Recollections of Napoleon at St. Helena/Chapter 20

IN consequence of my mother's health declining, from the enfeebling effects of the too warm climate of St. Helena, she was ordered by her medical adviser to try a voyage to England, as the only means of restoring her shattered constitution. The Winchelsea store-ship having arrived from China, my father took our passage on board, obtaining first, from Sir Hudson Lowe, six months leave of absence from his duties as purveyor to Napoleon and his suite, &c.

A day or two before we embarked, my ​father, my sister, and myself rode to Longwood, to bid adieu to the emperor. He was in his billiard room, surrounded by books, which had arrived a few days before. He seemed much depressed at our leaving the island, and said he sincerely regretted the cause; he hoped my dear mother's health would soon be restored, and sent many affectionate messages to her, she being too ill to accompany us to Longwood. When we had sat with him some time, he walked with us in his garden, and with a sickly smile pointed to the ocean spread out before us, bounding the view, and said, "Soon you will be sailing away towards England, leaving me to die on this miserable rock. Look at those dreadful mountains they are my prison walls. You will soon hear that the Emperor Napoleon is dead." I burst into tears, and sobbed, as though my heart would break. He seemed much moved at the sorrow manifested by us. I had left my handker​chief in the pocket of my side-saddle, and seeing the tears run fast down my cheeks, Napoleon took his own from his pocket and wiped them away, telling me to keep the handkerchief in remembrance of that sad day.

We afterwards returned and dined with him. My heart was too full of grief to swallow; and when pressed by Napoleon to eat some of my favourite bon-bons and creams, I told him my throat had a great swelling in it, and I could take nothing.

The hour of bidding adieu came at last. He affectionately embraced my sister and myself, and bade us not forget him; adding that he should ever remember our friend-ship and kindness to him, and thanked us again and again for all the happy hours he had passed in our society. He asked me what I should like to have in remembrance of him. I replied, I should value a lock of his hair more than any other gift he could present. He then sent for Monsieur Mar​chand, and desired him to bring in a pair of scissors and cut off four locks of hair for my father and mother, my sister, and myself, which he did. I still possess that lock of hair; it is all left me of the many tokens of remembrance of the Great Emperor.