A friend of mine, a Bengal civilian, gave a good account of an expedition he made into the interior for about three hundred miles from the frontier with a Madras civilian. They got deer in abundance, zebra, and Guinea fowls, and saw lions in flocks. Fancy twelve of the latter gambling together near a small pool of water. They travelled in a waggon drawn by twenty bullocks, and took three Hottentot boys with them as servants, and fifteen horses, of which they lost all but one by theft or accident. He did not go, by many hundred miles, as far into the interior as Mr. Harris, not, in fact, into the hunting ground for elephants and camelopards: he spoke of Harris’s work, which is very interesting: he knew Mr. Harris, says he is a fine fellow, and from what he saw believes his accounts to be unexaggerated. What a brilliant country for sport!
One of the gentlemen of this party broke his collar-bone: they met with some Italians who came to them for protection; they also met with twelve lions, upon which they made off and got home again as fast as they could. My tale is a lame one; I have forgotten their adventures, but suppose the twelve lions did not eat the twenty bullocks, or how could the party have got home again?
7th.—Quitted Cape Town on a fine and powerful wind; we were all in good spirits; the change had done us good, and we had gathered fresh patience—the worst part of the voyage was over—for a man in bad health what a trial is that voyage from Calcutta to the Cape!
12th.—Very cold weather: this frigate-built ship is going nine knots an hour, and rolling her main chains under water. In the evening, as I was playing with the children on deck at oranges and lemons, we were all thrown down from the ship having rolled heavily; her mizen-top-gallant mast and the main-top-gallant mast both broke; one spar fell overboard, and the broken masts hung in the rigging.
18th.—At 8 A.M. we arrived at St. Helena: the view of the island is very impressive; it rises abruptly from the sea—a mass of wild rocks, the heavy breakers lashing them; there appears to be no shore, the waves break directly against the rocks. The highest point is, I believe, two thousand feet; the island appears bare and desolate as you approach it. A white heavy cloud hung over the highest part of the mountain; the morning was beautiful, and many vessels were at anchor. I sketched the island when off Barn’s Point. The poles of the flagstaffs still remain, on which a flag was hoisted whenever the emperor appeared, that it might tell of his whereabouts, giving him the unpleasant feeling that spies were perpetually around him. I went on shore in a bumboat that had come alongside with shells. Landing is difficult at times when the waves run high; if you were to miss your footing on the jetty from the rising and sinking of the boat, you would fall in, and there would be little chance of your being brought up again. There are only two points on the island on which it is possible to land, namely, this jetty and one place on the opposite side, both of which are strongly guarded by artillery. Batteries bristle up all over the rock like quills on a porcupine. The battery on the top of Ladder Hill may be reached by the road that winds up its side, or by the perpendicular ladder of six hundred and thirty-six steps. We went to Mr. Solomon’s Hotel, and ordered a late dinner; the prices at his shop and at the next door are very high: he asked twelve shillings for articles which I had purchased for five at the Cape.
Procured a pass for the tomb, and a ticket for Longwood, for which we paid three shillings each. Next came a carriage drawn by two strong horses, for which they charged three pounds. We ascended the hill from James’s Hotel; from the summit, as you look down, the view is remarkably beautiful; the town lying in the space between the two hills, with the ocean in front, and a great number of fine vessels at anchor. The roads are good, and where they run by the side of a precipice, are defended by stone walls.
The tomb of the emperor is situated in a quiet retired spot at the foot of and between two hills. Three plain large flag-stones, taken from the kitchen at Longwood, cover the remains of Napoleon: there is no inscription, nor does there need one; the tomb is raised about four inches from the ground, and surrounded by an iron palisade formed at the top into spearheads. Within the palisade is still seen a geranium, planted by one of the ladies who shared his exile. The old willow has fallen, and lies across the railing of the tomb, withered, dead, and leafless. Many young willows reared from the old tree shade the tomb, and every care is taken of the place by an old soldier, who attends to open the gate, and who offers to visitors the water from the stream which now flows out of the hill by the side of the tomb. Its course was formerly across the spot where the tomb is now placed; it was turned to the side to render it less damp: the water is remarkably pure, bright, and tasteless. It was under these willows, and by the side of this little clear stream that Buonaparte used to pass his days in reading, and this spot he selected as his burial-place.
A book is here kept in which visitors insert their names: many pages were filled by the French with lamentations over their emperor, and execrations upon the English. Many people have made a pilgrimage from France to visit the tomb, and on their arrival have given way to the most frantic grief and lamentations.
Having pleased the old soldier who has charge of the tomb, with a present in return for some slips of the willow, we went to a small and neat cottage hard-by for grapes and refreshment. It is inhabited by a respectable widow, who, by offering refreshment to visitors, makes a good income for herself and family. We had grapes, peaches, and pears, all inferior, very inferior to the fruit at the Cape. After tiffin we proceeded to Longwood, and passed several very picturesque points on the road. Around Longwood there are more trees, and the appearance of the country is less desolate than in other parts of the island. We were first taken to the old house in which the emperor lived; it is a wretched place, and must ever have been the same. The room into which you enter was used as a billiard-room: the dining-room and the study are wretched holes. The emperor’s bed-room and bath is now a stable. In the room in which Buonaparte expired is placed a corn-mill! I remember having seen a picture of this room: the body of the emperor was lying near the window from which the light fell upon the face of the corpse. The picture interested me greatly at the time, and was vividly brought to my recollection as I stood before the window, whilst in imagination the scene passed before me. How great was the power of that man! with what jealous care the English guarded him! No wonder the women used to frighten their children into quietness by the threat that Buonaparte would come and eat them up, when the men held him in such awe. Who can stand on the desolate and picturesque spot where the emperor lies buried, and not feel for him who rests beneath? How much he must have suffered during his sentry-watched rambles on that island, almost for ever within hearing of the eternal roar of the breakers, and viewing daily the vessels departing for Europe!
In the grounds by the side of the house are some oak-trees planted by his own hands; there is also a fish-pond, near which was a birdcage. The emperor used to sit here under the firs, but as he found the wind very bleak, a mud wall was raised to protect the spot from the sharp gales of the sea. After the death of Napoleon the birdcage sold for £175.