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 dictating to the different persons of his suite; and he usually reserved me for the interval preceding dinner, which was not served until eight or nine o’clock. He required my attendance about five or six o'clock, together with my son. I could neither write nor read, owing to the state of my eyes; but my son was enabled to supply my place. He wrote to the Emperor’s dictation, and I was present only to help him afterwards to correct his hasty scrawl; for, by dint of habit, I could repeat, almost literally and entirely, all that had fallen from the Emperor.
The Campaign of Italy being now finished, we began to revise it, and the Emperor corrected, and dictated anew. We dined, as I have before observed, between eight and nine o’clock. The table was laid out in the room nearest to the entrance of the house. Madame de Montholon sat on the right of the Emperor; I on his left; and Messrs. de Montholon, Gourgaud, and my son, sat in the opposite places. The room still smelled of paint, particularly when the weather was damp; and though not very offensive, it was sufficiently annoying to the Emperor: we, therefore, sat no longer than ten minutes at table. The dessert was prepared in the adjoining apartment, which was the drawing-room, and we again seated ourselves round the table. Coffee was then served up, and conversation commenced. We read a few scenes from Moliere, Racine, and Voltaire, and always regretted not having a copy of Corneille. We then played at reversis, which had been the Emperor’s favourite game in his youth. The recollection was pleasing to him, and he at first thought that he could amuse himself for a length of time at it; but he was soon undeceived. We played at the game and all its varieties; which made it so complex that I have seen from fifteen to eighteen thousand counters in use at once. The Emperor’s aim was always to make the reversis; that is to say, to make every trick, which is no easy matter. However, he frequently succeeded:—character developes itself every where and in every thing. We retired about ten or eleven o’clock.
To-day, the 19th, when I paid my respects to the Emperor, he shewed me a libel upon himself which had fallen into his hands, and asked me to translate it. Amidst a mass of other nonsense, some private letters were mentioned, which were said to have been addressed by Napoleon to the Empress Josephine, under the solemn form of Madame et chère Epouse. Allusion was next made to a combination of spies and agents, by whose aid the Emperor knew the private affairs of every family in France, and penetrated the secrets of all the cabinets in Europe. The Emperor wished to proceed no farther, and made me lay aside the book, saying,—“It is too absurd.” The fact is that, in his private correspondence, Napoleon always addressed the Empress Josephine very unfashionably by the pronoun “thou” (tu); and “my good little Louisa” (ma bonne petite Louise) was the form by which he addressed Maria Louisa.
The first time I ever saw the Emperor’s running-hand was at Saint-Cloud, after the battle of Friedland, when the Empress Josephine amused herself by making us try to decipher a note which she held in her hand, and which seemed to be written in hieroglyphics. It was to the following effect:—“My sons have once more shed a lustre over my career: the victory of Friedland will be inscribed in history, beside those of Marengo, Austerlitz, and Jena. You will cause the cannon to be fired; Cambaceres will publish the bulletin.”
I was again favoured with the sight of a note in the Emperor’s hand-writing, at the time of the treaty of Tilsit. It contained the following:—“The Queen of Prussia is really a charming