CHAPTER LXI.

NAPOLEON IS SENT ON BOARD THE ‘NORTHUMBERLAND’--HE PROTESTS AGAINST HIS EXILE--PUBLIC OPINION AS TO HIS TREATMENT.

That the Government was in earnest, as to his departure, was soon shown, for orders came on August 4 for the ‘Bellerophon’ to weigh, and join the ‘Northumberland,’ which was the ship in which Napoleon was to take his passage to St. Helena. He issued a formal protest:--

I hereby solemnly protest in the face of heaven and mankind against the violence that is done me; and the violation of my most sacred rights, in forcibly disposing of my person and liberty. I voluntarily came on board the _Bellerophon_--I am not the prisoner, I am the guest of England. I came at the instigation of the Captain himself, who said he had orders from the Government to receive and convey me to England, together with my suite, if agreeable to me. I came forward with confidence to place myself under the protection of the laws of England. When once on board the _Bellerophon_, I was entitled to the hospitality of the British people. If the Government, in giving the Captain of the _Bellerophon_ orders to receive me and my followers, only wished to lay a snare, it has forfeited its honour, and disgraced its flag.

If this act be consummated, it will be in vain for the English, henceforth, to talk of their sincerity, their laws, and liberties. British faith will have been lost in the hospitality of the _Bellerophon_.

I appeal to History; it will say, that an enemy, who made war for twenty years against the English people, came spontaneously, in the hour of misfortune, to seek an asylum under their laws. What more striking proof could he give of his esteem and confidence? But how did England reply to such an act of magnanimity? It pretended to hold out a hospitable hand to this enemy: and on giving himself up with confidence, he was immolated!

NAPOLEON.

_Bellerophon_, at Sea. Friday, Aug. 4th, 1815.

On the 6th they anchored off Start Point, and were soon joined by the ‘Northumberland’ and two frigates, full of soldiers, who were to form the garrison of St. Helena. By order, their arms were taken from them, with the exception of Napoleon, who was allowed to keep his sword; all their money, diamonds, and saleable effects were put under seal; but Napoleon might keep his plate, baggage, wines, and provisions. The search of his personal effects greatly exasperated him.

Between one and two o’clock P.M. of the 7th, the transfer from the ‘Bellerophon’ to the ‘Northumberland’ was made, and then, as there was nothing else to wait for, ‘Cæsar and his fortunes’ sailed for St. Helena.

The ‘Times’ (August 11, 1815) has the following short leader: ‘We trust that we now, at last, take a long leave of NAPOLEON BUONAPARTE, except that we may, occasionally, have to instance him as an example of every crime, for the benefit of others: and, if the hand of man has dealt too leniently by his offences, it must not, on that occasion, be conceived that he is exempt from every other punishment. To what profession of faith he may now belong, we know not, as we believe he has been Atheist, Mahometan, and Roman Catholic, in succession, as best suited the particular purpose of the moment: indeed, such was the inherent baseness of the man, notwithstanding his eminent talents, and incessant activity, that he was in the habitual practice of the meanest arts of deception for the promotion of his interest, never blushing at the subsequent exposure of his falsehoods, or the discovery of his expedients, provided they had first promoted the object he had in view.

‘Yet if he is still a man, he must, now that he is reduced to solitude and leisure, have some religion or other engraven in his soul, that will make him feel compunction for the many horrible atrocities of which he has been guilty. It is said that he needs incessant exercise for the relief of his bilious complaint; perhaps, also, he may now first discover that he has need of incessant bustle also, in order to abstract his attention from a certain mental malady, called an evil conscience. In the midst of the horror which his crimes always excited in well-constituted minds, throughout Europe, there was a certain mixture of contempt, or derision, excited by the little knaveries which he practised, and the same feeling will not fail to mingle itself in this the closing scene of his drama, on observing the attendants of such a man, who had been used to sport with oaths, to laugh at engagements, to make a mockery of religion, to commit or direct murder in all its forms, from the midnight assassination, up to the boundless slaughter of the tented field, anxious to provide for the amusement of his, and their, declining years, by a stock of cards, domino and backgammon tables.’

Whilst they are on their journey, we will just glance at the few remaining caricatures.

‘The Ex-Emperor in a bottle’ is a somewhat serious, and well-executed, engraving (August 25, 1815). Napoleon is enclosed in a glass bottle, which the Prince Regent, who wears a superb hussar uniform, has just sealed with a seal bearing the imprint of a cannon and the legend _Martial Achievements_; around are grouped the figures named in the following verses--Louis the Eighteenth being on his knees, his eyes being raised in pious thankfulness to Heaven.

Ambition’s dread career at length is o’er, And weeping Europe hopes for peace once more; Sov’reigns in arms, at length the world have freed, And Britain’s warlike sons no more shall bleed: The great Napoleon now resigns his sway, And in a bottle seal’d is borne away.

England’s great Prince, whom Europe does confess The potent friend of Freedom in distress, With _Allies_ brave, to the world impartial, Seal’d up their foe with _Achievements martial_, That he no more disturb the tranquil World, Nor be again his bloody flag unfurl’d.

’Twas Alexander great, of generous mind, With zealous Frederick, who to peace inclined, Resolv’d with Francis, in propitious hour, To free old Gallia from the Despot’s power. Her tyrannic Lord from rule is driven, And grateful Louis offers thanks to Heaven.

The _Martial Heroes_ next a tribute claim, First Wellington, immortal is his fame: And Blücher, who, for valour long renown’d, Compell’d the Tyrant’s legions to give ground: The cautious Swartzenberg, of wise delays, And the brave Platoff, ask their share of praise.

‘The downfall of Tyranny and return of Peace’ is by George Cruikshank, and, although not dated, is undoubtedly of the autumn of 1815. Justice, with a flaming sword, has banished Napoleon to his rock of St. Helena, where, chained, he is seized upon by the fiend as his own. Peace with her olive branch, Plenty with her cornucopia, Agriculture and Commerce, are welcomed by Britannia with open arms.

Marks (August 1815) drew ‘The Exile of St. Helena, or Boney’s Meditation,’ in which there is a fairly accurate delineation of the Rocky Island and its little town. Napoleon is standing with his feet astride, each planted on a rock on either side the bay; he weeps copiously, and the expression of his countenance is very rueful.

‘Napoleon’s trip from Elba to Paris, and from Paris to St. Helena’ is the title of three engravings on one sheet, by G. Cruikshank (September 1, 1815). In the first compartment is shown the battle of Waterloo, with the French army in full flight. Napoleon is seated on the French Eagle, which, however, has but one wing, for, as it mournfully observes, ‘My _left_ wing has entirely disappeared.’ The Emperor, whose crown and sceptre have fallen from him, clutches the bird round the neck, exclaiming: ‘Sauve qui peut--the Devil take the hindmost--Run, my boys, your Emperor leads the way--My dear eagle, only conduct me safe to Paris this time, as you did from Moscow and Leipsig, and I’ll never trouble you again--Oh! d--n that Wellington!’

The middle picture shows Napoleon in the stern gallery of the ‘Bellerophon,’ talking to John Bull, who sits by his fireside placidly smoking his pipe as usual. Says the ex-Emperor: ‘My most powerful and generous enemy, how do you do? I come, like Themistocles, to seat myself upon your hearth--I am very glad to see you.’ John Bull replies: ‘So am I glad to see you Mr. Boney, but I’ll be d--d if you sit upon my hearth, or any part of my house--it has cost me a pretty round sum to catch you, Mr. Themistocles, as you call yourself, but now I have got you, I’ll take care of you.’

The third is a sad one. Napoleon is at St. Helena, reduced to the sport of catching rats. Across his breast he wears a broad leather scarf, covered with brass rats, and sits moodily before a baited trap, into which the rats decline to enter. He thus soliloquises:--

Alas! that I who caught Imperial flats, Should now sit here to watch these scurvy rats. I, who Madrid, Berlin, Vienna, Moscow, took, Am doom’d, with cheese, to bait a rusty hook! Was it for this I tried to save my bacon. To use it now for Rats, that won’t be taken? Curse their wise souls! I had not half such trouble Their European brethren to bubble. When I, myself, was hail’d as Emperor Nap, Emperors and Kings I had within my trap: And to this moment might have kept them there, Had I not gone to hunt the Russian bear.

One of his suite sees a rat coming: ‘Ah! mon Dieu! Dere, your Majesty, dere be de vilain rogues--Ah, monsieur rat, why you not pop your nose into de trap, and let de august Emperor catch you?’ A female attendant, with a slice of bacon on a fork, says, ‘Will your Majesty be please to try dis bit of bacon? Ah! de cunning rascal! Dere! ma foi! he sniff at de bacon.’

‘General Sans Pareil’ (September 1, 1815) is an extremely elaborate picture, far too much so for reproduction; therefore it will be better to give the description at the foot of the figure: ‘The above Portrait of Buonaparte, may be considered as an emblematical Index of his extraordinary Life. The Design reflects the highest credit on the Artist, who is a Frenchman: he has judiciously formed the Hat of the different _Crowns_ which Buonaparte placed on other Men’s _Heads_. The position of the forefinger and thumb are particularly deserving of notice, with the words _Moreau_ and _Pichegru_ on them, indicating that _Moreau_ was his guide or _finger-post_ to all his victories; and the word _Pichegru_ being on his thumb, is meant to imply that he always had him in view as being one great obstacle to his rising greatness; while in the other hand he holds a nooze, or rope, as the means of ridding himself of so formidable an enemy. The words on his Breast are the names of the different kingdoms he has overrun or conquered. His Waistcoat is ornamented with the figures of the different Kings he had made; the French call them “_La folie fabrique de sire_”: indicative, that while the dark clouds of despotism hung over Buonaparte’s empire, his Kings reflected their borrowed lustre; but when once the Sun of universal restitution darted forth its rays, they melted “like wax before the sun.” The artist has well contrived to put the little King of Rome, as a monkey, above the heads of the other Kings. The Bales and Casks of Goods, on his left thigh, denote the stoppage of Trade which his system of warfare had brought on the French People. The Beet root refers to the Decree issued for making Sugar of that plant, when he had lost all his West India Possessions. On his legs are represented Skulls, symbolic of Death, who accompanied him wherever he trod--His sword, which so often paralyzed the world, and conquered with a rapidity hitherto unknown, is placed in the form of a Comet or Meteor. Such is this brief and imperfect delineation of the above extremely curious and interesting Portrait.’

‘Boxiana--or the Fancy’ (artist unknown), October 1, 1815, shows the popular idea of the treatment Napoleon received. The gross, corpulent Prince Regent has thrown down his traditional three feathers, and is, like the ex-Emperor, stripped for the fight. Napoleon is on the ground, and the Regent is kicking him. A sweep has picked up one of the Prince’s feathers, and shows it to Napoleon’s backer, saying, ‘Master, I found a white feather.’ The backer calls out, ‘Foul! foul! by all the rules of honor! why even blackey cries shame.’ A negro, who is acting as bottle-holder, cries out:--

What, Ben, my big hero, is this thy renown? Is this the new go? Kick a man when he’s down! When the foe has knock’d under, to tread on him then, By the fist of my father, I blush for thee, Ben!

The Regent’s backer explains, ‘He’s only kicking, to try if there’s any honor there, Blackey.’ One of the spectators imagines that ‘Themistocles will be well treated if we can find any honor in him!’ Another says, ‘Or we must send Themistocles to acquire honor at Botany.’

A French spectator turns to an Englishman, saying, ‘Ah, je vois, you be de Jentelman! n’est ce pas bien Sauvage, Sare?’ The reply is, ‘Bien shove a----e No, d----e! mounseer, I think it more like kicking than shoving.’ Another astonished looker-on exclaims, ‘Vy, Charly, vot sort of a go d’you call this?’ And a Frenchman advises his defeated champion, ‘Vy you no go to de Russia, you only get little squeeze.’