This means a great amount of thinking and planning; for if one will go over these dictations and writings to see how they were made, he will find that they are not slovenly in arrangement or loose in style. On the contrary, they are concise, logical, and frequently vivid. They are full of errors, it is true, but that is due to the fact that Napoleon had not at hand any official documents for making history. He depended almost entirely on his memory. The books and maps he had, he used diligently, but his supply was limited and unsatisfactory.
It must be remembered, too, that this work was done under great physical difficulties. He was suffering keenly much of the time after he reached the island. Even for a well man, working under favorable circumstances, the literary output of Napoleon at St. Helena would be creditable. For one in his circumstances it was extraordinary. A look at it is the best possible refutation of the common notion that he spent his time at St. Helena fuming at Sir Hudson Lowe and “stewing himself in hot water,” to use the expression of the governor.
Before the end of 1820 it was certain that he could not live long. In December of that year the death of his sister Eliza was announced to him. “You see, Eliza has just shown me the way. Death, which had forgotten my family, has begun to strike it. My turn cannot be far off.” Nor was it. On May 5, 1821, he died.
His preparations for death were methodical and complete. During the last fortnight of April all his strength was spent in dictating to Montholon his last wishes. He even dictated, ten days before the end, the note which he wished sent to Sir Hudson Lowe to announce his death. The articles he had in his possession at Longwood he had wrapped up and ticketed with the names of the persons to whom he wished to leave them. His will remembered numbers of those whom he had loved or who had served him. Even the Chinese laborers then employed about the place were remembered. “Do not let them be forgotten. Let them have a few score of napoleons.”
NAPOLEON’S LAST DAY.
From a sculpture by Véla. This superb statue was exhibited in Paris at the Exhibition Universelle of 1867 (Italian section), and obtained the gold medal. It was purchased by the French Government, and is now at Versailles.
The will included a final word on certain questions on which he felt posterity ought distinctly to understand his position. He died, he said, in the apostolical Roman religion. He declared that he had always been pleased with Marie Louise, whom he besought to watch over his son. To this son, whose name recurs repeatedly in the will, he gave a motto—All for the French people. He died prematurely, he said, assassinated by the English oligarchy. The unfortunate results of the invasion of France he attributed to the treason of Marmont, Augereau, Talleyrand, and Lafayette. He defended the death of the Duc d’Enghien. “Under similar circumstances I should act in the same way.” This will is sufficient evidence that he died as he had lived, courageously and proudly, and inspired by a profound conviction of the justice of his own cause. In 1822 the French courts declared the will void.
They buried him in a valley beside a spring he loved, and though no monument but a willow marked the spot, perhaps no other grave in history is so well known. Certainly the magnificent mausoleum which marks his present resting place in Paris has never touched the imagination and the heart as did the humble willow-shaded mound in St. Helena.
