was refused, and two years afterwards he
accepted command of the forces at Ceylon, and was still there when Sir
Walter Scott's exculpation of the British Government appeared in 1828.
Scott was employed for that special purpose.

The ex-Governor searched the pages of this extraordinary work for a
vindication of himself, but never a word that could be construed into
real approval was there. He obtained leave of absence from the
Governor of Ceylon and made his way to England, ostensibly to
vindicate his character. He landed at St. Helena, paid a visit to
Longwood, otherwise known as the "Abode of Darkness" since the
Imperial tenant named it so when he gave O'Meara his benediction on
the occasion of his last parting from him, when he was banished from
the island. Sir Hudson was shocked at seeing the place reverted back
to a worse state than it was previous to the exiles being forced into
it. Then it was a dirty, unwholesome barn, overrun with vermin; now it
was worse than a piggery. The aspect touched a tender chord in this
man who had been the cause of making the Emperor's compulsory sojourn
a sorrowful agony.

Reflections of all that happened during those five memorable years
must have crowded in upon him and racked him with feelings of bitter
remorse for his avoidable part in the cruel drama; and as he stood
upon the spot that had been made famous by England's voluntary
captive, it was not unnatural that he should have been overcome by a
strange and possibly a purifying sadness. All of that which he had
regarded in other days, under different conditions, as unjustifiable
splendour had vanished. The Imperial bedroom and study were now made
use of to accommodate and give shelter to cows, horses, and pigs.
Other agricultural commodities were strewn about everywhere. Nothing
was left that would indicate that it was consecrated to fame and
everlasting pity. The triumph of death came to it only some six years
before. And now Sir Hudson Lowe, we doubt not, filled with pensive
regret, looked down on the nameless tomb of the great captain, guarded
by sentinels with fixed bayonets, ready to thrust them into any
unauthorised intruder into the sacred precincts of the Valley of
Napoleon, or the Geranium Valley, which is also known by the name of
Punch Bowl.

Ah! what thickly gathering memories must have come to him in that
solemn hour on that smitten rock of bitter and brutal vengeance! All
we shall ever know of that melancholy v