The number of French vessels that arrive every year at this island, almost solely for the purpose of visiting and weeping over the grave of him who formerly ruled France, and at one time almost held the destiny of the world in his grasp, is considerable. At this period of our visit, several French vessels, consisting of a brig of war, and others, were lying in the anchorage; and on the road to Longwood, parties of the crews of the several vessels were seen, and vehicles and horses of all descriptions were in requisition to convey the male, female, and infantile arrivals of that nation, to visit the reposing place of all that is mortal of “Le Grand Napoléon,” and to see the residence, or rather the prison, of the late emperor. To view this place, in its present degraded state, used as stables and barns, ought to cause an Englishman to blush at the want both of the finer feelings and generosity of his nation towards the departed greatness of the ex-emperor, whose terror terminated with his death. And who would not feel for the visitors of a nation who idolize his memory, when they view a spot, so sacred to them, so degraded by us? What their sentiments are at the time, none but those who feel like them can imagine.
I cannot refrain from quoting an American author, who makes the following observation when on a visit to St. Helena. “Who has not admired the power of genius that raised him to his glory? Who did not feel some sympathy, at least, in the depth of his fall? Who did not commiserate him in the distance and desolateness of his exile? And who, with the vivid impressions of the wretchedness and discomfort of his captivity, forced upon them by the scene in the midst of which we now were, would not be disposed to believe every charge of unkindness and oppression that has been preferred against his keepers? However different the state of the establishment might have been when inhabited by Napoleon, all the associations of a visitor, with his situation during the time, take their colour from what is seen; and the rooms should have been preserved in the condition in which they were left, or the whole should have been razed to the ground.”
CHAPTER XII.
Tomb of Napoleon—The willows—Contrasted feelings of the French and English visitors to Buonaparte’s grave—Fish—Sail from St. Helena—Island of Ascension—Frigate birds—Shark sucking a Pilot Fish—The Sargasso weed—Condition of the Crowned pigeons—A swallow captured during migration—Temperature—Arrival at Gravesend.
The day of our arrival we visited the place of repose of the mortal remains of Napoleon. The rising road towards Longwood was cut on the surface of a lofty, barren hill, gradually ascending as we advanced, which afforded a sterile view, varied by a few scattered shrubs of Cactus, Furze-bushes, and Frocoides, bestowing some animation by their blossoms to the arid soil, which barely seemed capable of affording them nourishment. The varying view of the town and shipping on the ascent, formed a picturesque scene, and gave some interest to the monotonous character of the country. On advancing, the distant view of a cascade, which falls into a small stream over a fresh-looking green sward, and which supplies the shipping with that necessary article of life, is a pleasing sight, the water being conveyed to the landing-place at the town by means of iron pipes.
The Briars is passed on the right, but much altered in appearance since it was honoured by being the temporary residence of the Corsican. There are some plantations of mulberry-trees at this place, for the purpose of introducing the cultivation of silk on the island; but which, I should suppose, will never succeed to any extent.
Before reaching the grave, the eye is charmed by the deep glens, plantations, and neat houses. The furze-bushes with their yellow blossoms, the bramble, and other European plants, reminded the voyager of home and all its endearing charms. The hedges of the aloe, with its high stem surmounted by clusters of flowers, together with the carolling of the numerous birds from all countries, which had been introduced and set at liberty on the island, increased the delight which had been already experienced.[82] The pheasant and partridge have also been introduced, and thrive well. At last, on arriving at a more level road, the beautiful fertile vale was seen, descending from Huyt’s Gate, but becoming, as it advances towards the sea, a series of deep, rugged and romantic ravines, destitute of any vegetation, and varied by the different tints afforded by the volcanic strata.
The grave of Napoleon, when descried from the height above, has a pleasing aspect, and the view of it from that situation is very picturesque. A pathway leads to the place; and by a gradual descent the visitor arrives at the tomb of Napoleon, overshadowed by the weeping willows. About the spot are gay hedges, brilliant with the blossoms of the scarlet geraniums, the flowers of a pretty Althæa, of a straw colour, and others. The green-sward around the tomb gives a freshness and beauty to this spot, consecrated by the late ruler of thousands, who now reposes in the solemn stillness of death, under the shade of his chosen, mournful, but fast-perishing trees.
The willows show evident symptoms of age. They seem to be getting more and more thin of branches. Since a visit I made to this spot, in February, 1831, another of the trees has perished, although the trunk still remains erect in its place. Thus, of five trees (the original number) only three now remain: their age is about thirty-five years; they were planted by Mr. Tarbut, a resident at St. Helena, and former possessor of the spot we were now visiting. A number of slips from the old trees have been planted on the opposite side of the grave, and being in a flourishing condition[83] on the death of the old trees, the stock will be perpetuated by the young ones. There are also several cypresses planted in the inclosure, with every appearance of becoming handsome trees.