15th.—At day light I had a tolerably near view of the island. At first I
thought it rather extensive; but it seemed to diminish considerably as
we approached. At length, about seventy days after our departure from
England, and a hundred and ten after our departure from Paris, we cast
anchor about noon. This was the first link of the chain that was to bind
the modern Prometheus to his rock.
We found at anchor several of the vessels of our squadron, which had
separated from us, or which we had left behind. They had, however,
arrived several days before us: another proof of the extreme uncertainty
attending nautical calculations.
The Emperor, contrary to custom, dressed early and went upon deck; he
went forward on the gangway to view the island. We beheld a kind of
village surrounded by numerous barren and naked hills towering to the
clouds. Every platform, every aperture, the brow of every hill, was
planted with cannon. The Emperor viewed the prospect through his glass.
I stood behind him. My eyes were constantly fixed on his countenance, in
which I could perceive no change; and yet he saw before him, perhaps his
perpetual prison!—perhaps his grave!... What, then, remained for me to
feel or to express!
The Emperor soon left the deck. He desired me to come to him, and we
proceeded with our usual occupation.
The admiral, who had gone ashore very early, returned about six o’clock,
much fatigued. He had been walking about various parts of the island,
and at length thought he had found a habitation that would suit us. The
place, however, stood in need of repairs which might occupy two months.
We had now been confined to our wooden dungeon for nearly three months;
and the precise instructions of the Ministers were that we should be
detained there until our prison on shore was ready for our reception.
The Admiral, to do him justice, was incapable of such barbarity; he
informed us, at the same time betraying a sort of inward satisfaction,
that he would take upon himself the responsibility of putting us ashore
next day.