yet it is in your name that the tortures of a lingering death are
inflicted on him, to whom you gave the hand of your beloved daughter;
whom your own choice and religion have made your son.

Ah, Sire! tremble lest his blood-stained coat should be presented to
you!... And when the day of eternal judgment shall arrive, when the
Supreme Judge of men and things, pronouncing his terrible decrees,
shall ask, “What have you done with your son? Why did you separate the
husband from the wife? How durst you disunite those who had been
joined and blessed in my name? I might award victory to whom I
pleased; but none could take advantage of that victory to abuse my
holy laws, without incurring my anger—--”

But, Sire, I say no more: perhaps I have already gone too far. I crave
your Majesty’s forgiveness. These are the sentiments by which I am
powerfully excited;—these are the complaints that are wrung from me by
the murder of my master, which has been perpetrating before my eyes.
Sire, on my knees, I implore your interference, to prevent the crime
of homicide. Be not deaf to my entreaties!

                                      I am &c.[38]

                                                      COUNT LAS CASES.

Footnote 38:

  A similar letter was addressed to the Emperor Alexander, and the
  King of Prussia.

          LETTER TO LORD CASTLEREAGH, WITH A COPY OF THE NOTE
                  ADDRESSED TO THE ALLIED SOVEREIGNS.

MY LORD,—I have the honour to present to your Lordship a copy of a
note, which I took the liberty of addressing to the Allied Sovereigns.

I am induced to transmit this note to you, my Lord, on account of my
profound respect for the august individual whom you represent, and the
esteem I entertain for your Lordship’s personal talents.

Whatever may be your opinions, my Lord, respecting this note, perhaps
even your objections to it, I am convinced your Lordship has too much
generosity to condemn, wholly and without reserve, a servant, who is
resolved, until the latest moment of his existence, to exert every
effort for the relief and consolation of his Sovereign.

My Lord, how great has been your influence on the destiny of that
Sovereign! How great may it yet be! Why cannot my voice reach your
Lordship’s ear? In the anguish of my tedious solitude, I have
frequently sought to discover the great motives which might have
dictated your harsh and cruel determination. My mind dwells only on
the interest of your country, the rigorous law of necessity, the
conviction of the character and disposition of him at whom you aim the
blow; and finally, the glory and responsibility of your ministerial
situation. Has your Lordship been able to combine together the whole
of the contradictory circumstances? Have you exhausted every source of
information? How I regret that the impaired state of my health and
faculties does not permit me adequately to express my feelings and
thoughts! They would perhaps make an impression on you, my Lord:
perhaps many facts, that I could relate, would excite your
astonishment and serious consideration.

                      I have the honour to be, &c.

                                                    COUNT LAS CASES.

The period of the meeting of the Congress having arrived, I went to
Frankfort, and happened to reach that place on the very day on which
the Emperor Alexander made his entry. This was no doubt a very
favourable opportunity to solicit the favour of being presented to
that Sovereign; and his well known affability, the facility with which
he grants admission into his presence, and perhaps also the peculiar
circumstances relating to me, were so many encouragements to the hope
of easily obtaining an audience, and I was consequently strongly
advised by every body to attempt it. It was the surest way, they said,
to accomplish the object I had in view, and I was much blamed for
refusing to make the trial. But I had maturely weighed within my own
breast the advantages and disadvantages of such a step, and I was far
from sharing the general opinion as to the probability of its result.
To what, had I said to myself, could such a high favour lead me? Could
I expect to touch the heart of this Sovereign by my eloquence? And if
my words had produced some effect upon him as a man, was not the final
decision to proceed from the concurrence of many others? And was I
certain, in an interview of so little duration, and of so much
embarrassment, to speak with as much method and precision as I could
write? Was it right for me to deliver to him, before the proper time
had arrived, authentic documents, which I intended only for the
Sovereigns assembled, as if it were an ordinary petition? And, if the
Emperor Alexander had happened to express himself in my presence,
respecting the Emperor Napoleon, in terms which I could not but have
contradicted, as it was but too probable that he would express
himself, might it not turn out that I had irritated and indisposed,
instead of conciliating, him? This latter consideration had chiefly
led to my determination not to seek for an audience, which presented
so many objections and offered but a single advantage, and that one
personal to me, viz., the signal favour of seeing the first of
monarchs, and of conversing with him of whom Napoleon had said on his
rock; “If I die here, he will be my heir in Europe.”

Besides, the Emperor Alexander knew that I was at Frankfort. I was
told that he had mentioned it in one of his circles, and I was almost
certain that he had been spoken to about me. The circumstance from
which I obtained this information is singular enough to be mentioned
here. My room at the hotel where I had alighted happened to be next to
that of one of his generals, who possessed his intimate confidence,
and who was admitted into his presence at all times. The second or
third evening after my arrival, the master of the hotel came into my
room to inform me that the General was ready to receive me, and that
he would have much pleasure in granting me the interview which I had
asked for. In the first moment of surprise, my immediate answer was to
bid him go and say it was a mistake; but, suddenly reflecting that
this was, perhaps, a fortunate circumstance, brought about by the
intervention of Providence, I ran after the man who was already
delivering his message, and explained myself from the door of the
apartment, that there was probably some error, since I had not the
honour of asking such a favour; upon which the General ran towards me,
as if to detain me, and dismissing his Aide-de-camp, said to me, with
an air of affability and politeness, that, whether it was through
mistake or not, he should be happy to avail himself of this
opportunity to become acquainted, and have some conversation with me.
And we then had a very long conversation together, and, as it will be
easily believed, wholly relating to St. Helena.

I had only come to Frankfort to deposit, in due form, all my documents
in the respective legations, and that done, I returned immediately to
Manheim, in order to escape from the bustle and from the intrigues of
Frankfort. Several persons came thither and offered to serve me at the
Congress, assuring me that their services might be of very great
importance, and proposing to become very zealous agents in my cause.
For this assistance I should of course have been obliged to pay very
largely, and it has been seen that I had scarcely wherewith to supply
the first wants of him for the uncertain interests of whom large sums
were demanded of me. During the sitting of the Congress, and whilst I
was waiting in the hope of a favourable decision from the Sovereigns,
I was destined to receive, even in my solitude at Manheim, fresh
proofs of the perverseness of Sir Hudson Lowe, and of the ill
treatment which he continued to inflict upon his victims. An
unfortunate gunner of an East Indiaman found me out at Manheim, and
about the same time I received a large packet from General Bertrand.
The history of the gunner and of all the vexations to which he was
exposed from the Governor and his confidents, for having been the
bearer of a bust of young Napoleon, from which he hoped to derive some
advantage, by offering it at Longwood, is detailed at some length in
Mr. O’Meara’s work. This bust, which the Governor had at first
intended to throw into the sea, and the existence of which he
afterwards attempted to conceal by taking possession of it, under
pretence of making a present of it to Napoleon himself, was, however,
at last sent to Longwood, in consequence of the expression of public
indignation; and Count Bertrand sent to the gunner, as well for the
value of the bust as to indemnify him for all the vexations and losses
which it had occasioned him, one of the bills which I left with him at
my departure, amounting to 300_l._ Count Bertrand, on sending the bill
to the gunner, requested him to acknowledge the receipt of it; but the
poor fellow, so far from being enabled to acknowledge the receipt of
the bill, had not even heard of Count Bertrand’s Letter, and had been
obliged to pursue his voyage to India, after having delivered the
bust, with the following verbal information given to him by Sir Hudson
Lowe: “That the people of Longwood had destined some gratuity for him,
and that he would hear of it in the course of time.” On his return
from India, the unfortunate gunner was not allowed to go on shore
during the whole time the ship stayed at St. Helena, and he was merely
told once more that what had been mentioned to him concerning his
interests was at the Admiralty in London. When he reached England, he
at last, upon inquiry, got the bill; and it was the first time he had
heard of it; but upwards of eighteen months had elapsed; the persons
on whom it was drawn no longer had the necessary funds, and he was
obliged to leave London with the melancholy persuasion that he had
lost both his bust and his money. This gunner was an inhabitant of
Dalmatia, and was going through Germany on his return home, by way of
Trieste, when he heard, by the greatest chance in the world, at
Frankfort, that he should find at Manheim the drawer of the bill which
he held; he therefore came to me, and his joy was as lively as his
imprecations against Sir Hudson Lowe were abundant, on receiving that
sum which, as he said, was a little fortune to him, and would render
him happy for the remainder of his life.

The large packet which I received from the Grand Marshal consisted of
a long letter from him, written by order of the Emperor, and of sundry
authentic documents which had arrived out of the regular channel. But,
to my great surprise, the very day when I received that letter, I read
its contents in the Netherland newspapers, as extracted and
re-translated from the English papers. Guessing what had been the
intentions at Longwood, I nevertheless sent an official copy of that
letter to Lord Liverpool, as will be seen presently. I insert here all
those documents, because Count Bertrand’s letter, giving a rather
detailed account of the ill treatment which the Emperor experienced
from the moment I had left him, lays before the reader a further
period of eighteen months of the history of Longwood. Some of these
documents, besides, have postscripts in Napoleon’s own hand-writing,
and are too remarkable to be left unnoticed.

              LETTER OF COUNT LAS CASES TO LORD LIVERPOOL.

MY LORD,—I have this instant received a long letter from Count
Bertrand; and at the same moment, to my great surprise, have seen that
letter printed in the _Vrai Liberal_, of Brussels, re-translated from
the _Morning Chronicle_ of London.

To inform your Lordship how that has happened is beyond my power; but
I can assure you, with great truth, that it is without my
participation, and that I sincerely regret the circumstance. I can
only explain it by supposing that one of your countrymen only
consented to take charge of the packet from Longwood, upon condition
of receiving it open, and being assured that it concerned the honour
of his country; and that, on his arrival in London, he communicated
its contents to the public, and forwarded it to me at the same time.
Things would not have been so, my Lord, if, agreeably to my continued
solicitations, I had obtained permission to reside in England.
Persuaded as I am, and as Count Bertrand seems to suspect, that the
atrocious vexations and the indignities which are daily inflicted upon
Longwood may be unknown to the Administration, it would have been to
you, my Lord, who are at the head of that Administration, and to you
alone, that I should immediately have applied to inform you of such
unheard-of grievances; thus furnishing you with the means, and leaving
to you the merit, of redressing them.

I entreat your Lordship to believe that it would have been only after
I had in vain exhausted every step required by decorum, after I had,
in vain, applied, in the order of their rank, to the different
authorities, that I should have adopted the extreme measure of
addressing myself at last to public opinion, which will only be
appealed to and pronounced in the last instance. I gave a proof of
this disposition, my Lord, when, after eight months of absolute
silence on the part of Lord Bathurst, to the statement which I
addressed to his Lordship of various grievances, of which I had the
honour of asking redress at his hands, and which I should, at least,
have been justified in publishing, I did not however do so, until some
ill-timed observations of one of your Members of the House of Commons
rendered it a matter of positive necessity. I gave a proof of it, my
Lord, at the period of the earnest entreaties which my heart prompted
me to make at Aix-la-Chapelle, when I carefully transmitted to Lord
Castlereagh himself a copy of the solicitations and complaints which I
respectfully laid at the feet of the Allied Sovereigns. Lastly, my
Lord, it is to give, as much as lies in my power, an additional proof
of that disposition, that I hastily cause a copy to be made of the
letter of Count Bertrand, in order that your Lordship may possess
direct and authentic knowledge of that document, and lay it before his
Royal Highness the Prince Regent.

A prey to bodily sufferings, caused by the insalubrious climate of St.
Helena, as well as to the moral sufferings by which my separation was
aggravated; the deplorable state of my health is such that every kind
of application is forbidden to me by the faculty. I cannot, therefore,
add any thing to the letter, of which I have the honour of addressing
you a copy. Besides, what commentary could equal the bare recital of
the facts which it contains?

I have the honour to be, with the highest consideration, my Lord, &c.

P. S.—After having addressed your Lordship on the subject of interests
of so high and sacred an importance, may I be allowed to take
advantage of the opportunity thus naturally afforded to descend to the
consideration of objects that are merely personal to me?

Am I not to expect any redress, or to obtain any answer concerning the
numerous grievances of which I have complained? Am I, above all, to
continue to be deprived of the papers which have now been detained at
St. Helena two years, notwithstanding the many protestations which I
made to Sir Hudson Lowe himself; notwithstanding the letter which I
had the honour of addressing to his Royal Highness the Prince Regent,
on that subject, from the Cape of Good Hope; the letter which I wrote
to one of your colleagues from the same place, and on the same
subject; and, lastly, notwithstanding the letter which I addressed to
Lord Bathurst from Frankfort? Can this obstinate and absolute silence,
to demands so just and so often reiterated, be intended as a formal
denial of justice? I cannot believe it, my Lord. I know the power and
superiority of your laws, and the respect which every Englishman is
bound to shew to them, whatever his rank or situation in life may be;
and I must therefore suppose that the fault lies with me, who, not
knowing how to act, transgress, in all probability, the established
rules and formalities. But, in that case, my Lord, would it not be
proper, just, and considerate, to inform me of those rules, or even to
dispense with them?—My Lord, I demand that favour of your generosity.
Those papers, which I allowed Sir Hudson Lowe to peruse at the time,
are, from their nature, entirely foreign to the object of the custody
of your prisoner; they cannot be of any importance to you in that
point of view; and to me they are dear and invaluable beyond all
expression.

           LETTER FROM COUNT BERTRAND TO COUNT DE LAS CASES.

MY DEAR LAS CASES,—I received, on the 7th of June, the letter which
you did me the honour to write to me on the 15th of January last; and
I have since then received, on the 13th of this month, your letters of
15th February, 15th March, and 15th April;[39] the contents of which I
have communicated to the Emperor, and which have determined him to
desire me to write to you. I received, four months ago, a box of books
and pamphlets, addressed to me by Mr. Goulburn; and since then, a very
obliging offer to send a picture, which was in the bed-chamber at St.
Cloud, representing the christening of little Napoleon. Mr. Henry
Goulburn had been kind enough to bargain with the owner of the picture
for its purchase, and to get the price reduced to half the original
demand. No answer has been returned to that offer, because it has
seemed to form so strange a contrast with what takes place here, that
it has been looked upon as a measure connected with parliamentary
discussions, something like those relative to the wooden house. I have
been much struck by the polite behaviour observed towards you, and by
all you tell me in your last letter.[40]... Can it be, that the
horrible vexations which we are made to experience are not sanctioned
by the English Government, and that the Emperor is dying here a victim
of the individual hatred of the Governor? Governments and Princes may
be so easily deceived that I write this letter under strong feelings
of doubt on the subject.

Footnote 39:

  See those letters in the sequel of these pages.

Footnote 40:

  Experience seems to have proved too clearly that there existed more
  knowledge of mankind at Longwood than in the Frankfort
  correspondent.

Things are much altered since your departure in 1817. And in this
year, 1818, the vexations to which the Emperor has been exposed are
such that they must be considered as an attempt against his life. You
will judge by the detail. You must have read in the papers of March
some observations upon the speech of Lord Bathurst. But things have
grown considerably worse since then; and the hatred of the Governor of
this Island has known no bounds.

When you left us, the Emperor had renounced riding, in order to avoid
the snares laid, and the affronts intended, for him, by causing him to
be insulted by the sentries. He has since been obliged to give up
walking, in order to avoid the same inconveniences. During the months
of March and April, the Emperor went out sometimes to call upon my
wife, and sometimes he would sit upon a certain bench, which you know,
about fifty paces from the house, and where he would stay half an hour
or an hour. But means have been found to prevent him from doing that,
and to oblige him to confine himself strictly to the house. They knew
that this was not very difficult. A soldier of the 66th regiment was
placed as gardener, and a serjeant had been stationed at my house.
Both were very useful, either in rooting out weeds, which might poison
the air, for no garden can exist in such a situation; or in repairing
the house, which is in a ruinous state, and admits water whenever it
rains. That arrangement appears very rational; but the Governor had
invested these two soldiers with a right to stop whomsoever they
thought proper, even at the doors and under the very windows of the
Emperor. From that moment he has not stirred out of the house, and one
hundred days have now elapsed since he has even put his head outside
of a window.

This climate, this absolute want of exercise, added to the badness of
the habitation, have affected his health to such a degree that you
would not recognise him. Since the end of September, 1817, he has had
the first symptoms of a chronic hepatitis, which, as you know, is
mortal in this country. He had to attend on him the worthy O’Meara, in
whom, you know, he has confidence; but, in the month of April, at the
moment when he was most in want of his attention, Sir Hudson Lowe
obliged him to tender his resignation, wishing to force the Emperor to
have Baxter, whom you also know. The Emperor has refused to see any
doctor; from the 10th April to the 10th May, he had none. At last, the
Russian and Austrian Commissioners, indignant at this treatment,
informed the Governor that, if the Emperor were to die under these
circumstances, they themselves should not know what to say, should an
opinion prevail in Europe that he had been murdered. This seems to
have determined the Governor to reinstate the Doctor; but he has
subjected him to every species of ill treatment. He attempted to get
him expelled from the mess of the 66th regiment; and, as these brave
officers refused to share in so arbitrary an act, he himself caused an
order to be given to the Doctor, through the Colonel, to cease to dine
with the officers of the 66th. He has written to London, and it is
probable that O’Meara will be sent away. The Emperor will not,
however, receive any other Doctor; and if the Prince Regent, or Lord
Liverpool, do not take cognizance of the fact, he will die here of his
disease, deprived of even the assistance of his physician. The Emperor
has, however, been very ill for the last two months. He rises at
eleven o’clock in the morning, and lies down again at two o’clock p.
m. A few days ago, he experienced a very violent crisis, produced by
the mercury which Dr. O’Meara administered to him for a liver
complaint. Dr. O’Meara, alarmed at his responsibility, proposed to me
to send for Mr. Baxter and the surgeon of the Conqueror; they are the
two first medical men here. You know the dislike which the Emperor had
to Mr. Baxter, founded upon his having been formerly Staff-surgeon of
the Italian division commanded by Sir Hudson Lowe. That dislike has
much encreased since, in consequence of his having lent himself,

from October, 1817, to March, 1818, to the production of bulletins
filled with falsehoods, and which have deceived his Government and all
Europe. But the Emperor did not see any inconvenience in O’Meara’s
calling in Mr. Stokoe, although he did not much like it; and that
gentleman consequently came to Longwood at three o’clock in the
afternoon of the same day, but would not go into the Emperor’s
apartment, fearing lest he should compromise his responsibility, and
lose a situation obtained after forty years’ service. This appeared to
me so extraordinary that I would not believe it. I therefore spoke to
him, and he expressed his regret at not being able to comply with our
wishes; for he is a very respectable man. His refusal is, however,
easily explained; it proceeded from a hint that had been given to him,
in the same manner as had been done to Cole, the banker, whom you
know. Having some money matters to settle with him, I sent for him;
but, on arriving at my house, he declared that he could not speak to
me but in presence of the officer on duty, because he should be ruined
if he did. Of course I refused. The same thing happened, a few days
since, with a Mr. Fowler, arrived from England, with whom I had an
account of a few hundred pounds to settle, for clothes ordered in
London. It is true that you are not acquainted with the situation in
which we are now placed, and which cannot be compared to what it was
in your time. It was even then sufficiently unpleasant; and, knowing
the Emperor as you do, you ought to have strenuously opposed the idea
of any member of his family coming out hither. The spectacle of the
humiliations, the vexations, and the hatred to which he is exposed,
would be altogether unbearable for him, if his mother or any of his
brothers were to share in it. Even to Count Montholon and myself, who
are now the only two with him, he has often said that he wished us to
quit St. Helena, to free ourselves from such a treatment, and to leave
him alone; and that his agony would be less bitter if he did not see
us share in it. You know that the officers had long since discontinued
to come to my house; but, when we met them on the road, they would
very politely stop and speak to my wife; this has now been forbidden
to them, not in writing, it is true, but by hints; so that it has
often happened that when they have seen us at a distance they have
gone out of the road.

Things have come to such a pass that our dirty linen remains several
days, to be examined by the Captain on duty, and sometimes by the
Staff; a most indecent proceeding, and most dishonourable for them,
but the object of which is to degrade and insult us.

In the month of June 1816, a store-ship brought out a marble bust of
young Napoleon: Sir Hudson Lowe ordered the bust to be thrown into the
sea. This he has since denied; but we have the fact judicially
attested; for the act disgusted Lady Malcolm, who was still at St.
Helena, as well as all the captains of store-ships that were on the
island.

Since that time, in February last, the Cambridge store-ship brought
out two prints of young Napoleon, which had been bought in London: Sir
Hudson Lowe purchased them under pretence of presenting them to the
Father, and when the officers heard, a month afterwards, that it was,
on the contrary, to keep them from him, they could not contain their
indignation that an Englishman should have been guilty of such
conduct.

The British Government cannot be ignorant of all these proceedings. If
what the Emperor said here to Lord Amherst has been repeated in
London, if Captain Poppleton, whom you know, and who was the officer
on duty during two years, has been questioned, if Colonel Nichols of
the 66th regiment, and Colonel Fehrzen of the 53d regiment have been
questioned, as well as many others, it must be known to what unworthy
treatment we are exposed here.

If there be in Europe some enemies of the Emperor, who would have
approved the conduct of the British Government if they had taken away
Napoleon’s life, openly and publicly, on board of the Bellerophon,
there is not one who will not some day cover with imprecations and
opprobrium and disown those who adopt such cowardly means to attain
that end.

How are we to reconcile all this with what you write to me? perhaps by
the supposition of a correspondence filled with falsehoods, and
artfully managed. However, we on our side have for the last two years
complained openly and loudly; and the criminal conduct pursued here
must be known in London,

You will be surprised to hear me speak of the French, Austrian, and
Russian Commissioners who are here. We never saw them during the time
you were with us, and to this day they have not yet seen the Emperor
nor called upon us. But we have frequently met them on the roads
within our limits, which is a way of seeing each other sufficiently
ridiculous. Though the Emperor does not acknowledge them as
Commissioners, he has never refused to receive them as strangers.

With respect to the Governor, the Emperor has not seen him since the
month of April, 1816: you are aware of the reasons which induced him
not to receive him, after the insults which the Governor had offered
him.

This being the case, if Sir Hudson Lowe seeks to be revenged, such a
proceeding, though inconsistent with a generous mind, can be easily
explained. But how can Government have continued, during two years, to
repose its confidence in a man who has so strangely abused it?

I therefore earnestly request you, in the Emperor’s name, to inform
his family and relations of the situation in which he is placed; and
peremptorily to require that none of them will encrease his sufferings
by coming to share in them.

You tell us that the English Government has subscribed for us to the
Morning Chronicle; but the same thing happens with this paper as with
the Times; it is sent to us after those numbers which it is thought
proper to conceal from us have been previously withdrawn. Thus we have
had some numbers of February and some of March, but all those that it
was their pleasure to withdraw have never been sent to us. Not to have
a regular series of a newspaper is worse than to have none.

How could any book be sent to us, since, as soon as a store-ship comes
out, the Governor immediately purchases all the books they have
brought out, particularly French books, in order to prevent our buying
them?

With respect to the pamphlets, which you announce as sent to us, we
only received one box of them on the 12th March, from which we
conclude that probably the remainder have been kept.

I have read this letter to the Emperor, who has approved of its
contents, but has thought that I had very feebly expressed the
baseness of the conduct observed towards him. He desires me to send
you two notes written by himself, which will give you the whole of his
opinion respecting the officer to whom the superintendence of this
country has been intrusted. The calomel which the Emperor has taken
has not hitherto had any beneficial effect on the liver, and has
produced other ailments.

Accept, my dear Las Cases, the assurance of affectionate feelings
which I entertain towards you.

                                                       COUNT BERTRAND.

P. S. During the few days that have elapsed since this letter was
written, many things have happened which will prove to you that our
situation, far from improving, as you seem to suppose, is daily
growing worse.

You know that Captain Mackey of the 53d regiment, had been succeeded
at Longwood, as officer on duty, by Captain Poppleton of the same
regiment, and that Poppleton, at his departure, had been succeeded by
Captain Blackeney of the 66th, who, like his predecessors, enjoyed a
most excellent reputation in his regiment. This latter officer already
thought, on the first days after his arrival, that the Governor
required of him some acts unworthy of a man of honour; but as the
number of those objectionable acts had greatly increased since that
time, he at last ardently longed for the expiration of his year of
service in that degrading post, in order to have nothing more to do
with it. It is known that he declared confidentially to his friends in
the regiment, that it was impossible for a man of honour to continue
in that post without losing his own esteem. It may be also that Sir
Hudson Lowe was not satisfied with the avowed sentiments of Captain
Blackeney; be that as it may, on the 20th of this month, an officer
who had been sent out to take the command of the militia, and whose
former connexion with Sir Hudson Lowe is known to you, the only one
out of the whole of the Governor’s staff whom the Emperor refused to
see, came to instal himself as officer on duty, and with him, under
various pretences, another officer, so that we had two instead of one.
It appears that some rooms and articles belonging to Government, which
had been given in common between the officer on duty and Doctor
O’Meara, have occasioned some violent contentions between them.

On the 22nd I sent the protest marked A[41] to the Governor, who sent
me a challenge by the officer alluded to. It was beneath my character
and my situation to provoke Sir Hudson Lowe, but on this occasion I
thought proper to address to him the letter marked B.[41]

On the 24th, he sent Dr. O’Meara away from Longwood, by virtue, he
said, of an order from Lord Bathurst, as you will see by the
Governor’s letter to Count Montholon, marked C.[41] to which Count
Montholon answered by the letter marked D.[41]

Footnote 41:

  See these letters in the following pages.

Doctor O’Meara, you know, was attached to the Emperor, instead of his
own physician, by a decision of the Council, and in consequence of a
special demand to that effect, addressed by me to Admiral Keith; he
could not therefore be taken away from the Emperor, but by an order in
Council. If such an order exists, why are we not made acquainted with
it? Certainly neither the Council nor Lord Bathurst would have removed
from the Emperor the physician of his own choice, without having
previously supplied his place by another, in whom the Emperor had
confidence; they would have felt the responsibility attached to such a
step.

But if even there had been an order in Council, it would not justify
the Governor; for that order, given under ordinary circumstances,
could not be carried into execution at the moment when the Emperor was
seriously indisposed. It never can have been intended that his
physician should be taken from him amidst his attendance in the case
of a disease of so serious a nature, and which threatens his
existence; particularly as since the month of April it has been
demanded that if it were intended to take Dr. O’Meara away from him,
another physician should be sent out from Europe in his stead, in whom
the Emperor has confidence. The answer to this demand must arrive
before three months are elapsed.

I conclude, my dear Las Cases: my heart is broken.

                                                             BERTRAND.

         FIRST NOTE, WRITTEN BY THE EMPEROR, ON THE BACK OF SIR
            HUDSON LOWE’S LETTER, DATED 18th NOVEMBER, 1817.

This letter, and the letters dated 24th July and 26th October last,
are filled with falsehoods. I have shut myself up in my apartment for
eighteen months, in order to shelter myself from the insults of this
officer. My health is now impaired, and will no longer allow me to
read such disgusting documents; send me no more of them.

Whether that officer considers himself authorized by verbal and secret
instructions from his minister, as he has given us to understand that
he does, or whether he acts of his own accord, which might be inferred
from the care which he takes to act with disguise, I cannot treat him
but as my assassin.

Had they sent out to this country a man of honour, not only I should
have experienced fewer vexations, but they would have saved themselves
many reproaches from Europe and history, which the farrago of writing
of this crafty man will not deceive.

                                                             NAPOLEON.

_Longwood_, 23d November, 1817.

           SECOND NOTE, INSERTED IN THE MARGIN OF SIR THOMAS
          READE’S LETTER TO COUNT BERTRAND, DATED 25th APRIL,
                                 1818.

1.—I TOLD you yesterday, when you presented this letter to me, that I
would not know its contents, and that you were not to translate it to
me, since it is not conformable to the forms adopted for the last
three years.

2.—This fresh insult only dishonours that coxcomb. The King of England
alone can treat with me on a footing of equality.

3.—This crafty line of conduct has however an object: to prevent you
from disclosing _the criminal plot which has been carried on for the
last two years against my life_.

4.—It is thus that, while they appear to open a channel for
complaints, they in fact close every avenue.

5.—Thus, with the appearance of a wish to provide me with a house, and
after announcing a building for the last three years, I am however
still in this unhealthy barn, and no building is begun.

6.—It is thus that, whilst it appears that I am at liberty to ride on
horseback, indirect means are resorted to to prevent me from doing so
and from taking exercise; the want of which is the primary cause of my
complaint.

7.—The same means are resorted to, to prevent me from receiving any
visit. It is necessary for them to veil themselves in darkness.

8.—It is thus that, after having attacked my physician, after having
obliged him to tender his resignation, not wishing to be a passive
instrument and deprived of all moral independence, he is nevertheless
kept under arrest at Longwood, in order that it may be believed that I
have the benefit of his attendance, when it is well known that I will
not see him, that I have not seen him for the last fortnight, that I
never will see him as long as he is not set at liberty, and freed from
the oppression under which he is placed, and until he has regained his
moral independence in what concerns the exercise of his functions.

9.—It is thus that a false representation is made by causing bulletins
to be issued by a physician who has never seen me, and does not know
the state in which I am, nor the disease with which I am affected; but
that does very well to deceive the Prince and the people of England
and Europe.

10.—A ferocious joy is manifested at the aggravation of sufferings
which this privation of medical assistance adds to my protracted
agony.

11.—Demand that this note be sent to Lord Liverpool, as also your
letter of yesterday, and of 13th and 14th April, in order that the
Prince Regent may know my murderer, and may cause him to be brought to
public punishment.

12.—If he does not, _I bequeath the opprobrium of my death_ to the
reigning House of England.

                                                             NAPOLEON.

_Longwood, 27th April, 1818._

          Document A. PROTEST ADDRESSED TO THE GOVERNOR, ON
                         THE 22d JULY, 1818.

In the name of the Emperor Napoleon, I am enjoined to protest,

1.—Against all violation of our enclosure by servants, workmen or
others, whom you would secretly invest with public authority.

2.—Against the insults offered to Dr. O’Meara to compel him to leave
this place, and against the obstructions, either public or secret,
which you have opposed or may oppose to Napoleon’s being assisted in
his illness by the advice of some medical officer in whom he may have
confidence, who may be accredited in the service of his Britannic
Majesty, or known to practise publicly in the island.

3.—Against all testimonies, reports and writings of the militia
officer Hyster, who is only placed at Longwood to be an instrument of
hatred and vengeance.

                                                       COUNT BERTRAND.

            Document B. TO THE GOVERNOR, SIR HUDSON LOWE.

                                           _Longwood, 23d July, 1818._

SIR,—I have the honour to transmit to you a letter which I have just
received. The old man appears to me to be out of his senses. He can
have no knowledge of my official correspondence but by your orders. I
have not answered him, and shall not do so. He is only a subordinate
agent, and if his principal, a general officer, wishes to demand
satisfaction of me, I am ready to grant it.

                          I have the honour to be,

                                                       COUNT BERTRAND.

             Document C. THE GOVERNOR TO COUNT MONTHOLON.

                                  _Plantation House, 25th July, 1818._

SIR,—I do myself the honour to state to you, for the information of
Napoleon Bonaparte, that agreeably to the instructions which I have
received from Lord Bathurst, dated 16th May, 1818, I am directed to
remove Mr. O’Meara from his situation near the person of Napoleon
Bonaparte, and that I have accordingly given orders for him to leave
Longwood immediately. Rear Admiral Plampin has received, at the same
time, instructions from the Lords of the Admiralty to remove him from
this island. Lord Bathurst’s instructions further direct that, after
Mr. O’Meara’s departure, I am to order Dr. Baxter to attend upon
Napoleon Bonaparte, as physician, whenever he is requested to do so;
and that I am to inform him that he is to consider the health of
Napoleon Bonaparte as the chief object of his attention. On
communicating this arrangement, I am strictly enjoined to state, at
the same time, that if Napoleon Bonaparte has any reason not to be
satisfied with the medical attendance of Dr. Baxter, or if he prefers
any other physician of this Island, I am quite ready to acquiesce in
his wishes in that respect, and to allow any other medical
practitioner whom he may select to attend upon him, provided he
strictly conform to the rules established and now in force.

Having given Dr. O’Meara the orders for his departure, I have
furnished Mr. Baxter with the necessary instructions, and he will be
ready to repair to Longwood at the first summons. In the meantime,
until I am informed of the wishes of Napoleon Bonaparte on this
subject, I shall order a medical officer to be stationed at Longwood,
to be ready in case of emergency.

                      I have the honour to be, &c.

                                              HUDSON LOWE, Lieut.-Gen.

             Document D. COUNT MONTHOLON TO THE GOVERNOR.

SIR,—Dr. O’Meara quitted Longwood yesterday, being compelled to leave
his patient in the midst of the course of medicine which he was
prescribing for him; that course has ceased this morning. From this
morning a great crime is in progress!!! Nothing remains to be added to
Count Bertrand’s letters of the 13th, 24th, 26th and 27th April last.
The Emperor will never receive any other physician than Mr. O’Meara,
because he is the physician attached to him, or than the one who may
be sent from Europe to him, in conformity with the letter of the 13th
of August, which has been already mentioned.

I have communicated the letter you addressed to me yesterday. What I
have now the honour of writing to you is the substance of the reply I
have been desired to transmit.

                                             I have, &c.

                                                    COUNT MONTHOLON.

           LETTER OF COUNT BERTRAND TO HIS EMINENCE CARDINAL
                               FESCH.[42]

Footnote 42:

  We have thought it right to insert here this letter, because it
  affords additional details respecting the interior of Longwood, and
  adds new features to all that has been said of its real situation.

MY LORD,—The Sieur Cypriani, the Emperor’s steward, died at Longwood,
on the 27th of February last, at four in the afternoon. He was
interred in the Protestant burial-ground of this island, and the
ministers of their church have observed on this occasion the same
rites that they would have performed for one of their own persuasion.
Care has been taken that, in the extract from the register of deaths
which I shall send to you, though this paragraph of my letter might
answer the purpose, it should be stated that he died in the bosom of
the Roman Catholic church. The minister of the church of this country
would willingly have attended the deceased on his death-bed; but the
latter was anxious for a Catholic priest; and, as we have none, he
appeared to have no wish to see a clergyman of any other religion. I
should be glad if you would let us know what is the law of the
Catholic church upon this point, and whether a Catholic on his
death-bed may be attended by a minister of the church of England. We
cannot, however, sufficiently praise the proper feeling and the zeal
which were evinced on the present occasion by the clergy of the
island. Cypriani died of an inflammation in the bowels. He expired on
a Friday, and had attended his duties on the preceding Sunday without
having any presentiment of his approaching end. A child of one of
Count Montholon’s servants had died at Longwood a few days before. A
waiting-woman died some days ago of the same complaint. Such is the
effect of this unhealthy climate, in which few live to old age. Liver
complaints, dysentery, and inflammations in the bowels, carry off many
of the natives, but a still greater number of Europeans. We felt upon
this occasion, as we feel every day, the want of a minister of our own
persuasion. As you are our bishop, we wish you would send us out one,
either a Frenchman or an Italian. You will, in that case, select a man
of education, under forty years of age, and especially of a mild
disposition, and not imbued with antigallican principles.

The steward’s duty has devolved upon Mr. Pierron, of the household,
but he has been very ill; and, though convalescent, is still in a bad
state of health. The cook is in a similar condition. It would be,
therefore, necessary that either you, or Prince Eugene, or the
Empress, should send out a steward and a French or an Italian cook,
taken from amongst those who have been in the Emperor’s service, or
who may still be in the service of his family.

Your Eminence will find annexed: 1.—The papers found in M. Cypriani’s
portfolio; 2.—A brooch which he was in the habit of wearing, and which
I have thought it right to send home for his wife; 3.—An account of
all that is coming to him, amounting to 8,287 francs, or 345_l._ 5_s._
10_d._ sterling; 4.—A bill of exchange in favour of his heirs, for the
settlement of that account. The Emperor, knowing that his son is under
your care, and that his daughter is with Madame, only delays securing
an annuity to both his children, until he shall have been informed of
the fortune left by Cypriani, who appears to have funds in Genoa to a
rather considerable amount.

I will not afflict you by dwelling upon the state of the Emperor’s
health, which is not satisfactory. It has not, however, become worse
since the hot weather. I hope you will keep these details concealed
from Madame. Give no credit to the false reports that may be
circulated in Europe. Consider as the only fact that may be relied on
that for these twenty-two months past the Emperor has only quitted his
apartment occasionally, though very seldom, in order to pay a visit to
my wife. He has hardly seen any one, unless it be two or three
Frenchmen who are here, and the English Ambassador to China.

I beg that your Eminence will present my respects to Madame, and to
the individuals of her family, and accept the homage of the sentiments
with which I have the honour to be, &c.

                                                       COUNT BERTRAND.

           FIRST LETTER OF THE COUNT DE LAS CASES TO GENERAL
                          COUNT BERTRAND.[43]

I am going to devote to you the first moment that I can command. It is
now upwards of a year since I quitted Longwood; and during that time,
what troubles, what cares, what misfortunes of every kind have I not
had to contend with!!! I leave it to the newspapers to give you an
account of my tribulations. I shall avoid in my letters every
expression, every subject, that might afford a pretext for their being
withheld from you. I will promote, by all means in my power, the only
object I have in view, which is that you should receive from me the
proofs of a devotedness that will occupy every instant of the
remainder of my life. I have but too present to my mind the
consolation and happiness that I derived, when in your company, from
European recollections, not to give all my attention to the object of
procuring you that kind of consolation: Oh, my dear companions! who
will henceforth engross my thoughts of every day, and of every moment!
I am, therefore, writing to you on the first instant of freedom that I
enjoy from personal restraint; and regularly every month, on the same
day, I shall at least give you this token of my incessant anxiety for
you. Obstacles, perhaps, over which I shall have no control, may
prevent your receiving my letters; but, as far as regards me, death
alone can make me fail in my promise; and here I appeal to the
feelings of those who, being intrusted with the censorship of my
letters, might fancy that they found in their expressions some motives
for intercepting them. I beseech them to let me know of any
involuntary deviations on my part that might appear reprehensible to
them, in order that I may avoid them for the future. The necessity and
the consolation of domestic sentiments cannot be prohibited by public
morality: and such are the only sentiments which I shall endeavour to
gratify in writing to you.

I have just obtained in Austria the asylum which I demanded, as soon
as I found that my liberty was in danger. I shall repair to Lintz so
soon as the wretched state of my health will allow me to undertake the
journey. The headaches which first attacked me at the Cape are daily
encreasing in violence, and give me much uneasiness. I shall avail
myself of the free intercourse which is henceforth allowed me, in
order to procure some exact information respecting all those that may
be dear to you. To-day I can only give you such information as I have
been able to collect indirectly.

My wife, who, by the greatest good fortune, was refused permission to
go out to St. Helena, at the very moment when I was leaving it, and
who came to meet me upon the road, where I was carried about like a
bale of goods, is now on her return to Paris, whence she will bring
back the rest of my children. She will enable me to afford you some
details in my next letter concerning your family, and those of
Montholon and of Gourgaud.

I have been able to ascertain that H.M. Maria Louisa enjoyed excellent
health in Parma, and that nothing can exceed the health and beauty of
her son, who is at Schœnbrunn. The Countess de Survilliers is
detained here by the very infirm state of her health; she occasionally
receives news from her husband, who is quite well, in America. Both
her daughters are also well. The eldest bears a striking resemblance
to the august head of the family. Princess Borghese, Madame, the
Emperor’s mother, Prince Canino, Cardinal Fesch, and Prince Louis, are
at Rome, and in the enjoyment of excellent health; the remainder of
the family, Princess Eliza, Count de Montfort, and Princess Murat,
reside in various parts of Austria. I hope that in time I shall be
able to send you more direct and positive details. I feel the most
bitter regret that I was not able to land and fix my abode in England.
I am deprived of the means of procuring and sending immediately
whatever I might have thought calculated to afford you some trifling
diversion upon your horrible rock. This is a religious duty imposed
upon me, which I have solicited, and shall continue every day to
solicit, the British Ministers to allow me to fulfil. My constant
endeavours to persuade them upon that point will not allow me to
despair of success. Nevertheless, however far I may be from the spot,
I shall not fail to attain so sacred an object by the assistance of
some intermediate person; only you will receive the results of my
cares and of my efforts in a less complete manner, and at a later
period.

Be careful all of you of your health; live for the consolation, the
affection, the happiness, and the wishes of those who admire and love
you.

I received, upon my arrival at Dover, a letter from you, dated the 22d
July, and one of the 29th from Sir Hudson Lowe. They acquainted me
with what was unknown to me until then, that you had received the few
articles I had sent to Longwood from the Cape; that you had received
the document which was handed to me by you, and which I had returned,
respecting the money which at my departure I had presumed to lay at
the feet of the Emperor, and of which I was so happy as to procure the
acceptance. Sir Hudson Lowe informs me that all the bills relating to
this affair, which I had left in your hands, have been negotiated. I
hope they have been duly honoured. I know not yet myself the state of
my affairs. I have not yet had it in my power to write a single line
to my agent in London, or to receive any news from him.

I regret much that T have not in my power, and at my command, the
narrative of the campaigns of Italy. That distant epoch, already
removed from the politics of the present day, possesses henceforth all
the merit of history. It is anxiously wished for. Science and the
contemporaries of that period claim it. I should deem myself fortunate
if that work were confided to my care; and in case you should procure
that favour for me, I shall instantly take the means of availing
myself of it without delay, by at once inquiring in London, what are
the previous formalities that would be required, both in England and
at St. Helena, in order that I might receive that manuscript. I shall
request that the reply to me may be likewise transmitted to Sir H.
Lowe, in order that you may judge whether there would be no objection
on your part to do what might be required of you.

Write to me dear General, in your turn, by every opportunity; give me
all the commissions that may occur to your mind, whether serious or
trifling, easy or difficult, it matters not. Be persuaded, and
constantly bear in mind, that I live only for you and through you all.
My body alone has left your rock.

                                                   COUNT DE LAS CASES.

Footnote 43:

  It has been thought necessary to introduce here the following
  letters of Count de Las Cases; 1.—Because they are alluded to in the
  preceding letter from Count Bertrand, and help to complete the sense
  and understanding of it; 2.—Because they evince the candour and good
  faith with which this correspondence with Longwood was carried on;
  3.—In short, because they enable the reader to give its due value to
  the extraordinary assertion of Mr. Goulburn, who, whilst he received
  these letters, and acknowledged with courtesy the receipt of them,
  nevertheless ventured to affirm in the House of Commons, on a
  certain occasion, that the author’s expressions were always clothed
  in language admitting of a twofold interpretation. How can a man of
  candour, such as the person to whom the aforesaid letters were
  addressed, who had received, and must have read my letter to Lord
  Bathurst particularly, take upon himself to assert that the author’s
  expressions were always given in language that admitted of a double
  interpretation? Surely, Mr. Goulburn must be very fastidious in
  point of explicit and positive meaning, or else he does not
  understand French. But has he read? Has he misunderstood? Did he
  wish to misunderstand, and, in imitation of Lord Bathurst, may he
  not, like his noble patron, on the occasion of his famous denials to
  Lord Holland in the House of Peers, have founded his arguments not
  upon what really existed, but upon what appeared to his advantage?
  The communication of these letters is made chiefly from the
  necessity of enabling every one to judge of the degree of credit
  which is due to Mr. Goulburn’s assertion. That they were not
  intended to be made public is sufficiently evident from the careless
  and unaffected style in which they are written.

             SECOND LETTER OF COUNT DE LAS CASES TO GENERAL
                            COUNT BERTRAND.

                                           _Frankfort, 26 Jan., 1818._

Faithful to my promise, I write to you after the lapse of one month,
and on the same day on which my first letter was dated. I have at
heart to record the identical date, so that you may depend upon its
never being passed over without my addressing you. Some passages,
however, in my letter may perhaps be written subsequently to its date,
owing to the silence of Madame de Las Cases, whose letters I was in
daily expectation of receiving from Paris. It is now about a month
since she left me. She proposed calling upon all your relations, and
upon those of Generals Gourgaud and Montholon. She was to send me the
most circumstantial details respecting them. To my great surprise, I
have not heard from her, and as I do not wish to delay any longer
writing to you, I am under the necessity of postponing till next month
all the particulars, which I am quite certain she will have collected
with as much zeal and as much care as I could have done myself.

I have the satisfaction to know that my first letter has been
forwarded to you: I had enclosed it in one to Mr. Goulburn; his answer
has just reached me. I acknowledge with real pleasure that it is
filled with expressions of kind consideration, and is in all respects
satisfactory; this leads me to hope that what had hitherto taken place
proceeded from mutual misunderstanding.

He assures me of the readiness that will exist at all times to forward
my letters to you, so long as they shall be of the same nature as the
first, and not liable to any greater objections. He adds that,
conformably to my request, the books and pamphlets I may point out
will be sent to you. He offers to procure them, and to superintend
himself their regular transmission, taking care to remit to me from
time to time a note of their cost, in order that I may settle the
amount. He informs me that in case the Emperor shall think proper to
confide to me the _Campaigns in Italy_, Sir Hudson Lowe is forthwith
to receive instructions to transmit it to England, whence it will be
forwarded and delivered to me in the manner that may be desired at
Longwood, after taking such cognizance of it as may be deemed
necessary. Lastly, he apprizes me that my papers which were seized in
the Thames had been instantly sent back to me unopened; and that if I
had not yet received them, which is still the case, accident alone
could have occasioned the delay.

I am therefore in hopes that you will receive some publications with
this very letter. I am unfortunately at a great distance and
unpleasantly situated for selecting them, and for procuring them while
new; but I will immediately write to London to remedy this
inconvenience. I likewise hope that by the same opportunity I may be
able to send you many things of which you stand in need, or that may
prove acceptable to you, and others that may be of essential service
to the Emperor’s health.

Her Majesty Maria Louisa is quite well, and still resides in Parma.
Her son, from a late account given by a person who had seen him at a
juvenile ball, is remarkably handsome, and is the delight of all
Vienna. Such were the expressions used. He dances admirably, and is
passionately fond of that amusement.

All the members of the Emperor’s family have evinced the kindest and
most affectionate interest towards me. They have loaded me with offers
and good wishes. I shall fortunately have it in my power to afford you
regular accounts of them every month.

Prince Jerome has caused me to be assured that his offers of service
would know no other bounds than those of _impossibility_. He has given
an asylum near his person to the worthy and virtuous Planat, who,
after our separation on board the _Bellerophon_, was tossed about by
storms, and on the point of perishing on the coast. Princess Hortense
informs me that she has suffered much persecution; but that if the
torments inflicted upon her have originated in the tender and
respectful devotedness which fills her heart, they are a source of
pride and of happiness to her.

Whenever my health will allow me, I go to pay my respects to Princess
Joseph, who is confined to the most absolute retirement, and chiefly
to her bed, by the bad state of her health. We talk of St. Helena. Our
thoughts traverse the seas; those are happy moments for us. Her
daughters are quite well; her husband, from very late accounts, was
likewise well. He had taken under his care two of the Emperor
Napoleon’s servants, whom the British government had thought proper to
retrench from the establishment of Longwood.

Prince Lucien gives me an account of all those of the family who are
assembled in Rome. Madame, Cardinal Fesch, Princess Borghese, and
Prince Louis are all in the enjoyment of good health, and unite in
wishes and prayers for the health and preservation of their august
relative. As for Prince Lucien, he says he is happy in Rome; he has
just provided advantageously for his three daughters. Yet his mind and
his heart are incessantly directed towards St. Helena. He can no
longer reconcile himself to the idea of seeing his brother languishing
and dying in exile. He desires that I will candidly tell him whether
the Emperor would be as happy to see him as he himself would be to
appear before him; and conformably to his desire I write to the
British Government by the courier who bears this letter, to request
they will allow him to proceed to St. Helena, and to reside there a
couple of years or for life, if his brother does not send him away,
with or without his wife and children: his wife wishing to share in
the honour of his exile: and further, to state that he will engage not
to occasion any augmentation of expense, either for himself or for his
suite, and that he will submit to the same restrictions that are
imposed upon his brother, and to any others that it might be thought
proper to impose upon him personally, either before his departure, or
after his return.

I cannot refrain, my dear General, from again requesting you will
ascertain if the Emperor would intrust to me the _Campaigns in Italy_;
you might next forward to me those of Egypt in their turn. They are
both real treasures for the learned world and for history, quite
foreign to the politics of the present day, and consequently not
liable to any objection. I have written to London to convey the
Countess Bertrand’s thanks for the friendly recollections that were so
kindly expressed towards her, and the amiable attentions that were
shewn to her children. If I had had it in my power to remain in
England, I should have endeavoured to find out upon the spot some
articles that I might have thought acceptable to the ladies. At this
distance I can command nothing beyond my good wishes; they are very
sincere towards them and towards you all, my dear companions. The
fatal rock is ever impressed upon my heart.

I am still far from being well: my headaches are daily increasing; the
physicians are at a loss to give an opinion upon the subject. May God
be pleased to preserve my health, for the service and benefit of those
who are dearest to my heart. I embrace you all affectionately. Take
care of yourselves, and may you enjoy good health; it will be my
reward, and the reward of your friends, who love you as I do.

                                                   COUNT DE LAS CASES.

            THIRD LETTER FROM COUNT DE LAS CASES TO GENERAL
                            COUNT BERTRAND.

                                          _Frankfort, March 15, 1818._

I experience a certain pleasure, my dear General, in writing my third
letter to you, from the thought that my first must now be very near
reaching you. I hope my second is already on its way to St. Helena,
although I am not fortunate enough to be certain of it. A great many
publications were to be sent on at the same time, and I am going to
transmit a note of some others to be sent with the present letter.

I have just heard from my wife, who is on the point of quitting Paris
to come with my children and reside with me. She informs me that she
had seen the family of General Gourgaud, and had given to them all the
details which she had heard from me concerning himself and your
establishment at Longwood. His mother and his sister are both very
well, and send him the assurance of their most affectionate love and
good wishes. Your family, Grand Marshal, was in one of the provinces,
and for some time past no news had been received from them. With
respect to the family of Count Montholon, Madame de Las Cases has not
been fortunate enough to meet with anybody belonging to it. I hope to
be able in my next letter to speak of your friends, notwithstanding
they are away from the capital.

All the members of the Emperor’s family are quite well. I have heard
of every one of them since my last, and shall hear every month, so as
to be able to transmit regular information to you. They all follow him
with their good wishes, and live only for him. Most of them had been
hitherto entirely deprived of any information respecting him, and the
little that I have been enabled to give has therefore proved most
valuable and dear to them. To satisfy their interest and their
affection, which are both natural, I shall request the British
Government, when they receive news from St. Helena, to allow me to
receive the intelligence of the state of the Emperor’s health; it is a
favour which I shall request in the name of a numerous family, and I
hope it will not be refused to the sentiment which dictates it.

Prince Jerome has done me the honour to inform me that the conditions
attached to the permission of corresponding with his august brother,
and his profound veneration for him whom he acknowledges as his second
father, have alone prevented him from having the happiness of writing
to him, and laying his existence at his feet. If the situation of the
Emperor be not improved next year, he proposes to ask permission of
the British Government to go to St. Helena, with his wife and his son,
supposing that such a voyage could not be opposed by any reasonable
objection. The Queen his wife, to whom nothing is foreign that is
noble and elevated, is inspired with the same sentiments, and
expresses the same wishes.

Cardinal Fesch also writes to me in the name of Madame and in his own,
requesting me to observe that, being the only two whose attention is
not divided by individual ties, arising out of the consideration of a
family, and the fear of exposing it to inconveniences, I must apply to
them in preference for every thing that can contribute to alleviate in
any way the horrible situation of the Emperor.

Countess Survilliers, whom I have the honour of seeing very
frequently, and whose wishes are incessantly turned towards St.
Helena, is in a very indifferent state of health. She suffers very
much, and even occasions some uneasiness. The princesses her daughters
are quite well.

I have just received, at last, my papers which had been seized in the
Thames. They have reached me after four months of useless rambling and
of daily privation to me. Fatality alone can have occasioned the
delay, for they have been returned to me unopened.

I long very much to hear from you, and to receive your commissions.
Unfortunately, the distance is so great, and the communications are so
irregular, that I shall have yet to write for some time. Ask me for
every thing you want; until then I am reduced to guess. You will soon
receive that part of the Moniteur which you have not. I write this day
on the subject.

I have at last received a letter from my agent in London. He informs
me that he has honoured my bills, which I am happy to hear. But he
also informs me that he has received besides from you two other bills,
which he has been under the necessity of refusing, for want of advice
or authority from me. I am sorry for this. Since I have left you, I
had not been able to communicate with him. I have immediately answered
his letter, directing him to remedy the evil as far as it lies in his
power. He does not however give me any particulars respecting those
bills.

My health is still as indifferent as ever, not to say much worse. I am
quite disheartened by it, and the more so, as the season is getting
very fine, and this circumstance does not however produce any
beneficial change to me. That is the reason why I remain at Frankfort,
being placed in the centre of a great number of mineral springs, to
which the physicians intend to send me.

Receive for yourself, Grand Marshal, and for my dear companions, the
expression of my wishes and of all my sentiments. The colony of
Longwood occupies and fills every moment of my existence. Take care of
yourselves. Such is the wish of those who love you. I daily hear it
expressed for you all. There are in this place or in the
neighbourhood, several of the exiles; some were particular
acquaintances of yours. They love and venerate you.

                                                 COUNT DE LAS CASES.

             FOURTH LETTER FROM COUNT LAS CASES TO GENERAL
                            COUNT BERTRAND.

                                        _Frankfort, 15th April, 1818._

Madame Las Cases has continued her inquiries respecting your family
and that of the gentlemen. I have myself written direct. My letters
have been returned to me by a _valet de chambre_. I have learned that
your family were well and undisturbed. The sister of General Gourgaud
has written me a very agreeable letter, full of tenderness for her
brother. As to my third attempt, though repeated, it produced only
absolute silence, You will find, M. Grand Marshal, my details very
barren. It is not my fault: I write to you every thing I can. You will
do wrong to judge, by my want of matter, of all my cares and incessant
exertions.

I continue to receive news of all the members of the family of the
Emperor. They are all well in health. His son continues a fine boy.
The Empress, they write me, is very thin. I have lately seen a person
of the household of the Princess Murat. He was specially charged to
describe to me her tender solicitude for her august brother, her
devotion and her wishes. I have received a letter from the Princess
Eliza, full of the same sentiments. They all live only to think of him
who is so dear to them, who loaded them with kindnesses, and now
engrosses all their affections. The Princess Eliza resides at Trieste.
She informs me that she has written five times to St. Helena. The
Cardinal writes to me, on his part, that they have written very often
from Rome. I have received an answer from London to the request which
I made, and of which I informed you in my last, for leave for Prince
Lucien to visit his august brother. The answer has not appeared
sufficiently explicit for me to send it to you before I have a new
explanation.—Prince Jerome, who talked of making a like attempt next
year, has not been able to postpone for so long a time a step, the
success of which would delight his heart. He is going to address
himself to the Prince Regent, for permission for himself; his wife and
son, to undertake the voyage immediately.

The Cardinal has given me a very full account of all the members of
the family settled at Rome. The Princess Hortense enjoys tranquillity
at Augsburg, where she is occasionally visited by her brother. She is
occupied with the education of her second son. She has had the eldest
with her several months, who has developed, during his short visit,
all the qualities which honour, attach, and interest. He has returned
to Rome to his father, who is settled in that city. I hope that my
first letter has reached you before this; and I reckon the days and
hours that will bring me your answer, because then I shall know more
particularly what I can do to be agreeable to each of you. Be assured
that I and mine only live for this; and that death itself could not
interrupt the course of my efforts for that purpose. I shall have
provided a successor. Let me then know all your wishes. Nothing will
be impossible to my zeal, to the affection and devotion of those who
assist me.

I have received a very polite answer from London respecting all the
articles which I desired to be sent to your address. I am assured that
the several pamphlets, which I mentioned, are about to be sent off. I
am told that the _Morning Chronicle_, the _Journal du Commerce_, and
that of Paris, which they say is the best, have been ordered for you.
As for the rest, upon this point, as upon every other, write to me
your wishes. Tell me every thing that may give pleasure to the
establishment.

As to provisions, wine, coffee, oil, &c. which I mentioned in my
letter, I am answered that a considerable supply, and of the best
quality had been dispatched to you: the list has been sent me. It is
added, Lord Holland had sent a quantity, at the request of the
Princess Borghese: an invoice of that also has been sent me.

My health, unfortunately, is still very deplorable: I see no
amendment. The physicians insist that I shall entirely abstain from
business.—I am going to take the waters somewhere. I shall most
probably inform you, in my next, of my departure from Frankfort. I
have had an opportunity of seeing here several of the exiles, who have
found a temporary refuge in this city or its vicinity. They flatter
themselves daily with their speedy recal. Public opinion demands it,
they are told. It is thought that about the end of the year all the
French will be at liberty to reside in France. I have, however,
myself, been a stranger to the severity exercised towards them. Madame
Las Cases, on her return to Paris, received from old friends a great
deal of advice, and many offers on my account. They pressed forward in
the most obliging manner to offer their services and their influence;
but she has constantly answered that in reality I wanted no
assistance, and it was not my intention moreover to put the kindness
of any one to the test; that I had voluntarily banished myself for a
holy and religious ministry; and in fact I shall no more have a
country, Monsieur Grand Marshal, as long as you shall be where you
are, and there shall remain a single chance that my efforts, my
devotion, and my zeal, may be able to afford you any useful or
agreeable consolation—until then I shall be a wanderer in the world. I
shall carry about every where, if it must be, my atmosphere of sorrow
and zeal. On your part, keep me in your remembrance; give me the
consolation of imagining that our thoughts cross each other, and
sometimes are interchanged. Patience and courage are the virtues of
heroes. Who knows better than I that they belong to you all? Adieu—I
embrace you.

                                                 COUNT DE LAS CASES.

              FIFTH LETTER FROM COUNT LAS CASES TO GENERAL
                            COUNT BERTRAND.

                             _Frankfort on the Maine, 15th May, 1818._

I would write to you this day, my dear Bertrand, merely to be punctual
and faithful to the date which I have invariably prescribed to myself,
every month, for giving news of me. No change having taken place in my
situation, I could only repeat, word for word, the matter contained in
my last. I hoped to have been able to send you my letter from another
place; but a severe complaint in my eyes, which has come to aggravate
my other afflictions, has hitherto prevented me from setting out for
some of the warm baths in the south of Germany, to which I shall
repair, however, in a few days.

I have the satisfaction to learn that my preceding letters have been
regularly despatched to you, and that a great many pamphlets have been
sent off. I wish they may amuse you. Unfortunately I provide for you a
little in the dark;—the circumstances of locality will be my excuse; I
do my best; I am in a bad situation for that. Such a case as mine
would require a capital.—I am not permitted to reside in London; and
in Paris I could not accomplish my purpose. The same distance prevents
me from thinking of sending you a great many little things with which
I might employ myself if I were upon the spot. I had thought of
completing for you a little chemical apparatus, but renounced it. I
understand that it would be useless to you.

All the relatives of the Emperor are well, and await with impatience
the regular course of your letters, of which they entertain no doubt,
as you will have received my first, with my invariable resolution to
send you theirs every month punctually.—My wife will rejoin me in a
few days, to part no more, I hope.

Adieu, accept my wishes.

                                                      COUNT LAS CASES.

              LETTER FROM COUNT LAS CASES TO MR. GOULBURN,
                    ENCLOSING TO HIM THE PRECEDING.

                             _Frankfort on the Maine, 19th May, 1818._

I have the honour to thank you for the kindness with which you have
been pleased to inform me of the departure of my letters for St.
Helena, as also of that of the pamphlets and journals with which you
have been pleased to accompany them.

I am sorry you should have found it necessary to preserve silence,
upon certain points in my last letter. My discretion will know how to
interpret that silence. I owe it to the personal kindness which you
have hitherto shewn me, not to return to the subject any more. I have
written to the Cardinal Fesch, agreeably to a passage in your letter,
that he may send, by the way he shall think most proper, the sequel of
the Moniteur, reckoning from 1808, addressed to the office of Lord
Bathurst in London; and that his Lordship allows their transmission to
St. Helena.

As to the passage of your letter, Sir, concerning the request which I
had the honour to make to you, for a regular bulletin of the health of
Napoleon, in the name, and on the behalf of the members of his family,
may I be permitted to pray you will observe to my Lord Bathurst that
the whole of the family of the Emperor are not at Rome; that he has
one sister and her family at Frankfort; a brother and his family in
Austria; two other sisters and their families in the vicinity of
Vienna and Trieste; without reckoning others, all of whom would esteem
it the greatest favour, and would consider it a real gratification to
their heart, should the sentiments which induced Lord Bathurst to send
regular accounts to Rome, induce him condescendingly to allow of their
being regularly transmitted to them also. I was not ignorant of the
gratification which had been hitherto procured for the Princess
Borghese; but it did not extend from Rome to all the members of the
family in Germany, where the route was then much more circuitous than
that which I had the honour to request. Whatsoever title and right my
heart might give me, perhaps, to solicit for myself a participation in
this bulletin, I shall learn to renounce entirely and put myself
completely aside; and not doubting but that the favour will be more
highly appreciated by those for whom I solicit it, if it should come
directly from Lord Bathurst, rather than pass through my hands, I
shall solicit therefore anew, and in the name of the Countess of
Survilliers (the Princess Joseph Bonaparte), who resides in this city,
that he will have the goodness to send to her regularly the same
accounts which he has the goodness to address to the Princess Borghese
at Rome. The Countess of Survilliers will undertake to communicate
them to all the family in Germany.

Sir, I have learned, from the public journals, the unexpected return
of General Gourgaud. This sensible diminution of the household of
Napoleon, this new privation of one servant more, penetrates my heart,
and has determined me to pray that you will please to request of Lord
Bathurst to allow me to return to St. Helena, accompanied by my
family. This intention and this desire will never forsake me, as his
Lordship may convince himself by the whole of my correspondence with
Sir Hudson Lowe, from the moment of my quitting the colony. I do not
think it would be necessary to demand the previous consent of the
Emperor Napoleon to this request, because I dare flatter myself that
his answer would not be doubtful. However, if Lord Bathurst should
deem it necessary, I entreat his Lordship to make the application
himself: he will see that in my letter to Longwood I have abstained
from mentioning this circumstance. Considerations of delicacy, which
his Lordship will know how to appreciate, have restrained me. The
deplorable state of my health will be no obstacle. I am ambitious to
go and find a grave at the feet of him whom I venerate, and to whose
cares I shall find it sweet to consecrate my latest breath.

Accept, Sir, the expressions of the perfect consideration, &c.

                                                      COUNT LAS CASES.

I lost not a moment, on the receipt of the documents sent by Count
Bertrand, in despatching a copy of them to each of the Sovereigns at
Aix-la-Chapelle. I took this opportunity to renew my entreaties. I
implored them to succour the illustrious victim. “A few days more,”
said I, “and it will be too late.” The physician whom they had
snatched away from him (an Englishman,) declared publicly in London
that a much longer residence upon that unwholesome rock would cause
his death. I ventured to represent to them that their humanity, the
sentiments of their hearts, might be arrested perhaps by formal
denials, but would not their justice listen to the other side of the
question? I demanded that I might be allowed to furnish them with it,
I solicited the sole favour of being heard in behalf of this sacred
cause; “consenting,” I said, “if I did not prove the truth of the
documents laid at their feet, that my shame and my blood should
expiate my offence in having dared to impose upon them.”—At the same
time I did not lose one opportunity, one instant, one thought, which
might have multiplied the chances of any success. I addressed myself
to every one, who, I learned, had any influence over the hearts of the
Monarchs. I wrote particularly to M. de la Harpe, the tutor of the
Emperor Alexander, so well known, so venerated, who, I had been told,
was at that moment with him at Aix-la-Chapelle.

Neither upon this occasion, nor any other, have I ever had the
slightest answer to any one of my letters; and if any thing has been
sometimes insinuated to me indirectly and with mystery, I was obliged
to suspect it as a snare laid against my person, which was of small
moment; or against my cause, which was every thing to me. Thus the
Congress ended, and not a word escaped from it in favour of Napoleon.
In fine, I sought to stimulate even foreign talents; and in the number
of voices then raised, the pamphlet of a certain German journalist
attracted sufficient attention to serve for a pretext to devise
trammels for the liberty of the press.

However, all the efforts which I had called forth were vain, all my
hopes were blasted, all my pains were thrown away—they left him to
die! In fact, what could the naked Truth avail with sovereigns,
without the protection of any address, or the alliance of any
interests, against the insinuations of wicked men, who watched with
all the ardour of political fanaticism, private resentment, and
prospective apprehensions! They acted so effectually that in the
council of kings, fear, no doubt, prevailed over generosity. They
demonstrated how dangerous universal interest rendered the victim: and
it may be truly said, to the glory of generous sentiments, that public
opinion was pronounced every where with great warmth; not less in
Germany, than in any other country. And perhaps, in the sight of the
high personages who were witnesses of it, this favourable opinion did
a great deal of mischief to him whom it meant to serve; as if it had
been in the destiny of Napoleon that the interest of the Germans
should become as baneful to him in adversity, as their animosity had
been fatal to him in the time of his power.—Amongst the efforts to
maintain the hideous captivity of Napoleon, there has been actually
imputed to the English Ministers a base intrigue, an unworthy
deception. It was said that, to confirm the wavering Sovereigns, they
had forged, for the express purpose, a pretended plot of escape. The
imputation was founded upon the timeliness, the éclat, and publicity,
with which the arrival of the Musquito brig suddenly caused this news
to spread through all Europe; a circumstance, which, after it had once
produced the intended effect, that of counterbalancing the public
favour, gave room to no further mention, to no detail, to no
confirmation whatsoever; an imaginary conjecture, no doubt, and in
which the English Ministers are probably culpable, only in having
afforded ground for suspecting them of it by the numerous antecedent
cases, in which they degraded themselves in acting against Napoleon.

To my chagrin was added the fear of seeing old persecutions revived
against me, in my peaceful solitude. The spring of 1819 was
approaching. The excellent Grand Duke of Baden was just dead. Those
who did not like us became stronger by this event, and it was
signified to me, without the knowledge of the new sovereign perhaps,
that I must quit the States of Baden. The order was given to me only
verbally, and I was even informed that I should receive it in no other
way. The motive for my removal, it was said, was the desire to live in
close friendship with France, and the fear that my stay would be
disagreeable to her; a motive that must excite a smile of pity. I
disdained to say that the French Minister had thought fit to leave me
in repose; the intolerance of opinion had discovered another motive to
the full as ridiculous. The person charged with the order against me
was very willing to grant me some days for preparation, but I was
nearly like the Greek philosopher, who carried his all upon his own
person; and I would have set out at the very instant of the
notification itself, if Madame Las Cases had not been afflicted with
an inflammation of the lungs which placed her in great danger. I
assured him that I should only allow myself time to see her out of
danger; and although the well-meant advice was given me to solicit
Government for permission to remain, I still disdained it; and a few
days afterwards, I set out on my route for Offenbach, where Madame Las
Cases was to join me, when she should be in a state to travel.

If I felt myself so much hurt by this unexpected treatment, it is
because I had already forgotten all the vexations with which I had
been overwhelmed by the English authorities, and for more than a year,
during which I lived upon the German soil, I was not subjected to such
forms; but, on the contrary, I was spoiled by the favour, the
interest, the respect, of which I every where saw myself the object,
even among those of a contrary opinion; and, besides, on leaving
Manheim, I was far from being embarrassed for a new residence. Some
friends, in their kind precautions, had sounded some neighbouring
governments; I was assured of a favourable reception in several. One
of the princes, addressed upon the occasion, answered, with a smile,
“Yes, no doubt; he should be well received and well treated. So far
from repulsing a man of this character, a prince who understands his
own interest should have his courtiers inoculated from him.”

However, in expatiating here so freely upon my successes, I must not
disguise my disappointments. Now and then I had also my little
mortifications. All was not roses: and, without reckoning the
expulsion from Manheim, for example, of which I was speaking, they
found great fault, in another place, with the respect shewn to me,
being, they said, one of those wretches who had arrested the King of
France at Varennes; and who more lately had done, perhaps, still
worse. In another place, a Baron who gave a grand evening party,
informed his guests that he had at length ascertained who this Count
and Councillor of Napoleon’s was whose arrival had made so great a
noise in the city. He was, he informed them, nothing but his cook from
St. Helena; and that, not having means to pay him his wages at
parting, he had, as a compensation, created him a Count and Councillor
of State. If the Baron believed what he said, he was assuredly a good
easy man, and if his object was only to make his guests believe it, he
must have taken them for great simpletons. The pleasant part of the
story remains, for we must tell the whole; and it is that, in fact,
the cook from Longwood had passed through a few days before: and thus
it appears how anecdotes and the biographies of the saloon are
engendered and multiply; and the devil himself cannot afterwards
eradicate them. I could smile at the wickedness or the stupidity.
Their acts and their words were only ridiculous and grotesque; but a
circumstance of an important nature presented itself, which would have
distressed me excessively, if I did not know how much the mass of
error which presses round sovereigns may impair the soundness of their
judgment.

I was assured that some one at the Congress of Aix-la-Chapelle,
finding himself disposed, in the presence of the Emperor Alexander, to
touch upon the frightful situation of Napoleon, and citing the
authentic statements produced by me in his support, that Prince
answered, “We must not believe all that this man is come to tell us in
Europe; he is an intriguer.” How is it that the most enlightened
princes are deceived; even those from whom we should expect better?
Unless it was here, as with Napoleon, who often used peevish
expressions, after his own manner, and not implying harm; and besides,
by good fortune, I have still on my side, time, that true crucible of
characters. Years have since elapsed, and the unanimous opinion, I
dare hope, of all those who have known or followed me, would
sufficiently clear me from such an accusation. “An intriguer!” I, who
have worn out upon a rock all the vanities of this world! I, who in
the clouds of Longwood, have seen all things from so great a height,
that they remain small indeed to my eyes! I, who of all people on
earth, know nothing to desire! I, in fine, who, no longer considering
myself of this world, cannot have, and have not in fact, any other
ambition whatever, any other wish, than that of Diogenes—“that they
would not stand between me and the sun.”

                                -------

                  FROM MY ARRIVAL AT OFFENBACH, UP TO
                          MY RETURN TO FRANCE.

                                -------

                   A Space of more than Two Years.

                                -------

RESIDENCE AT OFFENBACH.—DETAIL.—ARRIVAL OF MADAME MONTHOLON
  IN EUROPE.—JOURNEY TO BRUSSELS.—RESIDENCE AT LIEGE, AT
  CHAUDE-FONTAINE, AT SOHAN, NEAR SPA, AT ANTWERP, AT MALINES.—DEATH
  OF NAPOLEON.—RETURN TO FRANCE.—CONCLUSION.

Offenbach is a handsome little town in the Grand-Duchy of Darmstadt,
situate upon the Maine, two leagues from Frankfort. I settled myself
there, according to my custom, in a sort of little hermitage. It was
upon the bank of the river, within a step of the town.

My head-aches, under their different symptoms, had never quitted me.
At Manheim I suffered very acute pains. A short time after my arrival
at Offenbach, my illness suddenly assumed a character new,
insupportable, and alarming. It was then that a universal
indisposition, an increasing debility, commenced, which, preventing
the employment of the faculties, brought with them a complete disgust
of life; then also commenced that sudden trembling in my limbs and in
my whole frame: those sudden visits of dimness of sight, which I might
call the twinkling of existence. How often in this state, and without
taking any notice of it, have I gone to bed with the thought, I had
almost said the hope, of awaking no more. Madame Las Cases, in the
excess of her anxiety, wished that I should give up every kind of
occupation whatever, of which, in fact, I was absolutely incapable;
she suppressed my letters, and wrote to the relatives of the Emperor,
to apprize them of my real situation, and to prevail upon them to
appoint a successor to me in the cares which I had created for myself.
For a long time past, as a precaution, I myself had entreated them to
join with me a person whose happiness it would have constituted, and
the choice of whom would have been agreeable to the Emperor.[44] He
was then with one of them; but, from one cause or another, this was
not done, and necessity compelled me to break off without any
provision having been made to supply the deficiency. I exhausted in
vain all the aid of medicine; and, if the domestic cares, the tender
solicitude, which surrounded me on every side, could have availed, my
illness would have been only a blessing, from the pleasure of seeing
them lavished upon me. One loves to dwell upon that which was sweet,
and I could not assuredly better describe the great interest felt for
me, and the nature of the recompense which the sentiments I had shewn,
the efforts I had made, had obtained for me, than when I say my little
hermitage has been honoured with the presence of three Queens, and, I
think, on the same day. Two of them, it is true, had been deposed; but
they did not the less command every where at that moment, by the
elevation of their minds, the simplicity of their manners, the _éclat_
of their other qualities, a universal respect, at least, as much as at
the era of their greatest splendour.

Footnote 44:

  Colonel Planat, who had accompanied us as far as Plymouth, and who
  had lately obtained leave to repair to St. Helena himself.

It was at Offenbach that the little colony, which Cardinal Fesch sent
to St. Helena, was addressed to me on its way to that place. It
consisted of a chaplain, a surgeon, a physician, and a valet de
chambre; all chosen by the Cardinal. On my arrival in Europe, I had
written to him, to be assured that to send a priest, capable also of
writing to dictation, and of assisting a little in business, would be
very agreeable to the Emperor; and I had employed his mediation to
interest, for that purpose, the conscience of the Holy Father, who, in
fact, demanded it of the English Ministers, who had hitherto opposed
the measure, or attached to it inadmissible conditions. It was also
from Offenbach, that I despatched to Longwood two charming portraits:
one, the young Napoleon, painted from the life in the same year, and
sent by King Jerome; the other that of the Empress Josephine, by Sain,
a present from the Queen Hortense. It was mounted in a magnificent
tea-caddy, of crystal. This choice of crystal was a delicate
precaution of the Queen’s, who also had the mounting executed in such
a manner as to render it impossible to suspect any concealed writing.
The former of these two portraits reached its destination. The valet
de chambre of the Emperor has since told me, that Napoleon, on
perceiving it, seized it with avidity and kissed it. I, who know how
reserved the Emperor was, can judge from this circumstance the whole
extent of his joy and satisfaction. As to the portrait of the Empress
Josephine, it never arrived at Longwood, although, by a singular
contrariety, it was found, in consequence of some memorandum, to have
paid the custom-house duty on its importation into England.

Towards the end of the summer, Madame Las Cases, by order of the
physicians, carried me to the waters of Schwalbach, where I was an
object of pity to every one. I returned without having derived any
benefit from them; but a circumstance then revived my strength for an
instant, and caused me to quit Germany.

All of a sudden, I learnt from the public papers the return of Madame
Montholon to Europe; she had been, like myself, repulsed from England,
and landed at Ostend. I was not able to resist going to seek authentic
details, of which I had so long been deprived. I hastened to rejoin
her, whether she should be permitted to stay in the country, or should
be forced, after my example, to run up and down the highways, for in
that case I should be useful to her; I had had experience.

Travelling with mystery, for I remembered too well all the ill
treatment I formerly received in the Netherlands, I joined the
Countess of Montholon at Brussels. Not only was she at liberty to
reside there, but she had been received with the most particular
respect; and a journal of the place having announced that she would be
obliged to continue her route, a semi-official article refuted this
news, upon this ground, especially, that the Netherlands was the _land
of hospitality_. I wanted no more; Belgium appeared to me nearly as
France; in the midst of the Belgians, I should think myself among my
countrymen. I wrote, therefore, to Madame Las Cases to acquaint her
with our good fortune, and desiring that she might hasten to come and
join me. Shunning Brussels, for the same reasons which had made me
leave Frankfort, I chose Liege; remembering the kind reception which I
had there experienced, at the time of my unfortunate passage, eighteen
months before; and I settled there, not without apprehension of some
new ill luck. But I was wrong; for I must with truth and gratitude say
that, during nearly two years and a half that I have since traversed
the country in all directions, without any request, any solicitation,
not even a previous announcement, that country, formerly so baneful to
me, has ever since been the land of hospitality; never having
afterwards had occasion to perceive any authority whatever, otherwise
than by the tranquillity, the repose, which I enjoyed under its shade.

Influence and foreign malice had ceased; it was at this time that my
son requested leave, anew, and on his own account, to return to
Longwood. I have the answer of Lord Bathurst, who refused it.
Subsequently, the Princess Pauline, who succeeded in obtaining leave
to repair thither, wrote to me to know if my son wished to accompany
her: but then, alas! it was too late.

Neither the affection nor the care of my friends at Liege, where I
remained the whole winter; nor the rural situation of Chaude-Fontaine,
where I spent the spring; nor the generous hospitality of the worthy
and excellent proprietor of that charming spot Justlanville, who
forced me to accept for the summer, at a few steps from him, the
residence called Johan, at the gates of Spa and of Verviers; nor the
benevolence of all his family, so numerous, so kind, so respected in
the country; were able to ameliorate my condition, or fix my stay. Yet
it would be difficult for me to describe, as they deserve, the extreme
kindness, the touching dispositions, the sympathetic spirit, of the
whole population of these countries, so prosperous, so rich, so
flourishing, under the imperial reign, and which continues so
grateful.

I spent my second winter at Antwerp, with some sincere friends whom I
tenderly love, and whom my arrival on the expedition to Flushing, ten
years before, had procured for me; and in the spring I reached
Malines, without any particular motive; for I was not able to remain a
long time in the same place. I stood in need of change. I was the
patient who tosses and turns in his bed, seeking in vain the sweets of
sleep. Twice, during the two years in Belgium, Madame Las Cases wished
to take me to the south; and twice, at the very moment of setting out,
imperative circumstances happened to stop us:—disappointments,
however, which were to us so many real favours of fortune. But for the
first of them, we should have found ourselves advanced a day’s journey
within the frontier, at the very moment of a fatal and sanguinary
catastrophe; and, but for the second, we should have arrived at Nice
precisely at the moment of the constitutional explosion in Piedmont;
and no doubt that, in both cases, and naturally enough, we should have
been subjected to at least temporary inconvenience.

Meanwhile the Congress of Laybach was held, and I could not refrain
from attempting new solicitations. I addressed a new letter to each of
the three high Sovereigns. The following is that to the Emperor
Alexander:—

“SIRE,—A new and solemn occasion presents itself for preferring to
your Majesty my humble and respectful accents. I seize it anew with
eagerness.

“I am not afraid of rendering myself importunate: my excuse and my
pardon are in the generosity of your soul.

“Sire, to recal, at this moment, to your recollection, and to that of
your high Allies, the august captive, whom you, a long time, called
your brother and your friend; to seek to divert your thoughts and
theirs to that victim whose cruel suffering is always present to me;
this is, I know it, to make the knell of death heard amidst joy and
feasting. But therein, Sire, I trust that, even in the eyes of your
Majesty, I fulfil an honourable and pious duty, the performance of
which must remain always sweet to me, however perilous it may be!

“Sire,—reduced to a state of infirmity and weakness which leaves me
scarcely able to connect a few ideas, I follow the instinct of my
heart in default of the faculties of my head, in merely repeating
literally here to your Majesty the note which I presumed to address to
you at Aix-la-Chapelle; for, the circumstances having remained the
same, no change having since taken place in that respect, what could I
do better than to place under the eyes of your Majesty the same
picture, the same facts, the same reasoning, the same truths.

“Only if, in spite of that which I then thought was certain, the
illustrious victim, contrary to my expectation and that of the
faculty, still breathes; if he has not yet fallen, I shall dare to
observe to your Majesty that this unexpected prolongation of his life,
which has been to him only a continuation of torment, is perhaps, to
your Majesty, a blessing from heaven, which Providence reserves for
your heart and for your memory.... Ah! Sire, there is then time
still!... But the precious opportunity may every moment escape from
_all your power_!... And what would be then the tardy, impotent
regrets which could neither appease your heart, nor restore to your
memory an act magnanimous, generous—a glory of a nature the most
soothing, the most moral, the most commendable in the eyes of
posterity, the best understood, perhaps, with which you could have
embellished your glorious life? I mean oblivion of injuries, disdain
of vengeance, remembrance of old friendship; in fine, the respect due
to royal majesty—to _one of the Lord’s anointed_!!!

“Sire,—since my return to Europe, separated from the society of men, a
prey to hopeless sufferings originating in St. Helena itself,
belonging for the future and unalterably much more to another life
than to this, I ardently raise every day in my retreat my hands to the
Almighty, praying that he will deign to touch the heart of your
Majesty, and to enlighten it upon so essential a part of its interests
and its glory.

                                                  “I am, &c.

                                           “COUNT DE LAS CASES.”[45]

Footnote 45:

  A similar letter was addressed to the other Allied Sovereigns, with
  slight appropriate alterations.

How prophetic were many of these lines! Alas, they were scarcely
before the eyes of the monarchs when he was no more!—He had ceased to
live, to suffer!—On opening the Moniteur, I found there the fatal
announcement. Though it could not surprise me, having been a long time
certain to my understanding, I was not the less struck, overcome as at
an unexpected event that was never to happen.

The next day I received a melancholy letter from London with
circumstantial details, and conjectures for which these details might
furnish matter; and this letter concluded by saying, “It was on the
fifth of May, at six o’clock in the evening, at the very instant when
the gun was firing at sunset, that his great soul quitted the earth.”

How strange the coincidences that sometimes happen!—When about the
person of Napoleon, and under his influence, I had contracted the
habit of keeping a diary, and he frequently expressed his regret that
he had not done the same. “A line to assist the memory,” said he,
“merely two or three indicatory words.” I had continued this practice
ever since; and, as it may easily be imagined, I hastened to turn to
the fifth of May, to see where I was, what I had been doing, and what
had happened to me at that fatal moment. And what should I
find?—_Sudden storm; shelter under a shed; awful clap of thunder._
Taking a ride, towards evening, in the country beyond Malines, the
weather being delightful, there came on suddenly one of those summer
storms, of such violence that I was obliged to seek shelter on
horseback beneath a shed; and while in this situation there was a
thunder-clap so tremendous that it seemed to be close to me. Alas! and
what was passing elsewhere, at such a distance, at the same
moment!—The circumstance may perhaps appear more than strange, but no
doubt there are at Malines, or in its environs, naturalists or
meteorologists who keep an account of the weather: it is for them to
confirm or to contradict my statement.

  THE DEATH OF NAPOLEON.

  London: Published for Henry Colburn, March, 1836.
]

On the report of the death of Napoleon, it must, however, be said,
that there was but one single cry, one selfsame sentiment in the
streets, in the shops, in the public places; even the saloons shewed
some feeling: the cabinets alone shewed themselves insensible, worse
than insensible! But, after all, it was natural, they breathed, at
length, at their ease....

During his life, in the time of his power, he had been assailed with
pamphlets and libels; on his death, we were suddenly inundated with
productions in his praise—a contrast, nevertheless, that gives a
little relief from so much meanness of the human heart. There were
every where, and from all parts, compositions in prose and in verse,
paintings, portraits, pictures, lithographs, and a thousand little
things more or less ingenious, proving much better than all the pomp
of kings could do the sincerity, the extent, the vivacity of the
sentiments which he left behind him. A clergyman on the banks of the
Rhine, the place of whose residence had received some particular
favour from the Emperor, assembled his parishioners, and made them
pray for their old benefactor. In a large city of Belgium, a great
number of citizens subscribed for a solemn funeral service, and if
they abstained from the performance of it, it was much more from
etiquette than in consequence of any interdict. Then these words of
Napoleon, which I have often heard him repeat, were verified:—“In the
course of time, nothing will be thought so fine, or strike the
attention so much, as the doing of justice to me.... I shall gain
ground every day in the minds of the people. My name will become the
star of their rights; it will be the expression of their regrets.” And
all these circumstances are verified in every country and every where.
Without reckoning things of this kind, of which I am no doubt unaware,
a peer of Great Britain shortly after said in open Parliament, “That
the very persons who detested this great man have acknowledged that
for ten centuries there had not appeared upon earth a more
extraordinary character. All Europe,” added he, “has worn mourning for
the hero; and those who have contributed to that great sacrifice are
devoted to the execrations of the present generation as well as to
those of posterity.”[46]

Footnote 46:

  Speech of Lord Holland. _Pilot_ of the 3rd of August, 1822.

Two German professors, who either had always known his real character,
or had been cured of their national prejudices, have erected upon
their grounds a monument to his memory, with some inscriptions,
indicating that, with him, fell a funereal veil over the rights of the
people, and the ascendant impulse of civilization.

Our writers have defended his memory, our poets have celebrated it,
and our orators, in the legislative tribunal, have proclaimed aloud
the attachment which they had felt for him, or that they are honoured
by the distinctions which they had received from him.

Nothing now remained for me but to return to my country. In crossing
the frontier, at the end of the second emigration, I could not avoid
thinking of the circumstances of my return after the first, and what a
difference of sentiment distinguished them! Then I seemed, at every
step, to advance amidst a hostile population; now I felt as if I was
entering into my family. I soon beheld again all my companions of
Longwood, and, while embracing them, I could not deny myself one
melancholy reflection—we were all met again; but he for whom we had
sought the fatal rock, he alone remained there! I recollected that he
had told us it would be so, and many other things besides. I learned
from all these eye-witnesses the details and the circumstances of the
ill treatment which, since my departure, had been daily increasing;
and I saw that the times which I had known had not even been the most
unhappy moments.

  STATUE OF NAPOLEON
  ON THE COLUMN OF THE PLACE VENDÔME.

  London: Published for HENRY COLBURN, December, 1835.
]

I read his last will; I there found my name, three or four times, in
his own hand!—What were my emotions!—Assuredly I did not stand in need
of them for my reward. For a long time I have carried it within my
breast. But the remembrances, however, were dear and precious—how much
more precious than millions! And yet he joined to them large sums from
those of his family who were most nearly connected with him, and were
dearest to him. If they ever pay them, so much the better; that will
concern them hereafter more than me. I should have liked to consider
myself only as a kind of depository. I even wished to anticipate them,
but I found it necessary to stop: my means did not allow me to make
these advances. My happiness would have been great in affording a
retirement to a few civil and military veterans. In our long evenings,
we should have often spoken of his battles or discoursed of his heart.

At last I received (thanks to the zealous interposition of one of the
most distinguished characters of the English peerage!) the papers
which had been detained from me at St. Helena: and which, in spite of
all the power of the laws, I no longer reckoned upon. In the situation
in which I found myself, with the sentiments with which it had
inspired me, I felt myself under the indispensible obligation to
assist, since I had some means to do it, in making better known him
who had been so much misrepresented; and, in spite of my infirmity, I
set about this work. Heaven has blessed my efforts in permitting me to
reach the end, and to finish it, however ill; this I have the
happiness to do at this instant. If I have succeeded in reconciling
hearts, if I have destroyed prejudices, conquered prepossessions, I
have obtained my dearest, my sweetest object; my mission is
accomplished.

_Passy, August 15, 1823._

                              POSTSCRIPT.

I have to reproach myself for not having taken an opportunity to
relate the adventures of Santini. At the conclusion of every drama,
whatever may be its nature, one likes to meet again in the
_dénouement_ with all those who have figured in the early part of it.
Santini’s story involves moreover traits of manners, tints of the
times, a reference to public affairs, which induce me to repair my
omission, since I have it in my power to do so.

We had long given up Santini for lost, confined, dead, when all at
once he again made his appearance among us soon after the death of
Napoleon: and the following narrative is from his own lips, and nearly
in his own words.

After making his escape from England, he had traversed Belgium and
some parts of Germany, with the intelligence and address of a clever
Italian. At length, on entering Münich, he imagined that he had
overcome the grand obstacles, and was safe in port. But precisely in
that city he was apprehended, and, in spite of all his applications to
the different authorities, and to several ambassadors, in order to
obtain permission to pass quietly, he was carried back by gendarmes
into Wirtemberg, which he traversed at liberty, but under evident
_surveillance_. On reaching Lombardy, at Como, he went to declare
himself to the police: they had been expecting him there; he was
arrested and conveyed to Milan, where he was told that he could not
remain in the country, at full liberty, without serious inconvenience;
and that, in consequence, he should be conducted to Mantua, where he
would be under less restraint. Now the less restraint that was
promised him proved to be nothing better or worse than a prison, where
he was not allowed to hold communication with any person whatsoever.
Such was the importance attached to his complete seclusion that, Maria
Louisa having passed through that city, and stopped there for
twenty-four or thirty-six hours, poor Santini had for an extraordinary
companion in his room a police officer who did not suffer him to be
for a moment out of his sight, not even during meals or when he slept;
which serves to show the extreme care that was taken to prevent all
communication between Napoleon and Maria Louisa.

At length, in consequence of the disturbance and complaints which he
made in his dungeon, an order arrived to remove him to Vienna; but the
captain of the circle was required to travel in the same carriage with
him, and to conduct him by forced journeys to his new destination.

Santini, contrary to his expectation, found himself again imprisoned,
and again made a great noise; incessantly insisting on being tried,
and either shot, as he said, if he deserved it, or set at liberty if
he had not done any thing wrong. He was at last told that they had
nothing to lay to his charge, but that his entire liberty was attended
with great difficulties; that he could not be suffered to go into
every country, and he should therefore have his choice between England
and Austria. Santini replied that he would never more set foot on land
governed by the executioners of his master. He was then carried to
Brünn, the capital of Moravia, where he was obliged to take an oath to
abstain from seeking any foreign correspondence. On his arrival there,
he found himself, it is true, under a special _surveillance_; but
there, said Santini, ended his persecutions and his troubles; there
began a better condition. His captivity indeed became, he said, a
blessing, and his heart was filled with gratitude. He there found
himself an object of attention and interest: all, from the highest to
the lowest, showed him the greatest kindness. The inhabitants had
twice seen Napoleon; as an enemy it is true, and yet they felt
profound veneration for him. In this manner Santini spent, what he
called, three happy years.

It had been recommended by superior authority that a strict watch
should be kept, at Brünn in particular, to prevent Santini from
sending off any paper for the Emperor Francis. When that monarch was
going to the Congress at Troppau, he stopped at Brünn, and Santini
said that two days before, a police officer had arrived from Vienna to
watch lest he should address any thing to the Emperor. Thus the heart
of Francis was under as vigilant _surveillance_ as that of Maria
Louisa; the emotions of both were suspicious, and of course they were
much feared. All precautions, however, were vain. Santini had
interested the highest personages, and a petition from him, on the
treatment that he had experienced, reached the hands of the Sovereign.
He complained in it of his pecuniary situation, and of the privation
of liberty, and accompanied it with attestations which he had brought
from St. Helena, especially the order for the pension which Napoleon
had assigned to him. The Emperor Francis appeared to be much struck
with this order, which was signed by the Grand Marshal, and headed
“_By express order of the Emperor._” It purported that a pension of a
certain amount was granted to Santini, and that it should be paid him
by the first relatives or the first friends of the Emperor’s to whom
he should present it. “Is it not terrible?” said the Emperor Francis,
looking at it—“he is prisoner at St. Helena, and yet he continues to
give orders as if nothing had happened!” His beneficence, however, got
the better of his surprise, and whether he considered himself as a
relative, or merely followed the impulse of his kind heart, he ordered
a sum of money to be remitted to Santini; and it is a singular
circumstance, which I could not observe without a kind of emotion,
that the first two sums set down on the order for Santini’s pension,
are placed precisely against names not related to the Emperor by
blood—the Princess Stephanie of Baden and the Emperor of Austria, the
one his adopted daughter, the other his father-in-law.

                              SUPPLEMENT.

                                -------

[It has been judged desirable to subjoin a few extracts from the
celebrated Work by Dr. Antommarchi, Napoleon’s Physician, as
furnishing, in their details of the latter moments, death, and
interment of the fallen Ruler, a natural sequel to the account of what
may be called his _penultimate_ days, by the faithful Las Cases.]

                                -------

                     NAPOLEON’S RELIGIOUS NOTIONS.

At half-past one he sent for Vignali.—“Abbé,” said he, “do you know
what a _chambre-ardente_[47] is?”—“Yes, Sire.”—“Have you ever
officiated in one?”—“Never, Sire.”—“Well, you shall officiate in
mine.”—He then entered into the most minute detail on that subject,
and gave the priest his instructions, at considerable length. His face
was animated and convulsive, and I was following with uneasiness the
contraction of his features, when he observed in mine I know not what
expression which displeased him.—“You are above those weaknesses,”
said he, “but what is to be done? I am neither a philosopher nor a
physician. I believe in God, and am of the religion of my father. It
is not every body who _can_ be an Atheist.” Then turning again to the
priest—“I was born a Catholic, and will fulfil the duties prescribed
by the Catholic religion, and receive the assistance it administers.
You will say mass every day in the chapel, and will expose the holy
sacrament during forty hours. After my death, you will place your
altar at my head in the room in which I shall lie in state; you will
continue to say mass, and perform all the customary ceremonies, and
will not cease to do so until I am under ground.”

Footnote 47:

  A room in which dead bodies lie in state.

The Abbé withdrew, and I remained alone with Napoleon, who censured my
supposed incredulity. “How can you carry it so far?” said he. “Can you
not believe in God, whose existence every thing proclaims, and in whom
the greatest minds have believed?”—“But, Sire, I have never doubted
it. I was following the pulsations of the fever, and your Majesty
thought you perceived in my features an expression which they had
not.”—“You are a physician,” replied he laughing, and then added, in
an under-tone, “Those people have only to do with matter; they never
will believe any thing.”

                   HIS WISHES AS TO HIS BURIAL PLACE.

Napoleon was free from vomiting, and drank a great deal of cold water.
“If fate had decreed that I should recover, I would erect a monument
on the spot where the water flows, and would crown the fountain in
testimony of the relief it has afforded me. If I die, and my body,
proscribed as my person has been, should be denied a little earth, I
desire that my remains may be deposited in the cathedral of Ajaccio in
Corsica; and if it should not be permitted to me to rest where I was
born, let me be buried near the limpid stream of this pure water.”

                    HIS ADVICE TO THOSE AROUND HIM.

Napoleon still preserved his presence of mind, and recommended to his
executors, in case he should lose it, not to allow any other English
physicians to approach him than Doctor Arnott. “I am going to die,”
said he; “and you to return to Europe: I must give you some advice as
to the line of conduct you are to pursue. You have shared my exile;
you will be faithful to my memory, and will not do any thing that may
injure it. I have sanctioned all principles, and infused them into my
laws and acts; I have not omitted a single one. Unfortunately,
however, the circumstances in which I was placed were arduous, and I
was obliged to act with severity, and to postpone the execution of my
plans. Our reverses occurred: I could not unbend the bow; and France
has been deprived of the liberal institutions I intended to give her.
She judges me with indulgence: she feels grateful for my intentions:
she cherishes my name and my victories. Imitate her example; be
faithful to the opinions we have defended, and to the glory we have
acquired; any other course can only lead to shame and confusion.”

                               HIS DEATH.

Icy coldness of the lower extremities, and in a short time, of the
whole body—eye fixed—lips closed and contracted—violent agitation of
the nostrils—most complete adynamia[48]—pulse extremely weak and
intermittant, varying from one hundred and two to one hundred and
eight, one hundred and ten, and one hundred and twelve pulsations per
minute—breathing slow, intermittant, and stertorous—spasmodic
contraction of the epigastric region and of the stomach—deep
sighs—piteous moans—convulsive movements, which ended by a loud and
dismal shriek. I placed a blister on the chest, and one on each thigh;
applied two large sinapisms on the soles of the feet, and fomentations
on the abdomen, with a bottle filled with hot water: I also
endeavoured to refresh the Emperor’s lips and mouth by constantly
moistening them with a mixture of common water, orange-flower water,
and sugar; but the passage was spasmodically closed; nothing was
swallowed; all was in vain. The intermittent breathing and mournful
sound still continued, accompanied by a violent agitation, of the
abdominal muscles: the eyelids remained fixed, the eyes moved and fell
back under the upper lids; the pulse sunk and rallied again.—It was
eleven minutes before six o’clock—Napoleon was about to breathe his
last!—a slight froth covered his lips—he was no more!—Such is the end
of all human glory!

Footnote 48:

  Weakness.

                ARRANGEMENTS RESPECTING THE CORPSE, &C.

It had not been possible, for want of the necessary materials, to
embalm the body, the whiteness of which was really extraordinary. It
was deposited upon one of the small tent-beds, furnished with white
curtains as funeral hangings!!! The cloak of blue cloth which Napoleon
had worn at the battle of Marengo served to cover him. The feet and
hands were exposed to view; at his right side was his sword, and on
his chest a crucifix. At some distance from the body was the silver
vase in which I had been obliged to deposit his heart and stomach.
Behind his head was an altar, at which the priest, habited in his
surplice and stole, recited prayers. All the persons of his suite,
officers and servants, dressed in mourning, were standing on his left.
Doctor Arnott watched over the corpse, which had been placed under his
personal responsibility.

The door of the _chambre ardente_, and the approach to it, had been
for some hours past thronged by an immense crowd. The door was at last
opened; and the crowd entered, and gazed upon the lifeless remains,
without confusion, without tumult, and in a religious silence. The
order of admittance was regulated by Captain Crokat, the orderly
officer of Longwood. The officers and subalterns of the 20th and 66th
regiments were first admitted, and the remainder afterwards. All felt
that emotion which the spectacle of courage and misfortune united
never fails to excite in the hearts of all brave men.

The coffin which was to receive the Emperor having been brought, I was
obliged to place the heart and stomach in it. I had flattered myself
that I should be able to convey them to Europe; but all my entreaties
on that subject were fruitless: I experienced the grief and
mortification of a refusal. I left the first-mentioned of these two
organs in the vase in which it had at first been enclosed, and placed
the second in another vase of the same metal, and of a cylindrical
shape, which had been used to keep Napoleon’s sponge. I filled the
vase containing the heart with alcohol, closed it hermetically,
soldered it, and deposited it with the other at the angles of the
coffin, in which Napoleon was then laid. The body was first placed
upon a kind of mattress and pillow, in a tin-box lined with white
satin. The Emperor’s hat, which could not remain on his head for want
of room, was placed on his feet; eagles, some pieces of all the coins
bearing his effigy, his fork and spoon, his knife, a plate with his
arms, &c. were also put into that box, which was carefully soldered,
and placed in another of mahogany. A third, of lead, received these
two boxes; and the whole was finally enclosed in a fourth of mahogany,
which was closed, and secured with iron screws. The coffin was then
covered with the cloak Napoleon had worn at the battle of Marengo, and
exposed on the same spot where the body had lain. Arnott continued to
watch, and Vignali to pray; whilst the crowd, which increased every
hour, were allowed to circulate round these mournful objects.

                              THE FUNERAL.

The Governor himself soon arrived at Longwood, and was shortly
afterwards followed by the Admiral and all the civil and military
authorities. The weather was beautiful, the roads were crowded with
people, and the hills covered with musicians: never had so mournful
and solemn a spectacle been before exhibited in the island. At
half-past twelve the grenadiers took the coffin, which they could not
lift without difficulty, and, after repeated and persevering efforts,
succeeded in carrying it to and placing it on the hearse, which was
waiting in the great walk in the garden; and it was then covered with
a violet coloured velvet cloth, and the cloak which Napoleon wore at
Marengo. The Emperor’s household was in mourning; and the funeral
procession was arranged, and proceeded in the following order, which
had been regulated by the Governor himself:—

        Abbé Vignali, habited in the sacerdotal ornaments used
            for the celebration of mass, with young Henry
                 Bertrand, carrying a vase of silver
                      containing Holy-water and
                                 the
                            _Aspersorium_.
                      Doctor Arnott and myself.
       The persons appointed to take care of the hearse, which
             was drawn by four horses, led by grooms, and
                   escorted by twelve grenadiers on
                     each side, without arms.[49]

Footnote 49:

  They were to carry the coffin, when the bad state of the roads
  should prevent the hearse from advancing.

          Young Napoleon Bertrand and Marchand, both on foot
                     on each side of the hearse.
        Counts Bertrand and Montholon on horseback immediately
                          behind the hearse.
                     Part of the Emperor’s suite.
         Countess Bertrand, with her daughter Hortense, in a
              calash drawn by two horses led by servants
                    who walked on the side of the
                              precipice.
        The Emperor’s horse, led by his _piqueur_ Archambaud.
              The officers of the marines on foot and on
                              horseback.
               The officers of the staff on horseback.
        General Coffin and the Marquis Montchenu on horseback.
              The Admiral and the Governor on horseback.
                    The inhabitants of the Island.

The procession left Longwood in this order, passed before the
guard-house, and the garrison of the island, about two thousand five
hundred strong, which lined the whole of the left side of the road as
far as Hut’s Gate. Bands of music, stationed at intervals, added by
their mournful sounds to the solemn sadness of the ceremony. After the
procession had passed before the troops, they followed, and
accompanied it towards the place of burial. The dragoons marched
first, the 20th regiment of infantry followed; then came the marines,
the 66th regiment, the volunteers of St. Helena; and, lastly, the
regiment of royal artillery, with fifteen pieces of cannon. Lady Lowe
and her daughter were waiting on the road at Hut’s Gate, in a calash
drawn by two horses, and afterwards followed the procession at a
distance, accompanied by some servants in mourning. The fifteen pieces
of cannon were stationed along the road, and the men were near their
pieces ready to fire.