But, my Lord, what is, after all, my crime? I demand what can be the motive of so cruel a persecution? and the countries in which that persecution has been continued by the impulse which you have given, unite with me in demanding it. Every where the authorities, who have exercised their jurisdiction over my person, have carefully avoided seeing me. The rights which I possessed would have embarrassed them, and they could not have assigned any motive for their acts. They are ignorant of the origin and of the cause of them. From the Cape of Good Hope to the place where I now am, whenever I have asked what sentence had been pronounced, what charge had been preferred against me, I have been answered by the production of an order; and when I have required a motive to be assigned, I have received no answer at all.
My Lord, I had the honour of addressing to you from the Cape the following observations, which I now repeat:—What rational objection can be raised against the wish which I expressed to inhabit your country, and to reside among you? Was it feared that I should converse and write upon political subjects? But if I had, what inconvenience could result therefrom to England? Was it feared that I should publish unwelcome complaints respecting your administration? But is there a spot on the Continent where I am forbidden to give vent to those complaints, and where I should not find every body disposed to listen to them? Placed on your own territory, and within your reach, was not that the situation in which you would have had the surest hold upon me, and the greatest authority over me? If I became guilty, had you not your general laws? If I became obnoxious, had you not your private laws; and, moreover, your Alien Bill? Lastly, and above all, you had, as a pledge of my reserve and moderation, my wish to remain near you. That wish was great, my Lord, and I will tell you why. My residence in England would have enabled me to fulfil the hopes and the destiny of my life, by devoting myself for ever to procure (consistently with your regulations, and through the legal channel allowed by you) some consolations and comforts for him for whom I mourn. I suppose, my Lord, that you and your colleagues have a sufficient degree of elevation of mind to fulfil, on this occasion, a political duty, and at the same time, to remain strangers to all motives of personal animosity. Having secured the safe custody of the captive, you cannot grudge the enjoyment of any indulgence that is not a burden to you; you will, on the contrary, facilitate the means of his obtaining them. I implore, therefore, to be allowed to undertake the sacred duty of bestowing them; my heart feels the want of fulfilling it: I will do it in good faith. I should have convinced you, my Lord, had I been able to see you, and I do not despair yet; I still solicit again....
I had also considered, my Lord, I must confess, that another chance of my admission existed in the wish which your Lordship must have felt to take advantage of so favourable an opportunity to learn the truth. I thought that both your situation and your character would prompt you to do so. And what conflicting evidence would you not thus have obtained to direct you in your noble functions as jury! I should have replied to all your questions with candour and without passion; I should have convinced you quietly, if you had wished it, of all the errors in which the multiplicity and importance of your affairs compel you to remain with respect to us. I have read in three different papers, the Times, the New Times, and the London Chronicle, your answer to Lord Holland, on his motion relative to St. Helena; and I can assure you that almost every line of it is founded on error.
God forbid, my Lord, that I should suspect that you do not believe yourself what you state! But your information has been erroneous. Your Lordship has affirmed, for instance, that none of the relations of the Emperor Napoleon had written to him; whereas I myself delivered to him three or four letters, sent by you through Sir Hudson Lowe, from Madame Mère, from the Princess Borghese, and from his brother Lucien. The fact in itself, my Lord, is unimportant; but the want of accuracy on this point must excite your doubts upon others, and corroborate, in some degree, my assertions upon the remainder. Again, that part of your speech concerning myself is so garbled that, notwithstanding the unfavourable prejudice which I have a right to entertain against Sir Hudson Lowe, I am persuaded that he will himself exclaim against the incorrectness of the statement. Be that as it may, my Lord, in the heat of opposition, and of conflicting parties, two true conclusions are invariably drawn from the same fact, and my conclusion cannot possibly be precisely yours. The public are aware of this, and would therefore have wished to establish theirs upon official documents. But you have thought proper to refuse to produce these documents; will you not have thereby fixed public opinion?
My Lord, it is time to sum up, after so long a statement.
1.—I demand justice and redress for the abuse of power, the arbitrary and tyrannic act, by which Lord Charles Somerset deprived me of my liberty during so long a period, and in direct violation of the laws of his country.
2.—I demand justice and redress for the irregular forms with which all my papers have been seized in the Thames, without an inventory having been made of them, notwithstanding all my remonstrances.
3.—I demand justice and redress for having been sent to the Continent as a captive, in open violation of all principles, and, in consequence of an impulse given, or instructions transmitted, obliged to pass through the Netherlands and adjacent countries as a malefactor.
4.—I demand the examination and prompt restitution of my papers seized in the Thames. Most of them had been respected by Sir Hudson Lowe, and others are absolutely necessary to me in the daily occurrences of my domestic affairs; they contain all my titles of property and fortune; without them I am deprived of every thing.
5.—I demand the restitution of my papers of St. Helena, the inventory of which, duly certified and signed by Sir Hudson Lowe, is amongst the papers that have been seized in the Thames. My papers of St. Helena consist almost solely of a manuscript, in which are recorded, day by day, during eighteen months, but as yet confusedly, and without being settled, the conversations, the words, and perhaps even the gestures, of him who so long guided the destinies of Europe.