately
encouraged a civil war which would lead to no beneficial
result, but only serve to ruin the remaining pillars, the
future hopes, of the country? In this state of affairs, he
formed a most magnanimous resolution, worthy of his
life, and a complete refutation of the calumnies that for
twenty years had been so ridiculously accumulated on
his head. But what will history say of those Ministers
56of a liberal nation, the guardians and depositaries of
popular rights—ever ardent in encouraging a Coriolanus,
having only chains for a Camillus?
As to the reproach of suffering himself to be transported
to St. Helena, it would be a disgrace to answer
such a charge. To contend with an adversary in the
cabin of a ship—kill some one with his own hand—or
attempt to set fire to the powder-magazine, would have
been, at best, the act of a Buccaneer. Dignity in misfortune,
submission to necessity, have also their glory:
it is that which becomes great men overwhelmed by
adversity.
When the English Ministers found themselves in
possession of Napoleon’s person, passion had much
more influence over them than justice or policy. They
neglected the triumph of their laws, denied the rights of
hospitality, disregarded their own honour, and compromised
that of their country. They determined to exile
their guest in the midst of the ocean, to keep him prisoner
on a rock, two thousand leagues from Europe, and
far from all communion with mankind. It seemed that
they wished to trust to the anguish of exile, the fatigues
of a long voyage, privations of every kind, and the corroding
influence of a burning climate, for effecting that
which they feared to perform themselves. In order,
however, to gain over the public voice, to make it appear
that their conduct was indispensably necessary, the
newspapers were instigated to irritate the passions of
the multitude, by reviving former calumnies and falsehoods;
while the Ministers, on their side, represented
their own determination as an engagement entered into
with their allies. We presented ourselves at the moment
of popular effervescence, just as every thing which
could render us odious had been brought forward. The
public journals were full of the most virulent declamations;
maliciously raking up every act and expression of
the previous struggle of twenty years that could wound
the national pride, or rekindle its hatred. Yet, when all
England hurried to the south to see us, during our stay
at Plymouth, the conduct and sentiments of the multitudes
who came were enough to convince us that this
57factitious irritation would disappear of itself. Hence we
were led to hope, on our departure, that the British
people would daily grow more impartial in a cause
to which they were no longer parties; that the current
of public opinion would eventually turn against
Ministers; and that we had thus ensured them formidable
attacks and a terrible responsibility for a future day.
11th—14th. Our course was shaped across the Bay
of Biscay, and double Cape Finisterre. The wind was
fair, though light; and the heat excessive: nothing
could be more monotonous than the time we now passed.
The Emperor breakfasted in his own cabin at irregular
hours; we took our breakfast at ten o’clock, in the
French style, while the English continued to breakfast
in their own way at eight.
The Emperor sent for one of us every morning to
know what was going on, the distance run, the state of
the wind, and other particulars connected with our progress.
He read much, dressed towards four o’clock, and
then came into the general cabin; here he played at
chess with one of the party: at five o’clock the Admiral,
having come out of his cabin a few minutes before, announced
that dinner was on the table.
It is well known that Napoleon was scarcely ever
more than fifteen minutes at his dinner; here the two
courses alone occupied from an hour to an hour and a
half: this was to him a most serious annoyance, though
he never mentioned it; his features, gestures, and manner,
always evinced perfect indifference. Neither the
new system of cookery, the difference nor quality of the
dishes, ever met with his censure or approbation; he
never expressed any wish or objection on the subject.
He was attended by his two valets, who stood behind
his chair. At first the Admiral was in the habit of offering
to help the Emperor; but the acknowledgment of
Napoleon was expressed so coldly that this practice was
discontinued. The Admiral continued very attentive,
but thenceforth only pointed out to the servants what
58was preferable; they alone attended to these matters, to
which the Emperor seemed totally indifferent, neither
seeing, noticing, nor seeking, any thing. He was generally
silent, remaining in the midst of conversation as if
totally unacquaintedunacquainted with the language, though it was
French. If he spoke, it was to ask some technical or
scientific question, and to address a few words to those
whom the Admiral occasionally asked to dinner. I was
the person to whom the Emperor generally addressed
his questions, in order to translate them.
I need scarcely observe that the English are accustomed
to remain a long time at table after the dessert,
drinking and conversing: the Emperor, already tired by
the tedious dinner, could never have endured this custom,
and he rose, therefore from the first day, immediately
after coffee had been handed round, and went out
on deck followed by the Grand Marshal and myself.
This disconcerted the Admiral, who took occasion to express
his surprise to his officers; but Madame Bertrand,
whose maternal language is English, warmly replied—“Do
not forget, Admiral, that your guest is a man who
has governed a large portion of the world, and that kings
once contended for the honour of being admitted to his
table.” “Very true,” rejoined the Admiral; and this
officer, who possesses good sense, a becoming pliability
of manners, and sometimes much elegance, did his utmost
from that moment to accommodate the Emperor in
his habits. He shortened the time of sitting at table,
ordering coffee for Napoleon and those who accompanied
him, even before the rest of the company had finished
their dinner. The moment Napoleon had taken his
coffee, he left the cabin; upon which every body rose till
he had quitted the room, and then continued to take
their wine for another hour.
The Emperor remained walking on deck till dark, attended
by the Grand Marshal and myself. This became
a regular practice, and was seldom omitted. On returning
to the after-cabin, he sat down to play vingt-et-un
with us, and generally retired in about half an
hour.
59
15th.—We asked permission to be admitted into the
Emperor’s presence this morning, and all entered his
cabin at the same time. He was not aware of the cause
of this visit:—it was his birthday, which seemed to have
altogether escaped his recollection. We had been in the
habit of seeing him on that anniversary, on a much
larger stage, and in the midst of his power, but never
were our wishes more sincere, or our hearts more full of
attachment, than on the present occasion.
The days now exactly resembled each other: at night
we constantly played at vingt-et-un; the Admiral and
some of his officers being occasionally of the party. The
Emperor used to retire after losing, according to custom
his ten or twelve Napoleons; this happened to him
daily, because he would persist in leaving his stake on
the table, until it had produced a considerable number.
To-day he had gained from eighty to a hundred. The
Admiral dealt the cards: the Emperor still wished to
leave his winnings, in order to see how far he could
reach; but thought he could perceive it would be quite
as agreeable to the Admiral if he stopped where he was.
The Emperor had won sixteen times, and might have
won more than sixty thousand Napoleons. While all
present were expatiating on his being thus singularly favoured
by fortune, an English officer observed that it was
the anniversary of his birth-day.
16th—21st. We doubled Cape Finisterre on the 16th,
passed Cape St. Vincent on the 18th, and were off the
Straits of Gibraltar next day. Continuing our course
along the coast of Africa towards Madeira, nothing worthy
of remark occurred, there being a perfect uniformity
in our habits and mode of passing the time; if there
was any difference, it could only arise from the subject
of our conversation.
The Emperor usually remained in his cabin during the
whole morning: so excessive was the heat that he only
60wore a very slight dress. He could not sleep, and frequently
rose in the night. Reading was his chief occupation.
I was sent for almost every morning, and translated
from the “Encyclopædia Britannica,” and such
other books as were on board, whatever they contained
relative to St. Helena, or the countries near which we
were sailing. This led to my Historical Atlas being
brought under review. Napoleon had merely glanced
at it on board the Bellerophon, and before that time he
had but a very indistinct notion of the work. I now
had the satisfaction of seeing it in the Emperor’s hands
for several days, and of hearing him express the warmest
approbation of my labours. The quantity and arrangementarrangement
of the matter seemed more particularly to please
him: he had, in fact, hitherto been but little acquainted
with the book. Passing over all the others, his chief
attention was attracted by the geographical charts;
more especially the map of the world, which seemed principally
to excite his notice and applause. I did not attempt
to convince him that the geography was the weakest
part of the work, displaying far less labour and research
than other parts; the general tables could not easily be
surpassed, either as to their method, symmetry, or facility
for use; while each of the genealogical tables presented
a miniature history of the country they concerned
and of which they were, in all respects, both a complete
analysis and a collection of elementary materials.
The Emperor asked me whether the work had been
used in all our systems of education; adding, that had it
been better known to him, all the schools and lyceums
should have been furnished with it. He further asked,
why I had published it under the borrowed name of Le
Sage? I replied that a very imperfect sketch had been
published in England, just after my emigration, at a
time when we could not acknowledge our names as emigrants
abroad, without danger to our relations in France;
“and, perhaps,” said I, laughing, “I was not then cured
of the prejudices of my youth; like the nobles of Bretagne,
who deposited their swords with the registrar of
the Civil Court, while engaged in trade, that they might
not derogate from their family dignity.”
61As already observed, the Emperor always rose from
table long before the rest of the company: the GrandGrand
Marshal and I always followed him to the quarter-deck,
where I was frequently left alone with him; as General
Bertrand had often to attend his wife, who suffered excessively
from sea-sickness.
After the preliminary remarks on the weather, the
ship’s progress, and the winds, Napoleon used to start a
subject of conversation, or revive that of the preceding
or some other former, day; and when he had taken eight
or nine turns the whole length of the deck, he would seat
himself on the second gun from the gangway on the larboard
side. The midshipmen soon observed this habitual
predilection, so that the cannon was thenceforth called
the Emperor’s gun.
It was there that Napoleon often conversed for hours
together, and that I learned for the first time a part of
what I am about to relate: in doing which, I wish to
observe that I shall at the same time add whatever I
collected in a variety of subsequent conversations; thus
presenting at one view, all that I have heard worth noting
on the subject.
The name of Bonaparte may be spelt either Bonaparte
or Buonaparte; as all Italians know. Napoleon’s father
always introduced the u; and his uncle, the Archdeacon
Lucien (who survived Napoleon’s father and was a
parent to Napoleon and his brothers), at the same time,
and under the same roof, wrote it Bonaparte. During
his youth, Napoleon followed the example of his father.
On attaining the command of the Army of Italy he took
good care not to alter the orthography, which agreed
with the spirit of the language; but at a later period,
and when amongst the French, he wished to adopt their
orthography, and thenceforth wrote his name Bonaparte.
This family for many years made a distinguished figure
in the Bolognese territory: it was very powerful at
Treviso; and is to be found inscribed in the Golden
book of Bologna, as also amongst the patricians of
Florence. When Napoleon, as General in chief of the
army of Italy, entered Treviso, at the head of his victorious
army, the principal inhabitants came to meet
62him, bringing title deeds and records, which proved that
his family had once been one of the most eminent in
their city.
At the interview of Dresden, before the Russian campaign,
the Emperor Francis one day told Napoleon,
then his son-in-law, that his family had governed as
sovereigns at Treviso: a fact of which there could be
no doubt, as Francis had caused all the documents
proving it to be drawn up and presented to him. Napoleon
replied, with a smile, that he did not wish to
know anything about it, and that he preferred being the
Rodolph of Hapsburgh of his own family. Francis attached
much more importance to the matter: he said
that it was of very little consequence to have fallen from
wealth to poverty; but that it was above all price to
have been of sovereign rank, and that the fact must be
communicated to Maria Louisa, to whom it would afford
infinite pleasure.
When, during the campaign of Italy, Napoleon entered
Bologna, Marescalchi, Caprara, and Aldini, since
so well known in France, and at that time deputies in
the senate of their native city, came of their own accord
to present the golden book, in which the name and arms
of his ancestors were inscribed.
There are several houses at Florence which attest
the former existence of the Buonaparte family there;
many houses are even still seen bearing the escutcheons
of the family.
Cesari, a Corsican or Bolognese, residing in London,
who was shocked at the manner in which the British
Government had received Napoleon’sNapoleon’s pacific letter on
assuming the Consulate, published a genealogical notice,
wherein he established the Emperor’s alliance with the
ancient house of Este, Welf, or Guelf, supposed to be
the parent stem of the present royal family of England.[10]
63The Duke de Feltre, French ambassador in Tuscany,
brought to Paris, from the Gallery de Medici, the portrait
of a Buonaparte who had married a princess of the
Grand Duke’s family. The mother of Pope Nicholas V.
or Paul V., of Sarzana, was also a Buonaparte.
It was a Buonaparte who negotiated the treaty by
which Leghorn was exchanged for Sarzana. It is to
a Buonaparte that we are indebted for one of the oldest
comedies written at the period of the revival of letters
intitled The Widow. It may still be seen in the
Royal Library at Paris.[11]
When Napoleon marched against Rome at the head
of the French army, and received the propositions of the
Pope at Tolentino, one of the negotiators of the enemy
observed that he was the only Frenchman who had
marched against Rome since the Constable de Bourbon;
but what rendered this circumstance still more singular
was that the history of the first expedition was written
by an ancestor of him who executed the second, that is
to say, Signor Niccolo Buonaparte, who has in reality
left us a work, called The Sacking of Rome by the Constable
de Bourbon.[12]
64Hence, perhaps, or from the Pope mentioned above,
the name of Niccolo, which the writers of certain
pamphlets pretended to be that of the Emperor, instead
of Napoleon. This work is to be found in most
libraries; it is preceded by a history of the house of
Buonaparte, printed about forty or fifty years ago, and
edited by Dr. Vaccha, a professor of Pisa.
M. de Cetto, ambassador of Bavaria, has often told me
that the archives of Munich contained a great number
of documents, in Italian, which proved the antiquity and
importance of the Buonaparte family.
During the continuance of his power, Napoleon always
refused to take any pains, or even to enter into conversation,
on the subject. The first attempt to turn his attention
to this matter occurred in the time of his Consulate,
and was so much discouraged that no one ever sought
to renew the discussion. Some person published a genealogy,
in which he contrived to connect the family of
Napoleon with certain northern kings. Napoleon caused
this specimen of flattery to be ridiculed in the public
papers in which the writers concluded by observing
that the nobility of the First Consul only dated from
Montenotte, or from the 18th of Brumaire.
This family suffered, like many others, from the numerous
revolutions which desolated the cities of Italy.
The troubles of Florence placed the Buonapartes amongst
the fuorusciti, or emigrants. One of the family retired
to Sarzana in the first instance, and thence went to
Corsica, from which island his descendants always continued
to send their children to Tuscany, where they were
educated under the care of the branch that remained at
San Miniato. The second sons of this branch had borne
the name of Napoleon for several generations, which was
derived from an ancestor thus named, celebrated in the
annals of Italy.
When on his way to Florence, after the expedition to
65Leghorn, Napoleon slept at the house of an old Abbé
Buonaparte, at San Miniato, who treated the whole of
his staff with great magnificence. Having exhausted all
the family recollections, the Abbé told the young General
that he was going to bring forth the most precious document
of all. Napoleon thought he was about to shew
him a fine genealogical tree, well calculated to gratify
his vanity (said he, laughing); but it was a memorial
regularly drawn up in favour of father Buonaventura
Buonaparte, a Capuchin friar of Bologna, long since
beatified, but who had not yet been canonized owing to
the enormous expense which it required. “The Pope
will not refuse you,” said the good Abbé, “if you ask
him; and should it be necessary to pay the sum now, it
will be a mere trifle for you.” Napoleon laughed heartily
at this simplicity, so little in harmony with the manners
of the day: the old man never dreamt that the saints
were no longer in fashion.
On reaching Florence, Napoleon conceived it would
be very satisfactory to his namesake to send him the
ribbon of the order of St. Stephen, of which he was
merely a knight; but the pious Abbé was much less
anxious about the favours of this world than the religious
justice which he so pertinaciously claimed: and, as it
afterwards appeared, not without reason. The Pope,
when he came to Paris to crown the Emperor, also recurred
to the claims of Father Buonaventura. “It was
doubtless he,” said the Pope, “who, from his seat
amongst the blessed, had led his relative, as it were, by
the hand through the glorious earthly career he had
traversed; and who had preserved Napoleon in the
midst of so many dangers and battles.” The Emperor,
however, always turned a deaf ear to these remarks;
leaving it to the holy father’s own discretion to provide
for the glory of Buonaventura. As to the old Abbé of
San Miniato, he left his fortune to Napoleon, who presented
it to one of the public establishments in Tuscany.
It would, however, be very difficult to connect any
genealogical data in this place, from the conversations
of the Emperor, who used often to say he had never
looked at one of his parchments: these having always
66remained in the hands of his brother Joseph, whom he
styled the “genealogist of the family.” And, lest I
may forget it, I will here mention the fact of Napoleon’s
having, when on the point of embarking, delivered a
packet to his brother, containing all the original letters
addressed to him by the sovereigns of Europe in their
own hand-writing. I frequently expressed my regret to
the Emperor at his parting with such a precious historical
manuscript.[13]
Charles Buonaparte, the father of Napoleon, was
extremely tall, handsome, and well-made; his education
had been well conducted at Rome and Pisa, where he
studied the law: he is said to have possessed great
spirit and energy. It was he who, on its being proposed
to submit to France, in the public assembly of Corsica,
delivered a speech which electrified the whole country:
he was not more than twenty years of age at this period.
“If it only depended on the will to become free,” said
he, “all nations would be so; yet history teaches us
that very few have attained the blessings of liberty, because
few have had energy, courage, and virtue enough
to deserve them.”
When the island was conquered, he wished to accompany
Paoli in his emigration; but an old uncle, the
Archdeacon Lucien, who exercised the authority of a
parent over him, prevented his departure.
In 1779, Charles Buonaparte was elected deputy to
represent the nobles of Corsica at Paris, whither he
brought young Napoleon with him, then only ten years
old. He passed through Florence on his way, and obtained
a letter of introduction from the Grand Duke
Leopold to his sister the Queen of France. It was to
his known rank and the respectability of his name and
67family in Tuscany, that he was indebted for this mark
of attention.
Charles Bonaparte.
London. Published for Henry Colburn. January, 1836.
There were two French generals in Corsica, at the
above period, so inimical to each other that their quarrels
formed two parties; one was M. de Marbeuf, a mild and
popular character, and the other, M. de Narbonne Pellet,
distinguished for haughtiness and violence. The latter,
from his birth and superior interest, must have been a
dangerous man for his rival: fortunately for M. de
Marbeuf, he was much more beloved in the island.
When the deputation headed by Charles Buonaparte
arrived at Versailles, he was consulted on the dispute,
and the warmth of his testimony obtained a triumph for
Marbeuf. The Archbishop of Lyons, nephew to Marbeuf,
thought it his duty to wait on the deputy, and
thank him for the service he had rendered. On young
Napoleon’s being placed in the military school of Brienne,
the Archbishop gave him a special recommendation
to the family of Brienne, which lived there during
the greater part of the year: hence the friendly demeanour
of the Marbeufs and Briennes towards the children
of the Buonaparte family. Calumny has assigned
another cause, but the simple examination of dates is
fully sufficient to prove its absurdity.
Old M. de Marbeuf, who commanded in Corsica,
lived at Ajaccio, where the family of Charles Buonaparte
was one of the principal. Madame Buonaparte being
the most fascinating and beautiful woman in the town,
it was very natural for the General to frequent her house
in preference to many other places of resort.
Charles Buonaparte died at the age of thirty-eight, of
an induration in the glands of the stomach. He had
experienced a temporary cure during one of his visits to
Paris, but became the victim of a second attack at
Montpellier, where he was interred in one of the convents
of the city.
During the Consulate, the notables of Montpellier,
through the medium of their countryman Chaptal, minister
of the interior, solicited the permission of the First
Consul to erect a monument to the memory of his father.
Napoleon thanked them for their good intentions, but
68declined acceding to their solicitation. “Let us not
disturb the repose of the dead,” said he; “let their
ashes remain in peace. I have also lost my grandfather
and great-grandfather; why not erect monuments to
them? This might lead too far. Had my father died
yesterday, it would be proper and natural that my grief
should be accompanied by some signal mark of respect.
But his death took place twenty years ago: it is an
event of no public interest, and it is useless to revive
the recollection of it.” At a subsequent period Louis
Buonaparte, without the knowledge of Napoleon, had
his father’s remains disinterred, and removed to St.
Leu, where he erected a monument to his memory.
Charles Buonaparte had been the very reverse of
devout; he had even written some anti-religious poems;
and yet, at the period of his death, said the Emperor,
there were not priests enough for him in Montpellier.
In this respect he was very different from his brother
Archdeacon Lucien, a very pious and orthodox ecclesiastic,
who died long after him, at a very advanced age.
On his death-bed, he took great umbrage at Fesch, who,
being by this time a priest, ran to him in his stole and
surplice to assist him in his last moments. Lucien begged
that he would suffer him to die in peace, and he
breathed his last surrounded by the members of his
family, giving them philosophic counsel and patriarchal
benedictions.
The Emperor frequently spoke of his old uncle, who
had been a second father to him, and who was for a
length of time the head of the family. He was Archdeacon
of Ajaccio, one of the principal dignitaries of the
island. His prudence and economy re-established the
affairs of the family, which had been much deranged by
the extravagance of Charles. The old uncle was much
revered, and enjoyed considerable authority in the district:
the peasantry voluntarily submitted their disputes
to his decision, and he freely gave them his advice and
his blessing.
Letizia Buonaparte
Published for Henry Colburn, Dec. 1835.
Charles Buonaparte married Mademoiselle Letitia
Ramolini, whose mother, after the death of her first husband,
married Captain Fesch, an officer in one of the
69Swiss regiments, which the Genoese usually maintained
in the island. Cardinal Fesch was the issue of this
second marriage, and was consequently step-brother to
Madame and uncle to the Emperor.
Madame was one of the most beautiful women of her
day, and she was celebrated throughout Corsica. Paoli,
in the time of his power, having received an embassy
from Algiers or Tunis, wished to give the Barbary envoys
some notion of the attractions of the island, and for this
purpose he assembled together all the most beautiful women
in Corsica, among whom Madame took the lead.
Subsequently, when she travelled to Brienne to see her
son, her personal charms were remarked even in Paris.
During the war for Corsican liberty, Madame Buonaparte
shared the dangers of her husband, who was an
enthusiast in the cause. In his different expeditions she
frequently followed him on horseback, while she was
pregnant with Napoleon. She was a woman of extraordinary
vigour of mind, joined to considerable pride and
loftiness of spirit. She was the mother of thirteen children,
and she might have had many more, for she was a
widow at the age of thirty. Of these thirteen children,
only five boys and three girls lived, all of whom performed
distinguished parts in the reign of Napoleon.
Joseph, the eldest of the family, was originally intended
for the church, on account of the influence possessed
by Marbeuf, archbishop of Lyons, who had the
patronage of numerous livings. He went through the
regular course of study; but when the moment arrived
for taking orders, he refused to enter the ecclesiastical
profession. He was successively King of Naples and
Spain.
Louis was King of Holland, and Jerome King of
Westphalia. Eliza was Grand Duchess of Tuscany;
Caroline, Queen of Naples; and Pauline, Princess
Borghese. Lucien, who through his marriage and a
mistaken direction of character, doubtless forfeited a
crown, atoned for all his past errors by throwing himself
into the arms of the Emperor on his return from
Elba, at a moment when Napoleon was far from relying
on the certainty of his prospects. Lucien, the Emperor
70used to say, passed a turbulent career in his youth: at the
age of fifteen he was taken to France by M. Semonville,
who soon made him a zealous revolutionist and an ardent
clubist. On this subject the Emperor said that in the
numerous libels published against him were some addresses
or letters, bearing, among other signatures, that
of Brutus Buonaparte, which were attributed to him,
Napoleon; he would not affirm, he added, that these
addresses were not written by some individual of the
family, but he could declare that they were not his production.
I had the opportunity of rendering myself acquainted
with the sentiments of Prince Lucien, on the Emperor’s
return from Elba, and am enabled to say that it would
have been difficult for any man to have been more upright
and steady in his political views, or to have evinced
greater attachment and good-will towards his brother.
22nd–26th. On the 22nd we came within sight of
Madeira, and at night arrived off the port. Only two
of the vessels cast anchor, to take on board supplies
for the squadron. The wind blew very hard, and the
sea was exceedingly rough. The Emperor found himself
indisposed, and I was also ill. A sudden gale arose;
the air was excessively hot, and seemed to be impregnated
with small particles of sand—we were now assailed
by the emanations of the terrible winds from the
deserts of Africa. This weather lasted throughout the
whole of the following day. Our communication with
the shore became extremely difficult. The English Consul
came on board, and informed us that for many years
there had not been such a hurricane at Madeira; the
vintage was entirely destroyed, all the windows in the
town were broken, and it had been found scarcely possible
to breathe in the streets. All this time we continued
tacking about before the town; which we continued to
do throughout the whole of the following night, and the
24th, when we took on board several oxen, and stores
of other provisions, such as unripe oranges, bad peaches,
and tasteless pears; the figs and grapes were however
71excellent. In the evening we made way with great rapidity;
the wind still blowing hard. On the 25th and
26th we lay-to during a portion of each day, to distribute
provisions among the vessels composing the squadron;
during the rest of the time, we sailed on smoothly and
rapidly.
Meanwhile nothing occurred to interrupt the uniformity
of the scene. Each day crept slowly on, and added
to the past interval, which, as a whole, seemed brief
because it was void of interest, and not characterized by
any remarkable incident.
The Emperor had added to the number of his amusements
by a game at piquet, which he regularly played
about three o’ clock. This was succeeded by a few
games at chess with the Grand Marshal, M. de Montholon,
or some other individual, until dinner-time.
There was no very good chess-player on board the vessel.
The Emperor was but an indifferent player; he
gained with some and lost with others, a circumstance
which one evening led him to say, “How happens it
that I frequently lose with those who are never able to
beat him whom I almost always beat? Does not this
seem contradictory? How is this problem to be solved?”
said he, winking his eye, to shew that he was not the
dupe of the constant politeness of him who was really
the best player.
We no longer played at vingt-et-un in the evening:
we gave up this game on account of our having played
too high, at which the Emperor appeared displeased, for
he was a great enemy to gaming. On returning from
his afternoon walk on the deck. Napoleon played two or
three games at chess, and retired to rest early.
27th—31st. At daybreak on Sunday, 27th, we
found ourselves among the Canaries, which we passed
72in the course of the day, sailing at the rate of ten or
twelve knots an hour, without having perceived the famous
Peak of Teneriffe—a circumstance the more extraordinary,
since in clear weather it is visible at the
distance of sixty leagues.
On the 29th we crossed the tropic, and observed
many flying fish round the ship. On the 31st, at eleven
at night, one of the sailors threw himself overboard; he
was a negro who had got drunk, and was fearful of the
flogging that awaited him. He had several times, in
the course of the evening, attempted to jump overboard,
and at last succeeded. He however soon repented, and
uttered loud cries. He swam very well; but though a
boat was immediately sent off, and every endeavour used
to rescue him, he was lost. The cries of this man in the
sea excited a powerful sensation on board the vessel. In a
moment the crew were hurrying about in every direction:
the noise was very great, and the agitation universal.
As I was descending from deck to the cabin, a midshipman,
a youth between ten and twelve years of age,
of an interesting countenance, thinking I was going to
inform the Emperor of what had occurred, laid hold of
my coat, and in a tone expressive of the tenderest interest
exclaimed, “Ah, Sir, do not alarm him! Tell him
the noise is nothing at all; that it is only a man fallen
overboard.” Amiable and innocent youth! he expressed
his sentiments rather than his thoughts!
In general the midshipmen, of whom there were
several on board the ship, behaved with marked respect
and attention to the Emperor. They every evening repeated
a scene that made a deep impression on our feelings.
Early in the morning the sailors carried up their
hammocks, and put them in the large nettings at the
sides of the ship; and about six in the evening they
carried them away at the signal of a whistle. Those
who were tardy in the performance of this duty received
a certain punishment. On the signal being given, a
great bustle ensued; and it was gratifying to see the
midshipmen at this moment form a circle round the
Emperor, whether he might be standing in the middle of
the deck, or resting on his favourite gun. They
73watched his motions with an anxious eye, and either by
signs or words directed the sailors to avoid incommoding
him. The Emperor frequently observed this conduct,
and remarked that youthful hearts were always inclined
to enthusiasm.
I will now proceed with the details, which I collected
at various times, respecting the early years of the Emperor’s
life.
Napoleon was born about noon on the 15th of August
(Assumption-day) in the year 1769. His mother, who
was possessedpossessed of great bodily as well as mental vigour,
and who had braved the dangers of war during her pregnancy,
wished to attend mass on account of the solemnity
of the day: she was, however, taken ill at church, and
on her return home was delivered before she could be
conveyed to her chamber. The child, as soon as it was
born, was laid on the carpet, which was an old-fashioned
one, representing at full length the heroes of fable, or,
perhaps, of the Iliad. This child was Napoleon.
In his boyhood Napoleon was turbulent, adroit, lively
and agile in the extreme. He had gained, he used to
say, the most complete ascendancy over his elder brother
Joseph. The latter was beaten and ill-treated; complaints
were carried to the mother, and she would begin
to scold before poor Joseph had even time to open his
mouth.
At the age of ten, Napoleon was sent to the military
school at Brienne. His name, which in his Corsican
accent he pronounced as if written Napoilloné, from the
similarity of the sound, procured for him, among his
youthful companions, the nick-name of la paille au nez
(straw in his nose). At this period a great change took
place in Napoleon’s character. In contradiction to all
the apocryphal histories, which contain anecdotes of his
life, he was when at Brienne mild, quiet, and susceptible.
One day the quarter master, who was a man of harsh
disposition, and who never took the trouble of considering
the physical and moral shades of character in each
individual scholar, condemned Napoleon, by way of punishment,
to wear the serge coat, and to take his dinner
on his knees at the door of the refectory. Napoleon,
74who had a vast share of pride and self-conceit, was so
mortified by this disgrace, that he was seized with a
violent retching, and suffered a severe nervous attack.
The head master of the school happening accidentally to
pass by, relieved him from the punishment, reproving
the quarter-master for his want of discernment; and
Father Patrault, the professor of mathematics, was very
indignant on finding that his first mathematician had
been treated with so little respect.
[14]“On attaining the age of puberty, Napoleon’s temper
became morose and reserved; his passion for reading
was carried to excess; and he eagerly devoured the
contents of every book that fell in his way. Pichegru
was at this time his quarter-master and his tutor in the
four rules of arithmetic.
“Pichegru was a native of Franche-Comté, where
his family were farmers. The Minim monks of Champagne
were appointed to superintend the military school
of Brienne. Owing to their poverty, however, so few
individuals were induced to enter their order that they
found themselves inadequate to the task imposed on
them; and they solicited the assistance of the Minim
monks of Franche-Comté, of whom Father Patrault was
one. An aunt of Pichegru’s, a nun of La Charité, followed
Patrault, for the purpose of superintending the
infirmary, and she was accompanied by her nephew, a
youth who was admitted to the school to receive his
education gratuitously. Pichegru, who was extremely
clever, was, on his attaining a suitable age, made quarter-master
and tutor under Father Patrault, who had taught
him mathematics. He intended to become a monk,
which was the sole object of his ambition and of his
aunt’s wishes. But Father Patrault dissuaded him from
this intention, assuring him that the profession was not
suited to the age; and that he ought to look forward to
something better: he prevailed on him to enlist in the
artillery, where the Revolution found him a sub-officer.
75His military career is known:—he was the conqueror of
Holland. Thus Father Patrault had the honour of counting among
his pupils the two greatest generals of modern
France.
“Father Patrault was subsequently secularized by M.
de Brienne, Archbishop of Sens and Cardinal de Lomenie,
who made him one of his grand vicars, and
intrusted him with the management of his numerous
benefices.
“At the time of the Revolution, Father Patrault,
though his opinions were widely opposite to those of his
patron, nevertheless exerted every endeavour to save
him, and with this view applied to Danton, who was a
native of the same part of France to which the Cardinal
and himself belonged. But all was unavailing; and it
is supposed that Patrault, after the manner of the ancients,
rendered to the Cardinal the service of procuring
for him a poisoned draught to save him from the
scaffold.
“Madame de Lomenie, the Cardinal’s niece, before
her life was sacrificed by the revolutionary tribunal, intrusted
Father Patrault with the care of her two daughters,
who were yet in their childhood. The moment of
terror having passed away, their aunt Madame de Brienne,
who had escaped the storm and preserved a considerable
portion of her fortune, applied to Father Patrault for the
children; but he refused to give them up, on the ground
that their mother had directed him to withdraw them
from the world and to devote them to the occupation of
peasants. He had conceived the design of literally executing
these figurative commands, and was on the point
of uniting them to two of his own nephews. ‘I was
then,’ said Napoleon, ‘General of the Army of the
Interior, and I became the mediator for the restoration
of the two children, an object which was not accomplished
without difficulty. Patrault employed every possible
means of resistance. These daughters of Madame de
Lomenie were the two ladies whom you have since known
by the names of Madame de Marnesia, and the beautiful
Madame de Canisy, Duchess de Vicenza.’Vicenza.’
“Father Patrault, having renewed his acquaintance
76with his old pupil, followed him and joined the Army of
Italy, where he proved himself better able to calculate
projectiles than to meet their effects. At Montenotte,
Millesimo, and Dego, he evinced the most puerile
cowardice. During the action he was occupied, not like
Moses, in praying, but in weeping. The General-in-chief
appointed him administrator of domains at Milan,
from which he derived considerable profits. On Napoleon’s
return from Egypt, he presented himself to him:
he was no longer the little Minim monk of Champagne,
but a corpulent financier, possessed of upwards of a million.
Two years afterwards he again sought an interview
with the First Consul at Malmaison: he now looked
mean, dejected, and shabbily dressed. ‘How is this?’
inquired the Consul. ‘You see before you a ruined
man,’ replied Patrault; ‘one who is reduced to beggary;
the victim of severe misfortune.’ The First Consul determined
to investigate the truth of this statement; he
discovered that Father Patrault had commenced the trade
of an usurer. The great calculator had lost his fortune
through bankruptcies, in lending at great risk for a high
interest. ‘I have already paid my debt,’ said the First
Consul, at his next interview with him; ‘I can do no
more for you; I cannot make a man’s fortune twice.’
He contented himself with granting Patrault a pension
sufficient for his subsistence.
“Napoleon retained but a faint idea of Pichegru; he
remembered that he was a tall man, rather red in the
face. Pichegru, on the contrary, seems to have preserved
a striking recollection of young Napoleon. When
Pichegru joined the royalist party, he was asked whether
it would not be possible to gain over the General-in-chief
of the Army of Italy. ‘To attempt that would only be
wasting time,’ said he: ‘from my knowledge of him
when a boy, I am sure he must be a most inflexible character:
he has formed his resolutions, and he will not
change them.’”
The Emperor has often been much amused at the tales
and anecdotes that are related of his boyhood, in the numerous
little publications to which he had given rise:
he acknowledges the accuracy of scarcely any of them.
77There is one, relative to his confirmation at the military
school of Paris, which, however, he admitted to be true.
It is as follows:—the archbishop who confirmed him,
manifesting his astonishment at the name of Napoleon,
said he did not know of any such saint, and that there
was no such name in the calendar; the boy quickly replied,
that that could be no rule, since there were an
immense number of saints, and only 365 days.
Napoleon never observed his festival-day until after
the Concordat: his patron saint was a stranger to the
French Calendar, and even where his name is recorded
the date of his festival is a matter of uncertainty. The
Pope, however, fixed it for the 15th of August, which
was at once the Emperor’s birth-day, and the day of the
signing of the Concordat.
[15]“In 1783, Napoleon was one of the scholars who,
at the usual competition at Brienne, were fixed upon to
be sent to the military school at Paris, to finish their
education. The choice was made annually by an inspector,
who visited the twelve military schools. This
office was filled by the Chevalier de Keralio, a general
officer, and the author of a work on military tactics. He
was also the tutor of the present [the late] King of
Bavaria, who in his youth bore the title of Duke of
Deux-Ponts. Keralio was an amiable old man and well
qualified to discharge the duty of Inspector of the
military schools. He was fond of the boys, played with
them when they had finished their examinations, and
permitted those who had acquitted themselves most to
his satisfaction to dine with him at the table of the
monks. He was particularly attached to young Napoleon,
and took a pleasure in stimulating him to exertion.
He singled him out to be sent to Paris, though it would
appear he had not at that time attained the requisite
age. The lad was not very far advanced in any branch
of education except mathematics, and the monks suggested
that it would be better to wait till the following
year, to afford time for further improvement. But this
the Chevalier de Keralio would by no means agree to; ‘I
78know what I am about,’ said he, ‘and if I am transgressing
the rules, it is not on account of family influence:—I
know nothing of the friends of this youth. I
am actuated only by my own opinion of his merit. I
perceive in him a spark of genius which cannot be too
early fostered.’ The worthy chevalier died suddenly,
before he had time to carry his determination into effect;
but his successor, M. de Regnaud, who would not perhaps
have evinced half his penetration, nevertheless
fulfilled his intention, and young Napoleon was sent to
Paris.”
At this period he began to develop qualities of a
superior order: decision of character, profound reflection,
and vigorous conceptions. It would appear, that from
his earliest childhood his parents rested all their hopes
on him. His father, when on his death-bed at Montpellier,
though Joseph was beside him, spoke only of
Napoleon, who was then at the military school. In the
delirium with which he was seized in his last moments,
he incessantly called Napoleon to come to his aid with
his great sword. The grand uncle, Lucien, who on his
death-bed was surrounded by all his relatives, said,
addressing himself to Joseph, “You are the eldest of the
family; but there is the head of it (pointing to Napoleon).
Never lose sight of him.” The Emperor used
to laugh and say, “This was a true disinheritance: it
was the scene of Jacob and Esau.”
Having myself been educated at the military school of
Paris, though at an earlier period than that at which
Napoleon attended it, I was enabled, on returning from
my emigration, to converse about the Emperor with the
masters who had been common to us both.
M. de l’Eguille, our teacher of history, used to boast
that the records of the military school contained proofs
of his having foretold the great career which his pupil
was destined to fill; and that he had frequently, in his
notes, eulogised the depth of his reflection, and the
shrewdness of his judgment. He informed me that the
First Consul used often to invite him to breakfast at
Malmaison, and that he always took pleasure in conversing
about his old lessons.—“That which made the
79deepest impression on me,” said he, one day to M. de
l’Eguille, “was the revolt of the Constable de Bourbon,
though you did not present it to us precisely in its proper
light. You made it appear that his great crime was his
having fought against his king; which certainly was but
a trifling fault, in those days of divided nobility and
sovereignty; particularly considering the scandalous injustice
of which he was the victim. His great, his real,
his only crime, and that on which you did not sufficiently
dwell, was his having joined with foreigners to
attack his native country.”
M. Domairon, our professor of belles-lettres, informed
me that he had always been struck with the singularity
of Napoleon’s amplifications, which he said were like
granite heated in a volcano.
Only one individual formed a mistaken idea of him;
that was M. Bauer, the dull heavy German master.
Young Napoleon never made much progress in the German
language, which offended M. Bauer, who ranked
German above all things, and he in consequence formed
a most contemptible opinion of his pupil’s abilities. One
day, Napoleon not being in his place, M. Bauer inquired
where he was, and was told that he was attending his
examination in the class of artillery. “What! does he
know any thing?” said M. Bauer ironically. “Why,
Sir, he is the best mathematician in the school,” was the
reply. “Ah! I have always heard it remarked, and I
have always believed, that none but a fool could learn
mathematics.” “It would be curious,” said the Emperor,
“to know whether M. Bauer lived long enough
to see me rise in the world, and to enjoy the confirmation
of his own judgment.”
Napoleon was scarcely eighteen years of age when the
Abbé Raynal, struck with the extent of his acquirements,
appreciated his merit so highly as to make him one of
the ornaments of his scientific déjeûners. Finally, the
celebrated Paoli, who, after having long inspired Napoleon
with a sort of veneration, found the latter at the
head of a party against him, the moment he shewed himself
favourable to the English, was accustomed to say—“This
young man is formed on the ancient model. He
is one of Plutarch’s men.”
80In 1785, Napoleon, who was appointed at once a
cadet and an officer of artillery, quitted the military
school to enter the regiment of la Fère with the rank of
second lieutenant; from which he was promoted to the
rank of first lieutenant in the regiment of Grenoble.
Napoleon, on quitting the military school, went to
join his regiment at Valence. The first winter he spent
there, his comrades at the mess-table were Lariboissière,
whom, during the empire, he appointed inspector-general
of the artillery; Sorbier, who succeeded Lariboissière
in that post; d’Hedouville, junior, afterwards
minister plenipotentiary at Frankfort; Mallet, brother
of him who headed the tumult in Paris in 1813; an
officer named Mabille, whom, on his return from emigration,
the Emperor appointed to a situation in the
post-office; Rolland de Villarceaux, afterwards prefect of
Nismes; Desmazzis, junior, his companion at the military
school, and the friend of his early years, who after
Napoleon ascended the throne, became keeper of the
Imperial wardrobe.
There were in the corps officers more or less easy in
their circumstances; Napoleon ranked among the former.
He received from his family 1200 francs a year,
which was then the amount of an officer’s full pay.
There were two individuals in the regiment who could
afford to keep cabriolets, or carriages of some kind, and
they were looked upon as very great men. Sorbier was
one of these two: his companions got him to drive
them about, and they repaid the obligation by jokes and
puns. Sorbier was the son of a physician at Moulins.
At Valence, Napoleon obtained an early introduction
to Madame dudu Columbier, a lady about fifty years of
age, who was endowed with many rare and estimable
qualities, and who was the most distinguished person in
the town. She entertained a great regard for the young
artillery-officer, and through her acquaintance he mingled
in all the best company in Valence and its neighbourhood.
She introduced him to the Abbé de Saint Rufe,
an elderly man of property, who was frequently visited
by the most distinguished persons in the country. Napoleon
was indebted for the favour he enjoyed to his
81extensive information, joined to the facility and force
with which he turned it to account. Madame du Colombier
often foretold that he would be a distinguished
man. The death of this lady happened about the time
of the breaking out of the Revolution: it was an event
in which she took great interest, and in her last moments
was heard to say that, if no misfortune befel young
Napoleon, he would infallibly play a distinguished part
in the events of the time. The Emperor never spoke of
Madame du Colombier but with expressions of the tenderest
gratitude; and he did not hesitate to acknowledge
that the valuable introductions and superior company in
society which she procured for him had great influence
over his destiny.
The gaiety which Napoleon enjoyed at this period of
his life, excited great jealousy on the part of his fellow-officers.
They were displeased at seeing him absent
himself so frequently from among them, though his
doing so could be no reasonable ground of offence to
them. Fortunately the commandant, M. d’Urtubie, had
formed a just estimate of his character: he shewed him
great kindness, and afforded him the means of fulfilling
his military duties, and at the same time of mingling in
the pleasures of society.
Napoleon conceived an attachment for Mademoiselle
du Colombier, who, on her part, was not insensible to
his merits. It was the first love of both; and it was
that kind of love which might be expected to arise at
their age and with their education. “We were the
most innocent creatures imaginable,” the Emperor used
to say; “we contrived little meetings together: I well
remember one which took place on a Midsummer morning,
just as daylight began to dawn. It will scarcely
be believed that all our happiness consisted in eating
cherries together.”
It has been said that the mother wished to bring
about this marriage, and that the father opposed it on
the ground that they would ruin each other by their
union; while each was separately destined to a fortunate
career. But this story is untrue, as is likewise another
anecdote relative to a marriage with Mademoiselle
82Clary, afterwards Madame Bernadotte, now Queen of
Sweden.
In 1805, the Emperor, when about to be crowned
King of Italy, on passing through Lyons, again saw
Mademoiselle du Colombier, who had now changed her
name to Madame de Bressieux. She gained access to
him with some difficulty, surrounded as he was by the
etiquette of royalty. Napoleon was happy to see her
again; but he found her much altered for the worse.
He did for her husband what she solicited, and placed her
in the situation of lady of honour to one of his sisters.
Mademoiselles de Laurencin and Saint-Germain were
at that time the reigning toasts in Valence, where they
divided the general admiration. The latter married
Monsieur de Montalivet, who was also known to the
Emperor at that time, and who was afterwards made
Minister of the Interior. “He was an honest fellow,”
said Napoleon, “and one who, I believe, remained
firmly attached to me.”
When about eighteen or twenty years of age, the
Emperor was distinguished as a young man of extensive
information, possessing a reflective turn of mind and
strong reasoning powers. His reading had been very
extensive, and he had profoundly meditated on the fund
of knowledge thus acquired, much of which, he used to
say, he had probably since lost. His sparkling and
ready wit and energetic language distinguished him
wherever he went: he was a favourite with every one,
particularly with the fair sex, to whom he recommended
himself by the elegance and novelty of his ideas, and the
boldness of his arguments. As for the men, they were
often afraid to engage with him in those discussions into
which he was led by a natural confidence in his own
powers.
Many individuals, who knew him at an early period of
life, predicted his extraordinary career; and they viewed
the events of his life without astonishment. At an early
age he gained anonymously a prize at the Academy of
Lyons, on the following question, proposed by Raynal:—“What
are the principles and institutions calculated
to advance mankind to the highest possible degree of
83happiness?” The anonymous memorial excited great
attention: it was perfectly in unison with the ideas of
the age. It began by enquiring in what happiness consisted;
and the answer was, in the perfect enjoyment of
life in the manner most conformable with our moral and
physical organization. After he became Emperor, Napoleon
was one day conversing on this subject with M. de Talleyrand:
the latter, like a skilful courtier, shortly
after presented to him the famous memorial, which he
had procured from the archives of the Academy of
Lyons. The Emperor took it, and, after reading a few
pages, threw into the fire this first production of his
youth. “We can never think of every thing,” said
Napoleon: and M. de Talleyrand had not taken the
precaution of having it copied.
The Prince de Condé one day visited the Artillery
school at Auxonne; and the cadets considered it a high
honour to be examined by that military prince. The
commandant, in spite of the hierarchy, placed young
Napoleon at the head of the polygon, in preference to
others of superior rank. It happened that, on the day
preceding the examination, all the cannons of the polygon
were spiked: but Napoleon was too much on the alert
to be caught by this trick of his comrades, or snare,
perhaps, of the illustrious traveller.
It is generally believed that Napoleon, in his boyhood,
was taciturn, sullen, and morose: on the contrary,
he was of a very lively turn. He never appeared more
delighted than when relating to us the various tricks he
was accustomed to play when at the School of Artillery.
In describing the joyous moments of his early youth,
he seems to forget the misfortunes which hold him in
captivity.
There was an old commandant, upwards of eighty
years of age, for whom the cadets entertained a very
high respect, notwithstanding the many jokes they
played upon him. One day, while he was examining
them in their cannon exercise, and watching every discharge
with his eye-glass, he asserted they were far
from hitting the mark, and asked those near him if they
had seen the ball strike. Nobody had observed the
84youths’ slipping aside the ball every time they loaded.
The old general was rather sharp; after five or six discharges,
he took it into his head to count the balls. The
trick was discovered. The general thought it a very
good one; but nevertheless ordered all who had participated
in it to be put under arrest.
The cadets would occasionally take a pique at some of
their captains, or determine to revenge themselves on
others to whom they owed a grudge. They then resolved
to banish them from society, and to reduce them
to the necessity of putting themselves under a sort of
arrest. Four or five of the cadets undertook to execute
the design. They fastened on their victim; pursued
him into every company, and he was not suffered to
open his mouth without being methodically and logically
contradicted, though always with a strict regard to politeness:
at length the poor fellow found that retirement
was his only alternative.
“On another occasion,” Napoleon used to relate,
“one of my comrades who lodged above me unluckily
took a fancy to learn to play the horn, and made such a
hideous noise as completely disturbed the studies of those
who were within hearing. We met each other one day
on the stairs; ‘Are you not tired of practising the
horn?’ said I. ‘Not at all,’ he replied. ‘At any rate,
you tire other people.’ ‘I am sorry for it.’ ‘It would
be better if you went to practise elsewhere.’ ‘I am
master of my own apartment.’ ‘Perhaps you may be
taught to entertain a doubt on that point.’ ‘I scarcely
think any one will be bold enough to attempt to teach me
that.’” A challenge ensued; but before the antagonists
met, the affair was submitted to the consideration of a
council of the cadets, and it was determined that the one
should practise the horn at a greater distance, and that
the other should be more accommodating.
In the campaign of 1814, the Emperor again met his
horn-player in the neighbourhood of Soissons or Laon:
he was residing on his estate, and gave some important
information respecting the enemy’s position. The Emperor
made him one of his aides-de-camp; this officer
was Colonel Bussy.
85When attached to his artillery-regiment, Napoleon
seized every opportunity of mingling in company, where
he invariably made an agreeable impression. Women at
that time attached a high value to wit in the other sex;
it was a quality which never failed to win their good
graces. Napoleon, at this period, performed what he
termed his Sentimental Journey from Valence to Mont-Cenis
in Burgundy, and he intended to write an account
of it after the manner of Sterne. The faithful Desmazzis
was of the party: he was constantly with him, and his
narrative of Napoleon’s private life, if combined with the
details of his public career, would form a perfect history
of the Emperor. It would then be seen that, however
extraordinary his life might be with respect to its incidents,
yet nothing could be more simple or natural than
its course.
Circumstances and reflection have considerably modified
his character. Even his style of expression, now so
concise and laconic, was in his youth diffuse and emphatic.
At the time of the Legislative Assembly, Napoleon
assumed a serious and severe demeanour, and became
less communicative than before. The army of Italy also
marked another epoch in his character. His extreme
youth, when he went to take the command of the army,
rendered it necessary that he should evince great reserve,
and the utmost strictness of morals. “This was indispensably
necessary,” said he, “to enable me to command
men so much above me in point of age. I pursued a line
of conduct truly irreproachable and exemplary. I proved
myself a sort of Cato. I must have appeared such in
the eyes of all. I was a philosopher and a sage.” In
this character he appeared on the theatre of the world.
Napoleon was in garrison at Valence when the Revolution
broke out. At that time it was made a point of
particular importance to induce the artillery-officers to
emigrate; and the officers, on their part, were very much
divided in opinion. Napoleon, who was thoroughly imbued
with the notions of the age, possessing a natural
instinct for great actions and a passion for national glory,
espoused the cause of the Revolution; and his example
influenced the majority of the regiment. He was an ardent
86patriot under the Constituent Assembly; but the
Legislative Assembly marked a new period in his ideas
and opinions.
He was at Paris on the 21st of June, 1792, and witnessed
the insurrection of the people of the Faubourgs,
who traversed the garden of the Tuileries, and forced the
palace. There were but 6000 men; a mere disorderly
mob, whose language and dress proved them to belong
to the very lowest class of society.
Napoleon was also a witness of the events of the 10th
of August, in which the assailants were neither higher
in rank nor more formidable in number.
In 1793, Napoleon was in Corsica, where he had a
command in the National Guards. He opposed Paoli,
as soon as he was led to suspect that the veteran, to
whom he had hitherto been so much attached, entertained
the design of betraying the island to the English. Therefore
it is not true, as it has been generally reported, that
Napoleon, or one of his family, was at one time in England,
proposing to raise a Corsican regiment for the
English service.
The English and Paoli subdued the Corsican patriots,
and burnt Ajaccio. The house of the Buonapartes was
destroyed in the general conflagration, and the family
was obliged to fly to the Continent. They fixed their
abode at Marseilles, whence Napoleon proceeded to Paris.
He arrived just at the moment when the federalists of
Marseilles had surrendered Toulon to the English.
September 1st—6th. On the 1st of September we
found from our latitude that we should see the Cape Verd
87Islands in the course of the day. The sky was, however,
overcast, and at night we could see nothing. The Admiral,
convinced that there was a mistake in the reckoning
of our longitude, was preparing to bear westward to
the right, in order to fall in with the islands, when a
brig, which was ahead of us, intimated by a signal that
she had discovered them on the left. During the night
the wind blew violently from the south-east, and if our
mistake had been the reverse of what it was, and the
Admiral had really borne to the right, it is not improbable
that we should have been thrown out of our
course; a proof that, notwithstanding the improvements
in science, mistakes are very apt to take place, and that
the chances of navigation are very great. As the wind
continued to blow strong, and the sea was boisterous,
the Admiral preferred continuing his course, rather than
waiting to take in water, of which he believed he had
already a sufficient store. Every thing now promised a
prosperous passage; we were already very far advanced
on our course. Every circumstance continued favourable;
the weather was mild, and we might even have thought
our voyage agreeable, had it been undertaken in the
pursuit of our own plans and in conformity with our own
inclinations: but how could we forget our past misfortunes,
or close our eyes on the future?——
Occupation alone could enable us to support the languor
and tedium of our days. I had undertaken to
teach my son English; and the Emperor, to whom I
mentioned the progress he was making, expressed a wish
to learn also. I endeavoured to form a very simple
plan for his instruction, in order to save him trouble.
This did very well for two or three days; but the ennui
occasioned by the study was at least equal to that which
it was intended to counteract, and the English was laid
aside. The Emperor occasionally reproached me with
having discontinued my lessons: I replied that I had
the medicine ready, if he had the courage to take it. In
other respects, particularly before the English, his manners
and habits were always the same: never did a
murmur or a wish escape his lips; he invariably appeared
contented, patient, and good-humoured.
88The admiral, who, on account of our reputation, I
suppose, had assumed great stiffness, on our departure
from England, gradually laid aside his reserve, and
every day took greater interest in his captive. He represented
the danger incurred by coming on deck after
dinner, owing to the damp of the evening; the Emperor
would then sometimes take his arm and prolong the
conversation, which never failed to gratify him exceedingly.
I have been assured that the Admiral carefully
noted down every particular that he could collect. If
this be true, the remarks which the Emperor one day
made, during dinner, on naval affairs—on the French
resources in the south; those which he had already
created, and those which he contemplated; and on the
ports and harbours of the Mediterranean: to all of which
the Admiral listened with deep attention, and as if fearful
of interruption—will compose a chapter truly valuable
to a seaman.
I will now return to the details collected during our
ordinary conversation. The following relate to the
siege of Toulon.
In September 1793, Napoleon Buonaparte, then in
his twenty-fourth year, was yet unknown to the world
which was destined to resound with his name. He was
a lieutenant-colonel of artillery, and had been only a few
weeks in Paris; having left Corsica, where political
events had forced him to yield to the faction of Paoli.
The English had taken possession of Toulon; an experienced
artillery-officer was wanting to direct the operations
of the siege, and Napoleon was fixed on. There
will history take him up, never more to leave him;—there
commences his immortality.
I refer to the Memoirs of the Campaign of Italy for
the plan of attack which he adopted, and the manner in
which that plan was carried into effect. It will there be
seen that it was he, and he alone, who took the fortress.
This was a great triumph, no doubt: but to appreciate
it justly, it would be necessary to compare the plan of
the attack with the account of the evacuation; the one
is the literal prediction, and the other is the fulfilment
word for word. From this moment the young commander
89of artillery enjoyed the highest reputation. The
Emperor never looks back to this period without pleasure,
and always mentions it as the happiest portion of his
life. The taking of Toulon was his first successful
achievement, and it naturally excites the fondest recollections.
The history of the campaign of Italy will present
a faithful picture of the three generals-in-chief who
succeeded each other during the siege: the inconceivable
ignorance of Cartaux, the gloomy brutality of Doppet,
and the honest courage of Dugommier. Of them I shall
here say nothing.
At the first breaking out of the Revolution, there was
nothing but disorder in the matériel and ignorance in
the personnel of the French army, which was owing both
to the confusion of the times and the rapidity and irregularity
with which the promotions had been made. The
following story will afford an idea of the state of affairs
and of the manners of the time:—
On his arrival at head-quarters, Napoleon waited on
General Cartaux, a fine figure, covered with gold lace
from head to foot, who asked him what duty he had
been sent upon. The young officer modestly presented
the letter which directed him to superintend, under the
general’s command, the operations of the artillery.
“This was quite unnecessary,” said the fine-looking
man, twirling his whiskers; “we want no assistance to
retake Toulon: however, you are welcome, and you
may share the glory of burning the town to-morrow,
without having experienced any of the fatigue.” And
he made him stay to sup with him.
A party of thirty sat down to table; the general
alone was served like a prince, while every one else was
dying of hunger; a circumstance which, in those days of
equality, strangely shocked the new guest. The next
morning, at break of day, the general took him out in
his cabriolet, to admire, as he said, the preparations for
attack. As soon as he had crossed the height, and come
within sight of the roads, they got out of the carriage,
and entered some vineyards by the road side. The commandant
of artillery then perceived some pieces of ordnance,
and some digging, for which it was literally impossible
90for him in the slightest degree to account.
“Dupas,” said the general haughtily, turning to his aide-de-camp,
his confidential man, “are those our batteries?”—“Yes,
general.”—“And our park?” “There, close at
hand.”—“And our red-hot balls?”—“In yonder houses,
where two companies have been employed all the morning
in heating them.”—“But how shall we be able to
carry these red-hot balls?” This consideration seemed
to puzzle them both completely, and they turned to the
officer of artillery, and begged to know whether, through
his scientific knowledge, he could not explain how the
thing was to be managed. Napoleon, who would have
been very much tempted to take the whole for a hoax,
had his interrogators evinced less simplicity, for they
were more than a league and a half from the object of
attack, summoned to his aid all the gravity he was master
of, and endeavoured to persuade them, before they
troubled themselves about red-hot balls, to try the
range of the shot with cold ones. After a great deal of
trouble, he at length prevailed on them to follow his
advice, but not till he had very luckily made use of the
technical term coup d’épreuve, (proof-shot,) which took
their fancy, and brought them over to his opinion. They
then made the experiment, but the shot did not reach to
a third of the distance required: and the general and
Dupas began to abuse the Marseillais and the Aristocrats
who had, they said, maliciously spoiled the powder. In
the mean time the representative of the people came up
on horseback: this was Gasparin, an intelligent man,
who had served in the army.—Napoleon, perceiving how
things were going on, and boldly deciding on the course
he meant to pursue, immediately assumed great confidence
of manner, and urged the representative to intrust
him with the whole direction of the affair. He exposed,
without hesitation, the unparalleled ignorance of all who
were about him, and from that moment took upon himself
the entire direction of the siege.
Cartaux was a man of such limited intellect that it
was impossible to make him understand that, to facilitate
the taking of Toulon, it would be necessary to make the
attack at the outlet of the road. When the commandant
91of artillery sometimes pointed to this outlet on the
map, and told him there was Toulon, Cartaux suspected
he knew very little of geography; and when, in spite of
his opposition, the authority of the representative decided
on the adoption of this distant point of attack, the general
was haunted by the idea of treasonable designs, and
he would often remark, with great uneasiness, that Toulon
did not lie in that direction.
Cartaux wanted one day to oblige the commandant
to erect a battery, with the rear of the guns so close
against the front of a house as to leave no room for the
recoil. On another occasion, on his return from the morning
parade, he sent for the commandant to tell him
that he had just discovered a position, from which a battery
of from six to twelve pieces would infallibly carry
Toulon in a few days: it was a little hillock which
would command three or four forts and several points of
the town. He was enraged at the refusal of the commandant
of artillery, who observed to him that, although
the battery commanded every point, it was itself commanded
by every point; that the twelve guns would
have one hundred and fifty to oppose them; and that
simple subtraction would suffice to show him his disadvantage.
The commandant of the engineer department
was called on for his opinion, and, as he concurred without
hesitation in that of the commandant of artillery,
Cartaux said that it was impossible to do any thing with
those learned corps, as they all went hand-in-hand. At
length, to put a stop to difficulties which were continually
recurring, the representative decided that Cartaux
should communicate to the commandant of artillery his
general plan of attack, and that the latter should execute
the details, according to the rules of his department.
The following was Cartaux’s memorable plan:—“The
general of artillery shall batter Toulon during three days,
at the expiration of which time I will attack it with three
columns, and carry it.”
At Paris, however, the engineer committee found this
summary measure much more humorous than wise, and
it was one of the causes which led to Cartaux’s recal.
There was indeed no want of plans; for, the retaking of
92Toulon having been proposed as a subject for competition
in the popular societies, plans poured in from all
quarters. Napoleon says he must have received at least
six hundred during the siege. It was to the representative
Gasparin that Napoleon was indebted for the
triumph of his plan (that which took Toulon) over the
objections of the Committees of the Convention. He
preserved a grateful recollection of this circumstance:
it was Gasparin, he used to say, who had first opened
his career.[16]
In all the disputes between Cartaux and the commandant
of artillery, which usually took place in the presence
of the general’s wife, the latter uniformly took the part
of the officer of artillery, saying, with great naïveté to
her husband, “Let the young man alone, he knows more
about it than you do, for he never asks your advice;
besides, it is you who are to give the account: the glory
will be yours.”
This woman was not without some share of good
sense. On her return to Paris, after the recal of her
husband, the jacobins of Marseilles gave a splendid fête
in honour of the disgraced family. In the course of the
evening the conversation happened to fall on the commandant
of artillery, who was enthusiastically praised.
“Do not reckon on him,” said she; “that young man
has too much understanding to remain long a sans-culotte.”
On which the general exclaimed, with the
voice of a Stentor, “Wife Cartaux, would you make us
all out to be fools then?” “No, I do not say that, my
dear; but ... I must tell you, he is not one of your
sort.”
One day, at head quarters, a superb carriage arrived
from the Paris road; it was followed by a second, and a
third; and at length no fewer than fifteen appeared. It
93may be imagined how great was the astonishment and
curiosity occasioned by such a circumstance in those
times of republican simplicity. The grand monarque
himself could not have travelled with greater pomp.
The whole cavalcade had been procured by a requisition
in the capital; several of the carriages had belonged to
the Court. About sixty soldiers, of fine appearance,
alighted from them, and inquired for the General-in-chief;
they marched up to him with the important air
of ambassadors:—“Citizen General,” said the orator
of the party, “we come from Paris; the patriots are indignant
at your inactivity and delay. The soil of the
Republic has long been violated; she is enraged to think
that the insult still remains unavenged: she asks, why
is Toulon not yet retaken? Why is the English fleet
not yet destroyed? In her indignation, she has appealed
to her brave sons; we have obeyed her summons, and
burn with impatience to fulfil her expectation. We are
volunteer gunners from Paris: furnish us with arms, to-morrow
we will march upon the enemy.” The General,
disconcerted at this address, turned to the commandant
of artillery, who promised, in a whisper, to rid him of
these heroes next morning. They were well received,
and at day-break the commandant of artillery led them to
the sea-shore, and put some guns at their disposal. Astonished
to find themselves exposed from head to foot,
they asked whether there was no shelter or epaulement.
They were told that all those things were out of fashion;
that patriotism had abolished them. Meanwhile, an
English frigate fired a broadside, and put all the braggadocios
to flight. There was but one cry throughout
the camp; some openly fled, and the rest quietly mingled
with the besiegers.
Disorder and anarchy now prevailed. Dupas, the factotum
of the General-in-chief, a man of no ability, made
himself busy, and was continually meddling with the artillery-men
in the arrangement of their field-train and
batteries. A plan was formed to get rid of him. They
turned him into ridicule, and urged each other on till
they became very vehement in their jokes. On a sudden
Dupas appeared among them with all his usual confidence,
94giving orders and making inquiries about every thing he
saw. He received uncivil answers, and high words arose.
The tumult spread on every side; cries of l’aristocrate
and la lanterne were echoed from every mouth; and
Dupas clapped both spurs to his horse, and never returned
to annoy them.
The commandant of artillery was to be seen every
where. His activity and knowledge gave him a decided
influence over the rest of the army. Whenever the
enemy attempted to make a sortie, or compelled the
besiegers to have recourse to rapid and unexpected
movements, the heads of columns and detachments were
always sure to exclaim, “Run to the commandant of
artillery, and ask him what we are to do; he understands
the localities better than any one.” This advice
was uniformly adopted without a murmur. He did not
spare himself; he had several horses killed under him,
and received from an Englishman a bayonet-wound in
his left thigh, which for a short time, threatened to
require amputation.
Being one day in a battery where one of the gunners
was killed, he seized the rammer, and, with his own
hands, loaded ten or twelve times. A few days afterwards
he was attacked with a violent cutaneous disease.
No one could conceive where he had caught it, until
Muiron, his adjutant, discovered that the dead gunner
had been infected with it. In the ardour of youth and
the activity of service, the commandant of artillery was
satisfied with slight remedies, and the disorder disappeared;
but the poison had only entered the deeper into
his system, it long affected his health, and well nigh
cost him his life. From this disorder proceeded the
meagreness, the feebleness of body, and sickly complexion,
which characterized the General-in-chief of the
army of Italy and of the army of Egypt.
It was not till a much later period, at the Tuileries,
that Corvisart succeeded, by the application of numerous
blisters on his chest, in restoring him to perfect health;
and it was then that he acquired the corpulence for which
he has since been remarked.
From being the commandant of artillery in the army
95of Toulon, Napoleon might have become general-in-chief
before the close of the siege. The very day of
the attack on Little Gibraltar, General Dugommier,
who had delayed it for some days, wished to delay it
still longer; about three or four o’clock in the afternoon,
the Representatives sent for Napoleon: they were dissatisfied
with Dugommier, particularly on account of his
delay; they wished to deprive him of the command, and
to transfer it to the chief of the artillery, who declined
accepting it. Napoleon went to the General, whom he
esteemed and loved, informed him of what had occurred,
and persuaded him to decide on the attack. About
eight or nine in the evening, when all the preparations
were completed, and just as the attack was about to
commence, a change took place in the state of affairs,
and the Representatives countermanded the attack.
Dugommier, however, still influenced by the commandant
of artillery, persisted: had he failed, he must have
forfeited his head. Such was the course of affairs and
the justice of the times.
The notes which the committees of Paris found in
the office of the artillery department, respecting Napoleon,
first called their attention to his conduct at the
siege of Toulon. They saw that, in spite of his youth
and the inferiority of his rank, as soon as he appeared
there, he was master.—This was the natural effect of
the ascendancy of knowledge, activity, and energy, over
the ignorance and confusion of the moment. He was,
in fact, the conqueror of Toulon, and yet he is scarcely
named in the official despatches. He was in possession
of the town before the army had scarcely dreamt of it.
After taking Little Gibraltar, which he always looked
upon as the key of the whole enterprise, he said to old
Dugommier, who was worn out with fatigue,—“Go and
rest yourself—we have taken Toulon—you may sleep
there the day after to-morrow.” When Dugommier
found the thing actually accomplished—when he reflected
that the young commandant of artillery had always
foretold exactly what would happen, he became all
enthusiasm and admiration; he was never tired of praising
him. It is perfectly true, as some of the publications
96of the period relate, that Dugommier informed the
Committees of Paris that he had with him a young man
who merited particular notice; for that, whichever side
he might adopt, he was certainly destined to throw great
weight into the balance. When Dugommier joined
the Army of the Eastern Pyrenees, he wished to take
with him the young commandant of artillery; but this
he was unable to do. He, however, spoke of him incessantly:
and, at a subsequent period, when this same
army was, on the conclusion of peace with Spain, sent
to re-inforce the army of Italy, of which Napoleon soon
after became general-in-chief, he found on his arrival,
that in consequence of all Dugommier had said of him,
the officers had, to use his own expression, scarcely eyes
enough to look at him.
With regard to Napoleon, his success at Toulon did
not much astonish him; he enjoyed it, he says, with a
lively satisfaction, unmingled with surprise. He was
equally happy the following year at Saorgio, where his
operations were admirable: he accomplished in a few
days what had been attempted in vain for two years.
“Vendemiaire, and even Montenotte,” said the Emperor,
“never induced me to look upon myself as a man
of a superior class; it was not till after Lodi that I was
struck with the possibility of my becoming a decisive
actor on the scene of political events. It was then that
the first spark of my ambition was kindled.” He, however,
mentioned that, subsequently to Vendemiaire, during
his command of the Army of the Interior, he drew
up the plan of a campaign which was to terminate by
a treaty of peace on the summit of the Simmering,
which plan he shortly afterwards carried into execution
at Leoben. It is, perhaps, still to be found in the
official archives. The well-known fury of the times was
still farther increased under the walls of Toulon, by the
assembling of two hundred deputies from the neighbouring
popular associations, who had proceeded thither
for the purpose of instigating the most atrocious measures.
To them must be attributed the excesses which
were then committed, and of which the whole army
complained. When Napoleon afterwards rose to distinction,
97attempts were made to throw the odium of
these atrocities on him. “It would be a degradation,”
said the Emperor, “to think of replying to such calumnies.”
As soon as Napoleon took the command of the artillery
at Toulon, he availed himself of the necessity of
circumstances to procure the return of many of his old
companions, who had, at first, left the service on account
of their birth or political principles. He obtained the
appointment of Col. Gassendi to the command of the
arsenal of Marseilles. The obstinacy and severity of
this man are well known: they frequently placed him
in danger: it more than once required all Napoleon’s
vigilance and care to save him from the effects of the
irritation which his conduct excited.
The ascendancy which Napoleon had acquired, through
his services, in the port and arsenal of Toulon, afforded
him the means of saving several unfortunate members
of the emigrant family of Chabriant, or Chabrillan, who
had been overtaken by storms at sea, and driven on the
French shore. They were about to be put to death, for
the law was decisive against emigrants who might return
to France. They urged, in their defence, that their
return had been purely the effect of accident, and was
contrary to their own wishes; the only favour they solicited
was to be permitted to depart; but all was vain:
they would have perished, had not the Commandant of
the Artillery hazarded his own safety, and procured for
them a covered boat, which he sent off from the French
coast under the pretence of business relative to his department.
During the reign of Napoleon, these individuals
took an opportunity of expressing their gratitude
to him, and informing him that they had carefully
preserved the order which saved their lives.
Napoleon was himself, at various times, exposed to
the fury of revolutionary assassins.—Whenever he established
a new battery, the numerous patriotic deputations,
who were at the camp, solicited the honour of
having it named after them. Napoleon named one ‘the
battery of the Patriots of the South:’ this was a sufficient
ground for his being denounced and accused of
98federalism; and had he been a less useful person, he
would have been put under arrest, or, in other words,
he would have been sacrificed. In short, language is
inadequate to describe the frenzy and horror of the
times. For instance, the Emperor told us that, while
engaged in fortifying the coasts at Marseilles, he was a
witness to the horrible condemnation of the merchant
Hugues, a man of eighty-four years of age, deaf and
nearly blind. In spite of his age and infirmities, his
atrocious executioners pronounced him guilty of conspiracy:
his real crime was his being worth eighteen
millions. This he was himself aware of, and he offered
to surrender his wealth to the tribunal, provided he
might be allowed to retain five hundred thousand francs,
which, he said, he should not live long to enjoy. But
this proposition was rejected, and his head was cut off.
“At this sight,” said Napoleon, “I thought the world
was at an end!” an expression he was accustomed to
employ on any extraordinary occasion. Barras and
Fréron were the authors of these atrocities. The Emperor
did Robespierre the justice to say that he had
seen long letters written by him to his brother, Robespierre
the younger, who was then a representative with
the army of the South, in which he warmly opposed and
disclaimed these excesses, declaring that they would
disgrace and ruin the Revolution.
Napoleon, when at Toulon, formed friendships with
many individuals, who subsequently became very celebrated.
He distinguished in the train a young officer,
whose talents he had at first much difficulty in cultivating,
but from whom he afterwards derived the greatest
services: this was Duroc, who, with a very unprepossessing
person, was endowed with talent of the most
solid and useful kind: he loved the Emperor for himself,
was devoted to his interests, and at the same time
knew how to tell him the truth at proper seasons. He
was afterwards created Duke de Frioul and Grand Marshal
of the Palace. He placed the Imperial household
on an excellent footing, and preserved the most perfect
order. At his death, the Emperor thought he had sustained
an irreparable loss, and many other persons were
99of the same opinion. The Emperor told me that Duroc
was the only man who had possessed his intimacy and
entire confidence.
During the erection of one of the first batteries
which Napoleon, on his arrival at Toulon, directed
against the English, he asked whether there was a serjeant,
or corporal, present who could write. A man
advanced from the ranks, and wrote by his dictation on
the epaulement. The note was scarcely ended, when a
cannon ball which had been fired in the direction of the
battery, fell near the spot, and the paper was immediately
covered by the loose earth thrown up by the ball.
“Well,” said the writer, “I shall have no need of
sand.” This remark, together with the coolness with
which it was made, fixed the attention of Napoleon, and
made the fortune of the serjeant. This man was Junot,
afterwards Duke of Abrantes, colonel-general of the
Hussars, commandant in Portugal, and governor-general
in Illyria, where he evinced signs of mental alienation,
which increased on his return to France, where he
wounded himself in a horrible way. He died the victim
of the intemperance which destroyed both his health
and his reason.
Napoleon, on being created General of Artillery, and
Commandant of that department in the Army of Italy,
carried thither all the superiority and influence which he
had acquired before Toulon; still, however, he experienced
reverses, and even dangers. He was put under
arrest for a short time at Nice, by the representative
Laporte, because he refused to crouch to his authority.
Another representative pronounced sentence of outlawry
upon him, because he would not suffer him to employ
all his artillery-horses for the posting service. Finally,
a decree, which was never executed, summoned him to
the bar of the Convention, for having proposed certain
military measures relative to the fortifications at Marseilles.
When attached to the Army of Nice or of Italy, he
became a great favourite with the representative Robespierre
the younger, whom he described as possessing
qualities very different from his brother: the latter Napoleon
100never saw. Robespierre the younger, on being
recalled to Paris by his brother, some time before the 9th
of Thermidor, exerted every endeavour to prevail on
Napoleon to accompany him. “If I had not firmly
resisted,” observed the Emperor, “who knows whither
this first step might have led me, and for what a different
destiny I might have been reserved?”
At the Army of Nice, there was another Representative,
an insignificant man. His wife, who was an extremely
pretty and fascinating woman, shared and even
usurped his authority; she was a native of Versailles.
Both husband and wife paid great attention to the General
of artillery; they became extremely fond of him, and
treated him in the handsomest manner. This was a
great advantage to the young General, for, at that time,
during the absence or the inefficiency of the laws, a
representative of the people was a man of immense
power.
The individual here alluded to was one of those who,
in the Convention, most contributed to bring Napoleon
into notice, at the crisis of Vendemiaire: this was the
natural consequence of the deep impressions produced by
the character and capacity of the young General.
The Emperor relates that, after he had ascended the
throne, he again saw his old acquaintance the fair representative
of Nice. She was so much altered as to be
scarcely recognisable; her husband was dead, and she
was reduced to extreme indigence. The Emperor readily
granted every thing she solicited: “He realized,”
he said, “all her dreams, and even went beyond them.”
Although she lived at Versailles, many years had elapsed
before she succeeded in gaining access to him. Letters,
petitions, solicitations of every description had proved
unavailing: “So difficult it is,” said the Emperor, “to
reach the sovereign, even when he does not wish to deny
himself.” At length, one day when he was on a hunting
excursion at Versailles, Napoleon happened to
mention this lady to Berthier, who was also a native of
that place, and had known her in her youth; and he,
who had never yet deigned to mention her, and still less
to regard her petitions, on the following day presented
101her to the sovereign. “But why did you not get introduced
to me through our mutual acquaintances in the
Army of Nice?” inquired the Emperor: “many of
them are now great men, and are on a constant footing
of intimacy with me.” “Alas! sire,” replied she, “our
acquaintance ceased when they became great, and I was
overtaken by misfortune.”
The Emperor one day communicated to me some details
respecting this old friendship:—“I was,” said he,
“very young when I first knew this lady; I was proud
of the favourable impression I had made on her, and
seized every opportunity of shewing her all the attention
in my power. I will mention one circumstance, to shew
how authority is sometimes abused, and on what men’s
fate may depend: for I am no worse than the rest. I
was walking one day with the Representative’s wife,
inspecting our positions in the vicinity of the Col di
Tende, when I suddenly took it into my head to give her
an idea of an engagement, and, for this purpose, ordered
the attack of an advanced post. We were conquerors,
it is true; but the affair could be attended by no advantage.
The attack was a mere whim, and yet it cost the
lives of several men. I have never failed to reproach
myself whenever I look back on this affair.”
The events of Thermidor having produced a change
in the Committees of the Convention, Aubry, formerly a
captain of artillery, was appointed to direct the Committee
of War, and he re-modelled the army. He did
not forget himself; he promoted himself to the rank of
general of artillery, and favoured several of his old comrades,
to the injury of the inferior officers, whom he dismissed.
Napoleon, who was at this time scarcely
twenty-five years of age, became a general of infantry,
and he was chosen for the service of La Vendée. This
circumstance induced him to quit the Army of Italy, in
order to protest earnestly against the change, which, on
every account, was unsatisfactory to him. Finding
Aubry inflexible, and even offended at his just representations,
he gave in his resignation. Only a short time
elapsed before he was again employed in the Topographical
Committee, by which the movements of the army and
102the plans of the campaigns were arranged: he was thus
engaged at the period of the 13th of Vendemiaire.
Napoleon’s expostulation with Aubry on the subject of
his new appointment formed a perfect scene: he insisted
vehemently, because he had facts to bear him out; Aubry
was obstinate and bitter, because he had power in his
hands. He told Napoleon that he was too young, and
that he must let older men go before him; Napoleon
replied that a soldier soon grew old on the field of
battle, and that he had just come from it. Aubry had
never been in any engagement. They came to very
high words.
I informed the Emperor that, on returning from my
emigration, I occupied for a considerable time, in the
Rue Saint Florentin, the identical apartment in which
this scene took place. I had frequently heard it spoken
of; and though it was described by unfriendly tongues,
each, nevertheless, took great interest in relating the
details, and in trying to guess the part of the room in
which any particular gesture was made, or any remarkable
word spoken.
The history of the famous day of Vendemiaire, which
had so important an influence on the fate of the Revolution
and of Napoleon, will shew that he hesitated for
some time before he undertook the defence of the Convention.
On the night succeeding that day, Napoleon presented
himself to the Committee of Forty, which was established
at the Tuileries. He wanted to procure mortars and
ammunition from Meudon; but such was the circumspection
of the President (Cambacéres) that, in spite of
the dangers which had marked the day, he refused to
sign the order; and merely, by way of accommodating
the matter, requested that the guns and ammunition
might be placed at the disposal of the General.
During his command of Paris, subsequently to the
13th of Vendemiaire, Napoleon had to encounter a great
scarcity, which occasioned several popular commotions.
One day when the usual distribution had not taken place,
crowds of people collected round the bakers’ shops. Napoleon
was parading about the city with a party of his
103staff to preserve public tranquillity. A crowd of persons,
chiefly women, assembled round him, loudly calling
for bread. The crowd augmented, the outcries increased,
and the situation of Napoleon and his officers became
critical. A woman, of monstrous size and corpulence,
was particularly conspicuous by her gestures and exclamations.
“Those fine epauletted fellows,” said she,
pointing to the officers, “laugh at our distress: so long
as they can eat and grow fat, they care not if the poor
people die of hunger.” Napoleon turned to her, and
said, “Good woman, look at me; which is fatter, you
or I?” Napoleon was at that time extremely thin: “I
was a mere slip of parchment,” said he. A general
burst of laughter disarmed the fury of the populace, and
the staff-officers continued their round.
The narrative of the thirteenth of Vendemiaire shews
how Napoleon became acquainted with Madame de
Beauharnais, and how he contracted the marriage which
has been so greatly misrepresented in the accounts of
the time. As soon as he got introduced to Madame de
Beauharnais, he spent almost every evening at her house,
which was frequented by the most agreeable company
in Paris. When the majority of the party retired, there
usually remained M. de Montesquiou, the father of the
Grand Chamberlain; the Duke de Nivernois, so celebrated
for the graces of his wit; and a few others. They
used to look round to see that the doors were all shut,
and they would then say, “Let us sit down and chat
about the old court; let us make a tour to Versailles.”
The poverty of the treasury and the scarcity of specie
were so great, during the Republic, that, on the departure
of General Buonaparte for the army of Italy, all his
efforts, joined to those of the Directory, could only succeed
in raising 2000 louis, which he carried with him
in his carriage. With this sum he set out to conquer
Italy, and to march towards the empire of the world.
The following is a curious fact: an order of the day
was published, signed Berthier, directing the General-in-chief,
on his arrival at the head-quarters at Nice, to
distribute to the different generals, to enable them to
enter on the campaign, the sum of four louis in specie.
104For a considerable time no such thing as specie had
been seen. This order of the day displays the circumstances
of the times more truly and faithfully than whole
volumes written on the subject.
As soon as Napoleon joined the army, he proved himself
to be a man born for command. From that moment
he filled the theatre of the world;[17] he occupied all
Europe; he was a meteor blazing in the firmament; he
concentrated all attention, riveted all thoughts, and
formed the subject of all conversations. From that time
every Gazette, every publication, every monument, became
the record of his deeds. His name was inscribed
in every page and in every line, and echoed from every
mouth.
On his appearance in the command, a total revolution
was observed in his manners, conduct, and language.
Decrès has often told me that he was at Toulon when he
first heard of Napoleon’s appointment to the command
of the army of Italy. He had known him well in Paris,
and thought himself on terms of perfect familiarity with
him. “Thus,” said he, “when we learned that the new
General was about to pass through the city, I immediately
proposed to all my comrades to introduce them to
105him, priding myself on my intimacy with him. I
hastened to him, full of eagerness and joy; the door of
the apartment was thrown open, and I was on the point
of rushing towards him with my wonted familiarity, but
his attitude, his look, the tone of his voice, suddenly deterred
me. There was nothing offensive either in his
appearance or manner; but the impression he produced
was sufficient to prevent me from ever again attempting
to encroach upon the distance that separated us.”
Napoleon’s generalship was, moreover, characterized
by the skill, energy, and purity of his military administration;
his constant hatred of peculation of any kind,
and his total disregard of his own private interest.
“When I returned from the campaign of Italy,” said he,
“I had not 300,000 francs in my possession. I might
easily have brought back 10 or 12 millions; that sum
might have been mine. I never made out any accounts,
nor was I ever asked for any. I expected on my return
to receive some great national reward. It was publicly
reported that Chambord was to be given to me, and I
should have been very glad to have had it: but the idea
was set aside by the Directory. I had, however, transmitted
to France at least 50,000,000 for the service of
the State. This I imagine, was the first instance in modern
history of an army contributing to maintain the
country to which it belonged, instead of being a burthen
on it.”
When Napoleon was in treaty with the Duke de Modena,
Salicetti, the Government Commissary with the army,
who had hitherto been on indifferent terms with him,
entered his cabinet.—“The Commander d’Este,” said he,
“the Duke’s brother, is here with four millions in gold,
contained in four chests. He comes in the name of his
brother to beg of you to accept them, and I advise you
to do so. I am a countryman of yours, and I know
your family affairs. The Directory and the Legislative
Body will never acknowledge your services. This money
belongs to you; take it without scruple and without
publicity. A proportionate diminution will be made in
the Duke’s contribution, and he will be very glad to have
gained a protector.”—“I thank you,” coolly answered
106Napoleon: “I shall not for that sum place myself in the
power of the Duke de Modena:—I wish to continue
free.”
A Commissary-in-chief of the same army used often to
relate that he had witnessed an offer of seven millions in
gold made in a like manner to Napoleon by the Government
of Venice, to save it from destruction, which offer
was refused.—The Emperor smiled at the transports of
admiration evinced by this financier, to whom the refusal
of his General appeared super-human—an action much
more difficult and noble than the gaining of victories.
The Emperor dwelt with a certain degree of complacency
on these anecdotes of his disinterestedness. He however
observed that he had been in the wrong, and that such
a course of conduct was the most improvident he could
have pursued, whether his intention had been to make
himself the head of a party, and to acquire influence, or
to remain in the station of a private individual; for,
on his return, he found himself almost destitute: and he
might have continued in a career of absolute poverty,
while his inferior generals and commissaries were amassing
large fortunes. “But,” added he, “if my commissary
had seen me accept the bribe, who can tell to
what lengths he might have gone? My refusal was at
least a check upon him.
“When I was placed at the head of affairs, as Consul,
it was only by setting an example of disinterestedness, and
employing the utmost vigilance, that I could succeed in
changing the conduct of the Administration, and putting
a stop to the dreadful spectacle of Directorial peculations.
It cost me an immense deal of trouble to overcome the
inclinations of the first persons in the State, whose conduct,
under me, at length became strict and irreproachable.
I was obliged to keep them constantly in fear.
How often did I not repeat, in my councils, that if my
own brother were found to be in fault, I should not hesitate
to dismiss him!”
No man in the world ever had more wealth at his disposal,
and appropriated less to himself.—Napoleon, according
to his own account, possessed as much as four
hundred millions of specie in the cellars of the Tuileries.
107His extraordinary domain amounted to more than seven
hundred millions. He has said that he distributed upwards
of five hundred millions in endowments to the
army. And, what is very extraordinary, he who circulated
such heaps of wealth, never possessed any private
property of his own! He had collected, in the Museum,
treasures which it was impossible to estimate, and yet he
never had a picture or a curiosity of his own.
On his return from Italy, and on the eve of his departure
for Egypt, he became possessed of Malmaison, and
there he deposited nearly all his property. He purchased
it in the name of his wife, who was older than himself,
and consequently, in case of his surviving her, he must
have forfeited all claim to it. The fact is, as he himself
has said, that he never had a taste or a desire for
riches.
“If I now possess any thing,”[18] continued he, “it is
108owing to measures which have been adopted since my
departure: but even in that case it depended on a hair’s-breadth
chance whether there should be any thing in the
world I might call my own or not. But every one has
his relative ideas. I have a taste for founding, and not
for possessing. My riches consisted in glory and celebrity:
the Simplon and the Louvre were, in the eyes of
the people and of foreigners, more my property than private
domains could have been. I purchased diamonds
for the crown, I repaired and adorned the Imperial palaces;
and I could not help thinking sometimes that the
expenses lavished by Josephine on her green-houses and
her gallery were a real injury to my Jardin des Plantes
and my Musée de Paris.”
On taking the command of the army of Italy, Napoleon,
notwithstanding his extreme youth, immediately
impressed the troops with a spirit of subordination, confidence,
and the most absolute devotedness. The army
was subdued by his genius, rather than seduced by his
popularity: he was in general very severe and reserved.
During the whole course of his life he has uniformly
disdained to court the favour of the multitude by unworthy
means; perhaps he has even carried this feeling
to an extent which may have been injurious to him. A
singular custom was established in the army of Italy, in
consequence of the youth of the commander, or from
some other cause.—After each battle, the eldest soldiers
used to hold a council, and confer a new rank on their
young General, who, when he made his appearance in
the camp, was received by the veterans, and saluted with
his new title. They made him a Corporal at Lodi,
and a Serjeant at Castiglione; and hence the surname
of “Petit Caporal,” which was for a long time applied
to Napoleon by the soldiers. How subtle is the
chain which unites the most trivial circumstances to the
most important events! Perhaps this very nick-name
contributed to his miraculous success on his return in
1091815.—While he was haranguing the first battalion he
met, which he found it necessary to parley with, a voice
from the ranks exclaimed, “Vive notre petit Caporal!Caporal!
we will never fight against him!”
The administration of the Directory, and that of the
General-in-chief of the army of Italy, seemed two distinct
Governments. The Directory in France put the
emigrants to death: the army of Italy never inflicted
capital punishment on any one of them. The Directory,
on learning that Wurmser was besieged in Mantua, went
so far as to write to Napoleon, to remind him that he
was an emigrant; but Napoleon, on making him prisoner,
eagerly sought to render an affecting homage of
respect to his old age. The Directory adopted the
most insulting forms in communicating with the Pope:
the General of the army of Italy addressed him by the
words “Most Holy Father,” and wrote to him with
respect. The Directory endeavoured to overthrow the
authority of the Pope: Napoleon preserved it. The
Directory banished and proscribed Priests: Napoleon
commanded his soldiers, wherever they might
fall in with them, to remember that they were Frenchmen
and their brothers. The Directory would have
exterminated every vestige of aristocracy; Napoleon
wrote to the democracy of Genoa, blaming their violence;
and did not hesitate to declare that, if the Genoese
attached any value to the preservation of his esteem,
they must learn to respect the statue of Doria, and the
institutions to which they were indebted for their
glory.
7th—9th. We continued our course, and nothing
occurred to interrupt the uniformity which surrounded
us. Our days were all alike; the correctness of my
journal alone informed me of the day of the week or of
the month. Fortunately my time was employed, and
therefore the day usually slipped on with a certain degree
of facility. The materials which I collected in the
110afternoon conversation employed me so as to leave no
idle time until next day.
Meanwhile the Emperor observed that I was very
much occupied, and he even suspected the subject on
which I was engaged. He determined to ascertain the
fact, and obtained sight of a few pages of my journal:
he was not displeased with it. Having alluded several
times to the subject, he observed that such a work
would be interesting rather than useful. The military
events, for example, thus detailed in the ordinary course
of conversation, would be meagre, incomplete, and
devoid of end or object: they would be mere anecdotes,
frequently of the most puerile kind, instead of grand
operations and results. I eagerly seized the favourable
opportunity: I entirely concurred in his opinion, and
ventured to suggest the idea of his dictating to me the
campaigns of Italy. “It would,” I observed, “be a
benefit to the country—a true monument of national
glory. Our time is unemployed, our hours are tedious;
occupation will help to divert us, and some moments
may not be devoid of pleasure.” This idea became the
subject of various conversations.
At length the Emperor came to a determination, and
on Saturday, the 9th of September, he called me into
his cabin, and dictated to me, for the first time, some
details respecting the siege of Toulon.
10th—13th. On approaching the Line, we met
with what are called the trade winds, that is to say,
winds blowing constantly from the east. Science explains
this phenomenon in a way sufficiently satisfactory.
When a vessel sailing from Europe first encounters these
winds, they blow from the north-east; in proportion as
the ship approaches the Line, the winds become more
easterly. Calms are generally to be apprehended under
the Line. When the Line is crossed, the winds gradually
change to the south, until they blow in the direction
of the south-east. At length, after passing the tropics,
the trade-winds are lost, and variable winds are met
with, as in our European regions. A ship sailing from
111Europe to St. Helena is always driven in a westerly
direction by these constant easterly winds. It would be
very difficult to gain that island by a direct course; and,
indeed, this is never attempted. The ship stands away
to the variable winds in the southern latitude, and then
shapes her course towards the Cape of Good Hope, so
as to fall in with the trade-winds from the south-east,
which bring her, with the wind astern, to St. Helena.
Two different courses are taken to gain the variable
winds of the southern latitudes; the one is to cross the
Line about the 20th or 24th degree of longitude, reckoning
from the meridian of London: those who prefer
this course affirm that it is less exposed to the equatorial
calms, and that, though it frequently has the disadvantage
of carrying the vessel within sight of Brazil,
yet it enables her to make that part of her voyage in a
short time. Admiral Cockburn, who was inclined to
regard this course as a prejudice and a routine, determined
in favour of the second method, which consisted
in steering more to the east; and, following particular
examples with which he was acquainted, he
endeavoured to cross the Line about the 2nd or 3rd
degrees of longitude. He doubted not that, standing
towards the variable winds, he should pass sufficiently
near St. Helena to shorten his passage considerably,
even if he should not succeed in reaching the island by
tacking without leaving the trade-winds.
The winds, to our great astonishment, veered to the
west, (a circumstance which the Admiral informed us
was more common than we supposed) and this tended to
favour his opinion. He abandoned the bad sailers of
his squadron, in proportion as they lagged behind: and
he determined on gaining the place of his destination
with all possible speed.
14th-18th. After a few slight gales and several
calms, we had on the 16th a considerable fall of rain, to
the great joy of the crew. The heat was very moderate;
it may, indeed, be said that, with the exception of the
112storm at Madeira, we had uniformly enjoyed mild weather.
But water was very scarce on board the ship;
and, for the sake of economy, the crew took advantage
of the opportunity of collecting the rain water, of which
each sailor laid by a little store for his own use. The
rain fell heavily just as the Emperor had got upon deck
to take his afternoon walk. But this did not disappoint
him of his usual exercise; he merely called for his
famous grey great coat, which the English regarded
with deep interest. The Grand Marshal and I attended
the Emperor in his walk. The rain descended heavily
for upwards of an hour; when the Emperor left the
deck, I had great difficulty in stripping off my wet
clothes; almost every thing I wore was soaked through.
For several succeeding days the weather continued
very rainy; this somewhat impeded my labours, for the
damp penetrated into our wretched little cabin; and on
the other hand, it was not very agreeable to walk on
deck. This was the first time during our passage that
we had had any thing like a continuance of wet weather;
and it quite disconcerted us. I filled up the intervals,
between my hours of occupation, in conversing with the
officers of the ship. I was not on intimate terms with
any of them; but I kept up a daily intercourse of civility
and politeness to them all. They loved to talk with us
on French affairs, and their ignorance of all that concerned
France and the French people was almost incredible.
We excited mutual astonishment in each other: they
surprised us by their degenerate political principles, and
we astonished them by our new ideas and manners, of
which they had previously formed no conception. They
certainly knew infinitely less of France than of China.
One of the principal officers of the ship, in a familiar
conversation, happened to say—“I suppose you would
be very much alarmed if we were to land you on the
coast of France?”—“Why so?” I enquired.—“Because,”
replied he, “the King would perhaps make you pay
dearly for having left your country to follow another
Sovereign; and also because you wear a cockade which
he has prohibited.”—“And is this language becoming
an Englishman?” observed I. “You must be degenerate
113indeed! You are, it is true, far removed from the
period of your revolution, to which you so justly apply
the epithet glorious. But we, who are nearer to ours,
by which we have gained so much, may tell you that
every word you say is heresy. In the first place, our
punishment depends not on the King’s pleasure; we are
subject only to the law. Now, there exists no law
against us; and if any law were to be violated for the
purpose of applying to our case, it would be your duty
to protect us. Your general has pledged himself to do
so by the capitulation of Paris; and it would be an eternal
disgrace to the English Ministry were they to permit
the sacrifice of lives which their public faith had
solemnly guaranteed.
“In the next place, we are not following another
sovereign. That the Emperor Napoleon was our
sovereign is an undeniable fact; but he has abdicated,
and his reign is at an end. You are confounding private
actions with party measures; love and devotedness,
with political opinions. Finally, with regard to our
colours, which seem to have dazzled you so much, they
are but a remnant of our old costume. We wear them
to-day, only because we wore them yesterday. One
cannot with indifference lay aside things to which one is
attached; that can only be done from constraint or necessity.
Why did you not deprive us of our colours
when you deprived us of our arms?—the one act would
have been as reasonable as the other. We are here
only as private men; we do not preach sedition. We
cannot deny that these colours are dear to us: we are
attached to them because they have seen us victorious
over all our enemies; because we have paraded them in
triumph through every capital in Europe; and because
we wore them while we were the first nation in the
world.”
On another occasion, one of the officers, after glancing
at the extraordinary vicissitude of recent events,
said—“Who knows whether we may not yet be destined
to repair the misfortunes which we have occasioned
to you? What would be your astonishment if Wellington
should one day conduct Napoleon back to Paris?”—“I
114should be astonished indeed,” I replied: “but I
should certainly decline the honour of being one of the
party: at such a price, I would not hesitate to abandon
Napoleon himself! But I may rest easy on that score;
for I can swear Napoleon will never put me to such a
trial. It is from him I imbibe these sentiments: it was
he who cured me of the contrary doctrine, which I call
the error of my youth.”
The English were very fond of asking us questions
concerning the Emperor, whose character and disposition,
as they afterwards avowed, had been represented
to them in the falsest colours. It was not their fault,
they observed, if they formed an erroneous estimate
of his character: they knew him only through the
works published in England, which were all greatly
exaggerated, and much to his prejudice: they had
several of these publications on board the ship.—One
day I happened to cast my eyes on one of a most
malignant character: on another occasion, when I was
about to look at a book which one of the officers was
reading, he suddenly closed it, observing it was so
violent against the Emperor that he could not prevail
on himself to let me see it. Another time, the Admiral
questioned me respecting certain imputations contained
in different works in his library, some of which he said
enjoyed a degree of credit, while all had produced a
great sensation, in England. This circumstance suggested
to me the idea of successively examining all the
works of this kind that were on board the ship, in order
to note down my opinion of them in my journal—conceiving
that so favourable an opportunity might never
again occur of obtaining, if I chose, information on
those points which it might be worth while to enquire
into.
Before I commence my review of these works, I must
beg to offer a few general remarks: they will suffice to
answer by anticipation many of the numberless accusations
that will fall in my way. Calumny and falsehood
are the arms of the civil or political, the foreign or
domestic enemy. They are the resource of the vanquished
and the feeble, of those who are governed by
115hatred or fear.—They are the food of the drawing-room,
and the garbage of the public place: they rage with the
greater fury in proportion as their object is exalted:
there is nothing which they will not venture to promulgate.
The more absurd, ridiculous, and incredible calumnies
and falsehoods may be, the more eagerly are
they received and repeated from mouth to mouth. Triumph
and success are but fresh causes of irritation: a
moral storm will invariably gather; and, bursting in the
moment of adversity, it will precipitate and complete the
fall, and become the immense lever of public opinion.
No man was ever so much assailed and abused as
Napoleon. No individual was ever the subject of so
many pamphlets, libels, atrocious and absurd stories and
false assertions. Nor could it be otherwise. Napoleon,
risen from the common rank of life to supreme distinction;
advancing at the head of a revolution which he
himself had civilized; plunged by these two circumstances
into a deadly contest with the rest of Europe—a
contest in which he was subdued only because he
wished to terminate it too speedily—Napoleon uniting
in himself the genius, the force, the destiny of his own
power, the conqueror of his neighbours, and, in some
measure, a universal Monarch—a Marius in the eyes of
the aristocrats of Europe, a Sylla for the demagogues, a
Cæsar for the republicans—could not but raise against
himself a hurricane of passions both at home and abroad.
Despair, policy, and fury, in every country, painted
him as an object of detestation and alarm. Thus, all
that has been said against him can excite no astonishment:
it is only surprising that more calumny has not
been uttered, and that it has not produced a much
greater effect. When in the enjoyment of his power,
he never would permit any one to reply to the attacks
that were made upon him. “The pains bestowed on
such answers,” said he, “would only have given additional
weight to the accusations they were intended to
refute. It would have been said that all that was written
in my defence was ordered and paid for. The ill-managed
praise of those by whom I was surrounded had
already, in some instances, been more prejudicial to me
116than all the abuse of which I was the object. Facts
were the most convincing answers. A fine monument,
another good law, or a new triumph, were sufficient to
defeat thousands of such falsehoods. Declamation passes
away, but deeds remain!”
This is unquestionably true with regard to posterity.
The great men of former times are handed down to us
free from the ephemeral accusations of their contemporaries.
But it is not thus during the lifetime of the individual;
and, in 1814, Napoleon was convinced by cruel
experience that even deeds may vanish before the fury
of declamation. At the moment of his fall, he was absolutely
overwhelmed by a torrent of abuse. But it
was reserved for him, whose life had been so fertile in
prodigies, to surmount this adverse stroke of fate, and
almost immediately to arise resplendent from amidst his
own ruins. His miraculous return is certainly unparalleled
both in its execution and its results. The transports
which it called forth penetrated into neighbouring
countries, where prayers for his success were offered up
either publicly or in secret; and he who, in 1814, was
defeated and pursued as the scourge of human nature,
suddenly re-appeared in 1815 as the hope of his fellow-creatures.
Calumny and falsehood in this instance lost their prey
by having overshot their mark. The good sense of mankind
in a great measure rendered justice to Napoleon,
and the abuse that had been heaped upon him would
not be believed now. “Poison lost its effect on Mithridates,”
said the Emperor, as he was the other day
glancing over some new libels upon himself, “and, since
1814, calumny cannot injure me.”
In the universal clamour which was directed against
him when in the enjoyment of his power, England bore
the most conspicuous part.
In England two great machines were maintained in
full activity; the one conducted by the emigrants, for
whom nothing was too bad; and the other under the
control of the English ministers, who had established a
system of defamation, and who had regularly organized
its action and effects. They maintained in their pay
117pamphleteers and libelists in every corner of Europe;
their tasks were marked out to them: and their plans of
attack were regularly laid and combined.
The English ministry multiplied the employment of
these potent engines in England more than elsewhere.
The English, who were more free and enlightened than
other nations, stood the more in need of excitement.
From this system the English ministers derived the two-fold
advantage of rousing public opinion against the
common enemy, and withdrawing attention from their
own conduct by directing popular clamour and indignation
to the character and conduct of others: by this
means their own character and conduct were screened
from that investigation and recrimination which they
might not have found very agreeable. Thus the assassination
of Paul at St. Petersburgh, and of our envoys
in Persia; the seizure of Napper-Tandy in the free city
of Hamburgh; the capture, in time of peace, of two rich
Spanish frigates; the acquisition of the whole of India;
the retaining of Malta and the Cape of Good Hope,
against the faith of treaties: the Machiavelian rupture
of the treaty of Amiens; the unjust seizure of our ships
previously to a new declaration of war: the Danish
fleet seized with such cold and ironical perfidy, &c. &c.;
all these aggressions were overlooked in the general
agitation which had been artfully stirred up against a
foreign power.
In order to take a just view of the accusations which
have been heaped upon Napoleon, by the numerous
publications written against him, it is necessary to make
allowance for passions and circumstances; to reject with
contempt all that is apocryphal, anonymous, and purely
declamatory; and to adhere solely to the facts and
proofs which would doubtless have been produced by
those who, after the overthrow of their enemy, became
possessed of the authentic documents, the archives of
the public departments and courts of law, in short, of all
the sources of truth which are usually to be found in
society. But nothing has been published; nothing has
been brought forward; and, therefore, how much of this
monstrous scaffolding falls to the ground. And to be
118still more rigidly equitable, if we wish to judge Napoleon
by the example of his peers, or great men in analogous
circumstances; that is to say, by comparing him with
the founders of dynasties, or those who have ascended
thrones by dint of popular commotions, it may then
confidently be said that he is unequalled, and that he
shines purely from amidst all that is opposed to him.
It would be a loss of time to cite the numberless examples
furnished by ancient and modern history: they are
accessible to every one. It is only necessary to refer to
the two countries which are here under consideration.
Did Napoleon, like Hugues Capet, fight against his
sovereign? Did he cause him to perish in captivity?
Did Napoleon act like the princes of the present house
of Brunswick, who, in 1715 and 1745, crowded the
scaffold with victims—victims to whom the present
English ministers, through their inconsequential policy
and the principles they now profess, leave no other title
than that of faithful subjects dying for their lawful
sovereign?
The course by which Napoleon advanced to supreme
power is perfectly simple and natural; it is single in
history; the very circumstances of his elevation render
it unparalleled. “I did not usurp the crown,” said he
one day to the Council of State, “I took it up out of the
mire; the people placed it on my head: let their acts
be respected!”
And by thus taking up the crown, Napoleon restored
France to her rank in European society, terminated her
horrors, and revived her character. He freed us of all
the evils of our fatal crisis, and reserved to us all the
advantages arising out of it. “I ascended the throne
unsullied by any of the crimes of my situation,” said he,
on one occasion. “How few founders of dynasties can
say as much!”
Never, during any period of our history, were favours
distributed with so much impartiality; never was merit
so indiscriminately sought out and rewarded; public
money so usefully employed; the arts and sciences better
encouraged, or the glory and lustre of the country raised
to so high a pitch. “It is my wish,” said he one day
119to the Council of State, “that the title of Frenchman
should be the best and most desirable on earth; that a
Frenchman travelling through any part of Europe may
think and find himself at home.”
If liberty seemed occasionally to suffer encroachments,
if authority seemed sometimes to overstep its limits,
circumstances rendered those measures necessary and
inevitable. Our present misfortunes have, though too
late, made us sensible of this truth; we now render
justice, though also too late, to the courage, judgment,
and foresight which then dictated those steps. It is
certain that in this respect the political fall of Napoleon
has considerably increased his influence. Who can now
doubt that his glory and the lustre of his character have
been infinitely augmented by his misfortunes?
If the works which have fallen in my way should present
any circumstances connected with these general
considerations, they will be the object of my particular
attention. I do not intend to enter upon a political
controversy; I shall not address myself to party men,
whose opinions are founded on their interests and passions;
I speak only to the cool friend of truth, or to the
unprejudiced writer, who in future times may impartially
seek for materials: to them alone I address myself; in
their eyes my testimony will be superior to anonymous
evidence, and will rank with that which bears a credible
character.
The first work that I looked into was the Anti-Gallican,
of which I shall speak hereafter.
19th-22nd. We continued our course with the same
wind, the same sky, and the same temperature. Our
voyage was monotonous, but pleasant; our days were
long, but employment helped them to glide away. The
Emperor now began regularly to dictate to me his Campaigns
of Italy. I had already written several chapters.
For the first few days, the Emperor viewed this occupation
with indifference; but the regularity and promptitude
with which I presented to him my daily task, together
with the progress we made, soon excited his interest,
120and at length the pleasure he derived from this dictation
rendered it absolutely necessary to him. He was sure
to send for me about eleven o’clock every morning, and
he seemed himself to await the hour with impatience. I
always read to him what he had dictated on the preceding
day, and he then made corrections and dictated
farther. In this way the time passed rapidly till four
o’clock arrived, when he summoned his valet-de-chambre.
He then proceeded to the state-cabin, and passed the
time until dinner in playing at piquet or chess.
The Emperor dictates very rapidly, almost as fast as
he speaks in ordinary conversation. I was therefore
obliged to invent a kind of hieroglyphic writing: and I,
in my turn, dictated to my son. I was happy enough
to be able to collect almost literally every sentence that
fell from him. I had now not a moment to spare; at
dinner time somebody was sure to come and tell me that
all the company were seated at table. Fortunately my
seat was near the door, which always stood open. I
had some time since changed my place at the request of
Captain Ross, the commander of the vessel, who, as he
did not speak French, took the opportunity of occasionally
asking me the meaning of words: I therefore took
my seat between him and the Grand Marshal. Captain
Ross was a man of agreeable manners, and was exceedingly
kind and attentive to us. I had learnt, according
to the English custom, to invite him to take a glass of
wine, drinking mine to the health of his wife, and he
would then drink to the health of mine. This was our
daily practice.
After dinner, the Emperor never failed to allude to his
morning dictation, as if pleased with the occupation and
amusement it had afforded him. On these occasions, as
well as whenever I happened to meet him in the course
of the day, he would address me in a jocular tone with:
“Ah! sage Las Cases!—Illustrious memorialist!—the
Sully of St. Helena;” and other similar expressions.
Then he would frequently add: “My dear Las Cases,
these Memoirs will be as celebrated as any that have
preceded them. You will survive as long as any previous
memoir-writer. It will be impossible to dwell upon the
121great events of our time, or to write about me, without
referring to you.” Then resuming his pleasantry, he
would add: “After all, it will be said, he must have
known Napoleon well; he was his Councillor of State,
his Chamberlain, his faithful companion. We cannot
help believing him, for he was an honest man and incapable
of misrepresentation.”
23rd–25th. The West wind still continued, to our
great astonishment; it was a sort of phenomenon in
these regions, and had hitherto been very much in our
favour. But, with regard to phenomena, chance produced
one of a much more extraordinary kind on the
23rd, when we crossed the Line in 0° latitude 0° longitude,
and 0° declination. This is a circumstance which
chance alone may perhaps renew only once in a century,
since it is necessary to arrive precisely at the first meridian
about noon, in order to pass the Line at that same
hour, and to arrive there at the same time with the sun.
This was a day of great merriment and disorder
among the crew: it was the ceremony which our sailors
call the Christening, and which the English call the
great Shaving day. The sailors dress themselves up
in the most grotesque way; one is disguised as Neptune,
and all persons on board the ship who have not previously
crossed the Line, are formally presented to him;
an immense razor is passed over their chins, with a
lather made of pitch; buckets of water are thrown over
them, and the loud bursts of laughter which accompany
their retreat complete their initiation into the grand
mystery. No one is spared; and the officers are generally
more roughly used than the lowest of the sailors.
The Admiral, who had previously amused himself by
endeavouring to alarm us with the anticipation of this
awful ceremony, now very courteously exempted us from
the inconvenience and ridicule attending it. We were,
with every mark of attention and respect, presented to
the rude god, who paid to each of us a compliment after
his own fashion: and thus our trial ended.
122The Emperor was scrupulously respected during the
whole of this Saturnalian festivity, when respect is
usually shewn to no one. On being informed of the
decorum which had been observed with respect to him,
he ordered a hundred Napoleons to be distributed to the
grotesque Neptune and his crew, which the Admiral opposed,
perhaps from motives of prudence as well as
politeness.
EXAMINATION OF THE ANTI-GALLICAN.—SIR ROBERT
WILSON’S WRITINGS.—PLAGUE AT JAFFA.—ANECDOTES
OF THE FRENCH ARMY IN EGYPT.—FEELINGS
OF THE ARMY IN THE EGYPTIAN CAMPAIGN.—BERTHIER.—JESTS
OF THE SOLDIERY.—DROMEDARIES.—DEATH
OF KLEBER.—THE YOUNG ARAB.—SINGULAR
COINCIDENCES RESPECTING PHILIPEAUX AND NAPOLEON.—CIRCUMSTANCES
ON WHICH THE FATE OF INDIVIDUALS
DEPENDS.—CAFFARELLI’S ATTACHMENT TO
NAPOLEON.—REPUTATION OF THE FRENCH ARMY IN
THE EAST.—NAPOLEON QUITTING EGYPT TO ASSUME
THE GOVERNMENT OF FRANCE.—THE ENGLISH EXPEDITION.—KLEBER
AND DESAIX.
26th—30th. The weather still continued favourable.
Having passed the Line, we momentarily expected to fall
in with an east or south-east wind. The continuance of
the west wind was extraordinary, and it was impossible
it could last much longer. The resolution which the
Admiral had adopted of bearing considerably to the
east rendered our situation very favourable, and we
had every reason to hope for a short passage.
One afternoon, the sailors caught an enormous shark.
The Emperor enquired the cause of the great noise
and confusion which he suddenly heard overhead; being
informed of what had occurred, he expressed a wish to
have a sight of the sea-monster. He accordingly went
up to the poop, and incautiously approached too near
the animal, which by a sudden movement knocked down
four or five of the sailors, and had well nigh broken the
Emperor’s legs. He went below with his left stocking
covered with blood: we thought he was severely hurt,
but it proved to be only the blood of the shark.
123My labours advanced with the greatest regularity.
The Anti-Gallican, which was the first work I undertook
to read, was a volume of five hundred pages, comprising
all that had been written in England at the time when
that country was menaced with the French invasion. It
was the object of the English government to nationalize
opposition to that attempt, and to rouse the whole nation
against her dangerous enemy. The book contained a
collection of public speeches, exhortations, patriotic
appeals of zealous citizens, satirical songs, sarcastic
productions, and highly-coloured newspaper articles, all
pouring a torrent of odium and ridicule upon the French
and their First Consul, whose courage, genius, and
power excited the greatest alarm. This was all perfectly
natural and allowable. Productions of this sort are like
a shower of arrows thrown by combatants before they
come to a close action: some hit, and some are carried
away by the wind. Such writings will never afford
satisfactory evidence to a man of judgment, and they
scarcely merit contradiction.
Pamphleteers are little regarded, because their character
is the antidote of their poison: it is not so with
the historian. The latter, however, degrades himself to
a level with the pamphlet-writer when he departs from
the calm dignity and impartiality required for his office,
to indulge in declamation and to steep his pen in gall.
With these feelings I arose from the perusal of the
different productions of Sir Robert Wilson, which I read
after the Anti-Gallican. This writer did us the greater
injury, because his talents, his courage, and his numerous
and brilliant services, gave him importance in the eyes
of his countrymen. A circumstance which I am about
to state caused the writings of Sir R. Wilson to be
particularly known and spoken of on board the ship.
Sir Robert had a son among the young midshipmen
on board the Northumberland, and my son, whose similarity
of age occasioned him to be much in the society
of these youths, could easily observe the change which
took place in their opinions with respect to us. They
were at first very much prejudiced against us. When
the Emperor came on board, they regarded him as an
124ogre ready to devour them. But on a better acquaintance
with us, truth soon exercised over them the same
influence which it produced on the rest of the crew. This
was, however, at the expense of young Wilson, who
was scouted by his companions, by way of expiation,
as they said, for the stories which his father had circulated.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
At this part of the manuscript a great number of
pages are struck out; the reason was explained, on the
margin, as follows:
“I had collected numerous offensive statements from
the writings of Sir Robert Wilson, to which I had
perhaps replied with too much bitterness: a recent
circumstance has induced me to suppress this portion
of my journal.
“Sir Robert Wilson has lately acted a conspicuous
part in a cause which does honour to the hearts of all
who were concerned in it: I allude to the saving of
Lavalette. Being asked, before a French tribunal, whether
he had not formerly published works respecting our
affairs? he replied in the affirmative, and added that he
had stated in them what he then believed to be true.
These words are more to the purpose than any thing I
could say; and I therefore hasten to cancel what I have
already written; happy in thus having an opportunity
to render justice to Sir Robert Wilson, on whose sincerity
and good intentions I had, in my indignation,
cast reflections.”[19]
125I therefore set aside the works of Sir Robert Wilson,
and the various accusations contained in them; I also
suppress the numerous refutations I had collected. I
shall merely stop to consider one circumstance which has
been repeated in a hundred different works; the report
of which has been circulated through Europe, and has
obtained credit even in France. I allude to the poisoning
of the men infected with the plague at Jaffa.
Certainly nothing can more clearly prove how easily
calumny may effect its object. If the voice of slander be
bold and powerful, and can command numerous echoes,
no matter how far probability, reason, common sense,
and truth be violated—the wished-for end is sure to be
attained.
A general, a hero, a great man, hitherto respected
by fortune, as well as by mankind, at that moment riveting
the attention of three quarters of the globe, commanding
admiration even from his enemies, was suddenly
accused of a crime declared to be unheard-of and
unparalleled; of an act pronounced to be inhuman, atrocious,
and cruel; and, what is above all extraordinary, he
126could have no possible object in committing that crime.
The most absurd details, the most improbable circumstances,
the most ridiculous episodes were invented, to
give a colouring to this first falsehood. The story was
circulated through Europe; malevolence seized it, and
exaggerated its enormity; it was published in every
newspaper; recorded in every book; and thenceforward
was looked upon as an established fact:—indignation
was at its height, and clamour universal. It would have
been vain to reason, or to attempt to stem the torrent,
or to shew that no proofs of the fact had been adduced,
and that the story contradicted itself. It would have
been vain to bring forward opposite and incontrovertible
evidence—the evidence of those very medical men
who were said to have administered, or to have refused
to administer, the poison. It would have been vain to
expose the unreasonableness of accusing of inhumanity
the man who, but a short time before, had immortalized
the hospitals of Jaffa by an act of the sublimest heroism;
risking his own safety by solemnly touching the troops
infected with the plague, to deceive and soothe the
imaginations of the sick men. In vain might it have
been urged that the idea of such a crime could not be
affixed on him who, when consulted by the medical
officers as to the expediency of burning or merely washing
the clothes worn by the invalids, and being reminded
of the enormous loss attendant on the former measure,
replied;—“Gentlemen, I came here to fix the
attention and to recal the interests of Europe to the
centre of the ancient world, and not with the view of
amassing wealth.” In vain would it have been shewn
that there could be no object, no motive whatever, for
this supposed crime. Had the French General any reason
to suspect a design for corrupting his invalids and
converting them into reinforcements against himself?
Did he hope that this barbarous act would completely
rid him of the infection? He might have effected that
object equally well by leaving his invalids to be overtaken
by the enemy’s troops, which would moreover
have been the means of spreading the contagion among
the latter. It would have been vain to shew that an
127unfeeling and selfish chief might have freed himself from
all embarrassment by merely leaving the unfortunate
men behind him: they would have been massacred, it
is true; but no one would ever have thought of addressing
a reproach to him.
These and all other arguments would have been vain
and useless, so powerful and infallible are the effects of
falsehood and declamation when the passions of mankind
are interested in their propagation. The imaginary
crime was repeated by every mouth, was engraven on
every heart, and to the common mass of mankind it will perhaps
for ever continue a positive and incontrovertible fact.
A circumstance which will not a little surprise those
who have yet to learn how little credit is due to public
report, and which will also serve to shew the errors
that may creep into history, is that Marshal Bertrand,
who was himself with the army in Egypt, (though certainly
in a rank which did not enable him to come into
immediate contact with the General-in-chief) firmly
believed, up to the period of his residence at St. Helena,
the story of poison having been administered to
sixty invalids. The report was circulated and believed
even in our army; therefore, what answer could be
given to those who triumphantly asserted “It is a fact,
I assure you, I have it from officers who served in the
French army at the time?” Nevertheless, the whole
story is false. I have collected the following facts from
the highest source, from the mouth of Napoleon himself.
1st. That the invalids in question, who were infected
with the plague, amounted, according to the report made
to the General-in-chief, only to seven in number.
2nd. That it was not the General-in-chief, but a professional
man, who, at the moment of the crisis, proposed
the administering of opium.
3rd. That opium was not administered to a single
individual.
4th. That the retreat having been effected slowly, a
rear-guard was left behind in Jaffa for three days.
5th. That, on the departure of the rear-guard, the invalids
were all dead, except one or two, who must have
fallen into the hands of the English.
128N.B. Since my return to Paris, having had opportunities
of conversing with those whose situation and profession
naturally rendered them the first actors in the
scene—those whose testimony must be considered as official
and authentic, I have had the curiosity to enquire
into the most minute details, and the following is the
result of my enquiries.
“The invalids under the care of the Surgeon-in-chief,
that is to say, the wounded, were all, without exception,
removed, with the help of the horses belonging to the
staff, not excepting even those of the General-in-chief,
who proceeded for a considerable distance on foot, like
the rest of the army. These, therefore, are quite out of
the question.
“With regard to the rest of the invalids, about twenty
in number, who were under the care of the Physician-in-chief,
and who were in an absolutely desperate condition,
totally unfit to be removed, while the enemy was advancing,
it is very true that Napoleon asked the Physician-in-chief
whether it would not be an act of humanity to
administer opium to them. It is also true that the Physician
replied, his business was to cure and not to kill;—an
answer which, as it seems to have reference to an
order rather than to a subject of discussion, has, perhaps,
furnished a basis on which slander and falsehood might
invent and propagate the fabrication which has since
been circulated on this subject.
“Finally, the details which I have been able to collect
afford me the following incontestible results:—
“1st. That no order was given for the administering
of opium to the sick.
“2nd. That there was not at the period in question,
in the medicine-chest of the army, a single grain of
opium for the use of the sick.
“3rd. That even had the order been given, and had
there been a supply of opium, temporary and local circumstances,
which it would be tedious to enumerate here,
would have rendered its execution impossible.
“The following circumstances have probably helped
to occasion, and may, perhaps, in some degree excuse,
the mistake of those who have obstinately maintained the
129truth of the contrary facts. Some of our wounded men,
who had been put on board ship, fell into the hands of
the English. We had been short of medicines of all
kinds in the camp, and we had supplied the deficiency by
compositions formed from indigenous trees and plants.
The draughts and other medicines had a horrible taste
and appearance. The prisoners, either for the purpose
of exciting pity, or from having heard of the opium story,
which the nature of the medicines might incline them to
believe, told the English that they had miraculously escaped
death, having had poison administered to them by
their medical officers.” So much for the invalids under
the care of the Surgeon-in-chief.
Now for the others.—“The army unfortunately had,
as Apothecary-in-chief, a wretch who had been allowed
the use of five camels to convey from Cairo the quantity
of medicines necessary for the expedition. This man
was base enough to supply himself on his own account,
instead of medicines, with sugar, coffee, wine, and other
provisions, which he afterwards sold at an enormous
profit. On the discovery of the fraud, the indignation
of the General-in-chief was without bounds, and the
offender was condemned to be shot; but all the medical
officers, who were so distinguished for their courage,
and whose attentive care had rendered them so dear to
the army, implored his pardon, alleging that the honour
of the whole body would be compromised by his punishment;
and thus the culprit escaped. Some time after,
when the English took possession of Cairo, this man
joined them, and made common cause with them; but,
having attempted to renew some of his old offences, he
was condemned to be hanged, and again escaped by slandering
the General-in-chief Buonaparte, of whom he invented
a multitude of horrible stories, and, by representing
himself as the identical person who had, by the General’s
orders, administered opium to the soldiers infected with
the plague. His pardon was the condition and the reward
of his calumnies. This was doubtless the first source
whence the story was derived, by those who were not induced
to propagate it from malevolent motives.
130“Time has, however, fully exposed this absurd calumny,
as well as many others which have been applied
in the same direction, and that with so great a rapidity,
that on revising my manuscript, I have been surprised
at the importance I have attached to the refutation of a
charge which no one would now dare to maintain. Still,
I thought it best to preserve what I had written, as a testimony
of the impression of the moment; and if I have
now added some farther details, it is because they happened
to lie within my reach, and I thought it important
to record them as historical facts.”
Sir Robert Wilson has, in his work, boasted, with
seeming complacency, of having been the first to make
known and to propagate these odious charges in Europe.
His countryman, Sir Sydney Smith, may perhaps dispute
this honour with him, particularly as he may, in a great
measure at least, justly lay claim to the merit of their
invention. To him, and to the system of corruption he
encouraged, Europe is indebted for all the false reports
with which she has been inundated, to the great detriment
of our brave army of Egypt.
It is well known that Sir Sydney Smith did every thing
in his power to corrupt our army. The false intelligence
from Europe—the slander of the General-in-chief—the
powerful bribes held out to the officers and soldiers,—were
all approved by him: the documents are published,
his proclamations are known. At one time they created
sufficient alarm in the French General to induce him to
seek to put a stop to them; which he did by forbidding
all communication with the English, and stating in the
Order of the day that their Commodore had gone mad.
This assertion was believed in the French army; and it
enraged Sir Sydney Smith so much that he sent Napoleon
a challenge. The General replied that he had business
of too great importance on his hands to think of
troubling himself about such a trifle: had he received a
challenge from the great Marlborough, then indeed he
might have thought it worth while to consider of it: but
if the English seaman really felt inclined to amuse himself
at a tilting-match, he would send him one of the bullies
131in his army, and neutralize a few yards of the sea-coast,
where the mad Commodore might come ashore,
and enjoy his heart’s content of it.
As I am on the subject of Egypt, I will here note
down all the information I collected in my detached conversations,
and which may possibly not be found in the
Campaign of Egypt, dictated by Napoleon to the Grand
Marshal.
The campaign of Italy exhibits all the most brilliant
and decisive results to which military genius and conception
ever gave birth. Diplomatic views, administrative
talents, legislative measures, are there uniformly
blended in harmony with the prodigies of war. But the
most striking and the finishing touch in the picture is
the sudden and irresistible ascendancy which the young
General acquired:—the anarchy of equality—the jealousy
of republican principles—every thing vanished before
him: there was not a power, even to the ridiculous sovereignty
of the Directory, which was not immediately
suspended. The Directory required no accounts from
the General-in-chief of the army of Italy; it was left to
himself to send them: no plan, no system was prescribed
to him; but accounts of victories and conclusions
of armistices, of the destruction of old states, and
the creation of new ones, were constantly received from
him.
In the expedition of Egypt may be retraced all that is
admired in the campaign of Italy. The reflecting observer
will even perceive that, in the Egyptian expedition,
the points of resemblance are of a more important
nature, from the difficulties of every kind which
gave character to the campaign, and required greater
genius and resources on the part of its conductor. In
Egypt, a new order of things appeared: climate, country,
inhabitants, religion, manners, and mode of fighting, all
were different.[20]
132The Memoirs of the Campaign of Egypt will determine
points which, at the time, formed only the subjects
of conjecture and discussion to a large portion of society.
1st. The expedition of Egypt was undertaken at
the earnest and mutual desire of the Directory and the
General-in-chief.
2nd. The taking of Malta was not the consequence
of a private understanding, but of the wisdom of the
General-in-chief. “It was in Mantua that I took Malta,”
said the Emperor one day; “it was the generous treatment
observed towards Wurmser that secured to me
the submission of the Grand Master and his Knights.”
3rd. The conquest of Egypt was planned with as
much judgment as it was executed with skill. If Saint
Jean d’Acre had surrendered to the French army, a great
revolution would have taken place in the East; the General-in-chief
would have established an empire there,
and the destinies of France would have taken a different
turn.
4th. On its return from the campaign of Syria, the
French army had scarcely sustained any loss; it remained
in the most formidable and prosperous condition.
5th. The departure of the General-in-chief for France
was the result of a grand and magnanimous plan. How
ridiculous is the imbecility of those who consider that
departure as an escape or a desertion!
6th. Kleber fell a victim to Mussulman fanaticism.
There is not the slightest foundation for the absurd calumny
which would have attributed this catastrophe to
the policy of his predecessor, or to the intrigues of his
successor.
7th, and lastly. It is pretty well proved that Egypt
would have remained for ever a French province if any
other but Menou had been appointed for her defence;
nothing but the gross errors of that general could have
lost us the possession of Egypt.
The Emperor said, that no army in the world was
133less fit for the Egyptian expedition than that which he
led there—the army of Italy. It would be difficult to
describe the disgust, the discontent, the melancholy, the
despair of that army, on its first arrival in Egypt. The
Emperor himself saw two dragoons run out of the ranks
and throw themselves into the Nile. Bertrand had seen
the most distinguished generals, such as Lannes and
Murat, in momentary fits of rage, throw their laced hats
on the sand and trample on them in the presence of
the soldiers. The Emperor explained these feelingsfeelings surprisingly
well. “This army,” said he, “had fulfilled its
career. All the individuals belonging to it were satiated
with wealth, rank, pleasure, and consideration; they
were not fit for the Deserts and the fatigues of Egypt:
and,” continued he, “had that army been placed in
other hands than mine, it is difficult to say what excesses
might not have been committed.”
More than one conspiracy was formed to carry away
the flags to Alexandria, and other things of the same
sort. The influence, the character, and the glory of
the General, could alone restrain the troops. One day,
Napoleon, losing his temper in his turn, rushed among
a group of discontented generals, and addressing himself,
to the tallest, “You have held mutinous language,” said
he, with vehemence, “take care that I do not fulfil my
duty; it is not your being six foot high that should
save you from being shot in a couple of hours.”
With regard, however, to their conduct before the
enemy, the Emperor said that this army never ceased to
be the army of Italy; that it still preserved the same
admirable character. The most difficult party to manage
was that which the Emperor used to call “the faction
of the sentimentalists,” whom it was impossible
to keep under any restraint; their minds were diseased;
they spent the night in gazing on the moon for the reflected
image of the idols they had left in Europe. At
the head of this party was Berthier, the weak and spiritless
Berthier, who, when the General-in-chief was preparing
to sail from Toulon, posted night and day from
Paris to tell him that he was unwell, and could not accompany
him, though he was the head of the staff.
134The General-in-chief took not the smallest notice of
what he said, and Berthier, finding himself no longer at
the feet of the fair one who had despatched him with
the excuse, set sail along with him! On his arrivalarrival in
Egypt, he became a prey to ennui, and was unable to
subdue his tender recollections;—he solicited and obtained
permission to return to France. He took leave
of Napoleon, and bade him a formal adieu; but shortly
returned with his eyes full of tears, saying that, after
all, he would not dishonour himself, and that he could
not separate his destiny from that of his General.
Berthier’s love was mingled with a kind of worship.
Adjoining the tent, destined for his own use, he always
had another prepared, and furnished with the magnificence
of the most elegant boudoir; this was consecrated
to the portrait of his mistress, before which he would
sometimes even go so far as to burn incense. This tent
was pitched even in the deserts of Syria. Napoleon
said, with a smile, that his temple had oftener than once
been profaned by a worship less pure, through the clandestine
introduction of foreign divinities.
Berthier never relinquished his passion, which sometimes
carried him to the very verge of idiotcy. In his
first account of the battle of Marengo, young Visconti,
his aide-de-camp, who was but a captain at most, was
mentioned five or six times in remembrance of his mother.
“One would have thought,” said Napoleon,
“that the youth had gained the battle.” Surely the
General-in-chief must have been ready to throw the
paper in the writer’s face!
The Emperor calculated that he had given Berthier
forty millions during his life; but he supposed that from
this weakness of his mind, his want of regularity, and
his ridiculous passion, he had squandered away a great
part of it.
The discontent of the troops in Egypt happily vented
itself in sarcastic jokes: this is the humour which always
bears a Frenchman through difficulties. They bore a
great resentment against General Caffarelli, whom they
believed to have been one of the promoters of the expedition.
Caffarelli had a wooden leg, having lost one of
135his limbs on the banks of the Rhine; and whenever the
soldiers saw him hobbling-past, they would say, loud
enough for him to hear,—“That fellow does not care
what happens; he is certain, at all events, to have one
foot in France.”
The men of science who accompanied the expedition
also came in for their share of the jests. Asses were
very numerous in Egypt; almost all the soldiers possessed
one or two, and they used always to call them
their demi-savans.
The General-in-chief, on his departure from France,
had issued a proclamation, in which he informed the
troops that he was about to take them to a country
where he would make them all rich; where they should
each have seven acres of land at their disposal. The
soldiers, when they found themselves in the midst of the
Desert, surrounded by the boundless ocean of sand, began
to question the generosity of their General: they
thought he had observed singular moderation in having
promised only seven acres. “The rogue,” said they,
“might with safety give us as much as he pleases; we
should not abuse his good nature.”
While the army was passing through Syria, there
was not a soldier but was heard to repeat these lines
from Zaire:—
Les Français sont lassés de chercher désormais
Des climats que pour eux le destin n’a point faits,
Ils n’abandonnent point leur fertile patrie,
Pour languir aux déserts de l’aride Arabie.
On one occasion, the General-in-chief, having a few
moments’ leisure to look about the country, took advantage
of the ebb-tide, and crossed on foot to the opposite
coast of the Red Sea. Night surprised him on his return,
and he lost his way in the midst of the rising tide.
He was in the greatest danger, and very narrowly
escaped perishing precisely in the same manner as Pharaoh.
“This,” said Napoleon, “would have furnished
all the preachers of Christianity with a splendid text
against me.” On reaching the Arabian coast of the
Red Sea, he received a deputation of the Cenobites of
Mount Sinai, who came to implore his protection, and
136to request him to inscribe his name on the ancient
register of their charters. Napoleon inscribed his name
in the same list with those of Ali, Saladin, Ibrahim, and
others! In allusion to this circumstance, or something
of a similar kind, the Emperor observed that he had
in the course of one year received letters from Rome
and Mecca; the Pope addressing him as his dearest son,
and the Sherif styling him the Protector of the holy
Kaaba.
This singular coincidence, however, is scarcely surprising,
with reference to him who has led armies both
through the burning sands of the Tropic, and over the
frozen Steppes of the North; who, when he narrowly
escaped being swallowed up in the waves of the Red
Sea, or might have perished in the flames of Moscow,
was threatening the Indies from those two extreme
points.
The General-in-chief shared the fatigues of the soldiers.
The privations endured by every individual in the
army were sometimes so great that they were compelled
to dispute with each other for the smallest enjoyments,
without the least distinction of rank. To such
extremities were they reduced that, in the Desert, the
soldiers would hardly relinquish their places to allow the
General to dip his hands in a muddy stream. On one
occasion, as they were passing by the ruins of Pelusium,
and were almost suffocated with the heat, some one resigned
to him a fragment of a door, beneath which he
contrived to shade his head for a few minutes: “And
this,” said Napoleon, “was no trifling concession.” It
was on this very spot, while removing some stones at
his feet, that chance rendered him the possessor of a
superb antique, well known in the learned world.[21]
137In proceeding to Asia, the French army had to cross
the Desert which separates that continent from Africa.
Kleber, who commanded the advanced guard, mistook
his road, and lost his way in the Desert. Napoleon,
who was following at the distance of half a day’s march,
attended by a slender escort, found himself at night-fall
in the midst of the Turkish camp: he was closely pursued,
and escaped only because, it being night, the
Turks suspected that an ambush was intended. The
next source of uneasiness was the doubtful fate of Kleber
and his detachment, and the greater part of the
night was passed in the most cruel anxiety. At length
they obtained information respecting them from some
Arabs of the Desert, and the General-in-chief hastened,
on his dromedary, in quest of his troops. He found
them overwhelmed with despair, and ready to perish
from thirst and fatigue; some of the young soldiers
had, in a moment of frenzy, even broken their muskets.
The sight of their General seemed to give them new
life, by reviving their hopes. Napoleon informed them
that a supply of provisions and water was coming up
behind him. “But,” said he, to the troops, “if relief
had been longer delayed, would that have excused your
murmuring and loss of courage? No, soldiers; learn
to die with honour.”
Napoleon travelled the greater part of the way
through the Desert on a dromedary. The physical hardihood
of this animal renders it unnecessary to pay the
least attention to his sustenance; he scarcely eats or
drinks; but his moral sensibility is extreme, harsh treatment
provokes his resentment, and renders him furious.
The Emperor observed that the roughness of his trot
created nausea, like the motion of a ship. The animal will
travel twenty leagues a day. The Emperor formed some
dromedary regiments, and the use he made of them in the
army soon proved the destruction of the Arabs. The
rider squats himself on the back of the animal, through
whose nostrils a ring is passed, which serves to guide
him: he is very obedient, and on a certain signal, made
by the voice of the rider, the animal kneels down to
allow him to alight. The dromedary will carry very
138heavy burdens, and he is never unloaded during the
whole of the journey. On his arrival at evening stations,
his load is propped up, and the animal lies down
and goes to sleep: at day-break he rises,—his burden
is on his back, and he is ready to continue his journey.
The dromedary is only a beast of burden, and
not at all fit for draught. In Syria, however, they succeeded
in yoking them to field-pieces, thus rendering
them essentially serviceable.
Napoleon became very popular among the Egyptians,
who gave him the name of Sultan Kebir (Father of
Fire). He inspired particular respect: wherever he
appeared the people rose in his presence; and this deference
was paid to him alone. The uniform consideration
with which he treated the Sheiks, and the adroitness
by which he gained their confidence, rendered him
truly the sovereign of Egypt, and more than once saved
his life. But for their disclosures, he would have fallen
a victim to fanaticism, like Kleber, who, on the contrary,
rendered himself odious to the Sheiks, and perished
in consequence of subjecting one of them to the
punishment of the bastinado. Bertrand was one of the
judges who condemned the assassin, and, on his telling
us this fact one day at dinner, the Emperor observed:—“If
the slanderers, who accuse me of having caused the
death of Kleber, were acquainted with the fact you have
mentioned, they would not hesitate to call you the assassin,
or the accomplice, and would take it for granted
that your title of Grand Marshal, and your residence at
Saint Helena, are the reward and the punishment of the
crime.”
Napoleon willingly conversed with the people of the
country, and always displayed sentiments of justice
which struck them with wonder. On his way back to
Syria, an Arab tribe came to meet him, for the double
purpose of shewing him respect and of selling their services
as guides. “The chief of the tribe was unwell,
and his place was filled by his son, a youth of the age
and size of your boy here,” said the Emperor to me:
“he was mounted on his dromedary, riding close beside
me, and chatting to me with great familiarity. ’Sultan
139Kebir, said he, ‘I could give you good advice, now that
you are returning to Cairo,’ ‘Well, speak, my friend,
and if your advice is good, I will follow it.’—‘I’ll tell
you what I would do, if I were in your place. As soon
as I got to Cairo, I would order the richest slave-merchant
into the market, and I would choose twenty of
the prettiest women for myself; I would next send for
the richest jewellers, and would make them give me up
a good share of their stock; I would then do the same
with all the other merchants; for what is the use of
reigning, or being powerful, if not to acquire riches?’—‘But,
my friend, suppose it were more noble to preserve
them for others?’ This sentiment seemed to
make him reflect a little, without convincing him. The
young man was evidently very promising, for an Arab:
he was lively and courageous, and led his troop with
dignity and order. He is, perhaps, destined, one day
or other, to carry his advice into execution for his own
benefit in the market-place of Cairo.”
On another occasion, some Arabs who were on friendly
terms with the army, penetrated into a village on the
frontier, and an unfortunate Fellah (peasant) was killed.
The Sultan Kebir flew into a great passion; and, vowing
that he would have vengeance, gave orders that the
tribe should be pursued into the Desert to extinction.
This order was given in the presence of the principal
Sheiks, one of whom could not refrain from laughing at
his anger and his determination. “Sultan Kebir,” said
he, “you are playing a bad game just now: do not
quarrel with these people; they can do you ten times
more harm than you can do them. And besides, what
is it all about. Because they have killed a miserable
peasant? Was he your cousin (a proverbial expression
among them)?” “He was more than my cousin,” replied
Napoleon; “all those whom I govern are my
children: power is given to me only that I may ensure
their safety.” On hearing these words all the Sheiks
bowed their heads, and said, “O! that is very fine;—you
have spoken like the Prophet.”
The decision of the Grand Mosque of Cairo in favour
of the French army was a masterpiece of skill on the
140part of the General-in-chief, who induced the synod of
the chief Sheiks to declare, by a public act, that the
Mussulmans should obey, and pay tribute to, the French
general. It is the first and only example of the sort,
since the establishment of the Koran, which forbids
submission to Infidels. The details of this transaction
are invaluable: they will be found in the Campaigns of
Egypt.
Saint-Jean d’Acre, doubtless, presented a singular
spectacle, when two European armies met with hostile
intentions in a little town of Asia, with the mutual purpose
of securing the possession of a portion of Africa;
but it is still more extraordinary that the persons who
directed the efforts of each party were both of the same
nation, of the same age, of the same rank, of the same
corps, and of the same school.
Philippeaux, to whose talents the English and Turks
owed the preservation of Saint Jean d’Acre, had been
the companion of Napoleon at the military school of
Paris: they had been there examined together, previous
to their being sent to their respective corps. “His
figure resembled yours,” said the Emperor to me, after
having dictated his eulogium in the Memoirs, and
mentioned all the mischief he had done him. “Sire,”
I answered, “there were many other points of affinity
between us; we had been intimate and inseparable
companions at the Military School. When he passed
through London with Sir Sydney Smith, who, by his
assistance, had been enabled to escape from the Temple,
he sought for me in every direction. I called at his
lodgings only half an hour after his departure; had it
not been for this accident, I should probably have
accompanied him. I was at the time without occupation;
the prospect of adventure might have tempted
me; and how strangely might the course of my destinies
have been turned in a new direction!”
“I am well aware,” said Napoleon, “of the influence
which chance usurps over our political determinations;
and it is the knowledge of that circumstance which has
always kept me free from prejudice, and rendered me
very indulgent with regard to the party adopted by
141individuals in our political convulsions. To be a good
Frenchman, or to wish to become one, was all that I
looked for in any one.”—The Emperor then went on to
compare the confusion of our troubles to battles in the
night-time, where each man attacks his neighbour, and
friends are often confounded with foes; but when daylight
returns, and order is restored, every one forgives
the injury which he has sustained through mistake.
“Even for myself,” said he, “how could I undertake to
say that there might not have existed circumstances
sufficiently powerful, notwithstanding my natural sentiments,
to induce me to emigrate? The vicinity of the
frontier, for instance, a friendly attachment, or the influence
of a chief. In revolutions, we can only speak
with certainty to what we have done: it is silly to affirm
that we could not have acted otherwise.” The Emperor
then related a singular example of the influence of chance
over the destinies of men. Serrurier and the younger
Hedouville, while travelling together on foot to emigrate
into Spain, were met by a military patrol. Hedouville,
being the younger and more active of the two, cleared
the frontier, thought himself very lucky, and went to
spend a life of mere vegetation in Spain. Serrurier, on
the contrary, being obliged to return into the interior,
bewailed his unhappy fate, and became a marshal: such
is the uncertainty of human foresight and calculations!
At Saint-Jean d’Acre, the General-in-chief lost Caffarelli,
of whom he was extremely fond. Caffarelli entertained
a sort of reverential respect for the General-in-chief.
The influence of this sentiment was so great
that, though he was delirious for several days previous to
his death, when Napoleon went to see him, the announcement
of his name seemed to recal him to life: he
became more collected, his spirits revived, and he conversed
coherently; but he relapsed into his former state
immediately after Napoleon’s departure. This singular
phenomenon was renewed every time the General-in-chief
paid him a visit.
Napoleon received, during the siege of Saint-Jean
d’Acre, an affecting proof of heroic devotedness. While
he was in the trenches, a shell fell at his feet; two
142grenadiers who observed it immediately rushed towards
him, placed him between them, and raising their arms
above his head, completely covered every part of his
body. Happily the shell respected the whole group;
nobody was injured.
One of these brave grenadiers afterwards became
General Dumesnil, who lost a leg in the campaign of
Moscow, and commanded the fortress of Vincennes at
the time of the invasion in 1814. The capital had been
for some weeks occupied by the Allies, and Dumesnil
still held out. Nothing was then talked of in Paris but
his obstinate defence, and his humorous reply when summoned
by the Russians to surrender;—“Give me back
my leg, and I will give up my fortress.”
The French soldiers acquired extraordinary reputation
in Egypt, and not without cause; they had dispersed
and dismayed the celebrated Mamelucks, the most formidable
militia of the East. After the retreat from
Syria, a Turkish army landed at Aboukir: Murat-Bey,
the most powerful and brave of the Mamelucks, left
Upper Egypt, whither he had fled for safety, and reached
the Turkish camp by a circuitous route. On the landing
of the Turks, the French detachments had fallen back in
order to concentrate their forces. The Pacha who commanded
the Turks was delighted at this movement,
which he mistook for the effect of fear; and, on perceiving
Murat-Bey, he exultingly exclaimed:—“So! these
are the terrible French whom you could not face; see,
the moment I make my appearance, how they fly before
me.“ The indignant Murat-Bey furiously replied:—“Pacha,
render thanks to the Prophet that it has pleased
these Frenchmen to retire; if they should return, you
will disappear before them like dust before the wind.”
His words were prophetical:—some days after, the
French poured down upon the Turkish army and put it
to flight. Murat-Bey, who had interviews with several
of our generals, was extremely surprised at their diminutive
stature and pitiful condition. The Oriental nations
attach high importance to the bodily stature, and
they were unable to conceive how so much genius could
exist within such small dimensions. The appearance of
143Kleber alone came up to their ideas; he was an uncommonly
fine-looking man, but his manners were rude.
The discrimination of the Egyptians induced them to
think that he was not a Frenchman; in fact, though a
native of Alsace, he had spent the early part of his life
in the Prussian army, and might very well have passed
for a German. Some one said that Kleber had been a
Janissary in his youth; the Emperor burst into a fit of
laughter, and said somebody had been imposing on him.
The Grand-Marshal told the Emperor that at the battle
of Aboukir he was for the first time placed in his
army, and near his person. He was then so little accustomed
to the boldness of his manœuvres, that he
scarcely understood any of the orders he heard him give.
“Particularly, Sire,” added he, “when I heard you call
out to an officer, ‘Hercule, my dear fellow, take twenty-five
men and charge that rabble:’ I really thought I
had lost my senses; your Majesty pointed to a detachment
of a thousand Turkish horse.”
After all, the losses sustained by the army in Egypt
were far from being so considerable as might have been
expected in a country to which the troops were unaccustomed;
particularly when the insalubrity of the climate,
the remoteness of the resources of the country, the ravages
of the plague, and the numerous actions which
have immortalized that army, are taken into account.
The French force, at its landing in Egypt, amounted to
30,000 men; it was augmented by the wrecks of the
battle of Aboukir, and probably also by some partial
arrivals from France; and yet the total loss sustained by
the army, from the commencement of the campaign to
two months after the departure of the General-in-chief
for Europe, (during the space of seven or eight-and-twenty
months,) amounted only to 8,915, as is proved
by the official report of the Muster-master-general.[22]
144The life of a man must indeed be replete with prodigies,
when one of his acts, which is without parallel in
history scarcely arrests our attention. When Cæsar
passed the Rubicon, he possessed an army, and was advancing
in his own defence. When Alexander, urged
by the ardour of youth and the fire of genius, landed in
Asia, to make war on the great King, he, Alexander,
was the son of a king, a king himself, and courted the
chances of ambition and glory at the head of the forces
of his kingdom. But that a private individual, whose
name three years before was unknown to the world, who
at that moment had nothing to aid him but the reputation
of a few victories, his name, and the consciousness
of his genius, should have dared to conceive the project of
taking into his own hands the destinies of thirty millions
of men, of protecting them from external defeats and internal
dissensions;—that, roused by the recital of the
troubles which were described to him, and by the idea
of the disasters which he foresaw, he should have exclaimed,
“France will be lost through these fine talkers,
these babblers: now is the time to save her!”—that he
should have abandoned his army, and crossed the seas,
at the risk of his liberty and reputation, have reached
the French soil and flown to the capital; that he should
there have seized the helm, and stopped short a nation
intoxicated with every excess; that he should have suddenly
brought her back to the true course of reason and
justice;—that he should from that moment have prepared
for her a career of power and glory till then unknown;—and
that all this should have been accomplished
without the shedding of a single tear or a drop of blood;—such
an undertaking may be regarded as one of the
most gigantic and sublime that ever was heard of; it
will fill calm and dispassionate posterity with astonishment
and admiration; though at the time it was branded
by some with the name of a desperate flight, and an
infamous desertion. The army, however, which Napoleon
left behind him, continued to occupy Egypt for the
space of two years longer. It was the opinion of the
Emperor that it ought never to have been forced to surrender;
145and the Grand Marshal, who accompanied the
army to the last moment, concurred in that opinion.
After the departure of the General-in-chief, Kleber,
who succeeded him, deceived and misled by intrigues,
treated for the evacuation of Egypt; but when the
enemy’s refusal compelled him to seek for new glory,
and to form a more just estimate of his own force, he
totally altered his opinions, and declared himself favourable
to the occupation of Egypt; and this had even become
the general sentiment of the army. He now
thought only of maintaining himself in the country; he
dismissed those who had influenced him in forming his
first design, and collected around him only those who
favoured the contrary measure. Had he lived, Egypt
would have been secure; to his death her loss must be
attributed. The command of the army was afterwards
divided between Menou and Regnier. It then became
a mere field of intrigue: the energy and courage of the
French troops continued unabated; but they were no
longer employed and directed as they had been by
Kleber. Menou was totally inefficient; the English
advanced to attack him with twenty thousand men; his
force was much more considerable, and the general spirit
of the two armies was not to be compared. By an inconceivable
infatuation, Menou hastily dispersed his
troops, as soon as he learned that the English were about
to appear, the latter advanced in a mass, and were attacked
only in detail. “How blind is fortune,” said the
Emperor; “by the adoption of contrary measures, the
English would infallibly have been destroyed; and how
many new chances might not that event have brought
about!”
Their landing was admirable, said the Grand Marshal:
in less than five or six minutes five thousand five hundred
men appeared in order of battle: it was a truly
theatrical movement; and it was thrice repeated. Their
landing was opposed by only twelve hundred men, who
did them considerable damage. Shortly after, this mass,
amounting to between thirteen and fourteen thousand,
was intrepidly attacked by General Lanusse. The General
had only three thousand troops; but fired with
146ambition, and not doubting that his force was adequate
to fulfil the object he had in view, he would not wait
for reinforcements; at first he overthrew every thing in
his way, and, after causing immense slaughter to the
enemy, he was at length defeated. Had his force been
two or three thousand stronger, he would have attained
his object.
The English were greatly astonished when they had
an opportunity of judging for themselves of our real
situation in Egypt; and they considered themselves
extremely fortunate in the turn which affairs had taken.
General Hutchinson, who reaped the glory of the
conquest, said, on his return to Europe, that had the
English known the real state of things, they would certainly
never have attempted to land; but in England it
was believed that there were not six thousand French
troops in Egypt. This mistake arose out of the intercepted
letters, as well as the intelligence that was collected
in Egypt. “So natural is it to Frenchmen,”
said Napoleon, “to exaggerate, murmur, and misrepresent,
whenever they are dissatisfied. These reports,
however, were created merely by ill-humour or diseased
imaginations: it was said that there was a famine in
Egypt; that the French had all been destroyed, at every
new battle; that the plague had swept away the whole
army; that there was not a man left,” &c.
Through the repetition of these reports, Pitt was at
length persuaded of their reality; and how could it be
otherwise? The First Consul saw the despatches from
his successor addressed to the Directory; and also letters
from various persons in the French army. Who can
explain the contradictions they contained? Who will
henceforth trust to individual authority for the support
of his opinion? Kleber, the General-in-chief, informed
the Directory, that he had only six thousand men, while
in the same packet the accounts of the inspector of reviews
exhibited upwards of twenty thousand. Kleber
declared that he was without money, and the treasury
accounts display vast sums. The General-in-chief alleged
that the artillery was merely an intrenched park,
destitute of ammunition; while the estimates of that
147department made mention of stores for several campaigns.
“Thus, if Kleber, by virtue of the treaty he
commenced, had evacuated Egypt,” said the Emperor,
“I should undoubtedly have brought him to trial on his
return to France. All these contradictory documents
had been submitted to the examination and opinion of
the Council of State.”
From the letters of Kleber, the General-in-chief, an
idea may be formed of the tone of those written by
persons of inferior rank, and by the common soldiers.
Such, however, were the communications daily intercepted
by the English; which they printed and which guided
them in their operations—a circumstance that must have
cost them dear. The Emperor observed that in all his
campaigns he had seen the same effect produced by intercepted
letters, which sometimes had proved of great
advantage to him.
Among the letters which at this period fell into his
hands, he found odious attacks upon himself, which he
felt the more sensibly because several of them were
written by persons whom he had loaded with benefits,
in whom he had reposed full confidence, and whom he
believed to be strongly attached to him. One of these
individuals, whose fortune he had made, and in whom
he trusted with the utmost sincerity, alleged that the
General-in-chief had decamped, after robbing the treasury
of two millions. Fortunately, in these same despatches
the accounts of the Paymaster proved that the
General had not even received the whole amount of the
pay due to him. “On reading this statement,” said
the Emperor, “I felt really disgusted at mankind. This
was the first moral disappointment I had ever experienced;
and if it has not been the only one, it has, perhaps,
at least, been the most severe. Many individuals
in the army thought me ruined, and they were already
eagerly seeking to pay their court in the proper quarter
at my expense.” The author of the assertion above alluded
to subsequently endeavoured to restore himself to
favour. The Emperor signified that he should have no
objection to his being employed in a subordinate situation;
but that he would never see him again. To every
148application he constantly replied that he did not know
him: this was the only vengeance he took.
The Emperor never ceased to repeat that Egypt ought
to have remained in the possession of the French, which
would infallibly have been the case had the country been
defended by Kleber or Desaix. “These were my two
most distinguished lieutenants,” said he; “both possessed
great and rare merits, though their characters and
dispositions were very different.”
Kleber’s was the talent of nature; Desaix’s was entirely
the result of education and assiduity. The genius
of Kleber only burst forth at particular moments, when
roused by the importance of the occasion; and then it
immediately slumbered again in the bosom of indolence
and pleasure. The talent of Desaix was always in full
activity; he lived only for noble ambition and true
glory: his character was formed on the true ancient
model. The Emperor said that his death was the
greatest loss he could possibly have sustained. Their
conformity of education and principles would always
have preserved a good understanding between them.
Desaix would have been satisfied with secondary rank,
and would have remained ever devoted and faithful.
Had he not been killed at the battle of Marengo, the
First Consul would have given him the command of the
army of Germany, instead of continuing it to Moreau.
A very extraordinary circumstance in the destiny of
these two lieutenants of Napoleon was that on the very
day and at the very hour when Kleber was assassinated
at Cairo, Desaix was killed by a cannon-ball at Marengo.
October 1st—3rd. The wind, the sea, and the temperature
still continued without variation. The westerly
wind, which had at first been so much in our favour,
now began to be adverse. We had taken an easterly
direction, in the hope of falling in with the trade-winds;
but we now found ourselves to the leeward of the place
of our destination, through the continuance of the westerly
winds—a circumstance which surprised every body,
and excited dissatisfaction among the crew.
149The Emperor every morning regularly continued his
dictation, in which he daily took a deeper interest; consequently
his hours henceforth seemed less tedious.
The vessel had been sent out of port in such a hurry
that many repairs remained to be completed after we
had put to sea, and the painting of the ship had only recently
been finished. The Emperor’s sense of smelling
is extremely delicate; and he found the paint so very
offensive that he was forced to confine himself to his
cabin for two days.
Every evening, when taking his walk on deck, he
loved to revert to the occupation of the morning. At
first, he was assisted by no other document than a
wretched work entitled Guerres des Français en Italie,
written without end or object, and devoid of any connected
chronological plan. The Emperor glanced through
it, and his memory supplied all deficiences: this faculty
indeed appeared to me the more extraordinary since it
always seemed to be in readiness when needed, and as
if at command.
When the Emperor commenced his daily dictations,
he always complained that the circumstances to which
he wished to recur were no longer familiar to him. He
seemed to want confidence in himself, saying he should
never get through the task. After considering for a few
moments he would rise and walk about, and then begin to
dictate. From that moment he was quite another man:
every thing flowed smoothly; he spoke as if by inspiration;
places, dates, phrases—he stopped at nothing.
On the following day I read to him what he had
dictated. After making the first correction he continued
to go on with the same subject, as though he had said
nothing about it the day before. The difference between
the first and the second version was very great: the
latter was more positive and diffuse, and better arranged;
indeed it sometimes materially differed from
the first.
On the day succeeding the first correction, the same
operation was repeated, and the Emperor commenced
his third dictation for the purpose of setting the two
former ones right. But after that, had he dictated a
150fourth, a seventh, or a tenth time, as he in some instances
did, it would have been a repetition of precisely
the same ideas, the same construction of phrases, and
almost the same words. It was needless to take the
trouble to write, though before his eyes: he paid no
attention to what was doing, and continued to the end
of his subject. It would have been vain to ask him to
repeat any thing that might not have been distinctly
heard: he still went on; and as he dictated with great
rapidity, I never ventured to interrupt him, lest I should
lose still more, and find myself unable to recover the
thread of the subject.
4th—7th. The continuance of the south-west wind
was truly unfortunate. We were now going back instead
of forward and we had completely entered the Gulf of
Guinea. There we perceived a ship, with which we
spoke. She proved to be a French ship, driven out of
her course like ourselves. She had sailed from a port
in Britany, and was bound for the Isle of Bourbon. The
Emperor had been much distressed for want of books;
and I jokingly said that perhaps I might have a box-full
on board that ship, as I had despatched one to the Isle
of Bourbon, a few months since. I spoke truly. Such
is the caprice of chance! Had I been in quest of this
ship, I might have traversed the ocean in vain. This
was the identical vessel: I learned her name next day
from the officer who had visited her. This officer
strangely surprised the French captain, by telling him
that the Emperor Napoleon was on board the ship which
he then saw making for St. Helena. The poor fellow
shook his head sorrowfully, and said, “You have robbed us
of our treasure: you have taken away him who knew
how to govern us according to our tastes and manners.”
8th—11th. The weather continued obstinately settled.
We every evening consoled ourselves, for the
151unfavourable state of the day, with the hope of a change
during the night; but we arose in the morning with the
same disappointment. We had been almost within sight
of the Congo, and we stood off. Every one manifested
discontent and ennui. The crew complained of the
Admiral; had he taken the usual course, said they, we
should have reached our destination long before; his
caprice, they observed, had led him, in spite of reason,
to try an experiment, of which they knew not what
might be the consequence. Their murmurs were not,
however, so vehement as those raised against Christopher
Columbus; we should not have been ill pleased had
he been reduced to the necessity of finding another
Saint Salvador, in order to evade the crisis. Being for
my own part fully occupied, this circumstance engrossed
but little of my attention; and after all, one prison was
as good as another. As to the Emperor, he was still
more unconcerned at this delay; he merely looked upon
it as so many days spent.
Les Mémoires de Napoléon Bonaparte, par quelqu’un qui
ne l’a jamais quitté pendant 15 ans, (The Memoirs of
Napoleon Bonaparte, by one who was constantly near
him, during fifteen years,) was the title of a work which
I began to examine after the writings of Sir Robert
Wilson. It is a volume of three hundred pages, by an
anonymous author—a circumstance in itself sufficient to
inspire distrust at the first outset. But the composition
and style of the work soon created more positive doubts
in the mind of the reflecting reader, who is accustomed
to judge of books. Finally, he who has seen and known
but little of the Emperor will not hesitate to affirm, on
reading the very first pages, that this work is a mere
romance, written at pleasure; that the author has never
approached the Emperor; and that he is a hundred
leagues distant from his language, habits, and every
thing concerning him. The Emperor never said to a
minister: “Count, do this,”—“Count, execute that.”
Ambassadors never attended his levee. Napoleon could
not, at fourteen years of age, have made to a lady in
company, the reply attributed to him, relative to the
Viscomte de Turenne; because from the age of ten to
152eighteen he was attending the Military School, where
he could not possibly have been introduced to the company
of ladies. It was not Perignon, who did not know
him, but Dugommier, who had been his General, who
recommended him in so marked a way to the Directory.
It was a letter for restoring the Democracy, and not the
Bourbons, which an officer addressed to the First
Consul, &c.
The Emperor, who in Europe was universally acknowledged
to have preserved the most impenetrable secrecy
with regard to his plans and views, never indulged in
gestures, and still less in soliloquies, which would have
been likely to betray him: nor did his anger ever throw
him into fits of insanity or epilepsy—an absurd fabrication
which was long circulated in the saloons of Paris,
but which was relinquished when it was found that those
accidents never occurred on important occasions. These
Memoirs have unquestionably been an ordered work, the
speculation of some bookseller who has furnished the
title. Be this as it may, it might have been supposed
that, in adverting to a career so public as that of the
Emperor and of those who surrounded him, the author
might have evinced more accuracy and knowledge of his
subject. He is aware of his insufficiency on this head,
and seeks to defend himself by saying that he was under
the necessity of altering names, and that he did not wish
to render certain portraits too striking; but he also
observes this circumspection with regard to facts, so
that they cannot be recognised. They are for the most
part entirely the creations of his own fancy. Thus, the
paper whose loss cost the General-in-chief so much
anxiety in Egypt; the recommendation of the young
Englishman, who transported Bonaparte with joy by
opening to him so brilliant a perspective of fortune at
Constantinople; the melodrama of Malmaison, where
the heroism of Madame Bonaparte (who is described as
an absolute amazon) so promptly secures the safety of
her husband, may perhaps excite the interest of the
reader; but they are only so many fables; and the story
relative to Malmaison shews that the author knew no
more of the character and disposition of the Empress
153Josephine than of those of the Emperor. The writer,
however, by extolling certain traits, praising certain
actions, and refuting certain falsehoods, assumes an air
of impartiality, which, joined to his pretended situation
near the Emperor during fifteen years, produces a
wonderful effect in the eyes of common readers. Most
of the Englishmen on board the vessel looked upon this
work as a kind of oracle. Their opinion was not changed
on finding the Emperor’s character so different from
that attributed to him in this romance. They were
inclined to believe that adversity and constraint had
wrought an alteration in the Emperor, rather than to
suppose that these printed statements were false. To
my observations, they constantly replied:—“But the
author was an impartial man, and one who was about
the Emperor for fifteen years:”—“But,” said I, “what
is this man’s name? If he had personally injured you in
his book, how could you bring him to justice? Any
body here might have written it!” These arguments
were of course unanswerable; but the English found
great difficulty in overcoming their first impressions:
such are the common mass of readers, and such is the
effect inevitably produced by printed falsehoods!
But I shall no longer continue my examination of a
work which is not deserving of farther notice; I therefore
dispense with the remainder. On revising my
manuscript in Europe, I found that public opinion had
made such progress that I should be ashamed to waste
time in refuting allegations and facts which judgment
and common sense have long since rejected, and which
are now repeated only by fools.
In endeavouring to subvert the erroneous notions
which this author thought proper to create respecting
the character of Napoleon, it will perhaps be thought
that I should substitute my own opinions in their stead;
but this I shall carefully avoid. I shall content myself
with noting down all that I saw and heard; I will report
his conversations, and nothing more must be expected.
12th—13th. By dint of patience, and with the help
of a few trifling variations, we gradually approached the
termination of our voyage; and, though deprived of the
154natural monsoon, we had now advanced within a short
distance of our place of destination. As we continued
our course, the weather gradually improved, and at
length the wind became perfectly favourable; but this
change did not take place until twenty-four hours before
our arrival.
14th.—The Admiral had previously informed us that
he expected to come within sight of St. Helena this day.
We had scarcely risen from table when our ears were
saluted with the cry of Land! This was just within a
quarter of an hour of the moment that had been fixed on.
Nothing can better prove the advancement of navigation,
than this sort of miracle, by which seamen are enabled
to foretel the hour at which they shall arrive at a particular
point in the vast expanse. The Emperor went on
the forecastle to see the island: he thought he perceived
it, but I could see nothing. We lay-to all night.
15th.—At day light I had a tolerably near view of
the island. At first I thought it rather extensive; but
it seemed to diminish considerably as we approached.
At length, about seventy days after our departure from
England, and a hundred and ten after our departure
from Paris, we cast anchor about noon. This was the
first link of the chain that was to bind the modern
Prometheus to his rock.
We found at anchor several of the vessels of our
squadron, which had separated from us, or which we
had left behind. They had, however, arrived several
days before us: another proof of the extreme uncertainty
attending nautical calculations.
The Emperor, contrary to custom, dressed early and
went upon deck; he went forward on the gangway to
view the island. We beheld a kind of village surrounded
by numerous barren and naked hills towering
to the clouds. Every platform, every aperture, the brow
of every hill, was planted with cannon. The Emperor
viewed the prospect through his glass. I stood behind
him. My eyes were constantly fixed on his countenance,
in which I could perceive no change; and yet he saw
155before him, perhaps his perpetual prison!—perhaps his
grave!... What, then, remained for me to feel or to
express!
The Emperor soon left the deck. He desired me to
come to him, and we proceeded with our usual occupation.
The admiral, who had gone ashore very early, returned
about six o’clock, much fatigued. He had been
walking about various parts of the island, and at length
thought he had found a habitation that would suit us.
The place, however, stood in need of repairs which
might occupy two months. We had now been confined
to our wooden dungeon for nearly three months; and
the precise instructions of the Ministers were that we
should be detained there until our prison on shore was
ready for our reception. The Admiral, to do him justice,
was incapable of such barbarity; he informed us,
at the same time betraying a sort of inward satisfaction,
that he would take upon himself the responsibility of
putting us ashore next day.
