About half past nine, we set out from the Briars on our return to Longwood; it was very dark. A heavy rain had come on, which was as sharp and cutting as hail. We had a most disagreeable, troublesome, and dangerous ride, being every moment on the point of being precipitated into some abyss or other, for we were obliged to gallop on at random without seeing where we were going. We arrived at Longwood drenched to the skin.
The Emperor had given orders that I should attend him on my return. He was well, but he had stayed at home as he had done yesterday. He said he had been waiting for me, and had many things to tell me.
On learning that the Governor had arrived, he admitted him into his chamber, though he was not dressed, and was unable to rise from his couch. He said he had discussed with him, in perfect composure, all the points which naturally presented themselves to his mind. He spoke of protesting against the treaty of the second of August, in which the Allied Sovereigns declared him an exile and a prisoner. He asked what right these Sovereigns had to dispose of him, without his consent, him who was their equal, and had sometimes been their master. He said, if he had thought proper to withdraw to Russia, Alexander, who styled himself his friend, and who never had any but political disputes with him, would if he had not upheld him as a king, at least have treated him as one. This the Governor could not deny. He said, had he thought proper to take refuge in Austria, the Emperor Francis could not, without disgracing himself, have denied him admission not only to his empire, but even to his house and his family, of which he, Napoleon, was a member. This the Governor also admitted.
“Lastly,” said the Emperor, “if, relying on my own individual interests, I had persisted in defending them in France by force of arms, there is no doubt that the Allies would have formally granted me immense advantages, perhaps even territory.” The Governor, who hesitated for some time on this point, at length agreed that there was no doubt the Emperor might with ease have obtained a Sovereignty. “I did not wish it,” continued the Emperor: “I determined on abandoning public affairs; indignant at beholding the leading men in France betraying their country, or at least committing the grossest errors with regard to her interests; indignant at finding that the mass of the representatives preferred disgrace to death, and stooped to traffic with that sacred independence, which, like honour, should be a rocky and inaccessible island. In this state of things what did I determine on? What resolution did I adopt? I sought an asylum in a country which was supposed to be governed by laws: among a people, of whom for twenty years I had been the bitterest enemy! But what did you do?... Your conduct will be recorded in history to your eternal disgrace. Yet there is an avenging Providence; sooner or later you will receive your punishment! It will not be long before your posterity, your laws, will expiate your crime!... Your ministers have sufficiently proved, by their instructions, that they wish to get rid of me! Why did not the Kings who proscribed me openly decree my death? One act would have been as legal as the other! A speedy termination to my sufferings would have shown more energy than the lingering death to which they have doomed me. The Calabrians have been more humane, more generous than the Allied Sovereigns or your Ministers. I will not die by my own hands. That would be an act of cowardice. To overcome misfortune is a proof of a noble and courageous mind! We mortals are bound to fulfil our destinies. But if it be intended to keep me here, I feel that you would be doing me a kindness in depriving me of life; for here I daily suffer the agonies of death! The limits of St. Helena are too narrow for me, who was every day accustomed to ride, ten, fifteen, or twenty leagues on horseback. The climate is not like ours: neither the sun nor the seasons are like what we have been accustomed to. Every thing here is hostile to happiness and comfort. The situation is disagreeable and unwholesome, and is destitute of water. This part of the island is totally barren and has been deserted by the inhabitants.”
The Governor stated that his instructions required that the Emperor should be restricted to certain limits in his rides, and that an officer should always accompany him. “If they had been thus enforced,” replied the Emperor, “I should never have left my chamber. If your instructions will not admit of greater latitude, you can henceforth do nothing for us. However, I neither ask nor wish for any thing. Convey these sentiments to the English Government.”
“This,” said the Governor, “is the consequence of transmitting instructions from so great a distance, and with regard to a person of whom those who draw up the instructions know so little.” He then endeavoured to shift the question by intimating that, on the arrival of the wooden house or palace, which was on its way to St. Helena, better plans might perhaps be adopted: that a vessel was expected, bringing furniture and stores of provisions, which it was supposed would be agreeable to the Emperor; that the English Government was exerting every effort to alleviate his situation, &c.
The Emperor replied that all their efforts amounted to little; that he had requested to be furnished with the Morning Chronicle and the Statesman, that he might read what related to himself under the least disagreeable forms: but his request had never been complied with. He had asked for books, which were his only consolation; but nine months had passed away, and he had not received any. He had desired to obtain intelligence of his wife and son; but this had been withheld from him.
“As to the provisions, the furniture, and the house, that are intended for me,” continued he, “you and I, Sir, are soldiers; we know how to value these things. You have been in my native city, perhaps in the very house occupied by my family. Though it was not the worst on the island—though I have no reason to be ashamed of my family circumstances, yet you know what they were. But though I have occupied a throne, and have disposed of crowns, I have not forgotten my first condition; my couch and my camp-bed, you see, are still sufficient for me.”
The Governor observed that the wooden palace and all its accompaniments were at least an attention. “For your own satisfaction, in the eyes of Europe,” replied the Emperor, “but to me they are matters of perfect indifference. It is not a house, nor furniture, that should have been sent to me: but an executioner and a coffin. The former are a mockery, the latter would be a favour. I say, again, the instructions of your ministers tend to this result, and I invoke it. The Admiral, who is not an ill-disposed man, appears to me now to have softened these instructions; I do not complain of his acts: his forms alone offended me.” Here the Governor asked whether he had unconsciously committed any faults. “No, Sir, we complain of nothing since your arrival. Yet one act has offended us, and that is your inspection of our domestics. It was insulting to M. de Montholon, by appearing to throw suspicion on his integrity; and it was petty, disagreeable, and insulting towards me, and perhaps degrading to the English General himself, who thus came to interfere between me and my valet de chambre.”
The Governor was seated in an arm-chair on one side of the Emperor, who had remained stretched on his couch. It was dark, the evening was drawing in, and it was not easy to distinguish objects. “Therefore,” observed the Emperor, “it was in vain that I endeavoured to watch the play of his features, and to observe the impression which my words made on him.”