On entering a wicket-gate, a short path leads to a paling, inclosing a green lawn, in which, surrounded by a plain cast-iron railing, is the vault in which the body of Napoleon, arrayed in full uniform, is deposited, inclosed in four coffins. The vault is extensive, and covered by three plain Portland stones taken from the kitchen of the new house at Longwood,[84] and cemented together. An order from the town-major enables strangers to enter the inclosure, procure slips of the willow, and, one of the cast-iron railings surrounding the vault being broken, either accidentally or on purpose, the attendant will permit visitors to enter and tread over him now dead, who, when living, trod on the necks of monarchs.
Should there be visitors of both the French and English nations at the sepulchre of Napoleon, it is interesting to observe the feelings produced in the minds of both: the first regarding the spot as both sacred and classic, by the presence of the mortal remains of one, the former ruler of their nation, and who, under the revolutionary flag, had gained so many laurels, which it was his fate to lose at Waterloo, against an allied army. He then found himself a voluntary prisoner, on board one of those British ships of war, which had, under the proud banner of Britain, cleared the ocean of his ships, and he at last died an exile on the rock of St. Helena. This affords a fine lesson to posterity, of a great genius, who having elevated himself to be the ruler of a powerful nation, fell, and died in captivity, through his over-ambition. The French shed tears on visiting the grave of their beloved emperor; and the album, kept at the tomb for the reception of the names and tributary effusions of the visitors gives ample evidence of the feelings which a visit to this spot produces in their minds, and displays the characteristic fervor of the nation.[85]
Such may be the feelings of the former; but the majority of the English display a recklessness of manner, or mere feelings of common curiosity, on visiting a place so interesting. No one ought to visit this spot without reflecting on the life of him, whose sceptre fell from his grasp, and left him to live and die an exile, attended only by a faithful few,—all they asked was
——“To divide
Every peril he must brave;
Sharing by the hero’s side
His fall, his exile, and his grave.”
Close to the grave is the clear spring whence the water for his use was procured, and on once visiting the spot, he selected it as his resting-place, should he die upon the island; a foreboding realized not a very long time after.
On returning from our visit to the tomb, and dining, we took a walk about the town, and entered the small garden, kept in very neat order, dignified by the name of Botanic Garden; it affords a cool and agreeable promenade, but contains nothing to excite the attention of any one who had previously visited India.[86]
News having arrived at the island, of its having been changed from the Honourable the East India Company’s to the King’s government, much speculation has been excited in consequence both among the Company’s officers and residents. As may be expected, on such a subject, there is a great variety of opinions: the inhabitants enjoy their own notions, none of which will probably ever be realized. They are daily in expectation of news from England on the subject, to relieve them from suspense.