Chapter VII: Part 7

Amongst other plans for killing the time, and lightening the tedium of a sea passage to the refugees, we bethought us of getting up a play. This was managed by one of the lieutenants of marines, a fellow of great taste, and some one or two of the midshipmen, who pretended to skill in the Shakespearian art. What the piece was I do not recollect, but when it was announced to the Emperor, by Captain Maitland, and the immortal honour of his imperial presence begged, for a few minutes, he laughed very heartily, consented instantly; and turning to Lady Bertrand, told her that she must stand his interpreter. The stage was fitted up between decks, more, I am afraid, in ship-shape than theatrical style; and, sure enough, Napoleon and his whole suite attended. He was much amused with those who took the female parts, which, by the way, was the most smooth-chinned of our young gentlemen, remarking that they were rather a little Dutch built for fine ladies; and, after good-naturedly sitting for nearly twenty minutes, he rose, smiled to the actors, and retired. I mention these circumstances, by way of showing the last glimpses of sunshine that enlivened the exile's closing scene.

On the 23rd, we made the land; and, on the 24th, at seven P.M., we came to an anchor in Torbay, when the first lieutenant was immediately put on shore, with orders to proceed by land to Plymouth, with dispatches for Lord Keith, at that time admiral on the Plymouth station.

I happened to be midshipman of the boat, which conveyed the first lieutenant on shore; and no sooner had we got clear of him, than I was taken prisoner by some twenty young ladies, marched off to a fine house in the little town, regaled with tea and clouted cream, and bored with five thousand questions about Napoleon, the ridiculousness of which I have often laughed at since. "What like was he--was he really a man? Were his hands and clothes all over blood when he came on board? Was it true that he had killed three horses in riding from Waterloo to the Bellerophon? Were we not all frightened for him? Was his voice like thunder? Could I possibly get them a sight of the monster, just that they might be able to say they had seen him?" etc. etc. I assured those inquisitive nymphs, that the reports they had heard were all nonsense; that the Emperor was not only a man, but a very handsome man too; young withal, had no more blood upon his hands or clothes than was now upon their pure white dresses; that if by chance they got a look of him at the gangway, they would fall in love with him directly; that so far from his hands being red with blood, they were as small, white, and soft as their own charming fingers, and his voice, instead of resembling thunder, was as sweet and musical as their own. This account of the Emperor's beauty perfectly astonished the recluses of Torbay; some misbelieved altogether, while the curiosity of others was excited beyond all bounds. A general proposition was now made, that I should bundle them, like live cattle, into my little cutter, and take them all on board to gratify their curiosity at once. This was quite contrary to orders. Not a soul was allowed to come on board the ship, and I had to plead a thousand excuses for my want of gallantry, in not complying with the very natural wish of my young companions. As far as I was concerned, resistance was vain; I was again seized, hurried down to the boat, and had the pleasure of seeing it filled to cramming with the charmers of Torbay. This was a devil of a mess;--I might as well have gone into the mouth of a cannon, as have carried such a cargo alongside the ship,--the thing was impossible. So I had nothing for it, but to call aside the boat's crew, and whisper to them to use gentle violence with my young boarders, and set them down on shore. This was glorious fun to Jack;--to work they fell, and in the midst of screams, laughter, and a few d----n my eyes, ma'am, don't kick so hard, on the part of the Bellerophons, we had our nymphs safely deposited on terra firma, and were off in a trice, enjoying the general discomfiture of the poor ladies, who were equally laughed at by the lookers-on, on shore.... We left Torbay, on the 26th July at 4 A.M., and at 4 in the evening came to an anchor in Plymouth Sound, just within the breakwater, then only beginning to shew its head above water at low tide. It has since, I am told, been made a splendid affair; but it then only afforded footing for a few gazers from the shore, who perched themselves upon it to watch the cabin-windows of the Bellerophon, in hopes of getting a glimpse of the Emperor.

* * * * *

The signal for the Emperor's being on deck was the officers uncovering. No sooner was this ceremony noticed, than the rush from without took place, and the screaming and swearing commenced, which was very considerably heightened upon one occasion by a plan of some of our wise-headed young gentlemen. Being in want of amusement, they bethought them of priming the fire engine, which happened to be standing on the poop, and after clapping a relay of hands ready to ply it to advantage, we uncovered, and waited the approach of the boats. No sooner were they within reach, than off went the water-spout, which fell "alike on the just and the unjust," for both the dockyard men and the spectators who came within its compass got a good ducking. This prank created an infernal confusion, and our trick having been twigged by the first lieutenant, the chief actors in this notable exploit were ordered up to the mast-head to enjoy their frolic for a few hours, which evidently much gratified the unfortunate sufferers from the effects of the operation.

* * * * *

Maitland, knowing how he stood with "the powers that be," was determined not to commit himself by accepting of any present of value from Napoleon, as he knew it would be directly made a handle of to injure his character as a British officer. He, therefore, I believe, refused to accept of a gold snuff-box tendered him by the Emperor as a mark of his esteem, but he did not refuse the offer of a few dozens of French wine, as a present to Mrs Maitland, who had been personally introduced to Napoleon, as far as introduction was possible, that is, she had been permitted to come within a foot or two of the ship, and Napoleon most condescendingly stepped to the gangway, smiled and bowed to her. Mrs Maitland was a charming little woman in those days,--alas! we are all getting old now,--a daughter of green Erin, and Napoleon seemed greatly pleased with her appearance, hence the offer of this trifling present as a token of respect. The captain took it on shore in the gig, and no sooner had she struck the beach than the custom-house officers jumped on board, and made a seizure of it, hauled the boat up upon the beach, and clapped his Majesty's broad arrow upon her, that fatal mark indicative of being in "the hands of the Philistines" of the revenue. I shall never forget Maitland's countenance when he came on board after this ridiculous and provoking affair. Being deprived of his own boat by "the land-sharks," he was obliged to hire a shore boat to bring off himself and his boat's crew, and she was nearly alongside before the first lieutenant discovered that there was a naval officer in her, and on taking a look with his glass, he exclaimed, "Good God! there is the captain coming off in a shore boat." The side was manned, and when Maitland stepped on board, he turned to Mott with a most rueful countenance, remarking, "they have seized the wine." This was petty work, and to make the thing more provoking, they had poor Maitland stuck up next day in the Plymothian journals as having been detected in the act of conveying wine and other presents on shore, received from Napoleon. What was the fate of the wine, I do not know, but the gig, of course, was restored immediately, and I should suppose the wine also, considering the shameful nature of the seizure.

On the 4th of August we left Plymouth Sound in company with the Tonnant, bearing the flag of Admiral Lord Keith, and on the 6th we came to an anchor off Berryhead, there to wait the arrival of the Northumberland, which was hourly expected. She made her appearance in the course of the day, and after due salutes from both admiral's ships, in which noisy greeting we of course joined, for we are very polite at sea, in our own thundering way, she took up her station close by us.

Towards evening Lord Keith came on board of us, and had a long personal interview with Napoleon in the cabin, which we may judge was not of the pleasantest nature. From some intemperate threat of Savary, I believe, who had declared that he would not allow his master to leave the Bellerophon alive, to go into such wretched captivity, it was judged proper to deprive the refugees of their arms. A good many swords, and several brace of pistols, marked with a large silver N. at the butt end, were brought down to the gun-room, where they remained for some hours. Three of the swords belonged to Napoleon, and two of them were pointed out to us as those he wore at Marengo and Austerlitz.

I never in my life felt such a strong inclination to lay my hands on what was not my own. A sword I durst not think of, but could I have got a brace of pistols, or even one solitary pistol, belonging to Napoleon, I would have thought myself the happiest man alive; but it would not do, detection was certain, and with bitter vexation I saw them carried out of the gun-room. Now, reader, do you think this would have been a pardonable theft? Their value was nothing in my eyes; it was a relic of the great man I wanted, and I cared not what it was, or how I came by it; therefore, had I been able to secure a pistol, my conscience would never have smote me with having done wrong; and I am sure, could the Emperor have known with what a pure spirit of devotion I meant to commit the theft, he would have ordered me a brace instantly.

It was this night settled that our surgeon, Barry O'Meara, who afterwards became so conspicuous for his spirited defence of his patient against the tyranny of Sir Hudson Lowe (I hate to write that man's name,) should follow Napoleon to St Helena in the character of surgeon, his own, who looked a poor creature, and was continually sea-sick while on board, having declined, I believe, to accompany him farther, and the 7th was appointed for Napoleon leaving the ship.

The 7th came; it was a dull cloudy sunless day, and every countenance was overcast with gloom. We had not seen the Emperor for a week, and we were all anxious to observe the change that the horrible tidings of his destination had made upon him. Lord Keith, Admiral Cockburn, and Captain Ross, came on board about eleven o'clock; and it was intimated to Napoleon, that they were ready to conduct him on board the Northumberland. A general's guard of marines was drawn up on the quarter-deck, to receive him as he came out of the cabin; while part of his suite, and we officers, were ranged about, anxiously waiting the appearance of the future exile of St Helena.

Napoleon was long of attending to the intimation of the Admiral's; and upon Cockburn's becoming impatient, and remarking to old Lord Keith that he should be put in mind, Keith replied, "No, no, much greater men than either you or I have waited longer for him before now; let him take his time, let him take his time." This was nobly said of the fine old Scotchman; and although Cockburn and I are blood relations, and I have a particular penchant for my lineage, I cannot help remarking that his manner denoted a great want of feeling. I suppose he was pitched upon by Castlereagh as a proper tool to execute his harsh commands.

At length Napoleon appeared, but oh, how sadly changed from the time we had last seen him on deck. Though quite plain, he was scrupulously cleanly in his person and dress, but that had been forgot, his clothes were ill put on, his beard unshaved, and his countenance pale and haggard. There was a want of firmness in his gait; his brow was overcast, and his whole visage bespoke the deepest melancholy; and it needed but a glance to convince the most careless observer that Napoleon considered himself a doomed man. In this trying hour, however, he lost not his courtesy or presence of mind; instinctively he raised his hat to the guard of marines, when they presented arms as he passed, slightly inclined his head, and even smiled to us officers as he passed through us, returned the salute of the admirals with calm dignity, and, walking up to Captain Maitland, addressed him with great eagerness for nearly ten minutes.

How distinct is every feature, every trait, every line of that majestic countenance in my mind's eye at this moment, now that two-and-twenty years have passed away; but who could witness such a scene and ever forget it? The Romans said that a "great man struggling with adversity was a sight that the gods looked on with pleasure." Here, indeed, was adversity, and here was true greatness struggling against it; but to a mere mortal it was a heart-rending sight. The ship's deck looked like a place of execution, and we only wanted the headsman, his block, and his axe, to complete the scene.

The purport of his speech to Captain Maitland, was thanking _him_, his officers, and ship's company, for the polite attention he had received while on board of the Bellerophon, which he should ever hold in kind remembrance. Something more he would have said after the first pause, and a feeling of deep emotion laboured in his face, and swelled his breast, he looked earnestly in Maitland's face for a moment, as if he was about to renew his speech, but utterance seemed denied; and, slightly moving his hat in salutation, he turned to Savary and L'Allemand, who were not allowed to accompany him to St Helena, and spoke to them for a few minutes.

What a horrid gloom overhung the ship: had his execution been about to take place there could not have prevailed a more dead silence, so much so, that had a pin fallen from one of the tops on the deck, I am convinced it would have been heard; and to any one who has known the general buzz of one of our seventy-fours, even at the quietest hour, it is a proof how deeply the attention of every man on board must have been riveted. Before leaving the ship he turned to us on the quarter-deck, once more waved his hand in token of adieu, took hold of the man-ropes, and walked down the side, taking his seat in the Northumberland's barge between Lord Keith and Admiral Cockburn.

Even in this hour of hopeless misery, he lost not sight of that indescribable charm by which he won the hearts of men. On looking back to the ship he saw every head, that could get stuck out of a port, gazing after him; even the rough countenances of the men bespoke a sympathy for his cruel fate, and, apparently conscious of their feelings, the exiled chief again lifted his hat, and inclined his head to the gazing ship's company.

THE END.

PRINTED BY WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS.