MY REMOVAL TO BALCOMBE’S COTTAGE.
From 28th to 30th.—This day, 28th, we have been removed from our wretched hovel to a kind of cottage belonging to Mr. Balcombe, our former host when at Briars, and situated about a league distant. The house was small, but very tolerable, and situated opposite to Longwood, and at a short distance from it: we were only separated from it by several ridges of precipices and steep summits of mountains. We were guarded by a detachment of the sixty-sixth regiment; numerous sentinels watched over us, and forbade the approach to our prison. An officer was at our disposal, Sir Hudson Lowe obligingly said, and, as he affirmed, for our convenience. All communications were strictly intercepted; we were placed in a state of the most absolute seclusion. On the summit of the hills which surrounded the hollow in which our house was situated, there was a road on which we saw to-day General Gourgaud, accompanied by an English officer. We could observe his efforts to come as near to us as possible, and we received with feelings of joy and affection the signs and demonstrations of friendship which our companion addressed to us from that distance, and returned ours to him in the same manner. The kind and excellent Madame Bertrand sent us again some oranges: we were not allowed to write to her to thank her, and were obliged to confine the expression of our gratitude by sending her some roses which we had gathered in our prison.
The next day Sir Hudson Lowe came to see us in our new residence. He wished to know what kind of bed I had had, and I took him to the next room and shewed him a mattress on the floor. The same kind of attention had been bestowed upon our food. “I mention these things to you,” said I, “because you have asked me; but, for my part, I do not care about them.” He then grew very angry with the person to whom he had intrusted the superintendence of our establishment here, and sent us our meals from his own table at Plantation House, although a distance of two leagues, and continued so to do until our wants were regularly provided for.
It became necessary to devise some occupation in our new prison, to enable us to bear the weight of time. I divided our hours so as to fill up our days: I regularly gave lessons in history and mathematics to my son; we read, and, during our intervals of leisure, we walked about our enclosure. The place was agreeable enough for St. Helena, it contained some verdure and a few trees. A great number of common fowls, which were rearing for the consumption of Longwood, were kept there, as well as some Guinea fowls, and other large birds, which we soon rendered tame: prisoners are ingenious and compassionate. In the evening, we used to light a fire, and then I related to my son some family stories; I informed him of my family concerns, and mentioned to him, and made him take down the names of those persons who had shewn themselves kind to me during the course of my life, or had rendered me any service. In short, our life was dull and melancholy, but so calm that it was not devoid of a kind of pleasurable feeling. One idea alone was exceedingly painful, and haunted us continually: the Emperor was there almost within sight, and yet we inhabited two distinct worlds; we were separated only by a short distance, and yet all communication had ceased! There was something horrible in this situation; I was no longer with him, and I was not with my family, which I had left to follow him. What then remained to me? My son shared in these feelings: urged by this situation, and by the enthusiasm of youth, the dear boy offered to me, in a moment of excitement, to take advantage of the darkness of night, to elude the vigilance of our guards, descend the numerous precipices, and scale the steep heights which parted us from Longwood, see Napoleon, and bring me back some news from him, which he engaged to do before day-light. I calmed this zeal, which, even had it rendered the attempt practicable, would have produced no other result than a feeling of personal satisfaction, and might have occasioned the most serious consequences. The Emperor had conversed with me so often and so fully that I did not suppose there was any thing he might wish to inform me of; and if such an attempt by my son had been discovered, what a noise it would have made, what importance would have been attached to it by the Governor, what absurd stories he would have invented and produced! &c.
MY RESOLUTION.—MY LETTERS TO SIR HUDSON
LOWE, &C.
From Sunday December 1st, to Friday December 6th.—The days of our imprisonment were slowly succeeding each other, and the Governor, although he continued to visit us frequently, did not mention any thing concerning our situation: he had merely hinted to me that my residence in the Island and my confinement might be protracted, until instructions were returned from London.
Eight days had nearly elapsed without producing the least approach towards any result whatever. This state of inactivity and passiveness could not agree with the nature of my disposition. The health of my son was at times most alarming. Deprived of all communication with Longwood, I was left alone to meditate by myself. I reflected upon the situation in which I was thus placed, fixed upon a plan, and took a resolution. I chose it, extreme in its nature, thinking that, if it was approved by the Emperor, it might be useful, and that it would be very easy to retrace my steps if he wished it. I therefore[therefore] wrote to the Governor the following letter:
“Sir,—In consequence of a snare laid by my servant, I was on the 25th ultimo torn from Longwood, and all my papers were seized, for having infringed your restrictions, to which I had previously submitted. Had you trusted the observance of these restrictions to my word or to my delicacy, I should have considered them as sacred; but you chose to guard them by attaching penalties to their violation, and I chose to run the risk of encountering them. You have applied those penalties at your own discretion, and I have made no objection to it. All this, as far it goes, is perfectly regular; but the measure of punishment should not exceed the measure of the offence. What is now the case? Two letters have been delivered for transmission without your knowledge: one of them contains the relation of the events that have occurred to us, written for Prince Lucien, and which would have passed through your hands, if you had not informed me that the continuation of my correspondence and the style of my letters would cause my removal by you from the person of the Emperor. The other letter was merely a letter of friendship. However, this circumstance has placed all my papers at your disposal, you have seen them all, even to the most secret. I have myself so much facilitated your researches that I have consented to allow you to peruse solely upon your word, that which was known only to myself, which is as yet a mass of undigested ideas, undetermined, and liable at every moment to be corrected, or modified; in a word, the secret, the chaos of my thoughts. In so doing I have wished to convince you, and I appeal to your candour, when I say that I hope I have convinced you that, in the multitude of papers which you have hastily looked over, there is nothing that could be considered as tending to interfere with the high and important part of your functions: no plot, no plan, not even a thought relating to Napoleon’s escape. You could not find any, because none existed. We are of opinion that his escape is impossible, and we do not think of it. Yet I will not deny that I should willingly have attempted to effect it, had I seen the possibility of success. I should willingly have sacrificed my life to restore him to liberty. I should have fallen a martyr to my zeal, and my memory would have lived for ever in all noble and generous hearts. But I repeat it, nobody considers the attempt practicable; and nobody thinks of making it. The Emperor Napoleon’s plans and wishes are still those which he formed when he repaired willingly and in good faith on board the Bellerophon, that is, to go and seek a life of tranquillity in America, or even in England, under the protection of the laws.
“These points settled, I protest with all my might against your reading henceforward, I might say all my private papers, but I confine myself to what I call my Journal. I owe it to the great respect which I entertain for the august personage whose name fills its pages, I owe it to the respect due to myself, to state my solemn objection to your so doing. I therefore demand either that those papers may be immediately restored to me, if you think conscientiously that their contents are foreign to the grand object of your administration; or if, from what you have read of them, you consider that certain parts should be laid before the British Ministers, I demand that you will forward them all to England, and send me with them. You, Sir, are so often alluded to in those papers that delicacy imperatively commands you to adopt one of those two alternatives. You cannot possibly endeavour to avail yourself, more than I have allowed you, of this opportunity to read in them what concerns you personally, lest you expose yourself to the conclusions that will be drawn by induction from this abuse of your authority, lest the circumstance be thought connected with the trap laid for me, and with the great stir that has been made about such a trifle. As soon as I shall have arrived in England with these papers, I shall ask the Ministers in their turn, and I shall appeal to the whole world, whether any importance can be attached, in the eye of the law, to a document recording day by day, with all the negligence warranted by strict privacy, the conversation, the words, and perhaps even the gestures, of the Emperor Napoleon? I shall ask them particularly whether I have not a right to demand of them the most inviolable secrecy concerning every part of a Journal, which is only the rough draught of my thoughts, which properly speaking does not exist, which contains only materials yet undigested; which I might without scruple disavow in almost every particular, as being as yet far from being settled in my own mind, and in which it happened to me, every day, to have to correct by the tenor of a new conversation the errors of a former one, errors that must be unavoidable and of frequent occurrence both with respect to the man who speaks without knowing that he is observed, and to the man who collects without considering himself bound to warrant the authenticity of his information. As for what concerns you, Sir, in those pages, if you have frequently had occasion to complain of the opinions I have pronounced, or the facts I have stated, it is very easy to point out, between man and man, the errors into which I may have fallen. You cannot possibly afford me a greater pleasure than by giving me an opportunity of being just; and whatever be the opinion in which I persist, after your explanation, you will at least be obliged to acknowledge my candour and sincerity. Be that as it may, Sir, and whatever be your intentions with respect to me, I from this moment withdraw, in as far as my present position will admit, from the state of voluntary subjection in which I had placed myself towards you. When I entered into that engagement, you told me that I remained at liberty to retract it at any time; and I therefore, from the present moment, desire to be restored to the common class of citizens. I place myself once more under the operation of your civil laws; I appeal to your tribunals, not to implore their favour, but their justice and their judgment. I presume, General, that you have too much respect for the laws, and too much innate justice in your heart, to make it necessary for me so far to insult you as to observe, that you would become responsible for all violations of the law that may be exercised against me directly or indirectly. I do not suppose that the letter of your instructions, which might induce you to detain me a prisoner here or at the Cape during several months, could shelter you from the spirit of those same instructions, appealed to by the power, the superiority, the majesty of the laws.
“Those instructions, if I have rightly understood them, in ordering you to detain every person having belonged to the establishment at Longwood, during a certain time before you restore them to liberty, have only for their object, no doubt, to derange the communications that might have been held with that horrible prison, and to let some time elapse after their cessation. Now the manner in which I have been torn away has been sufficient to attain that end. It was impossible for me to bring away any idea of the moment. I was, as it were, struck with sudden death. Besides, if I am sent to England under accusation, and submitted to the operation of the laws, they will, if I am found guilty, sufficiently obviate the inconvenience which it has been sought to avoid. If I am not guilty, I shall still be exposed to the provisions of the Alien Act; or, if that is not enough, I here give beforehand my voluntary assent to all precautions, however arbitrary they may be, which it may be thought proper to adopt against me on this occasion.
“Without yet knowing, Sir, what your intentions may be with respect to the disposal of my person, I have already imposed upon myself the greatest of all sacrifices. I am still very near to Longwood, and perhaps I am already separated from it by eternity; horrible thought, that harrows up my soul, and will continue to haunt my imagination!... But a few days ago, and you would have brought me to submit to the greatest sacrifices, by the fear of being removed from the Emperor’s person; to-day, it is not in your power to restore me to him. A stain has been affixed upon me, by arresting me almost within his sight, I can no longer be a source of consolation to him; he would only see in me a being dishonoured, suggesting painful recollections. And yet his presence, the attentions which I delighted to pay him, are dearer to me than my life. But perhaps, some pity will be shewn to me from afar! Something tells me that I shall return; but by a purified channel, bringing with me all that is dear to my existence, to assist me in surrounding with pious and tender cares the immortal monument placed at the extremity of the universe, and slowly consuming by the inclemency of the climate and the perfidy and cruelty of mankind. You have spoken[spoken] to me, Sir, of your own afflictions; we do not suspect that you have mentioned all the tribulations with which you are assailed; but every one knows and feels his own misery only. You do not suspect, on your side, Sir, that you keep Longwood covered with the veil of mourning. I have the honour,” &c.
A correspondence being once established with Sir Hudson Lowe, I did not remain idle. The following day I wrote to him again, to tell him that, in consequence of my letter of the preceding day, I now officially and in due form demanded my removal from St. Helena and my return to Europe. On the following day, I took up the same subject, and treated it with reference to my situation, as affecting my domestic concerns.
“In my two preceding letters,” said I to him, “both relating to my political situation, I thought it improper and unbecoming to introduce a single word touching my private affairs; but now that I consider myself as belonging once more to the mass of common citizens, I do not hesitate, as an accidental inhabitant of your island, to represent to you all the horrors of my private situation. You are aware of the dangerous state of my son’s health: it must have been reported to you by the medical men. Ever since he has seen the dear and sacred tie which bound us to Longwood dissolved, all his ideas, all his wishes, all his hopes, are ardently turned towards Europe, and his disease will be increased by impatience and the power of imagination. Such is his physical situation, which renders my moral situation still worse, if possible. I have to contend at one and the same time against the feelings of my heart and the uneasiness of my mind. I cannot consider, without a feeling of terror, that I am responsible to myself for having brought him hither, and for being the cause of his being detained here. What should I answer to his mother, who would ask me for her son? What should I reply to the multitude of idlers and others, who, though indifferent to the circumstances, are ever ready to judge and condemn? I say nothing of my own health, it is of little importance amidst such emotions, and such causes of anxiety. And yet, I find myself in a most deplorable state; for, since I have no longer before my eyes the cause which kept the faculties of my mind in action, my body sinks under the dreadful havoc produced by eighteen months’ struggles, agitations, and afflictions, such as the imagination can hardly dwell upon. I am no longer near the august personage for whom I cheerfully endured them, and I am nevertheless also separated from my family, whose absence has caused me so much sorrow. Deprived of both objects, my heart is torn between them; it wanders in an abyss; it can no longer endure this situation. I leave you, Sir, to weigh these considerations. Do not sacrifice two victims. I request that you will send us to England, to the source of science and of every kind of assistance. This is the first demand of any kind, that I have made either of yourself or your predecessor. But the deplorable state of my son’s health overpowers my stoicism; will it not awaken your humanity? Several motives may tend to influence your decision: they are all contained in my letter of 30th November. I shall merely add here that an opportunity now offers for you to give a great and rare example of impartiality, in sending thus to your Ministers one of your adversaries.“
After having received these two letters, Sir Hudson Lowe called upon me, and with reference to the first, he immediately denied having laid any trap for me through the medium of my servant. He however admitted that appearances warranted my suspicions.
Sir Hudson Lowe, afterwards, went on to discuss verbally some passages of my letters, dwelling particularly upon certain expressions, which, he represented to me in a friendly manner, could not but be unpleasant to him. He found me not only on this, but on several other occasions of the same nature, perfectly accommodating. My answer to his observations was generally to take up the pen immediately, and erase or modify the expressions that displeased him.
I omit a pretty voluminous correspondence upon the same subject; I shall merely state that, in general, Sir Hudson Lowe avoided giving a written answer, and that his custom was to come, as it has just been seen, to converse with me respecting[respecting] the letters he had just received, and obtain some erasures, after which he retired, saying that he would soon give a circumstantial answer: this he did not do at the time, and has never done since; but, as I have been informed from England, he now pays periodical papers, or occasional libellers, to abuse my work, and to revile its author.
As, in the numerous verbal discussions to which my letters gave rise, Sir Hudson Lowe did not, with the exception of the erasure of a few expressions, obtain any important concession, or attain any of the objects which he had in view; he would, on leaving me, represent me as a man of deep cunning, and, as he affirmed, very much to be feared: for with him a man was very cunning, very crafty, and very dangerous, who had sense enough not to yield blindly to all his views, or to fall into his snares. However, the following is the only trick I ever played him. The idleness and rigour of captivity sharpen the invention; besides, it was all fair between us: the incontestable right of a prisoner is to endeavour to deceive his gaoler.
I said, at the beginning of this work, that the Emperor at the moment of our departure for St. Helena, had secretly intrusted me with a necklace of diamonds of very considerable value.
The habit of carrying it about me for such a length of time had brought me to think no more about it, so that it was only after several days of seclusion, and quite by chance, that I thought of it. Closely watched as I was, I could not see any possibility of being able to restore it to the Emperor, who had no doubt forgotten it as well as myself. After having thought a great deal on the subject, I contrived to make use of Sir Hudson Lowe himself for that purpose. I requested to be allowed to bid my companions farewell, and wrote the following letter to the Grand Marshal:—
”Sir,—Torn from the midst of you all, left to myself, deprived of all communication whatever, I have been obliged to found my decisions on my own judgment and my own feelings. I have addressed them officially to Sir Hudson Lowe, on the 30th of November. In return for the liberty which I am allowed, I abstain from saying a single word about it, and rely upon the delicacy of the high authorities to communicate to you the whole of my letter, if any part of it should ever be mentioned or alluded to—I resign myself to my fate.
“It only remains for me to request you will lay at the Emperor’s feet the assurance of my respect, veneration, and affection: my life is still entirely devoted to him. I shall never enjoy any happiness but near his august person.
“In the unfortunate state of penury to which you are all reduced, I should have most ardently wished to leave behind me some of my wife’s jewels ... a necklace ... the widow’s mite! But how shall I venture to offer it?... I have often made the offer of the four thousand louis which I possess in England at my disposal, that offer I now again renew; my position, whatever it be, cannot produce any alteration in my intention. I shall henceforward be proud to be in want! Once more, Sir, assure the Emperor of my entire devotion to his person, of my fidelity and unshaken constancy....
“And you, my dear companions of Longwood, let me ever live in your recollection! I know the privations and afflictions to which you are exposed; and my heart bleeds for you. With you, I was of little importance; far from you, you shall know my zeal and my tender solicitude, if they have humanity enough to allow me to exercise them. I embrace you all very affectionately, and request you will add for yourself, Sir, the assurance of my respect and consideration.
“P.S. This letter has been ready for you some time;[time;] it was written when I thought I was going to be removed hence. To-day the Governor, in giving me permission to send it to you, informs me that I am to wait here, until answers shall have arrived from England. Thus I shall be for months at St. Helena, and yet Longwood will cease to exist for me; a new species of torment which I had not thought of!”
Sir Hudson Lowe, to whom I delivered this letter open, for such was his condition, read it, approved it, and was kind enough to undertake to deliver it himself, a circumstance which had the effect of exciting the Emperor’s attention, and which contributed, in a great measure, though indirectly, to cause the deposit to be restored to Napoleon.
A register was made of all letters from my London friends, in order to ascertain in the public offices whether any had arrived by indirect modes of conveyance. I had commenced a second letter to Prince Lucien; the Governor laid particular stress upon it. It was in vain I represented to him that it was full of erasures, and crowded with pencil notes almost effaced; that it had not been written, and did not therefore exist in reality; that I might disown it without scruple; that it was impossible to make any legal or honest use of it: he persisted in having some parts of the letter copied; God knows for what purpose!
He was much puzzled by a note of the Lieutenant-Governor’s lady. On quitting St. Helena for England, she had told us that the law forbade her taking charge of any letter; but that she would have great pleasure in being useful to us in any other way. I had sent to her, for my London friends, some articles which had been used by the Emperor, or which had come from himself. A small silver inkstand, I believe, some words in his hand-writing, perhaps some of his hair; I know not what. These I called precious relics. Mrs. Skelton had replied that she would treat them with all the respect they deserved, but that she must confess to me she had not been able to resist the temptation of taking a small portion of them.
Sir Hudson Lowe could not account for my being either unable or unwilling to state what those precious objects were. I should be mortified if they should have brought any disagreeable consequences on this lady. I had merely kept the note in memory, and in token of respect for her. Mr. and Mrs. Skelton were a moral and virtuous couple, whom we had much injured, though undoubtedly against our wish; but their politeness and attention to us had constantly increased with the harm we did them. Our arrival in the island had caused their being dispossessed of Longwood, losing their situation, and being sent back to Europe, where they must be without a provision.
At last, after a time, the famous clandestine documents came out in their turn: my letter to Prince Lucien, and the one to my London acquaintance. Sir Hudson Lowe had caused them to be carefully copied, but with many chasms, from not having been able to read all, certain words being found effaced upon the satin, owing to the documents having been accidentally wetted since I had parted with them. I carried my complaisance and good nature so far as to restore them; and then a sort of interrogatory commenced.
The Governor’s attention was much engaged by two points, which he had it deeply at heart to clear up, if, he said, I had no objection to it. The first question was relative to these words of my letter to Prince Lucien: “Those who surround us complain bitterly that their letters are falsified in the public papers,” &c. It was asked of me who these persons were. The Aide-de-camp held his pen to take down my answers. I desired he would write that, seeing no inconvenience in answering, I would do so, but entirely of my own accord; for that, if the Governor thought to question by virtue of his authority, I should be silent; and I then said, “that those words of my letter were vague, general, and without any application whatever; that they were what had been said to us by every one, when they sought to console us for the very improper expressions or descriptions regarding us, which we occasionally found in the London papers, under the date of St. Helena.”
The Governor’s second question applied to my private letter. It contained, amongst others, a request to ask Lord Holland whether he had received the parcels I had directed to him. Sir Hudson Lowe inquired what those parcels were, and by whom I had forwarded them, &c.; and here he visibly redoubled the mildness of his deportment, in order to obtain a satisfactory answer, confessing that he had no right to compel me to reply; but it would be, he said, the means of materially expediting and simplifying my own affair, &c. I replied, rather in a solemn manner, that this point was my secret, which evidently created an impression upon the physiognomy of Sir Hudson Lowe; and, my words being taken down as I uttered them, I continued to dictate, adding that the answer I had just given was only that which my education and habits prompted me to give, that any other might have given rise to the Governor’s doubts, and that it was not proper I should expose the veracity of my words to the smallest suspicion; that, after this preliminary statement, however, I had no longer any objection to declare that I never, in all my life, had any communication with Lord Holland. This unexpected conclusion was a coup de théâtre, quite a comedy-scene; it would be difficult to describe the surprise of the Governor, the astonishment of the officers; the pen stopped in the writer’s hand. Sir Hudson Lowe did not hesitate to reply that he fully believed me, but that he must confess he could not understand the business at all. I confessed, in my turn, that I could not help laughing at the perplexity I caused him, but that I had told him all. The fact is, I had intended, when my servant should return, to intrust him besides with several authentic documents upon our situation, for Lord Holland: but I had not been allowed time for so doing; they had come too soon to take me away. I had the honour of knowing his Lordship only by the nobleness and dignity of his public conduct; but to transmit the truth to him, as an hereditary legislator of his country, and a member of the supreme court of Great Britain, appeared to me very proper in us both, and equally becoming and serviceable to the honour of the British character.
MY ANXIETIES.—A LETTER FROM THE EMPEROR,
A REAL BLESSING.
16th.—More than twenty days had elapsed, and nothing as yet announced any change in our dreadful situation. My son’s illness continued to exhibit the most alarming symptoms; my health was visibly declining through grief and anxiety. Our confinement was so strict that we had not yet heard a single word from Longwood; I was quite ignorant how my unfortunate affair had been interpreted there; I had merely learnt that the Emperor had not left his apartment during the last fifteen or eighteen days and had almost always taken his meals there alone. What did I not suffer from these circumstances! The Emperor had evidently been affected, but in what manner? Shall I own it? this doubt was, to me, a source of absolute torment; it haunted me at every moment since I had quitted Longwood: for the Emperor was perfectly ignorant of the cause of my being carried off; fate had so ordained it. What would he have thought, on hearing about my clandestine letters? What would have been his opinions, what motive would he assign to my disguise towards him; I, who from habit, would not have stirred a step, or hazarded an expression, without communicating with him? I coupled these faults, which I even exaggerated, with the affecting kindness of the last moments I had passed with him. Some minutes before I was torn away from him, he was more cheerful towards me, seemed even better disposed than usual; and, some moments later, he had perhaps been led to find something mysterious in my conduct. The appearance of the right of reproach and of doubt had perhaps already risen in his mind. This idea grieved me more than I could express, and visibly affected my health. Fortunately, the Governor came to restore me to life. He presented himself towards evening, appearing much taken up with what he had to tell me, and, after a long preamble, which it was difficult for me to understand, he concluded by informing me, that he held in his hand a letter, which my situation gave him the right to withhold from me; but that he knew how dear to me was the hand that wrote it, how much I valued the sentiments which it expressed, and that he was, therefore, going to shew it to me, notwithstanding the many personal motives he might have for not doing so! It was a letter from the Emperor!
Whatever harm Sir Hudson Lowe may have done to us, whatever his motives may have been, at this moment, I owe him a real obligation for the happiness he afforded me; and, when I recollect it, I am tempted to reproach myself for many details and certain imputations; but I owed them to truth, and to considerations of the highest importance. I shewed myself so much affected that he appeared to be moved by it, and consented to my request of being allowed to take a copy of what was strictly personal in the letter. My son copied it in a hurry, so much did we dread lest he should alter his mind; and when he left us, we re-copied it in many ways and in many places; we even learnt it by heart, so great was our fear that the night’s reflections might occasion Sir Hudson Lowe to repent. And, in fact, when he re-appeared the next morning, he expressed to me his regret on the subject; and I did not hesitate to offer to return to him the copy I had taken, assuring him that I should not feel the less grateful. We had ensured to ourselves the means of being generous without inconvenience. Whether he suspected that such was the case, or whether from a continuation of the same kindness, I know not; but he declined my offer. I shall now lay before the reader that letter, the original of which was kept by Sir Hudson Lowe, which he gave me his word should share the same fate as my other papers, and which I nevertheless had all possible trouble to obtain, when the English Government, after Napoleon’s death, thought that they could not avoid restoring my Journal to me. I shall transcribe here those passages of the letter which Sir Hudson Lowe allowed me to copy at the time, and such as they were published after my return to Europe; those parts which he kept back are thrown into the notes, at the bottom of the pages: the two together will form the whole of the original.
“My dear Count de Las Cases,—My heart is deeply affected by what you now experience. Torn from me a fortnight ago, you have been ever since closely confined, without the possibility of my receiving any news from you, or sending you any; without having had any communication with any person, either French or English; deprived even of the attendance of a servant of your own choice.
“Your conduct at St. Helena has been, like the whole of your life, honourable and irreproachable; I have pleasure in giving you this testimony.
“Your letter to one of your friends in London contains nothing reprehensible; you merely disburden your heart into the bosom of friendship.
[Half the letter was wanting here.[[24]]]
“Your company was necessary to me. You are the only one that can read, speak, and understand English. How many nights you have watched over me during my illnesses! However, I advise you, and if necessary, I order you, to demand of the Governor of this country to send you to the Continent; he cannot refuse, since he has no power over you, but by virtue of the act which you have voluntarily signed. It will be a great source of consolation to me to know that you are on your way to more favoured climes.
“Once in Europe, whether you proceed to England or return home, endeavour to forget the evils which you have been made to suffer; and boast of the fidelity which you have shewn towards me, and of all the affection I feel for you.
“If you should, some day or other, see my wife and son, embrace them for me; for the last two years, I have had no news from them, either directly or indirectly.
[Three or four lines were wanting here.[[25]]]
“In the mean time be comforted, and console my friends. My body, it is true, is exposed to the hatred of my enemies; they omit nothing that can contribute to satisfy their vengeance; they make me suffer the protracted tortures of a slow death; but Providence is too just to allow these sufferings to last much longer. The insalubrity of this dreadful climate, the want of every thing that tends to support life, will soon, I feel, put an end to my existence.
[Four or five lines were wanting here.[[26]]]
“As there is every reason to suppose that you will not be allowed to come and see me before your departure, receive my embrace, and the assurance of my friendship. May you be happy!
“Yours,
“NAPOLEON.”
“Longwood; 11th December, 1816.” */
REFLECTIONS ON THE EMPEROR’S LETTER.—NEW OBSTACLES
STARTED BY SIR HUDSON LOWE.
From Tuesday, Dec. 17th, to Thursday 19th, 1816.—The Emperor’s letter proved a source of real consolation to me. It was continually present in my thoughts; it dissipated my alarms, strengthened my resolution, and in short it rendered me truly happy. I read it carefully over and over again. I weighed every word it contained. From my own knowledge of the Emperor, I thought that I could guess how he had been induced to write it. I could conceive what would be his uneasiness respecting the cause of my removal, and his surprise on hearing of the clandestine correspondence. From his constant habit of considering things in every possible point of view, I felt convinced that his penetration had enabled him to discover precisely what had taken place, and that he had determined to write to me in consequence. My conjectures on all these points proved to be correct: for I afterwards learned that the Emperor, after some delay, had determined to write to me, without knowing what might be the nature of the papers which had caused my arrest.
Need I say how dearly I prized this letter! I who had so frequently heard the Emperor declare that he would not write to his wife, his mother, or his brothers, since he could not do so without having his letters opened and read by his jailers. But the letter to me had been opened with his own consent and with his own hands; for, after it was sent to Sir Hudson Lowe by the officer on guard, it was returned with the observation that it could not be delivered to me until it should be read and approved by the Governor. The Emperor was reclining on his sofa at the moment when the letter was brought back to him, with this new obstacle. He uttered not a word, but raising his hand over his head, he took the letter, broke the seal, and immediately returned it, without even looking at the person who had presented it.
Another circumstance which rendered this letter valuable in my eyes was that it bore the Emperor’s full signature; and I knew how much he disliked to sign his name at length, in the new circumstances in which he was placed. This, I believe, was the first time he had signed his name at full length since he had been at St. Helena, and, from an inspection of the original, it is easy to perceive that it cost him some degree of consideration. At first he wrote with his own hand, merely the date: “Longwood, December 11, 1816,” concluding with his usual cipher. But, conceiving this to be insufficient, he added, lower down: “your devoted Napoleon,” repeating his cipher. The whole bears evident traces of having been written under feelings of embarrassment.[[27]]
But the greatest satisfaction which the Emperor’s letter afforded me was that it pointed out precisely the course which I had previously determined on adopting. “I entreat you, and in case of urgency, I command you, to quit the island,” said the Emperor: and this was exactly what I had resolved to do, during the first days of my seclusion, while separated from all my friends, and having no counsellor but myself. I can no longer, I thought, be of any great service to the Emperor here; but I may, perhaps, be useful to him elsewhere. I will go to England, and appeal to the Ministers. They cannot suspect my conduct to be premeditated; seeing that I have been snatched, as it were, from sudden death. Whatever I say will evidently come from my heart. I will paint the truth, and they cannot but be touched with the miseries I shall unfold to them. They will ameliorate the condition of the illustrious captive, and I will myself return and lay at his feet the consolation which my zeal will have procured.
I therefore resumed my prayers and entreaties; and a circumstance which the more induced me to do so was that my son had just then been seized with a relapse, and had been for half an hour in a state of insensibility, without any other assistance than I was capable of affording him. My distress and anxiety may be easily conceived; and I was myself very much indisposed. I wrote a letter to the Governor, in which I said:—“You reduce me to the utmost possible misery. What a terrible responsibility you are taking upon yourself! You are a father; and alarms like those which now distress me may, perhaps, one day remind you of my unavailing entreaties.” It was evident that, by detaining us, he was hurrying us to our graves. I was unable to conceive what could induce him thus to involve himself in new difficulties; it appeared to me most natural that he should prefer letting us die elsewhere.
Sir Hudson Lowe called that very day. He said that the note he had received respecting my son’s health was the occasion of his visit. He had sent for Dr. Baxter, who arrived soon after him.
In the course of a long conversation, I could very well discern that Sir Hudson Lowe had now some secret object in view with respect to me. We reciprocally sounded each other on various points; and the Governor concluded by observing that he could not send me back to England, because I insisted on carrying my Journal along with me; while, on the other hand, it was claimed by the Emperor, as it had been written by his order. The cunning and absurdity of this reasoning were sufficiently obvious. Then, as if seized by a sudden thought and a momentary feeling of condescension, he added that, if I wished to return to Longwood, he would very willingly agree to it. I trembled to hear this.... However, recollecting the letter and the significant words of the Emperor, I replied that, though the idea of returning to Longwood was wholly contrary to my present intention, yet, if the Emperor expressed a desire to that effect, I should immediately change my resolution. Sir Hudson Lowe observed that he had good reason to believe the Emperor did wish for my return. The Governor’s thoughts were evidently occupied with some new scheme or other respecting me; but I could not guess what it was. I signified that it would be necessary for me to write to Longwood, to learn what were the Emperor’s wishes. To this the Governor did not positively object, but he expressed himself with the utmost obscurity. At length he departed; at least I supposed him gone. He had, however, merely withdrawn for a time, to hold a conference with his confidential officer; after which he came to inform me that, having considered the business, he thought it advisable for me to write to the Grand Marshal on the subject of my return to Longwood, at the same time observing that, according to the manner in which I might express myself in my letter, the Emperor would or would not be induced to signify a wish for my return. This was very certain, and I could not but smile at the observation.
OFFICIAL DECISION RESPECTING MY REMOVAL TO THE
CAPE.—CONDUCT OF SIR HUDSON LOWE.
20th, 21st.—Sir Hudson Lowe, harassed by my incessant appeals to him, and perplexed by the awkward situation in which he had placed himself, began apparently to repent of having made so much noise about so trifling a matter. He evidently wished to see me return to the Emperor, which of course would have relieved him of all embarrassment, and would have put an end to the whole business. Consequently, with the view of inducing me the more speedily to adopt this step, the Governor addressed to me the official decision respecting my removal to the Cape of Good Hope; and this document he accompanied by a letter in which he once more mentioned, in very studied language, the facility he afforded me of returning to Longwood. I have avoided, as far as possible, inserting the documents connected with this correspondence, and have abridged several of my own letters through the fear of fatiguing the reader. However, it is proper that I should produce all that is necessary for the explanation of this affair, and I therefore subjoin the official decision, and the letter to which I have just alluded.