Memoirs of Napoleon Bonaparte — Complete
you will point out to him what is best to do, and will save him from
the cruel sufferings I now experience. This is the last service I ask of
you." Later in the day he said, "Doctor, I am very ill--I feel that I am
going to die."
The last time Napoleon spoke, except to utter a few short unconnected
words, was on the 3d of May. It was in the afternoon, and he had
requested his attendants, in case of his losing consciousness, not to
allow any English physician to approach him except Dr. Arnott. "I am
going to die," said he, "and you to return to Europe; I must give you
some advice as to the line of conduct you are to pursue. You have shared
my exile, you will be faithful to my memory, and will not do anything
that may injure it. I have sanctioned all proper principles, and
infused them into my laws and acts; I have not omitted a single one.
Unfortunately, however, the circumstances in which I was placed were
arduous, and I was obliged to act with severity, and to postpone the
execution of my plans. Our reverses occurred; I could not unbend the
bow; and France has been deprived of the liberal institutions I intended
to give her. She judges me with indulgence; she feels grateful for my
intentions; she cherishes my name and my victories. Imitate her example,
be faithful to the opinions we have defended, and to the glory we have
acquired: any other course can only lead to shame and confusion."
From this moment it does not appear that Napoleon showed any signs of
understanding what was going forward around him. His weakness increased
every moment, and a harassing hiccough continued until death took
place. The day before that event a fearful tempest threatened to destroy
everything about Longwood. The plantations were torn up by the roots,
and it was particularly remarked that a willow, under which Napoleon
usually sat to enjoy the fresh air, had fallen. "It seemed," says
Antommarchi, "as if none of the things the Emperor valued were to
survive him." On the day of his death Madame Bertrand, who had not left
his bedside, sent for her children to take a last farewell of Napoleon.
The scene which ensued was affecting: the children ran to the bed,
kissed the hands of Napoleon, and covered them with tears. One of the
children fainted, and all had to be carried from the spot. "We all,"
says Antommarchi, "mixed our lamentations with theirs: we all felt the
same anguish, the same cruel foreboding of the approach of the fatal
instant, which every minute accelerated." The favourite valet, Noverraz,
who had been for some time very ill, when he heard of the state in which
Napoleon was, caused himself to be carried downstairs, and entered the
apartment in tears. He was with great difficulty prevailed upon to leave
the room: he was in a delirious state, and he fancied his master was
threatened with danger, and was calling upon him for assistance: he said
he would not leave him but would fight and die for him. But Napoleon was
now insensible to the tears of his servants; he had scarcely spoken for
two days; early in the morning he articulated a few broken sentences,
among which the only words distinguishable were, "tete d'armee," the
last that ever left his lips, and which indicated the tenor of his
fancies. The day passed in convulsive movements and low moanings, with
occasionally a loud shriek, and the dismal scene closed just before six
in the evening. A slight froth covered his lips, and he was no more.
After he had been dead about six hours Antommarchi had the body
carefully washed and laid out on another bed. The executors then
proceeded to examine two codicils which were directed to be opened
immediately after the Emperor's decease. The one related to the
gratuities which he intended out of his private purse for the different
individuals of his household, and to the alms which he wished to be
distributed among the poor of St. Helena; the other contained his last
wish that "his ashes should repose on the banks of the Seine, in the
midst of the French people whom he had loved so well." The executors
notified this request to the Governor, who stated that his orders were
that the body was to, remain on the island. On the next day, after
taking a plaster cast of the face of Napoleon, Antommarchi proceeded to
open the body in the presence of Sir Thomas Reade, some staff officers,
and eight medical men.
The Emperor had intended his hair (which was of a chestnut colour) for
presents to the different members of his family, and it was cut off and
kept for this purpose.
He had grown considerably thinner in person during the last few months.
After his death his face and body were pale, but without alteration or
anything of a cadaverous appearance. His physiognomy was fine, the eyes
fast closed, and you would have said that the Emperor was not dead, but
in a profound sleep. His mouth retained its expression of sweetness,
though one side was contracted into a bitter smile. Several scars were
seen on his body. On opening it it was found that the liver was not
affected, but that there was that cancer of the stomach which he had
himself suspected, and of which his father and two of his sisters died.
This painful examination having been completed, Antommarchi took out
the heart and placed it in a silver vase filled with spirits of wine;
he then directed the valet de chambre to dress the body as he had been
accustomed in the Emperor's lifetime, with the grand cordon of the
Legion of Honour across the breast, in the green uniform of a colonel of
the Chasseurs of the Guard, decorated with the orders of the Legion of
Honour and of the Iron Crown, long boots with little spurs, finally, his
three cornered hat. Thus habited, Napoleon was removed in the afternoon
of the 6th out of the hall, into which the crowd rushed immediately.
The linen which had been employed in the dissection of the body, though
stained with blood, was eagerly seized, torn in pieces, and distributed
among the bystanders.
Napoleon lay in state in his little bedroom which had been converted
into a funeral chamber. It was hung with black cloth brought from the
town. This circumstance first apprised the inhabitants of his death. The
corpse, which had not been embalmed, and which was of an extraordinary
whiteness, was placed on one of the campbeds, surrounded with little
white curtains, which served for a sarcophagus. The blue cloak which
Napoleon had worn at the battle of Marengo covered it. The feet and
the hands were free; the sword on the left side, and a crucifix on the
breast. At some distance was the silver vase containing the heart and
stomach, which were not allowed to be removed. At the back of the head
was an altar, where the priest in his stole and surplice recited the
customary prayers. All the individuals of Napoleon's suite, officers
and domestics, dressed in mourning, remained standing on the left. Dr.
Arnott had been charged to see that no attempt was made to convey away
the body.
For some-hours the crowd had besieged the doors; they were admitted,
and beheld the inanimate remains of Napoleon in respectful silence. The
officers of the 20th and 66th Regiments were admitted first, then the
others. The following day (the 7th) the throng was greater. Antommarchi
was not allowed to take the heart of Napoleon to Europe with him; he
deposited that and the stomach in two vases, filled with alcohol and
hermetically sealed, in the corners of the coffin in which the corpse
was laid. This was a shell of zinc lined with white satin, in which was
a mattress furnished with a pillow. There not being room for the hat to
remain on his head, it was placed at his feet, with some eagles, pieces
of French money coined during his reign, a plate engraved with his arms,
etc. The coffin was closed, carefully soldered up, and then fixed in
another case of mahogany, which was enclosed in a third made of lead,
which last was fastened in a fourth of mahogany, which was sealed up and
fastened with screws. The coffin was exhibited in the same place as the
body had been, and was also covered with the cloak that Napoleon had
worn at the battle of Marengo. The funeral was ordered for the morrow,
8th May, and the troops were to attend in the morning by break of day.
This took place accordingly: the Governor arrived first, the
Rear-Admiral soon after, and shortly all the authorities, civil and
military, were assembled at Longwood. The day was fine, the people
crowded the roads, music resounded from the heights; never had spectacle
so sad and solemn been witnessed in these remote regions. At half-past
twelve the grenadiers took hold of the coffin, lifted it with
difficulty, and succeeded in removing it into the great walk in the
garden, where the hearse awaited them. It was placed in the carriage,
covered with a pall of violet-coloured velvet, and with the cloak which
the hero wore at Marengo. The Emperor's household were in mourning. The
cavalcade was arranged by order of the Governor in the following manner:
The Abbe Vignale in his sacerdotal robes, with young Henry Bertrand at
his side, bearing an aspersorium; Doctors Arnott and Antommarchi, the
persons entrusted with the superintendence of the hearse, drawn by four
horses, led by grooms, and escorted by twelve grenadiers without arms,
on each side; these last were to carry the coffin on their shoulders as
soon as the ruggedness of the road prevented the hearse from advancing;
young Napoleon Bertrand, and Marchand, both on foot, and by the side of
the hearse; Counts Bertrand and Montholon on horseback close behind the
hearse; a part of the household of the Emperor; Countess Bertrand with
her daughter Hortense, in a calash drawn by two horses led by hand by
her domestics, who walked by the side of the precipice; the Emperor's
horse led by his piqueur Archambaud; the officers of marine on horseback
and on foot; the officers of the staff on horse-back; the members of
the council of the island in like manner; General Coffin and the Marquis
Montchenu on horseback; the Rear-Admiral and the Governor on horseback;
the inhabitants of the island.
The train set out in this order from Longwood, passed by the barracks,
and was met by the garrison, about 2500 in number, drawn up on the left
of the road as far as Hut's Gate. Military bands placed at different
distances added still more, by the mournful airs which they played, to
the striking solemnity of the occasion. When the train had passed the
troops followed and accompanied it to the burying-place. The dragoons
marched first. Then came the 20th Regiment of infantry, the marines,
the 66th, the volunteers of St. Helena, and lastly, the company of Royal
Artillery, with fifteen pieces of cannon. Lady Lowe and her daughter
were at the roadside at Hut's Gate, in an open carriage drawn by two
horses. They were attended by some domestics in mourning, and followed
the procession at a distance. The fifteen pieces of artillery were
ranged along the road, and the gunners were at their posts ready to
fire. Having advanced about a quarter of a mile beyond Hut's Gate the
hearse stopped, the troops halted and drew up in line of battle by the
roadside. The grenadiers then raised the coffin on their shoulders and
bore it thus to the place of interment, by the new route which had been
made on purpose on the declivity of the mountain. All the attendants
alighted, the ladies descended from their carriages, and the procession
followed the corpse without observing any regular order.
Counts Bertrand and Montholon, Marchand and young Napoleon Bertrand,
carried the four corners of the pall. The coffin was laid down at the
side of the tomb, which was hung with black. Near were seen the cords
and pulleys which were to lower it into the earth. The coffin was then