Margaret Rodenberg
Many years ago, I learned that Napoleon Bonaparte had tried to write a novel. Best of all, his scribbled incomplete manuscript still existed. Immediately, I decided to finish it for him. I'd lived in France as a young teen and never lost my fascination for the country, its history, and, in particular, Napoleon. Plus, like many avid readers (perhaps like you), I’d always planned to write a novel. What could be more perfect?
Thus began a long journey. Along the way, I researched hundreds of sources about Napoleon and traveled tens of thousands of miles. I visited Napoleon’s childhood home in Corsica and his school in Brienne and, of course, took research trips to Paris. My greatest adventure was my trip to the site of Napoleon's final exile--St. Helena Island, which remains one of the most remote spots in the world. The island didn’t have an airport when I went there, so I took the only option: a five-day voyage out of Cape Town, South Africa, on the HMS St. Helena, one of Britain’s last mail ships. I stayed on the island for nine days, until embarking on a return voyage of five days on rough seas.
On St. Helena, the French lovingly maintain the places where Napoleon stayed and his grave site (before his body was returned to France). I don’t believe in ghosts, but the day I stood alone in the room where the Emperor died, I was moved by the presence of a huge, tragic soul. I’d found the driving force for my novel.
Thus began a long journey. Along the way, I researched hundreds of sources about Napoleon and traveled tens of thousands of miles. I visited Napoleon’s childhood home in Corsica and his school in Brienne and, of course, took research trips to Paris. My greatest adventure was my trip to the site of Napoleon's final exile--St. Helena Island, which remains one of the most remote spots in the world. The island didn’t have an airport when I went there, so I took the only option: a five-day voyage out of Cape Town, South Africa, on the HMS St. Helena, one of Britain’s last mail ships. I stayed on the island for nine days, until embarking on a return voyage of five days on rough seas.
On St. Helena, the French lovingly maintain the places where Napoleon stayed and his grave site (before his body was returned to France). I don’t believe in ghosts, but the day I stood alone in the room where the Emperor died, I was moved by the presence of a huge, tragic soul. I’d found the driving force for my novel.
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