LETTER TO THE PRINCE REGENT OF ENGLAND.
“Royal Highness,—The sport of the political tempest, wandering without a home, an unfortunate foreigner presumes confidently to appeal to your royal heart.
“Twice in the course of my life, I have had the misfortune to leave my country; on both occasions contrary to my interests, and with the intention of fulfilling great and noble duties. During my first exile, my abode in England assuaged the sorrows of my youth, and I trusted that England would again afford me an asylum in which I might enjoy a little tranquillity in my old age. However I have reason to apprehend that I shall be driven thence. Why should I be visited with this severity? Can it be on account of the place whence I came, the attentions which I took pleasure in administering there, and the tender sentiments which I shall ever entertain towards the individual from whom I am now separated? But, Prince, at Longwood I was practising a great and singular virtue; I was supporting, with my worthy companions, the honour of those who surround the thrones of monarchs. After the example we have presented, it cannot henceforth be said that love and fidelity are never shewn to unfortunate sovereigns.
“Should such conduct occasion me to be persecuted and banished from the asylum I seek? Surely he, who was always great, when he wrote for me on the rock of adversity, these words so gratifying to my heart: Whether you return to France, or go elsewhere, always boast of the fidelity you have shewn to me:—surely he, I say, has given me a right and title to the regard of kings. Prince! I throw myself on your royal protection.
“During my daily intercourse and conversations with him who once ruled the world, and filled the universe with his name, I conceived and executed the intention of writing down daily all that I saw of him, and all that I heard him say.
“This Journal, which includes an interval of eighteen months, and which is unique in its kind, but as yet incomplete, incorrect, undetermined, and unknown to all, even to the august individual to whom it related,—has been taken from me, and detained at St. Helena. Prince, I also place it under your royal protection, and I venture to entreat that you will receive it into your care, for the sake of justice, truth and history.
“If your Royal Highness should in your goodness deign to afford me your august protection, I shall hasten to seek, in England, an asylum where I may tranquilly recollect and deplore.
“I am, with the most profound respect,
“COUNT LAS CASES.”
I received in answer, from Lord Charles Somerset, the permission I had solicited for my son to proceed to Europe by the first opportunity. I wished my son to avail himself of this permission. I urged and even commanded him to do so; but he positively refused. On this subject he wrote a letter to the Governor, which was so gratifying to my feelings, and reflected so much honour on his own heart, that I cannot forbear transcribing it. It was as follows:—
“My Lord,—My father has just communicated to me the permission you grant me to return to Europe. He has entreated and commanded me to accept it.
“I cannot, my Lord, avail myself of your indulgence, and I presume to disobey my father. Bodily afflictions are nothing; the sufferings of the heart alone are hard to be endured. I have been deprived of my mother, and I every moment deplore my separation from her; yet I will never forsake my father in a foreign country, and in a situation so different from all that he has been accustomed to. My health is an object of no importance to me. I shall be happy if I can afford any consolation to my father, and alleviate, by sharing, the miseries which have long been accumulating upon him.
“I prefer dying by his side to living at a distance from him. I am too proud of his distinguished virtues, and too eager to imitate his example, to part from him for a moment. I am ready to die here, since it must be so: there will be two victims instead of one.
“I thank you, my Lord, with all my heart, for your kind intentions respecting me. How grateful should I have been, how should I have blessed you, had you extended them to my father!
“I have the honour to be,” &c.
This letter had, doubtless, been read by the family of Lord Charles Somerset, and produced those favourable sentiments which it was naturally calculated to inspire. On the following day, when the young Doctor called to see us, I wished to draw him aside for the purpose of requesting that he would exert his professional influence over my son to induce him to depart. But, instead of listening to me, he hastened to Emanuel’s chamber, and embracing him, expressed his approval of his conduct, observing that he should not have respected him had he acted otherwise. Conducting him to the window, he introduced him to two ladies, whom he had left in their carriage, and mutual salutation passed between them. These ladies were the two daughters of Lord Charles Somerset, who had this morning themselves brought the Doctor as far as the court yard fronting our prison, probably for the purpose of satisfying the interest and curiosity which my son’s letter had excited.
Our situation continued to be most deplorable. We were confined in a sort of dungeon: our windows without curtains, overlooked a court-yard covered with scorching sand. Though it was now the month of January, we experienced in this hemisphere the burning heat of summer. We were almost suffocated.
We were still subject to the same restrictions and the same vexations, and the same officers presided at breakfast and dinner. This last circumstance was a particular annoyance to me. I determined to avoid it, and I therefore kept my bed and had my meals brought to me there: being determined not to leave my chamber until I should be released from the torments that surrounded me. I was besides, very unwell from pains in my stomach; I was occasionally feverish, and in short, my health was totally deranged. The officer on duty informed me, it is true, that he had orders to conduct me into the town and even the environs, whenever I should express a wish to that effect. I thanked him, and though I could not myself profit by this favour, I accepted it for my son.
Meanwhile, nobody came near me. Whether it was that the officer, knowing me to be unwell, thought he was rendering me service, or whether he was acting in[in] in conformity with orders, I know not: but he repulsed all who attempted to approach me. This gave rise to a curious circumstance. Our chamber-door led into a corridor, along which we were permitted to walk: having one day proceeded to the end of it, I found, contrary to custom, a little door open, leading to a steep staircase. Curiosity induced me to ascend, and I found myself on the platform of the fort, whence I could command a view of Cape Town and the boundless ocean. Struck with the beauty of the spectacle, I became so wrapped in the meditations to which it gave rise, that two hours elapsed ere I thought of returning. By chance I had come out while my son was taking a walk with our officer. In the interim, the sentinel had been changed, and when I presented myself at the door leading to our apartments, the soldier placed his musket across it, and rudely refused to admit me. The more I insisted on being admitted, the more angrily he expressed his determination to exclude me. This appeared to me odd enough, but I thought it still more droll when I found it necessary to descend the staircase, pass through the court-yards to the outer guardhouse, and obtain entrance to my prison by main force. The officer on duty, alarmed at sight of me, ran furiously to the sentinel who was posted on the outside of our apartments, and a violent altercation ensued between them. The officer severely reprimanded the man, and threatened to have him punished. The soldier, with his eyes starting out of his head, declared that he had discharged his duty; and I, who remained a tranquil spectator, could not forbear smiling at this curious dispute, the cause of which no one could explain but myself. However, peace was soon established at the expense of the captive. I was again placed under confinement, and order was restored in the fort.
The only stranger I saw was Doctor Barry, who frequently visited me. I found his company very agreeable. He constantly recommended me to take care of my health. He said he could guess the seat of my disorder, and regretted that it was out of his power to prescribe any remedy for me. I assured him that the greatest favour he could confer on me would be to procure a person who could read to me and write from my dictation. This I had been vainly soliciting since my arrival, for the state of my eyes precluded all occupation, and my son was strictly enjoined to abstain from all sedentary employment. I therefore laboured under an intolerable depression of spirits, in being thus wholly abandoned to my melancholy thoughts.
The Doctor informed me that the Governor was about to depart, to make a tour over the colony, and that he would be absent about three months. This information precluded the hope of any change in my condition. I determined to make a last attempt, not that I counted on its success, but only because I wished to leave nothing untried; for the horrible and truly discourteous way in which I had been treated astonished me less than it was calculated to do. I was prepared for it. At St. Helena, we had been repeatedly informed that Lord Charles Somerset was our personal enemy, and, on my arrival at the Cape, when I made inquiries respecting his character and the sort of reception I was likely to experience, I was told that nothing but a dog or a horse could claim his attention. Subsequently, in the solitude of my prison, I often thought to myself that, being neither a dog nor a horse, I might despair of obtaining any notice from the Governor. I shall soon show how little Lord Charles Somerset deserved these reflections.
Profiting by a passage in his letter, in which he expressed a wish to render my stay at the Cape as agreeable as possible, I took the opportunity in my next letter candidly to communicate to him my thoughts respecting the treatment I experienced. My letter was as follows:—
“My Lord,—I learn that your Excellency is on the eve of leaving Cape Town, and that you will be absent for a considerable time: this induces me, with extreme repugnance, to enter upon a disagreeable subject, and to call your Excellency’s attention to a few domestic details. I think it my duty to do this, for otherwise, should any public expression of dissatisfaction hereafter escape me, I might justly incur the reproach of having addressed[addressed] no complaint to your Excellency.
“But before I enter on the subject, my Lord, that you may not regard as ridiculous the facts which I am about to state: and also to afford you a just idea of the circumstances in which I am placed, of which I think it very probable your Excellency is ignorant, permit me to observe, with all the embarrassment of one who is obliged to introduce himself, that there is no individual here with whom I may not, and ought not naturally and without reserve to place myself on a level in every respect whatever. Finally, I neither request, nor solicit any indulgence nor favour relative to my personal wants, wishing in this respect to depend entirely on my own resources[resources].
“These two points being fixed and determined, I proceed to that passage in your letter in which you have the goodness to express your wish of rendering my stay here as agreeable as possible. On this subject, I must acquaint your Excellency that I am imprisoned in a kind of dungeon, in which it will be difficult for me much longer to support existence.
“My son and I, who are both unwell, are, in this extremely hot weather, lodged in a very small chamber, where we breathe unwholesome air, and have scarcely room to move, for our beds nearly fill it. The scorching rays of the sun, darting on a window without curtains, compel me to pass the day in bed. There is, it is true, another adjoining apartment of the same kind; but it is a dining room, where two of your officers do the honours of the table. If I occasionally enter this room, I count every moment I spend in it. There is a third room, which is occupied by the officer who is appointed as our guard, and through which I must pass, however unpleasant to me, on every indispensable occasion.
“Whatever may be the hardships and miseries of such a situation, I have been a sailor, I have been a soldier, and what is more, I am a man, and I can in silence endure this and even more. I speak here, only in answer to the obliging paragraph in your letter. There is no fire in our apartments; so that if we should require warm water, on account of my son’s health or any transient wants, we must either do without it, or have recourse to the charity of our neighbours. The Doctor has in vain prescribed the use of the bath for my son; no water can be obtained for this purpose. If I feel a wish to procure any little thing at my own expense, I am informed that your Excellency has ordered every thing to be provided for me; and thus, from motives of delicacy I repress my wish, and abstain from gratifying it.
“I spare your Excellency a multitude of details, which are equally beneath your notice and mine. When the hour of dinner arrives, two officers, who, I feel pleasure in acknowledging, treat me with great politeness and respect, preside at the table. But it is a singular fact, though a very certain one, that even their attentions add to my discomfort, by obliging me to endeavour to return them in a suitable way, though it would be far more natural and desirable for me to allow my thoughts to wander far from the spot in which I am now situated. Besides, our habits and manners are totally different. I find myself under the necessity of sitting for several hours at table, when I should not from choice sit for half an hour. All conversation must be disagreeable to me, unless it be on the subject which now wholly occupies my thoughts. Your Excellency has too much judgment not to perceive that the situation in which I am placed is an absolute torment to me. My melancholy is, doubtless, as irksome to my table companions as their gaiety is annoying to me. Perfect solitude is alone agreeable to me; and, therefore, I have completely withdrawn from the dinner-table, and I take my meals in bed.
“Where is the necessity for an officer being attached to my person? I presume to ask your Excellency this question, while at the same time I repeat, with pleasure, that I cannot sufficiently express my satisfaction with the one whom you have appointed to attend me. Is it for the purpose of watching me? Surely the sentinel posted at my door is sufficient for that purpose. Can it be intended as a mark of respect, for the sake of transmitting any wish that I may express? But I have no wish. Can it be to give the sanction of authority to any visits I may receive? I can receive none, except such as are permitted by authority. Is it for the purposes of accompanying me in my walks? I will never consent to stir a step, if I must be a trouble to an officer. I shall not therefore go abroad.
“Since, my Lord, you are determined that I shall remain your prisoner, what objection can you have to placing me in a house in the town, and permitting me to engage, at my own expense, any valet, cook, &c. that may suit me, with the precautions that you may think proper to adopt. When thus left to myself, your Excellency might provide as you pleased for my security. You would hear no more of me. If I felt a wish to go out in a carriage, or otherwise, I could write to the officer: I know his obliging disposition, and my wish would be granted. I have mentioned a house in the town, my Lord, because the state of my son’s health, which requires constant, and often sudden, medical attendance, renders a residence in the country objectionable.
“Such are the details to which I feel myself compelled to call your Excellency’s attention. I hope that they may be less disagreeable and painful to you than they are to me.
“I have the honour to be,” &c.
This letter was, from its nature, calculated to lead to a decisive result. I received an immediate answer. The Adjutant General came to inform me, in the name of the Governor—1st. That he had given orders that a separate chamber should be assigned to my son on the following day;—2d. That the officers should no longer take their meals with us;—3d. That a more convenient residence was preparing for us; and, finally, that if I had any other wish to express, endeavours would be made to comply with it.
Such was the effect of my letter. It was successful beyond my hopes, and I congratulated myself on having written it, because it afforded me the opportunity of discovering traits in the character of Lord Charles Somerset of which I had previously no idea. But this was not all.—Early on the following morning, the Governor’s first Aide-de-camp wrote to acquaint me that he had a communication to make to me on the part of his Excellency, and he wished me to appoint the hour at which it would be convenient for me to receive him. On the receipt of my answer he came, and informed me that the Governor had that morning left town, to make a tour of three months. His Excellency had expressed himself very sorry to learn that I had been so exceedingly[exceedingly] unwell, and begged that I would do him the justice to believe that he was entirely ignorant of the fact. The Aide-de-camp was instructed to tell me that Lord Charles Somerset had nothing more at heart than to render my abode at the Cape as agreeable as it could be; and he offered me the use of his country residence, the servants, and every thing belonging to it. He begged that I would take possession of it, repeating that, if I had any other wish, I need only name it, and it would be complied with. I accepted, without hesitation, the offer of the change of residence, and the Aide-de-camp went to give the necessary orders for our immediate removal.
I now discovered how greatly the Governor’s character had been misrepresented to me. I found that Lord Charles Somerset possessed the grace and courtesy of manners requisite for his high rank. How much men differ from one another! At St. Helena, such a letter as I had written would probably have had the effect of doubly rivetting my chains; but here it procured for me the offer of a palace. The fact is in itself sufficient to characterize the two authorities with whom I have had to treat. Lord Charles Somerset was, indeed, far from meriting the reports I had heard respecting him. Almost every man has his detractors; and those who have high functions to discharge seldom escape the tongue of calumny. Lord Charles, as I had subsequently the opportunity of ascertaining, is a man distinguished for noble and generous feeling, moral principle, piety, and perfect benevolence. None of the vexations by which I had been so greatly harassed proceeded from him, but from subordinate agents, who executed orders and influenced decisions. For the persons in authority here, who were the slaves of vulgar national prejudice, hated us as Frenchmen, and esteemed themselves happy in subjecting us to all the severity which it was in their power to inflict.
If I had enjoyed the advantage of personal intercourse with the Governor, in which, I have reason to believe, there would have been no difficulty, I doubt not that, in pleading my cause with Lord Charles Somerset, I should have obtained all I demanded, because my demands were perfectly just; but my situation withheld me from seeking access to him, and it seemed to be the wish of those about him to prevent him from coming near me. He several times announced his intention of seeing me, it is true, but this intention was never fulfilled.
REMOVAL TO NEWLANDS, THE GOVERNOR’S COUNTRY
RESIDENCE.—DETAILS.
From Jan. 29th to April 5th.—Early this morning, precisely at the hour that had been appointed, the Governor’s Aide-de-camp drove up to the door of our prison in a carriage and four. We set out; and in less than three quarters of an hour we reached Newlands, the Governor’s country house, which might be accounted a pleasant residence even in Europe. I could easily perceive that several years had elapsed since the place had first received its name, for it was surrounded by lofty trees and thick groves: many of the fruit-trees were in full bearing.
One of the Governor’s Aides-de-camp placed us in possession, with all due form and with the most studied politeness. He conducted me over the grounds, and pointed out to me every thing worthy of notice, without mentioning a word about limits or restrictions. He took an opportunity of adroitly hinting to me that the soldiers whom I saw posted about were merely the Governor’s ordinary guards, and had received none but their usual orders. He added that I might consider myself at home, as every thing would be done under my own direction. He then took his leave.
When left to ourselves in this delightful place, we felt that we had been suddenly removed from a prison to a Paradise. The elegantly furnished apartments, the dovecots in the vicinity of the house, the birds of every kind that inhabited the grounds, the numerous flower-beds, groves, and delightful walks, and the silence and solitude that prevailed—all presented a somewhat magical effect, and reminded us of Zemire and Azor.
We had the use of the whole house, in which all the furniture remained just as it had been left by the Governor’s family; not an article having been removed. My son, on opening a colour-box, found an unfinished drawing, by one of the daughters of Lord Charles Somerset. It was a portrait of the revered object whose fate we deplore; for where is his image not to be found? Beside the drawing lay the copy from which it had been taken. It was a wretched sketch; a sort of caricature likeness of the Emperor, which had been made on board the Northumberland. This thing seemed to haunt us wherever we went, and we always destroyed it with the ardent zeal of missionaries breaking the images of false gods. In the impulse of the moment my son made his poetical debut, by writing the following lines beneath Miss Somerset’s unfinished drawing:—--
Sous vos doigts élégans tout devrait s’embellir;
C’est aux belles surtout à peindre le courage:
Du héros des héros, du Mars de l’avenir,
Comment avez-vous pu défigurer l’image?
I placed beside the drawing a small medal, which afforded a more faithful representation of Napoleon. We then shut up the box, pleased with our trick, and enjoying, in anticipation, Miss Somerset’s surprise when she should one day read, and we hoped without anger, the censure which we had presumed to pronounce upon her drawing.
The Governor had carried his attention so far as to send from town a person to act as Steward at Newlands, to receive from me daily orders for provisions; and I was given to understand that I might be supplied profusely with whatever I wished for. But I had adopted Spartan manners, and I desired to be supplied merely with necessaries. As to the steward, I changed his occupation, and made him my reader; in which capacity I found him a most valuable acquisition. By chance this person proved to be a relative of the only inhabitant of St. Helena with whom I had formed acquaintance. He was the nephew of the worthy Amphitryon, our good host of the Briars, for whom I entertain a sincere regard.
The Aide-de-camp visited us regularly, having received special instructions to see that we wanted for nothing. I begged that he would present my thanks and acknowledgments to Lord Charles Somerset, for the delicate way in which he sought to disguise our captivity. “But it was all one,” I informed him; “since, in spite of ourselves, we must deplore our absence from St. Helena and Europe.”
Our departure from prison and removal to Newlands produced quite a revolution in our condition. We received visits from many individuals, who expressed themselves anxious to see us. General Hall, who acted as the Governor’s deputy during his absence, came, accompanied by his wife, a lady of very pleasing person and manners, and who, moreover, spoke French exceedingly well. Her husband had been eleven years a prisoner in France. Mrs. Hall had proceeded thither to join him, in spite of the severe restrictions which then existed between the two countries; and, if I recollect rightly, she ventured across the Channel in an open boat. Both General and Mrs. Hall were intimate with many of my friends in Paris. General Hall, who is a frank and honourable man, observed that he should feel happy in repaying me, without regard to difference of opinion, for all the kind treatment he had generously experienced in France; and he kept his word.
I was also visited by Colonel Ware, whose wife has a sister married to one of the members of the present English Ministry. Colonel Ware resided at a short distance from Newlands, and he came, he said, to offer me his services as a good neighbour; and, indeed, I found him an extremely agreeable one, from his kind and unremitting attentions to me. Finally, a lady, of the highest distinction in every respect, who at that time accidentally happened to be in the colony, had the charity several times to visit the captive. This was an unlooked-for happiness; for the act of kindness thus conferred on me was enhanced by the charms of agreeable conversation, combined with graceful manners and the most captivating modesty. She was a lovely European flower, amidst the heath of the Cape.
We were also visited in our solitude by[by] numerous officers of all ranks, who expressed sincere sympathy and interest for our misfortunes. Had their kindness at that time come to the knowledge of the English Ministry, it might have operated to their prejudice. Even now, though with a great sacrifice to my feelings, I must refrain from mentioning their names. But they may be assured that none of their actions or words were lost upon me; for gratitude is a sentiment innate in my heart.
Curiosity also had its share in attracting visitors to me. Every stranger who arrived at the colony, and in particular the numerous passengers who were proceeding to India, failed not to visit Newlands. I was a ray flung from Longwood, and all were eager to see one who had recently been near Napoleon, whom I found to be every where the universal object of interest, and the constant subject of conversation.
I had now an opportunity of answering many questions that were addressed to me respecting the Emperor, the theme on which I always dwelt most fondly. How many prejudices did I not destroy! How much astonishment did I not create! It would now be difficult to conceive how many atrocious and absurd reports respecting the Emperor had gained credit, owing to the long suspension of intercourse between the two nations, and their mutual feelings of irritation. Will it be believed that a military officer of high rank, a man of considerable intelligence, begged that I would tell him candidly whether Napoleon was really able to write. He took it for granted that he was a mere soldier, and nothing else. He seemed indeed, almost to doubt whether he could read. I laughed, and asked whether he had ever seen his military proclamations? He replied that he had, but that he supposed these had been made for him. This officer was much astonished, and acknowledged that he had nothing further to say on the subject, when I informed him that, at the age of twenty-seven, Napoleon had been a Member of the French Institute, undoubtedly the first learned establishment in Europe.
As soon as we had fixed our residence at Newlands, my first care was to send to Longwood a few articles of which the Emperor stood in need. I knew, from experience how many privations he had to endure in that abode of misery, where it was impossible to procure many things which long habit had rendered necessary or agreeable. With my heart full of these recollections, I resolved to transmit to him whatever I could procure; though I was well aware that the Emperor attached but little importance to luxuries of any kind. I however ordered some of the best Constantia and Bordeaux wines, coffee, liqueurs, oil, eau de cologne, &c. I mentioned that, if they were not of the best quality, I would decline purchasing them. The Cape is yet but ill supplied with the luxuries of Europe. Excepting Constantia wine, which is the production of the place, only small quantities of the articles I had ordered could be procured. I had taken the precaution to ask General Hall whether I should be permitted to send the things, and he very politely replied in the affirmative. With the view of facilitating the reception of this little package at St. Helena, I had determined not to have it brought to me at the Cape. I requested the officers of the Governor’s staff to have the goodness to make the purchases for me, and only reserved to myself the charge of paying for them. I mentioned these precautions in a letter to Sir Hudson Lowe, to whom I addressed the whole. It is stated by Mr. O’Meara that, on the arrival of these things at St. Helena, Sir Hudson Lowe expressed himself much offended at what I had done, which, he said, was an insult to the English Government; and, in answer to me, he afterwards stated that, though I had acted with much delicacy, yet it was out of his power to permit the articles to be transmitted to Longwood, because he was charged, in the name of the English Government, to provide every thing that was wanting at that establishment.—He forgot that he had often assured us the sum allowed him was insufficient for the purpose; and that we, on our part, had frequently complained to him of wanting necessaries. However, I afterwards understood that the articles had been sent to Longwood, and I had the inexpressible satisfaction of learning that the Constantia wine, in particular, had pleased the Emperor. It was reserved for his own use, and he called it by my name. In his last moments, when rejecting every thing that was offered, and not knowing what to have recourse to, he said—“Give me a glass of Las Cases’ wine.” How was I gratified to hear of this!
At the same time, I sent back to Sir Hudson Lowe the note which, at the sad moment of my departure, had been given to me for the four thousand louis which I left for the Emperor’s use. It purported that the sum was to be paid to me at sight. On my hesitating to accept it, the Governor, Sir Hudson Lowe, ironically said—“Take it, take it. You will go where the General has funds, and that will enable you to get payment.” Afterwards, when I came to recollect this circumstance, not doubting the report that Sir Hudson Lowe would make of it to his Ministers, I thought it right to send back the note, with the request that he would transmit to the English Government a correction of the erroneous commentaries, with which I was convinced he had not failed to accompany his account of the circumstance. “I reserve to myself,” said I, in my letter to him, “merely the signature, which to me is more valuable than the sum itself. The note is useless, I added. The Emperor’s relations would, I am sure, dispute the honour of paying me back the sum; or, in case of emergency, the first Frenchman I may happen to meet with will be ready to give me credit for it.”
We had now been two months at Newlands, and, from what I have already stated, many may be led to believe that we were perfectly happy. But can there be happiness in a state of captivity, far from one’s native country? We merely whiled away the hours as agreeably as we could. We regulated our time, and distributed our occupations. My son pursued his studies. The piano of the Misses Somerset was one of his favourite amusements. I read a great deal; for I had books at hand, and my friends regularly furnished me with the journals and new publications. In the evenings, my son walked with me in the beautiful groves surrounding the house; or, as he had bought a horse, he sometimes took an excursion in the neighbourhood, and then returned to ride backward and forward in the beautiful alleys of Newlands, where I sat down, and took pleasure in watching him. I thought I could perceive his health recruited, and his strength developing itself.
I must confess that, in these delicious summer evenings, the pure sky, the fresh air, and the beauty of the whole surrounding scene, occasionally afforded me a few hours’ enjoyment: this was my adieu to life. The rigidity of feeling occasioned by the treatment we had experienced at St. Helena, relaxed amidst the charms and perfect tranquillity of this delightful place, and I was oftener than once tempted to say, why is not the rest of my family here! Alas! if the Emperor were but as well situated!... But these moments of oblivion were brief and of rare occurrence; for, I repeat, there can be no complete and perfect happiness far from one’s country and the objects we love. With whatever charms we may be surrounded, we are ever amidst a desert. This state of feeling, and my impatience to arrive at a termination of my distress, insensibly affected my health. My constant sleepless nights afforded no respite to my misery. In vain I devoted myself to occupation and exercise during the day, and delayed until late the moment of retiring to rest. No sooner did I lie down than, in spite of myself, my thoughts instantly turned on the interval that had gone by. I counted one day less in my exile, and I calculated over and over again the time that must yet elapse before the order for our deliverance could arrive from London, the accidents that might retard it, &c. These thoughts having once taken possession of my mind, I found it absolutely impossible to close my eyes; and thus I nightly endured the most cruel torments that can be conceived.
Meanwhile, the period of the Governor’s return was at hand; and I began to be perplexed at the idea of thus finding myself in the same house with him; I presumed that it would not be very agreeable to either party, to have to confound together, under the same roof, hospitality and seclusion. But my embarrassment was soon at an end. Whether it was fact or pretence, I know not; but the Colonial Secretary came to inform me that, in consequence of the expected arrival of Lord Amherst, who was returning to Europe from his embassy to China, the Governor found it necessary to assign another residence to me.
This Colonial Secretary, whom I have not yet mentioned, though he was the second civil officer in the colony, was a man perfectly eccentric, both in person and character. He had been several times a Member of Parliament. He knew every thing, discussed every thing, and usually confused every thing he meddled with: he was said to be like an encyclopædia, with the sheets bound up in their wrong places. He first took it into his head to fix our abode in a residence which he had built, and which he had persuaded the Government to hire. Fortunately, he relinquished this design, because various difficulties opposed its execution. We should, I believe, have been obliged to proceed thither by sea; and, even had we been safely established in this abode, there would have been some uncertainty respecting the facility of communication with us when necessary. At length, it was determined that we should be lodged with a worthy family who resided about eight or ten leagues from the Cape, at a place called Tygerberg (Tiger Hill), which name it received from the Dutch, on account of the numerous tigers that inhabited the place, at the time when it was first occupied.
This occupation is not of very remote date; for these lands have not been exclusively in the possession of the civilized inhabitants until very recently. Several persons informed me that they had themselves seen tigers in the beautiful grounds of Newlands. It would appear that the Dutch, confining themselves to maritime affairs, devoted but little, or at least tardy, attention to the progress of colonization. Now, however, the industry and activity of the English are giving a different turn to affairs. All parts of the Cape, and Cape town in particular, which the sailors call the half-way house of the two worlds, will infallibly rise to the highest importance. The soil is rich and the climate admirable. The productions of the temperate zone and those of the tropics may be cultivated almost in all parts and at once. English settlers emigrate to the Cape in great numbers; and the population is rapidly increasing. Europe invaded Africa by the south, and the European race will, in course of time, spread over the whole continent, as it is now spread over America. From Botany Bay, Europeans will, in course of time, extend to New Holland, and thence subjugate China. The European race will rule the globe; happy should it expiate, by the blessings of civilization, the crimes of conquest, or its impurity of origin!
RESIDENCE AT TYGERBERG.—THE NAME OF NAPOLEON
FAMILIAR IN THE DESERT.—MANUSCRIPT OF ST.
HELENA, &C.
From April 6th to August 19th.—We left Newlands about the middle of the day, and at night reached Tygerberg. Our new host was a Mr. Baker, a native of Coblentz, or its neighbourhood, and we looked upon him as one of our countrymen, from his origin, his opinions, and the sympathy he shewed us. The family altogether formed the most agreeable society imaginable. It would have been impossible for us to have been treated with greater respect and attention. All our wishes were anticipated and gratified. We now commenced the third period of our captivity at the Cape. The first was our insupportable imprisonment in the Castle, which fortunately lasted only ten days: the second was our abode in the charming retreat of Newlands: the third was our residence at the desert of Tygerberg, which was to continue for the space of four months; and even this might not be the termination of our captivity!
At Tygerberg, we found ourselves situated on the confines of the wandering hordes. The country, here and there, presented detached habitations, at considerable distances from each other. These were occupied by cultivators of various nations, who were clearing the new grounds, in order to turn them to profitable account; and, with perseverance, regularity, and a little capital, their efforts will, no doubt, be successful. Though now removed to the very extremity of the civilized world, we found ourselves treated with even more than kindness. We observed that the people here were neither ignorant nor indifferent with respect to the events of Europe, which, on the contrary, excited an unusual degree of interest. The majority of the population was Dutch, and was, therefore, connected with our national system. Thus, to my surprise, I found the name of Napoleon familiar in this desert. The most victorious game-cock in the neighbourhood was called Napoleon! The swiftest race horse was Napoleon! The most invincible bull in the country was Napoleon! I could not refrain from laughing at this. But every one has his own way of rendering honour and respect; and Napoleon was the noblest of all names in the estimation of the inhabitants of Tygerberg.
Notwithstanding our removal from the town, we still continued to receive many visits, and it was very gratifying to us to calculate the degree of interest that was felt for us, by the degree of reserve and embarrassment that we excited.
The interest we excited was not confined to Frenchmen alone. An American captain came to me, and offered to rescue me from captivity. He informed me that he had adopted every precaution, and made every necessary arrangement; and he observed that all depended on my own will, since Mr. Baker was not my jailer, but merely my host. Yet what would have been the use of embracing this proposal? I had but one point, one object, in view, and that was, to repair to London and appeal to the English Ministers.
We endeavoured to amuse ourselves with our usual occupations. I had procured a person to read to me, and I kept him well employed. In spite of the distance, our friends still continued to supply us with the journals and new publications. At this time, I read the Letters written during the last reign of the Emperor by Mr. Hobhouse, who, I believe, was the first that ventured to speak favourably of Napoleon. I also procured Warden’s work, which, though containing many errors, was, I am confident, written with the very best intentions; and finally, I obtained a sight of the famous Manuscript of St. Helena, which excited so much interest and curiosity throughout Europe. Opinion was powerfully divided on the subject of this publication; a thousand conjectures were afloat respecting its authenticity and real origin. It would certainly be difficult for me to describe the astonishment and doubt which it excited in my mind. What were my feelings and thoughts when I found pages of truth, which seemed to have escaped from my own secret collection, mingled with whole pages of error and frivolity! I several times stopped, doubting whether I was not dreaming. I recognised not only the substance of certain passages, but even phrases and expressions, in the literal form in which I had myself transcribed them from the mouth of the narrator. They were contained in the very papers which Sir Hudson Lowe had detained at St. Helena. I could positively have affirmed that all the grand ideas and noble conceptions formed by Napoleon,—all the political speculations,—and, in short, all the most attractive and interesting contents of the celebrated Manuscript, were in my Journal collected from the conversation of Napoleon. If only this portion of the publication had been read to me, I should not, for a moment, have doubted that the work had been obtained directly from Longwood. Even the dates would have warranted this conclusion; for six or seven months had now elapsed since my expulsion from St. Helena. But whence had been procured the alloy with which the better portion of the work was mixed up? This was a riddle which I could not attempt to guess. Can it be, thought I, that the facts contained in this publication have been surreptitiously derived from my papers, certain parts of which may have been selected and put together by strange hands? But, besides that, I could not bring myself to cherish such a disagreeable suspicion without better proof. What probability was there that the hostile authority of St. Helena would favour the publication of that, which was, upon the whole, favourable to the illustrious victim of the ostracism of kings?
What was the real sentiment which dictated the Manuscript of St. Helena? This is, in many instances, very equivocal. By what hands was it produced? This question gives rise to many contradictory conjectures. Finally, it may be asked, what was the real object of the publication? It presents various styles, various sentiments, and bears evidence of various degrees of information. This publication must have been the patchwork production of various hands; for how could the individual, who appears to have been so familiar with the secret designs of the supposed author and his cabinet, have been ignorant of his opinion on various public acts, when that opinion was accessible to every body? as, for example, on the subject of Napoleon’s first marriage; the situation of the French in Egypt; the trial of the Duke d’Enghien; &c.
Is it probable that the man, who could have procured by his own means facts of so confidential a nature, should have been reduced to the necessity of mixing them up with vulgar errors? And, even supposing any one to have had sufficient shrewdness to guess these great truths, would not his judgment have suggested to him the propriety of being correct with respect to the rest? I shall say nothing of the far-fetched and singular phraseology which disfigures the work, and which can only be regarded as a proof of bad taste and an unsuccessful attempt at imitation. Neither shall I comment on the numerous and extraordinary anachronisms which this Manuscript contains. These and other circumstances render the publication totally inexplicable.
Meanwhile, time was running on, and I saw no probable termination of my exile. The interval necessary for obtaining a return of communication from England had now expired, and still I heard nothing of my removal. I was seized with profound melancholy, and almost reduced to despair. I suffered severely from continual and violent pains in my stomach. My restlessness at night still continued, my health daily declined, and disease made rapid inroads on my constitution. I was at this time attacked with pains in the head which have never since quitted me.
I have in vain had recourse to the faculty. No remedy has afforded me any immediate relief, and hitherto I have found that the most effectual method is to abstain entirely from medicine.
After my return to France I experienced a considerable improvement in my health. By dint of repose and retirement, I found myself daily gathering strength. But still, whenever I tried to converse for any length of time, or to bend my thoughts to any particular subject, I immediately experienced a recurrence of my disorder.
During the increasing indisposition under which I was labouring at Tygerberg, I wrote to request that the Governor would permit me to return to the town, for the sake of obtaining medical aid. But this request was vain: Lord Charles Somerset now turned a deaf ear to my representations.
In the impatience and irritation excited by the prolongation of my captivity, I several times, during my residence at Tygerberg, resumed, and perhaps in energetic terms, my appeals to the Governor, requesting that he would permit me to return to Europe. I have reason to believe that I succeeded in moving him. Whether from feelings of justice on his part, or from what other cause I know not, but I am sure he was not without hesitation and anxiety respecting me. He probably asked himself whether it was proper in him to become a jailor after the manner of Sir Hudson Lowe? And whether he had a right, after all, to deprive me of my liberty? But whenever he thus wavered, his ill-natured advisers were at hand to confirm him in his resolution of detaining me. “Is he not well lodged and well fed?” said they. “What then has he to complain of? and how has he acknowledged the good treatment he has experienced? By confining himself and refusing to go abroad, in order to give a greater colouring of probability to what he is pleased to call his tyrannical imprisonment.—What have been the expressions of his letters, always so misplaced and so violent?” Every thing was turned to my prejudice, and one circumstance, in particular, was taken advantage of for this purpose. On the arrival of Lord Amherst and Admiral Plampin, Lord Charles Somerset, with the intention probably of affording the strangers an opportunity of seeing and questioning me, sent me, in the midst of my desert at Tygerberg, a formal invitation to a ball, which, as well as I can recollect, was given in honour of the Prince Regent’s birth-day. The messenger was directed to wait for my answer. I wrote it on the card of invitation, and in very decided terms. I was vexed that Lord Charles Somerset seemed to have so little idea of the melancholy situation in which I was placed as to imagine me capable of going to a ball. The persons about the Governor probably insinuated that, if his Excellency had committed a fault in detaining me, it was now too late to remedy it; that the thing was done, and his Lordship would be held responsible for it; that to alter his determination would be an acknowledgment that he did not know how to act; would be condemning himself, &c. I presume, therefore, that it was resolved to run the risk of letting the affair come to a close any way it would.[[29]]
All these adverse circumstances combined to estrange Lord Charles Somerset entirely from me, and so far offended him that, in spite of his natural disposition, he treated me with a degree of inhumanity. I addressed a letter to him, describing the state of my health, and urging the indispensable necessity of my removal to the town. But to this he coolly replied, in a note sent by his Aide-de-camp, that, though he could not alter his arrangements, he had given orders for my obtaining medical attendance. But I was situated at a distance of eight or ten leagues from Cape Town; the Doctor could only visit me once a week; and as he prescribed remedies which could only be procured in the town, their application was impracticable. I lost all patience on reading this answer, which seemed to be an act of cruel irony rather than a measure of relief; and I indignantly addressed a letter directly to the Colonial Secretary. I stated that, “as it was by his direction I had been removed to Mr. Baker’s, I took the liberty of informing him that, as it was absolutely necessary I should be near my medical attendant, I presumed he could have no objection to my removal to the town, to the house of Dr. Leisching, Mr. Baker’s father-in-law.” He replied that he had consulted with the Governor, and that his Excellency had declared that his instructions did not admit of my coming back to Cape Town.
But I determined not to be satisfied with this, and I again wrote to the Colonial Secretary. I informed him that, “in spite of his letter, nothing but absolute force should prevent me from quitting Tygerberg. I was determined to repair to the town, and that the Governor might, if he pleased, confine me there, and even keep me a closer prisoner than I was at Tygerberg, as, at least, I should enjoy the advantage of being within reach of medical advice and remedies; that though perhaps I had no reason to attach great value to existence, yet I felt it to be a kind of duty to defend my life.” Fortunately, the permission for my departure at length arrived from England, just at the very moment when I was about to execute my determination; otherwise I know not how the matter would have ended. The Governor communicated this welcome intelligence to me, accompanied by the offer of a lodging prepared for me in the town. But I declined accepting it, and proceeded, as I had originally intended, to the house of Dr. Leisching, where I experienced all the attention and hospitality of Tygerberg, in a truly patriarchal family, whose society produced a beneficial effect on my health and spirits.
Now commenced a new series of vexations. I was doomed to drain the cup of disappointment to the very dregs. The Governor, when he informed me of my release, mentioned that two opportunities presented themselves for my departure, and he wished me to make choice of one. I immediately replied that the speediest would be the most desirable. I now confidently expected the receipt of my passports, and the final commands of the Governor. I was confined to my bed. Two days elapsed; and in the mean time one of the ships sailed. What was my vexation and disappointment, particularly when I was afterwards informed that the Governor had nothing more to communicate to me; and that I was at liberty to make whatever arrangements I pleased respecting my departure. I vehemently complained that the first opportunity should have been allowed to escape; but for this there was no remedy. A large transport was lying in the harbour, which was destined to convey a regiment of artillery to England. I begged the Governor would permit me to take my passage in this vessel, as there were medical officers on board. His answer was that there was no accommodation for me. In vain I represented that if there had been two additional artillery-officers, they would certainly not have been left behind; that if there were two more sailors to be embarked, they would surely find room for them; and we wanted no better accommodation. All these arguments were unavailing. I was informed that the ship was to touch at St. Helena, and that this circumstance, in itself, would preclude the possibility of my taking my passage on board her. I was compelled to yield, and to confine myself to the choice which the Governor had so generously left me, which was to proceed to Europe by the only ship that was then in the harbour. This was an extremely small brig, an absolute cock-boat, destined to perform a voyage of three thousand leagues. However, I felt no hesitation. I would have leaped into the sea rather than have delayed another moment. The bargain was soon struck, and I was now all impatience for the moment of departure.
The Captain of the brig informed me that he had received orders from the Governor to prohibit me from having any communication on shore, if he should be obliged to touch at any place in the course of the voyage and on reaching England, he was not to suffer me to land until he should previously receive orders from Government. Thus I was absolutely[absolutely] a prisoner in the hands of this man, though I was bound to pay him the sum which he had been pleased to demand for my passage. This circumstance appeared to me so extraordinary that I wished to obtain a confirmation of it, lest it might be the subject of doubt when I should have to relate it. Therefore, when, for the last time, I applied to the Governor for my passports, I called his attention to this extraordinary fact. I begged that he would certify, in his answer to me, that I had myself agreed to pay for my passage on board the brig, which, by his instructions, was now converted into my prison. But, as it may be supposed, I received my passports and nothing more.