cleared the last projecting headland, the roadstead and the town came suddenly into view. At the same time the colors of the fort on Ladder Hill, and on board the admiral's ship the Vigo, of 74 guns, were seen fluttering at half-mast, denoting the death of some person of distinction.

of the most wondrous man of modern times. Suddenly coming out of the glare of a tropical sun into a partially darkened room, a few moments elapsed before the objects were properly defined. Gradually, as the contents of the apartment tumbled into shape, the person of Napoleon, dressed in While sailing into our berth, and after a plain green uniform, grew out of the comthe anchor had fixed us to the land, the re-parative gloom, and became the loadstar of ports of the cannon came upon us at inter-attraction. vals. Their sounds seemed bodeful of some great event. We all looked inquiringly for some explanation, but before any positive intelligence had reached the ship from the shore, surmise after surmise had given way to a settled conviction; for by one of those inscrutable impulses of the mind, every man in the Free Trader felt assured those island guns announced the death of Napoleon.

He was lying on a small brass tent bedstead, which had been with him in most of his campaigns. I found it impossible to withdraw my eyes for an instant from his countenance: it caused in me a sensation difficult to define, but the impression can never be forgotten. There was a crucifix on his breast, and by its side glittered a large diamond star, the brilliancy of which strangely contrasted with the pallid face of the dead. The skin was of a most intense whiteness, and looked like wax.

What struck me as most strange was the mean appearance of the surrounding furniture, and of the "getting up" of the ceremony. Few people in England, or indeed in France, would credit the dilapidated state of the apartment. It was literally swarming with rats and other vermin. There appeared, however, to be no want of respect to the memory of the dead hero, whatever might have been his treatment when living. But the knowledge of this tardy justice did not prevent a comparison

Our suspense was brief, for soon after the anchor was down, a shore boat came alongside, containing an official person, to demand the nature of our wants, and he confirmed our suspicions. This intelligence, although anticipated, created a feeling of disappointment, as every individual in the ship had speculated during the voyage upon the chance of seeing Napoleon alive. However, by an easy transition, now that he was dead, we wondered whether we should be permitted to witness his funeral; but as no communication was allowed from the ships in the roads to the shore between the hours of sundown and sunrise, we were obliged to pass the night in conjecture. Un-between his fallen state in that rat-pestered der these circumstances, we were scarcely prepared for the news that reached us early in the morning. It was a general notice to all strangers and residents, informing them that they were permitted to visit the island and witness the ceremony of the body of General Buonaparte as it lay in state.

After the lapse of six-and-twenty years, and now, when the passions of that mighty conflict which filled Europe in the early part of the century are extinct, it would be difficult to make the present generation comprehend the profound emotions which this news had upon those who, like ourselves happened to be at St. Helena at this eventful period. Consequently, on the second day after Napoleon's death, nearly every individual on the island, as well as those in the different vessels at anchor in the roads, repaired to Longwood, the place where he died.

chamber and the magnificence and power with which imagination invested him when living. And although it may be idle to compare the deeds of a great man with the appearance of the man himself, yet it is what most of us are prone to do; and on this occasion it was impossible to avoid falling into the practice, for possibly the results of a comparison could not be more striking. Napoleon at Austerlitz or Jena, with continental Europe at his feet, and Napoleon lying dead in that miserable, poverty-stricken room, presents to the dullest imagination a theme pregnant with emotion. It was indeed difficult to understand how, even by the proverbial instability of fortune, that insensible form lying in its utter helplessness, could ever have been the "Man of a thousand thrones

Who strew'd our earth with hostile bones."

It is a well-known fact, that after Napoleon's

Of course the house was thronged with body was opened, his heart was placed in a vessel people, but as the greatest order prevailed, in this room, and that during the night a rat deI was soon in the room with all that was left | voured a large portion of it.

Solemnly and sternly the reality forced it- pioneers were digging the grave, became an self upon all, and I felt that I was reading object of mingled curiosity and veneration; a journal of true romance, so absorbing, so second only in importance to the illustrious wretched, that if I was to confine my studies hero who was so soon to make it his abidto man, it would be unnecessary to peruse a ing place. It was close to a small spring, of second volume to grow perfect in know- which Napoleon always drank, and occaledge or reflection. sionally he breakfasted beneath the shade The time allowed for the visitors to re- of two willows that bend over the bubbling main in the chamber was very limited, and waters. The grave was singularly made. It condensed observation into a passing was formed very wide at the top, but sloped glimpse. This could not well have been gradually inwards, having the appearance otherwise, as every individual on the island of an inverted pyramid. The lowest part was anxious to obtain even a momentary was chambered to receive the coffin, and one view of one who had attracted so large a large stone covered the whole of the champortion of the attention of the world. And ber. It was said that this covering was tanot the least singular spectacle seen on that ken from the floor of the kitchen at Longday, was the motley group which Napo- wood, where it had been used as a hearthleon's fame had drawn around his funeral stone in front of the fire-place; though why couch. For although St. Helena on the it should have been removed for such a purmap may at first appear to be a secluded pose it is difficult to comprehend, for the spot, yet in reality it is not so. A glance island is not deficient of the requisite maor two is sufficient to assure us that it is terial. The remaining space was to be placed in the the centre of the great filled up with solid masonry, clamped tohighway of the world, where the necessities gether with bands of iron. These precauof commerce, and the wants and hazards tions, it appeared, were intended to prevent inseparable from a seafaring life, are the the removal of the body, as much at the means of bringing together the antipodes request of the French as of the governor of of the human race. And if the dense masses the island.

of people which thronged to his second Divested of the associations connected funeral at a more recent period, in his own with his fame, Napoleon's funeral at St. dear France, were wanting, their deficiency Helena was a simple, though heartfelt affair. in numbers was in some sort compensated His long agony on that sunburnt rock comby the variety of men; or if there was not manded the reverence of every beholder. a multitude, there was, at least, a medley of Consequently, on the 9th, all the inhabicurious gazers. tants and visitors on the island flocked to Foremost in intelligence were the French the line of march. Like many others, I and English; but apart from these stood selected a prominent position on the the wondering African negro,-the uncouth shoulders of a hill, from whence the solemn Hottentot from the Cape-the yellow Bra- procession could be traced, as it threaded zilian from South America-the fierce-look- its way through the gorges and ravines of ing Lascar from Bengal-and the quiet, in- this picturesque place, on its way to the offensive Chinese from remotest Asia. Some grave. The coffin was borne upon the of these knew but little of Napoleon's re- shoulders of English grenadiers, and follownown, but, being inoculated with the pre-ed by the soldiers who had contributed more vailing emotion, they came, like the more towards his downfall than those of any intellectual European, to gaze upon the other nation. Their solemn tread and embers of that dazzling meteor, the blaze of grave deportment contrasted strongly with which had so recently expired. the heartfelt sorrow of Count Montholon

The same tincture of corruption dyes all and General Bertrand, who bore the hero's mortality, and hero dust as well as com- pall. Madame Bertrand followed next, in mon clay soon becomes offensive in a tropi- tears, and then came Lady Lowe and her cal climate. Even on the second day after daughters, in mourning; the officers of the his death, it was already time he should have English men-of-war next, and then the been soldered up. With a knowledge of officers of the army; the Governor-General this fact, the Governor-General had order- and Admiral Lambert closing the rear. ed the funeral to take place on the 9th, The 66th and 20th Regiments of Infantry, thus allowing only four days to elapse be- the Artillery, and the Marines, were statween his death and his burial. tioned on the crests of the surrounding

In the meantime, the spot where the hills; and when the body was lowered inVOL. XIV. No. I.

5

to the tomb, three rounds of eleven guns the great bell of Notre Dame, which every were fircd. And thus the great soldier of now and then fell upon the ear, without France received the last tribute of respect mingling with the great tide of sound, but in honor of his achievements from the each vibration seemed distinct in its isolahands of his most constant, but, as he de- tion. It was impossible, from the vexed scribed them, the most generous of his and confused nature of the turmoil, arising enemies.

The last years of Napoleon's life, except so far as they derived a gloomy and awful importance from the remembrance of his terrific career of blood and power, were as insignificant as his first. He could neither act upon, nor be acted upon by the transactions of the world. He seemed to be buried alive. Kept as he was in close custody by a power, with whose strength it was useless to cope, and whose vigilance there was little chance of eluding.

from bells, guns, and drums, to form an idea whether the people were celebrating a holiday, a spectacle, or a revolution.

Most human feelings are contagious, and I was soon inoculated with a desire to mix with the crowd, and see what was going on. Accordingly, as soon as the diligence arrived at the Messagerie, I left my carpetbag in the custody of an official, and set forth to satisfy my curiosity. Once fairly in the throng, I was soon urged along the Place de la Bourse, and from thence up the On the following morning the sounds of Rue Vivienne to the Boulevard des Italilabor were heard from every quarter of the ens, happy in having availed myself of Free Trader, and the long drawn songs of any change, whether of sentiment or situathe mariners were rising in the cool quiet tion, which would rouse my half-frozen of the early dawn. Then commenced the blood into action, and enable me to comheavy toil which lifts the anchor from its pete with a temperature ten degrees below bed; the ship once more released from her freezing. hold upon the land, stood across the Atlan- Forward, forward, along the interminatic for England, and long ere noon the ble Boulevard, I was forced by the dense sun-blistered rock of St. Helena was shut mass, and extrication became hopeless. out from our view, by the rising waters in That broad thoroughfare seemed to be the which it seemed to submerge. And thus main channel through which flowed the ended the "memorable event" which form- living tide, and, as it was continually beed such a singular episode in the otherwise ing fed by the streets on either side, it ultimonotonous voyage of the Free Trader. mately was crowded to a dangerous degree.

At the magnificent church of the Magdeleine, a divided opinion acted upon the people, and gave me scope for action. I On an intensely cold morning, some followed that section whose destinies led twenty years after the occurrences above them to the Place de la Concorde, where I narrated, I was proceeding to Paris as fast had scarcely arrived, when preparations of as a Freneh diligence could carry me. Af- an uncommon description came at once ter passing through a long winter's night, into view.

But

cramped and stiffened for want of exercise, Salvos of artillery were still heard, or it was with feelings approaching delight rather they had never ceased; the bells. that I beheld the French capital. But as also tolled incessantly, and that intolerable the vehicle neared the gay metropolis, it beat of the French drum, mixed with the was impossible to avoid being surprised at noise arising from a crowd of thousands of the appearance of the populace. Every Frenchmen, was most bewildering. body was going towards Paris, no one ap- as well as the confusion would permit obpeared to be going in any other direction. servation of the surrounding objects, it The multitude increased as we progressed, seemed that, on each side of the broad and when the diligence entered the Boule- avenue of the Champs Elysées, large statues vard, it was with great difficulty the lum- had been raised, each symbolical of some bering vehicle was urged through the living mental attribute, such as justice, valor, mass. On either side of us was a dense fortitude, and the like, and between their crowd of heads, eagerness pictured on every colossal figures magnificent tripods of a countenance. Amid the jabber arising great height were erected, supporting vases from so large an assemblage, was heard the which were filled with flames. rolling sound of artillery, mingling strange- The spectacle had approached its crisis ly, nay wildly, with the solemn tolling of when I had arrived at the Place de la Con

corde, and my position afforded me a good as it may seem, when France was receiving view up the avenue. In the distance, from British generosity a boon which she dense columns of horse and foot soldiery could not obtain by any physical appliance, were slowly marching, proceeded by bands the law and medical students of Paris disof military music, playing solemn airs. played a base and infamous hostility against Column after column paraded by. The the country which was in the very act of whole chivalry of France had assembled to returning, with a noble and chivalrous sendo homage to some dearly-loved object, for timent, the undying token of her own suevery class of French soldiers had sent its premacy, and the humiliation of her enemies, representative, and every department of such expressions as A bas Palmerston, A the kingdom its deputy. The procession bas les Anglais, sounded oddly enough in appeared interminable. On came, in every an Englishman's ears, with these recollecvariety of uniform, the soldiers of Hoche, tions still throbbing in his memory. of Moreau, Jourdan, Massena, and Au- It was to do honor to those precious regereau, of Davoust, Ney, Murat, Kleber, mains that France, nay Europe, had assemand Kellermann. Fragments of all " arms" bled her thousands in the Champs Elysées of the Imperial Guard were there repre- on that day. His faults, as well as the unsented, strangely mingled with the pictu- bounded sacrifices made to his daring resque dresses of Mamelukes and guides. ambition, seemed to be forgotten. Men apAt length a moving tower of sable peared to point only to the bright and burnplumes, rolled by upon golden wheels, drawn ing spots in Napoleon's career, without reby sixteen horses. Immediately following collecting what they cost to France and the came the Royal Family of France and the world. It was a spectacle of a nation paygreat ministers of state, decorated with glit- ing homage in the names of freedom and tering stars and orders. honor to the representative of military power.

Twenty years back I had witnessed the funeral obsequies of this remarkable man, It has been said that French enthusiasm for of course, by this time, I knew that it is easily excited, and that it as easily cools, was the second burial of Napoleon at which seldom lasting long enough to ripen into the I was a chance spectator. Since then a more dignified sentiment of traditional great alteration had taken place in the af- veneration. Certainly it inconsistently fairs of Europe. A quarter of a century decreed the honor of national obsequies on of profound peace had rendered the entente Napoleon, whose fall was hailed by the cordiale apparently perfect. British ships great bulk of the nation, after the batof war no longer muzzled the mouth of every tle of Waterloo, as the term of their unFrench port from Dunkerque to Toulon. bounded sacrifices, and as the second dawn The correction was done, and the rod was of their public liberties. But little penetraburnt, and in the fulness of time came the tion was required to discover that curiosity crowning act of grace, when, as M. de Re- was the strongest feeling exhibited, or at musat stated in the Chambre des Deputés, the most, it was a galvanized excitementEngland had magnanimously consented to it wanted the reality of natural emotion. the proposal of the French nation, to return To those few, whose lot it was to witness the remains of Napoleon, thus surrendering

the trophy of the most unparalleled struggle weeks after the French frigate had taken her deparin modern history. And yet, incredible ture from St. Helena, and was nearing the coast of Europe, an English frigate hove in sight, and An amusing act of gasconade, the performance perceiving a French ship-of-war, she bore down of which rumor awarded to the Prince de Joinville, upon her, to speak her. From some unexplained was freely commented upon in naval circles about reason, the Prince imagined she might be sent to this period. It will be remembered, that his Royal capture the precious relic he had on board the Belle Highness was dispatched by the French government Poule, and rushing on the quarter-deck, he ordered in the Belle Poule, the finest frigate in their service, his crew to quarters, and prepared for action. A to convey the remains of Napoleon from St. Helena word, however, from the captain of the English frito France. After the exhumation of the body, which gate was enough to dispel the gallant prince's vain was performed in the presence of many English and alarms, and the explanations which soon followed, French officers, the features of Napoleon were re-afforded the British tars a hearty laugh at the discognised, contrary as it was stated, to French ex-torted view the Frenchman had of English faith. pectation. The coffin after being placed in a sump. This rumored bravado of the Prince, is neverthetuous one brought from Europe, was conveyed, after less in perfect keeping with his Bobadil pamphlet, many compliments upon the honor and good faith of published soon after his return with Napoleon's reEngland, on board the Belle Poule, which, with its mains, in which he attempts to show how easily he sacred freight soon after put to sea. The faith of could invade England, if he had only ships enough, perfide Albion was not so bad as expected. A few with men of the right sort to man them.

treasured in the depths of men's minds, and registered in the history of the world.

both the burials of Napoleon, this must have been apparent. They could not fail to note the contrast between the gorgeous As the catafalque slowly passed by, over display of the second ceremony, and the the bridge, along the Quay d'Orsay, until simple, but deeply heartfelt, funeral at St. it was finally hidden from the view by the Helena. In Paris every thing seemed un- trees of the Esplanade of the Invalides, it real. For a burial, the second ceremony was evident, that let his countrymen do was too far removed from the death; people, what they would, let them fire their cannon, if they had not forgotten, had ceased to sound their trumpets, unfold the dusty banlament for him. The charger led before the ners of past wars, they failed to impart to hero's hearse had never borne the hero the memory of the vanquished of WaterAnd for a commemoration it was much too loo a becoming character; their funeral cesoon True, the remembrance of his reverses, remony wanted moral grandeur; they and his sufferings at St. Helena commanded converted into a theatrical show, what was the sympathy and reverence of every intended for a national solemnity, for Frenchman present; doubtless they felt, mourners there were none; his own uniforms and felt keenly, the return of their former were not even seen around him, and the hero, though dead; but the reflections were only eagles there, were those which were bitter to their sensitive natures; they felt cut in yellow pasteboard. But the light that though the bones of their idol were had burned out which projected the giganamongst them, yet the sentence which in-tic shadow on the canvas, and what was left dignant Europe had written on the rocks behind? nothing but a name,

of St. Helena was not erased, but was "The sport of fortune and the jest of fame."

From Dolman's Magazine.

SICK CALLS.

THE DYING BANKER.

CHAPTER I.-DRURY-LANE AT NIGHT.

I WAS, summoned on a busy Saturday slight sketch of this celebrated locality, night some three years ago. The beadle which is never seen to such picturesque efknocked smartly at my door, and informed fect as on this hour of a Saturday night. me that a young lady wished to see me immediately. I went to the bottom of the chapel, and found her near the entrance door. She was crying bitterly. She told me that her father was suddenly very much affected in his head-that she was afraid he was losing his senses. She begged earnestly that, if possible, I would see him that night; for she trembled to think of what his state might be on the morrow. I, of course, consented; and prepared immediately for my sick call.

The direction given me was in a small street near Drury-lane. My nearest way lay through Clare market; which was densely thronged with purchasers and venders of fish and vegetables, and perambulating stalls of nondescript refreshment.

It was about eleven o'clock as I turned into Drury lane; and here let me give a

The palaces of old Drury-lane are long since departed; it is no longer a favorite site for the residences of the English nobility, or the foreign ambassadors, as it was in the reigns of James II. and of William III. Pawnbrokers, gin-palaces, and provision shops have long since usurped their place and state; and its immediate purlieus -once laid out in fair and stately gardens and shady walks, where fountains glistened in the noonday-day sun, where birds warbled their trilling melodics, and the ambient air was redolent of choice and richlyscented flowers,-these once beautiful environs now fester in rank squalor and filth, the abodes of crime and pollution, and peopled with the vilest of the vile. As you turn into Drury-lane, there are several pawnbrokers right and left Each banker of the poor generally contrives to get a location at