showed me the same paper Lord Keith had communicated to me in the
morning. When I had read it, he complained vehemently of his treatment
in being sent to St Helena, saying, "The idea of it is perfect horror
to me. To be placed for life on an island within the Tropics, at an
immense distance from any land, cut off from all communication with
the world, and every thing that I hold dear in it!--c'est pis que la
cage de fer de Tamerlan. (It is worse than Tamerlane's iron cage.) I
would prefer being delivered up to the Bourbons. Among other insults,"
said he,--"but that is a mere bagatelle, a very secondary
consideration,--they style me General! they can have no right to call
me General; they may as well call me Archbishop, for I was head of the
church, as well as the army. If they do not acknowledge me as Emperor,
they ought as First Consul; they have sent Ambassadors to me as such;
and your King, in his letters, styled me brother. Had they confined
me in the Tower of London, or one of the fortresses in England,
(though not what I had hoped from the generosity of the English
people,) I should not have so much cause of complaint; but to banish
me to an island within the Tropics! They might as well have signed my
death-warrant at once, as it is impossible a man of my habit of body
can live long in such a climate."
He then expressed a desire to write another letter to the Prince
Regent; and I carried it the same afternoon to Lord Keith, by whom it
was immediately forwarded to London.
Generals Savary and Lallemand this day made many appeals to me on the
injustice of our Government delivering them up to France; saying they
had not a doubt it was intended, else why except them from
accompanying the Emperor, as they were both married men, and Savary
the father of a large family:--it was not the wish of either to have
gone to St Helena; but their being expressly excepted, and their names
appearing in the list of proscribed, was but too sure a proof of their
intended fate. Savary added, "Were I to be allowed a fair and
impartial trial, I should have nothing to fear, never having accepted
a situation under Louis; but at present, when faction runs so high, I
should inevitably be sacrificed to the fury of party. Lallemand's case
is quite different: he held a command under the King, and, on
Napoleon's return from Elba, joined him with his troops; therefore,
his situation would at any time be a dangerous one:--but I lived in
the country all the time Louis was in France, and did not come forward
until Buonaparte's arrival in Paris, when he directed me to take the
command of the Gendarmerie."
Lallemand said, "My reason for coming on board the Bellerophon with
Las Cases on the morning of the 14th, was to ascertain whether there
would be a risk of any of the Emperor's followers being delivered up
to the French Government, in the event of their accompanying him to
England; when you assured me there could be no danger of it." I
replied, "My answer to you was, that I was of opinion there could be
no risk of the British Government taking such a step; and I see no
reason now to alter that opinion. As I have received you on board the
Bellerophon, I consider you under the protection of the British flag,
and myself, in a great measure, responsible for your personal safety;
and under that impression I will write on the subject to Lord
Melville, as the Minister under whose immediate control I act, that
your minds may be set at rest, though, I repeat, you run no hazard of
being sent to France." The same evening, before I went to bed, I wrote
the letter which follows:--
"H.M.S. Bellerophon,
Plymouth Sound, 31st July, 1815.
"MY LORD,
"I am induced to address your Lordship in consequence of having
observed, in the intimation delivered to Napoleon Buonaparte of the
number of persons allowed to accompany him to the Island of St Helena,
that the names of Savary and Lallemand are expressly excepted, which,
together with their being proscribed in the French newspapers, has
created in them a belief that it is the intention of His Majesty's
Government to deliver them up to the King of France. Far be it from me
to assume such an idea; but I hope your Lordship will make allowance
for the feelings of an officer who has nothing so dear to him as his
honour, and who could not bear that a stain should be affixed to a
name he has ever endeavoured to bear unblemished. These two men,
Savary and Lallemand (what their characters or conduct in their own
country may be I know not), threw themselves under the protection of
the British flag; that protection was granted them with the sanction
of my name. It is true, no conditions were stipulated for; but I acted
in the full confidence that their lives would be held sacred, or they
should never have put foot in the ship I command, without being made
acquainted that it was for the purpose of delivering them over to the
laws of their country.
"I again beg leave to repeat to your Lordship, that I am far from
supposing it to be the intention of His Majesty's Government to
deliver these men over to the laws of their country; but, as they are
strongly impressed with that belief, and I look upon myself as the
cause of their being in their present situation, I most earnestly beg
your Lordship's influence may be exerted that two men may not be
brought to the scaffold who claimed and obtained at my hands the
protection of the British flag.
"I have the honour to be,
&c. &c. &c.
"FRED. L. MAITLAND."
"The Viscount Melville,
&c. &c. &c."
I felt convinced that Buonaparte, after the notification he had
received, would be too much depressed in spirits to make his
appearance on deck this day; and sent a boat to some of my friends,
who were waiting in hopes of seeing him, to say there was no chance of
his coming out, as he was much distressed at the communication which
had been made to him. I was, therefore, a good deal surprised, on
turning round, to find him standing at my elbow; and I can only
account for his showing himself as usual, by supposing either that he
was not in fact so much annoyed as I had believed him to be, or that
he was actuated by a desire of creating a feeling of commiseration
among the English people in his behalf.
At dinner he conversed as usual; and, indeed, it was quite astonishing
with what elasticity his spirits regained their usual cheerfulness,
after such trials and disappointments. He never, in my hearing,
threatened to commit suicide; nor do I believe he did on any occasion:
the only expression I ever heard him make use of, that could in any
way be construed into such a threat, was, that he would not go to St
Helena,--"Je n'irai pas a St Helene."
As Buonaparte always retired early to bed, it was the custom for the
French ladies and officers to assemble every evening in the ward-room,
and partake of wine and water, punch, or bishop--a mixture consisting
of Port, Madeira, nutmeg, and other ingredients, well known to
sailors, and much relished by our foreign guests.
I was sitting this evening next Montholon, when Madame Bertrand
entered; I said to her, "Will you not sit down and take something?"
She gave an answer which I took for No; and passed rapidly into the
first lieutenant's cabin, which she had occupied since she came on
board. Montholon, who had observed her with more attention than I had
done, immediately rose and followed her. There was instantly a shriek
from the cabin, and a great uproar; and some one called out 'The
Countess is overboard.' I ran upon deck, that, in the event of its
being so, a boat might be lowered down, or the guard-boats called to
her assistance. On looking over the quarter, and seeing no splash in
the water, I felt satisfied it was a false alarm, and returned to the
ward-room. Madame Bertrand had by this time been placed on her bed,
where she was lying in strong hysterics, at intervals abusing the
English nation and its Government, in the most vehement and unmeasured
terms; sometimes in French and sometimes in English. Lallemand was
walking up and down the ward-room much agitated, joining in the abuse;
saying, among other things, "that it was horrible to bring a set of
people on board the ship for the purpose of butchering them." I turned
to him, and said, "Monsieur Lallemand, what a woman says in the state
of violent irritation that Madame Bertrand at present is, I consider
of little consequence, and am willing to make every allowance for the
situation you are placed in; but I cannot stand by and hear such terms
used of the Government of my country; and if you do not desist, or
make use of more respectful language, I shall be under the necessity
of taking measures that will be very unpleasant both to you and
myself."
This had the effect of silencing him. When the bustle had subsided, I
retired to my cabin, and was employed in writing the foregoing letter
to Lord Melville, in behalf of Messrs Savary and Lallemand; when the
latter, attended by Generals Montholon and Gourgaud, came in. They
immediately entered into conversation with me about the cruelty of
their situation: among many other things, they said, "You may depend
upon it, the Emperor never will go to St Helena; he will sooner put
himself to death; he is a man of determined character, and what he
says he will do." "Has he ever said he will put himself to death?" I
asked. They answered, "No; but he has said he will not go, which
amounts to the same thing; and were he to consent himself, here are
three of us who are determined to prevent him." I told them they had
better consider the consequences well, before they ventured on a
measure of that kind.
The next day, August 1st, 1815, I waited on Lord Keith, and reported
all that had occurred during the preceding day. I also showed him the
letter I had written and meant to send to Lord Melville, respecting
Generals Savary and Lallemand; he read it, and said, "that though he
did not agree with me in opinion as to my honour or character being
implicated, yet that he saw no harm in the letter." He then said, "You
may tell those gentlemen who have threatened to be Buonaparte's
executioners, that the law of England awards death to murderers, and
that the certain consequence of such an act will be finishing their
career on a gallows."
After quitting his Lordship, I had an interview with Sir Henry
Bunbury, previous to his setting out for London, and stated to him my
feelings respecting the cruelty of delivering up to the French
Government, men who had been received under the protection of the
British flag. I said that I had no belief myself that any such
intention existed; but that they were so strongly impressed with the
conviction of it, that I had been induced to write to Lord Melville,
and now begged to state to him, that I should consider myself
dishonoured for ever, if they suffered death through my means. He
listened, but did not speak till I had finished; when he told me he
would repeat what I had said to his Majesty's Ministers.
Madame Bertrand kept her bed the whole of this day, and did not appear
at dinner. When Buonaparte came upon deck, he asked Mr O'Meara, the
surgeon, after her health; and then said, with an incredulous smile,
"Do you really think, Doctor, she meant to drown herself?" I put the
same question to Montholon; who said he had not a doubt of it, for,
when he followed her into the cabin, she was in the act of throwing
herself out of the gallery window; that he rushed forward and caught
hold of her, and that she continued suspended by the bar that goes
across the window, with the greater part of her body hanging out,
until he received assistance to drag her in. The bar above-mentioned
had been placed there for the purpose of preventing people from
falling overboard when the window was open and the ship had much
motion at sea.
On returning on board after being with Lord Keith, I went into Madame
Bertrand's cabin to see how she was, and found her in bed. I asked
her, how she could be so indiscreet as to attempt to destroy herself?
"Oh! I am driven to desperation," she said; "I do not know what I do;
I cannot persuade my husband to remain behind, he being determined to
accompany the Emperor to St Helena." She then ran into a great deal of
abuse of Napoleon, saying, "If his ends are served, he does not care
what becomes of other people. 'Tis true he has always given Bertrand
lucrative and honourable situations, but the expense attending them is
such, that it was impossible to save money; and he has never given him
a grant of land, or any thing that permanently bettered our
fortune."[9] On another occasion, she came into the cabin which I
occupied, when I was writing, and, after exacting a promise of secrecy
towards the remainder of the suite, she entreated I would take
measures to prevent her husband from accompanying Buonaparte, and
begged me to write a letter in her name to Lord Keith, to induce him
to interfere. I told her it would appear extremely officious in me to
write on such a subject, but that any thing she chose to put on paper
I would deliver to his Lordship. She did write, and I carried the
letter; but his Lordship declined interfering, desiring me to say, he
considered it the duty of every good wife to follow the fortunes of
her husband. In the course of the conversation above-mentioned, she
became extremely warm in speaking of Napoleon, saying, "He deserves
nothing at our hands; and, indeed, there is not one of his people who
would not most gladly quit him." Whenever she became animated, she
could not pour out her feelings in the English language fast enough,
(though she spoke it remarkably well, having received her education
partly in England,) when she had always recourse to French; and though
I frequently reminded her that there was nothing but a piece of
canvass between us and the ward-room, where there were generally some
of the French officers, I could by no means keep her within bounds.
The consequence of which was, that all she said was heard and
understood by one of them. When Madame Bertrand had left me, Count
Montholon requested to speak with me in private. He carried me up to
his cabin on the quarter-deck, where I found Generals Gourgaud and
Lallemand, who told me they had been informed of what Madame Bertrand
had said to me; and they had requested to see me, for the purpose of
contradicting her assertion, that they were desirous of quitting
Buonaparte: that, so far from that being the case, there was not one
of them that would not follow him with pleasure wherever he might be
sent, or that would not lay down his life to serve him: they also
required secrecy towards the Countess. I answered, "Why really,
gentlemen, this is very extraordinary; you pretend to know all that
passed in a private conversation I have had with Madame Bertrand, and
then to bind me to secrecy: you may depend upon it, I will enter into
no such engagement, until I know by what means you obtained your
information." They then told me that one of them had been in the
quarter-gallery, and overheard all she said.
[Footnote 9: [I cannot assent to your leaving out what Madame
Bertrand said respecting Bonaparte. But if she spoke
favourably of him in her calmer moments, I think it might be
mentioned in this place so as to claim some allowance for her
irritated state of feelings. It is, by-the-by, precisely at
such moments that real opinions start out which are at other
times carefully suppressed. What she said in her passion was
very true: B. was not fond of rendering his favourites
independent. I really think you cannot leave it out: as well
omit the threat of Savary &c., to kill B.--SCOTT.]]
Nothing of importance occurred during the 2nd of August. Buonaparte
did not appear upon deck; nor would he consent to nominate the people
who were to accompany him to St Helena; he still seemed to indulge a
hope, that the Government might be induced to reconsider the decision.
I had half an hour's conversation with him in the cabin: it consisted,
on his part, of complaints of the cruelty of sending him to St Helena.
He likewise asked me many questions about that island, as to its
extent, climate, and productions, whether it would be possible to take
exercise on horseback, if there was game of any kind upon it, &c.: to
all of which I could only answer from report, never having visited the
island myself. He conversed very little at dinner, and appeared
unwell. In the evening, General Bertrand informed me that the
sentinel's calling out "All's well!" during the night disturbed him,
and prevented his sleeping; upon which I gave directions they should
not do so while he remained on board.
During the 3rd of August Buonaparte kept his cabin. When I went to the
Admiral, I met him escorting some ladies, in company with Sir William
Lemon, to the Ville de Paris's barge. On being introduced to Sir
William, he told me that a report was in circulation that a boat was
to have been under the Bellerophon's stern the night before, at ten
o'clock, for the purpose of effecting Buonaparte's escape. Although I
gave no credit to the report, I immediately returned on board, and
asked the first lieutenant if Buonaparte had been seen that morning;
he informed me that he had not attended breakfast, and that no person
had seen him but his own people. I then sent to the Eurotas, which lay
astern of the ship, to enquire if he had appeared at the stern
windows; but was answered in the negative: upon which I desired one of
the young gentlemen to go out on the spanker-boom and look into the
cabin windows, to ascertain if he was sitting on the sofa; but he
could not discover him in any part of the cabin. I then became
extremely uneasy, and sent my servant in to bring some paper out, who
on entering found the object of my anxiety stretched out on his bed
with his clothes on, and the curtains drawn close round him, with
every appearance of being unwell. I had before asked Count Bertrand
about him, who said he had passed a bad night, and was too ill to
leave his apartment.
Instead of retiring to his bed this evening between eight and nine
o'clock, as was his usual custom, I heard him and another person (I
believe General Bertrand) pacing up and down the cabin until past
eleven; and in consequence gave directions to the officer of the watch
and the sentries to be particularly vigilant; and ordered one of the
guard-boats to remain under the ship's stern all night. He had still
declined all this day giving a list of those that he wished to attend
him to St Helena.
At three in the morning of the 4th of August, the officer of the watch
brought me a letter from Lord Keith, informing me that a courier had
just arrived from London, and that it was probable the ship would be
required to put to sea at a moment's notice. In consequence of this
order, we unmoored at daylight, bent the top-gallant sails, and made
other preparations for getting under weigh. The Frenchmen were very
watchful of all our motions, appeared much alarmed and annoyed, and
questioned me frequently as to the cause. I told them, what was
literally the fact, that I had received directions to be ready to put
to sea, but had no orders to carry it into effect; and that was all I
knew.
Between seven and eight o'clock, I waited on Lord Keith, who said he
had received information that a habeas corpus had been taken out for
the purpose of bringing Buonaparte on shore, and that a lawyer was on
his way down to serve it; desiring me, therefore, to be ready to put
to sea whenever the signal might be made.
On returning on board, I had an interview with Buonaparte, who was
very urgent to know why the ship was preparing for sea. I told him, by
Lord Keith's directions, that it was the intention of our Government,
his removal should take place at sea; and that we were going out to
meet the Northumberland, the ship which was to convey him to St
Helena.
He begged I would write to Lord Keith, and say he wished very much to
see him; and Count Bertrand told me he was also desirous of having the
newspapers. I accordingly wrote to his Lordship, who was then on board
the Tonnant: who, however, declined visiting him, but sent me a note,
of which the following is an extract.
Extract of a Note from Admiral Viscount Keith, addressed to Captain
Maitland, of H.M.S. Bellerophon, dated Tonnant, 4th August.
"I send you the paper, and shall be glad to hear the determination of
the General, whom you may inform that the answer is arrived from
London, and that I have no authority to alter, in any degree, any part
of the former communication; which induces me to wish the selection of
the persons he is inclined should attend him."
I communicated the contents to General Bertrand, who made his report
to Buonaparte. On his coming out of the cabin, I pressed him on the
subject of nominating those that were to go with him to St Helena; but
the only answer he returned was, "L'Empereur n'ira pas a St
Helene;"--the Emperor will not go to St Helena.
Soon after nine o'clock, the Bellerophon's signal was made to prepare
to weigh, and at half-past nine to weigh: we immediately started. As
the light air of wind that blew was right into the Sound, and the
flood-tide against us, the guard-boats were sent ahead to tow; but,
soon observing a suspicious-looking person in a boat approaching the
ship, I ordered one of them to cast off, keep under the ship's stern,
and not allow any shore boat, under any pretext, to come near us. The
person alluded to proved afterwards to have been the lawyer mentioned
by Lord Keith; not with a Habeas Corpus, but a subpoena for
Buonaparte to attend a trial at the Court of King's Bench as a
witness. He was, however, foiled: as Lord Keith avoided him, and got
on board the Prometheus, off the Ramehead, where he remained until
joined by the Tonnant; while the guard-boat prevented him from
approaching near enough to the Bellerophon, to serve his writ on
me.[10]
[Footnote 10: [The business of the Habeas Corpus is so
whimsical that Capt. M. should get some legal friend to give
a brief idea of the nature of the process and the purpose for
which it was resorted to. The book will certainly be
instantly translated into French, and such an explanation as
I have hinted at will be extremely necessary. It should be
thrown into a note; a few words should be added on the
absurdity of the attempt. It will be otherwise thought and
said that Bonaparte was kidnapped out of England contrary to
the English laws. The real nature of the transaction should
be distinctly explained.--SCOTT. The following note
accordingly appears in the original edition:--]
To prevent erroneous impressions from going abroad, and to
put this curious circumstance in its true light, I have
prevailed on a friend, who was educated for the English bar,
to favour me with the following account of the writs of the
Habeas Corpus and subpoena; by which it will appear that no
such process, or any other, as far as I can understand, could
have had the effect of removing Buonaparte from one of His
Majesty's ships, and causing him to be landed in England in
opposition to the commands of the Government of the country.
"It is a common mistake to suppose that the celebrated Habeas
Corpus Act made it a matter of right, for every person, under
any restraint whatever to obtain this writ. That statute
related to persons committed by legal process for criminal
offences, and the object of it was to prevent them being
detained an unnecessary or unreasonable length of time,
without being brought to trial. Other cases of alleged
illegal detention were left as at common law: in these the
granting or refusal of the writ is discretionary in the
Court, or Judge applied to, and it will only be issued on a
proper case being laid before them. No such writ, it is
believed, was ever applied for in Buonaparte's case; nor, if
applied for, would it have been obtained. Where a foreigner,
in private life, is brought to England, and detained against
his will, the Court will grant the writ; but any application
of Buonaparte, or on his behalf, must have shown him to have
surrendered, and to have been then detained as a prisoner of
war. Under that character, he was not entitled to the benefit
of this writ; the Courts having refused it on the application
of individuals brought to England as prisoners of war, even
when applied for by the subject of a neutral power, who swore
to his having been compelled by force to serve the enemy, and
to have been captured in the course of that compulsory
service.