300 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. 
nificent palms; the oveodoxas, glories of the moun- 
tains, add their glorious crowns to that which adorns 
the head of the empress. For hours I have gazed 
upon that beautiful creation, as, seated beneath the 
spreading tamarinds, I have striven to impress upon 
my memory an ineffaceable image of its loveliness. 
There is one view that is inexpressibly beautiful, with 
the snow-white statue sharply outlined against a dis- 
tant group of mountain-peaks, the Zrozs Pztons, which 
are sometimes deep blue, again light green, or par- 
tially obscured by drifting clouds. Against this back- 
ground Josephine stands out white as an angel. An- 
other view, at a little distance, gives a background of 
tamarinds; another that of the purple-green mango. 
From any position it appears a perfect composition ; 
an inimitable grace pervades the sweep of the royal 
robes, and the whole suggests a master’s hand. 
The statue fronts the sea, but the face is turned a 
few points south, so that it looks toward a line of hills, 
five miles away, nestled among which is the valley in 
which Josephine was born. The sentiment conveyed 
in the look of wistful yearning in that sweet face, 
turned longingly to the scenes of her childhood, is as 
beautiful as truthful. In front is the Caribbean Sea; 
the great fort hides the hills from the view of one 
standing by the statue, but a few steps to the eastward 
brings them in sight. 
Upon a medallion of Napoleon, Josephine rests her 
left hand. On the pedestal, a bas-relief in bronze 
represents the famous coronation scene, recalling that 
extraordinary pageant, when Bonaparte surpassed all 
preceding coronations in the magnificence of this, 
summoning the venerable Pius VII. from the Vatican 
