of twenty years, been an inveterate foe: to suppose their magnanimity equal to his own: to honour their laws so far as to believe that they would protect him from the ostracism of Europe:—certainly such ideas and sentiments are not the reverse of sublime, noble, and great.
At this part of my journal were inserted several pages, full of details very discreditable to the Archbishop of Malines, which were received from the Emperor’s own mouth, or collected from the different individuals about him. I however strike them out, in consideration of the satisfaction which I was informed the Emperor subsequently experienced in perusing M. de Pradt’s Concordats. For my own part, I am perfectly satisfied with numerous other testimonies of the same nature, and derived from the same source. An honourable and voluntary acknowledgment is a thousand times better than all the retorts that can be heaped upon an offender. There are persons to whom atonement is not without its due weight; I am one of these.
Just as I had written the above, I happened to read some lines from the pen of the Abbé de Pradt, which are certainly very fine with respect to diction; but which are still finer on account of their justice and truth. I cannot refrain from transcribing them here; as they make ample amends for those already quoted. A declaration of the Allied Sovereigns at Laybach, in which Napoleon was, in terms of reprobation, pronounced to be the representative of the Revolution, called forth the following observations from the Archbishop of Malines:—
“It is too late to insult Napoleon, now that he is defenceless, after having for so many years crouched at his feet, while he had the power to punish.... Those who are armed should respect a disarmed enemy, and the glory of the conqueror depends in a great measure on the consideration shewn towards the captive, particularly when he yields to superior force, not to superior genius. It is too late to call Napoleon a revolutionist, after having for such a length of time pronounced him to be the restorer of order in France, and, through France, in Europe. It is too late for those to aim the shaft of insult at him who once stretched forth their hands to him as a friend, pledged their faith to him as an ally, and sought to prop a tottering throne by mingling their blood with his.” Farther on he says: “He the representative of the revolution! The revolution broke the bonds of union between France and Rome: he renewed them. The revolution overthrew the temples of the Almighty: he restored them. The revolution created two classes of clergy hostile to each other: he reconciled them. The revolution profaned St. Denis: he purified it, and offered expiation to the ashes of Kings. The revolution subverted the throne: he raised it up, and gave it a new lustre. The revolution banished from their country the nobility of France: he opened to them the gates of France and of his palace, though he knew them to be his irreconcileable enemies, and for the most part the enemies of the public institutions; he reincorporated them with the society from which they had been separated. This representative of a revolution, which is distinguished by the epithet anti-social, brought from Rome the head of the Catholic Church, to anoint his brow with the oil that consecrates diadems! This representative of a revolution, which has been declared hostile to sovereignty, filled Germany with kings, advanced the rank of princes, restored superior royalty, and re-constructed a defaced model. This representative of a revolution which is condemned as a principle of anarchy, like another Justinian, drew up, amidst the din of war and the snares of foreign policy, those codes which are the least defective portion of human legislature, and constructed the most vigorous machine of government in the whole world. This representative of a revolution, which is vulgarly accused of having subverted all institutions, restored universities and public schools, filled his empire with the masterpieces of art, and accomplished those amazing and stupendous works which reflect honour on human genius: and yet, in the face of the Alps, which bowed down at his command; of the ocean, subdued at Cherbourg, at Flushing, at the Helder, and at Antwerp; of rivers, smoothly flowing beneath the bridges of Jena, Serres, Bourdeaux, and Turin; of canals, uniting seas together in a course beyond the control of Neptune; finally, in the face of Paris, metamorphosed as it is by Napoleon,—he is pronounced to be the agent of general destruction! He who restored all, is said to be the representative of that which destroyed all! To what undiscerning men is this language supposed to be addressed? &c.”
MY SITUATION MATERIALLY IMPROVED.—MY
BED-CHAMBER CHANGED, &C.
17th.—The Emperor summoned me at two o’clock, when he began to dress. On entering, he observed that I looked pale: I replied that it might be owing to the atmosphere of my chamber, which, from its proximity to the kitchen, was an absolute oven, being frequently filled with smoke. He then expressed a wish that I should constantly occupy the topographic cabinet, in which I might write during the day, and sleep at night, in a bed which the Admiral had fitted up for the Emperor himself, but which he did not make use of as he preferred his own camp-bed. When he had finished dressing, and was choosing between two or three snuff-boxes, which lay before him, he abruptly gave one to his valet-de-chambre (Marchand): “Put that by,” said he, “it is always meeting my eye, and it pains me.” I know not what was on this snuff-box; but I imagine it was a portrait of the King of Rome.
The Emperor left his apartment, and I followed him; he went over the house, and entered my chamber. Seeing a dressing-glass, he inquired whether it was the one that he had given me. Then putting his hand to the wall, which was heated by the kitchen, he again observed that I could not possibly remain in that room, and absolutely insisted on my occupying his bed in the topographic cabinet: adding, in a tone of captivating kindness, that it was “the bed of a friend.” We walked out, and proceeded towards a wretched farm which was within sight. On our way we saw the barracks of the Chinese. These Chinese are labouring men, who enlist on board English ships at Macao, and who continue at St. Helena in the service of the East India Company for a certain number of years, when they return to their homes, after collecting a little store of money, as the people of Auvergne do in France. The Emperor wished to ask them some questions: but we could not make ourselves understood by them. We next visited what is called Longwood Farm, The Emperor was seduced by the name; he expected to find one of the delightful farms of Flanders or England; but this was merely on a level with our lowest metairies. We afterwards went down to the Company’s garden, which is formed in the hollow where the two opposite ravines meet. The Emperor called the gardener, and the man who attends to the Company’s cattle and superintends the Chinese, of whom he asked many questions. He returned home very much fatigued, though we had scarcely walked a mile: this was his first excursion.
Before dinner the Emperor summoned me and my son to our accustomed task. He said that I had been idle, and called my attention to my son, who was laughing behind my back. He asked why he laughed; and I replied that it was probably because his Majesty was taking revenge for him. “Ah!” said he, smiling, “I see I am acting the part of the grandfather here.”
HABITS AND HOURS OF THE EMPEROR.—HIS STYLE TO THE TWO EMPRESSES.—DETAILS.—THE EMPEROR’S MAXIMS ON THE SUBJECT OF THE POLICE.—SECRET POLICE FOR THE EXAMINATION OF LETTERS.—CURIOUS PARTICULARS.—THE EMPEROR FAVOURABLE TO A FIXED AND MODERATE SYSTEM OF GOVERNMENT.
18th—19th. By degrees our hours and habits began to be fixed and regular. About ten o’clock the Emperor breakfasted in his own chamber, and one of us occasionally attended him. At the table of the household we breakfasted at nearly the same hour. The Emperor granted us permission to do the honours of this table as we pleased, and to invite to it whomsoever we might think fit.
No hours were yet fixed for the Emperor’s walks. The heat was very great during the day, and the damp came on speedily and profusely towards evening. We were informed, some time before, that coach and saddle horses were coming from the Cape; but they never arrived. During the day the Emperor was engaged in
