act of England, but of Austria) was in itself justified
by obvious political considerations; and that England
would have given good reason of offence to the King
of France, had she complied with Napoleon’s
repeated demands, to be styled and treated as Emperor—if
these things be granted, we do not see how even the
shadow of blame can attach to the much-abused ministers,
on whom fortune threw one of the most delicate and
thankless of all offices. His house was, save
one (that of the governor), the best on the island:
from the beginning it was signified that any alterations
or additions, suggested by Napoleon, would be immediately
attended to; and the framework of many apartments
was actually prepared in England, to be sent out and
distributed according to his pleasure. As it was,
Napoleon had for his own immediate personal accommodation,
a suite of rooms, consisting of a saloon, an eating-room,
a library, a billiard-room, a small study, a bedroom,
and a bathroom; and various English gentlemen, accustomed
to all the appliances of modern luxury, who visited
the exile of Longwood, concur in stating that the
accommodations around him appeared to them every way
complete and unobjectionable. He had a good collection
of books, and the means of adding to these as much
as he chose. His suite consisted in all of five
gentlemen and two ladies: the superior French
and Italian domestics about his own person were never
fewer than eleven; and the sum allowed for his domestic
expenditure was L12,000 per annum—the governor
of St. Helena, moreover, having authority to draw
on the treasury for any larger sum, in case he should
consider L12,000 as insufficient. When we consider
that wines, and most other articles heavily taxed
in England, go duty-free to St. Helena, it is really
intolerable to be told that this income was not adequate—nay,
that it was not munificent—for a person
in Napoleon’s situation. It was a larger
income than is allotted to the governor of any English
colony whatever, except the governor-general of India.
It was twice as large as the official income of a
British secretary of state has ever been. We
decline entering at all into the minor charges connected
with this humiliating subject: at least a single
example may serve. One of the loudest complaints
was about the deficiency and inferior quality of wine:
on examination it appeared, that Napoleon’s upper
domestics were allowed each day, per man, a bottle
of claret, costing L6 per dozen (without duty) and
the lowest menial employed at Longwood a bottle of
good Teneriffe wine daily.—That the table
of the fallen Emperor himself was always served in
a style at least answerable to the dignity of a general
officer in the British service—this was
never even denied. Passing from the interior—we
conceive that we cannot do better than quote the language
of one of his casual and impartial visitors, Mr. Ellis.
“There never, perhaps,” (says this gentleman),
“was a prisoner, so much requiring to be watched