Читать книгу The Life, Exile and Conversations with Napoleon - Emmanuel-Auguste-Dieudonné Las Cases - Страница 65

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6th.—The Emperor, after dictating to me this morning, was successively engaged with the other gentlemen, with whom he prolonged his walk for some time. When they withdrew, I followed him into the lower path: he was dull and silent, and his countenance appeared somewhat harsh and ruffled. “Well,” said he, as we were returning to dinner, “we shall have sentinels under our windows at Longwood. They wished to force me to have a foreign officer at my table and in my drawing-room. I cannot mount my horse without being accompanied by an officer; in short, we cannot stir a step under pain of being insulted!...” I replied that this was another drop of sorrow added to the bitter cup which we were doomed to drink to his past glory and power; but that his philosophy was sufficient to defy the malice of his enemies, and to make them blush for their brutality in the face of the whole world. I ventured to remark that the Spanish Princes at Valencey, and the Pope at Fontainebleau, had never experienced such treatment. “Certainly not,” resumed he; “the Princes hunted and gave balls at Valencey, without being physically aware of their chains; they experienced respect and courtesy at all hands. Old King Charles IV. removed from Compiegne to Marseilles, and from Marseilles to Rome, whenever he wished. And yet how different are those places from this! The Pope at Fontainebleau, whatever may have been the reports circulated in the world, was treated in the same manner. And yet how many persons, in spite of all the indulgences he enjoyed, refused to be appointed to guard him!—a circumstance which gave me no offence, for I thought it perfectly natural. Such employments are subject to the influence of delicacy of feeling; and our European manners require that power should be limited by honour.” He observed that, for his own part, as a private man and an officer, he should without hesitation have refused to guard the Pope, whose removal to France, he added, had never been ordered by him.—I manifested great surprise.—“You are astonished,” said he: “you did not know this? But it is nevertheless true, as well as many other similar facts, which you will learn in course of time. But, with reference to the subject on which we have just been speaking, it is necessary to distinguish the conduct of the sovereign, who acts collectively, from that of the private man, whose sentiments are without constraint. Policy permits, nay, frequently demands, from the one, what would be unpardonable in the other.” The hour of dinner, by introducing various subjects of conversation, diverted his melancholy, and cheerfulness finally prevailed.

Meanwhile the Emperor seriously determined to quit his present wretched abode, whatever inconvenience his new residence might present. On going to pass the remainder of the evening with our host, the Emperor directed me to present him a box bearing his cypher, and to tell him he was sorry for all the trouble he had occasioned to him.

ON THE NOUVELLE HÉLOÏSE, AND ON LOVE.

7th.—The Emperor summoned me to attend him at an early hour. He began to read the Nouvelle Héloïse, frequently remarking on the ingenuity and force of the arguments, the elegance of the style and expressions: he read for upwards of two hours. This reading made a powerful impression on me; it produced a deep melancholy—a mingled feeling of tenderness and sorrow. I had always been fond of the work; and it now awakened happy recollections, and excited deep regret: the Emperor frequently smiled at me. During breakfast the Nouvelle Héloïse was the topic of conversation.

“Jean-Jacques has overcharged his subject,” said the Emperor; “he has painted madness: love should be a source of pleasure, not of misery.” I alleged that Jean-Jacques had described nothing which a man might not feel, and that even the misery to which the Emperor alluded was, in reality, happiness.—“I see,” said he, “you have a little touch of the romantic: has Love’s misery rendered you happy?”—“I do not complain of my fate, Sire,” replied I; “were I to begin life again, I should wish to retrace the course I have already pursued.”

The Emperor resumed his reading after breakfast; but he paused occasionally: the enchantment seemed to seize him in his turn. He at length laid down the book, and we went out to the garden. “Really,” said he, as we walked along, “this work is not without fire; it moves, it rouses the feelings.” We discussed the subject deeply; we were very prolix in our remarks, and we at length agreed that perfect love is like ideal happiness; that both are equally airy, fugitive, mysterious, and inexplicable; and that, finally, love is the business of the idle man, the recreation of the warrior, and the ruin of the sovereign.

We were joined by the Grand Marshal and M. Gourgaud, who had just come from Longwood. The admiral had for some days past been urgent for our removal thither; and the Emperor was not less anxious to go, the accommodation at Briars being so very bad. However, before he removed, it was necessary that the smell of the paint should be entirely gone, for, owing to his peculiar organization, he could not possibly endure it. In the Imperial palaces, care had been taken never to expose him to it. In his different journeys, the slightest smell of paint frequently rendered it necessary to change the apartments that had been prepared for him; and on board of the Northumberland the paint of the ship had made him very ill. He had been informed on the preceding evening that all was ready at Longwood, and that the disagreeable effect of the paint was entirely gone. He accordingly determined to remove on the Saturday following, as he would thus be rid of the annoyance of the workmen on Sunday; but the Grand Marshal and M. Gourgaud now came to say that they had visited the place, and that it was not habitable. The Emperor expressed much vexation at the first account he had received, and the resolution which it had led him to adopt. The two gentlemen withdrew, and we entered the lower walk. The Emperor was much out of humour. M. de Montholon now arrived, very mal-a-propos, from Longwood, declaring that all was ready, and that the Emperor might remove as soon as he wished. These two accounts, so contradictory and so close upon each other, strongly excited his displeasure. Fortunately, dinner was announced, which diverted his attention from the subject. The cloth was laid in the Emperor’s chamber; for he had so severe a cold that he could not endure the tent. After dinner he resumed his reading; and ended the day, as he had begun it, with the Nouvelle Héloïse.