‘The grace of his smile and the simplicity of his manner,’ says Ebrington, ‘had put me quite at my ease. He himself appeared to wish me to question him. He replied without the least hesitation, with a promptitude and clearness which I have never seen equalled in any other man.’
Next day, just as Ebrington was preparing to sail, came an invitation to dinner, and this second interview lasted from seven till eleven. Napoleon inquired for the Duke and Duchess of Bedford, Whitworth, Erskine, and Holland, and spoke especially of Fox. Informed that Fox felt much flattered at his reception in 1802, Napoleon said, ‘He had reason to be so. He was everywhere received like a divinity because he was known to be in favour of peace.’ ‘Tell Lord Grenville,’ added Napoleon, ‘to come and see me. I wager that you in England thought me a devil, but now that you have seen me and France also you must be somewhat disabused.’ He justified the detentions of 1803. Ebrington, however, maintained that the embargo on French shipping in British ports prior to the formal declaration of war was in accordance with precedent, on which Napoleon replied, ‘Yes, you considered it right because it was to your advantage; other nations who lost by it thought it wrong. I am sure that at heart you in England approved me for showing force of character. Do you not see that I am a bit of a pirate like yourselves?’
Napoleon half in earnest advocated polygamy, especially in the colonies, where a planter might have a wife of each colour, so that the two families might grow up together harmoniously. He inquired for ‘my good friend Ussher’—Captain, afterwards Sir Thomas Ussher—who had conveyed him to Elba.
On surprise being expressed by Ebrington at his calm endurance of adversity, Napoleon said, ‘It is because everybody was more surprised at it than myself. I have not too good an opinion of mankind, and have always distrusted fortune. Moreover, I had little enjoyment. My brothers were much more kings than I was. They tasted the sweets of royalty, while I had only the worries and cares.’[298]
Lord John Russell, the future statesman, then twenty-three years of age, being taken by his father to Florence in the autumn of 1814, embraced the opportunity of visiting Elba. ‘When I saw Napoleon,’ he says, ‘he was in evident anxiety respecting the state of France and his chances of again seizing the crown which he had worn for ten years. I was so struck with his restless inquiry that I expressed in a letter to my brother in England my conviction that he would make some fresh attempts to disturb France and govern Europe.’[299]
But by far the most curious incident of Napoleon’s reign at Elba was his presence at an entertainment in honour of George III.’s birthday, given on the 4th June 1814 by Captain Tower on board the frigate Undaunted. Napoleon, on reaching Fréjus after his abdication in April, had embarked in the Undaunted in preference to a French vessel assigned for his passage to Elba, and had taken a fancy to the captain, Ussher. The Undaunted went to and from Elba and Leghorn, and it might have celebrated the royal birthday at the latter port. Napoleon afterwards thought that Colonel (ultimately Sir Neil) Campbell purposely planned the celebration at Elba. When, however, Towers invited him to come on board, and sent round invitations to the principal inhabitants of Porto Ferrajo, he readily accepted the invitation, and directed his courtiers, if such a phrase can be used, to do likewise. One of these, Pons de l’Hérault, to whom we are indebted for the fullest account of the festival—not published, however, till 1897[300]—was inclined indeed to regard the invitation as an insult and the festival as a bravado; but his master told him that it was the duty of British sailors to observe their sovereign’s birthday wherever they might happen to be. A ‘throne,’ says Pons, had been prepared for the Emperor on the bridge; and he continues:—
‘The Emperor arrived, and the ship’s officers received him at the top of the ladder. Guns could not be fired, as they were not mounted, but the crew, clustered on the rigging, gave him three hearty cheers, and the Emperor looking up at them raised his hat. He then passed to the quarter-deck. There all were ranged in a circle, and the Emperor, as though quite at home, his left hand as usual in his fob, put the trivial questions which he nearly always employed on such occasions, for he did not bother himself with finding remarks appropriate to each particular individual. It was not his moment for parade. When the circle had broken up the Emperor asked for an interpreter and went to talk to the sailors, especially to a mate with whom he had several times conversed during his passage from Fréjus to the isle of Elba. The entire crew seemed eager to see him again. The countenances of these good fellows expressed the very contrary of the perversity of their Government. Captain Tower sincerely admired the Emperor, and watched all his movements with a gaze full of respect and interest. He had one of those open countenances which inspire confidence. The Emperor said to me ... “The English Government will never forgive me for having been the most determined Frenchman in breaking down its supremacy. Not that hatred actuated me, it was duty, it was love of country.[301]
All well-bred Englishmen consequently honour me. If I went to England the English Government would be afraid of my popularity and would pack me off.” ... The same cheers accompanied the Emperor on his departure, and he responded with the same salute.’[302]
Pons, with his wife and children and the other guests, remained to the dinner and ball. Unfortunately, two of the ship’s officers drank a little too much, and so misbehaved themselves as to oblige several of the ladies to withdraw. It is pathetic to think that Napoleon’s next and last acquaintance with British tars was when, thirteen months later, he gave himself up to the Bellerophon, and was conveyed as a captive in the Northumberland to St. Helena.
One Englishman at least was a spectator of Napoleon’s departure from Elba. A Mr. Grattan (probably the father of Thomas Colley Grattan, the traveller and novelist) had landed on the island on the 24th February. On the evening of the 26th he noticed unusual bustle, as though something was about to happen, and at 9 P.M. he saw Napoleon, escorted by General Bertrand, come out in his sister Pauline’s four-horse carriage, enter a boat, and go on board the brig Inconstant. Thereupon the whole flotilla got under way, the soldiers shouting ‘Vive l’Empereur!’ Scarcely believing his eyes, Grattan hired a boat to go alongside the brig, and thence he saw Napoleon in his grey overcoat and round hat pacing the quarter-deck. One of the boatmen, however, cried out that there was an Englishman on board, upon which an officer on the poop of the Inconstant demanded who he was and what he wanted. Grattan had to explain that he had merely come to have a look at the Emperor, whereupon he was told to be off, and he complied with alacrity, expecting every instant to be fired at or arrested.[303]