," his
mother, and other members of his family, were not allowed to pass
unless scrutinised and commented upon by this insatiable gaoler.
Letters written to the Ministry and to well-disposed public men
outside it were not forwarded, on the pretext that the title of
Emperor was used. A marble bust of the Emperor's son was brought to
St. Helena by T.M. Radowich, master gunner aboard the ship _Baring_.
It was taken possession of by the authorities, and had been in Lowe's
hands for some days when he intimated to Count Bertrand that, though
it was against the regulations, he would take upon himself to hand
over some presents sent out by Lady Holland and some left by Mr.
Manning. A more embarrassing matter was the handing over of the bust.
The mystery and comic absurdity of some Government officials of that
time, or even of this, is amazing.

Lowe's dull perceptions had been awakened. He realised that he might
be accused of having committed an exceedingly dirty trick. He thinks
it in keeping with the dignity of his high office to become uneasy
about the retention of these articles, especially the statue of the
King of Rome. So with unconscious humour he asks the Count if he
thinks Napoleon would really like to have his son's bust. The Count
replies, "You had better send it this very evening, and not detain it
until to-morrow." Lowe is aggrieved at the coldness of the reply. He
presumably expected Bertrand to gush out torrents of gratitude. But
the French code of real good taste and humane bearing put Sir Hudson
Lowe beneath their contempt. To them he had become indescribable.

To all those who had access to Napoleon, the burning love he had for
his son was well known, and in one of those outbursts of passionate
anguish he declares to the Countess of Montholon that it was for him
alone that he returned from Elba, and if he still formed some
expectations in exile, they were for him also. He declares that he is
the source of his greatest anguish, and that every day he costs him
tears of blood. He imagines to himself the most horrid events, which
he cannot remove from his mind. He sees either the potion or the
empoisoned fruit which is about to terminate the days of the young
innocent by the most cruel sufferings, and then, after this pouring
out of the innermost soul, he pleads with Madame to compassionate his
weakness, and asks her to console him.

This learned warrior-statesman was also a poet, and but for the
solitude of