We returned to the topographical cabinet: the rain continued to fall, he gave up his promenade; but he regretted that the Grand Marshal had not arrived; he felt himself this day inclined for work, which he had discontinued for a fortnight. He endeavoured to kill time, whilst waiting for Bertrand. “Let us go and see Madame de Montholon,” said he to me. I announced him; he sat down, made me do the same; and we talked about furniture and housekeeping. He then began to form an inventory of the articles in the apartment, piece by piece; and we all agreed that the furniture was not worth more than thirty Napoleons. Leaving Madame de Montholon’s, he ran from room to room, and stopped in front of the staircase in the corridor which leads to the servants’ room above; it is a kind of very steep ladder. “Let us look at Marchand’s apartment,” said he; “they say that he keeps it like that of a petite maîtresse.” We climbed up; Marchand was there; his little room is clean; he has pasted paper upon it, which he has painted himself. His bed was without curtains: Marchand does not sleep so far from his master’s door; at Briars, he and the two other valets-de-chambre constantly slept upon the ground, across the Emperor’s doorway, so close that, whenever I came away late, I was obliged to step over them. The Emperor ordered the presses to be opened; they contained nothing but his linen and his clothes; the whole was not considerable, yet he was astonished to find himself still so rich. “How many pair of spurs have I?” said he, taking up a pair. “Four pair,” answered Marchand. “Are any of them more remarkable than the rest?”—“No, Sire.”—“Well, I will give a pair of them to Las Cases. Are these old?” “Yes, Sire, they are almost worn out; your Majesty wore them in the campaign of Dresden, and in that of Paris.”—“Here,” said he, giving them to me; “these are for you.” I could have wished that he would have permitted me to receive them on my knees. I felt that I was really receiving something connected with the glorious days of Champaubert, Montmirail, Nangis, Montereau! Was there ever a more appropriate memorial of chivalry, in the times of Amadis? “Your Majesty is making me a knight,” said I; “but how am I to win these spurs? I cannot pretend to achieve any feat of arms; and as to love and devotion, Sire, all I have to bestow has long since been disposed of.”
Still the Grand Marshal did not arrive, and the Emperor wished to set to work. “You cannot write any longer then?” he said to me. “Your eyesight is quite gone.” Ever since we had been here I had given up work entirely; my eyesight failed me, which made me extremely melancholy. “Yes, sire,” I replied, “it is entirely gone; and I am grieved that I lost it in the Campaign of Italy, without enjoying the happiness and glory of having served in it.”—He endeavoured to console me, by telling me that I should recover my eyesight, beyond a doubt, by repose, adding, “Oh why did they not leave us Planat! that good young man would now be of great service to me.” And he desired General Gourgaud to come, that he might dictate to him.
ADMIRAL TAYLOR, &C.
11th.—As I was walking after breakfast, about half-past twelve, before the gate, I saw a numerous cavalcade approaching, preceded by the Colonel of the 53rd: it was Admiral Taylor, who had arrived the evening before with his squadron from the Cape, and was to leave us the next day but one for Europe. Among his captains was his son, who had lost his arm at the battle of Trafalgar, where his father commanded the Tonnant.
Admiral Taylor said he was come to pay his respects to the Emperor; but he had just received for answer that he was unwell; at which the Admiral was much disappointed. I observed to him that the climate of Longwood was very unfavourable to Napoleon. I chose an unlucky time for making this observation, as the sky was beautiful, and the place displayed at this moment all the illusion which it is capable of producing: the Admiral did not fail to remark that the situation was charming. I replied, in a tone of genuine sorrow: “Yes, Admiral, to-day, and for you, who only remain a quarter of an hour in it.” At this he seemed quite disconcerted, began to make excuses, and begged me to pardon him for having made use of what he called an impertinent expression. I must render justice to the peculiar urbanity of manner which he evinced on this occasion.
THE EMPEROR AIMED AT BY A SOLDIER.—OUR EVENING
AMUSEMENTS.—NOVELS.—POLITICAL REMARKS.
12th—14th. The Emperor had now for several days left off his excursions on horseback. The result of his attempt to resume them, on the 12th, was neither calculated to revive his partiality for this amusement, nor to render it once more habitual to him. We had cleared our valley as usual, and were re-ascending at the back part opposite Longwood, when a soldier from one of the heights, where there had hitherto been no post, called out several times, and made various signs to us. As we were in the very centre of our circuit, we paid no attention to him. He then came running down towards us, out of breath, charging his piece as he ran. General Gourgaud remained behind, to see what he wanted, while we continued our route. I could see the General, after dodging the fellow many times, collar and secure him: he made him follow him as far as the neighbouring post by the Grand Marshal’s, which the General endeavoured to make him enter, but he escaped from him. He found that he was a drunken corporal, who had not rightly understood his watchword. He had frequently levelled his piece at us. This circumstance, which might have been very easily repeated, made us tremble for the Emperor’s life: the latter looked upon it only as an affront, and a fresh obstacle to the continuance of his exercises on horseback.
Napoleon had ceased giving invitations to dinner: the hours, the distance, the dressing, were inconvenient to the guests: to us these parties produced only trouble and constraint, without any pleasure.
The Emperor had by degrees resumed his regular work. He now dictated daily to the Grand Marshal upon the expedition to Egypt; some time before dinner he ordered me and my son to be called to him, in order to read the different chapters of the Campaigns of Italy over again, and separate them into paragraphs. Reversis had gone out of fashion; the Emperor had given it up. The time after dinner was henceforth devoted to the reading of some work: the Emperor himself read aloud; when he was tired, he handed the book over to some other person; but then he never could bear their reading more than a quarter of an hour. We were now reading novels, and we began many which we never finished, Manon l’ Escaut we soon rejected as fit only for the ante-chamber; then followed the Memoirs of Grammont, which are so full of wit, but so far from honourable to the morals of the great of that period; the Chevalier de Faublas, which is only to be endured at the age of twenty years, &c. Whenever these readings could be protracted to eleven or twelve o’clock, the Emperor seemed truly rejoiced. He called this making conquests over time; and he found such victories not the most easy to gain.
Politics had also their turn. Every three or four weeks, or thereabouts, we received a large packet of journals from Europe; this, like the cut of a whip, set us going again for some days, during which we discussed, analyzed, and re-discussed the news: and afterwards fell again insensibly into our usual melancholy. The last journals had reached us by the Greyhound sloop, which had arrived some days before. They occupied one of the evenings, and gave rise to one of those moments, wherein that ardour and inspiration burst forth from the Emperor, which I have sometimes witnessed in the Council of State, and which escape him from time to time even here.
He took large strides as he walked amongst us, becoming gradually more animated, and only interrupting his discourse by a few moments of meditation.
“Poor France,” said he, “what will be thy lot! Above all, what is become of thy glory!... I suppress the rest, which is of very great length: I must suppress it.”
The papers seeming to say that England desired the dismemberment of France, but that Russia had opposed it, the Emperor said that he expected this; that it was natural that Russia should be dissatisfied at seeing France divided; because she would then have to fear that the different states of Germany would unite against her; whilst,