English Caricature and Satire on Napoleon I. Volume II (of 2)

CHAPTER LIX

NAPOLEON A PRISONER – SENT TO THE ISLE OF AIX – NEGOTIATIONS FOR SURRENDER – GOES ON BOARD THE ‘BELLEROPHON.’

Napoleon retired to Malmaison, but was not long there before General Becker came to him and informed him that he was appointed by the Provisional Government to command the troops detailed for his protection. Napoleon knew the meaning of this message, but even being made a prisoner by his own soldiery did not quell his spirit.

But the presence of Napoleon at Malmaison embarrassed the Government, and Becker had orders to convey Napoleon with all speed to the Isle of Aix. Accordingly they set out, and reached Rochefort on July 3, where he remained until the 8th, when he embarked on board the ‘Saale’ frigate, but without any hope of getting to sea, because of the blockade of the port by the ‘Bellerophon’ and other English men-of-war. He occasionally landed on the Isle of Aix; but all hopes of reaching America seem to have been abandoned, as Las Cases and Savary were sent on board the ‘Bellerophon’ to inquire of Captain Maitland whether he knew anything of the passports Napoleon expected from the British Government, and whether any opposition would be offered to his sailing to the United States. Captain Maitland replied that he knew nothing of the intentions of his Government, but he certainly could not allow any ship-of-war to leave the port, and in the course of conversation asked, ‘Why not seek an asylum in England?’

The hint thus dropped fructified; for, after another visit of Las Cases and General Lallemand on board the ‘Bellerophon’ on July 14, avowedly to repeat their previous questions, the matter was openly discussed, and on mentioning the result of their interview to the Emperor he agreed to this course, and desired Las Cases to tell Captain Maitland to prepare and receive him and his suite the next day. At the same time he entrusted General Gourgaud with an autograph letter to the Prince Regent, directing him to take it to England and deliver it into the Prince’s own hands.

From the date of this letter, which was the 13th, it would seem that Napoleon had, on the previous day, made up his mind what course to pursue. The following is the text of the letter: —

Your Royal Highness,

Exposed to the factions which divide 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 place 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.

Rochefort, 13th July, 1815.

On the 15th, then, Napoleon and suite went on board the ‘Bellerophon,’ where they were received by Captain Maitland and his officers; the Emperor saying, ‘I am come to throw myself on the Protection of your Prince and Laws.’

Caricature of such a scene seems to be in very bad taste, but as it was done, and is so truly comic, I cannot refrain from reproducing it.

‘Compliments and Congées, or Little Boney’s surrender to the Tars of Old England!!!’ is a highly humorous picture by G. Cruikshank (July 24, 1815). Napoleon surrenders himself, cringing and weeping, together with his suite, whom he describes, on board the ‘Bellerophon,’ and is received with due respect by Captain Maitland. The ex-Emperor says, ‘O, Mr. Bull, I am so happy to see you, I always had a great regard for the British Sailors, they are such noble fellows, so brave, so generous!! You see I am in a great deal of trouble, but I hope you will take pity on me and my suite, namely my barber, my cook, and my washerwoman, together with a few of my brave generals who ran away with me from the Battle of Waterloo, and I do assure you we will have great pleasure in surrendering to the good English – I should feel extremely obliged if you would take us to America, but if you will not, I beg you will take us to England, for I hate those Bears, and cursed Cossacks, and as for the French Nation now – why they may be d – d. Old England for ever I say.’ And his suite servilely follow their fallen master’s lead with cries of ‘Vivent les Anglais!’

Captain Maitland receives him with doffed hat and his hand on his heart, saying, ‘Indeed Mr. Boney I am greatly obliged to you for your compliments, and I assure you we are as happy to receive you, as you are to surrender. I’m afraid they would not take that care of you in America, that they will in England. Therefore I shall conduct you to the latter place, as quick as possible.’ The opinions of the sailors are more graphic than polite: ‘My eyes, what a sneaking hound he is!!’ ‘I say Jack, do you think they’ll clap him in Exeter Change amongst the wild beasts?’ ‘No, I suppose as how he’ll be put in the Monkey’s den in the Tower, or else they’ll send him about with the dancing bear!’

Charles etched (July 15, 1815) ‘The Bone-a-part in a fresh place.’ This represents Bonaparte caught in a spring man-trap, which has broken his leg. He surrenders his sword to John Bull, who is dressed as a gardener: ‘Here take this Mr. Bull, you have me in your power – I must trust to your usual generosity, and most humbly acknowledge that I am truly sorry I ever came here.’ John Bull makes no answer, but soliloquises thus instead: ‘He has plundered most of his neighbours’ Gardens, but I thought he would be sorry if ever he set his foot in mine. I suppose this big sword is what he intended to cut my cabbages with, and perhaps my head too! but I’ll have it for a pruning knife, ’twill serve me to lop his Branches with, if any should spring up after I have taken care of him.’

G. Cruikshank, in August 1815, published a contrast – ‘Buonaparte on the 17th of June – Buonaparte on the 17th of July, 1815.’ On the former date he is seen vapouring on the French coast, flourishing his sword, and calling out, ‘Ha, ha, you Bull beast, you Blackguard Islander, you see I am come back again, and now you shall see what I shall do with you, you wretch! you thought I was done over, did you? you thought I was going to stay at Elba? D – n all Elbas, abdications, Englishmen and their Allies. I’ll play Hell with them all.’ John Bull, seated securely on his own shore, calmly enjoying his tankard of ale and his long clay pipe, puffs out a huge mouthful of smoke at his adversary, with a contemptuous ‘You may be d – d. I’ll make a Tobacco stopper of you.’

But within one short month what a change had come over the scene! Napoleon, a weeping, kneeling suppliant, on board the ‘Bellerophon,’ moans out: —

 
O good Mr. Bull! I wish you to know
(Although you are my greatest foe,)
That my career is at an end:
And I wish you now to stand my friend.
For, though at the Battle of Waterloo
I was by you beat black & blue,
Yet you see I wish to live with you,
For I’m sure what is said of your goodness is true.
And now if in England you’ll let me remain
I ne’er will be guilty of bad Tricks again.
 

John Bull, however, knowing the slippery customer he has to deal with, reflects: ‘Let me see; – first of all you sprung from the Island of Corsica, and when you was kick’d out of France, and went to the Island of Elba, you made another spring into France again. – And now when you are kick’d out of France a second time, you want to come and live on my Island– But it won’t do, Master Boney; – you’ll be making another spring into France again, I suppose – so I tell you what – I’ll send you to the Island of St. Helena, and we’ll see what sort of a spring you’ll make then.’

George Cruikshank contributes a very badly drawn etching (September 1, 1815) of ‘Boney’s threatened Invasion brought to bear, – or, taking a View of the English coast from ye Poop of the Bellerophon.’ The English coast is represented by a ‘Citadel,’ in front of which is a gallows prepared. One of his suite points it out to him: ‘By gar! mon Emperor, dey have erect von prospect for you.’ Napoleon, who is mounted on a breech of the gun, looks through his telescope and says, ‘Me no like the d – n prospect.’ A Jack Tar sitting on another gun gives as his opinion, ‘I thinks as how, Master Boney, that instead of sending you to Hell bay, they should have sent you to Hell at once.’

CHAPTER LX

NAPOLEON ON BOARD THE ‘BELLEROPHON’ – ARRIVAL AT TORBAY – CURIOSITY OF THE PEOPLE – THE ENGLISH GOVERNMENT DETERMINE TO SEND HIM TO ST. HELENA

On board the ‘Bellerophon’ he was treated with every consideration by Captain Maitland. He was still looked upon as Emperor, and dined off his own gold plate, the dinner being ordered by his own maître d’hôtel; and when he visited the ‘Superb’ he was received with all the honours accorded to royalty, with the exception of a salute being fired. On the 16th July they set sail for England, and at daybreak on the 24th they were close to Dartmouth. Napoleon rose at six and went on the poop, surveying the coast, which he much admired: ‘What a beautiful country! it very much resembles Porto Ferrajo at Elba.’

About eight A.M. they anchored at Torbay, and no sooner was it known that Napoleon was on board the ‘Bellerophon’ than the bay was covered with vessels and boats full of people. A neighbouring gentleman sent the Emperor a present of fruit. What a different reception from the language of the ‘Times’⁵⁶: —

‘Our paper of this day will satisfy the sceptics, for such there were beginning to be, as to the capture of that bloody miscreant, who has so long tortured Europe, Napoleon Buonaparte. Savages are always found to unite the greatest degree of cunning to the ferocious part of their nature. The cruelty of this person is written in characters of blood in almost every country in Europe, and in the contiguous angles of Africa and Asia which he visited and nothing can more strongly evince the universal conviction of his low, perfidious craft, than the opinion which was beginning to get abroad, that even after his capture had been officially announced, in both France, and England, he might yet have found means to escape. However, all doubts upon this point are at an end, by his arrival off the British coast; and, if he be not now placed beyond the possibility of again outraging the peace of Europe, England will certainly never again deserve to have heroes such as those who have fought, and bled, at Waterloo, for this, his present overthrow. The lives of the brave men who fell on that memorable day will have been absolutely thrown away by a thoughtless country; the grand object attained by their valour will have been frustrated, and we shall do little less than insult over their remains, almost before they have ceased to bleed. But Fortune, seconding their undaunted efforts, has put it in our power to do far otherwise.

‘Captain Sartorius of the Slaney frigate, arrived yesterday with dispatches from Captain Maitland of the Bellerophon, confirming all the antecedent accounts of Buonaparte’s surrender, with various other details, and closing them by their natural catastrophe – his safe conveyance to England. He is, therefore, what we may call, here. Captain Sartorius delivered his dispatches to Lord Melville, at Wimbledon, by whom their contents were communicated to Lord Liverpool, at his seat at Combe Wood; summonses were immediately issued for a Cabinet Council to meet at 12 o’clock; what passed there was, of course, not suffered to transpire; our narrative must therefore revert to the Slaney frigate, and the accounts brought by her. She had been sent forward by Captain Maitland to Plymouth, with the dispatches announcing that Buonaparte was on board the Bellerophon, with a numerous suite. But it was the intention of Captain Maitland himself, to proceed to Torbay, and not to land his prisoners until he had received orders from Government.

‘Buonaparte’s suite, as it is called, consists of upwards of 40 persons, among whom was Bertrand, Savary, Lallemand! Grogan,⁵⁷ and several women. He has been allowed to take on board carriages and horses, but admission was denied to about 50 cavalry, for whom he had the impudence to require accommodation. This wretch has really lived in the commission of every crime, so long, that he has lost all sight and knowledge of the difference that exists between good and evil, and hardly knows when he is doing wrong, except he be taught by proper chastisement. A creature – who ought to be greeted with a gallows as soon as he lands – to think of an attendance of fifty horsemen! He had at first wanted to make conditions with Captain Maitland as to his treatment, but the British officer very properly declared that he must refer him upon this subject to his Government.

‘When he had been some time on board, he asked the Captain what chance two large frigates, well manned, would have with a seventy-four. The answer, we understand, which he received to this enquiry, did not give him any cause to regret that he had not tried his fortune in a naval combat with the relative forces in question. By the way, we should not have been surprised if he had come into an action with the two frigates, and then endeavoured to escape in his own, and leave the other to her fate. It has been the constant trick of this villain, whenever he has got his companions into a scrape, to leave them in it, and seek his own safety by flight. In Egypt, in the Moscow expedition, and at Waterloo, such was his conduct.

‘He likewise had the assurance to address a letter to the Prince Regent, and M. Grogan, one of his party, was put on board the Slaney as the bearer of it; but when this vessel reached Plymouth, the officer on duty there, with a decision that does him credit, refused Grogan permission to land: the letter is said to have been conveyed by Captain Sartorius, and its purport was understood, on board, to be a request for passports for America. We should have supposed that he had received too many checks before, for his presumption in addressing letters to the British Government, ever to have hazarded that experiment again; but all reproofs are thrown away upon his callous heart; – not that we should object to his humbly addressing the British throne for mercy, if he has anything to urge in extenuation of his crimes; but the time has not yet come; a momentary gleam of resolution on the part of his own Government, indicated by the imprisonment of Labédoyère, and others, led us to hope that his trial might have been safely entrusted to those to whom it primarily, and of natural right, belongs; but, though this hope may have proved transitory, he is not, therefore, above the criminal justice of other countries, where established law, and a regular execution of it, prevails.

‘The first procedure, we trust, will be a special commission, or the appointment of a court martial, to try him for the murder of Captain Wright. It is nonsense to say, as some have, that courts martial are instituted only to try offences committed by soldiers of the country to which they belong: it was an American court martial that tried and shot Major André as a spy; and Buonaparte himself appointed commissions of all kinds, and in all countries, to try offences committed against himself.’

The same paper says: ‘As soon as an august personage was informed of the capture of Buonaparte, he communicated this important intelligence to a prince of his family – “The ancient fable is at length realised: the Chimera is in the power of Bellerophon, and will not this time escape again.”

‘[Every reader knows that the Chimera was a terrible monster that vomited fire.]’

Rowlandson gives us (July 28, 1815) ‘Boney’s Trial, Sentence and Dying Speech, or Europe’s injuries revenged.’ Boney is in the felon’s dock, backed up by his old friend the Devil. His indictment sets forth thus: ‘Napolean Boneparte, The first and last, by the wrath of Heaven, Ex Emperor of Jacobins and Head Runner of Runaways, stands indicted 1st for the murder of Captain Wright, in the Temple at Paris. 2nd for the murder of the Duke d’Enghien, Pichegru and Georges. 3rd for the murder of Palm, Hofer, &c. &c. 4th for the murder of the 12 inhabitants of Moscow. 5th for innumerable Robberies committed on all Nations in Christendom, and elsewhere. 6th for bigamy, and lastly for returning from Transportation, and setting the World in an uproar.’ Blücher presides, assisted by all the European sovereigns, and gives sentence thus: ‘You, Nap Boneparte, being found guilty of all these crimes, it is fell to my lot to pronounce sentence of Death upon you. You are to be hung by the neck for one hour, till you are Dead, dead, dead, and your body to be chained to a mill stone, and sunk in the sea at Torbay.’

Napoleon, terrified at this sentence, weepingly implores, ‘Oh Cruel Blucher! Oh Cruel Wellington! it is you that have brought me to this end. Oh, magnanimous Emperors, Kings and Princes! intercede for me, and spare my life, and give me time to atone for all my sins. My Son, Napoleon the Second, will reward you for mercy shewn me.’

On July 26 orders came for the ‘Bellerophon’ to go to Plymouth; which being reached, two frigates, the ‘Liffey’ and ‘Eurotas,’ were anchored, one on either side of her, and kept strict guard over her. No boat from the shore was allowed to come within a cable’s length of her, and ships’ boats continually rowing around kept that space clear.

The following description is by an eye-witness⁵⁸: —

 
There is nothing so dull as mere fact, you’ll admit,
While you read my detail, unenlivened by wit.
My friends will believe, though they’re told it in rhyme,
That I thought to return in a far shorter time.
When at once we’re resolv’d, by half past on the move,
And by two, but a trio, we reach Mutton Cove;
When approaching the quay, such a rabble and rout,
That we ask ‘My good friend, what is all this about?’
‘They are rowing a race, and some boats are come in,
While these people are waiting till t’ others begin.’
Well aware of our folly, with risible lip,
The boatman we told to make haste to the ship;
On the colours of fish,⁵⁹ here by hampers-full landing,
We gaze for amusement, while still we’re kept standing;
At length to the Admiral’s stairs we have got,
See his party on board, and hear tunes from his yacht.
The day is delightful, the gale just enough
For the sea to look lively without being rough.
With those first at the ship, our sight costs the dearer,
As we’ve longer to wait, and not, in the end, nearer;
For by land, and by water, so different the case is,
’Twas long before we were jam’d into our places;
But on further advice we’ll at present be dumb,
For half the spectators you know, are now come:
In one boat, a bevy, all sarcenet and veil,
In the next some good fellows while toping their ale.
‘Avast! here’s the guard boat.’ ‘Aye here it comes smack.’
And the ladies cry ‘Captain they’ll drive us all back.’
Then some bully our men, with ‘Skull out there, skull out,’
And others check these with ‘Mind what you’re about.’
Here’s a crazy old boat, laded dry by a shoe,
There, a gay painted barge is forced on our view;
In this, while Don Solus is jeered by the mob,
‘See that empty boat, turn it out.’ ‘Here’s a fine job.’
Cries one, of some dozens squeezed into the next,
‘I’ve left the pork pie, Oh dear I’m so vex’d.’
In the long boat, that shews us profusion of oar,
From the Captain bursts forth, a most terrible roar
At his men, but the anger about who, or what,
Though they still remember, we soon had forgot.
Here infants were crying, mothers scolding downright,
While the next party laughs at some comical sight.
Now watches and spy-glasses make their appearance,
And Impatience, that vixen, begins interference;
To beguile her, through portholes we eagerly stare,
For the nobles on deck are all taking the air.
‘Hey dey what a bustle!’ then ‘All safe, all safe.’
The crowd is return’d to its chatter and laugh.
‘Pray what was the matter?’ ‘From that boat, near the ship,
A woman fell over, and so got a dip.’
But a hum of applause, yes, his triumph is full,
Yet this hum of applause has betrayed our John Bull,
‘What hum of applause? come I prithee be brief:’
Why John was delighted to see them ship beef.
With a smile ’tis observed by the Briton polite,
How the glee of the crowd was improv’d, by the sight,
For the rough, honest tar, had declared from his heart,
That he thought this a sight that would beat Bonaparte.
Some, again, with composure, predict peace and war,
Others look at the great folks, and fancy a star;
But we, much fatigued, six o’clock now approaching,
And on our good nature we thought them encroaching,
When boats are made bridges, nay, tempted to think,
That through some of these freedoms, not strange we should sink.
But here I must mention, when all was most merry,
As here is each size, from the long boat to wherry,
When the crowd should disperse, I was fearful, I own,
Lest your small boats, by barges, should then be run down.
But a truce with our hopes, our predictions and fears,
For now, yes at last, our grand object appears;
And now every eye to the ship is directed,
Though to see Bonaparte, I no longer expected;
For between us what number of men! and aghast
We stood, as still thicker and thicker the mast. [? mass]
But now see Napoleon, who seems in his figure,
What we call mediocre, nor smaller, nor bigger;
For in spite of our fears, how it was, I can’t tell,
What our distance allowed of, we saw very well.
But in this we’re full right, for now, hurry scurry,
Boat rows against boat, with the madness of fury;
The show was all over, but time was outstaid
By some, and by others, attempts were still made
To get round the ship, in hopes Bonaparte might
At some place yet be seen, thus to perfect their sight.
 

This doggerel helps us to realise the intense desire of the British public to get at least a glimpse at Boney, that great bugbear who for so many years had been so great a terror to them, and whose existence everyone, from the highest to the lowest, had acutely felt in that tenderest place of our social economy – the breeches pocket. They all but carried out the threat, made twelve years previously, of putting him in Pidcock’s Menagerie, vide the following extracts from a contemporary pamphlet⁶⁰: —

‘The desire of all ranks to see him was excessive; the guardboats were unable to prevent them from closing the ship, and it was amusement on board to look at the boats contending for places. Napoleon generally walked the quarterdeck about eleven in the forenoon, and half past six in the afternoon. He ate but two meals in the day, both alike, meat of every description, different wines, coffee, fruit, &c. Immediately after each meal he rose first, and the others followed; he then either went on the quarterdeck or in the after-cabin to study. The comedy of The Poor Gentleman⁶¹ was performed before him; he was much pleased at it; it went off very well; the scenery was good, but somewhat better dresses were wanted for the female midshipmen.⁶²

‘The immense number of persons who daily flock from all parts of the country to take a view of the person of Napoleon is incalculable. He generally gratified the public curiosity by making his appearance every afternoon for two hours.

‘Upwards of one thousand boats were from morning to night round the Bellerophon. The seamen of the Bellerophon adopted a curious mode to give an account to the curious spectators in the boats of the movements of Napoleon. They wrote in chalk, on a board, which they exhibited, a short account of his different occupations – “At breakfast” – “In the cabin with Captain Maitland” – “Writing with his officers” – “Going to dinner” – “Coming upon deck,” &c.’

Las Cases says: ‘It was known that he always appeared on deck towards five o’clock. A short time before this hour, all the boats collected alongside of each other; there were thousands; and so closely were they connected, that the water could no longer be seen between them. They looked more like a multitude assembled in a public square than anything else. When the Emperor came out, the noise and gestures of so many people presented a most striking spectacle; it was, at the same time, very easy to perceive that nothing hostile was meant, and that, if curiosity had brought them, they felt interested on going away. We could even see that the latter sentiment continued to increase; at first, people merely looked toward the ship, they ended by saluting; some remained uncovered, and, occasionally, went so far as to cheer. Even our symbols began to appear amongst them. Several individuals of both sexes came decorated with red carnations.’

Napoleon knew that St. Helena had been fixed upon as the place of his future residence, and did not at all relish the idea; but it was not officially announced to him until July 30 or 31, when Lord Keith went on board the ‘Bellerophon’ and presented him with the following despatch: —

‘Communication made by Lord Keith, in the name of the English Ministers

‘As it may, perhaps, be convenient for General Buonaparte to learn, without further delay, the intentions of the British Government with regard to him, your Lordship will communicate the following information.

‘It would be inconsistent with our duty towards our country and the Allies of his Majesty, if General Buonaparte possessed the means of again disturbing the repose of Europe. It is on this account, that it becomes absolutely necessary he should be restrained in his personal liberty, so far as this is required by the foregoing important object.

‘The island of St. Helena has been chosen as his future residence; its climate is healthy, and its local position will allow of his being treated with more indulgence than could be admitted in any other spot, owing to the indispensable precautions which it would be necessary to employ for the security of his person.

‘General Buonaparte is allowed to select amongst those persons who accompanied him to England (with the exception of Generals Savary and Lallemand) three officers, who, together with his surgeon, will have permission to accompany him to St. Helena; these individuals will not be allowed to quit the island without the sanction of the British Government.

‘Rear Admiral Sir George Cockburn, who is named Commander in Chief at the Cape of Good Hope, and seas adjacent, will convey General Buonaparte and his suite to St. Helena; and he will receive detailed instructions relative to the execution of this service.

‘Sir G. Cockburn will, most probably, be ready to sail in a few days; for which reason, it is desirable that General Buonaparte should make choice of the persons who are to accompany him, without delay.’

Of this interview Las Cases says: ‘I was not called before the Emperor. The bearers of his sentence spoke and understood French; they were admitted alone. I have since heard that he objected, and protested, with no less energy than logic, against the violence exercised on his person. “He was the guest of England,” said Napoleon, “and not its prisoner; he came of his own accord to place himself under the protection of its laws; the most sacred rights of hospitality were violated in his person; he would never submit voluntarily to the outrage they were preparing for him: violence alone should oblige him to do so,” &c.’