It will scarcely be credited that Sir Hudson Lowe sent back this

letter. He had drawn a pencil mark across every passage to which he

objected, and had reduced the whole to a few lines, thus assuming the

privilege of dictating to me what I was to write to Count Bertrand.

The returned letter was accompanied by a communication, which the

Governor observed would serve as an answer to all my preceding

correspondence.

CORRESPONDENCE CONTINUED.—THE GOVERNOR DISCONCERTED

BY MY FINAL DETERMINATION.

22nd, 23rd.—The Governor came to ascertain the effect of his

declaration and his two letters. He doubted not that they had produced

a great impression, and he calculated on finding my letter to the

Grand Marshal ready written, with the corrections he had suggested;

which communication, he expected would bring about my return to

Longwood. But I coolly informed him that, since he had taken upon

himself to dictate to me, I would not write at all. At this, he

appeared surprised and disconcerted, and, after some reflection, he

went so far as to inquire whether the corrections which he had made

were the only obstacles that deterred me. This unusual condescension

on his part was a sufficient guide for me. I therefore continued firm;

and cut the matter short by observing that, in the evening, he should

receive from me my irrevocable determination and the reasons on which

it was grounded, together with my remarks on the different letters

which he had addressed to me.

My letter was as follows:—

“SIR,—You have sent back to me, with your corrections, the letter

which I wrote to Count Bertrand, respecting your verbal offer of

granting me permission to return to Longwood. But as it almost always

happens here, this offer was sincere only in appearance, and it was

doomed to expire in the details of its execution. I was not much

surprised at this. After your departure, the other day, when I came to

reflect on the offer you had made, I foresaw that the matter would

terminate as it really has done. You had the candour to tell me that

you could not permit me and the individuals at Longwood to combine our

ideas; or, in other words, to ascertain our _real wishes_. You have,

doubtless, very good reasons for this. I say nothing against it; only

I cannot suffer myself to be duped, or to be the means of leading into

error those who take an interest in my fate.

“You are too advantageously situated, Sir, between Longwood and me;

and if I must write to Count Bertrand, not my own sentiments, but what

you may think proper to dictate, I decline holding any communication

with him. I shall regard your offer as never having been made, because

it cannot possibly be accepted; and I must refer irrevocably for my

thoughts, sentiments, and decisions on this subject, to my letter of

the 30th of November.

“You mistake, Sir, if you suppose that I wished for answers to all the

arguments and articles contained in my letters. I am aware of the

importance of your occupations, and the value of your time, and

therefore I merely requested an acknowledgment of the receipt of my

letters for the sake of regularity. I presumed you could have no

reason to refuse this.

“You seem surprised, Sir, at the deplorable state of my own and my

son’s health; and you twice express astonishment that I should not

have complained to you on the subject, when I was at Longwood. I

thought but little about my health, Sir, when I was at Longwood; and

besides, when I felt indisposed, I considered it more advisable to

complain to the Doctor than to the Governor. With regard to my son, I

am surprised you should have heard nothing of his situation,

considering the consultations that have been held on his case, the

fits he has had, and the many times he has been bled. Is it to be

wondered at if our present circumstances increase our infirmities?

“I now come to your order for my removal to the Cape. I find that all

the papers which have any reference to the august individual to whom I

have devoted my existence are to be detained. What other papers, Sir,

can I be possessed of? What is meant by saying that I am free to carry

away all the rest? Is not this making an offer, and yet granting

nothing?

“You detain my Journal, the sole and real object of all this

misunderstanding; the depository, yet incomplete and incorrect, in

which I daily registered all that I thought, saw, or heard. Can any of

my papers be more valuable to me than this? You cannot pretend to have

been ignorant of its contents, since I suffered you to peruse it for

two hours at your own discretion. Will you not be responsible for

having abused this privilege? Will you not, perhaps, one day, have to

justify yourself for the false notions which you have doubtless

transmitted to the English Ministers respecting this manuscript? You

have called it a _Political Journal_. I had no right, you have

observed, in the situation in which I was placed, to keep any account

of what was said by the Emperor Napoleon, and you particularly object

to my having introduced official documents into my Journal. As if all

that I saw, read, and heard, did not by right, and without

impropriety, belong to my own thoughts, and form a part of my own

property, so long as the record was kept private and secret! Who would

suppose that such principles could have been imbibed amidst the

liberal ideas of England? Do they not rather partake of the odious

police maxims of the continent? And, after all, what are the contents

of this Journal? It describes the sublime language and conduct of the

august individual who is the object of it, the incidents of his life,

and also many things which are probably not very agreeable to you! But

who will have given publicity to these facts? The whole was to have

been re-touched, altered, and corrected. Who has prevented this?

However, Sir, you may rest assured, that the circumstances which have

just taken place shall never induce me to say any thing concerning you

which I do not firmly believe to be true.

“In your decision of the 20th of October, you declare that I shall be

removed from Longwood, and sent to the Cape of Good Hope. From the

form and language of this decision, it might naturally be supposed

that it was hostile to my wishes; while, in reality, you thereby

pronounce a sentence which is now, and has been for many days past,

foreign to the new question that has risen up between us. You remove

from Longwood one who, twenty days ago, withdrew from the subjection

to your authority in which he had voluntarily placed himself; and who,

for the last eighteen days, has been formally demanding his removal

from the island. Who would ever guess these facts from a perusal of

your document? You enclose your decision in a letter, in which you

leave me the choice of submitting to your sentence or returning to

Longwood. But by embracing the happiness which you thus hold out to

me, I should secure to you the triumph and satisfaction of being

master of my most private papers; I should again become your captive,

and should be liable to the same searches and seizures, whenever you

might be pleased to make them.... No, Sir! I can make no choice. I can

only repeat what I have already said before. I resign myself to the

laws. If I am guilty, let me be tried; if I am not guilty, restore me

to liberty. If my papers are unconnected with this affair, return them

to me. If you think it proper to submit them to serious examination,

transmit them to the English Ministers, and let me be sent with them.

Besides, as my own and my son’s health imperatively require every kind

of medical assistance, I earnestly implore you to send us to England.

“Nothing was more simple than this affair, and yet it has been

involved in difficulty. In vain you refer to your instructions; they

never can be made to apply to cases so peculiar as this. Your own

wavering determination proves to me that your instructions are neither

clear nor precise. You wished at first to keep me on the island in

solitary confinement and separated from Longwood; you did not think it

right to send me to the Cape. You now torture the literal meaning of

your instructions, in order to give them a forced interpretation. But

recollect that you will be held responsible to your Government for

having misconstrued them, and to me for having violated the law in my

person. Recollect that most of your measures will ultimately appear to

have been vexatious and arbitrary acts. I know not what rights, what

resources, your laws will afford me; but I slumber in this ignorance;

for I trust they will protect me in some way or other. You expect to

be rid of me when I shall be removed to the Cape, separated from my

papers, which you intend to detain in your possession. But even should

I be kept a prisoner there, the winds shall waft my complaints

hitherward. I will make known the mental wounds and bodily sufferings

which you will thus have been the means of aggravating; for, if I

should be detained at the Cape, it must be through you, either by your

direct orders or secret instructions. Sealed papers cannot be opened

except in the presence of the party interested. Will you have me

brought back from the Cape, for the purpose of breaking the seals that

are affixed to mine? Or will you detain me at the Cape until you

receive orders to send my papers to England? What object is to be

gained by all this? There was, and still is, a simple mode of

arranging every thing! My natural disposition to accommodate made me,

as it were, anticipate every difficulty. I was ready to obviate all. I

would willingly have subjected myself in England to any preliminary

measures, however arbitrary, that might have been equivalent to the

quarantine of the Cape. The state of my own and my son’s health was a

valid reason for so doing.

“The fear of departing from the literal meaning of any particular

point in your instructions has, with you, been more powerful than the

necessity and the right of yielding to their spirit, to the force of

circumstances, and the feelings of humanity. It is not yet too late to

grant what I solicit. I am willing to believe that humanity will

determine you; and if so I shall remain your debtor. The circumstance

of the papers being claimed at Longwood and by me cannot be regarded

as a reasonable obstacle. Besides, it may be asked what you have done

to remove it? Do you wish that I should myself write on the subject?

Three words would suffice to bring us to an understanding.

“At all events, Sir, whatever determination you may come to, whatever

vexation you may reserve for me, nothing can be comparable to what I

suffer in being detained on this horrible island, separated from the

august individual whom I followed hither. The hours and minutes that I

pass in this situation are like years in my unfortunate life, and

dangerously aggravate my son’s precarious state of health. I therefore

again demand, and shall incessantly demand, that you will remove me

from this hated place. I am,” &c.

The Governor was very much vexed by my determination of not returning

to Longwood, though I could not exactly guess the reason why. However,

my resolution was fully confirmed on the following day, when he came

to me, and, after a long and very obscure preamble, respecting his

sincerity and good intentions, he told me that, to facilitate my

communication with Longwood, he would consent to forward my first

letter to Count Bertrand, in the form in which I had myself written

it; and moreover to send along with it a copy of all my

correspondence; a thing which he had hitherto constantly refused to

do. But the more he made concessions, the more firmly I rejected

them:—“’Tis too late,” said I, “the die is cast. I have pronounced

sentence upon myself. I will not write to Longwood, and I demand, for

the hundredth time, that you will remove me hence without further

delay.”—“At least, then,” said the Governor, “will you communicate to

Longwood my offers and your refusal?”—“I have no objection to do

that,” I replied. Sir Hudson Lowe then departed, very much

disconcerted, mentioning, as a last inducement, that he could only

send us away on board a transport, that he did not know when the

vessel might sail, and that there was no medical man on board, which

would be a serious inconvenience, considering the state of my son’s

health.

OUR REMOVAL FROM BALCOMBE’S COTTAGE TO

THE TOWN.

24th.—My son was exceedingly ill during the night, and I was myself

very much indisposed. At daybreak I sent to request the immediate

attendance of Doctors Baxter and O’Meara; and, in the extremity of my

despair, I also wrote to Sir Hudson Lowe, assuring him that it was

impossible we could longer endure the treatment we were now suffering.

I reminded him that, in spite of my son’s dangerous condition, it was

now more than seven days since we had seen a medical attendant; and

that, owing to our inconvenient situation, the Doctors, in spite of

their good intentions, found it impossible to visit us. I therefore

urged the necessity of our quitting the cottage without delay: and I

begged that we might be conveyed to the town, even to the common jail,

if he found it necessary. This letter produced an immediate effect. I

received, on the return of the orderly, a note from the Governor,

stating that I should that day be conveyed to his own residence in the

town. In the evening, an officer came to conduct us thither. How

anxiously did we turn our eyes towards Longwood at the moment of

departure! What were our thoughts and sensations as we proceeded along

the road! What a wound was inflicted on my heart when, for the last

time, I turned to look on Longwood, and saw it gradually disappear

from my sight!

OUR RESIDENCE AT THE GOVERNOR’S CASTLE.—BETTER

TREATMENT, &C.

25th to 28th.—We now found ourselves removed to the Governor’s

residence, which is called the Castle. It is a spacious building and

agreeably situated. Our condition was now changed very much for the

better. We were still guarded by sentinels, it is true; but every

thing was under my orders, and there seemed to be an endeavour to

furnish us profusely with every thing. “Do not spare,” the major-domo

often repeated, “the Honourable East India Company pays for all.” But

these tardy attentions produced little effect upon me. I had but one

object in view, namely, a prompt decision, and that I could not

obtain. The Governor came to me every day, but it was merely to utter

a few complimentary phrases, and not a word of my affairs. However, it

was now indispensable to come to the point. The endless difficulties

that had arisen, and my endeavours to avert them, had kept me in a

continual state of agitation; and vexation of mind was combined with

grief of heart.

I was absolutely in a critical state when I arrived in the town. The

Governor was struck with my extreme debility and the change that had

taken place in my appearance. Apparently with the intention of rousing

me, Sir Hudson Lowe mentioned that the Emperor had expressed a very

great wish to see me before my departure. On hearing this, I was

deeply moved. My son afterwards informed me that the Governor appeared

very much embarrassed by the condition to which he saw me reduced.

However, making an effort to collect my strength, I once more begged

that Sir Hudson Lowe would give orders for my removal as speedily as

possible. He at length determined that my departure should take place

two days afterwards. He informed me that he had procured a ship of

war, which would be more suitable for my conveyance, while at the same

time I should enjoy the advantage of having a medical attendant on

board.

THE EMPEROR’S MESSAGE TO ME.—THE GRAND

MARSHAL’S FAREWELL.

29th.—Early this morning, an officer came to request that we would

pack up our things to be conveyed on board the ship, as it was

determined that we should depart very shortly. This we looked upon as

the hour of our deliverance. In a few minutes, all that we possessed

was packed up, and we were in perfect readiness. At length the

wished-for moment of departure was at hand. How our feelings vary

according to the circumstances in which we happen to be placed. But a

short time ago I should have considered it the greatest misfortune

that could befal me to be separated from the Emperor, and removed from

St. Helena. But my late resolutions, the manifest wish of Sir Hudson

Lowe, the positive words of the Emperor: “_I request you, and in case

of need, I command you, to quit this island_;” together with other

important observations which fell from him in the course of previous

conversation, and which I cannot hint at here, though they are

entirely foreign to politics; and finally, the chimeras which my own

imagination had conjured up; all now caused me to dread the thought of

being longer detained. The hour of departure had already been

specified; I nevertheless experienced the most cruel suspense, which

the Governor seemed to justify by keeping away nearly the whole of the

day. Impatience and anxiety had thrown me into a fever; when, about

six o’clock in the evening, the Governor, whom I now despaired of

seeing, made his appearance. After a little preamble, in his usual

way, he informed me that he had brought the Grand Marshal to take

leave of me, and he conducted me into the adjoining apartment, where I

had the happiness of embracing that esteemed companion of my exile.

The Emperor had instructed the Grand Marshal to tell me that “he

should see me desert with pleasure, and see me remain with pleasure.”

These were his words. He added, that he knew my heart and my

sentiments; and that he reposed full and entire confidence in me. As

to the chapters of the Campaign of Italy, which I had requested

permission to keep as a dear and precious memento, he granted them

without hesitation, as well as any thing else that might happen to be

in my possession; for he was pleased to say that, while they were in

my hands he should consider them as being still in his own. Sir Hudson

Lowe was with us during this interview, at which his presence was

indispensable. The Grand Marshal commissioned me to make some

purchases of books, and other things, necessary or useful to the

Emperor, and he particularly requested me to send the Moniteur.

Finally, he took leave of me, telling me significantly to act in all

things as I should judge best.

As I expected, the friendship of the Grand Marshal served only to

increase my distress. He expressed his regret for my departure, and

tried to suggest reasons for inducing me to remain. “His absence,”

said he, in a very graceful manner, addressing himself to the

Governor, “will be regretted by us all. It will be a loss to the

Emperor, and it will even be a loss to you, Sir Hudson Lowe. You will

soon be convinced of this.” The Governor replied by an approving bow;

and both endeavoured to prevail on me to change my resolution. I could

easily guess the Governor’s reasons for this; but I could not so well

divine the cause of the Grand Marshal’s entreaties, particularly after

the message which he had just delivered to me from the Emperor.

Besides, he was aware that, in addition to the numerous powerful

motives which urged me to depart, Sir Hudson Lowe, as I believe I have

already mentioned, offered not the least concession on his part. He

insisted on retaining my papers, and required my implicit submission.

By this means, I should, as it were, have legalized all his measures.

By the precedent thus granted I should have authorized him to seize

and imprison any one of us, whenever he might take a fancy to do so. I

could not, without the Emperor’s express command, submit to such

outrages; and, therefore, I firmly resisted them.

LAST FAREWELL.—SEALING OF MY PAPERS.—DEPARTURE.

30th.—I received an early visit from Admiral Malcolm. He came to

introduce me to Capt. Wright, who was to convey me to the Cape, on

board the Griffin brig. The Admiral recommended me to Capt. Wright as

his friend, and, in a very pleasing manner, assured me that I should

have every reason to be satisfied with the endeavours that would be

made to render things agreeable to me.

I looked forward to the decisive moment with my usual anxiety; for the

Governor betrayed so much eagerness to induce me to remain, that I was

fearful he would finally start some unforeseen obstacle to my

departure.

About eleven o’clock, the Grand Marshal arrived, accompanied by the

Governor and some officers. He renewed his endeavours to prevail on me

to return to Longwood; but without ever expressing the positive desire

of the Emperor. Knowing my sentiments so well as he did, he must have

been aware that a word would have decided me. But this word he did not

pronounce, and he even avoided doing so when I pressed him to it,

always referring to the Emperor’s message, which he had delivered to

me on the preceding day. Thus I had to defend myself against him, from

whom I should have wished to receive support. His expressions of

regard increased my distress, and I was perplexed between the wish of

remaining and the determination of departing. If my heart dictated the

one course, courage demanded the other; and I continued inflexible.

I must not forget to mention that the Grand Marshal, in the course of

conversation, informed me that the Emperor had wished to see me before

my departure. The Governor, however, required that an English officer

should be present during our interview; and the Emperor renounced his

intention, observing that I well knew he would deny himself the

happiness of seeing his own wife and son on such conditions. How was I

gratified by these words!...

I delivered to the Grand Marshal thirteen bills of exchange, on my

banker in London, for the 4000 louis, which I had so frequently

offered to the Emperor, and which the Grand Marshal now informed me he

had consented to accept. This was a real consolation to me.

This business being settled, General Gourgaud, who had accompanied the

Grand Marshal, was also permitted to enter and take leave of me. This

new mark of interest, joined to many others which the General had

shewn me during my imprisonment, failed not to produce an impression

on my heart.

The Grand Marshal and the General remained with me for a considerable

time, and Sir Hudson Lowe had the politeness to say that they might,

if they pleased, stay and breakfast with me. He retired, taking with

him all his people, with the exception of the officer on duty at

Longwood, who had escorted the gentlemen to the castle. This officer

was Captain Poppleton, with whose conduct we had always found reason

to be perfectly satisfied. During our breakfast, over which we sat for

a very long time, we certainly might, in spite of the presence of

Captain Poppleton, have found means to make secret communications with

each other; but we had none to make, and not a syllable of a private

nature passed between us. Had I foreseen this unexpected circumstance,

I might have put into my son’s hands the whole of my correspondence

with Sir Hudson Lowe, and it might, by this means, have been easily

transmitted to Longwood. However, on reflection, I congratulated

myself on not having made any such attempt. I still distrusted Sir

Hudson Lowe, and, from the endeavours he made to prevail on me to

remain, he would certainly have availed himself of such a discovery as

an excuse for changing all the arrangements that had been made, and

issuing fresh orders.

Breakfast being ended, I was the first who had courage to rise and

take farewell. I sent to request that the Governor would come and

execute the final measures. I embraced my friends, and they left me.

General Gourgaud, at parting, several times feelingly alluded to the

little vexations which had occasionally arisen between us. I felt

happy in expressing my conviction that they had been wholly occasioned

by the painful circumstances in which we were placed, and that our

hearts had no share in them. I cherish, with sincere gratitude, the

remembrance of the kind attentions which I received from General

Gourgaud, during the latter period of my residence at St. Helena.[28]

Footnote 28:

I must here introduce a correction respecting General Gourgaud. It

was, by mistake, mentioned in the early part of this work that

General Gourgaud negotiated for permission to proceed to St. Helena.

He was one of the individuals selected by the Emperor.

Memoirs of the life, exile, and conversations of the Emperor Napoleon. (Vol. IV) · 第 20 / 40 段