between 7.30 and 8 o'clock a.m., to receive the Holy Communion once more, at the little chapel at Chislehurst, where I hope, if I die, to be buried. "Ever yours affectionately, "NAPOLEON." The 27th of February, 1879, broke chill and cold over the little village of Chislehurst; there was a still colder chill in the heart of the Empress and her small retinue of followers. At Camden House all told of the bustle and excitement which a hurried journey occasions. The Prince rose early, took a hasty breakfast, and then, according to the previous night's arrangement, proceeded alone at 7.30 a.m. to the chapel, where M. l'Abbé Goddard awaited him. Taking the well-beaten track from the lodge gates across to the chapel, he entered the churchyard, and walked up the private path which leads to the sacristy. Here, before the Emperor's remains were removed to the marble sarcophagus where they now rest, they had lain, and received the homage of thousands. Ah! how little the Prince realized that before many months were over his coffin would occupy, in imperial state, that shrine! or of the solemn scene which so shortly took place in that little chapel, when all England's noblest and fairest came there to honour and weep over the memory of the soldier prince who had died a hero's death in her cause! The chapel-keeper related to me that she was engaged in her duties at the chapel that morning, when the Prince entered through the sacristy, looking sad and thoughtful. He saluted her courteously, and passed between the altar rails, where the Abbé awaited him, and from whose hands he received the Holy Sacrament. This duty performed, he went on to his father's tomb, and remained there so long in prayer, that, as the hour of his departure was drawing near, a messenger was despatched from Camden House to summon him. Reverently kissing the Emperor's tomb, he rose, and passed out of the chapel through the sacristy again; but in a moment returned to its door; he remembered he had omitted to take leave of the chapel-keeper. The good woman narrated with tears of affection and pride, how, with French grace, he first raised his cap to her, and then, "with his own lovely smile," apologized for the omission, and extending his hand bade her farewell. "He was a true Prince, ma'am," she said, “ and never did aught that a Prince should not do." The train which conveyed the Imperial travellers-for the Empress decided to accompany her son to Southampton-started at 8.20 a.m., and before that hour a large concourse of people had assembled at the Chislehurst station to see them off. The Prince bade them farewell right gallantly, shaking hands familiarly with those whom he knew personally. One little girl, the daughter of a friend, pressed forward, and offered him a bouquet. He accepted it, raised the child in his arms, and kissed her. The same little girl, on the 2nd of July, with tearful eyes, placed a wreath of violets on his tomb. Arrived at Southampton, the Prince was again the object of welcoming crowds who gave him "God speed" on his expedition. At Southampton the Empress took a sad adieu of her son; both were visibly affected. To the Empress the parting was one of intense anxiety and anguish. Since her fallen fortunes the Prince was her all, and in his life her past, her present, and her future hopes were centered. The ship which conveyed the Prince to the Cape was one of the Union Steam Navigation Company's, the "Danube," commanded by Captain Draper. She likewise carried a detachment of troops to Africa. On board, the Prince assumed the position of an ordinary voyager, dining at the same table, and mixing in unrestrained intercourse with the rest of his fellow-passengers, to whom he commended himself by his affability and cheerful good nature. His natural activity soon made him at home with a sailor's duties, and he was often seen climbing the rigging, up the mast's head, or hauling in the ropes, for mere pastime. At other times he amused himself by playing with the children who were on board, and frequently was a prominent object, seated on deck, with some baby on his knee, whom he dandled to its parents' pride and delight. With one and all he was bon camarade, yet he never lost the dignity of birth he knew so well how to maintain when occasion required. The Prince spent some time daily with his horses, which he personally saw fed. One of these died from an accident in landing at Durban, and the other from disease soon after, so that on landing he had to provide himself with a fresh supply. Upon the Prince's arrival at Cape Town, Sir Bartle Frere being absent, Lady Frere received him at Government House. He, however, lost no time in proceeding to Natal. At Durban, where he landed, the Prince at first joined the corps of artillery stationed at the camp, about four miles outside the town, in the position of a lieutenant, but without command. This arrangement did not please him, for, although he quite understood the reasons which prevented his taking command in the English army, he was not contented, as he expressed it, "to belong to any special corps, merely as a fifth wheel to a carriage." As soon, therefore, as Lord Chelmsford arrived he begged permission to be attached to his staff. In this position, by following closely the general operations, he hoped to pursue the study of warfare experimentally, whilst, if opportunity offered, he trusted to be made useful. 319 CHAPTER XVIII. DURBAN, AND UP CAMP. "Give thanks to God who blinded us with hope, THE port of Natal, Durban, is about two miles from the town itself, and at a little distance does not appear to consist of more than a few rough warehouses and sheds, with a rude railway station which serves the double purpose of protecting boats and engines alike. There are trains every half-hour into the town. Travellers can have the choice of proceeding there by rail, omnibus, or carriage, and whichever way they take lovely scenery breaks upon the eye, the route lying through a country rich in verdure and overhanging foliage. When the tide is low, Durban can be reached by driving along the hard, dry sand along the shore. The town is full of activity and life, and both clean and pleasant. New arrivals find infinite amusement in the variety of |