An old St. Helena newspaper has an account of his exertions in his garden, not long before his death, which has a pathos of its own: "A few weeks before his death the Emperor labored with a spade in his garden so long and so severely as to be faint with fatigue. Some one suggested the probable injury to his health. 'No,' said he, 'it cannot injure my health; that is lost beyond all hope. It will but shorten my days.'"
The disease from which Napoleon died was one that he had inherited from his father,--one, indeed, for which there is no cure. So it cannot be said with certainty that his life might have been prolonged if he had been more careful to get enough, and only enough, of the right kind of exercise. Yet though his life may have had to run in its natural course, his last years would have been much happier if there had been no friction between him and the Governor of St. Helena.
The last three years of Napoleon's life were undoubtedly the loneliest he had known. He missed Las Cases, Gorgaud, the Balcombes, and O'Meara, whom the Governor was at last able to get out of the way. Napoleon kept himself busy with his gardening and his books, and when, in 1819, the Government began to build a new house for him, he spent much time watching its progress, although with true forebodings he often said that he should never live to occupy it.
He still refused to take exercise, and once in a fit of depression stayed in the house for three months. Thus his health continued to suffer and he grew stout and clumsy. When he did go out he was apt to drive around the eight miles of his enclosure at breakneck speed, in a carriage drawn by six horses. In October, 1820, he sent word to Sir William Doveton that he would be glad to breakfast with him. Sir William was, of course, happy to receive his distinguished guest, and breakfast was served on the lawn to Napoleon and Generals Bertrand and Montholon. The breakfast in the society of Sir William Doveton and his family passed off pleasantly, and Napoleon started to walk home. Unluckily he had not the strength to carry out his good intentions, and on the way back to Longwood he had to stop at a cottage by the way to rest, while his carriage was sent for.