REVIEW.

Duroc, and the hearts of Generals La-then forming in Bohemia, which afroboissiere and Barraguay D'Hilliers terwards had the name of the grand lay embalmed under a rich canopy of army, black velvet, in magnificent coffins which | 1998 were strewed with flowers every morning by the Dutchess of Istria, the widow of Bessiers, who came thither regularly after mass. This room was hung with black, and lighted only by a small lamp, which burnt under the canopy, and threw its light in the most striking manner on the grey hairs and expressive countenance of the old Marshal, as he stood over the remains of his late antagonists in arms. He heard the name of each with a slight inclination of his head, gazed on the coffins for some moments in silence, and then turned about, and, as if to shew that he was not to be moved by ifs recollections, he strode out of the chapel humining a tune, མ་། །

140

Napoleon in Exile; or, a Voice from
St. Helena. The opinions and
reflections of Napoleon on the most
important events of his Life and
Government, in his own words
By BARRY E. O'MEARA, Esq.
his late Surgeon. 2 Vols. Con-
tinued.

"Mr. Balcombe's family consisted of his wife, two daughters, one about twelve, and the other fifteen years of age, and two boys of five or six. The young ladies spoke French fluently, and Napoleon frequently dropt in to play a rubber of whist, or hold a little conversation. On one occasion he indulged them by participating in a game of blindman's-buff, very much to the amusement of the young ladies. Nothing was left undone by this worthy family that could contribute to lessen the inconveniences

We heard that he had vowed to recover possession of the sword of the great Frederic, which used to hang in the midst of the 10,000 standards of all nations, that waved under the lofty of his situation. A captain of the artillery dome of this building; but on the day resided at the Briars as orderly officer, that the allies entered Paris, the stand- and at first a serjeant and some soldiers sards were taken down and burnt, and were also stationed there as an additional the sword was broken to pieces, by an security; but upon a remonstrance being order, as was said, from Maria Louisa. made to Sir George Cockburn, the latter, convinced of their inutility, ordered them It is right to notice here, that the to be removed. Counts Bertrand and famous Silesian army which he com- Montholon, with their respective ladies manded, consisted originally of many and children, General Gourgaud, and mymore Russian troops than Prussian-self, lived together at Mr. Porteous's, where in the proportion, we were told, of a suitable table in the French style, was provided by Mr. Balcombe. When any four to one, although the proportion of of them were desirous of paying a visit to the latter was afterwards increased.the Briars, or of going out of the town Indeed it was at first the intention of elsewhere, no farther restriction was imthe Emperor of Russia to put himself posed upon them than causing them to be at the head of this army; but he af-accompanied by myself or some other British officer, or followed by a soldier. — Lterwardso o gave up that idea, saying, In this manner, they were permitted to othat he knew the Russians and Prus- visit any part of the island they pleased, Stans would fight well, and act cor- except the forts and batteries. They were ially together; but that the presence visited by Colonel and Mrs. Wilks, Lienof the sovereigns would be more use-bers of council, and by most of the resful in keeping together the heteroge-spectable inhabitants, and the officers, both neous materials.composing the army military and paval, belonging to the gar

1

tenant-colonel and Mrs. Skelton, the mem

they had been accustomed both to witness and to practise.

rison and squadron, and by their wives and families. Little evening parties were occasionally given by the French to their Every day bodies of two or three hunvisitors, and matters were managed in such dred seamen were employed in carrying a manner that there was not much appear-up from James Town, timber and other ance of constraint. Sometimes the Count-materials for building, together with furesses Bertrand and Montholon accompanied niture, which, though the best was pur by one or two casual island visitors, passed chased at an enormous expense, whatever an hour or two in viewing, and occasionally it could be procured, was paltry and oldpurchasing some of the productions of the fashioned. So deficient was the island in East and of Europe, exhibited in the shops the means of transport, that almost every of the tradesmen, which, though far from thing, even the very stones for building, offering the variety or the magnificence of were carried up the steep side-path on the those of the Rue Vivienne, tended never- heads and shoulders ers of the the seamen, occatheless to divert them a little from the sionally assisted by fatigue parties of the tedious monotony of a St. Helena resi- | fifty-third regiment. By means of incesdence. sant labour, Longwood House was enlarged so as to admit, on the 9th of Déceinber, Napoleon and part of his household, Count and Countess Montholon

Sir George Cockburn gave several well attended balls, to all of which they were invited; and where, with the exception of

Napoleon, they frequently went. Atten- Count and young Las fu

Napoleon himself had a small narrow

Count and Countess
From the dining-

tion was paid to their feelings; and upon the whole, matters, if not entirely satisfac-bed-room on the ground-floor, a writingtory to them upon some points, were at room of the same dimensions, and a sort least placed upon such a footing as to of small ante-chamber, in which, a bath render their existence tolerable, had not was put up. The writing room of opened the island in itself presented so many local into a dark and low apartment, which was wants and miseries. It would, perhaps, converted into a dining-room.The ophave been much better, and more consis-posite wing consisted of a bed-ropm, largur tent with propriety, had Napoleon been than that of Napoleon's, which, with an accommodated at Plantation House, until ante-chamber and the repairs and additions making to Long-commodation for wood were finished, instead of being so Montholon and indifferently provided for in point of lodg-room a door led to a drawing-room, about ings at the Briars. I must, however, do eighteen feet by fifteent In prolongation the admiral the justice to say, that upon of this, one longer, much higher, and more this point I have reason to believe he was airy, was built of wood, by Sir George not at liberty to carry his own wishes into Cockburn, with three windows on each effect. In the mean time, no exertions side, and a viranda, leading to the garden. were spared by Sir George Cockburn to This, although it laboured under the inenlarge and improve the old building, so convenience of becoming intolerably hot as to render it capable of containing so towards the evening, whenever the sun great an increase of inmates. For this shone forth in tropical splendour, by the purpose, all the workmen, not only of the rays penetrating the wood of which it squadron, but in the island, were put in composed, was the only good room in the requisition and Longwood, for nearly two building. Las Cases had a room next the months, presented as busy a scene as has kitchen, which had formerly been occupied ever been witnessed during the war, in by some of Colonel Skelton's servants, any of his majesty's dock-yards, whilst a through the ceiling of which an opening fleet was fitting out under the personal was cut, so as to admit a very narrow stair, directions of some of our first naval com-leading to a sort of cock-loft above, where manders. The admiral, indefatigable in his exertions, was frequently seen to arrive at Longwood shortly after sun-rise, stimulating by his presence the St. Helena workmen who, in general, lazy and indolent, beheld with astonishment the dispatch and activity of a man-of-war succeed to the characteristic idleness which, until then,

was

his son reposed. The garrets over the old building were floored, and converted into apartments for Marchand, Cipriani, St. Dennis, Josephine, &c. From the sloping structure of the roof, it was impossible to stand upright in those garrets, unless in the centre, and the sun, penetrating through the slating, rendered them occasionally in

POETRY.

NOTICES TO CORRESPONDENTS.

Rusticus will appear next week; and we would be happy to receive further communications from him, A Dwarf's Country Wedding' will make its appearance in our next. We would advise him, however, in future, to shorten his effusions. The Melange is by no means a fit publication for long-winded articles.

THE CAMERA OBSCURA. glory-he pierced them with his irre

No. 4.

THE ORPHAN.

sistable beams and, as they rose around him on every side, they were a bright investiture of shining veils, through which his majestic visage shone. It was a beautiful afternoon in July, It was a noble sight to witness that when the old minister and I were sit- luminary fall into the deep, making ting on one of the grave stones of the himself every moment more beautiful, little church-yard of Glentorly. The investing himself with a prouder sun, which had burned intensely dur-livery, and sinking from mortal sight ing the day, was steeped and cooled with undiminished grandeur. in the dews of the evening: nature, The minister was a pious man, of which had sickened under his sultry a fine imagination, and did not fail beams, began to revive; and there was to enjoy the splendour of such a scene. a freshness and almost a satisfaction, But he was an aged man, and I was when his vast burning orb sunk be- young. I had met with no sorrows neath the sea, trailing a mighty volume and he was a man of many woes. of burnished clouds along with it. had dwelt in the house of feasting and The declining luminary hid his golden mirth; but he had been long convervisage in the deep; but, in his fall, he sant with the house of mourning was not less glorious than when he What wonder then, that we surveyed arose, in majesty, at the dawn of that the setting sun with different eyes? day. As he sunk downwards from I gazed upon it with the maddening his elevation, the clouds, which had poetical enthusiasm of youth; I likenfled to the uttermost parts of the sky, ed it to the glorious empire of romance. appeared, and decked the mighty azure The clouds that rolled along, were so of heaven with a thousand fantastic many shining chariots moving, through shapes; but they could not shade space, by some magician's wand-the the majestic ball from the eyes of man beings who basked in the celestial glow -they could not, like the vapours that were the inhabitants of fairy land. I pass before the moon, obscure his bril- figured, in imagination, their vaulted liant face, and cast a dim vail between bowers-their plains of burnished gosit, and the inhabitants of the earth. samer-their dance and melodious music in this strange region-and I

No, he made them subservient to his

wished I could transform myself to one of these light forms, and see the secrets of a place so wonderfully hid from human eyes. But the minister looked on with sublimer feelings. He saw nothing but an image of the Eternal above him; and, as that image fell beneath the horizon, he sighed deeply, but not sadly, and said O Lord! what must thou thyself be, when even thine emblems are so majestic.'

TO THE MEMORY OF

HENRY WILLIAMSON,
Aged 23,

AND MARGARET, HIS WIFE, AGED 19,
Obiit. 18-

These are young persons,' said I,— they seem to have died in the same year. They are young in years," replied the old man, but I wish that many, three times older, were equally fit to die. Henry, whose name you see on the stone, was my son. Margaret, his wife, was an orphan, who lived in my house. I shall relate their story, it is short but affecting.' When I think on my dear Margaret Harvey, my heart warms within me, and I feel again, all the enthusiasm of youth.— I took her into my house when eight years old, for she was left an orphan by the death of her father and mother, who departed within six months of each other. I knew her parents well. They were a genteel bút broken family

The place of tombs, where we sat, appeared more lonely in the dusk of twilight. The rows of elm and alder trees, that shaded the avenue, nodded silently as the soft sweet breeze of evening came among their branchesand the melancholy cuckoo continued his plaintive and incessant cry. On every side were planted the sepulchres of the dead. Some were railed in, and adorned with a marble slab to tell who lay there. Some were simply flagged; and others had a head-stone at people without guile-fearers of the top of the mound, with the ordinary God, and lovers of all mankind. I inscription cut out upon it. Some of remember well, when I made my last the dead had neither railing, nor marble, visit to her dying mother. Poor, good nor stone of any kind, to shield their woman, she felt no regret in dying, remains. The green turf, raised a foot but that of leaving her orphan on above the yard, was the only memorial the wide world. She told me that that underneath reposed their ashes. she wished to die, if it were not for This is a lovely place,' said the old little Margaret; but what would the man, but it is a place I love to sit in, for it minds me that I must soon lie It would have melted a heart of stone poor orphan do when she was away? down here; and prepares me for that to have seen the little child weeping last rest-come when it will. But by her mother's bed at this moment there are those beneath that green sod sobbing bitterly, and holding her dywhom I once called my own, and whom ing parent by the hand. She was so I loved more than life. There are beautiful, so full of innocence, so those who, when alive, made me helpless. My heart could not bear it. happy-too happy; but they are dead I took the sweet cherub up on my now, and have left me an hermit.-knees, blessed her, and told her moMy wife, my daughter, and two of ther that, while I lived, she should my fair sons, lie in yonder grave, to never want a parent. This went to the right hand; and before us, beneath the dying christian's heart. She strove that stone, lie two others equally dear to speak, and thank me, but she could to me. I turned to the stone to not, for the dim shadow of death was which he pointed, and read: already over her. She could only