would be difficult to administer, but he had the means
of doing it with the sword. The sanctuary of
his abode should not be violated, and the troops should
not enter his house but by trampling on his corpse.
He then alluded to an invitation sent to him by Sir
Hudson Lows to meet Lady Loudon at his house, and
said there could not be an act of more refined cruelty
than inviting him to his table by the title of “General,”
to make him an object of ridicule or amusement to
his guests. What right had he to call him “General”
Bonaparte? He would not be deprived of his dignity
by him, nor by any one in the world. He certainly
should have condescended to visit Lady Loudon had
she been within his limits, as he did not stand upon
strict etiquette with a woman, but he should have deemed
that he was conferring an honour upon her. He
would not consider himself a prisoner of war, but
was placed in his present position by the most horrible
breach of trust. After a few more words he dismissed
the Governor without once more alluding to the house
which was the object of the visit. The fate of
this unfortunate house may be mentioned here.
It was erected after a great many disputes, but was
unfortunately surrounded by a sunk fence and ornamental
railing. This was immediately connected in Napoleon’s
mind with the idea of a fortification; it was impossible
to remove the impression that the ditch and palisade
were intended to secure his person. As soon as
the objection was made known, Sir Hudson Lowe ordered
the ground to be levelled and the rails taken away.
But before this was quite completed Napoleon’s
health was too much destroyed to permit his removal,
and the house was never occupied.
Napoleon seems to have felt that he had been too violent
in his conduct. He admitted, when at table with
his suite a few days after, that he had behaved very
ill, and that in any other situation he should blush
for what he had done. “I could have wished,
for his sake,” he said, “to see him evince
a little anger, or pull the door violently after him
when he went away.” These few words let
us into a good deal of Napoleon’s character:
he liked to intimidate, but his vehement language was
received with a calmness and resolute forbearance
to which he was quite unaccustomed, and he consequently
grew more angry as his anger was less regarded.
The specimens here given of the disputes with Sir
Hudson Lowe may probably suffice: a great many
more are furnished by Las Cases, O’Meara, and
other partisans of Napoleon, and even they always make
him the aggressor. Napoleon himself in his cooler
moments seemed to admit this; after the most violent
quarrel with the Governor, that of the 18th of August
1816, which utterly put an end to anything like decent
civility between the parties; he allowed that he had
used the Governor very ill, that he repeatedly and
purposely offended him, and that Sir Hudson Lowe had
not in a single instance shown a want of respect, except
perhaps that he retired too abruptly.