Napoleon (O'Connor 1896)/Chapter 9

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4275390Napoleon1896T. P. O'Connor

CHAPTER IX.

NAPOLEON'S LAST VOYAGES.[1]

Admiral Ussher was one of the many gallant Irishmen who have served the British Empire on sea. He took a prominent and a brave part in the naval engagements between England and France during the reign of Napoleon. In April, 1814, he was stationed off Toulon, and so he came unexpectedly to play a prominent part in one of the closing scenes of Napoleon's life. It was he who took Napoleon to Elba after the first abdication.

I.

AN ADVENTUROUS ENTERPRISE.

The narrative in which he described this great adventure is simple, straightforward, often sublimely and heroically unconscious. I cannot imagine anything more striking than the calm way in which the author describes what must have appeared, to any but a fearless man, a dare-devil and almost certainly fatal enterprise. As thus: On April 24th, 1814, he observed, at ten o'clock at night, a brilliant light in the direction of Marseilles, "which," he says, "I conjectured was an illumination for some important event." This was all he had to go upon, yet he made no hesitation as to his proper course; and here is what followed:

"Every sail was then set on both ships, and every exertion was made to work up the bay. At daybreak we were close off the land. All was apparently quiet in the batteries, and not a flag flying; nor were the telegraphs at work, which was uniformly the case on the approach of the enemy. Everything betokened that some great change had taken place. The morning was serene and beautiful, with a light wind from the south-ward. Eager to know what had happened, but above all anxious to hear (for who that has once experienced the horrors and miseries of war can wish for its continuance?) that peace had been restored, I sailed in toward the island of Pomégue, which protects the anchorage of the bay of Marseilles. To guard against a surprise, however, should such be attempted, I took the precaution of clearing the ship for action, and made signal to the Euryalus to shorten sail, that in the event of the batteries opening unexpectedly upon the Undaunted my friend Captain Napier, by whose judgment and gallant conduct I had on other occasions profited, might render me any assistance, in the event of my being disabled. We now showed our colours, and hoisted at the main a flag of truce, and the Royal Standard of the Bourbons, which the ship's tailor had made during the night. This flag had not been displayed on the French coast for a quarter of a century. Thus equipped, we were allowed to approach within gunshot, when we observed men coming into the battery, and almost immediately a shot struck us on the main deck. Finding it was not their intention to allow us to proceed, I gave orders to wear ship, and hauled down the flag of truce and standard. While wearing, a second shot was fired, which dropped under the counter. This unusual and unwarrantable departure from the rules of civilised warfare I resolved to notice in the only way such attacks ought to be noticed, and determined at once, in the promptest and most energetic way, to convince our assailants that under no circumstances was the British flag to be insulted with impunity. I therefore again wore round, and, arriving within point-blank shot of the battery, poured in a broadside that swept it completely, and in five minutes not a man was to be seen near the guns. It was entirely abandoned. I now made sail for a second battery, and by a signal directed the Euryalus to close, intending to anchor off the town. Shortly afterward, observing a boat with a flag of truce standing out of the harbour, I shortened sail to receive it. On coming alongside, I found she had on board the mayor and the municipal officers of Marseilles, who had come from the town to apologise for the conduct pursued by the batteries, intimating that it was an unauthorised act of some of the men. They informed me of the abdication of Napoleon."

What splendid rashness-this entrance into a great and well-guarded city with a single ship, simply because "I conjectured" there had been some "important event"!

II.

MARSEILLES AFTER THE ABDICATION.

However, fortune favoured the brave, and Captain Ussher soon had abundant evidence that the invader was welcome. I know few pictures which bring home to the mind so clearly the absolute horror and despair which Napoleon's career had at last produced, as that to be found in the pages of Admiral Ussher. The gallant officer landed, and here is what happened:

"Never did I witness such a scene as now presented itself, as, almost choked by the embraces of old and young, we were hoisted on their shoulders and hurried along we knew not whither. I certainly did not envy the situation of my friend Captain Napier, whom I saw most lovingly embraced by an old lady with one eye, from whom he endeavoured in vain to extricate himself, not using, I must say, the gentlest terms our language affords. In this way we arrived at the Hôtel de Ville, amid loud cries of 'Vive les Anglais!' We were received by our friends who had come with the flag of truce in the morning, but who were evidently not prepared for such a visit from us now. . . . They now politely requested us to wait upon the general in command. We found that officer attending High Mass at the cathedral, and it is hardly possible to describe his astonishment, and the excitement caused by seeing two British naval officers, in their uniforms, in the midst of the congregation. I went up to the general, who received me with much apparent cordiality, and with considerable tact (for we were at the time the greater 'lion' of the two) invited us to join the procession (I think it was that of the Virgin), for which preparations had been made, and which was about to set out from the church where we then were. The streets through which we passed were excessively crowded, so much so that it was with the utmost difficulty the procession could make its way at all. The predominance of old people and children among the crowd was remarkable. Commenting upon this to some of the municipal officers, I was told that this was caused by the conscription, which had swept off without distinction (like another plague) all the young men who were capable of bearing arms, causing indescribable misery not only here, but everywhere throughout France, Happy indeed were these poor people at seeing us among them, the harbinger of peace, which many of them had so long and ardently desired. That this was the prevailing feeling among them their whole demeanour amply testified, as with loud vociferations of 'Vive les Anglais!' they plainly told us that we were not unwelcome visitors."

It is well to always bring into relief the terrible consequences of Napoleon's campaigns in the decimation of the French population. People who, in despair at the divisions, the squalors, and the helplessness of French political life, sigh for the return of a great autocrat, always ignore this feature in the career of Napoleon. When somebody said that the picture of Napoleon still occupied a place in every cottage in the land, the obvious and just retort was made that if it had not been for Napoleon the place would have been occupied by the picture of the eldest son of the family, whom Napoleon had sent to premature and awful death.

III.

THE FALLEN EMPEROR.

From Marseilles Admiral Ussher went on to Fréjus, from which Napoleon was to embark for Elba. He found the fallen Emperor in "Le Chapeau Rouge," the small and solitary inn of the place.

"Napoleon was dressed in the regimentals of the Old Guard, and wore the star of the Legion of Honour. He walked forward to meet us, with a book open in his hand, to which he occasionally referred when asking me questions about Elba and the voyage thither. He received us with great condescension and politeness; his manner was dignified, but he appeared to feel his fallen state. Having asked me several questions regarding my ship, he invited us to dine with him, upon which we retired. Shortly afterwards I was waited upon by Comte Bertrand, who presented us with lists of the baggage, carriages, horses, etc., belonging to the Emperor. I immediately made arrangements for receiving them, and then demanded an interview with the several envoys of the allied Sovereigns, feeling that, being placed in a position of such peculiar responsibility and delicacy, it was necessary to hear from them the instructions they had received from their respective sovereigns that I might shape my conduct accordingly, and particularly that I might learn from them what ceremony was to be observed at Napoleon's embarkation, and on arriving on board the Undaunted, as I was desirous to treat him with that generosity toward a fallen enemy which is ever congenial to the spirit and feelings of Englishmen." Napoleon always kept a friendly recollection of Admiral Ussher; one can see in these sentences the origin of the feeling.

IV.

DEPARTURE FOR ELBA.

It was characteristic of the desire of France to get rid of Napoleon that Ussher was woke up at four o'clock in the morning after he had dined with Napoleon, "by two of the principal inhabitants," "who had come into my room to implore me to embark the Emperor as quickly as possible," intelligence having been received that the army of Italy, lately under the command of Eugène Beauharnais, was broken up; that the soldiers were entering France in large bodies.

These fears were not, apparently, altogether groundless, for Ussher observed that Napoleon "was in no hurry to quit the shores of France." Under the circumstances, Ussher was requested by the representatives of the Powers to gently force the Emperor to leave, and this he did with much combined firmness and tact:

"I demanded an interview, and pointed out to the Emperor the uncertainty of winds, and the difficulty I should have in landing in the boats should the wind change to the southward and drive in a swell upon the beach, which, from the present appearance of the weather, would in all probability happen before many hours; in which case I should be obliged, for the safety of His Majesty's ship, to put to sea again. I then took leave and went on board. . . . Napoleon, finding that it was my determination to put to sea, saw the necessity of yielding to circumstances. Bertrand was accordingly directed to have the carriages ready at seven o'clock. I waited on the Emperor at a quarter before seven to inform him that my barge was at the beach. I remained alone with him in his room at the town until the carriage which was to convey him to the boat was announced. He walked up and down the room, apparently in deep thought. There was a loud noise in the street, upon which I remarked that a French mob was the worst of all mobs (I hardly know why I made this remark). 'Yes,' he replied, 'they are fickle people;' and added: 'They are like a weathercock.' At this moment Count Bertrand announced the carriages. He immediately put on his sword, which was lying on the table, and said: 'Allons, Capitaine.' I turned from him to see if my sword was loose in the scabbard, fancying I might have occasion to use it. The folding-doors, which opened on a pretty large landing-place, were now thrown open, when there appeared a number of most respectable-looking people, the ladies in full dress, waiting to see him. They were perfectly silent, but bowed most respectfully to the Emperor, who went up to a very pretty young woman in the midst of the group and asked her, in a courteous tone, if she were married, and how many children she had. He scarcely waited for a reply, but, bowing to each individual as he descended the staircase, stepped into his carriage, desiring Baron Roller, Comte Bertrand, and me to accompany him. The carriage immediately drove off at full speed to the beach, followed by the carriages of the envoys. The scene was deeply interesting. It was a bright moonlight night, with little wind; a regiment of cavalry was drawn up in a line upon the beach and among the trees. As the carriages approached the bugles sounded, which, with the neighing of the horses, and the noise of the people assembled to bid adieu to their fallen chief, was to me in the highest degree interesting."

V.

NAPOLEON'S POWERS OF OBSERVATION.

Napoleon soon began to reveal that extraordinary power of observation, tenacity of memory, and mastery of detail which did so much to account for his greatness in war. "Nothing," writes Ussher, "seemed to escape his observation." When a question arose as to where the ship should anchor on the Corsican shore, Napoleon "proposed Calvi, with which he was perfectly acquainted, mentioning the depth of the water, with other remarks on the harbour, etc., which convinced me that he would make us an excellent pilot had we touched there." Talking to an English lieutenant who had been in charge of the transports that brought to Elba Napoleon's horses, baggage, etc., he "gave a remarkable proof of his retentive memory." Lieutenant Bailey informed him that after the Guards had embarked a violent gale of wind arose, with a heavy sea, which at one time threatened the destruction of the transports, and that he considered Savona a dangerous anchorage. Napoleon remarked that if he had gone to a small bay (I think it was Vado) near Savona, he might have lain there in perfect safety.

VI.

RULER OF ELBA.

The other quality of Napoleon which comes out most vividly from Ussher's narrative, was the facility with which he settled down to the work of governing his little island. Think of the awful strain through which he had passed for all these years, and especially in those which immediately preceded his overthrow, and then wonder at the vast power of recovery he showed when he was able to sit down for hours and discuss with an English naval officer the new flag which he was going to give to Elba! And when the time came for him to land, he went through the ceremony of taking possession of his little territory as imperially as though he were entering Paris. And immediately he set to practical work, as though the smallest affairs of this little kingdom were as much worthy of attention as even the world-stirring events in which he had been playing the principal part for nearly twenty years. Take this entry, for instance:

"May 5.-At four a.m. I was awakened by shouts of 'Vive I'Empereur!' and by drums beating; Napoleon was already up, and going on foot over the fortifications, magazines, and storehouses. At ten he returned to breakfast, and at two mounted his horse, and I accompanied him two leagues into the country. He examined various country houses, and gave some money to all the poor we met on the road. At seven he returned to dinner."

And, again, on May 6, the following day, we have a somewhat similar entry:

"Already he had plans in agitation for conveying water from the mountains to the city. It appears always to have been considered by him of the first importance to have a supply of good water for the inhabitants of towns, and upon this occasion it was evidently the first thing that occupied his mind, having, almost immediately after arrival, requested me to go with him in the barge in search of water."

And, again, watch him on May 7:

"May 7. Napoleon was employed visiting the town and fortifications. After breakfast he again embarked in the barge, and visited the different storehouses round the harbour."

And two final extracts will give an even better idea of how this marvellous creature could rise superior to the worst reverses of fortune. It is the entry under date May 9:

"May 9. This day I accompanied Napoleon to Longone, where we lunched amid repeated cries of 'Vive I'Empereur!' . . . Instead of returning by the same road, he turned off by goat-paths to examine the coast, humming Italian airs, which he does very often, and seemed quite in spirits."

And on the evening of the second day "he entered upon the subject of the armies and their operations at the close of the last campaign, and continued it for half an hour, until he rose from table. After passing into the presence-chamber, the conversation again turned on the campaign, his own policy, the Bourbons, etc., and he continued talking with great animation till midnight, remaining on his legs for three hours."

In this last scene Napoleon is quite himself. Everybody familiar with his character and demeanour will know that he was a tremendous talker. It was only on the battle-field that he maintained the immobile face and the sphinx-like silence which he believed necessary to maintain the morals of his army; in private he had all the excessive mobility, the great love of conversation, and the high powers of rhetoric which, came to him from his Italian blood.

VII.

THE VOYAGE TO ST. HELENA.

It will be seen that Napoleon made almost a conquest of the heart of Ussher, that he was treated still as a Royalty, and that accordingly the narrative of the British officer is sympathetic and even eulogistic. The other narrative that which describes the voyage to St. Helena is written in a very different spirit. Even those who do not love Napoleon cannot feel altogether pleased with the almost studied rudeness with which the fallen Emperor was treated on board the Northumberland. Here, for instance, is how Napoleon was treated on the question of cabin accommodation:

"The Admiral after this went into the after-cabin with some of the officers, and finding Bonaparte seemed to assume an exclusive right to this cabin, he desired Maréchal Bertrand to explain that the after-cabin must be considered as common to us all, and that the sleeping cabin could alone be considered as exclusively his. Bonaparte received this intimation with submission and apparent good-humour, and soon after went on deck, where he remained a considerable time, asking various questions of each officer of trifling import. He particularly asked Sir George Bingham and Captain Greatly to what regiments they belonged, and when told that Captain Greatly belonged to the Artillery, he replied quickly, 'I also belong to the Artillery.' After conversing on deck for some time, this ex-Emperor retired to the cabin allotted him as a sleeping cabin, which is about nine feet wide and twelve feet long, with a narrow passage leading to the quarter-gallery. The Admiral had a similar sleeping cabin on the opposite side. The after-cabin is our general sitting-room, and the fore-cabin our mess-room; the others of the party are accommodated below by the captain and some of the officers giving up their cabins, and by building others on the main-deck. Thus this man, who but a short time since kept nations in dread, and had thousands at his nod, has descended from the Emperor to the General with a flexibility of mind more easily to be imagined than described. He is henceforth to be styled General, and by directions from our Government, he is to have the same honours and respect paid him as a British General not in employ."

VIII.

A CAGED LION.

The picture of Napoleon at table is not inviting. It seems that he there preserved his bad manners to the end: "At six p.m. dinner was announced, when we all sat down in apparent good spirits, and our actions declared our appetites fully equal to those spirits. General Bonaparte ate of every dish at table, using his fingers instead of a fork, seeming to prefer the rich dishes to the plain-dressed food, and not even tasting vegetables. Claret was his beverage, which he drank out of a tumbler, keeping the bottle before him. He conversed the whole of dinner time. . . . After dinner he did not drink wine, but he took a glass of noyau after his coffee, previous to rising from table. After dinner he walked the deck, conversing principally with the Admiral. . . . After walking for some time he proposed a round game at cards, in compliance with which the Admiral, Sir George Bingham, Captain Ross, and myself assembled with General Bonaparte and his followers in the after-cabin, where we played at vingt-un [sic] (which was the game chosen by the Emperor) till nearly eleven o'clock, when we all retired to our beds."

I have given one specimen of the kind of petty humiliations to which Napoleon was exposed; here is another:

"He sat but a short time at dinner, and then went on deck, where he walked, keeping his hat off, and looking round steadfastly and rather sternly to see if the British officers did the same. However, as the Admiral, after saluting the deck put his hat on, the officers did the same (the Admiral having previously desired that the officers should not be uncovered), and thus not a British head was uncovered, at which he was evidently piqued, and soon retired to the after-cabin. His followers were constantly uncovered in his presence, and watched his every motion with obsequious attention. About eight p.m., General Gourgaud begged of us to join the vingt-un party, which the Admiral, Sir George Bingham, Captain Ross, and myself did, and played until about half-past nine, when Bonaparte retired to bed. During this evening he talked but little and appeared sulky; however, this produced no alteration in our manner toward him, neither was he paid more respect than any other officer present."

And here comes a delicious revelation of the difficulties with which human nature repressed itself in spite of violent political prejudices. I have italicised a sentence in this passage:

"His fellow prisoners are ever uncovered in his presence, and in speaking to him invariably address him either 'Sire' or 'Votre Majesté,' but the Admiral, as well as the officers, at all times addressed him as General. However, the difficulty of repressing the inclination to pay him marked attention is evident, and the curiosity of both officers and men in watching his actions is very easily perceived."

IX.

LIFE IN ST. HELENA.

In this narrative, as in that which I began, there is the same remarkable evidence of an almost complete recovery of spirits by Napoleon. There are constant entries to the effect that he seemed in excellent spirits, and spoke constantly to the Admiral. Sometimes he is spoken of as in "uncommonly high spirits," and sometimes, when he plays cards, he is one of as "noisy a group as ever assembled on such an occasion."

After his landing in St. Helena, his real decline of health and spirits began, and there is something saddening in the contrast between the comparative tranquillity, and even liveliness, of his spirits on board the vessel, and the beginning of that fight with not too chivalrous guardians, which broke him down and killed him at a comparatively early age. One of his susceptibilities was as to the presence near him of British soldiers.

Talking of Longwood House, this is what the narrator says:

"From the house you have a commanding view to the eastward of the sea and the shipping, and to the northward the camp of the 53rd forms a pleasing object in the foreground to any one except Bonaparte, who seems to loathe the sight of a British soldier, and at whose particular request great pains were taken to place the camp out of his sight. But this could not be done without giving up the very best situation for a camp."

Finally, Napoleon began to be even forgotten by the people among whom his lot was cast:

"Bonaparte leads a secluded life, few or none ever going near him, although no person of respectability has been refused a pass when asked for; but so little is he now thought of that his name is seldom or never mentioned, except on the arrival of a ship. Indeed, the inhabitants express so little curiosity that two-thirds of them have not yet seen him (although he has been to St. Helena eight months), nor do they ever seem inclined to go a hundred yards out of their way for that purpose. Even Mrs. Wilkes, the wife of the late Governor, although she was six months in the island after he arrived, went away without seeing him, whereas the curiosity of the passengers going home from India has almost exceeded credibility."

X.

NAPOLEON'S SELFISHNESS.

Finally, our bluff English observer is disgusted by Napoleon's selfishness in the small affairs of daily life, and this is his estimate of his character and manners:

"Greatness of mind or character, in my opinion, he does not possess, very frequently acting like a mere spoilt child. Feeling I consider him devoid of. Every religion is alike to him, and did I believe there existed such a being as an Atheist, I should say Bonaparte is that being. Of those about him, he seems neither to care nor feel for the privations they undergo from their blind and infatuated attachment to him, which many of his actions prove, and which the following circumstance, which occurred during the passage out, will show. Madame Bertrand had been confined to her cabin by serious illness for ten days or a fortnight. On her appearing in the cabin, we all congratulated her on her recovery. This was in the forenoon, and about two o'clock Bonaparte came into the cabin, and sat down to play at chess with General Montholon. At this time Madame Bertrand was below, but soon after made her appearance, seemingly to pay her devoirs to this once great man. Putting on one of her best smiles, she approached the table where he was playing, and where she stood by his side silent for some time, no doubt in anxious expectation of receiving the Emperor's congratulations, which would have amply repaid all sufferings she had undergone. But in this, disappointment alone was her portion, for he merely stared her steadfastly in the face, and then continued his game of chess without taking the slightest further notice. She, evidently piqued, quitted the table, and came over to the other side of the cabin, where she sat by me on the sofa until dinner was announced, when the Admiral, as he usually did, handed her to her seat. Even sitting down at table he took not the slightest notice of her, but began eating his dinner. During the dinner, missing the bottle of claret which usually stood before him, and Madame Bertrand, ever watchful of his motions, having handed him one which was near her, he very condescendingly exclaimed, 'Ah! comment se porte madame?' and then very deliberately continued his meal. This, and this alone, was all the notice the long and serious illness of his favourite drew forth."

It will be seen that these two narratives, though they cannot be described as inspired or luminous, are valuable additions to our knowledge of a man whose tyranny over the imagination and the interest of mankind Time seems to have no power of diminishing.

  1. "Napoleon's Last Voyages," the Diaries of Admiral Ussher and John R. Glover. (London: Fisher Unwin.)