Chapter XI: Front Matter (11)

From Tuesday, Dec. 31st, 1816, to Friday, Jan. 17th, 1817.—When daylight appeared, St. Helena no longer existed for us, except in our hearts.—We were rapidly sailing away from that dear and accursed spot, in the midst of the ocean, and at an immense distance from both the old and the new world. The officers and the crew treated us with the most marked kindness; their care, their attention, their deference, the sympathy they expressed were such that, but for the language which I heard spoken, I might have fancied myself on board a French vessel. To the shyness and circumspection of St. Helena had succeeded a complete freedom from restraint. I then learnt how much I was indebted to Admiral Malcolm. It was he who had obtained for me the favour of a brig of war, instead of the wretched transport with which I had been threatened. As soon as he was apprized of Sir Hudson Lowe’s determination, he hastened to offer him one of his ships, assuring him that he could spare one, to save me from the inconveniences and the privations to which I should otherwise be exposed; and, making a signal, he ordered into the harbour the Griffin, the commander of which was one of the officers whom he most liked. It has already been seen that the Admiral brought him with him to see me.

My son devoted part of our passage to copying some papers which we had purposely torn, and the fragments of which we had distributed in various places amongst our baggage, or about our persons. Sir Hudson Lowe had rendered the precaution necessary, by informing me a short time before that he should again search my papers before my departure, in order to see what I might have written during my captivity.

The most important of these papers, the document I valued most, was what I have called a statement of our grievances at Longwood.

Whilst I was in Sir Hudson Lowe’s power, our conversations led me, at his own request, to make out a hasty statement enumerating our grievances. My son’s ill health, and the state of my eyes, prevented us from taking a fair copy of that statement for ourselves. I had asked the Governor to let me have some person to copy for me, which request he did not comply with, and I did not think it delicate to insist; since it was to lay before him a statement, which must be very unpleasant to him. On the other hand, as I was speaking without the knowledge of my companions, and yet frequently in their names, it was of great importance to me that they should be acquainted with what I said, in order to set me right if I had made any errors.

At the moment of my departure, I told Sir Hudson Lowe that I had completed the statement, and shewed him the parcel sealed, the contents of which, I said, I proposed to have copied at the Cape, or even on board the brig, and to send him two copies, one for himself and one for Longwood. Sir Hudson appeared to value the offer very much, but preferring, however, another arrangement, it was agreed that I should immediately deposit my manuscript in the hands of a third person, in order that each party might take a copy of it, and that the original should afterwards be returned to me. I therefore sought some person whose honourable disposition inspired me with confidence: General Bingham, the second in command in the Island, was the first person I thought of. To him I therefore addressed my manuscript, with the Governor’s consent, and under the express condition that it should be shewn at the same time to Sir Hudson Lowe and to Count Bertrand, who was aware of the arrangement.

I heard no more of this statement until six years afterwards, and then only through the medium of Dr. O’Meara’s work. The gentlemen of the Emperor’s suite, on their return from St. Helena, informed me that it had never been communicated to them, and that the Emperor was wholly ignorant of its contents. It appears that, after my departure, Sir Hudson Lowe, by the influence of his authority, and contrary to our express conditions, had taken the manuscript exclusively into his own possession, and had made it the subject of false interpretations or wicked inventions.

Mr. O’Meara, in his account of the occurrences at St. Helena, observes that Sir H. Lowe, availing himself of the information acquired by the perusal of the manuscript (the grievances), had recourse to an artifice well worthy of the system which he set on foot. He directed Mr. O’Meara to inform Napoleon that, during my confinement, I had confessed that the restrictions imposed on the French at Longwood were merely matters of form; and that I, as well as the rest of the French, had endeavoured to poison the mind of our Master, by means of calumny and falsehood; adding that this fact was unquestionable, since he had it stated in my own hand-writing. He even pretended to quote a sentence of this manuscript, which he requested Mr. O’Meara to repeat to the Emperor, and by which he wished to make it appear that I had confessed that the French about the person of the Emperor had made him view every thing through _a blood-stained veil_. On hearing this, the Emperor observed: _Certainly, wherever one sees an executioner, one sees blood_. And he added that he was convinced this was an invention of Sir Hudson Lowe’s, or a misrepresentation of some passage in my statement. On this occasion, Mr. O’Meara describes the Emperor to have said, “Las Cases certainly was greatly irritated against him (Sir H. Lowe), and contributed materially towards forming the impression existing upon my mind, because Las Cases is a man of feeling, and extremely sensible to the ill treatment practised towards me and himself. But I had no occasion for the assistance of Las Cases towards giving me that opinion, as the treatment I experienced was fully sufficient in itself to create it.”

He observed that I had constantly spoken to him of the English nation in terms of enthusiasm and admiration; though I certainly had expressed myself candidly and energetically respecting the treatment which the French had experienced at St. Helena, which I considered to be entirely contrary to the generosity and liberal sentiments of the English people.

In Mr. O’Meara’s work, entitled _Napoleon in Exile_, I find it mentioned, under date of Dec. 4, 1816, that Sir Hudson Lowe said, “I had much altered my opinion concerning him since the intercourse we had had together;” and he added that the French who were with General Bonaparte “only wanted to make an instrument of him, to aggrandize themselves, without caring by what means they effected it,” &c. Sir H. Lowe wished that Mr. O’Meara should signify this to the Emperor.

Under date of the 12th of Dec., Sir Hudson Lowe is described as having said that “Count Las Cases had not followed General Bonaparte out of affection;” and that “General Bonaparte did not know what Las Cases had written, or the expressions which had dropped from him.”

Again, under date of Jan. 14, 1817, Mr. O’Meara says: “His Excellency began to inveigh against Count Las Cases, whom he accused of having been the cause of much mischief between Bonaparte and himself. He said the Count had asserted in his Journal that Bonaparte had declared he abhorred the sight of the British uniform, or of a British officer; that he held both in abomination, and that I had better take an opportunity to tell him this, and add that I had heard him (the Governor) say that he did not believe he had ever said so.”

Finally, on another occasion, the Governor charged Mr. O’Meara to repeat, at Longwood that he had written to the English Ministers respecting me in such a way as would for ever prevent my return to France. What he could have written, Heaven knows! However, the result proved that either the English Ministers were not much influenced by his benevolent intentions, or that the French Ministers paid little regard to the representations that were made to them. It will hereafter be seen that, on my return to Europe, when I was prevented from residing in England, and it was left at my own option to proceed either to Calais or Ostend, I made choice of the latter place, for reasons totally foreign from the alarm which Sir Hudson Lowe pretended he had created. But, it would appear that he himself doubted the efficacy of his denunciation, or he had recourse to two-fold precautions, for he employed all his art and address to procure my detention as a prisoner at the Cape of Good Hope. I have been informed that, when speaking to his man of all-work respecting me, he said—“As for him, he will trouble us no more. We have given him good recommendations to the Cape: he will _rot_ in a dungeon there.” This same man, with the gentle smile and honeyed voice which rarely forsook him, wished, as Mr. O’Meara declares, that Napoleon should be put in irons if he proved troublesome: and, on another occasion, he is stated to have said, “That the Allies lost sight of a grand object in not strangling young Napoleon!”

But to return to my former subject. How was I to reconcile the Governor’s politeness, his protestations of kindness and good intention when he was near me, with his false reports, the invented language which he attributed to me, and the wicked suggestions which he transmitted to Longwood, when I was no longer there? Let candid and honest hearts decide this.

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The Cape of Good Hope is five hundred leagues from St. Helena; but, even with the most favourable winds, the passage must be lengthened to at least seven hundred, by the circuitous course which it is necessary to take on account of the trade-winds. A vessel, on leaving St. Helena, first stands well out to the south-west, in order to get as speedily as possible out of the Zone of the trade winds. As soon as the variable winds are attained, the ship steers towards the east, but descending considerably to the south, several degrees of latitude below the Cape, in order to guard against the south-easterly winds, which blow with great violence at this season of the year.

We had a very good voyage, and fell in with the winds just as we wished. Our passage was short and pleasant, though my son and I occasionally suffered severely from sea-sickness. On the 6th or 7th we got out of the trade winds, and fell in with the west wind, which brought us to our place of destination in nine or ten days. It was not until we were approaching the famous Cape of Storms that we encountered a violent adverse wind, blowing from the south-east, accompanied by a very rough sea. But this circumstance was adverse only with respect to the instructions of our Captain; to me, personally, it was extremely fortunate. Sir Hudson Lowe had directed the Captain to land me beyond the Cape, at Simon’s Bay, which is situated behind it. Probably he supposed that, by not entering the town, I should attract the less attention, and that the injustice of my captivity would be the less flagrant. Be this as it may, we were threatened with a storm, and the Captain took upon himself the responsibility of sailing for Cape Town, which was nearer at hand. We arrived off the coast at two in the morning, precisely at the hour which the Captain had foretold, without sounding or any other preliminary measure. Captain Wright is an excellent seaman; he possesses activity, zeal, regularity, and decision; and will, I doubt not, one day rise to eminence. I have observed that this nautical precision is now nearly general among the English. I know not what has been done in our navy, which was so long celebrated for scientific superiority; but I can affirm, from experience, that the English have attained great perfection. Their calculations are so correct, and their nautical instruments so perfect, that it is difficult to conceive that science is susceptible of further improvement.

We cast anchor at two o’clock in the afternoon on the 17th, after a passage of eighteen days. The Captain politely apologized for the necessity of detaining me on board, until he should go and receive the Governor’s orders: such were his instructions. He returned, informing me that I could not land until the 19th, as the residence which was intended for me could not be prepared before that time. This was rather a disappointment to me; for, after a sea voyage, one is naturally eager to set foot on land.

Thus I had to remain two days in the harbour of the Cape, which is extremely beautiful. The weather was delightful; excessively hot, it is true, but the air was at the same time pure and refreshing.

In my youth, when I first entered the navy, I had frequently heard officers who had served in India describe all the different points which were at this moment before my eyes. I felt a pleasure in reviving these old recollections; and all the places I mentioned were immediately pointed out to me by the persons on board the ship.

Cape Town is a tolerably extensive place, and is built in a style of beauty and regularity. It is situated on flat ground, very little above the level of the sea, and is almost closely surrounded by huge precipitous mountains. On my left was the Devil’s Mountain; before me rose the Table Mountain; and on my right were the Sugarloaf, and the Lion’s Rump, so called from their exact resemblance to the objects after which they are named. The fortifications in front and on each side of the town appeared to me to be in a very bad state, and particularly ill situated, being commanded by several points, and especially by the Lion’s Rump, which is itself easily accessible. I was not at all surprised that the garrison should have yielded to every attack of forces so little superior to its own. The most effectual plan until this defect be remedied, would be to land at a distance from the garrison, to the north, on an open part of the beach, entirely defenceless, and thence to march and attack the town by land. I recollected having heard it said that the clouds sometimes suddenly cover the Table and Devil’s Mountain, even when the rest of the sky appears perfectly serene. I had myself an opportunity of observing this curious phenomenon, during the short time I remained in the harbour. On these occasions, the mountains appear to be covered with snow, of the most dazzling whiteness, and this is vulgarly called _spreading the table-cloth_, which expression certainly conveys a very accurate idea of the spectacle presented. In winter, this peculiar appearance of the clouds is almost always the precursor of a storm. The harbour is entirely exposed to the north-west winds, which are frequent and violent in the bad season of the year. The shipping is then liable to great danger; the only shelter is under Robbin Island, at some distance from the entrance of the bay.

I mentioned to the persons on board an anecdote which I had often heard our naval officers relate. Suffren, on returning from the campaign of India, at the time of the peace, cast anchor at the Cape, some days before the English squadron, by which he was closely followed. The latter, on entering the harbour, had to tack, in order to gain the anchorage. On observing one of the ships as she entered, the French Admiral, at the very first glance, foretold that she would infallibly be lost, and he immediately ordered a signal to be given for all the boats belonging to his squadron to be in readiness to render assistance. In a few moments, the English ship ran aground; boats were sent off from all points: but the French had the glory of being the first to arrive. It was described as being a singular and affecting spectacle to see the two squadrons, which had lately been so desperately intent on mutual destruction, now vieing with each other in the benevolent task of succouring the distressed. The young English officers, to whom I related this circumstance, informed me that they had never before heard of it; so true it is that facts, which powerfully occupy the attention of contemporaries, are lost to the succeeding generation, when they are not of a nature to acquire historical importance.

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MY RESIDENCE AT THE CAPE.

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An interval of upwards of Seven Months.

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MY CONFINEMENT AT THE OLD CASTLE, &C.

From the 19th to the 28th of January.—When the Captain returned from his visit to the Governor, Lord Charles Somerset, his countenance sufficiently informed me that he had nothing agreeable to communicate. He was no longer the same man; his behaviour was cold and embarrassed, and his reserve was soon imitated by all the other persons on board. Several naval officers belonging to different ships in the harbour came to visit their friends on board the Griffin. I could easily perceive that they felt a certain degree of curiosity to see me, though they avoided as much as possible entering into conversation with me. They spoke to each other aside; and, by their looks, seemed to consider me as an outlaw. From these circumstances, and certain expressions dropped by the persons about me, I could perceive that, in spite of the distance, the security of the great captive was the subject of as much alarm and distrust here as at St. Helena; and I had every reason to expect that the dark cloud which enveloped Longwood would be extended over me at the Cape. Accordingly, as soon as I was put on shore at noon, I was met by the officer appointed to guard me. Captain Wright, who took me ashore in his boat, for the sake of old acquaintance, and I hope also from sincere sympathy, declined leaving me until I should be safely lodged in the abode that was destined for me. We therefore walked together to what is called the Old Castle or Fort. After crossing several drawbridges, and passing many sentinels, we arrived in the inner courtyard or parade, and thence proceeded by various stair-cases and galleries to the lodging assigned to us. The doors were locked. It was necessary to search for the keys; and, meanwhile, we were requested to wait in a room which was occupied by several officers of the garrison. By chance, an officer of the staff entered. He seemed to be greatly surprised to find that we were thus left in free communication with the persons about us; and, assuming a polite pretence, he conducted us to his own apartment to partake of some refreshment. After a few hours had elapsed, a messenger was sent to inform us that our apartments were ready. They consisted of three rooms, which we were enabled to discover in proportion as the cloud of dust with which they were filled gradually dispersed; for they had but that moment been swept. The first room was entirely empty; the middle one contained a large table, an arm-chair, with broken legs, and four other wretched chairs; the third contained two bedsteads, two bolsters, one mattress and three blankets: this was the whole of the valuable furniture. It was well that we had taken the precaution of bringing our beds with us from St. Helena. I was at a loss to comprehend how two days could have been occupied in such preparations. This circumstance did not afford me a very high notion of the regularity, precision, or promptitude of the new authority under which I was now placed.

The officer who had charge of us installed himself in the first room. A sentinel was immediately stationed on the outside, and I was informed that I must not communicate with any one. I now found myself literally a prisoner. I had complained of Balcombe’s Cottage; but here I was infinitely worse off. This, thought I, is the first effect of Sir Hudson Lowe’s kind recommendations.

Dinner was served. It was ordered by our officer, and was abundant. The staff-officer, who had used the precautionary politeness of conducting us to his apartment in the morning, thinking himself already on a footing of intimacy, or perhaps, being specially charged to watch over us, came familiarly to invite me to dinner. He and his comrade appeared to exert themselves to do the honours of the table in the most agreeable way. They seemed anxious to shew me every attention; but I did not feel myself at ease, and, alleging as an excuse the fatigue I had encountered during the day, I withdrew, leaving them _tête à tête_ over the bottle; and they sat until late at night, according to established custom.

On the following day, I received a visit from one of the captains of our station at St. Helena. Knowing the state of my son’s health, he brought a medical gentleman along with him. This was a mark of attention on his part, but the introduction occasioned, for some moments, a curious misunderstanding. I mistook the Captain’s medical friend for his son or nephew. The grave Doctor, who was presented to me, was a boy of eighteen, with the form, the manners, and the voice of a woman. But Mr. Barry (such was his name) was described to be an absolute phenomenon. I was informed that he had obtained his diploma at the age of thirteen, after the most rigid examination; that he had performed extraordinary cures at the Cape, and had saved the life of one of the Governor’s daughters, after she had been given up, which rendered him a sort of favourite in the family. I profited by this latter circumstance to obtain some information which might serve as a guide for my conduct with respect to the new Governor, to whom I that day addressed a letter, explaining my situation, and formally requesting to be sent to England, and restored to full and complete liberty. My letter was as follows:—-

“MY LORD,—Having been for several days under your authority, I take the liberty of addressing myself to your Excellency, in order to ascertain what are your intentions respecting me. Owing to a circumstance, of a nature wholly personal to myself, I was removed from Longwood, at St. Helena, on the 25th of November last, by Sir Hudson Lowe, the Governor of that island.

“A few days afterwards, in consequence of several conversations with the Governor, though without his coming to any decision on my case, I wrote to inform him that, from that moment I should withdraw from my voluntary subjection to him, and place myself entirely under the jurisdiction of the laws. I demanded that he would enforce the laws with respect to me; observing that, if guilty, I ought to be tried, and if not guilty, I ought to be restored to freedom. I added that the critical state of my son’s health, and also my own, imperatively demanded medical remedies of every kind, and I entreated that he would send us to England. Sir Hudson Lowe then seemed to hesitate. I have reason to believe that, at first, he entertained some idea of sending me to Europe. But he next determined to detain me at St. Helena, separated from Longwood, until the return of answers from England. He then several times offered to allow me to return to Longwood; and finally, he sent me to the Cape, under your Excellency’s orders, for the purpose, as it appears to me, by the literal interpretation of his instructions, of putting an end to his embarrassments, and perhaps expecting from another the same results respecting me; but without himself risking any personal responsibility. Such, my Lord, is the brief statement of facts which I conceive it necessary to submit to you, in order that you may form a correct idea of my real situation. I hope you will consider as perfectly natural, inoffensive and regular, the request which I have now the honour to address to you, and which is, that I may be sent to England as speedily as possible, and be restored to full and complete liberty, as far as my natural rights may consist with your political duties.

“I have the honour,” &c.

“P. S.—I beg that your Excellency will be pleased to inform me whether I may be allowed to write to his Royal Highness the Prince Regent and his Ministers. If that permission be granted, I shall do myself the honour of addressing to your Excellency two letters, with the request that you will forward them to England without delay. I shall also be obliged if you will let me know when there is an opportunity of communicating with St. Helena, as I have to address some papers to Sir Hudson Lowe.”

Two days afterwards, I received the Governor’s answer. It was very brief. Without entering into any particulars, he merely declared that he considered me as a prisoner _on the report of Sir Hudson Lowe_, and condemned me to remain at the Cape, until instructions arrived from England. I could make no resistance; I was compelled to submit. This I intimated to Lord Charles Somerset, in a second letter, in which I enclosed two others; the first addressed to Lord Castlereagh, requesting his Lordship to lay the second before the Prince Regent. My letter to Lord Charles Somerset was as follows:—

“MY LORD,—I have received the answer which your Excellency addressed to me, and from which I learn that I am to be detained a prisoner here until Sir Hudson Lowe shall receive answers from England respecting me. Doubtless your Excellency has, in your wisdom, accurately weighed the force of the reasons which induce you to adopt a measure of so serious a nature, as that of depriving me of my liberty, without any previous judicial forms, and even without my being made acquainted with the cause of my detention. All I can do is to submit to authority, and to rely on those laws which will protect me if I be entitled to protection.

“I shall not undertake any ulterior argument for my defence, being persuaded that you, my Lord, in the justice of your heart, when you determined on adopting so delicate a course, must have attentively considered the whole of my case. However, I perceive from your answer, that your decision rests on circumstances stated respecting me by Sir Hudson Lowe. But have these circumstances been satisfactorily proved in your Excellency’s eyes? Have you heard both sides of the question; or do you think yourself screened from all personal responsibility, by acting on the authority of Sir Hudson Lowe’s instructions, and without any regard to my remonstrances? How happens it that Sir Hudson Lowe could not venture, without risk, to detain me at St. Helena, while he finds it more easy and less inconvenient to do so at the Cape?

“If your Excellency should wish to render yourself acquainted with my affair, and to ascertain my sentiments, I am ready to submit to your perusal all my correspondence with the Governor of St. Helena, and to lay before you my letters to his Royal Highness the Prince Regent and his Ministers. I make this offer with the wish that it may be accepted. If to subject myself voluntarily, on my arrival in England, to any measures, however arbitrary, which might be deemed equivalent to my political quarantine here, would induce you to alter your determination, I am ready to accede willingly to that condition: such is my ardent desire to return to Europe, owing to the state of my son’s health and my own; and also on account of the melancholy solitude in which I find myself placed, separated as I am from my family, which is most dear to me, and from the revered object for whose sake I made the sad sacrifice of leaving my country.

“Finally, my Lord, if there remain no chance of my liberation, at least permit my son to depart. Let him not fall a victim to circumstances to which his age must render him wholly a stranger. I willingly consent to see him separated from me, in the hope of securing to him a happier lot than that which seems to be reserved for me. I will remain here alone, to struggle with my infirmities and sorrows, to which I shall resign myself with the greater indifference, when I reflect that my child is released from the sentence of lingering death which is executing on me, though I have been tried by no tribunal, and condemned by no judge.

“I have the honour to address to your Excellency a letter to Lord Castlereagh, enclosing one for his Royal Highness the Prince Regent. These letters were written before I received the information which you had the goodness to communicate to me on this subject. I know not to which of the Ministers I ought to have addressed myself; but I consider it unnecessary to write the letter over again, as the state of my eyes renders writing a very painful task, and I find that I have observed the necessary forms.”

LETTER TO LORD CASTLEREAGH, INCLOSING THAT
ADDRESSED TO THE PRINCE REGENT.

“MY LORD,—As I know not to which of your colleagues I ought to appeal, I address myself to you, as the person of whom I have acquired the greatest knowledge through public events. If the details relating to St. Helena have been communicated to your Lordship, they must, doubtless, have inspired you with great prejudice against me; and yet, had they been properly explained, my conduct must have appeared to you worthy of esteem, and, perhaps, even have excited your interest.

“At Longwood I considered myself within a sacred boundary, of which it was my duty to defend the approaches. I would willingly have died on the breach: _I resisted_. But now, when I find myself removed from the revered circle, and again mingling with the common mass, I assume another attitude: _I implore_.

“I therefore beg and entreat, my Lord, and I speak in the supposition that I am addressing the Minister to whom this appeal ought to be directed, I entreat that you will allow me to proceed to England, since the alarming state of my son’s health and my own renders skilful and prompt medical treatment necessary.

“What reason can there be for refusing my request? It cannot be personal hatred! I am too obscure to attain such an honour. It cannot be the vague dislike arising from difference of opinion! You are so much accustomed to difference of this kind in England, and it is cherished with so little rancour, that it would be ridiculous to suppose such a circumstance could operate to my prejudice. Can it be the fear that I should write or speak of the affairs of St. Helena? But would not your refusal to grant my request, in some measure, authorize the bitterness which it will be so easy to vent elsewhere? Besides, if your object were to restrain me from publishing, my residence in England would surely render this object the more secure and easy; for there you have not only general laws, but also particular laws, against such offences. When the individual is near you, you have, as positive guarantees, his prudence, his judgment, and, above all, his wish of remaining in the country.

“Thus, my Lord, I see no motive for refusing my request; but I see many reasons for granting it. You would, by this means, have the fairest opportunity of arriving at the truth, by procuring contradictory and opposite statements. In discharging the noble functions of a juror, can you satisfy your conscience by viewing only one side of the question? I can shew you the other; and I will do so, without prejudice or passion. You will find that I am inspired only by sentiment.

“I must now call your Lordship’s attention to my papers which are detained at St. Helena. I have several times explained their nature; but I will once more describe them. They are a collection of manuscripts, in the form of a Journal, in which, for the space of eighteen months, I inscribed all that I learned, saw, or heard respecting him who, in my eyes is, and will ever continue to be, the greatest of men. This Journal, which was incomplete, incorrect, unarranged and, from its nature, requiring continual correction, was a secret, which was revealed only by the circumstances that took place previously to my departure from St. Helena. Its existence known to none, except perhaps the august individual who was the object of it; and even he is, at this moment, ignorant of its contents. It was not destined to be published during my life; and I took pleasure in endeavouring to render it a complete and valuable historical monument. My Lord, I beg that you will order the whole of those papers to be forwarded to you. This you may do without inconvenience. I solemnly protest that they contain nothing that can, either directly or indirectly, be necessary or useful to the local authority of St. Helena, in furtherance of the great object with which that authority is intrusted. The inspection of my papers at St. Helena can be productive of no advantage; but, on the contrary, may occasion serious inconvenience by aggravating, through the personal allusions contained in them, the ill-humour and irritation that already prevail in too great a degree.

“If, on my arrival in England, your Lordship, from your political situation, should think proper to order the examination of these papers, which are of so sacred and private a nature, I shall cheerfully submit to your judgment, because the examination will take place under my own cognizance, and I shall have the security of those inviolable and sacred forms, which I am sure your Lordship will direct to be observed. I trust you will not refuse this second favour, which I urgently solicit.

“My Lord, I have the honour to forward to you a letter for the Prince Regent, which I beg you will do me the favour to lay before His Royal Highness. My profound respect for his august person alone prevents me from sending it unsealed; and I authorize your Lordship to open it, if custom admits of your doing so,—I have the honour,” &c.

LETTER TO THE PRINCE REGENT OF ENGLAND.

“ROYAL HIGHNESS,—The sport of the political tempest, wandering without a home, an unfortunate foreigner presumes confidently to appeal to your royal heart.

“Twice in the course of my life, I have had the misfortune to leave my country; on both occasions contrary to my interests, and with the intention of fulfilling great and noble duties. During my first exile, my abode in England assuaged the sorrows of my youth, and I trusted that England would again afford me an asylum in which I might enjoy a little tranquillity in my old age. However I have reason to apprehend that I shall be driven thence. Why should I be visited with this severity? Can it be on account of the place whence I came, the attentions which I took pleasure in administering there, and the tender sentiments which I shall ever entertain towards the individual from whom I am now separated? But, Prince, at Longwood I was practising a great and singular virtue; I was supporting, with my worthy companions, the honour of those who surround the thrones of monarchs. After the example we have presented, it cannot henceforth be said that love and fidelity are never shewn to unfortunate sovereigns.

“Should such conduct occasion me to be persecuted and banished from the asylum I seek? Surely he, who was always great, when he wrote for me on the rock of adversity, these words so gratifying to my heart: _Whether you return to France, or go elsewhere, always boast of the fidelity you have shewn to me_:—surely he, I say, has given me a right and title to the regard of kings. Prince! I throw myself on your royal protection.

“During my daily intercourse and conversations with him who once ruled the world, and filled the universe with his name, I conceived and executed the intention of writing down daily all that I saw of him, and all that I heard him say.

“This Journal, which includes an interval of eighteen months, and which is unique in its kind, but as yet incomplete, incorrect, undetermined, and unknown to all, even to the august individual to whom it related,—has been taken from me, and detained at St. Helena. Prince, I also place it under your royal protection, and I venture to entreat that you will receive it into your care, for the sake of justice, truth and history.

“If your Royal Highness should in your goodness deign to afford me your august protection, I shall hasten to seek, in England, an asylum where I may tranquilly recollect and deplore.

“I am, with the most profound respect,

“COUNT LAS CASES.”

I received in answer, from Lord Charles Somerset, the permission I had solicited for my son to proceed to Europe by the first opportunity. I wished my son to avail himself of this permission. I urged and even commanded him to do so; but he positively refused. On this subject he wrote a letter to the Governor, which was so gratifying to my feelings, and reflected so much honour on his own heart, that I cannot forbear transcribing it. It was as follows:—

“MY LORD,—My father has just communicated to me the permission you grant me to return to Europe. He has entreated and commanded me to accept it.

“I cannot, my Lord, avail myself of your indulgence, and I presume to disobey my father. Bodily afflictions are nothing; the sufferings of the heart alone are hard to be endured. I have been deprived of my mother, and I every moment deplore my separation from her; yet I will never forsake my father in a foreign country, and in a situation so different from all that he has been accustomed to. My health is an object of no importance to me. I shall be happy if I can afford any consolation to my father, and alleviate, by sharing, the miseries which have long been accumulating upon him.

“I prefer dying by his side to living at a distance from him. I am too proud of his distinguished virtues, and too eager to imitate his example, to part from him for a moment. I am ready to die here, since it must be so: there will be two victims instead of one.

“I thank you, my Lord, with all my heart, for your kind intentions respecting me. How grateful should I have been, how should I have blessed you, had you extended them to my father!

“I have the honour to be,” &c.

This letter had, doubtless, been read by the family of Lord Charles Somerset, and produced those favourable sentiments which it was naturally calculated to inspire. On the following day, when the young Doctor called to see us, I wished to draw him aside for the purpose of requesting that he would exert his professional influence over my son to induce him to depart. But, instead of listening to me, he hastened to Emanuel’s chamber, and embracing him, expressed his approval of his conduct, observing that he should not have respected him had he acted otherwise. Conducting him to the window, he introduced him to two ladies, whom he had left in their carriage, and mutual salutation passed between them. These ladies were the two daughters of Lord Charles Somerset, who had this morning themselves brought the Doctor as far as the court yard fronting our prison, probably for the purpose of satisfying the interest and curiosity which my son’s letter had excited.

Our situation continued to be most deplorable. We were confined in a sort of dungeon: our windows without curtains, overlooked a court-yard covered with scorching sand. Though it was now the month of January, we experienced in this hemisphere the burning heat of summer. We were almost suffocated.

We were still subject to the same restrictions and the same vexations, and the same officers presided at breakfast and dinner. This last circumstance was a particular annoyance to me. I determined to avoid it, and I therefore kept my bed and had my meals brought to me there: being determined not to leave my chamber until I should be released from the torments that surrounded me. I was besides, very unwell from pains in my stomach; I was occasionally feverish, and in short, my health was totally deranged. The officer on duty informed me, it is true, that he had orders to conduct me into the town and even the environs, whenever I should express a wish to that effect. I thanked him, and though I could not myself profit by this favour, I accepted it for my son.

Meanwhile, nobody came near me. Whether it was that the officer, knowing me to be unwell, thought he was rendering me service, or whether he was acting in in conformity with orders, I know not: but he repulsed all who attempted to approach me. This gave rise to a curious circumstance. Our chamber-door led into a corridor, along which we were permitted to walk: having one day proceeded to the end of it, I found, contrary to custom, a little door open, leading to a steep staircase. Curiosity induced me to ascend, and I found myself on the platform of the fort, whence I could command a view of Cape Town and the boundless ocean. Struck with the beauty of the spectacle, I became so wrapped in the meditations to which it gave rise, that two hours elapsed ere I thought of returning. By chance I had come out while my son was taking a walk with our officer. In the interim, the sentinel had been changed, and when I presented myself at the door leading to our apartments, the soldier placed his musket across it, and rudely refused to admit me. The more I insisted on being admitted, the more angrily he expressed his determination to exclude me. This appeared to me odd enough, but I thought it still more droll when I found it necessary to descend the staircase, pass through the court-yards to the outer guardhouse, and obtain entrance to my prison by main force. The officer on duty, alarmed at sight of me, ran furiously to the sentinel who was posted on the outside of our apartments, and a violent altercation ensued between them. The officer severely reprimanded the man, and threatened to have him punished. The soldier, with his eyes starting out of his head, declared that he had discharged his duty; and I, who remained a tranquil spectator, could not forbear smiling at this curious dispute, the cause of which no one could explain but myself. However, peace was soon established at the expense of the captive. I was again placed under confinement, and order was restored in the fort.

The only stranger I saw was Doctor Barry, who frequently visited me. I found his company very agreeable. He constantly recommended me to take care of my health. He said he could guess the seat of my disorder, and regretted that it was out of his power to prescribe any remedy for me. I assured him that the greatest favour he could confer on me would be to procure a person who could read to me and write from my dictation. This I had been vainly soliciting since my arrival, for the state of my eyes precluded all occupation, and my son was strictly enjoined to abstain from all sedentary employment. I therefore laboured under an intolerable depression of spirits, in being thus wholly abandoned to my melancholy thoughts.

The Doctor informed me that the Governor was about to depart, to make a tour over the colony, and that he would be absent about three months. This information precluded the hope of any change in my condition. I determined to make a last attempt, not that I counted on its success, but only because I wished to leave nothing untried; for the horrible and truly discourteous way in which I had been treated astonished me less than it was calculated to do. I was prepared for it. At St. Helena, we had been repeatedly informed that Lord Charles Somerset was our personal enemy, and, on my arrival at the Cape, when I made inquiries respecting his character and the sort of reception I was likely to experience, I was told that nothing but a dog or a horse could claim his attention. Subsequently, in the solitude of my prison, I often thought to myself that, being neither a dog nor a horse, I might despair of obtaining any notice from the Governor. I shall soon show how little Lord Charles Somerset deserved these reflections.

Profiting by a passage in his letter, in which he expressed a wish to render my stay at the Cape as agreeable as possible, I took the opportunity in my next letter candidly to communicate to him my thoughts respecting the treatment I experienced. My letter was as follows:—

“MY LORD,—I learn that your Excellency is on the eve of leaving Cape Town, and that you will be absent for a considerable time: this induces me, with extreme repugnance, to enter upon a disagreeable subject, and to call your Excellency’s attention to a few domestic details. I think it my duty to do this, for otherwise, should any public expression of dissatisfaction hereafter escape me, I might justly incur the reproach of having addressed no complaint to your Excellency.

“But before I enter on the subject, my Lord, that you may not regard as ridiculous the facts which I am about to state: and also to afford you a just idea of the circumstances in which I am placed, of which I think it very probable your Excellency is ignorant, permit me to observe, with all the embarrassment of one who is obliged to introduce himself, that there is no individual here with whom I may not, and ought not naturally and without reserve to place myself on a level _in every respect whatever_. Finally, I neither request, nor solicit any indulgence nor favour relative to my personal wants, wishing in this respect to depend entirely on my own resources.

“These two points being fixed and determined, I proceed to that passage in your letter in which you have the goodness to express your wish of rendering my stay here as agreeable as possible. On this subject, I must acquaint your Excellency that I am imprisoned in a kind of dungeon, in which it will be difficult for me much longer to support existence.

“My son and I, who are both unwell, are, in this extremely hot weather, lodged in a very small chamber, where we breathe unwholesome air, and have scarcely room to move, for our beds nearly fill it. The scorching rays of the sun, darting on a window without curtains, compel me to pass the day in bed. There is, it is true, another adjoining apartment of the same kind; but it is a dining room, where two of your officers do the honours of the table. If I occasionally enter this room, I count every moment I spend in it. There is a third room, which is occupied by the officer who is appointed as our guard, and through which I must pass, however unpleasant to me, on every indispensable occasion.

“Whatever may be the hardships and miseries of such a situation, I have been a sailor, I have been a soldier, and what is more, I am a man, and I can in silence endure this and even more. I speak here, only in answer to the obliging paragraph in your letter. There is no fire in our apartments; so that if we should require warm water, on account of my son’s health or any transient wants, we must either do without it, or have recourse to the charity of our neighbours. The Doctor has in vain prescribed the use of the bath for my son; no water can be obtained for this purpose. If I feel a wish to procure any little thing at my own expense, I am informed that your Excellency has ordered every thing to be provided for me; and thus, from motives of delicacy I repress my wish, and abstain from gratifying it.

“I spare your Excellency a multitude of details, which are equally beneath your notice and mine. When the hour of dinner arrives, two officers, who, I feel pleasure in acknowledging, treat me with great politeness and respect, preside at the table. But it is a singular fact, though a very certain one, that even their attentions add to my discomfort, by obliging me to endeavour to return them in a suitable way, though it would be far more natural and desirable for me to allow my thoughts to wander far from the spot in which I am now situated. Besides, our habits and manners are totally different. I find myself under the necessity of sitting for several hours at table, when I should not from choice sit for half an hour. All conversation must be disagreeable to me, unless it be on the subject which now wholly occupies my thoughts. Your Excellency has too much judgment not to perceive that the situation in which I am placed is an absolute torment to me. My melancholy is, doubtless, as irksome to my table companions as their gaiety is annoying to me. Perfect solitude is alone agreeable to me; and, therefore, I have completely withdrawn from the dinner-table, and I take my meals in bed.

“Where is the necessity for an officer being attached to my person? I presume to ask your Excellency this question, while at the same time I repeat, with pleasure, that I cannot sufficiently express my satisfaction with the one whom you have appointed to attend me. Is it for the purpose of watching me? Surely the sentinel posted at my door is sufficient for that purpose. Can it be intended as a mark of respect, for the sake of transmitting any wish that I may express? But I have no wish. Can it be to give the sanction of authority to any visits I may receive? I can receive none, except such as are permitted by authority. Is it for the purposes of accompanying me in my walks? I will never consent to stir a step, if I must be a trouble to an officer. I shall not therefore go abroad.

“Since, my Lord, you are determined that I shall remain your prisoner, what objection can you have to placing me in a house in the town, and permitting me to engage, at my own expense, any valet, cook, &c. that may suit me, with the precautions that you may think proper to adopt. When thus left to myself, your Excellency might provide as you pleased for my security. You would hear no more of me. If I felt a wish to go out in a carriage, or otherwise, I could write to the officer: I know his obliging disposition, and my wish would be granted. I have mentioned a house in the town, my Lord, because the state of my son’s health, which requires constant, and often sudden, medical attendance, renders a residence in the country objectionable.

“Such are the details to which I feel myself compelled to call your Excellency’s attention. I hope that they may be less disagreeable and painful to you than they are to me.

“I have the honour to be,” &c.

This letter was, from its nature, calculated to lead to a decisive result. I received an immediate answer. The Adjutant General came to inform me, in the name of the Governor—1st. That he had given orders that a separate chamber should be assigned to my son on the following day;—2d. That the officers should no longer take their meals with us;—3d. That a more convenient residence was preparing for us; and, finally, that if I had any other wish to express, endeavours would be made to comply with it.