Chapter II: Part 2
The Emperor had not been long amongst his most inveterate enemies, those who had been continually fed with rumours no less absurd than irritating, before he acquired all the influence over them which belongs to glory. The captain, officers, and crew, soon adopted the etiquette of his suite, shewing him exactly the same attention and respect; the Captain addressed him either as _Sire_ or _your Majesty_; when he appeared on deck, every one took off his hat, and remained uncovered while he was present—this was not the case at first. There was no entering his cabin, except by passing the attendants: no persons but those who were invited appeared at his table. Napoleon was, in fact, an Emperor, on board the Bellerophon. He often appeared on deck, conversing either with some of his suite or the officers of the ship.
Of all those who had accompanied the Emperor, I was perhaps the person of whom he knew the least; it has already been seen that, notwithstanding my employments near his person, I had enjoyed but little immediate intercourse with Napoleon; since our leaving Paris he had scarcely spoken to me, but I was now addressed very frequently.
The occasion and circumstances were highly favourable to me: I was sufficiently acquainted with the English language to be able to give various explanations as to what was passing around us. I had been in the navy, and could afford the Emperor any information he required relative to the manœuvres of the ship, and state of the weather. I had been ten years in England, and had formed definite notions of the laws, manners, and customs of the people; which enabled me to reply to the Emperor’s questions with facility. My Historical Atlas, too, had stored my mind with a number of facts, dates, and coincidences, upon which he always found me prepared to answer.
A part of my time was occupied in drawing up the following summary of our situation at Rochefort, and the ideas which had influenced the determination of the Emperor. Hence I had precise and authentic data to judge from.
SUMMARY DICTATED BY NAPOLEON HIMSELF.
The English squadron was not strong: there were two sloops of war off Bordeaux, they blockaded a French corvette, and gave chace to American vessels which sailed daily in great numbers. At the Isle of Aix we had two frigates well armed; the Vulcan corvette, one of the largest vessels of its class, and a large brig, lay in the roads: the whole of this force was blockaded by an English seventy-four of the smallest class, and an indifferent sloop or two. There is not the least doubt that by risking the sacrifice of one or two of our ships, we should have passed, but the senior captain was deficient in resolution, and refused to sail; the second in command was quite determined, and would have made the attempt: the former had probably received secret instructions from Fouché, who already openly betrayed the Emperor, and wanted to give him up. However that may be, there was nothing to be done by sea. The Emperor then landed at the Isle of Aix.
“Had the mission been confided to Admiral Verhuel,” said Napoleon, “as was promised on our departure from Paris, it is probable that he would have sailed.” The officers and crews of both frigates were full of attachment and enthusiasm. The garrison of Aix was composed of fifteen hundred seamen, forming a very fine regiment; the officers were so indignant at the frigate not sailing, that they proposed to fit out two chasse-marées of fifteen tons’ each: the midshipmen wished to navigate them; but, when on the point of putting this plan into execution, it was said there would be great difficulty in gaining the American coast without touching at some point of Spain or Portugal.
Under these circumstances the Emperor composed a species of council, from amongst the persons of his suite: here it was represented that we could no longer calculate on the frigates or other armed vessels; that the chasse-marées held out no probable chance of success, and could only lead to capture by the English cruisers in the open sea, or to falling into the hands of the allies: only two alternatives remained; to proceed towards the interior, once more to try the fate of arms; or to seek an asylum in England. To follow up the first, there were fifteen hundred seamen, full of zeal and willing to act: the commandant of the Island was an old officer of the army of Egypt, entirely devoted to Napoleon: the Emperor would have proceeded at the head of these to Rochefort, where the corps would have been increased by the garrison, which was also extremely well disposed: the garrison of La Rochelle, composed of four battalions of federated troops, had offered their services: with these we might then have joined General Clausel, so firmly fixed at the head of the army at Bordeaux, or General Lamarque, who had performed prodigies, with that of La Vendée; both these officers expected and wished to see Napoleon: it would have been very easy to maintain a civil war in the interior. But Paris was taken, and the Chambers had been dissolved; there were, besides, from five to six hundred thousand of the enemy’s troops in France: a civil war could therefore have no other result than leading to the destruction of all these generous men who were attached to Napoleon. This loss would have been severe and irreparable: it would have destroyed the future resources of the nation, without producing any other advantage than placing the Emperor in a position to treat and obtain stipulations favourable to his interests. But Napoleon had renounced sovereignty; he only wanted a tranquil asylum; he abhorred the thought of seeing all his friends perish to attain so trifling a result; he was equally averse to become the pretext for the provinces being ravaged; and above all, he did not wish to deprive the national party of its truest supports, which would sooner or later reestablish the honour and independence of France. Napoleon’s only wish was to live as a private individual in future: America was the most proper place, and that of his choice. But even England, with its positive laws, might also answer; and it appeared, from the nature of my first interview with Captain Maitland, that the latter was empowered to convey the Emperor and suite to England to be equitably treated. From this moment we were under the protection of British laws; and the people of England were too fond of glory to lose an opportunity which thus presented itself, and that ought to have formed the proudest page of their history. It was therefore resolved to surrender to the English cruisers, as soon as Captain Maitland should positively declare his orders to receive us. On renewing the negotiation, he clearly stated that he had the authority of his Government to receive the Emperor, if he would come on board the Bellerophon, and to convey him, as well as his suite, to England. Napoleon went on board, not that he was constrained to it by events, since he could have remained in France; but because he wished to live as a private individual, would no longer meddle with public affairs, and had determined not to embroil those of France. He would, most assuredly, not have adopted this plan had he suspected the unworthy treatment which was preparing for him, as every body will readily feel convinced. His letter to the Prince Regent fully explains his confidence and persuasion on the subject. Captain Maitland, to whom it was officially communicated before the Emperor embarked on board his ship, having made no remarks on the above document, had, by this circumstance alone, recognized and sanctioned the sentiments it contained.
23rd.—Saw Ushant at four in the morning, having passed it in the night. From the moment of approaching the Channel, ships of the line and frigates were seen sailing in various directions. The coast of England was discovered towards evening.
24th.—We anchored at Torbay about eight in the morning; the Emperor had risen at six, and went on the poop, whence he surveyed the coast and anchorage. I remained by his side to give the explanations which he required.
Captain Maitland immediately despatched a messenger to Lord Keith, the Commander-in-chief at Plymouth. General Gourgaud rejoined us: he had been obliged to give up the letter for the Prince Regent; he had not only been refused permission to land, but prohibited from all communication. This was a bad omen, and the first indication of those numberless tribulations which followed.
No sooner had it transpired that the Emperor was on board the Bellerophon, than the bay was covered with vessels and boats full of people. The owner of a beautiful country-seat in sight of the ship sent his Majesty a present of various kinds of fruits.
25th.—The concourse of boats and crowds of spectators continued without intermission. The Emperor saw them from the cabin windows and occasionally shewed himself on deck. On returning from the shore, Captain Maitland handed me a letter from Lady C., enclosing another from my wife. My surprise was extreme, and not less than my satisfaction; but the former ceased when I reflected that the length of the passage had given the French papers time to transmit an account of what had occurred to a considerable distance, so that whatever related to the Emperor and his suite was already known in England, where we had even been expected for five or six days before. My wife hastened to address Lady C. on the subject, and the latter wrote to Captain Maitland, to whom she enclosed my letters, without knowing him.
My wife’s letter bespoke feelings of tender affliction; but that of Lady C., who, from being in London, had learned our future destiny, was full of reproaches—“I was not my own master, thus to dispose of myself; it was a crime to abandon my wife and children,” &c. Melancholy result of our modern systems of education, which tend so little to elevate our minds that we cannot conceive either the merit or charm of heroic resolutions and sacrifices! We think that all has been said, and every plea justified, when the danger of private interests and domestic enjoyments is put forward,—little imagining that the first duty towards a wife is to place her in a situation of honour, and that the richest inheritance we can leave our children is the example of some virtues, and a name to which a little true glory is attached.
26th.—Orders had arrived in the night for the ship to repair immediately to Plymouth: having sailed at an early hour, we reached our new destination at four o’clock in the afternoon, ten days after our departure from Rochefort, twenty-seven after quitting Paris, and thirty-five from the Emperor’s abdication. Our horizon became greatly overcast from this day. Armed boats were placed round the ship; those whom curiosity had attracted were driven away, even by firing musquetry at them. Lord Keith, who was in the bay, did not come on board. Two frigates made the signal for sailing immediately; we were told that a courier extraordinary had brought dispatches for a distant quarter. In the morning, some of our party were distributed amongst other vessels. Every visage seemed now to look at us with a sullen interest; the most sinister reports had reached the ship; several destinations were mentioned, each more frightful than the other.
Imprisonment in the Tower of London was the least terrific, and some spoke of St. Helena. Meanwhile the two frigates, which had greatly excited my attention, got under weigh, though the wind was contrary for leaving the roadstead, stood towards us, and anchored on each side, nearly touching the Bellerophon. Upon this, some person whispered to me that these ships were to receive us in the course of the night, and to sail for St. Helena.
Never can I portray the effect of these terrible words! A cold sweat overspread my whole frame: it was an unexpected sentence of death! Unpitying executioners had seized me: I was torn from all that attached me to life. I extended my arms sorrowfully towards those who were dear to me, but in vain; my fate was inevitable! This thought, together with a crowd of others which arose in equal disorder, excited a real tempest of the mind. It was like the struggle of a soul that sought to disengage itself from its earthly habitation! It turned my hair grey!——Fortunately the crisis was short, and, as it happened, the mind came forth triumphant; so much so, indeed, that from this moment I seemed above the world. I felt that I could thenceforth defy injustice, ill treatment, and sufferings. Above all, I vowed that neither complaints nor solicitations should escape me. But let not those of my companions, to whom I appeared tranquil in those fatal circumstances, accuse me of being deficient in feeling! Their agony was prolonged in detail—mine operated all at once.
One of those coincidences, not the least extraordinary of my life, recurred to my thoughts soon after. Twenty years before, and during my emigration to England, without possessing any worldly goods, I had refused to seek a certain fortune in India, because it was too remote, and I thought myself too old. Now, when twenty years older, I was about to quit my family, friends, fortune, and enjoyments, to become a voluntary exile two thousand miles off, in the midst of the ocean, _for nothing_. But no, I am mistaken! the sentiment that now impelled me was infinitely superior to the riches I then disdained: I accompanied him who had governed the world, and will occupy the attention of posterity.
The Emperor continued to appear on deck as usual. I sometimes saw him in his cabin, but without communicating what I had heard: I wished to console him, and not to be his tormentor. The reports had, however, reached him: but he had come so freely and confidently on board the Bellerophon; he had been so strongly invited by the English themselves; he so completely regarded his letter to the Prince Regent, transmitted before-hand to Captain Maitland, as so many tacit conditions; he had, in fact, acted with such magnanimity throughout the proceeding, that he repelled with indignation all the fears which were attempted to be excited in him, not even permitting those around him to entertain doubts.
27th—28th. It would be difficult to describe our torments and anxiety at this moment: most of us were dumb and inanimate. The least circumstance which transpired from the shore—an opinion, however unimportant, expressed on board—an unmeaning paragraph in a daily paper, became the subjects of our most serious arguments, and the cause of perpetual oscillations between our hopes and fears. The most trifling reports were sought with avidity; whoever appeared was urged to give a favourable version of deceitful anticipations: so little do the ardour and activity of our national character contribute to endow us with that stoical resignation, that imperturbable composure, which can only be acquired from settled principles and positive doctrines imbibed from early infancy.
The public papers, particularly those of the ministerial side, were let loose against us; it was the outcry of the Ministers preparing the blow they were about to strike. It would not be easy to form an idea of the horrors, falsehoods, and imprecations accumulated on our heads; and there is always a portion communicated to the multitude, however well disposed it may be, so that the demeanour of those around us became less easy, while their politeness became embarrassed and their countenances more reserved.
Lord Keith, after announcing himself for some time before, had only just made his appearance. It was evident that our company was shunned, our conversation avoided. The papers contained an account of the measures which were about to be taken; but, as nothing official had appeared, and there was some contradiction in the details, we were induced to flatter ourselves as to the final result: thus remaining in that state of suspense and uncertainty which is worse than a knowledge of the most painful truths. Nevertheless, our arrival in England had produced a singular sensation: the presence of the Emperor excited a curiosity bordering on delirium. It was the papers themselves that informed us of the circumstance, while they condemned it. All England seemed to hurry towards Plymouth. A person who had left London, on hearing of my arrival, was obliged to stop on the road for want of post-horses and accommodation. The Sound was covered with an immense number of boats; for some of which, as we heard, above fifty pounds had been paid.
The Emperor, to whom I read all the newspapers, did not betray any decrease of composure either by his conversation or general habits. It was known that he always appeared on deck towards five o’clock. A short time before this hour, all the boats collected alongside of each other; there were thousands; and so closely connected that the water could no longer be seen between them; they looked more like a multitude assembled in a public square than any thing else. When the Emperor came out, the noise and gestures of so many people presented a most striking spectacle: it was, at the same time, very easy to perceive that nothing hostile was meant, and that if curiosity had brought them, they felt interested on going away; we could even see that the latter sentiment continued to increase;—at first people merely looked towards the ship, they ended by saluting; some remained uncovered, and occasionally went so far as to cheer. Even our symbols began to appear amongst them. Several persons of both sexes came decorated with red carnations, but this was only turned to our detriment in the eyes of the Ministry and its partisans, so that it rendered our agony more poignant.
It was under these circumstances that the Emperor, who, notwithstanding his calm demeanor, could not help being struck by what he heard, dictated a paper to me, worthy of serving as a model to jurists, discussing and defending his real political situation; we found means of conveying it on shore, but I have kept no copy.
MINISTERIAL DECISION.
29th—30th. A report had circulated, during the two previous days, that an under-secretary of state coming from London to notify the resolutions of the Ministers with respect to the Emperor, officially. Accordingly he appeared; it was Sir Charles Bunbury: he came on board, accompanied by Lord Keith, and delivered a dispatch ordering the removal of the Emperor to St. Helena, and limiting the number of persons who were to accompany Napoleon to three, excluding, however, the Duke de Rovigo and General Lallemand, comprised in the list of proscribed.
I was not called before the Emperor. The bearers of his sentence spoke and understood French; they were admitted alone. I have since heard that he objected and protested, with no less energy than logic, against the violence exercised on his person. “He was the guest of England,” said he, “and not her prisoner; he came of his own accord to place himself under the protection of her laws; the most sacred rights of hospitality were violated in his person; he would never submit voluntarily to the outrage with which they threatened him; violence alone should oblige him to do so, &c.”
The Emperor gave me the ministerial document to translate for him, of which the following is a copy:
COMMUNICATION MADE BY LORD KEITH, IN THE NAME
OF THE ENGLISH MINISTERS.
“As it may, perhaps, be convenient for General Buonaparte to learn, without farther delay, the intentions of the British Government with regard to him, your Lordship will communicate the following information:
“It would be inconsistent with our duty towards our country and the allies of his Majesty, if General Buonaparte possessed the means of again disturbing the repose of Europe. It is on this account that it becomes absolutely necessary he should be restrained in his personal liberty, so far as this is required by the foregoing important object.
“The island of St. Helena has been chosen as his future residence; its climate is healthy, and its local position will allow of his being treated with more indulgence than could be admitted in any other spot, owing to the indispensable precautions which it would be necessary to employ for the security of his person.
“General Buonaparte is allowed to select amongst those persons who accompanied him to England (with the exception of Generals Savary and Lallemand) three officers, who, together with his surgeon, will have permission to accompany him to St. Helena; these individuals will not be allowed to quit the island without the sanction of the British Government.
“Rear-Admiral Sir George Cockburn, who is named Commander-in-chief at the Cape of Good Hope and seas adjacent, will convey General Buonaparte and his suite to St. Helena; and he will receive detailed instructions relative to the execution of this service.
“Sir G. Cockburn will, most probably, be ready to sail in a few days; for which reason it is desirable that General Buonaparte should make choice of the persons who are to accompany him without delay.”
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Although we expected our transportation to St. Helena, we were deeply affected by its announcement: it threw us all into a state of consternation. The Emperor did not, however, fail to appear on deck as usual, with the same countenance; and, as before, calmly surveyed the crowds which seemed so eager to see him.
31st.—Our situation had now become truly frightful; our sufferings beyond every power of description; our existence was about to cease with regard to Europe, our country, families, and friends, as well as our enjoyments and habits. It is true, we were not forced to follow the Emperor; but our choice was that of martyrs; the question was a renunciation of faith, or death. Another circumstance was added, which greatly increased our torments; this was the exclusion of Generals Savary and Lallemand, whom it struck with the utmost terror; they saw nothing but a scaffold before them, and felt persuaded that the Ministers of England, making no distinction between the political acts of a revolution, and crimes committed in a moment of tranquillity, would give them up to their enemies to be sacrificed. This would have been such an outrage on all law, such an opprobrium for England herself, that one might have been almost tempted to dare her to it: but it was only for those who were included in the same proscription to talk thus. At all events, we did not hesitate to desire that each of us might be amongst those whom the Emperor would choose; entertaining but one fear, that of finding ourselves excluded.
August 1st.—We still continued in the same state. I received a letter from London, in which it was strongly urged that I should be extremely wrong, nay that it would even be a crime to expatriate myself. The person who thus wrote also addressed Captain Maitland, begging he would assist by his efforts and counsel to dissuade me from such a resolution. But I stopped him short, by observing that, at my age, people generally acted on reflection.
I read the papers every day to the Emperor. Whether influenced by generosity, or that opinions began to be divided, there were two amongst the number that pleaded our cause with great warmth, compensating in some measure for the gross falsehoods and scurrilous abuse with which the others were filled. We gave ourselves up to the hope that the hatred inspired by an enemy would be succeeded by the interest which splendid actions ought naturally to excite; that England abounded in noble hearts and elevated minds, which would indubitably become our ardent advocates.
The number of boats increased daily. Napoleon continued to appear at his usual hour, and the reception became more and more flattering.
Numbers of every rank and condition had followed the Emperor; he was still, with regard to most of us, as if at the Tuileries; the Grand Marshal and Duke de Rovigo alone saw him habitually. Some had not approached or spoken to him more frequently than if we had been at Paris. I was called during the day, whenever there were any papers or letters to translate, until the Emperor insensibly contracted the habit of sending for me every evening towards eight o’clock, to converse with him a short time.
In the conversation of this evening, and after touching on various other subjects, he asked me whether I would accompany him to St. Helena. I replied with the greatest frankness, rendered more easy by my real sentiments, observing to his Majesty that, in quitting Paris, I had disregarded every chance; and that therefore St. Helena had nothing which could make it an exception. There were, however, a great many of us round his person, while only three were permitted to go out. As some people considered it a crime in me to leave my family, it was necessary with regard to the latter, and my own conscience, to know that I could be useful and agreeable to him—that, in fact, I required to be chosen; but that this last observation did not spring from any concealed motive, for my life was henceforth at his disposal without any restriction.
While thus engaged, Madame Bertrand, without having been called, and even without announcing her name, rushed into the cabin, and in a frantic manner, entreated the Emperor not to go to St. Helena, nor take her husband with him. But observing the astonishment, coolness, and calm answer of Napoleon, she ran out as precipitately as she had entered. The Emperor, still surprised, turned to me and said, “Can you comprehend all this? Is she not mad?” A moment afterwards loud shrieks were heard, and every body seemed to be running towards the stern of the ship. Being desired to ring the bell, and to enquire the cause, I found that Madame Bertrand, on leaving the cabin, had attempted to throw herself into the sea, and was prevented with the greatest difficulty. From this scene it is easy to judge of our feelings!
REMARKABLE WORDS OF THE EMPEROR.
2d-3d. In the morning the Duke de Rovigo told me I was certainly to depart for St. Helena: while in conversation with the Emperor, a short time before, his Majesty had said to him that, if there were only two to accompany him, I should still be one of the number, as he thought I could afford him some consolation. I am indebted to the candour and kindness of the Duke for the satisfaction of being made acquainted with this flattering assurance, and am truly grateful, as, but for him, it would never have been known to me. The Emperor had not said a word in reply to my answer; this was his custom, as I shall have other opportunities of shewing.
I had no particular acquaintance with any of those who had followed the Emperor, excepting General and and Madame Bertrand, who had shewn me great attention during my mission to Illyria, where he was Governor-General. I had until then never spoken to the Duke de Rovigo, certain prepossessions having induced me to keep at a distance; we had, however, scarcely exchanged a few words, when my scruples were completely removed. Savary was sincerely attached to the Emperor; I knew he possessed warmth of heart, sincerity, and uprightness of character, qualities which rendered him susceptible of real friendship; we should, therefore, I dare say, have become very intimate.
I was again sent for by the Emperor; who, after alluding to different subjects, began to speak of St. Helena, asking me what sort of a place it could be; whether it was possible to exist there? and similar questions. “But,” said he, “after all, is it quite certain that I shall go there? Is a man dependent on others, when he wishes that his dependence should cease?”—We continued to walk to and fro in the cabin; he seemed calm, though affected, and somewhat absent.
“My friend,” continued the Emperor, “I have sometimes an idea of quitting you, and this would not be very difficult; it is only necessary to create a little mental excitement, and I shall soon have escaped.—All will be over, and you can then quietly rejoin your families. This is the more easy, since my internal principles do not oppose any bar to it:—I am one of those who conceive that the pains of the other world were only imagined as a counterpoise to those inadequate allurements which are offered to us there. God can never have willed such a contradiction to his infinite goodness, especially for an act of this kind; and what is it after all, but wishing to return to him a little sooner?”
I remonstrated warmly against such notions. Poets and philosophers had said that it was a spectacle worthy of the Divinity, to see men struggling with fortune: reverses and constancy had their glory. Such a great and noble character as his could not descend to the level of vulgar minds; he who had governed us with so much glory, who had excited the admiration, and influenced the destinies, of the world, could not end like a desperate gamester or a disappointed lover. What would then become of all those who looked up to and placed their hopes in him? Would he thus abandon the field to his enemies? The anxiety shewn by the latter to drive him to it was surely sufficient to make him resist: who could tell the secrets of time, or dare assert what the future would produce? What might not happen from the mere change of a ministry, the death of a Prince, that of a confidant, the slightest passion, or the most trifling dispute?
“Some of these suggestions have their weight,” said the Emperor, “but what can we do in that desolate place?”—“Sire,” I replied, “we will live on the past: there is enough in it to satisfy us. Do we not enjoy the life of Cæsar and that of Alexander? We shall possess still more, you will re-peruse yourself, Sire!” “Be it so!” rejoined Napoleon; “we will write our Memoirs. Yes, we must be employed; for occupation is the scythe of Time. After all, a man ought to fulfil his destinies; this is my grand doctrine:[8] let mine also be accomplished.” Re-assuming from this instant an air of ease and even gaiety, he passed on to subjects totally unconnected with our situation.
Footnote 8:
The following is a document which the above circumstance contributes
to render still more precious: it is an order of the day, issued by
the First Consul to his guard, against suicide.
_Order of the 22d Floreal, Year X._
“The Grenadier Gobain has committed suicide from love: he was in other
respects an excellent soldier. This is the second incident of the same
nature that has occurred in the corps within a month.
“The first Consul directs it to be inserted in the order-book of the
Guard:—
“That a soldier ought to know how to vanquish the pangs and melancholy
of the passions; that there is as much true courage in bearing up
against mental sufferings with constancy, as in remaining firm on the
wall of a battery.
“To give ourselves up to grief without resistance, or to kill
ourselves to escape affliction, is to abandon the field of battle
before the victory is gained.”
DEPARTURE FROM PLYMOUTH.—CONTINUANCE IN THE CHANNEL.—PROTEST.
4th.—Orders had arrived during the night for us to sail at an early hour; we set sail, which circumstance puzzled us much. The newspapers, official communications, and private conversations, told us we were to be conveyed to St. Helena by the Northumberland: we knew that this ship was still fitting out at Portsmouth or Chatham, so that we might still calculate on eight or ten days’ delay. The Bellerophon was too old for the voyage, she had not provisions enough; moreover the wind was contrary; when therefore we saw the ship returning up Channel, our uncertainty and conjectures were renewed, but whatever these might be, every thing was welcome when compared to the idea of transportation to St. Helena.
Nevertheless, it occurred to us that, in such a decisive moment, the Emperor was bound to shew a formal opposition to this violence; as to Napoleon himself, he attached but little importance to it, nor would he trouble himself about the matter. However, said we, it will be a weapon in the hands of our friends, and leave causes of remembrance as well as grounds of defence with the public. I ventured, therefore, to read a paper I had prepared to his Majesty, with the general sense of which he seemed pleased; after suppressing a few phrases, and correcting others, it was signed and sent to Lord Keith. The following is a literal copy of this document.
PROTEST.
“I hereby solemnly protest in the face of heaven and mankind, against the violence that is done me; and the violation of my most sacred rights, in forcibly disposing of my person and liberty. I voluntarily came on board the Bellerophon—I am not the prisoner, I am the guest of England. I came at the instigation of the Captain himself, who said he had orders from the Government to receive and convey me to England, together with my suite, if agreeable to me. I came forward with confidence to place myself under the protection of the laws of England. When once on board the Bellerophon, I was entitled to the hospitality of the British people. If the Government, in giving the Captain of the Bellerophon orders to receive me and my followers, only wished to lay a snare, it has forfeited its honour and disgraced its flag.
“If this act be consummated it will be in vain for the English henceforth to talk of their sincerity, their laws, and liberties. British faith will have been lost in the hospitality of the Bellerophon.
“I appeal to history: it will say that an enemy who made war for twenty years against the English people came spontaneously, in the hour of misfortune, to seek an asylum under their laws. What more striking proof could he give of his esteem and confidence? But how did England reply to such an act of magnanimity? It pretended to hold out a hospitable hand to this enemy; and, on giving himself up with confidence, he was immolated!
(Signed) “NAPOLEON.”
_Bellerophon at Sea,_ _Friday, Aug._ 4th, 1815.
The Duke de Rovigo told me that the Emperor had demanded permission to send me to the Prince Regent at London, but that it was obstinately refused.
The sea was rough, and the wind blew with violence. Most of us were affected with sea-sickness. But what cannot the pre-occupation of the mind effect over physical infirmities! This was perhaps the only time in my life that I was not incommoded by such weather. On leaving Plymouth Sound, we stood to the eastward before the wind, but were soon after close-hauled, tacking backwards and forwards, without being able to comprehend the cause of this new source of torment.
5th.—The whole of this day was passed in the same manner. While conversing with the Emperor in the evening he gave me two proofs of confidence, but I cannot now confide them to paper.[9]
Footnote 9:
There is, however, one of these proofs which I am now at liberty to
disclose. While walking in the stern-gallery with the Emperor, at the
usual hour, he drew from under his waistcoat, still conversing on a
totally different subject, a species of girdle, which he handed to me,
saying, “Take care of that for me;” without interrupting him, I placed
it under my own waistcoat. The Emperor told me, soon after, that it
contained a diamond necklace, worth two hundred thousand francs, which
Queen Hortensia forced him to accept on his leaving Malmaison. After
our arrival at St. Helena I frequently spoke of returning the
necklace, but never received any reply. Having ventured to mention the
subject again when we were at Longwood, Napoleon drily asked, “Does it
annoy you?”—“No, Sire,” was my answer;—“Keep it then,” said he. From
wearing the girdle so long, the necklace became as it were identified
with my person; and I thought so little about it that it was not till
some days after my being torn from Longwood, and by the merest
accident, it recurred to my memory; when I shuddered at the idea of
depriving the Emperor of such a resource. For how would it be possible
now to make restitution? I was in the most rigorous confinement,
surrounded by gaolers and sentinels, so that all communication was
impracticable. I vainly endeavoured to contrive a plan; time pressed;
only a few days were left, and nothing could be more distressing than
thus to quit the island. In this predicament, I resolved to run all
risks. An Englishman, to whom I had often spoken, came to the prison
on a particular errand—and it was under the eyes of the Governor
himself, or one of his most confidential agents whom he brought, that
I ventured to communicate my wishes.
“I think you are a man of principle,” said I, “and I am going to put
it to the test;—though with nothing injurious or contrary to your
honour—merely a rich deposit to be restored to Napoleon. If you accept
the charge, my son will put it into your pocket.”
He answered only by slackening his pace; my son, whom I had prepared
for the scene, followed him, and the necklace was transferred into
this man’s possession, almost in sight of the military attendants.
Before quitting the island, I had the inexpressible satisfaction of
knowing that the necklace had reached the hands of the Emperor. How
gratifying to the heart are the recollection and recital of such a
trait on the part of an enemy, and under such circumstances!
ANCHORED OFF START POINT.—PERSONS ALLOWED TO ACCOMPANY THE EMPEROR.
6th.—We anchored about noon off Start Point, where there was no shelter whatever, though we had but a very short distance to go in order to anchor in Torbay: this circumstance excited great astonishment on our part. We had, however, heard that orders were given to meet the Northumberland, the departure of which vessel from Portsmouth was urged with all possible haste. Accordingly that ship soon appeared with two frigates full of troops, which were to compose the garrison of St. Helena. These three ships anchored close to us; after which the communications amongst the whole squadron became very active. The precautions to prevent the approach of boats were still continued. Meanwhile the mystery of our precipitate sailing from Plymouth, and all the manœuvring that followed, was discovered. Lord Keith had, we were told, received notice, by telegraph, that a public officer had just left London with a writ of _habeas corpus_, to claim the person of the Emperor in the name of the laws or of some competent tribunal. We could neither ascertain the motives nor details of this circumstance: the Admiral, it was added, had scarcely time enough to escape this difficulty; we heard that he was suddenly obliged to go on board a brig, and quit Plymouth Sound. This was the motive which kept us out of Torbay.
Admirals Keith and Cockburn came on board the Bellerophon; the flag of the latter was flying on board the Northumberland: they had a conference with the Emperor, to whom they delivered an extract from the instructions relative to our transportation to and stay at St. Helena. These stated that all our effects were to be examined, for the purpose of taking away the money, bills, and diamonds, belonging to the Emperor, as well as ourselves, to be kept for us: we also heard that our arms would be taken from us at the same time, and that we were then to be transferred to the Northumberland. The documents were as follow:
ORDER FROM LORD KEITH TO CAPTAIN MAITLAND
OF THE BELLEROPHON.
“All arms of every description are to be taken from the French, of whatever rank, who are on board his Majesty’s ship under your command. These arms will be carefully packed, and are to remain in your charge so long as the persons to whom they belong continue on board the Bellerophon. They will then be under the charge of the captain of the ship to which the said individuals may be transferred.”
_Start Bay, August 6th, 1815._
INSTRUCTIONS OF MINISTERS TO ADMIRAL COCKBURN.
“When General Buonaparte leaves the Bellerophon to go on board the Northumberland, it will be the properest moment for Admiral Cockburn to have the effects examined which General Buonaparte may have brought with him. The Admiral will allow the baggage, wines, (_the wines!_ an observation truly worthy of the English Ministers,) and provisions which the General may have brought with him, to be taken on board the Northumberland. Among the baggage his table-service shall be understood as included, unless it be so considerable as to seem rather an article to be converted into ready money than for real use. His money, his diamonds, and his saleable effects (consequently bills of exchange also), of whatever kind they may be, must be delivered up. The Admiral will declare to the General that the British Government by no means intends to confiscate his property, but merely to take upon itself the administration of his effects, to hinder him from using them as a means to promote his escape.
“The examination shall be made in the presence of a person named by General Buonaparte, the inventory of the effects to be retained shall be signed by this person as well as by the Rear-admiral, or by the person whom we shall appoint to draw up the inventory. The interest or the principal (according as his property is more or less considerable) shall be applied to his support, and in this respect the principal arrangement is to be left to him. For this purpose he can from time to time signify his wishes to the Admiral, till the arrival of the new Governor of St. Helena, and afterwards to the latter; and, if no objection is made to his proposal, the Admiral or the Governor can give the necessary orders, and the disbursement will be paid by bills on his Majesty’s Treasury. In case of death, (_what foresight!_) he can dispose of his property by a last Will, and may be assured that the contents of his testament shall be faithfully executed. As an attempt might be made to make a part of his property pass for the property of the persons of his suite, it must be signified that the property of his attendants is subject to the same regulations.
“The Admiral is not to take any person on board for St. Helena, without the consent of such person, to whom he is previously to explain the necessity of being subjected to all the regulations which it may be thought proper to establish for securing the person of the General. It must be made known to the General that, if he make any attempt to escape, he will expose himself to close imprisonment; and that any of his suite who may be discovered in endeavouring to facilitate his escape will incur the same punishment. (Afterwards the Act of Parliament made the latter offence death.)
“All letters which shall be addressed to him, or to any of his suite, are to be delivered in the first place to the Admiral or the Governor, who is to read them previously to transmitting them: the same regulation is to be observed with respect to letters written by the General, or those of his suite.
“The General is to be informed that the Governor and the Admiral have received positive orders to forward to his Majesty’s Government any request or representation he may think proper to make: nothing is left to their discretion on this point; but the paper on which such representations shall be written is to remain open, in order that they may subjoin such observations as they may think expedient.”
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It would not be easy to conceive the intensity and nature of our feelings at this decisive moment, in which outrage, violence, and injustice, were accumulated on our heads.
Constrained to reduce his suite to three persons, the Emperor selected the Grand Marshal, M. de Montholon and myself. Gourgaud, in despair at the idea of being left behind, entered into a negotiation on the subject, and succeeded. As the instructions only allowed Napoleon to take three officers, it was agreed that I should be considered purely in a civil capacity, and to admit a fourth by the aid of this interpretation.
CONVERSATION WITH LORD KEITH.—EXAMINATION OF THE EMPEROR’S EFFECTS.—HE
QUITS THE BELLEROPHON.—SEPARATION.—WE SAIL FOR ST. HELENA.
7th.—The Emperor addressed to Lord Keith a species of new protest, against the violence done to his person in forcibly removing him from the Bellerophon. I took it on board the Tonnant. Admiral Keith, a fine-looking old man, of highly polished manners, received me with great politeness, but he carefully avoided touching on the subject of the protest, observing that he would give an answer in writing.
This did not stop me. I stated the situation of Napoleon, who was very unwell, his legs being much swelled; and pointed out to his lordship how desirable it was for the Emperor not to be sent off so suddenly. He replied that I had been a sailor, and must therefore see that the anchorage was unsafe, which was certainly true.
I explained the Emperor’s repugnance to have his effects searched and tossed about, as proposed; assuring him that Napoleon would infinitely prefer seeing them thrown into the sea. The Admiral answered that as this was a positive order, he must obey it. Finally I enquired whether it was probable that those appointed to search would go so far as to deprive the Emperor of his sword. He said that it would be respected, but that Napoleon was the only person exempted, as all his followers would be disarmed. I shewed him that I was already so: my sword having been taken from me before I left the Bellerophon. A secretary who was writing near us, observed to Lord Keith, in English, that the order stated that Napoleon himself was to be disarmed; upon which the Admiral drily replied, also in English, as well as I could comprehend, “Mind your own business, Sir, and leave us to ours.”
Still continuing the conversation, I went over all that had occurred from the commencement. I had been the negotiator, I said, and ought therefore to feel most acutely; and had the greater right to be heard. Lord Keith listened to me with marked impatience; we were standing, and his frequent bows were evidently intended to make me retire. When I told him that Captain Maitland said he had been authorised to bring us to England, without exciting a suspicion in our minds that we were to be prisoners of war; that the Captain could not deny that we came on board voluntarily and in confidence; that the letter of the Emperor to the Prince of Wales, which I had previously communicated to Captain Maitland, must necessarily have created tacit conditions, since he made no remarks on it: at length the Admiral’s ill-humour and even anger broke forth, and he replied sharply, that if such were the case, Captain Maitland must have been a fool, for his instructions contained nothing of the kind; and he was quite sure of this, for it was from himself they had emanated. “But, my Lord,” said I, “permit me to observe, in defence of Captain Maitland, that your Lordship speaks with a degree of severity for which you may become responsible; for not only Captain Maitland, but Admiral Hotham and all the other officers whom we saw at the time, conducted and expressed themselves in the same way towards us; would it have been thus, if their instructions had been so clear and positive?” Saying this, I relieved the Admiral of my presence: he made no attempt to prolong a subject which, perhaps, his Lordship’s conscience rendered somewhat painful to him.
Admiral Cockburn, aided by an officer of the customs, examined the effects of the Emperor: they seized four thousand Napoleons, and left fifteen hundred to pay the servants: this was all the Emperor’s treasure. They were assisted, or rather impeded, in the operation by Marchand, the valet-de-chambre of his Majesty: this appeared to mortify the Admiral excessively; though requested to attend, not one amongst us would lend his presence to, or witness, an act which we regarded as being at once mean and insulting.
Meanwhile, the moment of quitting the Bellerophon arrived. The Grand Marshal had been some time closeted with the Emperor; during which we remained in the outer cabin: on the door being opened, the Duke de Rovigo, bursting into tears, threw himself at the feet of Napoleon, and kissed his hands. The Emperor, still calm and collected, embraced the Duke, and continued his way towards the accommodation-ladder, graciously saluting all those who happened to be on the quarter-deck. The whole of our party whom we left behind were in a state of the deepest anguish; nor could I help observing to Lord Keith, who stood near me at the time, “You see, my Lord, that the only persons who shed tears are those who are to remain.”
We reached the Northumberland between one and two o’clock. The Emperor remained on deck conversing familiarly and cheerfully with those of the English who approached him. Lord Lowther and a Mr. Littleton had a long conversation with him on politics and government. I heard nothing of what passed; the Emperor seemed desirous that we should leave him to himself. I employed this moment of leisure in writing a last adieu to my wife and friends: indeed, I felt very unwell and much fatigued.
At the moment of getting under weigh, a cutter, that was plying round the ship to keep off the people, ran down a boat full of spectators close to us. Fatality seems to have brought them from a great distance to become the victims of this accident: I understood that there were two women amongst those who perished. Thus were we at length under sail for St. Helena, thirteen days after our arrival at Plymouth, and forty from our quitting Paris.
Those of the attendants whom Napoleon was not allowed to take with him were the last to quit the ship, bearing with them mingled proofs of satisfaction and regret. Their departure gave rise to a second scene, not less affecting than the first. The Emperor retired to the cabin allotted to him about seven o’clock.
The English Ministry warmly censured the respect which had been shewn to the Emperor on board the Bellerophon, and issued fresh orders in consequence; so that a totally different style of manner and expression was affected in the Northumberland. The crew seemed to betray a ridiculous anxiety to be covered before the Emperor: it had been strictly enjoined to give him no other title than that of _General_, and only to treat him as such. This was the ingenious contrivance, the happy conception, engendered by the diplomacy of the English Ministers; and the title they thought proper to confer on him whom they had recognised as First Consul, whom they had so often styled head of the French Government, with whom they treated as Emperor at Paris, when Lord Lauderdale was employed to negotiate, and, perhaps, even signed articles at Chatillon. Hence, in a moment of warmth, the Emperor, in allusion to this regulation, observed: “They may call me whatever they choose, but they cannot prevent me from being _myself_.” It was in fact no less whimsical than ridiculous to see the Ministers of England attach such importance to giving only the title of General to one who had governed so large a portion of Europe, and made seven or eight kings, of whom several still retained this title of his creation; who had been above ten years Emperor of the French, and been anointed as well as consecrated in that quality by the head of the Church; one who could boast two or three elections of the French people to the sovereignty; who had been acknowledged as Emperor by the whole of continental Europe; had treated as such with all the sovereigns; concluding every species of alliance both of blood and interest with them: so that he united in his person every title, civil, political and religious, existing amongst men: and which, by a singular though real coincidence, not one of the reigning Princes of Europe could have shewn accumulated in an equal degree, on the chief and founder of his dynasty. Nevertheless his Majesty, who intended, had he landed in England, to assume the name and title of Colonel Duroc or Muiron, no longer thought of it now that his legitimate titles were obstinately disputed.
DESCRIPTION OF THE EMPEROR’S CABIN ON BOARD THE NORTHUMBERLAND.
8th-9th. The ship was in the greatest confusion, and seemed to be quite encumbered with men as well as stores and luggage: we sailed in so great a hurry that there was scarcely any thing on board in its place, so that the whole crew was now occupied in restoring order, and preparing for the voyage.
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Memoirs of the life, exile, and conversations of the Emperor Napoleon. (Vol. I)Chapter II: Part 2
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