Chapter I: Am Not Allowed to Remain in England.—removal to Ostend.—persecutions (5)

Prince Jerome has caused me to be assured that his offers of service would know no other bounds than those of _impossibility_. He has given an asylum near his person to the worthy and virtuous Planat, who, after our separation on board the _Bellerophon_, was tossed about by storms, and on the point of perishing on the coast. Princess Hortense informs me that she has suffered much persecution; but that if the torments inflicted upon her have originated in the tender and respectful devotedness which fills her heart, they are a source of pride and of happiness to her.

Whenever my health will allow me, I go to pay my respects to Princess Joseph, who is confined to the most absolute retirement, and chiefly to her bed, by the bad state of her health. We talk of St. Helena. Our thoughts traverse the seas; those are happy moments for us. Her daughters are quite well; her husband, from very late accounts, was likewise well. He had taken under his care two of the Emperor Napoleon’s servants, whom the British government had thought proper to retrench from the establishment of Longwood.

Prince Lucien gives me an account of all those of the family who are assembled in Rome. Madame, Cardinal Fesch, Princess Borghese, and Prince Louis are all in the enjoyment of good health, and unite in wishes and prayers for the health and preservation of their august relative. As for Prince Lucien, he says he is happy in Rome; he has just provided advantageously for his three daughters. Yet his mind and his heart are incessantly directed towards St. Helena. He can no longer reconcile himself to the idea of seeing his brother languishing and dying in exile. He desires that I will candidly tell him whether the Emperor would be as happy to see him as he himself would be to appear before him; and conformably to his desire I write to the British Government by the courier who bears this letter, to request they will allow him to proceed to St. Helena, and to reside there a couple of years or for life, if his brother does not send him away, with or without his wife and children: his wife wishing to share in the honour of his exile: and further, to state that he will engage not to occasion any augmentation of expense, either for himself or for his suite, and that he will submit to the same restrictions that are imposed upon his brother, and to any others that it might be thought proper to impose upon him personally, either before his departure, or after his return.

I cannot refrain, my dear General, from again requesting you will ascertain if the Emperor would intrust to me the _Campaigns in Italy_; you might next forward to me those of Egypt in their turn. They are both real treasures for the learned world and for history, quite foreign to the politics of the present day, and consequently not liable to any objection. I have written to London to convey the Countess Bertrand’s thanks for the friendly recollections that were so kindly expressed towards her, and the amiable attentions that were shewn to her children. If I had had it in my power to remain in England, I should have endeavoured to find out upon the spot some articles that I might have thought acceptable to the ladies. At this distance I can command nothing beyond my good wishes; they are very sincere towards them and towards you all, my dear companions. The fatal rock is ever impressed upon my heart.

I am still far from being well: my headaches are daily increasing; the physicians are at a loss to give an opinion upon the subject. May God be pleased to preserve my health, for the service and benefit of those who are dearest to my heart. I embrace you all affectionately. Take care of yourselves, and may you enjoy good health; it will be my reward, and the reward of your friends, who love you as I do.

COUNT DE LAS CASES.

THIRD LETTER FROM COUNT DE LAS CASES TO GENERAL
COUNT BERTRAND.

_Frankfort, March 15, 1818._

I experience a certain pleasure, my dear General, in writing my third letter to you, from the thought that my first must now be very near reaching you. I hope my second is already on its way to St. Helena, although I am not fortunate enough to be certain of it. A great many publications were to be sent on at the same time, and I am going to transmit a note of some others to be sent with the present letter.

I have just heard from my wife, who is on the point of quitting Paris to come with my children and reside with me. She informs me that she had seen the family of General Gourgaud, and had given to them all the details which she had heard from me concerning himself and your establishment at Longwood. His mother and his sister are both very well, and send him the assurance of their most affectionate love and good wishes. Your family, Grand Marshal, was in one of the provinces, and for some time past no news had been received from them. With respect to the family of Count Montholon, Madame de Las Cases has not been fortunate enough to meet with anybody belonging to it. I hope to be able in my next letter to speak of your friends, notwithstanding they are away from the capital.

All the members of the Emperor’s family are quite well. I have heard of every one of them since my last, and shall hear every month, so as to be able to transmit regular information to you. They all follow him with their good wishes, and live only for him. Most of them had been hitherto entirely deprived of any information respecting him, and the little that I have been enabled to give has therefore proved most valuable and dear to them. To satisfy their interest and their affection, which are both natural, I shall request the British Government, when they receive news from St. Helena, to allow me to receive the intelligence of the state of the Emperor’s health; it is a favour which I shall request in the name of a numerous family, and I hope it will not be refused to the sentiment which dictates it.

Prince Jerome has done me the honour to inform me that the conditions attached to the permission of corresponding with his august brother, and his profound veneration for him whom he acknowledges as his second father, have alone prevented him from having the happiness of writing to him, and laying his existence at his feet. If the situation of the Emperor be not improved next year, he proposes to ask permission of the British Government to go to St. Helena, with his wife and his son, supposing that such a voyage could not be opposed by any reasonable objection. The Queen his wife, to whom nothing is foreign that is noble and elevated, is inspired with the same sentiments, and expresses the same wishes.

Cardinal Fesch also writes to me in the name of Madame and in his own, requesting me to observe that, being the only two whose attention is not divided by individual ties, arising out of the consideration of a family, and the fear of exposing it to inconveniences, I must apply to them in preference for every thing that can contribute to alleviate in any way the horrible situation of the Emperor.

Countess Survilliers, whom I have the honour of seeing very frequently, and whose wishes are incessantly turned towards St. Helena, is in a very indifferent state of health. She suffers very much, and even occasions some uneasiness. The princesses her daughters are quite well.

I have just received, at last, my papers which had been seized in the Thames. They have reached me after four months of useless rambling and of daily privation to me. Fatality alone can have occasioned the delay, for they have been returned to me unopened.

I long very much to hear from you, and to receive your commissions. Unfortunately, the distance is so great, and the communications are so irregular, that I shall have yet to write for some time. Ask me for every thing you want; until then I am reduced to guess. You will soon receive that part of the Moniteur which you have not. I write this day on the subject.

I have at last received a letter from my agent in London. He informs me that he has honoured my bills, which I am happy to hear. But he also informs me that he has received besides from you two other bills, which he has been under the necessity of refusing, for want of advice or authority from me. I am sorry for this. Since I have left you, I had not been able to communicate with him. I have immediately answered his letter, directing him to remedy the evil as far as it lies in his power. He does not however give me any particulars respecting those bills.

My health is still as indifferent as ever, not to say much worse. I am quite disheartened by it, and the more so, as the season is getting very fine, and this circumstance does not however produce any beneficial change to me. That is the reason why I remain at Frankfort, being placed in the centre of a great number of mineral springs, to which the physicians intend to send me.

Receive for yourself, Grand Marshal, and for my dear companions, the expression of my wishes and of all my sentiments. The colony of Longwood occupies and fills every moment of my existence. Take care of yourselves. Such is the wish of those who love you. I daily hear it expressed for you all. There are in this place or in the neighbourhood, several of the exiles; some were particular acquaintances of yours. They love and venerate you.

COUNT DE LAS CASES.

FOURTH LETTER FROM COUNT LAS CASES TO GENERAL
COUNT BERTRAND.

_Frankfort, 15th April, 1818._

Madame Las Cases has continued her inquiries respecting your family and that of the gentlemen. I have myself written direct. My letters have been returned to me by a _valet de chambre_. I have learned that your family were well and undisturbed. The sister of General Gourgaud has written me a very agreeable letter, full of tenderness for her brother. As to my third attempt, though repeated, it produced only absolute silence, You will find, M. Grand Marshal, my details very barren. It is not my fault: I write to you every thing I can. You will do wrong to judge, by my want of matter, of all my cares and incessant exertions.

I continue to receive news of all the members of the family of the Emperor. They are all well in health. His son continues a fine boy. The Empress, they write me, is very thin. I have lately seen a person of the household of the Princess Murat. He was specially charged to describe to me her tender solicitude for her august brother, her devotion and her wishes. I have received a letter from the Princess Eliza, full of the same sentiments. They all live only to think of him who is so dear to them, who loaded them with kindnesses, and now engrosses all their affections. The Princess Eliza resides at Trieste. She informs me that she has written five times to St. Helena. The Cardinal writes to me, on his part, that they have written very often from Rome. I have received an answer from London to the request which I made, and of which I informed you in my last, for leave for Prince Lucien to visit his august brother. The answer has not appeared sufficiently explicit for me to send it to you before I have a new explanation.—Prince Jerome, who talked of making a like attempt next year, has not been able to postpone for so long a time a step, the success of which would delight his heart. He is going to address himself to the Prince Regent, for permission for himself; his wife and son, to undertake the voyage immediately.

The Cardinal has given me a very full account of all the members of the family settled at Rome. The Princess Hortense enjoys tranquillity at Augsburg, where she is occasionally visited by her brother. She is occupied with the education of her second son. She has had the eldest with her several months, who has developed, during his short visit, all the qualities which honour, attach, and interest. He has returned to Rome to his father, who is settled in that city. I hope that my first letter has reached you before this; and I reckon the days and hours that will bring me your answer, because then I shall know more particularly what I can do to be agreeable to each of you. Be assured that I and mine only live for this; and that death itself could not interrupt the course of my efforts for that purpose. I shall have provided a successor. Let me then know all your wishes. Nothing will be impossible to my zeal, to the affection and devotion of those who assist me.

I have received a very polite answer from London respecting all the articles which I desired to be sent to your address. I am assured that the several pamphlets, which I mentioned, are about to be sent off. I am told that the _Morning Chronicle_, the _Journal du Commerce_, and that of Paris, which they say is the best, have been ordered for you. As for the rest, upon this point, as upon every other, write to me your wishes. Tell me every thing that may give pleasure to the establishment.

As to provisions, wine, coffee, oil, &c. which I mentioned in my letter, I am answered that a considerable supply, and of the best quality had been dispatched to you: the list has been sent me. It is added, Lord Holland had sent a quantity, at the request of the Princess Borghese: an invoice of that also has been sent me.

My health, unfortunately, is still very deplorable: I see no amendment. The physicians insist that I shall entirely abstain from business.—I am going to take the waters somewhere. I shall most probably inform you, in my next, of my departure from Frankfort. I have had an opportunity of seeing here several of the exiles, who have found a temporary refuge in this city or its vicinity. They flatter themselves daily with their speedy recal. Public opinion demands it, they are told. It is thought that about the end of the year all the French will be at liberty to reside in France. I have, however, myself, been a stranger to the severity exercised towards them. Madame Las Cases, on her return to Paris, received from old friends a great deal of advice, and many offers on my account. They pressed forward in the most obliging manner to offer their services and their influence; but she has constantly answered that in reality I wanted no assistance, and it was not my intention moreover to put the kindness of any one to the test; that I had voluntarily banished myself for a holy and religious ministry; and in fact I shall no more have a country, Monsieur Grand Marshal, as long as you shall be where you are, and there shall remain a single chance that my efforts, my devotion, and my zeal, may be able to afford you any useful or agreeable consolation—until then I shall be a wanderer in the world. I shall carry about every where, if it must be, my atmosphere of sorrow and zeal. On your part, keep me in your remembrance; give me the consolation of imagining that our thoughts cross each other, and sometimes are interchanged. Patience and courage are the virtues of heroes. Who knows better than I that they belong to you all? Adieu—I embrace you.

COUNT DE LAS CASES.

FIFTH LETTER FROM COUNT LAS CASES TO GENERAL
COUNT BERTRAND.

_Frankfort on the Maine, 15th May, 1818._

I would write to you this day, my dear Bertrand, merely to be punctual and faithful to the date which I have invariably prescribed to myself, every month, for giving news of me. No change having taken place in my situation, I could only repeat, word for word, the matter contained in my last. I hoped to have been able to send you my letter from another place; but a severe complaint in my eyes, which has come to aggravate my other afflictions, has hitherto prevented me from setting out for some of the warm baths in the south of Germany, to which I shall repair, however, in a few days.

I have the satisfaction to learn that my preceding letters have been regularly despatched to you, and that a great many pamphlets have been sent off. I wish they may amuse you. Unfortunately I provide for you a little in the dark;—the circumstances of locality will be my excuse; I do my best; I am in a bad situation for that. Such a case as mine would require a capital.—I am not permitted to reside in London; and in Paris I could not accomplish my purpose. The same distance prevents me from thinking of sending you a great many little things with which I might employ myself if I were upon the spot. I had thought of completing for you a little chemical apparatus, but renounced it. I understand that it would be useless to you.

All the relatives of the Emperor are well, and await with impatience the regular course of your letters, of which they entertain no doubt, as you will have received my first, with my invariable resolution to send you theirs every month punctually.—My wife will rejoin me in a few days, to part no more, I hope.

Adieu, accept my wishes.

COUNT LAS CASES.

LETTER FROM COUNT LAS CASES TO MR. GOULBURN,
ENCLOSING TO HIM THE PRECEDING.

_Frankfort on the Maine, 19th May, 1818._

I have the honour to thank you for the kindness with which you have been pleased to inform me of the departure of my letters for St. Helena, as also of that of the pamphlets and journals with which you have been pleased to accompany them.

I am sorry you should have found it necessary to preserve silence, upon certain points in my last letter. My discretion will know how to interpret that silence. I owe it to the personal kindness which you have hitherto shewn me, not to return to the subject any more. I have written to the Cardinal Fesch, agreeably to a passage in your letter, that he may send, by the way he shall think most proper, the sequel of the Moniteur, reckoning from 1808, addressed to the office of Lord Bathurst in London; and that his Lordship allows their transmission to St. Helena.

As to the passage of your letter, Sir, concerning the request which I had the honour to make to you, for a regular bulletin of the health of Napoleon, in the name, and on the behalf of the members of his family, may I be permitted to pray you will observe to my Lord Bathurst that the whole of the family of the Emperor are not at Rome; that he has one sister and her family at Frankfort; a brother and his family in Austria; two other sisters and their families in the vicinity of Vienna and Trieste; without reckoning others, all of whom would esteem it the greatest favour, and would consider it a real gratification to their heart, should the sentiments which induced Lord Bathurst to send regular accounts to Rome, induce him condescendingly to allow of their being regularly transmitted to them also. I was not ignorant of the gratification which had been hitherto procured for the Princess Borghese; but it did not extend from Rome to all the members of the family in Germany, where the route was then much more circuitous than that which I had the honour to request. Whatsoever title and right my heart might give me, perhaps, to solicit for myself a participation in this bulletin, I shall learn to renounce entirely and put myself completely aside; and not doubting but that the favour will be more highly appreciated by those for whom I solicit it, if it should come directly from Lord Bathurst, rather than pass through my hands, I shall solicit therefore anew, and in the name of the Countess of Survilliers (the Princess Joseph Bonaparte), who resides in this city, that he will have the goodness to send to her regularly the same accounts which he has the goodness to address to the Princess Borghese at Rome. The Countess of Survilliers will undertake to communicate them to all the family in Germany.

Sir, I have learned, from the public journals, the unexpected return of General Gourgaud. This sensible diminution of the household of Napoleon, this new privation of one servant more, penetrates my heart, and has determined me to pray that you will please to request of Lord Bathurst to allow me to return to St. Helena, accompanied by my family. This intention and this desire will never forsake me, as his Lordship may convince himself by the whole of my correspondence with Sir Hudson Lowe, from the moment of my quitting the colony. I do not think it would be necessary to demand the previous consent of the Emperor Napoleon to this request, because I dare flatter myself that his answer would not be doubtful. However, if Lord Bathurst should deem it necessary, I entreat his Lordship to make the application himself: he will see that in my letter to Longwood I have abstained from mentioning this circumstance. Considerations of delicacy, which his Lordship will know how to appreciate, have restrained me. The deplorable state of my health will be no obstacle. I am ambitious to go and find a grave at the feet of him whom I venerate, and to whose cares I shall find it sweet to consecrate my latest breath.

Accept, Sir, the expressions of the perfect consideration, &c.

COUNT LAS CASES.

I lost not a moment, on the receipt of the documents sent by Count Bertrand, in despatching a copy of them to each of the Sovereigns at Aix-la-Chapelle. I took this opportunity to renew my entreaties. I implored them to succour the illustrious victim. “A few days more,” said I, “and it will be too late.” The physician whom they had snatched away from him (an Englishman,) declared publicly in London that a much longer residence upon that unwholesome rock would cause his death. I ventured to represent to them that their humanity, the sentiments of their hearts, might be arrested perhaps by formal denials, but would not their justice listen to the other side of the question? I demanded that I might be allowed to furnish them with it, I solicited the sole favour of being heard in behalf of this sacred cause; “consenting,” I said, “if I did not prove the truth of the documents laid at their feet, that my shame and my blood should expiate my offence in having dared to impose upon them.”—At the same time I did not lose one opportunity, one instant, one thought, which might have multiplied the chances of any success. I addressed myself to every one, who, I learned, had any influence over the hearts of the Monarchs. I wrote particularly to M. de la Harpe, the tutor of the Emperor Alexander, so well known, so venerated, who, I had been told, was at that moment with him at Aix-la-Chapelle.

Neither upon this occasion, nor any other, have I ever had the slightest answer to any one of my letters; and if any thing has been sometimes insinuated to me indirectly and with mystery, I was obliged to suspect it as a snare laid against my person, which was of small moment; or against my cause, which was every thing to me. Thus the Congress ended, and not a word escaped from it in favour of Napoleon. In fine, I sought to stimulate even foreign talents; and in the number of voices then raised, the pamphlet of a certain German journalist attracted sufficient attention to serve for a pretext to devise trammels for the liberty of the press.

However, all the efforts which I had called forth were vain, all my hopes were blasted, all my pains were thrown away—they left him to die! In fact, what could the naked Truth avail with sovereigns, without the protection of any address, or the alliance of any interests, against the insinuations of wicked men, who watched with all the ardour of political fanaticism, private resentment, and prospective apprehensions! They acted so effectually that in the council of kings, fear, no doubt, prevailed over generosity. They demonstrated how dangerous universal interest rendered the victim: and it may be truly said, to the glory of generous sentiments, that public opinion was pronounced every where with great warmth; not less in Germany, than in any other country. And perhaps, in the sight of the high personages who were witnesses of it, this favourable opinion did a great deal of mischief to him whom it meant to serve; as if it had been in the destiny of Napoleon that the interest of the Germans should become as baneful to him in adversity, as their animosity had been fatal to him in the time of his power.—Amongst the efforts to maintain the hideous captivity of Napoleon, there has been actually imputed to the English Ministers a base intrigue, an unworthy deception. It was said that, to confirm the wavering Sovereigns, they had forged, for the express purpose, a pretended plot of escape. The imputation was founded upon the timeliness, the éclat, and publicity, with which the arrival of the Musquito brig suddenly caused this news to spread through all Europe; a circumstance, which, after it had once produced the intended effect, that of counterbalancing the public favour, gave room to no further mention, to no detail, to no confirmation whatsoever; an imaginary conjecture, no doubt, and in which the English Ministers are probably culpable, only in having afforded ground for suspecting them of it by the numerous antecedent cases, in which they degraded themselves in acting against Napoleon.

To my chagrin was added the fear of seeing old persecutions revived against me, in my peaceful solitude. The spring of 1819 was approaching. The excellent Grand Duke of Baden was just dead. Those who did not like us became stronger by this event, and it was signified to me, without the knowledge of the new sovereign perhaps, that I must quit the States of Baden. The order was given to me only verbally, and I was even informed that I should receive it in no other way. The motive for my removal, it was said, was the desire to live in close friendship with France, and the fear that my stay would be disagreeable to her; a motive that must excite a smile of pity. I disdained to say that the French Minister had thought fit to leave me in repose; the intolerance of opinion had discovered another motive to the full as ridiculous. The person charged with the order against me was very willing to grant me some days for preparation, but I was nearly like the Greek philosopher, who carried his all upon his own person; and I would have set out at the very instant of the notification itself, if Madame Las Cases had not been afflicted with an inflammation of the lungs which placed her in great danger. I assured him that I should only allow myself time to see her out of danger; and although the well-meant advice was given me to solicit Government for permission to remain, I still disdained it; and a few days afterwards, I set out on my route for Offenbach, where Madame Las Cases was to join me, when she should be in a state to travel.

If I felt myself so much hurt by this unexpected treatment, it is because I had already forgotten all the vexations with which I had been overwhelmed by the English authorities, and for more than a year, during which I lived upon the German soil, I was not subjected to such forms; but, on the contrary, I was spoiled by the favour, the interest, the respect, of which I every where saw myself the object, even among those of a contrary opinion; and, besides, on leaving Manheim, I was far from being embarrassed for a new residence. Some friends, in their kind precautions, had sounded some neighbouring governments; I was assured of a favourable reception in several. One of the princes, addressed upon the occasion, answered, with a smile, “Yes, no doubt; he should be well received and well treated. So far from repulsing a man of this character, a prince who understands his own interest should have his courtiers inoculated from him.”

However, in expatiating here so freely upon my successes, I must not disguise my disappointments. Now and then I had also my little mortifications. All was not roses: and, without reckoning the expulsion from Manheim, for example, of which I was speaking, they found great fault, in another place, with the respect shewn to me, being, they said, one of those wretches who had arrested the King of France at Varennes; and who more lately had done, perhaps, still worse. In another place, a Baron who gave a grand evening party, informed his guests that he had at length ascertained who this Count and Councillor of Napoleon’s was whose arrival had made so great a noise in the city. He was, he informed them, nothing but his cook from St. Helena; and that, not having means to pay him his wages at parting, he had, as a compensation, created him a Count and Councillor of State. If the Baron believed what he said, he was assuredly a good easy man, and if his object was only to make his guests believe it, he must have taken them for great simpletons. The pleasant part of the story remains, for we must tell the whole; and it is that, in fact, the cook from Longwood had passed through a few days before: and thus it appears how anecdotes and the biographies of the saloon are engendered and multiply; and the devil himself cannot afterwards eradicate them. I could smile at the wickedness or the stupidity. Their acts and their words were only ridiculous and grotesque; but a circumstance of an important nature presented itself, which would have distressed me excessively, if I did not know how much the mass of error which presses round sovereigns may impair the soundness of their judgment.

I was assured that some one at the Congress of Aix-la-Chapelle, finding himself disposed, in the presence of the Emperor Alexander, to touch upon the frightful situation of Napoleon, and citing the authentic statements produced by me in his support, that Prince answered, “We must not believe all that this man is come to tell us in Europe; he is an intriguer.” How is it that the most enlightened princes are deceived; even those from whom we should expect better? Unless it was here, as with Napoleon, who often used peevish expressions, after his own manner, and not implying harm; and besides, by good fortune, I have still on my side, time, that true crucible of characters. Years have since elapsed, and the unanimous opinion, I dare hope, of all those who have known or followed me, would sufficiently clear me from such an accusation. “An intriguer!” I, who have worn out upon a rock all the vanities of this world! I, who in the clouds of Longwood, have seen all things from so great a height, that they remain small indeed to my eyes! I, who of all people on earth, know nothing to desire! I, in fine, who, no longer considering myself of this world, cannot have, and have not in fact, any other ambition whatever, any other wish, than that of Diogenes—“that they would not stand between me and the sun.”

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FROM MY ARRIVAL AT OFFENBACH, UP TO
MY RETURN TO FRANCE.

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A Space of more than Two Years.

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RESIDENCE AT OFFENBACH.—DETAIL.—ARRIVAL OF MADAME MONTHOLON
IN EUROPE.—JOURNEY TO BRUSSELS.—RESIDENCE AT LIEGE, AT
CHAUDE-FONTAINE, AT SOHAN, NEAR SPA, AT ANTWERP, AT MALINES.—DEATH
OF NAPOLEON.—RETURN TO FRANCE.—CONCLUSION.

Offenbach is a handsome little town in the Grand-Duchy of Darmstadt, situate upon the Maine, two leagues from Frankfort. I settled myself there, according to my custom, in a sort of little hermitage. It was upon the bank of the river, within a step of the town.

My head-aches, under their different symptoms, had never quitted me. At Manheim I suffered very acute pains. A short time after my arrival at Offenbach, my illness suddenly assumed a character new, insupportable, and alarming. It was then that a universal indisposition, an increasing debility, commenced, which, preventing the employment of the faculties, brought with them a complete disgust of life; then also commenced that sudden trembling in my limbs and in my whole frame: those sudden visits of dimness of sight, which I might call the twinkling of existence. How often in this state, and without taking any notice of it, have I gone to bed with the thought, I had almost said the hope, of awaking no more. Madame Las Cases, in the excess of her anxiety, wished that I should give up every kind of occupation whatever, of which, in fact, I was absolutely incapable; she suppressed my letters, and wrote to the relatives of the Emperor, to apprize them of my real situation, and to prevail upon them to appoint a successor to me in the cares which I had created for myself. For a long time past, as a precaution, I myself had entreated them to join with me a person whose happiness it would have constituted, and the choice of whom would have been agreeable to the Emperor.[44] He was then with one of them; but, from one cause or another, this was not done, and necessity compelled me to break off without any provision having been made to supply the deficiency. I exhausted in vain all the aid of medicine; and, if the domestic cares, the tender solicitude, which surrounded me on every side, could have availed, my illness would have been only a blessing, from the pleasure of seeing them lavished upon me. One loves to dwell upon that which was sweet, and I could not assuredly better describe the great interest felt for me, and the nature of the recompense which the sentiments I had shewn, the efforts I had made, had obtained for me, than when I say my little hermitage has been honoured with the presence of three Queens, and, I think, on the same day. Two of them, it is true, had been deposed; but they did not the less command every where at that moment, by the elevation of their minds, the simplicity of their manners, the _éclat_ of their other qualities, a universal respect, at least, as much as at the era of their greatest splendour.

Footnote 44:

Colonel Planat, who had accompanied us as far as Plymouth, and who
had lately obtained leave to repair to St. Helena himself.

It was at Offenbach that the little colony, which Cardinal Fesch sent to St. Helena, was addressed to me on its way to that place. It consisted of a chaplain, a surgeon, a physician, and a valet de chambre; all chosen by the Cardinal. On my arrival in Europe, I had written to him, to be assured that to send a priest, capable also of writing to dictation, and of assisting a little in business, would be very agreeable to the Emperor; and I had employed his mediation to interest, for that purpose, the conscience of the Holy Father, who, in fact, demanded it of the English Ministers, who had hitherto opposed the measure, or attached to it inadmissible conditions. It was also from Offenbach, that I despatched to Longwood two charming portraits: one, the young Napoleon, painted from the life in the same year, and sent by King Jerome; the other that of the Empress Josephine, by Sain, a present from the Queen Hortense. It was mounted in a magnificent tea-caddy, of crystal. This choice of crystal was a delicate precaution of the Queen’s, who also had the mounting executed in such a manner as to render it impossible to suspect any concealed writing. The former of these two portraits reached its destination. The valet de chambre of the Emperor has since told me, that Napoleon, on perceiving it, seized it with avidity and kissed it. I, who know how reserved the Emperor was, can judge from this circumstance the whole extent of his joy and satisfaction. As to the portrait of the Empress Josephine, it never arrived at Longwood, although, by a singular contrariety, it was found, in consequence of some memorandum, to have paid the custom-house duty on its importation into England.

Towards the end of the summer, Madame Las Cases, by order of the physicians, carried me to the waters of Schwalbach, where I was an object of pity to every one. I returned without having derived any benefit from them; but a circumstance then revived my strength for an instant, and caused me to quit Germany.

All of a sudden, I learnt from the public papers the return of Madame Montholon to Europe; she had been, like myself, repulsed from England, and landed at Ostend. I was not able to resist going to seek authentic details, of which I had so long been deprived. I hastened to rejoin her, whether she should be permitted to stay in the country, or should be forced, after my example, to run up and down the highways, for in that case I should be useful to her; I had had experience.

Travelling with mystery, for I remembered too well all the ill treatment I formerly received in the Netherlands, I joined the Countess of Montholon at Brussels. Not only was she at liberty to reside there, but she had been received with the most particular respect; and a journal of the place having announced that she would be obliged to continue her route, a semi-official article refuted this news, upon this ground, especially, that the Netherlands was the _land of hospitality_. I wanted no more; Belgium appeared to me nearly as France; in the midst of the Belgians, I should think myself among my countrymen. I wrote, therefore, to Madame Las Cases to acquaint her with our good fortune, and desiring that she might hasten to come and join me. Shunning Brussels, for the same reasons which had made me leave Frankfort, I chose Liege; remembering the kind reception which I had there experienced, at the time of my unfortunate passage, eighteen months before; and I settled there, not without apprehension of some new ill luck. But I was wrong; for I must with truth and gratitude say that, during nearly two years and a half that I have since traversed the country in all directions, without any request, any solicitation, not even a previous announcement, that country, formerly so baneful to me, has ever since been the land of hospitality; never having afterwards had occasion to perceive any authority whatever, otherwise than by the tranquillity, the repose, which I enjoyed under its shade.

Influence and foreign malice had ceased; it was at this time that my son requested leave, anew, and on his own account, to return to Longwood. I have the answer of Lord Bathurst, who refused it. Subsequently, the Princess Pauline, who succeeded in obtaining leave to repair thither, wrote to me to know if my son wished to accompany her: but then, alas! it was too late.

Neither the affection nor the care of my friends at Liege, where I remained the whole winter; nor the rural situation of Chaude-Fontaine, where I spent the spring; nor the generous hospitality of the worthy and excellent proprietor of that charming spot Justlanville, who forced me to accept for the summer, at a few steps from him, the residence called Johan, at the gates of Spa and of Verviers; nor the benevolence of all his family, so numerous, so kind, so respected in the country; were able to ameliorate my condition, or fix my stay. Yet it would be difficult for me to describe, as they deserve, the extreme kindness, the touching dispositions, the sympathetic spirit, of the whole population of these countries, so prosperous, so rich, so flourishing, under the imperial reign, and which continues so grateful.

I spent my second winter at Antwerp, with some sincere friends whom I tenderly love, and whom my arrival on the expedition to Flushing, ten years before, had procured for me; and in the spring I reached Malines, without any particular motive; for I was not able to remain a long time in the same place. I stood in need of change. I was the patient who tosses and turns in his bed, seeking in vain the sweets of sleep. Twice, during the two years in Belgium, Madame Las Cases wished to take me to the south; and twice, at the very moment of setting out, imperative circumstances happened to stop us:—disappointments, however, which were to us so many real favours of fortune. But for the first of them, we should have found ourselves advanced a day’s journey within the frontier, at the very moment of a fatal and sanguinary catastrophe; and, but for the second, we should have arrived at Nice precisely at the moment of the constitutional explosion in Piedmont; and no doubt that, in both cases, and naturally enough, we should have been subjected to at least temporary inconvenience.

Meanwhile the Congress of Laybach was held, and I could not refrain from attempting new solicitations. I addressed a new letter to each of the three high Sovereigns. The following is that to the Emperor Alexander:—

“SIRE,—A new and solemn occasion presents itself for preferring to your Majesty my humble and respectful accents. I seize it anew with eagerness.

“I am not afraid of rendering myself importunate: my excuse and my pardon are in the generosity of your soul.

“Sire, to recal, at this moment, to your recollection, and to that of your high Allies, the august captive, whom you, a long time, called your brother and your friend; to seek to divert your thoughts and theirs to that victim whose cruel suffering is always present to me; this is, I know it, to make the knell of death heard amidst joy and feasting. But therein, Sire, I trust that, even in the eyes of your Majesty, I fulfil an honourable and pious duty, the performance of which must remain always sweet to me, however perilous it may be!

“Sire,—reduced to a state of infirmity and weakness which leaves me scarcely able to connect a few ideas, I follow the instinct of my heart in default of the faculties of my head, in merely repeating literally here to your Majesty the note which I presumed to address to you at Aix-la-Chapelle; for, the circumstances having remained the same, no change having since taken place in that respect, what could I do better than to place under the eyes of your Majesty the same picture, the same facts, the same reasoning, the same truths.

“Only if, in spite of that which I then thought was certain, the illustrious victim, contrary to my expectation and that of the faculty, still breathes; if he has not yet fallen, I shall dare to observe to your Majesty that this unexpected prolongation of his life, which has been to him only a continuation of torment, is perhaps, to your Majesty, a blessing from heaven, which Providence reserves for your heart and for your memory.... Ah! Sire, there is then time still!... But the precious opportunity may every moment escape from _all your power_!... And what would be then the tardy, impotent regrets which could neither appease your heart, nor restore to your memory an act magnanimous, generous—a glory of a nature the most soothing, the most moral, the most commendable in the eyes of posterity, the best understood, perhaps, with which you could have embellished your glorious life? I mean oblivion of injuries, disdain of vengeance, remembrance of old friendship; in fine, the respect due to royal majesty—to _one of the Lord’s anointed_!!!

“Sire,—since my return to Europe, separated from the society of men, a prey to hopeless sufferings originating in St. Helena itself, belonging for the future and unalterably much more to another life than to this, I ardently raise every day in my retreat my hands to the Almighty, praying that he will deign to touch the heart of your Majesty, and to enlighten it upon so essential a part of its interests and its glory.

“I am, &c.

“COUNT DE LAS CASES.”[45]

Footnote 45:

A similar letter was addressed to the other Allied Sovereigns, with
slight appropriate alterations.

How prophetic were many of these lines! Alas, they were scarcely before the eyes of the monarchs when he was no more!—He had ceased to live, to suffer!—On opening the Moniteur, I found there the fatal announcement. Though it could not surprise me, having been a long time certain to my understanding, I was not the less struck, overcome as at an unexpected event that was never to happen.

The next day I received a melancholy letter from London with circumstantial details, and conjectures for which these details might furnish matter; and this letter concluded by saying, “It was on the fifth of May, at six o’clock in the evening, at the very instant when the gun was firing at sunset, that his great soul quitted the earth.”

How strange the coincidences that sometimes happen!—When about the person of Napoleon, and under his influence, I had contracted the habit of keeping a diary, and he frequently expressed his regret that he had not done the same. “A line to assist the memory,” said he, “merely two or three indicatory words.” I had continued this practice ever since; and, as it may easily be imagined, I hastened to turn to the fifth of May, to see where I was, what I had been doing, and what had happened to me at that fatal moment. And what should I find?—_Sudden storm; shelter under a shed; awful clap of thunder._ Taking a ride, towards evening, in the country beyond Malines, the weather being delightful, there came on suddenly one of those summer storms, of such violence that I was obliged to seek shelter on horseback beneath a shed; and while in this situation there was a thunder-clap so tremendous that it seemed to be close to me. Alas! and what was passing elsewhere, at such a distance, at the same moment!—The circumstance may perhaps appear more than strange, but no doubt there are at Malines, or in its environs, naturalists or meteorologists who keep an account of the weather: it is for them to confirm or to contradict my statement.

THE DEATH OF NAPOLEON.

London: Published for Henry Colburn, March, 1836.
]

On the report of the death of Napoleon, it must, however, be said, that there was but one single cry, one selfsame sentiment in the streets, in the shops, in the public places; even the saloons shewed some feeling: the cabinets alone shewed themselves insensible, worse than insensible! But, after all, it was natural, they breathed, at length, at their ease....

During his life, in the time of his power, he had been assailed with pamphlets and libels; on his death, we were suddenly inundated with productions in his praise—a contrast, nevertheless, that gives a little relief from so much meanness of the human heart. There were every where, and from all parts, compositions in prose and in verse, paintings, portraits, pictures, lithographs, and a thousand little things more or less ingenious, proving much better than all the pomp of kings could do the sincerity, the extent, the vivacity of the sentiments which he left behind him. A clergyman on the banks of the Rhine, the place of whose residence had received some particular favour from the Emperor, assembled his parishioners, and made them pray for their old benefactor. In a large city of Belgium, a great number of citizens subscribed for a solemn funeral service, and if they abstained from the performance of it, it was much more from etiquette than in consequence of any interdict. Then these words of Napoleon, which I have often heard him repeat, were verified:—“In the course of time, nothing will be thought so fine, or strike the attention so much, as the doing of justice to me.... I shall gain ground every day in the minds of the people. My name will become the star of their rights; it will be the expression of their regrets.” And all these circumstances are verified in every country and every where. Without reckoning things of this kind, of which I am no doubt unaware, a peer of Great Britain shortly after said in open Parliament, “That the very persons who detested this great man have acknowledged that for ten centuries there had not appeared upon earth a more extraordinary character. All Europe,” added he, “has worn mourning for the hero; and those who have contributed to that great sacrifice are devoted to the execrations of the present generation as well as to those of posterity.”[46]

Footnote 46:

Speech of Lord Holland. _Pilot_ of the 3rd of August, 1822.

Two German professors, who either had always known his real character, or had been cured of their national prejudices, have erected upon their grounds a monument to his memory, with some inscriptions, indicating that, with him, fell a funereal veil over the rights of the people, and the ascendant impulse of civilization.

Our writers have defended his memory, our poets have celebrated it, and our orators, in the legislative tribunal, have proclaimed aloud the attachment which they had felt for him, or that they are honoured by the distinctions which they had received from him.

Nothing now remained for me but to return to my country. In crossing the frontier, at the end of the second emigration, I could not avoid thinking of the circumstances of my return after the first, and what a difference of sentiment distinguished them! Then I seemed, at every step, to advance amidst a hostile population; now I felt as if I was entering into my family. I soon beheld again all my companions of Longwood, and, while embracing them, I could not deny myself one melancholy reflection—we were all met again; but he for whom we had sought the fatal rock, he alone remained there! I recollected that he had told us it would be so, and many other things besides. I learned from all these eye-witnesses the details and the circumstances of the ill treatment which, since my departure, had been daily increasing; and I saw that the times which I had known had not even been the most unhappy moments.

STATUE OF NAPOLEON
ON THE COLUMN OF THE PLACE VENDÔME.

London: Published for HENRY COLBURN, December, 1835.
]

I read his last will; I there found my name, three or four times, in his own hand!—What were my emotions!—Assuredly I did not stand in need of them for my reward. For a long time I have carried it within my breast. But the remembrances, however, were dear and precious—how much more precious than millions! And yet he joined to them large sums from those of his family who were most nearly connected with him, and were dearest to him. If they ever pay them, so much the better; that will concern them hereafter more than me. I should have liked to consider myself only as a kind of depository. I even wished to anticipate them, but I found it necessary to stop: my means did not allow me to make these advances. My happiness would have been great in affording a retirement to a few civil and military veterans. In our long evenings, we should have often spoken of his battles or discoursed of his heart.

At last I received (thanks to the zealous interposition of one of the most distinguished characters of the English peerage!) the papers which had been detained from me at St. Helena: and which, in spite of all the power of the laws, I no longer reckoned upon. In the situation in which I found myself, with the sentiments with which it had inspired me, I felt myself under the indispensible obligation to assist, since I had some means to do it, in making better known him who had been so much misrepresented; and, in spite of my infirmity, I set about this work. Heaven has blessed my efforts in permitting me to reach the end, and to finish it, however ill; this I have the happiness to do at this instant. If I have succeeded in reconciling hearts, if I have destroyed prejudices, conquered prepossessions, I have obtained my dearest, my sweetest object; my mission is accomplished.

_Passy, August 15, 1823._

POSTSCRIPT.