Memoirs of the life, exile, and conversations of the Emperor Napoleon. (Vol. IV)

by comte de Emmanuel-Auguste-Dieudonné Las Cases

MADAME MERE TO THE ALLIED SOVEREIGNS AT AIX-LA-CHAPELLE.

Sires,—A mother, afflicted beyond all expression, has long cherished the hope that the meeting of your Imperial and Royal Majesties will afford some alleviation of her distress.

The prolonged captivity of the Emperor Napoleon gives occasion for appealing to you. It is impossible but that your magnanimity, your power, and the recollection of past events, should induce your Imperial and Royal Majesties to interest yourselves for the deliverance of a Prince, who has had so great a share in your regard and even in your friendship.

Would you suffer to perish, in miserable exile, a Sovereign, who, relying on the magnanimity of his enemy, threw himself into his power? My son might have demanded an asylum from the Emperor, his father-in-law; he might have consigned himself to the generosity of the Emperor Alexander, of whom he was once the friend; he might have taken refuge with his Prussian Majesty, who, in that case, would, no doubt, have recollected his old alliance. Should England punish him for the confidence which he reposed in her?

The Emperor Napoleon is no longer to be feared. He is infirm. And even if he were in the full enjoyment of health, and had the means which Providence once placed in his hands, he abhors civil war.

Sires, I am a mother, and my son’s life is dearer to me than my own. Pardon my grief, which prompts me to take the liberty of addressing this letter to your Imperial and Royal Majesties.

Do not render unavailing the entreaties of a mother, who thus appeals against the long series of cruelties that has been exercised towards her son.

In the name of Him, who is in essence goodness, and of whom your Imperial and Royal Majesties are the image, I entreat that you will interest yourselves to put a period to my son’s misery, and to restore him to liberty. For this I implore God, and I implore you who are his Lieutenants on earth.

Reasons of state have their limits; and posterity, which gives immortality, adores, above all things, the generosity of conquerors.

I am, &c.

MADAME MERE.

This letter remained unanswered. Other steps were taken in favour of Napoleon, by different members of his family; but they were not made known in a way sufficiently authentic to authorize my mentioning them here.

NOTE ADDRESSED TO THE ALLIED SOVEREIGNS, AT THE CONGRESS
OF AIX-LA-CHAPELLE, OCTOBER, 1818.

Sires,—Royal Majesty has no judges on earth. But since sovereigns themselves, stripping it of its most sacred attribute, have subjected it to their tribunal, I come with respectful confidence to appeal to them in favour of a monarch, whom they long recognised, but who is now deposed by them, a captive in their name, and presenting to the world the grandest and most terrible vicissitude that was ever witnessed. Who shall deem himself secure, if even inviolability be violated?

Faithful to his dignity, superior to misfortune, he looks forward to death as the only termination of his misery. But I, who have been unexpectedly torn from the fatal rock where I rendered him every attention in my power, wish now to devote to him the remainder of a feeble life, and to endeavour to assuage the misery which I am no longer permitted to share.

I have taken upon myself the sacred mission in which I am now engaged. I have been prompted to do so by my tender devotedness to the person of the Emperor, by my private affection for him who was my Sovereign.

I am here a stranger to every political question. I have no other impulse, no other guide, than that sacred morality which is alike respected by kings and subjects. It constitutes my strength, my right, and my excuse.

Napoleon on his rock is a prey to torments and vexations of every kind; he is the victim of the ill treatment of men, and the insalubrity of climate. These facts are now notorious to all, and are sufficiently proved by authentic documents, transmitted from the place itself, several of which I now presume to submit to the eyes of your Majesties.

If the law of war, if the law of nations, have been transgressed for the peace of the world, as it is said, the law of humanity at least cannot be extinct.

For the last three years, war has every where been succeeded by peace; passions are calmed; nations and individuals are reconciled; the hostility of governments and parties is disarmed; the common law of nations has resumed its sway; one man alone is excluded from these benefits. He alone is still without the pale of human law. He is exiled to a barren rock, exposed to an unhealthy climate, doomed to the misery of a lingering death, and is the daily victim of hatred and insult. When will there be an end to this extraordinary persecution? If he be doomed to live, this extraordinary treatment is too cruel! And surely it is still more barbarous if he be doomed to die! What is his crime? By whom has he been tried? By what tribunal? Who are his judges? Where is their right to pronounce sentence on him? Will it be said that the only guarantee, the only security, against him, are imprisonment, chains, and death? Will it be said that his acts, his promises, and his oaths are not to be trusted? Will his return from the isle of Elba be mentioned as an instance of his bad faith? But at Elba he was a Sovereign: engagements had been entered into with him, and had not been kept! Now, by quitting the continent, he has resigned all sovereignty, and declared his political career to be at an end. The case is entirely altered. If the sacrifice of his life can alone appease hatred, and put a period to alarm, why not inflict death openly? (these are his own words;) a speedy death, though not more just, would have been more humane, and less odious; it would be a favour. This is what he has himself repeatedly said and written. Who can deny the justice of the remark?

What sufficient motives can still be maintained in justification of such intolerable treatment?

Is it wished to punish his past invasions? But the invaded countries have forgotten their resentment in the triumph of victory, and they are now silent. Is it wished to make reprisals? But Napoleon was a conqueror, and did he act thus? What was his conduct at Austerlitz, at the bivouac of Moravia, at Vienna, at Tilsit, at the conferences of Dresden? Let him be viewed even in that circumstance in which history will have most difficulty in defending him. Charles IV. when a captive in the hands of Napoleon, had his choice of residing either in Compiegne, Marseilles, or Rome, always maintaining the dignity of a king. Ferdinand, at Valency, was surrounded by all the attention and respect he could wish. A prince who disputed the throne with the Emperor fell into his hands. What use did Napoleon make of his victory? The immediate release of the prisoner attested his magnanimity; and history will compare this act with the indignities that are heaped upon the Emperor.

Is it intended to renew for Napoleon the ostracism of the ancients? But the ancients, if they banished from among them the talents which they had reason to fear, did not sacrifice the victim. They did not transport him to another hemisphere, to a desert rock, and a burning climate. They did not, at least, render Nature chargeable with a crime which, in the present case, it would seem, human hands dare not execute.

Finally, is it feared that even the Emperor’s name would have too powerful an influence in Europe? May not his enemies defeat their own ends? Persecution always excites interest, always moves the great mass of the people, who are invariably generous. If it be wished to create partizans, it is sufficient to make martyrs! Where, then, is the necessity for these extraordinary and singular measures? Why thus violate at once the code of nations, the code of sovereigns, and the code of private men?

Among civilized nations, fury is disarmed before a fallen enemy, who is respected even among savages, particularly when he trusts to good faith.

Why then persist in opposing the demands of humanity, justice, religion, morality, policy, and all the laws of civilization? Why not rather yield to the dictates of generosity, glory and true interest? The examples of kings doomed to misery and death have always been condemned by history: they are recollected with horror by subjects, and with dread by sovereigns.

Since my removal from St. Helena, I do not personally know what changes may have taken place in the treatment of the Emperor Napoleon; but before my departure it was intolerable, both as regarded his personal dignity and his moral and physical existence. Have those modifications at length been made which his servants so long and so vainly solicited? But the deadly influence of the climate and all the horrors of the place of banishment cannot be changed. These circumstances in themselves suffice to poison all the sources of life. There is no dungeon in Europe that would not be preferable to Longwood, and there is no human being, whatever might be his vigour of body and strength of mind, who could, under such circumstances, long resist the effects of so terrible a prison.

The victim is already seized with a disease that must infallibly, in a very short time, hurry him to his grave. The faculty have candidly pronounced this opinion, and, in the anguish of my heart, I presume to report it to your Majesties, trusting that your humanity and high wisdom will suggest a remedy.

Surely I cannot be accused of want of respect and devotedness to sovereignty. The testimonies which my life presents are my guarantee for now presuming to address your Majesties; as the consciousness of your interests, dignity, and glory, is the guarantee of my hopes and wishes.

COUNT LAS CASES.

LETTER TO HIS MAJESTY THE EMPEROR OF AUSTRIA, ENCLOSING
THE ABOVE NOTE. (ADDRESSED TO THE EMPEROR HIMSELF.)

Sire,—On the 10th of February last, I presumed to lay at your Majesty’s feet the wishes and entreaties of a faithful servant in favour of his master.

I hope your Majesty will forgive my perseverance, which may, perhaps, have the appearance of importunity. I now venture to lay before you another note, in favour of him who was your brother, and whom you made your son. I take the liberty of accompanying this note with some authentic documents.

Sire, my hope and my apology rest on the many excellent virtues for which your Majesty is distinguished. Europe acknowledges and proclaims you to be the most sincere, moral, humane, and religious of men; and yet it is in your name that the tortures of a lingering death are inflicted on him, to whom you gave the hand of your beloved daughter; whom your own choice and religion have made your son.

Ah, Sire! tremble lest his blood-stained coat should be presented to you!... And when the day of eternal judgment shall arrive, when the Supreme Judge of men and things, pronouncing his terrible decrees, shall ask, “What have you done with your son? Why did you separate the husband from the wife? How durst you disunite those who had been joined and blessed in my name? I might award victory to whom I pleased; but none could take advantage of that victory to abuse my holy laws, without incurring my anger—--”[anger—--”]

But, Sire, I say no more: perhaps I have already gone too far. I crave your Majesty’s forgiveness. These are the sentiments by which I am powerfully excited;—these are the complaints that are wrung from me by the murder of my master, which has been perpetrating before my eyes. Sire, on my knees, I implore your interference, to prevent the crime of homicide. Be not deaf to my entreaties!

I am &c.[^[38]]

COUNT LAS CASES.

LETTER TO LORD CASTLEREAGH, WITH A COPY OF THE NOTE
ADDRESSED TO THE ALLIED SOVEREIGNS.

My Lord,—I have the honour to present to your Lordship a copy of a note, which I took the liberty of addressing to the Allied Sovereigns.

I am induced to transmit this note to you, my Lord, on account of my profound respect for the august individual whom you represent, and the esteem I entertain for your Lordship’s personal talents.

Whatever may be your opinions, my Lord, respecting this note, perhaps even your objections to it, I am convinced your Lordship has too much generosity to condemn, wholly and without reserve, a servant, who is resolved, until the latest moment of his existence, to exert every effort for the relief and consolation of his Sovereign.

My Lord, how great has been your influence on the destiny of that Sovereign! How great may it yet be! Why cannot my voice reach your Lordship’s ear? In the anguish of my tedious solitude, I have frequently sought to discover the great motives which might have dictated your harsh and cruel determination. My mind dwells only on the interest of your country, the rigorous law of necessity, the conviction of the character and disposition of him at whom you aim the blow; and finally, the glory and responsibility of your ministerial situation. Has your Lordship been able to combine together the whole of the contradictory circumstances? Have you exhausted every source of information? How I regret that the impaired state of my health and faculties does not permit me adequately to express my feelings and thoughts! They would perhaps make an impression on you, my Lord: perhaps many facts, that I could relate, would excite your astonishment and serious consideration.

I have the honour to be, &c.

COUNT LAS CASES.

The period of the meeting of the Congress having arrived, I went to Frankfort, and happened to reach that place on the very day on which the Emperor Alexander made his entry. This was no doubt a very favourable opportunity to solicit the favour of being presented to that Sovereign; and his well known affability, the facility with which he grants admission into his presence, and perhaps also the peculiar[peculiar] circumstances relating to me, were so many encouragements to the hope of easily obtaining an audience, and I was consequently strongly advised by every body to attempt it. It was the surest way, they said, to accomplish the object I had in view, and I was much blamed for refusing to make the trial. But I had maturely weighed within my own breast the advantages and disadvantages of such a step, and I was far from sharing the general opinion as to the probability of its result. To what, had I said to myself, could such a high favour lead me? Could I expect to touch the heart of this Sovereign by my eloquence? And if my words had produced some effect upon him as a man, was not the final decision to proceed from the concurrence of many others? And was I certain, in an interview of so little duration, and of so much embarrassment, to speak with as much method and precision as I could write? Was it right for me to deliver to him, before the proper time had arrived, authentic documents, which I intended only for the Sovereigns assembled, as if it were an ordinary petition? And, if the Emperor Alexander had happened to express himself in my presence, respecting the Emperor Napoleon, in terms which I could not but have contradicted, as it was but too probable that he would express himself, might it not turn out that I had irritated and indisposed, instead of conciliating, him? This latter consideration had chiefly led to my determination not to seek for an audience, which presented so many objections and offered but a single advantage, and that one personal to me, viz., the signal favour of seeing the first of monarchs, and of conversing with him of whom Napoleon had said on his rock; “If I die here, he will be my heir in Europe.”

Besides, the Emperor Alexander knew that I was at Frankfort. I was told that he had mentioned it in one of his circles, and I was almost certain that he had been spoken to about me. The circumstance from which I obtained this information is singular enough to be mentioned here. My room at the hotel where I had alighted happened to be next to that of one of his generals, who possessed his intimate confidence, and who was admitted into his presence at all times. The second or third evening after my arrival, the master of the hotel came into my room to inform me that the General was ready to receive me, and that he would have much pleasure in granting me the interview which I had asked for. In the first moment of surprise, my immediate answer was to bid him go and say it was a mistake; but, suddenly reflecting that this was, perhaps, a fortunate circumstance, brought about by the intervention of Providence, I ran after the man who was already delivering his message, and explained myself from the door of the apartment, that there was probably some error, since I had not the honour of asking such a favour; upon which the General ran towards me, as if to detain me, and dismissing his Aide-de-camp, said to me, with an air of affability and politeness, that, whether it was through mistake or not, he should be happy to avail himself of this opportunity to become acquainted, and have some conversation with me. And we then had a very long conversation together, and, as it will be easily believed, wholly relating to St. Helena.

I had only come to Frankfort to deposit, in due form, all my documents in the respective legations, and that done, I returned immediately to Manheim, in order to escape from the bustle and from the intrigues of Frankfort. Several persons came thither and offered to serve me at the Congress, assuring me that their services might be of very great importance, and proposing to become very zealous agents in my cause. For this assistance I should of course have been obliged to pay very largely, and it has been seen that I had scarcely wherewith to supply the first wants of him for the uncertain interests of whom large sums were demanded of me. During the sitting of the Congress, and whilst I was waiting in the hope of a favourable decision from the Sovereigns, I was destined to receive, even in my solitude at Manheim, fresh proofs of the perverseness of Sir Hudson Lowe, and of the ill treatment which he continued to inflict upon his victims. An unfortunate gunner of an East Indiaman found me out at Manheim, and about the same time I received a large packet from General Bertrand. The history of the gunner and of all the vexations to which he was exposed from the Governor and his confidents, for having been the bearer of a bust of young Napoleon, from which he hoped to derive some advantage, by offering it at Longwood, is detailed at some length in Mr. O’Meara’s work. This bust, which the Governor had at first intended to throw into the sea, and the existence of which he afterwards attempted to conceal by taking possession of it, under pretence of making a present of it to Napoleon himself, was, however, at last sent to Longwood, in consequence of the expression of public indignation; and Count Bertrand sent to the gunner, as well for the value of the bust as to indemnify him for all the vexations and losses which it had occasioned him, one of the bills which I left with him at my departure, amounting to 300l. Count Bertrand, on sending the bill to the gunner, requested him to acknowledge the receipt of it; but the poor fellow, so far from being enabled to acknowledge the receipt of the bill, had not even heard of Count Bertrand’s Letter, and had been obliged to pursue his voyage to India, after having delivered the bust, with the following verbal information given to him by Sir Hudson Lowe: “That the people of Longwood had destined some gratuity for him, and that he would hear of it in the course of time.” On his return from India, the unfortunate gunner was not allowed to go on shore during the whole time the ship stayed at St. Helena, and he was merely told once more that what had been mentioned to him concerning his interests was at the Admiralty in London. When he reached England, he at last, upon inquiry, got the bill; and it was the first time he had heard of it; but upwards of eighteen months had elapsed; the persons on whom it was drawn no longer had the necessary funds, and he was obliged to leave London with the melancholy persuasion that he had lost both his bust and his money. This gunner was an inhabitant of Dalmatia, and was going through Germany on his return home, by way of Trieste, when he heard, by the greatest chance in the world, at Frankfort, that he should find at Manheim the drawer of the bill which he held; he therefore came to me, and his joy was as lively as his imprecations against Sir Hudson Lowe were abundant, on receiving that sum which, as he said, was a little fortune to him, and would render him happy for the remainder of his life.

The large packet which I received from the Grand Marshal consisted of a long letter from him, written by order of the Emperor, and of sundry authentic documents which had arrived out of the regular channel. But, to my great surprise, the very day when I received that letter, I read its contents in the Netherland newspapers, as extracted and re-translated from the English papers. Guessing what had been the intentions at Longwood, I nevertheless sent an official copy of that letter to Lord Liverpool, as will be seen presently. I insert here all those documents, because Count Bertrand’s letter, giving a rather detailed account of the ill treatment which the Emperor experienced from the moment I had left him, lays before the reader a further period of eighteen months of the history of Longwood. Some of these documents, besides, have postscripts in Napoleon’s own hand-writing, and are too remarkable to be left unnoticed.