LAST FAREWELL.—SEALING OF MY PAPERS.—DEPARTURE.
30th.—I received an early visit from Admiral Malcolm. He came to introduce me to Capt. Wright, who was to convey me to the Cape, on board the Griffin brig. The Admiral recommended me to Capt. Wright as his friend, and, in a very pleasing manner, assured me that I should have every reason to be satisfied with the endeavours that would be made to render things agreeable to me.
I looked forward to the decisive moment with my usual anxiety; for the Governor betrayed so much eagerness to induce me to remain, that I was fearful he would finally start some unforeseen obstacle to my departure.
About eleven o’clock, the Grand Marshal arrived, accompanied by the Governor and some officers. He renewed his endeavours to prevail on me to return to Longwood; but without ever expressing the positive desire of the Emperor. Knowing my sentiments so well as he did, he must have been aware that a word would have decided me. But this word he did not pronounce, and he even avoided doing so when I pressed him to it, always referring to the Emperor’s message, which he had delivered to me on the preceding day. Thus I had to defend myself against him, from whom I should have wished to receive support. His expressions of regard increased my distress, and I was perplexed between the wish of remaining and the determination of departing. If my heart dictated the one course, courage demanded the other; and I continued inflexible.
I must not forget to mention that the Grand Marshal, in the course of conversation, informed me that the Emperor had wished to see me before my departure. The Governor, however, required that an English officer should be present during our interview; and the Emperor renounced his intention, observing that I well knew he would deny himself the happiness of seeing his own wife and son on such conditions. How was I gratified by these words!...
I delivered to the Grand Marshal thirteen bills of exchange, on my banker in London, for the 4000 louis, which I had so frequently offered to the Emperor, and which the Grand Marshal now informed me he had consented to accept. This was a real consolation to me.
This business being settled, General Gourgaud, who had accompanied the Grand Marshal, was also permitted to enter and take leave of me. This new mark of interest, joined to many others which the General had shewn me during my imprisonment, failed not to produce an impression on my heart.
The Grand Marshal and the General remained with me for a considerable time, and Sir Hudson Lowe had the politeness to say that they might, if they pleased, stay and breakfast with me. He retired, taking with him all his people, with the exception of the officer on duty at Longwood, who had escorted the gentlemen to the castle. This officer was Captain Poppleton, with whose conduct we had always found reason to be perfectly satisfied. During our breakfast, over which we sat for a very long time, we certainly might, in spite of the presence of Captain Poppleton, have found means to make secret communications with each other; but we had none to make, and not a syllable of a private nature passed between us. Had I foreseen this unexpected circumstance, I might have put into my son’s hands the whole of my correspondence with Sir Hudson Lowe, and it might, by this means, have been easily transmitted to Longwood. However, on reflection, I congratulated myself on not having made any such attempt. I still distrusted Sir Hudson Lowe, and, from the endeavours he made to prevail on me to remain, he would certainly have availed himself of such a discovery as an excuse for changing all the arrangements that had been made, and issuing fresh orders.
Breakfast being ended, I was the first who had courage to rise and take farewell. I sent to request that the Governor would come and execute the final measures. I embraced my friends, and they left me. General Gourgaud, at parting, several times feelingly alluded to the little vexations which had occasionally arisen between us. I felt happy in expressing my conviction that they had been wholly occasioned by the painful circumstances in which we were placed, and that our hearts had no share in them. I cherish, with sincere gratitude, the remembrance of the kind attentions which I received from General Gourgaud, during the latter period of my residence at St. Helena.[[28]]
Sir Hudson Lowe, on his return, seeing the Grand Marshal and General Gourgaud going out, said to me significantly, and with an appearance of embarrassment and vexation, “So you do not intend to return to Longwood? It may be presumed you have good reasons for refusing to do so.” A bow was my only reply; and I begged that the Governor would immediately proceed to seal up the papers, the only thing that now remained to be done. Some days previously, I had demanded that an authentic inventory of my papers should be made out: this was done; and I obtained a copy of it, signed by Sir Hudson Lowe. All that was now to be done was to affix the seals. The Governor delayed this formality until the last moment, and he concluded it in a way perfectly characteristic of his disposition. He told me, in very fair words, but with an appearance of constraint, that, out of respect for the Emperor, as well as from personal consideration for me, he would willingly permit me to affix my seal to the papers, provided I would consent that he should break it, during my absence, if he thought necessary. I smiled at this proposal, and declined it; upon which he walked with hasty strides up and down the room for some time, and then, as if coming to a sudden determination, he exclaimed, “I will take the whole upon myself; I will dispense with your seal.” He called in the Government Secretary, and the seals of the island were affixed to the papers in my presence. I requested that he would furnish me with a declaration of his refusal to permit me to[to] seal them with my arms, or the singular condition he had attached to my doing so. This was a new subject of hesitation; but the point was at length settled, by the Governor furnishing me with a declaration, in the following terms:—
DECLARATION OF SIR HUDSON LOWE TO COUNT
DE LAS CASES.
“In consequence of what was stated in the Governor’s decision relative to the affair of Count de Las Cases, a great number of the Count’s papers are now, at the moment of his departure from the island, detained.
“The Governor, whose special duty it is to suffer no papers whatever coming from Longwood to leave the island, without being previously examined, has, however, for private reasons, hitherto abstained from noticing all that were sent by Count Las Cases. The Governor has determined that the papers belonging to the Count, which have been detained (and of which Sir Hudson Lowe knows only the general tenour), shall be put into two separate packets, and deposited in the treasury of the island, until orders be received from Government respecting them.
“Count de Las Cases may affix his seal to each of these packets, with the understanding that the seal may be broken, either in case it should be necessary to convey the packets from the island, in conformity with orders from Government; or in case the interest of the service should require the packets to be opened.
“Thus, the affixing of this seal is merely a moral guarantee, which the Governor offers to Count Las Cases for his own satisfaction, to afford him the assurance of the packets not being opened, except for one of the urgent reasons above specified.
“If, under these circumstances, Count Las Cases should decline affixing his seals to the packets, or refuse to accede to the condition on which the affixing of his seal is permitted, the Governor, who cannot permit any sealed packet, or any papers whatever, coming from Longwood, to pass from his hands, without examination, considers as necessary every precaution calculated to assure his Government that he has adopted proper measures for the security of the papers that are detained, until he shall receive orders respecting them.
“Count Las Cases having refused to affix his seal on the conditions above mentioned, the papers, divided into two distinct packets, have been deposited in two boxes, sealed with the seals of the Government and the Island.
(Signed) “H. LOWE.”
“Dec. 31, 1816.”[“Dec. 31, 1816.”]
All business being now settled between us, Sir Hudson Lowe, by a characteristic turn of behaviour, which he had oftener than once exhibited since I had been his prisoner, either from motives of civility or calculation, immediately wrote for me several letters of introduction to his private friends at the Cape, who, he assured me, would prove very agreeable to me. I had not the courage to refuse these letters, such was the sincerity with which they appeared to be offered. At length, the long looked-for moment of departure arrived. The Governor accompanied me to the gate of the castle, and ordered all his officers to attend me to the place of embarkation; this, he said, was intended as a mark of respect. I eagerly jumped into the boat which was in readiness to receive me. I crossed the port, and passed near a vessel which had just arrived from the Cape, on board of which, to my surprise, I observed the Pole and the three servants, who had been sent away from us, several months before, and who were now on their way to Europe. They saluted me by gestures as I passed, and I need not say how much I was astonished to see them. One of these individuals was the bearer of the only document which escaped from the island, namely, the letter on the subject of the allied Commissioners. I doubted not but the discovery that had been made with respect to my servant would furnish the Governor with an excuse for searching those persons, who were far from suspecting such a thing. Fortunately, however, no search took place, and the faithful Santini had the merit of being the first to convey to Europe any authentic account of Longwood.
At length I got fairly on board the brig; she weighed anchor; and I thought my last wishes accomplished. But these vain illusions were destined to be cruelly destroyed; and my ultimate experience of the hearts of certain men proved that all the hopes I had formed were but vain chimeras.... How could I so far deceive myself as to rely on the sensibility of those very men, who, in defiance of all law, had pronounced the sentence and ordered the execution?—Why did I not stay to administer domestic consolation, rather than dream of rendering remote services? I might have continued my daily attentions for some time longer, and have obtained some additional marks of interest: and when the fatal moment arrived, I should have had my share in the general grief. I might have contributed to assuage the anguish of Napoleon’s last moments; and have helped to close his eyes!... But no!... Perhaps the effect of the climate operating on my feeble state of health, would soon have hurried me from this world. I should, probably, not have lived to witness the sad event.... I should have been spared the grief that now presses upon my heart.... I should not have had to struggle with the cruel infirmities brought from my place of exile. My ashes would there have reposed in peace; and thus to have closed my life might have been looked upon as an additional favour of my happy star, or the last blessing of Heaven!
This perhaps ought to be the conclusion of my Journal since I am now removed from St. Helena, and can no longer record the words of the Emperor. However, the following pages are so intimately connected with what concerns Napoleon that I am convinced I need offer no apology for continuing.
PASSAGE FROM ST. HELENA TO THE CAPE, A SPACE
OF EIGHTEEN DAYS.—DETAILS, &C.
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,[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,[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[“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.
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[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.