This perhaps ought to be the conclusion of my Journal since I am now removed from St. Helena, and can no longer record the words of the Emperor. However, the following pages are so intimately connected with what concerns Napoleon that I am convinced I need offer no apology for continuing.
PASSAGE FROM ST. HELENA TO THE CAPE, A SPACE
OF EIGHTEEN DAYS.—DETAILS, &C.
From Tuesday, Dec. 31st, 1816, to Friday, Jan. 17th, 1817.—When daylight appeared, St. Helena no longer existed for us, except in our hearts.—We were rapidly sailing away from that dear and accursed spot, in the midst of the ocean, and at an immense distance from both the old and the new world. The officers and the crew treated us with the most marked kindness; their care, their attention, their deference, the sympathy they expressed were such that, but for the language which I heard spoken, I might have fancied myself on board a French vessel. To the shyness and circumspection of St. Helena had succeeded a complete freedom from restraint. I then learnt how much I was indebted to Admiral Malcolm. It was he who had obtained for me the favour of a brig of war, instead of the wretched transport with which I had been threatened. As soon as he was apprized of Sir Hudson Lowe’s determination, he hastened to offer him one of his ships, assuring him that he could spare one, to save me from the inconveniences and the privations to which I should otherwise be exposed; and, making a signal, he ordered into the harbour the Griffin, the commander of which was one of the officers whom he most liked. It has already been seen that the Admiral brought him with him to see me.
My son devoted part of our passage to copying some papers which we had purposely torn, and the fragments of which we had distributed in various places amongst our baggage, or about our persons. Sir Hudson Lowe had rendered the precaution necessary, by informing me a short time before that he should again search my papers before my departure, in order to see what I might have written during my captivity.
The most important of these papers, the document I valued most, was what I have called a statement of our grievances at Longwood.
Whilst I was in Sir Hudson Lowe’s power, our conversations led me, at his own request, to make out a hasty statement enumerating our grievances. My son’s ill health, and the state of my eyes, prevented us from taking a fair copy of that statement for ourselves. I had asked the Governor to let me have some person to copy for me, which request he did not comply with, and I did not think it delicate to insist; since it was to lay before him a statement, which must be very unpleasant to him. On the other hand, as I was speaking without the knowledge of my companions, and yet frequently in their names, it was of great importance to me that they should be acquainted with what I said, in order to set me right if I had made any errors.
At the moment of my departure, I told Sir Hudson Lowe that I had completed the statement, and shewed him the parcel sealed, the contents of which, I said, I proposed to have copied at the Cape, or even on board the brig, and to send him two copies, one for himself and one for Longwood. Sir Hudson appeared to value the offer very much, but preferring, however, another arrangement, it was agreed that I should immediately deposit my manuscript in the hands of a third person, in order that each party might take a copy of it, and that the original should afterwards be returned to me. I therefore sought some person whose honourable disposition inspired me with confidence: General Bingham, the second in command in the Island, was the first person I thought of. To him I therefore addressed my manuscript, with the Governor’s consent, and under the express condition that it should be shewn at the same time to Sir Hudson Lowe and to Count Bertrand, who was aware of the arrangement.
I heard no more of this statement until six years afterwards, and then only through the medium of Dr. O’Meara’s work. The gentlemen of the Emperor’s suite, on their return from St. Helena, informed me that it had never been communicated to them, and that the Emperor was wholly ignorant of its contents. It appears that, after my departure, Sir Hudson Lowe, by the influence of his authority, and contrary to our express conditions, had taken the manuscript exclusively into his own possession, and had made it the subject of false interpretations or wicked inventions.
Mr. O’Meara, in his account of the occurrences at St. Helena, observes that Sir H. Lowe, availing himself of the information acquired by the perusal of the manuscript (the grievances), had recourse to an artifice well worthy of the system which he set on foot. He directed Mr. O’Meara to inform Napoleon that, during my confinement, I had confessed that the restrictions imposed on the French at Longwood were merely matters of form; and that I, as well as the rest of the French, had endeavoured to poison the mind of our Master, by means of calumny and falsehood; adding that this fact was unquestionable, since he had it stated in my own hand-writing. He even pretended to quote a sentence of this manuscript, which he requested Mr. O’Meara to repeat to the Emperor, and by which he wished to make it appear that I had confessed that the French about the person of the Emperor had made him view every thing through a blood-stained veil. On hearing this, the Emperor observed: Certainly, wherever one sees an executioner, one sees blood. And he added that he was convinced this was an invention of Sir Hudson Lowe’s, or a misrepresentation of some passage in my statement. On this occasion, Mr. O’Meara describes the Emperor to have said,[said,] “Las Cases certainly was greatly irritated against him (Sir H. Lowe), and contributed materially towards forming the impression existing upon my mind, because Las Cases is a man of feeling, and extremely sensible to the ill treatment practised towards me and himself. But I had no occasion for the assistance of Las Cases towards giving me that opinion, as the treatment I experienced was fully sufficient in itself to create it.”
He observed that I had constantly spoken to him of the English nation in terms of enthusiasm and admiration; though I certainly had expressed myself candidly and energetically respecting the treatment which the French had experienced at St. Helena, which I considered to be entirely contrary to the generosity and liberal sentiments of the English people.