my death. I recommend you, above all, carefully
to examine my stomach, to make an. exact detailed
report of it, which you will convey to my son.
The vomitings which succeed each other without intermission
lead me to suppose that the stomach is the one of
my organs which is the most deranged, and I am inclined
to believe that it is affected with the disease which
conducted my father to the grave,—I mean
a cancer in the lower stomach. What think you?”
His physician hesitating, he continued—“I
have not doubted this since I found the sickness become
frequent and obstinate. It is nevertheless well
worthy of remark that I have always had a stomach
of iron, that I have felt no inconvenience from this
organ till latterly, and that whereas my father was
fond of high-seasoned dishes and spirituous liquors,
I have never been able to make use of them. Be
it as it may, I entreat, I charge you to neglect nothing
in such an examination, in order that when you see
my son you may communicate the result of your observations
to him, and point out the most suitable remedies.
When I am no more you will repair to Rome; you will
find out my mother and my family. You will give
them an account of all you have observed relative
to my situation, my disorder, and my death on this
remote and miserable rock; you will tell them that
the great Napoleon expired in the most deplorable
state, wanting everything, abandoned to himself and
his glory.” It was ten in the forenoon;
after this the fever abated, and he fell into a sort
of doze.
The Emperor passed a very bad night, and could not
sleep. He grew light-headed and talked incoherently;
still the fever had abated in its violence. Towards
morning the hiccough began to torment him, the fever
increased, and he became quite delirious. He spoke
of his complaint, and called upon Baxter (the Governor’s
physician) to appear, to come and see the truth of
his reports. Then all at once fancying O’Meara
present, he imagined a dialogue between them, throwing
a weight of odium on the English policy. The
fever having subsided, his hearing became distinct;
he grew calm, and entered into some further conversation
on what was to be done after his death. He felt
thirsty, and drank a large quantity of cold water.
“If fate should determine that I shall recover,
I would raise a monument on the spot where this water
gushes out: I would crown the fountain in memory
of the comfort which it has afforded me. If I
die, and they should not proscribe my remains as they
have proscribed my person, I should desire to be buried
with my ancestors in the cathedral of Ajaccio, in
Corsica. But if I am not allowed to repose where
I was born, why, then, let them bury me at the spot
where this fine and refreshing water flows.”
This request was afterwards complied with.