fore Prosperous Bay. The few gumtrees left standing in the vicinity of Longwood at length appeared between the summit of Diana and Barnes's Point, whose indentation recalls in so striking a manner the profile of the hero who died in this miserable prison.

At a quarter to eleven we commenced doubling Barnes's Point, behind which rises Sugar Loaf Mountain. Next is seen the lawn of Longwood, with the green trees and mansion. The signals which we observed no doubt announced the arrival of our vessels. At eleven o'clock we were making six knots an hour; and the Sugar Loaf, with its formidable belt of batteries, increased visibly in size. Our anchorage lay behind, as we now began to perceive it plainly. We first distinguished a bowsprit, which excited the greatest interest and many conjectures. "Perhaps," said some," it is a ship which brings us news from our native land." Vain hopes! Three masts followed the bowsprit, then a flag-an English flag. But, behold! a second bowsprit, then two masts and a tri-coloured flag. "France, France!" holloaed forth the whole crew, regardless of discipline.

"The signal, the signal!" exclaimed the Prince. "Ask him his number!" No sooner said than done. We soon learned what we wanted. It was the brig Orestes, which left France later than we did, and which brought us a Channel pilot. Near us were anchored a Dutch merchantman coming from Batavia, and an English brig of war, the Dolphin.

Meanwhile we slowly approached the anchorage. Arrived under the lee of the land, we experienced a dead calm. A breeze from the north, however, suddenly sprung up, which joined to the current carried us out two miles into the offing. Several visitors from the town came aboard

at this juncture. Among them

were Lieutenant Middlemore, son of the governor of the island, sent by his father (who was too ill to come aboard in person) to pay his respects to the Prince; Captain Alexander of the Engineers; Lieutenant Barnes, town-major; the Chevalier Gulliver, harbour-master; M. Soloman, consular agent of France, and several

other notabilities of the island. It was now half-past eleven o'clock. The Prince observed to these gentlemen that the place of the frigate was marked before the town; and that being under the wind of the island, he should be obliged to work up under baffling winds and heavy squalls.

At

This manœuvre appeared of singular difficulty to the English officers who know the roadsted, and the issue seemed to them exceedingly doubtful, but the Prince "stood on." half-p -past three we cast anchor in the appointed spot, the Prince receiving at the time the congratulations and compliments of his visitors, who one and all declared that it was impossible to have exhibited more of science or of sang froid.

We had already exchanged our salutes with the batteries of the land side, and with the English brig the Dolphin. The Orestes answered by discharging all her guns and manning the yards. Captain Doret, the commander of the Orestes, came aboard our ship; he left Cherbourg the 24th. of July; he brought with him despatches and an immense packet of letters. Alas, Tom! there were none for me; but in plain truth I expected none, and I was just as happy as though I received a dozen in perceiving the universal joy that rendered radiant the faces of every man Jack amongst us. How sweet is news from home when the wide waste of waters separates us from all we hold most dear! At length, as I have said, we approached the end of our voyage. We were about to fulfil the sacred mission that France had confided to us. We were anchored before James Town, a small village situated as an oasis in the valley of that name; if one may dignify with the name of valley a sort of abyss dug out, as it were, between two mountains. The church and the government - house, as seen from the roadsted shaded by massive trees, present a pleasing picture to the tempest - tost sailor. The roofs of the other houses of the town, rising in the form of an amphitheatre from the valley below, have a picturesque look, which is considerably heightened by the appearance here and there of tufts of fir-trees, indicating that the interior of the island is less arid than

the coast, where scarcely a trace of vegetation is visible.

At six o'clock in the evening, Messrs. Chabot and Las Cases landed. The latter was impatient to see again the spot where, twenty-five years before-then in the heyday of youth, he had passed near the person of Napoleon days and moments which would never be effaced from his memory. He now returned to this well-known spot accompanied by the son of the King of the French, to bring back and to restore to his country under the shade of the national flag all that was mortal of the great man whose memory will never perish. Night, too, soon interrupted this holy pilgrimage, and both these gentlemen were forced to return aboard.

The next morning, the 9th, several officers of the ship, and myself among others, landed at dawn of day. This was the second time I had touched the soil of St. Helena, the land of exile of the emperor, this climate witness of his long and sad captivity. What a difference between my first and second visit! On the former occasion I knelt down timidly and stealthily by his tomb; now I was in brilliant company, and we were all charged with the mission of restoring these relics to their proper and fitting resting place. After having proceeded for about 500 yards along a road cut out of the rock, we passed a narrow gate and draw-bridge, flanked by a guardhouse. After marching about 200 yards farther, we arrived at the gate of James Town. This is the capital, or rather the only village, of the island in which is resident the principal part of the population, amounting altogether to about 1600 souls. The garrison forms the third part, the colonists the half, and the slaves or Chinese workmen the remaining portion. The colonists are generally old retired civil or military subaltern servants of the India Company. Here they terminate their laborious, and by no means lucrative career, with the honorary titles of counsellors, directors, subaltern-directors, &c. The shopkeepers are for the most part Jews. The two enormous black and arid rocks which inclose James Town within their flanks are 550 feet high, and are crowned with batteries. The rock

to the right, called Ladder Hill, owes its name to the descent which conducts from the foot to the town, a descent so perpendicular that it can only be accomplished by the aid of a wooden ladder. The rock to the left, Munden's Hill, is somewhat less difficult. When I first landed at

St. Helena, they told me that Admiral Richard Munden, having neared the coast under favour of night, ordered his crew to slip down from the main-yards, and thus they retook the island from the Dutch. The fact is not beyond the range of possibility, but, as the vulgar proverb says, "seeing is believing." I confess I should like to see the operation before I should yield implicit faith to the account. However the fact may be, it is at the foot of this rock that the jetty is placed, which is at all times difficult of access, and at certain seasons is impracticable. The town is built from north to south. Far behind these rocks, and much more elevated, appears the white mansion called Alarm House, surrounded with pine-trees. In entering the town we crossed the Parade Square, which is 170 feet long and 160 broad. To the left is the palace of the governor and the garden of the Company; to the right the church and the public offices. After passing the garden of the Company, we stopped before a tolerably good mansion, forming the angle of the street. This was the house the emperor inhabited the only night he passed at James Town. Arrived in the roadsted the 15th October, 1815, at noon; he left it for his Calvary the next day, the 18th, at 5 o'clock in the morning before daybreak. He never more whilst living saw these places; but twenty-five years afterwards his mortal remains again traversed them.

At Parade Square the main street commences, which is 240 feet long and 40 broad, and composed of remarkably clean and pretty houses. I should also state that this street has an excellent flag-way and good sewers, and is well paved.

Already had Lieutenant-colonel Trelawny of the Artillery presented to the Prince the civil and military authorities. Our captain now landed, followed by his staff, and wending his way over Ladder Hill, bent his steps towards Plantation House, the

dwelling of the governor. This is rather a stylish mansion, built in the European materials, and formed the only object on which the eye could repose with pleasure, for the country all round presented one unvarying scene of dreariness, dryness, barrenness, and aridity. A cold wind, accompanied with rain, now blew right in our teeth; but, nevertheless, the Prince and all of us persisted in our intention of visiting the tomb of the emperor. Two leagues still separated us from the object of our wishes. In two hours and twenty-five minutes they were traversed. The valley all of a sudden opens out extensively to view, and presents an immense abyss of circular form, called the Devil's Punch-bowl. No vegetation is here visible, but there are tufts of thorny and prickly shrubs. The idea of building a human habitation here would appear bizarre and nonsensical. Nevertheless, to my complete amazement, there appeared all of a sudden a mansion, built upon a turfy soil at the foot of a small mountain. This is the home of Doctor Kay. At the other extremity appeared Hut's Gate, the ancient habitation of General Bertrand. Here terminates the

gorge of the mountain. Hard by the doctor's house there is a limpid spring, and at a few paces distant is the tomb of Napoleon. Whilst the mortal remains of the emperor lay within the bosom of this earth, the government of the island caused to be constructed the road which, by avoiding the great highway, Alarm House, and Hut's Gate, enabled you at once to descend to this sacred spot. Nature here appears to re-exert her dominion; vegetation seems again in full bloom; a gentle ray of light and sun descends from the summit of the mountains, while a solemn stillness reigns around. Every thing in this sacred spot breathes calmness and repose, and it was here in this still corner of forgotten earth that slept the genius who made the world his footstool.*

The Prince suddenly stopped short, labouring under deep emotion. He was seized with that involuntary palpitation of the heart which the very aspect of the place produces.

He

To the left, at the foot of a cypresstree, was our almoner on his knees fervently engaged in prayer. was, perhaps, the only Catholic priest who had knelt at the tomb since it had been first placed there. The monument is of extreme simplicity. Three flags, blackened by time, form a bed of nine feet long by six broad. This is bordered by a chain of white stones, inclosing a bed of fine clay, in which the Countess of Bertrand and some faithful servants had sown pansies and the everlasting flower. Time has not completely effaced the traces of this pious souvenir. A common iron gate protected this humble burying-place. The body of Napoleon was buried under the shade of two weeping willows, whose leaves fed, and perhaps still feed, the pious avidity of pilgrims of all countries of the world, who flocked in numbers to visit his tomb. During my first visit, the two weeping willows were still flourishing; at present, the remains of one of them encumbers the earth. Eighteen small weeping willows were also planted here by Mrs. Dallas, the lady of the brigadiergeneral of that name, who was the last governor of the island. In the name of our country we breathed a prayer for that good and excellent Englishwoman who had thus paid a pious homage to departed greatness.

The tomb, the iron railings, and the willows, are surrounded by a second set of railings in wood, of no very considerable height, and of about seventy-five feet in circumference. Inside the wooden railings are planted thirty-four cypress-trees. Without the outer gate we remained for some moments on our bended knees. Crowds of tumultuous thoughts struggled within us for utterance. Nothing was written on the tomb or head-stone on which we had fixed our earnest gaze. There was no modest epitaph, not even a date, still less a name, which would have revealed fifteen years of glory, and yet we could not turn our eyes away from these silent rocks of stone.

It is now said that on the site of this empty tomb the English government designs to raise a splendid monument. Is it for us, who delayed

and postponed our duty for so long a time, to complain of the remissness of others? The Prince slowly walked all round the tomb, and then, stooping down towards the head-stone, gathered a flower, which he pressed to his lips; the flower was, alas! more than half withered. After remaining for some moments absorbed in sad reflections, the Prince turned towards us and said, "Gentlemen, prepare some succours of these weeping willows." Then, turning to M. Hernoux, he added, "Give to the old sentinel who guards the tomb as much money as you can collect." In losing the body of the dead hero the poor old soldier lost the source of his daily bread. We endeavoured to recompense him. Whilst he regarded the Prince with a mournful eye, a shower of napolcons fell into his hat. The retreat which formed his last home was little known by the emperor during his life. During the early period of his sojourn at Longwood, he had visited the spot, but fearing that he would not be able to return to his habitation by daylight, he only remained there a few instants. By the emperor's order, the Count of Las Cases had formed an intimacy with Doctor Kay. The water of Longwood was detestable; that of this particular source was excellent, and every morning a Chinese servant went to fetch sufficient for the emperor's use. When he went to see M. Bertrand at Hut's Gate he often drank a glass with pleasure. Foreseeing during his last illness that he would be refused a tomb in France, he bethought him of the spring of the old doctor, and manifested a desire to be buried near the spot. His gaoler-whose name should never be pronounced, that he may perish in the memory of men -raised no objection. This was the first time in his life that he listened to a wish of the noble victim. The place was henceforward called the Valley of Geranium. We were preparing to proceed to the left, in order to visit Longwood, that unwholesome prison where grief, aided by the annoyances of his gaolers, at the end of six years killed the great

In

At half-way from Longwood we saluted Hut's Gate, that small house with three or four rooms where General Bertrand sojourned for several months with his family while waiting the preparation of a house near that of the emperor. These mountains, with their bare flanks and cloud capt tops, offered a striking contrast to the generous valleys, whose numerous brooks alimented the rich vegetation. some pleasing spots along the slopes of the valleys there were pretty white houses with green shutters, so freshly and so coquettishly constructed that it gave one the idea of those brilliant illuminated card-houses which are given as toys to children. Wherever nature had made a breach between the mountains of the coast, the sea seemed to mix and confound itself with the fogs which veiled the horizon. Through these cloudy curtains the vessels in the roadsted appeared to us as fishermen's boats. To the left was seen that frightful gulf more than a quarter of a league in diameter and of nameless depth, which the inhabitants of the country have so oddly called the Devil's Punch-bowl.

After having traversed a thicket of underwood, as triste in appearance as the soil was arid, we arrived at Longwood. The two huts which form the entrance are in the same state of dilapidation as the day on which the emperor arrived. Between these huts and the mansion is a space of about 800 feet, formerly planted with gum-trees. Such as were anciently to the left of the road have been either replaced by pine-trees or have been wholly grubbed up. Longwood Mansion consists of a very low ground-floor, the rooms of which are few, small, dark, and humid. Their lugubrious aspect was doubtless somewhat, though not much, mitigated when they were furnished and inhabited by the emperor. Longwood is now completely unfurnished. The Prince was the first to mount the few steps which lead to the apartments formerly occupied by Napoleon. His royal highness and all of us (the English who accompanied us included) took off their hats in entering. General Bertrand and some of his companions in exile came and stood by the side of the Prince ready to answer his questions, but their bearing was sad and mournful. A profound silence reigned amongst us. The view from the windows disclosed only stables and out-houses. The destruction visible all around had

not been caused by the tooth of Time: it arose from the neglect and carelessness of man. The chamber in which Napoleon breathed his last sigh-that sacred spot which a religious respect should for ever protect

-that spot on which his dying limbs reposed-on which Bertrand and the faithful Marchand on glancing at it exclaimed,-" He lay there -his head turned towards this side;" -this sacred chamber is now no more than a mere barn; the ceiling in ruins; the floor rotten; the walls damp, decrepit, and full of holes, and the place where his bedstead furniture stood is occupied by a corn-mill; the panes are shivered to atoms; the window-sashes are rotting away or altogether destroyed; and the door hangs to the dilapidated wall but by a single hinge! Our silence still continued; not one amongst us appeared anxious to break it, for our sobs stifled the power of speech within us. On the spot where the chimney-glass once stood we read a multitude of names and of inscriptions in honour of the hero. Oppo

site the emperor's bed, there was formerly placed a bust and a portrait of the King of Rome, that poor youth who also died in another exile. Now nothing of this remains-absolutely nothing.

WHEN Wilkie first visited the British metropolis in the year 1805, he had neither friends nor patrons, but had to depend entirely upon the efforts of his pencil for a living. A few small pictures which he possessed, and which were beautifully executed, obtained for him some employment from a well-known picture-dealer of the name of Buchannan, for whom he copied certain pictures of the Dutch and Flemish schools, which, it is supposed, were palmed upon the collectors and sent abroad, with much more advantage to the employer than to the ingenious painter.

Amongst the very few friends whom Wilkie had the good fortune to become acquainted with, was John Jackson, the celebrated portraitpainter, who had already commenced

VOL. XXIV. NO. CXLII.

his happy career under the munificent auspices of Sir George Beaumont, and subsequently was employed by the Earl of Mulgrave.

Jackson was one of the most estimable of men, open, candid, generous, and a friend to all who deserved his friendship; and Wilkie's interests were warmly supported and cherished under his protecting influence.

Just before Wilkie had become acquainted with Jackson, amongst other mortifications which he had to contend with, was one which painters of genius and talent, united to poverty, have been too fatally subject to in almost every age, we mean the gross, vulgar reception which such experience from picture-dealers -a class of brutal miscreants, who cannot be named by honest, inge

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