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