Perfidious Albion
After the battle of Waterloo, which closed the last great European war, Napoleon fled to the coast, intending to take refuge in the United States; but, finding it impossible to evade the British cruisers, he determined to throw himself upon the generosity of the British nation.
On the 14th of July he despatched on officer to the Prince Regent of England,--afterwards George IV.,--announcing, that, his political career having come to an end, he came, like Themistocles of old, to throw himself upon the hospitality of the British nation, and to claim the protection of her arms. He then embarked in the English ship-of-war "Bellerophon," with his suite, and sailed for England. He was not, however, allowed to land, and, being kept in suspense on board ship for several weeks, was finally exiled to St. Helena.
When transferred to the ship "Northumberland," which was to convey him, with a few faithful friends, to St. Helena, he exclaimed, as the shores of England receded, "Perfidious Albion!" (Albion the ancient name of England).
After six years' imprisonment, on the 5th of May, 1821, Napoleon died at St. Helena, of cancer of the stomach, aged fifty-one years.
In 1840, a quarrel between England and France being settled, Great Britain agreed, as a peace-offering, that the remains of the Emperor Napoleon should be removed from St. Helena to France.
By order of King Louis Philippe, they were conveyed to Paris, and interred in the chapel of L'Hotel des Invalides, with imposing ceremonies, Dec. 15, 1840.
His tomb is in the middle of the chapel, and nineteen feet below the floor, in a large open space, circular in form, and surrounded by a marble balustrade, on which are engraved the names of the principal victories won by the emperor. "Looking over the balustrade into the open space below, the massive sarcophagus of porphyry, brought from Finland, may be seen, which encloses the mortal remains of the great Napoleon. It rests upon a pedestal of green granite brought from the Vosges Mountains. Twelve colossal statues of Victory support the marble balustrade, and face the tomb. The pavement is in mosaic, with festoons of flowers, and the names of Napoleon's greatest victories. At one end of the crypt is a niche of black marble, in which stands a statue of Napoleon in his imperial robes. A lamp, always burning, hangs before it; and under the lamp is an antique altar, on which are laid the three keys of the coffins in which the body was placed at St. Helena, the sword used by the emperor at Austerlitz, the hat he wore at Eylau, and the gold crown presented to him by the city of Cherbourg. On each side of the vault are standards taken in his battles.
"Two winding stairways under the high altar of the church lead to the tomb, the entrance to which is closed by two superb bronze gates; and on each side of the entrance are the tombs of Marshals Duroc and Bertrand, Napoleon's most devoted friends in life, and the guardians of his rest in death. Over the portal of the entrance is the inscription, taken from the emperor's last will, 'I wish my ashes to repose on the banks of the Seine, in the midst of that French people whom I have loved so well.' Visitors are not allowed to enter the vault, but must pause at the closed gates. No rude sounds are heard around the ashes of the great soldier; and, in the church above, the crowd is silent and subdued; for this is holy ground to every Frenchman."
In connection with this subject should be read Mrs. Browning's beautiful poem, "Crowned and Buried."
With a green willow for all pyramid,--
Which stirred a little if the low wind did,
A little more, if pilgrims overwept him,
Disparting the lithe boughs to see the clay
Which seemed to cover his for judgment-day.
As deeply as the sepulchre the corse,
Until dilated by such love's remorse
To a new angel of the resurrection,
She cried, 'Behold, thou England! I would have
The dead whereof thou wottest from that grave.'
Which ancient foes, turned lovers, may befit,--
'Take back thy dead! and when thou buriest it,
Throw in all former strife 'twixt thee and me.'
Amen, mine England! 'tis a courteous claim--
But ask a little room too...for thy shame!"