p and cheerless, had
seriously undermined her health. Notwithstanding acute bodily suffering,
she exerted herself to the utmost to entertain her guests. At night she
was worse and at times was delirious. Not long after this, Alexander and
the King of Prussia were both guests to dine at Malmaison. The health
of Josephine was such that she was urged by her friends not to leave her
bed. She insisted, however, upon dressing to receive the allied
sovereigns. Her sufferings increased, and she was obliged to retire,
leaving Hortense to supply her place.

The next day Alexander kindly called to inquire for her health. Hour
after hour she seemed to be slowly failing. On the morning of the 28th
she fell into a lethargic sleep, which lasted for five hours, and her
case was pronounced hopeless. Eugene and Hortense were at her side. The
death-hour had come. The last rites of religion were administered to the
dying. The Emperor Alexander was also in this chamber of grief.
Josephine was perfectly rational. She called for the portrait of
Napoleon, and, gazing upon it long and tenderly, breathed the following
prayer:

"O God, watch over Napoleon while he remains in the desert of this
world. Alas! though he hath committed great faults, hath he not expiated
them by great sufferings? Just God, thou hast looked into his heart, and
hast seen by how ardent a desire for useful and durable improvements he
was animated. Deign to approve this my last petition, and may this
image of my husband bear me witness that my latest wish and my latest
prayer were for him and for my children."

Her last words were "_Island of Elba--Napoleon._" It was the 29th of
May, 1814. For four days her body remained laid out in state, surrounded
with numerous tapers. "Every road," writes a French historian, "from
Paris and its environs to Ruel was crowded with trains of mourners. Sad
groups thronged all the avenues; and I could distinguish tears even in
the splendid equipages which came rattling across the court-yard."

More than twenty thousand persons--monarchs, nobles, statesmen, and
weeping peasants--thronged the chateau of Malmaison to take the last
look of the remains of one who had been universally beloved. The funeral
took place at noon of the 2d of June. The remains were deposited in the
little church of Ruel. A beautiful mausoleum of white marble,
representing the Empress kneeling in her coronation robes, bears the
simple inscription: