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.