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?