Frederick Lewis Maitland, Esq.
Captain of H.M.S. Bellerophon.
15 July 1813.

THE
SURRENDER OF NAPOLEON

BEING THE
NARRATIVE OF THE SURRENDER OF BUONAPARTE, AND
OF HIS RESIDENCE ON BOARD H.M.S. BELLEROPHON,
WITH A DETAIL OF THE PRINCIPAL EVENTS THAT
OCCURRED IN THAT SHIP BETWEEN THE 24th OF MAY
AND THE 8th OF AUGUST 1815

REAR-ADMIRAL
SIR FREDERICK LEWIS MAITLAND, K.C.B.

A NEW EDITION
EDITED, WITH A MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR, BY
WILLIAM KIRK DICKSON

WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS
EDINBURGH AND LONDON
MCMIV
All Rights reserved

(p. v) NOTE.

After Sir Frederick Maitland’s death in 1839 his papers passed into the
hands of Lady Maitland, who liferented his property of Lindores in Fife
until her death in 1865. They then passed with the property to Sir
Frederick’s nephew, Captain James Maitland, R.N., and on his death to
his brother, Rear-Admiral Lewis Maitland, my father, from whom they came
to me.

The preparation of the present volume has been undertaken by Mr. Dickson
at my request.

FREDERICK LEWIS MAITLAND.

Lindores, December 9, 1903.

(p. vii) PREFACE.

“You are publishing a great and interesting national document…. The
whole narrative is as fine, manly, and explicit an account as ever was
given of so interesting a transaction.” So wrote Sir Walter Scott to
Captain Maitland after reading the manuscript of his Narrative of the
Surrender of Buonaparte. It is undoubtedly a historical document of the
first importance, not only as a record of “words by an eyewitness” of an
ever-memorable event, but as a vindication of the good faith of the
British Government in its conduct towards Napoleon.

In his Preface to the original edition, (p. viii) published by Henry
Colburn in 1826, Sir Frederick Maitland wrote:—

“Immediately after the extraordinary and interesting events took place
which are here recorded, I was, by the earnest solicitations of my
friends, induced to throw together the notes and memoranda in my
possession, of the proceedings in which I bore so prominent a part. I
was further led to undertake this task, so foreign to my usual
occupations, in consequence of the many misrepresentations that appeared
at that time, respecting the conduct of Buonaparte while on board the
ship I commanded, as well as my treatment of him.

“The following Narrative was then written solely for the private perusal
of my friends, and not with a view to publication, many reasons
combining, at that time, in my opinion, to render such a measure
inexpedient.

“I made it my study to state events exactly as they occurred, and, in
doing so, (p. ix) to avoid, as much as possible, all prejudice, either
against or in favour of the extraordinary man whom it was my fortune to
secure and bring to this country. 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.

“Although many of the causes for withholding my Narrative from the
public eye have long been removed, I had no intention of bringing it
forward, until by accident it fell into the hands of a most celebrated
literary character [Sir Walter Scott]. He (p. x) did me the honour, on
returning it, to express an opinion which I was not at all prepared to
expect, and so strongly to recommend its being published, that however
averse to appearing as an author, I have been induced, under the
sanction of such high authority, to present it to the public.”

The text and notes of the edition of 1826 have been reprinted verbatim.

Sir Walter Scott’s notes on the MS. of the Narrative are among the
papers at Lindores. They consist chiefly of verbal criticisms on Sir
Frederick’s original rough draft. Unfortunately it is no longer in
existence, and most of Sir Walter’s notes cannot be followed without it.
A few of his comments are printed as footnotes, in square brackets, and
a portion of his MS. is reproduced in facsimile at page 230.

A sketch of Sir Frederick’s life, chiefly based on the journals at
Lindores, has been prefixed to the Narrative.

(p. xi) The Appendix of the original edition has been printed, with an
additional Appendix, consisting of (1) a list of the officers serving on
board the Bellerophon in July 1815, supplied by the courtesy of the
Secretary to the Admiralty; (2) an unpublished letter from one of the
assistant-surgeons of the Bellerophon, giving an account of Napoleon’s
surrender, recently acquired by the British Museum; and (3) several
extracts from Memoirs of an Aristocrat, by a Midshipman of the
Bellerophon. This extraordinary book, published in 1838, was written by
George Home, son of Lieutenant A. Home, R.N., who on the death of the
last Earl of Marchmont claimed the Marchmont peerage. It contained
violent attacks on various persons connected with the family of Home of
Wedderburn, and in particular on Admiral Sir David Milne of Milne-Graden
and Lady Milne. An action was raised against the author and publishers,
and damages were awarded against the former. (p. xii) The book was
withdrawn from circulation, and is now extremely scarce. Home served as
a midshipman on board the Bellerophon, and his “hair-brained
narrative,” as he calls it, adds some interesting details to his
captain’s record.

The frontispiece is from a portrait of Sir Frederick, painted by Samuel
Woodford, R.A., and engraved by Henry Meyer. The original is now at
Lindores.

The portrait of Lady Maitland at page lxviii is from a miniature at
Lindores. This is the miniature which hung in the cabin of the
Bellerophon, and which was seen and commented on by Napoleon.

The chart at page 1 is a slightly reduced copy of that in the original
edition.

The portrait of Napoleon at page 68 is from a sketch made on board the
Bellerophon by Colonel Planat, officier d’ordonnance to the Emperor,
and given by him to Captain Maitland.

Mr Orchardson’s well-known picture is (p. xiii) reproduced at page 108,
by permission of the Fine Art Company. It contains portraits of most of
the chief personages of the story.

The picture of the Bellerophon at Plymouth at page 132 is reproduced,
by permission of the Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty, from the
original by J. J. Chalon, R.A., now in the Painted Hall at Greenwich.

As is mentioned at page 202 of the Narrative, Napoleon desired to
present Captain Maitland with a box containing his portrait set in
diamonds. On Maitland’s declining, in the circumstances, to accept any
present of value, the Emperor begged him to keep as a souvenir a tumbler
from his travelling case, bearing the crown and cipher of the Empress
Josephine. This relic is still preserved at Lindores. A photograph of it
is given at page 202.

W. K. D.

(p. xv) CONTENTS.

Page
MEMOIR OF SIR FREDERICK MAITLAND xxv

NARRATIVE.

[The summary of the contents of the Narrative given here
is that prefixed to the original edition. Sir Walter Scott’s
notes are printed at pp. 70, 84, 155, 165, 208, 223, 225, and
229.]

Captain Maitland sets sail in the Bellerophon, with
sealed instructions 1
He arrives off l’Isle Dieu. Proceeds off Rochefort 2
Reconnoitres the French ships of war under l’Isle
d’Aix 3
Is joined by the Cephalus 4
Captain Maitland hears of the victory of Waterloo.
On June 30 receives a communication, sent from
Bourdeaux within a quill, respecting the probable
flight of Buonaparte by sea 4, 5
Blockades Rochefort, Bourdeaux, and la Teste d’Arcasson 8
Destroys his prizes 9
A man and boy in a flat punt saved 10
(p. xvi) Captain Maitland watches the frigates at l’Isle d’Aix
closely 11
Receives Sir Henry Hotham’s instructions 12, 13, 14, 16
The Mouche schooner, with Savary and Las Cases
with a flag of truce, approaches the Bellerophon 21
Secret orders from Sir Henry Hotham 21, 22, 24
Letter of Count Bertrand, announcing Napoleon’s intention
of sailing to North America 26
The captain’s answer to Bertrand 29
Conversation with Savary and Las Cases 31
Receives private information by a row-boat 35
Captain Maitland guards the Mamusson passage 36
The white flag is hoisted at Rochelle 37, 38
The Bellerophon fires a royal salute 37
The French frigates appear ready to put to sea 38
English guard-boats continue to row near the frigates 38
British flag of truce, its colour 39
The Mouche schooner, with Las Cases and General
Lallemand, returns to the Bellerophon 39, 40
Communication delivered from Napoleon 42
Captain Maitland’s reply 42
Buonaparte stated to be at Rochefort, but is at l’Isle
d’Aix 44
Design for effecting the escape of Buonaparte in a
cask on board of a Danish vessel 45
Las Cases, with General Gourgaud, returns to the
Bellerophon 46
They bring an important letter from Bertrand 47
List of Napoleon’s suite 51
The Emperor’s letter to H.R.H. the Prince Regent 54
Captain Maitland promises to receive Buonaparte 56
Captain Sartorius is despatched to England, with a
letter from Captain Maitland, and with General
Gourgaud 58
Advice of Buonaparte’s wish to escape repeatedly
given 62
(p. xvii) July 15, Napoleon reaches the Bellerophon, in the
barge of that ship. He comes on board. His uniform
described 67, 68
Napoleon cheered by the crew of l’Épervier 69
His address to Captain Maitland 69
The ship’s officers are introduced to him 71
His small knowledge of English 72
He examines the Bellerophon 72
Conversations between Napoleon and Captain Maitland 73, 74, 75, 76, 90, 95, 106
Buonaparte’s naval opinions 73, 74, 77
Breakfast on board the Bellerophon 78
Rear-Admiral Sir Henry Hotham arrives off Rochefort.
His conference with Captain Maitland 79, 80
The Admiral comes on board the Bellerophon 81
Conversation at dinner 83
Buonaparte’s portable library and camp bed 82, 84
He breakfasts on board the Admiral’s ship 85, 91
Attachment for him evinced by the officers of his
suite 92, 228
The Bellerophon sets sail for Torbay 93, 96
Buonaparte speaks of Sir Sydney Smith 96
The passage to England described 98, 105, 107
Card-parties 99
The captain’s despatch to Lord Keith 100
His conversation with Countess Bertrand relative to
a portrait of Napoleon 103
Speaks with the Swiftsure, Captain Webley 104
Count Las Cases 107
English coast in sight 107
The Bellerophon anchors in Torbay 108
Buonaparte’s exclamation on viewing the shore 108
Admiral Lord Keith’s orders 109
English newspapers read by Napoleon 112
Observations of Madame Bertrand 114, 120
Persons refused admission on board the Bellerophon 115
(p. xviii) Lord Keith’s approval of Captain Maitland’s line
of conduct 116, 117
Concourse of spectators in boats 115, 118
Remarks of Buonaparte respecting the fishermen 119
The ships sail for Plymouth 119
Observations on the breakwater 121
Communications of civility interchanged between
Buonaparte and Lord Keith 117, 122
Lord Keith’s precautions 123, 125
Buonaparte complains of the guard-ships 127
The Lords of the Admiralty approve of Captain
Maitland’s proceedings 128
Napoleon’s letter to the Regent is forwarded 129
He is considered as a general officer 130
Orders received from the Admiralty 130
Sir Richard and Lady Strachan come alongside the
ship 131
Napoleon’s compliment on seeing Mrs Maitland 132
Admiral Lord Keith is introduced to Napoleon 134
Repugnance of the prisoners to their banishment to
St Helena 129, 134
Crowd of boats round the ship 135
Buonaparte’s habits on board ship 136
Bertrand, Savary, and Lallemand fear proscription 137, 140, 142
Buonaparte informed that he was to be sent to St
Helena 139
Sir Henry Bunbury visits him 140
He complains bitterly 141
He writes again to the Regent 142
Captain Maitland’s letter favourable to Savary and
Lallemand 145, 152
Buonaparte shows himself on deck 147
Countess Bertrand much agitated at the thoughts of
her husband going to St Helena 149
Lallemand is reproved by Captain Maitland 150
(p. xix) Buonaparte’s assertion that “he would not go to St
Helena” 148, 151, 164
Extravagant conversation of the attendant generals 151
Mr O’Meara 153
Countess Bertrand attempts to cast herself into the sea 153
Her retrospect of Buonaparte’s conduct 154, 156
Her impatience. She writes to Lord Keith 155
She is overheard by the generals 157
Buonaparte’s inquiries as to St Helena 158
Report of an attempt to escape 159
Rumour of an intention of serving a Habeas Corpus to
bring Buonaparte ashore 162
Ship prepared for sea 162
The Northumberland ordered to convey Buonaparte 162
The Bellerophon weighs anchor 164
Service of a subpœna on Buonaparte frustrated by
keeping the lawyer at bay 165
Note respecting writs of Habeas Corpus and subpœnas 165
Buonaparte again writes to the Regent 168
He keeps entirely to the cabin; prepares a protest 169
Buonaparte’s protest 170
He declares himself to be the guest of England, and
no prisoner 171
Captain Maitland’s observations thereon 174
Conversation on this subject with Count Las Cases 176
Buonaparte speaks of the Army of the Loire, and of
his party 178
Mr O’Meara requested by Buonaparte to become his
surgeon 179
The Northumberland in sight 180
Arms required to be delivered up 181
Lists of articles essential for the Trench officers and
ladies forwarded to Plymouth 182
Sir George Cockburn is introduced to Buonaparte 182
Buonaparte permitted to wear his sword 183
(p. xx) He requests an interview with Captain Maitland 183
He expresses his wish of living on a small estate in
England 185
He speaks in favour of Savary and Lallemand 185
Captain Maitland’s letter to Count Bertrand 186
Lord Keith’s order to the captain to deliver up General
Buonaparte and others 187
General Gourgaud 190
Countess Bertrand’s remonstrances 192
A misunderstanding and reconciliation 193
Napoleon returns thanks to Captain Maitland 194
He speaks with regard of Count Bertrand 195
Search of the baggage 196
The box of money temporarily taken charge of 197
Parting of Buonaparte with the captain 200
Buonaparte, accompanying Admiral Lord Keith,
quits the Bellerophon 200
Count Montholon’s polite intimation to Captain
Maitland 201
The captain declines the present of a portrait 202
Savary and Lallemand; their affecting parting with
Napoleon in the presence of Captain Maitland 203
The Northumberland sails for St Helena 204
Description of Napoleon Buonaparte 205
His manners and conversation 206
Anecdotes 207, 210, 215, 216
He speaks of his wife and his son 211
Their pictures 211, 212
Conversation respecting Kleber and Dessaix 213
Napoleon’s resources in money 214
The midshipmen act plays 217
Buonaparte’s observations on the British cavalry, and
relative to the Duke of Wellington 218, 219
Character of Count Bertrand 222
Countess Bertrand, a daughter of General Dillon 222
Savary, Duke of Rovigo, described 224
(p. xxi) Savary, Lallemand, and Planat are sent to Malta, and
allowed to go to Smyrna 225
Character of Lallemand 225
Count and Countess Montholon 226
Count Las Cases and his son 227

APPENDIX.

On what terms Captain Maitland received Buonaparte
on board his ship; and documents relating
thereto 231

ADDITIONAL APPENDIX.

1. List of officers borne on the books of H.M.S.
Bellerophon in July 1815 241
2. Letter from Ephraim Graebke, assistant-surgeon
on board the Bellerophon, to his mother, giving
an account of Napoleon’s surrender, dated
July 30, 1815 242
3. Extracts from Memoirs of an Aristocrat, by a Midshipman
of the Bellerophon [George Home] 246

(p. xxiii) ILLUSTRATIONS.

Portrait of Sir Frederick Maitland
Frontispiece
From an engraving by Henry Meyer, after
Samuel Woodford, R.A.
Portrait of Lady Maitland
lxviii
From a miniature at Lindores.
Chart of the Basque Roads 1
Portrait of Napoleon
68
From a sketch taken on board the Bellerophon
by Colonel Planat.
Napoleon on board the Bellerophon
108
From the picture by W. Q. Orchardson,
R.A., in the Tate Gallery.
H.M.S. Bellerophon at Plymouth
132
From the picture by J. J. Chalon, R.A.,
in the Painted Hall at Greenwich.
Tumbler given to Captain Maitland by
Napoleon
202
Photograph from the original at Lindores.
Facsimile of part of Sir Walter Scott’s
Notes on the “Narrative”
230
Photograph from the original at Lindores.

(p. xxv) MEMOIR
OF
SIR FREDERICK LEWIS MAITLAND.

The name of Sir Frederick Lewis Maitland has found a permanent place in
history as that of the captor of Napoleon. Apart from the rare piece of
good fortune which befell him in the Basque Roads in July 1815, his
distinguished career of public service entitles him to an honourable
place in the records of the British Navy.

He was the third son of Captain the Hon. Frederick Lewis Maitland, R.N.,
and was born at Rankeilour in Fife on September 7, 1777. His father,
Captain Maitland, was the sixth son of Charles, sixth Earl of
Lauderdale, grand-nephew of Charles II.’s famous minister, and was
godson to Frederick Lewis, Prince of Wales, the eldest (p. xxvi) son of
George II. He held various naval commands with distinction, served under
Rodney in 1782, and between 1763 and 1775 commanded the royal yacht. He
died in 1786, having been promoted rear-admiral just before his death.
Maitland’s mother, Margaret Dick, was the heiress of the family of
Makgill of Rankeilour. The estates of that family were ultimately
inherited by her eldest son, Charles Maitland.

Young Maitland entered his father’s profession at a very early age. He
served as a midshipman, first under Captain George Duff in the Martin
sloop-of-war, and afterwards with the Hon. Robert Forbes in the
Southampton frigate, in which he was present at Lord Howe’s great
victory off Ushant on June 1, 1794,—the “glorious First of June.” On
April 5, 1795, he was promoted to the rank of lieutenant, and appointed
to the Andromeda, of 32 guns. From the Andromeda he was removed to
the Venerable, the flagship of Admiral Duncan in the North Sea. In
April 1797 he went out to the Mediterranean to join Lord St Vincent.

St Vincent had been a friend of his father’s, and had promised to
promote him (p. xxvii) as opportunity should occur. The flagship had
her full complement of officers, so Maitland was appointed first
lieutenant of the Kingfisher, a brig mounting 18 six-pounders and
commanded by the Hon. Charles Herbert Pierrepont, afterwards Earl
Manvers. In her he was present at the capture of four French privateers.
With one of these, the Betsey, of 16 guns, a severe action was fought.
When the prize-money for her capture was distributed, the crew of the
Kingfisher subscribed £50 to present Maitland with a sword in
recognition of his conduct.

Pierrepont was promoted to post rank in December 1798, and appointed to
the Spartiate, one of Nelson’s prizes taken at the Nile. A few days
after his departure the Kingfisher, under Maitland’s command, was
leaving the Tagus, when she grounded on Lisbon bar and became a total
wreck. Maitland was tried by court-martial at Gibraltar, and acquitted
of all blame in connection with her loss. Immediately after his trial he
was appointed flag-lieutenant to Lord St Vincent.

On June 23, 1799, the French and Spanish (p. xxviii) fleets effected a
junction at Cartagena, and in the following month they retired from the
Mediterranean and took refuge in Brest. They passed the Straits of
Gibraltar on July 7, when Maitland had an adventure which is described
in Tucker’s Memoirs of Earl St Vincent.

“It is,” he says, “an as yet untold anecdote of the presence of mind and
courage of one of the highest-minded characters that ever adorned the
British Navy, the late Rear-Admiral Sir Frederick Maitland.

“At this period that gallant officer was Lord St Vincent’s
flag-lieutenant; and when the fleets were first descried, Johnny Gilpin,
as his lordship used to call him, was sent to order the Penelope, a
little hired cutter, to go, count, and dodge them. The lieutenant
commanding the cutter was found too ill to utter an order. But Mr
Maitland, well knowing his Chief, and that this was service which must
be done, at once assumed the command, and got the vessel under weigh. He
stood over to Ceuta. The night was so pitchy dark and so calm that the
cutter was unperceived by the enemy, and yet so close among them that
the words (p. xxix) of command in French and Spanish could be
distinctly heard. At daybreak she was about gunshot distance from the
whole Spanish fleet. When they saw her their admiral signalled a number
of launches to tow a brig of 14 guns to attack her, but on their arrival
within shot from the little Penelope, the reception she astonished
them with was so spirited that the enemy dropped astern again and
retired; and a faint hope of escape appeared, for, there being no wind,
the cutter’s boats were kept ahead all the forenoon, towing to the
southward. Then every ship in that mighty fleet, except one frigate,
actually turned their heads to the southward to give chase to the
cutter. But the frigate stood to the northward, and as the afternoon’s
westerly breeze got up, it brought her down under studding-sails near
the Penelope, before the air had reached her. When she was within
cable’s length, the frigate opened her broadside fire. Mr Maitland told
the cutter’s crew to lie down upon the deck till the frigate had
discharged all her guns. The men lay down very smartly; but when ordered
to rise, splice the top-sail braces, and get the vessel’s (p. xxx) head
about, not a man of them would stir. ‘Fighting,’ they said, ‘was not
their employ; they were not hired for it, and, should they lose a limb,
there was no provision for them;’ and thus the frigate now renewing her
fire, the little Penelope was taken.

“To the honour of the Spanish admiral it must be added, that, having
witnessed this bravery and heard that it was Lord St Vincent’s
flag-lieutenant that had displayed it, he sent Mr Maitland in a cartel
to Gibraltar, declaring him free without exchange.”

Tucker, who wrote in 1844, was not quite correct in saying that the
anecdote was “as yet untold.” It had been given long before in
Marshall’s Naval Biography. Marshall mentions, among other details,
that “the Penelope had on board a sum of money intended for Minorca,
which it was not deemed advisable to remove, under the pressing urgency
for her immediate departure from Gibraltar. When her crew found there
was no chance of escape from the combined fleets, they made an attempt
to plunder the treasure, which Lieutenant Maitland most honourably and
successfully (p. xxxi) resisted, alleging that as public property it
was the lawful prize of the captors.”

Lord St Vincent returned to England in August 1799, accompanied by
Maitland. On reaching Portsmouth he heard of an explosion of shells
which had taken place in May on board the Theseus, 74, resulting in
the death of her commander, Captain Ralph Willet Miller. A vacancy had
thus occurred in the Mediterranean before the admiral quitted that
station. He used his privilege as commander-in-chief and promoted
Maitland to the rank of commander in the Cameleon sloop-of-war, the
promotion to date from June 14. Maitland at once went out to join his
new ship, which was then on the coast of Egypt under Sir Sidney Smith.
After the signing of the convention of El Arish he was sent home with
despatches. He returned and regained his ship, in which he made several
captures.

On December 10, 1800, he was appointed by Lord Keith to the Wassenaar,
64. As she was then lying at Malta unfit for service, he obtained
permission to accompany Sir Ralph Abercromby’s expedition to Egypt.

(p. xxxii) The fleet anchored in Aboukir Bay on the 2nd of March 1801.
On the 8th, Abercromby effected a landing in face of a large and
strongly posted French force. To Maitland fell the duty of commanding
the armed launches employed to cover the landing. The enemy were driven
from their positions, and retired towards Alexandria with the loss of
seven guns. Abercromby at once followed them up, and advanced on the
neck of sand lying between the sea and the Lake of Aboukir, leaving a
distance of about four miles between the English and French camps. On
the 13th he again attacked the French, and forced them back upon their
lines before Alexandria. The right flank of the British force rested on
the sea, the left on the Lake of Aboukir, and the flanks were covered by
a naval flotilla, the boats on the sea being under Maitland’s command,
and those on the lake under that of Captain James Hillyar. Seven days
later Sir Sidney Smith, who commanded the naval battalion serving on
shore, received from a friendly Arab sheikh a letter informing him that
it was General Menou’s intention to attack the British camp next
morning. The news (p. xxxiii) was thought too good to be true, as in a
few days Abercromby would have been compelled to attack the lines of
Alexandria under every tactical disadvantage. It was, however,
confirmed, and on the 21st of March the battle of Alexandria was fought,
the fate of Egypt was decided, and Abercromby received his death-wound.
Maitland again covered the British right flank from the sea. In the
detailed plan of the battle given in Sir Robert Wilson’s History of the
British Expedition to Egypt, Maitland’s flotilla is shown a little to
the west of the ruins of Nicopolis, in a position to enfilade the French
attack. For his services on the 8th, 13th, and 21st Maitland received
the thanks of the naval and military commanders-in-chief, and on March
22, the day after the battle, Sir Sidney Smith wrote to Lord Keith
warmly commending Maitland’s conduct.

Maitland’s post commission was confirmed by the Admiralty on the day of
the battle of Alexandria. In the ensuing month he was appointed to the
Dragon, 74, and shortly afterwards to the Carrère, a French 40-gun
frigate taken near Elba. He remained (p. xxxiv) in command of her in the
Mediterranean till the Peace of Amiens.

The Carrère was paid off on October 4, 1802. Eleven days afterwards
Maitland was appointed by Lord St Vincent to the Loire, a fine 46-gun
frigate. War broke out again on May 18, 1803, and the Loire started on
a brilliant career of captures,[1] which included the 10-gun brig
Venteux, cut out from under the Isle of Bas by two of the Loire’s
boats, the Braave privateer, and the 30-gun frigate Blonde, captured
in August 1804 after a pursuit of twenty hours and a desperate running
fight.

An official letter written by Maitland in June 1805, gives us a vivid
glimpse of frigate service in the old days:—

Captain Maitland to Rear-Admiral Drury,
Cork.

Loire, Muros Road, Spain,
June 4, 1805.

Sir,—Being informed that there was a French privateer of 26 guns
fitting out at (p. xxxv) Muros, and nearly ready for sea, it struck me,
from my recollection of the bay (having been in it formerly, when
lieutenant of the Kingfisher), as being practicable either to bring
her out or destroy her with the ship I have the honour to command. I
accordingly prepared yesterday evening for engaging at anchor, and
appointed Mr Yeo, with Lieutenants Mallock and Douglas, of the marines,
and Mr Clinch, master’s-mate, to head the boarders and marines,
amounting, officers included, to 50 men (being all that could be spared
from anchoring the ship and working the guns), in landing and storming
the fort, though I then had no idea its strength was so great as it has
proved. At nine this morning, on the sea-breeze setting in, I stood for
the bay in the ship, the men previously prepared, being in the boats
ready to shove off. On hauling close round the point of the road, a
small battery of 2 guns opened a fire on the ship; a few shot were
returned; but perceiving it would annoy us considerably, from its
situation, I desired Mr Yeo to push on shore and spike the guns;
reminding the men of its being the anniversary (p. xxxvi) of their
Sovereign’s birth, and that, for his sake, as well as their own credit,
their utmost exertions must be used. Though such an injunction was
unnecessary, it had a great effect in animating and raising the spirits
of the people. As the ship drew in, and more fully opened the bay, I
perceived a very long corvette, of 26 ports, apparently nearly ready for
sea, and a large brig of 20 ports, in a state of fitting; but neither of
them firing, led me to conclude they had not their guns on board, and
left no other object to occupy my attention but a heavy fort, which at
this moment opened to our view, within less than a quarter of a mile,
and began a wonderfully well-directed fire, almost every shot taking
place in the hull. Perceiving that, by standing further on, more guns
would be brought to bear upon us, without our being enabled to near the
fort so much as I wished, I ordered the helm to be put down; and when,
from the way she had, we had gained an advantageous position, anchored
with a spring, and commenced firing. Although I have but little doubt
that, before long, we should have silenced the fort, yet, from the
(p. xxxvii) specimen they gave us, and being completely embrasured, it
must have cost us many lives, and caused great injury to the ship, had
not Mr Yeo’s gallantry and good conduct soon put an end to their fire.

I must now revert to him and the party under his command. Having landed
under the small battery on the point, it was instantly abandoned; but
hardly had he time to spike the guns, when, at the distance of a quarter
of a mile, he perceived a regular fort, ditched, and with a gate, which
the enemy (fortunately never suspecting our landing) had neglected to
secure, open a fire upon the ship. Without waiting for orders he pushed
forward, and was opposed at the inner gate by the Governor, with such
troops as were in the town, and the crews of the French privateers. From
the testimony of the prisoners as well as our own men, it appears that
Mr Yeo was the first who entered the fort, with one blow laid the
Governor dead at his feet, and broke his own sabre in two. The other
officers were despatched by such officers and men of ours as were most
advanced, and the narrowness of the gate would permit to push
(p. xxxviii) forward. The remainder instantly fled to the further end
of the fort, and from the ship we could perceive many of them leap from
the embrasures upon the rocks, a height of above 25 feet. Such as laid
down their arms received quarter….

The instant the Union was displayed at the fort, I sent and took
possession of the enemies’ vessels in the Road, consisting of the
Confiance, French ship privateer, pierced for 26 twelves and nines,
none of which, however, were on board; the Bélier, French privateer
brig, pierced for 20 eighteen-pounder carronades; and a Spanish merchant
brig in ballast. I then hoisted a flag of truce, and sent to inform the
inhabitants of the town, that if they would deliver up such stores of
the ship as were on shore, there would be no further molestation. The
proposal was thankfully agreed to. I did not, however, think it
advisable to allow the people to remain long enough to embark the guns,
there being a large body of troops in the vicinity. A great many small
vessels are in the bay, and hauled up on the beach. None of them having
cargoes of any value, I conceive it (p. xxxix) an act of inhumanity to
deprive the poorer inhabitants of the means of gaining their livelihood,
and shall not molest them. On inspecting the brig, as she had only the
lower rigging overhead, and was not in a state of forwardness, I found
it impracticable to bring her away, and therefore set fire to her: she
is now burnt to the water’s edge. I cannot conclude my letter without
giving the portion of credit that is their due to the officers and men
on board the ship. They conducted themselves with the greatest
steadiness and coolness; and although under a heavy fire, pointed their
guns with the utmost precision, there being hardly a shot that did not
take effect…. It is but fair at the same time to state that, much to
the credit of the ship’s company, the Bishop and one of the principal
inhabitants of the town came off to express their gratitude for the
orderly behaviour of the people, there not being one instance of
pillage; and to make offer of every refreshment the place affords.

I am now waiting for the land breeze to carry us out, having already
recalled the officers and men from the fort, the (p. xl) guns being
spiked and thrown over the parapet, the carriages rendered
unserviceable, and the embrasures, with part of the fort, blown up.

I have the honour to be, &c.,

Fred. L. Maitland.

On June 27, 1805, the Common Council of the City of London voted him
their thanks for his distinguished conduct in Muros Bay. The Committee
of the Patriotic Fund at Lloyd’s presented him with a sword, and on
October 18 he received the freedom of the city of Cork in recognition of
his exertions for the protection of Irish trade.

In the following winter the Loire had a narrow escape. Marshall thus
describes the incident:—

“On the 13th Dec. 1805, the Loire, accompanied by the Alcmene
frigate, fell in with the Rochefort squadron, consisting of six sail of
the line, three frigates, and three corvettes. Maitland immediately sent
the Alcmene to the fleet off Brest, himself keeping company with the
Frenchmen. Being to leeward, and desirous of obtaining (p. xli) the
weather-gage, as the safest situation for his own ship, he carried a
heavy press of sail, and in the night of the 14th, having stretched on,
as he thought, sufficiently for that purpose, put the Loire on the
same tack as they were. About two A.M., it being then exceedingly dark,
he found himself so near one of the largest ships as to hear the officer
of the watch giving his orders. As the noise of putting about would have
discovered the Loire’s situation, Captain Maitland very prudently
abstained from doing so, until, by slacking the lee braces and luffing
his ship to the wind, the enemy had drawn sufficiently ahead. At
daylight he had the satisfaction to observe them four or five miles to
leeward; and although he was chased both on that and the following day
by a detachment from the enemy’s squadron, he returned each evening and
took his station on the French admiral’s weather-beam, sufficiently near
to keep sight of them till the morning. During the night between the
16th and 17th, several large ships were seen to windward running down,
and which, on perceiving the Loire and those to leeward of her, made
such signals (p. xlii) as proved them also to be enemies. Captain
Maitland had now no alternative but to make sail in order to get from
between those two squadrons, the latter of which afterwards proved to be
from Brest.”

On November 28, 1806, Maitland was appointed to the Emerald, a 36-gun
frigate. During the whole of her commission he cruised with ceaseless
activity and made a very great number of captures. He was present with
Lord Gambier’s fleet outside Aix Roads in April 1809, when Cochrane made
his famous fire-ship attack on the French fleet. The Emerald was one
of the few ships which, on the 12th, were sent by Gambier, much against
his will, to support Cochrane in the Impérieuse. One can well imagine
that her gallant commander shared Cochrane’s indignation at seeing so
daring an enterprise shorn of its fruits by the weakness and
irresolution of their chief.

Maitland’s next appointment, dated June 3, 1813, was to the Goliath, a
cut-down 74. He commanded her for twelve months on the Halifax and West
India stations. Having been found seriously defective, she was paid off
at Chatham in October 1814. (p. xliii) In the following month Maitland
was appointed to the Boyne, then fitting at Portsmouth for the flag of
Sir Alexander Cochrane, commander-in-chief on the coast of America.

In January 1815 he was at Cork, and had collected a large fleet of
transports and merchant vessels bound for America. The fleet was ready
to sail, but was detained at Cove by a succession of strong westerly
winds. Before the wind changed the news came that Napoleon had escaped
from Elba.

Maitland’s orders were at once countermanded, and he was removed to the
ship with which his name will always be associated, the Bellerophon,
74. This famous old ship had fought on the First of June, at the Nile,
and at Trafalgar; she was now once more to render a conspicuous service
to the country.

She sailed from Plymouth with Sir Henry Hotham’s squadron on May 24,
1815. Her commander’s record of the memorable events which took place on
board her during the following weeks is in the reader’s hands, and
nothing more need be said of them here. Let it suffice to note that the
controversies (p. xliv) which have raged around the story of Napoleon’s
exile, and which have tarnished so many reputations, have left
Maitland’s without a stain. “My reception in England,” said Napoleon
himself to Maitland, as he bade him farewell in the cabin of the
Bellerophon, “has been very different from what I expected; but it
gives me much satisfaction to assure you, that I feel your conduct to me
throughout has been that of a gentleman and a man of honour.”

Up to this point the materials for Maitland’s biography are somewhat
scanty. After this his journal, preserved at Lindores, gives us a very
full record of his services.

In October 1818 he was appointed to the Vengeur, 74. She had been
intended to bear the flag of Rear-Admiral Otway on the Leith station. In
June 1819, however, she was ordered to join the squadron destined for
South America under the command of Sir Thomas Hardy—Nelson’s Hardy. The
squadron left Spithead on September 9, having on board Mr Thornton,
H.B.M.’s minister to Brazil.

The following year was spent on the South (p. xlv) American coast. In
the disturbed political condition of the Continent, the duties of the
British naval officers on the station were sometimes difficult and
delicate, as British ships and British subjects frequently got into
trouble with the forces of the revolted Spanish colonies. Maitland’s
time was spent chiefly at Rio de Janeiro. In 1807, when Napoleon’s
troops first appeared in the Tagus, the Portuguese Court had emigrated
to Brazil and had been there ever since. Maitland’s journal contains
many amusing notes—not always printable—about King John VI. and his
disreputable family. “The king is very fond,” he writes, “of comparing
himself to the Regent of Great Britain, and does it as follows: ‘His
father is mad, so was my mother. I was Regent, so is he. I am very fat,
so is he. I hate my wife, so does he.'” One anecdote which he tells of
the king “must,” he thinks, “raise him in the opinion of every British
subject. When the Count de la Rocca was Spanish Ambassador at the
Brazils, upon a rejoicing day the Portuguese ships were dressed with the
national flag at the main, the British colours at the fore, and Spanish
(p. xlvi) at the mizzen. The Count being at Court, drew the (then)
Prince to a window which commanded a view of the harbour, and said to
him, ‘I have to ask your Royal Highness to look at those ships. The
British colours are at the fore and my master’s at the mizzen
topmast-head. Were it only occasionally or alternately I should not
complain, but it is never otherwise, and I feel it my duty, considering
the close family connection that subsists between H.M. the King of Spain
and your Royal Highness, to represent it to you, as it hurts my feelings
in a manner I cannot express.’ The King of Portugal tapped him gently on
the shoulder and said to him, ‘I’ll tell you what, my friend, had it not
been for that flag and the nation to whom it belongs, neither your
master nor I would have had a flag to hoist at all.'”

That was true enough; still, the Portuguese were getting a little tired
of the British flag. The Peninsular War had made Portugal almost a
British dependency. Lord Beresford remained in command of the Portuguese
army after the peace, and many other important appointments were held
(p. xlvii) by English officers. The old monopoly of trade with Brazil
had been broken down in favour of the English, to the ruin of not a few
Portuguese merchants. These grievances, the continued absence of the
Court in Brazil, and the general misgovernment of the country, had
caused widespread discontent. Matters became critical after the outbreak
of the Spanish revolution in January 1820. In the spring of that year
Beresford went out to Brazil to lay the state of affairs before the
king, and to try to induce him to return to Portugal. The king would
neither go himself nor allow his son to go. On August 13, Beresford
sailed from Rio for Lisbon in Maitland’s ship, the Vengeur.

While she was crossing the Atlantic, revolution broke out in Portugal. A
military rising took place at Oporto on the 24th of August, and when the
Vengeur reached Lisbon on October 10, Maitland found that the Regency
had been deposed and a provisional Junta installed in the capital.
Beresford was absolutely forbidden to land, even as a private
individual, and was requested to leave the port without delay.
(p. xlviii) The provisional Government told him plainly that in the
existing state of public feeling they could not be responsible for his
safety if he came on shore. After remaining for nearly a week on board
the Vengeur in the Tagus, he went on to England in a packet-boat.

Maitland had expected to return to England, but at Lisbon he received
orders to proceed immediately to the Mediterranean on secret service. On
October 27 he reached the Bay of Naples, where he found a British
squadron of five ships under Sir Graham Moore.

Serious political trouble had arisen in Naples. After the fall of Murat,
Ferdinand IV. had been restored to his throne by the Congress of Vienna,
and in 1816 had assumed the title of King of the Two Sicilies. Under the
restored monarchy discontent had been steadily growing. There had been
no violent counter-revolution, but the interests of the country had been
sacrificed without scruple to those of the king’s friends, the swarm of
courtiers who had shared his ignoble exile at Palermo. The revolutionary
society of the Carbonari spread rapidly, alike in the army and in civil
(p. xlix) society. In Naples, as in Portugal, the Spanish revolution
brought things to a crisis. On July 2, 1820, a military outbreak took
place at Nola. This was followed by a general demand for a Constitution,
which the king was powerless to resist. On July 13 he took the oath to
the Constitution before the altar in the royal chapel.

A revolution in Naples would in all probability be followed by similar
uprisings in the Papal States. Metternich was seriously alarmed. A
conference of sovereigns and ministers to consider the affairs of Naples
was arranged to be held at Troppau, in Moravia, in October 1820. England
and France stood aloof from action, and the matter remained in the hands
of the Emperor of Austria, the Czar, and the King of Prussia. It was
resolved to invite King Ferdinand to meet his brother sovereigns at
Laibach, in the Austrian province of Carniola, and through him to
address a summons to the Neapolitans, requiring them, in the name of the
three Powers and under threat of invasion, to abandon their
Constitution.

(p. l) Ferdinand could not leave the country without the consent of the
Legislature. This was only given on his swearing to maintain the
existing Constitution. He did so with effusions of patriotism, and on
December 13 he embarked on board the Vengeur, Maitland’s ship, which
conveyed him to Leghorn. On reaching Leghorn he addressed a letter to
the sovereigns of the Great Powers repudiating all his recent acts. He
reached Laibach in due course; and the Congress which took place there
in January 1821 resulted in the restoration of absolutism at Naples and
the occupation of the country by the Austrians.

It was a curious coincidence that Maitland should within a few years
have had two sovereigns as passengers,—one the central figure of modern
European history, the other the good-natured elderly buffoon who in this
country is chiefly remembered as the husband of the friend of Lady
Hamilton. Maitland thus records the voyage:—

Naples Bay, Wednesday, Dec. 13, 1820.—A good deal of rain during the
night; in (p. li) the morning the wind to the east. A general order
came on board for the captains to attend the admiral in their barges,
for the purpose of attending the King of Naples off to the Vengeur,
dressed in full uniform, with boots and pantaloons; a note, likewise,
from the admiral telling me he intended to get the squadron under way
and see the King out of the bay, the Révolutionnaire forming astern of
the Vengeur, and he, with the five ships in line of battle, taking a
position on our weather quarter; and when he takes his leave each ship
is to pass under our stern, and there and then salute. The yards are to
be manned and the ships to salute, beginning when the Vengeur fires
her second gun. It is the intention of the French squadron to weigh also
and stand out. At three P.M. the King of Naples came on board in Sir
Graham Moore’s barge, attended by the admiral and all the captains of
the squadron except myself (as I stayed on board to receive him), and
all the captains of the French squadron. He was saluted and cheered by
all the ships except the Neapolitan, one of which manned her rigging,
but no salute was given. As (p. lii) soon as the King was on board,
unmoored, as did Révolutionnaire and Duchesse de Berri. Employed
beating out. At about ten P.M. the Révolutionnaire was on our
weather-bow when a thick heavy squall came on which blew the main
top-sail away. When the squall cleared away a little, I saw the
Révolutionnaire close to us on our lee-bow, off the wind and stemming
for us, and so near it was impossible the ships could clear each other.
It therefore became necessary to adopt the measure which would soften
the first blow as much as possible, and I ordered the helm to be put
down. When the ship came head to wind she struck the Révolutionnaire
just before the mainmast, slewed our cut-water right across, carried
away the jib-boom, spritsail yard, &c., and then backed clear of her. A
lad fell overboard from the Révolutionnaire and made a great noise,
which enabled us to send a boat and pick him up, he having got upon one
of our life-buoys. Got the runners up and the messenger through the
hawse-holes, and set them up with the top tackles, which enabled us soon
to make sail. Saw the Duchesse de Berri working out.

(p. liii) Dec. 14.—Strong breeze to the westward, with sea getting
up. Saw Révolutionnaire to leeward. On examination, found the
cut-water so much shook I determined to run on to Baia and secure the
bowsprit; made signal to prepare to anchor, and bore up little after 8
A.M. Anchored in fifteen fathom water. The Révolutionnaire was
examined also, when I found her mainmast was sprung; sent the master and
carpenter to survey the damage she had sustained, two or three of her
timbers being broke. They reported she might be put in a state to
proceed in two days. Sent Lieutenant Drewry up to the Admiral with a
letter giving an account of our disaster, and informing him I should
proceed as soon as the weather would admit of it, taking
Révolutionnaire with me if she was ready, otherwise directing him to
follow. Got an answer from him in the evening offering the King any
ship, even Rochefort (the flagship), if we could not proceed; and that
he had ordered Active down here, to be ready to relieve
Révolutionnaire if she could not go. In the morning, when the King
came out, he took hold of both my (p. liv) hands, squeezed them, and
shook them very heartily, saying, “I am infinitely obliged to you for
the way in which you manœuvred the ship last night, for had it not
been for your promptitude she must have been dismasted.” Dined with his
Majesty, who sent me an invitation, and took my place, by his direction,
at his right hand, in the way I used when Bonaparte was with me, and was
a good deal struck with the similarity of situation. On the King’s left
sat the Princess of Paterna, created by him Duchess of Floridia. She is
married to him, but does not assume the title of Queen, because she is
not of blood royal. She is an uncommonly handsome woman for her time of
life,—which the Prince of Babro tells me is very near fifty,—her
manners pleasing, and quite those of a woman of high rank. He seems much
attached to her, was particular in recommending good dishes to her, and
once or twice when he spoke to her took her hand, and shook and prest it
in a friendly affectionate way.

Baia, Dec. 15.—Strong gale, with very heavy squalls and showers of
rain. The (p. lv) King is, in my opinion, much better at an anchor here
than beating about the sea in a gale of wind. Employed securing the
bowsprit…. Dined with the King, who told us several anecdotes of his
sea excursions; and he really is a tolerably good sailor. In the evening
a deputation of the Parliament came on board to condole with his Majesty
on the accident that had befallen the ship, and to wish him a pleasant
voyage and a speedy return to his country. In the evening pointed the
yards to the wind…. While at dinner, H.M. sent out to have “Rule
Britannia” played by the band, and drank success to the British Navy
with three cheers.

Dec. 16.—In the morning the weather fine, with light wind W.S.W.
Unmoored ship…. Stood over towards Capri till half-past one, when we
tacked. The King told us at dinner he had been one of six who in seven
days killed nine thousand quails on Capri Island, where in the month of
May some years they come in millions…. Got round Ischia at 10 o’clock
P.M.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

(p. lvi) Leghorn Roads, Wednesday, Dec. 20.—Employed all night
beating into Leghorn Roads…. At eight, pratique boat came off and gave
us pratique, and soon after the Governor of Leghorn came to pay his
respects to the King, with a fine large barge. His Majesty soon got very
impatient to go on shore, and would hardly give us time to make the
necessary preparations for sending him out of the ship with due honours.
At half-past nine he left the ship, accompanied by the Duchess of
Floridia…. Saluted with twenty-one guns, and manned yards and cheered
him as he left the ship. I accompanied him on shore, and when about to
take my leave he asked me to dinner. I went, therefore, to the Grand
Duke’s palace, which is in the square; and when I got there the Marchese
di Ruffo soon arrived, and, desiring my company in another room,
produced the Order of St Ferdinand of the second class, and told me he
had the King’s sanction to present me with it; and when we were talking
about it his Majesty came into the room and put it over my neck, and
then led me by the hand and presented me to the Princess Paterna, when
(p. lvii) I returned my humble thanks to his Majesty, knelt, and kissed
his hand. The princess told me it was her intention to send by me
something as a present from her to my wife. The Marchese di Ruffo then
came in and told me he had something further to communicate, and took me
into the other room, when he gave me from his Majesty a remarkably
handsome gold snuff-box with his portrait on it,—a very good likeness,
set with twenty-four diamonds, some of them large, particularly four at
the corners. He gave me also two other boxes, one for Captain Pellew and
the other for the captain of the Fleur de Lis, and informed me he
meant to give 3000 ducats to the Vengeur’s ship’s company and 1500 to
each of the frigates. Dined with the King, and came off in the evening.

Dec. 21.—… To Franschetti the banker to obtain the money given by
the King of Naples to the ships’ companies; and after waiting a long
time and having a great deal of trouble with a very stupid old fellow,
we managed to get it from him…. Got my patent as Commander of the
(p. lviii) Order of St Ferdinand and of Merit, for which I had to pay
ten ducats as a fee to the secretary’s clerk,—a part of the ceremony I
did not bargain for, as the order cannot be of any use to me, there
being a rule against officers accepting of foreign orders except in
particular cases.

Dec. 22.—… At eleven the boats came off and brought all my traps,
and a small parcel from the Princess Paterna, containing a very handsome
gold necklace and bracelets, requesting I would accept them for her sake
and present them to my wife. His Majesty, as well as the princess, have
behaved to me in a most munificent way, having loaded me with favours
and marks of their affection, which I shall ever remember with the
warmest gratitude. As I have now done with the King of Naples, it may be
as well to say a few words of his person and habits. He is a tall thin
fair man, now seventy years of age, uncommonly robust and active for
that time of life, which may be attributed in a great measure to his
temperance and love of field-sports, which has been ever his ruling
passion, and often (p. lix) occasioned him to neglect the more imposing
and serious duties of a king. As a man, he must be liked by every one
who comes immediately in contact with him, as he is cheerful and
good-humoured, though not a man of much information. While on board the
ship he was generally up before daylight,—which at this season of the
year is not saying much,—took a cup of coffee and a bit of biscuit,—to
strengthen his stomach as he said,—and then said prayers, having two
friars and a priest with him. At noon he dined, when he ate a very
hearty meal, and drank about half a bottle of Neapolitan wine a good
deal diluted with water, and ate nothing for the remainder of the day.
In the evening he played picquet, and went to bed at eight or half
past….

The Vengeur returned to England in the spring of 1820, and Maitland
was appointed to the Genoa, guardship at Portsmouth, from which he was
superseded in October on the completion of his three years’ continuous
service on the peace establishment. The midshipmen of the Genoa
presented him with a sword as a mark of respect.

(p. lx) Then followed a period of rest. In 1816 he had bought from his
mother the estate of Lindores, near Newburgh, in Fifeshire, which had
been in her family since 1569. Here he now spent several years, chiefly
occupied in the improvement of the property. During the war he had made
some £16,000 out of prize-money, part of which was spent in building the
present mansion-house, overlooking the beautiful Loch of Lindores. In
the spring of 1826 he visited London to arrange for the publication of
the Narrative, which, after some fruitless negotiations with John
Murray, was accepted by Colburn on satisfactory terms.

On February 13, 1827, Maitland was appointed to the Wellesley, 74. In
December 1826, Mr Canning, in response to an appeal from the Portuguese
Regency, had sent English troops to Lisbon to protect the Government of
Portugal against the threatened attack of Spain. Maitland was ordered to
Lisbon, and the Wellesley spent the autumn and winter of 1827 in the
Tagus. After a spring cruise up the Mediterranean, she returned to
England in May 1828. On June 26 she again sailed (p. lxi) for the
Mediterranean, carrying the flag of Admiral Sir Pulteney Malcolm, who
was then going out to succeed Sir Edward Codrington in command of the
Mediterranean station. On August 24 she joined the squadron under
Codrington at Navarino.

Maitland remained in Greek waters for the next two years. The tragic
drama of the Greek Revolution, after seven years of horrors, had now
reached its final act. By the Treaty of London, in July 1827, England,
Russia, and France had undertaken to put an end to the conflict in the
East, and to establish the autonomy of Greece. In the following October
the battle of Navarino had been fought, and the Turkish fleet destroyed.
Ibrahim Pasha still held the fortresses of the Morea, which he was
shortly to evacuate under the pressure of a French army corps. In April
1828 war had broken out between Turkey and Russia.

Desultory fighting was still going on in Crete, which had been utterly
devastated by years of barbarous warfare. In October the Wellesley
went to Suda Bay, and most of the winter was spent by Maitland on the
coast (p. lxii) of Crete, endeavouring to bring about an armistice, and
superintending the blockade which the Powers had established in order to
prevent military supplies from reaching the Turks in the island. The
blockade was raised early in 1829; and during the following months
Maitland visited nearly every point of interest on the Greek coast and
in the Greek islands, as well as Sicily, the coast of Asia Minor, and
Constantinople. Like most Englishmen who have served in the Levant, he
developed a considerable respect for the Turk, and a quite unbounded
contempt for the Greek. After the armistice negotiations in Crete he
writes: “I found the conduct of the Turkish chiefs throughout manly,
straightforward, and sincere, while that of their opponents was very
much the reverse;” and in another place he writes of the Greeks that “a
more perfidious, ferocious, and cruel race does not exist.” Needless to
say he did not think much of “our pretty Greek Committee.”

In the summer of 1830 the Wellesley returned to England. Maitland
attained his flag on July 22, 1830. At the reconstruction of the Order
of the Bath in 1815 he (p. lxiii) had been made a C.B.; on November 17,
1830, he was advanced to be a K.C.B. In 1835 he received the Greek Order
of the Redeemer.

During his South American and Mediterranean cruises Maitland kept a very
full and interesting private journal. It reveals him to us as a man of
immense mental activity and power of observation, hard humorous
common-sense, and an almost Pepysian interest in all the doings of
mankind. Politics, archæology, cricket, theatricals, scandal, the terms
of a treaty, the menu of a good dinner, the armament of a foreign
frigate, the toilette of a pretty woman,—everything interests him, and
is observed, remembered, and noted in his diary. A few extracts have
been given; within the limits of this sketch they cannot be multiplied.
His account of the slave-market at Constantinople may serve as a
specimen of his power of picturesque description.

October 12, 1829.—… We then crossed the harbour, and went to the
slave-market. It is held in a small square, with some houses in the
middle, and on two sides (p. lxiv) of the square are small rooms, where
the slaves for sale are kept until their turn comes to be put up.
Adjoining the doors of these rooms or cells are raised platforms of wood
on which a number of black women and girls were sitting; and I saw a few
white ones inside. Outside these platforms are others, where the
purchasers or those intending to purchase slaves were placed; and
between the two platforms there is a passage three or four feet wide. At
another corner of the market there were some black men and boys, chained
by the legs to prevent their escaping, and among them we saw a very
good-looking respectably dressed young man, also in chains. We were told
he was a Georgian, but could not discover his history, though it is
probable that his master had died, and that he was sold in consequence.
He was smoking a pipe, and looked very disconsolate. A little after nine
o’clock, the chief of the market arrived, and the sale began. Two or
three black girls were first put up. A crier went round the square,
followed by the slave for sale, passing through the passage before
mentioned. When any person bids, the crier (p. lxv) goes on, calling
the sum bid, until some one bids higher, and continues calling till no
more is bid, when the slave becomes the property of the highest bidder.
There were three or four criers, with each a slave following them, going
round the bazaar at the same time. At last a very pretty-looking white
girl about sixteen years of age was put up for sale. Several bids had
been made before I discovered her; and when I came up to the place where
she was standing, Lambrino, the admiral’s interpreter, asked the crier
what sum was bid for her. He answered 1200 piastres; upon which the girl
turned round in a rage, and said to Lambrino, “You dog-faced fellow,
what is that to you?” and the interpreter being a little man, with high
shoulders and a face very much shaped like a dog’s, the girl’s remark
excited a general laugh. The crier, however, was by no means pleased at
the young lady for making such a display of her temper, as it was likely
to hurt her sale, and he therefore reprimanded her. They then passed on
along the passage and came to one of the divans, where a man about forty
was sitting smoking his pipe. He (p. lxvi) stopped the crier, and took
the girl by the hand, felt all up her arm to the shoulder, then drew her
a little nearer and opened her waistcoat, which exposed a beautiful
white bosom, and the effect seemed electric, for he immediately bid 1300
piastres, and after pulling down the lower part of her veil so as to
show the whole of her face, and looking at her teeth, he allowed the
crier to proceed. The girl had been angry at Lambrino, and seemed a good
deal distressed when the Turk was examining and handling her. I saw a
blush of either modesty or indignation cross her countenance; but the
instant the additional piastres were bid (whether from gratified vanity
or what other cause I cannot say, for these poor creatures are very
proud of bringing a high price) a smile of satisfaction beamed over her
face, and she marched off in apparent good humour. I had seen enough of
this horrid scene, and was tired of seeing a fellow-creature paraded
about and handled like a horse, therefore was rejoiced when the admiral
proposed we should leave it. Before we went away, a fellow, apparently
an Armenian, came up and said he had a (p. lxvii) handsome young Greek
girl for sale if we would like to see her. As, however, none of us under
any circumstances could have purchased her, we declined his offer….

A characteristic feature of Maitland’s diary is his constant reference
to his wife. He had married, in 1804, Catherine, second daughter of
Daniel Connor of Ballybricken, County Cork. They had only one child, who
died in infancy. Maitland loved his wife with lifelong devotion;
wherever the service called him, her picture hung in his cabin, and he
carried her image in his heart. Every letter she wrote to him is noted
in his journal; and it is full of references to her in words of devoted
attachment. Thus on the voyage home from South America in 1820 he
writes: “Crossed the equator at eleven o’clock at night, and we are once
more, Heaven be praised, in the northern hemisphere, which contains all
I love and delight in in this world, and every mile we go draws us
nearer to the sole mistress and possessor of my heart…. A more
affectionate, kind, attached wife no man on earth is blessed with than
myself.” He was (p. lxviii) bitterly disappointed when from Lisbon he
was ordered to the Mediterranean. As the ship passed Gibraltar he wrote:
“This was the day I had settled in my own mind that I was to arrive at
Portsmouth, and there meet the dearest and best of wives…. I had
expected this day to be the happiest of human beings, and now the event
that would make me so appears as distant as ever.” When he was at
Naples, Mrs Maitland appears to have fallen under religious influences
of the kind which often embitter family relations; and it is pathetic to
read the expression of her husband’s grief and anxiety lest the love
which was the chief joy of his life should be estranged. “I fear much,”
he writes, “I shall have to regret the longest day I have to live,
having left her in Scotland, instead of taking her abroad with me, as
she was in a nest of fanatical foolish women who have the madness to
believe they are inspired from above.” Happily the cloud soon passed,
and he notes the receipt of “one of her own dear affectionate kind
letters, such as she used formerly to write.” A little later comes the
joyful entry: “Bore up and made (p. lxix) sail, with a fine strong
Levant wind, which cleared us of the Gut of Gibraltar by noon; and I can
now look forward with confidence to meeting my beloved Kate in about two
weeks’ time.”

Lady Maitland

From 1832 to 1837 Maitland was Admiral Superintendent of the dockyard at
Portsmouth. In July 1837 he was appointed commander-in-chief in the East
Indies and China. He hoisted his flag on his own old ship the
Wellesley, now commanded by Captain Thomas Maitland, afterwards Earl
of Lauderdale, and sailed for Bombay on the 11th of October. Lady
Maitland accompanied him to the East.

When the advance from Bombay towards Afghanistan was made in 1838, it
was decided that a naval force should proceed along the coast to
co-operate with the troops. In January 1839, Maitland, in the
Wellesley, joined the squadron in the Indus, and was requested by Sir
John Keane, the military commander-in-chief, to “proceed to Kurrachee
and take it.” He arrived with his squadron before Kurrachee the 1st of
February, and sent a flag of truce, summoning the fort of Manora, which
formed the (p. lxx) chief defence of the town. The Baluchi garrison
refused all terms, and fired on the boats of the squadron, which were
engaged in landing troops. The Wellesley accordingly opened fire, and
soon reduced the fort to ruins and brought the commandant to terms. The
British flag was hoisted on the fort by Lieutenant Jenkins of the
Wellesley. The town also surrendered, and was occupied by the 40th
Regiment and the 2nd Bombay Native Infantry. The British Government thus
easily obtained possession of the chief port of the Punjab.

After the capture of Kurrachee, Maitland returned to Bombay, and thence
proceeded to Bushire, where difficulties had arisen with the Persian
authorities. At an interview with the Governor, the Admiral demanded
permission for himself and his officers to land and communicate freely
with the British Resident. The Governor agreed to this, but refused to
allow the Admiral to embark from the landing-place opposite the
Residency. Next morning, March 25, all the boats of the squadron, manned
and armed, proceeded to the shore to protect the embarkation of the
Admiral and other (p. lxxi) officers. The following account by an
eyewitness of what then took place is given in Low’s History of the
Indian Navy:—

“The Persians had assembled to the number of several hundreds, and the
Governor, with his body-guard, was determined to prevent, if possible,
the property being shipped before the Residency. The first boat which
approached the shore was fired upon, and one Persian had his musket
presented at Captain Maitland. He was just on the eve of firing, when
fortunately the Admiral and two Indian naval officers in a moment
wrenched it from his hands, and kept possession of the piece, which they
found loaded with a heavy charge. You may imagine how strongly inclined
the marines must have been to fire. The benevolent spirit of the
Admiral, however, would not allow it till the throwing of stones, and
continued firing from the Persians, called forth two volleys, which
caused the Persians to evacuate the breastwork. One was killed and two
wounded; their fire upon us, fortunately, did not injure any one, but
the Commodore and several other officers were struck with stones. After
this the (p. lxxii) Residency was put in a state of defence, Captain
Hennell (the Political Agent), had all the property conveyed as quickly
as possible on board the Wellesley, Elphinstone, Clive, and
Emily, and finally abandoned the Residency on the morning of the 28th,
when surrounded by four or five hundred armed Persians, composed of
Bushirees and Tungustanees, with Baukr Khan at their head…. And on the
morning of the 29th the Wellesley and the other vessels reached
Kharrack, bringing along with them the whole Residency establishment.”

On May 9, 1839, the Officiating Secretary to the Government of India
wrote to Maitland: “The Right Hon. the Governor-General highly applauds
the cordial and able assistance offered by the officers and crews of
H.M.’s and the Hon. Company’s ships, in the removal on board the ships
of the Resident and his suite from the Residency at Bushire,—an
operation which, but for their aid, might have been attended with
difficulty and danger.” Maitland was bitterly attacked by the
Anglo-Indian press for his forbearance on this occasion, which it was
said had lowered British prestige in (p. lxxiii) the eyes of the
Persians. It is possible that our relations with Persia might have been
improved by the slaughter of the Bushire mob by the Wellesley’s
marines, but apparently the Admiral thought otherwise.

The Bushire incident was followed by a cruise round the Persian Gulf, in
the course of which the Admiral had various interviews with the local
chiefs, and impressed upon them the necessity of keeping the peace and
respecting British interests.

It was his last service. He died at sea, off Bombay, on November 30,
1839. A letter from the late Admiral Philip Somerville,[2] then a
lieutenant on board the Wellesley, describes the closing scenes.

“On our arrival at Bombay, Nov. 3,” he writes, “the tents had not been
pitched more than a week or so, and the one fitted by the Government for
the Admiral was so very large that, after our arrival, he had to remain
for some days on board ship ere (p. lxxiv) it was ready. You may fancy
the state the ground was in after five months’ heavy rain,—the chill
and damp scarcely possible to describe,—evaporation of course following
the excessive heat of the day. A week had scarcely passed ere he felt
its effects, but he could say nothing. On the 15th November I dined with
him on shore. He seemed then tolerably well. On Sunday, 17th, he visited
the ship, and returned to his tent. On the 18th he dined with her
Majesty’s 6th Regiment, and complained a little that day. The 21st, he
was out to see our sailors and marines exercising. The complaint from
that time made rapid progress. Saturday, 23rd, Lady Maitland went to a
large party, but returned to the Admiral very early. Sunday 24th and
Monday 25th he was dangerously ill; 26th and 27th, rather easier.
Preparations were made for going to sea. On the 28th, the poor old
fellow was brought off and hoisted on board in a palankeen. I saw him
for a moment. Poor Sir Frederick lay with his head thrown back, his
mouth a little open, his cheeks sunk, and his whole frame totally
changed. He was conveyed to his cabin. We immediately (p. lxxv) got
under way. All gloom, and solemn silence prevailed. I daresay some at
least were in deep thought, some thinking of his former prosperity,
others of the money he had made; perhaps some thought of the happy and
honourable day on which Bonaparte surrendered. After lingering until
Saturday the 30th, at 11.45 he expired. One can scarcely conceive the
sensation caused by the mournful event. The countenances of all evinced
deep sorrow for their chief, a man who was looked up to by all who knew
him, and greatly beloved by those under his command….

“On Monday morning, preparations having been made the previous day, the
troops of the garrison and boats from the ships began to assemble. The
ship was painted black all over, and her yards topped in mourning. The
body was conveyed in his own boat, the barge, the other boats following
in order with their colours half-mast, presenting a very imposing sight.
On leaving the ship, minute-guns began; and on the corpse reaching the
shore, it was received with a guard of honour, and the fort commenced
firing minute-guns as we formed in procession. (p. lxxvi) The troops
had their arms reversed, and the same people who received the Admiral
that day fortnight at the dinner given by the 6th Regiment formed part
of the parade that sorrowful moment. They lined the road through which
we passed, and reached to the church. Here the body was received in the
usual way, and all the respectable attendants followed it into the
cathedral. The lesson was read by the officiating Archdeacon, and on
coming to the grave in the aisle of the church, the Bishop read the
service in a very affecting and solemn manner. After the ceremony we
returned to our respective ships.”

A monument to Sir Frederick’s memory was erected in Bombay Cathedral by
the officers of his command. “Among names,” writes Lieutenant Low in his
History, “which will ever be held in affection by the officers whose
record of service is now ‘as a tale that is told,’ that of Maitland, the
gallant and chivalrous seaman, to whom the mighty Napoleon surrendered
his sword on the quarter-deck of the Bellerophon, will ever be
prominent; and this record of his (p. lxxvii) worth and nobility of
character, and that other memorial on the walls of the Cathedral Church
of St Thomas, will testify to the grateful remembrance in which his
memory is held by the officers of the Indian Navy.”

Chart of Basque Roads

(p. 001) NARRATIVE

On Wednesday the 24th of May, 1815, I sailed from Cawsand Bay, in
command of His Majesty’s ship Bellerophon, and under the orders of
Rear-Admiral Sir Henry Hotham, whose flag was hoisted in the Superb. I
received sealed instructions, part of which were to be opened on getting
to sea, and part only to be examined in the event of my being separated
from the Admiral. Those which I opened contained directions to detain,
and send into port, all armed vessels belonging to the Government of
France.

(p. 002) On Sunday the 28th of May, we joined His Majesty’s ships Astrea
and Telegraph, stationed off Isle Dieu, on a secret service; and the
following day, three transports, under charge of the Helicon, arrived
from England, having on board arms and ammunition, to supply the
Royalists in La Vendée, for whose support and assistance I now found the
squadron, of which the Bellerophon formed one, was destined.

On Tuesday the 30th of May, I received orders from Sir Henry Hotham, to
take the Eridanus under my command, and proceed off Rochefort, for the
purpose of preventing a corvette from putting to sea, which, according
to information received by the British Government, was to carry
proposals from Buonaparte to the West India Colonies, to declare in his
favour. I had likewise orders to reconnoitre the Roadstead of Rochefort,
and report to the Admiral the number and state of the ships of war lying
(p. 003) there. Accordingly, on the 31st of May, I ran into Basque
Roads, and found at anchor, under Isle d’Aix, two large frigates, a ship
corvette, and a large brig, all ready for sea, which I afterwards
ascertained to be the Méduse, Saale, Balladière, and Épervier. Nothing
occurred worth mentioning until the 9th of June, when the Vésuve French
corvette came in from the northward, and got into Rochefort,
notwithstanding every effort to prevent her; the ships under my orders
having been driven to the southward, during the night, by a strong
northerly wind, accompanied by a southerly current. She was from
Guadaloupe, and immediately on passing the Chasseron light-house,
hoisted the tri-coloured flag.

On the 18th of June, I detained and sent to Sir Henry Hotham, the Æneas
French store-ship, commanded by a lieutenant of the navy, with a crew of
fifty men, loaded with ship-timber for the arsenal of Rochefort;
(p. 004) but he, being of opinion that she did not come within the
intention of the order, liberated her.

On the 21st of June, I detained and sent to the Admiral, under charge of
the Eridanus, the Marianne French transport, from Martinique, having on
board 220 of the 9th regiment of light infantry, coming to France to
join the army under Buonaparte. The Eridanus was sent to England with
her, and did not return to me, being employed on other service.

On the 27th of June, the Cephalus joined us, bringing with her the
declaration of war against France; after which we were employed several
days, taking and destroying chasse-marées, and other small coasting
vessels.

On the 28th of June, I received intelligence, from one of the vessels
captured, of (p. 005) Napoleon’s defeat at Waterloo; and on the 30th, a
boat came off from Bourdeaux, bringing the following letter, without
date or subscription, written on very thin paper in English, and
concealed within a quill. I give the contents verbatim.

Copy of a Letter received by Captain Maitland, of H.M.S.
Bellerophon, off Rochefort, on the 30th of June, 1815, without
date or subscription.

“With great degree of certainty, being informed that Buonaparte might
have come last night through this city from Paris, with the new Mayor of
Bourdeaux, with a view to flight, by the mouth of this river, or La
Teste, the author of the last note sent by Mr —— hastily drops these
few lines, to give the British Admiral advice of such intention, that he
may instantly take the necessary steps, in order to seize the man. His
ideas will certainly have brought him to think it natural, that the
British stations will be less upon their guard in this quarter (p. 006)
than any where else. The writer benefits by this opportunity to inform
the Admiral that, since the last note, some alteration has taken place
with regard to the troops spread in these two Divisions; in lieu of 800
to 1000 in this city, there are now 5000, which is supposed owing to the
intention of compressing the minds of this populace in this decisive
instant.

“It is supposed the British Admiral is already informed of the Grand
Army being totally defeated and destroyed, the abdication of Buonaparte,
&c. and the arrival of the allies near the Capital.

“An attempt should be made on this Coast, with no less than 8000 men
altogether. Immediate steps are wanted to put a stop to the supposed
flight.

“Should the attempt be made on the Coast from La Teste to Bourdeaux, an
immediate (p. 007) diversion should be made on this side; the success
is beyond any doubt.

“A sharp eye must be kept on all American vessels, and particularly on
the Susquehannah, of Philadelphia, Captain Caleb Cushing; General
Bertand and another goes with him. The two entrances of Bourdeaux and La
Teste must be kept close; a line or two is expected, on the return of
the bearer from the Admiral, or Chief Officer on the Station. As this is
writing, the news is spread generally, that the Duc de Berri and Lord
Wellington are in Paris.”

The note alluded to had been received, and forwarded unopened, to the
Admiral in Quiberon Bay.

Though my attention was called so strongly to Bourdeaux, or la Teste
d’Arcasson, as the parts of the coast from whence Buonaparte would
probably attempt to (p. 008) escape, it was my decided opinion that
Rochefort was much more likely to be the port where the trial would be
made. I therefore sent the Myrmidon off Bourdeaux, the Cephalus to
Arcasson, and remained with only the Bellerophon, off Rochefort. From
this period, until my return to England, the ship was never, by day or
night, more than three miles from the land. Considering it of much
importance to communicate the intelligence contained in the letter from
Bourdeaux, to my commanding officer, with as little delay as possible;
as I had no vessel left with me, after detaching the two ships under my
orders, I sent the Bellerophon’s barge, under the charge of a
lieutenant, with directions to endeavour to join some one of the
cruisers stationed off Isle Dieu. I gave him an order, addressed to the
Captain of any of His Majesty’s ships he might fall in with, to proceed
without loss of time, to join the Admiral in Quiberon Bay, with the
despatch accompanying it. (p. 009) This boat was fortunate enough to
fall in with His Majesty’s ship Cyrus, Captain Carrol; who, in
consequence, after hoisting in the barge, proceeded to Quiberon Bay.

As the coasting-vessels were not worth sending into port for
condemnation, (and considering the circumstances under which the ship I
commanded was placed, I should not have felt justified in weakening her
complement, even for a prize of value,) I was in the habit of using such
captures, as marks for the men to practice firing at. The Cephalus had a
chasse-marée in tow for that purpose, when the letter, inserted above,
was received; and I detached her so shortly afterwards, that Captain
Furneaux had no opportunity of destroying her, but was obliged to cast
her off. After he had left me some time, I observed the vessel drifting
to sea, and determined to run down and sink her. While approaching her
in this view. I was sweeping the horizon with my glass, (p. 010) when I
discovered, at a considerable distance, a small white speck on the
water, which had the appearance of a child’s boat with paper sails; but
I could plainly perceive something that had motion in it; and, after
firing on and destroying the chasse-marée, I stood towards the object
which had engaged my attention, and found it to be a small punt, about
eight feet long, flat-bottomed, and shaped more like a butcher’s tray
than a boat. In it were a young man about eighteen years of age, and a
boy about twelve, who had got into the punt to amuse themselves, and,
happening to lose one of their oars, were drifted to sea. They had been
thirty-six hours without refreshment of any kind, and with only one oar
and a bit of board, which they had formed into something like another;
they were quite exhausted with fatigue, and their hands very much
blistered. When we picked them up, there was a strong breeze blowing off
the land, so that there cannot be a doubt, (p. 011) had not Providence
sent us to their assistance, they must have perished. I kept the boys on
board two or three days, for the purpose of recruiting their strength,
and then landed them with the punt, close to their village, to the great
joy and wonder of their parents and countrymen.

On the first of July, we spoke a ship from Rochefort, the master of
which gave information, that the frigates in Aix Roads had taken in
their powder, and were in all respects ready to put to sea; also, that
several gentlemen in plain clothes, and some ladies, supposed to form
part of Buonaparte’s suite, had arrived at Isle d’Aix: in short, upon
the whole, that there was little doubt of its being his intention to
effect his escape, if possible, from that place, in the frigates. On
receiving this information, I anchored the Bellerophon as close to the
French squadron as the batteries would permit, kept guard-boats rowing
all night, and prepared (p. 012) my ship’s company for the description
of action in which I thought it was probable they would be engaged. I
trained one hundred of the stoutest men, selecting them from the
different stations in the ship; it being my intention, after firing into
and silencing one frigate, to run the Bellerophon alongside of her,
throw that party in, and then, leaving her in charge of the first
lieutenant, to have proceeded in chase of the other.

His Majesty’s ship Phœbe joined us this evening, and brought with her
the Bellerophon’s barge. Captain Hillyar having orders to take a station
off Bourdeaux, I recalled the Myrmidon from that service.

On the 7th of July, I received a letter from Sir Henry Hotham, together
with fresh orders, from which the following are extracts:—

(p. 013) Extract of a Letter from Rear-Admiral Sir Henry Hotham,
K.C.B., addressed to Captain Maitland of H.M.S. Bellerophon,
dated Quiberon Bay, July 6, 1815.

“It is impossible to tell which information respecting Buonaparte’s
flight may be correct; but, in the uncertainty, it is right to attach a
certain degree of credit to all: that which I now act on, is received
this morning, from the chief of the Royalists, between the Loire and the
Vilaine.

“Although the force of the Bellerophon would be sufficient for the ships
at Isle d’Aix, if they were to give you an opportunity of bringing them
to action together, you cannot stop them both, if the frigates separate;
I am, therefore, now anxious you should have a frigate with you:
therefore if any of them should be with you, keep her for the time I
have specified; but if you have no frigate, and this should be brought
to you by a twenty-gun ship, keep her with (p. 014) you for the same
time; she will do to keep sight of a French frigate, although she could
not stop her.

“If this is delivered to you by Lord John Hay of the Opossum, do not
detain him, as her force would be of no use to you, and I want him
particularly, to examine vessels which sail from the Loire.”

Extract of an Order from Rear-Admiral Sir Henry Hotham, K.C.B.;
addressed to Captain Maitland of H.M.S. Bellerophon, dated
Superb, Quiberon Bay, 6th July, 1815.

“Having this morning received information that it is believed Napoleon
Buonaparte has taken his road from Paris for Rochefort, to embark from
thence for the United States of America, I have to direct you will use
your best endeavours to prevent him from making his escape in either of
the frigates at Isle d’Aix; for which purpose you are, notwithstanding
former orders, to keep any (p. 015) frigate which may be with you, at
the time you receive this letter, in company with the ship you command,
for the space of ten days, to enable you to intercept them in case they
should put to sea together: but if you should have no frigate with you
at the above time, you will keep the ship delivering this, (which will
probably be the Slaney or Cyrus,) in company with the Bellerophon, ten
days, and then allow her to proceed in execution of the orders her
Captain has received from me.”

The Slaney brought the letter and order, parts of which are extracted
above, and having no frigate in company, I detained her as part of the
force under my command, though she was, on the 8th, sent down to the
Mamusson passage, with orders for Captain Green of the Daphne, and did
not return until the evening of the 11th.

On the 8th of July, I was joined by a (p. 016) chasse-marée bringing a
letter from Sir Henry Hotham, part of which is as follows:—

Extract of a Letter from Rear-Admiral Sir Henry Hotham, K.C.B.,
addressed to Captain Maitland, of H.M.S. Bellerophon, dated
Superb, Quiberon Bay, July 7, 1815.

“Having sent every ship and vessel out from this bay, to endeavour to
intercept Buonaparte, I am obliged to send the chasse-marée, which has
been employed in my communications with the Royalists, with this letter,
to acquaint you that the Ferret brought me information last evening,
after the Opossum had left me, from Lord Keith, that Government
received, on the night of the 30th, an application from the rulers of
France, for a passport and safe conduct for Buonaparte to America, which
had been answered in the negative, and, therefore, directing an increase
of vigilance to intercept him: but it remains quite uncertain where he
will embark; and, although it (p. 017) would appear by the measures
adopted at home, that it is expected he will sail from one of the
northern ports, I am of opinion he will go from one of the southern
places, and I think the information I sent you yesterday by the Opossum
is very likely to be correct; namely, that he had taken the road to
Rochefort; and that he will probably embark in the frigates at Isle
d’Aix; for which reason I am very anxious you should have force enough
to stop them both, as the Bellerophon could only take one, if they
separated, and that might not be the one he would be on board of. I have
no frigate to send you; if one should join me in time, I will send her
to you, and I hope you will have two twenty-gun ships with you. I
imagine, from what you said in your letter by your barge, that you would
not have kept the Endymion with you, especially as the Myrmidon would
have rejoined you, by the arrangements I sent down by the Phœbe for
Sir John Sinclair (p. 018) to take her place off the Mamusson;
therefore, I trust that my last order to Captain Hope will not have
deprived you of his assistance, but hope it may have put him in a better
situation than before. The Liffey is seventy or eighty miles west from
Bourdeaux, and the Pactolus, after landing some person in the Gironde,
goes off Cape Finisterre, where the Swiftsure is also gone; and many
ships are looking out in the Channel and about the latitude of Ushant.

“Buonaparte is certainly not yet gone; I presume he would naturally
await the answer from our Government, which only left London on the 1st;
my own opinion is, that he will either go with a force that will afford
him some kind of security, or in a merchant vessel to avoid suspicion.

“The orders from the Admiralty, received last evening, are, that the
ships which are looking out for him, should remain on that (p. 019)
service till further orders, or till they know he is taken, and not
regard the time of ten days or a fortnight, which they first named:
therefore you will govern yourself by that, and keep any ship you have
with you till one of those events occurs, without attending to the ten
days I specified in my letter to you by the Opossum yesterday, and make
the same known to any ship you may communicate with. The information you
sent me, which had been transmitted to you from Bourdeaux, is now proved
to have been erroneous, by our knowing that Buonaparte was at Paris as
late as the 30th of June, and that paper must have been written on the
29th, as you received it on the 30th. The Eridanus will not rejoin you;
she has been stationed, by Lord Keith, off Brest.

“Let me know by the return of the chasse-marée, particularly, what ships
you have with you, and where the other ships are, as far as you know,
and what position (p. 020) you keep in. If you had ships enough to
guard Basque Roads, and the Channel between Isle d’Oleron and the long
sand (where a frigate may pass), you would be sure of keeping them in,
by anchoring; but that would afford you little chance of taking
Buonaparte, which is the thing to be desired; therefore I think you
would be better off the light-house, where I dare say you keep yourself;
and on that particular subject I do not think it necessary to give you
any instructions, as I depend on your using the best means that can be
adopted to intercept the fugitive; on whose captivity the repose of
Europe appears to depend. If he should be taken, he is to be brought to
me in this bay, as I have orders for his disposal; he is to be removed
from the ship in which he may be found, to one of his Majesty’s ships.”

Nothing of consequence occurred on the 9th; but on the 10th of July, at
daylight, the officer of the watch informed me that a (p. 021) small
schooner was standing out from the French squadron towards the ship:
upon which I ordered everything to be ready for making sail in chace,
supposing she might be sent for the purpose of reconnoitring. On
approaching, she hoisted a flag of truce, and joined us at seven A.M.
She proved to be the Mouche, tender to the ships of war at Isle d’Aix,
and had on board, General Savary Duc de Rovigo, and Count Las Cases,
chamberlain to Buonaparte, charged with a letter from Count Bertrand
(Grand Maréchal de Palais) addressed to the Admiral commanding the
British Cruisers before the port of Rochefort.

Soon after the Mouche arrived, I was joined by the Falmouth, bringing me
a letter and secret orders from Sir Henry Hotham, some extracts from
which I shall insert for the better understanding what follows, previous
to entering into what passed with Buonaparte’s attendants.

(p. 022) Extract of a Letter from Rear-Admiral Sir Henry Hotham,
K.C.B., addressed to Captain Maitland, of H.M.S. Bellerophon; not
dated, but must have been written on the 8th of July, 1815.

“I sent a chasse-marée to you yesterday with a letter, and you will now
receive by the Falmouth, officially, the orders which I therein made you
acquainted with.

“I send you four late and very interesting French papers, by which you
will see all that has been done and said on the subject of providing for
Buonaparte’s escape from France: you will see that the Minister of the
Marine had been directed to prepare ships of war for that purpose; that
they were placed at Buonaparte’s disposal; and that two frigates in
particular had been provided for him: also that it was announced to the
two Chambers, that he left Paris at four o’clock on the 29th; likewise
that it was believed in Paris, he had taken (p. 023) the road by
Orleans to Rochefort; and I have no doubt that the two frigates at Isle
d’Aix are intended for him, and I hope you will think so too, and I am
sure you will use your utmost endeavours to intercept him. I am sorry I
have not a frigate to send you; I have literally none but the Endymion
under my orders. Captain Paterson is off Brest, by Lord Keith’s order;
and the Phœbe is also ordered to that station, when the Hebrus
arrives off the Gironde.

“The attention at home appears to be paid chiefly to the ports in the
Channel, but I have received no additional means whatever to guard those
of the Bay. I have long been expecting a frigate from the Irish station,
but none has yet appeared; and I have written to Lord Keith for two
frigates; but they cannot join me in time, I fear.”

(p. 024) Extract of an Order from Rear-Admiral Sir Henry Hotham,
K.C.B., addressed to Captain Maitland, of H.M.S. Bellerophon,
dated H.M.S. Superb, Quiberon Bay, 8th July, 1815.

“The Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty having every reason to believe
that Napoleon Buonaparte meditates his escape, with his family, from
France to America, you are hereby required and directed, in pursuance of
orders from their Lordships, signified to me by Admiral the Right
Honourable Viscount Keith, to keep the most vigilant look-out for the
purpose of intercepting him; and to make the strictest search of any
vessel you may fall in with; and if you should be so fortunate as to
intercept him, you are to transfer him and his family to the ship you
command, and there keeping him in careful custody, return to the nearest
port in England (going into Torbay in preference to Plymouth) with all
possible expedition; and on your arrival (p. 025) you are not to permit
any communication whatever with the shore, except as herein after
directed; and you will be held responsible for keeping the whole
transaction a profound secret, until you receive their Lordships’
further orders.

“In case you should arrive at a port where there is a flag-officer, you
are to send to acquaint him with the circumstances, strictly charging
the officer sent on shore with your letter, not to divulge its contents:
and if there should be no flag-officer at the port where you arrive, you
are to send one letter express to the Secretary of the Admiralty, and
another to Admiral Lord Keith, with strict injunctions of secrecy to
each officer who may be the bearer of them.”

Messrs Savary and Las Cases, who came on board, from the Schooner above
mentioned, at seven o’clock on the 10th of (p. 026) July, presented the
following letter to me:—

“Le 9 Juillet, 1815.

“Monsieur l’Amiral,

“L’Empereur Napoléon ayant abdiqué le pouvoir, et choisi les États Unis
d’Amérique pour s’y réfugier, s’est embarqué sur les deux frégates qui
sont dans cette rade, pour se rendre à sa destination. Il attend le sauf
conduit du Gouvernement Anglais, qu’on lui a annoncé, et qui me porte à
expédier le présent parlementaire, pour vous demander, Mons. l’Amiral,
si vous avez connoissance du dit sauf conduit; ou si vous pensez qu’il
soit dans l’intention du Gouvernement Anglais de se mettre de
l’empêchement à notre voyage aux États Unis. Je vous serai extrêmement
obligé de me donner là-dessus les renseignemens que vous pouvez avoir.

“Je charge les porteurs de la présente (p. 027) lettre de vous faire
agréer mes remercîmens et mes excuses, pour la peine qu’elle a pu vous
donner.

“J’ai l’honneur d’être,
Monsieur l’Amiral,
de Votre Excellence, &c. &c.
Le Grand Maréchal Ct^e. Bertrand.”

“À Monsieur l’Amiral commandant
les Croisières avant Rochefort.”

TRANSLATION.

“Sir,

“The Emperor Napoleon having abdicated the throne of France, and chosen
the United States of America as a retreat, is, with his suite, at
present embarked on board the two frigates which are in this port, for
the purpose of proceeding to his destination. He expects a passport from
the British Government, which has been promised to him, and which
induces me to send the present flag of truce, to demand of you, Sir, if
you have (p. 028) any knowledge of the above-mentioned passport, or if
you think it is the intention of the British Government to throw any
impediment in the way of our voyage to the United States. I shall feel
much obliged by your giving me any information you may possess on the
subject.

“I have directed the bearers of this letter to present to you my thanks,
and to apologise for the trouble it may cause.

“I have the honour to be,
Your Excellency’s most obedient, &c. &c.
Grand Marshal Count Bertrand.”

“To the Admiral commanding
the Squadron before Rochefort.”

The bearers of the letter had instructions to demand of me, whether I
would prevent Buonaparte from proceeding in a neutral vessel, provided I
could not permit the frigates to pass with him on board. Having
received, in my orders, the strictest (p. 029) injunctions to secrecy,
and feeling that the force on the coast, at my disposal, was
insufficient to guard the different ports and passages from which an
escape might be effected, particularly should the plan be adopted of
putting to sea in a small vessel; I wrote the following reply to the
above communication; hoping, by that means, to induce Napoleon to remain
for the Admiral’s answer, which would give time for the arrival of
reinforcements.

“H.M.S. Bellerophon,
off Rochefort, July 10th, 1815.

“Sir,

“I have to acknowledge the receipt of your letter of yesterday’s date,
addressed to the Admiral commanding the English cruisers before
Rochefort, acquainting me that the Emperor, having abdicated the throne
of France, and chosen the United States of America as an asylum, is now
embarked on board the frigates, to proceed (p. 030) for that
destination, and awaits a passport from the English Government; and
requesting to know if I have any knowledge of such passport; or if I
think it is the intention of the English Government to prevent the
Emperor’s voyage.

“In reply, I have to acquaint you, that I cannot say what the intentions
of my Government may be; but, the two countries being at present in a
state of war, it is impossible for me to permit any ship of war to put
to sea from the port of Rochefort.

“As to the proposal made by the Duc de Rovigo and Count Las Cases, of
allowing the Emperor to proceed in a merchant vessel; it is out of my
power,—without the sanction of my commanding officer, Sir Henry Hotham,
who is at present in Quiberon Bay, and to whom I have forwarded your
despatch,—to allow any vessel, (p. 031) under whatever flag she may
be, to pass with a personage of such consequence.

“I have the honour to be,
Sir,
Your very humble servant,
Fred. L. Maitland,
Captain of H.M.S. Bellerophon.”

“Le Grand Maréchal
Comte Bertrand.”

The Duke of Rovigo and Count Las Cases remained on board between two and
three hours, during which time I had a great deal of conversation with
them, on the state of affairs in France; in which they did all they
could to impress me with the idea that Buonaparte was not reduced to the
necessity of quitting Europe; but that, in doing so, he was actuated
solely by motives of humanity; being unwilling, they said, that any
further effusion of blood should take place on his account. They
declared also, that his party was still very (p. 032) formidable in the
centre and south of France, and that, if he choose to protract the war,
he might still give a great deal of trouble; and that, although his
ultimate success might not be probable, there was still a possibility of
fortune turning in his favour, and therefore they argued it was the
interest of England to allow him to proceed to America. To all this I
could give little or no reply, being quite ignorant of what had occurred
in France, further than the decisive victory obtained by the Duke of
Wellington at Waterloo. During the time the Frenchmen were with me, I
received some French newspapers from Sir Henry Hotham; but my time was
so fully occupied in writing to him, and in discussions with my
visitors, that it was not in my power to read them: I therefore drew
them back to the subject that had occasioned their visit, and said,
“Supposing the British Government should be induced to grant a passport
for Buonaparte’s going to America, what pledge could (p. 033) he give
that he would not return, and put England, as well as all Europe, to the
same expense of blood and treasure that has just been incurred?”

General Savary made the following reply: “When the Emperor first
abdicated the throne of France, his removal was brought about by a
faction, at the head of which was Talleyrand, and the sense of the
nation was not consulted: but in the present instance he has voluntarily
resigned the power. The influence he once had over the French people is
past; a very considerable change has taken place in their sentiments
towards him, since he went to Elba; and he could never regain the power
he had over their minds: therefore he would prefer retiring into
obscurity, where he might end his days in peace and tranquillity; and
were he solicited to ascend the throne again, he would decline it.”

“If that is the case,” I said, “why not (p. 034) ask an asylum in
England?” He answered, “There are many reasons for his not wishing to
reside in England: the climate is too damp and cold; it is too near
France; he would be, as it were, in the centre of every change and
revolution that might take place there, and would be subject to
suspicion; he has been accustomed to consider the English as his most
inveterate enemies, and they have been induced to look upon him as a
monster, without one of the virtues of a human being.”

This conversation took place while I was writing my despatches to Sir
Henry Hotham; and the Frenchmen were walking in the cabin, frequently
interrupting me, to enforce their statement of Buonaparte’s situation
being by no means so desperate as might be supposed; from which I took
the liberty of drawing a conclusion directly opposite to the one they
were desirous of impressing on my mind.

(p. 035) Captain Knight, of the Falmouth, who carried my despatches to
the Admiral, was present during the whole of this conversation, but did
not join in it. This was the first certain information I had received of
Buonaparte’s position since the battle of Waterloo.

Tuesday, the 11th.—About noon, a small boat came off from the Island of
Oleron, to where the ship was at anchor in Basque Roads, rowed by four
men, in which sat two respectable-looking countrymen, who asked for the
Captain; and upon my being pointed out to them, requested to speak with
me in private. When shown into the cabin, where I went accompanied by
Captain Gambier, of the Myrmidon, they acquainted me, that a message had
been sent from Isle d’Aix, early that morning, for a man who was
considered the best pilot on the island for the Mamusson passage, being
the only person that had ever taken a frigate (p. 036) through; that a
large sum of money had been offered to him to pilot a vessel to sea from
that passage, and that it certainly was Buonaparte’s intention to escape
from thence; either in the corvette, which had moved down some days
before, or in a Danish brig, which was then lying at anchor near the
entrance.

On receiving this information, I immediately got under weigh, and though
the flood-tide had just made in, beat the ships out of the Pertuis
d’Antioche before it was dark, when I sent the Myrmidon off the
Mamusson, with orders to anchor close in with the entrance, when the
weather would admit of it; while I remained with the Bellerophon and
Slaney, which rejoined me that evening, under weigh between the
light-houses.

On the 12th of July, the Cyrus being seen in the offing, I ordered her
by telegraph (p. 037) to take a position close in with the Baleine
light-house, and to examine strictly every vessel that might attempt to
put to sea from the Pertuis de Breton, as Buonaparte was on the spot,
endeavouring to escape to America.

The same evening, the white flag made its appearance for the first time
on the towers of Rochelle; on seeing which, I felt it my duty to run
into Basque Roads, accompanied by the Slaney; and having anchored, I
hoisted the Bourbon colours at the main-top-gallant mast-head, and fired
a royal salute. During the whole of this afternoon, however, two
tri-coloured flags were kept flying in Rochelle; and before sunset all
the white flags were struck, and every where replaced by those of
Buonaparte.

On the 13th of July, nothing of importance occurred, except the white
flag being (p. 038) once more hoisted all over Rochelle, as well as on
the Isle of Oleron, to the entire exclusion of the tri-coloured ensign.
We could plainly perceive, that the frigates, from whom we were distant
about three miles, were perfectly ready to put to sea, should an
opportunity offer; having their sterns covered with vegetables, their
top-gallant yards across, studding sail gear rove, and numerous boats
passing between them and the island the whole day:—all indications,
well known to professional men, of preparing for sea.

The ships under my command were accordingly kept with slip buoys on
their cables, and, as soon as it was dark, the top-sail and top-gallant
yards were swayed to the mast-heads, the sails stopt with rope yarns,
and every thing kept ready to make sail at a moment’s warning.
Guard-boats were also kept rowing all night, as near the frigates as
they could venture, (p. 039) having signals established to show in the
event of the enemy getting under sail.

On the 14th of July, at daybreak, the officer of the watch informed me,
that the Mouche was standing out from Isle d’Aix, bearing a flag of
truce, which I ordered to be accepted. Here it is necessary to mention,
that the British flag of truce, being a white flag at the
fore-top-gallant mast-head, which was also hoisted as a matter of course
when Buonaparte was received on board, has by some persons been
construed into the Bourbon flag, and thence into an intentional insult
to him. It never was my intention, nor do I believe it could have been
that of any British officer, to treat with insult any fallen enemy, much
less one who had shown such confidence as to throw himself on the
protection of his former foe.

When the schooner, the Mouche, reached (p. 040) the ship, Count Las
Cases came on board, attended by General Count Lallemand. This meeting
was highly interesting to me, as Lallemand had been a prisoner for three
weeks in the Camelion under my command in Egypt, with Junot, whose
Aid-de-Camp he then was; and General Savary, who accompanied Count Las
Cases in his first visit to the Bellerophon, had lived nearly as long at
Sir Sydney Smith’s table with me, at the Turkish camp at El Arish, when
the convention, which takes its name from that place, was under
discussion, being Aid-de-Camp to General Dessaix, who negotiated on the
part of the French.

On their coming on board, I made the signal for the Captain of the
Slaney, being desirous of having a witness to any conversation that
might pass, as our communications were chiefly verbal: he arrived while
we were at breakfast.

(p. 041) When Count Las Cases came on the quarter-deck, he informed me
that he was sent off to learn whether I had received an answer from the
Admiral to the letter he had brought off on the 10th instant. I told him
that I had not, but, in consequence of the despatch which I had
forwarded to him, I had not a doubt he would immediately repair here in
person, and I was hourly in expectation of seeing him, adding, “If that
was the only reason you had for sending off a flag of truce, it was
quite unnecessary, as I informed you, when last here, that the Admiral’s
answer, when it arrived, should be forwarded to the frigates by one of
the Bellerophon’s boats; and I do not approve of frequent communications
with an enemy by means of flags of truce.” I then went into the cabin
and ordered breakfast, to prevent further discussion until the arrival
of Captain Sartorius.

When breakfast was over, we retired to (p. 042) the after-cabin. Count
Las Cases then said, “The Emperor is so anxious to spare the further
effusion of human blood, that he will proceed to America in any way the
British Government chooses to sanction, either in a French ship of war,
a vessel armed en flute, a merchant vessel, or even in a British ship
of war.” To this I answered, “I have no authority to agree to any
arrangement of that sort, nor do I believe my Government would consent
to it; but I think I may venture to receive him into this ship, and
convey him to England: if, however,” I added, “he adopts that plan, I
cannot enter into any promise, as to the reception he may meet with, as,
even in the case I have mentioned, I shall be acting on my own
responsibility, and cannot be sure that it would meet with the
approbation of the British Government.”

There was a great deal of conversation (p. 043) on this subject, in the
course of which Lucien Buonaparte’s name was mentioned, and the manner
in which he had lived in England alluded to; but I invariably assured
Las Cases most explicitly, that I had no authority to make conditions of
any sort, as to Napoleon’s reception in England. In fact, I could not
have done otherwise, since, with the exception of the order inserted at
page 24, I had no instructions for my guidance, and was, of course, in
total ignorance of the intention of His Majesty’s ministers as to his
future disposal. One of the last observations Las Cases made before
quitting the ship was, “Under all circumstances, I have little doubt
that you will see the Emperor on board the Bellerophon;” and, in fact,
Buonaparte must have determined on that step before Las Cases came on
board, as his letter to his Royal Highness the Prince Regent is dated
the 13th of July, the day before this conversation.

(p. 044) During the above-mentioned conversation, I asked Las Cases
where Buonaparte then was? He replied, “At Rochefort; I left him there
yesterday evening.” General Lallemand then said, “The Emperor lives at
the Hotel in the Grand Place, and is now so popular there, that the
inhabitants assemble every evening in front of the house, for the
purpose of seeing him, and crying, ‘Vive l’Empereur!'”

I then asked how long it would take to go there: Las Cases answered, “As
the tide will be against us, it will require five or six hours.” Why
these false statements were made, I cannot pretend to say; but it is
very certain that Buonaparte never quitted the frigates or Isle d’Aix,
after his arrival there on the 3rd of July.

General Lallemand took occasion to ask me if I thought there would be
any risk of the people, who might accompany Buonaparte, (p. 045) being
given up to the Government of France: I replied, “Certainly not; the
British Government never could think of doing so, under the
circumstances contemplated in the present arrangement.”

They left me about half-past nine A.M. In the course of the day, I was
joined by the Myrmidon, Captain Gambier, who had been sent to me by
Captain Green, of the Daphne, with a letter he had received from Captain
Aylmer, of the Pactolus, in the Gironde, bringing information that it
was the intention of Buonaparte to escape from Rochefort in a Danish
sloop, concealed in a cask stowed in the ballast, with tubes so
constructed as to convey air for his breathing. I afterwards inquired of
General Savary, if there had been any foundation for such a report; when
he informed me that the plan had been thought of, and the vessel in some
measure prepared; but it was considered too hazardous; for had we
(p. 046) detained the vessel for a day or two, he would have been
obliged to make his situation known, and thereby forfeited all claims to
the good treatment he hoped to ensure by a voluntary surrender.

The two Captains dined with me, and afterwards went on board the
Myrmidon, to take up a position to the north-east of the Bellerophon, to
prevent vessels from passing close in shore, and thus to render the
blockade of the port more complete.

Soon after they left me, a barge was perceived rowing off from the
frigates towards the Bellerophon with a flag-of-truce up; on which I
recalled Captains Sartorius and Gambier, by signal, that they might be
present at any communication that was to be made. The boat got alongside
about seven P.M. and brought Count Las Cases, accompanied by General
Baron Gourgaud, one of Buonaparte’s Aid-de-Camps. On (p. 047) their
coming on deck, I immediately addressed Las Cases, saying, “It is
impossible you could have been at Rochefort, and returned, since you
left me this morning.” He replied, “No; it was not necessary; I found
the Emperor at Isle d’Aix, on my arrival there.” He then told me, he was
charged with a letter from General Bertrand. We walked into the cabin,
when he delivered it to me; it was as follows:—

“Le 14 Juillet, 1815.

“Monsieur le Commandant,

“Monsieur le Comte de Las Cases a rendu compte à l’Empereur de la
conversation qu’il a eue ce matin à votre bord. S. M. se rendra à la
marée de demain, vers quatre ou cinq heures du matin, à bord de votre
vaisseau. Je vous envoye Monsieur le Comte de Las Cases, Conseiller
d’État, faisant fonction de Maréchal de Logis, avec la liste des
personnes composant la suite (p. 048) de S. M. Si l’Amiral, en
conséquence de la demande que vous lui avez adressée, vous envoye le
sauf conduit demandé pour les États Unis, S. M. s’y rendra avec plaisir;
mais au défaut du sauf conduit, il se rendra volontiers en Angleterre,
comme simple particulier, pour y jouir de la protection des loix de
votre pays.

“S. M. a expédié Monsieur le Maréchal de Camp Baron Gourgaud auprès du
Prince Régent, avec une lettre, dont j’ai l’honneur de vous envoyer
copie, vous priant de la faire passer au Ministre auquel vous croyez
nécessaire d’envoyer cet officier général, afin qu’il ait l’honneur de
remettre au Prince Régent la lettre dont il est chargé.

“J’ai l’honneur d’être,
Monsieur le Commandant,
Votre très humble et très obéissant Serviteur,
Le Grand Maréchal,
Comte Bertrand.”

“À Monsieur le Commandant
des Croisières devant Rochefort.”

(p. 049) TRANSLATION.

“Sir,

“Count Las Cases has reported to the Emperor the conversation which he
had with you this morning. His Majesty will proceed on board your ship
with the ebb tide to-morrow morning, between four and five o’clock.

“I send the Count Las Cases, Counsellor of State, doing the duty of
Maréchal de Logis, with the list of persons composing His Majesty’s
suite.

“If the Admiral, in consequence of the despatch you forwarded to him,
should send the passport for the United States therein demanded, His
Majesty will be happy to repair to America; but should the passport be
withheld, he will willingly proceed to England, as a private individual,
there to enjoy the protection of the laws of your country.

(p. 050) “His Majesty has despatched Major General Baron Gourgaud to the
Prince Regent with a letter, a copy of which I have the honour to
enclose, requesting that you will forward it to such one of the
ministers as you may think it necessary to send that general officer,
that he may have the honour of delivering the letter with which he is
charged to the Prince Regent.

“I have the honour to be,
Sir,
Your very humble servant,
Count Bertrand.”

“To the Officer commanding the
Cruizers off Rochefort.”

(p. 051) List of persons composing the suite of Napoleon Buonaparte,
enclosed in the above Letter, and the manner in which they were
distributed during the passage to England.

Bellerophon.

Généraux.

Le Lieutenant Général Comte Bertrand, G^d. Maréchal.
Le Lieutenant Général Duc de Rovigo.
Le Lieutenant Général Baron Lallemand Aide de Camp de S. M.
Le Maréchal de Camp Comte de Montholon Aide de Camp de S. M.
Le Comte de Las Cases Conseiller d’État.

Dames.

Madame la Comtesse Bertrand.
Madame la Comtesse de Montholon.

Enfans.

3 Enfans de Madame la Comtesse Bertrand.
1 Enfant de Madame la Comtesse de Montholon.

Officiers.

M. de Planat, Lieutenant-Colonel.
M. Maingaut, Chirurgien de S. M.
M. Las Cases, Page.

(p. 052) Service de la Chambre.

M. M. Marchand 1 Valet de Chambre.
Gilli Valet de Chambre.
St Denis Valet de Chambre.
Novarra Idem.
Denis Garçon de Garderobe.

Livrée.

Archambaud 1 Valet de pied.
Gaudron Valet de pied.
Gentilini Id.

Service de la Bouche.

M. M. Fontain 1 Maître d’Hôtel.
Piéron Chef d’Office.
La Fosse Cuisinier.
Le Page Idem.
2 Femmes de Chambre de Madame la Comtesse Bertrand.
1 Femme de Chambre de Madame la Comtesse de Montholon.

Suite des personnes qui accompagnent S. M.

1 Valet de Chambre du Duc de Rovigo.
1 do. du Comte Bertrand.
1 do. du Comte de Montholon.
1 Valet de pied du Comte Bertrand.
Total 7.

(p. 053) Recapitulation.

Généraux 5
Dames 2
Enfans 4
Officiers 3
Service de la Chambre de S. M. 5
Livrée de S. M. 3
Service de la Bouche 4
Suite des personnes qui accompagnent S. M. 7
—
Total 33
—

La Corvette.

Officiers.

Le Lieutenant Colonel Resigni.
Le Lieutenant Colonel Schultz.
Le Capitaine Autrie.
Le Capitaine Mesener.
Le Capitaine Prontowski.
Le Lieutenant Rivière.
Le Sous Lieutenant S^te Catherine.

Suite de S. M.

Santini Huissier.
Chauvin Id.
Rousseau Lampiste.
(p. 054) Archambaud Valet de pied.
Joseph Id.
Le Charron Id.
Lisiaux Garde d’Office.
Ortini Valet de pied.
Fumeau Idem.

Recapitulation.

Officiers 7
Suite 10
—
Total 17
—

Enclosed was likewise a copy of the well-known letter addressed by
Buonaparte to His Royal Highness the Prince Regent.

“Altesse Royale,

“En butte aux factions qui divisent mon pays et à l’inimitié des plus
grandes puissances de l’Europe, j’ai terminé ma carrière politique, et
je viens comme Thémistocle m’asseoir sur le foyer du peuple Britannique.
Je me mets sous la protection de ses loix, que je réclame de votre
Altesse Royale, (p. 055) comme au plus puissant, au plus constant, et
au plus généreux de mes Ennemis.”

“Rochefort, 13 Juillet, 1815,
“Signé, Napoleon.”

TRANSLATION.

“Rochefort, July 13th, 1815.

“Your Royal Highness,

“A victim to the factions which distract my country, and to the enmity
of the greatest powers of Europe, I have terminated my political career,
and I come, like Themistocles, to throw myself upon the hospitality of
the British people. I put myself under the protection of their laws;
which I claim from your Royal Highness, as the most powerful, the most
constant, and the most generous of my enemies.

Napoleon.”

On reading the above, I told Monsieur (p. 056) Las Cases that I would
receive Buonaparte on board, and immediately forward General Gourgaud to
England by the Slaney, along with my despatches to the Admiralty; but
that he would not be allowed to land until permission was received from
London, or the sanction of the Admiral at the port he might arrive at
obtained. I assured him, however, that the copy of the letter with which
he was charged would be forwarded without loss of time, and presented by
the Ministers to his Royal Highness. Count Las Cases then asked for
paper, that he might communicate by letter to Bertrand my acquiescence
in the proposal he had brought, for my receiving, and conveying to
England, Buonaparte and his suite.

When General Gourgaud was about to write the letter, to prevent any
future misunderstanding, I said, “Monsieur Las Cases, you will recollect
that I am not authorised to stipulate as to the reception of Buonaparte
(p. 057) in England, but that he must consider himself entirely at the
disposal of his Royal Highness the Prince Regent.” He answered, “I am
perfectly aware of that, and have already acquainted the Emperor with
what you said on the subject.”

It might, perhaps, have been better if this declaration had been given
in an official written form; and could I have foreseen the discussions
which afterwards took place, and which will appear in the sequel, I
undoubtedly should have done so; but as I repeatedly made it in the
presence of witnesses, it did not occur to me as being necessary; and
how could a stronger proof be adduced, that no stipulations were agreed
to respecting the reception of Buonaparte in England, than the fact of
their not being reduced to writing? which certainly would have been the
case had any favourable terms been demanded on the part of Monsieur Las
Cases, and agreed to by me.

(p. 058) The French boat was soon after despatched with the letter to
Bertrand, in charge of a French naval officer, who had attended Las
Cases on board; and as soon as I had finished the following despatch to
the Secretary of the Admiralty, I sent Captain Sartorius, of the Slaney,
to England, accompanied by General Gourgaud.

Extract of a Letter from Captain Maitland, of His Majesty’s ship
Bellerophon, addressed to the Secretary of the Admiralty, dated
in Basque Roads, 14th July, 1815.

“For the information of the Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty, I have
to acquaint you that the Count Las Cases and General Lallemand this day
came on board His Majesty’s ship under my command, with a proposal from
Count Bertrand for me to receive on board Napoleon Buonaparte, for the
purpose of throwing himself on the generosity of the Prince Regent.
Conceiving myself authorised by their Lordships’ secret order, I have
acceded to the (p. 059) proposal, and he is to embark on board this
ship to-morrow morning. That no misunderstanding might arise, I have
explicitly and clearly explained to Count Las Cases, that I have no
authority whatever for granting terms of any sort, but that all I can do
is to carry him and his suite to England, to be received in such manner
as his Royal Highness may deem expedient.

“At Napoleon Buonaparte’s request, and that their Lordships may be in
possession of the transaction at as early a period as possible, I
despatch the Slaney (with General Gourgaud, his Aide de Camp), directing
Captain Sartorius to put into the nearest port, and forward this letter
by his first Lieutenant, and shall in compliance with their Lordships’
orders proceed to Torbay, to await such directions as the Admiralty may
think proper to give.

“Enclosed, I transmit a copy of the letter (p. 060) with which General
Gourgaud is charged, to his Royal Highness the Prince Regent, and
request that you will acquaint their Lordships, that the General informs
me, he is entrusted with further particulars, which he is anxious to
communicate to his Royal Highness.”

When these gentlemen had left the ship, as well as the Saale’s barge, I
said to Monsieur Las Cases, I propose dividing the after-cabin in two,
that the ladies may have the use of one part of it. “If you allow me to
give an opinion,” said he, “the Emperor will be better pleased to have
the whole of the after-cabin to himself, as he is fond of walking about,
and will by that means be able to take more exercise.” I answered, “As
it is my wish to treat him with every possible consideration while he is
on board the ship I command, I shall make any arrangement you think will
be most agreeable to him.”

(p. 061) This is the only conversation that ever passed on the subject
of the cabin; and I am the more particular in stating it, as Buonaparte
has been described, in some of the public Journals, as having taken
possession of it in a most brutal way, saying, “Tout ou rien pour
moi:”—All or nothing for me. I here therefore, once for all, beg to
state most distinctly, that, from the time of his coming on board my
ship, to the period of his quitting her, his conduct was invariably that
of a gentleman; and in no one instance do I recollect him to have made
use of a rude expression, or to have been guilty of any kind of
ill-breeding.

As the ship had for some time been kept clear for action, with all the
bulkheads down, it became necessary to prepare for the reception of so
many guests, by putting the cabins up again: in consequence of making
the requisite arrangements, it was past one o’clock in the morning
before I (p. 062) could get to bed. About ten at night, the officer of
the watch informed me that a boat from the shore had asked permission to
come alongside. A man being allowed to come on board from her; “I am
sent off from Rochelle,” said he, “to inform you that Buonaparte this
morning passed that town in a chasse-marée, with another in company, for
the purpose of escaping to sea by the Pertuis de Breton: he is now in
that passage, and means to set sail this night.” I told him, “that I
doubted his information, having at that moment one of his attendants on
board, who had come with a proposal for me to receive him into the ship.”
I then asked him how he came by his intelligence? He answered, “The
vessels passed close to a boat that I was in; and I saw a man wrapt up
in a sailor’s great coat, whom one of the people with me asserted to be
him: for my part, I am not acquainted with his appearance, never having
seen him; but when the owner of the vessels attempted (p. 063) to go on
board of them, he was kept off, and told that they were required for two
or three days, when they would be restored with ample payment.” He told
his story so circumstantially, and with such confidence, that I feared
there must be grounds for what he stated; and the anxiety of my
situation may be easily conceived, when it is recollected that I had
sent off a ship to England with despatches, announcing the intention of
Buonaparte to embark the following morning in the Bellerophon. After a
little consideration, I determined to inform Las Cases abruptly of the
intelligence I had received, and endeavour to judge by the effect it had
on his countenance, whether there was any truth in the report or not. I
accordingly went into the cabin and did so; he seemed perfectly calm and
collected, saying, “Pray at what hour does your informant state the
Emperor to have passed Rochelle?” “At ten A.M.” “Then I can safely
assert, on my honour, that he was (p. 064) not in either of those
vessels. I left him at half-past five this evening, when it was his full
intention to come on board this ship to-morrow morning; what he may have
done since that hour, I cannot be responsible for.” I answered, “As you
give your word of honour that Buonaparte had not left Isle d’Aix when
you quitted it, I shall trust to what you say, and take no steps in
consequence of the information that has been brought to me, but conclude
it has originated in some mistake.”

About three in the morning, the officer of the watch awoke me, and said
that another boat wished to come alongside. I rose and went upon deck
immediately, and found that she brought the same intelligence from
another quarter; and they both eventually proved correct, to a certain
extent: for two chasse-marées, as I was afterwards informed, had been
prepared, manned, and officered from the frigates, to be used as a
(p. 065) last resource to attempt an escape in, in the event of Las
Cases’ mission to the Bellerophon not being successful; and they had
actually passed Rochelle, in their way to Pointeau d’Aguillon, at the
hour specified, and were there to await his joining them should it prove
necessary.[3]

After I had determined to abide by Las Cases’ assurance, that Buonaparte
had not quitted Isle d’Aix, I enquired of the person who brought off the
information in the (p. 066) evening, “What was the state of Rochelle,
and whether I might with safety send a boat there to purchase
refreshments?” as the white flag was then hoisted all over the town; he
said, “he would not recommend it, as, though the towns-people were well
inclined towards the Bourbon family, the garrison, consisting of four
thousand men, were all attached to Buonaparte; but if he were once on
board the ship, there would be no risk in doing so, as their fear of his
meeting with bad treatment would keep the soldiers in awe.”

At break of day, on the 15th of July, 1815, l’Épervier French brig of
war was discovered under sail, standing out towards the ship, with a
flag of truce up; and at the same time the Superb, bearing Sir Henry
Hotham’s flag, was seen in the offing. By half-past five the ebb-tide
failed, the wind was blowing right in, and the brig, which was within a
mile of us, made no (p. 067) further progress; while the Superb was
advancing with the wind and tide in her favour. Thus situated, and being
most anxious to terminate the affair I had brought so near a conclusion,
previous to the Admiral’s arrival, I sent off Mr Mott, the First
Lieutenant, in the barge, who returned soon after six o’clock, bringing
Napoleon with him.

On coming on board the Bellerophon, he was received without any of the
honours generally paid to persons of high rank; the guard was drawn out
on the break of the poop, but did not present arms. His Majesty’s
Government had merely given directions, in the event of his being
captured, for his being removed into any one of his Majesty’s ships that
might fall in with him; but no instructions had been given as to the
light in which he was to be viewed. As it is not customary, however, on
board a British ship of war, to pay any such honours (p. 068) before
the colours are hoisted at eight o’clock in the morning, or after
sunset, I made the early hour an excuse for withholding them upon this
occasion.

Portrait of Napoleon

Buonaparte’s dress was an olive-coloured great coat over a green
uniform, with scarlet cape and cuffs, green lapels turned back and edged
with scarlet, skirts hooked back with bugle horns embroidered in gold,
plain sugar-loaf buttons and gold epaulettes; being the uniform of the
Chasseur à Cheval of the Imperial Guard. He wore the star, or grand
cross of the Legion of Honour, and the small cross of that order; the
Iron Crown; and the Union, appended to the button-hole of his left
lapel. He had on a small cocked hat, with a tri-coloured cockade; plain
gold-hilted sword, military boots, and white waistcoat and breeches. The
following day he appeared in shoes, with gold buckles, and silk
stockings—the (p. 069) dress he always wore afterwards, while with me.

On leaving the Épervier, he was cheered by her ship’s company as long as
the boat was within hearing; and Mr Mott informed me that most of the
officers and men had tears in their eyes.

General Bertrand came first up the ship’s side, and said to me, “The
Emperor is in the boat.” He then ascended, and, when he came on the
quarter-deck, pulled off his hat, and, addressing me in a firm tone of
voice, said, “I am come to throw myself on the protection of your Prince
and laws.” When I showed him into the cabin, he looked round and said,
“Une belle chambre,” “This is a handsome cabin.” I answered, “Such as it
is, Sir, it is at your service while you remain on board the ship I
command.” He then looked at a portrait (p. 070) that was hanging up,
and said, “Qui est cette jeune personne?” “Who is that young lady?” “My
wife,” I replied. “Ah! elle est très jeune et très jolie,” “Ah! she is
both young and pretty.”[4] He then asked what countrywoman she was,
begged to know if I had any children, (p. 071) and put a number of
questions respecting my country, and the service I had seen. He next
requested I would send for the officers, and introduce them to him:
which was done according to their rank. He asked several questions of
each, as to the place of his birth, the situation he held in the ship,
the length of time he had served, and the actions he had been in. He
then expressed a desire to go round the ship; but, as the men had not
done cleaning, I told him it was customary to clean the lower decks
immediately after their breakfast, that they were then so employed, and,
if he would defer visiting the ship until they had finished, he would
see her to more advantage.

At this time I proposed to him to allow me to address him in English, as
I had heard he understood that language, and I had considerable
difficulty in expressing myself in French. He replied in French,
(p. 072) “The thing is impossible; I hardly understand a word of your
language:” and from the observations I had an opportunity of making
afterwards, I am satisfied he made a correct statement, as, on looking
into books or newspapers, he frequently asked the meaning of the most
common word. He spoke his own language with a rapidity that at first
made it difficult to follow him; and it was several days before I got so
far accustomed to his manner of speaking, as to comprehend his meaning
immediately.

In about a quarter of an hour, he again intimated a desire to go round
the ship; and although I told him he would find the men rubbing and
scouring, he persisted in his wish of seeing her in the state she then
was. He accordingly went over all her decks, asking me many questions;
more particularly about any thing that appeared to him different from
what he had been (p. 073) accustomed to see in French ships of war. He
seemed most struck with the cleanliness and neatness of the men, saying
“that our seamen were surely a different class of people from the
French; and that he thought it was owing to them we were always
victorious at sea.” I answered, “I must beg leave to differ with you: I
do not wish to take from the merit of our men; but my own opinion is,
that perhaps we owe our advantage to the superior experience of the
officers; and I believe the French seamen, if taken as much pains with,
would look as well as ours. As British ships of war are constantly at
sea, the officers have nothing to divert their attention from them and
their men; and in consequence, not only is their appearance more
attended to, but they are much better trained to the service they have
to perform.”

“I believe you are right,” said he. He (p. 074) then went on to talk of
several naval actions; adding, “Your laws are either more severe, or
better administered, than ours; there are many instances of French
officers having conducted themselves ill in battle, without my being
able to punish them as they deserved:” among others, he mentioned the
names of two naval officers; and speaking of one of them, said, “He
ought to have suffered death, and I did all I could to bring it about,
but he was tried by a French naval court-martial, which only dismissed
him the service.” I observed, “The laws appear sometimes to be
administered with more than sufficient severity. I commanded a frigate
in the affair of Basque Roads; and in my opinion, the sentence of death
on the Captain of the Calcutta was unjust: he could do no more to save
his ship, and she was defended better and longer than any one there.” He
answered, “You are not aware of the circumstances that occasioned his
condemnation; (p. 075) he was the first man to quit his ship, which was
fought some time by her officers and crew after he had left her.”

He next said, “I can see no sufficient reason why your ships should beat
the French with so much ease. The finest men of war in your service are
French; a French ship is heavier in every respect than one of yours, she
carries more guns, those guns of a larger calibre, and has a great many
more men.” I replied, “I have already accounted for it to you, in the
superior experience of our men and officers.” “I understand,” said he,
“from some Frenchmen who were on board your ship for several days,[5]
that you take great pains in exercising your guns, and training your men
to fire at a mark.” I answered, “I did so, because I considered
(p. 076) it of the greatest importance;” and I added, “that if the
frigates had attempted to put to sea, he would probably have had an
opportunity of seeing the effect of it.” He asked me “if I thought two
frigates, with four-and-twenty pounders on their main decks,[6] were a
match for a seventy-four gun ship; and whether it was my opinion, if he
had attempted to force a passage in the ships at Isle d’Aix, it would
have been attended with success.” I replied, “that the fire of a
two-deck ship was so much more compact, and carried such an immense
weight of iron, in proportion to that of a frigate, and there was so
much difficulty in bringing two or three ships to act with effect at the
same time upon one, that I scarcely considered three frigates a match
for one line-of-battle ship;—that, with respect to forcing a passage
past the Bellerophon, (p. 077) it must have depended greatly on
accident, but the chances were much against it; as the frigates would
have had to beat out against the wind for three or four leagues, though
a narrow passage, exposed to the fire of a seventy-four gun ship, which,
from being to windward, would have had the power of taking the position
most advantageous for herself.” He then said, reverting to what had
passed before about firing at marks, “You have a great advantage over
France in your finances: I have long wished to introduce the use of
powder and shot in exercise; but the expense was too great for the
country to bear.” He examined the sights on the guns, and approved of
them highly; asked the weight of metal on the different decks,
disapproving of the mixture of different calibres on the quarter-deck
and forecastle. I told him the long nines were placed in the way of the
rigging, that they might carry the fire from the explosion clear of it,
which a (p. 078) carronade would not do: he answered, “That may be
necessary, but it must be attended with inconvenience.” His enquiries
were generally much to the purpose, and showed that he had given naval
matters a good deal of consideration.

On seeing the additional supply of wads for each deck made up along with
the shot-boxes, in the form of sophas, with neat canvass covers, he
observed, “The French ships of war have all the preparations for action
that you have, but they have not the way of combining appearance with
utility.”

We had breakfast about nine o’clock, in the English style, consisting of
tea, coffee, cold meat, &c. He did not eat much, or seem to relish it;
and when, on enquiry, I found he was accustomed to have a hot meal in
the morning, I immediately ordered my steward to allow his Maître
d’Hôtel to give directions, that he might invariably be (p. 079) served
in the manner he had been used to; and after that we always lived in the
French fashion, as far as I could effect that object.

During breakfast he asked many questions about English customs, saying,
“I must now learn to conform myself to them, as I shall probably pass
the remainder of my life in England.”

The Superb, as I before observed, had been seen in the offing early in
the morning, and was now approaching with a light breeze: he asked two
or three times how soon she would anchor, seemed very anxious to know
whether the Admiral would approve of my having received him; and when I
went to wait on Sir Henry Hotham, requested I would say he was desirous
of seeing him.

The Superb anchored about half-past ten, (p. 080) and I immediately
went on board, and gave the Admiral an account of all that had occurred,
adding, “I trust I have done right, and that the Government will approve
of my conduct, as I considered it of much importance to prevent
Buonaparte’s escape to America, and to get possession of his person.”
Sir Henry Hotham said, “Getting hold of him on any terms would have been
of the greatest consequence; but as you have entered into no conditions
whatever, there cannot be a doubt that you will obtain the approbation
of his Majesty’s Government.”

He then said, “How do you feel as to keeping him? would you like to part
with him?” “Certainly not,” was my answer: “as I have had all the
anxiety and responsibility of conducting this matter to an issue, I am
of course desirous of taking him to England; but, as I do not wish to
keep him, or any man, in my ship against (p. 081) his will, if he
desires to remove into another, I shall certainly not object.”

I then delivered Buonaparte’s message, that he was desirous of receiving
a visit from the Admiral, who said he would wait upon him with much
pleasure.

I soon after returned to the Bellerophon, and told Buonaparte that the
Admiral meant to wait on him; upon which he desired Count Bertrand to go
and pay his respects to Sir Henry. I accompanied him, and while the
Admiral was preparing for his visit, Captain Senhouse attended General
Bertrand through the ship.

In the afternoon, Sir Henry Hotham, accompanied by Captain Senhouse, and
Mr Irving, his secretary, came on board the Bellerophon. They were
introduced to Buonaparte by General Bertrand, in the after-cabin, where
he had a good deal of (p. 082) conversation with them: he showed his
portable library, which was laid out in small travelling cases round the
cabin; asked various questions, principally relative to the discipline
and regulation of our ships of war, and finally invited them all to
remain to dinner.

Dinner was served about five o’clock upon Buonaparte’s plate. This was
arranged by his Maître d’Hôtel, whom I had told to regulate every thing
in the manner most likely to be agreeable to his master.

When dinner was announced, Buonaparte, viewing himself as a Royal
personage, which he continued to do while on board the Bellerophon, and
which, under the circumstances, I considered it would have been both
ungracious and uncalled for in me to have disputed, led the way into the
dining-room. He seated himself in the centre at one side of the table,
requesting (p. 083) Sir Henry Hotham to sit at his right hand, and
Madame Bertrand on his left. For that day I sat as usual at the head of
the table, but on the following day, and every other, whilst Buonaparte
remained on board, I sat by his request at his right hand, and General
Bertrand took the top. Two of the ward-room officers dined daily at the
table, by invitation from Buonaparte, conveyed through Count Bertrand.

He conversed a great deal, and showed no depression of spirits: among
other things, he asked me where I was born. I told him, in Scotland.
“Have you any property there?” said he. “No, I am a younger brother, and
they do not bestow much on people of that description in Scotland.” “Is
your elder brother a Lord?” “No, Lord Lauderdale is the head of our
family.” “Ah! you are a relation of Lord Lauderdale’s! he is an
acquaintance of mine, he was sent Ambassador from your King to (p. 084)
me, when Mr Fox was Prime Minister: had Mr Fox lived, it never would
have come to this, but his death put an end to all hopes of peace.
Milord Lauderdale est un bon garçon;” adding, “I think you resemble him
a little, though he is dark and you are fair.”[7]

When dinner was over, a cup of strong coffee was handed round; he then
rose and went into the after-cabin, asking the Admiral and all the party
to accompany him, the ladies among the rest. This was the only time I
ever saw them in the apartment in which he slept.

After some conversation, he said, in a cheerful and playful way, that he
would show us his camp bed; and sent for Marchand, his premier valet de
chambre, who received his order, and soon returned with (p. 085) two
small packages in leather cases; one of which contained the bedstead,
which was composed of steel, and, when packed up, was not above two feet
long and eighteen inches in circumference; the other contained the
mattress and curtains, the latter of green silk. In three minutes the
whole was put together, and formed a very elegant small bed, about
thirty inches wide.

He then went out, and walked the quarter-deck for some time, and retired
to his cabin about half-past seven o’clock. Soon after, when the Admiral
was going to return to his ship, he proposed to Bertrand to take leave
of him. He went into the cabin, but returned immediately with an
apology, saying he was undressed, and going to bed.

In the course of the afternoon, the Admiral invited Buonaparte, with the
ladies and all his principal officers, to breakfast, the following
(p. 086) day: which invitation was accepted, apparently, with much
satisfaction.

When I went on deck, early the next morning, (the 16th of July) I
observed that the Superb had the tompions out of her guns, and the man
ropes on her yards, as if for the purpose of saluting and manning ships;
and as I had received Buonaparte without even the guard presenting arms,
I felt that he might conceive I had intentionally treated him with
disrespect. I therefore sent the officer of the watch with my
compliments to Sir Henry Hotham, and begged to know if it was his
intention to salute Buonaparte on his going on board, and to receive him
with manned yards; and, if so, whether I was to do the same, on his
quitting the Bellerophon. He sent for answer, that it was not his
intention to salute, but he meant to man ship; that I was not to do so
on his quitting the Bellerophon, but was at liberty to man yards on his
return. I likewise (p. 087) received directions from the Admiral to
hoist a signal, when the boat with his visitors was ready to leave the
ship, that he might have time to make the necessary preparations.

About ten A.M. the barge was manned, and a captain’s guard turned out.
When Buonaparte came on deck, he looked at the marines, who were
generally fine-looking young men, with much satisfaction; went through
their ranks, inspected their arms, and admired their appearance, saying
to Bertrand, “How much might be done with a hundred thousand such
soldiers as these.” He asked which had been longest in the corps; went
up and spoke to him. His questions were put in French, which I
interpreted, as well as the man’s answers. He enquired how many years he
had served; on being told upwards of ten, he turned to me and said, “Is
it not customary in your service, to give a man who has been in
(p. 088) it so long some mark of distinction?” He was informed that the
person in question had been a sergeant, but was reduced to the ranks for
some misconduct. He then put the guard through part of their exercise,
whilst I interpreted to the Captain of Marines, who did not understand
French, the manœuvres he wished to have performed. He made some
remarks upon the difference of the charge with the bayonet between our
troops and the French; and found fault with our method of fixing the
bayonet to the musquet, as being more easy to twist off, if seized by an
enemy when in the act of charging.

On getting into the boat, he looked at the barge’s crew, and said, “What
a very fine set of men you have got!” He then turned to Las Cases, who
had come on board the ship in plain clothes, but now appeared in a naval
uniform, and said jocularly, “Comment, Las Cases, vous êtes (p. 089)
militaire?” “What, Las Cases, are you a military man? I have never till
now seen you in uniform.” He answered, “Please your Majesty, before the
revolution I was a lieutenant in the navy; and as I think an uniform
carries more consideration with it in a foreign country, I have adopted
it.”

His attention was now drawn to the men on the Superb’s yards, as well as
to the appearance of the ship, about which he made some observations,
and asked several questions; among others, whether she was French or
English; what her age was; the number of guns she carried, and the
weight of metal on each deck.

On going alongside, General Bertrand went up and announced to the
Admiral, that the Emperor, for they always gave him that title, was in
the boat. He then went up, and was received by Sir Henry Hotham on the
quarter-deck, where a (p. 090) captain’s guard was turned out to him.
He was immediately shown into the cabin, and, after looking round him,
requested to have the officers presented, which was done; when he asked
nearly the same questions of each, that he had put to those of the
Bellerophon the day before. He then expressed a wish to go through the
ship; and did so, accompanied by several of his own suite, the Admiral,
Captain Senhouse, and myself. The men were drawn up at divisions, and
every thing was in the nicest order. He appeared much pleased with all
he saw, and drew many comparisons between French and English ships of
war. On going through the wings and storerooms, he said to General
Savary, “Our ships have nothing of this sort:” who answered, “All the
new ones, built at Antwerp, were constructed on this plan.” When he
returned to the quarter-deck, he questioned the Admiral and myself very
minutely, about the clothing and victualling (p. 091) of the seamen. It
was then, on being told that all that department was under the charge of
the purser, he said in a facetious way, “Je crois que c’est quelquefois
chez vous, comme chez nous, le commissaire est un peu coquin.” “I
believe it happens sometimes with you, as it does with us, that the
purser is a little of a rogue.” This was addressed to the Admiral and
me, with whom he was conversing, and not to the people, as has been
represented; nor was there a man that could have understood it, as it
was spoken in French, and not within their hearing. He asked to see the
Chaplain, put a few questions to him as to the number of Catholics and
foreigners in the ship, and whether any of them spoke the French
language. A Guernsey man was pointed out to him, but he had no
conversation with him.

He was then shown into the cabin, where breakfast was prepared: during
which meal (p. 092) he talked a good deal, but ate little, the
breakfast being served in the English manner. I observed, during the
whole time of breakfast, that Colonel Planat, who was much attached to
him, and of whom Buonaparte always expressed himself in terms of
affection, had tears running down his cheeks, and seemed greatly
distressed at the situation of his master. And, from the opportunities I
afterwards had of observing this young man’s character, I feel convinced
he had a strong personal attachment to Buonaparte;—and this, indeed, as
far as I could judge, was the case also with all his other attendants,
without exception.

On rising from the breakfast-table, the whole party went into the
after-cabin, where a discussion took place about Buonaparte’s horses and
carriages, which had been left at Rochefort, and which he was desirous
of having forwarded to England. I had formerly agreed, in the event of
their (p. 093) arriving, to receive two carriages, and five or six
horses, as many as the ship could conveniently stow; but as they had not
come, the Admiral now consented to give a passport for a vessel to
transport the whole of them, consisting of six carriages and forty-five
horses: which was accordingly made out, and forwarded to Monsieur
Philibert, the senior naval officer at Isle d’Aix, but I believe it was
never acted upon.

We all returned to the Bellerophon about noon, when the ships present
manned their yards, the boat was immediately hoisted in, and the ship
got under weigh, in pursuance of orders from the Admiral, of which the
following is an extract.

Extract of an Order from Rear Admiral Sir Henry Hotham, K.C.B.,
addressed to Captain Maitland of H.M.S. Bellerophon, dated
Superb, in Basque Roads, July 15th, 1815.

“You are hereby required and directed to take the Myrmidon under your
orders, (p. 094) and, putting on board her such persons composing a
part of the suite of Napoleon Buonaparte as cannot be conveyed in the
Bellerophon, you are to put to sea in H.M.S. under your command, in
company with the Myrmidon, and make the best of your way with Napoleon
Buonaparte and his suite to Torbay, and there landing the officer of the
ship bearing my flag, whom I have charged with a despatch addressed to
the Secretary of the Admiralty, as well as an officer of the ship you
command, for the purpose of proceeding express to Plymouth with the
despatch you will herewith receive, addressed to Admiral Lord Keith, and
a copy of these instructions (which you will transmit to his Lordship,)
await orders from the Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty, or his
Lordship, for your further proceedings.”

During the time we were heaving the anchor up, and setting the sails,
Buonaparte (p. 095) remained on the break of the poop; and was very
inquisitive about what was going on. He observed, “Your method of
performing this manœuvre is quite different from the French;” and
added, “What I admire most in your ship, is the extreme silence and
orderly conduct of your men:—on board a French ship, every one calls
and gives orders, and they gabble like so many geese.” Previous to his
quitting the Bellerophon he made the same remark, saying, “There has
been less noise in this ship, where there are six hundred men, during
the whole of the time I have been in her, than there was on board the
Épervier, with only one hundred, in the passage from Isle d’Aix to
Basque Roads.”

Soon after the ship was under weigh, the Mouche joined, with three or
four sheep, a quantity of vegetables, and other refreshments,—a present
from the French Commodore to Buonaparte. After receiving (p. 096) them
on board, we made sail, accompanied by the Myrmidon, for England.

In working out, we passed within about a cable’s length of the Superb.
He asked me if I considered that was near enough for a naval engagement:
I answered, that half the distance, or even less, would suit much
better; as it was a maxim in our navy, not to be further from our enemy
than to give room for working the yards, and manœuvring the ship.

He remained upon deck all the time the ship was beating out of the
Pertuis d’Antioche. Having cleared the Chasseron shoal about six P.M.,
dinner was served. He conversed a great deal at table, and seemed in
very good spirits; told several anecdotes of himself; among others, one
relating to Sir Sydney Smith. Knowing that I had served under that
officer on the coast of Syria, he turned to me and said, (p. 097) “Did
Sir Sydney Smith ever tell you the cause of his quarrel with me?” I
answered he had not. “Then,” said he, “I will.—When the French army was
before St Jean d’Acre, he had a paper privately distributed among the
officers and soldiers, tending to induce them to revolt and quit me; on
which I issued a proclamation, denouncing the English commanding-officer
as a madman, and prohibiting all intercourse with him. This nettled Sir
Sydney so much, that he sent me a challenge to meet him in single combat
on the beach at Caiffa. My reply was, that when Marlborough appeared for
that purpose, I should be at his service; but I had other duties to
fulfil besides fighting a duel with an English commodore.” He pursued
the subject of Syria, and said, patting me (who was sitting next him) on
the head; “If it had not been for you English, I should have been
Emperor of the East; but wherever there is water to float a (p. 098)
ship, we are sure to find you in our way.”

During the 17th and 18th of July, the weather was very fine, and nothing
of note occurred. Several strange vessels were seen, about which
Buonaparte and his attendants were very inquisitive, in order, I
presume, that they might judge whether they would probably have escaped
or not, had they put to sea. The only ship of war fallen in with on
those days was the Bacchus sloop, which I pointed out; and at the same
time informed him, that we had several frigates cruising in this
position, for the purpose of intercepting him, had he got past the ships
stationed close in with the land. This, as it afterward appeared, was
not the case: the Endymion having gone into the Gironde, the Liffey
having sprung her bowsprit and returned to England, and the others, from
various causes, having quitted the station; so that, (p. 099) had he
passed the squadron off Rochefort, there can be little doubt he would
have made his voyage in safety to America.

About this time, Buonaparte amused himself by playing at cards after
breakfast: the game was vingt-un, in which all the party joined,
except myself. He proposed that I should play with them, but I told him
I had no money, making it a rule to leave it all with my wife before I
went to sea: on which he laughed, and good-humouredly offered to lend me
some, and trust me until we arrived in England: I, however, declined his
offer, having the numerous duties of the ship to attend to.

As my despatch of the 14th instant to the Secretary of the Admiralty had
been very short, and written in great haste,—being desirous that his
Majesty’s Ministers should be made acquainted with the important
arrangements agreed upon, as early (p. 100) as possible,—I considered
it right to make a more detailed report to the Commander in Chief; and
therefore wrote a despatch to Lord Keith, of which the following are
extracts, intending to send it by the officer who should announce to him
the Bellerophon’s arrival in Torbay.

Extract of a Letter From Captain Maitland, Addressed To Admiral
Viscount Keith, G.C.B., Dated on Board H.M. Ship Bellerophon, at
Sea, July 18th, 1815.

“Having received directions from Sir Henry Hotham to forward the
accompanying despatch to your Lordship by an officer, I avail myself of
the opportunity to explain the circumstances under which I was placed
when induced to receive Napoleon Buonaparte into the ship I command.

“After the first communication was made to me by Count Bertrand (a copy
of which, with my answer, has been forwarded to your Lordship by Sir
Henry Hotham) that (p. 101) Buonaparte was at Isle d’Aix, and actually
embarked on board the frigates for the purpose of proceeding to the
United States of America, my duty became peculiarly harassing and
anxious, owing to the numerous reports, that were daily brought from all
quarters, of his intention to escape in vessels of various descriptions,
and from different situations on the coast, of which the limited means I
possessed, together with the length of time requisite to communicate
with Sir Henry Hotham at Quiberon Bay, rendered the success at least
possible, and even probable. Thus situated, the enemy having two
frigates and a brig, while the force under my command consisted of the
Bellerophon and Slaney (having detached the Myrmidon to reinforce the
Daphne off the Mamusson passage, where the force was considerably
superior to her, and whence one of the reports stated Buonaparte meant
to sail,) another flag of truce was sent out, for the ostensible reason
of enquiring whether (p. 102) I had received an answer to the former,
but I soon ascertained the real one to be a proposal from Buonaparte to
embark for England in this ship.

“Taking into consideration all the circumstances of the probability of
the escape being effected, if the trial was made either in the frigates,
or clandestinely in a small vessel, as, had this ship been disabled in
action, there was no other with me that could produce any effect on a
frigate, and, from the experience I have had in blockading the ports of
the bay, knowing the impossibility of preventing small vessels from
getting to sea, and looking upon it as of the greatest importance to get
possession of the person of Buonaparte; I was induced, without
hesitation, to accede to the proposal, as far as taking him on board,
and proceeding with him to England: but, at the same time, stating in
the most clear and positive terms, that I had no authority (p. 103) to
make any sort of stipulation as to the reception he was to meet with.

“I am happy to say, that the measures I have adopted have met with the
approbation of Sir Henry Hotham, and will, I trust and hope, receive
that of your Lordship, as well as of his Majesty’s Government.”

On the 29th, a conversation took place between Madame Bertrand and
myself, about Buonaparte’s voyage to Elba. She asked me if I was
acquainted with Captain Usher. On my answering in the negative, she
said, “The Emperor is very fond of him: he gave him his portrait set
with diamonds, and has another which he intends for you.” I replied, “I
hope not, as I cannot accept of it. Captain Usher’s situation and mine
were very different, and what might be proper in him would not be so in
me.” She rejoined, “If you do not accept of it, you will offend him very
(p. 104) much.” “If that is the case,” I said, “I shall be obliged to
you to take steps to prevent its being offered, as I wish to save him
the mortification, and myself the pain, of a refusal; and I feel it
absolutely impossible, situated as I am, to take a present from him. In
receiving him on board, I had no direct authority from my Government,
and I have yet to learn whether my conduct will be approved of. Besides,
were I to receive a present of such value, it might possibly be said,
that I was actuated by selfish motives; whereas all the measures I have
taken were dictated solely by the desire of serving my country to the
best of my judgment: if, therefore, I am to receive any reward, it must
come from that quarter.”

On the 20th of July, early in the morning, we spoke the Swiftsure, on
her way from England to reinforce me in the blockade of Rochefort. The
astonishment of (p. 105) Captain Webley can scarcely be conceived, when,
on his entering the ship, I said, “Well, I have got him.” “Got him! got
whom?” “Why, Buonaparte; the man that has been keeping all Europe in a
ferment these last twenty years.” “Is it possible?” said he; “well, you
are a lucky fellow.” We had some further conversation; but Captain
Webley was not introduced to Buonaparte, who had not then left his
cabin; and as the Swiftsure was going to the southward, and I was
desirous of getting to England as quickly as possible, we soon parted
company.

During the 21st and 22nd of July, we exchanged signals with two or three
others of our ships, which I took care to explain were on the look-out
for my guest; and he seemed by this time pretty well convinced that an
attempt to elude our cruisers would have been fruitless. On the latter
day, the Prometheus showed her number, while we (p. 106) were at
dinner: when Buonaparte expressed a wish to know whether the ships at
Brest had hoisted the white flag or not. I sent for the officer of the
watch, and desired him to ask the question by telegraph. In a few
minutes he returned, with an answer in the affirmative. Buonaparte made
no remark upon this information; but asked, with apparent indifference,
how the question and answer had been conveyed; and when I explained it
to him, he approved highly of the usefulness of the invention.

During meals, he always entered very freely and familiarly into
conversation with those about him, addressing himself frequently to Las
Cases and me; asking many questions about the manners, customs, and laws
of the English; often repeating the observation he had made on first
coming on board, that he must gain all the information possible on those
subjects, and conform himself to them, as he should (p. 107) probably
end his life among that people. Monsieur Las Cases, it appears, had
emigrated from France early in the revolution, and remained in England
until the peace of Amiens, when he was allowed to return to his own
country.

Sunday, the 23rd of July, we passed very near to Ushant: the day was
fine, and Buonaparte remained upon deck great part of the morning. He
cast many a melancholy look at the coast of France, but made few
observations on it. He asked several questions about the coast of
England; whether it was safe to approach; its distance, and the part we
were likely to make. About eight in the evening, the high land of
Dartmoor was discovered, when I went into the cabin and told him of it:
I found him in a flannel dressing-gown, nearly undressed, and preparing
to go to bed. He put on his greatcoat, came out upon deck, and remained
some time looking at the (p. 108) land; asking its distance from
Torbay, and the probable time of our arrival there.

Napoleon on Board the Bellerophon

At daybreak of the 24th of July, we were close off Dartmouth. Count
Bertrand went into the cabin, and informed Buonaparte of it, who came
upon deck about half-past four, and remained on the poop until the ship
anchored in Torbay. He talked with admiration of the boldness of the
coast; saying, “You have in that respect a great advantage over France,
which is surrounded by rocks and dangers.” On opening Torbay, he was
much struck with the beauty of the scenery; and exclaimed, “What a
beautiful country! it very much resembles the bay of Porto Ferrajo, in
Elba.”

The ship was scarcely at anchor, when an officer came alongside,
bringing an order from Lord Keith; of which I give an extract.

(p. 109) Extract of an Order from Admiral Viscount Keith, G.C.B.,
addressed to Captain Maitland, of H.M.S. Bellerophon, dated Ville
de Paris, Hamoaze, 23rd July, 1815.

“Captain Sartorius, of His Majesty’s ship Slaney, delivered to me last
night, at eleven o’clock, your despatch of the 14th instant, acquainting
me that Buonaparte had proposed to embark on board the ship you command;
and that you had acceded thereto, with the intention of proceeding to
Torbay, there to wait for further orders. I lost no time in forwarding
your letter by Captain Sartorius to the Lords Commissioners of the
Admiralty, in order that their Lordships might, through him, be
acquainted with every circumstance that had occurred on an occasion of
so much importance; and you may expect orders from their Lordships for
your further guidance. You are to remain in Torbay until you receive
such orders; and in the mean time, in addition to the directions
(p. 110) already in your possession, you are most positively ordered to
prevent every person whatever from coming on board the ship you command,
except the officers and men who compose her crew; nor is any person
whatever, whether in His Majesty’s service or not, who does not belong
to the ship, to be suffered to come on board, either for the purpose of
visiting the officers, or on any pretence whatever, without express
permission either from the Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty, or from
me. As I understand from Captain Sartorius, that General Gourgaud
refused to deliver the letter with which he was charged for the Prince
Regent, to any person except his Royal Highness, you are to take him out
of the Slaney, into the ship you command, until you receive directions
from the Admiralty on the subject, and order that ship back to Plymouth
Sound, when Captain Sartorius returns from London.”

(p. 111) Along with the above order, I received a letter from Lord
Keith, of which I give some extracts.

“You will perceive by the newspapers, that the intelligence had reached
London before Captain Sartorius, owing to his long passage. I have a
letter from Lord Melville to-day, enforcing in the strongest manner the
former orders,—even that no person, myself or Sir John Duckworth
excepted, shall be suffered to come on board the ship, till orders are
sent from Government; which you will be so good as strictly to comply
with. Let him and his want for nothing; and send to me for any thing
Brixham cannot furnish; I will send it to you by a small vessel. You may
say to Napoleon, that I am under the greatest personal obligations to
him for his attention to my nephew, who was taken and brought before him
at Belle (p. 112) Alliance, and who must have died, if he had not
ordered a surgeon to dress him immediately, and sent him to a hut. I am
glad it fell into your hands at this time, because a Frenchman had been
sent from Paris on the mission, a Monsieur Drigni.”

Buonaparte recollected the circumstance alluded to, and seemed much
gratified with Lord Keith’s acknowledgments.

Napoleon and all his attendants were very anxious to see as many
newspapers as possible, but particularly the Courier, which they
considered the Ministerial paper, and most likely to contain the
intentions of Government respecting them. They received little
encouragement from any of them, but least of all from those which are
supposed to take the Ministerial side in politics, as they not only
contained a great deal that was personally offensive, but stated, in
very plain terms, that none (p. 113) of the party would be allowed to
land in England, and that St Helena was the probable place of their
ultimate destination. Buonaparte himself always affected to consider
this as a mere newspaper report, though I believe it gave him a good
deal of uneasiness. His followers received it with much irritation and
impatience, frequently endeavouring to convince me that our Government
could have no right to dispose of them in that way, and talking to me,
as if I had been one of his Majesty’s Ministers, and had influence in
determining on their future destination. All I could say on the subject
did not prevent them from frequently recurring to it, and appealing
against the injustice of such a measure.

This morning General Gourgaud returned from the Slaney, which we found
lying here, not having been permitted to land, and having refused to
deliver the letter he had been charged with for the Prince (p. 114)
Regent to any person except his Royal Highness himself.

When I was conversing with Madame Bertrand, she said, “Had the Emperor
gained the battle of Waterloo, he would have been firmly seated on the
throne of France.” I answered, “It certainly might have protracted his
downfall, but, in all probability, he would have been overthrown at
last, as the Russians were fast advancing, and he never could have
resisted the combined forces of the Allies.” To which she replied, “If
your army had been defeated, the Russians never would have acted against
him.” “That I cannot believe,” I said, “as they were using every effort
to join and support the Allies; and the assertion is ridiculous.” “Ah,”
said she, “you may laugh at it, and so may other people, nor will it,
perhaps, now be discovered; but remember what I say, and be assured that
at some future period it (p. 115) will be proved, that it never was
Alexander’s intention to cross the frontiers of France, in opposition to
him.”

In the course of the day I received many applications for admittance
into the ship: among others a note from a lady residing in the
neighbourhood, accompanied by a basket of fruit, requesting a boat might
be sent for her next morning. I returned a civil answer, informing her
that my instructions would not admit of her request being complied with:
no more fruit was sent from that quarter. Lord Gwydir and Lord Charles
Bentinck also applied for admittance, but with no better success.

No sooner was Buonaparte’s arrival known in the neighbourhood, than the
ship was surrounded by a crowd of boats, people being drawn from all
quarters to see this extraordinary man. He came often upon deck, and
showed himself at the gangways (p. 116) and stern windows, apparently
for the purpose of gratifying their curiosity, of which, as he observed
to me, the English appeared to have a very large portion.

In the evening, the officer who had been sent to Plymouth, on the ship’s
arrival, with despatches for Lord Keith, returned, bringing letters,
from which I give the following extracts:—

Extract of a Letter from Admiral Viscount Keith, G.C.B.,
addressed to Captain Maitland, of H.M.S. Bellerophon, dated Ville
de Paris, Hamoaze, July 24, 1815.

“The officer of the ship you command has just delivered to me your
letter of this date, reporting your arrival in Torbay, with the
Bellerophon and Myrmidon, having on board Napoleon Buonaparte and his
suite. I have also received your other letter, explaining the
circumstances under which you were placed, when you were induced to
receive Napoleon on board; and I shall (p. 117) transmit the same to
the Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty, in confident expectation, that
his Majesty’s Government will fully approve of your conduct.”

Extract of a Letter from Admiral Viscount Keith, G.C.B.,
addressed to Captain Maitland, of H.M.S, Bellerophon, dated 24th
July, 1815.

“I take the opportunity of your officer’s return, to congratulate you
and the nation, and to thank you for the perfect manner in which you
entered into my views on the subject, and for the management of the
blockade, about which I was most anxious. It will not be long ere you
are instructed by the Government: the first express would arrive about
four o’clock this morning, and I attempt a telegraph message, but it is
cloudy. I beg you will send for any thing you may want, to me, and it
shall be sent instantly; and I beg to present my respects to Napoleon,
and if I can render him any civility, I will consider it my duty, as
well (p. 118) as in gratitude for Captain Elphinstone’s report of the
attention he received from him on the field of battle.”

During the 25th of July, the concourse of people round the ship was
greater than the day before, and the anxiety of the Frenchmen was
considerably augmented by the confidence with which the newspapers spoke
of the intention to remove Buonaparte to St Helena. In the afternoon, he
walked above an hour on deck, frequently stood at the gangway, or
opposite to the quarter-deck ports, for the purpose of giving the people
an opportunity of seeing him, and, whenever he observed any well-dressed
women, pulled his hat off, and bowed to them.

At dinner he conversed as usual, was inquisitive about the kinds of fish
produced on the coast of England, and ate part of a turbot that was at
table, with much relish. (p. 119) He then spoke of the character of the
fishermen and boatmen on our coast, saying, “They are generally
smugglers as well as fishermen; at one time a great many of them were in
my pay, for the purpose of obtaining intelligence, bringing money over
to France, and assisting prisoners of war to escape. They even offered,
for a large sum of money, to seize the person of Louis, and deliver him
into my hands; but as they could not guarantee the preservation of his
life, I would not give my consent to the measure.”

At three in the morning of the 26th of July, Captain Sartorius returned
from London; having carried my despatch announcing Buonaparte’s
intention to embark in the Bellerophon, and brought with him orders for
me to proceed to Plymouth Sound. We immediately got under weigh,
accompanied by the Myrmidon and Slaney. While heaving the anchor up, Las
Cases (p. 120) came upon deck, when I told him the ship was ordered to
Plymouth, supposing, if he thought it requisite, he would acquaint his
master. Soon after the ship was at sea, Madame Bertrand made her
appearance, when she attacked me with some warmth for having neglected
to acquaint Buonaparte with the orders I had received, and told me he
was excessively offended. As she had once or twice before, when every
thing did not go exactly as she wished, held the same language, I
determined to ascertain whether Buonaparte had expressed any
dissatisfaction, and, if so, to come to an explanation with him, as,
though I was inclined to treat him with every proper consideration, it
never was my intention to be looked upon as responsible to him for my
movements; I therefore told Las Cases what she had said, and requested
he would ascertain whether Napoleon really had felt displeased. He
immediately went into the cabin, and on his return assured me that there
must (p. 121) have been some mistake, as nothing of the kind had taken
place.

The ship’s removal to the westward was by no means an agreeable event to
the suite of my guest: they naturally reasoned, that, had it been the
intention of the British Government to allow him to land in England, he
would not have been removed further from the Metropolis. He, however,
made no observations on the subject himself; still affecting to consider
the reports in the newspapers as the surmises of the editors.

We had, during the forenoon of the 26th of July, to beat up from the
Start to Plymouth Sound, against a strong northerly wind. Buonaparte
remained upon deck the greater part of the day. When going into the
Sound, I pointed out the Breakwater to him, and described the manner in
which they were forming it. He said, (p. 122) it was a great national
undertaking, and highly honourable to the country; enquired the
estimated expense, and seemed surprised, when I told him it was expected
to be finished for something less than a million sterling. He added, “I
have expended a large sum of money on the port of Cherbourg, and in
forming the Boyart Fort, to protect the anchorage at Isle d’Aix; but I
fear now, those and many other of my improvements will be neglected, and
allowed to go to ruin.”

When the ship had anchored, I informed him I was going to wait on the
Commander-in-chief, and requested to know if I could convey any message
from him. He desired me to return his thanks to Lord Keith, for the kind
intentions he had expressed towards him in his letters to me, and to say
he was extremely anxious to see his Lordship, if it could be done with
propriety. On delivering his message to Lord Keith, (p. 123) he
answered, “I would wait upon him with much pleasure, but, to tell you
the truth, I have as yet received no instructions as to the manner in
which he is to be treated; and until I do receive these, I cannot well
visit him.” He then gave me some precautionary orders to prevent his
escape, or any attempt to effect it. From which I give the extracts
below.

Extract of an Order from Admiral Viscount Keith, G.C.B., to
Captain Maitland, of H.M.S. Bellerophon, dated Hamoaze, July 26,
1815.

“In addition to the orders already received, you are to pay the
strictest regard and attention to the directions contained in the
enclosed extract of a letter from the Secretary of the Admiralty. If
General Gourgaud has not already been taken out of the Slaney, you are
to cause him to be removed immediately into the ship you command. I
enclose, for your information, a copy of a general order that I have
issued, (p. 124) forbidding communication with the ship you command;
and it is my intention to order the Liffey and Eurotas to anchor near
you, and to row guard.”

Extract of a Letter from the Secretary of the Admiralty to
Admiral Viscount Keith, G.C.B., dated 24th July, 1815, enclosed
in the foregoing.

“Referring your Lordship to Mr Croker’s letter of the 1st instant,
respecting Buonaparte, I am to signify their Lordships’ directions to
you, to give the most positive orders to Captain Maitland to prevent all
communication whatever with the shore but through him, and by him
through your Lordship; and on no account to permit any person whatsoever
to go on board the ship, without your Lordship’s permission given in
writing for that purpose; which permission, for obvious reasons, will
only be granted in such cases as the public service may require: and
proper measures are to be taken to prevent boats and small craft from
crowding near the Bellerophon.

(p. 125) “Your Lordship will restrict the captains and commanders of
your squadron from communicating, until further orders, with the
Bellerophon.”

There was also enclosed the following copy of a Memorandum,
addressed to the respective Captains of H.M. Ships Liffey and
Eurotas.

“Ville de Paris, in Hamoaze,
26th July, 1815.

“Memo:

“The Liffey and Eurotas are to take up an anchorage on each side of the
Bellerophon, at a convenient distance, and observe the following
directions, as well for the purpose of preventing the escape of
Buonaparte, or any of his suite, from that ship, as for restraining
shore-boats and others from approaching too close to her, either from
curiosity or any other motive.

“A constant watch of an officer, a quarter-watch, and double sentinels,
are to be kept by day, as well as a boat manned and armed alongside, in
constant readiness, as a guard-boat: (p. 126) the same precaution is to
be observed all night, with the exception, that one of the boats, in
charge of a lieutenant, is to row guard, and to be relieved every hour.

“No shore-boats, or others, are to be suffered, either by night or by
day, to approach nearer the Bellerophon than one cable’s length; and no
boats are to be permitted to loiter about the ship, even at that
distance, either from curiosity or any other motive: neither the
captains of the Liffey or Eurotas, nor any other officer belonging to
those or any other ships, are to go on board the Bellerophon, either to
visit, or on any pretence whatever, without permission from me in
writing.”

Signed, Keith, Admiral.

A Copy.

Keith, Admiral.
To the respective Captains of the
Liffey and Eurotas.

(p. 127) When I returned on board, I found the frigates had taken their
positions as directed in the last order, and their boats were
endeavouring as much as possible to keep the shore-boats at the
specified distance from the ship. I stated to Buonaparte what Lord Keith
had said; to which he answered, “I am extremely anxious to see the
Admiral, and therefore beg he will not stand upon ceremony: I shall be
satisfied to be treated as a private person, until the British
Government has determined in what light I am to be considered.” He then
complained of the two frigates being placed as guard-ships over him, “as
if,” said he, “I were not perfectly secure on board a British
line-of-battle ship;” and added, “The guard-ships’ boats have been
firing musquetry all the evening, to keep the shore-boats at a distance:
it disturbs and distresses me, and I shall be obliged to you to prevent
it, if it lies in your power.” I immediately sent to the (p. 128)
Captains of the frigates, to put a stop to the firing.

On the 27th of July, I received a letter from the Secretary of the
Admiralty, of which I give an extract:—

Extract of a Letter from the Secretary of the Admiralty,
addressed to Captain Maitland, of H.M.S. Bellerophon, dated 25th
July, 1815.

“I have received and laid before my Lords Commissioners of the
Admiralty, your letter of yesterday’s date, reporting your arrival in
the Bellerophon in Torbay, accompanied by the Myrmidon, having on board
Napoleon Buonaparte and suite, and transmitting a copy of a letter you
had addressed to Admiral Lord Keith, reporting your proceedings, under
the various circumstances which occurred prior to his embarkation, of
which their Lordships have been pleased to direct me to signify their
approval.”

(p. 129) I waited on Lord Keith in the morning, and carried with me
Buonaparte’s original letter to the Prince Regent, which General
Gourgaud had refused to deliver to Captain Sartorius: finding that one
of his own officers would not be allowed to proceed with it, he now
consented to its being forwarded through the Admiral. I reported to his
Lordship all the occurrences of the previous day; and that, in
consequence of the frequent repetition in the newspapers of its being
the intention of his Majesty’s Government to send Buonaparte to St
Helena, he, as well as the officers of his suite, had expressed much
uneasiness. I also carried a message from him, stating his desire to see
his Lordship, and that he would willingly waive all ceremony, and be
considered as a private person. To which Lord Keith answered, “I shall
now have no difficulty whatever, having received full instructions as to
the manner in which he is to be treated: he is to be considered
(p. 130) as a General Officer, and have the respect due to that rank
paid him, and no more: you may therefore say I shall wait on him
to-morrow forenoon.” He then put into my hands the following additional
orders.

Extract of a Letter from Admiral Viscount Keith, G.C.B.,
addressed to Captain Maitland, of H.M.S. Bellerophon, dated Ville
de Paris, Hamoaze, 27th July, 1815.

“I herewith transmit an extract of an order, containing certain
directions relative to Buonaparte and his suite, and you are forthwith
to carry the same into execution; sending on board the Liffey or
Myrmidon, with directions similar to those that have been addressed to
yourself, such of his suite as are to be withdrawn from the ship you
command.”

Extract of an Order from the Lords Commissioners of the
Admiralty, to Admiral Viscount Keith, G.C.B., dated July 25th,
1815.

“That he should give immediate orders, that, upon the arrival of the
Bellerophon, (p. 131) Napoleon Buonaparte should remain, until the
Prince Regent’s further pleasure shall be signified, on board of that,
or such other ship of war as we shall appoint, and shall not be
permitted on any account to come on shore; or to hold communication with
the shore, or with other vessels, either personally, or by writing. Not
more than four or five persons of his suite (exclusive of menial
servants) are to remain on board the same ship with himself: the
remainder of his suite are to be kept under similar restraint, on board
of other vessels of war. Napoleon Buonaparte is to be considered and
addressed as a General Officer.”

In consequence of those orders, several of the officers of inferior
rank, and some of the servants, were sent to the frigates appointed to
guard us.

In the afternoon Sir Richard and Lady Strachan, accompanied by Mrs
Maitland, (p. 132) came alongside the ship. Buonaparte was walking the
deck, and, when I told him my wife was in the boat, he went to the
gangway, pulled off his hat, and asked her if she would not come up and
visit him. She shook her head; and I informed him, that my orders were
so positive, I could not even allow her to come on board. He answered,
“C’est dur, ça.” “That is very hard.” And addressing himself to her,
“Milord Keith est un peu trop sevère; n’est-ce pas, Madame?” “Lord Keith
is a little too severe; is he not, Madam?” He then said to me, “Ma foi,
son portrait ne la flatte pas; elle est encore plus jolie que lui.” “I
assure you her portrait is not flattering; she is handsomer than it is.”
I told him Sir Richard Strachan was in the boat with her, and that he
was second in command of the Channel fleet: he bowed to him, and said,
“He appears a very young man to hold so high a rank.”

H.M.S. Bellerophon at Plymouth.

(p. 133) There were this day a great many boats round the ship, full of
people, among which were a number of well-dressed females. He expressed
himself in strong terms of admiration of the beauty of the English
women, and was desirous of knowing which were the ladies,—”les dames
comme il faut,” as he termed it; as they were all so well dressed that
he could not distinguish them.

In the evening a letter was sent to me by Lord Keith, of which I subjoin
an extract:—

Extract of a Letter from Admiral Viscount Keith, G.C.B.,
addressed to Captain Maitland of H.M.S. Bellerophon, dated Ville
de Paris, Hamoaze, 27th July, 1815.

“From the representation you have made to me of the dissatisfaction
expressed by Buonaparte, on observing by the newspapers that he was to
be sent to St Helena; it will be necessary that you redouble your
vigilance to prevent his escape; and you are therefore to station double
sentinels, and (p. 134) resort to every other means that may be
necessary for frustrating any such intention.”

On the 28th of July, Lord Keith came on board, between eleven and twelve
o’clock, and was shown by me into the cabin, where Count Bertrand
introduced him to Buonaparte. I immediately withdrew, and cannot
therefore state what passed between them; but Lord Keith afterwards
informed me, that Buonaparte had been very anxious to know whether the
Government had come to any determination with regard to his disposal; of
which his Lordship professed total ignorance.

After Lord Keith came out of the cabin, he remained some time with
Buonaparte’s suite, who were collected in the state room. Madame
Bertrand drew him aside, and entered into conversation with him, saying
what she had repeated to me a hundred times, that it would be the height
of injustice (p. 135) to send them to St Helena, and endeavouring to
persuade him to interfere in preventing her husband at least from going,
should Napoleon be sent there.

During the whole of the 29th of July it rained incessantly, and nothing
worth relating took place: the Frenchmen were deprived of their usual
amusement of admiring the ladies, and being admired in return, not a
boat having made its appearance. They often remarked, with the
characteristic vivacity of their nation, that they were placed in the
situation of Tantalus,—so many beauties in view, without the
possibility of approaching them.

On Sunday, the 30th of July, the crowd of boats was greater than I ever
remember to have seen at one time. I am certain I speak within bounds
when I state, that upwards of a thousand were collected round the ship,
in each of which, on an (p. 136) average, there were not fewer than
eight people. The crush was so great, as to render it quite impossible
for the guard-boats to keep them off; though a boat belonging to one of
the frigates made use of very violent means to effect it, frequently
running against small boats, containing women, with such force as nearly
to upset them, and alarming the ladies extremely. The French officers
were very indignant at such rude proceedings, saying, “Is this your
English liberty? Were such a thing to happen in France, the men would
rise with one accord and throw that officer and his crew overboard.”

After the ship’s arrival in England, Buonaparte seldom left the cabin
earlier than five o’clock in the afternoon; passing his time in walking
up and down the after-cabin, reading a great deal,[8] and often falling
(p. 137) asleep on the sopha, having within these two or three years
become very lethargic.

I this day informed him, that Lord Keith had received an intimation,
that Sir Henry Bunbury, one of the Under Secretaries of State, was to
arrive in the course of the day with the decision of the British
Government as to his future disposal. He asked me many questions, but,
although Lord Keith had acquainted me that Buonaparte was to go to St
Helena, he had at the same time desired me not to communicate this
information, and I was therefore obliged to evade his interrogatories as
I best could.

In the newspapers of this day there appeared the lists of persons
proscribed by the Government of France. Among the first class were the
names of Bertrand, Savary, and Lallemand: the first treated it with
derision, the two others appeared much alarmed, and often asked me if I
thought (p. 138) it possible the British Government would deliver them
up to Louis. I said, “Decidedly not; you have been received on board an
English man of war, and it never can be the intention of the Ministers
to deliver you over to punishment.” They were not, however, satisfied by
any means; and a French frigate, bearing the white flag, which lay in
Hamoaze, was an object of much jealousy to them.

When I waited on Lord Keith, the morning of the 31st of July, he
acquainted me that Sir Henry Bunbury had arrived, and was to accompany
him on board at ten o’clock. He also showed me a notification of the
decision of Government respecting Buonaparte, in which he was styled
General throughout. It stated, that he was to be sent to St Helena, and
to be permitted to take with him three of the higher class of those that
had accompanied him from France, and twelve (p. 139) domestics, who
were to be selected by himself, with the exception of Savary and
Lallemand, who were not on any account to be permitted to go with him. I
immediately returned on board, to be in readiness to receive Lord Keith
and Sir Henry Bunbury; and informed Buonaparte, that he might expect
them. He asked me if I knew what they were to communicate; and having
then received his Lordship’s sanction for doing so, I told him, I
understood it was determined he was to be sent to St Helena. His mind
had, by this time, been so much prepared by the newspapers for that
event, that he did not show any very strong emotion at receiving the
intimation; though he complained, in strong terms, of the injustice of
such a measure. As, however, the Admiral’s barge was seen approaching,
and I was obliged to go upon deck to receive him, I had very little
conversation with him at that time.

(p. 140) Lord Keith and Sir Henry Bunbury arrived about half-past ten in
the forenoon, when I showed them into the cabin, where Buonaparte was
attended by Count Bertrand. I then withdrew, leaving them shut up with
him for about half an hour, when Lord Keith called me into the
fore-cabin, where all the suite were assembled, and I presented each of
them to the Admiral and Sir Henry. They all appeared very much
distressed, but particularly Savary and Lallemand; who were extremely
urgent to know how they were to be disposed of; protesting, most
vehemently, against their being given up to France, as a breach of all
faith and honour. Madame Bertrand again tried to induce Lord Keith to
use his influence with our Government, to prevent Bertrand from
accompanying Buonaparte to St Helena.

As soon as the Admiral had left the ship, Buonaparte sent for me, and
showed (p. 141) me the same paper Lord Keith had communicated to me in
the morning. When I had read it, he complained vehemently of his
treatment in being sent to St Helena, saying, “The idea of it is perfect
horror to me. To be placed for life on an island within the Tropics, at
an immense distance from any land, cut off from all communication with
the world, and every thing that I hold dear in it!—c’est pis que la
cage de fer de Tamerlan. (It is worse than Tamerlane’s iron cage.) I
would prefer being delivered up to the Bourbons. Among other insults,”
said he,—”but that is a mere bagatelle, a very secondary
consideration,—they style me General! they can have no right to call me
General; they may as well call me Archbishop, for I was head of the
church, as well as the army. If they do not acknowledge me as Emperor,
they ought as First Consul; they have sent Ambassadors to me as such;
and your King, in his letters, styled me brother. (p. 142) Had they
confined me in the Tower of London, or one of the fortresses in England,
(though not what I had hoped from the generosity of the English people,)
I should not have so much cause of complaint; but to banish me to an
island within the Tropics! They might as well have signed my
death-warrant at once, as it is impossible a man of my habit of body can
live long in such a climate.”

He then expressed a desire to write another letter to the Prince Regent;
and I carried it the same afternoon to Lord Keith, by whom it was
immediately forwarded to London.

Generals Savary and Lallemand this day made many appeals to me on the
injustice of our Government delivering them up to France; saying they
had not a doubt it was intended, else why except them from accompanying
the Emperor, as they were (p. 143) both married men, and Savary the
father of a large family:—it was not the wish of either to have gone to
St Helena; but their being expressly excepted, and their names appearing
in the list of proscribed, was but too sure a proof of their intended
fate. Savary added, “Were I to be allowed a fair and impartial trial, I
should have nothing to fear, never having accepted a situation under
Louis; but at present, when faction runs so high, I should inevitably be
sacrificed to the fury of party. Lallemand’s case is quite different: he
held a command under the King, and, on Napoleon’s return from Elba,
joined him with his troops; therefore, his situation would at any time
be a dangerous one:—but I lived in the country all the time Louis was
in France, and did not come forward until Buonaparte’s arrival in Paris,
when he directed me to take the command of the Gendarmerie.”

Lallemand said, “My reason for coming (p. 144) on board the Bellerophon
with Las Cases on the morning of the 14th, was to ascertain whether
there would be a risk of any of the Emperor’s followers being delivered
up to the French Government, in the event of their accompanying him to
England; when you assured me there could be no danger of it.” I replied,
“My answer to you was, that I was of opinion there could be no risk of
the British Government taking such a step; and I see no reason now to
alter that opinion. As I have received you on board the Bellerophon, I
consider you under the protection of the British flag, and myself, in a
great measure, responsible for your personal safety; and under that
impression I will write on the subject to Lord Melville, as the Minister
under whose immediate control I act, that your minds may be set at rest,
though, I repeat, you run no hazard of being sent to France.” The same
evening, before I went to bed, I wrote the letter which follows:—

(p. 145) “H.M.S. Bellerophon,
Plymouth Sound, 31st July, 1815.

“My Lord,

“I am induced to address your Lordship in consequence of having
observed, in the intimation delivered to Napoleon Buonaparte of the
number of persons allowed to accompany him to the Island of St Helena,
that the names of Savary and Lallemand are expressly excepted, which,
together with their being proscribed in the French newspapers, has
created in them a belief that it is the intention of His Majesty’s
Government to deliver them up to the King of France. Far be it from me
to assume such an idea; but I hope your Lordship will make allowance for
the feelings of an officer who has nothing so dear to him as his honour,
and who could not bear that a stain should be affixed to a name he has
ever endeavoured to bear unblemished. These two men, Savary and
Lallemand (what their characters or conduct in their (p. 146) own
country may be I know not), threw themselves under the protection of the
British flag; that protection was granted them with the sanction of my
name. It is true, no conditions were stipulated for; but I acted in the
full confidence that their lives would be held sacred, or they should
never have put foot in the ship I command, without being made acquainted
that it was for the purpose of delivering them over to the laws of their
country.

“I again beg leave to repeat to your Lordship, that I am far from
supposing it to be the intention of His Majesty’s Government to deliver
these men over to the laws of their country; but, as they are strongly
impressed with that belief, and I look upon myself as the cause of their
being in their present situation, I most earnestly beg your Lordship’s
influence may be exerted that two men may not be brought to the scaffold
who claimed (p. 147) and obtained at my hands the protection of the
British flag.

“I have the honour to be,
&c. &c. &c.
“Fred. L. Maitland.”

“The Viscount Melville,
&c. &c. &c.”

I felt convinced that Buonaparte, after the notification he had
received, would be too much depressed in spirits to make his appearance
on deck this day; and sent a boat to some of my friends, who were
waiting in hopes of seeing him, to say there was no chance of his coming
out, as he was much distressed at the communication which had been made
to him. I was, therefore, a good deal surprised, on turning round, to
find him standing at my elbow; and I can only account for his showing
himself as usual, by supposing either that he was not in fact so much
annoyed as I had believed (p. 148) him to be, or that he was actuated
by a desire of creating a feeling of commiseration among the English
people in his behalf.

At dinner he conversed as usual; and, indeed, it was quite astonishing
with what elasticity his spirits regained their usual cheerfulness,
after such trials and disappointments. He never, in my hearing,
threatened to commit suicide; nor do I believe he did on any occasion:
the only expression I ever heard him make use of, that could in any way
be construed into such a threat, was, that he would not go to St
Helena,—”Je n’irai pas à St Hélène.”

As Buonaparte always retired early to bed, it was the custom for the
French ladies and officers to assemble every evening in the ward-room,
and partake of wine and water, punch, or bishop—a mixture consisting of
Port, Madeira, nutmeg, and (p. 149) other ingredients, well known to
sailors, and much relished by our foreign guests.

I was sitting this evening next Montholon, when Madame Bertrand entered;
I said to her, “Will you not sit down and take something?” She gave an
answer which I took for No; and passed rapidly into the first
lieutenant’s cabin, which she had occupied since she came on board.
Montholon, who had observed her with more attention than I had done,
immediately rose and followed her. There was instantly a shriek from the
cabin, and a great uproar; and some one called out ‘The Countess is
overboard.’ I ran upon deck, that, in the event of its being so, a boat
might be lowered down, or the guard-boats called to her assistance. On
looking over the quarter, and seeing no splash in the water, I felt
satisfied it was a false alarm, and returned to the ward-room. Madame
Bertrand had by this time (p. 150) been placed on her bed, where she
was lying in strong hysterics, at intervals abusing the English nation
and its Government, in the most vehement and unmeasured terms; sometimes
in French and sometimes in English. Lallemand was walking up and down
the ward-room much agitated, joining in the abuse; saying, among other
things, “that it was horrible to bring a set of people on board the ship
for the purpose of butchering them.” I turned to him, and said,
“Monsieur Lallemand, what a woman says in the state of violent
irritation that Madame Bertrand at present is, I consider of little
consequence, and am willing to make every allowance for the situation
you are placed in; but I cannot stand by and hear such terms used of the
Government of my country; and if you do not desist, or make use of more
respectful language, I shall be under the necessity of taking measures
that will be very unpleasant both to you and myself.”

(p. 151) This had the effect of silencing him. When the bustle had
subsided, I retired to my cabin, and was employed in writing the
foregoing letter to Lord Melville, in behalf of Messrs Savary and
Lallemand; when the latter, attended by Generals Montholon and Gourgaud,
came in. They immediately entered into conversation with me about the
cruelty of their situation: among many other things, they said, “You may
depend upon it, the Emperor never will go to St Helena; he will sooner
put himself to death; he is a man of determined character, and what he
says he will do.” “Has he ever said he will put himself to death?” I
asked. They answered, “No; but he has said he will not go, which amounts
to the same thing; and were he to consent himself, here are three of us
who are determined to prevent him.” I told them they had better consider
the consequences well, before they ventured on a measure of that kind.

(p. 152) The next day, August 1st, 1815, I waited on Lord Keith, and
reported all that had occurred during the preceding day. I also showed
him the letter I had written and meant to send to Lord Melville,
respecting Generals Savary and Lallemand; he read it, and said, “that
though he did not agree with me in opinion as to my honour or character
being implicated, yet that he saw no harm in the letter.” He then said,
“You may tell those gentlemen who have threatened to be Buonaparte’s
executioners, that the law of England awards death to murderers, and
that the certain consequence of such an act will be finishing their
career on a gallows.”

After quitting his Lordship, I had an interview with Sir Henry Bunbury,
previous to his setting out for London, and stated to him my feelings
respecting the cruelty of delivering up to the French Government, men
who had been received under the (p. 153) protection of the British
flag. I said that I had no belief myself that any such intention
existed; but that they were so strongly impressed with the conviction of
it, that I had been induced to write to Lord Melville, and now begged to
state to him, that I should consider myself dishonoured for ever, if
they suffered death through my means. He listened, but did not speak
till I had finished; when he told me he would repeat what I had said to
his Majesty’s Ministers.

Madame Bertrand kept her bed the whole of this day, and did not appear
at dinner. When Buonaparte came upon deck, he asked Mr O’Meara, the
surgeon, after her health; and then said, with an incredulous smile, “Do
you really think, Doctor, she meant to drown herself?” I put the same
question to Montholon; who said he had not a doubt of it, for, when he
followed her into the cabin, she was in (p. 154) the act of throwing
herself out of the gallery window; that he rushed forward and caught
hold of her, and that she continued suspended by the bar that goes
across the window, with the greater part of her body hanging out, until
he received assistance to drag her in. The bar above-mentioned had been
placed there for the purpose of preventing people from falling overboard
when the window was open and the ship had much motion at sea.

On returning on board after being with Lord Keith, I went into Madame
Bertrand’s cabin to see how she was, and found her in bed. I asked her,
how she could be so indiscreet as to attempt to destroy herself? “Oh! I
am driven to desperation,” she said; “I do not know what I do; I cannot
persuade my husband to remain behind, he being determined to accompany
the Emperor to St Helena.” She then ran into a great deal of abuse of
Napoleon, (p. 155) saying, “If his ends are served, he does not care
what becomes of other people. ‘Tis true he has always given Bertrand
lucrative and honourable situations, but the expense attending them is
such, that it was impossible to save money; and he has never given him a
grant of land, or any thing that permanently bettered our fortune.”[9]
On another occasion, she came into the cabin which I occupied, when I
was writing, and, after exacting a promise of secrecy towards the
remainder of the suite, she entreated I would take measures to prevent
her husband from accompanying Buonaparte, and begged me to write a
letter in her name to Lord Keith, to induce him (p. 156) to interfere.
I told her it would appear extremely officious in me to write on such a
subject, but that any thing she chose to put on paper I would deliver to
his Lordship. She did write, and I carried the letter; but his Lordship
declined interfering, desiring me to say, he considered it the duty of
every good wife to follow the fortunes of her husband. In the course of
the conversation above-mentioned, she became extremely warm in speaking
of Napoleon, saying, “He deserves nothing at our hands; and, indeed,
there is not one of his people who would not most gladly quit him.”
Whenever she became animated, she could not pour out her feelings in the
English language fast enough, (though she spoke it remarkably well,
having received her education partly in England,) when she had always
recourse to French; and though I frequently reminded her that there was
nothing but a piece of canvass between us and the ward-room, where there
were (p. 157) generally some of the French officers, I could by no
means keep her within bounds. The consequence of which was, that all she
said was heard and understood by one of them. When Madame Bertrand had
left me, Count Montholon requested to speak with me in private. He
carried me up to his cabin on the quarter-deck, where I found Generals
Gourgaud and Lallemand, who told me they had been informed of what
Madame Bertrand had said to me; and they had requested to see me, for
the purpose of contradicting her assertion, that they were desirous of
quitting Buonaparte: that, so far from that being the case, there was
not one of them that would not follow him with pleasure wherever he
might be sent, or that would not lay down his life to serve him: they
also required secrecy towards the Countess. I answered, “Why really,
gentlemen, this is very extraordinary; you pretend to know all that
passed in a private conversation I have had with (p. 158) Madame
Bertrand, and then to bind me to secrecy: you may depend upon it, I will
enter into no such engagement, until I know by what means you obtained
your information.” They then told me that one of them had been in the
quarter-gallery, and overheard all she said.

Nothing of importance occurred during the 2nd of August. Buonaparte did
not appear upon deck; nor would he consent to nominate the people who
were to accompany him to St Helena; he still seemed to indulge a hope,
that the Government might be induced to reconsider the decision. I had
half an hour’s conversation with him in the cabin: it consisted, on his
part, of complaints of the cruelty of sending him to St Helena. He
likewise asked me many questions about that island, as to its extent,
climate, and productions, whether it would be possible to take exercise
on horseback, if there was game of any kind upon it, &c.: (p. 159) to
all of which I could only answer from report, never having visited the
island myself. He conversed very little at dinner, and appeared unwell.
In the evening, General Bertrand informed me that the sentinel’s calling
out “All’s well!” during the night disturbed him, and prevented his
sleeping; upon which I gave directions they should not do so while he
remained on board.

During the 3rd of August Buonaparte kept his cabin. When I went to the
Admiral, I met him escorting some ladies, in company with Sir William
Lemon, to the Ville de Paris’s barge. On being introduced to Sir
William, he told me that a report was in circulation that a boat was to
have been under the Bellerophon’s stern the night before, at ten
o’clock, for the purpose of effecting Buonaparte’s escape. Although I
gave no credit to the report, I immediately returned on board, and asked
the first lieutenant if Buonaparte had been seen (p. 160) that morning;
he informed me that he had not attended breakfast, and that no person
had seen him but his own people. I then sent to the Eurotas, which lay
astern of the ship, to enquire if he had appeared at the stern windows;
but was answered in the negative: upon which I desired one of the young
gentlemen to go out on the spanker-boom and look into the cabin windows,
to ascertain if he was sitting on the sofa; but he could not discover
him in any part of the cabin. I then became extremely uneasy, and sent
my servant in to bring some paper out, who on entering found the object
of my anxiety stretched out on his bed with his clothes on, and the
curtains drawn close round him, with every appearance of being unwell. I
had before asked Count Bertrand about him, who said he had passed a bad
night, and was too ill to leave his apartment.

Instead of retiring to his bed this evening (p. 161) between eight and
nine o’clock, as was his usual custom, I heard him and another person (I
believe General Bertrand) pacing up and down the cabin until past
eleven; and in consequence gave directions to the officer of the watch
and the sentries to be particularly vigilant; and ordered one of the
guard-boats to remain under the ship’s stern all night. He had still
declined all this day giving a list of those that he wished to attend
him to St Helena.

At three in the morning of the 4th of August, the officer of the watch
brought me a letter from Lord Keith, informing me that a courier had
just arrived from London, and that it was probable the ship would be
required to put to sea at a moment’s notice. In consequence of this
order, we unmoored at daylight, bent the top-gallant sails, and made
other preparations for getting under weigh. The Frenchmen were very
watchful of all our motions, (p. 162) appeared much alarmed and
annoyed, and questioned me frequently as to the cause. I told them, what
was literally the fact, that I had received directions to be ready to
put to sea, but had no orders to carry it into effect; and that was all
I knew.

Between seven and eight o’clock, I waited on Lord Keith, who said he had
received information that a habeas corpus had been taken out for the
purpose of bringing Buonaparte on shore, and that a lawyer was on his
way down to serve it; desiring me, therefore, to be ready to put to sea
whenever the signal might be made.

On returning on board, I had an interview with Buonaparte, who was very
urgent to know why the ship was preparing for sea. I told him, by Lord
Keith’s directions, that it was the intention of our Government, his
removal should take place at sea; and that we were going out to meet the
Northumberland, (p. 163) the ship which was to convey him to St Helena.

He begged I would write to Lord Keith, and say he wished very much to
see him; and Count Bertrand told me he was also desirous of having the
newspapers. I accordingly wrote to his Lordship, who was then on board
the Tonnant: who, however, declined visiting him, but sent me a note, of
which the following is an extract.

Extract of a Note from Admiral Viscount Keith, addressed to
Captain Maitland, of H.M.S. Bellerophon, dated Tonnant, 4th
August.

“I send you the paper, and shall be glad to hear the determination of
the General, whom you may inform that the answer is arrived from London,
and that I have no authority to alter, in any degree, any part of the
former communication; which induces me to wish the selection of the
persons he is inclined should attend him.”

(p. 164) I communicated the contents to General Bertrand, who made his
report to Buonaparte. On his coming out of the cabin, I pressed him on
the subject of nominating those that were to go with him to St Helena;
but the only answer he returned was, “L’Empereur n’ira pas à St
Hélène;”—the Emperor will not go to St Helena.

Soon after nine o’clock, the Bellerophon’s signal was made to prepare to
weigh, and at half-past nine to weigh: we immediately started. As the
light air of wind that blew was right into the Sound, and the flood-tide
against us, the guard-boats were sent ahead to tow; but, soon observing
a suspicious-looking person in a boat approaching the ship, I ordered
one of them to cast off, keep under the ship’s stern, and not allow any
shore boat, under any pretext, to come near us. The person alluded to
proved afterwards to have been the lawyer mentioned by Lord Keith; not
with a Habeas (p. 165) Corpus, but a subpœna for Buonaparte to
attend a trial at the Court of King’s Bench as a witness. He was,
however, foiled: as Lord Keith avoided him, and got on board the
Prometheus, off the Ramehead, where he remained until joined by the
Tonnant; while the guard-boat prevented him from approaching near enough
to the Bellerophon, to serve his writ on me.[10]

(p. 166) While the ship was working out of the Sound, two well-dressed
women in a boat (p. 167) kept as close to her as the guard-boat would
allow, and, whenever Buonaparte appeared (p. 168) at the stern windows,
stood up and waved their handkerchiefs.

On joining the Prometheus off the Ramehead, where Lord Keith’s flag was
then flying, I received the following note from his Lordship.

No date; received August 4th, in the Afternoon.

“I have been chased all day by a lawyer with a Habeas Corpus: he is
landed at Cawsand, and may come off in a sailing-boat during the night;
of course, keep all sorts of boats off, as I will do the like in
whatever ship I may be in.

Keith.”

“Captain Maitland.”

Buonaparte wrote another letter this evening to the Prince Regent, which
I carried to Lord Keith, who again told me of his having been chased all
day by a lawyer: who had first started him out of his own house, then
followed him to the (p. 169) Tonnant, where he attempted to get in at
one side, as his Lordship left her on the other; he afterwards pursued
him towards Cawsand, but the Admiral being in a twelve-oared barge,
out-rowed him, and gave him the slip round the Ramehead. It was on his
return from this chase that he attempted to get on board the
Bellerophon.

Buonaparte now confined himself entirely to his cabin, never coming on
deck, or appearing at breakfast or dinner. He was not served from the
table, but what he ate was prepared and carried in to him by Marchand,
his favourite valet de chambre. Messrs Bertrand and Las Cases passed
much time with him; and this evening the protest was prepared, which
will appear in the sequel.

On the morning of the 5th of August, the weather was overcast, with a
strong breeze (p. 170) of wind, and the sea began to rise, much to the
discomposure of my poor French guests. Soon after breakfast, my signal
being made from the Tonnant, where Lord Keith had now hoisted his flag,
I told General Bertrand that I was going to the Admiral, and would
convey anything Buonaparte had to say to him. He requested I would wait
until a letter or paper, then under preparation, was finished, which was
intended for me, but a copy to be presented to Lord Keith. I waited
nearly an hour, when he brought me Buonaparte’s protest. I delivered it
to the Admiral, stating at the same time that I wished to have a copy;
and was afterwards furnished with one by his Lordship’s secretary. I
insert it here.

Buonaparte’s Protest.

“Je proteste solennellement ici, à la face du Ciel et des hommes, contre
la violence qui m’est faite, contre la violation de mes (p. 171) droits
les plus sacrés, en disposant par la force, de ma personne et de ma
liberté.

“Je suis venu librement à bord du Bellerophon; je ne suis point
prisonnier; je suis l’hôte de l’Angleterre. J’y suis venu à
l’instigation même du Capitaine qui a dit avoir des ordres du
Gouvernement de me recevoir, et de me conduire en Angleterre avec ma
suite, si cela m’étoit agréable. Je me suis présenté de bonne foi pour
venir me mettre sous la protection des loix d’Angleterre. Aussitôt assis
à bord du Bellerophon, je fus sur le foyer du peuple Britannique. Si le
Gouvernement, en donnant des ordres au Capitaine du Bellerophon, de me
recevoir ainsi que ma suite, n’a voulu que tendre une embûche, il a
forfait à l’honneur et flêtri son pavillon. Si cet acte se consommoit,
ce seroit en vain que les Anglais voudroient parler à l’Europe de leur
loyauté, de leur loix, et de leur liberté. La foi Britannique s’y
trouvera perdue dans l’hospitalité (p. 172) du Bellerophon. J’en
appelle à l’histoire; elle dira qu’un ennemi qui fit vingt ans la guerre
aux peuples Anglois, vint librement, dans son infortune, chercher un
asile sous ses loix. Quelle plus éclatante preuve pouvait-il lui donner
de son estime et de sa confiance? Mais comment répondit-on en Angleterre
à une telle magnanimité?—On feignit de tendre une main hospitalière à
cet ennemi, et quand il se fut livré de bonne foi, on l’immola.

“Signé, Napoléon.”

À bord du Bellerophon,
4 Août, 1815.

TRANSLATION.

Buonaparte’s Protest.

“I hereby solemnly protest, in the face of Heaven and of men, against
the violence done me, and against the violation of my most sacred
rights, in forcibly disposing of my person and my liberty. I came
voluntarily (p. 173) on board of the Bellerophon; I am not a prisoner,
I am the guest of England. I came on board even at the instigation of
the Captain, who told me he had orders from the Government to receive me
and my suite, and conduct me to England, if agreeable to me. I presented
myself with good faith to put myself under the protection of the English
laws. As soon as I was on board the Bellerophon, I was under shelter of
the British people.

“If the Government, in giving orders to the Captain of the Bellerophon
to receive me as well as my suite, only intended to lay a snare for me,
it has forfeited its honour and disgraced its flag.

“If this act be consummated, the English will in vain boast to Europe of
their integrity, their laws, and their liberty. British good faith will
be lost in the hospitality of the Bellerophon.

(p. 174) “I appeal to History; it will say that an enemy, who for twenty
years waged war against the English people, came voluntarily, in his
misfortunes, to seek an asylum under their laws. What more brilliant
proof could he give of his esteem and his confidence? But what return
did England make for so much magnanimity? They feigned to stretch forth
a friendly hand to that enemy; and when he delivered himself up in good
faith, they sacrificed him.

“Signed, Napoleon.”

“On board the Bellerophon,
4th August 1815.”

On the above I shall only observe, that no snare had been laid, either
on the part of His Majesty’s Government or mine. I was placed before
Rochefort for the open purpose of preventing Buonaparte from making his
escape from that port; and the exertions of myself and those under my
command had been so completely successful, that the (p. 175) intention
of forcing past the ships under my orders, as well as every other plan
proposed, of which there appear to have been several, were abandoned as
utterly hopeless. And so far was I from seeking communication with
Napoleon, that all the flags of truce proceeding from him, were strongly
reprobated by me, as improper, except in extraordinary cases, and were
only resorted to when, as appears from Lord Keith’s letter of the 23rd
of July, orders had been sent from Paris for his arrest, and when (as
has since been proved) one or more intimations had been given by the
officer commanding in Isle d’Aix, that, if he did not depart, he would
be under the necessity of detaining him. Besides, it is now perfectly
ascertained, that the determination of repairing to England was adopted
at a consultation held by Buonaparte on the night of the 13th of July,
when his letter to the Prince Regent was written; and Messrs Las Cases
and Lallemand were sent on the morning of (p. 176) the 14th to discover
if I would receive him on board the Bellerophon, and convey him to that
country.

On the morning of the 6th of August, when walking the deck with Monsieur
Las Cases, he for the first time mentioned, that he understood me to
have assured him that the Emperor would be well received in England, and
allowed to reside there. I replied, “I cannot conceive how you could so
far misunderstand me, as I constantly, in my communications with you,
stated that I could make no promises whatever: that I thought my orders
would bear me out in receiving him on board, and conveying him to
England; but even in doing that, I acted very much upon my own
responsibility. You questioned me frequently, as to my private opinion;
and as I was quite ignorant upon the subject, I could only say I had no
reason to believe he would be ill received.” It did not, however,
require my assistance (p. 177) to raise the hopes of those about
Buonaparte, respecting the manner in which he was to be received in
England; as one of his followers, on the passage home, asked me if I
thought the Prince Regent would confer the order of the Garter upon him.
If there was any misunderstanding, (which I cannot allow to have been
the case,) Monsieur Las Cases has himself to blame. When he came on
board of the Bellerophon for the purpose of treating, he concealed his
knowledge of the English language; which, as I had considerable
difficulty in expressing myself in French, could only be intended for
the purpose of throwing me off my guard, that he might take advantage of
any expressions that fell from me, or the officers I had always present
at our meetings. Even after he was on board with Buonaparte, though he
acknowledged he could read English, and always translated the newspapers
for his master, he affected not to be able to speak it. What his actual
(p. 178) knowledge of the language was, the following extract of a
letter, from a friend of mine on board the Northumberland, dated at sea,
August the 22nd, 1815, will show:

“I do not know, whether Las Cases ever let you know he could speak
English; but this I can assure you, that he speaks it very near as well
as Madame Bertrand, and can hold a conversation, or maintain an argument
in it, with as much fluency as she can.”

This forenoon, I had a long conversation with Buonaparte. He complained
bitterly of the conduct of the British Government; and entered, at
considerable length, into the state of his affairs when he determined
upon the measure of repairing on board the Bellerophon. “There still,”
said he, “was a large party in the South, that wished me to put myself
at its head; the army behind the Loire was also desirous of my return.
At ten o’clock of the night before I embarked, (p. 179) a deputation
from the garrison of Rochelle waited upon me, with an offer to conduct
me to the army; in addition to which, the troops that were in Rochefort,
Bourdeaux, and Isle d’Aix, amounting to twelve thousand men, were at my
disposal. But I saw there was no prospect of ultimate success, though I
might have occasioned a great deal of trouble and bloodshed, which I did
not choose should take place on my account individually;—while the
Empire was at stake, it was another matter.”

In the afternoon, Mr O’Meara, the surgeon, informed me that General
Savary had made a proposal to him to accompany Buonaparte to St Helena
as his medical attendant; Monsieur Maingaut, his surgeon, being a young
man with whom he was little acquainted, having suffered so much from
seasickness in the passage from Rochefort, that he felt averse to
undertaking another sea voyage. He consulted me as to the propriety
(p. 180) of accepting the offer. I told him it must depend very much
upon his own feelings; but if he had no dislike to it, he had better
accept the proposal, on condition that our Government consented, and
agreed to pay his salary; but, in that case, an official communication
must pass, through me, to the Admiral on the subject. This was the first
intimation I received of Buonaparte having made any arrangement towards
complying with the notification he had received from our Government.

About nine A.M. a large ship was seen to leeward, which, on closing,
proved to be the Northumberland. The whole squadron then stood in, and
anchored to the westward of Berryhead. I went on board the Tonnant, and
reported to Lord Keith that Buonaparte had at last made up his mind to
move from the Bellerophon without force being used; and that Count
Bertrand was desirous of seeing his Lordship, that he might make the
(p. 181) necessary arrangements about the people who were to accompany
him. By the Admiral’s directions, I returned to my ship and brought
Monsieur Bertrand to him. Soon after Sir George Cockburn arrived, and
they were shut up together for nearly two hours.

When I first went on board the Tonnant, I received a memorandum from
Lord Keith, from which I give an extract; and at the same time a verbal
intimation, that I should receive an order in writing the next day, to,
remove Buonaparte, and such part of his suite as he might select, to the
Northumberland.

Extract of a Memorandum from Admiral Viscount Keith, G.C.B.,
addressed to Captain Maitland, of H.M.S. Bellerophon, dated
Tonnant, off the Start, 6th August, 1815.

“All arms of every description are to be taken from the Frenchmen of all
ranks on board the ship you command; and they are (p. 182) to be
carefully packed up and kept in your charge, while they remain on board
the Bellerophon; and afterwards in that of the captain of the ship to
which they may be removed.”

While we were at dinner, Generals Bertrand and Montholon were employed
making out lists of what would be required by the French officers and
the ladies, to render them comfortable during their voyage to St Helena,
which were despatched to Plymouth by Sir George Cockburn’s secretary.

In the course of the evening Lord Keith and Sir George Cockburn came on
board the Bellerophon; when the latter was introduced to Buonaparte.

As soon as General Bertrand was at leisure, I told him I had orders to
remove Napoleon to the Northumberland the following day, and also to
take away the arms (p. 183) from him and his attendants, giving him to
understand that they would be returned on their arrival at their
destination. He seemed much hurt at being deprived of his arms, but said
he would give directions for their being delivered; and I received them
the next morning, with the exception of Buonaparte’s sword, which, by an
order I subsequently received from Lord Keith, he was permitted to wear,
when quitting the ship.

About half-past nine in the evening, Mons. Bertrand told me that
Buonaparte was desirous of seeing me. On going into his cabin, he said,
“Bertrand informs me you have received orders to remove me to the
Northumberland; is it so?” I answered in the affirmative. “Have you any
objection,” he said, “to writing a letter to Bertrand, acquainting him
of it; that I may have a document to prove that I was forced to quit the
ship, and that my inclinations (p. 184) were not consulted.” I replied,
“I can have no objection to write such a letter, and shall do it this
evening.” I was then going to retire, when he requested me to remain,
having more to say. “Your Government,” he continued, “has treated me
with much severity, and in a very different way from what I had hoped
and expected, from the opinion I had formed of the character of your
countrymen. It is true I have always been the enemy of England, but it
has ever been an open and declared one; and I paid it the highest
compliment it was possible for man to do in throwing myself on the
generosity of your Prince: I have not now to learn, however, that it is
not fair to judge of the character of a people by the conduct of their
Government.” He then went on, (alluding to the Government,) “They say 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 (p. 185) express it, ‘air and
water.’ My only wish was to purchase a small property in England, and
end my life there in peace and tranquillity. As for you, Capitaine,”
(the name by which he always addressed me) “I have no cause of
complaint; your conduct to me has been that of a man of honour; but I
cannot help feeling the severity of my fate, in having the prospect of
passing the remainder of my life on a desert island. But,” added he with
a strong emphasis, “if your Government give up Savary and Lallemand to
the King of France, they will inflict a stain upon the British name that
no time can efface.” I told him, in that respect, they were under an
erroneous impression; that I was convinced it was not the intention of
his Majesty’s Ministers to deliver them up. “Je l’espère,” “I hope so;”
was his only reply.—I then took my leave of him for the night.

That I may not break in upon the occurrences (p. 186) of the 7th, I
shall here insert the letter I wrote at Buonaparte’s request, and a copy
of the orders under which I acted in removing him from the Bellerophon
to the Northumberland.

“H.M.S. Bellerophon, Start Bay,
7th August, 1815.

“Sir,

“I beg to acquaint you that I have this day received orders from Lord
Keith, Commander in Chief of the Channel Fleet, to remove General
Buonaparte from the ship I command, to his Majesty’s ship
Northumberland; and I have to request you will intimate the above to the
General, that he may prepare for the removal.

“I likewise enclose a copy of an order respecting the arms of General
Buonaparte and the whole of his attendants, and request you will give
directions for their being (p. 187) delivered to me, that they may be
disposed of as the order directs.

“I have the honour to be,
&c. &c. &c.
Fred. L. Maitland.”

“Lieut. General Count Bertrand.”

Copy of the order alluded to.

“By the Right Hon. Viscount Keith, G.C.B.,
&c. &c. &c.

“You are hereby required and directed to deliver the persons, named
below, into the charge of Rear Admiral Sir George Cockburn.

“Given on board the Tonnant,
At anchor under Berryhead,
7th August, 1815.
Keith, Admiral.

“By command of the Admiral,
“James Meek, Secretary.”

“To F. L. Maitland, Esq.
Captain of H.M.S. Bellerophon.”
(p. 188) General Buonaparte.
Count Bertrand, his Wife, three children, one female servant, and her child.
General Montholon, his Wife, one child, and one female servant.
General Gourgaud.
Le Comte de Las Cases, and his son.
Marchand, Premier Valet de Chambre.
St Denis, ditto.
Novarra, ditto.
Piéron, Chef d’Office.
Le Page, Cuisinier.
Archambaud, Premier Valet de Pied.
Gentilini, Valet de Pied.
Bernard, domestique du Comte Bertrand.

The four domestics underneath, who had come to England in the Myrmidon,
also accompanied him:—

Cipriani, Maître d’Hôtel.
Santini, Huissier.
Rousseau, Lampiste.
Archambaud, Valet de Pied.

(p. 189) Extract of a Letter from Admiral Viscount Keith, G.C.B.,
addressed to Captain Maitland, of H.M.S. Bellerophon, dated
Tonnant, off Berryhead, 7th August, 1815.

“When the General quits the ship, it is not intended to take his sword
from him, but to let him wear it, but not the others. Pistols, guns, &c.
must, as in all instances, be removed for the safety of the ship, but
the arms are carefully to be kept, and restored at a proper occasion.”

On the morning of the 7th of August, 1815, Count Las Cases made an
application to me for permission to wait on Lord Keith, having a
communication to make to him. I, in consequence, went to his Lordship,
and obtained leave to send him. When the Admiral came on board the
Bellerophon, in the forenoon, to attend Buonaparte in his removal to the
Northumberland, he informed me that Monsieur Las Cases had represented
to him, that I had promised Buonaparte should (p. 190) be well received
in England, and allowed to remain there; and the same day he wrote a
letter to me containing the above statement, and directing me to report
upon it, which I afterwards did, as will hereafter appear.

Count Bertrand was employed, during the morning, making out a list of
those that were to proceed to St Helena with Buonaparte, in which
General Gourgaud’s name was omitted, and Colonel Planat was nominated
his Secretary. This offended Monsieur Gourgaud so much, that he made use
of some very strong language to General Bertrand; and after a good deal
of altercation, it was arranged, I believe by Buonaparte himself, that
Gourgaud should take Planat’s place. There was also another cause of
disagreement. The number of domestics allowed to go to St Helena being
only twelve, did not admit of all the officers taking their personal
attendants; General (p. 191) Montholon was obliged to leave a servant
who had been with him many years, and Count Bertrand’s was the only
exception.

General Bertrand had been so much employed all the morning making
preparations for their removal, that he did not come to breakfast until
every one had finished; his wife remained at the table, as I did also,
as a mark of attention to him. She soon commenced an attack on her
husband, to induce him to quit Buonaparte and remain in England. He
seemed much distressed, but remained silent. At last, she turned to me,
and begged I would give an opinion, and use my influence in favour of
her proposal. I said, “Madame Bertrand, I have from the beginning
endeavoured to avoid meddling in the very unpleasant discussions that
have been going on for some days; but, as you demand my opinion, and
force me to give it, (p. 192) I must acquaint you that I think, if your
husband quits his master at such a time as the present, he will forfeit
the very high character he now bears in this country.” I then rose from
the table and went upon deck.

A short time after, Madame Bertrand came on deck, and, addressing me
with much indignation in her countenance, said, “So, Captain Maitland, I
hear the Emperor is not to have the whole of the after-cabin on board
the Northumberland.” I told her, I understood that Sir George Cockburn
had received orders to that effect. “They had better treat him like a
dog at once,” said she, “and put him down in the hold.” I had for
several days been kept in a state of irritation that cannot be
described, and such as few people have had an opportunity of
experiencing. Madame Bertrand had, it will be readily understood, some
share in (p. 193) causing this; and on her making the above remark, I
am sorry to say, the little self-possession that still remained gave
way, and I answered in these words, “Madam, you talk like a very foolish
woman; and if you cannot speak more to the purpose, or with more respect
of the Government I have the honour to serve, I request you will not
address yourself to me.” Just before she went out of the ship, however,
she came up to me in a conciliatory and friendly manner, that did her
the highest honour, and said, “Captain Maitland, you called me a very
foolish woman this morning, but I should be sorry to part with you on
bad terms; have you any objection to shake hands with me? as God knows
if we shall ever meet again.” “Very far from it,” I answered; “I should
be extremely sorry you left the ship without receiving my good wishes
for your happiness and prosperity; and if, in the warmth of my temper,
and under the (p. 194) harassing circumstances of my situation, I have
said anything unpleasant, I most sincerely beg your pardon, and hope you
will forgive and forget it.”

Soon after breakfast, Marchand came and said the Emperor wished to see
me: I went into the cabin. “I have requested to see you, Captain,” said
he, “to return you my thanks for your kindness and attention to me
whilst I have been on board the Bellerophon, and likewise to beg you
will convey them to the officers and ship’s company you command. My
reception in England has been very different from what I expected; but
it gives me much satisfaction to assure you, that I feel your conduct to
me throughout has been that of a gentleman and a man of honour.” He then
said, he was desirous of having Mr O’Meara, the surgeon of the
Bellerophon, to accompany him; and asked my opinion of him in his
medical capacity, (p. 195) as well as of his principles. I replied,
that I had the highest opinion of him, both for his skill and attention;
that he had given me so much satisfaction while under my command, that I
had procured his removal from two different ships in which he had served
with me previous to my appointment to the Bellerophon, that he might
accompany me; and that I was convinced he was a man of principle and
integrity. After conversing some time longer with him, during which he
spoke in the warmest terms of affection of General Bertrand, and the
obligations he felt to him for his remaining with him during his
adversity, when he knew strong efforts had been used to induce him to
abandon him, I took my leave; and this was the last time I was ever
alone with him.

Soon after, Sir George Cockburn came on board, attended by Mr Byng as
his secretary, for the purpose of examining Buonaparte’s (p. 196)
baggage: he had directions to apply to some person of his suite to
attend at the search. The proposal was made to Count Bertrand; but he
was so indignant at the measure, that he positively refused either to be
present himself or to direct any other person to superintend. General
Savary, however, consented, and was present, as well as Marchand. The
covers of the trunks were merely opened, and Mr Byng passed his hand
down the side, but the things were not unpacked. Once or twice, when the
door of the after-cabin was opened, Buonaparte expressed his obligation
to Mr Byng for the delicate manner in which he conducted the search, by
bowing to him. When they came to the boxes containing the money, of
which there were two, Marchand was permitted to take out such sum as was
considered necessary for paying the wages of the servants that were to
be left behind, and for other contingent expenses. (p. 197) One box,
containing four thousand gold Napoleons, was retained and put under my
charge, where it remained until my arrival in London, when I delivered
it to Sir Hudson Lowe to be restored to its owner, as will be seen by
the following order, receipts, &c.

“By the Right Hon. Viscount Keith, G.C.B.,
&c. &c. &c.

“You are hereby required and directed to receive into your custody such
a sum of money belonging to General Buonaparte, as will be delivered
into your charge by Rear-Admiral Sir George Cockburn, granting proper
receipts for the same.

“Given on board the Tonnant,
At anchor under Berryhead,
7th August, 1815,
“Keith, Admiral.”

“To F. L. Maitland, Esq.
Captain of H.M.S. Bellerophon.”

(p. 198) “J’ai laissé le sept d’août, à bord du Bellerophon, à Monsieur
le Capitaine Maitland, une somme de quatre vingt mille francs, en quatre
mille Napoleons d’or.

“Marchand,
Premier Valet de Chambre.”

On the 7th of August, I have left on board the Bellerophon, in charge of
Captain Maitland, the sum of eighty thousand francs, in four thousand
gold Napoleons.

Marchand,
1st Valet de Chambre.

“I acknowledge to have received a box with four paper packages, said
to contain four thousand gold Napoleons, the property of Napoleon
Buonaparte.

“August 7th, 1815,
“Fred. L. Maitland.”

“Approved, George Cockburn.”

As I shall not have to revert to the (p. 199) subject of the money, I
shall here subjoin the receipt I obtained on delivering it at the
Admiralty Office, though it is of a date some time posterior.

“Admiralty, September 14, 1815.

“Received from Captain Maitland a box, containing four packages, marked
each 20,000 francs, and said to contain four thousand Napoleons d’or.”

“H. Lowe, Major General.”

About eleven A.M., Lord Keith came on board in the Tonnant’s barge, to
accompany Buonaparte from the Bellerophon to the Northumberland. Count
Bertrand immediately went into the cabin to inform him of his Lordship’s
arrival: it was, however, full two hours before it was reported that he
was ready to attend him. About one o’clock, the barge of the Admiral was
prepared; a Captain’s guard turned out, and by Lord Keith’s direction,
as Napoleon (p. 200) crossed the quarter-deck to leave the ship, the
guard presented arms, and three ruffles of the drum were beat, being the
salute given to a General Officer.

He walked out of the cabin with a steady, firm step, came up to me, and,
taking off his hat, said, “Captain Maitland, I take this last
opportunity of once more returning you my thanks for the manner in which
you have treated me while on board the Bellerophon, and also to request
you will convey them to the officers and ship’s company you command:”
then turning to the Officers, who were standing by me, he added,
“Gentlemen, I have requested your Captain to express my gratitude to you
for your attention to me, and to those who have followed my fortunes.”
He then went forward to the gangway; and before he went down the ship’s
side, bowed two or three times to the ship’s company, who were collected
in the waist and on the forecastle; (p. 201) he was followed by the
ladies and the French Officers, and lastly by Lord Keith. After the boat
had shoved off, and got the distance of about thirty yards from the
ship, he stood up, pulled his hat off, and bowed first to the Officers,
and then to the men; and immediately sat down, and entered into
conversation with Lord Keith, with as much apparent composure as if he
had been only going from one ship to the other to pay a visit.

About a quarter of an hour before Buonaparte quitted the Bellerophon,
Montholon came to me on the quarter-deck, and said, “I am directed by
the Emperor to return you his thanks for the manner in which you have
conducted yourself throughout the whole of this affair; and he desires
me to say, that the greatest cause of disappointment he feels in not
being admitted to an interview with the Prince Regent is, that he had
intended to ask as a favour from his (p. 202) Royal Highness, that you
should be promoted to the rank of Rear Admiral.” I answered, “that
although the request could not have been complied with under any
circumstances, as it was contrary to the regulations of our naval
service, yet I do not the less feel the kindness of the intention.” “He
meant also,” he said, “to have presented you with a box containing his
portrait, but he understands you are determined not to accept it.” I
replied, “In the situation I am placed, it is quite impossible I can
receive any present from him.” “He is perfectly aware,” said he, “of the
delicacy of your situation, and approves of your conduct.” I 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.”
(p. 203) “Oh!” said he, “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.”

Tumbler given to Captain Maitland by Napoleon

In the course of the afternoon, I attended General Savary and Lallemand
on board the Northumberland, where they went for the purpose of taking a
last farewell of their master. I had very little conversation with him
myself, but they remained with him a considerable time. When I was about
to return to my ship, I went into the cabin to tell them they must
accompany me. They approached him in the after-cabin, where he was
standing, when he embraced each of them most affectionately, after the
French (p. 204) manner, putting his arms round them, and touching their
cheeks with his. He was firm and collected; but, in turning from him,
the tears were streaming from their eyes. On getting on board, all the
squadron got under weigh, the Tonnant and Bellerophon to return to
Plymouth, the Northumberland, with two troop ships in company, to
proceed to St Helena. The following day she was joined by a frigate and
several sloops of war from Plymouth, when she made sail to the westward.

Having now brought my narrative down to the period of Buonaparte’s
quitting the ship, it only remains for me to give some account of his
person and character, as far as it fell under my view. In doing so, I
shall endeavour, as far as possible, in the same spirit with which the
foregoing narrative is written, to avoid being biassed, either by
favourable or unfavourable feelings towards him. What he may have been
when at the head of (p. 205) the French Empire, with the destiny of the
greater part of Europe under his control, I have no peculiar means of
knowing; all I can pretend to do is, to describe him as he was on board
the Bellerophon; adding a few anecdotes, which have been omitted in the
course of the narrative, as serving to throw some further light upon his
character.

Napoleon Buonaparte, when he came on board the Bellerophon, on the 15th
of July, 1815, wanted exactly one month of completing his forty-sixth
year, being born the 15th of August, 1769. He was then a remarkably
strong, well-built man, about five feet seven inches high, his limbs
particularly well-formed, with a fine ancle and very small foot, of
which he seemed rather vain, as he always wore, while on board the ship,
silk stockings and shoes. His hands were also very small, and had the
plumpness of a woman’s rather than the robustness of a man’s. His eyes
light grey, teeth good; and (p. 206) when he smiled, the expression of
his countenance was highly pleasing; when under the influence of
disappointment, however, it assumed a dark gloomy cast. His hair was of
a very dark brown, nearly approaching to black, and, though a little
thin on the top and front, had not a grey hair amongst it. His
complexion was a very uncommon one, being of a light sallow colour,
differing from almost any other I ever met with. From his having become
corpulent, he had lost much of his personal activity, and, if we are to
give credit to those who attended him, a very considerable portion of
his mental energy was also gone. It is certain his habits were very
lethargic while he was on board the Bellerophon; for though he went to
bed between eight and nine o’clock in the evening, and did not rise till
about the same hour in the morning, he frequently fell asleep on the
sofa in the cabin in the course of the day. His general appearance was
that of a man rather older than he then was. His manners (p. 207) were
extremely pleasing and affable: he joined in every conversation, related
numerous anecdotes, and endeavoured, in every way, to promote good
humour: he even admitted his attendants to great familiarity; and I saw
one or two instances of their contradicting him in the most direct
terms, though they generally treated him with much respect. He
possessed, to a wonderful degree, a facility in making a favourable
impression upon those with whom he entered into conversation: this
appeared to me to be accomplished by turning the subject to matters he
supposed the person he was addressing was well acquainted with, and on
which he could show himself to advantage. This had the effect of putting
him in good humour with himself; after which it was not a very difficult
matter to transfer a part of that feeling to the person who had
occasioned it. Lord Keith appears to have formed a very high opinion of
the fascination of his conversation, (p. 208) and expressed it very
emphatically to me, after he had seen him: speaking of his wish for an
interview with the Prince Regent, “D——n the fellow,” he said, “if he
had obtained an interview with his Royal Highness, in half an hour they
would have been the best friends in England.”[11] He appeared to have
great command of temper; for, though no man could have had greater
trials than fell to his lot during the time he remained on board the
Bellerophon, he never, in my presence, or as far as I know, allowed a
fretful or captious expression to escape him: even the day he received
the notification from Sir Henry Bunbury, that it was determined to send
him to St Helena, he chatted and conversed with the same cheerfulness as
usual. It has been asserted that he was acting a part all the time he
was on board (p. 209) the ship; but still, even allowing that to be the
case, nothing but great command of temper could have enabled him to have
sustained such a part for so many days, in his situation.

I shall here relate a circumstance that occurred during the passage to
England, which will show in a strong point of view the freedom that
subsisted between him and those of his attendants in whom he had
confidence. A conversation took place respecting the relative state of
cultivation in France and in England. My opinion being asked, I said,
that though the climate of France was much superior to that of England,
I believed that agriculture had arrived at a greater state of perfection
with us than in France. Most of the Frenchmen treated the idea with
ridicule; upon which I said, let us refer to Monsieur Las Cases, who has
lived several years in England. “You are right,” said he; “there can be
no doubt, that agriculture has arrived to much (p. 210) greater
perfection in England than in France; but what I admire most in England,
are the country-seats of your noblemen and gentlemen; there you surpass
France very much.” General Bertrand then took up the conversation, and
said, that he was assured, that thirty thousand pounds sterling was
annually expended on the park and grounds of Blenheim. Buonaparte
immediately reduced that sum into livres; and observed, “The thing is
impossible: the English people are not fools; they know the value of
money, and no individual either could or would expend such a sum for
such a purpose.” He then spoke of the expense of keeping up Malmaison,
one of the country palaces in France; stating the sum it cost annually,
which did not exceed five thousand pounds. Bertrand still persisted in
his statement, and made a reference to me. I, however, could give no
information further than saying, that from what I had heard of the Duke
of Marlborough’s finances, he (p. 211) could not possibly lay out any
such sum on Blenheim. Monsieur Bertrand would not give up the point, but
repeated his assertion. On which Buonaparte said, with quickness, “Bah!
c’est impossible.” “Oh!” said Bertrand, much offended, “if you are to
reply in that manner, there is an end of all argument;” and for some
time would not converse with him. Buonaparte, so far from taking
umbrage, did all he could to soothe him and restore him to good-humour,
which was not very difficult to effect.

One morning he began to talk of his wife and child, and desired Marchand
to bring two or three miniature pictures to show me: he spoke of them
with much feeling and affection. “I feel,” said he, “the conduct of the
allied sovereigns to be more cruel and unjustifiable towards me in that
respect than in any other. Why should they deprive me of the comforts of
domestic society, and take from me what must be (p. 212) the dearest
objects of affection to every man—my child, and the mother of that
child?” On his expressing himself as above, I looked him steadily in the
face, to observe whether he showed any emotion: the tears were standing
in his eyes, and the whole of his countenance appeared evidently under
the influence of a strong feeling of grief.

There were two pictures of young Napoleon: one in the dress of a Polish
lancer, and the other with long curly flowing ringlets: they both
represented a fair, strong, chubby boy, with features very much
resembling those of his father. That of his mother, a very fair woman,
with good features, but by no means handsome.

From the observations I was enabled to make, I very much doubt Monsieur
Savary’s statement, that the passion of ambition was so completely
overcome in his bosom, “that had it been proposed to him again to ascend
(p. 213) the throne of France, he would have declined it”; and I do
think, that if he had succeeded in eluding the British cruisers and
arrived in America, he would always have looked forward to returning to
France. In all his conversations, he spoke of ambition as a quality
absolutely necessary to form the character of a soldier. On one
occasion, Savary spoke of Kleber, (who was left by Napoleon in command
of the army when he quitted Egypt,) in terms of high encomium; this
brought on a discussion upon the respective merits of that officer and
Dessaix, whose aid-de-camp Savary had been during the negotiation of the
convention of El Arish. Buonaparte, speaking of Kleber, bestowed upon
him great praise as an officer; but he added, “He was deficient in one
of the most necessary qualifications of a soldier,—ambition. He was
indolent, and required constant spurring. Dessaix, on the contrary, had
all his abilities, which were kept in constant activity by a mind whose
(p. 214) ambition there was no satisfying; and, had they both lived to
the present period, he would have been much the greater man of the two.”

It does not appear from the statement of Buonaparte’s attendants, that
he had made any very considerable provision for the future, in the event
of a reverse of fortune. They often regretted his poverty; and Madame
Bertrand assured me that he was not possessed of more than a million of
francs—forty-two thousand pounds of our money [12]; which, if correct,
is certainly not a very large sum for a man who had had so many millions
at his disposal. “The (p. 215) Emperor has always declared,” she said,
“that he would rise or fall with the country, and never would enrich
himself out of the public property.” He also upon one occasion, when
there was some intention of leaving Madame Bertrand with her children in
England, after stating Bertrand’s poverty as an objection to that
arrangement, said to me, “My finances are not such as to enable me to
give him much assistance.”

Buonaparte’s carriage, which was taken at the battle of Waterloo by the
Prussian cavalry, contained many articles of great value. In it was a
necessaire, in which all the instruments, bason, &c. were composed of
gold; a sword set with diamonds, and a diamond necklace, estimated at a
very large sum of money, which one of his sisters (I think, the Princess
of Borghese) put round his neck the night he took leave of her at Paris,
on his setting out to join the army previous to the battle of Waterloo,
and (p. 216) which he had taken off and deposited in a secret place in
the carriage; Marchand, his valet de chambre, being so nearly taken by
the Prussian hussars, that he quitted the carriage without having time
to secure it. But I have since learned from Las Cases’s Memoirs, that
the necklace alluded to was saved, and that Las Cases had it concealed
about his person all the time he was on board the Bellerophon.

It has been stated in many of the public prints, that had not the
Marquis of Anglesea received a wound when he was leading on a charge,
Buonaparte must have fallen into his hands. In consequence of observing
this assertion, I asked Generals Bertrand and Gourgaud whether they knew
if any such occurrence had taken place: both of whom replied, “Certainly
not; the Emperor was frequently in the midst of the British troops
(pêle-mêle avec les troupes Angloises); but at no time during the battle
was he in (p. 217) danger of being captured by a charge of cavalry.”

The midshipmen of the Bellerophon were in the habit of occasionally
performing plays, to amuse themselves and the officers during the
tedious operations of a blockade. Buonaparte being told of it by Savary,
requested that they would oblige him by acting one for his amusement.
During the performance, Madame Bertrand sat next to him, and
interpreted. He appeared much amused, and laughed very heartily at our
ladies, who were personated by great strapping fellows dressed in
women’s clothes, and not in the most tidy fashion. He had the patience
to remain to the end of the third act, though, when attending the Opera
at Paris, he had always retired at the end of the first.

I heard several of the French officers discussing the merits of the
British troops. (p. 218) One of them said, “The cavalry is superb.” I
observed, “In England we have a higher opinion of our infantry.” “You
are right,” said he; “there is none such in the world: there is no
making an impression on them: you may as well attempt to charge through
a wall: and their fire is tremendous.” Another of them observed: “A
great fault in your cavalry is their not having their horses
sufficiently under command: there must be something wrong in the bit, as
on one or two occasions in a charge, they could not stop their horses:
our troops opened to the right and left, let them pass through, and then
closed their ranks again, when they were either killed or taken
prisoners.”

I never heard Buonaparte speak of the battle of Waterloo, or give an
opinion of the Duke of Wellington; but I asked General Bertrand what
Napoleon thought of him. “Why,” replied he, “I will give (p. 219) you
his opinion nearly in the words he delivered it to me. ‘The Duke of
Wellington, in the management of an army, is fully equal to myself, with
the advantage of possessing more prudence.'”

During the time that Buonaparte was on board the Bellerophon, we always
lived expressly for his accommodation—entirely in the French manner;
that is to say, a hot meal was served at ten o’clock in the morning, and
another at six in the evening; and so nearly did they resemble each
other in all respects, that a stranger might have found difficulty, in
coming into the cabin, to distinguish breakfast from dinner. His maître
d’hôtel took the joints off the table, cut them up in portions, and then
handed them round. Buonaparte ate a great deal, and generally of strong
solid food: in drinking he was extremely abstemious, confining himself
almost entirely to claret, and seldom taking more than half-a-pint at a
meal. (p. 220) Immediately after dinner, strong coffee was handed
round, and then some cordial; after which he rose from table, the whole
meal seldom lasting more than twenty or twenty-five minutes: and I was
told, that during the time he was at the head of the French Government,
he never allowed more than fifteen minutes for that purpose.

After he had quitted the ship, being desirous to know the feeling of the
ship’s company towards him, I asked my servant what the people said of
him. “Why, Sir,” he answered, “I heard several of them conversing
together about him this morning; when one of them observed, ‘Well, they
may abuse that man as much as they please; but if the people of England
knew him as well as we do, they would not hurt a hair of his head;’ in
which the others agreed.” This was the more extraordinary, as he never
went through the ship’s company (p. 221) but once, immediately after
his coming on board, when I attended him, and he did not speak to any of
the men; merely returning their salute by pulling off his hat; and in
consequence of his presence, they suffered many privations, such as not
being allowed to see their wives and friends, or to go on shore, having
to keep watch in port, &c.; and when he left the ship, the only money he
distributed was twenty Napoleons to my steward, fifteen to one of the
under-servants, and ten to the cook.

It may, perhaps, be interesting to give a slight sketch of the principal
persons who accompanied Buonaparte to the Bellerophon; premising, that I
do not pretend to be minutely correct in the view I took of them: the
trying circumstances in which these unfortunate men were placed, being
such as required more than common temper; and I think it very doubtful,
whether, in (p. 222) the same situation, Englishmen would have
maintained equal forbearance.

Count Bertrand was a man of about forty-four years of age, five feet ten
inches in height, of a slight make and prepossessing appearance: his
manners extremely placid and gentle, though evidently of a warm temper;
and showed himself rather hasty in his conduct to Sir George Cockburn,
about searching the baggage; as Sir George was not acting upon his own
authority, but by the directions of his superiors, and was inclined to
conduct himself with as much consideration as his orders would admit. He
was an affectionate attentive husband, and much attached to his
children.

The Countess Bertrand was then of a tall, slight figure. Her maiden name
was Dillon; her father was an Irishman in the French service, who lost
his life during the revolution, (p. 223) and was related to Lord
Dillon. Though, perhaps, a little warm, she has undoubtedly many
excellent qualities: she showed herself to be a kind mother and
affectionate wife; and if she easily took offence, she as easily forgot
it; and any little dispute that occurred between her and me, was amply
atoned for by the frank and affectionate manner in which she took leave
when we were about to part, perhaps for ever.[13] They had, at the time
I speak of, three fine children,—two boys and a girl; the eldest boy
about five years of age, who seemed to have a natural turn for the
profession of his father: his constant amusement, in which the young
lady and little Montholon joined, was forming (p. 224) lines and
squares, and other military evolutions, on the quarter-deck.

General Savary, Duc de Rovigo, was a tall handsome man, then about
forty-six years of age, of a cheerful disposition; and notwithstanding
the alarm he was in lest he should be given up to the French Government,
he never forgot himself so far as to make use of a rude expression in my
presence. He was Minister of Police after Fouché. As a great deal had
been said about Captain Wright’s death, I spoke to him one day upon the
subject, and told him it was generally believed in England that he had
been murdered: he said, “I took much pains in investigating that matter,
and in ascertaining the cause of his death; and I have not a doubt that
he cut his own throat in a fit of delirium.” Neither Savary nor
Lallemand were allowed to accompany Buonaparte to St Helena; but on the
Bellerophon’s return to Plymouth, after transferring (p. 225) Napoleon
to the Northumberland, both of them, together with Planat and the other
officers with the exception of three, were, by an order from the
Admiralty, sent on board the Eurotas frigate, which conveyed them to
Malta, from whence, after remaining some time as prisoners in Fort St
Angelo, they were allowed to proceed to Smyrna.

General Lallemand [14] was about forty-two years of age, of a thick
strong make; his manners not pleasing, and his appearance by no means
prepossessing. During the whole time he was in the Bellerophon, he was
morose and abstracted, and seemed much alarmed lest he should be given
up (p. 226) to the French Government; and there can be little doubt,
had he fallen into its power, he would have shared the fate of Ney, as
he had, with the troops under his command, joined Napoleon on his return
from Elba. He had formerly been, for several years, one of Buonaparte’s
aide-de-camps, and during the time he was in the Bellerophon always did
that duty in rotation with Montholon and Gourgaud; one of them sleeping
in his clothes on a mattress every night outside of the door of the
cabin he slept in. The other two aide-de-camps, Generals Montholon and
Gourgaud, were young men about thirty-two years of age, the former an
officer in the cavalry, and the other in the artillery: they were both
of good families; but their attachment to Buonaparte induced them to
give up their country and property to follow him.

Madame Montholon was a quiet unassuming woman, gave no trouble, and
seemed (p. 227) perfectly satisfied, provided she were allowed to
accompany her husband. She had with her one fine little boy, about four
years old, and I believe left another child at nurse in France.

Count Las Cases, though he bore the title of Counsellor of State, held
no official situation with Buonaparte; nor did I perfectly understand
how he came to accompany him on his departure from France, as he was not
with him in Elba: but the intimacy appeared to have been formed since
his return from that island. Napoleon was fond of his conversation. He
was of small stature, being little more than five feet high, and
slightly made. He always spoke of his master in terms of enthusiasm, and
resisted every application from his wife and family to remain behind,
being determined to follow wherever Buonaparte might be sent. He took
with him his eldest son, a quick intelligent boy of thirteen.

(p. 228) Monsieur Maingaut, the surgeon, with all the domestics beyond
the twelve who went to St Helena, were conveyed in the Bellerophon to
Portsmouth, and from thence sent to Cherbourg, and landed there.
Monsieur Saint Catharine, a lad about sixteen, nephew to the Empress
Josephine, and a native of Martinique, was provided with a passage to
that island in one of our sloops of war.

Captain Prontowski, a Pole, was allowed to proceed to St Helena, some
time after the Northumberland sailed. Why this indulgence was granted to
him, I never clearly understood; but it was said to be in consequence of
the representations he made to the British Government, of the very
strong attachment he entertained to his fallen master,—a feeling, as
far as I could judge, which prevailed with equal force in the breasts of
all those who accompanied him from France, without excepting Madame
(p. 229) Bertrand, who, when not influenced by the horror she
entertained of being banished to St Helena, always spoke of him not only
with affection, but in the language of respect and enthusiasm.

[Sir Walter Scott adds at the end of his notes:—

I declare against abridgement. You are publishing a great and
interesting national document, in which accuracy is everything,
and abridgement takes greatly from its authenticity. Anything
that can be pointed out as what might be personally injurious to
these individuals whose attachment to a fallen master renders
them objects of interest ought of course to be retrenched. But on
no other account would I in Capt. M.’s place consent to alter a
word of a narrative written down at the time; and this you may
depend upon, that the more minute the narrative is the more it
will be interesting to the public. Minuteness is in itself the
voucher for authenticity. I presume to press this general remark.

The whole narrative is as fine, manly, and explicit an account as
ever was given of so interesting a transaction. It is one in
which Captain Maitland not only vindicates his own character, but
guarantees that of the British nation. I really, since an
opportunity is given me by Capt. Maitland’s confidence, protest
against its being snipped and (p. 230) clipped like the feet of
the ladies who wished to qualify themselves for the glass
slipper.

The corrections in point of mere style are generally for the
better, and, I think, ought to be adopted. But let an idea get
abroad that your narrative has been altered and modified to suit
existing times, and the public suspicion will greatly outrun the
fact and suppose that material cancels or alterations have been
made.]

Facsimile of part of Sir Walter Scott’s
Notes on the “Narrative”

(p. 231) APPENDIX.

So many erroneous statements have gone abroad, as to the terms of
Buonaparte’s reception on board the Bellerophon, that I conceive it
right to give the following correspondence, although at the expense of
some repetition; in order to its being distinctly seen, that the good
faith of the British nation was not compromised on that occasion, but
that His Majesty’s Government were at perfect liberty, as far as those
terms were concerned, to act as they thought best.

“Tonnant, at anchor under Berryhead,
7th August, 1815.

“Sir,

“Count Las Cases having this morning stated to me that he understood
from you, when he was on board the Bellerophon in Basque Roads, on a
mission from General Buonaparte, that you were authorized to receive the
General and his suite on board the ship you command, for conveyance to
England; and that you assured him, at the same time, that both the
General and his suite would be well received (p. 232) there; you are to
report for my information, such observations as you may consider it
necessary to make upon these assertions.

“I am, Sir,
Your most obedient,
humble servant,
Keith, Admiral.”

“Captain Maitland,
Bellerophon.”

“H.M.S. Bellerophon,
Plymouth Sound, 8th August, 1815.

“My Lord,

“I have to acknowledge the receipt of your Lordship’s letter of
yesterday’s date, informing me that Count Las Cases had stated to you,
that he had understood from me when he was on board the Bellerophon in
Basque Roads, on a mission from General Buonaparte, that I was
authorized to receive the General and his suite on board the ship I
command, for a conveyance to England, and that I assured him at the same
time, that both the General and his suite would be well received there;
and directing me to report for your Lordship’s information such
observations as I may consider it necessary to make upon these
assertions. I shall, in consequence, state, to the best of my
recollection, the whole of the transaction that took place between Count
Las Cases and me, on the 14th of July, respecting the embarkation of
Napoleon Buonaparte, for the veracity of which I beg to refer your
Lordship to Captain Sartorius as to what was said in the (p. 233)
morning, and to that officer and Captain Gambier (the Myrmidon having
joined me in the afternoon) as to what passed in the evening.

“Your Lordship being informed already of the flag of truce that came out
to me on the 10th of July, as well as of every thing that occurred on
that occasion, I shall confine myself to the transactions of the 14th of
the same month.

“Early in the morning of that day, the officer of the watch informed me,
a schooner, bearing a flag of truce, was approaching: on her joining the
ship, about seven A.M. the Count Las Cases and General Lallemand came on
board, when, on being shown into the cabin, Las Cases asked me if any
answer had been returned to the letter sent by me to Sir Henry Hotham
respecting Napoleon Buonaparte being allowed to pass for America, either
in the frigates or in a neutral vessel. I informed him no answer had
been returned, though I hourly expected, in consequence of those
despatches, Sir Henry Hotham would arrive; and, as I had told Monsieur
Las Cases, when last on board, that I should send my boat in when the
answer came, it was quite unnecessary to have sent out a flag of truce
on that account:—there, for the time, the conversation terminated. On
their coming on board, I had made the signal for the Captain of the
Slaney, being desirous of having a witness to all that might pass.

(p. 234) “After breakfast (during which Captain Sartorius came on board)
we retired to the after-cabin, when Monsieur Las Cases began on the same
subject, and said, ‘The Emperor was so anxious to stop the further
effusion of blood, that he would go to America in any way the English
Government would sanction, either in a neutral, a disarmed frigate, or
an English ship of war.’ To which I replied, ‘I have no authority to
permit any of those measures; but if he chooses to come on board the
ship I command, I think, under the orders I am acting with, I may
venture to receive him and carry him to England; but, if I do so, I can
in no way be answerable for the reception he may meet with (this I
repeated several times); when Las Cases said, ‘I have little doubt,
under those circumstances, that you will see the Emperor on board the
Bellerophon.’ After some more general conversation, and the above being
frequently repeated, Monsieur Las Cases and General Lallemand took their
leave: and I assure your Lordship that I never, in any way, entered into
conditions with respect to the reception General Buonaparte was to meet
with; nor was it, at that time, finally arranged that he was to come on
board the Bellerophon. In the course of conversation, Las Cases asked me
whether I thought Buonaparte would be well received in England; to which
I gave the only answer I could do in my situation—’That I did not at
all know what was the intention of the British Government; but I had no
reason to suppose he would not be well received.’ It is here worthy of
remark, that (p. 235) when Las Cases came on board, he assured me that
Buonaparte was then at Rochefort, and that it would be necessary for him
to go there to report the conversation that had passed between us (this
I can prove by the testimony of Captain Sartorius, and the first
Lieutenant of this ship, to whom I spoke of it at the time), which
statement was not fact; Buonaparte never having quitted Isle d’Aix, or
the frigates, after the 3rd.

“I was, therefore, much surprised at seeing Monsieur Las Cases on board
again before seven o’clock the same evening; and one of the first
questions I put to him was, whether he had been at Rochefort. He
answered, that on returning to Isle d’Aix, he found that Buonaparte had
arrived there.

“Monsieur Las Cases then presented to me the letter Count Bertrand wrote
concerning Buonaparte’s intention to come on board the ship (a copy of
which has been transmitted to your Lordship by Sir Henry Hotham); and it
was not till then agreed upon that I should receive him; when either
Monsieur Las Cases, or General Gourgaud (I am not positive which, as I
was employed writing my own despatches), wrote to Bertrand to inform him
of it. While paper was preparing to write the letter, I said again to
Monsieur Las Cases, ‘You will recollect I have no authority for making
conditions of any sort.’ Nor has Monsieur Las Cases ever started such an
idea till the day before yesterday. That it was not the (p. 236)
feeling of Buonaparte, or the rest of his people, I will give strong
proof, drawn from the conversations they have held with me.

“As I never heard the subject mentioned till two days ago, I shall not
detail every conversation that has passed, but confine myself to that
period.

“The night that the squadron anchored at the back of Berryhead,
Buonaparte sent for me about 10 P.M. and said he was informed by
Bertrand, that I had received orders to remove him to the
Northumberland, and wished to know if that was the case; on being told
that it was, he requested I would write a letter to Bertrand, stating I
had such orders, that it might not appear that he went of his own
accord, but that he had been forced to do so. I told him, I could have
no objection, and wrote a letter to that effect (a copy of which is here
annexed), which your Lordship afterwards sanctioned, and desired me, if
he required it, to give him a copy of the order.

“After having arranged that matter, I was going to withdraw, when he
requested me to remain, as he had something more to say: he then began
complaining of his treatment in being forced to go to St Helena: among
other things, he observed, ‘They say I made no conditions: certainly, I
made no conditions: how could a private man (un particulier) make
conditions with a nation? I wanted nothing (p. 237) from them but
hospitality, or (as the ancients would express it) air and water. I
threw myself on the generosity of the English nation; I claimed a place
sur leurs foyers, and my only wish was to purchase a small estate and
end my life in tranquillity.’ After more of the same sort of
conversation I left him for the night.

“On the morning he removed from the Bellerophon to the Northumberland,
he sent for me again, and said, ‘I have sent for you to express my
gratitude for your conduct to me, while I have been on board the ship
you command. My reception in England has been very different from what I
expected; but you throughout have behaved like a man of honour; and I
request you will accept my thanks, as well as convey them to the
officers, and ship’s company of the Bellerophon.’

“Soon afterwards Montholon came to me from Buonaparte; but, to
understand what passed between him and me, I must revert to a
conversation that I had with Madame Bertrand on the passage from
Rochefort.

“It is not necessary to state how the conversation commenced, as it does
not apply to the present transaction; but she informed me, that it was
Buonaparte’s intention to present me with a box containing his picture
set with diamonds. I answered, ‘I hope not, for I cannot receive it.’
(p. 238) ‘Then you will offend him very much,’ she said. ‘If that is
the case,’ I replied, ‘I request you will take measures to prevent its
being offered, as it is absolutely impossible I can accept of it; and I
wish to spare him the mortification, and myself the pain, of a refusal.’
There the matter dropt, and I heard no more of it, till about half an
hour before Buonaparte quitted the Bellerophon, when Montholon came to
me, and said he was desired by Buonaparte to express the high sense he
entertained of my conduct throughout the whole of the transaction: that
it had been his intention to present me with a box containing his
portrait, but that he understood I was determined not to accept it. I
said, ‘Placed as I was, I felt it impossible to receive a present from
him, though I was highly flattered at the testimony he had borne to the
uprightness of my conduct throughout.’ Montholon then added, ‘One of the
greatest causes of chagrin he feels in not being admitted to an
interview with the Prince Regent, is, that he had determined to ask as a
favour, your being promoted to the rank of Rear-Admiral.’ To which I
replied, ‘That would have been quite impossible, but I do not the less
feel the kindness of the intention.’ I then said, ‘I am hurt that Las
Cases should say I held forth any assurances as to the reception
Buonaparte was to meet with in England.’ ‘Oh!’ said he, ‘Las Cases is
disappointed in his expectations; and as he negotiated the affair, he
attributes the Emperor’s situation to himself: but I can assure you,
that he (Buonaparte) (p. 239) feels convinced you have acted like a man
of honour throughout.’

“As your Lordship overheard part of a conversation which took place
between Las Cases and me on the quarter-deck of the Bellerophon, I shall
not detail it; but on that occasion, I positively denied having promised
anything as to the reception of Buonaparte and his suite; and I believe
your Lordship was of opinion he could not make out the statement to you.

“It is extremely unpleasant for me to be under the necessity of entering
into a detail of this sort; but the unhandsome representation Monsieur
Las Cases has made to your Lordship of my conduct, has obliged me to
produce proofs of the light in which the transaction was viewed by
Buonaparte as well as his attendants.

“I again repeat, that Captains Gambier and Sartorius can verify the
principal part of what I have stated, as far as concerns the charge made
against me by Count Las Cases.

“I have the honour to be,
Your Lordship’s
Most obedient humble servant,
Frederick L. Maitland.”

“To the Right Hon.
Viscount Keith, G.C.B.
&c. &c. &c.”

(p. 240) “Slaney, in Plymouth Sound,
15th August, 1815.

“My Lord,

“I have read Captain Maitland’s letter to your Lordship, of the 8th
instant, containing his observations upon the assertions made on the
preceding day by Count Las Cases; and I most fully attest the
correctness of the statement he has made, so far as relates to the
conversations that took place in my presence.

“I have the honour to be,
Your Lordship’s
Most obedient humble servant,
G. R. Sartorius,
Capt. of H.M.S. Slaney.”

“To the Right Hon.
Viscount Keith, G.C.B.
&c. &c. &c.”

A letter to the same effect as the foregoing was written to Lord Keith,
by Captain Gambier, of the Myrmidon, and forwarded by his Lordship to
the Admiralty, with my report; of which, by some accident, the Admiral’s
secretary did not furnish me with a copy.

(p. 241) ADDITIONAL APPENDIX.

I.

LIST OF OFFICERS borne on the Books of H.M.S. Bellerophon in July 1815.

Captain Fred. L. Maitland.
Lieutenant Andrew Mott.[15]
“ William Walford.
“ John Bowerbank.
“ Gabriel Christie.
“ Edward William Ramsay.
Captain of Marines, George Marshall.
Lieutenant of Marines, J. W. Simpson.
“ Henry Smith.
Master, Stephen Vale.
Surgeon, Barry O’Meara.
Assistant-Surgeon, A. Milne.
“ E. Graebke.
Chaplain, J. W. Wynne.
Purser, George Jackson.

(p. 242) II.

Letter from Ephraim Graebke, assistant-surgeon on board H.M.S.
Bellerophon, to his mother, giving an account of Napoleon’s
surrender (British Museum, Additional MSS. 34,710, f. 81).

H.M.S. Bellerophon, Plymouth Sound,
Tuesday, July 30, 1815.

My dear Mother,

You will be surprised at not hearing from me, and knowing the
Bellerophon’s arrival in England, but when I tell you no private letters
were allowed to leave the ship before to-day, that will cease. It’s
unnecessary to say that we have got Buonaparte and suite on board, as it
was known in England previous to our arrival, which took place on the
24th instant in Torbay. The circumstances which led to his surrender
were his defeats in all points, and was it not for the strict blockade
we kept up would [sic] have escaped to America. We heard of his being
on board the French frigate Saale off (p. 243) Rochfort, from which
moment we watched his movements if possible more closely than before. On
the morning of the 14th instant, observing a schooner bearing a flag of
truce on board standing towards us, we hove to for her, when Count
Lascazas and General Lallemande came on board with proposals from
Buonaparte, in consequence of which we came to anchor in the evening in
the roads off Rochelle. Next morning, 15th instant, at 4 a.m. observed a
man-of-war brig standing out and beating towards us, we immediately
dispatched all our boats. Lieut. Mott in the barge brought Buonaparte on
board at 7, the boats were busily employed in bringing his retinue and
baggage, and I never saw men exert themselves so much as ours did that
day, lest Admiral Hotham should take him, as he was off the harbour in
the Superb, and saw him coming on board here, and did all in his power
to get in, but did not come to anchor before 11 in the forenoon.
Buonaparte is a fine-looking man, inclined to corpulency, is five feet
six inches in height, his hair turning grey, and a little bald on the
crown of the head, no whiskers, complexion French yellow, eyes grey,
Roman nose, good mouth and chin, neck short, big belly, arms stout,
small white hands, and shews a good leg. He wears a cocked hat somewhat
like our old-fashioned three cornered ones, with the tri-coloured
cockade in it, plain green coat, cape red, and cuffs the same, plain
gold epaulets, and a large star on the left breast, white waistcoat and
breeches and white silk stockings, thin (p. 244) shoes and buckles.
Eats but two meals in the day, breakfast and dinner, and these are
sumptuous, fish, flesh, and fowl, wines, fruit, various French dishes
&c. &c. He breakfasts about eleven and dines at six, is about half an
hour at each, when he generally comes on deck or goes into the
after-cabin to study. We do not know what’s to be done with him yet, he
remains on board until we hear from the allies. In his suite are Marshal
Bertrand, Duc de Rovigo [Savary] once the French minister of police,
Counts Lascazas and Montholon, Generals Lallemande and Gourgou, several
Lieut.-Colonels and Captains, to enumerate them would be tedious. We
have 33 on board, 17 were sent on board the Myrmidon, Captn. Gambier.
There are two Countesses on board, but not to be compared even to our
English ladies. Their children are handsome…. We performed the comedy
of the “Poor Gentleman” before Buonaparte and suite. I acted the part of
Corporal Foss. It went off very well, our scenery was excellent. The
female dresses were badly suited for Midshipmen. I long to hear from you
and will expect to hear all the news…. I wish you were all here to see
Buonaparte, the curiosity of all ranks to see him is excessive. There
are Admiralty orders not to allow any person whatever on board, but they
crowd in boats round the ship, and he very condescendingly stands
looking at them through a spyglass. There are two frigates, one on each
side of us, the Eurotas and Liffey, and their boats are (p. 245)
constantly rowing about the ship to keep off the boats. We prisoners
have no other amusement than to look at them contending for places. I
hope we will soon be allowed to go ashore, as I want to see Captain
Sandys. You must be tired reading this long epistle. We took some
prizes, one ship laden with Buonaparte’s soldiers, one chasse marée
laden with resin, and the Cephulus man-of-war brig sent in a West
Indiaman laden with sugar, coffee, &c. from Martinique bound to France,
and for which we will share by mutual agreements. Give my affectionate
love to Ally, Anne, Wilhelmina, Sophia and Jane. I know the want of not
being near them as my shirts are going to pieces, as soon as I can
afford the sum I will get some new ones. I have the old number the same
as when I left you and bought none since…. I remain, my dear mother,
your affectionate son,

Ephraim Graebke.

P.S.—I think myself very lucky to belong to the old Bellerophon at
this important time. Lose no time in answering this letter.

Mrs Graebke,
Midleton, Co. Cork.

(p. 246) III.

Extracts from Memoirs of an Aristocrat, and Reminiscences of the
Emperor Napoleon, by a Midshipman of the Bellerophon [George
Home]. London, Whittaker & Co., and Bell & Bradfute, Edinburgh,
1838.

About six in the morning, the look-out man at the mast-head announced a
large ship of war standing direct in for the roadstead, which Captain
Maitland, suspecting to be the Superb, bearing the flag of Admiral Sir
Henry Hotham, he gave immediate orders to hoist out the barge, and
dispatched her, under the command of the first lieutenant, to the French
brig, being apprehensive that if the Admiral arrived before the brig got
out, that Napoleon would deliver himself up to the Admiral instead of
us, and thus have lost us so much honour.

As our barge approached, the brig hove to, and from the moment she came
alongside, we watched every motion with deep anxiety. Like all
Napoleon’s movements, he was not slow even in this, his last free act.
The barge had not remained ten minutes alongside, before we saw the
rigging of the brig crowded with men, persons stepping down the side
into the boat, and the next moment she shoved off, and gave way for the
ship; while the waving of the men’s hats in the rigging, and the
cheering (p. 247) which we heard faintly in the distance, left no doubt
that the expected guest was approaching. A general’s guard of marines
was ordered aft on the quarter-deck, and the boatswain stood, whistle in
hand, ready to do the honours of the side. The lieutenants stood grouped
first on the quarter-deck, and we more humble middies behind them, while
the captain, evidently in much anxiety, kept trudging backwards and
forwards between the gangway and his own cabin, sometimes peeping out at
one of the quarter-deck ports, to see if the barge was drawing near.

It is a sin to mix up any trifling story with so great an event; but a
circumstance occurred so laughable of itself, rendered more so from the
solemnity of the occasion, that I cannot resist mentioning it. While in
this state of eager expectation, a young midshipman, one of the Bruces
of Kennet, I think, walked very demurely up to Manning, the boatswain,
who was standing all importance at the gangway, and after comically
eyeing his squat figure and bronzed countenance, Bruce gently laid hold
of one of his whiskers, to which the boatswain good-naturedly submitted,
as the youngster was a great favourite with him.

“Manning,” says he, most sentimentally, “this is the proudest day of
your life; you are this day to do the honours of the side to the
greatest man the world ever produced or ever will produce.”

Here the boatswain eyed him with proud delight.

“And along with the great Napoleon, the name (p. 248) of Manning, the
boatswain of the Bellerophon, will go down to the latest posterity; and,
as a relic of that great man, permit me, my dear Manning, to preserve a
lock of your hair.”

Here he made an infernal tug at the boatswain’s immense whisker, and
fairly carried away a part of it, making his way through the crowd, and
down below with the speed of an arrow. The infuriated boatswain, finding
he had passed so rapidly from the sublime to the ridiculous, through the
instrumentality of this imp of a youngster, could vent his rage in no
way but by making his glazed hat spin full force after his tantalizer,
with a “G—d d——n your young eyes and limbs.” The hat, however, fell
far short of young Bruce, and the noise and half burst of laughter the
trick occasioned drew the attention of the Captain, who, coming up, with
a “What, what’s all this?” the poor boatswain was glad to draw to his
hat and resume his position.

The barge approached, and ranged alongside. The first lieutenant came up
the side, and to Maitland’s eager and blunt question, “Have you got
him?” he answered in the affirmative. After the lieutenant came Savary,
followed by Marshal Bertrand, who bowed and fell back a pace on the
gangway to await the ascent of their master. And now came the little
great man himself, wrapped up in his gray greatcoat buttoned to the
chin, three-cocked hat and Hussar boots, without any sword, I suppose as
emblematical of his changed condition. Maitland received him with every
mark of respect, as far as (p. 249) look and deportment could indicate;
but he was not received with the respect due to a crowned head, which
was afterwards insidiously thrown out against Maitland. So far from
that, the captain, on Napoleon’s addressing him, only moved his hat, as
to a general officer, and remained covered while the Emperor spoke to
him. His expressions were brief, I believe only reiterating what he had
stated the day previous in his letter to the Prince Regent, “That he
placed himself under the protection of the British nation, and under
that of the British commander as the representative of his sovereign.”
The captain again moved his hat, and turned to conduct the Emperor to
the cabin. As he passed through the officers assembled on the
quarter-deck, he repeatedly bowed slightly to us, and smiled. What an
ineffable beauty there was in that smile, his teeth were finely set, and
as white as ivory, and his mouth had a charm about it that I have never
seen in any other human countenance. I marked his fine robust figure as
he followed Captain Maitland into the cabin, and, boy as I was, I said
to myself, “Now have I a tale for futurity.”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

I shall never forget that morning we made Ushant. I had come on deck at
four in the morning to take the morning watch, and the washing of decks
had just begun, when, to my astonishment, I saw the Emperor come out of
the cabin at that early hour, and make for the poop-ladder. Had I known
what human misery is as well as I do now, when I have (p. 250) myself
experienced the most cruel injustice and persecution on a lesser scale,
the restlessness of Napoleon, or his being unable to close an eye, would
have in no way surprised me. If a petty care can break our sleep, what
must have been his feeling who had lost the fairest empire on the face
of the globe; nay, who had lost a world? From the wetness of the decks,
he was in danger of falling at every step, and I immediately stepped up
to him, hat in hand, and tendered him my arm, which he laid hold of at
once, smiling, and pointing to the poop, saying in broken English, “the
poop, the poop”; he ascended the poop-ladder leaning on my arm; and
having gained the deck, he quitted his hold and mounted upon a
gun-slide, nodding and smiling thanks, for my attention, and pointing to
the land he said, “Ushant, Cape Ushant.” I replied, “Yes, sire,” and
withdrew. He then took out a pocket-glass and applied it to his eye,
looking eagerly at the land. In this position, he remained from five in
the morning to nearly mid-day, without paying any attention to what was
passing around him, or speaking to one of his suite, who had been
standing behind him for several hours.

No wonder he thus gazed, it was the last look of the land of his glory,
and I am convinced he felt it such. What must have been his feelings in
those few hours, how painful the retrospect, and how awful the look
forward!—there still lay before him that land which he had made so
famous, where his proud name had risen until it “o’ershadowed the
(p. 251) earth with his fame”; there had he been worshipped almost as a
god, and bowed to by every servile knee, that now, in the hour of bitter
adversity, had basely deserted and betrayed him. Never man was read such
a lesson as must have passed before him in that brief space, unless,
really, that the greatness of the change, the suddenness of the fall had
benumbed all feeling, and left him only a mass of contending passions
which combated and stilled each other by the very violence of their
working. But this was not the case with Napoleon, his emotion was
visible, he hung upon the land until it looked only a speck in the
distance, and then, turning, stepped from the gun-slide into the arms of
his faithful Bertrand, who stood ready to receive his fallen master. He
uttered not a word as he tottered down the poop-ladder, his head hung
heavily forward, so as to render his countenance scarcely visible, and
in this way he was conducted to his cabin.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Amongst other plans for killing the time, and lightening the tedium of a
sea passage to the refugees, we bethought us of getting up a play. This
was managed by one of the lieutenants of marines, a fellow of great
taste, and some one or two of the midshipmen, who pretended to skill in
the Shakespearian art. What the piece was I do not recollect, but when
it was announced to the Emperor, by Captain Maitland, and the immortal
honour of his imperial presence begged, for a few minutes, he laughed
very heartily, consented instantly; and (p. 252) turning to Lady
Bertrand, told her that she must stand his interpreter. The stage was
fitted up between decks, more, I am afraid, in ship-shape than
theatrical style; and, sure enough, Napoleon and his whole suite
attended. He was much amused with those who took the female parts,
which, by the way, was the most smooth-chinned of our young gentlemen,
remarking that they were rather a little Dutch built for fine ladies;
and, after good-naturedly sitting for nearly twenty minutes, he rose,
smiled to the actors, and retired. I mention these circumstances, by way
of showing the last glimpses of sunshine that enlivened the exile’s
closing scene.

On the 23rd, we made the land; and, on the 24th, at seven P.M., we came
to an anchor in Torbay, when the first lieutenant was immediately put on
shore, with orders to proceed by land to Plymouth, with dispatches for
Lord Keith, at that time admiral on the Plymouth station.

I happened to be midshipman of the boat, which conveyed the first
lieutenant on shore; and no sooner had we got clear of him, than I was
taken prisoner by some twenty young ladies, marched off to a fine house
in the little town, regaled with tea and clouted cream, and bored with
five thousand questions about Napoleon, the ridiculousness of which I
have often laughed at since. “What like was he—was he really a man?
Were his hands and clothes all over blood when he came on board? Was it
true that he had killed three horses in riding from Waterloo to the
Bellerophon? Were we not all (p. 253) frightened for him? Was his voice
like thunder? Could I possibly get them a sight of the monster, just
that they might be able to say they had seen him?” etc. etc. I assured
those inquisitive nymphs, that the reports they had heard were all
nonsense; that the Emperor was not only a man, but a very handsome man
too; young withal, had no more blood upon his hands or clothes than was
now upon their pure white dresses; that if by chance they got a look of
him at the gangway, they would fall in love with him directly; that so
far from his hands being red with blood, they were as small, white, and
soft as their own charming fingers, and his voice, instead of resembling
thunder, was as sweet and musical as their own. This account of the
Emperor’s beauty perfectly astonished the recluses of Torbay; some
misbelieved altogether, while the curiosity of others was excited beyond
all bounds. A general proposition was now made, that I should bundle
them, like live cattle, into my little cutter, and take them all on
board to gratify their curiosity at once. This was quite contrary to
orders. Not a soul was allowed to come on board the ship, and I had to
plead a thousand excuses for my want of gallantry, in not complying with
the very natural wish of my young companions. As far as I was concerned,
resistance was vain; I was again seized, hurried down to the boat, and
had the pleasure of seeing it filled to cramming with the charmers of
Torbay. This was a devil of a mess;—I might as well have gone (p. 254)
into the mouth of a cannon, as have carried such a cargo alongside the
ship,—the thing was impossible. So I had nothing for it, but to call
aside the boat’s crew, and whisper to them to use gentle violence with
my young boarders, and set them down on shore. This was glorious fun to
Jack;—to work they fell, and in the midst of screams, laughter, and a
few d——n my eyes, ma’am, don’t kick so hard, on the part of the
Bellerophons, we had our nymphs safely deposited on terra firma, and
were off in a trice, enjoying the general discomfiture of the poor
ladies, who were equally laughed at by the lookers-on, on shore…. We
left Torbay, on the 26th July at 4 A.M., and at 4 in the evening came to
an anchor in Plymouth Sound, just within the breakwater, then only
beginning to shew its head above water at low tide. It has since, I am
told, been made a splendid affair; but it then only afforded footing for
a few gazers from the shore, who perched themselves upon it to watch the
cabin-windows of the Bellerophon, in hopes of getting a glimpse of the
Emperor.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The signal for the Emperor’s being on deck was the officers uncovering.
No sooner was this ceremony noticed, than the rush from without took
place, and the screaming and swearing commenced, which was very
considerably heightened upon one occasion by a plan of some of our
wise-headed young gentlemen. Being in want of amusement, they bethought
(p. 255) them of priming the fire engine, which happened to be standing
on the poop, and after clapping a relay of hands ready to ply it to
advantage, we uncovered, and waited the approach of the boats. No sooner
were they within reach, than off went the water-spout, which fell “alike
on the just and the unjust,” for both the dockyard men and the
spectators who came within its compass got a good ducking. This prank
created an infernal confusion, and our trick having been twigged by the
first lieutenant, the chief actors in this notable exploit were ordered
up to the mast-head to enjoy their frolic for a few hours, which
evidently much gratified the unfortunate sufferers from the effects of
the operation.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Maitland, knowing how he stood with “the powers that be,” was determined
not to commit himself by accepting of any present of value from
Napoleon, as he knew it would be directly made a handle of to injure his
character as a British officer. He, therefore, I believe, refused to
accept of a gold snuff-box tendered him by the Emperor as a mark of his
esteem, but he did not refuse the offer of a few dozens of French wine,
as a present to Mrs Maitland, who had been personally introduced to
Napoleon, as far as introduction was possible, that is, she had been
permitted to come within a foot or two of the ship, and Napoleon most
condescendingly stepped to the gangway, smiled and bowed to her. Mrs
Maitland was a charming little woman in those (p. 256) days,—alas! we
are all getting old now,—a daughter of green Erin, and Napoleon seemed
greatly pleased with her appearance, hence the offer of this trifling
present as a token of respect. The captain took it on shore in the gig,
and no sooner had she struck the beach than the custom-house officers
jumped on board, and made a seizure of it, hauled the boat up upon the
beach, and clapped his Majesty’s broad arrow upon her, that fatal mark
indicative of being in “the hands of the Philistines” of the revenue. I
shall never forget Maitland’s countenance when he came on board after
this ridiculous and provoking affair. Being deprived of his own boat by
“the land-sharks,” he was obliged to hire a shore boat to bring off
himself and his boat’s crew, and she was nearly alongside before the
first lieutenant discovered that there was a naval officer in her, and
on taking a look with his glass, he exclaimed, “Good God! there is the
captain coming off in a shore boat.” The side was manned, and when
Maitland stepped on board, he turned to Mott with a most rueful
countenance, remarking, “they have seized the wine.” This was petty
work, and to make the thing more provoking, they had poor Maitland stuck
up next day in the Plymothian journals as having been detected in the
act of conveying wine and other presents on shore, received from
Napoleon. What was the fate of the wine, I do not know, but the gig, of
course, was restored immediately, and I should suppose the wine also,
considering the shameful nature of the seizure.

(p. 257) On the 4th of August we left Plymouth Sound in company with the
Tonnant, bearing the flag of Admiral Lord Keith, and on the 6th we came
to an anchor off Berryhead, there to wait the arrival of the
Northumberland, which was hourly expected. She made her appearance in
the course of the day, and after due salutes from both admiral’s ships,
in which noisy greeting we of course joined, for we are very polite at
sea, in our own thundering way, she took up her station close by us.

Towards evening Lord Keith came on board of us, and had a long personal
interview with Napoleon in the cabin, which we may judge was not of the
pleasantest nature. From some intemperate threat of Savary, I believe,
who had declared that he would not allow his master to leave the
Bellerophon alive, to go into such wretched captivity, it was judged
proper to deprive the refugees of their arms. A good many swords, and
several brace of pistols, marked with a large silver N. at the butt end,
were brought down to the gun-room, where they remained for some hours.
Three of the swords belonged to Napoleon, and two of them were pointed
out to us as those he wore at Marengo and Austerlitz.

I never in my life felt such a strong inclination to lay my hands on
what was not my own. A sword I durst not think of, but could I have got
a brace of pistols, or even one solitary pistol, belonging to Napoleon,
I would have thought myself the happiest man alive; but it would not do,
detection was certain, and with bitter vexation I saw them carried
(p. 258) out of the gun-room. Now, reader, do you think this would have
been a pardonable theft? Their value was nothing in my eyes; it was a
relic of the great man I wanted, and I cared not what it was, or how I
came by it; therefore, had I been able to secure a pistol, my conscience
would never have smote me with having done wrong; and I am sure, could
the Emperor have known with what a pure spirit of devotion I meant to
commit the theft, he would have ordered me a brace instantly.

It was this night settled that our surgeon, Barry O’Meara, who
afterwards became so conspicuous for his spirited defence of his patient
against the tyranny of Sir Hudson Lowe (I hate to write that man’s
name,) should follow Napoleon to St Helena in the character of surgeon,
his own, who looked a poor creature, and was continually sea-sick while
on board, having declined, I believe, to accompany him farther, and the
7th was appointed for Napoleon leaving the ship.

The 7th came; it was a dull cloudy sunless day, and every countenance
was overcast with gloom. We had not seen the Emperor for a week, and we
were all anxious to observe the change that the horrible tidings of his
destination had made upon him. Lord Keith, Admiral Cockburn, and Captain
Ross, came on board about eleven o’clock; and it was intimated to
Napoleon, that they were ready to conduct him on board the
Northumberland. A general’s guard of marines was drawn up on the
quarter-deck, to receive him as he came out of the (p. 259) cabin;
while part of his suite, and we officers, were ranged about, anxiously
waiting the appearance of the future exile of St Helena.

Napoleon was long of attending to the intimation of the Admiral’s; and
upon Cockburn’s becoming impatient, and remarking to old Lord Keith that
he should be put in mind, Keith replied, “No, no, much greater men than
either you or I have waited longer for him before now; let him take his
time, let him take his time.” This was nobly said of the fine old
Scotchman; and although Cockburn and I are blood relations, and I have a
particular penchant for my lineage, I cannot help remarking that his
manner denoted a great want of feeling. I suppose he was pitched upon by
Castlereagh as a proper tool to execute his harsh commands.

At length Napoleon appeared, but oh, how sadly changed from the time we
had last seen him on deck. Though quite plain, he was scrupulously
cleanly in his person and dress, but that had been forgot, his clothes
were ill put on, his beard unshaved, and his countenance pale and
haggard. There was a want of firmness in his gait; his brow was
overcast, and his whole visage bespoke the deepest melancholy; and it
needed but a glance to convince the most careless observer that Napoleon
considered himself a doomed man. In this trying hour, however, he lost
not his courtesy or presence of mind; instinctively he raised his hat to
the guard of marines, when they presented arms as he passed, slightly
inclined his head, and even (p. 260) smiled to us officers as he passed
through us, returned the salute of the admirals with calm dignity, and,
walking up to Captain Maitland, addressed him with great eagerness for
nearly ten minutes.

How distinct is every feature, every trait, every line of that majestic
countenance in my mind’s eye at this moment, now that two-and-twenty
years have passed away; but who could witness such a scene and ever
forget it? The Romans said that a “great man struggling with adversity
was a sight that the gods looked on with pleasure.” Here, indeed, was
adversity, and here was true greatness struggling against it; but to a
mere mortal it was a heart-rending sight. The ship’s deck looked like a
place of execution, and we only wanted the headsman, his block, and his
axe, to complete the scene.

The purport of his speech to Captain Maitland, was thanking him, his
officers, and ship’s company, for the polite attention he had received
while on board of the Bellerophon, which he should ever hold in kind
remembrance. Something more he would have said after the first pause,
and a feeling of deep emotion laboured in his face, and swelled his
breast, he looked earnestly in Maitland’s face for a moment, as if he
was about to renew his speech, but utterance seemed denied; and,
slightly moving his hat in salutation, he turned to Savary and
L’Allemand, who were not allowed to accompany him to St Helena, and
spoke to them for a few minutes.

What a horrid gloom overhung the ship: had his (p. 261) execution been
about to take place there could not have prevailed a more dead silence,
so much so, that had a pin fallen from one of the tops on the deck, I am
convinced it would have been heard; and to any one who has known the
general buzz of one of our seventy-fours, even at the quietest hour, it
is a proof how deeply the attention of every man on board must have been
riveted. Before leaving the ship he turned to us on the quarter-deck,
once more waved his hand in token of adieu, took hold of the man-ropes,
and walked down the side, taking his seat in the Northumberland’s barge
between Lord Keith and Admiral Cockburn.

Even in this hour of hopeless misery, he lost not sight of that
indescribable charm by which he won the hearts of men. On looking back
to the ship he saw every head, that could get stuck out of a port,
gazing after him; even the rough countenances of the men bespoke a
sympathy for his cruel fate, and, apparently conscious of their
feelings, the exiled chief again lifted his hat, and inclined his head
to the gazing ship’s company.

THE END.
PRINTED BY WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS.

Footnote 1: They are fully detailed in Marshall’s Naval Biography,
vol. ii. part 1, pp. 387 et seq.[Back to Main Text]

Footnote 2: Admiral Somerville married Mary Stuart, eldest daughter of
David Maitland Makgill Crichton of Rankeilour, and grand-niece of Sir
Frederick. I am indebted for the use of this letter to the courtesy of
his son, Mr D. M. M. Crichton Somerville.[Back to Main Text]

Footnote 3: Chasse-Marées are small decked vessels, rigged as luggers;
they are generally from twenty to thirty-five tons burthen, and are used
almost exclusively for the coasting trade of France. Though there is no
doubt that, during the summer months, a vessel of this description might
succeed in making the voyage to America; yet if we take into
consideration the indolent habits that Buonaparte had of late years
given way to; the very small space for the accommodation of himself and
suite, and for the stowage of provisions, water, and other necessaries;
that there was no friendly port he could have touched at, to gain
supplies;—the utter impracticability of his reaching his destination in
a vessel of that description, even if he had eluded the vigilance of our
cruisers, will at once be evident to every one.[Back to Main Text]

Footnote 4: I have been induced to insert Buonaparte’s observation on
Mrs M.’s portrait, as well as one he made on seeing her alongside of the
Bellerophon in Plymouth Sound, as they show, in a strong point of view,
a peculiar trait in his character; that of making a favourable
impression on those with whom he conversed, by seizing every opportunity
of saying what he considered would be pleasing and flattering to their
feelings.

[I have passed over the important and interesting passage respecting Mrs
M. I trust she will consent it should remain, for I think everything
connected with such a remarkable passage of history becomes historical.
Perhaps it will somewhat change the view of the subject, and relieve Mrs
M.’s delicacy, if we consider it not as immediately applicable to Mrs M.
personally, but as a point illustrative of Bonaparte’s address. It was
of importance to him to secure Capt. Maitland’s good opinion, and he
took a delicate and ingenious way of giving pleasure. I have always
understood that there could be only one opinion of the justice of the
compliment, yet I think the praise would have been bestowed even had the
portrait less charm. I do pray that Mrs M. will consent to be
immortal.—Scott.][Back to Main Text]

Footnote 5: They were part of the officers and crew of the Æneas
store-ship, mentioned as having been detained on the 18th of June, who
were on board the Bellerophon about a week, and were landed at Isle
d’Aix, in a chasse-marée, a few days before Buonaparte’s arrival there.[Back to Main Text]

Footnote 6: I was afterwards told, that one of the frigates, at Isle
d’Aix, had changed her eighteen pounders for twenty-fours.[Back to Main Text]

Footnote 7: [It was an odd idea that you should be like Lord
Lauderdale.—Scott.][Back to Main Text]

Footnote 8: The books that seemed to occupy his attention, when I had
an opportunity of observing him, were, a Life of Washington, and a
translation of Ossian’s Poems.[Back to Main Text]

Footnote 9: [I cannot assent to your leaving out what Madame Bertrand
said respecting Bonaparte. But if she spoke favourably of him in her
calmer moments, I think it might be mentioned in this place so as to
claim some allowance for her irritated state of feelings. It is,
by-the-by, precisely at such moments that real opinions start out which
are at other times carefully suppressed. What she said in her passion
was very true: B. was not fond of rendering his favourites independent.
I really think you cannot leave it out: as well omit the threat of
Savary &c., to kill B.—Scott.][Back to Main Text]

Footnote 10: [The business of the Habeas Corpus is so whimsical that
Capt. M. should get some legal friend to give a brief idea of the nature
of the process and the purpose for which it was resorted to. The book
will certainly be instantly translated into French, and such an
explanation as I have hinted at will be extremely necessary. It should
be thrown into a note; a few words should be added on the absurdity of
the attempt. It will be otherwise thought and said that Bonaparte was
kidnapped out of England contrary to the English laws. The real nature
of the transaction should be distinctly explained.—Scott. The following
note accordingly appears in the original edition:—]

To prevent erroneous impressions from going abroad, and to put this
curious circumstance in its true light, I have prevailed on a friend,
who was educated for the English bar, to favour me with the following
account of the writs of the Habeas Corpus and subpœna; by which it
will appear that no such process, or any other, as far as I can
understand, could have had the effect of removing Buonaparte from one of
His Majesty’s ships, and causing him to be landed in England in
opposition to the commands of the Government of the country.

“It is a common mistake to suppose that the celebrated Habeas Corpus Act
made it a matter of right, for every person, under any restraint
whatever to obtain this writ. That statute related to persons committed
by legal process for criminal offences, and the object of it was to
prevent them being detained an unnecessary or unreasonable length of
time, without being brought to trial. Other cases of alleged illegal
detention were left as at common law: in these the granting or refusal
of the writ is discretionary in the Court, or Judge applied to, and it
will only be issued on a proper case being laid before them. No such
writ, it is believed, was ever applied for in Buonaparte’s case; nor, if
applied for, would it have been obtained. Where a foreigner, in private
life, is brought to England, and detained against his will, the Court
will grant the writ; but any application of Buonaparte, or on his
behalf, must have shown him to have surrendered, and to have been then
detained as a prisoner of war. Under that character, he was not entitled
to the benefit of this writ; the Courts having refused it on the
application of individuals brought to England as prisoners of war, even
when applied for by the subject of a neutral power, who swore to his
having been compelled by force to serve the enemy, and to have been
captured in the course of that compulsory service.

“The real transaction alluded to, is understood to have been this: an
individual being under prosecution for a libel on a naval officer,
censuring his conduct on the West India station, when a French squadron
was in those seas, pretended that it would aid his defence to show that
the French ships were at that time in an unserviceable condition, and
that Buonaparte would be able to prove the fact. He accordingly obtained
a subpœna for him to attend as a witness on the trial in the Court of
King’s Bench, and endeavoured himself, and not by a lawyer, as at first
supposed, to get on board the Bellerophon to deliver it.

“This transaction probably gave currency to the rumours of a Habeas
Corpus having been issued, particularly as one description of that writ
is, the proceeding for bringing a prisoner into Court to give evidence,
which having given, he is remanded to gaol.

“Had the individual in question succeeded in his attempt to get on board
the ship, and deliver the subpœna, it would have been of no
assistance either to himself or Buonaparte, if it was at all intended to
benefit the latter, as it would not have been possible for him to obey
it, there not being any authority for Captain Maitland, who was
answerable for his safety as a prisoner, allowing him to do so. It was,
however, considered the most prudent course, by Lord Keith, not to
permit the delivery of the process, the exact nature of which was at the
moment unknown, lest it might involve himself or Captain Maitland in any
difficulty, by an apparent disrespect to the Court, and more
particularly as it might create erroneous impressions in Buonaparte’s
mind, that a breach of the law was committed in his not being permitted
to comply with the terms of the document, not aware that it contained no
power authorising his release from detention as a prisoner of war.”[Back to Main Text]

Footnote 11: [I do entreat and conjure that the natural and sailor-like
speech of Lord Keith be not tampered with. It is really a sin to knock
the spirit out of a work by such over-delicacy.—Scott.][Back to Main Text]

Footnote 12: Since this narrative was written in the year 1815, it has
been proved by Buonaparte’s will, that either his attendants were
misinformed, or that they, as well as himself, misrepresented the state
of his finances, as he left in the hands of Lafitte, the banker, in
Paris, a sum of money amounting to nearly four hundred thousand pounds
sterling, besides a very considerable sum said to be vested in the
American funds.[Back to Main Text]

Footnote 13: [I think the handsome and gentlemanlike account of Madame
Bertrand is a complete amende honorable for anything said of her in
the course of the journal, and forms a complete refutation to the
objections made in the sense of delicacy towards that lady for
mentioning some part of the conversation when in warmer moments. If you
were to mention your having afterwards met her in France, I think it
would be interesting.—Scott.][Back to Main Text]

Footnote 14: [Lallemand, if I recollect right, had begun the
counter-revolution in Bonaparte’s favour in the north-east of France,
and anticipated the moment of success, so that his scheme had failed. I
have some reason to think (being at Paris at the time and much with
those who knew something of what was going on) that he would have been
condemned to death along with Ney had he fallen into the hands of the
restored Government. His person should be described.—Scott.][Back to Main Text]

Footnote 15: “Our new first lieutenant, Mr Andrew Mott, was the best
officer I ever saw in charge of a quarter-deck. I often wondered when
that man slept, eat, or dressed himself, for he was hardly ever missed
from deck, was always fresh and vigorous, and his dress and appearance
would, at any time, have done honour to the queen’s drawing-room.
Maitland was, withal, rather a little easy-going, and it occurred to me
that, knowing his defect in this way, he contrived always to get a
tolerable tartar of a first lieutenant, so that between the captain’s
good nature and the lieutenant’s severity, which he occasionally checked
and tempered when he thought the lieutenant was likely to exceed bounds,
the ship was kept in capital discipline.”—Home’s Memoirs, p. 209.[Back to Main Text]

THE SURRENDER OF NAPOLEON

REAR-ADMIRAL SIR FREDERICK LEWIS MAITLAND, K.C.B.

(p. v) NOTE.

(p. vii) PREFACE.

(p. xv) CONTENTS.

NARRATIVE.

APPENDIX.

ADDITIONAL APPENDIX.

(p. xxiii) ILLUSTRATIONS.

(p. xxv) MEMOIROFSIR FREDERICK LEWIS MAITLAND.

Captain Maitland to Rear-Admiral Drury, Cork.

(p. 001) NARRATIVE

Copy of a Letter received by Captain Maitland, of H.M.S. Bellerophon, off Rochefort, on the 30th of June, 1815, without date or subscription.

(p. 013) Extract of a Letter from Rear-Admiral Sir Henry Hotham, K.C.B., addressed to Captain Maitland of H.M.S. Bellerophon, dated Quiberon Bay, July 6, 1815.

Extract of an Order from Rear-Admiral Sir Henry Hotham, K.C.B.; addressed to Captain Maitland of H.M.S. Bellerophon, dated Superb, Quiberon Bay, 6th July, 1815.

Extract of a Letter from Rear-Admiral Sir Henry Hotham, K.C.B., addressed to Captain Maitland, of H.M.S. Bellerophon, dated Superb, Quiberon Bay, July 7, 1815.

(p. 022) Extract of a Letter from Rear-Admiral Sir Henry Hotham, K.C.B., addressed to Captain Maitland, of H.M.S. Bellerophon; not dated, but must have been written on the 8th of July, 1815.

(p. 024) Extract of an Order from Rear-Admiral Sir Henry Hotham, K.C.B., addressed to Captain Maitland, of H.M.S. Bellerophon, dated H.M.S. Superb, Quiberon Bay, 8th July, 1815.

(p. 051) List of persons composing the suite of Napoleon Buonaparte, enclosed in the above Letter, and the manner in which they were distributed during the passage to England.

Extract of a Letter from Captain Maitland, of His Majesty’s ship Bellerophon, addressed to the Secretary of the Admiralty, dated in Basque Roads, 14th July, 1815.

Extract of an Order from Rear Admiral Sir Henry Hotham, K.C.B., addressed to Captain Maitland of H.M.S. Bellerophon, dated Superb, in Basque Roads, July 15th, 1815.

Extract of a Letter From Captain Maitland, Addressed To Admiral Viscount Keith, G.C.B., Dated on Board H.M. Ship Bellerophon, at Sea, July 18th, 1815.

(p. 109) Extract of an Order from Admiral Viscount Keith, G.C.B., addressed to Captain Maitland, of H.M.S. Bellerophon, dated Ville de Paris, Hamoaze, 23rd July, 1815.

Extract of a Letter from Admiral Viscount Keith, G.C.B., addressed to Captain Maitland, of H.M.S. Bellerophon, dated Ville de Paris, Hamoaze, July 24, 1815.

Extract of a Letter from Admiral Viscount Keith, G.C.B., addressed to Captain Maitland, of H.M.S, Bellerophon, dated 24th July, 1815.

Extract of an Order from Admiral Viscount Keith, G.C.B., to Captain Maitland, of H.M.S. Bellerophon, dated Hamoaze, July 26, 1815.

Extract of a Letter from the Secretary of the Admiralty to Admiral Viscount Keith, G.C.B., dated 24th July, 1815, enclosed in the foregoing.

There was also enclosed the following copy of a Memorandum, addressed to the respective Captains of H.M. Ships Liffey and Eurotas.

Extract of a Letter from the Secretary of the Admiralty, addressed to Captain Maitland, of H.M.S. Bellerophon, dated 25th July, 1815.

Extract of a Letter from Admiral Viscount Keith, G.C.B., addressed to Captain Maitland, of H.M.S. Bellerophon, dated Ville de Paris, Hamoaze, 27th July, 1815.

Extract of an Order from the Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty, to Admiral Viscount Keith, G.C.B., dated July 25th, 1815.

Extract of a Letter from Admiral Viscount Keith, G.C.B., addressed to Captain Maitland of H.M.S. Bellerophon, dated Ville de Paris, Hamoaze, 27th July, 1815.

Extract of a Note from Admiral Viscount Keith, addressed to Captain Maitland, of H.M.S. Bellerophon, dated Tonnant, 4th August.

Buonaparte’s Protest.

Extract of a Memorandum from Admiral Viscount Keith, G.C.B., addressed to Captain Maitland, of H.M.S. Bellerophon, dated Tonnant, off the Start, 6th August, 1815.

Copy of the order alluded to.

(p. 189) Extract of a Letter from Admiral Viscount Keith, G.C.B., addressed to Captain Maitland, of H.M.S. Bellerophon, dated Tonnant, off Berryhead, 7th August, 1815.

(p. 231) APPENDIX.

(p. 241) ADDITIONAL APPENDIX.

I.

LIST OF OFFICERS borne on the Books of H.M.S. Bellerophon in July 1815.

(p. 242) II.

Letter from Ephraim Graebke, assistant-surgeon on board H.M.S. Bellerophon, to his mother, giving an account of Napoleon’s surrender (British Museum, Additional MSS. 34,710, f. 81).

(p. 246) III.

Extracts from Memoirs of an Aristocrat, and Reminiscences of the Emperor Napoleon, by a Midshipman of the Bellerophon [George Home]. London, Whittaker & Co., and Bell & Bradfute, Edinburgh, 1838.

THE END.PRINTED BY WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS.

THE
SURRENDER OF NAPOLEON

REAR-ADMIRAL
SIR FREDERICK LEWIS MAITLAND, K.C.B.

(p. xxv) MEMOIR
OF
SIR FREDERICK LEWIS MAITLAND.

Captain Maitland to Rear-Admiral Drury,
Cork.

Copy of a Letter received by Captain Maitland, of H.M.S.
Bellerophon, off Rochefort, on the 30th of June, 1815, without
date or subscription.

(p. 013) Extract of a Letter from Rear-Admiral Sir Henry Hotham,
K.C.B., addressed to Captain Maitland of H.M.S. Bellerophon,
dated Quiberon Bay, July 6, 1815.

Extract of an Order from Rear-Admiral Sir Henry Hotham, K.C.B.;
addressed to Captain Maitland of H.M.S. Bellerophon, dated
Superb, Quiberon Bay, 6th July, 1815.

Extract of a Letter from Rear-Admiral Sir Henry Hotham, K.C.B.,
addressed to Captain Maitland, of H.M.S. Bellerophon, dated
Superb, Quiberon Bay, July 7, 1815.

(p. 022) Extract of a Letter from Rear-Admiral Sir Henry Hotham,
K.C.B., addressed to Captain Maitland, of H.M.S. Bellerophon; not
dated, but must have been written on the 8th of July, 1815.

(p. 024) Extract of an Order from Rear-Admiral Sir Henry Hotham,
K.C.B., addressed to Captain Maitland, of H.M.S. Bellerophon,
dated H.M.S. Superb, Quiberon Bay, 8th July, 1815.

(p. 051) List of persons composing the suite of Napoleon Buonaparte,
enclosed in the above Letter, and the manner in which they were
distributed during the passage to England.

Extract of a Letter from Captain Maitland, of His Majesty’s ship
Bellerophon, addressed to the Secretary of the Admiralty, dated
in Basque Roads, 14th July, 1815.

Extract of an Order from Rear Admiral Sir Henry Hotham, K.C.B.,
addressed to Captain Maitland of H.M.S. Bellerophon, dated
Superb, in Basque Roads, July 15th, 1815.

Extract of a Letter From Captain Maitland, Addressed To Admiral
Viscount Keith, G.C.B., Dated on Board H.M. Ship Bellerophon, at
Sea, July 18th, 1815.

(p. 109) Extract of an Order from Admiral Viscount Keith, G.C.B.,
addressed to Captain Maitland, of H.M.S. Bellerophon, dated Ville
de Paris, Hamoaze, 23rd July, 1815.

Extract of a Letter from Admiral Viscount Keith, G.C.B.,
addressed to Captain Maitland, of H.M.S. Bellerophon, dated Ville
de Paris, Hamoaze, July 24, 1815.

Extract of a Letter from Admiral Viscount Keith, G.C.B.,
addressed to Captain Maitland, of H.M.S, Bellerophon, dated 24th
July, 1815.

Extract of an Order from Admiral Viscount Keith, G.C.B., to
Captain Maitland, of H.M.S. Bellerophon, dated Hamoaze, July 26,
1815.

Extract of a Letter from the Secretary of the Admiralty to
Admiral Viscount Keith, G.C.B., dated 24th July, 1815, enclosed
in the foregoing.

There was also enclosed the following copy of a Memorandum,
addressed to the respective Captains of H.M. Ships Liffey and
Eurotas.

Extract of a Letter from the Secretary of the Admiralty,
addressed to Captain Maitland, of H.M.S. Bellerophon, dated 25th
July, 1815.

Extract of a Letter from Admiral Viscount Keith, G.C.B.,
addressed to Captain Maitland, of H.M.S. Bellerophon, dated Ville
de Paris, Hamoaze, 27th July, 1815.

Extract of an Order from the Lords Commissioners of the
Admiralty, to Admiral Viscount Keith, G.C.B., dated July 25th,
1815.

Extract of a Letter from Admiral Viscount Keith, G.C.B.,
addressed to Captain Maitland of H.M.S. Bellerophon, dated Ville
de Paris, Hamoaze, 27th July, 1815.

Extract of a Note from Admiral Viscount Keith, addressed to
Captain Maitland, of H.M.S. Bellerophon, dated Tonnant, 4th
August.

Extract of a Memorandum from Admiral Viscount Keith, G.C.B.,
addressed to Captain Maitland, of H.M.S. Bellerophon, dated
Tonnant, off the Start, 6th August, 1815.

(p. 189) Extract of a Letter from Admiral Viscount Keith, G.C.B.,
addressed to Captain Maitland, of H.M.S. Bellerophon, dated
Tonnant, off Berryhead, 7th August, 1815.

Letter from Ephraim Graebke, assistant-surgeon on board H.M.S.
Bellerophon, to his mother, giving an account of Napoleon’s
surrender (British Museum, Additional MSS. 34,710, f. 81).

Extracts from Memoirs of an Aristocrat, and Reminiscences of the
Emperor Napoleon, by a Midshipman of the Bellerophon [George
Home]. London, Whittaker & Co., and Bell & Bradfute, Edinburgh,
1838.

THE END.
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