Transcriber’s Note:

Footnotes have been collected at the end of each chapter, and are linked for ease of reference.

Minor errors, attributable to the printer, have been corrected. Please see the transcriber’s [note] at the end of this text for details regarding the handling of any textual issues encountered during its preparation.

This is the first of four volumes, which can be found at Project Gutenberg here:

The cover image has been created, based on title page information, and is added to the public domain.

Corrections made to the text will appear as correction, which serve as links to the corresponding entry in the end notes. The original text can be viewed when the cursor is placed over the correction.

Corrections made to the text will appear as correction, which serve as links to the corresponding entry in the end notes.

The List of Illustrations includes those of the following three volumes, which cannot be directly accessed here.

David. Cooper.
NAPOLEON.
Published for Henry Colburn, Nov.^r 17, 1835.

MEMOIRS
OF
THE LIFE, EXILE,
AND
CONVERSATIONS,
OF THE
EMPEROR NAPOLEON.

BY

THE COUNT DE LAS CASES.

A NEW EDITION.

WITH PORTRAITS

AND NUMEROUS OTHER EMBELLISHMENTS.

VOL. I.

LONDON:

PUBLISHED FOR HENRY COLBURN,

BY RICHARD BENTLEY; BELL AND BRADFUTE, EDINBURGH; J. CUMMING, DUBLIN;

AND ALL BOOKSELLERS.

MDCCCXXXVI.

ANDOVER:

STEREOTYPED AND PRINTED BY B BENSLEY.

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

PREFACE.

Circumstances the most extraordinary have long kept me near the most extraordinary man that ever existed. Admiration made me follow him, without knowing him, and when I did know him, love alone would have fixed me for ever near his person. The world is full of his glory, his deeds, and his monuments; but no one knows the true shades of his character, his private qualities, or the natural disposition of his soul. This great void I undertake to fill up, and for such a task I possess advantages unexampled in history.

I collected and recorded, day by day, all that I saw of Napoleon, all that I heard him say, during the period of eighteen months in which I was constantly about his person. In these conversations, which were full of confidence, and which seemed to pass, as it were, in another world, he could not fail to be portrayed by himself as if in a mirror, in every point of view, and under every aspect. Henceforth the world may freely study him: there can be no error in the materials.

Count Las Cases.

MEMOIRS

OF

THE EMPEROR NAPOLEON.

INTRODUCTION.

It is my intention to record daily all that the Emperor Napoleon did or said while I was about his person; but, before I begin my diary, I hope to be excused for offering a few preliminary remarks, which may not be altogether useless.

I never commenced the perusal of any historical work without first wishing to know the character of the author, his situation in society, and his political and domestic relations; in fact, all the important circumstances of his life; conceiving that nothing but a knowledge of these matters could furnish a key to his writings, or a safe ground of confidence in his statements. I therefore proceed to supply in my turn that which I always sought for in others; and, in presenting this diary, to relate a few facts respecting my past life.

I was scarcely twenty-one years of age when the Revolution broke out, and had just been made a Lieutenant de Vaisseau, which corresponded with the rank of a field officer in the line: my family was at court, and I had been recently presented there myself. I was not rich; but my name and rank in life, together with my professional prospects, were likely, according to the notions and views of the times, to enable me to marry according to my wishes. It was at such a moment that our political troubles burst forth.

One of the principal vices in our system of admission to the service was that of depriving us of the benefits of a solid and finished education. Withdrawn from school at the early age of fourteen, abandoned from that instant to ourselves, and launched as it were on a wide waste, how was it possible to attain the slightest notion of social organization, public rights, or the duties of civil life?

Thus, prompted by noble prejudice, rather than by a just sense of duty, above all, led on by a natural fondness for generous resolves, I was amongst the first to hasten abroad and join our Princes; to save, as it was said, the monarch from revolutionary fury, and to defend our hereditary rights, which we could not, it was asserted, yet abandon without shame. From the mode in which we had been educated, it required either a very strong head or a very weak mind to resist the torrent.

The emigration soon became general; this fatal measure is but too well known to Europe; nor can its folly, as a political blunder and a social crime, find any excuse in the present day, except in the unenlightened but upright character of most of those by whom it was undertaken.

Defeated on our own frontiers, discharged and disbanded by foreigners, rejected and proscribed by the laws of our country, numbers of us reached England, whose Ministers lost no time in landing us on the shore of Quiberon. Being so fortunate as not to disembark, I had, after my return, time to reflect on the horrible alternative of fighting against our country under foreign banners; and, from this moment, my ideas, principles, and projects were either disconcerted or entirely changed.

Despairing of events, abandoning the world and my natural sphere, I devoted myself to study; and, under a borrowed name, went through a second course of education in attempting to assist that of others.

After a lapse of some years, the treaty of Amiens, and the amnesty offered by the First Consul, re-opened to us the gates of France. I had no longer any property there: the laws had disposed of my patrimony; but can any thing make us forget our native soil, or destroy the charm of breathing the air of our own country!

I hurried back, and was grateful for a pardon, rendered more acceptable since I could say with pride that I received it without having any motives of self-reproach. When monarchy was proclaimed soon after, my situation and sentiments were of a most singular kind. I found myself a soldier punished for a cause that had triumphed. Every day brought us back to our former ideas: all that had been dear to our principles and prejudices was renewed; and yet delicacy and honour rendered it a kind of duty in us to keep at a distance.

It was in vain that the new government loudly proclaimed the union of all parties; and equally so that its chief had declared he would no longer recognise any but Frenchmen in France; in vain had old friends and former companions offered me the advantages of a new career to be chosen by myself. Unable to subdue the conflicting feelings which agitated my mind, I obstinately persevered in a system of self-denial; and, devoting all my time to literature, I composed under a feigned name, an historical work that re-established my fortune; after which I passed five or six of the happiest years of my life.

Meanwhile, unprecedented events succeeded each other with extraordinary rapidity: they were of such a nature, and bore so peculiar a character, that it became impossible for any person whose heart possessed the least predilection for whatever was great or noble to view them with indifference. The glory of our country was raised to a pitch unknown in the history of any other people: the administration of affairs was unexampled, not less by its energy than the consequences it produced; a simultaneous impulse, which was suddenly given to every species of industry, excited the emulation of all at the same moment; the army was unrivalled, striking terror abroad and creating a just pride at home.

Every day added to the number of our trophies, while numerous monuments proclaimed our exploits; the victories of Austerlitz, Jena, and Friedland; the treaties of Presburg and Tilsit had constituted France the first of nations, and made her the arbitress of Europe. It was a signal honour to be a Frenchman; and yet all these exploits, labours and prodigies, were the work of one man. For my own part, whatever might have been my former prepossessions and prejudices, I was now filled with admiration; and, as we all know, there is but one step from admiration to affection. It was precisely at this period that the Emperor called some of the first families of France round his throne, and caused it to be circulated, amongst the rest, that he would consider those who remained aloof as bad Frenchmen. I did not hesitate for an instant: I have, said I to myself, fulfilled the obligations of my natural oath, that of my birth and education, to which I have continued faithful until its extinction. Our princes too were no longer thought of: we even doubted their existence. The solemnities of religion, the alliance of kings, the example of Europe, and the splendour of France, henceforth taught me that I had a new sovereign. Had those who preceded us made so long a resistance to such powerful efforts, before rallying round the first of the Capets? I answered therefore, for myself, that, happy in being thus enabled to obey a call which removed me with honour from the delicate situation in which I was placed, I freely, spontaneously, and without reserve, transferred the zeal, loyalty, and attachment which I had constantly cherished for my old masters, to the new sovereign: the result of this step was my immediate admission at court.

In this state of things, I felt extremely anxious that my recent protestations should be ratified by deeds. The English had invaded Flushing, and threatened Antwerp; I therefore hastened to assist in the defence of the latter place, as a volunteer; and, on the subsequent evacuation of Flushing, my nomination to the office of chamberlain called me near the person of the Emperor. Being desirous of adding some more useful occupation to the duties of this honourable post, I solicited and obtained a seat in the Council of State. Hence followed several confidential missions: I was sent to Holland at the period of its union to the French Empire, in order to receive whatever related to the naval department; then to Illyria, for the purpose of liquidating the public debt; and afterwards over half the Empire, to superintend establishments of public beneficence. During our late misfortunes, I received some consoling proofs that the inhabitants of the countries to which I had thus been sent were not dissatisfied with my conduct.

Providence had however fixed a limit to our prosperity. The catastrophe of Moscow, the disasters of Leipsic, and the siege of Paris, are well known. I commanded in that city one of the legions which acquired honour by its severe losses on the 31st of March. When the capitulation took place I gave up the command, feeling that other duties were to be performed near the person of my sovereign, but could not reach Fontainebleau in time:—the Emperor had abdicated, and was succeeded by the King.

My situation now became more singular than it had been twelve years before. The cause for which I had sacrificed my fortune, for which I remained so long in exile, and six years in a state of self-denial at home, was at length triumphant; nevertheless, the point of honour and other considerations were about to prevent my reaping any benefit from the event! What could be more capricious than my fate? Two revolutions had been effected in opposition to each other:—by the first I lost my patrimony; by the second I might have been deprived of life: neither the one nor the other had been favourable to my fortune. Vulgar minds will only perceive an unfortunate tergiversation of opinions in this wayward destiny, while the lovers of intrigue will assert that I was twice a dupe: only the few will understand that I have twice honourably fulfilled my duty. Be this as it may, those early friends, whose esteem was not lessened by the line of conduct I had pursued, having now become all powerful, invited me to join them: it was impossible to obey the generous call; disgusted and disheartened, I resolved that my public life should terminate. Ought I to have exposed myself to the false judgment of those who were watching my proceedings? Could every body see what was passing in my mind?

Having now become a Frenchman even to enthusiasm, and unable to endure that national degradation of which I was a daily witness amidst foreign bayonets, I determined to endeavour to divert my thoughts at a distance from the scene of calamity, and went to pass a few months in England. How altered did every thing appear there! On reflection, I found that it was myself who had undergone a great change.

I had scarcely returned, when Napoleon appeared on our coasts: he was transported to the capital as it were by magic, and this without battles, excesses, or effusion of blood. I thought I saw the stain brought on us by foreign hands effaced, and all our glory restored. Destiny had ordered otherwise!

No sooner did I hear of the Emperor’s arrival, than I spontaneously repaired to attend on his person. I was present at the moment of abdication; and, when the question of his removal was agitated, I requested permission to participate in his fate. Such had been till then the disinterestedness and simplicity, some will say folly, of my conduct, that, notwithstanding my daily intercourse as an officer of the household and member of his council, Napoleon scarcely knew me. “Do you know whither your offer may lead you?” said he, in his astonishment. “I have made no calculation about it,” I replied.[it,” I replied.] He accepted me, and I am at St. Helena.

I have now made myself known; the reader has my credentials in his hands: a host of contemporaries are living—it will be seen whether a single individual amongst them stands up to invalidate them: I therefore begin my task.

RETURN OF THE EMPEROR TO THE ELYSÉE, AFTER
THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO.

Tuesday, June 20th, 1815.—Heard of the Emperor’s return to the Elysée Palace: placed myself in immediate attendance there. Found Messrs. Montalambert and Montholon there, brought by the same sentiment.

Napoleon had just lost a great battle; so that the safety of the nation thenceforth depended on the wisdom and zeal of the Chamber of Representatives. The Emperor, still covered with dust from the field of Waterloo, was on the point of hurrying into the midst of them, there to declare our dangers and resources, and to engage that his personal interests should never be a barrier to the happiness of France; after which he intended to quit Paris immediately. It is said that several persons dissuaded him from this step, by leading him to apprehend an approaching ferment amongst the deputies.

It is as yet impossible to comprehend every report that circulates with regard to this fatal battle: some say there is manifest treason; others, a fatality without example. Thirty thousand men under Grouchy lost their way and were too late, taking no part in the engagement; the army, victorious till the evening, was, it is said, suddenly seized with a panic towards eight o’clock, and became broken in an instant. It is another Crecy, another Azincourt,———![^[1]] every one trembles and thinks all is lost!

THE ABDICATION.

21st.—The best intentioned and most influential members of the national representation have been tampered with all last evening and all night, by certain persons, who, if their word is to be taken, produce authentic documents and demi-official papers guaranteeing the safety of France, on condition of the mere abdication of the Emperor, as they pretend.

The above opinion had become so strong this morning that it seemed irresistible: the president of the assembly, the first men in the state, and the Emperor’s particular friends, come to supplicate him to save France by abdicating. Though by no means convinced, yet the Emperor answers with magnanimity:—he abdicates!

This circumstance causes the greatest bustle round the Elysée; the multitude rushes towards the gate, and testifies the deepest interest; numbers penetrate within the hall, while some even of the popular class scale the walls; some in tears, others in a state approaching to distraction, crowd up to the Emperor, who is walking tranquilly in the garden, and make offers of every description. Napoleon alone is calm, constantly replying that they ought in future to employ this zeal and tenderness for the good of their country.

I presented the deputation of Representatives, in the course of the day: it came to thank the Emperor for his devotedness to the national interests.

The documents and state-papers, which have produced such a powerful sensation, and brought about the grand event of this day, are said to be official communications of Messrs. Fouché and Metternich, in which the latter guarantees Napoleon II. and the regency, in case of the abdication of the Emperor. These communications must have been long carried on unknown to Napoleon. M. Fouché must have a furious partiality for clandestine operations. It is well known that his first disgrace, which took place several years ago, arose from his having opened some negotiations with England of his own accord, without the Emperor’s knowledge: he has in fact always shewn the greatest obliquity in affairs of moment. God grant that his present mysterious acts do not prove fatal to our country!

DEPUTATION OF THE CHAMBER OF PEERS.—CAULAINCOURT.—FOUCHÉ.

22nd.—Went home to pass a few hours at my own house: in the course of this day the deputation of the Peers was presented: a portion of the Provisional Government was named in the evening. Caulaincourt and Fouché, who were of the number, happened to be with us in the ante-chamber: we complimented the first on his nomination, which was, indeed, only congratulating ourselves on the public good: his reply was full of alarm. “We applaud the choice hitherto known,” said we. “It is certain,” observed Fouché, with an air of levity, “that I am not suspected.”—“If you had been,“ rudely rejoined the deputy Boulay de la Meurthe, who was also present, “be assured we should not have named you.”

THE PROVISIONAL GOVERNMENT PRESENTED TO
THE EMPEROR.

23rd—The acclamations and interest without continued at the Elysée. I presented the members of the Provisional Government to the Emperor, who, in dismissing them, directed the Duke Decrés to see them out. The Emperor’s brothers, Joseph, Lucien, and Jerome, were introduced frequently through the day, and conversed with him for some time.

As usual, there was a great multitude of people collected round the palace in the evening: their numbers were constantly increasing. Their acclamations and the interest shewn for the Emperor created considerable uneasiness amongst the different factions. The fermentation of the capital now became so great that Napoleon determined to depart on the following day.

THE EMPEROR QUITS THE ELYSÉE.

25th.—I accompanied the Emperor to Malmaison, and again requested permission to follow his future fortunes. My proposal seemed to create astonishment, for I was still only known to him by my employments; but he accepted the offer.

26th.—My wife came to see me; she had divined my intentions: it became a somewhat delicate task to avow them, and still more difficult to convince her of their propriety. “My dear,” said I, “in following the dutiful dictates of my heart, it is consoling to reflect that your interests are not thereby prejudiced. If Napoleon II. is to govern us, I leave you strong claims on his protection; should Heaven order it differently, I shall have secured you a glorious asylum, a name honoured with some esteem. At all events we shall meet again, at least in a better world.” After tears and even reproaches, which could not but be gratifying, she consented to my departure, exacting a promise however, that I would allow her to join me without loss of time. From this moment she manifested a courage and strength of mind that would have animated myself in case of necessity.

THE MINISTER OF MARINE COMES TO MALMAISON.

27th.—I went to Paris for a short time with the minister of Marine, who came to Malmaison, on business respecting the frigates destined for the Emperor. He read me the instructions drawn out for the commanders, said his Majesty depended on my zeal, and intended taking me with him; adding, that he would take care of my family during my absence.

Napoleon II. is proclaimed by the Legislature.

Sent for my son from his school, having determined that he should accompany me. We prepared a small parcel of clothes and linen, then proceeded to Malmaison, accompanied by my wife, who returned immediately. The road had now become rather unsafe, owing to the approach of the enemy.

28th.—Being desirous of making some other arrangements before our departure, the Duchess de Rovigo took me and my son to Paris in her carriage. I found Messrs. de Vertillac and de Quitry at my house; these were the last friends I embraced: they were terrified. The agitation and uncertainty hourly increased in the capital, for the enemy was at the gates. On reaching Malmaison, we saw the bridge of Chatou in flames: guards were posted round the palace, and it became prudent to remain within the park walls. I went into the Emperor’s room, and described how Paris had appeared to me; stating the general opinion that Fouché openly betrayed the National cause; and that the hopes of all patriots were that his Majesty would this very night join the army who loudly called for him. The Emperor listened to me with an air of deep thought, but made no reply, and I withdrew soon after.

NAPOLEON QUITS MALMAISON, AND DEPARTS FOR
ROCHEFORT.

29th-30th.—A cry of Long live the Emperor! was continually heard on the great road to Saint Germain; it proceeded from the troops who passed under the walls of Malmaison.

Towards noon. General Becker came from Paris, sent by the Provisional government; he told us, with feelings of indignation, that he had received a commission to guard and watch Napoleon.[^[3]]

A sentiment the most base had dictated this choice: Fouché knew that General Becker had a private pique against the Emperor, and therefore did not doubt of finding in the former a man disposed to vengeance; but he was grossly deceived in his expectations, for Becker constantly shewed a degree of respect and attachment to the Emperor highly honourable to his own character.

Meanwhile time pressed. When on the point of setting out, the Emperor sent a message to the Provisional Government, by General Becker, offering to place himself at the head of the army, merely as a private citizen, adding, that, after having repulsed Blucher, he would continue his route. On the refusal of this offer, we left Malmaison; the Emperor and a part of his suite taking the road to Rochefort by Tours; I and my son, with Messieurs Montholon, Planat, and Résigny, proceeded towards Orleans, as did also two or three other carriages. We reached this place early on the 30th, and got to Chatellerault at midnight.

July 1st–2nd. We passed through Limoges on the 1st, at four in the afternoon; dined at Rochefoucault on the 2nd, and reached Jarnac about seven. We slept here, owing to the obstinacy of the postmaster, which forced us to remain till next day.

3rd.—We could not set out before five o’clock. On account of the misconduct of the postmaster, who, not content with detaining us all night, had recourse to secret means for keeping us still longer, we were obliged to proceed at a slow pace to Cognac, where the postmaster and inhabitants received us very differently. It was easy to perceive that our journey occasioned a great deal of agitation amongst all parties. On reaching Saintes, towards eleven o’clock, we nearly fell victims to the fury of some miscreants, collected by an officer of the royal guard, a native of that place. This person had prepared an ambuscade for us, and had even laid a plan for our assassination. We were arrested by the mob, but a part of the national guard interfered, and conducted us as prisoners to an adjoining inn. It was said that we were carrying off the treasures of the State, and therefore merited death. Some of them, who pretended to be the most distinguished inhabitants, and above all, the women, were the most outrageous, and called for our immediate execution.

We saw these females pass in succession before some windows that were open near our temporary prison, in order that their insults should not be lost upon us. It will scarcely be credited that they went so far as to gnash their teeth in sign of hatred, and from vexation at seeing the indifference we displayed; yet they formed the fashionable circle of Saintes! Could Real be in the right, when he told the Emperor, during the hundred days, that as for Jacobins, he had reason to know something of them; protesting that the only difference between the blacks and whites was that the former wore wooden shoes and the latter silk stockings?

Prince Joseph, who was passing through Saintes unknown to us, came to increase the interest of our adventure. He was also arrested, and conducted to the prefecture; but highly respected.

The windows of the inn faced a large square, which continued to be filled with an agitated and hostile rabble, who were extremely violent and abusive. I found an old acquaintance in the under-prefect, who was thus enabled to state who we were. The carriage in which we travelled was next examined; while we were ourselves retained in a species of solitary confinement. I obtained leave, however, to visit the Prince about four o’clock.

While on my way to the prefecture, and though guarded by a non-commissioned officer, several individuals addressed me: some put notes secretly into my hands; others whispered something friendly; while all united in assuring me we might feel perfectly tranquil, for the patriots and well-intentioned inhabitants would protect us.

Towards the evening we were allowed to depart; and by this time things had so totally changed that we left the inn amidst the most lively acclamations: females of the lower classes, in tears, kissed our hands: many persons offered to accompany us, that we might avoid the enemies of the Emperor, who, they said, lay in wait to murder us, at a short distance from the town. This singular transition arose in some degree from the arrival of numbers of country people and federates, who gave an immediate turn to public opinion.

4th.—On approaching Rochefort we met a party of gendarmerie, who, on the report of our reception at Saintes, had been dispatched to meet us. We arrived at this place about two o’clock in the morning: the Emperor had reached it on the preceding evening.[^[4]] Prince Joseph arrived in the afternoon; when I conducted him to the Emperor.

I profited by the first moment of leisure to inform the President of the Council of State why I absented myself. “Rapid and important events,” said I “obliged me to quit Paris without the necessary leave of absence. The peculiarity and importance of the case led to this irregularity: being in attendance on the Emperor at the moment of his departure, it was impossible to see the great man, who had governed us with so much splendour, and who had banished himself to facilitate the tranquillity of France, of whose power nothing now remains but its glory and name;—I repeat, that I could not allow him to depart without yielding to the desire of following his steps. During the days of his prosperity he condescended to bestow some favours on me; I now owe him all that I can offer, whether of sentiment or of action.”

5th-7th. At Rochefort, the Emperor laid aside his military dress. He lived at the prefecture; numbers were constantly grouped round the house; and acclamations continued to be frequently repeated. The Emperor appeared two or three times at the balcony. Numerous proposals were made to him, both by generals who came in person, and others who sent emissaries.

During our stay here the Emperor has led the same sort of life as if at the Tuileries: we do not approach his person more frequently: he scarcely receives any persons but Bertrand and Savary; so that we are reduced to reports and conjectures as to all that concerns him. It is, however, evident that, in the midst of this state of agitation, he continues calm and resolute, even to indifference, without manifesting the least anxiety.

A lieutenant of our navy, who commands a Danish merchant-ship, has generously offered to save the Emperor. He proposes to take him on board alone; engages to conceal his person in such a way that it will escape the severest scrutiny; and, moreover, will immediately set sail for the United States. He demands but a small sum by way of indemnifying his owners for any loss they may sustain through his enterprize. Bertrand agrees, under certain conditions, which he has drawn out in my name. I have signed this fictitious bargain in presence and under the eyes of the maritime prefect.

EMBARKATION OF THE EMPEROR.

8th.—The Emperor proceeded to Fourras in the evening, followed by the acclamations of the people wherever he passed. He slept on board the Saal,[^[5]] which he reached about eight o’clock. I did not arrive till a much later hour, having had to accompany Madame Bertrand in another boat, and from a different point.

9th.—I attended the Emperor, who disembarked at an early hour in the Isle of Aix: he visited all the fortifications, and returned on board to breakfast.

10th.—I was dispatched towards the British cruisers, with the Duke de Rovigo, early in the morning, to know whether they had received the passes, which had been promised to us by the Provisional Government, to proceed to the United States. The answer was, that they had not; but that the matter should be instantly referred to the Commander-in-chief. Having stated the supposition of the Emperor’s setting sail with the frigates under flags of truce; it was replied, that they would be attacked. We then spoke of his passage in a neutral ship; and were told, in reply, that all neutrals would be strictly examined, and, perhaps, even carried into an English port; but we were recommended to proceed to England; and it was asserted that in that country we should have no ill usage to fear. We returned at two in the afternoon.

The Bellerophon, having followed, soon after anchored in Basque Roads, in order to be nearer to us; so that the ships of both nations were now in view of, and very near, each other.

On reaching the Bellerophon, the captain addressed us in French: I was not eager to inform him that I knew something of his own language. Some expressions which passed between him and his officers might have injured the negotiation, had I seemed to understand them. When, a short time after, it was asked, whether we understood English, I allowed the Duke of Rovigo to reply in the negative. Our situation was quite sufficient to remove any scruples I might have otherwise entertained, and rendered this little deception very pardonable. I only mention this circumstance, because, as I remained a fortnight amongst these people, I was compelled to impose a tiresome restraint upon myself, to avoid disclosing what I had concealed in the first instance. In fact, though I could read the language with facility, yet, owing to an absence of thirteen years and consequent want of practice, it was with considerable difficulty I understood English when spoken.

11th.—All the outlets being blockaded by English ships of war, the Emperor seemed extremely uncertain as to what plan he should pursue. Neutral vessels, and chasse-marées,[^[6]] manned by young naval officers, were suggested for his conveyance; propositions also continued to be made from the interior.

12th.—The Emperor disembarked at the Isle of Aix, amidst cries of exultation on every side. He quitted the frigates in consequence of the Commandant’s having refused to sail; whether from weakness of character, or owing to his having received fresh orders from the Provisional Government, is not known. Many were of opinion that the attempt might be made with some probability of success; but it must be allowed that the winds still continued unfavourable.

13th.—Prince Joseph visited his brother in the course of the day. Towards eleven at night the Emperor was on the point of embarking in one of the chasse marées; two sailed, having on board a great part of his luggage and several of his attendants. M. de Planat was in one of them.

14th.—I returned to the Bellerophon at four in the morning, accompanied by General Lallemand, to ascertain whether any answer had been received. The Captain told us he expected it every moment; adding, that if the Emperor would embark immediately for England, he had instructions to convey him thither. He farther declared it as his private opinion, and several captains who were present expressed themselves to the same effect, that there was not the least doubt of Napoleon’s meeting with all possible respect and good treatment: that there, neither the king nor his ministers exercised the same arbitrary authority as those of the Continent: that the English people possessed a generosity of sentiment, and liberality of opinion, superior to sovereignty itself. I replied that I would return and communicate the Captain’s offer to the Emperor, as well as the whole of his conversation. I added that I thought I had a sufficient knowledge of the Emperor Napoleon’s character to induce a belief that he would not feel much hesitation in proceeding to England thus confidentially, so as to be able to continue his voyage to the United States. I described all France, south of the Loire, as being in a blaze, and the hopes of the people as constantly turning towards Napoleon, as long as he was present; stated the propositions hourly made to him from various directions; his determination not to become either the cause or pretext of a civil war; the generosity shewn by him in abdicating, merely to render the conclusion of a peace more easy; and the firm resolution he had taken to banish himself, in order to make it more prompt and complete.

General Lallemand, who, from having been condemned to death, was interested on his own account in the determination that might be made, asked Captain Maitland, whom he formerly knew in Egypt, and whose prisoner I think he had been, if persons implicated in the civil dissensions of his country, like himself, and going thus voluntarily to England, had any reason to fear being ever delivered up to France? The Captain replied that they had not: repelling the doubt as an insult. Previously to our separating, the conference was summed up, by my repeating that it was possible, from the state of affairs, and his own intentions, that the Emperor would avail himself of Captain Maitland’s offer, so as to get safe-conducts for America. The latter begged it to be understood that he would not guarantee the permission we demanded being granted; upon which we departed. To say the truth, I did not myself think it would be given; but the Emperor, wishing to lead a life of tranquillity in future, had resolved to be a stranger to political concerns; we therefore considered the probability of not being allowed to leave England, without much uneasiness; but our fears and conjectures went no farther. It is very likely that Captain Maitland was of the same opinion: at all events, I will do him, as well as the other officers, the justice to believe they were honest and sincere in the account they gave us of the sentiments of the people of England.

We reached the island at eleven o’clock; meanwhile the storm approached, and time became precious: it was necessary to decide one way or another. The Emperor having assembled us in a sort of council, all the chances of escape were discussed: that of the Danish vessel seemed impracticable, and the chasse-marées were no longer thought of; the English cruisers were not to be forced; so that there seemed only two alternatives—either to renew the war, or to accept the offers of Captain Maitland: the latter was chosen. On reaching the Bellerophon, we said, we shall be at once on British ground; the English will then find themselves bound by the ties of hospitality, which are held sacred amongst the most barbarous nations; we shall also be under the civil rights and privileges of the country. The people of England will not be so insensible to their glory as not to seize so fortunate a circumstance with avidity: upon this, Napoleon wrote the following letter to the Prince Regent.

“Royal Highness—Exposed to the factions which divide my country, and to the hostility of the greatest powers of Europe, I have closed my political career. I come, like Themistocles, to seek the hospitality of the British nation. I place myself under the protection of their laws, which I claim from your Royal Highness, as the most powerful, the most constant, and the most generous, of my enemies.

(Signed) “Napoleon.”

I set out about four o’clock, with my son and General Gourgaud, to go on board the Bellerophon, whence I was not again to return. My mission was to announce that his Majesty would come on the following morning; and, moreover, to deliver the letter above quoted to Captain Maitland. General Gourgaud was commissioned to carry the Emperor’s letter to the Prince Regent immediately, and to present it in person. Captain Maitland read Napoleon’s letter, which he greatly admired. Two other captains were permitted to take copies of it, to be kept secret till the letter should be made public; after which no time was lost in despatching Gourgaud in the Slaney, a sloop of war, forming part of the squadron.

Soon after the Slaney had parted company with the Bellerophon, and while I was seated in the captain’s cabin of the latter with my son, Captain Maitland, who had gone to issue some orders, suddenly entered, and with a countenance expressive of deep concern, exclaimed, “Count Las Cases, I am deceived when I treat with you. The consequence of detaching one of my ships is, as I have just heard, that Napoleon has escaped. Should this be the case, it will place me in a dreadful situation with my Government.” These words startled me; I would have given the world had they been true. The Emperor had made no engagement; I was perfectly sincere; and would, therefore, most willingly have become the victim of an event of which I was quite innocent. I asked Captain Maitland, with the utmost coolness, at what hour the Emperor was said to have set out. He had been so astonished that he had not given himself time to inquire; but went out again to ascertain this point; and on returning, said, “At twelve o’clock.” If that be the case, I replied, the Slaney’s departure can do no harm, as you have only just sent her away; but do not be uneasy, for I left the Emperor in the Isle of Aix at four o’clock. “Do you assure me of that?” said he. On my repeating the assertion, he turned to some officers who were with him, and observed, in English, that the intelligence must be false, as I was too calm, and seemed to be sincere; and that I had, besides, pledged my word on the subject.

The English cruisers had numerous sources of information on our coast: I was subsequently enabled to ascertain that they were minutely informed of all our proceedings.[^[7]]

Nothing was now thought of but preparing for the next day. Captain Maitland having asked whether I wished his boats to be sent for the Emperor, I replied, that the separation was too painful for the French seamen, not to let them have the satisfaction of attending him to the last moment.

EMBARKATION OF NAPOLEON ON BOARD THE
BELLEROPHON.

15th.—At daylight, one of our brigs, the Epervier, was seen under weigh, and coming towards the Bellerophon, having a flag of truce flying. Both wind and tide being contrary, Captain Maitland sent his barge to meet her. Seeing the boat return, the Captain was extremely anxious to discover, with his spy-glass, whether the Emperor was on board; he frequently begged that I would look myself, but I could not as yet reply with certainty: at length the matter was placed beyond farther doubt, as the Emperor came alongside surrounded by all his attendants. I stood at the gangway to present Captain Maitland, to whom he said, “I come on board your ship, to place myself under the protection of the laws of England.”—The Captain then led him into his cabin, of which the Emperor was immediately put in possession. All the officers of the Bellerophon were presented to him soon after; this ceremony over, he came out of the cabin, and visited every part of the ship during the morning. I related the alarm felt by Captain Maitland the preceding evening, relative to his escape; the Emperor did not see the matter in the light in which it had appeared to me—“What had he to fear?” he asked, in an emphatic and dignified manner—“were not you in his power?“

NAPOLEON ON BOARD THE BELLEROPHON.
London: Published for Henry Colburn, March, 1836.

Towards three o’clock, the Superb, a seventy-four gun ship, bearing the flag of Rear-Admiral Hotham, the Commander on the station, anchored close to the Bellerophon. The Admiral came to visit the Emperor, and remained to dinner. From the questions asked by Napoleon relative to his ship, he expressed a wish to know whether his Majesty would condescend to go on board the following day; upon which the Emperor said he had no objection, and would therefore breakfast with the Admiral accompanied by all his attendants.

16th.—Attended the Emperor on board the Superb: all the honours, except those of firing cannon, were liberally paid; we went round the ship, and examined the most trifling objects; every thing seemed to be in admirable order. Admiral Hotham evinced, throughout, all the refinement and grace of a man of rank and education. On our return to the Bellerophon, she got under weigh, and made sail for England: this event took place twelve days after our departure from Paris. It was almost a calm.

On our leaving the Bellerophon in the morning to visit the Superb, the Emperor stopped short in front of the guard drawn up on the quarter-deck to salute him. He made them perform several movements, giving the word of command himself; having desired them to charge bayonets, and perceiving that this motion was not performed altogether in the French manner, he advanced into the midst of the soldiers, put the weapons aside with his hands, and seized a musquet from one of the rear rank, with which he went through the exercise himself, according to our method. A sudden movement and change of countenance amongst the officers and others who were present, sufficiently expressed their astonishment at seeing the Emperor thus carelessly place himself amidst English bayonets, some of which came in contact with his person. This circumstance produced a most striking effect. On returning from the Superb, we were indirectly questioned on the subject, and asked whether the Emperor ever acted in the same way with his own soldiers; while the greatest surprise was expressed at his confidence. Not one amongst the officers had formed any idea of sovereigns who could thus explain and execute their own commands; it was therefore easy to perceive that they had no just conception of the personage now before them, notwithstanding his having been so marked an object of attention and curiosity for above twenty years.

17th-18th. Though nearly a calm, we lost sight of land.

19th.—The wind being very strong, though not favourable, we proceeded at the rate of nine miles an hour.

20th-22d. We continued our course, with winds that were by no means favourable.

The Emperor had not been long amongst his most inveterate enemies, those who had been continually fed with rumours no less absurd than irritating, before he acquired all the influence over them which belongs to glory. The captain, officers, and crew, soon adopted the etiquette of his suite, shewing him exactly the same attention and respect; the Captain addressed him either as Sire or your Majesty; when he appeared on deck, every one took off his hat, and remained uncovered while he was present—this was not the case at first. There was no entering his cabin, except by passing the attendants: no persons but those who were invited appeared at his table. Napoleon was, in fact, an Emperor, on board the Bellerophon. He often appeared on deck, conversing either with some of his suite or the officers of the ship.

Of all those who had accompanied the Emperor, I was perhaps the person of whom he knew the least; it has already been seen that, notwithstanding my employments near his person, I had enjoyed but little immediate intercourse with Napoleon; since our leaving Paris he had scarcely spoken to me, but I was now addressed very frequently.

The occasion and circumstances were highly favourable to me: I was sufficiently acquainted with the English language to be able to give various explanations as to what was passing around us. I had been in the navy, and could afford the Emperor any information he required relative to the manœuvres of the ship, and state of the weather. I had been ten years in England, and had formed definite notions of the laws, manners, and customs of the people; which enabled me to reply to the Emperor’s questions with facility. My Historical Atlas, too, had stored my mind with a number of facts, dates, and coincidences, upon which he always found me prepared to answer.

A part of my time was occupied in drawing up the following summary of our situation at Rochefort, and the ideas which had influenced the determination of the Emperor. Hence I had precise and authentic data to judge from.

SUMMARY DICTATED BY NAPOLEON HIMSELF.

The English squadron was not strong: there were two sloops of war off Bordeaux, they blockaded a French corvette, and gave chace to American vessels which sailed daily in great numbers. At the Isle of Aix we had two frigates well armed; the Vulcan corvette, one of the largest vessels of its class, and a large brig, lay in the roads: the whole of this force was blockaded by an English seventy-four of the smallest class, and an indifferent sloop or two. There is not the least doubt that by risking the sacrifice of one or two of our ships, we should have passed, but the senior captain was deficient in resolution, and refused to sail; the second in command was quite determined, and would have made the attempt: the former had probably received secret instructions from Fouché, who already openly betrayed the Emperor, and wanted to give him up. However that may be, there was nothing to be done by sea. The Emperor then landed at the Isle of Aix.

“Had the mission been confided to Admiral Verhuel,” said Napoleon, “as was promised on our departure from Paris, it is probable that he would have sailed.” The officers and crews of both frigates were full of attachment and enthusiasm. The garrison of Aix was composed of fifteen hundred seamen, forming a very fine regiment; the officers were so indignant at the frigate not sailing, that they proposed to fit out two chasse-marées of fifteen tons’ each: the midshipmen wished to navigate them; but, when on the point of putting this plan into execution, it was said there would be great difficulty in gaining the American coast without touching at some point of Spain or Portugal.

Under these circumstances the Emperor composed a species of council, from amongst the persons of his suite: here it was represented that we could no longer calculate on the frigates or other armed vessels; that the chasse-marées held out no probable chance of success, and could only lead to capture by the English cruisers in the open sea, or to falling into the hands of the allies: only two alternatives remained; to proceed towards the interior, once more to try the fate of arms; or to seek an asylum in England. To follow up the first, there were fifteen hundred seamen, full of zeal and willing to act: the commandant of the Island was an old officer of the army of Egypt, entirely devoted to Napoleon: the Emperor would have proceeded at the head of these to Rochefort, where the corps would have been increased by the garrison, which was also extremely well disposed: the garrison of La Rochelle, composed of four battalions of federated troops, had offered their services: with these we might then have joined General Clausel, so firmly fixed at the head of the army at Bordeaux, or General Lamarque, who had performed prodigies, with that of La Vendée; both these officers expected and wished to see Napoleon: it would have been very easy to maintain a civil war in the interior. But Paris was taken, and the Chambers had been dissolved; there were, besides, from five to six hundred thousand of the enemy’s troops in France: a civil war could therefore have no other result than leading to the destruction of all these generous men who were attached to Napoleon. This loss would have been severe and irreparable: it would have destroyed the future resources of the nation, without producing any other advantage than placing the Emperor in a position to treat and obtain stipulations favourable to his interests. But Napoleon had renounced sovereignty; he only wanted a tranquil asylum; he abhorred the thought of seeing all his friends perish to attain so trifling a result; he was equally averse to become the pretext for the provinces being ravaged; and above all, he did not wish to deprive the national party of its truest supports, which would sooner or later reestablish the honour and independence of France. Napoleon’s only wish was to live as a private individual in future: America was the most proper place, and that of his choice. But even England, with its positive laws, might also answer; and it appeared, from the nature of my first interview with Captain Maitland, that the latter was empowered to convey the Emperor and suite to England to be equitably treated. From this moment we were under the protection of British laws; and the people of England were too fond of glory to lose an opportunity which thus presented itself, and that ought to have formed the proudest page of their history. It was therefore resolved to surrender to the English cruisers, as soon as Captain Maitland should positively declare his orders to receive us. On renewing the negotiation, he clearly stated that he had the authority of his Government to receive the Emperor, if he would come on board the Bellerophon, and to convey him, as well as his suite, to England. Napoleon went on board, not that he was constrained to it by events, since he could have remained in France; but because he wished to live as a private individual, would no longer meddle with public affairs, and had determined not to embroil those of France. He would, most assuredly, not have adopted this plan had he suspected the unworthy treatment which was preparing for him, as every body will readily feel convinced. His letter to the Prince Regent fully explains his confidence and persuasion on the subject. Captain Maitland, to whom it was officially communicated before the Emperor embarked on board his ship, having made no remarks on the above document, had, by this circumstance alone, recognized and sanctioned the sentiments it contained.

23rd.—Saw Ushant at four in the morning, having passed it in the night. From the moment of approaching the Channel, ships of the line and frigates were seen sailing in various directions. The coast of England was discovered towards evening.

24th.—We anchored at Torbay about eight in the morning; the Emperor had risen at six, and went on the poop, whence he surveyed the coast and anchorage. I remained by his side to give the explanations which he required.

Captain Maitland immediately despatched a messenger to Lord Keith, the Commander-in-chief at Plymouth. General Gourgaud rejoined us: he had been obliged to give up the letter for the Prince Regent; he had not only been refused permission to land, but prohibited from all communication. This was a bad omen, and the first indication of those numberless tribulations which followed.

No sooner had it transpired that the Emperor was on board the Bellerophon, than the bay was covered with vessels and boats full of people. The owner of a beautiful country-seat in sight of the ship sent his Majesty a present of various kinds of fruits.

25th.—The concourse of boats and crowds of spectators continued without intermission. The Emperor saw them from the cabin windows and occasionally shewed himself on deck. On returning from the shore, Captain Maitland handed me a letter from Lady C., enclosing another from my wife. My surprise was extreme, and not less than my satisfaction; but the former ceased when I reflected that the length of the passage had given the French papers time to transmit an account of what had occurred to a considerable distance, so that whatever related to the Emperor and his suite was already known in England, where we had even been expected for five or six days before. My wife hastened to address Lady C. on the subject, and the latter wrote to Captain Maitland, to whom she enclosed my letters, without knowing him.

My wife’s letter bespoke feelings of tender affliction; but that of Lady C., who, from being in London, had learned our future destiny, was full of reproaches—“I was not my own master, thus to dispose of myself; it was a crime to abandon my wife and children,” &c. Melancholy result of our modern systems of education, which tend so little to elevate our minds that we cannot conceive either the merit or charm of heroic resolutions and sacrifices! We think that all has been said, and every plea justified, when the danger of private interests and domestic enjoyments is put forward,—little imagining that the first duty towards a wife is to place her in a situation of honour, and that the richest inheritance we can leave our children is the example of some virtues, and a name to which a little true glory is attached.

26th.—Orders had arrived in the night for the ship to repair immediately to Plymouth: having sailed at an early hour, we reached our new destination at four o’clock in the afternoon, ten days after our departure from Rochefort, twenty-seven after quitting Paris, and thirty-five from the Emperor’s abdication. Our horizon became greatly overcast from this day. Armed boats were placed round the ship; those whom curiosity had attracted were driven away, even by firing musquetry at them. Lord Keith, who was in the bay, did not come on board. Two frigates made the signal for sailing immediately; we were told that a courier extraordinary had brought dispatches for a distant quarter. In the morning, some of our party were distributed amongst other vessels. Every visage seemed now to look at us with a sullen interest; the most sinister reports had reached the ship; several destinations were mentioned, each more frightful than the other.

Imprisonment in the Tower of London was the least terrific, and some spoke of St. Helena. Meanwhile the two frigates, which had greatly excited my attention, got under weigh, though the wind was contrary for leaving the roadstead, stood towards us, and anchored on each side, nearly touching the Bellerophon. Upon this, some person whispered to me that these ships were to receive us in the course of the night, and to sail for St. Helena.

Never can I portray the effect of these terrible words! A cold sweat overspread my whole frame: it was an unexpected sentence of death! Unpitying executioners had seized me: I was torn from all that attached me to life. I extended my arms sorrowfully towards those who were dear to me, but in vain; my fate was inevitable! This thought, together with a crowd of others which arose in equal disorder, excited a real tempest of the mind. It was like the struggle of a soul that sought to disengage itself from its earthly habitation! It turned my hair grey!——Fortunately the crisis was short, and, as it happened, the mind came forth triumphant; so much so, indeed, that from this moment I seemed above the world. I felt that I could thenceforth defy injustice, ill treatment, and sufferings. Above all, I vowed that neither complaints nor solicitations should escape me. But let not those of my companions, to whom I appeared tranquil in those fatal circumstances, accuse me of being deficient in feeling! Their agony was prolonged in detail—mine operated all at once.

One of those coincidences, not the least extraordinary of my life, recurred to my thoughts soon after. Twenty years before, and during my emigration to England, without possessing any worldly goods, I had refused to seek a certain fortune in India, because it was too remote, and I thought myself too old. Now, when twenty years older, I was about to quit my family, friends, fortune, and enjoyments, to become a voluntary exile two thousand miles off, in the midst of the ocean, for nothing. But no, I am mistaken! the sentiment that now impelled me was infinitely superior to the riches I then disdained: I accompanied him who had governed the world, and will occupy the attention of posterity.

The Emperor continued to appear on deck as usual. I sometimes saw him in his cabin, but without communicating what I had heard: I wished to console him, and not to be his tormentor. The reports had, however, reached him: but he had come so freely and confidently on board the Bellerophon; he had been so strongly invited by the English themselves; he so completely regarded his letter to the Prince Regent, transmitted before-hand to Captain Maitland, as so many tacit conditions; he had, in fact, acted with such magnanimity throughout the proceeding, that he repelled with indignation all the fears which were attempted to be excited in him, not even permitting those around him to entertain doubts.

27th—28th. It would be difficult to describe our torments and anxiety at this moment: most of us were dumb and inanimate. The least circumstance which transpired from the shore—an opinion, however unimportant, expressed on board—an unmeaning paragraph in a daily paper, became the subjects of our most serious arguments, and the cause of perpetual oscillations between our hopes and fears. The most trifling reports were sought with avidity; whoever appeared was urged to give a favourable version of deceitful anticipations: so little do the ardour and activity of our national character contribute to endow us with that stoical resignation, that imperturbable composure, which can only be acquired from settled principles and positive doctrines imbibed from early infancy.

The public papers, particularly those of the ministerial side, were let loose against us; it was the outcry of the Ministers preparing the blow they were about to strike. It would not be easy to form an idea of the horrors, falsehoods, and imprecations accumulated on our heads; and there is always a portion communicated to the multitude, however well disposed it may be, so that the demeanour of those around us became less easy, while their politeness became embarrassed and their countenances more reserved.

Lord Keith, after announcing himself for some time before, had only just made his appearance. It was evident that our company was shunned, our conversation avoided. The papers contained an account of the measures which were about to be taken; but, as nothing official had appeared, and there was some contradiction in the details, we were induced to flatter ourselves as to the final result: thus remaining in that state of suspense and uncertainty which is worse than a knowledge of the most painful truths. Nevertheless, our arrival in England had produced a singular sensation: the presence of the Emperor excited a curiosity bordering on delirium. It was the papers themselves that informed us of the circumstance, while they condemned it. All England seemed to hurry towards Plymouth. A person who had left London, on hearing of my arrival, was obliged to stop on the road for want of post-horses and accommodation. The Sound was covered with an immense number of boats; for some of which, as we heard, above fifty pounds had been paid.

The Emperor, to whom I read all the newspapers, did not betray any decrease of composure either by his conversation or general habits. It was known that he always appeared on deck towards five o’clock. A short time before this hour, all the boats collected alongside of each other; there were thousands; and so closely connected that the water could no longer be seen between them; they looked more like a multitude assembled in a public square than any thing else. When the Emperor came out, the noise and gestures of so many people presented a most striking spectacle: it was, at the same time, very easy to perceive that nothing hostile was meant, and that if curiosity had brought them, they felt interested on going away; we could even see that the latter sentiment continued to increase;—at first people merely looked towards the ship, they ended by saluting; some remained uncovered, and occasionally went so far as to cheer. Even our symbols began to appear amongst them. Several persons of both sexes came decorated with red carnations, but this was only turned to our detriment in the eyes of the Ministry and its partisans, so that it rendered our agony more poignant.

It was under these circumstances that the Emperor, who, notwithstanding his calm demeanor, could not help being struck by what he heard, dictated a paper to me, worthy of serving as a model to jurists, discussing and defending his real political situation; we found means of conveying it on shore, but I have kept no copy.

MINISTERIAL DECISION.

29th—30th. A report had circulated, during the two previous days, that an under-secretary of state coming from London to notify the resolutions of the Ministers with respect to the Emperor, officially. Accordingly he appeared; it was Sir Charles Bunbury: he came on board, accompanied by Lord Keith, and delivered a dispatch ordering the removal of the Emperor to St. Helena, and limiting the number of persons who were to accompany Napoleon to three, excluding, however, the Duke de Rovigo and General Lallemand, comprised in the list of proscribed.

I was not called before the Emperor. The bearers of his sentence spoke and understood French; they were admitted alone. I have since heard that he objected and protested, with no less energy than logic, against the violence exercised on his person. “He was the guest of England,” said he, “and not her prisoner; he came of his own accord to place himself under the protection of her laws; the most sacred rights of hospitality were violated in his person; he would never submit voluntarily to the outrage with which they threatened him; violence alone should oblige him to do so, &c.”

The Emperor gave me the ministerial document to translate for him, of which the following is a copy:

COMMUNICATION MADE BY LORD KEITH, IN THE NAME
OF THE ENGLISH MINISTERS.

“As it may, perhaps, be convenient for General Buonaparte to learn, without farther delay, the intentions of the British Government with regard to him, your Lordship will communicate the following information:

“It would be inconsistent with our duty towards our country and the allies of his Majesty, if General Buonaparte possessed the means of again disturbing the repose of Europe. It is on this account that it becomes absolutely necessary he should be restrained in his personal liberty, so far as this is required by the foregoing important object.

“The island of St. Helena has been chosen as his future residence; its climate is healthy, and its local position will allow of his being treated with more indulgence than could be admitted in any other spot, owing to the indispensable precautions which it would be necessary[necessary] to employ for the security of his person.

“General Buonaparte is allowed to select amongst those persons who accompanied him to England (with the exception of Generals Savary and Lallemand) three officers, who, together with his surgeon, will have permission to accompany him to St. Helena; these individuals will not be allowed to quit the island without the sanction of the British Government.

“Rear-Admiral Sir George Cockburn, who is named Commander-in-chief at the Cape of Good Hope and seas adjacent, will convey General Buonaparte and his suite to St. Helena; and he will receive detailed instructions relative to the execution of this service.

“Sir G. Cockburn will, most probably, be ready to sail in a few days; for which reason it is desirable that General Buonaparte should make choice of the persons who are to accompany him without delay.”

Although we expected our transportation to St. Helena, we were deeply affected by its announcement: it threw us all into a state of consternation. The Emperor did not, however, fail to appear on deck as usual, with the same countenance; and, as before, calmly surveyed the crowds which seemed so eager to see him.

31st.—Our situation had now become truly frightful; our sufferings beyond every power of description; our existence was about to cease with regard to Europe, our country, families, and friends, as well as our enjoyments and habits. It is true, we were not forced to follow the Emperor; but our choice was that of martyrs; the question was a renunciation of faith, or death. Another circumstance was added, which greatly increased our torments; this was the exclusion of Generals Savary and Lallemand, whom it struck with the utmost terror; they saw nothing but a scaffold before them, and felt persuaded that the Ministers of England, making no distinction between the political acts of a revolution, and crimes committed in a moment of tranquillity, would give them up to their enemies to be sacrificed. This would have been such an outrage on all law, such an opprobrium for England herself, that one might have been almost tempted to dare her to it: but it was only for those who were included in the same proscription to talk thus. At all events, we did not hesitate to desire that each of us might be amongst those whom the Emperor would choose; entertaining but one fear, that of finding ourselves excluded.

August 1st.—We still continued in the same state. I received a letter from London, in which it was strongly urged that I should be extremely wrong, nay that it would even be a crime to expatriate myself. The person who thus wrote also addressed Captain Maitland, begging he would assist by his efforts and counsel to dissuade me from such a resolution. But I stopped him short, by observing that, at my age, people generally acted on reflection.

I read the papers every day to the Emperor. Whether influenced by generosity, or that opinions began to be divided, there were two amongst the number that pleaded our cause with great warmth, compensating in some measure for the gross falsehoods and scurrilous abuse with which the others were filled. We gave ourselves up to the hope that the hatred inspired by an enemy would be succeeded by the interest which splendid actions ought naturally to excite; that England abounded in noble hearts and elevated minds, which would indubitably become our ardent advocates.

The number of boats increased daily. Napoleon continued to appear at his usual hour, and the reception became more and more flattering.

Numbers of every rank and condition had followed the Emperor; he was still, with regard to most of us, as if at the Tuileries; the Grand Marshal and Duke de Rovigo alone saw him habitually. Some had not approached or spoken to him more frequently than if we had been at Paris. I was called during the day, whenever there were any papers or letters to translate, until the Emperor insensibly contracted the habit of sending for me every evening towards eight o’clock, to converse with him a short time.

In the conversation of this evening, and after touching on various other subjects, he asked me whether I would accompany him to St. Helena. I replied with the greatest frankness, rendered more easy by my real sentiments, observing to his Majesty that, in quitting Paris, I had disregarded every chance; and that therefore St. Helena had nothing which could make it an exception. There were, however, a great many of us round his person, while only three were permitted to go out. As some people considered it a crime in me to leave my family, it was necessary with regard to the latter, and my own conscience, to know that I could be useful and agreeable to him—that, in fact, I required to be chosen; but that this last observation did not spring from any concealed motive, for my life was henceforth at his disposal without any restriction.

While thus engaged, Madame Bertrand, without having been called, and even without announcing her name, rushed into the cabin, and in a frantic manner, entreated the Emperor not to go to St. Helena, nor take her husband with him. But observing the astonishment, coolness, and calm answer of Napoleon, she ran out as precipitately as she had entered. The Emperor, still surprised, turned to me and said, “Can you comprehend all this? Is she not mad?” A moment afterwards loud shrieks were heard, and every body seemed to be running towards the stern of the ship. Being desired to ring the bell, and to enquire the cause, I found that Madame Bertrand, on leaving the cabin, had attempted to throw herself into the sea, and was prevented with the greatest difficulty. From this scene it is easy to judge of our feelings!

REMARKABLE WORDS OF THE EMPEROR.

2d-3d. In the morning the Duke de Rovigo told me I was certainly to depart for St. Helena: while in conversation with the Emperor, a short time before, his Majesty had said to him that, if there were only two to accompany him, I should still be one of the number, as he thought I could afford him some consolation. I am indebted to the candour and kindness of the Duke for the satisfaction of being made acquainted with this flattering assurance, and am truly grateful, as, but for him, it would never have been known to me. The Emperor had not said a word in reply to my answer; this was his custom, as I shall have other opportunities of shewing.

I had no particular acquaintance with any of those who had followed the Emperor, excepting General and and Madame Bertrand, who had shewn me great attention[attention] during my mission to Illyria, where he was Governor-General. I had until then never spoken to the Duke de Rovigo, certain prepossessions having induced me to keep at a distance; we had, however, scarcely exchanged a few words, when my scruples were completely removed. Savary was sincerely attached to the Emperor; I knew he possessed warmth of heart, sincerity, and uprightness of character, qualities which rendered him susceptible of real friendship; we should, therefore, I dare say, have become very intimate.

I was again sent for by the Emperor; who, after alluding to different subjects, began to speak of St. Helena, asking me what sort of a place it could be; whether it was possible to exist there? and similar questions. “But,” said he, “after all, is it quite certain that I shall go there? Is a man dependent on others, when he wishes that his dependence should cease?”—We continued to walk to and fro in the cabin; he seemed calm, though affected, and somewhat absent.

“My friend,” continued the Emperor, “I have sometimes an idea of quitting you, and this would not be very difficult; it is only necessary to create a little mental excitement, and I shall soon have escaped.—All will be over, and you can then quietly rejoin your families. This is the more easy, since my internal principles do not oppose any bar to it:—I am one of those who conceive that the pains of the other world were only imagined as a counterpoise to those inadequate allurements which are offered to us there. God can never have willed such a contradiction to his infinite goodness, especially for an act of this kind; and what is it after all, but wishing to return to him a little sooner?”

I remonstrated warmly against such notions. Poets and philosophers had said that it was a spectacle worthy of the Divinity, to see men struggling with fortune: reverses and constancy had their glory. Such a great and noble character as his could not descend to the level of vulgar minds; he who had governed us with so much glory, who had excited the admiration, and influenced the destinies, of the world, could not end like a desperate gamester or a disappointed lover. What would then become of all those who looked up to and placed their hopes in him? Would he thus abandon the field to his enemies? The anxiety shewn by the latter to drive him to it was surely sufficient to make him resist: who could tell the secrets of time, or dare assert what the future would produce? What might not happen from the mere change of a ministry, the death of a Prince, that of a confidant, the slightest passion, or the most trifling dispute?

“Some of these suggestions have their weight,” said the Emperor, “but what can we do in that desolate place?”—“Sire,” I replied, “we will live on the past: there is enough in it to satisfy us. Do we not enjoy the life of Cæsar and that of Alexander? We shall possess still more, you will re-peruse yourself, Sire!” “Be it so!” rejoined Napoleon; “we will write our Memoirs. Yes, we must be employed; for occupation is the scythe of Time. After all, a man ought to fulfil his destinies; this is my grand doctrine:[^[8]] let[let] mine also be accomplished.” Re-assuming from this instant an air of ease and even gaiety, he passed on to subjects totally unconnected with our situation.

DEPARTURE FROM PLYMOUTH.—CONTINUANCE IN THE CHANNEL.—PROTEST.

4th.—Orders had arrived during the night for us to sail at an early hour; we set sail, which circumstance puzzled us much. The newspapers, official communications, and private conversations, told us we were to be conveyed to St. Helena by the Northumberland: we knew that this ship was still fitting out at Portsmouth or Chatham, so that we might still calculate on eight or ten days’ delay. The Bellerophon was too old for the voyage, she had not provisions enough; moreover the wind was contrary; when therefore we saw the ship returning up Channel, our uncertainty and conjectures were renewed, but whatever these might be, every thing was welcome when compared to the idea of transportation to St. Helena.

Nevertheless, it occurred to us that, in such a decisive moment, the Emperor was bound to shew a formal opposition to this violence; as to Napoleon himself, he attached but little importance to it, nor would he trouble himself about the matter. However, said we, it will be a weapon in the hands of our friends, and leave causes of remembrance as well as grounds of defence with the public. I ventured, therefore, to read a paper I had prepared to his Majesty, with the general sense of which he seemed pleased; after suppressing a few phrases, and correcting others, it was signed and sent to Lord Keith. The following is a literal copy of this document.

PROTEST.

“I hereby solemnly protest in the face of heaven and mankind, against the violence that is done me; and the violation of my most sacred rights, in forcibly disposing of my person and liberty. I voluntarily came on board the Bellerophon—I am not the prisoner, I am the guest of England. I came at the instigation of the Captain himself, who said he had orders from the Government to receive and convey me to England, together with my suite, if agreeable to me. I came forward with confidence to place myself under the protection of the laws of England. When once on board the Bellerophon, I was entitled to the hospitality of the British people. If the Government, in giving the Captain of the Bellerophon orders to receive me and my followers, only wished to lay a snare, it has forfeited its honour and disgraced its flag.

“If this act be consummated it will be in vain for the English henceforth to talk of their sincerity, their laws, and liberties. British faith will have been lost in the hospitality of the Bellerophon.

“I appeal to history: it will say that an enemy who made war for twenty years against the English people came spontaneously, in the hour of misfortune, to seek an asylum under their laws. What more striking proof could he give of his esteem and confidence? But how did England reply to such an act of magnanimity? It pretended to hold out a hospitable hand to this enemy; and, on giving himself up with confidence, he was immolated!

(Signed) “Napoleon.”

Bellerophon at Sea, Friday, Aug. 4th, 1815.

The Duke de Rovigo told me that the Emperor had demanded permission to send me to the Prince Regent at London, but that it was obstinately refused.

The sea was rough, and the wind blew with violence. Most of us were affected with sea-sickness. But what cannot the pre-occupation of the mind effect over physical infirmities! This was perhaps the only time in my life that I was not incommoded by such weather. On leaving Plymouth Sound, we stood to the eastward before the wind, but were soon after close-hauled, tacking backwards and forwards, without being able to comprehend the cause of this new source of torment.

5th.—The whole of this day was passed in the same manner. While conversing with the Emperor in the evening he gave me two proofs of confidence, but I cannot now confide them to paper.[^[9]]

ANCHORED OFF START POINT.—PERSONS ALLOWED TO ACCOMPANY THE EMPEROR.

6th.—We anchored about noon off Start Point, where there was no shelter whatever, though we had but a very short distance to go in order to anchor in Torbay: this circumstance excited great astonishment on our part. We had, however, heard that orders were given to meet the Northumberland, the departure of which vessel from Portsmouth was urged with all possible haste. Accordingly that ship soon appeared with two frigates full of troops, which were to compose the garrison of St. Helena. These three ships anchored close to us; after which the communications amongst the whole squadron became very active. The precautions to prevent the approach of boats were still continued. Meanwhile the mystery of our precipitate sailing from Plymouth, and all the manœuvring that followed, was discovered. Lord Keith had, we were told, received notice, by telegraph, that a public officer had just left London with a writ of habeas corpus, to claim the person of the Emperor in the name of the laws or of some competent tribunal. We could neither ascertain the motives nor details of this circumstance: the Admiral, it was added, had scarcely time enough to escape this difficulty; we heard that he was suddenly obliged to go on board a brig, and quit Plymouth Sound. This was the motive which kept us out of Torbay.

Admirals Keith and Cockburn came on board the Bellerophon; the flag of the latter was flying on board the Northumberland: they had a conference with the Emperor, to whom they delivered an extract from the instructions relative to our transportation to and stay at St. Helena. These stated that all our effects were to be examined, for the purpose of taking away the money, bills, and diamonds, belonging to the Emperor, as well as ourselves, to be kept for us: we also heard that our arms would be taken from us at the same time, and that we were then to be transferred to the Northumberland. The documents were as follow:

ORDER FROM LORD KEITH TO CAPTAIN MAITLAND
OF THE BELLEROPHON.

“All arms of every description are to be taken from the French, of whatever rank, who are on board his Majesty’s ship under your command. These arms will be carefully packed, and are to remain in your charge so long as the persons to whom they belong continue on board the Bellerophon. They will then be under the charge of the captain of the ship to which the said individuals may be transferred.”

Start Bay, August 6th, 1815.

INSTRUCTIONS OF MINISTERS TO ADMIRAL COCKBURN.

“When General Buonaparte leaves the Bellerophon to go on board the Northumberland, it will be the properest moment for Admiral Cockburn to have the effects examined which General Buonaparte may have brought with him. The Admiral will allow the baggage, wines, (the wines! an observation truly worthy of the English Ministers,) and provisions which the General may have brought with him, to be taken on board the Northumberland. Among the baggage his table-service shall be understood as included, unless it be so considerable as to seem rather an article to be converted into ready money than for real use. His money, his diamonds, and his saleable effects (consequently bills of exchange also), of whatever kind they may be, must be delivered up. The Admiral will declare to the General that the British Government by no means intends to confiscate his property, but merely to take upon itself the administration of his effects, to hinder him from using them as a means to promote his escape.

“The examination shall be made in the presence of a person named by General Buonaparte, the inventory of the effects to be retained shall be signed by this person as well as by the Rear-admiral, or by the person whom we shall appoint to draw up the inventory. The interest or the principal (according as his property is more or less considerable) shall be applied to his support, and in this respect the principal arrangement is to be left to him. For this purpose he can from time to time signify his wishes to the Admiral, till the arrival of the new Governor of St. Helena, and afterwards to the latter; and, if no objection is made to his proposal, the Admiral or the Governor can give the necessary orders, and the disbursement will be paid by bills on his Majesty’s Treasury. In case of death, (what foresight!) he can dispose of his property by a last Will, and may be assured that the contents of his testament shall be faithfully executed. As an attempt might be made to make a part of his property pass for the property of the persons of his suite, it must be signified that the property of his attendants is subject to the same regulations.

“The Admiral is not to take any person on board for St. Helena, without the consent of such person, to whom he is previously to explain the necessity of being subjected to all the regulations which it may be thought proper to establish for securing the person of the General. It must be made known to the General that, if he make any attempt to escape, he will expose himself to close imprisonment; and that any of his suite who may be discovered in endeavouring to facilitate his escape will incur the same punishment. (Afterwards the Act of Parliament made the latter offence death.)

“All letters which shall be addressed to him, or to any of his suite, are to be delivered in the first place to the Admiral or the Governor, who is to read them previously to transmitting them: the same regulation is to be observed with respect to letters written by the General, or those of his suite.

“The General is to be informed that the Governor and the Admiral have received positive orders to forward to his Majesty’s Government any request or representation he may think proper to make: nothing is left to their discretion on this point; but the paper on which such representations shall be written is to remain open, in order that they may subjoin such observations as they may think expedient.”

It would not be easy to conceive the intensity and nature of our feelings at this decisive moment, in which outrage, violence, and injustice, were accumulated on our heads.

Constrained to reduce his suite to three persons, the Emperor selected the Grand Marshal, M. de Montholon and myself. Gourgaud, in despair at the idea of being left behind, entered into a negotiation on the subject, and succeeded. As the instructions only allowed Napoleon to take three officers, it was agreed that I should be considered purely in a civil capacity, and to admit a fourth by the aid of this interpretation.

CONVERSATION WITH LORD KEITH.—EXAMINATION OF THE EMPEROR’S EFFECTS.—HE QUITS THE BELLEROPHON.—SEPARATION.—WE SAIL FOR ST. HELENA.

7th.—The Emperor addressed to Lord Keith a species of new protest, against the violence done to his person in forcibly removing him from the Bellerophon. I took it on board the Tonnant. Admiral Keith, a fine-looking old man, of highly polished manners, received me with great politeness, but he carefully avoided touching on the subject of the protest, observing that he would give an answer in writing.

This did not stop me. I stated the situation of Napoleon, who was very unwell, his legs being much swelled; and pointed out to his lordship how desirable it was for the Emperor not to be sent off so suddenly. He replied that I had been a sailor, and must therefore see that the anchorage was unsafe, which was certainly true.

I explained the Emperor’s repugnance to have his effects searched and tossed about, as proposed; assuring him that Napoleon would infinitely prefer seeing them thrown into the sea. The Admiral answered that as this was a positive order, he must obey it. Finally I enquired whether it was probable that those appointed to search would go so far as to deprive the Emperor of his sword. He said that it would be respected, but that Napoleon was the only person exempted, as all his followers would be disarmed. I shewed him that I was already so: my sword having been taken from me before I left the Bellerophon. A secretary who was writing near us, observed to Lord Keith, in English, that the order stated that Napoleon himself was to be disarmed; upon which the Admiral drily replied, also in English, as well as I could comprehend, “Mind your own business, Sir, and leave us to ours.”

Still continuing the conversation, I went over all that had occurred from the commencement. I had been the negotiator, I said, and ought therefore to feel most acutely; and had the greater right to be heard. Lord Keith listened to me with marked impatience; we were standing, and his frequent bows were evidently intended to make me retire. When I told him that Captain Maitland said he had been authorised to bring us to England, without exciting a suspicion in our minds that we were to be prisoners of war; that the Captain could not deny that we came on board voluntarily and in confidence; that the letter of the Emperor to the Prince of Wales, which I had previously communicated to Captain Maitland, must necessarily have created tacit conditions, since he made no remarks on it: at length the Admiral’s ill-humour and even anger broke forth, and he replied sharply, that if such were the case, Captain Maitland must have been a fool, for his instructions contained nothing of the kind; and he was quite sure of this, for it was from himself they had emanated. “But, my Lord,” said I, “permit me to observe, in defence of Captain Maitland, that your Lordship speaks with a degree of severity for which you may become responsible; for not only Captain Maitland, but Admiral Hotham and all the other officers whom we saw at the time, conducted and expressed themselves in the same way towards us; would it have been thus, if their instructions had been so clear and positive?” Saying this, I relieved the Admiral of my presence: he made no attempt to prolong a subject which, perhaps, his Lordship’s conscience rendered somewhat painful to him.

Admiral Cockburn, aided by an officer of the customs, examined the effects of the Emperor: they seized four thousand Napoleons, and left fifteen hundred to pay the servants: this was all the Emperor’s treasure. They were assisted, or rather impeded, in the operation by Marchand, the valet-de-chambre of his Majesty: this appeared to mortify the Admiral excessively; though requested to attend, not one amongst us would lend his presence to, or witness, an act which we regarded as being at once mean and insulting.

Meanwhile, the moment of quitting the Bellerophon arrived. The Grand Marshal had been some time closeted with the Emperor; during which we remained in the outer cabin: on the door being opened, the Duke de Rovigo, bursting into tears, threw himself at the feet of Napoleon, and kissed his hands. The Emperor, still calm and collected, embraced the Duke, and continued his way towards the accommodation[accommodation]-ladder, graciously saluting all those who happened to be on the quarter-deck. The whole of our party whom we left behind were in a state of the deepest anguish; nor could I help observing to Lord Keith, who stood near me at the time, “You see, my Lord, that the only persons who shed tears are those who are to remain.”

We reached the Northumberland between one and two o’clock. The Emperor remained on deck conversing familiarly and cheerfully with those of the English who approached him. Lord Lowther and a Mr. Littleton had a long conversation with him on politics and government. I heard nothing of what passed; the Emperor seemed desirous that we should leave him to himself. I employed this moment of leisure in writing a last adieu to my wife and friends: indeed, I felt very unwell and much fatigued.

At the moment of getting under weigh, a cutter, that was plying round the ship to keep off the people, ran down a boat full of spectators close to us. Fatality seems to have brought them from a great distance to become the victims of this accident: I understood that there were two women amongst those who perished. Thus were we at length under sail for St. Helena, thirteen days after our arrival at Plymouth, and forty from our quitting Paris.

Those of the attendants whom Napoleon was not allowed to take with him were the last to quit the ship, bearing with them mingled proofs of satisfaction and regret. Their departure gave rise to a second scene, not less affecting than the first. The Emperor retired to the cabin allotted to him about seven o’clock.

The English Ministry warmly censured the respect which had been shewn to the Emperor on board[board] the Bellerophon, and issued fresh orders in consequence; so that a totally different style of manner and expression was affected in the Northumberland. The crew seemed to betray a ridiculous anxiety to be covered before the Emperor: it had been strictly enjoined to give him no other title than that of General, and only to treat him as such. This was the ingenious contrivance, the happy conception, engendered by the diplomacy of the English Ministers; and the title they thought proper to confer on him whom they had recognised as First Consul, whom they had so often styled head of the French Government, with whom they treated as Emperor at Paris, when Lord Lauderdale was employed to negotiate, and, perhaps, even signed articles at Chatillon. Hence, in a moment of warmth, the Emperor, in allusion to this regulation, observed: “They may call me whatever they choose, but they cannot prevent me from being myself.” It was in fact no less whimsical than ridiculous to see the Ministers of England attach such importance to giving only the title of General to one who had governed so large a portion of Europe, and made seven or eight kings, of whom several still retained this title of his creation; who had been above ten years Emperor of the French, and been anointed as well as consecrated in that quality by the head of the Church; one who could boast two or three elections of the French people to the sovereignty; who had been acknowledged as Emperor by the whole of continental Europe; had treated as such with all the sovereigns; concluding every species of alliance both of blood and interest with them: so that he united in his person every title, civil, political and religious, existing amongst men: and which, by a singular though real coincidence, not one of the reigning Princes of Europe could have shewn accumulated in an equal degree, on the chief and founder of his dynasty. Nevertheless his Majesty, who intended, had he landed in England, to assume the name and title of Colonel Duroc or Muiron, no longer thought of it now that his legitimate titles were obstinately disputed.

DESCRIPTION OF THE EMPEROR’S CABIN ON BOARD THE NORTHUMBERLAND.

8th-9th. The ship was in the greatest confusion, and seemed to be quite encumbered with men as well as stores and luggage: we sailed in so great a hurry that there was scarcely any thing on board in its place, so that the whole crew was now occupied in restoring order, and preparing for the voyage.

The following particulars will afford some idea of that part of the ship occupied by the Emperor and his suite. The space abaft the mizen-mast contained two public and two private cabins; the first was a dining-room about ten feet broad, and extending the whole width of the ship, lighted by a port-hole at each end, and a sky-light above. The drawing-room was composed of all the remaining space, diminished by two symmetrical cabins on the right and left, each having an entry from the dining or mess-room, and another from the drawing-room. The Emperor occupied that on the left, in which his camp bed-stead had been put up; that on the right was appropriated to the Admiral. It was, above all, peremptorily enjoined that the drawing-room should be in common, and not given up to the Emperor: to such a ridiculous extent had the fears and solicitude of the Ministry been carried!

The form of the dining-table resembled that of the mess-room. The Emperor sat with his back to the drawing-room or after-cabin, and looking towards the head of the ship; on his left sat Madame Bertrand, and on his right, the Admiral. On the right of the Admiral sat Madame de Montholon: these filled one side of the table. At the end next that lady was Captain Ross, who commanded the ship; opposite to whom, at the corresponding end, sat M. de Montholon, by Madame Bertrand; next to him, the Admiral’s secretary. The remaining space was the side of the table opposite to the Emperor, which, beginning from Captain Ross, was occupied by the Grand Marshal, the General commanding the 53rd regiment, myself, and Baron Gourgaud.

The Admiral invited one or two of the officers every day, who were intermixed amongst us at table. I generally sat almost opposite to the Emperor. The band of the 53d, which had been recently formed, exercised during dinner at the expense of our ears. We had two courses, but there was a want of provisions; our tastes were, besides, very different from those of our hosts. It is true, they did their utmost; but after all, it would not do to be difficult. I was lodged with my son on the starboard side, even with the main-mast, in a small cabin enclosed with canvass, and having a gun in it. We made as much sail as the wind would permit to get out of the Channel, and stood along the coast of England, communicating with all the ports in order to procure additional supplies of sea-stock, and complete the stores of the ship. A large quantity of articles was brought to us from Plymouth, off which port we were joined by several other vessels, as well as from Falmouth.

LOST SIGHT OF LAND.—REFLECTIONS.—ARGUMENT AGAINST THE ENGLISH MINISTERS.

10.—This day we cleared the Channel, and lost sight of land. We had now entered upon the dreary unknown course to which fate had doomed us. Again my agonies were renewed; again the dear connexions I had abandoned resumed their influence over my heart. I indulged in the luxuriance of grief, and found a miserable satisfaction in its excess. “Objects of all my affections,” I exclaimed, “friends of my heart, for whom alone I live, reflect that I am proving myself worthy of you. Let that thought support you also; and, oh! forget me not.”

Meanwhile we advanced in our course, and were soon to be out of Europe. Thus, in less than six weeks, had the Emperor abdicated his throne, and placed himself in the hands of the English, who were now hurrying him to a barren rock in the midst of a vast ocean! This is certainly no ordinary instance of the chances of fortune, and no common trial of the firmness of the mind. Yet will posterity be better able to judge of these three leading circumstances than we of the present day. They will have to pronounce on a clear horizon; whereas we are enveloped in clouds.

Scarcely had Napoleon descended from his throne, when those who witnessed the misfortunes of the nation, which followed, regarded his sacrifice as a capital error. When they heard of his being a prisoner at Plymouth, they censured his magnanimity; there was not a single incident, even to his suffering himself to be sent to St. Helena, which they did not make a subject of reproach. But such is the tendency of vulgar minds: never judging except on what they see at the moment! It is, however, impossible to judge of one resolution without considering, not only the evils which unavoidably attend it, but those which a contrary determination might have produced.

By abdicating, Napoleon rallied all the friends of their country round one point—that of its safety! He left France demanding, before all nations, nothing but the sacred rights of national independence; he took from the Allies every pretext to ravage and dismember our territory; he destroyed all idea of his personal ambition; terminating his career as the martyr of a cause of which he had been the hero. If all the advantages which might have been derived from his genius and talents as a citizen were not obtained, it is to be imputed to the weakness and treachery of the transitory Government by which he was succeeded. When he arrived at Rochefort, and the commander of the frigates refused to sail, ought he to have abandoned the fruits of his abdication? Should he have returned to the interior, and placed himself at the head of mere bands, when he had renounced armies? or, ought he to have desperately encouraged a civil war which would lead to no beneficial result, but only serve to ruin the remaining pillars, the future hopes, of the country? In this state of affairs, he formed a most magnanimous resolution, worthy of his life, and a complete refutation of the calumnies that for twenty years had been so ridiculously accumulated on his head. But what will history say of those Ministers of a liberal nation, the guardians and depositaries of popular rights—ever ardent in encouraging a Coriolanus, having only chains for a Camillus?

As to the reproach of suffering himself to be transported to St. Helena, it would be a disgrace to answer such a charge. To contend with an adversary in the cabin of a ship—kill some one with his own hand—or attempt to set fire to the powder-magazine, would have been, at best, the act of a Buccaneer. Dignity in misfortune, submission to necessity, have also their glory: it is that which becomes great men overwhelmed by adversity.

When the English Ministers found themselves in possession of Napoleon’s person, passion had much more influence over them than justice or policy. They neglected the triumph of their laws, denied the rights of hospitality, disregarded their own honour, and compromised that of their country. They determined to exile their guest in the midst of the ocean, to keep him prisoner on a rock, two thousand leagues from Europe, and far from all communion with mankind. It seemed that they wished to trust to the anguish of exile, the fatigues of a long voyage, privations of every kind, and the corroding influence of a burning climate, for effecting that which they feared to perform themselves. In order, however, to gain over the public voice, to make it appear that their conduct was indispensably necessary, the newspapers were instigated to irritate the passions of the multitude, by reviving former calumnies and falsehoods; while the Ministers, on their side, represented their own determination as an engagement entered into with their allies. We presented ourselves at the moment of popular effervescence, just as every thing which could render us odious had been brought forward. The public journals were full of the most virulent declamations; maliciously raking up every act and expression of the previous struggle of twenty years that could wound the national pride, or rekindle its hatred. Yet, when all England hurried to the south to see us, during our stay at Plymouth, the conduct and sentiments of the multitudes who came were enough to convince us that this factitious irritation would disappear of itself. Hence we were led to hope, on our departure, that the British people would daily grow more impartial in a cause to which they were no longer parties; that the current of public opinion would eventually turn against Ministers; and that we had thus ensured them formidable attacks and a terrible responsibility for a future day.

THE EMPEROR’S MODE OF LIVING ON BOARD
THE NORTHUMBERLAND.

11th—14th. Our course was shaped across the Bay of Biscay, and double Cape Finisterre. The wind was fair, though light; and the heat excessive: nothing could be more monotonous than the time we now passed. The Emperor breakfasted in his own cabin at irregular hours; we took our breakfast at ten o’clock, in the French style, while the English continued to breakfast in their own way at eight.

The Emperor sent for one of us every morning to know what was going on, the distance run, the state of the wind, and other particulars connected with our progress. He read much, dressed towards four o’clock, and then came into the general cabin; here he played at chess with one of the party: at five o’clock the Admiral, having come out of his cabin a few minutes before, announced that dinner was on the table.

It is well known that Napoleon was scarcely ever more than fifteen minutes at his dinner; here the two courses alone occupied from an hour to an hour and a half: this was to him a most serious annoyance, though he never mentioned it; his features, gestures, and manner, always evinced perfect indifference. Neither the new system of cookery, the difference nor quality of the dishes, ever met with his censure or approbation; he never expressed any wish or objection on the subject. He was attended by his two valets, who stood behind his chair. At first the Admiral was in the habit of offering to help the Emperor; but the acknowledgment of Napoleon was expressed so coldly that this practice was discontinued. The Admiral continued very attentive, but thenceforth only pointed out to the servants what was preferable; they alone attended to these matters, to which the Emperor seemed totally indifferent, neither seeing, noticing, nor seeking, any thing. He was generally silent, remaining in the midst of conversation as if totally unacquainted[unacquainted] with the language, though it was French. If he spoke, it was to ask some technical or scientific question, and to address a few words to those whom the Admiral occasionally asked to dinner. I was the person to whom the Emperor generally addressed his questions, in order to translate them.

I need scarcely observe that the English are accustomed to remain a long time at table after the dessert, drinking and conversing: the Emperor, already tired by the tedious dinner, could never have endured this custom, and he rose, therefore from the first day, immediately after coffee had been handed round, and went out on deck followed by the Grand Marshal and myself. This disconcerted the Admiral, who took occasion to express his surprise to his officers; but Madame Bertrand, whose maternal language is English, warmly replied—“Do not forget, Admiral, that your guest is a man who has governed a large portion of the world, and that kings once contended for the honour of being admitted to his table.” “Very true,” rejoined the Admiral; and this officer, who possesses good sense, a becoming pliability of manners, and sometimes much elegance, did his utmost from that moment to accommodate the Emperor in his habits. He shortened the time of sitting at table, ordering coffee for Napoleon and those who accompanied him, even before the rest of the company had finished their dinner. The moment Napoleon had taken his coffee, he left the cabin; upon which every body rose till he had quitted the room, and then continued to take their wine for another hour.

The Emperor remained walking on deck till dark, attended by the Grand Marshal and myself. This became a regular practice, and was seldom omitted. On returning to the after-cabin, he sat down to play vingt-et-un with us, and generally retired in about half an hour.

SINGULAR GOOD FORTUNE OF THE EMPEROR.

15th.—We asked permission to be admitted into the Emperor’s presence this morning, and all entered his cabin at the same time. He was not aware of the cause of this visit:—it was his birthday, which seemed to have altogether escaped his recollection. We had been in the habit of seeing him on that anniversary, on a much larger stage, and in the midst of his power, but never were our wishes more sincere, or our hearts more full of attachment, than on the present occasion.

The days now exactly resembled each other: at night we constantly played at vingt-et-un; the Admiral and some of his officers being occasionally of the party. The Emperor used to retire after losing, according to custom his ten or twelve Napoleons; this happened to him daily, because he would persist in leaving his stake on the table, until it had produced a considerable number. To-day he had gained from eighty to a hundred. The Admiral dealt the cards: the Emperor still wished to leave his winnings, in order to see how far he could reach; but thought he could perceive it would be quite as agreeable to the Admiral if he stopped where he was. The Emperor had won sixteen times, and might have won more than sixty thousand Napoleons. While all present were expatiating on his being thus singularly favoured by fortune, an English officer observed that it was the anniversary of his birth-day.

CONTINUATION OF THE VOYAGE.—OCCUPATIONS.—THE
EMPEROR’S ORIGIN AND FAMILY.—ANECDOTES.

16th—21st. We doubled Cape Finisterre on the 16th, passed Cape St. Vincent on the 18th, and were off the Straits of Gibraltar next day. Continuing our course along the coast of Africa towards Madeira, nothing worthy of remark occurred, there being a perfect uniformity in our habits and mode of passing the time; if there was any difference, it could only arise from the subject of our conversation.

The Emperor usually remained in his cabin during the whole morning: so excessive was the heat that he only wore a very slight dress. He could not sleep, and frequently rose in the night. Reading was his chief occupation. I was sent for almost every morning, and translated from the “Encyclopædia Britannica,” and such other books as were on board, whatever they contained relative to St. Helena, or the countries near which we were sailing. This led to my Historical Atlas being brought under review. Napoleon had merely glanced at it on board the Bellerophon, and before that time he had but a very indistinct notion of the work. I now had the satisfaction of seeing it in the Emperor’s hands for several days, and of hearing him express the warmest approbation of my labours. The quantity and arrangement[arrangement] of the matter seemed more particularly to please him: he had, in fact, hitherto been but little acquainted with the book. Passing over all the others, his chief attention was attracted by the geographical charts; more especially the map of the world, which seemed principally to excite his notice and applause. I did not attempt to convince him that the geography was the weakest part of the work, displaying far less labour and research than other parts; the general tables could not easily be surpassed, either as to their method, symmetry, or facility for use; while each of the genealogical tables presented a miniature history of the country they concerned and of which they were, in all respects, both a complete analysis and a collection of elementary materials.

The Emperor asked me whether the work had been used in all our systems of education; adding, that had it been better known to him, all the schools and lyceums should have been furnished with it. He further asked, why I had published it under the borrowed name of Le Sage? I replied that a very imperfect sketch had been published in England, just after my emigration, at a time when we could not acknowledge our names as emigrants abroad, without danger to our relations in France; “and, perhaps,” said I, laughing, “I was not then cured of the prejudices of my youth; like the nobles of Bretagne, who deposited their swords with the registrar of the Civil Court, while engaged in trade, that they might not derogate from their family dignity.”

As already observed, the Emperor always rose from table long before the rest of the company: the Grand[Grand] Marshal and I always followed him to the quarter-deck, where I was frequently left alone with him; as General Bertrand had often to attend his wife, who suffered excessively from sea-sickness.

After the preliminary remarks on the weather, the ship’s progress, and the winds, Napoleon used to start a subject of conversation, or revive that of the preceding or some other former, day; and when he had taken eight or nine turns the whole length of the deck, he would seat himself on the second gun from the gangway on the larboard side. The midshipmen soon observed this habitual predilection, so that the cannon was thenceforth called the Emperor’s gun.

It was there that Napoleon often conversed for hours together, and that I learned for the first time a part of what I am about to relate: in doing which, I wish to observe that I shall at the same time add whatever I collected in a variety of subsequent conversations; thus presenting at one view, all that I have heard worth noting on the subject.

The name of Bonaparte may be spelt either Bonaparte or Buonaparte; as all Italians know. Napoleon’s father always introduced the u; and his uncle, the Archdeacon Lucien (who survived Napoleon’s father and was a parent to Napoleon and his brothers), at the same time, and under the same roof, wrote it Bonaparte. During his youth, Napoleon followed the example of his father. On attaining the command of the Army of Italy he took good care not to alter the orthography, which agreed with the spirit of the language; but at a later period, and when amongst the French, he wished to adopt their orthography, and thenceforth wrote his name Bonaparte.

This family for many years made a distinguished figure in the Bolognese territory: it was very powerful at Treviso; and is to be found inscribed in the Golden book of Bologna, as also amongst the patricians of Florence. When Napoleon, as General in chief of the army of Italy, entered Treviso, at the head of his victorious army, the principal inhabitants came to meet him, bringing title deeds and records, which proved that his family had once been one of the most eminent in their city.

At the interview of Dresden, before the Russian campaign, the Emperor Francis one day told Napoleon, then his son-in-law, that his family had governed as sovereigns at Treviso: a fact of which there could be no doubt, as Francis had caused all the documents proving it to be drawn up and presented to him. Napoleon replied, with a smile, that he did not wish to know anything about it, and that he preferred being the Rodolph of Hapsburgh of his own family. Francis attached much more importance to the matter: he said that it was of very little consequence to have fallen from wealth to poverty; but that it was above all price to have been of sovereign rank, and that the fact must be communicated to Maria Louisa, to whom it would afford infinite pleasure.

When, during the campaign of Italy, Napoleon entered Bologna, Marescalchi, Caprara, and Aldini, since so well known in France, and at that time deputies in the senate of their native city, came of their own accord to present the golden book, in which the name and arms of his ancestors were inscribed.

There are several houses at Florence which attest the former existence of the Buonaparte family there; many houses are even still seen bearing the escutcheons of the family.

Cesari, a Corsican or Bolognese, residing in London, who was shocked at the manner in which the British Government had received Napoleon’s[Napoleon’s] pacific letter on assuming the Consulate, published a genealogical notice, wherein he established the Emperor’s alliance with the ancient house of Este, Welf, or Guelf, supposed to be the parent stem of the present royal family of England.[^[10]]

The Duke de Feltre, French ambassador in Tuscany, brought to Paris, from the Gallery de Medici, the portrait of a Buonaparte who had married a princess of the Grand Duke’s family. The mother of Pope Nicholas V. or Paul V., of Sarzana, was also a Buonaparte.

It was a Buonaparte who negotiated the treaty by which Leghorn was exchanged for Sarzana. It is to a Buonaparte that we are indebted for one of the oldest comedies written at the period of the revival of letters intitled The Widow. It may still be seen in the Royal Library at Paris.[^[11]]

When Napoleon marched against Rome at the head of the French army, and received the propositions of the Pope at Tolentino, one of the negotiators of the enemy observed that he was the only Frenchman who had marched against Rome since the Constable de Bourbon; but what rendered this circumstance still more singular was that the history of the first expedition was written by an ancestor of him who executed the second, that is to say, Signor Niccolo Buonaparte, who has in reality left us a work, called The Sacking of Rome by the Constable de Bourbon.[^[12]]

Hence, perhaps, or from the Pope mentioned above, the name of Niccolo, which the writers of certain pamphlets pretended to be that of the Emperor, instead of Napoleon. This work is to be found in most libraries; it is preceded by a history of the house of Buonaparte, printed about forty or fifty years ago, and edited by Dr. Vaccha, a professor of Pisa.

M. de Cetto, ambassador of Bavaria, has often told me that the archives of Munich contained a great number of documents, in Italian, which proved the antiquity and importance of the Buonaparte family.

During the continuance of his power, Napoleon always refused to take any pains, or even to enter into conversation, on the subject. The first attempt to turn his attention to this matter occurred in the time of his Consulate, and was so much discouraged that no one ever sought to renew the discussion. Some person published a genealogy, in which he contrived to connect the family of Napoleon with certain northern kings. Napoleon caused this specimen of flattery to be ridiculed in the public papers in which the writers concluded by observing that the nobility of the First Consul only dated from Montenotte, or from the 18th of Brumaire.

This family suffered, like many others, from the numerous revolutions which desolated the cities of Italy. The troubles of Florence placed the Buonapartes amongst the fuorusciti, or emigrants. One of the family retired to Sarzana in the first instance, and thence went to Corsica, from which island his descendants always continued to send their children to Tuscany, where they were educated under the care of the branch that remained at San Miniato. The second sons of this branch had borne the name of Napoleon for several generations, which was derived from an ancestor thus named, celebrated in the annals of Italy.

When on his way to Florence, after the expedition to Leghorn, Napoleon slept at the house of an old Abbé Buonaparte, at San Miniato, who treated the whole of his staff with great magnificence. Having exhausted all the family recollections, the Abbé told the young General that he was going to bring forth the most precious document of all. Napoleon thought he was about to shew him a fine genealogical tree, well calculated to gratify his vanity (said he, laughing); but it was a memorial regularly drawn up in favour of father Buonaventura Buonaparte, a Capuchin friar of Bologna, long since beatified, but who had not yet been canonized owing to the enormous expense which it required. “The Pope will not refuse you,” said the good Abbé, “if you ask him; and should it be necessary to pay the sum now, it will be a mere trifle for you.” Napoleon laughed heartily at this simplicity, so little in harmony with the manners of the day: the old man never dreamt that the saints were no longer in fashion.

On reaching Florence, Napoleon conceived it would be very satisfactory to his namesake to send him the ribbon of the order of St. Stephen, of which he was merely a knight; but the pious Abbé was much less anxious about the favours of this world than the religious justice which he so pertinaciously claimed: and, as it afterwards appeared, not without reason. The Pope, when he came to Paris to crown the Emperor, also recurred to the claims of Father Buonaventura. “It was doubtless he,” said the Pope, “who, from his seat amongst the blessed, had led his relative, as it were, by the hand through the glorious earthly career he had traversed; and who had preserved Napoleon in the midst of so many dangers and battles.” The Emperor, however, always turned a deaf ear to these remarks; leaving it to the holy father’s own discretion to provide for the glory of Buonaventura. As to the old Abbé of San Miniato, he left his fortune to Napoleon, who presented it to one of the public establishments in Tuscany.

It would, however, be very difficult to connect any genealogical data in this place, from the conversations of the Emperor, who used often to say he had never looked at one of his parchments: these having always remained in the hands of his brother Joseph, whom he styled the “genealogist of the family.” And, lest I may forget it, I will here mention the fact of Napoleon’s having, when on the point of embarking, delivered a packet to his brother, containing all the original letters addressed to him by the sovereigns of Europe in their own hand-writing. I frequently expressed my regret to the Emperor at his parting with such a precious historical manuscript.[^[13]]

Charles Buonaparte, the father of Napoleon, was extremely tall, handsome, and well-made; his education had been well conducted at Rome and Pisa, where he studied the law: he is said to have possessed great spirit and energy. It was he who, on its being proposed to submit to France, in the public assembly of Corsica, delivered a speech which electrified the whole country: he was not more than twenty years of age at this period. “If it only depended on the will to become free,” said he, “all nations would be so; yet history teaches us that very few have attained the blessings of liberty, because few have had energy, courage, and virtue enough to deserve them.”

When the island was conquered, he wished to accompany Paoli in his emigration; but an old uncle, the Archdeacon Lucien, who exercised the authority of a parent over him, prevented his departure.

In 1779, Charles Buonaparte was elected deputy to represent the nobles of Corsica at Paris, whither he brought young Napoleon with him, then only ten years old. He passed through Florence on his way, and obtained a letter of introduction from the Grand Duke Leopold to his sister the Queen of France. It was to his known rank and the respectability of his name and family in Tuscany, that he was indebted for this mark of attention.

Charles Bonaparte.
London. Published for Henry Colburn. January, 1836.

There were two French generals in Corsica, at the above period, so inimical to each other that their quarrels formed two parties; one was M. de Marbeuf, a mild and popular character, and the other, M. de Narbonne Pellet, distinguished for haughtiness and violence. The latter, from his birth and superior interest, must have been a dangerous man for his rival: fortunately for M. de Marbeuf, he was much more beloved in the island. When the deputation headed by Charles Buonaparte arrived at Versailles, he was consulted on the dispute, and the warmth of his testimony obtained a triumph for Marbeuf. The Archbishop of Lyons, nephew to Marbeuf, thought it his duty to wait on the deputy, and thank him for the service he had rendered. On young Napoleon’s being placed in the military school of Brienne, the Archbishop gave him a special recommendation to the family of Brienne, which lived there during the greater part of the year: hence the friendly demeanour of the Marbeufs and Briennes towards the children of the Buonaparte family. Calumny has assigned another cause, but the simple examination of dates is fully sufficient to prove its absurdity.

Old M. de Marbeuf, who commanded in Corsica, lived at Ajaccio, where the family of Charles Buonaparte was one of the principal. Madame Buonaparte being the most fascinating and beautiful woman in the town, it was very natural for the General to frequent her house in preference to many other places of resort.

Charles Buonaparte died at the age of thirty-eight, of an induration in the glands of the stomach. He had experienced a temporary cure during one of his visits to Paris, but became the victim of a second attack at Montpellier, where he was interred in one of the convents of the city.

During the Consulate, the notables of Montpellier, through the medium of their countryman Chaptal, minister of the interior, solicited the permission of the First Consul to erect a monument to the memory of his father. Napoleon thanked them for their good intentions, but declined acceding to their solicitation. “Let us not disturb the repose of the dead,” said he; “let their ashes remain in peace. I have also lost my grandfather and great-grandfather; why not erect monuments to them? This might lead too far. Had my father died yesterday, it would be proper and natural that my grief should be accompanied by some signal mark of respect. But his death took place twenty years ago: it is an event of no public interest, and it is useless to revive the recollection of it.” At a subsequent period Louis Buonaparte, without the knowledge of Napoleon, had his father’s remains disinterred, and removed to St. Leu, where he erected a monument to his memory.

Charles Buonaparte had been the very reverse of devout; he had even written some anti-religious poems; and yet, at the period of his death, said the Emperor, there were not priests enough for him in Montpellier. In this respect he was very different from his brother Archdeacon Lucien, a very pious and orthodox ecclesiastic, who died long after him, at a very advanced age. On his death-bed, he took great umbrage at Fesch, who, being by this time a priest, ran to him in his stole and surplice to assist him in his last moments. Lucien begged that he would suffer him to die in peace, and he breathed his last surrounded by the members of his family, giving them philosophic counsel and patriarchal benedictions.

The Emperor frequently spoke of his old uncle, who had been a second father to him, and who was for a length of time the head of the family. He was Archdeacon of Ajaccio, one of the principal dignitaries of the island. His prudence and economy re-established the affairs of the family, which had been much deranged by the extravagance of Charles. The old uncle was much revered, and enjoyed considerable authority in the district: the peasantry voluntarily submitted their disputes to his decision, and he freely gave them his advice and his blessing.

Letizia Buonaparte
Published for Henry Colburn, Dec. 1835.

Charles Buonaparte married Mademoiselle Letitia Ramolini, whose mother, after the death of her first husband, married Captain Fesch, an officer in one of the Swiss regiments, which the Genoese usually maintained in the island. Cardinal Fesch was the issue of this second marriage, and was consequently step-brother to Madame and uncle to the Emperor.

Madame was one of the most beautiful women of her day, and she was celebrated throughout Corsica. Paoli, in the time of his power, having received an embassy from Algiers or Tunis, wished to give the Barbary envoys some notion of the attractions of the island, and for this purpose he assembled together all the most beautiful women in Corsica, among whom Madame took the lead. Subsequently, when she travelled to Brienne to see her son, her personal charms were remarked even in Paris.

During the war for Corsican liberty, Madame Buonaparte shared the dangers of her husband, who was an enthusiast in the cause. In his different expeditions she frequently followed him on horseback, while she was pregnant with Napoleon. She was a woman of extraordinary vigour of mind, joined to considerable pride and loftiness of spirit. She was the mother of thirteen children, and she might have had many more, for she was a widow at the age of thirty. Of these thirteen children, only five boys and three girls lived, all of whom performed distinguished parts in the reign of Napoleon.

Joseph, the eldest of the family, was originally intended for the church, on account of the influence possessed by Marbeuf, archbishop of Lyons, who had the patronage of numerous livings. He went through the regular course of study; but when the moment arrived for taking orders, he refused to enter the ecclesiastical profession. He was successively King of Naples and Spain.

Louis was King of Holland, and Jerome King of Westphalia. Eliza was Grand Duchess of Tuscany; Caroline, Queen of Naples; and Pauline, Princess Borghese. Lucien, who through his marriage and a mistaken direction of character, doubtless forfeited a crown, atoned for all his past errors by throwing himself into the arms of the Emperor on his return from Elba, at a moment when Napoleon was far from relying on the certainty of his prospects. Lucien, the Emperor used to say, passed a turbulent career in his youth: at the age of fifteen he was taken to France by M. Semonville, who soon made him a zealous revolutionist and an ardent clubist. On this subject the Emperor said that in the numerous libels published against him were some addresses or letters, bearing, among other signatures, that of Brutus Buonaparte, which were attributed to him, Napoleon; he would not affirm, he added, that these addresses were not written by some individual of the family, but he could declare that they were not his production.

I had the opportunity of rendering myself acquainted with the sentiments of Prince Lucien, on the Emperor’s return from Elba, and am enabled to say that it would have been difficult for any man to have been more upright and steady in his political views, or to have evinced greater attachment and good-will towards his brother.

MADEIRA, &c.—VIOLENT GALE.—CHESS.

22nd–26th. On the 22nd we came within sight of Madeira, and at night arrived off the port. Only two of the vessels cast anchor, to take on board supplies for the squadron. The wind blew very hard, and the sea was exceedingly rough. The Emperor found himself indisposed, and I was also ill. A sudden gale arose; the air was excessively hot, and seemed to be impregnated with small particles of sand—we were now assailed by the emanations of the terrible winds from the deserts of Africa. This weather lasted throughout the whole of the following day. Our communication with the shore became extremely difficult. The English Consul came on board, and informed us that for many years there had not been such a hurricane at Madeira; the vintage was entirely destroyed, all the windows in the town were broken, and it had been found scarcely possible to breathe in the streets. All this time we continued tacking about before the town; which we continued to do throughout the whole of the following night, and the 24th, when we took on board several oxen, and stores of other provisions, such as unripe oranges, bad peaches, and tasteless pears; the figs and grapes were however excellent. In the evening we made way with great rapidity; the wind still blowing hard. On the 25th and 26th we lay-to during a portion of each day, to distribute provisions among the vessels composing the squadron; during the rest of the time, we sailed on smoothly and rapidly.

Meanwhile nothing occurred to interrupt the uniformity of the scene. Each day crept slowly on, and added to the past interval, which, as a whole, seemed brief because it was void of interest, and not characterized by any remarkable incident.

The Emperor had added to the number of his amusements by a game at piquet, which he regularly played about three o’ clock. This was succeeded by a few games at chess with the Grand Marshal, M. de Montholon, or some other individual, until dinner-time. There was no very good chess-player on board the vessel. The Emperor was but an indifferent player; he gained with some and lost with others, a circumstance which one evening led him to say, “How happens it that I frequently lose with those who are never able to beat him whom I almost always beat? Does not this seem contradictory? How is this problem to be solved?” said he, winking his eye, to shew that he was not the dupe of the constant politeness of him who was really the best player.

We no longer played at vingt-et-un in the evening: we gave up this game on account of our having played too high, at which the Emperor appeared displeased, for he was a great enemy to gaming. On returning from his afternoon walk on the deck. Napoleon played two or three games at chess, and retired to rest early.

THE CANARIES.—PASSING THE TROPIC.—DETAILS OF THE EMPEROR’S CHILDHOOD.—NAPOLEON AT BRIENNE.—PICHEGRU.—NAPOLEON AT THE MILITARY SCHOOL IN PARIS.—IN THE ARTILLERY.—HIS COMPANIONS.—NAPOLEON AT THE COMMENCEMENT OF THE REVOLUTION.

27th—31st. At daybreak on Sunday, 27th, we found ourselves among the Canaries, which we passed in the course of the day, sailing at the rate of ten or twelve knots an hour, without having perceived the famous Peak of Teneriffe—a circumstance the more extraordinary, since in clear weather it is visible at the distance of sixty leagues.

On the 29th we crossed the tropic, and observed many flying fish round the ship. On the 31st, at eleven at night, one of the sailors threw himself overboard; he was a negro who had got drunk, and was fearful of the flogging that awaited him. He had several times, in the course of the evening, attempted to jump overboard, and at last succeeded. He however soon repented, and uttered loud cries. He swam very well; but though a boat was immediately sent off, and every endeavour used to rescue him, he was lost. The cries of this man in the sea excited a powerful sensation on board the vessel. In a moment the crew were hurrying about in every direction: the noise was very great, and the agitation universal.

As I was descending from deck to the cabin, a midshipman, a youth between ten and twelve years of age, of an interesting countenance, thinking I was going to inform the Emperor of what had occurred, laid hold of my coat, and in a tone expressive of the tenderest interest exclaimed, “Ah, Sir, do not alarm him! Tell him the noise is nothing at all; that it is only a man fallen overboard.” Amiable and innocent youth! he expressed his sentiments rather than his thoughts!

In general the midshipmen, of whom there were several on board the ship, behaved with marked respect and attention to the Emperor. They every evening repeated a scene that made a deep impression on our feelings. Early in the morning the sailors carried up their hammocks, and put them in the large nettings at the sides of the ship; and about six in the evening they carried them away at the signal of a whistle. Those who were tardy in the performance of this duty received a certain punishment. On the signal being given, a great bustle ensued; and it was gratifying to see the midshipmen at this moment form a circle round the Emperor, whether he might be standing in the middle of the deck, or resting on his favourite gun. They watched his motions with an anxious eye, and either by signs or words directed the sailors to avoid incommoding him. The Emperor frequently observed this conduct, and remarked that youthful hearts were always inclined to enthusiasm.

I will now proceed with the details, which I collected at various times, respecting the early years of the Emperor’s life.

Napoleon was born about noon on the 15th of August (Assumption-day) in the year 1769. His mother, who was possessed[possessed] of great bodily as well as mental vigour, and who had braved the dangers of war during her pregnancy, wished to attend mass on account of the solemnity of the day: she was, however, taken ill at church, and on her return home was delivered before she could be conveyed to her chamber. The child, as soon as it was born, was laid on the carpet, which was an old-fashioned one, representing at full length the heroes of fable, or, perhaps, of the Iliad. This child was Napoleon.

In his boyhood Napoleon was turbulent, adroit, lively and agile in the extreme. He had gained, he used to say, the most complete ascendancy over his elder brother Joseph. The latter was beaten and ill-treated; complaints were carried to the mother, and she would begin to scold before poor Joseph had even time to open his mouth.

At the age of ten, Napoleon was sent to the military school at Brienne. His name, which in his Corsican accent he pronounced as if written Napoilloné, from the similarity of the sound, procured for him, among his youthful companions, the nick-name of la paille au nez (straw in his nose). At this period a great change took place in Napoleon’s character. In contradiction to all the apocryphal histories, which contain anecdotes of his life, he was when at Brienne mild, quiet, and susceptible. One day the quarter master, who was a man of harsh disposition, and who never took the trouble of considering the physical and moral shades of character in each individual scholar, condemned Napoleon, by way of punishment, to wear the serge coat, and to take his dinner on his knees at the door of the refectory. Napoleon, who had a vast share of pride and self-conceit, was so mortified by this disgrace, that he was seized with a violent retching, and suffered a severe nervous attack. The head master of the school happening accidentally to pass by, relieved him from the punishment, reproving the quarter-master for his want of discernment; and Father Patrault, the professor of mathematics, was very indignant on finding that his first mathematician had been treated with so little respect.