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THE LAST DAYS OF NAPOLEON ON ST. HELENA
Story and Scenario.
Direction.
Exterior views shot on St. Helena.
Cast
June 1815. After Waterloo, all was lost for Napoleon.
Renounced by those who should have defended him to the end,
the former master of Europe decided to abdicate.
I didn't return from Elba so Paris would be inundated with blood.
While the cannon sounded at St. Denis and the enemy was at the gates of Paris,
Louis XVIII took possession of the throne of France.
Long live the King!
December 7, 1815. At 9:00 a.m., on the Place de la Observatoire,
Ney, the hero of heroes, fell as a platoon commander.
Long live the Emperor! Straight to the heart!
After the exile to Elba and the terrible blow of Waterloo,
the Emperor quickly aged.
Fat, heavy, and extremely agitated, his bilious complexion
betrayed the liver condition that would ultimately kill him.
Off of Rochefort, the captain of the English cruiser Bellerophon
received the following letter from Las Cases:
Royal Highness: After the actions that have divided my country,
and drawn the enmity of the greatest powers in Europe,
I end my political career.
Like Themistocles I come to sit at the hearth of the English people.
I put myself under the protection of their King,
and I proclaim His Royal Highness the most powerful,
the most constant, and the most glorious of my friends. Napoleon.
The Emperor!
Calling to the crowds,
the Bellopheron had revived their curiosity.
Englishmen and women came from all parts of the kingdom,
pressing on the dock to see the Emperor.
I've come to put myself under the protection of your King and your laws.
I've got orders from the government to receive
and take your retinue into England.
I agree to spend my life in your country as a peaceful citizen.
The ship doctor, Dr. O'Meara.
All the same, such news had arrived that worried Napoleon's entourage.
In London, The Gazette proclaims the punishment of the criminal.
Some speak of the internment of the Emperor.
Others speak of the deliverance of France.
The spectacle of a serene Napoleon shines.
Kings and ministers hold counsel. None of them has the courage
to propose the measure that would redeem them before Europe and History.
In Paris.
A morning in July on the seas off of England.
We can see the English coast, sir.
I'm in a hurry to disembark and find myself in my native country.
A letter from the British government had arrived.
It would be incompatible with our duties
toward the country and allies of His Majesty,
should we leave to General Bonaparte
the means to again trouble the peace of Europe.
It is necessary that he be restrained in his personal liberty.
Do you still think of buying your things in London, Madame Bertrand?
Do you think it will be permitted to wear our uniforms in England?
What do you think, Bertrand?
Baron Las Cases confirms we won't be allowed to wear our uniforms in London.
We aren't in London yet, my dear Gourgaud.
I bring to General Bonaparte the answer of the British government.
Gentlemen, hand over your swords.
General Bonaparte, please give me your sword.
I came willingly aboard the Bellerophon.
I am not a prisoner of England, I am her guest.
In the presence of God and men,
I solemnly protest against the violation of my most sacred rights.
The General and his retinue will board
the Northumberland tomorrow, destined for St. Helena.
The soul of Napoleon, wounded to the quick,
mourns less his lost liberty than his scorned grandeur.
Man so cruelly struck acquires a new virtue that gives him all his power: Stoicism.
Will my retinue agree to follow me into exile?
And you, Bertrand?
I'll follow you anywhere, Sire.
Send in Las Cases.
In the presence of God and men,
I solemnly protest the violence exercised against me.
I can only call it a fuss over nothing.
Sire, I beg you to talk to me alone.
Sire, you don't have the right to ask us to follow you to St. Helena.
I'd rather throw myself overboard...
than follow you.
All the time I carried the world on my shoulders,
and such work, after all, doesn't allow you to be tired.
On an extinguished volcano, lost in the ocean,
more than 10,000 leagues from Europe,
and 1000 leagues from Africa, is St. Helena.
The island of death.
From this rock, he wanted to answer the world,
a world that no longer asked him, and his voice was lost in the distance.
Longwood, a little farm on St. Helena, designated to be the home of Napoleon,
was an old barn in disrepair,
exposed to a perpetual wind, humid and populated by rats.
So we end up here, like servants consigned to a miserable room.
I'll do all that I'm allowed to do to ameliorate living in Longwood.
My complaints remain above my character and my dignity.
Either I command, or I say nothing.
A network of intrigues surrounds the tiny house,
while inside petty jealousies take their course
as they once did in the Tuileries.
If Napoleon II comes to rule, your eldest son
will certainly be Grand Marshall of the Court.
Sire, it must be arrival of the new Governor.
You'll write me regularly containing all that is
forbidden him to do, under pain of punishment.
Sentinels will be placed at every 50 paces.
At night, a surveillance cordon will approach the house.
New Order: For his excursions on foot and on horse,
General Bonaparte will strictly keep to the limits marked by the sentinels.
The new Governor must be paying you a visit.
Those in a tomb don't receive visitors.
Then he can have himself announced!
His Majesty is in his bath and isn't receiving.
I must see General Bonaparte.
His Majesty will see you tomorrow at one o'clock.
The audience.
Your refusal to give your word of honor
to not escape forces me to dictate new orders.
If St. Helena were in France,
I'd enjoy living on this frightful rock.
You have full power over my body, but my soul will evade you always.
Know that my soul is as proud, as courageous on this rock
as when I commanded all of Europe.
I'd be given poison if you had the courage. Instead I get this order!
You forget that you're speaking to the Governor of this territory.
I can only recognize you as my jailer.
General Bonaparte is forbidden to pass beyond this point.
Hudson Lowe had transformed the island into a genuine prison.
Wellington will later say that he lacked both education and judgment.
He was a fool.
The seriousness of his duties making him a zealot,
his superior Lord Bathurst sent him definitive instructions.
To His Excellency Lord Holland, London:
Your Excellency, I see I am compelled, not without emotion,
to inform you of Emperor Napoleon's situation on St. Helena.
Tomorrow the ship leaves for London.
Be careful.
In the House of Lords, opinion was divided.
But emotion was visible on most faces when the President announced:
The Very Honorable Lord Holland has the floor.
Hudson Lowe treats General Bonaparte in a manner unworthy of England.
He compromises the British Empire before history.
The Very Honorable Lord Wellington has the floor.
Long live the conqueror of Waterloo!
I'm of the opinion that we must treat the General with dignity.
He has been our most dangerous enemy, we have defeated him,
but he's a great man.
Newspapers having arrived at St. Helena,
the Governor, furious, decrees new restrictions.
What spy has informed the Government what happens here?
Do as you will, but neither the General nor any one in his retinue
shall correspond with the outside world.
Don't you have any suspects?
The servant of Baron Las Cases, a mulatto, often goes to Jamestown.
Bring me proof and I'll order Las Cases' deportation.
Mama Letitia: Two years without news of you,
of my wife, or my child.
I beg you, find a way to bring me news.
Life is cruel. I can't tell you how much I wish to see you again.
Tell the General I want to speak to him at once.
Must I use force in order to see him?
Call Baron Las Cases!
Baron Las Cases and his son, guilty of having sent letters secretly,
will leave the island on the next ship.
Aren't you ashamed of such an occupation?
You, the Governor?
You forget, General, that a soldier obeys without arguing.
Where have you ever commanded?
I know the names of all English generals that have distinguished themselves.
It is with horror and contempt
that history will utter the name of Hudson Lowe.
One often dressed for dinner and
in a room that smelled of mold,
was set out a Sevres porcelein service
illustrated with the battles of Napoleon.
Why such a long face, Gourgaud?
If you don't control your imagination, you'll go crazy.
Sire, I'm thinking I'm not making enough money to support my mother.
Here we are on a battlefield, and anyone who would leave combat
because he wasn't making enough would be a coward.
How can you say that? I who saved your life at Brienne
in striking down a cossack that threatened you?
I know nothing about it, Gourgaud.
You're a good man, but you'll always be a child.
We've reached the day that it now pleases you to humiliate me.
You certainly find it more pleasing in the Governor's parlor.
That doesn't give you the right to judge my private life, Madame!
Must I be insulted by your inferior?
Madame, you're as quiet as Gourgaud is talkative.
I don't think I'm mistaken in confirming that you don't love me.
Sire, I cannot forget
that you're the cause of my exile in this inhospitable place.
Here, one must please and entertain me.
Do you think I don't have bad moments
when I remember what I was and what I am now?
I'm at your disposal, General Gourgaud.
I'm at your service, Count Montholon.
Why this harangue against the Emperor?
Remain faithful to your Emperor. I'll remain faithful to my country.
You want to fight Montholon?
Am I no longer the sole object of your concerns?
Here I want everyone to be animated with my spirit.
Sire, I beg you.
That you lack respect for me,
is more bitter at Longwood than in Paris.
No one gives more credit to your merit and your talents than I.
But it's best that we separate, Gourgaud.
While the atmosphere around Napoleon thus deteriorated,
Hudson Lowe, driven by his fear of a possible escape,
increased his hateful surveillance.
Are you sure that this bust someone has sent him
doesn't contain some secret message?
The peace of Europe hangs on our vigilance.
This bust will remain here.
A father deprived of the image of his child.
Go and tell the Governor that I demand that bust immediately!
Come along! You're bothering the Emperor.
I'm tired of this life! I'd rather leave.
Like everyone, you forget the Emperor?
You forget that you can stay.
Napoleon celebrated each new year
with as much ceremony as in Paris at the Tuileries.
Marshalls of France, this is the last day of the year
we've passed in captivity.
There are millions of men that cry,
the fatherland sighs,
and glory is in mourning.
Ah Bertrand, to see Paris once more, it's more than I could hope for.
There are days where I want danger.
And there are others when life is hard to bear.
I'm too old. For my son's sake it's best that I remain here.
If I failed, the throne of France would be forever lost to the Bonapartes.
I should have died at Moscow.
My military glory would have been without blemish.
The Emperor now dressed like an island colonist.
And very soon he would neglect himself more and more.
In the final days of his life, he appeared slovenly,
an awkward old man who was losing his mind.
Sire, would you like to take some exercise?
Mount your horse.
I live here as if I were under a weight that weighs me down,
but doesn't break me.
Resignation is the triumph of the soul.
All the same, at this time of his life,
Napoleon attained a moral elevation that allowed him
to defeat the rebellion of his whole being.
From Vienna it is learned with sorrow that Archduchess Marie Louise,
still the legal wife of Napoleon,
expects a child by her chamberlain, Count Neipperg.
It's as if derisory blows rose in flames to engulf me.
This illness is only an excuse to hide a plan of escape.
The Emperor's illness will kill him, it's serious.
Doctor O'Meara is here, Governor.
Wait for my orders in the antechamber, Lt. Nichols.
So you continue to insist that the General is seriously ill.
How can a man who announces he wishes to escape be seriously ill?
It's his fever that makes him speak thus.
Why don't you speak of this delirium in your reports?
I'm a doctor, not a spy, Governor.
You know his escape plan, you're helping him.
I'm obliged to take measures to ensure the peace of Europe.
You'll take Dr. O'Meara directly to Jamestown
without passing through Longwood.
An unexpected tragedy:
After O'Meara's departure, the Emperor,
whose strength decreases every day,
remains without medical care for almost a year.
Around the Emperor, the number of the faithful diminishes every day.
I won't return to Longwood.
All I can do is allow him to see the children,
if that would please him.
What a pitiful creature I've become.
Sire, my wife wants us to leave the island.
Who will take care of me? Who will close my eyes at the end?
Will I die abandoned by everyone on this terrible rock?
Ah Marchand, if this continues,
soon there will be no one left but you and me.
Close the shutters, Marchand.
I don't want the English to see me die.
All the same, in the end he accepted the care of an English doctor.
Give me some light.
The Emperor can no longer endure bright light.
I've examined a man in darkness who, without doubt, is gravely ill.
But I can't say that this patient is definitely General Bonaparte.
Leave me with Montholon.
This is my will:
I wish that my ashes rest on the shores of the Seine,
among the French people I have so loved.
My son must not think to avenge my death,
but profit from it.
All his efforts must be to ultimately reign through peace.
I was forced to subdue Europe by force. Today she must be convinced.
My son must be a man of new ideas,
and of the cause that I've made triumph everywhere:
To unite Europe in indissoluble federative bonds.
Europe marches towards an inevitable transformation...
The kings must see reason.
In Europe there is no longer anything to support hatred among nations.
When did you last see General Bonaparte?
The General is ill. He hasn't gone out in 6 weeks.
Don't you understand that this illness is a farce to mask his escape?
I will have you court-martialed.
Today, do you understand, I shall know the truth!
Have you made any arrangements with him?
Governor, before one o'clock I will have seen the General.
I've got orders to see General Bonaparte,
even if I have to use force.
Desaix! Massena! Let's run to victory. Forward!
It's the end, fetch the Bertrands.
You've shared my exile, you will be faithful to my memory.
You'll do nothing that would damage it.
When I am dead, each of you will have
the sweet consolation of returning to Europe,
and I will join my heroes in the Elysian Fields.
France! Head of the army!
Thus Bonarparte rendered to God
the most powerful breath that ever animated mortal clay.
I forgive him.
He shall be buried with all honors due an English general.
And six stone slabs transported on an artillery platform,
closed the gaping hole of the tomb hollowed out in the valley,
near a spring shaded by two willow trees.
Subtitles by ironhills for KG