dreary years spent at St. Helena were not the least
successful of his career. Without them there could have been no second
Napoleonic Empire.

Not that his life there was a "long-drawn agony." His health was
fairly good. There were seasons of something like enjoyment, when he
gave himself up to outdoor recreations. Such a time was the latter
part of 1819 and the first half of 1820: we may call it the Indian
summer of his life, for he was then possessed with a passion for
gardening. Lightly clad and protected by a broad-brimmed hat, he went
about, sometimes spade in hand, superintending various changes in the
grounds at Longwood and around the new house which was being erected
for him hard by. Or at other times he used the opportunity afforded by
the excavations to show how infantry might be so disposed on a hastily
raised slope as to bring a terrific fire to bear on attacking cavalry.
Marshalling his followers at dawn by the sound of a bell, he made them
all, counts, valets, and servants, dig trenches as if for the front
ranks, and throw up the earth for the rear ranks: then, taking his
stand in front, as the shortest man, and placing the tallest at the
rear (his Swiss valet, Noverraz), he triumphantly showed how the
horsemen might be laid low by the rolling volleys of ten ranks.[586]
In May or June he took once more to horse exercise, and for a time his
health benefited from all this activity. His relations with the
Governor were peaceful, if not cordial, and the limits were about this
time extended.

Indoors there were recreations other than work at the Memoirs. He
often played chess and billiards, at the latter using his hand instead
of the cue! Dinner was generally at a very late hour, and afterwards
he took pleasure in reading aloud. Voltaire was the favourite author,
and Montholon afterwards confessed to Lord Holland that the same
plays, especially "Zaire," were read rather too often.

"Napoleon slept himself when read to, but he was very observant
and jealous if others slept while he read. He watched his audience
vigilantly, and _'Mme. Montholon, vous dormez'_ was a frequent
ejaculation in the course of reading. He was animated with all
that he read, especially poetry, enthusiastic at beautiful
passages, impatient of faults, and full of ingenious and lively
remarks on style."[587]

During this same halcyon season two priests, who had been selected by
the Bonapartes, arrived in th