The interest attaching to the foregoing interview betwixt Napoleon and the gentlemen sent to announce his doom, loses much, when we regard it in a great measure as an empty personification of feeling, a well-painted passion which was not in reality felt. Napoleon, as will presently appear, was not serious in averring that he had any encouragement from Captain Maitland to come on board his ship, save in the character of a prisoner, to be placed at the Prince Regent's discretion. Neither had he the most distant idea of preventing his removal to the Northumberland, either by violence to himself or any one else. Both topics of declamation were only used for show—the one to alarm the sense of honour entertained by the Prince Regent and the people of England, and the other to work upon their humanity.

There is little doubt that Napoleon saw the probability of the St. Helena voyage, so soon as he surrendered himself to the captain of the Bellerophon.[192] He had affirmed, that there was a purpose of transferring him to St. Helena or St. Lucie, even before he left Elba; and if he thought the English capable of sending him to such banishment while he was under the protection of the treaty of Fontainbleau, he could hardly suppose that they would scruple to execute such a purpose, after his own conduct had deprived him of all the immunities with which that treaty had invested him.

Nevertheless, while aware that his experiment might possibly thus terminate, Napoleon may have hoped a better issue, and conceived himself capable of cajoling the Prince Regent[193] and his administration into hazarding the safety and the peace of Europe, in order to display a Quixotic generosity towards an individual, whose only plea for deserving it was that he had been for twenty years their mortal enemy. Such hopes he may have entertained; for it cannot be thought that he would acknowledge even to himself the personal disqualifications which rendered him, in the eyes of all Europe, unworthy of trust or confidence. His expectation of a favourable reception did not go so far, in all likelihood, as those of the individual among his followers, who believed that Napoleon would receive the Order of the Garter from the Prince Regent; but he might hope to be permitted to reside in Britain on the same terms as his brother Lucien had done.

Doubtless he calculated upon, and perhaps overrated, all these more favourable chances. Yet, if the worst should arrive, he saw even in that worst, that island of St. Helena itself, the certainty of personal safety, which he could not be assured of in any despotic country, where, as he himself must have known pretty well, an obnoxious prisoner, or detenu, may lose his life par nÉgligence, without any bustle or alarm being excited upon the occasion. Upon the 16th August, while on his passage to St. Helena, he frankly acknowledged, that though he had been deceived in the reception he had expected from the English, still, harshly and unfairly as he thought himself treated, he found comfort from knowing that he was under the protection of British laws, which he could not have enjoyed had he gone to another country, where his fate would have depended upon the caprice of an individual. This we believe to be the real secret of his rendition to England, in preference to his father-in-law of Austria, or his friend in Russia. He might, in the first-named country, be kept in custody, more or less severe; but he would be at least secure from perishing of some political disease. Even while at St. Helena, he allowed, in an interval of good tempered candour, that comparing one place of exile to another, St. Helena was entitled to the preference. In higher latitudes, he observed, they would have suffered from cold, and in any other tropical island they would have been burned to death. At St. Helena the country was wild and savage, the climate monotonous, and unfavourable to health, but the temperature was mild and pleasing.[194]

The allegation on which Napoleon had insisted so much, namely, that Captain Maitland had pledged himself for his good reception in England, and received him on board his vessel, not as a prisoner, but as a guest, became now an important subject of investigation. All the while Napoleon had been on board the Bellerophon, he had expressed the greatest respect for Captain Maitland, and a sense of his civilities totally inconsistent with the idea that he conceived himself betrayed by him. He had even sounded that officer, by the means of Madame Bertrand, to know whether he would accept a present of his portrait set with diamonds, which Captain Maitland requested might not be offered, as he was determined to decline it.

On the 6th of August, Count Las Cases, for the first time, hinted to Captain Maitland, that he had understood him to have given an assurance, that Napoleon should be well received in England. Captain Maitland replied, it was impossible the count could mistake him so far, since he had expressly stated he could make no promises; but that he thought his orders would bear him out in receiving Napoleon on board, and conveying him to England. He reminded the count, that he had questioned him (Captain Maitland) repeatedly, as to his private opinion, to which he could only answer, that he had no reason to think Napoleon would be ill received. Las Cases had nothing to offer in reply. Upon the same 6th August, Napoleon himself spoke upon the subject, and it will be observed how very different his language was to Captain Maitland, from that which he held in his absence. "They say," he remarked, "that I made no conditions. Certainly I made no conditions. How could an individual enter into terms with a nation? I wanted nothing of them but hospitality, or, as the ancients would express it, air and water. As for you, captain, I have no cause of complaint; your conduct has been that of a man of honour."

The investigation of this matter did not end here, for the ungrounded assertion that Captain Maitland had granted some conditions, expressed or implied, was no sooner repelled than it was again revived.

On the 7th, Count Las Cases having a parting interview with Lord Keith, for the purpose of delivering to him a protest on the part of Buonaparte, "I was in the act of telling him," said the count, "that Captain Maitland had said he was authorised to carry us to London, without letting us suspect that we were to be regarded as prisoners of war; and that the captain could not deny that we came freely and in good faith; that the letter from the Emperor to the Prince of Wales, of the existence of which I had given Captain Maitland information, must necessarily have created tacit conditions, since he had made no observation on it." Here the admiral's impatience, nay, anger, broke forth. He said to him sharply, that in that case Captain Maitland was a fool, since his instructions contained not a word to such a purpose; and this he should surely know, since it was he, Lord Keith, who issued them. Count Las Cases still persevered, stating that his lordship spoke with a hasty severity, for which he might be himself responsible; since the other officers, as well as Rear-Admiral Hotham, had expressed themselves to the same effect, which could not have been the case had the letter of instructions been so clearly expressed, and so positive, as his lordship seemed to think.[195]

Lord Keith, upon this statement of Count Las Cases, called upon Captain Maitland for the most ample account he could give of the communications which he had had with the count, previous to Napoleon's coming on board the Bellerophon. Captain Maitland of course obeyed, and stated at full length the manner in which the French frigates lay blockaded, the great improbability of their effecting an escape, and the considerable risk they would have run in attempting it; the application to him, first by Savary and Las Cases, afterwards by Las Cases and Gourgaud; his objecting to the frequent flags of truce; his refusal to allow Buonaparte to pass to sea, either in French ships of war, or in a neutral vessel; his consenting to carry to England the late Emperor and his suite, to be at the disposal of the Prince Regent, with his cautions to them, again and again renewed, in the presence of Captain Sartorius and Captain Gambier, that he could grant no stipulations or conditions whatever. These officers gave full evidence to the same effect, by their written attestations. If, therefore, the insinuation of Count Las Cases, for it amounts to no more, is to be placed against the express and explicit averment of Captain Maitland, the latter must preponderate, were it but by aid of the direct testimony of two other British officers. Finally, Captain Maitland mentioned Napoleon's acknowledgment, and that of his suite, that though their expectations had been disappointed, they imputed no blame to him, which he could not have escaped, had he used any unwarranted and fallacious proposals to entice them on board his vessel. As the last piece of evidence, he mentioned his taking farewell of Montholon, who again reverted to Napoleon's wish to make him a present, and expressed the Emperor's sense of his civilities, and his high and honourable deportment through the whole transaction.

Captain Maitland, to use his own words, then said, "'I feel much hurt that Count Las Cases should have stated to Lord Keith, that I had promised Buonaparte should be well received in England, or indeed made promises of any sort. I have endeavoured to conduct myself with integrity and honour throughout the whole of this transaction, and therefore cannot allow such an assertion to go uncontradicted.'—'Oh!' said Count Montholon, 'Las Cases negotiated this business; it has turned out very differently from what he and all of us expected. He attributes the Emperor's situation to himself, and is therefore desirous of giving it the best countenance he can; but I assure you the Emperor is convinced your conduct has been most honourable;' then taking my hand, he pressed it, and added, 'and that is my opinion also.'"

Lord Keith was of course perfectly convinced that the charge against Captain Maitland was not only totally unsupported by testimony, but that it was disproved by the evidence of impartial witnesses, as well as by the conduct and public expression of sentiments of those who had the best right to complain of that officer's conduct, had it been really deserving of censure. The reason why Count Las Cases should persist in grounding hopes and wishes of his own framing, upon supposed expressions of encouragement from Captain Maitland, has been probably rightly treated by Count Montholon. Napoleon's conduct, in loading Captain Maitland with the charge of "laying snares for him," while his own conscience so far acquitted that brave officer, that he pressed upon him thanks, and yet more substantial evidence of his favourable opinion, can, we are afraid, only be imputed to a predominant sense of his own interest, to which he was not unwilling to have sacrificed the professional character and honourable name of an officer, to whom, on other occasions, he acknowledged himself obliged. As Captain Maitland's modest and manly Narrative[196] is now published, the figment, that Napoleon came on board the Bellerophon in any other character than as a prisoner of war, must be considered as silenced for ever.

Having prosecuted this interesting subject to a conclusion, we return to the train of circumstances attending Napoleon's departure from England, so far as they seem to contain historical interest.

The inconvenient resort of immense numbers, sometimes not less than a thousand boats, scarce to be kept off by absolute force by those who rowed guard within the prescribed distance of 300 yards from the Bellerophon, was rendered a greater annoyance, when Napoleon's repeated expressions, that he would never go to St. Helena, occasioned some suspicions that he meant to attempt his escape. Two frigates were therefore appointed to lie as guards on the Bellerophon, and sentinels were doubled and trebled, both by night and day.

An odd incident, of a kind which could only have happened in England (for though as many bizarre whims may arise in the minds of foreigners, they are much more seldom ripened into action,) added to the cares of those who were to watch this important prisoner. Some newspaper, which was not possessed of a legal adviser to keep it right in point of form, had suggested (in tenderness, we suppose, to public curiosity,) that the person of Napoleon Buonaparte should be removed to shore by agency of a writ of Habeas Corpus. This magical rescript of the Old Bailey, as Smollett terms it, loses its influence over an alien and prisoner of war, and therefore such an absurd proposal was not acted upon. But an individual prosecuted for a libel upon a naval officer, conceived the idea of citing Napoleon as an evidence in a court of justice, to prove, as he pretended, the state of the French navy, which was necessary to his defence. The writ was to have been served on Lord Keith; but he disappointed the litigant, by keeping his boat off the ship while he was on board, and afterwards by the speed of his twelve-oared barge, which the attorney's panting rowers toiled after in vain. Although this was a mere absurdity, and only worthy of the laughter with which the anecdote of the attorney's pursuit and the admiral's flight was generally received, yet it might have given rise to inconvenience, by suggesting to Napoleon, that he was, by some process or other, entitled to redress by the common law of England, and might have encouraged him in resisting attempts to remove him from the Bellerophon. On the 4th of August, to end such inconvenient occurrences, the Bellerophon was appointed to put to sea and remain cruising off the Start, where she was to be joined by the squadron destined for St. Helena, when Napoleon was with his immediate attendants to be removed on board the Northumberland.

His spirit for some time seemed wound up to some desperate resolve, and though he gave no hint of suicide before Captain Maitland, otherwise than by expressing a dogged resolution not to go to St. Helena, yet to Las Cases he spoke in undisguised terms of a Roman death.[197] We own we are not afraid of such resolutions being executed by sane persons when they take the precaution of consulting an intelligent friend. It is quite astonishing how slight a backing will support the natural love of life, in minds the most courageous, and circumstances the most desperate. We are not, therefore, surprised to find that the philosophic arguments of Las Cases determined Napoleon to survive and write his history. Had he consulted his military attendants, he would have received other counsels, and assistance to execute them if necessary. Lallemand, Montholon, and Gourgaud, assured Captain Maitland, that the Emperor would sooner kill himself than go to St. Helena, and that even were he to consent, they three were determined themselves to put him to death, rather than he should so far degrade himself. Captain Maitland, in reply, gave some hints indicative of the gallows, in case such a scheme were prosecuted.

Savary and Lallemand, were, it must be owned, under circumstances peculiarly painful. They had been among the list of persons excluded from the amnesty by the royal government of France, and now they were prohibited by the British Ministry from accompanying Napoleon to St. Helena. They entertained, not unnaturally, the greatest anxiety about their fate, apprehensive, though entirely without reason, that they might be delivered up to the French Government. They resolved upon personal resistance to prevent their being separated from their Emperor, but fortunately were so considerate amid their wrath, as to take the opinion of the late distinguished lawyer and statesman, Sir Samuel Romilly.[198] As the most effectual mode of serving these unfortunate gentlemen, Sir Samuel, by personal application to the Lord Chancellor, learned that there were no thoughts of delivering up his clients to the French government, and thus became able to put their hearts at ease upon that score. On the subject of the resistance, as to the legality of which they questioned him, Sir Samuel Romilly acquainted them, that life taken in an affray of the kind, would be construed into murder by the law of England. No greater danger, indeed, was to be expected from an assault, legalized upon the opinion of an eminent lawyer, than from a suicide adjusted with the advice of a counsellor of state; and we suppose neither Napoleon nor his followers were more serious in the violent projects which they announced, than they might think necessary to shake the purpose of the English Ministry. In this they were totally unsuccessful; and their intemperate threats only occasioned their being deprived of arms, excepting Napoleon, who was left in possession of his sword. Napoleon and his followers were greatly hurt at this marked expression of want of confidence, which must also have been painful to the English officers who executed the order, though it was explained to the French gentlemen, that the measure was only one of precaution, and that their weapons were to be carefully preserved and restored to them. During his last day on board the Bellerophon, Napoleon was employed in composing a Protest, which, as it contains nothing more than his address to Lord Keith and Sir Henry Bunbury, we have thrown into the Appendix.[199] He also wrote a second letter to the Prince Regent.

On the 4th of August, the Bellerophon set sail, and next morning fell in with the Northumberland, and the squadron destined for St. Helena, as also with the Tonnant, on board of which Lord Keith's flag was hoisted.

It was now that Napoleon gave Captain Maitland the first intimation of his purpose to submit to his exile, by requesting that Mr. O'Meara, surgeon of the Bellerophon, might be permitted to attend him to St. Helena, instead of his own surgeon, whose health could not stand the voyage. This made it clear that no resistance was designed; and, indeed, so soon as Napoleon observed that his threats had produced no effect, he submitted with his usual equanimity. He also gave orders to deliver up his arms. His baggage was likewise subjected to a form of search, but without unpacking or disturbing any article. The treasure of Buonaparte, amounting only to 4000 gold Napoleons, was taken into custody, to abridge him of that powerful means of effecting his escape. Full receipts, of course, were given, rendering the British Government accountable for the same; and Marchand, the favourite valet-de-chambre of the Emperor, was permitted to take whatever money he thought might be immediately necessary.

About eleven o'clock on the morning of the 7th August, Lord Keith came in his barge to transfer Napoleon from the Bellerophon to the Northumberland. About one o'clock, when Buonaparte had announced that he was in full readiness, a captain's guard was turned out; Lord Keith's barge was prepared; and as Napoleon crossed the quarter-deck, the soldiers presented arms under three ruffles of the drum, being the salute paid to a general officer. His step was firm and steady; his farewell to Captain Maitland polite and friendly.[200] That officer had no doubt something to forgive to Napoleon, who had endeavoured to fix on him the stigma of having laid a snare for him; yet the candid and manly avowal of the feelings which remained on his mind at parting with him, ought not to be suppressed. They add credit, were that required, to his plain, honest, and unvarnished narrative.

"It may appear surprising, that a possibility could exist of a British officer being prejudiced in favour of one who had caused so many calamities to his country; but to such an extent did he possess the power of pleasing, that there are few people who could have sat at the same table with him for nearly a month, as I did, without feeling a sensation of pity, allied perhaps to regret, that a man possessed of so many fascinating qualities, and who had held so high a station in life, should be reduced to the situation in which I saw him."[201]

Napoleon was received on board of the Northumberland with the same honours paid at leaving the Bellerophon. Sir George Cockburn, the British admiral, to whose charge the late Emperor was now committed, was in every respect a person highly qualified to discharge the task with delicacy towards Napoleon, yet with fidelity to the instructions he had received. Of good birth, accustomed to the first society, a handsome person, and an agreeable address, he had yet so much of the firmness of his profession as to be able to do unpleasing things when necessary. In every particular within the circle of his orders, he was kind, gentle, and accommodating; beyond them, he was inflexible. This mixture of courtesy and firmness was particularly necessary, since Napoleon, and still more his attendants on his behalf, were desirous upon several occasions to arrogate a degree of royal rank for the prisoner, which Sir George Cockburn's instructions, for reasons to be hereafter noticed, positively forbade him to concede. All that he could give, he gave with a readiness which showed kindness as well as courtesy; but aware that, beyond the fixed limit, each admitted claim would only form the foundation for another, he made his French guests sensible that ill-humour or anger could have no effect upon his conduct.

The consequence was, that though Napoleon, when transferred to the Northumberland, was, by the orders of the Admiralty, deprived of certain marks of deference which he received on board of the Bellerophon (where Captain Maitland had no precise orders on the subject, and the withholding of which in him would have been a gratuitous infliction of humiliation,) yet no positive quarrel, far less any rooted ill-will, took place betwixt Napoleon and the admiral. The latter remained at the principal place of his own table, was covered when on the quarterdeck, after the first salutations had passed, and disregarded other particulars of etiquette observed towards crowned heads; yet such circumstances only occasioned a little temporary coldness, which, as the admiral paid no attention to his guests' displeasure, soon gave way to a Frenchman's natural love of society; and Sir George Cockburn (ceasing to be the RÉquin, as Las Cases says the French termed him when they were in the pet,) became that mixture of the obliging gentleman and strict officer, for which Napoleon held him whenever he spoke candidly on the subject.

It may be mentioned as no bad instance of this line of conduct, and its effects, that upon the Northumberland crossing the line, the Emperor desiring to exhibit his munificence to the seamen, by presenting them with a hundred louis-d'or, under pretext of paying the ordinary fine, Sir George Cockburn, considering this tribute to Neptune as too excessive in amount, would not permit the donative to exceed a tenth part of the sum; and Napoleon, offended by the restriction, paid nothing at all. Upon another occasion, early in the voyage, a difference in national manners gave rise to one of those slight misunderstandings which we have noticed. Napoleon was accustomed, like all Frenchmen, to leave the table immediately after dinner, and Sir George Cockburn, with the English officers, remained after him at table; for, in permitting his French guests their liberty, the admiral did not choose to admit the right of Napoleon to break up the party at his, Sir George's, own table. This gave some discontent.[202] Notwithstanding these trifling subjects of dissatisfaction, Las Cases informs us that the admiral, whom he took to be prepossessed against them at first, became every day more amicable. The Emperor used to take his arm every evening on the quarterdeck, and hold long conversations with him upon maritime subjects, as well as past events in general.[203]

While on board the Northumberland, the late Emperor spent his mornings in reading or writing;[204] his evenings in his exercise upon deck, and at cards. The game was generally vingt un. But when the play became rather deep, he discouraged that amusement, and substituted chess. Great tactician as he was, Napoleon did not play well at that military game, and it was with difficulty that his antagonist, Montholon, could avoid the solecism of beating the Emperor.

During this voyage, Napoleon's jour de fÊte occurred, which was also his birth-day. It was the 15th August; a day for which the Pope had expressly canonized a St. Napoleon to be the Emperor's patron. And now, strange revolution, it was celebrated by him on board of an English man-of-war, which was conducting him to his place of imprisonment, and, as it proved, his tomb. Yet Napoleon seemed cheerful and contented during the whole day, and was even pleased with being fortunate at play, which he received as a good omen.[205]

Upon the 15th October, 1815, the Northumberland reached St. Helena, which presents but an unpromising aspect to those who design it for a residence, though it may be a welcome sight to the sea-worn mariner. Its destined inhabitant, from the deck of the Northumberland, surveyed it with his spy-glass. St. James' Town, an inconsiderable village, was before him, enchased as it were in a valley, amid arid and scarped rocks of immense height; every platform, every opening, every gorge, was bristled with cannon. Las Cases, who stood by him, could not perceive the slightest alteration of his countenance.[206] The orders of Government had been that Napoleon should remain on board till a residence could be prepared suitable for the line of life he was to lead in future. But as this was likely to be a work of time, Sir George Cockburn readily undertook, on his own responsibility, to put his passengers on shore, and provide in some way for the security of Napoleon's person, until the necessary habitation should be fitted up. He was accordingly transferred to land upon the 16th October;[207] and thus the Emperor of France, nay, wellnigh of Europe, sunk into the Recluse of St. Helena.