19th-22nd. We continued our course with the same wind, the same sky, and
the same temperature. Our voyage was monotonous, but pleasant; our days
were long, but employment helped them to glide away. The Emperor now
began regularly to dictate to me his Campaigns of Italy. I had already
written several chapters. For the first few days, the Emperor viewed
this occupation with indifference; but the regularity and promptitude
with which I presented to him my daily task, together with the progress
we made, soon excited his interest, and at length the pleasure he
derived from this dictation rendered it absolutely necessary to him. He
was sure to send for me about eleven o’clock every morning, and he
seemed himself to await the hour with impatience. I always read to him
what he had dictated on the preceding day, and he then made corrections
and dictated farther. In this way the time passed rapidly till four
o’clock arrived, when he summoned his valet-de-chambre. He then
proceeded to the state-cabin, and passed the time until dinner in
playing at piquet or chess.
The Emperor dictates very rapidly, almost as fast as he speaks in
ordinary conversation. I was therefore obliged to invent a kind of
hieroglyphic writing: and I, in my turn, dictated to my son. I was happy
enough to be able to collect almost literally every sentence that fell
from him. I had now not a moment to spare; at dinner time somebody was
sure to come and tell me that all the company were seated at table.
Fortunately my seat was near the door, which always stood open. I had
some time since changed my place at the request of Captain Ross, the
commander of the vessel, who, as he did not speak French, took the
opportunity of occasionally asking me the meaning of words: I therefore
took my seat between him and the Grand Marshal. Captain Ross was a man
of agreeable manners, and was exceedingly kind and attentive to us. I
had learnt, according to the English custom, to invite him to take a
glass of wine, drinking mine to the health of his wife, and he would
then drink to the health of mine. This was our daily practice.
After dinner, the Emperor never failed to allude to his morning
dictation, as if pleased with the occupation and amusement it had
afforded him. On these occasions, as well as whenever I happened to meet
him in the course of the day, he would address me in a jocular tone
with: “Ah! sage Las Cases!—Illustrious memorialist!—the Sully of St.
Helena;” and other similar expressions. Then he would frequently add:
“My dear Las Cases, these Memoirs will be as celebrated as any that have
preceded them. You will survive as long as any previous memoir-writer.
It will be impossible to dwell upon the great events of our time, or to
write about me, without referring to you.” Then resuming his pleasantry,
he would add: “After all, it will be said, he must have known Napoleon
well; he was his Councillor of State, his Chamberlain, his faithful
companion. We cannot help believing him, for he was an honest man and
incapable of misrepresentation.”