To beg the life of his brave adversary would have been such an obvious

act of generosity on the part of the Duke of Wellington that we maybe

pardoned for examining his reasons for not interfering. First, the Duke

seems to have laid weight on the fact that if Ney had believed the

capitulation had covered him he would not have hidden. Now, even before

Ney knew of his exception from the amnesty, to appear in Paris would have

been a foolish piece of bravado. Further, the Royalist reaction was in

full vigour, and when the Royalist mobs, with the connivance of the

authorities, were murdering Marshal Brune and attacking any prominent

adherents of Napoleon, it was hardly the time for Ney to travel in full

pomp. It cannot be said that, apart from the capitulation, the Duke had

no responsibility. Generally a Government executing a prisoner, may,

with some force, if rather brutally, urge that the fact of their being

able to try and execute him in itself shows their authority to do so.

The Bourbons could not even use this argument. If the Allies had

evacuated France Louis le Desiree would have ordered his carriage and

have been at the frontier before they had reached it. If Frenchmen

actually fired the shots which killed Ney, the Allies at least shared the

responsibility with the French Government. Lastly, it would seem that

the Duke would have asked for the life of Ney if the King, clever at such

small artifices, had not purposely affected a temporary coldness to him.

Few men would have been so deterred from asking for the life of a dog.

The fact is, the Duke of Wellington was a great general, he was a

single-hearted and patriotic statesman, he had a thousand virtues, but

he was never generous. It cannot be said that he simply shared the

feelings of his army, for there was preparation among some of his

officers to enable Ney to escape, and Ney had to be guarded by men of

good position disguised in the uniform of privates. Ney had written to

his wife when he joined Napoleon, thinking of the little vexations the

Royalists loved to inflict on the men who had conquered the Continent.

"You will no longer weep when you leave the Tuileries." The unfortunate

lady wept now as she vainly sought some mercy for her husband. Arrested

on the 5th of August, sentenced on the 6th of December, Ney was shot on

the 7th of December, and the very manner of his execution shows that, in

taking his life there was much more of revenge than of justice.

If Ney were to be shot, it is obvious that it should have been as a high

act of justice. If neither the rank nor the services of the criminal

were to save him, his death could not be too formal, too solemn, too

public. Even an ordinary military execution is always carried out with

grave and striking forms: there is a grand parade of the troops, that all

may see with their own eyes the last act of the law. After the execution

the troops defile past the body, that all may see the criminal actually

dead: There was nothing of all this in the execution of Ney. A few

chance passers, in the early morning of the 7th of December 1815, saw a

small body of troops waiting by the wall of the garden of the Luxemburg.

A fiacre drove up, out of which got Marshal Ney in plain clothes, himself

surprised by the everyday aspect of the place. Then, when the officer of

the firing party (for such the spectators now knew it to be) saw whom it

was he was to fire on, he became, it is said, perfectly petrified; and a

peer, one of the judges of Ney, the Duke de la Force, took his place.

Ney fell at the first volley with six balls in his breast, three in the

head and neck, and one in the arm, and in a quarter of an hour the body

was removed; "plain Michel Ney" as he had said to the secretary

enunciating his title in reading his sentence, "plain Michel Ney, soon to

be a little dust."

The Communists caught red-handed in the streets of Paris in 1870 died

with hardly less formality than was observed at the death-scene of the

Prince of the Moskowa and Duke of Elchingen, and the truth then became

plain. The Bourbons could not, dared not, attempt to carry out the

sentence of the law with the forms of the law. The Government did not

venture to let the troops or the people face the Marshal. The forms of

the law could not be carried out, the demands of revenge could be. And

if this be thought any exaggeration, the proof of the ill effects of this

murder, for its form makes it difficult to call it anything else, is

ready to our hands. It was impossible to get the public to believe that

Ney had really been killed in this manner, and nearly to this day we have

had fresh stories recurring of the real Ney being discovered in America.

The deed, however, had really been done. The Marshals now knew that when

the Princes fled they themselves must remain to die for the Royal cause;

and Louis had at last succeeded in preventing his return to his kingdom

amongst the baggage waggons of the Allies from being considered as a mere

subject for jeers. One detail of the execution of Ney, however, we are

told nothing of: we do not know if his widow, like Madame Labedoyere, had

to pay three francs a head to the soldiers of the firing party which shot

her husband. Whatever were the faults of the Bourbons, they at least

carried out their executions economically.

The statesmen of France, distinguished as they were, certainly did not

rise to a level with the situation either in 1814 or in 1815. In 1814,

it is true, they were almost stunned by the crash of the Empire, and

little as they foresaw the restoration of the Bourbons, still less could

they have anticipated the extraordinary follies which were to be

perpetrated. In 1815 there was less excuse for their helplessness, and,

overawed as they were by the mass of foes which was pouring on them to

complete the disaster of Waterloo, still it is disappointing to find that

there was no one to seize the helm of power, and, confronting the Allies,

to stipulate proper terms for France, and for the brave men who had

fought for her. The Steady Davoust was there with his 100,000 men to add

weight to their language, and the total helplessness of the older line of

the Bourbons had been too evidently displayed to make their return a

certainty, so that there is no reason to doubt that a firm-hearted

patriot might have saved France from much of the degradation and loss

inflicted on her when once the Allies had again got her at their mercy.

At-the least the Bourbons might have been deprived of the revenge they

sought for in taking some of the best blood of France. Better for Ney

and his comrades to have fallen in a last struggle before Paris than to

be shot by Frenchmen emboldened by the presence of foreign troops.

Talleyrand, the most prominent figure among the statesmen, was away. His

absence at Vienna during the first Restoration was undoubtedly the cause

of many of the errors then committed. His ability as displayed under

Napoleon has been much exaggerated, for, as the Duke of Wellington said,

it was easy enough to be Foreign Minister to a Government in military

possession of Europe, but at least he was above the petty trivialities

and absurdities of the Bourbon' Court. On the receipt of the news of the

landing of Napoleon he really seems to have believed that the enterprise

would immediately end in disaster, and he pressed on the outlawing of the

man who had overwhelmed him with riches, and who had, at the worst, left

him when in disgrace in quiet possession of all his ill-gotten wealth.

But, as the power of Napoleon became more and more displayed, as perhaps

Talleyrand found that the Austrians were not quite so firm as they wished

to be considered, and as he foresaw the possible chances of the Orleans

family, he became rather lukewarm in his attention to the King, to whom

he had recently been bewailing the hardships of his separation from his

loved monarch. He suddenly found that, after a Congress, the first duty

of a diplomatist was to look after his liver, and Carlsbad offered an

agreeable retreat where he could wait till he might congratulate the

winner in the struggle.

Louis deeply resented this conduct of his Foreign Minister, and when

Talleyrand at last joined him with all his doubts resolved, the King took

the first opportunity of dismissing him, leaving the calm Talleyrand for

once stuttering with rage. Louis soon, however, found that he was not

the free agent he believed. The Allies did not want to have to again

replace their puppet on the throne, and they looked on Talleyrand and

Fouche as the two necessary men. Talleyrand was reinstated immediately,

and remained for some time at the head of the Ministry. He was, however,

not the man for Parliamentary Government, being too careless in business,

and trying to gain his ends more by clever tricks than straightforward

measures. As for the state into which he let the Government fall, it was

happily characterised by M. Beugnot. "Until now," said he, "we have

only known three sorts of governments--the Monarchical, the Aristocratic,

and the Republican. Now we have invented a new one, which has never been

heard of before,--Paternal Anarchy."

In September 1815 the elections to the Chamber were bringing in deputies

more Royalist than the King, and Talleyrand sought to gain popularity by

throwing over Fouche. To his horror it appeared that, well contented

with this step, the deputies next asked when the former Bishop was to be

dismissed. Taking advantage of what Talleyrand conceived to be a happy

way of eliciting a strong expression of royal support by threatening to

resign, the King replaced him by the Duc de Richelieu. It was well to

cut jokes at the Duke and say that he was the man in France who knew most

of the Crimea (the Duke had been long in the Russian service, with the

approval of Napoleon), but Talleyrand was overwhelmed. He received the

same office at Court which he had held under Napoleon, Grand Chamberlain,

and afterwards remained a sardonic spectator of events, a not unimposing

figure attending at the Court ceremonials and at the heavy dinners of the

King, and probably lending a helping hand in 1830 to oust Charles X.

from the throne. The Monarchy of July sent him as Ambassador to England,

where he mixed in local politics, for example, plotting against Lord

Palmerston, whose brusque manners he disliked; and in 1838 he ended his

strange life with some dignity, having, as one of his eulogists puts it,

been faithful to every Government he had served as long as it was

possible to save them.

With the darker side of Talleyrand's character we have nothing to do

here; it is sufficient for our purposes to say that the part the leading

statesman of France took during the Cent Tours was simply nil. In 1814,

he had let the reins slip through his hands; 1815 he could only follow

the King, who even refused to adopt his advice as to the proper way in

which to return to France, and though he once more became Chief Minister,

Talleyrand, like Louis XVIII., owed his restoration in 1815 solely to the

Allies.

The Comte d'Artois, the brother of the King, and later King himself as

Charles X., was sent to Lyons, to which place the Duc d'Orleans followed

him, and where the two Princes met Marshal Macdonald. The Marshal did

all that man could do to keep the soldiers true to the Bourbons, but he

had to advise the Princes to return to Paris, and he himself had to fly

for his life when he attempted to stop Napoleon in person. The Duc

d'Orleans was then sent to the north to hold Lille, where the King

intended to take refuge, and the Comte d'Artois remained with the Court.

The Court was very badly off for money, the King, and Clarke, Duke of

Feltre, the War Minister, were the only happy possessors of carriages.

They passed their time, as the Abbe Louis once bitterly remarked, in

saying foolish things till they had a chance of doing them.

The Comte d'Artois, who, probably wisely, certainly cautiously, had

refused to go with De Vitrolles to stir up the south until he had placed

the King in safety, had ended by going to Ghent too, while the Duc de

Berry was at Alost, close by, with a tiny army composed of the remains of

the Maison du Roi, of which the most was made in reports. The Duc

d'Orleans, always an object of suspicion to the King, had left France

with the Royal party, but had refused to stay in Belgium, as he alleged

that it was an enemy's country. He crossed to England where he remained,

greatly adding to the anxiety of Louis by refusing to join him.

The end of these Princes is well known. Louis died in 1824, leaving his

throne to his brother; but Charles only held it till 1830, when after the

rising called "the three glorious days of July," he was civilly escorted

from France, and took shelter in England. The Due Angouleme died without

issue. The Duc de Berry was assassinated in 1820, but his widow gave

birth to a posthumous son the Duc de Bordeaux, or, to fervid Royalists,

Henri V., though better known to us as the Comte de Chambord, who died in

1883 without issue, thus ending the then eldest line of Bourbons, and

transmitting his claims to the Orleans family. On the fall of Charles X.

the Duc d'Orleans became King of the French, but he was unseated by the

Revolution of 1848, and died a refugee in England. As the three Princes

of the House of Conde, the Prince de Conde, his son, the Duc de Bourbon,

and his: grandson, the Due d'Enghien, all died without further male

issue, that noble line is extinct.

When the news of the escape of Napoleon from Elba reached Vienna on the

7th of March 1815, the three heads of the Allies, the Emperors of Austria

and Russia, and the King of Prussia, were still there. Though it was

said that the Congress danced but did not advance, still a great deal of

work had really been done, and the news of Napoleon's landing created a

fresh bond of union between the Allies which stopped all further chances

of disunion, and enabled them to practically complete their work by the

9th of June 1815, though the treaties required cobbling for some years

afterwards.

France, Austria, and England had snatched the greater part of Saxony from

the jaws of Prussia, and Alexander had been forced to leave the King of

Saxony to reign over half of his former subjects, without, as he wished,

sparing him the pain of such a degradation by taking all from him.

Russia had to be contented with a large increase of her Polish dominions,

getting most of the Grand-Duchy of Westphalia. Austria had, probably

unwisely, withdrawn from her former outlying provinces in Swabia and the

Netherlands, which had before the Revolution made her necessarily the

guardian of Europe against France, preferring to take her gains in Italy,

gains which she has gradually lost in our days; while Prussia, by

accepting the Rhine provinces, completely stepped into the former post of

Austria. Indeed, from the way in which Prussia was, after 1815, as it

were, scattered across Germany, it was evident that her fate must be.

either to be crushed by France, or else, by annexing the states enclosed

in her dominions, to become the predominating power in Germany. It was

impossible for her to remain as she was left.

The Allies tightly bound France. They had no desire to have again to

march on Paris to restore Louis to the subjects who had such unfortunate

objections to being subjected to that desirable monarch. By the second

Treaty of Paris, on the 20th of November 1815, France was to be occupied

by an Allied force, in military positions on the frontier, not to exceed

150,000 men, to be taken from all the Allied armies, under a commander

who was eventually the Duke of Wellington. Originally the occupation.

was not to exceed five years, but in February 1817 the army was reduced

by 30,000 men, one-fifth of each contingent; and by the Treaty of

Aix-la-Chapelle of 9th October 1818, France was to-be evacuated by the

30th of November 1818.

The three monarchs were probably not sorry to get the Congress over on

any terms. Alexander had had his fill of displaying himself in the

salons in his favourite part of an Agamemnon generous towards Troy, and

he had worn out his first popularity. He was stung by finding some of

his favourite plans boldly opposed by Talleyrand and by Metternich, and,

indeed, was anxious to meet the last in open combat. Francis had

required all the firmness of what he called his Bohemian head to resist

the threats, entreaties, and cajoleries employed to get him to acquiesce

in the dethronement of the King of Saxony, and the wiping out of the

Saxon nationality by the very alliance which professed to fight only for

the rights of nations and of their lawful sovereigns.

All three monarchs had again the satisfaction of entering Paris, but

without enjoying the full glories of 1814. "Our friends, the enemies"

were not so popular then in France, and the spoliation of the Louvre was

not pleasant even to the Royalists. The foreign monarchs soon returned

to their own drained and impoverished States.

The Emperor Francis had afterwards a quiet reign to his death in 1835,

having only to assist his Minister in snuffing out the occasional flashes

of a love of freedom in Germany.

The King of Prussia returned in a triumph well won by his sturdy

subjects, and, in the light of his new honours, the Countess Von Voss

tells us he was really handsome. He was now at leisure to resume the

discussions on uniform, and the work of fastening and unfastening the

numerous buttons of his pantaloons, in which he had been so roughly

interrupted by Jena. The first institution of the Zollverein, or

commercial union with several States, gradually extended, was a measure

which did much for the unification of Germany. With his brother

sovereigns he revisited Paris at the end of the military occupation in

1818, remaining there longer than the others, "because," said the

Parisians, "he had discovered an actor at a small theatre who achieved

the feat of making him laugh." He died in 1840. His Queen--heartbroken,

it was said--had died in 1810.

Alexander was still brimming over with the best and most benevolent

intentions towards every one. The world was to be free, happy, and

religious; but he had rather vague ideas as to how his plans were to be

carried out. Thus it is characteristic that when his successor desired

to have a solemn coronation as King of Poland it was found that Alexander

had not foreseen the difficulties which were met with in trying to

arrange for the coronation of a Sovereign of the Greek Church as King of

a Roman Catholic State. The much-dreaded but very misty Holy Alliance

was one of the few fruits of Alexander's visions. His mind is described

as passing through a regular series of stages with each influence under

which he acted. He ended his life, tired out, disillusioned, "deceived

in everything, weighed down with regret;" obliged to crush the very hopes

of his people he had encouraged, dying in 1825 at Taganrog, leaving his

new Polish Kingdom to be wiped out by-his successors.

The minor sovereigns require little mention. They retained any titles

they had received from Napoleon, while they exulted, at being free from

his heavy hand and sharp superintendence. Each got a share, small or

great, of the spoil except the poor King of Denmark, who, being assured

by Alexander on his departure that he carried away all hearts, answered,

"Yes, but not any souls."

The reintroduction of much that was bad in the old system (one country

even going so far as to re-establish torture), the steady attack on

liberty and on all liberal ideas, Wurtemberg being practically the only

State which grumbled at the tightening of the reins so dear to

Metternich,--all formed a fitting commentary on the proclamations by

which the Sovereigns had hounded on their people against the man they

represented as the one obstacle to the freedom and peace of Europe.

In gloom and disenchantment the nations sat down to lick their wounds:

The contempt shown by the monarchs for everything but the right of

conquest, the manner in which they treated the lands won from Napoleon as

a gigantic "pool" which was to be shared amongst them, so many souls to

each; their total failure to fulfil their promises to their subjects of

granting liberty,--all these slowly bore their fruits in after years, and

their effects are not even yet exhausted. The right of a sovereign to

hold his lands was now, by the public law of Europe, to be decided by his

strength, The rights of the people were treated as not existing. Truly,

as our most gifted poetess has sung--

"The Kings crept out--the peoples sat at home,

And finding the long invocated peace

(A pall embroidered with worn images

Of rights divine) too scant to cover doom

Such as they suffered, nursed the corn that grew

Rankly to bitter bread, on Waterloo."

CHAPTER XIII

--[This chapter; by the editor of the 1836 edition, is based upon

the 'Memorial', and O'Meara's and Antommarchi's works.]--

1815-1821.

Voyage to St. Helena--Personal traits of the Emperor--Arrival at

James Town--Napoleon's temporary residence at The Briars--Removal to

Longwood--The daily routine there-The Campaign of Italy--The arrival

of Sir Hudson Lowe--Unpleasant relations between the Emperor and the

new Governor--Visitors at St. Helena--Captain Basil Hall's interview

with Napoleon--Anecdotes of the Emperor--Departure of Las Cases and

O'Meara--Arrivals from Europe--Physical habits of the Emperor--Dr.

Antommarchi--The Emperor's toilet--Creation of a new bishopric--

The Emperor's energy with the spade--His increasing illness--

Last days of Napoleon--His Death--Lying in state--Military funeral--

Marchand's account of the Emperor's last moments--Napoleon's last

bequests--The Watch of Rivoli.

The closing scenes in the life of the great Emperor only now remain to be

briefly touched upon. In a previous chapter we have narrated the

surrender of Napoleon, his voyage to England, and his transference from

the Bellerophon to the Northumberland. The latter vessel was in great

confusion from the short notice at which she had sailed, and for the two

first days the crew was employed in restoring order. The space abaft the

mizenmast contained a dining-room about ten feet broad, and extending the

whole width of the ship, a saloon, and two cabins. The Emperor occupied

the cabin on the left; in which his camp-bedstead had been put up; that

on the right was appropriated to the Admiral. It was peremptorily

enjoined that the saloon should be in common. The form of the

dining-table resembled that of the dining-room. Napoleon sat with his

back to the saloon; on his left sat Madame Bertrand, and on his right

the Admiral, who, with Madame de Montholon, filled up one side of the

table. Next that lady, but at the end of the table, was Captain Ross,

who commanded the ship, and at the opposite end M. de Montholon; Madame

Bertrand, and the Admiral's secretary. The side of the table facing the

Emperor was occupied by the Grand-Marshal, the Colonel of the field

Regiment, Las Cases, and Gourgaud. The Admiral invited one or two of

the officers to dinner every day, and the band of the 53d, newly-formed,

played during dinner-time.

On the 10th of August the Northumberland cleared the Channel, and lost

sight of land. The course of the ship was shaped to cross the Bay of

Biscay and double Cape Finisterre. The wind was fair, though light, and

the heat excessive. Napoleon breakfasted in his own cabin at irregular

hours. He sent for one of his attendants every morning to know the

distance run, the state of the wind, and other particulars connected with

their progress. He read a great deal, dressed towards four o'clock, and

then came into the public saloon; here he played at chess with one of the

party; at five o'clock the Admiral announced that dinner was on the

table. It is well known that Napoleon was scarcely ever more than

fifteen minutes at dinner; here the two courses alone took up nearly an

hour and a half. This was a serious annoyance to him, though his

features and manner always evinced perfect equanimity. Neither the new

system of cookery nor the quality of the dishes ever met with his

censure. He was waited on by two valets, who stood behind his chair.

At first the Admiral was in the habit of offering several dishes to the

Emperor, but the acknowledgment of the latter was expressed so coldly

that the practice was given up. The Admiral thenceforth only pointed out

to the servants what was preferable. Napoleon was generally silent, as

if unacquainted with the language, though it was French. If he spoke, it

was to ask some technical or scientific question, or to address a few

words to those whom the Admiral occasionally asked to dinner.

The Emperor rose immediately after coffee had been handed round, and went

on deck, followed by the Grand-Marshal and Las Cases. This disconcerted

Admiral Cockburn, who expressed his surprise to his officers; but Madame

Bertrand, whose maternal language was English, replied with spirit, "Do

not forget, sir, that your guest is a man who has governed a large

portion of the world, and that kings once contended for the honour of

being admitted to his table."--"Very true," rejoined the Admiral; and

from that time he did his utmost to comply with Napoleon's habits. He

shortened the time of sitting at table, ordering coffee for Napoleon and

those who accompanied him even before the rest of the company had

finished their dinner. The Emperor remained walking on deck till dark.

On returning to the after-cabin he sat down to play vingt et un with some

of his suite, and generally retired in about half an hour. On the

morning of the 15th of August all his suite asked permission to be

admitted to his presence. He was not aware of the cause of this visit;

it was his birthday, which seemed to have altogether escaped his

recollection.

On the following day they doubled Cape Finisterre, and up to the 21st,

passing off the Straits of Gibraltar, continued their course along the

coast of Africa towards Madeira. Napoleon commonly remained in his cabin

the whole morning, and from the extreme heat he wore a very slight dress.

He could not sleep well, and frequently rose in the night. Reading was

his chief occupation. He often sent for Count Las Cases to translate

whatever related to St. Helena or the countries by which they were

sailing. Napoleon used to start a subject of conversation; or revive

that of some preceding day, and when he had taken eight or nine turns the

whole length of the deck he would seat himself on the second gun from the

gangway on the larboard side. The midshipmen soon observed this habitual

predilection, so that the cannon was thenceforth called the Emperor's

gun. It was here that Napoleon often conversed for hours together.

On the 22d of August they came within sight of Madeira, and at night

arrived off the port. They stopped for a day or two to take in

provisions. Napoleon was indisposed. A sudden gale arose and the air

was filled with small particles of sand and the suffocating exhalations

from the deserts of Africa. On the evening of the 24th they got under

weigh again, and progressed smoothly and rapidly. The Emperor added to

his amusements a game at piquet. He was but an, indifferent

chess-player, and there was no very good one on board. He asked,

jestingly, "How it was that he frequently beat those who beat better

players than himself?" Vingt et un was given up, as they played too

high at it; and Napoleon had a great aversion to gaming. One night a

negro threw himself overboard to avoid a flogging, which occasioned a

great noise and bustle. A young midshipman meeting Las Cases descending

into the cabin, and thinking he was going to inform Napoleon, caught

hold of his coat and in a tone of great concern exclaimed, "Ah sir, do

not alarm the Emperor! Tell him the noise is owing to an accident!" In

general the midshipmen behaved with marked respect and attention to

Bonaparte, and often by signs or words directed the sailors to avoid

incommoding him: He sometimes noticed this conduct, and remarked that

youthful hearts were always prone to generous instincts.

On the 1st of September they found themselves in the latitude of the Cape

de Verd Islands. Everything now promised a prosperous passage, but the

time hung heavily. Las Cases had undertaken to teach his son English,

and the Emperor also expressed a wish to learn. He, however, soon grew

tired and laid it aside, nor was it resumed until long afterwards. His

manners and habits were always the same; he invariably appeared

contented, patient, and good-humoured. The Admiral gradually laid aside

his reserve, and took an interest in his great captive. He pointed out

the danger incurred by coming on deck after dinner, owing to the damp of

the evening: the Emperor, would then sometimes take his arm and prolong

the conversation, talking sometimes on naval affairs, on the French

resources in the south, and on the improvements he had contemplated in

the ports and harbours of the Mediterranean, to all which the Admiral

listened with deep attention.

Meanwhile Napoleon observed that Las Cases was busily employed, and

obtained a sight of his journal, with which he was not displeased. He,

however, noticed that some of the military details and anecdotes gave but

a meagre idea of the subject of war: This first led to the proposal of

his writing his own Memoirs. At length the Emperor came to a

determination, and on Saturday, the 9th of September he called his

secretary into his cabin and dictated to him some particulars of the

siege of Toulon. On approaching the line they fell in with the

trade-winds, that blow here constantly from the east. On the 16th there

was a considerable fall of rain, to the great joy of the sailors, who

were in want of water. The rain began to fall heavily just as the

Emperor had got upon deck to take his afternoon walk. But this did not

disappoint him of his usual exercise; he merely called for his famous

gray greatcoat, which the crew regarded with much interest.

On the 23d of September they passed the line. This was a day of great

merriment and disorder among the crew: it was the ceremony which the

English sailors call the "christening." No one is spared; and the

officers are generally more roughly handled than any one else. The

Admiral, who had previously amused himself by giving an alarming

description of this ceremony, now very courteously exempted his guests

from the inconvenience and ridicule attending it. Napoleon was

scrupulously respected through the whole of this Saturnalian festivity.

On being informed of the decorum which had been observed with regard to

him he ordered a hundred Napoleons to be presented to the grotesque

Neptune and his crew; which the Admiral opposed, perhaps from motives of

prudence as well as politeness.

Owing to the haste with which they had left England the painting of the

ship had been only lately finished, and this circumstance confined

Napoleon, whose sense of smell was very acute, to his room for two days.

They were now, in the beginning of October, driven into the Gulf of

Guinea, where they met a French vessel bound for the Isle of Bourbon.

They spoke with the captain, who expressed his surprise and regret when

he learnt that Napoleon was on board. The wind was unfavourable, and the

ship made little progress. The sailors grumbled at the Admiral, who had

gone out of the usual course. At length they approached the termination

of their voyage. On the 14th of October the Admiral had informed them

that he expected to come within sight of St. Helena that day. They had

scarcely risen from table when their ears were saluted with the cry of

"land!" This was within a quarter of an hour of the time that had been

fixed on. The Emperor went on the forecastle to see the island; but it

was still hardly distinguishable. At daybreak next morning they had a

tolerably clear view of it.

At length, about seventy days after his departure from England, and a

hundred and ten after quitting Paris, Napoleon reached St. Helena. In

the harbour were several vessels of the squadron which had separated from

them, and which they thought they had left behind. Napoleon, contrary to

custom, dressed early and went upon deck: he went forward to the gangway

to view the island. He beheld a kind of village surrounded by numerous

barren hills towering to the clouds. Every platform, every aperture, the

brow of every hill was planted with cannon. The Emperor viewed the

prospect through his glass. His countenance underwent no change. He

soon left the deck; and sending for Las Cases, proceeded to his day's

work. The Admiral, who had gone ashore very early, returned about six

much fatigued. He had been walking over various parts of the island, and

at length thought he had found a habitation that would suit his captives.

The place stood in need of repairs, which might occupy two months. His

orders were not to let the French quit the vessel till a house should be

prepared to receive them. He, however, undertook, on his own

responsibility, to set them on shore the next day.

On the 16th, after dinner, Napoleon, accompanied by the Admiral and the

Grand-Marshal, Bertrand, got into a boat to go ashore. As he passed, the

officers assembled on the quarter-deck, and the greater part of the crew

on the gangways. The Emperor, before he stepped into the boat, sent for

the captain of the vessel, and took leave of him, desiring him at the

same time to convey his thanks to the officers and crew. These words

appeared to produce the liveliest sensation in all by whom they were

understood, or to whom they were interpreted. The remainder of his suite

landed about eight. They found the Emperor in the apartments which had

been assigned to him, a few minutes after he went upstairs to his

chamber. He was lodged in a sort of inn in James Town, which consists

only, of one short street, or row of houses built in a narrow valley

between two rocky hills.

The next day the Emperor, the Grand-Marshal, and the Admiral, riding out

to visit Longwood, which had been chosen for the Emperor's residence, on

their return saw a small villa, with a pavilion attached to it, about two

miles from the town, the residence of Mr. Balcombe; a merchant of the

island. This spot pleased Napoleon, and the Admiral was of opinion that

it would be better for him to remain here than to return to the town,

where the sentinels at his door, with the crowds collected round it,

in a manner confined him to his chamber. The pavilion was a sort of

summer-house on a pyramidal eminence, about thirty or forty paces from the

house, where the family were accustomed to resort in fine weather: this

was hired for the temporary abode of the Emperor, and he took possession

of it immediately. There was a carriage-road from the town, and the

valley was in this part less rugged in its aspect. Las Cases was soon

sent for. As he ascended the winding path leading to the pavilion he saw

Napoleon standing at the threshold of the door. His body was slightly

bent, and his hands behind his back: he wore his usual plain and simple

uniform and the well-known hat. The Emperor was alone. He took a fancy

to walk a little; but there was no level ground on any side of the

pavilion, which was surrounded by huge pieces of rock. Taking the arm of

his companion, however, he began to converse in a cheerful strain. When

Napoleon was about to retire to rest the servants found that one of the

windows was open close to the bed: they barricaded it as well as they

could, so as to exclude the air, to the effects of which the Emperor was

very susceptible. Las Cases ascended to an upper room. The valets de

chambres lay stretched in their cloaks across the threshold of the door.

Such was the first night Napoleon passed at the Briars.

An English officer was lodged with them in the house as their guard, and

two non-commissioned officers were stationed near the house to watch

their movements. Napoleon the next day proceeded with his dictation,

which occupied him for several hours, and then took a walk in the garden,

where he was met by the two Misses Balcombe, lively girls about fourteen

years of age, who presented him with flowers, and overwhelmed him with

whimsical questions. Napoleon was amused by their familiarity, to which

he had been little accustomed. "We have been to a masked ball," said he,

when the young ladies had taken their leave.

The next day a chicken was brought for breakfast, which the Emperor

undertook to carve himself, and was surprised at his succeeding so well,

it being a long time since he had done so much. The coffee he considered

so bad that on tasting it he thought himself poisoned, and sent it away.

The mornings were passed in business; in the evening Napoleon sometimes

strolled to the neighbouring villa, where the young ladies made him play

at whist. The Campaign of Italy was nearly finished, and Las Cases

proposed that the other followers of Napoleon who were lodged in the town

should come up every morning to assist in transcribing The Campaign of

Egypt, the History of the Consulate, etc. This suggestion pleased the

ex-Emperor, so that from that time one or two of his suite came regularly

every day to write to his dictation, and stayed to dinner. A tent, sent

by the Colonel of the 53d Regiment, was spread out so as to form a

prolongation of the pavillion. Their cook took up his abode at the

Briars. The table linen was taken from the trunks, the plate was set

forth, and the first dinner after these new arrangements was a sort of

fete.

One day at dinner Napoleon, casting his eye on one of the dishes of his

own campaign-service, on which the-arms of the King had been engraved,

"How they have spoiled that!" he exclaimed; and he could not refrain from

observing that the King was in great haste to take possession of the

Imperial plate, which certainly did not belong to him. Amongst the

baggage was also a cabinet in which were a number of medallions, given

him by the Pope and other potentates, some letters of Louis XVIII. which

he had left behind him on his writing-table in the suddenness of his

flight from the Tuileries on the 20th of March, and a number of other

letters found in the portfolio of Dia Blacas intended to calumniate

Napoleon.

The Emperor never dressed until about four o'clock he then walked in the

garden, which was particularly agreeable to him on account of its

solitude--the English soldiers having been removed at Mr. Balcombe's

request. A little arbour was covered with canvas; and a chair and table

placed in it, and here Napoleon dictated a great part of his Memoirs.

In the evening, when he did not go out, he generally contrived to prolong

the conversation till eleven or twelve o'clock.

Thus time passed with little variety or interruption. The weather in the

winter became delightful. One day, his usual task being done; Napoleon

strolled out towards the town, until he came within sight of the road and

shipping. On his return he met Mrs. Balcombe and a Mrs. Stuart, who was

on her way back from Bombay to England. The Emperor conversed with her on

the manners and customs of India, and on the inconveniences of a long

voyage at sea, particularly to ladies. He alluded to Scotland, Mrs.

Stuart's native country, expatiated on the genius of Ossian, and

congratulated his fair interlocutor on the preservation of her clear

northern complexion. While the parties were thus engaged some heavily

burdened slaves passed near to them. Mrs. Balcombe motioned them to make

a detour; but Napoleon interposed, exclaiming, "Respect the burden,

madam!" As he said this the Scotch lady, who had been very eagerly

scanning the features of Napoleon, whispered to her friend, "Heavens!

what a character, and what an expression of countenance! How different

to the idea I had formed of him!"

Napoleon shortly after repeated the same walk, and went into the house of

Major Hudson. This visit occasioned considerable alarm to the

constituted authorities.

The Governor gave a ball, to which the French were invited; and Las Cases

about the same time rode over to Longwood to see what advance had been

made in the preparations for their reception. His report on his return

was not very favourable. They had now been six weeks at the Briars,

during which Napoleon had been nearly as much confined as if on board the

vessel. His health began to be impaired by it. Las Cases gave it as his

opinion that the Emperor did not possess that constitution of iron which

was usually ascribed to him; and that it was the strength of his mind,

not of his body, that carried him through the labours of the field and of

the cabinet. In speaking on this subject Napoleon himself observed that.

nature had endowed him with two peculiarities: one was the power of

sleeping at any hour or in any place; the other, his being incapable of

committing any excess either in eating or drinking: "If," said he, "I go

the least beyond my mark my stomach instantly revolts." He was subject

to nausea from very slight causes, and to colds from any change of air.

The prisoners removed to Longwood on the 10th of December 1815. Napoleon

invited Mr. Balcombe to breakfast with him that morning, and conversed

with him in a very cheerful manner. About two Admiral Cockburn was

announced; he entered with an air of embarrassment. In consequence of

the restraints imposed upon him at the Briars, and the manner in which

those of his suite residing in the town had been treated, Bonaparte had

discontinued receiving the visits of the Admiral; yet on the present

occasion he behaved towards him as though nothing had happened. At

length they left the Briars and set out for Longwood. Napoleon rode the

horse, a small, sprightly, and tolerably handsome animal, which had been

brought for him from the Cape. He wore his uniform of the Chasseurs of

the Guard, and his graceful manner and handsome countenance were

particularly remarked. The Admiral was very attentive to him. At the

entrance of Longwood they found a guard under arms who rendered the

prescribed honours to their illustrious captive. His horse, unaccustomed

to parades, and frightened by the roll of the dram, refused to pass the

gate till spurred on by Napoleon, while a significant look passed among

the escort. The Admiral took great pains to point out the minutest

details at Longwood. He had himself superintended all the arrangements,

among which was a bath-room. Bonaparte was satisfied with everything,

and the Admiral seemed highly pleased. He had anticipated petulance and

disdain, but Napoleon manifested perfect good-humour.

The entrance to the house was through a room which had been just built to

answer the double purpose of an ante-chamber and a dining-room. This

apartment led to the drawing-room; beyond this was a third room running

in a cross direction and very dark. This was intended to be the

depository of the Emperor's maps and books, but it was afterwards

converted into the dining-room. The Emperor's chamber opened into this

apartment on the right hand side, and was divided into two equal parts,

forming a cabinet and sleeping-room; a little external gallery served for

a bathing-room: Opposite the Emperor's chamber, at the other extremity of

the building, were the apartments of Madame Montholon, her husband, and

her son, afterward used as the Emperors library. Detached from this part

of the house was a little square room on the ground floor, contiguous to

the kitchen, which was assigned to Las Cases. The windows and beds had no

curtains. The furniture was mean and scanty. Bertrand and his family

resided at a distance of two miles, at a place called Rut's Gate.

General Gourgaud slept under a tent, as well as Mr. O'Meara, and the

officer commanding the guard. The house was surrounded by a garden. In

front, and separated by a tolerably deep ravine, was encamped the 53d

Regiment, different parties of which were stationed on the neighbouring

heights.

The domestic establishment of the Emperor consisted of eleven persons.

To the Grand-Marshal was confided the general superintendence; to M. de

Montholon the domestic details; Las Cases was to take care of the

furniture and property, and General Gourgaud to have the management of

the stables. These arrangements, however, produced discontent among

Napoleon's attendants. Las Cases admits that they were no longer the

members of one family, each using his best efforts to promote the

advantage of all. They were far from practising that which necessity

dictated. He says also, "The Admiral has more than once, in the midst of

our disputes with him, hastily exclaimed that the Emperor was decidedly

the most good-natured, just, and reasonable of the whole set."

On his first arrival he went to visit the barracks occupied by some

Chinese living on the island, and a place called Longwood Farm. He

complained to Las Cases that they had been idle of late; but by degrees

their hours and the employment of them became fixed and regular. The

Campaign of Italy being now finished, Napoleon corrected it, and dictated

on other subjects. This was their morning's work. They dined between

eight and nine, Madame Montholon being seated on Napoleon's right; Las

Cases on his left, and Gourgaud, Montholon, and Las Cases' son sitting

opposite. The smell of the paint not being yet gone off, they remained

not more than ten minutes at table, and the dessert was prepared in the

adjoining apartment, where coffee was served up and conversation

commenced. Scenes were read from Moliere, Racine, and Voltaire; and

regret was always expressed at their not having a copy of Corneille.

They then played at 'reversis', which had been Bonaparte's favourite game

in his youth. The recollection was agreeable to him, and he thought he

could amuse himself at it for any length of time, but was soon

undeceived. His aim was always to make the 'reversis', that is, to win

every trick. Character is displayed in the smallest incidents.

Napoleon read a libel on himself, and contrasted the compliments

which had passed between him and the Queen of Prussia with the

brutal-behaviour ascribed to him in the English newspapers. On the

other hand, two common sailors had at different times, while he was at

Longwood and at the Briars, in spite of orders and at all risks, made

their way through the sentinels to gain a sight of Napoleon. On seeing

the interest they took in him he exclaimed, "This is fanaticism! Yes,

imagination rules the world!"

The instructions of the English Ministers with regard to the treatment of

Napoleon at St. Helena had been prepared with the view completely to

secure his person. An English officer was to be constantly at his table.

This order, however, was not carried into effect. An officer was also to

accompany Napoleon in all his rides; this order was dispensed with within

certain prescribed limits, because Napoleon had refused to ride at all on

such conditions. Almost everyday brought with it some new cause of

uneasiness and complaint. Sentinels were posted beneath Napoleon's

windows and before his doors. This order was, however, doubtless given

to prevent his being annoyed by impertinent curiosity. The French were

certainly precluded from all free communication with the inhabitants of

the island; but this precaution was of unquestionable necessity for the

security of the Emperor's person. Las Cases complains that the passwords

were perpetually changed, so that they lived in constant perplexity and

apprehension of being subjected to some unforeseen insult. "Napoleon,"

he continues, "addressed a complaint to the Admiral, which obtained for

him no redress. In the midst of these complaints the Admiral wished to

introduce some ladies (who had arrived in the Doric) to Napoleon; but he

declined, not approving this alternation of affronts and civilities."

He, however, consented, at the request of their Colonel, to receive the

officers of the 53d Regiment. After this officer took his leave.

Napoleon prolonged his walk in the garden. He stopped awhile to look at

a flower in one of the beds, and asked his companion if it was not a

lily. It was indeed a magnificent one. The thought that he had in his

mind was obvious. He then spoke of the number of times he had been

wounded; and said it had been thought he had never met with these

accidents from his having kept them secret as much as possible.'

It was near the end of December. One day, after a walk and a tumble in

the mud, Bonaparte returned and found a packet of English newspapers,

which the Grand-Marshal translated to him. This occupied him till late,

and he forgot his dinner in discussing their contents. After dinner had

been served Las Cases wished to continue the translation, but Napoleon

would not suffer him to proceed, from consideration for the weak state of

his eyes. "We must wait till to-morrow," said he. A few days afterwards

the Admiral came in person to visit him, and the interview was an

agreeable one. After some animated discussion it was arranged that

Napoleon should henceforth ride freely about the island; that the officer

should follow him only at a distance; and that visitors should be

admitted to him, not with the permission of the Admiral as the Inspector

of Longwood, but with that of the Grand-Marshal, who was to do the

honours of the establishment. These concessions were, however, soon

recalled. On the 30th of this month Piontkowsky, a Pole; who had been

left behind, but whose entreaties prevailed upon the English Government,

joined Bonaparte. On New-Year's Day all their little party was collected

together, and Napoleon, entering into the feelings of the occasion,

begged that they might breakfast and pass it together. Every day

furnished some new trait of this kind.

On the 14th of April 1816 Sir Hudson Lowe, the new Governor, arrived at

St. Helena. This epoch is important, as making the beginning of a

continued series of accusations, and counter-accusations, by which the

last five years of Napoleon's life were constantly occupied, to the great

annoyance of himself and all connected with him, and possibly to the

shortening of his own existence.

It would be tedious to detail the progress of this petty war, but, as a

subject which has formed so great a portion of the life of Napoleon, it

must not be omitted. To avoid anything which may appear like a bias

against Napoleon, the details, unless when otherwise mentioned, will be

derived from Las Cases, his devoted admirer.

On the first visit of the new Governor; which was the 16th of April,

Napoleon refused to admit him, because he himself was ill, and also

because the Governor had not asked beforehand for an audience. On the

second visit the Governor, was admitted to an audience, and Napoleon

seems to have taken a prejudice at first sight, as he remarked to his

suite that the Governor was "hideous, and had a most ugly countenance,"

though he allowed he ought not to judge too hastily. The spirit of the

party was shown by a remark made, that the first two days had been days

of battle.

The Governor saw Napoleon again on the 30th April, and the interview was

stormy. Napoleon argued with the Governor on the conduct of the Allies

towards him, said they had no right to dispose of him, who was their

equal and sometimes their master. He then declaimed on the eternal

disgrace the English had inflicted on themselves by sending him to St.

Helena; they wished to kill him by a lingering death: their conduct was

worse than that of the Calabrians in shooting Murat. He talked of the

cowardliness of suicide, complained of the small extent and horrid

climate of St. Helena, and said it would be an act of kindness to deprive

him of life at once. Sir H. Lowe said that a house of wood, fitted up

with every possible accommodation, was then on its way from England for

his use. Napoleon refused it at once, and exclaimed that it was not a

house but an executioner and a coffin that he wanted; the house was a

mockery, death would be a favour. A few minutes after Napoleon took up

some reports of the campaigns of 1814, which lay on the table, and asked

Sir H. Lowe if he had written them. Las Cases, after saying that the

Governor replied in the affirmative, finishes his account of the

interview, but according to O'Meara, Napoleon said they were full of

folly and falsehood. The Governor, with a much milder reply than most

men would have given, retired, and Napoleon harangued upon the sinister

expression of his countenance, abused him in the coarsest manner, and

made his servant throw a cup of coffee out of the window because it had

stood a moment on a table near the Governor.

It was required that all persons who visited at Longwood or at Hut's Gate

should make a report to the Governor, or to Sir Thomas Reade, of the

conversations they had held with the French. Several additional

sentinels were posted around Longwood House and grounds.

During some extremely wet and foggy weather Napoleon did not go out for

several days. Messengers and letters continually succeeded one another

from Plantation House. The Governor appeared anxious to see Napoleon,

and was evidently distrustful, although the residents at Longwood were

assured of his actual presence by the sound of his voice. He had some

communications with Count Bertrand on the necessity that one of his

officers should see Napoleon daily. He also went to Longwood frequently

himself, and finally, after some difficulty, succeeded in obtaining an

interview with Napoleon in his bedchamber, which lasted about a quarter

of an hour. Some days before he sent for Mr. O'Meara, asked a variety of

questions concerning the captive, walked round the house several times

and before the windows, measuring and laying down the plan of a new

ditch, which he said he would have dug in order to prevent the cattle

from trespassing.

On the morning of the 5th of May Napoleon sent for his surgeon O'Meara to

come to him. He was introduced into Napoleon's bed-chamber, a

description of which is thus given: "It was about fourteen feet by

twelve, and ten or eleven feet in height. The walls were lined with

brown nankeen, bordered and edged with common green bordering paper, and

destitute of skirting. Two small windows without pulleys, one of which

was thrown up and fastened by a piece of notched wood, looked towards the

camp of the 53d Regiment. There were window-curtains of white

long-cloth, a small fire-place, a shabby grate and fire-irons to match,

with a paltry mantelpiece of wood, painted white, upon which stood a small

marble bust of his son. Above the mantelpiece hung the portrait of Maria

Louisa, and four or five of young Napoleon, one of which was embroidered

by the hands of his mother. A little more to the right hung also the

portrait of the Empress Josephine; and to the left was suspended the

alarm chamber-watch of Frederick the Great, obtained by Napoleon at

Potsdam; while on the right the Consular watch, engraved with the cipher

B, hung, by a chain of the plaited hair of Maria Louisa, from a pin stuck

in the nankeen lining. In the right-hand corner was placed the little

plain iron camp-bedstead, with green silk curtains, on which its master

had reposed on the fields of Marengo and Austerlitz. Between the windows

there was a chest of drawers, and a bookcase with green blinds stood on

the left of the door leading to the next apartment. Four or five

cane-bottomed chairs painted green were standing here and there about the.

room. Before the back door there was a screen covered with nankeen, and

between that and the fireplace an old-fashioned sofa covered with white

long-cloth, on which Napoleon reclined, dressed in his white

morning-gown, white loose trousers and stockings all in one, a chequered

red handkerchief upon his head, and his shirt-collar open without a

cravat. His sir was melancholy and troubled. Before him stood a little

round table, with some books, at the foot of which lay in confusion upon

the carpet a heap of those which he had already perused, and at the

opposite side of the sofa was suspended Isabey's portrait of the Empress

Maria Louisa, holding her son in her arms. In front of the fireplace

stood Las Cases with his arms folded over his breast and some papers in

one of his hands. Of all the former magnificence of the once mighty

Emperor of France nothing remained but a superb wash-hand-stand

containing a silver basin and water-jug of the same metal, in the

lefthand corner." The object of Napoleon in sending for O'Meara on this

occasion was to question him whether in their future intercourse he was

to consider him in the light of a spy and a tool of the Governor or as

his physician? The doctor gave a decided and satisfactory answer on this

point.

"During the short interview that this Governor had with me in my

bedchamber, one of the first things he proposed was to send you away,"

said Napoleon to O'Meara, "and that I should take his own surgeon in your

place. This he repeated, and so earnest was he to gain his object that,

though I gave him a flat refusal, when he was going out he turned about

and again proposed it."

On the 11th a proclamation was issued by the Governor, "forbidding any

persons on the island from sending letters to or receiving them from

General Bonaparte or his suite, on pain of being immediately arrested and

dealt with accordingly." Nothing escaped the vigilance of Sir Hudson

Lowe. "The Governor," said Napoleon, "has just sent an invitation to

Bertrand for General Bonaparte to come to Plantation House to meet Lady

Moira. I told Bertrand to return no answer to it. If he really wanted

me to see her he would have put Plantation House within the limits, but

to send such an invitation, knowing I must go in charge of a guard if I

wished to avail myself of it, was an insult."

Soon after came the Declaration of the Allies and the Acts of Parliament

authorising the detention of Napoleon Bonaparte as a prisoner of war and

disturber of the peace of Europe. Against the Bill, when brought into

the House of Lords, there were two protests, those of Lord Holland and of

the Duke of Sussex. These official documents did not tend to soothe the

temper or raise the spirits of the French to endure their captivity.

In addition to the misery of his own captivity, Napoleon had to contend

with the unmanageable humours of his own followers. As often happens

with men in such circumstances, they sometimes disagreed among

themselves, and part of their petulance and ill-temper fell upon their

Chief. He took these little incidents deeply to heart. On one occasion

he said in bitterness, "I know that I am fallen; but to feel this among

you! I am aware that man is frequently unreasonable and susceptible of

offence. Thus, when I am mistrustful of myself I ask, should I have been

treated so at the Tuileries? This is my test."

A great deal of pains has been taken by Napoleon's adherents and others

to blacken the character of Sir Hudson Lowe, and to make it appear that

his sole object was to harass Napoleon and to make his life miserable.

Now, although it may be questioned whether Sir Hudson Lowe was the proper

person to be placed in the delicate situation of guard over the fallen

Emperor, there is no doubt that quarrels and complaints began long before

that officer reached the island; and the character of those complaints

will show that at best the prisoners were persons very difficult to

satisfy. Their detention at the Briars was one of the first causes of

complaint. It was stated that the Emperor was very ill there, that he

was confined "in a cage" with no attendance, that his suite was kept from

him, and that he was deprived of exercise. A few pages farther in the

journal of Las Cases we find the Emperor in good health, and as soon as

it was announced that Longwood was ready to receive him, then it was

urged that the gaolers wished to compel him to go against his will, that

they desired to push their authority to the utmost, that the smell of the

paint at Longwood was very disagreeable, etc. Napoleon himself was quite

ready to go, and seemed much vexed when Count Bertrand and General

Gourgaud arrived from Longwood with the intelligence that the place was

as yet uninhabitable. His displeasure, however, was much more seriously

excited by the appearance of Count Montholon with the information that

all was ready at Longwood within a few minutes after receiving the

contrary accounts from Bertrand and Gourgaud. He probably perceived that

he was trifled with by his attendants, who endeavoured to make him

believe that which suited their own convenience. We may also remark that

the systematic opposition which was carried to such a great length

against Sir Hudson Lowe had begun during the stay of Admiral Cockburn.

His visits were refused; he was accused of caprice, arrogance, and

impertinence, and he was nicknamed "the Shark" by Napoleon himself; his

own calmness alone probably prevented more violent ebullitions.

The wooden house arrived at last, and the Governor waited on Napoleon to

consult with him how and where it should be erected. Las Cases, who

heard the dispute in an adjoining room, says that it was long and

clamorous.

He gives the details in Napoleon's own words, and we have here the

advantage of comparing his statement with the account transmitted by Sir

Hudson Lowe to the British Government, dated 17th May 1816. The two

accounts vary but little. Napoleon admits that he was thrown quite out

of temper, that he received the Governor with his stormy countenance,

looked furiously at him, and made no reply to his information of the

arrival of the house but by a significant look. He told him that he

wanted nothing, nor would receive anything at his hands; that he supposed

he was to be put to death by poison or the sword; the poison 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.

Great complaints were made of the scanty way in which the table of the

exiles was supplied; and it was again and again alleged by them that they

had scarcely anything to eat. The wine, too, was said to be execrable,

so bad that in fact it could not be drunk; and, of such stuff as it was,

only one bottle a day was allowed to each person--an allowance which Las

Cases calls ridiculously small. Thus pressed, but partly for effect,

Napoleon resolved to dispose of his plate in monthly proportions; and as

he knew that some East India captains had offered as much as a hundred

guineas for a single plate, in order to preserve a memorial of him, he

determined that what was sold should be broken up, the arms erased, and

no trace left which could show that they had ever been his. The only

portions left uninjured were the little eagles with which some of the

dish-covers were mounted. These last fragments were objects of

veneration for the attendants of Napoleon they were looked upon as

relics, with a feeling at once melancholy and religious. When the moment

came for breaking up the plate Las Cases bears testimony to the painful

emotions and real grief produced among the servants. They could not,

without the utmost reluctance, bring themselves to apply the hammer to

those objects of their veneration.

The island of St. Helena was regularly visited by East India ships on the

return voyage, which touched there to take in water, and to leave

gunpowder for the use of the garrison. On such occasions there were

always persons anxious to pay a visit to the renowned captive. The

regulation of those visits was calculated to protect Napoleon from being

annoyed by the idle curiosity of strangers, to which he professed a great

aversion. Such persons as wished to wait upon him were, in the first

place, obliged to apply to the Governor, by whom their names were

forwarded to Count Bertrand. This gentleman, as Grand-Marshal of the

household, communicated the wishes of those persons to Napoleon, and in

case of a favourable reply fixed the hour for an interview.

Those visitors whom Napoleon admitted were chiefly persons of rank and

distinction, travellers from distant countries, or men who had

distinguished themselves in the scientific world, and who could

communicate interesting information in exchange for the gratification

they received. Some of those persons who were admitted to interviews

with him have published narratives of their conversation, and all agree

in extolling the extreme grace, propriety, and appearance of benevolence

manifested by Bonaparte while holding these levees. His questions were

always put with great tact, and on some subject with which the person

interrogated was well acquainted, so as to induce him to bring forth any

new or curious information of which he might be possessed.

Captain Basil Hall, in August 1817, when in command of the Lyra, had an

interview with the Emperor, of whom he says: "Bonaparte struck me as

differing considerably from the pictures and busts' I had seen of him.

His face and figure looked much broader and more square--larger, indeed,

in every way than any representation I had met with. His corpulency, at

this time universally reported to be excessive, was by no means

remarkable. His flesh looked, on the contrary, firm and muscular. There

was not the least trace of colour in his cheeks; in fact his skin was

more like marble than ordinary flesh. Not the smallest trace of a

wrinkle was discernible on his brow, nor an approach to a furrow on any

part of his countenance. His health and spirits, judging from

appearances, were excellent, though at this period it was generally

believed in England that he was fast sinking under a complication of

diseases, and that his spirits were entirely gone. His manner of

speaking was rather slow than otherwise, and perfectly distinct; he

waited with great patience and kindness for my answers to his questions,

and a reference to Count Bertrand was necessary only once during the

whole conversation. The brilliant and sometimes dazzling expression of

his eye could not be overlooked. It was not, however, a permanent

lustre, for it was only remarkable when he was excited by some point of

particular interest. It is impossible to imagine an expression of more

entire mildness, I may almost call it of benignity and kindness, than

that which played over his features during the whole interview. If,

therefore he were at this time out of health and in low spirits, his

power of self-command must have been even more extraordinary than is

generally supposed, for his whole deportment, his conversation, and the

expression of his countenance indicated a frame in perfect health and a

mind at ease."

The manner assumed by Napoleon in the occasional interviews he had with

such visitors was so very opposite to that which he constantly maintained

towards the authorities in whose custody he was placed, that we can

scarcely doubt he was acting a part in one of those situations. It was

suggested by Mr. Ellis that he either wished, by means of his continual

complaints, to keep alive his interest in England, where he flattered

himself there was a party favourable to him, or that his troubled mind

found an occupation in the annoyance which he caused to the Governor.

Every attempt at conciliation on the part of Sir Hudson Lowe furnished

fresh causes for irritation. He sent fowling-pieces to Longwood, and the

thanks returned were a reply from Napoleon that it was an insult to send

fowling-pieces where there was no game. An invitation to a ball was

resented vehemently, and descanted upon by the French party as a great

offence. Sir Hudson Lowe at one time sent a variety of clothes and other

articles received from England which he imagined might be useful at

Longwood. Great offence was taken at this; they were treated, they said,

like paupers; the articles, ought to have been left at the Governor's

house, and a list sent respectfully to the household, stating that such

things were at their command if they wanted them.

An opinion has already been expressed that much of this annoyance was due

to the offended pride of Napoleon's attendants, who were at first

certainly far more captious than himself. He admitted as much himself on

one occasion in a conversation with O'Meara. He said, "Las Cases

certainly was greatly irritated against Sir Hudson, and contributed

materially towards forming the impressions existing in my mind." He

attributed this to the sensitive mind of Las Cases, which he said was

peculiarly alive to the ill-treatment Napoleon and himself had been

subjected to. Sir Hudson Lowe also felt this, and remarked, like Sir

George Cockburn, on more than one occasion, that he always found Napoleon

himself more reasonable than the persons about him.

A fertile source of annoyance was the resolution of Napoleon not upon any

terms to acknowledge himself a prisoner, and his refusal to submit to

such regulations as would render his captivity less burdensome. More

than once the attendance of an officer was offered to be discontinued if

he would allow himself to be seen once every day, and promise to take no

means of escaping. "If he were to give me the whole of the island," said

Napoleon, "on condition that I would pledge my word not to attempt an

escape, I would not accept it; because it would be equivalent to

acknowledging myself a prisoner, although at the same time I would not

make the attempt. I am here by force, and not by right. If I had been

taken at Waterloo perhaps I might have had no hesitation in accepting it,

although even in that case it would be contrary to the law of nations,

as now there is no war. If they were to offer me permission to reside in

England on similar conditions I would refuse it." The very idea of

exhibiting himself to an officer every day, though but for a moment, was

repelled with indignation. He even kept loaded pistols to shoot any

person who should attempt an intrusion on his privacy. It is stated in a

note in O'Meara's journal that "the Emperor was so firmly impressed with

the idea that an attempt would be made forcibly to intrude on his

privacy, that from a short time after the departure of Sir George

Cockburn he always kept four or five pairs of loaded pistols and some

swords in his apartment, with which he was determined to despatch the

first who entered against his will." It seems this practice was

continued to his death.

Napoleon continued to pass the mornings in dictating his Memoirs and the

evenings in reading or conversation. He grew fonder of Racine, but his

favourite was Corneille. He repeated that, had he lived in his time, he

would have made him a prince. He had a distaste to Voltaire, and found

considerable fault with his dramas, perhaps justly, as conveying opinions

rather than sentiments. He criticised his Mahomet, and said he had made

him merely an impostor and a tyrant, without representing him as a great

man. This was owing to Voltaire's religious and political antipathies;

for those who are free from common prejudices acquire others of their own

in their stead, to which they are equally bigoted, and which they bring

forward on all occasions. When the evening passed off in conversation

without having recourse to books he considered it a point gained.

Some one having asked the Emperor which was the greatest battle that he

had fought, he replied it was difficult to answer that question without

inquiring what was implied by the greatest battle. "Mine," continued he,

"cannot be judged of separately: they formed a portion of extensive

plans. They must therefore be estimated by their consequences. The

battle of Marengo, which was so long undecided, procured for us the

command of all Italy. Ulm annihilated a whole army; Jena laid the whole

Prussian monarchy at our feet; Friedland opened the Russian empire to us;

and Eckmuhl decided the fate of a war. The battle of the Moskwa was that

in which the greatest talent was displayed, and by which we obtained the

fewest advantages. Waterloo, where everything failed, would, had victory

crowned our efforts, have saved France and given peace to Europe."

Madame Montholon having inquired what troops he considered the best,

"Those which are victorious, madam," replied the Emperor. "But," added

he, "soldiers are capricious and inconstant, like you ladies. The best

troops were the Carthaginians under Hannibal, the Romans under the

Scipios, the Macedonians under Alexander, and the Prussians under

Frederick." He thought, however, that the French soldiers were of all

others those which could most easily be rendered the best, and preserved

so. With my complete guard of 40,000 or 50,000 men I would have

undertaken to march through Europe. It is perhaps possible to produce

troops as good as those that composed my army of Italy and Austerlitz,

but certainly none can ever surpass them."

The anniversary of the battle of Waterloo produced a visible impression

on the Emperor. "Incomprehensible day!" said he, dejectedly;

"concurrence of unheard-of fatalities! Grouchy, Ney, D'Erlon--was there

treachery or was it merely misfortune? Alas! poor France!" Here he

covered his eyes with his hands. "And yet," said he, "all that human

skill could do was accomplished! All was not lost until the moment when

all had succeeded." A short time afterwards, resuming the subject, he

exclaimed, "In that extraordinary campaign, thrice, in less than a week,

I saw the certain triumph of France slip through my fingers. Had it not

been for a traitor I should have annihilated the enemy at the outset of

the campaign. I should have destroyed him at Ligny if my left wing had

only done its duty. I should have destroyed him again at Waterloo if my

right had seconded me. Singular defeat, by which, notwithstanding the

most fatal catastrophe, the glory of the conquered has not suffered."

We shall here give Napoleon's own opinion of the battle of Waterloo.

"The plan of the battle," said he, "will not in the eyes of the

historian reflect any credit on Lord Wellington as a general. In the

first place, he ought not to have given battle with the armies divided.

They ought to have been united and encamped before the 15th. In the

next, the choice of ground was bad; because if he had been beaten he

could not have retreated, as there was only one road leading through the

forest in his rear. He also committed a fault which might have proved

the destruction of all his army, without its ever having commenced the

campaign, or being drawn out in battle; he allowed himself to be

surprised. On the 15th I was at Charleroi, and had beaten the Prussians

without his knowing anything about it. I had gained forty-eight hours of

manoeuvres upon him, which was a great object; and if some of my generals

had shown that vigour and genius which they had displayed on other

occasions, I should have taken his army in cantonments without ever

fighting a battle. But they were discouraged, and fancied that they saw

an army of 100,000 men everywhere opposed to them. I had not time enough

myself to attend to the minutiae of the army. I counted upon surprising

and cutting Wellington up in detail. I knew of Bulow's arrival at eleven

o'clock, but I did not regard it. I had still eighty chances out of a

hundred in my favour. Notwithstanding the great superiority of force

against me I was convinced that I should obtain the victory, I had about

70,000 men, of whom 15,000 were cavalry. I had also 260 pieces of

cannon; but my troops were so good that I esteemed them sufficient to

beat 120,000. Of all those troops, however, I only reckoned the English

as being able to cope with my own. The others I thought little of.

I believe that of English there were from 35,000 to 40,000. These I

esteemed to be as brave and as good as my own troops; the English army

was well known latterly on the Continent, and besides, your nation

possesses courage and energy. As to the Prussians, Belgians, and others,

half the number of my troops, were sufficient to beat them. I only left

34,000 men to take care of the Prussians. The chief causes of the loss

of that battle were, first of all, Grouchy's great tardiness and neglect

in executing his orders; next, the 'grenadiers a cheval' and the cavalry

under General Guyot, which I had in reserve, and which were never to

leave me, engaged without orders and without my knowledge; so that after

the last charge, when the troops were beaten and the English cavalry

advanced, I had not a single corps of cavalry in reserve to resist them,

instead of one which I esteemed to be equal to double their own number.

In consequence of this the English attacked, succeeded, and all was lost.

There was no means of rallying. The youngest general would not have

committed the fault of leaving an army entirely without reserve, which,

however, occurred here, whether in consequence of treason or not I cannot

say. These were the two principal causes of the loss of the battle of

Waterloo."

"If Lord Wellington had intrenched himself," continued Napoleon, "I would

not have attacked him. As a general, his plan did not show talent.

He certainly displayed great courage and obstinacy; but a little must

be taken away even from that when you consider that he had no means of

retreat, and that had he made the attempt not a man of his army would

have escaped. First, to the firmness and bravery of his troops, for the

English fought with the greatest courage and obstinacy, he is principally

indebted for the victory, and not to his own conduct as a general; and

next, to the arrival of Blucher, to whom the victory is more to be

attributed than to Wellington, and more credit is due as a general;

because he, although beaten the day before, assembled his troops, and

brought them into action in the evening. I believe, however," continued

Napoleon, "that Wellington is a man of great firmness. The glory of such

a victory is a great thing; but in the eye of the historian his military

reputation will gain nothing by it."

"I always had a high opinion of your seamen," said Napoleon one day to

O'Meara, in a conversation arising out of the expedition to Algiers.

"When I was returning from Holland along with the Empress Maria Louisa we

stopped to rest at Givet. During the night a violent storm of wind and

rain came on, which swelled the Meuse so much that the bridge of boats

over it was carried away. I was very anxious to depart, and ordered all

the boatmen in the place to be assembled that I might be enabled to cross

the river. They said that the waters were so high that it would be

impossible to pass before two or three days. I questioned some of them,

and soon discovered that they were fresh-water seamen. I then

recollected that there were English prisoners in the barracks, and

ordered that some of the oldest and best seamen among them should be

brought before me to the banks of the river. The waters were very high,

and the current rapid and dangerous. I asked them if they could join a

number of boats together so that I might pass over. They answered that

it was possible, but hazardous. I desired them to set about it

instantly. In the course of a few hours they succeeded in effecting what

the others had pronounced to be impossible, and I crossed before the

evening was over. I ordered those who had worked at it to receive a sum

of money each, a suit of clothes, and their liberty. Marchand was with

me at the time."

In December 1816 Las Cases was compelled to leave St. Helena. He had

written a letter to Lucien Bonaparte, and entrusted it to a mulatto

servant to be forwarded to Europe. He was detected; and as he was thus

endeavouring to carry on (contrary to the regulations of the island) a

clandestine correspondence with Europe, Las Cases and his son were sent

off, first to the Cape and then to England, where they were only allowed

to land to be sent to Dover and shipped off to Ostend.

Not long after their arrival at St. Helena, Madame Bertrand gave birth to

a son, and when Napoleon went to visit her she said, "I have the honour

of presenting to your Majesty the first French subject who has entered

Longwood without the permission of Lord Bathurst."

It has been generally supposed that Napoleon was a believer in the

doctrine of predestination. The following conversation with Las Cases

clearly decides that point. "Pray," said he, "am I not thought to be

given to a belief in predestination?"--"Yes, Sire; at least by many

people."--"Well, well! let them say what they please, one may sometimes

be tempted to set a part, and it may occasionally be useful. But what

are men? How much easier is it to occupy their attention and to strike

their imaginations by absurdities than by rational ideas! But can a man

of sound sense listen for one moment to such a doctrine? Either

predestination admits the existence of free-will, or it rejects it.

If it admits it, what kind of predetermined result can that he which a

simple resolution, a step, a word, may alter or modify ad infinitum?

If predestination, on the contrary, rejects the existence of free-will it

is quite another question; in that case a child need only be thrown into

its cradle as soon as it is born, there is no necessity for bestowing the

least care upon it, for if it be irrevocably decreed that it is to live,

it will grow though no food should be given to it. You see that such a

doctrine cannot be maintained; predestination is but a word without

meaning. The Turks themselves, the professors of predestination, are not

convinced of the doctrine, for in that case medicine would not exist in

Turkey, and a man residing in a third floor would not take the trouble of

going down stairs, but would immediately throw himself out of the window.

You see to what a string of absurdities that will lead?"

The following traits are characteristic of the man. In the common

intercourse of life, and his familiar conversation, Napoleon mutilated

the names most familiar to him, even French names; yet this would not

have occurred on any public occasion. He has been heard many times

during his walks to repeat the celebrated speech of Augustus in

Corneille's tragedy, and he has never missed saying, "Take a seat,

Sylla," instead of Cinna. He would frequently create names according to

his fancy, and when he had once adopted them they remained fixed in his

mind, although they were pronounced properly a hundred times a day in his

hearing; but he would have been struck if others had used them as he had

altered them. It was the same thing with respect to orthography; in

general he did not attend to it, yet if the copies which were made

contained any faults of spelling he would have complained of it. One day

Napoleon said to Las Cases, "Your orthography is not correct, is it?"

This question gave occasion to a sarcastic smile from a person who stood

near, who thought it was meant to convey a reproach. The Emperor, who

saw this, continued, "At least I suppose it is not, for a man occupied

with important public business, a minister, for instance, cannot and need

not attend to orthography. His ideas must flow faster than his hand can

trace them, he has only time to dwell upon essentials; he must put words

in letters, and phrases in words, and let the scribes make it out

afterwards." Napoleon indeed left a great deal for the copyists

to do; he was their torment; his handwriting actually resembled

hieroglyphics--he often could not decipher it himself. Las Cases' son

was one day reading to him a chapter of The Campaign of Italy; on a

sudden he stopped short, unable to make out the writing. "The little

blockhead," said Napoleon, "cannot read his own handwriting."--"It is

not mine, Sire."--"And whose, then?"--"Your Majesty's."--"How so, you

little rogue; do you mean to insult me?" The Emperor took the

manuscript, tried a long while to read it, and at last threw it down,

saying, "He is right; I cannot tell myself what is written." He has

often sent the copyists to Las Cases to read what he had himself been

unable to decipher.

We are now approaching the last melancholy epoch of Napoleon's life, when

he first felt the ravages of that malady which finally put a period to

his existence. Occasional manifestations of its presence had been

exhibited for some years, but his usual health always returned after

every attack, and its fatal nature was not suspected, although Napoleon

himself had several times said that he should die of a scirrhus in the

pylorus, the disease which killed his father, and which the physicians of

Montpelier declared would be hereditary in his family. About the middle

of the year 1818 it was observed that his health grew gradually worse,

and it was thought proper by O'Meara to report to the Governor the state

in which he was. Even on these occasions Napoleon seized the opportunity

for renewing his claim to the title of Emperor. He insisted that the

physician should not send any bulletin whatever unless he named him in it

by his Imperial designation. O'Meara explained that the instructions of

his Government and the orders of Sir Hudson Lowe prohibited him from

using the term; but it was in vain. After some difficulty it was agreed

upon that the word "patient" should be used instead of the title of

General, which caused so much offence, and this substitution got rid of

the difficulty.

O'Meara afterwards proposed to call in the assistance of Dr. Baxter, the

principal medical officer of the island, but this offer Napoleon refused

at once, alleging that, although "it was true he looked like an honest

man, he was too much attached to that hangman" (Lows), he also persisted

in rejecting the aid of medicine, and determined to take no exercise

out-of-doors as long as he should be subjected to the challenge of

sentinels. To a representation that his determination might convert a

curable to a fatal malady, he replied, "I shall at least have the

consolation that my death will be an eternal dishonour to the English

nation who sent me to this climate to die under the hands of . . ."

An important incident in Napoleon's monotonous life was the removal of

O'Meara, who had attended him as his physician from the time of his

arrival on the island. The removal of this gentleman, was occasioned by

the suspicion of similar conduct to that which brought about the

dismissal of Las Cases twenty months previously, namely, the carrying on

secret correspondence with persons out of the island. Napoleon

complained bitterly of the loss of his medical attendant, though he had

most assuredly very seldom attended to his advice, and repelled as an

insult the proffered assistance of Dr. Baxter, insinuating that the

Governor wished to have his life in his power. Some time after Dr.

Stokes, a naval surgeon, was called in, but withdrawn and eventually

tried by court-martial for furnishing information to the French at

Longwood. After this Napoleon expressed his determination to admit no

more visits from any English physician whatever, and Cardinal Fesch was

requested by the British Ministry to select some physician of reputation

in Italy who should be sent to St. Helena to attend on Napoleon. The

choice fell on Dr. Antommarchi, a young surgeon, who was accordingly sent

to St. Helena in company with two Catholic priests, the Abbes Buonavita

and Vignale, and two domestics, in compliance with the wish of Napoleon

to that effect. The party reached the island on 10th September 1819.

On his first visit the Emperor overwhelmed Antommarchi with questions

concerning his mother and family, the Princess Julie (wife of Joseph),

and Las Cases, whom Antommarchi had seen in passing through Frankfort,

expatiated with satisfaction on the retreat which he had at one time

meditated in Corsica, entered into some discussions with the doctor on

his profession, and then directed his attention to the details of his

disorder. While he examined the symptoms the Emperor continued his

remarks. They were sometimes serious, sometimes lively; kindness,

indignation, gaiety, were expressed by turns in his words and in his

countenance. "Well, doctor!" he exclaimed, "what is your opinion? Am I

to trouble much longer the digestion of Kings?"--"You will survive them,

Sire."--"Aye, I believe you; they will not be able to subject to the ban

of Europe the fame of our victories, it will traverse ages, it will.

proclaim the conquerors and the conquered, those who were generous and

those who were not so; posterity will judge, I do not dread its

decision."--"This after-life belongs to you of right. Your name will

never be repeated with admiration without recalling those inglorious

warriors so basely leagued against a single man. But you are not near

your end, you have yet a long career to run."--"No, Doctor! I cannot

hold out long under this frightful climate."--"Your excellent

constitution is proof against its pernicious effects."--"It once did not

yield to the strength of mind with which nature has endowed me, but the

transition from a life of action to a complete seclusion has ruined all.

I have grown fat, my energy is gone, the bow is unstrung." Antommarchi

did not try to combat an opinion but too well-founded, but diverted the

conversation to another subject. "I resign myself," said Napoleon, "to

your direction. Let medicine give the order, I submit to its decisions.

I entrust my health to your care. I owe you the detail of the habits I

have acquired, of the affections to which I am subject.

"The hours at which I obey the injunctions of nature are in general

extremely irregular. I sleep, I eat according to circumstances or the

situation in which I am placed; my sleep is ordinarily sound and

tranquil. If pain or any accident interrupt it I jump out of bed, call

for a light, walk, set to work, and fix my attention on some subject;

sometimes I remain in the dark, change my apartment, lie down in another

bed, or stretch myself on the sofa. I rise at two, three, or four in the

morning; I call for some one to keep me company, amuse myself with

recollections or business, and wait for the return of day. I go out as

soon as dawn appears, take a stroll, and when the sun shows itself I

reenter and go to bed again, where I remain a longer or shorter time,

according as the day promises to turn out. If it is bad, and I feel

irritation and uneasiness, I have recourse to the method I have just

mentioned. I change my posture, pass from my bed to the sofa, from the

sofa to the bed, seek and find a degree of freshness. I do not describe

to you my morning costume; it has nothing to do with the sufferings I

endure, and besides, I do not wish to deprive you of the pleasure of your

surprise when you see it. These ingenious contrivances carry me on to

nine or ten o'clock, sometimes later. I then order the breakfast to be

brought, which I take from time to time in my bath, but most frequently

in the garden. Either Bertrand or Montholon keep me company, often both

of them. Physicians have the right of regulating the table; it is proper

that I should give you an account of mine. Well, then, a basin of soup,

two plates of meat, one of vegetables, a salad when I can take it,

compose the whole service; half a bottle of claret; which I dilute with a

good deal of water, serves me for drink; I drink a little of it pure

towards the end of the repast. Sometimes, when I feel fatigued, I

substitute champagne for claret, it is a certain means of giving a fillip

to the stomach."

The doctor having expressed his surprise at Napoleon's temperance, he

replied, "In my marches with the army of Italy I never failed to put into

the bow of my saddle a bottle of wine, some bread, and a cold fowl. This

provision sufficed for the wants of the day,--I may even say that I often

shared it with others. I thus gained time. I eat fast, masticate

little, my meals do not consume my hours. This is not what you will

approve the most, but in my present situation what signifies it? I am

attacked with a liver complaint, a malady which is general in this

horrible climate."

Antommarchi, having gained his confidence, now became companion as well

as physician to the Emperor, and sometimes read with him. He eagerly

turned over the newspapers when they arrived, and commented freely on

their contents. "It is amusing," he would say, "to see the sage measures

resorted to by the Allies to make people forget my tyranny!" On one

occasion he felt more languid than ordinary, and lighting on the

'Andromache' of Racine; he took up the book, began to read, but soon let

it drop from his hands. He had come to the famous passage where the

mother describes her being allowed to see her son once a day.

He was moved, covered his face with his hands, and, saying that he was

too much affected, desired to be left alone. He grew calmer, fell

asleep, and when he awoke, desired Antommarchi to be called again. He

was getting ready to shave, and the doctor was curious to witness the

operation. He was in his shirt, his head uncovered, with two valets at

his side, one holding the glass and a towel, the other the rest of the

apparatus. The Emperor spread the soap over one side of his face, put

down the brush, wiped his hands and mouth, took a razor dipped in hot

water and shaved the right side with singular dexterity. "Is it done,

Noverraz?"--"Yes, Sire."--"Well, then, face about. Come, villain, quick,

stand still." The light fell on the left side, which, after applying the

lather, he shaved in the same manner and with the same dexterity. He

drew his hand over his chin. "Raise the glass. Am I quite right?"--

"Quite so."--"Not a hair has escaped me: what say you?"--"No, Sire,"

replied the valet de chambre. "No! I think I perceive one. Lift up the

glass, place it in a better light. How, rascal! Flattery? You deceive

me at St. Helena? On this rock? You, too, are an accomplice." With

this he gave them both a box on the ear, laughed, and joked in the most

pleasant manner possible.

An almost incredible instance of the determination of the exiles to make

as many enemies as they possibly could was exhibited to Antommarchi on

his arrival at Longwood. He states that hefore he was permitted to enter

on his functions as surgeon he was required to take an oath that he would

not communicate with the English, and that he would more especially avoid

giving them the least information respecting the progress of Napoleon's

disorder. He was not allowed to see his illustrious patient until the

oath was taken. After exacting such an oath from his physician the

attendants of Bonaparte had little right to complain, as they did, that

the real state of his disorder was purposely concealed from the world by

the English Government. It is more than probable that the constant

attempts observed to throw mystery and secrecy around them must have

tended to create the suspicion of escape, and to increase the consequent

rigour of the regulations maintained by the Governor.

Soon after the arrival of the priests Napoleon determined, we may suppose

partly in jest, to elevate one of them to the dignity of bishop, and he

chose for a diocese the Jumna. "The last box brought from Europe had

been broken open," says Antommarchi; "it contained the vases and church

ornaments. "Stop," said Napoleon, "this is the property of St. Peter;

have a care who touches it; send for the abbes--but talking of the abbes,

do you know that the Cardinal [Fesch] is a poor creature? He sends me

missionaries and propagandists, as if I were a penitent, and as if a

whole string of their Eminences had not always attended at my chapel.

I will do what he ought to have done; I possess the right of investiture,

and I shall use it." Abbe Buonavita was just entering the room, "'I give

you the episcopal mitre.'--'Sire!'--'I restore it to you; you shall wear

it in spite of the heretics; they will not again take it from you.'--

'But, Sire!'--'I cannot add to it so rich a benefice as that of Valencia,

which Suchet had given you, but at any rate your see shall be secure from

the chances of battles. I appoint you Bishop of--let me see--of the

Jumna. The vast countries through which that river flows were on the

point of entering into alliance with me--all was in readiness, all were

going to march. We were about to give the finishing blow to England."

The speech concluded with an order to Count Montholon to procure the

necessary dress for the abbe in order to strike with awe all the

heretics. The upshot of the whole was, that the scarlet and violet

coloured clothes necessary to furnish the new bishop with the only

valuable portion of his temporalities, his dress, could not be procured

in the island, and the abbe remained an abbe in spite of the investiture,

and the whole farce was forgotten.

We occasionally see the Exile in better moods, when he listened to the

voice of reason, and thought less of the annoyances inseparable from the

state to which his ambition, or as he himself always averred, his

destiny, had reduced him. He had for a long time debarred himself from

all exercise, having, as he expressed it, determined not to expose

himself to the insult of being accompanied on his ride by a British

officer; or the possibility of being challenged by a sentinel. One day

when he complained of his inactive life his medical attendant recommended

the exercise of digging the ground; the idea was instantly seized upon by

Napoleon with his characteristic ardour. Noverraz, his chasseur, who had

been formerly accustomed to rural occupations, was honoured with the

title of head gardener, and under his directions Napoleon proceeded to

work with great vigour. He sent for Antommarchi to witness his newly

acquired dexterity in the use of the spade. "Well, Doctor," said he to

him, "are you satisfied with your patient--is he obedient enough? This

is better than your pills, Dottoraccio; you shall not physic me any

more." At first he soon got fatigued, and complained much of the

weakness of his body and delicacy of his hands; but "never mind," said

he, "I have always accustomed my body to bend to my will, and I shall

bring it to do so now, and inure it to the exercise." He soon grew fond

of his new employment, and pressed all the inhabitants of Longwood into

the service. Even the ladies had great difficulty to avoid being set to

work. He laughed at them, urged them, entreated them, and used all his

arts of persuasion, particularly with Madame Bertrand. He assured her

that the exercise of gardening was much better than all the doctor's

prescriptions--that it was in fact one of his prescriptions. But in this

instance his eloquence failed in its effect, and he was obliged, though

with much reluctance, to desist from his attempts to make lady gardeners.

But in recompense he had willing labourers on the part of the gentlemen.

Antommarchi says, "The Emperor urged us, excited us, and everything

around us soon assumed a different aspect. Here was an excavation, there

a basin or a road. We made alleys, grottoes, cascades; the appearance of

the ground had now some life and diversity. We planted willows, oaks,

peach-trees, to give a little shade round the house. Having completed

the ornamental part of our labours we turned to the useful. We divided

the ground, we manured it, and sowed it with abundance of beans, peas,

and every vegetable that grows in the island." In the course of their

labours they found that a tank would be of great use to hold water, which

might be brought by pipes from a spring at a distance of 3000 feet.

For this laborious attempt it was absolutely necessary to procure

additional forces, and a party of Chinese, of whom there are many on the

island, was engaged to help them. These people were much amused at

Napoleon's working-dress, which was a jacket and large trousers, with an

enormous straw hat to shield him from the sun, and sandals. He pitied

those poor fellows who suffered from the heat of the sun, and made each

of them a present of a large hat like his own. After much exertion the

basin was finished, the pipes laid, and the water began to flow into it.

Napoleon stocked his pond with gold-fish, which he placed in it with his

own hands. He would remain by the pond for hours together, at a time

when he was so weak that he could hardly support himself. He would amuse

himself by following the motion of the fishes, throwing bread to them,

studying their ways, taking an interest in their loves and their

quarrels, and endeavouring with anxiety to find out points of resemblance

between their motives and those of mankind. He often sent for his

attendants to communicate his remarks to them, and directed their

observations to any peculiarities he had observed. His favourites at

last sickened, they struggled, floated on the water, and died one after

another. He was deeply affected by this, and remarked to Antommarchi,

"You see very well that there is a fatality attached to me. Everything I

love, everything that helongs to me, is immediately struck: heaven and

mankind unite to persecute me." From this time he visited them daily in

spite of sickness or bad weather, nor did his anxiety diminish until it

was discovered that a coppery cement, with which the bottom of the basin

was plastered, had poisoned the water. The fish which were not yet dead

were then taken out and put into a tub.

Napoleon appears to have taken peculiar interest in observing the

instincts of animals, and comparing their practices and propensities with

those of men. A rainy day, during which the digging of the tank could

not be proceeded with, gave occasion for some observations on the actions

of a number of ants, which had made a way into his bedroom, climbed upon

a table on which some sugar usually stood, and taken possession of the

sugar-basin. He would not allow the industrious little insects to be

disturbed in their plans; but he now and then moved the sugar, followed

their manoeuvres, and admired the activity and industry they displayed

until they found it again; this they had been sometimes even two or three

days in effecting, though they always succeeded at last. He then

surrounded the basin with water, but the ants still reached it; he

finally employed vinegar, and the insects were unable to get through the

new obstacle.

But the slight activity of mind that now remained to him was soon to be

exchanged for the languor and gloom of sickness, with but few intervals

between positive suffering and the most distressing lowness of spirits.

Towards the end of the year 1820 he walked with difficulty, and required

assistance even to reach a chair in his garden. He became nearly

incapable of the slightest action; his legs swelled; the pains in his

side and back were increased; he was troubled with nausea, profuse

sweats, loss of appetite, and was subject to frequent faintings. "Here

I am, Doctor," said he one day, "at my last cast. No more energy and

strength left: I bend under the load . . . I am going. I feel that

my hour is come."

Some days after, as he lay on his couch, he feelingly expressed to

Antommarchi the vast change which had taken place within him. He

recalled for a few moments the vivid recollection of past times, and

compared his former energy with the weakness which he was then sinking

under.

The news of the death of his sister Elisa also affected him deeply.

After a struggle with his feelings, which had nearly overpowered him, he

rose, supported himself on Antommarchi's arm; and regarding him

steadfastly, said, "Well, Doctor! you see Elisa has just shown me the

way. Death, which seemed to have forgotten my family, has begun to

strike it; my turn cannot be far off. What think you?"--"Your Majesty is

in no danger: you are still reserved for some glorious enterprise."--

"Ah, Doctor! I have neither strength nor activity nor energy; I am no

longer Napoleon. You strive in vain to give me hopes, to recall life

ready to expire. Your care can do nothing in spite of fate: it is

immovable: there is no appeal from its decisions. The next person of our

family who will follow Elisa to the tomb is that great Napoleon who

hardly exists, who bends under the yoke, and who still, nevertheless

keeps Europe in alarm. Behold, my good friend, how I look on my

situation! As for me, all is over: I repeat it to you, my days will soon

close on this miserable rock."--"We returned," says Antommarchi, "into

his chamber. Napoleon lay down' in bed. 'Close my windows,' he said;

leave me to myself; I will send for you by-and-by. What a delightful

thing rest is! I would not exchange it for all the thrones in the world!

What an alteration! How I am fallen! I, whose activity was boundless,

whose mind never slumbered, am now plunged into a lethargic stupor, so

that it requires an effort even to raise my eyelids. I sometimes

dictated to four or five secretaries, who wrote as fast as words could be

uttered, but then I was NAPOLEON--now I am no longer anything. My

strength--my faculties forsake me. I do not live--I merely exist.'"

From this period the existence of Napoleon was evidently drawing to a

close his days were counted. Whole hours, and even days, were either

passed in gloomy silence or spent in pain, accompanied by distressing

coughs, and all the melancholy signs of the approach of death. He made a

last effort to ride a few miles round Longwood on the 22d of January

1821, but it exhausted his strength, and from that time his only exercise

was in the calash. Even that slight motion soon became too fatiguing.

He now kept his room, and no longer stirred out. His disorder and his

weakness increased upon him. He still was able to eat something, but

very little, and with a worse appetite than ever. "Ah! doctor," he

exclaimed, "how I suffer! Why did the cannon-balls spare me only to die

in this deplorable manner? I that was so active, so alert, can now

scarcely raise my eyelids!"

His last airing was on the 17th of March. The disease increased, and

Antommarchi, who was much alarmed, obtained with some difficulty

permission to see an English physician. He held a consultation, on the

26th of March, with Dr. Arnott of the 20th Regiment; but Napoleon still

refused to take medicine, and often repeated his favourite saying:

"Everything that must happen is written down our hour is marked, and it

is not in our power to take from time a portion which nature refuses us."

He continued to grow worse, and at last consented to see Dr. Arnott,

whose first visit was on the 1st of April He was introduced into the

chamber of the patient, which was darkened, and into which Napoleon did

not suffer any light to be brought, examined his pulse and the other

symptoms, and was requested to repeat his visit the next day. Napoleon

was now within a month of his death, and although he occasionally spoke

with the eloquence and vehemence he had so often exhibited, his mind was

evidently giving way. The reported appearance of a comet was taken as a

token of his death. He was excited, and exclaimed with emotion,

"A comet! that was the precursor of the death of Caesar."

On the 3d of April the symptoms of the disorder had become so alarming

that Antommarchi informed Bertrand and Montholon he thought Napoleon's

danger imminent, and that Napoleon ought to take steps to put his affairs

in order. He was now attacked by fever and by violent thirst, which

often interrupted his sleep in the night. On the 14th Napoleon found

himself in better spirits, and talked with Dr. Arnott on the merits of

Marlborough, whose Campaigns he desired him to present to the 20th

Regiment, learning that they did not, possess a copy in their library.

On the 15th of April Napoleon's doors were closed to all but Montholon

and Marchand, and it appeared that he had been making his Will. On the

19th he was better, was free from pain, sat up, and ate a little. He was

in good spirits, and wished them to read to him. As General Montholon

with the others expressed his satisfaction at this improvement he smiled

gently, and said, "You deceive yourselves, my friends: I am, it is true,

somewhat better, but I feel no less that my end draws near. When I am

dead you will have the agreeable consolation of returning to Europe. One

will meet his relations, another his friends; and as for me, I shall

behold my brave companions-in-arms in the Elysian Fields. Yes," he went

on, raising his voice, "Kleber, Desaix, Bessieres, Duroc, Ney, Murat,

Massena, Berthier, all will come to greet me: they will talk to me of

what we have done together. I will recount to them the latest events of

my life. On seeing me they will become once more intoxicated with

enthusiasm and glory. We will discourse of our wars with the Scipios,

Hannibal, Caesar, and Frederick--there will be a satisfaction in that:

unless," he added, laughing bitterly, "they should be alarmed below to

see so many warriors assembled together!"

He addressed Dr. Arnott, who came in while he was speaking, on the

treatment he had received from England said that she had violated every

sacred right in making him prisoner, that he should have been much better

treated in Russia, Austria, or even Prussia; that he was sent to the

horrible rock of St. Helena on purpose to die; that he had been purposely

placed on the most uninhabitable spot of that inhospitable island, and

kept six years a close prisoner, and that Sir Hudson Lowe was his

executioner. He concluded with these words: "You will end like the proud

republic of Venice; and I, dying upon this dreary rock, away from those I

hold dear, and deprived of everything, bequeath the opprobrium and horror

of my death to the reigning family of England."

On the 21st Napoleon gave directions to the priest who was in attendance

as to the manner in which he would be placed to lie in state after his

death; and finding his religious attendant had never officiated in such a

solemnity he gave the most minute instructions for the mode of conducting

it. He afterwards declared that he would die, as he was born a Catholic,

and desired that mass should be said by his body, and the customary

ceremonies should be performed every day until his burial. The

expression of his face was earnest and convulsive; he saw Antommarchi

watching the contractions which he underwent, when his eye caught some

indication that displeased him. "You are above these weaknesses; but

what would you have? I am neither philosopher nor physician. I believe

in God; I am of the religion of my fathers; every one cannot be an

atheist who pleases." Then turning to the priest--"I was born in the

Catholic religion. I wish to fulfil the duties which it imposes, and to

receive the succour which it administers. You will say mass every day in

the adjoining chapel, and you will expose the Holy Sacrament for forty

hours. After I am dead you will place your altar at my head in the

funeral chamber; you will continue to celebrate mass, and perform all the

customary ceremonies; you will not cease till I am laid in the ground."

The Abbe (Vignale) withdrew; Napoleon reproved his fellow-countryman for

his supposed incredulity. "Can you carry it to this point? Can you

disbelieve in God? Everything proclaims His existence; and, besides, the

greatest minds have thought so."--"But, Sire, I have never called it in

question. I was attending to the progress of the fever: your Majesty

fancied you saw in my features an expression which they had not."--

"You are a physician, Doctor," he replied laughingly; "these folks," he

added, half to himself, "are conversant only with matter; they will

believe in nothing beyond."

In the afternoon of the 25th he was better; but being left alone, a

sudden fancy possessed him to eat. He called for fruits, wine, tried a

biscuit, then swallowed some champagne, seized a bunch of grapes, and

burst into a fit of laughter as soon as he saw Antommarchi return. The

physician ordered away the dessert, and found fault with the maitre

d'hotel; but the mischief was done, the fever returned and became

violent. The Emperor was now on his death-bed, but he testified concern

for every one. He asked Antommarchi if 500 guineas would satisfy the

English physician, and if he himself would like to serve Maria Louisa in

quality of a physician? "She is my wife, the first Princess in Europe,

and after me you should serve no one else." Antommarchi expressed his

acknowledgments. The fever continued unabated, with violent thirst and

cold in the feet. On the 27th he determined to remove from the small

chamber into the salon. They were preparing to carry him. "No," he

said, "not until I am dead; for the present it will be sufficient if you

support me."

Between the 27th and 28th the Emperor passed a very bad night; the fever

increased, coldness spread over his limbs, his strength was quite gone.

He spoke a few words of encouragement to Antommarchi; then in a tone of

perfect calmness and composure he delivered to him the following

instructions: "After my death, which cannot be far off, I wish you to

open my body: I wish also, nay, I require, that you will not suffer any

English physician to touch me. If, however, you find it indispensable to

have some one to assist you, Dr. Arnott is the only one I am willing you

should employ. I am desirous, further, that you should take out my

heart, that you put it in spirits of wine, and that you carry it to Parma

to my dear Maria Louisa: you will tell her how tenderly I have loved her,

that I have never ceased to love her; and you will report to her all that

you have witnessed, all that relates to my situation and my death. I

recommend you, above all, carefully to examine my stomach, to make an.

exact detailed report of it, which you will convey to my son. The

vomitings which succeed each other without intermission lead me to

suppose that the stomach is the one of my organs which is the most

deranged, and I am inclined to believe that it is affected with the

disease which conducted my father to the grave,--I mean a cancer in

the lower stomach. What think you?" His physician hesitating, he

continued--"I have not doubted this since I found the sickness become

frequent and obstinate. It is nevertheless well worthy of remark that I

have always had a stomach of iron, that I have felt no inconvenience

from this organ till latterly, and that whereas my father was fond of

high-seasoned dishes and spirituous liquors, I have never been able to

make use of them. Be it as it may, I entreat, I charge you to neglect

nothing in such an examination, in order that when you see my son you

may communicate the result of your observations to him, and point out

the most suitable remedies. When I am no more you will repair to Rome;

you will find out my mother and my family. You will give them an account

of all you have observed relative to my situation, my disorder, and my

death on this remote and miserable rock; you will tell them that the

great Napoleon expired in the most deplorable state, wanting everything,

abandoned to himself and his glory." It was ten in the forenoon; after

this the fever abated, and he fell into a sort of doze.

The Emperor passed a very bad night, and could not sleep. He grew

light-headed and talked incoherently; still the fever had abated in its

violence. Towards morning the hiccough began to torment him, the fever

increased, and he became quite delirious. He spoke of his complaint, and

called upon Baxter (the Governor's physician) to appear, to come and see

the truth of his reports. Then all at once fancying O'Meara present, he

imagined a dialogue between them, throwing a weight of odium on the

English policy. The fever having subsided, his hearing became distinct;

he grew calm, and entered into some further conversation on what was to

be done after his death. He felt thirsty, and drank a large quantity of

cold water. "If fate should determine that I shall recover, I would

raise a monument on the spot where this water gushes out: I would crown

the fountain in memory of the comfort which it has afforded me. If I

die, and they should not proscribe my remains as they have proscribed my

person, I should desire to be buried with my ancestors in the cathedral

of Ajaccio, in Corsica. But if I am not allowed to repose where I was

born, why, then, let them bury me at the spot where this fine and

refreshing water flows." This request was afterwards complied with.

He remained nearly in the same state for some days. On the 1st of May he

was delirious nearly all day, and suffered dreadful vomitings. He took

two small biscuits and a few drops of red wine. On the 2d he was rather

quieter, and the alarming symptoms diminished a little. At 2 P.M.,

however, he had a paroxysm of fever, and became again delirious. He

talked to himself of France, of his dear son, of some of his old

companions-in-arms. At times he was evidently in imagination on the

field of battle. "Stengel!" he cried; "Desaix! Massena! Ah! victory

is declaring itself! run--rush forward--press the charge!--they are

ours!"

"I was listening," says Dr. Antommarchi, "and following the progress of

that painful agony in the deepest distress, when Napoleon, suddenly

collecting his strength, jumped on the floor, and would absolutely go

down into the garden to take a walk. I ran to receive him in my arms,

but his legs bent under the weight of his body; he fell backwards, and I

had the mortification of being unable to prevent his falling. We raised

him up and entreated him to get into bed again; but he did not recognise

anybody, and began to storm and fall into a violent passion. He was

unconscious, and anxiously desired to walk in the garden. In the course

of the day, however, he became more collected, and again spoke of his

disease, and the precise anatomical examination he wished to be made of

his body after death. He had a fancy that this might be useful to his

son." "The physicians of Montpelier," he said to Antommarchi, "announced

that the scirrhosis in the pylorus would be hereditary in my family;

their report is, I believe, in the hands of my brother Louis; ask for it

and compare it with your own observations on my case, in order that my

son may be saved from this cruel disease. You will see him, Doctor, and

you will point out to him what is best to do, and will save him from the

cruel sufferings I now experience. This is the last service I ask of

you." Later in the day he said, "Doctor, I am very ill--I feel that I am

going to die."

The last time Napoleon spoke, except to utter a few short unconnected

words, was on the 3d of May. It was in the afternoon, and he had

requested his attendants, in case of his losing consciousness, not to

allow any English physician to approach him except Dr. Arnott. "I am

going to die," said he, "and you to return to Europe; I must give you

some advice as to the line of conduct you are to pursue. You have shared

my exile, you will be faithful to my memory, and will not do anything

that may injure it. I have sanctioned all proper principles, and infused

them into my laws and acts; I have not omitted a single one.

Unfortunately, however, the circumstances in which I was placed were

arduous, and I was obliged to act with severity, and to postpone the

execution of my plans. Our reverses occurred; I could not unbend the

bow; and France has been deprived of the liberal institutions I intended

to give her. She judges me with indulgence; she feels grateful for my

intentions; she cherishes my name and my victories. Imitate her example,

be faithful to the opinions we have defended, and to the glory we have

acquired: any other course can only lead to shame and confusion."

From this moment it does not appear that Napoleon showed any signs of

understanding what was going forward around him. His weakness increased

every moment, and a harassing hiccough continued until death took place.

The day before that event a fearful tempest threatened to destroy

everything about Longwood. The plantations were torn up by the roots,

and it was particularly remarked that a willow, under which Napoleon

usually sat to enjoy the fresh air, had fallen. "It seemed," says

Antommarchi, "as if none of the things the Emperor valued were to survive

him." On the day of his death Madame Bertrand, who had not left his

bedside, sent for her children to take a last farewell of Napoleon. The

scene which ensued was affecting: the children ran to the bed, kissed the

hands of Napoleon, and covered them with tears. One of the children

fainted, and all had to be carried from the spot. "We all," says

Antommarchi, "mixed our lamentations with theirs: we all felt the same

anguish, the same cruel foreboding of the approach of the fatal instant,

which every minute accelerated." The favourite valet, Noverraz, who had

been for some time very ill, when he heard of the state in which Napoleon

was, caused himself to be carried downstairs, and entered the apartment

in tears. He was with great difficulty prevailed upon to leave the room:

he was in a delirious state, and he fancied his master was threatened

with danger, and was calling upon him for assistance: he said he would

not leave him but would fight and die for him. But Napoleon was now

insensible to the tears of his servants; he had scarcely spoken for two

days; early in the morning he articulated a few broken sentences, among

which the only words distinguishable were, "tete d'armee," the last that

ever left his lips, and which indicated the tenor of his fancies. The

day passed in convulsive movements and low moanings, with occasionally a

loud shriek, and the dismal scene closed just before six in the evening.

A slight froth covered his lips, and he was no more.

After he had been dead about six hours Antommarchi had the body carefully

washed and laid out on another bed. The executors then proceeded to

examine two codicils which were directed to be opened immediately after

the Emperor's decease. The one related to the gratuities which he

intended out of his private purse for the different individuals of his

household, and to the alms which he wished to be distributed among the

poor of St. Helena; the other contained his last wish that "his ashes

should repose on the banks of the Seine, in the midst of the French

people whom he had loved so well." The executors notified this request

to the Governor, who stated that his orders were that the body was to,

remain on the island. On the next day, after taking a plaster cast of

the face of Napoleon, Antommarchi proceeded to open the body in the

presence of Sir Thomas Reade, some staff officers, and eight medical men.

The Emperor had intended his hair (which was of a chestnut colour) for

presents to the different members of his family, and it was cut off and

kept for this purpose.