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 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.