fell in with the trade-winds. On the Sunday following, the 7th of
September, we passed in sight of St. Helena, but at a distance of
upwards of fifteen leagues; it was hardly possible to perceive it. It
would be necessary to have been on that Island, situated as I had
been, led thither by similar motives, and to have felt the same
affections, and all the other sentiments which my residence there had
inspired me with, in order to conceive all the sensations which I
experienced on finding myself near that spot,—all the thoughts which
occurred to my mind,—the feelings of regret which assailed me. I had
had it in my power to remain there; and I had wilfully chosen to
banish myself from it!... Indeed, the experience I had had of the Cape
began to make me fear that I had founded my determination on chimeras.
We were now sailing smoothly towards the equator, on this tropical
sea, on which we had to go upwards of three thousand leagues. Our
little vessel composed our universe. What a vast field of meditation!
to find one’s self alone, for about a hundred days, on the vast ocean
without any other shelter than the immense expanse of the heavens, on
a floating atom, and separated only by a frail plank from the voracity
of sea monsters, and an unfathomable abyss!
At the expiration of a month, 20th September, we at last got into our
northern hemisphere again, by crossing the Line almost at the same
time as the sun, which was going down towards the south, on our
larboard tack. We were very fortunate in our navigation in the
immediate vicinity north of the equator, where calms or storms are
invariably met with. In those regions, the excessive heat of the
equator, and that produced by the sands of Africa, combine to torment
and harass nature, who expresses her lassitude by continued calms, or
is roused by torrents of rain and terrible thunder-storms.
Twenty-five days afterwards, we passed the second tropic, and reached
the boundaries of the variable winds of our regions.
We had left the Cape in winter, and after having crossed the torrid
zone, we again found winter at the gates of Europe: thus tempests were
stationed at the two extremities of our navigation. We had fortunately
escaped the tempests of departure; but we had still to expect those of
arrival: these we found at their post, and furious they turned out to
be.
At the end of about twenty days of light and variable winds, we
arrived off the Azores. Our voyage had been already extremely long.
There have been instances of the passage from the Cape to England
having been performed in thirty days;—the average perhaps is fifty
days. We had now been eighty days at sea, and our troubles were only
about to begin. When in sight of the Azores, our tribulation, and what
we called our _Passion week_, commenced.
On the 1st of November we experienced our first gale; a moderate one,
it is true, to begin with, as it were, and set us agoing.
On the 2nd November, we had a calm to give us breath. On the 3rd, came
a second gale, still tolerable; but, during the night, which was one
of the darkest imaginable, a third gale sprang up, and this time, it
amounted to an absolute hurricane. The wind suddenly chopped round,
from aft to fore, with a dreadful noise; and blowing furiously, it
took, sideways, the few sails we had set, and in one instant, with the
rapidity of thought, one side of the ship was in the water, and the
sea reached nearly to the foot of the masts. A great number of the
casks belonging to the cargo were upset, and by their weight increased
the heeling of the ship, already so dangerous. Fortunately, the wind
carried away the sails, which were abandoned to it, or we should have
capsized. We all thought ourselves lost, and we must have been
drowned, had not fate ordered it otherwise.
Such a state of things lasted the whole of Friday, the 7th. Suffering
from sea sickness, I had not stirred from my hammock for a long while;
but at about four o’clock, I took advantage of a more calm moment, to
crawl to the outlet of our wretched cabin, to examine the state of our
situation. The spectacle was truly grand, sublime, awful, terrible.
The vast ocean, surmounted by a sky red with fury, covered with
innumerable roaring mountains, and furrowed with deep valleys and
fathomless abysses, formed a sight which filled me with an awful
feeling of terror. Our little boat glided with admirable rapidity
between two moving mountains, the extremities of which often met on
our deck, threatening every moment to unite there together for our
final destruction, whilst behind us huge rolling billows, similar to
the fantastic monsters of fabulous history, pursued us with
unrelenting ardour, raising their hideous heads above our stern, as if
to contemplate and rush upon their prey, which continually escaped
from them, not, however, without their carrying away, here and there,
some pieces of timber from our upper works. This situation was one of
imminent danger: few words were exchanged between us; we looked at
each other in silence; and suffered things to take their course. It is
certain that a false movement at the helm, or the slightest act of
inattention or neglect, would have been sufficient to cause us to be
instantly swallowed up. Had we been caught by one of these terrible
waves astern of us, its weight would have borne down every thing
before it, and that indeed was our greatest peril. We were more than
once threatened with seeing our cabin stove in; the waves dashed over
our heads, with a noise like the report of a cannon. We observed them,
with terror, gaining ground upon us; and we spent a great part of the
dreadful night that followed in securing and fortifying ourselves
against them.
My son, who could neither go to bed nor sleep, frequently went upon
deck to see how things were going on, and then came back to me, as I
lay in my hammock. Not knowing what to do during that long and cruel
night, to divert our minds from the contemplation of our situation,
and beguile time, if possible, I endeavoured for a moment to dictate
something to my son; it was a passage of ancient history. But,
presently, a wave, having stove in some part of the works above, came
and inundated my hammock, and the paper on which my son was writing.
We thought ourselves at our last moment.
However, all that has been read was not destined to form the
complement of our danger, or the extent of our fears. The tempest
still lasted, and seemed even to increase; at last, on Saturday the
8th, towards morning, the man who was at the helm, as being the most
dexterous and the most intrepid of the crew, declared that he would no
longer take charge of it; he began to feel giddy, he said, and he
feared lest some error on his part should prove fatal to all. We were
then obliged to have recourse to our last resource, _mettre à la
cape_, that of letting the ship drive before the wind; a most ticklish
manœuvre in the desperate situation in which we were placed,
because we ran the risk of going down in the attempt to execute it.
But Providence still favoured us; by the greatest good fortune
possible, we succeeded, and a shout of joy and gratitude from the
whole of the crew above, imparted to us below the welcome news. We
considered ourselves most fortunate, although the difference between
the two situations was chiefly this, that whereas before we ran the
risk of foundering, by being taken by the sea aft, we now had the
chance of foundering, by the sea taking us on the beam.
This violent gale had now lasted three days, and our week was going on
towards its completion. I placed great reliance upon the Sunday, which
was about to begin, not only on account of the moon, but also because
Sunday had happened to be peculiarly marked by something favourable to
us ever since our departure. Nor were our hopes disappointed, for, in
the course of the night between Saturday to Sunday, the weather became
tolerably moderate, and, when daylight appeared, we were enabled once
more to pursue our course. It is certain that, from a strange
combination of circumstances, the Sundays had always been marked by
some fortunate events, since our departure from the Cape. It was on a
Sunday that we had passed the southern tropic, and fallen in with the
trade-winds; on a Sunday we had seen St. Helena; on a Sunday we had
passed the Island of Ascension; on a Sunday we had crossed the Line;
on a Sunday we had passed the second tropic; on a Sunday we had
arrived in the latitude off Gibraltar, the first point of Europe;
lastly, it was on a Sunday that we had arrived in the latitude of
Bayonne and Bordeaux, the beginning of our dear France; and it was on
a Sunday again that we were at this moment ending that terrible week
off Brest. We might fairly reckon henceforward, we said, upon some
fine weather; we thought that we had sufficiently paid our tribute; we
hoped that we had exhausted the fury of the wind: the lead brought up
European clay; and we only thought of an agreeable termination to our
voyage. But, vain calculation! our lucky Sunday being over, we had to
encounter a fifth gale.
We were now beginning to enter the Channel without, however, having
yet seen land, by which means our true position was unknown to us.
Prudence required us to stand out to sea, but fortunately it was not
for a long time; and, having resumed our course, we at last came
within sight of the Lizard Point; but we seemed doomed not to have
twenty-four hours of comfort. A thick fog almost immediately came on,
and a sixth gale sprung up under the most inauspicious appearances. It
blew from the south, and therefore threatened to drive us ashore; we
were now in the Channel and without shelter: on one side we had the
Lizard, and on the other the Scilly isles, which are extremely
dangerous; there was a very heavy sea: we did not know precisely where
we were; night was coming on, and a night of fourteen hours! How many
causes of uneasiness! What a state of perplexity both for the mind and
for a calculation of the chances! We were all completely downcast and
disheartened; when a shower of rain, accompanied by thunder, although
it was then in the middle of November and the weather very cold, broke
the spell. The wind suddenly veered to the proper quarter, and this
time it put an end to all our difficulties by bringing us into the
Downs, where we anchored. Happy, and ten times happy, to have escaped
dangers so formidable and so numerous!
-------------------------
VOYAGE FROM THE THAMES TO
FRANKFORT.
----------
An Interval of Twenty Days.
----------
_From November 16 to December 11._
I AM NOT ALLOWED TO REMAIN IN ENGLAND.—REMOVAL TO OSTEND.—PERSECUTIONS
IN BELGIUM, PRUSSIA, &C.—AGREEABLE COMPENSATIONS.—ARRIVAL AT
FRANKFORT.
On the preceding evening we had anchored in the Downs, merely for that
night; the next morning, at day-break, we set sail for the Thames,
London being our place of destination. It now appeared as if no
occurrence could henceforth keep me from that city, and I was already
calculating the hour of arrival. All my hopes might at last be
realized; my confidence was returning; but how greatly was I mistaken!
Arrived at Gravesend, where a vessel is stationed for the special
purpose of superintendence over foreigners, I no sooner gave my name
than an agent of government informed me that I could not proceed any
further, and that I must follow him immediately, with my luggage, on
board of the _Alien Ship_. In vain I remonstrated, and represented to
him that, with my passport, I was in strict conformity with the
regulations: that very document it was which condemned me. I have been
since informed that this measure had been ordered against me in every
port of England, long before my arrival.
I was no sooner on board the Alien Ship, than seals were placed upon
my papers, and I was apprized that I must wait for final orders from
Government. I had written to Lord Bathurst the very instant of our
anchoring in the Downs; I now wrote to him again. I was ignorant of
his intentions towards me; but it seemed to me impossible that he
should not eagerly summon me before him; and, above all things, it
could not enter into my mind that he would neglect to avail himself of
so favourable an opportunity for hearing a counter-statement of all
that had taken place at St. Helena. It will be seen, however, that I
was mistaken in my suppositions.
With the exception of being kept in confinement, every mark of
attention was shewn to me on board the Alien Ship. The Captain, who
had had very little to do since the peace, and who never made his
appearance but in the day time, gave me his own bed to sleep in.
Harassed by these fresh vexations, suffering from my habitual
complaints, and wearied of my new prison, I had gone to bed at an
early hour, when I was awaked on a sudden, in the silence of night, by
a shrill voice. “Count, Count,” cried some one who was seeking for me
in every corner, and who in his hurry had not even waited to procure a
light, “_It is the Prince Regent’s pleasure_ that you instantly quit
Great Britain.” In the confusion of my broken sleep I chanced to
reply, “Assuredly this is a very sorry and silly pleasure for his
Royal Highness; but you, Sir, who are you?” He then told me that he
was a government messenger. I requested that he would wait until I
should be ready, and I tried in vain to complete my night’s rest. At
daybreak my son and I were desired to step into a boat, landed with
mystery, thrust into a post-chaise, and conducted by the shortest road
to Dover, where my guide informed me that he had orders to see me on
board of the packet for Calais or Ostend, whichever I preferred, as I
was not allowed to fix my choice upon any other port.
It happened, from some cause or other, that we could not sail
immediately from Dover, and I was told that there might be a delay of
two or three days. We were shut up in an inn, where my keeper, under
the specious pretence of consulting my convenience, practised upon me
the meanest of all contrivances. If complaints are made on the
Continent of disgraceful proceedings on the part of police agents, it
must be admitted that the man we had now to deal with might well rival
those of any other country.
Having happened to say that it was a pity my papers had been sealed
up, as otherwise I might have taken advantage of my stay, in order to
write a few letters, he immediately protested against the hardship of
my being deprived of what he called a most innocent and a most natural
satisfaction; and directly went himself to break the seals, and gave
me up all my papers, recommending me to do all in my power to
alleviate the unpleasantness of my present situation, of which he was
the unwilling instrument. Will it be believed that this was nothing
more than a snare laid for me, in order that he might afterwards have
the pleasure of seizing whatever I might have written, under the
delusion of a feeling of confidence which he thus excited! During the
time we were together, this man had been remarkable for his
officiousness towards us, coupled, it is true, with a thousand
impertinent expressions, which sufficiently evinced all his baseness.
He told me, for instance, that he and his colleagues considered it
their duty to know no other law than the _pleasure_ of the Prince: he
spoke of _his master_, Lord Sidmouth, the Secretary for the Home
Department; of _his master_ who had preceded Lord Sidmouth, and so on;
and as I observed, in joke, that I had thought that he belonged to the
Administration, and not to the Minister, he replied, with the utmost
candour, that I was mistaken; that he belonged to the Minister, as it
was the Minister who paid him his salary, and who might take it away
at his pleasure. He added much other nonsense of the same kind, which
savoured more of the negro slave of Jamaica than of a white of Europe,
and of a citizen of Great Britain; this, however, would have been a
matter of perfect indifference to me, had not his base principles been
put in practice upon me, as the sequel will shew.
At the very moment of our departure, and, when I was on the point of
starting, this man, until then so complaisant and so officious, told
me, in rather an insolent manner, that he had a trifling formality to
fulfil towards me; and, seizing upon all my luggage, he searched most
minutely amongst my linen and clothes, took possession of all my
papers, without the least ceremony, and even refused to give me any
kind of inventory of them. I complained aloud; I called for the
protection of the Magistrates; I demanded that my protest, at least,
should be received; I was answered that, in the situation in which I
was placed, and being a foreigner, the benefit of the laws which I
invoked could not be extended to me; and in this manner I was obliged
to quit England, leaving, however, behind me, the following letter for
Lord Sidmouth:—
“MY LORD,—It is with feelings of the deepest regret that I do myself
the honour of addressing your Lordship, aware that your reply, which
might perhaps gratify the object of my wishes, will reach me too late.
“For the last four days I have been in the power of your messenger:
who, upon his arrival, removed the seals which had been put upon my
papers, saying that he again placed them at my disposal. He has since
seen me write, has even encouraged me to do so, and has waited for the
moment of my departure, to take possession, in your name, of every one
of my papers. This is a snare, my Lord, which my heart forbids me to
attribute to a higher quarter than the individual who has practised
it. That messenger understood no language but English; he called
another person to his aid, who pretended to understand a little
French, and who has thought proper to peruse my papers, one after
another, and even to detain them all. There was enough for a whole
week’s reading, and I did not imagine that any private individual
could have such a right over me.
“Every thing has been taken from me, letters, notes, my son’s
exercises, title-deeds, family secrets, official documents from Sir
Hudson Lowe and Lord Charles Somerset, my daily memoranda, even a
letter to the French Minister of Police, and another to my wife, which
I had prepared during my leisure moments here, in order that I might
forward them on my landing at Ostend. They have been taken without
allowing an inventory or register to be made of them. Such, they said,
was your Lordship’s order. In the first burst of indignation, I have
protested against this violence, and demanded that a Magistrate might
receive my complaint. I shall not record here the reply that has been
given to me. Recovered from the first moment of surprise, and dreading
nothing so much as to see my name mentioned in public discussions;
considering also how impossible it was that your Lordship should have
ordered so great a deviation from the rules of every acknowledged
system of jurisprudence, according to which governments are required,
in cases like the present, to take such measures as will enable them
to guard against the possibility of being accused of having withdrawn
or superadded any document; I contented myself with urging and most
earnestly entreating the messenger, who had my fate in his hands, to
allow of my departure being retarded until I had been able to write to
your Lordship, and until he had himself received a confirmation of his
rigorous orders. But this man, who had already caused a delay of three
days upon slight pretexts, proved quite inflexible on the present
important occasion. In vain I represented to him that I had no
objection to shew all my papers to the confidential persons whom your
Lordship might have appointed to see them; that it was even for your
Lordship’s interest that certain formalities should be observed
towards me; that, in the examination of my papers, my presence would
be useful, if not absolutely necessary, in order to explain many
things that could not be understood without me; whereas, he was
sending me to the Continent, and forwarding my papers to London; that
no doubt there was some mistake, which twenty-four hours’ time would
clear up. I was coolly told, in reply, that I need not be uneasy about
returning from the Continent, if that was thought necessary, as your
Lordship would defray all the expense of the voyage. My Lord, in what
hands have you placed me? On another occasion, in which this man could
surely not have consulted your wishes, I found myself compelled to
silence my guard, in consequence of the gross and injurious
expressions which he used concerning the illustrious personage whom I
respect above all others in this world.
“In short, my Lord, since I have reached your shores, I have been
treated as a malefactor; and yet, where is my crime? A difference of
political opinion, perhaps, and a voluntary imprisonment at Longwood!
But is not the latter act one of the most noble and most generous; one
so highly honourable that the man does not exist who, at the bottom of
his heart, would not be proud of having set the example of it? My
Lord, the mildness of disposition and love of justice, which are said
to distinguish your Lordship, cannot, I am confident of it, have
authorized all that has been done to me. Having been allowed to affix
my seal to the papers that have been taken from me, I have hastened to
do so, not as a precaution against your Lordship, but on the contrary,
to remedy, in your behalf, the want of formality of which your agents
may have been guilty.
“I entreat your Lordship to reconsider my case, and not to form an
opinion upon my papers, without having first received from me the
explanations you may require; and which I shall ever be most ready to
afford. I affirm beforehand that, whatever difference of opinion and
feeling may be found in them, there is not one that will not bear the
test of a judicial investigation or of a friendly discussion. They
contain nothing possessing any degree of interest in state matters,
and no political secrets. I never possessed any documents of that
kind, and if I had, opportunities would not have been wanting to have
put them out of the way long before this.
“It would perhaps be the moment to speak also to your Lordship about
the papers which have been taken from me at St. Helena, as well as
respecting many other subjects to which I shall have to refer, either
with your Lordship or Lord Bathurst; but the short space of time that
I am allowed, and the confusion of ideas produced by circumstances so
sudden and unforeseen, oblige me to defer doing so to some future
period.
“I shall anxiously await the answer which your Lordship may be pleased
to give me; but where I know not; most probably at Brussels, if I am
allowed to remain there.
“I have the honour,” &c.
I was put on board a packet, and we sailed for Ostend; and, as I have
now and then taken the liberty to speak of physical sufferings, I
shall be forgiven, if, in order to afford a more correct idea of what
I must have suffered during my long passage, I observe here that,
notwithstanding the hundred days which I had just passed at sea, I
still happened to be sick again on board this packet, although the
weather was not absolutely bad. This was undoubtedly very ridiculous,
but no less true.
The next day I got to Ostend, and landed without any observation
having been made to me by any person. I again thought that this time
my misfortunes were at an end, and that I had recovered my liberty;
but I was again mistaken; persecutions of another kind were, on the
contrary, going to begin: however, I had every reason to be satisfied
with the first moments of my residence.
I had not been long at the inn before an agent of the local
authorities came and told me, without my being able to guess how I had
been already found out, that he had received orders to watch over me,
and that he had immediately come to ask me in what manner I wished him
to fulfil his instructions.