Английский язык в 2 ч Ч 1 Учебное пособие для

студентов обучающихся в сельскохозяйственном

вузе 3rd Edition Н А Атнабаева install download

https://ebookstep.com/download/ebook-46881932/

Download more ebook from https://ebookstep.com

We believe these products will be a great fit for you. Click
the link to download now, or visit ebookstep.com
to discover even more!

Английский язык для экономистов B1 B2 3rd Edition Л П

Дагиленко

https://ebookstep.com/download/ebook-29840068/

Giáo trình Be Internet Awesome 1st Edition Google

http://ebookstep.com/product/giao-trinh-be-internet-awesome-1st-
edition-google/

I ll Be Your Wife Jho Hyo-Eun

http://ebookstep.com/product/i-ll-be-your-wife-jho-hyo-eun/

Marry Me or Be My Wife Ally Jane

http://ebookstep.com/product/marry-me-or-be-my-wife-ally-jane/
L eredità B1 B2 Primi Racconti 1st Edition Luisa Brisi

http://ebookstep.com/product/l-eredita-b1-b2-primi-racconti-1st-
edition-luisa-brisi/

Ritorno alle origini B1 B2 Primi Racconti 1st Edition

Valentina Mapelli

http://ebookstep.com/product/ritorno-alle-origini-b1-b2-primi-
racconti-1st-edition-valentina-mapelli/

The Way I Used to Be 1st Edition Amber Smith

http://ebookstep.com/product/the-way-i-used-to-be-1st-edition-
amber-smith/

Nuevo Prisma Fusión B1 B2 libro del alumno 1st Edition

Equipo Nuevo Prisma

http://ebookstep.com/product/nuevo-prisma-fusion-b1-b2-libro-del-
alumno-1st-edition-equipo-nuevo-prisma/

På nivå grammatikk i norsk som andrespråk B1 Terskel B2

Oversikt 1st Edition Gølin Kaurin Nilsen

http://ebookstep.com/product/pa-niva-grammatikk-i-norsk-som-
andresprak-b1-terskel-b2-oversikt-1st-edition-golin-kaurin-
nilsen/
Other documents randomly have
different content
fancied they had, a right to a place there: and still more than all, our
ridiculous national defect of having no greater enemies to our
successes and our glory than ourselves.
The Emperor after dinner played some games at chess. The day had
been very rainy: he was unwell and retired early.

UNHEALTHINESS OF THE ISLAND.

26th. The weather was still bad; it was impossible to set foot out of
doors. The rain and the damp invaded our pasteboard apartments.
Every one of us suffered in his health in consequence. The
temperature here is certainly mild, but the climate is among the
most unwholesome. It is a thing ascertained in the island, that few
there attain the age of fifty; hardly any that of sixty. Add to this,
exclusion from the rest of the world, physical privations, bad moral
treatment, and it will result that prisons in Europe are far preferable
to liberty in St. Helena.
About four o’clock several Captains from China were brought to me,
who were to be presented to the Emperor. They had an opportunity
of seeing the smallness, the dampness, and bad state of my
habitation. They enquired how the Emperor found himself in point of
health. It declined visibly, I told them. Never did we hear a
complaint from him: his great soul suffered nothing to overcome it,
and even contributed to deceive him with respect to his own state:
but we could see him decay very perceptibly. I led them shortly after
to the Emperor who was walking in the garden. He seemed to me at
that moment more disordered than usual. He dismissed them in half
an hour. He went in again, and took a bath.
Before and after dinner he seemed in low spirits and in pain. He
began to read to us Les Femmes Savantes; but at the second act he
handed the book to the Grand Marshal, and dozed upon the sofa
during the reading of the remainder.
 REMARKS OF THE EMPEROR ON HIS EXPEDITION
IN THE EAST.

30th–31st. This day the weather has continued very bad; we all
suffered from it: besides, we are absolutely eaten up with rats, fleas,
and bugs: our sleep is disturbed by them, so that the troubles by
night are in perfect harmony with those by day.
The weather changed entirely to fair on the 31st; we went out in the
carriage. The Emperor, in the course of conversation, observed,
speaking of Egypt and Syria, that if he had taken St. Jean d’Acre, as
ought to have been the case, he should have wrought a revolution in
the East. “The most trivial circumstances,” said he, "lead to the
greatest events. The weakness of the captain of a frigate, who stood
out to sea instead of forcing a passage into the harbour, some
trifling impediments with respect to some sloops or light vessels,
prevented the face of the world from being changed. Possessed of
St. Jean d’Acre, the French army would have flown to Damascus and
Aleppo; in a twinkling it would have been on the Euphrates; the
Christians of Syria, the Druses, the Christians of Armenia, would
have joined it: nations were on the point of being shaken." One of
us having said that they would have speedily been re-inforced with
100,000 men—"Say 600,000," replied the Emperor; “who can
calculate what it might have been? I should have reached
Constantinople and the Indies; I should have changed the face of
the world.”

SUMMARY OF THE LAST NINE MONTHS.

Nine months have already elapsed from the commencement of my

Journal; and I fear that, amid the heterogeneous matters that
succeed without order in it, I may have often lost sight of my
principal, my only, object—that which concerns Napoleon, and may
serve to characterize him. It is to make up for this, where necessary,
that I here attempt a summary in a few words; a summary which I
propose, moreover, on the same account, to repeat, in future, at
intervals of three months.
On quitting France, we remained for a month at the disposal of the
brutal and ferocious English Ministry; then our passage to St. Helena
occupied three months.
On our landing we occupied Briars nearly two months.
Lastly, we have been three months at Longwood.
Now, these nine months would have formed four very distinct
epochs, with one who had taken the pains to observe Napoleon.
All the time of our stay at Plymouth, Napoleon remained thoughtful,
and merely passive, exerting no power but that of patience. His
misfortunes were so great, and so incapable of remedy, that he
suffered events to take their course with stoic indifference.
During the whole of our passage, he constantly possessed a perfect
equanimity, and, above all, the most complete indifference; he
expressed no wish, shewed no disappointment. It is true, the
greatest respect was paid him; he received it without perceiving it;
he spoke little, and the subject was always foreign to himself. Any
one who, coming suddenly on board, had witnessed his
conversation, would undoubtedly have been far from guessing with
whom they were in company: it was not the Emperor. I cannot
better picture him in this situation than by comparing him to those
passengers of high distinction who are conveyed with great respect
to their destination.
Our abode at Briars presented another shade of difference.
Napoleon, left almost entirely to himself, receiving nobody,
constantly employed, seeming to forget events and men, enjoyed,
apparently, the calm and the peace of a profound solitude; either
from abstraction or contempt, not condescending to notice the
inconveniences or privations with which he was surrounded. If he
now and then dropped an expression relative to them, it was only
when roused by the importunity of some Englishman, or excited by
the recital of the outrages suffered by his attendants. His whole day
was occupied in dictation; the rest of the time dedicated to the
relaxation of familiar conversation. He never mentioned the affairs of
Europe; spoke rarely of the Empire, very little of the Consulate; but
much of his situation as General in Italy; still more, and almost
constantly, of the minutest details of his childhood and his early
youth. The latter subjects, especially, seemed at this time to have a
peculiar charm for him. One would have said that they afforded him
a perfect oblivion; they excited him even to gaiety. It was almost
exclusively with these objects that he employed the many hours of
his nightly walks by moonlight.
Finally, our establishment at Longwood was a fourth and last
change. All our situations hitherto had been but short and transitory.
This was fixed, and threatened to be lasting. There, in reality, were
to commence our exile and our new destinies. History will take them
up there; there the eyes of the world were to be directed to consider
us. The Emperor, seeming to make this calculation, regulates all
about him, and takes the attitude of dignity oppressed by power; he
traces around him a moral boundary, behind which he defends
himself, inch by inch, against indignity and insult. He no longer gives
way on any point to his persecutors; he shews himself sensibly
jealous in respect to forms, and hostile to all encroachment. The
English never doubted that habit would, in the end, produce
formality. The Emperor brings them to it from the first day, and the
most profound respect is manifested.
It was no small surprise to us, and no slight satisfaction to have to
observe among ourselves, that, without knowing how or why, it was
nevertheless perceptible that the Emperor now stood higher in the
opinion and the respect of the English than he had hitherto done:
we could even perceive that this sentiment was every day
increasing. With us the Emperor resumed entirely, in his
conversations, the examination of the affairs of Europe. He analyzed
the projects and the conduct of the Sovereigns: he compared them
with his own; weighed, decided, spoke of his reign, of his deeds; in
a word, we once more found him the Emperor, and all Napoleon. Not
that he had ever ceased to be so for an instant, as regarded our
devotion and our attentions; neither had we, on our side, had any
thing to endure from him in any respect.
Never did we experience a more even temper, a more constant
kindness, a more unaltered affection. It was, in fact, among us, as in
the midst of his family, that he concerted his attacks upon the
common enemy; and those which appear the most vigorous, and
seem to be dictated by anger, were, however, almost always
accompanied with some laughter or pleasantry.
The Emperor’s health, during the six months preceding our
establishment at Longwood, did not seem to undergo any change;
though his regimen was so completely altered. His hours, his food,
were no longer the same; his habits were completely deranged. He
who had been accustomed to so much exercise had been confined
all this time to a room. Bathing had become part of his existence,
and he was constantly deprived of it. It was not till after his arrival
at Longwood, and when he was again supplied with some of these
things, when he rode on horseback, and returned to the use of the
bath, that we began to perceive a sensible alteration.
It is a singular circumstance that, so long as he was uncomfortably
situated he suffered nothing; it was not till he was better off that he
was seen to be in pain. May it not be that, in the moral as in the
physical system, there is often a long interval between causes and
their effects?

DESCRIPTION OF THE EMPEROR’S APARTMENTS.—MINUTE DETAILS OF HIS

TOILET AND DRESS.—ABSURD REPORTS RESPECTING HIM.—CONSPIRACIES
OF GEORGES AND CERACHI.—ATTEMPT OF THE FANATIC OF SCHÖNBRUNN.

April 1st—2nd. All that is in any way connected with the Emperor
Napoleon must be worthy of observation, and will be held valuable
by thousands. With this conviction, I shall proceed minutely to
describe his apartment, its furniture, the details of his toilet, &c.
And, in course of time, may not his son one day take pleasure in re-
producing these details, picturing to himself the appearance of
distant objects, and seizing fleeting shadows, which to him will
perhaps supply the place of reality?
The Emperor’s own apartments consist of two chambers A and B,[6]
each 45 feet long and 42 broad, and about 7 feet high. A very
indifferent carpet covers the floor, and pieces of nankin, instead of
paper, line the walls of both rooms.
The bed-chamber A contains the little camp-bed a, in which the
Emperor sleeps, and the couch b, on which he reclines the greater
part of the day. This couch is covered with books, which seem to
dispute with the Emperor the right of possession to it. Beside this
couch stands a small table c, on which the Emperor breakfasts and
dines, when he takes his meals in his own chamber, and which, in
the evening, bears a candlestick with three branches, surmounted by
a large ornament. Between the two windows, and opposite to the
door, stands a chest of drawers d, containing the Emperor’s linen,
and on the top of which is his large dressing-case.
Over the fire-place e, hangs a very small glass, together with several
pictures. On the right is a portrait of the King of Rome sitting on a
sheep, by Aimée Thiebault—and on the left hangs, as a pendant to
it, another portrait of the young Prince, sitting on a cushion and
putting on a slipper. This picture is also the production of Thiebault.
Lower down is a small marble bust of the King of Rome. Two
candlesticks, two scent-bottles, and two cups of silver gilt, taken
from the Emperor’s cabinet, complete the arrangement and
decoration of the chimney-piece. Lastly, at the foot of the couch, and
directly in view of the Emperor when he reposes on it, which he
does the greater part of the day, hangs Isabey’s portrait of Maria
Louisa, holding her son in her arms. This wretched little closet has
thus become a family sanctuary. I must not omit to mention
Frederick the Great’s large silver watch, which is a sort of alarum. It
was taken at Potsdam and it hangs on the left of the chimney-piece,
beyond the portraits. The Emperor’s own watch, which hangs on the
right of the chimney, is the same that he used in the Campaigns of
Italy; it is enclosed in a gold case, marked with his cipher B:[7] These
are the contents of the first chamber.
In the second room B, which serves as a sort of study, along the
walls next the windows are several rough boards, supported by
trestles, on which are scattered a great number of books, and the
manuscripts that have been written from the Emperor’s dictation.
Between the two windows is a book-case g; and on the opposite
side stands another camp-bedstead h, similar to the one already
mentioned. On this bed the Emperor sometimes reposes in the day-
time; and he occasionally lies down on it, when he rises from the
other bed during his frequent sleepless nights, or when fatigued with
dictating, or walking about alone in his chamber. Lastly, in the middle
of the room stands the writing-table i, with marks indicating the
places usually occupied by the Emperor and each of us during his
dictations.
The Emperor dresses in his bed-room. When he takes off his clothes,
which he does without assistance, he throws them all upon the floor
if one of his valets happens not to be at hand to take them from
him. How many times have I stooped to pick up the cordon of the
Legion of Honour, when I have seen it thrown carelessly on the
ground!
Shaving, which is almost the last business of the Emperor’s toilet, is
not commenced until he has put on his stockings, shoes, &c. He
shaves himself: first taking off his shirt, and retaining only his flannel
waistcoat, which he had laid aside during the excessive heat we
experienced in crossing the Line, but which he was obliged to
resume at Longwood, in consequence of a severe attack of the
cholic; from this, however, the use of his flannel waistcoat speedily
relieved him.
The Emperor shaves in the recess of the window nearest to the fire-
place. His first valet de chambre hands him the soap and razor: and
the second holds before him the looking-glass of his dressing-case,
so that the Emperor may turn to the light the side that he is shaving.
It is the business of the second valet de chambre to tell him whether
or not he shaves clean. Having shaved one side, he turns completely
round to shave the other, and the valets change sides.
The Emperor then washes his face, and very frequently his head, in
a large silver basin f, which is fixed in a corner of the room, and
which was brought from the Elysée. The Emperor is very lusty; his
skin is white, with but few hairs; and he has a certain plumpness
which is unusual in the male sex, and to which he sometimes
jokingly alludes. He rubs his chest and arms with a tolerably hard
brush. He afterwards gives the brush to his valet de chambre, who
rubs his back and shoulders, and when in good humour he often
says, “Come, brush hard—as hard as if you were scrubbing an ass.”
He used almost to drown himself in eau de Cologne, at least, so long
as he had any at his disposal: but his store of this article was
speedily exhausted, and as none could be procured on the island, he
was reduced to the necessity of using lavender water; the want of
eau de Cologne he felt as a severe privation.
After he has had his back rubbed, or after he has finished shaving
each side of his beard, he sometimes good-humouredly looks his
valet in the face for a few seconds, and then gives him a smart box
on the ear, accompanied by some jocular expressions. This has been
construed by libelists and pamphleteers into the habit of cruelly
beating those who were about him. We all in our turns occasionally
received a pinch or a box on the ear; but from the expressions which
always accompanied the action, we thought ourselves very happy in
receiving such favours during the period of his power.
This calls to my recollection, and explains to me certain observations
which I once heard from the Duke Decrès, one of the Emperor’s
ministers. The Duke, when in the height of his glory and power,
wished to obtain a certain favour from the Emperor. He was
conversing with me on the subject, and after adverting to all his
chances of success, he said: “I shall have it after all, the first time I
get roughly treated.” And, remarking that my countenance
expressed surprise, he added with a significant smile: "But, my dear
fellow, after all ’tis not so terrible a thing as you imagine; many
would be happy to receive such usage, I assure you." ...
The Emperor does not leave his chamber until he is completely
dressed. He wears shoes in the morning, and does not put on his
boots until he rides out on horseback. When he first came to
Longwood, he laid aside his green uniform of the Guard, and wore a
hunting coat the lace of which had been taken off. This coat soon
began to look shabby, and his attendants were at a loss what to
substitute for it. This, however, was not the only inconvenience of
the kind to which he was exposed. For instance, we were much
distressed to see him reduced to the necessity of wearing one pair of
silk stockings for several days in succession; but he laughed
whenever we expressed our regret on this subject, or remarked that
it was easy to count the number of days the stockings had been
worn, by the marks which the shoes had left on them. In other
respects he retained his usual dress; namely, waistcoat and small
clothes of white kerseymere, and a black cravat. When he was going
out, any one of the gentlemen who happened to be in the room
handed to him his hat; that little hat which has in some measure
become identified with his person. Several of the Emperor’s hats
have been carried off since we have been on the island; for every
individual who approaches him is anxious to obtain some token of
remembrance of him. How often have we been tormented even by
persons of distinguished rank, to procure for them even a button of
his coat or any other trifle belonging to him.
I was almost always present at the Emperor’s toilet: sometimes I
remained after having finished my writing, and sometimes the
Emperor desired me to come and chat with him. One day I was
looking steadfastly at him as he put on his flannel waistcoat. My
countenance I suppose expressed something particular, for he said
in his good humoured way of addressing me: “Well, what does your
Excellency smile at? What are you thinking of at this
moment.”—"Sire, in a pamphlet which I lately read, I found it stated
that your Majesty was shielded by a coat of mail for the security of
your person. A report of the same kind was circulated among certain
classes in Paris; and in support of the assertion, allusion was made
to your Majesty’s sudden embonpoint, which was said to be quite
unnatural. I was just now thinking that I could bear positive
evidence to the contrary, and that at St. Helena, at least, all
precautions for personal safety have been laid aside."—"This is one
of the thousand absurdities that have been published respecting
me," said he. "But the story you have just mentioned is the more
ridiculous, since every person about me well knows how careless I
am in regard to self-preservation. Accustomed from the age of
eighteen to be exposed to cannon-balls, and knowing the inutility of
precautions, I abandoned myself to my fate. When I came to the
head of affairs, I might still have fancied myself surrounded by the
danger of the field of battle: and I might have regarded the
conspiracies that were formed against me as so many bomb-shells.
But I followed my old course; I trusted to my lucky star; and left all
precautions to the police. I was perhaps the only sovereign in
Europe who dispensed with a body guard. Every one could freely
approach me without having, as it were, to pass through military
barracks; the sentinels at the outer gates being passed, all had free
access to every part of my palace. Maria Louisa was much
astonished to see me so poorly guarded; and she often remarked
that her father was surrounded by bayonets. For my part, I had no
better defence at the Tuileries than I have here: I don’t even know
where to find my sword; do you see it?" said he, looking about for
it.... “I have, to be sure,” he continued, "incurred great dangers.
Upwards of thirty plots were formed against me: these have been
proved by authentic testimony, without mentioning many that never
came to light. Some sovereigns invent conspiracies against
themselves; for my part, I made it a rule carefully to conceal them
whenever I could. The crisis most serious to me was during the
interval between the battle of Marengo and the attempt of Georges,
and the affair of the Duke d’Enghien."
Napoleon related that about a week before the arrest of Georges, a
petition had been delivered into his own hands, on the parade, by
one of the most determined of the conspirators. Others insinuated
themselves among the household at St. Cloud or Malmaison; finally
Georges himself seems to have been so near his person as to have
been in the same apartment with him.
Independently of good luck, the Emperor attributes his safety, in a
great measure, to certain circumstances which were peculiar to
himself. That which had doubtless, he said, contributed to preserve
him was his having lived after his own fancy; without any regular
habits or fixed plan. His close occupations kept him much at home,
and almost constantly confined him to his closet. He never dined
abroad, seldom visited the theatres, and never appeared but at
those times and places at which he was not expected.
As we were descending to the garden after the Emperor had finished
dressing, he observed to me that the two designs on his life which
had placed him in the most imminent danger were those of Cerachi
the sculptor, and the fanatic of Schönbrunn. Cerachi, and some other
desperate wretches, had laid a plan for assassinating the First
Consul. They agreed to carry their design into execution at the
moment of his withdrawing from his box at the theatre. Napoleon,
who received intimation of the plot nevertheless proceeded to the
theatre, and fearlessly passed by the conspirators, who had shown
themselves most eager to occupy their respective stations. They
were not arrested until about the middle or near the close of the
performance.
Cerachi, said the Emperor, had formerly adored the First Consul; but
he vowed to sacrifice him, when, as he pretended, he proved himself
a tyrant. This artist had been loaded with favours by General
Bonaparte, whose bust he had executed; and, when he entered into
the plot against his benefactor, he endeavoured by every possible
means to procure another sitting, under pretence of making an
essential improvement on the bust. Fortunately, at that time, the
Consul had not a single moment’s leisure, and, thinking that want
was the real cause of the urgent solicitations of the sculptor, he sent
him six thousand francs. But how was he mistaken! Cerachi’s real
motive was to stab him during the sitting.
The conspiracy was disclosed by a captain of the line, who was
himself an accomplice. “This,” said Napoleon, “was a proof of the
strange modifications of which the human mind is susceptible, and
shows to what lengths the combinations of folly and stupidity may
be carried! This officer regarded me with horror as First Consul,
though he had adored me as a General. He wished to see me driven
from my post, but he rejected the idea of any attempt upon my life.
He wished that I should be secured, but would not have me injured
in any way; and he proposed that I should be sent back to the army
to face the enemy and defend the glory of France. The rest of the
conspirators laughed at these notions; but, when he found that they
were distributing poniards and going far beyond his intentions, he
then came and disclosed the whole to the Consul.”
As we were discoursing on this subject, some one present
mentioned having witnessed at the Theatre Feydeau, a circumstance
which threw a part of the audience into the greatest consternation.
The Emperor entered the Empress Josephine’s box, and had scarcely
taken his seat, when a young man hastily jumped upon the bench
immediately below the Box, and placed his hand on the Emperor’s
breast. The spectators on the opposite side were filled with alarm.
Fortunately, however, the young man was merely presenting a
petition, which the Emperor received and read with the utmost
coolness.
The Emperor described the Fanatic of Schönbrunn, as the son of a
protestant minister of Erfurt, who, about the time of the battle of
Wagram, had laid a plan for the assassination of Napoleon, with all
due parade. He had passed the sentinels at some distance from the
Emperor, and had twice or thrice been driven back, when General
Rapp, in the act of pushing him aside with his hand, felt something
concealed under his coat. This proved to be a knife about a foot and
a half long, pointed, and sharp at both edges. “I shuddered to look
at it,” said the Emperor; “it was merely rolled up in a piece of
newspaper.”
Napoleon ordered the assassin to be brought into his closet. He
called Corvisart, and directed him to feel the criminal’s pulse while
he spoke to him. The assassin stood unmoved, confessing his
intended crime, and frequently making quotations from the Bible.
“What was your purpose here?” enquired the Emperor. “To kill you.”
“What have I done to offend you? By whose authority do you
constitute yourself my Judge?”—"I wish to put an end to the war."
“And why not address yourself to the Emperor Francis?” “To him!”
said the assassin, “and wherefore? he is a mere cipher. And besides,
if he were dead, another would succeed him; but, when you are
gone, the French will immediately retire from Germany.” The
Emperor vainly endeavoured to move him. “Do you repent?” said he.
“No.” “Would you again attempt the perpetration of your intended
crime?” “Yes.” “What, if I were to pardon you?” Here, said the
Emperor, nature for an instant resumed her sway; the man’s
countenance and voice underwent a momentary change. “Even
though you do,” said he, “God will not forgive me.” But he
immediately resumed his ferocious expression. He was kept in
solitary confinement and without food for four-and-twenty hours.
The Doctor examined him once more. He was again questioned, but
all was unavailing; he still remained the same man, or, to speak
more properly, the same ferocious brute. He was at length
abandoned to his fate.

MEASURES THAT MIGHT HAVE BEEN ADOPTED AFTER

THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO.

3rd.—In the morning the Emperor dictated in the shady part of the
garden. The day was delightfully clear and serene. He had been
reading the account of Alexander’s expedition in Rollin’s History; and
had several maps spread out before him. He complained that the
narrative was destitute of taste, and without any proper plan. He
observed that it afforded no just idea of the grand views of
Alexander; and he expressed a wish himself to write an account of
the expedition.
About five o’clock, I joined him in the garden, where he was
walking, attended by all the gentlemen. As soon as he perceived me,
he said: “Come, we must have your opinion on a point which we
have been discussing for the last hour. On my return from Waterloo,
do you think I could have dismissed the Legislative Body, and have
saved France without it?”—"No," I replied, “it would not have been
dissolved voluntarily. You would have found it necessary to employ
force; which would have excited protestations, and would have been
regarded as scandalous. The dissatisfaction excited in the Legislative
Body would have spread through the whole nation. Meanwhile the
enemy would have arrived; and your Majesty must have succumbed,
accused by all Europe, accused by foreigners, and even by
Frenchmen; perhaps loaded with universal maledictions, regarded
merely as an adventurer carrying every thing by violence. But as it
was, your Majesty issued pure and unsullied from the conflict, and
your memory will be everlastingly cherished in the hearts of those
who respect the cause of the people. Your Majesty has, by your
moderation, ensured to yourself the brightest character in history,
while, by a different line of conduct, you might have incurred the
risk of reprobation. You have lost your power, it is true; but you have
attained the summit of your glory.”
“Well, this is partly my own opinion,” said the Emperor. "But after all,
am I certain that the French people will do me justice? Will they not
accuse me of having abandoned them? History will decide! Instead
of dreading, I invoke, its decree!—I have often asked myself
whether I have done for the French people all that they could expect
of me; for that people did much for me. Will they ever know all that
I suffered during the night that preceded my final decision?
"In that night of anguish and uncertainty, I had to choose between
two great courses: the one was to endeavour to save France by
violence; and the other was to yield to the general impulse. The
measure which I pursued was, I think, most advisable. Friends and
enemies, the good and the evil disposed, all were against me, and I
stood alone. I could not but yield, and my decision being once
adopted, could not be revoked. I am not one who takes half
measures; and, besides, sovereignty is not to be thrown off and on
like one’s cloak. The other course demanded extraordinary severity.
It would have been necessary to arraign great criminals and to
decree great punishments. Blood must have been shed; and then
who can tell where we should have stopped! What scenes of horror
might not have been renewed! By pursuing this line of conduct,
should I not have drowned my memory in the deluge of blood,
crimes, and abominations of every kind, with which libellers have
already overwhelmed me? Should I not thereby have seemed to
justify all that they have been pleased to invent? Posterity and
History would have viewed me as a second Nero or Tiberius. If, after
all, I could have saved France at such a price!... I had energy
sufficient to carry me through every difficulty!... But, is it certain that
I should have succeeded? All our dangers did not come from
without; the worst existed in our internal discord. Did not a party of
mad fools dispute about shades, before they had ensured the
triumph of the colour? How would it have been possible to persuade
them that I was not labouring for myself alone, for my own personal
advantage? How could I convince them of my disinterestedness, or
prove that all my efforts were directed to save the country? To
whom could I point out the dangers and miseries from which I
sought to rescue the French people? They were evident to me, but
the vulgar mass will ever remain in ignorance of them until they are
crushed beneath their weight.
“What answer could be given to those who exclaimed: Behold the
despot, the tyrant! again violating the oaths which he took but
yesterday! and who knows whether amidst this tumult, this
inextricable complication of difficulties, I might not have perished by
the hand of a Frenchman, in the civil conflict! Then how would
France have appeared in the eyes of the universe, in the estimation
of future generations? The glory of France is to identify herself with
me. I could not have achieved so many great deeds for her honour
and glory without the nation, and in spite of the nation. France was
inclined to elevate me to too high a point!... As I said before, History
will decide!...”
He then adverted to the plan and details of the Campaign, dwelling
with pleasure on its glorious commencement, and with regret on the
terrible disaster that marked its close.
“Still,” continued he, "I should have considered the state of affairs as
by no means desperate, had I obtained the aid I expected. All our
resources rested in the Chambers. I hastened to convince them of
this; but they immediately rose against me, under pretence that I
was come to dissolve them. What an absurdity! From that moment
all was lost.[8]
“It would perhaps be unjust,” added the Emperor, "to accuse the
majority of the Members of the Chambers; but such is the nature of
all numerous bodies that they must perish, if disunited. Like armies,
they must have leaders. The chiefs of armies are appointed; but, in
constituted bodies, men of eminent talent and genius rise up and
rule them. We wanted all this, and, therefore, in spite of the good
spirit which might have animated the majority, all were, in an
instant, plunged into confusion and tumult. The Legislative Body had
perfidy and corruption stationed at its doors, while incapacity,
disorder, and perversity prevailed in its bosom; and thus France
became the prey of foreigners.
"For a moment, I entertained the idea of resistance. I was on the
point of declaring myself permanently at the Tuileries, along with my
Ministers and Councillors of State. I had thoughts of rallying round
me the six thousand guards who were in Paris, augmenting them
with the best disposed portion of the National Guard, who were very
numerous, and the federate troops of the Faubourgs; of adjourning
the Legislative Body to Tours or Blois; re-organizing before the walls
of Paris, the wrecks of the army, and thus exerting my efforts singly,
as a Dictator, for the welfare of the country. But would the
Legislative Body have obeyed? I might have enforced obedience, it is
true; but this would have been a new cause of scandal, and a fresh
source of difficulties. Would the people have made common cause
with me? Would even the army have continued constantly faithful to
me? In the succession of events, might not both the people and the
army have been separated from me? Might not plans have been
arranged to my prejudice? The idea that so many dangers were
caused by me alone might have served as a plausible pretext, and
the facilities which every one had experienced during the preceding
year in gaining favour with the Bourbons, might to many have
become decisive inducements.
“Yes,” continued the Emperor, "I hesitated long, I weighed every
argument on both sides; and I at length concluded that I could not
make head against the coalition without and the royalists within:
that I should be unable to oppose the numerous sects which would
have been created by the violence committed on the Legislative
Body, to control that portion of the multitude which must be driven
by force, or to resist that moral condemnation which imputes to him
who is unfortunate every evil that ensues. Abdication was therefore
absolutely the only step I could adopt. All was lost in spite of me. I
foresaw and foretold this: but still I had no other alternative.
“The Allies always pursued the same system against me. They began
it at Prague, continued it at Frankfort, at Chatillon, at Paris, and at
Fontainbleau. Their conduct displayed considerable judgment. The
French might have been duped in 1814; but it is difficult to conceive
how they could have been deceived in 1815. History will for ever
tarnish the memory of those who suffered themselves to be misled.
I foretold their fate when I was departing to join the army: Let us
not resemble, I said, the Greeks of the Lower Empire, who amused
themselves in debating while the battering-ram was levelling the
walls of their city. And, when forced to abdicate, I said, Our enemies
wish to separate me from the army; when they shall have
succeeded, they will separate the army from you. You will then be
merely a wretched flock, the prey of wild beasts.”
We asked the Emperor whether he thought that, with the
concurrence of the Legislative Body, he could have saved France? He
replied, without hesitation, that he would confidently have
undertaken to do so, and that he would have answered for his
success.
“In less than a fortnight,” continued he, "that is to say, before any
considerable mass of the allied force could have assembled before
Paris, I should have completed my fortifications, and have collected
before the walls of the city, and out of the wrecks of the army,
upwards of eighty thousand good troops, and three hundred pieces
of horse artillery. After a few days’ firing, the national guard, the
federal troops, and the inhabitants of Paris, would have sufficed to
defend the entrenchments. I should have had eighty thousand
disposable troops at my command. It is well known how
advantageously I was capable of employing this force.—The
achievements of 1814 were still fresh in remembrance.
Champaubert, Montmirail, Craon, Montereau, were still present in
the imagination of our enemies; the same scenes would have
revived the recollection of the prodigies of the preceding year. I was
then surnamed the hundred thousand men.
"The rapidity and decision of our successes gave rise to this name.
The conduct of the French troops was most admirable. Never did a
handful of brave men accomplish so many miracles. If their high
achievements have never been publicly known, owing to the
circumstances which attended our disasters, they have at least been
duly appreciated by our enemies, who counted the number of our
attacks by our victories. We were truly the heroes of fable!
“Paris,” said he, "would in a few days have become impregnable.
The appeal to the nation, the magnitude of the danger, the
excitement of the public mind, the grandeur of the spectacle, would
have drawn multitudes to the capital. I could undoubtedly have
assembled upwards of four hundred thousand men, and I imagine
the allied force did not exceed five hundred thousand. Thus the
affair would have been brought to a single combat, in which the
enemy would have had as much to fear as ourselves. He would have
hesitated, and thus I should have regained the confidence of the
majority.
“Meanwhile I should have surrounded myself with a national senate
or junta selected from among the members of the Legislative Body—
men distinguished by national names, and worthy of general
confidence. I should have fortified my military Dictatorship with all
the strength of civil opinion. I should have had my tribune, which
would have promulgated the talisman of my principles through
Europe. The Sovereigns would have trembled to behold the
contagion spread among their subjects. They must have treated with
me, or have surrendered....”
“But, Sire,” we exclaimed, “why did you not attempt what would
infallibly have succeeded?—Why are we here?”
“Now,” resumed the Emperor, “you are blaming and condemning me!
But, if you were to take a view of the contrary chances, you would
change your tone. Besides, you forget that we reasoned on the
hypothesis that the Legislative Body would have joined me; but you
know what line of conduct it pursued. I might have dissolved it, to
be sure. France and Europe perhaps blame me, and posterity will
doubtless censure my weakness, in not breaking up the Legislative
Body after its insurrection. It will be said, that I ought not to have
separated myself from the destinies of a people who had done all for
me. But by dissolving the Assembly, I could at most have obtained
only a capitulation from the enemy. In that case, I again repeat,
blood must have been shed, and I must have proved myself a
tyrant. I had however arranged a plan on the night of the 20th, and
on the 21st measures of the most rigid severity were to have been
adopted; but before the return of day, the dictates of humanity and
prudence warned me that such a course was not to be thought of,
that I should miss my aim, and that every one was merely seeking
blindly to accommodate himself to circumstances. But I must not
begin again. I have already said too much on a subject which always
revives painful recollections. I repeat once more that History will
decide.”—The Emperor returned to his chamber desiring me to follow
him. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
4th. At 5 o’clock I went to meet the Emperor in the garden. He had
taken too warm a bath, and in consequence found himself ill. We
rode out in the calash, the weather was delightful: for several days it
had been very warm and dry. Before dinner the Emperor dictated to
the Grand Marshal. Madame Bertrand dined at the Admiral’s. The
Emperor withdrew to his chamber immediately after dinner.

CHARACTERISTIC TRAITS.

5th—8th. During these four days, the Emperor invariably rode out on
horseback about six or seven in the morning, accompanied only by
me and my son.
I am enabled to affirm that I never saw Napoleon swayed either by
passion or prejudice, that is to say, I never knew him to pronounce a
judgment on men and things that was not dictated by reason. Even
when he displays what perhaps may be called anger, it is merely the
effect of transitory feeling, and never influences his actions; but I
can truly say that, during the eighteen years in which I have had the
opportunity of observing his character, I never knew him to act in
contradiction to reason.
Another fact which has come to my knowledge, and which I note
down here because it recurs to my memory at this moment, is that,
either from nature, calculation, or the habit of preserving dignity, he
for the most part represses and conceals the painful sensations
which he experiences, and still more, perhaps, the kind emotions of
his heart. I have frequently observed him repressing feelings of
sensibility, as if he thought that they compromised his character. Of
this I shall hereafter adduce proofs. Meanwhile, the following
characteristic trait so perfectly corresponds with the object of this
journal, namely, that of showing the man as he really is, and seizing
nature in the fact, that I cannot refrain from mentioning it.
For some days past, Napoleon seemed to have something deeply at
heart. A domestic circumstance which had occurred vexed and
ruffled him exceedingly. During the last three days, in our rides
about the park, he several times alluded to this circumstance with
considerable warmth, desiring me to keep close by his side, and
ordering my son to ride on before. On one of these occasions the
following observation escaped him:—"I know I am fallen. But to feel
this among you!"... These words, the gesture, the tone that
accompanied them, pierced my very heart. I was ready to throw
myself at his feet, and embrace his knees. “I know,” continued he,
“that man is frequently unreasonable and susceptible. Thus, when I
am mistrustful of myself, I asked, should I have been treated so at
the Tuileries? This is my sure test.”
He then spoke of himself, of us, of our reciprocal relations, of our
situation in the island, and the influence which our individual
circumstances might enable us to exercise. His reflections on these
subjects were numerous, powerful, and just. In the emotion with
which this conversation inspired me, I exclaimed: “Sire, permit me to
take this affair upon myself. It certainly never could have been
viewed in this light. If the matter were explained, I am sure it would
excite deep sorrow and repentance! I only ask permission to say a
single word.” The Emperor replied with dignity:—"No, sir; I forbid it.
I have opened my heart to you. Nature has had her course. I shall
forget it; and you must seem never to have known it."
On our return, we breakfasted all together in the garden, and the
Emperor was more than usually cheerful. In the evening he dined in
his own apartment.

POLITICS.—THE STATE OF EUROPE.—IRRESISTIBLE

ASCENDANCY OF LIBERAL OPINIONS.

9th-10th. On the 9th a ship arrived from England, bringing papers to

the 21st of January. The Emperor continued his morning rides on
horseback, and passed the rest of the day in examining the
newspapers in his own chamber. The contents of these late papers
were not less interesting than those which we had already
examined. The agitation in France continued to increase; the King of
Prussia had issued proclamations respecting secret societies; a
misunderstanding had arisen between Austria and Bavaria; in
England the persecution of the French Protestants, and the violence
of the party which was gaining the ascendancy, agitated the public
mind, and gave arms to the Opposition. Europe never presented a
more violent fermentation.
On perusing the account of the deluge of evils and sanguinary
events which overwhelmed all the French departments, the Emperor
rose from his couch, and, stamping his foot violently on the ground,
he exclaimed! “How unfortunate was I in not proceeding to America!
From the other hemisphere I might have protected France against
re-action! The dread of my re-appearance would have been a check
on their violence and folly. My name would have sufficed to bridle
their excesses, and to fill them with terror.”
Then, continuing the same subject, he said with a degree of
warmth, bordering on inspiration, "the counter-revolution, even had
it been suffered to proceed, must inevitably have been lost in the
grand revolution. The atmosphere of modern ideas is sufficient to
stifle the old feudalists; for henceforth nothing can destroy or efface
the grand principles of our revolution. Those great and excellent
truths can never cease to exist, so completely are they blended with
our fame, our monuments, and our prodigies. We have washed away
their first stains in the flood of glory, and they will henceforth be
immortal. Created in the French tribune, cemented with the blood of
battles, adorned with the laurels of victory, saluted with the
acclamations of the people, sanctioned by the treaties and alliances
of Sovereigns, and having become familiar to the ears as well as in
the mouths of Kings, these principles can never again retrograde!
“Liberal ideas flourish in Great Britain, they enlighten America, and
they are nationalized in France; and this may be called the tripod
whence issues the light of the world! Liberal opinions will rule the
universe. They will become the faith, the religion, the morality of all
nations; and, in spite of all that may be advanced to the contrary,
this memorable era will be inseparably connected with my name; for,
after all, it cannot be denied that I kindled the torch and consecrated
the principles; and now persecution renders me quite their Messiah.
Friends and foes, all must acknowledge me to be their first soldier,
their grand representative. Thus even when I shall be no more, I
shall still continue to be the leading star of the nations....”

THE EMPEROR’S OPINION OF SEVERAL CELEBRATED MEN.—POZZO DI BORGO—

METTERNICH—BASSANO—CLARKE—CAMBACÉRÈS—LEBRUN—FOUCHÉ, &C.

11th—12th. The Emperor took advantage of every fine morning to

ride on horseback. He breakfasted in the garden; and the
conversation was afterwards maintained with great freedom and
interest on the events of his own private life, on public affairs, on the
individuals who surrounded his person, and those who have played a
conspicuous part in the other Courts of Europe.
The English lessons were no longer thought of; they were continued
only in our rides or walks during the day time. What the Emperor
thus lost in grammatical accuracy he gained in facility of expression.
About five o’clock on the 11th, we took our usual airing in the
calash. In the evening we resumed our ministerial anecdotes and
conversations on celebrated persons. Napoleon gave us the history
of M. Pozzo di Borgo, his countryman, who had been a Member of
the Legislative Body. It was he, it is said, who advised the Emperor
Alexander to march upon Paris, even though Napoleon should have
attacked his rear. “And thus,” said the Emperor, “he decided the fate
of France, of European civilization, and the destinies of the whole
world. He had acquired great influence in the Russian Cabinet."
He also gave us the history of M. Capo d’Istria. He then spoke of M.
de Metternich.
The Emperor next spoke of his own Ministers; of Bassano, whom he
believed to have been sincerely attached to him; Clarke, to whose
character Time, he said, would do ample justice; C.... whom late
events had shewn to have been worth but little. The Emperor had
successively appointed him Ambassador to Vienna, Minister of the
interior, and Minister for foreign affairs. Talleyrand, observed the
Emperor, described his character in a word, when he said of him,
with his usual point and ill-natured spirit, that he was a man who
could make himself fit for any place on the day before his
appointment to it.
The conversation next turned on M. Cambacérès, whom Napoleon
called the man of abuses; observing that he had a decided
inclination for the old regime. Lebrun, on the contrary, had a
predilection to the opposite extreme. He, said the Emperor, was the
man of idealisms. These two men, he observed, were the
counterpoises between which the First Consul had placed himself,
and he in his turn was humourously called the consolidated third.
Messrs. de T.... and Fouché were next spoken of. After saying a
great deal respecting both, the Emperor proceeded to make some
energetic remarks on the morality of individuals connected with the
ministry in France, and generally of all functionaries or men in office;
on their want of political faith, or national feeling, which led them to
serve indifferently one person to-day, and another to-morrow. “This
levity, this inconsistency,” said he, “has descended to us from
antiquity. We still remain Gauls, and our character will never be
complete, until we learn to substitute principles for turbulence, pride
for vanity, and, above all, the love of institutions for the love of
place.”
The Emperor concluded that, at the close of our late events, the
Monarchs of Europe must necessarily have retained a retrospective
feeling of scorn and contempt for the great people who had thus
sported with Sovereignty. “But,” said he, “the excuse may perhaps
be found in the nature of things, and in the power of circumstances.
Democracy raises up Sovereignty, aristocracy preserves it. Mine had
neither taken a root deep enough, nor acquired sufficient spirit. At
the moment of the crisis it was still connected with democracy; and
it mingled with the multitude instead of becoming the sheet-anchor
to secure the people from the fury of the tempest, and to guide
them in their blindness.”
The following are some fresh particulars respecting M. de T—— and
M. Fouché, whose names have so frequently been mentioned. I
endeavour as much as possible to avoid repetitions.