CHAPTER XLII

After a voyage of sixty-seven days the exiles sighted St. Helena—"that black wart rising out of the ocean," as Surgeon Henry calls it. Blank dismay laid hold of the more sensitive as they gazed at those frowning cliffs. What Napoleon's feelings were we know not. Watchful curiosity seemed to be uppermost; for as they drew near to Jamestown, he minutely scanned the forts through a glass. Arrangements having been made for his reception, he landed in the evening of the 17th October, so as to elude the gaze of the inhabitants, and entered a house prepared for him in the town.

On the morrow he was up at dawn, and rode with Cockburn and Bertrand to Longwood, the residence of the Lieutenant-Governor. The orders of our East India Company, to which the island then belonged, forbade his appropriation of Plantation House, the Governor's residence; and a glance at the accompanying map will show the reason of this prohibition. This house is situated not far from creeks that are completely sheltered from the south-east trade winds, whence escape by boat would be easy; whereas Longwood is nearer the surf-beaten side and offers far more security. After conferring with Governor Wilks and others, Cockburn decided on this residence.

"Napoleon," wrote Glover, "seemed well satisfied with the situation of Longwood, and expressed a desire to occupy it as soon as possible." As he disliked the publicity of the house in Jamestown, Cockburn suggested on their return that he should reside at a pretty little bungalow, not far from the town, named "The Briars." He readily assented, and took up his abode there for seven weeks, occupying a small adjoining annexe, while Las Cases and his son established themselves in the two[pg.541] garrets. A marquee was erected to serve as dining-room. It was a narrow space for the lord of the Tuileries, but he seems to have been not unhappy. There he dictated Memoranda to Las Cases or Gourgaud in the mornings, and often joined the neighbouring family of the Balcombes for dinner and the evening. Mr. Balcombe, an elderly merchant, was appointed purveyor to the party; he and his wife were most hospitable, and their two daughters, of fifteen and fourteen years, frequently beguiled Napoleon's evening hours with games of whist or naïve questions. On one supreme occasion, in order to please the younger girl, Napoleon played at blindman's buff; at such times she ventured to call him "Boney"; and, far from taking offence at this liberty, he delighted in her glee. It is such episodes as these that reveal the softer traits of his character, which the dictates of policy had stunted but not eradicated.^[554]

In other respects, the time at "The Briars" was dull and monotonous, and he complained bitterly to Cockburn of the inadequate accommodation. The most exciting times were on the arrival of newspapers from Europe. The reports just to hand of riots in England and royalist excesses in France fed his hopes of general disorders or revolutions which might lead to his recall. He believed the Jacobins would yet lord it over the Continent. "It is only I who can tame them."

Equally noteworthy are his comments on the trials of Labédoyère and Ney for their treason to Louis XVIII. He has little pity for them. "One ought never to break one's word," he remarked to Gourgaud, "and I despise traitors." On hearing that Labédoyère was condemned to death, he at first shows more feeling: but he comes round to the former view: "Labédoyère acted like a man without honour," and "Ney dishonoured himself."^[555]

We may hereby gauge [pg.542] the value which Napoleon laid on fidelity. For him it is the one priceless virtue. He esteems those who staunchly oppose him, and seeks to gain them over by generosity: for those who come over he ever has a secret contempt; for those who desert him, hatred. Doubtless that is why he heard the news of Ney's execution unmoved. Brilliantly brave as the Marshal was, he had abandoned him in 1814, and Louis XVIII. in the Hundred Days. The tidings of Murat's miserable fate, at the close of his mad expedition to Calabria, leave Napoleon equally cold.—"I announce the fatal news," writes Gourgaud, "to His Majesty, whose expression remains unchanged, and who says that Murat must have been mad to attempt a venture like that."—Here again his thoughts seem to fly back to Murat's defection in 1814. Later on, he says he loved him for his brilliant bravery, and therefore pardoned his numerous follies. But his present demeanour shows that he never forgave that of 1814.^[556]

Meanwhile, thanks to the energy of Cockburn and his sailors, Longwood was ready for the party (December 9th, 1815), and the Admiral hoped that their complaints would cease. The new abode contained five rooms for Napoleon's use, three for the Montholons, two for the Las Cases, and one for Gourgaud: it was situated on a plateau 1,730 feet above the sea: the air there was bracing, and on the farther side of the plain dotted with gum trees stretched the race-course, a mile and a half of excellent turf. The only obvious drawbacks were the occasional mists, and the barren precipitous ravines that flank the plateau on all sides. Seeing, however, that Napoleon disliked the publicity of Jamestown, the isolation of Longwood could hardly be alleged as a serious grievance. The Bertrands occupied Hutt's Gate, a small villa about a mile distant.

The limits within which Napoleon might take exercise unaccompanied by a British officer formed a roughly[pg.543] triangular space having a circumference of about twelve miles. Outside of those bounds he must be so accompanied; and if a strange ship came in sight, he was to return within bounds. The letters of the whole party must be supervised by the acting Governor. This is the gist of the official instructions. Napoleon's dislike of being accompanied by a British officer led him nearly always to restrict himself to the limits and generally to the grounds of Longwood.

And where, we may ask, could a less unpleasant place of detention have been found? In Europe he must inevitably have submitted to far closer confinement. For what safeguards could there have been proof against a subtle intellect and a personality whose charm fired thousands of braves in both hemispheres with the longing to start him once more on his adventures? The Tower of London, the eyrie of Dumbarton Castle, even Fort William itself, were named as possible places of detention. Were they suited to this child of the Mediterranean? He needed sun; he needed exercise; he needed society. All these he could have on the plateau of Longwood, in a singularly equable climate, where the heat of the tropics is assuaged by the south-east trade wind, and plants of the sub-tropical and temperate zones alike flourish.^[557]

But nothing pleased the exiles. They moped during the rains; they shuddered at the yawning ravines; they groaned at the sight of the red-coats; above all, they realized that escape was hopeless in face of Cockburn's watchful care. His first steps on arriving at the island were to send on to the Cape seventy-five foreigners whose[pg.544] presence was undesirable. He also despatched the "Peruvian" to hoist the British flag on the uninhabited island, Ascension, in order, as he wrote to the Admiralty, "to prevent America or any other nation from planting themselves [sic] there ... for the purpose of favouring sooner or later the escape of General Bonaparte." Four ships of war were also kept at St. Helena, and no merchantmen but those of the East India Company were to touch there except under stress of weather or when in need of water.

These precautions early provoked protests from the exiles. Bertrand had no wish to draw them up in the trenchant style that the ex-Emperor desired; but Gourgaud's "Journal" shows that he was driven on to the task (November 5th). It only led to a lofty rejoinder from Cockburn, in which he declined to relax his system, but expressed the wish to render their situation "as little disagreeable as possible." On December 21st, Montholon returned to the charge with a letter dictated by Napoleon, complaining that Longwood was the most barren spot on the island, always deluged with rain or swathed in mist; that O'Meara was not to count as a British officer when they went beyond the limits, and had been reprimanded by the Admiral for thus acting; and that the treatment of the exiles would excite the indignation of all times and all people. To this the Admiral sent a crushing rejoinder, declining to explain why he had censured O'Meara or any other British subject: he asserted that Longwood was "the most pleasant as well as the most healthy spot of this most healthful island," expressed the hope that, when the rains had ceased, the party would change their opinion of Longwood, and declared that the treatment of the party would "obtain the admiration of future ages, as well as of every unprejudiced person of the present."

We now know that the Admiral's trust in the judicial impartiality of future ages was a piece of touching credulity, and that the next generation, like his own, was greedily to swallow sensational slander and to neglect the prosaic[pg.545] truth. But, arguing from present signs, he might well believe that Montholon's letter was a tissue of falsehoods; for that officer soon confessed to him that "it was written in a moment of petulance of the General [Bonaparte] ... and that he [Montholon] considered the party to be in point of fact vastly well off and to have everything necessary for them, though anxious that there should be no restrictions as to the General going unattended by an officer wherever he pleased throughout the island."^[558] On the last point Cockburn was inflexible.

The Admiral's responsibility was now nearly at an end. On April 14th, 1816, there landed at St. Helena Sir Hudson Lowe, the new Governor, who was to take over the powers wielded both by Cockburn and Wilks. The new arrival, on whom the storms of calumny were thenceforth persistently to beat, had served with distinction in many parts. Born in 1769, within one month of Napoleon, he early entered our army, and won his commission by service in Corsica and Elba, his linguistic and military gifts soon raising him to the command of a corps of Corsican exiles who after 1795 enlisted in our service. With these "Corsican Rangers" Lowe campaigned in Egypt and finally at Capri, their devotion to him nerving them to a gallant but unavailing defence of this islet against a superior force of Murat's troops in 1808.^[559] In 1810 Lowe and his Corsicans captured the Isle of Santa Maura, which he thereafter governed to the full satisfaction of the inhabitants. Early in 1813 he was ordered to Russia, and thereafter served as attaché on Blücher's staff in the memorable advance to the Rhine and the Seine. He brought the news of Napoleon's first abdication to England, was knighted by the Prince Regent, and received Russian and Prussian orders of distinction for his[pg.546] services. At the close of 1814 he was appointed Quartermaster-General of our forces in the Netherlands and received flattering letters of congratulation from Blücher and Gneisenau, the latter expressing his appreciation of "Your rare military talents, your profound judgment on the great operations of war, and your imperturbable sang froid in the day of battle. These rare qualities and your honourable character will link me to you eternally." In 1822, when O'Meara was slandering Lowe's character, the Czar Alexander met his step-daughter, the Countess Balmain, at Verona, and in reference to Sir Hudson's painful duties at St. Helena, said of him: "Je l'estime beaucoup. Je l'ai connu dans les temps critiques."^[560]

Lowe's firmness of character, command of foreign languages, and intimate acquaintance with Corsicans, seemed to mark him out as the ideal Governor of St. Helena in place of the mild and scholarly Wilks. And yet the appointment was in some ways unfortunate. Though a man of sterling worth, Lowe was reserved, and had little acquaintance with the ways of courtiers. Moreover, the superstitious might deem that all the salient events of his career proclaimed him an evil genius dogging the steps of Napoleon; and, as superstition laid increasing hold on the great Corsican in his later years, we may reasonably infer that this feeling intensified, if it did not create, the repugnance which he ever manifested to la figure sinistre of the Governor. Lowe also at first shrank from an appointment that must bring on him the intrigues of Napoleon and of his partisans in England. Only a man of high rank and commanding influence could hope to live down such attacks; and Lowe had neither rank nor influence. He was the son of an army surgeon, and was almost unknown in the country which for twenty-eight years he had served abroad.

His first visits to Longwood were unfortunate. Cockburn and he arranged to go at 9 a.m., the time when Napoleon frequently went for a drive. On their arrival they were informed that the Emperor was indisposed[pg.547] and could not see them until 4 p.m. of the next day, and it soon appeared that the early hour of their call was taken as an act of rudeness. On the following afternoon Lowe and Cockburn arranged to go in together to the presence; but as Lowe advanced to the chamber, Bertrand stepped forward, and a valet prevented the Admiral's entrance, an act of incivility which Lowe did not observe. Proceeding alone, the new Governor offered his respects in French; but on Napoleon remarking that he must know Italian, for he had commanded a regiment of Corsicans, they conversed in Napoleon's mother-tongue. The ex-Emperor's first serious observation, which bore on the character of the Corsicans, was accompanied by a quick searching glance: "They carry the stiletto: are they not a bad people?"—Lowe saw the snare and evaded it by the reply: "They do not carry the stiletto, having abandoned that custom in our service: I was very well satisfied with them." They then conversed a short time about Egypt and other topics. Napoleon afterwards contrasted him favourably with Cockburn: "This new Governor is a man of very few words, but he appears to be a polite man: however, it is only from a man's conduct for some time that you can judge of him."^[561]

Cockburn was indignant at the slight put upon him by Napoleon and Bertrand, which succeeded owing to Lowe's want of ready perception; but he knew that the cause of the exiles' annoyance was his recent firm refusal to convey Napoleon's letter of complaint direct to the Prince Regent, without the knowledge of the Ministry. Failing to bend the Admiral, they then sought to cajole the retiring Governor, Wilks, who, having borne little of the responsibility of their custody, was proportionately better liked. First Bertrand, and then Napoleon, requested him to take this letter without the knowledge of the new Governor. Wilks at once repelled the request, remarking to Bertrand that such attempts at evasion must lead to greater stringency in the future. And this[pg.548] was the case.^[562] The incident naturally increased Lowe's suspicion of the ex-Emperor.

At first there was an uneasy truce between them. Gourgaud, though cast down at the departure of the "adorable" Miss Wilks, found strength enough to chronicle in his "Journal" the results of a visit paid by Las Cases to Lowe at Plantation House (April 26th): the Governor received the secretary very well and put all his library at the disposal of the party; but the diarist also notes that Napoleon took amiss the reception of any of his people by the Governor. This had been one of the unconscious crimes of the Admiral. With the hope of brightening the sojourn of the exiles, he had given several balls, at which Mmes. Bertrand and Montholon shone resplendent in dresses that cast into the shade those of the officers' wives. Their triumph was short-lived. When la grande Maréchale ventured to desert the Emperor's table on these and other festive occasions, her growing fondness for the English drew on her sharp rebukes from the ex-Emperor and a request not to treat Longwood as if it were an inn.^[563] Many jottings in Gourgaud's diary show that the same policy was thenceforth strictly maintained. Napoleon kept up the essentials of Tuileries etiquette, required the attendance of his courtiers, and jealously checked any familiarity with Plantation House or Jamestown.

On some questions Lowe was more pliable than the home Government, notably in the matter of the declarations signed by Napoleon's followers. But in one matter he was proof against all requests from Longwood: this was the extension of the twelve-mile limit. It afterwards became the custom to speak as if Lowe could have granted this. Even the Duke of Wellington declared to Stanhope that he considered Lowe a stupid man, suspicious and jealous, who might very well have let Napoleon go freely about the island provided that[pg.549] the six or seven landing-places were well guarded and that Napoleon showed himself to a British officer every night and morning. Now, it is futile to discuss whether such liberty would have enabled Napoleon to pass off as someone else and so escape. What is certain is that our Government, believing he could so escape, imposed rules which Lowe was not free to relax.

Napoleon realized this perfectly well, but in the interview of April 30th, 1816, he pressed Lowe for an extension of the limits, saying that he hated the sight of our soldiers and longed for closer intercourse with the inhabitants. Other causes of friction occurred, such as Lowe's withdrawal of the privilege, rather laxly granted by Cockburn to Bertrand, of granting passes for interviews with Napoleon; or again a tactless invitation that Lowe sent to "General Bonaparte" to meet the wife of the Governor-General of India at dinner at Plantation House. But in the midst of the diatribe which Napoleon shortly afterwards shot forth at his would-be host—a diatribe besprinkled with taunts that Lowe was sent to be his executioner—there came a sentence which reveals the cause of his fury: "If you cannot extend my limits, you can do nothing for me."^[564]

Why this wish for wider limits? It did not spring from a desire for longer drives; for the plateau offered nearly all the best ground in the island for such exercise. Neither was it due to a craving for wider social intercourse. There can be little doubt that he looked on an extension of limits as a necessary prelude to attempts at escape and as a means of influencing the slaves at the outlying plantations. Gourgaud names several instances of gold pieces being given to slaves, and records the glee shown by his master on once slipping away from the sentries and the British officer. These feelings and attempts were perfectly natural on Napoleon's part; but it was equally natural that the Governor should regard them as part of a plan of escape or rescue—a matter that will engage our closer attention presently.[pg.550]

Napoleon had only two more interviews with Lowe namely, on July 17th and August 18th. In the former of these he was more conciliatory; but in the latter, at which Admiral Sir Pulteney Malcolm was present, he assailed the Governor with the bitterest taunts. Lowe cut short the painful scene by saying: "You make me smile, sir." "How smile, sir?" "You force me to smile: your misconception of my character and the rudeness of your manners excite my pity. I wish you good day." The Admiral also retired.^[565]

Various causes have been assigned for the hatred that Napoleon felt for Lowe. His frequents taunts that he was no general, but only a leader of Corsican deserters, suggests one that has already been referred to. It has also been suggested that Lowe was not a gentleman, and references have been approvingly made to comparisons of his physiognomy with that of the devil, and of his eye with "that of a hyæna caught in a trap." As to this we will cite the opinion of Lieutenant (later Colonel) Basil Jackson, who was unknown to Lowe before 1816, and was on friendly terms with the inmates both of Longwood and of Plantation House:

If overhanging eyebrows, a penetrating glance, and rather abrupt manners be thought to justify comparisons with the devil or a hyæna, the art of historical portraiture will assuredly have to be learnt over again in conformity with impressionist methods. That Lowe was a gentleman is affirmed by Mrs. Smith (née Grant), who, in later years, when prejudiced against him by O'Meara's slanders, met him at Colombo without at first knowing his name:

The real cause of Napoleon's hatred of Lowe is hinted at by Sir George Bingham in his Diary (April 19th). After mentioning Napoleon's rudeness to Cockburn on parting with him, he proceeds:

Yes! Lowe's offence lay not in his manners, not even in his features, but in his firmness. Napoleon soon saw that all his efforts to bend him were in vain. Neither in regard to the Imperial title, nor the limits, nor the transmission of letters to Europe, would the Governor swerve a hair's breadth from his instructions. At the risk of giving a surfeit of quotations, we must cite two more on this topic. Basil Jackson, when at Paris in 1828, chanced to meet Montholon, and was invited to his Château de Frémigny; during his stay the conversation turned upon their sojourn at St. Helena, to the following effect:

Las Cases also, in a passage that he found it desirable to suppress when he published his "Journal" wrote as follows (November 30th, 1815):

We are now able to understand the real nature of the struggle that went on between Longwood and Plantation House. Napoleon and his followers sought by every means to bring odium upon Lowe, and to furnish the Opposition at Westminster with toothsome details that might lead to the disgrace of the Governor, the overthrow of the Ministry, and the triumphant release of the ex-Emperor. On the other hand, the knowledge of the presence of traitors on the island, and of possible rescuers hovering about on the horizon, kept Lowe ever at work "unravelling the intricate plotting constantly going on at Longwood," until his face wore the preoccupied worried look that Surgeon Henry describes.

That both antagonists somewhat overacted their parts does not surprise us when we think of the five years thus spent within a narrow space and under a tropical sun. Lowe was at times pedantic, witness his refusal to forward to Longwood books inscribed to the "Emperor Napoleon," and his suspicions as to the political significance of green and white beans offered by Montholon to the French Commissioner, Montchenu. But such incidents can be paralleled from the lives of most officials who bear a heavy burden of responsibility. And who has ever borne a heavier burden?^[571][pg.554]

Napoleon also, in his calmer moods, regretted the violence of his language to the Governor. He remarked to Montholon: "This is the second time in my life that I have spoilt my affairs with the English. Their phlegm leads me on, and I say more than I ought. I should have done better not to have replied to him." This reference to his attack on Whitworth in 1803 flashes a ray of light on the diatribe against Lowe. In both cases, doubtless, the hot southron would have bridled his passion sooner, had it produced any visible effect on the colder man of the north. Nevertheless, the scene of August 18th, 1816, had an abiding influence on his relations with the Governor. For the rest of that weary span of years they never exchanged a word.

Lowe's official reports prove that he did not cease to consult the comfort of the exiles as far as it was possible. The building of the new house, however, remained in abeyance, as Napoleon refused to give any directions on the subject: and the much-needed repairs to Longwood were stopped owing to his complaints of the noise of the workmen. But by ordering the claret that the ex-Emperor preferred, and by sending occasional presents of game to Longwood, Lowe sought to keep up the ordinary civilities of life; and when the home Government sought to limit the annual cost of the Longwood household to £8,000, Lowe took upon himself to increase that sum by one half.

Napoleon's behaviour in this last affair is noteworthy. On hearing of the need for greater economy, he readily assented, sent away seven servants, and ordered a [pg.555] reduction in the consumption of wine. A day or two later, however, he gave orders that some of his silver plate should be sold in order "to provide those little comforts denied them." Balcombe was accordingly sent for, and, on expressing regret to Napoleon at the order for sale, received the reply: "What is the use of plate when you have nothing to eat off it?" Lowe quietly directed Balcombe to seal up the plate sent to him, and to advance money up to its value (£250); but other portions of the plate were broken and sold later on. O'Meara reveals the reason for these proceedings in his letter of October 10th: "In this he [Napoleon] has also a wish to excite odium against the Governor by saying that he has been obliged to sell his plate in order to provide against starvation, as he himself told me was his object."^[572]

Another incident that embittered the relations between Napoleon and the Governor was the arrival from England of more stringent regulations for his custody. The chief changes thus brought about (October 9th, 1816) were a restriction of the limits from a twelve-mile to an eight-mile circumference and the posting of a ring of sentries at a slight distance from Longwood at sunset instead of at 9 p.m.^[573] The latter change is to be regretted; for it marred the pleasure of Napoleon's evening strolls in his garden; but, as the Governor pointed out, the three hours after sunset had been the easiest time for escape. The restriction of limits was needful, not only in order to save our troops the labour of watching a wide area that was scarcely ever used for exercise, but also to prevent underhand intercourse with slaves.[pg.556]

Was there really any need for these "nation-degrading" rules, as O'Meara called them? Or were they imposed in order to insult the great man? A reference to the British archives will show that there was some reason for them. Schemes of rescue were afoot that called for the greatest vigilance.

As we have seen (page 527, note), a letter had on August 2nd, 1815, been directed to Mme. Bertrand (really for Napoleon) at Plymouth, stating that the writer had placed sums of money with well-known firms of Boston, New York, Philadelphia, and Charlestown on his behalf, and that he (Napoleon) had only to make known his wishes "avec le thé de la Chine ou les mousselines de l'Inde": for the rest, the writer hoped much from English merchantmen. This letter, after wide wanderings, fell into our hands and caused our Government closely to inspect all letters and merchandise that passed into, or out of, St. Helena. Its attention was directed specially to the United States. There the Napoleonic cult had early taken root, thanks to his overthrow of the kings and his easy sale of Louisiana; the glorifying haze of distance fostered its growth; and now the martyrdom of St. Helena brought it to full maturity. Enthusiasm and money alike favoured schemes of rescue.

In our St. Helena Records (No. 4) are reports as to two of them. Forwarded by the Spanish Ambassador at Washington, the first reached Madrid on May 9th, 1816, and stated that a man named Carpenter had offered to Joseph Bonaparte (then in the States) to rescue Napoleon, and had set sail on a ship for that purpose. This was at once made known to Lord Bathurst, our Minister for War and the Plantations, who forwarded it to Lowe. In August of that year our Foreign Office also received news that four schooners and other smaller vessels had set sail from Baltimore on June 14th with 300 men under an old French naval officer, named Fournier, ostensibly to help Bolivar, but really to rescue Bonaparte. These fast-sailing craft were to lie out of sight of the island by day,[pg.557] creep up at night to different points, and send boats to shore; from each of these a man, in English uniform, was to land and proceed to Longwood, warning Napoleon of the points where the boats would be ready to receive him. The report concludes: "Considerable sums in gold and diamonds will be put at his disposal to bribe those who may be necessary to him. They seem to flatter themselves of a certain co-operation on the part of certain individuals domiciled or employed at St. Helena."^[574]

Bathurst sent on to Lowe a copy of this intelligence. Forsyth does not name the affair, though he refers to other warnings, received at various times by Bathurst and forwarded to the Governor, that there were traitors in the island who had been won over by Napoleon's gold to aid his escape.^[575] I cannot find out that the plans described above were put to the test, though suspicious vessels sometimes appeared and were chased away by our cruisers. But when we are considering the question whether Bathurst and Lowe were needlessly strict or not, the point at issue is whether plans of escape or rescue existed, and if so, whether they knew of them. As to this there cannot be the shadow of doubt; and it is practically certain that they were the cause of the new regulations of October 9th, 1816.

We have now traced the course of events during the first critical twelvemonth; we have seen how friction burst into a flame, how the chafing of that masterful spirit against all restraint served but to tighten the[pg.558] inclosing grasp, and how the attempts of his misguided friends in America and Europe changed a fairly lax detention into actual custody. It is a vain thing to toy with the "might-have-beens" of history; but we can fancy a man less untamable than Napoleon frankly recognizing that he had done with active life by assuming a feigned name (e.g., that of Colonel Muiron, which he once thought of) and settling down in that equable retreat to the congenial task of compiling his personal and military Memoirs. If he ever intended to live as a country squire in England, there were equal facilities for such a life in St. Helena, with no temptations to stray back into politics. The climate was better for him than that of England, and the possibilities for exercise greater than could there have been allowed. Books there were in abundance—2,700 of them at last: he had back files of the "Moniteur" for his writings, and copies of "The Times" came regularly from Plantation House: a piano had been bought in England for £120. Finally there were the six courtiers whose jealous devotion, varying moods, and frequent quarrels furnished a daily comedietta that still charms posterity.

What then was wanting? Unfortunately everything was wanting. He cared not for music, or animals, or, in recent years, for the chase. He himself divulged the secret, in words uttered to Gallois in the days of his power: "Je n'aime pas beaucoup les femmes, ni le jeu—enfin rien: je suis tout à fait un être politique!"—He never ceased to love politics and power. At St. Helena he pictured himself as winning over the English, had he settled there. Ah! if I were in England, he said, I should have conquered all hearts.^[576] And assuredly he would have done so. How could men so commonplace as the Prince Regent, Liverpool, Castlereagh, and Bathurst have made head against the influence of a truly great and enthralling personality? Or if he had gone to the United States, who would have competed with him for the Presidency?[pg.559]

As it was, he chose to remain indoors, in order to figure as the prisoner of Longwood,^[577] and spent his time between intrigues against Lowe and dictation of Memoirs. On the subject of Napoleon's writings we cannot here enter, save to say that his critiques of Cæsar, Turenne, and Frederick the Great, are of great interest and value; that the records of his own campaigns, though highly suggestive, need to be closely checked by the original documents, seeing that he had not all the needful facts and figures at hand; and that his record of political events is in the main untrustworthy: it is an elaborate device for enhancing the Napoleonic tradition and assuring the crown to the King of Rome.

We turn, then, to take a brief glance at his last years. The first event that claims notice is the arrest of Las Cases. This subtle intriguer had soon earned the hatred of Montholon and Gourgaud, who detested "the little Jesuit" for his Malvolio-like airs of importance and the hints of Napoleon that he would have ceremonial precedence over them. His rapid rise into favour was due to his conversational gifts, literary ability, and thorough knowledge of the English people and language. This last was specially important. Napoleon very much wished to learn our language, as he hoped that any mail might bring news of the triumph of the Whigs and an order for his own departure for England. His studies with Las Cases were more persevering than successful, as will be seen from the following curious letter, written apparently in the watches of the night: it has been recently re-published by M. de Brotonne.

How much farther Napoleon progressed in his efforts to absorb our language by these mathematical methods we do not know; for no other English letter of his seems to be extant. The arrest and departure of his tutor soon occurred, and there are good grounds for assigning this ultimately to the jealousy of the less cultured Generals. Thus, we find Gourgaud asserting that Las Cases has come to St. Helena solely "in order to get talked about, write anecdotes, and make money." Montholon also did his best to render the secretary's life miserable, and on one occasion predicted to Gourgaud that Las Cases would soon leave the island.^[578]

The forecast speedily came true. The secretary intrusted to his servant, a dubious mulatto named Scott, two letters for Europe sewn up in a waistcoat: one of them was a long letter to Lucien Bonaparte. The servant showed the letters to his father, who in some alarm revealed the matter to the Governor. It is curious as illustrating the state of suspicion then prevalent at St. Helena, that Las Cases accused the Scotts of being tools of the Governor; that Lowe saw in the affair the frayed end of a Longwood scheme; while the residents there suspected Las Cases of arranging matters as a means of departure from the island. There was much to justify this last surmise. Las Cases and his son were unwell; their position in the household was very uncomfortable; and for a skilled intriguer to intrust an important letter to a slave, who was already in the Governor's black books, was truly a singular proceeding. Besides, after the arrest, when the Governor searched Las Cases' papers in his presence, they were found to be in good[pg.561] order, among them being parts of his "Journal." Napoleon himself thought Las Cases guilty of a piece of extraordinary folly, though he soon sought to make capital out of the arrest by comparing the behaviour of our officers and their orderlies with "South Sea savages dancing around a prisoner that they are about to devour."^[579] After a short detention at Ross Cottage, when he declined the Governor's offer that he should return to Longwood, the secretary was sent to the Cape, and thence made his way to France, where a judicious editing of his "Memoirs" and "Journal" gained for their compiler a rich reward.

Gourgaud is the next to leave. The sensitive young man has long been tormented by jealousy. His diary becomes the long-drawn sigh of a generous but vain nature, when soured by real or fancied neglect. Though often unfair to Napoleon, whose egotism the slighted devotee often magnifies into colossal proportions, the writer unconsciously bears witness to the wondrous fascination that held the little Court in awe. The least attention shown to the Montholons costs "Gogo" a fit of spleen or a sleepless night, scarcely to be atoned for on the morrow by soothing words, by chess, or reversi, or help at the manuscript of "Waterloo." Again and again Napoleon tries to prove to him that the Montholons ought to have precedence: it is in vain. At last the crisis comes: it is four years since the General saved the Emperor from a Cossack's lance at Brienne, and the recollection renders his present "humiliations" intolerable. He challenges Montholon to a duel; Napoleon strictly forbids it; and the aggrieved officer seeks permission to depart.

Napoleon grants his request. It seems that the chief is weary of his moody humours; he further owes him a[pg.562] grudge for writing home to his mother frank statements of the way in which the Longwood exiles are treated. These letters were read by Lowe and Bathurst, and their general purport seems to have been known in French governmental circles, where they served as an antidote to the poisonous stories circulated by Napoleon and his more diplomatic followers. Clearly nothing is to be made of Gourgaud; and so he departs (February 13th, 1818). Bidding a tearful adieu, he goes with Basil Jackson to spend six weeks with him at a cottage near Plantation House, when he is astonished at the delicate reserve shown by the Governor. He then sets sail for England. The only money he has is £100 advanced by Lowe. Napoleon's money he has refused to accept.^[580]

And yet he did not pass out of his master's life. Landing in England on May 1st, he had a few interviews with our officials, in which he warned them that Napoleon's escape would be quite easy, and gave a hint as to O'Meara being the tool of Napoleon. But soon the young General came into touch with the leaders of the Opposition. No change in his sentiments is traceable until August 25th, when he indited a letter to Marie Louise, asserting that Napoleon was dying "in the torments of the longest and most frightful agony," a prey to the cruelty of England! To what are we to attribute this change of front? The editors of Gourgaud's "Journal" maintain that there was no change; they hint that the "Journal" may have been an elaborate device for throwing dust into Lowe's eyes; and they point to the fact that before leaving the island Gourgaud received secret instructions from Napoleon bidding him convey to Europe several small letters sewn into the soles of his boots. Whether he acted on these instructions may be doubted; for at his departure he gave his word of honour to Lowe that he was not the bearer of any paper, pamphlet, or letter from Longwood. Furthermore, we hear nothing of these secret letters afterwards; and he allowed[pg.563] nearly four months to elapse in England before he wrote to Marie Louise. The theory referred to above seems quite untenable in face of these facts.^[581]

How, then, are we to explain Gourgaud's conduct at St. Helena and afterwards? Now, in threading the mendacious labyrinths of St. Helena literature it is hard ever to find a wholly satisfactory clue; but Basil Jackson's "Waterloo and St. Helena" (p. 103) seems to supply it in the following passage: