Secret History of the Court of England, from the Accession of George the Third to the Death of George the Fourth, Volume 2 (of 2) Including, Among Other Important Matters, Full Particulars of the Mysterious Death of the Princess Charlotte

Part 7

Chapter 73,805 wordsPublic domain

Napoleon himself said of this governor, "I have had to do with men of all countries; I never saw any who had so bad a physiognomy, and a more execrable conversation. He writes with the intention of being amicable. That is a contrast to the ignoble vexations that are daily imagined. There is something sinister in all this." Without contradicting the repeated asseverations of Sir Hudson Lowe, that he only acted according to instructions, we must say, that any man of honour should rather have resigned his office than have executed them; for they were not only unnecessary to the security of Napoleon, but they were also ILLEGAL. But Sir Hudson did not possess moral courage; he was captious and mistrustful, and was not at all calculated for the delicate offices he had to perform; he created his own fears, and lost his understanding in endeavouring to foresee misfortune. Count Lascases thus writes of him:

"The noble-minded English beside us," says the Count, "as well as those who merely visited the island, used to say that our treatment would experience a great and blessed change when the new governor appeared, &c. &c. This new Messiah at length came; but, gracious God!--the word escapes involuntarily from my pen,--it was an executioner, a _gens-d'arme_, whom they had sent. On his appearance, every thing assumed a dark and gloomy aspect; every appearance of external respect, and all the forms prescribed by a due regard to decency, which had hitherto been observed, at once disappeared; every day since has been to us a day of greater pain and more insulting treatment; he has narrowed still farther the boundaries prescribed to us, and even endeavoured to interfere with our domestic economy; he has strictly interdicted all intercourse with the natives, and even prohibited all society with officers of his own nation; he has ordered our residence to be surrounded with ditches and palisades; he has increased the number of soldiers, and endeavoured to make prisons within prisons; he has surrounded us with objects of affright, and reduced us to close custody. The emperor remains almost always in his prison, and no longer leaves his apartment. The few audiences which he has given to that officer have been highly disagreeable and oppressive to him; he has put an end to them, and determined not to see the governor any more. 'I had just grounds,' he observed, 'to complain of the Admiral, though he had at least a heart; but this man has not even a vestige of the character of an Englishman, he is nothing but a low Sicilian _sbirro_.' Sir Hudson Lowe pleads the instructions of his minister in justification of himself, with respect to all these complaints; if this justification is well founded, his instructions are most barbarous; but he can bear witness, at the same time, that he endeavours to carry them into execution in a barbarous manner."

Count Lascases also felt so indignant at the treatment which his noble master experienced, that he reproached the governor, in no very measured terms, with his want of common humanity, and boldly asked him, "Do you or do you not wish to kill the emperor?" For this, and writing complaints to his friends, all his private papers were seized, and himself dismissed the island. The following farewell letter was written to him, on this occasion, by the emperor:

"MY DEAR COUNT LASCASES,

"My heart sensibly feels what you endure; torn away fifteen days ago from my presence, you were shut up during that period in secret, without my being able to receive, or give you, any news, without your having communicated with any one, French or English; deprived even of the servant of your choice.

"Your conduct at St. Helena has been, like your life, honourable, and without reproach: I love to tell you so.

"Your letter to one of your friends, a lady in London, has nothing in it that is reprehensible; you there pour forth your whole heart into the bosom of friendship. That letter is like eight or ten others, which you have written to the same person, and which you have sent unsealed. The commandant of this place, having had the delicacy to sift out the expressions which you confide to friendship, has reproached you with them. Latterly he threatened to send you away from the island, if your letters contained any more complaints against him. He has, by so doing, violated the first duty of his place, the first article of his instructions, and the first sentiment of honour. He has thus authorized you to seek the means of conveying the effusions of your feelings to the bosom of your friends, and of acquainting them with the culpable conduct of the commandant. But you have been very artless: it has been very easy to take your confidence by surprise.

"They were waiting for a pretext to seize your papers; but your letter to your London friend could not authorize a police visit to you; for it contains no plot, no mystery; it is simply the expression of a noble and frank heart. The illegal and precipitate conduct pursued on this occasion bears the stamp of a very base personal hatred.

"In countries the least civilized, exiles, prisoners, and even criminals, are under the protection of the laws, and of the magistrates. The persons appointed to guard them have chiefs, either in the administrative or judicial order, who superintend them. Upon this rock, the man who makes the most absurd regulations executes them with violence, transgresses all laws, and there is no one to restrain the excesses of his temper.

"They envelop Longwood with a mystery, which they would wish to render impenetrable, in order to conceal a criminal conduct; and this leaves room for suspecting the most criminal intentions!!

"By some rumours artfully spread, it was wished to mislead the officers, strangers, inhabitants, and even the agents who are said to be maintained by Austria and Russia in this place; doubtless, the English government is deceived in the same way by adroit and fallacious statements.

"Your papers, among which it was known that there were some belonging to me, have been seized without any formality, near my apartment, with a marked and ferocious exultation. I was apprized of this a few moments afterwards: I looked through the window, and saw that they were taking you away. A numerous staff was parading round the house; I could fancy I saw so many South Sea islanders dancing round the prisoners whom they were going to devour.

"Your society was necessary to me; you alone read, spoke, and understood English. How many nights have you sat up, during my fits of sickness! Yet I enjoin you, and, if need be, I order you, to request the commandant of this place to send you back to the Continent. He cannot refuse that, since he has no controul over you, but by the voluntary act which you have signed. It will be a great consolation to me to know, that you are on your way to more fortunate countries.

"On arriving in Europe, whether you go to England, or return home, dismiss the remembrance of the ills which they have made you suffer; boast of the fidelity which you have shewn me, and of the great affection which I bear you.

"If you should one day see my wife and my son, embrace them. For two years, I have not heard from them, directly or indirectly. There has been for six months in this place a German botanist who saw them in the garden of Schoenbrunn, some months before his departure; the barbarians have carefully prevented him from giving me any news from them.

"My body is in the power of the hatred of my enemies; they forget nothing which can glut their vengeance. They are killing me by inches. But the insalubrity of this devouring climate, the want of every thing that sustains life, will, I feel, put a speedy end to this existence, the last moments of which will be an opprobrium on the English character; and Europe will one day signalize with horror that crafty and wicked man[94:A], whom true Englishmen will disown as a Briton.

"As there is every reason to think, that you will not be permitted to come to see me before your departure, receive my embraces, the assurance of my esteem, and my friendship. Be happy.

(Signed) "NAPOLEON."

"_11th December, 1816._"

[94:A] Sir Hudson Lowe is, doubtless, the person here alluded to by the emperor; but he would not have dared to act as he did if such tyrannical and unfeeling conduct had been against Lord Castlereagh's approbation.

We might add many other proofs of the inhumanity exercised towards Napoleon, were it necessary to our purpose. Let our readers look over the writings of O'Meara, Lascases[94:B], and numerous other persons now living, both French and English, who bear the most heart-rending testimony to all that was done to torture and to put an end to the life of this great man.

[94:B] Particularly his eloquent and manly "Appeal to the Parliament of Great Britain, on the case of the Emperor Napoleon."

The inhuman conduct pursued towards the captive emperor at length became the subject of parliamentary inquiry. A motion to this effect was introduced to the House of Peers by Lord Holland, in the month of March, 1817. Of the motives by which this noble lord was actuated, it is difficult to award sufficient praise. He declared, "My chief motive in bringing forward this motion is to rescue parliament and the country from the stain that will attach to them, if any harsh or ungenerous treatment has been used towards Napoleon." Such an anxiety for the character of his country was, doubtless, a patriotic and proper motive; but it never ought to claim precedence of the great, permanent, and universal feelings of pity for the unfortunate, which are among the noblest characteristics of our nature. His lordship, therefore, might have insisted more upon the merit of a motive to which, on all occasions, he has shewn himself to be eminently entitled. That the praiseworthy object of Lord Holland's motion was not attained must be matter of deep regret to every man who wishes to maintain the reputation of his country. But the ministers shuffled over the charge by reading partial extracts from those documents which his lordship wished to have produced, while they refused an examination of the entire papers. This, to say the least of it, had a very suspicious appearance. Such a mode of proceeding was contrary to the long-established usages of the House, to the laws of evidence, and to the common course of practice in all investigation; and, however it might answer Lord Castlereagh's purpose, was little calculated to dispel the doubts of impartial inquirers, or to make a satisfactory case to the world and to posterity. What judgment would a foreigner form of this matter, who might have heard the blessings of our happy administration of justice extolled to the skies? A captive, the most illustrious ever classed under that head, complained of the unnecessary rigour of his treatment. A British peer made a motion in parliament to inquire into the truth of these allegations, and for the production of papers connected with and tending to elucidate the subject. The secretary of state contended, that the assertions of the complainant were groundless, read partial extracts from the papers in question, but refused their entire production, and negatived the motion for them, without assigning any sufficient reason. If Lord Castlereagh thought the inference to be drawn from such a garbled statement would be favourable to his cause, he must have built his logic, not upon the REASON of the matter, but upon the VOTES OF HIS PENSIONED ADHERENTS,--a mode of conclusion not at all uncommon or unnatural to this minister. His lordship, indeed, considered his conduct to Napoleon as meritorious, on account of that great man having been the enemy of England! But does it follow that, because the uncertain events of war had placed the French emperor in a situation to claim the protection of our laws as a private individual, that his lordship was justified in betraying his misplaced confidence, or in treating him with the same spirit of hostility when he was a helpless captive, as when he was a powerful general arrayed in arms against the whole of Europe? A doctrine, more repugnant to humanity, more dangerous in its consequences to society, cannot be conceived. From what code of morality, or from what system of religion, did his lordship borrow such a principle? Much has been said of Lord Castlereagh's kindness of heart; but what a dark scroll of evidence does the treatment of Napoleon at St. Helena exhibit against such an assertion! To commiserate a fallen foe, to be moved by the sad spectacle of his fortunes, is the natural propensity and inseparable concomitant of every man possessing "PERSONAL COURAGE," or "KINDNESS OF HEART:"

"The truly brave Will valorous actions prize, Respect a great and noble mind, Albeit in enemies;"

while to oppress an adversary in your power, whether among nations or individuals, is not only considered _cowardly_, but abject, ungenerous, and savage. There is no circumstance which reflects so much disgrace on the national character of the Romans as their behaviour to Hannibal. The treatment which he received has been stigmatized as an act of complicated meanness, cruelty, and injustice. In modern times, the case of Napoleon seems most closely to resemble that of Hannibal, both in the splendour of his achievements while he was victorious, and in the sad similitude of fortune after his being defeated and betrayed into the hands of his enemies. It is true that Napoleon did not "play the Roman" and kill himself, as Hannibal did[97:A]; but a portion of the words which the Carthaginian general used on that occasion might have been aptly repeated by Napoleon, with merely an alteration of names: "The victory which Flamininus gains over a man, disarmed and betrayed, will not do him much honour. This single day will be a lasting testimony of the great degeneracy of the Romans. They have deputed a person of consular dignity to spirit up Prusias impiously to murder one who is his guest!" It is curious to reflect that, in the annals of the world, the same action, according to circumstances, at one time is a crime,--at another, an act of heroism! The same man is at one time a Claudius,--at another, a Marcus Aurelius. Cataline is but a vile conspirator. If, however, he had been able to found an empire, like Cæsar, he would have been esteemed a benefactor. Our Oliver Cromwell was acknowledged till his last hour, and his protection sought by all sovereigns; but after his death, his body was suspended on a gibbet: he only wanted a son like himself to enable him to form a new dynasty. So long as NAPOLEON was fortunate, Europe bowed at his footstool, while the first princes thought it an honour to ally themselves with his family, and to obtain his smile was esteemed a favour. As soon, however, as he fell a prey to treachery, it was pretended that he was nothing more than a miserable adventurer, an usurper, without talent and without courage!

[97:A] Plutarch assigns him three different deaths; but Livy tells us, that Hannibal drank poison, which he always carried about with him, in case he should be taken by surprise.

But, even allowing that any sufficient argument could have been urged for the detention of Napoleon, surely all restraint beyond what was strictly necessary for the security of his person was unjustifiable, and every species of mortification, not only ungenerous, but absolutely criminal. Lord Castlereagh ought, at least, in giving directions for his custody, to have been particularly circumspect that no real or seeming unkindnesses were exercised against the captive emperor. If the coercive measures adopted were thought necessary, they should have been introduced in a more conciliatory manner, and with every allowance for the irritation and impatience which exile and imprisonment will be sure to produce upon the most apathetic being in creation. But, when we take into consideration the ungentlemanly and ignoble proceedings pursued against Napoleon at St. Helena, can we feel surprised at the bursts of indignation which now and then escaped him at the cowardly conduct of his jailer? That he should have viewed Sir Hudson Lowe as the meanest creature in existence, is not at all to be wondered at; for it appeared as if

"Some demon said, 'Sir Hudson Lowe, Although we've got the dreaded foe, Yet here the question pinches: How shall we crush this mighty man?' Sir Hudson cried, 'I know the plan; We'll make him DIE BY INCHES!'"

Neither could Napoleon help considering Lord Castlereagh as the "demon" here alluded to. His lordship had induced him on board a British ship, under the most sacred promises of bringing him over to this country, that he might pass the remainder of his days under the blessings of our so-much-boasted constitution, as being "the envy and admiration of the whole world!" What milder appellation than "demon," therefore, did his lordship deserve, when, violating every principle of hospitality, he took advantage of Napoleon's faith in such promises, and seized upon the opportunity it afforded him of arresting the emperor as a prisoner of war, and of sending him to a barren rock, far from his wife, child, and friends, to be a prey to an unwholesome climate, and the rude insults of a mean and pitiful man like Sir Hudson Lowe!

"Great God of war, and was it so That Britons crush'd a fallen foe! Had Wellington been taken, (And there were chances on that day) Would Bonaparte have used his sway, And left him thus forsaken?"

Indeed, there was once a time when this same Lord Castlereagh might have been taken prisoner by Napoleon, which would most probably have been done, if the French emperor had possessed no loftier ideas of justice and honour than his lordship exhibited. This circumstance is related by Mr. O'Meara, in Bonaparte's own words, as follows:

"When Castlereagh was at Chatillon with the ambassadors of the allied powers, after some successes of mine, and when I had, in a manner, invested the town, _he was greatly alarmed lest I might seize him_ and make him _prisoner_. Not being accredited as an ambassador, nor invested with any diplomatic character to France, I might have taken him as an enemy. He went to Caulincourt, to whom he mentioned that _he laboured under considerable apprehensions that I should cause violent hands to be laid upon him_, as he acknowledged I had a right to do. It was impossible for him to get away without falling in with my troops. Caulincourt replied, that as far as his opinion went, he would say that I should not meddle with him; but that he could not answer for what I might do. Immediately after, he (Caulincourt) wrote to me what Castlereagh had said, and his answer. I signified to him in reply, that he was to tell Castlereagh to make his mind easy, and stay where he was: that I would consider him as an ambassador. At Chatillon, (continued Bonaparte) when speaking about the liberty enjoyed in England, Castlereagh observed, in a contemptuous manner, that it was not the thing most to be esteemed in England; that it was an USAGE they were obliged to put up with; but that it had become an abuse, and would not answer for other countries."

It will thus be seen that GRATITUDE, at least, ought to have prompted different conduct in Lord Castlereagh towards Napoleon; instead of which, the charges brought against Sir Hudson Lowe by Mr. O'Meara were not only deemed unworthy of inquiry, but his lordship actually dismissed the accuser from the British service. Thus a deserving and generous-minded officer was ruined, without even a hearing, for merely attempting to do an act of justice to the exiled Emperor of France! The charges against Sir Hudson Lowe, however, remained the same, and this summary mode of revenge inflicted on Mr. O'Meara was not at all calculated to acquit Lord Castlereagh from sharing in the accusation of wantonly oppressing Napoleon. Could any thing tend more to criminate his lordship than the sudden punishment of the accuser, while in the act of preferring his complaint? Grant that Mr. O'Meara had misconducted himself, and that he had thus given his employer a right to dismiss him, surely he ought not, in common honesty, to have done so till he had first given him every opportunity of making good his charges. His lordship's readiness to stigmatize, and even silence him, in this manner, wore any appearance but that of an honourable anxiety to meet and to defy his adversary. We cannot devote space sufficient to bring forward the charges of Mr. O'Meara; but the inquirer will find himself amply repaid for his trouble by their perusal. As Sir Hudson Lowe can only be looked upon as a cowardly ruffian, who scrupled not to _execute_ the orders of his superiors in office, however unjust they might be, the real odium of Napoleon's treatment and death must rest upon the government, of which Lord Castlereagh was the most active member. Mr. O'Meara was appointed medical attendant upon the emperor by this government, and his professional ability and private worth have never been questioned. If Lord Castlereagh, therefore, willed not the death of Napoleon, it was his duty to have removed those causes of complaint which Mr. O'Meara emphatically pointed out "would render Bonaparte's PREMATURE DEATH as inevitable as if it were to take place under the hands of the EXECUTIONER!" The public are aware how fatally this prediction was fulfilled; but the whole evidence of Mr. O'Meara would carry conviction to the mind of any man who had not previously determined to disbelieve truth. Indeed, he has been confirmed in many essential points of his statements by the admissions of either the governor's advocates or the governor himself. One of these advocates stated that Mr. O'Meara was discharged for disobeying orders; but of what nature were those orders? The governor wanted him to act as a spy upon the emperor, and to sign false reports of the state of his health! Consequently, Mr. O'Meara did indignantly refuse to perform such a base and cruel service; and what man of honour and principle would not have done the same? A refusal of this kind reflects no disgrace upon Mr. O'Meara, but will rather hand his name down to posterity as one deserving better treatment than he unfortunately experienced.