The Tragedy of St. Helena | Page 7

unheeded. A body of men with a spark of humane feeling would
have thrown political exigencies to the winds and defied all the powers
of earth and hell to prevent them from at once offering their prisoner a
home in the land of a generous people. What had they to fear from a
man whose political career ended when he gave himself up to the
captain of the _Bellerophon_, and whose health was now shattered by
disease and ill-usage? Had the common people of this nation known all
that was being perpetrated in their name, the Duke of Wellington and
all his myrmidons could not have withstood the revolt against it, and
were such treatment to be meted out to a political prisoner of our day,
the wrath of the nation might break forth in a way that would teach
tyrants a salutary lesson.
But this great man was at the mercy of a lot of little men. They were
too cowardly to shoot him, so they determined on a cunning dastardly
process of slow assassination. The pious bard who sings the praises of
Napoleon's executioners--Wellington and his coadjutors--and whose
"History" was unworthy of the reputations of himself and his publishers,
will have sunk into oblivion when the fiery soul of the "Sultan Kebir"[2]
will seize on the imagination of generations yet unborn, and intoxicate
them with the memory of the deeds that he had done.
Napoleon has said, "In the course of time, nothing will be thought so
fine nor seize the attention so much as the doing of justice to me. I shall
gain ground every day on the minds of the people. My name will
become the star of their rights, it will be the expression of their
regrets."[3] This statement is as prophetic as many others, more or less
important, made by Napoleon to one or other of his suite. It is
remarkable how accurately he foretold events and the impressions that
would be formed of himself.
Had the warning given so frequently to Sir Hudson Lowe been
conveyed to his Government, and had they acted upon it, there is little
doubt that a change of climate would have prolonged the Emperor's life.
But in going over those dreary nauseous documents which relate the
tale, one becomes permeated with the belief that the intention was to

torture, if not to kill. Dr. Antommarchi, who succeeded Dr. O'Meara as
medical attendant to the Emperor, confirms all that O'Meara had
conveyed so frequently to the Governor and to the Admiralty. The
Council sent for him to give them information as to the climate of St.
Helena. They express the opinion that at Longwood it is "good."
Antommarchi replies, "Horrible," "Cold," "Hot," "Dry," "Damp,"
"Variation of atmosphere twenty times in a day." "But," said they, "this
had no influence on General Bonaparte's health," and the blunt reply of
Antommarchi is flung at them, "It sent him to his grave." "But," came
the question, "what would have been the consequences of a change of
residence?" "That he would still be living," said Antommarchi. The
dialogue continues, the doctor scoring heavily all the way through. At
length one of the Council becomes offended at his daring frankness,
and blurts forth in "statesmanlike" anger: "What signifies, after all, the
death of General Bonaparte? It rids us of an implacable enemy."
This noble expression of opinion was given three days after George IV.
had deplored the death of Napoleon. It is not of much consequence,
except to confirm the belief of the French that the death-warrant had
been issued. The popular opinion at the time when the Emperor gave
himself up to the British was that had he come in contact with George
IV. the great tragedy would not have happened.
We are not, however, solely dependent on what the two doctors have
said concerning the cause of his untimely demise. All those who knew
anything about Longwood, from the common sailor or soldier upwards,
were aware of the baneful nature of its climate. Counts Las Cases,
Montholon, and Bertrand had each represented it to the righteous Sir
Hudson Lowe as being deadly to the health of their Emperor. Discount
their statements as you will, the conviction forces itself upon you that
their contentions are in the main, if not wholly, reliable.
But the climate, trying and severe as it was, cannot be entirely blamed
for killing him, though it did the best part of it. Admiral Sir George
Cockburn, while he acted as Governor, seems to have caused
occasional trouble to the French by the unnecessary restrictions put
upon them, but by the accounts given he was not unkindly disposed. He

showed real anxiety to make the position as agreeable to them as he
could, and no doubt used his judgment instead of carrying