The midshipmen of the Bellerophon were in the habit of occasionally performing plays, to amuse themselves and the officers during the tedious operations of a blockade. Buonaparte being told of it by Savary, requested that they would oblige him by acting one for his amusement. During the performance, Madame Bertrand sat next to him, and interpreted. He appeared much amused, and laughed very heartily at our ladies, who were personated by great strapping fellows dressed in women's clothes, and not in the most tidy fashion. He had the patience to remain to the end of the third act, though, when attending the Opera at Paris, he had always retired at the end of the first.
I heard several of the French officers discussing the merits of the British troops. One of them said, "The cavalry is superb." I observed, "In England we have a higher opinion of our infantry." "You are right," said he; "there is none such in the world: there is no making an impression on them: you may as well attempt to charge through a wall: and their fire is tremendous." Another of them observed: "A great fault in your cavalry is their not having their horses sufficiently under command: there must be something wrong in the bit, as on one or two occasions in a charge, they could not stop their horses: our troops opened to the right and left, let them pass through, and then closed their ranks again, when they were either killed or taken prisoners."
I never heard Buonaparte speak of the battle of Waterloo, or give an opinion of the Duke of Wellington; but I asked General Bertrand what Napoleon thought of him. "Why," replied he, "I will give you his opinion nearly in the words he delivered it to me. 'The Duke of Wellington, in the management of an army, is fully equal to myself, with the advantage of possessing more prudence.'"
During the time that Buonaparte was on board the Bellerophon, we always lived expressly for his accommodation—entirely in the French manner; that is to say, a hot meal was served at ten o'clock in the morning, and another at six in the evening; and so nearly did they resemble each other in all respects, that a stranger might have found difficulty, in coming into the cabin, to distinguish breakfast from dinner. His maître d'hôtel took the joints off the table, cut them up in portions, and then handed them round. Buonaparte ate a great deal, and generally of strong solid food: in drinking he was extremely abstemious, confining himself almost entirely to claret, and seldom taking more than half-a-pint at a meal. Immediately after dinner, strong coffee was handed round, and then some cordial; after which he rose from table, the whole meal seldom lasting more than twenty or twenty-five minutes: and I was told, that during the time he was at the head of the French Government, he never allowed more than fifteen minutes for that purpose.
After he had quitted the ship, being desirous to know the feeling of the ship's company towards him, I asked my servant what the people said of him. "Why, Sir," he answered, "I heard several of them conversing together about him this morning; when one of them observed, 'Well, they may abuse that man as much as they please; but if the people of England knew him as well as we do, they would not hurt a hair of his head;' in which the others agreed." This was the more extraordinary, as he never went through the ship's company but once, immediately after his coming on board, when I attended him, and he did not speak to any of the men; merely returning their salute by pulling off his hat; and in consequence of his presence, they suffered many privations, such as not being allowed to see their wives and friends, or to go on shore, having to keep watch in port, &c.; and when he left the ship, the only money he distributed was twenty Napoleons to my steward, fifteen to one of the under-servants, and ten to the cook.
It may, perhaps, be interesting to give a slight sketch of the principal persons who accompanied Buonaparte to the Bellerophon; premising, that I do not pretend to be minutely correct in the view I took of them: the trying circumstances in which these unfortunate men were placed, being such as required more than common temper; and I think it very doubtful, whether, in the same situation, Englishmen would have maintained equal forbearance.
Count Bertrand was a man of about forty-four years of age, five feet ten inches in height, of a slight make and prepossessing appearance: his manners extremely placid and gentle, though evidently of a warm temper; and showed himself rather hasty in his conduct to Sir George Cockburn, about searching the baggage; as Sir George was not acting upon his own authority, but by the directions of his superiors, and was inclined to conduct himself with as much consideration as his orders would admit. He was an affectionate attentive husband, and much attached to his children.
The Countess Bertrand was then of a tall, slight figure. Her maiden name was Dillon; her father was an Irishman in the French service, who lost his life during the revolution, and was related to Lord Dillon. Though, perhaps, a little warm, she has undoubtedly many excellent qualities: she showed herself to be a kind mother and affectionate wife; and if she easily took offence, she as easily forgot it; and any little dispute that occurred between her and me, was amply atoned for by the frank and affectionate manner in which she took leave when we were about to part, perhaps for ever.[13] They had, at the time I speak of, three fine children,—two boys and a girl; the eldest boy about five years of age, who seemed to have a natural turn for the profession of his father: his constant amusement, in which the young lady and little Montholon joined, was forming lines and squares, and other military evolutions, on the quarter-deck.
General Savary, Duc de Rovigo, was a tall handsome man, then about forty-six years of age, of a cheerful disposition; and notwithstanding the alarm he was in lest he should be given up to the French Government, he never forgot himself so far as to make use of a rude expression in my presence. He was Minister of Police after Fouché. As a great deal had been said about Captain Wright's death, I spoke to him one day upon the subject, and told him it was generally believed in England that he had been murdered: he said, "I took much pains in investigating that matter, and in ascertaining the cause of his death; and I have not a doubt that he cut his own throat in a fit of delirium." Neither Savary nor Lallemand were allowed to accompany Buonaparte to St Helena; but on the Bellerophon's return to Plymouth, after transferring Napoleon to the Northumberland, both of them, together with Planat and the other officers with the exception of three, were, by an order from the Admiralty, sent on board the Eurotas frigate, which conveyed them to Malta, from whence, after remaining some time as prisoners in Fort St Angelo, they were allowed to proceed to Smyrna.
General Lallemand[14] was about forty-two years of age, of a thick strong make; his manners not pleasing, and his appearance by no means prepossessing. During the whole time he was in the Bellerophon, he was morose and abstracted, and seemed much alarmed lest he should be given up to the French Government; and there can be little doubt, had he fallen into its power, he would have shared the fate of Ney, as he had, with the troops under his command, joined Napoleon on his return from Elba. He had formerly been, for several years, one of Buonaparte's aide-de-camps, and during the time he was in the Bellerophon always did that duty in rotation with Montholon and Gourgaud; one of them sleeping in his clothes on a mattress every night outside of the door of the cabin he slept in. The other two aide-de-camps, Generals Montholon and Gourgaud, were young men about thirty-two years of age, the former an officer in the cavalry, and the other in the artillery: they were both of good families; but their attachment to Buonaparte induced them to give up their country and property to follow him.